For 30+ Advance/Early chapters :p
atreon.com/ScoldeyJod
The scraping of chairs and the cacophony of a hundred students packing their bags signaled the end of the lecture, but Peter and Diana remained seated for a moment, the world rushing on around their small island of stillness. His hand was still clasped in hers, a warm, solid anchor that had kept him from being swept away by the storm in his own mind.
He turned to her, the gratitude he felt so immense it was a physical ache in his chest. "Thank you," he said, his voice low and earnest. "I mean... seriously, Diana. Thank you. Not just for... you know, the sea slug thing."
"Kleptoplasty," she corrected gently, a faint smile touching her lips. "And you do not need to thank me, Peter."
"Yes, I do," he insisted, squeezing her hand. "You didn't just answer a question. You... you saw that I was struggling. You knew."
They stood and began to filter out with the last of the students, their movements slow and synchronized. "I did not need to be a mind reader to see your distress," she said as they stepped out into the bright, crisp autumn afternoon. "Your thoughts are often a storm, but that was a hurricane. I could feel the change in pressure."
They found their way to their secluded bench in the botanical gardens, the need for a quiet space to decompress an unspoken, mutual agreement.
"A hurricane," he repeated, letting out a humorless laugh as he sat down. "Yeah, that's a pretty good word for it. Sometimes my brain just gets... loud. Too much input. It's like I can hear every conversation, see every little detail, and I can't... I can't filter it. It all just crashes together." It was the closest he could come to explaining the overwhelming, chaotic nature of his spider-sense without revealing the truth.
Diana sat beside him, her posture relaxed but her focus entirely on him. "My home was very quiet," she said, her voice taking on a distant, thoughtful quality. "The loudest sounds were the clash of swords in the training yard and the breaking of waves on the shore. This world... this city... is a constant storm of signals and noise. I understand the need to find a single, clear voice in the chaos."
He looked at her, at the profound empathy in her eyes, and felt a wave of relief so powerful it almost made him dizzy. She didn't think he was weird or broken. She understood. She was a quiet place in a loud world, and for some miraculous reason, she had chosen to share that quiet with him.
"You're my clear voice," he admitted, the words feeling both terrifyingly vulnerable and completely, indisputably true. "You're my signal."
The corner of her mouth quirked up. "Then we shall have to ensure our signal is strong." She was quiet for a moment, her thumb tracing the lines on the back of his hand. "When you were in distress, my first, and only, instinct was to protect you. It was... unfamiliar."
"Unfamiliar?" he asked, tilting his head. "You don't seem like someone who's a stranger to protecting people."
"I am not," she agreed. "But I am accustomed to being the one who physically stands between a threat and the innocent. In that room, the threat was invisible. It was inside your own mind. The only weapons I had were words, and the only person I needed to shield was you. It was an act of protection, yes, but it was profoundly... intimate."
He understood then. The dynamic had shifted. He, the secret protector of the city, had been the one in need of protection. And she, the warrior goddess, had shielded him not with her fists or her bracelets, but with her mind and her heart. The balance between them had found a new, more perfect equilibrium.
"Well," he said, a wide, genuine smile finally breaking through. "For what it's worth... you're a natural."
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, just being. The sun was warm on their faces, and the distant sounds of the city felt a million miles away. It was a perfect, stolen moment of peace.
"I need coffee," Peter declared eventually. "A real cup. Not the brown-colored water they serve in the science building. My treat. As a thank you for being my... external hard drive."
Her laugh was a low, melodic sound that made his chest feel light. "An acceptable offering."
They walked to a small, off-campus cafe, a cozy place with mismatched chairs and the rich, comforting smell of roasted coffee beans. The simple, domestic act of standing in line together, of debating the merits of a latte versus a cappuccino, felt like a scene from a life he never thought he'd be allowed to have. He watched her as she ordered, her direct, regal manner slightly bemusing the pierced, perpetually bored-looking barista. The love he felt for her was a constant, warm hum beneath the surface of his skin.
They found a small table by the window, and for a while, everything was perfect. The coffee was strong, the conversation was easy, and the presence of Diana beside him was a profound comfort. He was telling her a story about one of Ned's more disastrous chemistry experiments in high school when his eyes flickered to the small television mounted on the wall behind the counter.
It was a local news report. The sound was off, but the images were stark and clear: a fleet of police cars and emergency vehicles surrounding a downtown subway entrance. The headline at the bottom of the screen read: "UNKNOWN ENERGY SURGE CAUSES SUBWAY CHAOS - POWER OUTAGES REPORTED IN LOWER MANHATTAN."
Peter's easy smile tightened. The story about Ned died on his lips. He felt a familiar, cold prickle at the base of his skull—the low-level thrum of his danger sense reacting to a potential threat. Unknown energy surge. The words were a blaring alarm bell in his mind, echoing past encounters with villains like Electro or Shocker.
He saw Diana's gaze follow his to the screen. Her relaxed posture stiffened almost imperceptibly. The soft, amused light in her eyes was instantly replaced by that razor-sharp, analytical focus he was coming to know so well. It was the look of a soldier assessing a threat, calculating risks, preparing for battle.
She didn't have a spider-sense, but she didn't need one. She was a finely honed weapon, and she could sense the discordant note in the city's rhythm just as clearly as he could.
The quiet, perfect bubble they had built around themselves popped, the harsh reality of their other lives rushing in. The warmth of the coffee shop, the scent of the beans, the low murmur of conversations—it all faded into the background.
She looked away from the screen, her eyes meeting his. She didn't say a word. She didn't have to. The question was there, clear as day. Do you feel it too?
He gave her a single, almost imperceptible nod. Yeah. I feel it.
The new protocol was about to be tested. They were Peter and Diana, the unlikely couple who had just found their signal in the noise. But they were also Spider-Man and Wonder Woman. And the city, as always, was calling.
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