Disclaimer: Yeah, I'll keep on dreaming that I own either one of them.

This has been sitting around on my computer for a while. Every now and then I've gone and fiddled with bits of it and then left it to gather dust. Because seriously, who takes to writing a fic from Deadpool's pov and doesn't feel a bit nervous about how it turns out. Well, not me anyway. But I can't deny that I sort of like it, it makes me feel better about things.

This is very much slash. It takes place around the last few issues of the Cable & Deadpool team-up (I'm seriously not going to bother to check exactly where, but probably between the last two issues) and probably doesn't quite fit into canon, but close enough. There's quite a bit of references to the comic, so I don't know how much sense this will make if you don't have at least some sort of idea of what was happening. I make no excuses for the schmoopyness, this was my feel good fic of the moment, because I was a bit upset about Cable being absent and going of to do his thing in his own comic.

I think it was probably on a Monday that I woke up from the usual dream and turned to Nate to ask if it was anything too embarrassing.

"Just the usual," Nate answers wearing nothing but that little smile of his.

It takes me awhile to realise that Nate isn't there at all.

"Oh… they still haven't figured out how to bring you back."

Because they will, once they figure out something that won't be too unbelievable and since this is Nathan Summers Askani'son Dayspring Whatever we're talking about here that shouldn't be too hard. They'll believe anything when it comes to him. Is it even possible to screw up his continuity anymore?

So what was taking them so damn long?

"I wonder if you're going to get your powers back."

Nate doesn't say anything at all. That's just so like him.

Bob tells me it was a Tuesday when I decided to go on with my life. Well actually, Bob says it was a Tuesday when Weasel's thingamajig went screwy and we ended up on our little trip through time. And wasn't that inspirational, the time travel I mean. Very inspiring and all. I figured out that I made my official announcement of going on with things then all on my own. Not that my memory has always been something to trust.

But at least Bob should know the day. He's good for those sorts of things. Keeps time well, what with keeping the blog updated and he's housebroken. Also, he's just kind of endearing. I think I'll keep him around.

Anyway, I'm sure that happened before that last Monday. Probably. Even though Tuesdays mostly come after Mondays, but that's really not the point here. The point is that that decision didn't work out too well. Not that I haven't been doing good, better than in a long time really, but that letting go and not looking back I was supposed to be doing isn't really happening.

So the way it looks like this story is going I'm convinced it must have been on some Wednesday or other that I'm sitting in front of the TV. And not avoiding the others at Agency X at all. They just don't have the proper appreciation for some TV shows, that's all.

It's in the middle of Golden Girls when I have this sudden revelation (and it has to be serious because this revelation is making me ignore Bea Arthur) that I'm actually worried that Nate isn't coming back. How stupid is that?

"But he's Cable. CABLE. They can't not bring back Cable."

I'll just have to wait for a while. Yeah, that's right. Sooner or later, they're bound (Heh. Bound.) to bring Nate back. I can wait.

I can.

It's not like Nate's everything I have going for me in my life. Not anymore. Things are going pretty good.

"They're going to give me my own series aren't they?"

Because things really are going surprisingly good for me right now, except for the whole no Nate deal. Which is stupid since this is still a team-up.

Well as long as they bring Nate back, there's always that month to sneak of to see him without anyone noticing.

"Wade, I'm worried about you," Sandi says on what must be a Thursday. A lot later than last Wednesday and at least a few missions later. "You haven't even been arguing with Alex for a few days now. That's nice for the rest of us really, but it's not like you."

Isn't that nice. I have people who actually care. Because I remember it going a bit badly for a while with the whole friend thing. As in, I didn't have any.

"I just started wondering that what if they bring back some alternate Cable that doesn't even remember any of his whole Jesus thing or you know… me? Then I had this horrible dream where they made Nate all time travelling again. So they might do that, which would be not cool at all since I don't travel in time. Well I have, but that's been by accident and I don't think I could go see Nate if they did that, no matter how sneaky I try being. They wouldn't do that would they? It was a horrible nightmare and not what they're actually doing right now, right? Because that was a really successful thing, I tell you. Tell me I'm just being crazy and that's not what they're doing."

