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xp_logsWade and North fly in. No one should ever let these two travel together again.
"We will be landing in approximately twenty minutes, if you would please return your seats and trays to the upright and locked position." The flight attendant's announcement came shortly before a pair of attendants came through first class, collecting the last of the dinner plates and wine glasses from the travelers. One paused at the pair of well-dressed businessmen, and gestured with a nod of her head towards the one who was sleeping, a magazine over his face. "Sir, I hate to ask, but if you could wake your traveling companion, I would most appreciate it. We need to collect his tray and glass."
Wade's smile was all charm as he nodded. "Sure, no problem," he said, waiting until the flight attendant had turned away before elbowing North in the side and muttering, "The guy's gone up to the front, you can stop hiding. I don't think he'll be hinting about inducting your distinguished self into the mile high club in the next twenty minutes, but you'll need to make sure he doesn't make a grab for your ass when we deboard."
David snorted, but tugged the magazine from his face, eyes darting to the aisle just to make sure it was all clear. “Quiet, you infernal thing,” the German man sniped, dutifully stowing his table away and shuffling into an upright position. There were times when he really did not understand how people’s minds worked. And it hardly helped that his current persona was supposed to have some modicum of social grace. “You’re supposed to be the pretty one, no?”
Grinning, Wade shrugged. "No accounting for taste. Maybe he has a daddy fetish. It's probably the beard, man. It's pretty impressive. I'll bet he didn't even see me. I still can't believe you made me switch seats with you, though." The mercenary kept up the light banter, keeping his voice low so as to avoid attracting the attention of any of the other passengers in first class.
“No,” the younger man mused, turning his deadpanned gaze to look out the window for a glimpse of their destination. “He probably thought the puerile assistant who fumbled hopelessly with his languages was Not Cute. I think that’s a money fetish.”
Propping his chin up on his palm, elbow resting on the arm rest, David curled a corner of his lips upwards to enjoy a moment of the double irony with the other ex-Weapon-X operative. “Besides, you can’t really complain. You like aisle seats better.” So did he and – David suspected – a good portion of his colleagues.
"It's true," Wade said, grinning. He let the conversation taper off there, though, as the other passengers shuffled around, folding blankets and shifting those delightful little pillows around in front of them. He left the buckle of his seat belt undone, the position of his hand hiding the fact that it wasn't actually hooked because really - it was bad enough he hadn't been able to take any knives with him through security. He wasn't going to be any less mobile than he had to be.
The landing went smoothly and they experienced no more than cursory turbulence before jolting against the tarmac. Twenty minutes later and they'd made it through customs, neither of them declaring anything, and picked up their luggage from baggage claim before hailing a taxi. They made it to the hotel in good time, checked into their respective rooms, and stowed their essentially useless clothing. Then Wade headed for North's door and knocked. They had planning to do.
David heaved himself up from the floor where he had been checking beneath the bed, crossing the executive room to let Wade in. He held a finger to his lips in the universal gesture for silence, indicating that he was not quite done sweeping the room (which was unsurprising given its unnecessary size). “I think we’re going to have to work on your language abilities,” he said conversationally, a smirk half-hiding behind his beard as he locked the door and returned to his task. “Watching you fumble your attempt to flirt with the customs officer was painful. Though, I suppose, sufficiently entertaining.” Here, David grinned, fingers running along the edges of the mattress. “And people wonder why I keep you around.”
"You're senile," Wade replied, bracing his back against the door while North finished his sweep. He didn't see any reason to mess with the other man's methods - besides, covering the same ground a second time over would be a waste of his time. "It's your old age. Next thing you know, you'll be hobbling along with a walker, six different kinds of geriatric." Unbuttoning the cuffs of his collared shirt, the mercenary rolled them up and took his wrist sheathes from the small of his back where he'd tucked them after he'd taken them from his suitcase. He didn't have any knives for them yet, but he felt fidgety without them. "Or maybe it's because I am the pretty one. Besides, the customs woman slipped me her number, so I obviously made myself understood well enough."
“Oh, you mean when I reach her age?” David nodded understandingly, flipping the mattress back down and gesturing for Wade to take a seat at the couch where his laptop was waiting on the coffee table. Thankfully, as a representative of a European mining company, he was allowed his work things. And a bottle of prescription pills. “Yes, yes. I suppose can say ‘I told you so’ when you have your hands full with the both of us, doll. But let me just say – I would very much prefer a wheelchair than a walker.”
"She wasn't that old," Wade said, opening North's laptop and turning it on. "Old enough to have fun with, if I really felt like it." But his girlfriend could form knives and swords out of ectoplasm and they could actually do some damaged before they turned into goo, so aside from the fact that he wasn't actually interested in the customs woman, he wouldn't have gone there, anyway. "Work, work, work - all work and no play makes Davey a dull boy, my friend."
