16669/Por una Cabeza

Por una Cabeza
Date of Scene:	31 December 2024
Location:	Parrington Mansion, East Side
Synopsis:	Wade and Natasha infiltrate a high-society party.
Cast of Characters:	Deadpool, Black Widow (Romanoff)

---

Deadpool has posed:
Wilson slipped into the icy waters of the lake, the cold seeping against his wetsuit, but his focus remained sharp. He could see only a few feet ahead in the murky water, but the silvery glint of the submerged grates was unmistakable. The air in his breather was cold, the steady hiss of his exhalation mixing with the muffled sound of water rushing past his ears.

His gloved hands gripped the small acetylene torch tightly, the delicate blue flame cutting through the murk as he aimed it at the grates. The beam of heat ate into the metal, as the current tugged at his body as he kept his position steady.

Minutes felt like hours. As the metal slowly gave way, the grates loosened and fell away, a small victory. Wilson pushed himself forward. The torch, now cool, was left to sink into the water as he emerged from the frozen lake, his breath shallow as he pulled himself onto the snow-covered shore.

With a swift motion, Wilson stripped off the wetsuit, revealing a perfectly fitted black tuxedo beneath, its sharp lines undisturbed by the cold. He adjusted his cuffs and moved with purpose, blending into the night.

Slipping through the back entrance, he found himself in the kitchen. The scent of fresh pastries and simmering sauces filled the air. He cast a quick glance at the food, and then turned to the chefs, speaking in flawless French: "Un menu exquis, messieurs. Vous avez fait honneur a la cuisine locale."

With a nod, he moved deeper into the estate, his eyes now set on the party. The chatter and clinking of glasses grew louder as he stepped into the opulent ballroom, the perfect blend of elegance and danger.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
It was one of those affairs full of powerful people rubbing elbows with one another. The air was high society but the people that attended were not the most moral. Lots of people who had their hands in every dirty business out there, from extortion to trafficking of various goods. Some of those goods even were alive. But it was where the target was hidden, upstairs somewhere. It was just a matter of getting there.

Natasha was already inside and standing, admiring a bit of art on one of the walls as the small orchestral group played nearby. She was sipping from a flute of champagne, glancing around at those closest to her in the hopes of spotting her partner for this escapade.

While she didn't look like herself, he did know what face she would have on. The black wig, dark brown contacts (with retinal scan technology that would allow her to get past the scanner upstairs), and the facemesh mask that made her look like a lovely young woman. Just not like Natasha Romanoff. That would've been a disaster in this company. She was wearing a full-length, formal black dress, with a v-neck and a slit from the lower hem to her upper thigh on the left side. She did have a small purse with her, with a silver chain for a strap, though this was so small it had to be more for show than function.

The question on Natasha's mind at the moment though? Where the hell was Wade? He should've been with her when she arrived but instead she had entered the party alone.

Deadpool has posed:
Natasha Romanoff was a highly decorated S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, the Black Widow, a former member of the K.G.B., and who knows what else? She was an expert at wigs, contacts, makeup, facemesh masks, body language, and everything else you might want in an infiltration agent.

Wade Wilson was another thing entirely. The jury was still out on whether or not he was as crazy as he appeared to be on the surface. The man did everything wrong, habitually, and still managed a remarkably high success rate. They say it's better to be lucky than good, but nobody was that lucky. It defied all logic. So, was there a method to his madness?

Despite S.H.I.E.L.D. having secured invitations, Wade had True Lies'ed his way in, mimicking the classic Arnold Schwarzenegger entrance. And he looked rather dashing, when he finally showed. The tuxedo was perfectly tailored, crisp and sharp, as Mythbusters had proven so many years ago. But why did he do that?

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the infamous Natalie Rushman," Wade Wilson's voice rang out, smooth but with a playful edge. "I must admit, I've always had a thing for women who can take dictation... and look damn good while doing it."

He leaned in slightly, his grin widening beneath the facemesh, which now made him look startlingly like Patrick Schwarzenegger, well, at least that part of his disguise was working.

He stood at her side, close enough to whisper without touching, but far enough to keep things intriguingly elusive. "You know, between your... skills and my... 'charm,' I think we could be one hell of a team. What do you say, Brown? Shall we make some 'chaos' together?" Wade's smile was devilishly suggestive as his eyes twinkled with mischief.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"Dictation? How very pre-1980 of you," came the murmured reply from the lovely petite woman before him. Though they were invited as a couple so she wasn't going to pretend she didn't know him.

