Chapter 34 : Tactical Partnership
New York, Manhattan, ESU – Alex's POV
Morning sunlight filtered through the tall glass windows of ESU's main building as I made my way across the courtyard, backpack slung over one shoulder. The usual noise of campus life filled the air — chatter, laughter, the distant thump of a bass from some speaker. My eyes, though, were scanning for something specific.
Or rather, someone.
No sign of Gwen.
I checked a few of the usual spots — near the science hall, by the benches outside the café — but she wasn't there. A small pinch of disappointment settled in my chest. It wasn't unusual for her to disappear for a day or two lately; classes, band practice, or… other responsibilities. Still, I'd hoped to catch her before lecture.
I pulled out my phone, thumbs hovering a moment before typing.
Alex: Hey. Wanted to talk later — nothing bad, promise. You free after rehearsal?
The message sent, I pocketed the phone and forced myself to focus on the day ahead.
Classes passed in their usual rhythm — notes, projects, the quiet hum of computers. Between lectures, I reviewed a few updates for my side project and half-listened to conversations about the next midterm. The hours slid by without much friction, and though I caught myself checking my phone more often than I'd like, I kept my mind busy.
When classes wrapped up, I grabbed a quick bite and made my way toward the studio where The Mary Janes usually rehearsed.
The familiar sound of instruments tuning drifted through the cracked door. I knocked once before stepping in.
"Hey, Alex!" Mary Jane called, flashing me that confident grin that always seemed one part charm, one part challenge.
"Hey yourself," I said, taking a seat off to the side. "You ready to break eardrums again?"
Laughter rippled through the room. The girls warmed up, and soon the energy shifted from chatter to rhythm. Gwen wasn't there yet — she'd mentioned being late — so I watched the rest run through their set.
Between songs, they asked for feedback. I gave some thoughts — a tighter bridge here, softer backing there. They listened, nodding, tweaking.
Mary Jane lingered a bit closer than necessary when she asked for my opinion, leaning in just enough that her perfume brushed the edge of my senses. Her smile carried a subtle playfulness — not overt, but unmistakable. She wasn't stupid; she knew Gwen was my girlfriend. Which made the teasing even more deliberate.
Still, I didn't bite. Just offered a smirk and a neutral comment, keeping the line balanced between friendly and polite.
After a couple of hours, the final chord rang out and the session wound down. The girls started packing up instruments, trading jokes and goodbyes.
When Gwen finally joined me outside, the light was already soft and orange, the late-afternoon sun brushing the tops of the buildings. We started walking side by side, our steps falling into rhythm almost automatically.
I shot her a sideways glance, a crooked grin tugging at my lips. "You know," I began casually, "you missed quite the show. Mary Jane spent the entire rehearsal flirting with me every time you weren't looking. I'm starting to think she was testing the limits of your spider-sense."
Gwen groaned, rolling her eyes but unable to hide the small smile pulling at her mouth. "Please. MJ flirts with anything that breathes and can hold a decent rhythm. You're just the latest target of opportunity."
"Oh, so I'm replaceable now," I said, feigning offense.
She smirked, eyes glinting with amusement. "Completely. Though, I'll admit, she does have good taste. I should probably check with her — see when she plans on lending you back to me."
I laughed, shaking my head. "Generous of you to negotiate my custody like that."
Gwen grinned wider. "Hey, I'm just trying to avoid a band breakup over you. Can't have that on my conscience."
That made me chuckle for real. The tension that had been hanging in my chest all day loosened a little. We kept talking as we walked — about the rehearsal, about how crazy one of her professors was, about the way the city felt almost peaceful when the sun dipped low. Nothing serious, nothing heavy. Just us.
That made me chuckle. The tension that had been hanging in my chest all day loosened a little. We kept talking as we walked — about the rehearsal, about how crazy one of her professors was, about the way the city felt almost peaceful when the sun dipped low. Nothing serious, nothing heavy. Just us.
By the time we reached her neighborhood, the streets had settled into that early-evening calm — a few cars humming by, the distant bark of a dog, and the faint scent of someone's dinner drifting from an open window. Gwen slowed her pace as her house came into view.
For once, the lights were on in the living room. Through the window, I caught a glimpse of Captain Stacy, still in uniform but looking tired, a coffee mug in hand as he read through a few papers.
"Looks like you've got company tonight," I said quietly, nodding toward the window.
Gwen smiled faintly. "Yeah. He's been working late all week. Guess I got lucky."
We climbed the front steps together. As she unlocked the door, I straightened a bit instinctively — the way you do when you're about to greet someone who radiates authority.
