A/N: A slightly shorter chapter, so that the next one is uninterrupted action!

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

Chapter 25: Wannabes

The taxi drove off. Peter watched it go, then turned to the Stanford Building in front of them. Curt Connors had suggested they meet there; they were a little late, given the traffic, but Mary-Jane had been against him taking the subway with his injury. It was still very early evening, and it would be light for a few hours yet. Peter saw a figure approach the glass doors of the entrance lobby and wave. "Come on," he said to Mary-Jane, "There's Curt."

"Well, well," said Curt, laughing when he caught a closer look at Peter, "That's carrying adulation a bit too far!"

Peter chuckled. "Good to see you too. Do you remember Mary-Jane?"

Chatting easily, Dr. Connors led them up to is lab. "Now," he said, ushering them in, "What have you got for me?" Peter thought he would have been rubbing his hands together if he had had both.

They started getting involved in their chemical puzzle. After a while, Peter looked up and noticed Mary-Jane in her chair looking extremely bored. She looked him in the eye.

"Pete, can you make me a promise that you'll keep?"

"Uh, sure MJ." Peter was immediately on the defensive - it wasn't his fault that he hadn't been able to keep his promises in the past…

"I'm going to do a couple of things while I'm here in New York - you promise you'll stay here with Dr Connors until I return? I won't be long." She stood up, her long hair swinging down the back of her camel coat.

"I'll see you later Curt. I know you'll take good care of Peter." She gave him a terrific smile, then left.

"Hoo boy, your wife does that too?" Connors said consolingly, catching Peter's sheepish grin, then changing the subject, "Well now, what do you think of this isotope…"

An insistent knocking brought itself to the attention of Peter. He and Curt Connors were fine-tuning the antidote to neutralise the affects of the Untongued's drug. Curt was just as involved as he in the process and hadn't heard the sound either. Peter looked sideways and saw Spidey at the dark window. He acted surprised.

"Uh, Curt? I think you've got a visitor…"

Connors looked up. "It's Spider-Man! I remember, there's something he wanted to know…" He went over and opened the window.

"Thanks," said Spidey, entering, "I can wait while you finish up." Then as if realising who Connor's assistant was, "Parker! At least you don't have your camera with you this time."

Peter smiled at the good-natured ribbing.

"You two know each other?" asked Connors, as he poured a small amount of the antidote into a test-tube containing the strength formula and swirled it around.

"Yeah. Hi Spidey." Peter was conscious of her eyes on them as they finished testing. The liquid in the tube turned purple as Connors added a few drops of a solution to it. "There," he said, satisfied, "All done."

"I can see you've neutralised something there," commented Spidey, trying to sound scientifically knowledgeable.

Peter smothered a chuckle.

"Any further news for me?" she continued, "It's OK, Parker can stay, he's…" She coughed suddenly.

Peter looked hard at Spidey, but it was hard to tell what she was thinking behind that mask. Connors didn't notice anything amiss though.

"It appears as if I was mistaken in one of my pieces of information last time I spoke to you; I thought it would be a while until Dr. Octavius gained a Chair. I've since learned his application has been fast-tracked - he will be appointed at the end of the week, a Chair in Neurobiology. And he intends to hold a press conference to coincide with his appointment."

"The 'new discovery' he's been claiming?"

"I presume so."

"When's the conference?"

"Thursday afternoon, here at ESU."

Spidey's head turned to face Peter. This time, he could tell exactly what she was thinking. He gave a minute shake of his head. Spidey turned back to Dr Connors.

"I'll have to be there then to find out more. Thanks for the information Doc…"

"Not a problem at all. I… ah, see Peter wants a private word with you, so I'll leave you for a few minutes. I've got something on the boil…"

Peter almost blushed himself - his body language must have been fairly obvious.

"Uh, thanks Curt."

Dr Connors smiled at him "I won't tell Mary-Jane if you don't," he said with a wink as he shut the door behind him.

They listened to his footsteps recede. Spidey dropped down from the wall she had been sticking to, and walked over to the bench the formulae were on. "This is it?" she asked, tapping the side of a beaker.

"Yes." Peter decanted some through a small funnel into a syringe. "Quickly, give me a couple of web cartridges - I'll inject this solution into them."

