A/N: This is coming along well, even if I do say so myself… What do you think?

Cheers,

Apteryx

*************************************

Chapter 7: Two Meetings and A Chat.

It was funny how close terror and exhilaration were. Erica had never thought about it before. She hadn't needed to; she normally wasn't the sort who went in for extreme adventure sports. Sailing was the closest she'd been to that sort of high before - heck, she hadn't even bungy jumped. Rushes of adrenaline usually made her feel sick, not high. Last night though, she was sure she felt both at once.

Erica started flipping through the pile of photographs to be filed. Spider-Man. This must be one of the last shots Peter had taken of himself as his alter-ego. Erica studied it closely. How could anyone mistake her for the real thing? She doubted whether the plan would work. She really would have to be fast and silent, though the silence could work against her; not a typical Spidey trait.

And she would have to hope like anything that one of the more powerful villains didn't show up. Common thugs she thought she could deal with. Maybe. She knew she'd be out of her depth if a fight became more involved. She sighed, and started typing out classification labels on the computer. She was very glad that Peter was around to help her, and she had agreed to become Spider-Man for a while, and it was true that being Spider-Man was helping her to come to terms with her powers, but…did she really want the rest of what was involved in being Spider-Man?

Yeah, it was fun jumping and web-swinging and possibly even wall-crawling, but the fighting aspect… Erica could still hear in her mind the sickening crunch of bones breaking in the leg of that mugger in Central Park. She continued to feel guilty about that, and she knew that in being Spider-Man and stopping criminals it would involve fighting that may result in more injury and perhaps even, inadvertently, death. How much force was justified? Sure, they were 'bad guys' but would using excessive force put her on a par with them? Spider-Man really was that close to being a vigilante - she didn't think she could be the same. She knew the real Spider-Man was able to temper the force he used in fighting, and she did so herself last night, but if she forgot herself… She'd have to ask Peter how he was able to restrain himself - was it only conscience? She somehow suspected it was.

She printed out the labels and stuck them on the photos. She then picked up the pile she'd sorted and went over to the cabinets and began opening drawers and dropping the photographs in the correct dividers. She looked up at the clock on the wall, hoping it was near lunch already, she wanted to go and buy a small backpack - carrier bags were not the solution. Close enough to lunch time. Erica finished her task and quickly left the building. She had agreed to meet Peter for lunch at the 'local' café later, but not only did she want to get a backpack first, she wanted to try web-slinging in daylight. It was risky, and she knew Peter wouldn't approve, but she had to do it - had to make herself do it, else she'd lose the nerve. She was sure things would be very different as Spider-Man during the day. It would create exposure for Spider-Man too, possibly a good thing.

A short time later saw Spidey flinging herself at the end of web-lines through Midtown's glass and stone canyons. She knew how high up she was, but it didn't bother her; the equilibrium she'd gained and her spider-sense, seemed to act as an invisible safety net. She decided on a whim to head further west; why not explore a different part of the city? She could see the traffic and the crowds beneath her as she travelled. Not many looked up. As she got further west, the height of the buildings got lower, and she was closer to the ground…and people. She'd catch the sight of an individual here and there who'd see her swinging. Spidey waved and turned upside down for a space, or executed a little somersault before flinging out another line. Showing off. That should get me noticed, she thought.

She flipped up onto the roof of an apartment building and paused there. I'd better check my web-fluid levels - I've got to have enough to get back as well. She quickly and unobtrusively did so, and was relieved to find they were O.K., though Peter would definitely have to mix up some more.

She moved to the other side of the roof top, preparing to take off again, aware that she had to be back in time for lunch, when her spider-sense went off. This time it was warning her someone else had joined her on the roof. If only it wasn't 'Ray-Man' - it was too soon. She hoped she hadn't just stuffed up their chance! She did a fast leap-and-turn in mid air as she was thinking, and landed ready to leap again if need be, but when she saw who it was coming up behind her, she relaxed and stood upright. She faced a man dressed entirely in a fitting red costume. Only his lower face was visible. She waited for him to speak.

"You're not Spider-Man." The statement was almost a question. He had sensed her relax, and was puzzled.

