Awesome Plan Step Four: assassinate provider of cookies.

warnings: slash. violence. Earth-339 (think of it as 'the Waking Man universe'). spoilers, i guess...for Messiah War. language: r (primetime tv plus s***, f***, and c**k).

pairing: Nate/Wade, Stryfe/Wade, reference to Nate/Neena.

timeline: 3922, two days after Nate and Hope arrive in Earth-339.

disclaimer: marvel owns Cable & Deadpool, disney owns marvel.

notes: 1) the title is, of course, a Hitchhiker's Guide reference. 2) i toyed very briefly with having Wade start gloating before he hacked off Stryfe's head, but he should be old enough by now to know better. 3) poor Bish. he really does believe he's doing the right thing. it's delightfully twisted, and if it didn't cramp Wade's style so much, i might feel sorry for him. 4) isn't it great that Marvel can't seem to decide several things about Nate's tech? example A: the extent of the TO infection. way back in the old issues of X-Force, it took up almost exactly half of his body, but various more recent stuff only shows it going to his waist. i guess he could have synthskin on his leg, like he does for his face. *shrug* example B: where his timeslide module is - probably wasn't part of Greymalkin, the way the bodyslide matrix was, so maybe it's tucked away in the TO? after all, why have a bunch of computer-bits for half your body if you can't at least store some extra techno-gizmos in there? (reminds me of the time Feral wanted to put a slurpee dispenser in Nate's arm XD) i digress (as usual). for the sake of maintenance (and narrative convenience), most of the timeslide components are in accessible parts of Nate's arm/shoulder. because i'm the author and i said so. *lmao* 5) i imagine the rescue crew is in a state of mild shock. "all right, we've gotta go to war with Stryfe to make sure that Hope-what, it's over already?"

So Long, and Thanks for All the Cookies

It was a complete mystery how, even with thorough planning, things always got away from Wade.

Somewhere between the front door and the throne room, Five Stupid People Unaware of Wade's Awesome Plan™ managed to screw things up fantastically. The only way it could have gone worse is if Stryfe had decided he needed to change out of his PJs to squish Nate like a bug.

There was some gloating, some cackling, a rehash of the old 'no, you're the clone' argument, some 'what did you do with Hope,' and, for flavor, a pinch of 'now we're going to kill you.'

Needless to say, the moment Team Dumbass opened their big fat mouths, Wade switched on his stealth module and bounced out of harm's way to watch the train wreck take its course, hoping futilely that it was all a bad dream, and he'd wake any minute now to find that his plan had worked beautifully and he'd passed out from celebratory glee.

…yep, aaaaaany minute now…

He hovers near the door with a sword in his hand, perfectly still, and calmly watches the proverbial shit hitting the fan (he entertains a brief mental image of cartoon-Neena flying through a cartoon fan that has Stryfe's cackling face on it). The fight is less than impressive, for a five-on-one brawl, and Wade craves cheesy puffs and a soda, but he remains motionless, not even blinking in case he misses the moment. He lets all the normal, absent musings and dark humor flutter through his brain even as he watches, because he doesn't know for sure whether Stryfe can hear any of his thoughts, and it would suck if he were caught actually paying attention for once.

"Where the hell is Wade?" yells Neena, flipping backward to avoid Stryfe's fist.

"Over there somewhere," grunts Logan. He ducks as Jimmy is sent flying over him. "Just standin' there."

Stryfe laughs. "Enjoying the show, my pet? Why not join us?"

Wade waves his hand, even though Stryfe's back is turned and Wade's optical camo is on. "That's okay, sugarplum," he says. "I hogged all the fun of getting them here—I figured you'd want to joy of bashing Nate's head in all to yourself. But lemme know if these wimpy mortals turn out to be too much for you, and I'll come to your rescue."

Logan swears, and Laura mutters something unpleasant about twelve claws. Nate just takes it all in stride—like he expected it, or maybe like he knows Wade is just waiting (and Wade dares to hope that Nate knows him that well, trusts him that much).

