A Business Proposition

Harry Osborn paced in the hall, awaiting their decision. He looked quite good in his Armani suit, and he knew it. Solid gold button hooks and Italian leather shoes, all topped off with the worry that made his brows arc and furrow. He hoped to make a good impression upon them today. He had to. The company depended on it. Would they close Oscorp? He wouldn't have it. Everything his father did to keep this place alive... It wouldn't go to waste and ruin. Click, click, click. He paced faster on the hardwood floor. His father loved that company. Loved it more than he loved his own son. No, that's not true. He loved you, so shut up about him. Can't even give him peace when he's dead? All he wanted was a brilliant scientist of a son, and you couldn't even be that. What would happen? Why weren't they out here telling him the good news? Or bad...

"Harry."

"Mr. Jameson. Did they decide yet? How did it come out?"

He was the vice president of the Board of Representatives of Oscorp. Usually a very kind man, but times like this often turned him into a raving lunatic. Thankfully, this was a good day in the life of Mr. Allen Jameson. And so was his news.

"Better than expected. We've kept the company. Harry, I don't know how to tell you this, but... We have a new president of Oscorp. That's how we could afford to keep this company moving. We had to put the one who took us out of debt in charge."

"W-What?" Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. "We're under new management? But I'm the last Osborn. I inherited Oscorp!"

"Do you want us to drown in the debts left from the last disaster?" Jameson said. "We need this money to survive. I don't like it either, Harry, but we have no choice."

Harry put his hand to his forehead, rubbing his temples. It might have been Jameson's day, but not his. "Fine, fine. When will I meet this new president?"

"Well... Actually, Harry- Mr. Osborn, we're not sure at the time. Next week at the latest."

Harry nodded and motioned for Jameson to leave. God... a new president? They replaced him in his own company?! Didn't you hear Jameson? They had no choice! He wondered what the new president was like. Was he going to put this company in different direction? As long as Oscorp prospered, he didn't really care. Keep his father's dream alive, that was all that mattered now.

Harry spent hours filing through the papers on his father's old desk. Prototype blueprints, unpaid telephone bills, pre-construction sketches, everything Norman Osborn had ever used in his life. His life... Too short. Cut short by Spiderman; by Peter Parker. Damn you, Pete. I thought you were my friend. You think you know people...

"See ya, Bill," Harry called to a board member. "Yeah, have a good one." The typical reply. Harry felt his vision failing him as he let sleep take him. Grant turned down the boulevard, heading for home. "Almost there, Mr. Osborn." Yeah, yeah, yeah... Once around the block, Jeeves. I need sleep. He hadn't had a good night's sleep since the night his father was killed. It kept him awake, remembering his dead body, crumpled in a blanket on the bed. His father had hugged him earlier that day, for the first time in years. Did he know he was going to die? Of course not, stupid. How would he have known?

Walking through the front door was a challenge. He nearly lost his balance, only woken a minute or two ago. Should be guard rails for the incurable drunk, he thought in wry humor. My dad. Forgot to put 'Alcoholic' next to 'Cherished father' on his tombstone, didn't they? He only drank when the company wasn't doing well. When the company went downhill, he naturally became addicted. A good whiskey sour once in a while is fine, but Niquil tends to disagree with a bottle of Sambuca. Shut up! Your father provided for you. Made you spoiled. Do you think you could've gotten into a top college without his hefty donation to the school? Please.

He was exhausted now, but still alert. His mind was awake while his body begged him to lay down. Harry walked into the bathroom and turned on the hot water. Then cold... just enough so he wouldn't be boiled alive. Perfect...

Once he had shed his clothes, Harry practically melted into the water. Such a relief... He had been pent up in his office all day. Didn't even need shoulder pads in his suit today. Too much tension in his shoulders already...he would've looked like the evil man in the peacoat that always ties the damsel to the train tracks.

But that was so different now. All his muscles relaxed... He was just barely aware that his eyes were slowly closing... He could just about see past his eyelashes, like a screen.

The doorbell rang, forcing him back into the world of the living. "Damn..." He had been so close to sleep... So close...

"Charlie, please get the door." He hadn't ever heard his father say please to a servant. Too proud. Why should he give someone common courtesy? That's the sleep talking. You know you heard him say it before. That's true. Once. Just once... When he asked him to please, kindly go to fucking hell. Drunk again, dad? Pot calling the kettle black again, eh? You've been drunk before, too. Do you remember what you said to the girlfriend you had? Karen. That had been different. She deserved that. She had been sleeping with another man. Norman Osborn didn't bring up a fool. Misdeeds deserve punishment. That's rich. Your father was murdered, and have you punished Spiderman yet? No! Pete was his friend. He couldn't kill his best friend, even if Parker did betray him.

