Cat And Bat And Cat And

After the wedding in Vegas, Felicia had been convinced that things between her and Peter would be a never-ending series of the same escapades that had led them to the altar. And for a while, it had been. Felicia had made peace with the strain of Peter’s heroism, while Peter had agreed not to complain about Felicia’s kleptomaniac urges so long as she restrained herself to the rich and criminal. 

But it hadn’t lasted. The taboo of doing something they shouldn’t, an affair between outlaw and outlaw, no longer applied now that Felicia was a semi-reformed Robin Hood, Peter an Avengers-sanctioned superhero. Without it, and despite their compatibility, the relationship had become laden down with dullness, sameness, boredom, and frustration. They tried to improve things, but nothing seemed to work. Felicia had even bought a sex manual written by Emma Frost, and they’d fucked in just about every position short of those requiring tails or wings. Though the biology was there, the chemistry was off.

They could’ve divorced. They’d even discussed it. They both agreed that it was a possible solution to their problem, but they wanted to find the answer to their ennui together, not apart.

Finally, one evening Felicia found Selina Kyle having robbed a Mob hideout she’d been scoping out. What once would’ve irritated her now struck her as a break from routine, and she asked if she couldn’t take Selina out for coffee to celebrate her successful heist. At twelve o’clock in Brooklyn, no one looked twice at them. 

Enjoying designer coffee that was probably worth more per ounce than the artifact Selina had lifted, Felicia confessed her marital problems. “It’s the damnedest thing. It used to be that I couldn’t wait until Peter got home from wherever so that I could pull him into bed and fuck his brains out. Which he loved. Now we’re like two robots. It’s affecting our entire marriage. We bicker like a couple of kids on a road trip, and over the stupidest things...”

“You could always leave him,” Selina offered. “If it’s not meant to be, it’s not meant to be. Some people just aren’t the marrying kind.”

“I already thought of that,” Felicia said dismally, leaving the rest of the thought unvoiced. Getting into that was too much for petty gossip. “But anyone who thinks Peter Parker can’t have a happy marriage is a stone-cold idiot.”

“So you still love him?”

“Of course I… think I do,” Felicia finished, mouthing the rim of her cup without regard for the delicious fumes coming off it, which Selina seemed to relish as she took a dainty sip. “I don’t know what I think. It’s not my strong suit. I plot, I scheme occasionally—mostly I act. Peter’s the thinker.”

“If he can’t think of a way to make you happy, he’s not much of one,” Selina reasoned.

“Black Cat, remember? I can be hard to please.”

“So can men. Otherwise, you could just wear that outfit to bed.”

“You like?” Felicia asked, arching her back to brandish herself. “Every time I look at you, I wonder if it’s not too much…”

“Don’t get catty—passive-aggressive,” Selina amended. “We’re on the same side. And I know how good I look, subtlety and all.”

“Yeah,” Felicia conceded. “How could you not?” She tried her coffee again, but it seemed as tasteless as ever. 

“What about your sex life? Have you tried… experimenting?”

“Oh yeah. We’ve done it in every position you can think of. And he can stick to walls, so that’s… interesting.”

“That’s not what I meant. I’m talking about variety.”

“Variety?”

“The spice of life?”

“I thought you meant the magazine.”

Selina leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Swapping, dumb-dumb.”

Felicia couldn’t help but be shocked. Selina was a classy lady. She was married to Bruce Wayne. And while Felicia herself had had a pretty active sex life before marriage, she kinda thought the whole point of getting married was that she simply couldn’t get any better than Peter, so why not only have the best? She certainly thought of that as the reason he had married her.

“Are you speaking from experience?” she asked, a little numbly.

“Some,” Selina said. “I don’t try to control Bruce’s urges. He has this thing for Talia Head—strange last name, considering she never gives it—“ Selina turned her head to the side. “Tch! Men. Who can understand them? He’s superfriends with benefits with Wonder Woman and Zatanna, that at least makes sense. It takes some kind of woman to pull off fishnets. Me, I let Ivy and Harley eat my pussy now and then, for old time’s sake.” She sipped her coffee. “It’s important that they have something to look forward to.”

