Damnit, Deadpool, Stay Put

[is_more_sonic]

WHO: Deadpool (wadewilson) and Siryn (is_more_sonic)
WHERE: City rooftop Deadpool designated
WHEN: May 19th at 8:00PM
WARNINGS: Deadpool. He's pretty much his own warning.
SUMMARY: After avoiding her for days, Deadpool finally sets a location for the two of them to meet.
FORMAT: Para

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[wadewilson]

She'll see that familiar red and black-clad figure doing an odd little skip-dance along the corner ledge. Not all that different from Peter Venkman's skip-walk in Ghostbusters.

[Do you not wanna do a para log?]

[is_more_sonic]

She lands not far from him, stomach clenching when she spots him on the ledge. Typical Wade, she can't help but think before she tucks her hands carefully across her chest. Now that she landed, now that she saw him, she was more confused than ever about what she wanted to do first.

Maybe she'd let him speak.

".. Wade.. ?"

[Um, I totally do! Some paragraphs are shorter than others. :)]

[wadewilson]

...

He'd had a whole big speech planned, a big gregarious rig-a-ma-role that's all immediately scattered to the wind when she actually descends from the heavens sky, and it feels like it's been years since he's laid eyes on her.

Guh.

He stops his little stutterstep, but doesn't move closer for a moment. That weird thing where he feels like he's karmically not allowed to be near her has kicked in.

It's not many who can render Wade Wilson near-speechless.

"Hey, Red!" he finally forces out. "Fancy meetin' you here!"

[I know! :P That was just formatted more like quicklog usually is, so I wanted to clarify. :)]

[is_more_sonic]

And that's when her eyebrow twitches. So this was how he was going to play it.

"Fancy meeting? I've been looking for ye for three days, Wade Wilson. Ye know, from just after ye hung upon me? After avoidin' me all this time ye wanna meet up and what ye've got to say s 'fancy meeting ye here?'"

Her fists were clenched at her sides. "Ye better 'ave a explanation a damn sight better than what ye've given me so far."

[wadewilson]

"You know I can't ask Jimbo anything without his goading me into knocking his big dumb Chief Wahoo ass around. I seem to recall you getting pissed and ditching me in Iowa to run off with that whiny chump over that-"

He bites his tongue to stave off that train of thought before it becomes some pathetic attempt at a guilt trip. She never needs to know what happened that day after she left him.

Wade is in no way calm. The hitching in his breath is evidence of that. The hand she can't see has a white-knuckle deathgrip on the couch cushion to try and keep himself from shaking.

Deep breaths. Oh god. Deep breaths.

"Terry. You know what I'm sportin' under the hood here. It's sweet that you thought to mention it, but you don't have to worry about that long line of nonexistent supermodels and Kardashians outside my door just clamoring to get a piece of this scabalanche."

A hard swallow.

"Are you absolutely sure you can deal with this ugly mug?"

[is_more_sonic]

She bit at her lower lip again, though this time it was to suppress mild irritation more than anything else. She'd already apologized for that. What else did Wade expect her to do?

But he dropped it, so so would she.

Terry spared him a sidelong glance. With that mask it was sometimes so hard to tell what he was really thinking; it hid most of the obvious facial expressions. Was she sure? It was something she'd been rolling over in her mind for months, if she was honest with herself. She liked Wade, but he was a handful. It's a large part of why she'd told him to wait before. She just hadn't had the time to manage both him and X-Force.

But now that X-Force was gone, now that her responsibilities were more easily tended to... she had the time. Moreover she wanted to, she realized quite suddenly. Not just as a project to keep him from going insane, but because she actually liked him.

"Aye," She said after a quiet moment of consideration, then added with a slight smile. "And if ye get out of hand, I can always punch ye again."

[wadewilson]

His heart is in his throat in a way it hasn't been in forever.

But still, he pulls off that mask, revealing that mangled face of his. Not sure why he's feeling compelled to be encouraging her to run away. But this is a really important point.

"It involves kissing this, Terry. Not just a pity-touch here and there. It involves bringing this to cotillions and family reunions and ice cream socials. It involves putting your mouth and maybe someday your body on this. Are you sure? Will you be able to handle it when the 41st cousin in a row pukes at the sight of me?"

[is_more_sonic]

Terry looked over at him in surprise. Not because of what she saw, but because she was a bit shocked that it was even still an issue. She thought she'd communicated pretty well earlier that it wasn't a problem for her. Though apparently not; Wade still seemed pretty convinced that it was.

She reached up and cupped one of those scarred cheeks, tilting her head to the side a bit as she spoke. "It's nothing I haven't already seen, Wade. And ye don't give yourself enough credit. These marks-- they're a sign of ye bein' determined to live no matter what. It's not somethin' to be afraid of. It's somethin' to respect. Ye should never think less of yourself for 'em."

