16611/Kitchen Therapy

Kitchen Therapy
Date of Scene:	09 November 2024
Location:	Al's Cornerstore, Clinton
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Spider-Man, Harley Quinn

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Spider-Man has posed:
Al's Cornerstore is the kind of place where the neon lights flicker intermittently, casting a dim, sickly glow over everything, its glass windows perpetually smudged with fingerprints, and the occasional faint hum of a refrigerator in the back. Outside, Hell's Kitchen is alive with the usual hum of traffic, the sporadic honking of cabs, and the chorus of street vendors peddling everything from hot dogs to knock-off designer bags. Inside, though, it's another world entirely.

Peter Parker steps through the heavy front door, the jingle of the bell above it doing little to stir any attention. He's not exactly in the neighborhood today, but he's passing through after a late swing and wardrobe change across the city, and a cold drink is just what he needs. The shop is surprisingly quiet. It's usually a little packed at this hour, especially with everyone on their way home from work, stopping in for a quick snack or a six-pack.

Behind the counter, Al is doing his usual routine, hands on the sides of his wheelchair, his eyes darting around like a hawk trying to find someone doing something suspicious. His grey beard glints in the light, and his glower is sharp enough to cut through steel. But when he sees Peter, his expression softens... barely.

Peter's eyes flicker over the aisles of old magazines, bags of chips, and a forgotten box of what looks like expired protein bars. He's in no rush, his spider-sense isn't tingling, so there's no immediate threat. That means it's a perfect moment for some low-key, non-heroic relaxation.

Harley Quinn has posed:
     The bell above the door jingles again, and in breezes Harley Quinn, looking like she just stepped out of a chaotic carnival and into Al's grimy little corner of the world. Her hair is tied up in its signature pigtails, with the ends dipped in faded pink and blue, and she?s decked out in a mishmash of colors, shorts, fishnets, and a graphic tee under a bright red jacket that screams "don?t mess with me."

     Harley?s eyes dart around, taking in the place, her expression a mix of amusement and curiosity. It?s the kind of joint that has "last resort snack stop" written all over it, and that makes her grin. She sidles up to the aisles, plucking a pack of neon sour gummies from the shelf and examining it like it's a rare gem. With an impish smile, she tosses it up in the air, catches it, and practically skips over to the fridge, where she grabs an energy drink without a second thought.

     Noticing Peter, she narrows her eyes, that grin widening as she recognizes him. She saunters over, snack in hand, her boots clacking loudly against the worn linoleum floor.

     " Well, lookie here" Petey Parker himself, takin? a break from swingin? around town, huh?" she teases, leaning her elbow on a shelf, her gaze sharp but playful. "You a gummy worms kinda guy, or more of a plain ol? chips dude?"

     Meanwhile, Al watches her every move with a wary look, clearly accustomed to the chaos she often brings with her. Harley just gives him a cheeky wink as she leans in a little closer to Peter, waiting for his response, her energy buzzing like the flickering lights above.

    

Spider-Man has posed:
Peter's hand freezes over the energy drink section of the fridge as the door jingles again. He looks up, expecting the usual late-night customer: maybe a tired office worker looking for a midnight snack or a delivery driver grabbing a quick drink before heading back out.

Instead, his gaze lands on the woman stepping inside.

Harley Quinn.

A rush of something hits him immediately, his spider-sense flaring like a thousand tiny needles jabbing into his neck. It's sharp and sudden, not the usual low hum he gets from everyday strangers, but a clear warning, like an instinctual alarm.

His first thought is to run. His second thought is to wonder why she's here, in this particular store, in the middle of Hell's Kitchen. Of all places.

She moves like a whirlwind, all energy and chaotic confidence, a clashing storm of colors and sound. Her boots tap against the linoleum floor in a rhythm that's too loud to ignore, and she moves with such certainty that it's like she owns the place. As if she's always belonged here.

Peter's hand tightens around the bottle, but he doesn't open it. He watches, slightly frozen, as Harley casually examines a pack of gummies. Her grin, that grin, makes him second-guess the way his heart's suddenly beating a little faster. He doesn't know why that unsettling energy is following her like a cloud.

She tosses the gummy pack into the air and catches it with a practiced ease, the same sort of carefree playfulness that screams trouble. His gaze drifts to her colorful jacket, her pigtails, the way she's somehow effortlessly drawing attention in a place as nondescript as Al's Cornerstore.

He thought to himself . o O ( Okay, I've seen weirder. )

Then her eyes catch his. The second she looks at him, the spider-sense ratchets up even more, sending a jolt of adrenaline down his spine. Crap.

It's not her per se, he doesn't even know who she is, but something about the way she looks at him feels way too familiar, way too sharp, like she's seeing something he doesn't want her to. There's a knowing edge to her gaze, even if it's still playful, a hint of something beneath the surface.

