Circus Tricks - Act 3 - Marvel: Earth-USB Saga (Part 27)
Posted: Wed Aug 13, 2025 7:19 am
Big shout-out and thanks to Tirepanted who helped me with the characters and story.
Character descriptions are in the second post.
That one will be much shorter, but thematically it was too far-off from the previous. Consider both the end of the Circus arc but also, and first and foremost, a distant epilogue of the whole "Mary-Jane/Gwen/Felicia Era" of the Marvel: Earth-USB Saga.
Circus Tricks
**************
Act 3
**************
The engine of my motorcycle is blaring while I’m belting along the highway.
The fact my meeting with Tiboldt took place at 1 P.M. is both a blessing and a curse. A curse because it means my pursuers still have hours of daylight to try and locate me. A blessing because it means I can use the crowd to conceal myself.
I used a motorcycle to drive to the circus – and use the same one to flee. A fast means of transport, and a convenient excuse to hide my face with a helmet. I slalom in-between cars.
I know Natasha called SHIELD the first chance she had. My best course of action is to put as much distance in-between me and my pursuers.
But first I need to grab the Chaos Cube.
Of course, I didn’t bring it with me to a potentially dangerous meeting with a woman on Jefferson’s payroll. I left it in my current hideout. That’s where I’m driving.
To the Avengers Campus.
I’ve hidden the Cube in an unused storage room in an unused basement of one of the oldest buildings of the campus.
I chose this place because, really, who’d think an international mercenary and fugitive is hiding here?
Campus are crowded places, full of young people and old teachers from all over the country – and several foreign countries as well. I don’t stand out here – when I use make-up to look a few years younger, I can pass myself for a college girl with ease. Contrary to Natasha, I’ve renounced using a Black Widow suit – I didn’t have the resources to maintain one. I did my best with what I had, and built my combat suit from scratch, but for the untrained eye my outfit looks like biker’s trousers and jacket. My wrist-launchers are discreet – they can pass for bracelets with an original design.
The irony of hiding in a place named after the Avengers is an unwanted bonus.
The truth is that while the campus has been renamed after the well-known group of heroes, it’s just a regular campus. An old one at that. And like all old regular campus, it has plenty of unused basements and storage rooms that were left untouched for years when new buildings were built.
When I arrive to the campus, most students are attending to their classes, and the ones who aren’t don’t pay a second glance to the blond biker chick who seems in a hurry. I’m not the only student who drives a motorcycle – even some teachers do so.
I enter a vast building that’s holding some classrooms. Well, the ones for the courses which are deemed the least important by the dean. It’s an old building, one of the oldest of the campus. This explains that.
The place's old age also means it’s almost as big underground as on the surface, and many of these caves and storage rooms have been left to dust after newer buildings had been built.
I walk the empty corridors, and enter the basement area. The lone janitor is taking his break, so I have no trouble entering the restricted parts of the underground corridors. Once there, I use a flashlight – turning on the lights would be the easiest way to get noticed.
I rush inside a remote big storage room that is now almost empty, save for a few dusty lockers nobody had ever bothered to move or recycle.
Good. The kerosene lamp I left behind is still there. I turn it on. First thing I do, I move a dusty locker, and check the hole I made in the wall.
The Chaos Cube is still inside.
Neither SHIELD nor HYDRA have managed to locate my hideout yet. I feel relieved.
I still have leverage.
They won’t take you back. They’ll take the Cube and kill you.
I close my eyes, and take one long breath, the time to refrain the memory.
Later.
I’ll think of this later.
I’m strong. I’m the one and only Black Widow. I can take it.
As long as I have the Cube, I have options.
I anticipate I’ll have a small moment of respite, but I can’t stay here. I must leave after I check my equipment.
I don’t have the support of SHIELD, nor the one of my Motherland, so I have to carefully manage my resources.
My makeshift combat suit isn’t damaged – good thing I avoided hand-to-hand combat with Natasha. Fixing it would be difficult.
I’ve lost my gun during the fight at the circus, and I’ve used my last flash bomb to escape. Those are severe losses, but hopefully not irreplaceable. Of course I can’t exactly enter a store to buy them legally, but that’s what the black market is for. The problem is I don’t have much money left – Jefferson paid me in information and contacts.
My photostatic veil is in the same hole as the Chaos Cube. I carefully put it in a small case, and strap the latter onto my belt. The veil is my most precious resource after the Cube. If I ever were to damage it, I wouldn’t have the resources or the technical support to repair it. And I know I’ll need it a lot to escape my pursuers during the next weeks.
The darts are an other problem. Without SHIELD’s technical support, I can’t have Widow’s Bites, so I use regular knock-out darts. But even those are hard to replace – especially since I won’t have Jefferson’s help anymore. In my wrist launchers, I only have six knock-out darts left.
I'm in a tight spot. Gotta play my cards right.
Once I’ve checked all my equipment, I get ready to leave.
Suddenly, I feel a tingling in my neck. I just heard faint footsteps in the corridor, sensed a slight air stream.
I trust my instinct.
Behind me!
I swiftly dodge to the right, and turn around in one swift motion. Two darts hit the wall right where I was standing one second ago.
“Would’ve been easier for you had you let yourself be captured like a good girl…”
A woman steps inside the room. Shaggy square-shaped black hair, and green eyes. Green-and-black bodysuit. Scorpion tail and forearm pincers ready for battle.
Elaine Coll. Scorpia. Mercenary-for-hire, just like me right now. Except that contrary to me, she doesn’t have any self-respect and would gladly remain a goon all her life.
I eye her warily. I’m careful to keep my distance by staying at the other side of the room. I’m ready to anticipate the next attack. “What are you doing here?”
“Mr Jefferson sent me. He wants the Cube. And also you, alive if possible.”
“How did you find me?”
“Remember the encrypted phone he gave you to call Tiboldt? There’s a tracking chip inside.”
I feel the weight of the small cellphone strapped onto my belt. Damn! Rookie mistake. Should've remembered it earlier - and gotten rid of it.
No time for regret.
I grin harshly. “The bastard has always wanted to double-cross me, right?”
Scorpia shrugs. “More like has always left the option open.” She wiggles the tail of her suit, and smiles. “Don’t worry babe, your sacrifice won’t be in vain. With the reward money, I’ll treat my Claire to the best restaurant of the city. Now, be a good girl, and I’ll only use paralyzing darts.”
“You speak too much.”
I fire two darts of my own at her with my wrist launchers. People are often caught off guard by my quick-draw. Coll is no exception.
“Shit-”
Scorpia lunges at me. She doesn’t seem hindered by the darts. Does her suit enhance her physical resistance to sleeping drugs? Questions for later!
I dodge and side-step the first swipe of her razor-sharp forearm pincer, careful to watch the scorpion tail at the same time. She anticipates my attempt to hit her exposed back, and swipes the air with her tail, forcing me to jump backwards and retreat to the other side of the room while she turns around.
Now, Coll is angry. She goes for the kill. She uses the forearm pincers of her suit to fire energy blasts at me.
