Ok everyone sing! Happy Birthday to Askita! Happy Birthday to Askita! Happy Birthday dear Askita.... Happy Birthday to Askita! :)
In case you couldn't guess, today is my darling beta's birthday. I asked her if she'd like a special ficlet just for her and she said yes! She requested something ficletish inspired by Nickleback's song "Next Contestant." (which is TOTALLY appropriate for growly!John don't you think?)
So, I, very craftily mind.. took a poll of a few of her favorite things, and included them in this fic! Apparently she likes it too!
(If you want to give her a present, go review some of her fics- they rock!)
BTW, I own neither Doom nor the X-Men, and even Firefly belongs to Askita. All that's mine is this little plot bunny!
John took a long swig of his long neck, his eyes glued to the figure weaving her way between tables and around the cage taking orders and delivering drinks to the mutant crowd that had already gathered for the fights that would take place later that evening. John, himself would not actually be taking part until tomorrow evening. Tonight's main event was the 2nd night in an elimination round of matches, contests pairing off until eventually only 2 men remained. He'd come out on top yesterday night, and he wouldn't even know until after midnight who he'd be fighting tomorrow in the finals.
Or at least, he mused, he didn't know who he'd be fighting tomorrow The longer he watched his little lightning bug work, the more likely it was he'd be brawling long before the finals. He had to admit his lover looked damned good in the uniform required for working in this underground club. The owner liked his waitresses to be another form of entertainment for his patrons: in tiny tank tops, leather minis, and fishnets, the women were guaranteed to pull in just as many male customers as the fight itself. John tended to think they also started half the fights. At least Firefly did.
He leaned back a bit in his chair, relaxing a bit as Firefly moved back behind the bar and into the kitchen, probably after nachos for the table she'd just left. He sighed, and it came out as more of a groan. It was bad enough during the week when the club was a bit less crowded, but fight nights tended to attract the dregs of the mutant underground, and it was damn near guaranteed that someone would try something with his lover. Because of that, he'd asked her not to work on fight nights.
Hell, he'd actually asked her not to work at all. Or at least not in a place like this. In the long run though, she'd won that argument for the fact was, they needed the money she brought in between her paychecks and tips. He could, and often did, win a decent sum in the fights, but without her additions to their rent fund, whenever he lost they could find themselves in a bind. And this club being what it was, he did lose from time to time.
A flash of color and movement caught his attention. John turned to look, and a pair of kids, way too young in his opinion to be hanging around a place like this, moved into the open dance floor in front of the cage and began showing off in a display that seemed half choreographed dance and half mutant pyrotechnics. Once again he found himself thinking that it was ironic as hell that it was just when he and Firefly had finally begun to meet people like them that their luck had gone all to hell. Before the Mutant Registration Act and the fear that had swept the globe, it had been fairly easy for them to survive. After Olduvai, the couple and Sam had moved around like crazy, constantly changing identities and vocations, doing whatever they needed to do to stay one step ahead of the UAC's investigations. Eventually the bastards had laid off, and Sam, at least had been able to settle down and find a home in one of the small towns they'd lived in for a while. For John and Firefly, however, things hadn't been that simple. It was hard to settle down anywhere the people might notice just how different the couple was from the rest of the population. So, they'd kept moving, making their gypsy ways more of a lifestyle than just a habit.
Now though, now paranoia was at an all time high, and proper ID's were getting harder and harder to come by. It had meant more than a few changes for the both of them, changes like the derelict room they were renting for far too much and Firefly's current job and his cage fighting, changes John really wasn't sure he could handle in the long run.
His sensitive ears picked up the sound of one specific heartbeat and he glanced back toward the bar to track his lover's progress through the room once again. She dropped off the plate of nachos, then lifted her head to meet his gaze and grinned, picking up her pace to head over to his table. She set down the beer she'd brought him and dropped onto his lap, her arms wrapping around his neck as she did.
"Hey there, handsome." She smiled and leaned in for a long lazy kiss. "Just checking on you. You need anything else?" It was a loaded statement, and they both knew it. John just pulled her in for another, rougher, kiss, his hand sliding over the texture of her fishnets to the edge of her skirt.
"Not anything you're going to give me here," he said, causing her to chuckle against his neck. She gave him one more swift kiss and then pulled herself off his lap.
