|Oh, how we spam you folks
||[Dec. 23rd, 2007|01:39 pm]
Cable x Deadpool
Yet more of the insane AU from myself and halfnorn.|
One day we'll sort them chronologically.
Title: Don't Believe The Narrative. It Lies.
Pairing: Oh, totally Cable/Deadpool (Set just after Two Guys Walk Into A Bar In Intercourse, Pennsylvania... Again)
The battle was finally over now. Sure, there was crap to rebuild and a good number of systems to fix, but people were on that already. Nate's fun cult, to be exact. Wade had to admit that they were damn useful.
They had won. (Ticker tape parades for everyone!) Though, Wade wasn't sure exactly what they'd won other than a continued existence here on the island. He wasn't complaining however. It was nice and sunny and he could work on his tan... if he actually tanned.
He couldn't sleep. Every time he lay down, that nervous energy-- adrenaline leftover from before probably --would keep him from closing his eyes for more than a few seconds.
So, he had the television on. Golden Girls, of course. He loved Nick At Nite for that so damn much. He twirled a sword absentmindedly as he watched. Like it was a baton in a really twisted school's color guard. (Oh, Bea. Your dulcet tones do nothing for me tonight.)
With a sigh he sheathed the sword, making his way to the window to indulge in something he'd gotten far too used to doing since he came here. After each attack or fight he found himself here.
Outside the window of Jean and Terry's room.
Slipping in quietly to not wake them, he checked to make sure they were safe. It was stupid probably. Best security in the world, yadda, yadda, yadda... But he needed to check. Just needed to.
He pushed the small knife Terry didn't think her daddies knew about under her pillow, hiding it from sight better. Nate might have issues with her being so heavily armed, but he wasn't going to take them away when their life was filled with crazy attacks from anyone from Sinister to that moron Penance. It was still a dumb costume, damn it.
Stopping himself before he did anything too stupid like pull their blankets up more or give a kiss on their foreheads-- He was not some cheesy dad from a show on the CW. Not to mention it'd wake them right up and he'd get yelled at for 'invading their personal space' or whatever they were calling it nowadays. --He went back to the window, pausing there for a moment.
Left was the direction back to his room and some classic Betty White humor. Right was the direction of Nate's room.
He stayed there, crouched in the window frame for a very long time. Long to him, at least. No more than a few minutes to anyone watching.
He went right.
Nate must've been more tired from the fight than he had let on. (What a shocker, Nate not letting on about a weakness! Stop the presses people, we've got a story!) So when Wade silently landed on the floor of his room-- no shoes, no weapons clanking, in only his narcissistic pajamas --there wasn't so much of a stir from the sprawling figure on the bed.
Wade looked him over for a moment, silent and still as he watched the rhythmic rise and fall of Nate's chest. He really should go back to his room, forget what happened a day before in the mens' room and have a beer or ten to fall asleep.
But he didn't. Now was a good a time as any to get that relaxed Nate he had wanted after they had finished in Pennsylvania. Probably wouldn't get another chance if he didn't push now. Repression was fun and all, but it was murder on his libido.
He slipped into bed, finally rousing Nate from the deep sleep he was in.
Nate blinked a few times, still half asleep. "Wade, wha--"
"Shh, sleep time now," Wade interrupted, pushing him a bit to fit in the bed comfortably. The sprawling was more adorable than Wade felt comfortable expressing with his masculinity so damaged already by being so schoompy over his girls, but he didn't want to fall off because Nate was a giant. "You can lecture in the morning."
He closed his eyes, settling in close and waiting for Nate to wake up completely and push him away.
Waited some more. (Hey, when did Nate start smelling so nice? Oughta ask him what shampoo he uses.)
Nate slowly relaxed, apparently not finding this a battle worth fighting tonight. He want still and slowly fell back into that sleep rhythm from before the interruption.
Wade would very much like to say he did not smile at that and snuggle closer. Very much so. But the narrative would prove him wrong as he did just that.
If anyone asked, he was tired and the poor writing was to be blamed on the lack of Bea Arthur.
Title: How Is It Supposed To Come Out?!
Pairing: Pre-Everything. (Set before That Goddamn Phoenix Force (Or Whatever))
Rating: PG-13 For some mild cursing and anatomical impossibilities.
Waiting rooms, in Wade's opinion, sucked.
Sure, you got to be judged by Goofus and Gallant in Highlights, but really, where was the fun in that? Not to mention what a rip off it was of him and Captain America.
Or was it the other way around? He could never tell.
And the Cosmo was actually pretty damn enlightening about why exactly he couldn't get a man. He made a mental note to get his nails done over the weekend so he could hit the clubs to pick up Mr. Right.
He whistled Queen, picking at his nails with a small knife he had produced from somewhere that was best left vague. "I cant get over the way you love me like you do..." Ooo! An old issue of National Geographic!
Finally, after he was halfway through an article on snakes in New Zealand, a woman appeared, dressed delightfully like a nurse from One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. "Deadpool?" She looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. "Go to the room on the right, please."
Wade was up and on the his way there in a flash, passing by her, he couldn't help but comment, "You know, a few new magazines would go a long way out there. Nothing too crazy. Maybe a Elle or a Marie Claire. Ya know? Spice it up a bit!"
The Night Nurse rolled her eyes, waving him toward the specified room.
Plopping down on exam table, Wade demurely crossed his legs, glancing around at all the normal doctor's office things. And not so normal. Eeesh.
"Ooo! Cotton balls! What are those really for, anyway? Do you make adorable little sheep in your spare time? I won't judge. I think it's wonderful that you stay so young through your work."
She'd met him before at his first visit, so the Night Nurse did little more than roll her eyes and glance over his chart. "Still nauseous in the mornings?"
Wade grinned and nodded, place his hands on the table beneath him, one on each side as he kicked his legs like a child. "Pretty much. It's getting better though. Figured out what's wrong with me doc? Is it cancer? Do I have the cancer?"
"Stop that," She replied calmly, sitting down in a chair near the table. "Lay back, please."
"What, not even gonna buy me dinner first? Scandalous!" Wade replied, laying back as instructed. A hint of worry came through his features as she avoided his question. "But, uh, seriously... Figured it out yet?"
Shushing him again, Linda started to press on his abdomen, gently but firmly. She hummed thoughtfully and went back to the chart. The mysterious chart.
Wade wasn't going to freak out over what she was doing, nope. Because clearly nothing was really wrong here. Just routine check up. That she called him in for after his first visit to complain about the vomiting int the mornings.
"At the risk of stealing a trademarked line... what's up doc?" He asked, trying to look at the chart from his position on the bed. "Is it bad?"
She sat back, amusement and disbelief on her face as she shook her head. "That would depend on how you look at it," She said calmly. Not about to laugh at all. Nope. "Congratulations, you're pregnant."
And now was the time to ruthlessly abuse the ellipses privilege.
Wade stared. And then stared some more. And then, to switch things up... he stared even more.
"This is a joke, right? I'm on Candid Camera, oh Allen Funt, you kooky man," Wade said, forcing a chuckle.
The Night Nurse? Didn't laugh.
This was really starting to freak Wade out a bit.
She patted him on the knee, keeping a straight face during the whole thing. "I will go contact a few... specialists to help this along," She said, turning to leave the room. And Wade alone.
With the baby.
(This is the worst joke ever. How is the baby supposed to come out?)
He poked his stomach. "How are you supposed to come out?!" Ahh, there was the panic he had been waiting for. "'Cause I'm lackin' in that type of a womanly bits! Where the hell is my editor?! How did this make it past the planning stage?!"
His stomach was eerily silent in response.