Marie-Ange & Wade | Tuesday Evening (backdated)

[x-deadpool.livejournal.com]

Wade arranges a scavenger hunt on Valentine's Day for Marie-Ange that ends at Per Se.


Wade felt like his scavenger hunt idea had been pretty cunning - he'd covered all kinds of bases with it. For instance, if Marie-Ange happened to open the box containing her edible jelly bean mural the wrong way so the arrow was pointing to the left instead of the right, there was still a nicely pinned little note informing her that the arrow should be pointing to the right. And then the jelly beans told her where to go next.

He'd paid people to make sure she got the doughnut clue and the lolly pop clue and the one that he left at the bakery involving a lot of cupcakes and marzipan. Which meant that, if everything went according to plan, Marie-Ange would be arriving sometime soon. And if she didn't, he had a back-up plan. One wherein he called her and told her to show up where he was so he could follow through with the rest of his cunning plan.

Marie-Ange had just started to have some of the extras sent back to the brownstone in bakery boxes once she'd figured out the clue, and taken a photograph or two with her phone just to be sure. She just couldn't eat that many sweets, and some of them wouldn't keep and she knew most of those places made delicious goods, especially that bakery that Jake and Adrienne liked so much, and so she didn't want to waste them. She was entirely convinced Wade was insane, but in the good way that meant she wasn't always diving headfirst into work to see if anything could be found of the people complicating Wanda's life, or New Son or where Mister Barnes daughter had gone, or trying to find Nico's psychotic grandmother, or any of the hundreds of other things she could obsess over in a given day.

Instead, she was taking an elevator to an exclusive rooftop restaurant and had spent a good half of her day going from shop to shop and picking up boxes of delicious (she had checked each time) baked goods. The other half had been on the phone with contacts, and going through files while on the subway between the destinations.

Looking up as the elevator doors dinged and slid open, Wade caught sight of Marie-Ange and grinned. "Hey," he said, walking forward and stretching his hand out to her. "I see you managed to decipher my deliciously silly clues." He waggled his eyebrows, then held up his other hand and offered her the blue lotus he'd found in a florist's shop on the way up.

"It is funny, you say delicious and silly, but it sounds just like cunning. How did you do that?" Marie-Ange teased as she took the flower. "I put most of the treats in the office, and some in Amanda's refrigerator. If I ate that much I would explode like one of those giant balloon floats in the Macy's parade. I liked the cake pops, those are fun."

"You're obviously just very adept at picking up on the deeper meanings of my words - and I have many, varied talents," Wade said, still grinning. "Awesome - those little cake pop things were tasty. I wouldn't mind trying out a few of the cheesecake bites, if you sent some of them back to Amanda's refrigerator." He tipped his head toward where the head waiter was waiting and asked, "I didn't fill you up on sweets and ruin your appetite, did I?"

"Those are in Amanda's refrigerator, yes. I may have kept the best parts somewhere that if Jubilee finds them I can at least be sure she will be hexed." Marie-Ange took her phone out of her purse, and tapped out a quick email to let everyone know she was taking the rest of the day off. "I did give the peanut butter fudge to Doug though, I actually cannot read Farsi, so I had to have him translate the note." Given that the fudge was peanut butter, she had her suspicions that Wade might've planned it that way. "I think he was having an especially good day. He said something about a game with lightsabers."

Wade grinned, following the waiter to the table he'd reserved. "Lightsabers, huh? If that's what makes him happy." He shook his head and pulled the chair out for Marie-Ange, waited for her to sit, then moved around the table and took his own seat.

Marie-Ange waited until she was seated, before leaning close to Wade and whispering "I meant to ask, how in the world did you get reservations for Per Se?" She was mildly boggled. She could have perhaps managed it, but it would have taken effort and time she did not have on her hands, and it would've been for something very special. "and yes, lightsabers. I am surprised he has not tried to recruit you, Obi-Wade." She smiled mischievously. "or that he has not tried to convince you to play the Lego game with the Star Wars people in it."

Grinning, Wade shrugged. "I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you. And that would pretty much ruin dinner." He fiddled with the menu for a moment, briefly looking it over as their waiter filled their water glasses. "I'm not really any good at computer games and stuff like that. Which is probably why Doug's not tried to recruit me." Still smiling, he leaned forward a bit and murmured, "I'm glad you like the restaurant. From here, we can do a couple things, but I'm not telling you about them until after you've thoroughly enjoyed whatever you'd like from the menu."

