The coffee shop was just quiet enough to be comfortable, but lively enough to ensure no curious ears would linger on their conversation. Ethan took a seat across from Felicia, watching as she stirred her iced mocha absentmindedly, eyes fixed on the renovation blueprints he'd laid out in front of her.
"So, this laundromat turned bunker—when will it be operational?" she asked, eyes flicking up to meet his.
"At this rate, ten days. The contractors are fast, and the mods are minimal. There wasn't much to do after that," Ethan replied smoothly. "It'll have biometric locks, hidden surveillance, and a fully reinforced basement. You could survive a siege in there comfortably. Well, you will still have to buy your own amenities, though, and food still."
Felicia smirked, leaning forward conspiratorially. "Do you expect me to need it that soon?"
"I like to be prepared," Ethan said lightly, meeting her gaze evenly. "In our line of work, it should be a habit worth keeping."
Felicia laughed softly, shaking her head. "Our line of work. You make it sound like I've officially joined your crew."
Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Haven't you?"
Felicia didn't answer immediately, instead swirling her drink, ice clinking softly against the glass. "You've set me up nicely. But I've got some additional needs."
Ethan leaned back, adopting a casual pose. "Go ahead. I aim to please. I can't have you complaining later on when I make my requests."
Felicia took a breath, meeting his eyes steadily. "Equipment—specialized gear. Quiet purchases. Custom jobs. Can you handle those?"
"I can," Ethan said confidently. "But I need the details?"
"Grappling gear," she began. "Electromagnetic gloves strong enough to scale glass. Specialized lenses—infrared, night vision, enhanced zoom. Secure comms—wireless, untraceable. Lightweight body armor—flexible but strong enough to stop a blade."
Ethan listened intently, silently assessing each request. He mentally cataloged what he knew and what he didn't. Grappling gear, simple enough. Comms and armor—no problem. The lenses and gloves, however, posed a slight challenge. He'd need more knowledge—materials science, optics, and electromagnetism. Nothing he couldn't handle, but he'd definitely have to spend tomorrow afternoon buried in textbooks at the public library again.
"It's doable," Ethan finally said. "I'll gather resources tomorrow and order parts tonight. Expect everything within two weeks."
Felicia nodded appreciatively. "You know, sometimes I remember how young you are. Then you go ahead and pull something like this off that makes me forget it."
Ethan just smirked, sipping his espresso. "Age is irrelevant when it comes to genius."
Just then, Ethan's phone buzzed quietly. He glanced down, smiling slightly. "Peter's close."
"Good timing," Felicia murmured, glancing briefly at his watch.
A bell chimed; the door swung open on a draft of city noise. Peter Parker stepped inside, looking uncertain until Felicia smiled warmly and waved him over.
"Hey there, Tiger," Felicia greeted smoothly, eyes glittering with amusement.
Peter winced slightly, the familiar nickname jolting him briefly. "Seriously?"
Felicia shrugged innocently. "Better than calling you Spider, right?"
Peter slid into the empty seat between them, casting a cautious glance toward Ethan. "You're early, for once."
Ethan smiled faintly. "Blame Felicia. She and I had our own appointment before this one. So I can't be late."
Peter's gaze shifted back to Felicia, curiosity battling suspicion. "Did you really accept his offer?"
Felicia leaned back, casually holding up the necklace with the RFID card Ethan had given her. "Yes. The kid and I were actually discussing expanding what he can do for me when you arrived."
Peter's eyes narrowed slightly, pulling his matching RFID card from his pocket and placing it cautiously on the table. "And what exactly did he offer you to make you risk another run-in with Venom?"
Felicia exchanged a glance with Ethan, amusement dancing behind her carefully neutral expression. "Not much—just a new identity, a safe house, and enough funds to disappear if things ever go south."
Peter stared, incredulous. "That's 'not much?'"
Ethan leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table. "In fairness, Felicia's standards are higher than most."
Peter opened his mouth to respond, but Ethan smoothly slid a manila folder across the table, cutting him off.
"What's this?" Peter asked warily.
"Your offer," Ethan said simply. "Or at least, the start of it."
Peter cautiously opened the folder, his expression growing increasingly shocked as he scanned the documents within. "A building deed?"
Ethan nodded, leaning forward slightly. "It's an old print shop in Newark. I bought it quietly, using some laundered money taken from Fisk. Before you ask, it's safe, Felicia and I already discussed it. It's solidly built, easily secured, and perfectly placed for what I have in mind."
Peter frowned, clearly confused. "And what exactly is that?"
