It was the longest christmas eve that Peter had ever experienced. And walking in the freezing streets of New York in nothing but an overcoatand pyjamas did not add to the experience. This night was becoming a living hell.
Earlier in the evening, the arch-villain "Mysterio" was apparently back from the dead. *Again*. And what was the first thing he did? Why, the first thing anyone would do after resurrection. Kidnap a school bus full of children to lure out a super-hero to fight. His super power? The intense ability to mindrape. Because of him, two children are in critical condition and thirteen more are going to be in therapy for the rest of there lives. He got away during the ensuing battle, of course. To make matters worse, Mary Jane, being a firm believer in the christmas spirit, had told him that if he abandoned her on Christmas Eve he shouldn't bother coming back. All this and more ran through Peters' head as he entered the bar. He needed a drink.
The first thing that Peter noticed about the bar was how totally empty it was. Usually the holidays were a depressing time for a lot of people, people who love to drown their sorrows with alcohol.
There was the one-eyed bar tender, who was shaking profusely- which was odd, because it was quite warm in the building, especially compared to outside. Then there was one other person. He was the only customer in the joint. The man wore a black and red-
'Oh no...' thought Peter, wide eyed with shock. 'Not tonight... Anyone but him...'
Deadpool ordered another beer.

If there was ever a sociopath more suited to being classified as a pain in the ass as Deadpool, Peter Parker hadn't the pleasure of meeting him. And the merc was in Peter's city. On Christmas Eve. *Drinking*. This could not end anything other than all kinds of horrible.
But at the current moment, there were no firefights or assasinations in the works- at least by the looks of it- so Spiderman had no reason to intervine. No reason why Peter, an aspiring reporter for the daily bugle, shouldn't however (well, senior photographer, but his antagonist didn't need to know that).
"Dea-"
"Fuck off, Garfield." Deadpool responded without even turning around. "I'm not in the mood to play fanboy today." That took Peter off-guard. In all the times he's teamed up or battled his frenemy, there were always a constant stream of witty (or not so witty) remarks 24/7. Peter sat down beside him, despite the looks he was getting from the bar tender.
"Um, I think you have me confused with someone else..." The mercenary took another sip of his drink under his folded mask. "I'm..."
"Andrew Garfield. I've seen the reboot." A forced smile played on his lips, but vanished almost immediately. The man obviously had *way* too much to drink. It was a perfect time to extract information. "Told you, not in the mood." He still never made eye contact.
The intrepid "reporter" leaned in close. He was loosing his patience.
"Why are you here, Deadpool."
"Getting a drink, what does it look like?" Peter flinched.
"Not what I meant. I meant 'why are you in New York?'"
"What? I can't just "be" somewhere?!" the antivillian responded with malice.
"No!" cried Peter, slamming his fist on the table.
"Why?" Even through his mask, the merc's frown was immistakable.
"Because you're Deadpool!" he cried shaking with fury. The assasin turned back to his drink. Suddenly realizing what was happening, Parker took some deep breaths, trying to calm himself.
"Two beers please."

The one-eyed man behind the counter slid Peter two alcoholic beverages, who in return slid one to the man behind him. Deadpool reluctantly accepted the peace offering as the bar tender went to the other side of the table, as if that would make his problem go away.
"Thanks, Spidy." Mr. Parker literally fell off his chair backwards. That's quite a feat, especially considering he has super agility.
"What?!" he whispered in a harsh tone. For the first Deadpool turned around, ignoring the fact that his once antagonist was sprawled across the floor, and smirked.
"I haven't looked at your face until just now. I recognized your voice." He continued looking for a moment, then added "Petey." Parker looked over at the one other person in the building, but he seemed to be ignoring the two of them and just pretending life wasn't happening. At least until the sober man called for more beer. If there was ever a day to get drunk, it was today.

"I recognized your voice from before, and your build confirmed it. And I recognized your face from the daily bugle. Contrary to popular belief, I do read the paper... ( when I'm not using it to beat Bob, that is). I especially like the the bone gazette..."
As Deadpool ranted about genius deduction and chew toys, Peter drank. Now, Peter Parker was known for many things.
Holding his liquor was not one of them.
"Soo, what's uup?" The unmasked man interupted suddenly. To his surprise, the merc with the mouth stopped for a moment, before replying:
"Two words: Daniel. Way." with a smirk.
"Huh?"
"He gets the occasional LOL moments in but in the grande scheme of things..."
"Not funny, Wade. I mean really. Why are you here?" Wade Wilson (Deadpool) sighed. He took yet another drink.
"You know I could kick your ass if I wanted to." he replied.
"I doubt it." The unsuited Spidy responded.
"It would be close, anyways. Its been close before and I've had no real intention of killing you." This was true. "I'm one of the most powerful men in the universe, but, say, we look at Wolveriene; My weapons are twice as effective. My healing factor is four times better. I'm six times as smart and a thousandfold more badass. Yet he's arguably the most feared person alive, and I'm a joke."

Peter patted his old foe on the back. This was true, the heroes did see him as a joke behind his back, even with all evidence to the contrary.
"There there." he said, not entirely sure what to say.
"Don't be sorry." he replied, not bothering to shove the hand off his back. "I need to look like a clown, or else I'll be registered as a threat. Having the Avengers on my ass 24/7 is *not* good for buisness." he hesitated, then added "and that's not the worst part."
"Oh?" the intoxicated spider asked.
"Loki told me we live in a comic book. Then he turned my text bubbles yellow. Ive confirmed this. Do you know what that means? I'm a joke within a form of entertainment." Both men sighed. This was why Deadpool was never taken seriously.
"You do realize that Loki is the god of mischeif?" Peter inquired.
"Death confirmed it, and that chick does not joke around."
Then Peter did something noone- not even himself- would have expected him to do. Without Wade even asking, Parker metaphorically spilled his guts all over the floor, with a heavy emphasis about the past 24 hours. And for the first time in a long time, Deadpool smiled: he smiled a smile not full of false empathy, or malicious intent, or sadistic humour. He simply smiled. And then he faded away into nothingness.
Could all that have been a figment of Peter's imagination? Maybe Mysterio drugged him with something and he hallucinated the entire scenario. A very odd hallucination, but it seemed like the most likely explanation. Spidy looked at his watch. It was two in the morning; the madman could wait. Unless there was an emergency, Peter fully intended to spend Christmas with his family.

MJ fully greeted him upon arrival, desperately apologizing for Christmas Eve.
"I'm so sorry!" she cried. "You did the right thing. I shouldn't have doubted you. Can you ever forgive me?" Peter smirked.
"Only if I can open a christmas present." She rushed under the tree as Spiderman took off his drenched socks.
"Who's this from?" She asked immediately, picking up a red envelop. It said nothing on the front but "To P.P."
"Only one way to find out." the recipient replied, opening it up.
"I don't remember it being there last night..." Peter covered his mouth in surprise as he pulled out a picture of Mysterio hog- tied in front of a police station. Then he pulled out a note hiding just behind it. It said:
"Same time/Place next week?
dp"

And Spiderman smiled as he remembered that Deadpool has a teleporter.