A distant knocking sounded as Jessica groaned and rolled over.

"Hello?"

The knocking continued in the distance. Jessica instinctively grabbed her pillow and wrapped it around her head, covering her ears. Every sound was making her head throb and every motion was making her stomach churn. She wondered which of her neighbors were such assholes as to leave somebody knocking at their door for so long on a Saturday morning.

"Hello?" the voice asked again between knocks, "This IS the address for Alias Investigations, right?"

"Fuck," whispered Jessica.

It was for her. She threw the covers off, looking down to see if she had changed before going to bed. She had not; she was still wearing the same faded jeans, black socks, and black tank top she had worn the entire day before. That was good. It meant she didn't have to put on any clothes.

"Hello?!" yelled the voice.

The knocking continued. Jessica groaned and swung her feet off the side of the bed, using the momentum to sit up straight. The rush of motion caused her head to spin, so she took a moment to orient herself. She then stood up and began walking toward the door, kicking socks and underwear aside as she tread across the dirty laundry scattered across the floor.

She made her way to the front door and opened it. The sudden burst of light from the fluorescents that illuminated the hallway immediately pierced her eyes with a stabbing pain that echoed through her entire head. She squinted and opened her eyes just barely enough to see the woman standing at the door.

"I'll be with you in a minute," Jessica grunted in a raspy voice, and then slammed the door shut without waiting for a response.

Jessica walked up to the sink, grabbed the ibuprofen out of the bottle next to it and threw them back. She chased it with two glasses of water in a row and then took a deep breath.

Jessica looked around her apartment. She was standing in what could loosely be defined as the kitchen, which had enough room for about one person to stand in between a stove, a sink, and a fridge. Countless filthy dishes were piled up in the sink and empty frozen dinner trays and empty liquor bottles covered about every square inch of counter space.

Jessica kicked an old pair of granny panties that were on the floor, hiding them under her couch. She grabbed two fistfuls of dirty socks and bras and threw them out of site. She took a moment to consider and then grabbed her black leather jacket off the floor and put it on. She slipped her feet into an old pair of combat boots and finally opened the door.

"Come on in," she said as she walked over to the desk and opened her laptop.

Jessica quickly closed the porn and pirated movies that were still up on the screen and instead opened a blank document. She looked up expectedly as the woman cautiously entered the disarray of an apartment.

"This…" said the woman cautiously, clutching her purse, "Is Alias Investigations?"

"Yes."

"And you're… Jessica Jones?"

"Yes. It's fifty bucks for a consultation longer than five minutes so talk fast if you want to save money."

That had never been a policy of Jessica's, but she found that saying it prevented these consultations from taking too long.

"My name is Vivian," introduced the woman, "I would like to hire you."

Vivian was a young woman with a gentle voice and a meek disposition. She wore a long blue dress over black tights and black flats and carried a black purse, which she clutched closely to her side at all times.

"I charge $100 per hour," said Jessica impatiently, "Catching someone in the act of infidelity varies pretty significantly in terms of time. I also charge extra for the use of any photos I take and I don't do court testimonies."

"Oh, no one is cheating on me," said Vivian.

This surprised Jessica. Everyone else came to her for that. What did this woman want?

"Alright," said Jessica, "Then what is it?"

"Well," began Vivian hesitantly, "Last week there was a shootout on my street."

Jessica nodded. That wasn't terribly uncommon around here, but it still upset her to hear.

"My family and I stayed inside like we always do," she continued, "Then we heard this awful explosion. I peered out the window and saw a man with this huge... gun. I don't know how it worked, but after the police cleared them all out I went outside and saw that a car had been… shattered or something. It was all in pieces."

"And you want me to track this guy down?"

"No, he's already been arrested. It's the gun. If someone else shows up with one of those our house could be next. Ms. Jones, if I could know those… things were off the street I'd sleep much easier."

"I'm sorry to have wasted your time," said Jessica, "but I'm not a cop. This isn't the kind of-"

"I know exactly what you are, Ms. Jones," interrupted Vivian, "You're… gifted, aren't you?"

"I don't know who told you about my powers," said Jessica dismissively, "but just because I can bench an oil drum doesn't mean-"

"Please," asked Vivian again, staring sadly at Jessica.

Jessica paused and thought.

"I'll look into it," Jessica agreed reluctantly.