"Try to behave yourself, John," she snarked, causing him to roll his eyes. She grabbed the empties off his table and winked at him over her shoulder as she sauntered off. He let out a mildly offended snort as he watched her, eyes focused on the bit of anatomy he'd just barely missed getting his hands on. In his opinion, she should know damn well that walking like that was going to make it much harder for him to follow her instructions.
Sure enough, that little sway in her step attracted the wrong type of attention before she even got back to the bar. The big man who slapped her ass as she walked by was not one John had ever seen before, and that made it all the more likely that the dumb shit would underestimate him. He stood and stalked over, ignoring the growing crowd. Firefly had started bitching out the man as soon as he put his hand on her, but apparently the asshole didn't know the meaning of the word "No." John reached his lover's side right as the guy again tried to grab her. John's hand caught the other man's wrist first.
"She's not interested." Firefly shot him an amused and exasperated look. They both knew she was just as capable of defending herself as John was, but really, John just had more fun doing so. She snuggled back to his side as the offending mutant shook off John's hand with a glare.
"Who asked you, you little punk?" John raised an eyebrow. He wasn't exactly a small man at 6'1"; this was definitely the first time he'd been called a little punk. Firefly hid her smirk in his shoulder, as he studied his erst-while opponent. OK, so the man was easily 6'7" and clocking in at about 350 lbs, but as long as his mutation wasn't something exceptionally exotic, John figured he could take the other man, and more than likely, Firefly'd find some dumb sucker to bet against him. That was one of the other bonuses of this place,:the owner, a smooth talking Cajun known to have a fondness for gambling and women (not always in that order), fully approved of his employees making a little extra-curricular money betting on the unofficial fights such as the one John was about to start. John allowed a condescending smile to slide onto his face. Oh yeah, this was going to be fun.
"She did. Want to make an issue of it?" He watched the other man survey him, obviously out to make it blatantly clear that he thought John damn near insignificant. The mutant sneered.
"Cocky little shit!" The other man lunged. In a swift movement, John released his hold on his lover, and the pair shifted and spun to face each other, one meaty fist flying into the space they left between them. Firefly shot him a wink, then backed out of the impromptu ring that had been formed by the spectators. John let her go, his full attention now on his opponent. The mutant swung again and John dodged, then darted in close to slam his his fist into the asshole's jaw. To his great irritation, the other man merely shook it off, and grinned fiercely.
"Not bad for a puny little asshole like-" John didn't bother with the tradition of trash talk, just slammed in with a lashing kick to the thigh. His opponent cursed and staggered before swinging out with his massive hands again. John just took it all in, his mind calculating weaknesses and likely attacks, and continued circling silently. He took a chance, stepping in close again to aim another jabbing blow. It was only when he crashed into a table several feet away that he realized the mutant had landed a blow. A blow that had damn near shattered John's jaw; a blow far, far harder than even a man that size should be able to throw. John rolled to the side as the mutant rushed in, trying to finish the fight while he was down. Instead, John came up in a crouch, the pain as his jaw pieced itself back together absolutely excruciating. He allowed himself only a moment of satisfaction as the mutant took in his newly healed face with a look of dawning confusion and horror.
"That it?" he asked, stalking out of the wreckage of the table back into the open floor. The mutant roared out something drunken and intelligible and charged again. John kept well clear of the man's fists this time; the mutant had made no move to try to kick or grapple, and John didn't doubt that what ever the mutant's power was, it was likely centered in his hands. Beyond that and the fact that he didn't seem too quick on his feet, John didn't really wonder. Now that he'd figured out his opponent's strength (and likely weaknesses), he had all the intel he needed. He picked up his speed, moving even faster than before, hammering at the slower mutant with blow after kick after punch to the ribs, the knees, the back, whittling down his larger opponent with pain and exhaustion. It was really only a matter of watching for his opening after that. The big man swung a punch that was years too slow to hit John, and too slow to avoid the powerful kick across his forearm. The crack as bones broke was almost painfully loud to John's ears. He stepped back as the big man dropped to his knees, his arm cradled close to him and shock written on his features. John raised an eyebrow, silently asking if the other man would actually be stupid enough to continue. The mutant shook his head and let one of his buddies help him up and lead him away.
