Gwen Stacy was a normal girl by every facet of the word – at least she thought so. Natural vanities aside, she held herself to a level of self-awareness, not only because of her parents, but also because the alternative never really appealed to her.
Yes, she was the daughter of the NYPD Captain, but it seemed as if everyone expected her to act in an unexplainable rebellious way, as if doing so would be some great balance to her father's profession.
She wasn't a party girl, no thank you. Science fairs and biological publishings it was. She did not hang out with the 'hot girls' in school as it were, which in high school speak meant that she was either a stuck-up or a nerd. High school said she was both.
They also said that she was not 'boujee' and that she definitely was not a city girl – despite her living in the city for her whole life.
So yes, she was a normal girl without any of the social bonuses most girls would get had they been in her position, but she didn't mind.
She loved her books. She loved her parents. She loved being a model student. She loved her science fairs, and she loved her grades — you know, normal girl things.
Normal girls don't figure out Spider-Man's secret identity.
No, let her rephrase that.
Normal girls don't figure out Spider-Man's secret identity only to find out that the supposed 'man' under the suit was just a teenager like her. A teenager that just so happens to go to her school, shares the same classes with her and usually sits two seats behind her.
Normal girls don't figure out a superhero's secret identity – due to their own carelessness – only to find out that the person under the mask is the same person she's had a soft crush('soft') on for two years now.
Peter Parker was an idiot of baffling levels that had Gwen wondering why he wasn't yet behind bars or dead. Why would he let a normal, slightly nerdy, girl figure out his secret identity(his only safety net for crying out loud!) when he knew her father was in the force?!
She has been trying to wrap her head around it for two weeks now and the only realization she came to was that Peter Parker was an idiot.
It took her three days to see how truly tired he was in class due to swinging around the city, emoting and yee-hawing at 3am.
So here she was, a normal girl walking through Queens after school because Peter Parker, once again, had proven that academic genius did not equate common sense by letting a normal high school girl mark out his strange routine.
She momentarily forgot how much she geeked out when she realized that she could ask him how he came up with his webshooters and what kind of synthesized materials his suit was made out of, because it definitely wasn't 100% cotton nor was it regular spandex. (She had seen the video of the Goblin chucking two weird grenades to his chest and the only thing those suit suffered were soot marks)
"Oh my God," she muttered under her breath in disbelief. "I can't believe you're letting Parker rub off on you, Gwendolyn."
What the hell was she thinking going to check out a pawnshop just because she had seen Peter visiting the shop a few times in the last two weeks.
She was raised by her father not to judge people by how they look and also on how to be a good judge of character and she steadfastly followed those advice, which was how she knew that some of the people going into the shop at intervals were not your normal average citizen.
Once she had seen a bald man with a complete black-on-black regalia, including a trench coat and an eyepatch, leave the shop and she was almost certain he glanced at her.
What if this was where they got their hero stuff, or a front for underground black market stuff?
"God, please don't let me die because of a careless hot nerd." She muttered a prayer and adjusted her backpack. She was quickly recognizing how careless her actions were but her feet kept dragging her forward.
This was not what normal girls did.
What would she even do if it was not just some neighborhood pawnshop where Peter liked hanging out in? Tell her dad? Then tell him about Spider-Man?
This was easily the scariest thing she had done in her life and the thing that nagged her most was the thought that she should have changed her boots to casual shoes.
She pushed the door open, and somehow didn't flinch from the jumpscare the bell gave her.
What if they had some type of secret password that granted permit into the backrooms? She thought about that nervously as she did the polite thing of calling out to whoever was around.
"Over here." She heard someone reply over a conversation and crossed her heart as she prepared to make contact.
She came across the broker, given his place behind the counter and how clean-pressed his clothes were, clean cut and looking more professional than any roadside pawnbroker had any right to be. In front of him was a mountain of muscle and rigid sternness that reminded her of her dad if her dad was twice as big and frowned more.
'Confidence, Gwen, confidence.' She sang in her mind as she walked towards them. 'Was it a code? Lord, please let it not be a code.'
"Hi." Home training killed whatever plan she was trying to cook up. The man behind the counter gave her a 'hello' while the other customer just grunted.
"It's alright, I can wait." She said quickly when she saw the look between the owner and the customer. Right, she was just a high school kid.
She had absolutely no plan whatsoever by coming here. It would have been a hundred times better if she had just confronted Peter instead of whatever this was, but nooo. She wanted to try not being a normal girl for once and here she was.
She decided to busy herself and started looking around – and keeping her ears open – from where she stood, and while it wasn't her interest, she could see boys liking these sorts of stuff.
She was halfway through wondering why a pawnshop was filled with prop items when something about the trade that was going on beside her caught her interest.
"Sorry, but I couldn't help but overhear that you're looking for good bulletproof vests, you can ask in the shooting range down at 2nd." She did not mention why he would bother asking for vests in a pawnshop, but she also did not forget that she should just have kept her mouth quiet. She was a curious, normal girl. Who could blame her!
Thankfully the owner did not look angry and the man asking only snorted. "I'm not looking for law enforcement kit, kid. I'm not looking for something that can handle a .30m round, I'm looking for something that can ignore it."
