Disclaimer: I do not own Spider-Man, its plot or any of its respective characters (despite how much I wish I did), as well as the concept of Spider-Girl. All rights go to Marvel, Stan Lee and Columbia Pictures. I do own my OCs and would rather not have some one steal them.

Chapter Two

"You okay sweet heart?" Jake questioned as the two stood in front of Ashely's first class.

"Don't worry." She shook her head a little, a small smile on her face. "I'm fine." Jake stared at her for a moment before nodding and walking off. Quickly taking her seat, she winced a little. She had mostly told the truth. For the most part, she was fine. Her butt and perhaps back would be sore for a few days, and there might be a few bruises, but that was it.

Just before class started, she saw Peter slink in. For the first bit of class he sat hunched over, and looked to be in just a little bit of pain. God, I hope he's okay. She thought to herself, periodically looking over her shoulder. Eventually, she gave up and spoke to him.

"I thought that's was pretty great," She said quietly. "What you did." Peter, he had just had his head in his arms, looked up at her. The expression on his face was a little surprised. "It was by far stupid." She continued. "But it was great." There was a small smile on her lips as she said this.

Peter, however, just nodded slowly. He seemed a little dazed to Ashely.

"You should probably go to the nurse." She offered, not wanting him to be hurt. "You might have gotten a concussion." Again, Peter just looked at her with a dazed look. She smiled again, trying to keep the blush from appearing on her cheeks. "What's your name?"

That question certainly caught him off guard. How could she not know his name? It made his heart sink just a little.

"You don't know my name?" Shaking her head and pushing her glasses up on her nose, Ashely laughed lightly.

"No, I know your name." Smiling, she gave him a soft look. "I just want to know if you know your name." That's still a weird thing to ask. Peter thought to himself, but answered.

"Peter." It seemed like it took him a minute to remember it. When he didn't continue, Ashely gestured for him to say more. "Parker. Peter Parker." When he finished, she grinned at him.

"Okay. Good." She turned back to the board to see what the teacher was writing. When she did, Peter continued to look at her. He remembered her from in other grades. She also lived across the street from him for a while. He had even seen her in most of his classes too. Despite this, he never got to actually know her.

Suddenly, she turned around again.

"I'd still go see the nurse though." The was a concerned look on her face as she said this.

"You're Ashely, right?" He finally asked. She simply nodded.

"Ashely Price." As she did, the little bit of blush made its way onto her cheeks. She turned her head quickly, hoping that Peter hadn't seen it.

"All right." Peter couldn't help but grin. He had seen it, and thought it looked rather cute on her.

"Dad? You back yet?" Ashely called out when she got home. No answer came, causing her to sigh. Great, he's working late. Throwing her bag on the ground, she kicked off her shoes and went into the kitchen. If her dad was working late tonight, that meant she'd be home by herself.

Opening the fridge, she looked around for leftovers. Thankfully, she was able to find some.

"Well," Grabbing a plate with left over pizza, she went to the living room and sat down in front of the TV. "Guess it's gonna be one of those nights.

"Hey." Peter said, walking into the kitchen as he got home.

"I'm making spaghetti and meatballs tonight." His Aunt May said, chopping vegetables in the middle of the kitchen. May Parker had long grey hair and soft eyes. She was probably the nicest person any one could meet.

"You serious?" Peter questioned, raising an eye brow. "Spaghetti and meatballs." There was an almost unbelievable tone to his voice.

"Since when don't you like spaghetti and meatballs, huh?" She questioned, glancing at her nephew as he got some things out of the fridge. When she did, she saw a large mark on the side of his face. "Oh, my God."

"What's up?" The brown haired boy questioned, trying to play dumb. In reality, he knew it was from when Flash had punched him. Ashely was right. He really should have gone to see the nurse.

"What happened to your face?" Aunt May asked, worried for him. She had never usually sees marks like that on him.

"Oh, I'm all right." He waved it off, jumping up to sit on the counter. "I fell, skating." The lie came out easily. He had been practicing it all the way home. "It's all right."

May just gave him an exhausted look. Like she was down right sick of her nephew's mode of transportation. Though her frustration was soon directed else where. More specifically to her husband. He had just walked in to the kitchen, a soaking wet box in his hands. It was filled with trophies.

Like his wife, he had light grey hair, wore glasses and had many wrinkles on his face.

"Ben Parker," May scolded. "Don't you even think about leaving that filthy box in my kitchen." She scowled at it in disgust as he set it down by her cutting board.

