Spider-Pet Pt. 03

Peter looked at René's slouched back. Either this was an innocuous signature or a seed for intentional malfunction. The results of this test could provide some insight on it. Or he could just ask...

"Hey, René."

The researcher sighed and didn't look his way. "What?"

"This uh...m113 tag in your code, what is it? I can't really find a reference to it in any of your comments."

"Because it's in the central documentation for the whole project."

Peter blinked. "And I'm supposed to know that how?"

Another sigh. René spun his chair around to face Peter. "If you look at the first instance of m113, you'll find a footnote that links you to the appropriate file."

"Aren't you supposed to define each function in each file, so we don't have to refer to anything external?" Peter shrugged. "At least, that's the way I was taught."

He rolled his eyes and spun back around. "It's redundant, wastes time."

Peter barely restrained himself from immediately going on a tirade. Otto had thought the same way. It had been one of his biggest pet peeves working with him.

"Could you explain m113?"

"I could, or you could just follow the link and read it yourself."

Peter stared at his back and actively fought back his temper as Erina gave him a sympathetic smile. He shook his head and sighed, pulling up the link.

When he finally read it all, he had to go through it again. René was irritable and obtuse, but brilliant. He'd created a predictive algorithm to narrow the margins of input error using a rudimentary AI: Marceline, iteration 113--m113. He'd engraved it in the source code throughout all his work, every project he'd been assigned to, so that a simple call command within any line of code would be enough to get the AI's input. It was a brilliant way to cut down on a whole lot of trial and error when it came to finding acceptable margins for sensory input.

Peter would compliment him on it if he wasn't being such an ass.

The problem was its ramifications for the IFF. If m113 was meant to refine sensory input for the gun's virtual safety pin, a tweak here or there could be enough to trigger a hidden spike--like an "accidental" discharge. And it would never come up as an error in diagnostics because René had hard-written it into the source code, so as to not "waste time."

Peter frowned and eyed the researcher. It wasn't conclusive proof, but it was a possibility. The sensor test on his hardware tweak would give them more definitive evidence.

"How's it looking on your end?" Erina asked René.

"Fine. Five percent latency, nothing we didn't expect. And the only lag is to the speed, not location of input."

"Which should be fine," Peter said, "since we're dealing with a stationary function."

René nodded and hummed. "Fine manipulators are functioning well within acceptable parameters."

"Time for a practical test?"

His head shook. "We still need to stress test the VR interface with one of our welders, make it more intuitive. Erina?"

Her head shook. "We're still days away from a practical test at least. I think for now we pack up and head back."

Peter nodded. "Sounds good. Was gettin' hungry anyway."

Erina chuckled. René started packing up while the others did the same. Commander Hartzik escorted them back to the castle in a separate car at their rear. Peter frowned. Had something happened since they left to make Silver concerned about danger in the city?

He kept his eyes peeled the whole ride back.

When they arrived at the castle without incident, Peter heaved a sigh of relief and hurried to get his equipment back to the lab so he could eat in peace. It was already almost quitting time. Quiet steps alerted him to a new arrival. He turned to see Silver walking toward the team and frowned. Not at her, per se--at what she was wearing.

Silver was clad in her tactical uniform and wearing her pistols.

"Did something happen?" Peter asked.

She blinked and met his eyes. "No."

"Not yet" was the message he was getting.

Silver jerked her head toward the exit. Peter followed. Two security personnel escorted them to their usual elevator--which went down this time. As soon as they were alone, Peter turned to her.

"What's wrong?"

Her lips were pressed into a thin line. "The castle's perimeter sensor web was compromised for thirty seconds while you were out. Someone looped the data just long enough for us to recognize it. In that time, they could've smuggled in anything--or anyone."

The doors slid open into a near-pitch-dark chamber with red lights running along the ceiling.

"What are we doing about it?" Peter asked as he followed her out.

"Providing you an alibi."

Peter frowned in confusion.

Silver snapped her fingers, and the lights came on to reveal a massive fabrication lab at least twenty meters on one side.

"This is..." Peter's eyes went double-wide as his voice trailed off.

"My inner sanctum, where the most dangerous projects are toiled away on in secret. Only a handful of my most trusted confidants are even aware of its existence."

