Author's note:  If you're here for the legal info, check Chapter 1.  Well, I got another chapter up.  This is hard work; makes me appreciate all my fellow fan-fic writer's out there.  I don't come right out and say it in this chapter, but just think of the movie.  M.J. is in love with both Spider-Man and Peter Parker, and so far in my story doesn't know that they are one and the same.  Or is that one IN the same?  Oh well, you get my point.  Just read and review, I'll shut up now. 

"…police have not identified the man, but we are told he was a regular bank customer, who was well liked by the whole bank staff.  His assassin, Spider-Man, is being tracked down by the N.Y.P.D. after he escaped from the scene of the crime with over $500,000.00 in cash.  That's right, you're hearing correctly:  Spider-Man has become a criminal.  There is a warrant up for his arrest, with a generous cash reward.  Anyone with any information on him, please contact your local police department.  We are warning citizens who spot him to stay away, for he is armed and dangerous.  Stay tuned for more updates.  This is Don Sanders, for WPYX."

M.J. stood in front of the corner bookstore and listened to the radio report in disbelief. 'How could he?  It can't be him…It's not Spider-Man. He wouldn't.'  She glanced across the street at the newspaper stand.  On the cover of one of the newspapers was a picture of what looked to be Spider-Man, only holding a gun pointed at the camera.  Camera!  'Oh my god, Peter might be in trouble!'   "Sorry!" she shouted apologetically as she bumped into the person in front of her.  "Excuse me!"  She was only 2 blocks from Peter and Harry's apartment, so there was no use taking a cab.  She ran as fast as she could, praying that Peter be alright.  She pulled out the cell phone that he had given her for her birthday.  "Anytime you need me, you can just call me.  I will always be there for you.  And look, I programmed the number in so you don't even have to remember it!"  M.J. remembered herself smiling like a moron.  She had no need for speed dial; she had memorized Pete's number the first time he gave it to her.  She dialed the number.

"Hi, It's Peter and Harry.  No one's home right now – you know what to do.  BEEP."

M.J. hit the "end call" button on her phone and sprinted the last half a block to the apartment.  She ran up the stairs to the top floor and busted through the door of room 13-C.  "Peter!? Harry?  She saw a note on the counter.  She felt a little guilty, but once reading it the feeling was gone.  Once she found out where Harry was, she ran to Peter's room.  The door was open and the bed unmade, but he was no where to be found.  She walked across the room and looked out the open window, across the horizon of New York.  It was a little chilly out, and for a second M.J. wondered why Peter's window was open in the first place.  "Peter, where are you?"  M.J. had never been this worried about anyone before.  She just wanted to know where he was.  He said he'd always be there for her…where was he now?

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Spider-Man grunted as he realized he wasn't dead.  He wasn't dead yet, at least.  His spider-sense was sending tingles down his spine and the pain was unbearable.  He couldn't face anyone else right now, not on the verge of death.  All he wanted was M.J.  He needed her so badly right now.  In fact, he needed her so bad that he began hearing her voice. 

"Peter, where are you?"

'Wait…I really am hearing her!'  He slowly looked towards the sound of her voice, which was coming from above him.  She was standing in his bedroom window, looking out over the endless jungle of concrete called New York City.  She had a worried look on her face, and held her cell phone in her hand.  For as chilly as it was, she didn't have nearly enough clothes on, but she looked beautiful to Spider-Man. Even in his body's pain, the face behind the mask beamed.  It was as if an angel was looking over him.

"M.J." It wasn't a question or a call, but a statement.  She really was there.  He wasn't imagining this.  He could never envision anything so innocent and stunning, even in his dreams.  "I'm here.  M.J., I'm right here…" 

M.J. smiled to herself as she imagined Peter's reply in her mind.  "Yeah, Pete.  You're always with me.  But I need you for real right now."  She turned away from the window and started to leave the room.  As she reached the door, she heard a funny sound.  Like a rotten orange thrown against the wall.  She turned around to investigate, and ran into a sticky white film that was strung to the ceiling and threaded its way through the room and out the window.  A spider web.