Thankfully, my training doesn’t fail me – even against these unconventional ranged weapons. When Scorpia was still raising her arms, I was already jumping to the side. The blasts pierce two holes in the wall behind me.
While I’m jumping, I shoot two more darts at her. One at her thigh, the other at her stomach.
The sting briefly distracts Scorpia, allowing me to turn my jump into a roll before she can fire her pincers again. But she's still standing. How many knock-out darts will I need?!
Coll screams in rage, feints a second shoot, and instead rushes forward. She tries to skewer me with her scorpion tail.
I roll forward to avoid the sharp edge, and fire a fifth dart almost point blank at her neck.
This time, the scorpion-themed mercenary staggers. The knock-out drug finally begins to overflow her senses.
Unwilling to give her any chance, I take advantage of the opening. I lunge, dodge the swipe of her pincer-armed forearm from below, and punch her in the guts, stunning her.
She coughs, and falls on a knee. “You- You-”
“Don’t worry, babe.” I relish using her own words against her. “These darts will only make you sleep. Though given the dose you just received, don’t expect to wake up before 24 hours. So yeah, sorry for ruining your restaurant date.”
“You- you- bit-” She falls face down, finally succumbing to the sleep drugs, and the floor muffles her insult.
By the time I take a knee to check on her, she’s deeply unconscious.
So Jefferson betrayed me. I can’t even get angry at him. I can only blame myself. I underestimated him. I thought he wouldn’t be a threat because he was in a tight spot. I should’ve known he’d try a desperate move should Sarah’s assassination fail. Taking the Cube and using it as a bargaining chip is his kind of thing.
I search Scorpia, but don’t find anything of value. Then again, it’s not like she has pockets to carry stuff on her dumb bodysuit… A cellphone and a small radar are strapped on her waist belt, but I anticipate the former is bugged just like mine, and the latter’s only use is to track me.
No need to waste time binding her. She’ll be out until tomorrow. I contemplate taking her outfit, but decide against it. A green scorpion-themed bodysuit isn’t exactly discreet in a campus… I technically could use the photostatic veil, but I don’t have a black-haired wig. No. It’s best to leave her there.
Her arrival has probably been remarked. She’s officially on parole, so she’s allowed to roam the city freely, but her association with Orchis and Jefferson is public knowledge. SHIELD and Natalia will easily put two and two together, and deduce the reason why she was dispatched here.
I drop my cellphone next to her, grab my flashlight, and leave the defeated mercenary behind.
**************
I leave the basement area, once again escaping the attention of the lone janitor, and return to the corridors of the classrooms. I take deep breaths to keep a cool head.
This just keeps getting worst and worst. Now I have SHIELD, HYDRA, Natasha, and Orchis all after me.
(Well, Orchis won’t be a problem for long – I just need to wait the end of Jefferson’s trial. But that’s a moot point if a goon on his payroll catches me today.)
There’s a good chance Scorpia wasn’t alone. Maybe other agents of Jefferson are on the way – or are stationed around the building to catch me should Coll fail.
They have my description – including my outfit. Sure, I could try and blend in the crowd of students when they leave their classrooms, but my biker-like outfit stands out too much. I need...
I hear a student open her locker in the corridor nearby.
… an opportunity.
The college girl is in her early twenties, and has a light skin, ashen blond hair, and light green eyes. Her haircut is an angle-bob haircut: the hair framing her face and cheeks reaches down to her chin, but the back is cut shorter. There is a bang on her forehead. She’s wearing a black leather jacket with a grey hood, brown trousers, a greyish green t-shirt, and white sneakers. She’s carrying a light brown backpack.
I notice the blond college student is tall for her age – easily looks a few years older than she truly is. In fact, her clothes could easily fit a woman older than her. A woman like me.
The girl looks a bit guilty – probably skipping class? Whatever her reasons are, I won’t question a stroke of luck. The corridor is empty, save for her and me. She's unlucky.
“Excuse me…”
Usually, I don’t warn a target of my presence, but in this specific occurrence I don’t have any mean to instantly take out this girl at a distance (as shown with Scorpia, knock-out darts aren’t instantaneous and I only have one left), I can’t conceal the sounds of her footsteps if I run, and I need to make sure this girl won’t leave to a more crowded place. The corridor may be empty, but I don’t know for how long.
The girl pauses and turns, interrupted in her thoughts. She isn’t alarmed – she’s in her campus, she doesn’t expect to come across a fugitive on the run.
People rarely do. That usually makes my work easier.
“That’s a nice jacket.” I say.
The girl is now within my reach.
“I like the hood.”
The college girl’s expression turns from surprise and confusion to worry. She has seen my smile. She opens her mouth.
Reflexively, I shoot my last sleeping dart right at the junction between her throat and her shoulder, the best area to put her to sleep quickly, and rushes at her.
She squeaks faintly – more out of surprise than out of pain – but before she can think of actually screaming, I clamp a hand onto her mouth and pin her against the lockers.
The girl’s eyes widen in fear, but she’s not a highly-trained mercenary in an enhanced scorpion suit. The knock-out drug has already begun to take effect.
Logic dictates I should punch her in the throat, but I decide to give her one warning. “You scream, and I have to hurt you.”
She moans in fear, but doesn’t attempt to call for help. She nods faintly. Good girl.
The drug acts a lot faster on this untrained young woman. Soon her eyes roll back, and she goes limp. I locate the nearby maintenance closet. I wrap my arms under the girl’s armpits, and drag her inside. I ease down the falling body, and lays it on the floor. I briefly check my surroundings. Nobody.
Perfect.
I close the door.
Then I realize I just wasted my last knock-out dart.
I mutter a curse under my breath. This was my only reliable ranged weapon left. And I wasted it. I could easily have punched the girl in the throat before she screamed!
Why did I play nice?
So now you're working with low-life crooks to help a slimy businessman kill a girl whose life he ruined. Quite the accomplishment. You must be really proud of yourself.
I still can’t shake Natasha’s words off my head. Is it why I went easy on this girl?
Stay focused. Questions for later.
I remove the blond girl’s backpack, jacket, t-shirt, sneakers, and trousers. Underneath, the college student is wearing white ankles socks, sky blue boyshorts with a black waistband strap, a plain beige t-shirt bra, and a thin black tank top with a picture of Elektra. Apparently, the college student is a big fan.
I frown. Does Elektra have merchandising now? Knowing the woman’s reputation, she probably doesn’t, and some greedy businessman is making money off her image.
Typical American capitalism…
Since I don’t need the tank top, I don’t steal it.
Still, I make sure to properly bind and gag my victim. There are some electric cables on a shelf which I use to bind her legs, her wrists, and her upper-arms. I grab some tape, and use a couple of strips to gag her.
And I also leave her in a corner of the janitor closet, and find a tarp which I throw over her to conceal her. That way, hopefully, she’ll only be found in a couple of hours.
There is being nice, and there is being dumb...
I take off my handmade Black Widow suit, and only keep the wrist launchers. Then I slip into the blonde's outfit.
One minute after I exit the janitor closet, wearing a new set of clothes, with the Chaos Cube hidden in my stolen backpack and using the hood to conceal my head, the bell rings.
