i.

Peter, Michelle and Ned were all in the library during their free period, looking over their history notes before their test in an hour. History was the only class all three of them had together, and Peter and Ned weren't huge fans. But Michelle loved history, and happened to be rather good at sharing her notes when asked with a big smile and puppy dog eyes.

"Hey, Michelle...?" Peter started hesitantly.

"You have looked at my page four times in the past twenty minutes, Parker," Michelle huffed. "Use your own notes for once."

"I wasn't going to ask for your notes!" Peter protested. "I just wanted to know if I spelled William Sherman's middle name right."

Michelle sighed heavily and tugged his paper toward her, squinting across his scribbles. "T-E-C-U-M-S-E-H. Yes, that's right." She continued to scan through his notes, before looking up at him and shaking her head. "Honestly, Peter, how do you even read these? Your handwriting is so..."

She paused, and Ned piped up. "Terrible?"

Considering him thoughtfully, Michelle smirked. "I was going to say spidery."

Peter's eyes bulged so far out of his head that Michelle was vaguely concerned that they were going to pop right out and start rolling around on the table in front of him. Ned forgot to breath, then remembered, then started choking.

Michelle just smirked wider and went back to her notes.

ii.

It was around 11:50 at night when Peter's phone buzzed with a FaceTime call.

He rolled blearily over in bed, wishing he had remembered to turn his phone on Do Not Disturb before he had crashed into bed.

To his surprise, he found Michelle Jones' deadpan-stare contact photo looking out at him. He accepted the FaceTime, looking at her blurry image in confusion. "MJ? What's going on?"

"Hey," Michelle replied. Her hair was up in a bun and she had a lamp on behind her, washing out her face. Peter couldn't even see his own image it was so dark in his room. "Now, this may come as a shock to you, but I need some help."

For the second time that evening, Peter was surprised. "You need... help? And you're asking me?"

"Well, duh," Michelle muttered, rolling her eyes. "We're taking the same class."

"Oh," Peter said, deflating.

"Goodness gracious, you're not special or something," Michelle sighed. "It's about that chemistry concept."

"Michelle, it's nearly tomorrow," Peter sighed, aching to go back to sleep. "Why are you still working on chemistry?"

"Because it's due tomorrow, genius," Michelle snapped. "And the closer to midnight it is, the better I work. So start explaining and I'll let you get back to sleep."

Peter groaned loudly and pushed himself out of bed. He flicked on his desk lamp hesitantly, not wanting Aunt May to come in to his room and find him FaceTiming a girl this late at night.

"Look, do you want me to just send you the answers to the problems you're having trouble with?" he asked, rooting through his already packed backpack for his math book.

Michelle huffed. "That's cheating, Parker. And besides, it's only questions 7 and 8 that I'm not getting."

Blearily, Peter scanned the page, and launched into the fastest, most comprehensive explanation possible. In about ten minutes both of them were yawning widely but Michelle had the general idea of what she was supposed to do.

She nodded. "See, this is why I call you."

Peter raised his eyebrows. "I though we just happened to have the same class?"

She winked, then hung up the phone.

iii.

"Dude, move!" Peter hissed, shoving Ned into an empty classroom as students began to stream down the hall.

Ned stumbled in, still babbling a steady stream of questions.

"Shhhh!" Peter shushed him, crouching down in the hopes that no one would be able to see him from a window.

He had come straight from stopping a burglary, skipping lunch in the process. Unfortunately, either his watch was fast or some other clock was slow, and when he arrived back at school (still in his Spider-Man costume), lunch had already finished. Ned, of course, had run right up to him, but Peter had panicked and rushed them into the classroom so he wouldn't be seen in his suit.

"Hey, Peter, Ned," a voice from behind them said.

Peter and Ned let out matching, high-pitched screams and leapt around. "Michelle!" Peter squeaked. "What are you-"

Her words registered with both boys simultaneously and Peter's voice abruptly dropped off.

He was still wearing his mask.

"You know?" Peter chocked out, shocked.

Michelle glanced up from her ever-present book. It seemed that with Peter and Ned absent from the lunch room she saw no reason to eat by herself in the midst of chattering high schoolers, and instead had chosen to shut herself in an empty classroom.

Michelle grinned widely. "I do now."

iv.

