Uniform Stealing Board

Hello everyone! Quick warning, this story is a follow-up to the various stories of my recent collaboration with tirepanted. I suggest reading this saga beforehand in case you discover this story first. Technically, it's not a collaboration this time, but tirepanted still took part in the writing process and I thank him for his advices.




A Cat on the Hunt

**************

There are some places that simply reek of money…

… and their smell always end up catching my attention, one day or another.

The Queen’s Gem Hotel is the fancy hotel in vogue lately. I don’t know what exactly they changed in their advertisement to achieve that title. Sure, both the outside and the inside of the building are gorgeous – they’re designed to imitate the luxurious old European hotels. But the place’s accommodations aren’t better than any of the dozen other hotels designed to please the “one percent”. However, a few months ago, all the upper crust of New York started to book rooms in the Queen’s Gem. All these rich people, gathered in one place...

… A visit of your favorite cat burglar was inevitable.

That’s right. Felicia is back in business!

Sure, I made a bobble lately. I was bested by Mary-Jane (of all people). Half-bested, technically. I still came out on top in our fight. (Even if, to my greatest shame, I had to resort to a crude tactic to win. Not my best moment. I pride myself with being a bit more… classy. Promise, it was the first and last time you see me perform a wet willy. And, in my defense, MJ started it.) However, in the end, Red got the last laugh. I didn’t get my hands on the Cube. Gwen delivered it to SHIELD, and she didn’t even ask for a reward.

For shame, Gwen! For shame!

So I laid low for a while, knowing both MJ and Nick Fury wouldn’t take kindly to my attempt at double-crossing the team.

And now, I’m on my first big heist since the whole Cube debacle.

As quiet as my namesake, I’m walking the corridors of the Queen’s Gem Hotel.

Everything around me is fancy. Fancy carpeted floors. Fancy wallpapers. Furniture made of fancy wood. Fancy chandeliers. The paintings on the walls are genuine masterpieces. And I’m half-convinced the golden metal lampshades are actual gold.

I’m tempted to abandon my current mission to grab a couple of these, and sell them. However, I decide against it.

This is supposed to be Black Cat’s big return. I certainly won’t lower myself with a trite low-class robbery. I have something else in sight. I don’t know what it is yet, but according to the rumors I heard from my contact, a big transaction is supposed to happen tonight. And big transactions always involve big money. I bet it’s going to be something much more valuable than a couple of masterpieces… At the very least, it’ll be something much more challenging.

Gathering information is the first step to get my hands on whatever it is. And the first step of said first step involves this fancy hotel...

… and also the caterer currently pushing a cart of food, in the empty corridor in which I’m preparing an ambush.

I’m hidden in the janitor’s maintenance closet. In fact, I’ve been waiting for 30 minutes now. Looks like my informant was right about the caterer’s path, but not about the hour. Not a huge setback however. I came inside my hideout knowing the real janitress wouldn’t cause any trouble for the rest of the night. That cute tanned-skinned Latina brunette is indeed currently taking a nap, on the bed in the hotel room I rented under a fake name...

(Okay, I confess, I didn’t rent it. I mugged a limo driver and then her rich boss to steal the woman’s passkeys. That hotel is so select, it’d have taken me weeks to rent a room legally. Did you know rich people can have heated truck in their limos now? I’m sure the two women I mugged appreciate this accommodation, since they’re only wearing their undergarments. I hope they do – for their sake. Because they’ll have to wait a few more hours before police is informed of their predicament.)

I was kind enough to take the janitress’ night shift, even though it also meant taking her clothes. Don’t worry about the woman though. Sure I stripped her down to her green-and-white control briefs and comfort bra, and I bound her to the bed with sheets and towels, and taped her mouth. However, the blanket I used to conceal her will keep her warm and snug for the night. Of course, the awakening is going to be hard, but that’s an other problem...

The caterer on whom I have my sights now is a fairly tall young woman with a slender, curvaceous frame. She has upturned reddish brown eyes, and long straight black hair. For her hairdo, she split her hair into two parts and crossed it over her head, securing it with a white headband and forming two thick locks of hair that reach below her chest. I’d wager she has Asian origins given her facial features and skin tone color.

Of course, I’m a lot more interested in her uniform than in her prettiness. She wears a classy black caterer uniform: suit jacket, pristine button-up shirt, suit trousers, and shining shoes. The hotel’s crest is sewn on the heart of the jacket and shirt with golden threads.

When the black-haired woman passes near my hideout, I jump out of the closet, and pounce on her. I wrap a viselike arm around her throat, and locks her into a tight sleeper-hold. At the same time, I drag the struggling caterer inside the maintenance closet. I ignore the woman’s muffled pleas, knowing in a few seconds the lack of oxygen in her brain will make her fall into a dreamless slumber. I have no beef with her. The caterer herself is only a mean to an end – like the janitress, the guest, and the limo driver. The much-needed tickets to reach my real target. Nothing personal.

Hey! Don’t judge me! After my stunt at Kingpin’s baddies gathering, I think I’ve already done my good deed of the year!

The caterer’s body relaxes when she passes out, and she slumps into my arms. I lay her onto the floor, and pulls the food cart inside the maintenance closet. Thankfully, the room is big enough to accommodate for all of us.

I swiftly divest the caterer of her uniform: pulling off the shoes, slipping the trousers down her legs, removing the suit jacket, unbuttoning and taking off the shirt. The black-haired woman is left clad in black socks, seamless black tanga panties, and a white push-up bra. All undergarments have a pattern of little strawberries.

Food-themed underwear for a caterer… How rich...

I find a couple of cables, coils of sturdy strings, and a few clean rags in a closet. I use the cables and strings to bind the caterer’s ankles and wrists. Then I cleave-gag and blindfold her with rags.

I stash the caterer inside a locker, in a seated position, and close the door to conceal her. Then I take off my janitress uniform, and slip into the caterer’s outfit. I tie my hair into a professional-looking ponytail. The devil is in the details...

I hide all the remaining cables, strings, and rags in the cart, and also check the food. Roasted guinea fowl and champagne. Someone wants to have a fine meal... On the cart, there is also a passkey opening the hotel’s penthouse.

I smile. I have a much-needed appointment with its guest.

Though I wager she’ll soon wish I didn’t visit her...

**************

Miranda Kalte isn’t an important face in New York’s underground. She’s under the radar of the super-heroes, and even the police rarely pays attention to her, since they have way bigger fish to fry. Paradoxically, her small-scale unimportance makes her a very successful trafficker. She runs a semi-legal shipping company, legal enough to not be considered a criminal by most authorities, which she uses as a front. Her specialty? The trafficking of rare animals (living or dead, whole or bits of them.)

Not the kind of person I hold dear in my heart...

