Gwen found herself frowning as she watched the morning news.

Apparently the fire she had helped with wasn't just a one off. In the past week alone several more incidents had popped up all over Gotham with seemingly no common cause. It wasn't the work of an arsonist like Firefly because the villain was currently cooling his heels in Belle Reve after his last crime spree. And as far as anyone could tell it wasn't the result of a normal arsonist either since the news went out of the way to mention that no accelerants or other signs of people intentionally starting a fire were present.

The only thing that seemed to be consistent was the speed at which the fire spread and the fact that whatever was causing the flare ups in the first place occurred at several points in the building simultaneously.

It was a mystery, but not one Gwen was equipped to deal with.

That didn't mean she couldn't help out. Barbara and Dick were probably going to be investigating the source of the fires. She could keep an eye out on the streets for them while they did that.

Something to ask about coordinating later.

On that note, Gwen sighed and turned off the television. The mystery fires could wait. She had other very important things to do right now.

-o-

"That will be $58.15." The cashier said as he finished ringing up the groceries.

Gwen wordlessly pulled out a trio of twenties and handed them over, even if mentally she was complaining how expensive good cheese was. But unless she'd rather live off takeout most of the time it was a necessary evil.

Gathering up the two reusable bags – doing her duty to save the environment – Gwen walked out of the store and prepared herself for the walk home…just in time for the clouds above Gotham to decide now was a wonderful time to start raining.

"...well, dammit."

"It is pretty bad timing. Do you want a ride home, kid?" A familiar voice called out behind her.

"Detective Montoya!" Gwen smiled as she turned to face the older woman. "What are you doing here? I didn't think you lived close enough to shop here."

The detective huffed. "I don't, but this chain is the only one that carries the creamer I like so I try to stock up whenever I'm in the area. Anyway, want a ride?"

Gwen didn't need to think about it. "That would be awesome."

"Great, I'm just around the corner. Hopefully we don't get too wet on the way…"

A short run later, both of them were safely in Detective Montoya's car and only mildly damp. And after making sure everything was secure in the backseats they were headed back to Gwen's apartment in companionable silence.

"So what brought you out this way? Working on some exciting new case?"

At least until Gwen's curiosity got the better of her.

"Nothing important. Like I said, just picking up some coffee stuff." Detective Montoya said. "Mostly I was just dropping off some paperwork now that I'm getting rotated off the Ghost Spider Task Force."

"There's a Ghost Spider Task Force?" Gwen very carefully did not shriek. "I thought she was a hero?"

Detective Montoya 'hmm'd and waggled a hand. "It's a bit more complicated than that. Technically she and the Bats are all illegal vigilantes. Sure they stop the actual creeps and criminals from making a mess but what they are doing is against the law since they aren't a part of a sanctioned organization like the Justice League." She frowned. "Or at least I don't think Batman is a part of the League right now. That seems to change every week."

"Anyway helpful as they are, they're still breaking the law so we have a task force assigned to them. But unless one of them snaps and starts doing something the Joker would get a kick out of; it's mostly just a place to stick troublemakers and officers needing a break."

"Finally out of the doghouse then?"

"You're hilarious, kid." Montoya deadpanned.

Gwen just smiled and leaned away from a playful swat to the arm. Poking overly serious people in their pride was always fun.

"No, I was due some R and R for a while, but the department needs everyone we got so I was just moved to a more relaxed post to recharge for a bit. I feel a bit bad for the rest of the team though. Bullock is the one who took my place."

Gwen thought about the name for a bit. While her dad introduced her to a few of his friends on the force, that didn't mean she knew all of them by name. Ironically, it was the second set of inherited memories that gave her an answer first.

"Isn't he the fat guy that looks like every crooked cop stereotype at once and is paradoxically good at his job at the same time? The same guy that is always getting reported for taking bribes, excessive force, and is rumored to have organized crime connections but all IA could find was he needed a few sensitivity courses?"

Montoya laughed. "Yep, that's Harvey alright. Don't let him hear you say that though."

"What's so bad about him taking your spot though?"

"It's not bad. I said I feel bad because Harvey takes a hard line about Masks. While most members of the taskforce would take it as a working vacation, Harvey would love nothing more than to haul our latest vigilante in."

"Sounds like a fun guy." Gwen commented carefully. She also made a note to figure out how to avoid any cop on this taskforce for a while. The last thing she wanted to do was give the rest of the GCPD a reason to hunt her down for something and 'resisting arrest' sounded like a quick way for that to happen.

"He has his moments."

-o-

Ghost Spider was looking forward to a pretty relaxed night of web-swinging. The rain had stopped a while ago, but the Gotham streets were still wet and most people decided to stay inside rather than navigate the puddles covering the streets.

Most, not all.

The wall-crawler had already stopped three muggings, a carjacking, and helped pull a lady's sedan out of a pothole that she missed due to the water hiding it.

Slow day overall.

Of course, the rooftops were just as wet - if not more so - than the streets so Ghost Spider wasn't planning on spending too much more time outside. She would spend another hour or so patrolling…west, she decided she would head west today…and then she would turn in for the night.

She was just about to move on when a flash of movement in an alley caught her eye. Ghost Spider dropped her arm and leaned over the side of the roof to get a better look. Two men were digging through the alleyway like they were looking for something. What caught Ghost Spider's attention was that neither of them looked like one of the homeless looking for shelter or useful trash or gangers looking for a dead drop. In fact, one of them was even wearing a labcoat. And when a guy in a lab coat is poking around an alley in Gotham, that usually meant something bad was going on.

