Peter decided he did not like big parties. As he made his way through throngs of fancily-dressed individuals, he took out his phone to try and call her.

"Hello? MJ?"

Peter was met only with the message machine. He'd heard that blasted machine too many times. Peter angrily put his phone away and got back to the task at hand. J. Jonah Jameson was a notoriously tight-fisted individual, so when he decided to co-host a massive charity event with Wayne Enterprises, it was pretty big news, especially for ironically, the employees of the Daily Bugle (like Peter for instance) Jameson had brought Peter with him as his photographer for the event, along with at least half of the Daily Bugle's employees. As it was, Peter really wasn't interested in parties at the moment. Ever since his falling out with MJ he'd been trying to get on the phone with her and make amends, but it hadn't been going too well. Peter was beginning to get the gut feeling that she didn't want to talk.
Peter sighed and smacked himself on the forehead, more out of habit then because he actually forgot something. He didn't know what to do with himself

"I could always drown my misery in punch..." Peter thought.

As he went to get some, he was briefly shaken out of his thoughts by a familiar-sounding voice. It had it's usual seductive tone.

"Hi Peter"

Peter turned and found himself staring at an extremely attractive woman in a red dress. Her hair was white, but not with age, it was her natural color, and her eyes where emerald green. Peter would recognize this woman anywhere, but he wasn't exactly in the mood to talk.

"Hello Felicia."

She walked right up to Peter without any kind of subtlety. She already knew what was on his mind.

"Problems with the red-head?"

Peter felt like asking how she could possibly know that but instead he just nodded his head glumly. Desperate to get off the topic as quickly and efficiently as possible, he took a brief, curious look at Felicia's dress

"Red?"
Felicia moved a little closer to him, a bit too close for Peter's liking, and said, almost in a whisper

"In case something happens and I need to...change, I wouldn't want anyone getting too suspicious."

"Felicia, you're the only platinum blonde in the mansion" Peter whispered back. "I would think it would be pretty obvious who the Black Cat is."

Felicia nudged her head to one side. Peter looked in the direction she was indicating and saw, lo, and behold, another platinum blonde.

"You where saying?"

Peter sighed deeply. He did not want to be bothered, and definitely not by an ex-girlfriend. And come to think of it, he had a lot of those...he did not want Mary Jane to become another. Felicia seemed to get wind that Peter did not want to talk. She sighed, rolled her green eyes a little, and walked away.

By now, the "Jolly One" as Peter called him, was already chatting it up with the various rich folk in Gotham as the Wayne Mansion butler was hastily walking around, passing out refreshments and the like. Walking with him was a man of agile build, with unkempt black hair that had recently been neatened, and looked to be around the same age as Peter. From the way he stood at that Butler's side so intently Peter guessed he was somehow affiliated with Bruce Wayne. That got Peter wondering: where was Bruce Wayne?

J. Jonah Jameson was thinking the same thing, so when he asked the butler, Alfred, the british valet simply said

"Master Bruce was preoccupied today and is therefore running a little late. I'm sure that he will be along shortly though."

Jameson seemed a little put out by this. "What kind of man doesn't go to his own charity event?" Jameson thought. Nevertheless, he kept up his pleasant demeanor. He shouted to Peter, who wasn't listening. He was just moping silently, entertaining the idea of calling MJ one last time but ultimately decided against it. Why, oh why, could she not understand, that he needs to be Spider-Man...but he needed her too...?

"PARKER!"

This shook Peter out of his thoughts. He saw Jameson motioning for him to come over, and Peter solemnly plodded over to him. Jameson instructed him to take a shot of him and some fat cat or another that he didn't recognize. Peter readied his trusty camera and snapped the picture, mildly impressed that Jameson was actually smiling for once.

As Peter snapped the photos, Dick Grayson just stood there, watching before walking off to get a drink. He helped himself to one of the non-alcoholic beverages, and began quietly drinking as he thought about when, or if, Bruce would be done with his current night's emergency. Something to do with that vampire-hunter he and Bruce had defeated a while back...

"Can't hold your liquor huh?"

Dick turned to the woman who addressed him. It was Felicia, but of course, he didn't know that. He just knew that he was looking at a really attractive woman. She had her green eyes fixed on him. Dick had been in this situation a few times in the past, so he wasn't completely at a loss for words, although he wasn't sure he'd ever seen anyone so...alluring before, except maybe Kori...

"I don't drink much" he finally responded.

