Lady Octopus

By Blackheart Syaoran

AUTHOR: Thanks for reviewing and sorry for the wait!

TO The Trickster: Let’s assume Jameson was asking so he could get headlines, like we assume he did with the Julia-Roberts-in-a-Thong picture.

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Chapter 3: Ought To Be In Pictures

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The pier house was darker than usual, though Mary Jane was unable to tell if that was because of the latest moon phase or because of her own recent misadventure at the bank. She had barely done anything in the past two days, ever since returning from the fight with Spider-Man, feeling far too miserable to get much revenge done.

Idiot, she berated herself. You used to look up to Spider-Man, even enjoyed making out with him, and what did you have to go and do? You had to pick a fight with the guy! And what was your reason for screwing up this time? Something about him not understanding Harry Osborn? Pathetic girl with pathetic reasons.

She could admit privately that what she’d said was rather weak; it was no wonder Spider-Man refused to believe her.

That’s not true, the voices inside her head soothed. He wanted to believe you, but had trouble accepting the facts. He’ll come around in time, Mother.

And in the meantime? Mary Jane asked, afraid to think of what would happen to her while she waited to see Peter again.

Sleep, the voices urged her. Sleep.

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The planetarium was the last place Peter Parker wanted to be, especially after his disastrous encounter with Mary Jane. And yet, here he was, raising his camera and snapping pictures of people—

Click.

—smiling—

Click.

—laughing—

Click.

—having fun—

Click.

And with each picture he took, each couple he saw, Peter felt a little bit of himself die.

“Parker, Jesus, get over here, will you?” Jameson was barking again. “Shoot my wife and the Mayor, and make sure you don’t miss!”

Though he dearly wanted to get the man off his back, Peter didn’t say anything about Jameson’s poor choice of words, took a deep breath, and snapped off a photo.

“God, Parker, pay attention for once, will you?” the Editor-In-Chief growled.

As the older man stormed off in search of other victims, Peter heaved a sigh of relief and drifted over to the small bar. He shut the cover of his camera to make sure the lens wouldn’t get scratched, and then signaled the barkeep for a drink.

“Never would have thought you the kind, Pete.”

Turning in surprise, Peter found Harry Osborn on the stool next to him. The young corporate head seemed to be nursing a thin glass of wine, one that was almost empty.

“Harry? What are you doing here?”

Harry shrugged. “Company said after the accident at Octavius’s lab, I need to do some good PR work. They seemed to be under the impression that I’d enjoy this event.”

“You don’t appear very angry,” Peter pointed out.

Harry gave a short laugh. “I’m not angry, but I am bored out of my skull. What’s a guy like me supposed to be doing here anyway? Watching grass grow?”

Unable to stop himself from using his ultimate superpower (pointing out the obvious), Peter told Harry, “There isn’t any real grass here.”

Harry gave a genuine chuckle at that, and after recovering replied, “You know, you should write a book on useless facts.” He laughed at his own words, and then softened up. “I’m sorry, Pete, it’s just…it’s this whole mess I’ve gotten myself into. Octavius was supposed to help the company get back into the swing of things, and then that damned accident turned MJ into an abomination. It’s a little much, you know?”

For a moment, Peter was unable to respond. “MJ isn’t an abomination, Harry.”

Harry gave him a strange look. “Pete, no offense, but when you’ve got four big metal tentacles growing out of your back, people aren’t going to start handing out compliments. You should know this by now, hanging out with that damned bug of yours.”

Though he felt the urge to retort, Peter suppressed it, knowing getting angry with his only other real friend would only worsen matters. Instead, he asked, “What’s going to happen now that Dr. Octavius’s experiment is scrapped?”

Harry sighed in exasperation. “I don’t know. I have to meet with the board of directors tomorrow morning, and to make things messier, all the department heads are going to be there to try and come up with some big-wig impressing ideas to earn the company the capital we so dearly love.”

“I’m sorry, Harry. For everything.”

The other young man waved a hand, shaking his head as well. “It’s not your fault, Pete. Sometimes I just…I just wonder if the whole universe is conspiring against me.”

“That’d make a great movie,” Peter deadpanned, hoping to improve the situation.

His attempt apparently worked. Harry gave a brief smile before saying, “I better get going, Pete. Try not to get tipsy, okay?”

“I won’t.”

The young CEO left, and Peter found himself feeling better for it. He wondered if it was because of what MJ had said, or if it was because of his own uneasiness about Harry’s anger issues.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by Jameson’s shouts.

“Parker, you moron, get that damned camera of yours out! My son’s coming on in another minute!”

