I Don’t Dance To Dubstep part 3 (A Deadpool Fic)
Part One, Part Two
Here is a deleted scene of dialogue for this chapter if you are interested!
A/N: Okay so the conversation with Cable about the scars isn't intended to be a metaphor for self-harm or hint at bad parenting. Instead, it is meant to be a metaphor for embracing ones perfectly imperfect flaws like stretch marks or cellulite or skin discolouration. In short, it's nothing ominous. Also, this is the longest chapter yet! And don’t mind the fact I inserted myself into the fic, he does like to break that fourth wall of realism that darned Wade Wilson! Readers mutant power given alter ego is DJ, so no ‘Y/N’ in this chapter.
Words: 2399
Warnings: Mature Language,
(Gif isn’t mine)
"Okay be honest, what would you want your stripper name to be?" Wade continued his useless musings with Domino over the comms.
"That's easy: Lady Luck," Domino said without having to think about it.
"Huh… I'd go with Shiklah the Divorcer, abbreviate it to STD." Wade said wryly. There was a larger story behind his words.
"What?" Domino asked, completely oblivious to the context of the STD jeer, although truthfully, no one else seemed to get it either.
"Are we all in position?" asked Wade over the secure channel. Your earpiece felt like nails on a chalkboard due to your ability to focus sound waves. Your head snapped to the side and you made a hissing noise. Cable, who had been partnered up with you shot a concerned look your way. You raised your scarred hands up to signal you were fine.
"We're in position," Cable answered, the feedback from your proximity to each other caused another intense soundwave to vibrate through you. You winced and decided to remove the earpiece. "Won't you need that?" Cable asked you.
You gave a half crooked smile, "That's what you're here for, isn't it? Kick ass, not take names and listen to Wade's annoying voice shouting profane nonsense into your ears?"
Cable hummed, unamused by the image you just painted in his mind, "Unfortunately," he said. He opened his fanny pack- Ahem! His utility bag- and grabbed his lip balm, applying some on with a very serious expression on his face while maintaining eye contact with you. It felt both intimate and weird all at once. You were definitely confused by it. According to Wade, he did that a lot.
You cackled in a dramatic fashion after the eye contact turned from intense to awkwardly silly, filling the empty street with a Wicked-Witch-of-the-West sounding laugh echoing through the empty street. Bored, you used your abilities to amplify the frequency, making the laugh boom louder.
Cable tilted his head as Wade undoubtedly had something to say about your use of your powers for no reason other than boredom, "Wade said to keep it down to the 'sexy octave levels of James Earl Jones'," Cable relayed to you.
You whispered "Fuck you, Wade Wilson," and amplified the sound of your words into an even louder pitch until the glass windows groaned from the intensity and Cable was forced to cover his ears from the sheer volume of it.
"That's not exactly keeping things discrete, DJ, might want to tone it down a bit!" Cable shouted in discomfort, his words drowned out by the frequency of your own.
"Yeah, well we've been sitting in this car park dressed like background characters of a Will and Grace special for two hours now. If she was indeed on her way here, she'd have been here by now!" You huffed.
The two of you were on rear exit duty. If Wade and Domino failed to trap and kidnap the new contract, the two of you would give her a rude awakening. To your annoyance, your target was uncharacteristically tardy today, so for now, all four of you waited, dressed in the most unflattering disguises, staying incognito while stalking around the building your target regularly frequented. It was a Chinese restaurant that acted as a front for an illegal underground gambling ring. Your target was a pill pushing 'Madame' who had a habit of gambling away half her profits.
Cable closed his eyes and leaned against the hood of the car you drove in, it was a taxi, Deadpool had called up his pal Dopinder, who was out on a coffee run, to drive the four of you to the location. You sat cross-legged, shades shielding your eyes from the sun, on top of the warm yellow hood, there was an odd impression on the opposite side of the bumper that looked like the kind of mark someone who had been run over would leave.
Cable was taking slow, thoughtful breaths, not at all bored by the inactivity. You had noticed he always carried a teddy bear everywhere with him, it was quite the juxtaposition to his otherwise serious, brooding default setting. Letting curiosity win over you, you blurted out: "What's the deal with little Osito there?"
Osito was Spanish for bear. You had grown up in a bilingual household. Your mom was the one who prominently spoke Spanish at home, you had an easy time picking it up as a kid.
