FIC: "Dark Horse Bet" (Marvelfic, G)
Mar. 11th, 2007 07:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
transemacabreTitle: Dark Horse Bet
Fandom: Marvel Comics
Rating: G for General
Note: Set in an AU developed by myself and![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
remix17, branching off somewhere around Thunderbolts #100
The bar was too dark, too stuffy, and too loud. Max Dillon hiccupped, downed a double shot that Kraven had bought for everyone at the table, and grumbled something under his breath. "What was that?" asked Adrian Toomes, peering down his very prominent nose at Max.
"I said, I could have totally kicked Luke Cage's ass. If I'd felt like it." Max scratched his head, sending little jolts of static into the air. He'd shaved his hair off, but was letting it grow back, and the itching drove him crazy.
"Right," snorted Alyosha Kravinoff, his dark eyes shining. "I heard you fainted dead away when the New Avengers showed up."
"It was a -- tactical manuever!" Max yelled, slurring his words a little. He probably shouldn't have had that last beer. Alcohol did something funny to his system. The others at the table just chuckled to themselves. Adrian gave Max a friendly slap on the back. They'd be at each other's throats tomorrow, competing for heists and turf, but tonight, in this bar, they were just masks with a connection. Everyone at this table was "one of Spider-man's"; most of them had belonged to one incarnation or another of the Sinister Six, and a couple of them had tangled with the Avengers in their glory days.
Behind the bar, the barkeeper glared each patron down. He wasn't a man to be trifled with; he'd once been Doctor Doom's head-of-security, and he still had a malfunctioning Doombot that got trotted out for a laugh every once in a while. As a joke, Max had once looked up Doombots on eBay, and found so many listing for "refitted Doombots" with "erotic modifications" that he'd needed a stiff vodka to make him forget. At the next table over Max could see the Matador -- damned if he could remember the schlub's real name -- slumped over with his hand in the peanut jar. The Eel just kept right on talking to him, not even noticing his buddy had passed out. A couple of tables down, the pretty blonde waitress, the one Alyosha always flirted with, was taking an order from Stilt-Man and the Answer.
The door swung open, and a couple of familiar faces entered. "What's shaking, Shultzie?" Max called out, trying to sound cool but just coming off as a drunken lout.
"Not much, not much," Hermann Shultz said, taking a seat next to Alyosha. "You remember Jim?"
"Whizzer, oh yeah," Max said, and Adrian elbowed him in the ribs.
"It's Speed Demon now," Jim said as he pulled up a chair.
Max blinked at him in confusion for a minute before blurting out, "Ain't you a super hero now?"
"Nah," Jim said, "tried it for a while, didn't take. Got kicked off the team, can you believe that? Mel's got some nerve, I remember when she was just the village bicycle." He waved to the waitress, who blew him a kiss.
"Speaking of that," Hermann leaned across the table, "do you guys remember the Mimi Bet?"
The table went silent. Finally, Alyosha said, "The Mimi Bet? You mean..."
"Yep," Jim popped a peanut into his mouth, "she's got a bun in the oven. And hell no, it's not mine. Let's just say I still got contacts in the Thunderbolts."
Alyosha stood up and said, "Attention, everyone! Exciting news on the Mimi Bet! Jim and Hermann here have some new developments!" In an instant, the table was surrounded by masks, goons, henchmen, and general hoodlums. Each and every one of them knew the Mimi Bet. Most had good money riding on it. From behind the bar a ledger-book was produced.
"I can't believe it, I can't fucking believe it," Adrian muttered to himself.
"Tell me about it," Max said. "I thought for sure she had her tubes tied..."
"No!" moaned Adrian, clawing the air. "I always thought I'd be the one --"
Alyosha started laughing. "Right, Adrian! Even with Mel you never had a chance."
"It's Abner, isn't it?" asked Stiltman. "I knew it!"
Jim smirked. "It's not Abner."
Gasps from everyone, and moans from a few, most notably Stiltman. "He was such a sure bet!" Wilbur wailed. "A sure bet!"
Adrian plucked at Jim's sleeve and said, "Then it's Erik, right? Got to be Erik."
Jim shook his head. Murmurs and whisperings flew around the bar. If not Atlas or MACH-IV, then who?
"Oh dear God," cried Alyosha, "don't tell me it's Fixer!" Max felt something rise in his throat, but whether it was too much alcohol or disgust at the thought of Fixer getting some, he wasn't sure.
Jim laughed. "It's not Fixer, either," he assured Alyosha. Finally, getting bored of the joke, he said, "It's Zemo."
The bar fell dead silent. Even the barkeeper looked askance at Jim. Adrian burst out laughing. "No really, Jim, who is it?" he asked, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes.
"No really," Jim said, nodding, "it's Zemo."
More silence, followed by gasps of shock and gnashing of teeth by the losers. Max slammed his fist on the table, cursing loudly. Why had he bet on himself, anyway? Never bet on a loser, he told himself. There were several shouts of "Holy shit!" and Stiltman ran to the bathroom to puke. From above the din was heard a maniacal cackling.
"I knew it, I knew it!" cried the Eel, brandishing handfuls of dollar bills. The other super villains turned away in disgust.
"I can't believe it," Alyosha muttered. "Someone actually bet that Zemo would be the one to knock up Screaming Mimi?"