"So, not René and Erina."

Her head shook as she led him to a fabrication station. "Besides one other, I am the only scientist authorized to work these machines."

Peter's brows knitted. "Who's the other?"

The station computer pulsed with a flicker of white light from a strobe just above the monitor. Peter glanced at it to see a microcam. A moment later, the monitor turned on and the machine whirred to life.

Huh. Face-activated.

Then he realized--Silver hadn't been standing in front of it.

Peter blinked slowly. "It's me."

A warm weight sank to the pit of his stomach as he considered the ramifications of that.

"There have been too many incidents to discount the possibility of a major attack within the near future," Silver said. "If these insurgents strike from within, we must be ready. That includes you, Spider."

He shrugged. "I do have my suit upstairs."

Her head shook. "If the Spider-Man of New York shows himself here, it will take my staff very little time to tie him to you, the foreign newcomer from New York."

Peter chuckled and arched an eyebrow. "So, what, you want to design a Spider-Man for Symkaria?"

She smirked. "Precisely." She scooted back to sit on a table. "I was so 'inspired' by my trip to America that I decided to endow one of my best with similar abilities using the tech found here." Silver's lips pursed. "But I need your genius to make it work. No one but the original would know how to make it better."

Peter hummed and frowned. "That won't help much if someone figures out we're never in the same place at the same time."

"That is where your double comes in."

His eyebrows skyrocketed. "My what?"

She leaned over and tapped the interface of another computer. "You remember the Chameleon?"

Peter scoffed. "How could I forget? Junior year, worst stint of anti-Spidey policing in history because he masqueraded as me."

"Well, as part of my contract with Oscorp, I was given access to their data on the Chameleon's mask."

Peter leaned in toward the monitor. "No way. You reverse-engineered it?"

"To an extent. It isn't quite as perfect as the original, but passable enough at a distance, or for anyone who doesn't know you as..." she smirked, "intimately as I do."

Peter felt a nagging heaviness in his chest at the reminder. "Silver...about earlier--"

"This first," she said sharply. "We need you battle-ready."

He sighed as she stood up and walked to another section of the room. Peter took a moment to guess at what she might be working on before powering up his fabricator unit and getting to work on initial schematics. For a moment, he considered trying to create an external partition of the machine's drives to keep his tech out of Sable's records. Not that he didn't trust her, but his tech wasn't for duplicating and considering the lack of security she'd been experiencing lately...

Peter sighed hard. She'd entrusted the fixing of that to him and the circle of people who even knew about this place could probably be counted on one hand. Which now included him.

Aunt May always used to say, "You gotta give a little trust to get it."

So he ignored the partition and set about creating the schematics for the fabricator. An hour later, he had a base design for the suit, just had to finish the look. Silver had ambled over to check on him from time to time but said little. He really had to fix this awkward silence. So he decided to start small.

"Okay! So, need your input."

Silver slowly moved to join him at the station.

Peter waved at the screen. "Take a look."

She hummed and turned the schematic over for inspection. "Impressive. I've never seen the inner workings of your suit laid out like this."

"And nobody besides you ever should." Peter frowned. "I hope this goes without saying, but none of these designs can ever leave this machine."

She nodded. "Of course." Silver fell silent for a while, making a note here and there. "Seems complete to me. What do you need from my end?"

He smiled. "Well, since this is supposedly one of your guys, you should probably have the final say on branding."

Her icy blues widened a bit as a smile touched her lips. "Good point."

Silver's hands danced across the interface as bit by bit, a rudimentary design fell into place. Peter made the occasional stylistic tweak here and there, but she remained the primary creative input. The end result was...admittedly not his usual style. But then, that was the whole point.

Primarily matte-black, carbon polymer, with red eyes and a large, white spider whose legs were split into segments across the chestpiece. This design had no webbing pattern, opting for something much lower profile. Shoulder and knee pads with a hexagonal pattern provided extra joint reinforcement, while plated knuckles gave his hands a little padding, and a slim belt would be there for extra web cartridges and other gadgets.

"What do you think?" Silver asked.

Peter let out a long breath. "I think you just invented the 'paramilitary Spidey' aesthetic."

Silver smirked. "I also added something from my own suit to the belt: prototype active camouflage."

