Finders, Keepers

The studio warehouse was completely empty and dark, with the exception of the city light that filtered into the building from outside. Every couple of minutes, a guard would come in, give a quick look around with a flashlight, then disappear as he made his round around the building.

It was just how Black Cat liked it.

The cat thief crouched on a high ledge, waiting for the guard to pass by, before she moved in. This place was just her cup of tea: full of all sorts of goodies, both technology and simpler sorts of valuables, scattered around and covered over. What's more, they all belonged to the Kingpin of Crime, which in the Cat's book, made them free handouts.

Once the guard moved away and she heard his footsteps trail into the distance, she made her move. Hurrying over, she lifted the tarp of one of the cases, finding a ruby and diamond necklace nestled inside. "The Red Scarlet," she commented to herself. "Meow. I know one kitty who's going home happy tonight."

Snatching the necklace, she moved from treasure trove to treasure trove, snapping up choice pieces for herself. She didn't intend to keep all of it. The things that interested her less, such as the developmental weapons, computer data, the more boring pieces of art, and other such knick-knacks would be auctioned off on the black market, and the money would mostly find its way back to the victims of the man she was stealing from.

The jewels and the occasional useful piece of tech, however, would find themselves in the Black Cat's inventory. "A girl can't go off on a shopping spree and not keep something for herself," she would often tell herself.

During her hunt, she then spotted some piece of broken technology sitting in an uncovered case. It didn't look like it was broken, and it had a shiny, sleek look to it. Curiosity overcame her, and she started to move towards the case.

As she was making her way, though, the click of the security guard's footsteps became audible nearby. Black Cat immediately rushed to a hiding place. It was always such a bore when she had to hide away, but it did lend to the thrill of the caper. She waited few minutes for him to walk away.

While she was in hiding, however, something else happened. She spotted a man wearing mechanical wings of some sort, alight on a ledge outside a window. He set up something outside, but he moved silently, and the Cat wouldn't have noticed had she not been facing the window. The guard certainly didn't notice.

As the guard walked away, the man activated whatever it was he had set up outside, forming some sort of plasma-like section in the wall, and using this, he slipped into the room.

Black Cat could see him more clearly now. He was wearing some sort of pilot getup, and the wings folded easily on his back. He also had a helmet on that obscured the upper half of his face, though the lower half could still be seen. By the looks of it, the helmet had night vision and other useful assists in it. It was at that moment she figured out who she was dealing with.

The man started to look around the room as soon as he was in it, and he immediately started picking up tech. So, I've got little competition, huh? the Cat thought to herself. Well, we'll see about that.

Though the man was picking up bits and pieces of tech as he went, it was clear from watching him that he was looking for something. He skimmed through everything, muttering to himself.

Smirking, the Cat decided it was time to make her move. "Well, well," she said in a hushed voice. "It looks like I'm not the only one to go after the Kingpin's nest egg."

The man started for a moment, before turning to look at her. "You must be that Black Cat person I've heard about." He gave a laugh. "We have a bit in common, then. At least, in our reasoning for being here."

She sauntered over. "Thrill of the chase?"

"Close," he shrugged. "These fat-cats like Fisk have been preying on good, red-blooded Americans for far too long. I would assume that's your motivation, too, considering I've never heard you target an honest man."

"True," Cat replied, "to a degree." She swiped a pair of sapphire earrings and tossed it into her bag. "Sometimes a girl just wants to feel pretty."

"Take what you want of those," the man replied. "They're not any use to me."

"Oh, so you're a tech-vulture then?" Cat hazarded to guess.

The man gave a smirk as he reached out and snatched up the device Black Cat had been previously examining. "The tech Vulture."

Suddenly, two web-lines shot out of nowhere, one snatching the device out of the Vulture's hand and the other taking away Black Cat's bag. "Hi!" Spider-Man called out. "My name's Spider-Man, I've been crime-fighting for just over a year, and my favorite color is blue!"

