Wow, she was nice. She was, like, gooey melted chocolate nice. In a good way, not like the kind that melts in your pocket and then you have to send your hero suit to the dry cleaners again.
Deadpool made a very specific mental note to not mess this up. Or if he did mess it up, to not mess it up until after he got her in bed, because then it wouldn't be as bad.
"Okay," he agreed, giving her a sheepish grin. "What time should I pick you up? And what's your favorite kind of flowers? You like flowers, right? You're not allergic or anything?"