“Sure, ‘Wadey’, we can go find a bowling alley before our scheduled meeting if you like,” came the snarky response as David poured himself a glass of water to down a headache pill with, somewhat satisfied that the room had not been bugged. He had not checked the phone, but sometimes unplugging it and tossing it into the bathroom was so much easier. Dropping himself on the couch, the precog crossed his legs ankle to knee and watched as Wade brought up the email account made specifically for the mission, downloading an attached map from a blank email. “Oh, look. The boss’ secretary sent directions.”
"How considerate," Wade said, eyes narrowed as he looked over the schematics and instructions. Search and rescue wasn't really his deal - he was much more a stalk and kill 'em kinda guy - but these were his kids from the mansion. He had a feeling he'd be doing a good deal of killing, anyway, if things didn't go according to plan. And something Marie-Ange had said kept niggling at the back of his mind, but Wade knew he couldn't let himself be distracted. "So, bowling before our meeting. Good plan. You sure you're not gonna throw your back out or something, old man? I'd hate to have to explain to the higher ups why you're not there and your crumby assistant's attempting to give the presentation with his atrocious accent."
“Don’t tempt me,” David warned, already memorising the target locations where they were supposed to be gathering intel. He pointed out the nearest highlighted location to Wade and frowned. There was a certain unease associated with going into a place blind. But he had no contacts in Genosha and there were limited alternatives to coming in and getting the necessary information himself, none of them particularly preferable. “We’ll probably have to walk around a bit before we find one, though.”
"You mean a bowling alley?" Wade's voice was still light, teasing, but his expression was serious as he noted the points David was indicating. "I'm sure if we ask at the desk downstairs, they'll be able to tell us where the nearest one is." He pulled a pair of burner phones out of his pocket and handed one over, showing North that his number was already programmed in. "Actually, I think one of my friends from university is here working for a law firm or something. I could always check with him, see if he feels like giving us a tour of the area." He pointed at the other number in the phone he'd kept. He had at least one contact on the island, though it was old and he was none too sure of its reliability. Weasel hadn't been able to get him much intel on such short notice, but he was pretty sure they wouldn't be going in completely blind. "He might be able to recommend some restaurants, too."
“See,” David commented, face impassive as he slipped the phone into his suit jacket with a nod of thanks. “This is why I keep you around.” It was as good a starting point as any. He just hoped that they would be able to pick up some information on the missing children. Enough, at least, for their safe retrieval. For some unknown reason, the spy could not shake off the vague feeling of dread that had made itself comfortable in his chest. Still, he merely offered his companion a faint smile and gestured at the door. “Ready when you are.”
"We will be landing in approximately twenty minutes, if you would please return your seats and trays to the upright and locked position." The flight attendant's announcement came shortly before a pair of attendants came through first class, collecting the last of the dinner plates and wine glasses from the travelers. One paused at the pair of well-dressed businessmen, and gestured with a nod of her head towards the one who was sleeping, a magazine over his face. "Sir, I hate to ask, but if you could wake your traveling companion, I would most appreciate it. We need to collect his tray and glass."
Wade's smile was all charm as he nodded. "Sure, no problem," he said, waiting until the flight attendant had turned away before elbowing North in the side and muttering, "The guy's gone up to the front, you can stop hiding. I don't think he'll be hinting about inducting your distinguished self into the mile high club in the next twenty minutes, but you'll need to make sure he doesn't make a grab for your ass when we deboard."
David snorted, but tugged the magazine from his face, eyes darting to the aisle just to make sure it was all clear. “Quiet, you infernal thing,” the German man sniped, dutifully stowing his table away and shuffling into an upright position. There were times when he really did not understand how people’s minds worked. And it hardly helped that his current persona was supposed to have some modicum of social grace. “You’re supposed to be the pretty one, no?”
Grinning, Wade shrugged. "No accounting for taste. Maybe he has a daddy fetish. It's probably the beard, man. It's pretty impressive. I'll bet he didn't even see me. I still can't believe you made me switch seats with you, though." The mercenary kept up the light banter, keeping his voice low so as to avoid attracting the attention of any of the other passengers in first class.
“No,” the younger man mused, turning his deadpanned gaze to look out the window for a glimpse of their destination. “He probably thought the puerile assistant who fumbled hopelessly with his languages was Not Cute. I think that’s a money fetish.”
Propping his chin up on his palm, elbow resting on the arm rest, David curled a corner of his lips upwards to enjoy a moment of the double irony with the other ex-Weapon-X operative. “Besides, you can’t really complain. You like aisle seats better.” So did he and – David suspected – a good portion of his colleagues.
"It's true," Wade said, grinning. He let the conversation taper off there, though, as the other passengers shuffled around, folding blankets and shifting those delightful little pillows around in front of them. He left the buckle of his seat belt undone, the position of his hand hiding the fact that it wasn't actually hooked because really - it was bad enough he hadn't been able to take any knives with him through security. He wasn't going to be any less mobile than he had to be.