The woman herself is the very definition of a ‘Silver Vixen’. She’s 50, and her hair have turned grey years ago. However, a healthy lifestyle, regular sport exercises, (and some discreet plastic surgery), have allowed her to keep a thin body; and a smooth face, with just enough wrinkles around her icy blue eyes to make her look distinguished. Instead of hiding her grey hair, she’s highlighting them. She asked her hairdresser to apply silver grey dye on the last remaining non-grey locks. Her elaborate chignon is smoothly wrapped at the base of the neck with gold pins.

She’s wearing a gorgeous shining ruby red long dress, warm brown tights, and black high-heels. When I see her looking regal, in tailor-made clothes which highlight her curves, I don’t have a hard time imagining her still having a lot of success among men – including young ones.

I enter the room with my cart. Miranda puts the books she was reading onto the nearby table.

“You’re late.”

“Apologies, madame. I got tied up in work. I had to contend with a guest who simply wouldn’t let me go here.” I confess I’m a bit proud of my double-meaning.

However, my clever word play is lost on Miranda. “I’ve rarely seen such incompetent room service. Don’t expect a tip.”

“Not a problem. I expected a chat anyway. You’re such a powerful businesswoman after all...”

Miranda smiles lightly. Apparently, she isn’t immune to flattery.

“At least you know how to speak to people, I’ll give you that.”

“I just love speaking with women of power. My meeting with them are often… enriching. In more ways than one may think.” I finish pushing the cart in the middle of the room, and grab the bottle of champagne. “However, I’m more interested in the other side of your business. The one you don’t want the cops to know about.”

Miranda’s smile disappears. “If I was you, I’d stop talking about things you don’t understand.”

I smile, and grab the bottle’s cork. “Good thing I’m not you then… Because I REALLY want to know more about this transaction you organized tonight in New York... The illegal one...”

“Ridiculous. You’re out of your mind. Leave this room at once.” Miranda retorts.

At the same time, I notice she’s slowly putting her hand inside her purse to grab something.

Predictable. She probably thinks she’s out of my reach…

When Miranda pulls a small handgun out of her purse, I prove her wrong by letting go of the champagne cork. I’ve made sure to shake the bottle before entering the room. The cork was just begging to be released. Propelled by the carbon dioxide, it hits Miranda in the head with as much strength as if I had used a slingshot.

The corrupt businesswoman yelps and recoils, more out of surprise than out of pain, and loses me from her line of sight.

I grab the metal cover of the food cart, and lunge forward.

Miranda recovers in time to aim at me while I’m rushing towards her, but in one swoop I hit her hand with the metal cover, and she drops her handgun.

I hit her a second time with the metal cover, this time aiming at the left temple.

The blow dazes her. I take advantage of this, drop the metal cover, and swiftly move behind her. One hit of the hand’s edge to the neck knocks Miranda out. With a grunt, the woman falls face down on the carpeted floor.

Sure, it seems to go against my plan to interrogate the businesswoman. But I can’t question her if she tries to shoot or claw me with her fake nails. I need to make sure she doesn’t cause any fuss. I have something to wake her up later.

First, I start by removing Miranda’s dress, shoes, and tights. I leave the businesswoman clad in ruby red French-cut panties with a lace-adorned waiststrap, and a matching frilly blouze bra also adorned with lace.

If you wonder why I bother with stealing her clothes, I can think of two reasons. First, Number 1 rule to assert your dominance in front of a prisoner. You wear her clothes in front of her. Second, I can’t leave the hotel dressed as a caterer, and it saves me a trip back to my rented (well, stolen) room.

Too bad Miranda’s tailor-made dress isn’t a good fit… However, having the opportunity to wear priceless clothes has no price.

I then carry the motionless Miranda, and sit her onto a chair. I grab some of the cables and strings I brought with me, and bind her securely to the chair. I bind her wrists behind her back, then tie her thighs against the seat. Next, I bind her ankles together. Finally, I wrap strings around her torso and shoulders and the chair’s back to pin her against the chair.

I remove the caterer uniform, and slip into Miranda’s clothes.

The setup is perfect. (Too bad the fit isn’t...)

I use some smelling salts to wake Miranda up from her nap.

The businesswoman shrieks, and sits straight. She shakes her head to recover her senses. Then she realizes her predicament. Her face becomes bright red of anger and embarrassment. She glares daggers at me.

“How- How dare you?! Do you know who I am?!”

I take a bite of the delicious roasted guinea fowl Miranda had planned to eat before I answer. Number 2 rule to assert your dominance in front of a prisoner: You eat their food.

“Of course I know. That’s why I assaulted you and took your clothes in the first place. Ask a better question.”

“What do you want?”

I take a sip of champagne – just a sip, I still have lots of work tonight. I wish it was a milkshake. The scene works better with a milkshake.

“Now, that’s a good question. I want information. About tonight’s transaction you helped organize.”

“You’re wasting your time! I won’t talk! I know my rights. What you’re doing is highly illegal.”

“No more questions already? You didn’t even ask the important ones. Like: ‘Are you really a cop?’” I grab the meat knife. “Or: ‘What are you gonna do to me if I don’t cooperate?’ Because the answers, respectively, are: ‘No.’ and ‘You don’t want to know about it.’”

The red on Miranda’s face slowly disappears, and turns into a ghostly white, as she realizes I’m not a cop and therefore doesn’t follow any rule. I can almost picture the wheels turning in her brain as she slowly starts suspecting I’m a fellow criminal. Of course, I don’t mention I’m of the anti-heroine type.

Finally, Miranda confesses. “One party is a collector of rare animals and trophies. A regular client of mine. I don’t know his real name. It’s something we’ve agreed on when we started our collaboration. It makes it harder to trace us. The other party is new. It’s the first time I do business with them. They also used fake IDs.”

“And what do they want to exchange?”

“I don’t know. I just secured them for a safe area to meet.”

“Perfect. Then you can point the location to me. I’ll pay them a visit.”

Miranda gulps, and hesitates, but ultimately breaks when she sees me cut the guinea fowl veeeeeery slowly. She fesses up.

Said location is an empty alleyway in a poor district of the town. Not too far away from the hotel actually – I bless my stroke of luck. Never underestimate the power of dumb luck!

“Cliché, much?” I comment while rolling my eyes. Still, I learned everything I wanted.

I hide a grimace when I stand up. I certainly don’t want Miranda to understand her outfit is too tight for me! A girl’s gotta have some pride! (I hope I’ll be this fit when I turn 50...)

I grab a thick rag, and cleave-gag the corrupt businesswoman before she has the time to utter a cliché line such as ‘You won’t get away with this!’.

“Thank you for your cooperation.” I conclude.

Miranda moans threats and curses in her gag, but I don’t pay her any attention. Once you heard one villain’s threats, you’ve heard them all. They get tiresome real quick...

