Chapter 3: Debt Collection

Ravencroft tried to be warm and relaxing. The walls were painted in pale yellows and bright blues. The lights were bright and the staff in their clean white coats tried to be as friendly as they could. Ravencroft failed. It still smelled like a hospital. The steel bars on the windows and the heavy locks on the doors intimidated. Dr. Ashley Kafka's heels clicked as she walked alongside Dr. Miles Warren and Mr. J Jonah Jameson. Kafka's purpose here was as a healer. She was a psychiatrist and neurologist. Her compatriots were here for other purposes.

Dr. Miles Warren was among the best geneticists in the world. His papers that she had read were quite groundbreaking, astonishing and frightening. Dr Kafka noticed a clear clinical detachment in the man. She understood him professionally but was quite opposed to him personally. She inferred that he was unhindered by ethical concerns. She suspected his brilliance could be downright nefarious. She would have preferred to work with Dr. Connors. Regrettably, Kurt had left with his wife and son to Florida. Ashley was stuck with Miles. She despaired her patients could be in more caring hands, however she admitted they could not be in more capable ones.

Jonah visited his son John at least three times a week. His gruff demeanor, short temper and caustic vocabulary were forgiven in light of the care he showed for his son. She had suffered his spitting vitriol several times. Healing takes time and even then, the chemical damage to John's brain was likely permanent. Despite the newspaperman's periodic conniptions, Dr Kafka wished most of her patients had someone who cared half as much as Jonah did. John was calm today thanks to light sedation.

"He's doing better, but not well," Dr Kafka explained. "He continues to work himself into a frenzy whenever he's lucid. I've prescribed sedatives twice daily. I had hoped to cut back to once daily, but..."

"Yes, thank you doctor," Jonah grumbled off waving away the psychiatrist. He glared at his son. John sat in a patient's gown playing checkers with a giggling gaunt redheaded man.

"You said you have an answer to Spider-man?" Jameson turned towards Dr Warren after Dr Kafka set off to perform her rounds.

"Indeed, Mr Jameson," Dr Warren opened a steel bound folder that contained highly sensitive and dangerous information. Jameson took it out of Warren's hands and chewed on his cigar. The orderlies always confiscated his matches whenever he visited.

"How am I supposed to figure out what this data means!" Jonah startled several patients when his voice carried through the sound suppressing windows.

"It means, sir, that I believe I can reproduce the Spider-man." Warren said calmly.

"And? You want to add to the plague of masked madmen wreaking havoc?" Jonah snarled.

"No, I believe I can create a proper foil to the Spider-man. One who can unmask him and bring him to justice."

"Yeah? So why don't you?"

"Such a process would take considerable resources," Warren said smartly, "A positive media response, and a subject willing to undergo the operation."

"Money, you people always want money!" Huffed Jonah. "It'd be easier just to put up the money as a bounty on the insufferable webhead's head."

"There are several benefits for your own position, Mr Jameson," Warren continued, "First you'd have on the ground coverage for your newspaper, secondly you'd be known as the man who stopped the Spider and finally, this operation may provide more insight in how to restore your son."

"I don't take kindly to those who would use my family against me." Jonah warned. "Or worse, a snake oil salesman who thinks he wave some miracle cure as some means open my checkbook."

"Of course not. And I cannot promise you a cure. I just believe that this will give me some insight into the cause of the damage in your son's brain. Science is not an instantaneous process."

"Excuses, excuses." Jonah grumbled, "You're going to help my son. We're going to put a swift end to the webhead and I'm going to celebrate." He smiled darkly around his cigar stub. Miles Warren and J. Jonah Jameson shook hands.

Spider-man yawned. Tears of drowsiness were forming under the eyepieces of his mask as he made his Monday morning swing to M3. Spring Break had been the most confusing time of Peter Parker's life. He had broken curfew all week trying to chase down a stray Cat. It was a tiring and fruitless effort. Making sure he was there to say goodnight to Aunt May and then swinging out the window for some late night street sweeping. When he caught a criminal he couldn't even post the pictures, as he was supposed to be in bed.

Pictures. He had a set of alluring Mary Jane Watson poses and a set of heart-stopping Black Cat candids. Redundant passwords protected both, though MJ knew of both. He hadn't seen her all weekend either. He dropped down into the Midtown parking lot and discreetly changed out of sight. Sighing, he walked to school.

