Chapter 15
Warning: I do not own Spider-Man, nor this Story.
This story deserves to be available to readers to read, apologies for format if there is problem with the lines and sentences as it was pulled from a PDF.
15. Alliance and Betrayal
- Summary - 10 years after the bite, and he was reunited with the symbiote. He was separated from MJ, but he'd found another woman to lean on. With his newfound strength, he was ruthless; unstoppable even. It was too perfect to last when an old foe crept back, back and better than ever. All was not as it seemed with our hero. He was back in black, but no for long. -SpiderCat/SpiderSable-MA*
OoOoO Symkarian Speech OoOoO*
"Example…" - Normal, Speech said in English with or without a Symkarian accent
" Example… " - Italics, Speech is said in Symkarian
Alliance and Betrayal*
- Felicia Hardy - Subway Lair - Four hours later - 05:04PM -
Felicia Hardy, looking as miserable as always, sat on a metal piece of construction that was against the wall, half-lying there with her elbow on the surface and her hand supporting her jaw. The feline beauty watched the busy scientists and engineers rush past her, left and right, while goons sat around a round table far in her vision, chugging a couple of beers. For once, Felicia was there without wearing any make-up, the bags clearly visible beneath her tired eyes. She wore black joggers that hugged her legs and rear-end tightly, with two white stripes running down each outer side of her legs, and two white laces coming from the front waist part of her leg wear. She wore white trainers, with black accents and logos. Her upper body clothing consisted of a simple, plain-white T-Shirt, with a burgundy full-sleeved overcoat. The coat was left unbuttoned, exposing the shirt beneath. Her nails had been painted red, with her hair dyed blond. Her clothing didn't really match with the overcoat, but it is what it is.
"I'm guessing you've been like that for quite a while now, hm?" Felicia heard, and she looked over to her right to see her boss in his new-and-improved battlesuit, a sphere-shaped storage capsule in hand.
"Been like what?" Felicia asked.
Her boss simply walked past her, heading into one of the rooms. It was a room full of weapons, gadgets, blueprints, battlesuits etc. You could say it was a type of archive or armory or so. The villain took the tightly-sealed capsule, opening a glass cabinet and carefully placing it inside. Shutting the cabinet door until it clicked to signify it locked, he placed two fingers to the back of his head, pushing down on a button. The metallic mask he wore suddenly shifted the components to protrude outwards; from one whole mask, the tightened locks that kept it together unlocked, loosening the security and grip the helmet had on his head. With that, using both hands, he gripped the sides of the helmet, pulling it off over his head. With a cold expression, he held the helmet at his chest and looked down at it, as if staring at his own reflection in a mirror. His charred, burnt face just looked at it for a while, as if lost in identity. Or, it could just be the mask. It wasn't the vicious, human teeth imitation, or the colour of the skin that got you -
no - it was the eyes. The LEDs implanted in the lenses that made them glow a bleeding red didn't help in anyway in making the poor soul in front of them feel any better. Once you were an inch away from that face, looking straight into those hellish, heart-wrenching eyes, you knew you were staring into the face of the devil himself. The boss left the helmet on a desk in the room, then continuing through the armory.
Still inside the room, he looked over to Felicia lazing around on her phone, and he shook his head and groaned. Before he left the room, he walked back to one of the shelves on his left, until he came up to a rack of shelves stocked with serums, poisons and medicines. He took a syringe from the top-left corner of the shelf, and then he crouched down to the bottom to collect a vial of benzodiazepine in liquid form, a sedative used for anxiety reduction, muscle relaxation, and, as the name suggests, sedation. Turning the lid of the vial anti-clockwise, he took it off and placed it on the ground next to him. He took the syringe and submerged the needle into the liquid, while still crouched. He pulled back the piston and sucked up half the liquid
on the vial, until the syringe was full, and he re-closed the vial and put it back on the shelf. He stood up with the loaded syringe in his possession, and he made his way out of the armory.
Heading over to Felicia with the syringe behind his back, he resumed the conversation as if nothing had happened since.
"You've been lazing around idly rather than doing something productive, Miss Hardy," he spoke, turning his back on her to signal one of his henchmen over to him. The henchman nodded once from a distance, and slowly made his way over, through the crowd of scientists, specialists and other goons and thugs.
"Lazing? I'm just bored, old man. None of this is any fun," Felicia moaned, still looking down at her phone as she lay down, not making eye contact with her boss.
