Both Peter and Johnny sat on one of the eagles atop the Chrysler building, the two of them having stopped by a McDonald’s after having taken care of Scorpion and were now happily munching down their food.

“I never asked, but how come you were in the neighbourhood?” Peter asked the blonde teen through a mouth full of fries. “It was great that you came along when you did.”

“It was kind of an ego thing really,” Johnny answered with a shrug. “When I hear things about ‘Huge infernos’ blazing in the city, I just like to fly over to them and see if I could do better before draining the fire and calling it a day.”

“Drain the fire?” Peter questioned. “What d’you mean?”

“Well, with the whole Human Torch thing I can do more than just set myself on fire. I can control and manipulate fire to give myself a power up, which is another thing that makes me cooler than Bobby Drake.”

“Bit ironic, don’t you think?” Peter asked with a grin.

“I guess,” Johnny chuckled. “Probably shoulda thought about that one a little more.”

“So, d’you two not get along?” Peter asked, sipping from his straw to wash down a clump of fries stuck in his throat, grimacing in pain as his larynx was forced to expand.

“It’s not like that really, just a bit of friendly rivalry,” Johnny answered, propping himself against the wall a distance away and crossing an ankle over his knee.

“The whole ice and fire thing right?” Peter guessed.

“Fire and Ice,” Johnny corrected. “Because I always come first and I’m the one on top.”

Peter was silent for a long moment, allowing the seconds to tick by as he licked a piece of fry out of his teeth, taking a deep breath and raising a finger to ask a question before Johnny answered it for him.

“And no, that was not meant to sound as gay as it did,” Johnny said, putting a hand to his face and laughing quietly.

“Right, because if it was then I’d consider changing your name to the Humo-erotic Torch,” Peter laughed, defending himself as Johnny threw a blazing fry at him.

“Hey, I’m getting lectured about repressed homesexuality from the dude who runs around most days in a skintight unitard and teases mostly male supervillains?” Johnny asked. “Sounds like a closet-case to me.”

The two laughed quietly, Peter lying down on his back and looking up at the dark sky, the storm having halted for the moment, before asking a question.

“Though saying that, d’you think our costumes are a little… exotic?” Peter queried.

“What d’you mean?” Johnny asked in confusion.

“I mean… some superhero costumes aren’t even costumes. People like Captain America, their clothing’s supposed to be a symbol, and people like Luke Cage just wear civvies when they fight crime… but guys like you and me, wearing skin-tight, full-body suits do look quite strange,” Peter explained. “Especially when I’m fighting alongside people like Hawkeye and Black Widow who are just wearing combat uniforms… though in the case of Widow, she could use a little more coverage and protection over her mountain range.”

“Amen to that. It’s a nice thing to admire but it doesn’t really help her fight better,” Johnny nodded. “But in regards to Hawkeye, you should’ve seen what he used to wear about seven or eight years back.”

“What was it?”

“Purple suit, knight-esque helmet with a big ‘H’ on the forehead, tunic, and pirate boots.”

“Fuck off.”

“Nope, completely serious. It’s the same as Cap’s original forties design, before he became the Captain America we know today.”

“You mean Captain Puerto Rico, right?”

“You noticed that too?”

“How could I not… better question, how has nobody else told him?”

“They probably have and he just ignored them.”

“How? How can you go through every day of your life wearing a symbol that doesn’t apply to you and completely ignoring everybody that tries to correct you?”

“Well… he is Captain America, remember?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Exactly.”

The two sat quietly for several minutes before finishing their meals. Johnny soon received a call from Sue saying that he needed to be back at the Baxter Building ASAP.

“Fuck, shit, dammit, sorry man. I gotta bail out on you,” Johnny said, stuffing his phone back into his pocket.

“Don’t worry about it,” Peter nodded, bumping fists with Johnny before the other teen gave him a wave.

“See you round, Parker,” he grinned. “Flame on!”

“You too bud,” Peter said, watching as Johnny blasted off at high speed, disappearing into the streets and between buildings mere seconds later. Being left alone, Peter decided it was a good time to put his helmet back on check in on how the arrest of Scorpion had gone.

“So, how’re the boys in blue handling our Scorpion?” Spider-man asked Cassie, the A.I having been entertaining herself with other things whilst Peter and Johnny had talked.

