Disclaimer: Stan, darling. Despite the fact of you being more than twice my age, and our relationship to date having been more than a little rocky, I think you and I get along splendidly for all our differences, and should seal our bond with a little gift. What do you say to the rights to X-Men: Evolution, and I'll bake you some brownies?

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to The BlueFoxtrot A Samba. You'll know why as soon as you read it. It's finally here. Enjoy.


Chapter 6: The Restaurant


Paintsville, Kentucky

"This town is…"

Rogue stared at the tight arrangement of shops strung along the street. "Tiny."

She stepped off of the motorcycle, smirking a little as dust settled on her boot-tops.

"Okay, so first order of business, find someplace to eat." She took off, striding down the sidewalk like she owned the town.


"Chinese…burgers… ah! Mexican!"

Stepping into the coolness of the restaurant, Rogue inhaled the scent of spicy burritos and salsa and smiled contentedly.

Marco… or Palo… or… somebody led her to a table near the back and she collapsed into the booth with a sigh of relief. Ordering an iced tea, she picked up the menu, determined to find something cheap and spicy.

Her occupation with the plastic covered cardstock was probably why she didn't see him coming until it was too late.

"Hiya!"

Her head shot up, and her mouth dropped open. Sitting across the table from her was a man, dressed in a red and black jumpsuit, face covered with a mask. Weapons were strapped across every available inch of his body.

"'Sup."

Rogue felt her eyes bug.


"Wade Wilson, that's me. 'M from…" he paused, seemingly trying to recall his origin. "Canada! Yeah, I'm from Canada. Or at least, I was most recently. Which I can't remember."

"Ah know someone from Canada," Rogue offered, strangely at ease with this eccentric stranger who had decided to seat himself at her table. He raised an eyebrow. "Really? What's he like?"

"Well…" Rogue considered what she should tell this Wade Wilson, who walked into Mexican restaurants armed to the teeth without anybody batting an eye. "He's… grumpy. And short. And snarl-y?"

He snorted. "Sounds like a friend of mine. We were in a project together. Mutant project. Jimmy and me were the bestest of friends."

"You're a mutant?"

He grinned. "Duh! I'm all…" he waved a hand vaguely. "Awesome and stuff. I heal. And… kill things."

Rogue nodded uncertainly.

Marco… somebody came back, a little startled to find another person at the table. "Lo siento. I did not know you were expecting someone…" he trailed off, glancing curiously at Wade. The man glared at him. Marco quailed. "Are you ready to order?"

"Chimichangas," Wade said authoritatively. "Three of them. And a Pepsi."

Marco nodded, his hand shaking a little as he wrote down the order. Turning to Rogue he said, "And you, senorita?"

"Oh, one of the chimichangas is for her," Wade said. "You didn't think I was gonna eat all of those myself, did you? Well, I coulda, but did you really think I had so little manners as to do that?"

Marco shook his head quickly. "No, no, senor. They will be ready as soon as possible." He scurried away, leaving Rogue shaking her head bemusedly at the masked man. "What if Ah don' like chimichangas?" she asked teasingly. The look he gave her bordered on horror. "What? How can you not like chimichangas? Of course you like chimichangas! You- you're yankin' my chain."

She laughed. "Yeah."

With a sigh of relief, he wiped imaginary sweat from his forehead. "Whew. Had me worried there. I thought- NINJA!"

Before Rogue could manage more than a confused, "The heck?" Wade had jumped on top of the table and whipped out a pair of katanas that had previously been safely strapped to his back. He pointed them menacingly at the stunned and terrified young man bearing a heavy tray laden with chimichangas and Pepsi.

Shocked patrons and staff all stared at the obviously crazy man on the table. Marco turned wide eyes to Rogue in an obvious attempt to make her stop the loco hombre from murdering him. Wade continued to brandish his katanas wildly. Unsure of what to do, the Southerner cleared her throat.

"Uh, Wade? That's…" she flinched as he whirled a katana in her direction. "That's a waiter. He's bringin' the chimichangas."

Magically, as if the mention of that particular food flipped a switch somewhere inside, Wade lowered the blades and jumped down off the table. "Chimichangas? Well, why didn't ya say so!" he said jovially.

"Probably 'cause you were wavin' really big swords in his face," Rogue grumbled under her breath.

"Eh? What's that?"

"Nothin'."


"So," Wade said as they ate. "What's your mutation?"

Rogue choked on her Mexican flavored rice and reached for her tea, taking a huge gulp. Once she could breathe again, she croaked, "What?"

"Your mutation." Wade looked up. "What is it?"

She stared at him. "How did ya know Ah was a mutant?"

