A.N: So this chapter is a hefty one, and trust me when I say it's miraculous I got this done on time, lol.
But honestly, this is the chapter I've been dying to write, and I'm really digging it. Things start shaking up from here on out. I hope you enjoy!
Game over
Put chills in your bones, I told ya
Come quick like a cold October
Don't leave me alone - Come closer, come closer!
I'm on ya like moth to a flame, you're a goner
Go numb, lidocaine, no drama
Picking up on a whole new genre, new genre
'Katherine Elizabeth Bishop.'
'Call me. Now.'
Once upon a time, Kate Bishop would have died for Clint Barton's number. If you had told Kate Bishop five years ago that Hawkeye would text her, would call her phone, would come to her house, she'd laugh in your face like it was some kind of sick, morbid joke.
Most days, she still couldn't believe it. To describe it felt like describing some kind of fairy-tale reality. Most days, she couldn't shut the hell up about it.
Kate had learned many things during Clint's time in New York. For one, she'd learned that neat coin trick. She'd learned that LARP-ing was a respectable and time-consuming hobby, and most importantly, she'd learned that a text from Clint Barton at the top of the morning was never, ever, a good sign.
Kate had accepted her fate. Her ass was grass.
And yet, she couldn't help but count last night as somewhat of a win.
Outside of their window, dawn broke over the city, orange sunrise giving way into a blue sky as Manhattan came alive in the streets down below. The hold January had on the city left a chill across Felicia's tiny apartment, even as the heat had started coming up.
Kate Bishop sat up in bed.
She, admittedly, was still getting use to this whole 'Avenger' thing.
She was still getting use to seeing herself on TV, or using trick arrows, or waking up with Avengers-level aches and pains. Especially after having fought her first super-human.
Her back cracked as she stretched, her joints stiff with soreness. And yet miraculously, she had survived. Kate had survived through many miraculous, unbelievable things.
Last night, however, was pretty damn high on the list.
But she doubted she'd survive the fit that Clint was about to have on her.
" Clint. Clint- No, I get it! Really, I totally get it! "
'No, Kate! You do not get it. You do not understand at all!-
Felicia Hardy awoke to her best friend leaned over the suitcase on their kitchen counter, her phone on speaker, face as if she'd knocked over the belltower for a second time.
Sometimes, things like this made Felicia thankful she wasn't an Avenger.
Between the political accords, the constant threat of death, and the overbearing torch-passing mentors, it seemed like a monumental pain in the ass.
But if Felicia knew anyone on this Earth cut out for it, it was Kate.
And that's why Felicia would let Kate fight this battle on her own. Besides, she had other things to attend to.
It was her 'me time'.
' When I gave you those arrows that was not what I intended for you to do with them. The fact that you're out there with my arrows and your uniform is unacceptable, Kate.'
Kate sighed, covering her face as she rested her head in her hand. "Clint, I'm sorry, okay? It wasn't supposed to go like that. The first night was a disaster. But you have to trust me, we're making so much progress now, seriously!-"
Felicia pat Kate on the back as she headed for the fridge, grabbing a glass of juice before fetching the TV remote.
The living room TV came to life, and Felicia cranked up the volume as she sunk into the well-loved couch in her living room. And like every morning, at 10:59am Good Morning America gave way to New York's #1 news coverage since the breaking of Mysterio's death: The Daily Bugle, right on cue.
J. Jonah Jameson appeared on screen, across the green backdrop, blue suit pressed and crisp.
'Ladies and Gentlemen, you know what they say about bugs: if you see one, there's probably more'. It was only inevitable. Why do I say this, you ask? Because in our latest development, it seems as if our Spider-menace has spawned a whole new infestation of wild imitators, that not even he can handle!'
'Kate, you are not listening to me. I am this close to coming down to NY and taking those arrows from you myself! Do you understand that?' Clint told her, and Kate threw her head back in a groan.
Felicia held her breath. She raised the volume once more, drowning out the sound of the phone as she watched a title card appear over the emerald green of the Daily Bugle background: Bad Luck at the Jue Lan Club.
'Happy Lunar New Year, my friends. The Year of the Snake is upon us, and as such, good patrons at the up-scale Ju Lan Club expecting good fortune and high-priced drinks were instead met with destruction and belligerency at the hands of the city's latest Spider-induced psychopaths!'
Felicia sat forward. "Holy shit." she whispered. "Kate-"
Kate scoffed. "Oh, Clint, Come on. You're overreacting!" she pleaded. "Besides, It's not like anyone is even connecting me to Hawkeye!"
"Kate!" Felicia hollered.
'Hawkeye, and this Black Cat of bad luck here, are the latest on New York City's vigilante watchlist, alongside the famed wed-head and the Devil in Hell's Kitchen,-'
"Oh god," Kate gasped, lowering the phone from her ear as she ran into the living room to get a closer look.
This time, the footage was a lot clearer. Them, hooded and masked, along the rooftops, captured by the cameras and spotlights of news helicopters. Them escaping with the case, and taking Spider-man down.
Now, from this perspective, she really did look like Hawkeye.
Kate didn't know whether to be terrified, or delighted.
' Kate, this ends here. No more, Kate. Do you hear me? No. More-' Clint said through the receiver, and yet Kate's eyes were glued to the screen.
"Yeah, uh, Clint?" she said absentmindedly, "I'm going to half to call you back."
