A Protection Agreement [Deadpool]

[argent]

James paced back and forth in his lounge, checking his golden Rolex every twelve-and-a-half seconds. It was two-oh-one-forty-one. His contact was late. By one minute and forty-three seconds. He kept looking over his shoulder nervously, as though he expected Quicksilver or any of his friends to burst through the windows and demand another check for six million dollars any moment.

Though he was on the verge of committing himself into a mental institution, this meeting was important. He heard that the man he was meeting was supposed to be one of the most skilled mercenary mutants in the world. Though James heard that he wasn't exactly mentally stable... But he knew how do do his job, so James hoped he would do just that.

James had his bodyguards in the other room, though he wasn't sure that they could do anything even if something happened. James was sure that-- Suddenly, a knock at the door. Straightening his clothes- slacks, a white shirt and a tie- he walked up to the door, took a deep breath and opened it.

[Wade "Deadpool" Wilson]

Apparently he had connections.

He didnt even know why people kept talking about him. Maybe because he was the best at what he did, maybe because he was just the most annoying at what he did. But his normal job as a bounty hunter, or mercenary, whatever, occasionally got him involved with other requests.

Some requests were strange. Once he had been paid a few grand to escort some super hero's senile grandma to the grocery store. She made for great conversation. Sometimes the requests were unrelated to his field entirely. He had served as a juggalo for some female superhero once... He forgot who, but in the end he didn't even ask for payment, though he still found it wired into his account the next morning. Hey, getting paid AND having awesome sex with what amounted to supermodels? It was a good life, anyway.

So this request wasn't too strange. Meet some kid in his apartment who needed defending for a while. Super defending. And... One who knew how to have fun.

Ding dong!

Or knock knock... Whatever it was, he came into the room, walking past the lame looking secretary in the white shirt, tie, and slacks. In the other room were some shady looking characters who immediately reached for their guns. Deadpool knew an ambush when he saw it, so he pulled out his Uzi and blew their heads off, painting that particular room with a red spray.

He didn't know where the guy he was supposed to defend was, but he suspected the man had already been kidnapped. He searches the other rooms to make sure. Nope, only the sick-looking intern. He grabbed the wimpy temp by the arm and ran towards the window.

"I don't know who the fuck you are, but I gotta get you to safety. Either I have no client or he's been kidnapped. Hate it when this happens."

And then he jumped out the window, the glass shattering into a million shards as he rocketed through.

While drama was fun, he teleported down to the ground.

This all happened in maybe sixty seconds, more or less.

[argent]

Everything happened so fast that James didn't react for several seconds. A man in a red and black costume walked in, walked past him to the room with his bodyguards, killed them all, came back, grabbed James, forced him out of the window still holding on, and then suddenly he was on the ground. People mostly didn't notice; a few people made double-takes, but nothing more.

"...What." Is all that James could say at first. Then everything processed, and he jumped and shouted at the same time. Realizing what was going on now, he said to the man, "Did you just kill my bodyguards?!" he shouted. "I was your client!"

Realizing that everyone and their mother was looking on, he adopted a sheepish grin. "Er, maybe we'd better talk about this in my apartment. And seeing as though you're getting a million dollars just for the interview, I think you might want to just keep it cool."

With that, James headed back up to his apartment. This was certainly interesting, and it had only been two minutes, max. He wasn't sure about this guy, though... And how was he supposed to explain the five dead men to both the building owner and their employers?

[Wade "Deadpool" Wilson]

He.. Ahh... Well uh... This...

They were his... Bodyguards... And he was the client... Then, uh...

Well.

He stood in the street looking around. Finally the glass hit his head. A piece lodged itself in his shoulder. He threw it casually away. A few residents looked at him with a mixture of fear and amusement. He flipped them the bird and teleported back up to the apartment.

Okay. Could he move the bodies before this Jameson character could get there? The blood would be hard, but... Hmm... It was still wet. He turned on the sink. It was one of those that had the sprayer. Anyway, he sprayed down the walls of the room and put all the bodyguards in a closet. He would get them later. He mopped up the floor and by the time Jameson got in, all the blood was cleaned up.

"Okay, so now that I've gotten the job, I'm just gonna take care of these bodies for ya. Sorry about the window," he said as the flustered man entered.

He opened the closet door and the tightly packed bodies fell out like dominos. He grabbed them and activated his teleporter.

He ended up somewhere about four miles off the new york coast, let go of the bodies, and teleported back.

Okay. Interview time. He sat down on the guy's chair and pulled out an apple from god knows where, taking a bite out of it.

"so Jameson, tell me about yourself."

[argent]

Jameson was not as surprised by the fact that this stranger was already in his home by the time he rode the elevator up compared to the fact that the bodies and blood were clean by the time James came up. Of course, the moment he opened the closet, the bodies came out. So he and them disappeared, and he appeared in James' home once more. What...?

What's more, he sat on James' favorite chair, took out an apple, and bit it without having a mouth to do so. "I'm not going to bother to ask how you bit that apple. Anyway, tell me about you, first. Your name, your experience (namely to this particular kind of job), and what you expect from me." He unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled his sleeves up to just before his elbow. Time for business.