Instead, I focus on trying to walk in these tight high-heels.

Leaving the building in this dress and shoes is going to be awkward, but I can manage it the time to exit the hotel. Hopefully, nobody will see me anyway at this time of the night.

Still, the perfectionist in me can’t help but wish I could find better clothes...

My train of thoughts is interrupted when someone enters the penthouse.

She’s a tall young woman in her mid-twenties. She has bobbed hair of a light blond color, and a long fringe covering much of the right side of her face, worn swept behind her left ear. Her eyes are icy blue, and she has a pale complexion. She has sharp facial features.

The newcomer shares a resemblance with Miranda. I suppose she’s Fiona Kalte, the eldest daughter and heiress.

Fiona doesn’t notice us immediately, as she’s running her eyes over a sheet of paper on the paperclip she’s carrying.

“Mother. I’m sorry to interrupt your day-off, but you’ve received an urgent message form your client about-”

Miranda’s daughter finally notices her mother’s predicament.

“Oh.”

At the same time, I notice she’s my size.

Fiona is wearing a dark blue duffle coat with two columns of four black buttons, black shorts gloves, shining black corduroy trousers, and dark grey ankle boots.

I smile. Who said black cats brought bad luck? Well, maybe bad luck to their enemies, because tonight I’m particularly lucky.

“Please, come in. The food is getting cold. Make yourself comfortable. Start by removing your clothes. They look unpractical.”

I grab a fork, and puts on a show of placing its points right next to Miranda’s jugular vein.

“I suppose your don’t like rare meat.”

I admit the threat is cold, but no goody-two-shoes is here to lecture me. Now, would I really do it? The answer is no, but Fiona and Miranda don’t know it.

This is a moot point anyway. Even if Fiona decides she wants her mother out of the picture to inherit the company sooner, I run faster than her. The penthouse is isolated – I can catch up with her long before she can call for help.

Though it seems the moral dilemma won’t get answered today. Apparently, Miranda was a kind and caring parent, because her daughter isn’t willing to risk her mother’s life – even if it means potentially inheriting a multi-million dollars company.

“Okay.”

Fiona closes the door, and unbuttons her duffle coat before hanging it onto a chair. Underneath, she wears a beige cashmere sweater with long sleeves. She also takes off her gloves, and puts them on the table.

When she stops stripping, I roll my eyes. “Did I stutter? I asked you to remove your CLOTHES. All of them.”

Fiona’s cheeks become red. “A- All of them?”

“I’m not a monster. You can keep the underwear, but I want everything else. Chop, chop.”

Miranda’s daughter hesitates, but then follows my instructions nonetheless, and unstraps her ankles boots before kicking them away. Then she unbuckles her belt, and slips her trousers off her legs before stepping out of them. Finally, she grabs her cashmere sweater, and pulls it off. True to my word, I let her keep her sky blue socks, dark blue bikini panties, and navvy blue underwire bra.

Next to me, Miranda is literally shaking with rage. “H’ll mhkh yhh phh!” she groans in her gag.

“Get in line.”

**************

Once Miranda’s precious little princess is down to her skivvies, I instruct her to sit on a chair.

I use some of my last remaining cables and strings to bind her to the chair in a way similar to her mother. Then, I shove a thick rag in her mouth and wrap an otm-gag around her lower face to silence her.

I drag Fiona’s chair behind Miranda, and move them to place the mother and daughter back to back. I wrap and tie a long string around both women’s waists at the same time to bind them back to back. That way, I know they won’t be able to easily hop on their chairs across the room.

“Mhhhhh…” Fiona quitely mumbles in her gag.

“SLHHHHHT! BHHHHHTCHHHH!” Miranda is angrily groaning.

I ignore their moans and mewls as I drop Miranda’s outfit onto the floor, and then slip into Fiona’s clothes.

Between that duffle coat and me, it’s love at first sight. I do a twirl to show off my new outfit.

Fiona groans a little louder – though still not as loud as her mother.

I wink at her, and goes to the door. “Enjoy your mother-and-daughter bonding moment.” I conclude.

My joke is met by two moans of exasperation.

Then I leave the pair to their predicament.

**************

After I leave the Queen’s Gem Hotel, I go to a secluded area, then take the time to pull off Fiona’s clothes, and to slip back into my Black Cat costume and mask. The rest of the night will involve plenty of sneaking in and jumping from roof to room. Fiona’s clothes are deliciously expensive, but unsuited for my usual acrobatics. Plus, I need all my gadgets – cat-light, retractable claws, grappling hook...

I leave Fiona’s clothes where I can fetch them later. I love this duffle coat. No way I’m not keeping it.

It takes me quite the jog to reach the meeting point before the transaction starts, but travel is always quicker when one uses neat gadgets and acrobatics to jump from roof to roof.

When I arrive at my destination, I turn quiet, and observe from a nearby roof.

One group involved in the trade is already here. I spot a few figures trying to be discreet in the alleyways nearby. I silently jump from my roof, and hide behind a bunch of garbage cans.

I suppress a noise of disgust when I get a better look at the men and women assembled.

They’re all wearing the same type of uniform: a distinctive green-and-yellow garb featuring a serpent motif, with yellow gloves and boots. The face is concealed under a cowl-like mask and tinted goggles. Around the waist, there is a utility belt with several gadgets – including a bunch of handcuffs, a walkie-talkie, and weapons.

HYDRA. One of the most despicable evil organizations I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting – and that’s saying a lot.

I notice the squad leader talking privately with a female foot soldier armed with a sniper rifle. I approach under the cover of two rusty dumpsters to listen to their conversation.

“You’ll stand guard on the roof. Put this on.” He gives her an earpiece. “I have a hidden microphone on me. You’ll be able to hear everything he says. If he tries to double-cross us, shoot him.”

The woman salutes like a soldier. “Hail, HYDRA.”

“Hail, HYDRA.”

She walks away, and enters a small dark alleyway.

I recognize an opportunity when I see one… After checking the commander doesn’t look in my direction, I swiftly – and silently – follow my new prey in the dark of the alleyway.

Just as the sniper grabs the first rung of the ladder leading to the building’s roof, I tap her shoulder.

“Excuse me?” I say politely.

Even the soldier of an evil organization can’t help but reflexively turn her head to answer.

PUNCH!

My fist gives her a first-class ticket to slumberland.

Afterwards, dragging the HYDRA soldier behind some trash cans and stripping her is routine. It’s not my first tango with the organization, and I’m used to strip goons of their tacky uniforms. HYDRA itself is maybe one of the most dangerous conspiracies out there, but their uniforms are still too awkward to leave one’s dignity intact.

The removed garb reveals a plain mousy-looking brunette with curly short hair and a tanned skin. The kind of woman who you’d imagine more working as a discreet secretary or a shy librarian.

