Spideypool

Spideypool one-shot

It was a quiet night for Spiderman as he looked over his own small corner of New York City.

..Emphasis on was.

It was late, and he was cold, and for the past half hour his phone's been buzzing nonstop from a private number. He tried to ignore it at first, and hey, even sometimes sang along to the catchy tune he liked to call his own theme-song. But it kept beeping, and buzzing, which built up irritation and in turn, made him stubborn enough to keep ignoring it.

If they're not gonna leave me alone, then I'm not answering.

Another half hour passed by.

His phone wouldn't stop.

Now perched on the other side of the same building, any lone residents wandering late in the night beneath him could now go home and brag about how they heard Spiderman curse.

Giving in, although with a loud sigh, muffled swear, and frustrated groan, he pulled his phone out his backpack pocket. "What," he snapped irritably, narrowed eyes scanning over the rooftops in his view.

Unfortunately, with his built-up frustration and sleep deprived state, his spidey-senses were half a second late when he found himself suddenly slammed off the building edge, from a heavy weight clad in black and red.

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{Why are we still even trying to ring him?!}

"Because we gotta distract him!" Deadpool muttered in answer as he hit the "call" button again, and heard White's displeased hum at the reply.

[He's not picking up. Obviously. And remind me again why this is a good plan?]

{Duh! We want to talk to him!]

[He's on the building across from us!]

"Good, good," the merc murmured as he hung up the phone once he was greeted with voicemail. "Set the scene for our readers."

Now ignoring the bickering boxes in his head, Deadpool threw a hardened glare towards Spiderman before trying one last time.

He almost jumped up and squealed with joy when he heard the reassuring click of an answered call.

{Go, go, go!}

"Wha--"

In a split second, Deadpool had jumped the space between the buildings and launched himself at Spiderman, throwing them both off the edge.

[The very, very high edge, might I just add. Bad idea.]

   

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Spiderman's skilled. Extremely skilled. He had already shot web towards another building to keep him from falling to his death.

Unluckily to him, keeping himself from death also seemed to be the same thing the now-recognized mercenary was doing.

Deadpool wasn't letting go of him.

"Christ, Wade! Hold still!" Spiderman cried as he swinged precariously through middair, aiming to scale the building.

"Either let go and fall, or just stay st-- Stop wriggling!"

Peter would learn later on in the week, through the Daily Bugle, that yes, noise complaints were filed.