She has a crush on Spider-Man.

Officially.

It's written down in her diary, locked away and hidden underneath her bed, but imprinted inside her own mind nonetheless.

Her dad says he's a troublemaker. Which, honestly, makes him all the more attractive to her. But her dad would think that. Especially considering Spider-Man's ability to take down a criminal in a way that is much quicker than the police department he's captain of, while also being able to do so in a way that bends the rules while still upholding them to some sort of standard. She knows it drives her father absolutely mad.

He's shouted about it several times at family dinner.

But it's more than just her father's fury with the man that causes her heart to race and her skin to prickle when she thinks of him.

It's not even the fact that he's saved her once before, because while she's eternally grateful to still have her life, she's not got some sort of damsel in distress complex.

It's the fact that, while he was saving her, she felt as though she was flying.

Quite possibly soaring.

And, though she caught sight of herself in the reflection of a passing building and knows that clinging tightly to a man in a tight spandex suit is not, indeed, flying, she's still rather fond of the fact that she knows what it must feel like.

And Spider-Man has given her that.

And that isn't such a silly reason for having a crush on their hometown hero, now is it?

If Lily didn't already have a crush on Spider-Man, she most likely would have developed one on James Potter ages ago.

He's an idiot.

And, embarrassingly enough, that seems to be her type.

Though he's not an idiot in the way in which he is lacking of intelligence. Rather, he's an idiot in the sort of way that makes her laugh.

He's far more daring than she is and much more of a cut up in class, and while she can't fault her teacher's scoldings, she can't help but laugh at his antics.

Even if this means that she too often gets called down.

Which is the only time she ever gets called down in class.

All thanks to James Potter.

"Honestly, Ms. Evans, you've got to control your laughter," Ms. McGongall had said earlier that day. "You're only encouraging him."

James had just done a -substandard- back flip, attempting to land in (or perhaps somewhere around) his seat, but instead had crashed straight into McGonagall's desk.

He had been laying there, sprawled out and grinning up at her, his glasses gone wonky and his shirt pushed up slightly.

She'd fight him a bit fit if she didn't find him stupid.

"Evans," he says, his smile somehow charming even upside down. "Has anyone ever told you that you have the laugh of an angel?"

She shakes her head at him, another laugh nearly spitting its way out of her mouth. Honestly, it's probably unattractive, the way her laugh is almost bubbling out of her lips.

He's an idiot. An absolute idiot.

But he's grinning at her as though he's clever. As though he's knows something she doesn't. Or sees something that she doesn't.

She'll let him go on thinking he's clever.

Just this once.

Weird things happen in Queens.

Like a lot.

Probably enough monsters pop up that someone should really inspect the water. Or a power plant. Or something.

People aren't necessarily used to the monsters. Lily knows this by the hoards of people running past her screaming. After all, monsters aren't normal. But people are more willing to overlook the absolute insanity of a monster existing whenever there's a hero around to save them.

And whenever there is a monster, there is a Spider-Man kicking it's ass to save them all.

Which is why Lily is running against the crowd. Pushing her way through to where the monster - whatever it is this time- will be.

Wherever Spider-Man will be.

Because, God help her, she's willing to risk being stampeded on and crushed to death by another monster to catch a glimpse of him.

It's the only time she can.

It's a man, though, not a monster when she gets to the part of the city where they're fighting.

Men can be dangerous though, she thinks. Sometimes even more dangerous than monsters themselves.

Riddle, apparently is the man's name. Spider-Man is shouting at him, taunting him as he swings around him. He moves with such ease and grace that Riddle can't quite pin him down with whatever he's shooting out of the stick he's wielding. A wand, perhaps? She's never heard any sort of villain carrying around a wand but she can't think of any other way to describe it.

Is Riddle a magician?

Do magicians exist?

Nothing would surprise her anymore.

She's distracted and nearly gets flattened when one of Riddle's spells - incantations? - goes haywire, missing Spider-Man and instead hitting a nearby building. Spider-Man though is thankfully well aware of his surroundings and manages to scoop her up - bridal style - before she can let out a fully formed scream. It catches in her throat and she feels as though she's swallowing it back down against the force of the wind.

They land several buildings down, Lily's nails digging helplessly into his too tight material of his suit. She can't quite get a good grip on him. In more ways than one.

