Natasha's Day Out (M/F)
Posted: Fri Mar 04, 2022 6:07 pm
At Pier 78 off the North coast of Manhattan, a small cargo ship had been docked in the early morning. But before the cargo could be unloaded, someone snuck onboard and took out all the crewmates. The only person left standing on the boat among the sea of the unconscious bodies was the infamous George Batroc, aka Batroc the Leaper.
He let out a hearty French laugh as he made his way to the ship’s navigation room and grabbed hold of the steering wheel. “Now, to sail zis ship out of ze pier. Zen, all of ze cargo here will be mine!”
Batroc heard someone clear their throat. “The only place this boat is being driven to is the Raft, so I can drop you back off there.”
He looked up to see Natasha Romanoff across the room with her arms crossed, looking more unimpressed than usual. “Ah, ze Black Widow. We meet again! But it is too late, for I am ze captain of zis vessel now!”
“Then on behalf of the crew members you just took out, consider this a mutiny.”
Batroc leapfrogged over the steering wheel. “Enguarde!” was his battle cry as he launched at Natasha with a flying kick, which Natasha blocked. As soon as he touched the floor, Batroc unleashed a trio of kicks that Natasha had to block, flip away from, and sidestep respectively. On the third kick, Natasha managed to grab his leg, spin him around, and try to elbow-drop the back of his leg. But Batroc flipped forwards before she could connect, landing on his feet. He turned around and connected with a high kick on the shoulder, then an elbow to the collarbone. With Natasha stunned, Batroc connected with a thrust kick to the chest that knocked her out of the room, sending her spilling out to the dock.
Batroc followed her out, taunting her with a cocky pose. “If you give up now, Widow, perhaps I will not tie you to ze anchor and toss you overboard.”
“Hey, it’d be a better fate than listening to any more of that accent.”
Letting out a grunt of frustration, Batroc went for another leaping kick. This time, Natasha was ready to catch it and slammed him to the floor. She straddled his hips and landed a few punches to the face before Batroc swung his head up, catching Natasha in the chin. As she staggered back, Batroc kipped up and kicked her in the back of the head, though Natasha didn’t go down completely. He noticed that she was facing one of the cargo boxes. Deciding to go for some style points, he leaped onto the side of the box, waiting for her to get up. When she did, Batroc leaped from the box’s side, corkscrewing his body as he did. But Natasha recovered in time, stuck her foot into his chest as he made contact, and rolled backward, monkey-flipping him across the deck near the bow.
Natasha watched as Batroc pulled himself up and charged at her again. “I’m done with this close-quarters combat crap,” she announced as she launched two electric blasts from her Widow Bite gauntlets. Both blasts connected and Batroc stumbled over the bow, though he instinctively wrapped his legs around the bow’s railings to prevent himself from falling into the water.
Natasha noticed a coil of rope on the deck. She picked it up and walked over to where Batroc was hanging upside down. He tried to pull himself up, only for Natasha to catch his ankles and tie them to the railing. “OK, Batroc, start talking.”
“Talk about what?”
“Talk about you stealing cargo off this ship.”
“You act like zis is, how you say, an ‘anomaly’. I have stolen from a few cargo ships in ze past, have I not?”
“You have. But usually, they’re cargos of weapons or SHIELD gear. But this cargo is nothing but bottles of wine imported from France.”
“I am French. What do you expect?”
“I know you’re French, but I also know you’re not a cheap stereotype. Now, I’m gonna ask you one more time before I drop you head-first into the very clean waters of the Hudson River: why did you try to rob this ship?”
Batroc let out a defeated sigh. “Fine. I was hired by someone to lure you into a fight so that you’d be weakened and easier to capture.”
“That makes more sense. Now, out with it,” she ordered, placing her hand on the knot to intimidate him, “who is hired you?”
“That would be me!”
Something struck Natasha from behind. When Natasha looked down, she now found that she was wrapped from her shoulders to her ankles in duct tape. Startled, she fell onto her back and got a grounded upside-down view of her assailant. “Deadpool?!”
