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Apr. 16th, 2007 | 11:31 pm
She slinked into the night, the moonlight catching her just so as she gracefully stood atop the roof of the Baxter Building, a haughty yet sexy smile gracing full, dewy lips. She threw her hair over one shoulder, her long platinum locks catching moonlight, giving her an almost ethereal, supernaturalistic look.
Perhaps I should have really amped up the supernatural angle to my legend, Felicia Hardy mused as she dropped a large black sack on the ground. She wasn’t here to steal anything, not tonight, but there had been a charity ball a few weeks ago where Susan Richards – the Invisible Woman – had given Felicia a rather dirty look for daring to crash her party. It was a look that Felicia remembered, and a look that Felicia planned to get her own back for.
The Baxter building might have been damn well protected – there was every reason in the world for it to be – but Felicia Hardy herself had been in this business for years. She had learned all the tricks of the trade from the best of the best, and learned from the mistakes of the worst of the worst, and through it all, she had learned how to bypass the most difficult security systems. Plus, the fact that she was now a private eye in her own right? Icing on the cake. And a very helpful alibi whenever she had need of it.
Felicia gracefully prowled over to the edge of the building, readying the claw-like grappling hooks that she had hidden under the fur on her wrists, ready to swoop down to the third floor down from the top and take just enough equipment to serve as a warning to Susan Richards not to mess with her as well as to help fortify Felicia’s own already strong personal security systems.
She braced herself to make the jump when she felt a pleasant buzzing from between her cleavage. Grinning wryly, Felicia reached a gloved-and-clawed hand into her low-cut top and withdrew a practically miniscule cell phone.
There was only one person who would call her at a time like this.
“Spider,” she said in a low, lilting tone, the fine hairs on her neck standing up with pleasure as a shudder of sexual excitement coursed through her slender yet voluptuous body. “I can’t talk right now. I’m out being a bad kitty.” Flipping her phone shut without really waiting for an answer – it was so much fun to keep him dangling and wondering what it was exactly that she was up to – she stuck her phone back in its spot before gazing back down at the edge of the building, suddenly rethinking her plan. While it would be an interesting thing to do, in a way, it would also be an attack on Reed Richards, Johnny Storm, and Ben Grimm.
That wasn’t something that Felicia Hardy wanted to do. She stepped back away from the ledge, letting the wind caress her body. Something else then. Something with more finesse and style. Something more befitting the woman that Felicia Hardy was today.
Her lips curved into a quirky smile. She knew just the thing too.
In the meantime, though, she had other things to do. Like go see a certain Spider…
Perhaps I should have really amped up the supernatural angle to my legend, Felicia Hardy mused as she dropped a large black sack on the ground. She wasn’t here to steal anything, not tonight, but there had been a charity ball a few weeks ago where Susan Richards – the Invisible Woman – had given Felicia a rather dirty look for daring to crash her party. It was a look that Felicia remembered, and a look that Felicia planned to get her own back for.
The Baxter building might have been damn well protected – there was every reason in the world for it to be – but Felicia Hardy herself had been in this business for years. She had learned all the tricks of the trade from the best of the best, and learned from the mistakes of the worst of the worst, and through it all, she had learned how to bypass the most difficult security systems. Plus, the fact that she was now a private eye in her own right? Icing on the cake. And a very helpful alibi whenever she had need of it.
Felicia gracefully prowled over to the edge of the building, readying the claw-like grappling hooks that she had hidden under the fur on her wrists, ready to swoop down to the third floor down from the top and take just enough equipment to serve as a warning to Susan Richards not to mess with her as well as to help fortify Felicia’s own already strong personal security systems.
She braced herself to make the jump when she felt a pleasant buzzing from between her cleavage. Grinning wryly, Felicia reached a gloved-and-clawed hand into her low-cut top and withdrew a practically miniscule cell phone.
There was only one person who would call her at a time like this.
“Spider,” she said in a low, lilting tone, the fine hairs on her neck standing up with pleasure as a shudder of sexual excitement coursed through her slender yet voluptuous body. “I can’t talk right now. I’m out being a bad kitty.” Flipping her phone shut without really waiting for an answer – it was so much fun to keep him dangling and wondering what it was exactly that she was up to – she stuck her phone back in its spot before gazing back down at the edge of the building, suddenly rethinking her plan. While it would be an interesting thing to do, in a way, it would also be an attack on Reed Richards, Johnny Storm, and Ben Grimm.
That wasn’t something that Felicia Hardy wanted to do. She stepped back away from the ledge, letting the wind caress her body. Something else then. Something with more finesse and style. Something more befitting the woman that Felicia Hardy was today.
Her lips curved into a quirky smile. She knew just the thing too.
In the meantime, though, she had other things to do. Like go see a certain Spider…
