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It had been 54 days since Peter Parker had last spoken more than a sentence to somebody, as Peter Parker. He had plenty of conversations beneath the safety of his mask, but Peter Parker was becoming less and less of a real person.
He remembered the number exactly because his last true social interaction had left him so embarrassed that he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about it. He had been preparing to treat himself to a nice frozen meal from Trader Joe’s for dinner, rather than the cups of ramen he ate in the dark and free pizzas grateful civilians occasionally gave Spider-Man.
The occasion for this monumental reward had been a large cash payment for some freelance photography he did for a wedding. It had been two years since he had become a ghost to the world, and although he had forged himself a few legal documents to take a class here and there at Empire State University, he wasn’t looking to see how they held up at a bank. So it was cash only for him, which also severely limited his employment opportunities. That’s what made this a big moment for him though! He had money to splurge with and he was in the best mood he’d been in for months.
It was with this energy that he approached the cashier, and he went out of his way to take part in some casual small talk. They just exchanged some pleasantries, Peter found out that the guy was also going to ESU, albeit full time, but for journalism. As Peter reached for his wallet though, the guy, Henry if his name tag was to be believed, complimented Peter’s hair. Now Peter wasn’t blind, he knew was a good looking guy, he just didn’t exactly socialize enough that it was something that got acknowledged often. In addition to the fact that the guy was admittedly easy on the eyes, Peter found himself flustered and unsure as to how to respond.
There was one other thing that was important to know about the last two years of Peter’s life before the depth of the humiliating interaction can be elaborated. That’s the fact that since he’d started living alone, Peter had picked up the habit of grabbing every loose quarter he could find on the street. He wasn’t exactly living large enough to have an apartment with an in unit washer and dryer, hell he was lucky his building even had its own laundry room. The real problem was that he never really took these quarters out of his wallet, since he would often lose them if he left them out in his apartment. So as Peter’s mind was solely focused on how to respond to his first compliment in two years, his hands were fluttering about trying to get his wallet out. The end result was that before he even managed to do anything but stare at the guy, he had opened his wallet upside down. This meant that his only response ended up being the sound of 6 loads of laundry’s worth of quarters clattering around his feet. Peter in humiliation didn’t say another word, just scooped up his quarters and handed the guy his 10$ bill to pay for his food. The barely concealed laugh on the guy's face might’ve been fond, but this moment only proved to Peter that he maybe was no longer capable of being a human.
The final nail in Peter Parker’s coffin was the fact that he had also failed to book another photography gig since. So that left his income as just the barely livable income he received moving boxes down at the dock. They were never without need for a guy who would show up, lift heavy objects and be paid less than was legal in cash. How lucky for him.
He had to admit that it was one hell of a gig for a person whose only purpose was ensuring the continued presence of Spider-Man though. This was because the job was laughably easy for him, the only challenge of it all was having to act as if it was actually tiring him to do all that lifting. While in reality Spider-Man could lift a city bus if it meant saving a cat wandering down the sidewalk. There was also the neat fact that people really wouldn’t question a guy going missing for half an hour during the work day.
He had first discovered this when his phone buzzed with a call from Jean DeWolff in the middle of a shift.
“Spider-Man, you gotta get to the Lower East Side ASAP. Boomerang’s back out of Rikers again and he’s robbing a bank.” She shouted out at him over the din of sirens on her end.
“I’ll be there in five.” Peter responded, already out of sight of his coworkers as he’d taken off in a very calm and collected walk the second his phone had rang. He pulled on his mask and started swinging down towards Boomerang. He wasn’t exactly a competent villain in any right, but what was only good fighting practice for him could still pose a major threat to civilian life. He wasn’t going to abandon the only responsibility that mattered in this world to keep a job that he only did to sustain Spider-Man.
After a quick and easy bout that ended with Boomerang disarmed, webbed, and seething in the back of DeWolff’s cruiser, Spider-Man decided to take a well earned break to sit down on the curb. At that exact moment though, a guy wearing the tightest pair of skinny jeans Peter had ever seen decided to exhale his cigarette smoke down and to his right, enveloping Peter’s head.
