imagine one day spidey is held up by the new york city police department, and he’s expecting the same old bullshit of “this stupid spider menace vigilante blah blah blah” like the cops in queens always say to him, but instead he’s met with a 30 year old brooklyn cop who is less concerned with peter being a vigilante, and is more concerned with peter’s powers. he won’t stop asking peter about his spider powers, how they work, how he got them, how he would rate them on a scale of “cool” to “toit”
and finally peter gets a word in edgewise and is like “not that this isn’t refreshing compared to the way the police usually treat me, but what kinda cop are you again??” and the cop is like “i’m actually a detective, jake peralta from the 99th precinct. anyways can you summon an army of spiders or is that just a rumor?? oh my god can you talk to them, can you ask the spiders if they like die hard??”
this is a fic i wasnt aware i needed
As soon as I read “toit”, I said “Jake Peralta” froze, and felt my soul leave my body. Thank you for this.
Another idea: I just imagine Amy tracking Spidey down with evil villain level accuracy because she wants to get his autograph for Jake for his birthday.
Okay, but now all I’m picturing is Spiderman landing at the top of some huge building, ready for an absolutely epic monologue. It’s been a rough night and he’s stopped all this…badness, but it feels never-ending, more and more piling up, in the streets, in the alleys, on his shoulders-his spidey-senses go off just in time for the little window next to him to pop open and Amy’s there.
She found him by triangulating all of his usual high traffic areas and using the pictures published by The Daily Bugle to figure out where his usual perches are and then, of course, she just followed the webbing. She tells him all of this while showing him the special binder she made especially for this and assuring him that she’ll properly dispose of it as soon as she gets home (and maybe looks a little too proud when she says that her shredder can handle the laminated cardboard).
She’s just trying to get the selfie Jake took of Spiderman and him signed, she’s got it in a laminated pocket and she brought her own permanent marker and everything.
Pete figured that’ll be the end of it, a fan who is…particularly enthusiastic. But then she’s breaking out the thermos of cocoa and the tupperware, telling him she wasn’t sure about any allergies so she made four kinds of sandwiches (well, Boyle made them, but she supervised) and assures him he can keep the tupperware (it’s the good kind, she’ll tell him, conspiratorially, double lock clasps). Maybe she sits there awhile with him, thanks him for signing the picture, but…she’s a cop, a damn good one, and she knows what it looks like when a kid is having a real bad night, so maybe she just sits with him, talks about anything, everything, and Amy might not have jokes, but Pete has enough for both of them, and Amy’s witty, she might not have the best jokes, but she keeps up easy.
I just. I just want Peter to meet some not psychotic fans and be loved and cherished as much as he deserves.
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