“That’s right, nerds!” Deadpool shouted, holding a duct tape bazooka on his shoulder. “I just shot my large sticky load onto that hot redheaded girl-”
“Wow. Two sentences in and you’re already giving me a heart attack with the innuendos.”
“That’s right, guy who’s writing this! This isn’t gonna be an easy story for you. It’s also not gonna be an easy story for ol’ Natasha here!”
Natasha groaned, already fed up with her apparent captor. “What’s your game, Wade? Shouldn’t you be busy texting Spider-Man eggplant emojis?”
“I would…but he kinda-sorta blocked my number…my email…and my Snapchat account. But that’s not important right now! See, I’ve been tasked by a super-secret client to kidnap you and bring you to them!”
“And who is this secret client of yours?”
Deadpool rolled his eyes under his mask as he walked over to where Batroc was hanging. “Ugh, if I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret, now would it?”
He used his katanas to cut Batroc loose and then pulled him back onto the deck. “Thanks a lot for your help, Frenchy.”
“I told you not to call me zat,” Batroc grumbled. “Now, about your end of ze deal…”
“Yep. All of that wine is now yours. Get down with your bad self, Bastille Boy!”
Batroc shook his head. “No, you said zat you would pay me half a million-”
“Calm down. Earlier, I snuck over here and stashed the money inside that shipping container.”
Deadpool walked over to one of the containers, undid the heavy latch lock, and opened the door. Batroc peeked inside the container, which was partially full of boxed wines. That’s when Deadpool took out his pistol, slammed the butt into the back of Batroc’s head, kicked the now-unconscious crook inside the container, and locked him inside. “Truth be told, I never had the money for Le Loser,” Deadpool explained. “That’s kinda why I took this job. You know, to afford life’s essentials.”
“And those are…”
“Chimichangas, guns, bullets for said guns…”
Natasha rolled her eyes. “Hey, how are you even getting me off this boat to bring me to your clients?”
“Don’t worry about it! That’ll be handled by the ‘oOo’ transition. Here, watch.”
oOo
“See?” Deadpool said as she wheeled a still-taped-up Natasha across the pier on a handcart. “That ‘oOo’ transition worked like a charm! It also allowed me to get this handcart offscreen…or off-word…ah, you know what I mean.”
Deadpool and Natasha made their way to the sidewalk and he waved over a taxi cab. When one pulled over, Deadpool unstrapped Natasha to the cart, shoved her in the backseat, got in himself, and pulled the door shut.
“Greetings, true believers,” the cab driver (an old man wearing black shades) said to them, “and welcome to my cab!”
“Seriously?” Natasha asked the cab driver. “You see a woman wrapped in duct tape and you’re not gonna ask about it?”
“This is New York, lady. This isn’t anywhere near the top ten weirdest things I’ve seen. Now, where are you folks heading?”
“Take us to 5th Avenue,” Deadpool said. “We’re going to the Empire State Building!”
Natasha was surprised. “You’re meeting your clients at one of the most tourist-infested places in the city to hand off a girl you tied up?”
“Huh? Oh, I’m not meeting my clients just yet.”
“What?”
“Yeah, I figured that while I’m here and have you as a captive, why don’t we take a little time to have some fun?”
“Absolutely not.”
“C’mon, Natasha! When was the last time, being a spy and all, you got to tour this great city?”
“I’ll go on a tour, just not with your ass.”
“Too late! You’re coming with me and my ass on what I like to call ‘Natasha’s Day Out’!”
“You’re name-dropping the title? That seems cheap…”
“Yeah? So is the deodorant you’re using. I can smell you through your computer screen!”
“OK, rude…”
“Anyway, cabbie, take us to the Empire State Building!”
The cab driver nodded. “You got it. The cab fare should be about $20.”
Deadpool patted his costume. “Shit, I think I left my wallet in my other outfit. Uh…hang on!”
Deadpool took out a knife and cut away part of the tape where Natasha’s utility belt was. He pulled out her wallet and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. “There you are, my good sir!”
“Hey!”
“Don’t worry, I’ll pay you back.”
“Yeah, he’s not gonna pay you back.”
“That’s true. I don’t plan on it.”
