Chapter Text
Intro Music: Justice League Unlimited Theme Song
New York City
BGM: The Amazing Spider-Man 2 Theme
It was one of those bright, golden days in New York City—the kind that made glass windows shimmer and made the horizon look like it had been dipped in sunlight. The streets were alive with noise: honking cars, conversations overlapping, food carts steaming, and a steady rhythm of footsteps on the pavement. But even with the city doing its daily symphony, there was one sound that cut through all of it—a loud, exhilarated scream.
"WOOOOOO!"
It belonged to none other than Peter Parker, the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.
He plummeted from the sky like a red-and-blue comet, arms tucked tight as the world rushed up to meet him. Just as the pavement threatened to become far too familiar, a sharp THWIP! snapped through the air. A web-line caught hold of a traffic light, and at once Spider-Man swung sideways into a graceful arc, soaring above taxis and buses with acrobatic ease.
"God, this never gets old," he said to himself as he let go, dove again, and shot another web.
The closer he swung to street level, the louder the city got. A group of New Yorkers noticed the web-slinger streak by overhead, and one woman cupped her hands to shout:
"We love you, Spidey!"
Spider-Man chuckled, twisted into a mid-air wave, and fired back:
"Aw, I love you guys too!"
SPIDER-SENSE TINGLING!
But before he could enjoy the sunshine and compliments for more than a heartbeat, a familiar chill ran down his spine—his Spider-Sense. The tingling snapped his body into alert mode. His head jerked to the right just in time to spot a black sedan tearing down the street, police sirens wailing behind it.
"Oh great," he muttered, "and here I was hoping today would be my day off."
Without hesitation, he shot a web-line and catapulted toward the speeding car, picking up speed quickly. "Seriously—people really don't know how to drive these days!" he quipped as he closed in.
Once close enough, he let go of the web and used his momentum to dive onto the car's hood. The metal groaned under the impact as Spider-Man peered through the windshield. Two maskless crooks stared back at him—wide-eyed and horrified.
"It's Spider-Man!" one of them yelped.
Spider-Man responded with an enthusiastic wave. "Bingo! And your prize is a nice, cold cell!"
He reared his fist back and punched through the windshield with practiced precision—glass shattering like brittle ice. Before either criminal could react, Spider-Man grabbed both by their collars and flung them through the air.
They screamed—of course they did—but Spider-Man was already firing two quick webs to snatch them before they kissed concrete. He stuck them against a nearby light pole in a neat little cocoon, pointed at them, and said:
"You're welcome!"
With that handled, he looked back at the still-moving car, preparing to jump inside, yank the wheel, and slam the brakes.
But then something… unexpected happened.
The car began to rise.
Not bump over a curb. Not tilt. Rise.
Straight off the ground.
BGM: John Williams - Superman Theme
Spider-Man froze, eyes wide behind the mask. "Uh. Since when do sedans do that?"
A familiar, amused voice answered from somewhere behind him.
"I think I know the answer to that."
Spider-Man blinked. Twice. Three times. Processing.
The car gently set back down onto the street, perfectly still. Spider-Man vaulted off the hood, landing lightly, while pedestrians stared in disbelief.
From behind the parked car, a tall figure stepped into view—cape fluttering in the soft breeze, red and blue colors shining, the iconic 'S' symbol catching sunlight like a beacon.
Superman.
Spider-Man's posture changed instantly—shock flipping into excitement. "Superman!"
He ran over, and the two heroes clasped palms before pulling into a quick bro hug. When they separated, Spider-Man folded his arms and cocked his head.
"Okay, what are you doing here? Last I checked, you belong in Metropolis, not in my part of town."
Superman smiled. "I'm here to see an old friend. You, actually."
Spider-Man raised a finger. "Flattering. But I know there's more to it."
Before Superman could respond, the world around them erupted into shouts and camera shutters. New Yorkers crowded the sidewalks, jaws dropping at the unexpected crossover of heroes. Phones lifted en masse, cheers rising—especially for the Man of Steel.
Spider-Man shook his head with a dramatic sigh. "Great. You've already stolen my city. That took, what, two minutes?"
Superman chuckled lightly. "Don't worry. I'm not here to take New York from you." He then waved politely to the crowd. "Hello, everyone. Good to see you all—but I need to speak to my friend for a moment."
Then, with casual grace, he lifted off the ground until he hovered a few feet above Spider-Man's head. He extended an arm.