"These are my bowling trophies." He said simply, like that would explain for itself. Some days, he acted very much like the teenager his nephew was, as apposed to the adult he was suppose to be.

"Oh, well, then, by all means," May rolled her eyes. "Please leave that filthy box in my kitchen." During the whole exchange, Peter sat there smirking as he drank his juice. Some times, it was rather amusing to watch their exchanges.

Ben noticed this, and decided to direct attention back to his nephew.

"What happened to you?" He asked.

"He fell." May answered for him. "Why you kids ride those things, I'll never know."

"Ashely rides them too." Peter tried in an almost last ditch attempt to get the attention off him. It didn't work so well.

"I won't under stand why she rides them either."

"Because it's stupid and dangerous." Ben stated, a small smirk on his lips. "Remember when we were stupid and dangerous?" He gave his wife a knowing look, who glared at him.

"No."

"Trust me, we were." He smiled mischievously, clearly remembering some funny memories.

"All right." Peter smirked. "Good to know." He watched as his uncle moved the box to a corner of the kitchen, and noticed he was bare foot, his pants rolled up. There was also water all around him. "Where's the flood?"

"Follow me." Be responded, walking away and towards the basement. "I'll show you."

"You serious?"

"Yes."

"All right." Peter sighed, jumping down from the counter. He didn't really want to know where it was, but knew better than to ignore his uncle.

"I think it's the condenser tray." Ben stated, him and his nephew looking at the piping under the house. Peter, how ever, did not think the same as his uncle.

"No, there's too much water for the condenser tray or the heat exchange tubing." He had his arms crossed, and held a box in his hand. "This had got to be the fill line."

"That's the only thing that makes any sense." Ben held up his hands in a way as if to say he gave up. Clearly he didn't understand much of what his nephew said. "Can you fix it?"

"No, not tonight." Peter shook his head. "I'll go by the hardware store tomorrow." Ben nodded.

"Good deal. And meanwhile," He tossed a steak up to him. "Put this on your face." Sighing, Peter nodded and placed the raw meat on his cheek. It stung a little, but shortly started to feel better.

"How's the other guy look?" Ben continued, starting to pack a couple of things in boxes. His nephew simply gave his uncle a confused look. How could he tell that he had been in a fight. "Come one." Ben rolled his eyes lightly. "I know a right cross when I see one." Grabbing a couple things, he filled a box.

"Yes or no? Do I have to call somebody's father?" Not looking up, Peter shook his head at the question. The last thing he -or Ashely, seeing as Flash looked like he would have hit her too- was for his uncle to get involved.

"No, no."

"All right." Ben sighed, not entirely believing him. "Well, I wouldn't tell you Aunt May. I pity the poor kid who'd have to suffer her wrath." Both males laughed. That was an understatement. Sure, May was a nice and caring woman. But when she was made about something, there would be hell to pay.

"Before you come up," Uncle Ben continued, picking up his box. "See if there's anything else worth saving."

"Okay." Peter mumbled, finishing with his own box. He then proceeded to pull out a couple more boxes. After removing one, he saw a familiar brief case. Picking it up, he began to study it.

It was made of faded brown leather, and had a gold clasp holding it shut. Right above the clasp were two letter's embroidered in it. 'RP'. For 'Richard Parker'. Peter's dad.

Ashely had watched about three half hour shows and was part way through another when her dad got home. The door opened and closed with a quite slam, and she got up. Standing in the door way, taking off his gun, was Arthur Price.

"Hey Dad." She smiled, walking up and giving him a hug.

"Hey sweetie." Arthur Price looked very much like his daughter. He had blonde hair and goatee, and greyish blue eyes. He was still wearing his police uniform, and had a tired look in his face.

"How was work?" She asked, pulling away and heading into the kitchen. Of the left over pizza she had for dinner, she saved two pieces for him.

"Long." Was his response. Sitting down at the stool they had put by the island counter, he watched his daughter go about the kitchen.

To him, she looked so much like her mother. Sure, she had his eye and hair color but her features were so much like Jennifer's. The small nose and ears, dazzling smile. Every time he looked at her, he couldn't help but see the woman he had fallen in love with years before their daughter was born. Oh how he missed her.

Turning around, Ashely caught the look in her dad's eyes. She had seen it every now and then, when he thought about her mom.

"Dad." She spoke softly, walking over to him. "I miss her too." The two of them shared another hug, but this time longer.

