Self Insert as Spider-Man MCU

I walked into what SHIELD agents called the New York office and it was a normal office building. It was a real, honest to god, office building. They really went in for the whole 'facade is real' thing until you stepped into the elevator. Natasha opened a panel and put her hand in it, then a second panel opened and she hit the button for B3.

“I'm going to answer your questions before you ask.” Natasha said. “The businesses in the above building are real, even if it's populated by SHIELD agents. With an organization that spans the world, there are a lot of normal things to be handled, not to mention all of the paperwork.”

The elevator came to a stop and I followed her out.

“Scientists have their own labs in the above space if it's something they are working on for general use or could be for public consumption. Restricted labs used for SHIELD assets are on B5 and lower.” Natasha said. “And no, these are not the only labs available. We have several locations and other places that are used or can be.”

I nodded and she led me through the various rooms and showed the regular training areas, an indoor obstacle course, an expansive shooting range, a medical wing, and spare rooms for agents recovering from a mission or had stayed late and wanted to sleep for the night.

“On B1 is the administration floor with mission organizers, human resources, personnel and agent management, the cafeteria, and some of the people that help manage and run an organization as large as SHIELD.” Natasha said. “B2 is for equipment storage and general supplies, weapon dispensary, and a small testing range. Anything that can cause major destruction is usually tested offsite.”

I nodded again and was led back to the elevator and we rode it up to B1. I was taken to the HR department and given the recruitment speech about every person being important and that no matter how horribly I tested in the examinations, they would find a place for me and my contributions would help keep the country, and the world, safe.

“Thank you for the vote of confidence.” I said to the woman handling my recruitment and she gave me an odd look before we spent nearly half an hour dealing with paperwork and filling out my information. Since I was applying as Ben Parker, son of a previous agent, my status had already been upgraded from 'grunt' to 'acceptable'. That was a huge difference in the paperwork I filled out, because Natasha looked impressed.

My work contract actually included my schedule and if I was assigned a desk job or to be a lab assistant, they could work around it to maintain my cover. When I mentioned being assigned it anyway to cover up being one of the best field agents they had, the woman behind the desk gave me another odd look.

“You need to work on your confidence, Ben.” Natasha joked and I had to chuckle at that.

“You're right. I shouldn't underestimate myself like that.” I teased and she chuckled.

“Sign here, here, initial here, sign here, and then we'll add your hand print to the database.” The woman said and I did as she asked. She took out a small scanner that looked like what Natasha had used in the elevator and typed a few things on her computer and then nodded to me.

I put my right hand on it and a brief green glow later, a perfect copy of my hand appeared on her computer screen. The four fingertips and my thumb were highlighted with a circle around each and five empty boxes on the right of the screen were filled with each fingerprint.

“Are you going to do my left hand, too?” I asked and she gave me that same odd look. “I suppose that can wait until it's needed.”

“Why did you ask that?” The woman asked me.

“Don't you have left-handed people working here?” I asked and she gave me a confused look.

“We all still have right hands.” She commented.

“Yes, we do.” I said and gave Natasha a look, and she chuckled as she got it.

“If anything gets stolen and there are fingerprints left at a crime scene, if the person has a dominant left hand and the police only have their right hand prints on record...”

“Oh.” The woman said and looked surprised. “I'll need to send out a general message for left-handed people to report to me and get their proper hands scanned.”

“In addition.” I added and she nodded.

“Do you have a dominant left hand?” She asked me.

“No, my right hand is dominant. I only use my left hand when I want to feel something new or different when I jerk off.”

The woman behind the desk blinked her eyes at me several times as Natasha sighed. “Excuse me?”

“I'm sorry. I was making a joke.” I said.

The woman's eyes narrowed at me. “Don't do that.” She said sternly. “If I have to start dealing with sexual harassment or inappropriate behavior reports about you, your contract will be terminated after a short investigation.”

I opened my mouth to point out that there wouldn't be a reason to investigate if she was going to terminate me anyway, when Natasha's fingers dug into my side and pinched me. So, I nodded instead.

The woman opened a drawer in her desk and handed me a sealed package. “This is the standard acceptance package that everyone gets when they join. Handbook, rules, cell phone, earpiece, and a copy of the contract.”

I watched as she took out a handful of others and placed the stack on the desk.

“These are the specialist packages. Depending on how you do on the following examinations, you could qualify for one of them and they contain more specific information for that branch of our services.”

“What if I qualify for more than one?” I asked and tucked the standard package into my gym bag.

“Normally, you would get a choice. Unfortunately, with the current situation with a new entity causing our organization to go into a higher state of readiness, the needs of SHIELD will take a priority over your options and you will be placed where your skills will be most useful and not necessarily where you would like to go.”