Ethan met Peter's eyes directly, sincerity replacing his usual careful neutrality. "A newspaper, Peter. Our own newspaper—real journalism, free from Jameson, agendas, and corruption."
Felicia raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised as well, though she masked it better. Peter, however, looked downright stunned.
"You want…to start a newspaper?" Peter echoed faintly.
"Exactly," Ethan said firmly. "You're a talented photographer with journalistic instincts. You need a legitimate front. With this, not only will you continue doing the job you love, but with me as a co-owner, you'll have an easier time taking care of those responsibilities as the other guy. Not only that, journalism will allow us to gather certain information, influence, and have an ear to the ground. If done right, it could even be used to expose people like Fisk, Osborn, and whoever else threatens this city."
Peter stared at Ethan, then slowly looked down at the deed again, shaking his head slowly. "This isn't some small offer. This is a life-changing decision."
Ethan nodded, serious now. "Yes, it is. And the decision is entirely yours. But understand, Peter—this isn't just about business. It's about creating something you, specifically, can believe in. Something you can use to help people, in ways Peter Parker can, but Spider-Man can't."
Peter glanced between Felicia and Ethan again, clearly wrestling with suspicion and cautious optimism. "This is real?"
Felicia tilted her head slightly, looking equally impressed and intrigued. "I believe it is. And speaking from experience, the kid's promises have a way of being frighteningly real."
Peter swallowed heavily, setting the folder down carefully. "This isn't some weird power-play?"
Ethan's eyes never wavered from Peter's face. "Power is part of it. But the goal isn't power alone—it's security. Influence. An infrastructure that protects all of us. You, Felicia, Amy, Paige, Rachel, Aunt May, and even MJ. Something solid that you have control of. Something stable so that if you ever retire, Peter Parker can still do some good."
Peter's brow furrowed. "And you want me to run it?"
"Yes," Ethan replied simply. "You're exactly who I need—someone genuinely good. Ethical. A heart and conscience, balancing out the cynicism and pragmatism that Felicia and I bring."
Felicia laughed lightly, tapping Peter's RFID card meaningfully. "Face it, Tiger. You just hit the jackpot."
Peter groaned softly, but a reluctant smile tugged at his lips. "You really have a way with words."
Felicia winked. "So I've been told."
The silence that settled was thoughtful; Peter was clearly deep in thought. Ethan waited, patient, letting Peter fully absorb the weight of what he'd offered.
Finally, Peter looked up. "And if I refuse?"
Ethan smiled, calm and genuine. "Then nothing changes. You can keep the protections I've already provided, and we'll work separately. But consider the potential here—this could help countless people. It's an offer you'll regret turning down."
Peter exhaled slowly, nodding. "I… need more time. This is huge. Life changing at that."
"That's understandable," Ethan agreed smoothly. "Take as much time as you need, Peter."
Peter carefully tucked the deed back into the folder, expression distant. "This… really changes things."
"Only if you let it," Ethan said gently. "Change is constant, but the choice to embrace it remains yours. I remember reading that on a fortune cookie once… sorry, bad joke."
Peter stood slowly, clearly still processing. "I need air. And a very long walk."
Felicia grinned gently. "We'll be here."
He smiled weakly, nodded once, and stepped out, disappearing onto the street beyond.
Felicia turned to Ethan, shaking her head. "You know, kid, just when I think I've figured you out, you pull something new out of thin air."
Ethan sipped his espresso, unbothered. "Adaptability is key. I can't just offer you both the same thing. You have your own individual needs."
Felicia chuckled softly. "Peter's right to be cautious, though. This newspaper plan—is it really about security, or is there more to it?"
Ethan met her gaze calmly. "There's always more to it. It's a little bit about control, too. Narratives shape perception. Perception shapes reality. Peter's good heart balances my pragmatism. With him in charge, I hope to bring people a new perspective."
She leaned forward slightly. "And if Peter says no?"
Ethan smiled slightly, eyes glittering sharply. "Then we adjust. But trust me, Ms. Hardy—Peter won't refuse. He just needs time to convince himself it's the right choice. Besides, I'm more than positive that he'll call me tomorrow."
Felicia shook her head, amused and wary. "I'm sure he will, knowing you. You're something else, Ethan."
"Maybe," he murmured, finishing his espresso. "But you'll find I'm exactly what you need."
Felicia laughed softly, raising her glass mockingly. "Here's hoping you're right, because if you're wrong, this whole thing crashes spectacularly."
He raised his cup in a silent toast. Failure, after all, wasn't in his vocabulary.