The sound of an alarm blaring jars me awake. I'm disoriented as to where I am, and why everything is so painfully loud and blindingly bright.
Groaning in annoyance I swing my arm over to my nightstand and slap the alarm. I miss the snooze button, and start feeling around the offending machine. The longer it takes me to find the off switch the more my head pounds in aggravation, the pain of my apparent hangover worsening with each infernal beep.
I have half a mind to give up and throw the damned thing across the room, but when I peel my left eye open to peak at the fucking thing, I realize why I was fumbling so much.
"Oh no."
I try to force my eyes open and clear my vision but the room is slightly dark and my eyes refuse to adjust with out aid. Raising my hands I wipe the sleep from my eyes and my vision is somewhat better, although my headache and lack of memories tells me I did something bad the night before.
Looking around, I can now see that the sun is rising, and that I'm in somebody's apartment. One that I am not familiar with. Either a flamboyant gay guy or a woman lives here. The curtains are black out curtains, but slightly parted open allowing the ever growing daylight to seep through. The walls are purple, with some paintings that I only recognize due to Cindy's secondary love of art. The carpet is white, and if the bed and room size were anything to go by, probably just as extravagant. The canopy bed has silk sheets and sheer curtains that surround it and in said King Sized bed, lays a woman soundly sleeping next to me.
The first thing I notice is the platinum-blonde hair, but quickly my eyes roam down her body, for it is only partially covered by the sheets. She is definitely naked, as indicated by her smooth leg being exposed and her cleavage barely being contained by the sheet that is lazily wrapped around her top half. I could see basically everything else save what's between her legs.
I would be lying if I didn't say there was a small part of me that wasn't tempted to just ravish her, wake her up and have some naked fun. But the idea that I just betrayed the love of my life for a quick fling with some beauty I don't even remember meeting made me feel sick. The still blaring alarm was slowly tuned out for a white static that was briefly replaced by my ever quickening heart-beat, drumming in my ears. A mix of arousal and panicked guilt causing it's increase in tempo.
Lifting the covers I find that I am naked save for my boxer briefs, and I wonder if I really had the wherewithal to put those back on after sex the night before. If I was black out I highly doubt it. Though, I could have kept them on and just slipped my member out, so there's no telling... well actually.
Reaching into my underwear, I feel my penis to see if it's got the tell tale signs of having sex the night before. Both my boxers and my dick seem pretty dry, which makes me wonder if we had intended on having an affair, but I was too drunk to get it up. Maybe I some how managed to reject her advances, assuming there were any.
Of course there was. She's naked.
"Naughty boy. Playing with yourself when I'm right here." I freeze in place, almost too worried to look over at the woman next to me as her sultry and suggestive tone floats through my ear canal, and seemingly travelling through an empty space. Though I was attracted to her and tempted to do something about it, I didn't feel myself truly stiffen until she spoke.
"What?! That's not... I'm checking to see.." Her hand reaches out and grabs my chin, forcing me to look at her. She had moved her arm enough now that her sheet was almost completely off of her. Simply because she was laying mostly on her stomach when I woke up, I am only capable of seeing her sides, and a little of her abs, but the bunched up sheet near her breasts kept them mostly covered. Her areola was barely visible. I gulp a little too loudly, and she giggles at me.
"I would say eyes up here, but I do love the look you are giving me right now." Embarrassment at being caught while staring makes me flush with heat, and I could feel myself entering fight or flight. 'Fight' meaning something different to how it's normally interpreted.
Moving my head up to look directly at her, I take note of how her playfulness is accentuated by her sultry smile, but barely contains the predatory look in her eyes. I wasn't sure if I was sexual prey, or if she had other motives.
"Fancy place you got here." Deflection is apparently the route I've decided to take. She shakes her head and puts a perfectly manicured fingernail to her teeth. Her grin remaining ever present.
A cute laugh escapes her lips and she starts to move, threatening to reveal more to me. I love my girlfriend, but by Thor was I finding it difficult to look away. Thankfully, Cindy's sorrowful look at finding out I cheated on her is the straw that broke the camel's back, and drove my head towards the window.
