Three Weeks Later
Peter sits in his father's secret lab looking over his web shooters and then at a target he set up at the other end.
"Impact webbing, trial number, um…35," Peter sighs to himself loading a fresh web cartridge into the his web shooter.
Peter carefully aims at the target, crosses his fingers with his other hand and quickly taps the web shooter's trigger. A small web ball launches from it and zips across the room within seconds. It connects with the target and bounces off it right back at Peter colliding with his forehead and knocking him off his chair. As Peter hits to the floor, the little web ball bounces all over the small lab until Peter stands up and snatches the it out of midair. He opens his hand expecting to see the web ball now turned into a web blob, but surprisingly enough, it's still in the shape of a ball.
Peter rubs the stinging part of his forehead that the ball struck while turning over to his notebook and taking something down.
Keep track of this web formula. Might be able to make use of it.
After making that note, he starts going back over his impact web formula to try and figure out what went wrong this time. He intended to develop a new batch of webbing for sometime now and after learning of Harry's transfer, figured there was no time like the present. Granted, he had no evidence that Harry might try to escape during the transfer, but sometimes paranoia could be a healthy thing. Truth be told, however, he felt guilty for how he just assumed that Harry would be planning an escape attempt like something out of a comic book.
Peter remembers the anger and rage in Harry's voice as the police took him away and how he swore revenge, but several months have passed since then. Enough time for one to reconsider their hostile feelings.
Yeah, right. In your dreams Parker, Peter thinks.
He wishes he could visit Harry and try to apologize to him while also getting an idea as to just what his current mental state was, but Harry wouldn't allow him to see him. Even then, Felicia said that Oscorp was no longer affiliated with Harry, so if he wanted to escape, he can't count on them to act as allies decreasing his chances of getting away. And there's no other organizations in town that would benefit from aiding Harry either…as far as Peter knew. Speaking of other organizations, there hadn't been any other attempts to break into Oscorp since Shocker, meaning Peter either scared them all off, or they're just biding their time.
I was wrong. There's nothing healthy about paranoia, Peter mutters in his thoughts.
He then wonders if maybe he should pay Felicia a visit as Spider-Man and ask her if she had interacted with Harry recently and if he had been acting suspicious as one of Eddie's reports mentioned that she was one of only two people Harry permitted to visit him at Ravencroft. But he knew he couldn't do such a thing. Felicia had enough on her plate already with 'Operation Legitimize Oscorp'. She didn't need anymore burdens.
Dealing with Harry is his responsibility alone. So if he tries to escape, new webbing developed or not, Peter will be ready for him. If he doesn't, he'll be grateful…for about sixty-seconds and then he'll go back to feeling guilty for failing his friend.
"I need air," he says to no one in particular.
Not feeling anything trigger his spider sense, he opens up the entrance to his father's lab and climbs out. He slings his backpack, his costume inside, over his shoulder and heads for the city streets, hoping some late night crime fighting will ease his nerves.
Felicia breathes deeply. Her fists clench and unclench. Her eyes focusing intently on her opponent, who stands completely straight, arms hanging at her side as if daring Felicia to make the first move; so she does. Felicia runs forward and throws out a punch at her opponent, but she dodges it and Felicia's follow up punch with ease. The other woman throws out her own punch, but Felicia catches it almost on instinct with her left hand. She winces from the pain she feels in her not fully healed arm and her opponent grabs said arm, twists Felicia around, and pins her left arm behind her. Felicia tries to elbow her opponent with her other arm, but the woman stops the blow quite easily. With both her arms caught, Felicia bends her head backwards striking her opponent in the face making her groan and stumble back, freeing Felicia.
The woman gets her balance back in seconds, however, and throws a kick at Felicia's head, which she only barely dodges and goes on the attack again with a punch aimed for the woman's face. She sidesteps Felicia's punch, grabs her arm, and roughly brings her down to the floor pinning her down.
"Damn it!" Felicia shouts from the pain shooting in her arm and taps the floor.
Her opponent nods, releases Felicia, and helps her up to her feet. "You could take it a little easy on my left arm you know; just a suggestion," Felicia says rubbing her aching body part.
"You can't count on muggers or other people that wish to do you harm to play fair, Felicia."
"I know, I know," Felicia sighs. "It still hurts though, Ms. DeWolff."
"Come on, Felicia," DeWolff laughs. "Right now, in here, it's just Jean," she reminds her.
"I'll be sure to remember that next time," Felicia groans again. The two women take a seat in the deserted gym they're in and DeWolff passes a bottle of water over to Felicia. "Thanks," she says opening and taking a sip of the water.
"You're welcome," DeWolff replies, drinking some water herself. After taking a few more sips, the two women sit in the gym in silence for another minute or two as they catch their breath.
Felicia could almost picture Deborah's disapproving glance at her doing this despite her arm having not fully healed, but after Harry's threat, Felicia couldn't just sit around and wait for any other possible attacks. So she's spent the past three weeks taking self defense lessons from one of New York's Finest, Detective Jean DeWolff; a thirty something tough girl with fiery looks and a strength to match.
