They hadn't spoken yet.
In fact, the pair were almost completely unaware of each other's existence until some wise ass teen pulled the emergency stop.
They had been standing close together, a mere two feet apart in the cramped, crowded subway car. Peter had been the first to notice her. Her long blonde hair often left hanging down with no need or desire for styling. Her bottom lip often drawn up between her teeth as she flipped through a book.
He'd never been close enough to see what she was reading. But there was an air about her. Careless. Reckless. Maybe even a little sad. The young woman was about his age, and always alone.
His light blue eyes had just slipped over to her when the brakes began to screech. Her hand slipped from the rail as the train stopped abruptly and she would've hit the dirty floor if it hadn't been for a pair of strong arms catching her. Or rather, arm. Her dark eyes peeked open with a wince as she noticed a young man –a man she had seen countless times before on this very train- was holding her with one arm by the hip, preventing her from any harm.
Letting out a small, high pitched peep, her normally pale face went dark, dark red as she stood quickly. Having always considered herself an 'overly' tall woman, she was surprised when she, at six foot three, barely came up to his shoulder.
"Sorry." She giggled nervously, moving to pick her book and bag up off the floor. He said nothing, unable to find his voice, just fell down on his knee next to her to help her with her belongings. "Oh, you really don't have to-"
"I don't mind." Peter murmured, annoyed that he hadn't the confidence to try a line on her, or even look her in the face as he said it.
"Still." She reasoned, having barely heard him. "You saved my life."
His sharp, handsome features went a light pink. But he didn't correct her as he picked up her book. His gaze slipped up to hers as he handed it to her. "Knitting for Dummies?"
Her brow quirked at his Russian accent but she just shrugged, "Someone told me knitting can help a short attention span." Tucking it into her satchel with care, she smiled at him. It dropped slightly when a voice came over the loud speaker, telling them they would have to find an alternative mode of transportation that night. Her jade eyes went to her watch and she stood with a groan, "damn it." She offered him a hand with a smile, and he returned it softly at her lime green nail polish before grabbing it. "Look, thanks again man, but I gotta go."
His heart dropped, but he nodded regardless. "Oh. Goodbye."
"Bye." She gave his arm a playful slap before darting out of the subway car. His light eyes followed her plaid, orange and black, skirt until he could no longer see it, and with a sigh he made his way out of train station.
-Later-
It would only be hours before they saw each other again.
"No more heels for you, Quinn."
The blonde let out a scoff as she followed the young girl into the eatery. "Don't be jealous of my mad skills, Mindy."
Mindy rolled her eyes, looking up at her obscenely tall tutor. "It's not fair."
"Life's not f-" Stopping midsentence, 'Quinn' blushed at the sight of the man nursing a cup of coffee in the window. His head was down, his eyes intent as he stroked the page in front of him. It took her a moment to realize he was drawing, apparently with charcoal, and she only came back to reality when Mindy elbowed her.
"Hannah? Hannah, are you listening?"
Peter's head lifted, and he blinked in surprise at the sight of her. Her hand raised in a pleasant greeting. Not thinking, he mimicked the action. A look of amusement past over her soft features, and for a moment it baffled him. His eyes went to his fingers, and a hot flush came over his cheeks at the blackened tips(and palm) of his hand. Curling them into his palm, he looked back up to find her no longer paying attention to him. A bit hurt, but mostly relieved, Peter went back to his drawing. The woman had captured his thoughts, and the picture on the page reflected that. Her sad pout, but jesting eyes looked back at him and with a small smile made his way to his lips as he changed to a fresh sheet.
"Do you know him?" Mindy asked, her immature mind going all kinds of unwanted places, including into Hannah's.
The woman glared at her, "I saw that."
"I know, you were supposed to this time."
"What about the last time?"
The twelve year old psychic smirked at her, "that one was an accident."
A fine blonde brow rose. "Mhm. And no. He's not a friend."
"He helped you on the train today," The girl prodded, knowing how to upset her teacher.
"Stay the fuck out of my head, Min, you know I don't like that." I've had enough people fucking with my head, she thought. Her hazel eyes hardened at the girl across from her. Or rather her suddenly sad expression. "Damn it, Mindy!"