"Thank you," nodded Vivian, before turning to leave.

Jessica saw her take one last repulsed look around the apartment before heading out. Jessica looked at an empty liquor bottle beside her computer and sighed. This was probably going to be a mistake.

Jessica walked with her hood pulled up and her hands shoved tightly into her pockets. The weather was getting colder as winter approached, which conveniently allowed for Jessica to wear more obstructive clothing without drawing attention. She wore her usual faded jeans and black combat boots and wore both a grey hoodie and a black leather jacket.

She kept her eyes peeled. She had been walking around the nearby blocks with an eye out for anything out of the ordinary. The weapon Vivian had described sounded… unusual. Not quite magical hammer levels of unusual, but unusual enough that this was the kind of case she usually stayed away from. She was starting to regret letting Vivian talk her into it.

Jessica slowed her pace as she heard chuckling. She peered across the street and saw a small group of young men, barely in their 20s, all huddled together and rushing into an alleyway. Based on the price tag of the name brands of their clothes, they didn't seem to be from the neighborhood.

"No way!" shouted one.

"Yeah it's legit," chuckled another.

Jessica overheard more hushed exclamations from around the corner as she slowly approached the alleyway. She listened to another few seconds of it before impatiently walking into the alley after them.

"Hey!" she shouted.

All three of them jumped. They definitely weren't from around here. One of them hurriedly hid something behind his back. She rolled her eyes.

"Hand it over, kid," she said.

"Uh…" he began.

"Don't listen to this bitch," insisted another.

Without looking Jessica reached out, grabbed the second guy's face and shoved him away, knocking him onto his back. The first one panicked and pulled the gun out from behind his back and pointed it straight at Jessica.

Jessica grabbed his wrist and the gun and shoved them up and into the wall over his head and pinning them there. She followed this up by flicking his nose. Jessica was a superhuman mutate with the strength hundreds of times stronger than that of a normal woman her size, so the mere flick was more than enough to smash the cartilage in his nose. He cried out in pain as blood squirted down his face. The two others ran off without another word.

"Nice friends you have," said Jessica dryly.

He didn't respond.

"The gun," said Jessica plainly, "You got it from around here, didn't you?"

"Yeah," he said meekly.

"I want the name and location," she said.

"But he said if I told anybody-"

Jessica punched the wall next to his head, smashing the bricks and leaving a small dent as the sound of crunching brick and concrete rang in his ear.

"Schultz!" he pled, almost sobbing, "His name was Schultz! We met him at his apartment down the street!"

"Address. Room number."

"The tall building on the corner," he sobbed, "I don't remember the room number but it was on the third floor and you can hear him blasting heavy metal from the halls. Please don't tell him I told you!"

"Go," said Jessica as she pulled the gun from his hand and let him go.

She only had to say it once. He ran off at full speed the second he had a chance. Jessica looked back at the gun in her hand. She placed her other hand on the barrel and bent it beyond the point of use before tossing it in the dumpster. Then she walked off to have her chat with Schutlz.

Sure enough, Jessica could hear the music from the second the elevator doors opened. She walked up to the door it was blasting from and loudly pounded on the door, being careful to withhold her strength so she didn't damage it.

There was no immediate response. Jessica figured they were pretty used to taking their time answering the door. That or they didn't hear her. Or they didn't care. In any case, it was time for a change in tactics.

"Alright, assholes!" shouted Jessica as she forced the door open with her shoulder, breaking the door's lock in the process, "Which one of you is Schultz?"

The music was an overwhelming volume now that the door was gone, as was the incredibly potent smell of booze and weed. There were two men sitting on the couch looking confused.

"Who wants to know?" asked a third man, who approached the door with anger and confidence.

"Someone interested in his merchandize," Jessica lied.

"He's busy at the moment," he said, "Why don't you drop by later?"

"So he IS here, then?"

"I didn't- Wait."

Jessica walked in the direction of the music, which was emitting from a closed door across the room. Based on the general layout, she had guessed that it was a one bedroom apartment. There were only so many places Schultz could be and she was beyond drained on patience at this point.

Jessica kicked the door this time, sending it swinging open with such force that she heard a 'CRACK' when the doorknob slammed into the drywall. The music was now deafening as she felt the vibrations coming from the stereo beside her.

