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
(
Siryn was about ready to punch him in the teeth. )
Comments 147
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Maybe she'd let him speak.
".. Wade.. ?"
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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!"
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"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."
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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?"
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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."
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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?"
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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."
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"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."
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"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."
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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."
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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.
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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?"
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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.
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"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."
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She didn't say anything, just placed a hand over his and gave it a light, encouraging squeeze, waiting for him to continue.
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