deerington inbox

[declaw]

YOU JUST MISSED ME.

Bad luck, right?

You've reached Felicia Hardy. Leave a message and maybe I'll get back to you. If you're lucky.

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[quipsandthwips]

[He laughs shortly.]

Yeaaaah. Sorry 'bout that. I definitely broke a lamp already, but I'll stay still. Pinky swear.

[A pause, thoughtful, careful.]

I might've already met you without the mask recently, if my foggy memory serves correctly... and if there's anyone who can get me broken out of something, I think I'd trust you with that more than just about any one.

So, uh. I guess I'm willing to take the trust plunge.

... Not literally, I really don't want to fall on my face from up here. But metaphorically.

[He sends her the location to his townhouse.]

Just don't make fun of my messes.

[declaw]

...Oh. You're —

[ NOT HER PETER? I MEAN, the baby version? Look, whatever. She was right. So she doesn't divulge it. Just... play it cool, no big deal. Peter Parkers came in all shapes and sizes, but at least she was right. Not about teeny, though. For now, she'll start packing up a little toolkit she stole from the hospital and gathering her things.

She'll get to his place eventually. ]

Look. Not like you have any other options and you called me for a reason. Regardless of this awkward back history, I like to get things done. Call me ambitious. The least you can do is let me make fun of your messes — because I'm going to anyways.

I'll be there in a bit.