It’s what they say. They look like everyone else.

The HYDRA sniper is wearing ruby red socks, emerald green boyshorts, a sapphire blue sports bra and a diamond white tank top. As a thief, I can only validate her choice of colours.

I grab the two pairs of handcuffs strapped onto the discarded weapon belt, and use them to bind the woman’s wrists behind her back, then to bind her ankles. I gag her with her socks, and a thick kerchief turned into a cleave-gag.

I locate a nearby dumpster, and throw the bound-and-gagged HYDRA footsoldier inside. A fitting place for her…

Next, I remove my Black Cat outfit, hide it in an alcove, and put on the HYDRA uniform, mask and goggles. I grab the discarded sniper rifle, and climb the ladder.

Once I’m on the building’s roof, I check the street below. Finally, I can get a good look at the trade that’s about to take place.

The HYDRA agents are waiting around a van and what seems to be a cage, which for now is covered with a tarp.

Thankfully, they don’t have to wait long.

A couple of vans arrive, and park in front of the HYDRA squad. A group of people exit it.

I suppress a shiver of pure fear when I recognize the tribal-like paintings, and the fur pelts of the Hunters working for Sergei Kravinoff – better known as Kraven the Hunter.

I know it’s not like me to act like a scaredy cat, if you pardon the expression, but trust me... They captured me for one of their ‘hunts’ once. I still have nightmares about it.

Their leader himself is here, looking as intimidating as I remember.

So this is what’s going on… A transaction between HYDRA and Kraven, with Miranda acting as the middlewoman. But what could they be trading?

Kraven approaches the cage. He doesn’t waste time with salutations.

“Are they inside?”

It’s funny a man so dangerous speaks with such a quiet voice.

The squad leader’s microphone works perfectly. I can hear everything that’s said even though they are floors under.

“Take a look. Be my guest.” the HYDRA commander retorts.

Kraven is a man of few words. Without adding anything, he removes the tarp hiding the cage.

I bite my lower lip to not let out an exclamation of surprise.

The cage doesn’t have bars. Instead, it has transparent Plexiglas-like walls – though even sturdier than normal Plexiglas, I’d wager. Inside the cage, there are Peter, Gwen, and Miles. Even from above, I can recognize them because they’re still in costume. (I suppose this was Kraven’s demand. The man doesn’t care to know the Spider-People’s true identities. He simply wants to hunt them.) They look conscious, but the cage is too small for them to stand up, so they’re forced to remain crouched.

Kraven caresses the cage, almost amorously. “Finally… A proper hunt...”

“It wasn’t easy. We didn’t appreciate much you giving us a deadline.” the HYDRA squad commander intervenes, upset to be so blatantly ignored. “We only captured them tonight. We almost weren’t able to make it on time. I hope you have what we want.”

Kraven makes a gesture of the hand. One Hunter hands the man a briefcase full of vials.

“Samples of the Lizard serum. As promised.” Kraven comments, without taking his eyes off Peter and his friends.

The HYDRA squad leader takes the briefcase. “I’m glad to see there are still reasonable people in New York. Most of the criminals of this city don’t like doing business with us. Something stupid about them having standards.”

This time, Kraven deigns looking at him. He smiles softly. “I don’t care if someone is a good or a bad man… I only care if they’re a worthy prey…”

While they talk, my mind is racing. Maybe I can climb down the building discreetly, and then try to open the cage’s lock while they’re busy patting themselves in the back.

It’s not like me to take such an impulsive risk, but truly the risk would be calculated. Peter and his friends are awake and conscious. If the cage is open, they’ll jump into the fray immediately. The Hunters and HYDRA soldiers aren’t opponents to scoff at, but three Spider-People are more than a match for them. And after I did my Good Deed of the Day, I can take advantage of the chaos to flee.

However, just as I’m calculating the acrobatics I’d need to reach the street below, Kraven lets out a whistle.

Then, without any hesitation or superfluous moves, he draws his hunting knife, and plunges it into the HYDRA squad leader’s chest. The guy dies before his brain can even register any pain. He barely has the time to gasp before his corpse becomes limp.

At the same time, all his Hunters attack the remaining footsoldiers with knives. In ten seconds flat, all the HYDRA agents are dead.

Kraven shakes his head, removes his knife, and allows the corpse to fall onto the ground. “Unworthy.” Apparently, he’s part of the criminals who have standards when it comes to HYDRA...

I resist the urge to gag. I have a strong stomach. But even I am surprised by the suddenness and the brutality of the betrayal.

It’s also at that moment I realize Kraven is smart enough to anticipate HYDRA would station a sentry on the roof… and to take the necessary precautions.

I feel a brief tingling in the back of my neck.

I turn just in time to dodge the knife. A Hunter has managed to sneak behind me!

My eyes widen. I realize that, even with my acute feline-like ears, I didn’t hear anything. That woman is good!

The Hunter attacks again, and I’m forced to back away. I don’t even attempt to fight back. I focus all my efforts on dodging the blows. In a fair battle, I may have had a chance. However, this battle is everything but fair. I’ve been ambushed. I have a hard time recovering my momentum. My opponent knows it, and keeps putting pressure on me. Her knife gives her the advantage in terms of reach.

Of course, I won’t cast stones at the Hunter. I also never give my enemy a fair chance when I have the choice…

I realize my safest option is to flee – right here, right now, before other Hunters come to help their friend.

I can’t help but briefly glance at the distant figures of the captured Peter, Gwen, and Miles.

Sorry guys. If I flee now, I may live to help later. If I die here… well, then I can only play dead. At least, Kraven’s hunts can take a long time if you’re talented enough – I know it firsthand. Maybe long enough for me to find a rescue plan...

Questions for later. For now, I should focus on what’s the most important. Like not getting a knife through the throat. Fortunately, I have a neat little trick.

A little smoke bomb. Painfully boring and unoriginal, but you can’t argue with results.

I don’t bother with quips when throwing it onto the roof. Quipping allows the Hunter to kill you faster.

The woman is barely affected. Sure, the smoke takes her by surprise, but she’s used to that kind of trick. She changes her stance, ready to counter an eventual attack.

Of course, I never attack. I take advantage of the three seconds it takes her to realize that to put as much distance between she and I.

Three seconds, and the cover of the smoke, are all I need.

I’m now away from the crime scene, running as if the demons of hell were chasing me – which, given the fact we’re talking of the Hunters, is actually an accurate description.

However, I still have the earpiece in my ear. And Kraven is still standing near the squad leader – within shot of the guy’s hidden microphone.

“Forget about that sheep. Load the Spiders. We’re leaving. Regroup at the adventure park.”

He must be talking to the Hunter chasing after me. Thank God! I also mentally take note he gave me an information. There aren’t that many adventure park. I can deduce which one he’s referring to.

