Public Relations

Walking side by side with her boyfriend Randy Robertson across the campus of Empire State University, Gwen Stacy reflected on just how much things had changed in the nearly two months since she'd gone steady with Randy. At first she'd been eager to form a steady relationship with him, especially after all the emotional support he'd given her, but then she'd become torn about whether to reveal her secret identity as the spectacular Spider-Woman once Randy had explained that he didn't like or trust superheroes. A chill had subsequently developed between them on New Year's Eve, when Gwen had to suddenly run out as Spider-Woman to fight the Brothers Grimm. Randy had seen through her feeble excuses and gotten angry at Gwen keeping secrets from him, until he'd finally come out and asked her whether she was Spider-Woman. The truth had finally come out, as Gwen admitted that she was the web-slinging heroine and explained to Randy just why she did it. In turn, Randy had come to better understand just what compelled her to do it.

All that seemed to be a thing of the past now, as Gwen and Randy had resumed dating and returned to their normal routines. In particular, Gwen enjoyed walking with Randy, leaning her head on his shoulder as they enjoyed the parklike atmosphere of the campus.

"Nice day, isn't it?" Gwen asked Randy, looking up at him as he took his eyes off the sky and returned her gaze. "Think the snow might melt soon?"

"You never know, I guess," Randy shrugged. "Winter does have its upsides, though."

"What's that?" Gwen asked curiously.

"Like the way that scarf matches your eyes," Randy grinned, referring to the royal blue scarf wrapped around Gwen's neck and the bright sparkle in her blue eyes.

Gwen only giggled at that.

"The cold's a good excuse for us to cuddle, too," she realized, as she drew Randy in for a kiss. "We need to keep warm, after all."

They resumed their walk, Gwen happy and relieved to finally have the whole business of Randy's suspicions about her secret identity behind her. Even if Randy didn't seem entirely comfortable with what she was doing, he was at least making every effort to support her choices. Her grades were also much better than they had been last semester, now that she could spend more time focusing on her studies, and her mother Helen Stacy was now as healthy as she had ever been.

Of course, there was still the frustration and stress Gwen had to deal with over the fact that she hadn't had any good acting or modeling work in months, the fact that so many supervillains had escaped from Riker's Island Penitentiary last week, and especially Vincent Gonzalez's public hate campaign against her as Spider-Woman, with all the sickening details that went with it.

SPIDER-WOMAN #47

"PUBLIC RELATIONS"

"Hello out there, I'm Mark Branden and this is Branded, the public affairs show that brings you the news and opinions that the establishment doesn't want you to know about," the TV pundit greeted his audience. "Tonight my guests will include Senator Hillary Clinton, who's going to fill us in on what she's got planned for Super Tuesday II. I'll also be joined by Al Edwards of Stop The Trough, with whom I'll be discussing his efforts to overturn this city's idiotic law that requires building projects to have funds set aside for public art."

"My first guest tonight, though, is Vincent Gonzalez of New Yorkers for a Spider-Free City, who's instigated an online hate campaign against the masked heroine Spider-Woman that's been spreading like wildfire. He's here tonight to talk about his plans to take his campaign to a whole new level!"

"So, Vincent," Branden said, turning from the camera to face Vincent Gonzalez, who was sitting in the guest's chair next to him, "what exactly is this whole new level you're talking about? Are you going to try and get Spider-Woman run out of town, or something?" Branden asked curiously.

"Not exactly," Vincent Gonzalez grinned, warming to his subject as the camera focused on him. "Rather, New Yorkers for a Spider-Free City is advocating a total ban on superheroing altogether. That's why my organization is becoming New Yorkers for a Mask-Free City!"

"But haven't Spider-Woman and the rest of New York's heroes saved a lot of people's lives?" Mark Branden raised an eyebrow. "What about the analyses released by economists ranging from Paul Krugman to Milton Friedman which all claim that superheroes have prevented supervillains from causing billions, if not trillions, of dollars in economic damage that would have resulted if the villains' plans had succeeded?"

"That's exactly the sort of thing a bunch of paper-pushing ivory tower-eggheads would say," Vincent snorted. "Is that really any consolation to the people whose loved ones get killed in a super-powered grudge match, or who end up losing their livelihoods after a villain trashes their store? No, it's not! My sister was murdered by that electrically-charged freakshow Supercharger, just because she criticized Spider-Woman! Where was Spider-Woman then, huh?"