The confidence he spoke with made her more curious than doubtful, as if he knew he could find something like that here instead of asking a legal consultant.
He pushed something towards her and her curious mind immediately latched onto it.
—Arasaka Polycarbonate-Laced Bulletproof Aramid Vest(Fully modded) (Cyberpunk 2077): One of Arasaka's high-end armor systems in the fabrics class, mostly fitted for their high level corporate operatives and agents.
Capable of shrugging off most, if not all, standard rounds. Increased resistance to high end armor piercing and laser rounds. High shock dispenser.
It looks stylish and keeps you safe from the monstrous 'street-tier' firearms.
Price: $15,000
Obviously, this was some—Peter Parker is Spider-Man. She nodded her head, finding it completely acceptable, and read the other one.
—Arasaka's Smartweave(Fully modded) (Cyberpunk 2077): The pride child of Arasaka's success in dominating the fabrics and security sector that makes all their former designs look normal.
Hailed as intelligent and reactive, it contains microsensors that instantly reads and reacts to incoming damage – hardening or softening to redirect or nature the nature of the force.
Small rounds, high rounds – with this fully modded kit, the distinction doesn't matter. It absorbs and redistributes high fall damage, being kicked through buildings and taking a grenade to the face.
It supports cybernetic implants, regulates temperatures, and assists in maneuverability.
*It is weak to high frequency and monomolecular weapons. And maybe a demonic hacker if you can find one.
Price: $25,000.
Act normal. Act normal, Gwen. She looked at the man with apparent confusion on her face. "And you're having trouble picking one?"
She could see the instinctual reaction to brush her off on his face but he remained polite, even as he grunted, and pointed at something on the second note which made her look at him again.
"I doubt you're going to be running into someone with a monomolecular weapon or a 'demonic hacker' anytime soon."
She did not question the fact that no one should sell an armor vest or fabric for twenty five thousand, or the fact that something like that probably did not exist. Maybe. Who knows?
The man looked between her and the tag and then pushed it back to the owner. "The second one."
The owner nodded. "Home delivery?"
The man looked at her again and nodded with a sigh. He was like her father on days when he was tired. She did not question it, just like how she did not question anything else.
"Is there anything I can help you with?"
She panicked and said the first thing that came to her mind. "Um, yes, glasses, yes." This was not what she was supposed to be doing with her time. How did a crush and a secret get her here?
She swallowed her embarrassment and marched on with the half-lie. "Reading glasses. I broke mine two days ago." Unneeded information, but the fact that Peter frustrated her enough to break her glasses by mistake needed to be established.
A case with a tag was put in front of her.
—Gale Force Reading Glasses: A magical item in the form of a pair of spectacles. Wearing these allows one to read books much faster. Allowing them to read any book they are holding 64x faster without sacrificing reading comprehension.
Price: $1,000
"What?" she exclaimed as she saw the price, momentarily forgetting that she was 'undercover'. The description was… well she had nothing to say about it but the thought of spending a thousand dollars on glasses was a hurtful one. She was a normal girl, not a stupid one.
"Is it… are you sure…" God, she was so out of depth right now that she was finding it deeply concerning. Is it magic or is it not? Was the man beside her really spending thousands on a vest? "Can't you go any lower?"
"$950." He said and her eyes glinted. She could haggle.
"$350." She counter-offered. "I'm not in administration, I just need them for homework."
"I can get you the normal ones if you want. $930."
"You brought these out because you wanted me to buy them. "$450. I still need my lunch money."
The man shook his head lightly. "$900. I can't go below that for what they are worth."
"You can, and I'm not denying their worth but 900 is too much for these. I'll still be doing the reading and comprehending. It saves me time, yes, but also gives me more work at the same time. $490. I'm not going over $500."
The man shook his head and picked up the case. "I'm sorry but I can't sell it for that low."
"$700. She'll take it." To her surprise the man beside her took the case from the owner and tossed it to her.
"Thank you, but you didn't have to." She said as she caught it. "I'm Gwen by the way."
"You'll need them for school." He said as he handed over his card to pay. He looked about to leave but paused to grunt. "Frank."
She thanked Frank again and was about to follow him to leave when someone came around the corner.
"Peter." She blurted out in shock, even as her stomach did that funny thing it started doing recently, while Peter looked just as surprised to see her, maybe with a little more panic.
"Hey, Peter. How was school?"
"I-it was fine, Mr. Isaac." He stuttered as he looked between her and the owner. "Gwen, hi."
She was content to leave it there and take her findings home and worry herself to frustration while he swung carelessly around the city, but for once Gwen was tired of doing something normal.
She grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the store while he looked stunned, opening and closing his mouth without a word.
"Not a word, webhead." She felt him tense up and almost snorted when she saw his cute shocked expression. She pushed him to a secluded corner and wore a copy of her mum's stern face.
"Now talk." He was a careless idiot and, crush or not, she was not about to allow him to continue that way.
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A/N: Sorry for the week-long disappearance. I was hit with a debuff – The Flu.
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