His talk with Gwen and their more recent date started to mend the broken bridge. Sure, they weren't officially together, but it was for good reason. He didn't want a "villain kidnaps Gwen" scenario on his hands, even if he loved her. Knowing his luck, that was likely to happen soon.

The villain part. Not the, you know, kidnapping Gwen part.

He stared at the open briefcase in front of him. Putting it simply, it was a new suit. It kept the same colors as his old… uniform. He didn't even want to call it a suit after seeing this one. Disfigured hoodie with spider on it was more appropriate.

It had way bigger eye holes, a thin black border encompassing them. A red mask seamlessly meshed with a swath of red, making a "T" shape, a red belt directly underneath. What looked like grid lines ran down the red of his suit, running underneath a long-legged, black spider design. From the shins of the suit downward, the same red pattern sat, but with what felt like more grip. The blue portion, inhabiting the space not occupied by red, had no designs on it, save the woven mesh pattern that was surprisingly durable. A red spider was on his back, slightly smaller than the one on the front.

Putting it lightly, it looked badass. He was absolutely putting this on.

Peter quickly stripped to his underwear. Sliding the suit on, one leg after the other, before finally shimmying into the rest of the spandex. He held his wrists up, glancing at the web shooters latched onto them. Palm activated, slightly bulging out from the spandex-mesh hybrid. He pushed a button near the back end of one, a hiss emitting as the panel lifted itself at an angle, revealing two translucent vials. He slid one out, holding it out in front of his face.

"Wow, this looks, well, the same as my web fluid. Wonder how long that took him to figure out," he said, shrugging, before sliding it back into the cartridge, a pop emitting as it reached the back of the device.

The same hiss followed as it closed shut. Peter looked toward the briefcase again, seeing a compartment with four extra vials. It came with refills.

Peter grabbed the mask from the case, closing it afterward and shoving it under his bed. He didn't want Aunt May asking questions. Hopefully she doesn't look under there for anything. He pulled the mask over his head, aligning the eye holes, before a quiet hum was heard, his vision getting brighter and a HUD appearing in his vision. Various objects were highlighted as he looked around his room, before turning back to normal, leaving Peter standing in full costume.

He wanted to run around and test everything now. Hopefully May didn't come home while he was gone. He grabbed his bag from a corner of his room, before opening his window, getting ready to jump out before he heard a faint buzzing from the other room. Almost forgot his phone. He jogged out of his room, grabbing his phone off the living room couch, Gwen's caller ID lighting up the screen again. He pulled his mask up, putting it up to his ear.

"Hey Gwen."

"Hey, Spider. What's the text about?"

"Short or long version?"

She paused for a second in thought.

"Short. I have studying, you have spider-stuff."

"Basically, Tony Stark gave me a suit."

"Waitwait, a what? Wait again, Tony Stark?!"

"Oksobasically Tony stopped me in his car and then he told me to get in and then he said he needed me and then he gave me this huge, giant briefcase and then he said no spider-splat and then- "

She cut him off.

"You're doing it again. Relax."

"…sorry."

"How about," she said, with a tone of restraint.

"You just tell me in your free period. And no, you aren't hiding in the Yearbook room again. You used that one last week; I know your tricks now. We can meet outside or something."

"Sounds good!" Peter replied, quickly interjecting before she could say something again.

"Is this like a spontaneous date you want to go- "

"No, Peter. Figure your life out and then we can go on impromptu dates or whatever nerd thing you want to call them."

Ouch, that one stung.

"You're a nerd too, last time I checked. Gwen Stacy, top of her class, summa-cum-something?"

"Okay, okay, whatever! Go patrol, don't you have to go on patrol? You know, the city needs you?"

"You didn't deny the nerd thing. So, you are a nerd."

"…I'm hanging up, Peter."

"Love you too, Gwen."

Dial tone. Not even a response. Gwen Stacy strikes again. Peter smiled. He loved their conversations, even if they were too short for his liking sometimes.

He pulled his mask back down, shutting the door to his room, stuffing his phone in his backpack, and jumping out the window.

Peter didn't really know how to explain the situation in front of him.

"So, let me get this straight," he said, gesturing toward the guy in front of him.

"You rob? We'll go with that. You rob corner stores, where they just give you their registers and you just, leave?"

"Yes! I'm the fearsome Bodega Bandit! Nobody lifts a finger toward me!" the costumed villain shouted, frantically shaking his head.

He had a fedora and a weird outfit on. Not like he could comment on weird outfits, but this was over-the-top. Peter was thinking of a weird phrase to describe him. Diet, lime green Hamburgler. Perfect. They were sitting outside a bodega he'd just robbed, the man dangling from a nearby fire escape in a cocoon of webbing. The fearsome bandit was rambling again.

Peter tuned him out, listening in on a random conversation from inside the corner store.

"...to be correct. You always need to make sure what you ring up is right, man, come on man!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I know, it was an accident!"

"Sure, it was an accident, but if you make any more accidents with Mr. Francis here, I'll be defaulting on Joe's 100% Money-Back Guarantee, and not only am I getting no money for any of this merchandise, but they'll ALSO go across the street and buy from Rao's! Do you want Mr. Francis to buy from Rao's?"

"No, I don't want Mr. Francis-"

He completely ignored his comment, interrupting him. "Go take a lunch, take a break, you're my last hope here." He brushed the cashier off, a dazed look on his face.

"GoooOOOooo!" The manager exclaimed, causing the employee to rush off, presumably into the back room.

Peter facepalmed his suit mask. He shook his head, diverting his attention back to the weirdo in front of him.

"Uh, what's your name again?" Peter said, looking around for the police.

