Okay, it's Deadpool, so there's gonna be language. This is my first real Deadpool attempt, so be kind.

"He's late, huh?"

"Yeah," you sighed, "he has a lot going on right now, so I guess I can't get too mad."  You glanced down at your watch again for what felt like the hundredth time, but the hands had moved only millimeters since your last time check. 

"You want me to wait with you?"

"Nah, Cap, I'm good. Thanks anyway."  As you watched your teammate walk away you considered if you should just give up and go to your room for the night, or maybe take your frustrations out on the punching bag, but you ultimately decided that Parker would be the recipient of your rage if he didn't show up for your date within the next five minutes.  He was the one who asked you out, so common courtesy would at least mean to be on time.

"Sir, you can't go in there."

You heard a whistling coming from the lobby of the tower that caught your interest, knowing that if it were Peter showing up, the guards would have just announced his arrival.  Quickly making your way out there, you stopped at the sight of a man in a red suit, but it wasn't the red suit that you had been expecting.  When he saw you in return, his hands immediately went to his face in surprise.

"Holy mother of...goddammit you're hot!  Webby said you were pretty, but fuck me, I had no idea!"

"Thank you?" you smirked, feeling a slight blush on your cheeks from both the attention and the man's vulgar choice of phrasing.  "And who are you, exactly?"

"My lady," he said, extending his arm out so that you could loop yours through.  "Pool, Dead.  Pleasure, mine."  He stood waiting for your hand, but you didn't take him up on the offer right away; you held your place and stared at him with your confusion still apparent in your expression.  "I'm here to pick you up for your date.  Sorry, I probably should lead with that, huh?"

"It would certainly help, yeah.  So...you're taking me where, exactly?"  You finally decided to put your arm in his and gave the guards a small wave to allow you to go as he led you out and onto the busy city street.

"Mr. Parker has requested the honor of your presence...ah, shit, can't do it," he huffed, "Slinger got stuck on a job and is running late, as you might have noticed."

You laughed out loud and slapped his arm, making him jump just slightly, "he got stuck on a job? Really?  Spiderman got stuck?"

Wade stopped in his tracks and leaned his head back letting out a loud but sarcastic laugh and shaking his head.  After only a few seconds he silenced and looked at you, pointing his finger almost harshly.  "Listen, I don't care how hot you are, or how fucking amazing your ass looks in those jeans...which is beyond what is acceptable for hot to be, by the way."  He pulled his arm away and turned to hold his hands out towards your backside, "I mean, have you seen your ass?!  Bam, baby!" When you didn't reply he turned and looked at the man in the cab next to him for assistance.  "Am I right?"

"Yes, Mr. Pool, she definitely has a very admirable posterior."

"Thank you, Dopinder! You've always got my back."  He glanced at you and then brought his hand to his chin, rubbing it uncertainly, "what was I talking about...?"

"Your posterior is quite admirable as well, if I might say," the driver added.  "Shall I take your pair of admirable asses to the restaurant now?"

Wade opened the back door of the cab and jumped in, leaving you standing on the sidewalk with your arms crossed and an amused look on your face.  A few seconds later his head popped out from the door, and if you could see his face beyond the mask, you thought that maybe he was embarrassed at his error.  "You getting in, sweet cheeks, or are you waiting for an invitation?"

Or maybe he wasn't embarrassed at all.

~~~

When you arrived at the restaurant, he followed the same pattern, jumping out of the cab and heading in without so much as an opened door for you.  Not that you were insistent on chivalry by any means, but you found it humorous that he saw no need for it whatsoever.

Once you were inside it became clear why he hurried in before you, seeing him lying suggestively across a bench, braced up on his elbow with a flower in one hand and a children's menu and crayons in the other.  He reached his hand up slowly and held out the crayons and paper, waiting patiently until you took them from him.  "Draw me like one of your French girls, Jack," he cooed. 

"You're ridiculous, and I'm hungry.  Maybe later, if you can behave," you smirked with a quick wink, turning to walk to your table and leaving him to chase after you for a change.

"Can I have my menu back, though?" Wade whispered as he followed, reaching around you and grabbing for it like a child trying to snatch a prized possession.  "I was promised to be fed for this."

The waiter appeared almost immediately as you were seated, and even though you were beginning to be entertained by your new companion, you watched the door anxiously, awaiting Peter's arrival.  If you hadn't been drawn in by Wade's interaction with the server, you might have missed your chance to get a drink to calm yourself.

"I would like...an order of...hmm," he paused, resting his finger thoughtfully over his covered lips, "okay, how about an order of this dairy filled orgasm, lightly coated in the perfect combination of bread crumbs and just a hint of Italian seasonings, fried to a heavenly golden brown, with just the right amount of crunch on the outside, yet a satisfying and almost comforting softness on the inside.  Much like my new lady friend here."

"So, mozzarella sticks?"

"Isn't that what I said?"

The server shook his head and gave you a polite smile.  "I know, he takes some getting used to," you smiled back.  "I just need a glass of anything white and bubbly, please."

"You're not getting any of my sticks," you heard Deadpool mumble in a sing-song voice under his breath as he began to color the inside of his menu.  When the server left you grabbed the menu and pulled it away from him with a quick motion, the crayon in his hand leaving a long stripe of blue across the paper and onto the table top.  "Excuse me!  What the shit was that?  I was almost done with Captain Asshat's shield!"

"What?" You flipped the menu over and saw that he had ignored the pre-printed picture of a generic cowboy riding a horse and changed it to Steve riding a very colorful unicorn. Your mind began to race with all of the things you could do with something like this, and you simply had to have it.  "Oh, damn.  Okay, this is actually amazing.  I'm gonna need you to finish this so I can take it with me."

"You like it?!  Okay, so I was going to put him up here..." he excitedly pointed to the twisted horn of the animal, "do you think I should get a new one and start over?  I mean, if anyone can take a horn up the ass, it would be Cap, right?  Or do you think I should do Iron Man?  Not like do Iron Man...although that would be the balls..."  He leaned back in his chair and looked up as if deeply in thought now, and his voice dropped to almost a whisper.  "Do you think he's ever done Potts with the suit on?"

"Where's my drink?" you groaned and searched around the room.  "Better yet, where's my date?"

"I might have a confession."

Your head snapped to look at him, knowing what was about to be said before he had to utter the first syllable.  "Shut up," you gasped.  Wade responded by sitting motionless and silent, even when his plate full of mozzarella sticks were laid in front of him.  You heard a tiny squeal from him, and his hand began to tremble, pretending that he wasn't able to move to get his food until you released him.

"You want 'em?" you huffed, pulling the plate towards you and out of his reach, "then tell me what's going on."  Between frustration and hunger, his words frantically began to spill out.

"Parker isn't coming. He got stuck...that's right, I said stuck... on a job and was gonna cancel but I'm a motherfucking stalker and I've wanted to go out with you for so long that I took his phone so that he couldn't call you and then I showed up instead and brought you here and now I'm so goddamn hungry that you're beginning to look like one of these sticks and if you don't let me get my hands on one of them I'm gonna dip your magical hot ass in marinara and fucking feast, you got me?"

With wide eyes you slowly pushed the plate back and took your entire glass of wine down in one long swallow.  Seeing the glass sit empty, the server returned to give you a refill, but you put your hand over the top so that he couldn't pour.  You glanced at Deadpool, seeing that he had made short work of his food and was already nearly finished.  Maybe it was the wine working far too quickly, or maybe it was a sudden sense of bravery, but you were going to call his bluff.

"Could you send us a large side of marinara and the check please?"