Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Marvel characters. I own Jillian Finch and family, and Diamond. No touchy!
"Spider-Man. Long time no see."
"Hey, Finch. How've you been?"
"Just peachy. And yourself?"
"Fine."
"Save the world lately?"
"Uh...no. Not since last week."
Jillian laughed. It was hard not to. After all, Spider-Man was known for his sense of humor. She took a moment to inhale, realizing that, here she was, interviewing the Amazing Spider-Man (as he named himself). She crossed her legs, pulling her formal navy blue skirt down. She looked at the recorder sitting on the table between them. And then she looked at Spider-Man. It was not as awkward as her past interview for her section in the Daily Bugle had been. She thought it would be, since knowing the face underneath the mask does play with your mind a bit. But she smiled and acted professionally, though there was no need. The two were actually very close friends.
"So, Spider-Man. Do you ever take a moment and realize...wow...I am Spider-Man? Do you realize how many people want to be heroes? Want to be you?"
"I actually want to be Hannah Montana, but that's a little secret of mine."
Jillian laughed, her brown hair flowing in front of her face. "And I'm sure everyone else wants to be Hannah Montana. But can I ask you something?"
"You just did ask me something."
"You're last battle, with the Sinister Six...yes, the one I was also involved in. Did that stick with you? Are there certain battles that just leave a mark on you more than others?"
"Well, I--"
"Can you try to answer this one seriously?"
Spider-Man swallowed. "Well, yeah. That day at the Bugle scared me, Jillian. Mostly because I thought you were going to turn into some sort of murderer. You remember that day well, don't you? You almost shot Doctor Octopus."
"I did, with a plasma blaster," Jillian reminisced. Those few days had caused her so much pain. They had burnt down her house, attacked her family, taken over the Bugle building, threatened to destroy everything...
"And that stuck with me. Because I thought I was going to lose that part of you that I admire most. And then, of course, the fight with the Green Goblin after Gwen Stacy was killed. That...that stuck with me, too..."
Jillian shut the tape recorder off and put her hand on Spider-Man's knee. "What do you admire most about me?" she asked curiously.
He didn't hesitate. "Jillian Finch doesn't kill people."
"And neither do you, Spidey." To change the subject that was leading to an awkward silence, she said, "I can't believe Jameson agreed to this."
"I know. You got me in a private room, all to yourself. You have a cool job."
"Yeah. Not exactly what I thought I'd be doing, but, y'know, it's good. How's Mary Jane?"
Spider-Man swallowed. "Super. Our window's fixed now. You know. The one you jumped out of when Octavius attacked."
Jillian laughed. "Are we still on for the movie tonight?"
Spider-Man nodded and stood up. "Yep. It looks cute. MJ really wanted to see it." He moved towards a window, unlocked it, and opened it up. "Sorry to answer-questions-and-run, but I really should get back out there."
Jillian waved her hand. "Of course. Go do your thing."
Spider-Man nodded and leaped.
It was a few moments before she got up to shut the window. She looked out, seeing Spider-Man's shrinking figure in the distance. She then reached in her back-jean pocket and felt her Diamond mask. She was not a hero, she had told herself this. But she liked having the mask on her. Even without superpowers, she felt...well, powerful. Fearless. She had created Diamond back in her early days of reporting, when she was afraid she'd lose her job because she didn't have a story. Jameson seemed to love the idea that she really was Diamond, though, or so she liked to think.
Jillian took the tape recorder and headed up to the tenth-floor city room and found her desk. Betty Brant, the secretary, was busy on the phone. Billy Walters was chatting with someone Jillian didn't recognize, and Ben Urich was smoking a cigarette and typing away at his computer. Jillian opened up an new document, played back the recording, and thought of her story. She had to hurry, though; when it came to Spider-Man, her boss did not like to be kept waiting.
J. Jonah Jameson was the editor-in-chief of the Daily Bugle. He hated Spider-Man with every inch of his soul, and his famous editorials helped smear the Wall-Crawler's name. It did pain Jillian to work for a man that found her good friend to be a liar and a menace, but Peter Parker understood. Heck, he did it too. He was a freelance photographer: and Spider-Man was his secret specialty.
Jillian cleared her throat, took a sip of old, cold coffee, and began to type.
