Yacht

The kitchen of Felix Faeth's mansion was in chaos, but the good kind.

Pans sizzled on the stove. The smell of bacon, eggs, and fresh toast filled the air. Rio and Yuri were working together—Rio flipping pancakes with the expertise of a mother who knew how to feed a teenager while Yuri handled the bacon and the last of the eggs with the efficiency of a butler.

Felix sat at the large island counter, sipping coffee. Miles was on his phone, lazily stirring a glass of orange juice.

The Defenders were scattered around the kitchen. Captain Samantha Wilson stood with her hands folded. Carol Danvers was beside the captain while Monica was across from Felix. Luke Cage, dressed in his NYPD uniform, was pouring himself a cup of coffee. He looked too awake for someone who had probably been up all night.

Then there was Agent Shadowcat. She was casually sharpening a knife at the table, an unsettling smirk on her face. Felix had no idea why she needed a knife at breakfast, but at this point, he'd stopped questioning her choices.

"Oh hey, look." Miles pulled his phone close to Felix. "Look, they're talking about you."

Christine Everhart sat at a desk. Her left eye was bandaged. Apparently, while streaming some parts of the disaster-affected parts of the city, a rooftop crumbled and a rock hit her hard. The blonde kept going anyway—and to be honest, it gave rogue-ish charm to her. 

"—Oscorp, New York and its people have started to heal. At the helm of it all—and the man who we can direct our thanks to the most…" 

Miles was getting giddy, legs shaking.

"...Norman Osborn!"

"Or…not." Miles blinked twice and scratched the back of his head.

"Norman personally led a team of people that managed to work up a cure for our city AND its people. We've been told there were three special dosages and that to distribute everything, as you all may recall, they did so in a gas-form friendly to the air. The device responsible for the rapid distribution was invented by none other than Mr. Norman Osborn, who claimed the idea came to him a long time ago and that only today, he put it into practice!" 

Everyone turned to look at Felix, expecting some kind of reaction.

Felix just shrugged and sipped on his coffee. "What?"

"Wait. That doesn't bother you?" Luke asked. 

Felix laughed. "Why would it? Norman funded the Ganali Device, which means he gets the primary credit. That's how science works. The company takes credit, not the actual people involved. You don't go into this expecting fame. You expect to further the future."

Luke frowned. "Honestly? That just pisses me off."

"If people actually cared about the individual minds behind every major scientific breakthrough, we'd have posters of James Clerk Maxwell."

Miles furrowed his brow. "Who?"

"Big burly Scottish guy. You'll learn about him when you attend MIT."

Rio choked at the remark and barely managed to plate the pancakes. Yuri raised a confused brow. 

"I don't like it," Captain America stated openly. "The people of America should know who their saviour is." 

"I'm not interested in fame. As long as some people know what I did, that's enough." 

Miles hummed. "Okay, but if you did get credit and, I don't know, won a Nobel Peace prize, what would you say?"

"What would I talk about? It's a Nobel Prize, you can only talk about boring stuff like family and friends."

"Yeah, so why not switch it up? Talk about, like…actually, I got nothing."

"See? It's a boring event for boring people."

****

Felix had been in the lab for hours, deep into refining radiation absorption models, when his phone buzzed on the desk. The name on the screen made him sigh.

Norman Osborn.

He considered ignoring it. Just this once.

Then he remembered that ignoring Norman was the fastest way to get a surprise visit from Norman—and that was infinitely worse.

With a resigned breath, he picked up.

"Felix," Norman's smooth voice filled his ear. "Busy?"

"Always," Felix replied, glancing at his endless data streams. It was a mix of Herbie. SHIELD, the American government, local data from the people working, Herbie who analyzed body cams in real-time, and Felix's Spider-Bots. He had more data than anybody else.

"It's fine. Clear your schedule."

Felix frowned. "For what?"

"For a change of pace," Norman said, as if that explained anything.

Felix pinched the bridge of his nose. "Norman—"

"It's down at Jersey City at the NY Boat Charter."

...what?

"You want me to go to a yacht?"

"Not a yacht, my yacht."

Felix stared at the screen for a second before rubbing his temples. "Norman, I have work—"

"Men like us can't always be working," Norman interrupted smoothly. "We have to rest. Think. Talk. Let the people know what we've done. Let our minds rest in the glory of our ambitions." 

Felix suppressed a sigh. There was no arguing with Norman when he went full philosopher-CEO mode. "Who else will be there?"

"The president, Anthony Stark, Emma Frost. Those with equal amounts of influence as I."

Felix's grip tightened on the phone. 'In other words, the rich are just living on as always while everybody else has to fend for scraps,' he thought bitterly.

