Gwen Stacey shut off the Television and tuned out the world as she looked over her options for the night. A small white dress called out to her. One that showed too much cleavage and if she bent over, her lace panties as well. She reached for it, but hesitated right before she could grab it. Even if this dress was too tight, too showing, too everything, it was the wrong color. She didn't deserve to wear white anymore. Not since….

She began her search again, avoiding anything so pure as the white dress. Black? Gwen considered her options there. A black suede skirt seemed to find its way into her shaking hand. This one had history, she had worn this the first time she had gone out. The first time she followed the inadequate feelings into the dark heart of the city. The mini skirt hadn't even made it off her body. It just been shoved up and out of the way as a man she didn't even remember pushed her against a wall. No. Not this one. She really should burn it, but Gwen couldn't bring herself to do it. She needed the reminder of where she was now. Who she was now.

Gwen let the material slip from her grasp, instead reaching for a grey leather skirt. Grey was a good color for her. Grey like the walls of the many clubs she had been to. Grey like the dingy alleyways and bathrooms she had visited. Grey, like dirty snow that had once been pure and clean and white. Now grey from the dirt of the city, just like her. She slipped into the skirt, found a matching camisole and dug out a pair of silver stilettos. She was ready.

Gwen allowed herself a moment to compose herselfand ignored the black thoughts that squirmed in her mind. Stepping out onto the curb, she hailed a taxi as she went out into the night again searching for something

XXxxxxx

The music was pounding and Gwen Stacy was pounding…. pounding drinks. Her sexy looks ensured that she didn't spend any time at all waiting in the endless line that stretched in front of the club entrance. Good thing too, the neighbourhood was rough and the clientele was suspect at best. Luckily she had consumed enough liquid courage before she got in the cab that brought her here that she really didn't care much about where the new club was located.

The rougher…the better. Maybe if my father had cared a little less about the city and its inhabitants he would still be around.

She tossed back another sip of her cosmopolitan, shutting her eyes against the heavy smoke and flashing lights of the club as she let the beat find her. She felt a whisper of a touch on her arm and had to suppress a knowing smirk. When she opened her eyes she found a man at her elbow. He slapped down a fifty-dollar bill and motioned for the bartender to bring her another drink. Well that didn't take long… honestly… it never did…

She flipped back her hair and gave him a slight nod of her head in acknowledgement. Her hair was longer now… darker blonde. Dirtier. All of her seemed dirtier now. She watched the man beside her take a lock of her hair and twirl the soft curl around his fingertip as he leered openly at her. And I am getting dirtier still…

Her stomach lurched and Gwen realized she wasn't quite drunk enough. Not for this guy anyway.

"I haven't seen you here before." His voice was pretentious and his smile insincere. Even his teeth were fake, caps and veneers... a façade to cover inadequacies... Lawyer… I'd bet money on it… Ivy League more than likely. Dad would have hated this jackass. That fact alone was almost enough to make Gwen want to take him to bed. Who needed a bed? Not me. I have proven that over and over these Few past months.

She scouted the bar for the restrooms –tucked away in corners, and then frowned when her eyes came back to the man at her side. This douche isnt what I came here for. She pulled her hair away from him and slid his money back across the bar him, "I'm good. Thanks anyways."

He gaped at her like she had slapped him. The look of surprise morphed into anger then controlled contempt. Gwen caught the smirk from the bartender as she accepted the fresh drink, "Tab this for me,Cletus"

The man nodded knowingly and then looked at the man standing next to her, "His too."

there was a lilt to his words, an accent – Brooklyn,southern perhaps– that sounded out of place in the darkness of the bar. Or perhaps it fit too well for the theme of edgy and alternative. He had a soft face, a slight uptilt to his lips that that bespoke the beginning of a smile. A smile that grew as she blinked for a moment before nodding. Small creases sprung in the corners of his eyes – affable. That was the impression afforded.

It was difficult to get a gauge of him in the confusion of the bar, but she could discern a feature here and there as he moved, as he turned and set about mixing the cocktails with a well-practices shake of his arms that drew the tattoos wrought across his skin to life.

red hair likely made darker for the harsh lights of the club, a dark sheen giving the suggestion of a lighter red in daylight. His forehead crinkled slightly, eyebrows lowering slightly as he dropped his attention to his work, full lips pursing slightly in concentration. The angle, the motion of his shaking and working, cast disjointed shadows across his face, emphasizing high cheekbones and turning smooth and pale that which the faintest speckling suggested were freckles. She couldn't help but stare.

Gwen shook her head in answer to his question, confident that Clet us would have no issue in informing the suit next to her that they would be going Dutch tonight.

He didn't let her down, he looked the guy over with the same disapproval she had felt and folded his arms over his chest, "Fifteen dollars.'

The man slid his fifty over to the bartender and he said, "I'm buying her drink."

The bartender looked at the young woman again and sighed, "Wall Street, do I really need to be the one to tell you to fuck off or is her body language not enough for you?"

Gwen's eyes widened and she focused down on her drink rather than at the reddening skin of the man next to her as he visibly shook with rage at the comment. "Fuck you and fuck this place." He shoved the fifty at the bartender and left the bar.

The young man smiled and pocketed the cash and gave a wink to Gwen. "I just got tipped for telling a guy to fuck off. It might be my lucky night after all." He gave her a suggestive wink and favoured himself with an eyeful of her tits before swaggering back down the bar to pour for the clambering crowd.

As he worked the crowd, he kept them coming for her, even as the club filled to capacity around her. She had felt his eyes on her more than a few times as she danced and mingled and she liked it. It made her feel protected… desired.

She had been dancing and drinking for the better part of two hours when the heat and the alcohol finally starting getting to top her. The temperature of the club had warmed as it filled with the late night partiers. Gwen thought vaguely of stepping outside for some air, but a June night in New York wouldn't have offered any relief to the heat that had her hair damp and her clothes sticking to her moist skin.

She looked down at herself and snickered. There weren't a lot of clothes to get stuck. The grey camisole she wore clung to her curves and showed off her breasts, her skirt was grey, leather, and very short. None of it was really her, not who she used to be anyway.

Gone were the cute colourful ensembles she wore to class as a girl, replaced now by a darker, grittier wardrobe fit for a woman on the make. Her look was designed to invite attention from men she normally would have made it a point to avoid. Things changed sometimes… people changed… I've changed.

She invited the attention now. Needed it in fact. She wanted men looking, hell if it was the right man she wanted him touching too. She downed her drink and wrestled her thoughts away from the dark dangerous memories that plagued her mind. I am different now. I'm not the same sweet little Gwen anymore. Not that anyone would notice, or even care.

She felt a hand at her back and she didn't even react when it slid lower, covering her ass. The hand flexed and squeezed her rear.

This night might be looking up. She had picked up on a guy checking her out earlier. He was sitting at a table with his boys and he had been giving her signals all night. He was grungy, edgy… and exactly who she had been waiting for. This bar had delivered after all.

Hell I thought I was going to have to wait for Cletus to close this place down to finally land a bad boy. She turned around and saw the lawyer. His suit jacket had disappeared and his shirt had lost a few buttons at his throat, but it was him, and his hand was very much on her ass.

It finally came to her why she detested him; he reminded her of Peter. It was nothing about his looks and he obviously had money –unlike Peter, it was the smarmy cocky manner of his. It reminded her of the date she had with Peter that night at the jazz club. What a disaster, he had made me feel so… dirty, so used.

Gwen Stacy was wasted, but the thought of Peter and the feel of this bastard touching her was enough to cause bile to rise up in her throat. She stood off the stool and shoved him away. Her voice failed her as she tried to find words strong enough to voice how repellent she found him, but he was back on her before she could process her thoughts.

He had her pushed back against the bar, sandwiching her between his body and the unforgiving steel of the countertop. In the crush of people around them his actions were lost as his hand squeezed her breast and she felt him lifting the hem of her skirt. His breath was strong from the scotch and his hands fumbled from its effects as well.

Gwen looked over her shoulder trying to call out to the bartender for help.

Suddenly she was free. She saw a flash of black, as Wall Street flew backwards across the dance floor. The crowd erupted with excitement and circled around the brawl.

She glimpsed the action between the shoulders of the cheering crowd enough to see the two swift punches delivered. She saw the effects of these hits as thousands of dollars in dental work scattered over the dance floor. There was a groan of collective sympathy for Wall Street before a cheer of appreciation went up for the violent sceptical they had been afforded.

Bouncers poured onto the floor and struggled to move through the ring of onlookers. The man that had delivered the beating was gone as quickly as he appeared, the spectators ahead of him parted and he walked calmly into their ranks and they closed in behind him, effectively insulating him from the investigating workers.

Gwen jumped when a hand touched her shoulder, she turned and met the cool intense eyes of the bartender, "You alright Gwen?"

She looked at him in confusion, "How did you know my –"

He pulled her credit card out of his pants pocket with a smirk, "Off your card."

She nodded, embarrassed; she had completely forgotten leaving it with him to secure her tab. They were interrupted as the bouncers dragged Wall Street from the floor; he was conscious now, and in obvious pain.

Gwen swallowed and pressed a hand to her throat as she tried to calm herself, "You had better tab me out."

His face darkened and he looked as if he was going to suggest an alternative to that when her attention was again diverted. She felt an arm encircle her waist. Here is my grungy bad boy. You finally got the courage to come over and meet me…just in time.

He kissed her without hesitation, his tongue forcing into her mouth as his arms tightened on her waist.

Gwen's mind spun, as they broke apart. He was young and tall over six four and had on a black t-shirt with Sanctum printed in crimson across the front. She tried to extricate herself from his grasp but he held her still, "I have been watching you tonight, baby girl. I've been waiting my turn."