"Jesus, Evans," he groans. There's something in his voice and the way he says her name that makes her spine tingle. "What are you doing over here? It's dangerous!"

"How do you know my name?" she asks, ignoring the danger of it all.

She wonders what his face looks like behind the mask. Whether he's shocked at her question or not.

"Honestly, it's just like you to get hung up over something like that when the whole town is practically being destroyed behind you." His voice sounds like he's smirking. It almost riles her up if it weren't for the fact that Riddle seems to have finally caught up to where they are.

A green light barely misses them causing her hair to whip around behind her.

"Right," she says. "Shouldn't you be - I don't know. What's the proper term? Saving the day? Kicking his ass? Do you think you even can? He seems pretty strong."

"I can," he says, defending himself. And only Lily Evans would have Spider-Man defending his own crime fighting abilities. "But first you have to let me go, Evans."

"Let you - oh!"

She's still clinging to him. The fabric of his spider suit not quite bunching underneath her fingernails, but she's attached to him like a leech. Almost as if she's suctioned herself to him. She quickly let's go feeling rather embarrassed.

"You really ought to get out of here," he says, straightening himself out so she has to look up at him.

"You're taller than me," she says without thinking. Without caring that Riddle is nearly at their throats. "Six inches, I would wager."

He pauses a moment and she wonders if he's looking at her, taking her in. She wonders what he sees. And then he lifts his hand, a web shooting out from somewhere, and he's gone, swinging high above her, Riddle following on his trail.

It's not fair, she thinks. The only way she even catches a glimpse of him is whenever there's danger and she's nearly got to put her life at risk to do it.

Why…why does she do it?

She isn't sure.

There's a rumbling behind her and Lily almost wonders if they're back, Spider-Man and Riddle. But when she turns its Sirius Black on his motorbike.

"Hop on, Evans," he says, tossing her a helmet.

"What are you doing here?"

"Giving you a ride, of course."

A week goes by.

There's no sign of Riddle or of Spider-Man himself.

Lily's not quite sure what happened to Riddle or how Spider-Man managed to take him down. He didn't die. They hardly ever do. But he's slunk off somewhere, likely licking his wounds for the next fight.

"On your left, Evans."

James passes her quickly which he never does. He always takes his time whenever he's around her. Often times holding up lunch lines and preventing her from checking out her next library book.

She suspects he doesn't want her to see his shiner.

But she does.

It's from football, Sirius said when she questioned him in math. She doesn't quite believe him, but she can't get anymore out of him. He's hardly spoken to her since he dropped her off at her house after that evening when Riddle attacked. He hardly spoke to her then either. She had been about to open her mouth to ask him how he even knew she was there or why Sirius himself was there but he had sped off. Without looking back.

Sirius is looking at her now, however. He's paused at his locker at the very end of the hallway, where James is heading no doubt. It feels as though his eyes are trying to tell her something, but she can't figure it out.

It's hard to look at Sirius when James is around. As if she has tunnel vision.

She stops there, in the middle of the hallway, watching James walk a bit slumped over, head down as if he's trying to hide his full height or something.

Odd, she thinks.

James is her neighbor.

He's been her neighbor since they were six and he would throw pebbles at her window to ask her to play. Sometimes he still does throw pebbles at her window, though not to ask her to play any longer. Mostly to taunt her.

This time, however, James himself is tapping against her window. It startles her and she nearly screams. He's leaning there, slightly hunched into the window frame and waving at her.

And bleeding.

Bleeding.

"Oh my god," she cries, pulling the window open. He falls forward into her floor as if the only thing holding him steady was the glass. "James! What's happened!"

"I fell."

"You didn't fall. You have fucking slash marks across your chest, James Potter!"

"Okay, okay," he says, trying to laugh but coughing instead. "I got into a fight."

"What sort of fight? Who even would do something like this?"

He looks at her as though he's pressing her not to ask. Not to press this any further. And as much as it's entirely not in her nature not to question things, she lets this one go. Instead, helping him over to her bed where he falls, groaning, and cupping his face.

"Oh James," she says, her voice breaking. She feels as though she may start crying.

"Hey, hey, hey!" he says, reaching up to wipe away a tear that betrays her and slips down her cheek. "I'm totally okay. Or I will be. You should see the other guy."

She laughs, unable to help it. He's always had that ability over her.

"You're so stupid," she snorts, but there's affection in her tone.

