AN: I can't believe I keep forgetting to update! I have been rather busy this week and I have exams coming up so I have that to look forward too... Anyway, enjoy this next chapter!

Chapter twelve

"I can't believe you started a fight." I said, shaking my head.

"You didn't have to join in," Deadpool replied.

"Yes, I did, because otherwise you would've killed somebody." I hissed.

Where were we, you ask? We were in the back of a police car, hand cuffed and going to the nearest precinct for processing. We had been arrested for assault.

"He deserved it." Deadpool muttered.

"He might've in your opinion, but you didn't have to start a fight." I said.

"You start fights all the time."

"I finish fights, I don't start them. That's the difference."

"It's still fighting."

I sighed. I was incredibly pissed. I did not want to be arrested tonight, but it turned out that I had to be. We had done the exact opposite of what I wanted to do. The police car pulled up outside the precinct. I looked at my hand cuffed wrists; both I and Deadpool could break them easily. He had indeed suggested it, but I was against it. I didn't want to become a fugitive; it would completely ruin my reputation for being a superhero and my public image. And besides, I could get a phone call. I knew who to call. I knew someone who could get us out of this.

So we were led out of the police car and into the precinct. We were stopped just before going into the holding cell. I could already see that it was filling up with other people in various costumes.

A frankly scary looking Latino woman walked up to us. She wasn't a police officer, she didn't have the uniform, but what she was wearing was black leather. "Put all of the weapons you might have in here." She said and held out a lock box. Deadpool and I looked at each other, I gave him my just o what she says look. We both knew that the box wasn't going to be big enough. Simultaneously we both took the katanas from the straps on our backs and placed them on the box. We did the same things with the guns. I took out the dagger I had hidden in my boot and the one strapped to my thigh and placed it on the growing pile of weapons. Deadpool emptied all of his pouches of grenades and small explosives he had hidden in there.

The woman stared at us. I guess no one had ever had that many weapons before. I hoped they wouldn't put us in prison just for having this stuff.

"I think that's all of it." I said.

"Oh, wait!" Deadpool said and brought a dagger out of... somewhere. I didn't actually know where he had hidden it, and frankly, I didn't want to. "Now that's everything."

The woman looked... well shocked. But that's what you get in America. You could carry any sort of weapon as long as you had a "permit" for it, and luckily for me, I had one. I didn't know about Deadpool though.

We were led into the holding cell which was already crowded full of other costumed offenders. We were made to wait. We were waiting for a long time.

"This is taking forever." I muttered.

"You know for all the crimes and murders I've committed, I've never actually been arrested." Deadpool commented.

"I have," I muttered.

"The arresting you for your own good thing?" Deadpool clarified.

"Yeah," I said. I sighed. I didn't want to wait any longer. I got up and walked to the bars that separated us from the rest of the precinct. "Hey!" I called to the detectives sitting at the desks. I could read the names on their desk from here. Only a few looked up. "Can I have my one phone call please?"

"Why?" One of the detectives asked. "So you can blow up some crazy guy in another precinct?"

"Ha, ha." I said sarcastically. I got the joke, but I didn't find it funny. "First, completely wrong guy, that was the Joker, I'm Deadpool," I started but the detective cut me off.

"I know, it's just that that movie was awesome." He said. It reminded me of something similar to what Deadpool had said before.

"Second, if you're quite finished referencing movies, I'm serious. I need that phone call." I said. My British accent really came through with that statement and I winced. This detective had the same amount of maturity as Deadpool. Knowing Deadpool, I was about to have the piss taken out of me.

"Hey, you're British aren't you?" The detective asked. "What is your mom like the queen or something? Are you like, next in line for the throne?"

"Wow, you're knowledge of the British royal family is disappointing. And actually, I was born in America." I said. I really wasn't sure where. Natasha and Loki had already gone into hiding at that point. "So, can I have my phone call or not?"

