Breaking Fast and Placing Orders.

Again, I wish to thank everyone who has taken the time to read and review. I am most appreciative. I recently made some updates to the first two chapters; mostly grammar and some content changes. A few of you were kind enough to point out to me that MJ and Peter Parker are married, I seem to have missed that detail. So changes have been made, and without further ramblings. Enjoy.

Previously on Spider Man:

Peter half expected her to go back to his place, but was surprised, when they stopped on the balcony of her high rise. She turned to face him, planting a hand on his chest to keep him from entering. "I don't think so. I have this rule about no single men in my apartment."

"You stay at my apartment all the time? Don't I deserve a little reciprocation?" Peter stared at her, hoping he might get some sympathy. It was a long way for him to get home. He watched her laugh.

"No," she closed the door behind her, and he watched her walk away, her hand waving 'goodbye'.

"Women," he dove off the roof, heading back to his home. "Just when you figure them out, they change the game."

Peter practically crashed through his window. He was beat, every inch of him hurt from swing home from the Plaza. His shoulders were on fire; he just wanted a shower, and his bed. As he stripped, he walked towards his bathroom, leaving a trail and not caring. After turning on the shower, he turned to face the mirror. He could make out the slap that Felicia had given him when he first met her on the roof. He absently rubbed his cheek and flinched, with the way his luck ran, there would be at least a bruise there in the morning. Shrugging the thought off, Peter stepped through the curtain, and felt the water hit his arms. As the water warmed, his mind drifted back to the conversation he had with Fisk.

He's spooked, he grinned into the spray. That was good, but not good enough. Spooked would make him more cautious with his activities, but wouldn't make him stop. He could always go back with Felicia, hell she seemed to have enjoyed herself. He just wished he would have thought to ask her what she took. It would have been expensive, shiny, desirable, and fun to have in a person's collection. Essentially, she would have stolen herself. As he stood under the water, he heard his phone start to ring.

Stepping out, he reached for the cell on the sink, lifting it to his ear as he dripped on the floor. "Hello," he made his voice sound tired and annoyed. Even though it was true, he needed to make sure that whoever called him think that he had just woken up.

"Hello Peter," he could hear Felicia purr through the phone. He smiled then. So, she wanted to talk, he was more than willing.

"What's up girl?" He heard her moan, and the sound of fabric rustled through the receiver. She's doing this just to get to me. "I was just wondering if you wanted to have breakfast in the later?" He mulled this over, and couldn't stop the smartass from coming out.

"I thought you had a rule about single men and your apartment?" She laughed then, like he had just told a joke.

"That's only during the nighttime hours. So, how about it?" Peter was stunned then, Felicia Hardy, the Black Cat, sounded unsure, almost as if she was worried he would say no. He couldn't let an opportunity like this go by to mess with her. Just a little.

"I don't know, I just got home, and I have to make an appearance at the Bugle," he heard a whining sound through the phone, and smiled. "Well, how could I say no to my girl."

"I don't know why I put up with you Peter Parker." He laughed then, Black Cat was talking, the real woman, not the rich socialite. "Come around eightish, Mother will be here with a friend, dress nice." He nodded into the phone, glad that she was willing to take charge.

"Sounds good," he couldn't stop himself, he had to see if the Cat was too tired to play. "So, what are you wearing?"

"Nothing but a black lacy g-string, two Victorian diamond rings compliments of Wilson Fisk, my four inch stilettos, and a smile just for you." Peter couldn't stop the groan of need that went through the phone. She laughed quietly, "sleep tight Peter, dream of me."

The phone line went dead, and Peter was surprised to find himself standing near his bed. He flopped forward onto the mattress, not even bothering to dry off, and reached for the lamp. After turning off the light, he muttered to the darkness. "Not a problem Felicia."

Peter gave a groan of disgust as he stood outside the high rise. It reeked of money, and made his skin crawl. He remembered the phone calls that his aunt and uncle used to get. How they eventually knew who was calling, and chose to just try and ignore the ringing. These people would never know what that was like. Peter used to think that if his uncle was still around that the debt collectors calling would have taken him away from his family. He shuddered, the unwelcome memory coming back. No one here knows what that loss is like. He stopped himself ashamed. No, not everyone.

