"I'm only here because Logan is forcing me to be here."
"Can it, Wade. We all know you can leave anytime you want," Logan growled from a corner in the room.
"How do you know Molly?" Steve asked sitting across the table from him.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Deadpool leaned forward putting his elbows on the table that separated him and Steve.
"That's why I asked."
"You're not her type." Logan walked over and smacked Wade on the back of the head hard enough for his head to bounce off the table.
"Answer the question!"
"Make me you fucking weasle!" Logan tensed so much it felt like the entire world shifted.
"What did you just say?"
"You… fucking… weasel." Logan brought out his claws and stabbed him in the head. Steve shot out of his chair.
"What the hell? We need him!"
"Relax, Rogers. He's fine," Logan said walking back to his corner leaving Deadpool in a pool o his own blood. Slowly Deadpool began to twitch. He raised his head quickly.
"Was it something I said?" Steve rolled his eyes.
"Where is Molly?" Steve tried again. Deadpool looked around the room.
"You know, this is a really shitty interrogation room." he said. "You don't even have motion tracking turrets. Or a camera. Or a two-way mirror. That one is a must have."
"Where is Molly?" Deadpool stared at him.
"You know, I've heard of you, Captain. They found you frozen in an iceburg. Being frozen has killed your brain cells."
"Where's Molly, you freak!?" Steve yelled. Deadpool's raction was hidden by his mask. He pointed to his chest.
"That hurt me, man. Right there." Steve leaned back in his chair, running his hand over his face.
"We know you know her."
"I know you know I know her. I want to know why you want her."
"That's none of your business, Wade," Logan said. Deadpool seemingly glared at Logan.
"Where is she?"
"You know, for someone to come so highly recommended, you're really annoying." Steve slapped the table so hard it dented.
"Where is she!?"
"I don't know! I never know when she's on the job! Not until she needs me!" Deadpool yelled throwing his hands up in the air.
"What kind of job?" Steve asked glad to finally be getting somewhere. Deadpool leaned back in his chair crossing his arms.
"She's a prostitute. And a damned good one. She can suck your dick clean off and you'll still beg for more." Steve closed his eyes shaking his head.
"Oh no," he said.
"You've fucked up, Wade," Logan said. Clint burst into the room in a rage and grabbed Wade, picked him up and slammed him on the table. Steve stood quickly backing away from the table. Clint pulled out a knife and stabbed it into Deadpool's chest right between his ribs. Deadpool screamed trying to reach for the knife, but Clint twisted it.
"Listen here you psychotic fucking douchbag. You tell me where she is or I'm going to really enjoy the fact that you can't die," he growled.
"I told you I don't know!" he yelled. Clint twisted the knife more.
"Where!?"
"I… AH!" As much as Steve didn't care what happened to Deadpool he did fear for Clint's sanity.
"Alright, Clint that's enough. We need him to talk, not scream." Deadpool stopped squirming as soon as he heard Clint's name and looked at Steve then back to Clint.
"Clint? This Clint?" he asked pointing to his own hip.
"Yes, I'm that Clint." Deadpool pushed the knife out of him and sat up. Blood sputtered out of his wound but it soon stopped.
"I'll tell you everything you want to know if you tell me why she has your name tattooed on her."
Clint pulled his shirt up and pulled down the side of his pants exposing a tattoo of Molly's name on his hip.
"We got these on our honeymoon."
"Honeymoon…" Deadpool whispered. "No wonder she wouldn't sleep with me."
"And the fact that your face looks like it was sent through a meat grinder had nothing to do with it?" Logan grumbled.
"Yeah sure, rub that in my face."
"I don't want to be anywhere near your face."
"Shut up!" Clint yelled. He took a deep breath.
"Where did you find her?"
"In the middle of a jungle in India. She was beaten nearly to death. To the point to where I felt sorry for her. So, I saved her."
Clint suddenly became short of breath. He searched his mind for another question, but nothing came to mind. All he could think about is how he left her for dead and allowed her to be beaten by random people.
"Why did you help her that day in my apartment?" Steve asked since Clint wasn't.
"It's apart of our deal."
"Deal?"
"Yeah, I help her find her memories, she helps find a way for me to die." There was a heavy silence.
"Where is my wife?" Clint pleaded.