"Yes, I think that Thomas Keller has enough fame for his food and does not need the fame of having someone killed in his restaurant. Also if you killed me I would have to dump you, and that would be sad." Marie-Ange answered, impishly. "Are the other things timed? Because I am not sure I can decide." Even the salon menu at Per Se was astounding, and the prix fixe menu seemed like it would take quite some time to finish.

"It would be sad - I'd have to pine for you," Wade said, grinning. "And no, nothing's timed. The evening is ours. We can do whatever we like with it after dinner." He settled back to look over the menu himself, pleased with Marie-Ange's reaction.

"No, you would be miserable because I would haunt you." Marie-Ange had meant to try to sound like she was giving a dire threat, but it came out too amused to be anything less than playful. "I think if I am going to get to eat at Per Se, I want to get the tasting menu. If that is okay?" It was just that even if she knew that Wade had a ludicrous amount of money and no problems spending it to make people happy, she still stopped and paused at the idea of a several hundred dollar meal on a whim. "Besides, surprises are fun, no?"

"Sounds perfect," Wade said, closing his menu and nodding. "And, if you're going to haunt me, I need to know - are you going to be like the ghost with the chains and the fake powder coming off his hands in the Scrooge movie? I feel like I should have some negotiating power here."

Marie-Ange raised an eyebrow at the mention of chains. "Wade, if you want to have that sort of sex, you should just say." She flushed slightly being that bold, but it was Wade. She could say those kinds of things. "Actually, I imagine my imaging would be..." She went quiet, distracted for a moment. "Though I suppose it would take concentration to keep imaged handcuffs around, and I might be very distracted."

Wade had had a witty rejoinder prepared for pretty much any other response he might have received from Marie-Ange... but not that one. His mouth hung just slightly ajar for a second before he let out a quietly surprised laugh. "If that's how we were going to do it, yeah. You'd be really distracted, ladyfriend. I mean, the whole point would be to keep you from concentrating on anything else, so."

"And then there would be no more handcuffs, and I am not borrowing real ones." Marie-Ange said lightly. "Too much concentration is needed to make them and keep them around." Which was a shame, because it would've been so very useful, especially outside the bedroom. Her blush went a little pinker, and Marie-Ange looked away. "I am trying to be less... well perhaps I should say I am trying to be more playful rather than less uptight, yes?"

"This is, I think, the first time I've even idly wished I was more into 'subdue and disarm' than just 'kill,'" Wade said, tone almost musing. He reached over and tapped one of Marie-Ange's knuckles with a fingertip to get her to look back toward him. "I've never really thought you acted uptight, anyway. I mean, you've still got Percy perched on your dresser." He grinned.

"Subdue and disarm has it's purposes." Was this really a conversation for a fancy restaurant, no, but Marie-Ange wasn't sure she much cared. "You missed my uptight period. It was not like Picasso's blue period, it was boring. I refused to talk about sex and I am not sure I laughed very much." Amazing how much six months away from her people did to change her attitude about so many things.

Grinning, Wade nodded his agreement with her first statement, then shrugged a little. "Everybody changes - it's what makes things interesting. I'm just glad you laugh more now - and don't mind putting up with my random requests for sketches at three in the morning."

"I was already awake, why would I have minded?" Marie-Ange asked, with a laugh. "If I had been asleep, I might have taught you new swearwords in French. Which would have been educational." Half her repertoire of swearwords in her native language were not even native French, but the Cajun French ones that she'd picked up from Remy, and from spending time in New Orleans.

"You'd be surprised what people mind at three in the morning," Wade said, his tone one which implied extensive experience with the many varied things people minded at that time of night. "But I know how to curse in more languages than is probably decent." He considered that for a moment, still half-smiling. "Most of the time it's the only thing I can do in other languages."

"You should also learn to ask for the bathroom. Bathrooms are useful for more than just lavatory purposes." Like escapes, or private places to text message people, or a good way to hide whatever thing you had just stolen, or a way to divert a tail from following you. "I am sure that Doug would teach you. He used to write "Where is the bathroom?" and "fuck your mother." on index cards in any languages he thought were funny at the time so he could teach people," Marie-Ange explained.

