Archive of Our Own

S.H.I.E.L.D. Training Facility — Early Morning

The steel door bore a sign reading Knock Before Entering. Nick Fury rapped once, and the door hissed open. A flustered staffer slipped past, tugging her uniform into place.

Inside, America Chavez remained sprawled across her bunk, hair a chaotic mess. She groaned as she sat up.

"You, conqueror of universes," Fury said dryly, "go wash your face. I have work for you."

He slid a tablet onto the desk. While America trudged toward the sink, splashing cold water across her face, Fury's gravelly voice continued.

"We have intel on a theft. Rare item. Unknown energy source. The thief employed Wakandan tech to cover her tracks."

America raised an eyebrow, towel still pressed to her cheek. "So... not your average pickpocket."

"Not even close." Fury's single good eye locked on her. "This one's a cat with nine lives."

America blinked, then scoffed. "You are joking."

Yet her sarcasm faltered. The word cat tugged a name into her mind: Felicia Hardy. Black Cat. Notorious for slipping through vaults, safes, and hearts without a scratch.

Fury seemed to read her expression. "Be careful. This woman does not merely steal tech. She is fast, sharp, and twice as dangerous when cornered."

America rolled her eyes, masking a flicker of intrigue. "Wonderful. Interdimensional vandalism by Catwoman's sassier cousin. Precisely what I needed."

Fury did not smile. "Do not underestimate her. Most people do. That is why they lose."

Later — New York Skyline

Hours later, America soared between skyscrapers, city lights painting streaks beneath her boots. She traced faint, multicolored energy signatures left by the stolen artifact.

Her heart pounded with more than duty. Beneath the adrenaline, curiosity twisted strangely. Felicia Hardy. Black Cat. If it was truly her, this would not be merely another mission.

It would be a chase.

And America suspected she might enjoy it more than she should.

Perched on a rooftop, a half-eaten slice of pizza balanced on her knee, America checked her detector for the hundredth time. The city hummed below, neon lights flickering like restless stars.

Her phone buzzed, Kate Bishop's name glowing on the screen.

"Just imagine," America muttered, answering. "Fury sends me to chase down Black Cat. Black Cat, Kate. I am a glorified dog catcher now."

Kate's laugh rang through the speaker. "Ha! Is she not Spider-Man's girlfriend?"

America rolled her eyes. "Ex. At least, that is what Fury's file indicates."

"Oops. My mistake." Kate chuckled.

The device in America's lap shrieked, beeping sharp and fast. She straightened.

"Is that the signal?" Kate asked.

"Affirmative. Must go. Thanks for the company."

Kate's voice softened, playful. "Anytime. And hey—do not let her claws catch you."

America snorted. "Please. I am not that easy."

"Mm-hm. See you later. I miss you."

"...Miss you too." America hung up and launched into the night.

Minutes Later — Rooftop Across Midtown

The trail ended at a rooftop bathed in pale moonlight. And there she stood—Felicia Hardy, cradling a gleaming device in her hands. Her white hair shimmered like silver threads in the darkness, her black suit hugging every movement with feline grace.

America landed with a thud. "So it is true. Cats do prefer to sneak about and pretend they own the place."

Felicia turned, lips curling into a smile. "Well, look at this. A Captain America knockoff with attitude."

"I am not a knockoff," America snapped. "No shield, no stripes. Merely a universe-saving, portal-punching powerhouse."

Felicia tilted her head, amused. "Cute. Yet with that costume, you appear to be auditioning for sidekick." She toyed with the device, spinning it between her fingers as though it weighed nothing.

"Hand it over, Felicia," America demanded, stepping closer.

Felicia's smile sharpened. "Mmm... no. I have grand plans for this beauty."

"You stole Wakandan tech mixed with energy that could collapse reality. You cannot keep it."

"Reality perpetually teeters, darling," Felicia purred. "That is precisely why it is so delightful to play with."

America narrowed her eyes. "I am not joking."

"I know." Felicia leaned closer, voice dropping to a whisper that carried in the night air. "That is what renders you so adorable."

