C83 Doggo DNA

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The bustling streets of Los Angeles, alive with the hum of city life, formed a vivid backdrop as Peter and Cosmo made their leisurely way back to their concealed speeder.

With a pack of steaming McDonald's in hand, Peter couldn't help but indulge. He pulled out a handful of fries, munching contentedly as the familiar, salty taste brought a smile to his face. Beside him, Cosmo trotted, her eyes occasionally darting to the food with curiosity and hunger.

"Want one?" Peter asked, holding out a fry to Cosmo. She sniffed it, then gobbled it up with a quick snap of her jaws. Her tail wagged, signaling her approval, though her gaze remained fixed on the bags, hopeful for more.

As they strolled, she whined softly, her eyes glued to the bags. Peter laughed, reaching into the bag to pull out a burger. He unwrapped it and tossed it toward her. Cosmo caught it mid-air, the burger barely touching her tongue before it disappeared.

"How was your first taste of McDonald's?" Peter asked, watching her lick her chops.

Cosmo paused, her head tilting as if contemplating the flavors. "It was alright," she barked back. "But Shashlik is better."

"Really?" Peter feigned offense, clutching his chest. "Well, if that's the case, I guess I'll just eat your share too."

He grabbed another handful of fries, tossing one into his mouth with exaggerated flair. Cosmo's ears perked up, and she stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening.

"No wait, I didn't mean—give me more!" she barked, chasing after Peter who had started to walk away, a smirk on his face.

Their light-hearted bickering continued, echoing down the street, as they enjoyed the bustling cityscape. But as they rounded a corner, a subtle shift in Peter's demeanor signaled a change. His eyes narrowed slightly, scanning their surroundings with a quick pulse of the force.

"Cosmo, don't look now, but we're being followed," he murmured, his voice low enough only for her ears.

Cosmo tensed, her instinct to turn and look almost overwhelming. "Is it the police?" she whispered back, the recent memory of their ATM heist flashing in her mind.

Peter shook his head, still casually munching on his fries. "Nah, if it were the cops, they'd have approached us by now. I'm not sure who it is…"

Cosmo's gaze flickered with unease, and she struggled to maintain her calm. "What should we do then?" she asked, her voice edged with a hint of nervousness.

Peter looked around, his eyes locking on an alleyway just ahead. With a grin, he replied, "Just follow my lead."

Quickly, he veered off the crowded sidewalk, slipping into the alley with the ease of someone used to evading pursuit. Cosmo hurried after him, her paws silent against the concrete.

————

Minutes earlier, Nick Fury and Phil Coulson exited the bustling McDonald's, the weight of their recent discovery pressing on their minds. They maintained a casual pace, blending in with the crowd while keeping a safe distance from their targets, Peter and Cosmo.

Their conversation was low and measured, with each trying to piece together the puzzling scene they had just witnessed.

"Do you think he could be connected to Agent Marco's case?" Coulson asked, keeping his eyes on the pair ahead of them.

Fury, his brow furrowed in thought, glanced at Peter and then at Cosmo, who seemed like nothing more than a curious dog to him. "It's too early to say," he replied cautiously. "But anyone who can make an ATM spit cash like that isn't ordinary."

They continued to follow discreetly, observing Peter's relaxed demeanor and his interactions with Cosmo. Fury noted each detail, his mind racing through various scenarios.

As they turned a corner, Peter and Cosmo suddenly slipped into an alleyway. Coulson and Fury exchanged a quick look, picking up their pace.

"Something's off," Coulson muttered as they approached the alley, his hand instinctively moving towards his sidearm.

Reaching the entrance, they paused, scanning the narrow passageway. It was deserted, save for a lone dumpster and the walls of surrounding buildings creating a dead end.

Coulson's eyes widened in confusion. "Where'd they go?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

Fury, just as perplexed, stepped into the alley, his hand already drawing his pistol. "Check everything," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

They moved forward cautiously, their trained eyes sweeping over every inch of the alley. Coulson approached the dumpster, peering behind it and then inside, expecting to find their targets hiding. Yet, there was nothing—no sign of Peter or Cosmo, just empty space and discarded trash.

Fury walked to the end of the alley, his gaze locked on the walls. He touched them, pushing against the bricks as if expecting a hidden passage to reveal itself. But the reality was simple and stark—they were just walls.

