To Song With No Soul: Chapter 5 review: Why would Murdock accept payments in fish? Can't he tell that from money? (laughs) Anyway, pm-ing entails going to my profile (easily accessed from the latest chapter I hand out) and clicking the Private Message link, near the top, and leaving an email so I can reply. Chapter 6 review: You'd think you'd learn from Spider-Man 2 that tritium draws Otto like a magnet draws paperclips. I mean regular paperclips, not the one bouncing around and annoying me while writing fanfics on Microsoft Word. Not one of Gates' better ideas. Happy reading!

Chapter 7: Kiss and Control, by Peter Parker

"Above us, glowing, exploding,

Our dreams burst forth in light and death!

Hold me and tell me we'll burn like stars!

We'll burn as we fall!

Watch as city lights transform us..."

AFI, "Kiss and Control"

I'm starting to miss the relaxing, sublime days not too long ago when I divided my time between college, Aunt May, Mary Jane, work, the Daily Bugle, and costumed crime-fighting.

Ever since Black Cat entered my life, bad luck has followed me everywhere I go and back. I'm almost flunking Psychology and Biology, Jameson has rejected all my pictures, I've been informed by my boss at Starbucks that I'm "walking a thin line," and my Aunt May is dating my mad nuclear physicist archenemy Doc Ock at exactly the same time she inherits a uranium mine. I've been spending most of my time blogging and crime-fighting to avoid dealing with the above problems.

I'm starting to think my new girlfriend has the power to cause bad luck. Only thing is, I'm getting the heaviest share of misfortune, I'm sure.

Don't worry, all I have to do is what they taught me in high school Algebra. I'll just break my big problem down into smaller problems.

I'll warn Aunt May that something like Rosslyn Island isn't the sort of thing that should be entrusted to someone like her boyfriend. She listens to me.

I'll placate Jameson by sending him more pictures. Spider-Man is his bread and butter. He'll come around eventually. Without me, all he'll have to write is stories about cheerleaders being kidnapped by space aliens, and then where would his paper be?

As for having the time to do my homework, I'll quit blogging.

I'm just kidding! About the blogging, I mean. I am going to talk to Aunt May and Jameson.

"Is now a good time, Betty?" I ask the receptionist of the Daily Bugle headquarters.

Betty shakes her head. "Pete, you should know that with Jonah, there's never a good time."

I laugh and make my way to Jameson's office.

"If you don't have pictures of Spider-Man robbing a bank, I don't want to talk to you, " the boss growls.

"I have the next best thing," I offer. "I shot these pictures of Spider-Man and that burglar, Black Cat, making out."

He's definitely interested. "Nice. Very nice."

"One more thing," I say. I take a deep breath. Here goes nothing. "May I have an advance?"

"What do I look like? Santa Claus?" he roars. "I run a paper here, not a charity! Whatever happened to the American work ethic? You get me a picture of Black Cat in her lingerie and I'll think about thinking about it!"

I exit the office in a hurry. At least I have the picture money. Felicia won't like the idea of me taking pictures of our relationship, but I have to pay the bills.

I pull off my civilian clothes to reveal my costume. Wearing my costume under everything isn't such a good idea in the summertime. Unusually warm for New York, whether it's just an aberration or global warming. I'm starting to smell worse than rank—after a hard battle, I'm usually just plain offensive.

"Black Cat," I greet as I see her.

"Spider-Man," she responds.

Our arms intertwine, and I no longer care about her Criminal Reputation or my (undeserved) own. "Are you still robbing jewelry stores?"

"Nah. I broke into a museum last night. Stole a gold cat statue. The card said it was a sacred temple image of the Egyptian goddess Bastet. Must not have been that precious to the goddess if she didn't come down to defend it."

I laugh. "Do you want to show me?"

"Fat chance, Spideroso," she says. "You'll make me put it back."

"Really, haven't you ever thought of going straight? Using your powers for good instead of evil? Someone very wise once told me that with great power comes great responsibility."

"Yeah, you big spider-powered Boy Scout, but what's in it for me?"

"You know damn well what's in it for you."

"Well, for you I'll do almost anything. Almost."

"Your father doesn't have to be your destiny."

Suddenly she turns around. So do I, not letting go of her. Let them stare, I think, until I see who stands there, frozen in her tracks.

"Spidey?" Mary Jane asks, green eyes wide.

"Who's that? Does she know you?" Felicia demands.

"Not anymore," I answer. Does Mary Jane still love me?

"So what are you worried about?" she snaps.

"Nothing." Until I hear Mary Jane screams in pain half a block later.

"What's wrong?" I run to the scene.

"I got my high heel caught in the grate," Mary Jane explains, "and oww, I think my leg's broke."

She thinks right. Her right leg sticks out at an odd angle. "I'll get you help, miss," I offer. I call 911, setting her leg straight and binding it in a web cocoon.

Meanwhile, Felicia just smirks and walks away. "Some bad luck you just had."

I shake my head and decide to head to Aunt May's to take care of the Oliver problem. I retrieve my civilian clothes, I button my shirt over my costume, tuck my mask inside my pocket.

The door to the apartment is ajar. Smelling the peanut butter cookies, I let myself in. I stop in my tracks and my spidey-sense is rattling around like a walnut in a cookie jar.

My archenemy is kneeling in front of my aunt and pulling out a diamond ring from his coat pocket. "May Parker," he says, "will you make today the happiest day of my life? Will you marry me?"

She takes his hand, helping him up. "Of course I will, Oliver! You knew I would!"

I run out of the apartment apparently undetected, make my way towards the rosebushes, and start puking.

Just another day in the life of Peter Parker, called Spider-Man.