Work Text:
Shoeshine had long started to worry. A man could only wait at the altar for so long before expecting to see his future wife. He could only twiddle with his tie so many times and the priest could only clear his throat so much and Riff could only tap his foot so many times—
Polly just… she wasn’t the type. Right? Shoeshine gulped.
He didn’t have time to wonder. Just as the thought implanted itself in his head, the front of the church burst open. Immediately, the hall wrung out with screams. Rubble and beams fell as a pressurized whirlwind blew through the building.
Shoeshine rose his arms to his face. When the torrent ceased, he blinked up.
In front of him, in some kind of mechanical spider, glowered Simon Barsinister.
In one of his robot’s cordlike arms, he clutched Shoeshine’s bride.
Polly clawed and scratched at the arm wrapped around her. It choked her at the neck and wrapped around her hips—a jolt of fear went through Shoeshine. One for the fear of Polly’s life, another for the fear that the arm would crush her torso.
Simon laughed wickedly, lifting his hands from the robot’s control board. “So this is the mighty Underdog!” he exclaimed. He went on, but Shoeshine didn’t hear—his ears rang with the sheer power of his fury.
He glanced around the room for any spot he might become Underdog. As he did, he spotted his family, brother and inlaw. Both of them had risen, and while he couldn’t see Taptap’s face, he caught a glimpse of Riff’s. It seemed his lips were curled into a smirk.
A growl burst out of Shoeshine before he could stop it. Simon’s spider turned and dashed out of the church on wiggly legs. Shoeshine moved to chase it.
Before that, however, he leapt for Riff. He shot a punch directly at his jaw, so powerful that it knocked him over the aluminum chair with an exclamation. Shoeshine retreated, shaking his numb hand and scarcely feeling the warmth of the blood across his knuckle.
Behind the wall of the foyer, he changed into Underdog’s attire, and flew after the mad scientist.
—
Polly. She was most of Underdog’s focus. As he slashed at the spiders cordlike legs, taking it down one at a time, he numbly tried to ensure that no one below was hurt. It was a tremendous effort. Simon nearly threw Polly between each twisted leg, and it seemed when Underdog tore through one, three more emerged.
Polly shrieked. It was torture to Underdog. He knew this was torture to her. Smooth beads and glittery pieces of lace fell from her bridal dress with each movement, and her blood, sweat and tears stained her face an ashy gray with the run of her makeup.
Underdog paused in the air for a breath. Simon took the moment to tease him. The leg that held Polly rolled up—over her mouth—over her stomach. Polly tried to claw at it, but Underdog could see her weakness, not to mention the lack of air she now had.
Sucking in a deep breath, Underdog launched for the leg that held her. Baring his teeth and flying faster than he ever had before, he barely managed to cut through it before the leg tossed Polly again.
The cord uncurled as it was disconnected from the robot’s body. Polly started to scream again as she entered freefall. Underdog rushed after her.
He landed on the ground below her with a skid, he felt his heel burn on the blacktop. He hardly had a second to breathe as Polly fell into his arms. He stumbled with the force of it—not only her weight, but the emotion of nearly losing her.
Polly panted. Above them, the leg Underdog had cut off sparked helplessly. Simon seemed to recoil as Underdog captured his ransom.
“Are you okay?” Underdog asked her hurriedly, so breathless and nervous that it was Shoeshine’s voice that came out of him.
Despite her gasps, Polly’s damp face curved into a relieved smile. Her eyes shut and she chuckled and she threw her arms around Underdog’s shoulders as she exclaimed, “Yes!”
Hardly a moment after the word had left her mouth, Underdog found her lips on his. Her mouth was wet, salty with sweat—so were her arms—Underdog was sure his sweater was no help. He pulled her closer, Polly let him. Underdog felt his heart beat in the back of his brain as his mind filled with one primary thought:
She’s my wife!
But their moment couldn’t last for too long. There was still a Simon to deal with. Releasing her for air, Underdog stared stoically up at Simon. Just under the glare of the viewing glass, Underdog could spot his disgust. His eyes quickly scanned the area for a safe place to put Polly— his wife.
—
Underdog heard Polly long before he saw her. He steadily made his way through the rubble of the church to the call of her siren song. He was sore from the neck down. He grit his teeth as his chest rose and fell with gasps.
Finally, he glanced up. The entrance was in bad shape, but the church building was mostly intact. Polly was on the stage holding a microphone, making arrangements for a new date.
“T-tomorrow?” she gasped. “It will… be rough, but.. so long as everyone is still here, we will manage it!” she exclaimed with a glimmer in her eyes. Underdog felt his heart soar.
The guests agreed and returned to their little groups to mingle. Trying not to rouse too much attention, Underdog made his way down the aisle. Polly handed the microphone back to the priest, but she managed to catch Underdog’s eye. She smiled tiredly. Underdog gained a spring in his step.
Neither bothered with the stairs. Staying on ground level, Underdog reached out for Polly with a star-struck smile across his lips. Atop the stage, Polly let out a chuckle.
“Tomorrow!” she repeated, “We’re getting married tomorrow.”
“So much for ten and two,” Underdog tried to joke. His voice was still Shoeshine’s.
Polly laughed some more and raised a warm hand to her face to wipe away a stray eyelash. There Underdog noticed the gash on her arm. He was sure he looked no better—he could feel the hot pulse of every bruise and scrape.
“Yeah,” she scoffed. “I don’t know… something feels sort of right about October 3rd, don’t you think?”
Underdog nodded. If Polly liked it, then Underdog liked it.
“I can’t wait,” he muttered.