A/N: I've figured it out - seven chapters to go after this one - and as a bonus, I'm also posting chapter 30 the same time as this one!

Cheers,

Apteryx

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Chapter 29: Set Up

A set of fingers, clad in red, curled themselves under the window frame as Peter watched, amused. He had been fixing coffee in the kitchen for himself and Mary-Jane after they had returned from dinner, and was staring out the window waiting for the percolator to finish while MJ was in the bathroom.

The window lifted up, and a head popped in.

"Hello! One white tea, no sugar please."

The head disappeared to be replaced a second later by a flurry of arms and legs as Spidey climbed through, to land on the floor next to Peter. He flipped the switch on the kettle again to boil the water for Spidey's tea. Shrugging off her backpack, peeling the mask off and taking a deep breath, Erica ran her fingers vigorously through her hair, making spikes stick up in a random fashion over her head.

"Did you get my message?" she asked.

"Yep, about 15 minutes ago. That's OK. How did your evening go?"

"I want to hear about yours first."

"Not much to tell. MJ and I went out for dinner and…"

"Peter?" yelled a voice from another room, "Is that Erica?"

"No hon, it's the telephone sanitiser come to sanitise our phone," Pete yelled back, watching Erica grin. He turned to her again.

"Before we ate out though, I went through all our notes - I'm sure there's still something missing, it's like those lab notes only have half the equation… I've come up with a theory - do you want to hear it?"

"Yeah, sure," said Erica. Peter searched her face; for a moment there, he thought he heard laughter in her voice, but she appeared only interested, with no trace of redness in her face at all. Peter continued making the tea and coffee while he spoke.

"OK. What do we have? A virus transmitting a drug to place its victims in a coma. What is the point of putting people in a coma? I think something else must take place while they are incapacitated. It can't be waiting for a certain event or amount of time to pass, because of the disparate backgrounds of the victims. Why does the lab have all that gene sequencing equipment if it's not used? Now, the main function of a virus is to copy its own genetic material into the cells of the infected organism. What if… if the virus is used to transmit different genetic material into its victims? What genes would Ock be inserting into these people?" He was almost talking to himself, surmising as he went along.

Peter took the mugs of coffee out of the kitchen, followed by Erica with her tea.

"That certainly sounds feasible," she said.

This time, Peter knew that she was laughing at him. He carefully placed the coffee on the table, only moving his lower arm to avoid any twinge of pain from his injury. He studied her, positive that she knew something now.

"OK," he said, with mock severity, "Spill it."

"I'm not going to spill my tea, when you've just made it for me!" She was definitely laughing…

"What did you find out this evening?"

Erica sat down, taking a slurp from her tea before answering.

"Nothing on Griffin Dealy, unfortunately. Total blank there, though I did run into Daredevil again, and he's going to do a brief search for us."

Peter was surprised - how did she convince him to do that?

Another person arrived at the table then; it was Mary-Jane, finished with her shower. She had her hair tied back in a loose knot, and was wearing jeans and a shirt, both close fitting.

"Continue as before. I want to hear too," she said. She picked up her coffee and took it over to the couch, sitting down and watching both Peter and Erica at the table.

Peter caught a glimpse through her eyes of what the scene must look like; an unshaven man with his arm in a sling, and a costumed super-hero, mask removed sitting down together for coffee. Not as weird as some New York sights, he supposed, but strange nonetheless. He turned back to Erica.

"And the lab?"

"The lab? It wasn't deserted this time - Whithead was already there…" Erica told them of their conversation. She stood and fetched her bag from the kitchen floor where she had left it, and produced the papers and the sample.

Peter took them in pale silence, and read the printout and the notes, with Erica and Mary-Jane waiting solemnly for him to finish. When he had, he looked up, his eyes seeing nothing, remembering past encounters with Otto Octavius; after the Green Goblin, Dr Octopus had given him some of his worst moments, but unlike the Goblin, Ock's plans were in some ways more straight forward - a little world domination, with side trips to rid himself of Spider-Man, who had stood in his way so many times before. Peter thought about tomorrow; Ock just had to expect Spider-Man at his conference. And he was out 'finalising details' tonight… that did not bode well. He sighed and laid the papers flat.

"It all hinges on his conference tomorrow, doesn't it? I suppose with this…" he tapped the paper, "…you could go to the police, but what would that achieve? They'd approach Ock, he'd agree to talk, throwing blame on Whithead. By the time they searched the lab, all damning evidence would be gone, and Ock free to plan again, only with worse effect. No, we have to stop him tomorrow…"

Mary-Jane frowned, not liking that 'we' she had heard from Peter. He tried to forestall her.

"You're coming too. I don't like the risk of exposing you to the virus as well, but you'd be useful, I couldn't be there…do anything without you. I'll be there as the Bugle's photographer. They're bound to send a reporter as well, but you can be my assistant… you know, change film in the camera for me, stuff like that…"

"What about Erica?"

"She'll be there, but as Spider-Man. You'll have to hide and time your entrance - I could give you a signal, if you want…"

"She's jake," Erica said.

