#4 - The Amazing Spider-Dad!

By John Stevenson

Peter Parker had been many things in his life. A nerd, a photographer, a scientist, a husband, even a superhero. However, of all those things, to him, none could compare to his newest title: Daddy.

It had been only a few short months ago* that Peter and Mary Jane had thought their daughter Baby May to be gone forever. However, that had all changed in the blink of an eye.**

(* Gotta love comicbook time -ADS)

(** See last issue, ASM #3, for Baby May's return -ADS)

The twist of fate had been remarkable and any skeptical person would have doubted the truth to it, but the fact of the matter was, Peter and MJ knew that sometimes miracles could happen.

Peter sat on the floor with Baby May playing the most exciting game of peek-a-boo of his life.

"Peek-a-boo!"

Baby May giggled.

"Peek-a-boo!"

More giggling.

It was amazing how quickly she had warmed up to her parents. Peter chalked it up to a special bond.

Mary Jane was at the store buying much needed baby supplies and Aunt May was in the kitchen warming up a bottle. That left Peter all alone to enjoy some very pleasant company.

Aunt May walked into the room. "Now, I wonder which one of you two is the infant?" she teased Peter.

"That's easy. Both of us!" Peter exclaimed chuckling.

May handed Peter the bottle and stared at the closest thing to a grandchild she had. Baby May in response, gave her one big, toothless smile.

"Well, aren't you a smiley baby," the older May said in a baby-ish voice.

Peter was so relieved that Aunt May had accepted that this was indeed his daughter. He knew it was hard to believe. He wasn't sure if he were in her place if he would believe it... MJ and he had spent all of two hours recounting May's return with the notable omission of Peter being in the Spidey suit.

May finally tore her gaze away from the baby that bore her name and went about tidying up the penthouse apartment with a quickness that seemed impossible of her frail frame. Grabbing a stray newspaper, she looked at the front page.

"Peter," she said, "This paper is almost a week old."

Peter turned away from the baby who was sucking greedily at the bottle. "We've been so busy these past few days, I haven't even had a chance to look at it. Which one is it?"

Peter had indeed been busy. In the same week he had found his daughter, he had battled zombies in the streets of New York*, and he had learned that Carol Danvers knew his biggest secret.**

(* That would be in Av2000's Captain America #11 by Gary Dreslinski -ADS)

(** And THAT would be in Av2000's Warbird #9 by Des Davies -ADS)

"Well, I'm surprised you don't know. Your family is the top story."

"Huh?"

"The headline says, 'Spider-Man rescues super-model and her baby from insane kidnapper'. Not everyday a man gets himself on the front page of the Daily Bugle."

Peter smiled at the irony. "Wow - MJ'll want to keep that for Baby May's scrapbook."

"Then I suppose I'll put it in your bedroom on the dresser."

"Thanks, Aunt May."

"It's shame that that Spider-Man had to get so much of the credit, though."

For the first time in days Peter frowned. An odd thought crossed his mind.

"Spider-Man did get a lot of credit, didn't he?" he said more to himself than to Aunt May who had already left the room. "Since when does ol' Jolly Jonah publish a Spidey story as is?"

Peter was pulled from his thoughts by his daughter.

"Ga," she said as she pushed the nearly empty bottle away.

"I'll take that to mean you're not hungry anymore?"

"You call this photography, Yin! You call yourself a photographer. What is this supposed to be anyway? A shoe!" shouted J. Jonah Jameson, leaning on his desk with both fists, his face red and the large vein in his forehead throbbing.

On the receiving end of the tirade was Angelica Yin, a Bugle photographer.

All of the employees were used to Jameson's constant yelling, but never before had Yin seen him this angry. He looked down right mad... with the connotation of your choice.

As Jameson's yelling finally stopped, Angelica couldn't find words. Instead of trying to argue with the bullheaded publisher, she stood from her seat grabbed her folder and walked out of his office.

Jonah watched her go and simply slumped into his chair. He swivelled around to look out his office window at a perfect view of downtown Manhattan. Jonah dropped his face into his hands and let out a long, exasperated sky. These past couple of weeks had definitely taken their toll on him.

A knock came at his office door.