Jennifer Price, Ashely's mother, had died in a car accident eleven years ago. She was driving home from a girls night with some of her friends, when a drunk driver crashed head on with her. The cruel reality was that while she had died on impact, the drunk had fled the scene on foot. No one ever found him.

Arthur had worked for months to catch the person responsible for his wife's death. After a while, he gave up and requested a transfer to NYPD. They moved to they house they were in and had lived there since.

Pulling back, Arthur smiled at his daughter.

"So, what's on?" Grinning, she grabbed the plate she had put the pizza on and handed it to him.

"America's Funniest Home Videos. We're not even half way through!"

Peter sat upstairs in his room, the contents of his dad's brief case in front of him. The glasses he had found now rested on his nose, his contacts now out. There was a calculator, some pens, some coins, an access card and a newspaper clipping.

Picking up the access card, Peter looked at it for a while. On it was a picture of his dad. He hardly looked any different since the last day he had seen him alive.

Putting it down, he picked up the brief case. It felt as if it still had something in it, but he was sure he had already pulled everything out of it. Tilting it from side to side, however, proved differently. There was the sound of papers falling to one side.

Opening the bag up again, Peter felt around for a hidden compartment. After a couple minutes, he checked the back pocket and found a part that had velcro to hold it closed. Running his finger through it, he managed to open it. Inside, was a file.

Quickly closing his door, Peter pressed something that locked it before opening the file. Inside was tons of equations and mathematical problems. One was circled.

"What is this?" Peter asked to no one. He ended up reading it aloud to himself. "Zero, zero, decay rate algorithm." Just as he finished reading, there was a knock in his bedroom door.

"Yeah, one sec, one sec." He called, hiding the file and messing up all the things on the floor. He then hopped up to his computer and made it look like he was playing on it before unlocking the door. "Come in."

Uncle Ben opened the door, to see his nephew sitting at his desk.

"You okay?" He questioned, wondering why it took so long to open the door.

"Yeah, what's up?"

"Oh my god." The older man gasped, seeing his brother's glasses on his face. "You look just like him." He gave a soft smile. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah." Peter nodded, pursing his lips a little. Stepping into the room, Ben closed the door so he could talk to his nephew with our May hearing.

"Listen, um," He picked up a rubrics cube as he sat down on the bed. "I don't have much education. You know that, Peter." He laughed to him self a little. "Hell, I stopped being able to help with your homework when you were 10." Peter just looked at his uncle, wondering where this was going.

"What I'm trying to say is," Ben sighed, trying to come up with the right words. "I know it's been rough for you without your dad." Peter nodded a little, looking down. Now he felt bad for his little outburst he had before dinner, when he had found the bag. "And I know we don't talk much about them."

"Yeah, it's all right." The teenage boy shrugged, not really wanting to talk about it now.

"No, it is not all right." Uncle Ben shook his head, knowing he had to at least say this. "I wish I could change it, but I can't." Glancing down at the newspaper clipping, he answered Peter's question from earlier. "Curt Connors. That's the name of the guy in the picture with your dad." He explained. "They worked together for years and they were close.

"But after that night, we never saw him again." Ben looked to the side a little, not wanting to remember the night his brother died. "He never even called. Not once." Slowly Peter nodded, glad to know who was in the picture with his dad. "Go figure."

Looking down at his hands, Ben sighed. Looking up again, he saw the picture Peter had set as screen saver. "She's pretty." Turning around, Peter looked at it too.

It was the picture of the school science club. Standing in the center of it was a girl with long blonde hair pulled back into a bun with greyish blue eyes that hid behind a pair of glasses. She wore a cardigan, and had a large smile on his face.

"Yeah." Blushing faintly, Peter nodded. "That's actually Ashely." Hearing that, Ben's eye brows raised slightly, but he smiled.

"Really? She's sure grown up into a beautiful young woman." Standing up, he put the rubrics cube back down and opened the door to his nephew's room.

"Uncle Ben." Peter said, stopping him.

"What?"

"You're a pretty great dad." He smiled a little as he said it, hoping to make his uncle feel better. When he had left the room, he turned to the computer.

His fingers flew across the key board as he typed different things into the search engine. Articles began to pop up, all of them related to either his dad, or Curt Connors. There were things on scientific theories and breakthroughs, as well as the plan crash that killed his parents.

After looking for a little longer, he came across one thing that sparked his interest. OSCORP was offering internships under Dr. Curt Connors. Tours were tomorrow. Nodding to himself, Peter made a decision. He was going to try and meet with the man that knew his father. Maybe then he would get some answers as to what he was working on.