Peter felt as though he were actually of use, planning their movements for tomorrow. He didn't mind the arm so much…

"Oh, and Erica?" he said, thinking of another aspect, "Perhaps you'd better drop by the venue at ESU later tonight, once Ock's gone - check out the place, look for any nasty surprises. I doubt he'd have set up the virus device yet, but traps for unwary Spiders…?"

"Gotcha. And in return, somethin' else to keep you occupied." Erica removed a couple of empty web-cartridges from her belt, and chucked them on the table. "I tested the web-foam - works great, but it's a one shot. These need refilling."

Peter smiled, "Gotcha," he repeated.

Erica flashed a small grin, grabbed her bag and disappeared into the bathroom.

"You're not going to do that now, are you?" asked Mary-Jane.

"No, tomorrow morning's soon enough." Peter wondered if Matt would be able to come up with a lead for them on Dealy, if they would be able to find him tomorrow; with a confrontation with Ock coming up, they needed to know if Dealy really was 'Ray-Man', and more importantly, what had happened to his weapon?

Erica yawned. Opening her eyelids seemed to take enormous effort, she didn't get nearly enough sleep last night. She yawned again mightily, her lower jaw joints popping, and rubbed her eyes as she sat up. This morning, there was no smell of cooking food, and she was alone in the living area. But there were the remains of a breakfast already on the kitchen bench, and although the bedroom door was still closed, she could hear noises from within. Erica hopped out from under her blanket and stood, scratching her head, yawning still. Blast these yawns. She padded over to the door and gave a couple of gentle taps; there was a small clattering sound, then the door opened.

Peter grinned. "You're up, O sleepy one!"

Erica replied with another yawn. "Whassup?"

"I'm mixing up some more formula, MJ's job hunting, and no word from Daredevil. And you've missed breakfast."

"Humph, I'll make my own." She turned back into the lounge, the door closing again behind her, incredulous that she had managed to sleep through the noise of someone moving about. She glanced up at the clock as she got dressed; it was after nine-thirty. That was a real sleep in for her! Running her fingers through her hair as a comb, she debated with herself whether it was too early to ring up Matt; nah… he was a lawyer, a working stiff, he'd have been up for ages, even with his night activities. Breakfast first though…

Flipping through the phone book, Erica finally found the number she wanted; Nelson and Murdock, Attorneys-at-law. She could have asked Peter if he knew, but she didn't want to disturb him if he were busy with the foam. She dialled the number, and was answered by a glib professional, who put her through to Matt immediately she gave her first name; he must have warned the receptionist to expect the call.

"I hope I'm not phoning too early…" she began.

"Not at all. Did you have a successful evening?"

"Depends on your definition of successful… but yeah, not too bad. And you? Any news about Griffin Dealy?"

There was a chuckle on the other end of the line. "Cut to the chase, huh? I have an address in New Jersey where he used to live, but it seems he recently left. No-one knows where to… I can continue the search if you want…"

Erica sat back - she had been on the edge of the chair, waiting to hear what she wanted to hear. "Uh, no… thanks for trying Matt, but I think it might be too late… Never mind, Pete and I'll figure something out."

"Fine. Give me a call if you need to. Until then; good luck."

"Thanks. Cheerio."

Erica replaced the handset and slumped down further. She was not looking forward to the afternoon. Stopping Doc Ock from setting off his virus device was not going to be a piece of cat's meat, no matter how hard she pretended it would be.

Last night, when she had gone to the new ESU Central Services building where the press conference was to be held, she had searched all around the huge foyer/auditorium for any traps or devices, using both her normal and spider-senses, but with zilch results. The device must still be waiting to be set up closer to the announcement, and as for possible traps, she'd be willing to bet that Ock also had something sneaky up one of his snaky tentacles.

But that wasn't what was really worrying her; where was Griffin Dealy?

Once Ock was out of the way, she'd have more time to concentrate on finding him, at least before the next big villain came along. She was beginning to see, to feel for herself, why Peter wasn't too sad to have a break, although it was not exactly a peaceful rest for him either. However, as if in contradiction to that thought, she also had another one; she noticed last night how happy he was to be actively involved and she suspected, that even if he didn't consciously know it himself, he would be happy to don the webs once more. It was not only a sense of responsibility, it was a strange inner compulsion, deep inside his psyche so that even without his powers, he could still not let go of the urge to be Spider-Man.

And herself? What was her inner compulsion? Erica could admit to herself now that she enjoyed having the spider-powers, that the fights didn't bother her as much as they had now she had the full confidence in her abilities. But - and she had to be honest about this also - did she want to stay here in this universe? It was more exciting, but would it still be exciting when she was plain Erica Stirling again?

She sighed, at the same time as Peter came out of his room.

"All done!" He flexed the fingers on his right hand, trying to relax the muscles after the close, delicate work they'd done. Then he noticed Erica's dejected stance.

"What's the matter? Got second thoughts about tackling Ock?"

