not a hero

“What do you think it’s like back there?” Kate had been speculating about it with anyone who would listen, but no one seemed all that interested. After all, there was the more important problem at hand –  how were they going to get back there? They couldn’t stay here forever. But Kate wondered what her father was up to. What the world was like without New York, if it came to a screeching halt, or if no one even noticed. Maybe whatever brought them here put some shade of the city in their place. “It’s probably better anyway. This way I don’t have to worry about them. Plus, free mansion, totally empty. Mariah’s even kept the place clean,” she said, smiling gently. She wasn’t surprised by Felicia’s offer – unlike other people in their ‘circle,’ she had never been stingy with sharing the wealth, literally sometimes. “Being here? In the home of Felicia Hardy? That is basically a spa day,” she said, beaming at her friend. “Okay, so maybe not worse, but still – it’s over now. That’s all,” she said quickly, careful to never stop smiling. She couldn’t exactly blame Felicia for being concerned – that was just the mark of a good friend. “I’m dealing with it though. Honestly, I am. I’m better than ever,” she said softly. “So, hit me with those interesting stories,” she declared, popping a piece of food into her mouth and staring expectantly. 

“Probably relatively normal,” Felicia replied. She hadn’t wasted time considering how Earth was faring without New York City, but realistically, the economy would have taken a big hit. Wall Street was a major cog in the wheel and without it, inevitably things would begin to deteriorate. Rather than say that to Kate, however, Felicia continued on the easier response. “People are resilient and I think everyone would realize pretty quick that we need to help ourselves. Life has to go on, right?” It was a very narrow-minded response, but also realistic in a sense. There was no choice but to carry on when disaster struck, and luckily, humans were resilient. “Fair point,” she agreed with a nod. “Aw, that’s great! Your mansion is beautiful and Mariah is incredible,” she replied with a smile. Felicia’s home was a spacious, luxury apartment, but her parents had preferred larger homes. “I’ll even supply the champagne,” she promised with a grin. “Maybe I should throw a party soon… what do you think?” She hadn’t for a long, long time, but Felicia had a reputation to uphold. “If you say so,” she replied, allowing the subject to drop. It was clear that Kate had no interest in discussing her experiences at length and Felicia was incapable of forcing her. “I’m glad you’re better than ever,” she replied honestly. “And you definitely look better than ever,” Felicia added, winking. Rather than discuss her recent thefts, information no one was partial to, Felicia easily settled into her everyday persona for ‘story time.’ “I had a mutant with four arms ask me to sleep with him a few days ago,” she told Kate with a laugh. “I was honestly tempted. Can you imagine what would happen with those?”

Honestly, it was rare for anyone to actually like Tommy. The Young Avengers liked him now, but that had been largely touch and go in the beginning, had seen them going from an intense distrust of him to something more like friendship in a slow process. Often times, he wondered if they would have continued with their plan to break him out of prison at all after meeting him had it not been for Billy and the clear physical similarities between the two. With Felicia, it wasn’t like that. He wasn’t entirely sure if the two of them were friends or simply two people who annoyed one another and had really good sex, but he knew she didn’t keep him around out of obligation to Billy or because she’d simply grown accustomed to him. That was far more than could be said for most of the people in his life, and he found he enjoyed it. “Patriot might get jealous. I’ve already got, like, way more fans than he does.” It wasn’t entirely true; the Young Avengers didn’t exactly have a plethora of fans screaming their names in any situation, and most of Tommy’s fans were people who mistook him for Quicksilver or one of the Flashes. “I’d rather spend time taking off our clothes than designing new ones.”

She was easy to be around in any case. Tommy didn’t feel like he had to censor himself, didn’t feel like he needed to be careful about what he said or what he did. Felicia didn’t seem to mind that he was more villain than hero some days, and considering her habit of stealing, she didn’t seem turned off by his own penchant for taking what wasn’t his. Whatever they had, it worked. “I’m always right,” he replied with a wink. “I hope my opinion’s relevant, ‘cause I definitely have one.” Her confidence only added to how attractive she was as far as he was concerned. Tommy had never been much of a fan of modesty. He laughed as she spoke again, nodding in agreement. “You’re right about that. Religious people are always a little fucked.” One of the juvies he’d been at once had been religious. It was Catholic or something, he couldn’t remember now. The guards had been especially cruel, the headmaster particularly vindictive. Religion seemed to bring out the absolute worst in some people, gave them an excuse to be awful.

The story of what had happened to him wasn’t one he’d ever actually recounted before. The only real friends he’d had were the Young Avengers, and they’d all known what happened to him, been aware with it without him having to say it aloud. Putting it into words felt weirdly intimate, even if he had largely detached himself from it. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to hear from her, but it wasn’t what he got. He turned to look at her, expression softening a little. There was a brief flash of gratefulness across his face but it disappeared quickly, replaced by a neutral mask. “Sure,” he agreed. “I’m also a pretty decent lay. Like a weapon with a vibrator setting! You’re welcome.” It was a lot easier to joke about it than to admit that, some days, he wasn’t sure if he was more than a weapon. He had friends, a family of sorts, but he was still destructive. He didn’t know how not to be. He was a little surprised when Felicia went into her own story. He’d been expecting her to laugh it off, to pretend he hadn’t asked or request the subject be dropped. She wasn’t exactly open about her life, and Tommy had never had a problem with that. That didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate hearing what she had to say. It was unexpected, the story of what made her who she was. It was terrible and tragic the same way those stories always were, and he guessed it made sense. “For what it’s worth,” he said, “you’re pretty much the best thief I’ve ever met. And I’ve met a lot.” 

