This chapter has been updated - 16/06/15

Hello, everyone. First thanks so much for checking out my story; it means a lot. This is also my first fanfic so I'm really looking to improve my writing. I also want to say that I am not completely going to ignore the other Marvel movies (some aspects may even be part of my plot). I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer:
I do not own The Amazing Spider-Man, nor any other Marvel movies or Marvel owned stuff in this story. I am making no money from this.


Chapter 1:
Useless Ability to Control Solitaire

A badly dressed twenty-some frantically runs down the street; bumming into people as she not-so gracefully dances through the crowds of New York City. Her gray oxford heels clomping as she runs. The angry shouts of "Hey!" and "Watch it!" from people who have been nearly flattened by the purple haired young lady in the atrocious outfit go unheard by her. This particular, and it should be added speedy, girl happens to possess no ability for dressing herself in what is usually considered acceptable fashion. The patterns of her floral pants and orange polka-dot pull-over clash with each other almost as much as she clashes with the people she runs into.

She is late to class, hence why she is dashing through the city, she's used to it though; being late to class is Reagan's specialty. It's part of her morning routine on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays (which are class days for her). The night before she'll set her alarm for 7 am and not get up until 8:30-something. Then she'll stumble into clothes, make coffee, shove breakfast (whatever was left over from dinner last night) down her throat, shake her books and laptop into her bag, make coffee again, and run like hell because Reagan Knox doesn't use public transport. Reagan's thoughts are usually the same these mornings; they go something along the lines of "Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit," and so forth.

By the time Reagan arrives at NYU she's out of breath, red faced (although no one would be able to see with her unnatural purple hair stuck to her face), and unfortunately…moist with perspiration.

She makes it late to her computer programming class, although, on the bright side Tracey, her round-faced classmate with small facial features, is used to Reagan's tardiness and keeps wonderful notes. Reagan slowly and quietly sneaks to her sit beside her brunette friend; not because the professor didn't know she was always late. He was very aware that Miss Knox was almost never on time for class, Reagan knew that for sure. He'd always give her a look shortly after she'd sit down, a look that told her "he was dissatisfied with her rebellious attitude". He'd only ever said something to her once, something like "You're a bright student and as long as you don't miss the actually lectures and hand in everything on time I'll over look you missing the first ten minutes of class." Reagan thanks whatever programmer programmed her with mad computer skills every day.

Tracey gives Reagan a knowing smile and an eyebrow raise; the same expression Reagan gets every time. "You didn't miss much. Professor Finch was just telling us about why we shouldn't fail this next project," Tracey informs in a hushed tone. Reagan groans as she shrinks in her seat. "I honestly don't know why you bother to set an alarm still. You're not going to wake up any sooner."

"Zip it, bob cut," Reagan retorts.

"I'll shut up when you stop being late, plum hair," she chuckles.

Both girls look at each other with challenging expressions, however, neither of them acts. They just sit back and listen to Professor Finch; both knowing they'll pick up their squabbling later.

The two have been like this ever since they met less than two years ago, even on the day they met they were bickering and insulting one another in a joking manner.


"Would you even get out of bed in the morning if you didn't know you'd see me?" Tracey asks in a joking arrogance. Her brunette bob bounces as she skips lightly to their normal table outside of the coffee house they frequent.

Both girls sit down and pull out their laptops.

As Reagan's laptop starts up she nurses her black coffee. "Actually Coffee, not you, that's why I crawl out of bed every day." Reagan tells Tracey in monotone.

"Glad to know I rank below coffee."

Reagan smirks at Tracey from over her coffee cup.

The women fall into a comfortable silence, the sounds of them typing away and the chatter from surrounding groups create a familiar atmosphere. They go on like this for a while; it's normal for them to do this while studying. They spend their time together and all they do is work on their laptops. It gives them a sort of comfort though; knowing that the other is there. Knowing they aren't alone brings peace to the two.

After what is close to an hour of silence one of them break its; usually to ask the other for help or just bring up a random topic. Tracey is the one to break the silence today, "So, will you tell me today?"

"No," Reagan counters.

"You know, that answer is really getting old" Tracey sighs. This is an ongoing topic and it always ends with Tracey getting shut down by Reagan. "Look, I already know about your 'side projects' and a lot of other stuff about you, so why can't I know this?" Tracey pleads.

Reagan lets out an aggravated sigh and pushes her coffee cup into her face. Reagan gives Tracey a warning glare over the rim of her cup, it does nothing to diminish Tracey's persistent look. "Trace, you already know that I'm a-" Reagan looks around nervously, leans in, and lowers her voice, "A mutant. The less you know about me in that area the safer you are. So just leave your nose out of this."

"So knowing what your power is, is worse than knowing you work as an illegal hacker?" Tracey asks in a frustrated whisper.

Reagan shuts her laptop with a loud slam; startling Tracey. There have only been a couple instances where Tracey has pushed Reagan on a topic so far that Reagan will yell. However, with them being in public and the sensitivity of the conversation, it is impossible for Reagan to yell. Reagan meets Tracey's pricing gaze with one of her own; they stare at each other, waiting for the other to crack. It is Reagan. "I'm a technopath or cyberpath. Basically, my power is technology manipulation; I have a connection with mechanics."

