16641/Uncle Sam wants you, even if you're a Canadian who has overstayed his visa

Uncle Sam wants you, even if you're a Canadian who has overstayed his visa
Date of Scene:	08 December 2024
Location:	Triskelion, Bridge Entrance
Synopsis:	It's okay Mr. Stark, Natasha will handle Deadpool personally.
Cast of Characters:	Deadpool, Black Widow (Romanoff)

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Deadpool has posed:
Deadpool cruised up to the security gate of the Triskelion on his Vespa Primavera, the engine purring like a satisfied cat as it rolled to a stop. Sitting behind him was Dogpool, wearing a dog-sized helmet that bobbed as the scooter came to rest. The guard, a young man with an expression of polite confusion, leaned forward from his post and adjusted his sunglasses.

"Um... can I help you?" the guard asked, eyeing Deadpool and then Dogpool, who sat with an adorably stoic look.

"Hey there, shiny metal man!" Deadpool chirped, giving a finger gun. "I'm here for a little pow-wow with your recruitment specialist. I'm looking to be all I can be."

The guard blinked. "You can't mean S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"Bingo!" Deadpool said, doing a little sitting victory dance on his Vespa. Dogpool's helmet tilted with the movement, and she let out a small, confused yip.

The guard cleared his throat, clearly torn between following protocol and his desire to see if Deadpool's antics were some elaborate joke. "I... I don't think you're on the list... sir."

"Eh, lists are for losers," Deadpool said. "And for losers who forget their own names. But tell you what, why don't you just tell 'em Wade Wilson is here and, y'know, put in a good word for me, since we're so close... agent Stark."

Dogpool barked, as if to second the motion.

The guard looked at Deadpool, then at Dogpool, then at the absurdly tiny helmet, and sighed. "Hold on. I'll radio up."

Deadpool leaned back, hands behind his head as he smirked at the guard's hesitation. "And while we're waiting, do you have a little treat for my partner here? She's a growing girl. Needs her fuel. And by 'fuel,' I mean dog biscuits. Not rocket fuel."

A hesitant chuckle escaped the guard as he raised the radio to his mouth. For the first time that day, he felt like maybe - just maybe - this wouldn't be the weirdest thing to happen at the Triskelion.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
Which only showed how little he knew about Wade Wilson, aka Deadpool. For him to think this would be anything even close to routine.

The call came in and the name turned on all the bright red highlights and alarm bells on the systems when it was run. Then the calls began fast and furious as the security at the security desk waited for their higher ups to make a decision. The instructions said do not engage without consulting with a level six agent or higher.

And there was one person that the computer had set up to flag if that specific man ever approached a SHIELD base. Any SHIELD base. Natasha was in a briefing with Alpha Squad, listening to the potential threat they would be facing. She would be an agent on the ground available to back them up, should it become necessary. Then her phone vibrated. She withdrew it from her pocket and examined it only to see that bright red text with the warning symbols and an image of Deadpool outside the front gates on his Vespa. Then it blipped to Dogpool with a 'subject unknown' notification before going back to bright red banners around Deadpool.
Shehe tapped a few buttons that she would respond, saving others the trouble. Because as entertaining as it might be to watch that video later with them trying to deter Wade, she wasn't sure if he was in one of his good or bad moments. If it was a bad one, they might have agents with leg shots (since it wouldn't kill them) as he tried to make his way inside and it'd just escalate from there. Or so she feared.

It was about five minutes later that the sound of a motorcycle could be heard approaching. Natasha pulled up on the matte black machine with not a hint of chrome showing. Better for stealth missions, even if it was currently daylight. She stopped the bike, pushed down the kickstand, and stepped off to approach the gate with the waiting visitors and security guard. "Wade. How may we assist you today?"

Deadpool has posed:
Agent Mike Stark's radio crackled to life, and a clipped voice came through, barely audible.

"Is he still out there?"

Mike's eyes widened, and he covered his mouth, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Affirmative. He's still here, ma'am. And he brought - uh - a dog."

"Do not engage unless given explicit orders," came a steely voice.

The words barely registered with Deadpool, who was too busy nudging Dogpool in the ribs, a playful grin on her face. "Look at you, princess. You're so famous, even S.H.I.E.L.D. knows your name. They just don't know what to do with your good looks. I should charge them for the exposure."

Dogpool responded with a small yip and looked at Deadpool with a mixture of loyalty and mild confusion.

The sound of Natasha's engine approaching caused a shift in atmosphere. It was like the world around them recognized her presence and held its breath.

The moment Natasha's sleek black motorcycle roared up to the gate, Deadpool's head perked up. He was still leaning back on his Vespa, but the posture shifted as he squinted at the new arrival.