“I’ll check their systems for any new matching her description and…” Cassie said, trailing off mid sentence. “Oh no.”

“Oh no?” Spider-Man asked in an alarmed manner. “Oh no what?”

“Oh no as in there hasn’t been a booking for the Scorpion… or an arrest for that matter, or even a sighting of her,” Cassie continued. “The police arrived at the location we’d designated only to find melted metal, shredded webs… and this.”

An image flashed on screen of a small calling card that had been left, a little black and white cat with a happy smile on it’s face telling Spider-man exactly who had broken the Scorpion out.

“Felicia,” he spat furiously, getting up and throwing himself off the edge of the eagle, plummeting down to just above street level and shooting a web-line, heading for Felicia’s uptown penthouse.

“Felicia?”  Cassie asked. “Felicia Hardy, the Mayor’s assistant?”

“Yeah, her, the Black Cat… I had no idea she’d be working for the Scorpion,” Spider-Man snarled, skidding on his knees across a large line of glass windows before springing off to another building and sprinting along it. “I knew she’d worked for the Big Man before, but… ugh, nevermind, I need to talk to her about this and see what the hell’s going on.”

“Hang on, if you know she’s the Black Cat, then why don’t you turn her in? Have her arrested and take one more criminal off the streets?” Cassie asked.

“Because she knows who I am. If she goes to jail with what she knows about me, I get several friendly visits from every big criminal in the city, and with Silvermane on his way out of the can and a personal vendetta set on me by the Big Man of Crime himself, being publicly exposed would be even worse than ever,” Spider-Man explained.

“Right, so she’s got you checkmated,” Cassie sighed. “That’s not a good position to be in.”

“No, it isn’t. But it does have its benefits, with Felicia being in deep with the criminal underworld I can use her to get to other high-ranking members of the mob,” Spider-Man continued, baring his teeth as Felicia’s apartment came into view. “I’ve got a plan. D’you think you can help me with it?”

“I can try, what d’you have in mind?” Cassie asked.

“Like I said, Felicia’s quite popular with criminals, assassins, drug barons, and mob bosses, Which means she’ll get a lot of attention from them. Phone calls, text messages, possibly even emails that I want access to,” Spider-Man said, swinging up and sticking to the underside of Felicia’s balcony. “So what I need you to do is hack into her I.P address and intercept any incoming messages that come through the internet, as well as tap into the wireless frequency her cell phone and house phone’ll uses to receive calls. Whenever she gets anything like that, you show me, can you do that?”

“Yeah, just get me close and I’ll get onto it,” Cassie agreed.

“Good, thanks Cassie,” Spider-Man said, crawling over to the top of the balcony.

He looked into the penthouse, seeing no sign of Felicia but being able to hear loud, pounding music. He ventured inside the penthouse, following the music through the apartment to the lower floor. He swiftly discovered that this lower floor was a fully-converted gym, fitted with a large amount of exercise equipment, ranging from dumbbells, barbells, adjustable bench presses, boxing bags, both speed and heavy, a multi-technique pull-up bar, as well as a large laminate floor with a pole mounted on the floor in the back of the room.

Felicia herself was currently staring at the ceiling as she used the bench, the HUD analysing the weights and informing him the ones she used added up to two hundred and ten pounds, an extraordinary weight for most people and even a woman of Felicia’s physique.

She hadn’t noticed him at that point and he decided to play a trick on her, scanning the room for the signal her iPhone was using to stream music to her speaker and interrupting the connection, the music shutting off.

Felicia paused, placed the weight back on the rack and sat up. Her eyes widened in shock as she saw the armoured figure standing against the wall.

She threw herself off the bench, landing on her feet and squaring them out, holding her hands out in a fighting stance. She seemed to relax her stance as she noticed the enormous spider symbol on the chest of the armour and the similar, neon-glowing blue eyes on the helmet.

“Spider?” she asked in surprise. “Is that you?”

“It might be,” he shrugged, his synthesised voice making it harder for her to place. “Or I could just be playing the Arkham Knight role and dressing up like my worst enemy… but I think unlike our dear Jason Todd, I’m not an enormous fucking let-down.”

