True to her word, Pepper didn't utter a word about Beck or Stark Industries for the entire afternoon. Even after Morgan fell asleep on the couch, the conversation stayed focused around their engagement, and aside from the actual How It Happened story, Europe was not mentioned.

As the sun fell behind the New York skyline and night fell, Pepper pulled Morgan from the couch and began to make their excuses. Although not quite finished with her drawing, Michelle gave Morgan her new notebook and promised to finish it if the girl brought the notebook with her the next time she visited.

With her new notebook tucked under one arm and a bag of candy clutched in her other hand, Morgan sleepily followed her mom out of the apartment and waved goodbye to the neighbors. Muffling a laugh, Pepper guided her into the elevator and promised Peter that they'd talk in the morning.

It did not go unnoticed by Peter that Happy didn't leave with them. He knew well enough that Pepper drove herself often, but he also hadn't forgotten about his and May's not-relationship. May insisted it was nothing. Happy spent the night when they both thought Peter wouldn't notice.

"You should take some time off," May told him, looking at him worriedly as Pepper disappeared. "You don't need to dive back into work, you know."

"I want to, May," he said, but May didn't look reassured. "I can't just sit at home. Besides, MJ's got her interview for the New York Times this week and I'll just be in her way."

"You are fairly distracting," Michelle agreed with a hum. Peter frowned at her. "In a good way," she promised.

May still looked worried and, knowing that she was on the verge of convincing him otherwise, Peter spoke before she could.

"We gotta take care of this Beck guy," Peter reminded her. "Pepper will know what to do and with a little luck, it'll all be taken care of by this weekend."

This weekend: when Stark Industries promoted him to the head of the R&D department. It had taken months of paperwork and a lot of tearful nights before Pepper had officially signed him on as Tony's replacement, but the press conference had finally been scheduled.

"Can't you just―I don't know―" May sighed and ran a hand through her hair― "take a few days off?"

Peter shook his head. "We gotta get ahead of this, May. Beck got his hands on some dangerous tech. I gotta make sure no one else can access it."

Fury may be handling the fallout in Europe and Beck may be dead, but Stark tech didn't just disappear after things like this. Peter had learned as much after one too many missions gone wrong.

"Alright," May said, nodding in resignation. Turning to Michelle, she said, "Make sure he sleeps, alright? And eats, and doesn't―"

"May," Peter groaned.

"―stay out too late," May was still saying, ignoring Peter's weak attempt at protest.

"You know I will, May," Michelle assured her calmly. She slipped her hand into Peter's and gave him a small smile. "We're a team."

Peter had no control over the soft smile that spread across his face at that. Even despite the dread that filled him at the thought of digging into Tony's past squabbles, the cool metal around her finger made him giddy.

"Call me with any updates," May ordered, fixing Peter with a stern look. "If I have to hear it from Harold or Pepper, I'll be disappointed."

"Yes, ma'am," Peter promised. Pressing a kiss to May's cheek, he grabbed his suitcase and slipped his hand out of Michelle's to grab hers as well. "Hap?" he asked, looking at the man beside his aunt. "Give us a lift?"

With a roll of his eyes, Happy grabbed his keys and said an awkward goodbye to May. Michelle pulled the door closed behind them, letting Happy lead the way down to where he'd parked hours before.

Like the rest of their little family, Happy was all too familiar with the drive to Peter and Michelle's apartment in Manhattan. Near the Tower, but far from the tourist rush of Times Square, the little studio had been their home since their first year at Empire State University. Over the years, the thirty-minute drive―or one-hour subway ride―had become familiar enough that Peter could tell how far away they were down to the minute based on the passing restaurants.

The ride was silent and shortly after unloading their bags from the back of Happy's car, they parted ways. Without needing to ask, Peter knew Happy wouldn't be returning to the Tower for the night.

"Come on, tiger," Michelle said, a smile in her voice as she bumped her shoulder against his. "We've had a long day."

Peter pulled his eyes away from Happy's retreating car and followed her inside. The old elevator was just a little too cramped for both them and their suitcases, but thanks to a lack of security camera, that was easily remedied. With Peter sticking on a wall and hovering above his suitcase, Michelle pushed them all inside and pressed the half-erased '6' to take them up to their floor.

Tumbling out of the elevator, they arrived at their door in the dark and fumbled with the key. Only after Michelle dropped her key ring did Peter think to pull out his phone as a flashlight, muttering about broken light bulbs and safety hazards.

"Alright, Night Monkey," Michelle teased, finally getting the key in the door. She bumped the door open with her hip and gave him a teasing smile.

"That's over," he told her, waving a finger in the air. "No more Night Monkey, please. I can't believe Ned would even betray me like that."