"Spider-Man—got time for an important conversation?"
Spider-Man made a show of sighing, shoulders drooping. "Fineeee, I guess I'll clear my busy schedule."
Superman smirked and blasted upward, and Spider-Man fired a web and swung after him. Within seconds they landed on the roof of a tall building overlooking the city.
Spider-Man planted his hands on his hips. "Alright, Clark. Spill. What's up?"
Superman didn't answer right away. He just smiled thoughtfully—like someone picking the right moment to drop a life-changing question.
Finally, he said:
"I want to talk to you about joining the Justice League."
Peter froze.
"...You're serious?"
Superman laughed softly. "Very."
He stepped closer, his expression sincere. "Peter, I've never understood how you aren't already part of a major superhero team. You are—honestly—one of the greatest heroes we have."
Peter's cheeks heated beneath the mask. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Wow, okay, that's… too kind. And also very weird to hear out loud."
He paused, thinking. "I mean, other than saving New York with Miles, I haven't really given much thought to joining a team. I tried the whole Fantastic Four thing once, but… that was ages ago."
Superman nodded understandingly. "I'm not here to push you. If you don't want to join, that's completely fine. But I—and a lot of others—think you'd be a perfect fit."
Peter squinted at him. "Are you trying to butter me up?"
Superman raised both hands. "I'm just telling the truth. Bruce and Diana agree with me. So do most of the League."
That gave Peter pause. He didn't joke. Didn't quip. He just stared quietly for a moment, genuinely thinking it over.
Superman seemed to notice. He placed a reassuring hand on Peter's shoulder.
"Take your time. Let me know when you're ready."
He floated a few inches off the roof, preparing to take off—
"Clark."
Superman looked back, eyebrows lifted in curiosity.
Peter stood straighter.
"...I'll join the Justice League."
Silence lasted half a second, before a smirk tugged at Superman's lips.
"You've made the right choice."
The Watchtower
BGM: Justice League 2001 - The Watchtower
One moment, Peter was standing beneath an open sky on a New York rooftop. The next, he was on polished metal flooring, stars glittering beyond thick-paneled windows as Earth spun in quiet splendor below.
Welcome to the Watchtower.
Peter and Clark walked side by side down a gleaming corridor, their footsteps echoing lightly. Sleek alien tech lined the walls, automated drones floated by conducting maintenance, and distant voices echoed from other sections of the station. Despite the fact that Peter had been here before, his head still turned in every direction, eyes soaking in every detail.
"Man…" Peter whispered. "I swear, the Watchtower always impresses me. Every time."
Clark smirked. "Give it a few weeks. You'll get used to it."
Peter snorted. "Yeah, sure. And maybe after that I'll get used to you absorbing the sun, too."
Clark chuckled and kept walking until the hallway widened into one of the largest rooms in the station—the Central Meeting Room. Holographic monitors flickered to life around a circular table, and the giant window behind it provided a sweeping view of space.
Bruce and Diana stood off to the side, engaged in quiet conversation. They both paused when they noticed their two friends.
Diana's face brightened with a warm smile. "Peter."
Bruce simply gave a curt nod.
Peter lifted a hand. "Hey! Fancy meeting you two up here."
Diana stepped forward slightly. "So… does your presence mean that Clark managed to convince you to join the Justice League?"
Peter chuckled. "That's exactly what it means."
Clark folded his arms. "Took him a minute, but he eventually came to his senses."
Peter elbowed him lightly. "I'll remember that."
He then made his way to Diana and wrapped her in a friendly hug. Diana returned it without hesitation, her armor cool against his suit. When they separated, Peter turned toward Bruce, arms extended outward in an exaggerated gesture.
Bruce stared at him. Silent. Unmoving. Fully aware of what Peter wanted.
After a long beat, heaving the quietest sigh imaginable, Bruce muttered, "Make it quick."
Peter laughed. "You got it!" He wrapped his arms around Bruce in a fast but enthusiastic hug.
Bruce did not hug back. But there was—faintly, barely detectable to the untrained eye—a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Peter pulled away and pointed at him. "I saw that. That was like… a whole millimeter of smile. Progress!"
Bruce ignored the jab. "It's good to see you join the team."
Peter nodded, sincerity softening his expression. "Thanks. I appreciate that."
He glanced around the empty chairs of the meeting room. "Speaking of the team… where is everybody?"
