The Art of Balance
Peter was swinging through the city again, the sun beginning to set behind the skyscrapers, casting a warm orange glow over everything. His thoughts were jumbled as usual—split between Felicia’s text messages, the briefing Tony had mentioned, and Aunt May’s lasagna.
How does anyone balance all this? Superhero, Avenger, nephew, and—whatever he was with Felicia?
As he swung toward Felicia’s latest meeting point—a sleek rooftop near Soho—his Spidey Sense wasn’t tingling, but his gut instinct warned him that tonight might bring more than a typical “hangout.” Felicia had a talent for making things interesting.
Landing smoothly, Peter pulled off his mask, tucking it into his belt. He scanned the rooftop for Felicia but saw no sign of her. Instead, the faint sound of heels clicking on metal caught his attention. He turned just in time to see Felicia emerge from the shadows, dressed in her Black Cat outfit, looking every bit as dangerous and alluring as always.
“You’re late,” she purred, her signature smirk already on her lips.
Peter rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Had some ‘Avengers stuff’ to deal with. You know how it is.”
Felicia crossed her arms, cocking her head playfully. “Avengers stuff, huh? So that’s what you’re calling it now?” She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “Or were you just having trouble figuring out what to wear?”
Peter raised an eyebrow, unable to hide his grin. “You know, I’ve only got two options—Spandex or awkward teenage civilian.”
Felicia let out a soft laugh, her silver-white hair glinting in the fading light. “Well, lucky for you, Spider, I like you just the way you are.” She paused, her playful tone softening for a moment. “Thanks for showing up.”
Peter blinked, a little caught off guard. There was something different about the way she said that—less teasing, more genuine. He wasn’t used to Felicia being vulnerable, even in small ways.
Before he could respond, Felicia’s demeanour shifted again. She took a few steps back, her smirk returning. “So, are we just going to stand around, or are you going to help me with my little… project?”
Peter eyed her suspiciously. “What kind of project?”
Felicia shrugged innocently. “Oh, just a simple retrieval. A certain someone has something that belongs to me, and I’d like to get it back.”
Peter crossed his arms, trying to stay firm. “You know, every time you say that, it’s never simple.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’ll be easy. In and out. No webs required.” Felicia walked toward the edge of the rooftop, glancing back at him. “Are you in, or are you too busy playing hero for the Avengers tonight?”
Peter hesitated, knowing he should probably be heading back to the Tower soon for that SHIELD briefing. But Felicia’s eyes were locked on his, and even though he knew better, he couldn’t say no. Not to her. Not when she looked at him like that.
“Alright,” Peter sighed, pulling his mask back on. “But I’m holding you to the ‘no webs’ part.”
Felicia grinned. “I knew you couldn’t resist.”
An hour later, Peter found himself sneaking through a museum—a very high-end, very well-guarded museum. As usual, Felicia had left out some key details, like the fact that the place was crawling with security. Still, he couldn’t exactly back out now, not after promising her.
Felicia slinked through the shadows with catlike grace, her movements fluid and confident. Peter followed her lead, sticking to the ceiling and making sure none of the guards noticed them. His heart pounded in his chest, but it wasn’t because of the danger. It was because of her.
They finally reached the display case Felicia had been eyeing—some rare, ancient artefact that, according to her, had been stolen by a rival thief. She glanced at Peter and winked before getting to work on the lock.
“So, what’s this thing, anyway?” Peter whispered, hanging upside down above her.
Felicia didn’t look up as she worked. “It’s a priceless relic with a lot of history. Not exactly your kind of treasure, but I’ve had my eye on it for a while.”
Peter frowned. “You’re not selling it, are you?”
Felicia stopped, her hand hovering over the lock for a moment before she gave him a sideways glance. “You think that’s all I care about? Money?”
Peter didn’t answer immediately. He didn’t think she was in it just for the money, but he never really knew what her endgame was. That was the thing with Felicia—she kept her cards close to her chest, never letting anyone in completely.
“No,” he finally said, his voice softer. “I don’t think that.”
Her smirk faltered slightly, but before Peter could analyze the change in her expression, she cracked open the display case with a soft click. Felicia grabbed the artefact—a small, intricately designed medallion—and slipped it into a pouch on her belt.
“Alright, let’s go before the guards catch on,” she whispered, her voice back to its usual playfulness.
Peter flipped off the ceiling and landed next to her. They crept back through the museum, making their escape without a hitch. As soon as they reached the safety of the rooftop, Peter let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
“See?” Felicia said, holding up the medallion triumphantly. “Easy.”
Peter crossed his arms, shaking his head in disbelief. “I don’t know why I keep letting you talk me into this stuff.”
“Because you like the thrill,” she teased, stepping closer to him. Her eyes sparkled in the moonlight, and for a moment, the tension between them thickened. “Admit it. You love being part of my little world.”
Peter swallowed hard, unsure of how to respond. She was right, in a way. He did love the thrill—being with Felicia was like walking a tightrope between danger and excitement. But it wasn’t just the adrenaline that kept him coming back. It was her.
Before he could say anything, his phone buzzed again. This time, it was Tony.
Tony: "Where are you, kid? The briefing starts in 15. And don’t even think about bailing."
Peter glanced at Felicia, who was watching him closely. He could practically feel Tony’s impatience radiating through the phone, but he knew Felicia wouldn’t be thrilled about him leaving so soon.
“I, uh, have to go,” Peter said reluctantly, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “Avengers stuff.”
Felicia raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a sly smile. “Of course. Duty calls.” She leaned in, her voice dropping to a low whisper. “But don’t think this is over, Spider. You and I still have unfinished business.”
Peter’s heart raced as she stepped back, her smirk sending a shiver down his spine. “Yeah,” he said, pulling on his mask, “I’ll, uh, see you around.”
Felicia gave him a mock salute before disappearing into the shadows, leaving Peter standing alone on the rooftop.
As he swung back toward Avengers Tower, his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. Between Felicia, the Avengers, and trying to maintain some semblance of a normal life, Peter wasn’t sure how he was going to keep it all together.
But he was Spider-Man. He could handle it. Right?