Felicia was sitting in the waiting room of a clandestine clinic nestled within an abandoned skyscraper in the Financial District of Manhattan. The clinic was only known to a select few and catered to the city's criminal underworld. It was run by an eccentric and enigmatic fellow known as Dr. Garcon. Felicia didn't know too much about him, though not for lack of trying. Her own investigations only unearthed that he was from France, though his thick accent would easily give that away, and that he graduated from Sorbonne University in 1987. His life afterwards and where he operated before New York was a complete mystery. Felicia, didn't care though, as long as he provided quality medical care, it was a mystery she didn't care to solve. Likewise, the clinic operated in secrecy for many years by making a point to it's clientele "Where else will you find medical care?" The clientele got the message, the clinic's services were too valuable to be exposed and confidentiality was essential. Any individual who would make a point to threaten to expose the clinic would face immediate expulsion and incur the wrath of criminal parties who valued the clinic's services. The clinic had a plus staff of 30, including Dr Garcon, and many specialists who dealt with clients with superhuman abilities. Where Garcon found these people was another mystery Felicia didn't care to solve. The clinic had advanced radiation machines, vibranium needles, scalpels made of adamantium and the strongest anesthetics that could knock out even Wolverine. Felicia became a client of the good doctor some years before, not long after her criminal career started. She'd been employed by a Maggia capo to steal jewels from a rival gang. The heist was successful but Felicia earned a bullet in the right shoulder in her escape. The capo was thankful enough to give Felicia a business card containing the Clinic's information and the clinic's passcode "The Good Doctor sent me." The card was blank on one side with the other side having two numbers printed: "A" was for appointments and "E" was for emergencies. Calling A would be answered by a representative of the clinic who would ask for the passcode, who upon receiving the passcode, would promptly hang up and redial shortly after. Felicia suspected the clinic was tracing the number and location as a security measure. Upon receiving a call back, an appointment could then be made as early as the next hour. Felicia had no idea what would transpire if she dialed the emergency number. After having the bullet extracted and sutured, the clinic became her go to medical provider, and in the following years treated a number of her injuries including : a broken arm, a sprained ankle, and a broken wrist. Today was a different request, one that she wasn't sure if they could service.
She'd been sitting in the waiting room for little over 15 minutes. She was wearing an oversized fur coat to hide her pregnancy. Though it was her first trimester and her pregnancy wasn't exactly noticeable she took no chances. Seated around her was a variety of characters, some from different criminal parties in the city. She recognized a thug from the Inner Demons gang, a few soldiers from different Maggia families, and across from her she was fairly certain was Herman Schultz, aka Shocker. He was reading a newspaper, or pretending to read it, and would occasionally lower it and stealthily peer over in Felicia's direction, but she noticed anyway. She wondered if he recognized her. Any prospect of an attack was moot though, the clinic had a strict rule that no disruptions were to be made regardless of any conflicts between clients. Felicia had been witness to the consequence of disobeying such rule at her last clinic visit when two men starting fighting each other. Within seconds, Dr. Garcon's voice came over in a loudspeaker: "There will be no fighting in my clinic! Goodbye!" The two men disappeared in a puff of smoke, and everyone else in the waiting room continued on with their patience as if nothing happened. Whatever happened to those two men was anyone's guess, another mystery no one dared to experience, and they were reportedly never seen again. Felicia suspected Dr. Garcon was mutant with teleportation powers or had the means of teleportation. She didn't care to know, she just wanted to know his medical input on her condition.
In her hands, she was reading "Crime and Punishment," by Fyodor Dostoevsky or so it appeared. The cover and back had been torn off along with the spine and placed over a book about infant care. She took her pregnancy and it's secrecy very seriously. She was nearing the end of her first trimester and the past few days were nerve racking for her. This wasn't going to be an ordinary pregnancy given the Father's biology. There was this horrifying thought on her mind that her womb was made of webbing and their wasn't baby inside but hundreds of small spiders ready to eat her in an act of matriphagy. The father was "Spider" man after all. Whatever, the case she'd have her answers hopefully soon. A few minutes later the good doctor finally appeared and turned his attention towards Felicia. He was man in his late 50s, average height, graying hair cut neatly short, and a thick white mustache curled at the ends. He always wore a creme color sash across his neck and thick round glasses giving him a jovial appearance. He seemed like the last person one would think attended to the city's criminal underworld's medical needs.
"Ahh, Dah-lin so good to see you again!" Garcon happily exclaimed as he approached her with open arms. Felicia stood up and embraced the doctor.
"Garcon," she smiled as she backed at him.