Tracey stares at her with disbelief and curiosity. A smile appears on Tracey's lips, stating small and growing quite large and goofy. "That is so awesome!" Tracey exclaims. "Can you show me?" She asks eagerly.

"I can win that game of solitary you've been playing – instead of studying – by just touching your laptop." Reagan lays her hand against the back of Tracey's laptop. Tracey shifts back as the digital cards start to move on their own and complete the game themselves. Tracey just stares at Reagan with her eyebrows raised.

"That was cool. Can you do that with all computers? What about with any kind of technology? Do you actually have any real skills at hacking?" Tracey rapidly fires questions.

Reagan's mouth is moving but no words are coming out, she's thinking over how to properly answer Tracey's questions. "I can control computers - correction, I can control my computer and partially control other's - although, the more complicated the computer the more I have to work. I've heard of technopaths who have a connection with all technology. I, however, only have I connection with some. I don't have the power to control coffee makers, unfortunately. Excuse me? Yes, actually, I do! I was good with computer science and hacking way before I discovered my powers."

"Wait, why don't you have a connection with all technology? I mean it doesn't make sense for you to be only able to connect with some and not others." Tracey questions.

Reagan taps her fingers on the lid of her closed laptop. "My powers aren't strong; actually, they're really weak. I should be able to connect with all machines; I know this because I can sense the energy in the air. Weakly, but I can still feel it, although, it's all blurry and distant. I think the only reason I have a strong connection or any kind of connection with computers is because I was very good with them before the mutant gene evolved in my DNA. I think because I understand them, how they're programmed and stuff, my powers have been able to develop."

Tracey listens intently to Reagan.

"So, aren't there places or people you can go to that specialize in developing mutant powers?" Tracey inquires.

"There is, but I have no clue how to go about finding them. Mutants aren't exactly openly welcome in most places. If you support mutants and developing the mutant gene you've got to stay hidden." Reagan replies with yearning.

"So, it's like a 'don't call us, we'll call you' sort of deal?" Tracey questions.

"Yep," The disappointment is clear in Reagan's voice. The girls fall back into a less comfortable silence, neither one knowing what to say. The sounds of Manhattan rush-hour attract the girl's attention, horns honking and the occasional angry shout.

As the girls gather their stuff Tracey begins to speak again, "do you want me to walk home with you?"

"No, I think I'll walk by myself tonight. Thanks though."

Tracey nods her head in acknowledgement. "Thanks, Reagan. Really, you didn't have to tell me, but it makes me feel like you trust me." Reagan doesn't say anything she just nods and waves as she walks away from Tracey.

Reagan lets out a breath, "I do, Tracey. More than you know."


The coffee pot dings to signify that Reagan's substance is complete in creation. She eagerly skates over to the pot in her socks, bracing her arms on the counter to stop. She grabs her coffee and sits down in front of her laptop; she rolls her neck and flexes her interlocked fingers. Bones popping and cracking as she starches and a sigh of relief escapes her. "Alright; time to work," Reagan says in a serious manner. Reagan doesn't have a proper job, what she does for money isn't practical and her pay is never consistent.

Reagan Knox: a freelance hacker who takes jobs when she can and is making a name for herself in the shady underground. Maybe not her proudest achievement, but she chooses the jobs. That's the agreement; that's always the agreement. She never meets her employers; because whoever they are she doesn't want to know. There's a certain bench, in central park, if someone wants a job done they leave an envelope under it. If Reagan wants it she takes the content inside the envelope and leaves a note that says okay, if she doesn't take the job she leaves everything in the envelope, under the bench, with a note saying nope.

It's a hard game to play, deciding what is just too illegal and what is acceptable. There is also not drawing attention to herself, particularly from the police. Getting arrested isn't high on Reagan's list of must-do-at-least-once-in-my-lifetime. Funny enough, she doesn't want to disappoint her parents by having a run-in with the law; yet that is an occupational hazard. Obviously, her parents have no clue about what it is she really does. They actually think she's a Technical Support Specialist (Although, with some jobs she taken she might as well be). The only person who knows what she really does is Tracey, who actually is a Technical Support Specialist at Oscorp.

It was an accident how Tracey found out about Reagan's illegal accomplishments. They were having a girl's night at Reagan's, romantic movies, wine, and other cliché crap. At some point during the night Reagan left the room and Tracey, being the nosy son of a bitch she is, had always wondered why Reagan was so secretive about her laptop. Reagan came back into the room to the sight of Tracey pointing and squeaking at Reagan's laptop. They had a long conversation involving inappropriate words and flying paraphernalia. Somehow, by the grace of some all-powerful deity they came out of the fight understanding each other better.

As per-usual when Reagan works late nights, she falls asleep at her desk, the light of her laptop screen shines on her. Reagan is in a half sitting-on-her-chair and half-lying-on-her-desk position; still in her ridiculously, mismatched outfit.


So, the first couple chapters are going to be a bit slow. I'll try to upload those soon, but once the first couple are uploaded I will most likely not post so frequently. If you want please review.