And now, the finale chapter of Girl Talk!

Thanks, guys, for sticking with me through the lack of updates. I really do hope you enjoy this conclusion. Thanks for all the reviews and the favorites. I sincerely appreciate it.

Zany: Felicia is the Black Cat, a friend of Spider-Man. I figure Remy may have made a few thieving friends during his years of misbehaving. Really, I'm just stocking up on some well placed and fun cameos for Thigh High Boots.

JosephineX: No problem :)

CurrentlyIncognito: I wouldn't say Nick was going to "die" per se….

And I keep forgetting to mention this. Guys. LaylaYuy is writing a story that I can't get enough of called "Only Trying To Help." Romy fun there. I totally suggest you check it out if you got time because I am loving it.

And onward to the finale chapter!


Christine sighed happily as she stepped out of her shower.

It had been about a week since her very strange encounter with the X-Men and her life was once again normal. While she missed the oddball group of men, she was happy to be living a peaceful, gunshot free life once more.

She was certain all would remain relatively calm from that moment on.

Drying off, she pulled on a bathrobe and stepped out her bathroom. She hummed to herself, thinking about making some tea and reading a book before she retired for the night.

It was rather nice to return to peace and quiet.

Smiling to herself, Christine padded barefoot to her bedroom. She started to untie her robe, preparing to enjoy her nudity before pulling on her pajamas.

But when she opened the door and found Remy LeBeau half in and half out of her window, for a moment, she was almost not surprised.


She nearly screamed, but stopped herself. She instead settled for nearly jumping out of her skin, her heart damn near beating out of her chest and retying her robe again before Remy could see anything. Putting a hand over her heart, she leaned heavily on the doorframe. Remy just watched hers, grinning.

"Bonjour, Cherie."

She felt a migraine coming on. "What are you doing here? How do you know where I live?"

He opened his mouth to answer but she shook her head, silencing him.

"Actually," she amended, "I don't want to know the answer to that last question."

Remy's smirk only grew.

"What are you doing here?"

"Me and the boys got talkin' and we realized that as nice as you were to us, we neglected to return the favor." He nodded at her bed. She looked over, only just noticing the rather large package sitting there, wrapped up nice in neat in red paper with a black bow. "Consider this our way of sayin' thanks."

Numbly, Christine wandered over to her bed. She eyed the package skeptically, half expecting Wade or something to pop out and finally scare her to death. But nothing happened. Tentatively, she tugged at the bow.

"What's inside?" she wanted to know, turning back toward Remy. But the thief was already almost gone.

"Abiento," he whispered, blowing a kiss before disappearing completely.

Christine hurried over to the window, poking her head out. He was nowhere to be seen, which was odd, what with her living on the third floor and whatnot. Sighing heavily, she pulled her head back in and went back to look at the package.

She pulled off the bow and carelessly tore the red wrapping paper off. Pulling it open, she was surprised to find a number of items inside. She reached inside and pulled out the first thing her hand touched.

A small package of expensive looking, scented candles. Grinning, she looked at the card that was attached.

To help you set the mood—Scott

She lifted the candles to her nose and inhaled. Jasmine. She mentally praised Scott's taste in candles. Sweet but vaguely sensual. Setting the candles aside, she pulled out something small and metallic at the bottom of the box. Lifting it closer, she realized it was the lighter she had seen John fiddling with. It was engraved with his initials. There was a small card taped to it.

To help you start the fire—John

She assumed it was for the candles and set it down. She went back to the package, pulling out something wrapped up in pink tissue paper. It too had a note attached to it.

To help with your seduction—Remy

Confused, Christine tore past the wrapping paper.

"Oh my god!" she gasped, her cheeks going up in flames. She threw the scandalous, lacey bit of red onto the bed as if it may harm her. She stared at it, afraid, intrigued and curious as to how Remy knew her size.

She decided it was best if she didn't think about it too much.

Still scandalized, she looked at the last thing in the package. A single envelope. Now afraid of what she may find, Christine lifted it up. Her name was scrawled on the front. Tearing it open, she pulled out a sheet a paper. There was only one line, written in serious black ink but surprisingly neat handwriting.

Your tip—Logan

Confused, she looked back in the envelope. There was a check tucked inside. She pulled it out and looked at the amount she had been tipped.

And then she damn near fainted.

Legs shaking, she dropped down so she was sitting on her bed. She looked at the check again, making sure she was seeing as many zeroes as she thought.

She was.

"Oh my god," she breathed, feeling a little dizzy. She set the check down on top of the lingerie, trying to pull her thoughts together.

What the hell did all these gifts mean? Candles for the mood. A lighter to light said candles. Lingerie for seduction.

Christine's eyebrows pulled together and she began to piece it together. They were returning the favor…candles…lingerie…. And where was Wade's gift?

And then it all clicked. Christine's eyes closed as she groaned. "Oh no…."

