A/N: Getting closer…. hehehe :)

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Chapter 30: Press Conference

The chair squeaked across the lino as it was pushed back against the wall. Erica took her empty plate into the kitchenette and dumped it in the sink; she was too keyed up to sit still for long. She had thought that she'd be picking at her food too, but once she sat down with a full plate in front of her, she had eaten it all without any qualms at all, in fact, concentrating on eating helped her to avoid thinking about later. She hadn't had much to say to Peter or Mary-Jane; the two had exchanged glances over her head, worry in their eyes, but had left her to herself.

"I've got a few things to clear up; I'll mix up some more web-fluid too. Give me your empties. Uh, I'll try not to be too long."

"Eh? Oh, sure.." She fumbled at her sleeves and under her shirt at her belt for a moment, then handed over a few empty cartridges; she had got to know by feel which ones still contained web fluid. Peter grunted his thanks and left the room, closing his bedroom door behind him. Erica was already back to staring out the window, mug in hand, containing the dregs of her tea that she was pretending to drink. Picking it off the bench subconsciously gave her hands something to keep them occupied as she thought.

"Well, aren't we just the cheeriest bunch this afternoon?" MJ got up as well, found the remote and turned the TV on, then plumped down onto the couch to watch.

Erica stood in the kitchen, leaning on the bench. She could feel a churning in her stomach, like having butterflies, only higher powered. Glancing over to where MJ sat watching TV, seeming bored and acting unconcerned, she felt the tremor in her stomach wobble, then settle high up under her rib cage. It would serve as a reminder, as if she needed it, of what was at stake this afternoon. Even with the special foam she wasn't sure she'd be able to get the better of Ock - it wasn't as if he stayed static, unchanging, while Spider-Man leapt and bounded ahead with what he had learnt from their encounters. No, he would be more cunning in his fighting, vicious, and with no scruples to hold him back, as had Peter, or herself. But it wasn't only subduing Ock that had her worried; what of the virus? If she wasn't able to discover exactly how he was releasing it and stop that from happening, then would she be as responsible for the resulting mayhem as Dr Octopus himself? No! She would not let Ock win, not if she could help it.

A sharp crack, followed by a crash of china brought Erica out of her introspection. Startled, she looked down at the floor; broken bits from the mug she had been holding were scattered at her feet; she had tightened her grip on the cup without thinking, and had smashed it. She looked up guiltily, hoping Mary-Jane hadn't noticed, but she was too absorbed in the screen in front of her. Crouching down, she quickly swept up the pieces with her hand and deposited them in the rubbish, noting the irony as she did so; the mug had been the one emblazoned with 'Don't Worry, Be Happy'. As she stood up again, Erica hoped that it wasn't an omen…

Something must have registered with MJ, because she was looking in Erica's direction.

"It's worse than a dentist's waiting room isn't it?" Mary-Jane gave a little chuckle and turned the sound on the TV off as Erica came over and sat down next to her. "So, nervous?"

"Nah, but I think terror is shoving the nervousness away. She'll be right - I keep telling myself that anyway."

Erica smiled and relaxed into the soft cushions and the old blanket she had draped over them. MJ shifted her weight so that she faced her squarely.

"You don't have to do this you know, fight Dr Octopus. You could disable his device and skip out, leave the rest to the police. You don't have to endanger yourself, you really don't."

Erica lowered her eyes - was this some kind of test?

"I do. I've got this far, I can't back out now I've committed. Besides, I don't think Ock would let me get away with it - he'd chase Spider-Man for sure. He'd be a wee bit pissed off." She closed her eyes, rubbed them, "Ah, I just want it over and done with - what's the time?"

MJ snapped the TV off, exasperated. "I don't know why you should feel that way, I don't understand it at all."

"Maybe Pete and I are more similar than you think, even given our different backgrounds. It happens," she shrugged.

A snort was the only answer from the redhead as she stood up.

"In that case…" she mumbled, as she fished around through her large handbag for something. It was her cell phone. "…I'd better postpone my manicure appointment before we go."

"What?"

MJ laughed, "Only kidding," and dropped the phone back into her bag after glancing at it. "It's after one. What time is this thing again?"

"We'd better get going soon then…" Erica did not sound enthusiastic. Briefly and stupidly she wondered if it was any better knowing you had a fight like this coming, or to have one spring on you unawares.

Mary-Jane went over and knocked on the bedroom door.

"Peter, you finished in there?"

"Hang on a sec," he called out, "Nearly done." True to his word, it was only a short while later that he opened the door and emerged to face Mary-Jane and Erica.

It was all only a matter of slotting the refilled cartridges into her belt, then, at Peter's insistence, running a check on the webshooters, making sure they were operating as smoothly as they should, before they were ready to set out. At the same time, Peter checked his camera bag, familiarising MJ again with the operation of his SLR camera, in particular, how to change the film. She nodded impatiently - Erica stifled a smile; MJ had evidently had to do this sort of thing before in the past, not too surprisingly, even if she was usually in front of the lens, not behind it.

