A quiet day... so far.

Mary Jane had a few days off of her encounter with Nick Katzenberg. She thought to herself, *could it be over?*

Despite anything with Katzenberg, things still needed to get done around their apartment. A good way to clear her mind would be to lose herself in some mindless house chores.

After cleaning the dishes and vacuuming the floors, MJ grabbed a basket of laundry and took off for the basement where the coin-operated machine washers were located.

She bemoaned the fact Peter never has to clean his Spidey-suit. At this point, she knew how to get goo, blood, and slime out of just about anything.

"Look at this," she said as she raised one of his main costumes, "... caked in sand. He must've had some fight with Sandman, or... he was playing hooky at Coney Island... most likely eating hot dogs on the beach," she laughed.

Absentmindedly, she continued to fill the washers. She tossed in blankets, shirts, dresses, all sorts of dirty laundry. Until she hit the bottom of the basket. There, staring right back at her were the soiled black lace panties, crumpled up but exposed like her guilt.

She reached down and with repulsed fingers, pulled them up from the depths of their burial ground. Crusted hard with Katzenberg semen, she rubbed at it, feeling the fabric now stained forever... even if it did get washed. Either way, she would always associate that garment with her one unfortunate night with Nick Katzenberg.

With a curious mind she pulled it in close to her face. She wanted to smell it. She wondered about her assaulter's stain. Was there something different about Katzenberg? Why was he so large... down there? What would it be like....?

No!

No. She wouldn't allow herself to think that. Before she knew it, the soiled garment was at her lips, her mouth close to tasting it.

"Hey Honey...what're you up to?" A voice came from behind her.

Quickly, MJ pivoted around smiling, her hand with the panty shoved inside her tight jean pocket.

"N-nothing. Ha ha... Just doing the glamorous laundry work Tiger."

Peter moved in to hug her, "Awww... everything my hot model wife does is glamorous....laundry, cleaning toilets, burning dinner..."

"Hey!" Mary Jane piped up. "You're no Gordon Ramsey yourself," she laughed.

Peter smiled and kissed her gently on the lips.

"Hey... what's that?" he asked.

"What?" MJ responded looking around.

"In your pocket... there..."

MJ feeling nervous, dug her hand in her pocket. Burying the evidence as far down as she could, she tugged out another item.

"Oh! My phone... it was on silent, but I think I'm getting a call."