“Yeah, okay,” Felicia said, relaxing and sitting back down on the bench press. “Now I know it’s you. Nobody else makes armour that awesome seem so pathetic in reality.”

“Jason Todd?” Spider-Man said, seeing Cassie deciphering the I.P address and beginning to scan through her emails using key search words and phrases.

“I have no idea who that is, Spider,” Felicia shrugged, wiping the sweat off her brow.

“How long’ve you been going for?” Spider-Man asked, crossing his arms.

“About an hour and a half,” Felicia said, pulling her workout shirt off her soaking body and throwing it into the corner of the room, doing the same with her yoga pants and sitting down on the floor, allowing her naked pores to release as much heat as possible to lessen her cooldown period.

“Can you hand me that bottle of Powerade please?” she requested, holding her hand out towards the side of the room where a bottle of blue sports drink rested.

He retrieved the drink, removing his helmet and setting it down on the side before walking back over to Felicia, the woman taking the drink with a thankful nod and downing most of it in one go, sweeping her sweat-soaked white hair out of her face.

“D’you wanna tell me why you freed the Scorpion?” Peter asked angrily.

Felicia froze in place, the drink still in her mouth, before continuing to sip from the liquid before speaking.

“I owed her a favour,” she shrugged. “That was all.”

“I don’t know why, but I feel like I don’t believe that for a second,” Peter said, pressing her for answers. “What sort of deal do you have with her?”

“A friendly relationship is all, sometimes more,” Felicia shrugged. “It’s not important.”

“I think it is. When you say more, what d’you mean? Partners in crime? Assassins?” he demanded.

“Hot, wet, drunk, promiscuous, lesbian sex is what I mean by more,” Felicia snapped angrily “Happy now?”

“No,” Peter continued. “With sexual relations comes a closer bond. You feel like you’ve gotta protect her or something?”

“You really do amaze me sometimes,” Felicia said, finishing off her bottle and throwing it across the room. She stood up straight and cracked her back loudly, grunting as she did so.

“Care to specify why?” Peter asked.

“D’you know how many guys are able to keep from getting rock hard, much less continue to interrogate a woman like me after she mentions eating out another woman?” Felicia asked. “I’ll give you a hint: not many.”

“It’s because I’m not interested in your sexual partners. I’m interested in your criminal ones Hardy,” Peter hissed angrily. “Now tell me where she is.”

“You’re no fun when you’re like this,” Felicia sighed. “You’re too angry to think clearly.”

“No, I’m not. I’m angry enough to start thinking clearly, something I never do around you and it’s something I should start doing more often,” he hissed.

“Look, I’m not talking to you when you’re acting like you are,” Felicia said, stepping closer to him and pressing her nude form against the armour, giving him a sultry look.

“Felicia, I’m not-”

“Listen here, Webz,” she said, placing a finger to his lips to silence him. “I’m gonna go upstairs and get a shower to clean off. I want you to come in with me and help cool down, then we can both get out, get something to drink, something to eat, have a quick fuck and see if you’re in a better mood then, okay?”

“Felicia, seriously-”

“Shh, no more talking,” she said. “Shower time.”

Peter growled angrily but allowed himself to be lead away by the cat burglar, wondering why he let her talk him into rolls in the sheets as often as she did.

Felicia nuzzled her nose into Peter’s neck as he massaged her voluptuous rear, the taller woman lying on his chest and purring quietly, the two of them having finished their little soiree together, and were now relaxing and enjoying each other’s company.

“Better?” Felicia asked her part-time lover.

“Yeah… much, thanks,” Peter nodded, looking up at the ceiling as the rain poured outside the penthouse. “So… are you gonna tell me what the Scorpion’s doing?”

“Well… actually, I was hoping you’d tell me,” Felicia said in a quiet voice.

“What?” Peter asked in confusion, looking down at Felicia, the green eyes of the cat burglar beneath him being filled with worry. “You’re telling me that neither of us know what she’s doing?”

“I… I think I might have an idea but… fuck, Spider, I have no clue and it’s starting to worry me,” Felicia sighed, sitting up and moving to the edge of the bed, resting her head in her hands. “We’ve been great friends for years now. We worked together, partied together, and slept together, she’s always kept me clued in on what she’s doing but… now, she’s gone dark on me.”

