Dynamic Duo
1.1
"Why?"
"I think the Champion and I share the reason why," said the Faerie Queen, giving a glance towards Contessa. The woman didn't move, only looking toward me with an unreadable expression. "We know how hard this path is, worse still how hard it is to survive."
"Your life will never be normal from this point on," said Contessa. "You will forever be hated, even if some understand what you did, even if they're grateful that this came to pass. There will be resentment. There will be attempts on your life. You only have one option."
"Had," the Faerie Queen corrected. "I bring another, perhaps a greater option beyond the half-life the Champion would have offered. One, I think, which will speak to you quite deeply, Queen Administrator."
"Even so," said Contessa. "You have the choice."
The Faerie Queen nodded.
"With me," said Contessa, "you would be free of the burden of your powers. You would have a semblance of normality, anonymity on another, more peaceful world."
"And with me," said the Faerie Queen. "You would be dropped in a world where you could make a difference, much like our own except now you know your mistakes and you can be better. Above all, you would have family, perhaps friends. You would have your power if you choose it."
I hadn't even had time to think about it before something of a smile appeared on Contessa.
"I've lost," she said. "I look forward to more, Faerie Queen."
The woman turned, walking away leaving me with the Faerie Queen.
I was plunged into darkness.
Aunt May groaned, then, as I got into the living room area, she quickly switched into a smile. She wore an excess of clothes to make up for the November chill. It was really hell that I was forcing then out to run in winter, but it was either that or not being allowed to.
"Are we ready?" she said, putting false cheer into her tone. "Peter, aren't you excited?"
Peter, who was in the kitchen, gulping down a bowl of cereal only grunted. It was very early in the morning, but there was no other choice if we wanted to get back in time for Peter and me to shower, eat and not miss the school bus.
"You don't have to fake the excitement, Aunt May," I said. Her smile dropped a little and I caught that gaze she often directed at me when she thought I wasn't paying attention. I wasn't normal and though people couldn't quite pinpoint it, they could tell. Aunt May, who was the one adult I spent the most time with, felt it more than most.
"I get it," I said, shrugging. "It's early, cold and you wanna go back to sleep. Which is why I keep telling you that you should let Petey and me run on our own."
"Don't call me Petey," said Peter. "It makes it sound like you're older than me."
"Thirty minutes, Peter," I said, couldn't help myself. It had been a role at first, but it was easier now to get into the dynamic. Let myself revel in the joke only I knew. "Thirty minutes and you pretend like you're five years older than me."
"And that right there is the reason why," Aunt May, before we could devolve into something of an argument. "You're fourteen, which means you just running out there alone…"
"I take karate," I said, though I knew it wouldn't mean much. It had taken a lot to convince Dad that I could run alone and there had been factors there working in my favour: We'd lived in the suburbs, I'd been older, barely, and Dad had been trying to placate me because of the bullying both of us hadn't mentioned.
Now I lived in Queens.
Had been living Queens my entire life, even knowing my memories of the experience were false. I knew I'd had parents in this reality, that they'd died, that the same was true for Uncle Ben, but…all of it just felt far away. As far as I could tell, it was part of what the Faerie Queen had done to make sure I could settle into this reality. Warped my body so that I was younger, healed the connection between me and my passenger so I was in control, everything returned to a semblance of what it once was; implanted memories to returned what my passenger had taken, and then altering everyone else so that I fit in seamlessly into this life.
I wasn't sure how to feel about that, about her and the degree of care she would have had to take to put all of this together. But I had no other choice but to be thankful. If I'd been on any of the earths that derived abilities from Scion, I never would have had peace. This place was better, different and new, but still with certain flavours that I was used to.
Aunt May took a breath and then slowly let it out. She frowned. "I don't want to say your lessons are useless…but—"
"But I'm small and thin, and mass and height count for something," I said, interrupting her. "I've been taught all this, even how to get past them. If Petey and I," I caught Peter glaring with the corner of his eye, "just run, we'll be fine. You won't have to wake up early in the morning."
"Or," said Peter, "we could just stop this altogether. No more waking up in the mornings for everyone, then."
"Not in the cards," I said. "This was me trying to ease the burden a little. But…" I shrugged.
"Don't get why my burden isn't eased a little," said Peter. "You talk and it's all about May. But me? No-one's talking about me having to wake up. Waking up is a pain."
"Odd when you wake up so early," I said. Peter spat out his cereal, earning a frown from Aunt May. "Anyway, what if I need my big brother to protect me?"
"Ha-ha." He finished off his cereal and moved his bowl to the sink. He stretched a little, started running on the spot in quick order. "You know, I take gym. I'm sure you take gym. You could get that all out of your system then."
"I can't set the pace there," I said. "And we've been over this. Family bonding time."
Peter shot me an aghast expression. "We can bond over TV," he said.
"You don't watch much TV with us," said Aunt May. "Taylor's right. This is good," she said, trying and failing to push in enthusiasm. "This means, holistically, we're better people. We live longer lives."
Peter groaned. "Fine. Let's go then."
We left as a group. No one on our floor was up yet, which meant we didn't have to greet anyone. The way I liked it. Jeremy Matthews had something of a crush on me and his parents encouraged it, which didn't make interactions any better. But beyond him and his family, there was everyone else: In their eyes, I was a fourteen-year-old girl, relatively sheltered and innocent. They wanted to protect me and it was grating because I could protect myself better they ever could.
But I was supposed to deal with it in silence, anything else would look too odd.
"Okay," I said as we got out of our building. "We'll start things slow for Aunt May and slowly up the pace. We'll start taking laps and as we go on, Peter, you'll be going faster because I've noticed that you've been slacking off."
"That's been slacking off?" said Aunt May. "I've seen you two run. It's…you guys are a lot sprier than I was at your age."
"Taylor's a health nut," said Peter.
I hummed. "Nothing bad about that," I said. We started running a little and I noticed how bored Peter was. "Take large leaps. I want your knees to reach your chest. You'll do this for warm up. A half or maybe a full block, until you get tired."
Peter gave me a look and then shrugged, going along with it. I smiled a little. He spoke a lot about being older, but when it mattered he went along with me taking lead.
We ran a block and a half before Peter and I started running faster, quickly out pacing Aunt May. Peter started out pacing me shortly after.
It was part of his powers, mover rating enough to matter, minor brute and a blaster power he could use to make webs. He was Spider-Man, a name that didn't fit with how young he was, but it helped when he was obfuscating his identity. More than anything, he was the local hero in a place that was lacking in something as organised as the Protectorate.