Michelle laughed, leaving her suitcase somewhere on the floor between their kitchen and bookshelf that acted as a wall around their bed.

"For what it's worth," she murmured, snagging his hand in hers, "the black suit did look very good."

Irritation forgotten, Peter raised a curious eyebrow at her. Letting her pull him to her, he hummed.

"Really?" He pressed a kiss under her jaw. "Better than the Iron Spider suit?"

Michelle hummed. "Both are good."

As Peter pressed a longer kiss to her jaw, Michelle let go of his hand to wrap her arms up and around his shoulders.

"I wouldn't be upset if the black suit made a reappearance, though," she admitted.

"That can be arranged," Peter promised. He made no move to step away and before Michelle could tease him for it, he had lifted her up in his arms and deftly stepped around her abandoned suitcase. "Later, though," he breathed, returning his lips to her jaw. "I'm busy right now."

Michelle didn't complain.

It was the sun shining through their window that woke Michelle the following morning. Between the jetlag and Peter's mind on one thing only the evening before, they'd forgotten to close the curtains.

Peter was still warm beside her, his face tucked in the crook of her neck as he laid on his stomach. Unlike her, the sun didn't seem to be bothering him and he slept soundly even as she stretched underneath him.

With a contented groan, Michelle shifted and wrapped her one free arm around Peter's bare shoulders. Her other arm was trapped somewhere between Peter's chest and the mattress, her fingers just barely poking out enough that if she wanted to, she could tickle his side. She didn't. His body could use the extra sleep to heal.

He was still covered in scrapes and bruises. Even lying on his stomach, Michelle could make out what had once been a deep cut that stretched across his back. Although it was hardly more than a healing stretch of pink skin at this point, she couldn't stop the twisting in her stomach. His left shoulder was a sickly green color and if he'd been on his back, she knew she would see the signs of what had to be broken ribs: dark, black bruises that would take more than a handful of days to disappear.

With a soft sigh, Michelle pressed feather-light kisses across his shoulder and resisted the urge to trace the soft pink scar across his back.

It'll disappear, she told herself. They always did. Peter rarely stayed battered and bruised for more than a few weeks. Even these marks, as deep and painful as they probably were, would be gone by the end of the month.

As light as they had been, her kisses seemed to be just enough to draw Peter out of his sleep.

"MJ?" he moaned, burying his face deeper in her shoulder.

She hummed and, with her arm that wasn't trapped beneath him, threaded her fingers through the curls on the back of his head.

He mumbled something into her shoulder, his words muffled and unclear, but she got the gist of it.

Reaching for her phone on the nightstand, she turned on the screen to check the time and replied, "8:03 AM."

Peter responded with another groan and wrapped his arms tighter around her, pushing them both deeper into the ridiculous nest of blankets, pillows, and their mattress. Peter―she had quickly learned―did not thermoregulate very well which meant they had a mass of blankets covering their bed no matter what time of year it was.

"Don' leave," Peter muttered even though she made no motion to do so. Tipping his head to rest his chin on her shoulder, he said, "Le's jus' stay here."

Michelle smiled. "You know I'd love to do just that, tiger."

"But?" Peter frowned in anticipation and she didn't miss the way his arms seemed to lock around her, prepared to fight should she decide to leave the bed.

"But I have to get started on my interview," she reminded him, her trapped hand reaching up to tickle his side.

He shook his head, muttered "Not today", and yanked the duvet over both of their heads.

"Peter!" Michelle laughed as he covered her neck and jaw with kisses in what she assumed was an attempt to keep her in bed. "I need to prepare."

"You have all week!" he protested, keeping her trapped beneath him.

She tried to wriggle free, even tickled his side with a brush of her fingers, but he didn't budge. Not for the first time did she wish he didn't have superhuman strength. It certainly came in handy, but it wasn't always her favorite spidey-power. In instances like right now, for example, where she had no hope of throwing him off of her, his inhuman strength was more of a hindrance.

In a last-ditch effort to escape, she reminded him, "You need to talk to Pepper."

As expected, Peter groaned and deflated. His arms loosened around her and he tugged the duvet down, begrudgingly letting her out of his arms. The cool air of their apartment sent goosebumps across her bare skin as Peter burrowed down in the covers while she was left to fend for herself.

"Come on, grump," she teased, nudging the blanketed lump he'd turned into. "There's room enough in the shower for two."

The lump sat up and Peter's hopeful face poked out through a hole. As she stood and stepped towards their closeted bathroom, Peter scrambled out from under the blankets and darted after her. With a suddenly energetic whoop, he hoisted her into his arms and hurried them both into the bathroom where a much too hot shower awaited them both.