Felicia moved a little closer to him. She knew someone interesting when she saw them.

"Well that's good to know. So...what's your part in this little event?"
"I'm an adopted son of Bruce Wayne's. You?"

Dick and Felicia got to talking to one another and getting to know each-other. Peter shook his head as he watched from afar. She was incorrigible sometimes. Peter's attention was then shifted to the sudden appearance of a a helicopter. The vehicle attracted the attention of pretty much everyone in the mansion, and even more so when out came Bruce Wayne, with a woman under each arm.

"Glad to see you all got started without me, now, where is Mr. Jameson? Publisher of the Daily Bugle newspaper?"

Jameson rushed forward, practically bowling over several other people upon hearing his name. He walked over to Bruce and gave him quite the handshake.

"Glad to meet you, Bruce, (if I can call you Bruce) The Bugle's proud to work with such a prominent figure."

As Bruce went on to give a little speech, an armored car discreetly drove up to the back of the mansion. The back doors opened and out popped a dozen men in suits, dark-colored gloves, and distinctive white clown masks each with a unique facial design that covered their faces. The leader, a taller, thin-ish man with a clown mask with a red-lipped grin, a nose tipped with red, dark purple and blue rings around the eye-holes, and a tuft of green hair on top, turned to his men to give out orders.

"All right boys, let's do this. Virgil, Frank, you know the drill."

Two thugs, one in a mask with a frowny face, blue paint to represent five o' clock shadow, a red nose, red rims around the eyes, and blue eyebrows and the other with a mask with a blue-tipped nose, a red-lipped grin, and columns of blue over and around the eye-holes, moved forward to one of the power boxes stuck to the side of the mansion. Virgil, (the one with the grinning mask) took out a hammer like object and smashed open the power box. He then set about accessing the various wires as he had been instructed. Finally, everything was in place. He turned to the boss thug and gave his cue. The boss thug turned to the other 9 goons.

"You five, on the roof, get ready to rappel down when you get your cue. You four are with me. Virgil and Frank, you make sure no one gets out of here."

The five directed thugs scaled the side of the mansion, making their way up to the roof. They loaded their guns and prepared their grapple chords and gas bombs. Meanwhile, the boss thug and the others set themselves up near the windows. The boss thug turned to Virgil.

"Kill the lights"

Virgil cut the wire and all of Wayne Manor was plunged into darkness, and with it, chaos and confusion, several voices ringing out.

"The F- Man?"

"What's going on?"

"Oh my G-d!"

Peter's spider-sense was going off like crazy, and he knew this power outage wasn't natural. As the mansion was cloaked in darkness, Peter discreetly made his way to the nearby restroom...

Finally, the lights where back on, and the people inside where horrified to find that several armed men with horrific-looking Clown masks where now among them. Dick recognized the "uniforms" and the thug's organization anywhere.

"Joker" Dick thought to himself. He turned to tell Felicia she should probably find someplace safe but was surprised to see she was already gone. Dick didn't have time to wonder, instead he made his way, ever-so-slowly to the secret spot where his Nightwing costume and clubs where stored. As he did, the Joker-thugs made their way through the terrified crowd. J. Jonah Jameson scowled at the thugs with contempt.

"What is the meaning of this? What do you crooks think you're doing! This is a charity event-"

"Shut up" The thug hit him with the but end of his assault rifle. Jameson spat out a bit of blood.

"HOW DARE YOU! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM? I'M J. JONAH JAME-"

The thug hit him with the butt end of his rifle yet again. "I said shut up ya old geezer"

By now, Jameson took a hint and stood down, tending to his heavily bloodied nose. The lead thug, flanked by two more goons, strolled up and down the crowd.

"All right listen up. In case you have trouble grasping the obvious, this is a robbery. Now I want each and everyone of you fat-cats to give us any and everything valuable you haven't already put in the donation boxes. Down to the last penny. If you don't, then we will help ourselves to the money in the donation boxes and execute one of you every five minutes until you are all dead. Is that clear?"

Everyone was too terrified to respond. People nervously eyed the thug's guns as Dick desperately awaited his chance to change into his Nightwing costume without attracting attention. The head thug fired his pistol into the air, the bullet striking the chandelier hanging above.

"I SAID IS THAT CLEAR!"