He was a hero and he hid it from Aunt May and me. I knew, because I'd felt it one night. I'd been a lot more paranoid then and I'd had bugs stationed around the apartment. I'd felt him as he'd opened the window and jumped out. I'd almost died in panic before he'd swung, moving between buildings and then quickly out of my range.
I knew and he didn't know I knew. But whenever I told him to push himself harder, he acquiesced. I had to wonder how he parsed things from his side of the fence. Did he suspect I knew and was just going along until I confronted him? Did he think I suspected and he was giving me the pieces so that I could put everything together?
I was a quarter of a block in front of Aunt May, and Peter was half a block in front me. I had bugs on him and when I tapped into their senses I didn't smell a sliver of sweat. He wasn't breathing hard, instead he was just going at it at a light jog.
I took a deep breath and pushed myself faster, feeling as my lungs started to burn and legs started to hurt. Peter glanced back and started to slow down. I shook my head, gesturing for him to push himself faster and he shrugged, going faster and increasing the distance between us.
He stopped when he reached his endpoint, doubling back and reaching me before I could even reach a quarter of the block whose end would mark the finish line. I stopped, breathing hard and doing my best to control my breathing. I felt as Peter started modulating his breathing, putting on a play at fatigue.
"Little break," he said, panting between the words. "Give May time to catch up?"
I nodded, swallowing. My arms were on my legs, sweat dripping off me.
"Stop," I said. "Stop acting."
I felt as his heart started to beat faster. "Wh—What?"
"Stop…acting," I said. "I know."
"You must be tired Taylor, because you're not making sense," he said, a quiver in his voice. He'd forgotten to keep panting, forgotten that he was acting at being tired.
I took a gulp of air. Aunt May was still a distance away, though I was sure if I glanced back I would be able to see her. I had bugs out, tracking people and I knew that there wasn't anyone near.
"I know," I said. "The whole Spider-Man thing."
I looked up and there was fear there, his mouth agape. He didn't say anything.
"A part of me convinced myself that you were giving me the pieces and wanted to figure it out," I said. "But…your expression right now is telling me different."
"I…"
"Don't deny it, Petey," I said. "I know."
"How?" he asked.
"I have powers too."
"The spider bit you too?"
"What? What spider?" Peter looked around, confused. "No one's around. At least no one that can hear us. But that's not factoring in thinker powers or anything."
"Think—" He shook his head. He closed his eyes, taking a breath. "There was a spider and it bit me. That's how I got my powers. How did you get yours?" He got closer, whispering. "Are you an Inhuman? I've heard they've been popping up on the internet and like…SHIELD and stuff." His eyes bulged more. "Are you going to get abducted?"
"Petey, calm down," I said. "No one knows. I've been quiet. You know that story that keeps popping around the Internet, about the Dweller in the Depths?"
"The bug stories?" he said. "Wait, you can turn into bugs?"
"No. Control bugs," I said. I pointed at an alley and bugs started moving, shifting and forming a mass. I started to make them congeal into a human form that moved forward. Peter took a few steps back, swearing under his breath.
"Hello," they said.
"Oh, fuck, they talk," he said. He looked at me. "They talk. You can make them talk. How can you make them talk? How do you control them? Or are they smart on their own and you're just giving sort of a guide?"
"May's close enough to hear," I said, a large grin on me. "Bug sensing."
Peter grinned, giving me a hug and picking me up. "This is going to be so cool."
"Yeah," I said smiling. This was the first step in making this world different, more connections, focusing less on saving the world and letting others deal with that while I focused smaller scale.
I still wanted to be a hero, but this time I wanted to do it right.
"Yeah."
Dynamic Duo
1.2
"I can run faster than normal, jump really high, stick to any surface," he said, counting on his fingers. He demonstrated this by jumping, curling into ball and then extending his legs to stick on the ceiling. He bent, touched his fingers to the ceiling and then he let himself fall, but the fingers connected were strong enough to let him stick.
"It's…I don't know, like all the abilities that a spider has but scaled up because I'm bigger," he said. "They can leap really long distance, scurry pretty fast and they've got a heightened sense of awareness."
"They also shoot webs," I said and then I grinned. "Out of their butts."
"Ew. Ew. No," said Peter. He let himself fall, landing lightly. He went to his wardrobe and pulled out a tinker-esque contraption. He tossed it and I caught it: The thing was a wristband with a bullet shaped nozzle, on either side were blocks connected to the nozzle by thick tubes. There trigger extended from the wrist band to the base of the palm.
"Can I try it?"
Peter nodded. I slid the wristband on, fixed the straps and made it tighter. I looked it over, opening and closing my wrist to get the feel of it. Closing my hand into a fist didn't press the trigger, but I could see that if I punched someone, it would release.
"Short press and it'll shoot out a projectile," he said. "Longer press and it'll shoot out a thick string."
"You made it so it has dual functions?" I said.
He shook his head. "It lets out a spray at first and the spins a thick thread after it. Short press means the initial spray, which spreads out so it can stick, is severed before it can extend into a thread."
I pressed less than a second and a web shot out. It wasn't the intricate display spiders naturally made, but hodgepodge, messy, with lines landing over each other.
"How strong is it? The silk?"
"Very," said Peter, a large smile on him. "It's the same properties as real silk…to a point, at least. It's still something I'm working on, which means it's I can swung with without it breaking. If it was going against someone like the Hulk or Thor, it'd lose."
I pressed the trigger a little longer and the front of the web shot out, spreading out in a mess like the projectile, except this time there was a long thread of tightly spun silk trailing behind it.
"Let go and it'll cut the thread," said Peter. I did and the thread was severed, falling on the ground. "I usually just grab it. I've got super friction, so I never slip." He motioned pressing the base of his palm and then grabbing in quick succession. "It's how I travel."
"Does your power help you build all this, or…?"
"No," he said. "Built it myself. Thought about the properties of silk, then about synthesising it. I looked through all the information I could and worked off it. Still haven't gotten it as strong as real silk would be if I was using it, but I'm still working on the web fluid formula."
I let out a chuckle. "It's easy to forget you're a genius sometimes," I said. Peter blushed.
"You too, though," he said. "If you wanted to, you could get into Midtown easy."
I shook my head. "It's…different for me," I said. "My 'genius' is limited and I'd quickly burn out if I was in your type of environment. Public school is better. Means I have time to brainstorm."