'Kate, no-'
The call ended with a click as Kate's eyes fell to Felicia, Jonah continuing his rambles with a vigor. Felicia met her eyes. And in that moment, like always, Kate said exactly what they'd both been thinking.
"We're famous."
Felicia sprung from her seat. "Girl," she said, "We're heroes!"
And now their little Spider-friend knew it too.
The first time, luck hadn't been in their favor, that was true. But last night, they had done it. They had won. And It felt surreal. It felt good.
Felicia looked to the suitcase on their counter, biting her lip as Kate followed her gaze.
The armored suitcase had been dented and scratched in the fight, but just as intended, the contents - thankfully - had survived. They just didn't know exactly what the hell they were.
Kate fetched the case, setting it down on the living room table, as Felicia muted the TV.
"Yeah," Kate said as she unlatched the locks. "Heros who just got into 'Civil War Junior' with Tony Stark's boy genius. I've dealt with Clint, and call me crazy, but the idea of having Stark as a mentor makes me feel like my brain would melt out my ears."
Felicia snickered, looking down on the contents of the case. "No worries," she told her as she took one of the six, unmarked vials in to her hands. She turned them over, watching as the iridescent blue liquid inside shimmered with a rainbow of colors - each vial tinted a bit different.
"I'm sure we'll see him again."
Sometimes, Peter Parker wondered how long he could continue on like this.
Sometimes, he wondered how long it would take before there was nothing left of him. He wondered how many days, months, years, he could live like this, until he - whoever Peter Parker had been, could've been - was gone completely. And then there would be only Spider-man left.
After he had lost everything, that was what he feared the most.
He'd gotten use to the pain. The purpling bruises, the stiffening joints, the weird, developing pain in his middle back.
He'd gotten use to the isolation and the secrecy. The sacrifices.
He'd even gotten use to the more-than-occasional electrocutions - whether of the multiverse or arrow varieties.
Arguably, it was all apart of the job. It simply came with the territory. And at this point, Peter didn't feel like he had much of a choice. Over time, he'd just gotten use to it. Great responsibility, and all that.
And that's why he didn't mind working two, or three, or four nights in a row.
He'd saved the drive. And on that drive there had been a list. And the first name on that list had been Edward Whelan.
' Whelan - Volunteer - Status: Stable/Inactive '
It wasn't the first time Peter had heard the name.
Dr. Edward Whelan lived on the Upper West Side, far above the chaotic, touristic reaches of Times Square, amongst the dazzling skyscrapers encircling Central Park.
Dr. Whelan was a biologist, a geneticist no less. He was private practice and highly esteemed - if the crystal awards along his mantle were any proof - and on scientific discussion forums, reviews of his studies heralded Dr. Whelan 'a trailblazer of multi-spectrum intergeneticism'.
In high school, Peter had watched TED talks of the wiry haired scientist, and in freshman year, he had even written an essay on his book ' Who We Will Be: Phylogeny and the Future of Anthropogenic Evolution'. It had earned him an A+.
And just like every single name on that list, Dr. Edward Whelan was a missing person.
Dr. Whelan's apartment and the luxury it existed in was a testament to his success. Contrary to popular belief, the study of phylogeny and biogenetics wasn't exactly a quick or lucrative business. It wasn't everyday that an Intergeneticist had a 3 million dollar luxury apartment and a grand piano. But evidently, years of research and review had served Dr. Whelan well.
If his apartment was indicative of anything, seemed to have it pretty good.
Photos dotted the hallway in the foyer, smiling faces and wedding photos that made it clear that maybe, once upon a time, this place might have even been a home. Awards along the mantle pointed to a life well lived, one of prestige and hard-work. At first glance, Edward Whelan seemingly had it all - A flourishing career, a beautiful wife, and an expensive, high-rise apartment. Not something someone would skip out on, not willingly. Not so suddenly.
But now Edward Whelan was missing, and his wife was who-knows-where.
Peter didn't exactly know what he was looking for when he'd broken into 's apartment, and even as he surveyed the pristine living room in the darkness, still he had the lingering feeling that he shouldn't have been there. He didn't know what crime had been committed, or where was, or why he'd gone missing. In fact, he didn't even know why it mattered at all.
But he knew it mattered to The Girl in The Garage.
And maybe that's what this was all about.
Maybe he hadn't come to 's apartment looking for anything at all. What he was after was right in front of him.
Besides, It's not like she was exactly hiding from him. Not like she could.
He had felt her before she'd spoken. A prickle in his spine, a feeling in his stomach like the linger of a bad omen.
"Say Spider, Did you bring those handcuffs you were talking about?" The Hooded Girl asked. "I have a feeling we're gonna need them."
The Bugle called her the Black Cat in his path. He called her a problem.
A large part of him knew that like him, she was looking at exactly what she'd came for. He didn't know if that was a good thing.
There was something particularly dangerous about a criminal who wanted to see you, one that wanted to be caught red-handed. One that liked to make their presence known.
He slung webs her way, and easily, she evaded like he knew she would, turning over herself in a cartwheel. Web after web sprawled themselves across 's living room walls, fibers clinging along the floor-to-ceiling windows as the Cat glided out of range, perching herself along Whelan's couch, as if it were child's-play.
Maybe it was. Neither of them had come for a fight, but he had a feeling she was willing to see how far she could push that.