Natasha looked incredulously at the cab driver. “Please tell me you’re not gonna take my money while I’m very obviously being held against my will.”
“Twenty bucks is twenty bucks in this town, miss,” the cab driver shrugged. “Now, buckle up and we’ll get going.”
Deadpool put the seatbelt over Natasha’s lap, replaced the tape area that had been cut, placed a strip over Natasha’s lips to shut her up, buckled himself in, and the cab drove off.
oOo
Deadpool wheeled Natasha through the elevators of the Empire State Building’s 102nd-floor observatory deck. During the ‘oOo’ transition, Deadpool paid the cab driver $30 (from Natasha’s wallet, of course) to stay parked outside while he and Natasha went in so they’d have a ride when they were done. To allay suspicions about Natasha’s conditions, Deadpool applied a paint-job on the tape so that Natasha’s tape wrappings looked like the exterior of the building (“It’s a performance piece,” Deadpool explained to the receptionist at the desk. “It’s a metaphor for how city life can be…restricting! Yes, and…uh…crap. Look, are you gonna sell us tickets for the observation deck or not?!”).
“Hey, good job with the exposition there.”
“I’m blushing…like, you can’t see that I am since this isn’t a visual medium, but trust me, I am.”
“Anyway, this is the top of the Empire State Building, Nat. What do you think of it?”
“Mmtz zmm-pmm. Lmm mmm gmm!”
“No, I will not let you go, Nat-oh, hello?”
A Japanese tourist couple came up to Natasha and started taking photos of her. “Hey, guys…yeah, I’m so glad you like my little art piece. Maybe you wanna get a photo with the artist who made it or…”
The couple, having finished taking their photos, walked towards the elevator. Annoyed, Deadpool ran up to them, held up his hand in a peace sign, and winked. “C’mon, guys! I’m, as you might say, Kawai!”
The male tourist turned to his wife. “Ano supaidāmandesu ka?” (“Is this Spider-Man?”)
“Taimuzusukuea kara no nokkuofu no 1tsu ni suginai to omoimasu. Ikimashou, Kenta. Rojāsu: TheMusical ni okuretakunai.” (“I think it’s one of those knockoffs from Times Square. Let’s go, Kenta. I don’t want to be late for Rogers: The Musical.”)
With that, the couple left. While Deadpool took out his phone to Google Translate what they had said, a worker from the building came up to him. “Sir, we both know that’s not an art project. You obviously tied up that nice girl and are wheeling her around.”
“Uh…she likes getting tied up?”
“Sir, I don’t even think you believe that.”
“Thank God,” Natasha thought. “Finally, someone with common sense. Now, make him let me go!”
Deadpool took Natasha's wallet out and slipped the worker $100. “No, it’s an art project,” he told her, winking.
The worker snatched the bill and placed it in her pocket. “Ah. My mistake, sir,” she winked back.
“Now, we’re at the tippy-top of the building?”
“Well, technically, there’s the antenna-”
“What? Boo! I wanted to go to the tippy-top!”
“I’m sorry, sir. But no one can get up there-”
“Nonsense! Watch this!”
Deadpool took out one of his katanas and cut a giant hole through the observatory glass. Pulling the glass out, Deadpool grabbed the handle of the handcart with one hand and used a knife to begin to climb up the building.
Natasha looked down at the ground below. While she wasn’t afraid (she had been dangled from higher places in the past), she didn’t trust Deadpool not to drop her by accident. “DMM-PMM! GMM MMM DMMM FMMM HMMM!”
“No, we aren’t getting down until I get a pic from all the way up-oops.”
While talking, Deadpool’s grasp on the handcart slipped, sending Natasha and the handcart she was strapped to plummeting 102 stories towards the ground. “DMMM-PMMM, YMMM FMM-KMMG IMM-DMM-MMMT!”
“Shit! Don’t worry, Nat, I got you!” Deadpool announced as he pulled a grappling hook and fired it to ensnare his captive. The grappling hook was a foot away from Natasha…until a taloned foot grabbed the handcart.
Natasha looked up at her apparent rescuer. “Vmm-tmm?”