I use the cover of the crowd of students to leave the building undetected.
I’m smiling to myself.
**************
Natasha and Kate arrived at the Avengers Campus just in time to see an unconscious Scorpia being transported inside an ambulance on a gurney.
They were however quick to deduce that, unfortunately, whatever had happed here, it had happened hours ago.
For some reason, an other woman – with auburn hair tied into a ponytail – was busy arguing with the police officers supervising the transfer, shouting Elaine was on parole, she had every right to chase after a fugitive, and they were going to be sorry when she’d call her lawyer.
Kate glanced at the woman. “Doesn’t she work for Silver Sable? Goodie. An other forbidden love story.”
The SHIELD agents had found a student of the campus trussed up and gagged in a closet. The college girl had also been drugged, but the dose was a lot smaller than Scorpia’s, so they had been able to wake her up and ask her some questions. The young woman was still in shock, but had been able to give them a description of her mugger and of the clothes which had been stolen.
It was indeed Yelena.
“At least she didn’t harm the girl” Kate commented. “She even left Scorpia’s phone and radar intact so that her position could be traced.”
“If HYDRA or even Russia get their hands on the Chaos Cube, this will be the least of our concerns. I must find her. She has hours of advance on us and-”
Her transmitter bipped. She picked it up. "Yes?"
"Widow, I've just intercepted a police transmission. It may be of interest to you."
"What's it?"
"Report of a mugging. A young woman. Norah Winters. She's a journalist working for the Front Line. Her purse and her car were stolen."
"What does she look like, how was she restrained, and was she in her underwear?"
"Are those details needed?" Kate butted in.
Natasha didn't bother replying. She wasn't doing it to fulfill some fantasy of hers. She was doing it because she needed all the intel - insignificant elements could be important.
"5′8″. 118 lbs. Blue eyes. Chin-length blonde hair. White skin. Her wrists and ankles were bound, and her mouth was cleave-gagged, with strips of clothes. But whoever used them is really good at makeshift ropes, because they were as sturdy as a real cable. Yes, she was in her underwear. White full-cup bra and pink knickers."
"It's Yelena." Natasha deduced. "The fact her victim resembles her is no coincidence. She must have identified that girl as a potential identity she could steal to throw us off weeks ago, when she began working for Jefferson." She then spoke in her communicator: "What clothes were stolen?"
"Dull violet blazer, black t-shirt, blue mesh jeans, and black booties. Also a light brown bracelet on the right wrist and a metal wristwatch on the left."
"Put a search wattant on Winters' car and on all blondes wearing these clothes. Thank you." Natasha cut off the transmission. She explained to Kate: "Yelena is a Widow. She has most likely weaved her web in advance. I wager she learned about Norah Winters when Jefferson had hired her to infiltrate the press conference, and realized that woman would make for a great contingency plan should things go south. I wouldn't be surprised to hear she had studied the habits of Norah Winters, maybe even approached her under a fake ID at some point, just in case she needed to lure her into a trap to steal her identity."
"Quite impressive."
"It's not good." Natasha concluded. "Yelena is moving fast. By the end of the day, she'll probably have stolen an other identity. Maybe she's already had..."
“Still sure you don’t want to bring the rookies? I could even call the Spider-Team.” Kate suggested.
Black Widow shook her head. “Let them enjoy their rest. It’s time SHIELD and I step up our game, and clean our mess ourselves.”
Kate raised an eyebrow. "The beginning of a new adventure, hey?" she joked.
Natasha shrugged. Her face didn't flinch, but Kate could've sworn she had seen the redhead's lips subtly give a hint of a smile. "That's one way of putting it, I suppose."
Epilogue
**************
Some time later...
**************
It was a warm sunny day. Mary-Jane was walking the streets. She had an appointment.
Well, calling it a rendezvous would be more accurate. It was with Peter. He had offered her a drink. Again. And she had accepted. Again.
How much of these ‘meetings’ had they already had? Six? Seven? Eight?
On her way, MJ passed next to a newsstand. She read the main headlines.
William Jefferson Found Guilty! Orchis Dismantled!
Lengthy Prison Sentence For William Jefferson!
William Jefferson Is Finished!
Circus Of Crime Put To Trial!
Dr Alia Gregor Arrested After The Latest Reveals On The Orchis Affair!
Sarah Elizabeth Summers Enters Professor Charles Xavier’s Rehabilitation Program!
Mary-Jane smiled to herself.
Sometimes, being a vigilante felt good, no matter how broke one was because of said vigilantism.
She resumed her walk, and went to the terrace of the café.
The redhead took a deep breath, and sat behind one table. Peter wasn’t here yet. Usually, the lady was supposed to be the one fashionably late, but then again Mary-Jane wasn’t a ‘lady’ anyway.
She didn’t know what to think of Peter’s invitation. To be honest, she hadn’t known what to think of all his previous invitations for drinks either. In fact, she didn’t know what to think of the whole situation.
Her friends said they were dating, but really all they did was share a few drinks from time to time, talk together, enjoy each other’s company...
Okay, maybe they were dating.
Felicia had always said she was denser than a black hole when it came to romance, but the truth was more that Mary-Jane lacked experience. She never truly had a chance to properly romance someone. Home life hadn’t exactly been nice when she was living with her alcoholic father, and then she had spent all her time struggling and failing. Struggling and failing at her art studies. Struggling and failing at her theater career. Struggling and failing at finding a decent job.
She never had had the time for romance.
Until Peter, at least.
Come to think of it, maybe she shouldn’t always leave the bill to him… It wasn’t exactly fair...
Mary-Jane took her phone to check her bank account, sighing in advance at the prospect of facing her disastrous financial situation.
Her eyes almost jumped out of their sockets when she saw the number of zeroes on her current account.
She immediately called Kate’s number.
“Yeah?”
“Kate! What’s the meaning of this?!”
“What? I told you you’d get paid for your part in the mission.”
“I thought you already did! The money you gave to my landlord, back when you recruited me!”
“That was the advance.”
“You didn’t tell me!”
“Must’ve forgotten.”
(And Mary-Jane swore she could hear Kate’s shrug and little grin in her voice.)
“And the little extra?”
“For your date with Peter today.”
“How do you-” Mary-Jane paused. Realization dawned upon her. “It’s Gwen! She snitched on me!”
“Go get him, girl!” Kate hung up.
Mary-Jane thought of calling her again to argue some more, but gave up. She glanced one last time at her bank account. Sure, she hadn’t become a millionaire – far from it. But for the first time in her adult life, she wasn’t on the brink of eviction each month. If she managed her finances effectively, and kept working her part-time jobs, she’d forever be free from want. Heck, maybe she’d even have the time to study and get a better job!
“Sorry, I’m late.” Peter sat on the chair in front of her. He leaned forward, and added with a whisper: “Some… you know… Spider Stuff...”
Mary-Jane found herself blushing – her cheeks turning a faint shade of rose.
Today, life was going her way.
She could get used to that.
**************
“You don’t mind you missed all the action?”
“Why should I? It’s never been about the fame.”
Gwen and Miles were nested in a web hammock on top of a skyscraper. They didn’t care about the height – they’d done far worst when swinging from building to building.
