❝You're Tony Stark, y'know? Girls tripped over themselves to be with you before you became Iron Man. Now, I don't know if you noticed, but I'm not exactly popular, or hot. Girls never looked my way unless it was to copy geometry homework off me. She...
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If Spider-Man didn't stop fiddling with the device in his hands, Mercy was going to smash it against the ground. As they walked across rooftops, he was more focused on fixing whatever was in his hand than looking up. She decided that if he was walking straight for a pole, she wasn't going to warn him. "Okay, for real, what the hell is that thing?" Mercy said, finally having enough of the incessant noise.
He didn't look up, or maybe he did, she still wasn't sure how his mask functioned. He kept pressing a button on the device. "I've been working on something."
"I can see that. You've been working on it to the point where I was wondering if you knew I was here."
Now, he looked up, just as something beeped on the device. "Got it!" he threw it to her, she caught it. Examining it, she came to the conclusion that it was some sort of button. Like the type you press to unlock your car. "This is how we can contact each other."
Mercy glanced up from analysing it. "How?"
"There's a chip in there that's from the same circuit board as the one in here." he held up an identical button. "I press this." he pressed his button and seconds later, hers lit up with a blinking red light. "And you know where I am."
Mercy nodded, surprised he could create the technology like this. He must've been a genius. "And if I do the same?" she clicked the button on her device, triggering a white light to flicker on his. "Cool!"
"Now we can know where we are at all times."
Mercy frowned in confusion, not liking how that sentence came out. "So, this is like a tracker? You gave me a tracker?"
If you could see the air leave his lungs visibly, Spider-Man's oxygen supply would be very low. "Wha—? No, it's not a tracker, it doesn't work unless you press the button!"
"Uh huh."
"And it's only for emergencies, like if you get seriously hurt or something, or I get hurt."
She could've kept this up, but she couldn't keep the serious look on her face. So, she laughed, nudging his shoulder as they walked through the alley. "I know, Spidey, I'm just messing with you."
Spider-Man groaned, playfully annoyed at his new found friend. It was odd. He got into this business with the intention that he was going to do this solo, he didn't want anyone he cared about getting hurt, but here he was, about a month into this sort of partnership with the woman who tried to save his uncle and he found himself enjoying it. Stress was alleviated slightly when you had someone who knew what you were going through, or was there to talk it out, or even help in a situation. While he loved being Spider-Man, sometimes it was heavy, and Mercy was able to lift some of the weight from his shoulders onto hers. Usually, when he was called Spidey, it was mostly something the news anchors would say to try and sound like they knew him. It annoyed him, but when Mercy said it, he didn't mind it as much. He liked it when she said it, she said it with affection.