"I'm sorry; bored, did you say?" he asked, disappointed, but not at all surprised, "Bored, Miss Hardy?"
"Yeah. Bored," she spoke with an attitude, furrowing her eyebrows and gently biting the inside of her right cheek as she put her phone away and looked up at him. "You know, I'm starting to think this is all a bunch of bullshit. If we're killing SpiderMan; if I'm getting revenge, for him murdering my father, then me getting framed for it, then when? When? I may as well just leave now and go back to being a stray cat. It suits me."
Tolerating her behaviour, he spoke calmly, "You have a better chance of success with me. The public reputation you and he made for yourselves got the NYPD on your tail. You're safer here, too."
Annoyed, Felicia shot him a look, then spoke frantically, "Safer?! You could've killed me when you swooped over and blew up OsCorp with me in it!"
Having lost his patience with her, he finally snapped, "But I didn't kill you, did I?! Blowing up OsCorp was a deed that needed to be done! Tombstone had tested the formula without knowing he'd be played, killing of Kingpin
with him being blown to bits, and that's all I needed. The competition were out of the picture, and besides, it was the last standing part of Norman Osborn's legacy, and now it's finally gone!"
"Why are you so obsessed with… Norman Osborn?" Felicia asked, almost surprised, "This is actually ridiculous!"
"You're one to talk," he replied in that familiar, devilish tone, continuing with, "He made me into this! That weak, pathetic idiot made me into this sick, dying being because he didn't have the spine to finish what he started! It's too late to fix it now! The only reason I'm alive is because of that damn temporal serum! But Osborn, that damn bastard survived an explosion from his own bomb, but good riddance is all I spat when his own glider impaled him in the chest!"
Felicia scoffed, "I'm outta here," and she got up to leave, only to bump into the henchman that had been there for a while now. She rolled her eyes and barged past him.
The boss got close to his goon, making eye-contact with him towards Felicia behind her back, at the same time slipping the syringe into his hand.
"I'm sorry, Felicia. But we need you with us. You're a valuable pawn in this twisted game of chess," he spoke with evil pride, smirking.
Felicia turned to look at him, confused, but her eyes widened when she felt a sharp pain in the side of her neck. The henchman held the syringe, pushing the piston with gritted teeth as liquid travelled through the needle and into Felicia's bloodstream. She felt her head get light, and her muscles relax. As the henchman removed the needle, yanking it out with a few droplets of blood, and droplets of the sedative, Felicia's senses began to fade, and she uncontrollably fell to the ground as her vision blacked out.
The henchman pocketed the syringe, turning towards his boss. The boss was kneeling down, tucking a strand of hair behind Felicia's ear. He devilishly smiled as he picked up Felicia's head and rested it on his knee.
"It's going to seem funny, with Felicia sealing her own fate with the same serum she stole from Symkaria. Would've been for the SpiderMan, she must've thought. Or, should we call this liquid device a bomb? It's the perfect pressure point to keep Felicia in check - if not - she'll listen after I show her the second one. Prepare the med bay; this liquid explosive's really going to pay off," the chaotic villain spoke to the goon beside him, as he signaled two other henchman to carry Felicia and clean up his mess.
- SpiderMan/Silver Sable - Symkarian Embassy - Medical Wing - 05:10PM -
SpiderMan sat on a medical bed, a Symkarian doctor tending to the leg wound. Of course, taking off the suit would've been too much of a hastle, and Peter wouldn't expect any privacy anyway. Not to mention, Peter's secret identity. With a lot of effort, he managed to enlarge the tear in his suit with his bear hands, just enough so that the wound was accessible. It wasn't a gaping hole; it was only about a centimeter away in diameter from the bullet wound. And through all of his amazing spider-strength, he was still wincing from the pain.
The bullet had been removed hours ago; as soon as Spidey and Sable reached the Embassy to be exact; now it was just a simple matter of a bandage change. Peter sat, watching the doctor at work, wincing behind his mask at the mild pain, although, it didn't hurt as much as he expected it to. Next to them, there was a desk, with a tray on top, containing the bullet that sat in drizzles of blood, next to used, bloodied bandages, as well as his web-shooters, a good distance away from the radioactive liquid. Peter, as any other human being would be, was glad to see the specks of blood shrink after each bandage he went through. Unless, of course, the blood in his body has been lost; the thought crossed his mind. But no, he reassured himself, he would've lost consciousness, or at least felt light-headed. None of that had happened, luckily. It wouldn't, not with a gunshot wound in this kind of lucky placing, at least. There was a tub of painkillers on the tray too, though he's only used one or two. Not that he needed them anyway - it was only a bullet wound to the leg - he thought. It was practically nothing to him, compared to his other numerous battle wounds.