Gwen swallowed hard as he pushed forward to taste her mouth again before slipping his lips to her ear. He held her in a vice grip even as she tried half heartily to push him away, "A little girl like you in a place like this, I have to believe you are here to meet a man like me." He licked his bottom lip and smiled.

She softened in his hands and allowed him to pull her into him, grinding himself against her. He was what she wanted, someone that was dark and dangerous and absolute poison to her. This is what I deserve. He slid his hand to her ass and held her tight against his straining erection, "Let's fuck baby girl. I know a place."

Gwen felt another piece of her die when she nodded and let him pull her from the barstool and lead her out the back exit of the club. They walked down the alley and she felt her pulse quicken, her heart was racing and she felt the neediness and excitement of the evening culminating. Dirty and dangerous was exactly what she had wanted to drive the nothingness from her heart. Filling the darkness with pain and shame until she was certain to be unrecognizable to anyone that knew her before. I am different now …everything is different now.

He pushed her roughly up against the brick wall of the building and she lost her balance as her shoe slipped off. She tried to tell him to wait, she wanted to fix her shoe -lord only knew what was in that alley- when she found her mouth covered with his. She gave in, but held her foot off the ground. Gwen could tell he was kissing her in a way he thought was passionate, but really involved too much tongue. Enough was enough, she tried to push away, but her movements were sluggish. That last drink had been one to many. She hadn't been this drunk in longer than she cared to admit, even to herself.

When he didn't move away at her gentle shove, Gwen pushed harder. He still didn't move. She opened her eyes wide and her gaze darted around the very empty alley. Feeling her head spin with the combination of alcohol and panic, she tried to push him again. This time had more effect, he pulled away, just enough for her to read the lettering on his shirt.

Sanctum.

He leaned into her again, his lips clumsy against her ear as her whispered, "I have a little surprise for you baby girl." His lips moved to her neck and her hands were on his chest again. His words made her shudder, the shuffling footsteps at the end of the grimy alley formed a tight ball of terror in her chest. Enough to briefly fight off the debilitating effects the alcohol was having on her. Gwen pushed him back, and when he angrily moved towards her again, her daddy's defense lessons rose to the forefront of her mind. She tilted her head back and snapped it forward, connecting solidly with his nose. She heard him give a yell at the satisfying crunch. Blood pooled in his hands as he held them under his chin trying to stop the flow.

"Oh, you made a mistake baby girl." He told her thickly, and moved back so she could see who the approaching footsteps belonged too. His four buddies were laughing as they approached the pair of them. Gwen pressed herself into the rough brick of the building behind her. A latent instinct kicking in trying to convince her drunken mind that if she pressed hard enough, she would disappear. Her head was pounding and she felt sick. She couldn't bring herself to open her mouth to call for help. Gwen wanted her daddy, mentally she was screaming, pleading with him to save her. Promising she would be his good girl again, anything if he would save her.

"Jesus Wade." One of them said as the formed a loose half circle enclosing the pair. "This little tramp really did a number on your face."

Another one laughed at Wade's glare. "You fuck her last. I'm not screwing her after you've bled on her."

Gwen felt her stomach hitch and her legs were on the verge of collapse as icy fear gripped her. Another voice, deeper than the others, from further down the alley called out "I was planning on getting a piece of that tonight myself, and I'm not following up behind any of you rapist motherfuckers."

Gwen's chin lifted as she peered into the darkness towards that voice… that familiar voice.

It all happened so quickly she barely had time to register any of it. The four men rushed into the darkness and she saw her opportunity to escape. If I can make it back to the bar I can get help, get the police… I know one of them was named Wade…the shirts, Sanctum –possibly a band? I can ID all of them.

She struggled to clear her head, forcing herself to think, if only to try and save the man that came for her. But it was not to be. Wade brought her down before she had stumbled more than a few feet.

Wade smirked down at the woman beneath him. I know my boys. One guy in an alley wouldn't take one of them to handle, much less than all four so I might as well take my turn now. They will be in a hell of a mood when they get done kicking that fucker's ass. There won't be anything left of this whore when they get finished with her.

He hissed in her ear as she pressed her down to the ground, "You think you can bite me you little bitch. You fucking broke my nose you little slut. Now …I'm gonna show you pain."

Gwen gasped as his hands forced up her skirt and he pinned her under him with his weight barring down against the back of her neck. She forced her eyes open, looking in desperation down the alley as she heard the struggle of the brawling men.

Someone tried to save me, I hope they don't hurt him, he was just trying to help…he doesn't deserve… She heard her underwear rip more than she felt the fabric tear away from her skin, and she realized that she was going numb. It was like none of this was even happening. Either the drug was affecting her or her mind was going into a self-preservation shut down as she became emotionally disconnected from her body.

She barely registered the sound of footfalls as a figure ran toward her. She saw a flash of black jeans and then her vision narrowed and she saw only lug-heeled boots slamming down on the concrete. The sound echoed in her ears not really keeping time with the footfalls.

Everything seemed to slip further away and her last realization was that her legs were being forced apart…

When he hit them it was like time sped up and she was snapped back into reality. Wade was launched off her and she was buried for a moment under the crushing weight of the two men as they wrestled. The crazy frenzy beside her was primal and brutal as the two men fought.

Wade. His name was Wade. Sanctum…Sanctum. She whispered the names to herself over and over as she tried to crawl free from the fray. She needed to remember his face, his name to tell the police.

Wade was pummelling the man under him. They wrestled and then several punches were volleyed back. Hard positioning shots that were delivered like a trip hammer directly to Wade's face from the man beneath him.

Wade faltered under the attack and tried to pull free from the man only to find him being held firmly by the front of his black t-shirt. He tried to block the incoming blows and pulled away in a desperate attempt to escape the punishment. When he jerked to the side the man under him used his momentum to unseat him.

Gwen scooted further away as she slid her leather skirt back in place and struggled to recover herself. She tried and failed several times to get to her feet.

The men were in a tangle now with their backs to her, but Wade now had the disadvantage as the man in black topped him. She could tell the man was shorter than Wade, but he was powerful. His shoulders were muscular and broad. Even through the black blazer he wore Gwen could see the bulge of the sleeves as his biceps strained the fabric.

Gwen knew Wade wasn't getting up; he wasn't even fighting back now. He had curled himself into a ball as the blows rained down relentlessly. She watched, her eyes widening as she realized the man that had saved her was going to beat Wade to death.

She crawled forward; not trusting her legs to hold her, her hands reached for his arm. He jerked away from her hand; turning aggressively he captured her arm in a vice grip.

He froze as he realized it wasn't one of the other men. His lips lifted into a knowing smirk, "You're interrupting me in the middle of delivering this ass kicking, Gwen."

Her lips parted in disbelief and she whispered out the only word that seemed to be left in her vocabulary, "Eddie…" It was a question, a plea… a thank you. All communicated with just his name.

He stood, leaving her gaping as she crouched beside the devastated remnants of the would-be-rapist. Breathing in great heaves he glared down at her, oblivious to the pain, fear and gratitude that must have shown in her eyes, "Gwen." Her name dropped from his lips was an accusation, a judgment…a regret.

Her eyes lowered as her face burned as she realized what he must think of her. Her fingers smoothed down the torn fabric of her leather skirt and her other arm crossed over her chest. The little grey camisole had torn and the strap hung loosely exposing the top swell of her left breast. She was bruised and covered in grime from the street.

He must think I got what I deserved… "I'm…so sorry, Eddie… I didn't." Her voice trailed off as words failed her. She heard the sounds of the sirens in the distance.

Gwen looked down at the fallen man and the realization of the severity of the beating Eddie had given him hit home and her stomach clinched, "You should go. Go… I won't say I knew you," Tears fell from her eyes as she stammered out the words.

She felt his jacket cover her shoulders as his hands lifted her to her feet. She didn't look at him as he helped her slip her arms into the sleeves. The black button down he wore under the blazer was worse for wear as it was torn and missing buttons down to his abdomen.

His chest heaved from the exertion and she focused on the rhythmic rise and fall of his muscled abdomen. Jesus, he is huge. She glanced at his arms; the sleeves were pulled tight over the muscular biceps. Eddie had never looked this way before. Just months ago he had been just a regular guy and then he disappeared, and now…he isn't even the same person… but then again neither am I.

She felt him pulling her along the alley and she stumbled after him. He glanced down at her and paused before dropping her hand and stalking back to the fallen man. He glanced around the area and then gave Wade a solid kick to the ribs.

The man flipped over and Brock stooped and collected her silver pump from where it had lain under him. He walked purposefully up to Gwen and she recoiled slightly as he dropped to his knees. She felt his hand on her calf and she flinched as he lifted her foot.

She felt his hand brush off the bottom of her sole, the clinging stones and dirt cleansed before the expensive leather pump was slipped back over her toes. He straightened and she felt his hands travel up her leg as he stood. Her breath caught in her throat as his rough palm passed over her ass, and then he was pulling her down the alley again away from the scene …away from the approaching police.

Xxxxx

Gwen followed along behind him as he moved them through the alley ways, deeper into the inner city. She was sobering now as the fresh air and adrenalin cleared her muddled mind. She clutched tighter to Eddie's hand as she realised she didn't know where she was, feeling hopelessly turned around.

Blinking back tears as she tried to reconcile the events of the evening. She focused on Eddie. The quick glimpses she had of him by the street lights had furthered her understanding that something dramatic had happened to him.

