Two weeks and four nights later, a section of Cortlandt Alley was littered with piles of dust and splintered wood from broken stakes. Buffy brushed a bit of vampire ash off her leather jacket and glanced sideways at her unexpected, and unnervingly chatty, new ally.
"You know, I hadn't taken on backup in…forever, but you...," she looked Deadpool up and down, eyebrow arched, "you're a special case."
Deadpool flicked the remnants of a broken stake away, then tugged his mask back down, looking almost offended. "Special? Sweetie, I'm one-of-a-kind!"
The Slayer sighed, crossing her arms. "It's Buffy. And they're vampires, not Draculas." She leaned on her stake as he deflated slightly. "Dracula is one guy. And he's kind of...extra."
The mercenary shrugged. "Vampire, Dracula, I don't discriminate. And hey, you're always good with the staking. I give that a solid ten on the Van Helsing scale!"
Buffy couldn't help rolling her eyes. "Thanks, I guess. You're improving with…whatever this is," she gestured vaguely to his arsenal of guns, katanas, and other weapons he'd somehow managed to stash on his body.
"Hey, you know Draculas way better than I do, I'll give you that. But you gotta tell me...who's this Faith you've mentioned before? Sounds like a real firecracker."
She raised an eyebrow. "You both have...let's call it, 'issues with authority.'"
"Oh, issues? That's just code for 'she's a blast at parties.' You know, maybe she and I could do a little vamp-stake-and-salsa combo sometime. Get out, hit the cemeteries, light up some Draculas—"
"Vampires," she interrupted. "And don't get your hopes up. Faith. Well, let's just say she's been through enough bad influences."
Deadpool put a hand to his chest, feigning hurt. "Why Buffy Summers, are you implying that I'm a 'bad influence?' Because I'll have you know I'm a very good influence on... well, myself." He dropped his hand and leaned toward her conspiratorially. "But seriously, let's get this Faith chick in on this Dracula-dusting action!"
Buffy shook her head, already imagining the chaos. "Yeah, no. I barely trust you with a stake. I'm not letting you anywhere near Faith. I'm sorry I even brought her up."
He leaned back, crossing his arms, a grin under his mask. "You're just afraid I'll win her over with my unique brand of anti-hero charm."
"Sure," Buffy replied dryly. "I'm sure that'd be it. Now, come on. Less talking, more staking."
Deadpool swung a katana over his shoulder, swaggering alongside her. "Lead the way, Blondie. Maybe afterward we can go for beers and chicken fingers?"
Buffy didn't bother correcting him this time. Somehow, she didn't think he'd ever learn.