Generally speaking, Wade Wilson preferred to be a passenger as opposed to a driver. This was the result of growing up in a big city like Toronto, where everything was conveniently located and what wasn't nearby was easily accessed by public transit. It wasn't until he joined the army that he learned to drive, but he still preferred to ride as opposed to drive. This does not mean that Wade likes the driving habits of most people.

Dopinder was prone to road rage when on multilane roads, which always made Wade a little nervous. Neena would occasionally text and drive, which Wade did not approve of—though she stopped doing it in recent history. And Weasel…Wade wasn't sure how Weasel even had a license. Thus, Wade usually spent his time feeling a little anxious when going down the road. It was very common for him to grip the door handle or clamp onto the seat when someone passed too close or he noticed the speedometer was substantially above what seemed safe and sane. This was what Wade was used to.

Riding with Nate was a different story. Maybe it was the fact that Nate did it for a living, or maybe it was the easy way that he had behind the wheel. His awareness of the road conditions was obvious. Normally Wade was flinching and gripping the door, but Nate kept a good amount of space between the truck and everyone else. He kept a steady speed. He didn't change lanes needlessly. He was relaxed, and didn't have even the remotest hint of road-rage. Wade found that after a couple miles, he was completely comfortable.

The idea made him laugh.

"What?" Nate said, his eyes still on the road but a smile on his face.

"Nothing," Wade said. Then he laughed again. "It's just…you are literally the best driver I've ever ridden with."

Nate glanced at him and said, "Does that surprise you?"

Wade shrugged. "It shouldn't, considering you're a truck-drivin' man."

Nate laughed at that. "It probably helps that this is the route I take to work. The company is just past the stadium."

Wade cleared his throat and hesitantly said, "I tend to… I just get nervous in cars, and I'm not nervous."

"Good," Nate said. "I would prefer you comfortable."

"Me too," Wade said. They were quiet for a moment, and Wade wondered at what point this would start to feel awkward. Nate wasn't much of a talker. He kept his answers short and to the point. Wade was the talker. Some might say that he talked way too much. He asked, "How many miles do you think you've driven in your lifetime?"

"A little over 3 million in my career," Nate answered. He huffed a laugh, and said, "I just passed a million for Askani."

Wade's eyes went wide. "Seriously?"

"I do between 100K and 150K every year," Nate said.

"Holy shit!" Wade said, laughing out of shock and surprise. "That's fucking crazy. Don't you ever get tired of it?"

Nate shrugged. "Now and then. Usually in winter."

"All the ice and snow?" Wade asked.

Nate huffed. Wade recognized it as amused. He kind of liked Nate's huffing. "Usually it's the idiots who don't know how to drive on the ice and snow more than the actual weather that's a pain in the ass."

They parked in one of the many parking garages surrounding the stadium, and Nate waved Wade off when he offered to pay the fee. The line for the elevators was long, and neither Wade nor Nate balked at the thought of taking the stairs. Outside the garage, the street was thick with people in red and white and blue and orange shirts. Here and there were street performers, ticket scalpers, and clusters of families with enthusiastic children hyped up for the game.

Wade stayed close to Nate, occasionally bumping into his side. It was hard to talk with all the traffic and noise, so it was a mostly quiet jaunt into the outer part of the stadium. It was…companionable. Every time they bumped shoulders, Nate would glance at him and a subtle look would cross his stern features, like he was happy but had a hard time showing it around others. Wade was intrigued by him. Strangely, it reminded him of when he met Vanessa. She had lived a hard life and always kept her feelings buried behind an impenetrable wall of defense that took Wade years to break through. Wade, for better or worse, always wore his heart on his sleeve and hid behind jokes when things started to hurt.

At the gate, both Wade and Nate emptied their pockets into the trays before passing through the metal detectors. Nate set it off anyway, and that stern look got a little sharper when he raised his shirt sleeve to show the mechanism of his prosthetic. The security guard waved him on.

"Does that ever get annoying?" Wade asked as they walked towards the ramp leading to the concessions area.

Nate shrugged and gave a thin smile. "It was in the beginning, but not so much anymore. The only time I got pissed about it was the last time I flew and some shithead TSA agent wanted me to remove it."