**************

After losing the Hunters, I choose to not take any risk and don’t try to recover my Black Cat costume. Instead, I return where I left Fiona’s clothes, and put them on. I keep the boots of the HYDRA uniform, as they are more practical to jump from building to building than the rich girl’s expensive ankle boots. Her other clothes aren’t exactly made for parkour either, but they are comfortable enough to not hamper my movements. They’ll most likely get ripped, but I don’t care. Given what’s at stake, preserving the duffle coat doesn’t feel important anymore. I wrap the HYDRA utility belt around my waist, to have a way to still carry my Black Cat tools, then I leave.

I hear sirens in the distance. Police is already arriving on the premises of Kraven’s slaughter. They were fast for once. Though I already know they’ll be too late to save Peter and the others.

They’ll probably find the footsoldier I mugged. (During my flight, I noticed nobody had touched the dumpster in which she was concealed.) However, I doubt she knows anything about Kraven’s plan. Therefore, the police can’t help. They’ll just arrest the HYDRA henchwoman, and call it a day.

Girl… You’ll probably never know it, but I just saved your life... I grimly think to myself.

I don’t care much for HYDRA. Anyone willingly working for them has to be a pretty shitty human being to begin with.

However, their grim fate reminds me that, this time, my opponents aren’t a bunch of costumed clowns.

Kraven’s Hunters are dangerous. They live and die for the thrill of hunting the most dangerous preys of all – exceptionally strong (and often super-powered) humans.

Bottom-line, they’re the worst match-up possible for me. They excel at trailing lone elusive preys. Even worst, they know how I operate. I had already had to tangle with them once. It was enough to convince me to never pick a fight with them unless I can’t avoid it…

I confess a part of me is briefly tempted to cut my losses. But only a part. And only briefly.

I sigh. Damn you Peter… Things were easier when I was a supervillainess… Having a conscience is such a bummer sometimes!

I just wanted an easy heist with no moral dilemma! I come in, knock out a few girls, steal their clothes, and then make off with the loot under the moonlight like some cool ninja. Is that too much? Life isn’t fair sometimes...

I have to save them. They’re my friends. Plus, when I was in their situation, they helped me.

I can’t believe I’m about to do something so disinterested. I have to be careful, or soon I may find myself dressed as a girl scout selling cookies for charity works…

I try to feel reassured by reminding myself of Kraven’s Lizard serum samples, and that I could sell them to SHIELD, and that OBVIOUSLY rescuing Peter and his friends is just a bonus. However, deep down inside, I know which one is the true pretense.

(Now of course, I still intend to do both if I can. It’s just… I know which one is my priority.)

**************

Once I’m sure I’m out of Kraven’s reach, I briefly ponder my options. Should I chase after the Hunters immediately, or should I go to my nearest hideout to put on a spare catsuit and gear up?

I calculate the time I have. Kraven wants his hunts to be perfect. And from what he said about the “adventure park”, I think I know where he’s heading. In-between the trip and the preparations of the area, I have a couple of hours. Given how good Peter and the others are, I estimate even if the hunt begins before I save them, I’d still have time to catch up with them.

I ultimately decide to gear up first.

A dense goody-two-shoes may run head-first after Kraven, but being a cold rational anti-heroine has its advantages. Against the Hunters, there’s no room for error. Having a good equipment can make the difference between life and death.

I rent several apartments in key parts of the city – an other reason why I simply can’t stop my heists, no matter how much Peter pressures me. Gotta pay for all of them!

I quickly run to my nearest hideout. From the roofs, the trip is actually quite short all things considered. Fiona’s clothes are sadly a bit ripped by the time I arrive, but it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.

So long, duffle coat…

… and hello spare Black Cat costume. You’re less classy, but you’re better suited for what I have in mind.

(And yes, I have several tailor-made identical Black Cat outfits. You take me for a pig pen who always wears the same set of clothes?)

Thank the fact I regularly mug women for their clothes! Now, I’m able to change outfit in record time.

I grab a small backpack, and fill it with zip-ties, ropes, and rolls of tape, plus a few extra lockpicks and various other thief tools. I also take a bunch of wigs of different colors. Hunters are very perceptive when it comes to details. A wrong hair color could be spotted immediately.

Changing clothes and gearing up allow me to think clearly of the situation. The Hunters may be too much for me. Their merciless slaughter of the HYDRA soldiers, and that Hunter taking me by surprise, are both reminders I stand little chance if I stay on my own.

As much as I hate to admit it, I need help.

I need to do something that will take the Hunters by surprise. Not coming alone is the first thing that comes to my mind. I need to bring with me someone they’re not used to fight. Preferably someone they don’t know, but who is strong enough to put up a fight against them.

(Also, someone who could be used as a decoy, and as a meat shield when tranquilizer darts will inevitably start flying…)

And I have to find that special someone in half-an-hour top.

The question is… Who?

Warning! Due to some issues, I had to split the story into two posts.










































**************

Mary-Jane Watson rents a cheap apartment on the sixth floor of a decrepit building, but for a cat burglar of my caliber six floors are like a walk in the park. Opening the window from the outside is also child’s play – the thing doesn’t even have a security system. Unless you consider rust a proper defense.

I silently enter the apartment, and use my cat-light to briefly scan the place.

As a thief, I have a keen eye when it comes to gauging someone’s wealth by looking at their home. This is the exact opposite of the places I’m looking for my heists.

All the pieces of furniture, and most of the clothes, are second-hand at best. The only things worth something are the computer, graphics tablet, drawing tools, and camera – logical since Mary-Jane needs them for her part-time jobs. And even they are far from the most expensive versions out there.

Mary-Jane herself is currently sleeping in her baggy faded pink pajamas, on a sofa-bed most likely bought to save the money needed for both a sofa and a bed. She’s lying spread-eagle on her back.

When I hear the redhead’s faint snores, I wonder why Peter is pining over her. No, it’s not out of jealousy. More like… morbid curiosity. Mary-Jane Watson is a bundle of blusters and insecurities. She’s way too self-conscious to even think of dating a Spider-Man. If I was a betting girl, I’d wager she is the loser among the Mary-Janes across the multiverse. The one nobody invites at ‘alternate counterparts gatherings’. (Well, since I assume the other Mary-Janes are goody-two-shoes too, perhaps they’d still invite her. But only out of pity.)

I spot the glass of water on the nearby coffee table (which given the stains is also often used for breakfast and diner). I grab it. I admit I’m about to enjoy what comes next a lot more than I should…

“WAKE UP SLEEPYHEAD!”

And I pour the water on her face.

Mary-Jane jumps, with a shriek so loud I’m surprised she doesn’t break the glass with her voice.

“WHO AND THE WHAT?!”

I’m careful to take several steps back. Better make sure I can explain the situation to her before she resorts to violence.

