Chapter One

Six months later . . .

It was the sound of tires popping that caught his attention. It wasn't just one of them, either. No. He wouldn't be leaping off of buildings if it were so. Four tires popped open, and now there was shouting. Two men . . . no, three men. Threatening the driver.

"Get the hell outta the car!"

"We're armed! Move it!"

"Don't hurt me! Please, just take the money and go!"

"We don't want the money and you know it."

The man calling himself Daredevil shot across the rooftops, his super-senses immediately coming to life as the surroundings flowed around him. The billy-club, serving as his rope, yanked him down safely from the high-rises of Hell's Kitchen to the street level.

And right next to the car that was being robbed.

Bullets were fired as Daredevil ignored the threats. He dodged them, and moved away from the punches that were being delivered. He laid out two of the men, sending them to the ground. He followed the sound the third man footsteps as he ran for it.

But before Daredevil could do anything, he needed to check on the driver of the car. Just as he was reaching out to the man (his radar like senses informing him of his location), there was a sudden sound that was unlike anything he had ever heard before.

A heartbeat, fast. It gave the impression of a man, most definitely. But there was one sound he was having trouble figuring out. It sounded like a . . . like a . . . spider shooting a web?

Oh no, not him.

A foot smacked right into Daredevil's chest, sending the red clad hero of Hell's Kitchen to the street. Sonics gave off the location and - to an extent - the features of this man. Daredevil recognized him. Spider-Man.

"Leave him alone, hornhead," Spider-Man yelped, moving towards Daredevil.

"No!" shouted the driver. "He saved me!"

"Huh?" yelped Spider-Man, glancing between the two. "Oh man, I'm sorry."

Daredevil stood up. "Shut up," he grumbled. "If you want to help out, webslinger, keep these two down and follow me. And stay the hell outta my way."

Spider-Man shot two web nets at the pair that Daredevil had taken down, then followed Daredevil. "This is kinda fun," he said. "Sorry about kicking you. But hey, you know, this should prove to be a blast. Two urban legends, getting together, fighting crime."

"Spider-Man?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

With that, Daredevil shot up his billy-club and swung up between two buildings. Spider-Man followed through, using his webs to propel his body. Daredevil didn't like this one bit, and sure as heck didn't need Spider-Man involved. But just in case this was much bigger than he realized - i.e., gangs - then an extra pair of hands wouldn't hurt at all.

"I see him," Spider-Man said.

"Good. I can't," Daredevil answered, flipping in mid-air, then catching himself with his extended billy-club.

"Why's that?" asked Spider-Man, following suit.

"Because I'm blind."

Daredevil surpressed a grin when he heard Spider-Man gasp. This was kinda fun. Spider-Man shot a web, snagging hold of the criminals feet, sending him spilling to the ground. Daredevil swooped in then, and slammed him against the wall. He then spun him around and allowed Spider-Man to continue webbing him up.

"Talk," Daredevil commanded, his hands on the man's jaw and cheeks.

"I don't know anything! I was hired!"

"Hired to do what?" interrogated Daredevil.

Spider-Man picked up file folder on the ground. "What is this?" he asked, glancing at some of the papers inside.

"You heard him!" yelled Daredevil. "What is that?"

"I don't know! Honest!"

Just then, a man entered the alley. He was tall, hearing a trench coat. He looked quite ordinary, brown hair, brown eyes, medium build. He glanced between Spider-Man with the file and Daredevil with the criminal.

"I'll take that," the man said.

"I don't think so," Spider-Man said, closing the file and stepping back.

"It's mine. The man back at the car was a courier. Please, it's government material. Highly classified."

Daredevil listened to the man's voice, searching it for any change in pitch or variation that might indicate a lie, but found none. Still, there was something not quite right about this . . .

"And how do I know it's classified?" questioned Spider-Man.

"It says so on the front of the folder, in big red letters."

Spider-Man looked at the front. "Oh. Yeah. There it is."

"Give it to him, Spider-Man," Daredevil told him. Spider-Man complied, handing it over to the trench-coated man.

"Thank you," the man said, taking the folder under his arm. "I asked the courier to call the police right after he hung up with me. I suggest the both of you leave by then. And thank you for your assistance."

Spider-Man looked over at Daredevil - who had already vanished into thin air. Spider-Man shot up a web and took off. He swung across the street and half a block down and watched as the police arrived. He didn't see the trench-coated man again, which surprised him.

"So what was in that file?"

Gasping with surprise, Spider-Man turned around and faced Daredevil. "Geez! Give a guy a heart attack!"

Daredevil nodded. "Sorry."

"I couldn't make out much of it with the light we had back there. It looked like mostly stats and numbers. That's all."

"Anything jump out at you?"

"Yeah. One word, actually."

"And what's that?"

"'Wolverine.'"