He remembered when he found out who Felicia's father was. How he was the Cat, master thief extraordinaire. How he stole to keep his family safe and happy. And how that same man was the one who now held the formula for creating Captain America somewhere in his mind. He still remembered taking the man up to the roof of the empire state building. How he had told him that he needed to go back to his secret prison. That it was the only way to keep his family safe. He even remembered waiting with the man, for SHIELD to acknowledge that he was waiting. "Are you sure that you want to do this?" The man turned to face Peter, and he could see the sadness there. "You could disappear. You and your family could go somewhere and start over."

"I had thought about that," he looked to the sky and back to Peter. "But I can't do that to my Kitten. If I take her and her mother away, trouble will one day find us." He turned to face Peter, and he could see determination in the old man's eyes. "What the King Pin did to my daughter, I'll never forgive myself. I never wanted her to have to live my life." The sound of engines started to fill the air, and he gestured for him to leave. As Peter approached the edge, he heard the man call his name. "Spider Man,"

"Yes."

"Keep my daughter safe. Look after her." Peter nodded and dove from the roof, looking up to see him surrender to the men holding restraints. I will. Peter had gone to visit Felicia after seeing her father taken away. He had held her as she cried, and when she stopped, she kissed him. He pushed her away, gently, not wanting to hurt her more than she already was. He told her that it would be alright, that things would get better, then he went home to sulk. Mary Jane was still missing at that time, and he was feeling regret for wanting Felicia.

Shaking himself from the memories, he approached the doorman. The man gave him a calculated look, as if trying to figure out what he was doing there. "Can I help you sir?" Peter was surprised, the man seemed to have made up his mind about him, and yet was still being hospitable. Apparently, this man was one of the few who could truly be polite no matter what. Must have been a waiter at some point.

"I'm here to see Felicia Hardy." The look that Peter received said, 'yeah sure, you and every other male in the Burroughs'. But, again to his credit, he approached the call box, and pressed a key.

"Miss Hardy," he released the key and turned to Peter. "Your name sir?"

"Peter Parker." He nodded, and called again.

"Miss Hardy?" The line was silent, and they both waited. After a few moments, he turned to Peter. "She may not be in sir, perhaps if y-,"

"Yes?" They both turned to face the call box.

"Miss Hardy, a Peter Parker is here to see you."

"Thank you Hank, you can send him up." The line went dead, and he turned to open the door.

"Welcome to The Mark Mr. Parker," he stepped back, allowing Peter to approach. "Miss Felicia resides on the 78th floor. If you go to the elevator, speak to Marcus. He will take you up to the top floor." Peter nodded and entered, and his instantly knew why Felicia had chosen the building to be home.

The walls were black and white, and everything seemed to say money. He even felt like he was wasting money by just standing there. As he walked through the halls, he saw the looks he was getting. He merely smiled and waved, enjoying the looks of surprise he was given. The one bit of solace he received though, was watching as a mother sat with her child on one of the sterile looking couches. He noticed that her daughter was wearing a Black Cat T-shirt.

He smiled and approached the elevators. As he neared, he turned to the man standing by wearing a tag that read, 'Marcus'. They nodded to each other. "Which floor sir," Peter smiled. Always 'Sir', no wonder Jameson enjoys being the boss so much.

"All the way to the top." Marcus' eyebrows rose slightly, but pulled a keycard from his belt and swiped it against a scanner, calling the elevator. As the steel doors opened, Peter nodded goodbye, and entered. He looked for a button, but was surprised as the container just started to rise on its own. "What have I gotten myself into?"

Felicia Hardy looked to the mirror again. She was surprised at how girlish she was feeling at the time. She had dated hundreds of men, but they were never any really special. They were fun, but they were always after something. They either wanted her body, or more likely, her money. She had only met one man before Peter that she had loved, enough that she was ready to get married. But then he turned out to be the Hobgoblin, and she was back to the shallow dregs of upper society. She looked down at her hand, and smiled at the ring. She was especially happy to have taken the rings, she knew that when Fisk found them gone, he was going to explode.

The thought of Fisk reminded her of what he did to her. How she ad been kidnapped, and after so many years, taken to her father. She then remembered Fisk standing over her, telling her that she was going to help him with an experiment. She remembered how that eight-legged freak Octavious had dragged her into a glass cylinder, and sealed her within it. She had panicked as a green gas started to fill the chamber, and she tried to hold her breath. But she panicked even more when she couldn't see, and was forced to breathe in the cloud. The second she did, it felt like her lungs were on fire, and then everything else was burning.

