Chapter Text
“A Doreen's Diner?” You said quietly to yourself, looking up at the restaurant sign lit up against the sunset sky. This was where you were told to meet your partner for the mission. A family restaurant of all places, not a dark alley or a bar or something?
Inside, a small sign said to wait to be seated, but the diner looked to be completely deserted. Chairs were knocked over, food was left unfinished, and it looked like lots of people had left in a hurry. Was your partner okay? You stepped in quietly, ready to defend yourself should the need arise. Then you heard some loud laughing. You went to investigate.
Sitting in a booth in the corner was a man in a red and black suit and a mask with black diamonds over his eyes. You assessed him quickly and saw that two katanas were strapped to his back, and a large gun was lying on the table. He was reading the kids menu placemat.
He spoke without looking up, still laughing. “Why did the computer go to the doctor?” His voice was young and brash, and just... loud. In a humorous way, though.
You were quiet for a second, even though you knew the answer to the joke. You brain was too busy processing the scene to reply. This was your partner, easily recognisable by his suit from the mission files.
“It had a virus!” He answered himself loudly, laughing even more. He finally looked up at you, and although he had a mask, you could sense the surprise on his face. “My God! When they said they were sending an agent to help me, I wasn’t imagining someone like you. I was thinking some old stiff with a toupee or something.”
You raised an eyebrow before speaking. “Uh, you’re Wade Wilson?” You asked, even though you knew the answer. According to the mission plan, he and you had to get on the road soon.
“When the suit comes off is when you’ll call me Wade. Just kidding. JK. LOL. Folks ‘round here like to call me Deadpool, though.” He said standing up and strapping his machine gun at his side. You noticed that his gun had words like ‘pew pew pew’ written all over it. “Doreen's doesn’t serve Mexican. I was hoping for pambazos or something like that.”
“We have to get on the road if were gonna reach our destination in time tomorrow.” You said, gesturing towards the parking lot.
You still weren’t sure of what to make of his sex comment. Being a woman in a mostly male-dominated career had made you pretty used to that kind of behaviour. You found that the best course of action was to ignore them.
“Those mission papers are more like guidelines. At least, that’s what I find them to be.” He said walking out with you. “What’s the speed of dark?” He pondered not too deeply, looking up at the now starry sky. You were headed toward your car, the only one in the parking lot.
Police car sirens began blaring close by, and you knew they were headed in your direction. “Sorry, don’t want the coppers on our asses right now!” Deadpool said. You agreed as he dragged you to your car quickly, opened the door and pushed you in, then ran around into the drivers seat. You fumbled for the keys, tossing them to him. Besides, you weren’t going to stop him. He seemed kind of unpredictable.
The police pulled into the diner lot, blocking the only exit, and you wondered what Deadpool’s plan of action would be. You heard them speaking over a megaphone, and several of the police had their guns drawn.
“What did you do?” You said, mostly to yourself. You wouldn’t get in trouble with the police, but they would hinder the mission. There was government protocol for dealing with police that caught mutants.
“Click it, or ticket!” He said loudly, leaning over to buckle you in and starting the engine simultaneously. He either ignored your question, or didn’t feel like answering. His face was dangerously close to your breasts, much to your discomfort. He stepped hard on the gas pedal without looking up, his face still lingering near your chest, and you gasped as he sped towards the police cars.
You let out a small scream when you realized he wasn’t going to stop. Deadpool straightened up and banked left sharply, avoiding the police cars and heading straight for the planters and sidewalk that separated the diner parking lot from the main street. He drove the car right over it, bouncing off the curb and sending incoming cars swerving and honking. “Hold on to your butts!” He yelled. “Or boobs!” He said in a pretend quiet echo of himself.
And hold on you did. To your seat, that is. Deadpool’s driving might have been crazy, but so far none of the incoming vehicles had even grazed your car. You did your best to try to steady your heartbeat and breathing.
“Well, this has been exciting and all, but could you please go into the right lane?” You said, laughing nervously. The police were nowhere to be seen, but they probably wouldn’t be far behind.
“Why? This is much more fun. Buuut when you say it like that...” He said. He drove into the right lane, moving with traffic as if nothing had happened previously.
“Get any good stations in this grandma wagon?” He said, flipping the radio on to an annoying pop song, singing along quietly. He didn’t know many of the words, so hummed everything but the chorus, pretending to go along with the song.
“Grandma wagon? I’ll have you know that...” You looked at the old dashboard. Your car was totally a grandma wagon. “It seemed like the most unsuspicious car to me.” You said, smiling.
He laughed. “Where are my manners... What’s your name?” He said in a overly friendly tone.
“__________.” You said your real name simply. You generally didn’t use your codename, or “superhero name”, when working with other mutants.
“Oh good. Great name. Awesome. Hey! I need to pull over real fast.” He said, changing the subject in a heartbeat.