“Dude come on, look where you’re smoking next time.” Peter said as he turned towards the guy who had just done worse things to his mood than Boomerang, an actual villain, had.
“Oh my god Spider dude I am SO sorry, I love what you do for this city I just totally didn’t see you there.” The man seemed to take a moment to steel his nerves before saying the next part “but I mean come on, this has gotta be the first time a hero’s ever sat down on a dirty ass curb to catch his breath.” Peter felt his hackles raise.
“Well god forbid a guy who works his ass off rests!” Peter heard it come out of his mouth before he could think, he quickly stood up and turned towards him. The anger drained as quickly as it came though, he raised his hands in apology. “Nevermind dude, just been a long day.” Peter quickly webbed away, he hadn’t even realized the burden of his responsibility had been weighing on him that hard. He knew he was gonna get fired, and he really didn’t know how he was gonna make rent if that happened. God his life sucked.
He walked back into the warehouse once again as Peter Parker. He immediately saw his boss and he braced himself for the news that could send him to living on the street. This is why he was incredibly shocked when all he got was a gruff “tighten up those smoke breaks, Parker” and his boss ignoring his existence the rest of his day. Peter felt his shoulders drop and silently sent out a thank you to the hipster of the Lower East Side, who would never know he had saved Spider-Man from a very scary first of the month.
From then on, Peter would never be seen without a pack of cigarettes on his person. That wasn’t to say he enjoyed smoking them though, he absolutely didn’t and every time he tried to inhale from one he still coughed up a storm. He had to keep up appearances though, so every time he came back from urgent Spider-Manning, he would post up on the outside of the warehouse and continue the war between his lungs and Marlboro’s strongest soldiers. His lungs were on their backfoot, as he was fighting to even get halfway through the cigarette. He had to smoke enough of it so it wasn’t obvious when he ashed it that he was just lighting it and dropping it right away. Luckily his spot was already pre-supplied with some extra cigarette butts that had been fully smoked, which really helped him keep his cover. He even went out sometimes for a smoke with no Spider-Man business to take care of, it was actually more painful for him than working, which Peter found quite ironic considering that was the opposite of how a smoke break should be. It helped make sure it seemed like he was really trying to keep his smoke breaks shorter though. This was especially important when an occasional villain breakout would keep him tied up for far longer than any reasonable smoke break would take. He figured his boss thought he was out doing horrible things when that happened, but he never asked any questions. Peter would try to stay later than he was meant to on those days, it was a beautiful unspoken bond that the two had formed. It was also the only thing that allowed Peter Parker’s continued survival in the shadow of Spider-Man.
Today on his smoke break, Peter had caught wind of plans the Kingpin of crime in New York had for the night. Which was what brought him to where he was now, staking out some of his grunts from the top of a building. He was in his Spider-Man suit, but he had a bag of his civilian clothes right next to him. He wanted to make sure that if he got spotted he would be able to make a clean escape into the invisibility that came with being his so-called true self. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting tonight, as he stared through his binoculars. They were a piece of bootleg Spider-Man merch some kid had given him after he’d gotten his cat down from a stranger’s fire escape. He tried to refuse them, but eventually gave in and honestly, he had to admit it didn’t hurt to extend his spider branding further. Maybe he could get a Spider-Man backpack to store all his Spider gadgets and his clothes in for stakeouts.
That was the last thought Peter had before his Spider-Sense flared and he rolled out of the way moments before a woman dressed in a fur lined skin tight suit landed exactly where he’d been moments ago. As she looked at him the hairs on his neck stopped prickling, which he really hoped meant she wasn’t a danger to him.