“And that doesn’t bother Bruce? He always seemed a little… judgmental to me. Threw me in jail once over one little Faberge egg. And he was not interested in swapping at the time, let me tell you.”

Selina scratched Felicia with a tiny grin. “Hunh. Maybe that outfit is too much.”

“Laugh it up, kitty.”

“To answer your question, no, neither one of us gets jealous. He doesn’t try to change me, I don’t try to change him. We enjoy being unchanged together.”

Felicia smiled slightly. “Peter and I could manage that.”

“Come over to dinner at our Manhattan townhouse, then. We’ll see how things turn out.”

“You mean… you’d be interested in…?”

“Why not?” Selina asked. “I’ve always liked sticking to walls. How are you with emotionally distant father figures who withhold affection and keep secrets?”

Felicia clutched at her heart. “The dream!”

***

“Hello, Peter,” Selina said, giving him a small hug and a kiss on the cheek as he came in. The apartment was no Wayne Manor, but she took pride in it, as she rented it with her own money, and was gratified when Peter seemed to accept the homey space without question. Even on her budget, rent in New York City was insane.

“Thanks for having us,” Peter said, leading Felicia in. The white-haired woman gave Bruce her own playful bow.

“Felicia,” Bruce said in greeting. “You’re looking well. Not just well—incredible.”

“Why, thank you,” Felicia said, blushing a little. It was a new experience for her.

This could be a new experience for both Peter and her.

“Welcome to our humble home,” Bruce said.

“It’s a lot less humble than some homes I’ve known,” Peter commented.

“And the walls are soundproof,” Selina pointed out, a knowing grin in place.

“You have a fireplace too!” Felicia said, almost tripping over her high heels in a rush to coo over it. Once, she might’ve been used to such a luxury, but with most of her money now being honest… “I’ve wanted one for ages.”

“It isn’t real,” Bruce said. “The logs are metal, they glow red when you run electricity through them, the heat’s from a miniature AC unit…”

“Still,” Felicia said, warming her hands on the supposed make believe. With the sun down outside, the city had become cold. Or maybe it was just the fear that this wouldn’t work and she would lose Peter for good. If she couldn’t be happy with him, her dream man—who could she be happy with?

“You could probably afford one,” Bruce said. He crossed the living room as he spoke, going to a small bar in the far corner. “It’s not like it needs a chimney.”

“I looked into it,” Peter said bleakly. “Three grand we don’t have. Ten for a real one, which would probably get built in time for our grandkids to enjoy.”

“It’d be worth it,” Selina said. “There’s nothing like a good fuck in front of a roaring fire.”

“Selina,” Bruce chastised. “You’ll have to forgive my wife. She forgets that the youth today aren’t as liberal as they were when she was your age.”

“The smart ones are,” Selina said, grinning. “Don’t tell me I’ve embarrassed you.”

“It’s all right,” Felicia said. She was looking at a shaggy fur rug in front of the fireplace. She imagined what it would be like to have that soft white fleece caressing her naked body while Peter’s sweaty flesh pressed in on her from above. Or maybe Bruce’s handsomely patrician face burrowed between her thighs…

“We try to look more innocent than we are,” Peter said. He saw the rug too, and imagined Selina Kyle spread on it, her short raven hair like an exclamation point when set against whiteness like that of a blank page.

“The best way to do it,” Selina said. “Imagine looking as innocent as you actually are.”

“I don’t know,” Felicia said. “I’d think the black leather would bring out my eyes.”

“If I don’t miss my guess,” Bruce said, glancing at his watch. “The roast is almost done. Selina, you go get the bubbly from the rack, and then let’s eat.”

“Yes,” Selina agreed, “I do so hate to discuss business on an empty stomach.”