“How interesting,” Vulture mused, hovering in the sky. “I was going to attack the Empire State Building to lure Spider-Man out so I could kill him. But I think taking such an Avenger hostage will work even better!”
“Hey, I’m the one taking her hostage, Birdbrain!” Deadpool exclaimed as he pulled a jetpack from behind his back and flew towards Vulture.
The villain took off with Natasha. “Get away!” he ordered. When Deadpool didn’t stop, Vulture turned around, pulled out a laser pistol, and started firing. Deadpool zipped around the lasers and tried to close the gap between him and Vulture, but the villain was accelerating.
“Grr…turbo-booster feature on this thing, don’t fail me now,” Deadpool muttered as he pressed a red button on the back of the jetpack. Instantly, he nearly closed the gap between him and Vulture with the sudden speed increase. Now right behind the villain, Deadpool threw the jetpack off and climbed onto Vulture’s back. He pulled a blowtorch from behind his back, cut off one of Vulture’s wings, and threw it down to the city below.
“Argh!” Vulture exclaimed, immediately tilting over due to the lack of balance he was now experiencing. “Fine, if you want her so badly, then take her!”
With that, Vulture dropped the handcart, sending Natasha plummeting to the ground again. Deadpool hopped off Vulture’s back and went after her while the villain retreated. Breast-stroking through the air, Deadpool caught up to Natasha, unstrapped her from the handcart, and picked her up into his arms. “There, I got you!”
“STMMM FMM-MMG!”
“‘Still falling’? Right, crap…uh…hey, guy who’s writing this, maybe you wanna…”
“Ugh, fine.” *type-type-type*
As luck would have it, just underfoot, a man was getting a ticket written for setting up a large and reinforced trampoline on the sidewalk. “For the last time, sir,” a cop informed the man, “you need a trampoline permit in this city.”
Deadpool and Natasha hit the trampoline and bounced high in the air. “Whee!” Deadpool exclaimed as he flipped through the air and landed on his feet. Moments later, he caught Natasha in his arms.
“So,” Deadpool asked, “where should the day take us next?”
oOo
Back on the cargo ship, Batroc had just woken up from the blow to his head. He pulled himself up to his feet and realized where he was. He banged on the inside of the crate. “Hello? Deadpool? Widow?”
To Be Continued…
He let out a hearty French laugh as he made his way to the ship’s navigation room and grabbed hold of the steering wheel. “Now, to sail zis ship out of ze pier. Zen, all of ze cargo here will be mine!”
Batroc heard someone clear their throat. “The only place this boat is being driven to is the Raft, so I can drop you back off there.”
He looked up to see Natasha Romanoff across the room with her arms crossed, looking more unimpressed than usual. “Ah, ze Black Widow. We meet again! But it is too late, for I am ze captain of zis vessel now!”
“Then on behalf of the crew members you just took out, consider this a mutiny.”
Batroc leapfrogged over the steering wheel. “Enguarde!” was his battle cry as he launched at Natasha with a flying kick, which Natasha blocked. As soon as he touched the floor, Batroc unleashed a trio of kicks that Natasha had to block, flip away from, and sidestep respectively. On the third kick, Natasha managed to grab his leg, spin him around, and try to elbow-drop the back of his leg. But Batroc flipped forwards before she could connect, landing on his feet. He turned around and connected with a high kick on the shoulder, then an elbow to the collarbone. With Natasha stunned, Batroc connected with a thrust kick to the chest that knocked her out of the room, sending her spilling out to the dock.
Batroc followed her out, taunting her with a cocky pose. “If you give up now, Widow, perhaps I will not tie you to ze anchor and toss you overboard.”
“Hey, it’d be a better fate than listening to any more of that accent.”
Letting out a grunt of frustration, Batroc went for another leaping kick. This time, Natasha was ready to catch it and slammed him to the floor. She straddled his hips and landed a few punches to the face before Batroc swung his head up, catching Natasha in the chin. As she staggered back, Batroc kipped up and kicked her in the back of the head, though Natasha didn’t go down completely. He noticed that she was facing one of the cargo boxes. Deciding to go for some style points, he leaped onto the side of the box, waiting for her to get up. When she did, Batroc leaped from the box’s side, corkscrewing his body as he did. But Natasha recovered in time, stuck her foot into his chest as he made contact, and rolled backward, monkey-flipping him across the deck near the bow.
