Stories Focussed On Spider-Man

Crime-Fighters

Info: Avengers don't know who Spider-Man is. They've heard of him, but never worked with him before...

To say the Avengers were startled would be a huge understatement. They were shocked. They were waiting in what on the outside looked to be an abandoned warehouse, but was furnished fairly well on the inside. It had looked like a standard SHIELD base at first glance, but there was something off about it upon closer inspection.

Maybe it was the working R2D2 that was pushing a metal table towards the corner of the room. Maybe it was the backpack on top of said table. Maybe it was the small kitchenette and dinning table that looked homey. Maybe it was the fact that, while most everything beside that was standard SHIELD, the activities that seemed to occure there seemed to be the opposite.

Granted, the observations were cut short when Spider-Man leapt through a very high and open window, stumbling over to what appeared to be a first-aid station. The vigilante didn't seem to notice the team's presence.

"Dang it, Spidey. Just had to go patrolling even though Mr. Fury said they would be showing up today. Can't believe that lady didn't run away! Had to take a bullet for her!" he rambled to himself. He grabbed a pair of tweezers and a mirror before pulling on his suit so he had enough room to work. He laid down on a medical bed, his foot tapping impatiently while he got the mirror into position so he could see the bullet wound clearly. He worked swiftly, retrieving the bullet and webbing the wound shut. He stood and clean the tweezers and the bullet, putting both in drawers. The team wondering how many times he'd been shot for him to be so casual about the entire thing. "At least I didn't have to take a knife for her, stab wounds are so much more annoying to take care of."

Dr. Bruce Banner cleared his throat and the webhead went stiff before slowing turning to face the team.

"Well, this is awkward," he said after a moment.

"Spider-Man, right?" Steve Rogers greeted, moving to shake hands with the vigilante.

"Uh, yeah. Hi. You don't want to shake right now, my glove has blood on it, sorry," he said sheepishly.

"How'd you get shot?" Steve asked.

"I was stopping an attempted rape. The woman didn't bolt once I showed and the baddie tried to shoot her, so..."

"That's very... heroic of you," Tony Stark commented to which the hero just shrugged self-consciously. "I'm sure Eyepatch old you what's going on?"

"He made me sign a contract about not going evil and then he said he'd fund my spider related stuff and more if I happen to find myself in a financial pickle. Then, he brought me here and said it was all mine to use as a base and that it wasn't bugged - which I checked - then he mentioned that you might be coming around. Am I missing anything?"

"With a general lack of world-threatening events as of late, he wants us to start doing patrols and sent us to you since you seem to have that down pretty good. Maybe do a team up or two," Steve explained.

"Uh, cool. What am I supposed to do exactly?"

"Well, most of us don't know how to track gang bases."

"I usually just triangulate a general area based on appearances and then do a sweep of the area."

Clint Barton spoke up. "The average Avenger doesn't know how to triangulate and we aren't familiar with local gangs."

Spider-Man nodded. "Okay. I guess I can compile a list of the locals and recognizable symbols. I'm assuming that Mr. Stark knows how to do the math?"

Stark scoffed. "Of course I do, I'm not an idiot."

"Lit, Imma grab a snack before I head back out," Spider-Man announced before walking to the kitchen area and piling on five slices of pepperoni pizza onto a single plate before popping it in the microwave. He washed thr blood off of his hands and dabbed at his side with a towel, hissing when it stung.