In the room was a cheap queen-sized bed with two people entangled in the blankets. As soon as she came in one of them ducked under the covers and the other, a pale man with brown hair shaved into a buzz cut, clenched his fists and looked right at her.

"Who the hell are you!?" he demanded, although Jessica could barely hear him over the music. She turned to the stereo and gave it a smack with a fraction of her strength. Sparks emitted from the device as the sound died out in a loud whine.

"Hey!" shouted the man, "You dumb bitch! You have any idea how much that cost?"

"So you're Schultz, huh?"

"Who's aski- HEY!"

He was interrupted by Jessica grabbing him by the arm and yanking him off the bed to the ground. The woman who was still in the bed screamed and covered herself with the blanket as she ran out of the room. Schultz slowly rose to his feet, dressed only in his white ankle socks and red plaid boxers. His buddies were now all watching from the other room.

"I already know you're running guns around here," began Jessica, "So let's just skip to the part where you tell me what I need to know."

"Bitch, I don't-"

"Call me bitch one more time," dared Jessica, "Go head."

In a moment of foolishness and completely unfounded confidence Schultz stood up straight, puffed his chest out, and slowly annunciated his next sentence.

"Bitch."

Jessica threw the back of her hand up and past Schulz's face, feeling the crunch of his nose as her knuckles smashed past it. The force of the strike spun him in place and caused him to stumble to the side. He instinctively reached his hand up to his bleeding nose. Jessica quickly grabbed that wrist and bent it behind his back as she slammed him face first into the wall.

"Last week there was a shootout near Gateway and 61st," she said, "An unusual weapon was involved. What do you know about it?"

"Nothing," grunted Schultz.

Jessica sighed. While maintaining a grip on his arm she released his shoulder and took a step back. Then, with her free arm hanging lazily at her side, she bent his arm painfully upward. Her casual stance while doing so highlighted their difference in strength. This was not lost on Schultz's buddies, one of whom smirked.

"AH!" Schultz cried out in pain, "Vibration tech! A few weeks back I distributed some vibration tech I got off the black market."

"Where is it coming from?"

"Hell if I know- AH! AAAAHHHH!"

Jessica had lightly pushed upward on his arm. Well, lightly by her standards.

"OSCORP!" he finally shouted.

Jessica loosened the pressure so he could keep talking.

"They have some sort of weapons division that does deals with the government," he continued, "The stuff that they don't sell to the military sometimes ends up on the black market. Happy?"

"So you've been selling adanced military grade weapons to criminals?" asked Jessica angrily.

"Yes," he groaned, "Now can you let me go? I was kind of in the middle of something."

Jessica considered for a moment.

"Beg."

"What?"

"You want me to let you go? Beg for it."

Jessica was sick of punks like this getting power trips from hurting and taking advantage of others. If selling guns to criminals made him feel big, she would make sure he felt small today.

"You're into some weird shit, Sweetheart," he grinned. His buddies chuckled from the other room.

"Alright," shrugged Jessica, "Have it your way."

She pushed up and his arm and twisted hard. Schultz immediately let out a high pitch squeal of pain as he stood up on his tip toes and flailed his free arm in desperation. Jessica continued to casually push upward while lazily tapping her foot.

"Okay!" squeaked Schultz after a few seconds, "Okay, I'm sorry! Now let me go."

"That didn't sound like begging."

"Like I would- EEEE!"

Jessica pushed up harder. She knew it would break if pushed much harder, but she absolutely did not care.

"Okay! Okay!" he whined, "Please let me go! Please!"

Jessica wasn't convinced. She pushed a little harder.

"I beg you!" he sobbed, "Please! I'll do anything!"

Jessica let go as Schultz collapsed into a heap on the floor. He lay there, in fetal position in nothing but his socks and underwear, clutching his wrist as he quietly whimpered. If Jessica had any empathy for this selfish weasel, it would have been a pitiful sight.

"My name is Jessica Jones" she said, "Remember it. I'll be back if you try any of this shit again."

Jessica stepped over Schultz and through the bedroom doorway. The three men from before were staring in complete awe, not uttering a word. The woman stood at the far end of the main room, blanket tightly wrapped around her body as she trembled with fear. Jessica walked past each of them without so much as a glance and exited, slamming the door behind her. Since she had broken the lock getting in, the door slowly swung open after she slammed it.

