Dove and Dart (Under Extreme Editing)

Friends or Frienemies

Dart:

Spiderman hadn't been much of a help. Little Peter could only point me in the direction the bike thief had gone before he swung away claiming he had some "personal issues" to attend to. I suppose he meant Gwen Stacey.

Anyways, it hadn't been to hard to actually find my bike. The chick had left it haphazardly parked outside of a Starbucks. There wasn't a scratch on it, any damage at all really, but no one steals from me and gets away with it.

After locating my precious vehicle and getting ahold of my assets I checked my phone to see reports of a fugitive on the run from S.H.I.E.L.D. just a mile or so from where I was. Well, I could take care of this so called "Winged Bandit" and report to Fury that I made a friend. I hope Spiderman helping me get me bike back will count because even with as little contact as I have had, I am sick of people. The passengers and crew of the helicarrier were far more considerate of my needs for space and my temper. New York pedestrians had a horrid habit of bringing out my bad side.  

According to the reports that my phone was annoyingly buzzing off to me, she had been surrounded on top of a major department store roof. Typical. How much do you want to bet the Winged Bandit has wings? Why else would S.H.I.E.L.D. be after her?

After grabbing my duffle bag and ripping the keys from the ignition of my bike, I jammed a few quarters in the parking meter. I wanted this pathetic excuse for a mission over with.

I jog into a subway entrance and into a bathroom, not really bothering to look at the gender sign. I am pretty sure I scared some guys into doing their business twice as fast by whipping six knives out of my bag and loading them into the hilts around my belt. With a quick glance in the mirror I passed a sickly sweet smile at their shocked and terrified faces, before dashing into a stall with my bag.

I whipped out my phone and opened a scanning app, holding it to my arm, I immediately located the tracker and device preventing me from teleporting anywhere, I was honestly sick of walking. Who walks anywhere these days anyways?

Taking a thin knife I put it between my teeth after wrapping a strip of cloth I tore from my black tank around it. Biting down on the knife, I took a secondary blade and set to work taking out the tracker, which had not been placed as deep as I originally predicted.

The knife point pierced my skin and I barely felt it. I had spent my life getting wailed on and wailing on professionally trained master assassins and even locked in prison cells with creatures like Abomination just to bulk up. A knife prick was nothing. I few drops of blood splattered on the white tile and I heard exclamations of disgust before feet pounded to exit the bathroom. I guess it was more then a few drops, but it seemed like hardly any to me. I have removed a bullet from my right thigh with my bare hands before, this was nothing.

I finally pried out the stupid pill shaped device and with a splatter of blood I flick it off my knife and onto the ground. I crunched it under my boot and then wiped my knife off on my shirt and returned everything to my pockets and belt.

As I was wrapping my arm up with a black bandana I found in my bag, my phone buzzed with a million messages probably due to the loss of connection with the tracker. I smiled wryly and tied off the knot. Come and find me Fury.

After second thought, I tossed my phone in the toilet and flushed before exiting with my blood soaking my jacket and leaving a trail of drops as I parted the subway passenger crowd.

In the middle of them, all after I was certain I had all of their attention, I jumped.

It's one of the most thrilling feelings in the world besides a punch to the face, taking off at 120 MPH hour on my bike, or a shot of vodka to jump to any location in the whole universe. It's like the whole world is a split second away, because it actually is. It doesn't hurt, or tingle, it's just a rush and I would be lying to say I wasn't addicted to it. I used to practice my jumps by teleporting between the huge propeller blades of the helicarrier engines while it was in flight. I am not pancake flat and that is evidence enough to prove I was good at what I do.