"Spider-Man!" Both Black Cat and Vulture responded immediately. Charging at him, they attempted to swipe at the objects he had previously snatched away.

Spidey responded fast, tossing up the objects to the roof and webbing them there before leaping up to take his opponents. "Alright, alright," he said, ducking under a kick from the Cat, catching the Vulture's arm, and pushing him away again, "so I haven't had that year consecutively, but I have had it! I'm not a greenhorn at this."

Taking advantage of Spider-Man's preoccupation with the Vulture, Black Cat sprang at him and was successful at latching onto his back. "I can see that," she said with a smirk, giving his arm a non-too-gentle squeeze. "Got a bit of muscle under here."

"Yeah, crime fighting will do that," he replied. Aiming over his shoulder, he shot out a web net, to the wall behind him, backed up quickly to stick her into it, and then pulled himself free. "Well, that, and a genetically altered spider bite."

"Now, where'd did Big Bird go?" He said, turning to look for the Vulture. He caught a quick glimpse of the man…just as he was slipping back through the purple plasma to escape, the tech and Black Cat's bag in tow.

"Oh, no, you're not shaking me that easy!" Spider-Man exclaimed. He sprang up and attempted to follow through the plasma, only for it to turn back into a solid wall last minute. His spider-sense warned him of this fact a second too late, and the thrust of his chase sent him smack into the wall.

OK, not one of my more graceful attempts, he muttered to himself as he pulled himself up. He could see out the window, though, and it was just enough for him to see the Vulture disappear from sigh. And the bad guy got away. Great going, Spidey. At least you caught the bad girl.

He then turned back to where he had left Black Cat webbed up, but to his dismay, all that was left was the tattered remains of the web-net. Or, not, he groaned internally. How else is this night going to get any better?

"Sp-sp-Spider-Man! It's Spider-Man!" Spider-Man spun around in shock when he heard the exclamation. There was the guard, who heard the commotion the battle had made and had come along to investigate. When he said who it was, the guard grabbed his radio. "This is Jim at Warehouse B-4! Hurry, there is a known killer here!"

"Look, I have never killed-ah fuhgeddaboutit," Spidey muttered. He shot up a web-line and was quick to maneuver his way out the open skylight. The early October air was crisp, reminding Spider-Man his need to buy thermals for under his costume. As soon as the lab opens up after the repairs, he promised himself. It'll be the first thing your paycheck goes to.

He swung back over to the lab, where there was a variety of scaffolding and work tools left by the workmen, who would be back as soon as the sun was up. After the attack, the lab had been temporarily closed to allow for repairs to be made, so only the housing area was still occupied, if a bit loud.

Peter had been fortunate; since he had nowhere to go during the period of closure, Dr. and Mrs. Octavius had allowed him to stay, pretty much rent free. That wasn't forever, of course, but he was thankful that he'd have a safe place to sleep and an access to food, though he was always careful not to eat too much. He didn't want to become a burden.

Once he got back inside, he immediately crawled into bed to catch a few hours of sleep. He was planning on meeting Gwen and MJ at the library that morning to do a bit more research on the Kravinoff lead, and he'd need to have his rest if he was going to be on the game for that. Maybe I should look more into Catwoman and Big Bird while I'm there, he thought to himself as he drifted off into fitful sleep.

Felicia Hardy was furious, to say the least. She had been planning this strike for nearly three months, and she ended up losing it all like that, all because of that stupid buzzard!

As soon as she got back to her apartment, she changed quickly from her Black Cat outfit to a more comfortable set of pajamas. Trying to get her mind off the failure of the Black Cat's hunt, she turned to the work that was lined up for hot-shot private investigator Felicia Hardy.

