I "finished" writing this about a month ago.
Sorry it's so late, but work and editing difficulties got in the way. The last one was fluffy, so this one is super angsty to make up for it. After this I'll try to start writing stories where they're actually, y'know, getting together.
Title- Real Friends Help Hide the Bodies
Fandom- Marvel
Pairing- Siryn/Deadpool
Rating- PG
Genre- Angst
Summary- The ducks are to blame for everything.
Disclaimer- I don't own any copyrighted properties mentioned within. They belong to their copyright holders naturally.
Real Friends Help Hide the Bodies
"You know, Terry, I think you're being too narrow minded about this whole revenge thing. Maiming and murdering are my specialties, sure, but there have been whole books written on the subject of getting back at assholes who really deserve it. We just need to think outside the box on this one." Wade casually tossed his falafel wrapper into a nearby garbage can.
Theresa scattered more crumbs at her feet, watching the ducks peck away at the remains of their lunch. She brushed back her hair as she sat up against the park bench. "Only ye could talk about blood and killing in weather this nice, Wade."
Wade continued as though she hadn't said anything. After a few weeks living with the merc, she’d learned to wait out his chatter. "I mean, extortion and slander are right out. There's not much worse you can be known for than, 'shamelessly sleeping with both your co-workers at the same time' and 'baby eating job deserter.'"
Theresa had to smile at that. Wade's constant blather definitely made getting through the day easier. She learned if she didn’t pay attention to what he said the next thing she knew, he’d be coloring on the walls or dragging her to a monster truck rally. She had her hands too full keeping up with him to dwell on the past.
"Ye've given this some thought."
"Of course! Unlike Nate, I can rise to any challenge, without the aid of a certain little blue pill." He blathered on, not seeing the horrified look on Siryn's face. "Now, let's see...no relatives or pets either, which puts the kibosh on kidnapping," Wade held up a hand when she protested, "Even if there was any way you'd let me. That also rules out a lot of other crap like bombing his house or just lighting him on fire and laughing while he runs around like a Special Olympics champ. I gotta tell you, Terry, you're not making this easy."
"Are ye doing pro bono work now? I don't recall hirin' ye." She smiled teasingly at him.
"Of course not! I'm still the remorseless, killer wisecracker my fans know and love! I just..."
Wade was staring down at his fists. For a man who was called, "The Merc with the Mouth" he tended to stutter and lose his train of thought a lot around her.
"Just what, Scrapper? Really enjoy tormenting my exes? I decided the sympathy card ye made was a nice touch-”
“You liked that!?”
“But if ye go any further'n that it'll be a different story," Theresa said firmly.
"Beating up and humiliating a guy in a warehouse is only funny the first time. Unless you turn it into a running gag kind of thing, but I don't have the patience for that. I just get the feeling the lesson didn’t sink in."
“If it didn’t, that’s my problem, Wade. If Jamie needs to be taught a lesson, I’ll be the one teachin’ it,” Siryn said, her eyes cold.
Wade looked surprised, and vaguely disturbed. “I’m not sure I like you this bitter.”
She didn’t know how to respond to that. They sat in silence for a moment. Theresa knew it wouldn’t last. Any second now Wade would find a new train of thought and…
"Herpes!" Wade shouted cheerfully. A nearby jogger almost gave herself whiplash looking at him. Siryn didn’t bother to suppress a groan.
“It’s perfect! I can just find a hooker and pay her to hook up with him. Sure, I’ll be about twenty bucks shorter…”
“Only twenty…?” God knew she shouldn’t encourage him this much, but morbid curiosity pushed her on.
“I’m not hiring a good hooker for that tool. Anyway, it’ll ruin his sex life! Hell, his dupes’ll probably wind up catching it too because you just know he’s narcissistic enough to screw himself. I mean, you can cure syphilis and AIDS is as good as shooting him, but herpes…! Hey, wait…Does Monet’s invulnerability protect her from STDs? Is he still sleeping with her?”
Theresa stood up. “Wade, I’m going to pretend this conversation didn’t happen. I really hope ye’re not serious about this.”
“You heading back?”
“Someone’s got to record yer soaps. Are ye comin’ with me?”
Wade stretched and sprawled out on the bench. “Nah. I thought I’d head over to the warehouse. I got guns to clean, ammo to sort…nasty hookers to call…”
“I’ll see ye later tonight then.”
“Yeah.”