"So what about all the people Spider-Woman and the city's other heroes have saved?" Mark Branden asked.

"What about them?" Vincent shrugged. "They wouldn't have been in danger in the first place if it wasn't for these costumed nuts treating our city like a playground! That's the thing-half of the superpowered fights in this city are caused by villains trying to get revenge on the heroes who stopped them in the first place! Most of the people heroes save were kidnapped by villains to use as hostages!"

There was considerable murmuring from the studio audience, as Branden rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"...So what would you do as a solution, then?" Branden asked him. "We get rid of the superheroes, and then the villains run amuck?"

"That's where the Second Amendment comes in," Vincent smirked. "A good, armed population can stand up to them the same way they do any other criminal," he said confidently.

"So where does that leave individuals with superpowers?" Branden asked. "What happens if you get doused with chemicals or get hit with radiation that gives you the ability to fly and shoot heat vision?"

"They can register with the government," Vincent pointed out. "There's no need for them to start putting on fancy Halloween outfits and causing more trouble than they actually prevent. It's just like with the mutants-if they don't do anything illegal, then they won't have anything to worry about!"

"Interesting," Branden nodded. "We'll be back after this..."

"You're home early," Gwen said to her aunt Nancy Stacy as Nancy came in the door one night later that week, a dejected look on her face. "What happened?"

"...I don't know," Nancy shook her head. "I thought I'd be having a good time. She seemed like the perfect catch, but after a while I was so bored I just couldn't take it anymore."

"Was there anything wrong with her?" Gwen blinked.

"No, Susie's really nice," Nancy replied. "But for whatever reason, every time I go on a date and I think I've found someone I like, something always goes wrong."

"Are they all really nasty?" Gwen asked, scratching her head in confusion. "Are they not interested in you because you're a mother? Do they have the wrong kinds of careers or hobbies? What is it?"

"Sometimes it's one of those, sometimes it's another," Nancy shrugged. "I really don't know, Gwen-the only time I ever really felt something special like that was when I had Jill, and when you and your mother moved in."

"What do you mean?" Gwen raised an eyebrow.

"When I saw some of the people I grew up with having children of their own, I wanted one more than anything else in the world," Nancy explained. "I was lucky to get one of my male friends to agree to donate his sperm. When you and Helen moved in, I was really happy to be able to help you. You're both like family to me-Helen's like the sister I never had! But every time I try to find a girlfriend, it never seems to work out," Nancy sighed sadly.

"And you've never been interested in men?" Gwen asked.

"No," Nancy shook her head. "I mean, as friends and relatives I don't have a problem, but I've never really been attracted to men. That's when I realized I was probably gay," she noted.

Gwen thought on that for several moments, before her eyes lit up.

"Are you really sure you're a lesbian, though?" Gwen asked her.

"Of course I am," replied Nancy, slightly confused. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, you've never really been all that happy dating other women," Gwen pointed out. "Out of all of them, you couldn't see yourself with any of them at all?"

"No," Nancy shook her head. "Every single time, it just fizzled out."

"And the only time you've ever really felt happy that way was when Jill, Mom and I joined the family?" Gwen pointed out.

"Yeah..." Nancy nodded.

"See, I think the thing is that you're not so much interested in having sex as you are in having a family," Gwen pointed out. "Did you ever feel the same urge to have another kid after you had Jill?"

"Well, no..." Nancy shook her head. "I just wanted a child of my own to love. Once I had Jill, I felt like I got what I wanted."

"And what about me and Mom?" Gwen persisted.

"Well, I was just worried about you," Nancy said. "I mean, you're family! How could I leave you hanging after your father kicked you out of the house?"

"Exactly my point," Gwen smiled. "I don't think you're a lesbian, Aunt Nancy-you just thought you were because you realized you weren't interested in men. If anything, I think you're probably asexual."

Nancy thought on that for several minutes, turning over in her mind everything that Gwen had said.

"...Actually, it explains a lot," she realized. "Thanks a lot, Gwen..."

Gwen just smiled back.

Jackson Arvad scowled as he looked over the reports the Fixer had provided to him. Having participated in the mass jailbreak orchestrated by the Spot from Riker's Island, he had since commissioned the Fixer, the well-known criminal technologist, to gather some information on a number of people Arvad was interested in.

