Movie Magic

"What exactly do you mean, Mr. Saul," Dad asked, not even caring how increasingly red-faced I was getting listening to this whole thing.

"I didn't mean anything, I was just saying that - "

"You were just saying that my police force is useless now that there are super heroes on the scene, right?" Dad leaned forward in his seat. "That's not exactly something I like to hear, I hope you know."

I felt like I was about to die. There was Timmy - sweet, good-natured, innocent, never-wanted-to-piss-off-my-Dad Timmy - practically being beaten with a night stick. He looked as uncomfortable as I felt, and that was really uncomfortable. I almost wanted to just get up and go, but I didn't want to leave Tim there to get roasted by my dad without me there.

And so, I sat there, nervously eating my fish all the while Dad kept it up. "I understand that you kids like all these super heroes that keep popping up, but the police force is just as necessary as it always has been."

Tim looked away from Dad. "I didn't say that the cops were useless, just that - "

"Just that all we have to do now is sit in our offices and twiddle our thumbs while people like Guardian, or Knight, or Angel - " Or Arachnya! Say my name! " - do our job, but we can't do that."

I almost wanted to cry, and it was more for Tim than it was for me.

"Sir, I really wasn't trying to say that you guys don't do your part, because you absolutely do, but there are things that the cops can't handle, and I don't see - "

And Dad cut him off again. "Don't see what? Why we don't just run around and change all the diapers of the people pissing themselves while the super people fight?"

I looked over at Mom, who gave me the most sympathetic look she's given me since I started swinging around town on webs that come out of my skin. She must have gone through something similar with her parents when they met her first boyfriend. Who just so happened to be my dad, actually.

Eventually, I just couldn't take it. I stood up and slammed my fist down on the table and nearly yelled, "Dad!" After that, all three of the people still sitting just stared at me. It took me a few seconds to realize that they were waiting for me to drop the other shoe, so I more calmly said, "Let's go for a walk, Tim."

***

"I can't believe him!" I screamed, probably blowing out Timmy's ears. "You didn't do anything, and there he was, just ramming your head against the wall for nothing!"

"Charlie," he said.

But I ignored him, for some reason. Good work, Charlie, don't try to help him while your dad's reaming him, and then ignore him when he's trying to talk to you, just treat your boyfriend like crap, why don'tcha? "He's never like that when any of my other friends are there, but all of a sudden, just because it's you, he goes out of his way to make you feel like crap!"

"Charlie," he said again, a little louder.

And, again, I ignored him. Stupid, stupid, stupid! "Run you down just because he doesn't like that I actually met a guy that I like! What is it with cops for dads, they're always crappy with their daughters' boyfriends! All we were supposed to do was have a normal, pleasant meal, and he goes and thinks you're questioning his manhood, or something! Jesus Chri - "

"Charlie!" Timmy yelled, finally snapping me out of my Angry-At-My-Dad stupor.

"Huh?" I kind of whimpered out.

"It's okay. Obviously, I said something wrong and set your dad off, my bad. I'm sorry." He said that with a smile on his face. I'm not even joking. This guy who should be angry at both my dad and especially me, and he was smiling. The only thing I could do was nervously smile alongside him. "I just hope that he doesn't hold it against me."

"I'm not gonna let him hold it against you. My dad listens to me, believe it or not."

Tim chuckled a little. "I'll bet."

A thought crossed my mind. I grabbed Timmy by the arm and started dragging him along with me until we got to Granger Park. I kept dragging him along until we got to the lake, where I practically threw him to the ground and then sat down beside him. "I love coming here," I said, probably surprising the hell out of Tim.

In fact, he had a very confused look on his face. "Is there a reason we're here?"

I shrugged. "I wanted to go for a walk, and this is my favorite place to go to." Well, outside web-swinging around the city looking for petty crooks to beat up. That's always fun.

"And why did you shove me down?"

"To sit beside you. On the ground. By the lake. It's a romantic thing." Boy, listen to me. I sound like I know what I'm doing.

He sighed. "I guess that's a good thing, then."