"No, it's not that…" She gave another sigh, then straightened up. "I'm worried about 'Ray-Man'. I'm going out to do a last search for him, and I think I'll visit Mr Plod the Policeman while I'm about it. I don't know about you, but I can't think of a safe way to evacuate that building before Ock sets off his device, other than yelling 'everybody out' and having half the bally crowd ignore it anyway. I'd feel better giving the police a tip off and have them deal with the crowd while I deal with Ock."

Peter nodded. "You've been giving it some thought. Any strategies for this afternoon?"

"Yeah well… the main one was move fast and don't get distracted. Stay out of range of his arms… easier said than done I reckon." She grinned at Peter, who nodded in abstractedly in response, as if he were thinking of something else entirely.

Erica grinned some more and left him standing there as she headed towards the bathroom.

"See ya later."

A last look behind her before she took off, showed Peter still standing lost in thought.

After another fruitless search, Spidey headed across to the Precinct, and Sgt Hudson. Her ribs seemed a lot better this morning, though she still had some twinges every now and then - not enough to prevent her swinging to her full extent - the amount of vague rest she'd had was enough to help. Knowing now exactly where Hudson's office window was, she didn't waste time as she let go her web line and landed with a soft thud, sprawled with feet and hands touching the stone and positioned so that she could look inside. Spidey chuckled to herself; the capture of the Untongued must have generated untold paperwork, enough to keep Hudson busy for at least a week - she'd have to find out what was behind all of that business sometime...

She sat perched on the open window sill, head tilted down underneath the end of the venetian blind, looking over Hudson's shoulder at his desk where he was working, carefully and methodically.

"I knew something was keeping you off the streets…" Spidey threw in the comment, knowing it would be lobbed back to her.

"On or off, it's still essential work." Without pausing, the Sargent continued, "Come in - you'll be attracting attention there, we don't want to have you in for wasting police time."

"Really?" Spidey hopped down, jumped into the chair the other side of the desk, and sat back with her crossed feet up on the desk and arms folded across her chest. Hudson could choose to interpret that question in any way he liked. He chose his way.

"Not that we could hold you for long if you didn't want to be held."

Spidey grinned under her mask, idly wondering what it would feel like to be held by Bill Hudson. "Too right!" she said.

"So, what brings you here this time? Not just my pretty face…"

Don't count on it, thought Spidey to herself, watching the shadows fall across the planes of his face as he spoke, but aloud she said, "There's a certain person giving a press conference this afternoon - I'm wondering about the level of police presence at it…"

Hudson raised an eyebrow, then slowly put down his pen and leaned forward over his desk, his hands outspread.

"This 'certain person' wouldn't by any chance be someone you've crossed paths with before, would it?"

"You could say that." Spidey prevaricated; she hadn't, but Spider-Man had.

"And why should we provide a presence on your say so?"

Spidey sighed; she couldn't tell whether the sargent was serious, or having her on.

"Because I'm a recognised Hyphenate?" she replied, forcing herself to stay relaxed. It was the right approach. Hudson chuckled.

"All right. Obviously you know something we don't. For your information, we were going to have a few personnel there, but we'll increase it now, discretely. Any idea of…?"

"Evacuation, possibly contamination control…"

Hudson sat back up straight. "Conta… You're not kidding, are you?"

Spidey shook her head, sitting up straighter herself, "I only wish I were. And we can't stop him beforehand - he'd only re-group and come back deadlier than ever. This is our only chance - I'm not happy about the circumstances myself - not what I would've chosen, but…"

"We've got to make the best of it." Hudson sighed in turn. "OK Spider-Man, thanks for the heads up." He got out of his chair and went towards the window. "Perhaps when this is all over, I can have a good talk with you."

"Perhaps," agreed Spidey as she reached the window in one bound, "If I'm still around that is…" If she was still around, she would like a good talk too, but as Erica, not Spider-Man.

"Well, good luck, for all of us!"

"Luck is a talent I don't have. I can but hope for a spot of bricolage."

Spidey clambered out the window, staying just outside preparatory to swinging off - although her interlude with Hudson had been dwelling on an unpleasant matter, she had enjoyed it nonetheless and was almost reluctant to leave. Hudson gripped the edge of the sill and poked his head out the window, tilting it to get a good look at the wall-crawler lightly adhering to the stonework by her feet and finger-tips, her back to the wall. She turned her head and regarded him.

"What does it feel like, to be able to do something no one else can do?" he asked.

Spidey lifted a hand in wonder and placed it back down on the smooth stone, as if she had only discovered that indeed she was doing something out of the ordinary.

"You mean this?"

She thought for a moment - what answer should she give? Her own experience, or what Peter perhaps felt?

"Well, it is kinda freaky I suppose, but when it's second nature to you, then it's - I dunno - just natural. I guess I feel since I can do something no one else can, then I'd better make the most of the ability, eh?"

"But why the mask?"

"Why not?"

She suddenly pushed away from the wall with her legs and launched herself into the air, slinging a web as she went, aware that she was being watched by Hudson as she swung off down the street. That was getting a wee bit too close for comfort, that last question - difficult to answer it without getting close to the bone…

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