Tommy wasn’t someone that Felicia entirely understood her feelings for. They certainly weren’t romantic, she doubted she would ever feel that strongly about anyone — sure, it happened in the past, but Felicia had grown since then and the idea of someone truly knowing her was terrifying — but frankly, she wasn’t sure if she genuinely liked Tommy. He was entertaining, always provided a good time, but Tommy Shepherd was also irritating. At the end of the day, Felicia wasn’t sure it mattered. Neither of them seemed concerned about where they stood on the either, and neither were remotely interested in anything more serious, whether that was a deep friendship or dating. It was a relief. “I don’t imagine that’s hard,” Felicia replied, shrugging a shoulder. Honestly, she had no idea who Patriot was, but Tommy seemed to want to discuss him. In theory, she could ask, but she assumed it was one of his fellow Young Avengers. For now, that was enough information. “You are at your best when you’re naked,” she replied with a laugh. That was another thing Felicia liked about Tommy: he was honest, there was no grey area. She had to deal with that enough with contacts, mobsters, black market reps and all the rest.

At the end of the day, Felicia was positive that if she came to the revelation that she liked Tommy Shepherd as a person, for more than the fun they had in and out of the bedroom, she would be concerned. For years, Felicia had avoided anything serious in fear that it could get in the way of her operation. Additionally, her trust issues were deep seeded; she understood how easy it was for people to lie and betray one another. Tommy was honest now, but that did not necessarily mean he would stay way, and Speed was one of few that knew Felicia's dual identity. Spending time with Tommy was a risk, but the more Felicia analyzed how dangerous it was, the more she would overthink the million things that could go wrong between them. She had never been a paranoid woman, she was intelligent, and she had no desire to step over the figurative line into mania. “I think I already know your opinion on the subject,” she replied with a snicker. “But you can tell me anyway,” Felicia added. Tommy had never seemed to mind her confidence, like she never minded his. Insecurity was a complete turnoff, she liked the fact it was never something she had to worry about. “I think you have to be delusional to believe in something all-powerful without proof,” she pointed out, shrugging a shoulder. Church had never been of interest to Felicia and while her mother was religious, her father had definitely not been.

Felicia recognized the genuine expression on Tommy’s face, though she couldn’t place it specifically. Whether it was relief, gratitude or something else entirely didn’t matter in the long run. What counted was the fact that he had trusted her enough to tell her, and if that wasn’t making their relationship slightly more serious, Felicia wasn’t sure what would. Honestly, she wasn’t sure how she felt about it, but she highly doubted she’d come up with an answer in a short period of time. “It’s the best of both worlds,” she replied with a smile. It was obvious that the moment had quickly passed between them and as a result, Felicia felt herself relax. The danger, figuratively speaking, was averted. Tommy seemed surprised when she shared her own abridged version of events, all available online due to the fact that Tommy knew Black Cat was Felicia Hardy. It was doubtful that he knew that, however, and if he did, Tommy seemed smart enough to realize her admitting it was different. It wasn’t exciting, wasn’t a moving moment, but it was some proof of trust between them, she supposed. “I better be,” she replied with a smirk. “If you said otherwise, you’d never see me again and I’m sure that would break your heart. I am irreplaceable, Tommy.”

“Spoken like someone who has never put a frankly kind of ridiculous amount of time into considering proper taco-belt storage,” Dick retorted, flicking open one of the pockets on his belt and removing, as advertised, something taco-shaped and wrapped in waxed paper. Some fits of absurdity were worth indulging. And it was still warm, he noted with satisfaction. So the wiring definitely worked, and so far hadn’t even accidentally electrocuted him a little. “I am an expert at tacos,” he declared, as much to himself as to her, before taking a massive bite. Good at tacos, yes. Delicate and refined, not so much.

He shrugged. “Not as much as you might think. As long as they’re not getting into it with someone else, I don’t see any reason to pick a fight that might get too big for me to handle. Leaves plenty of time for me to work on my own cases.” Nonchalant, that was the key word here. Keep it cool, don’t give her a reason to bolt. The last thing he needed was to turn this into a rooftop chase. He could probably still make it work if this turned more ‘chase and interrogate’ than ‘friendly chat’ but that wasn’t the way he wanted to spend his night. And besides, it wasn’t like Black Cat had been all that bad. Yeah, she’d stolen from him, but she’d gone along with his scheme to make sure what she stole was useless, she hadn’t done any more damage, hadn’t even tried to steal anything except for the item he’d let her take. So if he could keep this friendly, he would. “Problem is, I’m sort of a curious guy by nature. So when I hear about something that doesn’t fit with what I’ve heard about a thief, it gets me to wondering if maybe there’s something going on. Maybe something I can help with.”