Mary-Jane notices me. “YOU?!”

I raise my hands to show I came in peace. “Easy now, Red. I’m not here to fight. I need-”

She let out a war cry, and lunges at me.

I dodge her attack easily. She’s still groggy after her abrupt awakening.

“it took Gwen two hours to find me! This time, I break your kneecaps for real!” the redhead barks.

Again with that threat. Does she have a kneecap fetish or what?

“Can’t we talk like civilized people? You think I’d take the risk of coming here without a good reason?”

Of course, she doesn’t listen, and grabs a nearby device lying under the table. I feel a brief hint of worry when I notice it’s gun-shaped, but I’m reassured when I see there are electrodes at the end. One of SHIELD’s brand new stun guns. Probably a gift Nick Fury gave her after she helped foil Kingpin’s latest plan.

Well, reassured… From a certain point of view, of course. If she touches me with that thing, I’m gonna have a rough time.

I decide the direct approach is the best course of action with someone as basic as her.

I kick the small table in her legs to unbalance her. Then, during the seconds she needs to recover her momentum, I shout: “Gwen, Peter, and Miles are in danger!”

“What?”

She stops her assault mid-lunge, and takes a defensive stance. She’s clearly wary. Well, at least she’s not trying to jolt me with red lightning anymore. I have her attention, and quickly takes advantage of the situation.

“Kraven’s looking for a new hunt. He’s managed to get his hands on them.”

There is a moment of silence.

Mary-Jane ponders my reveal, trying to find out if I’m lying or not. Thankfully for me, Red is thick-headed, but she’s not an idiot. She knows I’d never face Kraven for money – not after the latest hunt. And she knows I have nothing to win by begging her for help. I always work alone. Taking her with me would put me at a disadvantage if I had a mere heist in mind.

“Even if it’s true… Why do you care?” she finally asks.

“Hey! One can be a thief and a friend at the same time!”

I admit I’m more offended than I thought I’d be. Objectively, Mary-Jane has every right to distrust me. Even I am surprised I care about Peter and his friends so much. Enough to help them with no strings attached.

(Now, I confess if I can snag the samples of Lizard serum in the process, I won’t mind. I still need a way to cajole Nick Fury so that he gets police off my back.)

“Listen. It’s not because I betray them sometimes for my own interests I don’t like them– That came out wrong. Let me rephrase that. I maybe look out for my own interests first and foremost, but I’d never do it in a way that’d bring them harm. The hunt is planned tonight. Right now, only I can do something to help them in time. And I need your help.”

Mary-Jane glares in silence. I can almost picture the wheels turning in her brain. She knows how much it costs me to ask someone for help – especially her.

“I’ll get dressed.”

She takes off her pajamas to grab a couple of casual clothes.

She must have worked late, because she didn’t even bother to take off her underwear before going to bed.

When I accidentally get a look at her skivvies however, I recoil in disgust. “Are you wearing… Screwball-themed underwear?”

Mary-Jane’s face becomes as red as her hair. She hurriedly put on a t-shirt and a pair of trousers to conceal the white-and-fuchsia boyshorts and sports bra (white-and-fuchsia abominations as far as I’m concerned).

“Hey! They’re comfortable and aerodynamic!” she justifies herself.

“Please tell me you didn’t steal them when you mugged Screwball…”

“I BOUGHT them!”

“You can barely afford your rent, but you also spend money for Screwball’s overpriced junk?!”

Mary Jane puts on socks, and sneakers. “It was part of my cover as a fan of hers. To lure her into a trap. Can we please drop the subject? We have bigger fish to fry. I thought you, of all people, would know things are serious when Kraven’s involved.”

“Force of habit. I prefer to defuse the situation. Worrying myself will only make me lose focus.”

MJ finishes getting dressed by slipping into a dull grey jacket, and concealing her red hair under a matching beanie. She puts on sneakers.

I look at my partner from the head to the toe. Fully dressed in her own clothes, Mary-Jane looks a sorry sight. And I’m saying that without any mean-spirited intent. Her trousers are patched, her sneakers are faded, her beanie is threadbare, and her jacket has also seen better days. No wonder she favors infiltration and stealing other women’s clothes…

Still, I notice she chose dull grey clothes – a good color to blend in the city at night. Mary Jane Watson is always broke, but she’s a broke professional.

The redhead notices I’m observing her. She raises her chin, and looks me in the eyes, daring me to say something.

I don’t comment on her appearance. As I said, I’m not mean-spirited. I certainly won’t make fun of a girl because she struggles to make end meets. Contrary to what you may think, I don’t hate Mary-Jane.

Ticking her off is just too amusing...

**************

The destination I have in mind is in the city’s outskirts. On foot, we’d never have made it on time. Thankfully, Mary-Jane owns a car.

Though calling the thing a ‘car’ may be too kind… It looks more like a wreck which, somehow, is still able to move.

“So do you know where they’re heading?” Mary-Jane asks while driving.

“I keep tabs on every areas Kraven may use for his hunts. So that I know which places I should be wary of. I heard him mention an adventure park to his goons when they left. Near New York, there’s only one place that matches the description, and that can also be reached in time to still mount a hunt tonight. Adventure Paradise, the abandoned adventure theme park.”

Even with a car, it takes us a little time – I suspect Mary-Jane refuses to drive too fast for fear that her wreck would fall apart. Thankfully for us, Kraven’s doesn’t want improvised amateurish hunts. Everything has to be perfect. I estimate we have a couple of hours before he starts.

We stop the car before the theme park is within sight, and do the last part of the trip on foot, through some fields. I’m quite certain watchers are stationed near the main road.

I show my partner an article on my phone. “I read online the owner still pays someone to watch the area at night. She’s most likely not in on Kraven’s plan, but I don’t want her to interfere. Kraven may choose to execute Peter and the others if someone calls the police.”

Mary-Jane steps in front of me. “Oh no! I see where this is going! There’s no way I’ll help you mug that poor woman who’s just doing her job!”

I groan internally. God! Those heroic types can be so dense sometimes! I tap her forehead with one finger.

“Think! Where do you think she’ll be the safest? Doing her rounds and coming across the Hunters? Or safely hidden somewhere while we take care of the baddies?”

Mary-Jane complains under her beard. If the stakes weren’t so high, she’d probably have argued further. But since Gwen and the others are in danger, she begrudgingly agrees to follow my plan.

**************

A small house-like building at the entrance of the abandoned park is used as a lodge for the watchwoman. When MJ and I approach the place, the light is on. There’s someone inside. The tilt window is open, which allows me to listen to what’s going as I also take a glance.

Inside the building, there is one main room with a table, and a few comfortable chairs. In a corner, there is a small kitchen room. At the other side, a closed door must lead to the toilet room.

The night watchwoman is alone – as expected. She’s already changed into her uniform. Unlucky her.

