Chapter 2

A/N: So, before we start, I just want you all to know that it recently came to my attention that no one but me could see the pictures I've been putting on some of my stories. That should be fixed now, so if anyone wasn't able to see Miles' costume at the end of the last chapter, try looking again. If anyone still has problems, please tell me and I'll try to work something out for you.

Miles POV

For several seconds following Leonard's statement, Miles remained frozen silently in place, trying but finding himself unable to believe that he'd actually just heard what he thought he'd heard. Finally collecting himself, Miles leaned over Leonard menacingly and growled out, "What did you just say?! SAY IT AGAIN!"

Trying to lean his head away from Miles, Leonard panickedly repeated, "Fisk! Wilson Fisk!"

"I know the name!" Miles told him angrily, then reminded the criminal, "I asked to know what you said about him!"

Looking terrified, Leonard said, "He's getting out! The cops are releasing him from Ryker's today!"

Clenching his teeth beneath his mask, Miles abruptly raised his clawed hand and lashed out to stab one finger forcefully into the man's neck, causing him to gasp out in pain as his eyes went wide before his eyes slowly closed and his body fell limp. However, despite how it appeared, Miles had not quite killed the man, instead just injecting him with a powerful, fast-acting sedative inside a small syringe hidden beneath his claw that instantly knocked the man out.

Then, once that was done, Miles turned and walked towards the wall in front of the bound man. Strangely, though, he didn't stop or even slow down as he reached it, and instead simply walked right through the stone bricks like they weren't there. Which, as it turned out, they weren't, and the 3D image simply folded away to allow Miles to pass through it before it closed once again behind him, though from the outside, Miles could now look into the room he was currently leaving and see nothing more than a man lying on a table, apparently having a peaceful nap. However, Miles wasn't one to take chances, and though his prisoner was unconscious, he still closed and locked the one-way glass door leading into the room behind him as he exited.

Leaving the hologram room and instead entering into a much bigger one, Miles strode purposefully across the room towards his worktable in the back. As he walked, his outfit automatically changed its appearance with a mere thought from its wearer. The lights went out on the sides of his shoes, leaving them looking like everyday sneakers. The magenta lights all across his clothes faded out, leaving Miles wearing what appeared to be a casual pair of black cargo pants and a designless black shirt. His coat folded itself inward at the collar and on the back as he took it off (revealing his shirt to be sleeveless and revealing his well-defined arm muscles), shrinking his black trench coat into what looked like a common leather motorcycle jacket. His clawed gauntlets opened around his hands and the plates automatically shuffled their way down to his wrists, where they shifted themselves into a pair of compressed silver vambraces running up his forearms.

Finally, the mask over Miles' face split in half from top to bottom down the center, then folded itself to either side around the back of his head, revealing short, curly hair worn in a fade above a handsome face that was slightly marred by a thin scar that ran down over his right eye, which one might notice was a slightly lighter shade than the other one if they looked closely enough. However, his facial imperfections were minor and barely noticeable. Anyone still would've surely thought that Miles was a glorious specimen of humanity, having developed well throughout his life and especially the last few years. Even the cold, concentrated glare he wore disturbingly often, like right now, couldn't detract from his comeliness.

Throwing his jacket on the chair next to his worktable as he reached it, Miles waved a hand over the surface of the table and caused the work surface to flip over to reveal a compact screen hidden on the other side of it. However, as Miles began to type on the electronic keyboard that appeared on the screen, the other person in the room got tired of being ignored and decided to make herself known.

Sitting in a chair at her own workspace right next to Miles', the curly brown-haired young woman who had been remotely assisting Miles' interrogation from outside, Phin Mason, took off her set of headphones and leaned over towards him to say, "You know, one of these days you'll have to let me use my nickname."

Miles didn't respond to her statement or even acknowledge that she had spoken, instead just continuing with his work.

Knowing that he was deliberately avoiding speaking to her and taking it as an excuse to keep going, Phin then asked, "What if a bad guy heard you say my name? What if they found out who I am? They'd come for me, and then they'd attack the company and everyone inside it!"

Miles was silent for another moment, then responded, "We both know I don't leave my enemies in any condition for them to do that."

"Oh, please. Like you haven't fought your fair share of cyborgs along with every other kind of crazy," Phin argued with a roll of her eyes.

"Not since Jersey," Miles pointed out, referring to the famous event that happened a year ago that had ended all supervillain threats.

Clearly knowing that she would have a hard time arguing against that point, Phin shook her head and got back on the original subject. "Oh, come on! You get a cool nickname! I agreed not to go into the field with you, but can't I at least have a cool name?"

"If you want it to be 'cool', you need something a lot better than 'Tinkerer'," Miles told her, expressing his dislike of the codename she'd suggested to him a couple weeks ago. "That name has no taste."

"That was my brother's old nickname," Phin defended.

"Your brother had no taste, then," Miles immediately shot back. He saw Phin lean back in her chair, looking somewhat hurt at that, and Miles knew why. Her brother had died several years back, and perhaps it was a bit insensitive of Miles to speak about him in this way, especially to Phin, but he was starting to get annoyed.

He'd met Phin back at school during his last year there and had quickly determined that she was one of the smartest people he'd ever met. After leaving school and starting up his own business with some of the money his uncle had left him, he'd been quick to offer her the position of his Chief Operating Officer, a position she'd readily accepted after having been his trusted friend for the last year. Since then, she'd basically been running his entire life, helping to keep the company afloat when Miles struggled to balance his normal life with his life as the Prowler, which had eventually caused him to feel like she deserved an explanation for what he really did with his free time, leading to him revealing his secret to her.

At first, he'd been worried that she might not approve of his secret life, but then she'd brought up her brother. Miles had actually forgotten all about it until Phin had reminded him, but apparently her brother had been the mechanic whose death Miles had avenged during his first mission as the Prowler, stealing a "clean" power source from the Roxxon Corporation that Phin's brother had apparently created before he'd lost his life trying to destroy it after discovering that it was poisonous.

So Phin had happily joined Miles' crusade and begun helping him with both sides of his life, becoming an immeasurable blessing to him. But she did have the tendency to be a bit forward about her opinions, getting somewhat carried away with the knowledge that Miles couldn't possibly get rid of her, and Miles just didn't have the patience for that sort of behavior. So she could bring up her brother all she wanted. Miles had a city to protect and no time to waste on being gentle with people. Besides, he wasn't exactly a stranger to loss himself.

But Phin wasn't the only thing annoying him right now. Getting frustrated and slamming a hand down on his table, Miles demanded, "Why isn't this thing working?!"

Scooting over next to him on her rolling chair, Phin looked over Miles' shoulder and instantly determined, "It's the new software. You forgot to account for the satellite re-angling with the back transmission. I've got it."

