Who: David Loki davidloki & Wade Wilson wade What: Random Run-In When: Late October Where: Norm's Restaurant Rating/Warnings: Wade Wilson. He is his own warning. Though it's not too bad. Some language and Wade being Wade Status: Closed/Completed GDoc
~*~
Greasy food, and coffee so stout it might sprout legs and walk away were staples in David's diet. The coffee at Norm's wasn't half bad, and the food? Well, it was better than most places around here. David wasn't complaining, it was warm, filling and most of all kept him going since it was bound to be a long night.
He'd just finished up a round of interviews with a few folks that lived down the way from where a shooting had taken place. David kept looking over his notes as he sipped idly on his coffee, trying to see if there were any new pieces of information that stuck out to him that might help him solve the case.
As it was, David didn't see anything new, so he shut his notebook and concentrated on finishing his fries.
He sat at the counter, back to the door, although each time it opened, he'd turn slightly in his seat to see who had come in. There didn't appear to be anything out of the ordinary as far as he concerned. He reached over, picking up a discarded newspaper to read through while he finished up his dinner when he sensed someone near him. He turned his head to see someone sit beside him, and curiously he raised a brow over at them.
David gave a nod of his head, "Hey." He murmured, eyes turning back to his paper.
~*~
"Hey," Wade replied with a smile which seemed too wide for his face, "Sorry, taking this seat because I have this thing against eating alone."
He had never been one to tiptoe around. Not even on stealth missions. That might have been one of the reasons he hadn't been called upon to go on many stealth missions. Huh. Hadn't thought of that before.
Fries.
Gravy.
Raising his hand, Wade waved it in the air wildly until a perplexed waitress came over to him, "Pick me! Ooh, pick me! Me! Yes! Okay. I think I'm thinking fries. And gravy. Like the good gravy. You have gravy right? Oh! Oh! And do you have Coca Cola? Like 'It's The Real Thing' Coca Cola? Okay. You're awesome. I want that, too. Thanks so much."
She backed away with a muttered affirmation which Wade figured was better than screaming for help or asking him to get out. Both had happened before. He'd been forcibly ejected from a lot worse looking places than Norm's and it wouldn't kill him if he got tossed out of there too. Wade had a hard ego to crush. Being the guy who constantly beat death had its advantages though he wasn't too sure he should think 'complete lack of interest in common courtesy or normal behavior' was an advantage.
"So, I'm Wade and I'm way more interesting than that paper. You're probably police and I imagine the interesting thing about you is whether or not you've ever been on the take. My guess? No. You look too Last Boy Scout for that. Am I right? You can answer. I won't remember we even talked by tomorrow most likely. Unless you make me sick. Then I might have to make note of you so I can track you down and kill you."
He shrugged before taking the sugar container from in front of his dinner companion to start trying to stack sugar cubes in a haphazard manner.
~*~
David lifted a shoulder, not caring that the man sat down beside him because he didn't like to eat alone. "Don't matter to me." He really didn't think that the man would speak again, although he was very wrong.
As he began to wave his arm and call at the waitress, David turned his head to look over at him a brow quirking up slightly at his antics. Now, his dinner was definitely turning into something stranger than he thought it would.
Picking up his coffee, David took a sip of the bitter black liquid, and sat it back down just in time for the man, or Wade as he learned, to ramble on. Licking his lips, David chuckled and shook his head. Most people would've thought that he had accepted bribes in the past due to the tattoos that adorned his body. Reaching up, David rubbed his hand over his chin and gave a slight nod.
"David, yes I'm a detective, and you're right. I've never taken a bribe." The paper was discarded and forgotten for now. It was odd that he would outright threaten a police officer, though David didn't take that threat too seriously. There was a good possibility that he would do just that, people were fucking insane these days, and there was a lot of insanity around Orange County, that was for damned sure.
"As for making you sick? I doubt it. I'm feeling just fine these days, but that's not saying someone else you've come into contact with today might do that." He lifted a shoulder, taking another sip of his coffee before the waitress came to fill his cup back up and place Wade's coke down in front of him.
"So far I'm seeing you're more interesting than the paper. You always this hyper or did you have enough caffeine to kill a small child this morning?"
~*~
"Try to avoid caffeine for the most part. Or I'm supposed to and I don't avoid it. Can't really remember. Currently? I'm just a little up because I have an entire week of no work where I'm getting paid to literally not work. It's amazing. People are incredibly shitty, you know?"
