Captain Uni
Eddie Brock
Master Bruce
Sep
Cyberlad
I slip home and change into my white and black striped swimsuit. I probably should have taken a shower, too. Swinging around in the summer heat doesn't do great things for the body odor, but the pool will hopefully clear that up. I throw some deodorant on, and put my long, straw-blond hair up in a bun. Looking into my light-blue eyes, I wince slightly at my appearance, "Well, that's about all you're gonna get tonight, everyone."
While I'm late, I luckily have possibly the best way to get to the party. Swinging in a swimsuit and flowing coverup is probably not the best idea, but neither is not showing up when I told my friends I'd be there.
When I touch down one block from Harry's house, I toss my webshooters into my bag and slip in towards the back yard. It's not just our core group of friends here, which makes it way easier to sneak in without being seen. I see Glory and Betty chatting with MJ, laughing about something or other. The two of them had always been closer to MJ than me. They're a bit vapid, if I'm being honest. Maybe they see the fashion-forward Mary Jane as more their speed, even if her party-girl image is more of a front than anything. Peter and Harry are messing around in the pool along with Peter's friend Ned. Ned's a good kid, even if he's possibly the most nerdy person I've ever met. Probably why we get along so well. Other kids from school are milling about, so I saunter up to the pool, thow my coverup and bag onto one of the chairs, and sit on the side, dipping my feet into the summer-warmed water.
The Osborn mansion is incredible, as one would expect. The house itself is something like ten thousand square feet with three bedrooms per person who lives there. The entrance is a huge marble room with stairs that look like they were taken out of the Titanic. Hell, they may have been. Norman's got all the money in the world. The backyard is like something you'd see in Versaille. Immaculate cardens wind around the most gorgeous pool you've ever seen, complete with a huge slide and a swim up bar. We can't use the bar of course...but someday that's gonna come in handy.
"Well, nice of you to finally show!" Harry sends a splash of water my way, drenching me instantly. I shoot him an angry look, and he retaliates by sticking his tongue out to me. Harry would be the prototypical rich kid if he wasn't normally so sweet. Carefree, slightly-oblivious, and over-confident, Harry just floats through life. His attitude has always caused issues with his father, who is the definition of all-business, all-the-time, but they still have a fairly decent relationship. Still, he's generous to the point of overdoing it sometimes, not realizing it can sometimes come off as braggadocios. He's tall and handsome, though is in the weird spot where he hasn't filled out yet. He looks more like a human beanstalk than anything. "What kept you? You missed the fireworks!"
My eyes dart back and forth as I realize I never really concocted a good aliby for showing up late.
"Uhhh, traffic," I finally manage to blurt out. "Dad and I were in Manhattan and got stuck coming back over the bridge. You would not believe how many people are out and about tonight. Managed to see the fireworks from the car though. Not the same, but still pretty good."
Pete looks at me through squinted eyes. I return a look that I hope conveys "I'll tell you later", but will probably just confuse him. Pete is good at a lot of things, but picking up social queues is not one of them.
"Well, I'm glad you made it here safe," Pete smiles knowingly. "I know what New York can be like when the tourists are in town."
"Peter," Ned looks at his friend like he has two heads, "we live in New York freaking City. The tourists are always around. It's like The Walking Dead, except the zombies are even more brainless."
"Give me your Applebees and your Hamilton tickets," Peter mimes being a zombie, with his head tilted to the side and arms raised riggidly. "I must feast on overpriced bagels from crappy tourist locations!"
Ned, in fake terror, flees from Pete, "Oh no! Someone feed this thing some Ray's Pizza so it can pretend to understand New York!"
"I'll go find some pictures of Times Square!" Harry yells, holding Pete back. "That always calms them down."
"Oh my god," I laugh as the scene plays out, "all of my best friends are way too nerdy. What have I done with my life."
Suddenly, the three boys turn to me, all pretending to be zombies.
