A National Past Time [Spider-Man] (Ask-to-Join)

[webdevil]

It was May in New York.

The weather was finally giving the people a break from the sleet and cold without the occasional one off day of sleet, the sun was getting up as early as six in the morning, and the weather was warming up to not warrant the need for gangly, impractical, costumes for the masked population of New York. It would have been nice if you didn't mind the occasional day buildings would get crumpled by alien invaders or costumed criminals with delusions of grandeur.

Take one Peter Parker for example.

This winter was not particularly kind to the man who led a double life as the Amazing Spider-Man. As Mr. Parker, high school science teacher at Midtown High, he was flooded with colds, flu, and all sorts of diseases that made his head spin from students that for the briefest of times, he wondered if he was in a class at all and not just sitting as his desk on his laptop debating whether or not it would be worth the risk to break school policy and play Final Fantasy XIV during work hours. And as Spider-Man, he was forced into his thicker, thermal layered suits that always left him feeling very chafed after every swing. Sure, they were a decided upgrade from the times he was a high schooler at Midtown himself and his first winter costumes were heavy woolen sweaters that kept falling off him, but fighting crime in the snow was no picnic.

His body - ode to all the lean muscle capable of bench pressing a couple of Elantras - ran a bit hotter than the average human, even among Olympic level athletes, so overheating in the thermals always ran the risk of a flash freeze when the costume came off and catching a cold himself. In the summer, it was arguable whether it was better or worse having to peel the costume off his skin. But spring and fall? He could go for hours and hours in just perfect weather. Which suited him just fine as he fired webline to webline from his SoHo apartment and into Manhattan. He was running late for a field trip - Sophomore field trip to the Yankees vs the Blue Jays that he was volunt-old to chaperone ode to being (funny enough) late to the faculty meeting and every teacher opting out - and had to find a suitable spot to reappear as Mr. Parker before he could get on the bus. He had to give the incentive of a free baseball game credit even when he wasn't the biggest fan of organized sports - thank you, Flash, he thought bitterly about his once bully-turned-close friend - it had the kids suddenly get over their colds and flus and showed up to class.

To be fair, Spidey thought as he made his way towards the high school campus and lingered on the ceiling to climb down towards his favourite changing spot: Baseball itself wasn't a bad sport at all - matter of fact, he was able to conduct a very enjoyable (for once) lesson with his students about angles, physics, and mathematics of the game that even the two ball players in his class, a skinny but fast kid named Charlie Masters and a large slugger Javier Rodriguez, kids who were both in his class not by choice but because failing science meant losing their spots on the team, took notice.

"Gonna be honest: Never thought a guy like you knew much about the game, Mr. Parker," said Javier to him after class. This took Peter aback somewhat as Javier usually met his gaze with little more than a scowl.

"Hey, I did help coach the basketball team during the season, I'm not *that* ignorant about sports," replied Peter with a casual, easy grin. This tended to give students the impression that late-twenty-something Mr. Parker was a bit of a pushover. Coupled with his nerdy appearance, that impression only intensified with the new semester and the new round of students he was saddled with. Guess some things will never die, thought Peter to himself, as memories of Flash Thompson flitted into his head here.


But that was yesterday, he thought, and this was today. And after tucking his mask in his pocket and triple checking not a square inch of his costume was exposed over the dress shirt and pants he wore underneath a very old Yankees jersey and equally old ballcap, he stepped out from behind the spot, and into the building, making a beeline for the staff room to grab the roll call and the voucher for the tickets. He pulled out his phone and gave a sigh of relief. Despite the panicked web swinging, he actually made it seven minutes early for his scheduled time to arrive. For once, and knowing his Parker luck this was entirely subject to change, he was having a good day.

[Rift]

Flash Thompson stared at the entrance to Midtown High, lost in memories. Back when he attended, an age that seemed somehow both just yesterday and yet forever ago, he was king of the campus. Star quarterback, a hit with the girls, and possibly the most popular student. Everyone loved him. Well, almost everyone.

The truth was far more depressing. Yeah, he was popular enough that even being the president and founder of the Spider-Man Fanclub hadn't been able to damage his image, but in actuality he was bully of the highest order. Most assumed it was just the natural order of the world. Jocks pick on geeks and nerds, so he was simply fulfilling his predestined role of being an athletic buffoon who only earned an A in being a jerk. Little did his classmates, victims, or even friends know that he was compensating, venting on those weaker than him because he had no control at home. His father was a drunk and a bully and young Eugene was his primary target, whenever it wasn't directed at his mom. It had taken Flash a long time to realize why he had been as he was, but his time in the service had given him perspective and let him grow.