Y'know that feeling? That feeling that you get, when you know you're about to kiss the first guy you've ever felt a connection with? It's one of the most feminine of feelings, like you just wanna close your eyes and hope to God that the guy who's kissing you doesn't do the same and accidentally kiss your nose or your chin. It's probably the best feeling a girl who's trying to save herself for marriage can have.

This. This was not that feeling.

Nope. Instead, it was my spider-sense, making me aware of the fact that a car was about to land on us. I rolled over, on top of Timmy, and then made us roll around on the ground until we were out of the path of the flying, flaming vehicle, and when it hit, Timmy just did a double take at the spot we'd just been laying on.

"Whoa!" I said, trying to fake surprise. "Good thing I wanted to roll around in the grass with you!" I wasn't even convincing myself, how the hell could I convince him? Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why was I being so stupid?

Timmy gave me a weird look. "Did you... did you know that was gonna happen?"

I shook my head so very rapidly that I almost ripped my own head off, I'm sure. "Nonononono! I had no idea that was gonna happen!"

"You... You're Arachnya, aren't you?"

My eyes opened wide. "What?!"

***

And with the explosion of the car to the side of us, I woke up. At some point during that horrendous dream, I grabbed my pillow and started chewing on it. Ughghgh... I can't believe I did that. Would that dream actually be how I handle telling whatever guy I'm dating at that time that I'm a costumed super hero? I hoped not. That was horrible.

I looked to my left and realized that I'd left my alarm on, despite the fact that it was the weekend. I sat on my bed, looked out the window, and realized that this was my first day off since I started working at the Brigade. And how do I plan on spending it? You guessed it, web-swinging!

But first, I needed some breakfast. I slipped a shirt and a pair of shorts on and walked out into the kitchen, where Mom and Dad were sitting across the table from one another, not saying anything to each other. This was a common thing before my super powers started making them drift apart, but it always felt worse now. And I always felt responsible. Kinda 'cause I was.

I sat down with a bowl and a cereal box. I'm one of those 'weird' people who doesn't eat cereal with milk. Sue me, I think cereal tastes just fine without milk. Mom, to my left, was eating some toast and eggs. She asked me if I wanted any, but I didn't, so I said no. I couldn't tell what Dad was eating because he was hidden behind a newspaper, but I could hear him crunching down on something.

I would have actually been eating my cereal if I hadn't caught sight of what was on the front page of Dad's newspaper:

MOVIE ICON JAMES CAMERON OPTIONS ARACHNYA FILM FOR SONY PICTURES

As if I had super speed, I snatched the news paper and practically glued my eyes to the article. Movie? About me?! Without my permission?! Well, technically, since no one but my family and friends know my secret identity and I'm don't own a trademark on the name Arachnya, I don't exactly have to give them permission, but still!

"Charlie, what the hell?" Dad asked, spilled milk all down his shirt. Apparently he was also eating cereal. And I somehow got milk on his shirt. Good thing I helped Mom with the laundry yesterday.

I pointed at the newspaper. "This!"

Mom chuckled. "Look on the bright side. You're the first real super hero to get a movie based on her."

"But... but..." I stammered.

Dad patted me on the shoulder. "Kiddo, this sort of stuff happens all the time." He pointed at his shirt. "This, on the other hand, hasn't happened since you were little, when you thought my shirt was a jungle gym."

I blushed. "I was little. I was weird back then."

He raised an eyebrow. "You crawl on walls. You're weird now." He took the newspaper away from me and looked over the article. "Damn, they're pretty quick. They just announce it in yesterday's paper, they begin shooting today. How'd they get a script together so quickly? Eh, it's probably just a rejected Spider-Man script they slapped your name on. Looks like it's shooting here in town, too."

I jumped up onto the ceiling and looked down at the part he was reading. "Where?"

Mom half screamed/half whispered, "Charlotte Elaine Harkins, get off that ceiling right now!"

I dropped back down to the floor. Dad chuckled. "East side of town, Charlie." He set the paper down on the table. "Listen, baby, they're just innocent film makers, don't scare them off. After all that crap with Guardian and his group last week, this'll be good for the city." He took a sip of what was left of his milk. "Oh, and by the way. Sorry about getting into that argument with your boyfriend last night."

