Author's note: Okay, I'm super proud of this chapter, so please read and review! A thanks to everyone who's followed, favorite, or even just read my story. I love you guys, I really do!

A few hours and a helicopter later, there we were. Natasha and I, standing in the middle of Queens, New York. "Wow." I muttered to myself. "This place is big."

"Yeah. Which will make finding Charlotte that much harder." Natasha was wearing street clothes today, which was a sight in itself. Black sandals, a black sundress, a black handbag, and these big sunglasses that took up about half her face. The sundress had a rather, erm, low neckline I was finding it hard to avert my eyes from. Her wrist was adorned with what looked like a pretty bit of jewelry, but was actually a mini-GPS. It was leading us to the spot Stark had tracked Charlotte to. I put my hand to my collar, smiling. It had been disabled for the trip. This was to be my first combat mission since I had arrived at the headquarters, and I was eagerly awaiting my chance to take out my frustrations on Charlotte and her goons.

"Never been to New York before." I mused. "You think I'll get to see the Empire State building? The Statue of Liberty?"

"Those are both in Manhattan. We're in Queens."

"Oooh, can we see the naked cowboy?" I said enthusiastically. She just looked at me sideways.

"No. No we can't. And I would focus less on tourism and more on blending in." She said, looking me critically up and down. I could only assume she was referring to my piercings. And my outfit, which, to be honest, looked like a gothic thrift-store had thrown up all over me. Big black boots and short black shorts came together to hide all but a little patch of skin near the tops of my thighs. That was safely hidden by some dark pantyhose. I wore a black spaghetti-strap top, and a black leather jacket. There was a chain around my neck with a silver ankh hanging off it. I had even gone so far that day as to don my favorite "Black Pearl" lipstick. I snickered.

"Blending in?" I said. "Look around you! This is New York, baby!" I gestured around me to the many, many people trying their hardest to look unique in exactly the same way as everyone else. Everywhere you looked you could see body piercings, dyed hair, and exaggerated gothic-biker-esque outfits, people with big, black glasses and "ironic" t-shirts, people wearing pajama pants in broad daylight. And at least one guy riding a bike with a five-foot high front wheel. I wish I was kidding.

"I see your point." Natasha admitted reluctantly.

"So. Which way's the bad guy?" She looked at the GPS.

"Fifteen degrees north of here." I looked at her blankly. "That way." She pointed.

"There you go. Now you're speaking my language." We set on our way, trying to navigate the crowd without getting separated.

"Hey." I said. She turned to me.

"Yeah? What is it?"

"Can I ask you something? Why is Rose in the Avengers?" She listened. "I mean, I get Loki. He's the friggin' god of mischief. But Rose is just a normal, human woman. Hell, every time I see her she's in sweats!"

"You didn't know? Rose is the Bad Wolf."

"The what now?"

"The Bad Wolf. She has the power of the universe coursing through her body. She could scatter your atoms to every corner of the dimension if she wanted to." I gulped.

"Well, how the hell did she get like that?" Natasha sighed.

"From what I know, she used to travel through time and space with a man called the Doctor."

"Wait. Time?"

"Yes." She left it at that. "Something happened, and she gained the power of the universe itself."

"Wow. So… don't get on her bad side?"

"I wouldn't." We walked in silence for a bit.

"I hope there are no hard feelings." She said eventually. I looked at her, questioningly. She continued, still walking. "I am the one who captured you and brought you here. I just hope you don't resent me for it."

"Hard feelings?" I said. "Imagine your entire existence revolves around combat. You've spent your whole life believing you're the best, and there's not a soul in the world who can beat you. Then one day someone comes along and completely dominates you in your own home." We stopped. She braced herself for the inevitable argument. But rather than start a shouting match right then and there, I shut my mouth and kept walking. "Come on. Charlotte won't wait up for us." She caught up to me quickly, and we both kept our eyes on the sidewalk beneath us as we walked. I have to admit… I wasn't actually mad at her. To be honest, I kind of… worshipped her. No one had ever beaten me before Natasha. No-one. But what would she think of me if I just gave up the fight then and there? I have a reputation for holding a mean grudge, and I wasn't about to let that go.

"Wait." Natasha eventually said.

"What is it now?" I asked impatiently.

"The GPS is recalibrating. Hang on." I sighed and leaned against the wall of a coffee place as I waited for her to give the O.K. That's when, for some inexplicable reason, I decided to look up. I saw, in the distance, a red blob swinging through the air between the buildings. I squinted to watch it as it got closer and closer. The red blob became a young, male figure as it zipped over head of us and right over the coffee shop.