At least that was what he told himself. He was different now, he wasn't just a copy of his father, and he was a good man. The past was the past and now instead of shoving geeks like Peter Parker into lockers he was dropping terrorists with superpowers into high security SHIELD facilities. He'd never felt like a hero as a soldier, just a man doing the right thing, but since his injuries and subsequent induction into the club that was Venom hosts he could legitimately start liking himself.

Only because of us, Flash. You are not a hero without us. Together we make Venom, together we are champions of good, but alone? Alone you are a broken weapon, a disappointment who can't even stand anymore, just like daddy. We are the only friend you need. These people from your past would never understand. They never had your back, but we do. the symbiote cooed in his mind.

Flash tried to ignore the voice as he lowered his wheelchair out into the parking lot. He tried to ignore a lot of things these days, including the fact that the last time he'd parked in the handicap spot it was because he couldn't be bothered to wait for a proper space. Now he legitimately needed it. He couldn't help but think the very fact he'd been asked to come by to discuss being a special speaker at this year's graduation had to be because even the school knew he was better now. After all, he'd initially simply volunteered to be chaperone for their field trip. Surely they wouldn't have asked more of him if they hadn't seen the truth of how he'd changed over the years.

They don't care Flash. This isn't about you. They know you work with injured veterans, they know you are a war hero, and the Army is having a harder time recruiting now. You are just being a puppet to the system yet again.

Pushing himself along he stopped into the main office to let them know he was there only to learn that the vice principal had rescheduled. Flash had apparently missed the message while on mission or gotten dates mixed, or some such nonsense. He couldn't help but wonder if the symbiote was having more of an effect on his sense of time than he realized. Glancing at his watch he realized that if he didn't hurry, the delay would make him late for chaperone duties.

This is taking FOREVER! Just use us. Let us be your legs. Tell everyone it is a fancy new prosthetic and we can...

Having finally had enough if the symbiote's comments he snapped, "No! You are for missions only. Don't make me take extra meds just to quiet you down!"

A student nearby stopped in confusion and asked "Sir? You say something?"

Flash grinned at the kid and hooked a thumb towards an awards case. "Yeah, I uh, I said they just couldn't quiet down that night!"

"You used to go here?" the young man asked.

"Sure did. They called me Flash cause on that field nobody was faster," he responded.

"Oh, neat," the kid said, his head already down in his phone.

"Yeah, yeah it was..." Flash said sadly, swearing he could hear his Other chuckling.

He took a deep breath and rolled on, trying not to worry that the drugs that suppressed Venom were being less effective than usual and trying not to find truth in it's tainted words. Try as he might though he couldn't help but wonder what would become of him. Sooner or later the government would say he'd run one too many missions, that the bonding process would overcome him, and take the symbiote to be given to another soldier. What would he be then?

[webdevil]

Peter popped his key into the staff room lock, twisted it, heard the noisy click, and the door slid open. He was - unfortunately for him - not alone. The scraping of the door frame on the linoleum as it transitioned into carpet gave the person inside the staff room a slight start, and Peter was given the image of a blown-out blond, fortyish, woman dressed in all (and very obnoxious) shades of pink.

"Julie. Hi," said Peter as he slid inside.

Peter internally sighed. Of course. Julie worked in administration, and was - beyond doubt - his workplace nemesis here at Midtown High. Constantly on his case about his periodic absences, and never letting up for even the slightest faux pas, Julie's pencil pushing methodology was like taking a cheese grater to the side of the head. Actually, Peter thought for a moment as Julie placed her hands on her hips and gave him a scowl, the cheese grater would at least do something useful if he had an itch.

"Oh. It's you," she said with an expression that could not be plainer that she was not happy to see him.

"Is the sky blue?" asked Peter.

"What?" she asked, frowning at him.

Insulting Julie from Administration was like throwing rocks into the ocean. There is a little ripple, but the ocean doesn't even know it is happening.

"Look, I'm just here to get what I need for the trip. Can we skip the whole verbal jousting for today?" asked Peter, and Julie began chewing the inside of her cheek. She looked at him appraisingly for a moment before speaking.

"I need you to sign this, indicating you got what you needed," she said after a tense silence, holding up a pink (of course it was pink) clipboard with a sheaf of paper for him to sign. The irony about all this? Julie was actually a hardcore Spider-Man fangirl who bordered on groupie on the socials. If she only knew, mused Peter as he took the pink clipboard, popped out the pen resting in the clip, and signed all the spots he needed to sign.

