8600/=Rooftops and rendezvous

=Rooftops and rendezvous
Date of Scene:	31 July 2019
Location:	New York City rooftop
Synopsis:	Felicia and Spidey chat on a rooftop in the rain. It is not romantic... fin.
Cast of Characters:	Spider-Man, Black Cat

---

Spider-Man has posed:
Spider-Man!

The Amazing one, not the other twenty two thousand that have suddenly sprung up like Russian remakes of Guardians of the Galaxy.

Spidey is dancing across the rooftops without webbing for a change, the light rain that's falling actually cooling down an otherwise warm summer night in New York. Balanced steps take him from one steam vent to another in a twirling dancers hop, then down upon the rooftop proper with a clicking heel side skip, that dashes his foot into a puddle and sends a spray of it over the edge in the direction of limited foot traffic at this hour in the morning.

"Sorry!" Shouting over at some poor sod who's now all wet.. "Nice umbrella!" It wasn't, but he's trying to be more personably so people don't lump him in with all the trademark thieves running around.

Black Cat has posed:
The glowstick stolen from the Winter Soldier -- gasp, brave of her -- was slipped away into one of her many small caches throughout the city. Now, it falls upon her to make her way back towards her home. Rain falling, cool as it might be and counter to overheating in her cat-suit, is still rain. It leaves her hair slicked back to hang down her shoulders as Felicia parkours her way across the rooftops as well.

A flash of red and blue in her side vision has her janking to a stop hard enough to merit crouching out into something almost akin to stealing third base. Curling fingers through her hair to bring it behind her ear, the thief then laughs to herself. She's easy enough to spot on her easy saunter towards Peter now across the open space. Rain glistens on the fabric of her suit and sleeks down it.

"I don't think most people appreciate being wet like //that//, Spidey." Her voice floats over to him, insinuating a grin even before it can be seen on her red-red lips.

Spider-Man has posed:
She's right. The man is not pleased.

He waves a fist up at Spidey like some insinuation of promised vengence and no doubt that'll be the front page of the Bugle tomorrow morning. Pete settles back agains tthe warm steam vent with his arms crossed, "I can see now... Spider-Menace, responsible for the rain.. wetting passers by on their nightly commute..." He glances back over the edge, "I SAID NICE UMBRELLA... Jeez..."

Then up, inspecting the familiar voice calling unto him from yander. Spider-senses do not tingle, mask eyes do narrow, "Oh look who it is... The ever so popular Black Cat.. You know you almost got me in trouble." Upside down handed pointing at her across the little gap in their buildings. "I mean not directly, but indirectly, because like a dumbass I protected your identity from Captain America..."

He huffs, putting on a dramatic show of turning away with his arms crossed like an imputent child. "I'm not talking to you until you apologize for what I did."

Black Cat has posed:
It's not but a simple balletic leap to clear the alleyway between the buildings. Felicia does this and lands silently but for the plip of her boot in a rooftop puddle. From his vantage point, Peter gets to continue observing the feline saunter of her hips as she travels closer yet.

A white-gloved finger rises to waggle at him. Tsk-tsk, tick-tock. "I accept your apology for nearly blowing my cover, considering it goes both ways," she sing-songs, still giving Spidey a glinting jade-green look of reproof. "You never struck me as a gossip-hound. Why was Captain America interested in little old me?" Stopping half an arm's length from Peter seems appropriate now.

Spider-Man has posed:
Spidey glances her way with a little turn of his head as she saunters closer, then snaps it back away with a HUMPH at her suggestion he might apologize to HER. "Because you told some tickle happy knuckle job with a metal arm that we knew each other.. seriously though?" He drops the act and lowers (rises) himself into a crouch in the inch thin piece of metal he's kind of hanging upside down from. "Why are you name dropping me? And what's up with the bond villain? Did someone not hug him? Does he need a hug?"

His eyes move a little wider, then constrict, "I'm not a gossip-hound and if I'm being completely honest, I don't like being put in a position where I have to pretend to be... How am I suppose to keep up my fledgling buddy-cop act with Cap'n if he's cross at me for not talking you up to his ill tempered war pal?" His arms sit on his thighs as if he's in the proper position to be doing so. Gravity just doesn't bother him much anymore.

