David & Wade | Thursday Afternoon (backdated)

[x-deadpool.livejournal.com]

Wade brings David turkey - because what's better on Thanksgiving than turkey coma on top of jet lag? They discuss a variety of things.


Thanksgiving. A time for giving thanks for all the blessings in your life. It was such an American holiday. Well, David supposed he was thankful for the fact that he was still alive, and that this visit to the mansion was less life-threatening than his previous two. On behalf of all the people in the world, he was also thankful that the sky was blue and the grass was green and that there was still oxygen left in the air…

Sitting – or collapsing, really – on the couch, David crossed his legs ankle to knee and prepared to take a short snooze. He probably would have helped, except that he had already brought the wine, cider and the host’s girlfriend, which meant that his part in the preparations was pretty much done. Besides, all the youthful energy in the mansion was sapping his away. So with one last survey of the rec room, the German spy allowed his one-tonne eyelids to slip shut.

Wade sort of thought it was funny, how people considered him the host of this thing. He'd fried a turkey whole, he'd told a lot of people to bring a lot of different stuff, and that was about the extent of his participation. The football game earlier had been fun, but he was pretty much looking forward to sitting his overfull self down and watching a game now. Not that he really cared about football one way or the other, but just sitting down would be nice.

Carrying a plate full of food into the rec room, Wade poked the guy on the couch in the shoulder and said, "Dude, eat before you pass out. Turkey comas are way better than like. Jetlag comas or whatever it is you've got going on right now. Also, if you eat, I won't feel guilty turning on the TV. Thanks for the cider - it's pretty tasty." He showed the man the two bottles he had in his free hand, then offered one to him. "I'm Wade, by the way, and I'm going to sit down, so take the plate."

Starting at the poke to his shoulder, David sat up and stared at the person belonging to the offending digit. He had almost reached for the gun that was not there before he remembered that he was currently in the US, and relatively safe in Charles Xavier’s mansion.

“Hi,” he greeted the older man plainly, clearly not in as chatty a mood as Wade was. But he blinked the sleep from his eyes and obligingly grabbed the offered plate and bottle from him before relaxing back into the seat. “Thank you. And you’re welcome. Marie-Ange told you I was up here?”

"Something like that," Wade said, settling on the other end of the couch and taking a sip of his cider. Turning on the TV, he muted the volume and let the silence linger as he switched channels, ostensibly looking for a football game to watch. "So what brings you Stateside?"

“Work,” David shrugged, leaning down so that he could place his cider on the floor. “Was working in France. Lost my job. Heard that the snow valley centre had an opening for a paper pusher so I flew in for the interview.” And then, before he stuffed his face and forgot. “I’m David. Pleasure to meet you.”

Plate balanced on his lap, David picked up a slice of fried turkey (who needed utensils anyway?) and swiped it through the generous dollop of cranberry sauce on the plate. Popping it into his mouth, he hummed as he chewed, appreciative of the fact that he had, effectively, been served hot food that he had not cooked.

"But you worked for Snow Valley before?" Wade figured he had to be involved in some shady dealings, which didn't bother him insofar as the guy being there was concerned. Mostly he wanted to ferret out whether the guy had come in hot or not. He'd have to get The Wheeze involved to double check. Doug was awesome, but Doug was distracted by turkey and peanut butter. "Jubes mentioned something about clocks."

Quirking a brow at Wade, David masked his thoughtfulness with a gesture for him to wait until he had swallowed his food. When awfully curious people began hedging for information, alarm bells started echoing across the surface of his skull and wired traps activated that would render him physically incapable of blabbing classified information despite how exhausted he was. Well, not really. But he was wary of the fact that Wade may or may not know things. But because he did not know for sure, and the last thing he needed now was being chewed out like a fresh cadet, he merely nodded and chuckled after he had swallowed.

“Why am I not surprised that that’s the first thing Jubilation mentions,” he commented wryly by way of answer, shoving another piece of sauce-slathered meat into his mouth. Chewing time was just the right amount of time necessary for his sludgy brain to process a response before it was uttered. “I restore antique cuckoo clocks as a hobby.”

"What's the attraction of cuckoo clocks and can you make them say anything more interesting that 'cuckoo?'" Wade's question was oddly serious, considering there was a muted football game on the TV and North's mouth was full of turkey.

“There’s some mechanism and woodwork knowledge involved,” David replied, casting an amused glance Wade’s way. “It’s detailed work that requires concentration. So it’s good for those days when you don’t want to think about anything else. Or when you need to make a quick buck.” His other hobby was taking apart guns and putting them back together again, so this was probably a safer option. “And I could make it sing a bloody aria if I wanted it to.”

"Sweet," Wade said, grinning. He hadn't come to a conclusion as to whether or not the guy might accidentally pose a threat, but he guessed that was what all the other people at Snow Valley were for. He was still going to ask The Wheeze to look into the guy, though. Some habits die hard - and some were pretty much immortal when there were kids involved. "So if I ask really nicely and possibly offer some form of compensation, could you make a cuckoo clock that plays the Batman theme song with a bird that switches hats every couple hours?"

