Greetings, all who have clicked on the hyperlink to this story! This is my FIRST story on here, so please go easy on the flames... It is an OCxSpiderman kind of fanfiction, so if that isn't your cup of tea, no hard feelings..

Time for Legal Stuff: I do not own Spiderman or any affiliated characters that are part of Spiderman or Marvel what-so-ever.

"Oh, Spiderman," Amanda sighed, gazing at the stunning New York view from the top of a building. "I don't know what would have happened to me if you hadn't saved me. I know it's odd...being with such a nobody-"

"Amanda," Spiderman interrupted the girl, his hands on her hips as he pulled her closer to him, "you are far from 'nobody'. I should know, because...I'm falling in love with you."

Spiderman cautiously raised his mask just above his lips...pulled Amanda close, and whispered-

"ACER! GET IN HERE NOW!"

Jessica Acer was startled back to reality, thanks to the overly volumized command of J. Jonah Jameson, her boss and publisher for The Daily Bugle, which was-in his eyes-the most popular newspaper since 'some lonely schmuck invented the selfie stick'. She exited out of her web browser and shut down her laptop in a hurry, following the putrid cigar scent that lingered it's way through the building and into his office. "Y-you-erm-barked for me, sir?"

"There's a burglary at Sixth and Fourths bank. I need you to get on that! Get pictures before police barricade the scene!"

"Were you eavesdropping on the police scanner again?"

"You say 'eavesdrop', I say 'lending a hand to the good people in my city by,' erm, 'finding stories to educate them about our city and make me money in the process.' It's also called, 'getting a photographer off her tush and in the real world rather than reading fictional gunk online.' The only thing you should be reading is-"

"I know, I know,...'the Daily Bugle or Help Wanted ads'," Jessica groaned, quoting a repetitious complaint from her boss.

"Now get going! Grab that camera and GO GO GO!"

Without saying another word, Jessica hurried out of the smoke ridden office, snatched her camera from her desk, and scurried out the door, the cold October wind greeting her as she ran down the steps and towards the bank.

"S-s-should've grabbed m-m-my coat," she complained through chattering teeth, cursing herself for not thinking before running out into the cold. Growing up in Florida, she was used to warmer climates...not the frost-bitten nights and chances of blizzard warnings. "At least it's not snowing yet...and the bank is only a few blocks," she thought to herself, as if the encouraging words would warm her bones. As if the sounds of her chattering teeth were nothing more than excitement for getting such a good story. "Who am I kidding?" Jessica thought. "The roads are probably blocked and the entrance is most likely surrounded by police." As she thought of the problem, she heard gunshots a few blocks before the bank.
There probably wasn't a call on whatever was going on...maybe the bank was a distraction! With a new form of motivation, she quickened her step, until she reached Fillerton Ave, and slipped inside the building where gunshots were heard. The area was unfinished, dusty and dirty. Cardboard boxes were piled up against the walls with torn wallpaper. Jessica pulled her long, red hair in a messybun, a habit she got into before taking pictures.

"Just keep it cool. Get your pictures, your story, and leave," she whispered to herself, wondering what was going on as she silently crept through the dusty halls. She always was curious of everything that happened, which was why she originally wanted to be a reporter. Jameson said he had enough reporters, not enough photographers. She was good with a camera, so she took the job, with the thoughts that one day…

"What….on….Earth…?" Jessica stared at a picture frame hanging on the wall.

Normally, that wouldn't be strange. However, this frame held no picture. Jessica approached the frame with caution and observed the small cardboard attached to the wall. Curious, she lifted the cardboard and not only noticed it was a flap, but it was covering two eye slots.

"What kind of place has cut out eyes in the walls?" she whispered aloud, doing most of her thinking that way. She knew something was not right...she could feel it in her gut...maybe it was because of all the cop shows she watched, and how the detectives seemed to know something was hinky. But how-

"-?!" From the other side of the wall, she heard people talking in rushed, panicked tones. Curious, she peered through the eye holes. She was looking right into an office; there was a large oak desk covered in papers and an old rotary phone, a bookshelf that covered what seemed the entire wall opposite of where she was looking, and a coat rack decorated in a few feathery boas. "What kind of office is this?!" Jessica thought to herself. The voices she heard came from two square looking thugs with green goblin masks on. One of them ripped off his mask, and Jessica saw a huge scar curved like a 'J' on the right side of his face.

"I can't breathe in that damn thing," the one complained, scratching his bald head. "Charlie, you sure what we're looking for is in-?" The other guy mumbles something, but it was incoherent. "What?! Take off that stupid thing. Ain't no one here!"

The second thug slumped his shoulders and eventually ripped off his mask, too. He had short, black hair and a tattoo of a cross decorated in roses on his neck. "I said, 'Boss said check every room.' The ingredient has to be here somewhere. Five minutes, Mick," Charlie looked down at his watch as she quickly rushed to the bookcase, throwing down every book he could.

Mick was soon out of her line of sight. Jessica kept watching Charlie toss books off the shelf when suddenly Mick's face was close to whatever frame she was peering from. She remained perfectly still, holding her breath as he leaned in close.

"I didn't know someone painted Madonna with green eyes," Mick said, admiring the picture. "I always thought she had blue eyes...but you gotta give it to the artist, he's got talent! It looks so real…"

"MICK! FOCUS!" Charlie seethed. "They only got three minutes to get outta the bank… remember, that was just a distraction so no one would come here-"

"But those guards-"

"Wrong place, wrong time," Charlie shrugged the subject off. "Look, I didn't kill them! They're just unconscious...get back to work!"

With Mick not looking at the painting, Jessica closed the cardboard flap and followed the hall, seeing more patches of cardboard in different spots on the walls. She quickly peeked through each one. There were a few more offices...a room with poker chips and cards...the third cardboard patch struck luck when she saw the unconscious security guards.

"There's gotta be a door...secret passage...something," she thought to herself as she looked around. Sure enough, there was a patch of wall that wasn't brick, but an entire bookcase. "This is just like in those movies," she thought to herself as she pushed the right side forward. Just as she guessed, it pushed open like a spiral door. She hurried to the security guards and knelt down by them. "Wake up...wake up!" she hissed, continuously glancing for anymore thugs. She heard radio chatter coming from another unconscious guard, and scurried over to the body. He was laying on a radio! She carefully lifted his side and grabbed the radio.

"Mayday...Mayday!" she whispered through the radio. "Uh, Rodger, Dodger! Calling all cars! There's a break in on Fillerton-"

"HEY, YOU!" a voice yelled. She looked up and saw Mick, gun in his hand, pointed at her. "Drop it, kid. Nice...and slow."