"Gotta say, Tony, a girl could get used to this kind of treatment." Mary-Jane Watson-Parker said, flashing the billionaire a sparkling white grin as the yacht slipped easily out of the New York harbour.
"Hey, thank your husband." Stark replied with a smirk. "It was his idea. What with everything that's going on with Steve, and after what happened to Johnny…" He paused, a flicker of remorse drifting across his face, which he threw off with a shrug. "Anyway, Peter thought it'd be best you get out of the city for a while."
"Yeah, he told me so himself, but he figured you'd put me in some dusty 'off-the-books' safe-house." She said, pacing across the smooth wooden floor of the ship's deck.
"Mary-Jane, please. Do you think anything that I own is dusty?" Tony replied, as he keyed in a series of co-ordinates to the yacht's central computer. He released the stainless steel ship's wheel, and enjoyed the brief look of surprise on MJ's face as it began to steer itself across the sapphire blue waters.
"Okay then, maybe a very high-tech safe-house… in the Bahamas." She snapped playfully, determined to remain on the high-ground of the exchange.
"I have some business to arrange anyway." Stark continued. "I needed to get out of New York for a few days, and with Peter's suggestion… well, why not take you with me? After all, you'll at least be safer with me around."
"True. And it's just us on the ship?"
"Definitely. No staff, excluding the appliances and equipment. You'll still be waited on, but it'll be less hand & foot and more CPU & coaxial cable."
MJ snickered, and Tony smiled. She hadn't fully understood the joke, but she had spent enough years married to Peter to know when a science genius said something funny and was expecting a polite laugh in return.
"That's good. I won't lie to you, Tony, Peter was a little freaked when you mentioned the yacht. He said he was nervous about the idea of me on a yacht with a group of men, and made me promise not to take my thong bikini."
"I trust you made good on your promise?" He asked.
"Well, a girl has to have a little fun, doesn't she?" MJ asked, unbuttoning her shirt to reveal a shimmering black bikini top barely containing her generously-sized breasts. "Just, uh… promise you won't tell Peter, okay?" She asked with a shy smile.
"Your wish is my command, Mrs Watson-Parker." Tony replied.
"To be honest, I miss just being 'Miss Watson'." MJ said with a slight grimace. "Don't get me wrong, I love Peter, but 'Missus Watson-Parker' is just such a mouthful to say. Plus it's a nightmare to spell over the phone."
"Well, what say I make you a deal?" Tony said, mentally rotating his 'charm' dial up to 11. "For the duration of our trip, I won't call you 'Mrs Watson-Parker'. From now on, you can just be MJ Watson, the free-spirited redhead with Broadway in her eyes. Then once we get back to Manhattan, you can go back to being Mrs Watson-Parker, wife of Spider-Man and step-niece to May Parker."
MJ paused, considering it, and nodded.
"Y'know something, Tony? I like the sound of that."
"Then your wish is my command… Miss Mary-Jane Watson."
* * *
Stark's yacht, 'The Maria', was by far the most advanced sea-vessel MJ had ever laid her eyes upon (and thanks to more than a handful of Maxim photoshoots, she had seen many). Its sleek design reminded her of something from a 'Star Trek' movie, with engines that made almost less than no noise at all, and flawless interior design from smooth cream-white walls to plush grey-blue carpets.
Every inch of the craft was practically perfect, and the lack of any crew made it easier to navigate. There were less rooms overall, meaning there was both an outdoor and indoor pool available, along with several bars and restaurants, a spa, a gym and even a library containing hard-drives and computers filled with (so far as MJ was concerned) every book, magazine and newspaper that had ever been published.
And it was almost impossible to get lost, as every room had a panel built into the wall next to each door, which was used to access the ship's central systems, offering a map, a virtual tour, and a communication system.
It was as MJ was reclining in the library, poring through an issue of Cosmopolitan, when said communication system gave off a soft ringing sound.
"Hello?" She replied, uncertainly.
"Hey!" Called the voice of the yacht's only other occupant. "How's things, MJ? Keeping busy?"
"So far, so good." She replied. "Where are you?"