Wade sat on the bench, staring at the branches above him thoughtfully. He continued talking to himself after Terry left. “Herpes…I’m some kind of idiot genius. He’ll never get laid again. Why didn’t I think of that before I made the card? ‘Our deepest sympathies for your loss. I beat your ex up and gave him a VD.’ But that would make it sound like I had some kind of healing-factor resistant, super crotch-rot and had sex with Madrox. Who in the hell would be stupid enough to have sex with- Oh, wait…”
Wade fell silent again. People continued walking by and staring. Always the fucking staring. It made his fingers itch for things that made people bleed. This was probably why he wasn’t cut out for the whole ‘hero’ thing. Ben Grimm probably didn’t think about gouging people’s eyes out, no matter how much they deserved it. That made him one of the good guys. One of the few genuinely good guys. The rest were a bunch of hypocrites sitting in their ivory towers. Just like Madrox, really.
Wade started talking again. His voice took on an ugly tone, one that would have sent Bob into hiding and warned Weasel to back the hell off. “…Of course, Red, the best way to get revenge on your ex is to get the hell over him and start screwing somebody else…Find somebody who disgusts him. Somebody he never thought you’d even look twice at. Then you make damn sure he knows about it and that it’s better than anything you ever had before. If you really want the full effect though, you have to keep refreshing his memory. Text him the dirty details, talk to his friends about your new squeeze, mail him kinky bondage pictures of you and your mercenary boyfriend. Make sure he knows he‘s total scum who can‘t even compete with a freak.”
Wade’s anger was replaced by vague confusion when his right hand squeezed metal. When did he draw his gun? Why was he standing? Oh, great. He’d been screaming and people were running. Soon the park was deserted except for the damn ducks. The cops were probably on their way. At least this time he hadn’t killed anybody. He holstered his .45 underneath his jacket and started walking toward the nearest side street. Time to inconspicuously catch the bus and either go to the warehouse or home. Okay, so he couldn’t go to that park again. No big loss. He hated people and ducks.
The bus stop was deserted and Wade still didn’t know where he was going. He could go to the warehouse, put on the Deadpool costume, and teleport back to New York and see if Jamie still deserved a shallow grave. Or he could go back to the apartment and watch trashy TV with Terry…maybe that dancing show he kept watching even though he hated it. Terry’d probably believe him if he told her he could dance better then those C-list celebrities. They could put on some salsa music and make a decent night of it. She’d make a killer dance partner, all grace and long red hair and he’d…well…he’d be a monster would could dance. He could keep telling himself he had a chance with her or he could actually do something for her. Sure, she’d hate him for it, but…
Wade looked up at the ceiling of the bus shelter and sighed. “I wish you’d quit trying to save me, Terry.”
Title- Real Friends Help Hide the Bodies
Fandom- Marvel
Pairing- Siryn/Deadpool
Rating- PG
Genre- Angst
Summary- The ducks are to blame for everything.
Disclaimer- I don't own any copyrighted properties mentioned within. They belong to their copyright holders naturally.
Real Friends Help Hide the Bodies
"You know, Terry, I think you're being too narrow minded about this whole revenge thing. Maiming and murdering are my specialties, sure, but there have been whole books written on the subject of getting back at assholes who really deserve it. We just need to think outside the box on this one." Wade casually tossed his falafel wrapper into a nearby garbage can.
Theresa scattered more crumbs at her feet, watching the ducks peck away at the remains of their lunch. She brushed back her hair as she sat up against the park bench. "Only ye could talk about blood and killing in weather this nice, Wade."
Wade continued as though she hadn't said anything. After a few weeks living with the merc, she’d learned to wait out his chatter. "I mean, extortion and slander are right out. There's not much worse you can be known for than, 'shamelessly sleeping with both your co-workers at the same time' and 'baby eating job deserter.'"
Theresa had to smile at that. Wade's constant blather definitely made getting through the day easier. She learned if she didn’t pay attention to what he said the next thing she knew, he’d be coloring on the walls or dragging her to a monster truck rally. She had her hands too full keeping up with him to dwell on the past.
"Ye've given this some thought."
"Of course! Unlike Nate, I can rise to any challenge, without the aid of a certain little blue pill." He blathered on, not seeing the horrified look on Siryn's face. "Now, let's see...no relatives or pets either, which puts the kibosh on kidnapping," Wade held up a hand when she protested, "Even if there was any way you'd let me. That also rules out a lot of other crap like bombing his house or just lighting him on fire and laughing while he runs around like a Special Olympics champ. I gotta tell you, Terry, you're not making this easy."
"Are ye doing pro bono work now? I don't recall hirin' ye." She smiled teasingly at him.
"Of course not! I'm still the remorseless, killer wisecracker my fans know and love! I just..."
Wade was staring down at his fists. For a man who was called, "The Merc with the Mouth" he tended to stutter and lose his train of thought a lot around her.
