Yes, I am going there because somehow I can see these two getting along really well. There will be more to this story as well. Also, I apologize if the ending is a little choppy. I wasn't really sure where to continue past that point, as the whole point was to write their meeting. Plus I'll readily admit that I don't know a lot about Spider-man. Also, thank you to my beta HeroInTraining and my co-worker Tim for looking over this and helping me make Spider-man more...Spiderman-y. And putting up with my comic-book ignorance.
For Darcy, strange didn't exist. Her whole life was strange, classifiable as some kind of weird fairy tale without the magic. Tony Stark was her father, Pepper Potts was her mother, she'd been partially raised by an AI, and she was used to hearing explosions at all hours of the day (or at least things that went 'boom'). At 15, there wasn't a lot that could startle her.
Especially in New York City, where her workshop was on the 50th floor of Stark Tower. With a killer panorama of glass windows that looked out over the city so she could see anything coming from a mile away (or at least as far as the building around them would allow). It wasn't like in California where her workshop was underground. And nothing could really get in because, hey, she was 50 stories up off the street. Plus, anything that did get in would get shot up by Josie before it touched the floor.
So when a red-and-black masked man suddenly came crashing through the window that she'd blown the glass out of the day before (who knew springs were so dangerous?), she nearly jumped out of her skin. And grabbed the first potential weapon on her worktable, which she was currently pressing herself against. Why did stuff always happen when Josie was offline? Seriously, it seemed like every ill-fated experiment and incident in her life happened when Josie was down for maintenance. She could really use the tranq gun she'd installed for the AI right now.
For several seconds she stood there, staring at the figure who'd rolled across her floor and crashed into the mechanics toolbox in the middle of the room. When the man groaned, her hand tightened on the improvised weapon. Then relaxed when he raised his head and the media-familiar mask of Spider-man stared up at her.
Darcy set down the psudo-weapon (it turned out to be a mallet) and rested a hand on her chest. "Fuckin' Yeti balls, you scared the crap out of me dude."
"Hey, at least you have better ventilation now," pointed out the web-shooting hero as he slowly rolled so he was sitting up.
"Yeah, of the 'random hole' variety," snorted Darcy with a shake of her head, even as she walked over and offered the man a hand up. "You know, next time just use the door-bell. I promise, it's easier."
"But its far less fun." The man stared at her hand for a moment, apparently uncertain how to react to her casual attitude. He took her hand none the less, allowing her to pull him up even as he attempted to offer an explanation. "And hey, random holes are all the rage! Look at Tony Stark's place! Seriously though, I will pay for that. Also, sorry for scaring you. I didn't realize there was no glass on the window and-"
Darcy just waved a hand like it was no big deal. "Neither did the last three pigeons. That's why I put up the cardboard. Well, that and I didn't want to come in and find something unpleasant in my workshop like, I don't know, a hawk."
"Falcon," corrected Spider-man, even as she cocked an eyebrow at him. "Falcons live in the city."
"Eh, falcons, hawks, they're both predator birds with nasty talons," replied Darcy with a shrug. "Anyway, don't worry about crashing in...Arachnid-man, right?"
"Spider-man," replied Spider-man with pride. "Its Spider-man Miss, er...I'm afraid I didn't catch your name."
"Because I didn't give it, but its Darcy," she supplied while leaning back against her work table.
The man nodded. "Its nice to meet you, Darcy."
"And same here, though I didn't catch your name either." Darcy turned as she spoke, picking up the cardboard and examining it for damage.
Behind her, Spider-man gulped a little. "Spider-man is a perfectly valid name, you know."
"Sure it is," snorted Darcy. "But just for fun, lets pretend its not." Pausing, she took in his appearance with a cocked hip and observing eyes. A few seconds passed before she continued, her voice loosing the sarcastic tone to take up a more serious one. "I'll get it if you don't want to say though. I can relate."
Spider-man leaned back with a casual shrug against a random table covered in parts, attempting to lighten the mood a little. "Yeah, I noticed you didn't give your last name."
"Yeah, not gonna lie, I don't trust you with that information." The flippant tone is back as she props the cardboard against the window before turning towards where there's a mini fridge buried behind a small stack of books. "You drink soda like a normal kid?"
"Love the stuff," confirms Spider-man as he turns to watch her. "So, is that it? No more prying?"
Darcy just shrugs and tosses him a soda. "Eh, its not that important." Popping her own, she leans against the counter behind her and examines him casually. "You're about my age, right?"
His eyes drift over her suspiciously. "Depends, what's your age?"
"Fifteen," supplied Darcy. She's given up watching him now and wondered back to her work table.
"Close," confirms Spider-man. "I'm seventeen." His eyes dart around as he relaxes a little, lifting his mask slightly to take a drink of the soda. "What's with the workshop?"
Darcy pokes something on her table that pops, then stands to scribble something illegible on a white-board. "It's mine. My dad's an engineer and was thrilled when he found out I could build stuff too. He set this whole thing up for me."
"Nice," mutters Spider-man as he pauses to examine a half-built robot sitting on another table. "Did you build all of this stuff?"
"Pretty much," confirms Darcy as she tilts her head to look at something else on the board before walking over to press a few buttons on a tablet and activating some kind of floor-to-ceiling holographic projector. "Some of the machines and computers Dad helped me build." Slipping on some gloves, she moves a few things around with her finger-tips. "So what do you do for fun, besides swing around on webs?"