After taking the clipboard back, Julie made for the door, stopping as she put her hand on the handle.

"Everything is on the counter there, oh and your other chaperone's running a bit late," she said.

"Why are they running late?" Peter asked with a raised eyebrow. Julie shrugged.

"I don't run Veterans Affairs, guess the person they sent lost track of time," she said cooly, and made her way out the door.

That woman was evil. The sheer disrespect. Peter barely restrained himself from giving the door a rather rude hand gesture, but barely. Aunt May would have scolded him something fierce if he did. That thought alone made him snort, and grabbed the roll call clipboard and envelope with the vouchers. He asked faculty if they could just email him the vouchers but, they cited budget cuts as an excuse (which made less sense since it would cost less to just send a digital file without needing to chop down a tree to print the paper, not to mention the office supply budget, but whatever).

He left the staff room and made his way down the hall, past the Principal's office, and was greeted to an exiting wheelchair with a very familiar occupant.

"Flash!?" he said, his eyes widening in complete surprise.

[Rift]

Flash was shaken from his brooding as Peter Parker approached. It had been awhile since he'd last seen him. There were a couple get togethers that had been planned, a few dinners or meet ups at the old diner, but Flash had somehow managed to avoid attending most of them. Even when Betty tried pushing him to socialize with old friends or even roping him into something by surprise he'd dodged it.

Part of the time it was work. Couldn't exactly hang around friends when duty called. He was always on call so if Uncle Sam decided he had to deploy to a warzone because Venom was needed for a clandestine mission in a country he couldn't pronounce let alone find on a map, he answered. Then there were times when the missions had taken a toll and the images of dead civilians and the horrors of conflict would have kept him from being good company. The rest of the time, even before the symbiote, he knew that it was all him. He had been the good-looking jock, number one man on campus, and now he was literally half the man he used to be. Sure Peter and MJ and Betty would never say anything, but deep down he didn't want anyone, especially his pals to look at him like a charity case. Even if it was in his head, he didn't want to put himself through that or to make them feel bad when he snapped for no reason or showed up three sheets to the wind just to make it through a conversation.

"Pete? Dude! Good to see ya! It's been a minute huh?" he said, extending a hand. "Really brings back memories, you and me, here of all places."

Granted, probably not the best of memories considering I was such a jerk back then, he thought.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, before remembering that Parker actually worked there. "I mean, beyond teaching tomorrows nerds today?"

[webdevil]

"Really brings back memories, you and me, here of all places."

Peter quirked a highly pronounced yet bemused eyebrow. He could tell from Flash's expression after saying this that they were both thinking the same thing. But Peter did not hold it against his old friend. After college and his time in the army, Flash and him really did bond and found out they had a lot in common, even more so once Harry... Yeah.

"I mean, beyond teaching tomorrows nerds today?"

"Well besides the reversal of duds, it seems we're partners on this particular assignment, Flash," said Peter, giving a quick nod to the fact this time around it was Peter in the baseball attire and the fact they were both going to be the chaperones for the kids. Peter looked past Flash for a second and saw the school bus was outside the door and beginning to see kids filing around it.

"Huh. And I almost didn't think any would show," he added in an undertone and then gave Flash an open hand motion.

"You wanna lead this one off?" he asked, keeping with the baseball metaphors in the hopes whatever Flash was dealing with at the moment, it would trigger a spark of the man who strutted his stuff in these halls a decade plus prior.

[Rift]

Flash smirked.

Even after all this time Pete is still a dork. It's baseball, but he's gonna turn it into rocket science. Kids are lucky I'm here to save them from boredom and Pete from them, he thought.

"Heh, why wouldn't they? After all who would want to miss the opportunity to listen to Puny Parker ramble on about aerodynamics and trajectories at a game that's been considered pure fun by the nation since forever?" he joked as he turned his wheelchair towards the bus. "I've got this. Just remember baskets, goals, and touchdowns are the other sports Pete."

Smiling and happy to be both back around sports and with his friend, he rolled towards the kids and dipped into the quarterback voice he used back when he was king of the field.

