It's the update that you thought was never coming!

I know I've been gone for awhile. All I can say is that life has been not so kind to me lately. But, recently, things have finally slowed down enough for me to return my writing. And I am so very glad to be back because I missed you all dearly.

I can't promise I won't disappear again, but I can promise to try and not go so long between updates.

So, without further ado, the newest chapter of Girl Talk.

P.S.—I missed y'all like crazy.

XXXXX

"Oh my god."

"Mon Dieu."

"Sweet baby Jesus."

"This is…."

"Great googly moogly."

Christine smiled proudly. "I guess that means you like them?"

Logan lifted his thunderstruck eyes to hers. "This literally is the best chimichanga I have ever tasted in my life." He leveled his gaze with the waitress's. "And I've been alive for a long time, bub."

"I'm glad you like it. What about you, Mr. Deadpool sir?"

When Wade did not answer immediately, Christine turned toward him. She was surprised to see him looking at his cell phone, his chimichanga sitting in front of him forgotten.

"Uh, Wade?"

He didn't look up from his phone. "Yes, sugar lips?"

Christine paused, trying to determine how she felt about the endearment. She decided it was best not to think about it too much.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Rereading this story on my phone. It's been so long since it was updated, I've lost track of what was happening," he answered simply.

The red head was beginning to wonder why she even bothered asking questions, knowing he would say something like that.

"Huh?"

He did not respond for a moment, his masked eyes scanning his cell phone before he snapped it shut and jumped to his feet. He pointed a gun to the ceiling.

"Right! Now I remember!"

With that, he shot a hole through the ceiling before pointing the gun at Scott. He shot, the bullet once again missing his face by a hair. Scott squealed through his mouthful of chimichanga, duking under the table.

Christine observed all of this with a raised eyebrow. "Was all of that really necessary, Wade?"

He looked at her, the gun, and then her again. In a voice so small, some of Christine's agitation couldn't help but ebb, he answered, "Yes…."

She was going to have the worst migraine before this day was over. "Wade?"

"Yes, pumpkin?"

"How's your chimichanga?"

He squealed with glee, throwing the gun in Remy's general direction. Before she could comprehend what had happened, Christine found herself in Wade's constricting embrace. His arms tightened around her in what had to have been the most uncomfortable bear hug of her life. Not that he seemed to notice. He was far too busy swinging her around in his arms excitedly.

"Oh, Chrissy, they are fabulous! I knew you had it in you."

"…can't…breathe…."

"Shhh…" He stroked her hair. "Don't speak. It'll ruin the moment."

She coughed, the last of her air abandoning her lungs. Wade smiled into her hair.

"Yes…that's perfect."

"Wilson, put the kid down," Logan barked, chomping down on his own chimichanga. "She's turning blue."

Christine was released. She immediately gasped, trying to get as much air into her lungs as possible. Wade looked down at her with an affectionate smile.

"You leave me breathless too, darling," he told her, patting her shoulder.

She glared at him, before returning to her seat next to Logan. Smoothing her hair down and drawing in a deep breath, she looked at the men around the table and recalled their twisted love lives. Her lips twisted in a wry smile.

"So," she began, folding her hands in front of her. "About your women…."

"Before we go on," Remy interrupted, "I would jus' like to point out that Wolvie—"

"Don't call me Wolvie."

"—left out a chunk of his love life."

Logan glared over at the Cajun. "What the hell are you talkin' 'bout, Gumbo?"

Remy shrugged casually. "Oh, nothin'. It's jus' Remy couldn' help but notice the way you been givin' ol' Stormy the eyes lately."

"Bullshit," Logan snapped.

"Language," Christine chimed in patiently.

"Actually," Scott slurred, tilting his head in thought, "now that you mention it, I have noticed you looking at Storm a little closely lately."

"I have not," Logan denied, but color rose in his cheeks. To everyone's utter delight, Logan was blushing.

John laughed, clapping his hands together. "Don't be ashamed, Badger. That weather witch is damn sexy."

"Don't talk about her like that!" the X-Man snapped, his eyes furious.

Christine and Deadpool placed a hand over their hearts. "Awww..."

Logan realized how his outburst seemed to incriminate him and quickly settled down, staring intently at his bottle of Jack. The color in his cheeks only grew more prominent. "Shut up," he grumbled.

"I think it's sweet," Christine assured him. He only grunted as a response. Rolling her eyes, she returned her attention to the other men in the room. "Okay, look. Here's what I think you all need to do."

She pointed a finger at John.

"Clearly, your Wanda is not the kind of girl who will swoon over flowers and chocolates and stuff. And from what you said, it sounds like you two are a little crazy together. So I think what you need to do is let your feelings be known in a way that is unique to you that Wanda will appreciate."

John pouted. "Like what?"

"I don't know." She shrugged. "Destroy a building in her name or something. Not that I'm advocating the destruction of public property," she hastily added, "but let her know that you understand she's chaotic and that's just the thing you love about her. And now you."

She pointed at Remy.

"You said your Rogue knows how you feel but not to what extent."

"Oui."

"Not that you are particularly nice to begin with, but I really think it's time you stop playing nice with her and make sure she knows exactly how you feel. Make the grand gesture, Remy. And please do so without tying her up and forcing her across state lines. Or blowing anything up."

He grinned at her. "No promises, Cherie."

"And Scott." She looked at the heavily intoxicated X-Man. "Look, you and Jean have clearly been through a lot. You don't seem particularly….likable—"

"Thank you!" Remy exclaimed in the background. He was ignored.

"—but Jean has picked to stay with you. So grow a pair and tell her you love her. And you."