Natasha watched as Batroc pulled himself up and charged at her again. “I’m done with this close-quarters combat crap,” she announced as she launched two electric blasts from her Widow Bite gauntlets. Both blasts connected and Batroc stumbled over the bow, though he instinctively wrapped his legs around the bow’s railings to prevent himself from falling into the water.
Natasha noticed a coil of rope on the deck. She picked it up and walked over to where Batroc was hanging upside down. He tried to pull himself up, only for Natasha to catch his ankles and tie them to the railing. “OK, Batroc, start talking.”
“Talk about what?”
“Talk about you stealing cargo off this ship.”
“You act like zis is, how you say, an ‘anomaly’. I have stolen from a few cargo ships in ze past, have I not?”
“You have. But usually, they’re cargos of weapons or SHIELD gear. But this cargo is nothing but bottles of wine imported from France.”
“I am French. What do you expect?”
“I know you’re French, but I also know you’re not a cheap stereotype. Now, I’m gonna ask you one more time before I drop you head-first into the very clean waters of the Hudson River: why did you try to rob this ship?”
Batroc let out a defeated sigh. “Fine. I was hired by someone to lure you into a fight so that you’d be weakened and easier to capture.”
“That makes more sense. Now, out with it,” she ordered, placing her hand on the knot to intimidate him, “who is hired you?”
“That would be me!”
Something struck Natasha from behind. When Natasha looked down, she now found that she was wrapped from her shoulders to her ankles in duct tape. Startled, she fell onto her back and got a grounded upside-down view of her assailant. “Deadpool?!”
“That’s right, nerds!” Deadpool shouted, holding a duct tape bazooka on his shoulder. “I just shot my large sticky load onto that hot redheaded girl-”
“Wow. Two sentences in and you’re already giving me a heart attack with the innuendos.”
“That’s right, guy who’s writing this! This isn’t gonna be an easy story for you. It’s also not gonna be an easy story for ol’ Natasha here!”
Natasha groaned, already fed up with her apparent captor. “What’s your game, Wade? Shouldn’t you be busy texting Spider-Man eggplant emojis?”
“I would…but he kinda-sorta blocked my number…my email…and my Snapchat account. But that’s not important right now! See, I’ve been tasked by a super-secret client to kidnap you and bring you to them!”
“And who is this secret client of yours?”
Deadpool rolled his eyes under his mask as he walked over to where Batroc was hanging. “Ugh, if I told you, it wouldn’t be a secret, now would it?”
He used his katanas to cut Batroc loose and then pulled him back onto the deck. “Thanks a lot for your help, Frenchy.”
“I told you not to call me zat,” Batroc grumbled. “Now, about your end of ze deal…”
“Yep. All of that wine is now yours. Get down with your bad self, Bastille Boy!”
Batroc shook his head. “No, you said zat you would pay me half a million-”
“Calm down. Earlier, I snuck over here and stashed the money inside that shipping container.”
Deadpool walked over to one of the containers, undid the heavy latch lock, and opened the door. Batroc peeked inside the container, which was partially full of boxed wines. That’s when Deadpool took out his pistol, slammed the butt into the back of Batroc’s head, kicked the now-unconscious crook inside the container, and locked him inside. “Truth be told, I never had the money for Le Loser,” Deadpool explained. “That’s kinda why I took this job. You know, to afford life’s essentials.”
“And those are…”
“Chimichangas, guns, bullets for said guns…”
Natasha rolled her eyes. “Hey, how are you even getting me off this boat to bring me to your clients?”
“Don’t worry about it! That’ll be handled by the ‘oOo’ transition. Here, watch.”
oOo
“See?” Deadpool said as she wheeled a still-taped-up Natasha across the pier on a handcart. “That ‘oOo’ transition worked like a charm! It also allowed me to get this handcart offscreen…or off-word…ah, you know what I mean.”
