"Leeds, I want that report on my desk within the hour! Robbie put this on page one." J. Jonah Jameson handed his editor a photo.
"Got it boss." Robbie turned around and walked toward his office.
"Urich, keep working on that damn follow up!"
Ben Urich looked up from his computer, scratching at his goatee. "But sir, the Spider-Man case! I'm sure I'm close."
Jameson lit a cigarette. "Doesn't matter if you are. We don't have any damn pictures of the Bug."
"Actually sir…" interrupted Betty Brant, Jameson's secretary.
She was medium height, with short, brunette hair, and a soft smile on her face. She was in her early twenties.
"Ah, Miss Brant. My coffee was supposed to be here seventeen point five seconds ago."
"I have a kid who claims he has pictures of Spider-Man."
Jameson sighed. "No coffee then? Alright. Let's see what this kid's got."
Betty stepped aside to reveal Peter, who stepped forward with a hand extended.
"Peter Parker, sir," greeted Peter.
Jameson looked him up and down as he puffed his cigarette. He scratched his grey and black hair. "Whatcha got for me kid?"
"A dozen photos of Spider-Man. Like the ad said." Peter handed him the portfolio.
Jameson snatched it from his hands and opened it. He scanned the photos.
"Crap, crap, crap, crap, extra crap, even more crap, crap, okay, decent, crap, unbelievable amount of crap, ah-ha. Robbie!"
"Yes sir?" replied Robbie, exiting his office and walking up.
"Change page one. Take Urich's story along with Parker's picture. Put his name on the byline."
Robbie took the picture and returned to his workplace.
"Thanks kid, real lifesaver there."
Jameson shut the portfolio and tucked it under his arm. Peter stood there, glaring him in the eye. Jameson took the cigarette out of his mouth as he exhaled in Peter's face.
"What are you waiting for? A handshake?"
This guy's unbelievable. How does he have anyone working for him?
"The ad said six hundred for a dozen. I want that money."
Jameson chuckled. "I like you kid. You've got spunk. I'll give you two-fifty and a ten dollar Amazon gift card. Sound good?"
Jameson turned around and started walking back to his office.
"No," replied Peter, a scowl on his face as he glared in annoyance. "The ad said six hundred for a dozen. Unless you want to give me my portfolio back, you pay up."
Jameson whirled around, eyes wide and eyebrows raised. The entire room had gone silent as reporters looked up from their computers and watched.
"Miss Brant!" barked Jameson, rooted to the spot.
Betty almost jumped out of her skin. "Sir?"
Jameson glared at Peter as he spoke. "Cut the punk a check for six hundred." He looked around. "Get back to work!"
The room was alive with activity again.
"And you!" growled Jameson as he advanced on Peter, jabbing a finger into his chest. "You bring me a stack of photos, I'll pay you. But never talk to me like that again. Are we clear?"
"Yes sir, Mr. Jameson."
Peter turned around.
"And Piper…"
"It's Peter, sir," corrected Peter.
Jameson waved his hands in the air. "Same thing. But, a piece of advice to you. You want a permanent job? Get a new camera."
"Yes sir."
As Peter walked toward the elevator, he overheard something from Urich.
"Can you believe it?" whispered Urich. "First a guy with a bow and arrow, then a guy who can run faster than anybody in the entire world, and now we have Spider-Man and a guy who's called the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. These vigilantes are popping up everywhere. Christ man."
A vigilante with a bow and arrow? I thought that guy from the Avengers was the only archer hero. And what's this about the fastest man alive?
Peter walked home, phone to his ear as it rung, waiting for Gwen to pick up. After several rings, she did.
"Peter?"
He smiled to himself. He loved hearing her beautiful, soft voice.
"Can you do me a favor?" he asked.
"Sure, what do you need?"
"Can you ask your dad to stop by my place tonight?"
"Sorry, Peter. He's going to be at the precinct until at least eleven tonight."
Peter sighed. "It's fine. Let me know when I can talk to him."
Well so much for a nice night at home.