"So bashful when sober. You weren't this shy last night." Clearly ignoring my attempt to change gears, her suggestion about last night is followed by her pressing her very naked breasts against my very naked back, and breathing her warm breath in my ear. I swear I can hear purring.
"Stop." She laughed quietly as she rubbed her nose into my ear, which caused me to pull away.
I nearly tear the sheer curtains off the bed as I remarkably remove the tangle of sheets from my body and hop out of her bed, searching for my clothes.
"You're no fun. Wouldn't let the kitten play with her toy during the briefing, and no matter how drunk we got last night, you refused to cheat on your girlfriend..." I stop dead as I'm grabbing my shirt, and contemplate what she just said to me. So I didn't cheat on Cindy-Cane. Thank fucking Odin for that one. Or whoever. Hold a moment.
"The briefing?" I turn around to search her face for the truth, and I regret my decision as she was now sitting on the bed, her legs crossed and to the side while she leaned back in a models pose, leaving her perky breasts sticking out, barely effected by gravity. I'm pretty sure she's close to my age, and I'm certain I've seen her before now that she mentions it. God her musculature added to her shape... it's like she was created by some god of sex and love, like Aphrodite or something like that, but definitely looked like she was athletic enough to do cartwheels around the average person.
Who is she?
"Oh? Last night you figured it out. Thought you would have remembered that part at least. You weren't even that hammered at that point." Now I am looking at her eyes. What is she getting at?
"I'm trying to remember last night, but... I just remember heading to the bar and... nothing." She sighs and lets her head lull backwards, making me think about how she would look while screaming in ecstasy. I shake my head and turn away. I've never been tempted like this before. What the hell is going on with me?
I hear shuffling behind me and I decide to continue my search for my clothes. Putting on my t-shirt, I locate one of my shoes and both my socks, but still no pants.
"So you did get a concussion then. I should have been more careful with you yesterday." I growl in frustration. Of course that's what this splitting headache is. It explains why I've felt like losing the contents of my stomach more than once too. I haven't puked from drinking in a long time, so it was either alcohol poisoning or a concussion. I was just hoping it was the former.
"Did I fall?"
"No. You were very chivalrous actually." I feel a tap on my shoulders and I turn, slowly, ready to look away in case she was trying something, but was glad to see she was now wearing a short, silk, robe, with the strap being tied firmly around her waist. Her body is covered, but her legs are still mostly exposed. I know that if she bent over while facing away from me I'd see everything.
"So I got into a fight then." I wasn't asking. Looking at my knuckles, I can see that I had definitely been throwing punches the night before. She nods in confirmation and I sigh. "Sorry you had to-"
"Shut up. You said that last night and I was more than happy to watch a bunch of perverts get their asses handed to them by one man. And a man you were. I was hoping I could reward you for your chivalry, but apparently you and your girlfriend don't really share each other, unless you are both interested in sharing a third wheel together. How unfortunate that she's out of town. Still, have to respect your commitment to her. Most men fall over themselves at a chance like you had last night." Part of me felt a tinge of loss, but it's nothing compared to the loss I'd feel if I were to fuck up my relationship with Cindy for not being able to contain myself while she's out of town.
"I really got chatty with you last night, Miss...?"
"Felicia Hardy. Remember it this time. You only get the pass because of the head injury and excessive drinking we did."
"Fair. And... thank you for not taking advantage of me." She scowls at me, her sexual persona being dropped and something real now being shown for a brief moment.
"Just because I want to mount you, even now, doesn't mean I'm going to be a disgusting monster about it." Disdain doesn't cover the disgust this woman felt while saying those words. The venom in those words. Of course, she is a very attractive woman. I'm sure she's been harassed before. Possibly even... well, best to be respectful about the subject.
"Then it appears that we both succeeded in being good people last night, albeit a bit degenerative in our drinking." Her scowl faded a bit and a small smile graced her lips as she tilted her head down and looked up at me.