He could see her silhouette outlined against the view of the windows, the lights of the sprawling city rendering her a shadowed outline against it all.
"Don't mind me," she told him. "Not unless I'm distracting you."
Peter narrowed is eyes, and in the darkness he could see the gentle glimmer of ruby and sapphire draped across her neck. It seems as if she'd gotten to 's closet before he'd gotten to her. "A criminal in skin-tight leather and jewelry that isn't hers. Not distracting at all."
Her shoulders shook with laughter as she chuckled, delight coming to her masked lips. More and more he felt as if he was egging her on with every word.
She made no delay about closing the distance between them, gliding from the back of one couch to the other in the sprawling living room. Like always, he kept the distance, mirroring her as they circled each other. Always tip toeing around each other. At least this time, she wasn't running.
"You shouldn't be here," he reminded her.
Still, she kept him on his toes, eyes scanning his body up and down as they continued their dance of defense.
"Neither should you. Last time I checked, breaking and entering is still illegal regardless of whether the tenant is missing or not." she told him, voice teasing. He was ever aware of her path, her attempt to block him into a corner - more a play of dominance than one of aggression.
He flipped over her head, landing in a crouch on the marble kitchen island. And like a child at a show, Cat watched with delight. "I'm not the criminal here. You know, considering the explosion you caused." he told her.
" Really ?" she scoffed, and for a moment she balanced on the coffee table, tilting her head at him incredulously. "Interesting coming from the man who fought with Tony Stark on behalf of the Sokovia Accords. The exact accords your rogue vigilantism would be in violation of, right now."
"Or am I wrong?" she asked him.
She wasn't wrong.
Peter repressed a sigh. "I get it, big fan. I can appreciate a girl who does her homework. It's just not everyday that I hold negotiations with criminals."
"Haven't you heard?" she said. "I'm a vigilante. Not a criminal."
"If you walk out of here with that necklace, you will be." he told her.
Black Cat's fingers graced the chain at her nape, as if she'd forgotten it was there. For once, her attention was somewhere besides shiny things to steal.
"And you'll be right there waiting with those handcuffs, won't you?" she asked, as if it were a promise.
The reinforcement of imagery put an image in his head - all the ways she was counting on this to end. Of all the way she was hoping to coming out on top, one way or another. His eyes narrowed and Peter bit his lip in a moment of hesitation.
She laughed again, pleased with herself. "Cat got your tongue?"
So it was official, that's what she was calling herself. More fuel to her fire.
Peter had come across many criminals in his days, and more than anything, it surprised him how sympathetic they could be. Often times it scared him how much he could understand them - if he just tried. For the most part, no matter how misguided, or how misunderstood, Peter could understand them.
Most of them wanted the obvious things - like power, like money or a dire purpose. Others were a bit more abstract - driven by passion, or answers, or revenge. Some, the unfortunate few, didn't even have a choice, like Otto Octavius or Norman Osborn.
But there was nobody else like Black Cat. Nobody else that wanted the one thing seemingly only he could give her: his attention. Him being around her was egging her on, speaking to her was enabling her.
Cat stood, a hand on her hip as she came closer. Her pace was languid, but still her eyes watched him like a hawk, poised for any movement, as if daring him to strike. Still, he kept the distance.
"Where's your friend?" Peter asked.
Cat shrugged. "Prior engagement. Figured we'd try the good cop-bad cop routine." she snickered. "Lucky you."
"And I guess this is the part where I ask which one you are," he figured.
"Or the part where you come over here and find out."
At the very least, he couldn't fault her for her cleverness. Every word he said, any question he could ask her, she would twist in her dance, making it circle right back to where she wanted - her and him.
"Kind of seeing a theme with your fantasies here," he said.
For him, this was work. But for her, it was play - a game she was writing the rules to on the fly. And it was becoming more and more apparent that if he wanted any intel on the suitcase, he'd have to roll the dice and take his turn.
Finally, Black Cat closed the distance, and this time, he didn't retreat. He let her get what she wanted, watching as she balanced herself across from him on the kitchen island. He could see her better in the low lighting, even with the hood and mask, eyes making out the elaborate design of the necklace, the shine of her claws, the same warmth in her eyes that could make his stomach tighten.
Up close, her movements were slow and steady as she teased her way closer to him. Black Cat ran her hands along his arm, the gentle graze of her claws leaving its linger behind her touch.
"So Spider, I trust you brought me my flash drive." she said, voice low in the close proximity. Because when they got down to it, no matter how much fun Black Cat was having, she still had her commitments. At the end of the day, this was about her suitcase, and his drive.
"Now the question is: Are you going to make me frisk you for it?"
Peter's breath hitched.
She was doing this on purpose, and never in his life had Peter heard something that was so equally a threat and an invitation.
"Never one to disappoint a fan." he told her and, from the crevices of his suit, Peter produced the drive, holding it between his fingers. Black Cat eyes glimmered with interest, and without hesitation, she went for it, quick fingers snatching at the drive.
And on instinct alone, Peter dodged.
"Hey!" he warned.
She chuckled, going for it again, and again, her movements predictable and playful. He could feel them coming, one after the other, each attempt failing as she watched the Spider in front of her evade her easily.
"Hey- Quit it!- Stop!" he told her and finally, Peter leapt from the counter to the the couch, sitting on the back of it.
