the continuing adventures of frequently-amnesiac!Wade and grouchy!Taskmaster, now with 95% more hot blonde Russian chick. picking up shortly after Yelena arrives on the scene.
warnings: very lightly implied slash. very lightly implied het. humor. violence. au with 616 references. spoilers for Messiah War, volume 2 of C&DP, Secret Invasion and its aftermath. language: pg-13 (primetime tv plus s*** and f***).
pairing: not that it matters, but lightly implied Nate/Wade, implied Tony/Sandi, jokingly implied Wade/Sandi.
timeline: sometime before Christmas. thirteenth-ish of December, 2011.
disclaimer: marvel owns Cable & Deadpool, disney owns marvel.
notes: 1) if Tony thought he could get away with it, he'd totally tap that. unfortunately, Yelena likes Wade and Tony's got Sandi to think about. 2) DL = down-low. to keep something on the DL means to keep it quiet/secret. 3) as far as i know, the comics haven't named Sandi's cat. for my purposes, his name is Mister Binky. 4) in point of fact, one of the best Russian euphemisms for "completely suicidal" is "letting the bomber take you to the kremlin." it has to do with the crazy driving that Russian taxi drivers employ, which has earned them the moniker "bombily" = "those who drop bombs," and the fact that traffic near the kremlin is also crazy. i actually learned that from a Russian taxi driver's son. long story. 5) internet cookies to fans who can guess what Wade set as Nate's ringtone. 6) "chicken laughter" and "being fit for chickens to laugh at" deal with the (probably well-known by this point) Russian phrase "eta kuram na smekh" ("it's for chickens to laugh at"), which idiomatically means "this is nonsense." 7) "bozhemoi" is Russian for "(oh) my god." 8) am i the only one who's noticed that a lot of HJO movies end in death/tragedy/tears?
The Itsy-Bitsy Only Competent Person Present
Yelena tapped a gloved finger against her lip. Tony wished she wouldn't, because it was far more distracting than it had any right to be. "Tell me again why it is we cannot just walk in front door and shoot everything?" she said. "Is only A.I.M., after all. Their combat efficacy is minimal." And it shouldn't be sexy to hear the word 'minimal' pronounced 'mee-nee-mull,' but Tony was starting to think Yelena could make a lot of annoying and unlikely things sexy (he blamed her tailor; the guy must have sold his soul to be able to quilt a full leather suit and gloves to her exact measurements).
"Be-caaaaaause," Deadpool said, "if we just went in the front door, guns blazing, there'd be splodey death, which would draw superhero attention, and then Nate would know right away. We're trying to keep this on the dee-ell, so I can maybe break it to him gently. I mean, there's gotta be a better way of saying it than, 'By the way, Nate, I let second-rate Avenger-fodder steal the baby.'"
The blonde cocked a hip (there was a phenomenally distracting creak of kevlar-reinforced leather). "All right. Stealth infiltration is possible in theory…A.I.M. preventative security is lousy, but reactive lockdown could cause problem."
"Your boss manufactures teleportation tech," Tony pointed out.
She crossed her arms under her considerable bosom. Things rearranged very distractingly indeed. Surely she was doing it all on purpose.
Deadpool snorted. "Sorry, were you talking? Tony was too busy watching the boobage."
Guiltily, Tony scowled at the scatterbrained merc. "I think you're confusing me with yourself again, you low-class shameless pervert."
"Ha. You're the one who keeps reminding me that my current 'other half' hasn't got boobs. And I've got a sense of shame…somewhere. Maybe Mister Binky batted it under Sandi's fridge."
"I thought I told you to leave Sandi out of this," Tony growled.
"I didn't say anything about Sandi, I only mentioned her cat and her fridge," Deadpool snidely corrected.
"Implying that you lost your sense of shame in my girlfriend's apartment."
"Ahem," Yelena cut in, before their bickering could get out of hand. "Oscorp teleportation technology is unstable at best. Prototype Deadpool stole was…" She grimaced. "…appropriated technology, not yet fully reverse-engineered."