She snagged a flute of champagne from a passing server's tray then offered it to him. "I think the purpose is not to create chaos. Just blend in and eventually make our way upstairs." She glanced around and was sure no one was in listening range yet again. Their goal was a safe upstairs in an office. They'd been given full blueprints of the house and knew every detail, including those that had been added by the newest owner that hadn't been on the blueprints when the mansion was built. It had taken a few months of undercover work combined with confidential informants.

"You do look quite dashing in a tuxedo, if no one has ever told you that." Then a little tilt of her head. "Brown? Is that a reference I should know?"

Deadpool has posed:
Wade accepted the flute of champagne from Natasha with a gracious nod, keeping his grin under control for once. He was being unusually calm, and for a split second, he actually seemed like he was just a guy in a tuxedo at a fancy party.

"Thank you," he said, sipping the champagne like a man who'd been to at least one high society event in his life. "I don't get compliments on the tux too often, but I'll take it." He paused, giving her a once-over with a touch of genuine appreciation. "And that dress? Wow. You could light up a whole city block in that thing."

He leaned in just enough to keep his voice low, but warm. "Brunettes aren't exactly my usual type, but I have to admit, I'm enjoying the change. Guess I'll need some time to come up with the perfect pet name for you. 'Brown' isn't cutting it, huh?"

The tango music started to raise, its rhythm cutting through the air, and Wade's mind shifted. He noticed a guard's glance towards them, his posture stiff. Wade had been in enough situations to know that kind of stare, it was either a 'what the hell are you two up to', 'I'm about to call you out', or 'those chili cheese dogs aren't sitting right' look.

"Speaking of 'pet names', how about we leave the talking for a bit and let the tango do the talking instead?" He extended a hand to her with an exaggerated flourish. "I think it's time for us to cut a rug, beautiful. And don't worry about the eyes on us. I'm good at giving them something to look at."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"Well you are much prettier than I am so I can believe that," Natasha said. After all, he'd gone for the prettier mask. While hers was what might be considered attractive, she was still more like the girl next door than a bombshell type. Well, except the outfit and body itself. There she did kind of fit the mold of bombshell. But the face she'd gone for understated but cute.

She put her champagne aside and then slipped her arm through his to allow him to guide her out to the floor then stepped into position. The earpiece was filled with sudden chatter from their backup team, discussing that they should stay on target and get back to the mission.

"As someone once told me," she murmured to Wade as she rested her hand on his shoulder, her other hand grasped in his, prepared to move into the dance. At least it was a classical tango as opposed to Argentine. That would be pulling far too much attention to them, no doubt.

Deadpool has posed:
Wade chuckled at her comment, the playful edge never leaving his voice. "Well, that's one way to put it," he said, leading her onto the dance floor with a confident ease. He couldn't help but give her an approving glance as she fell into place beside him, her posture poised, but there was that familiar intensity in her eyes. It was one of the things he liked about her, always mission first, even in a tango.

He heard the chatter in the earpiece, but for the moment, he tuned it out. They had a job to do, sure, but right now? Right now, it was all about dancing. The mission could wait a few minutes.

"As someone once told you, huh?" Wade gave a small smile as he took his position, one hand resting lightly on her waist, the other holding her hand firmly. "I'm guessing it wasn't the same someone who said 'Don't dance too close'?"

His feet moved with the rhythm, guiding her in the tango, slow but purposeful. His steps were confident, his posture casual yet precise, never over-exaggerated, just enough to blend in with the rest of the party.

"Because, just so you know, 'close' is kinda my thing." He winked, guiding her through the next step. The tango was easy enough to pull off without raising alarms, just the right balance of intimacy and distance to look natural.

"So, are we pretending this is just a dance, or do we have some sort of 'deep conversation' to weave in there?" He asked as his eyes flickered over to the guards. A few steps more and the guards lost interest.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"Close is required for a proper tango. At least from what I've been taught." And she had been taught professionally. Ballet wasn't the only thing the Red Room trained their agents in. After all, they had to fit into any situation and thus they were even taught ballroom dancing. At least, back in her time. Nowadays? She was quite sure they were not from the few she had seen out and about in the last few decades. It was a lost art form for the current spies.

She let him lead, as one should. Certainly she could lead but if she had a partner who could, she would follow. It was traditional, not a statement of any deeper thing that people might read into it. One had to lead and one follow in a dance or it could become a complete mess. It could even switch during a dance but there was always a cooperation to it, a trading of 'power' so to speak, throughout.