"Down in the engines. The third compressor wasn't properly articulating its fuel-line reserve-flow, had to dismantle the entire thing and rebuild it from scratch. Last time I let my factory assemble something for me without overseeing it."
"Oh, for sure." MJ replied with a nod, just in case he could somehow see her too. "Listen, Stark, how long do you think you'll take? Because I was getting kinda hungry, but I won't lie, this boat is giving me some real 'Shining' vibes. I wouldn't mind some company."
"No problem." The intercom replied. "I'll be done in about an hour, meet you in the mezzanine bistro?"
"I'll see you there, handsome." She said absent-mindedly. There was a second of silence, before the intercom clicked off on Tony's side. MJ suddenly sat up with a jolt as she realised what she'd said.
She didn't give herself time to worry about it, as she made her way back to her cabin, already thinking of what she would wear to dinner. Something conservative, something proper, something that reminded both Tony and herself that she was a married woman…
* * *
One hour later, MJ found herself in the bistro dressed in a black dress that stopped halfway down her thighs, with a pair of black pumps and her hair tied back in a way that she had always found accentuated her cheekbones and lips, with eyeshadow that gave her eyes a 'dare you open Pandora's box?' look.
Tony arrived five minutes after her, dressed in a suit of casual grey silk, with no tie and a white shirt open at the top by three buttons.
"Glad you could make it, how was traffic?" He asked with a smirk. MJ smiled in response, and he sat down opposite her, tapping a glass panel on the table's surface to open the holographic menu in front of them both.
They made their orders, with a motorised arm placing crystal glasses of chilled red wine in front of them as soon as they made their selections.
"So, how are you finding the ship?" He asked, his fingers steepled in front of him. She recognised the look from various press-conferences regarding Stark technology. It was a look that said 'go ahead, find a problem, I dare you'.
"I have to admit it, you've built one hell of a boat, Tony. One absolute hell of a boat." She admitted, sipping her wine. "You could practically live on one of these things."
Tony shrugged weakly.
"That was almost the idea."
"Really?"
"Well, you know my story." He said, gesturing vaguely at the centre of his chest. She nodded gently, she knew it was a difficult subject for him to talk about. "After… that… I put a lot of money towards conservation efforts as well as restorations, but it struck me that everyone was running around trying to stop disasters from happening, when really, disasters will always happen eventually. So I started looking into methods of surviving extreme scenarios, such as volcanic eruptions, earthquakes, tsunamis…"
"Superhero conflicts…" MJ suggested. Stark smiled, and nodded.
"Yeah, that sort of thing. I came up with some ideas, and began putting in some hours on the design-work and manufacturing. This little number," He said, tapping the yacht's wooden floor with his foot. "Was one of my tsunami designs. Say the world gets flooded, we all need to live on boats. Might as well live in style, I say." He said with a sip of his own wine.
"And amen to that." MJ replied, joining him in a drink. As she placed her glass down, she noticed he had gone quiet. His head was tilted down, his eyes were hazy, and his hand was drifting closer towards his chest. She had seen it often enough with Peter… he was remembering the things he always tried so hard to forget.
"Does it still hurt?" She asked quietly, trying to snap his attention away. He paused, thinking.
"Sometimes. It's not so much the pain anymore, as much as it is the memory of the pain. The shrapnel is gone, but I can still feel it." She nodded.
"I can relate. Peter still wakes up some nights, tearing at his shirt because he thinks the Symbiote is still on him somewhere. Sometimes when he hears church bells, he gets that same look in his eyes. It's over now, but in a way it'll never really be over, will it?" She placed her hand on his, gently holding it. Tony nodded, and smiled gravely.
"You understand this pretty well, MJ. You'd make a pretty good therapist, I figure."
"Well, only if therapists can dress in black mini-dresses and kicker heels." She said with a wink. He laughed, and she laughed with him.
Then they noticed they were still holding hands.
"Did you mean what you said earlier?" Tony asked suddenly. "When you called me handsome?"
MJ blushed.
"I mean… I suppose I did. Factually speaking, you are a good-looking man."
"Well, 'factually speaking', beauty is subjective. It is, after all, in the eye of the beholder. Meaning science may say I'm handsome, but you yourself could still find me hideously unattractive. So tell me, Mary-Jane Watson, do you honestly think I'm handsome?"