Good genetics or something.

"How do you even know about mister crab-apple mc-nasties history anyhow?"

Black Cat has posed:
Felicia's chin lifts slightly as she follows his adjustment of posture, still wearing her small, infuriating smile.

"I didn't make you do anything, Spidey. You could've told him -- but you didn't. We all know you're the purest of heart." Her palm spreads insinuatingly over her own chest, touching mostly skin with the fit of the suit's deep collar. Eyelashes flutter at the young man. "And how do I know that old fuddy-duddy? You know how people like to tell me things." She's prideful in her Jessica Rabbit-like stance now, palms resting on her hips. "I mean, look at you right now. I had no idea good ol' Stars and Stripes had any interest in me. I appreciate the warning. You're the best," she simpers with a pleased grin.

Spider-Man has posed:
"Dammit." Spidey gripes at himself, "Do not speak openly to cats... they are bad for your friendship, your sanity, and your allergies." A hand lays on the metal extension he's crouched upon and he dangles down to stand infront of her for a second, "Felicia, you're not answering my question and I know you know that you're not and It's kind of like I'm not sure why I'm even protecting you." He holds his hands out, "Which I already know... you're terrible." He doesn't really mean that.

Maybe.

"Why can't I just have friends who.. ya know.. like do taxes or.. work in an office? Why must they be thieves who dress up in cat suits and dance around on roo- oh right." Glancing down at himself. Both hand slap upon his mask and draw downward, "Can you do me a solid? Just one... I don't ask for anything.." Glancing over at her, "What's your deal with Billy Bob Buckivich? How in the weeds are you? Do need help?"

Black Cat has posed:
Folding her arms, Felicia tilts her to one side. Her smile doesn't fade; if anything, it softens into a rueful fondness. A wet lock of hair is separated from its gathering hanging over her shoulder and she twines it around her finger continuously as she looks into the blank eyes of Spidey's mask. A handful of seconds pass as her kohl-lined regard shifts between each white socket.

"Alriiiiiiight, fine." Big sigh. "Firstly, no: I don't need any help with the tin-man. We might as well be friends now."

Maybe. Sort of. Possibly? It's questionable.

"Secondly...I slipped, okay? I figured...look, I recognized him from photographs. He's Captain America's friend." Felicia's jade-green gaze slides to one side. "I assumed he knew you because you know Captain America. Y'know, like a game of telephone. I was wrong, sooooo...that's why he asked you, I bet."

Her lower lip slides out to form a winsome pouted shelf. "Forgive me? I didn't mean it...?"

Spider-Man has posed:
The thing people always forget, or just don't realize, is that Spider-Man... well Peter Parker anyways... Is REALLY smart. His eyes narrow at the Black Cat as she goes into her story, then one widens and the other remains squint.. then both go wide as if he's trying to read her pouty promises of apology through his mask.

"Huh.. and how did you know I knew Cap'n? I mean, I guess you could assume, but you don't assume anything.. You're too smart for assumptions." He settles back against the low wall with one foot kicked out and the other crossed beneath it at the ankles, "And you don't slip. At least not on accident. Maybe other PEOPLE slip around you, but you're not the slipper of slips..."

He blows out a sigh through his nostrils and looks up at the rain falling down against his mask, "If you say you're fine, you're fine. I wont press you.." His arms unfold into his shrug.

"I wasn't mad at you anyways. Just.. I don't get you. I guess I never did... I thought I did.. but clearly I was wrong." He hops back a little to sit on the wall upon which he was just leaning. "Stop pouting, God.. I can't handle it.. you're melting my heart and I want to give you all my change.." Pat pat apt, "No pockets. Just be careful..."

Black Cat has posed:
"I mean, I'll take anything you want to give me. I can use it to buy my coffee tomorrow." Pouting is replaced with the mysterious little smile she tends to wear as default around the young man in his spiderific suit. "It's okay if you can't figure me out -- and hey, maybe I did slip."

