Midnight in New York looks different from up here, the city's heartbeat visible in pulses of light, the streets like veins carrying life through concrete arteries. My fingers trace the crimson panels of my new jacket, the material smoother than I expected, yet strong enough to stop a knife. Maybe even a bullet if I'm lucky, though I'm not exactly eager to test that theory.
Two weeks. That's all it took Leah to craft this masterpiece. I'd expected months of waiting, but apparently when Spider-Woman calls in a favor, things happen fast. The jacket fits like it was made for me, because, well, it was. Black leather with those striking red accents, reversible so I can blend in when needed. The gold mask sits comfortably against my face, its faceted design catching moonlight in geometric patterns.
I stretch my arms above my head, feeling the reinforced material move with me rather than against me. No restriction. Perfect for teleporting. My brass knuckles rest heavy in my pocket, a comforting weight against my thigh.
"Skip Step," I whisper to myself, testing how my new identity feels on my tongue. "Not bad."
The sound of a web line cuts through the night air, and I turn just in time to see a familiar red and blue figure swinging toward my perch. Spider-Woman lands gracefully on the edge of the rooftop, her movements fluid in a way I can only dream of achieving someday.
"Shane?" she asks, her mask's white eyes widening slightly in recognition despite my disguised face.
"What's up, Spidey?" I reply, trying to sound casual while my inner fanboy is having a complete meltdown. I'm standing on a rooftop in costume, talking to Spider-Woman as a fellow hero. This might be the coolest moment of my entire life.
She takes a step closer, her head tilting as she examines my outfit. "You look great…," she says, then quickly corrects herself. "I mean, you look like a real superhero."
A warm glow of pride spreads through my chest at her approval. "It's thanks to you," I tell her, unable to keep the gratitude from my voice. "I really appreciate you reaching out to Leah for me. That was seriously kind of you."
"Don't mention it," she says, waving off my thanks as she circles around me, inspecting the suit from all angles. "Leah does amazing work. The mask is especially cool, very distinctive."
"Yeah, it's perfect," I agree, running my fingers along the geometric edges of the golden faceplate. "Lightweight, folds up small enough to fit in my pocket, and it doesn't restrict my peripheral vision at all."
Spider-Woman shifts her weight, crossing her arms over her chest as she studies me. "So what'd you choose for a name?"
"Skip Step," I announce.
She lets out a laugh, the sound somehow both warm and teasing through her mask. "Well, welcome to the hero world, Skipper."
I freeze mid-stretch, my arms dropping to my sides. "No, that's horrible. Don't call me that."
"Too late, Skipper," she says, and I can hear the grin in her voice even if I can't see it through her mask. "The die has been cast."
"Skipper is absolutely not going to be my superhero name," I argue, dramatically clutching my chest.
"With great power comes great nicknames," she quips.
"Oh wow, big words from the Human Spider," I mock.
Spider-Woman's mask eyes widen dramatically. "Dang, you know my deep lore, huh? Not many people know about that."
"Maybe," I say with a casual shrug, trying to play it cool despite the thrill running through me. Part of me wants to tell her I know way to much about her, but that would definitely come off as creepy stalker behavior rather than interdimensional comic book nerd.
She stares at me for a long moment, her expression unreadable behind that featureless mask. The white eyes give nothing away, and I find myself wishing I could see her real face, gauge her actual reaction. The silence stretches between us, just long enough to make me fidget uncomfortably.
"So," she finally says, her voice softer than before, "do you want help on your first time on patrol?"
"Yes, please," I reply immediately, not even trying to hide my enthusiasm.
"Alright, Skipper," she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice. "Let's start with the basics. First rule of patrol, stay close to me and don't try anything heroic without checking with me first."
"That's just gonna end up with you acting like some overprotective big sister to me."
Without responding, Spider-Woman launches herself off the building with graceful confidence, shooting a web to slow her descent before landing perfectly on the sidewalk below.
I focus on the spot right behind her, gathering that familiar electric energy beneath my skin. The world bends around me, and in an instant, I'm standing directly behind her.
"Boo!" I whisper, my voice just loud enough to carry.
"Ahhh!" she yelps performatively, jumping slightly before whipping around to face me.
"I figured it'd be easier to do your first night on the street," she says, smoothly recovering her composure. "Less jumping between buildings, more actual patrolling."
She steps closer, her mask's white eyes narrowing slightly. "Seriously though, stay close. New York at night isn't forgiving to rookie heroes."
"Got it. So what exactly are we looking for?"
Spider-Woman gestures down the dimly lit street. "Muggings, break-ins, assaults, the usual. Most nights are boring, though."
"What?" I ask, my brow furrowing beneath my gold mask. "You're saying most nights are just walking around with nothing happening?"