Of course. Tony rolled his eyes. Leave it to Norman Osborn to steal a bunch of brand new shit from a man twice as smart as he was.
"StarkTech, eff-tee-double-you!" Deadpool laughed.
"It's just as fast to say 'for the win,'" Tony pointed out.
"It's just as fast to say 'shut up, dick.'"
"Both of you, shut up," said Yelena. "At any rate, Deadpool's plan is…lacking tactically."
Tony scoffed. "'Lacking tactically' must be a Russian euphemism for 'completely suicidal.'"
Yelena flapped a hand. "No, that is different phrase. Finding base, not hard. Finding girl in base…not so hard with Deadpool's plan. Getting girl out without, as you say, 'splodey death'…very much harder."
"Don't be a naysayer, Yelena," Deadpool said. "That's Tasky's job. Now, what if we built this large wooden badger?"
Yelena regarded him blankly for a moment before casting Tony a questioning look.
"Bad movie reference," he said. "Yet another indication that this plan lacks so much, tactically." Deadpool's plans were never all that great, but if he was resorting to Monty Python, they might be well and truly screwed.
"Yeah, could we maybe hurry this along, before certain people start to get irate and excessively curious?" Deadpool said, finding an intact communicator and wiping off most of the blood.
"All right, all right," sighed Yelena. "Hand here, I will trace." She attached some kind of tricorder-looking thing to the communicator and pressed some buttons.
A cell phone rang.
"Whitney Houston?" Tony said incredulously.
"Shut up, I couldn't find the Dolly Parton version," Deadpool muttered, answering his phone. "Honey! Hi! Wow, it's so good to hear from you; 'speak of the devil' and all that junk. No, no, nothing's wrong, why would you think something was wrong?"
Tony fought the urge to smack his own forehead.
"Oh, Hope's just visiting the little girls' room with Inez, that's all. Okay, you so totally can't tell whether I'm lying, Mister Can't-Read-Minds-Anymore, and it's completely plausible. What? How could you think I'm killing people, of course I'm not killing people…"
"Oh, no, the killing part's already over with," Tony muttered. "Hiding things is not healthy for a relationship, and you always repeat things several times when you lie to him over the phone."
Deadpool flipped him off. "Well, if I sound disingenuous, it's only because I resent the implication that I would, in any way, be irresponsible with our precious little red-haired princess. Yes, I'm sure you didn't mean it like that, Priscilla, and you can make it up to me later with those fuzzy handcuffs. Will you buzz off and let us enjoy our girls' day out? We were fixin' to hit that cute little boutique with all the kid-sized designer shoes. Yeah, yeah. Love you, too. Bubbye."
"You are finished?" Yelena drawled as Deadpool hung up.
"Are you?" he countered. "Suspicious boyfriends had to be redirected. It's apparently a school night."
"You don't know what day it is?" Tony yelped. "Oh, this'll work out great." He could see it now…'Hi, Modok! Wow, what am I doing here? Who's that guy with the skull for a face? Let's shoot him!'
Deadpool snorted and pocketed his phone. "I happen to know it's Wednesday."
"The suspicious boyfriend told you?"
"Yes. And you're really one to talk about hiding things in a relationship—at least my sig-fig has seen my face. Yelena, my dear, you have the base's coordinates?"
She tossed her hair. Tony wondered if there was such a creature as a Shampoo Fairy, and if one got her wings every time someone like Yelena did 'the hair-flip thing.' "You talked chicken laughter for ages. I had coordinates of base sometime just before 'disingenuous.' I find it surprising for you to know such big word."
"Chicken laughter is one of my specialties, and a lot of things about me are surprisingly big, sweetheart," Deadpool said with a wholly inappropriate wiggle of his eyebrows.
To her credit, Yelena managed to stifle her laughter. "Bozhemoi… Come along, plan may actually work, knowing our luck."