Diana walked to the table, resting a hand on its edge. "Most members are busy. Various missions."
Peter pouted theatrically. "Aw man, seriously? I was hoping to see everyone and celebrate my initiation. Maybe get streamers, a banner, confetti cannon—y'know, the usual."
Diana laughed quietly. Clark stepped up beside Peter and patted his back.
"Even if everyone's not here," Clark said, "there's someone you can see."
Peter tilted his head. "Okay, cryptic farm boy—who are we talking about?"
Before Clark could answer, Bruce cut in:
"He's talking about Karen."
Peter blinked. "…Power Girl Karen?"
Diana's lips curved into a knowing smirk. "She is quite attracted to you."
Peter stared. "She—wait—what? Is that actually true?"
Clark nodded casually. "Very. And as her cousin, I'd like to state on record that I approve of you two if anything develops."
Peter choked on absolutely nothing. "Kh—wow—uh—okay—good to know!"
He cleared his throat, face warming beneath the mask. "So… where is she now?"
Bruce tapped a control on a nearby panel, glancing at scrolling security feeds. "Last I checked, she was in the cafeteria."
Peter straightened. "Cool. Great. Awesome. I guess that's where I'm headed, then!"
With a two-finger salute, Peter turned and headed toward the doors. As they slid open for him, he paused just long enough to shoot his three friends a look that was equal parts excitement and panic… then walked out.
The doors sealed behind him, leaving Bruce, Clark, and Diana alone in the quiet.
Clark crossed his arms, smiling faintly. "I have faith in him."
Diana nodded. "Peter is a good man."
Bruce's smirk deepened just a fraction. "I'm just wondering how that situation is going to develop."
The trio exchanged looks—half amusement, half curiosity.
Watchtower Cafeteria
BGM: Kingdom Hearts II - Lazy Afternoons
The Watchtower cafeteria was calm at this hour—quiet hums of machinery, low chatter through the room, and the faint scent of reheated meals lingering in the air. Karen sat alone at a corner table, picking through the last bites of a salad. Once finished, she slid the bowl aside and tilted her head toward one of the overhead monitors, catching up on the latest civilian news—world events, random headlines, nothing particularly out of the ordinary.
Around her, a few League members ate at separate tables, discussing missions in hushed tones or scrolling through data pads. It was peaceful—at least until a familiar voice chimed behind her:
"Excuse me, miss. Would you like to have pizza time with me?"
Karen blinked, turned, and found Peter standing there—mask off, warm grin on his face, and two plates stacked with pepperoni pizza balanced in his hands.
She stared at him for a beat—processing the question, the timing, and of course, the pizza—before a faint smirk curved her lips.
With a casual shrug, she replied, "I can never turn down a slice. You have perfect timing—I was just about to get one myself."
Peter set her plate down in front of her like a waiter presenting a special entrée. "Well, lucky for you, my Spider-Sense also detects pizza cravings."
He sat down, set his own plate on the table, but before he dug in, he glanced up at her. "So… how've you been, Karen?"
Karen leaned back slightly, elbows resting on the chair. "Pretty okay. Just busier than usual—patrols, missions, saving the world, the usual." She raised a brow back at him. "You?"
Peter exhaled through his nose. "I've been alright. Y'know—just juggling rent, enemies with questionable fashion choices. The normal chaos of my life."
Karen laughed—genuine and bright. "I understand that completely."
As she took her first bite, curiosity flickered across her expression. "So—Clark convinced you to join the League, huh?"
Peter nodded. "He did. Honestly, I'm looking forward to seeing how it all turns out—even if I'm kinda a noob at the whole 'working on a team' thing."
Karen scoffed and waved a dismissive hand. "You'll be fine. You're Spider-Man for a reason."
Peter grinned. "I mean technically, I'm Spider-Man because a radioactive spider bit me when I was fifteen."
Karen rolled her eyes—not annoyed, just amused. "You know that's not what I meant."
She paused for another bite, then clarified, voice softer but firm:
"Getting bit gave you powers. But choosing to use those powers to help people? That's what actually makes you Spider-Man." She held his gaze. "And if anyone deserves to be on the Justice League, it's you."
Peter blinked, thrown off by the sincerity. A small, grateful smile pulled at his lips. "Thanks, Karen. Really. That… means a lot."
Karen waved it off lightly but returned the smile—still confident, but touched with warmth. "Don't thank me. I'm just telling the truth."