"Alright guys and girls, line up one at a time, single file. I'm Flash Thompson, you might have heard of me and even ogled some of the records and trophies still hanging in the halls. Well this is your lucky day because I've been asked to make sure you all get to and from the game with all your bits and pieces still where they belong. Also I was the master of not paying attention even on field trips so I know all the tricks and if you haven't noticed I'm low enough to see it all, so don't even try it. Oh and I know Mr. Parker can put an insomniac out with his figures and data, but I assure you the love of this beautiful game we call baseball will more than make up for it, so no snoozing."

He turned over his shoulder, grinning wide as he gave Peter a thumbs up. Despite the joy he was feeling, he couldn't help but notice that the symbiote, calmer now that the drugs were keeping it from thinking too much, seemed agitated. It was a cold, tingle at the base of his neck as if it were highly bothered by something.

What's your problem? Don't have baseball in whatever weird planet you came from or are you more of a hockey fan? That would explain a lot of what's wrong with you, he thought towards the symbiote. He received no reply.

[webdevil]

"Alright guys and girls, line up one at a time, single file. I'm Flash Thompson, you might have heard of me and even ogled some of the records and trophies still hanging in the halls. Well this is your lucky day because I've been asked to make sure you all get to and from the game with all your bits and pieces still where they belong. Also I was the master of not paying attention even on field trips so I know all the tricks and if you haven't noticed I'm low enough to see it all, so don't even try it. Oh and I know Mr. Parker can put an insomniac out with his figures and data, but I assure you the love of this beautiful game we call baseball will more than make up for it, so no snoozing."

"Yeah right," came a voice, a young man's, trying hard to speak in an undertone that nevertheless carried.

"Where's his legs?" came another, a girl's.

"Whitey Crip think he's Rambo or sumthin'?" came a third, talking to the first boy.

Peter's students were once more proving how different they are compared to when Flash was the big man on campus and he the wee science nerd. These were at-risk kids whose living situations were dealt so poorly they have grown cynical years ahead of their time. He had hoped a baseball game would take their mind off this situation but..

Then the last remark got a few people to chuckle a little. Peter smiled a self-deprecating grin at Flash's taunt (same old Flash indeed, he thought) and with that he pulled out the sheef of vouchers.

"These have the barcode for you to scan into the stadium. Do not lose these," he said and with that began issuing them out. Once he had handed them all out, he began motioning everybody to get onto the bus with him and Flash just outside the door.

"I, uh, probably should have warned you about the kids, Flash. They, uh, well, guess you got an idea..." he stated putting a hand behind his neck as the stars of the school ball team got on the bus and made their way to the back.

[Rift]

"Heh, its fine Pete. Heard worse in bootcamp and I still had all my original parts back then. Besides, they are growing up in a different world than we did, but a lot of the issues remain the same. I was a Grade A jerk back then remember? Just about the only thing I was making good grades in. I was acting out for a lot of reasons even if I didn't know why back then. People like you became targets because I couldn't vent on the people and problems I was really angry at. But look at me now! I'd like to think I'm a better dude and it ain't all thanks to Uncle Sam you know. I had pals I didn't deserve in my corner, people like you, and that's something I have in common with these kids. Sometimes all it takes is a little push in the right direction, to know someone has your back, to help you turn your whole life around. If you are half as good a teacher as you are a friend, I think these brats have a chance," Flash responded.

Truth was he had heard worse before. When he was a kid it was from his dad, freshly home off his latest bender. After the service it sometimes came from people who saw him rolling down the street or when he was going to the VA and civilians who had never seen conflict beyond a television screen made a comment under their breath. Heck, he'd heard worse from himself whenever he looked in the mirror on the days he was feeling particularly down. Being the butt of jokes and rude comments had been a shock for a time, especially considering he was used to being the one to deal them out, but he'd learned to block out those negative things. With time, therapy, and help from friends like Peter and MJ he'd managed to come to grips with his new situation.

And then there's you, he thought towards the symbiote. Try as I might to exclude you from the equation, you've helped me too, even if its been against your will.

Being able to serve his country again after thinking he'd never again be able to help, being able to finally live up to the example set by his hero Spider-Man, that had gone a long way in helping him feel like a whole person again.

If the symbiote had heard him it hadn't responded in any way. Flash figured the drugs had finally taken effect and it was in La-La land for the time being. Still, ever since he ran into Peter it somehow felt...off. He couldn't quite make out what the issue was, but it was as if the symbiote was brimming with anger, like a person so mad they were shaking with rage but couldn't verbalize it.

That or you are more sensitive to what the kids said than you thought and you are projecting it onto the alien, he thought.

With all the students loaded into the bus, Flash made a show of the fact that he didn't need help getting himself or the chair loaded in. 

