[for Selina]

[daretodo]

There’s all of one reason I ever find myself on the beach, and that reason is Martha. I’m not a natural pet owner by any stretch of the imagination, but at some point, me and Martha fell into a kind of routine. She’s still dribbling water from an hour spent retrieving her favorite toy from the ocean, and I’m praying she’ll at least be somewhat dry by the time we get home. I’m trying to remember if I left the towels out in the living room when a sunbather catches my eye.

Except, as I realize when I get closer, she’s not just any sunbather. Even with the sunglasses hiding her eyes, I know that face.

“You!”

I was always taught it was rude to point, but I can’t help myself. Plus, I mean, in the grand scheme of things, I figure it’s probably ruder to rob a man blind — even if all his money is fake and he, let’s face it, kind of maybe deserved it.

The fact of the matter remains that Irena the Robbin’ Russian is apparently a real, living person and not some designer island trick.

“You!” I say again, stuck on that one word. I snap my fingers and drop my arm. “Why, I oughta—“

Oughta what, Parker? Report her? For a crime you can’t even prove, because everything disappeared? For getting the best of Tony Stark for one night? (Which, come on, you maybe got a kick out of. Just a little.)

I let out a breath, feeling my shoulders sag. I press the heel of my hand to my forehead, then wave off my accusation with a deflated gesture.

“Ah, forget it.”

Comments

[purrloined]

If she's being honest, that is far from the first time she's been greeted in such a manner.

Selina looks up from her position in the sand, shrugging back to lean on her flat palms, arms straight, legs staying stretched out in front of her, knees tucked slightly together. Better leverage for going from a reclined position to a kicking someone in the face position, she's found, that way.

"Probably the right call," she offers with the slightest upward hitch of an eyebrow from behind the generously oversized sunglasses she'd found sitting around somewhere (they were unquestionably someone's- or had been. Now they were hers). He oughta exactly nothing, and he'd decided to ought he would have regretted it immensely.

[daretodo]

I trudge forward those last few feet and stare her down, folding my arms against my chest. This close up, it’s hard to ignore the cut of her bathing suit — even for me. She’s gorgeous and she knows it. I saw it in Vegas, and I see it here. Every inch of her just screams trouble, only the added twist now is that she’s one hundred percent real.

So why aren’t I doing something?

As inviting as everything is south of her neck, I do my best to keep my eyes on her face. The last time I let myself really look at a woman, she turned out to be Loki in disguise, and that’s kind of soured the experience since. Martha pads up beside me, nosing at the rope dangling from the end of her toy. Since we clearly aren’t leaving just yet, I toss it as far as I can. She scampers off and I recross my arms.

I run through a few questions in my head, and ultimately settle on the one she has no reason to answer truthfully.

“What’s your real name?”

[purrloined]

The thing is, word's going to get out around. She knows this. The population's too goddamn small for it not to, and while she hardly assumes she's infamous, here, lying about who she is isn't going to serve her.

A room full of people know her real name and the fact that she showed up in an orange jumpsuit. What they don't know are any details of her actual past. Still, as a matter of principle, she doesn't want to tell him. She's been told before she's a contrary person.

"Selina," she answers. She doesn't know his last name, he doesn't need to know hers.

[daretodo]

"Wow, you really didn't reach outside the box for that one, didja?"

I quirk an eyebrow. Maybe she's telling the truth, maybe it's another lie. Maybe it doesn't really matter. I crouch down so we're at eye level, elbows on my knees and chin in one hand. I have literally nothing of value on me except for a collapsed webshooter in the cargo pocket on my thigh, but I stay back so I can keep an eye on her hands.

"Guess you weren't expecting all of this, huh?"

[purrloined]

"To put it mildly," she replies, mouth quirking a little. The whole thing is powerfully displeasing. Peter's not too bad- he's... an odd duck. Clearly has inadequacy issues, at least standing next to his friend Stark, even though he's cut do a degree that is, it's fair to say, above average. The scar on his chest doesn't look like the kind of thing you pick up rock climbing, either, unless you really, really suck at rock climbing.

"Not that a free vacation isn't nice, but I like having some say over where I end up. You've been here for a while."

[daretodo]

"Five years next month."

There's no point lying about that. It's more or less on record, for one, and I'm a council rep. I'm about as private a person as you can get, but there are parts of my life here that have left a depressingly long paper trail.

"What gave it away? Is it the tan?"

[purrloined]

"You just have the look of someone who's settled," she tells him with a sharp sort of smile.

"Wouldn't have pegged you as a dog person, although there's something to be said for loyalty, I guess."

[daretodo]

I match her smile, fighting hard to keep it from turning into a grimace. I don't feel settled. I have a house. I have a routine -- the school, the Council, the dog that Pepper probably should never have left to me. But I steal moments to train every day. I look for a way out of this place every day, and something about that comment is...

Well, unsettling.

"She belonged to a friend," I say. "You know anything about those?"

[purrloined]

"I know they're usually more trouble than they're worth," Selina says, entirely unbothered by the implication that she doesn't have any- she does, but that doesn't make the statement untrue- going down onto her elbows, reclining back and tilting her face up to the sun.

