Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Everything is finally coming up Parker.” Peter thinks to himself as he swings through the city, the heaters in his suit fighting against the cold, winter air attempting to knife through the fabric. “It’s a little weird,” he admits. “I’ve gotten so used to being god's personal punching bag that relative peace feels almost like a set up.” In the distance, Peter hears the sound of rapid gunfire and sighs to himself. Peace for him doesn’t mean peace for New York City.

Peter quickly changes direction midair, contorting his body and shooting a web to a nearby apartment building, using his momentum to turn towards the gunshots. “Where’re the baddies?” Peter mutters as he swings, barely skimming the ground. A few passersby on the ground wave to him and Peter waves back with his free hand.

“There are reports of shots fired at the Metropolitan Museum,” Peter's custom AI, Karen, chirps from the speaker in his mask. “Police are already on the scene. Should I alert Captain Watanabe you’ll be swinging by?"

Peter lets go of his web and runs across a rooftop before responding. “Nah, let's surprise her,” Peter smiles under his mask as he vaults off the rooftop and catches himself on another web. “And don’t think I missed your attempt at a pun. A few more years and you’ll almost sound human.” He jokes. As he travels his mind drifts back to this weird stroke of luck he’s had. A year ago his mind was yanked from his own body by Otto Octavius and forced to watch from the background as Otto piloted his body like a sick puppet. And now, he’s engaged to the most beautiful woman in NYC, Mary Jane Watson. The thought of her causes Peter's heart to flutter. “I’m lucky,” The words seem almost foreign to him even in his own mind. “I’m one lucky bitch”

Peter shoots a web, connecting to the steel frame of the newest Parker Industries building. Otto built the business from the ground up using Peter’s tech and body to gain traction. Ever since Peter’s been back, though, he’s grown it into a global leader in advanced technologies, clean energy, and defense contracts.

Granted, it hasn’t been fully smooth sailing. When Otto was in control he claimed that Spider-Man was Peter Parker's bodyguard, a charade Peter had tried to keep up with. Turns out keeping track of someone else's lies is harder than knocking out Tombstone. Peter ultimately stood tall during a press conference and told the truth: Peter Parker is Spider-Man.

To save himself the media backlash – and to spare Gwen Stacy in HR the panic attack– he cut a deal with SHIELD. As long as they continued to back him, he would continue to provide them technology.

Peter runs along a billboard playing Just the Facts with J Jonah Jameson and he rolls his eyes at JJs voice. “That menace Spider-Man, revealed to be million dollar defense contractor Peter B. Parker, is now allied with SHIELD! His biggest customer!” He booms from the speakers. “Shouldn't we all be worried that an unlicensed, untrained vigilante may have his own secret plans in the works?”

Peter lifts up his mask slightly to spit on pixels that make up JJs face. “Got a little something in your ‘stache JJ,” he quips before jumping from the billboard and landing across the street from The Metropolitan Museum. He walks to the edge of the rooftop and looks at all the police cars stationed around the buildings. “This is where the fun begins,” he mumbles to himself as he drops down on a web to the street level.

When Peter reaches the ground a few police officers wave in his direction, all of them looking extra puffy today because of the jackets and bulletproof vests they all wear under their uniforms. “Hey Johnston!” Peter waves an officer over. “Where’s Yuri?”

“I think she’s over near the front,” He points in the general direction and Peter follows his outstretched finger. “Mr. Parker,” The cop calls after him and Peter turns around. “I mean- shit, Spider-Man” The cop mumbles. “Listen, can I get a quick photo for my kid? He’s a big fan.”

Peter snickers to himself as he jogs back over to the cop and holds up a peace sign. The cop quickly fumbles through his layers of clothing to grab his phone. Once the picture’s been taken, Peter walks over to Yuri. He notices her rubbing her hands and blowing into them to keep warm. He makes a small mental note to start working on heaters for the police force when he gets back to the lab.

“Spider-Man,” The captain says as he walks up behind her. “Glad you could fit us in your busy schedule,” She says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Yuri Watanabe has been Peter's police contact and occasional friend for the last 8 years. A relationship Otto ruined and Peter has been working to fix ever since.

“Now Yuri…” Peter casually leans against her cop car. “Haven’t we known each other long enough for you to call me Peter?”

“Stop crashing my crime scenes and maybe we can talk first names.”

Peter gestures to the cops milling around the street, awaiting orders. “And here I thought you were waiting for me to start the party.” Yuri rolls her eyes and starts to bring Peter up to speed on everything they know so far.

“The silent alarm was tripped 6 minutes ago and the loud alarms 4 minutes ago.”

Peter interjects. “Thats the gunshots I heard.”

“Correct. We have reason to believe that they may have hostages hence why we haven’t entered yet to neutralize the threat. Since you’re here, you might as well help out.”