Huffing at how Phin had figured out his problem before he could without even knowing what he was working on, Miles nevertheless tried to remain calm as Phin rolled back over to her own desk and simply tapped a few buttons on her own keyboard before Miles' screen finally stopped loading, signifying that the satellites had been successfully realigned. The start-up screen appeared as the system booted up, showing Miles' company logo, an angel facing forward with its wings spread out to its sides, split down the middle with one half black and the other white, and the words "Seraph Technologies" printed beneath it.

Not even wanting to risk dealing with any more technological issues today and further increasing his anger, Miles simply cleared his throat and told Phin, "Pull up the Guardian Angel Protocol. Tap into the police scanner at Ryker's Prison."

As she followed Miles' orders, sharing her screen with Miles' workbench so they could both see the same thing, Phin asked, "So you're going after that Fisk guy Leonard mentioned? Why? What's his deal?"

Uncomfortable memories coming back to Miles after laying dormant for years, he answered, "Wilson Fisk was the adopted father of the Kingpin."

"Woah, seriously? Like, as in Matt Murdock?" Phin asked, of course having heard of the man who had once practically ruled the city before falling hard when he came close to destroying it instead.

Nodding his head as the security cameras at Ryker's appeared on his screen, Miles said, "Yeah. But towards the end of Murdock's time, Fisk turned against him and beat his son into a bloody pulp, claiming that he hadn't known about Murdock's criminal activities. I didn't believe him, but he surrendered himself and agreed to go to prison. I didn't know what to think."

Looking confused, Phin shrugged and said, "Okay, so maybe he just made a mistake. He served his time and now he's getting out while Murdock's staying in. What's the problem?"

"The problem is that my uncle once told me that Fisk was the original Kingpin before he supposedly 'went legit'," Miles explained, folding his fingers in front of himself as he watched the cameras intently. He hadn't believed Fisk's story when he'd first heard it, and the years had only reinforced that doubt. In fact, his memories of that time had faded somewhat by now, but Miles had even sometimes thought that he recalled Fisk being closely involved in deeply incriminating events right alongside his son, knowing all about him being the Kingpin long before he'd ever claimed to be ignorant of it. But if that was the case, it still didn't explain why Fisk would turn against his son and put Murdock away for life. Not unless Fisk had his own hidden agenda.

Glaring at one particular image that showed the cell of an enormous man in an orange jumpsuit, Miles added, "I don't believe leopards change their spots so easily. The only way I was ever going to trust Wilson Fisk was behind bars. Now, our new friend Leonard says that Fisk getting out is the start of something big. Call me paranoid, but I get the feeling that this city might not get to enjoy the quiet for much longer."

Gwen POV

"Are you serious?!" Gwen asked as she burst into her boss's office.

Sighing as she closed the file she'd been perusing, Yuri Watanabe didn't look at Gwen as she responded, "Officer Stacy, out of respect for your father, I'm willing to overlook this intrusion-"

"Captain, with respect, can you just drop the formalities for two seconds and tell me if what I heard was true?" Gwen asked. "Are you really letting Wilson Fisk out?"

Standing up and leaning over her desk to look at Gwen, Yuri answered, "No, I'm not. You are."

Rearing back in shock, Gwen said, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Yuri told Gwen firmly. "You're going to go down to Ryker's later today and handle Fisk's release. And then I'm going to assign you and your partner to oversee his parole agreement with all the free time you have on your hands these days. Consider it the price you pay for being late to work today and for barging into my office like that."

"Captain, you know I have nothing but respect for you," Gwen said in a voice of forced calm, "But you have to see that letting Fisk out is a bad idea."

Yuri continued staring at Gwen for a moment, then ordered quietly, "Close the door."

Raising an eyebrow curiously, Gwen nonetheless quickly followed her captain's order, going to the back of the room and shutting the door. She then walked back up to Yuri, who took a deep breath and said, "Okay, Gwen, look. I agree with you that letting Fisk out seems like a bad idea. Whether or not he was knowingly involved in Murdock's activities, Fisk represents a time that we've just recently managed to put behind us. With the repurposing of Fisk Tower and now supervillains being off the board, the Battle of New York is finally fading into the past where it belongs, and I feel like letting Fisk out just reopens that wound. But it's not up to me. His court defense was strong, it made him seem like he was acting under duress. Whether or not that's true, we can't be certain, but the judge and jury believed him, and honestly, we were lucky to get him away for three years, especially with the deal he made for government probation upon release. Now, he's served his time and they want him out."

Shaking her head in disgust, Gwen said, "There's no way I'm going to be the one to let him out."

"Yes, you are," Yuri insisted, and when Gwen still looked rebellious, Yuri added, "I was supposed to be the one to do it, and I don't like it any more than you do. But I think sending you is the smarter move, Gwen. As Spider-Woman's liaison to the PDNY, I'm willing to bet that if you go to Ryker's, Spider-Woman's going to be keeping an eye on you, and she'll see trouble coming a mile away. Then, after you've gotten her attention on Fisk, she'll help us to keep tabs on him without us even needing to ask her."

Oh, great. So now Gwen's supposed close contact with Spider-Woman was being used as an excuse to make her release one of the people she'd put away as Spider-Woman. Also someone who knew Spider-Woman's secret identity, making him more dangerous to have out in the open than most.

But while Gwen was mostly against this plan, her feelings were also somewhat conflicted. After all, she hadn't known Fisk as well or as long as… someone else had. Spider-Woman had only ever fought Fisk once, which he had said was because she had broken into his son's workplace. The most memorable moment that Gwen recalled relating to Wilson Fisk was him tackling Matt Murdock to the ground. Between Fisk's sheer size and the fact that Murdock couldn't see the attack coming, Gwen had been surprised that Matt's heart hadn't just given out from the shock of it. Given what had happened to him later instead, part of Gwen wondered if maybe he would've been more fortunate if it had.

And while he did indeed know Spider-Woman's identity, Fisk had never shared it with anyone since going to prison, at least not as far as Gwen had been able to determine. Perhaps he had indeed been a criminal once, but Gwen was willing to consider the possibility that maybe he wasn't one anymore, that now he was just a guy trying to become legitimate. After all, he had been a famous philanthropist and humanitarian before his incarceration, so maybe Gwen could afford to give him the benefit of the doubt.

And if she was wrong, Spider-Woman would just put him away again, even easier this time now that she wouldn't have to fight through a city full of supervillains to get to him. Yuri was right. They didn't have any choice but to go along with this plan, but they would be fine as long as Spider-Woman followed it all closely.

Throwing up her hands in exasperation, Gwen turned and walked back over by the door of Captain Watanabe's office before grasping the handle with one hand while using the other to point a finger across the room at her boss before telling her, "Fine. I'll do it, and I'll ask Spider-Woman to keep an eye on him. But I'm going to wear my 'grumpy face' the whole time."

"That's as much as I can ask from you, Gwen," Yuri acknowledged with a grateful nod.

Gwen opened the door and stepped out of the captain's office and back into the general office space, where she walked over to her assigned desk space and sat down in her chair, placing her elbows on the surface of the desk and burying her face in her hands as she tried to collect her thoughts for a moment.

