Now that the the brainslide research is finished, Wade's going home. There's still the small matter of that job offer...

Warnings: Crossover with the Fateverse, sci-fi, Loki bein' Loki, Jessica Jones showing grudging affection to a regenerator by way of mild violence, not really explaining anything to poor Logan. Language: PG-13 (primetime tv plus f*** and s***).

Pairing: Logan/Wade.

Timeline: Shortly after Scientific Method (a Fateverse story); Wade arrives back in his home universe immediately after A Proposition.

Disclaimer: Marvel owns all recognizable characters.

Notes: 1) Title comes from the amazing David Bowie song "Heroes," a track covered by a multitude of great bands including Depeche Mode and Hollywood Vampires (in which Joe Perry was especially good, by the way). 2) Fifteen's romper is probably something similar to this. 3) Favored alcoholic beverage of Klingons. Most likely, there is someone's actual blood involved, because Klingons. 4) Fifteen likes stupid sexy boots. Today she's wearing something like this. 5) Tony Stark was in the middle of fiddling with Wade's brainware when Skye and the Savant grabbed him back in A Proposition. 6) In this universe, Peter Parker snores loud enough to wake the dead.

(We Could Be) Heroes

Wade looks at the woman perched on his table.

She's…kind of a lot to take in, even with the shit he's seen.

Long legs, long hair (dark and curling), long nails (black and gold). Knee-length stiletto boots, dark lipstick, a bracelet that looks decorative but probably isn't. Skintight leather romper with some kind of fluttery sarong, full-length fishnets. A general impression of smug superiority.

Kind of an evil Lady Gaga vibe, really.

"Hhhhi," Wade says slowly. "I think you have the wrong room. I'm sure you're very nice, but I'm in a committed monogamous—monoandrous—thing, and my boyrfriend can get a little—"

"I'm Loki. You're Wade. I'm genuinely pleased to meet you, and that's rather rare. Then again, you and I are rare creatures—a Loki who doesn't grow old and a Wade who can timeslide."

Wade needs something alcoholic and sugary, so he orders a jug of bloodwine and a bottle of peach schnapps from the replicator and starts to alternate swigs.

"When you've had a bit of a holiday, you'll be working with me for a while," she goes on. "I'll be showing you the ropes of incog and semi-cog tuning, though I suspect your main use will be specialised retrieval, as you can go places so many of our field agents and Keepers cannot."

"I haven't said I'd take the job," Wade grumbles.

She tilts her head. "I have never had children, but if I had to choose between working for the Network and living a life grieving the absence of my sister without the comfort of remembering her, I know what I would choose."

She's not wrong in assuming he feels the same way. He takes another pair of drinks.

"Shall I get you a bucket so you can mix them?"

"Shush, I'm thinking."

"Ah, then it was grinding gears I heard just now."

Oooooh, burn.

He pouts at her.

She smiles sweetly. "Wade, dear, our rarity is a gift that bears great benefits as well as the obligatory great burden. I can coexist with my other selves, and so I can go anywhere and anywhen I like. You can take over the mind of any of your other selves, or you can be easily transported to any branch lacking one, and so you also can go anywhere and anywhen. There are trillions of possibilities, mirrors both polished and tarnished. You can see and experience things you've never dreamed possible. And then, at the end of each job, you can go home to your scowling lover and rest well, knowing that you have been instrumental in keeping a balance that preserves billions of universes."

Wow, why are all superhero recruitment ads so extra?

Wade chugs some schnapps before glaring at her stupid sexy boots. The heels are metallic and probably go 'click click' in a very satisfying way. "You spend a lot of time with that Savant asshole, huh?"

"Not as much as you, I'm sure," she says, smoothing out some nonexistent wrinkle in her skirt.

He quaffs his bloodwine like a proper Klingon.

(It makes her eyebrow twitch.)

Heh.

"With great power comes great yadda-yadda," he says, and belches loudly. "Because we're awesome, almost nobody can do what we do, but it's super useful. Fuck, I'm so tired of being a hero already…"

"Oh, Wade, honey," she says, and clicks her tongue. "We are not heroes. We are gods, and we enjoy all the euphoric freedom thereof, provided we perform our sacred duties within the expected guidelines. Morality is an interesting construct, I'll grant you, but if you stare at the pixels too hard, you'll miss the picture. Right and wrong matter, yes—but only insofar as they affect our personal resonance and its propagation."

