Peter looked for Cat for days. He scrolled the New York arrest records, jail dockets, newspaper clippings. Of course Cat was a fake name, he had assumed that much. He also figured that she wouldn't be too hard to pick out among the many mugshots of female offenders, even if he has only seen half her face. There was nothing. No trace and no leads.

She was burned into his brain and there was no way to find her. He wasn't going to make the same mistake again. No, the next time he caught her she was going straight to jail. Do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars. He wouldn't be fooled again.

But when he stumbled into his shoebox apartment in the early mornings after fighting crime and searching for her face in the darkest recesses of the city, he would collapse onto his bed and stare blankly at the paint peeling on the ceiling. And instead of thinking about how she had made a fool of him and how she was absolutely a lying criminal, he would find himself wondering if something might have happened to her in the night. If someone was really after her. And even worse, he would think about how soft her lips were and how her body had felt pressed beneath his. And he would try really hard not to think about her when his hand palmed himself inside his boxers. But it was better than the pain that came with thinking about MJ so he would let himself fantasize about the pretty thief in the night anyways. Afterwards he always felt ashamed and a bit conflicted and really really sure that Cat would get a good laugh at his expense if she could see him now.

God, he was going insane.

It was nine nights after the first meeting that he spotted her again. The dark sky was dry and clear this time and when he recognize the lithe figure illuminated under the streetlights he nearly fell from the scaffolding he had been crouched on.

Cat was taking long strides down the empty street to a steel colored Rolls Royce, her tall combat boots not making a sound as they hit the pavement. Her hair was different now, cherry red with dark streaks, long bangs cut bluntly across her forehead. It was loose this time and hung straight and silky down her exposed back. She didn't wear a mask but seemed to instinctively tilt her head in way that shadowed her eyes and smoky lids. Peter couldn't help eyeing her legs under the impossibly short black skirt and he felt the heat rise to his face before she reached the car and slid into the back seat. His attention jerked back to the task at hand.

He swung quietly in the shadows, finding a spot directly above the car, close enough that his ultra sensitive hearing could listen to the voices inside.

"Well, hello sweetheart."

Cat quirked a crooked smile as she crossed her legs, sliding onto the leather seat across from the massive man in front of her.

"Hello Mr. Paine."

"You got something for me sweetheart?" Mr. Paine leaned forward and his expensive suit strained at the seams to contain the monstrous man. He smiled a wide ugly smile and the black tattoos that covered his face wrinkled.

Cat hid her disgust easily, "Only if you've got the payment, honey."

Peter felt a sharp tinge in his stomach as he listened. Did she just flirt with everybody like that? And what exactly was she selling in there anywa-

Mr. Paine lit up with ugly, boisterous laughter. "Oh, you're a cold little bitch aren't you." His voice fell flat. "Hand it over and then you get the money."

She didn't flinch, even as he sneered and breath that smelled like garlic and tobacco filled the car. "About that. I'm going to need some reassurances. How do I know that you won't just drop my body in to the Hudson when I give you the jewel?"

Peter's ears perked up. So it was a jewel? Could it be what she had stolen that night that they had met and-

Mr. Paine had a glint in his eyes, as mean as the cold barrel of the glock that he pressed in between her eyes now. "You don't."

"If you kill me you'll never know where the jewel is. And then I bet your boss won't be too happy with you."

The gangster lips curled up over his stinking teeth, sneering as he placed a fat palm on her bare thigh, fingers grazing just under her hem line. "Oh I don't need to kill you to make you talk sweetheart. There's plenty of other ways that I would enjoy very much."

Cat readied the blade in her sleeve. She wanted to play it coy but if things went south...Her eyes were still as she planned how she would kick the weapon from his hand, plant her other boot square into his chest and then drive the sharp metal into his neck. It would have to be quick, one single motion or-

A blur of red and blue crashed through the window, glass breaking everywhere before it webbed the pistol away and then smashed out the opposite side.

"What the fuck? You set me up bitch!" Mr. Paine's sausage fingers reached for Cat, trying to wrap around her throat.

She was quicker though, already crawling over broken glass as she scrambled for the door, her ears ringing as she heard the driver fire a shot out the front window. The handle was locked and as she lifted herself through the broken window Cat felt Mr. Paine's hands grip onto her ankle, earning him a hard kick at his nose.

"YOU FUCKING WHORE!"

He yanked her back a bit and the jagged edges of the window cut into her stomach.

"Hey now, that's no way to talk to a lady," Peter popped back through the window, fist slamming into Mr. Paine's jaw. The gangster's eyes widened at the infamous Spider-man and he shakily tried to back away before being webbed to his seat. "Or her either."

Peter jerked his thumb towards the window Cat was in but when he looked over it was empty and she was already gone.

"Oh c'mon!"

Cat ran as quickly as she could down the darkened street, ignoring the burn from from the superficial cuts on her belly and palms. She cut across to the Harlem lift bridge, hoping to lose the commotion behind her in the shadows. Reaching near the middle, she hopped onto a steel girder and stared at the inky water beneath her. With a deep breath she jumped.

The wind whipped her hair and she let her body move naturally into a diving pose as she fell through the night air with her eyes closed. In an instant a hard object collided with her in midair, scooping her up by her waist as it swung her back up through the cutting wind. She opened her eyes to come face to face with two white eye slits.