He turned back to Coulson, his expression hardening. "They vanished," Fury stated flatly, holstering his pistol. "There's not even a manhole or a door they could've gone through either. Just a dead end surrounded by tall buildings..."

Coulson, holstering his own weapon as well, looked around once more, his mind racing. "Could they have climbed?" he suggested, though the sheer smoothness and height of the walls made it unlikely.

"It's impossible though…" Fury replied, his mind already cycling through less conventional explanations—technology or some sort of supernatural ability.

With a final, frustrated glance around the alley, Fury made a decision. "We need to expand our surveillance. Whoever he is, whatever he's doing here, I want to know..."

Coulson nodded, stepping out of the alley with a thoughtful look. "We should check the ATM," he added, his voice low.

As they merged back into the city's flow, the mystery of the man and his canine companion deepened, leaving more questions than answers in their wake.

————

Perched hidden atop the rooftop overlooking the alleyway, Peter and Cosmo watched intently as Fury and Coulson walked off in confusion.

As the figures of the two men receded into the distance, a look of shock spread across Peter's face. The sight of Fury had thrown him; not only did he recognize him as the future Director of SHIELD, but there was an uncanny resemblance to another figure he knew—Mace Windu.

The startling similarity to Samuel L. Jackson, who embodied both characters in his old world, threw Peter's thoughts into a whirlwind of what-ifs. 'What if Windu met Fury? Would they think they're twin brothers separated at birth across a whole galaxy?' he mused silently, the bizarre crossover elements of his current universe colliding with his memories. 'Wait… what if they're actually twin brothers?'

Cosmo noticed the puzzled expression etching deeper into Peter's face. "Do you know them?" she asked, her voice laced with curiosity and concern.

Shaking off his reverie, Peter quickly masked his surprise with a nonchalant shrug. "No idea who they are," he lied smoothly. "Though, one of them kinda looks like my master, Mace Windu. But I don't sense the Force from him, so it can't be him."

Cosmo squinted down at the retreating figures, her brows furrowed. "Weird. Should we follow them?" she asked, tilting her head towards the departing Shield agents.

Peter shook his head, his decision firm. "Best not to tangle with them, especially since we've still got to get this feast back to the ship." His voice carried a hint of urgency, reminding them of their original plan.

Once sure that Fury and Coulson were well out of sight, Peter led the way to the edge of the building. With a deep breath, they both leapt off the four-story structure. Mid-fall, Peter's boots glowed subtly, and with a gentle application of telekinesis, their descent slowed just enough to allow a safe landing on the pavement below.

Cosmo glanced at Peter, impressed yet again by his control. Together, they navigated through the city's outskirts until they reached their hidden speeder. With the food secured, Peter fired up the engine, the familiar purr comforting after the day's unexpected events.

As they sped back to their ship, the cityscape blurred into streaks of light. Peter's thoughts drifted back to Fury and Coulson, wondering if they'd be causing him more trouble in the future. For now, though, his focus returned to the simpler joy of bringing a taste of Earth back to his crew, his heart lightened by the prospect of sharing his nostalgic feast.

…

..

.

The engine of the speeder bike hummed softly as it powered down, marking Peter and Cosmo's return to the ship. Eager to share their spoils, Peter called out as they entered, his voice echoing through the corridors, "Hey, we're back, and we brought food!"

However, the expected chorus of responses was absent. Instead, a strange silence greeted them as they made their way to the main lounge.

The sight that met them halted Peter in his tracks. The crew—Groot, Howard, Revan, Rocket, Teefs, Lylla, and Floor—were all huddled around a figure on the floor. It was Natasha, the Black Widow, unconscious and pale.

Peter's brow raised in worry. Dropping the bags of McDonald's on a nearby table, he rushed over, kneeling beside her. His hands hovered over her, checking for any signs of injury. "What happened? Why is she out of the Med Bay?" His voice rose in concern, his eyes darting across the faces of his crew.

Howard turned to him, his voice gruff but trying to be reassuring, "Calm down, Quill. She only fainted. We were just going about our day when she walked in and saw us all... and then she just collapsed."

Peter exhaled slowly, the initial panic subsiding as he processed the information. "I see, she probably escaped," he muttered, gently scooping Natasha into his arms. He stood, addressing his crew. "Your food's on the table over there," he gestured with a nod of his head towards the bags of food, his tone somewhat distracted. "I'll take her back to the Med Bay and make sure she's alright."