More commonly known as Will O' the Wisp, Jackson Arvad had gained the ability to control the molecules in his body, transforming himself into a streak of golden light that could do everything from control machinery to blind or even hypnotize anyone in the vicinity. His powers came from a disastrous accident during an energy experiment when he worked at the Roxxon Energy Corporation, which stemmed from Jackson's attempting to impress his bosses with his thriftiness by reducing spending on safety measures. Arvad had been the only one to survive the resulting explosion, and he'd been subsequently fired by Roxxon for negligence. His attempts to sue the company for wrongful termination had bankrupted him, even as his wife left him for constantly neglecting her in favor of his work. Bankrupted and feeling as though he had nothing left to lose, he'd become a supervillain before being defeated by Spider-Woman and sent to prison.

Now, having gotten out of jail, Will o' the Wisp intended to make up for lost time. He'd hired the Fixer to compile information on his wife Maureen and various other targets that he intended to get revenge on. The Fixer had gathered most of this information through a sophisticated bot program he'd developed that could gather information from both the Internet and the Outsider Network, a special global communications network the Fixer had developed that was almost impossible for law enforcement officials to track via IP addresses or other cyber-detection methods. The Fixer's bot program had gathered information from the four corners of both networks for the Wisp to use, inspired by his original success at doing it for Moonstone after her attempt to revive the infamous Tomorrow Legion supervillain cartel. Since then, other villains had begun paying the Fixer to gather the information they wanted, and the Fixer was quite ready to accommodate them.

Looking over the information, the Wisp had a good idea where Maureen was living, and he also got some useful information on a number of the other people he'd made enemies of during his time at Roxxon. The Wisp had stepped on a lot of people to get to the top at Roxxon, and they'd enjoyed watching him fall.

They're going to be the first ones, the Wisp thought to himself, his eyes glowing pure white with anger. I'm going to show them why I crushed them in the first place!

And then Maureen, and that backstabbing son of a bitch Hugh, the Wisp continued, referring to Hugh Jones, a Roxxon staffer the Wisp had stepped on to get a senior manager's position and who Maureen had eventually run off with.

The only possible complication, of course, is what I'll do if Spider-Woman interferes, the Wisp continued.

Of course, if she does...

...well, I've wanted my revenge on her for a long time now as well, he concluded.

Gwwn grimaced as she read the article in the celebrity gossip magazine, wondering if the writer could possibly have been more blind. The article was a speculation on which actors or actresses would be best suited to playing the roles of various superheroes, and the writer had claimed that Bryce Dallas Howard was the actress best-suited to play Spider-Woman.

That's got to be one of the most insulting things I've ever read, Gwen frowned in disgust as she continued reading the article. I mean, there are so many better actresses that could play me as Spider-Woman: Kirsten Dunst, Jennifer Lyons, Anne Hathaway, Jennette McCurdy, Hilary Duff, Taylor Swift, Eliza Dushku, Kelly Brook, Emma Stone...and this hack excuse for a journalist chooses Bryce Dallas Howard? She doesn't even look anything like me!

Resisting the urge to throw the magazine across the room, Gwen happened to look up and saw her reflection in the mirror. She saw that her cheeks were red with anger and that her mouth was turned down in an angry scowl, and burst into laughter at how ridiculous she was for getting so angry over something so absurdly silly.

Turning the page in her magazine, her amusement turned to pain as she saw Felicia Hardy posing for Kingsley Cosmetics' Satin Angel perfume line. That modeling work was Gwen's for the taking, but she'd lost it after she'd been groped by Kingsley Cosmetics' lecherous head Roderick Kingsley, and she'd broken his nose striking back at him. Since that time, Kingsley had threatened to ruin her career, and so far it seemed like he'd succeeded-Gwen hadn't had much in the way of callbacks for the few modeling jobs she'd applied for since that miserable day. Then again, she'd been so consumed with her studies and moving back home that she'd more or less put looking for work on hold.

Still, it pained Gwen to think of all the modeling jobs and acting roles that she'd probably missed over the last few months. It still meant a lot to her to be able to do those things-whenever she was on stage or in front of a camera, all her troubles went away and she could immerse herself fully in the role, playing it to perfection.

So it was that the ring on her cell phone startled her, and it took her a few seconds to answer it.

"Hello?" she asked curiously.

"Is this Gwen Stacy?" a husky woman's voice on the other end asked.

"Yes..." Gwen trailed off. "And you are?"

"My name is Desiree Vaughn-Pope," the woman replied. "Perhaps you've heard of me?"