After a moment, she heard a woman's voice speak from in front of her, sounding genuinely impressed as she said with a French accent, "You know, your ability to come in late and still become depressed within the first hour or two every day is quite remarkable. I'm actually a bit jealous."

Smiling at the joke, Gwen looked up at the woman sitting across from her and responded, "Just trying to catch up with the rest of you older cops, Louise. How am I doing so far?"

"Exceptionally well," Louise answered, causing Gwen to share a grin with her.

When Gwen had first gotten herself assigned to the PDNY, her dad's old stomping grounds, she'd originally been worried about some of the restrictions the job might impose on her, but she needn't have been so concerned for several reasons. For one, the PDNY had officially deputized Spider-Woman several months ago, and Gwen had used her… "connections" to the heroine to get Gwen Stacy named as the police's personal liaison and only direct contact between the two, as Spider-Woman had apparently formed a close friendship with Gwen and refused to work under anyone else, except for Captain Watanabe, of course. For another, the recent abating in all supervillain activity meant that Spider-Woman wasn't needed nearly as often as she'd been a year ago. And finally and perhaps most importantly was the partner Gwen had been assigned.

A few years back, over half of the PDNY throughout all of New York City had been killed by their own coworkers during an intense attempted coup of the entire city by Matt Murdock, the Kingpin of Crime. Many cops had apparently been on Murdock's payroll, having been bribed or otherwise coerced into following the Kingpin's orders, and they'd been commanded to eliminate the remaining good cops to keep them out of Murdock's way.

Unfortunately for them, they'd overestimated how much control they had and some of the cops had survived while all of Murdock's people were the ones wiped out first instead. But in the wake of that betrayal, the newly appointed Captain Yuri Watanabe had taken new precautions to prevent more cops from getting corrupted, refusing to let such a terrible history lesson repeat itself on her watch. One of those new precautions was that every cop had to be watched by a partner at all times, even during their own personal work, which unfortunately included Gwen's private "communication" with Spider-Woman.

But to her relief, Gwen couldn't have been assigned a better partner than the one she'd gotten. After the PDNY had been decimated by their internal conflict, they'd taken on a lot of new recruits to rebuild their numbers quickly, some of whom were still undergoing certain training at the time they first got in. One of those had been Gwen herself, who'd gotten out of the Academy just about a year ago. Another one was Louise Cadieux, a woman with long, dark brown hair and fair skin, and who had joined the police shortly after the Battle of New York, and thus had been on the force for two years before Gwen got in as well.

She was around nine years older than Gwen, but that fact had never stopped the two of them from getting along like a house on fire from the moment they'd first met. For one, Louise was usually quite relaxed, possessing a sense of humor that worked well with Gwen's habit of making jokes in tense situations, as well as a mind that was open to the prospect of doing something fun every now and then. And she was also a big fan of Spider-Woman, so much so that Gwen had actually eventually told Louise about her secret identity, which was a great advantage to Gwen as Louise had used the knowledge many times to make excuses for Gwen, helping her keep her job despite how many times she'd been forced to be absent from the station while she dealt with certain problems she heard about from her fellow cops as Spider-Woman. Ultimately, Louise and Gwen had become like sisters, with Louise being the only person besides Aunt May that Gwen had left.

After a moment of Louise waiting patiently for Gwen to say what was bothering her, Gwen leaned back in her chair and sighed as she informed her partner, "Captain Watanabe just gave us a job. She wants us to go down to Ryker's and oversee the release of Wilson Fisk."

Tilting her head at that curiously, Louise asked, "Where do I know that name from?"

"He was Matt Murdock's adopted dad," Gwen reminded her, knowing that many people would likely have forgotten all about the less important names in the Kingpin's old case, seeing as it had been so long ago and had mentioned countless different names as numerous questions were asked, even if Gwen would never be able to forget that time completely.

Her eyes widening at that news, Louise asked, "What?! Is she crazy?! ... Er, sorry… I meant to say, with respect, is she crazy?"

Smirking at Louise's joke, Gwen shrugged and answered, "I don't know. Last I saw him, Fisk looked like he was about to kill Murdock. And then he surrendered himself. The courts suggested that he'd acted unknowingly and under duress, what with his son being involved. He went to prison for being unable to see the signs of what Murdock was turning into. DA Nelson almost went away for the same thing, but his defense was even stronger. Apparently Murdock threatened to hurt his family if Nelson ever tried to say anything. I caught the sniper that was watching their butcher shop. But Fisk was even closer to Murdock. I doubt that kind of betrayal left him feeling any sort of loyalty to his son after. And besides, Murdock's no longer any kind of threat, what harm could it do?"

Looking uncomfortable, Louise said, "I still don't like it. My father always said not to trust a businessman."

Her eye twitching involuntarily at that comment, Gwen looked away and said, "Well, it's not really up to us. The release papers have already been signed. If we don't let him out, someone else will. At least this way, we can keep an eye on things."

Leaning away from Gwen, Louise shook her head at the younger woman and asked, "Why do you hate me?"

Smiling in amusement, Gwen stood up and said, "Come on, you big crybaby." She then quickly snatched the car keys off of Louise's desk before tossing them into the air and catching them again as she added, "I'm driving."

Line Break

"Do you have to run every red light?" Louise asked, worriedly holding tightly onto the car's grab handle above herself as Gwen sped through another intersection with the squad car's lights blaring on the roof to make traffic move aside for them.

Keeping her eyes on the road, Gwen easily answered, "My usual mode of transportation is swinging from rooftops at up to over 100 miles per hour. After that, car traffic's too slow for me." Of course, there was another, more personal reason that Gwen insisted on ignoring every red light she came to, as a subconscious attempt to stave off painful memories of old conversations, but she wasn't about to share that information with anyone, not even Louise.

Deciding to change the subject, Gwen suggested, "Hey, you wanna turn on some music?"

Louise looked at Gwen and answered, "As long as it's not that Mary Janes CD you always play."

Gwen looked shocked at that sentence and asked, "What, you don't like it?"

"No, it's not that. It's just… Gwen, that's the only one you ever want to listen to! And it has exactly one decent song on it."

"Hey, that used to be my band!" Gwen defended as she had done many times before, feeling an odd amount of pride at the knowledge that her old friends had achieved some measure of success, even though they'd done it without her. It was fine. Gwen missed them, but she'd found a new, much more important calling, to protect the city. So it was fine. They were happy, and Gwen was happy that they were happy. Nothing more to it.

Seeing Louise waiting for a more clear answer out of the corner of her eye, Gwen finally gave in and said, "Okay, fine. You can pick something for us to listen to, but only for a little while, okay?"

Smiling victoriously, Louise leaned forward and turned on the car's regular radio, then began tuning the channels until she found one she liked, a pop station. At first, Gwen scrunched up her nose with distaste, but listened to a few notes of the first song before deciding that it wasn't that bad. It was an electronic/pop song, "Who Knew" by P!nk, not too far off from Gwen's usual preference of electric rock, and she decided to let it slide this time. Or at least, she did at first, but then the song's chorus began to play, and with every sentence she heard, more and more color drained out of Gwen's face.