John swept his gaze over the crowd, watching as money changes hands and people started moving back to their tables. A woman's voice caught his attention, and he turned.
"You did good out there, sugah. Ah must say, Ah was impressed." The speaker was a woman, perhaps a few years younger than John looked, and more than just attractive if he dared admit it. She was smiling, her face open and genuine. She opened her mouth to speak again, but paused as John felt a hand slide down his hip. He glanced down and saw said hand slide a rather large wad of cash down into his front pocket. Firefly reached around with her other hand and handed him a beer to replace the one he'd abandoned.
John hid a grin as his lover pointed wrapped her arms around him and glared at the other woman. Never let it be said that John was the only possessive one in their relationship. Surprisingly, the stranger didn't back down under Firefly's gaze. If anything, her smile actually grew wider. She stretched out a hand.
"Ah'm Rogue. Ah was just telling your man how impressed Ah was by his performance." Firefly blinked, apparently a bit befuddled by Rogue. John wasn't sure he blamed her.
"Dere you are, cher!" John did grin this time as the smooth talking redhead who owned the bar came and dropped an arm about Rogue's shoulders.
"Watch it, Bub." A shorter, rough looking man pulled Rogue out from Gambit's arm.
"Aw now, Gambit tink dat be rude, homme. I just be saying hello to an old friend, no?" The new comer took a long drag of his cigar apparently unimpressed. "Well den, now Gambit be going. I'll see you soon, cher." The Cajun winked at Rogue and sauntered off, ignoring the stranger's grumbling growl. Rogue just met Firefly's gaze and rolled her eyes.
"Logan, behave. I've got someone for you to meet!" She nodded in John and Firefly's direction. "This is him, the one Remy was telling us about." Logan raised an eyebrow, and studied John a moment.
"You're the one who won last night?" John nodded, grinning. "The one who can heal?" John nodded again, wondering where the hell this conversation was going. "You can call me Wolverine." At that rather infamous name, John made his own quick study, taking in the dog tags around Rogue's neck that did in fact bear the former X-Men's moniker. He met the other man's gaze thoughtfully.
"I'm Reaper."
"Well, Reaper, whatever you do, don't expect to win tomorrow." John's eyes narrowed, and he could sense a matching glare on Firefly's face.
"What's that supposed to mean? You don't even know who's gonna be fighting."
"Yeah, I do. It'll be me." With that, the Wolverine turned and headed over to a table on the opposite side of the cage from where John had been sitting earlier. Rogue gave them one last grin and followed.
"So," John said, drawing his eyes down to meet his lover's.
"So," she echoed. "You think I outta warn Gambit that he'll need to make it a timed match or else plan for a really, really long couple of days?" John laughed out right at her quip.
"Yeah, probably," he answered. He glanced back over at the first actual challenge he'd be facing since Sarge. He let her lead him back toward his table with a grin. "You know, I get the feeling it'd be nice to have a damn grenade."
"Next Contestant" by Nickleback
I judge by what she's wearing Here comes the next contestant [CHORUS] I even fear the ladies Here comes the next contestant [CHORUS] I'm hating what she's wearing Here comes the next contestant [CHORUS] There goes the next contestant
Just how many heads I'm tearing
Off of assholes coming on to her
Each night seems like it's getting worse
And I wish she'd take the night off
So I don't have to fight off
Every asshole coming on to her
It happens every night she works
They'll go and ask the DJ
Find out just what would she say
If they all tried coming on to her
Don't they know it's never going to work
They think they'll get inside her
With every drink they buy her
As they all try coming on to her
This time somebody's getting hurt
Is that your hand on my girlfriend?
Is that your hand?
I wish you'd do it again
I'll watch you leave here limping
I wish you'd do it again
I'll watch you leave here limping
There goes the next contestant
They're cool but twice as crazy
Just as bad for coming on to her
Don't they know it's never going to work
Each time she bats an eyelash
Somebody's grabbing her ass
Everyone keeps coming on to her
This time somebody's getting hurt
Everybody here keeps staring
Can't wait 'til they get what they deserve
This time somebody's getting hurt
I wish you'd do it again
Each night seems like it's getting worse
I wish you'd do it again
This time somebody's getting hurt
Hope you liked it as much as she did.. it's an odd crossover, I know. Reviews are love my dears!