Peter texted his Aunt, saying he was on assignment for his new job and wouldn't make it back until at least ten. After receiving a reply insisting he be careful, Peter checked the time. 5:32. He had a few hours to kill. Making his way into an alley, he suited up.
George Stacy was writing a report in his office when something tapped on his window. He jumped, grabbing his gun as he walked over. A note was taped to the other side. He pulled the window open and grabbed it, shutting it as he turned around. He examined the note: Rooftop. Three minutes. Scowling as his mind raced, he holstered his gun.
"Where you going Captain?" asked an officer who was having coffee with a friend.
"Thought I heard something, just going to check it out. No need to worry."
As he walked up the stairs, he took his gun out again, tightening his grip. Hands shaking slightly, he opened the door to the roof. Standing on the edge was a man in red and blue spandex. He spoke.
"You can put that away, Captain. I'm not here to hurt you."
Slowly, Stacy lowered his weapon. "How'd you know?"
"I sensed you. You're not as quite as you think." He turned around. "I need something from you." He spoke deeply. Stacy quickly identified the voice as fake.
Stacy scoffed. "How old are you? You're not very good at pretending."
"You don't need to know."
"So what is this? You just get to come here and ask me questions and I don't get to ask my own? Huh?" questioned the Captain, who was growing frustrated.
"I did some research and discovered there was another vigilante like me and the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. What can you tell me about The Arrow?"
Stacy stared at him incredulously. "I'm not at the liberty to…"
Spider-Man groaned. "Captain please. Just tell me what you know."
Grumbling, George responded. "Fine. Starling City's vigilante. Deceased. Identity: Roy Harper. He worked with a team of people. The Black Canary, Arsenal, Atom, and even the Flash sometimes."
Spider-Man stepped down from the edge and walked closer to George. "Roy Harper?"
"Yeah, you know him?"
"No." Yes. "But do you really think that if he was The Arrow, he'd just turn himself in? Who else is a suspect?"
"There was one guy. Detective Lance from the SCPD always thought he was The Arrow, even when court proved him wrong. Oliver Queen's his name. Bunch of baloney if you ask me. No way a former billionaire is a vigilante."
"Thank you, Captain."
He turned back around.
"Hey, wait a minute!" shouted Captain Stacy, as if he just realized he had a wanted criminal on the rooftop with him. "I'm gonna need to take you in for questioning!"
Smirking, Spider-Man walked off the roof.
As he made his way back home, his burner phone went off.
"Mask?" asked Peter, rotating the phone between each hand as he swung.
"Spider-Man." The vigilante's voice was hushed on the other end of the line. "It happens now. Tonight, we take out the Kingpin."
"One second."
He checked the time. Eight. I'm supposed to be home by ten. The Parker Luck strikes once more.
Placing the phone to his ear, he spoke again. "What do you need me to do?"
"I'll take the Kingpin, but I need you to take out 47. He's gonna be near Fisk Tower. Can you find him?"
Peter's spider sense went off. He let go of the web-line and fell, a bullet passing over his head. He shot another to stabilize himself. "I think he's found me! Good luck. I'll take care of this." Peter hung up.
Another shot.
Peter swung in an arc, turning around as he did so. "You're a persistent fella, ain't ya?"
He landed on the sniper's rooftop. "47, I presume."
The bald man tossed the sniper aside, grasped his blood red tie, and tugged at it.
"Right. Not one for small talk?"
Peter fired a web-line in an attempt to stop the man in his tracks. Instead, the man stepped to the side casually and continued forward. Peter's eyes widened. How is he faster than my webbing? The man struck first, sending a surprisingly agile kick at his chest. Peter caught it, but was taken off of his feet as the man leaned in and tackled him.
"What in the…"
47's fist connected with his face. He went for another, but Peter caught it and pushed him off.
"Don't make me pull out my spider-jitsu."
47 snorted and advanced again. Growling, Peter feinted right, using more of his super strength. 47 staggered back, but did not fall.
"Are you serious? That was supposed to knock you out!" complained Peter.
"I am a genetically enhanced being as well," spoke 47 in a gravelly voice.