How had I forgotten about that? Oh, yeah, because I had a weird dream about it afterward. Everything that happened in the dream really happened, save for the car being thrown at us. And the rolling around in the grass part. We pretty much just took a walk through the park, where I apologized for Dad. How did I forget about that, again?

Oh well, I shrugged. "I apologized to him for you, Dad. He said he was sorry."

He sat back in his chair and pulled up the newspaper again. "Well, good. The kid did kinda get on my nerves. Talkin' about - "

"Dad!"

He smiled.

***

After slipping on my costume, I took a swing by the part of town where they were shooting the movie about me. I promised my dad that I wouldn't scare them into not making a movie about me, but I still wanted to make sure I was well represented, even if I wouldn't be in the movie.

Hmm... It would be cool to actually be in a movie about me, wouldn't it?

Of course it would. But I can't be. Unless I'm an extra. Maybe I should have taken the costume off and tried to be an extra.

Oh well, so, I was swinging. I landed on a billboard overlooking the shoot and watched as - and I'm not kidding - Tobey Maguire pulled off a crappy imitation of my mask and complained about how much he was sweating. I felt like there was steam coming out of my ears. I looked around and one of those camera cranes that you see almost any time you watch a DVD special feature about the making of a movie and I jumped onto that.

Off to one side, sitting in what appeared to be a repurposed barber's chair (with the word Director printed across the back with diamonds, I'm not even joking), James Cameron shouted, "Cut!" He stood up from his chair and walked over to the camera I was sitting on and folded his arms across his chest. "Can I get at least a little professional courtesy here? I don't need extras running around my location shoot, trying to get their fifteen minutes."

If he could see my face under the mask, he'd see me extremely confused. "Extra? I'm not an extra."

Someone walked up to him and handed him a clipboard. He flipped through a bunch of papers on it, then turned back to me and shook his head. "I can't seem to find female Arachnya cosplayer on my call sheet, here. So who the hell are you?"

I was getting mad. "I'm nah... I'm... I'm not a freaking cosplayer! I am Arachnya!"

He looked at me for a long time, then shook his head. "Nope. I don't think so. You see, last we saw on the news, Arachnya's a guy."

I seriously wanted to throw something at him. "A name like Arachnya and you think I'm a guy?!"

Tobey raised his hand. "In my defense, I did tell the studio that you were female."

I looked over at him. "I'd forgive you if Spider-Man 3 hadn't sucked." I turned back to Cameron. "And you, what was with that three hour piece of overgrown Smurf trash?! How is it a movie gets made about me, and they put you in charge of it?!"

Cameron shrugged. "Sony apologizing for pulling the Spider-Man rights away from me?"

I narrowed my eyes under my mask. "Your Spider-Man would have sucked harder than Spider-Man 3 or Elektra." Everyone in the area turned their heads when an explosion went off a block and a half away. I turned back to Cameron and said, "If I didn't have to go take care of that, I'd so web your ass to a flag pole." I turned toward the direction of the explosion and shot a webline, then swung away.

***

Mr. Wilkins and Mr. Jenkins were standing guard while Mr. Scott walked inside the building and grabbed the nearest sorter by the collar. "I need to see your manifests," Scott said, adding pressure by pressing the barrel of his gun to the man's temple.

The man was sweating up a storm. He had closed his eyes. "This is a post office, man! What idiot robs a post office!"

Scott pulled the man closer. "We're not robbing you, simpleton. You sort and deliver mail to every address in East City, and we need to know them. Once we know them, we can finally - "

He was cut off by a young female voice. "What? Figure out which guy you accidentally sent that bag of sex toys to?" Scott spun around and saw a girl in a yellow and black costume hanging upside down from a web. Wilkins and Jenkins were both webbed up and hanging from a ceiling.

Scott aimed at the girl and fired three times, but the girl dodged each time. Once she landed on the floor, he fired again, but she dodged yet again. He couldn't figure out how she was doing it. "Stand still, you little bi - " Webbing over his mouth stopped him from talking.

"That's just rude! Here I am, just trying to stop you from committing a federal crime, and you call me such a mean word?! I'm just doing my extremely underpaying job!"

Scott ripped the webbing off of his face. "You're an abomination!"