While he was doing this, he asked her "Why did you cough before?"

"I, er, I was about to say something particularly lame, even for Spider-Man, but I caught myself just in time, specially with Connors here too..."

"Well?"

In a small voice, she said, "I was going to say 'Parker can stay, he's 'armless'."

"Aw no!" Peter chuckled as he searched around Dr Connor's desk and found a small bottle of white-out, which he used to paint marks on the cartridges. "So you don't get them mixed up."

Spidey replaced them into the belt. "I've got a few hours before I meet with these larrikins, eh."

"Are you nervous?"

"No… not yet…" Peter could sense she was smiling under her mask. "I'm more worried about Doc Ock - If he has that press conference on Thursday, it doesn't give us much time to prepare. That'd be the perfect chance to confront him… expose him for the academic fraud he is… if only we knew!"

"No, there'll be too many people around if it came to a fight - which knowing Ocky… We'll have to bring this to a head before then."

"Eek, an even tighter time-frame. OK, I hope we don't suck the kumara on this one." She headed to the window. "I'll see you later. Say bye to Connors for me. Cheerio!"

Peter watched as she climbed out, and sighed. He started cleaning up as he waited for Dr. Connors to return. Erica was still so gung-ho as Spidey, but at the same time, she was a better detective than he was when he started out, rushing headlong into situations relying totally on his spider-powers and his wits to get him out. He felt somewhat depressed now that he had finished the formula for the antidote; he had only a few more pages of the tunnel lab notes to decipher, and then what? He'd be a useless lump again. There was no real point in MJ sticking around; she'd just be twiddling her thumbs too, like tonight.

In a thoroughly sour mood now, Peter looked for two containers; one to put the rest of the antidote in, and the other for the strength formula they had made up to begin with, so he could take them home, with the vague idea they may be useful to the police…

He heard voices; Connors and Mary-Jane. Peter couldn't wait to leave now, although he didn't fancy going back to the apartment just yet either. Maybe he could convince MJ to catch a movie with him - have an old-fashioned date together…

…………………………………………………….

"Help! Hellppp!" The screams reached Spidey as she was slowly swinging around, killing time before meeting with the Untongued. She had already inspected the traditional abandoned warehouse that Hudson had supplied for the venue, and was almost certain the Untongued would do the same, even stash some weapons there.

"Help!"

Spidey landed on a ledge and peered over into a dark alley. A woman, man and two small children, very scared, were holed up in a corner against a brick wall, and were being terrorised by two teens dressed in long black overcoats. Spidey let herself silently down on a web-line, hanging upside down out of view of the two to get a better look. 'Oh, great,' she thought, 'Matrix wannabes.' The teens were all in black, leather everywhere, and wearing black shades. One had a samurai sword, a katana, and was waving it around in front of him in figure-of-eights; the other was holding a small dark object that Spidey couldn't quite make out. The family appeared to be tourists that had wondered away from the well-populated streets and had got lost. It was the woman screaming - she seemed more scared of the small object than she did the sword flashing in front of her. 'Or Blade wannabes - not that it makes much difference.' Whatever, it was time to intervene.

'Thwip!' A thin strand of webbing stuck to the sword and whipped it out of the teen's hands and sent it clattering along the side of the brick building. The guy hardly had time to gape in astonishment, when a taunting voice rang out behind him.

"Tricky little buggers, aren't they? Could give you a real nasty cut if you're not careful."

The teens whirled around, coat flaps flying. Spidey had time to see the family react like stunned mullets to her sudden appearance before noticing what the second, shorter, blond teen held dangling from his hand.

"What's that, a rat?" she asked in disbelief. "What are you gonna do with it; shoot me?"

By now, they had recovered from their surprise. The dead rat was swung and thrown at Spidey, who with an effortless twist, avoided it. "Ooo, that was real scary…"

At once, both put their hands inside their coats, under which was glimpsed a huge arsenal of weaponry; knives, numchakas, shurikens, guns.

"Oh Man," Spidey laughed, "What else you got under there, the Seventh Regiment Armory?" She leapt and twisted in the air, her spider-sense giving her enough warning as a dozen shuriken whizzed past. Crouching low, she reached out with an arm and caught an inexpertly thrown bolas, whirled it fast and let it go back to it's originator, catching him about the legs and felling him. "Hey Ratty, if you had another brain, you could start a rock garden."

