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Peter POV

The vigilante didn't sleep at all that night, after about two hours of staring at his ceiling he gave up completely. He tried to fix Karen, but when that didn't work he resorted to watching Star Wars on his beat-up laptop he found in the dumpster a few months back.

He couldn't focus on the movies though, not even his favorite part when Luke, Leia, Han, and Chewie are stuck in the trash compactor. An uneasy feeling settles over him like a scratchy and uncomfortable blanket. The lady's words still haven't left his head, and neither has James. Who was she? How were they connected? Who the hell is James?

That's what Peter can't figure out. Peter searched all of the recent employment records in Queens, James wasn't on any of them. He said he was in the army, so he could be doing some badass undercover things, but then why would he be at Delmar's for lunch?

It certainly doesn't help any that the lady knows who Peter is. What else does she know about him? She could know anything, his aunt, his school, his friends. Heck, if she really wanted to she could tell the whole world who Spider-Man is. But she hasn't, not yet at least. So what is stopping her?

The rest of the night, Peter stared at his computer screen uncomprehendingly. All he could think about is James and the lady, and with each new question, fear grows in the pit of his stomach and slowly takes him over until he can hardly breathe.

...

The next day, Peter warily goes to work. By eleven o'clock he already messed up two orders. His brain couldn't stop jumping to the girl with black hair and James. He must've checked the clock at least ten times since he got to work. He's been counting the seconds until it is time for Jame's lunch.

Maybe he could confront him? Or just get some more information? But what if James is bad? If the girl didn't know his identity, he would've ignored it. It's too personal now.

When the bell over the door rings signaling the entrance of a customer, Peter actually jumps. His stomach flips as the man walks towards the cash register. He is sporting the same leather jacket and gloves he usually does.

"Hey, Peter," He greets kindly.

The teen takes a deep breath and tries to push the fear and confusion from his eyes, "Hi, James."

"The usual please," James squints his eyes and focuses on Peter's face. It's as if the boy's heart stops beating and his whole body freezes.

Peter holds back a flinch when James opens his mouth, "Are you alright, kid?"

"Oh, uh, of course! I'm just going to go make you a sandwich now because that's my job and you ordered a sandwich," The boy sighs, and his shoulders sag. Way to be subtle, Spider-Man. Luckily, James just lets out a small laugh.

In a short minute, Peter hands James the sub and he goes to sit at his usual table. The young hero walks over to Murph and gently pets his fur, "Where do you work again?"

"I work at Queens County Savings Bank a few blocks from here."

He is lying. The only reason he knows that is because no one named James has been hired at the bank in four years. His poker face is real good though. Too good, it's concerning. Maybe he is undercover on a secret mission? Maybe he works for the girl with black hair? Maybe James knows Peter's secret too. He really hopes that is not the case.

"What did you do before that?"

James blinks and finishes chewing the bit of sandwich, "I worked at a bank in Brooklyn. Exciting stuff, really," he jokes.

I crack a fake smile and nod. After several more minutes of tense small talk, James is done and walking back to 'work', not before leaving a generous tip of course.

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