I managed to not frown at that. “Wouldn't that cause nearly immediate job dissatisfaction?”

The woman opened her mouth to respond, then she sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. I'm already swamped with complaints about the roster being shuffled around to accommodate the new response team to handle Spider-Man.”

I couldn't stop my eyebrows from rising, because I expected for them to search for me. I didn't expect them to construct a specific team to come after me. I glanced at Natasha and she shook her head slightly, which told me she wasn't assigned to that team, so that was a huge relief for me.

“So, what's first?” I asked.

The woman smiled, almost evilly. “The written exam.”

“Bring it on.” I said, confidently.

Her smile actually did turn to look evil. “No one has ever finished it.”

“Do I have to answer every question to qualify as completing it?” I asked.

“I would prefer an attempt be made, even if it is only to write 'I don't know' in the available space.”

I nodded and we left her office. Natasha took my cell phone, the earpiece I already wore, and my gym bag, probably because they didn't want me to cheat. She waited in the next room while I was sat at a desk and given a mechanical pencil and a stack of sheets half an inch thick.

“Good luck, Mr. Parker.” The woman said and left the room.

There had been surveillance cameras all over the place and one was in the room with me, so I assumed she was going to watch if I cheated. I expected that, so I looked at the top sheet.

'Please read each question carefully and answer where appropriate.'

It was the wording of that statement that had me question what it meant. I didn't know why I thought the wording was odd, so I started quickly skimming through the test sheets. It had been stapled on the top left corner with an industrial stapler and I easily flipped through the different sections. English, Mathematics, Science, Physics, Chemistry, Biology, Geography, History, Tactics, Procedures, Accounting, Business Management, Psychology, Electronics, Computers, Engineering, and a few others.

I was still feeling like it was odd for some reason, then I reached the very last page. It wasn't a test page at all. It was an index of the test with check marks beside each topic. It also had a small form at the top and it said something that made me smile.

'If you were smart enough to follow the very simple instructions on the front page to read the questions first, please mark what subjects interest you on this list and only fill in those sections.'

I chuckled at that and felt justified in following my gut feeling. I immediately marked Math, Physics, Chemistry, Electronics, Computers, and Engineering, then flipped back to do those sections. I would glance through the other sections afterwards and see if I could answer the majority of the questions before checking that interest as well.

I blew through the Math section and even 'fixed' two of the problems to solve them properly in addition to giving the real answer. Chemistry was laughably easy. Physics was a bit harder, because it was difficult to visualize in my mind what they were trying to describe on paper. I spent a bit longer on that section than I should have, just because I had to draw out the questions to get them right.

Electronics was also a breeze, mainly because I had worked and studied so hard to catch up to the rest of the class. That there were also seniors present to talk to, as well as an enthusiastic teacher, my knowledge had increased by leaps and bounds.

Engineering was harder, because it combined a lot of different subjects, like mechanical engineering, statistics, calculus, civil engineering, fabrication, drafting, design, and physics. I still did really well in it. The section on computers was ridiculous. It was mostly logic puzzles and coding questions with multiple choice answers, so my hand moved through the answers like lightning.

I checked the time and laughed, because it had only been an hour and I had answered a ton of questions. “I'll check the other sections and see what else I can do.” I said out loud and did exactly that.

I ended up filling out the sections on English, psychology, science, history, business management, procedures, tactics, and leadership and command. The maintenance section was mostly cleaning questions and I smashed that one like an empty beer can on my forehead. I checked the boxes for those sections and looked at the time. I had half an hour left to the three hours.

“Hey, are there any spare sheets or more sections?” I asked out loud. “This doesn't have all my interests, like cooking, exercising, and robotics.”

A moment later, the woman came in and she had that odd look on her face again. “That's not how SHIELD works, young man. You are here to fulfill the agency's interests, not your own.”

“That's fair.” I said and flipped the test closed and then signed my name at the top. “Here you go.”

She accepted it and seemed to stare at the thing.

“When you're scoring it, you might need to borrow a college book or two to check the answers.” I said and stood. “Where do I go next?”

“You're with me.” Natasha said from the doorway. “The shooting range is next.”

“Great! I can show off for you and not get in trouble over it.” I said and walked over to her.

“Don't get cocky, Ben.” Natasha said as she handed me my gym bag.

I was tempted to make a joke and remembered the woman that stood beside the desk. “I won't, Agent Widow. That has no place on a firing range.”

Natasha's eyes widened slightly before she nodded and led me down the hallway to the elevator. “I expected a joke or an off-color comment.” She whispered when she pushed the button.

“I was warned about joking around in a sexual manner. I don't want to be fired before I'm officially hired. That would just be embarrassing.”

Natasha gave me a questioning look. “Have you ever held a gun before?”