Deadpool and Natasha made their way to the sidewalk and he waved over a taxi cab. When one pulled over, Deadpool unstrapped Natasha to the cart, shoved her in the backseat, got in himself, and pulled the door shut.
“Greetings, true believers,” the cab driver (an old man wearing black shades) said to them, “and welcome to my cab!”
“Seriously?” Natasha asked the cab driver. “You see a woman wrapped in duct tape and you’re not gonna ask about it?”
“This is New York, lady. This isn’t anywhere near the top ten weirdest things I’ve seen. Now, where are you folks heading?”
“Take us to 5th Avenue,” Deadpool said. “We’re going to the Empire State Building!”
Natasha was surprised. “You’re meeting your clients at one of the most tourist-infested places in the city to hand off a girl you tied up?”
“Huh? Oh, I’m not meeting my clients just yet.”
“What?”
“Yeah, I figured that while I’m here and have you as a captive, why don’t we take a little time to have some fun?”
“Absolutely not.”
“C’mon, Natasha! When was the last time, being a spy and all, you got to tour this great city?”
“I’ll go on a tour, just not with your ass.”
“Too late! You’re coming with me and my ass on what I like to call ‘Natasha’s Day Out’!”
“You’re name-dropping the title? That seems cheap…”
“Yeah? So is the deodorant you’re using. I can smell you through your computer screen!”
“OK, rude…”
“Anyway, cabbie, take us to the Empire State Building!”
The cab driver nodded. “You got it. The cab fare should be about $20.”
Deadpool patted his costume. “Shit, I think I left my wallet in my other outfit. Uh…hang on!”
Deadpool took out a knife and cut away part of the tape where Natasha’s utility belt was. He pulled out her wallet and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. “There you are, my good sir!”
“Hey!”
“Don’t worry, I’ll pay you back.”
“Yeah, he’s not gonna pay you back.”
“That’s true. I don’t plan on it.”
Natasha looked incredulously at the cab driver. “Please tell me you’re not gonna take my money while I’m very obviously being held against my will.”
“Twenty bucks is twenty bucks in this town, miss,” the cab driver shrugged. “Now, buckle up and we’ll get going.”
Deadpool put the seatbelt over Natasha’s lap, replaced the tape area that had been cut, placed a strip over Natasha’s lips to shut her up, buckled himself in, and the cab drove off.
oOo
Deadpool wheeled Natasha through the elevators of the Empire State Building’s 102nd-floor observatory deck. During the ‘oOo’ transition, Deadpool paid the cab driver $30 (from Natasha’s wallet, of course) to stay parked outside while he and Natasha went in so they’d have a ride when they were done. To allay suspicions about Natasha’s conditions, Deadpool applied a paint-job on the tape so that Natasha’s tape wrappings looked like the exterior of the building (“It’s a performance piece,” Deadpool explained to the receptionist at the desk. “It’s a metaphor for how city life can be…restricting! Yes, and…uh…crap. Look, are you gonna sell us tickets for the observation deck or not?!”).
“Hey, good job with the exposition there.”
“I’m blushing…like, you can’t see that I am since this isn’t a visual medium, but trust me, I am.”
“Anyway, this is the top of the Empire State Building, Nat. What do you think of it?”
“Mmtz zmm-pmm. Lmm mmm gmm!”
“No, I will not let you go, Nat-oh, hello?”
A Japanese tourist couple came up to Natasha and started taking photos of her. “Hey, guys…yeah, I’m so glad you like my little art piece. Maybe you wanna get a photo with the artist who made it or…”
The couple, having finished taking their photos, walked towards the elevator. Annoyed, Deadpool ran up to them, held up his hand in a peace sign, and winked. “C’mon, guys! I’m, as you might say, Kawai!”
The male tourist turned to his wife. “Ano supaidāmandesu ka?” (“Is this Spider-Man?”)
“Taimuzusukuea kara no nokkuofu no 1tsu ni suginai to omoimasu. Ikimashou, Kenta. Rojāsu: TheMusical ni okuretakunai.” (“I think it’s one of those knockoffs from Times Square. Let’s go, Kenta. I don’t want to be late for Rogers: The Musical.”)
