Remy LeBeau: Here For Your Entertainment. (mssr_lebeau) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2014-10-24 19:20:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, remy lebeau (gambit), wade wilson (deadpool) |
Who: Wade Wilson & Remy LeBeau
When: October 23rd, Mid-Day
Where: Remy’s Temporary Office
What: Wade spikes Remy's drink with LSD for payback.
Rating/Warnings: R for Wade & Remy in the same log
Status: Completed
Let’s face it, when Wade Wilson sees a problem he immediately demands a solution.
Today’s problem: Remy LeBeau apparently drugged him for no good fucking reason.
Today’s solution: Teach Remy LeBeau that drugging him really is not the best idea.
So, Wade was going to do the only thing he could think of to make them square: he was going to drug Remy LeBeau.
Remy surely wouldn’t be expecting anyone at 11:23 - but, that was when the door to his office was coming open and one Wade Wilson was coming in. He was waggling a finger at the receptionist gesturing with a travel mug. “Just you wait and see, Mr. LeBeau will tell you that it’s just fine that I’m here.” He hadn’t needed to be too nasty to get up here. After all, everyone trusted a nice man in a suit - nobody asked too many questions, either, when he pointed to the visitor badge he’d pilfered from the security desk.
This wasn’t his first tango.
“Isn’t that right, Mr. Lebeau?” He’d ask with a smile, completely willing to interrupt whatever Remy was doing.
-
Remy was just tapping away at his computer and speaking to someone on the phone-- it was on speaker phone and he paused when Wade came walking in.
“I’m going to have to go, George..” He reached out to flick the phone off and gave Wade a smile.
“Hey, Wade.” He didn’t question how he’d been found, it wasn’t like it was hard. Sure, his name wasn’t on the outside of this building, but it wasn’t like he’d hidden. It was temporary while his new office was being built, but it worked well enough for now. “What can I do for you?” Really, he was glad to see him-- but then a sick feeling settled in his stomach. It was never good news when Wade showed up at your office. What did he want?
-
“See?” Wade asked the secretary with a smile, shooing her off with his free hand. “Give us a little privacy, would you?” He wanted those doors closed.
When they closed he’d come inside and sit in the plush leather chair in front of Remy’s desk. He’d set down the travel mug and then get comfortable.
“What’re you up to today, Rem?”
-
Remy would nod to the woman, who closed the doors behind her as she left, then Remy focused on Wade and lifted his eyebrows. “Just a few video meetings. Nothing really pressing.” He glanced at the mug on his expensive desk, then looked back up with a grin.
“Sorry about last night.” He felt he owed him an apology.
-
“We’ll talk about last night in a minute,” he leaned forward, pressing elbows to knees with a smile. “Cancel those meetings.” Go on, Remy, be a renegade with him. “Let’s have an afternoon.” Like a dog and his ball - he just wanted you to toss it, LeBeau.
-
Remy was quiet for a few seconds.. then he nodded and leaned to touch at the comm on his phone. “Cancel my meetings. Reschedule for tomorrow.” He’d release the button and lean back some in his chair with a smile.
“Okay, Wade, I’m yours.” All yours.
-
The smile that spread out over Wade’s face was like cancer - vicious and fast.
“Well that’s just awesome.” He was pleased as punch.
“Now drink that.” He looked pointedly to the thermos. It was silver, nondescript, and made for coffee (the Mr. Coffee label said so.) He was on the edge of his chair - like he’d just won the lottery. No talk about last night. Not right this second. No, Wade was completely in the zone. Remy wouldn’t be able to remember if he’d ever seen the other man quite so noticeably excited.
-
“Ah, no. Not unless you give me a good reason.” He lifted his eyebrows. “Am I dying of a horrible poison I ingested while eating breakfast and that’s the only antidote? It’s going to save my life and I have to do it in the next ten minutes or I’ll die a gruesome death.’
A grin broke out on his face.
-
“The reason is you fucked me over for no good reason, Rem.” He smiled serenely as he said it. “You drink it and we’re good.”
And you wanted to be good with him, didn’t you?
-
...Aw shit.
He’d reach for the cup and he’d swirl it around and take a sniff, then looked up. “Will I die if I drink it?” He might as well ask before he drank it.
Because oh, he was going to drink it.
-
“You wouldn’t be any fucking fun as a corpse.” No, Remy, he wasn’t going to kill you.
The liquid smelled quite bitter - chemical, actually. “I’d drink it, too; but, that’d both defeat the purpose and have us both stuck in this office. Somebody has to drive and it’s going to be me.”
He nodded to the thermos -- drink up, playboy.
-
Aw fuck.
Sighing, he’d nod once. Alright. “If I have an allergic reaction,” he warned with a slow smile. Wade had said the same thing to him last night. But all the same, he’d drink it. Reckless brat, this playboy.
Ugh, it had a bitter taste to it. But he’d drink a good half portion, then set the mug down and make a face. “You could have at least flavored it or something.”
-
“Nobody is allergic to LSD.”
