(a/n: please ignore how, in my "author's note" for the last chapter, i would be skipping to november! most of the first movie takes place in june and july after all! so i hope that's okay!)

One Month Later
June 30th, 2002

"'Who is Spider-Man?' He's a criminal, that's who he is!"

Christina sighed harshly to herself as her boss threw the newly published newspaper down on the desk in front of him. She had been through this rodeo with him for the past week and their arguments had grown so severe that she had considered quitting on the spot at one point, but one of her co-workers, Betty Brant, had advised her to keep the job. "It'll help you raise money for college," she had said. And she was right. So, begrudgingly, the blonde had stayed at her new version of hell; and boy, was this worse than high school.

"A vigilante, a public menace!" Christina's boss shouted through the cigar he had in his mouth, and the smoke emanating from it nearly made the blonde cough. "What's he doing on my front page?!"

J. Jonah Jameson was one of the people Christina disliked the most in New York City. His enlarged ego drove her insane to the point that she would end up snapping at him from time to time. Still, he hadn't fired her yet, much to her ever so slight relief. He was close to her mother's age, around forty-six to forty-seven, and it seemed as though his age had caught up to him unlike others on Earth since his mostly dark brown hair was starting to be overwhelmed by the huge streaks of gray surrounding it. To top that off, he had the strangest-looking mustache Christina had ever seen, and it reminded her of Mario from the dozens of Super Mario games from the past twenty years.

Just as Christina was about to speak, an ear-piercing buzzing sound came from Jameson's telephone and he immediately clicked the Receptionist button next to the receiver and took a listen.

"Mr. Jameson, your wife is on Line One," Betty Brant spoke up in her regular polite tone, "she needs to know if you—" She didn't even get to finish when Jameson picked up the receiver and placed it back down, ending the call.

Another one of Christina's co-workers, Ted Hoffman — known for his hyper and upbeat personality — walked into the office looking somewhat frantic. "Mr. Jameson," he greeted his boss in a slightly panicky tone, "there's a page six problem."

"We have a page one problem, shut up!" Jameson fired back with a snarky glare in Hoffman's direction, immediately causing the younger man to back out of the office. He then glanced back at Christina and another person standing next to her, Robbie Robertson. "Well?" he encouraged them to speak, but he seemed sarcastic about it.

"He's news!" both Christina and Robbie spoke up loudly, the former trying to be more dramatic because she was honestly tired of this bullshit.

Robbie Robertson was one of the older employees at the Daily Bugle, even being older than Jameson and getting closer to his early fifties, his hair already gray from what seemed to be stress from his job. It made Christina not only feel sympathy for him but also dread her future days if she were to work for Jameson for the rest of her life. She could picture her blonde hair turning white from the irritation finally catching up to her.

Before either of them could continue, Hoffman peeked his head back around the doorway, pointing out of the office as a gesture. "Th-They're really important clients," he told his boss exasperatedly. "They can't wait."

"They're about to," Jameson snapped back, sighing quietly to himself.

"Listen, Mr. Jameson," Christina began in a pleading tone. "There may not be enough evidence, but he's saved countless people. Yesterday, I witnessed him preventing a convenience store robbery, for Heaven's sake!"

"Yeah, I'm with Christina here," Robbie said in an agreeing tone, pointing towards the photo printed on the front page of the newspaper that had been thrown on the desk. "He pulled six people off that subway car."

Over the past few weeks, countless citizens — Christina included — had been catching glimpses of a figure around New York City, but not very well. It seemed as though it was yet another vigilante causing trouble for a little while but, once people started spreading rumors of him saving people around the city, she had slowly begun to believe that whoever this person was really was a good person just trying to spread some virtue to everyone. And, while she still wasn't completely on board with that thought, she still thought it would be decent of herself to defend him.

"Sure, from a wreck he probably caused," Jameson said, breaking Christina out of her thoughts. "Something goes wrong and this creepy-crawler is there. Look at that." He also jutted a finger towards the newspaper's picture, displaying a very tiny silhouette of the person swinging away on a web. "He's fleeing the scene! What's that tell you?!"

Christina could blatantly hear Robbie sighing heavily to her right, and she honestly wanted to do the same. "He's not fleeing, he's probably going to save somebody else," he emphasized, now picking up the newspaper.

A loud knock then sounded from the semi-glass window that looked out into the room full of cubicles where Christina normally worked. She glanced over and spotted Betty gesturing to Jameson with her index finger up, and she could tell what she was saying despite not hearing her: "Call on Line One!"