The landing went smoothly and they experienced no more than cursory turbulence before jolting against the tarmac. Twenty minutes later and they'd made it through customs, neither of them declaring anything, and picked up their luggage from baggage claim before hailing a taxi. They made it to the hotel in good time, checked into their respective rooms, and stowed their essentially useless clothing. Then Wade headed for North's door and knocked. They had planning to do.
David heaved himself up from the floor where he had been checking beneath the bed, crossing the executive room to let Wade in. He held a finger to his lips in the universal gesture for silence, indicating that he was not quite done sweeping the room (which was unsurprising given its unnecessary size). “I think we’re going to have to work on your language abilities,” he said conversationally, a smirk half-hiding behind his beard as he locked the door and returned to his task. “Watching you fumble your attempt to flirt with the customs officer was painful. Though, I suppose, sufficiently entertaining.” Here, David grinned, fingers running along the edges of the mattress. “And people wonder why I keep you around.”
"You're senile," Wade replied, bracing his back against the door while North finished his sweep. He didn't see any reason to mess with the other man's methods - besides, covering the same ground a second time over would be a waste of his time. "It's your old age. Next thing you know, you'll be hobbling along with a walker, six different kinds of geriatric." Unbuttoning the cuffs of his collared shirt, the mercenary rolled them up and took his wrist sheathes from the small of his back where he'd tucked them after he'd taken them from his suitcase. He didn't have any knives for them yet, but he felt fidgety without them. "Or maybe it's because I am the pretty one. Besides, the customs woman slipped me her number, so I obviously made myself understood well enough."
“Oh, you mean when I reach her age?” David nodded understandingly, flipping the mattress back down and gesturing for Wade to take a seat at the couch where his laptop was waiting on the coffee table. Thankfully, as a representative of a European mining company, he was allowed his work things. And a bottle of prescription pills. “Yes, yes. I suppose can say ‘I told you so’ when you have your hands full with the both of us, doll. But let me just say – I would very much prefer a wheelchair than a walker.”
"She wasn't that old," Wade said, opening North's laptop and turning it on. "Old enough to have fun with, if I really felt like it." But his girlfriend could form knives and swords out of ectoplasm and they could actually do some damaged before they turned into goo, so aside from the fact that he wasn't actually interested in the customs woman, he wouldn't have gone there, anyway. "Work, work, work - all work and no play makes Davey a dull boy, my friend."
“Sure, ‘Wadey’, we can go find a bowling alley before our scheduled meeting if you like,” came the snarky response as David poured himself a glass of water to down a headache pill with, somewhat satisfied that the room had not been bugged. He had not checked the phone, but sometimes unplugging it and tossing it into the bathroom was so much easier. Dropping himself on the couch, the precog crossed his legs ankle to knee and watched as Wade brought up the email account made specifically for the mission, downloading an attached map from a blank email. “Oh, look. The boss’ secretary sent directions.”
"How considerate," Wade said, eyes narrowed as he looked over the schematics and instructions. Search and rescue wasn't really his deal - he was much more a stalk and kill 'em kinda guy - but these were his kids from the mansion. He had a feeling he'd be doing a good deal of killing, anyway, if things didn't go according to plan. And something Marie-Ange had said kept niggling at the back of his mind, but Wade knew he couldn't let himself be distracted. "So, bowling before our meeting. Good plan. You sure you're not gonna throw your back out or something, old man? I'd hate to have to explain to the higher ups why you're not there and your crumby assistant's attempting to give the presentation with his atrocious accent."
“Don’t tempt me,” David warned, already memorising the target locations where they were supposed to be gathering intel. He pointed out the nearest highlighted location to Wade and frowned. There was a certain unease associated with going into a place blind. But he had no contacts in Genosha and there were limited alternatives to coming in and getting the necessary information himself, none of them particularly preferable. “We’ll probably have to walk around a bit before we find one, though.”
"You mean a bowling alley?" Wade's voice was still light, teasing, but his expression was serious as he noted the points David was indicating. "I'm sure if we ask at the desk downstairs, they'll be able to tell us where the nearest one is." He pulled a pair of burner phones out of his pocket and handed one over, showing North that his number was already programmed in. "Actually, I think one of my friends from university is here working for a law firm or something. I could always check with him, see if he feels like giving us a tour of the area." He pointed at the other number in the phone he'd kept. He had at least one contact on the island, though it was old and he was none too sure of its reliability. Weasel hadn't been able to get him much intel on such short notice, but he was pretty sure they wouldn't be going in completely blind. "He might be able to recommend some restaurants, too."
“See,” David commented, face impassive as he slipped the phone into his suit jacket with a nod of thanks. “This is why I keep you around.” It was as good a starting point as any. He just hoped that they would be able to pick up some information on the missing children. Enough, at least, for their safe retrieval. For some unknown reason, the spy could not shake off the vague feeling of dread that had made itself comfortable in his chest. Still, he merely offered his companion a faint smile and gestured at the door. “Ready when you are.”
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