Norman, ever perceptive, continued, "Princess Shuri of Wakanda will be there too. The two of you were excellent for Project New Element. I plan for all three of us to have a long chat on future distribution." 

Felix cocked his head. Wait a minute… 

"You mean rebuild the city and Oscorp Tower to make it compatible with Project New Element?"

Felix could feel the pleased, devilish smile on Norman Osborn. "I knew I liked you. Yes, that's exactly right. Never squander on an opportunity, especially when it benefits everyone."

Shit…he was right too. Project New Element was his best way at gaining back power and changing New York better for the future. The New Element was not very pollutive and supremely efficient. Entire city blocks could be powered by it.

'And if I can figure out a way to apply Pym Particles…compact renewable energy worldwide might be in reach too…!' 

Suddenly, the ideas were firing up in his head like crazy. The brief pause and widening of eyes led Norman to speak again. 

"I have already done my own upgrades to it as well. What you and Shuri gave me was what I call refined Arc Power. To be able to hold it and carry it with no issues, I prepared an encasing. So, I have decided to call it the Arc Reactor. I will be showing it to my guests tonight."

'Tonight!? Are you kidding—ugh, whatever.'

"Fine," Felix said with a forced smile. "I'll be there."

"Excellent," Norman said, the smile practically audible. "I'll send a limo. Take only Captain America with you. The other guards will not be a good look."

Norman hung up and Felix was suddenly staring blankly at his work.

A yacht full of billionaires and world leaders while the city struggled to rebuild. Well. "Looks like I'm going to a boring event for boring people. Although in this case, it's boring and necessary."

***

Felix stood in front of the grand mirror of his huge bedroom—which, by the way, he still couldn't get used to. Alistair lived in a huge place. The only room that wasn't used was of course the room where Alastair passed. Felix decided to put all of Alistair's most important items in there. A sort-of memorial for the man who gave him his powers.

Felix adjusted the cuffs of his jet-black pressed suit. The fabric was immaculate, crisp in all the right places, the tailoring sharp and precise—almost too precise.

Because while the jacket fit perfectly and the pants draped elegantly, there was… one notable issue.

Felix shifted uncomfortably.

Yep. The crotch was tight. Man. A blessing and a curse. 

He glanced to his side, where Yuri stood with her usual rigid, professional demeanor. She had been watching him with quiet scrutiny, ensuring that the suit—which she had personally tailored—met her exacting standards. She did a lot in this household: cooking, cleaning, and tailoring. Apparently, Alistair drilled it into her after she left the police. 

Felix cleared his throat. "Uh. It's great, Yuri. Really. Top-tier work. Just, um… a little snug."

"It fits perfectly," Yuri replied. 

Felix gave a tight-lipped smile. "Sure. Except in one particular area."

Yuri remained impassive, though he swore he saw the faintest flicker of amusement in her eyes. "Perhaps you should be grateful you are so… burdensome in that region, sir."

"...when I sit, it's going to feel weird."

"You will be fine." Yuri stepped up and brushed a single speck of dust off his lapel, adjusting the fabric with meticulous precision.

"Thank you."

"This is the least I can do," she said evenly. "You are allowing me to stay here. Providing shelter. Employment."

Felix had his arms to his side. "It's really not that big a deal—"

"It is," Yuri interrupted, her voice sharp. "I had nowhere else to go." She adjusted his tie, straightened his collar, then took a step back. "This suit ensures you present yourself properly. That is my job."

Felix studied her for a moment, then nodded. "Well. Thanks."

Yuri gave a curt nod in return. "Again, the thanks come from me, sir."

Felix ran a hand through his hair. "Alright. One last thing—any tips on surviving a yacht full of rich people? Not millionaires, mind you—billionaires. I might have to do some marketing too." 

Yuri folded her hands neatly behind her back. "Master Alistair often attended such gatherings."

"I'm guessing he was very comfortable at these kinds of events," Felix mused.

Yuri nodded. "He was accustomed to wealth from when he was young. He thrived in environments where people played mind games masked as polite conversation."

Felix adjusted his cuffs again. "I'm fine with that, I guess."

"If you wish to survive, remain observant. These people speak in layers—what they say is rarely what they mean. The moment you react emotionally, you've lost."

"So what you're saying is… keep my mouth shut and drink expensive wine?"

Yuri allowed a ghost of a laugh. "That would be a start."

Felix chuckled, adjusting his tie one last time. "Alright. Let's get this over with."

As he turned to leave, Yuri called out, "Good luck, sir."

Outside, the limo and Captain America waited. She opened the door for him and Felix slid into the limo. The soldier joined him and the limo started its drive. 

