Fan Fiction: Crossovers
Can't Get You Outta My Head

  "I do so love the day after busting up a crime ring."

  So thought Stephen Cranston as he worked away in the Sanctum, tapping out the newest front-page article of The New York Classic. Last night had been very successful for The Shadow and Spiderman, and their alter egos had the fun of telling the whole city whom was responsible for making the streets a little safer.

  There was a loud clank, then a metallic grinding sound.

  "Stephen?" It was his partner, Peter Parker, AKA Spider-Man, coming down the spiral staircase.

  "Down here"

  "I come bearing lunch. Chinese okay?" said Peter descended the stairs, lugging several plastic bags, and headed for the nearest table. Stephen turned and helped him with his load.

  "Perfect, You got me the Peking duck right?"

  Stephen was handed a white paper box, a pair of chopstick, and a large envelope full of Peter's photos from the night before.

  Stephen loaded the pictures one at a time onto the Sanctum's computer scanner, and the men selected the best photo while they ate. That done, the room fell silent except for the sounds of chewing.

  "Oh, you have some messages. I picked them up on the way out of the office. You really need to put in a darkroom down here," said Peter.

  Stephen grinned. This was an old discussion. "It's not easy to just tack on an extra room to the Sanctum Pete. Besides, who would go buy lunch then?"

  Peter chose not to respond, and pulled out several strips of paper from his pocket. He read them out and started handing them over one by one. "Okay, we got one here from your uncle Vic. He says congratulations on last night's success. Don't ask me how he found out so fast. I've given up trying to understand how Cranston's find these things out so quickly."

  "A smart move." commented Stephen looking over the note.

  "Message from the editor. He wants to know when we're getting our story in. And he asked--for only about the billionth time--whether or not you actually believe in The Shadow."

  Stephen was writing an email. "And I will of course answer him--for only about the billionth time--"

  The men said it together as Stephen typed it. "The Shadow is a myth, but he's a useful myth. He sells papers."

  Stephen laughed as he attached the story and clicked send. "That'll keep him happy for another twenty-four hours."

  "Another one from the editor to both of us, he says that while its great that we get these stories in, we have to remember that..."

  "We have an office, that's where we work." finished Stephen.

  "Yeah. And here's one from Moe, he says that the cab's bullet damage from last night is repaired, and he's ready to roll next time we need him."

  "Excellent." said Stephen taking a large bite of his food.

  "Oh, and there's one more message," said Peter handing it over. "From some woman named Diane Burke."

  Stephen gagged on the fried rice and recoiled from the paper like it was on fire.

  "D-Diane Burke? Call her back and tell her I'm dead!" He said, at a speed way faster than normal for him, and he actually seemed to shiver. If Peter didn't know his partner better, he could have sworn his partner was scared.

  Peter was intrigued. He wasn't sure Stephen was even capable of fear. "So," he said, "Who is this Diane Burke?"

  The mask came down and Stephen's normal poker face was back. "Just an old… acquaintance."

  Peter raised an eyebrow and grinned. "Ah, the iceman's story comes further into focus."

  Stephen glared, but this time, Peter was not impressed.

  Stephen was silent for a long moment, trying very hard to ignore the smug look on his friends face. "Alright, alright. She's an ex-girlfriend."

  Peter's grin tripled in size. "I knew it! She did it didn't she? She found the weakness in you. So much so that the mere mention of your name nearly gave you a coronary. She found the weakness that I've been searching for, for years. So what happened? Come on, come on!"

  "ALL RIGHT!" shouted Stephen, and then took a breath. "I had taken on the Shadow role for about a month. It was before I became a reporter. I tried to play the high society role like my uncle and Grandfather. I met Diane at the Cobalt Club. We hit it off, and got together. It lasted almost half a year, to the point where I considered bringing her in on all this." He gestured around the Sanctum, and fell silent for a full two minutes.

  Peter prompted him. "But..."

  "But... we had incompatible careers. I was a vigilante crime-fighter, and she worked for Kingpin."

  Peter choked also. "Did she get close to you because..."