"Yeah, sure." He said. He started to get up, "Only if I get to call you Queeny."

"There's no way that's going to happen." I muttered darkly. The detective didn't seem deterred. He came over and unlocked the cell door. Deadpool started to get up. "You stay there." I said and walked out.

"Aw, I wanted to come." He muttered.

The detective lead me over to a basic phone, the detective took my wrist and cuffed it to a bar next the phone on the wall.

I sighed. I started dialling Natasha's number into the key pad. It was the only number I had bothered to memorise. Well that and SHIELD's emergency-it's-the-end-of-the-world number. I held the phone to my ear with the hand that wasn't cuffed to the bar. The phone ringed once, twice, three ti-

"This is agent Natasha Romanoff," I heard my mum say, "Who is this?"

"Hey, mum," I decided to go with mum since I was probably going to be in trouble for this. "It's me, Ink." I said it quietly. I didn't want the nosy detective to know who I was. It would make things awfully messy.

"Ink? What number are you calling from?" She asked.

"Yeah, um, about that," I started. Deadpool came to stand near me on the other side of the bars to listen. I motioned to him not to say anything. "I need you to pick me up."

"What happened?" She asked. "Were you left any where?" She asked it quietly. She knew about my weird friendship with Deadpool.

"No I'm fine." I corrected.

"So where are you?"

"We got arrested!" Deadpool shouted to the phone. I slammed my head lightly on the phone box.

"You got arrested?" Natasha asked angrily.

"Yeah, but that part was Deadpool's fault."

"What were you arrested for?"

"Oh, you know, the usual riff raff. Deadpool said that someone put something in my drink and decided he should die."

"You were arrested for murder?"

"No, no. I leaped into the fight before that happened, but I might've got a kick or a punch at him." I said.

The other side of the line was quiet. "Where are you?"

"99th precinct in Brooklyn." I answered.

"I'll be there as fast as I can." She said.

"Bye," I said just as the line cut out.

"So how'd your talk with the queen go?" The detective asked.

"Surprisingly well." I said. "Oh when she gets here, be sure not to call her Elizabeth, she won't like that."

"Who's Elizabeth?" Both the detective and Deadpool said at the same time.

"The queen, you idiots." I said and walked into the cell when my hand was uncuffed.

I flashed her a grin as Natasha walked up to the front desk. I heard her say, "I'm here for my daughter." She glared at the cell and saw Deadpool. "And the % $£ &# in red," She added.

"Yay, I'm not a psychopath any more!" Deadpool said.

"That's not a good thing." I said.

"It isn't?"

"No."

The same detective from before came over and unlocked the cell door. "Good news Queeny, you and your friend are getting out a little quicker than normal." If he rally was going to call me Queeny then I had to go along with it.

"Thank you." I said with the most over the top posh accent I could muster. "Your services have been most helpful."

"I knew you Brits always talked like that!" The detective whose name I didn't know said. "But before you go we need your names and your pictures for the records."

"That's easy," Deadpool said, popping up behind me. "I'm Deadpool, she's Deadpool. Take a picture and we can go."

"No, we need your real names and pictures without your masks on." The detective corrected.

"Look, me and my friend here are a little camera shy, if it turned out in the press that I had been arrested it wouldn't turn out good." I said.

"Its policy, we have to do it."

"I don't." Deadpool said.

"Look, my mum will explain everything." I said. "But right now we need to go."

"Why can't you explain it?" I was really starting get annoyed with this guy.

"I would if I could, but I can't so I shan't." I said bluntly.

"What?"

"It's kind of confidential ok?" I asked with my voice higher than normal. I gestured to Natasha to come and help. I saw her roll her eyes and get out her SHIELD clearance card. She flashed it at the people at the front and then walked over to us.

"I'm agent Natasha Romanoff, with SHIELD. I'm here to pick up these two." She introduced herself. She showed him the clearance card just to be sure.

The detectives mouth dropped. "Why is SHIELD getting involved in this?"

