When Saturday comes around, Wade heads into the city. Matt and Foggy, separately and together, sent him emails containing information about Gwen Stacy and her predicament with some asshole named Eddie Brock. The guy sounds like someone Wade would like to punch on principle, but he has promised to be well behaved.

Wade decides to get a hotel room instead of having to drive back to New Salem that night. He sends Gwen a text asking about when and where they want to meet, and she opts to come to the hotel since it is close to the gallery and has secured parking. Wade checks into the room, and gets changed into his suit. He only owns one, and it is perfectly tailored to his body. It was something he got in London shortly after he and Shiklah were married and she insisted that he have a bespoke suit. He actually hates the term "bespoke" for some reason, but the suit fits very well and the material feels like silk against the rough skin of his legs.

He's just finished buttoning his waistcoat when there is a knock on the door. Wade opens the door without looking through the viewer and finds a gorgeous blond woman with bright blue eyes that seem to sparkle when she smiles. She's dressed in a conservative black dress with converse sneakers on her feet and strappy heels dangling from her fingers.

"Hello!" she says cheerfully as she extends her hand. "I'm Gwen. And I really hope you are Wade Wilson."

"In the flesh," he says as he takes her hand. She has soft skin. He backs away from the door, and says, "Make yourself comfortable. I just need to finish putting on my party dress."

Gwen sits in one of the plush chairs and starts untying her sneakers. "Matt told me you are a friend from bootcamp?"

"Yeah. We've known each other a long time." Wade puts on his suit jacket, and says, "I know your father too. We have a mutual friend. Captain Rogers."

"Ah, of course." Gwen's tone isn't as happy. She adds, "Just don't let that get in the way of us having some fun tonight. If I wanted a bodyguard that was all worried about my dad's approval, I would have asked a cop."

Wade laughs at that, and says, "Well, I've only met him once. Don't worry. I'll be as devil-may-care as possible, within the bounds of social decency."

"Good." She chuckles and says, "My best friend was supposed to be my escort, but he is kind of a brilliant idiot and ended up making plans with his aunt. Jerk."

Wade shrugs. "Well, you can't say 'no' to an aunt. It's empirically proven."

Gwen laughs and stands up in her heels just as Wade is finished with his coat. She walks to him and adjusts the collar of his shirt, and Wade finds the proximity interesting. Gwen is pretty and has a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. She's the kind of girl that Wade would charm the pants off of, if he was so inclined. Except, Wade isn't feeling particularly inclined.

A little known fact: sex drive changes as you get older. When Wade was in his twenties, all he needed was a guy or girl to throw breeze his direction for his dick to get hard. Now that he's getting close to 40, he isn't as easily aroused. Right after everything went to hell with his marriage, Wade had a couple short flings that were as skeevy as they were unsatisfying. Now, he's more interested in someone who would call 9-1-1 if he fell in the shower than he is a one night stand. With the exception of a certain chemistry professor, Wade hasn't felt attraction for anyone for a while.

Wade holds out his elbow and says, "Shall we?"

The gallery is packed when Wade and Gwen arrive, and Wade feels completely out of his element. Gwen is very knowledgeable about art, and as they walk through the crowd she talks to different acquaintances about the mood and tone and composition, and mostly Wade just sees a blur of colors and sculptures that don't make much sense to him. He's never been all that into modern art because sometimes it just looks like styrofoam balls stuck to a green board. Which is his exact impression of the display on the back wall. The longer he stares, the more convinced he is that it is, in fact, just styrofoam balls stuck on a green piece of sheetrock.

Gwen slips her arm into his, getting Wade's attention. She'd been talking to curator of the collection when Wade wandered to the styrofoam balls. "You have a look that says a kindergartener could do this."

"Mama always said I had an expressive face." Wade frowns at the styrofoam balls. "I don't get it."