The guard is wearing black sneakers, light brown trousers, a black belt, a beige short-sleeved button up shirt, a light brown button up uniform jacket, and a brown cap with the park’s logo.

Her casual clothes are hanging on a chair. I notice a long neckscarf which will be perfect to gag her once I’m done.

The woman is a strawberry blond young woman with a light skin, and sky blue eyes. Her mid-back-long curly hair are tied into two low ponytails. She clearly doesn’t strike me as a physical fighter. While her body is fit, probably thanks to a healthy diet, she clearly doesn’t have a lot of muscle. In a one-on-one fight, I’d defeat her with one hand tied behind my back. And I wouldn’t even break a sweat.

Currently, she’s talking on her cellphone.

“No, no, can’t go at tonight’s party. Got myself a new job. Like, the easiest job ever. You know that old adventure theme park? I’m paid to watch it at night… … … … No. I’m not scared. I took martial arts class. I’m, like, a ninja now.” She starts to throw punches in the air. “Oah! Hayah! Hayah!”

God this is embarrassing… I better deal with her quickly, before she ridicules herself some more.

The night guard checks her wristwatch.

“So sorry, but I’ll have to hang up. Time to do the mid-night round.”

Ah! That’s my cue!

I go to the door, and wait in the blind spot of the peephole on the door.

“What are you doing?” MJ asks.

“Hush! Just watch.”

The night guard opens the peephole. (At least, she’s not a complete amateur...) She then opens the door.

I step right in front of her.

The woman recoils in shock. “Uh. Excuse me but… What are you doing here? Access to the park is forbidden.”

“Hello (I glance at her name tag) Jessica! Do you have some time to speak about our Lord and Savior?”

The watchwoman blinks. “J- Jesus?”

“Knock-out spray.”

And I spray her in the face. When she passes out, I catch her under the shoulders.

“The Savior of any thief in a hurry.”

I notice Mary-Jane’s glare.

“What? Don’t pretend you never spout quips for fun.”

The redhead opens her mouth to argue further, but then chooses to give up. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Took the words out of my mouth, Red.” I start dragging Jessica inside the small house. “You’ll put on her uniform by the way.”

“What? That wasn’t part of the deal!”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. There are some sentences heroes should be forbidden from saying.

“As a last resort, we could use you as bait. Kraven’s Hunters won’t question the presence of the night guardian. As long as police or other superheroes aren’t involved, they’ll prefer to maintain tonight’s hunt.”

I choose to not mention the fact using her as a bait has always been my first intent. Call me tactful. My partner is already (understandably) not very on board with the idea. No need to add fuel to the fire.

In fact, she’s complaining right now. “Great. I’m delighted to paint a target on my back to allow your plan to succeed.”

“The Hunters don’t kill civilians. There’s no glory in that. Not worthy preys.” I retort while laying Jessica onto the floor. “Wort case scenario, they’ll shoot you with tranquilizers. Normally.”

The redhead closes the door. “You have a way of lifting people’s spirits…”

“I’ll be watching your back.” I start unbuttoning the night watchwoman’s light brown uniform jacket.

“Oh! I feel SO MUCH relieved now!” MJ’s voice is dripping with sarcasm.

I prefer to not pursue a fruitless debate, and strip thoroughly the unconscious Jessica of her cap, jacket, shirt, belt, shoes, and trousers. Each time I remove a garment, I give it to Mary Jane. She takes them with a grimace, as if they were radioactive.

Once I’m finished, Jessica is down to her light grey socks with pink stripes, light pink Hello Kitty panties with a red waistband strap, and white full-cup t-shirt bra with red straps and borders, and featuring the same Hello Kitty pattern on the cups. I resist the urge to make a comment. Jessica isn’t awake to hear my constructive criticism, and Mary-Jane isn’t in the mood.

I grab the night guard by the undershoulders, and start dragging her away, giving MJ some privacy. (For what it’s worth. I already saw her tacky undergarments anyway.)

I open the door of the small toilet room – a thief’s best friend to hide an unconscious body. I sit Jessica onto the toilet seat, and cross her wrists behind the pipe.

“The room is even heated. Lucky her.”

I hear MJ’s groan of annoyance in the other room. I can’t help but snicker.

Stay focused, Felicia. You can make fun of her later, when the others are safe. I intend to never let her live down the Screwball underwear incident...

Like any good toilet room, this one has a maintenance closet. And like any good maintenance closet, this one has a roll of duct-tape.

Did I mention the toilet room is a thief’s best friend?

I wrap tape around Jessica’s wrists to bind them behind the pipe. Then I immobilize the blonde’s ankles. Finally, I secure her thighs to the bowl with the remaining tape. This specific duct tape isn’t the sturdiest out there, but since Jessica isn’t the most athletic girl out there either it’ll do the trick.

On the chair in the main room, I grab the long neckscarf I spotted earlier. As I thought, it makes for a nice cleave-gag.

Jessica is all snug and tucked. I exit the room, and close the door.

That’s one less thing to worry about…

Mary Jane has finished changing clothes. She’s putting on the cap to hide her red hair. I eye her from head to toe.

“Good. You’re the perfect innocent bystander. Nobody will suspect anything.”

Her grumpy face is priceless. Had the circumstances not been so dire, I’d have taken a picture.

**************

As a theme park taking inspiration from adventure movies, Adventure Paradise features a lot of trees and bushes, to remind of movie jungles and the likes.

Mary-Jane is cautiously walking the trail between the attractions. To the average person, or even the average bad guy, she’d be discreet. However, for a master cat burglar like me – and even more for a Hunter – she’s despairingly noisy. In her defense, she’s in a bad mood, being clearly fed up with me, so it’s hard for her to focus. And she’s never faced Hunters before. With some luck, she won’t have to – I’ll conk the freaks before they reach her, and we’ll put on their clothes.

I walk at a safe distance from MJ, using the cover of the night and the bushes to conceal myself. I’m careful to not become complacent. My partner will be a useful decoy to distract the Hunters, but they aren’t amateur evil minions. A mere decoy isn’t enough. I have to use all my skills to remain undetected no matter what…

The hunt is one. But this time, I intend to be the hunter...

Very fun and excellently done story.

I have to say, the scene with Jessica is fantastic. It starts off with the wonderful touch of the completely incompetent and outmatched guard chatting on her cell phone. Her "ninja" comment is just wonderful.

Also great is Jessica's comment that her guard job is "Like, the easiest job ever." Such a great comment given that we know she will stand no chance against the intruder and in moments she will be unconscious, stripped of her uniform and tied up.

