WHO: Wade Wilson and Theresa Cassidy (both 616) WHEN: The day she arrived, I think it was the 1st. WHERE: Their apartment WHAT: Wade shows Terry how to play Pokemon. STATUS/RATING: COMPLETE! PG-13 for adult themes and Wade's terrible mind.
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"I hate you. I tend to be a lighthearted, fun-loving guy. I don't hate very often. But you.... you bitch... I hate you with every fiber of my BEING."
Those venomous words dripped from the mouth of Wade Wilson, the mercenary known as Deadpool... as he lay on the sofa of his apartment, wearing just his mask and a pair of Spongebob Squarepants boxer shorts. But who or what was he talking to with such anger? With such bile?
Come on. This was Deadpool.
He was talking to his 3DS system, on which he was currently playing Pokemon X.
"Seriously..... a pox on you Diantha! A POX ON YOU AND YOUR ENTIRE FAMILY!!!!"
He'd been here since this mission to protect the reality-displaced refugees had begun, having volunteered in some poor, misguided attempt to make others see him as a hero. Honestly? He'd done more to make them see him as an unbelievable pain in the ass.
Terry has had a hard time lately. With the loss of her baby, her father, and one of her best friends, she was low. But she couldn’t get too low. She took over for Jamie when he disappeared. X-Factor needed her and she needed them. Without the group, she might spiral back into a bottle.
And now she was tossed into space. Maybe it was for the best. A change of scenery. A chance to start over.
She came to the apartment door and wondered if she should knock. No, it’s her apartment now too. She opened the door and walked in-- to see Wade. She hadn’t seen him since she had a one night stand with him. Spongebob boxers? “Whoa.”
Wade, who'd been firmly focused on his game, startled quickly when he heard a voice. "Hey! Knock! What if I was engaged in some hand to gland combat or som-" he began, only to lose his words, eyes widening under the mask, when he saw who was standing there. "Holy CRAP. It's the Ghost of Heartache Past..... Terry? I... I.... wow. You look great, babe...." He finally said, standing and giving her an awkward chuckle. "Geez. Either the dorks who write us really love us, or REALLY hate us. Kinda curious to see which direction this goes in..."
Terry’s nose wrinkled up as she squinted at him. “Write us? No, nevermind. I don’t want to know.” There was a small smile when he said she looked great. It was nice to hear, especially with how she’d been feeling lately.. “What are you doing here?” Some detective you are, Cassidy.
"I volunteered to help out, protect the refugees, stuff like that. Looks good on the ol' "hero resume', yanno? Plus it gives me a chance to hang out with my genderbent doppleganger and maybe score some alien trim, so GO WADE!" He said sheepishly, before feeling an eyebrow go up underneath his mask. Oh, yeah. He JUST realized something. "Waitatic.... are you my new roomie?"
Terry closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. She needed a drink. “The universe yanks me from my time and you volunteered? And -- yeah, I guess I am your roommate. Is it just us?”
"TOTES!" Wade exclaimed, almost adorably excited. "Now we can have slumber parties, and brush each other's hair, and listen to One Direction albums..... OR, you know, we can just make like bunnies. That's an option too...." He trailed off, before taking a closer look at her. Despite his insanity and obnoxious nature, Wade could be quite observant. And he couldn't help but notice something that broke his heart. "You still look sad. I guess.... I was hoping that when you managed to get me outta your life, that maybe you found some kinda happiness."
Terry shook her head. “Wade, c’mon, you-- you’re not the center of my unhappiness. I was broke before you.” She sighed and crossed the room to sit on the couch he was once occupying. “Unless.. you know something I don’t know? I’m apparently from a different time than you.” She looked at the spot where two walls met and just stared. “I’m coming from losing my daddy, my baby, and Jamie all at once.”
".....does this mean no slumber parties? We don't HAVE to listen to One Direction...." He mumbled to himself, wondering if this version of her was any more stable than the one he'd known. He'd hated seeing the previously optimistic, good, true person she had been fall apart so badly. "Is there anything I can do to help? I have some Hot Pockets in the freezer..."
Terry sighed. “Can you just-- can you just sit here with me?” She wanted to be near another person. Even if it was Wade-- no, Wade was good. Wade never wanted anything from her. Wade loved her, always. “Just-- hold me.”
"Hey, hey.... c'mere." He told her, moving swiftly to wrap his arms around her as he sat down beside her, sighing happily at the old familiar scent of her shampoo. "You know I love you, ok? I love you like black people love Oprah."
The human contact was nice. Terry sighed. She felt happy for one fleeting moment. And then he said he loved her. “Don’t, Wade. Don’t do that to yourself.”
"....too much?" Wade asked, blinking under his mask before thinking for a long moment. "Ok, let me dial it back a little. I love you like black people love Tyler Perry. Like.... CURRENT Tyler Perry. After a gazillion Madea movies and Alex Cross. Not like.... 'just-made-Meet-The-Browns' Tyler Perry." Sigh. No words, folks. None.