"Asshole," Wade said. "Just to fuck with them, next time you fly, get a cannon attachment."

Nate laughed. "That sounds like something my daughter would request at Halloween."

"Smart kid," Wade said.

Nate nodded, and the two found a short line. Wade realized he wasn't as nervous as he thought he would be. Nate was easy for him to be around. Comfortable. Safe. It wasn't like he was this giant super soldier from the future or anything. He was a little shorter than Wade, but the guy had a presence that made him seem like an anchor. Wade liked that.

After getting a beer each and a couple orders of nachos, they went to find their seats. They were decent seats, in Wade's opinion. Right beside third base, right up front. Wade just wished it was better teams playing. They settled in and Wade propped his feet up on the wall.

"So why don't you like baseball?" Wade asked.

Nate took a drink and said, "I used to play a long time ago."

"Bad coach?" Wade asked.

"The worst," Nate answered. "My father."

"That sounds like a story for after a couple more beers," Wade said.

Nate shrugged. "It isn't that complex. My father was the high school coach, and he wanted me to be like my twin brother, Chris, and go to college on a scholarship. I wanted to drink and fight, and so I joined the military."

Wade picked up on one detail in there. "Did you say twin brother?"

"Yeah. Identical." He frowned. "Or at least we started out that way."

Oh. Sore spot. Wade could see it in Nate's face, though he doubted it was really the looks part that bothered him. "Sibling rivalry?"

"Understatement," Nate said. He sighed. "As I said, he followed my father's plan and I didn't. I'm the black sheep, but not just for that. My family…" He sighed. Wade would figure it out eventually. "My family does not approve of my varied tastes in relationships, and my brother is the most vocal about his homophobia."

"Damn," Wade said. "That's shitty. That's why I've always said Family is the biggest f-word. I mean, my dad was a general, but I barely knew anything about him other than he was a general. Never met him, either. At least, I don't think I did. My mom abandoned me, which was probably the best thing she ever did for me. The army was good for me, though. I ended up in special forces and did a lot of work with Americans in Afghanistan and Iraq. That's how I met Domino. I speak Farsi and Pashto, so I was pretty handy to have around."

"How many languages do you speak?" Nate asked. He liked how fast Wade changed subjects.

"Seven," Wade answered like it was nothing. "Well, seven fluently. I mean, I'm Canadian and my mother was from Quebec, so I speak French and English. The Farsi and Pashto I learned from my neighbor growing up in Toronto. I picked up Spanish, German, and Russian when I was in the army. I also know enough Japanese to get by and probably enough Mandarin to get myself in trouble."

Nate was thoroughly impressed. "Most people I know can barely speak one language."

"What can I say? I have a talented tongue," Wade said. Then he realized what he just said. The look on Nate's face was something like amused. He cleared his throat and said, "You, uh, kind of need that when speaking different languages with all those glottal stops and rolling Rs and such, you know? It is a handy way to accidentally impress someone." Wade was suddenly talking too much, and he couldn't stop himself before saying, "When I first met Vanessa, I read the disclosure statement on a receipt to her in French, and she thought it was a love poem. I really…" Wade fell silent upon realizing what he just said. He coughed. "I, uh… Sorry. I… I didn't mean to—"

"You don't have to apologize, Wade," Nate said. He was so sincere.

"Isn't that a dating no-no, though?" Wade said with a nervous laugh. "Talking about old relationships, I mean."

Nate shrugged. "It doesn't bother me. Hell, I think it would be strange if you didn't talk about her. Then again, I'm often called 'socially awkward' because I spend so much time alone, so I may be the exception if there is a rule."

Wade took a thoughtful drink of beer. "It's strange. I mean, most people get weird when I bring her up."

"Most people can't handle their own shit, let alone someone else's," Nate said.

"True facts," Wade said. He leaned back in his seat and stared at the barrier wall in front of him. After a moment he looked at Nate and said, "Thanks. I promise I won't, like, burst into tears or anything. That would be a little weird on a first date."

Nate gave him a thoughtful look.

Wade amended, "Or, you know, whatever this is."