“Why?” You said glancing at the clock. “We need to be on our way to the—” Deadpool cut your sentence off.
“Gotta grab a bite to eat.” He said, pulling the car over and hopping out while leaving it running. Before you could stop him, he ran into the building with a sign that read Josérs MexiCanadian Tacos And Live Bait and returned within two minutes with a medium sized paper bag.
He got back into the driver’s seat setting the bag on the center console.
“That was quick.” You said, never before seeing someone get food so fast.
“That’s what she said.” He quipped without skipping a beat.
“Unbelievable. What are you, five?” You said, rolling your eyes. You had to admit that his timing was great, though. Deadpool just laughed.
You turned away to see a man from inside the restaurant switch off his neon OPEN sign nervously. You felt kind of bad for whoever was in there.
“What? Don’t wanna taco ‘bout it?” He said, offering a wrapped taco to you. You let out a breath and took the taco from him, realizing how hungry you were.
“Thanks.” You said. “How are you gonna eat with the mask on?” You watched him unwrap a burrito. Hou hadn’t really meant to blurt that question out. It’s just that your “superhero costume” didn’t have a mask.
“The same way when I do anything with my mouth.” He said, pulling his mask over his mouth. In the dim light, you saw that he was disfigured, scars over his exposed skin.
“Burn wounds?” You said, trying to be as casual as you could. This guy was kind of unpredictable. You hoped he wouldn’t get angry or anything.
“Cancer.” He tried to say, his mouth full of food. You nodded, finding it unusual that he had cancer. It was just kind of unexpected for some reason. You ate your taco in silence, listening to the radio play more dumb songs.
“We have to go.” You said, looking at the clock for the third time.
“Okay, okay.” He said, slamming the accelerator once again, jerking you backwards roughly. He changed the radio it to an alt station and turned the music up loud.
“FUCK!” He yelled over the censored word as the opening of THISKIDISNOTALRIGHT by AWOLNATION started.
“You’re gonna kill my car!” You shouted with a laugh over the music, though you were being funny, a little part of you was actually worried.
“LOL!” He said as the tires screeched when he made a sudden turn onto the highway. You put a hand on your forehead, watching the speedometer. Deadpool was driving well above the speed limit, making racecar noises like a little kid.
Deadpool began talking again. “Why’d you volunteer for this mission? You’re not the usual babysitter Big Brother hires for me.”
You laughed a little. “The mission sounded easy enough, and I wanted to impress my superiors.” You admitted. “Not to monitor you.”
“Hm. I bet they didn’t tell you that much about me.” He said. This was a surprisingly calm conversation.
“Naw. Just that you were the village idiot.” You joked.
He laughed. “Apply cold water to burned area!”
“I don’t think that’s exactly true, what they said about you. I mean, you have to have at least a kinda high IQ to have the level of wit that you do.” You were quiet, wondering your compliment would come across to him. He was silent for a few moments.
He continued talking about whatever was on his mind with minimal interaction from you. He made comments about everything, but not about your compliment.
He steadied his driving and turned the music down, and you watched road signs as you crossed province and territory borders, heading to more rural areas of the country. The plan was to drive for several hours, stop for the night, and continue with the mission the next day. You saw the street lights and city fade away into wilderness, and you felt yourself getting tired...
“Hey __________. We’re at a motel.” He whispered close to your face. Your immediate reaction was a swift hard punch to his face.
“Dammit Frank, keep it together!” He said with a laugh. It’s like your accidental defense hadn’t affected him physically at all.
“Wh-What?” You were thoroughly confused for a few more seconds. “Oh.” You looked up at the cheap single story motel with the flickering neon sign. It was the Onyx House Motel, meaning that Deadpool had read the mission file. “Sorry about the hit.”
“There are a lot worse ways I could have woken you up.” He said getting out of the car. You grabbed your small duffle bag from the back seat and got the keys for the pre-prepared motel room. You were glad that you didn’t have to go through the front desk. Deadpool would have caused complications, to say the least.
Once in the room, you announced that you were going to take a shower. You glared at him with a look that said ‘I dare you’. What he could possibly do was left to your imagination, but you hoped that it got the message across to him. You made sure to get your pajamas and whatever else you’d need before going in the bathroom and locking the door.
When you got out, you weren’t surprised with what you saw. Your duffle bag was open, and your clothes were strewn about. Your panties were neatly laid out in a row, and Deadpool was holding one of your bras to his chest.
“What’s the difference between kinky and demented?” He said, inspecting the bra further.
“Really?” You said, hiding your amusement. You walked over to him and snatched the bra away.
“Why even pay for a bra when I’d gladly hold your boobs up a day for free?” He said raising his hands up with an ‘I don’t know’ gesture. “I can’t wait to see you wear your cute superhero outfit tomorrow!” He said excitedly. “It’s functional and feminist approved.”