The girl was sticking to the ceiling, looking down at him. "No, I'm a sixteen year old girl who just kicked your friends' butts, and I'm doing a pretty good job on you, too." He fired another salvo of bullets, but she dodged them again. "What are you guys, anyway? You're clearly not super powered, and you're robbing a post office, so you're obviously not very bright. What's your deal?"

Scott ejected his empty magazine and pulled out his billy club, then ran at the girl when she landed on the floor. She jumped out of the way yet again. "We're Humans Against Rising Powers, monster, and we're going to end your kind once and for all!"

***

I landed in front of him. "HARP? Your name is HARP? Look, my name is cool, my friend's name is also cool, another one I know is pretty cool, too. HARP? Nope, not cool." I webbed his feet to the floor. "How about you come up with something better?"

The guy was probably scowling under that ski mask, but I didn't really care. HARP, seriously. That's so stupid. He tried taking a swing at me, but he couldn't reach me, which made it just look funny. I was grinning like a three year old under my mask, but he couldn't see me. I shot a webline at his billy club and ripped it out of his hands. I caught and started tapping it against my shoulder. "Buddy, you are the stupidest criminal I've nabbed in the last five-and-a-half weeks."

I waited around until the cops arrived to take the three geniuses away. Dad wasn't there, but Ms. Adamsen and TImmy were. Good for him. Ever since I got hired, Ms. Adamsen took a real liking to me, and I became her favorite photographer while Tim got sidelined to Mr. Cabot. Lucky him, I've got the day off, so he gets to hang around with Ms. Adamsen today.

"Arachnya!" she shouted, running up to me with tape recorder in hand. Tim was struggling to keep up. "Arachnya! Can we get a few words."

I was just chilling out on the side of the building - sticking to the wall, of course - and slid down a little bit to talk to her. I hoped my mask was enough to make my voice sound kinda different. "Sure," I said. Hopefully, short responses would help.

"You've been active in the city ever since the Event, but this is the first time you've spoken to any members of the press, why is that?"

Thank God for the mask, because they couldn't see me nervously darting my eyes. "I'm a shy person," I answered.

"A shy person, you say? Why is that?"

I sighed, then pretended to look at a watch, shot a webline at a building. "Gotta go, 24's on." And I hightailed it out of there as fast as possible, back to that damn movie set.

***

Anna looked at Timmy, who was busy taking pictures of Arachnya as she swung away. "Isn't 24 on on Mondays?" she asked.

Timmy nodded, but he didn't answer. That had sounded familiar.

***

THE NEXT DAY:

Harkins couldn't believe it. He watched as the three thugs who trashed a post office walked out of his jail, having secured their bail. Whoever the hell was bankrolling them had to have more money than whoever the hell was bankrolling that quadriplegic telepath with her little gang of super kids. He took a sip of his coffee and then walked back over to his desk, which Charlie was sleeping on, with his coat covering her. He sighed.

Poor kid. After that post office thing she'd broken up, she'd gone home, where her mother had run her over the coals with all the worry she'd been feeling and all crap she had to put up with knowing that at any point in time, either her husband or her daughter may not come home for dinner, permanently. He'd been living with that ever since he'd met Melissa, but now she was dropping it all on Charlie, and the poor kid just didn't have the self-control to just take it and go to her room for a little while.

A young detective (his shield plus six days) stepped in the doorway and knocked on the open door. "Captain?" he whispered, walking into the room. Harkins motioned for him to come in and took the file folder the kid had. He still couldn't remember the kid's name. Biscuits, or something.

"What is it, Billings?" he asked, trying not to wake up the sleeping fifteen year old on his desk.

"Butters, sir."

"Butters. What is it?"

"Those HARP guys from yesterday. They're apparently a legitimate organization, been active since the Event." He reached over Charlie and opened the folder in Harkins' hands. "They're even operating overseas, too."

"You're kidding? These guys are international?" he asked, a little louder than he should have.

In her sleep, Charlie mumbled, "No I didn't have dinner for pancakes last Friturday..."

Butters raised an eyebrow. "Is she...?"

"She talks in her sleep. Used to walk, now she talks." He flipped a couple pages. "These guys fanatics, or something? 'Monsters of science'?"