Terry shook her head, “Maybe steer clear of the whole black people topic, Wade.” She laid her head against his chest. “Why are you wearing your mask when you’re by yourself, anyway?”
"Oh, I'm just playin'. I mean granted, that doesn't mean I'd say it in front of Luke Cage, but still." Was he trying to make her laugh? Was he just being the insane moron most people thought he truly was? Or maybe he was somewhere between the two. "As for the mask... well, just in case someone would happen to drop by unexpectedly, you know? I don't mind bein' caught in my Spongebob undies, but maskless? No way no how, senorita."
She smiled softly at the mention of Luke Cage. Yeah, Wade could probably make her laugh. But Terry sat up straight. She reached for his mask at the crown of his head. “You know I don’t care what you look like, right?”
"Still... I got WAY more of a chance at getting you to make out with me if you're not actively thinking about what I really look like. So, yeah: I think I'll keep it on til' I'm done mackin' on you here." Points for honesty, right? RIGHT? He smirked behind the material of the mask, and wagged his eyebrows. "I mean, rooming together and all... it's fate, right? I'd be a totally fantabulous boyfriend."
Terry grinned. Okay, he was cute. She released her hold on his mask. “You’re not my boyfriend, Wade.” The words sounded good, though. She wanted to do anything she could to make herself happy, even if it was something as stupid as that. “Not yet, at least.”
"So.... does that mean we can't take old one-eye to the optometrist yet?" Wade asked her in a tone so earnest and sweet it was easy to forget how technically vulgar what he just said to her actually was. "I mean, there really isn't anything on TV, and you don't strike me as an XBox kinda gal.... so we gotta make our own fun, right?"
“You’re not as smooth as you think you are, Wade.” She was still smiling, just a tiny bit. Terry reached for the 3Ds. “What’s this that you were yelling at?”
"I had my buddy Michael send me up one of the recent Pokemon games. Now I keep following Rocket around trying to capture him in a little ball." Wade said with a wink, caaaaaaasually sliding her onto his lap as they talked. Hey, if nothing else? He wanted some extreme, hardcore cuddles, ok? "Sometimes I think Michael Vick didnt really want to hurt those dogs, but he was dying to stage real-life pokemon battles."
Theresa wasn’t a tiny girl, so it wasn’t the most casual of movements. She laughed at him, though, thinking he was so smooth. She knew exactly what he was up to. And she was okay with that-- to be loved by someone, anyone, was a boost. She could feel her sadness lifting, if even for a few moments. With the 3Ds in hand, she opened the game. “What’s your team made of?”
"Greninja, Pangora, Xerneas, Zoroark, Tyrantrum, and the world's most kick-ass, powered up Bidoof." He said, hilariously not even having to THINK about it. "Seriously, if these were real? My Bidoof would whip the Hulk's big green ass. Word."
“You want to show me how to play this?” She settled back against him comfortably. His body was warm and solid. She missed him.
"As long as you don't mind Little Wade kinda having a mind of his own here...." He mumbled, as she was turning him on to a terrible degree just by shifting on his lap like that. "Then... yeah, I can teach you. If you like it, I can shoot someone and take theirs for you. Or, you know, have one sent up for you if you wanna be boring about it..."
“Little Wade? I don’t remember him being that little…” She made Wade’s character walk around on the screen, “Hey, this is easy!” She walked him into the tall grass…. “Oh no, I broke it!”
"Well, I was TRYING to be humble..." He snickered under his breath, before looking over her shoulder to look at what she was doing on the game. "No, you're fine. You're about to be in a battle. It's low level, so you should beat the thing like Hank Pym beat his wife."
Terry snapped the lid of the game closed and looked at his face. Well, his mask. “Wade. You can’t say shit like that. It’s not fucking funny!” Then she reopened the game and told his panda Pokemon to attack the little bird. “Talkin’ about Hank Pym like it’s a joke or something…” she mumbled.
Wade managed to bite back saying "...it's funny to ME....", knowing deep down that most of his insane remarks were only funny to him. "You're kinda sexy when you get all grumpy, babe... you know that?" He asked, before (as usual) continuing and more or less rambling. "I mean, you're sexy pretty much any other time too. I don't think it's out of the realm of possibility to hear me say 'Gee, Terry, you're really sexy when you're on the toilet...', but that might just be because I'm just a teensy bit insane in the brain."
Terry let out a loud laugh, “Ha ha! I did it!” She made the little bird Pokemon faint. “I killed it! --Wait, we’re not going to do any toilet stuff, Wade, just putting that out there now.” She leaned back against him, so that their faces were next to each other. She could feel the material of his mask on her cheek. “Thanks, though. It’s nice to hear that stuff.”
"If you think THAT'S nice... I got a few really awesome things in mind to welcome you to your new home...." Oh, geez. We all know where his brain was going with THAT. "I mean, it HAS been a while.... and the Golden Girls reruns don't start on TVLand for another couple hours...."