And it's agony, just waiting—but Q and Eight-ball have warned him time and again not to act until the perfect moment, or he'll be throwing away all the years of planning (and probably the lives of Nate and Neena and Laura and their skippy little superhero pals).

Then Stryfe flings Neena into Laura, throws Logan into Jimmy, reaches down to grab Nate by the throat, lifts him up…

Wade springs into motion, blade outstretched, and strikes.

Very slowly, Stryfe's head slides off his shoulders.

"Surprise, honey!" Wade says, flipping his sword to flick blood off the blade and deactivating his stealth module with his free hand. "That's from Q, as a thank-you for multiple counts of kidnapping, extortion, and murder. Like it? I thought you would. By the way, I want a divorce. I'm taking the house and the kids, you can keep the dog and the car. So long, and thanks for all the fish."

There is awkward silence from the others.

"Wade?" Nate coughs, rubbing at his throat.

"Huh," says Logan. "Not bad, Wilson."

Wade shrugs. "The only thing more fun than being a double agent is being a triple agent." He kicks Stryfe's head, watches it bounce satisfyingly across the floor. "And that's for that stunt eight years back when you pretended to be Nate for a whole fuckin' day. Prick."

"Let's go get Hope," Neena says, limping over.

He draws Eight-ball from its pouch. "Eight-ball, is the armory still secure?"

~The Quartermaster says that subject designate Lucas Bishop MP619-Delta is attempting to breach the armory now. So far he has insufficient energy reserves to melt the blast doors.~

"Fabulous!" Wade cheers, and leads the way down the hall. "Can Q remotely program Bishop's timeslide module?"

~Of course. Forge, multiple subject designations, was the originator of sliding technology. Since combined computerization, the Quartermaster has improved the timesliding process considerably, enabling such advanced techniques as lateral—or inter-timeline—timesliding.~

"How the hell does that thing know so much?" Neena grumbles as they follow him to a lift.

Eight-ball blinks red and beeps. ~This 'thing' is a very sophisticated probability calculation node, subject designate Neena Thurman WM339,~ it reproaches. ~And if this 'thing' possessed more than a very limited simulation of will, it could change the course of a hundred-thousand timestream bundles.~

Wade sticks his tongue out at Neena and steps off the lift.

Eight-ball beeps again. ~Chronometrically displaced subjects have arrived at the armory and are exacerbating the situation. The Quartermaster estimates that subject designate Lucas Bishop MP619-Delta will achieve the energy supply necessary to penetrate the blast doors in approximately forty seconds.~

"And now the question is where to send him," Wade sighs. "Where, where, where… We could stick him in a world with Apocalypse, that would serve that cock-blocking, baby-killing bastard right."

"Wade," Nate chides from somewhere behind him.

Wade pouts, but keeps walking. "C'mon, Nate, where's your sense of vengeful malice? Or righteous anger, or whatever… Eight-ball, you've got about a minute and a half to find me a timestream bundle where a Delta iteration of Bishop would do more good than harm."

~Extrapolation in progress…~

"Better than sending him back, anyway," Jimmy mutters.

When they turn the corner that leads onto the hallway in front of the armory, Worthington is blasted into the wall next to Wade.

"This must be the place," he says brightly. "Don't bother getting up, bird-boy."

Bishop turns to them. "Wilson. Well, well, well. I knew you'd betray Stryfe. The other one did, too—it ended badly for him."

"Dude, you spent six months in board meetings with the guy. I was heating his mattress for five hundred and sixty-some years. Don't judge me."

Without even looking, Bishop dodges some weird energy blast from Josh (who is busy doing his Oscar statue impression). "Interestingly enough, I don't. Most people will do whatever it takes to survive, Wilson. Only a few of us have the courage to do what it takes to make the world a better place. You probably have no clue who Hope is… I can assure you from firsthand knowledge that Cable is mistaken about her—whatever he's told you is wrong. I know it sounds evil and cruel, but that little girl has to die, for the sake of all mutantkind."