Months back he had just dropped off the face of the earth. She had heard through several people including Peter that he had been terminated from the paper. Something about having faked photos of Spiderman and then just… nothing. No sighting of him, just …nothing. She had told her father about it and he had opened a missing person's case on him. It yielded no more than a random sighting of him at a church near his old apartment and that lead had never panned out.

She had thought about Eddie often in the weeks that passed after her ill-fated date with Peter. The semester at school had wound down and she and Pete had parted on somewhat better terms.

He had apologized for his behaviour at the jazz club, chalking it up to his distress over having recently broken up with MJ. She had understood or at least she had told him that she had. In truth Peter had made her feel used and cheap. That was a feeling that she had become quite accustomed to as of late… cheap…used… second-rate.

She hitched a breath and tugged at Eddie's hand, "Can you slow down please." Her leg was really starting to bother her now. She had gone down hard when that cretin tackled her and her muscles in her thigh were starting to stiffen and cramp.

Brock looked back at her and tugged her along, "We're almost there."

She had to remind herself not to argue –he was the man that had saved her, when his voice came so hard and he fixed her with his unreadable eyes. Gwen hesitated a moment when he turned into an old brownstone, resisting being lead away from the street.

He looked down at her and sneered, "Stay out here if you prefer it then, Gwen. You look dressed for the street anyway." His eyes dropped down over her outfit and she saw a mix of disdain and thinly veiled lust.

He walked through the door. It had no handle so Brock merely shoved it aside as he lumbered through the tight passage. Gwen blinked and hesitated a moment longer, casting a glance over her shoulder as she tried to find her bearings and decide what she should do.

She heard a door open above her head and she stepped in further, her eyes straining to see where he had disappeared to. She could see a thin strip of light emanating from a door on the second landing.

She climbed the stairs hesitantly, the pain in her hip flaring as she was forced to put all of her weight on the distressed leg. She took the steps slowly, but by the time she reached the landing she was sweating and panting. She pressed at her side and winced, not realising she had taken a blow there as well.

Gwen knocked gently on the steel door before she entered. Not waiting for a response, she took as deep a breath as her side would allow and then pushed inside the unlatched door.

A low growl met her advances and she felt her blood run cold as a huge beast of a dog advanced upon her. She shrank back from the door into the hall and the dog followed. It was a Rottweiler.

She knew the breed from her time spent at the department. The police used them in the canine division. They were terrifying dogs and this one was living up to the breed's standard. What little traces of alcohol were left in her system, were flushed out by the new surge of adrenalin that flooded her bloodstream.

"Eddie?" her voice was nearly a whisper as she called to him for help as the dog's low growl set her hair standing on end.

A shadow crossed in front of the low light of the apartment. Brock's voice, familiar in its cadence but lower in register than she remembered, "Apollo."

The name was spoken sharply in reprimand and it stopped the dog. It cringed slightly at the abrupt reproof from its master. Flattening its ears back against its skull it sat immediately onto its haunches and blinked an apology. "Get back." The rough command had the dog moving swiftly across the floor of the apartment.

Gwen swallowed down the tightness in her throat and exhaled the breath that had caught. She hesitated as she tried to decide for the second time if she should enter the apartment.

Her eyes followed Eddie's movement through the doorway. He had disappeared out of view and she was left now to face down the enormous dog that had accosted her not seconds before. It rested now on a stack of blankets in the corner of the room and looked at her with forced disinterest as she slipped quietly into the room.

Gwen tentatively pressed the door behind her, her back still resting against the jam as she considered her options. Her eye caught motion as Brock walked across the expanse of the entryway. Her breath caught again as she watched him pull off his shirt and toss it carelessly onto the floor of the apartment.

Her eyes widened as she took in the obvious change in Eddie. He really was huge. Before he had been just a skinny kid trailing around after her begging for attention, now… her eyes slid over him and she felt bereft when he moved again and the passageway blocked her view.

She stepped quietly into the studio apartment. It was bigger then she thought it would be, looking at it now it had to encompass the entire third level of the building.

It was starkly decorated. Her eyes travelled the dark room and she identified a bed under the windows and a photo studio on the other with a view of the midtown skyline. There were back drops and an editing table with photo layouts covering the wall. She felt a pang of jealousy when she noticed the sexy models featured in the works. Where did that come from? She looked away from the blank and judging stares of the models. Before her eyes could reach the floor, they caught on a book set haphazardly on the editing table. It was hard to see and with a glance at Eddie to make sure he was still busy, Gwen stepped closer.

Almost against her will, her eyes traveled up to look at the blank eyes of the models above her. She felt there was some knowledge there, something she was missing that that photographed faces were trying to tell her.

A harsh sound made her jump and her attention was again focused on Eddie as he poured dog food into a steel pan. Her eyes roamed over him as he moved soundlessly across the kitchen. The lack of walls in the room gave the living area a strange intimacy that was unnerving. She was effectively standing in his bedroom, his office, his kitchen, and his photography studio. I feel like a voyeur… an outsider. I should go now…

Her eyes reflexively shifted to the rumpled sheets of his bed and she felt the heat rise in her cheeks. She quickly dropped her eyes to the floor, focusing on the hard wood beneath her feet. It was worn and dark from traffic over the countless years and tenants before. Out of her peripheral vision she saw Eddie turn away and her eyes lifted again to him and she greedily drank in the sight of his back.

He definitely wasn't a boy anymore. His back had broadened into a muscular V and his shoulders and biceps were cut and defined. He was a living tribute to the countless hours he must have spent in the gym.

Still, is it even possible to get that big in only a few months?

His soft, tanned skin stretched gently across his firm body. the muscles in his back rippled as he opened a cupboard. He instinctively rolled his neck around, the muscles flexed before his head made its way around to her face, and she dropped her eyes. He moved to another cupboard, his back to her, she watched his reflection in the kettle.

His abs swirled around in the sea of chrome, his pecs swelled before they were compressed. She observed his body become distorted, fascinated, wanting to reach out and see what she could do. The things she could do to it...

She saw his shoulder twitch. He had an itch. He reached over and scratched himself. His deft fingers ran along the rise in skin over his shoulder blade. His nails dragged themselves over his skin, making barely visible red lines.

Is that the best you can do, big boy? I think you might need a hand with that.

She pictured her own sharp nails replacing his clipped ones, cleaving their way into the soft covering, finding the firm element beneath. They would linger over every part, exploring his back and would bore into him as he plunged into her. They would cling desperately to the skin, leaving crescent marks, scattered from losing and regaining her grip due to the violent vibrations of her body.

His hand travelled down to his lower back, she pictured her hand replacing his again, except his back was covered in sweat. Her nails struggled to hold on to the slippery surface. Her fingers trembling as he rammed into her, his breath seething through the sheen of moisture on her neck as she moaned incessantly. His breath would be followed by his tongue, vibrating as he groaned at the taste of her salty desperation. It would make its way down her neck to her left breast, rolling over the perfect mound, teasing her hardened peak before his teeth found it and she would beg for more.

Gwen stepped forward, no longer wary, her intrigue had her feet moving and her eyes trained on him, wanting to see all of him. Eddie dug a plastic cup into a bag of dog food, scooping out another large serving of dry dog food. The sound of the dry kibble had the dog standing at attention awaiting the command that would release him from his banished state.

Brock's eyes flicked over Gwen as she walked closer to the bar, he noticed immediately her limp as she moved and his eye went to her leg. The beginnings of a bruise were clearly visible under the hem of her skirt. Her legs are scratched and knees scraped from where the bastard had pushed her down in the alley. She is lucky that was all she came away with; if I hadn't been there she could be lying dead in that alley. At best she would have be raped and beaten.

He threw the cup in disgust and slammed down the lid of the metal trashcan that held the kibble. "Come!" His sharp command effectively halted her in her tracks and brought the dog forward.

The dog passed by her without a second glance, his attention riveted to the promise of food. Brock set the pan on the floor and when he straightened he smirked as he felt her eyes on his body. He kept his face downturned, watching the dog as it ate.

Go ahead and look all you want, Gwenny. I put a shitload of work into this body, so you go ahead and appreciate it. Later I will show it to you up-close and you will be showing your appreciation to me in another way.

He watched out of the corner of his eye as she finally reached the counter that defined the perimeter of the kitchen. He felt her eyes on his chest. Only the narrowest of margins kept him from touching the dark shadow that resided there. He could feel the pulsing of the dark matter. It is weaker now, but only because I demand that it stays in its place. I am the master, I am the controller… I have all of the control now… it performs for me… it is me. The darkness had saved me from the blast and I allowed it a home in me, we are truly symbiotic now…

He heard her voice say his name he had to force himself not to react immediately, his days of skulking around after Gwen Stacy were over. The fact he had followed her into that club was irrelevant. He had seen her on his way home and he had been intrigued, that was all. The fact she was acting like a two-bit hooker in that club hadn't mattered to him in the least. He flexed his hand as it balled into a fist and his forearm strained with the effort as the cords and veins stood out under his skin.

It isn't my business who she fucked. She looked ready to do about anyone in the place to tell the truth. He had finished a beer and was about to get the fuck out of there before he had to watch her hook up with the piece of shit finance fag at the bar when he saw him get handled by the bartender. That had gotten his attention. Who was that fucker? Brock had slid back down into his seat and ordered another beer as he watched over her with cold, calculating eyes.

Brock hadn't believed it when the number cruncher bastard staggered up to the bar to try his luck again. He had slipped along after him just in case. Good thing I did. The bastard had put his fucking hands on her. Unbelievable. That little-dicked bastard had actually touched Gwen. Son of a bitch.