"Well, no…and yes." replied Spidey. Her spider-sense was still active, but even so she wasn't prepared when Daredevil rushed at her and pushed her up against the side of the roof exit. She was dwarfed by this large man, and while she knew she was stronger than him and could easily defeat him if she wished, she still felt threatened and scared.

"Who are you? What have you done with Spider-Man?" growled Daredevil.

"Look," she almost squeaked, "You may be the 'Man without Fear', but I'm not! Let go of me, and I'll tell you!" Daredevil hesitated but continued to hold her against the wall. She sighed, then slowly and gently placed her hands around Daredevil's upper arms, and just as slowly and gently picked him up and placed him on his feet away from her. She let go, and leaning against the wall, 'sat' on it with her feet off the ground. Her spidey-sense had died down and gone. Daredevil looked less grim, but waited silently for her to begin speaking.

"He knows about me - he's training me. Something happened, and I gained his powers when he lost them…" She looked at Daredevil for his response. She started to understand just how unnerving a masked superhero could be to people - blimey, Spider-Man must be the same… or worse with those huge opaque eyes.

Daredevil continued his silent regard of her - she felt that he was using other senses in assessing her. Finally, he too relaxed. "Don't tell me who you are," he said, "but please tell me; is Spider-Man all right?"

"Yes, yes he is. We're working together to solve…our little problem." She hopped lightly off the wall.

"If he needs help, tell him he can call on me. Give my regards to him."

"Yes Matt, I will" And she flipped to the edge of the roof, and leapt off. "Cheerio!" she called, as she webbed away. She grinned at the brief sight she'd had of him, still standing there, with a look of total astonishment on the half of his face she could see. Then she concentrated on getting back Midtown as quickly as she could. She bet she was late for lunch.

As she swung, she thought about the meeting - the fear she'd felt. Daredevil was one of Spidey's friends for God's sake, and she'd been scared. What if she met one of his enemies? Being scared hadn't stopped her acting yet, but she was not sure it would always be that way. Oh yeah, 'feel the fear and do it anyway', but did that apply to superheroes?

Erica raced to the café, her almost empty backpack bouncing against her back as she ran. She was careful not to go too fast - she had to be aware of that now. She flung herself into the vacant chair opposite Peter. "Sorry I'm late!" she apologised. She wasn't puffed at all, but she could feel the heat rising in her face, and not from the exertion either.

Peter paused with his coffee cup wavering by his chin, his hazel eyes narrowing as he looked steadily at Erica. He took a sip, put his cup back on the table and said mildly, "Have a good time?"

Erica grinned. "Matt Murdock sends his regards," she said.

Peter's face twitched. "Well, that's nice of him. Did you two have a good talk?" he teased her, straight-faced.

"Uh, there wasn't much conversation involved."

"Heh." Erica could see that Peter was amused - he probably had a fairly accurate picture of the encounter. Erica was glad he was taking it so well; she almost expected him to treat her as an errant child. She didn't think it was because they were in a public place either. She knew he wouldn't believe any excuses - he knew them all by now! Perhaps he knew she had to find her own way as well. She could rely on him to help - if he saw she needed it.

"Um, do you have any change? I need a cuppa. Have you eaten?"

"No, I was waiting for you…Don't worry," he continued seeing the expression of contrition on her face, "I haven't been here long. Honestly!"

After they had eaten, they headed back to the apartment. Erica could see that Peter was quite happy hanging around his apartment. He must enjoy being normal. He'd probably like some time to himself, to potter around. "I'm going to go off and do a couple of things this afternoon" she told Peter. "No Spider-Man, I promise…"

"Don't make a promise you might not be able to keep. That got me in trouble a lot."

"No, no, I mean it - look, I'm going to take the Spidey outfit off." Erica pulled out the mask, gloves and boots, then pushed up her sleeves to reveal the web-shooters.

Peter sighed "I suppose I need to re-fill them anyway. You can watch if you want." Erica passed him the shooters. Peter took them and she followed him into his bedroom, where he went to his desk and unlocked a drawer with a key Erica hadn't seen him get. He took out various bottles and packets, a couple of tools, pulled up a chair to the desk, sat down and set to work. Erica watched closely. Peter seemed to forget she was there, and absent-mindedly spoke as he worked.

