Authors: htbthomas and Georgia Kennedy
Fandom: Spider-Man movieverse
Summary: Mary Jane writes a letter to Peter's deceased parents on the eve of her wedding to Peter.
Authors' Notes: This is the teaser to a new fic, the sequel to Georgia Kennedy's Twin Demons, a Spider-Man/Daredevil crossover (with touches of The Hulk). If you haven't read Twin Demons, here's what you need to know:
Twin Demons take place during the week following the final scene in Spider-Man 2. Peter Parker and Mary Jane Watson consummate their relationship. Shortly after Peter proposes to MJ, Spider-Man meets Daredevil, and together the two of them do battle with international terrorists and race to diffuse a series of dirty bombs planted throughout the New York City subway system. Harry Osborn, meanwhile is devastated by the fact that Mary Jane ran away from her wedding to be with Peter. Suffering from schizophrenia and depression fueled by alcohol, Harry suffers a complete breakdown when Peter confronts him with the truth about his father. And J. Jonah Jameson, convinced that Spider-Man was responsible for taking Mary Jane away from his son, dispatches his top reporter, Eddie Brock, to uncover the truth about Spider-Man.
by htbthomas & Georgia Kennedy
This story is a work of fiction based upon: Spider-Man , copyright 2002 by Columbia Pictures Industries, Inc., all rights reserved; Spider-Man 2, copyright 2004 by Columbia Pictures Industries, Inc., all rights reserved; Spider-Man 3, copyright 2007 by Columbia Pictures Industries, Inc., all rights reserved; Hulk, copyright 2003 by Universal Studios, Inc., all rights reserved; and Daredevil - Director’s Cut, copyright 2004 by Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, Inc., all rights reserved. The authors are not connected with nor is this work authorized by Marvel Enterprises, or the aforementioned motion picture studios. This work is intended solely for posting on fanfiction websites, for the benefit and enjoyment of their intended audiences. No commercial or financial benefit accrues or is intended to accrue to the authors as a result of said posting.
Dear Mary and Richard,
I hope you don’t think I’m being too presumptuous in calling you by your first names, but in listening to Aunt May’s stories and reading all of those letters that Peter had written to you while he was growing up, I feel as though I’ve really gotten to know you well. As you are probably aware, Peter and I are getting married next Friday. That day can’t get here soon enough.
I cannot find the words to express the love I have for your son. Wherever you are, I hope you can see for yourselves the wonderful man that Peter has grown into. He has become urbane, poised, and polished. And he works so hard, almost like a slave. Whether he’s helping to get an innocent man’s conviction overturned, recommending what biotech companies to invest in, or taking photographs of baby gorillas for National Geographic, he can’t help but impress people with his knowledge, work ethic and dedication. Even now, I’m amazed that he could get a masters degree while managing all those consulting and photography jobs, to say nothing of his other responsibilities, which I’m sure you know about.
And yet, through it all, he somehow finds time for us, even if it’s only an hour or two every couple of days. If things aren’t going right, career-wise, if I’ve had an off-night on stage or a bad audition, he’ll always be there with a hug and a kiss, and sometimes a bouquet of flowers or a home-cooked, microwaveable dinner. And if I’m still in the dumps, he’ll take me on a swing through the city. Watching the sun go down from the roof of the Met Life Building usually does it for me.
But what I love most about being with Peter are those times when his “inner nerd” manages to slip through. The truth is, I was always crazy about that side of him. Just the other day, we rode the Harley Davidson up to Palisades Cliffs in New Jersey, right after my show. We were lying in a web, high up in the treetops, gazing at the stars, and he starts going into this long-winded explanation about how gravity bends starlight or something. After listening to this lecture for five minutes, I had to tell him to shut up and kiss me. I’ll never admit it to him, but his big brain turns me on as much as that other big part of him which shall remain nameless.
