queen of crime

Jessica offered the other woman a weak smirk, resting the bottle on her knee. “You know Spiderman? That’s pretty wicked. I met the former Spiderwoman once,” she quipped, remembering the less-than-pleasant interaction. But she’d gotten a sort-of friend out of it. Stranger things had happened, she guessed.

She rocked the bottle back and forth on her knee. “Like I said, I’m no expert on this shit,” she said, shrugging. “I don’t think there is a how-to guide. You gotta… just do what’s right by you,” she said slowly, nodding towards Felicia. “Stand up for the people who can’t do it themselves. Use what you got. Occasionally, let yourself give a damn,” she said, a small, genuine smile crossing her face. Her eyes flicked to Felicia’s. “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. Use it. You’ll be fine,” she said, actually believing it. 

Yeah, she knew Spider-Man. Felicia debated playing it cool, but chances were Jessica would see through it faster than Felicia could say ‘it’s your lucky day’. “We have some...history,” was what Felicia decided on, unable to classify it as anything else. There, that wasn’t so bad. “A long time ago.”

“I’ll give that a try,” she said, actually meaning it. It was an experiment. Nobody would know except the other member of their self titled club, and Felicia wanted to keep it that way. “And try, try, try again. Maybe.”

      ¬ “that makes absolutely no sense, there is no way that darth vader could beat superman, i’ve seen what that man can do and he would kick vaders ass.”

"Vader could choke the life out of him before Superman can even move,” Felicia insisted, abandoning her dignity for the sake of her argument. “Come on. The Force definitely beats the hot alien, no contest.”

“Anything for you, Cat,” Pietro quipped, joining Felicia in the heart of the fight. He threw punches too quick to be dodged, used the training Natasha had put him through to to focus his attacks. 

Together, all the HYDRA were out like lights. Felicia put her hands on her hips, eyeing Q with a grin.

“I hope you’ve got a reservation or something,” she told him, more playful than stern. “You aren’t a lousy date so far.” 

“Clearly,” Jessica quipped, raising a brow. The smirk on her face became an easy, if drunken, grin. There was something about Felicia, something that just clicked. “That long?” she teased, leaning forward to grab the bottle. 

Her hand stilled, wrapped around the whiskey, when Felicia spoke again. Jessica glanced at her, saw those bright shining eyes looking at her with – something. Something she couldn’t place, but something she knew she didn’t deserve. “Been there, done that,” she said finally, forgoing the glass and just dragging the bottle back with her. “Wasn’t cut out for it,” she said, her tone casual, even. As if it wasn’t an admission. She took a swig from the bottle, wincing at the burn, then shook her head. “Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t give it a go. Might work better for you.” 

She overstepped. The question went unanswered—it didn’t really matter. Jessica was the detective, the one who pursued clues and trails and secrets, but Felicia was the thief. The one that searched for answers, keys, every way in to every kind of lock that she came across. The beat stretched between them, awkwardly, until Jessica broke the silence, clearly deflecting.

Felicia never liked overstepping. Unintentionally, that is.

“Any advice?” Felicia asked, lightly. “The Spider isn’t that helpful with the how-to guides.”

“She says as though  asked her opinion.” he said shortly after setting the bottle down.

"You didn’t need to ask. It was a public service,” Felicia retorted, giving him her sweetest smile.

“Gimmie a sec, will ya? Can’t you see I’m having a moment with my Valentine over here? Jesus….”

"Your Valentine is a drink? That’s pretty sad.”

“It’s a GOOD show.” In this dimension, anyways. “Your approval’s NOTED.”

"Noted?” Felicia repeated, raising an eyebrow. “You sound like a T-800.”

“Nah I don’t need you to kill. That’s not what I’m good at, leave the hard part to me. Unless it’s a deal breaker for me to get my hands a little dirty.” He raises an eyebrow at her direction. Brock didn’t mind restraining from killing for a mission, it wasn’t like he needed it. It was just what he was taught was best, don’t need to worry anymore if someone is long gone. It’s what’s worked for him. 

“Don’t worry about the money. I got enough cash to pay you, your not the only one who has expensive buyers.” He rolls his eyes, why did everyone think he was poor? he was a hit man for fucks sake, and he’s pretty damn good at it.

”It’s not,” said Felicia, shrugging. It was a relief not to be asked to do that work—she had her own code, no matter how skewed it sounded for a thief to stick to their word, to a rule. “Dirty ‘em all you like.”

“Just checking. It wouldn’t be the first time somebody’s tried skip my cut.” Felicia always found some suitable alternative in the end, if she wasn’t paid appropriately. “Where’s the hit?” Felicia would do her own research into the building, like guard patterns and weak points, but she needed a starting point. 

Brow furrows in surprise. He was being flippant. “Thief with a heart of gold. It’s my lucky day.”. He’s still skeptical. Scott leaves the drive by the computer, moving back for her to take the console.  “No funny business.” he promises. “As long as you don’t run off. My team’s outside.” he warns.

“I won’t run off until I’m done,” she assured him, setting up the drives to copy. She kept one glove’s claws extended, just in case he went back on his word. Even one free hand would help. “What’s on here that’s so important to you?” Felicia’s orders were to retrieve, but Cyclops seemed like he was gonna use all of the info himself. “I’m curious.”

