fandomtownies | Theodoric of York, Monday Afternoon

It had been a very long couple of weeks for Cable's back. Luckily, inhabiting the island meant that it was somewhat easier to tend to than the last time he'd found himself wandering the globe. Which is what found Nathan lying facedown on a massage table, the masseuse's hands placed strategically along the line of his techno-organic parts.

"Oof. There's a knot just a little to the-- yep."

One could almost feel the eyerolling that emanated from the cellphone lying a few inches away from his head. "You're in another dimension. Why am I still keeping your schedule?"

"Because materials from this dimension, as well as the ones it is connected to, might be useful in ours. Ow. Uhm, a little further up, please. And because I could have to interfere in our universe at any time. And because I'm still responsible for your salary."

"You're also still technically dead."

"I never let that stop me."

There was a sigh on the other end of the line. "So how are you? Really."

"A little chilled."

"After everything that happened with the baby..."

"She's-- oof-- in the right spot. I don't forsee any problems."

"Okay, this is the last time I'm going to let you talk me into talking to you while you're off finding happiness as a metrosexual, Nate."

"Don't forget to send me the ozone details."

"Later, Nathan."

[ mostly establishy but for one, and obviously Theodoric's got other facilities which are free to be used for all, yay. ]

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"...you are so very metro."

Deadpool had a reason to be here. It was called research for his class.

Nate quirked one of his eyes open. The masseuse took that precise moment to practically whack the air out of his lungs with a well-aimed push.

When that was over, and he'd breathed in again, he muttered, "Try to carry this on your back every day-- oof-- thank you, Emma."

"Metro," Wade sang cheerfully. "And I will never let you live it down in a fight."

"I think I'll survive that," Nate shot back, closing his eyes now that he'd determined Wade's identity. "Glass houses. Most people think you wear pyjamas."

"They're not pajamas," Wade snapped, arms over his chest.

"Of course not."

Well, not by the rules of their universe, but sometimes Wade was fun to mock.

And sometimes Nate was fun to shoot.

"So... Arashi and I discussed some sort of therapy."

That wasn't awkward at all.

No. Not at all.

"Well," Nate said, before he was interrupted by another nudge at a painful knot, "...That might be helpful."

Not that he'd ever do it. Given enough time, he was sure Dom and he could've fixed their problems together.

"Yeeeah. And then realized we have no one to talk to together about this as he seems to trust Aly a lot more than me and the mountie is right out of the equation and well, we all know his dislike of you for some reason."

"So...?"

He was just going to let Wade get to whatever point. If he had one.

And otherwise offer some advice.

"So, I'm talkin' to you." Wade nodded. "Because between the two of us, there has to be at least one healthy relationship to gleam information from."

...Wade was coming to him for advice. Now that had been a while. It was encouraging.

He just never figured it'd be about something like this. "Um," he said, eloquently. The masseuse rolled her eyes and pressed his form firmly against the bed. "--I can't say it's my greatest field of knowledge," he said, tactfully.

Now was not the time to miss Providence and its extensive staff. He wasn't going to let go of the new in-road, though. "But I know a few things. We can talk."

He dearly hoped he wasn't going to regret this one.

...he probably was.

This was Deadpool here.

"Excellent! So..." He cleared his throat. "I'mma just say right now that you need to put on pants before we continue this."

"Ten minutes," the masseuse provided, cracking down on the top of Nate's spine.

There might have been a vague rumble in agreement from Nate, there.

"I'll be outside, eating the cucumber slices!"

Twelve minutes and sixteen seconds later, Nate had made it to the door with his jogging pants firmly secured where they should be, and pushed it open. "Don't run the place out of business."

Just in case Wade had started on the cucumber slices.

They were good!

"Like that's possible with you getting your manscaping here."

"...'manscaping'?"

He glanced around for a seat.

And decided that, honestly, there probably wasn't enough booze in the world to have this conversation if it got too close to personal, and hence, did not in fact sit down.

"It's like landscaping, but for men." A beat. "Something Logan does not do and oh god my eyes!"

"I don't really want to think about Logan," he said, truthfully.

Because...

...He really didn't want to.

Wade continued to clutch his eyes. "MY EYES!"

On the other hand, that reaction was maybe a little excessive, considering... "He's not here."

"But I can picture it and now I can't open them without seeing a lightning bolt waxed there!"

"You'll get over it," Nate said, automatically, glancing at the door. He wondered if this meant he could go get his shirt on and maybe head for some kind of bar. Or fridge. Before they had this one. "Please stop putting these things in my head."

"You're the one at a spa!"

It was probably better to cut right through it. "I think we should grab a beer."

"But then we're alcoholics and that's a bad thing all aroun-- We aren't you moving now? Come on! Beer!"

He was in an odd mood.

"You're easily swayed today," Nate deadpanned, stalking towards the dressing room. "Let me get my coat." And shirt.

"And I want beer before discussing these deeply personal things."

"Agreed."

And he shut the door of the dressing room securely behind him.

Theodoric of York, Monday Afternoon

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