Five Increasingly Clichéd Meet-cutes, Plus One Not So Cute-meet

#3 Happens in the Middle of a Fight

The third time they met, it was a week after their second meeting, though Peter was reluctant to call it their second meeting because Deadpool didn't know he was Spider-Man.

Cap called for all-hands-on-deck to help out with the army of Hydra agents who'd decided to swarm New York. Peter took it as an opportunity to release all the stress that had built up when May told Peter that she no longer wanted to stay in his childhood home because it had too many memories of Ben. Peter, being a good nephew, told her he'd help box everything up and find a cheaper place, but inside, his mind was a roiling mess of mixed emotions. The house contained so many good memories from Peter's childhood, and, as he was a millennial, he was even more prone to sentimental nostalgia than most.

Peter didn't want to lose the garage where every Saturday since Peter was old enough to hold a screwdriver, Ben had taught him how to fix something new on the old Jeep he'd loved so much. Peter would miss all the times May had danced around the kitchen while she cooked, all the times Ben sat at the dining room table and helped Peter with his English and History homework, all the times they'd had family movie night in the den with May holding Ben's hand while she rested her head on his shoulder. If May sold the house, he felt like he'd lose all the good things that had been in his life before he'd put on the Spider-Man mask. He really wanted to stop having to lose the things he loved, just because he'd been bitten by a genetically altered spider. But ultimately it was May's decision, and Peter would go along with what she decided.

Consequently, with all his anger and sadness, he found himself taking out his emotions on the Hydra goons that had gathered, as if by the grace of all things Asgardian.

He tossed a wad of webbing at a Hydra agent's face, laughing a bit manically at his own quips.

"—and then I said, that's a tuxedo, not a penguin!" Spider-Man crowed, going so far as to slap his knee. "Can you believe it?!"

All the agents were outfitted with green body armor and plasma taser guns that looked like they'd been inspired by the phasers from Star Trek. He wasn't quite sure why they had those, instead of guns with actual bullets, but he was glad. He usually ended up freaking out anytime he heard a gun go off, not only because the shot echoed through his sensitive hearing like a bomb going off right beside him, but also because it always gave him flashbacks of the night he'd found Ben's lifeless body. And he really didn't need to be reminded of that in the middle of kicking Hydra ass.

One of the goons tried to shoot at him, but Spider-Man dove out of the way, swung himself up and around a lamppost, and drove both of his feet into the man's chest, knocking him out. He webbed the man to the ground and looked up, not seeing anyone from his little faction which had been tasked with the job of cutting the army off before they spread to his home turf in Queens.

He still wasn't sure what Hydra was after, besides causing general chaos and mayhem, (or maybe it was all a diversion to lure one of the heroes out?). It didn't help that none of the Avengers had felt like elaborating either, so Spider-Man just did his best to incapacitate as many of the agents as possible. His plan was to cordon off the main roads with walls of webbing that would be thick enough that, unless the goons had a plasma cannon or repulsor, they wouldn't be able to cut through. However, somehow Spider-Man found himself on a side street, having had to deal with four stragglers, and cut off from Hawkeye, Falcon, and Scarlet Witch.

Spider-Man sighed.

If the Avengers could pull their heads out of their asses to at least give him a commlink (he'd stopped wanting to join the team right around the time he realized that all of them did their utmost to leave him out of potential boss fights because they didn't want him to get in the way), he'd be able to call for back up, or, you know, actually join his team and tell them his plan. As it was, Spider-Man didn't have time for either because a fresh group of twenty or so soldiers had just been air dropped right in front of him. Well, at least he now knew how they were getting into the city, though that information still didn't help, seeing as he didn't have a fucking comm.