For a moment, Peter just… looked at her. He'd always known Karen was beautiful—it wasn't exactly a secret—but something about the way she smiled made her practically glow. Still, trying to keep his composure, he took a bite of pizza instead of staring too long.
Swallowing, he said softly, "I'm not trying to make things weird or anything, but… you have a really pretty smile."
It was Karen's turn to blink. She processed the compliment—not dismissively, not defensively, but genuinely. Her smile widened—only just a fraction—and she nodded.
"Thank you. Not weird at all." Then, with a lighter tone, but a raw undercurrent beneath it, she added, "My smile hides a lot of pain."
Peter nodded slowly, eyes reflecting a quiet kind of understanding. "Yeah. I get that."
A silence lingered between them—not uncomfortable, just real.
After a moment, Peter tried to lighten the mood. "For what it's worth—if you ever need someone to trauma dump on, I'm your guy."
Karen laughed softly, shaking her head in amusement. But her eyes—those told another story. They appreciated the offer. "Thanks. And same goes for you. You're free to trauma dump on me whenever."
Now Peter laughed. "Deal. I'll keep that in mind."
They each finished their slices, sharing the occasional glance. Then, as the plates sat empty, another quiet stretched in. Not awkward—just thoughtful.
Karen tilted her head. "You look like you're thinking about something."
Peter snapped out of whatever loop he'd been running in. He considered brushing it off—throwing out a joke, dodging—but something told him that wouldn't feel right.
So instead, he inhaled once, nodded, and said, "Yeah… I am."
He leaned his elbows onto the table slightly. "We've been good friends for a while now. And I was thinking that… I'd like to take you out on a date sometime." Quickly, he added, "If you want to, of course. No pressure. I'd get it if you didn't."
Karen blinked—surprised, but far from offended. After a beat, her arms crossed and she smirked.
"Why would you think I wouldn't want to go on a date with you?"
Peter rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't think that. I just… wanted to make sure you'd be comfortable. I wouldn't want to lose you as a friend."
That part—that line—made Karen's smirk falter into something much softer. Warmer.
She slowly uncrossed her arms and extended her hand across the table. She didn't say anything—she didn't need to. Peter blinked, then reached out, and their fingers intertwined.
Karen smiled. "One date is never enough to ruin a friendship."
Peter let out a breath of playful relief. "Good to know."
They both laughed quietly.
BGM: Sade - Smooth Operator Instrumental
Then Karen said, "I'd like to go on a date with you, Peter. And I'm sure we'll have a lot of fun."
Peter smiled back—wide and earnest. "We will." He paused, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "So, uh—when are you free?"
Karen pretended to ponder this, tapping her own chin dramatically. "Unless a meteor decides to make a surprise visit to Earth… I should be free at eight tonight."
Peter's smile didn't budge. "In that case, I'll pick you up at eight." But then he winced, replaying the words in his mind. "Wow, I made that sound like I own a car or something."
Karen chuckled. "I knew what you meant."
Their smiles mirrored each other—warm, content, excited.
Then Peter, noticing their hands were still entwined, gently lifted Karen's hand and pressed a soft kiss against her knuckles.
Karen blinked—and a faint blush appeared, barely noticeable beneath her composure. She smirked anyway.
"You're a smooth operator, web-head. But you're not the only one."
Not wanting to be outdone, she took Peter's hand and pressed her own kiss against it—slow, confident, mischievous.
Now Peter blushed.
Karen let go of his hand and rose from her chair. "See you at eight, Spidey."
With that, she walked off with effortless grace—leaving Peter staring after her, momentarily dazed. When she left the cafeteria completely, Peter finally blinked and shook his head.
"Get it together, Parker," he muttered, standing.
He turned toward the exit—then froze.
Standing just inside the doorway were Bruce, Clark, and Diana—arms crossed, knowing expressions perfectly synchronized.
Peter stared. "…You guys saw all that, huh?"
Clark smirked. "We saw everything."
Peter groaned. Diana approached with a gentle grin. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. You're clearly a smooth operator."
Peter looked down, shaking his head with a half-laugh he couldn't suppress.
Bruce tilted his head. "Need money for the date?"
Peter immediately waved his hands. "No, no, I'm good—I don't want to take anything from you." He paused. "I mean… I do have to pay rent soon, and groceries keep getting more expensive, and then I have—"
He stopped himself mid-ramble, and suddenly cleared his throat.