Brock hadn't even realised he was moving until the man was on the floor and he had rocked him with two devastating rights. He didn't even look back after, he just stood, adjusted his blazer and walked calmly back to his table.

I should have left. They were probably calling the cops on me and then wouldn't there be a damn free-for-all if the cops tried to arrest me? It was bound to happen eventually, but I preferred later rather than sooner. I have a temper, some of which is natural and some of it is… well, some of it is still… residual from the dark matter.

His hand had touched his chest just below the black mass over his heart. He told himself again that he should have left but any thoughts he had of doing that had dissipated hours before when the group of fucksticks at a table next to him had started talking about Gwen. They had gone into graphic detail about what they wanted to do to her. To tell the truth it wasn't anything that he himself hadn't wanted to do to her; things he'd fantasised doing to her while he beat off like a madman nearly every fucking night of his life.

But that was different. Those fuckers didn't give a shit about her.

He had stopped and given himself the hard reminder that he didn't give a fuck about her either but, when the men had stood and he realised that one of them was already gone he felt the panic seize him. He had followed the group out of the bar and said a silent prayer that he wasn't too late to stop it from happening.

Gwen was in real trouble.

Knowing that she had gone willingly with that fucking longhaired bastard had been all that I could take. She wanted to fuck him! I should leave her to him and his boys. It would serve her right for acting like a tramp. I don't know what the hell she is trying to do …why she had starting acting this way? Debasing herself…

He had been arguing it all in his mind as he stalked the men down the alley. His legs were running as he heard her cry for help. Then he had heard the low growl of his own voice, "Those motherfuckers had better pray to God they didn't hurt her. I will kill every last one of them."

"Eddie…" She called his name again and his lip twitched as he came out of the memory. His eyes lifted and he looked at her coldly. Emotionless. I can do emotionless. I have done emotionless because of you, Gwen Stacy, because that is what you have reduced me to…

Gwen looked at him wide-eyed as she processed the shape on his chest. A spider, the long legs of the design arched over his perfectly formed chest and curled down over his ribs. The tattoo looks fresh, it might even be infected. It looks painful… She swallowed and looked up into his dark eyes, "Are you? I mean you can't be the… can you?"

Brock laughed, "Spiderman? No Gwen. I'm not Spiderman. I'm also not Superman, in case you are wondering. Now, I might be Batman. No one has actually ever seen the two of us together, so you can still hold out hope that I might be Batman."

Gwen frowned at his harsh mocking, her eyes again falling to the dark symbol on his chest. Of course he wasn't Spiderman, Eddie had been there standing right beside my father when all hell had broken loose at the photo shoot. Her face pained at the thought of her father.

Brock saw her response and ignored her pain. Whatever is going on with Gwen Stacy is none of my concern. I have played the Good Samaritan, and that's all I am going to do tonight.

He leaned back against the counter behind him and waited. Gwen realised he wasn't going to make this any easier so she hesitantly continued, "Eddie, I just –" Her eyes dropped and were again skimming his body before she caught herself and forced them away from his chest and inadvertently down to his groin. Jesus. She almost groaned out in embarrassment as she dropped her eyes to the floor and was rewarded with the not quite innocuous display of his bare feet on the wood floor.

God give me strength, "I just want to thank you for tonight." Her eyes were blinking rapidly and her voice was soft whisper as she tried to get through what she had to say so she could get the hell out of there and far away from him.

He was unnerving her, and it had already been such a terrifying night; her nerves were frayed, and she felt herself trembling. Her throat worked as tears threatened and her eyes started to glisten, "If you hadn't come when you did…" Her voice disappeared for a second and she took a breath, "I don't know what would have happened to me…"

A nice man would have gone to her, held her… comforted her. But I'm not a nice man. Hell, I never have been, even before the black shit got on me. I had been a dick and nothing much has changed now, except now I'm a dick with the physical power to back it up.

"You don't know what would have happened to you, really? I know what would have happened, Gwen. They would have raped you in that alley. All five of them, Gwen. I know this because I heard them planning to do it. I heard them planning in great detail, exactly what they were going to do to you, Gwen. "

She pulled in a hesitant breath as a tear streamed down her cheek, but her pain didn't stop him. He wanted to hurt her; he wanted her to be afraid. She should be afraid. She put herself in that position, she went to that bar looking for trouble and she damn near found more than she bargained for. She needs to know what this city is really about. She needs to know the scum that inhabited it, hell, she is standing in the room right now with some of the worst it could offer, and she is still clueless about how much trouble she had been in.

Brock advanced on her, "Do you want to know what they said Gwen? What they were going to do to you?"

She shook her head and backed away unsteadily on her feet as the fear and revulsion overcame her. Brock followed her, circling the kitchen island as he moved soundlessly on his bare feet, his head tilted as his cold eyes bore into her.

"They were going to take turns on you, Gwen. Every one of them had a part of you that was going to be his. Your mouth… your ass… every part of you." He looked at her in disappointment, "And you walked out of the bar willingly with the piece of shit that was going to give you over to them. You were going to fuck him in that alley weren't you, Gwen? You were going to give it to him without a second thought and then his boys were going to take what was left of you."

He sneered down at her in disgust, "You aren't daddy's little girl anymore, are you? Little high and mighty Gwen Stacy, life size Barbie… remember when you thought you were too good for me? I guess you aren't too good for me now are you? You probably wouldn't have a problem in the world giving it up to me now either. I just have to wait my turn… catch you between lays."

Gwen slapped him. He had backed her nearly to the door spewing his hate and filth and then she had hit him. Her hand stung as it registered the blow before her mind could comprehend what she had just done. His face was turned away from the force of the impact and she stared in horror at his profile as the imprint of her hand flushed crimson on his jaw.

Her hands grasped behind her for the doorknob even as he turned back to her. Before she could clasp it with her trembling hands he was on her, his body crushing her against the door as his mouth covered hers, demanding and urgent, his tongue forced itself between her lips.

Panic brought out a cry from her as her heart hammered against her chest. He pressed her hard against the door and her whimpers seemed to only fuel the intensity of his kiss. Gwen's mind raced as the panic subsided enough that she realised he was not touching her, his hands were encasing her, pressed firmly on the steel of the door, but not touching her.

Eddie's body was pressed against hers, but it was his mouth that held her captive. His lips firm and cool against her heated skin, his tongue forcing into her as he plundered her soft mouth. Her panic gave way into something else and her whimpers became a soft moan.

He stilled against her and there was only the feel of his breath on her lips. Her eyes blinked open and they looked at one another like both had just awoken from a dream… or a nightmare …or maybe a fantasy.

That sound... I have dreamed of that sound coming from her mouth as I fucked her... to feel her … to kiss her… to hear that moan of passion that I knew I could bring in her… He stopped himself to see if it was real. I have been through this scenario so many times just to wake up alone in cum-soaked sheets that I can't let myself believe it is happening now.

I feel her hand in my hair and I shudder, fuck me if I didn't just tremble. God damn everything if the bitch didn't have me fucking shaking in her hand. He pulled away and she followed, jumped into his fucking arms and what could he do but catch her and then her legs were around him. I fucking almost came right then.

Gwen Stacy in my apartment moaning in my mouth as I carry her to my bed. The hard on in my jeans is almost too much to bear as I make the painful journey across the apartment.

I was only vaguely aware of what was happening as I accepted that this was another wild fantasy of mine. It was the best one I had ever had, but I knew it would be over soon enough and I would be back to my reality. Back to watching for her photo in the papers, back to slinking in the shadows for just a glimpse of her, back to being not good enough. But for now fantasy was good enough…this was good enough.

I place her on the bed, my knee beside her thigh as I force her away from me, far enough to pull her free from her tattered, grey camisole. Her breasts are exquisite, full and perfect, heavy in my hand and like silk to the touch.

Her rosebud pink nipples deepened their colour to crimson as I sucked and teased them to attention. Fuck, this is not right; normally I would be buried to the hilt by now in her wet pussy, fucking hard until I came. Shit, I didn't even use my hand on myself most times. I could dream of her and wake to my load blowing in ecstasy. It was shameful... if I had shame… good thing I don't.

My hands have pulled her skirt up over her hips and I see then she has no underwear and my fantasy is complete, as I'm lowering my face to her pussy when I see the bruise on her thigh and my body shocks and I come back to myself. My finger runs lightly over the raised bruise and I hear her quick intake of breath and I realize this is Gwen... this is Gwen you fucking idiot…she is really here.

My eyes snap up to her face. I don't know what she saw on me, but it was enough that she was pulling me up to her mouth reassuring me that she was all right and that she wanted me.

"What the fuck?" I manage to mumble out the question as she rolled me under her and I feel her hands on my belt, pulling it open and then she was unbuttoning my jeans. It was only a second later that I am in her hand and I am chanting in my mind a command to my body not to release.

Her hand surrounds my cock and I realized how imprecise my fantasies of her had been. Her hand is small and soft and just practiced enough that it takes away my hesitancy on fucking her. She stroked me and I hardened further and she gives a moan of approval as I filled out in her palm. Her second hand joined the first and I lie back on the pillows and try to pretend none of it affected me.

I called out to the black mass on my chest and the sensation of her hands fades, even as my awareness of her grew exponentially and I become a third party, watching this woman take me into her mouth.

X

Gwen sucked him, trying her best to take all of him before sliding back to the tip to swirl her tongue around his head. Fuck, he is too big.

She knew it would gag her if she took him any further but she wasn't complaining. She wanted to please him. But he didn't seem pleased; he was just watching her with his cold, penetrating eyes as she fucked him with her mouth. She shut her eyes and tried to pretend that it didn't hurt that she was having no more effect on him than she was. She had been a good girl nearly her entire life, but she had been bad enough lately to know that she was good at this and yet he was just staring at her like he felt nothing.

