The cold air from the air conditioner made Mayra shiver. She tried to cover her hands by pulling her sleeves down, hugging her bag close to her back, and unconsciously rubbing her legs together to keep her warm.

Why the fuck would you in the fucking world blast the fucking ac when it's practically fucking freezing outside.

Her mind yelled at her to go back home and do her homework, and her heart wanted to stay here, satisfy the investigative soul that yearned for new adventures. Mayra was here because she wanted to see how he had done it, how he'd sneaked out of his office, sneaked back in and no one would've noticed a thing. She wanted to observe his behavioral patterns, his constant fidgets, his alert state of mind, and the creepy stares he'd shoot everyone at the office. She wanted things to be proved because mere words aren't evidence.

The yellow lights from the ceiling stung her already dry eyes, the cold leather sofa freezing her ass. She played with her fingers hidden under the sleeves of her sweater, intently listening to the conversation happening in front of her.

"We can't grant access to some random college girl who's in some detective internship," whispered a Karen who thought that her whispering would lull people to sleep. She kept stomping her red stilettos on the marble floor, her hands dramatically flying out in all directions.

"Exactly why we should grant her access to the cams, what if they suspect the whole company for the murders? We're going to go down, and if I'm going to go down, I'll be taking you with me!"

A guy in a causal shirt yelled back at her, the Karen rolled her eyes, turned to Mayra, and gave her a tight-lipped smile. The two employees then guarded her to their security room, giving her access to the cameras situated in the offices and outside the building.

Mayra asked the girl monitoring the security cams to pull up the recordings of Blake's office on 12th October 2027. Time: 6:17 pm. The day Mr. Anderson was murdered.

The monitor played a blurry image of the man, hunched down on his laptop, punching down the letters on his keyboard, and taking occasional sips of his tea. He had few interactions with his colleagues sitting beside him as the time ticked by.

6:17 pm was when he was reported missing. But here we had our dear murderer, dressed in an orange Halloween sweater giving out a hearty laugh at one of the jokes his colleague cracked.

But 6:17 was when Mr. Anderson was reported missing by his daughters. It wasn't the exact time of his disappearance. And Anderson, left his office around 3 pm according to their investigations that were carried prior, so Mayra asked the girl to play the recording of the same day between 3 pm and 6:17 pm.

The screen played the footage three times faster. Fast enough for Mayra to not waste the entire night and slow enough for her to take notice of every detail in the office. Blake got up one time to head down to the cafe on the ground floor, but he hadn't left his premises. He hadn't stepped outside the building, he hadn't made a call, he just sat there enjoying his work.

Mayra kept rewinding the tape, one time, two times, three times. Sitting there in the security room all alone as the rest got tired with her obsession and left, she massaged the ache in her head, begging for it to go away. Her phone buzzed from her pocket, seeing her mom's text brightening up her screen. She shot her a quick text, lying that she was doing her homework in the cafe.

She strained her eyes over the computer screen, looking over every detail, looking for any glitches in the recordings that would confirm Blake's crime. Confirm that he had stepped out of his office to make his thirty-fifth kill. But she found none.

Peter's POV.

Peter swung through the city in his iron spider suit, considering his old one had been burnt and needed some serious remaking. His day at the university had been tiring but it wasn't something that would stop him from going out to patrol. He had stopped a robbery, helped a girl find her mom, stopped a bunch of bullies, and was now swinging his way to his apartment. The cold wind whizzing past him, as he swung from one building to another.

Peter loved the thrill of being airborne in New York's skies, loved how the adrenaline rushed through his veins, loved the roaring wind which clouded his thoughts, and loved moving into his bed after a satisfying night. There were times where he'd face off gangsters threatening the peace and security of the area, wounding him real bad. But it wasn't anything that Peter couldn't fight off.

Swinging through the streets, nearing his apartment, he saw a small figure walking down the silent dark roads. Lowering himself down and squinting his eyes, he noticed Mayra Knott who kept hugging her maroon sweater close to her arms, her dark curls playing with the wind while she rapidly swished through pages of a yellow file. Peter perched on top of the billboard, observing her as she kept looking at her phone, watching and listening to something while a deep frown of concentration etched across her forehead. He decided to reveal himself, thinking that some company would be nice on a cold lonely night.

He hung upside down from the billboard, gradually lowering himself as Mayra inched closer to it, her head still absorbed in whatever movie that was playing on her phone. Hoping she'd notice, Peter just hung down like a bat, waiting to scare the fuck out of her. But as she quickened her pace, their heads smashed into each other. Peter hissed with pain and Mayra stepped five feet back, rubbing her forehead and removing her earphones, looking at Peter in pure annoyance.