At least, here, they could take off their masks in peace.
“Peter should’ve arrived at the café by now.” Miles commented. “You sure MJ won’t get mad at you for snitching on her?”
Gwen smiled faintly. “Please, I’m Ghost Spider. I always have a contingency plan.”
“Which is?”
“Hide somewhere until her temper dies down. That is, if she even gets angry at all. It’s the seventh date – eighth if Peter truly managed to sneak behind my back that one time. According to my calculations, she and Peter should reach the next step in their relationship today. If they exchange their first kiss, I anticipate she’ll be so flustered she won’t even remember me spilling the beans.”
“You know you’re being a bit shrewd right now…” Miles jokingly teased her with a light elbow nudge.
She elbow-nudged back. “I guess Felicia is rubbing off on me a little.”
Miles chuckled, and leaned back in the hammock, gazing at the sky and clouds. “So, you’re going to hide somewhere till tomorrow…”
Gwen leaned back next to him. “Would you agree to… hide with me?” she whispered in his ear.
Miles paused briefly. “You’re also getting bold.”
Gwen smiled, and kissed him on the lips. Then she leaned against him, and nested her head on his shoulder. She closed her eyes when he wrapped an arm around her to pull her close.
Today, life was going her way.
She could get used to that.
**************
From her vantage point, Felicia observed the café’s terrace with her binoculars. She saw Peter and Mary-Jane talking over drinks and pastries.
She, of course, couldn’t make out what they were saying. However, Mary-Jane’s body language was a telltale sign.
And there was the way her hand was resting on Peter’s while she talked...
“Finally making some progress, uh?” Felicia commented to herself. “About time, if you ask me...”
She turned around, and used her binoculars once again.
Gwen and Miles were cuddling on their web hammock. It was adorable how chaste these two looked even when they were all lovey-dovey. Felicia would pay good money to know if her suspicions were correct, and Gwen truly had a secret kinky side…
“Good, good…” she muttered to herself.
No, she wasn’t spying on the love life of her four closest friends! (Or was it frien-emies?) Well, mostly not.
It was first and foremost for business.
The cat burglar grinned shrewdly. With these four do-gooders busy cooing and cuddling, her coast was clear.
Felicia nodded to herself, and did a small mental recap.
Team Awesome was history – Screwball and Trapstr were serving their time in jail, Taylor and Charlotte were on an other continent, Sarah was beginning the long and arduous process known as ‘rehabilitation’, and Jenna was without a boss after the whole ‘chess-themed gang debacle’.
Speaking of dumb gangs, White Rabbit was still behind bars – so the Wonderland Gang was history as well – and most of the Circus of Crime was bound to join her after their trial.
Mystique didn’t show any sign of recovering from her vegetative state.
Orchis and Jefferson were finally history – good riddance.
Silver Sable was having trouble holding her company together now that her second-in-command was in a relationship with Scorpia.
And even the AVENGERS, SHIELD, and the NYPD were weakened by the latest scandals surrounding the reveals of how easily they had been ridiculed by uniform thieves.
The city was now her playground!
Felicia put her binoculars away, and spoke to the woman lying on a deckchair next to her.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to wait here for a few hours.”
Felicia was standing on the balcony at the 42th floor of a prestigious high-class hotel – the kind of balcony which was bigger than some living rooms, with a private pool, two deckchairs, a parasol, and a small cocktail bar.
Black Cat’s comment was answered by angry muffled groans.
“Look at the bright side. It’s a warm day. I’m even leaving the parasol for you.”
More angry muffled groans.
“Some people just can’t be pleased…”
The woman restrained to the deckchair had short chin-long dark brown hair with pointy edges and bangs, orange brown eyes, a slim body with well-toned legs, and a tanned skin – proof her mother was Latina.
She was blindfolded with a thick scarf and gagged with a few strips of thick black tape. Her arms and wrists were bound to the armrests of the deckchair with ropes and tape. Her ankles were bound together with rope. A few ropes, and some tape, were binding her calves, her thighs, and her stomach to the deckchair itself.
The woman was half-naked, only clad in her undergarments. Of course, it wasn’t helping her mood… She was wearing violet socks, purple Brazilian panties with a black waistband strap, and a matching purple push-up bra with black borders and black shoulder straps. Black lace butterflies were adorning the top edges of the bra’s cups and the waistband strap of her panties.
“Don’t tell me you’re still mad I tricked you. I mean, yeah, it was a low blow, I get it. But someone like you should know better than trust dating apps…”
Janice Lincoln – better known as the costumed supervillainess Beetle and the daughter of mob boss Tombstone – moaned angrily, squirmed and jerked, but didn’t break free.
Felicia didn’t regret blindfolding her – she suspected Janice was the type to hold a grudge. She had heard of Kate’s misadventures with revenge-filled villainesses who didn’t appreciate they were conked and humiliated. She didn’t want to replicate them.
“Besides, weren’t you the one planning to rob ‘hotstud8686’? Don’t blame me for turning the tables on you! When you play the game, you accept you can lose!”
Sure, robbing a robber was convoluted. But also a necessary step to get her hands on the Beetle armor.
When Felicia had heard of Janice’s latest scheme – seducing rich men on dating apps, inviting them for a date, and then robbing them – she had known she had an opportunity. She had passed herself for a bored millionaire looking for an adventure with a cute girl, and ensnared her prey. When Janice had discreetly entered the hotel room through the balcony’s window, using her armor to reach the floor from the air, Black Cat was already waiting to ambush her from behind.
Muffled moans brought Felicia to the present. Next to her, Janice had somehow found a way to get even angrier – and was jerking wildly. The deckchair was shaking.
Felicia ignored her. She took a small syringe filled with a knock-out drug. “I know juuuuuust what a grumpy girl like you needs…”
Janice couldn’t see her with the blindfold, but she most likely deduced what was about to happen. She stopped struggling, and moaned muffled pleas while shaking her head.
“Don’t worry. It’ll be even quicker than when you were a little mafia princess, and daddy mobster took you to the doctor for your vaccine shots.”
And indeed it was.
A few minutes later, Janice was deeply asleep.
Felicia wrapped a blanket over the woman, covering her from the mouth to the legs, in case someone somehow got a good look at the balcony. She even swapped the blindfold with a night-mask. Now, from afar Beetle looked like your typical rich socialite taking a nap on her deckchair.
Then Black Cat stripped of her current clothes, and grabbed the discarded Beetle costume and armor lying in a corner behind the balcony’s wall.
Said costume consisted of a black full-body suit and balaclava made of leather, purple soft boots covering the legs from the feet to the mid-thighs, a purple armor protecting her torso, purple long gloves, and a purple eye mask.
Felicia slipped into her disguise. She intended to visit ‘Daddy Tombstone’ under his daughter’s guise – and empty his fault.
And maybe on her way, she’d steal that river of diamonds which had caught her eye in the jewelry across the street, and pin the heist on Beetle...
She deployed the wings of her stolen armor. As expected, getting the hang of the Beetle Armor wasn’t too hard after she’d gotten some practice with Janet’s Wasp Suit.
