16423/Mind Over Manuscript

Mind Over Manuscript
Date of Scene:	10 July 2024
Location:	Gwen Stacy's Apartment, Wavecrest Gardens
Synopsis:	Gwen's trying to find any excuse she can not to have to work on her doctoral thesis while Peter's being domestic. So... how about a new web-shooter design?!
Cast of Characters:	Ghost Spider, Spider-Man

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Ghost Spider has posed:
"Applications and Ethical Implications of Animal Cell Utilization in Advanced Biochemical Research"

The more Gwen stares at it on the screen of her laptop, the cursor slowly and tauntingly blinking at her on the screen, the more it seems like the worst title in the history of doctoral theses.

Her research, as Peter well knows, delves into the practical applications of these cells in creating regenerative therapies, enhancing drug delivery systems, and improving disease models for more accurate testing. She also rigorously examines the ethical considerations surrounding the use of animal cells, advocating for responsible practices that balance scientific progress with the welfare of living organisms.

It's all somewhat on the nose, given the nature of her powers (and even some of the dubious work done by Peter's friend, Dr. Curt Connors). But, that's exactly why she chose that particular topic. Her work aims to pave the way for advancements in biochemistry while fostering a dialogue on ethical standards in scientific research.

She's got a fair amount of it written. She's been working on it for about two years, off and on, but sometimes she sits down to write and just can't help staring at that cursor.

On that first page.

On that first line.

What an _awful_ title.

She'd been putting off working on it for this very reason. There were other things she needed to edit, but it was so hard to get past this first part.

Didn't changing the title change the very nature of the entire thesis? Does having a bad title mean the whole thesis is bad? Given the limited time she has to work on it, shouldn't she just give up on trying to write a thesis at all?

No. This is important. Ever since that meeting with Peter at Stark Tower, where the word 'we' was thrown around so casually in terms of starting up Parker Industries, _this_ has been in the back of her mind. Her doctorate. She'd look so much better on paper -- she'd be able to _contribute_ so much more to Peter's success -- if her name was Doctor Stacy... instead of being known as that model from that one advertisement for the really pretty coat.

So, she sits on the couch in pajama shorts and a tank-top with Spider-Man's face distorted over her chest, a pair of fuzzy red socks on her feet, and a laptop in her lap. She's cradling a cup of coffee in both hands as she stares at the screen.

What time is it?

Who knows. Gwen hasn't bothered to look, even though it's right there on the screen. She's too busy fretting over the title.

Spider-Man has posed:
Peter was standing on her ceiling, wielding the Cleaning Agent of Doom! and trying to scrub the footprints off her ceiling. It made them look like they were Lionel Richie fans or something and that just wasn't them. No disrespect intended to Mr Ritchie. But from his vantage point he got to look at Gwen's thesis name.

"Just animals, or did you do some discreet poking around at modified arachnids?" he asked with a grin, then sloppily kissed her forehead. Then he spotted more footprints by the kitchen - because of course there were, and he only took a moment to look down Gwen's Spidey-Tank before scurrying over there to clean off the footprints. "Man, you'd really like it if New York were a cleaner place to live. We track in all kinds of crap." he mused out loud as he, dressed in a wifebeater and sweats himself, attacked the cleaning chores with alacrity.

Ghost Spider has posed:
"Given yours and Cindy's experience, mine, and then Miles's, I think there are _enough_ people poking around with modified arachnids. But yes, arthropods are discussed thoroughly in the latter parts of the thesis on ethical implications," Gwen muses, tilting her head up to greet that familiar, upside down face.

She scrunches her nose cutely at the kiss of her forehead and, when Peter's eyes dip lower, she tries to use his momentary distraction to steal a _real_ kiss from him, but he's already off cleaning something else.

So, instead, she pouts a little, sighing and going back to looking at her thesis... which is what she was _supposed_ to be doing, instead of lusting after the man cleaning their ceiling.

She'd completely given up on thinking of the place as 'hers.' It hadn't been just 'hers' for a long time, and she didn't really want it to be, anyway. Besides, Peter's cleaning, and by New York code 340533.945 that makes it part his property, anyway.

Probably.

"Hey... you want a project that's more fun to work on?"

Because _she_ wants a project that's more fun to work on.

"I've been thinking about trying to miniaturize my web-shooters... somehow. You know how mine use water-vapor, so there's already no cartridges? I was thinking if I could make them look more like.. a fashion accessory, I could wear them around without having to carry them everywhere when I'm not in-costume."

Spider-Man has posed:
"Yeah, about that..." Peter said, still crawling on her ceiling. "Your water-vapor thing really helps with longevity, but I pity you if you have to try to rescue people from a burning building. Or go up against Johnny, or Pyro, or any one of about a dozen fire-based people we could name." he said. "Having said that - I think we could probably make them smaller. Gonna be a tradeoff in accuracy and, well, length." he said. "Won't be able to go as long or hit as precisely, but on the upside, you could wear them with civvies if you're into bracelets." he mused as he thought the problem over.

Then he flipped in midair as he dropped down to her floor like a normal person. "You know, making and carrying your own web-fluid is like a rite of passage for us spider-people." he pointed out.

Ghost Spider has posed:
"I'm not _webbing_ people through a burning building," Gwen counters as she closes the lid of her laptop, because _that_ response was _exactly_ the kind of excuse she was looking for to put her (obviously) less important thesis aside. They were talking about her fate and that of the people she was trying to help! She didn't need a stupid document about the ethics of using animal cells in research distracting her from that...