It was the Toomes case, which had been on her plate for years. She could barely remember when blue-collar demolition cleanup manager Adrian Toomes had come to her for help after Tony Stark had put him out of business. It had been right at the start of her career. Toomes' company, Eastside Cleanup Crew, had previously had a contract with the city to do maintenance and repairs for all metahuman related damages done to the city. Even though Eastside had always done well with their duties, the contract was eventually broken when the Stark-funded Damage Control was formed, shortly after Stark got it in his head to form the metahuman coalition, the Avengers.

Of course, Toomes had attempted to take his grievances to Stark directly, he was repeatedly brushed off and ignored. This was not a shock to Felicia, who had done more than her fair share of investigation cases to dig up dirt on Stark, but this time there appeared to be more vindictiveness than usual. She wasn't the first investigator, and she doubted she'd been the last. Toomes took it personal, and he was willing to do what it took to make Stark bleed.

Of course, these were Felicia's favorite types of cases. It let her do research into her filthy-rich opponent and seeing all the transgressions hypocrites like Stark had performed only assured her there was no problem in robbing them later as Black Cat. After all, thieves cannot complain of robbery, and men like Tony Stark were always thieves.

Still, there was one other piece in her mind from tonight. Spider-Man. It was the Cat's first interaction with the web-head, and what she saw intrigued her. Taking a break from the Toomes case, she turned to the internet to see what she could mine on Spider-Man.

Most of it was crime reports relating to the Parker murder. Some kid was apparently abducted and killed by Spider-Man four years ago, before the vigilante himself apparently dissolved into the ether. It appeared to be an open and shut case, but Felicia wasn't quite so certain. After all, why would someone who had, for a full year, been devoted to preserving life, suddenly just end one and then disappear. It didn't match up.

Her hunch was supported when she found a video of the supposed even when Peter Parker had been kidnapped. The figure who appeared looked like Spider-Man closely enough, but the match wasn't perfect. It was hard to see due to the quality of the video, but when she compared the video to a similar one of Spider-Man from several weeks before, she noted the figure who did the kidnapping was too muscular.

Felicia was convinced this would require more information, and since Spider-Man himself was bound to be a dead end, she'd start with his apparent victim, Peter Parker. Parker's file was nearly empty and incredibly boring. He was orphaned after his pilot mother's plane went down, raised by his wholesome aunt and uncle, went to high school where he lived a normal life, and acted as a cub reporter/photographer for Bugle Media on a paid internship. "Bland as white bread," Felicia muttered to herself. "Well, at least there's a lead."

Getting up, she headed off to bed, determined to pay Bugle Media a visit in the morning.

"Alright, here we are," Gwen said as she controlled the computer. She, Peter, and MJ were seated at one of the many computers in Queens Library, and they had recently started their search. "Sergei Kravinoff, current patriarch of the house of Kravinoff. Wife is Aleksandra, and it looks like they have a couple of kids together." An image was tied to the page they were reading, a picture of the listed family. Kravinoff was, himself, a tall, proud-looking man with dark hair, and his wife was no less proud, though with long, loose blond hair. Their three children stood around them with the same grim looking expression on their face as their parents.

"Yikes," MJ commented, taking a sip of her coffee, "I haven't seen a more cheer-less family portrait since the Addams Family."

"Still, he doesn't look anything like the guy to attacked me," Peter commented. "Of course, that guy was a shape-shifter, so this might not be a dead end."

"I'm afraid it is," Gwen replied, and her tone was apologetic. "Kravinoff is a bit of a hunting enthusiast, and around the time you were attacked by a guy claiming to be a Kravinoff, he was attending a hunting party in Zimbabwe. There's even a video." She clicked on it, and a clip of the Russian aristocrat bringing down an elephant played for a short while, ending before it could get too bloody."

"Well, there's one trail run cold," Peter said with a sigh. "Unless there's another Kravinoff who could be running around."

"Well, there is also his brother," someone stated from behind them. The trio turned to see Grady standing behind them. He was dressed in a Hawaiian shirt over a long-sleeved tee, and had a bag of books dangling over one arm.