Sighing as the burdens of reality once again settled onto his shoulders, Peter did as he was told.

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The photos would come out perfectly, he had promised Jameson, and that had been enough to get the man off his back. His stomach growling, Peter moved over to the snacks table, only to watch in misery as another guest took the last treat.

Looks like cold ravioli again, he thought, images of his dismal apartment flashing in his mind.

Abruptly, someone clapped a hand on his shoulder, and he turned to find John Jameson eyeing him.

“You’re Peter Parker?” the young American hero asked.

“That would be me, yes.”

“Could I have a word with you? It’s about our mutual friend, Mary Jane Watson.”

A ripple on unease traveled through Peter, but he pushed it aside since his spider-sense wasn’t warning him about John.

“Sure, I guess. I hope you’re not going to take your anger out on me or anything, though.”

John gave him a surprised expression. “Take my anger out on you?” he echoed. “Mr. Parker, I assure you that, despite my father, I hold you in high regard.”

Peter blinked. “I’m sorry?”

John took a deep breath and began to explain. “Even though I’m usually in another part of the country, I speak with my father all the time, and I can assure you that he never, not once, lets up about Spider-Man. Of course, he mentions your connection to Spider-Man, since you’re the guy’s photographer.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you respect me.”

“I respect you because I’ve seen the pictures you’ve taken and though I can’t figure out how you took them, the fact that you managed to snag such good shots of such a phenomenal person is proof that you’ve got the kind of skill that’ll take you places. I respect that.”

Peter didn’t know how to respond to that kind of praise, so he just gave his thanks.

“Now, look, Mr. Parker—”

“You can call me Peter, everyone else does,” the young informed the other.

“Thanks. Anyway, Peter, I wanted to really talk to you about our friend, Mary Jane Watson.”

“Go on.”

“You two have been close friends since grade school, and God forbid I try and break up that kind of relationship, but I thought it would be the right thing to tell you that Mary Jane and I were engaged.”

Peter nearly dropped his camera. “I’m…what?”

“Kind of unusual, I know, seeing as how I’m hardly ever here and she’s always busy with her acting career, but we are engaged, and regardless of MJ’s objections, I was the one who wanted you to attend the wedding.”

Peter found that he had lost his voice, and as he tried to regain it, John continued.

“I know what’s been happening with MJ lately—how could I not, with all the press coverage?—and I wanted to let you know that I don’t hold anything she does against her?”

Finally regaining his voice, Peter asked, “You don’t?”

John shook his head. “If I had four big, metal tentacles stuck on my back, I’d go a little crazy myself. Listen, I know it seems mean of me, but I can’t have you telling people MJ and I are engaged. If the press ever got wind of it, I’d be hounded constantly, and I don’t want to even begin imagining what kind of crap MJ would get.”

Peter nodded, understanding all too well how bad press could ruin someone.

“Can I ask you something personal?”

Though taken aback, Peter managed a positive answer.

“Do you love MJ?”

The photographer’s mouth went dry as he struggled to answer John’s question, half-formed words coming out in his attempts. Swallowing hard, he rasped out, “I…I don’t know.”

“I think you do, and I think she loves you back. She was very adamant about you not coming to the wedding, and after meeting you here tonight, I have to say that I can think of no other reason except that she genuinely cares for you. You don’t argue as much as she did unless you have one hell of a good reason.”

Peter was at a complete loss for words. Here was this man, telling him that he was engaged to an angel, and that the angel loved him, Peter!

As the young Parker stood there, thunderstruck, John put a hand on his shoulder and said, “I should probably let you digest all this. Hope you have a good night.” He then moved off, disappearing into the crowd.

Need some air, Peter thought through a haze. I have to get this all sorted out. A minute later, he was shuffling out the front doors and onto the sidewalk, where he stopped and turned his head to the stars above, as though they could provide the help he sought. Just give me a sign.

Without warning, not even from his unique powers, someone bumped into Peter, ruining his moment.

“Sorry,” Peter automatically apologized. “Got in the way there.”

“It’s all right,” the man said. “It was my fault I wasn’t looking—Peter!”

Peter stared at the man. “Dr. Octavius? What are you doing here?”

“There’s no time to explain here!” The doctor grabbed Peter by the arm, and began pulling him down the street. “We need to talk about your friend, Miss Watson! Immediately!”

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AUHTOR: Well, Harry’s been handled, and I hope you all liked the scene with John. What could Otto’s plan be? Perhaps we’ll find out next chapter?

NEXT: Soul