harmless | darcy + power of social media (part two, ft. deadpool)
“So where can I find this Darcy Lewis, oh great voice in the sky?”
Wade, for the thousandth time, no.
“But look! Just look!” Wade shook the newspaper at the sky, the headline bold and large above an image of a girl cradling a small boy. “ ‘NOT YOUR AVERAGE SUPERHERO.’ That’s supposed to be mytitle!”
Merc with a Mouth is your title, Wade. Now stop whining, for God’s sake.
“Whining?” He paused, and then his lips curled up, his scars stretching as he grinned. “Oh dear Writer, you have no idea.” He twisted his mouth into a lip-quivering pout, tears pooling in his eyes.
Oh, Wade, don’t –
“BWAAAAAAAA!” He let out a howling cry, banging his fists on the walls in true toddler tantrum fashion. “I WANT DARCY!”
Oh for the love of God.
“DARCY, I WANNA MEET DARCY – “
Wade, I’ll write you some chimi –
“Chimichangas?” He stilled, looking tempted, but then shook his head. “NO! NO CHIMICHANGAS, I WANT DARCY, DA – ”
Wade, please – !
“I WANT DARCY, I WANT I WANT – ”
FINE! Fine, you can meet her, just SHUT UP!
“Really?” Wade’s tears disappeared, and he smiled brilliantly. He pulled on his mask, grabbing his katana, and struck a pose. “Okay, I’m ready; write me in with the Bifrost!”
… excuse me, write you in with what?
“Send me with the Bifrost, I want to make good impression!” He gestured to himself, then re-assumed his pose. When seconds ticked by, he inhaled deeply, and shouted, “HEIMDALL, OPEN THE BIFROST!”
Oh for fuck’s sake.
He watched in glee as a column of light surrounded him, searing into the rooftop where he was relaxing and incinerating the remains of the chimichanga wrappers lying around. “Writer, you’re the best!”
… the things I do.
“ – the fuck?” Clint squinted at the Bifrost bridge burning into Stark’s landing pad. “We expecting company?”
Steve looked equally baffled. “Not that I know of…”
Darcy looked curious, trying to surreptitiously sneak a peek by looking over shoulder, but the sharp snap of her name had her refocusing on the redhead guiltily.
“I am not done, Darcy,” Natasha warned, and Darcy cowed under her glare.
“I said I’m sorry, Tasha!” Darcy whined, “but I couldn’t just leave that kid there – ”
“There are police for specific reasons,” Natasha interrupted, “namely, so civilians do not have to risk themselves in hostage and robbery situations.”
“But I – ”
“Aww, lay off her, Nat-Nat.” A muscled arm curled around Darcy’s shoulders, and Darcy let out a shriek before pivoting and kicking the strange man next to her in the balls.
“Oh fu—uck!” The man in red and black squealed, hands cupping his groin as he collapsed to his knees, groaning.
“What the actual fuck, dude?!” Darcy screeched, as Natasha grabbed her by the arm and yanked her back. Steve pushed her behind him, stepping up next to Natasha with a frown, but Clint was just watching the proceedings with casual disinterest, calmly drinking his sixth cup of coffee.
“Wilson?” Natasha’s eye twitched. “How the hell did you catch a ride on the Bifrost?”
“So much pain,” the man croaked, curling into a fetal position, and while Steve looked a little worried Natasha looked unamused. “I… I can’t… the light is so beautiful…”
“Wilson, don’t make me shoot you in the head,” Natasha deadpanned, and in a blink the man was on his feet, laughing.
“Oh Nat-Nat, you crack me up,” he giggled, ignoring Steve’s confused look and Natasha’s gradually darkening expression in favor of waving enthusiastically at Darcy, who was peeking at him from around Steve’s torso. “Hi, Darcy Lewis!”
Darcy blinked. “Erm, hello weird dude in red.”
“You like?” He spread out his arms, doing a little shimmy, before leaning in a little, his hand cupped around his mouth as he whispered, “It’s so bad guys can’t see me bleed.”