Immediately, Jameson made a gesture back at her while mouthing one quick sentence in return: "Hang up the phone!"

"He's a hero!" Robbie finished in a loud shout, now shaking the paper in his boss's face.

"Then why does he wear a mask?" Jameson questioned, glancing back and forth between them. "Hmm? What's he got to hide?"

Although that was a good question, Christina couldn't help but let her shoulders sag in slight defeat. "Oh, I don't know," she replied sardonically, tilting her head. "Maybe... because he doesn't want personal attention?"

Jameson narrowed his eyes at the blonde and he raised his hand to make another good point — at least, in his opinion — but, right then, Betty rushed into the office with her right hand grasping a coffee mug.

"She just needs to know if you want the chintz or the chenille in the dining room," she said in an annoyed tone, practically slamming the mug down on Jameson's desk and almost breaking it.

"Whichever one's cheaper," Jameson replied simply, lightly shooing her away from his desk.

Christina immediately brought her attention back to the topic at hand, gently placing her hands on the desk and her straightened hair so close to blocking her line of vision. "Look, as I was saying, maybe he doesn't want a lot of personal attention. That might be why he always wears a mask. He's probably just a private guy with a private lifestyle."

Jameson sighed as he rubbed his temple, getting pretty irritated with the young woman that he practically couldn't stand being around. But he had chosen to hire her, after all, and he couldn't just fire her because he needed the amount of employees he had at the moment. He couldn't deny the soft spot he had for the kid regardless of this, as she reminded him of his own children. "Johnson," he began, semi-glaring up at her. "You know that's just one of several possibilities, right? So he could be hiding his face for another reason... maybe because he doesn't want to personally be caught in the act."

Christina's nostrils flared at that last part; if there was anything she truly despised, it was being mocked by literally anyone. But, before she could make his mimic of her backfire in his face, Hoffman had entered the office again and she sighed quietly.

"Mr. Jameson, it's like this," Hoffman said, trying his best to sound serious despite his hyper personality. "We double-booked page six. See, so Macy's and Conway's both have three-quarters of the same page."

"We sold out four printings."

Both Christina and Jameson simultaneously swerved their heads in Robbie's direction as he had picked up the newspaper once more, amazement in both pairs of eyes.

"Sold out?" Jameson repeated in a shocked manner, his eyebrows raised.

"Are you serious?" Christina asked Robbie as she even glanced at the paper, a smile growing on her face.

"Every copy," Robbie said as he also smiled a bit, lightly shaking the paper.

Jameson's face immediately changed as his tone transformed to one of slightly more focus than before. "Tomorrow morning, Spider-Man, page one with a decent picture this time," he instructed with wide eyes, before moving his gaze back to Hoffman and pointing at him. "Move Conway to page seven," he added in a demanding tone.

"There's a problem at page seven," Hoffman stated awkwardly.

"Then make it page eight and give 'em ten percent off," Jameson said instantly but he changed his mind half a second later. "Nah, make it five percent."

"That can't be done."

"Get outta here!" shouted Jameson as he slightly rose up in his chair, and Hoffman retreated faster than humanly possible.

"The problem is that we don't have a decent picture," Robbie explained in a tone that implied that he was somewhat let down by this news. "Eddie's been on it for weeks, we can barely get a glimpse of him."

Christina nodded to herself before turning to look at Jameson, her expression much softer now. "He's right, you know? Even I tried but he's always so far away and I can hardly see him."

Jameson gave off a fake pout as he now held his cigar in his right hand. "Aw, what, is he shy?" he asked them in a tone of mock sadness. "If we can get a picture of Julia Roberts in a thong, we can certainly get a picture of this weirdo." Ignoring Christina's glare of disgust at those words, he stood up and faced the large glass windows that extended from the floor to the ceiling. "Put an ad on the front page: 'Cash money for a picture of Spider-Man,'" he ordered them before slowly turning around. "He doesn't want to be famous?" Stuffing his cigar back in his mouth, he placed both of his hands on his hips. "Then I'll make him infamous!"

The telephone then buzzed extremely loudly once more, cutting off what he was going to say next and everyone jumped at the same time. Christina then leaned over to see the Caller ID on the small digital screen before glancing at Jameson and smirking.

"That's your wife," she told him promptly, smiling teasingly. "Might wanna answer it before she kills you, Jonah."

With that, the confident blonde snatched the newspaper back up and walked out of the office, feeling as though she had sort of won her first argument with the head of the Daily Bugle.

