Spider-Man had watched as the sniper took aim and fired on Black Cat. He watched as she attacked and killed his partner, and he watched as he then followed her into the warehouse district and disappeared. He watched in shock, as the man blatantly fired a round at her, catching her in the stomach. He watched in shock as blood pooled around both her and her attacker.

He watched as a cleanup crew, all wearing the same military uniform as the dead man, meticulously cleaned blood and other evidence from the scene and in a matter of moments, even the bullet he had heard tumble down the air conditioning shaft had been retrieved, cleaned and then they vanished. His breath held in his chest while his heart hammered as he watched them clean up a body, as if it was garbage day.

The feeling slowly came back to the hands he hadn't even realised he had clenched. The hammering faded and his world came back into focus. He had just watched someone die, immobilized by fear and inexperience. His Black Cat had been a real victim, almost dying before limping off and as he sat, that could be me, was all he could think.

He was left with a conundrum, should he look for the second man? He knew the area was the same he watched Venom fight Black Cat before and he might catch a glimpse of his adversary, or should he follow the group back to their headquarters? It was a puzzle. Black Cat would get more press, a shadowy organisation that could make a body disappear and conducted black ops within city limits would get him exposed or worse, killed.

Black Cat, definitely, he thought to himself. Chasing super killer spies was not good story material and was way above his skill set. He sent out a web line and swung into the district, hoping to grab a glimpse of the pair that took her, or the agent that followed, but as the rain washed away the blood and the scent he lost them. Even as he sat on a ledge and just listened and scanned the grey sky he couldn’t find any sign of them. Sighing, he swung out and patrolled the city once more.

Eddie stretched in the morning, tired from being out as Spider-Man and having to work early in the day. JJ’s work ethic was definitely the early worm gets the story and as crime didn't wait for clocking in time, neither should his reporters. Thankfully, with the pictures and video that Eddie had been producing he was now a staff reporter. Decent enough wages meant he could move from his crappy studio apartment, he might even find a girlfriend but after leaving San Francisco when a relationship didn’t just end but explode, he was hesitant to start. Although JJ's secretary, Betty, he thought her name was, did smile at him a few times, and not just the normal get the hell out my office smile but an actual smile. Maybe once he settled into a better routine he could ask her out for a drink.

He had just finished his editorial piece on the latest Venom incident. A mugger had been found, once again, brutalised and unconscious. Sure he had just assaulted a woman, beating her, and he discovered she was his girlfriend but Venom had broken the guy's jaw, given him a concussion and then robbed him. 

Eddie missed out the part where after Black Cat and Venom left together, missed out the part where his stomach wanted to empty itself as he watched a man die. He shook his head and his fingers trembled as they hovered over the keyboard.

“Writer's block?” a sweet voice asked and as Eddie smiled he looked and there she was, Betty. She had nice wavy black hair that flowed down her neck like a waterfall and while he tried not to stare her figure filled out the dress and blouse she always wore very nicely. Even in black flats, her calves were shapely and as she walked away Eddie admired the view on more than one occasion. Today though she was concerned,

“Yeah, uh, domestic, even if Venom broke the guy's jaw. He deserved it at least a bit, but can't write that, “

Betty hmphed “you should, guys like that get away with murder, she’s lucky” and Eddie nodded, “but never seen you so shook though, what’s got you upset?” and she sat down on his desk,

“Oh, just, some cases bring back bad memories, this one, my uh dad, yeah, “ and he shook his head. “Nah, sorry, can’t” and she placed a hand on his shoulder

“Hey, it's okay, a lot of people have stories like that, a lot of people don't talk about it, it's fine.” and she gave him that smile again and he patted her hand,

“Thanks though, but uh, better get back to work before JJ sees us, might get docked for an unofficial break,” and she laughed,

“On my way to him now, proofreading and editing, it's a dirty job but someone’s gotta do it” and Eddie snorted, he hated proofreading and editing and was always glad he could send it off for someone else to do it. Judging from the pile of printouts Betty was carrying, so did a lot of others.

“Not just?” and he motioned to the pile,

“JJ hates digital, still a hardcopy guy.” and she smirked “well, back to the grind” and as she walked away Eddie wasn't sure, but he could swear she was wiggling her ass a bit more than normal.

As he leaned back to think about what she and he clasped his hand on top of his head, maybe he did deserve what Venom did, but he wouldn't learn anything, he would see that and not the crime he committed. He wouldn't learn, only the time in jail and a sentence would teach him, Eddie knew from experience that physical punishment never taught anything except hate, and as he leant forwards his fingers touched the keys and he began to write his article.

At the end of the long day, Eddie walked back to his studio apartment. It was small, and the one-room was a reminder that even good-paying jobs in New York meant living a frugal lifestyle but it was his. Most days he just flopped down onto his couch bed, slept for a few hours and then went out as Spider-Man, saving tidying up for when it got really bad, or in most cases, he ran out of clean underwear.