"Just what, Scrapper? Really enjoy tormenting my exes? I decided the sympathy card ye made was a nice touch-”
“You liked that!?”
“But if ye go any further'n that it'll be a different story," Theresa said firmly.
"Beating up and humiliating a guy in a warehouse is only funny the first time. Unless you turn it into a running gag kind of thing, but I don't have the patience for that. I just get the feeling the lesson didn’t sink in."
“If it didn’t, that’s my problem, Wade. If Jamie needs to be taught a lesson, I’ll be the one teachin’ it,” Siryn said, her eyes cold.
Wade looked surprised, and vaguely disturbed. “I’m not sure I like you this bitter.”
She didn’t know how to respond to that. They sat in silence for a moment. Theresa knew it wouldn’t last. Any second now Wade would find a new train of thought and…
"Herpes!" Wade shouted cheerfully. A nearby jogger almost gave herself whiplash looking at him. Siryn didn’t bother to suppress a groan.
“It’s perfect! I can just find a hooker and pay her to hook up with him. Sure, I’ll be about twenty bucks shorter…”
“Only twenty…?” God knew she shouldn’t encourage him this much, but morbid curiosity pushed her on.
“I’m not hiring a good hooker for that tool. Anyway, it’ll ruin his sex life! Hell, his dupes’ll probably wind up catching it too because you just know he’s narcissistic enough to screw himself. I mean, you can cure syphilis and AIDS is as good as shooting him, but herpes…! Hey, wait…Does Monet’s invulnerability protect her from STDs? Is he still sleeping with her?”
Theresa stood up. “Wade, I’m going to pretend this conversation didn’t happen. I really hope ye’re not serious about this.”
“You heading back?”
“Someone’s got to record yer soaps. Are ye comin’ with me?”
Wade stretched and sprawled out on the bench. “Nah. I thought I’d head over to the warehouse. I got guns to clean, ammo to sort…nasty hookers to call…”
“I’ll see ye later tonight then.”
“Yeah.”
Wade sat on the bench, staring at the branches above him thoughtfully. He continued talking to himself after Terry left. “Herpes…I’m some kind of idiot genius. He’ll never get laid again. Why didn’t I think of that before I made the card? ‘Our deepest sympathies for your loss. I beat your ex up and gave him a VD.’ But that would make it sound like I had some kind of healing-factor resistant, super crotch-rot and had sex with Madrox. Who in the hell would be stupid enough to have sex with- Oh, wait…”
Wade fell silent again. People continued walking by and staring. Always the fucking staring. It made his fingers itch for things that made people bleed. This was probably why he wasn’t cut out for the whole ‘hero’ thing. Ben Grimm probably didn’t think about gouging people’s eyes out, no matter how much they deserved it. That made him one of the good guys. One of the few genuinely good guys. The rest were a bunch of hypocrites sitting in their ivory towers. Just like Madrox, really.
Wade started talking again. His voice took on an ugly tone, one that would have sent Bob into hiding and warned Weasel to back the hell off. “…Of course, Red, the best way to get revenge on your ex is to get the hell over him and start screwing somebody else…Find somebody who disgusts him. Somebody he never thought you’d even look twice at. Then you make damn sure he knows about it and that it’s better than anything you ever had before. If you really want the full effect though, you have to keep refreshing his memory. Text him the dirty details, talk to his friends about your new squeeze, mail him kinky bondage pictures of you and your mercenary boyfriend. Make sure he knows he‘s total scum who can‘t even compete with a freak.”
Wade’s anger was replaced by vague confusion when his right hand squeezed metal. When did he draw his gun? Why was he standing? Oh, great. He’d been screaming and people were running. Soon the park was deserted except for the damn ducks. The cops were probably on their way. At least this time he hadn’t killed anybody. He holstered his .45 underneath his jacket and started walking toward the nearest side street. Time to inconspicuously catch the bus and either go to the warehouse or home. Okay, so he couldn’t go to that park again. No big loss. He hated people and ducks.
The bus stop was deserted and Wade still didn’t know where he was going. He could go to the warehouse, put on the Deadpool costume, and teleport back to New York and see if Jamie still deserved a shallow grave. Or he could go back to the apartment and watch trashy TV with Terry…maybe that dancing show he kept watching even though he hated it. Terry’d probably believe him if he told her he could dance better then those C-list celebrities. They could put on some salsa music and make a decent night of it. She’d make a killer dance partner, all grace and long red hair and he’d…well…he’d be a monster would could dance. He could keep telling himself he had a chance with her or he could actually do something for her. Sure, she’d hate him for it, but…
Wade looked up at the ceiling of the bus shelter and sighed. “I wish you’d quit trying to save me, Terry.”