_____

Four hours after her argument with her boss, Christina left the building she worked at and got into her Volkswagen to drive away from there for the day. She had the radio on medium volume and she was listening to Red Right Hand by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds while the car moved forward. She couldn't forget to stop by the grocery store to buy ingredients to help Margaret cook lasagna later tonight, so she had that on her immediate agenda.

Pulling up to Westside Market, she quickly got out of her car and walked inside the store, adjusting the white jacket she wore over her professional black jumpsuit. Despite it being late June, it could still get chilly every now and then, and it was only in the early sixties outside; that sucked since it was close to the middle of the summer at the time but Christina didn't mind it sometimes. In fact, the air was crisp and cool in a way that she liked, which was a relief. At least she wouldn't sweat up a storm while walking around downtown Manhattan.

Going through the aisles of the small grocery store with a cart, Christina scanned the shelves and found some sodas, snacks, and coffee pods for Margaret's coffee-maker at their house. She wasn't entirely alone in the store, but that didn't stop her paranoia from slowly creeping up on her because she knew that New York City wasn't the safest place to be on her own in. But, in case anyone with not-so-good intentions were to come up from behind her, she had her pepper spray ready.

Luckily for her, nobody even attempted to grab a hold of her and she was able to shop peacefully.

After a little while, she managed to find the lasagna ingredients towards the back and she went to the front to check out her items. The cashier was polite to her, which was a rarity in Manhattan, so she decided to be nice in return and tip the cashier even though she knew it wasn't that common. The lady that had checked out her items was really overjoyed at this and she thanked the blonde, which made Christina smile, glad that she had made someone's day.

She then made her way out of the automatic doors, two grocery bags in her hands as she walked towards her car. A gust of wind made her hair blow about and in front of her face, which made her trip to the vehicle more of a struggle. Despite this, she made it, unlocking the driver's side door and she began to put the grocery bags in the passenger seat.

"Christina!"

Almost instantly, regardless of the voice saying her name, the blonde spun around, her pepper spray gripped in her left hand. "Don't even think about grabbing me!" she yelled defensively, seconds away from pressing the button that would release the spray on her possible attacker.

"No, Chris, it's me, Peter!" the person in front of her said in a slight panic, raising his hands in order to try and shield his face. Luckily for Peter, Christina realized who he was the moment he said it and she immediately put the pepper spray away in her pocket.

"Oh, Pete!" she replied, sighing with utter relief. "Oh, I'm so sorry. You just scared me, that's all..."

"Sorry about that," Peter said with a small chuckle. "I just saw you going to your car and came over to say hi." He then saw that she still had a grocery bag in her right hand and extended a hand out. "You need some help?"

Christina squinted her eyes out of confusion before his question dawned on her. "Oh, no, thank you," she responded politely. "I got it, don't worry.... How are you?"

Peter shrugged his shoulders in reply, sighing a little to himself. "I'm doing alright, I guess," he mumbled, but Christina was able to hear him. "I've been going around the city all day, I'm begging for a job. How about you? How've you been?"

Christina casually smiled as she straightened her posture ever so slightly. "I'm doing well, actually," she replied truthfully. "Well, sort of. I just got out of work. My boss is absolutely insane, so I'm glad to be going home."

"At least you have a job," Peter replied jokingly as he laughed a little. "But I'm glad you're doing well..." He then briefly examined her outfit before looking back up at her. "You look really nice," he added in a compliment, smiling at her.

The blonde smiled bashfully and her face became a light shade of pink. "Oh, this? This is nothing," she said sheepishly with a giggle leaving her lips. "This is just my work outfit. But thank you, anyway."

Peter's small smile turned into a grin at the sound of Christina's giggle, just happy that she sounded cheerful. But he decided to change the subject before it got too awkward and he could become a blushing mess. "Um, have you moved into your apartment yet?" he asked her curiously.

Christina frowned slightly as she shook her head. "No, I haven't," she answered him, crossing her arms to fight a particularly chilly breeze headed their way. "I decided to stay home with Mom for a little while longer before moving into the place. What about you?"

"Harry and I moved into our place about two weeks ago," Peter explained with a relieved smile. "It has two floors so it has enough room for all of our stuff. You're welcome to stop by whenever you can," he offered thoughtfully.

Christina slowly nodded her head as she smiled at the idea. "I'll be sure to do that," she said in reply before turning around to finish putting her groceries in the car. Turning back to Peter, an idea hit her. "I'm helping Mom make lasagna tonight," she told him with a huge smile. "Do you wanna come over and have dinner with us?"