"Grady, hey!" Peter said, shooting up when he realized someone he knew was there. "How long have you been there?"

"Oh, I just got here," Grady replied, giving a smile. "Don't worry, I don't make it a habit to creep on people."

"Nice to see you again," MJ said, giving a grin. "What brings you here?"

"I've gotta figure out a new project to work on," he replied. "Oscorp's not just going to let me sit on my hands once the lab is up, so I'll need to figure out something new, and fast."

"Something new?" Peter asked as he calmed down and took his seat again. "Didn't you already submit a whole list of potential projects already?"

"Well, yeah," Grady said, and he got a slightly annoyed look, "but apparently mirror based security cameras aren't practical, ghost hunting equipment is the stuff of science-fiction, and the Breakroom of Tomorrow would be, and I quote, 'an ungodly waste of valuable company resources.' So, as it appears, I'm back on square one."

"Don't worry," MJ said, giving a grin, "you'll figure something out."

"Oh, I know I will," Grady replied. "I just got to get the creative juices flowing!"

"So, you mentioned something about Kravinoff having a brother?" Gwen asked. "Where is that? He's not listed anywhere online."

"Well, half-brother, and that's because the Kravinoff family doesn't acknowledge him," Grady answered. He pulled up a chair before continuing. "No one really knows why. Most people suspect it's because he might be a mutant."

"A mutant?" Peter asked, suddenly catching onto the thread. "Like, maybe a shapeshifter?"

Grady shrugged. "Maybe. Nobody's quite certain, but it seems to be the option that makes the most amount of sense. The Kravinoffs have never had a problem talking about the other illegitimates."

"So there are other, unlisted Kravinoffs?" Gwen stated before turning back to the computer. "Interesting…"

"Oh, yeah, lots," Grady replied with a laugh. "It's common knowledge that the old man Kravinoff had at least four mistresses, and it looks like Kraven the Hunter here is looking to outdo his old man. It's like we're back in the stone age."

"So, why the sudden interest in the Kravinoff family?" the engineer asked. "I mean, you don't seem to be the celeb gossip type. Except for maybe you, MJ. No offense."

"None taken," MJ said with a shrug.

"So, you have an unpleasant run in with a Kravinoff?" Grady asked, more as a joke. When he saw Peter's face fall, and the aside glances the girls were giving each other, and the memory of what Peter had gone through, reality hit him hard. "Oh, crud, you said shapeshifter. You did, didn't you?"

"I…can't talk about it here," Peter stated, glancing around at the people around him. "You never know who might be listening."

"No problem," Grady said, getting up. "Just let me check these out, and we can switch to my place."

"Really?" MJ asked. "That'd be great, thank you!"

"No problem." Grady swung his bag over his arm. "I've got a constant scan on my apartment to make sure no one steals my designs, so there's no worry about bugs." With that, he headed over to the checkout counter while the rest gathered their possessions.

As usual, the Bugle Media building was abuzz with traffic as people moved this way and that fulfill their news work. Still, the occasional passer stopped to look as Felicia Hardy passed by. She was aware of their awe, and somewhat enjoyed the effect she had.

She strode up to the desk, where a dark-haired woman who was slightly older than her was seated. A name tag on the desk marked her as Betty Brant. "Hello," the woman said as she approached. "Can I help you?"

"Yes," Felicia stated, pulling out her ID as proof of her identity. "My name is Felicia Hardy, private investigator. I'm running a case, and I wanted to ask some questions about a former Bugle employee."

"Well, I'll see what I can do," Betty replied. "What would be the employee's name?"

"Peter Parker," Felicia replied.

It was clear this was not the answer Betty had been expecting, and for a moment, she froze up. Then, taking a breath, she reached back in the files. "P-Parker, of course," she said, and she notably sounded sad. "I'll get you his file."

"Something wrong with Parker?" Felicia asked, noting the secretary's hesitation.