Jim munched a handful of peanuts. "Dark horse bet, friend."
Fandom: Marvel Comics
Rating: G for General
Note: Set in an AU developed by myself and
remix17, branching off somewhere around Thunderbolts #100The bar was too dark, too stuffy, and too loud. Max Dillon hiccupped, downed a double shot that Kraven had bought for everyone at the table, and grumbled something under his breath. "What was that?" asked Adrian Toomes, peering down his very prominent nose at Max.
"I said, I could have totally kicked Luke Cage's ass. If I'd felt like it." Max scratched his head, sending little jolts of static into the air. He'd shaved his hair off, but was letting it grow back, and the itching drove him crazy.
"Right," snorted Alyosha Kravinoff, his dark eyes shining. "I heard you fainted dead away when the New Avengers showed up."
"It was a -- tactical manuever!" Max yelled, slurring his words a little. He probably shouldn't have had that last beer. Alcohol did something funny to his system. The others at the table just chuckled to themselves. Adrian gave Max a friendly slap on the back. They'd be at each other's throats tomorrow, competing for heists and turf, but tonight, in this bar, they were just masks with a connection. Everyone at this table was "one of Spider-man's"; most of them had belonged to one incarnation or another of the Sinister Six, and a couple of them had tangled with the Avengers in their glory days.
Behind the bar, the barkeeper glared each patron down. He wasn't a man to be trifled with; he'd once been Doctor Doom's head-of-security, and he still had a malfunctioning Doombot that got trotted out for a laugh every once in a while. As a joke, Max had once looked up Doombots on eBay, and found so many listing for "refitted Doombots" with "erotic modifications" that he'd needed a stiff vodka to make him forget. At the next table over Max could see the Matador -- damned if he could remember the schlub's real name -- slumped over with his hand in the peanut jar. The Eel just kept right on talking to him, not even noticing his buddy had passed out. A couple of tables down, the pretty blonde waitress, the one Alyosha always flirted with, was taking an order from Stilt-Man and the Answer.
The door swung open, and a couple of familiar faces entered. "What's shaking, Shultzie?" Max called out, trying to sound cool but just coming off as a drunken lout.
"Not much, not much," Hermann Shultz said, taking a seat next to Alyosha. "You remember Jim?"
"Whizzer, oh yeah," Max said, and Adrian elbowed him in the ribs.
"It's Speed Demon now," Jim said as he pulled up a chair.
Max blinked at him in confusion for a minute before blurting out, "Ain't you a super hero now?"
"Nah," Jim said, "tried it for a while, didn't take. Got kicked off the team, can you believe that? Mel's got some nerve, I remember when she was just the village bicycle." He waved to the waitress, who blew him a kiss.
"Speaking of that," Hermann leaned across the table, "do you guys remember the Mimi Bet?"
The table went silent. Finally, Alyosha said, "The Mimi Bet? You mean..."
"Yep," Jim popped a peanut into his mouth, "she's got a bun in the oven. And hell no, it's not mine. Let's just say I still got contacts in the Thunderbolts."
Alyosha stood up and said, "Attention, everyone! Exciting news on the Mimi Bet! Jim and Hermann here have some new developments!" In an instant, the table was surrounded by masks, goons, henchmen, and general hoodlums. Each and every one of them knew the Mimi Bet. Most had good money riding on it. From behind the bar a ledger-book was produced.
"I can't believe it, I can't fucking believe it," Adrian muttered to himself.
"Tell me about it," Max said. "I thought for sure she had her tubes tied..."
"No!" moaned Adrian, clawing the air. "I always thought I'd be the one --"
Alyosha started laughing. "Right, Adrian! Even with Mel you never had a chance."
"It's Abner, isn't it?" asked Stiltman. "I knew it!"
Jim smirked. "It's not Abner."
Gasps from everyone, and moans from a few, most notably Stiltman. "He was such a sure bet!" Wilbur wailed. "A sure bet!"
Adrian plucked at Jim's sleeve and said, "Then it's Erik, right? Got to be Erik."
Jim shook his head. Murmurs and whisperings flew around the bar. If not Atlas or MACH-IV, then who?
"Oh dear God," cried Alyosha, "don't tell me it's Fixer!" Max felt something rise in his throat, but whether it was too much alcohol or disgust at the thought of Fixer getting some, he wasn't sure.
Jim laughed. "It's not Fixer, either," he assured Alyosha. Finally, getting bored of the joke, he said, "It's Zemo."
The bar fell dead silent. Even the barkeeper looked askance at Jim. Adrian burst out laughing. "No really, Jim, who is it?" he asked, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes.
"No really," Jim said, nodding, "it's Zemo."
More silence, followed by gasps of shock and gnashing of teeth by the losers. Max slammed his fist on the table, cursing loudly. Why had he bet on himself, anyway? Never bet on a loser, he told himself. There were several shouts of "Holy shit!" and Stiltman ran to the bathroom to puke. From above the din was heard a maniacal cackling.
"I knew it, I knew it!" cried the Eel, brandishing handfuls of dollar bills. The other super villains turned away in disgust.
"I can't believe it," Alyosha muttered. "Someone actually bet that Zemo would be the one to knock up Screaming Mimi?"
Jim munched a handful of peanuts. "Dark horse bet, friend."
