Power Play (Black Cat, Closed)

[Slim]

NYPD Commissioner Rafferty: Violence Linked to Organized Crime Reaches 30-Year High

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The breaking news chyron flashed across the massive, crystal clear TV in the living room of Manhattan’s most extravagant residence, but it went unnoticed by the penthouse’s sole occupant. As the station cut to a reporter at the site of a still-burning car, Johnny Storm was finishing the seventh lap of his daily morning swim. He tucked his chin, spun in the water and planted his feet against the pool wall, surging in the opposite direction to begin lap number eight.

Johnny was still getting used to this. He had only officially moved in with Felicia recently, packing his bags and bidding farewell to the Baxter Building. He’d always have a room there, but he’d spent more nights at this place than not in the past several months, and it just felt right to take that next relationship step. But he still kind of felt like any errant step might send a multi-million dollar vase crashing to the floor, and the last thing he wanted to do was come in here and break his girlfriend’s stuff.

The rooftop pool felt safe from that risk, and swimming laps also served as a way to keep busy while his significant other was out on the town. The Black Cat had been gone a little more frequently in recent weeks, taking care of business and earning some scratch in more legitimate ways than perhaps she’d used to. Johnny did miss her when she was away, but he wasn’t the sort of guy to try and keep her leashed when she felt she had work to do. (Not in that sense, at least.)

He finished his aquatic workout and climbed out of the water, grabbing a black towel that hung over one of the poolside chairs on his way up. Once reasonably dry, he headed inside and made his way towards the massive kitchen. Felicia would probably be home soon, and he figured it would be nice to have some breakfast waiting for her when she got back. He wasn’t the world’s best cook, but he’d tried to cure enough hangovers that he could manage a plate of eggs, bacon and fruit.

Tag: Super Chick

[Super Chick]

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It had been a pretty normal night for Felicia Hardy. She dressed herself in her Black Cat prowling costume and went to the Heroes for Hire office to see what jobs awaited. Mostly it was small stuff, but Felicia liked small jobs now and again. It made for an easy night of do-gooding that kept her detractors' accusations of thieving at bay. That plus her payment in the morning for jobs well done made the kitten vixen feel pretty damn good about her life choices of late. Speaking of life choices...

Swinging down a cable and landing on a a horizontal one, the Cat started to run and slide across them in route to her home where one very hot and hunky Johnny Storm would be waiting. Felicia was particularly proud of herself for landing that masculine bombshell despite the fact that it was never exactly her intention to do so. It was something of a miracle they were even together since she and Ben Reilly had been long time lovers, but when Ben started acting weird and pulling away then slipped into what looked to be a forever coma, Johnny was there to help pull Felicia from her sorrow with all the right kind of motivation. He was something of a Godsend, but Felicia wasn't too sure she believed in that sort of thing so she never said as much. Rather, she thanked the Fates of Good Luck that Johnny's torch burned only for her. She would follow that beacon of light home every single time.

Felicia was also glad a lot of her other problems were being solved. Apparently, the streets of Hell's Kitchen were getting cleaned up, and word on the street was that the Kingpin might be counting the days he still held power over there. Boo-hoo. Honestly, if things continued moving in the direction Felicia believed they could, that fat whale of a third-world turd might just get sent to Rickers. That was something Cat would definitely lose sleep over that. Not! A smile lit up her face as she slid over the edge of her balcony and opened the French door. The idea amused her and gave a little tickle to her tummy.

That tummy tickle turned into a rumble as the smell of breakfast wafted to her nostrils. Felicia inhaled deeply of the bacon as her eyes found the plate of eggs sitting with it and the fruit on the side. "Mmmm," she hummed as she flitted across her marble floor toward the cook. "You know just how to perk this nocturnal kitten up!" The Cat slipped off her gloves and laid them on the table beside her plate before wrapping her arms around her lover. "Are you buttering me up for some morning acrobats, or do you have some other devious plans I should be aware of?"

[Slim]

As he managed the food, plates, utensils, seasonings and burners, the morning news broadcast transitioned from the suspected car bombing story to share a look at their upcoming stories for the next hour of news coverage: A new animal shelter gaining massive support after a celebrity adopted a pet from there, a cruise liner stuck at sea after a powerful storm. Their most urgent story, however, was the supposed discovery of evidence that might possibly lead to the long-lost Manfredi Vault, a fabled stash of stolen riches belonging to a crime family long since relegated to history.

As the station shifted to a string of commercials, the sound of French doors being opened brought a reflexive smile to Johnny’s face. Still cooking, he cast a look back over his shoulder to confirm that the grin was well-placed, his eyes catching sight of the woman of his dreams (literally, in many cases). ”Morning,” he called out, as he flipped the bacon over so that it could cook a little more evenly. ”Or tire you out, as the situation demands,” he teased, leaning back slightly when she slipped her arms around him. Still very shirtless, relished the feeling of her hands coming to rest against his torso.

At her question, Johnny set down the tongs he’d used on the bacon. ”Half buttering, half doing my part for the breadwinner,” he said playfully, turning in her arms to give her a welcome-home-kiss that probably went a little beyond chaste. ”Missed you.” Johnny then leaned back slightly to let his eyes pass over her, which was always a fun pastime but also a little utilitarian in this case. The superhero gig was a dangerous one, and it wasn’t uncommon for the hero’s costume or flesh to bear memories of that life. He tried to read the story of her night from the black leather outfit she wore, though her cheery attitude at arriving home probably meant that it was a successful outing.

”Drink of choice?” he asked, ready to pour something to accompany her food. Even if it was a potential answer, he was wise enough not to directly offer her milk. She probably got that particular catcall enough in taunts from the bad guys, right before they were dropped with a kick or claw.

Tag: Super Chick