"Who's this, Agent Stark? Your backup? 'Cause that," Deadpool said, gesturing at Natasha's ride, "is one hell of a statement. I mean, I'm impressed, and I'm not easily impressed. Just ask the guy who tried to sell me an inflatable jet ski. Spoiler alert: it didn't work."

Mike Stark's jaw dropped. It wasn't the bike that made him pause, it was the woman on it. Her presence was magnetic, dangerous, and yet undeniably graceful. Mike couldn't help but note the way she surveyed the situation, eyes sharp and assessing.

"Uh, sir?" Mike stammered, trying to tear his eyes away from Natasha to focus on Deadpool. "I'm... I'm still waiting for orders."

Deadpool gave a gloved thumbs up and winked through his mask at the guard. "Good call, Stark. I like your instincts, kid. Keep it up and you'll be in Winterfell before long. Me? I'm just here to chat. No need to lock down the whole building, okay? I promise not to do anything... too crazy." He tilted his head and shot a glance at Dogpool, who sat patiently beside him, looking slightly puzzled at the growing attention.

"Too crazy? You're Deadpool," Mike muttered, half under his breath, and Deadpool caught it.

"Oh, so you do know me! See, Agent Stark, we're practically best friends already. Why, just last Tuesday, I found out I have an actual collection of nicknames that I never even knew about. 'the Wolf of Rice Wine', 'Regenerating Degenerate,' 'That Annoying Red Suit Guy' - that last one really stings, by the way."

Deadpool, eyes twinkling with mischief, leaned forward with a playful salute. "Well, well, if it isn't the Black Widow herself. I gotta say, Stark, you could learn a thing or two from her. And that's coming from me, who once tried to convince a security guard that I was his long-lost cousin just to get past a gate."

Mike wasn't sure whether to be amused or terrified.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"The sad thing is it worked, if I remember the story correctly. Or are you changing it randomly for better punchlines?" Natasha asked in genuine curiosity. She gave a nod to Agent Stark in acknowledgement, a brief focus of her eyes on her fellow agent. "I'll take it from here. You can return to your post." Which was probably all of five feet away but it let him know he didn't have to deal with this anymore. It probably was above his paygrade any how.

With that, Natasha walked closer to the Vespa and, in process, to the man on it. Then her hand moved out to give a slow pet...to Dogpool. "Hello, Mary Puppins. Is he treating you properly?" she asked the pup before focusing on Wade again. She was dressed in her SHIELD uniform, including holsters on both sides and Glocks in them.

"I am pretty sure that Annoying Red Suit Guy came from T-Ray to be honest with you. At least, when he isn't using words that can't be used in front of his mother or else he faces her wrath." That sounded terrifying to those that knew the reality of T-Ray. If he was scared of his mother, she had to be quite the imposing woman.

Hopefully Mike had no idea what they were talking about.

"You just coming to hang out, like the airport? Or is there a purpose to your visit here today?" she asked Wade curiously.

Deadpool has posed:
Dogpool leaned into Natasha's slow, careful petting, her tail wagging with delight. The small, dog-sized motorcycle helmet she wore was scuffed, evidence of countless adventures and near-misses, but it seemed well-loved, a symbol of how much she'd been spoiled. The faint, content rumble of her little, panting breaths said it all: life was good for the tiny bundle of joy. It even looked like she might have put on a bit of weight, an unavoidable consequence of being showered with treats and affection.

Deadpool slipped off his Vespa with all the flourish of a stage performer. He adjusted the fit of his mask and stood at attention, the way an experienced soldier might when facing someone of higher rank. The playful smirk on his mask was a little quieter now, a touch of seriousness settling in as he brought his hand up to his brow in a salute that spoke of training and discipline.

"Master Warrant Officer Wade W. Wilson, reporting for duty, ma'am," he said. It was almost impossible to tell if he was mocking the gesture or not. The slight flicker of his eyes covers suggested that, for the briefest of moments, Deadpool was serious. He held the position until Natasha signaled for him to relax. The tension in his shoulders faded, and a wicked grin returned to his face.

"I wish to be all I can be, Black Widow. I want to be one of the good guys. I have a very particular set of skills, skills I've acquired over a long and illustrious career. Skills that make me a nightmare for the bad people." His voice dropped, the familiar Deadpool cadence almost giving way to something deeper, something resembling the ghost of earnestness. For a second, there was a flicker of sincerity in those white eye covers of his. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by a smirk and the rhythmic tapping of his boot against the pavement.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"All that you can be?"

Natasha stared at Wade for long moments. He was having one of his good days it seemed. There were those moments of sanity in there from time to time. But she knew Wade, better than most. He was volatile and things could change in an instant with him.