Across from him, Captain Samantha Wilson sat with her usual composed stance, arms folded, eyes scanning the passing streets as if an assassin could jump out at any moment. Her black tactical suit contrasted heavily with Felix's crisp black-on-black tailored suit, making him look like a guest at an extravagant gala while she looked ready to storm a compound.

"You still look nice."

The soldier smiled and joked, "Still? Does that mean I didn't look good before?"

"No, no, more like…the black battle outfit suits you more, I feel."

Samantha looked over herself. "Hm. I'll consider your fashion statement for the future, Doctor."

"You know you call me Felix…"

"Of course, Doctor." 

The limo turned smoothly onto the highway, heading toward Jersey City, where the NY Boat Charter was waiting with its fleet of luxury yachts. It was a half hour drive, not too long. Felix glanced at his phone. He was going to hack the shit out of every phone there.

"By the way...Norman managed to get the other Defenders off my detail. How?"

"Because he's Norman Osborn."

Ah. Fair enough.

"Not to mention there are other elite guards," Samantha said. "The best of the best all over the world. Too many would crowd the place."

The limo pulled into the dockside lot, where a fleet of gleaming private yachts sat, their polished decks glowing under the dock lights. Felix straightened his tie as the door opened.

Samantha stepped out first, scanning the area with the trained instincts of a soldier, before giving him a subtle nod.

"All clear, Doctor. I'll be watching from a distance. Again, there are other guards so do not be afraid."

"Thank you. I won't."

The Osborn yacht was a monstrosity of wealth and arrogance, stretching longer than some small cruise ships. The deck was lined with imported marble, waiters carried platinum trays of cocktails, and a full string quartet played softly near the lounge area.

Felix took a deep breath as he walked up the ramp, Samantha close behind. She was attracting just as many looks as he was—though Felix suspected it had more to do with the fact that she was Captain America

They had barely stepped onto the deck when a familiar voice called out.

"Felix Faeth, you slippery genius!"

Felix turned just in time to see a flash of royal purple and gold weaving through the crowd toward him.

Shuri.

Felix barely had time to react before Princess Shuri of Wakanda was standing before him, practically bouncing with excitement. She looked like she wanted to hug him but couldn't, what with one hand holding a glass of wine.

"You survived!" she grinned. "If I weren't royalty, I'd tackle-hug you right now."

Felix was genuinely happy to see her. "I did survive, yes. And look at you—you're finally dressed."

Shuri glanced down at her elegant gold Wakandan robes, a mix of modern sleekness and traditional royalty. "Custom made. Anything less and I'd shoot myself."

Standing silently behind Shuri was Okoye, the ever-intimidating leader of the Dora Milaje. The bald warrior had her arms crossed, but there was a rare softness in her normally unyielding expression.

Felix did a two-finger salute at her. "Okoye."

She inclined her head. "Felix Faeth. Glad to see you still stand."

Shuri smirked. "That's rare, you know." They shared a laugh and Felix was served a glass of wine. "Cheers?"

"Cheers."

Clink. The glass came together and so did their voices and joy.

"To Felix," said Shuri as she drank.

"Thank you, thank you." Felix realized that the red blend he was drinking was quite tropical. He was no drinker but even he could tell.

Shuri smirked. "Good, eh?"

"Yeah. Damn."

"It's from Wakanda." She wore the pride of Wakanda like a badge. "Osborn knows his stuff."

"Indeed." Okoye took a another deep sip. "Directly imported. Excellent."

"Excellent wine for an excellent man."

"Stop it, you'll make me blush." He was smiling a bit shyly. He was glad to be so cared for, even without his powers or identity as Spider-Man. It was ...nice. It wasn't heroic. It just was. They liked him for him.

"So how are you?" Shuri asked. "Really? I hope nothing bad happened. I myself was back in Wakanda. I saw the footage though, it wasn't pretty."

Felix hesitated for a second before answering. "I'm good—or, well, as good as I can be after a disaster. My apartment area was destroyed so I had to move."

"Oh, well, if you need a place—"

"Don't worry, it's a big place. A mansion, actually. I was meaning to move in anyway. It's isolated so the monster never got to it."

"That's good," said Okoye. "If you ever need anything, do tell the princess."

"Hey, you can say that for me!" Shuri was about to say something else when the energy of the deck subtly shifted. Footsteps that Shuri and Okoye seemed to recognize but Felix didn't. 

Even Felix felt it before he saw it—the presence of someone important stepping into the space.

King T'Challa.

Felix had seen pictures, of course, but seeing him in person was an entirely different experience. Well, not that he hadn't seen him in person before either but like...he was the type to be always bedazzle.