And Sandi gives me this sad sort of look (and kind of like she thinks I'm crazy, but since I kind of am that's okay.)

It's in the middle of a Friday afternoon poker game at Agency X and even Tasky's shown up for it, he's been around lately again for some reason (and it's looking like he's getting all friendly with Sandi again, which really isn't surprising with the way Alex looks like nowadays), when he walks in the door. There's no warning. At all. And it's a Friday and the way the story was going this far if this happened it should have been on a Sunday… or maybe a Saturday. Definitely not on a Friday.

"Hello Wade."

So of course I vault over the table (because I'm just that awesome), pull up my mask and remove any lingering doubt anyone might have about the nature of my relationship with Cable.

The kiss is all desperation and pent up frustration and all the fears of Nate never coming back. It's longing and relief and never wanting to let go. Which is quite a lot for one kiss to be, but we're just good like that.

"Nate?" I ask him once the kiss finally ends, holding on to the metal and flesh body. Because I'm not letting go quite yet. I mean I would, but Nate seems to not want to let go yet and trying to get away would just be rude. Right. See it's not because I don't want to move anywhere. "It's you isn't it? You, you. Not clone you, or past you or other dimension you. Because that would be kind of awkward right now."

The next morning, which is obviously a Saturday, I wake up from the usual dream and ask Nate if I said anything too embarrassing.

"Just the usual," Nate answers wearing nothing but that smile of his.

So I poke Nate in the chest, the fleshy part of it, because that hurts less. Well it hurts me less anyway.

"Just making sure," I explain as Nate gives me a look. Nate is good at looking. And he's kind of good looking too come to think of it. Especially for an old geezer. And teenaged Nate was hot.

Ah. Teenaged Nate…

Nate looks at me (which is completely different from the way he looked at me just a moment ago. I tell you he's really good at it) and smiles indulgently, flashy eye and all.

I think he probably can't help being condescending. It's like part of what makes him Nate, would be saviour and all around hero with a tortured past. And his whole time travel and telepathy didn't help any with the not looking down at others. Oh, and can't forget he's a genius too. No wonder they want to put the guy in his own comic. It's not like he needs crazy, funny, psychotic, occasionally heroic Deadpool.

It's a good thing I don't make a habit of feeling inferior to anyone.

"No, but I like having you," Nate smirks.

"Hey, did they give you your powers back?"

"I know you." And the guy really doesn't know how to stop that all knowing mysterious, never give you a straight answer crap. "Besides, you were talking out loud again." Nate says his eyes twinkling with laughter. Metaphorically. Well the left eye kept on flashing like always so kind of literally too.

"Oh…"

"…"

"Damn."

"…"

"So you were saying something about having me…" I leer at him.

"I did, didn't I?"

And a few moments later.

"Oh yeah, that techno organic mesh really does rise to the occasion when needed."

That's the last time I see Nate, because on Sunday all I wake up to is an empty bed and a slip of paper. And didn't this story turn into a big old cliché.

But yes, I wake up all alone because Nate's off to his own book, being a hero and humongously successful. In the future. And it's a wonder really that he even managed to get back to see me and I should just be grateful that the guy isn't dead. Right.

Sorry, the slip of paper says and then a bit lower, looking much messier and kind of hurried. Which probably means that either Nate had been in a hurry or he just wasn't sure if he should have written it… Anyways right there on the paper, in messy and hasty letters it says:

Love you.

He didn't sign it. Not that he needed to.

"Yeah, love you too," I tell the air dryly.

And that's the last thing I hear from Nate.

Until the next time of course.

What? That's the way these things work. There's bound to be a crossover sooner or later. Or something. There always is.