"…But I should be okay."
Bruce smirked. "If you change your mind, let me know."
Peter nodded gratefully.
Clark chimed in. "Besides, Karen isn't an expensive date. She's down to earth. She'd probably prefer something casual."
Peter exhaled. "That definitely works out in my favor."
New York City
Peter soared over the New York skyline once again, weaving between buildings as the city lights streaked beneath him. Technically, this was business as usual—night patrol, acrobatics, friendly neighborhood stuff—but his brain was very far removed from crimefighting at the moment.
In fact, he was pretty sure half his internal organs had gotten replaced by butterflies.
"I actually agreed to join the Justice League," he muttered under his breath, still in disbelief. "And I'm going on a date with Karen—Power Girl—Kryptonian knockout, cousin of Superman. Sure. Yeah. Totally normal Tuesday for Peter Parker."
He took a tight swing turn around a skyscraper corner and exhaled shakily. Was he nervous? Yes. Was he excited? Also yes. Did he want to punch himself in the face for being both? Very much yes.
"You've gone on dates before, Pete," he reminded himself. "MJ, Gwen, Felicia—check, check, annnd... check. You have chemistry with Karen already. You're two cool, confident, hero-type people. Easy."
He paused mid-swing to scoff at his own reflection in a passing office window.
"Okay that's a lie. I'm like 0% confident right now."
As if timed perfectly, he pulled his phone from his suit pocket—yes, while still swinging—glanced at the screen, and nearly choked inside his mask.
"Seven fifty!? Oh no no no no—!"
He stuffed the phone back into his suit and picked up speed instantly. The last thing he wanted was to show up late. Again. Because the cosmic forces of irony had it out for him since birth.
"Just once," he pleaded with existence, "just ONCE let me be on time for—"
SPIDER-SENSE TINGLING!
His Spider-Sense flared so violently that the rest of his sentence came out as one long, suffering groan.
"Oh, you gotta be kidding me—!"
FLASH!
BGM: The Amazing Spider-Man 2 - Electro Theme
A blinding arc of electricity tore through the air. Peter jerked his body sideways, barely dodging the first blast—but the second hit his webline, vaporizing it instantly. He fell, rolled across the asphalt, and skidded to a stop just in time for pedestrians to start screaming and scattering in every direction.
Then came the very loud, very smug entrance.
"Well, well, well. If it isn't my old friend Spider-Man!"
Peter already knew who it was before he fully looked—but seeing Electro floating down, wreathed in crackling energy with the world's most punchable grin, still made him sigh so deep it probably counted as cardio.
"Electro. Buddy. Pal." Spider-Man rubbed his temples. "You have the absolute worst timing. I'm supposed to be getting ready for a date with a beautiful girl and you're screwing up my whole schedule right now."
Electro blinked once, then burst into laughter.
"Oh, that'll be the least of your problems by the time I'm through with you!"
Peter dropped into a combat stance. "Max, we can save ourselves a lot of trouble if you just agree to go back to the Raft and—"
"I'M NEVER GOING BACK!" Electro shrieked, blasting an enormous bolt directly at him.
Peter flipped skyward, brushing death by half an inch, and he would think to himself, "I REALLY hate my Parker Luck right now!"
Manhattan — Karen's Penthouse
Karen stood before her mirror, sliding on a pair of earrings. They glinted under the soft lighting, matching the simple but elegant outfit she'd chosen. She looked good…and she knew Peter would think so, which made the corner of her mouth curl upward.
"I'm honestly looking forward to tonight," she admitted to her reflection. Then, amused, "Though I won't be surprised if Peter ends up late."
SCREAMS!
Before the smirk could even settle, her expression snapped serious—her super-hearing catching terrified screams. Her gaze shot to the television, which, as always, was on the news.
Stan Lee—ever the legend—stood on-screen, mic in hand, hair ruffled by wind.
"I'm reporting live at the scene, folks! Spider-Man is currently fighting Electro, and from the looks of it, the web-head could use some backup before he's literally toasted!"
Karen didn't need further details.
In a streak of motion, her outfit vanished, replaced by her Power Girl suit. The windows blew open and she blasted into the night sky.
Back to the Fight
Spider-Man zipped forward, webline snapping him straight toward Electro. He planted both feet into Max's stomach, sending him back.
BAM!
