Michelle didn't enjoy grocery shopping, but she enjoyed it even less on Sunday mornings when she could otherwise be curled up with Peter. Even though he'd come home hours before the sun was supposed to rise and she knew she'd need to get up shortly after, she had waited up. When her alarm rang hours later, Peter didn't so much as stir.

Shopping on Sundays sucked, but it was more bearable in the mornings before all the rest of Cambridge woke up to restock their cabinets as well. On their turns, Ned and Peter often waited until an hour before the stores closed, but Michelle preferred getting the job over with then returning to her warm bed afterward.

The store was mostly empty which―in a town filled mainly with university students―wasn't surprising. It was hardly eight o'clock, but here Michelle was, walking through the produce section and searching desperately for oranges.

Muttering under her breath, Michelle reached for the mini mandarins instead of regular-sized oranges. Despite it being their second November in Cambridge, Michelle always forgot about the inevitable lack of oranges during the winter. The next time Stark came to visit Peter, she'd have to tell him to bring real oranges with him.

With the mandarins now in her cart, Michelle moved further into the store. She squinted at the list, wishing not for the first time that Peter and Ned had better handwriting. After so many years with both boys, she'd gotten better at reading it, but sometimes she wondered if they tried to make it worse just for shits and giggles.

Pulling her cart to the side, Michelle attempted to read what they had written. She was fairly certain it was something for making Peter's web fluid, but only three of the letters were legible.

"Fucking―" Michelle rolled her eyes and gave up. "He can get it himself."

She turned her cart around, briefly spotting someone duck into a nearby aisle, before heading off towards the cereal. They may be living on Stark's money, but they were still college kids and Fruit Loops were in high demand.

When Michelle turned to find the cash register, a familiar flash of black ducked out of sight yet again. She frowned and peered down the aisle, but there was only a man peering over the different types of jams.

"Weird," she muttered.

The checkout line moved quickly considering how few people were awake and shopping at that hour. Aside from the man in the jelly aisle and the elderly woman in front of her, the store was empty.

It was on her walk back home that Michelle felt eyes following her. Over the years of knowing Peter, she'd gotten used to recognizing the feeling, but it still made her skin crawl.

With her arms full of grocery bags, her phone was out of reach. She might not have cared, but when she rounded the corner and caught a glimpse of the man from the jelly aisle, she couldn't deny she was being followed.

She cursed. Even though the house was just a block ahead, she didn't want to risk Jelly Man learning where she lived. They may keep a bat by the front door and Peter may be a certified superhero, but she still didn't want to lead a strange man right to where she lived.

Unfortunately for Michelle, Jelly Man was not easy to lose. She turned down a side street before reaching their home and sped up her pace, but Jelly Man did the same. When she ducked down a street to take her back to the store, Jelly Man followed.

It didn't take long for Michelle's arms to begin to burn from all the bags she was carrying. She didn't dare stop and dig her phone out of her pocket, though, and Jelly Man was still uncomfortably close by.

In a last-ditch effort to lose him, she darted across someone's yard and through their backyard. She sprinted into the small yard and hurried into the backyard of her own home. She couldn't be certain Jelly Man hadn't seen or followed her, but she was inside before she could see him.

Flicking the lock on the garage door, Michelle dropped the grocery bags to the floor and leaned against the door. She closed her eyes and let her head thud softly against the door, panting from her short and sudden sprint through the neighborhood.

With a huff, Michelle lifted all the grocery bags from the floor and carried them into the kitchen. After depositing them loudly on the countertop, she made her way to the front door and flipped the lock. Poking her head in the window, she scanned the streets for Jelly Man. She craned her neck to see down the street, attempting to look into the neighbor's yard that she'd come running through, but someone grabbed her shoulder before she could see anything.

Michelle gasped, spinning around with her fist raised and ready to punch Jelly Man before she even laid eyes on him. Instead of connecting with Jelly Man's nose, however, her fist was caught by Peter.

"Hey, hey," he said softly, holding her fist. "It's just me, Em."

"Peter," she breathed, dropping her shoulders.

Peter let go of her fist as she relaxed and drew her into his arms, simultaneously pulling her out of view of the front window.

"I heard you locking the doors," Peter told her. "Are you okay?"

"Someone followed me home," she murmured, breathing in his familiar scent. "There was this guy at the store and he followed me back."

"Someone followed me after patrol last night too," Peter muttered. His arm around her tightened and he drew her away from the door. "If they're following you now too..."

He trailed off, but Michelle didn't need him to continue to understand his concern. They'd been careful and so far, they hadn't had anyone connect either of them to Spider-Man; especially not Michelle.

"It doesn't have to be related," Michelle said. Even she didn't believe it.

Stark had warned them both that someone would connect the dots sooner or later, but Michelle had kind of been hoping for "never". Having someone know she was Spider-Man's girlfriend could pose some real problems.

Peter sighed. "I need to call Tony."

Before he could slip away, Michelle caught his sleeve and pulled him back to her.

Pressing a short kiss to his lips, she said, "It could be nothing, Peter."

"It's not worth the risk," he said. He drew back and pressed a kiss to her head. "Let me call him and I'll help you put the groceries away." With a small smile, he added, "Even though you don't help me."

"Go call your Irondad," Michelle said, rolling her eyes and pushing him towards the stairs.

Stark and Peter were two paranoid little shits, but she'd learned pretty quickly that it was better to be safe than sorry. Besides, if Peter was going to help her put away the groceries, she'd let him tell Stark whatever he wanted.