(A/N: I saw Deadpool last night... Don't get too excited guys this is only going to be eight chapters.)

A copper-haired, tanned skin woman turned off her shower head and wrapped a towel around herself. She fought the yawn that threatened to escape her mouth and wiped the steam covered mirror to see her reflection.

Bright brown eyes stared back at her and she flashed herself a smile before grabbing her toothbrush and scrubbing at her teeth. She spit the toothpaste out of her mouth and headed into her bedroom, shamelessly dropping the towel behind her.

She stood nude in front of her closet, looking for an outfit for the day. The copperette sifted through clubwear, short skirts, and catsuits to find a pencil skirt and a button down at the back of her closet. She placed her 'grown up' clothes on her unmade bed and walked to her underwear drawer.

Her panty drawer was separated into three sections; period panties, gettin' some panties, and might be gettin' some panties. The categories were pretty self explanatory. The copperette picked out a pair of 'might be gettin' some's and pulled them up her long legs, then she picked out the bra that accompanied the panties, fastening the hooks behind her back.

The hazel-skinned woman coated herself in a vanilla-scented lotion, her signature scent wafting through the quiet bedroom. Watching herself in the mirror, she put her long, curly, copper hair in a high ponytail, leaving a couple of curls out to frame her face. She twisted her hair around the base of the ponytail until she was left with a tight ball. She put bobby pins in the ball to secure her bun in place. The copperette returned to her bathroom and applied a light BB cream to her face and applied a light pink lipstick to her full lips.

Finally ready to get dressed, she walked into her bedroom and slid on her black pencil skirt that was a little too tight on her behind. She shrugged on the white blouse and buttoned it up, but not too high, she still wanted to show a little cleavage. She then tucked the shirt into her skirt, being mindful to keep her clothes from wrinkling. She placed black patent pumps on her small feet and hurried over to her night stand, grabbing her earpiece and placing it in her ear.

"Good Morning Agent Black." An A.I.'s voice rang through the earpiece.

"Morning, Friday." The copperette woman replied as she strapped twin knives around her thigh, under her skirt. On the other thigh, she strapped a compact pistol. She was now ready for work.

The young woman walked into her living room, her heels clicking against her wooden floor. She picked up her white leather suitcase, did a quick once over of the room, and left her apartment. She pressed the button to the elevator and waited patiently, her foot tapping on the floor.

When the lift arrived, it was empty and she was thankful for that. She walked into it and called out the floor she wanted to go to. The copperette woman took out her phone and scrolled through it absentmindedly, checking her busy calendar. The doors dinged open and she put her phone away, clicking and clacking out of the lift.

The copperette woman smiled and nodded to her fellow agents as she walked the usual way to the meeting rooms of the briefing floor. She did not know what the meeting was to be about, an agent almost never did, but she was anxious. It could be anything from her going on a new mission, to her being locked up for insubordination.

She had come a long way from being the immature recruit she was when she joined S.H.I.E.L.D. and had earned the respect of her colleagues. Her powers had been heightened and she now knew how to control them, not to mention how much her hand to hand combat had improved. She had even earned a codename.

The young woman reached her assigned meeting room and placed her fingerprints on the pad beside the door. The mechanical sound of the door unlocking alerted her that she was in the right place and she swung the door open.

At the end of a long mahogany conference table stood Agent Hill and Agent Romanoff. The woman walked to the end of the table and smiled at her colleagues; she got a smile and a smirk in return.

"Good morning, Ivy." Agent Hill smiled at the copper-haired girl.

"Morning, Maria. Morning, Nat." She took a seat at the conference table. "Am I in trouble?"

Natasha chuckled and shook her head, taking a seat across from Ivy. "No." The redhead stopped laughing and looked at Ivy with a pointed look. "Should you be?"

The copperette's eyes widened and she quickly turned her attention to the older brunette standing in front of the room. "So Maria, what you got for me?"

"Well Agent Black," The brunette woman started, handing Ivy a file. "You're going out on your first recruitment mission."