Charlie knocked at the bathroom door. "I asked the nature of the visit. She said she was from Oscorp, sir."

"...She?"

"Yes, Mr. Osborn. Lovely young woman waiting just by the door."

Could it be Mary Jane? What would she be doing here? Saying she was from Oscorp... Maybe just to get into the house.

"Should I let her upstairs, sir?"

"Yeah. Yeah, let her up here."

Footsteps faded down the hallway. Harry flung himself out of the bathtub, wrapping a towel around his lower half. He was about to open the door wide when he saw a face he didn't recognize.

"Mr. Osbo–" Her eyes were opened wide, gaping at the man in the towel answering the door. He slammed the door in her face without thinking, flinging himself against the wall.

"Shit!" he whispered. Good one, idiot. That wasn't Mary Jane. His eyes were wide. Did you just slam the door in the face of a coworker? SHIT! "Ah erm uh... Sorry. I just... wasn't dressed. Um... I'll be out in a second."

"That's fine," he heard the mysterious coworker answer.

He threw on a pair of pants and the only cheap t-shirt he owned, and even that had cost him forty bucks. Oh well. He thought he might as well look semi-professional, throwing a blazer on over the t-shirt. Harry opened the door cautiously. Hey, your dream of getting laid might still have a chance. He shut his random thoughts out and smiled.

"Mr. Osborn?" the woman asked.

"Mmmm –I mean. Yes," he laughed and stopped trying to stare down her shirt. It had been a very long time since he'd seen a decent pair. He hadn't had a date since his relationship with MJ. "I'm Harry Osborn."

"Well Mr. Osborn. I'm Audrey Sterling, new face of Oscorp."

"Enchanted," he said, kissing her hand. "We must have dinner sometime." He'd heard his father say that once. Works every time, his father told him. The ladies love a charmer.

"For business, yes." Apparently not every time, Dad.

'If that's what you assume I meant,' he thought, keeping the confident smile plastered on his face. They shook hands, and so it began. She followed him into his upstairs lounge.

"Have a seat, please."

"Thank you," she said, sitting down and crossing her legs.

'Damn, she crossed them,' he groaned internally. 'Not even a peek?' Keep thinking like that and you'll find yourself out of the company altogether.

"Mr. Osborne–"

"—Harry."

"Harry. I want you to be my business partner for this corporation. After all, it was your father's."

"I accept."

"That was easier than I planned," she smiled, adjusting her traditional black 'Peggy-Sue' glasses. Damn, she was beautiful. One of the few that looked hot in dork glasses and suits. What he would've given to slam her up against the wall and–

"Harry?" Miss Sterling asked, peering over the rims of her glasses. "Are you listening?"

"Yeah," he muttered, "Yeah, I'm...Yeah."

She laughed quietly. What was she laughing at? She couldn't read minds. Gee I wonder. You just said "Yeah" three times, dumbass.

"I feel more comfortable calling you Mr. Osborn," Miss Sterling said, filling out a form attached to a clipboard. "Given the circumstances."

"Given what circumstances?" Harry asked.

"Mr. Osborne, you've been staring at me since I walked through the door."

"In that short skirt, I say you're beggin' for attention." Stupid, stupid, stupid! With your luck, she's probably a black-belt that can whip your ass.

Audrey removed her glasses."Contrary to popular thought, Mr. Osborne, I came here for a business proposition." He apologized several times and she continued. "Thank you for your consideration. I'd like to develop Oscorp in a way unheard of. I want to take the performance enhancers to another level. I want to perfect them. I want to use all the inventions that have failed in the past and create something that is worthy of a grant from any major science foundation in the world." My god she's the daughter my father never had.

"Then we share the same goals, Miss Sterling." Hopefully in more ways than one... He tried to make his move then. "Would you... go to–"

"–Yes. Dinner would be an excellent idea. We have to discuss these new plans for Oscorp." She opened her planner to next week.

"Actually I was hoping for tomorrow night." Then, he realized that he was being forward and became embarrassed. "Well if you don't have any time... It's just there's this restaurant downtown having its grand opening tomorrow night and–"

"–I think I can fit you in tomorrow." Audrey flipped back a page. "Yes... What time?"

"...Nine?"

"Fine with me." They both stood up, marking the end of her visit. Audrey shook his hand for the second time that night. "It was nice to meet you, Harry."

"Likewise." Score! And Norman Osborn's plan of tact works again.