At last they left - MJ with the camera bag slung over her shoulder, Peter carrying only his keys, and Erica bringing up the rear. She paused on the threshold of the apartment, looking back in at the surroundings that were her home here, conscious of Peter waiting for her so he could lock the door, but wanting to believe that she would still be coming back , in one piece and alive, later. She gazed at the worn but tidy interior that had a lived-in look but didn't reveal too much in the way of personality in its furnishings or ornaments; somewhat like its owner, she thought. The owner touched her on the arm.

"C'mon," he said quietly, "It will still be here when you get back."

Thankful for his assumption that she was worried about his flat, not herself, Erica sighed and watched and waited with MJ beside the lift while Peter locked the door. He seemed very confident. Erica narrowed her eyes. Was it an act, or was it the result of so many years crime-fighting that he himself had trouble distinguishing between actual confidence and its counterpart bravado? Well, it didn't really matter; she was the one who was in the position to need both confidence and bravado today - she'd need them.

…………………………………………………………………..

The gleaming entrance of the Student services building rose up before them like the antithesis of the narrow, dark and dank tunnel of Dr Octopus that Erica had described. The tall structure, light streaming in, was airy and large, and the large expanse of floor was a hard-wearing gray marble tile. Glossy white and eau-de-nil painted surfaces seemed dull beside the stainless steel balcony and stair railings which shone so intensely with the sun that it hurt to look directly at them, and if you were unfortunate enough to do so by mistake, black spots obscured your vision for quite a number of seconds after.

Everything gave the impression of being new and modern and expensive, aimed at impressing perhaps not the students whom the building was designed to function for, but their parents and any other influential alumni and patrons who the University might possibly impress enough to give up their money.

This afternoon the central atrium, rising up three stories through the centre of the building, was closed off to students. Mary-Jane noted that even though they were early for the announcement the place was still buzzing with people. Others had had the same idea - there were few seat set up, and the competition for them could get fraught later.

They passed a couple of screens that normally acted as bulletin boards, but were now in use to display posters of Otto Octavius with a brief bio and a description of his contributions to science. A small table nearby had the same information as a broad sheet.

They paused by the boards to read.

"Look at this," Peter snorted in disgust, "If I didn't know better, I'd suspect Jameson wrote this - the truth has been distorted that much. '…although in the past maligned by the press and even serving time in prison for unwitting complicity in crimes, Dr Octavius has retained a positive outlook, and has worked tirelessly in his chosen fields for the benefit of all.' Bah, there's so much spin on this, it's a wonder it doesn't go into orbit."

MJ slid her arm around her husband's waist, giggling.

"I can imagine him in space with his tentacles, like a strange satellite."

Peter twisted slightly under her arm, to smile at her in happiness and surprise; she smiled back, wondering if his love was as transparent to others as it was to her. She glanced back at Erica beside them. She was standing a few feet away, perusing the poster with a blank look on her face, far away. She drew her brows together in brief concentration as she continued standing. Mary-Jane wasn't certain whether she was actually reading or thinking about something else entirely; already she seemed distant, as if she was no longer Erica Stirling the woman from New Zealand, but the crime fighter with a serious, unpleasant problem to solve, running through different strategies in her mind to achieve her goals. Erica looked at them, unseeing, her eyes reflecting like the stainless steel about them.

A tug at her arm brought MJ's attention back to Peter; he was wanting to walk around the space, to look for good vantage points for photography while he still had the chance. Leaving Erica to her contemplation, they moved towards the front of the area, where a small dais had been set up, with a couple of chairs and a lectern with a microphone attached. A giant-sized screen loomed behind the lectern, hanging from the third floor balcony; a movie screen, ready to display images, but of what?

Curious, MJ turned around, pivoting slowly while looking for the projector; she was half aware of several pairs of eyes on her - the place was filling up fast - but she was used to being looked at, and didn't give them a second thought.

Instead, aware that Peter had moved away from her in his search, she was about to follow him, when she spotted the projection device stuck up on a make-shift ledge just beneath the second floor balcony opposite. It was an old-fashioned slide projector, the sort with a carousel that perched on top. Mary-Jane was momentarily taken aback; she had expected that with the new building and all the modern high-tech stuff about, that any images would be projected using a computer or some such.

Giving a little mental shrug, she found Peter just as he found a spot to the side he was happy with. They would have to stand; this gave a better view of the podium and the speaker above those sitting. Numerous other media people had congregated behind the chairs, with a few even down in the front row, eager to get a close-up and the up-close experience of Dr Octopus - it wasn't every day you got to cover a story about a man with extra mechanical arms coming from his side after all.

MJ remembered Erica; where was she? She looked over to the boards where she had last seen her, but she was no longer there, and scanning the crowds, MJ couldn't spot her in amongst them either. Maybe she had already left to switch into her Spider-Man duds, though it was still possibly premature - there were sure to be speeches from official university types before Doc Ock made his appearance…

"Have you seen Erica?" Mary-Jane asked Peter softly, hoping he'd know.

He hadn't. He seemed concerned as he also peered through the crowd and around the interior looking for her.

"I guess she knows what she's doing," he said eventually. He gave a low chuckle devoid of humour, "She's probably planning to make a spectacular entrance, like I used to. Now, of course, all my spectacular entrances are unplanned."