They were on friendly terms, Felicia finding his eccentric behavior amusing and the doctor finding Felicia a pleasure to work with unlike the rest of his clientele. Felicia also found it adorable how he always called her "Darling," though his accent made it sound like "Dah-lin." He led her inside and proceeded down the hall towards to an unused room. As they walked down the hall, Felicia peered over the rooms they passed seeing various criminals and supervillains being attended to by other physicians and nurses in the clinic. They finally reached their room where the doctor promptly took his seat beside a cabinet filled with various medical supplies. As he took his seat, he wiped his glasses with his sash while Felicia stood in the corner of the room with her back facing him.
"So Dah-lin! What can I do for you today?"
Felicia undid the buttons on her fur coat and then turned to face the doctor.
"Well this," she replied.
As she faced the doctor, he could see the simple white shirt she was wearing underneath, her stomach extending slightly outward. His eyes widened when he realized what she was alluding to.
"Well…..Dah-lin this is new." He wiped his glasses again.
"Can you help me with this?"
"Of course Dah-lin, but you know we don't really get this kind of request."
"I know, but I can't see a regular doctor for this. Garcon please," her voice shuddered a bit. Garcon stood up, seeing the uneasiness in Felicia's face, and grabbed her hand in assurance.
"Of course Dah-lin. I'll do what we can. But first, seriously though who is the lucky man?" He peered at her with a smile.
"S-spiderman," she said uneasily.
"Ah! So the rumors are true! I'm guessing he's not going to be a part of the baby's life?"
"No," she said dejectedly, her eyes turned downward towards the floor. Seeing her despondent expression, Garcon knew it was time to put an end to his curiosity and prioritize his role as a doctor.
"Well, let's get started shall we?"
The next hour and half followed a battery of tests to determine Felicia and her baby's health. The most important and nerve racking was the ultrasound. Her fears were finally put to rest when the figure of a developing human fetus came up on the ultrasound.
"It's going to be a boy, Dah-lin!" Garcon exclaimed.
She wasn't pregnant with a spider or spiders and her womb was definitely not made of webbing. The tests concluded with a blood test, the results were going to be emailed to Felicia later. After they were concluded, Garcon led Felicia out of his clinic personally. As they walked down the stairs towards the covert exit they chatted a bit. Garcon gave his medical recommendations: Prenatal vitamins, an all organic diet to avoid any pesticides for the sake of the baby, and a followup appointment in the next four weeks. She made a point to him that for all intents and purposes, she was retired and wanted to have her pregnancy as clandestine as possible. Garcon reassured her he and his staff would keep her secret. They hugged before she exited the building.
"Take care Dah-lin," he said as they parted ways.
As she exited she looked at the time on her phone, it was 1:28 in the afternoon. She had a flight at JFK airport at 3:05 pm and made haste quick. She walked a bit before hailing the first cab she saw. The ride took about 45 minutes leaving her ample time to check in to her flight. She wanted to leave the city as quick as possible. The more time she was there, the more the idea of seeing a certain "Wall-crawler," floated on her mind. She dismissed that notion as she checked in with the airline attendant. The attendant checked her ticket and typed on her computer as she muttered:
"Ok, Felicity Harmon. Chicago 1st class, ohhh.."
The despondent utterance of that last word caught Felicia's attention.
"Oh I'm so sorry miss the flight just got delayed. It's going to be about 6 more hours, I'm sorry."
The proceeding conversation engaged in inquiries in other flight alternatives, a failed attempt at a bribe and concluded with short fruitless outburst from Felicia. No other option was available. She sighed heavily as she resigned to staying at the airport till her flight arrived. She wondered if her son inherited his father's so called "Parker luck," and was the cause of the string of bad luck plaguing her the past few months. In the proceeding hours, she sat alone in the terminal and flipped her phone between her hands, occasionally stopping and going through her contacts, the temptation of calling Spiderman on her mind, before she would turn the phone off and beginning flipping it in between her hands again. After about two hours she went to a terminal restaurant and ate an organic margherita pizza, her mind now thinking any opportunity to see Spiderman was now moot. The last four hours involved Felicia rejecting the advances of another waiting airline patron, who after a round of beer rustled the courage to speak to the attractive woman sitting alone, another round of cycling her phone on and off again, another pizza, and then finally awkwardly trying to find an outlet to charge her phone.
"Flight D11 to Chicago now boarding," it came over on the loudspeaker.
Felicia responded quickly, heading to the terminal gate and checking her ticket with the staff. As she took her seat , she rested her head against the window, her hands settled and no longer juggling her phone. After about 20 minutes, the plane was finally loaded. Another 5 minutes, the plane took off and Felicia was happy to see the cityscape disappear in the distance.