Glass had come to Wales for a vacation.

It wasn’t the typical kind of vacation. Technically, she was there for a work conference. But she had decided to, at least as long as she was in Wales, take a break from her vigilante activities. It was surprisingly relaxing. She could use her spare time, instead of invisibly spying on people or researching local criminal activities and fighting styles, to watch television or read that novel she’d been meaning to get around to

Spicy was in Wales because she lived there.

She wasn’t on vacation. She wasn’t going to a work conference, as she was too young and immature for such a meeting. And she wasn’t taking a break from her responsibilities at the Junior Agency. It was not relaxing. In her spare time, she would have to spy on people, research the local criminal activity in Wales, and train in various fighting styles, instead of watching TV or reading a book like she had been wanting to do for a while.

No one expected these two to meet.

“The customer is always right,” the corporate person said. He was standing in front of the crowd. Glass pretended to write down something in her notebook. She was really just doodling.

Mike passed her a note. We’re all going out on the town this evening, come with?

Sure, Glass wrote back.

She faked interest in the rest of the conference, went back to the hotel for a change of clothes, then met the group in the lobby. They were mostly middle-aged white men, but Mike was only ten years older than Glass. He’d taken Glass under his wing, to an extent, when she’d first joined the team, and now they were work buddies.

They headed out into the mostly quiet streets of Minnesota, Wales. They visited a pub, where they sat around talking, most of them drinking. Glass didn’t drink anything herself, but she enjoyed the general stupor that came with not being a vigilante. After all, she justified to her subconscious, this wasn’t her country. It wasn’t her responsibility to watch the streets here.

Then, in the dark of the street outside, she saw a shadow move.

It moved low to the ground, prowling in a definitively suspicious way.

She stood up absently, focused on the figure. “I’m going to go get some air,” she said.

“Okay,” Mike said, utterly used to her disappearing at random times.

Glass stepped out into the street. She found a dark alley to disappear in, then stalked invisibly towards the prowling figure.

Spicy, on one of her practice spying walks, couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being followed. She paused and looked around, not spotting anything out of the ordinary. Then she noticed that her shadow was out in the open.

“Crap.” she stepped farther back where her shadow wouldn’t show, and continued on her practice course.

Glass followed, by this point somewhat confused, but intrigued. This didn’t seem like a villain.

Spicy progressed into another alleyway, pretending someone was following her so her mind would pick out the best directions to take to lose people.

They took a long side passage, followed by a series of sharp turns, then went under a bridge, very quickly.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Glass scowled, following her closely. It seemed almost as if… she knew she was there and was trying to lose her! Under the bridge was tricky— it was hard to go through the water without making noise or causing ripples. Then, to her surprise, she lost the mysterious figure. She searched the nearby streets, on top of the bridge, on the surrounding rooftops, everywhere it seemed. Flabbergasted, she finally turned visible and sat down on a curb. This had, as far as she could tell, been just a kid. What was going on here?

In a secret hideout under the bridge, Spicy smirked. Take that invisible people! She thought triumphantly. Bubbles. She took out her super-secret stash of bubbles, and pulled out a bottle. Blowing a bubble, she sat down in her bean bag chair, and listened to the outside. Her hideout provided a marvelous chamber for listening to the outside world. She didn’t expect to hear footsteps so soon. They were going everywhere, soft and persistent. They were almost ominous. Holy cow!!! There are invisible people!!! I kinda want to see that— She stopped when she realized the irony of the thought.

Being as sneaky as she could possibly be, she crawled out of her secret hideout, still listening, trying to pinpoint the source. They’d stopped moving. She cautiously peeked around the corner of the bridge, and saw someone sitting on the curb looking flabbergasted. She was a worn-out looking blonde, wearing a loose T-shirt and jeans. Her blue eyes searched the night relentlessly, even as she rested her head on her hands in a frustrated gesture.

Silently crawling out from the bridge, Spicy approached the figure.

“Who are you, and why were you following me?”

The piercing eyes searched her curiously. “How did you know I was?”

“Honestly, I didn’t. I was pretending I was losing someone who was following me. Did I do good?”

“Yeah.” The blonde said, surprised.

“Glad to hear it. Now answer my questions.”

The blonde pointed her nose skyward. “No.”

“Even if I told the authorities there’s an invisible menace roaming the streets of Minnesota, Wales?”

“Especially not then. They wouldn’t believe you, anyways. Genetic manipulation of humans has been illegal for decades.”

“You'd be amazed at how credible a source I am. Illegal things happen a lot here in this part of Wales.”

The blonde scowled. “Trust me to pick a hotspot as my vacation destination.”

“I don’t trust anyone until they’ve proven themselves”

“That’s my line. Anyways, prove myself as what?”

“An ally.”

The blonde sighed. She didn’t like how self-serious this girl was. “Is anyone ever anyone else's true ally? It’s a dog eat dog world.”

“I’m not a dog, and I don’t eat dogs. That’s messed up.”

The blonde stood up. “Lookie here, junior, I’m not telling you anything I don’t want to tell you.”

“Lookie here, senior. I’ve only really told you that I don’t eat dogs. I think you can tell me who you are.”

“Fine. My name is… Stevette.”

“You’re kidding. No one is that cruel to name their child that.”

“My mom always called me Stevie,” Stevie said with a false air of nostalgia. “Anyways, there are much worse things you can do to children.”

“Fine. If you won’t tell me your name, tell me why you were following me?”

Stevie sniffed. “You seemed suspicious. That makes my spidey senses tingle.”

“Okay spider-girl. Well… Ghost Spider would be more accurate I guess. I’m the one who keeps crime in check in this town”

“You may call me Ghost Spider, if you wish,” Stevie said loftily. “Of course, I would prefer Stevie: brings back such pleasant childhood memories… In any case, you can have the blasted town. I’m on vacation, anyways.”

“I was trying to imply that you don’t have to follow me.”

“In the future, I won’t.”

She stalked off, turning invisible in a silent, visual ripple.

Spicy sat back on her heels. She’d never met such a temperamental person. She’d never met someone who could turn invisible either.

Shrugging it off, she turned and went back into her secret lair.