62: Chapter 62 Father

Felicia and Peter took a taxi home. The moment the door opened, Aunt May practically lunged out: "Peter!"

"Hey, Aunt May." He walked in with a smile.

"We were worried sick about you! When we heard about the incident in New York, we thought you'd somehow gotten caught up in it!"

He gave a dry laugh: "Don't worry, Aunt May, I'm fine. What could possibly happen to me?"

"If something really happened, they'd have to get past me first." Felicia chimed in.

Uncle Ben was waiting in the kitchen and smiled: "See, Mei? I told you he'd be fine."

"Oh, hush." Aunt May tapped his arm lightly. "Don't believe him, Peter; he was even more panicked than I was. He was convinced you'd run out to save people!"

Peter scratched his head: "I'm not that brave." Felicia was struggling to hold back her laughter nearby.

Felicia's phone rang. She glanced at it and sighed: "I need to take this call."

She walked away, leaving the three of them in the room. "I'm sorry I made you worry, Aunt May. Really. I couldn't get through on the phone; the cell towers were probably blown up by the aliens."

"It's alright, Peter, as long as you're safe." Uncle Ben pulled him into a hug. Peter gasped in pain; his wounds were still there.

"What's wrong?"

"N-nothing, just a bit tired." He forced a smile.

"Don't overwork yourself." Aunt May looked behind him, her eyes brightening. "Right on time, girls!"

Peter turned around. Mary Jane, Liz Allan, and Felicia were standing there, smiling. "What are you doing here?"

"What? Did you think we'd forget your birthday?" Mary Jane asked.

"Yeah, he even forgot it himself." Felicia rolled her eyes.

"I believe that." Mary Jane nodded.

Liz Allan walked up and suddenly hugged him. Peter stiffened, hearing her whisper: "Thank you, Peter... If it weren't for your warning, I probably wouldn't be standing here."

He slowly hugged her back: "I'm just glad you're safe, Liz Allan."

"Happy birthday to you—" Aunt May walked out carrying a huge chocolate cake with candles. After everyone finished singing, Peter blew out the candles with a red face and cut the first slices for Aunt May and Uncle Ben. Everyone sat in the dining room, eating chicken pie made by Aunt May along with the cake, chatting as they ate.

Uncle Ben was telling a story about when Peter was a kid and couldn't climb down a tree: "We brought over a ladder, but he was crying, saying he'd fall, and refused to come down no matter what—"

"I can't imagine Peter like that at all." Felicia laughed.

"Yeah, he's pretty skilled at climbing up and down now." Mary Jane gave a wink. She really wasn't trying to hide anything.

"I remember that day." Aunt May brought in more dishes, her smile gentle. "Peter insisted that only a firefighter could ensure he wouldn't fall. Richard went across the street and borrowed a uniform from our neighbor who was a firefighter. It was the cutest thing I'd ever seen—as soon as Peter saw him, he jumped straight into his arms!"

The girls laughed. "Wait, who is Richard?" Liz Allan asked, confused.

Uncle Ben and Aunt May's expressions darkened. Felicia glared at Liz Allan, and Mary Jane looked somber too. Peter, however, just smiled: "Richard was my dad. He passed away when I was very young."

"Oh." Liz Allan blushed. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. He was the kind of man who experimented on his own son." Peter sneered inwardly, but said aloud: "It's fine, Liz Allan. I don't really remember him much, actually. In my heart," he held Uncle Ben's hand, "my dad is right here."

"Oh, Peter." Aunt May hugged him, moved. "You are such a good boy."

Uncle Ben smiled: "Thank you, Peter... but that's not fair to your dad either."

Peter shrugged: "He probably wouldn't mind. You're the one who raised me, Uncle Ben."

Uncle Ben nodded: "I know. I mean, it's not fair that he couldn't give you a gift himself. So—" He stood up and gestured for them to follow. Aunt May's smile indicated she had known about this all along.

The garage door opened. Peter recognized the car inside immediately—a DeLorean DMC-12, the one from "Back to the Future." The interior had been modified to have four seats, sacrificing quite a bit of legroom in the front.

"Wow." Mary Jane gasped. "Tiger, you have a time machine!"

Peter nodded blankly, a memory surfacing from deep within: him playing in an identical car... not similar, but the exact same one.

He turned to Uncle Ben: "This is my dad's car."

Uncle Ben nodded: "That's right. I didn't expect you to remember."

The car body was covered in dents and dings. He remembered it breaking down every other day; it was practically a daily occurrence. Sure enough, a tool kit was visible under the front seat.

"It still needs repairs, I know. It'll probably never be like new," Uncle Ben tossed him the keys, "but it was your father's. He would have wanted you to have it."

The keychain was a dog tag engraved with "Parker, Richard." "Where have you been keeping it?"

"Your dad had a storage unit downtown. The property was his, so no rent needed." Uncle Ben shrugged. "I found it there. I figured since you're at the age where you can drive, it was time to give it to you."

"Peter, you have to drive us in this!" Liz Allan exclaimed. "My dad would go crazy if he saw this! 'Back to the Future' is his favorite! And, you have to let me drive!"

"And me." Mary Jane raised her hand.

"You don't even have a driver's license!" Liz Allan countered.

"Doesn't Peter?" Mary Jane pointed at him.

"Peter could pass the test whenever he wants." Felicia winked.

