You and Wade were seated in the back of a cab, the dim glow of streetlights flickering through the windows as the city passed by in a blur. The soft, rhythmic hum of Indian music filled the air, creating a stark contrast to the intensity of the mission ahead. Wade, never one to sit still for long, was already growing restless. He shifted in his seat, glancing around before his eyes locked onto the small window that separated the backseat from the driver.
"Kinda lonely back here..." Wade muttered, an idea clearly forming in his head. Before you could even respond, he began wriggling through the window, his body contorting in awkward, almost comical movements as he tried to force himself through the tight space. You leaned back against the seat, arms crossed, watching with an amused yet uninterested expression. Helping him never crossed your mind—you knew this was the kind of ridiculousness Wade lived for.
After what felt like an eternity of struggling, grunts, and muffled curses, Wade finally tumbled through the window, landing in the front seat with an ungraceful thud. He sat up, adjusting his mask, then turned to the driver with an exuberant smile, acting as though the past two minutes of chaos hadn't just happened.
"Hi!" he greeted, his tone unnaturally cheerful.
The cab driver, a young Indian man with soft features and a warm, innocent face, glanced at Wade through the rearview mirror. He didn't seem phased by the bizarre introduction, instead responding in a polite, almost rehearsed manner. "Hello, my name is Dopinder."Wade, ever the eccentric, grabbed the man's hand and gave it an exaggerated shake. "Pool... Dead," he said with a dramatic flair, as if he were announcing himself to a crowd of adoring fans.Amused by the exchange, you leaned forward, poking your head through the window. "My name is Y/n—" you started, intending to introduce yourself, but Wade cut you off mid-sentence with his usual lack of subtlety.
"No one cares!" he declared, throwing a playful glance at you through the rearview mirror before shooting you a wink.
You rolled your eyes, half-annoyed, half-amused, but said nothing. Typical Wade. Always hogging the spotlight and never missing an opportunity to make things about him. The cab rolled on through the night, the music still playing softly in the background, and you couldn't help but smirk at the absurdity of it all.
Deadpool leaned forward, squinting at a small, framed picture of a woman on Dopinder's dashboard. His voice was unusually thoughtful as he asked, "Nice... What's her name?"Dopinder's face softened, his eyes flickering with a mix of pride and sadness. "Gita. She would have made me a very agreeable wife... but, her heart was stolen by my cousin Bantu. He is as dishonorable as he is attractive."
Deadpool's eyes widened dramatically as if Dopinder had just unlocked the mysteries of the universe. "I'm beginning to think I'm in this cab for a reason," he declared, his voice almost reverent.
Dopinder looked back at him, a little confused. "Yes, you called for it, sir."Deadpool shook his head vigorously, waving his hand. "No! I'm in this cab because the universe wants me to tell you something... Love." He drew out the word, as though it held the weight of galaxies. "Love is a beautiful thing... It makes the worst days better, makes the whole world smell like daffodil daydream. And you gotta hold onto love, Dopinder. Because if you lose it, the world will taste like... Mama June after hot yoga."
You raised an eyebrow at the sudden direction of the conversation but didn't interject—yet. It was always interesting to watch Wade navigate through his chaotic thought processes.
Dopinder's face crinkled in confusion as he innocently asked, "And what does Mama June taste like?"Without missing a beat, Deadpool responded, "Like two hobos fucking in a shoebox full of piss."You couldn't help but snort before adding your own twist to the madness. "Or Donald Trump and Justin Bieber making out."
Wade glanced at you, nodding approvingly as though you had just contributed to some grand philosophical discourse. "Exactly! The point is, it's bad. Very bad." He turned back to Dopinder, his voice softening again. "Don't make the mistakes I made. Hold onto love, man."
For a brief moment, there was an odd, almost tender silence in the cab, as if Deadpool's words actually carried some profound weight. Then, true to his nature, Wade looked out the window, his focus shifting back to the passing cars, as though the whole conversation was just another fleeting thought in his chaotic mind. The soft Indian music continued to play in the background, the cab's hum carrying you all through the quiet streets, and you watched Wade with a mix of amusement and mild disbelief.
Dopinder glanced back at Deadpool in the rearview mirror, curiosity etched on his face. "Why the red suit, Mr. Pool?" he asked, trying to make sense of the eccentric mercenary's choice of attire.
Wade's eyes gleamed with mischief as he leaned in closer, his tone dropping into a mock-conspiratorial whisper. "Well, my brown-colored friend, it's Christmas Day, and we're going after someone on our naughty list..." There was a deadly undertone in his voice that shifted the mood for a second, a clear reference to Francis. It wasn't Christmas, but Wade always had a knack for dramatics.
You couldn't help but smirk at the theatrics, knowing full well this mission had nothing to do with holiday cheer. Suddenly, with a flourish, Deadpool pulled out his pistols and checked the chambers, looking at them with a casual nonchalance. "Shit!" he muttered, his voice laced with mild annoyance. "I forgot my ammo bag at home... No biggie. Got about 12 shots. Should be fun." He grinned, loading the pistols with a quick flick of his wrist before holstering them again, his confidence undeterred.
You leaned back in your seat, eyeing Wade with mild amusement as he casually prepared for what would undoubtedly be another night of chaos. Dopinder's eyes flicked between the two of you, clearly unsure whether to be alarmed or fascinated by the absurdity unfolding in his cab.
The atmosphere in the cab was charged now, the playful banter giving way to the quiet focus of the impending hunt. You knew Wade didn't need much ammo to get the job done—he was resourceful, after all—and the fewer bullets he had, the more creative things usually got. You just hoped the night wouldn't end with you both needing another cab ride back to clean up the mess.
The cab pulled up to your destination, a seemingly random spot along the highway. You and Wade climbed out, the familiar sound of Dopinder's cab engine fading as he drove off. The wind was calm, the sun was warm but not overbearing, casting a golden glow over the stretch of road.You both perched on the railing, legs dangling off the edge, swinging idly like a couple of kids on a playground. Wade, true to form, had pulled out a box of crayons and was intently scribbling away, the small recorder you bought him playing a soft, mellow tune. George Michael's "Careless Whisper" hummed in the background, adding a strange, almost whimsical contrast to the sharp edge of the mission ahead.
Wade, in his usual fashion, was chatting away, breaking the fourth wall like it was just another Tuesday. He spoke to his invisible audience, cracking jokes and making snarky comments, his energy oddly infectious, but you weren't really tuned in. You let him carry on, knowing it was just part of his process. His voice faded into the background as you stared out over the city.
It was bright today. The sky stretched endlessly, clear and blue, while the sun cast long shadows over the towering buildings. The warmth from the sunlight seeped into your skin, a small comfort amidst the chaos of your thoughts. There was something peaceful about it, sitting there in the quiet space between missions, even though the hunt for Francis was always at the back of your mind.
Wade's crayon sketching stopped for a moment as he looked over at you, probably sensing your distance, but he didn't say anything. He just nodded to the beat of the music, letting you have your moment of peace before the storm. The city might have been bright and bustling, but for now, you let yourself get lost in its glow, knowing that soon, you'd be back in the darkness, chasing down your target.
(a/n please please please comment if you have anything to say, and ⭐, i really need this or else my ADHD brain is gonna give up on his book. love you!!! see ya later *blows kiss*)