"WHAT?" he shouted crankily.

He heard the door open and someone step inside.

"It's me Jonah," came a familiar voice.

Jonah swivelled back around in his chair to see his good friend and Editor in Chief of the Daily Bugle, Robbie Robertson.

"What can I do for you, Robbie?" Jonah asked, all trace of anger gone from his voice. Robbie had always been the only person who could get through to Jonah.

Robbie took the seat that had been occupied by Ms. Yin, moments earlier. "I was hoping to ask you that question, Jonah. What's going on? We've worked together a long time, and I know it's no deadline that's got you this worked up."

"I haven't been sleeping well, that's all," Jonah grumbled.

What he didn't mention was that his sleep was being disturbed by a recurring dream... no a nightmare in which he unmasked Spider-Man. Up until recently, Jonah had never been able to make out Spider-Man's face in the dream. Now, though, that he could see a face, it was worse. He woke up every night screaming. He had slept in the basement the past few nights so as not to wake up Marla, who had her share of worries, as well.

"Is that really all it is, Jonah? The JJJ I know has never let lack of sleep stop him before. There's more."

Jonah cursed inwardly. Robbie was of course right. He hated that the man could read him so easily, but at the same time was glad that he had.

"It's Mattie."

Although seemingly impossible, Robbie looked even more worried. "You mean your niece, Mattie? The one staying with you."

Jonah nodded. "Marla and I think she might have gotten herself into some trouble that she might not be able to get herself out of."

An understatement, to be certain. Marla had just recently showed Jonah the mask she had found in Mattie's room, and she recounted how she had gone into the room to find that Mattie had disappeared. The next morning, however, she had joined them for breakfast. Where could she have been disappearing off to at nights.

Jonah had begun to get upset with Marla for not telling him earlier, but she argued that she didn't want to trouble him more unless she was sure she wasn't jumping to conclusions. Now that he knew the facts, Jonah was positive something was wrong. His worst fears were terrible. He couldn't quite bring himself to accept them.

"Have you tried talking to Mattie?" Robbie asked, trying to be helpful.

"She won't listen to some crazy ol' coot who's not even related to her, Robbie. I don't know what to do."

"Ask for help."

"What?"

"Sometimes Jonah, there's things we can't handle on our own. That's life. Sometimes, we just need others' help. I think you need to find someone who can help you, and ask them. Maybe someone Mattie will listen to."

Jonah tried to digest what he was hearing.

It was the middle of the afternoon, when Mary Jane rang up to their apartment and asked Peter to come down and help her bring all the baby's stuff up. Thanks to Peter's patented Spider-strength, the couple were able to bring all of the baby supplies up in only three short trips.

When they had finally finished, Mary Jane rushed into the apartment and took Baby May into her arms the same way she had in the boathouse, as though she hadn't seen her darling in months.

"This is wonderful," said Aunt May watching as the couple and their child all were smiling. MJ holding the baby and Peter holding a box the size of a 1-inch binder marked, "FRAGILE".

"One big happy family. On that note, there was something I wanted to announce to both of you."

"What is it, Aunt May?" Mary Jane asked, most of her attention still on the baby.

"I'm leaving New York."

Mary Jane's gaze shot directly at Aunt May and Peter dropped his box which hit the floor with a resounding crash.

"Wh - what?" they both managed to stutter.

"Ga?" added another small voice.

"You've all been so busy lately I didn't want to bother you. After all, this is a very important part of your life and I feel I'm just a burden to you."

"Nonsense!" Peter and MJ both exclaimed at the same time.

"Ga!"

"That's very sweet of you two, really, but I think it's time I let you live your lives."

"B - but, Aunt May, where will you go?" asked Peter, still shaky.

"Florida. Anna's been feeling somewhat lonely, in that condo of hers, so I thought I would keep her company."

"You're going to live with Aunt Anna?!" Mary Jane exclaimed. "She didn't mention any of this to me on the phone when I talked to her on Tuesday!"

"We agreed I should be the one to tell you both."

"Aunt May, you can't go..."