"You don't have to get it, really." Gwen chuckles. "With this stuff, you have to kind of find some kind of hidden meaning. For example, if someone asks what you think of this, you could say that it is a statement on the artificiality of the city and the underlying desire of the artist for things that are green and natural."

Wade huffs. "That sounds like a lot of bullshit."

"Art critics love bullshit." Gwen leads him around to another sculpture by the same artist. It is a larger foam ball, this time sitting on a wood block made from packing crates. She says, "What does this sculpture say to you, Wade?"

Wade gives her a side-eye glance, then studies the piece. He says, "I think the artist is trying to convey that he or she was moving."

Gwen gives him an elbow.

"Fine, fine." Wade studies it some more and says, "Maybe like, because the ball is on top of something that says 'Fragile' when it isn't going to break, but it was shipped like it was priceless or something. So, uh, I guess it is a statement of something along the lines of putting value on worthless things? Maybe being superficial?"

Gwen beams a smile and kisses his cheek, her lips lingering a moment longer than necessary, Wade notes. "Good. Now if someone who looks like a critic asks you the same thing, go with that answer."

Gwen makes Wade come with her to mingle, and introduces him to Pepper Potts. It takes Wade a minute to remember where he recognizes her from. That is until there is a mention of Stark Industries, and Wade remembers that she's only the top paid executive in the country regardless of gender. Most of the people at the gallery are in some way connected to Stark Industries. Turns out that this opening is a charity event, and all the proceeds are going to help a youth science program in Hell's Kitchen.

Really, it isn't that bad. Wade manages to make some small talk, and Gwen keeps giving him these looks that make him a little curious as to what she has on her mind. Doesn't help that she stays latched onto him. She's also drinking a good amount of champagne, which may have something to do with how feely she is, though she seems to really enjoy running her hand over his left bicep.

A little after 11, Gwen nudges him and says, "Want to get out of here? I still need to pick up my sneakers from your hotel room."

Wade is no fool. He's lived long enough to know that the look Gwen gives him coupled with the tone of her voice is strongly indicative of certain desires. He knows this, and it makes him feel apprehensive. Suddenly he wishes that someone would burst through the door with a flamethrower so he'd have something to do other than deal with the sudden air of sexual tension. He feels too warm, and he's sure that his palms are sweating, but Gwen's not holding his hand. Gwen's holding his arm and doing that rubby thing against his bicep as they step outside.

And then she's suddenly got a death grip on his arm, and Wade looks at her face, but her eyes are across the street.

Her voice has lost all sensuality when she says, "That's him."

Eddie Brock doesn't look like much, in Wade's opinion. Sure, he's a little taller and a little broader than Wade, but that doesn't mean shit. He looks like someone who's never been in a real fight, but the way he's walking toward them, he looks like he wants one.

"Let's go," Gwen says, and her voice is full of fear.

Wade leans down to her ear and asks in a soft but stern voice, "If you want to go, we'll go. If you want me to fix this, I'll fix this. What do you want?"

Gwen looks almost terrified as she says, "I want him to leave me alone."

Wade nods. Brock is getting closer to them, making a steady line through the crowd on the sidewalk. He looks more and more pissed the closer he gets. Wade's not sure if he's armed or not, but that's never been a bother before.

"I want to talk to you," Brock says to Gwen, and Gwen's grip on Wade's arm gets a little tighter.

"Just leave me alone," Gwen begs.

Brock takes a step forward, and Wade puts a hand on his chest and says, "The lady asked you to leave her alone. She doesn't want to talk to you. It's time to go home."

There are a lot of things that can be gauged from body language. For one, Eddie Brock thinks that just because he's taller than Wade that he can be intimidating because he puffs out his chest trying to use all of his size to his advantage. He's also thinking about swinging a fist. Wade can see the way Brock's playing out a fight in his head with just the movement of his eyes. Wade also knows that he doesn't want to be the one who swings first; that's assault. So he does the next best thing. He rolls his right shoulder in a faint, and Brock takes the bait and throws a fist hard into Wade's jaw.