Butters sighed. "We don't know, sir. All we do know is that Detective Montoya put in a call to Homeland Security, and they told us to back off."

It was Harkins' turn to sigh. "Great. Tell Holly to get in here ASAP, I wanna know what they told her." Butters nodded, then left the room. Harkins just set his cup of coffee down next to Charlie and prayed to God that she didn't roll over. He started reading the file, noticed the odd stamp in the corner. He couldn't quite make out the acronym printed there, wondered what it was.

Holly walked in and gave the sleeping girl on the desk a deeply saddened look. "She have a fight with her mom again?" Harkins nodded. "Poor kid. If that's what happens when you've gotta deal with a costume living with you, I'm glad Monica's got that Morris lady watching over her."

He tapped the stamp in the corner of the paper. "What's this, anyway?"

She shrugged. "Couldn't tell you. I'd just gotten off the phone with DHS and this guy in plain clothes walks in, weird looking badge on his belt, and hands me that file folder."

He looked up at her from the folder. Something weird was going on. "See any letters on the badge?" She shook her head. "Damn. Alright, DHS told us to lay off, we'll lay off." He looked at Charlie. "Maybe if she beats the crap out of them enough, they'll back off East City."

***

I was sitting at my desk at work, practically about to fall asleep. Sleeping on a desk isn't as comfortable or allows as restful a sleep as you'd think it would. I looked through Tim's pictures (of me, mostly, and by me I mean Arachnya) and couldn't believe what was very obvious in front of me: I looked fat in my costume. Fat! I clicked through all the pictures that I'd taken of Arachnya (and by taken, I mean had the camera somewhere near me on automatic) and I didn't look fat in any of those. I don't get it. He can take pictures that make Guardian look like a muscular Adonis in a gold and blue suit, but me, his own girlfriend, looks fat?!

"I can't believe this..." I said aloud.

"Can't believe what?" Ms. Adamsen asked. She grabbed a chair and rolled it over beside me. "Oh, those pictures Timmy took of Arachnya yesterday? I don't get it either, she doesn't look that fat in person."

Thank God somebody agrees with me! "I know. I met her, once. Most of the time, I just get her pictures from across the street, or on a rooftop, or something."

Ms. Adamsen patted me on the shoulder. "That's why you're one of the best shutterbugs we've had at the Brigade for years. You and Tim should be proud of yourselves for being so good so young. And thanks to that detective's instinct you've got courtesy of your dad, you're making a pretty damn good reporter, too."

I smiled. "Thanks."

She smiled, too. "Now, get your camera, we're gonna head out trolling for news stories. This city, nothing stays quiet forever."

I grabbed my camera off the corner of my desk and slung it around my neck. Just before we got to the elevator, Timmy stopped me. "Hey, Charlie, can I talk to you?"

Ms. Adamsen nodded. "Keep it short, though, kids. Charlie and I have to get out there and find some stories to throw onto the front page."

"Okay." He turned back to me. "Um... Sorry about everything that happened the other night."

I patted him on the shoulder. "I already told you not to worry about it. My dad said he was sorry, too."

"Can I see you after work?"

I nodded, gave him a smile, then hugged him and slid into the elevator with Ms. Adamsen. I felt pretty lucky to have him.

***

Scott punched whatever was closest to him when he got back to HARP Headquarters, and that just happened to be Wilkins. He was angry. They'd been defeated by a little girl in a ridiculous costume, and their attempt to learn the addresses of the city's freaks had failed. What would they do, now?

Jenkins handed him a phone. "This woman just called us, sir."

Scott took the phone and said, "I don't know who you are or what you want, but if you're calling to tell us that you can help, you're sorely mistaken." Whoever had been on the other side of the conversation quickly hung up, almost as if they'd had the wrong number. Scott let out a noise of disgust, then tossed the phone into his chair. "If somebody can get whoever the hell that was back on the phone, I'll be a very happy man."

Suddenly, Scott felt himself being lifted up off of the floor. He looked around and saw a stunningly gorgeous blonde woman walk into the room, some sort of device in her hands emitting a sort of low-level hum. She was smiling a wide smile. "I'm pretty sure I can help you."