“Nice reflexes.” She drawled out as he slowly raised himself into a defensive stance. The woman didn’t make any advances towards him though, although she was rather pointedly looking at the binoculars he was gripping in his right hand. “Cute binoculars too, you look like a real boy scout out here.” She laughed to herself as she strutted over to his backpack. A slight flush of embarrassment ran up the back of his neck as he crossed the Spider-Pack off of his idea list. It also didn’t help with his composure that the woman was in a very tight and slightly revealing black leather suit. He was keeping his gaze upwards but her face was also incredibly distracting. Platinum blonde hair was framing it, a black domino mask in place around her eyes. Peter was trying his hardest to think of a clever response, but his wit seemed to have fled with his dignity.
“Who are you?” Was all he managed to squeak out, in an embarrassingly pitchy voice. The red ran all the way up to his cheeks now, his mask the only thing saving him from looking like a complete loser. She paused her perusal of his items, and walked over to him with a small pout on her beautiful lips. Peter kicked himself as he caught himself imagining how they felt, he was in a possibly hostile situation and he could not be distracted! Not to mention the stakeout he was supposed to be carrying out.
“You’ve never heard of me? I’ve been trying to get your attention for a while now, Spider.” She punctuated her sentence by dragging a nail down the emblem on the center of his chest. Peter would be lying if he said the touch and tone of her voice didn’t send a shiver down his spine. He was pretty sure the last time he’d felt a non violent touch was from MJ at the Statue of Liberty. The memory sobered him, and he felt his focus sharpen.
“And why is it that you want my attention?” Peter asked as he stepped back to try and get some space from her. The feeling of her breath brushing against his mask was bordering on intoxicating, and he had to keep his head on straight.
“Can’t a girl be curious about New York's favorite hero? You’re mysterious, and clearly quite buff.” She purred while shamelessly looking him up and down in his spandex. He just now was considering that his suit was actually quite revealing, which led him to think about her even-more-revealing-suit as his eyes drifted downward. He quickly snapped them back up as she pulled something from his bag. “Spider-Man smokes! God I knew you were hot, imagine if the news knew about this though. They’d go crazy, every headline for a week would be debating your purity and if kids should be looking up to you. Maybe I’ll leak it.” She took a cigarette from the pack, “mind if I have this?” Peter made the decision to not respond to this line of conversation at all, lest he accidentally admit to the fact he could barely get through half a cigarette without hacking out his lungs.
“You still haven’t answered any of my questions.” Peter said instead, the woman put away the cigarettes and set the bag down. She slowly sauntered up to him
“I’m the Black Cat” She stepped as close to him as she could, their chests nearly touching, and Peter found he couldn’t bring himself to step away. “but if you want to be more,” She paused, bringing her hand up and letting her claws softly scratch down his jaw, “familiar, just Cat will do.” The intimacy of the act nearly brought Peter to his knees, but if there was one thing he’d learned from his self imposed isolation, it was resolve. So with great strength, he brought his hand up and removed hers from his face.
“So Cat.” God Peter was out of control, but he couldn’t help the flirtatious manner in which he said her name. He had resolve, but he wasn’t a saint, and he hadn’t felt wanted quite like this in years. He spent so little time as Peter Parker, and Spider-Man didn’t allow anyone to get close enough to flirt. Maybe once he figured out her motive he could even go a little further. Peter Parker’s ban on human connection didn’t have to extend to Spider-Man, did it? With that in mind, he reiterated his other question. “Why have you been trying to catch my attention?”
“Because me and you have a shared interest, and that’s the downfall of the Kingpin. You see I’m no slouch in hand to hand combat, but I could use the help of a guy like you.” She slithered her hand out of his, admittedly loose, grip to squeeze his bicep. Her smirk only grew. “So whaddya say Spider, are you down to the brawn to my brain?” She left her hand resting on his arm, this time Peter couldn’t bring himself to remove it.
“You know I resent the implication that I don’t have the brain, I found out about this deal all on my own.” Peter argued his case and gestured down at the guys who he was supposed to be observing. Although he was much happier looking at Cat than a bunch of Kingpins grunts.