Spider-Woman shrugs, her shoulders rising and falling with casual grace. "Well, at least at your level, boring is what you should be shooting for. Maybe some bar fights, petty theft, stuff like that. If I were you, I wouldn't even consider fighting anyone powered up for a while."
I absorb her words, feeling a small twinge of disappointment. Part of me had been hoping for some grand villain confrontation on my first night out, something epic to commemorate my official superhero debut. But the rational part of my brain knows she's right.
"I'm just here to save people, Spidey," I say, my voice quiet but firm. "Doesn't matter if it's from a supervillain or just some drunk jerk. Helping is helping."
"I get it."
We continue our patrol, walking side by side through the shadows between streetlights. The city breathes around us, cars passing occasionally, distant laughter from late-night revelers, the constant urban hum that never quite dies even in the darkest hours. My new boots make almost no sound on the pavement, another testament to Leah's craftsmanship.
After several minutes of comfortable silence, Spider-Woman clears her throat.
"So," she begins, her tone deliberately casual, "what's the deal with you and Venom?"
"I'm madly in love with her, but she's... making it difficult."
Spider-Woman stops dead in her tracks, her mask's white eyes widening to comical proportions. "You're WHAT?"
I laugh and shake my head, realizing how dramatic that sounded. "Well, maybe not love. Not yet anyway." I rub the back of my neck, suddenly self-conscious under Spider-Woman's intense stare. "I've been asking her out non-stop for a while now, but she's been ghosting me for like two weeks straight."
I shrug, trying to appear more nonchalant about it than I actually feel. The truth is, Ellie's absence has been gnawing at me more than I want to admit, even to myself.
"Might be time to move on," I say, kicking at a pebble on the sidewalk. "Focus on the hero thing instead."
Spider-Woman's mask eyes narrow as she steps closer. "Look, Skipper, she's bad news. That symbiote is no good." Her voice drops lower, more serious than I've ever heard it. "You don't understand what that thing does to people."
"Venom's actually a good person underneath all that angst," I argue, feeling strangely defensive of Ellie despite her rejection. "She just has a chip on her shoulder the size of Avengers Tower. The symbiote amplifies that, sure, but it doesn't change who she fundamentally is."
"Seriously?" Spider-Woman throws her hands up in exasperation. "You're way too nice for someone like her. She'll eat you alive, and I mean that literally."
I can't help but laugh at her melodrama. "Spidey, come on, don't be like that. Not everyone with powers has to be either a perfect hero or a villain. Some people are just... complicated."
"Complicated?" Spider-Woman scoffs, resuming our patrol with quicker strides that I have to teleport to keep up with. "She tried to kill me multiple times. That's not 'complicated,' that's homicidal."
"When was the last time she actually tried to kill you though?" I ask, crossing my arms as we continue our patrol through the shadowy streets.
Spider-Woman's pace falters for a moment. "The night you were bleeding out of your eyes," she replies flatly. "She was literally in the middle of trying to kill me when you decided to teleport yourself half to death."
"Then I've done well," I say, unable to keep a hint of pride from my voice.
She stops walking and turns to face me fully, her mask eyes narrowing in confusion. "What are you talking about?"
"You got her to stop targeting me?" There's genuine surprise in her voice, like she can't quite believe what she's hearing.
I rub the back of my neck, suddenly feeling awkward under her intense stare. "I'm not sure for how long exactly, but yeah, I asked her to leave you alone. More or less."
"More or less?" Spider-Woman echoes, her voice rising slightly. "What does that even mean?"
I shrug, scratching at the edge of my mask where it's starting to itch against my skin. "Well, that's not exactly how I worded it, but if she's not dating me she might try to fight you again."
Spider-Woman laughs as if i didn't just tell her a gigantic monster might try to kill her again. "If you're looking for someone to date..." she says, her voice taking on a lighter tone, "I do know this girl. She's my personal photographer."
"Parker is a wonderful girl, Spidey," I reply, trying to keep my face neutral behind my mask, "but she's not my type."
"Oh?" Spider-Woman crosses her arms, head tilting curiously. "You don't like nice girls? Are you the type of guy that only likes jerks?"
I sigh, leaning against a nearby wall. "I think Parker has a lot going on in her life, and I don't think I'd even be able to be her third or fourth priority. Nor would I ask her to change her lifestyle for me."
Spider-Woman nods, something in her posture shifting. "I guess Parker is a busy lady," she says stiffly.
I laugh, trying my hardest not to make fun of her for pretending not to be Piper. The mental gymnastics she must be doing right now are Olympic-level.
"What's so funny?" she asks, her mask eyes narrowing.
"Nothing," I say, my voice softer than intended.
Spider-Woman studies me for a moment longer, her mask eyes narrowing slightly like she knows I'm holding something back. But she doesn't press the issue, just nods and gestures down the street.
"Come on, Skipper. Still plenty of night left to patrol."