Chapter 2: The Accountant and the Ninja.

Disclaimer: No, I don't own anything.

Midnight couldn't come fast enough, especially when you were cooped up in this tiny apartment alongside a guy you had thought was dead for a few years. But hey, all day breakfast burritos were quick, filling, and at least slightly healthier than hot dogs, no matter which version of New York City I was in.

"You ready to go?" Peter Parker asked from the living room of the apartment.

"Yeah," I said, grabbing one last baby carrot. No point neglecting the Venom symbiote by slacking off.

"I'm surprised you are that into carrots," Peter said as he walked over, holding up the half empty bag. "You didn't seem to be that kind of person."

Oops. Maybe I shouldn't have eaten most of the bag. Parker didn't seem like he could afford it.

"Right," Peter muttered over his shoulder. "I'd rather not risk another battle at Roxxon Plaza. I doubt we could get an evacuation underway if there's another fight, especially given that we're dealing with Nuform."

"Right," I said. "But if Miss Roadkill is there alone, I'm taking her out."

Peter raised an eyebrow at that. "I doubt it. Roxxon Plaza is crawling with guards. It's been that way since practically the very beginning."

"Don't they know that the Nuform is going to give them cancer?"

"Doubt it," Peter replied. "They're still paid to put bullets in you though, so I wouldn't risk it."

Poor bastards. Still, I don't like bullets. No nutrients and a lot of pain. Not worth eating one if I can avoid it.

"Meet me on the roof," Peter said. "And please, don't let anyone see you. I don't need the papers snooping around my apartment."

Right. Be discreet. Not hard in New York.

Still, I left through the window and was greeted with a blast of New York's finest smog. Delicious. Once outside, it was only a hop, skip, and a jump to get to the roof. Just in time to find Peter in his undies. Nope, didn't need to see that. And I've left all my brain bleach at home. Damn.

So I turned around and hummed a cheerful tune to myself and did my best to think of my hamster. Not Peter in his boxers.

"Ready to go?" Peter's voice distracted me from my favourite furry rodent in all of the multiverse.

"Yeah," I said, turning over to look at the masked face of Peter Parker. "You leading or should I?"

He shrugged. "Follow me then, but remember to please not start a fight with the Roxxon guards."

"Hey," I pointed out. "Those Tinkerer punks picked a fight with me, not the other way around."

Peter sighed. "Just try not to reduce Harlem to a crater, please?"

"I won't," I said. "Seriously, I promise. Even if there's a single other person there, I'm not going after Octavius."

Peter nodded before he leapt from the building. I followed him after, enjoying the rush of the wind against my body as I swung to another tall building across the street.

The night was significantly colder than the day, and I could feel gentle snowflakes falling as I followed Peter. Maybe once this was over I could take a vacation somewhere warm, with sand, hula skirts, and sun.

Sadly, Roxxon Plaza at midnight in the middle of January had none of those things, unless you assumed the guards were wearing paper skirts under their uniforms, you mistook the moon for the sun, and you counted the debris and broken glass still scattered across the plaza as sand. Still lacking anything warm though.

"Gwen." Peter's voice was quiet and rushed. "There'll be additional guards here soon. Make yourself scarce, please."

"Right," I muttered, glancing around the neighbourhood before turning back to Peter. "Where are you going? Better for us to split up. Less chance we'll be spotted."

Peter raised an eyebrow before he pointed to the rooftop under our feet. "I'll be here. I'm not going any further."

"And what if they see you?" I shot back.

He shrugged. "I'll just say that I'm worried that there might be further Underground attacks, make it seem like I'm on their side. There are perks to being your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman."

He had a point, but I wasn't going to freeze my buns off on a roof across the street from the plaza. No thank you.

"I need to get closer," I said. "I need to figure out how much of the Nuform is still left in the sky, and where Doc Ock is taking it."

"We can find that out by following the transports once they load up the Nuform, can't we?"