"Of course I can. I'm not getting any younger, Peter. I'm just a hassle to you two young kids. You have a family now, and you don't need me to cause anymore trouble. With Anna, we can be our own troubles, and I won't be alone. Besides, it will give you an excuse to stop working so hard and come down to see me."

Peter was speechless he couldn't find words to come out of his open mouth.

"Thank you for being so understanding," Aunt May said, as she walked out of sight into her room.

"I - I don't believe it," Peter said.

"She's a strong woman who knows what she wants, Peter. Nothing's going to changer her mind."

"But - but..."

"No buts about it."

They both stood there in silence for a few moments.

Mary Jane finally spoke, "Picture frames."

"What?"

She pointed at the box that still lay at Peter's feet. "Picture frames."

"Oh, sorry," Peter mumbled feeling suddenly sheepish.

"I forgive you, Tiger." She moved up to him and gave him a kiss. "But if I were you, I'd hurry up."

"Why?"

"Because stores close at six and those frames were hard to find."

"Ga!"

THE PREVIOUS NIGHT

It seemed that in New York, no matter how warm the day was, the night air was always cool. On the banks of the Hudson River the wind was always a little heavier. As it swept through ones body, a shiver automatically ensued.

New York Senator Ward stood along the banks, cursing under his breath for not having worn something heavier and for having bothered to show up early. His associate was never on time. He was ready at his own convenience.

This stretch of the river bank was almost deserted. A few people sat on benches here or there, or just plain on the grass. A few others strolled by. All of them were Ward's people. If anyone who wasn't supposed to be there approached, they were scared away by the "street kids".

To the average observer, the scene looked perfectly normal. How was anyone to know that the happenings here were of monumental proportions?

Ward was still cursing when a static sound in his ear signalled to him that someone was contact him.

He put a hand to his ear and grumbled, "What is it?"

"He's here," came the female voice.

Ward turned away from the river and looked in the opposite direction. A mountain of a man approached him from the distance.

Finally, the man arrived at Ward's side. "Good evening, Senator," he said in a silky smooth voice.

Ward nodded in return.

"Lovely evening, isn't it?" the man asked.

Ward thought that he must be keeping quite warm under all that mass. "Yes it is. You'll forgive me for my rudeness, but I have a meeting early tomorrow morning, so I'd like to get straight to business."

"But of course."

"The second shipment will be arriving on schedule. However, some fool on Capitol Hill has delayed the third shipment."

"Is there any danger of the shipment being detected?"

"Not yet, at least."

"If there is, I want it dumped."

Ward's eyes went wide. "WHAT!? B - but - "

"Yes, Senator, I'm well aware of the value of the shipment. However, you must realize that to one such as I, it is insignificant in the face of incriminating evidence."

Ward composed himself. "Very well. That leaves only one item for us to discuss. What of the loose end I informed you of?"

"The loose end is being tied up as we speak," the large man said with a smile.

In a tree, some 25 yards away from the duo, a very odd bird had made its nest.

"This is worse than I thought," Arthur Stacy muttered to himself. "I had figured that Ward was using his government position for smuggling, I had never imagined he'd be in league with... Wilson Fisk! The Kingpin of Cri - GAK!"

STacy's breath and his words were cut off as a wire was slipped around his neck from behind. The detective struggled against his attacker, who was obviously much stronger than him, to no avail

'Going black... can't see...' Stacy thought to himself. 'Stupid... was careless again.'

Then the world went black.

Through the concrete canyons of Manhattan he swung. With a THWIP he fired off another webline. It connected with the wall of a skyscraper and he grabbed on to it, swinging himself as far as the line would take him and then letting go, propelling himself through the air, in a beautiful display of grace. Then, just as it seemed, he would surely free fall to the ground below he fired another webline. The act had become so routine to him, that he performed this seemingly death-defying stunt as an after-thought. It was as regular to him as running.

Spider-Man landed on the rooftop of a very familiar building. The Daily Bugle was a second home to him. For years it had not only been his main source of income, but the place where he could find many of his few friends.

Spider-Man removed the web-pack that he had fitted to his back and placed it gingerly into a corner of the roof, behind a ventilation duct. He removed his street clothes from the pack, while being extremely careful not to disturb the package within. He had spent an hour looking for the right frame to replace the one he had destroyed earlier.