"Well, no," Betty replied. "It's just that…well…oh, I don't think I'm supposed to say this, but…"

"I'm not supposed to say this" was a phrase that always caught Felicia's attention, so she leaned in. "What is it?"

"Peter died, and really young, too," Betty stumbled out. "Though I guess you know that if you're researching him. Thing was, he was kind of the mascot around here. He was ridiculously enthusiastic about what he did, and he was one of the few people capable of looking Mr. Jameson in the face and stating what he believed. Everyone here liked him, even if they had odd ways of showing it, so when he was murdered…"

"Moral plummeted, I'm guessing," Felicia stated.

Betty nodded. "Everything pretty much ground to a halt. Of course, things can't stay that way, especially in a newsroom, but things were still off without Peter around."

"I'm guessing you personally liked him," Felicia said.

"We all did," Betty insisted, "but, yes, I suppose I did. He was like a cute, enthusiastic little nephew."

"But it's not for myself that I'm concerned," Betty said. She looked both ways and lowered her voice before continuing. "I suspect Mr. Jameson had big plans for Peter, because he was hit real hard when word of Peter's death arrived. As of late, I suspect he might have gone into denial, as he's kind of…started investigating into Peter again."

"Investigating?" Felicia smelled a potential lead, and one who might work willingly with her. "And why would that be?"

"Oh, I can't say, I've said too much already," Betty said, shaking her head. She put down a pile of papers. "Here's Peter's work portfolio. Feel free to look over it."

"That's okay," Felicia replied, pushing past the secretary's desk to the primary news room. "I have another angle I'll go with."

Betty attempted to stop Felicia from heading in that directions, but the lawyer was moving too fast. Before long, she was lost in the mix of reporters, editors, cameramen, and office workers.

Inside the office, Jonah was going on his usual routine of barking out orders to anyone who had the misfortune of being in eyeshot. "You! I want that article on my desk in three minutes! Sisco! Where's that video link!? You said you'd have it up! By Friday!"

"Sir, it's Tuesday."

"Well, I want it up by yesterday! And you!" He then spun around and pointed at Felicia. "I ordered my coffee an hour ago!"

"You ordered it ten minutes ago," Robbie said as he passed through, not bothering to look up from his papers as he did.

"Like I said, thirty minutes ago!" Jonah snapped. "What took you so long?!"

"I'm not the coffee girl, Mr. Jameson," she said, not flustered in the slightest by the yelling.

"Well, then get out of my office!" Jonah snapped. "I've got too much to do, and I don't have any time for loiterers! Now get out before I have you arrested and prosecuted!"

"Even if I can help you with you're Peter Parker investigation?" she asked, giving a smirk.

Jonah froze when she made her mention. "Wait, how did you-?"

"Call it a woman's intuition," Felicia responded. She handed him her business card. "My name is Felicia Hardy, and I'm a private investigator. A client of mine came to me, claiming she doesn't believe Spider-Man killed Peter Parker, but that she wants to know what really happened. I came here hoping I might find a lead."

Jonah stared at her for a moment before looking up and realizing that most of the energy in the room had dropped. Most of the people were standing still and waiting to hear what the answer was. In an instant, he raised his voice once more. "What are you yahoos all looking at?!" he yelled. "What am I running here, a talk show with a studio audience?! Get back to work!"

Without hesitation, the hustle and flow of the room started up again. Once he was sure everyone was back at their jobs, he turned to Felicia. "Just step into my office. I need to get someone. Then I'll tell you what I know."

Felicia nodded and did as she was directed. In a few minutes, Jonah came in to join her, along with Robbie, who had a tablet in one hand. "How did you know we were investigating into the Parker case?" Jonah asked.

She gave another coy smile at this question. "I actually didn't. At least, not for sure. That said, I am pleased to hear you are."

Jonah gave a snort at the response but refused to be baited by the tone. "What do you know?"