Felicia took off.
Oh, how great it felt to fly again!
Today, life was going her way.
She could get used to that.
Character descriptions are in the second post.
That one will be much shorter, but thematically it was too far-off from the previous. Consider both the end of the Circus arc but also, and first and foremost, a distant epilogue of the whole "Mary-Jane/Gwen/Felicia Era" of the Marvel: Earth-USB Saga.
Circus Tricks
**************
Act 3
**************
The engine of my motorcycle is blaring while I’m belting along the highway.
The fact my meeting with Tiboldt took place at 1 P.M. is both a blessing and a curse. A curse because it means my pursuers still have hours of daylight to try and locate me. A blessing because it means I can use the crowd to conceal myself.
I used a motorcycle to drive to the circus – and use the same one to flee. A fast means of transport, and a convenient excuse to hide my face with a helmet. I slalom in-between cars.
I know Natasha called SHIELD the first chance she had. My best course of action is to put as much distance in-between me and my pursuers.
But first I need to grab the Chaos Cube.
Of course, I didn’t bring it with me to a potentially dangerous meeting with a woman on Jefferson’s payroll. I left it in my current hideout. That’s where I’m driving.
To the Avengers Campus.
I’ve hidden the Cube in an unused storage room in an unused basement of one of the oldest buildings of the campus.
I chose this place because, really, who’d think an international mercenary and fugitive is hiding here?
Campus are crowded places, full of young people and old teachers from all over the country – and several foreign countries as well. I don’t stand out here – when I use make-up to look a few years younger, I can pass myself for a college girl with ease. Contrary to Natasha, I’ve renounced using a Black Widow suit – I didn’t have the resources to maintain one. I did my best with what I had, and built my combat suit from scratch, but for the untrained eye my outfit looks like biker’s trousers and jacket. My wrist-launchers are discreet – they can pass for bracelets with an original design.
The irony of hiding in a place named after the Avengers is an unwanted bonus.
The truth is that while the campus has been renamed after the well-known group of heroes, it’s just a regular campus. An old one at that. And like all old regular campus, it has plenty of unused basements and storage rooms that were left untouched for years when new buildings were built.
When I arrive to the campus, most students are attending to their classes, and the ones who aren’t don’t pay a second glance to the blond biker chick who seems in a hurry. I’m not the only student who drives a motorcycle – even some teachers do so.
I enter a vast building that’s holding some classrooms. Well, the ones for the courses which are deemed the least important by the dean. It’s an old building, one of the oldest of the campus. This explains that.
The place's old age also means it’s almost as big underground as on the surface, and many of these caves and storage rooms have been left to dust after newer buildings had been built.
I walk the empty corridors, and enter the basement area. The lone janitor is taking his break, so I have no trouble entering the restricted parts of the underground corridors. Once there, I use a flashlight – turning on the lights would be the easiest way to get noticed.
I rush inside a remote big storage room that is now almost empty, save for a few dusty lockers nobody had ever bothered to move or recycle.
Good. The kerosene lamp I left behind is still there. I turn it on. First thing I do, I move a dusty locker, and check the hole I made in the wall.
The Chaos Cube is still inside.
Neither SHIELD nor HYDRA have managed to locate my hideout yet. I feel relieved.
I still have leverage.
They won’t take you back. They’ll take the Cube and kill you.
I close my eyes, and take one long breath, the time to refrain the memory.
Later.
I’ll think of this later.
I’m strong. I’m the one and only Black Widow. I can take it.
As long as I have the Cube, I have options.
I anticipate I’ll have a small moment of respite, but I can’t stay here. I must leave after I check my equipment.
I don’t have the support of SHIELD, nor the one of my Motherland, so I have to carefully manage my resources.
My makeshift combat suit isn’t damaged – good thing I avoided hand-to-hand combat with Natasha. Fixing it would be difficult.
I’ve lost my gun during the fight at the circus, and I’ve used my last flash bomb to escape. Those are severe losses, but hopefully not irreplaceable. Of course I can’t exactly enter a store to buy them legally, but that’s what the black market is for. The problem is I don’t have much money left – Jefferson paid me in information and contacts.
My photostatic veil is in the same hole as the Chaos Cube. I carefully put it in a small case, and strap the latter onto my belt. The veil is my most precious resource after the Cube. If I ever were to damage it, I wouldn’t have the resources or the technical support to repair it. And I know I’ll need it a lot to escape my pursuers during the next weeks.
The darts are an other problem. Without SHIELD’s technical support, I can’t have Widow’s Bites, so I use regular knock-out darts. But even those are hard to replace – especially since I won’t have Jefferson’s help anymore. In my wrist launchers, I only have six knock-out darts left.
I'm in a tight spot. Gotta play my cards right.
Once I’ve checked all my equipment, I get ready to leave.
Suddenly, I feel a tingling in my neck. I just heard faint footsteps in the corridor, sensed a slight air stream.
I trust my instinct.
Behind me!
I swiftly dodge to the right, and turn around in one swift motion. Two darts hit the wall right where I was standing one second ago.
“Would’ve been easier for you had you let yourself be captured like a good girl…”
A woman steps inside the room. Shaggy square-shaped black hair, and green eyes. Green-and-black bodysuit. Scorpion tail and forearm pincers ready for battle.
Elaine Coll. Scorpia. Mercenary-for-hire, just like me right now. Except that contrary to me, she doesn’t have any self-respect and would gladly remain a goon all her life.
I eye her warily. I’m careful to keep my distance by staying at the other side of the room. I’m ready to anticipate the next attack. “What are you doing here?”
“Mr Jefferson sent me. He wants the Cube. And also you, alive if possible.”
“How did you find me?”
“Remember the encrypted phone he gave you to call Tiboldt? There’s a tracking chip inside.”
I feel the weight of the small cellphone strapped onto my belt. Damn! Rookie mistake. Should've remembered it earlier - and gotten rid of it.
No time for regret.
I grin harshly. “The bastard has always wanted to double-cross me, right?”
Scorpia shrugs. “More like has always left the option open.” She wiggles the tail of her suit, and smiles. “Don’t worry babe, your sacrifice won’t be in vain. With the reward money, I’ll treat my Claire to the best restaurant of the city. Now, be a good girl, and I’ll only use paralyzing darts.”
“You speak too much.”
I fire two darts of my own at her with my wrist launchers. People are often caught off guard by my quick-draw. Coll is no exception.
“Shit-”
Scorpia lunges at me. She doesn’t seem hindered by the darts. Does her suit enhance her physical resistance to sleeping drugs? Questions for later!
I dodge and side-step the first swipe of her razor-sharp forearm pincer, careful to watch the scorpion tail at the same time. She anticipates my attempt to hit her exposed back, and swipes the air with her tail, forcing me to jump backwards and retreat to the other side of the room while she turns around.
Now, Coll is angry. She goes for the kill. She uses the forearm pincers of her suit to fire energy blasts at me.
Thankfully, my training doesn’t fail me – even against these unconventional ranged weapons. When Scorpia was still raising her arms, I was already jumping to the side. The blasts pierce two holes in the wall behind me.