"And they've worked pretty okay for me so far!"

_Now_ who's sensitive about the thingies on her wrist? Oh, right. The whole Miguel exchange can't happen in this universe.

Leaning forward, she shifted the laptop to sit on the coffee table, but she still clutched her coffee, turning in her seat to face him.

"Oh, so now I'm not a real Spider-person?" she taunts, lips curling playfully. "Come on." She lifts a hand and kung-fu beckons him with him with her fingers. "Tell me how you really feel. Work alllllll that jealousy out."

Spider-Man has posed:
"I mean, it's great that it's working for you, I'm just saying that you might start hating life if someone who can suck all the water out of the air one way or the other and things could get ... toasty." he pointed out. "And come on. You're as real of a Spider-Person as Miles is. Or any of my brothers." he pointed out. He wasn't wearing his shooters, so despite how badly she was asking for it he couldn't web her right then. "But let's see what we can do..." he mused.

Ghost Spider has posed:
"Oh, but not _you_," Gwen clings to it like she would cling to a wall, setting her coffee down on the table and suddenly standing up -- on the couch -- so that she can be taller for a change. Then she's stalking across those cushions. And her prey is the First-Spider(tm) himself.

"You know, just because you're the _oldest_ Spider..."

She lets her voice trail off without finishing whatever she was going to say. Even in their playful banter, she couldn't actually bring herself to say something against Peter. Not only did she love him too much to smack-talk him (other than, yes, an occasional dig about his age), in some situations it might be close, but he was pretty definitively the best of them... even if Miles did have freaking Spider-camo and bio-electrokinesis. How come he got the cool EXTRA powers?

Then again, she was a PhD candidate / fashion model, so it's not like she could say she was passed over in the genes department entirely.

Suddenly she leaps at him, laughing brightly.

Spider-Man has posed:
Gwen was not a threat, so his Spidey-Sense didn't kick off at her leap. He was, however, experienced and knew Gwen fairly well. So when she leaped, he ducked in, scooped her around her torso, and rather than twist and slam her to the ground he gently placed her there with a laugh. "You do that too much, I might start getting ideas." he said with an arched-like-Spock eyebrow.

He was stupidly fond of that little trick. Took him months in the mirror to get it right.

"Oldest Spider, but not the bestest Spider. Well, occasionally the bestest Spider. Often the bestest Spider? Hrm." he said, then laughed and leaned down for a kiss.

Ghost Spider has posed:
Gwen squeals as she's twisted and deposited gently on her back, but she wasn't letting go of him, either. There in her eyes was all of that affection as well as the playfulness, the joy of having him here with here after they were separate for so long.

It was like she'd been holding her breath and she finally felt like she could breathe again. That arched eyebrow makes another round of laughter bubble up past her lips, but it's so obviously warm and affectionate. She _loved_ his quirky, nerdy sense of humor.

Also, maybe not every girl would react to having the Spock-moves put on her, but Gwen's a special case.

"Maybe I _want_ you to get ideas," she teases. And... not just because she was looking for _any_ excuse to not work on her thesis, and 'ideas' were _way_ better than editing and revising yet another draft.

She's smiling all the way into the kiss, her hand coming up to his cheek and then brushing back through his hair. She clings there for too long, holds on to him a few beats longer than was probably necessary in that moment. Just... just because she could. Just because she'd missed too many moments to do it before, and she'd learned her lesson the hard way.

Take them while you can get them.

And when that kiss finally does break and her eyes open again, she lets out a sigh of contentment.

"You'll always be the bestest to me," she promises.

Spider-Man has posed:
"You like my ideas?" he said quizzically. "ZOMG!" he smirked. "Buuuuutttt ... as much fun as that sounds like, you have Thesis Work to do. So I'll tell you what. Get five chapters written and edited, and then you can come to bed with me." he promised. "Do ten, and I'll be entirely at your mercy." he said, with a rippling of his torso over hers. "Deal?"

Ghost Spider has posed:
"Uggghhhhh... why are you this wayyyy?" Gwen whines, _still_ not letting go of him.

And still smiling.

"Why can't you be all single-mindedly focused on your own primitive needs even to the detriment of my -- and therefore our -- future together?"

She asked, lying there under hin in that Spider-Man tank top while he rippled her torso over her.. and suddenly her own primitive needs seemed a _lot_ more fun than ten chapters.

"How about I do one and then I'm entirely at _your_ mercy?"

She bites her lower lip, eyes twinkling with mischief.

Spider-Man has posed:
Peter pretended to contemplate this. "You need to do more than just _one_." he pointed out. "But your offer intrigues me and I wish to subscribe to your newsletter." he said with a grin. "Do ten, and you can be at my mercy. Do fifteen, and I'm _all_ yours. Whatever you want, however you want it." he taunted, looking into her eyes and promising a lot with just a look.

Ghost Spider has posed:
Gwen can't help laughing at that 'newsletter' line. It's such a pleasant, girlish sound -- young and free, like she doesn't have a care in the world in that moment.

At the counter offer, though, her mouth drops open.

"At TEN you were going to be at mine! And -- "

Something sinks in, and it stops her cold.

"Wait..."

She blinks twice up at him, one corner of her lips tugging into her best impression of malevolent supervillain (which, in all honesty, isn't that convincing).

"...anything?"

The question is made more obviously rhetorical, however, by the fact that she's already starting to scoot out from under him like she suddenly realized the couch was on fire.

"No take-backs. Off. Shoo. Move. I've got writing to do..."

And all that while, that blissfully happy twinkle remains in her eyes.