“Strangely, I’ve never spent my time doing that. Can you share your secrets with me?” Felicia asked, still disbelieving that Robin(?) genuinely had taco hidden on his utility belt. She kept one of her own, of course, equipped with weapons, her grapple hook, lock picks and other tools, but it had never occurred to Felicia to add food into the mix. As Black Bat(?) pulled something wrapped in wax-paper from his belt, her eyebrows rose, and sure enough, a taco was revealed. “Wow, I’m impressed,” she said drily. “How does it taste?” Honestly, Felicia was unsure whether she wanted to hear the answer. Who knew how long the taco was sitting on the utility belt?

Contrary to what some might assume, positivity didn’t always come naturally to Nadia. She had to work at it, had to fight tooth and nail for her happiness. She’d had to earn it alongside her freedom, and now that she had, she didn’t intend on letting it go. Things went wrong sometimes – demons roamed the streets, New York was torn away from the rest of the world, people didn’t turn out to be who you’d thought they were – but she was on a date with a beautiful stranger, she was wearing a dress, she was free. What better thing was there to be? “I don’t think so,” she repeated, still uncertain as to how she ought to explain it. It didn’t seem like first date conversation in any case. Grinning at the compliment, Nadia looked down at her dress once more. “I thought so, too! I’d love to let you admire all of it thoroughly, if you’d like!” Flirting, too, was new to Nadia, but she liked to think she was getting good at it! All it was was being kind with a twist, and Nadia excelled at kindness. “That does make it pretty incredible,” she agreed, flashing another smile. “I don’t know. I think that had a lot to do with it for a while, but now it seems that not many people ask me.” She didn’t always put them in the best position to ask, she knew. Nadia had been told that she talked a lot, made it difficult for her conversational partners to get a word in edgewise. She took the wine as Felicia offered it to her, holding her glass up and clinking it gently against her date’s. “Hear, hear,” she replied cheerfully. Lowering her glass and taking a sip, she nodded at the taste. It wasn’t a wine she’d tried before, but they all sort of tasted the same to her. “Is this the part of the date where you tell me about yourself? I’d love to know more about you, anything you’d like to share!”

There were countless subjects Felicia absolutely refused to talk about. Her father was one of them, though it was a famed scandal, and her experiences with Kingpin was another. Frankly, most personal topics she avoided, and that was easy due to her bravado. Few people bothered see through it, but it was easy to notice in other people. Nadia was kind, charismatic, and she obviously wanted to avoid the subject of her strange upbringing. Whether that was because she felt similarly to Felicia, hated sharing, was unclear, but what was clear was that Felicia wouldn’t force her. “Right,” she said, offering Nadia a bright smile. It was the easiest way to drop the subject and make it clear that she didn’t mind. When Nadia flirted back, Felicia’s smile grew much more genuine. She had always loved good first dates for exactly this reason: they were light, fun and occasionally they ended very well. “I would love to admire all of it,” she replied. And it was the truth! Nadia was extremely attractive, who wouldn’t love the opportunity to sleep with her? Felicia didn’t expect it, nor was it her intention when she had originally asked her out, but it was a great prospect. “People are disconnected these days,” she offered as a reason. “Rather than ask people out, a lot just seem to want to sext. It’s a nightmare, especially when the unsolicited dick pics come along.” Felicia had had her fair share, Tinder really had been awful. It was difficult to believe that anyone enjoyed that app. “How do you like the wine?” She asked with a smile. It was a good brand, one that she typically drank, but everyone’s tastes were unique. Nadia deserved to enjoy it, and if she didn’t, Felicia would order something else. It was their night. “It can be,” she agreed. “I’ve recently started working as a model and I have a degree in the arts,” she offered. Idly, Felicia wondered how much information was enough to satisfy Nadia’s curiosity. “I grew up here in New York, but I love and miss traveling. My favourite place I’ve ever been is Bali. Your turn,” she suggested.

If there was one thing she’d learned through the revelation of her father, it was that she wasn’t built for heroism. On some level, she’d always known it. Her temper had always been a hair too short, and she was just a little too prone to violence when her emotions were running wild. Heroism wasn’t what she was meant for, but that didn’t mean she didn’t care about people. She cared too much, sometimes; it was part of her problem. This woman in this alley didn’t deserve to be arrested simply because Lorna had ventured into the same corner as her, and it was the least Lorna could do to offer. That didn’t mean she wasn’t relieved when the stranger didn’t immediately tell her to go, of course. Safety wasn’t exactly an easy thing to find at this time of night! “Oh yeah?” A small smile played at her features, and she raised a brow as if daring the woman to prove how convincing she could be. “I may have thrown one of them through the air a little bit. I don’t think he was hurt, but he was definitely pissed off.” The demons seemed far less a threat than the soldiers, minor enough that Lorna hadn’t even really considered them until the other woman brought them up. “Two’s better than one either way,” she agreed with a shrug. “God, they’re so touchy, aren’t they? They freak about everything.”