Ivy took the file and opened it, seeing a picture of a man in a skintight black and red suit. There were two swords strapped to his back and two twin pistols strapped to his thighs. Ivy took a look at his facial profile picture and he was flipping the camera off. According to the file, the man was 6'2, 210 pounds, and bald. No age was listed and his eye color was missing.

"Is this that Spiderman guy? I thought we already had a guy on him?" The copperette thought out loud, still looking through the file.

"No, this is a mercenary named Wade Wilson, alias Deadpool." Natasha informed her, leaning back in her chair.

"The fuck kind of name is Deadpool?" Ivy mumbled as she read the file. He was a high school dropout (like her), from Canada (weird), and ex-military. He was an expert marksman, skilled at hand to hand combat, and highly skilled at fighting with blades. He had thousands of known kills, powers of regeneration and was immortal.

Ivy's eyebrow twitched, a nervous tick of hers. "Are you two trying to kill me? Is that why you're sending me on this suicide mission?"

"No," Maria shook her head. "The opposite actually."

The copperette closed the file and crossed her arms, glaring at the older agent. "How am I supposed to convince him to join us? I'll be dead before I introduce myself and my power can't work on him since he can heal himself; the poison wouldn't even work!"

The young agent had a strange power, if you would even call it that, she could kill something with a touch. Ivy's pupils would dilate, her skin would pale and when she touched the person their life force would drain from them and into Ivy; then they would drop dead.

"We know that." Natasha informed her with a roll of her eyes. "We want you to use your power of persuasion to get him to join us."

Ivy could also make anyone do anything she wanted, all she had to do was look in their eyes and ask. The person would go into a trance and do exactly as she said. Of course when Ivy was a little hellraiser, she used this power to her advantage. Free drinks, free clothes, sexual partners, you name it. Any time she would be in trouble all she would have to do is look at them with her big, brown, doe eyes and open her full lips and say, "I'm so sorry, please let me go." And they would. They had no choice. This ability was Ivy's favorite, though it did get her kicked out of the house for 'witchcraft', as her parents called it.

The copperette woman sighed, "Reading his file, 'Deadpond' or whatever the hell he calls himself would cut my tongue out before I could even speak!"

"He won't!" Maria assured the young woman, "He won't be able to, Black. We've tested your power on mutants and it never fails. You'll be able to control him, that's why we're sending you." Ivy bit her lip nervously, fiddling with her fingers. Maria sighed and placed her hand on the young woman's knee. "Ivy we wouldn't send you if we thought you couldn't do it."

Natasha nodded with Maria and looked at Ivy, her green eyes boring into the younger agents. "Ivy we need him. If he's not working for us, he'll be working against us and putting lives in danger."

Ivy let out a drawn out sigh before finally agreeing, "Okay. Okay. Where am I going and when?"

Maria smiled, relieved that the young agent had agreed to go. "San Francisco, in an hour."

After a quick briefing and a wish of luck, Ivy strapped into a quinjet and being flown to San Francisco. She was reading over Deadpool's file and nervously chewing on her thumbnail. She was still in her clothes from that morning, Maria had told her not to change so Mr. Wilson would not be intimidated by her, but she had put on a little more makeup and undid her severe bun.

She was very anxious; she had never been on a recruitment mission before. The higher-ups usually reserved those kind of missions for experienced agents; the Captain Americas and Black Widows.

Ivy played with the end of her ponytail as the pilot told her to prepare for landing. She reached a hand up and gripped her seat strap as the plane began to descend.

"Welcome to San Francisco." The pilot quipped as they made their way down the landing strip.

"Hopefully this isn't my death site." The copperette mumbled, unstrapping herself from her seat. The ramp of the quinjet went down and Ivy stood from her seat, running a smoothing hand over her clothes. She picked up her suitcase and slid on a pair of cat-eye sunglasses over her eyes. She clicked and clacked down the ramp and onto the landing strip pavement, walking to the SUV that was parked and ready for her.