The male doctor had just finished changing the latest bandage, and Spidey, still sitting with his legs dangling off the side of the bed, gave the doc a nod to say thanks when the doctor stood up from his low stance. The doctor nodded back and left him to attend other patients. Peter could stand and walk, and he knew it. He could've done so even without the treatment, though it wouldn't be as stable. Anyway, it was just the fact that he simply didn't want to. It's been ages since he's had a real lie-down. That fiasco with Scorpion lead to him spending a night in a Junkyard. Oof. But now, he thought, he should take the proper rest while he could. But knowing the good old Parker luck, there wasn't a single chance he'd get the sleep he utterly craves.
Still, he tried to make the most of it, and he lay back down on the bed, on top of the sheets and pillow, closing his eyes and trying to get some shut-eye. Just as he got as close as he could to comfortable, he heard footsteps slowly travelling, but decided to brush it off. He could hear light breathing directly beside him for a couple of seconds, and he decided to open one eye behind the mask. He reluctantly sat up against the bed, opening both eyes when he noticed the Symkarian beauty watching him with her arms folded, dressed in the same training gear as the one she wore after her arrival in New York; grey, cotton-bottoms and a white vest, but this time she also wore black boots, and a silver, leather jacket. Peter noticed the amplification of her features in her clothing as his eyes saw her up and down, but he quickly dismissed the thought.
Sable relaxed her arms, letting them hang casually beside her. She began to speak calmly, "A small bullet to your leg; removed four hours ago, and awesome spider-powers. Yet, you are lying there like you are on your deathbed. Surely, you can walk, SpiderMan?"
SpiderMan groaned quickly and smugly replied with clear false-hope in his voice, "Doctor's orders?"
Sable rolled her eyes at him, then put a hand on her waist, as she spoke, " That specific doctor is not bilingual. And he is Symkarian. You would not understand him; neither would he you."
Peter groaned quietly and jokingly as he threw his legs off the bed towards the side, and he sat facing towards her. "Sorry; I'm just trying to rest. Haven't had decent shut-eye in a while," he spoke, as he pushed his feet against the ground so he could stand up, "And yes, I can walk…"
Spidey winced at the minor pain, but it was no big deal; he could handle this easily. SpiderMan looked at Silver Sable, who returned a disciplined stare, before he began to speak, "This whole treatment thing wasn't necessary, Sable. But thank you, anyway. But no thank you for shooting me in the leg… even though I could handle it… even without this treatment. But thank you."
Silver Sable crossed her arms again, tilting her head, before chuckling slightly. "If I recall correctly, you decided to come with me to the Embassy. To get the bullet removed."
SpiderMan kept his shoulders high in a state of shrugging, "Yeah… but it wasn't necessary. And wait… you really think my powers are awesome?" He asked, relaxing his arms but rotating his head slightly and raising an eyebrow while looking at her.
Doctors came and went for the couple of seconds Sable stood staring at him, not sure on how to reply other than breaking the short silence with, "We've known each other for almost a decade, SpiderMan. And yet, you act like such a child."
Peter quickly butted in with, "Hey, it's part of my charm, right?"
Ignoring him, Silver Sable motioned for him to follow her as she began walking past other stretchers, patients and doctors in the medical wing. SpiderMan grabbed his favorite toys from the tray, snapping on the twin-shooters, and he hastily followed, trying his best to keep his mouth zipped. For a few seconds, Peter ended up trailing behind her when he felt his head to light - the scary part was that it wasn't from the gunshot. Sable hadn't noticed Peter was standing with a hand to his head, and she continued walking. Peter shook it off and then picked himself up, catching up with her again with some speed. They exited the medical wing, Silver Sable turning left, with SpiderMan following. Finally replying to his question, she spoke,
"Yes. I think your powers are awesome. They look fun to use, and seem to be effective in combat, judging from the way you took out the Symkarian agents after taking a fresh gunshot wound. I believe it would make daily life entertaining, and life easier."
Peter took in the last of her words, thinking back to his early - and recent -years of being SpiderMan. Not about the positives, but the negatives instead. The bullying in high school, being late to classes, his grades declining, family feuds, villains, friends, broken relationships; the whole lot. Aunt May, Mary Jane, and now Felicia Hardy.