"Yeah?"
I nodded. "What are you plans?" I said. "You go out almost every day and you patrol. But what are you hoping to do? What's the end goal?"
Peter shrugged. "What do you want me to say? I want to be a hero."
"Like Iron Man," I said.
Again, Peter shrugged.
"One of the best moments of my life was at the Stark Expo," he said. He smiled, looking at me. "He said I was brave, for standing down against those drones and…" He shrugged, sighing. "I wanted to be more. I want to help people like he does. And, now I have my chance."
"Tall order. Iron Man is Tony Stark," I said. "One of the richest people alive. It's easier for him because of the resources he has. He can build those suits of his, spend money to keep the Avengers alive. But…we don't have the same resources. If you wanted to be like him, then you'd have to accept you're always going to be at a disadvantage."
"You think this is stupid, don't you?" he said, gaze towards the ground, his arms crossed. "That I can't do this?"
"It's not that," I said. "More…I want you know where you're starting from and that this isn't going to be easy. If you want to help people then…it's not just going to be swinging around the city, hoping you'll stumble onto something. It'll mean actual work, it'll mean sacrifice."
"I know that," said Peter. "I know it's not going to be easy, but," he shrugged, "it still has to be done doesn't it? You know what Uncle Ben liked to say. If you have the power to change things, they you have to."
I let out a long sigh. "I remember," I said, even if it was hollow, with little in the way of emotional attachment. The only reason I knew Uncle Ben was because of memories the Faerie Queen had given me, to a point the same was true for Peter and Aunt May. But where they differed was I'd gotten to know them, there'd been enough time for my defences to chip away and for me to grow to love them.
In the macro sense, this meant from my perspective, Uncle Ben's name wasn't as hallowed as it was for Peter and Aunt May. It meant I could see how bad Uncle Ben's philosophy could be. Not for him directly, but for those connected to him. There were consequences even for doing good things.
"But those aren't easy words to live by," I said. "He—"
"Yeah," Peter interrupted, his voice cracking. He didn't go on and I stopped, the two of us sharing a moment of silence. Peter sighed. "Yeah. May would hate me for this."
"She wouldn't hate you," I said. "She'd understand, but she'd be upset. She lost Uncle Ben because of his saving people thing and, through this, it would be like we're forcing her to watch as the same fate slowly crept closer. It's why we have to do this carefully, why we're not going to take shortcuts and we're going to treat this with the gravity it deserves."
Looking serious, Peter nodded. "You sound like you have a plan."
I nodded. "Costume and capital, first," I said. "We'll slowly gather gear and then work our way up as we go on. Training will be mandatory and, for you more than me, there'll be light patrols. Getting the locals used to you."
"I already have a costume," said Peter.
"Eh," I said. "I've seen your costume and it's first iteration at best. It's not something people will take seriously when we eventually start having to work with the police."
"We'll work with the police? How much have you planned, exactly?" he said.
"Capital is what we're going to be working on first," I said. I reached into my bag and pulled out my notebook. "You know about Crime Stoppers?" Peter shook his head. "It's basically an organisation which you can give tips about crimes and they give you rewards if your tip was worth something. I called the place during the day, asked the procedure and it's simple. We just call, we're given a sort of reference number and then we call back after a while and they tell us if something came of it."
"But…isn't that bad? Like saving people and expecting money?"
"With capital we get better supplies," I said. "I get better bugs which means when I make your costume it will be better. All the perks of actual silk because I'm going to have my spiders weaving the costume together. That's not mentioning weapons: A good knife, expandable baton, a burner phone, a laptop because that's always handy, pepper spray, Capsaicin and those are just for me. For you, we'll have to buy better gear so you can upgrade your web shooters, also supplies to make your web thing—"
"Web fluid," said Peter.
"Yeah, that. I'm also thinking maybe a storage space which will be a workshop? You can test out anything else you want to do. Your tinker lab."
"You've really thought this out." I shrugged. "How are we going to find a crime, anyway? I don't know if you know this, but they aren't exactly easy to find. Most of the time I'm stopping jaywalkers."
"We're going to find them because I'm awesome," I said. "My power is awesome even if it isn't the same sort of powerhouse as yours."
Peter snorted. "Yeah. Comparing apples to oranges," he said and he grinned. "Though," stretching out the word, "if we were comparing them, on a taste level, my oranges would be better than your apples."
"Yeah, right."
"I could totally take you down if we fought," he said. "Even with your karate."
"Really?" I said.
"Without a doubt."
I pulled from the bugs I could feel spread out over the entire building, a roach entered Peter's room, jumping and spreading its wings. He was immediately on his feet, ostentatiously flipping away and landing on the wall before the roach could land on him. I pulled in more bugs: Ants and more roaches, flies and gnats, all of them flying towards him. He jumped at me, angling so he would land short. I pushed myself back, rolling and coming to a stand. He didn't come at me, only picking up his web shooter.
More bugs were filing into the room, crawling over the floor and towards Peter.
"Okay, stop," he said. "Before you have them crawl over my bed or something." As one, every bug stopped. Peter looked over them and shivered. "Your power is so creepy. No wonder they think you're a horror movie monster."
I shrugged, beginning to push the bugs back. Peter took his web shooter and looked it over. He put it on, pulling out a cartridge with the web fluid and then pressing the trigger.
"You know I could have just webbed you, right?" he said.
"Ditto," I said. "If this were I fight, I'd have spiders and trip wires up. I'd go for the eyes and throat, bites to put you off balance and I'd be hiding in the thick of a cloud of bugs. I've heard it's pretty terrifying."
Peter didn't look like he believed me.
"How many bugs can you control?" he asked.
"No idea," I said. "I've never really felt my upper limits."
"And you can sense through them?" he asked. I nodded. "So, we'll use your bugs as recon, scout out trouble and make the call?"
"My range, your mobility," I said. "My range covers three blocks. I'll search through those blocks for anything that looks suspicious and then you'll move us along until we get something."
"That's…going to take a while," he said.
I shrugged. "You have a better idea?"
"No," he said. "And I also don't have a problem with your whole plan, just that…can it not be boring? It sounds like we're just going to be swinging from block to block and I'll just be standing there while you…I don't even know, see through your bugs? And it also doesn't do anything about the other stuff I usually stop, a crash that's about to happen, someone who's not paying attention and steps into the road, opportunist muggers."