While I’m jumping, I shoot two more darts at her. One at her thigh, the other at her stomach.
The sting briefly distracts Scorpia, allowing me to turn my jump into a roll before she can fire her pincers again. But she's still standing. How many knock-out darts will I need?!
Coll screams in rage, feints a second shoot, and instead rushes forward. She tries to skewer me with her scorpion tail.
I roll forward to avoid the sharp edge, and fire a fifth dart almost point blank at her neck.
This time, the scorpion-themed mercenary staggers. The knock-out drug finally begins to overflow her senses.
Unwilling to give her any chance, I take advantage of the opening. I lunge, dodge the swipe of her pincer-armed forearm from below, and punch her in the guts, stunning her.
She coughs, and falls on a knee. “You- You-”
“Don’t worry, babe.” I relish using her own words against her. “These darts will only make you sleep. Though given the dose you just received, don’t expect to wake up before 24 hours. So yeah, sorry for ruining your restaurant date.”
“You- you- bit-” She falls face down, finally succumbing to the sleep drugs, and the floor muffles her insult.
By the time I take a knee to check on her, she’s deeply unconscious.
So Jefferson betrayed me. I can’t even get angry at him. I can only blame myself. I underestimated him. I thought he wouldn’t be a threat because he was in a tight spot. I should’ve known he’d try a desperate move should Sarah’s assassination fail. Taking the Cube and using it as a bargaining chip is his kind of thing.
I search Scorpia, but don’t find anything of value. Then again, it’s not like she has pockets to carry stuff on her dumb bodysuit… A cellphone and a small radar are strapped on her waist belt, but I anticipate the former is bugged just like mine, and the latter’s only use is to track me.
No need to waste time binding her. She’ll be out until tomorrow. I contemplate taking her outfit, but decide against it. A green scorpion-themed bodysuit isn’t exactly discreet in a campus… I technically could use the photostatic veil, but I don’t have a black-haired wig. No. It’s best to leave her there.
Her arrival has probably been remarked. She’s officially on parole, so she’s allowed to roam the city freely, but her association with Orchis and Jefferson is public knowledge. SHIELD and Natalia will easily put two and two together, and deduce the reason why she was dispatched here.
I drop my cellphone next to her, grab my flashlight, and leave the defeated mercenary behind.
**************
I leave the basement area, once again escaping the attention of the lone janitor, and return to the corridors of the classrooms. I take deep breaths to keep a cool head.
This just keeps getting worst and worst. Now I have SHIELD, HYDRA, Natasha, and Orchis all after me.
(Well, Orchis won’t be a problem for long – I just need to wait the end of Jefferson’s trial. But that’s a moot point if a goon on his payroll catches me today.)
There’s a good chance Scorpia wasn’t alone. Maybe other agents of Jefferson are on the way – or are stationed around the building to catch me should Coll fail.
They have my description – including my outfit. Sure, I could try and blend in the crowd of students when they leave their classrooms, but my biker-like outfit stands out too much. I need...
I hear a student open her locker in the corridor nearby.
… an opportunity.
The college girl is in her early twenties, and has a light skin, ashen blond hair, and light green eyes. Her haircut is an angle-bob haircut: the hair framing her face and cheeks reaches down to her chin, but the back is cut shorter. There is a bang on her forehead. She’s wearing a black leather jacket with a grey hood, brown trousers, a greyish green t-shirt, and white sneakers. She’s carrying a light brown backpack.
I notice the blond college student is tall for her age – easily looks a few years older than she truly is. In fact, her clothes could easily fit a woman older than her. A woman like me.
The girl looks a bit guilty – probably skipping class? Whatever her reasons are, I won’t question a stroke of luck. The corridor is empty, save for her and me. She's unlucky.
“Excuse me…”
Usually, I don’t warn a target of my presence, but in this specific occurrence I don’t have any mean to instantly take out this girl at a distance (as shown with Scorpia, knock-out darts aren’t instantaneous and I only have one left), I can’t conceal the sounds of her footsteps if I run, and I need to make sure this girl won’t leave to a more crowded place. The corridor may be empty, but I don’t know for how long.
The girl pauses and turns, interrupted in her thoughts. She isn’t alarmed – she’s in her campus, she doesn’t expect to come across a fugitive on the run.
People rarely do. That usually makes my work easier.
“That’s a nice jacket.” I say.
The girl is now within my reach.
“I like the hood.”
The college girl’s expression turns from surprise and confusion to worry. She has seen my smile. She opens her mouth.
Reflexively, I shoot my last sleeping dart right at the junction between her throat and her shoulder, the best area to put her to sleep quickly, and rushes at her.
She squeaks faintly – more out of surprise than out of pain – but before she can think of actually screaming, I clamp a hand onto her mouth and pin her against the lockers.
The girl’s eyes widen in fear, but she’s not a highly-trained mercenary in an enhanced scorpion suit. The knock-out drug has already begun to take effect.
Logic dictates I should punch her in the throat, but I decide to give her one warning. “You scream, and I have to hurt you.”
She moans in fear, but doesn’t attempt to call for help. She nods faintly. Good girl.
The drug acts a lot faster on this untrained young woman. Soon her eyes roll back, and she goes limp. I locate the nearby maintenance closet. I wrap my arms under the girl’s armpits, and drag her inside. I ease down the falling body, and lays it on the floor. I briefly check my surroundings. Nobody.
Perfect.
I close the door.
Then I realize I just wasted my last knock-out dart.
I mutter a curse under my breath. This was my only reliable ranged weapon left. And I wasted it. I could easily have punched the girl in the throat before she screamed!
Why did I play nice?
So now you're working with low-life crooks to help a slimy businessman kill a girl whose life he ruined. Quite the accomplishment. You must be really proud of yourself.
I still can’t shake Natasha’s words off my head. Is it why I went easy on this girl?
Stay focused. Questions for later.
I remove the blond girl’s backpack, jacket, t-shirt, sneakers, and trousers. Underneath, the college student is wearing white ankles socks, sky blue boyshorts with a black waistband strap, a plain beige t-shirt bra, and a thin black tank top with a picture of Elektra. Apparently, the college student is a big fan.
I frown. Does Elektra have merchandising now? Knowing the woman’s reputation, she probably doesn’t, and some greedy businessman is making money off her image.
Typical American capitalism…
Since I don’t need the tank top, I don’t steal it.
Still, I make sure to properly bind and gag my victim. There are some electric cables on a shelf which I use to bind her legs, her wrists, and her upper-arms. I grab some tape, and use a couple of strips to gag her.
And I also leave her in a corner of the janitor closet, and find a tarp which I throw over her to conceal her. That way, hopefully, she’ll only be found in a couple of hours.
There is being nice, and there is being dumb...
I take off my handmade Black Widow suit, and only keep the wrist launchers. Then I slip into the blonde's outfit.
One minute after I exit the janitor closet, wearing a new set of clothes, with the Chaos Cube hidden in my stolen backpack and using the hood to conceal my head, the bell rings.
I use the cover of the crowd of students to leave the building undetected.
I’m smiling to myself.