MJ bit her lip. She hated trying to win arguments with geniuses, especially the self-certified ones.
"…okay, fine, I do. Happy?" She answered in anger she didn't really feel. He was handsome, it felt right to say it.
"Well, I'm glad to hear it. And I, for one, find you a very beautiful lady." He replied, running a hand through her scarlet hair. She let his hand linger, and when it dropped, she felt almost cold without his touch.
"Tony… I… I'm…" She murmured, unsure of what to say.
"You… are Miss Mary-Jane Watson, a free-spirited redhead with Broadway in her eyes, remember?" He said with a smile. "Who happens to be spending some time on a luxury yacht with one of the richest men in the world, who is willing to be honest and finds her utterly ravishing in her black dress."
He stood up, finishing his wine with one hand and fixing his hair with the other.
"Now, it's time to make a decision. And whatever it is, I'll respect it." He said firmly. "If you'd like to continue being honest with me, we can abandon dinner, retire to my room, and learn the facets of each other's form to the tune of some smooth jazz with soft lighting. However, if you happen to have a husband and aren't the type to do such a thing, then I'll understand. We can finish our meal and go about our evening however we desire. The choice is entirely up to you… Miss Mary-Jane Watson."
She sat in the bistro, looking into his soft blue eyes, feeling the passion coming from him in waves. Her mouth was dry, her legs were trembling, and her heart was pounding.
She stood up suddenly, acting purely on instinct, and grabbed Tony's lapels, pulling him into a passionate kiss. He immediately fell into the embrace, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close, their wine glasses falling as their thighs battered the table.
"So…" MJ asked as she finally broke the kiss. "Your place?"
* * *
The door to Tony's cabin closed with a hiss as they kissed furiously, neither one willing to submit to the other as they staggered their way across the carpeted floor, pulling at each other's clothes.
As Tony unbuckled his belt, MJ took the opportunity to grip her wedding ring with her free hand and slip it off, letting it fall noiselessly onto the carpet. As she was fond of saying, out of sight, out of mind.
They fell onto the bed together in a disorganised cluster of writhing limbs and grasping hands, rolling back and forth as they fought for control, finally ending with MJ on top, looking down into Tony's eyes.
As MJ continued undoing her bra, Tony revisited an old theory of his. MJ now made the fourth redhead out of all four that he had slept with who had strove to be on top at every moment. Bethany Cabe, Pepper Potts, Natasha Romanoff… and now Miss Mary-Jane Watson herself.
Before he could continue pondering his hypothesis, he heard a shuffle of fabric indicating MJ had removed her bra. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into another kiss, as she shifted her hips to better accommodate his already hard length pushing inside her.
She moaned into his mouth, her scarlet hair cascading around her face as he tugged it loose, tossing the cheap black hair-tie across the room. He placed his hands on her hips, steadying her as he buried the rest of his cock inside her.
MJ placed her hands on his shoulders, and began to ride him, setting her own speed as Tony gazed up at her, watching droplets of sweat trickle down her milky white skin in the dim light of the cabin.
Tony slid one hand around the curve of her hip and cupped her ass, giving it a light slap. MJ smiled with a growl, and rose to his challenge. She cupped both of her breasts, one in each hand, and teased her nipples with her fingers, copying the facial expressions of various porn-stars she'd seen throughout her many photoshoots.
Tony provided another sharp slap on her ass, spurring MJ on enough to elicit a delicate moan from her soft lips. She fell forwards, her mouth landing against as their tongues clashed violently.
With one final, sudden jerk of his hips, Tony let loose inside of her, feeling MJ's body tighten around him, gripping him tightly and refusing to let go. For a moment MJ's mouth opened, and Tony could have sworn he heard her say a name, but in his mid-orgasm daze he couldn't say for sure what he'd heard.
Finally they both collapsed together, panting heavily on the sweat and cum-soaked sheets.
"Outstanding performance, Mr Stark…" She purred, snuggling into the crook of his arm. "Although I was promised some smooth jazz."
"My bad." Tony said, softly kissing her forehead. "I'll remember that for next time."