Peter's face brightened for half a second and he almost nodded but he then shook his head, his smile turning into a disappointed frown. "I'd love to, but I can't," he told her with a sad sigh, his shoulders sagging slightly.

"Are you sure?" Christina asked Peter with raised eyebrows, kind of heartbroken that he couldn't make it to dinner.

"Yeah, I'm sure," Peter said. "I need to find a job and I kind of want to get it over with today. Don't want it to take forever, you know?"

Christina reluctantly nodded as she smiled sadly, briefly placing a hand on Peter's arm to offer sympathy. Not knowing how much her touch gave him dozens of butterflies in his stomach, she drew her arm back after a few seconds. "That's okay," she replied. "I understand. Maybe next time."

After a few seconds of awkward silence, Christina then glanced at her watch that rested on her right wrist and her face fell, especially since she wanted to stay here and talk to Peter. "I hate to leave," she told him. "But I gotta get home and help Mom with dinner. It was nice to talk to you, though, Pete. We should hang out sometime, whenever you want."

Peter nodded for a short moment before slightly stepping closer to her in order to offer a suggestion. "Would you maybe want to go see a movie sometime?" he asked her gently.

The young woman turned back from her car to face him, a reflective smile on her face. "Sure, I'd like that," she said happily, fully looking at her best friend at this point. "Maybe one of us could call the other to arrange it. It'll probably be a few weeks before I can make it happen... work and all."

The young man in front of Christina nodded his head as he lightly shrugged. "That's understandable, don't worry," he told her. "I'll call you sometime this week and we'll see whenever we're both free."

Christina grinned, the smile reaching her eyes as she nodded. "That sounds great," she said. "I hope you have a good day, Pete."

Peter's eyes lit up at what Christina said, joyful that she had always cared about him; he then stepped forward to hug her. "Yeah, you too," he replied with a smile. "Be safe, okay, Chris?"

"You too, Peter..." Christina mumbled, hugging him back.

Peter and Christina then parted ways with grins planted on both of their faces... but each for different reasons.

_____

"Mom, I'm home!" Christina shouted as she walked through the front door, carrying the grocery bags in both of her hands.

"I'm in the kitchen!" Margaret yelled back and Christina could hear the sink in the room in question running water, which made her assume that her mother was washing her hands.

So, knowing this, she walked into the kitchen and placed the bags on the table, going over to one of the upper cabinets to get two plates for the both of them when dinner was finally served later. She placed them on the counter before removing her jacket and hanging it on the back of one of the chairs.

"How was work, honey?" Margaret asked her daughter gently, turning off the sink faucet and drying her hands on a nearby towel, her long brown hair tied up into a bun.

"Uh... it was work," Christina replied with a sigh, walking over and giving her mother a casual one-armed hug like she always did.

"Did Jameson yell at you again?" Margaret added as she glanced over at her daughter, not ignoring the slight hesitation in her vibrant blue eyes.

"Well... more like I did the yelling," the younger woman said with a shy smile, looking down for a second. "I stood up for myself...."

Margaret's face lit up as she grinned before pointing at Christina. "Okay, one, I hope he doesn't fire you," she began. "Two, I'm glad you finally stood up to him and let him know that he shouldn't be so rude to you. And three, what did you yell at him about?"

"Oh, nothing much," Christina replied nonchalantly. "About me wanting a pay raise... defending Spider-Man...." She then went over to get a water bottle out of the refrigerator as though she hadn't said that.

The middle-aged woman perked up at this bit of information and she fully turned to face her daughter with an expression of curiosity in her pale blue eyes. "And why were you defending Spider-Man exactly?" she cautiously asked her despite fighting back a smirk.

The blonde turned to face Margaret with a look of confusion directed towards her, the water bottle now in her hand. "For obvious reasons, of course," she answered simply. "Jameson has been too harsh on Spider-Man, always jumping to conclusions every time that man saves someone in the city. So I told him off and made him know that maybe Spider-Man's intentions are good and that he's wrong!"

Margaret squinted her eyes ever so slightly as she tilted her head at Christina's answer. "You sure you didn't defend him for other reasons, Chris?" she asked curiously.

Christina raised an eyebrow. "Come again, Mother?" she replied.

"I'm saying... are you sure there isn't... possibly... another reason you were defending the hero...?" Margaret subtly fired back, the smirk now on her face.