"You want to patrol," I said. He gave me a shrug. "Movers gotta move, I guess. I'll make sure that between exercises, you get patrol time." Peter had been frowning since I'd mentioned movers. "On the fly threat analysis," I told him. "I'll teach you when we get to strategy and how to handle combat situations, but that's for the future. May's home."
"What, really?" he said, slightly panicked. He took his web shooter and shoved it in his drawers, grabbed a box cutter and started removing the web stuck to his wall. "We don't tell her, right? I know we haven't said anything, but—"
I gave him a nod. "For now, we don't," I said. "But at some point, we should. I don't know about you, but, I don't want to keep a secret like that."
Peter sighed. "Yeah," he said. "Just not now."
***
One of the most frustrating things about this universe was the non-existence of PHO. I mean, I understood it, the Age of Superhero was still in its early years, with only one true superhero team, and villains being few and far between. But it didn't help my frustration in the least. Because of this, I'd had to subscribe to a total of eleven forums, all of them discussing superhero, gods, aliens and everything in between to make sure I got my full assortment of news.
"Hey, Taylor," said Ned. He had a dopey grin on him, but then, he always had a dopey grin on him. I gave him a wave, my earphones still on, and returned to scrolling at length through inane chatter, hoping I would find something worth my attention.
"Peter's in his room," I said. Ned was still next to me, staring.
"Oh, right. Yeah. Yeah."
He walked off and with the bugs I had in Peter's room I heard as they started going off on something I wasn't too interested in, their books coming out.
"No homework today?" said Aunt May. She had a recipe book open and was focused on keeping to the instructions. A part of me hoped she'd fail whatever she was trying and we'd have take-out. Last time it had been Peter's pick and he'd wanted Thai. Again. He had an incredible ability to eat the same thing over and over.
"Homework is to fortify concepts," I said, not looking up from my phone. I lowered the volume, but I didn't look up. I was reading a blip of news on a Canadian Inhuman spotting, a man who could make his skin glow a variety of colours, but the poster hadn't linked to another source and there was an argument if it was true or if the poster just wanted likes.
"I don't need that," I said. "It's a waste of everyone's time if I do it."
"I'm sure that's not true," said Aunt May. She looked up at me. "Your teachers can't believe that. It goes against everything I remember about school."
"It's all about authority," I said. I scrolled up, fixated by the comments because things had devolved into an Internet fight. One side was made up entirely of conspiracy theorists saying powers popping up wasn't natural and it was something the government had put in the water and it was just now starting to come to a head.
Almost certainly, it wasn't true. But there was a perverse sense of pleasure from watching the more rational argument being shot down by insanity. The conspiracy theorist was going off about a cage falling from the skies to grab a guy who'd been surrounded by military. Though for the life of him, he couldn't supply any pictures.
"Most of life is, but school more than anything," I said absently. "Teachers don't have a lot of authority. They act like they do with detention, demerits or whatever, but at the end of the day what they can do is limited and boils down to time wasting. I told my teacher I wasn't going to do busy work and there wasn't anything she could do about it. I was right and she sent me to the Principal's office, but at that point I'd won no matter what happened. Maybe I'd get suspended, but most likely it would be a talking to. The point was proven."
Aunt May had stopped moving. I looked up at her and I could see traces of fear in her eyes, directed at me.
"I pity the teachers who have to deal with you," she said. She smiled a little. "But then, you get that from me. I remember when I was still at school. I was something of a rebel," she said, pride in her tone.
"Were you really?"
She deflated a little. "What? You don't believe me?"
I shrugged. "It's just that…I don't think rebels name themselves," I said. "They just sort of do. Looking at you, I'm getting a cheerleader vibe."
"For a year, or two," she said. "I was still figuring myself out back then. Then I started…" She shook her head, dramatically closing her mouth. "Never mind."
I sat straighter, the discussion on the net forgotten.
"Come on, May. You can't just start something juicy then leave me hanging. What was it?" She shook her head. "You know, if you don't tell me, I'm going to keep imagining ridiculous scenarios. Because right now, I'm feeling the urge to track the things that could be 'started' when you would have been at high school so I can have an idea of it."
"Might work a little more if you knew how old I am," she said.
"I know how old you are. We threw you a party last year," I said.
She was grinning. "No, no, no. You think you know how old I am. But that, my dear, is a deception I've been planting since you and Peter were but babes. You'll have to console yourself with whatever wrong imaginings you have, always knowing you'll never know the truth."
I let out a sigh. "It was probably something boring anyway," I said. "Maybe smoking…" I watched and she didn't give me anything, only bouncing as she stirred whatever it is she was cooking. Deftly not paying attention to me. "Weed…?" Again she gave me nothing. "Ecstasy…? That was a thing, right?"
"Fish all you want," she said. "You ain't getting anything from me."
I was smiling as I returned to my phone, but the smile fell away as I noticed what I was doing. How I was slowly trying to piece together the cape scene, all of it in secret. The Faerie Queen had given me a second chance at life, a do-over even if all I'd known was gone. She'd known me well enough to know I'd want to do good, to become a true hero and she'd offered me the opportunity to do things differently. But here I was, falling back on some of the things I'd done before.
I'd lied to Dad about my powers, about what I did when I was out, and soon I'd be doing the same with Aunt May. A part of me wanted to rationalise, to say this time was different, the choice wasn't solely my own and there was Peter to consider; the fact that knowing might hurt Aunt May more than if Peter and I were sneaking out in secret. Because then she'd know we were putting ourselves in danger, and we were one day off from being a repeat of what had happened to Uncle Ben.
It wasn't something I wanted to think about, but I had to. So much had happened and I'd let myself lock it away, to the point Dr Yamada had feared me letting down the wall. This time had to be different.
Even so, it didn't make things easier. Choosing between telling her the truth, which might be better for my own personal growth and hurt Aunt May or lying to her for her own good.
Just this once, I thought. Just this once and I'll deal with it when I'm alone. When I can think without interruption.
I pushed the thoughts back, focusing on what I could work on right now. Peter wanted to be a hero. I wanted to be a hero, but I wanted to be different. I didn't want to be Skitter or Weaver but have the same comfort I'd had in myself and my decisions when I'd decided to be Taylor.
First were costumes. May had arrived before I could take Peter's measurements. I'd only been able to jot down what he'd like in a costume and I was going to sketch it throughout the day. He seemed to be fixated on the red and blue colour scheme, which wasn't bad on a PR standpoint. It was bright and it would send the right message since we wanted to be a healthier option than the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. It would mean, when we started working with the police, they'd be more trusting because the public would have a degree of faith in us.
