Disclaimer: This work is a work of fiction. The characters within are fictional and any relation to living characters is completely coincidental, as well as unlikely. Suicide Squad is owned by DC Comics and Warner Brothers and their respective affiliates. The only thing I own is original scenarios within. Now that that is out of the way, Let us venture forth into my very first one-shot story : "Best. Advice. Ever!"
Task Force X had just managed to sneak into the Midway City Central Subway station and with surprising care and stealth for such a go-for-the-throat rag-tag team of crazy mother fuckers. Killer Croc was still with the SEAL team, though, trying to get to the heavy demolition bomb that had been left in the subway tunnels so they were down a man. Well, maybe 'monster' would be more of apt description of someone with thick, armoury green scales instead of soft pink skin, claws and fangs, super-strength, the ability to breathe underwater, and of course the wonderful habit of eating people like they were Big Macs with extra cheese.
The team had gained entry right into the main terminal and were now hiding behind support columns on the far left side of the main terminal floor. They were observing the singular source and cause of the entire city becoming equal parts war zone and real life horror movie. That singular source was the lithe beauty shaking her particularly attractive backside almost like a Samba dancer who had a few drinks in her, garbed in luminescent blue-green robes that undulated and writhed with seemingly a life all their own, directing and administrating the bizarre apparatus in the centre of the huge room that was something in between a constantly changing glowing cloud and alien clockwork that never stopped shifting in shape.
She was the Enchantress.
The two men who had over the course of Task Force X's tumultuous' first deployment become sort-of team leaders, them being Dead Shot – world-renowned 'man who never misses' hit-man – and one Colonel Rick Flagg (Yes, its spelled with two G's!), Graduate of West Point and tortured lover of the Enchantress' human host, one Dr. June Moon, were now watching with rapt attention as the Enchantress shook what June's mother gave her. As Dead Shot stared on at Enchantress' hypnotizing routine, he could not help but comment to Flagg, " So that's your old lady, huh?"
Flagg responded with a sad yet slightly dreamy, "Yep, that's her".
Dead Shot became particularly serious, though, when the Enchantress' strange machine began to pump out more energy as it grew louder.
"Man, you have got to handle that shit! Go up there, smack on her ass and tell her to knock this shit off!" Dead Shot was sure his comment would get a sarcastic rebuttal from Flagg or at least a witty come-back. What he didn't expect was Flagg to have a look of both curiosity and mischief spread across his face.
He daringly stepped out from behind his concealment and brazenly walked up to the Enchantress, despite his teams adamant whispers to get back behind cover, who was so deep into her spell casting (well, what did you think she was doing?! Auditioning to be a Las Vegas show girl?) that she never heard or saw him come up behind her. He swung his arm back so far that everyone thought he had thrown it out of socket and then viciously swatted the Enchantress across her shapely backside with a resounding CRACK!
As per Dead Shot's awesome instructions...which he could not for the life of him believe that Flagg had followed!
The Enchantress jumped so high she almost hit the roof (literally). She squealed in righteous indignation, ready to obliterate whoever had the unmitigated impudence to strike her glorious bottom. She stopped cold at Rick Flagg's incredible glower and was also taken aback by how handsome he was! She felt all kinds of excited as she realized just what wonderful taste in men her host had. A coy little smile spread across her lips as she tilted her head back to look the gorgeous soldier right in his dark blue eyes.
He had a strong but elegant jaw, neither brutish or feminine. A straight, roman nose centred his handsome, high cheek-boned face which had a soft goatee decorating it. Her coy smile spread into a hungry one, which caused Flagg to straighten to his full height. He stood head and shoulders over the extra-dimensional sorceress, but he was still weary of her; you'd have to be an idiot not to be! He quirked a brow and was about to ask her what the hell she was smirking at when she jumped into his arms, wrapped her long legs around his waist, her arms around his shoulders and kissed him for all she was worth!
Task Force X was completely stunned! Dead Shot had meant his little comment as a joke! Well, he had to say, this result was better than a drawn out fight with heavy casualties. Harley started laughing and wolf-whistling like she was a patron at a really great peep show. Katana was so embarrassed by Flagg's uncharacteristic antics she stormed off, she pretty face as red as a tomato. El Diablo on the other hand was smiling like the Cheshire Cat, nodding in approval of Flagg's unorthodox methods for stopping this whole mess and getting a chance to kick it at the same time. Digger Harkness, the ridiculously titled "Captain Boomerang" had somehow gotten a camcorder and was, as he put it, "documenting for the sake of posterity!"
Yeah, right!
Hours later, sans clothing, Rick Flagg and the Enchantress had somehow come to rest on the roof of the terminal building. Flagg had somehow gotten a Cuban cigar and was reclining back with his hands behind his head, smiling so widely it was amazing his head hadn't split in half already, the cigar lit and firmly clamped between his pearly white teeth. The Enchantress seemed to glow, and not just because of her powers. She was sitting up beside her lover, lighting a regular cigarette with her finger tips. Her glorious head dress had somehow stayed in place, the strange eyes along its circumference closed in bliss. She smiled coyly down at the now naked soldier, very impressed with his stamina and "other gifts".
She had put her whole "destroy the world" plan on hold, for a while at least. She was thousands of years old, the Enchantress could afford to wait for a century or two. The people of Midway City who had been transformed had reverted to their human selves, and her machine was powered down, transformed into a rather simple silver ball attached to a thin necklace she now wore around her throat.
As she contemplated her future plans, she heard a gravelly chuckle next to her and looked to her handsome man, wondering what the huge smile and laugh was all about when he chuckled again and saying around the cigar, "Best! Advice! Ever!"
The Enchantress broke out laughing as she realized what he meant by that.
Over to the side, her brother had now joined the rest of Task Force X who were relaxing on deck chairs and bar stools they had appropriated. Harley and Katana were wearing swimwear and working on their tans, El Diablo was working on a huge barbecue, Croc and the SEAL team were playing cards with Digger who cheating like all get out, and Dead Shot was on a cell phone, chatting with his daughter who was glad just to hear from him again.
The Enchantress' brother Incubus looked at everything going on and walked over to Diablo who was just putting the finishing touches on a massive side of beef, which smelled of spices of sweet sauces. He gestured with his head for Incubus to come over. Incubus looked like he was lost at sea and asked in an exasperated tone, "What the fuck is going on?!"
Diablo laughed, earning himself a sour look from the metallic demigod and gestured him to sit down. "Your gonna need a few drinks in you for this one, Homey!"
Author's Notes: This is my first time writing a one-shot so please read and review, tell me how I did, what you thought, and so and so forth! I hope everybody enjoyed this silly little story as much as I have had coming up with it and writing it down for all of you. Till next time!