As far as people Felicia suddenly met in an alleyway, this woman was far from the worst. Truthfully, she didn’t have high standards for that particular criteria — the majority of people Felicia accidentally ran into were completely irritating. Some were officers of the law, not at all feared by her, while others were vigilantes Felicia was a little bit more wary of. Black Cat had spent years training vigorously, but her particular brand of superpowers weren’t as combative as say, webs or super strength. Felicia could hold her own, win in most fights, but only when the playing field was even. That was precisely why she’d gone to Kingpin in the first place. Luckily, this presumed mutant didn’t seem to mind some incredible company, and she didn’t suspect that Felicia’s motives were anything but well-meaning. “What would you like me to convince you of?” She asked, a smirk crossing her face. “Well, as long as it was a little bit, I’m sure he’ll get over it soon.” Honestly, Felicia was indifferent to what the woman had done as long as it wasn’t lethal. The last thing she wanted to be was an accessory to murder, all other charges she’d most likely covered herself. “I wonder how they’ve gotten through life up to this point,” she mused. “So, what powers have you got that can get us out of this mess? You are a mutant, aren’t you?” God, Felicia hoped she was. If someone actively chose green hair, she wasn’t sure how she would react.

@quecnofcrime

Parties like this are second nature for Harry at this point, muscle memory, automatic response after a near lifetime of his father’s training. He knows exactly who’s hands he should shake, how much alcohol he should drink to be polite but also stay focused, and the appropriate times to pull away form the crowd and be in the middle of it. By all accounts it should have been boring as sin, nothing more than a business opportunity, but this particular party happened to be thrown by the man who held the future of the entire city in his hand, and happened to be attended by every superhero and civilian alike–it at least promised to be interesting, even if it was practically begging for some kind of trouble. 

It’s also second nature for him to seek out Felicia in these circumstances, always a fixed axis from any point in a crowded ballroom. They had endured many a charity gala and extravagant business dinner by each other’s sides as children, snuck hundreds of bottles of expensive liquor past their parents and into garages bigger than most people’s homes–if the world was going to end at this party it was going to end where it began, ouroboros. He finds her at the bar, clad in enough jewels that he can practically feel the envy of a nearby woman in his teeth, her fingers wrapped around a glass of something nearly the same color as her lipstick, and he smiles warmly as he pours himself into the stool next to her. “I’ve been to congratulations on your divorce parties with less tension than this.” He slips his suit jacket off, rolls up the sleeves of his shirt to reveal an expensive watch on his wrist. “Who do you think is going to start the fight? My money is on Captain America, he never could take anything lying down, and Stark has been laying down for Doom since day one.” 

Victor von Doom’s — sorry, President Doom’s party — was extremely flashy. Given that New York was slowly running out of resources, panicking every civilian and hero alike with an ounce of logic in their bodies, it was amusing that the President had wasted so much of what was precious. No one seemed to be infuriated by it, but every person Felicia had spotted thus far looked at least slightly confused. Rather than give into the manic panic, Felicia preferred to remain relaxed, but aware, knowing full well that in all likelihood, trouble would arise. Whether it was started by the demons, the crowd or the President himself was what she was waiting to witness. Without the guise of Black Cat, she was unfortunately vulnerable to their whims, too, unable to make a quick escape. Ah, well, it was a small concession to attend.

Sat on a bar stool, sipping a fancier red wine, Felicia continued scanning the crowd, searching for a friendly face or a stranger interesting enough to grab her attention. When she spotted Harry coming towards her, she immediately grinned. He was easily her closest friend and closest ally, one of few that knew her secret identity, and they had suffered at countless events together. Frankly, with Harry at her side, Felicia was no longer suffering. Admitting that, however, would give him far too much fuel. “I always enjoy those parties,” she admitted. “People are bitter and enjoying themselves, it’s a unique crowd.” As he continued, Felicia leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed. “I’ll put my money on… hm, what about the Justice League as a unit? They have some wild cards in their bunch and they’re usually flashy.” It would be much more entertaining than Captain America alone, too. “Wanna dance before it all goes to hell? You know I’ve been waiting for a worthy partner all night.”

“Always have,” Kate said, laughing too. Felicia’s laughter was infectious, and not in that false, sickly-sweet way that so many of the woman they’d grown up watching had. Felicia’s laugh, at least with Kate, was always genuine. It was nice, having her at all those parties and galas, those charity events that went on forever and never seemed to really make any difference for the cause. Felicia had been a break in the monotony from the first time Kate saw her across the room. A shining, piercing gaze that said I’m different, I’m not like them, come and see. 

Kate shrugged. “Worried is a dramatic way of putting it,” she said, waving a hand in the air. “I mean, we’re the ones trapped in some hell dimension, right? They’re probably sitting on some beach resort somewhere, finally glad the black sheep is out of the picture.” It would’ve seemed unfair, had her father not, ya know, tried to kill her and Clint. “Dangerously smart,” she muttered in a low voice. She didn’t want to elaborate on that too much, so she actually accepted the change in topic. “I’m okay,” she said quickly, trying to reassure her. “Honestly, look at me. Never been better. I mean, it was no day at the spa, but I’ve totally had worse.” Lies. Being trapped in that cage, even just for a month, had been torturous. Even when the Skrulls weren’t actively torturing her, or the people around her (which arguably was worse, because Kate had felt so powerless, just watching it happen.) “It’s not a fun story. And we haven’t caught up in forever. C’mon, you must have something way more exciting to talk about than some alien futzheads, right?” 

