Another Remy-centric oneshot? I know, I know. You must hate me. I haven't updated Long Black Gloves for awhile now. But I swear (cross my heart and kiss my elbow) that I was typing up the next chapter tonight when this little gem popped into my head. I had to type it before I lost it.

It isn't the best thing I've ever written. Short. Silly. But I like it. Makes me smile a little. Hopefully, all you Deadpool fans will get a kick out of it too.


Some would say Remy LeBeau was fearless. Others would say he was crazy. Most would agree that the Cajun man was simply cocky.

Honestly, it was a combination of all three. You don't get fearless without being crazy, and at that point, cocky was a given.

There weren't a lot of challenges Remy LeBeau said no to. He had always been like that. For as long as he could remember. His thieving career started when another boy dared him to pick the pocket of a man seated on a park bench, reading the day's paper distractedly. That turned out rather well for him.

The next challenge he stepped up to was picking the pocket of serious looking man with a funny looking ponytail. Even if he had known the man with the funny looking ponytail was the leader of a group of infamous thieves, little Remy probably still would have done it. Once again, it worked out for him.

The third major challenge in his life was looking his Tante in the eye, lifting his chin and saying "Non" to her order for him to clean his room.

That did not end very well for him.

But beyond that incident, Remy's life had been composed of him taking on challenges, each more brazen than the last. Sometimes it was something as simple as seeing if he could break into and hotwire that shiny red convertible in under two minutes. Other times, it was something as major as seeing if he could successfully break into Tony Stark's mansion (he could).

When he decided, that for the most part, he needed to turn his life around, he joined the X-Men. It wasn't easy, because a lot of them were very distrusting of him. In fact, all of them were distrusting of him. For months, every moment spent with his teammates was a challenge to gain their trust. But with time, they came to accept him.

Then there was Rogue. That was a challenge he happily took head on. It was fun because not only was he absolutely smitten, but because she was intent on rejecting every one of his advances. Which was fine.

In case she hadn't heard, Remy LeBeau so loved a challenge.

Eventually, he stole a kiss from the lovely Rogue without any negative side effects. Except, of course, the angry father figure in her life that was none too pleased with Remy LeBeau smacking lips with the Rogue he saw as a daughter. In an instant, Remy found himself pinned to a wall. Two claws were extended, on either side of Remy's throat. The middle one had yet to be unveiled, but since Wolverine's fist was pressed to his Adam's apple, Remy imagined if that third claw decided to appear, it would not end well for him. It was terrifying.

Aw, who was he kidding?

It sounded like fun.

After Wolvie finished a very long, detailed, curse word filled rant about what would happen if he even so much as looked at Rogue again, the Cajun cocked and eyebrow and nonchalantly gripped one of Wolvie's claws between his thumb and index finger. The older man's eyebrows shot up when he saw that his claws were glowing.

"They say you're indestructible, eh?" Remy said, looking at how pretty the adimantium looked with that pink-purple glow around it. "And they say your whole skeleton is made of this indestructible metal, oui? Do you know what they say 'bout Remy? They say all he gotta do is touch somethin' to make it go boom from the inside out. He's wonderin' if your metal skeleton could handle goin' boom with all that potential energy it got stored inside of it turnin' into kinetic energy. See, Remy thinks that no matter how strong your bones are and how good your healin' factor is, you wouldn' walk away from havin' your entire skeleton blown into pieces of metal confetti. In fact, Remy's willin' to bet on that. How 'bout you, Wolvie?"

Then he smirked wolfishly.

"Remy loves to gamble."

Crazy. Fearless. Cocky.

He had taken on Wolverine, the Hellfire Club, Mr. Sinister, a cosmic fire bird possessing Jean Grey, Rogue during that "special" week, Magneto, Kitty's cooking, Belladonna, and an alternate reality version of himself that had it out for him. And he took them all on with a rakish smile and a lusty wink. There was no one or nothing Remy LeBeau feared.


One day, he found himself face to masked-face with another lunatic. Only this was a genuine, insists-they-all-lived-in-a-comic-book lunatic. But not only was crazypants battier than Bruce Wayne, but he was one of the best combatants he had seen. He watched the man in a red and black mask knock every single one of the X-Men unconscious.

And he never shut up.

Eventually, it was just Remy and the man who called himself Deadpool. His teammates lay scattered around him. It was up to him to save the day. In one hand was his bo-staff. The other held eight cards, each ready to be thrown in the blink of an eye. Across from him, crazypants stood with his two swords drawn.

Even though he couldn't see his mouth, Remy was positive Deadpool was smiling.

The men eyed each other, waiting for someone to make the first move. Remy eventually did. He lifted the hand that held the cards. Deadpool raised his swords, taking a "ready" stance.

Remy then proceeded dropped all of his cards onto the ground, followed his bo-staff.

Deadpool let his arms drop, looking down at the cards. "That wasn't how this fanfic was supposed to end…" he muttered.

Remy didn't even feel like asking him what he was talking about. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.

"How much do I gotta pay you to walk away from this fight and never ever mention this to any of the X-Men?" he asked, sifting through his wallet.

"Six hundred," Deadpool answered without hesitation.


He nodded. "You're right. That's ludicrous. A thousand. A thousand makes sense, considering I'm making a brief appearance in a piece of fiction being written by a bored, distracted teenager at three in the morning. I could do much better than this. I don't even have my yellow boxes. And I like my yellow boxes…." He trailed off woefully, further baffling Remy. But eventually, he seemed to snap back to normality (whatever normal was for him, anyway) and nodded once again. "A thousand bucks."

Remy looked at all the money in his wallet, then back at the man who kept talking about fan fiction and yellow boxes. He was crazy. How hard could he be to beat?

Then Remy's eyes drifted to his unconscious teammates and all the weapons strapped to his opponent's body. He remembered how he had skillfully, quickly, and talkatively taken down all of the X-Men until it was only them standing, all while grumbling something about Ryan Reynolds under his breath.

And then Remy LeBeau reached into his wallet, pulled out a thousand dollars, and slapped them into Deadpool's outstretched hand.

Because even Remy LeBeau wasn't that crazy, that fearless, or that cocky.


Do you know Remy paying off Deadpool actually happened in the comics? Yup. I was reading up on that and, as I was working on the next chapter of Long Black Gloves, I couldn't get it out of my head. I had to spit this out before I lost it.

I know this isn't my best work but it makes me happy, especially because I love, love, love, love, love Deadpool. I suppose not everyone will understand some of the jokes. For those of you who don't, Deadpool is completely aware of the fact that he is in a comic book. Or in this case, a piece of fan fiction. Whenever he is thinking in comics, his thoughts always appear in yellow boxes, which he is also aware of.

Deadpool is also crazy. Which is why I love him….

But enough about that. I gotta go to bed at some point and before the weekend's out, I promise to have updated Long Black Gloves. Life and oneshots just keep getting in the way….