Her shoulders roll in a sinuous shrug at him. "I have to pretend I'm not perfect in order to blend in with the populous, right? Otherwise, the world might implode or something." Another insouciant wink is aimed at Peter. "I'm being careful, promise -- cross my black little heart." A nail criss-crosses her chest once more.

Spider-Man has posed:
"How about some advise then? It wont get you coffee tomorrow, but it might let you have coffee the day after..." Spidey pushes off the wall in her direction to lightly push at her shoulder with the tips of his fingers, "You're better than this." He says simply and means it because despite everything he really does try to see the very very best in people long after they might not deserve it anymore.

That does not necessarily mean Felicia.

Maybe.

"I know you will, but I'd feel like a dickbird if I didn't tell you." He said dick... how... adult of him. "Remember though, I'm there if you need me. I'm not saying I'll go fighting the Avengers for you..." Because he's not going to, shaking his head slowly, "But if you get in too deep, I have a flashlight and don't mind digging in the mud." Hands out, butt back against the wall.

"Hey, you think I need a Public Relations person?" Random. "I feel like my brand is kind of getting soggy..."

Black Cat has posed:
The Heroic Belief card is played even despite Felicia's hazarding against it. Her smile twists, influenced by the smallest kernel of introspection deep in her criss-crossed black little heart. How dare, Parker -- how very dare. Her arms end up folded beneath her chest, which has the assumed effect in turn as to the fit of her suit.

"If I have to call you in, I am in over my head so deep, you'll need an elevator shaft and a prayer, Spidey." A sour note in her voice is shaken away along with rain-wetted hair still straggling down her face. Grimacing, the thief evalutes her current circumstances: standing in the weather, talking to someone who //should// annoy the hell out of her, but somehow doesn't. Ugh.

"Is that an actual question though? A PR person? You mean somebody other than that douche-canoe, JJJ-too many-J's-in-my-name-what's-his-face? The verbal vomit he spews is getting old, sure. Find somebody perky and impressed with your inevitable, flawless do-goodery. Hell, go talk to your Captain buddy. He's probably got some shining example of PR staff."

Spider-Man has posed:
"Dude, he's got Janet Van freakin' Dyne..." Spidey opens his hands in a what more do you need shrug. Literaly this guy has a shrug for every situation. It's like he bought all the shrugs at a clearance sale and just throws them out. His hands come up in another this is just a clearance shrug found at the bottom of the basket on a Tuesday night in Walmart.

"If you wait that long, I'm definitely going to complain the entire time... like..." Hands out, palms up, shoulders raised in a, please don't make me do that, just call me early so we can skip the griping shrug. "Besides, I don't pray. It's kind of like writing to Santa Claus.. ya stop doing it once you realize it's just yer mam."

Jokes from the jokster.

"I guess... but you can't even imagine what HER rates go for.. I guess I'll have to stick with free press ala J.J.Jabroni." Said as he steps up ont he edge of the roof half wall as if he's about to jump backwards, "I'll see ya around? Hopefully with no need of an elevator shaft and a prayer? Kind of a terrible way to meet up.. awkward ya know? Wondering which one of us smells lowkey of lighter fluid and battery acid... In my head you were fighting a super villain that used those, bee tee dubs."

Black Cat has posed:
Drawing fingers back through her hair to get it out of her face, Felicia sighs as she watches the young hero move to leave. "Yes, Spidey, I'll be around, even if I have to climb back up the elevator shaft myself. When I reach the stop, I'll still smell like Artemisia." Her perfume comes from London, apparently. Her smile is hard around the edges, sweet like anti-freeze only momentarily, before it softens into its more familiar rose-petal set.

"You do know this Steve guy though, so...nothing's stopping you from asking Janet about PR." There's a familiarity to how she tosses around the Wasps's name, but it could be continued bravado. Turning on her heel, Felicia then sways away in the opposite direction.

Hate to see her go, but love to watch her leave.

"Say hi to the sour-puss McHatieFace for me," she sing-songs over her shoulder by way of farewell.