“I've never had a reason to.” I said and she gave me a pointed look. “What? It's not like a civilian can get access to all kinds of weaponry to see what they would prefer.”

The elevator opened and we stepped in.

“I suppose that's true.” Natasha said and we went to B2 to pick up some firearms and the necessary safety equipment. We could have used the small range available there, except the test required a full examination, so I had to try using each of the different ranged guns available.

Luckily, they had a small cart for us to use and Natasha signed out four different handguns, a box of ammo for each, two different model shotguns, a normal rifle, a sniper rifle, and three different automatic weapons. The cart was piled high with the cases of guns and boxes of ammo and the dispensary officer chuckled because he had to use a cloth strap to hold it all together to secure it.

Natasha had an anticipatory look on her face as I pushed the cart out into the hallway and we went back to the elevator. I was sure it was because she was going to enjoy showing me how to handle the weapons, if the sheer amount of bullets she had signed for was any indication. I also thought she fully expected me to be completely green with how I handled and used them.

We went down to B3 again and entered the extensive shooting range. A small group of men were there and nodded when they saw us. I wasn't sure if it was prearranged or what, because they had everything set up for us in only ten minutes.

“Thanks, boys.” Natasha said and nodded to the door.

“I'll be monitoring if you need anything else.” One of them said and they cleared out.

“You're really enjoying this.” I whispered as I unstrapped the weapons from the cart.

“I know how quick of a learner you are.” Natasha said and helped me pile everything off to the side and sorted it all in order of importance. “If you don't pick this up as quickly as you did... other things... I'll be annoyed.” She said and gave me a pointed look. “You don't want to see me when I'm annoyed.”

I nodded several times and didn't laugh, even though she looked cute when she took a stance and stared at me like that.

“We're starting with the handguns.” Natasha said and picked up the smallest case and we went to the pistol part of the range. “This is usually used as a back-up weapon that can be stashed almost anywhere on your body, because of its small size.”

I stared as she opened the case and saw that it was the smallest handgun I had ever seen.

“This is the Beretta Pico. It's only five inches long and three quarters of an inch wide.” Natasha said and popped the clip out, then opened the tiny box of ammo for it. “It's a double action 38 calibre, which means you don't have to cock it to put a bullet into the chamber. It has adjustable sights and a clip capacity of six with an additional one in the chamber if you're in a tight situation and need the extra shot.”

I watched as she quickly filled the clip with six bullets and popped the clip back into the gun.

“I'll show you how to disassemble and clean it later.” Natasha said and handed me a set of ear coverings before she put her own on.

I stood off to the side as Natasha took a strong firing stance, then she picked up the gun and aimed. She pulled the trigger and the gun barely moved in her hand. She waited a moment, then fired again, and again and again. She emptied the clip of six bullets and then cleared the gun by pulling the slide back, setting the safety, and put it down on the table.

Natasha hit the button to retrieve the paper target and stepped back from the table as she took off her ear protection, which I copied to hear her. “Handguns can be shot accurately anywhere from 50 feet to 300 feet. Closer, it's chancy because you're rushing the shot with something that close. Beyond the limit, you lose accuracy exponentially the further out the bullet has to travel.”

I thought about that until her paper target arrived. “With all the different factors, like intervening terrain, wind resistance or side force, I would have to agree.”

Natasha gave me a look before she changed the paper and hit the button to send it back up the range. “What do you mean by that?”

“In a controlled environment like this one, just the angle you fire the bullet would determine where it lands.” I said and her eyebrows went up. “Considering the speed the bullet leaves the barrel and the force of gravity acting on the bullet over the time it travels...” I thought about it for a moment as I plugged the numbers into the right equations and nodded. “...you need to shoot upwards at about a 40 degree angle for it to travel about a mile.”

Natasha just stared at me. “With a handgun.”

“Yeah, amazing, right?” I asked and stepped over to the table. “Good luck finding an indoor space that's a mile long and is high enough for the bullet to arc through.”

“Ben...”

“I know, no showing off.” I said with a knowing smile and looked at the range reading on the target. It was right at the 300 foot limit for accuracy, so I checked the gun sights and they were set for maximum distance. I put on the ear protection and glanced at her to see that she had done the same. I nodded and loaded the clip and unchecked the gun, slipped the clip inside and took a strong stance and aimed.

I took a deep breath and let it out as I pulled the trigger. Thanks to my strong grip and my wall sticking powers, the gun didn't move at all. I waited a moment and shot again and again to empty the six shots, then I did the same thing she did and cleared the gun before I hit the button for the target retrieval and stepped back.

The blank look on Natasha's face when the target came to a stop was worth showing off, because I had made a smiley face inside the outer ring of the bullseye.

“You gotta love math, physics, and geometry.” I said with a smile.