The waitress sat Wade's soda down in front of him as if she were giving a live mouse to a rattlesnake. He grinned at her before snatching it much the same way a snake would go for its prey. Soda was incredibly bad for him according to all his doctors. Who were they to say what he got to eat or drink though? Those assholes used to keep him too sick to eat or drink anything. He'd wound up skinnier than a European supermodel during Fashion Week.
Wade sipped at his soda for approximately ten seconds before starting to blow bubbles in it with his straw. He stopped to glare at it as if it had betrayed him when the sticky liquid leaked over the side onto his hand. Stupid soda glass. Should have been made taller. He wished he had a wet nap. Oh well, next time he'd go for shrimp. They always had wet naps on the tables. Sometimes they had neat sharp objects, too. Always a fun way to spend a meal.
He licked his hand while studying David, deciding, "You look healthy enough. My immune system is just shit. Happens to the best of us. And me. I would know it was you though since I haven't gotten close enough to exchange germs with anyone else today and I haven't got a reason to either. Not working. After this? I'm heading back to my own private hovel to watch reruns of The Golden Girls until I fall asleep and hopefully get a nice wet dream about Bea Arthur. Interesting? I definitely fit that bill. Until you hear what I do with my free time. Then I'm just some guy."
~*~
David couldn't argue with that. People were incredibly shitty. David saw it day in and day out in his line of work. Before he'd became a police officer, he hadn't realized how many horrible things that people could and would do to each other. He could remember the first time he'd been called out to a homicide scene. He'd lost his lunch at the sight. "Can't argue with that. Hope you have a good week off." He gave a small tip of his head in Wade's direction.
The guy was like a big kid, but that was none of David's business. He didn't know this guy's story, although if he'd to wager a guess he'd think that he was some sort of junkie, or simply crazy. Part of him thought the latter was true.
David picked up his coffee, taking a couple of sips while Wade played with his own drink. He'd probably leave sometime soon, he had a few more interviews to get through and then the paperwork about said interviews once he was back at the station. There was no rest for the weary, and knowing David he'd probably just stay at the station again tonight.
He looked back over at Wade as he began talking. That had to suck. David's immune system was good, he was rarely sick anymore these days so that was a plus. Back when he'd first started he'd always been down with something, they'd told him that it was because of the exposure to all sorts of nasty things and he could believe that. "Fair enough, but I think you should be fine." He couldn't help but smile at what he said in regards to Bea Arthur. Now, that was interesting. He didn't know many people who would profess to wanting to have a wet dream about her, but to each their own. "I'd say you do fit that bill, but I think everyone is interesting in their own way. Me? It'll be work again after this. Definitely not interesting, but it is what it is."
~*~
Soda didn't last nearly long enough. Especially when it came in short glasses. Wade glared at his empty glass while the cop talked. The guy wasn't the most interesting dinner companion, but he wasn't bad looking which helped. Ugly people tended to cause Wade to have even less patience than usual. They didn't necessarily have to be physically ugly for that to be the case either. The old saying about beauty on the inside was true.
Wade could tell ugly when he saw it.
"Please. You probably get off on saving innocent children from evil villains. You got that look to you: Savior Type. It's not a bad look for you either. I was just thinking at least you're pretty."
He shrugged before raising his empty glass to hand it to the waitress as she was walking by. Timing was everything in his job. She looked as if Wade had hit her with something as she realized he'd gotten the glass into her hand without stopping her. All he did was smile. It wasn't reassuring. Wade had a tendency not to be very reassuring for people which wasn't entirely his fault. Cancer cures seemed to take their toll on a person's mental stability.
Leaning over, he mock whispered, "She got spooked because I slipped her a glass without her looking. Imagine how she'd have reacted if I handed her my gun. Carrying today only because the guy paying me to not follow him around? Happens to like to shoot first and ask questions later. Gotta love the type."
Wade wasn't a fan of guns really. He carried only because he'd gotten sick to the stage where it was easier to shoot than to have to try to wrangle someone around physically. There was only so much his body allowed him to do on days he was feeling particularly bad. Doctors recommended all sorts of idiotic things from Vitamin D supplements to increased caffeine intake. None of it made him feel the way he had when he was in the service, before the cancer. They didn't make pills for that kind of physical improvement.
~*~
Chuckling David raised his cup of coffee back up to his lips. He did have a great success rate when it came to cases he'd solved. David didn't like to brag about that, however, and tended to keep mum on that information. It did tend to come out though when people asked his chief about his credentials.
David didn't mind that, people needed to be confident in his skills as a detective, but other people didn't need to know about it. "Yeah, at least I do have that going for me."
