NINE

The lady in red is dancing with me

Cheek to cheek

There's nobody here

It's just you and me

It's where I wanna be

But I hardly know this beauty by my side

I'll never forget the way you look tonight

*Lady In Red-Chris de Burgh*

Brad turned around when he heard a female voice calling his name. He sucked in his breath sharply when he saw who it was. Mary Jane waved at him from the top of the steps to her apartment. She was wearing a crimson red low-cut dress that hugged her shapely figure and accentuated her long legs. Her hair was held back with a simple gold barrette and they fell in curls around her shoulders. Put in a colonial mansion instead of NYC tall skyscrapers and she will fit in as the feisty Southern belle in 'Gone With The Wind'.

"My Scarlett!" Brad sighed, as he stooped down to kiss her hand, "My lady in red."

"My handsome Rhett! Mmm…nice moustache!"

"Lilly from Props found them for me." Brad replied, "You look really ravishing. I have a feeling we're going to win the Best Couple of the Night."

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's go!" Mary Jane said, as she slipped her arm into his.

The doormen greeted them with a courteous smile and opened the huge oak door, which leads into the ballroom. As Mary Jane stepped into it, she felt herself transported into a different era. Svarowski crystal chandeliers threw a soft glow from above them and lent a surreal atmosphere to the hall. Two cherubs carved out of pale blue marble adorned the foot of the steps, which lead to the large dining area.

The dinner was a huge success and after Mr. Caldwell's speech, the band striked up a lively tune. As Brad led Mary Jane to the dance floor, someone gently tapped them on their shoulders.

"A picture please for Daily Bugle?" The person said.

Mary Jane smiled into the camera and as the photographer lowered down his camera, she was surprised to see it was Peter Parker.

"Pete?" She quizzed.

"Hi, how are you?"

"I'm fine." Mary Jane replied, and then she remembered that she was supposed to be mad at him. "Working on a Saturday night?" she asked.

"That's the life of a journo photographer." Peter replied.

"Yeah? And ain't that a crying shame." Mary Jane said and added in a rather caustic tone, "Oh, I suppose Emily will understand."

Peter was surprised, "What about Emily?"

"Gee, I don't know. You ought to tell me coz' I saw her bawling her eyes out on some guy's shoulders last Saturday and that guy wasn't Harry."

Sensing that the talk was proceeding into a private argument, Brad wanted to make himself scarce. He excused himself by telling Mary Jane that he wanted a drink and perhaps, get one for her as well. With that, he left the two of them. When he returned later with two tall stem glasses of champagne, he found the two of them glaring at each other. Mary Jane's eyes were moist.

*Not good, not good at all.* Brad noted, as he tried to rake up something uplifting to say. But instead of saying something nice, he went and tripped over himself and spilled some of the drink on Mary Jane. Both men immediately searched their pockets for hankerchiefs but Brad produced one first before Peter.

As Mary Jane took the hankerchief from Brad, she said to Peter, "Try searching for it in Emily's laundry basket. I'll bet it's still there."

Peter just stood stock still, unsure of how to react as he watched Mary Jane led Brad to the dance floor. He had explained everything to her before Brad arrived with the champagne but the girl just refused to accept his explanation. *She's green to her toes with jealousy, Pete boy. And no rhyme or reason can stop that green-eyed monster.* Aunt May's voice reverberated in his head.

As he watched her twirled on the floor in Brad's arms, he realized the truth in that statement. She belongs to him as much as he belongs to her. If only he could just tell her who he really is and how he really feels, he would be in Brad's shoes right now. *Then, why don't you tell her right now? Do you really want to watch her dance with ANOTHER MAN?* His conscience nagged him.

Her feet moved mechanically in accordance to the rhythm but her heart and mind were elsewhere. Mary Jane could feel Peter's stares bore right into her back. All of a sudden, she felt a firm hand on her arm.

"Excuse me, Brad but MJ and I have not finished our little conversation just now." Peter said, taking her by the arm and guiding her towards the balcony where they'd have some privacy.

Once outside, Mary Jane pulled her arm away from Peter's grip and glared at him.

"That was damn rude, Peter Parker! What do you want now?" she asked him.

"I just wanted to make sure you understood what I said just now. I don't want you to feel something which isn't there." Peter replied.

"Frankly, I don't know how to feel. First, you cancelled our date saying you've got to meet your Professor and then I see you with Emily." Mary Jane said, her voice choked with emotions.

"I have explained to you what happened. Don't you trust me?"

"I do trust you. I wanted so much to trust every word you say but it's getting harder each day. I feel as though you don't tell me anything. How can you expect me to trust you when you don't?"

*Tell her then! Now's your chance! Tell her who you really are!* His conscience encouraged him.

"Sometimes I feel as though I don't know you at all." Mary Jane said, shaking her head.

"MJ, you know who I am." Peter said, slowly, as he held her shoulders with both arms, "I am-"

A loud explosion rocked the entire building. The lights went out momentarily and screams echoed through the hall. Mary Jane rushed into the hall and nearly fainted when she saw a chandelier came crashing down and pinned Brad to the ground. Mr. Caldwell who had rushed up to his son's aid fell like a sack of potatoes halfway across the dance floor-a fine needle sticking out at the back of his neck.

"Oh my God! Oh my God! Peter, call an ambulance!" Mary Jane shouted, as she rushed up to Brad.

Peter looked up just in time to see a shadowy figure leapt off from the balcony on his left. *Another freak hellbent on world dominion.* He sighed. Making sure that no one had seen him, he ripped off his clothes and put on his mask. He began to climb up to the roof.

Spiderman landed on the roof just in time to see a black figure leapt off from the edge. He ran up the the ledge and peered down. Noisy buses and yellow cabs filled the street below but no signs of the black figure.

*Who is it?* Spiderman wondered, as he turned around only to come face-to-face with his adversary.

"Looking for me?" The black figure asked. The voice was androgynous behind the black shiny mask. The villian delivered a hard blow to Spiderman's jaw, sending him over the edge.

As Spiderman plunged down to the busy street below, he launched out his trusty web and swung himself back on the roof.

"I believe our introduction was a little premature," Spiderman said, "So, hello again!"

Two darts sliced across the air towards Spiderman but deftly, he ducked to avoid them.

"Feel the wrath of the Black Sting!" The black figure yelled as it did a high somersault and delivered a flying kick aimed at Spiderman.

Spiderman leapt up and deflected the assault with a back kick. Black Sting fell back but managed to regain composure in a split second.

*Supernatural reflexes* Spiderman noted. *Not your average psychos.*

Black Sting launched into yet another onslaught of punches. In a flurry, these punches were delivered but Spiderman managed to deflect every blow. Moving backwards to ward off Black Sting's barrage of knuckle sandwiches, Spiderman found himself trapped between his assailant and the wall, he directed a spray of web at Black Sting's visor. It stunned the villian for a moment, just time enough for Spiderman to escape. He climbed up a pole and crouched down.

"Crawl down and fight, you creep!" Black Sting commanded.

"First tell me why are you so intend on squashing me!" Spiderman said.

Police sirens from below interrupted them and both turned in the direction of a small door, leading down to the building. Footsteps could be heard approaching that door.

"Next time, Spiderman! I will get my revenge!" Black Sting yelled, "Too long NYC had allowed a murderer to roam free on her streets!" With that, it disappeared over the edge.