Natasha stepped between them, scowling. “Steve, take Darcy down to – ”
“No, you can’t!” The man looked frantic. “I came here for Darcy Lewis! I turned down free chimichangas just so I could come and meet her!” Despite wearing a mask, the guy looked like he was going to burst into tears.
“Me?” Darcy pulled her arm out of Steve’s grip, cocking her head to the side curiously. “What for?”
“This!” The man pulled a newspaper out of nowhere, and Darcy groaned when she saw the blown up image of her on the page. “You just looked so pretty and badass that I got the Writer to let me meet you!”
You say that like you asked oh so nicely .
“Like I told you, the crazy ones come first,” Natasha muttered, and Darcy sent her a withering glance.
“Crazy?” The man looked unoffended, if anything, he looked gleeful. “Oh Nat-Nat, you say the nicest things…”
“Don’t. Call. Me. That.” Natasha gritted her teeth, her hands curling into fists.
“Nat-Nat?” The man giggled – legitimately giggled, like a little schoolgirl – and Natasha’s expression could burn ice. “Nat-Nat-Nat, Nat the Cat, Natty-Nat – ”
“So, who are you exactly?” Darcy interrupted, hoping desperately to get the guy to leave before Natasha murdered him, and the man grinned.
“Wade Wilson, a.k.a Deadpool, a.k.a. Not Your Average Superhero. At your service, milady!” he said gallantly, bowing to her as if she were royalty. He stood back up, and winked. “But you can call me Wade.”
Wade, I already said… you know what, I give up.
Darcy couldn’t help the smile that rose at his antics. “And… uh, Wade, what do you do?”
“I get paid to kill people!” he said brightly, “but only really bad people. Like evil spirits and puppy killers.”
“… sounds like you’re a hero?” Darcy blinked. So did Steve, and Natasha’s eye twitched.
“That I am, Darcy, that I am,” he said sagely. “And with such a public reputation for doing good, I thought I’d offer my expertise in managing your feats of heroism!”
“That’s it, you’re leaving,” Natasha snarled, but when she reached towards Wade he danced out of her reach, tutting.
“Now, now, Nat-Nat,” he scolded. “Don’t you know it’s rude to speak for other people? That’s what Writer told me once!”
That’s not what I … never mind.
Wade turned to Darcy expectantly. “So?”
“Er… sure?” Darcy wilted under the force of Natasha’s glare. “He’s a hero, that’s what he said. What’s the harm?”
“He’s a mercenary, Darcy,” Natasha said in disapproval, glaring at Wade as he waved at her cheerfully.
“Well, everyone’s got to earn a living?” Purposefully ignoring Natasha’s absolutely terrifying glare with the ease of practice and over-exposure, Darcy smiled at Wade carefully. “So, you like chimichangas? I know a place?”
He perked up, hopeful and alert. “Maritza’s?”
Darcy nodded solemnly. “Anywhere else would be blasphemous.”
Wade looked up, eyes worshipful and adoring. “She is perfect,” he whispered reverently. ”Thank you!”
The next time you throw a tantrum, I’m locking you in a room with all your ex-wives.
“Yes, ma’am!” He saluted, and before anyone could blink he was out the door, Darcy tossed over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry as he whistled a cheery tune.
Steve blinked. “Will she be…?”
“Eh.” Clint waved his hand. “Wade has a soft spot for Mexican food and pretty girls. He’s mostly harmless.”
Steve blinked. “He just talked to the air.”
“Like I said,” Clint shrugged, “Mostly harmless.”
Natasha’s eye twitched, glaring daggers at the door, and Steve just sent her a wary look before inching away. Clint just poured more cereal into his milk, and continued to eat his breakfast as Natasha stalked out after them, muttering curses under her breath.
“That went well,” Clint remarked. “Usually Wade’s on the floor with a bullet in him by now.”
“ ‘Well?’ ” Steve looked at him, then at the door, and asked weakly, “Is that what happened?”
“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, Cap,” Clint said, patting Steve on the shoulder. “Just roll with it.”