"Have yet to be proved wrong on that point."

[daretodo]

"Duh. That's 'cause you're a thief."

No use tap-dancing around that. She cleared Tony of everything he had on him.

Selina. Thief. Doesn't like dogs. Why does that seem so familiar? It's definitely not her face.

Her face that's being tipped out of view, leaving a lot of smooth, pale skin on display. Martha's wet nose at my elbow keeps me from making any embarrassing noises. I pry the toy out of a wet, slobbery mouth and toss it away again, settling back onto the balls of my feet.

[purrloined]

"Prove it," she challenges without missing a beat, allowing herself a somewhat more prominent smile.

She's worked enough 75 spf sunscreen into her skin to drown a whale, so she can luxuriate in the warmth of the tropical sun it without having to worry about any side effects. It had been so many days since she'd felt daylight, and even before Blackgate, Gotham wasn't precisely known for its balmy, sunny weather.

[daretodo]

Oh, I know that smile. I don't need my spider-sense to know I should get the hell out of dodge while I still I have all my teeth.

I don't.

I haven't had too many bad ideas in a while, and it's too easy to justify this one, like that I ought to keep an eye on her so that she doesn't steal from anyone else on this otherwise empty stretch of beach, or that she's so hilariously out of my league that it's not like she'll pull the stunt she did on Tony twice.

"Give me a couple of weeks."

[purrloined]

Selina almost laughs. He just sounds so sure. With an easy, languid twist of her body, she rolls onto her stomach.

"Oh no, don't tell me my new stalker's some kind of junior P.I."

[daretodo]

I scoff. Which is almost a blessing, really, because it forces me to breathe again right after. There's not a lot that's safe to look at from this angle.

"How old do you think I am?"

[purrloined]

She smiles again, tilting her head to rest her chin against her bicep and tucking her ankles together.

"Old enough to drive but not old enough to order a drink without getting carded."

It may be harmless teasing, but it's still more fun than staring at the sky and trying to understand her current situation. She's never been one for small talk, but there is literally nothing else for her to do at the moment.

She angles an eyebrow at the wet dog's return.

"If that animal starts shaking itself dry right next to me, you'll be the one who regrets it."

[daretodo]

"I'm not sure if I should be flattered or depressed."

Martha pads forward, oblivious to her less than warm welcome. I scritch her behind one dripping, floppy ear and throw the toy again. She's off before she shakes.

"What does that make you, grandma?"

[purrloined]

"It's funny, no matter how many birthday candles I blow out, I always get treated like I'm barely legal," Selina murmurs with a faux-thoughtfulness.

She gets it now, a little more, the way Stark and Peter treated her in Las Vegas, their comments about reality. Peter is clearly a little stunned that she wasn't some... ghost, some construct. Well, she isn't, and while she's not usually given to throwing around innuendo and entendres (chalk it up to unpleasant work history), Peter seems like a good target to lob a few toward.

[daretodo]

"Well, wouldja look at that? We actually have something in common."

It's not much, granted, but it's something. It is, in fact, the only thing. I can't imagine there'll be too many other gems like that. We're clearly from different worlds.

Or the same one, I guess, if different sides. Not that she knows that. It might be harder to just pass myself off as some health nut teacher in this get-up, but I'm not adverse to trying.

"Who'dve thought?"

[purrloined]

"So what are you?" she asks, although she doesn't look particularly interested.

"If you're not a detective and you're not a gambler."

[daretodo]

"Nothing interesting."

I smile again, this time slow and a little mocking. There's no point in reading out my resumé. A lot of it's depressing, and most of it doesn't mean a thing in this place.

"But you already knew that."

[purrloined]

Selina tilts her head enough that the glasses slide a little and she can look up at Pete through her lashes. Her eyes are brown under the shadow from the glasses but far more green where they catch the sun, and it makes her gaze look particularly keen.

"Do you know why we're here? Or how we got here? Or how we leave?" she asks evenly, without blinking.

"Because the only thing that interests me about this place and everyone in it is how quickly I can leave them in my rearview." She adjusts herself on the sand so her head is resting comfortably pillowed on her arms and her glasses are covering her eyes again from his view.

"Nothing personal."

[daretodo]

"I ripped a hole into another universe a couple years back. It was a dead end."

And possibly not even my own doing, but I leave that part out. I don't even know why I said as much as I did. It's not a period of my life I like to advertise, exactly, and it's doubtful it'll even impress her. (Wait, do I want to impress her? At least she's stopped writhing around the sand for a minute.) The portal technology's been lying dormant ever since. We had to smash it up pretty good to keep the monsters over in Red Riding Hood's forest didn't follow us home.

I nearly got Chase and Tony killed, I was so desperate for a way out of here.

"This place isn't big on answers. Doesn't mean we've stopped asking, mind you, but don't expect to go home tomorrow."

[purrloined]

She watches him through the lenses of her sunglasses, face impassive behind them.

Who the hell is this guy?

"What's your last name?"

[daretodo]

"Parker."

I look at her expectantly.

"What's yours?"

[purrloined]

"Kyle," she answers.

"Well, Peter Parker, if you're going to be ripping any more holes in reality, be sure to let me know what you see on the other side."