"If someone said three years from now / You'd be long gone / I'd stand up and punch them out / 'Cause they're all wrong / I know better 'cause you said forever. / And ever. Who knew?"

Gwen listened to the entire chorus, silently praying that it would soon get better and stop feeling like it was digging into her soul, but it never did, and at the end of it, she quickly reached forward and hit the button to silence the radio.

Looking over at Gwen in confusion as she was cut off from singing along absently with the music, Louise protested, "Uh… hey, Gwen? I think you accidentally hit the button to-"

"Can we just… enjoy the quiet for a few minutes?" Gwen cut her off, avoiding Louise's eyes as she returned her attention to the road just in time to make their turn.

Giving Gwen a reproachful look, Louise said, "Gwen, we just went over this. You said I could have the radio for a few-"

"Louise," Gwen cut her off again, and looked into her friend's eyes as she simply said, "Please."

Perhaps Louise noticed the desperation in Gwen's voice, or maybe she was just willing to accept this strangeness so long as Gwen wasn't trying to put in her CD. But for whatever reason, Louise only needed to look into Gwen's eyes for a short moment before she nodded her head and directed her gaze forward as she said, "Yeah, alright. The quiet's nice."

Grateful, Gwen nodded as a sign of silent thanks, then continued to focus on the road ahead. Neither of them said anything else for the rest of the drive.

Line Break

When Gwen and Louise arrived at Ryker's Prison, they checked in at the front desk and filled out the necessary paperwork for them to approve Wilson Fisk's release. They then walked outside and stood in front of a gate as they waited for the prisoner to be brought to them.

After a few minutes, they saw Wilson Fisk getting marched towards them, still wearing his orange prison jumpsuit and handcuffs on his wrists, escorted by two prison guards and followed closely by a man with curly dark hair and glasses and wearing an exceedingly fine blue suit with a striped red necktie. As the group approached, the gate separating them from Gwen, Louise, and the rest of the free world automatically slid open to admit them.

However, before the guards allowed Fisk to step outside, they pulled him to a stop just inside the prison field's perimeter, and one began to take the handcuffs off him as the other began to say, "Wilson Grant Fisk, you are being released early from Ryker's Island, New York, on certain conditions that you and your lawyers have already agreed to. For legal reasons, I will now restate these conditions. Your investments and all financial accounts will be monitored closely for the next five years. The full collection of your assets, not including the federally-imposed fines you've paid, are hereby returned to your possession, but you will be confined to an annual spending limit for the next five years, and all transactions made during that time period must first be cleared with your federally-provided overseeing agency. You have agreed to a probation deal with both the City of New York in the State of New York as well as with the United States of America. Under this agreement, all of your natural rights as a free American citizen are hereby reinstated, but you will be tailed and both personally and electronically monitored at all times by law enforcement officers (except for during sleep or when meeting privately with your lawyers) for the next five years, provided by the Police Department of New York and/or the Federal Bureau of Investigation. This includes bathrooms, mealtimes, and work hours, even private business meetings. Do you understand and agree to these terms?"

"I do," Fisk answered as he watched all of his chains being removed, his deep voice sounding just as Gwen remembered from years back.

The guard that had reminded Fisk of the terms of his release nodded in satisfaction, and the other one finished collecting Fisk's restraints before he faced Gwen and Louise before telling them, "Alright, that's it. He's all yours. But be careful, he bites."

Gwen raised an eyebrow at that, but the man in the suit, who was now standing to the side with his hands clutched in front of himself, quickly warned, "I don't think it's wise to introduce a recently-freed ex-convict to his new handlers with false pretenses, gentlemen."

Rolling his eyes, the guard that had spoken looked back at Gwen and corrected himself, "I was kidding. Fisk's the easiest job you'll ever have. The guy's been the quietest prisoner in this place for three years. He won't give you any trouble."

Gwen nodded in acceptance, though she was still slightly wary of Fisk.

Fisk and the man in the glasses both stepped out of the prison's perimeter gate as it began to slide closed behind them. Watching him closely, Gwen quickly noticed him looking at and recognizing her, clearly processing the fact that Spider-Woman had evidently and somewhat ironically joined the PDNY during the three years he'd been in prison, but he said nothing about it and instead simply looked away after only a small moment.

Fisk then stopped in place and closed his eyes as he stood up tall and drew in a deep breath, his first breath of free air in over three years. It lasted several seconds, until Gwen began to feel a bit impatient and could tell that Louise was feeling the same way, but the man in the suit just stood calmly by and watched Fisk in silence for several moments before he finally said, "Sir, we should probably be getting to the club. Get you out of those prison clothes and into something more comfortable before your guests arrive."

"Yes, of course," Fisk agreed with a nod, slowly opening his eyes.

However, Gwen was confused and asked, "'The club'? What club? And what guests?"

The man in the suit looked at Gwen and smiled pleasantly as he answered, "It's the place where Mr. Fisk is going to be staying until further notice. A club he opened years ago. And in celebration of his release, he's decided that we're going to be hosting a party there tonight."

Shocked by this news, Gwen looked back at Fisk and asked, "What? Fisk, you never cleared this with us! As your overseeing officers-"

"If you haven't stayed up-to-date on Mr. Fisk's schedule, that is on you," the man in the glasses suddenly cut Gwen off. "We already cleared this arrangement with our federal supervisors. They're already there, awaiting our arrival."

Getting somewhat annoyed by this unknown character who kept answering the statements that Gwen was trying to direct at Fisk, Gwen glared at the well-dressed man and asked, "Who are you supposed to be? You're not one of Fisk's lawyers."

The man opened his mouth to answer her question, but Fisk put out a hand to stop him first and patiently introduced to Gwen, "My assistant, James Wesley. And you are?"

Confused, Gwen asked, "What?"

Bowing his head humbly, Fisk explained, "I just thought I should know the names of the officers who are so generously taking time out of their busy schedules to watch over me."

For a moment, Gwen remained frozen, unsure of why Fisk was acting like he didn't recognize her, but then she realized that he was doing it for the sake of her secret identity. While he had met Spider-Woman and knew who she was beneath the mask, the rest of the world didn't know that Wilson Fisk had ever encountered Gwen Stacy, and so he was now trying to maintain that image by pretending like he had never met her for the sake of his assistant and Louise, unknowing that one of them was already in on Gwen's secret.

Clearing her throat, Gwen gestured to herself and then to Louise as she introduced, "Officer Stacy, Officer Cadieux. We're going to be in charge of your probation on the PDNY's end, Mr. Fisk."

Bowing his head, Fisk responded, "Well, that's very kind of you. If there's anything I can do for either of you to make your jobs easier, don't hesitate to ask."

"Or order," Louise added as she folded her arms across her chest and looked at Fisk with barely-disguised dislike.

Gwen looked back at her reproachfully, but Fisk just nodded and agreed, "Or order. I'm sure that you both have things you'd rather be doing with your time, so I'll try to make this job easier for you in any way I can."

