You must forgive me for not getting this up sooner. I had computer trouble. Expect the next chapter sometime next month - because of school. (Sorry!) I'll try to get it sooner, but...

Thanks so much for the reviews - on the very day I posted this story! It made my computing day.


Chapter Two - Sunday Paper

- 12:18 pm - Peter Parker's point of view -

Except the wings. I expected to see big white wings, but not on the back of a girl, a kid no less. I just sat, stuck there with just the top of my head poking above the wall, and took in what I was seeing. This thing, hunched over, didn't notice me. Her blonde hair is short, and she is holding her head, elbows on knees. If there was ever such a thing as elf-ears, she has them. Dressed in blue, her outfit is tight, but not in a skanky way. And she's crying. Not all-out sobs, but sniffling and tearing.

People (human or not) with extra limbs - especially those on the back - aren't to be trusted, I had concluded a few days ago. But she seems harmless enough. Carefully I swing over the wall, where I'm now out of view thanks to a heap of old boards. I take my camera off a hide it under a plank, then get up and cautiously make my way closer.

I guess she heard me after all. All at once she jumps up and spun around to face me, at the same time backing closer to the three-foot wall. Not saying anything, she just stares at me with big ice-blue eyes. Now that she's standing, I can see how toned she is. Petite but muscular.

"Uh, hey, you alright?" I finally manage to say.

No verbal response, but her jaw tightens and she swallows. I waited for what seemed like a full minute.

"Sorry to startle you."

"It's alright," she said very quietly.

I was actually surprised to hear her voice. I almost thought she'd be some sort of alien, or a mute kid. But she didn't say anything more.

"My name's Peter Parker."

Once again, no verbal response, but she gave me a quick look up and down.

"So... what are you doing up here?"

"Taking a break. Converting oxygen into carbon dioxide... What are doing up here?" Now I could detect a hint of curiosity in her voice.

"Um..."

A smile crept onto her face, and all at once she looked relaxed. She took a few steps towards me, making a distance of about 6 feet between us. Obviously she knew I had no good answer.

"I'd tell you my name but I honestly can't remember it right now," she said with a wry smile.

"Really?"

"Uh-huh," she continued with a shrug. I guessed her to be 14 to 16 years old. "All I remember is bits and peices of stuff, so I've been trying to find something to make me remember whatever happened. Unfortunately I've just been flying around for about, oh," - she cast a glance towards the sun - "say an hour, and am feeling hungry, tired, and discouraged," she said in a cheerful manner.

What am I supposed to say to that? After a pause she keeps talking.

"So tell me, why are you really up here? I won't be offended or anything."

"Well..." I begin, slightly hesitant. Aw, what the heck. "I'm actually a photographer, for a newspaper, and my boss thought you were a, some kinda bird. He sent me to get a picture. At first I thought you were a bird too."

She laughs a that. "Not surprising," the bird-girl says. "Honestly, I'd probably let you take my picture if I could just remember things."

I raise my eyebrows in surprise. "Really?"

"Really-really. But I can't even remember my own name at this point. Maybe later."

I sure hope she means that. But what should I do? I feel bad for her... "Hey, you said you were hungry, want a sandwich or something?"

She bit her lip. "I don't want to be a bother."

"Hey you're going to let me take your picture once this mess is straightened out, right?" - she nods - "Considering there's pretty much no other way for you to get a meal safely, I think it's a good trade."

"Alright."

"Can you follow me-"

"Save your breath. Long as you don't take any subways I'll be able to track you just fine."

"Okay, when I get to my apartment building circle around it - I'll come out on my balcony and you can come in that way."

"Deal."

I retreive my camera and take the rusty escape ladder down. She pumps those huge white wings and is soon a white smudge in the sky, circling around and following after me. I only make one stop, at a newspaper stand, and use my Daily Bugle Freelance ID card to get myself a free paper. This is Mr Jameson's idea of a raise. I get the Sunday edition for October 17, 2004, and it is blessed with full-color photos.

- 12:30 pm - ???'s point of view -

Well that was interesting, I think to myself as I follow my new friend Peter. At least I hope he's a friend.

This following business is tedious. I keep having to slow down, circle, and try to get slower air currents so I can keep an eye on him.

- 12:30 pm - Mary Jane Wattson's point of view -

"Yyyyyesss!!" I shout as I come out of the studio, onto the busy streets of New York City. Passerbys remain indifferent as always, and my little victory dance goes unoticed.

'The Importance of Being Earnest' is coming to a close, and I've gotten a new role in 'Lady Windermere's Fan' as Lady Margaret Windermere, which will pay a bit more, and is going to be a fun play. I've got to go tell Peter!

- 12:45 pm - ???'s point of view -

Finally he goes into a building, and I circle around, and around... until he comes out onto a small rusty fire escape-ladder platform. I make a quick dive in hopes that no one sees me, and dart inside his little apartment.

- 12:45 pm - Peter Parker's point of view -

I get to my home, followed by a speck in the sky. I run upstairs, and pay my landlord, who is playing poker and watching The Wheel Of Fortune way too loud. I also say hello to Ursula the Skinny, who is atempting to make some sort of turkey dinner. Then I go into my place, set the paper and my camera on top of the mini-fridge, throw my dirty clothes in a drawer, straighten the bed sheets, and step outside. I wait a moment before seeing a sort of missile drop from the sky. I jump out of the way and my tag-along comes in.

