Sounds of distress had alerted Matt from nine blocks away, but he hadn't expected to find a group of criminals. Between the smell of the fabric, disposed weapons and gear, and the particular curses, he realized someone else was out there on his patrol doing all the hard work.
That annoyed Matt. Christmas was never his favorite time of year and hadn't been for a long time, despite dinner with the Nelson family and the embarrassing bounty of gifts from those clients who had been too financially strapped to pay for his legal services. He couldn't turn down their generosity, even though he knew what it had cost them.
And now people who he would have liked to bruise and gift wrap for the police were already down and out for the count.
The strained breathing and soft almost non-existent sounds of the hero responsible did make Matt raise an eyebrow under his cowl. Felicia Hardy.
Not that she knew he knew she was the Black Cat.
So Parker wasn't mistaken. She had turned over a new leaf. It seemed like it was taking its toll too. He knew that tune all too well.
As her strained breathing zeroed in to the proper rooftop, Matt vaulted from the neighboring buildings. He was quick, and graceful, but he never quite mastered the stealthy entrance. Especially for someone trained to notice. "Black Cat," he pronounced her name in the same way he might have brought attention to one of Foggy's more putrid colognes. "Nice job with the car jackers. You in some kind of new costumed work release program?"