A/N: Nearly there… I've been having a wee spot of trouble with the ending, but I think I've got it now… only a couple more chapters to go! Weee!

Cheers,

Apteryx

Chapter 34: Hot Dog

This time she was gently shaken awake. Mary-Jane stood over her, with a cup of tea in her hands, which she passed over to Erica as soon as she had cautiously sat up. "Mmm. Wassatime?" she mumbled, rubbing her eyes with one hand and yawning.

"Past eight. Peter wants to go into the Bugle and develop yesterday's photos. He wants your help. I'd go, but I've got an appointment about a job here."

"Um, OK, let me get dressed…"

MJ laughed. "No real hurry," she said, "Oh, all right, maybe just a little, but you can finish your drink first."

So, while Erica awkwardly threw on some clothes, she also had breakfast and listened to MJ talk about the job she hoped to get, "…what appeals is the art direction as well. They know how experienced I am modelling, and I think one guy remembers a shoot were I had to organise the wardrobe because of an emergency with the…"

Her flow was interrupted by knocking on the other side of the bedroom door.

"Is it safe to come out now?"

MJ giggled. "Most people don't believe me when I tell them how shy Peter is," she confided to Erica, before opening the door.

"All clear."

"Good. Let's get going." Peter strode through the lounge to the front door, stopping only to pick up a jacket, and his camera bag. Erica hurriedly stood up to follow, scattering toast crumbs over the lino, and grabbing her back pack from the floor.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" MJ asked sweetly.

Peter paused at the doorway. "Uh… no," he said, looking about.

"Sure?" The redhead came right up to him, smiling.

"Yeah, pretty sure."

MJ suddenly grabbed Peter by the collar and pulled his head down for a lingering kiss. Erica looked away, half embarrassed, and heard Pete say, "How could I forget that?" and MJ reply, "Ciao Tiger, have a good time," before turning back again to rush out the door after Peter. The last thing she heard before the door closed was Mary-Jane's laughter ringing out behind her.

A few minutes later, and Erica was out on the street with Peter, heading down towards the Bugle.

"Have a good night?" he asked her.

"Nothing complicated. Low-key and business-like; with crook ribs, I tried to take it easy."

"Fair enough," Peter squinted up at a tall building. "I'm going to pay a call to the FF at lunchtime; take the ray-gun with me, but…"

"It's all right, go ahead. I've got a couple of other things I want to do."

"You don't mind?"

"Oh, I'd like to meet them, but I understand – trying to explain my unannounced presence, especially if I'm, uh, 'dressed up', would be a pain. Maybe later, eh."

Peter smiled. "You're so reasonable."

"That's my middle name: Erica Reasonable Stirling."

They chatted amiably as they took the lift up to the main office. Erica wondered how the staff would react to Peter's arm in a sling, but apart from a few jocular comments, most seemed unfazed. Robbie Robertson was more interested in the previous day's fight. He laughed as he pushed Peter in the direction of the darkroom, saying, "Go! Jonah will be having conniptions about now!"

Once in the darkroom with the red light safely on, Peter went about developing the negatives.

"You don't need me to help you at all, do you? What did you want me in here for?" said Erica, watching him wind the film into a developing tank.

"It's all appearances. If you weren't here, they'd start to wonder why I've got a sling. And I can't just hand these over to someone else to develop – they'll have some rather too interesting pics on them."

Erica sighed, and sat down on one of the stools dotted about. "I guess so."

"And while we've got a little down time, there's something I want to do." He put a timer on, left the tank on the bench, and climbed up on a stool, reaching out to one of the high shelves for a plastic container, a dull pink colour in the lab's light. Erica was curious as to what he was up to.

Suddenly, her spider-sense flared.

Erica leapt off her stool and dived towards Peter, wrapping her arms around his legs in a high rugby tackle and throwing themselves both across into the far wall, crashing into the drying cupboard as the container dropped heavily onto the stool, liquid spraying out from its open top.

Picking herself up from the floor, Erica glanced at Peter to see if he was OK - he had quickly jumped back to grab the container and set it upright, and was mopping up the spill with a sponge - then surveyed the damage to the cupboard door, hoping that no one had heard the crash or would come and investigate it if they had. The door was ripped off its hinges, and hung at a distorted angle from its catch. Slowly, Erica turned her head as she became aware of Peter's eyes on her, glinting oddly in the light, an expression on his face of puzzled speculation.

"What?" she said, as he continued to regard her in that manner.

"You knew," he said, "You knew that was going to happen."

"Well of course I did, you dill. I've still got a little thing called spider-sense."

"But you knew that was going to happen to me."

Startled, Erica stared at Peter.

"You're right – I did." How did she do that? Thinking back, she recalled a couple of other times when she had done the same thing, only she had thought nothing of it.

"It seems to be instinctual – well, it is part of the spider-sense after all, but… I wonder if – if it's a link through the point of origin of your powers?" Peter mused, "Y'know, even after all these years, I haven't taken the time to really explore and work out exactly what drives my spider-sense. Developing the tracers has been about it. Though..." He lapsed into silence.