"Sorry," Peter said, making sure he switched on his voice changer since Mayra knew what Peter Parker sounded like in real life.

"Uh, what the fuck?" Mayra spoke. She kept the yellow file in her bag, pushed her phone and earphones in her pocket, and looked at Peter as if she would throttle him right then and there.

"Is that how you thank a guy who saved your life?"

"What are you doing here?" Mayra questioned.

"You seem to love getting in trouble," Peter said as he mounted off from the billboard, now landing beside Mayra and walking with her. "It's 8, the street's deserted and, you're walking alone."

"Well, my friends live in Manhattan, and um, I sorta lied to my mom, so I can't really call her. Besides my apartment is literally on the next street, you should know that," Mayra smirked as she reminded him of the time Peter broke into her window.

"I'll walk you home then," Peter gave her a half bow.

Mayra let a small smile form on her lips at Peter's flirty nature. She shook her head in a slight nod and slowed her pace.

"So, Peter Parker told me about you," Peter said. The streetlights in Mayra's eyes danced in fascination as she looked at his iron armor in awe.

"Oh, so did ya get the message?" Mayra asked.

"No, not really," he smirked beneath his mask, making sure he sounded as sarcastic as possible while Mayra rolled her eyes.

"Fuck you, you cocky asshole," she chuckled, kicking the dirt beneath her sneakers.

"Flattering really, but I already have a girlfriend." Mayra's eyes widened, she shook her head biting back a smile, and gave Peter a hard push against his shoulder. He held his arm, faking his hurt as she looked at him with a smirk. And then the usual frown occupied her forehead. She bit the end of her lips, darting her eyes everywhere as if she was trying to sort her thoughts in the dark, misty sky.

"You sound different," she finally spoke up.

Fuck, she is smart.

"N-no, I d-don't," Peter stammered, clearing his throat and trying to sound more casual.

"Yeah, you-"

Peter cut her off by grabbing her waist and shooting a web at the building, "I think we should swing."

Peter hauled himself up as he held Mayra by her waist pulling her into the air without leaving her any time to protest. Mayra's arms wrapped instinctively around Peter's neck while she cursed the fuck out of him. Calling him all sorts of various insults, the kind of insults which would get you grounded from Captain America. After just two minutes of swinging, they landed on her balcony.

He set Mayra down, who immediately pulled out of his pull, giving him a slight push. "You son of a fucking bitch," she whispered, panting as she tried to get back the air in her lungs. Peter could hear Mayra's heart beating rapidly against her chest, feeling a pang of guilt for not taking her consent.

"Asshole, dumbass, you idiotic fucker," she continued with more momentum now that she'd gained her equilibrium, pushing her obsidian curls out of her face.

"Hey, I got you here faster," Peter said, holding his arms up in defense.

"You could've dropped me!" Mayra emphasized, her eyes widening in annoyance.

"Ok, I'm genuinely hurt, that's fucking offensive, you just assassinated my character," Peter dramatically folded his arms, leaning back on the fence of her balcony, and looked away from Mayra. She flipped him off, turned on her heels, and adjusted the bag on her shoulder, making her way inside her room.

"Thanks for every shit, you little bitch," she muttered and gave him a small smile, before stepping inside her room.

"Not accepting it before you apologize."

Mayra turned back with lightning speed, an incredulous expression masking her face. "What? Apologize?"

"Yeah," Peter shrugged, his eyes still transfixed at the blinking lights of the skyscrapers.

"You're impossible," she sighed.

"You're insufferable," Peter remarked.

"I'm sorry for doubting your holding skills," Mayra muttered nonchalantly.

"That's a weak apology."

"You bitch, the fuck do you want me to do?"

"I don't know, something grand?" Peter remarked, the smug tone annoying Mayra.

"Yeah, I have no time to listen to your whiny oversensitive ass," Mayra decided, a tired sigh leaving her chapped lips.

"I have one fine ass and no one can tell otherwise."

"Fuck off, will you?" The corner of her mouth threatened to form a smile, but she bit it back, still maintaining a stoic expression as Peter dipped his head, giving her a small salute, and shot his web to building nearby. Swinging off to home and the last thing he heard from Mayra through his enhanced hearing was, "Holy shit!"

a/n: how is everyone??? i hope you're taking care of yourself. ilysm