Unfortunately, I would also have to have a costume trending in the direction of bright. Maybe I could use the Weaver costume as a backbone, largely white and blue...but white had the con of staining when blood was involved.
I internally shook my head.
Less bullet ants and more butterflies, I mentally recited.
My teammates hadn't liked Weaver as a persona, but she was my go-to when I thought about being a hero, dealing with all the bureaucracy being a hero involved. I had to cannibalise the best of Weaver, the best of Skitter and above all, the best of me. In the hierarchy of personas, then Taylor was more important, what she'd do, how she'd act and what she held the most important.
And here, what would Taylor do? What would Taylor want?
I didn't want to be mistaken for a villain, which meant as much as there wasn't a lot of utility in a bright costume, it would have to do. I wanted Peter to be happy, which meant I had to be a hero in good standing, which meant Weaver more than Skitter.
"Going to my room," I said. Aunt May gave me a wave.
I pulled out my notebook and started jotting down new designs. I was thinking a similar aesthetic to Weaver, light and bright colours but with the bug motif in mind: white and a green several shades lighter than a mantis.
When things had come to a head with Echidna, I'd been able to rock a cape. Maybe I could do something similar, shape it so it flowed and was reminiscent of wings. Green lacewing wings, maybe. It fit thematically, my love for flying along with how I loved using silk for various odds and ends. The bug eyes had to stay, but they'd maybe be white or gold since the costume had an excess of white.
I frowned when I saw the gold coloured lenses, shook my head and scrapped it. Maybe a lighter blue colour, anything but gold.
I started sketching my costume. The armour panelling and how it would look, drawing out different colour schemes and where they would fit together. There was also the motif I would have on my chest just like Peter with the spider on his costume. But I would have to start think on the name situation, keep Weaver or come up with something new. At least many of the names in Earth Bet weren't known here, but I didn't like the idea in the least.
A knock interrupted me before I could start thinking in the direction.
"Dinner," said Aunt May.
***
"You ready?" said Peter. He was standing on the wall outside my window, fully dressed in his costume. Looking at him, he was exactly what I'd been afraid of when I'd first thought about going out, the inherent limitations of putting together a costume. His wasn't bad looking, but it was very clear he had a limited budget.
But he seemed comfortable in it, even if it made him look a little bit dopey, a bit like he was playing dress up.
"Yeah," I said, climbing out of the window, stepping on the fire escape. A mass of bugs I had gathered in the shadows on the side of the building moved towards me, climbing onto and cloaking me, bulking me up much like Brian usually did. Peter shivered, taking a few steps back, which took him higher.
"Creepy. Creepy. Creepy," he said. "Ew, Taylor, no," he muttered as I had the bugs shifting onto my hair, giving it life. I had more bugs settle over my face.
"I don't have a mask," I said through the bugs. He visibly shivered again.
"We could get you one," he said. "Just go into a store and buy a Halloween mask. You don't need to do this. Because this is so disgusting," he said, shivering. "Those things are dirty and they're creepy and they're just crawling all over you. Blugh."
"In a moment they'll be crawling all over you," I said.
"No. No. I didn't agree to that," he said. "You're not covering me in bugs."
"I meant I'd be on your back," I said. "So…"
Peter hugged himself. "I'm not liking this anymore," he said. "Are you going to be like this every night we do this? Just covering yourself in disgustingness?"
"I'll buy a ski-mask tomorrow," I said. "Didn't really think about it."
"Does your power mean you're not creeped out by bugs crawling over you?" he said. He stepped closer, standing on his toes. "Though the hair thing you're doing is pretty cool. Gives it more volume."
"Which is what I'll be doing with a cape," I said. "Give it an effect like I'm always standing just right of a cool breeze. Make it billow."
Peter tusked. "Edna would be so disappointed in you," he said.
"Edna?" I said, frowning.
"Edna Mode," said Peter. "She's like the suit designer. Taylor," he said, with a small groan. "Sometimes it's embarrassing to have you as a sister. You're telling me you've never watched the Incredibles?" He shook his head. "This is…just wrong. Tomorrow, you, me, May, we're watching it."
"Okay, okay," I said. I got a sense of the layout of the surrounding blocks with my bugs, feeling the people who were out and about, giving me a sense of how they moved. No one was close and those who were, were asleep. "Let's get a little distance. I've pretty much covered the surrounding twenty-one blocks from the house, so we need to move further."
"Cool…Cool."
"You're not moving," I said.
"Yeah. Give me a second." He stood straight, shook his hands while breathing loudly and then jumped, a small jump. He fell, the twisted in the air and shooting out a line of silk which connected to the building on the other side of the street. He swung away, angling himself around and then fired off another web, this one leading him to land beside me. "Forgot I was standing on a wall."
"It's what you get for showing off," I said. "Let's get going."
He nodded and I felt him shiver as I got on his back. But even so, we started climbing up the wall. High enough, he leapt, fired with both hands, catching the thread with one hand and swinging. It was thrilling at first, until we sailed further up into the air, Peter letting go of the thread and firing another double shot. We immediately changed direction and my stomach lurched, its contents feeling like they were crashing against the side.
Peter didn't notice, gaining more momentum and the leaping further into an upward arc, twisting in the air before firing another double shot. The contents of my stomach slammed against the sides again and then quickly started shooting up my throat. I quickly tapped Peter and he angled us onto a roof, no sooner was I there than everything had just spilled.
I shook my head as I dry heaved. "No. No thank you. Too fast. Too much changing direction. Just no."
"Too many bugs too," said Peter, shaking himself off and killing some of the bugs still on him. "Let's try this again tomorrow, when you've got your ski mask."
"Yeah and we won't swing tomorrow," I said. "Running and jumping. I can handle running and jumping. Not this torture."Last edited: 30/1/2020 Award ReplyReport1451ManMag23/5/2018NewAdd bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks Dynamic Duo: 1.3 New View contentManMagHim/He24/5/2018Add bookmark#113Dynamic Duo
1.3
"I look like a criminal," I said, looking at myself in the mirror. Peter, who was reclining on my bed, gave me a shrug. I turned around, looking myself over. "A criminal who's been wearing the same clothes for every job they've ever done."