She was relieved when he finally pulled her from him and settled her over him, his hands were at her waist and she felt him unzipping her skirt and then he was ripping it apart.

She cried out in protest as the leather gave way under his hands and she looked at him shocked. "It was ruined anyways, Gwen. It was ruined the second that motherfucker laid his hands on it. But he was ruined the second he laid his hands on you. You saw that for yourself, didn't you?" Brock laughed a little at his own humour.

Her eyes rose and she saw it then, there had been an effect, his eyes were burning now, hot and bright in his dark face. "They wanted to fuck you, Gwen… and so do I. I think the big difference between me and them is you actually want this now… don't you Gwen?"

She nodded and flushed red at the admission. Brock smiled grimly, "Don't be embarrassed Gwen. It's a new concept for you to want me I get that. But I'm not who you remember me to be… I've undergone some improvements." He flexed his chest the dark shadow of the tattoo moved and pulsed as he lay back and positioned himself under her. "Get what you want from me Gwen. Fuck me until you come."

Gwen looked down at him and his face was a mask of cold determination and she lost her nerve. Brock held her as she tried to move away, "Was that not tender enough an invitation for you, baby girl?" He used the words from the man in the alley and Gwen's eyes flamed.

Brock laughed, "That's right, baby girl, get mad and fuck me. That motherfucker was going to take what was mine, but it didn't happen…did it? Fuck no, it didn't happen. Now here we are. So fuck me, Gwen. I want you to give me what those men were going to take from you."

Gwen trembled above him, not knowing how to interpret his words. They were harsh and punishing …primal and territorial, and they made her feel both weak and powerful to hear them. Eddie was giving her back her right of choice while simultaneously telling her that her body was his.

He laughed again at her hesitation, "You are hardly a virgin, Gwen. Fuck me or don't, but I'll be damned if you just hover me with your pussy dripping on my cock. Now make a choice."

She realised with shame that he wasn't wrong, she was so hot and ready that she felt the wetness slicking between her thighs. She pulled away from him and tried to get clear of him. He held her firmly above him and she could feel his cock throbbing underneath her. All I have to do is ease back and he would be in me…

Brock watched as she shut her eyes and trembled. He slipped his hands to her hips and held her steady, "Fuck me Gwen. Use me like you wanted to use that fucker in the alley. You went there tonight to find a man to help you forget didn't you? You wanted a man to fuck you… fill you… make you numb... so here I am. Let me make it all go away."

His voice found her and the truth of his words resonated deep in her as she slid back against him and she felt him pressing insistently at her entrance. She tried to sink deeper but he held her tight. Her eyes opened and she looked foggily down at him.

His face was like stone, "Tell me you want this, Gwen. Tell me this is your choice. Tell me or get the fuck out of my bed right now."

Gwen nodded, "My choice. I want this. I want you, Eddie."

His head tilted as he processed her words, I want you… before his mind could derail and attempt to breakdown what she had actually meant by that, his body trumped his mind and he forced himself up and into her body as his hands pulled her viciously down onto his cock. Finally…Gwen Stacy is mine.

X

Xx

Xxx

Brock drifted for a moment, his mind traveling back to the previous months when he had fought to recover from his 'unfortunate accident'. He had gotten to a point now where he could actually refer to his near death experience as an accident without laughing or going into a rage black out at the mere thought of Peter Parker.

His hand travelled the familiar path though his chest and his hand found the pulsing black mass over his heart, Cure you or kill you. It had done a little of both. After the explosion, the black matter had been incinerated, as had he. The blast had flung him clear of the site and for hours he lay unaware of anything but the burning, searing pain, as his charred flesh tried to regenerate itself with the assistance of the small remaining black matter that had managed to cling to him.

Something happened during that time as the small strain of symbiote struggled to regenerate. It had bonded with him, not as parasite to host but as a servant to a master. He directed it… he commanded it, he forbade its own reproduction and had instead focused its purpose on repair… his repair, his healing... his regrowth...

I had watched Parker struggle to rid himself of the dark matter and then the do-gooder that he was, Spiderman had tried to save me (like I was salvageable) from the substance but the draw of the power had been too much. I had dove back into the mass, welcoming death before I would allow myself to go back to being the weak nothing that I had been before. Then there was the flash of light… the explosion…. and everything had changed again.

The black matter had saved me, it had absorbed the blast, the residue that had escaped destruction had adapted itself to me... we had fed off each other to stay alive in the days and weeks that followed the blast. Hell, we are still trying to save each other, to scrape out an existence together.

Brock looked down at Gwen and he felt an unfamiliar twinge in his stomach… fear. Her head rested on his shoulder and her hand was dangerously close to the pulsing black mass. He gently captured her hand and forced it lower on his abdomen, keeping his hand clasped firmly over hers as he turned away from her. He balled a pillow under his chin and sighed as he felt Gwen pull closer to him, resting across his back. Brock let his eyelids lower and fell into a troubled slumber, comforted by the warm heat that pressed against him.

Brock woke to the sound of his shower running, and the feeling of sheets cooling beside him where she should have been. He rolled over and pressed his face against the pillow that had held her head and smelled the faint scent of her perfume.

He had no way of knowing that it was Dolce and Gabbana, The One. He wouldn't know the name but he could have picked it out of the endless samples at a fragrance shop, the smell was imprinted in his brain... it was her. He felt a surge of possessiveness as he thought of Gwen and he considered for a moment, taking her in the shower. He inhaled another deep breath through the sheets and his eyelids fluttered as he fought for control, Control…control…

His eyes opened and there was an eerie calm there, a facade of humanity that held a demon prisoner behind the fragile barrier of control. Control… Control, it was a tenuous concept when dealing with the darkness that lived within him. Control was something he hadn't had when the symbiote had first claimed him. The power… the anger-fuelled rage that drove him… he had been unstoppable…invincible. But it hadn't been him in control…not really.

Until Parker. Even in his sleep Brock reacted to the thought of Peter Parker with a sneer of undisguised hate. His head rolled to the side as the dream took him deeper as he again faced Spiderman in his dreams. He saw in his mind's eye the black spider on his chest, the very shape he demanded the symbiote form itself, expand, and lace across his body as he changed into the phantom, the shadowy Spiderman, the terroristic polar opposite of New York's web slinging saviour. I am the antagonist, the enigma... the anti hero.

He had stayed hidden in the warehouse district, living in abandoned buildings, hiding among the vagrants and bums, surviving on scraps driven on by the sheer will to survive, the refusal to succumb to the peaceful lure of death. His eyes went to the door that separated the bathroom from the open expanse of the studio apartment. Gwen… he had thought of her when he had struggled… her face haunted him... taunted him.

There was a soft buzzing off the side of the bed. Eddie immediately rolled over and pulled the phone out from the tangle of clothes on the floor. Without hesitation he examined her phone, the incoming call was pictured on the display, "Fucking Peter Parker…" Brock's jaw clinched as his eyes rose to the door. This is going to be an issue Gwen… I don't share, especially not with The Spider. I wonder if she knows who you really are Peter… I bet you wanted to tell her, she would have spread them wide for you buddy, had she had known… she had a big crush on you, wall crawler.

His finger punched the call button and he put the phone to his ear, Parker's voice came through the receiver and Brock's lips curled back from his teeth in a sneer.

"Thank God Gwen; I have been trying to reach you for days! Mary Jane said that she saw you Wednesday and that you… didn't seem yourself." There was a pause before he continued. "I am worried about you, Gwen." There was another pause and a deep sigh. "Look I know you probably hate me and you have every right to. I was hurting and I took advantage of you. I never should have done that. I'm sorry Gwen. I used you and for that I will never forgive myself."

Brock sat up in the bed, the cotton sheets falling in a pool at his waist as he listened to Parker ramble to a stop. "What did you do Peter? Did you fuck her?" Brock's heart raced, hammering against his breastbone like it was trying to escape through the black arachnid that held it beneath its clutching legs.

There was nothing but silence.

"What happened? Did MJ tell you to fuck off, and so you had to go to your back up plan?" Brock smiled into the phone as he imagined Peter trying to come to grips with who he was…the horror when the realisation hit. Oh, to be a spider on the wall and see the look on his face… that would be a photo worth keeping for certain.

"Don't worry Pete. I am taking care of our girl. He heard the water shut off and his face split into a smile that wasn't entirely forced. "As a matter of fact I feel good enough now that I might just be ready to take care of her again, if you know what I,m talking about." He left Peter with his signature phrase as he shut off the phone and tossed it back onto the pile of clothes.

Gwen stepped out of the bathroom hesitantly as she let her eyes adjust to the low light in the room. The only illumination came through the windows from the moon and the streetlights. She could see Eddie sitting up in the bed watching her.

She exhaled forcefully as she faced the long walk to the bed. The walk of shame as it was. She had spent many a morning facing this particular fate. Regret and remorse, embarrassment and shame. Not enough of a deterrent to keep her from the same behaviour the next weekend, but this was even worse than the awkward encounters of the past; sometimes she didn't even know their names, which made it easier, less personal.

This was Eddie… this was the guy that had been trying to get in her pants for the better part of a year. She swallowed as she forced her feet to move, this was also the guy that had very possibly saved her life tonight. She blinked rapidly as she thought of their time in bed; he was also the man that had driven her nearly insane with pleasure for the past three hours. So yes, getting out of here with any semblance of grace or composure was going to be awkward if not impossible.