  "I asked myself that question only about a thousand times. I found out through The Shadow's sources. She was actually in charge of his money laundering operations in the East End. I had to break it off. I took care of The Shadow's problem. He let her live, but closed down the operation. She spent about a month in jail, and after he posted her bail, Kingpin transferred her to Seattle. That gave me the perfect way out of the roman… the relationship; nobody would think it strange that a society guy dumps his girlfriend if she's just gone to the big house. I haven't seen her since she left. The more I thought about it, the more it seemed likely that she was in fact just trying to manipulate me. She was always making suggestions about Cranston businesses and accounts. Anyway, she left trying to decide how to get back in Kingpin's good books, and certain that I left her because she had a criminal record, and I tried to put her out of my head."

  "And now she's back in town." Said Peter; the grin subdued now.

  Stephen jerked again. "In town? You didn't tell me that!"

  Peter handed him the note. "The number she left is local."

  Stephen let out a sound like a strangled sob.

  "What do we do?" asked Peter finally. "She could be working for Kingpin still."

  "I KNOW THAT!" snapped Stephen. "We busted up the money laundering ring last night. Kingpin is going to need somebody to take over the operations. And she is experienced."

  "We better find out fast. Nothing would get her back in good graces with the Kingpin faster than handing him Cranston Enterprises as a money-laundry on a silver platter."

  The mix of embarrassment and outrage conveyed in Stephen's glare made him grin again. The way that Stephen balled his fists and moved into an attack posture made him gulp.

  "What…exactly…are you implying?" growled Stephen.

  "Well, don't take this personally, but I have to ask, for both our sakes, are you still in love with her?"

  "No." Stephen said simply. "I stopped caring about her that way when she left for Seattle and didn't let me know until a week after she arrived."

  "Ouch." Commented Peter. "Do you think she'll try to get to you, or is this just a social 'Hi-I'm-in-town-want-to-meet-for-lunch?' call?"

  "That would largely depend on where she stands with Kingpin. If she is trying to get Kingpin a new money machine, and has her designs on Cranston Industries, then this could be her plan of attack. The crazy witch always was conniving and manipulative that way. If she wanted to she could be perfectly sincere and caring one second, then rip your heart out and feed it to her hell hounds for a chew toy the next."

  Peter let out a low whistle and grinned again. "No, no bitterness there. She really did get under your skin didn't she?"

  Stephen gritted his teeth at the memory. "Well, lets say she was a touch…vindictive. Whenever she came over to the manor she suggested that I move Uncle Victor to a home, and when I said no she might have slashed the tires and keyed the paint on all my limos. And maybe she tried to take over the kitchen and the closets, the staff complained and she told them that I had fired them. All the while seeming completely innocent. Can you believe she was so subtle that I only found all this out after she left?"

  "You two seem made for each other."

  Stephen continued the possibilities, mostly to himself. "On the other hand, she could be completely innocent. She may have gone straight, and just be in New York for a whole other reason. We have to find out."

  "Well, we could put an agent on her."

  "No." said Stephen flatly. "I'll handle this one personally."

  Peter was silent for a long moment. "You sure you're over her?"

  Stephen stared at the costume locker, where The Shadow's costume was kept. "Pete, when The Shadow busted her operation, he risked my girlfriend's life. This situation has just hit a nerve, okay?"

  "Okay sure. But promise me, if something is going on, when it actually hits the fan, I'll be there to back you up."

  Stephen grinned. "I promise Peter. We've been through this before, we're in this together."

  "Okay" said Peter "where do we start?"

  "Well, the main thing to do, is to figure out, why she is contacting me, and is she still working for Kingpin. I can take care of the first, simply by answering her message." He shivered again. "I want you to do a trace on her phone. She has a cell phone, I'll give you the number, and you can call it, trace her location. Do it tomorrow morning. Make up some story. If she's at any of Kingpin's companies, we'll start tracking her."

  "Okay, in the meantime though, you might want to embrace the idea of a first person-singular. I mean, you are aware that The Shadow is you, right?"

  "Okay, I'm leaving."

  "I hear that psychiatrists use a twelve-step program to separate split personalities."

  "Goodbye Pete."

  "You're going to go answer that message?"

  "No, I'll do that tomorrow. Tonight, The Shadow is going to find some drug dealers and vent his frustration."

  Stephen left his Sanctum, leaving Peter to contemplate the painful twist the day had taken.