Wade sat back when the thermos met the desktop again. He was pleased with himself. Really, really pleased with himself.
“Now, fork over your car keys.” He was patient. He had to be. “I’ll lock ‘em up so you can’t try and kill us.”
He was oh so pleased with himself.
“What do you think, we could do a movie.. or, we could just go to the bar.”
They had twelve hours to kill.
-
“LSD? Are you serious? Aw, shit.” He coughed a little but would pull his car keys out of his desk and slide them across the expensive wood top. “I’ve never done LSD before, you asshole.” But he was grinning just so, and leaning back to get comfortable in his seat. “Please tell me you’re not going to let me take off my clothes and go streaking or something.”
Because that sounded like something he’d do.
Sober.
-
“Of course I’m serious.” His tone said as much. Yes, Remy, he’d just doped you up with LSD. You were going to go on the trip of a lifetime in the next few minutes - and have to ride it out for twelve hours.
“I’m going to let you do whatever you want short of dying.” See, he was a good friend. A great friend.
“I showed you mine, Rem,” his head tilted a little, getting up from his seat and stretching, “You show me yours. What’d you put in my drink last night?”
Come on, Cajun, come clean.
-
“Aw, fuck, Wade. You have no idea what you just did.” Could you imagine Remy tripping on acid? Really? Now imagine Gambit tripping on acid.
Imagine him throwing exploding things at the imaginary face-eating moths.
Poor Wade.
“The same stuff that was on the door handle that you touched when you came into my office.” A shit-eating grin would cover his face.
-
It was entirely possible Remy might just be able to taste color and hear smells. Not everybody got all fucked up. Still, even if Remy got a little out of hand, the Merc was sure he could handle him.
“Yeah, I’m sure you keep your employees dosed all the time.” His eyes rolled.
“Any last requests before you start seeing shit that ain’t there?”
-
“I can blow things up by touching them.” Announced with his eyebrows lifting slowly for emphasis. “Don’t let me grab things. If they turn pink, they’ll explode.” He was already starting to trip out. Clearly.
But he seemed relatively pleased with it.
-
“Yeah. I bet.” Wade’s eyes rolled a little. “What if you want to give me a hug and cry about the experience? Should I just kick you in the face?”
Yeah, he was going to have a good time fucking with Remy LeBeau.
-
“I was sort of hoping you’d take advantage of my young, tight body.” He would let out a slow breath and smooth his hands along his desk top. Oh, lord. He could feel that. Shit. He’d close his eyes and take in a slow breath. Oh, man, that was a weird feeling. He felt a little sick to his stomach.
But.. oh, that was nice. The colors were pretty.
-
“Yeah, I could call somebody to do that for you.” See, he was a benevolent master of fucking you over. Sure, he’d doped his would-be friend; but, he’d also made plans to make sure he survived it - and maybe with a hooker or two.
“You want to go for a ride?” Asked smoothly, offering out his hand.
Come on, LeBeau, hit the road for a while.
-
“I feel like I’m going to throw up.” He’d take that hand and stand up. Whoa-- that was weird. He batted at the air some and would laugh a little, but would follow wherever that hand led him.
He’d have walked off a cliff if that hand urged him to.
Right now, he was amazed with the colors and the way the air moved.
-
Wade took that hand comfortably and lead Remy right on out of his office.
“He’ll see you tomorrow,” his advice to the secretary as he and Remy boarded the elevator.
“Lean a little,” his instruction as he kept Remy from approaching the closing doors and away from the floor buttons. Yes, he had quite the plan indeed.
Assuming they got to the lobby of the building intact, he’d keep that hand and take his tripping friend out for a ride.
“What out, Rem,” said as he buckled the red-head into his seat, “You look like you’re actually having fun.”
-
It was good that he kept him from reaching the buttons, because he was wiggling his fingers for them. Lights. He was clearly attracted to lights. Thankfully, it was day time. The darker it got, the more lights would be interesting.
“I might throw up.” It was unlikely. But he’d lean against Wade with a little laugh and pick at his own tie. He liked the colors. He’d lift it to lick the silk and smile in a pleased way.
Oh yeah. He thought his ties would taste great.
-
His ties probably did taste great. Wade’s red and black tie probably tasted fucking spectacular.
“Let’s take you to the movies. How’s that sound? What’s that new kid’s flick? We’re doing that.” Because, God, the colors? Yeah, it’d be fucking great.
And, so lucky for Remy, Wade had brought along a camera to document this time for him. “Hey? Rem?” He was holding out the polaroid camera at arm’s length. “Say cheese?”
No, Remy, he wouldn’t make this digital. Digital was dangerous to a man like you. Polaroids? Those could be burned. The camera’s light flashed and out popped a picture of the two of them. “Now you put that in your pocket, fucking polaroid film is expensive.” And hard to find. And totally worth it.