Wilkins and Jenkins both held their sidearms to her head. Scott asked, "One of the freaks, huh?"

She was still smiling. "No. I'm a member of HARP, just like you." She relaxed her grip on whatever the device in her hand was. Scott fell to the floor, landing on his ass. "I decided that if the freaks could have powers, we needed some sort of edge over them." She held up her device. "This device mimics telekinesis. I have another one that creates miniature explosions, and a third that allows the user to walk through walls."

Scott stood up, walked over to the woman and took the device out of her hand. "Interesting. And Management allowed this?"

Her smile widened. "They showed a unique interest in my technological skills. The West Coast branch sent me out here because East City in particular seems to have a large concentration of freaks." She picked up the newspaper that had been laying on Scott's desk. "Plus, there's a movie filming here, celebrating one of the freaks. The very one that took your team down yesterday."

Now it was Scott's turn to smile. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"You can call me Ms. Harmony."

"Very well, Harmony. Welcome to the East City branch of HARP."

***

I yawned a little on the drive through the city. Ms. Adamsen chuckled at me. "Late night with Tim?"

I blushed. "No!" I then wanted to smack myself for sounding the way I did. "I mean... no. I actually didn't see Tim last night. I just... My mom and I have been having problems, so I went to the precinct and slept on my dad's desk. It's not all that comfortable."

"I see. I didn't have a good relationship with my mother, either, but you shouldn't push her away. Some day, she may be all you have to turn to."

I considered that, but I pushed it out of my mind. I hoped there didn't come a day when I didn't have my dad, until, y'know, he was like a hundred and seven and it was really his time to go. I looked out the window and then asked, "So, where are we going, anyway?"

"Oh, you're gonna love this. You read the news the other day about that Arachnya movie being filmed, right?" I simply nodded my head but I really wanted to growl or foam at the mouth. "Well, since the Brigade is East City's premiere newspaper, the best selling newspaper, they've allowed us an exclusive. The producers want you taking lots of pictures, so don't put that camera down until after you've taken a snapshot of every corner of that set."

I nodded again. This was gonna be a long day.

We pulled up to the set and I followed Ms. Adamsen up to the director. He shook hands with her, but ignored me. Gee, you haven't even 'met' me, and you treat me like crap. No wonder Terminator 2 was the only movie you made with a good cast, you must be a dick to everybody.

"Now, Mr. Cameron, why did you choose to film the movie here? Certainly you could have used some of that movie magic to make any other city look like East City."

He laughed. "I know, but I wanted some authenticity to this picture. Arachnya's an East City hero, and I felt the first movie made about him should be filmed in his hometown."

Ms. Adamsen raised an eyebrow. "Um, his? I don't know if you West Coast types know this or not, but Arachnya's female." Maybe now he'll listen, the dick.

"Really? Hmmm..." He turned to his left. "Judy! Get me Avi on the phone, I need to know why everybody's been telling me Arachnya's a guy!" He turned back to us. "I'm sorry. Hopefully we can get this straightened out, and get the film back on schedule."

Ms. Adamsen was smiling now. "I'm a little surprised that you didn't do your research beforehand. You're known for a myriad of fantastic films. Terminator, Titanic, Avatar, The Abyss... Why did you sign on if you didn't know everything there was to know about Arachnya aside from her secret identity." As the sixteen year old girl taking pictures of your movie set.

"Well, in my defense, this project was thrown together at the last second. So, what can you tell me about Arachnya?"

I wandered away to take more pictures, and then I heard an explosion very close by. I ducked out of sight and pulled out my phone. I couldn't exactly just start swinging around to help, but I could call the cops. After being put on hold, I just hung up and called my dad. Of course, I got his voice mail. Great.

I got up from my little hiding place and noticed those three guys from the post office robbery the day before. One of them was using something in his hand to lift a group of people up into the air. Another one was pressing buttons on what looked to be a detonator, making things explode all around the set. The third one wasn't doing anything, simply leading his teammates. I'm pretty sure he's the one I wrassled with, actually.