"Of course I have," Gwen nodded. Vaughn-Pope Cosmetics was a rising company in the fashion world, and it was known both for its innovative designs and its ugly rivalry with Kingsley Cosmetics, owned by the lecherous Roderick Kingsley. Their long and bitter feud had been the talk of the fashion world for the last couple of years, culminating in a lawsuit launched by Vaughn-Pope against Kingsley, in which she alleged that that Kingsley had plagiarized some of her company's designs and perfume recipes and passed them off as his own.

"Why are you calling me?" she asked.

"I've heard about your little...'incident' with Mr. Kingsley," Desiree Vaughn-Pope replied, "and I believe we can help each other."

"...What did you have in mind?" Gwen asked slowly, completely baffled as to what Desiree Vaughn-Pope would want with her. Was Vaughn-Pope planning something illegal? Did she need Gwen as a witness in a civil suit against Kingsley?

"I have a new product line that I'm preparing to bring to market," Vaughn-Pope replied calmly, "and I'm looking for new talent."

"What kind of talent?" Gwen asked, although she was getting an idea of what Vaughn-Pope had in mind.

"I would like to enlist your considerable skills in helping me get back at Kingsley, my dear," Vaughn-Pope replied. "I've seen the work you did for Kingsley, and I have to admit that I rather envied him for finding someone of your caliber. Of course, after your little 'falling out' with him, I realized you were a free agent."

"What did he say about me?" Gwen asked, anger rising up in her again.

"He called you a pretentious witch with an ego even bigger than her bust size," Vaughn-Pope explained, "but I can assure you that most people did not take him at face value. As you may have heard, Kingsley is known as the sneering lizard of the fashion world. Most of us have been on the receiving end of his slander at one time or another, and so his fellow fashion mavens have learned to take his words with a few grains of salt. I would presume that there was more to the story than your simply being difficult to work with?"

"Yes, if you count being groped by a married man old enough to be your father," Gwen spat in disgust. "I can't say I regret breaking his nose for that."

"I have to admit, that's my other reason for wanting to hire you," Vaughn-Pope tittered. "But I believe I have a winning product at hand, and I just need some good models to help me advertise it!"

"What's the product?" Gwen asked, curiosity replacing anger.

"Thigh-high socks have come back as a popular fashion trend recently, as I'm sure you're aware. More particularly, knee- and thigh-high sports socks have become popular, and that's what I'm producing as part of my new relaunch. I'm producing a new line of socks patterned after the colors of the various NFL teams. There's going to be 32 variants, one for each team!"

"Wow, that sounds great!" Gwen grinned. "When were you planning to do the shoot?"

"You're probably still in school right now, aren't you?" Vaughn-Pope noted. "Midterms are coming up, aren't they?"

"I'm afraid so," Gwen sighed.

"And Spring Break's coming up too," Vaughn-Pope noted, "and somehow I doubt you want to spend all your vacation time working. Tell you what-when you get an idea of your schedule over the next couple of weeks, let me know and we'll work something out. I still need to recruit some other models too."

"No problem," Gwen grinned. "And thanks, Ms. Vaughn-Pope-I really appreciate it."

"It's my pleasure, I assure you," Vaughn-Pope replied, before she hung up.

Gwen hung up as well and resumed reading, her mood brightening immediately.

She wasn't sure what pleased her more-the thought of getting more paying work, or the thought of sticking it to Roderick Kingsley.

Gregor Shapanka nodded in satisfaction as he finished inspecting the cryogenic units of his costume. He wasn't sure how long it would take him to track down this Donald Gill character, and he knew he'd have to be ready for anything, especially if he ran into some sort of meddling, do-gooder superhero. Shapanka had always been obsessive when it came to detail, and that was what had led him to rise as far as he had at Stark Industries.

Of course, that same obsession also led Shapanka to be fired by Tony Stark after he'd embezzled corporate resources and funds to work on some of his own personal projects in cryonics. While Stark had been intrigued by Shapanka's original proposals for cryonics technology, he'd had concerns about how much Shapanka's research was running in the way of expenses, particularly given how much the company would have had to charge for some of the devices Shapanka planned to develop, which would further narrow the market and limit potential sales. When Shapanka blew off his concerns, Stark immediately nixed his projects in response.

Infuriated at what he viewed as Stark's wishy-washiness, Shapanka began looting the resources he needed to complete his work, but Stark had always made sure his security employees earned their pay. Shapanka's thefts had been discovered and he'd been fired by Stark, who'd also testified at Shapanka's trial for theft and embezzlement. During his testimony, Stark had specifically pointed out Shapanka's obsessive drive, noting that it prevented him from taking "No" for an answer and led him to try and tear down anything or anyone who got in his way.

