Hey, guys. It's been a while, hasn't it? And I'm back with another Spider-Man fanfic, but this time from another universe. I was inspired as I just got the game as a Christmas gift and I instantly noticed how well they worked together. Now, I understand that in the canon she's significantly older than Spider-Man, but for the purposes of this fanfiction, she will not be more than a few years older than him. Anyway, please let me know what you think in the reviews!

Spider-Man and Yuri Watanabe had always been unofficial partners. It was not ideal for a cop to team up with a vigilante, but he could do a lot of things that the force couldn't, which made him a valuable asset. Also, she would refuse to admit it to him, but his constant wisecracks brought the occasional smile to her face (which she always kept well-hidden in case he noticed).

Their professional relationship began once he started showing up randomly at the scenes of various crimes around the city. She had an oddly sharp memory of his young voice the first time she'd heard it, and it seemed so out of place. When she looked at his muscled figure, she imagined a deep and husky voice, like that of Sylvester Stallone, but instead, he was a pubescent teen whose voice cracked in every other sentence he spoke.

The third time she ever saw him, she had been called to investigate an armed robbery in Midtown. She expected nothing different from everything else she had ever experienced while on her shift, but when her car rolled up to the curb, shots were being fired at none other than the infamous Spider-Kid (she had refused to call him anything else, even though he insisted she call him Spider-Man). When she came running from her cruiser, gun in hand, he turned his head in her direction, and the whites of his lenses expanded, but he had to turn back around almost instantaneously to avoid a blow from the thug he was squaring off against at that moment. After he deftly moved his head out of the way of his attacker's fist, the spandex-suited webslinger hit him with a left hook and a knee to the chest, effectively knocking him to the ground.

He flipped to the side to avoid gunshots from another thief, and finally acknowledged the detective's presence by saying, "Hiya, Detective! Feels like only yesterday when I saw you last! Oh, wait, I think it - was!" He emphasized his last word with a kick to the face of the man with the gun. His limbs moved like elastic through the air, and all Detective Watanabe could do was watch him do his work in awe, gun hanging limply at her side, mouth slightly agape.

Spider-Man stood over the thug he had just beaten to the ground, victorious. Suddenly, he clutched his torso, crying out in pain. She rushed to him, resting a hand on his shoulder and asking gruffly, "You all right, kid?"

"Yeah, I'll be f- agh, that definitely stings." He looked up at her from his hunched position, breathing hard, shoulders rising and falling exaggeratedly.

"I'm gonna call an ambulance. Show me the wound," she demanded. All of a sudden the huge lenses widened, like a camera's lens after capturing a shot, and he stood straight up again.

"No, you can't do that," he begged. "People can't know." He began to run off, leaving a trail of drops of blood in his wake, and jumped into the air, shooting a web out to a nearby streetlight.

"Hey, wait-" She began, but realized it was too late to call him back. She watched him swing through the street, sighing deeply. That kid sure was something.

That was eight years ago. Now his voice was deeper and he was much taller than her, but his mannerisms, though somewhat restrained, were still able to get her to groan, but occasionally the corners of her mouth would turn upwards and she would wish to laugh with him.

On this particular night, she was leaning over the railing on the roof of the precinct, a daily ritual that calmed her down, the sounds of the city music to her ears and the cloudy night sky an artwork to behold. With her eyes, she was following a pedestrian that wore a green winter coat, who had just left a deli across the street, when she heard the slightest sound of someone landing beside her. She didn't need to look to know who it was. Nobody else would dare interrupt her rooftop breaks.

"You all right, Captain? You have a hundred-yard-stare kinda thing going on," said the superhero, and she picked up a hint of concern in his voice. She turned towards him, and he was sat on the railing next to her, in that familiar perching position.

She looked down at the ground in front of him as she replied. "It's been a long night." She turned away from him, looking out into the city once more. She saw him tilt his head to the side and his lenses narrow. It seemed he wasn't about to let her get off that easily.

"Are you sure that's all it is? A long night? 'Cause nobody gets as mopey as that," he said, gesturing towards her, "After nothing more than a long night."

She scoffed. "Okay, Doctor Spider-Man," she quipped.

The webhead chuckled. "I'm going to ignore that you actually made a joke, and ask you again what is going on with you. So…"

The captain sighed, knowing he wouldn't relent until he got an answer out of her. "I was called to check out a robbery, and when I got there, the guy had a gun, and he was shooting at me. I shot a couple times at him, too, but one of the times…" she trailed off. It was tough to say the next part of that sentence.

"What happened, Yuri?" Spider-Man had shifted from beside her to directly in front of her on the railing, and he was clearly very interested in what she was going to say. She ran her left hand through her hair, steeling herself before she continued.

"I almost shot an innocent bystander. I could see the fear in their eyes and the bullet hole in the wall. I missed them by a hair. The guy almost got away, but another officer was able to take care of him. I was just… in too much shock to move."

The masked man scratched the back of his head, looking off to the side. "That's… that's scary, Yuri."

"It was a damn rookie mistake. The other cop just looked at me like I had grown a third arm. I felt… terrible." She ran her hand through her hair again, and for some reason, she could feel tears ready to fall. This was new. She could never imagine crying over a mistake, let alone anything. And now, to have tears come in front of Spider-Man, who she knew saw her as a confident, strong-willed, grizzled detective? What, was hell freezing over?

"We all make mistakes, Yuri. Even your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man isn't perfect," he joked. She shot a glare at him. Now was not the time. He relented. "Sorry. But, you can't let this one incident get you down. You're still one of New York's finest, and probably…" He didn't finish, and she really wanted to know what he was going to say.

"Probably what, kid?" She urged.

"My favorite cop."

Spider-Man had never thought of Yuri Watanabe in anything other than a professional context. She wasn't really the type to make friends with a mysterious man whose face she had never actually seen, but lately, it had seemed that she was warming up to him slightly. That night on the rooftop, instead of keeping her cold, blank expression, she actually seemed to break down, and he didn't know whether to be amazed or sympathetic.

He had chosen to show sympathy, of course, but on the inside, he couldn't help but think, Yuri has emotions? Wow. And when he had called her his "favorite cop," he had seen her eyes light up, and an open smile form on her face. He couldn't help but smile back, even though she wouldn't have been able to see it under the mask.

She had responded, still smiling, "Is it worth the same if I said you're my favorite spandex-suited vigilante from New York?"

Spider-Man placed a hand under his chin, pretending to think. "Well, your only other option is Daredevil, and to be honest, he's not my favorite, either."

She giggled, not even bothering to hide it under her palm. "Thanks, Spider-Man. I appreciate your help."

Under his mask, he raised an eyebrow. "I could get used to this version of Yuri," he thought aloud. This was a mistake, as she instantly replaced her smile with a frown, and she sent him off with a wave of her hand.

"Don't you have… crimes… to be stopping?" She asked vaguely. He cocked his head to the side.

"Don't you?" He shot back. She was unable to say anything in response, so he said, "I'm just pulling your leg. Have fun!" He pointed some finger guns at her, then backflipped off of the railing. She couldn't stop her self from running to the edge of the roof and watching him go, bobbing up and down like a pendulum with each swing, off to find the next incident in the city of crime.