When he had left the house, May was already gone.
Before leaving, he had prepared food for Caesar and Selina.
Caesar was probably still asleep.
Some days he suspected he had accidentally introduced sloth DNA into the formula.
Selina was almost certainly on the roof sunbathing. Strange, but consistent.
'This walking thing is starting to get on my nerves,' he thought, moving through the street with his headphones in.
'After this I will go to a dealership and buy something. Also, it was the right call to keep my name off the products I launch. People only know that someone at Baxter created them.
I have been careful enough with the other things. Once I have enough capital I will start building the company. I will not be the Peter Parker without a company.
And when I reveal who created the products people already use and love, I will already have a positive relationship with the public before the anno---.'
In the mid-thought something hit him in the face.
He stopped and looked at what had landed on him. A piece of paper.
He unfolded it out of curiosity.
"Wow," he said.
"This is genuinely interesting. Chikara Dojo, 47 Monroe Street. Chinatown-Brooklyn. Sensei Colleen Wing.
A place that teaches self-defense and sword practice."
He looked at the pamphlet. "Something like this would be very useful. I cannot always use Ip Man's techniques. Especially with people like Danny Rand or Shang-Chi, or The Hand.
Especially The Hand. A large repertoire of hand-to-hand disciplines is considerably better than one. Sword practice in particular."
He started trotting toward Baxter.
'The question is who goes. Going as Peter Parker would be problematic, especially when I demonstrate the level of skill I would demonstrate.
I also do not know if Colleen is still affiliated with The Hand, or whether she knows how fake the scholarships she offers actually are.
Going as Spider-Man is out of the question. I do not want them coming after me for my abilities the way Ra's al Ghul went after Bruce.
This association has a close connection to the League of Shadows. I need a third identity.
Someone they do not know. Someone who does not exist. Someone who is, to the outside world, a walking accumulation of unfortunate circumstances.'
He smiled under his expression. 'I have a very specific idea.'
He threw the pamphlet in the bin as he arrived at Baxter.
He entered to find Susan giving instructions to several men who were carefully moving equipment from one section of the building to another.
He approached from behind, opened his arms, and wrapped them around her abdomen.
Susan jumped and looked to her left where his face was resting on her shoulder.
"Peter?"
"Hi, Susan. It has been a while. I was going to ask what you have been doing, but you already answered the question yesterday."
He looked around at the movement in the corridor. "Now my question is, how did you get those powers?"
Susan rested her head against his.
"We were investigating the possibility of traveling between dimensions or realities," she said.
"But everything went wrong when some unexpected events occurred. Everyone else got out alive, but we suffered some changes. As you saw yesterday."
"Yes, clearly. Continue."
"When the others returned, one of the radiation waves came back with them. Other scientists and I were nearby when it arrived and the wave hit us.
The scientists died. I survived. The wave hit me while I was working on their return mechanisms. I could have gone myself, but there was no guarantee anyone would be able to bring us back, so Johnny went in my place."
She paused. "All of this happened outside the city. For a while, nothing happened. Then we began to change. Ben, who was Reed's friend from long before any of this, had helped him develop the theory and the machine when they were young.
He was also something like Reed's lucky charm, which is why he went with the others. On the return, he was struck by some of the debris.
At first no one was concerned because he had no visible injuries. But when the change came, he became what you have probably already seen."
"Yes," Peter said. "The Thing."
"Good name. I will tell Ben later."
She smiled slightly. "We have no clear theory yet about where Reed's and my effects originated. Johnny's were straightforward: his capsule was damaged on the return journey, causing it to catch fire.
When we first woke up from our comas we were all together in a lab room, except for Victor, whose people demanded he be returned to their care immediately.
For a while, we trained our abilities so we would not be a danger to others. A strange organization called SHIELD also said they would try to help us. During all of this, the only one who could come and go freely was Dad."
"That is why I saw the Sir Storm so rarely."
"Yes. He also told me about the things you did. He told me not to say anything about that. I would have liked to help you, but I could not call because the organization would not allow outside communication, and sending messages was impossible since my phone was destroyed in the accident."
She paused. "But I have transferred everything to the new phone you created. I must say, it is considerably better than what I had before. Every metric improved."
She shifted slightly. "Getting back to yesterday. Victor came for the machine blueprints. He wanted more power. We managed to stop him.
After Spider-Man left, we decided to burn all the research so it could not fall into the wrong hands."
"Good decision," Peter said. "I have one more question if you can answer it."
"Which one?"
"Why is all of this being moved, and who is the man giving me unusual looks?" He indicated the direction.
"Oh! The one who was looking at you strangely is my brother. His name is Johnny Storm. He is genuinely gifted with mechanics.
Anything involving automotive improvements or components, you should ask Johnny. He is also developing new parts for the automotive industry, which is why I mentioned that he is a pilot."
'I did not say it before,' Peter thought, 'but it is remarkable that this is Johnny. And this version of Johnny apparently has a functioning brain, unlike either the film or the comic versions, both of whom are idiots with a capital I.... I cannot wait to see Captain Rogers' face when they meet.'
"I see," he said aloud. "And the reason for all this movement?"
"We are relocating to individual laboratories. The top floor of the building."
"Interesting. I am moving as well. To the thirtieth floor. One last question before I go."
"Which one?"
"When," he said, close to her ear, "will I see you in private wearing that sexy, tight outfit of yours?"
Susan went red immediately.
"If fate is willing," she whispered, equally close to his ear, and moved her hips back so that his crotch met her backside, "it could be sooner than later."
"That is all I wanted to hear," he said, pulled back, kissed her cheek, and headed to the elevator.
....