"I'm sorry!" The girl squeaked, blushing slightly, "It was an accident."
"Accident my ass." Hannah muttered under her breathe, dropping her bag onto a vacant table. "I got something that should help that little…drifting problem of yours, Melinda."
"Full name," the girl winced, "ouch."
Shrugging, she handed her the book, "shouldn't have pried then."
The girl's blue eyes read over the cover with a pointed glare. "Knitting? You want me to knit?"
"Yep." A pair of needles and dark pink wool were dropped onto the table in front of her as a waitress sauntered up to them.
"What can I get ya, dearies?"
Tea for the woman, hot chocolate for the girl. The middle aged waitress disappeared from the table quickly, not bothering to stick around for pointless pleasantries. With her disappearance came a short silence between them.
"I don't wanna knit."
"Well. I don't wanna have to worry about you drifting into my head when I'm trying to teach you math. All you need is a little focus." Hannah tapped her temple to emphasis her point.
Peter, on the other hand, was having a similar problem. He had felt the intrusion in his mind as well as the child had accidently let her abilities branch out. He suddenly felt uncomfortable in the small diner. Tucking his sketch book into his bag, the man slipped from sight without so much as a glance in her direction.
-The Next Day-
Hannah dropped into a seat on the train with little mind for those around her. She had, had a very…odd day. One of the children in the day care she worked at had fallen. Naturally the boy had started crying, and she had instinctively went to pick him up. But something felt…wrong. A tingle started in the joints of her fingers, and slowly turned into a pain as she continued to cuddle the stunned child.
She looked down at her hands and flexed her hands experimentally. Everything felt fine now. The subtle pain had been deep under the skin, in her bones it felt. With a quiet hum, she looked up as a familiar man stepped on board. He sat across from her.
With a playful smirk, she asked, "what? Did I scare you away yesterday?"
"No."
"I'm Hannah." She offered, sticking her hand out. She looked down at it with a nervous glint in her eyes, but it disappeared quickly.
He took her hand carefully, watching as her face shifted into an awkward wince. "Peter."
Letting out a hum, she turned his hand over as a dull ache began to rise in her digits. "Peter, huh?" Her other hand slid over it.
He shuddered at the cool contact of her skin. "That's right." He kept his eyes on her perplexed features as she continued to caress his hands. "Everything alright?"
"Peachy." Hannah said without second thought, pulling away from him to lean back in her seat. They both noticed the definite shake in her hand, but neither said anything as she slid a smile over her frightened expression. "How've you been, Pete?"
"Fine."
"Awesome." The ride fell back into silence a moment before she let out a huff and her head rolled back on the dirty window of the train. "So. You're an artist huh?"
Flushing a tad, the man nodded.
"That's cool. What do you like to draw?"
"People. Things I like, things I'd like to see." He bit his lip, wondering if he should ask his next question. Deciding to just go with it, the words escaped his lips faster than he would have liked, "would you like to see some of them?"
Her head lifted, tired light brown eyes sparkling at him with something he couldn't place. A slow smile stretched across her lips and she nodded. He stood with an almost gracefulness that surprised her. In her sitting position, he towered over her. His full six foot eight inches almost hit the roof of the subway car. But she didn't have time to marvel at his height for very long as he took a seat next to her. His light blue eyes met hers nervously as he pulled out his sketch book and handed it over to her.
She cocked a foot over her knee as she sat up a bit. Accepting the book with open palms, Hannah took care as she peeled the first page back. Her face remained stoic as she studied the image in front of her carefully.
It was of a landscape, a school it seemed. She held it a little closer to her eyes, taking in the fine details of it. "Are you ambidextrous?"
"Pardon?"
"Some of these lines were drawn with the right hand," Hannah said, not tearing her eyes from the page, "and others with the left."
He gaped at her a moment, "I am."
"Cool. You really have an eye for details." Her hazel eyes took in the various imperfections and realisms in the shrubbery that lined the front of the school. "What school is this?"
He faltered, "X-Xavier's."
"School for the gifted?"
A nod.