Stark's words proved to be prophetic several years later after Shapanka's release from prison. Having now perfected his cryogenic technology on his own, Shapanka had decided to keep the technology for himself, not thinking anyone else worthy enough to benefit from his genius. Taking his cue from the costumed supervillains who were popping up all over the world, Shapanka joined their ranks as the costumed criminal Blizzard. He'd first indulged his grudge against Stark Enterprises, and had clashed with Iron Man, the armored warrior that Stark Enterprises had developed to protect the company's assets. Defeated by Iron Man, Shapanka had gone on to clash with Iron Man several more times, even as he battled other superheroes like She-Hulk and served in the Masters of Evil.

Today, however, Shapanka was after an entirely different target. He'd been out of New York for several years, seeking out other cities where there was less supervillain competition. He'd only come back because he'd heard of a second villain who called himself Blizzard, a member of a particularly pathetic family of petty crooks and hoods who'd gained ice and cold powers after a freak accident involving Freon chemicals. He'd subsequently been defeated by Spider-Woman, and he'd been quite content to remain in prison until this recent outbreak organized by Norman Osborn, who'd sent the Spot to free the residents of the Raft.

Shapanka was outraged that anyone else would dare to try and use his supervillain alias, and he had come back to New York with the express purpose of killing Donald Gill, alias the second Blizzard, as a warning to anyone else with cold-based powers who might try to steal an identity that Shapanka considered to be his and his alone.

And if Iron Man, or anyone else, tried to interfere...

...well, no one ever accused Gregor Shapanka of having any warm feelings for anyone who got in his way.

"Hey, Randy!" Gwen greeted her boyfriend as they met for lunch the next day.

Randy looked up in response to her calling him, but he didn't return her smile as he usually did. Right away, Gwen could tell something was wrong-he had a faraway look in his eyes, and he was breathing heavily, as if he could barely contain his anger. He'd been looking at his laptop computer, which was open on the table in front of him, and now he was rubbing his face in a combination of disbelief and rage.

"What's wrong, Randy?" Gwen asked, as she sat down to join him.

"...It's all happening again, Gwen," Randy muttered.

"What do you mean?" Gwen asked in confusion.

"See for yourself," Randy said in disgust, turning around the computer so Gwen could take a look at it. To Gwen's dismay, she saw that Randy had been looking at an article on a popular news site recounting some of the latest attacks by mutant terrorists such as the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants and the Mutant Liberation Front. The article further discussed how prominent voices such as Senator Robert Kelly were tying these mutant terrorist attacks to the activities of the larger supervillain community, noting that other prominent villains such as Whirlwind, Screaming Mimi and the Nasty Boys were mutants as well. The article concluded by noting the rise in anti-mutant violence and hate crimes that had been occurring over the last several months in response.

"See why I'm so pissed?" Randy asked, noting the way Gwen paled as she read the article. "This is just more of the same kind of bullshit mutants have been suffering for the last decade!"

Gwen wasn't sure what to say.

"It's just like the shit black people still have to put up with in this goddamn country," Randy scowled. "We still get pulled over by the cops because they think we stole the cars we're driving, we still get dirty looks and threats when we date white women, we're still accused of being welfare cases who just sponge off the system without contributing. I mean, what the hell's even the point anymore?" he finished, clenching his hands in disgust.

"I..." Gwen trailed off. "I'm sorry...I wish...I wish I knew what to say..."

"That's because you don't have to deal with any of this shit," Randy spat, his eyes flaring. "You don't know what it's like to grow up black in this country..."

Gwen closed her eyes briefly, taking a deep breath.

"Maybe not," she replied, "but I do know what it's like to grow up a woman in this country."

Randy blinked in surprise, caught off guard by the calm but intense tone in Gwen's voice.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"See for yourself," Gwen replied, typing at Randy's computer before turning it back around to show him. Now it was Randy's turn to be disgusted as he read through the comments on the website Vincent Gonzalez had launched to promote his hate campaign against Spider-Woman, particularly those that described the lurid sexual goals many of the critics had for her.

"Oh my God," he muttered.