Turning back to the large man who was now her responsibility, Gwen tried to quickly draw attention away from Louise's obvious contempt for Fisk by telling him, "Then you can start by getting in the car. If the rest of our watch is waiting for us at your club, then we'd better rendezvous with them as soon as possible. This club is going to be your permanent residence for the duration of your monitored probation?"

Shrugging, Fisk answered, "Unless I find somewhere more suitable for my business dealings, yes."

Fisk's assistant, Wesley, then stepped forward and added, "But if that's the case, Mr. Fisk's probation officers will certainly be given prior notice to avoid any… confusion."

"You mean a manhunt," Louise observed.

Nodding and giving a small shrug, Wesley clarified, "Or similar unpleasantness, yes."

Already starting to see that this was going to be a mentally-taxing assignment, Gwen sighed and stepped aside to give Fisk and his aide a straight path to their car as she told them, "Whatever. Let's just get going. Apparently we have a party to prepare for."

Line Break

About an hour later, they arrived at Fisk's club in Hell's Kitchen, a big building called The Tycoon. Through the numerous glass panes all around the exterior walls, Gwen could see that the place was currently empty, most likely so the FBI could get themselves set up around Fisk's new living quarters without anyone getting in their way or being able to figure out their security layout.

After Gwen pulled the car up in front of the building and parked it by the side of the road, she and Louise exited the vehicle first and walked around to make sure that the area was secure before they opened the door to first let Wesley climb out, then Fisk. Fisk looked up at his club and let out a deep breath, clearly steeling himself for the upcoming task of trying to settle back into a normal life, then led the way up to the front entrance, Wesley and Louise following closely behind him while Gwen brought up the rear, still keeping her eyes (and more importantly, her Spider-Sense) open for any potential threats.

Fortunately, they encountered no resistance and easily made their way into the club without any issues. Once they were inside, Gwen looked around the high-ceilinged room and quickly took account of her new work environment. The place was filled with a lot of open space, particularly on the ground floor, though in the center of the room was a spiral staircase with glass steps leading up to a second floor where there seemed to be some kind of lounge area. At the back of the room on both levels was a stocked bar, and there was a large dance floor taking up most of the space on the lower floor, with a stage next to it that had both a DJ's booth and a place for an instrumental band. Clearly, Fisk knew how to keep his customers happy.

At the moment, though, there were no lights or music or anyone drinking at the bar. Instead, there were over a dozen men and women in business attire, wearing clean white shirts and ties with suits ranging from blue to black, roaming around the building. Some were standing at attention on vantage points with wire earpieces on the sides of their heads. Others were carrying equipment in through multiple entrances, but everyone was busy, especially one man in particular standing in the middle of the room who seemed to be directing it all, calling out orders to everyone at once.

When Gwen and Louise came in with Fisk, however, the man in charge seemed to hear their quiet arrival and turned to face them. He had dark blond hair combed neatly over his head and wore a dark blue suit coat with matching pants, though he seemed to be the only one here not wearing a tie, and the top button of his white shirt was undone, which Gwen interpreted to mean that this man had been working hard getting prepared for Fisk's arrival this morning and was now a bit worn out, though his face seemed to relax a bit upon seeing Fisk finally arrive.

Stepping over to them, the man placed his hands on his hips and looked Fisk over before he said, "So, you're finally here. Not gonna lie, we were starting to get worried that you weren't going to show."

Averting his eyes from the man, Fisk said, "Yes, I'm sorry we were late. We had a slight miscommunication-"

The man put up a hand to stop Fisk there and said, "No, I don't need your whole life story, convict."

Looking insulted at that term, Wesley corrected, "My employer is no longer a convict. He's served his sentence-"

"Maybe not as much as he deserved," the man cut Wesley off this time. Wesley opened his mouth to speak more at that, but then just closed it once again and gave a rather insincere smile, prompting the man in front of them to look at Fisk again and ask, "Are you going to wear that tonight?"

Looking down at himself in his prison jumpsuit, Fisk answered, "No, I'm not. My clothes?"

"Upstairs," the man said with a gesture of his head towards the upper levels of the building. "And after you get changed, you'll need to stay up in your quarters until we're finished getting set up."

Fisk nodded his head in acceptance and said, "Thank you," as he began to walk towards the spiral staircase to head upstairs, followed by Wesley.

The man in charge watched them go and kept his eyes forward as he ordered, "DeLancey, Martin, go with him. Stand outside while he changes and wait for a shift change."

Immediately, two men that had been standing motionlessly on the ground floor moved to follow after Fisk, and the man who'd given them their orders looked up at Gwen and Louise and said, "So you're the PDNY watchers? Good job getting Fisk here in one piece."

Curious as to why he said that, Gwen asked, "Why? Are we expecting a threat?"

Shaking his head, the man responded, "No. I just doubt I could've done it without killing him. Guys like Fisk, they're better off staying behind bars if you ask me."

"Even that is mercy for many of his kind," Louise added.

Smirking, the man said, "Yeah, I totally get that." He then shook his head and backtracked, "Sorry, I forgot introductions. Special Agent in Charge Ben Poindexter, FBI."

Pointing to Gwen then herself, Louise said, "Officer Gwen Stacy and Officer Louise Cadieux."

Nodding in greeting, the newly-introduced Ben turned and began to walk back towards the center of the building while he said, "Well, let me show you what we're working with. Knowing that Mr. Fisk may not be too popular with certain friends and/or enemies of the Kingpin, The Tycoon has been secured against numerous predictable threats. All exterior windows are bulletproof and the FBI's set up a 24-hour watch. All of them report to me, but you two will stay in direct contact with me and report only to your own precinct. We have access to all live feeds from around the club and our department's installed an additional eight cameras around the inside and outside of the building, everywhere except inside Fisk's bedroom. Also, Fisk doesn't know this part, but we've installed tracking devices inside the lining of all of his day clothes, so we'll always be able to keep track of his location, even if we somehow lost visual. I recommended that we should put some audio receptors in there as well, but that blasted Fourteenth Amendment got in the way."

Gwen and Louise laughed at the joke, and Ben stopped in place and turned to smile at them as he continued, "Anyway, the layout of the building. There's four floors. This one's Level 0. It's where most of the club's customers should be found. Below us is Sublevel 1, where the club's extra stock is kept. No one's allowed down there except the club's workers, who have all been notified that they're now required to have a keycard to go down there, and there's a guard on the door at all times. Above us is Level 1, the lounge, which can only be accessed by the spiral staircase or the emergency stairwell in the back. Above that is Level 2, which can only be accessed by a private elevator and is solely for private affairs involving Mr. Fisk. His bedroom and office are up there and so are our security control rooms. And that's about it. Any questions?"

Gwen shook her head, thinking she had all the information she needed, but Louise said, "I have one. How are we handling security during the club's business hours?"