“That makes sense,” Felicia said with a nod. It was unlikely anyone trapped outside of New York were suffering in any significant way, they had no reason to worry about them (as far as they knew). Frankly, even if her mother was in difficult circumstances, Felicia wasn’t sure she had it in her to worry. She’d always been far closer to her father for a reason. “I do have to say I’d prefer being in their position, but they don’t deserve it.” The Bishops were hardly good people and anyone willing to overlook Kate was foolish. “Maybe you need a day in the spa after that,” she replied lightly, though the meaning was clear. After Kate’s ordeal, Felicia wanted to treat her friend well. It wouldn’t heal any of the damage, Felicia knew that personally, albeit in a different manner, but it was an important (and costly) version of self-care. “I really hope you haven’t actually had worse,” she added. “I don’t think there’s anything more important than your health,” Felicia replied, tilting her head to the side. “But if you don’t want to go into details, I can come up with some interesting stories.”  

@quecnofcrime

STEVEN and Jake were part of him, had their own lives and reacted to things in their own ways–but sometimes Marc needed one of them without giving up complete control of his body. He needed Steven Grant, one of the premier antiquities dealers in the entire city, in the Museum of Natural History making lazy circles around the Ancient Egypt exhibits, with Marc Spector and by extension Moon Knight seeing through his eyes. It was easier to get his questions about the item in question answered with Steven Grant’s business card’s burning holes in the pockets of his designer jacket. It was easier to find the right person for the job of stealing that item, under the cover of Jake Lockley’s taxi cab, or in the dark corners of the bars on the wrong sides of town that he liked to drink at. 

Khonshu had woken him up from a dead sleep a couple of weeks ago, the image of a golden Ankh burning behind his eyes–a screeching half bird, half man, half something else entirely voice declaring that it belonged to him rightfully, and that it would assist the Moon Knight in channeling the power of the moon with more ease, that it was a weapon worthy of the paladin of the god of vengeance. Marc is half convinced the thing is going to turn out to be a grave robber’s ingenuity the moment it exits its museum casing, but it’s all he’s been able to think about in his spare moments–the ankh shape, practically burning with its brightness. He’s perched on a rooftop a few buildings away and he thinks he can see it in the way the moonlight filters down onto the city streets, but he’s started out of that thought when a hand touches his shoulder gently. His thief, who apparently is fond of making an entrance. 

“Black Cat,” He says as he turns around slowly. “You come highly recommended.” 

Before Felicia agreed to do a job for anyone, there was a long, complicated security process she forced them to go through. Precautionary measures were key, after all, especially when she had every intention of ensuring that Black Cat’s legacy was far more impressive than the one her father had created. He had made mistakes, one that lead him to prison, and inevitably, his death. Felicia had no intention of doing the same, both to honour his memory and because she felt passionately about the career and empire she had built for herself. Typically, she would be wary of working for any and every hero, their interests rarely aligned, but she had to admit that Moon Knight was much different from the average superhero. Not only did his morals seem more flexible, the object he wanted Black Cat to steal made perfect sense for his… theme, she supposed.

After watching him and ensuring that he was trustworthy, Felicia ultimately made the decision to work alongside him in order to achieve his goals. Not only did it prevent setups, but it would satiate her curiosity about why a vigilante would hire a famed thief to do his bidding. Admittedly, it was a first for her. Once she arrived near the museum, the night of the shipment, Felicia watched for a moment before meeting Moon Knight. It was routine for her, surveying the area around where her next heist would be, and it was a practice she never intended to ditch. Satisfied that they were largely alone, Felicia arrived at their meeting spot and gently touched Moon Knight’s shoulder. “I’m the best there is,” she said simply. “Now you can tell me more about why this object is so important to retrieve, yeah? I like honesty in my partnerships, call me old fashioned.”

It was ironic, perhaps, that the man who was dead set against teamwork ended up working with those who, to outsider perspectives, seemed the least trustworthy. Assassins, the Punisher himself, thieves and petty criminals all found themselves beside Daredevil at one time or another, but Matt found that there was something refreshing about knowing that the person you were working with didn’t want to be there just as much as you. Felicia wasn’t keen on teamwork, neither was Matt, but they knew that they needed each other. It made for an easy partnership, neither party expecting anything else at the end of it, and they could walk away confident in a job well done, knowing that the next night they would be back out on their own terms. (Besides, it would be hard for anyone to resist spending more time with Felicia. She was entertaining, more than a person had the right to be, and Matt had developed something of a soft spot for her a long time ago.)