She followed the web to the window and down the side of the building.  At its origin, she saw a heap of primary colors, stained by a deep crimson colored wetness.  In a flash she was soaring above the streets of New York, being held by a masculine body.  His embrace was warm; she wished it wouldn't end.  Her wish was not granted, as she found she had never left the room, and had not really felt Spider-Man's comfortable grip on her body.  Could it really be him down there, lying in the garbage  and trash-filled puddles of the alley?

"Spider-Man?"

M.J. saw movement, and realized she was right, even though she didn't want to be.  She had a connection with Spider-Man;  she was in trouble, he saved her.  It was funny really….and endless cycle of trouble followed by relief and flirtation. 

"M.J."  For a moment she was gone from the window, and Spidey saw her round the corner into the alleyway.   He saw the look of doubt in her eyes, and saw that she, too, had heard the reports on the news.

"It wasn't me."

"I know," whispered M.J. as she knelt down beside him and touched his wound.  He winced at the touch, and his body began to shake.  "What happened?"

"Hi M.J… Missed you."  His words were muddy and jumbled, and breathing seemed to be a difficult task for him.

M.J. smiled a sad smile at his feeble attempts to seem fine.  "Hey, Spidey.  What happened?"

The anger, which had left his body with the arrival of pain, returned.  "He…shot me."  Spidey again tried sitting up, and struggled. 

"Lay still!  Who did?"  She put a supportive hand behind his head, firmly pressing him against the ground.  'He's too weak…'  M.J. had never seen him so fragile.  He had always been so sturdy, so robust.  It was hard for her to see him like this.

"…Jeb."  'That damn Jeb and his Lassie.'

"We need to get you some help."  She hadn't realized it before, but the pool of blood he sat in was slowly getting deeper.  "You…you're losing a lot of blood."

"…Just a…flesh wound."  He smiled at M.J., but she didn't notice with the mask in the way.  She was relieved to hear the sarcasm in his voice; he was injured, but still himself.

"A deep flesh wound.  You stay here, and I'll go get a doctor, or someone who can help." 

He turned his head up to meet her gaze.  "M.J.  You…can't."  He began to cough, and his body went into violent spasms.  M.J. didn't know what to do, but she threw herself against him, trying to stop the movements.  She knew they had to be painful to him.  When the shudder subsided, Spidey opened his eyes to see M.J. lying on top of him, staring into his eyes.  

"Are you ok?"  Her worried look made Spidey laugh.  

"I think…I'll live."  'I hope I'll live…'

"It's my turn to save you."

"…Yeah…well, I wish you…the best of luck."  He couldn't hold on much longer.  Spidey felt he needed to let go, let the pain take precedence over his consciousness.  M.J. felt as he began to relax under her grip.  A single tear fell onto Spider-Man's forehead and slowly made it's way down the bridge of his nose.  She watched it for a moment before brushing it away.  Leaning over Spidey, she slowly lifted his mask up over his chin.  He allowed the action, being too weak to stop it.  As the bottom of the mask cleared his lips, she bent down and kissed him.  The taste of his lips brought back so many memories.  Memories of love, hope, grief, denial and more, all at once.  She'd only ever kissed one man the same way before.  A cold, hard realization struck, and terror gripped her thoughts. "I'll be right back," she said as she pulled away.  "Don't go anywhere." M.J. pulled the mask back down and placed a warm hand along his cheek.  "I…I love you." 

Spidey almost stopped breathing at M.J.'s  comment.  She was in love with Spider-Man, and Spider-Man's alter ego was in love with her.  'Now that's irony.'

"No.  You…can't."  He pushed her away, and lay his head back down.  M.J. felt dejected, but knew she had no time to argue.

"Well, I'm going to save you either way."  She started to stand up, brushing her read hair out of her face.  "But first…I need to know..."  M.J. again reached for Spidey's mask, peeling it away from his skin.