Peter changed in to his civies, the calm of his Spider-Sense telling him that it was safe to do so. Most people would have taken a cab downtown, or the subway, but luckily for Peter, being the Amazing Spider-Man came with the advantage of having an alternate mode of transportation. He had been able to avoid rush hour traffic by taking to the rooftops.

Since he was in the neighborhood, Peter had decided to drop by the Bugle and drop off a few pictures he had taken during his fight with the Zombies in the streets of New York. They weren't his best work, but they were decent.

Peter made his way into the building and descended to the Press floor of the Bugle. As usual, the place was bustling with motion and commotion.

Peter took a deep breath before starting the journey to the other side of the floor, where the publisher's office was. He knew perfectly well that at this time, the Bugle was nowhere near at its busiest. Deadline was still a solid couple of hours away.

Finally, Peter set out across the floor, mentally prepared for the flood of people.

Fifteen minutes later, he had arrived at the door to J. Jonah Jameson's office. Never before had he stopped to talk to so many old acquaintances. Apparently, they were up to date on their current events seeing as how everyone had congratulated him. Being the proud father he was, he smiled, beamed and thanked them for their kindness. He had to admit, that even fifteen minutes was draining.

It was almost panting that he knocked at the publisher's door.

"What?" he heard someone grumble from within.

Peter took this as his signal to enter.

"Hi there, Mr. Jameson!" he exclaimed in greeting.

Jonah who was not looking well to begin with, turned a pasty white, his jaw dropped (making his cigar do the same), and his eyes widened.

"Parker, what are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you again, too, Mr. Jameson," Peter said happily as he plopped himself down into the chair in front of JJJ's desk. "I just dropped by to give you this."

Jameson picked up the envelope that Peter had thrown onto his desk, opened it and examined the contents. There were several pictures of Spider-Man and a black man dressed as Captain America fighting a horde of zombies.

Peter waited for the publisher to say something... anything.

"Parker, you fool."

"Huh?" That was not the answer Peter had expected to get.

Jonah stood up from his chair and his face went from white to red. Peter could see a storm brewing.

"Parker, you've got a wife and a kid now!" Jameson yelled throwing a paper on his desk at Peter. "You've got a well-paying regular job and you still risk your fool neck to bring me back some stupid pictures!"

Peter listened to Jonah's tirade at the same time as he looked over the paper he had been thrown. It was the same paper from last week with the headline 'Spider-Man rescues super-model and her baby from insane kidnapper'.

"Parker, you've got a family! Get your priorities straight! I always thought you had more sense than this!" Jonah continued, still yelling.

'Why does Jonah still have this paper on his desk?' Peter thought to himself.

"Are you even listening to me, boy!" By this point, Jonah was so red, he looked like a tomato, and the vein in his forehead looked like it was going to explode.

Peter rose from his seat, "Yes, Mr. Jameson. I can honestly say you've given me a lot to think about. Thank you, Sir."

With a nod to the irate publisher, Peter turned on his heel and walked to the door of the office, all while thinking, 'There's more to this than me taking pictures.'

As Peter reached for the doorknob, he wasn't aware of the change that had taken place before him. Jonah had returned to being chalk-white and instead of looking angry, he looked like a lost child.

"Peter, wait."

Peter turned around surprised. Not only had Jameson's voice gone down to a tone so polite that he wasn't sure he had ever heard it before, but he had also used Peter's first name.

"Yes, Mr. Jameson?"

Jameson looked uncertain, as if he wanted to say something, but didn't know how to.

"I - I need your help, son. Actually, I need Spider-Man's help."

Peter almost jumped out of his skin.

"Errr... that is," Jonah continued quickly, "I know you... you have means of communicating with him."

"Well, it's not that simple. It's not like I can just call him," Peter bluffed.

"Yes, yes of course. I was just hoping, that if you were able to get in touch with him soon, you could pass on a message to him. Just tell him I need to talk to him. I'm sure he knows where to find me."

"I'll do my best, Mr. Jameson. Now, I really have to be going. Goodbye," Peter lied.

He rushed out the door and quickly shut it behind him.

'What the heck was that all about,' Peter couldn't help but think.

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