With that, the couple left. While Deadpool took out his phone to Google Translate what they had said, a worker from the building came up to him. “Sir, we both know that’s not an art project. You obviously tied up that nice girl and are wheeling her around.”
“Uh…she likes getting tied up?”
“Sir, I don’t even think you believe that.”
“Thank God,” Natasha thought. “Finally, someone with common sense. Now, make him let me go!”
Deadpool took Natasha's wallet out and slipped the worker $100. “No, it’s an art project,” he told her, winking.
The worker snatched the bill and placed it in her pocket. “Ah. My mistake, sir,” she winked back.
“Now, we’re at the tippy-top of the building?”
“Well, technically, there’s the antenna-”
“What? Boo! I wanted to go to the tippy-top!”
“I’m sorry, sir. But no one can get up there-”
“Nonsense! Watch this!”
Deadpool took out one of his katanas and cut a giant hole through the observatory glass. Pulling the glass out, Deadpool grabbed the handle of the handcart with one hand and used a knife to begin to climb up the building.
Natasha looked down at the ground below. While she wasn’t afraid (she had been dangled from higher places in the past), she didn’t trust Deadpool not to drop her by accident. “DMM-PMM! GMM MMM DMMM FMMM HMMM!”
“No, we aren’t getting down until I get a pic from all the way up-oops.”
While talking, Deadpool’s grasp on the handcart slipped, sending Natasha and the handcart she was strapped to plummeting 102 stories towards the ground. “DMMM-PMMM, YMMM FMM-KMMG IMM-DMM-MMMT!”
“Shit! Don’t worry, Nat, I got you!” Deadpool announced as he pulled a grappling hook and fired it to ensnare his captive. The grappling hook was a foot away from Natasha…until a taloned foot grabbed the handcart.
Natasha looked up at her apparent rescuer. “Vmm-tmm?”
“How interesting,” Vulture mused, hovering in the sky. “I was going to attack the Empire State Building to lure Spider-Man out so I could kill him. But I think taking such an Avenger hostage will work even better!”
“Hey, I’m the one taking her hostage, Birdbrain!” Deadpool exclaimed as he pulled a jetpack from behind his back and flew towards Vulture.
The villain took off with Natasha. “Get away!” he ordered. When Deadpool didn’t stop, Vulture turned around, pulled out a laser pistol, and started firing. Deadpool zipped around the lasers and tried to close the gap between him and Vulture, but the villain was accelerating.
“Grr…turbo-booster feature on this thing, don’t fail me now,” Deadpool muttered as he pressed a red button on the back of the jetpack. Instantly, he nearly closed the gap between him and Vulture with the sudden speed increase. Now right behind the villain, Deadpool threw the jetpack off and climbed onto Vulture’s back. He pulled a blowtorch from behind his back, cut off one of Vulture’s wings, and threw it down to the city below.
“Argh!” Vulture exclaimed, immediately tilting over due to the lack of balance he was now experiencing. “Fine, if you want her so badly, then take her!”
With that, Vulture dropped the handcart, sending Natasha plummeting to the ground again. Deadpool hopped off Vulture’s back and went after her while the villain retreated. Breast-stroking through the air, Deadpool caught up to Natasha, unstrapped her from the handcart, and picked her up into his arms. “There, I got you!”
“STMMM FMM-MMG!”
“‘Still falling’? Right, crap…uh…hey, guy who’s writing this, maybe you wanna…”
“Ugh, fine.” *type-type-type*
As luck would have it, just underfoot, a man was getting a ticket written for setting up a large and reinforced trampoline on the sidewalk. “For the last time, sir,” a cop informed the man, “you need a trampoline permit in this city.”
Deadpool and Natasha hit the trampoline and bounced high in the air. “Whee!” Deadpool exclaimed as he flipped through the air and landed on his feet. Moments later, he caught Natasha in his arms.
“So,” Deadpool asked, “where should the day take us next?”
oOo
Back on the cargo ship, Batroc had just woken up from the blow to his head. He pulled himself up to his feet and realized where he was. He banged on the inside of the crate. “Hello? Deadpool? Widow?”
To Be Continued…