“I think Batman seems pretty apt for me, all things considered.” Echolocation, for one, definitely seemed something that would fit in with the name, even if all of the newspapers seemed to believe the Bat was a mere human himself. “I wouldn’t be so sure. If the rumours are right, there’s some kind of fondness there for cat themed thieves.” Matt nodded once as Felicia listed off the precautions she had taken. There had never been a doubt in his mind that she would already be several steps ahead, but it still impressed him each time, a dangerous thing to feel. Matt stepped in when Felicia did, and then kneeled down, feeling the floor for vibrations of conversations and movement downstairs. Gradually, he also listened more intently. “Five security guards on the floor beneath us. Two pairs, and a single man at the end of the corridor. He’s the only one with a gun, but he only has – two bullets left. The others are tasers. Nippy enough if we get caught with them.” Matt may or may not know from personal experience.

On difficult heists, occasionally Felicia allowed one of her staff members to accompany her. Typically, they handled the business side of things, ensuring that her stolen objects were being sold to the highest (and most reliable) bidders. They were all trained in martial arts and under her tutelage, capable of breaking into any safe, building, etc., but that was a rare occurrence. Working in a team unfortunately meant jeopardizing yourself or your companions if something went wrong. Felicia liked being responsible for exactly one person, and for years, since underwent intense training, she was more than capable of ensuring her safety and success. Matt was an experienced fighter, but he was hardly exceptional at stealth (ironic considering his powers), though Felicia hoped to hone his skills during their mission. With security guards and countless other security measures, it would be much easier if they went undetected until they were ready to burn their operation to the ground.

There was a lot of room for people in this world, in this business in particular, for people who didn’t fit neatly into the hero or villain categories. Some of these people were even acknowledged: they were called anti-heroes and not as deeply despised as the villains, or they received the vigilante title without being seen as a valiant protector. And still, between all of these names and qualifications, there was more. Not just grey, but a spectrum of colors. Knowing what she did, Barbara thought that Black Cat wasn’t evil or even mean spirited, just as she wasn’t going out of her way to save people. Her skills could be useful and she wasn’t morally reprehensible. Sometimes that was all Babs needed in an ally.

Any time, she almost said, but thought better of it and instead said, “No problem.” She wouldn’t have an issue helping Black Cat with matters more personal to her own interests. As long as those interests had to do with beating up baddies who crossed her and not theft. She did have an affinity for anyone who used a grappling hook, even if there weren’t little bats at the ends. “I’m sure you can guess. I mean, you’re seeing what I’m seeing right now. You’re talented and you’re methodical. I tend to surround myself with martial arts experts and you still caught my attention. That doesn’t happen every day.”

Theoretically, Felicia didn’t solely beat up bad people for her own interests. If she came across a man trying to rob an innocent woman on the street, she stepped up. She wasn’t terrible, she had some morals, and there was a reason why she specifically stole from people in places of privilege that were far from decent. Ultimately, however, her interests came first. She had a legacy to fill and a legacy to better. Rather than continually risk her life for civilians that turned on superheroes, Felicia preferred to build her own empire, and who could blame her for that? She definitely wasn't beloved by all, but Felicia never had to worry about the public demanding safety or protection from Black Cat.

“I am those things,” she agreed, her voice light. It was a fair assessment, Felicia worked endlessly to ensure that her operation was optimal and that all of her information was valid and useful. Oracle was a smart woman, she had clearly noticed that about her and in all honesty, it was flattering. “I worked hard to get here,” she said simply, and it was true. Felicia had even made a deal with Kingpin in order to better herself as a thief and give herself more confidence. “So, now that I have your attention, what would you theoretically like me to do with it?”

Being overwhelmed had some unexpected benefits, like keeping Steve inside his apartment long before curfew began. He wasn’t shying away from the busyness of New York and it was important to him that he get so used to this century that it felt as if he had grown into it just like everyone else his age, but he had limits. Tonight wasn’t a first, though it was a rarity. “You ever try to outrun a bullet?” He still wasn’t sure what weapons they used. Guns seemed extreme, but…none of this felt normal or right. “You usually lose.” She didn’t have to follow him and he realized, vaguely and too late, that he had been a little pushy, maybe even controlling and presumptuous. But he’d take it if it meant he saved both their tails. “Yeah. Usually.” Always, ideally. Unrealistically. Although Steve was being cautious, this was far from the closest scrape he’d been in. “Sweet? I think of it more as being decent, but I’ll take the compliment.”

The man’s question brought a small, amused smile to Felicia’s face. He made an excellent point, especially since she had, in fact, attempted to run from a bullet. Shockingly, it hadn’t gone well, although when she altered the luck in the situation, it deescalated quickly. Unfortunately, it did not heal the bullet wound. “I can’t say that I have, but I have no interest in trying to,” she replied. “I think you’d be crazy for wanting to attempt that.” Many people in New York were arguably insane, reckless with their lives, but Felicia had never been one of them. There was a reason she was a thief and not a superhero. (Many reasons, including the fact that she had no desire to risk her life for other people’s.) Tucked behind the dumpster, Felicia was hoping that the man would divulge a little more about himself. Her curiosity was relentless when it came to people. “You’d be wise to. It’s not everyday people get complimented,” she replied with a shrug. “Felicia Hardy,” she introduced, holding her hand out to him in the confined space. She had worked with worse in the past.