"Join us, Gwen!" they say in unison as they pull me into the pool. I come back up for air, and splash the three of them, laughing as I do.
"Thanks guys," I narrow my eyes at them. "Next time remind me to shoot you in the head."
"That's cold," Pete mock pouts, before I dunk him and head for the side of the pool.
When I reach it, I notice Glory is about to rummage through my bag. For a moment, I think nothing of it. She normally mooches off my limp balm or steals a piece of gum when we're jamming. But then I remember my webshooters are just sitting in there, as if they're not the most obvious thing that says, "Hey, this girl is a superhero and you should tell literally everyone that fact!"
With speed that is probably a little too close to superhuman, if I'm being honest with myself, I get out of the pool and snatch the bag away from Glory with more force than is probably necessary as well.
"What the hell, Gwen?" she recoils and shoots me a look that means I will definitely regret this moment next time we set up a song list for a gig. "All I wanted was some lip balm!"
"Yea, well," an embarrassed stammer escapes, "j-just ask first. Okay? Just...just ask."
"Fine, whatever," Glory grumbles as she walks away.
Scanning the party, I find that everyone is staring at me like I just smacked her across the face. MJ's got a worried look, and Pete probably realizes exactly what I have in the bag. It's an odd feeling to have all eyes on me now. I've never been comfortable as the center of attention. It's one of the reasons the drums appealed to me. Being able to stay in the background while everyone else did their thing? Great.
Normally, not really a trait you'd consider for a superhero, but that's why I think the suit changes me. When it's on, I'm not Gwen Stacy, nerd and occasional musician.
I'm Spider-Woman.
"Sorry," I grimace to Harry. "Personal stuff. Ya know?"
He makes an icky face, "Ew. Gwen. Say no more. Gross. TMI."
**********
Ditko Luxury Apartments
The Next Day
Black Tarantula sits on the grand balcony of the penthouse apartment of the building, stewing in the July heat. Last night's attack on the Maggia's supply shipment was supposed to be the Silk Cartel's coming out party in America. They had all but taken over South America, but that was not enough for the Tarantula. The world was spread out before the cartel, ripe for the taking. Last night was supposed to be the grand statement of intent. New York was the crown jewel in America, and the cartel would take it, one way or another.
But the Spider-Woman has other ideas, clearly. Stopping the hit last night seemed impossible. It was planned to perfection, as all of the Tarantula's plans were. The men even performed well. They couldn't have expected a superpowered fly in the ointment.
Now it is time to start planning on how to deal with said fly.
"What to do, what to do," the Tarantula muses, rolling an orange from hand to hand. "She is not a skilled or experienced in her line of work. She gets by on raw skill and on her powers. That should be easy enough to counter. Raw force would do it. But I would not mean to throw too many men at the endeavor."
The orange peel easy comes off, and Black Tarantula takes a bite of the succulent fruit, "Perhaps the Enforcers will be able to take care of this nuisance. They have never failed me before. If they do, more desperate measures will have to be taken. And taken they will be."
**********
I come out of my room and find dad asleep at the kitchen table. In his hand sits a cold, stale, half-drank cup of coffee. A little bit of drool hangs on the stubble covering his chin, and his greying hair is mussed to no end. On the table in front of him sits his work computer, and what I assume is a case file for my escapades last night.
"Dad. Daddy," I shake him, and he stirs, surprised. "Calm down, Captain Stacy. It's just your daughter. You were so close to bed. Almost made it."
"Ugh," he rubs his temples before moving onto his eyes, wiping the sleep from his brain, "sorry sweetheart. Last night was not the most fun holiday I've ever had. Work was...interesting to say the least. How was your night?"
"Fine," I shrug. "Hung out at Harry's pool with everyone. Was pretty fun. What happened in the world of organized crime?"