Yet she also knew that deep inside that insanity was a man struggling with a lot of personal demons. A man who, though his methods might be unconventional, was on the side of the angels. He might not be a full hero but he certainly wasn't a villain either. He was firmly in between, but closer to the good than the bad.

"You do have those skills. But you also have a tendency to..." She considered her words a moment. "Not play well with others. Members of SHIELD have to work with teammates, joint missions, that sort of thing. While I do believe you could handle singular missions, I'm not sure that you can be team player, as the saying goes."

She watched him long moments, green eyes taking in the mask, the smirk and the tapping foot having taken back as that was his fall back. His position of safety was using his mouth and putting up that barrier. Few would know it. Only their past had taught her there was more to this merc deep down than he liked to present.

"I may be able to see about bringing you in as a contractor but I'm not sure that becoming a full agent would be in the cards unless we saw enough to prove you can be a good teammate and reliable. Which requires following orders and not just doing what comes to mind in the moment."

Deadpool has posed:
Wade's smirk faltered, the familiar edge of his confidence momentarily dimming as Natasha's words registered. Not play well with others. It stung, even if he knew it was true. The truth was, he didn't do well with rules, and following orders felt like suffocating in a suit that was always two sizes too tight. Women made it look so easy. But the way she said it, like she was sizing him up for a future that might or might not come, made something inside him twist uncomfortably. He wasn't used to this kind of scrutiny, not from her, not from anyone who wasn't just looking to take him down.

He glanced at Dogpool, who seemed to sense the shift and bumped her snout against his leg. The tiny helmet sat askew, a silent reminder that she was the only thing keeping him grounded in moments like this, where even a sliver of doubt crept in. If he was being honest, he wasn't just here to make S.H.I.E.L.D.'s roster. He was here because he wanted to prove something to himself, something he didn't admit even to his own reflection: that he could be more than the joke, more than the monster, more than the wildcard.

The tap of his boot against the pavement picked up rhythm, masking the jittery churn in his chest. He tried to piece together a reply that wouldn't make him sound like the clown he was known to be. "So, not full agent, but maybe... a contractor," he said, voice low and a little hoarse. The idea was strange, both appealing and terrifying. He' never had a clear path in life, not with his past and not with the future stretching out uncertain before him. But hearing her say that, hearing her talk about reliable, made the possibility glimmer in his mind like a distant star he might actually try to reach.

"What's the medical plan like?"

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
That earned an actual snort of amusement from Natasha. Which might not be expected, and be utterly unexpected by someone like Agent Stark. "I'm pretty sure that you don't need medical, last I checked. It also isn't offered to contractors. Though we might be able to scrounge up some pet insurance perhaps?"

As she said it, she reached out to adjust Dogpool's helmet so it was sitting correctly atop her head again. The eyes behind the goggles seemed far too large but she knew it was an effect of the lenses and not the dog's actual eyes. It was quite the visual though, in combination with that tongue that always seemed to be lolling out the side of her mouth when she wasn't actively licking her human, Wade.

"And who knows what the future can hold once you've showed your meddle to SHIELD." A glance at him followed by a softer smile. "I know you have it in you. Once you figure that out yourself, all the better."

Deadpool has posed:
Wade's lips twitched upward at Natasha's remark, a genuine laugh breaking through the carefully constructed armor of his smirk. It wasn't the kind of humor he was used to, the cheap one-liners or absurd quips, but something in her delivery hit the mark. The thought of Dogpool in 'pet insurance' had him grinning like an idiot, a rare moment in the middle of a conversation that usually would have had him making an escape plan by now. Maybe there was a chance, after all.

He watched as Natasha adjusted Dogpool's helmet, and a small, wistful feeling tugged at him. She was careful with her touch, the kind of tender that didn't match the brutal world she was part of. When Dogpool's tail started wagging furiously and she leapt up, landing in Natasha's arms with a chorus of excited barks, Wade felt an unexpected warmth spread through him. Dogpool's affection was chaotic, without boundaries or strategy, just pure, unfiltered trust. If she could trust Natasha, maybe he could too.

The weight of Natasha's words settled in his chest, sparking something that was both thrilling and terrifying. The idea of proving himself, of showing S.H.I.E.L.D. that he had more to offer than just a barrage of jokes and reckless stunts, wasn't one he'd considered. But now that she mentioned it, he couldn't help but think of what that might mean. A new purpose, something beyond the next bounty or the next absurd escapade. Wade straightened, pushing past the doubts that prickled at the edge of his thoughts. "So, where do I sign?" he asked, the question simple but loaded with more hope than he'd ever admit.