After Michelle learned (or, really, proved her theory on) Peter's secret identity, things became a lot easier. Michelle could be counted on to come up with excuses and cover stories a lot quicker and better than Ned- though of course Peter would never tell Ned that.

She also cared about the boys quite a bit, a fact that was accepted by them more than stated by her. But before this moment she had never before actively showed it to anyone other than Peter and Ned.

"Hey, Penis Parker!" Flash yelled over to Peter during lunch one afternoon. "You think Tony Stark is going to let you continue your "apprenticeship" when he hears you failed your math test today?"

Peter rolled his eyes, planting his chin on the palm of his hand and firmly ignoring his personal bully. Flash sat back down, laughing loudly with his jock friends.

Michelle Jones stood up. "Hey, Flash!" she called, echoing the beginning of Flash's jibe to start her own insult. "You think you're going to be able to get into any internships at all now that you've flunked both the math and Spanish tests this week? Oh, wait, it's Monday. I meant today."

There were multiple "ooo"s from around the lunchroom. Flash was beat red and had no response, not having expected a retaliation from the scariest girl in school. Michelle sat back down, looking at Peter and Ned's awed expressions with a blank face. "What?"

"You're- that was- you're-" Ned stuttered, a large grin spreading over his face. "Dude. Dude! Why couldn't you have told me you were going to do that?! I would have put it on YouTube!"

Michelle snorted, letting out a burst of rare laughter. Peter smiled at her. "Thank you," he said genuinely.

"Stop looking like I just stopped world hunger, Parker," Michelle muttered, turning a little pink. "That wasn't just for you."

Peter smiled wider. "But it was a little bit for me. I'll count that as a win."

She huffed, but she didn't argue, so Peter took his win.

v.

"Hey, Michelle," Ned whispered, leaning across Peter as they sat together in the library so that no one would overhear them. "You wanna come over to Peter's tonight? He promised to show me the new Spider-Man suit."

Peter looked embarrassed. "Dude!" he whispered, elbowing Ned in the ribs. "Way to go inviting her without my permission. Not," he hastily added, "that I don't want you there, of course, MJ."

"Except that you don't," Michelle agreed. "I get it."

Peter shifted uncomfortably, feeling exclusive but not disagreeing. Ned shook his head. "C'mon, Pete," he groaned. "It'd be fun! We've never had MJ over before. We could watch a movie and she could help us with homework and-"

"Okay, Ned, then invite her over to your house!" Peter cried. He shook his head. "I don't even know if Aunt May would let me have a girl in my room. I've never asked."

That night, Ned was sprawled out on top of Peter's bed. "I wanna see it!" he called to Peter, who was changing in his closet.

"Okay, ready?" Peter asked, his voice mumbled by his hanging clothes.

"Yeah!"

Peter leapt out of the closet in a shiny, spandex, red, blue and black Spider-Man suit. Ned's eyes lit up and he clapped gleefully. "Dude! It's awesome!"

"I know, right?" Peter agreed excitedly. "Well, see, I grew since Mr. Stark made the first suit, and so he had to make me a larger one. And he figured that since he was already making a new one he might as well add all these cool things."

"It looks so sleek," Ned murmured, awed. "Like-"

There was a knock at the door. Peter sighed. "Come in!"

But it wasn't Aunt May who opened the door.

It was Michelle.

"MJ!" Peter blinked, surprised. "Uh... what are you doing here?"

"Ned invited me, loser," Michelle shrugged. She caught her first good look at him and raised her eyebrows, looking him up and down. Any other girl, and Peter would have thought she was checking him out. But this was Michelle. She was just looking.

"Nice suit," Michelle complimented finally.

A grin broke over Peter's face. "You like it?"

"Yeah," she shrugged. "Cute."

Peter and Ned exchanged glances. Peter was blushing but Ned was shaking his head. "Some people," he bemoaned. "Will just never understand the true beauty of cutting new edge technology." He let out a long sigh. "I guess calling it cute will have to do."

Michelle smirked, her next words making Peter turn even redder:

"Who said I was talking about the suit?"

vi.

Peter didn't like coming home after patrol with injuries. It freaked Aunt May out, and every time she saw a new bruise or cut or broken bone he worried that she would put her foot down and refuse to let him continue being Spider-Man.