"I'm not just gonna give it to you! Especially not after you trashed that club last night. Listen, Whatever was in that case, you need to give it to me." he said.
Cat scoffed, sliding herself off the counter as she rolled her eyes. She'd been enjoying their cat and mouse game too much to talk about the semantics of it all.
"Don't you mean 'we'?" she said. "I mean, I know you watch the news . ' The terror trio ', they call us.'The Spider, the Cat, and The Bird?' Besides, I clearly remember you ambushing Kingpin's men with a joke about onion rings and the Better Business Bureau, which, if we're on the topic, was pretty top tier comedy." she said, shrugging. "If you ask me."
"Hey, we aren't-" Peter starting, beginning to object to the notion that the three of them were on the same side here. "-Wait, you liked that joke?" he asked, as Cat strolled around the apartment, eyes wandering over the expensive luxuries and etched awards. "I was workshopping it for a bit before-"
Peter stopped himself. "No. You distracting me, you're trying to distract me. Flirting will get you nowhere, Sexy-Leather-Cat-Lady."
She laughed, tip-toeing and stretching to pluck a crystal award from one of the shelves above the TV. Peter looked away as not to stare at her subtle display.
"So formal, Spider. We're on first name basis here, aren't we? Please, call me Cat." she said, fingers tracing the engraved base as she read to herself. She couldn't help but wonder why he'd lead her here of all places.
''The Saintford Foundation Honors of Excellence and Innovation is awarded to Whelan for his work on behalf of '
Read the plaque.
Peter sighed. "Cat," he said, and he moved closer, gently taking her wrist to catch her attention. He didn't know what he'd expected - she had made it known she wasn't one to compromise - and yet the action clearly had an affect. He could see her inhale sharply, and she hesitated for what might have been the first time.
Black Cat looked at him, and it occurred to him then that maybe the effect her had on her might have been just as strong. She set the award down.
"I'm listening," she said.
"I've seen what's on this drive. I've decrypted it all and I've seen what you're after. And whatever business you or your friend has with Kingpin, you're going about it wrong." he told her. "You have to listen to me when I say you're going to get yourself hurt."
Black Cat put a hand on his chest, tilting her head at him.
"Aww, My hero. " she said mockingly, and although he couldn't see it, behind the mask she smirked. "Who knew you were so chivalrous." But whether he knew it or not, whether he cared or not, this wasn't her first time around the track.
Peter knew what it meant to be green, to be fresh, to not know what you were doing. He had lived it himself, many times. This clearly wasn't Cat's first rodeo, and it showed. There was no question about it: the thrill was the reward, he was simply icing on the cake.
Her and Hawkeye didn't need powers, or his permission.
"Cat, I'm serious." he said, and goosebumps rised across his skin as gently, she traced the outline of the emblem on his chest with her claws. "This is bigger than either of us might think. Lives could be at stake. Whatever was in that case - I'm asking you to give it to me and end this."
Black Cat chuckled, dropping her gaze for a moment as she fought the urge to roll her eyes. "End this? Aww, but who would you have to play with then?" she teased. Her nail pressed harder.
She went on.
"I don't think you really understand, Spider. I like you. I do. But I'm not asking. And no amount of trust, and no amount of talking will change that. So you either get out of my way, or you play our game." she said. "The choice is up to you."
She eased up on her claws, instead running her hands along his arms, and Peter's grip tightened on the flash drive. "Play my game," she said, ducking under his arm, and still her hands lingered, exploring the contours of his suit as she moved behind him. "Give me my drive, and maybe then I'll think about telling you what was in that case. You scratch my back. I scratch yours."
Peter closed his eyes. " Cat, " he warned.
He should have pulled away. He should have stopped her right there, taken her in right then, solved his problem right now. He should have done a lot of things.
"'Lives could be at stake', right Spider?"
"You're trying to manipulate me."
Black Cat chuckled. "Trying?" she asked. "Or succeeding?"
The worst part about this, was that he wasn't sure. He wasn't sure quite how deep she had her claws in him yet. She could play the role of ally, make eyes at him like a friend, but that didn't matter. Not if it was all to get what she wanted.
For some reason, he didn't pull away, instead letting her hands roam for a moment or two more.
It could have been dozens of things, dozens of reasons why he didn't fulfill his promise and haul her in right now. For one, it wasn't as if Peter Parker was on an emotional upswing, by any means.
It could have been the touch starvation - the fact that it had been weeks since someone had gotten their hands on him, touched him as if they knew him. It could have been that the ball was in her court - that she knew something he didn't.
Or it could have been that he was the hero here. He was the one with the obligation, and she was the one with the information. Whatever it was she was hiding from him, the truth of the matter was he needed what she had just as much as she needed him.
No matter what the reason was, he knew it was a mistake.
"I'm not sure yet." he told her, honestly.
She chuckled again, and he fought to urge to shudder at the sound of her voice at his ear. "Well, make up your mind." she said. "Quick."
Because she had definitely made up hers.
She was fast. Not faster than him, but faster than most. And she knew this. But all she needed was that moment of hesitation, that instance of doubt, that second of intrigue.
And he gave it to her each and every time.
Black Cat went for the drive in his hand, wrapping her arm around his neck, the claws at his throat bared and brazen.
And here he was, about to give her the benefit of the doubt.
"Oh, Come on. " He hissed.