“I’m THIS close to leaving this dimension. Even the world with nothing but shrimp beats this BULLSHIT.”

"Quoth the Buffy. I approve.”

He pulls out a flashdrive from his pocket, identical to the one that lay in the safe. “I’ll pass along your comments to the fashion committee. But I’m going to need a favour first. That drive could save a lot of people so,”. He waves the flashdrive in his hand. “Swapsies?” Might as well try the easy way first. It never hurt to ask.

Felicia put her hands on her hips. “I’ll let you have a copy,” she decided, jerking a thumb at the computer behind Cyclops. The job was to get the intel. Nobody said a thing about who else happened to get an eyeful. “As long as there’s no funny business with the beams. Got it?”

“I wanted to get you something you’d really appreciate,” Pietro responded, punching the agent closest to him. “Plus, roses are cliche. This seemed much more worthwhile.” Watching her fight was incredible; she really didn’t need his help at all.

Q could stay on pace, even with the wisecracks. Felicia did appreciate it."You gonna jump in?” She asked between one breath and the next, untangling herself from a HYDRA man’s grip. “They’re getting antsy.”

“Cops tend to be both brave, and very stupid,” Jessica countered, smirking wryly. Handcuffs didn’t tend to last long around her either, unless she was trying to behave herself. “My lawyer would probably like the reprieve, though I have a feeling you’re gonna be do something slightly more drastic than offering me legal advice,” she said pointedly. “So you break in and out, huh Hardy? How versatile.” 

She paused, taking a long sip while she thought about it. Finally, she shook her head. “They say everyone’s born a hero, right? I’m clearly not an expert on image or any of that shit, but I’m saying… don’t let life push you anywhere you don’t wanna go. Don’t let it push you over the line and make you a villain, just because that’s what you’ve done before. Play the role you want to play. And you’re not half bad at helping people either,” she added, glancing down at her new jacket and smiling gently. 

"I aim to please.” Jails were an easy gig once you learned the schedule (she sprung at least five of Kingpin’s cronies by now). Felicia just wasn’t gonna be the one who wore an ugly orange jumpsuit. “My record’s about five hours.”

“Tell you what, Jones. I’ll consider the hero gig if you do.” Felicia polished off her glass, eyes bright. “Take your own advice sometime, would ya?”

Pietro returned the kiss with a grin, laughing as she pushed him away. “They always are,” he quipped before turning and running towards the agents, dodging bullets as he did so. He grabbed their guns, yanking them from their grips and carrying them back to where Felicia crouched. “All yours, Cat.”

Felicia kicked the guns out of sight and strode on to meet the surge of approaching goons. “This is your early Valentine’s Day gift?” She called over her shoulder, slashing at the face of one guy and gut punching the next. Felicia dodged plenty of grasping hands, and kneed somebody in the crotch. “You really put a lot of thought into it. I’m touched.”

T’challa chuckled softly as she spoke. “Does it, now ? Interesting.” he smirked. “I would but then I risk my face not being so pretty later on”

“It’s worth the risk. Criminals will just turn themselves in when they see you.”

“That’s not a tall order or anything,” Jessica teased, the corner of her lips curling into a smirk. She likes that devil-may-care attitude Felicia has, her easy-going confidence. Even if it was mostly a show – she had a sense about these kind of things. The people who were the most cocky were usually the most insecure in the end.

“I’m touched,” she said, the sarcasm thick. But in a way, she actually was. It was confusing and overwhelming, not even Trish had done this before – though mostly because Jessica had threatened to leap out the window if she tried. “At least you’re a smart thief,” she teased. “Or you’d be calling me from a jail cell. I’ve got zero money for bail, by the way, but I could call in a favor if I needed to.”

There it was. Jessica raised a brow, sipped from her own glass. “Never made sense to me. Image and aesthetic and shit. If you wanna do it, then it fits you, right? Do what you wanna do, Hardy. Fuck what anyone thinks of it.” 

Not very. Some ego stroking wasn’t gonna put anybody out. Felicia would preen like nobody’s business.

“Jail? Please. They wouldn’t get me in cuffs, unless the cops want some ugly scars.” Felicia wasn’t wearing her gear, but her claws were something else. The metal cut through almost anything, and it was great in a pinch. “Now, if you’re ever in jail, use your one phone call and give me a ring. I’ll get you out.” She would’ve sprung Walter Hardy out if he wanted to leave. (Which he didn’t.)

“You saying I should change my image? Play hero instead of the same old hot thief schtick?”

It was tempting, to say the least. Jessica had no idea how much.  

“Don’t act so surprised darling. What did you expect from a call from me? Besides nabbing a couple of weapons from S.H.I.E.L.D.” 

Letting out a small smirk he throws his feet up on the table, hoping to get the great Felicia involved would guarantee a successful mission.  “The way I see it, this would help both you n’ me. I’m sure you’re on their radar just as I am, Stealing, or even looking at weapon plans. It’ll help us both out. I’ll provide the needed muscle and you do your sneak shit. It’ll be in the bag.”

‘Darling’. That was cute. Not.

"My rate’s through the roof,” Felicia told him, warningly. “Hope you can afford it.” She sat down opposite Rumlow, curious despite herself. He dropped off the radar after those HYDRA goons came to light, and now he was back, bearing a new name and an ego bigger than Iron Man’s. “I don’t kill, by the way. That a deal breaker?”