"Yes!" Was the unanimous response. Two of the thugs went by with bags in their hands and the various people where forced to dump whatever money they hadn't already donated, along with anything else they had that the thugs deemed valuable, into them. Down to the last watch and wedding ring. As they did, the thug leader shouted once more

"Now I'm just going to warn any "heroes" that come along that if they try anything..."
another thug grabbed Robbie Robertson, Jameson's most trusted confidante at the Daily Bugle, and held a pistol to his head.

"We will execute this man, and a LOT of other people."

A strand of webbing hit the thug right in the face. Robbie elbowed him back and ran away as fast as possible. The thug struggled to tear of the webbing and finally resorted to just tearing the mask off. He looked up. There, clinging to the wall, was a figure in a distinctive red-and-blue costume.

"Robbing from a charity event? For shame!"

Spider-Man leaped down and kicked the thug to the ground. The head-thug back-pedaled furiously, emptying his pistol at the wall-crawler. Spider-Man expertly dodged every shot and with another strand of webbing, disarmed the head-thug of his pistol. "And here I thought clowns where supposed to be friendly..."
Spider-Man's spider-sense went off and he leaped over another thug as he fired his rifle at him. Spider-Man shot a strand of webbing at his face before landing and pounding him good. Two more thugs moved in, and by now, Dick Grayson had the distraction he needed. He ran away from the scene of the battle and to where his costume and gear were kept in case of emergencies….

Meanwhile, Spider-Man continued to make complete fools out of the Joker-thugs, keeping up his endless string of one-liners and smart-ass remarks as he went.

"Come on guys. Yeah, a clown's life is a stressful one, but you're not seriously taking that out on these people are you? Can't you just do what you usually do? Pie to the face? Joybuzzer? The guns and threats don't seem very in-character..."

As he continued, Spider-Man was pleased to see that his one-liners where only making the thugs even angrier, and in their desperation to kill him, they became more sloppy. Peter kept up his routine, and soon, two more thugs where out cold. Another thug cocked his shotgun and got ready to fire when a steel club suddenly flew through the air. The club striked the thug right in the head, cracking his clown mask and knocking him down. Now, everyone's attention was turned to the newcomer: Nightwing, with two more steel clubs, one in each hand. Nightwing cartwheeled forward and delivered a kicking blow to another thug, knocking him back a bit. The thug staggered back up and Nightwing brought his twin clubs to the thug's head, shattering his mask and knocking him out.

By now, half of the thugs where out cold. Virgil and Frank radioed the head-thug and asked him what was going on.
"Superheroes. Get your asses in here, we need help!"

Virgil and Frank where all set to rush in, it seemed, when the connection was killed.

"Virgil? Frank?" There was no response.

Another thug moved in, assault rifle ready, and opened fire into the crowd, callously disregarding any innocents that might be hurt. Seeing this, Spider-Man quickly webbed his rifle and tossed it aside, but the damage had been done. One person was dead, and three more where on the floor bleeding. Spider-Man leaped down and bandaged the wounded using webbing, before leaping back into the fray. The one who had shot at the crowd ran at Spider-Man, who leaped over him as he charged forward. Spidey landed as the thug turned and drew a combat knife. He charged at Spidey, who grabbed his knife hand with one hand and punched the thug twice in the ribs with the other.

Meanwhile, Nightwing was having to deal with the last three thugs. Seeing that they had no real chance of winning, the thugs opted for a different approach. The two goons hastily grabbed a person each and pulled them in front of them, guns aimed at their heads. The head thug took a holstered pistol from one of them and aimed it at Nightwing.

"OK Hero, listen up. If you don't want these two people to get their heads blown off, you'll just stand nice and still, and I'll kill you instead. Deal?"

A female voice rang out "I've got a better idea..." a clawed rope slashed through the air and disarmed the head thug of his gun. He and Nightwing looked up and down dropped Black Cat, who knocked out the two thugs with hostages with chops to the neck.

"How about you and your boys kiss the floor instead?"

"How many of you damn superheroes are there?"
The head thug drew a crowbar and started swinging at Black Cat as the last thug resumed shooting at Nightwing. The two heroes dealt with their opponents with ease, so the thugs opted to switch partners at the last minute. A foolish move. Black Cat easily downed the last thug as the thug leader tried to bring his crowbar down on Nightwing, who easily blocked it by making an "x" with his twin clubs. Nightwing then pushed the crowbar back and delivered a vicious kick to the thug's chest that knocked him back. Spider-Man then moved in, webbing up the two thugs before they could get back up. It was over.