As he disappeared down the hallway towards the infirmary with Natasha, the remaining crew members' attention quickly shifted to the table full of food.

Excitement buzzed in the air, spurred on by Peter's earlier hype about the Earth delicacies. However, this excitement turned to shouts of protest when they noticed Cosmo already nosing through one of the bags, her tail wagging as she helped herself to its contents.

"Hey! Cosmo, no!" Rocket exclaimed, rushing over with the others close behind.

Groot extended his limbs, trying to gently pull Cosmo away from the food, intoning, "I am Groot!" which, in the urgency of the moment, meant 'Leave some for us!'

Cosmo, caught red-pawed, looked up with a guilty expression, a half-eaten nugget hanging from her mouth. The rest of the crew converged on the table, each member eager to grab a share of the food before it was all gone.

————

Almost an hour later, Natasha's eyes fluttered open, the bright lights of the med bay momentarily disorienting her. As her vision cleared, she noticed Peter sitting quietly beside her bed, his eyes fixed on a small device in his hands, his datapad.

The calm before had been shattered by her sudden fainting, and now, in the quiet of the med bay, the weight of her confusion and fear felt all the more pressing.

Seeing that she was awake, Peter set the device aside and leaned forward, his expression a mixture of concern and relief. "Hey, you're awake. How do you feel?"

Natasha's mind raced as she tried to piece together her last memories before darkness had claimed her. The images that came rushing back were vivid and unsettling—creatures and beings that seemed to defy all logic and reason. They had been like nothing she had ever seen before, far from anything human.

Turning her head to Peter, her gaze sharp and searching, she spoke with a cautious tone. "Who are you? What is this place? What were those things?"

Peter sighed, knowing this would be a long conversation, "Well…"

————

Meanwhile, back in a nondescript Shield office cluttered with monitors and files, Fury and Coulson sat hunched over a computer, deep in thought.

The aftermath of their encounter with the mysterious man and his dog had led to a series of investigative steps—collecting Cosmo's hairs from McDonald's, retrieving Peter's fingerprints from the ATM, and securing footage that clearly captured both Peter's and Cosmo's faces and figures.

Now, they were piecing together the evidence, hoping to unravel the identities of their mysterious subjects.

Fury tapped commands into the keyboard, running Peter's fingerprints through the many databases Shield has access to. His expression remained neutral, but the slight furrow of his brow showed his anticipation. The screen flickered, processing the input, only to return a result that neither of them expected.

"No match," Coulson read aloud, his tone a mix of surprise and frustration. "How is that possible?"

Fury shook his head, his mind racing through possibilities. "He's like a ghost. He's either entirely off the grid, meaning no driver's license, library card, and so on, or someone has digitally wiped his existence from the records..." His voice carried a hint of suspicion, considering the latter more seriously given the day's bizarre events.

Turning their attention to the other piece of evidence, Coulson uploaded the DNA sample from Cosmo's hair into the system. This time, the anticipation was muted; after all, what database would have records on a dog? They were simply being thorough…

Yet, the system pinged back almost immediately with a hit. Both agents leaned in, their curiosity piqued. The file that opened was not from any ordinary database but from a Russian aerospace archive that SHIELD had copied and stolen many years ago.

"Why is there a file on a dog in a Russian aerospace database?" Coulson muttered, perplexed.

Fury scanned the file, his eyes widening as he pieced together the information. "Cosmo… launched into space in 1966. That's the same dog..."

Coulson's eyes shot up, his mind struggling to grasp the implications. "Launched in '66? That can't be right. That would make this dog almost thirty years old, it should be dead by now…" he said, suddenly realizing something else. "Wait! If the Russians launched it into space, how is it in Los Angeles right now?"

A contemplative and confusing silence hung between them, heavy with implication. Fury leaned back in his chair, the gears turning as he considered the broader implications. "This is becoming increasingly complicated as time goes on..."

The profile on the screen detailed a test subject in a series of space experiments, a small dog sent up as part of the early space race, never expected to survive, let alone return. Yet, here it was, not only alive but back on Earth as well.

"We need to figure out what's going on…" Fury muttered in thought.

Coulson nodded, his mind already racing with possibilities, "Should we contact the Director?"

Thinking for a moment, Fury reluctantly nodded his head, "Yeah, this has become a lot bigger than a dead field agent. We should call in some backup, especially if the Russians are involved somehow…"

A\N: 2535 words :)

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