Then I love the entire scene of Jessica being knocked out and the little exchange: “Uh. Excuse me but… What are you doing here? Access to the park is forbidden. Hello (I glance at her name tag) Jessica! Do you have some time to speak about our Lord and Savior?" The watchwoman blinks. “J- Jesus? Knock-out spray.” And I spray her in the face. When she passes out, I catch her under the shoulders. “The Savior of any thief in a hurry.” Such a perfect scene. And somehow it is just very sexy to picture Jessica slumping into her Felicia's arms.

Love Jessica's goofy underwear and the imagery of Felicia dragging the unconscious, half naked Jessica out of the room not only to hide her but as an excuse to give MJ some privacy.

Great story overall but the Jessica scene really stands out for me.

Okay, I really wish I could leave a longer review... Excellent work. We finally got a sequel to your and tirepanted's series

The descriptions are perfect, as usual, I really love the first person POV and there's plenty of humor, which it's always nice. And I agree with meditions, "Our Lord and Saviour" undoubtedly is the best scene of the story.

And, well, between food themed, screwball themed and Hello Kitty themed, some interesting choice of underwear you have there

All in all, an excellent story. Well done!

I have to say, it's quite interesting to read a story from the perspective of a character I've previously written, told from a different author (even if the character is of course derived from elsewhere). Well done.

You captured Felicia's voice very well - how she's mean-spirited in her humor but not wantonly cruel, how she looks out for herself but still has a conscience. The sort of "grey area" heroine that I love writing and reading about.

Her quips and wisecracks were top-notch, especially once MJ enters the fray and gives her someone to tease. I love her teasing MJ about the Screwball-themed underwear (great continuity reference as well) and cajoling her to dress up as the watchwoman.

Speaking of which, that watchwoman scene was a certain highlight of the story. As others have mentioned, the "lord and savior" quip was great. And shame on MJ for not appreciating it - as Black Cat points out, she's certainly made a few such quips in the past.

The Marvel references are welcome as well. Something of a darker tone, with the killing of the HYDRA agents, but it fits the story. Looks like things are moving in place for some Kraven goonettes to show up in the next part - perhaps similar to the ones recently seen in the new Spider-Man game.

A fun continuation of the saga, and one I was happy to contribute to. My only issue would be that some of the muggings are glossed over early on - the limo driver, her boss, and the janitress - and not given more focus. Presumably this is done to move the pace along quicker, but I wish we could have gotten some of Black Cat's quips in those early muggings. Perhaps I'm just biased, as I have a soft spot for limo driver/chauffeur USB scenes.

And here I thought when I posted the finished draft Thursday during a break, I'd quietly wait the week-end's end to have comments, I wasn't expecting people to comment already the same day. You guys are mad(ly awesome)! Thanks a lot!

I'm actually surprised the "Lord and Savior" joke was a highlight for so many people, personally I thought it was pretty weak - though maybe it's because I know this joke is actually a leftover of an other joke. In the early version, Felicia actually kept wearing Fiona's clothes. Therefore, the joke was that she actually knocked on the door like some door-to-door preacher, and ask about the lord and savior. The first part of the joke was scrapped when I decided it would be more in-character for her to put on a spare Black Cat outfit to be more comfortable and to have all her gadgets. (Of course, nobody would open the door to Black Cat dressed as Black Cat.) The second part was kept, but without the context that made it work. Always interesting to see which parts catch on, and which don't - they're often not the ones I anticipated.

meditions: I was afraid the second half wouldn't have enough uniform stealings - it's very plot-heavy. So I tried to add a few details to make Jessica's scene stand out - hence why I kept the lord and savior joke even though I removed most of its context, or why I added the detail of the Hello Kitty panties - much to Felicia's chagrin. That's actually why I also posted all the story in one go. (At first, I wanted Felicia's small heist with Miranda to be its own little introduction chapter and to only post the parts with HYDRA and Jessica a few days later.)

In hindsight, that would be my only regret - the part with Miranda and Fiona was my favorite, but it was overshadowed by Jessica's part.

arc: Well, a short comment is a million times better than no comment at all. Glad you enjoyed the humor - that's the main point of most of my stories. To feature light-hearted fun tales, with sometimes to occasional emotional moment. Silly-looking underwear are a staple of USB stories, and I thought I hadn't used them enough times lately, so I included several.

tirepanted: I'm actually quite surprised I enjoy writing Felicia so much - given how her archetype has become very hit-and-miss when it comes to my likings. Maybe it's because Marvel Spider-Man's general light-hearted/slightly zany atmosphere makes it easier to appreciate morally grey decisions. Or because as a writer, I don't have the same relationship with the character than as a reader.

One whole point of the story was to have an excuse to feature more Felicia and MJ banters, I'm not gonna lie. Their dynamic and relationship is very fun to write.

The darker tone was needed to raise the stakes, but also to justify Felicia's decision. As you pointed out in your PMs, she's a bit of a lone wolf (lone cat?). So I needed a reason for her to seek help, the reason being she has to face a faction too dangerous for her to handle alone. And while I could have simply her reminiscence how dangerous the Hunters are, I thought it would be best to also display it first-hand. A bit of show don't tell.

And yes, I can finally say it without spoiling the surprise, but as you easily guessed this story was indeed inspired by trackman's post about the Hunters in the new Spider-Man game.

A fun continuation of the saga, and one I was happy to contribute to. My only issue would be that some of the muggings are glossed over early on - the limo driver, her boss, and the janitress - and not given more focus. Presumably this is done to move the pace along quicker, but I wish we could have gotten some of Black Cat's quips in those early muggings. Perhaps I'm just biased, as I have a soft spot for limo driver/chauffeur USB scenes.

Yes indeed. I wanted to start the story in medias res - in the middle of a light-hearted heist of Felicia before raising the stakes unexpectedly. I wanted the pace to be quick, so I skipped the preliminary steps of her infiltration.

HOWEVER, I'm not going to spoil anything, but there are supposed to be two more parts - well technically one more part and an epilogue. I'm currently writing the epilogue, and I can't promise to all the chauffeurs out there they'll be safe, if you catch my drift ...

One whole point of the story was to have an excuse to feature more Felicia and MJ banters, I'm not gonna lie. Their dynamic and relationship is very fun to write.

Indeed it is. I always love a team-up between characters of such contrasting personalities.

Marvel recently published some "Mary Jane and Black Cat" comics, and while they're not quite as antagonistic there as in this series, they do get some fun digs in.

HOWEVER, I'm not going to spoil anything, but there are supposed to be two more parts - well technically one more part and an epilogue. I'm currently writing the epilogue, and I can't promise to all the chauffeurs out there they'll be safe, if you catch my drift ...

Ah, I'll keep on my toes then.

That line about MJ's butt... Savage...

What I find funny is that the joke could also fit in our series, but it would be the exact opposite. USB MJ has a plain body (at least compared to Felicia), so the joke would be Black Cat's costume would be too big/too wide for MJ in some... ahem... key areas...