Mary-Jane scrutinised his face; he sounded bitter and somehow unlike Peter. She wondered what was behind his statement. Jealousy? Regret? Worry? As she distractedly looked round the crowd again, she started to recognise a few people, public figures mostly, here for the reflected kudos of attending such an important announcement. MJ put a smile on her face and tossed her hair back, as she in turn was recognised. Peter had lifted his camera from its bag and was holding it awkwardly, one-handedly, taking a few shots of the scene before the start of the proceedings. He groaned, lowering his camera.

"Well, I suppose he had to be here - most of his club cronies are…"

MJ, looking in the same direction as Peter, saw the object of his discomfort: J. Jonah Jameson, looking eerily like a hyena, as he advanced towards them.

"I might have guessed," she said with a grin, "What's the bet he's hoping Spider-Man will show up?"

"Bets are off," Peter replied tersely as Jameson neared.

"Parker!" bellowed Jameson in a genial manner, "Just who I was looking for. I wanted one of my best photogs here today, glad to see a little scratch hasn't put you off. I've got this feeling this is going to be one Big news item, so I'm covering it myself. You take the photos, I'll write the article - if this comes off as I expect, I'll even give you a raise."

JJJ beamed and tucked his thumbs behind the lapels of his jacket, as he rocked heel-to-toe in pleasure and anticipation at the forthcoming spectacle.

"You're all heart," said Peter, knowing full well that a raise from Jonah would be the lowest he could possibly get away with.

"That's me; more generous than is good for me. And how's the lovely wife?" he said, turning to MJ.

Mary-Jane smiled. She felt almost fond of Old Jonah. He was so predictable.

"The lovely wife is fine."

"Good, good. I'll go get my reserved seat. No skipping out when the speeches start, Parker," he warned Peter before he left.

"I won't, Jameson," he promised. Sighing, he looked at his - Erica's - watch; it was almost two p.m., time for it to start.

Reaching down for the camera bag, MJ removed several rolls of unexposed film and put them in her jacket pocket; she knew that once the shoot started, she had to be ready.

There was a noise from the podium. A thin man in an out-dated suit had stepped up to the mike and was starting to speak in a strong carrying voice.

"Uh, Ladies and Gentlemen of the Press, invited guests and others. Welcome to Empire State University. I'm Michael Fantham, head of the Bio Sciences faculty…"

A hush descended on the crowd. Peter held his camera in readiness. MJ leaned over and whispered, "Ready when you are, Tiger."

He didn't reply or even look in her direction; MJ could see how tensed up he was, waiting, waiting. Another quick glance around while Fantham continued with his introductory remarks revealed a couple of uniformed policemen at the edge of the crowd, and another one behind the podium. No doubt others were around, hidden until needed. MJ hoped that Dr. Octopus wouldn't get the wind up him if he noticed them too, but perhaps with the Police Commissioner in the audience, he'd take their presence to be mere honor guard duty. She also briefly wondered why Dr. Whithead was not up on the rostrum as well, sharing in the discovery.

"…and so without further ado, I now introduce Dr. Otto Octavius."

Polite clapping broke out as Fantham sat down. From a door off to the side of the podium came a thick-set man of slightly below average height, with straight brown hair, greying at the temples, and thick-set glasses to go with his build. He was dressed in a suit with a natty double-breasted jacket, but this wasn't what got the attention of the audience; emerging from the sides of his jacket, were four mechanical 'arms', shiny, smooth and sinuous, they gave an air of sinister purpose to his appearance.

However, as Dr. Octavius climbed up to stand behind the lectern, he was smiling in a manner that was not at all sinister. Open and jovial, his smile only showed his acknowledgement at his welcome. The whirr and pop of many cameras sounded as he nodded to his audience, and waited for the clapping to die down.

Mary-Jane was put into uncertainty - he didn't look mad. And when he started his speech, he spoke in a confident manner that betrayed not a hint of insanity. Had he, in fact, reformed and were the notes and evidence Erica retrieved an attempt to frame him by Dr. Whithead? Confused, MJ glanced at Peter beside her. He had just finished taking a pic of him, and noticed MJ's eye on him. He leant over.

"He's plausible. I've a feeling this is not going to go well for Erica…" Peter shifted uneasily on his feet.

"…I know you're not here to hear all the dry scientific facts, so I won't bore you with a step-by-step breakdown of my findings. I have isolated the pertinent details and now I present them to you on this screen."

Dr. Octavius waved one of his 'arms' at the screen behind him. With his real arm, he lifted a small remote, and pressed a button. Nothing happened. He frowned and pressed again with the same result. Half-turning to Fantham sitting next to him, he had a few quiet words with him. Fantham's face paled, and he hurriedly left the rostrum and disappeared through the same door Octavius had entered earlier. Octavius tried his remote again, with no luck. He smiled at those assembled in front of him, but this smile was no longer pleasant.

"We seem to be having a small problem with the equipment," he said in annoyance, his tentacles stirring with suppressed emotion.

"Don't you just hate that?" a voice called out.

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