"Simple," Ben answered easily. "We put a few guards on watch, keep our eyes on the entrances, and mostly protect Level 2. If a problem pops up, we have all teams converge to protect the target and take care of the issue. For tonight's party, we're going to have all hands on deck to deal with the crowds. You two will be on the entrances while me and my men have stations, keeping an eye on Fisk. And we'll be blending in with the crowd, so civilian-wear only. Or better yet, something fancy, just not police uniforms."

Looking down at her PDNY-issued uniform, Gwen shrugged to herself and said, "Yeah, alright. I'm not sure dark blue is my color anyway."

"Well, it's my favorite," Ben responded with a grin.

Smirking, Gwen turned and began to walk back towards the exit so she and Louise could get back to the precinct so they could go home and get changed before the party tonight. She got the feeling that Ben was trying to be charming, but while Gwen couldn't deny that he was a good-looking guy, he wasn't exactly her type.

Line Break

Miles POV

Soon after the doors to the club known as The Tycoon opened to begin welcoming visitors, Miles proceeded to duck around the side of the building and mentally ordered his mask onto his face before he jumped up and ran straight up the side of the wall before he flipped himself in through a window on the second floor. He landed in a low crouch just out of sight of all of the building's cameras and waited for a few seconds before a voice in his ear told him, "No alarms sounded. The timing was good. You're clear."

Standing up, Miles' mask unfolded from his face as the lights in his shoes faded to black and he smoothed down the front of his black suit as he questioned, "And Fisk?"

"The Feds are keeping him upstairs for now," Phin's voice notified him. "I guess you get to go socialize."

Sighing in annoyance, Miles nonetheless willed a winning smile onto his face as he stepped out of his secluded corner and began to join in with the crowd that was slowly growing on the second floor of Fisk's club. Some people that he passed recognized him and tried to strike up a conversation with him, but Miles did his best to stay focused and get rid of them as soon as possible. A few others had their eyes drawn to Miles' expensive attire, gazes which made him feel uncomfortable and made him even more eager to get away from all of Fisk's guests.

As he went, Miles' right eye was subconsciously scanning the faces of the people he was passing, running a facial recognition program to try to see how many of them were secretly criminals that Miles may be able to question or at least target for his own amusement later, but surprisingly, very few of the people here had anything worse than a few speeding tickets on their police records. Not that that meant Fisk was being honest about his desire to separate himself from criminals. Rather, it was doubtless just another part of Fisk's grand illusion to make himself seem better than he really was. Or at least, that's how Miles figured it.

Finally sitting himself down in a cushy single armchair in the corner overlooking the dance floor below, where he could keep an eye on almost everyone in the lounge as well as those on the ground level, Miles looked around and waited impatiently for his target to enter the room, shifting uncomfortably in his seat as he kept his eyes low but his senses extended to avoid attention as he discreetly monitored the room.

However, after a few moments, Miles noticed something that disturbed him and asked quietly, "Mason, where's the security detail?"

He knew that Fisk was supposed to be under watch from his parole officers, the FBI and… others, but looking around the room, he didn't see anyone who really stood out as part of that group.

He could hear his right eye whirring lowly in its socket as Phin looked through the footage of what he was seeing, and then she responded, "You're right, this place is too clean. The guards must be blending in."

Hearing that and knowing that it would make things potentially troublesome, Miles quietly cursed and said, "I used the Guardian to access files on Fisk's release earlier today, they should still be pulled up on my computer. Find out who his keepers are and upload them to my facial recognition."

Miles could hear Phin in his earpiece rolling her chair across the floor, going to his desk to follow his orders, and a few seconds later he felt a slightly painful twitch behind his eye as it began to remotely receive information. A moment later, Miles slowly looked around the room and gave his eye a chance to recognize and mark the positions of all of the law enforcement officers inside the room, along with showing him their names and ranks.

Once that was done, Miles nodded in satisfaction and began to return his attention to watching for Fisk, but then he heard Phin say over his comm, "Wait, Miles… The PDNY's assigned cops-"

Already knowing where this was going, Miles' expression darkened and he cut her off, "I know. But she's on the front door and I'm not staying long. She's not going to see me."

There was a brief silence, then Phin began to say, "Miles-"

"Start tracking the guards' fields of view," Miles interrupted her again, not wanting to continue this conversation.

Thankfully, Phin didn't try to argue or push the matter, and as she worked on doing as Miles had told her, the voice of the DJ down below him suddenly spoke over the microphone, saying, "Alright, alright! Everybody, quiet down and get ready to put your hands together for the man you all came here to welcome back to our city! I give you… Wilson Fisk!"

Miles had a bit more than a warm welcome in mind, but the DJ was right in that Fisk was the one he'd come here for, so he stood up from his seat and joined the rest of the crowd in clapping loudly as the elevator doors behind the upstairs bar opened to reveal Wilson Fisk, looking exactly as Miles remembered him from years back; Big, bald, and wearing a crisp white suit, Fisk emerged from the elevator and smiled widely as he began to wave to his adoring crowd, most of whom probably had no idea what kind of monster they were all cheering for.

What did they care if Fisk had been in prison for the last three years and deserved a lifetime longer? What did they care about how many people had died because of Fisk and his son, and how much trouble Miles had gone to trying to put him away? How much he'd sacrificed fighting Fisk's kind? All they cared about was a night of fun with free booze.

But despite these thoughts raging through Miles' mind, he didn't make a move as Fisk stepped up through the crowd to stand on top of the spiral staircase leading down to the lower level and accepted a microphone that was offered to him by a man with curly hair and glasses. Fisk nodded to the man appreciatively, then looked out at the crowd below and held the microphone up to his mouth as he said, "Thank you, all of you, for coming here tonight! This night, my first one in years as a free man, it's one I've looked forward to for… a long time. And having you all here to celebrate it with me makes it far more memorable! So you've done me a service by attending my homecoming party, and I'd like to return the favor. So eat, drink, be merry, all on the house! For tonight, I'm feeling more free than I have in a long time… and I'd like you to share that feeling!"

As Fisk concluded his short speech, and handed off the microphone, his audience roared with approval and began to swarm near the bottom of the stairs, where Fisk began descending to join them and no doubt deliver more fake expressions of gratitude.

Disappointed to see him go (for once), Miles watched Fisk descend onto the ground floor as Phin spoke in his ear, saying, "Well, that didn't go as hoped."

Looking towards the elevator that Fisk had arrived in, Miles asked, "What's upstairs?"

"Closed-off rooms, accessible only by that elevator, including Fisk's bedroom," Phin answered. "But it's going to be closely monitored by the FBI."

"They can't go in his bedroom while he sleeps, though," Miles noted. "What are the walls made of?"

"Exterior is steel-reinforced drywall, but even if you broke in, it wouldn't buy you enough time to ask him the questions you have."

Tilting his head in thought, Miles proposed, "Unless I borrowed him."

"Yeah, maybe not. Fisk's still a federally-protected person of interest," Phin reminded him. "If you really want to question him, this is the best place to do it."