Normally James was a little more friendly about things, but this was hardly a normal situation. He decided to be straightforward and businesslike. Not only would things get accomplished, but it would show this guy that his insanity would not be tolerated, at least when it came down to business.

[Wade "Deadpool" Wilson]

He actually wasn't sure about the apple himself. And he wanted to talk about the client first. Bah.

"I am Deadpool, I am the best merc money can buy, and I expect your money and undying love."

He took another chomp off the apple.

"but really. I'm Wade Wilson. I have been a merc for oh, over forth years or so, though I haven't aged a bit. I ain't a mutant. Mutants are born with their gifts. But I am super human. I have more years of experience than most Mercs have of life, and I know everything that your enemies plan ahead of time."

Breaking the fourth wall meant that he always planned everything out, even if it didn't make sense. Once he'd cooked several thousand pancakes only because he knew later in the story they'd serve as a landing cushion for his partner, but... Anyway. Back to this story.

"and I expect your complete trust. If I tell you something Bout a situation, you better listen. If I tell you we gotta go, that means you grab onto me and I teleport the fuck away. If you want, I can leave you somewhere safe, go back, and kill whoever is after you but... That's situational. Also remember the number 2884736. Anyway I also got fear on my side. When I am with ya, no one will want to mess with you."

He could talk a damn storm. He cracked his neck and laid back in the chair even further.

He turned to the client again. "now you."

[argent]

2884736? Strange. However, James had no reason to disbelieve. He was told that this man, Deadpool, was very strange. He was considered insane, but somehow, through the insanity or otherwise, he knew things. He saw the future, he knew things that you somehow didn't. And that made him both the best at what he did, and incredibly frightening.

James nodded. "Understood. But also understand that I am your employer, and if I intentionally and willfully decide to go against what you say, you are to let me do so regardless. If I'm being self-destructive, feel free to get yourself to safety and wait for your final payment.

"Speaking of which, you will have a weekly pay of one million dollars. In the event of my demise or if I decide your services are no longer needed, the final payment shall be increased to ten million dollars, and you're free to move on." James adjusted his tie.

"Now. I'm Jameson Holt. I won the lottery a little more than a year ago, and now I'm probably the most wealthy person around my age in the world. I don't deal in illegal nor even borderline ventures. I'm basically just a kid who beat the odds and played his cards right. But only a week ago, I went to a park- without my bodyguard, though I doubt he'd have ended any way but killed- and I was basically forced by a super-fast mutant named Quicksilver to pay the "Brotherhood" six million dollars, and I'm told that it will happen again.

"Which is why you're here. I have no doubt that he or another of his kind will come back and try to get more, but your job is to stop him or any of his kind from getting near me with hostile intentions. I have no intention to pay them again, and you're here to reinforce my point. Get it?"

[Wade "Deadpool" Wilson]

Jameson Holt. lottery and wise investment. Lots of money, Deadpool gets lots of money, Jameson stays alive, everyone's happy. It was an exchange of goods, of services rendered. That was all. Deadpool's skill for Holt's money. And he would keep breathing. And Deadpool would have more money than he could possibly spend.

Only problem was Quicksilver. That fucker was fast. Deadpool knew him, and they had a sort of mutual respect. Neither one could defeat the other easily. But if Wade knew he was coming, well.. Ha. He could prepare. Quicksilver's greatest advantage was surprise. He killed you before you knew he was there.

The guy had speed, and he had the whole vibrating thing, but... Well, he couldn't predict deadpool's plans.

"quicksilver, huh?"

He needed time to think. The briefcase. He pulled it out of his bag of holding and handed it to Jameson.

"carry this around with you at all times. It is very important that you don't let Quicksilver get a hold of this. If he comes after us, don't give it to him."

Of course the whole point was that quicksilver DID see the case and develop an interest in it. Maybe it was his payment? Ahahahah. Hmm, what else.

He flipped a few buttons on his suit. Okay, everything was ready. Now, they wanted to kill this guy as quick as possible.

How does one attract Quicksilver?

"Want to go get some coffee?"

[argent]

A... briefcase? What was in it? Did James even want to know? Probably not. Deadpool was unpredictable. It was probably a hand or someone's face or something. Of course, there was nothing that James could reason that would be in there that was relevant, so... decoy? Damn, Deadpool knew what he was doing.

"Right, then. Well... first, you gotta lose the jumpsuit. We're going for inconspicuous here, and no offense, but that kind of clothing draws attention. There'a s a bunch of suits in the security room for things like these, so pick one and we'll be on our way."

James stood. He was ready to be done with this. Deadpool was going to make this difficult, even if he was keeping James safe. James had expected a serious, mercenary-type. Not personal, few questions. Get the assignment, get paid, complete the assignment. Most bodyguards were more or less like this. Luckily. Obviously, not Deadpool.