Okay, so I'm a better guy than I was, but I still got an ego. Sue me.

The trip to the stadium was largely normal. Only once did Flash have to gently remind a pair of young lovebirds that they were not, in fact, invisible in the back of the bus. As they traveled Flash saw even more parallels between when he and Peter were kids and now. Sure, the kids were all tough or at least projecting the image of toughness to their peers, but even among kids equally hurting and struggling with the hands they'd been dealt, there were cliques. The jocks stuck together being louder and more boisterous than the others, kids in all black with painted nails and neon colored hair formed their own section, and the kids would have bet money went home and read comic books but acted like they were straight out of a rap video sat trying to look as uninterested and annoyed at the world as they could. Of course, back in his day half the bus wouldn't have been buried nose first in their phones or had playlists going.

Man, long way from CDs and cassette tapes. I even remember a couple of away games where we were blasting tunes through a boombox to psyche ourselves up. That...really shows your age Thompson. They already think you are useless, last thing you need to do is remind them you are old too.

As they arrived and prepared for everyone to depart the bus, he couldn't help but notice that Peter was in his element. Brats though they were, Pete was passionate about teaching them and being a good example. Their lack of interest and the infinite distractions technology provided, didn't seem to dim his spirit or enthusiasm. It made him smile to see that Parker had channeled his gifts into a career he enjoyed.

"Alright ladies and gentlemen, we are here. So that means earbuds out, phones off, and if I catch you ignoring teach here because of texts I will gladly show you why I have the Midtown High passing record by chucking those phones so far and so fast, the team may just hire me on the spot!" he announced, tossing a thumbs up at Peter.

Yeah, I got this, he thought.

"That out the way be prepared to witness one of the greatest sports in all creation. The diamond is a beautiful thing second only to the gridiron and proper respect will be shown. Oh and uh, you will learn numbers and equations and stuff about friction and force and all that jazz too. Also, I know what a fake ID looks like so those who thought you could use them to avail yourselves of adult beverages at the concession stands had better think twice."

[webdevil]

Before the students were allowed to go through the turnstiles, Peter called them all around for one more talk.

"Now just remember: Do not wander the stadium alone. I want everybody back here for headcount by the end of the game. And remember for those of you in Mrs. Little's history class to stay here with me so we can go through the hall. The rest of you, Mr. Thompson's got his eye on you so I would not stray too far past concessions. Alright? Alright. Enjoy the game, guys,"

The students smiled (some smirked but Peter ignored that) and while a solid 4/5ths of them made their way for the turnstiles, about a dozen or so students remained, including the star slugger himself, Javier.

"Didn't know you took American history, Javier," said Peter, who as he recalled, Junior Year history was an elective. Javier shrugged.

"It was just a credit, Mr. P. But after that last class, I figure gotta be more to the game than just what's on the field, right?"

Peter was slightly taken aback. Javier up until this point (at least for science class, which was to Peter's knowledge, Javier's second attempt at) showed little interest to anything outside of Baseball. Could this be a breakthrough? Peter smiled.

"Well, if any team will give you an easy A in history class, it's the Yankees. Though between you and me I'm more of a Mets fan," he said, leaning in with a mock whisper. Javier laughed and then led the rest of the group ahead towards the turnstiles. Peter pulled out his phone and sent a text to MJ.

At the Stadium. Should we be voting for the Bombers or the Jays?

He texted this knowing the response would screw up MJ's patriotism mingling with her passion for the Mets. She always let it be known to Peter her childhood heartbreak of being there for the Subway series and watching the Mets get crunched in Game 5 at old Shea. Peter remembered that game, tho he was not there. He wondered if he ever saw Uncle Ben that heartbroken before or since in his life. Smiling at the fond memory for a moment, he turned to Flash and decided to pass on a similar topic.

"Should we be more concerned the kids will be rooting for the Jays? I mean they are higher in the standings last I checked and won 10 of their last 12..."

[Super Chick]

Call her crazy, but something inside MJ thought throwing out the first pitch at a baseball game would be fun. She thought, "Gee, how hard can it be to throw a ball to the catcher?" Pitchers do it all the time, right? But then, that's the point: They do it all the time! They make it look easy. Mary Jane realized this this a little late, however. It was T-minus fifteen minutes to the big moment. She'd been throwing the baseball to the catcher in the hall between the bleachers of the stadium just to kind of warm up. The problem was, when he squatted about as far away from her as he would be from the pitcher's mound, MJ realized she had no game at all! The ball kept hitting the ground before it reached him. The guy was nice and said she could stand in front of the pitcher's mound when she threw the pitch, but MJ was mortified. How would it look if a girl couldn't throw the ball sixty feet? She knew she had to do better.