The blonde scoffed lightly at the way her mother had asked that question before shaking her head. "Mom, what are you talking about?" she said. "There couldn't possibly—" She then abruptly paused as the realization finally hit her, and she instantly started shaking her head faster, her eyes wide. "Mom, no!"

"What?!" Margaret shouted back innocently, battling the grin that was forming on her face.

"Mom, I do not have a crush on Spider-Man!" Christina yelled.

"Aha!" Margaret replied, pointing at her daughter teasingly. "Your words, not mine!"

"I don't have a crush on him, though!" Christina said while giggling hysterically. "You have no clue how old that man could be, he could be forty, for crying out loud!"

"Hey, I'm just saying!" Margaret responded, raising her hands mock defensively. "You have been defending him quite a bit lately..."

"Only because it's the right thing to do! Besides, even if I did have a crush on him, I would be one of thousands of girls that felt the same way. And he wouldn't even feel the same for me, so it wouldn't matter."

Margaret sneakily lowered her head, grinning now as she fiddled with her hands. "I know someone who might feel the same way for you..." she mumbled, implying someone that she knew was a big part of her daughter's life.

"Huh?" Christina replied, confused.

"Nothing!" her mother said way too quickly for either of their liking, placing her hands behind her back and smiling innocently again.

Christina narrowed her eyes towards her mother out of suspicion as to what she said but, not wanting to push Margaret's buttons further, she decided to let it go. "I'm gonna go put the rest of my stuff away," she told her, turning towards the stairs.

Reaching her bedroom and tossing her purse onto her bed, she went over to her small walk-in closet in order to pick out possible pajamas for later that night. After a few seconds, she picked out a pair of light gray nightclothes that she could sleep in and she set them out for later. She then removed her slip-on shoes and placed them on the closet floor.

The landline on her nightstand ringing loudly somewhat startled Christina and she straightened her posture as she looked at the telephone. She was pretty surprised that she was getting a phone call — possibly from Peter — this soon, but she didn't mind it. A phone call from him always seemed to brighten her day, which was kind of a shock to her. Ignoring this, she walked over to the bed and sat down before grabbing the receiver and placing it to her left ear.

"Johnson residence," she greeted kindly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Hey, Chris, how're you doing?" came Harry's voice from the other end of the phone.

This came as a surprise to Christina; Harry almost never called her, he always just came over to her house. He only called her if it was ever anything important or serious.

"Hey, Harry," she replied in a perplexed voice, feeling ultimately confused at the moment. "I'm doing okay. How are you?"

"I'm doing alright, I guess," Harry replied with a slight sigh. "I was just calling to ask you something, if that's okay with you."

Christina was about to talk but she then faltered for just a few seconds, since she was really puzzled at this. It was rare of Harry to ask her anything whatsoever, since he never wanted to be a burden on her, so it was always her asking him for something, even if it was something minor.

"Uh, sure, you can ask me whatever," she said semi-cautiously, kind of anxious as to what it would be. "What's up?"

A few moments passed, where there was almost pure silence and it kind of made Christina feel uneasy. A small part of her had a bad sensation in her heart as to what he would say, so she kept herself prepared.

"Um... would you mind accompanying me and Mary Jane to the World Unity Festival in Times Square next month?" Harry asked her awkwardly, seemingly sounding very sheepish on the other end of the phone.

Christina almost instantly sighed with relief at the question, not even knowing why she had felt uneasy to begin with. Harry Osborn was harmless, after all, he wasn't capable of causing the woman any harm... or, hell, any harm to anyone.

"Oh, yeah, of course," she answered with a smile. "Of course I'll accompany you two there... Wait— You and Mary Jane?" she added out of utter confusion.

There was a long moment of stillness on the other end of the phone, in which Christina was ready to spout a whole bunch of questions if Harry didn't answer her quickly.

Luckily, after three and a half seconds, he finally said something:

"Yeah, I forgot to tell you... M.J. and I are dating. We've been together for three weeks now...."

A/N: so we got chapter nine sooner than we all thought! this is more of a filler chapter than anything but J. Jonah Jameson plays a minor role in it!

also spider-man is officially in the picture! sort of... finally!

question: is it bad that some scenes are taken directly from the movie but christina are in them? let me know!

what are your predictions for the next chapter?! hint: it's gonna be fucking wild!

we are close to the midpoint of part one, so we're halfway done with it!

be looking forward to chapter ten! again, it's gonna be crazy!

-denbroughswife