The city might be crawling with demons, but Dick still found a little time, in between patrolling and working, to track down a couple leads of his own - specifically, about the very weird evening he’d had when Black Cat broke into his apartment. The more he read, the more confused he got, because she hadn’t lied to him - he was definitely not her usual sort of mark. Okay sure, his public persona wasn’t Nightwing, but he was a decent person, and the kinds of people she tended to go after…well, not to put too fine a point on it, they weren’t. To say that he was curious would be the understatement of the month, at least.

He’d been working his way through a list of targets that did seem to fit her profile, working out the best entrances and leaving a trail of inconspicuous cameras in his wake. Tonight, he’d happened to get lucky - not with the cameras, but with the fact that he was apparently good at picking out marks, because he’d been scoping out the best places to leave cameras outside a building when who should appear, but the elusive Black Cat. So maybe this wasn’t exactly the way he’d planned this, but he was a flexible guy. He could work with it.

He let her have a sizable lead, not wanting to get too close too soon and tip her off to the fact that she was being followed. However, he didn’t wait long, once she’d settled on a rooftop, before making his careful way over. He sat down on top of a vent, and waited to see what she’d do. Offering him food was another surprise, but he didn’t let on, just shrugged. “Thanks, but I have a taco in my utility belt. Which isn’t a euphemism, no matter how much it sounds like one, and also not as much of a funny story as I feel like it ought to be.” He thought about jumping straight into the questions he had, but waiting to see what she’d do and acting pleasant in the meantime seemed more likely to gain him some degree of trust. Which ought to be helpful when he worked his way around to ‘why did you break into Dick Grayson’s apartment?’

Honestly, Felicia didn’t know nearly as much about superheroes as she should have considering the million masks residing (and trapped in) New York City. The research she tended to throw herself into was specific, focused upon rich, privileged scum in her city, and outside of targets, Felicia had very little interest in uncovering the and routines of other people. In circumstances like these, it might have helped her. Knowing what kind of superhero Nightwing(?) was would give her an advantage, she could have gotten the first hit in, flung herself off of the rooftop with a grappling hook, or launched into conversation, but flying blind, Felicia was merely hoping for the best. Ideally, Robin(?) would be exactly like Spider-Man or Daredevil, tolerant of her and occasionally friendly — very friendly in Matt’s case — but that was to be foreseen. Unfortunately, her superpower was not divination. If it was, she would have fled a long time ago, ensuring that this encounter never took place. Things were much safer that way!

Alex laughs breathlessly as he ducks into a nearby alleyway, leaving the idiots that Doom tries to pass off as soldiers scowling and growling under their breath as they head in the opposite direction, rubbing at their still tender cosmic radiation burns. That will teach them to make awful threats just to scare people–that young mother had just wanted a breath of fresh air, and when Alex had come across the scene she had been pleading with them not to throw her in a high security detainment cell. He doesn’t feel remotely sorry for blasting them, and maybe that makes him a bad hero, or a bad X-Man, but he’s always been rough around the edges, a little too eager to throw the first punch. He chuckles and rubs at his nose where one had gotten a lucky shot in–and he’s going to have a hell of a time explaining that away to Scott later–when he looks up and notices that his alley has another occupant. 

He cranes his head and confirms a separate patrol down the street, before leaning back against the brick. He could try blasting them, but so far his power tends to go straight towards take out an entire city block when he’s in stressful situations, and there’s no way of knowing they aren’t the only ones in hiding at the moment. “Four hours is a hell of a way to lose track of time,” He says slowly, scanning the alleyway before landing on a fire escape. “Good thing that the curfew law is garbage then–here,” He stands underneath it and laces his fingers together flicks his head towards it. “Kick the ladder down to me, we can probably make it to the roof. You’re not secretly a narc right–I’m not helping you out so you can lead me into a trap?” 

On the bright side, the guy that had joined Felicia in an alleyway didn’t seem to be interested in ratting her out. There was always a chance of that, Felicia always made daring escapes when she had her Black Cat suit, but currently, she was forced to act as though she were merely a civilian. Altering her own luck occurred to her when she went to speak to the militia, but instead, the idea of getting a hero to help her seemed a little easier and a lot more fun. (There was also irony in it that Felicia had to admit she enjoyed.) “I was preoccupied, trust me,” Felicia said with a smirk. And she had been! She was in a Manhattan bar, filled with old rich men, choosing a new target. It wasn’t as exciting as what she was implying, but hopefully he wouldn’t ask any further questions if he believed she was getting laid. “It really is. Couldn’t we at least have ’til midnight?”

As the guy flew up to a fire escape, she raised her eyebrows, bemused by how quickly he jumped into action for a stranger. Typical hero mentality. Obediently, Felicia kicked the ladder down to him and laughed at his question. “Trust me, I’m not a narc in anyway. I’m Felicia Hardy by the way,” she added. “You going to tell me your name  or should I guess? I’m very creative.”

Business had gone successfully for the entirety of the night, without any unwelcome visits from demons or Doom’s militia. Typically, the locations Felicia chose were secure, tucked away in suites and apartments, but New York City was under an insane amount of surveillance. Who could blame her for being grateful that nothing was problematic? By the time she finished, it was long past curfew, but too energized to return home immediately, Felicia took to the rooftops, grappling from one to the next with a grin on her face. These were exactly the kinds of nights that she missed dearly, effortless and successful due to her planning.