I hated Peter for being right. But I certainly wasn't going to let that stop me. Now brain, it would be lovely if you could come up with an excuse.

"Still not going to figure out how much Nuform is left in the sky," I pointed out, playing it by ear. "Besides, the guards might be chatty if they think nobody is around."

Peter raised an eyebrow. "Something tells me you're not taking no for an answer."

"Ding ding," I replied as I stretched my arms, looking down at the half-destroyed plaza across the street. "Peter Parker with the ten thousand dollar prize."

"Remember," Peter added. "No-"

"No reducing Harlem into a crater," I replied. "Gotcha."

"No fighting," Peter corrected me. "We're here for information, not to start something with Roxxon. If you can't promise that I'll web you to this roof."

"Oh fine," I grumbled, waving him off before I took a long look at the plaza before us. "I'm going to go around and camp out by the tower, if you're so gracious with the permission slip, dad."

Peter sighed. "Fine. Remember, no fighting."

I didn't feel the need to respond to him when I leapt from the building, landing on the roof across the street before breaking into a run, the exercise warming my body back up as I aimed for a taller building next to the one I was on. Not much fun to be had in the next little while, not while I was going to poke around a destroyed tower.

Still, if the night meant I could grab Lady Under a Truck and ruin her plans, hey, that's a win. Shame I forgot to bring snacks. Maybe the tower still had a functional snack bar somewhere.

The building I landed on was newer than the one I had hopped off, and I found that I particularly enjoyed the view here because it let me see the full extent of the plaza in front of me, and in particular, the half dozen patrolling guards.

I made my move when a car pulled up to the closest set of guards. It was a pretty expensive car, and I figured it was maybe a lost family headed on the worst road trip ever, or maybe some rich idiot who had taken six wrong turns to end up in the aftermath of a war zone.

But it didn't matter, because all it meant was I got a free pass to hop into the middle of Roxxon Plaza. Whee.

But you see, I made a mistake, because I actually looked back at the fancy car, and the driver met my eyes.

Well, zero for two on guessing what was in the car, because not only did the driver look nothing like a tired soccer mom, he also looked mildly creepy. He reminded me of a gangster from back home, except unlike the Jefferson Davis of Earth-65, he was ghostly white, and he honestly looked like an accountant.

But his eyes, oh boy. Nope. Not dealing with those eyes. Nuh uh.

But even when I turned and bolted, I could still feel his eyes on me. Great sneaking, Gwen! Now I would maybe have three minutes before the guards started hunting me and trying to introduce me into the business end of an assault rifle. Fun!

And yet still, maybe because I was quick, I reached an open gap in the tower without incident. Hmm, maybe I could still stick around, if video game logic still worked with these Roxxon people.

Then I noticed the expensive car slowing down before a plain building close to the front of the plaza, and I suddenly wanted to leave. Just my luck. The accountant giving me the evil eye worked for Roxxon? Why was my luck stat so bad? Did I pick up a curse on the way over to this cold, miserable world?

Sure enough, the door opened, and the man stepped out. Even from so far away, I cringed. That was a really nice coat he had. So nice and warm and fluffy. And probably even more expensive than his car.

Part of me wanted an even closer look. If this guy was working for Roxxon, then maybe I could get an answer out of him. Yeah, get close to the rich guy who already knows I'm here. Great plan me!

But alas, I didn't have to move, because I saw a pair of cars and a truck pull up behind the expensive car. The cars themselves weren't very special, but oh boy, but Olivia "Flattened-by-a-truck" Octavius stepping out of the back of one of them was enough to get my heart racing.

She looked different. Her hair looked better, though anything is better than roadkill, and almost anything is better than slipping and falling on your own murder robot while being in the middle of a firefight, but I digress.

What also looked different was the fact that the men with guns were no longer on my side, but on hers. Still, there was a suspicious lack of giant murder-scorpion robots, because the truck at the end of the convoy certainly didn't look like it could fit her modern art piece.

