Continued from here.


In the morning, I found Aunt May and MJ in the kitchen. Peter was on the couch, in the living room. I sat across from him, cleared my throat, and began.

“I heard ya and yer wife last night.”

I didn't need to look up and see Peter's red face. His embarrassment was so strong that I nearly was embarrassed meself. Peter cleared his throat.

“Well, ahh... we'll try not to be so loud and...”

I laughed, “NO no... I dinna' mean that. I meant what you were talking about before that.”

“Oh.”

“Listen, I know, by both what ya said, and what ya felt, that ya be sincere. Me father would approve, I think.” I smiled sheepishly. “Actually, to be completely honest, I was hoping ya would make an offer like that...”

Peter got up and went to the kitchen. A few minutes later, I followed. I sat at the table and Aunt May placed a small plate of cookies in front of me. She put her hand on me shoulder and said, “Welcome to the family.”

******

“Considering the area, I think we should bring our uniforms.”

Peter replied, “Never leave home without 'em. Guys like us get around faster on foot, so we'll change on the way and take to the skyscrapers. Only MJ and Aunt May use the car.”

I keep forgetting that I be a meta now. While I already was a part of the Parker family as far as the Parkers were concerned, we needed to make it legal before the authorities came looking into it.

We left the apartment, and changed in an alley. For fifteen minutes, Spiderman swung through the air, and I followed close behind on the walls. I went a little slower than I might have if I hadn't been trying to leave the windows intact. As we neared our destination, Peter swung into an alley to change. I followed, tripping over meself while trying to slow down. I no be a professional yet.

From there we turned the corner and stood in front of our destination. The building was tall, with more floors than I had ever bothered to count. There were no cement or bricks to be seen on the outside, just shining glass. Large bronze sculpted letters formed the word “Carson”.

Peter let out a low whistle. “Only the best of lawyers for the famous boxer, huh?”

“No reason not to have it. Actually, me father and David Carson were friends in college. They were studying law together when me father had his break in boxing.”

We walked into the lobby, and headed straight for the desk. When I gave me name to the secretary she said, “Oh please, go right on up. Mister Carson said to let you in as soon as you came.”

Mister Carson's office was located on the top floor, naturally. Sunlight poured in from the tall windows directly behind Mr. Carson's desk. Carson himself, a fellow Irishman in his late thirties, was sitting at his desk looking over some papers.

“Come in, lad, come in.” he said without looking up.

“It be good to see ya again, Mister Carson.”

This time, he did look up. “None of that, now, lad. You are yer own man now, so call me David, like yer father did.”

He looked at Peter and added, “And who be yer friend?”

Peter shook David's hand. “I'm Peter Parker,” he answered for me, “I'm a photographer for the Bugle.”

We explained the situation as best we could without mentioning the part about our powers, etc. It's not that I do no trust in me father's friend, but the less people who know, the better.

David Carson's emotions ranged from surprise to utter confoundment. He asked to speak with me alone.

“I'll be blunt with ya, lad. I like the look of this Parker man, and I don't think he be a man to go after yer money. What I don't understand is why you wouldna' want to stay with me. I'd be glad to have ya. I no have a family of me own.”

I felt his sadness, and what seemed like a little bit of remorse. “It's like I told ya,” I said, “he saved me life and now he feels responsible for me too. It no be that I don't like ya, David. Ya always were a good friend to me father and me. Maybe one day I'll be able to explain it to ya, but for now Peter Parker is me guardian. We came here to ask you to help us draw up the papers before the authorities decide to stick their noses into me situation.”

He sighed. “Aye, we know how messy that gets.”

We called Peter back in, and in a few minutes David had the papers drawn up. The three of us signed them, as well as David's secretary, who signed as a witness. As we were about to leave, I felt excitement from David.

“Parker,” he said emphatically, ”are ya the same peter Parker who takes pictures of Spiderman?”

“The same.”

“Here's something ya might want to tell yer web-slinging friend then. Don't tell anyone I told ya this, because I wasn't supposed to hear of it meself.

I have a friend high up who tells me that during all this civil war mess, the government has managed to lose custody of some of Spiderman's old friends, such as the Green Goblin, Rhino, Electro, Sandman, Scorpion, Mysterio, Doc Ock...”

Peter's face remained calm, but I felt his anger growing quickly. “I'll be sure to tell him.”

******

On our way back, peter was cursing like a madman. Finally, he calmed down, and said to me, “Can you believe this? They go around arresting heroes. People who give everything to save the world from insane freaks. People who protect the world from itself. Then they go and release some of the main reasons they created the damned Registration Act.”

“It be obvious that they want to keep that quiet.” I replied, “Don't you get it? It be our duty to stop these old enemies of yours, but if we can make it known that the government didn't do their job by the people while they were arresting heroes, the public will tell SHIELD to shove the Registration Act up someone's rear!”

By this time, we were back in street clothes, almost home. Peter smiled. “Just shove it up, SHIELD. Just shove it up.”

This entry was posted by Fade, on Thursday, September 21, 2006. You can leave your response.