"It's not the sort of thing Daredevil or Moon Knight would have to put up with, is it?" Gwen pointed out. "Sometimes I doubt that their enemies would hit on them the first time they met, either. I may not be black, but I am a woman, and women still have to deal with a lot of crap in this day and age. When we go into business or politics, we still have people judging us by the way we look, rather than what we actually accomplished..." she trailed off.

"Yeah, but-" Randy caught himself, not entirely sure of what to say. "I mean, after everything that's happened-"

"Remember what you told me once, when we were trying out for The Wiz?" Gwen reminded him. "About what we were capable of if we believed in ourselves, and how we often forget the good by paying too much attention to the bad?" she continued. "That's the sort of thing you've helped me remember, Randy-do you know how many times I've wanted to just give up because of everything that's happened to me? If I've been able to do some good as Spider-Woman, you've done just as much to help me achieve it as anyone else."

Randy smiled sadly at that, although the pain was still clear in his eyes.

"Yeah, but what about-" he began.

"-your own community?" Gwen finished the sentence for him. "You're only twenty-one, Randy-there's no rush to do it all at once. What really matters is that you've got the desire. That's what counts as much as anything-you've got your whole life ahead of you, and I know you're going to accomplish everything you ever wanted to and more. Besides, you've already done more good than you originally expected-what about me and Kitty? Kitty's a mutant and we're both women-where would we be without you?" she finished, smiling brightly.

Randy just shook his head, as his smile grew wider.

"Let me guess-I forgot my own advice, didn't I?" he grinned.

"Pretty much," Gwen chuckled, the warmth of her smile making Randy feel as though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

"Thanks, Gwen," he smiled back at her.

"I'm just returning the favor," she pointed out.

The man was a hellish glow in the darkness, making a careful effort to keep his flames low as he walked down the street of Hell's Kitchen. He was carefully concealed in a thick winter coat, pants, hat and scarf that left him almost completely concealed, looking for all the world as yet another victim of the New York streets who'd fallen through the cracks in the system. In some ways, however, he stood out-he couldn't completely dispel the heat that emanated from his body, and if anyone had been looking at his footprints they would have seen the half-melted, congealed snow he left in his wake.

Of course, if they could see through the outer layer of clothing, the people passing by would have had very different reactions indeed. The man was once known as Harvey Broxtel, the son of wealthy steel magnate Gary Broxtel. Unfortunately, despite his parents' best efforts to discipline him and make him into a decent member of society, Harvey had combined a bloated sense of entitlement with a latent sociopathy that made him feel as if he had the right to abuse, terrify, beat and otherwise torment anyone with less money or privilege than he did.

Sending Harvey to public school as a way of making him get to know lower-class people hadn't helped one bit. All it did was turn Harvey into a cruel, sadistic bully in high school, and later a violent thug who beat on people who angered him. Unfortunately, Harvey's hair-trigger temper was tragically easy to set off, and he took a psychotic pleasure in beating on anyone he could get his hands on for the flimsiest of reasons.

Harvey had finally been arrested for beating one of his former victims nearly to death for telling on him, but during a prison break he'd been doused by a special radioactive plasma that had given him the power to generate and control flame. Now calling himself Firebrand, clad in a suit of jagged metal plates that had permanently melted into his skin during the accident, Harvey continued his rampages with his new fire-generating powers, at least until he was defeated by Spider-Woman. Arrested after Spider-Woman had defeated him, Firebrand had benefited from the recent jailbreak carried out by the Spot, which he'd heard had been orchestrated by Norman Osborn, alias the Green Goblin.

Firebrand didn't know exactly why the Goblin had organized the jailbreak, and in truth he didn't much care. He had a much bigger goal in mind-namely, killing his parents for what they'd done to him.

It still enraged Firebrand to think of how Gary and Emily Broxtel tried to make him, their only son, see himself as no better than the pathetic, miserable lowlifes who made up most of the population of New York. They had the wealth and the power, and they dared to treat him, their flesh and blood, the heir to everything they'd built, as though he were no better than some servant's kid?

Firebrand's anger boiled within him, but he did not release his flames. It was a good thing, since the intensity of Firebrand's flames tended to increase exponentially with his anger. The last thing he wanted was to burn the building he was staying in to the ground all around him.

He intended to reserve that honor for the house he'd grown up in.

Gwen had heard about the breakout at the Raft, and she realized that many of the villains she'd battled as Spider-Woman had probably escaped. Naturally, she was less than thrilled to hear about that, and had decided to go to the Raft herself to find out just which of her enemies had escaped.