She swung around to face Logan again. He growled at her.

"Err..." She hesitated. "Look: I'm not saying you have a crush on this Storm chick."

"He does," Scott and Remy said in unison.

"But if you do—hypothetically—then I don't think there's any harm in baby steps. There's no need to propose marriage or anything. I understand that with your..erm, history, you might be a little reluctant. But telling her she looks pretty might be a nice start, ya know?"

He didn't say anything. He continued to stare broodingly at his drink but Christine was pleased to see that his expression did soften ever so slightly. Satisfied that she had gotten to him just a little, she directed her attention towards Wade.

"And as for you, I think…." The words died on her lips. "Wait. Did you even tell us about your love life?"

Before she could receive an answer, the little restaurant began to shake violently. Everyone looked up, surprise decorating their features. It sounded as if a plane was landing not too far from where they stood. She looked at the X-Men in the room.

"I don't suppose any of you informed your teammates that everything was under control and that there was no need for back up." She lifted an eyebrow. "Did you?"

"Oh…."

'Um…."

"Opps."

Christine sighed. "Opps, indeed."

Without saying another word, the red head picked up her tray and got to work on cleaning the table off. She did not even look up or flinch when it sounded like an entire wall was blasted down and a parade of people stampeded into the room.

Honestly, she had been around so many random acts of violence, she may forever be immune.

Eventually though, she turned around and found what appeared to be all the X-Men gathered around staring at the group of heroes and villains eating chimichangas together and consuming copious amounts of alcohol. Most were standing in a position indicating they were ready for battle, but all their facial expressions were absolutely perplexed.

Well, at least they knew how she had felt all day.

Christine set her tray down and calmly walked over to where the X-Men stood. When she was close enough, she offered them her most dazzling smile.

"Hi, can I interest you in a table?"

The X-Men looked at each other, befuddled. Eventually, their gaze landed on her once more.

She lifted a menu. "How many?"

XXXXX

Not surprisingly, the X-Men did not stick around to eat.

They did however let their teammates box the remains of their chimichangas.

Christine watched with amusement as Logan, Remy, and Scott were fussed at for being so reckless. She couldn't help but note that the people fussing were Storm, Rogue, and Jean. She had no way to know for sure that it was them, but their interactions with the boys made it quite clear.

Eventually, she stepped in and explained all was well and there was no reason to be angry. She also made sure to point out that while Wade went about acquiring his chimichanga the wrong way, he meant no harm and there was no reason to attempt to apprehend him further. Though annoyed, the X-Men accepted their answer and prepared to drag their teammates, and John and Wade, home. Christine was sure that the whole ride home for Remy, Logan, and Scott would be one long, painful tongue lashing.

Christine happily escorted her new friends to the jet the X-Men arrived in. One by one, the heroes boarded. When it was only her drunken, girl talking companions left, she was surprised to feel a twinge of sadness.

"Well," she began, scuffing her shoes on the ground. "This was weird."

"Yup."

"Aye."

"Oui."

"Uh-huh," Scott slurred.

Wade just nodded.

"But it was kinda fun," she added after a moment. "As fun as being held hostage can be that is."

"Chrissy, sweetheart, how many times do I have to tell you that just because I refused to let you leave and had many weapons on my person does not mean that you were held hostage," Wade reminded her patiently.

She rolled her eyes. "Right." She smiled sadly. "Well, you guys take care of yourself and uh…remember what I said about the girls."

They all cast a glance at Jean, Rogue, and Storm, who watched them intently.

"You guys could totally win those girls over, I'm sure of it."

They smiled. It was John that stepped forward and in a surprising act of tenderness, wrapped his arms around the waitress in a hug. Though startled at first, she softened and returned his embrace.

"Thanks, Sheila," he murmured before letting her go.

Scott quickly followed suit and hugged her too. When she was released, Remy took hold of her hand and bowed lavishly before bestowing a kiss on the back of her hand, winking at her.

She giggled.

Behind them, Rogue growled.

When Remy let her go, she was faced with Logan. They stared at each other curiously for a few moments, both aware that a hug was most definitely happening. Eventually though, he offered her the tiniest of smiles before ruffling her hair affectionately.

Normally, Christine did not like to have her hair mused, but for Logan, she simply laughed.

And then there was Wade.

She blinked up at him. "Well."

"I have a gift for you."

She was both excited and deeply terrified at the prospect. "Oh?"

"Yes."

He reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a dagger. On the handle, was the same little Deadpool symbol he had on his belt. He dropped the frightening looking weapon into her hands. Christine's eyes widened in fear.

"Wade, I do not feel comfortable—"

He silenced her with a finger over her lips. "Shhh. Don't speak. It'll ruin the moment."

She rolled her eyes, looking down at the deadly weapon in her hands and back at him.

"I know you are hot for me," Wade continued, "and I can't blame you. But it would never work out for us. Just know, I'll always have a place for you in my heart, Chrissy."

He dropped his hand, freeing her to speak. Rather than fight it, Christine managed to grin up at the man that she had come to fear and care for. Standing tip-toe, she pressed a kiss to his masked cheek.

"Thanks, Wade."

XXXXX

Christine waved at the departing X-Jet until it was only a black speck in the darkening sky. Maybe she was crazy or feeling the beginnings of Stockholm Syndrome, but she was miss the oddball group.

She liked to believe that they were friends of sorts.

As she headed back into the restaurant to gather her things so she could finally go home, she suddenly remembered something. Gasping, she spun around so that was facing the direction of the disappearing jet.

"HEY!" She waved the blade Wade gave her wildly. "You bastards didn't tip me!"