Dressed in a flawlessly tailored white suit, his posture exuded authority without arrogance. His sharp, intelligent gaze landed on his sister and then Felix.

Shuri sighed. "Dammit," she mumbled.

T'Challa walked and stopped in front of Felix. There was a long, assessing silence before the King finally spoke.

"You are Felix Faeth."

It wasn't a question.

Felix nodded. "That's me."

T'Challa studied him for another moment before extending a hand. "We've met once before, have we not?"

Felix took it. They had; twice, as a matter of fact. Face to face at the Empire State Building and briefly during the World Security Council Facetime. "Twice, actually."

"I am glad to put a stronger face to it then," T'Challa said smoothly. "Shuri mentioned you."

"I hope it was all praise."

"It was." 

"Mr. Osborn will be presenting his new Arc Reactor tonight. Will you be there on the podium?"

Honestly? He didn't know. "I'll leave it as a surprise," Felix said with an Oscor worthy amount of coyness. At this point, his acting really was that good.

"Haha, excellent." T'Challa heard his name being called. "Excuse me, I have to go. Shuri, you too."

"Really?" He gave a look and the young princess sighed. "Fine. See ya, Felix."

Felix gave a nod and off the Wakandan royalty went. Damn, that went better than expected. First thing was first though, go to the bathroom and hack into some phones while on the toilet. 

***

Doing too much telepathy while not having his old powers sometimes hurt his head. As for why he had not yet got his powers back, he was waiting for Norman's brainscan. Once Felix passed that and cleared himself of any suspicion of being Spider-Man, it was back to being at peak physical performance. 

'Hm. Not too many phones came onboard. Must be a security policy. Still, it's not too bad. I got enough info for Herbie to find patterns and invest international stocks in.'

According to his calculations, in some months, he would be a billionaire. The moment Felix actually got out of the toilet stall, phone in his pocket and smiling confidently...

'Dammit, now I ACTUALLY have to go to the bathroom.' 

Stupid bladder. Not having problems made him feel so less in control of himself. From the big things like the lack of perfect balance to the small things like stomach grumbles or a tight bladder. Those sensations simply didn't exist for him once Extremis introduced itself into him. 

He sighed, went to the urinal, unzipped his pants, and did his business. 

This was supposed to be a quick thing, nothing important. 

Another man entered the bathroom. Okay, whatever. Said man broke the tenant rule of bathroom etiquette and chose to step up to the urinal beside him. Felix tried not to think much of it at first. Basic restroom etiquette—eyes forward, do your thing, get out.

"God damn. No wonder he said that."

Felix blinked.

Slowly, very slowly, he turned his head just enough to glance at the man standing next to him.

Tall. Muscular. Braided hair, sharp features, gold grill flashing between his lips.

Felix's mind immediately processed the face.

Erik Killmonger.

A name whispered in mercenary circles. A man with a body count that didn't need inflation. Ruthless. Intelligent. Deadly. He was among those in the list of potential assassins. Felix kept silent. There was no need to worry. Captain America had said she was watching from a distance and in this case, it was in the toilet stall right next to the one he had been in.

Killmonger smirked, eyes still firmly ahead as he continued his own business. "Seriously, what the hell did you do to Stark?"

Felix frowned. At this point, he elected to respond. "Stark?"

Killmonger chuckled. "Yeah. Dude was pissed. Soon as you got on this boat, he saw you and immediately pointed like you stole his girl or some shit."

Felix blinked. "I—didn't steal Stark's girl."

Kinda.

Maria was definitely not his girl, although…wait. Since he went from a normal Oscorp worker to hanging out with kings and queens on a yacht, his brow was raised very high.

"Dammit. So he knows?"

Killmonger turned his head over. "So it was you?"

Felix sighed. "Yeah. It was me. I invented the cure."

Anthony Stark was not a stupid man. An Oscorp employee. A smart young man. Invited by Osborn of all people to be on this yacht specifically where net worths were at least half a billion? No way Felix was rich so it had to be that. He had to be the real brains behind the operation. As a rich man and CEO, he knew how things worked.

Killmonger let out a low hum, zipping up his pants. "Well, damn. I appreciate that. On a personal note, for saving New York. And on a professional note—" he grinned, flashing his gold grill, "—for being honest. Makes my job hell of a lot easier." He reached for the sink, washing his hands, and just like that, he was gone.

Felix sighed, zipping up and shaking his head. He took his sweet time drying his heads

When he walked out of the bathroom twenty seconds after, he saw a black dress, big tits, and redhead.

She flashed him a beautiful smile. "Hi, Felix."

Czarina.