Peter grabbed her arm, swinging Black Cat off of him with a force not even she'd expected. She let out a sound of surprise, her nails snagging the fabric of his suit as she pulled him along with her into a summersault. She did her best to keep her hold on him, using her weight and his force to take him along with her.
The pair hung onto each other, the world spinning around them as they fought with each other for dominance against gravity. Peter landed on his feet, barely in time to dodge a swing as Black Cat came after him.
Her tactic was always the same.
If Black Cat knew anything about him, it was that he was faster than her, stronger than her, and every single time she kept this in mind. Because if she didn't have the strength or the speed, she had the audacity - the insight to play the offense and keep him on his toes. If she couldn't distract him, at the very least, she could try to overwhelm him.
Her strikes came one after the other, a barrage of kicks and swings as Peter dodged, flipping over the furniture to keep his clearance.
He shot a web her way, and with a flip of her own Black Cat dodged, ducking under its trajectory as she lunged herself towards him. Claws bared, she took a swipe at him, claws slicing three clean cuts against the chest of his suit.
Peter let out a sound of surprise, the drive going flying as he attempted to dodge. On a split-second's reflex, he went for it, webs shooting as the drive flew through the air. It landed on it's target, the web's wires wrapping around the USB, and on a reflex of her own, as if she knew he'd would, Black Cat turned and severed his web with the tip of her claw.
The drive clattered across the marble floor.
She chuckled, but there was no time to savor the surprise in his eyes as she dove for the USB, flipping over the piano as she got her hands around the flash drive.
But before she could make a break for it, before she could really process it at all, she was blown back, the air knocked from her lungs.
She had seen him do it maybe hundreds of times before. When she saw it on TV, it honestly didn't look that bad. But maybe she had underestimated the force she'd feel when his web blasted her back into the wall.
It wasn't nearly as fun as it looked.
" Um, Ow. " she hissed.
The web stuck her to Edward Whelan's living room wall, the strands entangling her against it. It was useless to struggle, but still she tried, more impressed than offended even as Peter approached her.
He was frustrated of getting ran around in circles, in turning this into a case about her rather than one about Kingpin. Before it had been fine.
Before, he didn't know there were lives and missing people on the line.
"These webs aren't Stark Technology, are they? You made these? Brawns and brains too, I guess." Cat told him, trying to force her way out of the webs to no avail.
"Hey, stop trying to distract me!" Peter snapped, finally. "I don't know what I have to do to get you to listen to me, but you have to work with me here, please." he said, prying the drive from her claws. "Look, I know you think it's all fun and games right now. But take it from me, that all ends when someone you cares about gets hurt. And you may not care about yourself, but you'll care when something happens to that friend of yours."
Because if he couldn't appeal to her rationale, maybe he could appeal to her compassion. Maybe he wouldn't actually have to haul her in. Because whether Peter was willing to admit it or not, that wasn't what he wanted to do. But it was push coming to shove.
They were criminals, vigilantes - but once upon a time, he had been too. Back before he came home to find a living legend sitting on his living room couch. Back then, when he was like her, running around in a hood and a mask.
So maybe their methods were a little unorthodox, their goals a bit ambitious, but so far they hadn't hurt anyone who wasn't already in the red. He could work with that. And maybe the more he tried, the more he could understand what they were after.
"Aww," she mocked, as he drew closer, and now they were face to face once more. "How sweet."
"Listen to me, You're good at what you do. You both are. I know you're not some amateur. But this is something that's better done alone. I can help the both of you by ending this if you help me, but first you need to tell me what was in that case."
Black Cat hesitated, and with her expression obscured behind the mask, for a moment he had thought he was getting somewhere.
But still she snorted, shaking her head. She couldn't help but feel patronized.
"Oh please," she said, struggling. "As much as I love to play with you, all of this is for her. This wouldn't be anything if Kingpin didn't mess with people's families. Besides, I don't even have it on me. I could tell you what was in that case, but it wouldn't matter."
Because not even they knew what it was.
Peter narrowed his eyes at her. He wanted to call her bluff, to catch her in a lie and make this all easier. He was going to. But he couldn't.
Black Cat hadn't moved, but it had felt as if the air in the room had changed.
Peter bristled, shoulders drawn close as he looked around the room, senses drawing themselves to an eleven as Black Cat him watched with morbid interest. Peter could feel his awareness expand, the familiar sense of dread.
"Cat." he warned, turning away from her.
Black Cat shook her head, and she didn't know whether to be excited, or terrified. "Whatever you're feeling right now," she said. "It isn't me."
"No, bro. You are doing it wrong."
"No, I am not. You always tell me 'no, you can not do it', I can!"
Ivan groaned with frustration as he dropped his binoculars
"What is wrong with you two?!" he demanded of them, turning to face the other Track Suits. The convoy of Russians sat around on the deserted rooftop and beside him, Enrique and Tomas fiddled with a rocket launcher unsuccessfully.
Tomas frowned. "Bro, did you not hear him? He always-"
"You idiot!" Ivan said, snatching the ammunition from the lower-ranking man. "You must want us to fail again. Kate Bishop blow up our warehouse, and what, we do nothing?" he asked, accent think as he loaded the launcher himself.
For once, without Maya, without Kazi, they'd done the hard work. They'd tracked them, they'd cornered them. Now they just had to finish the job.