He though to himself . o O ( She's sizing me up. )

He stands there, awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to the other, trying not to look like he's panicking, but he can feel his pulse quickening. He's not used to being this off-balance, especially not in a low-key store like this.

She starts moving toward him, and for a split second, his first instinct is to zip out of here, out of the door and into the shadows. But he stays put, rooted by something he can't quite place. Okay. Stay cool. Just... stay cool, Pete.

And the longer Peter stands there, trying to keep his cool, the more certain he becomes that Harley Quinn knows something.

Maybe who he is.

The thought hits him like a punch to the gut. He can't let that happen. Not like this, especially not in the middle of some random corner store with a woman who clearly thrives on unpredictability and danger.

He rubs the back of his neck, forcing his smile to look a little more natural. "Uh... chips guy," he says, his voice coming out a little more high-pitched than he wants, as if trying to convince himself he's not worried. His hand shifts from the drink in his grasp to a bag of chips he can't even remember picking up.

Harley Quinn has posed:
     Harley?s grin widened as she watched Peter fumble with the chips, her eyes gleaming with that mischievous glint of someone who lived for reactions just like his. She tilted her head, her gaze sweeping him up and down, taking in the nervous energy radiating from him.

     "A chips guy, huh?? she drawled, taking a slow, deliberate step closer, still twirling the gummy pack in her hands. "Cute." She tossed the gummies back onto the shelf and let out a small laugh, her voice soft and teasing. ?Ya look like ya got somethin? on your mind. I mean, I got that effect on people. But usually, they at least say hi first.?

     Her voice was light, but her eyes were studying him, the way he shifted his weight, the way he clutched the bag of chips like it was a lifeline. It was almost adorable, the way he was trying to play it cool, but she could see right through him. And that made this even more fun.

     "Relax, Spidey,? she whispered, leaning in just enough so her voice was only loud enough for him. ?If I was here to start trouble, I wouldn?t be standin? around admirin? the snack aisle, now would I?? She gave him a quick wink, leaning back with an easy grin.

     "Tell ya what,? she continued, still flashing that grin as she reached out and snatched a bag of chips off the shelf for herself. ?Why don?t ya come hang with me outside? Grab yourself a cold drink, and I?ll show ya a good time." She chuckled, watching him with a mix of amusement and challenge, like she knew exactly how uncomfortable he was?and how much she loved it.
    

Spider-Man has posed:
Peter's spider-sense is firing on all cylinders as Harley steps closer, and he forces himself to take slow, deliberate breaths. His instincts are on edge, something about her is off, and he can't shake the feeling that she's toying with him. His hand tightens around the bag of chips like it's a shield, but his mind races. She knows. The nickname Spidey hits him like a punch, and the words 'relax, Spidey' echo in his head as his heart speeds up.

He tries to play it cool, giving her a stiff smile as he forces out a response. "You sure got that effect on people," he says, but even he hears the slight tremor in his voice. She's too close now, and every second she stands there, casually tossing things and watching him fidget, makes him feel more like a deer in headlights. His mind is spinning, trying to find an escape route, but the only thing he can think to do is continue this awkward dance.

As she challenges him to join her outside, her grin widening, Peter realizes he's caught in a game he doesn't understand. He tries to deflect, throwing out some weak excuse about 'saving the city,' but it sounds as ridiculous to him as it does to her. The words fall flat, and he knows it. She probably knows he's stalling, and her amusement only makes the situation worse.

Harley Quinn has posed:
     Harley?s eyes gleamed with that unmistakable spark of mischief, her smile widening as she leaned in even closer, her gaze never wavering from Peter?s face. She let out a low chuckle, clearly reveling in his discomfort as she sized him up, her hand brushing over his hip in a way that made Peter?s spider-sense spike again.

     ?Aww, look at you, all tense and serious,? she teased, her tone lilting, but with an edge that let him know she was enjoying every second of this little game. Her fingers trailed along his belt as she spoke, keeping him on edge, just this side of his boundaries. ?What?s wrong, Spidey? Ain?t I good company??

     she tilted her head, as if genuinely curious, before giving him a light tap on the chest with a manicured finger. ?I mean, you heroes are always so worked up,? she said, feigning a pout, though the glint in her eyes betrayed her amusement. ?I?m just tryin? to get ya to loosen up a little. Can?t a girl have a little fun without you actin? like I?m about to? I dunno? tie ya up and dangle ya from a skyscraper??

     She laughed, clearly pleased with his reaction. , giving his shoulder a playful squeeze. ?But c?mon, Spidey,? she said, giving him a final lingering glance, ?wouldn?t ya rather find out than wonder forever??

     And with that, she gave him a wink, her laughter echoing as she sauntered out, leaving him standing there?his heart pounding and the question hanging in the air.