By now, several people had bolted from the mansion and fled (though not before retrieving their stolen valuables) and everyone else was rooted in place, paralyzed with fear at the series of events that had just transpired.

"I'm gonna kill Virgil and Frank if I ever see them again..." The head thug grumbled. "They where supposed to come in and provide back-up..."

Maniacal laughter then rang out, and the people inside panicked once again. Spider-Man's spider-sense starting buzzing intensely.

"Oh no..." Peter thought. "Not him...not now..."

Nightwing muttered under his breath "Joker?"

Spider-Man overheard and turned to regard Nightwing.

"Worse."

Then, almost on cue, a figure riding atop a strange flying machine resembling a giant bat burst through the already broken roof, laughing maniacally. He wore a light green bodysuit, with purple armored boots and gauntlets that stopped at the wrist, with clawed green gloves past that. His torso was covered with more purple armor, and he wore a short, shredded purple cape. And then there was the mask. It was green, like the bodysuit, with pointy ears, topped with a purple cap, and possessing a leering smile of sheer sadism accompanied by yellow eyes that showed nothing but madness.

"Greetings, hello, Bosnia! I am the GREEN GOBLIN!"

"The Green Goblin?

The Goblin beamed with pride as he turned to regard Nightwing.

"Yes my boy! The Green Goblin! The most cunning supervillain in New York City! The master of her criminal underworld! And HIS greatest enemy!" Green Goblin pointed directly at Spider-Man as he said that last part. Everyone in the mansion turned their gazes to the web-slinger.

"Uh..."

The Goblin cackled maniacally and launched a volley of pumpkin bombs. Spider-Man, Black Cat, and Nightwing leaped out of the way as the bombs came raining down. The Goblin flew around and launched another volley, accompanied by razor-bats. Once again, the three heroes used their superior agility to dodge the projectiles as Spider-Man took to webbing people out of the way, including a certain publisher who was a little less then grateful...

"PUT ME DOWN YOU MASKED LUNATIC!" Jameson hollered as Spider-Man pulled him out of the way of a Pumpkin Bomb.

"I'LL BET YOU AND THAT NUT ARE IN CAHOOTS! YOU-"

Spidey shot some webbing over Jameson's mouth to shut him up, which only enraged him further, but at least now he couldn't express it verbally. Spidey set Jameson down and leaped back into the fray against his most hated enemy.

Meanwhile, Nightwing and Black Cat weren't doing so well against the Green Goblin. His glider kept him safe from harm, and he threw his explosives with a deadly mix of reckless abandon and keen precision. Nightwing hurled one of his clubs at the Green Goblin but he merely dodged the strike by flying out of the way.

"HA HA! Missed me!" The Goblin cackled once more, before pointing one of his gloved hands at Nightwing, with two fingers extended. Out came a laser blast of a sickly yellow color. Nightwing barely leaped out of the way in time. The Goblin fired another laser blast from his gloves. Then another. Finally, he prepped another pumpkin bomb...

A strand of webbing struck him in the face. The Goblin dropped his Pumpkin Bomb and tore the webbing off. Spidey swung in at that moment and kicked the Goblin off his glider. The Goblin quickly recovered and the two began a vicious exchange of blows. Spider-Man fought with a bit more zeal then he was used to. Probably because he hated the Green Goblin. ANY Green Goblin. After what Norman had done...

"So, Spidey," The Goblin said in between a chuckle and another attempted blow.

"I do so hope you're not still angry about the poor blonde girl" The Goblin said that last bit with mockery and false sympathy. A second later he burst out laughing. Something in Spidey snapped about there. But he was also confused. How did he know? It couldn't be Norman. Norman is dead. He couldn't know...

Spidey chose to ignore it and kept up his attack. The Goblin popped a long, sharp
blade out of his gauntlet and started to thrust and swing wildly. Spider-Man dodged each blow as it came, and then kicked the Goblin back. The Goblin quickly recovered and Spidey dodged the next blow. Nightwing leaped in and made his attack as the Goblin was distracted. The Goblin took a few punishing blows before swatting Nightwing away with his arm. The former boy wonder went sailing across the room and crashed right into a nearby table. He felt a fractured rib.

Dammit, he's strong...

The room came back into focus and Dick saw a black gloved hand extended offering to help him up. Dick took it and Black Cat pulled him up. It hurt. He definitely had a fractured rib. He turned to Black Cat.

"Who is this Green Goblin exactly?"

"You should probably ask the Spider that. After he's done with him."