"The girl and the bug is in there," Ivan said to his men. "They blow up our warehouse, we blow them up in house. Very simple."
"Two bugs," he said, holsting the rocket launcher onto his shoulder.
"One boot." He pulled the trigger.
He had made a mistake. Coming here had been a mistake.
The second he turned away, Black Cat sliced free from her bonds, leaping to tackle him, just as Peter recognized the signature, soft hiss of an explosive projectile.
"No, wait!"
She was going to get them killed.
The world slowed around him.
The rocket shattered the glass door of the balcony, leaving a trail of smoke in its wake, as shards rained down on them.
As if in slow-motion, the missile ignited in the center of the room, for second illuminating it all in a dense ball of heat and light, before it's full eruption of fire.
Peter wrapped his arms around Black Cat, shielding her on instinct from the destruction as he extended his arm and web out towards the shattered window.
The sound was a deafening burst of chaos, and in all of the disarray, despite her own confusion, Peter could feel Black Cat wrap her arms around him, as if expecting him to play the hero every single time.
Her claws dug deeper into his suit, not caring about the tears but careful of the skin underneath, as Peter launched them toward the balcony railing.
The force of the blast came first, then the lashing of flames and smoke that blew everything in its range to dust. Heart racing, Peter barely swung them from its radius, as on the rooftop across from them, the Track Suits scrambled to reload.
For Black Cat, the experience of the swinging was just as terrifying, just as exhilarating as the first. She could feel their chests against one another's, her legs tangled with his to fight the feeling of weightlessness as they glided through the air. For a moment her eyes were on him, captured in amazement before they landed on the Russian convoy.
"Crashing our little rendezvous." she snickered, as Peter swung them to the roof. "How rude."
Admittedly, Peter was not used to doing the whole 'superhero landing' thing with two people. And although the landing was far from graceful, they came in with a force, as Cat broke free of Peter's hold and sent a flying knee to the nose of the gunman. Ivan went down, face splurting with a nosebleed, nose bridge askew as the rocket launcher clattered from his shoulder.
Peter was getting a bit tired of the 'Spider-man-related' explosions.
"Hey fellas," Peter said as the six of his companions sprung to action. "Ever heard the saying 'eye for an eye makes the whole world blind?'"
Ivan narrowed his eyes at him, and now that he was up-close, Peter recognized him as the one from the garage, miraculously still in one piece.
"Aw," Ivan spat, leaving a mark of blood on the concrete. "Did we interrupt your little date?"
"Yes, actually." Black Cat said.
Ivan snickered. "Then you can thank your little girlfriend for this." The men pulled their firearms, the boy in red and blue their primary concern, as the two nearest Black Cat went for her.
Below, Peter could hear the sound of sirens, of firetrucks and squad cards in the streets as they came to survey the damage, the batting blades of news helicopters on route to them in the distance.
He didn't know how this had gotten so out of control, but then again, he hadn't known he'd been walking into a trap. Neither of them had.
The men took aim, as Black cat, much to her own delight, threw herself into the fight. Peter dodged the rain of bullets, launching webs at two that sent them flying back. "For the record," he said, disarming another one of the men, "She's not my girlfriend."
Black Cat jumped, wrapping her legs around the neck of one of the men, using the momentum to slam the Track Suit to the ground as the gun in his hand clattered from reach.
"Really?" Cat snickered, jumping to her feet. "Wanna get the record straight, huh? Why, you taken, Spider?"
"No," Peter said, as the remaining two attempted to overwhelm him. "Just- trying to stay on the market, is all."
Behind her mask, Black Cat grinned. "Hm." she said, and she kicked the butt of the discarded gun upwards, catching it as she lined up her sights. For a moment, Peter's heart seized in panic.
"No!" Peter warned her, knocking the men back as he slung a web toward Black Cat, knocking the firearm from her hands. "No, No guns! We're not trying to kill anyone here, Cat!"
The gun went flying, and eyes wide, Black Cat looked at him incredulously. "Since when are you Batman?" she scoffed.
A blow landed in the center of Cat's chest, knocking the air from her lungs as she went flying. Ivan, face smeared in blood from Black Cat's kick, stood over her as Cat hit the concrete of the roof.
Ivan bent down, a crushing hand coming down across her throat as he pulled her to her feet. Grasping the gun, he wrapped an arm around her throat, pressing the barrel to her temple as she struggled.
Peter froze.
Cat sunk her claws into the man's arm at her throat, the metal breaking skin like razors but drawing no reaction.
"You lived, lucky you. How about I give you a chance to hand over the drive before I blow your little girlfriend's head off." he said.
Peter fought the urge to clench his fists. His shoulders tightened with stress. What had started as a simple investigative mission had spiraled in something out of control, a life or death situation and a destroyed residential penthouse.
"Again, we're more of a friends situation." he said.
"Are benefits on the table?" Cat asked.
Ivan groaned. "Enough!" he barked at her, tightening his grip across her throat, as news copters lingered overhead, kicking up a current of air in their wake. Black Cat let out a sound of struggle as her windpipe fought to inhale. "That hood and mask makes you too bold, no? Now, why don't you show your little toy exactly who you are, Kate Bishop. " he said.
The name alone made Peter's body seize.
Black Cat let out a sound of resistance as Ivan gripped her hood, and with one rough movement he pulled the fabric down.
And with it, platinum blonde dreadlocks fell to her shoulders.
