Disclaimer: I do not own Spider-Man, or any of the characters
Note: Imagine a world where telephone operators still existed...
Note #2: I wrote this while watching Spider-Man and I thought 'What if someone had been listening at the end of the conversation?' This story developed. I don't know how long it's going to be before I update but...yeah. Enjoy the first chapter.
Chapter One: How I Discovered A Secret Identity By Accident
"Your time has expired. Please deposit 50 cents for the next five minutes," I said wearily.
He did not do so...and yet he kept talking.
"I wanna tell you the truth."
Deep breath.
"Here it is. I'm Spider-Man. Weird, huh?"
Shock.
"Now you know why I can't be with you. If my enemies found out about you...if you got hurt, I could never forgive myself."
Sympathy.
"I wish I could tell you how I feel about you."
He replaced the phone and in all probability walked away. I sat at my desk, stunned. I glanced around. I didn't why...maybe to see if the world had changed for anyone else, the way it had for me. It hadn't. Kester Graham still loitered around the water cooler waiting to pounce on unsuspecting female employees. Vicki and Hannah were still surreptitiously IMing each other. Nothing had changed...except me.
I knew who Spider-Man was...
...well, not exactly. I would recognise his voice anywhere, at least. That's what made me good at this job, my ability to recognise voice. I was like some human voice recognition machine.
I double checked where the call had come from. Apparently it had come from a pay phone situated on the corner of...hey, I lived near there. I wondered if Spider-Man also lived nearby. I might have passed him by day after day, never knowing that he was...well, Spider-Man.
I decided to go and check out the pay phone. Picking up my jacket and handbag I walked quickly past Kester, narrowly escaping his clutching fingers, and into the elevator. Five minutes later I was heading towards the bus stop.
When I arrived at the pay phone I paused. What was I doing here? What did I expect to find? That he'd dropped a business card? Highly unlikely, although, from what I could pick up from his voice he was the right frame of mind to drop a card with his name and address on it. Sadly, after a frantic search, I came up with nothing.
I sighed in frustration and glanced around. I decided to ask a group of teenagers loitering on the corner whether they had seen the face of the last person to use the pay phone. One of them, a rather observant fellow with the dubious name of Killian, said that he had.
"Sort of geeky. Pale with brown hair. Looked like he might have worn glasses at one point. Yeah, he was the last one there."
I nodded gratefully and, as he seemed to be waiting patiently for something, handed him a twenty for his trouble. I decided to ask him one more question.
"Did you happen to catch his name?"
Before Killian could answer, and in the process snag another twenty, a very thin girl who had just left a nearby building interrupted. "Do you mean Peter Parker? He lives in our building."
I shook her hand gratefully, slipping her two twenties on the sly, hoping she would use them for food. She looked like she needed it. Then I left.
Peter Parker.
Spider-Man's name was Peter Parker.
Since I was in my brother's precinct I decided to pay him a visit and see what information I could get out of him on this Peter Parker. The name sounded familiar but I couldn't place it...
But I first had to call in sick at work and take the rest of the day off. That done, I made my way to the police station where my brother worked.
He wasn't busy and so was happy to see me. His attitude would have been remarkably different if he had been busy, believe me.
"What can I do for you, my favourite sister?"
I smiled. "Stop being silly, Ben. Do you know the name Peter Parker?"
He thought for a moment. "It does sound familiar..."
I nodded. "I know...but I can't place it – "
He interrupted me with, "I know!" Retrieving a newspaper from his almost empty bin he scanned the front page until he found what he was looking for. Pointing at it he handed me the newspaper.
Under the front page picture of Spider-Man were the words, 'Photographed by Peter Parker.' I smiled at his ingenuity. It was quite clever becoming the photographer of Spider-Man.
"Is that all?" Ben asked wistfully. I decided to get the hell out of there. A bored Ben was sometimes slightly worse than busy Ben.
"Yes, thank you. You've been very helpful." I was gone before he could say another word.
Peter Parker (a.k.a. Spider-Man) worked at the Daily Bugle. That would be my next stop.