The door swung open, and Captain Stacy looked up from the couch. His expression softened slightly when he saw Gwen, then shifted toward me — that neutral, assessing look he always gave.
"Evening, sir," I said politely, giving a respectful nod. "Hope I'm not intruding."
"Not at all, Alex," he replied, his tone easy. There was a pride in his voice, subtle but unmistakable. He regarded me like a boy he already trusted, someone he could one day imagine as family. "It's good to see you."
I felt a small, unexpected warmth at his words. He considered me well-behaved, capable, someone who could be a good influence on Gwen — maybe even a future son-in-law someday. The tension I sometimes felt around adults like him melted away.
Gwen nudged me gently. "Come on, let's talk in my room," she said, steering me toward the stairs.
I followed, letting the door close behind us. Once we were inside, she leaned against her desk and crossed her arms, her eyes meeting mine. For the first time in a while, it was just the two of us, no interruptions, no distractions.
I followed, letting the door close behind us. Once we were inside, she leaned against her desk and crossed her arms, her eyes meeting mine. For the first time in a while, it was just the two of us, no interruptions, no distractions.
I took a deep breath, breaking the silence. "There are… two things I'd like to talk about," I began, my voice calm but deliberate. Gwen tilted her head slightly, giving me her full attention.
"The first…" I hesitated just a fraction, choosing my words carefully, "It's about who you would like to see me have sex with and who you would like to see be part of my harem. I can accept it for Mary Jane and the others, but as for my mother and my sister... I'm not ready to talk about it or even consider it yet."
Gwen's expression softened, a small nod indicating she understood. "That's fine," she said simply, and there was no judgment in her tone, only acceptance.
I let a small smile slip before continuing. "The second thing is… about you, about you being Spider Woman." My eyes met hers, serious now. "We need to figure out how to handle it — how I can help, and what it means for us."
Gwen leaned back slightly, adopting a confident posture, her eyes fixed on mine without the slightest hesitation. "Regarding the first point," she said in a calm voice, "I want you to sleep with other women and have your harem. As long as you don't hide from me who they are, and you tell me how you fuck them or I can watch, that's perfectly fine with me."
I shook my head, a faint smirk tugging at my lips. "I can't promise I'll fuck other women or have a harem," I said carefully. "But… if the opportunity ever comes, I won't turn it down because of you."
Gwen's eyes narrowed slightly, a mix of curiosity and amusement. "Good," she said, her tone steady. "I'm sure the opportunity will present itself"
I leaned back slightly, letting my words hang in the air for a moment. "So… about Spider Woman," I began, leaning forward again. "I know I can't stop you from being her, and I'm not going to try. What I can do is support you — not just emotionally, by saying I understand, but actually… in practice. If you go out there, we do it together."
Gwen's expression softened, a hint of curiosity flickering in her eyes. "I'm listening," she said, crossing her arms. "But how? Your powers… they're not exactly built for fighting crime."
"I get that," I said. "And I know my abilities aren't really suited for direct combat. But what if we looked at it differently? You handle the field, I handle the information, coordination, support. I can track movements, predict patterns, keep an eye on potential threats, and feed it to you in real time. Think of it as… tactical support."
Gwen tilted her head, considering. "So you'd basically be my eyes and brain from somewhere safe? Watching the bigger picture?"
"Exactly," I said, nodding. "I can't replace you on the ground, but I can make sure nothing blindsides you. And maybe we can find ways to use my… other skills to compensate for what I can't do physically. Strategize your routes, anticipate opponents, analyze encounters afterward to improve next time."
Her lips curved into a small, thoughtful smile. "I like that. But we'd have to be really in sync. Even a second's delay in communication could… well, you know."
"I know," I admitted. "We'll need signals, protocols, maybe even some tech help. But I think we can build it. I can learn to anticipate your style, your patterns, and help make your moves safer and more effective. It'd be like… a partnership on and off the field."
Gwen leaned closer, eyes bright with a mix of excitement and seriousness. "Partnership, huh? I like that word. But it also means I have to trust you won't just sit in a chair and watch. You need to think ahead, stay sharp, adapt like you're part of the action even if you're not physically there."
I smirked, feeling the shift in my own mindset. "I can do that. I'll be in the chair, yes, but I won't just be watching — I'll be reacting, predicting, analyzing. Whatever it takes to make sure you can focus on what you do best."
She nodded slowly, a spark of determination in her gaze. "Alright… let's figure out how to make this work. Together."
"Together," I echoed, the word feeling heavier with meaning than ever before.