Electro wheezed—but the rage came faster than the oxygen.
He unleashed a tidal wave of electricity bigger than anything Peter had seen all night.
ZAP!
"Oh that's—GAAAH—!" Spider-Man barely got out before the blast slammed him through the empty shell of a parked car, his body bouncing off the interior and crashing onto the pavement.
He tried to sit up, teeth grit, but another beam caught him instantly. The current seized his muscles, pinning him, forcing the scream out of his throat.
Electro stood over him, triumphant and giddy.
"This is the END for you, Spider-Man!"
Even through the agony, Peter rasped, "Is… that all you got?"
Electro cackled, "Oh I have PLENTY MO—"
POW!
He never finished.
Because something—no, someone—delivered the fastest, hardest punch Max Dillon had ever taken in his entire electro-charged life.
Electro flew so far and so fast that he dented a hydrant across the street, exploding it into a geyser that soaked the street—and shorted out the rest of Max's power. He collapsed, twitching, before passing out cold.
Power Girl hovered down, fists clenched, eyes icy.
"Stay away from Spider-Man."
Then she heard the groan behind her.
BGM: Dispatch - Easier If We Fly
She turned, fear replacing fire in an instant. She landed beside Peter, dropping to her knees, voice soft and urgent.
"Spidey, are you okay?"
He nodded weakly. "Yeah. I mean… I will be. Just need some… cooldown time." He coughed once. "No pun intended."
Then, with a pained, wheezy smirk, "Also I—ah—had it covered."
Karen rolled her eyes, though there was unmistakable warmth behind it.
"Oh yes. Totally. My mistake," she said sarcastically, extending a hand.
Peter chuckled, taking it. She hauled him upright—but his legs wobbled, so she slid an arm around his shoulders without hesitation. He leaned into her, letting his weight rest against her strength.
"Thanks…" he breathed.
"Anytime." she replied.
After a beat, Peter managed, "Sooo… we're still having that date, right?"
Karen raised a brow. "We're not having a date with you in this condition."
Peter put on the saddest mock pout in the history of mock pouts. "I'm fiiine. I just need a moment to… y'know… exist."
Karen stayed firm, giving a disapproving look—until Peter added, "What if we… compromise? Your penthouse. I recover. Date continues. Boom. Teamwork."
Karen stared, processing. She knew Peter well enough already—he wouldn't let this go. Finally, she sighed.
"…Fine."
Peter mentally fist-pumped so hard it could've shattered the Multiverse.
Power Girl's grip shifted subtly—protective, steady, warm.
"Hold on tight," she warned.
Peter obeyed, and seconds later they were airborne. Flying with Karen wasn't like swinging. The city didn't roar around him—it unfurled soft and shimmering beneath him. For once, he wasn't moving under his own momentum. He was being carried.
It felt… nice.
He glanced at Karen—focused, composed, beautiful in a way that made his heart do a weird double-thump. He smiled under his mask.
Soon they landed inside her penthouse. She guided him to the couch, where he collapsed with a dramatic exhale.
"This feels way better than being electrocuted," he declared.
Karen smirked and sat beside him. "I'd be concerned if you thought otherwise."
Peter peeled off his mask, ready with a snarky comeback—only to wince. Karen's smirk vanished immediately.
"What do you need?"
Peter closed his eyes, breathing shallowly. "…Just need to lie down."
Karen absorbed those words quietly. Then, without hesitation, she scooted closer, slid her arms around him, and eased both of them backward until they were nestled into the couch together—Peter's head resting against her shoulder, her arms securing him gently.
Peter's eyes went wide, face heating up like a toaster. "Uh—this is—this is—"
"Is this okay?" she asked softly.
Peter swallowed, then managed, "Yeah. This is… okay."
Silence settled—comfortable and warm.
After a moment, Peter muttered, "You are… a dangerously smooth operator."
Karen's laugh vibrated through him, small but genuine.
"I'm glad you finally realized that."
Peter chuckled, the tension draining from his muscles with every passing second. The sparks of pain faded, replaced by warmth and safety and the soft hum of the city below.
Karen reached for the remote, flicked to some random movie neither of them recognized, and leaned back again.
"Anything you want to watch?" she asked.
Peter blinked lazily. "Pick anything. Dealer's choice."
Karen smirked. "You should be careful giving me that kind of power."
Peter grinned. "Says the woman literally named Power Girl."