"As I live and breathe! Peter Parker before the morning bell!" Harry Osborn greeted his best friend on the front steps near the iced over fountain. Harry was looking tan. His green eyes and bright smile returned to him. His winter coat hung open, a cup of coffee warmed his hands.

"Hey Har," Peter smiled back. He settled himself on the steps next to Harry. His old friend was being personable and looking well. He was also talking to Peter. Could life be taking a turn for the better? With the Parker luck? Pshaw! "How was the trip?"

"It was good." He slurped on his coffee, "Gwen and I couldn't get into any of the wild beach parties but I really doubt they were her scene. Saw the sights, had some great food, hit a few beaches and bombed around at Disney World for a day."

"Sounds like a blast," Peter couldn't imagine a better week. It had everything to do with girl.

"It was. Plus mom really needed it." Harry nodded. "How about you? Anything exciting?"

"Not much," Peter immediately thought of Cat and tried to underplay things. "A lot of Bugle and ESU lab work."

"Bo-ring," Harry sympathized. After one last loud drink, he threw his coffee towards a nearby garbage can. It rebounded off the lip and onto the walk. Back to good ol' Harry athleticism. At least his buddy was still off the Green.

"Your trip?" MJ appeared almost out of thin air. Peter flinched but smiled at the redhead. If only his Spider-sense was good for warning him about women.

"No, Gwen and I had a great time," Harry stood up. "Peter was just telling me about his break."

"Well I don't know how he got boring out of it." MJ apparently had a look as well. It was nothing so cutting as classic Gwen. Peter squirmed nonetheless.

"Oh, you guys didn't hook up, did you?" Harry misread the signs. He seemed genuinely happy. Like the face he had been wearing was carefully constructed and this beaming smile cut through the crap.

"No, not quite," MJ said with a small laugh, "We did have quite the memorable night though." Peter was about to comment when she kissed him warmly on his cheek. His speechlessness and goofy grin locked on her backside as she swayed inside.

"You'll have to explain what she's talking about later." Harry slung his bookbag over his shoulder. "C'mon Pete, I'll show you what class looks like when you arrive on time."

Peter! Liz Allan had watched the warm exchange with a twisted grimace. Last night had been the first night where she had made it through without crying. You play around with my brother and now you took my boyfriend! And I was worried about Gwen! Don't let me catch you alone you redheaded, boyfriend-stealing, two-faced--

"Liz!" Sally's voice cut through the not quite feeling like spring morning as she pulled her best friend into a hug from behind. She had been trying to force feed Liz a replacement boyfriend since her breakup and Liz just wasn't ready. "You'll never guess who's single!"

Rand Robertson followed his meddling girlfriend and the dejected Liz. He wisely kept his mouth shut.

"Mr Jameson," Betty Brant pulled her light jacket closed over her breasts, "Mr Gargan to see you."

"Thanks doll," Gargan oozed with a wink. Betty watched him go into Jameson's office as Robbie came out. Robbie made certain to close the door behind Gargan.

"What's that grease stain doing back here?" Betty scowled at the man's back.

"He's been begging and pleading to finish that assignment Jameson gave him." Robbie shook his head, "He's no use to anyone if you ask me, but Jameson has some scheme up his sleeve and Gargan's just lowered his rates."

"He's a disgusting little insect," Betty tried to be a nice person. Looked for the best in people. Didn't judge people by their looks. She believed that everyone had something worthwhile inside them somewhere. Mac Gargan was her crisis of faith.

"I couldn't agree more." Robbie and Jonah often had their differences. When it came to the paper, Jonah listened. When it came to Spider-man, Jonah did not listen.

"Robbie!" Jonah came out of his office with Gargan in tow, "I want to see some hustle out here. Mr Gargan and I are off on a side project. I expect the best!" The directions came without a hump as Jameson led Gargan out to the elevator.

"I'd never give you anything less," Robbie declared.

"I know, so get to it." Jameson's smile was disconcerting as he disappeared behind the elevator doors.

"Betty," Robbie turned to the secretary, "You may want to send Peter a text. You're friends, right?"

Betty's cheeks flushed as she had already pressed send. Robbie gave her a squeeze on the shoulder before he turned to the city desk and took the never-ending battle to Foswell.