Peter smiled: "I will." He turned to Uncle Ben, "Thank you, Uncle Ben. This is amazing."

Uncle Ben nodded: "You're welcome. I don't need to lecture you on safe driving again, do I?"

"No, Uncle Ben."

"Good. Now, there's cake, and Peter's dark history."

"Do you have any stories about him wetting the bed?" Liz Allan got excited.

"Yes, do you want to hear about the time he was three or the time he was ten?"

"Uncle Ben!" Peter wailed.

The party didn't drag on too long; the girls knew he had just saved the World and was exhausted to the bone. Peter went upstairs to lie down, but couldn't sleep, so he took out his phone to check the cleanup progress.

Overall, it was okay: most people were safe, the death toll wasn't high, though there were many injuries. The military, Police, and Department of Homeland Security were taking over, and S.H.I.E.L.D. was confiscating the alien technology for storage. He actually wanted to keep some of the tech, but he really couldn't manage it at the time.

A large number of photos and videos were flooding the internet, mostly of the Avengers fighting on the front lines, as well as footage of Tony Stark delivering the nuke into the portal. The most popular image right now was the kiss between him and Felicia—the angle was perfect, her leaping into his arms, her black hair flying, his arm wrapped around her waist.

Behind them were collapsed buildings and a broken New York, but that moment of intimacy made everything else seem secondary.

The hashtags #SpiderLove and #StrongestCouple were going viral. He smiled. Her true appearance was completely obscured by her hair color, eye color, and full gear; no one would link Felicia Hardy to Black Cat anytime soon.

With his curiosity satisfied, he tossed the phone aside and sank into his pillow almost instantly. He needed sleep too badly.

In the deep of night, someone shook him awake. Felicia was standing by the bed, wearing her Black Cat suit. She took off her goggles and hairband, her black hair fading back to silver.

"Liz Allan and Mary Jane think you cheated on them." She laughed.

"Because Spider-Man was photographed kissing a cat-woman?" He asked with a smile.

"Exactly. I had to dress like this to prove that Black Cat is me."

"Regret kissing me?"

"Not for a second, Tiger." She unzipped her suit, tossed it aside, lifted the covers, crawled in, and kissed him fiercely.

"I love you, Felicia." He whispered, tearing off his own clothes.

"I love you, Peter." She bit his neck, her breathy voice landing on his skin. "Happy birthday."

The next day.

Natasha Romanoff called, asking to meet him at Central Park at noon, in plain clothes. Felicia insisted on going along—she clearly hadn't processed the fact that he had risked his life to save the World yet.

It made sense. She specialized in stealing from those who deserved to be stolen from because she felt it was right; he didn't want her to do that because he was afraid she'd get hurt. Her current mood was probably the same kind of worry he had always felt.

Thor walked up with Loki, who was in chains, and nodded at them. The Tesseract was placed into a sealed container, and Thor used it to teleport back to Asgard.

Tony Stark walked over and took off his sunglasses: "So Peter, do you have a job?"

Peter smiled: "I'm working at the Baxter Building with Reed Richards and Susan Storm, Tony."

"Damn, one step too late." Tony Stark also smiled. "Anyway, you impressed me, kid. If you need anything, just ask."

"Right back at you." Peter reached out, and the two shook hands.

"Oh, right, I've decided not to sue you for copying my tech!" Tony Stark got into his car and drove off with Bruce Banner.

Captain America said his goodbyes and rode off on his motorcycle. Natasha Romanoff approached and raised an eyebrow at Felicia: "Felicia Hardy. Should have guessed."

Peter was stunned: "You didn't know?"

"S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't have the time to figure out the identity of every thief in the city."

Peter wanted to slap himself—he had exposed her. If Natasha Romanoff knew, Fury would know, and then HYDRA... damn it.

"Can we keep it just between us?" He was practically pleading.

Natasha Romanoff's lips curled up: "Fine. But you owe me one. Starting Monday, I'm back as your handler. Fury has approved me to give you full-scale special training—since you've already proven you can handle it."

Peter raised an eyebrow: "Bring it on."

He and Felicia wandered around Queens all day, trying to avoid hearing people talk about the attack, but it was the biggest thing happening right now, so it was unavoidable. In the evening, he said goodbye to her and watched her go home, then swung back to Manhattan, intent on getting some alien technology.

Debris was everywhere. The government had just started cleaning up the South and East districts, but the North district was still piled high with waste. He took everything he could get his hands on: Chitauri energy guns, spears capable of automatically firing energy beams, and various pieces of armor.

He swung back to the Baxter Building, used his exclusive code to enter the lab, and unloaded the goods. Then he made a few more trips, even prying off a few deck plates from the corpse of a Leviathan; that kind of material, which could withstand a direct hit from Tony Stark's Repulsor Cannon, was definitely worth studying.

When he approached the ruins for the fifth time, he discovered there were others scavenging for things. He knew he was technically stealing too, but in Peter's view, these Chitauri were things he had personally taken down, so taking some spoils of war was reasonable; these people, however, were just pure thieves.

"Hey, everyone!" He landed on a lamppost.

The group turned around in unison.

The next instant, his Spider-Sense screamed in his mind.

He didn't even have time to think; his body instinctively launched itself off the lamppost.

Almost at the same time, dozens of bullets swept across the spot where he had just been standing, sending sparks flying from the metal lamppost.