The taller teen sneered. "You've taken out the novice; let's see how you fare against a Master of the Dragon-Fire!"

"Oh, please!" Spidey rolled her eyes under her mask as she stood up - she didn't think the teen had any powers, and guessed he had only limited martial arts training; he must have seen one too many movies or cartoons. She moved slowly back in the alley, hoping to lead him away from the cowering family; as she had hoped, he paced forward to keep a close distance between them.

He pulled out a flame thrower and with it at it's highest setting, aimed it towards Spidey. Only she wasn't there. He felt a tap on his shoulder, and whirled about, flame and all, to find… nobody. Her voice came from above him.

"Hey, Hotshot, flambé spider's not on the menu today."

The flame veered up, but again Spidey had vanished.

"Where are you?" the youngster screamed, plainly irritated and goaded by Spidey's antics. "I'll fry you!"

"Tut tut, don't get your tukus in a twist. I'm right here." Her voice was behind him again. He turned suddenly, but his flame met only brick.

"Missed me!"

Enraged, the teen started careering about in circles, aiming everywhere with the blow torch. The light from the flame cast eerie shadows on the walls, which in turn became targets for the flame. Abruptly, the fire flared and went out as the propane tank emptied, leaving the alley in darker blackness. One of the young children could be heard whimpering in the background, with the mother making frantic 'shushing' sounds to it.

The teen she'd downed earlier had untangled his legs, and had now limped up to the side of his mate. They looked at each other briefly and both pulled out guns from under their coats, aiming them at Spidey; her spider-sense buzzed a strong warning. Immediately she leapt back and against the side of a large rubbish skip nearby.

"Guns. I hate guns." Spidey muttered. In such close quarters, she didn't have much of an advantage against them, even with her spider-speed, she didn't want to risk the family getting hurt either.

"Hands up, Bug," growled Ratty.

"We're gonna squash ya this time," said the other.

"Gee, that must be the second original thought you've had." Spidey slowly raised her hands - they touched the top edge of the skip. This gave her an idea. She waited until the two teens relaxed slightly at her seeming acquiescence, then gripped the edge of the bin and using her incredible strength and speed, flipped it over her head so that the skip and it's contents, up-ended over the two, trapping them.

Muffled yells of outrage started up, and one of them fired his gun; the amount of rubbish and the thickness of the skip's side meant that the bullet didn't travel far.

"Hey! Let us out of this dumpster!"

Spidey banged the side of the skip with her fist, "Can it, you guys," then ignored them, and turned her attention instead to the huddled family.

"It's OK, they're just trash," she said. "They won't be troubling you any more. Are you all right?"

The father stood up straight, hugging his elder son who couldn't be more than five, in front of him.

"Wh-who are you?" he asked, eyes wide at the scene he had witnessed. Surely no human was that fast…

"Who am I? Just your friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man!"

The mother still crouched by the wall, cradling her toddler, but the young boy piped up, fear already forgotten. "I've heard of you!" he said. "You're famous. How do you see out of those eyes?"

"Sam, be quiet!" shushed the mother, standing up.

Spidey laughed, "No, he's cool. Well Sam," she said, crouching down to his level, "These are my special spider eyes; I can see out, but you can't see in."

He nodded, accepting, and placed a hand on her arm, peering into her eye-pieces to test her statement. Suddenly, he darted forward, gave her a quick hug, and went back to his dad. Taken aback, Spidey stood up.

Dad held out his hand to shake her's. "Thanks, Mate," he said, "You saved us all there. One thing though, how did you pick us as New Zealanders?"

"Huh?" Spidey grew puzzled - she had realised this as they spoke, but how did he know?

"Don't get your tukus in a twist - only a Kiwi would say that…"

Spidey was glad she was masked as she felt the heat rising in her face. "I'm a bit of a bullshit artist, eh," she said, putting on an extreme 'New Zild' accent. Then, trying to sound as much like Peter as she could, continued "I've a friend who's a Kiwi. Are you OK for getting back to your hotel?"

"No worries."

"I'll be slinging my web then. See ya 'round Sam." She shot off a line, and with a wave she was gone.

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