"I was doing a school project on long chain polymers - the newest thing out - when I received the spider powers. Somehow, the bits I was missing to complete my project all fell into place, which is how I was able to invent the webbing. Something similar has probably been invented since, but looked at for different applications - no reason why researchers would think of using it as spider-silk. However, I did recently read a group was close to duplicating a practical, organic spider-silk, though with proteins and DNA rather than artificial chemicals. I'm sure it will have a much wider application than my stuff." He stopped and chuckled. "They inserted the DNA into goats; apparently the silk glands of spiders and the milk gland of goats are practically identical." He glanced sideways at Erica. "The goats were imported from New Zealand. Coincidence?"

"Spook-y!"

Peter made a few more adjustments to his formula, and began using one of the tools to re-fill the cartridges. Then he snapped them into the web-shooters and turned in his chair to face Erica. "Next time you're Spider-Man, you can practise changing cartridges too. And I thought tonight we'd do our stake-out for Ray."

"Right-o. In the meantime, I'm going to have a shower and then leave you in peace."

Erica made her way back to the Daily Bugle offices. She figured to do a little more work… and a little research. Had there been any sightings of the 'alter-ray' man, any clues as to who he is and where he might be found? She had the feeling that there was probably someone behind him. And another thing that was bugging her. How had the Bugle got the information about Spider-Man's 'demise' so quickly? Who passed that information on? Oh yeah, 'sources' and all that, but what could be the harm in asking?

Erica moved through the reporters' office space, gathering file photos that had been used and were waiting to be re-filed. She made her way to the corner where Joe Robertson had his desk - he seemed friendly - he was also an astute guy…she'd have to be careful… Robbie was leaning on his desk, flipping through some papers and shaking his head.

He looked up as Erica neared, and said, exasperated, "Will you look at this? Jonah's off his tree…if I wasn't here to qualify his editorials, we'd be constantly sued more than we are…"

"Does that really happen often? I mean, getting sued and that? I thought the US constitution had a big thing on Freedom of Speech, or doesn't that apply to newspapers?"

"Ahh, the First Amendment. Well…it does and it doesn't. I was exaggerating slightly. A lot also depends on the political climate, and the owners of the paper - they can force a particular editorial slant to reflect their political values. The Bugle's pretty lucky in that regard - we can keep politically neutral. But… the editorial bias is anything but neutral in other matters…the bosses let Jameson have free reign… he creates controversy, which sells newspapers…which makes them money." Robbie sighed, and put the papers he was holding down on his desk. He folded his arms. "Though publishing libel could end up losing them money, they're willing to walk that fine line…"

"Oh! That explains…I haven't been in New York for very long, but reading the papers over the last few days…I did notice the Bugle…wondered how they could get away with some of those outrageous statements." Erica paused, and Robbie stood up straight and waved her into the spare chair by his desk, the walked around and sat in his own chair. He was settling in for a proper chat, thought Erica. Good.

"What do you mean?" Robbie asked.

"Well, some of the articles seem a bit…empty. I'm not disparaging the reporters, but…there's not a lot of fact backing these articles, they appear to be based on hear-say. I thought if you were going to publish an assertion, then you'd have…something to back it up."

"You ever take journalism classes?"

"No."

"Journalists not only look for facts. They also look for stories, especially if they're going to be tomorrow's breaking news. Printing a leak, even a small one, could lead to a much bigger story - kudos for the paper…for the reporter. It's accepted practise."

"Oh. Like…like that article the other day about Spider-Man…that he was no more. It just said 'a reliable source' - and that's O.K.?"

"Yeah, sure."

"So who's a reliable source when he's at home….who provides leaks and information to you?"

"People. People who are unhappy in their jobs; people who feel they are providing a public service; who want a small bit of control or power. Different motivations. What makes a source reliable, is if they've given us information in the past, and it's proved correct. Of course, you still have to use your own judgement, it's still your own call…"

Erica pretended to be mildly astonished as she said "And that Spider-Man source had given you accurate stuff before?"