"Hm. So, you're…" Hannah trailed off suggestively, looking at him a little closer. Peter certainly looked human enough, with his dark brown hair in a sensible crew cut, and casual clothing…the height was kind of unique though. "Gifted?"
"I am." He told her, his tone empty and cautious as he peered down at her. "Are you?"
"Nah." She shrugged, going back to the picture.
Letting out a quiet grunt he shifted and looked over her shoulder. "Then how did you know what gifted meant?"
"Just because I'm not gifted, doesn't mean I don't know people who are."
"Who do you know that goes there?"
"Nobody." The woman glanced up at him, shrugging nonchalantly, "but I know a girl who was offered a place there."
Peter's brows rose, "and she refused?"
The book closed in her lap. Her gaze softening at him. The train was getting more crowded and she handed the sketch book back to him. "This isn't the best place to discuss this." She told him, smiling sadly, "I'm sorry I mentioned it."
His thumb trailed the spine of the book carefully. "It's fine." Imposing as he was, Peter felt a tad…afraid of where the conversation had been heading. She had been quite passive, eying him in a manner that both thrilled and humiliated him. Like she was seeing right through him. Like he was one of the pictures she had been staring so delicately at. His eyes dropped to a familiar pout as she looked up at him.
"Come on," Hannah said, pout transforming into a smirk as she nodded towards the doors. Her hand slipped over his, and once again the tingles started up.
The hesitation was brief. He weaved his fingers through hers as she pulled him from the train.
For a while, they just wandered around the city, hand in hand. The silence was fine with the both of them, but all too soon, Hannah's hand slipped from his. The reaction left a cool spot on his hand, and for a moment the gargantuan man felt a tad dejected. But her arm slid through his and she rested her head on his shoulder as they walked.
"Would it be rude if I asked about your abilities?"
He looked down at her. "No."
"Good," She pulled back to look at him. The setting sun was hitting his face in all the right places, making him look more like a Greek god than an everyday artist. "Where you from?"
Slightly caught off guard by the question, he more or less blurted out the answer, "Moscow."
"Hm. You got family there?"
He thought of his little sister's frightened face, his father's angry snarl as he banished him from their home. "No. No family."
"Ah. Always good to meet another orphan." She elbowed his side gently. His gaze returned to her face as they stopped, just inside Central Park. Her eyes sparkled in the increasingly dark setting and he swept a thumb over her cheek. A shudder ran down her spine, but the touch had been too brief to cause any pain. She bit her bottom lip, tucking it between her teeth as he continued to look down at her with an intensity she couldn't place. Clearing her throat, she asked, "so, what can you do then?"
"My body can…I…" He always hated having to describe his power. Instead, he looked down at his hand. Understanding, she dropped her gaze to it as well. A gasp escaped her throat as the flesh turned, shifted, transformed into a metallic chrome.
Her eyes stayed locked on the appendage, and she quietly asked if she could touch it. When he nodded, her warm hand slipped over his metal one. It was cool to the touch, and she was surprised when no pain came from the contact. Eyes widening slightly she slid her hand up his arm to his shoulder and finally to cup his cheek.
"You're…" Struggling for words, she smiled sheepishly at him. "Amazing." The cheek heated under her touch and she pulled away as her fingers began to ache. "Walk me home, there, Superman?"
Peter nodded, smiling at her.
-Later-
His hands were slightly calloused as they ran down her body; touching and experimenting with care as the rocked in sync with each other.
The only sounds in the apartment were soft moans, the creak of the mattress and the slick sound of skin on skin, teasing and exciting the young lovers as they sought each other out in the dim light.
Hannah lifted her hips to meet Peter's as the steady pain came to her in waves, but they were nothing compared to the pleasure he was giving her. His hand cupped her face as he kissed her again. The touch was warm and sent tingles down her spine, goose bumps rising on her skin. It cooled suddenly, dramatically, and her back arched as they climaxed together. His skin had turned back to its metallic hue and texture, pushing her over the edge as the pain inverted instantly.
-.-
He didn't leave right away. In fact, the pair spent almost a week in bed together. Touching and kissing in a way more accustom to newlyweds than the most intimate strangers.
