DISCLAIMER: All characters and situation appearing herein were originally created by Marvel Comics. No profit is being made off this work.

Posted by: Elspethdixon

Pairings: various

Fandom: New Avengers (pre-Road to Civil War)

Sex Pollen Fic, Minus the Sex

MJ was standing with her arms folded over her breasts, staring at us collected representatives of the costume brigade with murder in her eyes. And behind that, hurt.

I wanted to die. I really, seriously, no-kidding wanted to die.

I've announced my desire for immediate death before, generally after just getting my clock cleaned by someone really humiliating, like the Rhino, but this time I meant it.

"I can't apologize enough," Jessica was saying. I carefully didn't look at her, since she was still wearing the skin-tight costume that now produced dozens of bad-bad-wrong mental images. Like distinct sensory memories of what touching it had felt like.

"No," MJ said coolly. "You can't. Have you seen channel five yet?"

Oh God, I hadn't even though about tv cameras. The newspaper was going to be bad enough. I actually felt physically ill at the idea of going by a newsstand tomorrow. Jameson was going to have a field day with this. "Spider-Man makes out with Spider-Woman during downtown rush hour! Will their unholy union produce Spider-Spawn?" It was practically Christmas and his birthday all rolled into one.

"I'm really sorry, MJ," I stammered, trying to rush the words out before she interrupted me. "I didn't mean to, I swear! It's… the Mandrill has this pheromone thing he does, like sex pollen, only more disgusting, and he did something, and suddenly all the business commuters coming up from the subway were making like Debbie does Dallas, and--."

"And we were unlucky enough to breathe it in as well," Tony finished, taking pity on my patheticness. MJ turned her glare on him, but he had super-businessman powers and was immune to it. "I sent an air sample to Hank to get a complete analysis of whatever it is he uses, but I can already tell you that there was enough of it in the air to seduce a busload of nuns, and that, combined with Spiderwoman's pheromones…" He shrugged, which looked kind of weird, since he still hadn't taken off his armor.

Well, except for the helmet. The helmet had been gone since shortly after we all got zapped by the lust fumes, but following that train of thought any further would only lead to even more hideous mental trauma.

"It really wasn't your husband's fault," Tony finished. "And, Peter, I'd like to offer my apologies as well. If I hadn't been distracted, I would have done something to stop the two of you."

Yeah, 'distracted' was one way to put it.

MJ was still frowning, but that awful, hurt look was gone from her eyes, replaced with plain old irritation. Mad-at-Peter-for-accidentally- cheating-on-her-with-Jessica-Drew was lightyears ahead of hurt-that-Peter-deliberately-cheated-on-her-with-Jessica-Drew. I still wanted to sink through the floor, but possibly death could wait — at least until the Bugle came out tomorrow.

"Distracted." Luke repeated. "The press is gonna love you being distracted, too. I can see the headline now: 'Tony Stark, Gay Billionaire.'"

"Thank you so much." Tony frowned, and looked down at the floor, pressing one gauntleted hand to his forehead. "And here I thought the 'Tony Stark is Iron Man' headlines would be the worst of my problems," he muttered.

"No, trust me, man. They'll go for the gay angle." Luke was being disgustingly cheerful, with all the smugness of a man who had not breathed in monkey lust fumes. Which was probably the one blessing in this scenario, come to think of it, because the closest Avenger to him had been Wolverine, and I so did not need that mental image.

"No," I corrected him, with completely justified bitterness, "Jameson will go for the 'Spiderman is an evil ho' angle. You can bet money on it."

MJ stared at them, then stared at me. I knew what she must have been seeing—the lower lip swollen from Jessica's bite mark, the smear of dark red lipstick across my chin—and wished, uselessly, that there had been time before this confrontation for me to clean up.

"So, wait a minute, let me get this straight. Are you people trying to tell me that my husband was date-raped?"

"Um," I objected, "it makes me sound so much wussier when you put it like that."

"Hey," Jessica said, "you're actually in the same room with me, which means you're handling this more maturely than Captain America."

Tony, damn him, actually started to smile. "I'm sure Steve will eventually regain the ability to come within twenty feet of me. Unless someone mentions the date-rape analogy to him."