"What's the deal with the scars on your hands?" He asked, deflecting his personal question by asking you a personal question of your own. Smartass. He thought he had the upper hand, he assumed you wouldn't be comfortable talking about your scars, everyone always assumed that. He was in for a rude awakening!
"Casualty of being such a badass!" you quipped playfully. Cable gave you a small chuckle making you feel like you had just paved through a new milestone in your… acquaintance-ship?
"Is that so?"
"I managed to bring the great Cable to his knees on our first meeting, so yeah, I say so," you smirked proudly at him and he scowled.
"As a kid, my parents didn't understand what I was. I didn't either. I'd cause small quakes when I was angry or sad or happy or excited. Murdered a lot of Mom's fine china. Busted Dad's TV once. Eventually, they couldn't pretend anymore, and I saw how much I scared them. I scared myself if I'm honest. They told me to be normal, stop with all my craziness. I didn't know any better, I didn't know my abilities were as much a part of me as the colour of my eyes or the slant of my nose, so I repressed it. These-" you rotated your hands this way and that, giving Cable a show of spirit fingers, showcasing all the scars and tears from years of cuts and numerous surgeries, "These were the resulting effect. I broke many fingers. Some cases the waves would slice through skin. After my eighth break, I said 'Fuck it!' I began to use my abilities freely and openly. Of course, I was smart enough to know when to be discrete and when to wreak untold havoc upon some asshole who groped my ass in high school. And I haven't looked back ever since."
You had shocked Cable with your candour. You never minded explaining the scars, they were just younger versions of your many battle wounds. They made you what you are -which may not be perfect, but you couldn't give a flying fuck if you didn't conform to societies controlled demographic of normalcy. You were a rebel all your own. You gave Cable a wink, not at all shy or embarrassed that you just spilt private secrets so nonchalantly.
"Jesus," he said, only with less sarcasm then you ever thought him able to muster. "Did you kill him? The Asshole in high school?"
You laughed, amused at his question. He must think you some sociopath. Then again with an apathetic partner like Truth Dog and a habit of shooting up Wade all the time, he might not be wrong. It was still fun though!
"No, I didn't kill him. I used my sonic frequency to shatter all his trophies the school displayed in the trophy case. I may not have seen it, but I know he cried afterwards. Murder isn't the only solution you know. Some days you just have to find what stupid, materialist things people associate with their self-worth and-" You focused a low-frequency sound wave on the car and the window glass shattered in your demonstration, "Apply enough pressure!"
"My CAR!" Dopinder whined from behind you as he raced over to the taxi with his tray of coffees.
"Whoops!" You whispered before pointing nonchalantly to Cable, "He forgot to set his gun to stun. He sneezed and it just went off. Be glad he hadn't had the dial turned up to 11!" You blatantly threw Cable under the bus. He didn't say anything, but you could feel his cool eyes staring at you in less than amused mood. You giggled playfully.
"Yeah, well I hope you can pay for this Mr Cable, because I already have that dent to get out from Mr Pool's joyride when he was drunk that one time and decided to go all GTA on everyone," Dopinder said in his accented tone.
"Put it on my tab," Cable growled, causing Dopinder to gulp, a bead of sweat gathering above his temple.
"On second thought, I'll just put it on Mr Pool's tab. Since he'll… you know, need to use my cab again."
"Did you say something, Mr Roboto?" You heard Deadpool coo over the earpiece at Cable.
"Your coffee is here," Cable said. Through the earpiece, you heard Wade make an excited squealing noise and what sounded like Domino sighing heavily.
Some seconds later, Deadpool and Domino came repelling down a pipe from the roof and rushed over to get their coffees from Dopinder. Domino chose to wear her hair in stylish Bantu Knots, she had said it was a bad hair day, but she looked as flawless as ever. You were afraid you might be in love with her, or maybe it was her hair or the fact she had heterochromia, or at the very least you were maybe little too obsessed with her outfit! Who cared, Domino was plain freaking awesome!
"Give me that sugary goodness," Deadpool said as he kissed Dopinder through his mask and reached for his coffee. He took his mask off halfway, exposing his mouth, and sucked down dramatically on the frothiest, most hideous excuse for a coffee you had ever seen.