"I'll leave that up to you," Nate said. He had that subtle smile that made Wade feel funny inside, and it wasn't just the beer or late afternoon sun.

He said, "Let's not apply labels."

"Works for me," Nate said and they clinked bottles to solidify the notion.

They were quiet for a couple minutes as the players were announced. The game started with the usual patriotic fanfare, and after the first pitch, neither Wade nor Nate were paying much attention to the game. They spent most of their time talking about whatever random subject came up. Well, Wade did most of the talking, but Nate kept asking questions like he was interested in hearing what Wade had to say. Generally speaking, most people were eager for him to shut up.

Top of the third inning, Wade started asking more questions of Nate. Mostly, Nate talked about his daughter, Hope. The way he lit up when he mentioned her was kind of adorable to Wade. Or maybe Wade was slowly becoming besotted with the man sitting beside him. It was a strange thought.

Nate confessed, "Hope was originally going to come with me to this, but she decided she wanted to switch weekends so she could go to the lake."

"Is it bad that I feel like I won here?" Wade asked as he took a drink, finishing off his second beer.

"I feel that this outcome is acceptable," Nate said. He almost looked embarrassed, but he was smiling.

Wade grinned. "Acceptable works. I need to run to the head. You want another beer?"

Nate smiled. "That would also be acceptable." He reached for his wallet and Wade waved him off.

"You get the next one," Wade said, and he took off towards the nearest restroom. Despite the crowds and the mediocre teams, Wade was having an excellent time. He wasn't thinking about ways to get the hell out of here or politely tell Nate that he didn't want to hang out any more. In fact, all Wade could think about was enjoying the rest of the evening.

When Wade left, Nate felt like kicking himself. Acceptable. Jesus. This whole thing was more than acceptable. Nate really enjoyed Wade's company. For only knowing him for a week, and this being only the second time in the same physical space, Wade felt like an old friend. He had an easy way about him that was refreshing and Nate was heavily conflicted. Wade seemed heavily conflicted. He may be reluctant to call this anything but friendship, but there was something about his mannerisms that made it all feel… Hell, Nate couldn't even put it to words. Not even in his head.

Nate tried to focus on the game, but baseball couldn't hold his interest on his best day. He was wrapped up in his thoughts and didn't even know why half the crowd was suddenly cheering. He looked towards the field and saw that one of the Cardinals players was now on third base. A run scored. His phone buzzed in his pocket.

Hope: How's the game?

Me: I have no idea.

Hope: LOL! Did your friend come with you? I should have gone with you. Mom and Hammer are fighting.

Nate frowned at that. Not that his ex-wife's relationship was any of his concern. He just didn't like it when Hope got put in the middle of things. It was one of many reasons he didn't introduce his daughter to the people he dated.

Me: Do you need a rescue?

Hope: Negative. Or are you trying to escape a shitty date?

Nate shifted in his seat and looked over his shoulder just as Wade appeared at the top of the stairs. Involuntarily, he smiled. He looked back at his phone and typed a quick reply.

Me: Language. And no, I'm not.

Hope: OOOOOOO! Is this serious? Do I get to meet this one?

Nate could feel his face warming. He was 100% unprepared for this conversation. Yes, he told his daughter that he was going to the game with someone, but he was certain he did not refer to it as a date. Then again, Hope could read him like a book.

Me: I don't think we're quite at the meeting the family stage. We've only known each other a week.

Hope: Twue wuv has no time limit ::heart eyes::

Me: I should have never let you watch Princess Bride. Let me know if you need a rescue. Love you, kid.

Hope: Likewise. Love you, too 3

Wade plopped down beside him just as Nate tucked his phone away. He handed Nate a beer and said, "Are you reporting in?"

Nate laughed. "Something like that. My daughter. She's checking up on me."

"That's adorable," Wade said. "I'm supposed to give a full report to Domino." He gave a half smile and asked somewhat hesitantly, "Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Absolutely," Nate said.

Wade smiled as if he came to a decision and said, "Yeah, me too."