That was one reason she wanted to go, but there was another reason she was visiting, one that was more important than anything to do with the rest of her enemies.

"I'm sorry I haven't been by in a while," Gwen apologized to Marie-Ange Colbert as they sat down in the prison visiting room. "How are you doing?"

"Pretty well, actually," Marie-Ange smiled back. Previously known as the costumed supervillain Tarot, a combination of an unpleasant home life and the abuse she'd suffered at the hands of people like Felicia Hardy and Sally Avril had led her to use her mutant abilities to summon the magical spirits of the tarot to kidnap and attempt to murder Felicia, Sally and the rest of the people she blamed for her misery. Tarot's plans had been thwarted by Spider-Woman, and ever since she'd been tried and sentenced Marie-Ange had been willing to remain in prison and serve out her sentence. Gwen came to visit her as often as she could, realizing that Tarot wasn't like the psychopaths who made up most of the rest of her rogues gallery.

"Are they treating you alright in here?" Gwen asked in concern.

Marie-Ange briefly frowned and looked away, before she managed to regain a straight face, forcing a smile onto her face.

"What's wrong?" Gwen asked, immediately realizing that something was wrong. "Are the guards-"

"...Not the guards," Marie-Ange shook her head. "Ever since that jailbreak the Spot did a couple of weeks ago, the guards have been pleased with my good behavior. I might not have actually gotten the chance to escape, but even if I did I never would have done it anyway. The guards were so angry about the Spot's jailbreak that they've been really nice to me."

"So what is it, then?" Gwen asked with a frown. "Is it the inmates?"

"...Yeah," Marie-Ange said sadly. "With all the crap that the mutant terrorist organizations are pulling right now, and the way it's being tied into the bigger supervillain population, the other prisoners are attributing it to me and all the other mutant prisoners. We're..." she trailed off again, unconsciously rubbing at the sleeves of her prison uniform.

Gwen recognized it immediately.

"Show me your arms," Gwen ordered Marie-Ange.

Marie-Ange paled, shaking her head.

"Show them to me!" Gwen insisted, as Marie-Ange reluctantly complied. Gwen flinched as she looked over the bruises, scars and cigarette burns on Marie-Ange's arms, realizing that the inmates abusing her were probably smart enough to only mark her in places where her clothing would cover it up.

"How can you let them do this to you?" Gwen asked in horror.

"...What can I do?" Marie-Ange shook her head. "I can't use my powers, and the inmates are managing to isolate me from the guards. If I act or tell anyone, they'll..." she blinked away the tears that were starting to appear in her eyes.

Gwen gripped the front of the table she was sitting at, trying to keep her rising fury under control, even as her cheeks took on an angry crimson hue.

"This is bullshit," Gwen muttered under her breath, as Marie-Ange looked at her curiously. "How the hell can you, of all people, get blamed for the crap that the Brotherhood is pulling?" she asked in frustration.

Marie-Ange just looked down.

"The guards can't protect you?" Gwen persisted.

"The other inmates are smart," Marie-Ange said quietly. "They've got all the time in the world to think up ways to get around the guards."

Gwen shook her head as she tried to figure out what to do.

There might not have been much she herself was capable of doing, but with luck Gwen might be able to get someone else, like Randy or even the X-Men, to help her deal with this.

"I won't leave you hanging in this, Marie-Ange," Gwen said determinedly, as she rose up from her chair. "Whatever it takes, I'm going to help you."

Marie-Ange still did say anything, only offering a sad smile in response.

Gwen returned the smile, although hers was one of determination and resolve.

The rest of the day and the evening passed quickly for Gwen, as she caught up on her homework and began planning her schedule for the next week. The month of March was coming up, and with luck she would be able to put her midterm exams behind her and then go on the trip to Daytona Beach that Harry was organizing for Spring Break in a couple of weeks. The trip she'd taken to Fire Island last year with her friends had been spoiled by the supervillain Polestar, and Gwen hoped that a trip to Daytona Beach wouldn't suffer the same fate.

It was while she was getting ready for bed that her cell phone rang. Surprised that anyone would be calling so late, Gwen picked up the phone, her surprise increasing when she saw that it was an unlisted number. Wondering who it could possibly be, Gwen opened the phone and held the receiver to her ear.

"Hello?" she asked curiously.

"Hey, babes," came a horrific, rasping voice on the other end. "Remember me?"