Peter hadn't offered any of his friends an excuse. He hadn't called or even gave it a second thought. Perhaps that was selfish of him, but they simply weren't on his mind. His fingers stroked her cheek, watching her eyes flutter open. He smiled at her, and she looked back at him with worn features.
He wasn't a foolish man. He knew something was wrong, but she wasn't willing, or perhaps able, to share, so he didn't mention how she had collapsed in the kitchen the night before. Or how she had fallen in the shower.
When the smile was returned to him, weak but genuine, he kissed her. More gentle than before, with more caring than passion.
Hannah's eyes caressed his face tenderly. Her blonde hair spread around her, but too exhausted to even start to fret over her appearance.
"Something's wrong." She whispered to him, her bottom lip going between her teeth in a familiar manner that was both comforting and frightening to him.
The man nodded to her, "I know."
"Maybe you should go." Hannah said, but her tone left him wondering if it was a question. "Just for a day or two." She smirked at him, weakly, "I'd like you to come back though, Pete."
He returned the gesture, "okay." His lips brushed the crown of her forehead before he stood. She did as well, grabbing a t-shirt off the back of her chair and pulling it over her head. He did the same, dressing in a slow manner as she looked at him affectionately.
Soon she was walking him to the door. Her kiss was slow, almost chaste as she peered up at him in the doorway. "Thank you."
"For what?" He asked, nuzzling her nose with hers.
She shrugged, "I'm not sure," Hannah smiled, "maybe I just needed a Superman to walk into my life…I've had kind of a rough couple months."
"Oh?" He raised a brow. But didn't press her. They could talk later. Instead, he gave her another gentle kiss. "I'll see you soon."
With a nod, Hannah assured him he would before he turned away, and she closed the door.
This was a lie, not that either of them knew it at the time. Peter returned to her small apartment the next night, flowers in hand, ready to take her out on a proper date. But there was no answer when he knocked.
So he tried again the next night.
And the night after that. With a pang of rejection in his heart, he stopped going to her. After a week he stopped taking the subway, not willing to take it in another last ditch attempt to see her again.
He would never have known something was wrong unless a small, terrified looking girl hadn't run up to him on the street. "Wait!"
Not thinking anything of it, Peter kept going. He wouldn't have turned, if not for the hand that wrapped around his wrist. Startled, his arm quickly transformed into that of chrome. The girl jerked away but didn't run. "You knew her, right? Hannah?"
Unsure what to say, he stupidly blurted out, "what?"
"Hannah! Hannah Quinn! You helped her on the train, and-" Mindy was becoming hysterical, her telepathy entering his mind with fearsome images of familiar but blood stained furniture and a torn apart apartment. "She's gone." The girl whispered, tears in her eyes, "I've asked everyone, and no one knows where she is."
"What? When?" He demanded, looking down at her with an almost angry stare. "How long has she been gone?"
"I don't know! Last time I saw her was maybe a week and a half ago... She said something about leaving her wallet at home and she ran home to get it- I thought she was just stiffing me with the tab!" She cried, starting to sob as more images flooded his mind. He closed his eyes to fend them off, the sight of her dirtied sheets and her clothing ripped and soiled on her bed too much for him. "I didn't think- I mean, I knew the F.o.H were after her but-"
"Friends of Humanity?" He asked, going stark still.
She nodded weakly, "Hannah- Hannah had been abducted a couple months ago. They- they fucked with her head and-" The child was becoming hysterical, and Peter quickly grabbed her shoulders.
"You have to calm down." He told her, his own tone completely detached. The exact opposite of how he was feeling. "We'll go to the Professor."
Her light blue eyes blinked up at him, "Xavier? You-"
"Yeah. Come on." He took her hand and led her to the train station.
This time all he could focus on was the empty seat across from him. The thoughts of her face reflecting in every passing window of every subway car.
A/N: Okay, this is the first of a three-shot. The next one will be up after my next Everything You Ever chapter, than the third will be near the end of E.Y.E. Tell me what you think, I know her chip works differently than Penny's, but remember this is when she's fresh out of the F.o.H's hands. Every chip is unique.