The sight of the locs, the familiar startling white hair and gold adornments, sent his mind in a frenzy. For a moment he was taken back to the pastry shop, to sitting across from Felicia, her hand on his jacket as his thoughts raced. He was taken back to her couch, standing across from Kate - Kate Bishop - in her kitchen. Talking about him. It was insane he hadn't seen it before.
Even with the mask, it had to be her.
For a moment there was a beat of silence.
" You are not Kate Bishop. " Ivan said.
Black Cat looked up at him, eyes bewildered. "I never said I was!" she insisted.
Peter didn't think. He should've, with the cameras on him, with a gun to her head, but panic seized his mind, and in that moment, all he could do was act.
Peter found he couldn't think straight when things got personal.
It didn't matter that she stolen from him, that she had blown up a particularly shady garage downtown. She was his neighbor.
She was his friend.
Just as Black Cat gripped Ivan's arm, sinking her claws deeper into the skin, Peter webbed his gun, launching himself at the broader man feet-first. Cat caught his movement, dropping her weight to throw Ivan off his balance, and as soon as she got enough clearance, Peter pounced on the man, his heels slamming into his solar plexus. Ivan was blown back with the force, the gun flying as Peter strung the man in a swathe of fibers.
"Man," Peter groaned. "You really don't know how complicated you just made this." he told the Russian.
Ivan was restrained, but still, face crusted in drying blood, he spat "Try all you want, but you won't be able to save your little girlfriend. Whoever she is."
Black Cat flipped to freedom, locs a trail of white and gold behind her as the helicopters drew closer above. In the flashing sirens and spotlights, she could make out the signature white and green logo of the Daily Bugle, the bright lights of the broadcast camera, the red blinking light of a live feed. To who knows how many people.
The two men left standing went for her, clattering for their guns as Peter strung up Ivan. She met them half-way, claws bared as she fought them off, but each and every strike she let them get the leverage. She stepped back, luring them both to the edge, and finally, when one dared to draw near, she swept him from his feet, sending him a spin and off the edge of the building.
The man screamed out in terror, and like clockwork, Peter picked up the slack, webbing the man and leaving him dangling over the edge, rendering him a immovable cocoon as Cat repeated the retreatment with the last one standing.
"We need to talk." Peter told her pointedly, as he perched on the ledge of the building.
But for once, her attention wasn't on him. Her eyes looked skyward, on her big close-up, her moment.
Her 'me time'.
"Oh so now you want to talk to me?" she snickered, walking backwards towards the edge once more.
"Cat, please-" he said, running his hands over his masked face.
Suddenly, the pair was illuminated under spotlight of the news cameras, Cat's hair flying wild in the breeze of the copters blades.
" Another New York home destroyed! Do you have anything to say for yourself, you menace!? "
The threat was blared from the copter, a loud-speaker to act as flying paparazzi, and Black Cat recognized the voice she knew so well as J. Jonah Jameson.
A smirk came to her masked lips, and even in her eyes, Peter could see that it was her. "I don't want to fight about this," he said tiredly.
Black Cat tilted her head at him, eyes softening. He knew her, he knew she wasn't entirely heartless, entirely irrational. He knew she had a soft spot for him, and the more he wondered by, the more she pulled him deeper in confusion.
Black Cat sighed.
"Me neither." she decided, stopping finally at the brink of the building's edge. Down below in the street, the civilians watched, camera phones pointed and at the ready, as the Daily Bugle helicopter loomed closer. Black Cat cast her eyes upward for her close-up, heartbeat racing in her ears over the sound of the aircraft.
"Let's get out of here, Spider." And just like that night at the Jue Lan Club, she fell backwards from the edge once more.
And just like last time, he was there to catch her.
Around them, the city was a blur of colors and bright lights as they swung through the streets. Cars shrunk to dots along the wide boulevards, sounds a blending melody of white noise as Peter fought to outrun and outswing the gawking stares, the pointing upwards, the prying, invasive news cameras.
He didn't know how long they'd been going. He couldn't really tell how far they'd gone or how fast they'd been swinging. But he knew he didn't want to stop. He knew he didn't want to face her, to face that look in her eyes that could make his stomach flutter. To call this what it was.
Way out of hand.
Not when she was in his arms, her arms around his waist as the breeze wrapped around them. Not when, for just then, she could be Black Cat and he could be Spider-man and that could be all this was.
But he knew there was no going back. Not really.
There had been a time, a very brief period in time, where he had convinced himself that he could do this - that Peter could be Peter and Spider-man could be Spider-man. Back before MJ had called him out in Prague. Back before Ned, or May, had caught him in the act. Back before Tony Stark had appeared on his living room couch.
Back when Peter Parker was still a person.
But he wasn't that naive anymore.
They went as far as he could go, and when they found themselves on the southernmost tip of Manhattan, the Financial District giving way into the gulf of the Hudson, then he stopped, touching them down on one of the rooftops.
Peter let her go, turning away from her as he scrambled to collect his thoughts, to even find the place to start.
"Cat, listen to me,-" he pleaded, hiding his face in his hands.
"You're amazing ." she told him.
"What?"
Black Cat was breathless, and she could feel her hands trembling, with anxiety, with excitement, adrenaline.
She thought about Kate, about her and Clint, and about the day, weeks ago, she had walked in to the two of them in Kate's apartment. She thought about the happiness on Kate's face, the way she'd spoken about it like all of her dreams were coming true.
