Stories Focussed On Spider-Man

(USM) Undercover

Info: Ultimate Spider-Man universe. The team doesn't know his identity.

"C'mon, Webhead!" Nova whined. "Hurry it up! I know you'll never compare to my handsomeness, but you've probably got that college look down!"

A chuckle was heard from inside the bathroom Spider-Man was changing in. "College? How old do you think I am?"

You see, as of the week prior, Director Fury interrupted their typical training session to inform them that they had to go undercover at some fancy AIM banquet. Naturally, the Ultimates were excited. I mean, come on! They were going undercover! Plus, they had never actually seen Spider-Man's face, despite having been told his first name was actually Peter (in case he had to take them back to his house for some emergency medical treatment and they had to act like they were friends, of course). They had been toying around with what they thought his personal life was like ever since they met him, from guessing his relationship status to the color of his hair. Heck, they weren't even sure how old he was!

The Ultimates had deduced that he was definitely younger than thirty and most likely younger than twenty-five as well. They figured that, at the very youngest, they were being lead by a college freshman. Sure, there was a time when they had been suspicious of him being younger than he seemed. But, let's face it, would Fury really trust a bunch of superpowered teens to another superpowered teen? The odds just seemed way to slim in their eyes.

Granted, their assumptions shook a little when the arachnid hero himself questioned Nova's - who had yet to change himself, seeing as everyone was waiting for the big reveal - statement.

"What's the holdup, Spider-Man?" Nick Fury asked, walking in the small waiting area.

"Nick?"

"Yes?"

"I-I don't know how to tie this tie," he admitted. "I usually use a clip on."

Nova chuckled. "Why didn't you asked your old man this week?"

Fury shot Nova a one-eyed glare.

A humorless laugh escaped the bathroom. "Imagine that conversation: walking up to his grave with a tie being all like, 'Hey, Dad. I know you're dead and all, but I'm a superhero SHIELD agent and I'm about to go on a super secret undercover mission, but I don't know how to tie my tie. Bummer. Maybe you could pull some strings up in Heaven to come back and teach me!' Yeah, if only that one would work. Stupid P-Parker Luck." His voice seemed to crack at the end. The Ultimates shared a wide-eyed look. No one had even thought to guess that he had dead family members, despite that being the case for most in their business.

"Unlock the door, I'm coming in," Director Fury ordered, although it didn't have the usual stern ring to it. It almost sounded compassionate.

"O-okay." A click was heard and the man stepped inside, closing the dood behind him. "What are you going to do?"

"Someone has to show you how to tie a tie, Parker. Next time you don't know how to do something like this, tell me," Fury decided.

"Thank you, Nick. I really appreciate this."

After a few minutes, the director of SHIELD left the bathroom with a ghost of a smile on his face, nodding to the teenagers before leaving them, but not without hollering over his shoulder, "Come out soon, Parker. Your team might explode from the anticipation."

"Just one more second," the leader huffed. Sure enough, the door was opened after a moment, revealing a rather skittish teenager with blue eyes and a mop of mostly groomed brown hair. He was wear a black suit and tie along with a dark red dress shirt underneath, which the team knew he was hiding his supersuit beneath his clothing just in case things went South.

"I thought he'd be taller," Nova yawned once he got over his initial shellshock of realizing that they had all been totally wrong about his age. He had noticed how nervous his leader looked and figured the comment might diffused some of the tension he felt. He was right.

Peter smiled. "That's gold, coming from you, Bucket-Head." He stuck to officially introduce himself to his team. "Peter Parker."

"So, how old are you?" Power-Man asked. "We totally thought you were some college kid!"

"You certainly show the intelligence of one," Iron Fist agreed.

"I'm fifteen," he answered shyly. "I'm still a sophomore, I attend Midtown High School."

"Color me surprised," White Tiger admitted. "Also, you owe me five bucks, Nova. I told you he had brown hair."

"Dang it!"