A/N: A lot of you have been asking about Peter's parents, and how the way they died is like in Batman, and I have to admit that I did steal the idea from the bat. I haven't read the Spiderman comics, so I didn't know how they really died until htbthomas told me. Sorry if I confused anyone.

Leaving the Colombia campus, Peter pulled his hood back up and turned his feet toward the Daily Bugle. Walking into that place was like entering the lion's den, with Jonah Jameson just waiting to bite his head off, but photography was Peter's main source of income, and he wasn't about to give that up unless he was formally fired.

The newsstands lining the sidewalk screamed yesterday's news. Pictures of him lying on the sidewalk after the fire, pictures of him being pushed into the police car after he regained consciousness, pictures of him entering the burning building, his senior high school yearbook photo…

Oh god. Where did they get that horrific thing?

This whole situation was already embarrassing and uncomfortable. Why did they have to make it worse by plastering him in all his nerdiness over the cover of Time Magazine?

Pulling the hood a little further over his head, he shouldered his way through the crowd of people hovering around the newsstands.

Jameson has at least one thing to thank me for. Business is booming.

Two teenage girls brushed by him, both looking at a slightly less embarrassing photograph of him when he had tried to leave the jail. They were giggling uncontrollably, only adding to Peter's mortification.

"He's kinda cute, for a geek!"

"Yeah, what a baby face! And those eyes!"

The second girl pretended to swoon. Peter, eternally grateful to his hoodie, blushed like the setting sun.

Suddenly, his spider sense tingled. He whipped round, searching for the disturbance. And then he saw it. The two girls, utterly engrossed by the magazine they had bought, were walking out into the street… straight into the path of an oncoming truck.

No time, no time! I don't have time to get my suit on! What am I going to do?

The truck blared its horn, and Peter could hear the brakes squealing. The girls had turned; one had opened her mouth, about to scream.

Oh yeah. I don't need my suit anymore.

An earsplitting shriek filled the air, and Peter was spurred into action. Thrusting his hands out, he shot webs at the girls and pulled them off the street in the nick of time. But, as with all new methods of rescue, there were still a few details to hammer out. Peter had pulled the girls a little too hard, and they were now flying straight at him. Entirely unprepared for this sudden barrage of female bodies, the young man was knocked off his feet and landed hard on the pavement, both girls ending up on top of him.

His hood had been knocked off somewhere along the way, and now everyone who had been so eager to read about him was now looking down at him with a mixture of awe and amusement. Peter's blush returned in full force.

The girls stirred on his chest, and then turned to look at their rescuer. Their jaws dropped.

This is extremely awkward.

"Um… ladies? If – if it's not too much to ask, would you mind standing up? My ribs are kind of broken, and this isn't helping them much."

Murmuring apologies, they rolled off him. He stood up carefully, grimacing as his back protested loudly.

"Thanks," he said, helping the shocked girls to their feet. He looked around uncertainly at the crowd of awestruck citizens. Smiling uncomfortably, he bent down and picked up his books from where he'd dropped them.

"Uh… hi everyone," he said, feeling the need to break the silence. "H - how're you today?"

Wincing as he realized just how idiotic he must sound, he decided to escape while he still could. He said goodbye hurriedly, and was about to cross the street (looking both ways, of course), when someone spoke.

"Way to go, Peter."

He looked back in surprise. Of course he knew that people would know his name, but to hear it like this… it was rather unreal.

Most of the onlookers were smiling at him now. A few voiced their agreement with the statement. And then one of the girls, a pretty redhead who reminded him painfully of MJ, came over and hugged him.

"Thank you so much. For everything," she whispered in his ear before pulling away.

Peter had never been so shocked, so happy, in all his life. He had been afraid the people of New York would hate him, shun him, avoid him on the streets. But now, after this… Maybe things wouldn't be so bad after all.

He smiled genuinely at them and nodded his gratitude, then turned and continued on his way to the Daily Bugle.

It was business as usual, if a little more busy, in the hectic newsroom. It was the first time Peter had actually felt grateful for the never-ending chaos. It gave him a chance to slip through unnoticed.

Betty wasn't at her desk, so Peter squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, and walked into Mr. Jameson's office.

"Parker! Peter! Spiderman! Whatever your name is! Get over here!"

Peter gulped. He could tell right now, this was not going to be pretty.

Jonah Jameson was seated behind his enormous desk, phone in one hand, cigar in the other. His authoritative aura and the way everyone else in the room seemed to shrink from him made him look not unlike some tyrannical dictator. The man who could stop trains, hold up walls, beat up armed criminals, and conquer insane supervillains had to try very hard not to cower under Jameson's accusing stare.

"I don't care how you do it, just make sure it's done!" he barked into the phone as he motioned to Peter to sit down.

"No, I will not settle for green! How many times do I have to tell you, Spiderman's suit is red and blue, not green and black!"

Peter raised his eyebrows. What the heck was Jameson talking about?

"Ooh, poor baby. Your printers are out of red and blue? Well, go down to Staples and get some new ink cartridges! And make it snappy, I've got a hot new story coming up!"

He slammed the phone down and fixed Peter with a predatory glare.

"So that's how you get such good photos of Spiderman! I knew something funny was going on!"

Peter opened his mouth to speak, but Jameson cut him off.

"And that's also why you kept saying that he was a hero! Didn't want me to print the truth, did you?"

This time, Peter opened his mouth in preparation to start shouting, but once again Jameson cut him off.

"What I don't understand is why the police didn't lock you up! Oh well, better not look a gift horse in the mouth. You, sir, are going to give me an exclusive interview."

"W – what?" Peter spluttered.

"An interview! What are you, deaf?" he shouted.

"I'm not giving you an interview!"

"You are if you want to keep your job!"

Jameson had him there. Peter slumped in his chair, and Jonah knew he had won.

"Anna!" he barked. A pretty young brunette poked her head in.

"Yes, boss?"

"Get in here, you're interviewing Spiderman!"

The woman walked over and examined Peter with a kind eye.

"Anna, this is Spiderman. Spiderman, this is Anna."

Peter stood up and smiled weakly, offering his hand to shake. She took it and smiled back.

"Now that you've been acquainted, get to work!" He turned to leave, then turned back around.

"Anna!" She jumped and looked at him.

"Don't mess this up." His tone was almost menacing. He stared at her for several moments, and then left the room, yelling at Betty to get the mayor on the phone.

Thanks to all my reviewers: ilovethestorys, Mr. Man, RevolutionChick, deppfreak, conan98002, htbthomas, IcyWaters, Delia Ra'Nar, Owl, Spacegirl07, hedi, jjonahjameson, and Elisa. If I left anyone off, I'm really really really sorry!

REVIEWS WOULD BE LOVERLY!