"Well, we'll have even more fun tonight." I take a step back, unsure of her meaning. "Still unsure of my intentions? Well, the fun I'm speaking of is at Oscorp tonight." My eyes form a hard narrow stare. How the hell does she know about that?
"I don't know what you're talking about. And neither do you apparently, if you know what's good for you." The woman's smirk shifts slightly and her eyes read danger. My instincts tell me I need to run for cover, which I barely manage to do as Felicia swipes at me.
I duck my head under a clawed hand. She clearly had those nails grown out for a reason, and it's as I make the connection to her feral swiping that I realize what she's talking about.
"Black Cat?" I drop my pants and boots as block a low kick and grab her wrist as she tries to strike me again. I spin her around and bend her over her bed, pressing her captured arm against her back. I can't take any chances. If she's actually Black Cat, then I could be in real trouble if I let her get any hits in. Besides I have a concussion, and this wasn't helping my headache.
"Get off of me!" Gone was the bravado and Cheshire smile. Replaced with a sudden fearful anger that I recognize all too well.
"Okay. I'm sorry. I just can't afford to be hit in the head anymore today." Letting go of her arm, I quickly step back to hopefully avoid any further provocation. She quickly spins around and puts a guard up. There was a wild look in her eye, like she was reliving a nightmare right in front of me. "I'm not going to hurt you, Felicia. I-"
"Not like you could, Champ."
"I'm pretty sure that being a professional thief isn't the same as a professional fighter. And that's not even what I meant."
"I know what you meant. I'll tell you right now, if you were to try it, I'd kill you. You wouldn't be the first pig I've..." Felicia's seething fades as she seems to remember something. A distant memory that judging by the look on her face, was rather unpleasant, and causes her inner turmoil.
"You aren't a killer. You're clearly a decent, if not great fighter. Still, you aren't... well-"
"I'm not like you? Is that it?"
"You're not a warrior. You may fight when necessary, but you don't seek it out the way people like me do. You don't crave it, whether you like it or not." She flashes a look of disbelief, mixed in with her scornful frown. I am just as surprised at how much I was admitting to. Concussions are a bitch when it comes to mental faculties. "I don't think I should be at that gig tonight. This concussion has fucked me over."
"Right." A silence falls over us, and Felicia and I keep our eyes locked. I see so much now, but whatever she was masking before is mixing together and making her hard to read. The only thing I can pick up is something along the lines of intrigue and sadness. I could guess she was interested in what I just said, but the latter was a mystery to me.
"I should get going." I put on the rest of my clothes, checking to see if I have all of my belongings, which by some miracle I did, and start to head for what I assumed is the exit.
"I know what it's like." Her words stop me in my tracks and I wonder what she's referring to. I don't need to ask her to clarify however as she continues talking. "You're right. More often then not, the thrill I seek is in what I'm known for. Being able to get in and out of basically anywhere in the world, acquiring whatever I want, for the fun of it. But... I've sought to let things out violently before." She stops again, seemingly finished with her side of the confession. I nod my head in understanding before responding.
"Did it pan out the way you hoped it would?" Felicia looks me dead in the eye for a moment. Clearly the answer was a resounding 'No', but she gave me a mirthless laugh before responding.
"Well, he ended up dead. I had nothing to do with it."
"Ah. That must have been disappointing."
"Am I wrong for being mixed up about that?"
"I don't think so. You're only human. We all have our dark urges from time to time. Some of us are scared by them, others relish the thought for a short period, and so long as we don't act on them they don't become habits. People like Lester however, and I'm guessing Creed and Daken fall into this category as well, are monsters. Twisted by their rage and hatred, or even a lack of emotion all together. Though the former is what I'd peg all three of them on." Felicia looks down and thinks for a moment, her sad look still on full display.
"Which are you?" The Cat Burglar looks up at me and seems to be searching me for answers. Answers beyond the question she's asked me. I sigh as I think about it, rubbing my forehead while placing my other hand on my hip.
"Depends on the day I'm having." She seems somewhat disappointed with this answer, but it's the best I've got at the moment. Eventually she nods and walks towards the door, opening it for me.
