The Photographer » Peter Parker (Andrew Garfield) x OC

Aunt May

Peter starts driving and Claire is almost impressed that he can drive as well as he can, considering she hadn't seen him with a car previously. He glances over at her and scoffs.

"Hey, if you're gonna keep pouting about not driving," he starts, "I can turn the car around and you can wait for the web shooters."

Claire uncrosses her arms and straightens up in the seat. "Fine. Am I allowed to ask how much longer before we get where we're going?"

Peter turns into a residential area and slowly pulls into the driveway of a quaint house. "We're here."

She looks up and sees a quaint house. "Where is 'here', exactly?" she asks.

"My Aunt May's house. Everything I need is in my old room," he explains. "But don't mention the Spider-Man thing—she doesn't know, and I'd rather keep it that way."

She nods and Peter gets out of the car and walks around to open the door for Claire, even offering his hand to help her out. They walk to the front door of the house and he knocks twice, and a woman with slightly graying hair approaches, looking shocked at who she sees on the other side of the glass.

She opens the door and immediately pulls Peter into a hug. "Where have you been, boy?" she asks jokingly. "I've missed you."

"I missed you too, Aunt May," he laughs. "I'm here to get some stuff from my old room, if you don't mind letting us in."

May pulls back from the hug and gives him a confused look before she notices Claire almost hiding behind Peter's tall frame. She clicks her tongue and quickly hugs Claire before the latter can refuse. "Come in, you two. What's your name, dear?"

"Please don't interrogate my roommate," Peter begs.

"Oh, hush, go get your things," May chides. "But take your time, I want to get to know the poor girl you dragged here." She gestures to Claire and points to the dining room table. "Sit. I just put the kettle on for some tea."

Claire obliges and the older woman gets two mugs down from a cabinet.

"Do you have a preference?" she asks. "I'm sorry, hon, I still haven't gotten your name. That nephew of mine distracted me."

Claire laughs lightly and smiles. "It's Claire. Do you have mint, by any chance?"

"Always. It's one of my favorites," May admits. "Mint it is then."

The kettle starts whistling, so May pours the boiling water into each mug and gets a box of teabags from the drawer. She brings the mugs to the table and goes back to grab two teabags, then hands one to Claire and drops one into her own mug as she sits in the chair next to Claire's.

"Thank you, May," Claire says with a smile.

May laughs. "Oh, child, call me Aunt May. Knowing how Peter is, that's all he'll refer to me as," she informs, "so you might as well get used to it."

"Well then, thank you, Aunt May." Claire dips her teabag into the hot water and lets it steep while she warms her hands on the outside of the mug.

"How did you and my nephew meet, Claire?"

Claire laughs nervously. "Um, I was attacked outside his apartment building almost a month ago," she begins to explain. "He was the one that got me to the hospital."

May takes a sip of her tea. "Well, I'm glad you're alright, dear. So how did you end up becoming his roommate?"

"Well, I found a "Roommate Wanted" ad at a convenience store." She takes a sip of her own tea before she continues. "I had just moved out of my dad's house, so I took a tab and called, and here we are. I just moved in two weeks ago, but I think it's safe to say we're friends already."

"Well, it's nice to know he's making friends after he lost Gwen last year."

Claire presses her lips together and nods slightly, then drinks more tea. "I remember the funeral. It was a beautiful service," she adds. May looks confused, so Claire clears her throat and explains. "I was in journalism with her. We were acquainted, but not much else."

May waves her hands in the air as if swatting flies away from her ears. "Let's swerve the conversation, shall we?" Claire nods and she continues. "I'm warning you ahead of time, Peter's cooking skills are limited to the microwave, so I really hope you can cook, or you might both be doomed to an eternity of takeout."

"Don't worry, Aunt May, I grew up in a restaurant, and my dad taught me plenty of recipes. I won't let him starve," Claire reassures the woman. "Besides, I wouldn't mind takeout every now and then."

They laugh together and start talking about how May's nursing job is going, and they don't notice Peter walking back to them with a box full of various things. He clears his throat to announce his presence, and the women look at him like he just turned off their favorite movie.

"Claire, I got everything if you're ready to go," he informs.

She looks at the older woman with a smile. "It was nice to meet you, Aunt May." She throws away her used teabag and sets her empty mug in the sink. She goes back to hug Aunt May—voluntarily this time.

"You two better visit me more," she insists. "I had a nice time with you, Claire. I'm happy my boy is making friends again." She pats Peter's shoulder and walks them to the door. He puts the box of things in the backseat of the car and gets a message on his phone. He waves bye to his aunt and ducks back into the driver's seat.

Should we head home for lunch?" he asks. "It's noon already."

She nods and they drive back to town.