"Knowing my luck, I'll end up bound and gagged with someone gloating," Tony groused.
"Sounds like a good day t'me, Tasky," Deadpool said, and smacked him on the ass.
Even for Deadpool, that was pushing it. Tony ground his teeth together and reminded himself that Sandi scolded people who were 'mean' to Deadpool. "If you ever do that again, you'll need to grow a new hand."
Deadpool edged toward Yelena.
"Unless you want your head beaten in with your own arm, don't even be thinking about it," she said flatly. "Now, according to plan, you and Taskmaster will create distraction at front door while I infiltrate central computer to locate child. Upon confirmation of precious cargo, I will send notification and retrieve if possible. Remember—do not fully insert—"
Of course, Deadpool snickered.
"—unless absolutely necessary. Deadpool, word was not that funny. Insertion requires extraction—"
More snickers. Tony rolled his eyes again.
"—which will almost certainly require splodey."
Deadpool bounced and clapped like a five year-old. "That is so cute. Can you say that again? C'mon…splodey!"
She shifted her weight again with another chorus of creaky leather. Really, it was a miracle she could sneak at all. "It will make you shut up and get moving?"
"Promise. Scout's honor."
Tony sputtered. "Scout?"
Yelena rolled her eyes. "Splodey. Move before I tie your arms around your neck like noose and have Taskmaster drag you."
"Oh, baby, you say the hottest things to me," Deadpool sighed, walking out of the alley and gesturing for Yelena to lead the way.
There was a beep from the tricorder-thing, and Yelena pressed a button. "Hm. We seem to be having some bad news."
In record time, Deadpool was in front of her and shaking her back and forth by the shoulders. "Whattaya mean, 'bad news'?"
There was a complicated chorus of leather creaks and fleshy crackling noises, and Deadpool's arms were tied in a (rather noose-like) knot around his neck. Yelena primly smoothed her hair back into place. "A.I.M. base is under attack by Hydra forces."
"What?" Deadpool squawked. "Those…those…assholes! If they put one teeny tiny scratch on my little Snickerdoodle's head, I'll…I'll…"
"Call Cable and finally get us some real help?" Tony suggested without much hope.
"No! I am not a goddamn damsel in distress, I don't need to call my boyfriend for every little thing."
Tony nodded slowly. "Every little kidnapping and ransom of his potentially-messianic foster-daughter. Right."
"Also, I'm completely not a crybaby, no matter what you've read or heard, I just get these runny-eye allergies, and it's totally okay to cry like a little girl when you're in the middle of a mental breakdown or at the end of Haley Joel Osment movies. Besides, Nate was jumping alien sharks in space! That's so more interesting and believable than me going weepy on my couch."
Tony knew better than to ask for any kind of explanation. Saying something incredulous like, 'Sharks?' would lead to something like, 'In space! Iknowright?' and some horrifically mind-numbing tall tale. He ignored the extraneous information. "Okay, no calling Cable, even if Hydra has done terrible things to Hope. What will you do instead?"
Deadpool gesticulated with his hands (which were currently behind his head from the knot-tying). "I'll fucking well call Laura and Neena! Let those bastards feel the wrath of two angry and hard-to-kill chicks in tight clothes! Uh, in addition to the hard-to-kill chick in tight clothes that we already have. Damn, that sounded more mathematically accurate inside my brain."
"So what are we gonna do?" Tony asked. "Keep heading for the A.I.M. base, try to interrupt the fight before Hydra can make off with Hope?"
"I kinda figured we'd start there and chicken-laugh our way through it."
Tony blinked. The laughing chicken thing must be a Russian joke that he didn't get.
Deadpool went back to the mouth of the alley, disturbingly comical with his arms still knotted, and looked both ways. "Now…which way to Mordor?"
"Left," Yelena sighed.
"He's gonna get us killed," Tony muttered.
"Possibly," the Russian agreed.
.End.