The bell above the laundromat's front door chimed as Ethan pushed it open. The air inside was sharp with the scent of new paint, freshly cleaned tile, and the faint metallic tang of brand-new machinery. Rows of gleaming washers and dryers lined the walls, each of them freshly installed and spotless, their chrome surfaces reflecting the fluorescent lights overhead.
He had called Felicia after leaving Peter at the Insight's building because he wanted to finish this project and be done with it.
Felicia strolled in behind him, still towel-drying her hair, wearing casual clothes but carrying herself with the lazy grace of the Black Cat. She whistled low as she took in the room.
"You really went all out," she said, circling one of the new dryers with a catlike grin. "Looks like a real business. Almost boring. Which, of course, makes it perfect."
Ethan folded his arms, letting his eyes sweep across the polished machines. "That's the point. Nobody's going to give this place a second look. A laundromat is as invisible as it gets." He allowed himself a small smirk. "And boring, but still keeps the lights on."
He guided her past the rows of machines to the small office tucked behind the counter. Inside, the desk and filing cabinets looked ordinary enough, but Ethan walked to the far wall and slid a panel aside. A lock gleamed in the dim light. He produced a key, turned it, and the outer wall opened inward, showing a second door with a keypad. Ethan typed the code '7974' and the second door opened.
Felicia's eyebrows arched. "Secret entrances? My favorite."
A narrow staircase led them down into the basement. The space smelled faintly of fresh concrete and varnish. Fluorescent bulbs hummed overhead, casting light on bare shelves and the clean, unfinished floor. Several crates were stacked in one corner, but otherwise the room was empty—ready.
"This is yours," Ethan said, stepping aside so she could take in the space. "Stocked with basics for now—power lines, reinforced shelves, enough to get started. But you're the only one with access. The entrance is keyed to your office. No one comes down here unless you want them to."
Felicia's grin widened as she slowly turned, her eyes roaming across the bare walls. "My own little den. Cute. But it needs more than empty shelves and fluorescent lights. No toys, no claws."
"Which is why you need to hurry up and finish your list," Ethan replied. "Once Oscorp is handled, I can start sourcing what you'll need. Until then, consider this… your canvas, so to speak."
She arched an eyebrow as she took the paper from him. "You're awfully generous with my little side project. Most people would tell me to keep the claws sheathed and just play laundromat owner."
"Most people aren't me," Ethan replied smoothly. "This basement will be as useful to you as it is to me. But we don't have the luxury of building everything at once. Oscorp comes first. Once Norman falls, we'll have breathing room—and funding—to build whatever you want down here."
Felicia twirled the paper between her fingers, studying him. "Oscorp, Oscorp, Oscorp. You keep circling that name like a hawk. What is it, really? Spider's personal grudge, or your pet project?"
"Both," Ethan admitted. He leaned against one of the empty shelves, watching her carefully. "Which is why I've got a job for you."
He reached into his jacket and pulled out a thin folder. Felicia took it and flipped it open, revealing a rough map of an Oscorp warehouse and the address of where it was near the docks. Handwritten notes marked guard rotations, camera blind spots, and ventilation routes. Laminated passkeys were clipped to the page. At the back of the folder was a short list written in his neat script:
Spider-Slayer servo/optic unit
Oscorp mini-power cell
Prototype optics
Light-bending film / dampening foam
Control visor/glove
Felicia flipped through it, her brow furrowing. "What is this? A shopping list? I thought we were done with you sending me out on random errands since I'm busy."
Ethan smirked. "Exactly, it's a shopping list. Besides, I know you finished up what I wanted you to do a while ago and have nothing else to do. The Oscorp warehouse is stocked with R&D leftovers, failed prototypes, test models. Half of it's junk, but these items—" he tapped the page with one finger "—these are worth taking. I'll need them for Oscorp, and frankly, most of what you'd probably want me to make you will end up using these pieces anyway. Think of it as… shopping for both of us. You more so than me in the end, so it's not really an arrand, but rather a mutually beneficial heist."
Felicia glanced down at the passkeys, then back at him. "You're awfully well-prepared. Blueprints, access cards, and a list of the good stuff. How much do you really know, Ethan? About Oscorp. About me. About Spider."
Her tone was light, but the question lingered in the air like a knife.
Ethan didn't flinch. He met her gaze steadily, his expression calm. "Enough to stay alive. Enough to keep you alive too."
She laughed softly, but there was no humor in it. "That's not an answer."
"Well, it's the only one you're going to get from me tonight."
They stared at each other for a long moment, the tension sharp but not hostile. Felicia was the kind of person who thrived on curiosity, on testing boundaries. Ethan knew if he revealed too much, she'd grow wary—but if he revealed nothing, she'd walk. Balance was everything.
Felicia finally broke the silence, sliding the folder back into his hands. "Fine. I'll play along. But I am getting tired of being your errand girl."
"You're not," Ethan said. "You're the only one who can get into that warehouse without triggering every alarm Oscorp has. You're fast, quiet, and greedy enough to do it right."
Her smile returned, sharper this time. "Flattery will get you far. But don't forget—I expect my cut. If I'm shopping, I'm keeping what I like."
"Of course," Ethan said smoothly. "As long as you bring me what's on the list, the rest is yours."
Felicia tucked the list into her jacket pocket, her expression thoughtful. She walked past him, trailing a finger along one of the shelves. "This laundromat will keep people from looking too hard at Felicia Harper. The basement will keep me entertained. But you, Ethan Kane…" She turned back toward him, her grin feline. "You're a mystery. And I don't like mysteries I can't solve."
Ethan chuckled lightly, though his mind was already racing ahead. "Then solve me slowly, Felicia. Piece by piece. We've got time."
She tilted her head, eyes narrowing in playful suspicion. "We'll see."
They climbed back up to the office, Felicia locking the hidden entrance behind them. Upstairs, the hum of the laundromat machines filled the silence. Felicia leaned against the counter, watching Ethan with that same unreadable smirk.
"Tomorrow, then," she said, tapping her pocket where the list rested.
"Tomorrow," Ethan confirmed.
As he stepped back out into the Brooklyn evening, the neon laundromat sign buzzing above him, Ethan let his calm façade slip for just a second. Felicia was sharp. Too sharp. He could already see her questions forming.
And that was fine. A thief like her needed curiosity to stay hooked. But she could never be allowed to see how big the whole board really was.