Terry leaned back and stretched with her arms up. She made the accompanied sound, somewhere between a grunt and a moan. “OH yeah? Like what?”
"I'm thinking we get you all naked, lay you down, and lemme use my mouth to make you make the kinda sounds that nobody's made since I read that they were making a seventh Star Wars movie..." Wade said, grinning mischievously beneath that mask. It was odd how, even with the mask covering his face, his admiration and attraction for her shone so brightly that you could somehow STILL see it.
Terry looked down at the DS. She fiddled with the volume setting-- music went quiet and then loud again. “I jus’ got here, Wade. You really want to?” She thought about the last time they were together-- she left as soon as they were done. She didn’t want to see him sad like that again. Well… clearly the answer would be to stick around. And it was her apartment, too. “Can’t we do something else?”
"Ouch. Well, I'll give ya one thing: when you're not interested? At least you don't lead a guy on." He mumbled, feeling the smile fading from his lips. "Tell ya what then, sweet thing: YOU tell ME what you'd like to do, and I'll make it happen. You want dinner? We'll have dinner. You want a movie? I'll get us a movie. You want dwarf bowling? I'll have a set of pins and Peter Dinklage sent up."
Terry sighed deeply. “It’s not that I’m not interested, Wade.” She closed her eyes and let out a breath. “I just don’t know how entertaining I’d be for you.”
"If it matters, you could lay there lifelessly and let me work my magic and I'd be happy as can be. Still though, I understand. You just got here, and you're not necessarily in a good place for that kinda stuff. " Wow... could Wade Wilson actually be learning a bit of empathy? Perhaps even, dare we say it, a bit of emotional maturity? "Plus, I'm used to you shooting me down like a teenaged kid in a hoodie." Yep, there went that. Sigh.
Terry’s eyes lit up. “Well. We could try something. You got any booze around these parts?”
"...you DO realize that's like asking Wolverine if he's got any cigars laying around. Of COURSE I do. Buuuuuut...." He paused, raising an eyebrow. "Isn't there someone in this room that shall remain nameless but isn't me that's supposed to be NOT drinking? Hmmmmmm?" Oh, part of him wanted to get her all liquored up, knowing what would likely follow. But the bigger part of him was too ridiculously in love with her to let any harm come to her.
Terry took Wade’s hand put it on her breast. “I’m going to ask again. Do you have any alcohol in his apartment?”
"OH SWEET BABY JESUS." Wade squeaked out when he felt his hand upon that firm, perfect breast. "I.... I.... humminahumminahummina.... not gonna let you do this, Terry. Even if it makes me want to go cry and take an extremely cold shower...."
“Gah, fine.” She still held his hand to her breast. Terry looked down at his hand. With a soft sigh, she pulled his hand away. “Look… do you want to show me around this place? There’s gotta be more than just this apartment.”
"Yeah.... I'll show you around." He said, showing enough maturity to not say a word about her attempt at using sex as a weapon, and not make her feel guilty about it. He knew she had a problem, and that he had to be there for her. Maybe he wasn't good for a lot... but he could take care of her. He WOULD take care of her. "There's actually a lotta cool stuff here. They tried to put enough of everything here that no matter what world the people are from, there's SOMETHING here to remind them of home. Plus, if all else fails, I'll introduce you to my genderbent self. She's even nuttier than I am."
Terry didn’t MEAN to use sex as a weapon. She wanted to feel something. Anything. And she thought being with Wade would do the trick. But her depression made her avoid all good things. She thought a little bit of liquor could beat down the depression for a bit. She didn’t know how to explain this to Wade, so she didn’t. “There’s a girl Wade?”
"Yeah. Maybe it makes me a little sick? But I think she's pretty hot. Plus, I'm almost 100% sure that if I slept with her it would just count as masturbation." Oh. Lovely, Wade. Really. Still... his jokes, his immaturity, in some ways his INSANITY, was to hide that he couldn't communicate his own emotions and feelings. "So, whaddaya say, Red? Dinner, shopping, shoot some pool... it's all up to you, babe."
“And what if I slept with her?” She chuckled. Terry stood up from her seat upon Wade’s lap and gestured to her clothes. “I should probably buy a change of these… and eat something… and I bet I’m better at pool than you are. Let’s do all of it.”
"You're ON, good-lookin'." Wade said, giving her a playful swat on the ass. Give the guy credit... dude could compartmentalize with the best of them. "But may God have mercy on your soul when we hit the Skee-Ball machines. I WILL END YOU."
Terry let out a yelp when he smacked her ass-- a yelp that probably hurt Wade’s ears. “No way, I play Skee-Ball by climbing up the ramp.”
"We shall see, woman." Wade said with a hilariously determined voice as he pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that said: "Special Olympics Dance Team"... but left his mask on. Sigh. "WE. SHALL. SEE."