[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/avRf5Xp.jpg[/img]

[color=darkgray][b][sub]C H A P T E R   O N E :   T H E   D O G   B I T E S   B A C K[/sub][/b][/color][b][color=d14242][sup][h1]DINNER AND BROADWAY[/h1][/sup][/color][/b][/center]
[COLOR=578eb2][INDENT][B][SUP][SUB][H3]N E W   Y O R K   C I T Y[/H3][/SUB][/SUP][/B][/INDENT][hr][/COLOR][INDENT][INDENT][sup][color=darkgray]November 11[sup]th[/sup], 2017  |  6:57p.m.  |  Broadway[/color][/sup][/INDENT][/INDENT]
[indent]The web went taut, and Spider-Man arced through the air. 

Broadway stretched out before him, New Yorkers milling about underneath, thousands of people seeking a night of entertainment to break the pattern of their busy lives. Some saw him zip past and pointed excitedly; others shouted encouragement; some cursed at him. 

A large line stretched out of Winter Garden Theatre, waiting for admission into the opening of [i]Captain Rogers: An American Musical[/i]. Peter had hoped to get tickets for it, meaning to surprise Mary Jane with a night at the theatre, but the issue of money, which loomed over him ever so threateningly since she’d announced her pregnancy, had prevented him from doing so. Working as the Daily Bugle’s webmaster, while it paid decently, wasn’t enough to warrant any indulgent spending – and the extra bit of cash that came with his afternoon shifts at Joe’s Pizza made no difference. 

Peter was hesitant to spend money on anything, really. He wanted to have as much as possible saved for the baby. He and MJ had already spent so much on its room – painting, buying toys, a crib, a monitor – and eight months in, the reality of it all was beginning to dawn on him in full. 

The truth was, he was scared out of his mind. 

Peter swung through Broadway in quiet contemplation. Lights blurred past him, signs for theatres and lit-up billboards mixing together in smudges of neon and fluorescence. The rush of soaring through the air made his stomach flip, and he couldn’t help but smile beneath his mask, the feeling familiar and exhilarating. He was heading home now, but figured that a quick cruise through Broadway would do no harm – he was lucky enough to get the day off today, and had spent the majority of it swinging around and helping out when he could. Another five minutes before he picked up dinner for himself and MJ wouldn’t hurt.

A buzz in his suit’s waistline pockets – his “utility belt” – put that thought on hold. His phone was ringing.

He waited for his swing to reach its apex before letting go, running across the wall of 1639 Broadway to expend any leftover momentum. Coming to a stop, he pulled out the phone, attached to the building with his hands and feet. It was Mary Jane. 

[color=d14242]“Hey, MJ,”[/color] he answered, lifting his mask off his mouth. [color=d14242] “What’s up?”[/color]

“I’m hungry,” said MJ. “I’m hungry and I’m tired and my back hurts, and the stupid baby won’t stop kicking. My insides are bruising. Where are you?”

Peter paused, giving heavy thought to his answer. 

No decent lie came.

[color=d14242] “…Broadway.”[/color] 

“Broadway?”

[color=d14242] “Uh.”[/color] Uh oh. [color=d14242]“Yeah.”[/color] 

“There better be some sort of supervillain there, Peter. I’m talking big. Like Venom, or Deathstroke, or Ares. Are Venom or Deathstroke or Ares at Broadway?”

Peter’s brain sighed. No escape. [color=d14242]“No, but the Red Skull is. I hear he has a killer baritone.”[/color] When all else fails, crack a joke.

MJ let a moment of silence pass by. A moment of silence that dawned upon Peter the gut-wrenching realisation: she was mad.

Hell hath no fury like an angry pregnant woman.

“You’d better not be watching that new Captain America musical,” she seethed. “You’d better be punching a villain in the face.”

[color=d14242]“I did,”[/color] Peter said, [color=d14242]“I [i]did[/i] punch a villain – well, not really – in the face today. Herman. He tried robbing an armoured truck.”[/color]

Like most run-ins with the Shocker, it wasn’t much of a fight. Herman threatened Spidey, Spidey hit him a bunch and webbed him up. Quick and clean, no harm done. 

(Except for Herman’s face.)

“I’m talking about now, Peter. You’d better be punching a villain now, or getting me some of that disgusting healthy food you keep forcing me to eat, otherwise I’m calling Felicia and getting her to buy me three cheeseburgers and a coke from Big Belly Burger.”

If Peter could free both of his hands, he would’ve used them to tug at his hair. He was in over his head. [color=d14242]“No, no, don’t call Felicia, don’t – don’t call her.”[/color] 

“But Felicia has cheeseburgers.”

[color=d14242]“And I’ll have a chicken Caesar salad from Charlie’s in… in half an hour. You love Charlie’s.”[/color]  

MJ paused again. This time, when she spoke, Peter could [i]hear[/i] the smile on her face. 

“Hey,” she said, “We’re getting married.”

Peter smiled. [color=d14242]“Yeah. We are.”[/color]

“We’re having a baby.”

Butterflies fluttered in his stomach. [color=d14242]“We’re having a baby.”[/color] 

“I love you.”

[color=d14242]“I love you too,”[/color] he said. He felt it in his bones. [color=d14242]“I’ll see you soon.”[/color]

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Bye.”

Peter put the phone back in his belt and slipped his mask over his mouth. With a press of his fingers into the middle of his palm, he was back in the air, swinging across the busy Manhattan street to the delight of the pedestrians below. 

At 7:02 p.m., Spider-Man went to get his fiancée dinner.[/indent]