550/As Two Spiders Connect...

As Two Spiders Connect...
Date of Scene:	16 March 2020
Location:	Gramercy Park
Synopsis:	Spidey gets some unexpected help from the OG Spider-Woman.
Cast of Characters:	Peter Parker, Jessica Drew

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Peter Parker has posed:
This is supposed to be a NICE place to live.

Tiffany Shoemaker's family did NOT make shoes. They made money. Venture capitalists. Which meant, at the age of 20, Tiffany would never want for money for the rest of her life, as long as the trust fund held out. She was already through her second year as a freshman. Classes were boring, and tests were too stressful. She figured she could take her time, graduate with a liberal arts degree, and then live off the trust fund for the rest of her life, safely insulated from the harsh real world.

She smirked as she walked her little Pomeranian, Juliet, along the path, wearing yoga pants, $200 cross-trainers, and a little halter top that suggested she should think about a boob job...

When she heard the click as the hammer on the revolver was pulled back, she thought a branch had snapped. Then Juliet growled and she looked up to see two men, one with a pistol. A revolver of some kind.
She gave them a puzzled look as one of them said, "Money, jewelry. Right now."

Jessica Drew has posed:
Jessica and the little shivery thing at the end of the leash had reached a detente of sorts. She swore to herself that the next time she took her out that she would have a hoodie up, hiding her face, with Gramercy Dog Walking blazoned across the back so people would know that it wasn't her dog. Oh, the price of friendship. A leaf blowing would set it, named Princess Sweetie, aka Sweetie, trembling. As it is, she is not dressed for the neighborhood, purple Converses, skinny black jeans and a good camel hair coat, more Soho chic than Gramercy money.

Cities even after years of accustoming herself to the cacophony still challenge her ability to sort through the noise. The particular snick of a revolver being cocked makes her stop in her tracks, Sweetie coming to an equally abrupt end of her rhinestone (yes) leash. Head swiveling to hone in on the sound, Jessica makes an obstacle for a pair of joggers that impatiently divide to run around her.

Peter Parker has posed:
Tiffany still seemed confused. She was being robbed? Ridiculous. That sort of thing happened to OTHER people.
"Oh, get out of my way. I have to be at the restaurant in one hour, and...

The revolver erupted, the flash hitting first, the sound that seemed to fill the world second, and then the smell of cordite, and suddenly it is REAL, this is happening to HER, she thought she was SAFE...
"Going to be stupid, little girl?" The man with the gun moved forward, the gun lowering to point at her.
Tiffany suddenly realized that her money was not going to protect her now, and she seemed to crumple and dwindle. She shudders as she grabs her little fanny-pack, fumbling with the buckle.
"Just shoot her," the other man said.
The gunman shrugged, raising the gun...

THWIPP!

And suddenly the gun is gone. it has been replaced by a grey basketball that is covering the gun, and his hand to boot.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Conscientious, Jessica carries Sweetie in an arm hold over the side of the fence that she takes one-handed. A blur to any witness, a yipping blur in this case, as she outpaces a would-be Olympic sprinter with a chihuahua under her arm. Running up behind the men, without ceremony, she drops the dog and lifts her hands, palms up as if pleading for them to stop. A blast of blue strikes both the men square in the back.

Peter Parker has posed:
Tiffany squeaks as the raven-haired woman just...appears behind the men. She backpedals, falling on her rump and yelping as Juliet jumps onto her belly, thinking it is playtime. She scoots back on her butt, fraying the expensive pants on the rough pavement.

The two men drop, convulsing as every nerve seems to be frying in their skin. All conscious thought is relegated to Optional as they try to recover from the blasts. When the convulsions subside to twitching, a blast of webbing from overhead pins them to the path, webbing blankets tucking them into a somewhat-relaxing position.

From above, a voice says, "Jeez, lady, what'd you do? Taser them?"

Tiffany looks up to see Spider-Man perched on a tree limb thirty feet above the ground, looking down at Jessica.

Jessica Drew has posed:
Princess Sweetie seemed to enjoy her joy ride enough to forget being a shivering princess. She strolls over to sniff the Pomeranian's butt skirting the men struggling under the web pinions. Black mane of hair brushing the middle of her back, Jessica cranes her head to find the origin of the disembodied voice. "Venom blast, of sorts. Least, that is what I call it. Bio-electricity, if you must," she replies haughtily, in the accents of the British upper class.

A whimper from the girl on the ground takes her to her side. Offering her a hand up, "Are you alright?"

Peter Parker has posed:
Tiffany scrambled to her feet. She had seen what those hands had done and she wanted no part of it. She just wanted to get away from the weird woman with the taser-hands. She wanted to go back to her paid-for condo, settle into her heated jacuzzi, and forget this horrible scene ever happened.

She ran off towards the high-rise condo she came from, her butt revealing a rip in the right buttock.

Spider-Man shrugged, then dropped to the path, landing in a crouch and rising smoothly. "Well...thanks for the assist. If you read the BUGLE, you know who I am...but I'm not a bad guy, in spite of J. Jonah Jameson's opinion." He tilts his head. "Do you have a code name of some kind, or are you still new to this?"

Jessica Drew has posed:
"I've seen it on the newsstands but don't read it. Sensationalism doesn't appeal." Jessica looks the man up and down, "People who insist they are good guys often aren't. The man doth protest, perhaps, too much?" There is the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Pushing her hair back over her shoulder, she considers her answer, "I'm new to New York, not to..." She makes a vague gesture holding her hands palm up, "...this. Spider Woman," she adds without explanation.