Karen paused, then laughed. "…Fair point."
But after that, neither said anything for a while.
The city lights bled in through the tall windows of the penthouse, neon colors mixing with the warm lamp glow of the living room. For once, New York felt… soft. Quiet. Like it understood that the two heroes inside needed a pause.
Eventually, Peter let out a quiet sigh.
"Okay," he said, voice still a bit rough, "I'm just gonna say it: Electro owes me a new suit."
Karen snorted—not a polite laugh, but a genuine, bright laugh that shook her shoulders against his. "Right, I'll make sure the Justice League passes a resolution about that."
Peter laughed. "Please do. Also, add a clause that villains aren't allowed to interrupt my dates. It's only fair."
"Mm-hmm," Karen hummed in amusement, giving him a playful glance. "Next time you can file the complaint yourself. Tonight, you're on medical leave."
Peter tilted his head slightly, looking up at her with a crooked half-smile. "So, is 'medical leave' Justice League policy for cuddle time or is that just your interpretation?"
Karen smirked, holding her calm for a solid three seconds before conceding. "Let's call it… a discretionary enforcement of recovery protocols."
Peter chuckled again, softer this time—because laughing still made his ribs complain—but he didn't pull away. Instead, he let his head rest more fully against her shoulder, eyes half-closing as the adrenaline continued to bleed out of his system.
"You know," he murmured after a moment, "this wasn't exactly how I pictured tonight going."
Karen turned her head just slightly, brushing away a stray strand of blonde hair from her face. "Yeah," she admitted, "me either."
"But…" Peter continued, voice drifting as he tried to find the right words, "still kind of a win, right?"
Karen looked down at him—messy-haired, bruised, mildly burnt in some places—and her smile softened in a way that had nothing to do with smirks or teasing.
"Yeah," she said quietly. "Definitely a win."
Another stretch of peaceful silence fell over them, punctuated only by the muffled sound of cinematic battle scenes from the TV. Eventually, Karen grabbed the throw blanket at the edge of the couch and pulled it over both of them, adjusting it without shifting Peter too much.
He blinked, surprised by the small gesture. "You really came prepared for this whole 'recovery cuddle protocol' thing, huh?"
"Super strength comes with super planning," Karen said, feigning seriousness. "It's in the manual."
Peter gave a huff of laughter—more air than sound—and closed his eyes fully for the first time since Electro blasted him off a webline.
"You know," he muttered, "if this is what dates with you are like, I think I made an excellent life choice."
Karen arched a brow. "Getting electrocuted or the cuddling part?"
Peter's voice turned sheepish. "Uh, bold as it is, I'm gonna go with option B."
Karen laughed again—a softer one this time—and reached over with her free hand to brush a bit of debris from his hair. "Good. I was worried there for a second."
Time passed.
The movie eventually shifted from explosions to heartfelt character development—at least probably… neither of them were keeping track—and somewhere between the second and third act, Peter's breathing evened out entirely.
He wasn't asleep. Not fully.
But for the first time since the night started, he wasn't in hero mode. He wasn't worrying about Electro, The Raft, or even how the date was supposed to go.
He just… existed.
With her.
Karen, for her part, stayed mostly still—more still than she was used to being—letting Peter relax with his head against her shoulder and his mask discarded on the coffee table like some kind of symbolic proof that tonight wasn't about Spider-Man.
Just Peter.
Eventually, though, he cracked one eye open.
"…So," he said in a quiet voice, "does this mean we're definitely doing a second date?"
Karen smiled—not teasing, not smug, just warm. "Yeah," she answered. "It does."
Peter closed his eye again, settling back in. "…Cool. Just needed to lock that in for scheduling purposes."
Karen rolled her eyes—but the fond kind—and shifted just slightly to get more comfortable against him.
"Rest, Peter," she said softly.
"Mmhm…" he murmured, already halfway there.
And so the night continued: two heroes, one blanket, a half-forgotten movie, and a calm that both of them had earned more times than they cared to count.
The date hadn't gone as planned.
But somehow, in the most unexpected and Parker Luck kind of way…
It went exactly right.
END OF CHAPTER 1: SMOOTH OPERATOR
Peter: Well, that date was something.
Karen: Yeah, it was.
Clark: Are those sparks I see?
Diana: *Chuckles* Leave them alone, Kal.
Bruce: We should investigate how Electro escaped from the Raft.