"That's just great." Peter slumped into an empty cafeteria table and dropped his undercooked french fries and not-quite-fit-for-prison-inmates burger down in front of him. "A warning about a crazed psycho. At least this time it's my boss. Is it too much to hope for a friendly message or a sext or something?" Peter's grin turned up imagining such a message from Betty. Gwen and Harry set their food down across from him.

"What's wrong Peter?" Gwen asked, her vacation induced tan was not nearly as dark as Harry's. She brushed her hair behind her ear and flashed a worried but orthodontically perfect smile.

"Nothing, just a message from work." Peter growled.

"Pictures you need to take?" Harry asked. There was something damning in his question.

"No, Jameson hired some goon to follow me to find Spider-man," Peter explained, "I was kind of thinking that was over and done with."

"Oh," Gwen mumbled, "I can talk to dad about it if--"

"No, don't," Peter shook his head. "I can't really afford to lose the job."

"That's no reason to accept harassment!" Gwen reproached Peter, "Besides there are other papers and—"

"And if its money problems, I can always help out." Harry rolled over his girlfriend. Peter watched Gwen quiet up and felt a little angry. "Better than having my friend follow after Spider-murderer."

"Harry," Peter started feeling immediately uncomfortable. He really couldn't accept money from Harry and continue as Spider-man. He didn't want to nor did he think he should give up the Spider. Gwen would have been dead or worse without Spider-man. Spider-man wasn't going away anytime soon. He covered his sympathy with drive. "I got to do what I need to do. If that means snapping pictures of people you don't like so be it."

"Fine, but don't get yourself killed in this foolishness." Harry's worry was dripping in anger. Gwen interjected a new subject.

"Mary Jane says you helped her get the modeling gig?" Gwen looked brightly, "I'm still blown away by that."

"Yeah, it was crazy all right," Peter admitted. His mind turned to Roderick Kingsley. The man had wanted the specs to mass produce Rhinos. The man had taken over Oscorp. The man was dangerous. He worried for MJ.

"How'd you help her?" Harry asked. His fries had gone cold but that didn't stop him from mindlessly chewing on them.

"I shot her folio," Peter said, "They said she needed a professional photographer and I was in her price range."

"Sounds a lot better than Spidey pics." Condemned Harry.

Peter's mind flipped through his mental album of dirty Cat pictures. "It's close." He admitted.

"You've got the experience with The Bugle," Gwen said, "And the in with MJ, why not see if they'll hire you?"

"In with me where?" MJ appeared sans lunch and sat down next to Peter. She sat close enough that he could smell her shampoo and feel her thigh resting against his. He inhaled discreetly.

"At the modeling agency," Harry responded, "Congrats by the way."

"Thank you," She gave a short little curtsy in her seat.

"We were suggesting to Peter that it'd be a lot more fun and safe to shoot pictures of you rather than of Spider-man." Harry continued.

MJ's dirty smile told Peter she was recalling the Cat photos as well. "It'd be close."

The words raised Harry's eyebrows before they furrowed.

"I'm sure it'd be a weight off of May's shoulders too." Gwen piped in. She wanted to say how much she worried, but things with Harry were shaky, especially with him recovering from his addiction. She tried to be as discreet with her feelings as she could be. She wanted to say that chasing after supervillains and vigilantes was no way to look after a recent heart attack patient.

"I'll think about it. I am still on contract with the Bugle." He had signed it pretty quickly because of how much he needed and wanted the money. Now he was worried at how tough it would be to weasel out of. Of course, there was also the fact that if a Bugle reporter had to disappear because of a major battle downtown he was earning his paycheck. If Octopus started on a tear through Times Square, a fashion photographer might not have the same leeway.

"Well it can't hurt to talk to them," MJ nudged Peter, "Besides you'll like Vaughn-Pope. She's a total nerd."

"You know I also happen to like popular people too," He elbowed her ribs back and the pair shared a laughing smile. Gwen looked down at her shoes and held back a frown.

"Good morning, Dr Twaki[1]," Dr Miles Warren watched as four men entered his workspace. Dr Twaki had not been expected. Of course, Warren knew of the man by reputation, a brilliant biochemist, and of the three brilliant men who had put together the research initiative that is Tri-Corp. Dr Twaki greeted Dr Warren with an impersonal nod and was followed by a courier in a grey cap and green coveralls[2]. The courier pushed a hand truck carrying a Tri-Corp emblazoned trunk banded in steel.