Back in the real world, he spoke, based on those thoughts, "Trust me, Sable. You have no idea." And as he finished those words, Peter could swear he felt like his head was going to drop off his body. He had absolutely no idea why, and he already felt sweat trickle down his face from behind his mask. He stumbled as the feeling of being light-headed returned, but he followed Sable nevertheless. This time, though, she took his behaviour into consideration.
She turned to look at him as he walked blindly, looking down with a hand on his forehead. Peter's senses were blocked for a second, as if he was losing consciousness, but he soon regained them, and he shook his head. Nearly a split-second before he walked blindly into his companion, Sable firmly put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him, the firm but mild impact almost waking him up from his state.
"SpiderMan? Are you alright?" She asked, holding his upper arm, squeezing his bicep in a friendly, worried manner.
"Yeah, I'm just… tired, I guess," Peter replied, placing his hand on hers, kindly but wordlessly asking her to remove it, so she slipped her hand out from under his.
He shook his head and exhaled sharply, "Where are we going exactly?" Peter asked.
Silver Sable took a turn left in the hallway, avoiding Spidey's question. Peter wearily followed, still feeling a little dizzy, though quickening his
pace. They continued down the hallway, Peter admiring the colour-scheme of the place; rich chocolate browns for the wooden walls and ceilings, with yellow-green wallpaper. The walls were decorated with photos and artwork, some containing images of Sable herself, as well as her agents, and simple images of everyday-life in Symkaria. Sable pushed open a double-door to her left, entering a room with Sable Agents. Peter followed her in, ignoring as agents looked up from their booze, training and card games to look at him. He followed Sable into another single-door in the corner of the room, almost into a private booth, and her and SpiderMan both took a seat opposite each other around a polished table, as the agents continued their activities.
"So, SpiderMan. I believe we were going to have a conversation about… a ll of this?" she asked, her mind automatically switching to interrogation mode. "Unless of course, you'd rather have me kick the answers out of you," she joked, keeping a straight face.
"Well," Peter began, leaning back, almost sinking into the seat, "It's actually a really long story."
Sable did the same, leaning back into her seat, making eye-contact with him, though she didn't really know where to look in his lenses. She watched his eyes as a sign that she wanted him to go on.
Spidey sighed, beginning the story. "Well… I'll try to make it as short as I can. Let's just say… It all started with a tragedy. That tragedy lead to anger, anger to more tragedy, more tragedy to depression, anger and all that. Years later, old Spidey here's still emotional about it. Then, recently, he turns to a living alien suit for comfort - it's my notorious black suit by the way."
Sable interrupted him, saying, "Your suit… is an alien?" She shook it off, speaking, "So how does Felicia Hardy and the 'criminal' SpiderMan fit into all this?"
"I'm getting there," Pete replied, before gripping his stomach with the palm and fingertips of his right hand, as it growled at an unpleasant volume. He groaned, "I-I apologise. Are you hungry? Because, I'm clearly really hungry," sometimes, he thought, maybe enhanced metabolism was a bad
thing. Peter swears it can burn through food quicker than even his reflexes and reaction-time.
Sable, startled from the sudden noise and change of mood, shook her head with her eyes wide, almost embarrassed herself. "No… no, not really," she spoke, clearing her throat, back to her normal self. "What, do you want a sandwich or something? A sub, maybe?"
"If it's not any trouble, then sure. A sub's fine, thanks," Peter replied, before his stomach growled once more, him apologising for it.
"I'll have one prepared, SpiderMan. Give me a second," Sable spoke, before hastily standing up and rushing out of the room.
Peter sat there still, coming out of the back of the seat and hunching over, waiting for her return. As he did so, he felt the sense of light-headedness return to him. He put a hand on his temple as gravity pulled his head forward in his weakened state. A sense of weakness and dizziness washed over him, and Peter almost fell out of his seat. The spider felt himself losing consciousness, and before he completely toppled over, he pointed an arm to the ceiling, firing a web to counter-balance his weight as he pulled against it. Peter groaned, one hand on his head, the second by his side, holding the dual web-lines in a tight fist. He felt his consciousness slipping, but he fought against it, his fist tightening as he clenched both of the web-lines, his fist beginning to shake. He shook his head, taking in a deep breath as the feeling subsided overtime. He still looked down, his eyes droopy and tired. He hasn't realised that he was still pulling against the web-lines, until he heard a splinter of wood snap above him. His head darted upwards and he sighed when he saw a small crack in the ceiling, originating from the point he was pulling on his web.