When some rapped gently on her door, she couldn't say she was all that surprised. With a heavy sigh, she got to her feet and headed for the front door. Drawing in one last deep breath, she unlocked the door and swung it open.

Nick, all six-feet-four-inches of him stood on the other side. He was dressed formally, a black dress shirt and a red tie. His vaguely long auburn hair, which she was accustomed to seeing hanging around his ears and in his face was combed back. He held a rose in his hand.

And he looked absolutely petrified.

"Hi, Nick," she said, sounding as if she had been expecting him.

He was visibly shaking in fear. "Hi, Chris." He stopped shaking long enough to take in her fresh out of the shower appearance. He lifted an eyebrow at her. "You look…nice."

Once again, she blushed under his roaming eyes. She pulled the bathrobe around her tighter. "Hehe…thanks."

And he smiled at her. And her heart did this funny little…flippy thing in her chest and she couldn't think of something to say. Which is why it was both a blessing and a curse when Wade popped his head out from behind Nick's massive body.

"Hi, Chrissy!" he greeted cheerfully.

She forced her eyes off Nick. "Hi, Wade."

He came so he was standing beside Nick. It was then she saw that he had a large, frightening looking gun pointed at Nick. She should have been upset. Or shocked. Or angry. Or frightened for him.

But at this point, she wasn't even surprised.

"You know him?" Nick asked.

She just gave him a look, hoping he could see the apology in her blue eyes. She looked back at Wade.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

"You know," the mercenary began conversationally, "it really wasn't all that hard to find this guy's home address. So I decided to drop in and pay him a little visit. Now what was hard was getting this big fella to cooperate. He put up quite the fight." He playfully swatted Nick with his gun. Nick flinched away. "But people are always willing to cooperate when you pull a gun on them."

Christine nodded. "I imagine so."

"So I told him to get dressed in his best finery—"

"He undressed me!" Nick chimed in.

"—and brought him over here for you, my darling love dove."

"I feel violated," the young man mumbled under his breath.

Christine shot him another sympathetic look.

"Now, darling," Wade went on, "I've brought you your man. From this point on, it's up to you to work it."

"But, Wade, I—"


"Okay! Okay! Jeez…."

"Good." He directed his attention back to Nick. He pressed the gun deeper into his back. "And if you mess this up," he hissed in a voice that was both menacing and high pitched, "I swear I will hunt you down and spell out my name with your intestines. Do. Not. Hurt. Her."

If it weren't for the fact that he was threatening her potential paramour's life, Christine would have found Wade's protectiveness sweet.

With one last glare, Wade shoved Nick into her apartment. Into her arms. She was surprised to find his hands on her hips, hers on his chest. Their eyes locked for a moment before a whistle caught there attention. They both turned to look back at Wade.

He blew Christine a kiss. "If he messes this up, call me sugar dumplin'."

She just blinked at him. "Um…."

Satisfied with a job well done, Wade turned on his heel and started to march out of the apartment complex. He was almost at the first flight of stairs when he heard his name being called. He turned and found Christine standing just outside her bedroom, looking at him with…it looked like there was sadness in her eyes.

"What about you?" she asked softly.

He did not need her to elaborate; he knew she was enquiring about his love life. He simply shook his head.

"I've got someone waiting for me at home," he told her, before he descended down the stairs.

Sighing, the red head returned to her apartment, closing and locking the door behind her. She looked up at the large man standing in her living room, noticing how he was scratching his ear incessantly.

"Will you get this thing off me?" he asked, pointing at a tag that had been wrapped around his ear. "That Deadpool guy put it on and it's too tight for me to get it off."

Enjoying the thought of being close to him, Christine stood tip toe and, after a few moment, managed to get the tag off of his ear. She then noticed that there was something written on it.

To sugar lips,

Here's your returned favor. With hugs and chainsaws-D. Pool


Wade Wilson carefully tucked away his many, many weapons before stripping out of his red and black uniform. He pulled on boxers and a t-shirt before he grabbed a beer and sat down on his couch. Getting comfortable with a beer and a sandwich, he reached for the remote and turned his TV on. As expected, a familiar theme song began playing.

…and the card attached would say "Thank you for being a friend." Thank you for being a friend….

It would be another night of a watching Golden Girls reruns.

He sighed as a single tear trickled down his scarred face. On screen, the only woman he ever truly loved sashayed in front of the live studio audience.

Just another night spent with beer, sandwiches, and his beloved Bea Arthur, truly, the most beautiful woman to have ever walked the earth.

And he didn't want to spend it any other way.

The end


For anyone left confused as to why Wade is so content with watching the Golden Girls, it's because he had a serious thing for one of the main characters on the show, Bea Arthur, who passed in 2009. And if you think I am exaggerating this passion for the older woman, hop on Google and search for "Deadpool and Bea Arthur." It's both heartwarming and disturbing.


Well, the end. Huh. I can't believe it. I hope you guys at least enjoyed this fluffy bit of nothing I wrote. I guess it's time to start working on a bigger project.

Until we meet again….