The way she said that, and what the Green Goblin himself had said, definitely suggested that Spider-Man and this "Green Goblin" had history, and not pleasant history at that. Nightwing watched as Spider-Man and the Green Goblin kept up their exchange. He could see how Spider-Man was fighting. Faster, harder, more brutally...Dick had seen this before whenever Bruce fought the Joker after Jason's death. It was the mark of a man cutting loose against his most hated enemy. He wondered if Spidey would be tempted to go too far...

Meanwhile, Spider-Man and the Green Goblin kept up their battle. Goblin seemed to be tiring, making mistakes. That wasn't like him. Spidey was now beginning to think it was an impostor then. A false successor. Another attempted slash by the Green Goblin with his wrist-blade shook Spider-Man out of his thoughts. Spider-Man dodged the blade enough that it didn't seriously injure him, but it did manage to cut his costume a bit. Spider-Man landed an uppercut and then a vicious kick that knocked the Green Goblin up into the wall. Spider-Man webbed his wrists to the wall to keep him from escaping, and then ran up to him and landed a vicious punch to the jaw. Then, he grabbed the mask. Time to see who this "Green Goblin" was...

Spider-Man pulled the mask right off. He was dumbstruck by what he saw. A sullen, but youthful face stared back at him, with light brown hair that was a little slicked back, and hard brown eyes. He'd know this man anywhere. He was, had been, his best friend...

"YOU'RE the Green Goblin!" No, that's not possible, it can't be you...it just can't..."

Harry Osborn, son of the late Norman Osborn, the original Green Goblin, stared venomously at his former friend.

"Surprised Peter? You shouldn't be. I told you I'd avenge my father...and I intend to do it right now!"

Harry, using all of his strength, ripped off one of the bits of webbing pinning his wrist and launched a hand at Peter's throat. Peter moved out of the way and then his Spider-Sense started to go off...

Peter instinctively moved out of the way. He heard a sickening sound of blades piercing flesh and a horrified gasp by the crowd following it. Peter turned around in horror. Harry Osborn, his best friend, had been impaled by his own glider, just like his father before him...

Spider-Man whipped around. The crowd was staring at him with a mix of expressions that ranged from horrified and disbelieving, to angry, and accusatory. Robbie and Felicia had the former expression, Jameson the latter. Nightwing just stared at him hard. Then, Peter's spider-sense began to go off again. Several GCPD officers, led by Harvey Bullock burst in at that moment. They where greeted with a crowd of panicked on-lookers, ten unconscious and incapacitated thugs, and a four costumed individuals, one of which had a large metal device sticking out of him, blood now forming as a puddle beneath him. One of the Cops whispered to Bullock.

"That guy, in the red and blue, I think that's the Spider-Man, from New York City."

Bullock turned to him and growled "Well what in blazes is he doing here!"

"I don't know sir, but that corpse over there, looks an awful lot like the Green Goblin, Spider-Man's arch-enemy..."

"How the hell do you know all of this corporal?"

"I...I uh...I read a lot on superheroes..."

"Never mind." Bullock turned. Spider-Man and and Nightwing were still there, but the female costumed character had disappeared, having undoubtedly run off while Bulliock was talking to Corporal Jenkins. Bullock swore to himself and then looked at what the rest of the scene was. The Green Goblin had been impaled by some strange-looking device, and his hands had been restrained. He glared at Spider-Man, his gun aimed at him.

"All right ya freak. Hands where I can see them. You got a few questions to answer..."

Meanwhile, Peter was panicking. These police must have thought he had killed Harry. But he hadn't! Well, he had webbed Harry's hands to the wall, so he couldn't escape when the glider came at him...No. That wasn't the same thing. But the cops might not think so. Jameson was going to have a field day over this, but Peter couldn't think about that right now. Thoughts and scenarios where rushing in and out of his head. He had to act, and fast. Peter sprinted to one of the windows, using his superior agility to dodge the bullets before Bullock ordered a cease-fire, not wanting his men to accidentally shoot at the innocent bystanders. Spider-Man made his way to the window that had been broken by the Joker-thugs entry, and swung away into the night. Seeing this, Bullock turned to his men and barked out orders.

"ALL RIGHT! Lock this place down! No one in or out until the Commissioner gets here! I want these crooks on the floor in cuffs! I want the body bagged and ready for the ME to look at!" Bullock turned to regard Nightwing, but saw, to his extreme frustration, that he was nowhere to be found...