Something Sinister

Goblin Pt. II

You always envied Peter's secret identity whenever any sort of attack happened. No one ever came up to him asking if he was okay, or if he was feeling better, or asking about any sort of details about the attack. The most Peter ever got was, "Have you heard anything through your internship?"

To which all Peter had to say was, "No."

Even though the attack from Doc Ock was almost two weeks ago, people were still asking you about it and if there was any new information. Peter could tell you were growing weary of the questions and having to say that no, you didn't know anything.

Of course, that was one of the most frustrating things, too. You really didn't have any information on Doctor Octopus (as you'd coined him and the media had taken up). It was frustrating to not only you and Peter, but also all the Avengers.

"I just think it's a bit odd," you said, head burrowed in a rack of clothing at the vintage thrift shop you and Peter were scavenging through in order to piece together your Halloween costumes.

"That you keep bringing it up?" Peter mumbled, tossing a red jacket into your cart.

"Well, just that he clearly had a motive and yet we have no idea where he is or where he went," you said, finally standing back up and grinning at the ankle-high red heeled boots you'd finally found in your size.

"Why do you want to be a demon again?" Peter asked suspiciously, holding up the red waist-high red mini skirt you'd found in faux leather.

"Because you're an angel, Peter Parker," you cooed, cupping his chin and peppering kissing along his cheeks and nose. "And I obviously want to be your wicked counterpart."

Peter huffed, tossing the skirt back into the cart. "Are you really going to make me wear wings?"

"Of course!"

Peter smirked, "What if I just went as Spider-Man?"

"Then you would be incredibly stupid," you laughed, shaking your head.

You finished up your haul, paying quickly before the two of you walked hand in hand towards Delmar's. The bell over the door chimed in a familiar fashion, but when you both made it to the counter, an unfamiliar face greeted you.

"Hello!"

You and Peter shared a quick look before you smiled tightly at the girl behind the counter. "Hi," you cleared your throat, "Are you ... new?"

"Oh um - yes? Yes," the girl nodded.

She looked to be about your age with short, chopped blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. She was a bit taller than you, not quite as tall as Peter, but she looked built in the kind of way you didn't want to cross her.

"I'm Ana," she said, offering her hand before realizing it was covered in a plastic glove and awkwardly letting it drop back down to her side. "I started work here a week ago."

"You don't sound like you're from around here, Ana," Peter noted, picking up on a rather thick accent. As Russian accents went, Ana's wasn't as thick as you were used to, but it was still pretty prominent.

"My father and I moved here from Russia," Ana confirmed, "We live in the building over there." She pointed behind the two of you to the apartment complex right next to the sandwich shop. "Mr. Delmar gave me a job!"

"I sure did, which is odd since you aren't doing it," Mr. Delmar came out from the back, his eyes catching yours and Peter's before he smiled.

"If it isn't my favorite two customers! These two don't pay," he told Ana, patting her on the shoulder before coming out from behind the counter to give you both a hug.