"Do you like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?" I ask hopefully, since there really isn't anything else to eat.

"I... don't know..." she says. "I think I might."

I start making them and Birdie, as I've nicknamed her in my head, wanders about the apartment a bit, not phased it's dinginess. Eventually she starts looking at the pictures jammed into the edge of my mirror's frame.

"She's pretty," she remarks, pointing to a strip of MJ pictures. "Is she your sister, or friend?"

"Girlfriend," I say happily, spreading grape jelly over the bread. "Her name is Mary Jane."

"And is this your family?" Birdie asks, pointing to an older portrait taken at the Wal-Mart studios.

"Yes, that's me, Aunt May, and... the late Uncle Ben."

"You don't wear glasses anymore."

"Nope, not for a couple years now."

"That's cool."

I finish her sandwich, slap it onto a plastic plate, and she starts eating it while I make my own.

"This is really good, thanks."

"Thank Jif and a two-for-one sale, but your welcome."

I look of realization comes over her face.

"Good Moms Choose Jif!" she says excitedly. "Right?!"

"Yeah, that's what they say, but try to keep it down, okay?" I didn't want someone to notice.

"Sorry," Birdie apologizes quiety. "But I remembered something!"

"You think you have some sorta past dealing with peanut butter? Maybe you... smuggled it, and after the job was done they wiped your memory." I say jokingly, and then begin to eat my sandwich.

"Very funny," she says dryly. Then her elf-ears prick up, somewhat like a dog's, and she looks towards the door. "Someone's coming."

I listen carefully and can hear a particularly creaky step being pressed down. "If they come here go out and hide on the roof, okay?" I tell Birdie, and she nods. We both hold our breath as the footsteps aproach my door and... someone knocks. Birdie puts her plate down with it's corner of sandwich on the bed and zips outside.

"Who is it?"

"Peter! It's me!" I recognize MJ's voice immediatley, and my heart skips a beat.

I open the door, sandwich in hand. "MJ!" She looks great, dark blue capris, a tight red tank top, and strappy red sandals.

"Peter!" she says again excitedly, then hugs me tightly. "I got the part!"

"Th-that's great! . . . What part?"

- 1:00 pm - ???'s point of view -

I sit on top of the roof, listening to the conversation below me easily.

"Silly, I'm playing Lady Windermere in 'Lady Windermere's Fan'. I told you that." 'MJ' says. I'm guessing this could be Mary Jane, his girlfriend.

"Oh, right, that's great! When does it open?"

"In the begining of November."

"Come out and celebrate with me."

"Well..." Peter says hesitantly.

Don't just leave me here!

- 1:01 am - Peter Parker's point of view -

How will I get out of going with her... maybe I should just tell her... but what if Birdie doesn't like it?

"Something wrong?"

"No..."

"Then what is it?"

"I can't go right now..." I say, latching the door.

"You're eating sandwiches, for crying out loud, and-" I cut off her exasperated remarks.

"Look, MJ," I say, a little more curtly than intended. "I found a kid when I was out taking pictures, well, not really a kid kid, but I'm looking after her right now..."

"Aww... that's sweet of you. Is she invisible?" she says teasingly.

"No, she's outside on the roof."

"Peter! That's not safe! How old is this kid?!" She starts to head towads the fire escape balcony, but I take hold of her arm.

"No! She's safe. Calm down. Just wait a moment, stay here."

I head out on the steel grate and look up to see just the edge of roof.

"Hey..." I call up, not sure what to call 'Birdie'. Her head pokes into view with a "Yes?" look in her big eyes. "You know my girlfriend - in the pictures - she's here now... would you mind meeting her?"

She thinks about this for a moment, and poor MJ looks very confused. "Is she... trustable?"

"Most definately. In fact, let me ask her," I turn to Mary. "Can you keep a secret?"

"Yes. Just get her down from there," MJ says, worried and impatient.

"She said yes, are you going to meet her?"

"Alright." With that she jumps down, doing a sort of flip in the air so she lands on her feet, facing inside. MJ is in shock. "Hello!" Birdie says cheerfully, folding her wings tightly and stepping inside.

- 1:03 pm - Mary Jane's point of view -

Not really a kid kid. In fact, not really a human kid. Still, she is pretty. Platinum blonde hair in a pixie cut, porcelain complexion, around 5-foot-3 and curvy enough that she'd make a great model. But she's got wings! And pointy ears! And her eyes, icy blue yet bright and incredibly clear, have got to be the biggest I've ever seen.

Where on Earth did Peter find her? And how did he bring her home?!

- 1:03 pm - Peter Parker's point of view -

MJ looks from Birdie to me, then back at Birdie. "Who are you?" Mary Jane finally asks her. Birdie just shrugs.

"Don't know my name but it's nice to meet you," Birdie says with a smile, and she extends a hand.

"She's got amnesia," I explain as they shake hands.

"Oh... I see... That's too bad."

There was a rather akward explaination of things, and then everyone was more relaxed. I made a sandwich for MJ, and the girls chit-chatted.

"So you can really fly?"

"Yep. I'm glad I remember how..."

I hand MJ her sandwich.

"Thanks Peter. Hey I heard there was a plane crashed out in the ocean or something."

"Yeah, it's all over the front page." - I get the newspaper - "Take a look."

My guests look at the front page, titled 'No Survivors in Private Jet Crash'.

Birdie's eyes widen in horror. "Oh my God."