America lunged forward, fists glowing with energy. Felicia sidestepped effortlessly, her movements smooth as silk.

"Mm, tables turned, sweetheart," Felicia laughed, voice purring. "Usually, I am the one pursuing."

"It matters not," America snapped, wheeling around. "You remain my prey."

She swung again, but Felicia ducked, pivoted, and let the punch carve through empty air.

"Careful," Felicia teased, circling her. "Did you not read my file? Missing every swing makes you appear... inexperienced." Her smile widened, playful and cruel simultaneously.

"Silence!" America growled. With a burst of power, she leapt high, aiming to slam Felicia into the roof tiles.

Felicia slipped away at the last instant, landing with feline grace. "Tch, adorable. All that fire, none of the precision."

"Cease these games!" America shouted.

Felicia's eyes glittered. She twirled the stolen device like a toy, then leaned close enough that America caught the low, velvet edge of her voice.

"Games? Oh, darling, this is not merely for me. I stole this on... commission. Someone beyond Fury's pay grade desires it. Yet perhaps..." she tilted her head, "...I would rather surrender it to you. If you can capture me."

America hesitated, thrown off for the first time. "What do you mean?"

Felicia smirked, taking a slow step back toward the rooftop's edge. "Here is my offer—if you manage to pin me down, you may take me anywhere you wish. Your headquarters, your little S.H.I.E.L.D. cell..." Her gaze lingered on America a moment too long. "...or perhaps somewhere more private."

The words hung in the night air, half-threat, half-invitation. America's fists clenched, her heartbeat skipping for reasons unrelated to the mission.

America stood panting on the rooftop, fists still glowing faintly with residual energy. The stolen device was gone—slipped directly beyond her reach. Her chest tightened with the sting of failure.

From the shadows came Felicia's laugh—low, velvety, with sufficient cruelty to make it sting. "Tsk, tsk. You swing wide, you miss, you sulk. I expected more from Fury's little prodigy."

America gritted her teeth. "This is not a game! I will catch you, Felicia."

Felicia stepped into the moonlight, her white hair gleaming, her smile a slash of mischief. "Oh, honey... It is all a game. You simply have not learned the rules." She tapped the stolen device against her palm, then tilted her head, eyes glinting. "Ask Fury. He knows precisely whose board we occupy."

America's stomach twisted at the implication. "What do you mean?!"

But Felicia was already backing toward the ledge, graceful as ever. She raised her grappling hook, winked, and purred, "Catch me if you can. And when you do..." Her lips curved into something dangerously close to a dare. "...you had best decide whether you are turning me in, or keeping me for yourself."

The hook snapped onto a distant antenna, and in an instant she was gone—swinging into the night, leaving America breathless, furious... and more curious than she wished to admit.

America clenched her fists, teeth grinding in frustration. Felicia had escaped again, yet it was not merely the lost device that rattled her. It was the thief herself—her confidence, her dangerous charm, the way her presence lingered even after vanishing.

Why am I thinking of her thus? America shook her head sharply, as if the thought itself were treason. I am a hero. She is a thief. That is the entirety of it. Nothing more.

And yet... something about Felicia pulled at her. A dangerous thrill. Like standing at a rooftop's edge with wind daring one to jump.

Her comm buzzed. Fury's voice cut in, sharp and unimpressed.

"America. Do you possess the stolen tech?"

She swallowed, jaw tight. "Negative, Director. Black Cat escaped with it."

A long sigh crackled through the line. "Figures. Teenagers." His tone carried more irritation than surprise. "Return to headquarters. Remain there until I determine how to proceed."

The line went dead.

America bristled. "Teenager. I am twenty. That is adult enough, Fury." She kicked a loose stone across the rooftop, watching it skitter into darkness. Her own words echoed: adult enough.

Somehow, the memory of Felicia's smirk accompanied them.

"Next time," she muttered, opening a star-shaped portal. "I shall catch her. Justice, Chavez. Justice. Nothing else."

Yet even as she stepped through, she was not entirely certain whether she was convincing Fury... or herself.