It was going to be Wades' birthday in a few days and Peter had been wracking his brain trying to think of something special for it. Peter had been horrified to find out Wade and Pool didn't celebrate his birthday, then even more when he found out why.
"I used to celebrate my Dead day, Wade had said when the topic of birthdays came up. "You know, the first day I died."
"Well, not so much celebrated as..." Pool had said and brought a finger gun to his temple and pulled the finger trigger.
"I had a special gun for just that day," Wade had added. "It hurt less than to remember what I had become."
"Baby Doll..." Peter's voice was barely a whisper from his horror.
"It was just a few times, I promise. Then I met you, and then I left you, and you told me not to do that anymore," Wade had said and pulled Peter to him, crushing him in his arms.
Pool had huffed and joined them, hugging Peter from the other side. "Don't be sad, baby boy. Everything's better now."
So Peter was determined to make this the best birthday Wade and Pool had ever had. Easier said than done, though.
Peter was at wits' end to find something that was good enough but then he saw the ad online and his eyes lit up. It would be perfect!! Then he remembered his dire monetary situation and he groaned. He had managed, barely, when Wade was away, because he didn't have to pay rent in Wade's condo. Since Wade had come back, Peter had insisted that he pay half the rent. Shots of Spider-Man and his artsy photos of the city only paid so much and the condo's rent was surprisingly high, even when he only paid half of it. There was also food and electricity to be paid, plus all the supplies for his science projects.
Peter sighed and checked his bank balance online to see how much he could afford to spend on something that would now be a major disappointment to him, even if Wade and Pool never found out his original plan.
"... what?" Peter stared at the balance blankly. How was that possible? He clicked to check his account statement. There was a deposit on his account from Stark Industries for the amount of... That couldn't be right.
Peter's numb fingers pulled his phone to him and he tapped the right contact. "Mr Stark --" he began when the call connected.
"It's standard minimum wage for New York, back dated to that day in Berlin. Plus hazard pay for space. I can't believe you didn't tell me you were starving," Tony said, sounding grumpier than ever.
"I wasn't --! Wade was exaggerating!"
"I believe even less that I have to admit that they were right. Enjoy your hero's wages, kid," Stark said and rang off.
Peter stared at the amount on his account. He'd never had that much money. He flailed, torn between calling Tony back and forcing him to take the money back and weeping with relief that he wouldn't have to hustle so hard from now on just to make ends meet. Of course Wade and Pool would never let Peter starve, hell, it had been a fight to even get him to accept Peter paying half of the rent, but Peter didn't want to be a... a... kept man. Peter cringed at the thought.
Wade and Pool... at least now Peter could afford to get them what he wanted for their birthday. Energised, he clicked around for a few minutes, then slumped with disappointment. Sold out. Still... perhaps there was a way for him to give Wade and Pool a glimpse...
A few days later, the two Wades and Peter were standing in an alley, all in their supersuits.
"Why are we standing here again?" Wade asked. "Not that it isn't fun..." he said, looking around the dull alley.
"Just wait. I don't know if this will work, but... Oh, she's here!" Peter exclaimed, looking at the entrance to the alley.
"Who is --" Pool said and turned to look. His jaw dropped open.
"What are you --?" Wade asked and was struck dumb.
The woman walked toward them, talking to a short man. "I don't understand why I have to do a rehearsal. I have done thousands of these shows..." Her voice was iconic.
"It's just for the technical parts of the show--" the aide began when his eyes fell on the two Deadpools, both in their suits and katanas and he squeaked to a halt.
The woman saw the waiting trio and stopped. Her tall frame had stooped a little with age, but she had the same pewter halo of curls as always and she was wearing something so quintessentially herself that Peter would have recognised her even if he hadn't seen her face.
"Oh. My. God!" Wade squealed and made a beeline to her, stopping to hover in front of her, wringing his hands.
"I can't believe it! Ms Arthur! I'm your biggest fan!" Pool said, his posture identical to Wade's, both slack jawed behind their masks.
"I'm your biggest fan! I adore you!" Wade cried and dropped to his knees, reaching out for ms Arthur's hand, which Pool instantly copied.
"What the hell...?" ms Arthur swore, startled to be suddenly accosted by two large, dangerous looking men, both clad in red and black leather.
"I'm so sorry ms Arthur, they're just so excited to meet you," Peter said softly.
Ms Arthur finally noticed him and did a double take. "Spider-man? You know these... gentlemen?" She tried to extradite her hands to no avail. Each hand was held gently but firmly by one of the men, both still making high pitched noises of adoration at her.
"They're harmless, honest," Peter said with as much warmth and authority as he could.
Ms Arthur was a class act and she had a spine of steel. "What is your name, young man. Men," she corrected.
"I'm Deadpool, ma'am," Pool whispered reverentially and bowed.
Wade smacked him on the hip. "Wade Wilson, at your service, ma'am."
"Ms Arthur, 10 minutes to rehearsal," her aide reminded him.
"You have to go," Wade exclaimed and dropped her hand which he had been stroking reverentially.
"Where are you going?" Pool asked, looking like it was Christmas and puppies and rainbows all at once.
"Ms Arthur has a stage show tonight. I tried to get you two tickets, honestly I did, but it was apparently sold out in minutes..." Peter said.
"It's alright baby boy, this has been more than I could ever have imagined," Wade said, practically thrumming with excitement.
"I want to show you your namesakes --" Pool started.
"No!" Peter cried.
"No?"
"Absolutely not," Peter said firmly.
Bea Arthur frowned, then took a step toward the stage door. "It has been... hmmm," she said and walked through the door the terrified aide was holding open.
Pool flopped to the ground and rolled around, squeeing.