"Smelled it on ya," he said, not missing a beat. Her mouth opened silently. "You… you smelled… no. No, you're just messing with me. Right?" she turned her suddenly anxious gaze on him.

He held her green eyes with his own for a minute before giggling. "Yeah… hahaha, yeah, I'm just messing with ya!" He then proceeded to fall into a laughing fit that caused more than a few customers to turn and stare at the odd pair. Rogue shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

Abruptly, Wade sat up straight and fixed her with a serious stare. "Your mutation? What is it? You didn't bat an eye when I told you I was a mutant, hence you spend a lot of time around mutants. You weren't at all perturbed when I got out the katanas-"

"Ah wouldn' say that exactly," Rogue murmured.

Ignoring her interruption, he continued, "-So you clearly think you have the ability to take me out if I started causing some serious damage. Untrue, obviously, but still. You're a mutant. Spill."

It occurred to her that telling random mutant men in masks who walked around literally covered in weapons all about herself was perhaps not the most intelligent thing she could do. But the whole day had been sufficiently strange enough for her to ignore Scott's warning voice in her head and the weird fact that Logan's psyche was still asleep, and bare her heart to this oddly endearing lunatic.


"Love," Wade commented when she had finished telling him about her mutation, Remy, Mystique, Remy, Apocalypse, Remy, her control issues, Remy, and her relationship and trust problems. And Remy.

"Ah know," she groaned, dropping her head onto her crossed arms on the table top. Raising his glass of soda sympathetically, he patted her on the shoulder and sighed.

"Ya know, the way I see it, love is crazy."

She peeked under her arm to see if he was joking. Realizing that he was completely serious, she lifted her head. "O-kay."

He nodded vigorously. "Uh-huh. See me an' my girl, we're tight. We're cool. We are A-Okay. But sometimes…" he trailed off. Rogue waited patiently. After a second, he shook himself. "Sometimes, I wish I could be better for her you know? I know I should do better-impossible right? Better than this?-but I just can't help myself. I have to take care of things, and then she's all alone. But I always come back, no matter how mad she is, and how wacked out her thinking process gets. Love is crazy, Roguey. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise." He downed his Pepsi in one gulp.

A little stunned, and slightly bemused, Rogue simply nodded as though what he'd said made perfect sense-and in a way, it did-and sipped her own iced tea.


Wade stood up and stretched. Rogue cringed as the movement jarred the various explosives and firearms decorating his person, but relaxed as everything settled properly once more. He held out his hand for her, and after eyeing it suspiciously for a minute, she took it and allowed him to pull her to her feet. She dropped enough money to pay for her own meal on the table. He offered her his arm and she took it. Maybe they could leave without too much fuss.

Unfortunately, Wade decided to choose that time to start singing "Just You Wait, Henry Higgins" from "My Fair Lady." The entire restaurant turned to stare at them. Again.

Resigned to a fate she knew there was no escaping from, Rogue allowed the crazy mutant to escort her in between the tables to the front. Ignoring the cries of "Senorita, you haven't paid!" behind her, she strolled out the swinging doors and into the bright sunshine. They'd find the money on the table eventually, and her conscious was clear. As for Wade… she checked on him from the corner of her eye. He might not have paid, but she wasn't entirely sure he really had much of a conscious, so she wasn't too worried about it.

He rather gallantly walked her to her motorcycle, and held the handlebars as she mounted.

"Roguey…" he caught her hand. Startled, her head shot up from where she'd been checking the gas. His brown eyes stared into hers earnestly. "It would never have worked between us, darling." He released her and stepped back, grinning at her astonished expression. Reaching for her clutch, he twisted it. "And by the way," he said, wiggling his eyebrows and leaning close. "Nice boots." He released the clutch and the bike jumped forward a little. Rogue yelped, but recovered quickly and steadied the bike, taking off down the road and not looking back. Wade chuckled to himself and turned back to the restaurant, his eyes narrowing dramatically.

"Now. To deal with that ninja…"


A/N: Blue, I hope to goodness Wade is up to your standards. I really, really do. I'm worried 'cause there were no Bea Arthur references, but I just didn't know how to handle Bea Arthur at the time.

Yes, Wade just quoted Jack Sparrow. What? He's awesome!

Additional, Non-Spoiler Disclaimer: I do not own "My Fair Lady."

I've been to Paintsville. It's nothing like I described it.

Ash... Indy?

*sounds of air being whipped around and chairs being thrown pierces the silence*

Right, I'll just... leave you two to it then.

Next Chapter: Where there's smoke there's fire, and where there's fire… well. Using your head too much can hurt, and when the stress gets to be too much, it's best to just let it all out.