Wade grinned. "And he never worried people would get the two confused in a real life situation? I'm pretty sure a broken nose isn't going to do you much good if all you wanted was to go to the bathroom."

"He kept the english translations on the cards too." Marie-Ange explained. "Most of the time." She laughed again, and then shook her head. "Are you certain you are as old as you say? Because you should know my father is fifty-three." Her grin was impish and definitely teasing. "And I am quite sure he does not use swear words or eat tacos. Well, I am not certain about the swear words, but I do not think he even knows what a taco is."

Chuckling, Wade shrugged. "Gotta keep up with the times or they'll leave you behind. Which would be inconvenient given my career path. And I learned about tacos in Mexico many many years ago. Which is also where I learned by the FX-05 Xiuhcoatl. But that wasn't until 2005. Which was way after the taco thing."

"Xiuhcoatl..." Marie-Ange's expression went distant for a moment and she opened her mouth to say something that started with a sibilant noise, and was interuppted by the approach of a waiter bringing another course of their dinner. Whatever she was going to say was forgotten and her attention came back to the present as she blinked a few times. "Is that why you are so obsessed with Mexican food? Even the somewhat inauthentic kind?"

Wade waited until the waiter was gone before quirking an eyebrow - that far-away look Marie-Ange had gotten made him want to ask questions of his own, but he didn't suppose this was quite the right time. "I've had, as you so kindly dubbed it, an obsession with Mexican food since 1989 when an abuelita beat me over the head with a broom because she thought I was stealing her husband's sombrero. When she realized I was really just trying to hide from the cartel I'd pissed off, she fed me the most amazing burritos and let me have a secondary sombrero or something. And a cactus. And a poncho type... thing. That felt like I was wearing a rug."

The cognitive dissonance of her boyfriend who did not look a day over thirty at worst talking about nineteen eighty nine as though it was only a few months ago never failed to make Marie-Ange stop and blink for a few moments. She generally tried to not think about it, and justified the age different with the fact that Wade neither looked nor acted fifty-something. "The poncho may have just been a poncho, but it would depend on where you were in Mexico." She smiled, and shook her head. "And a cactus? Really? She gave you a cactus." She suspected Wade may have been teasing. Or had asked for the cactus, because he was odd like that sometimes.

"She gave me a cactus," Wade said, grinning. "It was pretty awesome. I've probably got the poncho somewhere." He paused to think for a moment. "Might actually be using it as a rug."

"How do you do that? You walk into someone's home and simply charm them immediately. How is that even possible?" Marie-Ange teased. "What happened to the cactus?"

"I named her Henrietta and she's currently sitting on a terrace in an arid area only being watered by Mother Nature when she sees fit to let loose a deluge," Wade answered, eyes crinkling at the corners. "She's about this tall now." Holding his hand out at about the same height as his shoulder when seated, the mercenary waggled his eyebrows. "And it's a talent. The eyes are key. Make them really big and use very small words but emphasize the people with guns who are stalking through the streets looking for you."

"So you look young and dumb and very very scared. That would make sense." It would possibly even work on her, if she wasn't feeling very very cynical that day. "It would probably work on me." Marie-Ange suggested, smiling impishly. "It would work better if you were in your underwear."

"That, my particular ladyfriend, can most certainly be arranged," Wade said, eyes crinkling at the corners in a smile as he reached across the table to take Marie-Ange's hand. Then, unable to suppress the urge, he waggled his eyebrows and asked, "You don't want me to drop trou here, do you? I was pretty sure you weren't much into voyeurism, but I'm open to the possibility I was wrong..."

"And never be able to eat here again?" Marie-Ange asked. "My goodness no .You can remove your pants on the subway. I know they do not mind such a thing, there are prank groups that do it every year." She'd been tempted to participate, but had very good reasons not to as well.

Wade's smile broadened and he laughed. "Every year, huh? I'll bet they do it just to keep the subway people on their toes. How about we take the car I drove back to the Brownstone and we can figure out the logistics of me taking my pants off in front of other people tomorrow?"

Marie-Ange raised an eyebrow. "We could do that tonight, if you can define me as 'other people' temporarily. I am people other than you, after all."

"Well okay then," Wade said, still grinning. "I think we've got our evening planned. And just in time, too - looks like our first course is on the way out from the kitchen."