Domino grabbed her macchiato and Cable his latte, you were surprised someone all dark and brooding and serious like him would drink anything with milk in it. You grabbed your cappuccino and thanked Dopinder who was drinking a milkshake.
"What the FUCK is this?" Deadpool asked after he finally finished taking his first sip, more like chug. "This isn't the Caramel Macchiato, Venti, Skim, Extra Shot, Extra-Hot, Extra-Whip, Sugar-Free coffee I ordered!" He bellowed loudly.
"Are you sure that thing is even classified as coffee anymore?" Domino quipped after taking a sip of her macchiato.
"Are you sure that thing is even classified as coffee anymore?" Wade mimicked like a four-year-old brat.
"Whatever," Domino said raising her hands in the air and rolling her eyes.
"The real question is: Where is this easy target and big payday you promised me?" You inched closer to Wade with a look that could kill. You blew air in his ear and amplified the inaudible frequency so that it damn near scrambled his brain. He squalled like a crying child with colic and dropped his Starbucks cup, foam and syrup and what little actual coffee there was in it splattered on the hood of the car coating everyone in the sickly sweet liquid except for Domino, by some unfair miracle.
"That's just fucking great!" Cable said in annoyance as he used his free hand to wipe away the frothy foam that covered his chest. You did the same and licked some of the foam off your finger, all the guys ogled you like you were some damn peacock.
"Men!" Domino said in disgust. You giggled as the gleeful feeling of dominating power coursed through you.
"To answer your question, Carrie White," Wade was referring to you.
"Carrie had telekinetic powers, Mr Pool, wouldn't it make more sense to call her Abra Stone, I'm pretty sure if she tried DJ could generate an earthquake too?" Dopinder asked innocently.
"No, Dopinder, what would make more sense would be to call her Black Canary, but given as how that is a completely different comic book universe and the fact that whoever thought up DJ's powers was an unimaginative lout who couldn't think up something cooler than sound manipulation and also thought DJ was an intuitive play on words and abilities, no, I do not think it would be better to call her Abra Stone. Shockwave maybe... but that’s trdemarked by Hasbro, so," everyone looked at Deadpool in confusion. "Anyway! I'm pretty sure she'll show up any minu-" Deadpool was interrupted by the sound of his phone receiving a message.
"Whoops, Ha-ha, forgot to put that on vibrate," Wade wiggled his eyebrows which strained against the tight fabric of his mask, "Ah, it's Weasel, apparently Madam Mayflower… Pffft- Mayflower! Anyway, apparently, she's not coming. She's going somewhere else today. Oooh! It's a Burlesque Club!"
"Well, what's the fucking plan?" Cable asked showing signs of impatience for the first time.
Wade looked over at you, Cable and Domino, his eyebrows clearly raised in mischief behind his mask.
“Now Madonna, Cher and… The Jackson Five,” he pointed to each of you, assigning you with the corresponding singer’s name.
Domino rolled her eyes at being designated as the entire music group of the Jackson Five (it was no doubt a play on the fact she usually wore her hair in an afro).
Wade made sure he used his most diva emulating performance to sell his pitch, “Put on your favourite dancing shoes and wear your skimpiest outfit. Because ladies, we’re going to put on the best burlesque show of our lives!”
“Jesus,” Cable grumbled. You noticed he did that a lot. You wondered if it would ever stop being comical and turn annoying.
Domino raised her hand.
“Yes, Jackson Five?”
“Which 80′s singer are you in this scenario?”
“Why, the legendary Dolly Parton, of course!” Deadpool said gleefully
"What about me Mr Pool?" Dopinder asked feeling a little left out.
"You are Driving Miss Daisy, now common let's go," Wade walked in imaginary heels and sauntered like a runway model to the front seat in the cab.
"That's not even a singer," Dopinder said with a frown.
"Hey, at least you aren't given the title of an entire music group just because of your hair!" Domino said in deadpan.
"Nah, he just got stereotyped as a slow cab driver!" You chimed in before taking your seat in the middle of the cab.
Part Four is HERE!
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As Always: I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I got carried away with this one a little bit. Anyway, if you like this fun little series don’t hesitate to ask to be added to the tag list!!! Also, check out my READER WEEK challenge that will be held on the 27th, Open to all followers!!
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