"M.J…stop."  She immediately stopped and blushed, realizing what she was doing.  "You can't know."

"I…I'm sorry."  

"Me too.  M.J., what if…--"

She held a finger to her lips.  "Shhh.  I'll be back in a little bit, Peter."   Spider-Man froze. His eyes did not blink, he did not breathe.  He thought his heart had stopped beating.  'She knows.  Oh, god, she knows!'

"You…you have…wrong guy.  I'm…Spider-Man…remember?"  His breathing was heavy and he could not stay awake for much longer.

"Yeah, I remember.  Don't go anywhere, Spider-Man."  She vowed not to say his name again.  She wanted to so badly, she almost needed too.  She felt relieved and overwhelmed – the man of her dreams was also within her circle of reality.  'Why did it take me this long to figure out?  He's always late for things…he's the only photographer at the Daily Bugle able to get good shots of Spider-Man…the way he isolates himself…how could I have been so dumb?!'

"Yeah…where am I…going to…go?"  'Maybe she doesn't know.  Maybe I just misunderstood her.  Lots of words sound like Peter.'  He leaned back and shut his eyes, wishing with all his might that the pain would stop.  His spandex suit was soaked with his blood, making him shiver from the coldness that seemed to creep through to his bones.  "Hurry, M.J.," he whispered to himself. It was the last thing he said before the blood resumed rushing to his head, killing his senses and turning everything dark.

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'Blanket, mattress, hamper, oh god how can I carry him home?'  M.J. frantically searched Peter's apartment for something to help her carry his body to safety.  "There's nothing here!"  It was impossible.  There was no way M.J., with her light-framed body and weak muscles, could carry Spider-Man anywhere.  She could drag him, but that would be painful.  She looked out the window to see how he was doing.  He was still breathing, slowly, and his head was on the ground.  He was totally limp, lying on his back.  'He's passed out again…now he can't even help me lift him up!'  M.J. put her hands to her head as a pounding headache started,  and began to cry again.  She noticed an open window above and to the left of Spidey's head.  She could drag him in there, but what if the occupants of the house were home?  Plus, she couldn't let anyone find out Spider-Man's identity.  'And I can't let him find out that I know.  It would kill him!'

         M.J. ran out of the apartment and was soon knocking on the door of the house with the open window.  "Please, nobody be home!"  All she could think of was how much she needed to get Spidey out of the streets.  If somebody else saw him, or if the shooter came back…well, she didn't want to think about that.

         Just as she decided no one was home, the door slowly creaked open.  A ball-and-chain lock was keeping the door from being open more than two inches, and it was just as well in New York City. 

         "Hi.  Who are you?"  A little girl, maybe eight or nine years old, had answered the door. 

         "My name is Mary Jane.  Is your Mommy home?"  'Please say no, please say no…'

         "No."  'Thank you, Lord!'

         "Do you mind if I come in?" M.J. asked the child.

         "Let me ask Daddy, be right back!" The door was shut in M.J.'s face and she could hear footsteps running through the house.  

         'Daddy?' thought M.J.  'Great.  Daddy's home.  Now what!?'

         "May I help you, young lady?"  A booming voice was coming from behind the door that had been again opened, this time by a large man in jeans and a polo shirt.  M.J. was sure that she recognized him from somewhere, but the thought quickly left her mind as an idea entered it.

         "Um, yeah.  My name is Mary Jane Watson, and I'm a reporter for my high school newspaper.  I just wanted to ask you a few questions about the Spider-Man incident that happened earlier today.  Would you mind if I came in?"  She put on her best smile and prayed this would work. 

         She looked innocent enough, and the man recognized her as one of his past acquaintances.  "Sure!  Come on in!  I would love to talk about Spider-Man."

         "Really?  Thanks, Mr.…what did you say your name was?"  M.J. entered through the doorway and the man gestured for her to sit in the living room. 

         He smiled.  "Oh, Mary Jane, you should be ashamed!  It's me, Dr. Marcel.  Your old pediatrician?"