Brock watched her walk timidly across the floor, Apollo lifted his head and watched her as even he registered the change in her behaviour, the nervous energy that surrounded her brought a sympathetic whine from the dog before he returned his massive head to the stack of blankets on which he lay.

Desire smouldered behind Brock's dark eyes as he watched her, waiting for her to reach him. Her voice was soft when she finally spoke, "I hope you don't mind I used your shower."

He gave her no response as he just continued to watch her …wait for her.

Gwen swallowed and dropped her head, "Well, thank you for that and for earlier… again thank you for helping... saving me from –" Her voice trailed off and she shook her head. Just shut up Gwendolyn and get the hell out of here. Her internal voice demanded that she shut up and salvage the last shreds of her dignity. Her face flushed as she gathered her clothes and she backed away from him. "I will just change and be out of your way."

His voice caught her as she was turning back to the bathroom, "So now you are shy?" She could hear the laughter in his voice as he mocked her. Her face flamed and she bit her lip against the retort that threatened to emerge, deciding he had earned his right to ridicule her. He had saved her; the fact that Eddie had no chivalry in the matter was of no consequence. She turned and walked quickly towards the bathroom.

"Gwen." Her name off his lips froze her, rooted her feet to the cool wood of the floor. She heard the squeak of the bedsprings as he rose and then the soft slap of his feet as he walked over to her. She felt her clothes being pulled out of her hands and then the towel followed and she squeezed her eyes shut and inhaled a surprised breath. "You don't think I deserve better than this from you?" His voice was deep as he growled the question into her neck just below her ear.

Her throat worked as she tried to speak, to breathe, to swallow, to anything… as she drowned in the struggle to respond. Her eyes stayed shut and she felt her chest squeeze at his next words, "Or are you sober enough now that you realise with whom you had the misfortune of sleeping with?"

She felt his arms around her and she pressed back into his chest, she felt the warm unnatural heat from the tattoo pressing on her back and she thought momentarily of asking him if he had antibiotic cream to treat it. His voice again snapped her out of her reverie, "I asked you question, Gwen. Do you regret what we just did ?"

She managed to shake her head and whispered out, "No Eddie. I don't regret it."

He held her tight to his chest and his eyes slid shut as relief washed over his face before his face hardened and his voice deepened, "Then why are you running away, angel? Why are you running back out into the dangerous city rather than returning to my bed?"

Gwen chanced a glance over her shoulder and her eyes met his, his lips were hovering over her shoulder, brushing the skin as he questioned her decision.

"I didn't think you would want me to stay…after I mean." Her eyes dropped to the floor and she slowly let her chin follow as she turned away from him. Brock watched her wilt in front of him and the anger crept into his voice as he imagine the men that had used her, that had made her feel that there was nothing left of her worth having once their pleasure had been taken.

"Why don't you ask me what I want? Or doesn't that matter? Do my feelings still not matter to you, Gwen?" His voice sounded strained, raw like it was forced through broken glass. Gwen exhaled as her head dropped back into his chest.

He waited for her response even as his hand slipped lower from her stomach down to the slope of her hip.

"I didn't want you to have to ask me to leave… I couldn't have handled that… rejection." She confessed her fear to him as her eyes filled with unshed tears.

He squeezed her gently as he pressed his hardening body against her bottom, "So instead you force me into asking you to stay. You make me face another possible rejection from you." His voice was cold; "I suppose I should be more accustomed to that feeling than you, Gwen."

He slipped his hand between her legs while the other one found her breast and began kneading gently at the soft mound. "Are you going to reject me again Gwen? Are you going to throw me away like you did before? Add me back into the endless stack of rebuffed lovers? You have quite the collection of bodies piling at your feet."

Her soft moan as his finger entered her was her only response, Brock slid himself along the firm curve of her ass, sliding skin against skin as he encouraged her to spread her legs further. "If you cast me aside Gwen, just make sure you don't land me next to Peter Parker. Just knowing I am getting his leftovers is painful enough; I don't want to have to see him face to face in the reject pile."

She pulled away from him and he caught her hand before she levelled him with another slap to the face. He could tell by the look on her face that he had wounded her deeply. He could also tell from her reaction that she had never screwed Parker.

Thank God for that … seriously, it has been eating me alive for months thinking of them together.

He held her hand steadily in his and the cold steel of his eye thawed and he tugged her towards him, "I'm sorry Gwen. I shouldn't have said that, I had to know. I couldn't stand the thought of you having feelings for him… that you would pick him over –" He cut off his words as her eyes rose to meet his.

"That I would pick him over you…" Gwen finished the statement as she finally realised that he hadn't changed, not as much as she had thought. This was the same Eddie Brock that had wanted her from the start. He had changed physically, his body was a man's now, broad full and defined, but he was still Eddie… he was still unsure and he was still drowning in his need for her.

She raised her hand to his face and cupped his chin, "Peter and I never had anything. He loves MJ. We were friends and barely that anymore, Eddie." Her eyes searched his and he saw the truth there.

He pulled her into him and held her firm at the waist as his other hand slid to grip her neck, "And the other men Gwen? What about them?" His eyes searched her face as he spoke, "I have been watching you, Gwen. Haven't you felt me watching you? I have seen things Gwen… why? Why are you doing this to yourself? Why would you let random bastards use you, night after night? You are so beautiful and innocent, why would you let them desecrate you that way."

Gwen struggled to get away from him, away from the terrible truths he laid before her. "Don't Eddie. Stop. Let me go." Her voice was small and frightened and he understood her vulnerability, her pain. She was lost. She was as lost as he was.

"Gwen… "He choked out her name as his lips found hers and she pushed away feebly before her hands threaded through his hair and she was clinging to him desperately.

He groaned as her mouth claimed him and he was clutching her to his chest, careless of the darkness that resided there. It was a part of him and he didn't fear it –he would give his life for this woman in his arms, so the darkness held no threat for her; the darkness was her servant… as was he.

X

Xx

Xxx

Brock could taste her tears on his tongue as he kissed her lips her desperation, fuelling their coupling. She pulled him over her as they stumbled back onto the bed, her small hands surrounding his hard member as she guided it inside her. She was too small and not ready to accept him. He tried to stall but she was insistent, thrusting her hips to his, driving him deeper even as she whimpered from the pain.

Eddie pushed her down to the bed and held her steady, "Angel... I'm not going anywhere and neither are you, baby. We have all the time we need for one another now." He reassured her with his soft words as he pulled out. It killed me not to drive into her and just take us both to climax. But she deserved better than a desperate fuck that left her empty. Hell, I deserve better than that. I had waited for her for so long. Needed her, wanted her, and fantasised about her.

He watched as she stroked his cock with her hand and he groaned in animal need before pulling himself away, "Gwen you are a bad girl. You are my bad little girl." He kissed her deeply until she was moaning in to his mouth as she ground against his leg.

The smell of her arousal and the feel of her wetness on his leg convinced him that she was more than ready to accommodate him now. He slid his hand along her sex, fondling her clit as he slipped his index finger inside her. The wet heat of her body drew out a moan of wanting need from his lips. "Jesus Gwen, you are so tight. Are you ready for me baby girl?"

A breathless "yes" was murmured against his lips and he felt his chest tighten, "Fuck angel, tell me. Tell me you want it." He needed to hear her say it.

Gwen sighed and nuzzled his cheek. I want you, Eddie. Please make love to me, Eddie."

Her words halted him and he stared down at her, Make love to her… Fuck… was that what I was doing to her? Making love? I don't even know if I am capable of that... He questioned his capabilities even as she drew him down closer and pushed herself deeper on his exploring fingers.

Eddie slid them inside her, drawing them out before slipping in again, massaging the front wall of her as she writhed in pleasure. "That's it," he whispered as he felt her tightening and releasing against his fingers. "Feel me, baby. Tell me what you need."

Gwen blinked up at him and he saw the unguarded passion and want in her eyes. It undid him when she whispered, "Just love me."

He cursed and then covered her lips with his as he pulled his hand free and positioned himself over her. He broke away from her kiss and pressed his lips against her throat, "I've wanted you for so long Gwen. I wish I had been better then. I wish I had been enough for you Gwen. I could have been there for you, protected you… but I didn't deserve you. I was a fucking child it was no surprise you didn't want me. I'm different now Gwen. See me for what I am now, please. Please… see me for the man I have become…"

He pressed himself inside her as he held her eyes with his, the warmth of her body encompassing him as they became one with one another. Her back arched off the thin mattress as he buried himself to the hilt. Her soft gasp of pleasure undid him as he pulled out to the crown of his cock and then drove in again.

He couldn't get deep enough; he pulled her against him as he settled to his knees with her hips draped over his muscular thighs. "Oh my angel, look how beautiful you are. A goddess."He pushed and pulled as he filled her with himself, his voice in her ear as he whispered his longing for her and his desperate need that she was filling. All the while he was filling the emptiness that had been cored into her heart. She had started to cry, her eyes leaking tears as her body accepted the comfort his body offered even as her mind tried to accept the emotional deluge that overwhelmed them.

Brock paused; his hand wrapped in her damp blonde hair as she straddled his thighs, and asked her quietly if she needed him to stop, if he was hurting her.

She shook her head and pulled him deeper, begging him not to stop. "Never… please, never stop." she expressed her need as her body flexed around him. "I want you, Eddie. I need you. Please don't stop. This is beautiful, this is right. You are who I want Eddie. Please, please..."

Her desperation moved him and he responded by pressing her down to the mattress and filling her with deep, unhurried thrusts until she exploded beneath him and he followed,allowing the rhythmic contractions of her body to milk the seed from his body.

