S.H.I.E.L.D. Training Facility – Early Morning
The steel door bore a sign that read Knock Before Entering. Nick Fury rapped his knuckles against it once, and the door hissed open. A flustered staffer slipped past him, tugging her uniform into place.
Inside, America Chavez was still sprawled across her bunk, hair a chaotic mess. She groaned as she sat up.
"You conqueror of universes," Fury said dryly, "go wash your face. I've got work for you."
He slid a tablet onto the desk. While America trudged toward the sink, splashing cold water across her face, Fury's gravelly voice carried on.
"We've got intel on a theft. Rare item. Unknown energy source. The thief used Wakandan tech to cover her tracks."
America raised an eyebrow, towel still pressed to her cheek. "So… not your average pickpocket."
"Not even close." Fury's one good eye locked on her. "This one's a cat with nine lives."
America blinked, then scoffed. "You're joking."
But her sarcasm faltered. The word cat tugged a name straight into her mind: Felicia Hardy. Black Cat. Notorious for slipping through vaults, safes, and hearts without a scratch.
Fury seemed to read the thought in her expression. "Be careful. This woman doesn't just steal tech. She's fast, sharp, and twice as dangerous when cornered."
America rolled her eyes, masking a flicker of intrigue. "Great. Interdimensional vandalism by Catwoman's sassier cousin. Just what I needed."
Fury didn't smile. "Don't underestimate her. Most people do. That's why they lose."
…
Later – New York Skyline
Hours later, America soared between skyscrapers, the city lights painting streaks beneath her boots. She traced the faint, multicolored energy signatures left behind by the stolen artifact.
Her heart wasn't just pounding with duty. Beneath the adrenaline, a strange curiosity twisted. Felicia Hardy. Black Cat. If it was really her, this wasn't going to be just another mission.
It was going to be a chase.
And America had the feeling she might enjoy it more than she should.
Perched on a rooftop with a half-eaten slice of pizza balanced on her knee, America Chavez checked her detector for the hundredth time. The city hummed beneath her, neon lights flickering like restless stars.
Her phone buzzed, Kate Bishop's name glowing on the screen.
"Just imagine," America muttered, answering, "Fury sends me to chase down Black Cat. Black Cat, Kate. I'm a glorified dog catcher now."
Kate's laugh rang through the speaker. "Hah! Isn't she Spider-Man's girlfriend?"
America rolled her eyes. "Ex. At least, that's what Fury's file says."
"Oops. My bad." Kate chuckled.
The device in America's lap shrieked, beeping sharp and fast. She straightened.
"Is that the signal?" Kate asked.
"Yeah. Gotta go. Thanks for keeping me company."
Kate's voice softened, playful. "Anytime. And hey—don't get smitten by her claws."
America snorted. "Please. I'm not that easy."
"Mm-hm. See you later. I miss you."
"…Miss you too." America hung up and launched into the night.
Minutes Later – Rooftop Across Midtown
The trail ended at a rooftop bathed in pale moonlight. And there she was—Felicia Hardy, standing with a gleaming device cradled in her hands. Her white hair shimmered like silver threads in the dark, her black suit hugging every move with feline grace.
America landed with a thud. "So it's true. Cats do like to sneak around and pretend they own the place."
Felicia turned, lips curling into a smile. "Well, look at this. A Captain America knockoff with attitude."
"I'm not a knockoff," America snapped. "No shield, no stripes. Just a universe-saving, portal-punching powerhouse."
Felicia tilted her head, amused. "Cute. But with that costume, you look like you're auditioning for the role of sidekick." She toyed with the device, spinning it between her fingers like it weighed nothing.
"Hand it over, Felicia," America demanded, stepping closer.
Felicia's smile sharpened. "Mmm… no. I've got big plans for this beauty."
"You stole Wakandan tech mixed with energy that could collapse reality. You can't keep it."
"Reality's always on the brink, darling," Felicia purred. "That's why it's so much fun to play with."
America narrowed her eyes. "I'm not joking."
"I know." Felicia leaned closer, voice dropping to a whisper that carried in the night air. "That's what makes you so adorable."