"Maybe," he says, scrunching his nose. "Do you think you could help me get cleaned up? Euphemia will kill me if I come home like this."

"Oh, oh god, yes!" she says, feeling quite stupid for not offering beforehand. She jumps to her bathroom, returning with a damp rag and her first aid kit. The bed sinks slightly with her weight as she sits down and leans into him.

She pauses, his shirt posing a problem and not really sure how to voice such a issue.

He blinks. "What?"

Um," she starts, half gesturing at his shirt and then feeling all the more awkward and rubbing the back of her neck. "Your- your shirt. It needs to come off."

"Oh," he says, looking down. "Oh."

"Yeah, do you think you can lift your arms for me to get it off?"

He tries, hissing in pain when he does and slumping back against the headboard.

"That's okay, that's okay!" she says, quickly. "Maybe if I just - just do this…"

She tugs at his shirt with both hands, the fact that it's already shredded in three slash marks helping her to tear the material with ease. It falls off him, stained and bloody, and Lily thinks with a small exhale of a snort that James Potter is shirtless in her bed.

She begins to work on cleaning his wounds, placing the cloth to his chest and working some peroxide on the open flesh.

"One day," she says, still working away, "I'm going to ask you about this again, you know."

"I know," he says, humor in his voice. "And one day, I'll give you an answer."

She's in the wrong place at the right time again.

Riddle is back, or was back. She's not sure where he is right now, but she's currently stuck in a web.

Because wherever Riddle is, Spider-Man in nearby.

And Lily, knowing this, always finds herself running straight into danger just to catch a glimpse of him.

And Spider-Man, apparently knowing Lily, had a trap waiting for her to keep her from endangering herself any further.

Honestly, the nerve of his heroism.

She's stuck, struggling against the sticky web, when she feels the strands begin to vibrate with the force of someone crawling down them.

She doesn't have to look up to know who it is.

"This is a rotten trick you've pulled!" she hisses. "Trapping me in this!"

"Had to." His tone is casual. It makes her huff in annoyance. "Someone has to keep you from getting yourself killed. You wouldn't even be in this mess if you weren't following me."

"I'm not following you."

"You are too!"

"Well, I wouldn't have to follow you if this weren't the only way I would get to see you!"

Trust her to have a shouting match with Spider-Man, their local, hometown hero after he's likely just saved the day again. All because she has an uncontrollable crush on him.

He's hovering just above her, and even with his mask on she can feel the tension.

"Do you have any idea just how distracting you are to me, Evans?"

The way he says it, like he's pained, causes her skin to prickle in goosebumps. He doesn't have to clarify in what way she's distracting him. She knows. He's been doing it to her as well.

"Same could be said for you," she says, feeling rather brave. "You're all I think about lately."

She's worked her hands loose, just as he's lowered himself to look at her upside down.

"Don't say that. God, Evans, you have no idea what you're doing to me."

They're nose to nose now. Inches apart from each other.

"Why don't you tell me?"

Her voice is a whisper.

"You're all I fucking think about too even when I should be thinking of other things. Especially when I should be thinking of other things. I can't sleep, I can't eat. Goddammit, Evans. I just - I need -"

Her hands cut him off, trembling with the courage behind what she's about to do. He doesn't stop her when he fells her fingertips work their way underneath the material of his mask, she hears his breath hitch when she pulls it down - or, perhaps, up - bunching it past his nose and then stopping.

He leans in then - still upside down - to kiss her.

And Lily, feeling giddy and unable to stop herself, laughs into the kiss.

His lips quirk upward against her own.

"Your laugh sounds like heaven," he mutters between kisses.

Spider-Man is six inches taller than her.

James Potter is six inches taller than her.

She realizes this when they're herded in the front of the school, waiting on the bus that will take them on an overnight field trip, and he approaches her and she has to look up.

"Want to be bus buddies, Evans?" he asks. His lips look red and puffy, and she instinctively reaches up to where she knows there's a bite mark blossoming on her neck.

And she knows.

Of course she does.

He put it there because the git is Spider-Man.

But he doesn't have to know that she's figured it out just yet.

She'll let him go on thinking he's a bit clever.

Just this once.

"Yeah," she says, smiling. "Yeah, I'd like that."

"Brilliant," he grins. "Did you see Spider-Man on the news last night?"