Final Preview to Chapter 41

(Unnamed Club)

Felicia sits at the unfinished office of her and MJ’s unfinished nightclub. The office is up some stairs and has a one-way mirror overlooking the dance floor. Hardy is looking over some paperwork that her redheaded girlfriend told her to. Just some things that she needed to put her name on if she wanted to be Mary Jane’s partner in this business. Right now, Felicia is looking at some tax forms the model asked Hardy look over.

The prospect of having a real job has not been something Felicia has considered doing since she was in college. Why would she want one anyway? Being the Black Cat has paid for a lavish lifestyle in ways no job she’d be considered qualified for would ever be able to. She’s not stupid or average, it takes serious acrobatic skills and cunning mind for her to be able to pull off heists, but skills like that aren’t exactly something that can land her a great job.

And again, why would she want one? Why would she want to put up with an incompetent bossy imbecile who only runs their mouth while she does all the work? She’d rather be her own boss.

“You done there yet, Hardy?”

The platinum blonde beauty looks up from the paperwork to her business/romantic partner just as the woman enters the office.

Felicia leans back in the chair looks at the supermodel with some annoyance. “You know, when you invited me to join in with you on this little endeavor,” she starts as she crosses her arms, “I figured you’d do all the real work, and I’d deal with the parts you don’t want to know anything about.”

“You figured wrong on both fronts,” MJ retorts as she head over to their offices personal bar and pours a drink, “Because in order to make sure you keep your word on donating more than half of whatever you earn as Black Cat, then I need to keep a close eye on you.”

Felicia pouts playfully at her girlfriend, “You don’t trust me, Red?”

MJ rolls her eyes but keeps her smile, “I trust that you love me, Peter, and Sonja. But I don’t trust you to behave and do the right thing without someone there tugging your ear.”

Felicia continues to pout, “That actually hurts, you know. But I can’t blame you.” She tries to play it off and turn her attention back to the paperwork, but inside she is a little genuinely hurt by the redhead’s admission. She is dating the woman, so of course it stings a little.

“Good. Because you’ve built a reputation on doing exactly what you please.” MJ all but empties the contents of a mini bottle of bourbon into her glass, leans against the bar with the posture of someone who has learned to play confidence by ear. “This,” she says, swirling the drink,”—this club, this legitimate business? Total trust fall. I’m trusting you to not hurt me or Peter when you do your thing.”

Felicia signs the last sheet with a flourish. “Still can’t believe you and he aren’t pushing me to be more normal.”

MJ shrugs and states, “Normal is overrated. Learned that during quiet nights without Peter around.”

Felicia looks at MJ as she twirls the pen in her hand, “So you don’t want to return to the quiet life.”

MJ sets her glass down and looks at Hardy. “Would you want that? The quiet life?”

Felicia’s smile is soft for once, almost sad. “Ask me again after tonight.”

“Why tonight?”

Hardy gives her a look. “Because tonight our shared boyfriend is trying to convince a deadly mercenary and an elite super-spy to go on a date with all of us, and if it doesn’t blow up in his face, I’ll finally believe fate doesn’t hate him.”

MJ laughs. “Low standards.”

“Well, we are dating Peter Parker.” She keeps her voice nonchalant, but the next words are more serious than she’d like Mary Jane to realize. “I signed every paper you highlighted. But for the record, if you try to micromanage me, I’ll run this place into the ground just to spite you.”

Mary Jane picks up her glass again and takes a sip of her drink as she grins over the rim. “That would be a shame. Because you’d be out half of what you’re laundering, and I’d inherit the half you already cleaned.” She moves behind Felicia’s chair, running her hands lightly over the thief’s sculpted shoulders until she feels some of the tension ease. “Besides, you’re not the only one with a devious streak, Hardy. I wouldn’t have been okay with this if I can’t think of a way of making you suffer by doing good.”

Felicia relaxes into the gesture, bowing her head slightly so MJ can’t see her face go vulnerable for a second. She’s never needed to be needed, never wanted to be responsible to anyone except herself, but lately something about the way MJ and Peter look at her—like she matters, like she’s not just a beautiful distraction or a bad habit—they’re changing her, bit by bit.

Felicia’s gaze drops through the one-way mirror to the dance floor, a shiver of movement catching her eye amid the ladders and extension cords and cleaning crews. A familiar face is making it’s way through the unfinished dance floor. Mayor J Jonah Jameson, the only man in the city who does not need a bullhorn to be heard in crowded areas.

“Check it out,” she deadpans, nodding to MJ. “Either our boytoys old boss is here to shut us down preemptively, or the city’s run out of places for him to lurk.”

MJ leans in, following Felicia’s line of sight, her eyes narrowing in curiosity. “That’s weird,” she murmurs. “I didn’t invite him.”

Mary Jane goes to the office door and leans out to invite the mayor up.

Jameson sets his jaw and pulls out a yellow folder from his coat. He slides it across the desk to MJ, tapping it with one stubby finger. “I need to know how much of this is real and how much is my own damn paranoia.”

MJ picks up the folder and takes out the contents before placing them onto the desk for both her and Felicia to see. They see it’s newspaper articles about their shared man, and they’re one’s that Felicia recognizes. All the things her man has done for the city and it’s people that he never took credit for.

“What is all this?” MJ questions the mayor.

“I was hoping you can tell me.” Jameson responds as a guilty look crosses his face, “All of these incidents looked like Parker reeking havoc across the city without a single explanation. I figured if there is anyone who can shed some light to these incidents, its you.”

Felicia stops herself from rolling her eyes at the mayors words as she sits back down. She finds it very annoying how often the redhead beside her is the one people run to for answers about Peter. It makes sense—MJ was his anchor, the sane voice in the never-ending circus of their lives—but Felicia has her own history with Spider. Sometimes a longer history than even Watson knows.

Felicia chuffed. “Only because I bullied him into it. You always used to tell him not to talk about Spider-things. It worried you. Remember?”

Mary Jane turns away. “I guess I always preferred to pretend the dangerous stuff wasn’t happening every night.”