Faster than anyone can blink, Wade has Brock on his knees with his arm twisted up behind his back. All Brock can do is let out a surprised yelp. He starts to struggle, and Wade smirks as he twists the arm a little harder. If he keeps going, he'll dislocate the wrist and shoulder.

"Look friend," Wade says calmly, bending down to Brock's ear as blood starts to drip from the split lip the punk gave him. "I know that Miss Stacy is a very beautiful woman, and you are probably pretty upset that she is not interested in you. God knows, I would be a little bummed myself. But the thing is, she told you no. She said to leave her alone. Now you will follow that request. And if I ever hear from Miss Stacy that you are bothering her, you and I will have another talk, during which I will break all your bones in alphabetical order. Understand?"

Brock hisses, "Fuck you."

Wade wrenches his arm a little harder and something inside pops. "What was that?"

"I'll leave her alone!" he all but screams.

Wade gives his arm a final twist before shoving him to the ground. He spit a wad of blood beside Brock's head. He kind of wants to kick the bastard, but there's a sizeable audience gathered around. Wade pulled a napkin out of his pocket from the horderves and wipes the blood from his chin, then casually holds out his elbow for Gwen. "You ready to leave, Miss Stacy?"

Gwen latches onto him, wide eyed and mouth hanging slightly ajar, and they walk to a waiting taxi. During the ride to the hotel, Gwen won't let go of Wade and he lets her cling. She's stressed and scared, and has every right to be. Though Matt didn't go into the full details, he knows that she and Brock were in a relationship and when she broke it off, he started threatening her. Criminal charges didn't stick for whatever reason, and now she is suing him for defamation.

They get up to Wade's room and as he closes the door and turns, Wade says, "You know, I could teach you some self defense techniques that would make you the scariest thing in a…"

He's cut off because Gwen is kissing him, and at first Wade is a little too surprised to reciprocate. Then he does reciprocate and his brain reminds him that she is just feeling the adrenaline and champagne, and he carefully extracts himself from her spider-like embrace.

"I don't think this is a good idea," Wade says, holding her at arm's length. Parts of him are angry and protesting his level-headedness, but he soldiers on. "You've been under stress and that's what you're feeling now. I've seen this before."

"Do you ever just shut up?" Gwen asks with a look that screams at Wade for being an idiot. "Look, I'm not interested in some kind of relationship with you. Don't get me wrong, you're sexy and funny, but I'm a busy woman with a lot of things going on right now. And yeah, I'm stressed and there's adrenaline, and I'd rather work it out with you instead of my vibrator."

Wade feels his brain go offline. There is practically an audible click. Other parts of him seem to be reacting differently, but he ignores those parts because he is a man of principle (or something like that) and he says, "I can't. I'm sorry."

Gwen glares at the wall and shakes her head. "Matt said you were a classy gentleman who doesn't put out on the first date."

"I am classy," Wade says with a smirk. "Did he mention honorable? Because I'm a very honorable motherfucker."

"Sometimes I hate honorable men," Gwen complains. Then she sighs and gripshis lapels, carefully avoiding the spot where blood dripped. "I'm not going to say I'm not disappointed. You are definitely going to be in my fantasies for a while. The way you manhandled Brock, I just…" She bites her lip and Wade can't help but chuckle at the way her eyes roll back her head as she says, "Unf! Probably the sexiest thing I've ever seen."

"Trust me, the fantasies will be better than the reality," Wade demures, and he can practically hear Nate shouting at him for the negative self-talk.

She lets him go and takes a step back, looking around the room a moment before asking, "Mind if I hang out here with you anyway? I just… I don't know. I don't want to be alone. I promise I'll behave myself."

"Normally I'm the one who has to say that." Wade gestures to the chair and says, "Make yourself at home. I think I have two sets of jammies in my bag."