"Spiderman?" I muttered. I stood there for a good two milliseconds before curiosity got the best of me. Then I leapt up and scrambled onto the awning of the coffee place and over the building itself.

"Trescott?" I heard Natasha shout. But I was long gone. I hopped from roof to roof, following the red blob I was getting progressively closer to. I smiled to myself. I'm faster than Spiderman! I thought. I was only just starting to get a bit winded when he stopped in front of a bank. The alarm was going off and a bunch of robbers were making off with some bags full of cash. It couldn't have been any more Loony Toons if there were dollar signs painted on the bags. I watched from the roof of the building I was perched on as Spiderman swooped in and webbed one of the guys to the wall. He was just like everyone said; the entire time he fought he was talking incessantly, making bad jokes, and using worse wordplay. In a few minutes he had all three guys webbed to some surface or another, and a note on the ringleader, most likely signed from "Your friendly neighborhood Spiderman" wait a minute… I thought. Three? There were four guys… I heard footsteps to my left, and looked down into the alley below to see one of the robbers running fast away from the scene. I smiled. Looked like Spidey could use some help. I jumped down into the alley, and the guy froze as he heard my boots connect with the pavement.

"It's your lucky day, bub." I said as I approached him, twitching and cracking my knuckles. "I'm out for good behavior." I socked him in the stomach, and he wheezed as he stumbled back. I quickly wrapped my leg around his and pulled his feet out from under him, and he fell to the floor, me holding his arms behind his back. Lessee… what was I supposed to do with him now? Fury would kill me if I finished the job too thoroughly. Luckily the job was done for me. I stepped back fast as a blast of webbing shot at the guy, pinning him to the ground.

"What was that for?" Spiderman said, looking as pissed as a guy behind a mask can. "I could've handled him!"

"You?" I scoffed. "You didn't even notice him!"

"It's vigilantes like you that-" He stopped himself. "Aw, man, I'm starting to sound like Jameson…"

"Just admit it. If I hadn't stepped in, that guy would've gotten away clean." I stepped closer to him, looking him in the… eye? Mask? Whatever.

"Who are you, anyway?!" He asked.

"Wendy Trescott. And I know you. You're the friendly neighborhood Spiderman. What're you doing putting away small-time thieves?"

"That's what I always do." He replied. "It's not always Green Goblin and Doc Oc around here." He paused to scratch his chin. "Come to think of it, who are you?"

"You asked that already."

"No, I mean really. Who are you?"

"I'm here on a mission for S.H.I.E.L.D."

"You work for S.H.I.E.L.D?" He said eagerly. I nodded. Well, it was technically true. "I've been trying to get those guys to notice me for ages! How'd you get in? What's your power?" My power?

"Bad-assery." I replied. And he cracked up.

"I am so going to use that later!" He said. "But seriously, what-" He was interrupted by the electronic jangling of All the Single Ladies. "Oh, hold on." He said, pulling a cell phone out from a hidden pocket in his suit.

"Nice ringtone." I remarked.

"Shut up." He said as he held the phone to his ear.

"WHERE ARE YOU?" He jerked the phone outward at the loud, panicked voice coming from the speaker. "I slave over a hot microwave for minutes on end and you can't even bother to come home in time to eat before it gets cold? I made chimichangas Pete! Chimichangas! For you!"

"Wade, hold on!" the voice at the other end continued to blubber loudly and unintelligibly. "I said hold on, you're on speakerphone!" I watched, fascinated as Spiderman, or "Pete" as he was apparently called, turned the phone off speakerphone and continued to talk to this Wade character.

"Wade, calm down." He said. A pause. "You do know I don't even like chimichangas, right?" He pulled the phone away from his ear again. More unintelligible blubbering. "CALM DOWN!" Pete shouted into the phone. He held it back to his ear. "I don't know, it's just that the way you make them they always turn out so spicy…" Another pause. "You know what a non-sequitur is, right Wade? Never mind. I'll be home in ten minutes, fifteen, tops. Alright. Bye. Love you too." He ended the call and put the phone back into his pocket.

"Pete?" I said questioningly.

"Oh, yeah… I'm going to kill him for that."

"And who's Wade?"

"My boyfriend."

"Wait, so you're…?"

"Yeah. So?"

"Oh, it's just interesting is all." I thought a moment. "What's a chimichanga?"

"A deep-fried burrito." I opened my mouth wide in mock-surprise.

"Oh, food of un-holy foods."

"You don't know the half of it." He said. "Look, I've gotta get home or he'll throw another fit. Nice talking to you. Sort of." I waved, and he shot off into the sky. Something clicked in my head as he was leaving.