“Yeah.” You said boredly as you picked up your clothes, shoving them back in the duffel bag and taking the bag near your bed.
You sat down on your bed, drying your hair. Deadpool laid down on his bed to watch you, his head resting on his hand.
“You wanna play Cards Against Humanity?” He said out of nowhere. “Except I don’t have the actual cards, and we can just act it out instead.”
“Uh, no thanks.” You said with a smile. You wished you could have the right comebacks for everything like he seemed to have. “Do you ever have any coherent thoughts?” You asked.
“Coherent? Isn’t that a word I learned in science class?” He said. “Y’know, I think it is. Wait no. Cohesive?”
Had he purposely built a wall around himself? Blocking his true feelings and thoughts, or was he just crazy? You’d try another route.
“So, why do you want to go on this mission? You seem more like a solo kind of guy.” You said throwing your towel on the ground.
“Ha. I am a solo kind of guy. With most things. I am a mercenary after all. The Merc’ with the Mouth.” He said proudly. “Also, the dude we’re going after burned down one of my sponsor's buildings. And sort of ruined my sponsor's girlfriend with energy-bolt thingies.”
You nodded, and thought over the mission. For you, the main goal was to track down the self-named supervillain “Blastoid”, subdue him, and capture him alive. Then wait for backup to transport him to a containment facility. Blastoid was a mutant gone bad, and he had the ability to shoot concentrated blasts of energy from his palms. He wasn't even a level three mutant though, and he wouldn't be hard to capture.
“You’re not going to kill him, are you?” You said slowly, hoping to get the point across. Deadpool was a mercenary. Mercenaries kill people for a living. “I need him alive.”
“Uh. No? I won't kill him...” He said it like a question. You’d have to keep an eye on him.
“The Merc’ with the Mouth, huh? What else do they call you?” You said, changing the subject. You realized that in order to keep up with Deadpool’s demeanor, you’d have to speak as you would with a child to keep his interest. A bored Deadpool sounded like a dangerous Deadpool. More than he already was, anyway.
“The Regenerating Degenerate. And recently The Crimson Nutcase. I’ve got some other ones, but the writer of this fic was to lazy to look up the others.” He said.
You brushed off his perplexing comment at the end of the sentence. “You can regenerate?” You knew he was a mutant, but you weren’t sure about what kind.
“Wanna see?” He asked, reached over the side of the bed, pulling one of the katanas out of the harness holder.
“Uh...” You started, but it was too late. “Wait! Wait!”
He sliced his hand off.
“Son of a—” He let out an odd high-pitched cross between a laugh and a girl scream. Blood spattered all over the bed cover. You grimaced, but watched with interest as his picked up his severed hand. He held it back to the bleeding stump of his arm, and it reattached itself. Your jaw was still slightly slack.
“I didn’t feel like growing a new one.” He said with a laugh.
“It’s cool, but it’s disgusting.” You said blatantly. Deadpool stood up and bunched the ruined cover up and tossed it onto the floor near your towel before the blood soaked into the sheets underneath. You set the alarm for early in the morning.
“I sleep naked, BT-dubs.” He said, beginning to take off his mask.
“At least turn the lights out first.” You grumbled, going under your bed covers and turning away from him. With no doubt, he’d actually do it and strip naked.
“My body’s that ugly?” He said with feigned hurt, going to switch the light off.
“You know that’s not what I meant.” You said, shaking your head. The room went dark. “You better stay on your half of the room.” You warned. You feared that warnings were like invitations to Deadpool. Like toddler reverse-psychology.
He laughed. “You can call me Wade Wilson now. If you know what I mean.” He said in a mock suggestive voice.
“Ew.” You said, your smile invisible to him. You hoped he didn’t have night vision or something. Despite your nap in the car, you were tired again.
“I don’t know what you think of me, but I kind of hope it’s X-rated.” He said.
“I’m going to sleep. The only thing I think of you right now is that I wish you’d be quiet.” You said. Your tone wasn’t very harsh. It probably wouldn’t do anything.
It was quiet for a few moments, but the peace was short-lived.
“Have you ever imagined a world with no hypothetical situations?”
“Shut up.” You said. You sounded like the Grumpy Cat meme.
“Okay. Goodnight.” He said.
“Goodnight, Wade.” You replied.
“Sleep tight. Don’t let the bedbugs—” He started, but you cut him off.
“Shh.” It was a bit louder than before.
“Okay... Got any grapes?” He said, as though he had no control of his words. He probably didn’t.
“Wade!” You said, loudly, trying not to laugh. That made him finally quiet, and he fell asleep.
Your thoughts of him weren’t exactly X-rated, but his unusual mannerisms and sharp wit had definitely caught your interest.