"You'd be—what? My boss?"

Her mouth twists a little. "Mm. More like…a tutor. My relative authority is based in greater knowledge and different experience. In terms of our status as Keepers, we are equals unless one or the other of us is given command of an assignment. The Network has a few good ideas of how to utilise you, but it's best to give you a grounding in the hardest work before you need the related skills."

"I get to go home after every job," he stipulates.

She shrugs. "You can return to the instant you left, if you like. Assuming you or your Node can make the appropriate calculations, at least."

He finishes the schnapps. "Coolio. You got a syllabus? What's on the agenda for Day One?"

Does Panda get a Level Zero?

She tosses her hair. "We'll start by defining what is and isn't considered an incognito tuning action. But not today. Rest up—he's going to send you home, and a brilliant man is already tinkering with your mind and body."

"Not gonna lie—it's a little creepy that you know that."

"We're time travelers, Wade."

Wat.

"Huh. Well…yeah, but…huh." He squints. "Did you research me?"

Loki hops off his table and walks for the door (the stupid sexy shoes make a very nice sound on the floor). "I'll fetch you when it's time, Wade. Give my regards to Tony."

She totally researched us!

For once, Wade lets himself find comfort in routine. He brushes his teeth, he makes himself sleep. He wakes up and brushes his teeth again, because the booze from the day before has left a taste in his mouth that manages to combine death, peaches, and peppermint.

The day is bright and beautiful when he leaves his temporary quarters for the last time.

Jess is waiting in the hall with her usual Resting Unimpressed Face. "So you're goin' home."

Wade gestures vaguely. "For now. I, uh. I think I'm dumb enough to take a permanent job, though. Dunno if they'll put me back here, or… I'm a Keeper now, I guess. So. Do they—we—have, like, a special barracks?"

She rolls her eyes and punches his shoulder (hard enough to break his collarbone, which is pretty gentle by her standards). "Whatever. I guess we'll see you around, then. You got a portable yet?"

He shakes his head.

With a scowl, she takes a reused sticky note out of her pocket and scribbles a set of numbers onto it. "Here. That's me. Gimme a yell if you ever wanna eat weird chocolate shit again. Or just hang out. Or some shit."

Awww, she likes us.

"I'll miss you, too, Jess," he tells her with a lopsided smile, but pockets the note. "I gotta go."

He's already five strides down the hall when she calls out, "Don't be a stranger, asshole!"

Turning, he walks backward and draws an X over his heart. "Promise I won't, grouch."

The Savant meets him at the entrance to the Tower and walks him to the transport rooms. "Calculated the conduit myself," the guy says. "You'll land exactly one second after we left, in exactly the same spot."

Wade shakes out some jitters. "Like I was never even gone."

"Yeah, well." The Savant makes a weird face, like he can't tell whether he's happy or mad or annoyed. "Thanks for this, Wade. It's. It was real important to Nate, and, uh…"

"I get it, Wade," he interrupts, saving them both the awkward moment. "And thanks for always kicking my ass into gear."

"Don't get used to it; I got a full-time job, y'know."

"So do I, now."

"Guess I'll be seeing you around, then, Keeper 188. Transporter, you're go for conduit."

The transit officer pokes some buttons on his console. "Conduit scheduled on Theorist-provided flight-plan, authorization Transporter 2256. Conduit open."

He steps through the champagne-tingle and stands staring at his borrowed bed in the Avengers Suite at Stark Tower.

The door opens.

"If one more o' these science bastards calls my cells 'fascinating' or 'interesting,' I'm gonna tape 'em to the Spider-kid's ceiling for a night."

Wade sets about smothering his boyfriend with hugs and kisses.

"Not—that I'm—complaining," Jamie manages between smooches. "What brought that on? And why do you smell different?"

"Field trip," Wade explains. "Six months. New job."

"Oh. Good?"

"Awesome."

"Good."

.End.