Innings passed. Nate switched to water because he needed to drive, and Wade followed suit because he was grumbling about having a squirrel bladder and needing to run to the bathroom every inning. That's how Nate learned a little about Wade's fight with cancer. A particularly malignant type of skin cancer that left him close to dead several times, and the chemo and radiation played hell on his system. Now and then, he would mention Vanessa and Nate could feel the tug in his heart for the loss his companion had suffered. There were so many things that Nate wanted to know, but that was for Wade to tell in his own time. They had plenty of time for the details.

At some point, Nate realized that the game was over and the stands were starting to empty. For the first time all night, he felt the sting of disappointment. It seemed like only minutes later they were in Wade's driveway. Wade was telling him a story about something that happened when he was a young man in the army while hanging around with a guy named Logan who was very fond of knives, and Nate was laughing at things that probably weren't funny, but it all felt so comfortable and right that it didn't even matter. If he had his way, they would talk all night.

"This was…" Wade started. Shaking his head. "I had a great time. With you. Tonight."

A warm feeling settled into Nate's chest. He said, "Me too."

Wade grinned and they both looked at each other. Nate had the strong desire to do something to punctuate this moment. It would be so easy to pull Wade across the seat and kiss him. But he wasn't going to make the first move in that regard.

Wade asked, "So are you going to walk me to the door like a proper gentleman?"

"Absolutely," Nate said as he opened his door. He met Wade on the other side of the truck and the two of them walked. They didn't talk much, but there was barely a breath between them.

At the door, Wade looked at him, his eyes shining in the porch light. "I would… I want… Would you—Shit! I'm all tongue-tied." He laughed nervously, and said, "Do you want to do this again? I mean, maybe not a baseball game, but like you and me hanging out in a manner vaguely resembling a date?"

Nate tried to fight the grin and keep his face neutral hearing his own words come back his direction. It didn't work because he was smiling like an idiot. "I would like that."

"When are you going to be back again?" Wade asked, his voice almost giddy. "Next weekend?"

"I have my daughter next weekend," Nate said. He expected disappointment; the few people he'd dated since the divorce were never very understanding about Hope. But Wade just nodded, taking in the information without a blink of impatience. Nate continued, "I usually have a mid-week layover here, only about 12 hours or so, and I don't know what time it will be, but if you'd like to get together then…"

"Sounds good to me," Wade said without hesitation. "Whenever works for you. I'm flexible like that."

Nate nodded, his hand flexing at his side a moment before he held out his hand to Wade. Handshake. That's a proper parting gesture, right? Wade took it, but Nate didn't expect Wade to pull him into a hug. Suddenly, Nate forgot how he was supposed to behave when being hugged. It was unexpected to say the least, and Nate knew he made it more awkward than necessary, but he finally remembered to participate. Hope always said he was an awkward hugger. The moment his arm wrapped around Wade's waist, he could feel the tension leaving Wade. It relaxed him a little bit, too.

"You are solid as a rock," Wade said gleefully as he rested his head against Nate's shoulder. Nate tried to not laugh. Wade squeezed Nate's right upper arm and he let out a low whistle. "We're going to have to work out together some time, because I need to know what you do to get this ripped."

Nate chuckled to himself as his face warmed. It had been a while since someone complimented his physique. He wasn't a vain man, but it was still nice to hear. He was also wondering how long he was supposed to hug someone. He said, "I would not be opposed to that idea."

Wade cleared his throat and straightened, and gave his upper arms—both flesh and prosthetic—a squeeze before stepping back and saying, "Thank you. For tonight. It was good, and I know this goes against protocols and whatever, but I kind of can't wait to see you again. Now, I'm going to go inside because if I don't, I'm going to end up doing something I shouldn't."

While he knew that there was very little Wade could do that he would not approve of, Nate knew that Wade needed time. And after this, Nate knew that he would give him all the time he needed for as long as he needed.

Nate Summers was smitten. He smiled. "Goodnight, Wade."

"Goodnight, Nate," Wade said as he stepped inside.

Nate walked back to his truck feeling like he could almost fly.

Once inside, Wade leaned against the door with a dopey smile on his face. He felt like he was in orbit. He couldn't explain it and didn't want to try. His face was burning like he had a fever. He hadn't felt like this since… well, since Ness.

For once, that didn't hurt.