"I can call her. Maybe she'll answer." Clint held out a cell phone. Deadpool took it from him and dialed a number.
"I'm at the rendezvous point. Where are you?" Molly asked her arms crossed.
"We had some minor set backs…" BEEP! "there in a…" BEEP!
"Hang on," Molly said. "I'm getting a call.
"Wh-" Click.
"Talk to me and make it fast."
"Hey, Molly. What are you doing?" Molly rolled her eyes.
"I'm working, muckrake. You know that."
"Oh yeah, How are you doing?"
"Dammit, Wade!" she yelled smacking her forehead. There was a lot of commotion on the other end, screaming and sounds of people fighting each other.
"Okay! Okay! I'll tell her!" Deadpool yelled. "Molly, I found him."
The whole world froze. She couldn't believe it. Clint had been found. The only lead she had to her memories had been found.
"Who is he, Wade?"
"Uh, I think you'll want to get here and see for yourself. Where are you?"
"I'm in England. It'll take me a while to get there."
"You'd better hurry. You're not going to believe this." Wade hung the phone up. Molly switched back to her other phone call she had for her client.
"Get here now or I leave with the package."
"You do that and we'll hunt you down like the dog you are." Molly chuckled.
"I hold the package. I hold the power. You're in no shape to be making idle threats."
This continued for several minutes until her client arrived and picked up the package. She then slipped into shadow, using her powers to travel quickly to the airstrip where her plane was.
She started going through the procedures of starting the airplane. An overwhelming fear coursed through her veins. Her hands shook. Her stomach lurched.
This happened all the time when she was getting ready to fly. She wasn't sure why, but she knew she wouldn't be able to do her job without flying. She hoped this Clint would be able to shed some light on it.
She took off from the airstrip and the fear melted away. However, a new fear gripped her throat. Who was this Clint? How was he important enough to her to where his named was tattooed on her forever? She wiped nervous sweat from her brow.
She called Wade back and asked him to turn his tracker on so she could lock onto his coordinates. She tried to get more information about Clint, but Wade said he didn't want to ruin the surprise.
"I'm going to kill you when I get there," she said and hung up the phone. She set the autopilot and got up.
She walked back into the small plane and grabbed a duffle bag. She changed into much more comfortable attire. She couldn't stand wearing leather. She could hardly move in it, but she had to admit, her butt looked good in leather pants.
She grabbed some moist towelettes and gave her body a quick wipe down. She didn't want to smell like sweat meeting this Clint character. She changed into a pair of blue jeans and a flannel button up that was left open revealing a white undershirt.
She sat down in the pilot's seat biting her nail. She tried to picture what Clint looked like. She soon gave up for fear of being disappointed when they finally met. Her thoughts wandered to who he could be to her. Was he her brother? Maybe father? What kind of bond did they share?
Several hours later, Molly landed her plane more than happy to be back on the ground.
Wade was waiting for her as she stepped off the plane. His expression was unknown as he scratched the back of his head.
"You ready?" he asked. A sharp pain of nervousness shot through her.
"Who is he?" Wade didn't answer her, he simply held out his hand. Molly swallowed hard taking his hand. The scenery changed suddenly and now they were standing in the middle of a room.
In front of them leaning against the wall stood a man. He stood nearly a whole head taller than she did. His sharp eyes seemed to pierce through her very soul as he stared at her. He was very handsome. Her heart fluttered a peculiar flutter that seemed so familiar. She knew this man. She knew she did.
"You're Clint?" she whispered. He nodded as hope shot through him. She had dreamt of this day for so long. She had thought about all the different ways she would react. None of that prepared her for the actual meeting.
She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist. She took a deep breath smelling the leather, oil, and musk that was so familiar. His arms immediately wrapped around her holding her tight against him.
"You have no idea how long I have been looking for you," she whispered.
He released a shaky breath. She pulled away from him looking him in the eye.
"Who are you?" She could almost see the pain break him apart.
"Clint Barton. I'm your husband."
The whole world fell out from under her. Her husband? She had never considered the possibility. Not even once. She had looked in the mirror many times and had never seen herself as someone's wife. She searched his eyes. She wasn't sure what she was looking for. Maybe she was hoping he was lying, but…
She believed him.
