[Fanfic] Recruitment

[belphegor1982]

Just a ficlet that trotted around in my head on the bus; I tried to make it DCU, but ended up in the DCAU anyway. Totally unrelated to the challenge Ivy and I have going on – I just wanted to have my little fun. Because I like poking fun at Copperhead any way I can, and I don’t even know why. And also because the Monty Python gang was awesome all around, both in comedy and in real life. Every single one of them.

Title: Recruitment (still looking for a better title...)
Rating: G
Characters: Copperhead, Captain Cold, Heatwave, Pied Piper, Mirror Master, Captain Boomerang
Pairing: none
Genre: humour
'Verse: DCAU, JL, set just before/during Injustice For All
Summary: Copperhead had his answer - the Central City Rogues were not interested in joining Lex Luthor's vendetta against the Justice League. But he had a nagging question...

Recruitment

 

Copperhead stared at the seven men who sat around a rather crowded table, and kept playing cards as though he had not just offered them a significant sum of money.

“So … it’s ‘no’, then?”

Captain Cold. Heatwave. Captain Boomerang. Mirror Master. The Pied Piper. They weren’t all there, he knew, but they might have been an asset.

They were supposed to be pretty big in this town, but it was difficult to imagine them in Luthor’s league when you saw them playing poker and drinking beer like some blue-collared Joes who’d just gotten off of work. Plus, the profession did mean to a certain extent that you were allowed a certain leeway as far as costumes and characters were concerned, but come on … Those colours just screamed ‘I’m here, come and get me’. Of course, their regular ‘hero’ was rather … flashy, all puns intended, but still … Might as well have painted targets on them with a giant brush.

Captain Cold didn’t even look up from his hand at Copperhead’s question. It was impossible to tell whether it was a good or a bad one.

“It’s ‘no’. Luthor can have his little personal vendetta against the Justice League. Whatever he pays us won’t be nearly enough.”

“Besides, we’re not mercenaries,” Heatwave added, picking a card and glancing at Copperhead, the light glinting off his yellow goggles. A mutter of assent ran among them.

Copperhead kicked back his chair, none too pleased by this turn of events – after all, Luthor’s lucrative proposition had just been turned down by some second-rate villains who spent their time robbing banks in the middle of nowhere. It smarted. Especially since Livewire had refused as well. Why was he only sent after the B- or C-list ones, anyway?

Before he was on his feet, however, the Pied Piper pointed out indifferently, “Well, as long as you’re in Central, you might as well try the Shade.”

“The what?” Copperhead asked, mystified, wondering if the guy was recommending him a good restaurant or something.

Not that he could afford to, anyway. He was flat broke. Hence the working for Luthor.

“Not ‘what’, ‘who’,” Mirror Master corrected. “Richard Swift. Does things you wouldn’t believe to shadows. He’s a … gentleman of fortune, you might say, and he’s always on the lookout for jobs. Could be just the professional you’re lookin’ for.”

Sure, why not. Maybe the others had heard of this guy, too. He’d have to ask.

“Okay. How do I find this guy, then?”

“Very easily, if he wants to be found.” Copperhead decided he didn’t like Captain Boomerang’s smirk at all. It mocking and smarmy, with enough reptile in it to make it a personal competition. “But your boss had better pay well.”

Well. Perhaps it wouldn’t be such a waste of time, after all.

As he was about to say thanks and leave, an idea occurred to him. Something funny he’d heard. A rumour, really.

Since he was there, might as well ask …

“Hey, uh, there’s a rumour goin’ round that there’s a … Well, that one of … There’s a super-villain who’s. You know. Gay.”

He was met with utterly blank stares and paused, feeling gradually more and more awkward – not to mention a growing need to wring his tail, which he only did in stressful situations.

“And, uh … that he works this town.”

More blank looks. Might as well be talking to a wall. But he plodded on.

“D’you … know … if it’s true?”

Okay, that was it. The blank expressions were beginning to creep him up a little bit.

Then Captain Cold blinked behind his glasses, and said flatly, “Yes. We found out which one it was, and we decided to kill him.”

He couldn’t be serious. He could not be serious. No way in hell he was serious. He was just winding him up.

On the other hand …

“Is there something else you wanted to know?” the Pied Piper asked, rather coolly. Copperhead shook himself out of it.

“No, I just … Uh. Thanks for the tip. Bye.”

Five pairs of eyes followed him out of the pub. He could still feel the stares burning in the back of his neck as he closed the door, his cheeks hot with embarrassment and anger at whoever it was that had first mentioned this stupid rumour to him. Now he looked an absolute idiot, those guys would never, ever take him seriously – if indeed they had in the first place – and all for something that was likely to be completely unfounded.

Come to think of it, though, didn’t they have a guy there with pink hair or something? And he hadn’t been anywhere in sight at the pub. Perhaps …

Copperhead risked a prudent glance through a window before walking away for good.

Just as he thought. All five of them were laughing their asses off, in all probability at his expense, each in his own different way – from hearty guffaws to half-hidden snickers. The only one who wasn’t at least chuckling was the Pied Piper, who sipped at his beer with what Copperhead thought was a small smirk on his face.

Bah. Guy had seemed like the stuck-up sort, anyway.

____________________________________________

Explanation/context: when Graham Chapman (you may remember him as King Arthur in Holy Grail, and Brian in The Life of Brian) came out (this is from Wikipedia), “a member of the television audience wrote to the Pythons to complain that she had heard a member of the team was gay, adding that the Bible said any man who lies with a man should be taken out and stoned. With fellow Pythons already aware of his sexual orientation, Eric Idle replied, “We’ve found out who it was and we’ve had him shot.” [...] Chapman said that this took place just before John Cleese left the show, and he wondered what the woman thought about his disappearance after getting Idle’s response.”

I remembered the quote as “which one it was, and we decided to kill him”, and at one point on the bus last week the thought hit me that it was perfect and snarky and I just had to use it. Apologies to Mr. Chapman, and if it helps, sir, years and years and years after you still make this Frenchwoman laugh her snickers off :o]



 

Just a little bit of harmless (I hope) fun :o)