Usually, when he was too hurt to put on a facade or he needed medical help from someone else, he would crash at Ned's. Ned had gotten rather used to Peter crawling through his window trailing blood, and had taken to keeping a fully stocked first aid kit under his bed.

Unfortunately, tonight Ned and his family were out of town. Peter was in one of those trailing blood and needing medical assistance states, and unsure where else he could go, he went to Michelle's house.

He and Ned had been over twice before. After the night that Michelle had just showed up at Peter's house, they had begun inviting her to movie nights and study sessions. The boys liked hanging out with Michelle. They just liked Michelle in general.

Still, Peter was a little nervous. He had never come to her for help before. Some people might not take as well to a boy in spandex crawling through their window in need of medical attention as Ned had the first time Peter had come to him.

Michelle was already in her pajamas (a pair of shorts and a giant shirt with some obscure rock band name on it), and she was curled up in the chair in the corner of her room, deep in a book. She jumped when the window opened, her eyes wide with fear before she realized that it was Peter.

"You could have at least texted," she deadpanned as Peter shoved himself through the window and collapsed onto the floor.

"Sorry," Peter winced, pressing his hand to his side and trying desperately not to get blood on Michelle's carpet. He didn't have this problem in Ned's room, which was mostly scratched wood floors covered with dirty laundry and stray books.

Michelle got to her feet, squinting at him. "Are you bleeding or did you spill paint on yourself? Because I'm probably worse with home remedies for stains than you are."

Peter snorted with laughter, wincing as he did so. "I- yeah. So, there was this whole mugging thing in an alley, pretty boring, but the guy got his knife into me. It's not too bad... I don't think?"

Michelle sighed. "Why, exactly, are you here?"

Peter frowned, having thought that was obvious. "I, um... I need help? And Ned's not home this weekend. I don't need anything major, just a place to clean up a little."

Michelle nodded. "Wait here a second." She walked out of the room and left Peter waiting awkwardly on her floor. Figuring there wasn't much else to do, Peter released the suction for the top of his suit and let it slip down around his shoulders. The fabric stuck a little when it passed his abdomen and Peter winced at the slimy looking red blood coating his skin.

Michelle came back in. She was carrying a large square of gauze, medical tape, cotton balls, and disinfectant. She also had a sandwich.

"Here," Michelle said, passing him the sandwich.

Peter looked at it in confusion. "What's this for?"

"It's to staunch the blood," Michelle told him, straight-faced.

He gave her a confused look.

"I was kidding, Peter," Michelle sighed, kneeling next to him. "It's a sandwich. You eat it."

He was still looking blank.

"Ned told me you have high metabolism," Michelle elaborated. "I figured you might be hungry. You are apparently so hungry that you've started eating your own brain cells. Or are you always this dense?"

Peter looked surprised. "Oh. Thanks!" He took a large bite, chewing happily on the sandwich. "This is really good," he mumbled around the bread, cheese and meat.

"My sandwich making skills are beyond compare," Michelle smirked, starting to clean up Peter's injury.

She worked a lot faster than Ned, and gauze was taped on Peter's stomach in only ten minutes. Peter had since finished his sandwich, but Michelle didn't ask him any questions as she worked.

"You're done already?" Peter asked, surprised. "That was quick."

Michelle shrugged. "I can imagine that Ned spends too must time asking you what happened, who you saved, and how much butt you kicked to really focus on patching you up."

"Yeah," Peter admitted, laughing a little. He got to his feet and stretched, suit hanging around his waist.

Michelle gave him a rare smile. "Next time you decide to swing by, feel free to do it when you're not covered in blood."

Peter laughed awkwardly, half-registering that she was inviting him over when he didn't need help. Which meant she was inviting him over when he wanted to come over.

Michelle raised her eyebrow. "You going to leave? Sorry, I felt like that last comment was a pretty good conversation end."

"Oh, right!" Peter stepped toward the window, pulling his suit back over his shoulders and tugging on his mask. "Thanks, Michelle, for the help." He grinned. "And the sandwich."

vii.

The anniversary of Uncle Ben's death was always a tough day. This year it was on a Thursday, the same day Peter had an important exam in his worst subject and the lunch room served a dish with the one food Peter was allergic to- avocado. So by the end of the day he was miserable, stressed, and hadn't eating anything but a salad.