Somewhere in his mind a tiny flair surfaced as he realised that he should have used a condom, even as he thought it he pushed deeper and forced more of himself into her. "Ahhh!My God! You feel so good, Gwen. You are mine baby. My beautiful girl..."

Gwen collapsed back into the worn pillows, panting; Eddie heaved himself off of her body looking down at her with a half smile curving his lips. He waited until she lifted her eyes to him before he slid slowly out of her body. He allowed her to press a soft kiss against his lips all the while they regarded one another closely.

Eddie pulled away from her, pushing himself to the side of the bed where he grabbed his jeans and slung them on casually. Gwen slid back against the wall pulling the sheet up around her chest as she watched him carefully. He pulled on a pair of worn sneakers that were lying next to the bed and he noticed her apprehension. "I need to walk the mutt."

Gwen looked over and could see the anxious mannerisms of the large black dog and she relaxed as she realised Eddie wasn't tossing her aside or worse yet, abandoning her.

She nodded that she understood and tried with some success not to look terrified or relieved by his explanation. She felt him lean into her and his lips were soft on her cheek. "Make us some coffee would you, Gwen. It's on the counter." His voice was gravelly and sent a small thrill up her spine.

His request was a continuation of their intimacy and she never considered not doing it. She nodded and smiled at the press of his lips on her jaw as he rumbled a low growl when the sheet slipped revealing her breasts.

He pushed a hand in his groin and rearranged himself as he growled again. "Damn dog." He muttered a curse as he stood and gave her a regretful look before walking away to tend to the desperate animal.

Gwen watched him walk out of the room and smiled when he gave her a last salacious look over his shoulder before stepping out the door.o

She rewarded him by letting the sheet fall away from her body as she stood up from his bed. She could feel his eyes burning into her before he muttered another expletive as he shut the door.

He had left off his shirt, electing to go downstairs in just his jeans without a second thought, but then she heard the door lock slide into place and it gave her pause. A small smile broke across her face at the thoughtful gesture of protection for her. Securing her against any possible threat in his absence, the simple consideration warmed her, made her feel valued.

She shook her head as she gathered her camisole off the floor and frowned down at the broken strap; she glanced over at the torn skirt and sighed. Ruined, all of it.

She looked around at the clothes strewn on the floor and vaguely considered the shirt Brock wore earlier, but she realized it would be covered in blood and she knew it would smell like smoke from the club. Frankly the thought of smelling the cigarettes made her stomach roll.

She noticed a t-shirt lying over the back of the couch and she picked it up tentatively. He had worn it recently she could smell the vague scent of his soap and aftershave. She slipped the garment over her head and smiled as it settled long over her legs, breaking at about mid-thigh.

She glanced at the insignia, a gym. That must be where Eddie had found his new physique,she mused as she padded over to the kitchen and found the Keurig. It was the only appliance that she found in the kitchen with the exception of the range that looked abandoned and forsaken by its disuse.

She glanced around and discovered the cups. Starbucks dark roast. She winced as she remembered their coffee date. Was that a date? Funny… before she would have never argued the status of that afternoon as anything but a casual coffee between friends.

She slid out the ready-made cup and then noticed a box of Veranda Blend, set further back on the counter, and her eyes widened imperceptibly. Her throat tightened as she contemplated that. Veranda blend… that's what I had ordered that day, he remembered. She opened the box and she saw what she knew she would find. It was full. He had bought them for her.

She started a little at the sound of the lock sliding back and she reprimanded herself for being so jumpy. She relaxed as the large, black dog bustled back into the room. His head was a huge triangle that was held aloft by equally enormous shoulders. Gwen blinked as the intimidating dog crossed the floor to the kitchen to determine if she was providing for him as well.

Gwen slipped a mug under the spout and the Keurig immediately responded by filling the cup with steaming coffee, perfectly blended.

Brock watched her as he hung the leash over a hook near the door. His t-shirt never looked as good as it did right then draped over the sexy woman in his kitchen.

He looked down at himself and for once all of his sacrifice and pain seemed to have been worth it. He took in the sight of himself the muscled shelf of his chest the swell of his biceps as he flexed before slipping his hands casually into the back pockets of his jeans as he crossed over to her.

He had struggled his entire life with feelings of inadequacy, the inferiority complex with which his dad had made him live; everyday was a legacy that continued still today.

Not only was he never good enough, but he was so insignificant that he hadn't really ever mattered at all. He was non-existent. That was why he was so determined to get noticed for his art. He looked over to the editing table and wondered if Gwen had looked at the pictures while he was gone. I hope she did… I hope she liked them… I worked hard on them. He looked down at himself again, I worked hard on this too; he slipped a hand from the bottom of the shadowy spider down his muscled ribs to his tapered waist.

I worked damn hard on me

He blinked slowly as the memories flooded him. The struggles he faced before the exposure. He had damn near been ridiculed out of that very gym. Local muscle heads that were roided-out and raging in the free-weights had made every visit a punishment for him.

But things had changed, he had changed.

The familiar swell of power that accompanied his calls to the symbiote filled his muscles with tingling power and he had to shut off the connection, stop the activation of the shadowy substance that was now as a part of himself as one of his own appendages.

More important than an appendage, it was like the additional of another sense –it was as important as sight, smell, touch… it was intuition personified… it was exponential power... it was residual Spiderman exposure.

It was insanely intoxicating and empowering, and he had used it all to his advantage. He had hit the gym religiously, using the ability of the symbiote to regenerate his torn and abused muscles. With his relentless attack on his own tissues, he had done what Parker had never had the mental fortitude to do, he had altered himself. Parker used the spider venom – yes he knew all about Parkers little lab accident, whereas the symbiote shared everything with Eddie. Everything…

Parker had never done anything with himself besides wallow around in the loss of his gramps.

He didn't like that he had any personal connection to Parker at all. He had felt the stirring of desire that Parker had felt for Gwen and that ran through him like a blade through flesh. That alone made him want to gut Parker like a fish.

His eyes returned to Gwen as she held the cup of coffee out to him and he took it wordlessly. Her mouth opened and his eyes followed her lips as his mind refused to process anything more than the visual of the pink lips slipping over the dazzling pearl white teeth.

She touched his arm and he shocked back to himself, "I asked if you have another coffee cup?" Her voice was soft and a little shy.

He nodded and pointed up at the cabinet behind her. She turned and his eyes dropped to the swell of her ass. He skirted around the island and walked up behind her as she opened the cupboard. She reached for the other mug and he assisted her reaching above her grasping hand to pull the cup into her reach, as his other hand took advantage of the lifted hem of her shirt as he placed a firm hand on her ass.

Gwen smiled up at him as she settled back from her toes and accepted the offered cup. When Eddie didn't make any effort to move out of her personal space she finally edged around him and returned to her project.

Brock followed her, rubbing unnecessarily against her as he reached across the counter to collect his own steaming beverage. His eyes remained on her face, searching for her reaction to his proximity. He evidently found what he was searching for as his low rumble of approval made her stomach clinch and she took a deep breath that gave her a scent of him.

Testosterone, sex, and something distinctly Eddie…

He sipped from his cup as he she turned and faced him, holding her own mug delicately in her hand, her aquamarine eyes intent on his pale green.

He raised his glass in acknowledgement even as his eyes slid lower and took in her bare legs. "Well Gwen I will have to say this is a bit different circumstances than our previous coffee."He leered at her suggestively as he sipped from his mug. "I must say I prefer this. Scenery beats the Sixth Avenue." He paused for a beat and added, "Coffee is better too."

Gwen smiled and flushed a little at the compliment, "Well you can't exactly mess up a Keurigcoffee, Eddie."

He nodded and sipped again, "Then at least take credit for the view." He stared at her lasciviously as he contemplated taking her again on the counter. He felt her eyes sliding over him and he held himself rock still as he waited in near anguish for her penetrating eyes to finish their journey over his exposed flesh.

"I can't take all the credit for the improvement in the view."

Eddie snorted a laugh. "You approve?" His eyes were anxious and suddenly Gwen was unsure of how it would be proper to answer the question. "There was nothing wrong with the old Eddie. But I'm not complaining about the… modifications." Her hand moved from her warm cup and he felt the additional heat trace down his ripped abdominals. His eyes slid shut as he tried not to tremble at the soft, reverent touch. The kindness and delicacy of her touch was a far extreme to the relentless toil that he subjected himself to on a daily basis. The arduous extremes that he pushed himself to left him unprepared to accept the gentle attention of her hand. He reminded himself to gentle himself as he pulled her into his chest as his body pressed against the warm, soft swell of her breast.

"God, Gwen you feel so good." He felt himself hardening again against her and the difference in them was never more glaringly apparent as she opened her arms to him and pulled himselfinto her arms' embrace, comforting him in the gentleness of her touch. He felt himself dropping to his knees as his face pressed into her chest and he breathed in the scent of her mingled with his shirt, their sex, her new want …and he was powerless not to lift the shirt and expose her to him as he gently spread her thighs apart. Her soft intake of breath and attempt to stall him away from taking her brought his eyes up to hers.

"Stop Eddie. You don't have to do –"

His eyes narrowed and he returned his mouth to the task it had set itself for. "I want to taste you Gwen. The smell of us together is intoxicating. I have to know what that tastes like,baby."

The groan as he sunk his tongue into her had her shuddering as he thrust inside her. He withdrew and swirled it languidly around her clit before nipping lightly. His eyes fluttered shut as he pushed her wider apart and lapped languidly at her. He mumbled his approval as his fingers joined his tongue and he began to stroke her, rimming her as he coaxed her swollen entry open for him again.