I had on black jeans which were so faded they were almost grey; a thin shirt with holes in places, it also had been black once upon a time; a faded black hoodie, which was two sizes too big; and boots which were in surprisingly good condition even if they were crusted with dirt.
"We don't have money," he said absently. "And anyway, we're not going to be doing much, right? So you don't have to worry about being seen."
I shook my head. "Never think like that, little brother—"
"I'm older than you!" he said sitting up.
"Look what happen to Mr Incredible. If Frozone wasn't there…" I whistled.
My earlier comment forgotten, Peter smiled.
"It's an awesome movie, right?" he said.
"Very awesome," I said. "Though…"
Peter groaned. "Please don't ruin it."
"I'm not going to ruin it. I'm just…I was a little confused about the themes that's all. It seems to say—"
Peter groaned even louder, throwing himself back and closing his ears. "None of that. No boring analysis of the greatest movie in existence. You're just going to ruin it."
"Greatest movie?" I said and snorted. Peter looked in my direction, scowling. I raised my hands in surrender. "Wasn't going to disagree, just imagining you saying that on the Internet and all the people that'd be down your throat…Speaking of, I wouldn't really mind watching that."
"Schadenfreude, much?" he said.
I took a loud gasp. "Petey's first big word," I said, cooing. "Make sure not to break your tongue as you try and force it out."
Peter snickered, looking to the roof; he raised his legs and jumped to his feet, landing on my bed and bouncing up to land on the roof. He reclined there.
"Don't do that to my bed," I said.
"Yeah. Yeah," he said, waving it off. He was still smiling as I turned to the mirror, looking over what Peter had wanted to call a costume. It wasn't a costume and I didn't want it to be, even by association. I took off the hoodie, looking it over.
"This is awesome, isn't it?" Peter said. I looked at him through the mirror. He was reclining with his arms behind his head, looking out my window. "Having powers, I mean. Like…"
"Yeah," I said, a sad smile on me. Having powers had changed my left, opened it up to a much larger world. Because of my powers I'd had friends, I'd gotten out of Winslow and, even if how I'd gone about it had been bad, it had helped me save the worlds.
"What's wrong?"
I turned, snapped out of the melancholic revelry. "What?"
"You looked…sad all of a sudden," he said. He got off the wall. "Did I say something? Or…is it girl stuff? Is there like a guy I should beat up or something? Because I can."
"No," I said, chuckling. "Just, remembering stuff I'd rather not be remembering. It's okay, though, we should focus on this. I don't want to be wearing black. It's…I don't like it, don't like how people might see me if they saw it. First impressions stick."
"I can get you another one," he said. "It's not a problem swinging to Brooklyn to get some shopping done."
"I'd like that," I said. "Thank you. Can you get me a green hoodie, the same shade of green I showed you for my costume? If people see the first iteration of my suit being green, it'll be easier to connect the costume I'll be wearing in the next phase."
"Green isn't exactly stealthy."
"So is blue and red, and yet you'll be wearing your suit," I said. "This is in the case we miss something. If I miss someone in the area with their phone out or there's paparazzi and I think it's better they know you exist."
"Okay," he said. "Guy small, right?"
I nodded. "Girl hoodies are too form fitting, too tight," I said. "Better something loose I'll be able to move in if we have to fight."
"The jeans and boots?"
"They're fine. But if you see running shoes with green in them, then I wouldn't mind. But if it's a hassle, then you can just do whatever."
"Cool," he said. "I'll make it a patrol thing. It doesn't hurt if I have a bag, right? The last one I left, my webs dissolved and it was stolen. I can't buy textbooks with all the allowance we're spending on the clothes."
"Take off anything which might make people think you're a kid—"
"A kid who's older than you."
"—and we're fine. At some point you'll also have to skip school. You get popular enough and people might make it a game trying to figure out your identity. When that happens, we have to make sure we've muddied their points of reference. The most obvious one right now is that you're still in school, from then on it can be narrowed down further. But right now, having a bag might help us. It'll show people you're headed somewhere, but you're still prepared to help if it's needed."
"Okay," said Peter. "I'll be back in an hour. Maybe two. Love you, sis," he said, leaving my room.
I pulled out my notebook and colour pencils, starting to sketch out the frame of Peter's costume. Blue and red, with a symbol centred around spiders. He'd said he wanted something a bright blue and he didn't mind if the red was darker. I worked on a basic outline and started out a variety of designs, focusing more on where the colours were and the ratio between red and blue.
I stopped at the thirty-minute mark, having made three outlines, then I started make the spider symbol Peter would have on his chest, trying out different spiders. Tarantula with its larger body and its shorter, thicker legs; the Black Widow which the sharply shaped abdomen—I scratched this one out because Black Widow was an Avenger and the motif might be confusing for some; and the Daddy Long Legs, which Peter had been using a variant of with first iteration costume.
Next was my own. I hadn't figured out my name yet, but it would have to be bug related, both because of my powers and because I'd be working with Peter. Maybe directing people towards thinking about spiders? But then I'd also have to have a bug symbol on my chest and I'd have to make it distinct enough that if we were ever selling merchandise, people would be able to tell us apart.
Bug related, but not spider. It had to be an insect people weren't scared off, which meant cockroaches, fleas or ticks were off the table, not mentioning their villainous leanings on a symbolic level. But it also had to be something actually cool, I couldn't use a caterpillar or a butterfly, and though a ladybug might work, it might mean I'd have to change my colour scheme to red and black.
Ants, the go-to, I couldn't use because Ant Man was a thing, and wasps and bees were out because they killed people. It'd be a reminder that I'd killed people. It had been the right decision at the time, the smart decision, but it left something.
"Remember who you're not trying to be," I muttered to myself.
What was it they'd called me: Khepri, the Egyptian God of creation, movement of the sun and rebirth. I hadn't created anything, but at the end of it I'd been forcing Scion to move through worlds, and when he'd been defeated, I'd given humanity the chance at rebirth.
It felt like it was at its own volition that my hand started sketching out a beetle, filling it in with black, making its borders deep as I pressed hard against my pencil. People hadn't been doing it right. They'd been causing shit while the worlds were ending around them, some of them hiding and hoping Scion would pass them by when the inevitable was coming, others doing worse.
I noticed I was breathing hard, the anger closer to the surface and my bugs reacting to it. Subconsciously I'd been pulling the closer, layering them in the walls of our building and clustering them in vents so they could come to me at first opportunity.