Looking down at Fisk, surrounded by his admirers, Miles argued, "But he's too well protected right now. It'll be some time before he's out of the spotlight, and I don't have that kind of time. And even if I could get his attention, the FBI aren't going to take their eyes off him."

"That just means they're distracted," Phin pointed out. "Try to locate an easier target."

Miles looked around, trying to find something or someone relatively close to Fisk that might be able to give him some answers, and finally his gaze landed on the man who had given Fisk the microphone, who was now sitting down at the second floor's bar, not getting a drink but simply watching Fisk down below just as Miles was. "There. Who's that?"

He gave Phin a few seconds to figure it out, and she soon answered, "Uh, James Wesley. Says here that he's employed by Fisk, but it's unclear what his job is exactly. But apparently he's the one who checked Fisk out of Ryker's this morning."

"That'll work," Miles said confidently as he walked over to the bar and sat down on the stool next to Wesley, ignoring the way that the older man gave him a distasteful sideways look, clearly not having desired company at the moment. Getting the bartender's attention, Miles silently ordered himself a glass of ginger ale, which he took before turning around to face the same direction as Fisk's assistant while they both looked down at his boss.

Miles waited for several moments in silence, then finally commented, "Strange, isn't it? This guy got accused of helping to just about destroy the city. But three years later, that same city is welcoming him back."

True to Miles' predictions, Wesley seemed to become defensive at his words and had no choice but to engage in the conversation, softly saying, "Well, it's not for nothing. Mr. Fisk was birthed by this city and gave it everything he had for years before he was put away. He loves the city, shouldn't it be allowed to love him back?"

Shrugging, Miles responded, "Maybe. But if half of his money helps the city and the other half goes towards killing it, how much good is he really doing?"

Looking at Miles with a professional smile, Wesley said, "I assume you're referring to Matt Murdock. A man who's no longer in the picture, in no small part due to the efforts of my employer in helping to put him away."

Acting surprised, Miles asked, "You work for Fisk?"

Holding out a hand and still maintaining his smile, Wesley introduced himself, "Wesley. I'm Mr. Fisk's personal assistant."

Reaching out to shake Wesley's hand, Miles returned, "Miles Morales."

His eyes widening in recognition, Wesley noted, "Seraph Tech."

Nodding, Miles smiled and said, "I didn't want to assume…"

"No, no, of course I've heard of Seraph," Wesley said. "You've been climbing the corporate ladder faster than almost anyone in history."

"Not by myself," Miles said with a grin. "My uncle set aside the original funds for the company before he passed. And government contracts for dealing with supervillains definitely helped. So did the decline of Stark Industries."

"Okay, but correct me if I'm wrong, I thought I'd heard that you were a bit more reclusive than Tony Stark was?" Wesley asked curiously.

Taking a sip from his drink, Miles shrugged and answered, "I can be multiple things. Everyone needs to get out sometimes, but I'm certainly no Stark. I don't care much for the spotlight, and being who I am, it can be difficult to avoid it when I go out in public."

Nodding wisely, Wesley hummed and said, "I know what you mean. My employer is the same way."

Quietly scoffing, Miles looked down and asked, "Really? He seems to be doing alright in the spotlight tonight."

"Only for a short time," came a familiar voice from right in front of Miles and Wesley, and they both looked up to see Fisk himself striding towards them.

His free hand subconsciously clenching into a fist at the sight of him, Miles' eyes narrowed and he stood up as Fisk arrived in front of him. He wasn't quite sure why, maybe some sort of instinctive desire to punch the man, though this would be a terrible time and place to do it, but fortunately Fisk didn't give him the chance to attack as the older man simply held out a hand to Miles and greeted, "I see you've met my assistant. Wilson."

Looking down at Fisk's hand for a moment, Miles finally took it and looked Fisk in the eye as said, "Yeah, so I've heard," perfectly aware that Fisk already knew exactly who he was talking to just as well as Miles did.

Fisk was silent for a moment, then commented, "You have quite the grip there, Mr. Morales."

Looking down to see that he was still holding tightly onto Fisk's hand and was unknowingly trying to crush it in his grip, Miles quickly released him, remembering that he had a mission here and couldn't afford to draw attention to himself, and quickly excused himself, "Yes, sorry about that. I suppose I've just been… anxious to see you for some time now."

Fisk looked deep into his eyes and nodded in understanding, then turned to Wesley and told him, "Please excuse us for a moment."

Wesley looked at Miles warily, but said nothing as he stood up and buttoned up his suit coat as he walked away to sit in another seat far enough away that he wouldn't be able to overhear them, and Miles' trained senses noticed the bartender also moving away from them without needing to be asked, though he didn't comment on it.

Fisk stepped forward and sat down on the stool that Wesley had been seated on a moment before, facing the counter and prompting Miles to spin around so he could do the same. Fisk then leaned forward and reached under the counter to grab himself a small glass and a bottle of some sort of liquor, some of which he then poured into his glass and took a sip before he said quietly, "I knew you would come see me soon enough, Mr. Morales. I'm glad you sought me out so soon. We have much to talk about, and a place as crowded and loud as this is perfect for a private discussion."

Well, it may be loud and crowded, but Miles also knew that the FBI and… other concerned parties were watching Fisk closely, and it was only a matter of time now until he himself became a person of interest for spending too much time speaking to Fisk. He would have to do this quickly.

"What's your game here, Fisk?" Miles asked, keeping his head low and his voice lower, but just loud enough that he knew Fisk would be able to hear it.

"Game?" Fisk asked, sounding affronted. "Mr. Morales, in case you've forgotten, I helped you stop that… unpleasantness three years ago."

"As if I needed any help at that point," Miles shot back.

Frowning, Fisk inclined his head and said, "But you did have help, other than myself, didn't you? Yet you certainly seem alone now. Did you have a little spat with Miss-?"

"I'm here to talk about you, not me, Fisk," Miles warned the larger man, intentionally setting aside Fisk's meaningless words so he could speed up their conversation as much as possible.

"But I'm here to talk about both of us, Mr. Morales," Fisk pointed out, making Miles look at him curiously. "From what I've heard, you've done yourself quite well in the last few years. Started your own company, the only one that's been able to build effective countermeasures for superpowered threats. Created the new designs for the Raft so the supervillains could stay in New York, keeping the problem local… and under your watch, I'm sure. Working with the city, the state, the country itself. Even international, when the supervillains started getting smart enough to try getting out of your reach. Not that they lasted long anywhere. After all, your business is not the only thing that's been successful, is it? I believe I heard something about New Jersey from within the walls of Ryker's-"

"Don't mess with me, Fisk, the whole world's been hearing about it for over a year," Miles cut him off impatiently, knowing that his time was starting to wear extremely thin. "Now what does this have to do with what you're up to?"

"I think you're forgetting, Mr. Morales, that the one I used to proudly call my son was the criminal mastermind, not me," Fisk said, and Miles opened his mouth to argue but Fisk carried on, "And unlike me, Matt Murdock has been granted no opportunity for appeal, and he never will. Once, he was perhaps the world's greatest lawyer, but even he could not talk his way out of the hole he dug for himself. Now, he's spending the rest of his life in a cell for his crimes, and I intend to do everything in my power to keep myself from ending up back in there with him."

