I do not own X-Men: Origins. I only own Sara
William Stryker had assembled a team. A team in which he recruited eight lethal human beings. There was James Howlett, who had bone claws; Victor Creed, who had finger nails that could grow really long; John Wraith, who was a telepoter; Fred Dukes, who had super-strength; a marksman David North, who Stryker referred to as Agent Zero; Chris Bradley, who was an electricity manipulator; Wade Wilson, a swordsman martial artist and Sara Marie, a telepath and hydrokinetic.
They were in a plane on there way to Lagos, Nigeria. It was a long flight. Wade had one of his precious swords out, sharpening it. Sara, who was sitting right next to him, was getting annoyed by the noise that was being made.
"Could you stop that? It's giving me a headache." She told him.
Wade smirked but continued sharpening the knife. "I love this weapon more than anything in the whole wide world, you wanna know why?" He asked.
Victor, who was clearly annoyed and uninterested, answered him, "No."
The disinterest the others had didn't seem to matter to Wade. He just loved to talk about it. He never seemed to stop talking, come to think of it. And it got on everyone's nerves, especially Sara's. She dreamed of the day that would come that he would just shut up. Though it would probably never come, she hoped.
"It's memorable," Wade spoke about his sword, "Sure it's a little bulky, tough to get on a plane. You whip out a couple of swords at your ex-girlfriend's wedding, they will never, ever forget it." He had a smile on his face.
"That's funny Wade. I've think you've mistaken me with someone who gives a shit." Victor spat out. A small smirk made its way onto Sara's youthful face.
Wade scoffed, "Granted, it's probably not as intimidating as having a gun, or bone-claws or the fingernails of a bag lady… Manicure?"
Sara giggled. This had become entertaining. It was the most entertaining thing that had happened around her that she didn't have to force people to do.
"Fred got a new tattoo. I'm a little concerned."
James looked over and saw a tattoo of a woman on Fred's arm, "Jesus, Fred, you just met her last night."
"I love her."
"After one night?" Sara asked.
"She's a gymnast." That explained it.
Bradley smiled. "Bradley, take her down." Stryker commanded.
Using his electrokinesis, Bradley lowered the plan out of the sky. It made the plane shake. For mostly everyone, it was okay. It made James groan.
"You gonna puke?" Fred asked.
"If we were made to fly, we'd have wings." James explained.
"Aww, don't worry Nancy, more people die from driving than flying." Zero mocked him.
"How 'bout impaling?" James asked him.
Tension.
"Hey be nice," John told him, "Or be your approximation of nice…would you like a bucket?"
Sara's laughter sent everyone else into laughter.