Sometimes when she was staking out a target, Felicia found herself lost in thoughts about her life. Sitting on rooftops waiting for a sign could be boring, so it was no surprised her mind wandered while she perched there. She often thought about how wasn’t the person people thought her to be; she was sometimes a barrel of contradictions with how she presented herself to the world and who she was beyond the suit, acquired set of skills she’d spent years perfecting, and short stints behind bars. Sometimes, she thought about the person she could be, if she really wanted.
As Black Cat, she flaunted her sexuality, she flirted with the best of them, and she’d dated, but the number of actual sexual partners she’d had was (probably to some) surprisingly limited. That took a certain level of trust and respect. It didn’t mean it had to be all lovey and romantic and true love nonsense, but there had to be something there beyond just a physical desire.
(Maybe, maybe, there was a part of her that liked the whole romance thing and was into that, but she often pushed those thoughts away. Arms-length was good. Arms-length kept her safe. Arms-length also continuously derailed her life and potential happiness and Felicia could earn a golden crown for self-sabotage in that area.)
Her costume was designed to highlight and showcase every curve of her body, but when she was Felicia, when Black Cat had gone to bed and she was living her normal life, Felicia herself didn’t always enjoy that level of attention, particularly from men, and putting on the Black Cat costume was, at times, really embracing a character and playing a part where the lines got blurred between the two of them. Sometimes, she was confused by her own self and actions. A lot of the time, actually. She wasn’t afraid of tight skirts or low cut tops, continuing to flaunt her figure, but it felt different than prowling around for treasure in the middle of the night.
It was chalked up to “daddy issues”, which was a term she absolutely despised (why didn’t guys get their bad behavior chalked up to ‘daddy issues’? Why mock women for the men in their lives having a negative impact on them?). It came back around to her assault, which had reshaped and redefined her life. After months of wallowing, she hadn’t allowed herself to be a victim of it and nearly took matters into her own hands. Fate had a different idea for her and her chance at revenge had been ripped away from her when Ryan died, so she adjusted. Found a new direction.
It took her years to tell anyone about any of that; first Francis, who she had felt a strong sense of pity towards and she had wanted to help save him, and later the same day, Peter because he deserved something resembling the truth from her, if nothing else. After all of those years, after everything she’d done to hurt him and their relationship, that bit of honesty and, to be frank, that tiny show of trust, was the least she could give to him.
At her heart, she was a good person. Sure, she was a cat burglar,and sure, she did questionable things, but that didn’t make her bad. And, okay. Sometimes she was bad, but she didn’t steal from people who didn’t deserve it. It was a personal rule and standard she insisted on holding herself to and sticking with: only steal from those who could afford it. There were lines and boundaries that Felicia stuck to as she slipped into buildings and past security, breaking into safes, and figuring out codes. She loved stupid jokes and puns, Broadway musicals, and pop culture; hell, there were times she referenced things that Peter, of all people, didn't "get".
Good person, questionable actions. Ends justifying the means. It was easy to slip into the role of Black Cat, all sexuality and snark and sass, serving her own personal brand of justice throughout New York, and nabbing a few personal perks on the side, because who was she to live with ‘all work and no play?”. She could come and go as she pleased and live just outside of the law. It did matter that she ultimately sided with the "good guys" when it came down to it and that was what helped her sleep a little better.
And she always snapped out of her thoughts, whether on her own or through other distractions (a Spider or a building clearing and allowing her to make her way in or sometimes both), pushing herself forward.
No use dwelling too much.