But from the three men hopping out of the back of the truck, it certainly held something.

Part of me wanted to hop down a floor or two and get a closer look, while another part of me wanted to leave before the men with guns turned me into Swiss-cheese Gwen. In the end, I compromised, and I lay on the cold, slippery floor for a few more minutes, watching the little convoy and the party around it.

It was a bad idea, a really bad idea, because when the lazy group finally started moving, I couldn't feel my legs below my knees.

The worse part? The entire group was coming toward the tower I happened to be hiding out in. Yeah, I need to visit an exorcist one of these days. Once I got my legs working again.

It took a few minutes of fruitless kicking and stretching, but I finally got the blood flowing again, and I stood up again, just in time to see the last of the group enter the building I was in. Hurrah.

Still, it wasn't all bad. The fact that they were in the building just meant that I didn't have to go out of my way to listen in on them. It just made it that much easier to get caught and turned into Swiss-cheese Gwen, and probably chewed out by Peter afterwards too. A fate even worse than being forced to eat lead.

So what do I do? Hop out of the gaping hole at the side of the building of course. What? You thought I was going to take the elevator?

I remained there for a few seconds as the wind battered me around. It was then that I decided that information be damned. I was going to find the accountant and take his coat. Then I was going to punch Olivia Octavius in the face and drag her back to Earth 616. No way I was going to turn into popsicle Gwen hanging from an absurdly high floor of a destroyed tower.

And yet, that's exactly what I did, because I heard footsteps on the floor above me. Welp, so much for finding something warm. If I leapt from the tower, I would have been a flying duck, and if I was going to climb down, I was going to have to choose between becoming Swiss-cheese Gwen or popsicle Gwen, neither an appetizing option.

So I waited, still hanging there in the cold January night, straining to hear anything over the howling wind.

The first thing I heard, perhaps obviously, was the chattering of my own teeth, but I clenched my teeth the best I could and forced myself to listen.

I was rewarded, but it was like emptying a cereal box and finding a toy you got from your last cereal box, because the only thing I heard was the whir of propellers. Not as loud as the helicopter I was in, but louder than the wind.

And then the whirring got louder, then really loud, then pretty quiet again. It was then that I decided to risk a look up, and silhouetted against the moon was this ugly little drone carrying a big container, like a crossover from a hunchbacked student and a bee. Ah, so that was what they were going to collect the Nuform. Clever. Saves Roxxon hazard pay I guess.

And all of a sudden, the wind died again, and I could hear the loud, whining voice of Doc Ock.

"And why are you so interested in my business?"

Ohh, juicy workplace gossip. Always fun.

"What could you want with several hundred pounds of growth steroids?" The accountant's voice was low, certainly lower than Doc Ock's voice, and laced with clear amusement. "Roxxon is going to be buried in lawsuits and legal fees in a few weeks, and you're spending our cleanup fund on growth steroids?"

"Go talk to Kreiger." Doc Ock's voice was dismissive and I groaned internally. So much for getting more information out of them. "Because he'll tell you the same thing I'm telling you now. I'm the expert on Nuform, and I don't have to explain anything to you."

"I see," the accountant said, his voice fading into something quieter that I couldn't pick up.

"Who?" Doc Ock snapped. "Who is that? One of Roxxon's lawyers? I don't know anybody named Mason."

A lightbulb went off in my head. This accountant guy knew Rick Mason?

"That's a very interesting statement to make, Miss Octavius," the accountant's voice was louder now, even triumphant. "Because Rick Mason was the lead developer of Nuform, and yet you claim to be the expert on Nuform, without so much as knowing the name of the lead developer of Nuform."

I was mildly impressed. I also wanted to see the look on Doc Ock's face, because I wasn't sure if her jaw was on the ground or if she was seething in rage.

"Now tell me, Miss Octavius," the accountant continued. "What scientific knowledge do you have that makes you qualified for cleaning up one of the largest hazards in American history? Because I know that your name does not appear within Roxxon's own employee databases, and I know for a fact that you never worked at any relevant government agency."