“I don’t make them,” David pointed out, propping his head up on his palm with his elbow on the armrest. “I restore them. Generally antique German ones.”

Still, it was an interesting request. If slightly juvenile. He knew that most traditional clock makers would be aghast at the mere suggestion of it, but it was certainly doable. He hummed a few bars of the theme song, then snorted. “If you go on e-bay and buy a decent clock with a carousel and space in the back for a music box, I could give you the annoying theme song and a spinning batman.” The switching of hats would take a little more ingenuity, but as long as Wade paid for the materials, David saw it as a ‘why not?’ situation.

Wade considered that for a long moment, then nodded. "Done - can you have it restored and all that before Christmas? I'd like to give it as a gift - and hey, is there a way you can put in a switch to turn off the theme song so Molly's suitemate doesn't kill her in the middle of the night?"

David laughed, glad that his mouth was not full at that moment. “I can try. But you have to adjust your expectations a little if you want it by Christmas. Perhaps cull the idea of switching the cuckoo bird’s hats, ja?”

Tapping an index finger against his chin, David ran the idea over in his head again. He could make the batman figurines, but sourcing for the music box might take some time. “The clock should be in good condition and have the general look that you want, such that I won’t have to do much restoring, if any at all. I’ll mostly just want to have to replace the figurines with the batman ones, and the old music box with the theme song. Maybe even paint it to fit the theme.

“And if you want a switch to turn off the calls at night,” which would indeed drive a sane person crazy, as far as he was concerned. “I suggest you buy a model that comes with the switch already installed.” His work would be minimal, but given the short notice, that was for the best. “Doable?”

"Absolutely," Wade said, grinning as he offered David his free hand to shake. "I think she'll like it. Molly's got a thing for hats, so that was why I was thinking having the batmen switch hats would be good, but given time constraints, I think you're right."

Shaking Wade’s hand awkwardly with his left, seeing that his right was greasy and one did not bite the hand that feeds, David nodded. “I will take great care with the hats,” he assured him. “Although, I have to ask: Who is Molly?”

"One of the students here," Wade replied. "It's her first holiday season away from her parents and presents won't make up for not being with them, but maybe they'll distract her a bit or make her feel a little better. I don't know." He shrugged, not uncomfortable so much as a little self-conscious and trying to hide it. Usually he didn't ask other people to participate in the gifting process - he just got his people what he thought they'd like and that was that. "She's thirteen and likes Batman," he said, quirking a smile.

“Sounds precious.” David smiled a small smile of his own and returned to scarfing down his lunch. Wade’s sentimentalism was, perhaps, a tad contagious. He had never quite gotten into the habit of going out of his way to obtain gifts. It used to be a pint for a pint back then. After that, it just never seemed necessary. Now knowing whom he was customising the clock for, David felt better able to put what little he had left of his heart into it.

"Pretty much," Wade said, nodding. "Course, she's got this bad habit of nearly giving me a heart attack every couple months." He shook his head. "Like, we found out she was invulnerable after she dropped a boulder on herself."

“What was she supposed to be, if not invulnerable?” Amused, David picked apart the last pieces of meat on his place and popped one into his mouth. Wade sounded like a father, truth be told. He was obviously fond of this Molly girl.

"Super strong," Wade answered, still smiling a little. "So we figured she could lift boulders, that was no problem. It was just when she dropped the boulder on her head that everybody freaked out because, hi - squished kid."

“Heart jump out of your throat? Hysterical and panicked screaming?” He had not been there, and so could not sympathise with any feelings of horror. But David had enough of an imagination. What he would have been more interested in, however, was “how did the kid react?”

Wade snorted, having to laugh a little despite himself. "Definitely heart-stopping. Me and Kyle tried to move the boulder, but we couldn't - it was too big. So we got one of the TKs to do it. She was fine, just passed out. Using her powers still made her fall asleep or something at that point. I think she's stopped that now, though." He wasn't even sure why he was talking about this - Molly had definitely not been on his list of things to discuss when he brought North dinner. "Anyway, that's all old news. What're you going to be doing at Snow Valley?"

Nearly give the adults a heart attack while passed out beneath a boulder. David made a mental note to check out one 13-year-old Molly. She seemed the entertaining sort. First, however, he had to wash down his food with a mouthful of cider before replying.

“Like I said, paperwork,” David said drily, reaching over so that he could place to the plate on the coffee table. Turkey coma would definitely be hitting him soon. “Brain-numbing, tear-inducing, but too-important-to-ignore paperwork. I only hope that they’ve had someone look after the system while I was away.” Because two years’ worth of document backlog would be ridiculous, even for the Centre. Then, belatedly, “I’m the HR Manager.”

"Ah, paperwork," Wade said, shaking his head. "What would the world do without it?"

“Half of them would be out of jobs,” David pointed out, hiding a smirk behind his bottle.

Wade kept files. He kept files in many different locations because before he accepted a contract, he liked to do a bit of background research. That meant he had dossiers on every mark he'd ever taken out as well as all the clients he'd ever protected and the many, varied people who posed threats to those clients. He'd had almost three decades to accumulate paperwork. Offering North the bottom of his bottle so they could clink them together, Wade said, "I'll drink to that."