He sighs and puts his face in his hands. Ever since the superheroes started popping up, dad has been...tired. I don't know if it's the worry about them coming here, or if he really does think they will make things worse, but he was never like this before, not even when mom was sick. Now that what he feared was actually happening, I'm legitimately worried about his blood pressure.
"Someone tried to kill two of the Maggia's top guys last night, along with one of their drug runners," his voice is muffled by his hands, before putting them down on the table. "Five guys. All with some serious fire power. South American, we think Argentinian. None of them speak English, and of course they're not talking to our translators. Spider-Woman showed up during it apparently. Only reason we caught them, so I guess she gets a point for that. Problem is she left us the two Maggia heavies. Flint Marko and a guy only known as Hammerhead. They're out on bail because of course we couldn't prove they were doing anything wrong. The dock's security cameras were conveniently turned off."
"So someone at the plant works for the Maggia?" I ask, hoping I sound only mildly interested. The more Dad thinks I'm only half interested in his work, the more likely he'll keep telling me details. He probably shouldn't be telling me this stuff in general, but to him I'm just his little girl. That thought sends a slight tremor of guilt through me, and I curse myself. Now not only am I lying to my dad, I'm using him for information too?
What kind of daughter am I?
"Probably," he shrugs. "Or they paid someone off. But we were closing in on the docks as one of their meeting places, and now Marko and Hammerhead get to walk because we haven't got anything solid to hold them on. Every time we catch a break, they slip through our fingers."
"Well at least you'll be able to find out who's trying to take on the Maggia, right?" I keep the conversation up. "The guys last night had high powered weapons. Maybe these are the same guys who have been killing other mobsters."
He considers it momentarily, "Could be, but forensics thinks that was one guy. Could be working for the same people. But if we have a Latin mob moving in on Maggia territory, I have to assume things are gonna get ugly, fast. Neither of them play around."
I slip into his arms and give him a big hug, "Whatever happens, be safe. Let Spider-Woman get shot at."
He chuckles and returns the hug, "Yea. Maybe we do need her around after all. But once this business is cleared up, I'm totally gonna arrest her."
I look up and laugh at his goofy smirk, "Yea, okay dad. Good luck trying to take down the lady who can stop a truck with her bare hands."
"Hey, I deal with you every day," he laughs. "That's pretty good practice."
Dad, you have no idea.
**********
Silivio Manfredi stares a hole through Flint Marko and Hammerhead. The old man's body may be frail and failing him, but his mind is still as sharp as a dagger and cruel as the grave. He is not a man who enjoys being failed, and the two men in front of him had failed spectacularly. The deal with the Rose was going to supply them for the rest of the summer. Now he will have to get in contact with the smuggler again and find a new safe drop off point. Which would mean bribing more officials. Which would mean more money out of his pocket, not to mention his boss's.
The bigger problem, of course, is the fact that Spider-Woman is now on their tail. Manfredi hoped that they could stay out of her way until the police or some other costumed freak took care of her, but it is clear that's not going to happen,
"What are we gonna do?" Marko asks sheepishly. The man is not the brightest bulb in the chandelier, but he's tough as nails and good at covering his tracks. Manfredi had never seen anyone beat a man as well as Marko can. And he's like a loyal puppy, something you need from your muscle.
"You're gonna get me my fucking shipment," Silvio spat back, spittle flying from his ancient mouth. "I'm gonna find a way to take care of the spider bitch. As well as our new rivals. The Kingpin will want to be briefed."
"What about the other guy?" Hammerhead cracked his knuckles. He's more of the thinking man's muscle. No one knows where Hammerhead came from. He showed up on their doorstep one day with an encyclopedic knowledge of the criminal underworld, and has risen through the ranks with alarming speed. Some think Manfredi will hand over control of his family to the man when he dies, and Manfredi has considered doing just that. Hammerhead is a better option than any of his sniveling sons.
The "other guy" Manfredi's lieutenant mentioned is a ghost, so far. Shows up, kills men with extreme prejudice, and disappears.
"He'll be dealt with."