"Do you have a point here, Fisk?" Miles questioned with annoyance.

"My point is that I'm going back into the business I was trying to do prior to my admittedly well-deserved incarceration," Fisk finally began to explain.

"Terrorism?" Miles asked.

"Improving the city I love," Fisk corrected. "I once had dreams for this city. Big plans left unrealized. Once, I thought Matt Murdock shared those same dreams… But as it turned out, his goals were something else entirely. What that was, I still can't say for certain. But I intend to return to my old work… And I think you can help me."

After hearing that, Miles just blankly stared at Fisk for a moment before he shook his head and said, "I'm sorry, I must have blacked out for a minute there. You think I can what?"

"You heard me correctly, Mr. Morales," Fisk assured him. "I think we can help one another. We're both in the business of helping this great city to realize its full potential, and you possess all the attributes I once appreciated in my former son. You're resourceful, clever, adaptable, and have grand aspirations. And best of all, in recent years, you've also developed a ruthless determination to achieve the things you've set your mind to. You've become an accomplisher. Everything I value in a partner with none of the less savory attributes possessed by a self-serving character like Matthew Murdock."

Leaning his elbow on the table as he faced Fisk fully now, Miles opened his mouth to tell him something rather… unkind, but then he noticed movement out the corner of his eye. By the front door, he saw a stunning and familiar bright yellow dress with an even more familiar wave of shoulder-length blond hair above it as a head turned to look up towards the second floor at where Fisk was sitting. Alarms immediately going off in Miles' mind, he quickly turned to face the bar once again, silently praying that he hadn't been seen, but at the same time knowing better than to assume such a thing.

Knowing that his time here had certainly expired by now, Miles quickly told Fisk what he wanted to hear, saying, "Yeah, I'll… I'll consider your offer. But I just remembered that I have somewhere to be."

Smiling in such a way that Miles got the sense that he knew exactly what had distressed him, Fisk calmly said, "Excellent. I'm glad we could put the past aside and find some common ground, Mr. Morales. I look forward to working with you."

Quickly standing up from his seat without a proper farewell, Miles began to walk away from the area while absently muttering to himself, "Yeah, I look forward to… doing things with you too."

His thinly-veiled threat went unheard, however, as Miles began quickly walking towards the same window that he'd entered through. Before he could reach it, though, the head of the very person he was trying to avoid entered Miles' view, quickly climbing up the spiral staircase between him and the window, looking around and trying to see over the heads of the crowd.

Fortunately, she hadn't located him yet, but not trusting that luck to hold especially if he tried getting closer, Miles quickly about-faced and used his eye to quickly scan for an alternative exit, quickly finding one in a secondary staircase in the back of the building, probably some sort of emergency exit or staff backroom, judging by the number of Tycoon employees he could see through the walls rushing up and down the stairs carrying their full or empty trays to serve guests.

Quickly thinking up a plan, Miles grabbed two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and speed-walked over by the secondary stairwell before opening the door and beginning to descend. When he passed a rushing waiter on the stairs, Miles simply held up the two drinks in his hands and nodded in silent explanation to the man, acting as though he was definitely supposed to be here and not even needing to fake the fact that he too was in a hurry, letting the waiter interpret the nod however he wanted, and sure enough, the man didn't try to stop him.

Within seconds, Miles had reached the ground floor and began walking in a straight line towards the building's exit, putting his two glasses of champagne on a nearby table as he passed it.

As he reached the door, however, Miles still didn't consider himself safe, and after he'd pushed his way out of the building, he quietly asked, "Mason?"

Immediately, Phin's voice responded, "Oh, am I back in? Sorry, I went to grab a snack-"

"Mason, access my mask's programs and start up the one labeled 'Psyche Protocol', and fast," Miles quickly cut her off.

He could hear the sounds of Phin quickly trying to follow the new order as she asked, "Oh, are you in a fight? Are you in danger?"

"I'm about to be," Miles responded cryptically, placing his hands in his pockets as he casually but swiftly began to exit the area, trying to get into the nearest alleyway. He just barely managed to make it inside before he heard the sound of heel-wearing footsteps following behind him, and he immediately opened the program that appeared on his eye's AR head's up display in the form of a logo featuring an arrow piercing a heart.

Then, with a dead end in front of him, he turned to face the open end of the alley and willed his mask on over his face as he stood completely still and silent. A moment later, the figure he'd known was following him appeared at the mouth of the alley, her dark silhouette looking as lovely as ever even as the lights behind her barely lit up her face whatsoever, and Gwen Stacy looked at Miles inquisitively. Taking a few cautious steps forward, Gwen began to slowly approach Miles while he refused to budge in the slightest.

Gwen darted her eyes about warily as she got closer to him, as though expecting some kind of trap or trick, but Miles still barely even breathed despite how hard his heart was pounding in his chest. Finally, when Gwen stood only a couple feet away from Miles, close enough that he could feel her deep, ragged breaths hitting him, she stopped as a small, nearly invisible microphone on her ear beeped at her and a woman's voice asked, "Gwen? Where are you?"

Sighing in disappointment, Gwen reached up and touched the device as she responded, "I'm right outside, I'm on my way back now. I just… thought I saw something."

As she said that last part, Gwen looked around one more time, then cast her eyes down sadly and turned around before walking out of the alley and back towards The Tycoon.

Finally allowing himself to breathe, Miles relaxed his body and willed his mask off of his face, also taking down the projected brick wall it had been creating in front of him as he did so, but then he heard Phin's voice say quietly, "Miles… that was cruel."

Looking down with some agreeing shame but also a steely determination, Miles argued, "No. That was mercy."

There was a brief silence, then Phin began to say, "Miles-", but Miles cut her off as he began to leave the alley and said, "We'll talk when I get back. About Fisk. And the mission. But I'm staying out tonight, so get some sleep while you can."

Phin sighed in exasperation but gave in and said, "Alright. See you tomorrow."

As Phin disconnected the comms system, Miles still made sure to turn off his eye's video broadcasting before he rewinded the footage it had just taken until he could once again see Gwen's pain-filled expression as he walked down the street, his own face automatically shifting to match it as he stared at it, then took a deep breath as he removed the image from his view and disciplined his face into something more neutral, though the feelings still remained, making Miles narrow his eyes in forced focus. It was about to be a very bad night to be a criminal in New York City.

A/N: I own no rights to the singer P!nk or any of her music, including "Who Knew", but I heard the song in my own car while I was in the process of writing this chapter and it was just so perfect for the story, I had to include it. Even the "three years" thing was just right, so I really had no choice but to take advantage of my own personal literary Goldilocks. So if anyone has a problem with that little moment, please address all complaints to Euterpe and Calliope. Anyway, leave a comment if you enjoyed and thanks for reading!