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Library [03/31]

Sam was very glad to have his nice, quiet library back, especially since it meant no one was trying to take over the island again. Of course, the down side to things being calm was that Sam found himself at a loss as to what to do with his time, and while he wasn't entirely certain, he had a feeling that his day today would be split between playing The Sims and glaring in the direction of Special Collections.

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If you wish to talk to the one with good hair.

Henry, who probably could use a haircut, had totally been in his office all day, industrially cataloging books.

... not books about haircuts.

Suuuuure he didn't.

"So, my lil' librarian buddy," Deadpool said without announcing his presence. Because he was a dick.

Yeah, way to make Henry jump a foot, Deadpool. Nice.

"Vice Principal," he greeted suspiciously, once he'd recovered. "Here to reclaim our guest from my Special Collections?"

He could hope.

Edited 2010-04-01 00:02 (UTC)

"Nah, his girlfriend is in there. Tried to kill me once," He said cheerfully. "But that's not whey I'm here."

Henry batted his eyelashes archly. "And to what do I owe the honor of your presence?"

"You, my man. Are just the person I need to help start a sports team." No he wasn't, but shhhh.

"Sports." Henry leaned back in his chair. He was an okay natural athlete, but not really a team sports guy. "What sport do you have in mind?"

"I'm thinkin' softball. Something for us teachers to bond over."

A beat.

"And beer."

"I haven't played that since ... college. Maybe before," Henry said, thinking it thorough. "But if there's beer..."

He rubbed the scruff on his chin. "You aren't going to make me try to coach anybody, are you?"

Deadpool moved around to try putting an arm over Henry's shoulder. "No, no, no--yes. Yes I am."

Henry stiffened, but didn't pull away. "Coaching," he echoed. "I suppose it doesn't matter at all that there's a decent chance that I might vanish into thin air if a ball comes flying at my head."

It was only true, and somehow he suspected it wasn't the weirdest thing Deadpool had even heard that day.

"...Mutant? Cosmic rays? Crazy, poorly described powers?"

"Time traveler. Among other things, it's my body's version of a panic attack," Henry briefly explained. "... usually it takes a little more than a softball to set it off, but usually I'm not being asked to coach anything."

Deadpool slapped him on the back. "It'll be fun!"

For certain definitions of fun, maybe.

"Tell me where to be when," he requested wearily.

"Knew ya'd join in! Saturday work for ya?"

"I can make it happen."

Look, it was that or double-check his taxes.

"You're a peach," Deadpool replied. "Try not to disappear before theeeen."

"Never happens when I want it to," Henry said dismissively. "See you Saturday."

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