Y/N L/N

Do you ever wonder how many people are in the world at any given time and think, wow what were the chances that I ran into the person I was just thinking about? Some call it fate, some call it a divine intervention - I call it excessive research and a case of light stalking.

Evelyn Lockwood was the chief of public relations and communications at SHIELD, an intelligence agency that specialised in the management and deployment of enhanced and other worldly beings. In essence, they were the big dogs when it came to knowing shit about superheroes and supervillains. I had emailed multiple team members at SHIELD in the attempts to get a hold of Ms. Lockwood, hopefully setting up a meeting to ask her about my latest Spider-Man story. Although email after email, I was led further astray or down an never ending rabbit hole.

Last time I tried to get in contact with a member of SHIELD to conduct my interviews with Baron Zemo, I charismatically talked my way into it at a Stark Convention. I knew that the specific man I was after was in attendance, I struck up a conversation and voila, he let me in. Like I mentioned before, I'm a professional at negotiating what I want.

So I thought that this time around, I'd try the same thing. I knew that Evelyn Lockwood was a guest lecturer at NYU one afternoon and that she would have time afterwards to chat to the students. That was my chance to get a minute of her time and convince her why I needed a security pass into the prison system.

Through hours and hours of research, I looked into some of Spider-Man's earlier local arrests. He was first spotted in his suit at the Avengers Airforce base after a mission and the world started to speculate the newest addition to the superhero group. He was then spotted more frequently around New York and that's when he became the cities hero. I saw his first major bust several years ago, leading to the arrest of Adrian Toomes a.k.a Vulture. That really put Spider-Man on the map, he wasn't just a sidekick to the Avengers, he was a fully fledged hero.

Adrian Toomes was locked away in The Raft with a life sentence but several of his henchmen were detained at Rykers Prison here in New York. Article after article, video after video, there was one name that came up more than the others; Mr. Phineas Mason. Apparently he was Vulture's right hand man, his number two and arguably the brains behind the whole show.

If I could just talk to Phineas for half an hour, I could find out if he knew anything about Spider-Man. And the woman who could approve the highest security clearances for press releases and interviews?

Evelyn Lockwood.

"Miss Lockwood, so lovely to meet you. I want a journalist security pass to interview Phineas Mason," I said bluntly, shaking her hand and smiling.

The bus to Rykers wasn't particularly a pleasant one. Most people occupying the seats around me were fellow criminals going to visit their buddies or forlorn spouses of inmates inside. It was awfully macabre just sitting in silence as the bus took us from main land New York, out to Rykers island. I approached the security guards at the entrance, showed them my fresh shiny badge saying 'JOURNALIST' on the front and was escorted into the main visitation room.

As I waited on a cold plastic chair, a guard brought Phineas Mason to the opposite side of the table, attaching his handcuffs to the metal bar built into it. Before he left, he reminded us both of the rules:

1) No touching
2) No passing of contraband
3) No inappropriate behaviour

No touching, shit that's going to be hard.
Phineas Mason wasn't how I expected the number two to a criminal mastermind to look. He was short, pale and starting to bald. He was quite overweight despite most inmates losing significant amounts of weight after being detained and his facial hair had grown into a short yet bushy beard. He kind of looked like a scared teddy bear in his prison jumpsuit.

"Mr. Mason, I'm so grateful that you agreed to speak with me. I'm sure you get visitors like myself all the time," I smiled, pushing my cup of water towards his handcuffs so that he could lift it towards his mouth.

"Believe it or not, I rarely get visitors anymore. Thank you for this by the way," he nodded, carefully picking up the plastic cup and taking a small gulp.

It's not often that you get access to chilled water when you're incarcerated, so Phineas savoured the luxury of having a refrigerated drink as we spoke. I didn't want to go too hard too fast and go straight into the heavy hitting questions, so I eased into the conversation by asking about his career. He was a brilliant mind, a true engineer who fiddled around with new technology until it worked the way he wanted it to. The Tinkerer, the perfect name for a villain like him.

As much as I would have loved to speak with him further, he unfortunately told me that he never saw Spider-Man unmasked. Although he did remember a conversation with Vulture where it was revealed that Adrian in fact saw the man behind the mask.

"So this Tinkerer guy never saw Spider-Man's face? That's kind of a bummer," Peter huffed, sitting on the floor of my living room and flicking a pretzel into the air before catching it in his mouth proudly. I clapped at him sarcastically when he looked at me for praise.

"Nope. But Vulture apparently saw him," I said scratching Pickles behind his ears as he curled up on the couch next to me.

