Peter knew absolutely nothing about what was going down in Rome. He didn't know who Nick Fury had deployed, only that Fury had definitely sent someone.
For now, Spider-Man's primary mission in Madrid consisted of snapping tourist photos. Surprisingly, the city was quiet. The local police handled what little crime popped up with boring efficiency. If they needed heavy hitters, they hired out the Wild Pack. No supervillains crashing through bank vaults, no megalomaniacs trying to level the city grid. That kind of chaos seemed exclusively reserved for New York.
"This is completely rigged," Harry muttered. He shifted a massive stack of shopping bags, shooting a glare at Peter. "Explain to me why you get to stroll around playing photographer while I'm acting as a human pack mule?"
"Simple economics, Lyman," Flash said.
Flash dropped a heavy shoulder into Harry, nearly knocking him off balance. "Parker's on camera duty because he's built like a twig. I carry the heavy artillery." Flash hoisted a canvas bag easily twice the size of Harry's, jutting his chin out in challenge.
Peter just shrugged, lifting the camera by its strap. He wasn't about to argue. This dynamic meant he didn't have to worry about looking over his shoulder for once.
A few yards away, MJ leaned in close to Gwen, watching Peter. "So... you two have gone on dates, but it's not official yet? What's the hold-up?" She narrowed her eyes. "Other girls? I feel like his baggage goes deeper than that."
Gwen exhaled, her shoulders dropping slightly. "Maybe. I just don't want to push him. What if... what if it just makes him pull away?"
"Then you go on the offensive," MJ said smoothly. "Give me names. Who's the competition?"
Gwen shot a glance toward Peter, who was currently tapping away on his phone, entirely oblivious. She shook her head. She didn't want to add to his stress. Peter downplayed the things he faced, brushing off last night's battle like a minor inconvenience, but Gwen knew better. He was carrying the weight of the city, and she wasn't going to pile on.
Across the plaza, Peter paused. He glanced over at Gwen, held up his phone, and raised an eyebrow. Gwen felt her phone buzz. She dug it out, reading the text. A slow smirk pulled at her mouth.
MJ leaned over her shoulder, reading the screen. "Lunch? Just the two of you?" MJ sighed loudly. "I suppose you'd mind if I crashed?"
"Without a doubt," Gwen shot back, pocketing her phone. "I definitely mind."
MJ threw her hands up. "Perfect. Liz and Harry are a thing, Betty and Thompson are a thing, and now you two. This band is going to implode in under a month."
"If one date destroys the band, we need to have a serious talk about our lead singer's resilience," Gwen countered. She hoisted her bag over her shoulder. "Besides, you have Bugle articles to write. Didn't Jameson put you on a deadline?"
"Cruel and unusual," MJ groaned, rolling her eyes with a lazy smile. She offered a brief wave and spun on her heel, disappearing into the crowd.
Gwen jogged over to Peter. He blinked, looking at her empty hands. "You didn't buy anything?"
"Do you honestly think my dad getting a promotion means I get a bigger allowance?" Gwen laughed. "Not a chance."
"Can't relate," Peter grinned, tapping his camera. "I'm pulling down two internship stipends from the Baxter Building and Osborn Industries. Though, to be fair, I haven't actually done any real work for them yet."
Gwen rolled her eyes, bumping her shoulder against his. "So, what brought on the sudden lunch invite?"
Peter rubbed the back of his neck, his fingers catching on the camera strap. "I just... nothing else is going on. I wanted to say thank you."
For Earth-65, he thought. On Earth-65, Gwen had risked her neck to find him, throwing herself into the fire to help that universe's Spider-Gwen. Peter couldn't interfere with the Web of Fate, but Gwen hadn't hesitated to use her own abilities.
"Not a bad excuse," Gwen said, letting the silence stretch for two seconds. "Where are we eating?"
"There's a Spanish paella joint down the street," Peter said, pointing. "Madrid is inland, so I can't guarantee the seafood. Paella is a Valencia thing. But we're heading to Valencia next to catch the boat to Naples, so we can always do a taste test later."
Gwen fell into step beside him. "I promise you, I won't be able to taste the difference."
"Same. Let's go."
Peter steered them toward a small, unassuming spot on the corner. He avoided high-end restaurants. Partly because he'd never really been to one, and partly because he figured you were just paying for the privilege of leaving hungry. If Peter Parker had a dining philosophy, it was strictly hole-in-the-wall joints where the locals actually ate.
They grabbed a table and ordered the seafood paella. While they waited, Peter stood up. "Need to wash my hands. Be right back."
He checked with the owner, got a thumb pointed toward the back hallway, and pushed open the restroom door.
The second the door clicked shut, Peter froze. His spine locked. The air didn't smell right. For a semi-public bathroom in a bustling restaurant, it was entirely too sterile. No bleach, no dampness. Just cold, filtered air.
He spun on his heel to leave, but the lock engaged with a heavy, metallic thunk.
The tiled walls flickered. The holographic projection dissolved into thin air, revealing the cold steel bulkheads of a mobile command center.
Nick Fury sat in a swivel chair, boots propped up on a metal table, methodically rotating a Rubik's Cube in his single hand.
"How's the European vacation treating you, Spider-Man?" Fury asked, his voice a low rumble.
Peter let out a long, slow breath. "Actually, I just really needed to use the bathroom. And this is clearly a closet."
Fury stopped twisting the cube. He stared at Peter for three agonizingly long seconds. He let out a deep, tired sigh. "The bathroom is next door. Go handle your business. And don't even think about climbing out a window."
"I just hope you aren't planning to eat up my whole afternoon, Fury," Peter said, shifting his weight. If he vanished for an hour, Gwen would instantly know something was wrong.
"Gwendolyn knows who you are," Fury said smoothly, not looking up from the cube. "She knows your disappearing acts involve tights. Relax. I'm not here to ruin your date. I just need to brief you on the Elementals.