“Fuck, damn right I’m surprised. When I heard it, I thought it was a joke. It’s so listen, who would ridiculous to that? We’re kids kindergarten not anymore.” He frowned. Was he speaking in a weird way? Well, weirder than usual. Abruptly, he took a hand to his head, patting at it in various places. “Oh, boy. I don’t think my brain’s big enough to handle all this blood rushing to it,” he muttered, releasing the clutch his legs had on the handrail he was currently hanging upside-down to, ungraciously toppling down and landing with a vile snap of his neck. “Ow, ow, owieee! Shit, that hurt. Walk it off, soldier,” he sighed out, clumsily standing up and using his hands to try to move his slightly bent neck back into shape. “Just a moment.” Snap! There you have it.

“Huh,” he breathed out. “Woncha look at that, I don’t feel any less dumber.” Placebo effect? Rotating his shoulders, he let out a laugh, “No, I just wasn’t part of the roleplay back then. Cut me some slack. Now,” he turned ‘serious’ as he inched in closer. “What was it you just said? We can only walk around after ten PM and some motherfuckers are coming to steal my weapons? And we’re supposed to let everyone know? Oh, mama, that’s not tickling my pickle. No one’s touching my weapons and no one’s making me stay awake past bedtime. It’s bad for your circadian cycle.” Zzzt! He glided a katana out of its scythe and was already walking off, ready to murder a bitch. “No one, you hear!? Over my dead body! HA! A joke. Live, die, laugh.”

As the man spoke, his words definitely jumbled, Felicia’s eyebrows rose and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Nope, not kids in kindergarten anymore,” she agreed. “Pretty easy to get right side up,” Felicia pointed out. When he let go of his hands and his neck snapped her eyes bulged and she covered her mouth so she didn’t outwardly panic. The soldiers would definitely come running if that happened, and as much as Felicia wanted to call the ambulance, it would be easier if she guaranteed a superhero had just — and then the man in red was speaking. “You just broke your neck,” Felicia said, sounding obviously confused. Was this one of the healers? God, there were way too many superheroes to keep track of.

“I suppose it’s difficult to feel smart while a government entity forces you into obedience, more or less,” Felicia said. She hated Doom and the limitations to their freedom, largely because it restricted her thievery and contacts. “That sums it up,” she said with a nod. As the man continued, she snickered and raised her eyebrows. “How do you intend to change any of it?” Violence wouldn’t work, the government and Doom were already aware no one appreciated their new rules. “You want me to stand off to the side and observe then? I can’t say I’m a huge fan of murder,” Felicia admitted. God, of all people to run into an alleyway without her Black Cat suit.

There were few exceptions to Matt’s rule on teamups, but lately that list had been increasing. Before, it had been strictly limited to other members of the Chaste, even if Matt refused to officially join their ranks, but now the Secret Warriors were a part of his life, Elektra was back in the land of the living, and Felicia was standing beside him now, on the same page for the first time in recent memory. Usually that would give Matt more than a little anxiety, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but tonight he was of the opinion that the worst had already happened. The city that he loved was suspended in another dimension, the president seemed powerless to return them to earth, and demons kept chilling on his fire escape. What could Felicia do that was any more surprising than that?

Of course, she had a habit of proving him wrong at the best of times. Matt smirked, amused by the grandiose in her voice. “Truly, we are the new Batman and Superman,” Matt said drily, though he was pretty convinced something had gone down with them too. Maybe it was just the Bugle - they created fights between everyone. “As a team is better than going in alone. There is the occasional moment when we work well together, isn’t there?” Tonight was slightly different than the last time Matt could’ve said that, but they would make do. “I’m not even going to insult you by asking if you can get us in undetected.”

Working with Matt wasn’t Felicia’s ideal situation. They had wildly different priorities, Matt was focused on justice, both in the mask and out, while Felicia was interested in proving that she was the best and redefining the Black Cat name. Her father had been an incredible thief, but he had ultimately failed where she would not. For an evening, she could do something that would benefit the entirety of New York’s elite (and her pocket), even if that did mean working with Matt. She never resented him, was never entirely against spending time with him — she quite enjoyed it — but relying on another person in field went against everything Felicia had spent years perfecting.

“Only if I get to be Superman,” Felicia replied smoothly. “I’m not sure Batman is a big fan of the Black Cat strangely,” she said with a smirk. Matt would obviously assume the worst, although she had ended up siding with Nightwing over the Kingpin’s demands. Matt didn’t need to know that, however, Felicia quite enjoyed his dramatics. “Depends on the situation,” she replied lightly. Typically, Felicia preferred working alone, as Matt did ironically. “I can remember once or twice, but I’m not sure it works exactly the same.” She snickered and nodded, “Security system is already disabled for the doors and windows. I’ll pick the lock,” she replied. Grappling over, when Felicia arrived on the warehouse’s rooftop, she got to work. Quickly, the lock opened and when Felicia stepped inside, as promised, no alarms sounded. “I’m not sure how many guys are in here or where exactly.” That was not Felicia’s area of expertise. Typically, she broke into empty buildings.