She nodded to the driver and got into the backseat of the car, a burly man shutting the door behind her. The car took off and Ivy took out her cell phone, calling Maria.

"I'm here." She said as the brunette woman answered the phone.

"Excellent." The agent replied, adding, "Wade Wilson lives in an apartment with a roommate."

"What?" Ivy furrowed her brows, "You didn't tell me about a roommate before."

"Don't worry, Black. It's an old blind woman, she's not a threat." Maria assured the curly-haired woman, making Ivy laugh.

"Why does he live with an old blind woman? Is she any relation?" Ivy inquired.

"No. Just be mindful and let no harm come to her."

"Aye aye boss." The copperette signed off, hanging up the phone. She took a compact out of her suitcase and touched up her lipstick, puckering her lips in the mirror. She flashed her teeth and ran a finger over the pearly whites, clearing any lipstick from her teeth. She put her compact away and let her ponytail down, shaking her curls out and flipping her head down and up again, giving her a bombshell look. To put her look together, she undid two more buttons on her top, making the little cleavage that she had stick out. The young agent then pulled out her recruit's file, looking over it one last time.

The car pulled up to a crumbling apartment building and parked across the street. Ivy put the file away and closed her eyes, taking deep breaths to focus her mind. The copperette's mind was the source of her power of persuasion. Even if her mind wasn't focused, the power still worked, but she would have to look in the person's eyes. If Ivy was mentally prepared before she used her power, all she had to do was tilt her voice in a certain way and the person would follow her orders, eye contact or not. S.H.I.E.L.D. was a key principle of her discovering how to enhance this aspect of her power, specifically Wanda Maximoff.

"Okay," Ivy breathes out, once she is ready. "Showtime." She exits the car with her briefcase on her shoulder and walks across the street to the apartment building. Checking her phone, she checks the apartment number and makes her way to the apartment. When she's outside the door, she smooths her clothes once more and pulls her shirt down a tad, then she runs her hand through her curls, flipping her hair to the side.

The copperette takes a breath and makes the sign of the cross, before knocking on the door. A 'Coulson smile' ticked on her face, the same pleasant smile Agent Coulson had when he recruited her, as she waited for someone to answer the door.

The apartment door opened, revealing an elderly black woman in a purple sweatsuit with thick sunglasses on. Ivy deduced that she was the mercenary's roommate.

"Good afternoon ma'am," Ivy's pleasant voice rang, "Does a Wade Wilson live here?"

"Are you a cop?" The elder asked, and Ivy laughed.

"No ma'am." She replied.

The woman sniffed the air around the young girl and grimaced. "You smell like a hooker." She brashly stated and Ivy's brown eyes narrowed at the woman. "You one of his whores?"

The copperette's eyebrow twitched in anger but she forced a smile on her face. "So he does live here?" She asked, not waiting for the old woman to answer. She altered her voice in that special way she does and ordered, "Let me in."

The woman moved to the side and Ivy sauntered in the apartment, her eyes darting around the dirty place. It looked like elderly people lived there and smelled of mothballs and bengay. A brown, stained couch sat against the wall next to a desk chair where an unfinished cabinet stood. "Can I look around?" Ivy inquired, though she knew the old woman would say yes.

"Knock yourself out, kid." The woman said, finding her way to a chair and sitting down.

The copperette sauntered around the apartment, looking into the first door she saw. It was obviously the old woman's room, decked out in the 50's pink old people love. She shut the door and looked across the hallway, finding another bedroom.

She opened the door and the smell of a teenaged boy hit her, making her scrunch up her nose at the musk. She flipped on the light and the room was very messy, trash everywhere. A table was in the middle of the room and numerous weapons sat on it, along with a hello kitty tote bag. On the opposite wall, there was a cork board with a map, photographs of a bald man, and red string.

Ivy looked over the map with furrowed brows, chewing on her thumbnail. Who was he looking for? The familiar pressure of a gun pressed to the back of her head made her pause. She took a breath and slowly turned around, coming face to face with her masked recruit.

"Oh ho," The man chuckled lowly, "It must be my birthday."