Our hormonal teenage Spider-Hero sat in the cold, icy winds of Manhattan winter on some old fire escape. Peter never really knew why or how he always ended up at this fire escape, he just....did. So, he made a little base there as he liked to call it. Peter kept spare clothes, little snack bars and everything a teenage spider hero would need webbed up to the ceiling of the fire escape above.

The temperature was approximately 5°F, but the wind chill was -6°F. New York was fun. This was his first winter as the Spider guy, and it definitely hadn't been a pleasant time. Peter recently discovered that ice isn't exactly ideal surfaces for webbing and swinging off of. Also, his web shooters don't work the best in cold temperatures. Would have to watch out for that next time he falls from a building.

Along with his Spider suit, Peter had on a fluffy little beany, a scarf and some gloves to keep himself warm. The heater Mr. Stark installed sure did warm him some, but not exactly the ideal amount. Aka, it sent a warm shiver up his spine and was then done for. For being a billionaire, Mr. Stark couldn't really make a suit too horribly warm. Well, then again, Mr. Stark also didn't have a spandex suit. Metal was probably much warmer when you had all those gadgets and gizmos running.

It would be a matter of time before the old people in the apartment that the fire escape belonged to either kicked him out or gave him cookies. It would probably be the first option today, since they got cranky when it was too hot or too cold. Peter sat in his Spider squat on the railing of the fire escape, staring at the people down below him. His fingers clenched the freezing bars, sending a moist chill through his hands and a shiver up his arm. The spider hero sat anonymously in the pounding snow, unknown to bystanders below him.

Peter enjoyed days like this. Well, not weather wise, but action wise. Not much happened since everyone was so frigid, people just went from place to place and didn't waste their valuable body heat doing anything else. That left our hormonal teenage spider to his own business; this mainly consisted of helping people with their groceries, stepping in when a girl was getting cat called, and knocking the ice off of buildings so they wouldn't fall on top of anyone. Peter knew that the little things were some of the bigger things, after all he did look after the little guy.

Behind him, the sharp pounding of an ice covered window being forced open caused Peter to stumble on the railing, thus losing his balance. No worries, he let himself tumble forward, grabbing the railing with his hand as he fell so that he was hanging from the fire escape. In a flash move, Peter let go of the railing and flipped his body around so that he was facing the window again, finally climbing up with ease. When Peter first became Spider-Man, he was awkward and unable to do anything. Now, he was flipping around with ease.

Peter popped his head up from the railing, and became face to face with an old woman. Ah yes, Margerite was her name, wasn't it? Something with an M. He couldn't remember. Oh well, he'd just say "Miss" and avoid getting another smack from her. The old fellow was usually nicer than this lady.

"Spider guy! Whad'ya doing out here in the snow!" The woman snapped at him. She had a Christmas cardigan over her Christmas sweater, her feet covered with fuzzy socks and slippers. Old people made Peter amused for a reason unknown to him. They were just so...funny, in a way, and didn't really care about anything at all. That was what amused him, probably.

Peter pulled up his mask to sit it on the crook of his nose as he usually did when he spoke to this woman. He hoped that it probably made her less panicked that some masked vigilante rested on her porch. "Oh, uh, hello!...Miss!" Peter greeted her, promptly shooting a web up towards the fire escape above and climbing to sit back on the railing. He swung himself around to face her, swinging his legs happily. "I'm just taking shelter from the, uh, storm. I don't mind it thought. I have my hat, see!" He pointed to his little beanie that had a fluff ball on top. It was probably Aunt May's hat.

The old woman narrowed her eyes at him, her tan skin wrinkling around her lively eyes. Peter noticed that she just seemed to have a happy disposition to her, even though she was annoyed at the moment. He learned to read people eye's from Aunt May, to see if there looked like there was anything behind those black little pupils. This woman seemed to have tons to share. Her scowl broke into a slight grin, giving the spider hero a toothy smile. "That's a very nice hat, Spider boy." She commented, reaching into her pant pockets to toss him a scarf. "You looked chilly out here, all alone. Make sure to stay warm and get home safely, I heard that it's supposed to hail tonight." Peter caught the obviously grandma-knit scarf as the old woman gave him a small salute. Before she turned around, she gave him a slight glance. It looked as though she was studying him as well, deep in thought. Before Peter could make more of it, she turned around back inside.

Oh, Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year.