He watched Wade slide the glass back to the woman before she even realized what was going on.
That was impressive, and David had this overwhelming urge to check his back pocket for his wallet. He resisted the urge to reach back to check for it, and instead finished off the last of his coffee. "I can't blame you for carrying. Are you a PI?" He waved his hand over his cup of coffee when the waitress returned with Wade's full glass of Coke, indicating that he didn't want another refill.
~*~
The Real Thing ™ occupied Wade's attention while he tried to think of what he was supposed to answer for the guy at his side. There was always a question, wasn't there? People were nosey by nature. He wouldn't have minded so much if he hadn't already been under stress from having to eat in public in order to avoid dining alone. Wade figured it out within a few minutes -something about work, oh, what kind of work did he do- by the process of elimination.
"Yeah. Former government gun, current PI. That's me. I got all the legal permits, Officer. I promise."
He'd be willing to whip them out, too. Wade didn't like prison. There were too many junkies and sickies in lock-ups. Freedom was something he believed belonged to the mind which kept him happy whether he was in a jail cell or on a beach. Sickness was its own jail sentence for him though because Wade wound up trapped inside his own failing body with no way out except for taking drugs after drugs to try to beat it all back.
Again.
"You ever considered being anything other than a cop?"
Some cops got the itch to do something different. Wade knew a few who were even good guys. They got tired of seeing the bad guys walk on technicalities or for having enough money to pay a lawyer who could shoot them a Get Out of Jail Free card from one of those t-shirt launchers at stadiums with their skills. Those were the guys Wade liked to work with when he had to take on a partner.
He liked being the only bad guy in his life.
~*~
David lifted a hand, "I figured as much, and it's fine. I don't need to see any papers." It was rare to meet a PI that wasn't carrying, or that didn't have papers. Besides, David didn't have it in him right now to ask him for them anyway. He had other things on his mind that he needed to work through, and he had to get to the bottom of the shooting.
The waitress came over with David's bill, placing it down in front of him before taking away his finished plates.
There was a time when David thought he'd have a much different life. He figured that if he'd kept on the same path he'd been on, that he'd be a very rich drug dealer or in prison. David never wanted to go to prison. Spending a couple of nights in county lockup had been enough for him, although he'd gone back a few more times after that which that was when his mind had been changed.
"Nope, can't say that I have after I figured everything out." He reached into his back pocket finally, pulling out his wallet before laying enough money to cover his meal and a tip for the waitress. "Well, there might've been a time when I was younger that I wanted to be an archaeologist but it's nowhere near as cool as the movies make it out to be."
~*~
Eating was something Wade could do while still talking without spraying it around. It was his magic trick. No one ever noticed how much he put away while yammering on about absolutely nothing. The fact he could eat constantly was something he blamed on his metabolism being messed up from all the chemo and radiation. Who knew what that shit had really done to him? Wade had no faith in doctors anymore. They were all moneygrubbing liars in his opinion.
He worked on finishing his fries while he listened to see if this cop was one of the die hard types.
Figured he would be.
The Last Boyscout types usually were all devotion. Wade liked that and hated it at the same time. Why couldn't he have been one of the good guys? He'd tried. Doing the military thing had been something of an attempt to serve his country. Or an attempt to legally shoot people. Same difference since one thing led to the other. Wade took on cases for battered wives as well as people with too much money and too little conscience.
"I wish I was as set in my line of work as you are," Wade tossed out enough cash to cover his bill and leave some for a tip, "Certainty is something not to be taken for granted. I'm clinically insane and I know that."
He wondered what kind of case had this guy looking so haunted. Probably a kid. Those were the worst. Even Wade hated working a case with a kid though he had none of his own nor would he ever have any. The treatments had ended that future for him. Not that he minded. Wade figured it was the best way to get out of wearing a rubber ever. He could have his fun and no consequences. What guy wouldn't like that?
Other than some guy who thought he could make a family for himself to replace whatever shitty one he'd been given at birth.
Wade was crazy, but he wasn't that kind of crazy.
"Thanks for sharing a meal. Catch you around again if you eat here often."
He stood up to waggle his fingers in a toodle-oo to the waitress who seemed to shrink back even though he was smiling at her. Wade was used to that, too. He wasn't the kind to instill faith in other people. Oh well, at least dinner had been good and he had zero complaints about meeting a decent cop. Faith in humanity was something he was often sorely lacking. He could use all the help he could get on that front to keep him from becoming the next shooter on the grassy knoll.