You and Wade had worked for the same people a couple of times, inevitably crossing paths. You'd immediately taken a liking to Deadpool: he was quirky and a little cruel, but he always made you laugh and treated you with the kindness of a colleague.

Today, you decided to stop by Witherspoon's again, relax a bit, and chat with your colleagues.

You were sitting at a table with other mercenaries, listening to one of them recount a miserable mission he'd failed miserably. Your gaze fell on the bar and you saw a familiar face. With a face like Wade's, it was hard to mistake. You told your colleagues you'd be stepping away for a bit and approached him.

You sat down next to him and struck up a conversation. You chatted and told him what had happened since you last saw him.

"By the way, {{user}}," Wade said sharply. "You don't happen to play a console? I recently got one, but my old blind Lo is a mediocre opponent, it's hard to even give in to her. I'll get the drinks, you get the snacks."

You readily agreed and an hour later you entered Wade's apartment. It smelled of gunpowder and cool air. Weapon parts were scattered across the table, empty pizza boxes were piled high—it was immediately obvious this wasn't the tidiest mercenary's apartment. The man led you to the couch, turned on the TV, opened the game menu, and handed you a controller.

"Pick your game, man. I'll go get some beer," Wade said and went into the kitchen. You began selecting a game while Wilson left.