His eyebrows shot up.

"It won't last very long, and the heat it gives off will light you up on thermal, but if you need to get past prying eyes for a few seconds, it'll get the job done."

"Damn," he exhaled. "You didn't have to."

"Never turn down an edge if you can get it." Silver saved the design and stepped back. "That motto is how I've stayed alive."

Peter smiled. "Thank you, Silver."

She gave him a curt nod and turned away. "You can go ahead and print it when you're done."

He caught her arm. "Silver."

Her eyes shut and lips pursed.

"Can we talk? Please?"

She sighed and crossed her arms.

"Just--gimme a second."

Peter did one last spot-check, then turned on the fabricator so the 3D printer could go to work. Then they faced each other, and the room was silent save the whirring of the machine.

Peter decided to break the silence. "I'm sorry about last night." He frowned deeply. "Ever since my uncle died, I tend to immediately jump to the worst-case scenario. And I try to limit that to the field, but...after I've spent so much time as Spider-Man, it kinda became part of me, you know? I overthink and I panic and jump to conclusions." He huffed and ran a hand through his hair. "That's...one of the big reasons MJ broke up with me. Too scared to risk putting her in harm's way just by being around me."

Silver just silently held his gaze.

Peter swallowed and pressed on. "And I know you can handle yourself, so that's not really a concern--"

"But your mind needs a worst-case scenario, so you find something to make you doubt."

Peter pressed his lips into a thin line. Hearing it out loud like that stung a lot more than he'd expected.

"Yeah," he sighed.

Admitting it hurt worse.

Silver sighed and sat on a table. "All right. For the sake of argument, let's play this out. Say we agree to go our separate ways after this, let it all fade into memory as a one-time fling."

Peter frowned at her phrasing.

"What do you have waiting back home?"

That...was a really good question.

Silver shrugged. "Is there anyone else who you think would understand you as I do?" She laughed without humor. "And I do not single you out in this. I asked myself that same question when I considered offering you this job."

Peter blinked. "What'd you figure out?"

Her lips pursed. "That I did not know you well enough to decide either way. But there was a reason you came to me that night...and a reason I convinced you to stay. The longer I know you, the more I am convinced I made the right decision." She frowned crookedly. "And the more I am certain we would both be hard-pressed to find a match more suitable. As I said, I want you by my side until I know for certain. But whether I have that chance is your choice to make. I just want you to be certain you are making that choice for the right reasons."

Peter nodded slowly and fell silent for a while. "Silver, I don't know if this is going to work out. I want to try, I just..."

"Yes?"

His eyes shut. "The truth is, I think I'm afraid I'd just be in the way. No matter how...lonely it is, I don't want to be the guy who holds you back if you do find that match closer to home."

Silver rolled her eyes and looked about ready to smack him. "That's what you're worried about?"

"Took me all night and day to figure out what my anxiety was trying to tell me but," he shrugged, "yeah, I think it all boils down to that."

She glared at him and pushed off the table to whap him in the chest with the back of her hand.

He blinked at her. "Ow."

"Shush." Silver embraced him and buried her face in his shoulder. "You deserve worse for being so boneheaded."

Peter chuckled and hugged her closer. "Oh, I'm sure you'll find a way to take it out of me somehow."

They stood there holding each other for a long time.

"You know," she said softly, "we've been considering opening a permanent regional headquarters for Sable International in New York."

"Yeah?"

She nodded into his chest. "Our technology and experience facing extranormal threats makes us ideal contractors for SHIELD and American agencies."

Peter hummed and rubbed her back, letting his eyes rest as he tucked her head under his chin. He stamped down on the flicker of hope in his chest.

"You know there are gonna be a lot of eyes on you," he said.

"As always. I am a head of state."

"Yeah. So why's a head of state dating a nobody scientist from Queens?"

Silver poked his chest and glared up at him. "You're overthinking again."

Peter sighed. "I know, I know."

"The better question is: who cares?"

He chuckled. "Yeah."

They fell silent again.

"Silver?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you for being patient with me."

She chuckled softly.

"I mean it. It says a lot that you gave me a chance to work it out. It's...a lot more than I've gotten in the past."

Silver poked him again. "You would do well to stop comparing me."