"Yep."

"Who is he? Does he know Spider-Man?"

"Can't divulge our sources…"

"Uh. I've heard that one before!"

Robbie laughed. Erica grinned and said "I know I'm curious. Tell me to mind my own business…"

"No, no! But what I can tell you are some of the other news items he's provided us with. Look, I'll scribble them down for you - you might want to look them up for yourself in the morgue. I'll also add a couple of books you could read about the journalism industry that you might find interesting."

"Um…thanks!" Erica tried not to let any excitement show. Interest was fine, but not excitement…

"So," said Robbie, handing a piece of paper over to Erica, who took it, glanced at what was written, and put it in her pocket, "So… don't newspapers in New Zealand get sued?"

"I don't think so…but they must take a lot of legal advice, eh - I've seen many apologies printed!"

"Heh."

Erica was glad the conversation changed direction: being a foreigner had probably allayed any suspicions Robbie may have had. Why would a visitor to the U.S.A. be vitally interested as to who a particular newspaper source was? She and Robbie chatted for a few more minutes, then she said "I've taken up enough of your busy time, I'm afraid. Thanks for answering my silly questions. You've given me a lot to think about…"

"A pleasure to have someone interested. Parker's lucky to have an intelligent cousin like you."

Erica blushed "Er…I'd better get back to work…See ya."

"Bye now." Robbie smiled as Erica walked away, and then bent over the papers on his desk once more.

Going into the Bugle's newspaper archive to use the computer in the photo library, Erica thought about what she had learnt - the list of other news the source had given info on; and the assumption that the source was a 'he' hadn't been corrected, so that was possibly certain. She was hoping to find a common link between the articles, something that would hopefully narrow down the search. Another thought struck her; Robbie had been able to write the news items from memory. The source must have gone direct to him. She hoped that the time between the items wasn't too close. That could mean that the source was trying to establish himself as reliable as a lead up to Spider-Man being taken out of action. There they were; all the articles - four of them - had been about Spider-Man. That figured of course. But what about him?

The first one was about a villain he'd fought called Arcade. The second was saying that Spider-Man had been seen falling off the side of a building, 'Is Spider-Man losing it?'; then one about Spider-Man intercepting what he thought were a gang of criminals doing a drug heist, but who turned out to be delivering much-needed medical drugs to a clinic; and the final article had an eye-witness account of Spider-Man breaking and entering into business premises.

Erica read them, but made no immediate connections between them. She'd have to ask Pete, and hope her idea wasn't just a wild goose chase… She printed them out and folded the paper into her pocket. She did a search to find out the details of the locales of the articles - two of them did - the breaking & entering and the medical clinic. Photos - any photos? She found one of Arcade - man, what bad fashion sense. She searched out background on the people and places mentioned, and printed them all out - she'd read them later.

Well, while she was in research mode, perhaps she should answer a few inquiries… Erica spent the next couple of hours searching through the photo library and answering letters, She was glad none of the inquiries involved having a personal knowledge of New York or it's history - she knew only the extreme basics. She chuckled to herself - probably as much as a lot of native New Yorkers knew, even though they'd hate to admit it.

Finally she glanced at the clock and figured that she had given Peter a good three hours to himself. She visited the Accounts department and handed in a time-sheet - she had to give Jameson one thing; he was meticulous about making sure under-the-table payments were made promptly! Waving good-bye to a couple of the Bugle's staffers, she passed by Helen's stony disapproval and out of the building. There were a few spits of rain - Erica walked briskly back to the flat.

Coming out of the shuddering lift - surely that thing didn't have a warrant of fitness? - Erica slipped her backpack off and opened the unlocked apartment door. Just as she was about to enter and dump her bag on the table, her spider-sense went off. Something…wrong…inside the flat! Cautiously she moved into the living area, prepared to take action immediately if she needed to. There on the couch in front of her, looking pissed off, was a stunning redhead. Erica gaped; what was Mary-Jane doing in New York? Where was Peter? Oh hell, she was in for it now!

********************************

Next: MJ in New York