America lunged forward, fists glowing with energy. Felicia sidestepped effortlessly, her movements smooth as silk.
"Mm, tables turned, sweetheart," Felicia laughed, her voice purring. "Usually, I'm the one doing the chasing."
"Doesn't matter," America snapped, wheeling around. "You're still my prey."
She swung again, but Felicia ducked, pivoted, and let the punch carve through empty air.
"Careful," Felicia teased, circling her. "Didn't you read my file? Missing every swing makes you look… inexperienced." Her smile widened, playful and cruel at once.
"Shut up!" America growled. With a burst of power, she leapt high, aiming to slam Felicia into the roof tiles.
Felicia slipped away at the last second, landing with feline grace. "Tch, adorable. All that fire, none of the aim."
"Stop playing games!" America shouted.
Felicia's eyes glittered. She twirled the stolen device in her hand like a toy, then leaned close enough that America caught the low, velvet edge of her voice.
"Games? Oh, darling, this isn't just for me. I stole this on… commission. Someone bigger than Fury's paygrade wants it. But maybe…" she tilted her head, "…I'd rather hand it to you. If you can catch me."
America hesitated, thrown off for the first time. "What are you talking about?"
Felicia smirked, taking a slow step back toward the edge of the rooftop. "Tell you what—if you manage to pin me down, you can take me anywhere you want. Your HQ, your little S.H.I.E.L.D. cell…" Her gaze lingered on America just a moment too long. "…or maybe somewhere more private."
The words hung in the night air, half-threat, half-invitation. America's fists clenched, her heartbeat skipping for reasons that had nothing to do with the mission.
America stood panting on the rooftop, fists still glowing faintly with leftover energy. The stolen device was gone—slipped right out of her reach. Her chest tightened with the sting of failure.
From the shadows came Felicia's laugh—low, velvety, with just enough cruelty to make it sting. "Tsk, tsk. You swing wide, you miss, and you sulk. I expected more from Fury's little prodigy."
America gritted her teeth. "This isn't a game! I will catch you, Felicia."
Felicia stepped into the moonlight, her white hair gleaming, her smile a slash of mischief. "Oh, honey… It's all a game. You just haven't learned the rules yet." She tapped the stolen device against her palm, then tilted her head, eyes glinting. "Ask Fury. He knows exactly whose board we're playing on."
America's stomach twisted at the implication. "What are you talking about?!"
But Felicia was already backing toward the ledge, graceful as ever. She raised her grappling hook, winked, and purred, "Catch me if you can. And when you do…" Her lips curved into something dangerously close to a dare. "…you'd better decide whether you're turning me in, or keeping me for yourself."
The hook snapped onto a distant antenna, and in a blink she was gone—swinging into the night, leaving America breathless, furious… and more curious than she wanted to admit.
America clenched her fists, teeth grinding in frustration. Felicia had slipped away again, but it wasn't just the loss of the device that rattled her. It was the thief herself—her confidence, her dangerous charm, the way her presence lingered even after she was gone.
Why am I even thinking about her like that? America shook her head hard, as if the thought itself was treason. I'm a hero. She's a thief. That's all this is. Nothing more.
And yet… There was something about Felicia that pulled at her. A dangerous thrill. Like standing on the edge of a rooftop with the wind daring you to jump.
Her comm buzzed. Fury's voice cut in, sharp and unimpressed.
"America. Do you have the stolen tech?"
She swallowed, jaw tight. "Negative, Director. Black Cat got away with them."
A long sigh crackled through the line. "Figures. Teenagers." His tone carried more irritation than surprise. "Get back to headquarters. Sit tight until I decide what to do with you."
The line went dead.
America bristled. "Teenager. I'm twenty. That's adult enough, Fury." She kicked a loose stone across the rooftop, watching it skitter into the dark. Her own words echoed in her head: adult enough.
Somehow, the memory of Felicia's smirk flashed with it.
"Next time," she muttered, opening a star-shaped portal. "I'll catch her. Justice, Chavez. Justice. Not anything else."
But even as she stepped through, she wasn't entirely sure if she was convincing Fury… or herself.
.
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To be continued