Now I really wanted to see Doc Ock's face, but I suspected I would also need to keep hidden, lest the accountant went skydiving without a parachute, courtesy of a few octopus tentacles.

There was a moment of silence and I pulled myself up, just for a little peek.

The two of them were still there, in the centre of the destroyed room, and as expected, Doc Ock looked stunned, her jaw practically glued to the shattered floor.

The guards at the other end of the room were equally silent, although I wasn't sure who actually commanded the men.

"Furthermore," the accountant continued, breaking the silence. "Tell me of your professional background, because from my research, the only Doctor Octavius in the entire country is a man a decade your senior, and he's currently serving multiple life sentences for terrorism and attempted murder."

Well, that was a nice little tidbit to know. Glad to see that Doc Ocks tended to get into trouble here too. Maybe one day I could get Miss Roadkill to be cellmates with her alter ego.

"We're done here," Doc Ock spluttered at last before she turned around, toward the elevator at the other end of the destroyed room. "You don't know what you're talking about. I do."

I lowered myself back down just as the wind rushed against me again, making my teeth chatter annoyingly loudly. Maybe once Doc Ock was gone I could go get myself a nice warm coat. Or maybe a nice hot cup of coffee.

I was about to start climbing back down when I heard something. Not the sound of my teeth or another gust of wind, but a human voice, so I looked back up again. Strange, I doubt I've ever met an accountant who doubled as a ninja.

"You must be Spider Man," the ninja accountant said after a long, awkward moment.

I sneezed. Yes, coffee sounded like a great idea. Now if I could only get away from the ninja accountant without eating lead.

"I would assume that you had some concerns about Roxxon's activities here," the ninja accountant continued. "Perhaps you would be willing to… exchange information?"

The offer sounded tempting, if only so that I could get out of the wind.

"I guess so," I muttered. Then I sneezed. "It's not easy hanging out here, you know."

The ninja accountant didn't say anything, but he took a step back into the destroyed building, and I hopped up after him.

"If you're worried about property damage, I assure you that Roxxon Plaza is insured," the ninja accountant said as I dusted snow off my hood. "Your assistance in fending off the… Underground force has not gone unnoticed by those of us at Roxxon, and we thank you for it."

I nodded at that. I wasn't going to correct him. I wasn't going to confuse him with my broken dimension-hopping locket. Better to just play dumb.

"Are you aware of what happened to the leader of the Underground forces?" the ninja accountant asked.

Ohh. Hard question. Do I tell the truth or not? Probably can't run back to Peter and Miles and ask them how to lie to a Roxxon ninja who also doubled as an accountant.

"I mean, I think she was blown to bits," I admitted. "Yeah, I don't think she'll be a problem anymore."

The ninja accountant raised an eyebrow. Shit.

"She?"

Oh no. I said too much. Again. Why did I say that?

"I mean, I'm pretty sure it was a she," I said, backpedalling. "I don't know, I never asked the Tinkerer for pronouns."

Technically true. It's not like I ever met the very dead Phin Mason.

He nodded, seemingly satisfied. "I would understand why you did not. Still, I was not aware of this particular fact. Were you aware of this individual's name, considering you were able to determine her gender?"

So I backpedalled out of one hole and into an even deeper one. Lovely. Why did I ever think this would be a good idea?

"I, umm." I started. "I'd rather not disclose that information."

"Would you be willing to disclose that to the police?" The ninja-accountant wasn't letting up. "I understand that revealing information about a terrorist's next of kin may put innocents in harm's way, but I would hope that a family out there could find closure with this information."

He was making a good argument too. A really good argument, one that I was keenly aware of.

"Could I ask you something?" I managed finally. "It's about Doctor-"

"Miss Octavius," the ninja-accountant corrected me. "The title of doctor is granted only to actual doctors and those with Doctorates. To my knowledge, Miss Octavius has neither."