I do have a confession to make, though. This isn’t easy, so please bear with me. I’m trying very, very hard, not to worry about Peter’s other life. Don’t get me wrong. I knew what I was getting into the moment I broke off my engagement to John Jameson. Peter was given great power, and with that power comes great responsibility. I’m okay with that. And now, he has a partner who can watch his back, and that’s great, too. Since Peter and Matt Murdock started working together, violent crime has gone way, way down. It’s like the crooks are all afraid; they’ll never know where the Twin Demons will strike next. That’s what the Daily Bugle calls them, not me. But, in all honesty, whenever that police radio goes off, I feel like I’ve been hit with a hammer. I can’t tell you how many times I thought about unplugging it. Sometimes, I get so overwhelmed by the thought that Peter might never come home again that I can’t even think coherently. Can you imagine us trying to buy life insurance?
Don’t worry. I’ll never tell him that. He’s got enough on his mind already, and I certainly don’t want to make him feel guilty about doing what he has to do. I just wish I had someone to talk to about all this. Even Aunt May, God bless her dear soul, is not a spouse. There are things about our relationship that not even she can understand, but I’ll always give her kudos for trying. Maybe this is a little selfish of me, but I wish that Matt and Peter would let Jean DeWolff in on their little secrets, so that at least I could have somebody to commiserate with. Heck, we could form the world’s first support group for superheroes’ significant others.
You know, it’s funny. When Spider-Man saved me at the World Unity Festival, I thought I was in the arms of a god. And when we shared that incredible, indescribable kiss on that rainy night in the alley, it made him seem all the more real. But as soon as we became a couple, that crush I had on Spider-Man vanished. Peter used to kid around that I could marry him and have an affair with Spider-Man without ever feeling guilty. But that’s not the way it really is. It’s more like Spider-Man’s just an act, like one of my characters on stage. I feel nothing for Spider-Man now. He just isn’t real to me anymore. And yet, he’s a hero to millions. Does that make any sense?
Still, I can’t help wondering what’s going to happen with Spider-Man when Peter starts medical school. Peter called Dr. Connors to tell him that he got the fat envelope from Columbia University. Dr. Connors invited us to celebrate at N.Y.U.’s faculty dining room. During dinner, I asked Dr. Connors what medical school would be like. He put his arm around Peter’s shoulder and said, “Mary Jane, my advice to you two is to have as much sex as you can before Peter’s white coat ceremony, because, after that, you probably won’t see him again until Christmas.” And I’m sitting there thinking, how can Peter possibly reconcile being Spider-Man with the twenty-four-seven demands of medical school? Something’s got to give, sooner or later.
There is another situation you ought to know about. Peter still hasn’t chosen a best man, and I’m not even sure he will. I think he’s holding out hope that Harry Osborn will come around and accept the truth about what happened to his father, so that we can all be friends again. He misses Harry terribly, and so do I. But it’s a very touchy situation. The shock of finding out that his father was the Green Goblin had caused Harry to suffer a complete mental breakdown. He spent a week or two in a psychiatric ward, but has since recovered. From what I’ve heard, both he and his company are doing very well. He doesn’t return our phone calls or answer our e-mails, but at least he’s been keeping his mouth shut about Peter. Maybe that’s the best we can hope for.
Oh, one more thing. It’s really minor, but it’s sort of been on my mind. Last month, we finally found out where Emma Rose is sending us for our honeymoon. Peter did not seem very happy about it. I think he had his heart set on the Empress Lorelei cruise. Anyway, he started having these weird dreams. Nothing like those waking nightmares he used to have, thank goodness. But he’d be twisting around in bed, sweating. A couple of times, he was even sleeptalking. He kept repeating one word over and over again. It sounded like “Tribbleyard.” I have absolutely no idea what it means. It sounded French, so we tried looking it up in a French dictionary, but we couldn’t find anything.
Sorry. I don’t mean to sound like a spoil-sport. I’m sure it’s nothing. Anyway, I can’t think of anything else I’d like to say, except that I’m the luckiest girl in the world to be your daughter-in-law.