My first blog-exclusive post! That's right folks, this is the first story I've ever written that will only be viewable on this blog. ^_^
It's kind of a sad offering, I know, especially in smut terms. But after writing my darkest fic ever in "Have Yourself A Heartless Little Christmas" (viewable on y!Gallery), I needed some light-hearted humor. Spider-Man, obliging fellow that he is, stepped up to the plate. ^_^
Even though it's erotica-light (darn near porn-free, to be precise!), I hope you enjoy it. ^_^
~*~
Make It Better
"Spider-MAAAAAN, SPIIII-der-maaaan, does whatever a SPIII-der caaaaan..."
This has, without a doubt, got to be the worst night I could possibly have picked to go web-slinging, Peter thought to himself as he listened to the street musician with the really bad Engrish accent butcher the theme song from that lame-ass cartoon.
JJ's got the Bugle on my case...insert gasp of surprise there...Felicia's disappeared into thin air, and..oh joy and rapture!...MJ's new production has just gotten its own 5th-Avenue billboard!
Said billboard was just across the street from the rooftop where Peter Parker was feeling sorry for himself this week. MJ looked as bright and bubbly as ever...not to mention wicked hot in the period costume the show had her in.
If her corset pushed them up anymore, she'd double as a flotation device. Not that *I'd* complain, but...
This picture...every picture he'd seen of MJ since she left him...looked so alive and happy it made Peter's heart ache and teeth itch. Not to mention successful...starring in everything from Rent to Phantom, MJ was making money hand over fist.
I should've proposed. Maybe if we'd gotten married, she'd have seen how serious I was. And if we'd split up anyway, I could be rolling in alimony right no--
Pete's pityfest was suddenly interrupted by the tingling of his Spider-Sense, followed by the materialization of a dozen silent figures in red hoods and gi.
"Oh, yippee! Ninjas! I just love ninjas!"
His worries forgotten for the moment, Spidey bounced through the battlefield, black costume making him all but invisible in the shadows.
Well, almost. The giant white spider was sort of like a massive target saying "DEPOSIT SHURIKEN HERE," and the Hand were doing their darnedest to do just that. Still, for someone with a spider-sense and -reflexes, it was not that complicated to dodge a throwing star. Or ten. Or thirty.
"Where do you people get all of these?"
He ducked low, limbs splayed wide as four or five whiz overhead.
"Cause not to be a cheapskate or anything..."
A sword-swipe aimed at his ankles made Spidey jump about twelve feet off the roof, landing in a handstand on the shoulders of one assassin.
"But you Hand flunkies must completely splurge when Wal-Mart has a throwing-star sale!"
Another swordstroke, aimed at his wrists, triggered Spidey's next move, a spring-powered mule-kick aimed at a tight cluster of genin, which turned into a ricochet effect where he hit three more fist-first and lands in a crouched position again.
"It must really bite you in the wallet when it comes time to pay the water bill. Maybe that's why you all smell like brimstone."
The ninja who were still on their feet closed in on Spidey, weapons at the ready, and he tilted his head.
"Why, boys, I'm flattered! But one at a time, please! My swinging days are all but behind me!"
Shooting a webline, Spidey swung on it in a massive circle, his spider-strength-empowered legs bowling the entire regiment of ninja over from the side in one fell swoop. Landing, he made a show of dusting off his hands.
"Welll...maybe not totally behind me."
I love ninjas. They simple things up so much. Now I've got a great idea for what to take to the Bugle tomorrow morning!
Arranging the unconscious bodies of the ninja in a pile, Peter web-glued his camera to a wall across the street, making sure the telephoto lens was attached, the timer was set, and most importantly, that he had a clear shot.
"Merry Christmas, JJ..."
Unfortunately, by the time he made it back to the battle site, the Hand's bodies had dissolved into dust, leaving only their uniforms behind.
"CRAP!"
The only shot Peter ended up keeping was one of Spider-Man, crouched defeatedly over a score of empty Hand uniforms. Sighing, he looked at the picture, and decided it was one for his private collection.
Ah, well...
"Bad night, bub?"
Peter jumped at least ten feet, turning a full 180 degrees in midair before landing in a crouch to face his stalker. Lifting a match to the cigarette dangling from his lips, Wolverine smirked at the slimmer hero.
"Logan! Dammit, you know better than to do that!" He stopped for a second. "...wait. How DID you do that?!"
Flicking the match off the rooftop, Logan let his smirk become a full-fledged grin. "Relax, kiddo. Yer spidey-sense didn't pick me up 'cause it knows I don't mean ya no harm.
"In fact..." his grin became lascivious as his hands went to the waist of his jeans. "I could make this a helluva visit, if ya want."
Peter's jaw dropped at the same time as Logan's pants. Good God, he's huge! I had no idea he was...
Then he was on his knees, and all coherent thought disappeared.
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