It makes Wade sick to hear that kind of bullshit justification, but he shrugs and walks over to the melted and singed door and presses the open sequence on the control panel.

"Wade, what are you doing?" Neena hisses.

"Making the world a better place," he replies as the blast doors retract to reveal the armory's interior. Off in a corner is the makeshift bed where Hope has been sleeping, surrounded by the litter of a few meals. Hope is nowhere in sight; probably hiding in the compartment Wade and Q prepped for her.

~Organic presence detected—Wade Wilson, you are accompanied by unauthorized personnel.~

"I sure am," Wade replies, absently juggling Eight-ball from hand to hand. "That'll be taken care of…oh, any second now." It beeps and flashes green.

~A timestream bundle matching provided criteria has been located: 287753-266.~

"Nifty-keen," Wade says. "Q, please escort Mr. Bishop to timestream bundle 287753-266."

Bishop has time to turn and try to draw a gun. "You bas—"

And then he vanishes in a flash of blue-white light.

Wade puts Eight-ball away and waves. "Bye, have a nice trip! Enjoy the in-flight movie! Okie-dokie, Q, you can let the princess out of her hidey-hole while I fix Nate's timeslide module. Then, I think, a quick bodyslide back to where our chronometrically-displaced guests popped in. Wouldn't want them to have to walk far when they get home."

The shutters in the armory retract and a cabinet door swings open. Hope peeks out cautiously, then quickly runs for the nearest person—it happens to be Logan, and he makes a grumpy face before hitching her up onto his hip. Nate, in the meantime, holds forth his techno-organic arm and flexes his fist until a panel opens near his shoulder.

"The control chip's in your brain, though, right?" Wade says as he digs a multi-tool out of his belt and starts prodding the exposed circuitry.

"Nothing wrong with the control chip," Nate replies. "I think it's somewhere in the telemetry circuit, but I haven't exactly had access to a good set of tools or any replacement parts."

Wade glances up at Nate, realizes all at once that they're standing together, companionably, like normal people. Just a guy helping his best friend with an ouchie he can't quite reach. He grins. "Yeah, the chip's half scrap. Q's bound to have a better one, anyway."

He goes over to the drawer that he knows holds timeslide maintenance gear and grabs a shiny new telemetry circuit chip.

~We advise you to be more careful with the module in the future,~ says Q. ~The materials necessary to make timesliding components are extremely rare and difficult to obtain.~

"Yeah, no kidding," Nate sighs.

Wade grins again as he pops the fried chip out—Nate takes it and tucks it into a pouch on his belt (smart move; never know when you might need spare timeslide parts, and a faulty chip's better than no chip in a pinch)—and solders the new one into place. He checks all the connections, steps back with a nod. "Good to go."

~Executing bodyslide by ten to gridsquare 8F.~

An instant later, they are standing at the intersection where Neena and her team arrived.

"Huh," says Jimmy. "That didn't go at all how I'd expected it to."

Wade gives him a thumbs-up. "All according to Wade's Awesome Plan. You can thank me later. Or…earlier, technically. I'll just wander over here, in case Neena 'n Nate feel like sucking fa—uh, making embarrassing goodbyes." Because if they're planning to suck face, he definitely doesn't want to have to see it (especially after having Bishop throwing a monkey wrench in his sex life for six months on end). So he retreats to a tactful distance and turns away.

Fortunately, no making out ensues.

Nate comes over to talk to him. The conversation passes in a blur of pain, nostalgia, and babbling on Wade's part. But then he remembers that Hope is coming, and the world doesn't look quite so shitty anymore.

"Take care of yourself, Wade," Nate says, shaking Wade's hand. "And keep hoping, all right?"

Yeah, he can do that. He grins. "You had me at 'hello.'"

.End.