"Move it, kid!" a female voice behind me said. I turned around and saw a blonde woman phasing into the wall, pushing me toward the growing group of hostages in the center of the set. Great. There I was, big time super hero, and I was stuck in the middle of the set with all the other people.

The guy who's ass I whupped stood in front of us. "It's nice to meet you all. My name is Mr. Scott, and I'm the leader of the East City branch of Humans Against Rising Powers."

"HARP?" I asked, hoping I wasn't giving away my secret identity. Ms. Adamsen elbowed me in the arm.

He walked up to me and pressed the barrel of his gun under my chin. "Yes, HARP. We took this crap from a freak yesterday, the hell I'm going to take it from a little girl!"

I growled. "I'm fifteen, buddy, I'm not a little girl."

He grabbed me by the hair and yanked, hard. Damn, but did that hurt. "You're somebody's little girl, no matter how old you are." He threw me to the ground, about as hard as he yanked my hair. Asshole. I'm a little girl, how could you - Yay, there I go. I just tell him I'm not a little girl, and there I go calling myself a little girl when he throws me to the ground. Good work, Charlie, you're really stupid.

He walked around the group of hostages, still talking. "This filmmaking endeavor is an afront to humankind." He stopped in front of Mr. Cameron. "You're celebrating a monster, an inhuman freak who's only purpose for existing is to flaunt her superiority to humankind."

Ms. Adamsen spoke up. "Arachnya doesn't 'flaunt her superiority'. She's helped a great many people since she showed up."

The closest goon punched Ms. Adamsen in the face, then his boss went on talking. "If she's such a help, where is she?" I'm kneeling on the ground just like everybody else. Asshole. "She's left you, obviously, and isn't likely to return. She sees you as beneath her." No I don't! Okay, maybe those people who budge ahead of me in line at Prism Island, but other than them, I don't see anybody else as beneath me. "If she's such a hero, she'll show up and stop us."

About then, each and every single one of us was surprised to see someone just land beside Mr. Scott and kick him into a wall thirty feet away. There was Seeker, standing there in his wannabe Wolverine costume and domino mask, just completely surprising me. "Arachnya's a little busy doin' something else right now," Seeker said, staring down the other three, "but I'm here to have a little fun with you."

While everyone else's attention was on the stand-off between Seeker and the goons, I snuck off and pulled my mask and gloves on, then slipped my street clothes off of my costume and web-zipped up to the ceiling, where I could, conceivably, have come from out of nowhere. I shot a webline onto the side of one of the fake buildings on the set and swung downward, kicking one of the goons in the face on my way. "Howdy, y'all!" No one said anything. I swear I heard crickets. "What? It ain't easy being funny."

"Heads up!" Seeker shouted. I turned to him and caught the goon he was throwing at me with some webbing, then swung the goon over at the wall opposite their boss. "'Bout time you showed up!"

I tried kicking the blonde woman, but she was using that weird phasing device to stay just out of reach. "I was busy!"

Seeker tried to punch the blonde, but he missed. "Been a while since I saw ya!"

The third goon blew up the spot I was standing on just seconds after I jumped out of the way. "Well, y'know... We've both been busy!"

Goon Three blew up a wall just behind Seeker, but he managed to hold it up, with some strain. "I still make time to see my friends!"

I punched Goon Three and just moved out of the way before the blonde would have kicked me in the face. "I still... Screw you! We agreed it was on even terms!" I webbed the wall Seeker was holding back into place so that he could dodge a few blows from the blonde.

By this time, their boss was back in the fight, shooting off his guns. I dodged the shots, turned to the crowd of hostages and shouted, "You guys might want to leave!" I jumped off of a fake stop sign and landed on a fake flagpole. "Except you, Mr. James Cameron! I think you should take some shots for your crappy movie!"

Seeker finally got a hold of the blonde and threw her at me, so I grabbed her with a webline and left her hanging from the fake flagpole. "They're makin' a movie about you?" he asked.

I stopped their boss in his tracks by webbing his feet to the ground. "Yeah, and they're screwing it all up! They made me a boy!"

Seeker punched their boss in the face, knocking him out cold. "Am I in it?"

I tapped my chin. "Y'know, I'm not sure. I never asked." I turned around and saw Mr. Cameron standing behind a cameraman, the two of them just focused on us. "Are you filming this?!"