Gwen's blood ran cold as she heard the last voice she ever wanted to hear again. The guard she'd tried to talk to at the Raft yesterday while waiting for Marie-Ange had given her a verbal list of all the villains he knew of that had escaped in the Spot's jailbreak, but Jack O' Lantern had apparently slipped his mind, as improbable as that could be.

"Wh-what do you..." she stammered, her voice filling with fear and revulsion.

"I just thought I'd pay my favorite lady a friendly visit," Jack O' Lantern leered on the other end. "Look out the window-I'm just above your house!"

Frantically, Gwen did just that, throwing the window open and staring out into the cold, wintry night, but the streets were empty and dark.

"You..." Gwen gasped, half in anger and half in shock.

"Made you look," Jack O' Lantern snickered. "But, tell me-you ever feel like you're being watched?"

Gwen swallowed, trying to catch her breath as her heart pounded in her chest.

"I beat you before," she said determinedly, "and I'll do it again. If you so much as-"

"You didn't answer my question," Jack O' Lantern repeated himself. "You ever feel like you're being watched?"

"Damn you," Gwen scowled, anger rising within her. "Don't you dare-"

"I ask because I'm watching you, Gwen," Jack O' Lantern cackled. "I know where you're going, I know where you've been, I know where you are. You won't know when, and you won't know how, but I'm going to make you pay for everything you've done-"

"Everything I've done?" Gwen asked incredulously. "You're the one who chose to become a villain, you son of a-"

"Don't you remember what happened to the last person who interrupted one of my villain monologues?" Jack O' Lantern screeched, his rasping voice now filled with rage at being interrupted. "Here's something to remember-you were the one stupid enough to let me find out your secret identity. Anything I do to the people you love-and you can be sure I'm going to do it-is all going to be on your head!" he finished, laughing hysterically before hanging up.

Hanging up the phone, Gwen sat down on her bed, burying her head in her hands as she began to tremble involuntarily.

She tried to remind herself that this wasn't her fault, and that Jack O' Lantern would have hurt any number of innocent people no matter who he'd become an enemy of.

If I hadn't become Jack O' Lantern's nemesis, he would almost certainly have become the enemy of Sleepwalker, Moon Knight, Luke Cage or some other New York-based hero, Gwen told herself.

Those rationalizations paled beside her memory of what Randy had said when he'd learned that Jack O' Lantern had discovered her secret identity.

"But what about your enemies?" Randy tried again. "I mean, there's that Jack O' Lantern freak, Polestar, Tarot and God knows who else! What if one of them finally kills you? What if they find out who you really are?"

"If they hadn't become part of my rogues gallery, they would have become part of someone else's," Gwen pointed out. "And Jack O' Lantern does know who I am. I don't know how he found out, but he somehow discovered my secret identity."

Randy recoiled in horror at that, breaking away from Gwen and staring at her in disbelief.

"He knows who you are?" Randy asked incredulously. "How could you let that happen? What if that sick freak-"

"You think I haven't thought about that?" Gwen replied, her voice starting to crack. "You think I don't know that Jack O' Lantern could ruin my life just by revealing my secret identity, or by going after my loved ones? But what can I do about it if he tries, except stop him as Spider-Woman?"

"And I suppose you never thought about all the other people you were putting in danger by letting that psychopath find out about who you really were, did you?" Randy accused her, his voice rising in anger. "Now they're going to have to spend all their time looking over their shoulders!"

Gwen kept trying to tell herself that she hadn't done anything wrong, but the guilt and horror continued to fester in her mind.

Her sleep that night was restless and fitful, and on the rare occasions when she'd managed to fall asleep the image of Jack O' Lantern's flaming, leering pumpkin mask and insane laughter filled her dreams.

(Next Issue: With Jack O' Lantern's threats hanging over her head, Gwen tries to cope with the stress and frustration they cause her even as she prepares for Desiree Pope-Vaughn's modelling work, tries to organize help for Marie-Ange Colbert in prison, keep up on her schoolwork and tell her mother and Randy about Jack O' Lantern's latest threats. On top of everything else, she and Randy are invited to lunch by Randy's parents, who are eager to meet their son's new girlfriend. Even this isn't the last of the headaches Gwen has to deal with, she's forced to intervene as Spider-Woman when Will O' the Wisp attempts to murder his ex-wife and her new lover to get revenge for his wife abandoning him! All this and more in Spider-Woman #48: Hell Hath No Fury Like A Supervillain Scorned!)