"Are we ready Warren?" J Jonah Jameson had entered first and was already pacing around the laboratory while his disheveled companion poked at the glass of the spider display. His lab assistant, Debra Whitman, was busy with her masters classes and his high school interns were not due for hours. He could see no trouble, but he did not answer until the courier had left.

"We can begin provided Mr..."

"Gargan." Grumbled the man looking up from the spiders.

"Mr Gargan is prepared for the procedure." Dr Warren opened a fume hood where he had already measured and balanced the injections. He loaded the first vial into the needle gun.

"Excellent!" Jonah rubbed his hands picturing the capture of the webhead. "Not having cold feet are you Gargan?"

"You know me, boss," He shrugged out of his duster, "Anything at anytime when the payday is right."

"First we are going to inject you with a--" Miles began explaining the procedure in his academic tone but Gargan waved him off.

"I ain't need to know what's in it to make it all work do I?" He scowled.

"Of course not, Mr Gargan," Dr Warren readied the needle gun on Gargan's muscled forearm. The man's heavy jacket and mild slouch really disguised the sheer power underneath his skin. An excellent specimen.

"I must admit," Dr Twaki interrupted before Warren could depress the trigger mechanism, "I find this experiment to be highly unethical."

"How so?" Jonah growled, "Gargan knew what he was stepping up to. Lawyers even drafted the paperwork covering your, Warren's and my collective asses. Besides it ain't like no one's been doing this crap before. Only now we know that the end result isn't going to be some crazy villain but an upstanding hardworking flesh and blood New Yorker." Miles Warren shook his head when Jonah attempted to light his cigar. The newspaperman let out a strong growl. "You get to test your suit, Warren gets to find my boy a cure and I get to deal with Spider-mask once and for all."

"I'd like to add--"

"No need Dr Warren," Twaki raised his hand, "I was just making sure my misgivings had been stated and acknowledged. Proceed."

"About damned time," Mac Gargan muttered something about bickering housewives and eggheads. He seethed a quick inhalation as the first needle punctured his wrist. Warren followed with two others. He pocketed the nanotech control robots. There was no reason to consider Gargan a long term investment.

Since Warren had augmented Kravinoff, he had significantly improved the process. Kravinoff underwent gene treatment for weeks before the effects were visible. Gargan only had enough time to wince at the needles, turn to Jonah and laugh about the easiest two grand he ever made. Gargan convulsed, gripping his chest and kicking his legs out. Jonah was excited and angry but not panicking. Twaki's eyes widened and he stepped towards the door. The serum was arthropod, but due to Jonah's specifications it was centered around the aspects of one of nature's deadliest. Gargan felt his muscles release and contract as he howled. The muscle he carried had been bulky and it quickly slimmed into thinner, leaner, harder versions. His full height was obvious as he flexed and struggled back onto his stool. Sitting tall he was at nearly six foot two, a whole three inches taller than his natural slouch. His eyes had taken on a greenish quality from their natural brown. His hair was pasted to his head by sweat.

"How are you feeling Mr Gargan?" Warren asked when the man's breathing steadied.

"I'd kill for a milkshake and a steak," He grumbled, "And several dozen beers."

"That's your body demanding more protein," Warren explained. He left out the alcoholism, "Eat heartily for a few days."

"Will do," Gargan nodded with a wheeze. He steadied himself on the edge of the work bench, but his fingers sheared through the particle board and laminate. "Shit."

"A side effect," Nodded Warren, "Scorpions have vicious pincers and you'll notice your own grip having similar qualities."

"Well I'll have to get hookers more often now," Gargan announced. Jonah snarled.

"It's not over yet, Gargan!" He growled and pushed Twaki forward.

"Yes," Dr. Twaki reset his glasses upon his nose. "You are aware that Tri-Corp's weapon development has surrounded on body armor and weaponized suits. It was our prototype that was stolen and implemented by The Shocker and our Jupiter Suit that--"

"The man's not paying me to fail another class, Doc. Just suit me up."