Wade and Gwen end up watching a short marathon of Impractical Jokers, and eating room service ice cream. She accepted his offer of pajama pants and she is practically swimming in the material. She took up residence on the bed, and Wade lounges across the chair with his feet kicked over the armrest, going between eating the ice cream and holding the carton against his busted lip.

Mostly they talk. Wade tells her a little about his military background and that he's now going to college. Gwen is just thrilled that he is taking that step. She's a chemist by profession, working for Stark Industrial. She talks about her work, her family, and her friends.

"I think that's why it's fun to hang out with different people now and then," Gwen says after dropping her spoon into the empty ice cream container. "All my friends only want to talk about work, but we all do the same thing, so there's no variety. You at least have some good stories."

"I have to admit that I'm kind of into Chemistry lately," Wade says. He's only halfway through his pint and feeling relaxed. "Of all the classes I'm taking, Chem is probably the most fun. Doesn't hurt that the professor has an ass you could bounce a quarter off."

"You've got to love the sexy professors," Gwen says. "I had one for art history that I flirted with. Constantly. Like Indiana Jones, writing 'I Love You' on my eyelids flirting." She laughs and adds, "I was kind of shameless when I was younger."

"When you were younger?" Wade says with a grin, and she flicks melted ice cream at his forehead from her spoon.

Gwen sticks her tongue out, then asks, "So are you going to NYU or…?"

"New Salem Community College," Wade says as he takes another bite. "It's nice. Small campus. The town is pretty cute and small and not…" He trails off because the expression on her face is somewhere between surprised and confused. Maybe even amused. His brow furrows. "What?"

"What's your chemistry teacher's name?" she asks, and Wade can tell that something horrible is about to happen.

Instead of answering, he asks, "Why?"

"It's Peter Parker, isn't it!" And her eyes are practically sparkling with joy.

"Uh…" Is all that Wade can manage before she cackling and practically rolling on the bed from how hard she's laughing, and Wade is both concerned and frightened. Actually, he's terrified. Though his mouth has suddenly gone dry, he says, "I assume you know him?"

Gwen sits back up and wipes the tears off her face, still laughing, as she says, "Yeah. I know him. He's been my best friend since high school."

"Oh shit," is all Wade can manage to say as the embarrassment falls upon him like a shroud. Suddenly he wishes he'd gone with the post-adrenaline sex; there would have been less talking. Hiding behind his hand, he grumbles, "I swear by all that is holy, this world is too goddamn small."

Gwen breaks into another fit of laughter, and Wade gives her a side-eye glare. Once she catches her breath, she says, "I swear I'm not laughing at you. It's not that. It's… It's just something else."

Now Wade's getting nervous. "What."

"Sorry," Gwen says, finally catching her breath, though she's still giggling. "It's bro-code."

"Bro-code?"

She nods. "You know. Bros first kind of thing."

"Does bro-code extend to certain ex-marines who'd like to not feel weird in chem class Monday?" Wade asks.

"Oh I won't tell," Gwen says with a chuckle and a shove to his shoulder. "You made my asshole stalker cry on the street. You bled because of me. We're totally bros now."

"Just doing my job, ma'am," Wade says with a half-hearted cocky grin, again hiding behind his hand.

Gwen leaves a little after two o'clock and texts him later to let him know that she made it home safely. Wade feels like he should beg her to forget anything he said about Peter's ass, but knows he doesn't really have to. Gwen is nice; she's not going to rat him out. Hopefully. Please. Please let bro-code be a real thing.

Wade is also acutely aware that he is behaving like a teenager with a crush, but as he lays down to sleep he reminds himself that he is an adult. Adults do not have crushes. They… Actually, he has no idea what adults are supposed to act like. He's amazed some days that people willfully put him in command of others. But the military was different. There were rules and protocols. He knows how to be an adult in the military.

As a civilian, Wade has no idea what the fuck he's doing.