With a deep sigh, MJ waved the catcher off. "Give me a few minutes," she said. "I'll stretch and get it right. I know I can do this."

MJ walked away and did a couple of small stretches with her arms before reaching into her pocket and pulling out her phone. She knew Peter was bringing his class to the game today. She supposed that was also why she was struggling with throwing the darn ball. She couldn't recall the last time she had trouble throwing a baseball at anyone.

Er, to anyone.

Her finger hit the button to pull up her texts. MJ saw the text from Peter and her lips twisted in a mix of humor and chagrin. She'd have to make sure he was watching the first pitch. Normally, he'd be watching everything else, but if MJ was going to lower herself to grace the Yankees with her presence at their game, he was darn well going to watch! After all, if this wasn't sacrifice, MJ didn't know what was!

"Hey, baby," she texted. "Glad you're in your seats. I hear somebody you know is throwing out the first pitch. Can't remember her name, though..."

[Rift]

Flash smirked, thankful for the distraction.

"Absolutely we should be concerned. That's borderline unpatriotic. I swear that I saw a guy court martialed for rooting for them when I was in Fallujah. Either that or he was simping for the Raiders, either way. Bandwagon fans are the worst and if it isn't curbed when they are young they grow up to become malcontents. Like you know all those C-listers who think they can take on Spidey? Like the stilt guy, disco dude, or that chick that does social media? I guarantee you they were bandwagon fans as kids."

Unlike yours truly, he thought. I'm loyal to my teams win, lose, or draw. It's why I'm still unashamed of the whole Spidey fan club thing.

Glancing around, taking in the sights, sounds, and aroma of the stadium he smiled.

"Man, really brings back memories don't it Pete? I mean I know the gridiron was my thing, but you remember that game from when I was giving baseball a go? I know I was a grade A jerk back then, but I'd be lying if I didn't admit that your brainiac advice didn't help me hit that homer. It's funny you know? Even before I was willing to get out of my own way, you were helping me, teaching me. And here you are doing it for a whole slew of kids from the next generation. I think this whole teacher thing suits ya Parker."

[webdevil]

"Man, really brings back memories don't it Pete? I mean I know the gridiron was my thing, but you remember that game from when I was giving baseball a go? I know I was a grade A jerk back then, but I'd be lying if I didn't admit that your brainiac advice didn't help me hit that homer. It's funny you know? Even before I was willing to get out of my own way, you were helping me, teaching me. And here you are doing it for a whole slew of kids from the next generation. I think this whole teacher thing suits ya Parker."

"Why thank you, Mr. Thompson. Tho between you and me? I think this next part is something even you would have loved in high school, if only to envision your pictures and accomplishments next to theirs like you had at Midtown. Come on,"

Peter guided the class over to their tour guide who then proceeded to show them an extensive history of the Yankees, from seeing field used Jerseys worn by the Babe himself, able to hold his bat ("oh wow, this is huge!" said Javier when that bat came out. "He PLAYED with this!?") and ran through the hall of Yankees, the retired numbers tradition, Jackie Robinson's section, where several people stopped here, which gave Peter a chance to look at his phone. A message. Better check when we get to the seats. The history lesson ran for about an hour and he could have sworn he saw Flash stop his chair to linger at some of the history perhaps a little longer than the students with a smile on his face.

By the time they were led out into the stadium proper, Peter was finally able to open his phone. Ten minutes til game time. It was MJ.

"Oh hey, MJ messaged," he said off-the-cuff to Flash, and then read the message.

"Glad you're in your seats. I hear somebody you know is throwing out the first pitch. Can't remember her name, though..."

Peter's eyes widened and then he looked up. They were at eye-level with the field and he saw a violent shade of red hair just off to the side in Yankee pinstripes.

"She WHAT!?" he said, feeling his face turn just as red as his wife's hair, and her smile that had more wattage than all the lights in the Bronx.

"AND NOW, HERE TO THROW OUT THE CEREMONIAL FIRST PITCH, ACTRESS OF THE LOBSTER-MAN MOVIES, MARY JANE WATSON-PARKER!"

As soon as her name was announced, he saw Javier and several of the students around him turn their heads in his direction, mouths wide open. Peter was suddenly worrying how red he was...