"But what I meant to say before I got distracted was As someone once told me, there is always time for a tango."

They weren't doing anything too wild or outstanding to draw attention, unlike in the movie that he loved so much. Thankfully, she had indeed seen True Lies in her lifetime. After all, it was the espionage genre, even if done for comedic purposes. Though more action but there were the elements of espionage and those she did like to watch. If only just to laugh at them.

Deadpool has posed:
Wade couldn't help the grin creeping back onto his face. He slid his hand to Natasha's waist, pulling her just a bit closer, feeling the warmth of her body against his.

Her words about tango? Well, they were true enough, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to push things just a little bit further.

His steps were slow, deliberate, matching the rhythm of the music, but his mind was elsewhere. Her hand in his, fingers delicate but firm, her touch light on his shoulder. Her posture was perfect, and for just a moment, he allowed himself to appreciate how she moved in his arms.

"You are magnificent," Wade murmured, his voice low, his breath close to her ear as they moved. He could feel her pulse beneath his hand on her waist. It was steady, but maybe a little faster than usual. She wasn't immune to this, was she?

His hand shifted slightly, his thumb brushing the curve of her waist as they circled together. There was something about being this close, the perfect mix of tension and ease. A few more steps like this, and he might forget they're even on a mission.

He kept his gaze fixed ahead, but his attention was fully on her. The way she moved, the way she let him lead, every step was an invitation.

He spun her lightly, just enough to see the way her dress caught the light, a sharp contrast to the elegant shadows of the ballroom. Her grace was undeniable. He stepped in close again, his body mere inches from hers, his hand tracing the line of her spine as he guided her through the dance.

"So, tell me, Nat," he said, voice teasing but carrying a hint of something more, "when's the last time you really let yourself dance?" He gave her a look, playful but with a touch of challenge. "Or are you too busy being all... composed and professional for that?"

The music swirled around them, but Wade was too focused on the woman in his arms to care about the rest of the room.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
While her pulse might have moved faster, it was likely due to the dance. Though it was lovely and enjoyable, bringing back memories of a time past. There was physical exertion involved in a dance after all.

She considered his question and her eyes dropped a moment as she fished for the information she sought. Then she looked to the mask he wore, the facemesh one--not his usual one, focusing in his eyes. "Personally? I dance quite often. But dancing with someone else?" A quick calculation. "Over a month." Then a faint smile. "It is nice though. Even though we probably should get back to the business at hand. After the song ends, of course," she added with a little chuckle.

Because the song would be coming to an end and as such, she would be needing to find a way upstairs. Shouldn't be too difficult. The upstairs was not off limits. They could go up there at any point. Just getting to the actual safe they needed access to would be trickier.

Had it been over a month ago? She had to consider that. Late October when Alexander had gone on his way to Greece, to help his father with their familial situation. And she hadn't heard from him since. Admittedly, she knew that he likely wasn't even on this plane of existence. Not like he could be reached by cellphone where he was at. But still, she had hoped he would. Yet, nothing. And she couldn't help a bit of a feeling in the pit of her stomach. She tried to ignore it. Focus on the work.

Deadpool has posed:
Wade's grin lingered, satisfied with the way the dance was flowing, the smooth rhythm of their steps making it feel effortless. There was something magnetic about the way she moved, something that made him focus just a little longer than he should. She was good at keeping her emotions locked up tight, but he could read between the lines. Maybe she was enjoying this more than she was letting on. He could respect that. As the music began to wind down, he gave her one last spin, his hand gently guiding her back into position. The tango had its hold on them both, but that moment was coming to an end.

The music shifted, and with it, so did the mood. Wade's expression softened, the playful edge never fully gone, but easing back. He released Natasha's hand and stepped back slightly, just enough to give her space to breathe. "Well, that was a nice distraction," he said, his voice carrying the usual mischievous tone. "But you're right, business first, fun later." He wasn't exactly eager to leave the floor, but he'd learned the hard way to stay focused. They needed to get upstairs, find the safe, and get out without anyone catching onto their real purpose. It was just a matter of finding the right moment.

He watched Natasha slip away from him gracefully; her movements still fluid, like a shadow blending into the crowd. He gave a quick nod, sliding back toward the bar and grabbing a glass of water. A few deep swallows were all he needed to clear his head. Once they had taken a moment to rest, they would slip upstairs, using the distractions of the party to their advantage.