"Wait!" I shouted. He leapt back down into the alley.

"What now?"

"By Wade, do you mean Wade Wilson?"

"Yeah. Anything else?" My mouth gaped. This time in actual shock.

"No, I think I'm just about fine.

"Good. Bye again." And he flew off again.

I just met Spiderman. I thought to myself. And, more importantly, I just met Wade Wilson's boyfriend. Wait… what was I doing again?

"Trescott!" I heard Natasha's voice from behind me. I turned, and she was standing in the alley with me, looking… unhappy. It looked like she had almost broken a sweat chasing after me; almost. "Why did you run off like that?" She demanded, trying to keep her cool.

"I just met Spiderman!" I said excitedly. "And get this; he's dating Deadpool!"

"Deadpool? You mean the psychotic mercenary Deadpool?" I nodded. "Ah. I see why you would be excited."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" She started walking back in the direction the GPS was pointing. I followed her without even realizing it.

"I'm only saying it seems like you two would have a lot in common."

"Ha! I wish. Deapool's a fricking legend in my world. This is a man who's an expert in firearms, blade weapons, hand-to-hand, not to mention the whole immortal thing. He's my hero!"

"Your world? I thought you'd left that life behind."

"Hell no. Soon as I get out of this collar, me and Cassie are going on a spree, you'd better believe it."

"I think you mean Cassie and I."

"Frankly, I don't give a crap, Ms. Grammar Nazi."

"I'm Russian, not German." I didn't answer. "And if you want to sound intelligent, then it's Cassie and I. Not me and Cassie." She paused to think. "Who's Cassie, anyway? Girlfriend?" I chuckled.

"Nah, but close. Cassie's my gun, my best gun."

"What kind?"

"44 caliber Magnum revolver. Silver."

"Impressive."

"Hell yeah, it's impressive! She once blew a guy's eye out from half a mile away!"

"Yeah. Right."

"No, really! I can't count how many times she's saved my life."

"You keep referring to her as "she". Talking about her like she's alive."

"How do you know she isn't?" Natasha looked amused.

"You know, romantic relationships with inanimate objects never work out. I should know."

"What!? It's not like I have a crush on her or anything, I just-" I paused. "Wait, what do you mean you should know?"

"We're here." She said. We were standing in front of a dingy old brick hotel. It looked almost like my place back in 'Cisco. "Time to get to work."

"Are you going to answer my question?" I asked as I followed her to the side of the building. She looked at the GPS and then back at the building.

"If I'm reading this thing right, she should be in that room there." She pointed to a window in the corner of the building. She pulled a pair of binoculars out from her handbag, hid herself in the bushes and watched. Just watched. I just stood there, waiting. I looked at the sky. Tapped my foot. Twiddled my thumbs. "What are you doing over there?" She said, lowering the binoculars. I sighed. Then marched over to Natasha and took the binoculars. "What do you think you're doing?" She said as I lifted the binoculars and focused them on the window.

"There's no one in there." I said.

"How would you know?"

"I can't see anyone, Einstein."

"Alright then. What do you propose we do?" I smirked. And headed toward the front door of the building. I walked right in, Natasha following me.

"Excuse me, can I help you?" The man behind the front desk said. I took a second to come up with a story in my head. Then turned, and gave the guy my biggest, friendliest smile.

"It's more what I can do to help you. I'm Miranda Van Hansen, and this is Dorothy Adams. We're here to give you a hand with your little problem."

"What problem? He said, confused, as he stepped out from behind the desk.

"What problem?" I snuck a peek at his nametag. "Why, Joseph, nobody told you? This entire building is infested with chartreuse mold!"

"Ch-chartreuse mold?" Joseph stuttered. "Where did you hear this?"

"Why, your manager!" Natasha stepped in. "He's the one who called us here. Now, I'd clear the building if I were you. Chartreuse mold is highly toxic when inhaled." Ha! Good old Natasha! I didn't think she'd help me on this one, but I was grateful. A lie always seems more credible with a third party to back it up.

"But I haven't noticed anything…"

"Of course not! Look around!" I gestured to the walls. All painted chartreuse. You didn't think I'd just chosen some arbitrary color, did you?"

"Well, why are you two alright?" He asked. Uh oh… think, Wendy, think!

"Spray." I said. "We're both coated in a special spray made from millions of nanites that instantly cling to and neutralize any particles of chartreuse mold they come in contact with." One of my best lies yet. I glanced at Natasha. She nodded, backing up my story.