Black Cat thought about how she had been waiting for this moment for years.
Kate had her moment. And so badly did she want hers too. And now she had it.
She couldn't let it slip away.
She looked at him with that same look in her eyes - that same warmth, same teasing, same adoration. And now he could recognize it anywhere.
"I said you're amazing." Cat told him, closing the distance between them as she took his arms into her hands. This time, however, her touch was gentle, as if asking for permission. "God, you really don't know what you do to me, do you?" she whispered.
She looked into his eyes, brown eyes scanning his mask as if searching for something. Sometimes, she really did wonder who he was under there. Sometimes, she wondered if she even wanted to know.
Peter's stomach tightened, shuddering at her touch, and under his suit, his hairs stood on end. He fought with himself, fought with his own weakness, as he pulled away from her.
"No!" he demanded. "Cat, this ends now. I can't keep doing this with you. I don't care that you like me, and I don't care that you're good at it. I can't be responsible for your life." he said. "I can't have your blood on my hands if you get hurt. Please, I'm begging you not to put me in that position."
Because he'd been there before. He'd put so many lives on the line before. And he couldn't go back - he didn't want to.
Black Cat's brow furrowed in confusion, and she sucked in a deep breath as she shook her head in confusion. "I don't - What are you talking about? After every time we've met you still think I can't hold my own?" she scoffed. "Spider, We're on the same side here."
Peter shook his head. Because she couldn't understand, there was no way she could.
And now, looking out over the city's wide river, of all things, he thought of his friends. He thought of MJ. And that night in Prague.
There was a reason he couldn't tell her. A reason that every time he took the trip down to the bakery, speech in his pocket, he'd chicken out every single time. Because he couldn't lose anyone else, not because of Spider-man.
Not even a neighbor. Or a friend. Or a crush.
He couldn't break himself like that all over again.
"Black Cat," he said, voice low as he closed his eyes, trying to focus.
Peter decided then that he'd rather put her in jail than put her in harm's way. That he'd rather lie than let her know the truth, then let her know it was him, if it meant stopping her, someway or somehow. But he knew her. He knew Felicia, and he knew she wouldn't stop.
"You're talented. You know that. But you're reckless. So I'm telling you this now. If Kingpin doesn't stop you, I will. And I don't want to do that. So I'm asking you to trust me, as a hero, on this. And tell me what was in that case." he said, holding on to her.
She held her breath, her eyes full confusion, doubt, for a brief moment. She wanted to trust him, and he knew a large part of her already did. She just didn't want to say so.
"And my flash drive?" she asked, and she drew herself closer, hands running over the smooth seams of his suit. They ran along his waist, lingering up his back as he spoke.
"You know I can't give you that." he told her, as slowly he opened his eyes.
Her eyes were lidded and lightly, she smirked, and finally, Felicia pulled down her mask.
"Well," she said, smiling for the first time that he could see. "I could think of one way you could repay me for telling you about the unmarked vials."
Vials - the suitcase had been full of vials.
Felicia could feel his chest expand as he sucked in a breath.
"And what's that?" he asked.
Gently, with the tip of her claw, Felicia teased up the edge of his mask, smile growing into a smirk. On instinct, his hand came up to stop hers.
His stomach tighten, and yet, he didn't draw away.
"Don't be such a scaredy cat, Spider." she said. "Don't you trust me? As a hero ?"
Felicia pulled his mask upwards, peeling it back from his chin.
He could have stopped her. He could have pushed her away, hauled her in to the nearest precinct.
But he didn't.
Because it wasn't the first time he'd thought of kissing her.
Felicia pressed her lips to his, arms snaking their way around his body as she leaned into the kiss.
Maybe it was the fact he was going through the worst 'break-up' of his life. Or maybe it was because he'd taken a liking to the way she called him 'Spider'. But for some reason, he kissed her back.
Her lips were soft, her chapstick tasted of vanilla and brown sugar, and without knowing what was under the mask, she touched him as if she knew him. Her hands roamed free, claws trailing along the seams of his suit, and when she pulled away, her eyes were wide with wonder.
For a moment, she was speechless, and he was too.
Finally, she let him go. "Thanks, Spider." she breathed, backing away from him. "For giving me exactly what I want."
Peter tilted his head as he stepped towards her, eyes narrowing in confusion. "What are you-"
Felicia held up the flash drive between her fingers. Turns out, she did have to frisk him for it. "Next time, Spider," she said. "I'm open to compromise. And maybe I'll bring those vials."
"Cat-" Peter warned, slinging a web her way, just as Felicia dodged. She fell backwards off the ledge once more, and disappeared down the fire escape into darkness.
And all he could do was watch, the taste of her on his lips.
Coming with the bad bitch magic
And they can't stand it, when I put these hoes in a panic
Something 'bout it so romantic
Keeping it classic, maybe I'm the next Cate Blanchett
Coming with the bad bitch magic
I'ma let you grab it, feeling like a bitch telepathic
Know I'm gonna slay goddamit
I be so candid - gentle, but a bitch do damage
Abracadabra - Qveen Herby
A.N: If you've made it this far, holy crap, thank you!
This one was very fun to write, and I'm been dying to have Fe and Pe alone together finally! Hope you enjoyed, let me know what you think, if you'd like.