[quote=@HenryJonesJr]Still, Steve knew that if Sharon was waiting for him, he'd be as anxious as the younger man was to get out of here. He nodded to Coulson, who took a case out of the SHIELD transport he arrived in. The agent opened it, and from the case Steve pulled two SHIELD communicators. He tossed one to Spider-Man, [color=slateblue]"Sure thing, Spider-Man. But take this. If my gut is right, we're going to be in touch. I doubt whoever hired Marko will let you out of his web now."[/color]
[/quote]

[color=ed1c24][b]"Well. That certainly isn't foreboding at all..."[/b][/color]

As I look down at the piece of tech that Captain America just gave to me - and yes, I'm going to keep referring to him as Captain America because [i]it's still freaking cool as heck[/i] - I realize that despite only being a micro-transponder with the SHIELD logo stamped onto it's center above two little buttons, the communicator I'm holding is probably worth more than my clothes, apartment, phone, and yearly salary combined. And that thought nearly makes me drop it out of sheer unworthiness. I mean, I'm a nobody from Queens who runs a website for a paper that specializes in trashing my own name on a daily basis. And now I'm suddenly holding a direct line to Captain America. To SHIELD. 

Though, oh god, what if... what if this thing can be used to track me? What if Nick Fury set all of this up to get to the bottom of my totally secret identity that he already probably knows? What if I press a button and, I dunno, a blonde from outer space touches down and gives me a wedgie with her cosmic powers? 

Yeah, okay, no more of that. Flights of fancy like that are when I [i]know[/i] that I'm just being paranoid. Webbing the communicator up, I fold the web over it like a wallet and attach another line, draping it over my shoulder like the world's gooiest man-purse. It's the price I pay for wearing a costume with no pockets.

[b][color=ed1c24]"But yeah, you're right. I have enough experience at this point to know when an anonymous bad guy is planning something bigger by hiring one of [i]my[/i] enemies as a big, dumb distraction."[/color][/b], I respond. [color=ed1c24][b]"Seriously. It happens more often than I'd even care to admit."[/b][/color]

Now that I think about it, what if the guy behind Sandman [i]is[/i] one of my old enemies? I mean, usually, this is all some precursor to some new incarnation of The Sinister Six, or a gigantic prelude to a dark chapter in my life involving clones. Marko mentioned a European accent. Otto Octavius has an accent, but... no. He'd have been alot less subtle. The guy once tried to kill me while calling himself "The Master Planner", for Sith's sake. 

Well, whatever. Cap and his team are on the case, and I've got an afternoon date with a hot redhead to get back to --- once I change clothes and shake the sand out of my socks. I think as far as ongoing cases involving giant sand monster men go, I can consider this one "pending" for now. 

Really, though, these tights are practically bunching up with sand. I'm gonna develop a rash if I don't get them off. 

[color=ed1c24][b]"Pleasure to work with you, Cap. I'd say we should do this more often, but I actually make an effort to keep Avenger-level threats out of my life. I've got enough on my plate as-is without fighting space aliens and unphotogenic Nazis."[/b][/color]

I give him another dorky salute and turn around, accidentally finding myself face-to-face with the grizzled duck person that also managed to get a nice piece of SHIELD tech. I have to admit, as weird of a takedown as it was, the Duck pulled through and took out Sandman like a pro. I just... wish I didn't have to suffer the personal embarassment of forcibly doing a 90's dance craze as he did it.

[color=ed1c24][b]"You too, uh... Howard."[/b][/color], I say, stopping myself from nearly calling him Harold again. [b][color=ed1c24]"Good work with the glove-thingy. Just please, try not to make me do that again. I have to suck up enough manhood by going out in broad daylight dressed like this."[/color][/b]

Waving, I pass Fowl-Mouthed and Feathered up just as the rest of SHIELD and a... grown man in a diaper arrives to rendezvous with Captain America, leap onto a nearby street lamp, and fire a webline into the air. At this point, I question nothing. But by the time all's said and done, I'm web-slinging my way back to Central Park with barely a few bruises, a partially dirty leotard, and some very uncomfortable itching to show for it. All in all, could've been worse.

Then again...

[IMG]https://i.imgur.com/4LrM09w.png[/IMG]

[b][color=ed1c24]"How the heck am I ever going to explain to Mary Jane that I fought a guy while doing the Macarena?"[/color][/b]