“Why, Ms. Watanabe, it would be my utmost pleasure to help out New York’s finest.” He jumps on top of her car and shoots a web, connecting with one of the pillars of the building. Just before he jumps, Yuri calls out to him. “Hey!” Peter turns around, expecting more information. The captain's voice drops, the cold authority it normally holds replaced with a warm, almost caring tone. “Be safe in there, Peter.”

Peter winks at her, the lens on his suit mimicking the motion. “I always am.”

“Ugh, that eye thing will never not be weird.” She waves him off. Peter jumps off the cop car, swinging away. “Spidercop to the rescue” he says, keeping his voice low and gravely, eliciting a groan from the police captain. He smiles to himself as he lands on the building and starts looking for a way in.

Chapter Text

Peter crawls around the building until he spots a human-sized circle of glass cut out from one of the observation windows. He enters the museum, crawling into the dark foyer, easily blending into the shadows. He starts to look around for anything that might be out of place, a difficult task in the low light. “Karen, scan for anomalies,” he whispers as he detaches from the ceiling. Bracing for the landing, he settles into a crouch the moment his feet hit the floor.

“One anomaly detected: a stuffed black cat toy inside the east display box. I’m highlighting it on your HUD now.” Karen replies. A small highlighted silhouette appears in the glass box holding one of the paintings that was newly liberated from Kingpin's personal collection. Peter walks over and looks through the glass, groaning when he sees the stuffed animal. It’s the same one Felicia used to use as a calling card. But she went straight months ago, so who’s stealing her shtick?

Peter searches for a few moments longer, checking different rooms and dark corners a burglar could be hiding in. “Where’s the copycat?” He mutters to himself. Suddenly, he feels a slight tingle at the base of his skull, warning him that someone is behind him.

“Would you settle for the original?” Felicia Hardy’s velvet voice fills the room, followed shortly by her distinct scent of lilacs and leather. She walks up and gently slips an arm around Peter's waist, fur collar of her costume brushing against the fabric of his mask as her head rests on his shoulder,

He lets out a small sigh and pulls away, just out of arms reach. “Don’t I pay you enough that you don’t have to steal?” Peter folds his arms and glares at her behind his mask.

Felicia pouts in his direction. “What? A girl can’t have a hobby?” She teases, her voice filled with fake innocence. “Besides,” she reaches into one of the many pouches around her waist and pulls out a flashdrive, “It’s not always about the money, Tiger.” She winks in Peter’s direction.

Peter stiffens at the nickname, the hairs on his arm raising in response. She knows he hates when she tries to imitate MJ. He increases the distance between them. “There were reports of shots here,” Peter gets straight to business. “Possible hostages. That’s not your style. Who are you working with?”

“If I wanted an interrogation, I’d let the cops catch me,” Felicia purrs as she closes the gap Peter created. She runs a finger down his costumed chest. “C’mon, don’t you miss it? The chase, the mystery…” She lets her voice trail off, eyes glittering with mischief as she tilts her head towards him. “Me?” she finishes in a sultry tone. Peter grabs her wrist and moves it away from his chest. “Answer the question,” he snaps.

Felicia rolls her eyes before leaning against one of the display cases. Peter notices on his HUD that the silent alarm didn’t go off and he assumes she cut the power to this wing of the museum. “If you must know,” Felicia speaks, bringing Peter's attention back to her. “I came to retrieve some files that a mutual friend of ours hid within his art collection.”

She walks throughout the small room, running a clawed finger across the glass exhibits, leaving scratches with every step. Peter resists the urge to web her hand to the nearest wall. “What’s on these files?”

“Oh you know…” she flips her hair to the other side. “The buyer didn’t say. Just that it’s important.”

Peter scowls. “I know damn well you did your own research. What’s on-” Peter's interrupted by his spider sense screaming at him one word: duck. He dives to the floor just as bullets rip through the air where he was standing seconds ago. A low, grinding laugh fills the air. “The spider and the cat, back together again,” the deep voice says, thick with a New York accent.

“Tombstone,” Peter stands up again. “Long time no see. Is that a new shade of grey? It really brings out the lack of life in your eyes.” He looks over at Felicia, a silent agreement to work together passing between them.

“Enough with the jokes,” Tombstone locks eyes with Peter through the mask as more of his goons walk into the room, each one dressed in matching suits and sporting their own semi-automatic weapons. Karen marks all the weapons she can find with a red outline on Peters HUD. “Where is the boss's flashdrive?”

Peter shrugs. “Flashdrive? Nope no flashdrive here,” he pats his legs. “Musta left it in the pockets of my other suit.” He can hear Felicia stifle a small chuckle next to him. Peter tries to think past the electric buzzing of his spider sense filling his head. “Step one: Stall,” he thinks to himself. “Step two… I’ll figure out step two later.”

