Coulson stood in front of Watson, who was busy savoring the last few bites of his burger. Watson raised an eyebrow, clearly amused as Coulson interrupted him mid-chew.
"Alright, Watson," Coulson began, "we need your help. We're tracking down a certain playboy who's been… let's just say, otherwise occupied. You wouldn't happen to have any bright ideas, would you?"
Watson smirked, already piecing together the situation. "Playboy? Tony Stark, I assume?" He leaned back, crossing his arms. So, it's happening— he thought. The events of poison demon bird have kicked off.
Coulson nodded. "Exactly. Any suggestions?"
Watson's grin widened. "I don't have a perfect solution, but I think my pets could assist with the search. However," he added, raising a finger, "I've got a condition."
Coulson tilted his head. "What condition?"
"In addition to adding this to your little black book of favors, I want you to fix my house. Bigger, better, and fast—I've got my Uncle Rocco's funeral the day after tomorrow."
"Deal," Coulson replied without hesitation. As he spoke, his gaze shifted to the Detel, the adorable yet mysterious creature nestled in Watson's arms.
Before Coulson could comment, the Detel—nicknamed "Braised Egg"—extended a paw toward him and let out a confident "Meow!"
Coulson blinked. "Uh… did it just…?"
"Yup," Watson said with a smirk. "Salted Egg says he's glad to meet you."
Coulson hesitated, then awkwardly shook the paw. "Wow… it can communicate? Nice to meet you, Salted Egg—I mean, Braised Egg."
"Impressive, huh?" Watson teased. "Braised Egg has some surprising skills. He's not much of a fighter, though. His specialty is laying traps."
"Traps?" Coulson echoed. "I thought it might… you know… open its mouth and swallow enemies whole or something."
Watson laughed, his grin turning mischievous. "Hey, Coulson. Wanna test out one of Braised Egg's traps?"
Coulson instinctively stepped back, sensing trouble. "Uh, no. Absolutely not. Not a chance."
Watson held up his hands in mock surrender, still chuckling. "Suit yourself."
The pair exited the burger joint just in time to see a bright red vintage car parked by the curb. Watson stopped in his tracks, his eyes narrowing in disbelief.
"Coulson… where did you dig up this relic?" Watson asked, pointing at the car.
Coulson grinned, unfazed. "Watson, show some respect. You're standing in front of a lady."
"A lady?" Watson deadpanned.
"Her name's Laura," Coulson replied, patting the car's hood. "Look at those lines. Beautiful, isn't she?"
Watson rolled his eyes. "You must not have a girlfriend. If you did, I bet she's never seen this thing."
Coulson straightened his tie smugly. "Actually, I do have a girlfriend. She plays the cello. And yes, she's ridden in Laura."
Watson gawked at him. "You're telling me you've got your girlfriend and your car named Laura? That's… wow."
"Alright, enough jokes," Coulson said, trying to steer the conversation back on track. "What do you need me to do?"
Watson smirked. "Help me get ID cards for my pets."
Coulson blinked, confused. "Your pets? You mean Braised Egg and those two oversized dragons? Sure, no problem."
Afghanistan - U.S. Air Force Base
Watson opened his eyes as the SHIELD aircraft touched down on the runway. Beside him, Braised Egg yawned, stretching lazily.
The plane door opened, and Coulson stepped out first, followed by Watson—his youthful, almost glowing confidence on full display. A massive red-orange cat followed close behind. Waiting for them on the tarmac was Colonel James Rhodes, clad in military fatigues and wearing a no-nonsense expression.
Coulson extended a hand. "Coulson. Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division."
Rhodes raised an eyebrow. "Rod. Colonel, U.S. Air Force. I'm the liaison for the Tony Stark situation." His eyes swept over Watson and Braised Egg. "No offense, but is this it? I thought SHIELD was sending reinforcements. Instead, I get… a teenager and a cat?"
Coulson gave a thin smile and gestured to Watson. "Allow me to introduce Watson Diarant. He's our special advisor for strategic and tactical support. He's also leading the mission to find Stark. And that," he pointed to Braised Egg, "is his pet. Spiced Corned Egg."
Rhodes stared, incredulous. "You're joking. You expect these two to find Stark? SHIELD's resources haven't turned up a thing, and we've been combing the desert with fighters and helicopters for months! What's the plan? Drop the cat out of a plane?"
Watson rolled his eyes. "Relax, Colonel. I've got this." He glanced at Braised Egg, who let out a confident "Meow!"
Rhodes crossed his arms, still skeptical. "I hope you know what you're doing, kid. Stark's running out of time."
Watson smirked. "Don't worry. Just sit back and let me work."
As the trio moved toward their transport vehicle, Watson pulled out a small device, glancing at it as a holographic map lit up.
"Afghanistan, eastern province… got it," Watson muttered. His voice turned playful as he added, "Alright, Braised Egg. Let's show them what we can do."
The cat purred, and Rhodes could only shake his head. "This is gonna be one hell of an operation…"