Peter Parker has posed:
Spidey ohs. "I THOUGHT there was someone using that name. Sorry, another Spider-lady I know was debating names to be known as. I told her Spider-Woman was taken, but I didn't know by who. So she went with Ghost Spider, instead." He shrugs idly. "Well, it's nice to see another hero out and about. I always appreciate seeing someone else..."

Spidey stopped, looking down at the chihuahua. "Uhm...dog-sitting?" He sounds curious instead of scornful. He's had to maintain his rep as the best dog-walker in Queens, after all.

Jessica Drew has posed:
"Spider-lady," she repeats, tasting the sobriquet. "Well, she wouldn't be the only woman in this world or others wishing to own the name, Spider Woman. Thank you for that." Jessica contemplates Sweetie with a rueful edge to her mouth, "Indeed. Meet Princess Sweetie, owned by a client of mine, well, a friend really."

Amused, both at herself and the man's matter-of-fact talk of heroes, "It is rather nice to know that one isn't the only one on the street, isn't it? Are you from here?"

Peter Parker has posed:
Spider-Man nodded, kneeling down to greet the little animal. He slides his hand palm-up, and lower than the dog's head, so Sweetie wouldn't think he was trying to hit her. "Lived in New York City all my life. Can't imagine living anywhere else, really. When it comes down to it, I'm only one story out of eight million. To paraphrase Jimmy Breslin. He was the reporter in the Son of Sam case in the 1970's." He touches under the dog's jaw, if she'll let him. "You sound like you're from out of town. British...West End, or London proper?"

Jessica Drew has posed:
Crouching down on the other side of the dog, Jessica watches the man's adroit touch with Sweetie who is not one to instantly take to strangers. Well, generally not. The woman gives him a sharp look then watches Sweetie behave like the man is a long lost litter mate. One sniff and she leans into his hand. Eyes still fixed on the chihuahua, "Oxford, I suppose. My parents...my father Eton. But I grew up in Transia. There is something about New York that keeps New Yorkers here, isn't there? Besides, you may be one story but a rather large one, at that."

Peter Parker has posed:
Spidey rubs the dog's little muzzle, then the side of its head. "Not that large. And less famous and more infamous. But still...there's room in New York for a working-class superhero, right? Because some heroes save the world. And there are some who save John and Jane Citizen from the low men and women who prey on them. That's me. And that's okay. There are no small jobs, only small people."

Jessica Drew has posed:
"Working class hero. Is that what you call yourself? As if hero has different grades of heroism." Shaking her head, she reaches out to scratch Sweetie between the her shoulder blades, another sweet spot. In a thoughtful voice, "There are no small jobs, really. 'No man is an island entire of itself', etc. But the people here must be glad for you, most of the time when they can make room for someone so different. Aren't you ever afraid the government will come after you?"

Peter Parker has posed:
Spider-Man sighs. "Right now, the only ones after me are the cops. But if the government came after me...? Well, I don't think about that. I have enough problems to worry about some nebulous agency going after Spider-Man. Simply put...I ain't worth the hassle. There's a benefit to being a bargain-basement hero. No one high up cares about you. And it's not like I'm political or anything. What's political about saving lives without killing or even hurting people seriously? And of course, the BUGLE would eat it up, page one and all."

Jessica Drew has posed:
"The coppers are rather, how should I put it? Intrusive." She looks up from pampering Sweetie who would be willing to stand all day for this treatment. "They don't like vigilantes, do they? I hope that woman has the sense enough to think I had a taser. Speaking of which." Jessica gives a look over her shoulder at the two men intermittently struggling under the webbing. "That was a rather neat trick. What shall we do with them?"

Peter Parker has posed:
Spidey gives the little animal a final petting, then stands up. "Welp, I'm just going to call the cops on this not-so-dynamic duo. I'm sure that the pistol itself will have enough evidence to lock them up. And the trust-fund baby will most likely call it in. Even if she doesn't, I suspect these two will be pretty worried about this happening again." He waved to the two pinned to the street path. "I've got a phone with a spoofed number but a legit geotag, so the cops will have no trouble finding these clowns." He points down the path. "Do you have someplace to go, or is there anything I can do for you?"

Jessica Drew has posed:
"Oh? Well, that is clever, very clever. Something I should know how do myself." She stands, giving a swift glance around them. "Someone is coming, we should move on. I was walking the Princess here on my way towards finding a good cup of coffee and one of those bagels. Any recommendations?"

Peter Parker has posed:
Spider-Man points to the northern path. "Let's go this way." He takes out a phone that's seen better days and dials a number. "Hey. This is your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man here to report a couple of muggers in Gramercy Park, northeast section...hey Bertie. Yep, get a spatula. One of them has a pistol, recently fired. Yep. The usual. Bye."

He hangs up, then said, "Two minutes, then the cops will show up...RIGHT. Bagel's. Well, there's a deli down the street a couple of blocks. Pretty good bagels, but a bit out of my budget..."

As is most of Gramercy.

Jessica Drew has posed:
"My treat...or rather, the Princess is treating today." Jessica smiles for the first time, lighting the pale oval of her face into something distinctly different. "I mean, if you wouldn't mind."

Peter Parker has posed:
"Well, I suppose I won't say no, as long as it's one of those cinnamon roll bagels." Spider-Man chuckles, then says, "Follow me. I never lead anyone wrong when it comes to food."

And off they go, strolling into the comfortable night.