He called them a few minutes ago, reporting a guy robbing local bodegas. They sounded like they'd heard about him a million times, promising to send the next available squad car over.

"I told you! The Bodega Bandit! Did you not hear me the first ti- "

"You know you talk a lot? And that's coming from me. Are you sure you're from this… I don't know, dimension?"

Bodega Bandit started rambling again, Peter wisely tuning him out again. He saw a register till- presumably from the bodega around the corner- near the dumpster. He went over to it, picking it up and making the journey to return it. He stepped inside, hearing the ding of the bell as the door swung open. He walked up to the manager from before, setting the register down on the counter.

"Spider-Man! Hey, my son, he's a big fan! Could I get an autograph?" the man said, giving him a bug-eyed look. Peter sighed, signing whatever piece of paper the man gave him, before turning and leaving the bodega again. The police had pulled up by now, taking the famed Bandit into custody. The officer standing by gave Peter a look, before turning her head away. Peter took that as his chance to escape, webbing onto a nearby building and continuing his trek through the city.

Nothing major to report just yet. Besides the random incident just a second ago, the city had been relatively quiet. He'd probably ask Gwen about that bodega guy later though; she did know a few things about his hero-career he had no clue about.

The new suit had been working out nicely too, all the menial things he had to worry about with the old one practically vanishing. It was like the suit was temperature regulated or something! He didn't have to worry about his web shooters jamming, he never got hot, or cold, like he did in the last suit, and it looked much better than his old one.

There were a lot of things on his mind now, not just his suit. Gwen, for one, took up a prevalent chunk of that pondering. He figured he shouldn't keep her waiting, especially with how good she was to him. She helped with a lot of stuff in the past. Not to mention anything major involving his Spider-Man duties.

Mr. Stark was also, well, unexpected. Never would he have thought that he would stop him on the side of the street and give him handouts, especially in the form of a new suit. It didn't come without doubt though. Stark practically knew everything about him as far as he could tell, even bringing up his aunt unexpectedly. Who knew what he was capable of, especially if he ever ended up going against him or his demands. He was wearing a suit made by Iron Man, after all.

Peter swung around for an hour or two more, thoughts of current events plaguing his mind. It was eerily quiet in the streets tonight, but he wasn't going to complain.

He spoke a little too soon, as the back of his head blared in warning, signaling something nearby. He heard the sirens a few seconds later. Car chase. He began swinging toward it, trying to get into a rhythm. Swing, pull, release. Swing, pull, release.

The rearmost vehicle was within reach now, its sirens blaring through the New York night. Peter leapt on top, probably jump scaring the officer inside. He took a few seconds to catch his breath, before attaching to forward-most surface he could reach, swinging onto the next. It was a series of hops in swings, comparable to something out of Frogger, until he reached the front of the chase. He took a last swing, slamming his feet into the rear windshield and sliding into the backseat. The two in front, both women, looked at him in shock. Peter gave a wave.

"Evening, ladies! Don't you have better things to do?" he said as a head of brown hair pulled out a revolver, putting two bullets where he was just sitting.

"Don't shoot a gun inside a car?! Be a more productive member of society!"

He shot a string of web, the force propelling her hand into the dashboard, pinning it and the gun down. The driver swerved, sending Peter into the opposing door. His head hit the glass as he emitted a groan. Peter's head spun for a second, before refocusing on the middle-aged woman pinned down against the dashboard. She shot another web, restraining the hand attempting to pull the web off. She was done for. Now, onto the driver. She looked a bit younger, wasn't certain though.

Peter rolled the window down. She didn't lock it.

He webbed a metal trash can lid off the sidewalk and shoved it under his arm, giving a friendly wave at the police. Their sirens were still blaring. He braced one hand against the top of the car, using his other to shove the lid against the door, forcefully folding it in half. He knocked on the window, hopefully getting her to open it. She unwisely chose not to, Peter following by bashing it in. In her stupor, he winced and shoved the lid into the brake petal. The sudden deceleration almost sent him flying off the car. The car skidded at a 45-degree angle, the rear tires spinning as the car lurched to a stop. He shot as many webs as he could at the driver. She had a new, silk coat afterward. The chase was over.

Three cop cars skidded to a halt in the side of him, rushing out of the car and hesitantly staring at him, one pulling out a gun and pointing it at him. Peter put his hands up, tilting his head to the side, before shooting one at a nearby building and making his escape once again.

He traversed a few blocks, before landing on the roof of a deserted building. He grabbed his backpack, reaching in and grabbing a water bottle, chugging it. He pulled his phone out, checking the time.

2:35. Probably a good time to head home. He had to get a little bit of sleep before class tomorrow, even if it was only a few hours. He spent a few minutes heading back, eventually reaching his Queens apartment, hopping into his room through the window. He took the suit off, pushing it into the bottom of his bag, before throwing a t-shirt and shorts on and hopping into bed, not even bothering to turn the light off.

First off, thanks for the reviews! Nice to see that people enjoy this!

I'll kind of address them here, but I also upload this story on ao3, where I can like... actually individually reply? It's a bit easier there. If you have any ideas or things you want me to add, feel free to comment them, it helps my brain in regards to coming up with stuff.

I fervently wrote this chapter after the last one, writing like half of it in the span of an hour. Finished it yesterday, and figured it ended at a good enough point to cut it off. I don't know, part of me wants to write longer chapters with longer times between uploads, but I also like the 2k-3k word range for each, where you can read it in a few minutes. It also sucks when I get into a lull and can't think hard enough about what to do next.

I think I'm gonna introduce the overarching plot in the next chapter or the one after it, I just have to figure out how to put it in writing. We'll see what happens.