**************
Natasha and Kate arrived at the Avengers Campus just in time to see an unconscious Scorpia being transported inside an ambulance on a gurney.
They were however quick to deduce that, unfortunately, whatever had happed here, it had happened hours ago.
For some reason, an other woman – with auburn hair tied into a ponytail – was busy arguing with the police officers supervising the transfer, shouting Elaine was on parole, she had every right to chase after a fugitive, and they were going to be sorry when she’d call her lawyer.
Kate glanced at the woman. “Doesn’t she work for Silver Sable? Goodie. An other forbidden love story.”
The SHIELD agents had found a student of the campus trussed up and gagged in a closet. The college girl had also been drugged, but the dose was a lot smaller than Scorpia’s, so they had been able to wake her up and ask her some questions. The young woman was still in shock, but had been able to give them a description of her mugger and of the clothes which had been stolen.
It was indeed Yelena.
“At least she didn’t harm the girl” Kate commented. “She even left Scorpia’s phone and radar intact so that her position could be traced.”
“If HYDRA or even Russia get their hands on the Chaos Cube, this will be the least of our concerns. I must find her. She has hours of advance on us and-”
Her transmitter bipped. She picked it up. "Yes?"
"Widow, I've just intercepted a police transmission. It may be of interest to you."
"What's it?"
"Report of a mugging. A young woman. Norah Winters. She's a journalist working for the Front Line. Her purse and her car were stolen."
"What does she look like, how was she restrained, and was she in her underwear?"
"Are those details needed?" Kate butted in.
Natasha didn't bother replying. She wasn't doing it to fulfill some fantasy of hers. She was doing it because she needed all the intel - insignificant elements could be important.
"5′8″. 118 lbs. Blue eyes. Chin-length blonde hair. White skin. Her wrists and ankles were bound, and her mouth was cleave-gagged, with strips of clothes. But whoever used them is really good at makeshift ropes, because they were as sturdy as a real cable. Yes, she was in her underwear. White full-cup bra and pink knickers."
"It's Yelena." Natasha deduced. "The fact her victim resembles her is no coincidence. She must have identified that girl as a potential identity she could steal to throw us off weeks ago, when she began working for Jefferson." She then spoke in her communicator: "What clothes were stolen?"
"Dull violet blazer, black t-shirt, blue mesh jeans, and black booties. Also a light brown bracelet on the right wrist and a metal wristwatch on the left."
"Put a search wattant on Winters' car and on all blondes wearing these clothes. Thank you." Natasha cut off the transmission. She explained to Kate: "Yelena is a Widow. She has most likely weaved her web in advance. I wager she learned about Norah Winters when Jefferson had hired her to infiltrate the press conference, and realized that woman would make for a great contingency plan should things go south. I wouldn't be surprised to hear she had studied the habits of Norah Winters, maybe even approached her under a fake ID at some point, just in case she needed to lure her into a trap to steal her identity."
"Quite impressive."
"It's not good." Natasha concluded. "Yelena is moving fast. By the end of the day, she'll probably have stolen an other identity. Maybe she's already had..."
“Still sure you don’t want to bring the rookies? I could even call the Spider-Team.” Kate suggested.
Black Widow shook her head. “Let them enjoy their rest. It’s time SHIELD and I step up our game, and clean our mess ourselves.”
Kate raised an eyebrow. "The beginning of a new adventure, hey?" she joked.
Natasha shrugged. Her face didn't flinch, but Kate could've sworn she had seen the redhead's lips subtly give a hint of a smile. "That's one way of putting it, I suppose."
Epilogue
**************
Some time later...
**************
It was a warm sunny day. Mary-Jane was walking the streets. She had an appointment.
Well, calling it a rendezvous would be more accurate. It was with Peter. He had offered her a drink. Again. And she had accepted. Again.
How much of these ‘meetings’ had they already had? Six? Seven? Eight?
On her way, MJ passed next to a newsstand. She read the main headlines.
William Jefferson Found Guilty! Orchis Dismantled!
Lengthy Prison Sentence For William Jefferson!
William Jefferson Is Finished!
Circus Of Crime Put To Trial!
Dr Alia Gregor Arrested After The Latest Reveals On The Orchis Affair!
Sarah Elizabeth Summers Enters Professor Charles Xavier’s Rehabilitation Program!
Mary-Jane smiled to herself.
Sometimes, being a vigilante felt good, no matter how broke one was because of said vigilantism.
She resumed her walk, and went to the terrace of the café.
The redhead took a deep breath, and sat behind one table. Peter wasn’t here yet. Usually, the lady was supposed to be the one fashionably late, but then again Mary-Jane wasn’t a ‘lady’ anyway.
She didn’t know what to think of Peter’s invitation. To be honest, she hadn’t known what to think of all his previous invitations for drinks either. In fact, she didn’t know what to think of the whole situation.
Her friends said they were dating, but really all they did was share a few drinks from time to time, talk together, enjoy each other’s company...
Okay, maybe they were dating.
Felicia had always said she was denser than a black hole when it came to romance, but the truth was more that Mary-Jane lacked experience. She never truly had a chance to properly romance someone. Home life hadn’t exactly been nice when she was living with her alcoholic father, and then she had spent all her time struggling and failing. Struggling and failing at her art studies. Struggling and failing at her theater career. Struggling and failing at finding a decent job.
She never had had the time for romance.
Until Peter, at least.
Come to think of it, maybe she shouldn’t always leave the bill to him… It wasn’t exactly fair...
Mary-Jane took her phone to check her bank account, sighing in advance at the prospect of facing her disastrous financial situation.
Her eyes almost jumped out of their sockets when she saw the number of zeroes on her current account.
She immediately called Kate’s number.
“Yeah?”
“Kate! What’s the meaning of this?!”
“What? I told you you’d get paid for your part in the mission.”
“I thought you already did! The money you gave to my landlord, back when you recruited me!”
“That was the advance.”
“You didn’t tell me!”
“Must’ve forgotten.”
(And Mary-Jane swore she could hear Kate’s shrug and little grin in her voice.)
“And the little extra?”
“For your date with Peter today.”
“How do you-” Mary-Jane paused. Realization dawned upon her. “It’s Gwen! She snitched on me!”
“Go get him, girl!” Kate hung up.
Mary-Jane thought of calling her again to argue some more, but gave up. She glanced one last time at her bank account. Sure, she hadn’t become a millionaire – far from it. But for the first time in her adult life, she wasn’t on the brink of eviction each month. If she managed her finances effectively, and kept working her part-time jobs, she’d forever be free from want. Heck, maybe she’d even have the time to study and get a better job!
“Sorry, I’m late.” Peter sat on the chair in front of her. He leaned forward, and added with a whisper: “Some… you know… Spider Stuff...”
Mary-Jane found herself blushing – her cheeks turning a faint shade of rose.
Today, life was going her way.
She could get used to that.
**************
“You don’t mind you missed all the action?”
“Why should I? It’s never been about the fame.”
Gwen and Miles were nested in a web hammock on top of a skyscraper. They didn’t care about the height – they’d done far worst when swinging from building to building.
At least, here, they could take off their masks in peace.
