fandomtownies | Our Lady of Fandom, Sunday Insanely late night

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Our Lady of Fandom, Sunday Insanely late night

Deadpool stumbled into the church, squinting as he looked around for his nun. The mask was half off because that made the drinking hard to do when you had to lift a mask every time you wanted a sip. Or chug in his case.

He held a half drunk six pack in one hand, dragging it along the pews as he walked up the aisle toward the alter.

"Rosettte!" He whispered, in that special drunk-whisper that was practically a shout. "Where's my favoritest nun ever?"

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Chrono, who had particularly sensitive hearing, had alerted Rosette to the racket of beer cans clattering against the backs of pews, and she, accoustomed now to wearing boxers and a t-shirt to bed instead of her old nightshift, had padded halfway up the stairs to the basement with her gun ready when she heard her name. And blinked.

She opened the door and poked out her head, and flipped on the lightswitch on the wall. "Deadpool?"

"Heeya Rosette," Deadpool slurred, sitting down noisily on a nearby pew. "I was jus' lookin' for you."

"Well, this definately is the place," Rosette smirked wryly and settled the hammer of her gun slowly back so that it wasn't ready to blow off the face of some burglar or demon or, God, around this place, three headed mini-giraffe or something. She gave Deadpool a look before her grin widened and she remarked, "You're drunk, aren't you? I can see it in your eyes."

He popped the top on a new beer and offered it to Rosette. "Jus' a little bit," He told her, using his non-beer holding hand to pinch his fingers together unsteadily to show how drunk he was.

"Oh, well, now that's not fair," Rosette crossed her arms over her chest and tried to give Deadpool a stern look. "Wake me up from a rather lovely dream, showing up in my church drunk and then offering me a beer I can't have. Tsk."

She did arch an eyebrow at the unsteadiness, though.

Deadpool looked down at the beer and then managed to roll his head back to look Rosette in the eye again. It was a lot of effort on his part to move smoothly.

"'S just a beer. Not like it's gonna hurt anyone." He set it down and pulled a new one off the plastic rings, chucking it up at the alter for Jesus to have one too. "There, now you an the guy onna cross can drink."

Rosette facepalmed. "Ohhhkay..." Setting her gun aside, she moved over to Deadpool and lightly took him by the shoulders to lead him to sit down on one of the pews. "Trust me, that guy can make his own wine outta water; he doesn't want any of your crappy beer. Jesus, how much have you had? You're quite possibly drunker than I plan on being on Easter..."

"Got arrested yesterday 'cause Nate was being a dick," Deadpool told her, letting himself get pushed toward a pew, but leaning heavily against her. Wobbly little steps the whole way. "An' then we went out drinking."

Ooof. Deadpool was a big guy, and she was just a wee little adorable nun. Supporting him on the way wasn't easily, which was the reason for the rather ungraceful decent sitting in the pew when they got there. "Who's Nate?"

"Nathan Christopher Dayspring Askani'son Summers," Deadpool said, head lolling back to rest on the back of the pew.

(Pew was a fun word. Hey, the inner monologue still works drunk! Nice.)

"Ex- I dunno. Partner? Friend?"

"That's...quite a name," Rosette commented idly, although she certainly did approve of the Christopher part. Couldn't be too bad a guy if he shared that with her. She grinned at Deadpool a little. "So you went out drinking with an old friend but didn't invite me along to meet him? For shame."

"I shot 'im in the head," Deadpool said plainly, downing another beer. "Shot 'im in the head and he still won't leave me the hell alone."

Rosette wondered if maybe she should prevent him frown downing another one. "I'd be pretty pissed off and persistant in bothering you if you shot me in the head, too," she commented, half-chiding. "...why did you shoot him in the head?"

He blinked and flopped his head to the side in confusion.

"Which time?"

Rosette grunted as she found herself facepalming again, and then dragged her hand down over her mouth as she looked at Deadpool. "You mean you two have been through this before?"

"Then there was the time he wanted me ta shoot him in the head an' I didn't."

Rosette rubbed her head and tried really hard not to groan and failed spectacularly. Why the hell did she feel like she was playing frickin' marriage councellor to Deadpool at too-fucking-earling in the AM?

"And why didn't you shoot him? Why did he ask you? Do I really want to know and is there going to be a test on this in the morning?"

"Din'n shoot 'im 'cause I thought that maybe he could pull it off. The..." He waved his hand around in lazy circles. "Savin' the world thing. Bastard made me believe in somethin'," He said, sounding both upset and depressed over this.

Rosette drew her legs up for a moment, curling her toes around the edge of the pew before reaching down at them and casting a glance around the church. If someone actually convinced her to believe in all this God shit, too, she figured she'd be pretty upset, too, so she felt a surprising amount of sympathy for the statement and leaned her head agaisnt Deadpool a little. "...You still believe in it anymore?" she asked.

Deadpool leaned back, sighing and closing his eyes.

"'S stupid. Jus' end up fucking over your life again because someone said there was somethin' else. Gave up on that long time ago," He said, nudging his remaining beer.

Rosette dropped her legs again so she could reach over Deadpool and grab the last beer before he could do anything more than nudge it. "I think you've have enough," she said. "You're not really even making any sense. Either that, or it's too early for you to make sense. I'll break my fast and drink it myself if I have to, jus' so you don't."

Deadpool slumped over, slowly sliding down to rest his head on Rosette's lap. "Makes sense," He protested sleepily. "Hope kills you."

"Yeah, it does," Rosette mumbled in response, almost automatically, and then blinked when she realized that Deadpool's head was in her lap. Her hands hovered over it a little as if they didn't know what to do with it. "Uhh...Deadpool?"

Deadpool grunted questioningly and crack one eye open to a slit.

Rosette looked down at him quietly for a moment before, smiling softly, she shook her head. "Never mind." Her hands lightly settled on his head, with gentle little stroking motions, and she leaned back against the pew to make herself more comfortable. "But if you're gonna fall asleep, do it in a way that you'll get back up easily, okay?"

Muttering something that may have been either 'chimichanga' or 'gotcha chief', Deadpool closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

And, of course, well before she herself was able to fall asleep but her legs sure didn't have a problem, Rosette realized that, yup. This was definately the kind of sleep that Deadpool wasn't going to wake up from anytime soon. Rosette sighed and shifted as best she could to get as close to comfortable as possible (a long, long shot). At least he didn't throw up on her boots or something. Not that she was wearing any, but, yes, very glad Deadpool wasn't the pukey sort of druink.

And he better appriciate this in the morning, dammit.

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Our Lady of Fandom, Sunday Insanely late night

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