Schultz slowly rose to a sitting position, still clutching his throbbing wrist as he clenched his teeth in frustration and his nose continued to drip blood. No one said a word. Then one of his buddies snickered.

"SHUT UP, MACK!" barked Schultz.

Mack reluctantly silenced himself. Schultz stared at his pained wrist in rage. Jessica Jones, whoever she was, had completely humiliated him. He had never felt so powerless in his life.

"Oscorp?" asked Vivian, looking at the photos Jessica had laid out in front of her, "The pharmaceutical company?"

"They have their fingers in a lot of pies," said Jessica, "Including technology, weapons development, and apparently the black market."

There were dozens of photos on the desk. Many were of Oscorp's headquarters and the many delivery trucks which came to and from there each day. Most of the pictures were of a truck from which the Oscorp logo had been erased. Jessica had followed the truck back to Hell's Kitchen where she had forced open the back door while the driver was away and taken numerous pictures. She had also left a tip for the police, but as far as she could tell they never arrived.

"You should sue," said Jessica, "Oscorp is a big company and you have a good case here."

"Maybe," said Vivian, "I don't know if I can afford all these photos though."

"Take them."

"But you said-"

"Forget it, just take them."

"Thank-you Ms. Jones!" smiled Vivian, "You're a hero."

"I'm a private investigator," said Jessica with slight irritation, "but thanks."

Vivian turned and walked out, photos in hand. Jessica sighed and looked over at the check Vivian had left. It would be enough to cover this month's rent. Jessica looked around her empty apartment in silence. For a moment, she had stopped hating this place.

It was back though, and for some reason the conclusion of this case left her with more of a feeling of loss than anything. She eyed one of the empty liquor bottles. Then she looked back at the check. Then she snatched it off her desk and walked to the door.

"So there you have it," grinned Schultz as he placed the last handgun on the table, "What do you think?"

The client tisked and shook his head. Before him was a small folding table onto which a number of guns were laid out. Schultz stood across the table from him while his buddies sat around the apartment watching.

"These prices ain't gonna work for me," he said.

"This is top of the line shit," said Schultz, "But I'll tell you what: I know the costs can seem steep up front, so how about I give you a discount on a few of them? My treat. You can try 'em out, see if the rest are worth the price. I'm sure you'll-"

"Here's the thing," grinned the client, "I'm not gonna be ripped off by some punk who has to beg little girls not to hurt him."

Schultz clenched his teeth and fists as he felt his cheeks grow warm.

"What was that?" he asked quietly, trying not to lose his cool.

"You heard me," he chuckled as he turned and walked out of the apartment, "Little bitch."

Schultz heard himself growling as he gripped the table tighter and tighter until his knuckles turned white.

"Damn," whispered Mack, "That's the third walk out this week."

"We're fine," assured Schultz calmly through his seething anger, "Dealers get hit up by superhero types all the time. Our rep is hurting now, but we'll bounce back."

"Come on, dude," said Mack, "No one's buying the super strength story. Just admit she got the best of you."

"She's not normal!" hissed Schultz, "She's one of those freaks, I'm sure of it!"

"Whatever," sighed Mack, "The point is you've been off your game, man."

"Probably because Sandra left him," muttered the other.

"Shut up!" screamed Schultz, voice cracking as he pounded both fists onto the table.

He looked up and saw the look of pity in their eyes. It was unbearable. Practically roaring in frustration, Schultz stormed into his bedroom and threw open the closet.

"What's he up to now?" he heard Mack ask quietly.

She said Gateway and 61st, thought Schultz to himself as he pulled out a small plastic crate, If she's so worried about that street, I guess I'd better give her something to really worry about!

Schultz opened the crate and looked down on the various Oscorp vibration tech. He didn't have any of the weapons themselves anymore, but the parts could still be manufactured into a mechanism with roughly the same effect. The only problem was the feedback from the vibrations were dangerous without anything to reduce or cushion them. Schultz turned back from the box to look at his bed. He smiled. It just might work.

"Just you wait, Jessica Jones," he whispered.

Jessica browsed Alias Investigations' online reviews. Since the case had ended she hadn't been able to find anything to do with her time, so she periodically lazily went about improving her business. It seemed better than nothing. She scowled as she read.