         "Oh, I'm so sorry!  I didn't recognize you! It's been so long since" – M.J. stopped, and remembered Spidey, lying in the alley. "Dr. Marcel, what do you think of Spider-Man?"

         "He's innocent.  He would never have robbed the bank.  He is a savior to the people of New York, and, like every other United States citizen, deserves the right to a fair trial before being shot down by the newspapers and radio."

         "Spider-Man has been shot down, and he is innocent…"  M.J. wished that, for once, her plans would work out as she wanted them to. She started to tremble as she rethought her idea.

         "M.J.?"  Dr. Marcel squinted his eyes at M.J., who only had one response.

         "Can you do me a favor?  I need you to promise me, that if you find out who Spider-Man is, you won't tell anyone."

         "Dear, what are you talking about?"

         "Promise!" shouted as she stood up and walked to the living room doorway.

         "I promise.  Mary Jane, what's gotten into you?  Are you ok?"  He, too, stood up and turned to his daughter.  "Trisha, go get Mary Jane a glass of water, please?" She left the room.  M.J. ran to the back of the house and found the window under which Spidey was lying unconscious, with Dr.  Marcel at her heels. 

         "Dr. Marcel, you have to help him."  Her eyes welled up with tears, M.J. reached out the window in an effort to pull him through.  After failing miserably, she fell onto the floor beneath the window and put her head in her hand, and just let the tears flow.  Dr. Marcel looked out the window to see what she was talking about. 

         "Oh, dear lord…" the doctor looked horrified, as he reached for the phone on the end table.

         "NO! Dr. Marcel you can't!"  M.J. caught him as he dialed a nine, and then a one…

         "Mary Jane, I…I'm a pediatrician.  Spider-Man is a full grown man, I presume.  I wouldn't know how to help him!" He set the phone back down and went to comfort M.J.

         "You have to.  Try!  I'll help!  But we can't let him die.  I can't…" 

         "I can't promise you that he'll…" --

         M.J. cut him off.  "Just pull him in!  We need to get him out of the alley!"

         Dr. Marcel reached out of the window and succeeded in pulling Spidey inside.  As he lay him down on the linoleum floor of the kitchen, Trisha – who had been standing silently at the doorway since M.J. had ran to the window – asked, "Daddy?  Is Spider-Man going to die?"

         "Trisha, honey, Daddy needs you to go get all the towels you can find and bring them to me.  And hurry, ok?  That's a good girl!"  He turned to M.J. as Trisha left.  "We need to put pressure on the wound.  Put your hands like this," he placed M.J.'s hands over the bullet hole, and held them there, "and press as hard as you can, ok?"

         M.J. gnawed her bottom lip and nodded, unable to talk through her tears.  She could feel Spidey's heart beating beneath her hands, but the beats were growing weaker, and farther apart every minute.  When Dr. Marcel left the room to help his daughter, M.J. reached for Spidey's hand, and she felt him grab hold of her hand.  "Spidey," she whispered, "I'm going to let Dr. Marcel call 911.  Don't worry, I won't let anyone find out who you are.  I won't leave you.  I'll protect you."

         "Can't…"  Spidey's voice was barely audible above M.J.'s sobbing.  'How did she find out!?'  He shifted slightly in his position on the floor.

         "Can't what?"  M.J. pleaded for him to come back.  "Don't leave."  But his grip relaxed, and he lay on the white floor, creating a fresh puddle colored a deep red hue. 

         "…just…can't."

Author's note:  Ok, I'm beginning to realize that this story is kind of lame.  I'll never live up to all the other author's out there.  But, if some of you DO happen to like it, press this little button down there.  Yeah, give in to your temptations…press it.  You know you want to……If I get enough (at least five) good reviews, I will continue posting.  If not, I'll take the story off so all the other fine authors can have room for theirs.  I have four more chapters ready, it's just a matter of want and demand here…PRESS IT!  Thanks