"Of course," Twaki decided he was betting on Spider-man. The suit was contained in four parts. The first three were armored clothing, a shirt with sleeves and a hood, a set of gloves and full pants with boots. The final part was a segmented tail. It connected to the pants and was wired through the shirt to the hood. Sensors at his right shoulder and the base of his spine would accept signals commanding the weapon. The tail itself was extrapolated from Otto Octavius's work. Powered by a Megalo-Pak, it should hold out for nearly four years before it needed recharging. It was made to swing like a sledgehammer and implemented with a pick for extra destructive power and it carried a reservoir of compounds that could be expelled as an acidic blast. Dr Twaki attempted to help Gargan into the armor but the private dick pushed him backwards. Twaki managed to stay upright with Jonah's help.

"I can put on my own clothes, Doc," Snarled Gargan as he stripped down to his disgustingly spotted boxing shorts. The pants fit like a second skin, impressive because of how his muscle mass had changed through the process. The shirt was only slightly looser but when he pulled the hood up around his hair it hissed and clung tight to his body. He snagged on the gloves and tested them. They kept him from ripping things apart with his hands. The tail was a two man job. He snarled at Twaki, so Warren connected it.

"You going to be ready for Tomorrow, Gargan?" Jameson demanded.

"Be there with bells on boss," He grinned. Warren sighed. Gargan's excitement destroyed the edge of one of his work benches with a blow from the tail. Jonah was mad-eyed and giddy. Gargan was feeling powerful for the first time in his life. Twaki was quiet and reserved. Warren was looking forward to Gwen and Peter arriving so this mess could get cleaned up.

The Vault was New York's answer to supervillains. It was centered in the deepest parts of Riker's Island penitentiary. Specially designed cells to handle any of the supercriminal element that had been popping up in the city. Rhino lay in his cell, snoring despite the aggravating electronic voice that responded to any and all stimuli with the threat of tranquilizing gas. Liz Allan was glad, she didn't like Rhino's eyes on her when she came to visit her brother. Her eyes were red, she had been crying on the cab ride over and she hadn't managed to mask the fact by touching up her makeup. One guard carried a steel chair, one of the ones wrestlers battered each other with. They arrived in front of Molten Man's cell.

"Please stand back from the door or suppressing foam will be released to detain Allan comma Mark." The voice declared.

"I know," grumbled Mark. He had been pacing, he had little to occupy his time in prison. He had access to books and exercise equipment, but not the general population. He always imagined that it would be better to be left alone in prison. Two guards a day and whoever delivered his food and reading materials were all the company he could guarantee. It didn't matter that someone else controlled his superpower. While he was a supervillain, he was alone. Liz's visits were the only thing keeping him sane. One month down, only one hundred and nineteen left.

The guard set up the chair in Mark's cell. Liz Allan took the guard's offered hand as she stepped up over the door seal and settled into the chair. He gave her the standard warning about leaning too far back because she'd get her pretty hair full of extinguisher foam. She smiled politely, the guard was friendly in his condescending way. The door shut behind her and the computer voice assured all parties it was closed.

"I know," The Allan siblings mumbled together. It had become a shared joke with them and Liz really needed to smile.

"You look like you've been crying, Lizzie," Mark reached out and brushed her cheek. "You still hung up on Peter?"

"I saw another girl kiss him today," She said like a knife in her chest.

"He was never good enough for you anyway," Mark reiterated, "You deserve the best."

"I can't believe that's what he said when he broke up with me!" Liz growled. "I know it was to get with Gwen. If I'm too good for him, than what the hell did she do to be so foul!"

It wasn't enough that Gwen was smarter and more interesting than Liz. No, Gwen was beautiful. She had hid it for years under heavy sweatshirts and baggy pants. Her beautiful eyes tucked away behind thick glasses. Her gorgeous hair wasted in a utilitarian ponytail. Why couldn't the nerdy bitch have an acne problem or something? Liz slumped down.

"Don't go comparing yourself to Gwen," Mark would hug her but there were strict no touching rules and he already pushed those to the limit by rubbing her cheek. "Besides she's still with Harry, right?"

"Yeah," Liz mumbled, "But this was worse. Now Pete's all touchy feely with Mary Jane Watson."

"MJ?" Mark narrowed his eyes. He was still pissed that his lawyer couldn't get her in to see him. Not that conjugal visits were a right of unmarried, underage supercriminals. "The fucking bitch. It's been four weeks! That--"

"Voices will be lowered or suppressing foam will be released to contain Allan comma Mark." The voice rang.