When the pain was finally gone, she felt stronger. She looked at herself, she was always defined, but now her muscles were exploding out of her body. She raised a hand to rub the groggy feeling away from her mind, and caught her own hair. It was now down to her butt, and platinum silver; in her opinion, it had looked like she had left hair dye in way too long. She looked to her father, walking towards her, and she noticed that she was now almost taller than him. She didn't listen to the others and her father pulled her into an embrace. "I'm sorry Kitten," she felt his grip tighten then. "But I will get you out of here."

She had trained for weeks nonstop for her to be as good as her father was at being a thief, and a part of her enjoyed it. But the part she enjoyed the most, was taking him home to her mother. When he told them that he was leaving, he told her that everything would be alright, that she would be looked after. But, even though everything was now somewhat 'normal', she still hadn't had the nerve to tell her mother about what she had become.

Her mother was surprised when she had called, asking her to come to breakfast, because she had wanted her to meet someone. That had been awkward. Her mother loved her, she knew that, but she also knew that her mother had a specific type of man in mind for her. So, Felicia doubted that that man would be a photographer who moon lighted as a tight wearing superhero. She leaned into the mirror again, and gripped her hair. She enjoyed being a blonde, mainly because it made people think that she didn't know anything. That was fine with her, it just made it more enjoyable when she showed them that she knew more than them.

She jumped when she finally heard the call box go off. Quickly she made it to the contraption, and felt herself smile when Hank said that Peter had arrived. She ran back to the mirror then, knowing she only had a few moments left before he arrived, and again looked to her reflection. Again, she wished she could simply be only the Black Cat. To leave this life behind, and go away with Peter. "Some day," she whispered. She smiled, looking down at herself as she heard the door being knocked. She put on a smile and walked to the door, opening it with a flourish. "Welcome to my home Mr. Parker."

The ride up to her Penthouse had taken a little longer than Peter had expected, but was surprised when the doors opened to reveal a set of white doors. He approached and knocked. He heard the sound of heels near, and watched as the doors opened, and felt his jaw drop. I'm dead, that's it plain and simple. I'm dead, and paradise is Felicia and a penthouse in Manhattan.

He noted that Felicia wore her hair down, much like when she was Black Cat. But instead of a mane of platinum, a sea of blonde curls fell to her shoulders. She was wearing what he would consider her color black. A slightly form fitting dress that fell to her knees, sexy and classy, but not in Peter's opinion, slutty. She was wearing modest heels, black with a strap over her foot. She smirked as she watched Peter's eyes travel over her. She enjoyed his attention that he gave her during the night, but found herself reveling in it in daylight.

"Peter," his eyes lifted to meet hers, and she smiled. "If you get this excited seeing me in a dress, what would you have done if I answered the door naked?" That shook him from his revelry, and he smiled.

"What I would have done would be considered, at the very least, immodest." She laughed, and stepped back. When he entered, Peter was again shocked by the room. He had expected the room to be like the rest of the hotel. Black and white, cold and sterile. What he discovered was warm reds and browns painted around the room. A rich mahogany floor shined with the room's light, and was sparsely covered with expensive rugs. The rest of the room was filled with art that made him smile in appreciation. He did a quick sweep, and noticed that just one of the paintings would be able to keep him financially comfortable for the rest of his life. Against the far wall, was a bookcase, and Peter smiled. He could count the number of times that he had been crushed underneath that stupid thing, and yet, every time he pushed it back up against the wall, it was perfectly fine.

Felicia watched as he walked around examining the room. She enjoyed watching him as he leaned in close to examine a vase that was tucked into a corner. She knew that he was looking at the vase because he wanted to see its details, that he wasn't trying to figure out exactly how much she had spent on it. She looked to the man, and was glad that he had taken the hint when she told him to dress 'nice'. She could tell it wasn't an uber-name brand shirt, but the white fit him nicely. She enjoyed being able to see the muscle underneath, it made her hands itch. As for slacks, he wore charcoal gray with shined, black wingtips. If Peter was wearing a tie, he would look like he was here for an interview. She walked towards him, I'll have to fix that.

She slipped her arm into his, and guided him from the sitting room to her dining room. "Ready for breakfast?" He nodded, and pulled her closer.

"Sure, what are we having?" She led him through the door, and he was surprised to see who was waiting for them. Peter would recognize Felicia's mother anywhere, even if she wasn't famous. The two looked so similar that they could simply be thought of as sisters, granted slightly, time separated sisters, but still sisters. But what made him panic was the man sitting across the table. Peter was nervous because he hadn't smelt him, which meant that he hadn't had a single smoke since he put those clothes on. He remembered the only time he had tried to quit smoking, and the mayhem that the situation had created. Peter himself had run out and bought the man tobacco, just so that he would stop terrorizing everyone. So, needless to say, seeing J. Jonah Jameson, without any nicotine in his system, was not how Peter wanted to start the day.