I looked at the scarab, letting myself wallow. Maybe I could use it, affix it on my chest and have it be a reminder of what I didn't want to be. Dr Yamada had said I had a penchant for compartmentalising, locking my problems into neat boxes and then moving forward without ever disturbing them, this was the same thing about me Clockblocker hadn't liked, because it had meant I couldn't really focus on the consequences of my actions.
Having a scarab on my chest would stop me pushing everything back. It would be a constant reminder. But it would also be unhealthy. I'd be so fixated on the past, I wouldn't be able to move forward. I'd question every decision I made, fearing it might lead me down the path to Khepri.
I lifted my pencil, poise to scratch the symbol out, but I stopped. Maybe it couldn't be a constant reminder, but it would still have to serve as such. I pulled out the piece of paper, searched through my room until I found clear tape. I called forward my bugs, having them take out the piece of paper and the tape, the pulled it into the vents, and stuck as firmly as they could.
"It's only by remembering who we were that we can change," I muttered to myself, using some of the bugs to trace the scarab, giving me an impression of it in my mind. I had them patrol the piece of paper, so the image would be there, something hanging at the back of my mind, easier to access if I ever thought about going the same paths.
No scarabs, bees or wasps, which meant I still didn't have a name.
Maybe Ladybug wouldn't be such a bad name, but would it make sense when I couldn't fly?
I'd had so much trouble figuring out a name in my first life and it seemed like the problem was coming around in this reality too. Hopefully I got a chance to choose my name this time.
***
Bugs scurried out onto walls and clustered together. I could see Peter in his room, checking himself over. He was dressed in costume and he was inserting web cartridges into his web shooters. I focused on other parts of the apartment, bugs I'd hidden away in May's hair. She was in her room and wasn't moving much. I had some enter, moving towards a dark corner and clustering together until I could see her.
"May's asleep," my bugs said and Peter jumped, turning quickly in the directly the voice had come. He let out an audible breath, muttering something under his breath I couldn't quite catch. "I'm checking if the coast is clear for the neighbouring buildings. Give me a sec."
"Okay," said Peter.
I checked other apartments, feeling out for people who were still awake. It was just after ten, which meant there were some people still up, either watching television or doing other things. I tracked their attention, seeing if any of them would be close to see us as we moved. A few cars entered my range, moving in my direction, but it would take them a while until they were driving through my street.
"Let's go," I said. "Make it quick, cars incoming."
Peter moved to his window as I did the same. I stepped onto the fire escape, but Peter used the wall to crawl towards me. I was wearing a green hoodie, though my arms hadn't been ripped off like Peter's, and the black jeans and the boots. Even if the boots were old, they were comfortable and they made for good running.
"No bugs," Peter commented. "Good."
"Move," I said. He didn't need to know that I had bugs under my clothes. "Cars incoming." He jumped down and I climbed onto his back. He continued climbing, easily so until we were on the roof. He stood straight, fixing me so I was more comfortable then he started running, leaping without worry across buildings.
Compared to Bitch's dogs, when Peter wasn't swinging around like a maniac, he was a bearable method of transportation. I let him move while I focused on the bugs in my range and started moving them, not sending them towards me, but having them travel ahead of me so I'd have an excess when we reached our target.
Peter moved too fast and some of my bugs weren't fast enough. I tapped him thrice and slowed.
"Don't stop, but move slower."
He nodded, keeping his pace and only moving faster when he was getting momentum for a jump. I focused on my bugs, feeling out for anything suspicious and doing my best to collect the best bugs I could get, paying attention to the spiders. They were a resource, even if they weren't the grade I was used to. I had flying bugs cart the spiders towards me. My ability didn't give me an intuitive sense of the type of spiders, which meant I would have to check them out, research and see which had the strongest silk to use for our placeholder costumes.
"Oh, man," Peter muttered as the first of the spider ferrying flies and roaches came towards us. Peter didn't stop, but the spiders jumped off, landing on me and finding places to perch while we ran. A few on my stomach died when I bumped against Peter, I spread this out so they were on my back.
"About to jump," said Peter. I took a breath and focused more on my bugs than my body. I felt the space we were moving towards, it was too large for just a jump, even so Peter moved faster and then leapt. The wind rushed past us. I heard the hiss of his web shooters shooting, felt the jolt, but it was a distance away, instead what was stronger were the bugs in my range: A mass of fleas which were on a group of three people and seven dogs. I focused on them, having them search for any eggs they might have laid and then pulling them towards me. I'd use the fleas as food for my spiders.
Peter landed with a grunt, stumbling a little before he righted himself and kept running, hopping from rooftop to rooftop.
"Straight line swing," he said and he jumped off a building, swinging in an arc with a slight curve, but better than the dramatic shift in direction. He did this twice before we moved higher and landed on another rooftop.
We stopped and I got off. He was breathing hard.
"Yeah," he said. He sat down, lying on his back. "I haven't felt tired in a long time, but the running finally did it. I'm going to sit. You do your thing."
I nodded, focusing on my bugs and feeling out through my range. It was cold, which meant my bugs wouldn't fare well when they were outside their warm homes, but I kept them clustered together, hoping the warmth would keep them long enough I could be done with this in ten minutes.
It was an invasion, but the same rules didn't apply here as they had in Earth Bet. I could search through homes without worrying about being singled out. I searched every place I could, even rifling through homes for anything large enough I was guaranteed a payment by the Crime Stoppers. Three minutes and I hadn't found anything, instead founding a stash of implements for partaking and a bag that seemed suspicious.
I thought about destroying it, but that might set off the user and they might take it out on those around them. Unless I was about to get them arrest for being a user, hiding their stash wouldn't do anything except cause trouble.
"Spider-Man," I said. Peter sat up. "That way. Drunk driver. He's driving slowly, but he's gone into incoming traffic three times. Bugs will lead the way."
"Right-o," he said. He jumped off his feet and then off the building. I felt him as he moved through the street, covering two blocks in quick order. He arrived and jumped onto the hood of the car, forcing the driver to come to a stop.
"What the fuck," the driver muttered.
"Hello, sir," said Peter, his voice chipper. "You seem to have had a little too much to drink tonight."
"You're…that guy, from YouTube," the man said, slurring some of the words.
"Yep, your friendly neighbourhood, Spider-Man. I'm going to have to take your keys," he said. "Can't have you putting other drivers in danger."
"Um…No," he said. "This could be you stealing my car. I'm going to drive away now." The car lurched forward. Peter jumped back, standing in front of the car. He thrust out and he stopped the car from moving forward.