Setting his kettle on and pulling an instant cup noodle out his cupboard Eddie waited, bent over with his head resting on the kitchen counter as he waited for the kettle to boil, filled his dinner, and grabbed a beer out of the fridge.

He had folded the lid over and grabbed a cleanish fork from the pile when there was a knock at the door. Peering through the spy hole, it was Betty.

“Hey Eddie you left early so I never got to see you” she spoke through the chained door,

“Uh, give me a moment?” and he closed it on her. She could hear the scrambled thumping as he was tidying up, and she shook her head and smiled as eventually, a flustered and red Eddie opened the door. “Uh, come in.”

Betty had to stifle a laugh, Eddie had thrown dirty plates and crockery in the sink and hidden them under a now wet dishcloth, clothes were bundled and thrown in a hamper and she caught a glimpse of a bright red onesie, badly hidden under some socks. “Uh, yeah, I, eh, it's laundry day” and Eddie grabbed the hamper, and slid it into the kitchen where she couldn't see it.

His place was a studio, so the kitchen was a double counter, one against the wall with the small stove on it and another, only a few feet away leaning into the living room. A couch had been pushed against it and as there seemed to be no bed, she guessed it pulled out.

“So, uh, sit” and Eddie pulled a pillow out from the couch and made space for her. “Uh, so, yeah, what brings you here?” he asked, inwardly groaning at his stupid stiffness. It wasn't like he’d never talked to a woman before.

She shook her head and smiled, “Are you gay?” and Eddie took a second before scrunching his face and muttering,

“Huh?”, now he was really confused, “why? Uh, why? why would you ask that?”

“Cause, I flirted, I dropped hints, I shook my ass, I'm not even wearing a bra. I did everything those stupid articles said and not once did you look at me, not one date, or complement. So, are you gay? Am I wasting my time here?” She stated as she stared at him.

Of course, as she mentioned it Eddie looked down. It was chilly in New York and while Betty was wearing a coat she had unzipped it and he could now see she was right. The floral-patterned dress she was wearing clung to her like a second skin and as the chill air hit it, her nipples had creased and were now standing erect and Eddie blushed and looked away. Betty looked down and clutched her coat shut, “Oh my god, Eddie,” and she turned from him, “I said gay, not stare.”

Eddie stared a the ceiling, muttering, “no definitely not gay.”

As Betty composed herself, “I can see that, so why? I mean, if you don't like me then why the interest, why the signals, I asked the rest of the staff, no girlfriend and no ring, so, I mean, why?” 

Betty was tired of being alone in New York. The dating scene for people her age was either divorcee’s, widowers, or the players who couldn't handle a relationship and still acted like they were twenty. One night stands with disappointing sex and even more disappointing excuses. She had taken Eddie's friendliness as charming and hoped he would want more, but well, here they were.

“I uh,” and Eddie sighed, “I’m dumb?” was all he said and Betty laughed.

“So?” And he nodded, “good” and she unzipped her coat again. “Now you can look” and the rest of Eddie's evening was a whole lot better than he had ever imagined.

In the morning Eddie woke feeling better than he had in months, since the incident in fact. As he looked over at the sleeping form of Betty he made two promises. The first was to stop being so hesitant. Last night he took a chance and now a very attractive and very demanding woman had invited herself into his life. The second was to get a new bed, as the sex had been amazing but uncomfortable on the couch bed. They had still managed though, several times, until Betty gave in. Being Spider-Man did have some advantages. 

Shit, he thought, and as he gently crept out of bed and over to the kitchen, filling and putting on the coffee pot he slid the laundry basket with his Spider-Man costume under the sink. He would deal with that later properly but as long as Betty didn't see it it would be fine.

Looking around his apartment, he realised he needed to spruce the place up as well. He had been living here for over 6 months but had never done anything, treating it like a temporary thing. Even with better wages, he would be here a while so some pictures, a few nik-naks would make it seem more homely, and if he was having company over more often some better furniture and definitely a lockable box to keep his outfits in.

He could even afford a better costume. Right now, he had been wearing a double onesie, thin, and enough to cover his identity. It was red and the second blue, the cheapest he could find and had been hastily stitched together, he could now get something better. 

He had been browsing wetsuits and found several neoprene ones in a similar style, red shoulders and arms with blue bodies and legs. He would need boots though and gloves but they needed to be modified. His powers meant his fingertips needed to be uncovered and the sticky webbing he shot from his wrist needed an opening or it would just coat and glue him into the suit. He wondered if a sharpie could be used to draw on webbing, go for a complete spider theme and maybe find some art online he could get for free, a small but obvious spider to sit in the middle of his webbing. As Betty moaned and rolled over he knew it would have to wait though.

As Betty lifted herself and smiled at Eddie, he took out his one cup, and a glass for himself and made them coffee, gratefully watching as she lingered over dressing, and smiling at him as he handed her the cup.

Life was looking up for Eddie Brock, New York's friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man.

~

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