"Same to you, buddy," she muttered at her computer screen before taking a swig out of the small bottle of vodka next to her.

Then she heard her phone buzz. She picked it up and looked at the number on the screen. She didn't recognize it. She put the phone back down and returned her attention to the computer. Then, after another few seconds of buzzing, she picked it up on a whim.

"Alias Investigations," she said, figuring it was a potential client who had seen the number on one of her postings.

"Ms. Jones!" shouted Vivian from the other end, "There's a man here! He's-"

Vivian was still shouting, but a loud crashing sound in the background was drowning her out. There was no way to parse out what she was saying.

"I'm coming," said Jessica as loudly and clearly as she could.

She hung up the phone and bolted out the door. She sped down the stairs, through the lobby, out onto the sidewalk, and then sprinted down the street. It would be fastest for her to run. Her enhanced strength meant that she could move her legs faster and that each individual bound took her much farther than any normal person.

This didn't make the trip easy. It was New York on a Sunday afternoon, so the streets were certainly not empty. Jessica found herself shouting "MOVE" as loudly as she could every block or so. She found that most people, once they saw how pissed she looked and how fast she was moving, cleared the way for her as best they could. She still found herself plowing through crowds, and knocked more than one person painfully onto their ass.

When she finally arrived at Gateway, she saw an entire cop car bounce down the street past her like a discarded paper cup. Eyes wide with shock, she turned to see the perpetrator. Standing in the middle of the street, flanked by a terrified squad of police on one side and a news crew on the other, was a man in... an odd outfit. It was various shades of mustard yellow and dark red, encompassing his whole body and even covering his face. The whole thing seemed bulky and puffy, like it had wrapped himself in a mattress or something.

"Well, well, well," said the strangely garbed man, "Jessica Jones, you made it!"

"I don't know who you are," shouted Jessica back at him, "but you're making a big mistake!"

"It's me!" he declared as he pulled up the front of his mask to reveal his face, "Herman Schultz!"

Jessica paused for a moment.

"Who?"

"SCHULTZ!" he screamed angrily, "You broke into my apartment last week!"

"Oh," realized Jessica, "The pasty guy with the inferiority complex."

"SHUT UP!"

She was much less concerned now.

"That name doesn't matter anymore anyway," Schultz grunted as he pulled the mask back down, "I'm the Shocker now."

Jessica scoffed. Several of the onlookers snickered.

Shocker grumbled in anger. He roared as he clenched his hands into fists and directed them both at the police squad. There were four of them crouching behind a police car. Jessica heard a loud humming emitting from Shocker's fists before it ramped up into a screech. The four police officers dove in opposite directions as the car sustained a massive dent in the side before being flung down the street by an unseen force.

"Shit," muttered Jessica.

It was vibration tech, just like the weapon Vivian was talking about. Only this wasn't a gun. It had something to do with his suit. She looked over as Shocker clenched his fists again, this time pointing it directly at her.

She launched herself forward and sprinted directly at him. She made it to him almost instantly. She grabbed him at the wrists and forced his arms to point upward. She heard the screech of the gauntlets going off again, but this time harmlessly into the sky. As they sounded, Jessica felt a painfully intense vibration reverberate through Shocker's arms. Had it not been for her superhuman durability, it might have even injured her.

I see, she realized, That explains why he's wearing a giant pillow, to cushion the feedback. I wonder what would happen if I did this…

Jessica adjusted her grip to make sure her hands were on the mechanisms Shocker was using the generate the vibrations. She tightened her grip just enough so that she felt the metal inside crumple. Shocker cried out in pain as she let go and jumped back.

"That's it!" he cried, "You're through, bitch!"

Shocker pointed both his fists at Jessica. She remained still as the humming sound began and stood her ground as it grew into a screech. This time, though, nothing was blown away. Jessica had crushed the mechanism from which the vibration was released, so it couldn't escape. Instead everyone watched as for nearly a second Shocker's suit poofed up to twice its size as the vibrations built up before bursting into a fantastic flurry of red, yellow, and white cotton as his scream rang out across the street. Jessica watched as Schultz stood in only his red plaid boxers and several tattered shreds of his costume. Jessica walked up to him and stared him in the eye.

"You are one pathetic loser," she said sternly.

