THE R-RATED RAINBOW UNICORN DEADPOOL CELEBRATORY SPECIAL CHAPTER IN HONOUR OF DISNEY BUYING FOX
"I'm sorry, but you can't bring your weapons in here, sir."
"Isn't a man allowed to accessorise?"
"Not with katanas," Eva said, and her customer sighed heavily, walked out of the coffee shop and stuck his twin swords in the plant pot outside. He came back in and bounced up and down on the balls of his feet as he examined the chalk board above her head that broadcasted the overpriced menu.
"How much for a soy mochalatte with two extra pumps of hazelnut and whipped cream?!" the man said, horror all over his masked face. Eva didn't comment. "Oh, well. I'm in here now, and it would be rude to walk out. I'll have the aforementioned, please. Iced. With one of those curly straws in the pot behind your head."
"They're for decoration, sir."
"So were my katanas."
Eva glared at the man for a moment. "Fine," she said, slamming a mug under the coffee machine. "One iced white girl drink with a curly straw."
"You're too kind. I know that the relentless monotony of the service industry can really get a chick down, as can this repetitive and quite frankly cliché scenario of superheroes in a domestic setting, but hey. It pays the bills and gets you followers, am I right? Here's my due." He dropped a small pile of money on the table, and Eva glanced over her shoulder at it with a raised eyebrow.
"We don't accept Disney dollars, sir," she said.
"F**k! Right. This is my holiday utility belt. Hang on, I've got some hidden on me for emergencies… where's your bathroom?"
"To your left."
"Right. Be right back." He darted off, leaving Eva to continue making the ridiculous beverage. The only other customer in the coffee shop stared over his laptop at the man, at the red suit and the katana sheaths and the bullet holes, and blinked when the bathroom door swung shut behind him, clearly in a state of shock. Eva didn't stare. She didn't care. She just made the drinks.
"Ta-da! You, uh, you might wanna wear gloves when you pick it up, though," said the man when he returned a minute later, handing her a twenty-dollar bill that had been delicately wrapped in toilet paper. Eva stuck it in the till, knowing her shift ended before the shop shut and the money had to be counted, and therefore that the suspiciously sourced money stopped being her problem as soon as she closed the cash register. Then she washed her hands.
"My name's Deadpool, by the way," said the man. "What's yours?"
Eva tapped her name tag.
"What a lovely name, Eva. And what are you, then? Self insert? Wish fulfilment? A cheeky little commission, perhaps? I can't seem to get a read on you. What's your backstory? Is it tragic? Ooh, I sure hope so."
"Can I get you anything else, Mr Pool?" Eva asked, rising onto tiptoe to retrieve a straw from the top shelf.
"A happy ending? Single or double entendre, I'm not fussy."
Eva suppressed a sigh. "Anything else?"
"Seven of your finest rainbow cookies, if you would be so kind. And one oatmeal. I haven't had breakfast yet. I was too busy, you know, killing bad guys."
"What did you do that with, then?" Eva asked, fixing a lid on his drink.
"Oh, just the power of friendship – my f**king weapons, that's what!"
"Those weapons being –"
"A metric f**kton of guns and my katanas," said Deadpool with a note of pride.
"Your katanas."
"Yep."
"That you threw a strop about leaving outside because you said they were accessories and not weapons."
She couldn't see his eyes behind the white slits in the mask, but Eva was fairly sure the man was glaring at her. "You set me up for that," he accused her. "And, for the record, everything's a weapon if you work hard and believe in yourself. Even this delightfully curly straw."
"Please," said Eva, "don't feel the need to demonstrate."
Deadpool removed his mask to take a sip of the drink and, in doing so, revealed a mangled mess of a face. He bowed his head as he did so, in a futile attempt to hide the disfigurement in shadow. "I know," he said, "I look like somebody laminated a potato salad. No need to stare."
"I wasn't staring," Eva replied calmly.
"Oh, yes you – wait! Stop turning away from me! You should be staring in horror and appal!" Deadpool protested.
"I'm gonna have to ask you to move away from the counter if you've got your drink, sir."
"This is your USP," Deadpool said, narrowing his eyes at her. "Isn't it? You're too cool to be impressed and-or terrified by super and-or antiheroes such as myself. Well, I bet your author is so proud."
"Here's your cookies, Mr Pool. Don't forget your swords on the way out."
He swept the bag of cookies up with a huff and took an overlong sip from his drink before smacking his lips together. "You make a wonderful coffee, Eva. And your apathy is quite refreshing, if you'll allow me to be so forward. Here, lemme give you an extra tip –" he held the cookies in one arm and reached beneath the waistband of his spandex pants.
"Not necessary!" Eva said hastily. "Please! Don't do that!"
Deadpool grinned. "I hope your next customer's my buddy," he said, "you might wanna give him an adamantium-proof cup, though. Those claws could really puncture the cardboard."
"Goodbye, Mr Pool."
He bowed and skipped out of the shop, picking up the katanas with a flourish as he went. Eva wondered for half a moment how he managed to pronounce all those asterisks, then went back to not caring.
A/N I mean Disney's slow but inevitable crawl to a complete monopoly of the entertainment industry is absolutely terrifying but HEY, AT LEAST MARVEL GET ALL THEIR SUPERHEROES BACK. Also this is somewhat... fringe-canon. Much like Wade himself. Also if you like R-rated things you should go and read my Winter-Soldier/OC fic Seeing The Elephant, which has bloody murder and sexytimes. And now we resume our normal, canon-compliant, non-sweary transmissions.