"I know," he sighed. "I guess I'm just not used to a partner who's not all or nothing."

She scoffed. "Please. Partnership without compromise is for children. I am a woman."

Peter held her shoulders and looked down at her. "Yes you are."

Silver met his eyes and smiled. She leaned up and kissed him softly. Peter kissed back, eyes slipping shut as he wrapped his arms around her. Their bodies pressed together. Her tongue slipped out to flick his lips. Peter gladly let her in, sighing into her mouth. Silver cupped his face and wove her fingers through his hair. Her grip tightened just a little, enough to make him pull back a bit.

Then she growled, "Mine," against his lips and pushed him back.

Peter let her guide him to a nearby table and fell backward, looking up at her straddling his hips. Silver pinned him to the table and kissed all over his face. Her hair bobbed and tickled his skin with every motion. Peter traced his hands up over her sides, admiring the way her tactical suit clung to her body. She started undoing the buttons of his shirt while he traced spirals into her back. He inhaled sharply when she bit down on his shoulder hard enough to leave a mark.

Silver raked her teeth across his skin, slowly pulling away as Peter tried to figure out whether he should be aroused or concerned. The tightness in his pants seemed to answer for him. Her animalistic growl as she grinded on him let him know she'd noticed. Silver left him one last nip right above his nipple, then pulled back and stared down at him.

"Get me out of this thing," she panted.

His eyebrows shot up. "Here? Really?"

She gripped his chin tightly. "I don't start what I can't finish."

"But I mean, the lab--"

She pinched and pulled his nipples.

"Ooookay..."

Peter went for the zipper on her top, gradually pulling it down and trailing the fingers of his other hand down her bare skin as it was revealed. He noticed a clip on the front of her bra and messed with it a bit before it came loose.

"Front-opening?" he asked. He grinned up at her. "Were you planning this the whole time?"

Silver sighed and rolled her eyes. "Not at all. I just have a great deal of easy-access lingerie."

Peter chuckled. "Lucky me."

Then leaned up and pushed the lapels of her suit aside to suck on her nipples.

Silver smacked his chest. "I said off. I didn't give you permission to--unh!"

A particularly hard suck was punctuated by a small bite of her nipple. Without taking her out of his mouth, he smiled and said, "Make me."

Silver stared at him for all of a second, then twisted his nipples harshly. Peter still wouldn't concede, lapping and suckling on her while he massaged her other breast. She pulled and pinched and ground her hips back and forth. It only served to further inflame his ardor. Peter sucked her other nipple between his teeth and gently raked them over the nub. Silver moaned and forcefully cut it off trying to keep composure.

"You--are being a very bad pet," she panted.

She dug her nails into his chest and raked them down his skin, leaving bright red marks in their wake.

Peter let up just enough to speak. "I'm not wearing a collar."

A wicked idea occurred, and he took a moment to adjust his web shooters while rolling her nipple between his tongue and the roof of his mouth. Then he reached up with one hand and shot webbing at the side of her neck. Silver gasped at the soft impact and reached up, eyes wide.

Peter grinned up at her. "But you are."

In a single fluid motion, his spider-strength hoisted her off his hips and into the air. Her reaching hand had stuck to the web collar despite her attempts to wrench it loose. With a devious smirk, Peter pushed her other hand to it and webbed them both in place.

Silver's eyes widened. "Oh you little--"

Then he webbed her mouth shut and gave her a small peck over the makeshift gag.

"You're cute when you're flustered," he said with a shit-eating grin.

Then he set about suspending her from the ceiling yet again. In less than a minute, Silver was hanging completely helpless. Her legs were spread wide, anchored to the ceiling by her bent knees while strands around her waist and hips served to take most of her weight. A thick sheet of layered webbing was tied around her eyes, robbing her of sight as well as speech. Only her hearing and touch remained as he left her suspended.

Peter chuckled and twanged one of the supporting strands with a finger, sending her spinning slowly. Silver groaned her frustration through the gag, especially since he hadn't bothered undressing her before trussing her up. Peter got the distinct feeling she would be very irritated with him if he destroyed this suit, given what she'd said about its experimental functions. That was okay. He didn't need to tear it off to get what he wanted.