Jessica then delivered a full-strength knee directly to his groin. Onlookers gasped as the force of the impact launched Schultz slightly up and into the air before landing him on his back, twitching in pain. The stunned silence quickly turned to laughter as Jessica walked away and the cops walked over to put a whimpering Schultz into cuffs.

Jessica glanced around the block and saw Vivian standing in the doorway of one of the houses, smiling at her. In spite of herself, Jessica smiled back. She waved off the feeling of accomplishment as she continued her walk home.

Jessica placed another washed dish in the drying rack. She had finally emptied the sink of the filthy plates and silverware, which made her kitchen significantly less horrifying. The apartment was almost starting to look like an actual home. Although the floor still needed sweeping and the counters were still sticky.

"Fuck it," shrugged Jessica, tired of cleaning.

She returned to her laptop to check on any emails or anything she might have missed. Within a few seconds of looking she heard a knock at the door.

"Come in, it's unlocked."

Vivian opened the door and walked on in, approaching Jessica and taking a seat at the desk in front of her like she had on the day she hired her. She politely waited for Jessica to finish looking at her computer. When Jessica noticed Vivian waiting she rolled her eyes, closed her laptop, and looked back at her.

"What?" she asked.

"I just wanted to thank you," said Vivian, "Everyone knows what you did last week."

"You're welcome."

"Well," said Vivian, picking up on Jessica's disinterest, "I brought you something…"

Jessica considered objecting, but her curiosity got the best of her so she watched Vivian as she pulled a newspaper and a large bottle of wine out of her purse.

"Thanks for the wine," said Jessica, "What's with the paper?"

"I didn't know if you had seen it," said Vivian, "You're in there, you know. You're a hero."

"We've been over this," said Jessica, "I'm a private investigator."

"Whatever you say, Ms. Jones," smiled Vivian, "Make sure you read both articles."

"Both articles?"

But Vivian was already on her way out the door. Jessica shrugged, opened the wine, took a swig, and began reading the paper.

"Ooh, look! It's The Shocker!"

"Where's your getup, Shocker?"

"Is it true that that chick ruined your junk?"

Schultz gritted his teeth and clenched his fists as he was escorted down the jail hall. His hands were cuffed in front of him and a guard on either side of him roughly escorted him by the shoulders. Endless mocking came from the inmates as they passed their cells. Several of them were making the "shocker" hand sign at him accompanied by lewd comments.

"Do they call you the Shocker because that's the only way you can please a woman anymore?"

"You're safe here, Shocker, no girls to beat you up! Haha!"

Every bone and muscle in Schultz's body still ached. The vibration feedback had nearly shattered his skeleton, but the device broke before it got that far. Unfortunately that wasn't the worst of it.

Jessica's kick had fully dislocated and ruptured his balls. It took surgery and several days of treatment before he was even able to stand again, during which he had to endure the constant jokes of the doctor and nurses about the nature of the injury. His groin was now thoroughly wrapped up in gauze and a jock strap that held everything in place.

"Here's your room, Shocker," chuckled one of the guards as the gate swung open and Schultz walked into the empty cell.

Schultz quietly entered the cell and presented his handcuffs for removal.

"Remember," snickered the guard, "Doc says you can't sit on any hard surfaces for another few weeks, so stick to the bed.

Schultz glared back at him as he and the other guard left.

"Why does the balless loser get his own cell?"

"Hell, I'll move in with him!"

"Yeah, I've always wanted a little cowardly bitch for a roommate."

Damn you, Jessica Jones, thought Schultz, Why did this have to happen to me?

Jessica smiled to herself as she read the description of her encounter with Shocker. The story was extremely unflattering for the would-be supervillain and seemed to sing praises of Jessica. The photo that accompanied the article was of Schultz in his tattered costume, which was enough to make Jessica snort out a laugh.

She turned the page to the other article Vivian had been talking about. It was Oscorp. Apparently Vivian had gone to the press with Jessica's information and the company was now being investigated not only for the black market arms deals, but numerous other crimes as well.

Something struck Jessica as strange, though. Even though Jessica had given Vivian damning photographic evidence, the photo used for the article was not one of hers. In fact it was better than hers. It was an extremely damning image of numerous Oscorp employees unloading weapons from a truck. She had no idea how someone had managed to get such a good photo. She looked to the photography credit for an answer.

"Who the hell is Peter Parker?"