Peter sat up himself, moving next to Felicia and staring out the window, opening his mouth and growling out a single, strained word.

“Fuck.”

Felicia looked up at him, a confused look on her face at Peter’s reaction.

“What’s wrong?” Felicia asked.

“It’s… it’s just that she’s your friend, good friend, and I’m gonna have to take her down soon,” Peter said, standing up and walking to the balcony door, leaning against it.

“And you don’t want to?”

“No, I do want to take her down, but… now that I know you care about her… I just don’t wanna hurt your feelings.”

“Why not? I’m not your girlfriend Spider, you don’t have to worry about upsetting me, especially when we’re both on different sides of the law.”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you Felicia.”

“Right, slow down. I can understand having a hard on for me, but don’t you dare go emotionally soft on me Spider. I don’t want you bringing me flowers, I don’t want you buying me gifts and I definitely don’t want you calling me any cutesy nicknames.”

“Alright, whatever you say, Fi-Fi.”

Felicia walked over to him, giving him an affectionate look before punching him on the arm.

“Take that as a warning. If you call me Fi-Fi again, I promise that if they find your body, it won’t be in one piece,” she growled.

“Alright, point taken, Cat,” Peter chuckled, the taller woman leaning her head on his shoulder and allowing him to wrap his arms around her waist, squeezing her body against his.

The two stood silently for a long moment before Peter asked his next question, wanting to get on with business.

“So, did your informant get anything back on the medallion we found on the chopper crew?” he asked.

“As a matter of fact, they did,” Felicia nodded. “It turns out the pendant, not medallion, we got is a calling card that’s used by the Vercettis to mark their involvement in a gang war or murder.”

“Wait, if it’s that well known, then why don’t the police just arrest them when they find one?” Peter asked.

“Let me try that again. Only the most trusted members of the Vercetti’s crime family are supposed to leave it behind and only few outsiders known what it means. The police haven’t put that together yet and that’s why, my lovable smartass.”

“Right, then how do you know about it?” Peter questioned. “I don’t think you seem like the ‘Italian mob’ kind of girl.”

“No, one of the higher-ranking Vercetti goons spilled the beans after I blew him,” Felicia answered. “Nice guy, but he was hung like a fucking weasel.”

“Right, so what were the Vercettis doing trying to steal the codes to New York’s information servers?” Peter asked.

“From what my intel guy was able to pull up, they’ve apparently started working for Silver Sable, and by that logic, Silvermane,” Felicia explained. “If his logic was right, then the Vercettis are trying to piggyback off Silvermane’s return to power, as well as using their goons to do his work before he gets released, which is in three weeks time.”

“Right…” Peter said, looking up at the storm clouds outside. “So I’m thinking the best way to swipe one of Silvermane’s legs out before he even stands on it is to take down the Vercetti family.”

“And how do you plan to take down a mob family that’s been here since the forties on your own?” Felicia asked.

“Simple, from the inside,” Peter shrugged.

“You’re gonna go undercover?” Felicia asked with a surprised expression. “Ooh, just imagining you as a mob thug, a criminal… a bad boy… oh, the thought of that’s getting me wetter than the Niagara River.”

“Thank you,” Peter chuckled, running his fingers through her hair.

“How d’you plan to get into their family?” Felicia questioned. “They’re a trusting family and they destroy rats when they find them.”

“I’m not worried, if they try anything I’ll just take them all down as Spider-Man,” Peter grinned. “And as for how I’m going to get in… I’m sure Shining has a few ideas I can use… I’ll go see him now actually before he and Cadance head to bed.”

“You’re leaving?” Felicia questioned with a pouting expression. “But we’ve only fucked once… can’t you stay a little longer?”

“Sorry, Felicia,” Peter said, moving away from her and going back over to his discarded armour. “Duty calls.”

“Fine… but you come see me tomorrow so we can talk about how your infiltration attempt went,” she said. “And don’t stand me up again or I’ll kill your dog.”

“I don’t have a dog,” Peter said.

“Then I’ll buy you a dog,” Felicia shrugged.

“Thank you.”

“And then I’ll kill the fucker.”

“Then I’ll destroy your kitty.”

“Honey, you do that anyway.”

“Ugh, you’re such a slut.”

“And you fucking love me for it.”

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