-
Remy would make a kiss-face at the camera, then he flicked Wade off and would reach out and grab his tie, then jerk it close and lick that too. Oh, that was great. Another lick, then he leaned in closer and let out a sigh. He’d snatch the picture and break into a wide grin, shaking it. Shaking it. Shaking it. He got disinterested when it didn’t get an image and would tuck it away into his pocket in a bored manner.
“Your pictures suck.” They didn’t work. Of course, it’d only been five seconds.
-
Wade watched as his tie was licked.
“You’re paying for my dry cleaning for a month.” He was absolutely sure of that fact.
Another picture would be taken of the shaking-picture-man and he’d happily toss the relic of a camera into his back seat.
“What color is it right now?” He was just curious.
Wade would then slap the car into reverse and hastily back them out of the parking spot, and the slap it into drive - sending them with the top down on their way out to the interstate.
“How about now?” Shouted over the rushing wind.
He was weaving in and out of traffic, taking them down to the multiplex. It was the middle of the day on a Thursday - odds were it’d be deserted. After fifteen minutes on the freeway he’d be entering a parking space just as aggressively as he’d exited the one at Remy’s office.
“Two rules, Rem,” Said once he got Remy out of the car, “You don’t lick anybody you don’t know - you don’t want to get crabs-- and you always remember that no means no.” For some reason Wade could see the kid trying to hump some poor bastard in the bathroom.
“You got those? Repeat them back so I know you got ‘em.”
-
He wasn’t listening to anything you were saying, Wade. He’d found his iPod and he was turning it over and over in his fingers. But he wasn’t trying to make it work. It was beginning to glow pink and his smile was growing. The iPod would continue to get brighter and brighter, glowing away in that happy color-- then he tossed it out of the car. It exploded when it hit the ground behind them and caused screeching tires and the sound of metal crunching.
Oops.
He didn’t even glance back. He was too fixated on finding something else to make that happen to. He was going through his glove box.
-
Wade looked back.
Holyshit.
“Hey!” He swatted those hands that were looking through his glove box.
“Hey!” He swatted some more for good measure. He’d reach into the back of the car and grab the polaroid and start taking lots of flashy pictures - hoping that would distract the groping red-head.
“I heard they got more ties inside the theater.”
-
It would distract him. It’d make him grab for the camera and he’d curl his hands around it and smile as it began to glow pink.
“Let’s go to the theater.” Sorry about your camera, Wade.
He tossed it into the air and it’d be swept back quickly and would explode just before striking the ground behind them. It made the Cajun laugh and he’d turn hazel eyes onto the driving man.
“What are we going to see?”
-
Well, that fucking sucked.
If Wade didn’t feel personally responsible he would have fucking abandoned Remy the seond he realized he hadn’t been joking about blowing things up.
He couldn’t fuck Remy over like that - it’d only end badly.
“You broke my camera, Rem. That thing was a classic.” He actually sounded a little mopey about it.
Forget about the pileup behind them, that was just collateral damage.
-
“I will buy you another woman.” He told Wade seriously, then broke into a grin again and would smooth his hands along the dashboard.
It began to glow pink.
-
Oh Jesus Christ.
They weren’t going to make it to the movies, were they?
Wade jerked the wheel so that they were off road and threw the car into park in short order. He was reaching out to undo his seatbelt and Remy’s - watching that those hands stayed on the damned dash.
“What the fuck, Rem?!”
He thought they were going to have fun dammit!
He was grabbing Remy by the collar and hauling him out the driver’s side door.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!
-
When his hands left the dash, the glow fizzled away and the car was left unharmed. He didn’t have the ability to charge the whole thing yet-- and didn’t have enough time.
“Hey, what the Hell--” But then he was distracted by Wade’s tie again and would give it a tug and hold on, leaning some for another lick. Then he was looking up and at the air-- reaching out for something and grabbing, but he clearly missed whatever it was.
It made him smile, though.
He’d warned you, Wade.
-
Wade knew he could fix this. He could make this fun.
He was going to have fun, dammit.
“Rem! Rem!”
Dark eyes were wide and bright and excited. “We gotta go find the fucking Horax, man!” He’d reach out and grab Remy’s hand and tug - they were headed in the direction of the next exit leaving his car behind.
Remy was buying him a new camera and a new fucking car.
-
Oh, now that was exciting! He’d follow along eagerly, bouncing some as he did. He’d snatch at things in the air and shout-- then turn at Wade and go ‘Ssshhhh!’ as loud as he could. Then he’d go back to trying to catch things.
At least it wasn’t a bad trip, right, Wade? He could have tried to strangle you. Instead, he was just excitable and.. well. Dangerous.
-
Still, now that Wade knew how to manage the business man - there was no stopping just how much fun they were going to have.
And look at that, a Walmart.
Shit was about to get fucking real.
They’d make it down the exit - both of them in their suits - and wind up in a low crawl as they approached the Walmart. “Rem, you know about Horaxes, right?” He whispered sharply. Oh, yes, he was going to take Remy into a fucking walmart with it’s bright lights, shiny shit, and wide aisles.
Booyah.