Ned was always extremely sympathetic. Uncle Ben's death date was a reminder on his phone, and he made sure to show up with Peter's favorite Starbucks coffee and a big hug every year. This year, however, Ned came down with a terrible stomach bug and was completely unable to get to school. He FaceTimed Peter that morning, almost in tears.

"I'm so sorry, man," Ned murmured, shoulders slumped. "I know how tough this day is for you and if I wasn't puking, like, every ten minutes, I would be there."

"Hey, don't worry about it," Peter told him firmly. "I really hope you feel better."

After school, Peter walked out to the bus. As he stood with a few other kids who had already gotten out of school and weren't hanging out with their friends around the front steps, the sky opened up and it began to pour.

Kids around him shrieked and began to rush back toward school. Peter just sighed, rain soaking into his shoulders and backpack. It always rained on Uncle Ben's death date. It was like clockwork.

An arm wrapped around Peter's shoulders. The familiar smell of Michelle's shampoo kept Peter from pulling away as another arm turned him a little ways around and he was bundled into a hug.

Peter was honestly surprised. Michelle wasn't one for touching. She didn't even do high-fives, fist bumps, or hand shakes. And here she was, arms wrapped around him, getting soaked by the rain.

"Ned told me," Michelle whispered.

Peter nodded, hands grasping the fabric of her green sweater. "I don't want you to get wet," he mumbled, though he didn't want her to leave, either.

"As much as people might think it, I'm not the Witch of the West," Michelle told him dryly. "I'm not going to melt."

Peter huffed out a laugh, then blinked. It was possibly the only time he had ever laughed on the anniversary of his uncle's death. He opened his mouth to say something, to thank her or tell her tell her how much this meant to him, but at that moment the school bus rolled up.

Michelle let go and stepped back, tilting her head as she looked at him. "If you and your Aunt want to come over tonight I'm sure my parents wouldn't mind," she invited, shrugging. "We could have dinner and watch a movie. Sometimes the easiest way to get through what you've lost is to surround yourself with what you have."

Tears pricked at Peter's eyes and he took a deep, shaky breath, struggling to keep his composure. "Okay," he whispered. "I'll ask her."

She sat with him on the bus ride home.

viii.

Peter and Ned were standing by their lockers when Ned's jaw hit the floor.

"Dude, what's up?" Peter asked, laughing a little and turning around to follow his best friend's gaze.

Then his mouth joined Ned's and both of them gaped at one of the most beautiful and oddest sights Peter had ever seen.

It was Michelle. It took Peter a second to realize it but it was Michelle. Same sarcastic expression, same intelligent, condescending gaze. But she looked completely different. Her hair, normally messy and curly, had, by some miracle, been straightened. She was wearing skinny jeans and a nice purple top, and jewelry. Actual jewelry, comprising of a silver necklace and matching earrings and bracelet.

People were actually turning to look. Usually, when someone has a complete makeover, normal humans don't notice but heads were turning and Michelle was smirking.

Peter swallowed and shut his mouth. "Hi," he said, voice squeaking embarrassingly. "You look... you look..."

Michelle raised her eyebrows, waiting for his answer and not helping him out at all as she placed her hands (nails painted) on her hips.

"Gorgeous," Peter finished in a rush. "You look gorgeous."

If Michelle had been expecting anything, it wasn't that. Her eyes blew wide for a moment and her cheeks turned pink before she regained control of her emotions. She nodded. "Interesting."

"Interesting?" Ned echoed, confused. "MJ, what happened to you? Am I dreaming? Are you even MJ?"

"Yes, idiot, I'm still MJ," Michelle groaned, rolling her eyes. "It's a social experiment. I'm gaging people's reactions off of a change in physical appearance." She shrugged. "Extra credit for psychology class."

Peter suddenly felt a bit ashamed. He hurried to explain himself, looking at her imploringly. "Hey, so, when I said you looked gorgeous... I didn't mean just because you, like, changed your appearance and stuff. I think you always look gorgeous. You don't even really look like you right now and honestly I like the old MJ better. Not just because she's prettier. I just... yeah."