Rather than jump in without knowing what she was getting into, Ghost Spider silently crept down the wall, keeping to the shadows, and settled in to observe the two. She didn't know the guy in the lab coat - he looked of Indian descent going by his dark hair and brown skin. He was frantically digging through the piles of trash in one hand while looking at some kind of scanner in the other - but she did know his partner. That was her little cop friend Nick O'Hara! What was he doing out here?

Nick was holding some kind of cage or trap. Nothing that Ghost Spider could easily identify beyond being designed to hold something. Somehow she didn't think the two of them were looking for a stray pet or similar.

Curious.

And now she definitely wanted to know what they were up to.

"Umar, not that this isn't exactly what I want to do with my time off, but this isn't exactly what I want to do with my time off. Can you please tell me why we are digging through trash looking for some animals?"

"I already told you everything I could." Umar replied, his lightly accented voice sounding distracted. "Everything else is classified and could get you into a lot of serious trouble."

"And yet you're making me help you catch this thing anyway."

"I need the help! I have almost found them twice now, but they got away. And you owed me a favor."

"Giving my brother a recommendation for an internship doesn't really cover crawling through wet trash searching for an animal you won't even tell me what it is." Nick pointed out.

Umar's shoulders fell. "You are right. But I have no one else to turn to at the moment."

"Well, why not a friendly neighborhood superhero?"

Ghost Spider's eyes curled into crescents as the two men shrieked and practically jumped three feet in the air. She loved her job.

-o-

While the Falcone Fiasco had sent most of the remaining organized crime families to ground, that didn't mean that they had disappeared.

In a dark backroom hidden from all but a select few trusted subordinates a few members of one such family gathered to discuss the future.

"We need to send the white hats a message. Let them know that we're still the big dogs in the underworld." One scarred member growled, slamming his hand on the table.

"Falcone tried that. And we all saw what the result was." Another man commented.

"Because he ignored the pests disrupting our businesses. Much as I don't like the guy, if it wasn't for the freaks in tights we'd all be dead and he'd be ruling the place."

There were creaks as several of the men in the room leaned back in their chairs.

"You're talking about taking out the Bat." One of them accused. "We've tried that a thousand times. Didn't work when we had the local offices dancing to our tune, and let's face it, we don't have that kind of pull anymore."

The speaker shook his head. "No, I agree. The Bat is too big to hit right now. Him and the rest of the Bat Brigade have connections too. Take one of them out and more freaks will pour in. No, better wait until we frame one of the other groups. Let them take the heat."

"Who then? Cause the blues are circling wagons after Falcone targeted them. We do the same so soon after a lot of us might 'fall down some stairs' if we get dragged in."

A photograph was tossed onto the table, showing a fit young woman in a full-body black and white costume with red accents and electric blue shoes swinging from a silk rope.

"You're kidding. We just went over how the Bats have connections we can't deal with."

"But the Spider isn't one of them. Yeah she works with them, but definitely not a member."

One of the men threw up his hands. "Great, the freaks are only friends not coworkers. I'm sure the Bats won't give a damn in that case!"

"The difference…" the speaker growled. "...is that even if the Bats get pissed, at most they will be able to borrow some sidekicks to get revenge. It won't end with a kryptonian scouring the city and rooting out every operation they can find." He paused and straightened up. "Especially if we pin the blame on someone else. The freaks will burn them out and head home. The Bats might try to step things up but we know how they work. To an extent."

"The Spider helped take down Metallo." Another man pointed out.

"The Spider got shanked by him. Supergirl was the one to beat him."

Truthfully, none of the men at the table knew exactly what happened in that fight. But a lot of people had seen Ghost Spider getting rushed out by Supergirl and there had been a lot of blood. The stories spread from there.

"...okay, fine. Say we're on board with this. How do we stop this from getting back to us?"

"Simple. We use a professional."

As if on queue, a knife speared the table right where the picture was. All the men jerked and hands went to weapons while they looked for the owner of the knife.

"Looking in the wrong direction, gents." A new voice said jokingly. "Should have looked up."

They all followed the direction and looked on the ceiling where a man in a tight dark purple and black suit with orange lenses and a black spider on his forehead was standing. Standing upside down.

"Who are you!?" Someone demanded.

"Black Spider, at your service." The man in the bodysuit said with a mocking bow before detaching from the ceiling and falling lightly to the table below. "Thief, mercenary, infiltration specialist, and more importantly for you lot, assassin."

"Never heard of you."

"Of course you haven't! If you heard of me without me doing a job, that would mean my bosses would need to have a word with you. Trust me, you don't want that."

"No?"

"Oh no, no one ever really likes getting the attention of the League of Shadows. Not sure why…" Black Spider mused while plucking the knife from the table. For those curious enough to look, the blade had gone directly through the heart of the woman in the photo.

"The Shadows!" A man hissed. "There's no way we can afford one of them right now."

"Yes! Correct!" Black Spider said loudly, causing all the men in the room to twitch as he brandished a knife. "But see, this job is a bit special. I'm running a bit of a discount right now because–" *THUNK* "–I don't like copycats. Especially ones ruining my bad name." The mobsters swallowed and looked between the knife now lodged in the photo where Ghost Spider's head was and the flat orange lenses of the assassin. "So…who's interested in getting rid of a pest?"