"So, how did I do today?" Felicia asks breaking the silence.
"Not gonna lie, your offensive technique still needs a lot of work. Sure a random mugger's technique is nothing compared to someone like me, but it's better to be at your best even for the mundane."
"I'm sorry."
"You don't have to apologize. We've only been at this for a few weeks. I do have to say that your reflexes have improved quite a bit since we started."
"They surprised me too. It feels like there was another sense guiding me almost. I'm not sure what it is, but I like it."
"You keep this up and you'll be faster than me. Eventually," DeWolff lightly laughs.
"Thanks, but this isn't about one-upmanship. I'm just trying to be prepared for what's out there. I can't thank you enough for agreeing to help me, by the way. I know you probably have more important matters to deal with."
"I'm happy to help, though really, I should be thanking you in fact," DeWolff reveals.
"Really? Why?" Felicia asks.
"Because of what you did for the hospital. That invention you gave it to help people out with their physical therapy. One of my friends who was hurt a few weeks back was the first to try it out. He thinks it's amazing; spectacular even."
"Thanks, but I told him and everyone at the hospital that it was supposed to be a quiet donation."
"Hey, news travels fast when people are grateful," was DeWolff's reply and Felicia feels a small smile grace her lips and thinks back to what's transpired across these three weeks.
She remembers how Smythe kicked it into high gear when she told him about un-confiscating his research. How he finished reverse engineering some of Harry's battle armor in just five days. She remembers not wanting to test it at Oscorp, but also being wary of testing outside of Oscorp too. She knew the board could easily find someway to sabotage any tests inside the company, but any failed tests outside of it could reflect badly on her and result in them trying to remove her from the company in some shape, way, or form.
Then again, there was also the possibility that they would do nothing and this was all in Felicia's head. She hated still feeling paranoid after all this time, but she couldn't help it especially after she visited Harry and how smug he seemed about his imprisonment; like any day, he'll break out. Maybe even before the day of his transfer.
"Felicia?" She hears DeWolff ask. Felicia shakes her head, realizing that she's been staring off into space.
"Sorry, my thoughts were just occupied by the board members at Oscorp," she apologizes.
"Judging by the look of apprehension on your face, I'm gonna guess it's a sausage-fest and they don't take you seriously. Am I right?"
"More or less, though I think it's more that they just don't like that someone as young as I am is running things over me being a woman. Then again, you never know."
"Well, whatever the reason is, don't let it get to you. Back at the station, more than a few of the sexists pricks have referred to me as Humphrey Bogart behind my back because of how I like to dress. Sure it pisses me off, but there's no better way to quell the voice of workplace assholes than to do well at your job."
"Part of me thinks that would make them want to get rid of me even more."
"Then show them you aren't afraid to kick the hornet's nest. A little show of force can go a long way, trust me."
Felicia remembered Harry's display of force when he first spoke to Donald and how the latter responded by framing him and kicking the dying man out of the company. She felt sick just thinking about it. So she stood up and walked over to the punching bag hanging in the gym.
"Let's keep going," she says. DeWolff nods, walks behind the punching bag, and holds it in place.
"Ok, give me 100. And, GO!" Felicia starts punching the bag, but it's not fast enough for DeWolff and she slaps the bag. "Faster!"
Felicia remembers the irritating satisfaction on Donald's face when he fired Harry.
"Faster!"
She remembers the sneers from the other board members when she took over.
"Faster!"
She remembers the pain she felt from Shocker's van crashing into her car. The glass cutting across her skin and thinking her arm was broken.
"You want to be ready for what's out there, then come on! FASTER!"
Felicia yells out and strikes the bag hard with her injured hand. The bag strikes DeWolff and she goes off her feet and hits the floor; her heart beating a mile a minute from that strike.
"Ok...ow. I said faster, not harder," DeWolff says rubbing the part of her face the bag hit. "I didn't know you had that in you. Remind me never to make you angry."
Felicia, however, just stands there panting heavily while clenching and unclenching her fist. Her arm stings with each breath she takes, but she keeps it steady to keep the pain to a minimum. She glances over at DeWolff pulling herself back up and then looks back at her arm again. DeWolff watches her and spots a small, but almost angry look in Felicia's eyes.
"Um, Felicia," DeWolff starts, slightly taken aback by this change in Felicia's demeanor. "We can call it a night if you want."
"No," Felicia replies. "I'm all fired up now." She takes another fighting stance before the punching bag. "Let's keep going."
"Alright, just do me a favor and warn me before you sucker punch the bag again."
"I make no promises," Felicia says and DeWolff can't tell if she's joking or not.
They go at this for another hour. DeWolff forgoes trying to goad Felicia again and lets her go at her own pace through the remainder of the session. Observing how through the hour, whatever adrenaline high Felicia was on, she was coming back down now.
"Hey Felicia," DeWolff calls out as Felicia collects her stuff and heads for the exit once they finish.