Wade hugged the building. "She's in there," he whispered with awe.
The door opened again and a bored looking stagehand came out and looked at the two Wades. "Wow. Um, I have two tickets here for a mr .. ah, Pool? And a mr Wilson?"
"Tickets?" Pool repeated, lifting his head from the ground.
"Tickets?" Wade repeated.
"Our goddess sent us tickets??"
"The show starts in an hour. It's black tie," the stage hand said, looking disdainfully at the red and black leather costumes. New Yorkers had had a crash course in superheroes and super villains and nothing much fazed them these days.
Wade gave a high pitched squeal and snatched the tickets from his hand. "Thank you!"
Pool grabbed one of the tickets from Wade then turned to Peter. "Webs, we need to go change!"
Half an hour later at the same safe house Wade had taken Peter to before his birthday party, two Wade's twirled in front of Peter.
"What do you think?" Wade was wearing an immaculate tuxedo over his Deadpool suit which was only showing at his hands and the mask.
Pool twirled, the full length ball gown fanning out in graceful folds, revealing his 6 inch silver strappy sandals, the soft blue chiffon clashing with his Deadpool costume, which he still wore underneath. "Do you think it's too much?" he asked anxiously.
"You look ravishing, both of you," Peter said honestly. "But maybe leave the katanas and guns?"
"Good call," Pool said and started stripping off his weaponry. "Ruined the lines of my dress, anyway," he muttered. Beside him, Wade was doing the same, both pulling out more weapons that could reasonably be expected to be hiding in a practically skin tight suits and placed them carefully on the bare floor.
"Go," Peter said, looking at them both fondly. "I'll wait for you at home."
Three hours later the two Wades walked in the condo door. Wade had opened his collar and loosened his tie and Pool held his sandals in one hand and a duffel bag which Peter was sure held their weapons in the other. They got inside and pulled their masks off.
"How was it?" Peter asked them, even though the rapturous looks on their faces was enough of a response.
"It was amazing," Wade sighed ecstatically.
"She's so funny, so smart, I can't believe we got to meet her," Pool fanboyed.
"Where did you get the roses?" Peter asked and they both sighed happily.
"We had seats in the front row," Wade said, awed. "We gave her a standing ovation at the end of her show --"
"-- and I was kicking myself that we didn't think to bring her flowers--"
"-- but she got so many flowers and she --" Wade was overcome.
"-- she picked two roses and threw one to each of us," Pool said and swooned.
"I'm so happy for you. Which reminds me, happy birthday, Baby Doll," Peter said.
"Huh?"
"What?"
"I wanted to give you two something special for your birthday --"
"It's my birthday?" Wade asked.
"And you remembered? How do you even know?" Pool asked.
"I asked Friday," Peter replied.
"Aww, you did?" Wade cooed.
"This is the best birthday I've ever had. It was worth it, all of it, for today. For you," Pool said and Peter teared up.
Just then the doorbell rang and both Wade and Pool froze, then dived for their weapons bag.
"Easy, it's just dinner," Peter said, trying to pull himself together and opened the door to reveal a delivery boy, who's eyes went round in his head when he saw the spectacle inside. "Uh," he said and thrusted the two bags at Peter, who had to almost force the payment plus generous tip in his hand before he fled.
"Our goddess and tacos with our baby boy on the same day?" Pool said, sniffing the hot, cheesy scents emanating from the bags.
"And chimichangas?!" Wade said, his nose twitching like a rabbit's.
"Only the best for my Baby Doll," Peter said and meant every word.
--
(THE WRITER FLUSHES THE TOILET AND GOES BACK INTO HER STUDY. HER EYES FALL ON HER DESK. THERE IS A PACKAGE THERE THAT WASN'T THERE BEFORE. SHE GASPS AND APPROACHES WARILY. THERE IS A CARD WITH A DRAWING.
SHE EYES THE DRAWING, WHICH, DESPITE THE BARED KATANAS, FAILS TO STRIKE TERROR IN HER HEART. IT'S POSITIVELY CUTE, FOR DEADPOOL. STILL, IT HAS NO BUSINESS BEING THERE, IN HER REALITY.
This isn't possible, SHE SAYS FLATLY.
BUT THERE IT STANDS, THE TALL GIFT BAG. SHE POKES AT IT NERVOUSLY AND DUCKS. NOTHING EXPLODES. SHE STRAIGHTENS NERVOUSLY AND PEEKS IN. IT IS A BOTTLE OF LAPHROIG, HER FAVORITE WHISKY.
How??
THERE IS NO REPLY.
THE WRITER GRABS HER CHAIR AND SINKS INTO IT BONELESSLY. THEN SHE SLOWLY REACHES FOR AN EMPTY GLASS ON HER DESK, OPENS THE IMPOSSIBLE BOTTLE OF WHISKY FROM AN IMAGINARY CHARACTER AND POURS HERSELF A STIFF DRINK. SHE HESITATES A MOMENT, THEN TAKES A SIP.
IT'S DELICIOUS.
In the darkness of their bedroom, punctuated only by the softest, cutest snores, Wade and Pool smile at each other and snuggle in with their sex exhausted boyfriend.
"Best. Day. Ever."
—
A/N:
I edited this chapter a little to end on a high note, dealing with the Dead day at the beginning of the story. Sometimes the good ideas come after you hit "Publish."
Yes, in this universe Bea Arthur (and the other Golden Girls) are all still alive. Bea is still a badass and the queen of Wade and Pool's heart at 97, still doing her stage show.
Main image source: http://fanaru.com/deadpool/image/225215/deadpool-love-picture/
Deadpool and the unicorn source: https://www.pngegg.com/en/png-zvwvn