"For one thing, it is both physically and psychologically impossible for Spider-Man to be Peter Parker's killer." She took out a file of papers that she had in her bag. "That kidnapping and killing was completely out of his profile. For everything he has been accused of, by present company included," she added, glancing up at Jameson, "we don't have any proof of any criminal activity until the kidnapping. Not even theft or drug usage, for all we know. The kidnapping came unexpectedly and without and warning."

"That part is debatable," Jonah grumbled. "But what about that physically thing?"

"Here's two pictures of Spider-Man," Felicia said, placing them on the table. One was a still of the kidnapping, taken from the video, and another was one of Peter Parker's earlier pictures of the vigilante, swinging across the frame of the picture in a pose strikingly alike the one in the still. "Look at the comparison between the legs. The kidnapper is about as tall as Spider-Man, but he's also less leggy. Both Spider-Men are long bodied, but the kidnapper's legs are thicker and more muscular. While Spider-Man, the real one, is muscular, its more in a wiry way than a buff way. Same with the arms. Whoever really did the kidnapping looked a lot like Spider-Man, but he's not the same person."

"It makes enough sense," Jonah gave, though he didn't look quite so happy about the proof.

"It does give us a theory that seems to match up with ours," Robbie added. He then turned to Felicia. "Is there anything else you know?"

"Not really," Felicia responded, shaking her head. "All I know is that there's a murdered boy, and my client and I want to know what really happened."

The two men glanced at each other for a moment before Robbie spoke again. "That's actually where your information and ours disagrees," Robbie replied. "You see, we don't think Peter was murdered anymore."

Felicia raised an eyebrow at the suggestion. "Really? Thank what do you suggest happened to Mr. Parker?"

"Honestly, we think we've found him." Robbie worked with the tablet to bring up the recently gained video. "This was video was taken about a week ago by one of our camera men at a small Oscorp lab after a metahuman attack that involved Spider-Man. Most of it isn't very interesting but look who comes in at the very end."

"It certainly looks like him," Felicia commented as she took the tablet. "Properly aged, same build, same face, a bit skinnier, but rather recognizable." She handed the tablet back. "Have you gone to anyone with this information yet?"

"We went to both the police and to the head of the lab, Otto Octavius," Jonah said with a grumble. "Both are dead ends."

"Dead ends?" she asked. "How so?"

"Captain Stacy took one look at that picture and stated it was a mistake!" Jonah scowled at the memory. "He refused to make any comment, despite the fact that both he and his daughter were in the video! 'That man is Peter David,' my foot. And to make matters worse, we can't even arrange an interview with 'Mr. David,' because Octavius keeps stonewalling us! Keeps saying something about employee privacy." He gave a groan and shook his head. "We're trying to locate May Parker now and see if she has any information about the subject, but she's a hard woman to find."

"Hmm," Felicia commented, thinking back on the image. "You said the police captain's daughter was there, too, right?"

Robbie nodded. "Yes, Gwen Stacy. She makes it even more likely that this is Peter Parker, as they were close. I don't think she'd just be hanging around a doppelganger for no reason."

"Then you and I are in agreement," the investigator said with a grin. "Have you tried contacting her?

"She won't pick up the dang phone!" Jonah declared. "They're all conspiring together!"

"Maybe they are," Felicia commented. "And if that's the case, maybe we should set up a conspiracy of our own."

"What are you suggesting?" Robbie asked.

"Simple," she responded. "I suspect they're not letting you close because they recognize you as having been a part of Parker's life. I was never a part, so they won't recognize me. I'll tell you what; I'll continue my investigation, and we stay in contact. I'll let you know where things go, and in exchange, you provide me with info when I need it." She held out her hand. "So, do we have a deal?"

Jonah thought for a moment before shaking her hand. "Just info, though," he stated. "I'm not paying a single penny."

"Oh, you don't need to," Felicia replied, and there was a mischievous flash in her green eyes. "I have my own way of getting funds."

To be continued…