Peter's fist stopped shaking as he released the webs, and he cursed under his breath at what he just did to the ceiling. "What the hell's going on with me?" he wondered, massaging his temples. The feeling of weakness completely subsided, and he stood up to regain his composure, breathing and stretching. He cracked his knuckles and bones, then he whispered a curse, feeling his stomach digest itself in and growl, due to hunger. The webs hung beside him, clearly open in view for Silver Sablinova as she
opened the door and walked in with a foot-long sub, wrapped in a sandwich bag.
As soon as she walked in, the Queen of Symkaria noticed the damage to her ceiling, and the two webs hanging loosely besides an idle SpiderMan, who stood awkwardly upon noticing her arrival. She tossed him the sub, and with inhuman reflexes, Peter shot his hand out and caught it perfectly. He held it to his side, shrugging his shoulders at Sable as she nodded towards her cracked ceiling.
"You really could not behave yourself for two minutes?" she asked him, walking besides him and slightly pulling on the webs.
Peter, even though knowing it wouldn't get him out of the danger zone, replied with, "Exercising accident."
Sable yanked the webs weakly, ignoring him as specks of dust dropped down from the damaged ceiling. "How the hell did this happen in an 'exercising accident' SpiderMan? And that too, with a gunshot wound in your leg?" she asked him calmly, turning to look at him, seeing directly through his lie. "Whatever. Sit down," she spoke, as she went over to sit opposite him.
Peter sat down, first removing his web-shooters, then removing his gloves. He placed them onto the seat next to him, as Sable leaned back and kicked up her legs onto the table, crossing them as she sank back into her seat. Just now Peter had realised how pink and badly bruised his knuckles were compared to the whiter part of his skin. He clenched and relaxed his hand, surprisingly clean and not really sweaty. Peter took the long sub out of the bag, and then him and Sable shared a look, with Peter looking back at his food. He tore the foot-long sub in half, wordlessly offering Silver Sable a piece that was still half in the bag, and her eyebrows raised in surprise. She sat back up in her seat, her legs coming down off the table, still polished to a mirror-sheen.
Peter began to speak, "I know I said I was hungry, but I'd feel pretty bad if you had to sit there watching me eat alone whilst listening to me talk. It's
not much, and I guess it seems kinda goofy, but… want some? It's the least I could do anyway."
Sable shook her head, with a neutral facial expression. "Thank you, but I'm fine, Spider," she replied.
Peter held the remaining half of the sandwich over to her nevertheless, but not so much that it seemed like he was forcing it. He replied, "I insist. Come on, don't tell me you're not even a little bit hungry after coming back into the road with a couple of trucks to pick up those unconscious soldiers. You know, whilst the doctor was patching me up? Go ahead."
The queen then accepted it, taking it from him, speaking, "Dammit, SpiderMan. Fine. Besides, I guess I am hungry."
Peter lifted up his mask from halfway up his neck, all the way to the top of his nose, leaving his bare mouth and nose exposed. He hadn't even noticed it yet, through all the recent anarchy, but brown stubble began to grow very slightly - it was only noticeable from a close proximity. It dotted his jawline and chin, connecting to his sideburns underneath the mask, as well as around his mouth where a mustache would form.
Within a second, Peter and Sable both took their first bites into the sandwich, admiring the flavours and textures. The slight, but tasty roughnees of the toasted Italian bread, filled with spicy, tantalising tandoori chicken tikka and other ingredients burst a bomb of flavour in their mouths. The heat came from the jalape os and chicken, whilst other mouth-watering flavours came from sweet-corn, black and green olives, grilled onion, bell peppers, lettuce, and the cheese melted over the ingredients.
Both ate politely, Peter severely enjoying the taste of the sandwich, savoring every little ingredient, texture and taste as he swallowed the delicious concoction.
Sable began after swallowing a few bites, "Well? Want to continue the story, SpiderMan?"
SpiderMan chewed and swallowed a bite, his face slightly red from the spiciness, although it didn't bother him much. He nodded, beginning to talk about the whole story so far. Every chapter of the book he's recently been a part of, starting off with running into Felicia Hardy that very same night he took back the symbiote.