Peter brings me cat supplies quite often now, and more than just boxes of kibble too. First it started with food, then it moved to toys and then a fluffy cat bed. He said it's to make Pickles feel at home since he spends so much time up here. I don't mind though, I really like Pickles hanging out with me. Plus, I think it gives Peter an excuse to come upstairs and flirt with me; which I also don't mind.

"Too bad you can't go and talk to him instead then... The Raft is like, the most high security prison in the world," Peter chuckled.

"Yeah, the inmates aren't ever allowed guests and it's practically impossible to get in without a government cleared security pass," I explained.

"Good luck getting our nazi fucking government to give you approval then," Peter laughed.

"Oh that's already taken care of, I'm visiting tomorrow," I said smugly, showing him the email confirmation on my phone from Evelyn Lockwood herself.

It hadn't taken any back and forth before Evelyn agreed to give me clearance. And to be fair, I might have been a little ruthless with her given I had stopped taking my medication several days ago. I picked up my new prescription refill on time, I just thought I didn't really need them right now.

"What the fuck... You're bullshitting me, how on earth did you manage to convince her to let you in?!" Peter said squinting at my phone and looking at the email for himself.

"Same way I convinced them to let me in to interview Zemo last year, with my charisma and charm," I joked.

That's a lie. I mean, it's half of a lie. I do think of myself as pretty charismatic and charming. I'm pretty silver tongued when it comes down to business. Peter looked at me before speaking, hesitating perhaps. Or maybe he was just distracted and trying to remember what I just said. Or he's half asleep. Or he's bored. Either way, Peter always seems a bit 'out of it'.

"That just sounds like you slept your way into a security pass," Peter laughed.

"Wow fuck you! You really think I'm that type of girl? I'm not some modern day Monica Lewinsky thank you very much," I pouted jokingly, chuckling with him.

Peter had come home from work shortly after I had, seeing me tend to some of my plants on the fire escape and walking up to say hello. The snowy weather made our teeth chatter and lips turn blue as we spoke briefly, prompting me to invite him inside to continue our conversation. He made himself at home whenever he came over, lounging on the sofa or laying on the floor with Pickles. He never invites into me to his apartment though, he says he's really messy and he's too embarrassed to let me see it.

"I can imagine you being the type to fuck your way to the top of the food chain," he grinned.

"Are you admitting to imagining me having sex? You're such a creep," I said raising my eyebrows.

"You wish I'd imagine that about you," he laughed.

To be honest, I couldn't figure out what Peter Parker's intentions were. He was mysterious and enigmatic, confusing but oh so simple. He was sweet and quiet, but dark and broody. We got along pretty well and hung out here and there when neither of us had shifts.

Although we never got much deeper than surface level friendship. I barely knew anything about him and he barely knew anything about me. He didn't do much either, he just slept and worked like the majority of people our age. He went out to bars on weekends and brought girls home occasionally, which again was pretty normal. Yet something about him wasn't quite right, and I couldn't put my finger on it.

"As long as I'm good at sex in your imagination then it's all fine with me," I joked.

"Oh no, I'm definitely imagining you being the worst fuck in the entire world," Peter laughed.

God, I really want to sleep with Peter Parker. Something about his dorky science jokes and messy hair suddenly switching to this smug cocky flirting makes me want to tear his clothes off. How does he change between two completely different personalities so quickly? Fuck, is it bad to sleep with a neighbour when you live in such a small building? What if it's really bad sex and I have to let him down softly? Or even worse, what if it's really good and I become the one who ends up wanting more?

"Get out of here, I could be the god damn messiah of sex for all you know," I said rolling my eyes.

"Oh yeah? Let's put it to the test then, prove me wrong," he smirked, laying down on his back and bending his knees up.

See? Like that, this adorably awkward guy only a year older than me can suddenly become this dark and lustful man in the span of two seconds. It throws me off, I can't tell whether he's joking or whether he actually wants me. He says these things so casually and with such confidence that I can't read him. He will flirt with me, then back off entirely, then say something to change the subject and then I'll catch him perving on me later on.

"Shut up Parker, I don't need to prove anything to you. Besides, you're too occupied screwing other girls anyway," I teased, calling him out on the fact I heard banging and moaning coming from his apartment late last night.

"You been spying on me?" He asked sarcastically, laughing and running his hands through his hair as he looked up at the ceiling and rested his hands behind his head.

"It's hard to not listen when the bed frame is slamming against the wall over and over," I teased again.

"Remind me to put a pillow behind the headboard when you're the one in bed with me then alright?" he chuckled, turning his head towards me to watch for my reaction.

How am I supposed to react to that?
Is he being serious?
Does Peter Parker want to sleep with me?