“Please, there have been at least 3 other deals of this caliber in the past month that I’ve been trying to get you to help me with. Yet you were mysteriously nowhere to be found, so maybe you should accept that I know a bit more about the Kingpin than you do.” She made a good point, and he wasn’t in a position to turn down a bit of help. He decided it was best if he didn’t argue with her anymore.
“So, are you good at fighting in a team?” He asked, breaking from her hand to look back down through his binoculars. He saw more cars pulling up, meaning it was time to make their move. He walked towards the ledge and prepared himself to jump.
“Just follow my lead.” Cat said, turning to him with a quick smirk before jumping off the roof with a grappling hook that seemed to appear from nowhere. Peter smiled beneath the mask, a surge of adrenaline flushing through his body with the anticipation of a fight. He shot out a web and made his way to the ground.
Between the two of them and the element of surprise, they made quick work of the grunts. The Kingpin hadn’t shown face, but that was expected with how elusive he was. They had still managed to get 15 guys webbed up, and had secured a duffel bag full of money and a car with a trunk full of drugs.
“Great work Cat! That was way easier with you than it would’ve been on my own.” Peter bounced on his feet, feeling alive in a way he hadn’t in a while. Fighting crime was about the only thing keeping him tethered to earth, so that combined with human connection was about as good as his day could get.
“We make an excellent team Spider, I wonder how else that chemistry could translate.” She said as she made her way over to him with the duffel of cash in her hand.
“I’ll just make a quick call to my contact with the police and they’ll handle the rest of this mess for us.” Peter rambled on before Cat put a finger over his mask where his mouth would be, quickly silencing him. The closeness between them snuck up on him, and he felt his nervousness from before slamming back into his stomach with the threat gone.
“Or, we could take a moment to enjoy our victory,” She leaned in to whisper the next words in his ear, “just between us.” Peter stayed silent, but slowly nodded his head to show he was still with her. Her hand went to the seam of his mask where it connected to the rest of his suit, instinctually his hand met hers. “Oh don’t worry Spider, I won’t need to see your eyes for this.” Relieved, he let her slowly roll his mask just above his nose.
Peter knew what was coming, but he couldn’t stop the jumble of nerves in his stomach as he stared into her eyes. Knowing that she was just staring at the blank mask of Spider-Man. That was what he wanted though, Peter Parker no longer existed, he was the vessel through which New York's favorite hero existed. So he closed his eyes as he saw hers flutter, and felt her lips press into his with fervor.
Peter melted into the embrace, kissing her back just as strongly. Heat surged through his veins as one of his hands roamed down her back and the other tangled itself into her incredibly soft platinum hair. He let out an embarrassing moan as he felt her tongue press into his mouth, but all he was met with was an increased passion and what he could swear was the rumble of a purr in her chest. On the outskirts of his consciousness Peter thought he heard one of the grunts groaning about how unfair this was, but Peter really couldn’t give a damn.
Slowly escaping the kiss, Cat rested her forehead against his, releasing a puff of breath into his mouth. He didn’t chase her mouth, but he was panting into their shared airspace. “You know Spider, I hope you don’t take this too personally, I really do like you.” She spoke softly between them. Before Peter could process the statement though, he felt his legs being taken out from beneath him and the concrete rushing up to meet his side. The next thing he knew he was staring up at the Black Cat’s retreating form on a rooftop carrying the bag of money. Completely out of his wits, Peter couldn’t get up in time to give chase.
“Cat!” He desperately shouted after her, although he knew it was of no use. He couldn’t deny that he felt a little used, but still, he let out a small chuckle. He had to admit she was good, next time he saw her he was going to have to make sure she couldn’t catch him off guard like that.
“Damn, how am I gonna explain this to DeWolff.” He muttered to himself looking around at the webbed up grunts, the drugs and the conspicuously missing cash. He couldn’t get rid of the small smile on his face though, pressing his fingers against his lips before pulling his mask back down.