"If I wanted to steal your car, then it'd be pretty easy," said he said. "Could you stop accelerating, please?"
The car stopped. Peter walked to the side and tested the door. It opened. He took the driver's key out.
"I'm going to call the police now," he said. "They'll keep you safe until you sober up."
"You don't need to do that, man," said the man. "You already have the keys. You could drive me home."
"Um…I don't have a licence," said Peter, "and it wouldn't do if I broke the law." He shrugged. "Don't worry about it. I'll tell them you flagged me down when saw you weren't good to drive. I don't think they'll arrest you."
The man only sighed. Peter called.
"Hello," he said, "this is Spider Man calling. I've just gotten the keys of a drunk driver and I'm a little confused how I'm supposed to move forward…No, this isn't a joke. Yes," and he sighed, "this is the guy from YouTube. No, seriously, this isn't a joke. If you don't come get this guy or something, then I'll be forced to take him home, which means leaving his car here and the possibility it might get stolen…. Yeah, I get it. Sure thing, I'll wait."
Time passed, the driver falling asleep after a short argument with Peter that he would have been home already if Peter had let him drive. A car passed by, slowed and then reversed, a woman taking out her phone and pointing it towards Peter. Peter waved and, after a moment, the woman waved back.
It took a little over ten minutes before a cop car showed up, sharing a quick conversation with Peter, before my brother swung towards me.
"You were watching?" he said as he landed.
I nodded. "You did good. One way or another you made an impression," I said.
"Cool. Find anything?"
I shook my head. "We do this two more times before we retire for the night."
Peter nodded. I got on his back and we were off.
We found nothing in the next group of blocks, and the next, and the next two. I kept collecting useful bugs, collecting fleas from what was starting to look like a sizable homeless community.
"That sucks," Peter muttered when I told him this.
"Sucks more because there isn't a handy way we can help them," I said and sighed, running a hand through my hair. It had stopped reminding me of Mom since the change of bodies, it had stopped being dark but taken on a brunette colour which edged a little on the dark side—still not dark as I was used to though. It meant I hadn't had the same emotional attachment and I'd been free to cut it shorter.
"Yeah," said Peter. "Maybe when we have money, we can…like, cart around food? Give it to them? There are soup kitchens, but…I really don't know what to do otherwise."
"It's a good idea," I said. I stopped, feeling something. "I think I just found a hidden greenhouse."
"Weed?" I nodded. "Should I make the call?"
I shrugged. "I'm suddenly wondering if we should. It's small, about the size of a bathroom, which doesn't make me think this is a legit operation. Maybe we should hold off making the call until it's something bigger, more arrests?"
"I feel like you're too focused on the money that you're forgetting what this is about. We're here to stop crime, and with your power we can stop it without the flash of my power. Having a weed farm is a crime."
"Give me a minute, I want to figure something out," I said. While still searching my greater range, I focused my attention on the apartment, getting a feel for the person who lived there. It was a family of four, three adults and one kid: Two adults were in the same bed, the other adult in their own room and the kid in their own. There were two guns in the apartment, but a gun said nothing. There seemed to be more guns in this America than I was used to in Earth Bet America.
They seemed to have a comfortable enough life, they didn't live in luxury, but they could afford. I searched for any uniforms, something to tell me they had another source of income besides selling weed and I only found a nurse's uniform. Of course, this didn't mean they weren't working, but without evidence, it was safer to assume they mainly lived through selling weed.
I sighed.
"We're not making the call, are we?" Peter asked.
"I'm thinking about sources of income," I said. "If we take this away from them, then…I don't know. I don't like the possibility we'd leave this family worse off for a relatively light drug. I know what they're doing is illegal, but…"
"Sometimes law can be wrong?" he said.
I shrugged. "Sometimes laws need to be questioned if it doesn't serve the people," I said.
"Yeah," said Peter. "Okay." He pulled up his sleeve, glancing at his watch. "Little after midnight. A few more blocks and then go home?"
I nodded and we left. We didn't find what we were looking for, with the only thing noteworthy being Peter escorting a gaggle of girls who'd chosen to walk from a club.
"You really should have taken a cab," Peter was saying as they walked. Three of the girls weren't listening, but one was paying a lot of attention to him. It was creepy since she was very likely in her early or mid-twenties, especially so when she was flirting.
Peter seemed not to notice and it was something to listen in as he blithely moved past her attempts at getting what I was thinking might be a date out of this.
"Picture!" one of the girls said when they were in front of their apartment. And then it quickly turned into a drunken mantra.
"Maybe next time, ladies," said Peter and he leapt, swinging away. "I didn't think it was a good idea to have a picture taken with drunk people…right?" he said to me.
"Double edged sword. Some people are stupid, they could use it to bad mouth you for being the drunken hero. But others would see what you're doing for what it was," I said. "It's a toss-up."
Peter shrugged.
"Nothing else," I said. "Let's get home. We want to be able to wake up early tomorrow, exercise."
Peter groaned. "We're still doing that?"
"Yeah. What made you think we weren't?"
"You said we'd start sparring. I thought running would be obsolete."
"Running is never obsolete," I said. "And unlike you, I need to build up stamina."
"I do too," he said. "It's just the bar is higher. Which means I have to run a whole lot longer before I'm tired enough to start working on stamina."
"Is that right?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"My power doesn't exactly grow," I said. "It's not like…I can control twenty bugs today, but if I keep pushing, I'll be able to control twenty-one the next day. It's more, I do what I do, nothing more, nothing less and I have to work at the nuances. I thought the same might be true for you too, that your power gives you a maximum strength and you just live with it."
"Nope," said Peter. "My powers grow. Except the preternatural balance. I don't really see how that can grow. But most of everything else can. I'm betting if I did yoga I'd be a lot more limber."
My head snapped towards Peter. "You know, May would love that."
"No," said Peter. "I am not doing yoga. That was just a joke."
***
"Hey, May," I said. Peter was in the kitchen eating, Aunt May was already dressed for our run. I wasn't, instead wearing sweats. "I was thinking you could maybe lead us through yoga."
Aunt May's breath hitched and a massive smile spread on her. Peter shot me a scowl, which quickly melted when Aunt May looked in his direction, and returned when she looked away and he looked at me.
'I'll get you for this,' he mouthed, going along as Aunt May had us push away the furniture, setting up the floor for the amateur yoga.