I laughed, then did my best attempt at faking a cough. The scene of a random civilian to just insult a supervillain was not something one comes across on a daily basis.

"Sorry, Miss Octavius" I said, savouring the words on my lips. "Do you know where she came from?"

"No, I don't." he replied. "Miss Octavius is a virtual ghost. And that fact troubles me."

"Why?" I asked, pushing my luck. Maybe the ninja accountant was feeling chatty.

"She lacks the relevant qualifications and experience," he replied. "As you must have overheard, she was not even aware of the name of Nuform's lead designer."

"What happened to him anyhow?" I asked.

The accountant said nothing for a long minute, then he shook his head. "I am told he died under suspicious circumstances, though I was not informed how."

That was certainly interesting.

"I do have a question for you as well."

Well, that's concerning. Wonder what kind of pit I would stumble into this time.

"I was searching through Roxxon's security footage and I noticed you were carried into our maximum security wing along with the Tinkerer. Tell me, what went down within that room?"

I blinked. What the hell was I supposed to say to that? Roxxon had a maximum security wing?

"She's not answering that," a new voice cut through my thoughts.

I looked over to the source of the voice. Was everyone in this world a ninja?

"I am." The shorter form of Miles Morales was standing next to Peter. "But who's asking?"

The ninja accountant turned to Miles and Peter then to me. "I see, I apologize if I mistook your identity for another."

I glared at Peter. Why the hell was he here? And so much for staying off Roxxon property.

"Who are you?" Miles growled. Well, he wasn't happy. Probably dragged out of bed.

The accountant paused before he turned away from us. "I'm a representative of Roxxon Energy's investors. This debacle with the Tinkerer and the Underground has shaken investor confidence, and I'm here to ensure such a debacle never happens again."

"Simon Krieger murdered Rick," Miles snapped. "That's what started it all."

Well, that escalated quickly.

"Tell me then," the Roxxon ninja turned back towards us. "If the proof is available, then I will assure you that Roxxon Energy will cooperate with the relevant authorities."

Miles fell silent. A bad sign for sure. A really bad sign.

"I'll take that as a no."

"The recording was destroyed," Miles said after a moment. "We tried to recover it, but the phone was fried."

"Unfortunate," the Roxxon ninja said, his face as blank as ever. "Where was it that this murder occurred?"

"Rick died at Roxxon," Miles gasped suddenly, as if the idea had just come to mind. "If the room had cameras-"

"I will take a look then," the ninja-accountant said, reaching into his coat. "If I find anything, then I will contact you."

I looked over to Peter and Miles before I went and took a business card. So the guy's name was Sinclair Abbot. Didn't sound like the name of an accountant, or a ninja for that matter. Photo looked like the guy in front of me though, and the card was made from really fancy paper.

"One last question," I said as the ninja accountant turned back towards the elevator. "Where is Doc- Miss Octavius taking the growth steroids you mentioned?"

I could almost feel Peter glaring daggers at me, but on the other hand I really was curious about what Doc Ock was doing with a bunch of growth steroids. What was an old scientist going to do? Inject them? Sell them on the black market? Create a monster in a tank?

"It is not company policy to disclose that to outsiders," the ninja accountant said with a shake of his head. "I trust you will see yourselves out discreetly?"

"We're not trying to look for a fight here," Peter said, though I could definitely feel his eyes on me. "We'll leave quietly."

"Good," came the reply as the elevator doors opened, closing a moment later on the Roxxon guy and leaving me alone with Miles and someone who probably wanted to murder me. Just my luck.

"We'll talk in the morning," Peter said, his voice hard. "And we're going to have a long conversation before you run into Roxxon again."

A long, boring lecture. Fun. Was I going back to college again? It certainly felt like it. Cold weather, a sense of dread, not enough sleep, and a long lecture by a stranger I didn't know all too well to look forward to.

Maybe this world wasn't all that different than the one I was locked out of.

AN: Chapter 2 is up!

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