Tombstone raises his weapon. “Not what I wanted to hear.” He adjusts his aim, pointing the gun at Felicia’s chest. She clicks her tongue and shakes her head. “You don’t want to do that.” She cautions.

Tombstone ignores her. “You have one more chance before I have myself a new catskin rug. And you wouldn’t want to lose one of your star employees, would you Mr. Parker?” Hearing his name come from Tombstones causes Peter's skin to crawl.

“Like I told you, I don't know where it is.” Peter tenses his muscles, ready to shoot a web at the gun to take it away in case Tombstone makes good on his promise. “Maybe you’re in the wrong wing of the museum."

“Wrong answer,” Tombstone squeezes the trigger. Click. Nothing happens. Tombstone growls, pulling the trigger again and again on the jammed gun. Peter glances at Felicia just in time to see that her eyes have turned to green slits, almost like a cat. She stands tall as she opens her mouth to speak, a smile tugging on her lips, “Looks like your luck has run out.”

Tombstones’ goons react quickly, bullets raining down around Peter as he does his best to duck and dodge. He shoots a web, grabbing the gun from Tombstone's tight grip. He spins, the gun whipping around on the edge of the web, knocking three men to the floor. “Now come on Tomby,” Peter flips over one of the goons, causing them to punch the air. “It’s always ‘punch-punch’ with you.”

Felicia grabs the nearest thing she can, a standing cart of pamphlets for the exhibit and launches it towards Tombstone's head. “Let's use words this time, shall we?” The stand connects with his head, knocking him slightly off balance. Peter quickly follows up with an uppercut to the jaw, causing Tombstone to stumble backwards.

“Whaddya know,” Peter puts his hands on his hips. “Punching did work,” He quickly twitches his head to the side to avoid a bat swinging down from above. He turns to the man behind him, his mask expressing the disappointment on his face. The man–no older than twenty-three–looks at Peter with fear in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” He says meekly. “I don’t want to be here,” The words now seem to be pouring out of him. “My family owes Fisk money and he said I could work it off and now-”

Peter cuts him off by webbing the bat out of his hands. “Get out of here kid.” Peter flicks his head toward the door. “Free the hostages. There’s going to be a gruff looking cop out there named Yuri. Tell her everything.” He places a hand on the kid's shoulder. “Everyone deserves a second chance,” he reassures. He gives him a gentle push towards the door.

“Thank you!” The kid yells, his voice fading as he runs down the hallway. Peter turns back to see Felicia locked in combat with three men. He moves to join her but she stops him with a word. “Tombstone!” Suddenly it feels like every alarm bell in Peter's mind goes off at once and he jumps to the side, Tombstone's fist shattering the glass in front of him instead of Peter's skull.

“Hey calm down!” Peter leaps into the air, leveling a kick at his thick head. “You’re gonna hurt someone like this!” The kick sends Tombstone stumbling towards Felicia. She grabs a man by his tweed jacket and hurls him, causing the massive man to collide with the smaller. Peter quickly webs the two men together before kicking them into a wall and webbing them to it. “Sit in a corner and think about your actions,” Peter dusts off his hands just as the police come bursting through the double doors leading to the exhibit.

Yuri Watanabe walks in first, her head held high, not an ounce of fear on her face. Peter notices that even Felicia straightens her spine under the captain's gaze. “Little late to the party,” Felicia deadpans as the officers start to cuff the unconscious men.

“Don’t remember seeing you on the guest list,” Yuri shoots back, kneeling down to examine Tombstone. “You got any more of that web solvent, Spider-Man?”

Peter pops open a compartment on his webshooters and hands her a small vial. “Remember,” he cautions. “A little goes a long way.” She pockets the vial before standing up again. She examines the costumed duo with both annoyance and gratitude in her eyes. “We talked to the kid you sent out,” She pulls out a paper notepad. “Old fashioned,” Peter thinks.

“His name was Jacob Ramirez. We took him to the station for questioning.” Yuri puts the notebook back in her pocket. “Did he say why they were here?”

“Something about a flashdrive Fisk hid,” Peter answers. He looks at Felicia. “Ms. Hardy can tell you more.”

Yuri turns her attention to the leatherclad woman. Felicia rolls her eyes before producing the flashdrive. “It holds account information for offshore banks,” She says, handing it over. “He’s got millions of dollars stashed away there.”

Peter nudges her with his elbow. “I knew you did your own research,” He mumbles, just loud enough for her to hear. Felicia scoffs in response.

Yuri takes the flashdrive. “We’ll look into it. Now get out of here before the press shows up.”

Peter, already angled towards the window, gives her a crisp salute. “Don’t have to tell me twice,” He says before leaping out the window, shooting a web to swing away.