"I know," Mark and Liz seethed, but more quietly.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure she slept with him over spring break." Liz growled. "You can just see the difference in how Peter moves like that."

"You never slept with him, right?" Mark asked, it was fearful and forceful.

"No," Liz sighed. She would have, had he made their dates or tried anything. She and Flash had been hot and heavy all sophomore year. "You and MJ?"

"Yeah, pretty much every opportunity we got." Of course he's going to brag about it. Liz was starting to hate MJ. She had never been this angry at anyone other than Mark. His gambling had destroyed his life and she saw it coming. But that was a hot worrisome rage. The kind of anger you can only have when you can't help someone from making a terrible mistake. The anger she had for Gwen and for MJ was seething with envy and hurt. The anger she held for Peter was the only way to keep herself from going back to him.

"She any good?" Liz had to ask something. Sex was an odd topic with her brother but so long as they didn't discuss her problems Mark never thought twice about it.

"Yeah! She's as hot and fiery as her hair." Mark's reminiscence was bittersweet. The thoughts of fire brought him to his predicament. Maybe he should have busted out when the goblin lighted him up last time. Now Osborn was dead and he was stuck in a ten year sentence. He longed to hug Lizzie, but that foam was terrible and they'd spray him if he made any attempts to hold her.

"Well, I'm glad for you," Liz said. "Has mom or dad come to visit yet?"

"No," Mark fell back against the wall. "Haven't seen them since the trial."

"I'll talk to mom again. She wants to come," Liz was quiet.

"Yeah but dad says I'm not worth saving." Mark sneered.

"Miss Allan, times up." The guard appeared at the door and rapped it with his truncheon.

"But! There was no way that was ten minutes." She pleaded.

"I'm sorry, miss, but time is time." The door was opening and the guard had his right hand resting on his stun gun.

"I'll see you in a few days, I promise!" Liz reached in and gave Mark a quick hug around his shoulders. The guard stated "No Touching." but without enthusiasm. Liz said goodbye once again and Mark just nodded. Liz walked off, thinking on their little conversation. When she got into the next cab, her face was stony and her eyes were dry.

Peter Parker woke early for a Tuesday. Last night's Spider-manning had been a bust. No street crime, no supervillains, exhausted and bored he called it a night by nine. It was a hard decision, part of him wanted to stay out all night every night until he found Black Cat. After settling in back at school, talking to Harry and Gwen, being around MJ, part of him hoped he could put Cat's crazy fling behind him. Aunt May was up and about preparing in the kitchen. Dr Bromwell had said she was fit as a fiddle but Peter still fussed whenever he saw her hard at work. The thick smell of bacon and eggs told him it was about to be a delicious duty to perform. He heard the paperboy dropping the Bugle on his doorstep and opened the door in his undershirt and boxers.

"An Invitation to Spider-man. The Daily Bugle Wants You to Tell Your Side of The Story" The two line headline was less hard hitting than Threat or Menace! Peter shook his head. What kind of idiot did Jolly Jonah take Spidey for? Betty's text message yesterday and this obvious trap today. Good news all around. Peter was starting to feel like a Parker again.

"Good morning Aunt May," Peter greeted his aunt warmly. He had the Daily Bugle under his arm. He sat down and turned to the funnies.

"Good morning Peter," May said with an ebullient happiness, "I didn't expect you up for half an hour. Breakfast isn't quite ready yet."

"Speaking of which, bacon isn't entirely heart-smart." Peter turned down the corner of the Bugle and gave a correcting look to his aunt.

"I know Peter," May laughed, "The bacon is for you. I made myself a healthy breakfast, although it wouldn't hurt you to try eating a little more healthfully."

"I'll have an apple with the eggs, bacon, cheese and biscuits." He promised.

"Oh, Peter," She shook her head smiling.

Liz arrived at Midtown with Rand and Sally, Flash and Sha Shan, and Kenny and Glory. She watched with envy as the three couples laughed and talked and touched. She cut away from her group as soon as they passed the courtyard. She watched them walk off ungratefully as she settled down onto the fountain's lip. The cold stone bit through her green and black skirt. Her leggings were drawing the eyes of many the school's young men but she didn't see one. Mary Jane Watson had arrived.

"MJ!" She waved the redhead over to her. Green eyes looked with surprise and interest at Liz. Shrugging the redhead walked over and sat down next to her most recent boyfriend's sister.