Erica stood there still, half staggered, and as the silence lengthened, increasingly irritated.

The buzzer of the timer cut in on them. Peter moved over to the bench, avoiding the wet patch on the floor and emptied the chemicals out of the developing tank.

"You did that on purpose!"

Peter turned and grinned at Erica. "I said I wanted to try something out. I'm happy now."

Erica couldn't help but grin back. Peter was still such a science nerd; he was like a puppy with a new toy now he had a new puzzle to mull over.

In the end, she did help Peter with the developing – not because his arm was giving him trouble, but because there were a few parts where having an extra set of arms sped the process up. The image of Dr Octopus flashed through her mind, causing her to shiver as she thought about his pernicious insanity, and how close to death she and Peter had come.

"Cold?" asked Peter.

"No, just thinking…"

He nodded, and went back to the job in hand.

"All right," he said at last, sorting through the prints. He had duplicated those for public view - one set for Jonah and the other spare - and a separate, private set that he gave to Erica to put in her bag, "Let's face the fire – uh, I mean smoke, and take these to Jonah."

J. Jonah Jameson was, as usual, in his office pouring over the day's stories and growling softly to himself, when Peter and Erica walked in. He scowled at them momentarily, then his face lit up, eyebrows almost blending in with his hairline – he had seen the packet that Peter held in his hand.

"Gimme here!" he demanded, holding out his hand expectantly.

"What's the magic word?" teased Peter, keeping them out of his reach.

"Please." The word was ground out reluctantly, but once Jonah had the photos, and was flicking through them, he started chortling.

"Hee hee, these are great! Spider-Man getting his lumps at the hands, and hands, and hands, of Dr Octopus! The capture of Dr Octopus – no other paper or TV station has any record. These are going to blow the socks offa them!" He rubbed his hands together, looked up and saw them both still there.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Tell Robertson I said to give you the going rate for these – I've got important work to do."

"Yeah, like count his money…" commented Erica as soon as they were out of his office.

"He'll have a bit less than he expects soon – Robbie's pretty generous with the payouts."

As they made their way to Robbie's desk, they noticed a different tall, dark figure coming towards them. It was Sergeant Hudson. Erica felt her face start to redden at the sight of him; a mixture of guilt, anxiety, pleasure, and embarrassment. She hoped that he would not take her flushed cheeks as a sign of gaucherie, but apart from giving her a quick glance, he paid no attention to her.

"You took some photographs I believe," he was saying to Pete.

"Would you like a set?" Pete replied disingenuously, and handed over the duplicates he had made.

Hudson flipped through them, studying them closely and showing no emotion as he did so. Eventually, he looked up at Peter, Erica, and Robbie, who had now joined them, and gave them all a grim scowl. Erica wondered what it was he had seen that caused that reaction, and was worried that Peter hadn't thoroughly vetted the pics before handing them over.

She needn't have worried. The next moment the sergeant broke into a startling smile, and started laughing, to the bewilderment of them all.

"The look on your faces!" he exclaimed, still chuckling in amusement. Robbie was smiling now, but Peter looked distinctly unamused. Erica felt a small smile struggling to get loose; Hudson's investigations must be going well for him to be in this playful mood.

"Excuse me, I've got to have a word with Mr Robertson," said Peter, rather stiffly, and moved off, grabbing Robbie by the arm and pulling him away from Hudson to a more distant spot.

"Well, how about that?" said the spurned police officer, watching them leave. Then at last giving all his attention directly to Erica, asked her, "Third time lucky yet?"

"Yes, I've seen him. I even spoke with him."

"For real?"

"Yeah. I was with Peter at the time. Spider-Man came down to talk to us – this was before yesterday arvo - I think he was worried about Dr Octopus; he asked Pete to set up a camera, for evidence, I think. Anyway, I got to say gidday. He was not quite what I expected." Erica felt the heat rise in her cheeks again. Hudson must have taken her reaction for embarrassment, perhaps for thinking she had had a crush on Spider-Man. He passed the comment by.

"Where were you yesterday?"

"Me? I was busy getting lost in Macy's."

Chuckling, Hudson leant against the desk. "Relax," he smiled, "I'm not interrogating you – I'm only curious is all. What does Peter Parker's cousin do when she's let loose?"

Erica pulled a wry face. "Actually, now that MJ – that's his wife – is in New York too, I've a lot more time to myself."

"Well, if you've got all that time floating around, perhaps you'd like to use up some of it by having lunch with me."

"What, now?" asked Erica, a little flustered. She hadn't expected that.

"I do get lunch breaks, y'know."

"I, uh… yeah, OK."

"Still not used to cops carrying?" he said jokingly, amused at her hesitation.

She followed Hudson out of the open office area, glancing back at Peter and noticing he was watching her, one eyebrow raised in question. She shrugged in return and waved to him as she left.