"Yeah," she says looking back.
"Take it easy, ok. Don't want you doing anything that could wind up breaking your arm."
"I don't think you'll have to worry about that, but I appreciate your concern. You have a good rest of the night, Jean. Tell the guys at the station I said hi. Well, except for the sexist ones. See you tomorrow."
"Right, tomorrow," DeWolff says to herself once Felicia leaves.
Note to self. Keep an eye on Ms. Hardy.
It was dark out as Felicia left the gym and heads for her car; gym bag slung over her shoulder and walking at a brisk pace. Her thoughts going back to the punch that knocked DeWolff down. She hadn't meant to punch the bag as hard as she did. Then again, she didn't think she could even hit that hard. Yet somehow she did and she liked it.
I hope I didn't freak out DeWolff with that little display of force, Felicia thinks.
She reaches her car and goes for her keys in her bag when she spots something in her car side mirror; or more specially someone. Whomever they are, they're getting closer to where Felicia stands and they're holding something…a knife?
Felicia feels her left arm tense up again and prepares to defend herself when a shadow passes overhead and a webline catches and hoists the would-be mugger off the ground. Felicia turns around and grins at the sight of Spider-Man perched on top of a streetlight with the other guy just underneath him.
"You freak! Let me down!" The guy shouts at Spider-Man, who just wags his finger at him.
"Relax, that webbing will melt in a couple of hours. And maybe this will teach you a lesson about trying to sneak up on pretty ladies in the middle of the night while holding a knife," Spider-Man says then hops off the lamp and lands before Felicia. "Ms. Hardy, nice to see you again."
"Spider-Man. Not to sound ungrateful or anything, but have you been following me?"
She really hoped she didn't sound like that, but after thinking she saw him watching her the day Shocker attacked, him coming to the rescue minutes later, and now this, she felt like she had to ask. Spider-Man raises his right hand as if he's speaking under oath.
"I promise you, this is a legitimate coincidence, Ms. Hardy."
"I wouldn't buy that lady," the mugger says and Spidey, without even turning around, fires a bit of webbing at the man's mouth shutting him up. Felicia laughs and gives a light applause.
"Thank you, thank you," Spidey says with a bow then looks Felicia over in her gym attire. "Wow, it is true what they say about how people in power look outside of their natural habitat."
"What do they look like?" Felicia asks leaning against her car.
"Like everyone else."
"There's a normal person behind every figure of power. Some people are just more open about the fact than others. Just look at yourself for example."
"Excuse me?" He asks.
"Your voice. You sound just like everyone else. I like it."
Peter smiles underneath his mask. "You can't tell, but…"
"Actually, I think I can tell this time," Felicia cuts off imagining the smile under Spidey's mask while rubbing her arm slightly.
"Gotta say, I'm a little surprised to see you coming out of a gym. Thought you'd want to keep any stress of that arm for a while after what Shocker did."
"It still stings, but the damage wasn't as bad as I thought. I could say the same about you or do your injuries heal differently compared to use mere mortals," Felicia jokes and Spider-Man laughs at that making her smile too when the pair hears police sirens in the distance. Spidey looks towards the sounds of the sirens and then back at Felicia.
"Go get'em, Spidey," she encourages.
Spidey gives her a nod before taking a running start and webbing himself over to the closest building and swinging off for the source of the disturbance; Felicia watching him until he disappears from sight.
"Oh my God," she hears the muffled voice of the mugger groan and she glances back up at him.
"You know, I was gonna call the police, so they'd come and cut you down, but I think I'll just let you hang there until that webbing melts," Felicia says opening her car door.
"You bitch!" His muffled voice curses. Felicia ignores him, gets in her car, and drives back home.
Felicia gets home, takes a quick shower, and lies awake on her bed too focused on her second brief meeting with Spider-Man to sleep. She wonders how many people in town get to see him more than once. She makes a mental note to brag about this to Deborah later even if it means possibly admitting that she does indeed have a crush on Spider-Man.
You can think about that later, Felicia, she decides and when she figures that sleep won't be coming anytime soon, she rolls off of bed and goes over to her laptop.
She turns it on and goes to check her email to see if Smythe sent her any messages. There's nothing. Felicia can't decide if that's a good thing or a bad thing.
Either there's nothing to report on the members of the board today, or he's holding out on me, she thinks.
She can feel her nerves bubbling to the surface again and walks back over to her bed. She goes under it and pulls out the case she stole from Special Projects. She opens the case revealing an injection gun and 6 vials with a black and white liquid in them, one of which is half depleted. She loads the vile into the gun and holds it over a vein in her left arm. She takes a deep breath, pushes the needle into the vein and injects the remainder of the substance into her body.
"Whoa!" she exhales as the contents of the vial make their way into her body; her left hand clenching even harder than before and then unclenching about thirty-seconds later.
It's better to be at your best, even for the mundane, she remembers.
Don't worry, DeWolff. I'll be better than my best.
To Be Continued…