"Lucy, you've got some splainin' to do!" Peter cracked in a bad Cuban accent. as he shook one finger at her.

In an instant he felt like he had cornered a wild animal. Cat squirmed and kicked in his grip, scratching him through his suit with sharp nails. They flipped haphazardly through the air as Peter tried to keep his grip on her while swinging.

"Whoah! Whoah!"

She brought a knee into his stomach that made him choke and cough. "W-what is wrong with you!? Do you want me drop you?!"

Cat landed another knee and then they were falling briefly through the air before tumbling and rolling onto the roof of an abandoned building. At the last moment Peter was able to wrap himself around her so that the collision was mainly absorbed by his body and they came to a stop with her on top. She tried to scramble away but he was ready this time with his arms locked around her.

"Stop!" he screamed at her, surprising himself with how much anger flowed through his voice. "Just freaking stop!"

It was even more of a shock when she actually stilled for a minute. Her eyes were hard and she fixed with him a cold glare before slamming her lips angrily against his masked face.

"Wh-wha-" Peter let her kiss him for just a moment until he felt his mouth start to soften against hers and his body relaxed and- "No, Stop!" He pushed her off him but held her arms locked as he stood. "None of your games this time!"

"My games?" Cat hissed, her eyes narrowed. "You just fucked up EVERYTHING because you want to play superhero!"

"Yeah because you sure looked like you had everything handled! Should I have let him continue so that he could- he couldv'e-"

"I could have handled him just like I've handled things on my own my entire life," she spat. "I could have taken him out and slipped quietly into the night but now he's going to tell the whole underworld I'm a goddamn snitch! You just signed my death sentence!"

Peter swallowed. "W-Well that's not my problem anymore. You're going to jail and the legal system can handle it."

Cat laughed darkly, "Oh so you're really going to send me to the one place where I'm a sitting duck? Tell me again how you're the good guy."

Peter yanked her closer roughly and then wondered if he had actually gripped her harder than he realized because her eyes widened with surprise for the first time. "What other choice do I have?" he growled. "You're a criminal."

She softened a bit and her eyes flicked back and forth between his very quickly, like she was studying his very soul, his motivations. Trying to size him up and calculate her next move at the same time.

"Let me go," she spoke softly, carefully. "Let me go and let me redeem myself. I'll be good. I'll stay out of crime and I'll give you information that can help you take some very, very bad guys down. I'll tell you where the jewel is."

"I don't trust you." Peter tried to keep his tone firm as she managed to slink a hand up to his chest.

"I know. I know," she breathed. "I can also make it really... really fun for you."

As much as he tried to sound foreboding his voice still cracked. "What do you mean?"

"I like you Spider. You're annoying and a bit of a goody two shoes but I think we could have a really good time. You can't deny the chemistry here. If you'd just loosen up a bit. Let yourself enjoy it."

Cat's hand trailed its way down his stomach, genuinely enjoying how taut and firm he felt. There was something about him. Some mix of boyish charm behind the mask contrasted by a tremendous amount of power that he held. Power that he held back. She wondered what damage he could do if he ever really let himself.

"Stop." But his voice was soft and the hand he laid on top of hers was gentle and hardly hindering her. He let her hand slip lower until she grazed him softly, cupping her palm on him. He made a sound in the back of his throat and his hand was now less restraining than encouraging.

"Don't you like me," she fluttered dark eyelashes and his head jerked up and down. He really was kinda cute, even if she couldn't see his face.

"Y-yeah I just-"

She grabbed his other hand and placed it on her chest just so that his fingertips swept her bare collarbone. His hand stuttered awkwardly and she wondered how inexperienced he really was but then he was flicking up the bottom of his mask, breathing on her neck, lips ghosting the skin and-

She gripped onto his forearm hard, spinning so that his he was pressed against her back. Before he knew what was happening she kicked straight up so that the steel toe of her boot slammed against his face, causing his nose to make a crunching sound. At the same time she yanked his web shooters away and flipped a few feet forward. She webbed both his feet to the roof before he could take a step.

Peter's hands held his face as he cursed and Cat could see dark red blood flowing down from under his mask. "What the fuck! Those fucking legs!"

Cat adjusted the web shooter on her arm and rolled her eyes. "Oh it can't be that bad. Don't you have superhero healing?"

"Yeah well it still hurts!" Peter shouted and Cat actually almost felt guilty. Well, that an unfamiliar emotion.

"I'm sorry, Spider. You do actually seem like a nice kid. But I'm NOT nice and the sooner you learn that you shouldn't trust someone just because they look like someone you wouldn't mind fucking, the better off you'll be."

Peter made a jumble of curses and Cat backed towards the roof wondering how well his webs actually worked on him. She went to dive away but before she did she chucked the web shooters to the other side of the roof. "Not my style really."

And then she was gone.

Peter felt like breaking something or maybe just jumping in front of a train or maybe...

And then he remembered the tiny tracking device he had stuck stealthily onto her boot(he was starting to really hate those boots) when they had fell. With a grunt he broke his webbed restraint and leaned back onto the concrete.

And he felt alive.