Out in the sunshine, among the milling pedestrians, Erica felt self-conscious walking with a police officer by her side, but nobody else seemed to notice – blasé New Yorkers wrapped up in their own little worlds. Yellow cabs were inching along the street, horns blaring, not that it achieved anything with the traffic in its normal lunchtime snarl.

"So, where're we going to eat?" asked Erica, feeling almost shy to boot. She'd have to tell him she was going home soon; she wouldn't want him to get the wrong idea or anything…

"There's a street vendor along the way that does a good line in hot dogs. You had a real New York hot dog while you've been here?"

Erica shook her head.

"Thought not. My treat." Hudson gave her a pleased smile.

They reached the vendor's cart, talking about food; what Erica had found strange, or how, surprisingly, how much of it was not strange at all, despite never having seen or tasted it in real life, due to the pervasive imagery that appeared in books, films and television.

"See, I'd have no idea of New Zealand food, none at all." Hudson paused to purchase their lunch, then passed Erica's over to her.

"Well, for instance, a hot dog in New Zealand is a sausage deep-fried in batter, with a stick stuck up it," Erica commented.

"Really? There you are then. Let's go up a bit – there's a small plaza where we can sit and eat."

"Good-o."

They were within sight of the plaza, when Erica felt the slight tingle at the back of her skull. She was being followed. She smiled, automatically knowing who it was following them, and looked back down the street behind her, and up. A red-and-blue figure was coming closer. She was unaware that she had actually stopped, until Hudson touched her arm.

"What is it?" he said, then followed her gaze upwards. The sergeant chuckled, "Now why is he following you, I wonder?"

"Spider-Man follow me? Nah – he must be on his way someplace… but isn't the way he does that amazing?" she said, shading her eyes as she watched Spider-Man swing closer on his webs.

"Oh yes, I was forgetting you don't have super-heroes in New Zealand."

"Even less than you might suppose," Erica murmured, then waved at Spider-Man now he was practically overhead. He turned his iridescent eyes down towards them, gave an extra fillip to his swing that was the web equivalent of a wing-waggle, and continued his path uptown.

Hudson sighed, and guided Erica to the small open space and found them a seat on one of the built-in benches. A fair few others had the idea of sitting there in the sun as well – the place was relatively crowded.

Erica took a few bites from her hot dog, daintily licking the mustard from the corner of her mouth as she ate, so as not to appear more of a slob han she already wes. She had a quick sidelong look at Hudson sitting easily next to her, and discovered he had already devoured his hot dog – probably in only two bites, she thought with amusement.

Hudson leaned back with a sigh, his eyes closed and his long legs stretched out in front of him. Erica observed how the sun picked out the russet highlights of his dark skin over the strong bone structure. She stared openly, admiring his looks, since he was unable to see her do so.

He chuckled suddenly, making her jump and almost drop her hot dog. He opened his eyes and looked at her.

"Y'know," he said, "For a while there, I thought you were Spider-Man…"

Erica flushed; her face must be bright red. "Me?" she squeaked.

"Yup. Ridiculous I know, but you were never there with your cousin when Spider-Man was about."

Forcing a laugh that she hoped didn't sound fake, Erica replied, "I think your job's getting to you, Sergeant Hudson… eh?" And then the funny aspect of it all hit her, and she laughed again, with real hilarity. What a fluke, Peter swinging by just then, what a fluke…

"Please… call me Bill," he gasped, as he joined in the laughter.

Erica's outburst stopped immediately. She had to say something to Hud- Bill, in case he got the wrong impression.

"Um, I'm going home soon," she said tentatively, "Back to New Zealand, that is…"

"Oh, are you? That's a real shame… I would've liked to have shown you around more – now that your cousin's too busy, of course."

"Of course." Erica smiled at the face saving. "I've come to enjoy my time here, unexpectedly. A family duty that turned out to be not such a chore after all."

"That's great. I'm glad things worked out then?"

"More than I thought." Erica grinned at her private double entendres, her cheeks no longer flushed, and her eyes shining in her tanned face.

They conversed for a while in the sun, talking about family, then jobs.

"…very sad," Bill was saying, his manner solemn, "The whole tunnel had been collapsed, brought down by Octavius trying to destroy the evidence; the lab and the body. It will be a long time before he gets released this time."

Erica was silent, thinking about Dr Whithead. A man who had made it his life's work to help others, but who had been duped into helping a criminal madman who had no interests at heart other than his own.

Eventually, Hudson glanced at his watch and sat upright with a huge sigh.

"Time I was back on the beat." He studied Erica for a moment. "Thanks for your company. Good luck for the journey home, bon voyage and all that. We probably won't meet again."

He held out his hand to shake.

"No, we probably won't," said Erica, miserable as a shag on a rock. She took his hand, and they shook. Then, impulsively, and vaguely knowing it was a bad idea, she hugged him, quickly pulling away.

He grinned, then moved off, out of the plaza and up the street. Erica watched him go, until his tall form was swallowed up by the crowds. She sighed in turn; it was time she paid a visit to a certain lawyer…

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