"Well... if you do show up tonight, I'll watch your back, if you watch mine." I nod in agreement. From there we say our goodbyes, and I begin to head home.
Felicia Hardy apparently lives in a posh, hotel suite apartment in the Upper-East Side. Of course she can afford it, with the fortune she's made through her exploits as a cat burglar. Correction. The Cat Burglar. Not only is she an infamous thief, but she's also a master at seduction and manipulation. I'm sure most men would have caved, even married, to a woman like her. Honestly, couldn't blame them either. She's definitely one of a kind. Sure, you look at her and don't know who she is, and maybe she's just another baddie that's too used to getting what she wants. The fact that she's the Black Cat, tells me she's actually capable of putting some work in. Likely unafraid to chip a nail. I'm pretty sure she doesn't even have a death count on her, unlike Toomes, Lester, and I'm certain is nothing like Daken and Creed.
I groan at the thought of working with a bunch of madmen and murderers as the light of morning and the bustling city become rusty nails on a chalkboard. Not having very much money left, and wanting to avoid the trains, I forgo a taxi and decide to walk and use the bus system. The entire time trekking home my head feels like it's cracking open. I grit through the pain as my thoughts wander to the path I've taken to try and get out of the rut Cindy and I have been stuck in.
I've broken a promise to one of the two most important people in my life. I broke that promise to try and keep another one. The most important one. I will keep her safe, happy, and healthy. In whichever order that comes in. However, this gig is dangerous. I'm working with a bunch of lunatics, and I am now nursing a concussion. If I manage to make it out alive, I'll likely be thrown in jail. That's even without the consideration that a nobody like me is likely going to be a patsy.
I may be a meathead in terms of thinking like a fighter, but one thing Chameleon is right about is that I can be very perceptive. It helps that I used to run with a bunch of criminals in my early youth. Even having family in the life of crime. Most of them were just thugs, but some were true masterminds. I haven't kept in touch with any of them really, but I know that if they are alive today, they are kingpins some where. Maybe even white collar crime types. And because of these past relationships, I'm well aware of the treachery I'm likely to face from anybody in this crew, from Chameleon, and from whoever his employers are.
Problem is I'm still not backing out. When Felicia mentioned the fight, and my clear signs of a concussion, along with the dangers of the job and the people I'm working with, none of it dissuaded me. I can't pass up the mere chance that I'm not a patsy, or that I can somehow turn things to my favour, and use it as a way to negotiate. I don't need more than the millions they already offered. I don't need to be so filthy rich that I can wear a high-tech suit and be apart of some super hero team. I just need to stop struggling. I need for Cindy to be capable of relaxing, and working on the things she loves without the stress of when we'll eat next or if we'll keep the roof over our heads. I would like the same for myself. I want us to be able to live, rather then just survive.
So I'm going to be doing this job tonight. Yeah. I am truly a fool.
My thoughts were interrupted by a text notification. Pulling out my phone, I see that Cindy was messaging me quite a bit the night before, and this morning. I also had several missed calls. I was supposed to call her and say goodnight. Why wouldn't I have answered any of these? Even drunk I should have... Oh that bitch.
Felicia. I bet the millions from this job that she took my phone from me at some point and turned it off or something. Master thief, not unlikely she didn't even need to ask me for it. Pick pocketing me would have made it easy.
Judging from the messages, Cindy was feeling a mixture of concern, frustration, and sadness. We don't necessarily have separation anxiety, but we like to check in with each other, just to make sure we're both safe. It's a left over habit from my criminal days, and when she still lived with her abusive folks. If I felt guilty about anything, it was the worry I was causing her and the lying I was doing.
Thomas: Hey, Cindy-Cane. I'm so sorry for missing you last night my love. Delilah was bartending last night, and you know how she is about getting everybody on shift drunk off their ass.
After work, a small group of us took some of the damaged beer back to Joseph's place and we had a small shindig.
Got pretty messed up.