"Hello Parker, glad you could join us," Peter heard the low growl in the back of the old man's voice. He knew that this was going to become awkward and uncomfortable real fast.

Breakfast was all around a comfortable affair. Peter sat in silence, and enjoyed listening to Felicia talk shop with her mother and Jameson. God she's grown up. He was surprised to see how much she was steering the conversation to where she wanted it to go. Eventually, she had even gotten Jameson on the defensive about his views on Spider Man. "So you're saying that Spider Man isn't a menace Mr. Jameson?"

"I'd never say that," Peter suppressed a smirk as the old man brought his hand to his mouth, trying to take a pull from a phantom cigar. "He is a menace who has brought out all the freaks, and now they all feel that the city is their arena, and anything goes." Peter had to nod to that. Sure enough, the city was usually hurting when the fight was over. "He deals with these psychos because they came out to find him."

"But Mr. Jameson, wouldn't they have come out anyway, with or without Spider Man?"

"Perhaps, but they would have been dealt with then by normal, certified officers of the law." Peter watched as Felicia shook her head, and smiled. He knew that smile, it meant that she won, you just didn't know it yet.

"So, you admit that they would have come out in one way or another?"

"Yes, of course."

"How many times have the police ever brought down any of the 'super' criminals, to date." He watched as Jameson opened his mouth, and smiled as no words came out. The three just watched as the old man struggled to find words. Peter knew that Jameson wouldn't lie, he wouldn't always tell the truth, but he never lied.

Felicia watched as Jameson squirmed in his chair, but decided to help him relax, he was friends with her mother, and had always been a presence in her life. He wasn't a father figure in her mind, more like the uncle that visited every weekend or so. "Mr. Jameson," red faced, he turned to face her. "How about we agree that Spider Man, like so many things in the legal system that seem unfair, is just a necessary evil in the world?" Peter watched as the old man nodded and rose.

"Fine, may I use your balcony?" When both women nodded, he quickly stepped towards the door. "Parker, a minute." Peter rose noiselessly, excusing himself from the women, and joined his employer outside. He watched as the man pulled a silver case from his suit pocket, and after extracting a cigar, produced a match and lit it. For a moment, the men sat in silence, looking over the city, then Jameson spoke. "What the hell are you doing boy?" Peter turned, surprised to face the man. Jameson had a look that Peter recognized from the bar, compassion and worry.

"I don't know what you're talking about sir." He watched as Jameson took a long pull on the cigar. As he spoke, Peter watched as smoke drifted from him.

"I'm know you're married kid, don't blow a good thing." He turned to face the city. "I lost a woman who was almost my wife because I made a mistake like the one you are making." Jameson took another long drag, as Peter started to laugh. How could this man read people so well, and at the same time, be a complete ass to people?

"Sir, if you're talking about Mary Jane, we're done." He turned and saw Jameson looking at him, trying to figure out if he was lying. "A few weeks ago she said that she had had enough, and kicked me out." Peter looked over the city, his city. "I can't say I didn't see it coming, but was still surprised. That night actually, I sort of bumped into Felicia," he motioned with his head towards the door. "And we just sort of clicked." He watched as Jameson seemed to analyze him, and satisfied, nodded.

"Good, but just make it legal," He continued to smoke, and seemed to be thinking of something else. "If you don't, an ex can make your life a living hell." Peter smirked then.

"Personal experience?" Jameson laughed then. Peter had never really heard that before. It sound sore and rarely used.

"Yep, and listen to your elders." Peter nodded, and then men stayed out, Peter listened as Jameson rambled on Spider Man, and his own life, for close to an hour. Or when his cigar had burned down. "Come on Parker, lets not keep them waiting." They went back in, and finished the day there.

Across the city, Wilson Fisk sat at his desk, staring at his phone. He was trying to decide whether or not that web spraying fool would really follow through on his threat. If he did, danger would be expected. But if he didn't, he just proved how weak, and easily destroyed he could be. Decided, he reach for the phone and punched a number, almost breaking the keys. "Its me," he muttered into the phone. "I need to place an order."

There you have it. I know, I did a little bit of plain old life, so sue me. Now, again, I'm sorry but I need input. Where should I go from here? The reviewer who convinces me best gets their idea written. I am willing to write whoever into the story if you can convince me.

Take it Easy,

-N