the moon is high over manhattan, shadows stretching across the rooftop of a closed jewelry store. peter lands lightly, red and blue suit flashing in the silver glow.

he’s late. he knows it. she’s already there—perched at the edge like she was born in the night. legs crossed, mask in place, black leather hugging every line of her body. she looks back at him over her shoulder with a slow, knowing smile.

“you’re getting predictable, spider.”

he pulls off his mask just enough to breathe, curls damp from the run. “you always know when to show up,” he shoots back, voice soft, breath catching as she stands.

she moves toward him—fluid, silent, graceful. when she stops, she’s inches away. too close for someone who’s supposed to be on the other side of the law.

her fingers reach up to flick a loose curl from his forehead. “maybe i like watching you try to catch me.”

peter’s eyes flicker from her smile to her mask. “maybe i’m starting to think you don’t want to get away.”

her smile falters—but only slightly. “catch me first,” she whispers, and in a blink she’s running across the ledge, leaping over the alley, disappearing in a flash of black and silver.

and he’s jumping after her before he can think twice