Ned began to slowly back up. "I'm gonna head to class," he told them in a loud stage-whisper.

They ignored him, and Peter saw Michelle look shy for the first time in his life. Neither of them really knew what to say.

"I, um..." Michelle started, struggling to regain her usual sense of bravado and stoicalness. "I guess I won't straighten my hair tomorrow."

Peter laughed, and they both let out sighs of relief as the tension released.

They walked off toward Homeroom, and if Peter sent vicious glares at the few boys who dared whistle or stare at places where their eyes didn't belong, Michelle wasn't going to judge.

ix.

Peter had managed to avoid meeting Michelle's parents. He wasn't exactly sure how, he and Ned had gone over to Michelle's a few times (though the three of them usually went to Peter's), and Michelle had met May at least two dozen times before.

But here he was, sweating through his shirt as Michelle led him inside the traditional way (as in through a door and not a window like how he entered when he needed patching up after patrolling) to meet her mom and dad.

She looked like her dad. She actually looked a lot like her dad, and judging from the careful look Peter was given, she got most of her personality from him.

Michelle tucked her hands into her pockets, gazing at the three of them like she didn't particularly care how this meeting was going to go. "Mom, Dad, this is my boyfriend Peter."

It took Peter a full twelve seconds (thankfully after he had shaken Mr. and Mrs. Jones' hands), to realize what she had said. Michelle watched him with a smirk on her face as he choked on his own spit and began coughing uncontrollably.

"My goodness, are you alright?" Mrs. Jones asked, looking a bit unnerved.

"Yeah," Peter panted, clearing his throat a few times and looking at Michelle with a completely floored expression. "Just, uh, yeah. I'm good."

Michelle snickered, grabbing Peter's arm and dragging him toward her room so they could get away from her mom's parental smiles and her dad's penetrating gaze.

"Swallow much?" Michelle teased once she shut the door.

Peter turned red. "Uh, I blame you."

"Now, why on Earth would you blame me?" Michelle asked, the picture of smirking innocence.

Peter blushed even more. "Well, you know, um... I just didn't realize... I didn't think we were boyfriend and girlfriend yet. I mean, like, dating. I didn't think we were dating. Officially. Or unofficially."

Michelle gave him a searching look. "Aren't we, though?" she asked cryptically.

That was the end of that discussion.

x.

It wasn't long before Peter found the opportunity to save Michelle as Spider-Man.

She had known his secret for six months, and they had been dating for nearly three weeks, but had yet to see him full bad-guy fighting action in person. Peter, of course, much preferred that to the alternative, which included her being at the scene of the fight with the possibility of getting hurt.

Still, it was nice to show off every once and awhile. Peter knew that Michelle was more taken with his brains and kindness than his ability to punch people but it couldn't hurt to wow her in both areas, right?

The opportunity came when he was walking her home from a dinner date downtown. He had to rush off briefly to stop a robbery, and when he got back to Michelle's side (above her, really, because he was on a roof, still dressed as Spider-Man), he found her locked in a tussle with a man at least twice her size.

Furious, Peter leapt off of the roof and straight onto the man's back. "I'd say pick on someone your own size," he quipped. "But it might not end so well for you. So you'll just have to deal with me!"

The man was now lying flat on the street, the wind knocked out of him. He recovered himself in a second, however and flung Peter off. Peter shot a web up to a building ledge and swung higher, coming in for a kick.

The man didn't really stand a chance against Spider-Man. In only a couple of minutes he was unconscious and stuck to the wall of a building with spider webs.

Michelle watched the whole episode, not seeming particularly shaken considering she had just been jumped. Peter landed in front of her, panting a little and feel quite proud of himself. "You okay?" he asked, her well-being being his number one priority.

"Fine," Michelle assured him. "You're my hero," she added sarcastically, and Peter laughed.

Then she reached forward, carefully rolled up the bottom of his mask so that his mouth and nose were showing, and kissed him.

It seemed that Michelle Jones was just going to keep on surprising him.

Author's Note: I've never done those roman numeral things to break up sections. It looks kinda neat :D

So, honestly, this was a pretty loose "ten times" kind of thing... because sometimes Peter was surprised multiple times per chapter XD But let me know what you thought! I like this one a lot better than my first attempt at Spideychelle. :)