Disclaimer: I don't own Spidey. An action figure yes, but Spider-Man? No.

AN: Supervillains, no matter how cunning or technically brilliant they may be, are inherently stupid. That said, this fic takes place in the classic comic (not Ultimate) universe at no specific time or place. The only real carry-over from the movies is that MJ has her Emma Rose billboard deal.

Spider-Man stopped dead in his tracks, stunned. An impressive feat when one is web-swinging across the New York skyline. He was very glad there was no one walking below to see him when he crashed into the side of that apartment building...

What startled Spider-man so badly that he almost dropped his webline was a billboard. A billboard so outrageous that Thomas Fireheart's pro-Spidey campaign, Jonah's anti-Spidey crusade, and even MJ's Emma Rose endorsement paled in comparison to the sheer shock value of the running advertisement.

The appalling ad was a promotional poster for a new electric company that would be coming in to offer competition to the city's long-standing power sources. It was a four-story high affair, plastered with a profile shot of Max Dillon's craggy face and "Dillon Electric" in huge print across the top. Out of costume, Dillon was still recognizable, but didn't look that much like his charged alter ego. Spider-Man almost didn't realize it was him at first glance, but after closer inspection, there was no doubt.

Electro, for all appearances, had gone legit and started his own business.

Never in a million years would Spider-Man have ever believed this bizarre twist of fate could actually have occurred. He was frozen, paralyzed with a triple dose of disbelief as he regarded the billboard from again from his perch on a rooftop across the street.

He couldn't believe that the city had given Electro, of all people, a green light to start a power company. He couldn't believe that Dillon had taken his advice. Most of all, Spider-Man couldn't believe that the supervillains he fought, Max at least, actually paid attention to and remembered whatever sarcastic one-liner he threw out after beating and webbing them up.

Who knew? He had always assumed they brushed it off and came back for another chance at his red and blue hide.

As he cast another glance at the offending ad, Spider-Man remembered the battle that no doubt sparked the whole chain of unsettling events.

- X -

Eight months ago, he and Electro had faced off on the top of the Empire State Building. It was a dramatic setting for the end of a dramatic fight.

That last time, Electro's aim was to rob several banks across the city and then drain New York of power, yet again, to bulk up his own reserves of cash and energy. A generally silly reason to cause citywide blackouts, panic, and riots; and an endeavor that Spider-Man foiled with several well-placed, rubber-insulated punches. Not to say it had been easy, of course.

When the electric blasts ceased, the dust settled, and all was said and done, Spider-Man sported enough burns and scorches to make him look like a "boiled lobster" as Mary Jane put it. But Electro was safely cocooned away, bound with Spidey's own special asbestos-laced formula of web fluid and lashed securely to a conveniently placed radio antenna bolted to the roof.

Spider-Man could remember exactly what he had said to the indisposed supervillain. Just earlier that day he had received the bill for the month's rent, along with a statement of what increases he'd have to pay due to the price hikes in utilities. The skyrocketing cost of living was, understandably, making him just a wee bit bitter.

"Electro, you juiced-up idiot! Why do you keep doing this? You always end up losing whatever cash you steal, so it can't be for the money."

From beneath the many layers of web came a mumbled reply that it was indeed about the money. Profit was everything.

"Why crime then? Haven't you heard it doesn't pay? Stop and think for a second. This city, this entire country is in the middle of an energy crisis right now. Have you even glanced at the price of gas in the past few months?"

Silence from inside the cocoon told Spider-Man that Electro had either not noticed, or had passed out. It hardly mattered though, he was in a mood to rant and nothing short of a pumpkin bomb to the face would stop him.

"That's the thing about you supervillains, you never think! You get absolutely nothing from robbing banks, but if you were to just go legit you could easily make millions. With your powers you could, I don't know, start your own electric company and earn an honest fortune. You could probably fuel the entire East Coast with your powers, but you waste it!"

The cocoon remained silent and still, not giving any clues as to what thoughts were running through Electro's head.

"Ah, you're probably out like a light... Oh well, I'm used to talking to myself. It's been fun Electro, but the police are on their way so I've got to run. Do me a favor, serve your time, eat all your vegetables, and start making money legally when you get out, okay? Maybe then I won't have to get all burnt up again. These costumes are expensive, you know."

- X -

Months later, Spider-Man was shocked to see how it had all worked out. Max Dillon, Electro, one of his oldest and most deadly enemies, was now a respectable businessman. It was akin to hearing that the Vulture had given up his evil ways and landed a role on Sesame Street. Odd, but good to know there was some hope for him yet.

Even thought it had been at his suggestion, he couldn't help but feel the whole mess was fundamentally wrong. However, there was some good hidden behind all of the insanity.

Thanks to Dillon's new lifestyle, Spider-Man would never have to limp home from a day of fighting covered in electrical burns ever again. No more scorched costumes and smelling of smoldering web-fluid for days afterwards. And who knows, with a new competitor in town the prices of natural gas and electricity might go down to being just barely reasonable again.

It might even be enough to bring his rent back down.

AN: "With great power comes great responsibility." And great profit, if you use it correctly and within the letter of the law. Why do the villains never get that? Doesn't the Vulture have any idea how valuable his electromagnetic flying rig would be to the military? He has a patent on it; he could be richer than he ever was as a thief! (And he was very rich at times.) Scorpion too. He may not be smart enough to design and recreate it, but the cybernetics in his costume's tail would be a dream to any company trying to design prosthetic limbs. And the Green Goblin-! ... He was already rich. Forget him.