"Oh…" He said nervously. "Oh dear. Oh, dear." He picked up a phone on the desk and pressed a button near the bottom that said "all rooms". "Attention all guests," He announced. "There is a problem with the hotel, we ask you to evacuate immediately." There was a flood of guests pouring out the doors, and Natasha and I (not "me and Natasha", thank you very much) navigated our way up to Charlotte's room in the chaos. Joseph and the guests were all waiting around outside for a hazmat team to arrive and tell them that there is, in fact, no such thing as chartreuse mold. We had to work fast. Charlotte's room was at the end of the hall on the second floor. Locked, of course. I pulled out a pick and got to work.

"Where did you have that?" Natasha asked. I hesitated.

"You don't want to know." I said as I worked.

"Can you even pick a lock?" I turned briefly, then went back to the lock.

"Honey," I said, my eyes still on the door. "I broke out of Russia's toughest prison singlehandedly. I can pick a frickin' lock. Just give me… there!" The lock clicked, and I opened the door. As I stepped into the room, I heard a faint click, and stepped back fast. Nothing.

"What was that?" Natasha asked.

"I dunno, I…" I stopped. The ground beneath the door looked… funny. I kneeled over and pulled up a piece of carpet, to find a weird little mechanism buried under the floor.

"Aha." I heard Natasha say from behind me, as she picked something off my shoe. I turned to get a good look at it. It was a teeny, blinking little gadget, presumably a GPS chip. I smiled.

"Charlotte, you sneaky bitch." We walked into the room. The bed and all the rest of the furniture were pushed to the sides of the room, and set up in one corner were the desk and office chair we had seen in the transmission. "Well, we know where she's been." I said, looking the desk over for any kind of evidence, clues, hints. Nothing. I doubted there were even any fingerprints on the thing.

"And, where she's going." Natasha said cryptically. I looked up, and arched one eyebrow, twitching.

"Is that so? Enlighten me."

"Think about it. We have a GPS transmitter wired to send information to her. If we can reverse-engineer the thing, then?"
"We can find wherever it's transmitting to!" I said. I had to admit, that was something I'd never thought of.

"Someone's eager." She said, jokingly.

"Screw you." Sometimes, all you need are the classics. She ignored me, putting her finger to the comm in her ear.

"Fury, we've done the job. Where do you want to pick us up?"

Just a few short minutes later, we were back on the helicarrier, standing in front of Fury.

"Well, what did you find?" He asked.

"This." I said triumphantly, holding out the GPS device I had convinced Natasha to let me carry.

"A GPS tracker. Good work."

"We figured we could use it to find her.

"We?" Natasha looked at me. I rolled my eyes.

"Fine, fine. It was her idea."

"I don't care whose idea it was, as long as it works." He pocketed the device.

"Wait, hold on." We heard Stark from the corner. He had his hand up to his ear.

"Whaddyou mean-" He shushed me, cutting me off. I growled, clenching my fists.

"Do I have to turn the collar back on?" Fury asked.

"Can't I just punch him once before you do?" He actually seemed to be thinking about it, but Stark interrupted him.

"That was Jarvis. According to him, there's a tracking signal being transmitted from this room. And not from your little gadget." Fury frowned.

"But what's transmitting it, then?" Stark pointed at Natasha and me.

"They are." Natasha and I looked at each other, confused. He walked over to me and swiped my shoulder with his finger. "Tiny little tracker bugs, smaller than a grain of sand. By now they've woven themselves into every fiber in your outfit. And I'll bet that little gadget of yours is a dud, meant to distract you. This Charlotte woman is good."

"Well, how do we get them off?" Natasha asked.

"Oh, don't worry. I've had run-ins with these things before. I've got a special detergent that'll wash 'em clean out." We both looked at him sideways. "No, seriously. I'm gonna need your clothes, though." He looked at us expectantly.

"We are not stripping in front of you, Stark." I said.

"Ah, well, it was worth a try."

"So, it was all for nothing then?" I said, dismayed that I had wasted a good lie on a dead end.

"Not necessarily." Stark said. "We can use these mini-trackers for the same thing we would've used the big one for. I'll save a few, and bing-bang-boom we've got ourselves a bad guy!" I smiled. Our effort hadn't gone to waste after all!

"I'm going to go get changed." I said. Natasha nodded, following me. As I was walking out the door, something stopped me. Wasn't Fury going to turn the collar back on? I turned.

"Yes, Trescott?" Fury said, looking up from a conversation with one of his agents. I turned back. If he'd forgotten, better not remind him. "Oh yeah; forgot one thing." I heard a click, and my collar buzzed affirmatively.

"Thanks." I said, sarcastically.

"Any day." He replied, smiling. I swear, some days I think Fury's worse than me…

Nah.