Cameron enthusiastically nodded. "Of course we are! What better way to get butts in seats than to have the real Arachnya in your movie? You just saved us millions in post-production costs!"

I smacked my face with my hand, the whole time Seeker was laughing.

***

I met up with Ms. Adamsen after switching back to my street clothes. She hugged me. It was weird. "What did I do?" I asked.

She smacked me lightly on the head. "You had me worried! Where the hell did you go, and did you get pictures?"

I rubbed at the back of my neck. "When everybody started running, I just ducked out of sight. I got scared. I've never been in the middle of a big super hero fight before." That's a lie.

She hugged me again. "Next time, hand that camera to me if you're gonna run off and wet your pants."

I smiled.

***

Harkins looked at the four members of HARP behind his cell bars and sighed. "Twice in as many days? You guys ain't too bright, are ya?"

Scott, the leader of the group, scoffed. "We'll be out of here in a matter of hours, Captain. HARP leadership won't let us stay in here when we're just enforcing our philosophical beliefs."

Harkins tapped the bars. "Unfortunately for you, your philosophical beliefs involve killing innocent people who're just making the best out of a freaky situation forced upon them."

Scott narrowed his eyes. "You seem to know an awful lot about the freaks, Captain."

Harkins shrugged. "I've met a few."

***

Frank met up with me as I walked home from work. "So, how was our first team up after a few weeks of being split up?"

I shrugged. "Well, ya didn't havta argue with me the whole time. We sounded like we were dating."

He smiled. "I seem to remember us dating for a few days back when this whole thing started."

I shook my head. "We never dated. My dad just liked to make jokes about it."

He put his arm around my shoulder. "So, how are things with your photographer boyfriend, anyway?"

I sighed. "I was gonna meet up with him after work, but I couldn't find him. He wanted to talk to me about something, and it sounded important." I looked up at Frank. "Do you feel him anywhere?"

He shook his head. "He's not anywhere in a one-mile radius."

"Oh." I sighed again. "Thanks for showing up at the right moment, Frank. You saved me, too."

He shrugged it off. "Eh, just doin' my job. It's why we were Chosen, right?"

I smiled at him. "Yeah. Yeah, it was."

***

In one of the few normal times I've gone home, I ascended the stairs up to the apartment instead of sneaking in through my window. As I got to our floor, I stopped. The door was open. I looked at my phone, it was six o'clock. Mom and Dad both should be home, so why was the door open? I cautiously walked through the door and found all the lights on. My spider-sense wasn't warning me of anything, so I assumed it was okay to enter the apartment further.

Dad was sitting in his chair, drinking a can of beer that appeared to have come from the six-pack he was cradling in his other arm. After finishing that can, he tossed it at the wall and opened another. I walked in front of him and saw that his eyes were a very deep red.

"Dad?" I asked, cautiously.

He broke down, started crying, dropped all his beer cans to the floor and just openly sobbed in front of me. He didn't say a word, he just cried.

I looked around and saw a paper on the dining room table, my mom's handwriting all over it. I picked it up and read it and then I was crying. I fell to my knees and crumpled up the paper. I understood why my dad had left the door open after he got home with his beer.

***

Tim didn't know what to say to her. He held up one of the pictures he'd taken of Arachnya and the picture he'd secretly taken of Charlie the day they'd met and just couldn't figure out a way to talk to her. He couldn't just come out and say, "I know your secret." He had to find a way to do it right.

He sighed. C'mon, man! Just tell her that you know! It can't be a bad thing! 'Hey, Charlie, I understand, you're a webslinging crime fighter, that's cool', but no, I can't say that to her, because I'm a big frickin' pussy! He sighed again, then heard a knock on his door. "Yeah, just a second!" He slipped his photos back into the folder that he had lying on his desk, then got up from his chair and walked over to his bedroom door. Charlie didn't even wait for it to open up all the way before she latched onto him and buried her face in his chest. He put his arms around her and asked, "What happened?"

She didn't answer for a while. He just held her, she just cried. When she finally did answer, her words depressed him: "My mom left us... Because of me..." He just held her closer.