He absently looked at Deadpool while thinking about him. Who was he, even? Did he have a name? James had heard of mercenaries who didn't even think about their names anymore since it'd been decades since they started going by their mercenary names. Which was all well, James supposed, since enemies couldn't get into your personal life. Was that the kind of person Deadpool was? Didn't have a personal life, lived from client to client? That would be terrible...

[Wade "Deadpool" Wilson]

Ahahaha ahaha aha, ha.

Was he serious? When Deadpool was on the job, he didn't take the 24 hour shot that made him look like a normal human being. Rather, at this moment he could easily chop off his hand and have it regrow in ten minutes. It was what made him fearless enough to, say, take the bullet for someone.

Nah, the jumpsuit wasn't going. They wanted as much attention as possible.

Deadpool smiled under his mask. "Naah. We'd only draw more attention that way. This way you got fear on your side. Come on, let's get some coffee." he wanted to kill that fucking silver haired cockblock.

One time he remembered he was in Milan, chatting up a frisky Italian girl, when this fucker started speaking far more fluently than Wade. Fucker was fast... Fast speaking, fast learning, probably fast in bed, though the Italian girl wouldn't know that until maybe an hour later, when he finally got her to leave the bar with him.

Asshole.

Anyway, Jameson obviously didn't know Wade that well.

He took off his mask, showing his client the horribly malformed face beneath.

"Jumpsuit or no suit," he said, "your choice."

[argent]

Wearing a suit here would draw attention? Had Deadpool ever been in public? Like half of the people in New York City wore suits anyway! It would seem that wearing a freaking colored jumpsuit would draw more attention, but... Deadpool was the expert here, James supposed. The fear thing kind of made sense- if Deadpool's reputation in the mutant world was as he'd heard, he'd be better off keeping him wearing something that people would recognize him in. And if Quicksilver saw that he had someone like Deadpool... James hoped it'd have the effect that Deaspool seemed to think it would.

All of a sudden, by way of explanation, Deadpool removed his mask, showing his... less than attractive fast underneath. Though he felt bad after, James took a step back. His face- what happened? James didn't know the difference between heat burns or chemical burns or what, but this was definitely something that was serious. "Oh! Uh, how about we keep the jumpsuit?"

James took a breath. He knew it wasn't good to get to know his bodyguards, since the left all the time and were replaced, but it wasn't like Deadpool would go easily. Though, he couldn't be sure that he'd be around long, anyway... This was something that could either end quickly, or a very, very long time, and James didn't know which it would be.

[Wade "Deadpool" Wilson]

Okay. So they were on the same page about Deadpool's super sexy jumpsuit.

He felt like he ought a explain it. "So. I'm immortal. Regrow limbs and shit like it's nothing. But it comes with a price..." He chopped off his finger with a knife and held it out for the man to see. Yup. Through bone, muscle, tissue and jumpsuit fabric. He tossed it around for a bit.

"I had cancer and these guys offered me a chance to live. Cured my cancer for a while but then it sorta got... Super kick started. So I kinda look like a walking tumor. It's cool, I'm used to it and it means I don't have to worry about anything. No STDs, no getting drunk or hangovers, no dying, no pain."

He put his finger back just the way he had chopped it off. The sinews in his skin reattached themselves first, and worked their way in.

"So I can take a bullet for ya and get up to take five more."

He liked scaring his clients sometimes. People liked to think of him as a zombie, so if they hit his head he'd die. So he demonstrated just how awesome he was by taking his pistol out and shoving the barrel up against his ear.

"Look! Magic!"

Pull the trigger, the bullet shatters your bone and digs a hot hole through your brain matter. If it reacts with maximum force it pushes the matter out and Newtonian physics means it hits the other side of your skull and instead of going through, it bounces. It deflects inside your head and turns your brains into a hot pinkish grey mush that pours out the little hole on the side of your head.

He fell over in the direction the bullet was supposed to go. He writhed on the floor for a bit and stopped. First his rebuilding tissue ejected the bullet, pushing it back out the hole. The brain matter started rebuilding and he could see again, breathe again, think again, and he got up and his skull reformed and he looked at Jameson in the eye with a smirk.

"so basically, I'm the best possible way you could spend your money. The biggest bang for your buck, if you will. Congrats!"

[argent]

Immortality. Regeneration. Re-attach appendages quickly. And of course he cut off his finger to prove it, not that it was necessary. But Deadpool seemed to be made for this kind of job. Not that his teleportation didn't qualify him enough already, but the fact that he could take a full clip to the chest and then break the gunman's neck was pretty damn impressive. Quicksilver could try anything he wanted- shooting, stabbing, dismemberment- and Deadpool would overcome it all. Of course James was still vulnerable, but Deadpool obviously knew what he was going, so he doubted that would happen.

"Mr. Deadpool, I think this will work out very well for us both. If you ever need anything related to the job, don't hesitate to ask. If I can get it, I will." James didn't bother to say that he wouldn't get anything illegal, because he figured he could say no if the question came up. James preferred to operate within the boundaries of the law. Now that he was rich, he had an image to uphold, a standard to set. He'd never done anything too bad- not counting that party sophomore year, but how was he supposed to know about contact highs? He was practically a child!