[wadewilson]

BOYFRIEND SHE SAID BOYFRIEND I AM SO STOKED. I AM ALSO 12.

"You're doing more than all right.

After that initial overjoyed flareup that passes over his face, he settles back down and just smirks at her. Grabbing a sofa pillow and slapping in it in his lap.

"Is that better?" he asks. "I can do the no-touchie strip-joint rules, too, if you're that twitchy about it," he adds, throwing his arms back so his hands are tucked behind the back of the couch. "See? No touchie. We're in a safe zone. Feel free to strip."

[is_more_sonic]

She gave him a critical once-over. There were a multitude of reasons why Wade would want her in his lap, and Terry was wary of giving in. It wasn't a lack of trust persay so much as it was that cautious voice in the back of her head warning her that this could go terribly awry with one false move.

"I'm not stripping," She said with an air of definity. That much she could promise. She felt rather like prey being tempted closer to a predator. Sure, he seemed harmless now, but once she got closer the jaws would snap.

But then, she'd never know if she didn't try, did she? And if Wade tried anything it's not like she couldn't make him stop. She definitely wasn't in for groping or anything further, but-- kissing she could manage.

Slowly, cautiously, she moved to straddle his lap, placing her hands on either side of his head behind the couch. "One false move and ye'll be regrowin' body parts for a week."

[wadewilson]

At absolute most, he was expecting she'd do a demure sit on the cushion as if she was sitting in Santa's lap. So the fact that she went as far as to straddle him completely blows his mind.

It instantly melts away any sense of 'attitude' and certainly destroys any 'predator' vibe he might've been inching towards. It brings back that wide-eyed nervous guy that was shivering at her lightest touch not too long ago. She can practically see the hearts in his eyes.

"Theresa... I just want to kiss you until the sun comes up."

[is_more_sonic]

The look actually made her chest flutter for a second and her breath hitch. When had she turned into a sap? When had Wade turned into a sap? She could almost hear her friends simultaneously vomiting in the background.

But they could screw themselves. She was happy.

Terry decided that wide-eyed nervous Wade was her favorite Wade so far. As much as she enjoyed the jokes -- not that she'd ever admit it -- it was nice to see the real Wade sometimes too. The fact that she got to see him at all made her feel all the more special; it felt like a silent victory.

At this rate Terry's face was going to match Wade's uniform. What was she supposed to say to something like that? She knew sometime soon she'd have to sit Wade down and make sure he knew she wasn't as amazing as he seemed to think she was, but not now.

For now, she leaned in and kissed him again.

[wadewilson]

Wade's eyes open over her shoulder, catching sight of a disembodied astronaut's hand crawling around the cheesy sets of this black-and-white movie they're not watching on the giant drive-in screen. Trying to draw a little strength from her fingers on the back of his mangled scalp. Trying to get enough distance.

Eventually, he pulls back from the embrace, taking several deep breaths and staring at the sight of his hand resting against her leg. A couple of stutters in that breathing suggest that he's trying to start and can't figure out how. He wants to deflect and joke and lighten and avoid... but if he's gonna make a go of this touchy feely honest true magic lurve... he's gonna have to be as real as he can possibly be. For her sake.

Finally, he speaks. Ominously.

"Ever wonder why I was so desperate to track you down in Iowa?"

[is_more_sonic]

"Aye," She acknowledged with a small nod. She had a feeling that whatever'd happened to him had been at least partially her fault. She was ready to admit her wrongs and try to help mend them. She'd passed the ninth step, after all.

She'd been terribly curious about what would have sent Deadpool after her so desperately, she just figured that her refusal had removed her right to know. Unless Wade wanted to tell her, anyway.

[wadewilson]

His fingers tighten just a little on the outer side of her thigh, before he finally just breaks into it.

"After you saved my bacon from committing myself to being an ugly, vengeful waste of air with the Killebrew thing - good call, by the way. He wound up saving me again later - I was all aglow with happy fun-time vibes. So when I got hired to bust a crazy chick out of the booby hatch by two of her different personalities, and then she turned out to be a nutjob killer called Typhoid Mary, I figured she wasn't too far from the nutjob killer I was, so I tried to be all goody-goody and pay what you did for me forward. Part of her was a sweet and broken girl who just wanted me to end it for her, but I'd given up killing for Lent... so I didn't."

His eyes close.

"I should've."

[is_more_sonic]

Her eyes scanned over him as he talked, waiting patiently for him to get around to the story. She was slightly surprised at the lack of injected humor and the lack of it on his face; he used it to deflect so often she'd expected at least a degree of it here.

She didn't say anything, just placed a hand over his and gave it a light, encouraging squeeze, waiting for him to continue.