“Peter should’ve arrived at the café by now.” Miles commented. “You sure MJ won’t get mad at you for snitching on her?”
Gwen smiled faintly. “Please, I’m Ghost Spider. I always have a contingency plan.”
“Which is?”
“Hide somewhere until her temper dies down. That is, if she even gets angry at all. It’s the seventh date – eighth if Peter truly managed to sneak behind my back that one time. According to my calculations, she and Peter should reach the next step in their relationship today. If they exchange their first kiss, I anticipate she’ll be so flustered she won’t even remember me spilling the beans.”
“You know you’re being a bit shrewd right now…” Miles jokingly teased her with a light elbow nudge.
She elbow-nudged back. “I guess Felicia is rubbing off on me a little.”
Miles chuckled, and leaned back in the hammock, gazing at the sky and clouds. “So, you’re going to hide somewhere till tomorrow…”
Gwen leaned back next to him. “Would you agree to… hide with me?” she whispered in his ear.
Miles paused briefly. “You’re also getting bold.”
Gwen smiled, and kissed him on the lips. Then she leaned against him, and nested her head on his shoulder. She closed her eyes when he wrapped an arm around her to pull her close.
Today, life was going her way.
She could get used to that.
**************
From her vantage point, Felicia observed the café’s terrace with her binoculars. She saw Peter and Mary-Jane talking over drinks and pastries.
She, of course, couldn’t make out what they were saying. However, Mary-Jane’s body language was a telltale sign.
And there was the way her hand was resting on Peter’s while she talked...
“Finally making some progress, uh?” Felicia commented to herself. “About time, if you ask me...”
She turned around, and used her binoculars once again.
Gwen and Miles were cuddling on their web hammock. It was adorable how chaste these two looked even when they were all lovey-dovey. Felicia would pay good money to know if her suspicions were correct, and Gwen truly had a secret kinky side…
“Good, good…” she muttered to herself.
No, she wasn’t spying on the love life of her four closest friends! (Or was it frien-emies?) Well, mostly not.
It was first and foremost for business.
The cat burglar grinned shrewdly. With these four do-gooders busy cooing and cuddling, her coast was clear.
Felicia nodded to herself, and did a small mental recap.
Team Awesome was history – Screwball and Trapstr were serving their time in jail, Taylor and Charlotte were on an other continent, Sarah was beginning the long and arduous process known as ‘rehabilitation’, and Jenna was without a boss after the whole ‘chess-themed gang debacle’.
Speaking of dumb gangs, White Rabbit was still behind bars – so the Wonderland Gang was history as well – and most of the Circus of Crime was bound to join her after their trial.
Mystique didn’t show any sign of recovering from her vegetative state.
Orchis and Jefferson were finally history – good riddance.
Silver Sable was having trouble holding her company together now that her second-in-command was in a relationship with Scorpia.
And even the AVENGERS, SHIELD, and the NYPD were weakened by the latest scandals surrounding the reveals of how easily they had been ridiculed by uniform thieves.
The city was now her playground!
Felicia put her binoculars away, and spoke to the woman lying on a deckchair next to her.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to wait here for a few hours.”
Felicia was standing on the balcony at the 42th floor of a prestigious high-class hotel – the kind of balcony which was bigger than some living rooms, with a private pool, two deckchairs, a parasol, and a small cocktail bar.
Black Cat’s comment was answered by angry muffled groans.
“Look at the bright side. It’s a warm day. I’m even leaving the parasol for you.”
More angry muffled groans.
“Some people just can’t be pleased…”
The woman restrained to the deckchair had short chin-long dark brown hair with pointy edges and bangs, orange brown eyes, a slim body with well-toned legs, and a tanned skin – proof her mother was Latina.
She was blindfolded with a thick scarf and gagged with a few strips of thick black tape. Her arms and wrists were bound to the armrests of the deckchair with ropes and tape. Her ankles were bound together with rope. A few ropes, and some tape, were binding her calves, her thighs, and her stomach to the deckchair itself.
The woman was half-naked, only clad in her undergarments. Of course, it wasn’t helping her mood… She was wearing violet socks, purple Brazilian panties with a black waistband strap, and a matching purple push-up bra with black borders and black shoulder straps. Black lace butterflies were adorning the top edges of the bra’s cups and the waistband strap of her panties.
“Don’t tell me you’re still mad I tricked you. I mean, yeah, it was a low blow, I get it. But someone like you should know better than trust dating apps…”
Janice Lincoln – better known as the costumed supervillainess Beetle and the daughter of mob boss Tombstone – moaned angrily, squirmed and jerked, but didn’t break free.
Felicia didn’t regret blindfolding her – she suspected Janice was the type to hold a grudge. She had heard of Kate’s misadventures with revenge-filled villainesses who didn’t appreciate they were conked and humiliated. She didn’t want to replicate them.
“Besides, weren’t you the one planning to rob ‘hotstud8686’? Don’t blame me for turning the tables on you! When you play the game, you accept you can lose!”
Sure, robbing a robber was convoluted. But also a necessary step to get her hands on the Beetle armor.
When Felicia had heard of Janice’s latest scheme – seducing rich men on dating apps, inviting them for a date, and then robbing them – she had known she had an opportunity. She had passed herself for a bored millionaire looking for an adventure with a cute girl, and ensnared her prey. When Janice had discreetly entered the hotel room through the balcony’s window, using her armor to reach the floor from the air, Black Cat was already waiting to ambush her from behind.
Muffled moans brought Felicia to the present. Next to her, Janice had somehow found a way to get even angrier – and was jerking wildly. The deckchair was shaking.
Felicia ignored her. She took a small syringe filled with a knock-out drug. “I know juuuuuust what a grumpy girl like you needs…”
Janice couldn’t see her with the blindfold, but she most likely deduced what was about to happen. She stopped struggling, and moaned muffled pleas while shaking her head.
“Don’t worry. It’ll be even quicker than when you were a little mafia princess, and daddy mobster took you to the doctor for your vaccine shots.”
And indeed it was.
A few minutes later, Janice was deeply asleep.
Felicia wrapped a blanket over the woman, covering her from the mouth to the legs, in case someone somehow got a good look at the balcony. She even swapped the blindfold with a night-mask. Now, from afar Beetle looked like your typical rich socialite taking a nap on her deckchair.
Then Black Cat stripped of her current clothes, and grabbed the discarded Beetle costume and armor lying in a corner behind the balcony’s wall.
Said costume consisted of a black full-body suit and balaclava made of leather, purple soft boots covering the legs from the feet to the mid-thighs, a purple armor protecting her torso, purple long gloves, and a purple eye mask.
Felicia slipped into her disguise. She intended to visit ‘Daddy Tombstone’ under his daughter’s guise – and empty his fault.
And maybe on her way, she’d steal that river of diamonds which had caught her eye in the jewelry across the street, and pin the heist on Beetle...
She deployed the wings of her stolen armor. As expected, getting the hang of the Beetle Armor wasn’t too hard after she’d gotten some practice with Janet’s Wasp Suit.
Felicia took off.
Oh, how great it felt to fly again!
Today, life was going her way.
She could get used to that.