"You got a sore throat there pal?" quipped Peter, flipping forward and kicking out with a roundhouse.
47 caught it and pulled him forward, slamming his fist into Peter's face. Groaning, Peter stumbled as the assassin advanced again, punching him in the gut and kneeing him in the face. Peter fell, vision swimming.
"You put up a decent fight, kid. But now it ends." 47 reached into his suit jacket and pulled out his signature silenced Silverballer.
"It's over!" shouted the Kingpin, spitting blood out of his mouth.
Daredevil, as he named himself, groaned as he lay on the ground, bloody and battered. His new costume, mainly red with a few black lines and horns coming out of the head and a DD symbol on the chest, had managed to deflect the majority of Kingpin's knife assault.
"You will be brought to justice!" growled Daredevil, pushing himself off the ground.
"And what will you do? Kill me? It's the only way!"
Clutching his stomach, Daredevil glared at Fisk. "No…it isn't."
He charged, upper-cutting Fisk in the stomach. Surprised, Fisk flinched, allowing Daredevil to connect a hard punch to his nose, shattering the bone. Fisk shouted in pain as a right hook rammed into his temple, followed by another uppercut to the chin. He collapsed in agony and fear.
Daredevil advanced, picking Wilson up by the collar of his shirt and slamming him back down, knocking him out.
"Justice will always win," he growled through his ragged gasps.
Peter dodged 47's shot and pressed his middle and ring fingers to his palm, firing a web-line that connected with the barrel of the gun. He pulled it forward, ripping it from the hands of the assassin. He charged, catching 47 off guard as he connected with a hook, followed by an uppercut and a knee. The assassin grabbed Peter as he staggered backward. He was pulled with him as they now stood on the edge of the rooftop. The assassin pulled out fiber wire and wrapped it around Peter's neck, tugging on it and choking him. Gasping, he reached anywhere he could, trying to grasp the assassin. Suddenly, as his vision turned dark, he lashed out, kicking backward. The assassin lost his footing and grip on the weapon, tumbling off the edge of the rooftop. Peter turned around, realizing what he'd done.
"NO!" he cried, diving off the rooftop without a second thought.
The cold air whipped around him as he descended, eyes locking onto 47's falling body. If it hadn't been such an intense moment, he would have spent some time on the fact that he would have looked like an idiot without the mask on. He snorted at the thought of his hair flailing everywhere and the skin on his cheeks flapping. He drew closer to 47 and grabbed him around the waist, firing a web-line at a nearby building. With a jerk, they were pulled into the air. He landed sloppily on the rooftop, dropping the cussing hitman in a heap. Groaning, Peter floundered forward and socked 47 in the jaw, knocking him out cold. He wrapped the assassin in webbing, leaving an opening at the nose to breathe out of.
Peter's head spun. Holy crap. Holy crap. That was so freaking scary. Oh God, I'm gonna be sick. He curled up the bottom of his mask as he violently hurled. He pinched the bridge of his nose and stared at one spot on the ground, trying to clear his head. His burner phone buzzed in his suit. Stumbling, he grasped at it with a shaky hand. He hit the answer button and brought it up to his ear.
"Black Mask?" whispered Peter, coughing as his body shook.
"Kingpin's down. What happened on your end?"
Peter glanced at the webbed up body. "He's taken care of."
"Good job out there. Thanks for the help."
"No problem," replied Peter, hacking into the phone.
"Hey, you okay? You don't sound too good."
Peter took several breaths of air before answering. "Yeah…yeah, I'm fine. No need to worry."
"Good. And Spider-Man?"
"Yeah Mask?"
"Call me Daredevil."
AN: Sorry if this chapter seemed a little rushed. I actually had this planned out very differently, but decided to scrap and rewrite. For the people wondering, yes there will be some DC heroes introduced. This is a bold move on my part considering this is a Spider-Man story, but I love the DC and Marvel crossover comics so I decided to add a few specifically chosen DC characters into this story. They will not play important roles, but I like the fact that they will be there. Also, no, this is not the last we will see of Kingpin. The next arc will be titled: The Enforcers.
Please let me know what you think in your reviews!