He murmured his approval as she dropped back against the counter and spread her legs wider, giving him access to everything he desired. "That's my girl, give it to me, baby." He slid further under her and cupped her ass in his hand as he kneaded the soft globe of her buttock.

Gwen's breath rasped in her throat as she rode out the incredible sensations as Eddie devoured her. His moans of pleasure as he sucked and lapped were sending her spiralling out of her mind. Her hands were in his hair as she struggled to control the pace to ease herselfaway from the edge, he grabbed her hand and pulled them together behind her.

"Take it." Was his only response as his continued to burn through her, his teeth grazed her clit as she pulsed involuntarily and he was on her, harder, licking, sucking, nipping, until sheunravelled into a trembling, shaking orgasm so great that he was forced to support her through it as she arched uncontrollably and her legs collapsed.

When her last tremors subsided he soothed her punished womanhood with soft caresses from his warm tongue and a feather light kiss against her swollen clit before he stood.

He smiled at her like the very devil himself as he reached past her and collected his cup. He again saluted her and took a sip of his drink before smiling again, "It is the view and the off the menu items here that I am partial to."

Gwen stood watching him in shocked satiated silence as he turned and walked quietly to the window. He sat down at the editing table and looked out over New York. She recovered herself enough that she followed, mindless of the cup of coffee that she had prepared for herself. She paused at the bed and collected a sheet that had been carelessly strewn onto the floor. Wrapping it around her shoulders she joined him, walking quietly to him. He welcomed her with a shift of his hips to stand between his thighs.

She filled the space obediently, her head accepting the welcoming shelf of his shoulder as her fingers hovered above the dark tattoo. "It looks painful. Does it hurt, Eddie?"

He took her hand before she could touch it and held it away from the mass until he was certain he had absolute control.

None of this would ever touch his Gwen, the chance it would contaminate her the way it had him initially was too great a risk to take. He felt the mass go cold in him and he knew then that the symbiote was as protective of her as he; it was him after all…

"It hurt before, very much, but not anymore Gwen … its part of me now. The wounds have healed" He pressed her hand against it and she felt for a second that it slid under her fingers… it moved. Her fingertips skimmed the tattoo and the feeling passed as she realised there was scared flesh, raised and ridged under the black ink.

"Eddie what is this?" Her fingertips traced the wound; she was sure now that it was scars that the tattoo was hiding. "What happened to you?"

His eyes were blank when he looked at her, "I had a run in with the Spiderman. He left me with a memento. I thought I should keep it… to make sure I never forget who my enemies are."

Eddie knew he would never tell her of the night he had taken the starburst blast wound on his chest and carved it into the image of the spider over the puckered scars. He had been in the makeshift gym he created in the basement of the apartment building, covered in sweat and nearly vomiting in pain as the symbiote wrapped itself around his arms and chest pulling the lactic acid from the destroyed muscle fibres. The black matter had been intent on its duty to rebuild the muscle proteins as it reinforced the damaged muscle. Inches of protective fibrescorded under his skin as it strained to cover the new mass of the building muscles.

The pain of the stretching skin in his chest was nearly unbearable as he staggered back into the wall behind him, shattering the ancient mirror he had propped against the wall. Theshards of glass fell to the damp concrete, as did he. Brock slid down the mouldy wall until he lay spent on the floor, where he was only faintly aware of the pain in his legs and hands from the cuts from the broken glass.

He had stared blankly to the side at his reflection, visible in the only other mirror. He had felt the flesh on his chest burning, burning like the day the bomb went off. His hand captured a shard of glass and was cutting before his rational mind could stop him. His hand drew avicious looping slash that drew down his side across his ribs. He pushed back the symbiote,not letting it cover the bleeding wounds. Again and again he had cut himself, opening the skin across his breast and slowly and painfully the design took place.

When he had finished, the raw, bleeding spider was surrounded with the black symbiote. The reaching tendrils were writhing in desperation to fill and heal the wound. When Brock had finally relented to its pressing desire to fill the void he had demanded it remain there, housed in the shape of the spider. And so it had, nestled itself in the open scars of his chest,becoming the dark spider, acquiescing to the demand that it keep the shape of the bastard son of a bitch that had nearly destroyed them.

Fucking Spiderman. The joke was on the arachnid … I got enough of a taste of his power that some of that spider shit stayed with me. Intuition of danger, strength, balance, recovery, hell I could even wall crawl when I wanted to. Granted the symbiote was responsible for my abilities as the tendrils grasped the surface through my hands and feet, but since the symbiote is a part of me the fact remains, we together are the black spider. Brock smirked to himself; I wonder if Parker ever thinks of the spider that infected him as his equal? I wonder if he feels at one with the entity that he owes his existence too?

Brock flexed his fists and only narrowly controlled the release of the dormant dark god inside him as his mind turned to the spider…

Gwen's eyes grew troubled as her hand pulled away, "He sav-saved me. Spiderman saved me."

Brock glared at her and pulled her hand back to him, pressing the flesh against the dark angry scar, "You will never be left for him to defend again Gwen. You are mine now. Like you always should have been. You will never need more than me at your side, baby girl."

Her eyes widened as he again used her attackers words. She realised what he was doing. He was taking away Wade's power over her… the fear. He was reminding her that it was not her that was left bleeding in the alley.

He mocked her attackers; weakening them in her mind so that they represented no more of a threat to her than she was willing to allow them to be.

He settled her against him, "You don't have to be afraid of them, Gwen. Not with me beside you. Believe that." His eyes slid over her and a hard smile curled his lips, "I would have killed him if you hadn't stopped me, baby girl. I would have dropped his corpse at your feet."

He felt her tremble and he held her closer, "I still might, Gwen. If I see you are still afraid… I can't stop myself from thinking about it…"

Her troubled eyes met his and he continued, "If I can't get the image of him shoving your skirt up readying him to rape you out of my mind I'm going to have to kill him, Gwen."

His hard eyes held hers and she was sure she felt the black spider move under her hand and she pressed harder against him, comforted by the strength that pulsed under her fingers. "Please don't Eddie… please don't. He isn't worth it Eddie."

Brock smiled and set down his mug as his hands circled her hips, "It isn't about him Gwen;it's about us. No one touches you, Gwen. You are mine." He pinned her against him and the hard smile died on his lips, "Tell me you are mine, Gwen."

A minute thread of fear coursed through her as she realized how dangerous an answer other than the truth would be in this situation, so she told him what she knew to be true, what had become true just hours before. "I am yours, Eddie."

Her eyes drifted over his face and the darkness persisted, "You think by telling me that that you may have cost that fucker his life don't you?" When she nodded he sighed, "You might have, but you told me anyways… why Gwen?"

She took a deep breath and pulled his face down to hers, "Because it's true." His growl of approval escaped against her lips as she kissed him and he tightened his arms around her. The next words brought it home for them both, "But I was wrong too. I never should have been there with him." Her eyes remained down, submissive as she confessed her ignorance, "But I didn't know, Eddie. I didn't know it was you that I was looking for... all this time. I have been so lost…"

He pressed her against him, crushing her to his chest as his lips whispered into her temple. "I'm sorry baby. I had to find myself before I could ever be in a position to come for you."

She exhaled a breath and a soft sob followed, you saved me Eddie. She felt a tear falling out of her eyes as she looked over the city and felt the pain and loss of her father rise up in her chest. "My father spent his life trying to save people; save this city, and look what happened. Gunned down in front of a restaurant breaking up a fight between two punk gang members."

Brock listened as her anger poured out, "His entire life cumulated in that one last act to try and bring justice and stop the escalation of violence between people and it cost him everything…. it cost me everything and it was for nothing."

Brock didn't argue the alternate because he didn't believe she was wrong. It was all for nothing. Guys like Gwen's father and Spiderman thought they were making a difference when really unless you were willing to see things through to a bloody end you hadn't made any difference at all.

He felt his chest tighten as Gwen looked up at him, "I didn't mean to put you in a position like that Eddie. That you had to save me from those bastards… you could have been hurt tonight because of me…"

His eyes narrowed and he regarded her carefully, "I'm no hero Gwen. You and I both know what I think." He in no way seemed embarrassed by the admission. "What I did … I did for you, not out of some misguided duty to this fucking city. I hope that doesn't disappoint you."

Gwen blinked up at him and he was relieved not to see judgment in her eye. He felt her cool lips press against his and then he heard her whisper, "Heroes are overrated."

Brock thought of Peter Parker and his lips sneered, "You are damn right about that baby."

Xxxxx

Hours later they lay in his bed as the city began to wake around them. Brock lay on his stomach, turned away from her. Gwen had no way of understanding that in his sleep he didn't wish his darkest side be exposed to her.

She lay resting on her side watching the heavy rise and fall of his ribs as they worked to fill his cavernous chest with air. She reached a hand to his side, hesitant to touch him that she might startle him awake or worse yet have him draw away from her touch. Her fingertips stopped short of her target, then suddenly she felt his hard hand grasp her wrist and pull her firmly against him, wrapping her arm around his torso.

Gwen collided softly against his broad back and realised only then that he was still deeply asleep. How had he? She looked at Eddie's hand which had laced itself with her fingers and her lips smiled in spite of the eeriness of his act. It was like he knew I was about to touch him she shook her head against the unease she felt, understanding that she must have brushed the sensitive skin on his side and not realised it.

She settled herself against him letting her body rest over him as her cool cheek pressed against the warmth of his back. She felt herself relaxing to the rhythmic rushes of air into his lungs. She sighed and tucked her leg over his as she allowed her body to rest against his muscular form. Eddie's low groan of approval brought a small smile to her lips as Gwen Stacy lost herself in dreamless sleep.

THE END