I put my phone down in the bathroom and forgot it there for most of the night. I crashed on Joseph's couch and just woke up a few minutes ago.
I'm on my way home to shower and clean up a bit.
I put a bunch of emojis giving the impression that I feel like crap and feel guilty for my behaviour, and then cap it off with a couple of kiss-y face and heart emojis. It takes less than a minute for her to respond.
Cindy: God damn it, Thomas Doyle!
You scared me!
I thought something happened to you.
Did something happen?
Why did you drink so much last night?
You don't normally do that?
I'm sorry, I don't want to be that nagging girlfriend, but something's been wrong lately.
I can feel it.
And don't deny it either.
We've been together too long. I can see when something is different. For better or worse.
You shouldn't be afraid to talk to me about anything anymore. You know I'll support you in whatever way I can.
I won't force the issue now given that I'm not home, and you are probably nursing a hang over, but can we please at least talk when I get back?
Seconds pass after the love of my life stops sending messages. I am struggling to formulate thoughts, and I realize I've been holding my breath. I love concussions. Though I'm certain my current lying and her awareness of something being off with me was more likely the cause. I am scared, and I don't scare easily. I'm hoping and praying that if I explain myself that she'll be able to forgive me, eventually, and that I won't lose her.
I start typing out a message, trying to figure out what to say. I end up deleting it and starting again multiple times, until I hear my stop called out, and I pull the cord to stop the bus. I thank the driver as I step off the bus and refocus on my phone, stopping on the busy New York street. My half written message that I was likely to delete again still sitting there.
C: My Lucky Charm. Take your time. You don't need to answer to anything I've said right this minute, like I said. Go recover from your fun night.
I'm just glad you're alive, and hopefully, in one piece.
I love you Thomas Doyle. With all my heart.
I don't normally cry, but I am on the verge of tears. This woman... this beautiful, intelligent, kind woman, with an equally magnificent soul... I feel like I'm spitting in her face. I can't take it anymore.
T: Thanks, darlin.
But I think I might love you way more.
Cindy is typing...
C: Blushing Smiley Face
Nuh-uh.
T: Oh you have no idea. You may love me with all your heart, but that heart you're talking about is mine.
I gave it to you years ago.
Cindy is typing...
C: Crying face, Heart Emoji
STOP!
I don't want to cry while eating brunch with Samantha and Louise.
T: Smirking Face, Grinning Face
Seriously though
I will tell you everything when you come home. I don't want to keep things from you anymore. Heart Emoji
Cindy is typing...
C: I'm glad. For now, enjoy yourself. Have some time alone to sort out what you need to, and maybe give Pat a call.
T: What? Why?
Cindy is typing...
C: The poor guy was rambling to me last night over the phone.
Said everybody that's ever given a damn about him hates his guts. Said you were mean to him last night. Was he at the party? I didn't think Joseph liked him that much.
Anyways, he also said something about how Lisa refuses to let him around his daughter, and wants to off himself. I kind of spent some time talking him down from the ledge.
That fucking moron. Maybe I really should just kill him. Put him out of his misery.
T: I'll talk to him.
And yeah, he was briefly at Josephs.
I was "mean" to him because he lied to me about something important. Has to do with what we need to talk about. Don't worry about it though. Enjoy your time with your cousins. I'll sort this out on this end and we'll have our talk later. Okay?
Cindy is typing...
C: Patrick Kelly. I swear if he's put you in danger again... Punching Fist
T: Lol
We both know you aren't a violent person Cindy Cry Laughing Face
Cindy is typing...
C: Touche
Still. Just be careful around him Tommy. You know where that road ends if you don't cut yourself off before things get really bad.
T: I know. I'll be careful.
Cindy is typing...
C: Good
I love you Tommy
I'll talk to you later?
T: I love you too Cindy
And yeah, I'll call you.
No drinking for me tonight.
Cindy is typing...
C: Have a good day!
T: You too love!
A couple of emojis and memes were exchanged before we stopped and I put my phone away and headed home. Tonight was going to be tough. But I'll handle it.
I have to.