29 Chimera Court, Saturday Morning

[mouthy_merc]

There were cartoons of a vaguely frightening quality on and a massive bowl of Trix that Arashi refused to eat.

Oh yeah, it was safe to say that Deadpool was unaware of the imminent doom in humanoid form heading his way this morning.

"Oh, Bugs Bunny, when did you get so edgy?"

[[OOC: For the husband, sproglets and/or anyone who might visit!]]

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[spring-pool.livejournal.com]

Jean pushed against the door. And then the-- It is!

When it creaked open, she peeked inside. "Daddy?"

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Is he the same?

Terry pushed her sister forward to get a look at him. "Are you--?"

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...

"Not again!"

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"He is," Jean said, and her expression came damn close to grinning. "We knew we'd find you here."

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"No! No more future children with people I may or may not have ended up with via some wacky Las Vegas hijinks!" Deadpool told them both firmly, wagging a finger at them both. "Nuh-uh!"

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"Father won't let me go to Vegas." Jean strolled into the room, managing an awfully decent awkward despite how easily she'd entered. "Says it needs clean-up."

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Terry did no such thing, deciding to launch herself at him instead.

They had very conflicting genetics.

"We get to go to New York, though!"

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And now he was covered in small child.

Ugh.

"Father? NUH-UH! NO MORE MANBABIES."

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Jean... crept up a little closer, then sat down on the couch. And watched daddy get mauled.

It happened. "An' Westchester. But we've never been here before so Phoenix had to point the way and are you going to be mean like father, too?"

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It certainly seemed to.

"Phoenix?" Deadpool resisted the urge to scream in a manly shriek. Manly. Not high pitched at all. "Nate? Is Nate your Father?"

Oh, he was a dead man.

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Terry went for the cereal this time, scooting away and munching down. Not allowed to have so much sugar normally.

"Who else would Father be?"

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Jean crossed her arms. "You need to be nicer," she said, firmly. Flowers are plan B!

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Deadpool was trying to beat in his own head against the couch right now, he'd be nice in a moment.

"I am nice!"

Or not.

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"Not being nice now," Terry pointed out, grabbing the remote.

Where can we find some?

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"Nice to yourself, too," Jean continued, without being flummoxed. She got that tone from father. "Or Auntie Irene's gonna be all upset about the broken stuff again an' she yells a little hard."

Maybe beer first. Fridge! Get it!

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But he has the first season of the models on DVD!

With a small sigh, Terry slipped off the couch, headed for the kitchen.

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"Irene?" Deadpool shook his head for a moment. "Where are you going?"

He turned to the other one. "Where is she going?"

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"Beer," Jean said, nodding wisely. She smiled a tiny little smile up at Daddy.

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"Beer--" Deadpool just watched her closely. That was oddly comforting and kinda disturbing that they knew him that well. "So... what are your names?"

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"She's Terry," Jean replied, siddling a little closer to daddy on the couch. "I'm Jean. You and father always have beer and we're not allowed to know but he's not here, so."

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Terry came back with... more than enough beer and some chocolate milk and cake she found and some chicken and ice cream...

All a little wobbly as it was help with telekinesis.

"...he can't talk to us about it!"

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...

"No spilling on the carpet, Arashi will kill me." Frowning a little, he looked them both over again.

"You both look like him."

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Jean reached over with a tendril of her own telekinesis to snag some pie. "Bodyslide accident. Made father look really weird when we said."

She may have smirked a little.

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"Did he boggle?" Because that was important as he snagged a beer from the air.

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"He looked funny!" Terry confirmed cheerfully, setting each thing down on the coffee table slowly.

Good control.

Father always said she needed more of that.