"I think that's a little above your clearance level don't you think?" She asked him. "This case is now SHIELD's. If you have any complaints, please don't tell them to me."

I smiled. My mum was awesome.

"Come on you two." Natasha led us towards the door.

"Oh wait. Where are our weapons?" Deadpool asked.

Natasha gave me a look that said you went out with weapons?! I shrugged a reply. That was Deadpool as well.

The same Latino detective who had collected our weapons before brought them out in the same container and gave them to Natasha. Natasha gave me an are you serious? look. I shrugged again in reply, then added as a second thought "it was his idea," and pointed at Deadpool.

"What? No it wasn't!" Deadpool said, feigning innocence badly.

Natasha shook her head at us. "Just follow me into my car and I'll drop you off... where ever." She decided. Natasha didn't unlock our hand cuffs as she walked us through the precinct to give all the officers the idea that she was doing her job and not letting a mercenary for hire and her daughter go.

Deadpool and I sat in the back of Natasha's car. It was matt grey with a SHIELD logo on the side. Wow, very inconspicuous, I thought as she threw us the keys for the cuffs. We both scrambled to grab them. After a bit of pushing and shoving I managed to get my cuffs off. I rubbed my wrists. The cuffs had been surprisingly tight.

"So, where to?" Natasha asked us, looking in the rear view mirror.

"Central Park for me." I said. "I want to do that Zombie chase thing that happens at midnight."

"I thought you hated zombies." Natasha commented. Yes, they were the stuff of my nightmares, but instead of admitting that in front of Deadpool I said, "It's all fake. It's being put on by a local theatre company. From what I read, there's going to be lots of running and lots of paint."

"Sounds like my kind of fun." Deadpool said.

"No weapons," I warned. "You can't kill any of them."

"Aww..." He muttered.

"Well, it does sound like fun," Natasha agreed. "Maybe I should get the team to try it out."

I laughed, imagining the scene. The Avengers running away from fake zombies splattered in paint.

Natasha dropped us off at the entrance of Central Park and warned us again about using our weapons in public. I almost didn't trust myself. My survival instincts were in tune with my reflexes. I hated zombies so much that if I had a gun, my survival instincts would tell my reflexes to shoot. I hoped I wouldn't end up hurting anybody tonight, but I couldn't say the same thing for Deadpool. He practically shot everything that moved.

At the gate of Central Park there was a table with a couple of people-one boy, one girl-standing around it. The table had a long poster stuck to it exclaiming large words about the zombie chase but my eyes were too tired to read them. They had a lock box for money and a small stack of fluorescent wrist bands. The two people looked young, but looked like they had been doing this kind of thing for a while. They both had thermos mugs of coffee and had a sleepy look in their eyes.

"Why are we doing this?" Deadpool asked me.

I shrugged. "Honestly, I don't know." I said truthfully. I walked closer to the table. There didn't seem to be any signs of zombies anywhere. "Hey, I heard there was a zombie chase on tonight." I pulled my mask up.

"It's just started, but we welcome any late comers." One of them said. She wasn't wearing a costume and had taken a sip of her coffee. "The 'zombies' know to look for anyone wearing a yellow wrist band. All you need to do is buy a wrist band and make it to five check points around the park and survive the night." The way the girl phrased it made it sound real and scarier.

"Wow, sounds fun." I said.

"What happens if we survive the night?" Deadpool asked.

"You get a ticket to see any of our plays at the Three Clowns Theatre." The guy said.

I saw Deadpool make a face. He wasn't one for theatre. It was a good thing I was then.

"Cool," I said instead. "Two wrist bands then please." I handed over the entry fee as they handed over the fluorescent wrist bands. I handed one to Deadpool and the wrapped the other around my wrist where the zombies could see it. "You ready?" I asked Deadpool.

"I don't know, I don't think I ever am." He replied.

I rolled my eyes and walked deeper into the parks forest.