- Felicia Hardy - Subway Lair - 06:11PM -
Felicia Hardy still lay unconscious on a table, strapped in by her arms and legs. Her burgundy, full-sleeved overcoat had been removed, and she lay there in her white shirt and joggers, her shoes having been removed as she lay bare-foot. She was in a mini-lab within the lab, asleep and unaware of the life-changing procedure she is about to go through. Around her stood her boss, who eyed her with a smug grin, as he moved her platinum-blond hair out of the way of the right side of her head, and under her head, exposing a clear patch of the bare-skin on her neck.
"Alright doctor," he spoke, turning away from the unconscious body, "Make this quick. She'll be conscious soon. Wasn't a strong tranq. Then again, you do have the tools to sedate her."
With that, he left the room, whilst doctors in white lab-coats began to surround their patient. The lead doctor ordered his men around, whilst he picked up a fine syringe, loaded with the liquid explosive stolen from Symkaria. The rest of the doctors began sterelising equipment for the procedure, whilst the lead doctor carefully penetrated the syringe through Felicia's white skin, sinking it into a vein in her neck. Felicia was still tranquilised, not reacting or feeling a thing. Without hesitation, the doctor pushed the piston, sending the lethal liquid straight into her bloodstream, the veins around the injection site becoming black and visible beneath the skin.
The crime boss ignored and walked past his thugs and employees, his head down as he rushed over to his armory, holding his hand over his mouth as he began to violently cough.
"Dmitri," he began, talking into an earpiece, striding over towards a shelf of neon-green liquids in separate vials, of seperate colour-shades, all labelled
differently. He ran his finger right-to-left on the highest shelf, stopping at the latest vial in the middle of them all. This latest one glew the brightest green, and was labeled as 'GG-XO-56'.
After an approximate 30 seconds, he heard a reply in his earpiece radio.
"Boss. Forget the assassination attempt. I've found what we're looking for. That immunity booster; the one that should be able to cure your dying cells, I've found it," Chameleon replied to him.
He listened in to Chameleon's information, rushing over to a mirror; specifically the one in his bathroom. He exited the armory, dodging past people, the serum in hand. He entered the bathroom, slamming and locking the door shut behind him. He coughed once, his lungs starting to ache as he slumped over the sink.
"Excellent work, Dmitri," he replied, suppressing a cough. "I'll get Gargan and Hardy on board. Rendezvous at the same bar, 08:00 today. Out."
As soon as he hung up, he coughed violently, his hands shaking and crushing the metal sink below him. He began coughing up blood, red-black, polluted blood sprinkling and staining the sink and mirror. He held the vial tighter, tearing off the lid as he coughed. In a giant swig, Spidey's greatest foe drank the whole serum, the green glop running through his system as the veins bulged beneath his skin. His cough subsided, and he slammed his fist against the sink, splintering the metal, shards drawing blood from his clenched fists.
"DAMMIT!" he roared, looking into the mirror with bulging eyes and clenched teeth. He saw his own reflection, then saw inside of his reflection. What he appeared to be, and what he really was. "DAMN YOU NORMAN! NO MORE!" he yelled, driving his fist into the mirror, shattering it and showing multiple reflections of himself. "YOU WEAK BASTARD WON'T EXIST! THERE IS ONLYTHE GREEN GOBLIN NOW! REBORN, AND BETTER THAN EVER!" he yelled, the Green Goblin spiking up once again.
- Meanwhile - SpiderMan/Silver Sable - Symkarian Embassy - 06:11PM -
"That is a lot to take in, SpiderMan," Sable spoke, having heard the full story.
"So. I guess we're after the same people. Our interests align, at least," Peter replied, snapping his web-shooters back over his gloves. "And it will make it easier for both of us…"
Silver Sable grinned, "Are you suggesting we should work together? As partners?"
Peter pulled down the rest of his mask, accidentally brushing against a button that toggled on his night-vision. He toggled it back off, remembering the upgrades he had nearly forgotten. "So, partners, then?" Peter held out his hand.
Sable reached over and shook it, nodding, "Partners, then."
*A/N* *I'm loving the reviews; I'm reading every one. Keep them coming, and I'll keep dishing out the chapters as fast as possible. I know I've been slow, but will try to update at least monthly, but if I can, I will definitely update faster. There will be a larger amount of story progression next chapter compared to this one; I'm sorry, as I feel there wasn't much in this chapter. Oh well. Anyway, don't forget to leave a review!*
End of Chapter 15.