By Moonlight (P.P + M.J)

35. Killing Me Softly

*MJ pov*

Peter never did get back to MJ for the rest of the day, and that bothered her slightly. He had said that he was going to meet Tony Stark, but she didn't think that meeting would last the whole day. She had important news to share with him, since Jack had now run out of time. She wanted to tell Peter everything, even how she'd met Jack at school. But she couldn't do that if Peter wasn't here.

Hanging out in her library hideout, she didn't like the feeling of waiting around for him to call. MJ didn't like the feeling of having to worry. So, she kept herself from thinking anything of it, focusing instead on her book. The night was cool, and she snuggled in a blanket, enjoying the Fall weather. The cold months were her favorite.

Then, MJ thought she heard a thud from behind her, on a distant part of the roof. At first, she figured it to be Peter finally coming to see her. But the footsteps that drew closer were too loud and heavy, not at all like the dainty little steps Peter took. But there was a familiarity to the footsteps, and she watched as a figure came into view, balancing on the raised ledge of the building like a tightrope walker. She recognized the colossal werewolf, and sat up.

Jack froze when he saw her, his foot hanging over the edge and his tail waving. He gave her an awkward, toothy smile, and she saw the silver glint of his one metal fang. His fur was black with tinges of white on his muzzle, and he was wearing only what looked like to be some torn up jeans, with something that looked like a belt wrapped around his wrist. MJ wondered if that particular fabric was uncomfortable against his fur. A pair of white earbuds dangled from his pricked ears, plugged into an iPod that was held inside a sleeve wrapped around his upper arm.

"Evening," Jack greeted with a nod of his head, taking one of his earbuds out, "this building occupied?"

"If you need to practice your circus act, don't mind me," MJ replied, looking back down at her book. He chuckled, the noise coming from deep within his throat, and he jumped down from the ledge.

"What are you even doing?" She asked, raising an eyebrow at him as he sat down on the ground across from her, crossing his furry legs.

"Well, I was looking for your boy," he replied, tipping his head as he looked at her, leaning against the ledge wall, "but he doesn't seem to be out tonight. I've stopped like four hold-ups and he hasn't made an appearance. I mean, I didn't want him searching for me, but I didn't want him avoiding me either, you know?"

"That makes two of us," MJ muttered under her breath, turning the page.

They were silent for a moment before Jack asked, "we're friends, right?"

She rolled her eyes and closed her book, not being able to focus on the words with his constant talking. It's not that she didn't like Jack. To be perfectly honest, she quite fond of him and his somewhat snarky attitude. He was okay company too, and she wasn't that put off by the fact that he was a werewolf. But he wasn't who she wanted to hang out with.

He wasn't Peter.

But, MJ didn't mind enduring Jack's company. If he wanted to hang out, she would let him. The guy probably didn't have a lot of friends at the moment, and if allowing him to chill with her comforted him, then so be it. She didn't see it as a "killing me softly" kind of situation. He had saved her life after all. She owed him that.

"I guess we are. You never leave me alone," she said jokingly, and he nodded, grinning.

"But you don't... not like me, do you?"

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Russell," MJ said, looking at him thoughtfully.

He looked back at her, his blue eyes practically glowing against his dark fur. He glanced around and looked at her little campsite, which consisted of a blanket and a couple pillows, and a small, green plastic lantern she'd brought that night. He angled his ears toward her radio, which had just started to play "You Make Me Feel So Young" by Frank Sinatra.