Past, Present, Future - Cable, Deadpool 2

5.

At seven-thirty that night she found herself on the other side of town. The area was a little run-down - Weasel was right this was definitely a place to lay low. A distant siren droned through the night. She located the hotel, matching the name on the blinking neon sign to the one written on the square of paper.

There was no one at the front desk, however, there was a little bell you could ring, leaving her to assume - and hope - that there was someone working there, they were just in the back and the bell would summon them.

"Oh, yeah, this isn't sketchy, not at all," she mumbled, making her way down the dimly lit hall. The elevator creaked on its way up seven floors, and it rumbled to a stop, the doors not even opening all the way and she having to push them open to get out. The hall of seventh-floor rooms was also very dimly lit, and about mid-way down the lights flickered. Nina suppressed a shudder.

This was probably a terrible idea. All the signs were blaring like an alarm in her head: DON'T DO IT!

But she wanted to see what this was all about, and she didn't want Weasel to suffer should she not go through with this, especially since she told him she would sort it out.

She approached the door, room 703, listening for a moment and hesitating before knocking softly on the door, her gloved fingers rapping on its surface.

"Room service." She waited a few moments. Nothing. She knocked again. "Housekeeping?"

There was a moment of silence before she heard what sounded like heavy footsteps approaching. The occupant must have confirmed it was her through the door's peephole for the door opened moments later, just a crack.

"Always early," a deep, quiet voice chuckled. "You can come in."

The speaker's broad figure was already retreating back into the shadows and dimness of the room, so she didn't get a good look at him. "Close and lock the door behind you," he requested.

Nina hovered in the doorway. The room was lit only by a single bedside lamp, and the minimal light slipping through the closed blinds. Here goes... Finally, she stepped into the room, shutting and locking the door as requested.

She took in her surroundings. "Hmmm, looks like you might be in need of some housekeeping..."

Empty beer cans littered the floor - she didn't notice them at first until one crunched beneath her boot and she kicked it aside. One that looked full sat on the beside table, a small teddy bear sitting next to it. The toy seemed strikingly out of place, and half of it was dirty and torn.

"Do you sleep on the floor?" she questioned after a moment of uncomfortably shifting her weight from one foot to the other, nodding to the bed that was covered in an array of guns.

He chuckled. "You can remove your scarf and hood, no need to hide here - Nina."

Alright, so he knew her by her name, not just her X-Men name, Night Witch. Raven had come up with it back in the '60s.

"I wasn't hiding, I was battle-ready." Again, she obliged, and removed her hood and the scarf that covered her nose and mouth. She then held up the note. "I got your note from Weasel-"

"Huh, 'Weasel'. Yeah, that's a fitting name." He sat on the edge of the bed, his back facing her, and began piecing the guns together like an intricate puzzle. He had obviously done this before, because he worked quickly and efficiently.

"Hey, don't be mean. I don't appreciate it that you threatened my friend. If you wanted to set up a meeting, why didn't you just come to the mansion and see me yourself?"