Ok, so I know this is a little late, but it's taking a bit longer to write than I wanted it to - on the plus side it's now twice as long as I planned.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Simpsons, Matt Groaning and Fox do. Blah, blah, blah. This is not for commercial purposes, I do not give permission for anyone else to use it for commercial purposes without appropriate permissions from fox. I give permission for anyone to use this for non-commercial purposes, feel free to edit, remix or post this anywhere, so long as you give me credit.

Disclaimer 2: This story also draws heavily from the Steven King novel 'Firestarter', though it does so in a satirical fashion which I consider to be fair use. Whatever, please don't sue me.

Chapter 1

Lisa awoke to the terrifying sight of flames swirling all around her, the stench of burning fabric filled her nostrils, choking her. She screamed. Her room was on fire! Down the hall she could hear the smoke alarm beeping, nearly drowned out by the fierce crackling of the flames. She rolled off her bed, crawling on the floor to stay under the smoke. Her eyes were burning, she hacked and coughed, trying desperately to clear the smoke from her lungs, but she kept crawling forward – if she stopped now, she would die.

She reached the hallway and found that it too was on fire. She kept crawling. Reaching the stairs, she tried to stand, but found she was too light headed from the lack of oxygen, so she descended the stairs sitting down, one at a time. She could see the front door in front of her, silhouetted in the thick haze of smoke. She was almost out. She stood up shakily and stumbled towards it. Just then a huge gout of flames shot out of the wall, blocking her path – the flames were tinted blue, one of the gas lines must have blown.

Tears leaked from her smoke-tortured eyes, cutting twin paths through the soot on her face. She was going to die. She couldn't go on. Outside the door she could hear Marge screaming her name.

"I'm sorry." she whispered, before closing her eyes and running into the flames.

She kept running, out the door and into the arms of a very surprised fireman, who promptly wrapped her in a fire-proof blanket. Extinguishing the flames. The blanket felt coarse and stifling, but she could do nothing about it, it felt as though her whole body had turned to jelly. The fireman pulled the blanket off her face to check whether she was breathing, and she could see Marge, wide eyed in shock and relief, leaning on another fireman, who no doubt moments ago, had prevented her from running back into the burning building. She tilted her head slightly, Homer was there too, and Bart, who was holding Maggie. Thank god, she thought, they all got out ok. All she wanted to do now was pass out, which she did, promptly.

When she awoke minutes later there was an oxygen mask over her face, she could breath a lot easier now, but her lungs still burned. She glanced around and realised she was in the back of an ambulance. She could hear voices outside.

"…It's the damnedest thing, she ran straight through the flames," she heard one say "her clothes were incinerated, but she's not burned at all."

"Well, I guess sometimes people get lucky" shrugged another

"Look, I've seen lucky and this ain't it, this is a strait-up miracle" he shot back "hell, not even her hair is singed – how do you explain that?"

"A whole flock of angels must be looking out for her." said the second, only half joking.

Marge's unmistakable blue hair revealed itself outside the back door.

"Mom!" cried Lisa, tugging the mask off her face.

Marge stepped up into the ambulance and sat down beside her, Lisa sat up and hugged her, oxygen mask dangling around her neck.

"It's ok, I'm here. Oh, keep that on sweetie" said Marge, gently slipping the mask back on before returning the hug.

"How's she doing?" she called out to the paramedics outside

"Surprisingly well, considering she just ran through fire," replied the paramedic "As far as we can tell, she wasn't burned at all, though the smoke inhalation was pretty bad. She's gonna be fine Ms Simpson, but you should keep an eye on her for the next 24 hours or so, just to be on the safe side."

"Oh, thank god," she said to Lisa "I thought I'd lost you."

-x-

Twenty minutes later the firemen had finally extinguished the blaze, but the damage was done. The house that had seen them through two hurricanes, a nuclear apocalypse, floods, fires and countless zombie attacks was little more than a blackened husk.

"Well, we're about done here," said the fire chief "from the looks of things the fire started near the centre of your daughter's bedroom."

"Lisa!" exclaimed Marge "How many times have I told you not to use candles in your bedroom?"

"But mom, I wasn't –" began Lisa

The words caught in her throat, she was pretty sure that she hadn't had a candle, but how else could you explain it? It was all her fault, she could have killed her whole family, and just so she could read some stupid book by candle light. Tears welled in her eyes

"I'm sorry!" she sobbed "I'm so sorry, I don't know –"

She broke down into tears. Homer picked her up and hugged her.

"Oh honey, it's alright," he consoled "accidents happen. The important thing is that no-one was hurt. Besides, it's not the first time we've burned down the house, it fact the firemen said if we have one more fire this month, we get one free."

Lisa couldn't help but chuckle at that.

"Daaad," she giggled, drying her eyes, "he was joking!"

"Are you sure?" asked Homer, scratching his head in mock confusion "cause he wasn't laughing…"

"Yes!" she said, breaking into a smile.

Homer smiled back, he might not be the best father in the world, but at least he could cheer up his daughter.

-x-

The next week Lisa was at school. She had tried to put the fire out of her mind, but one aspect still really bugged her. She honestly couldn't remember lighting any candles. Maybe she shouldn't have admitted blame so easily, what if it was an electrical fault? What if the firelighters were wrong about the point of ignition? What if…

There was no use in playing 'what if', what was done was done. What really bothered her was that she couldn't remember. She felt like she was losing her mind, ever since the accident she had started getting headaches that felt as if her brain were on fire, and at least twice she had woken in the night, terrified that the house would be on fire again.

Troubling as these symptoms were, she supposed they were to be expected. She didn't trouble anyone with them; they were her burden to bear.

Deep in thought she had unknowingly stumbled into the section of corridor where Francine and her gang hung out. Lisa's eyes widened in fear as she spotted her leaning against a locker, Francine's narrowed.

"Hey nerd" asked Francine menacingly "what'a you think you're doing here?"

"I'm sorry," squeaked Lisa, cowering instinctively "I'm going."

Francine stuck out her arm, blocking Lisa's path, and making a booming sound as it smacked into the locker. Lisa winced at the sound – she could feel another fire headache coming.

"You're not leaving before the lesson are you?" mocked Francine "'Cause we're going to teach you one."

All her cronies laughed, as if she had just made a great joke. Lisa could feel their laughter piercing into her skull, her brain felt like it was on fire, as if it could melt and drain out of her ears. She clamped her hands over her ears, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up" she wimpered

"What did you say?" asked Francine, imitating a posh teacher "such language cannot be tolerated, I'm going to have to throw the book at you!"

And she did just that, selecting a particularly heavy history textbook, she hurled it right at Lisa's face.

Lisa saw the book coming, her eyes focused on it and all the sudden the book burst into flames, disintegrating to ash in mid air. Lisa blinked in surprise, her headache had subsided somewhat, as if the heat from her head had somehow transferred itself into the book.

The bullies were more than surprised, their eyes practically bugged out of their sockets.

But she wasn't finished yet, her head still burned, she had to get the heat out. A row of lockers melted into slag and the floor started to bubble. An aura of flame surrounded her, but she did not burn. The bullies were long gone, run off to wherever they could hide. A drinking fountain burst off the wall and a stream of water shot outwards. Lisa focused her heat into it and if flashed to steam.

Cool off, she thought, cool off. And then it was over. The heat was finally gone from her mind. Siting cross-legged on the floor she surveyed the utter destruction, everything within 20 meters/yards of her was utterly destroyed. In a circular pattern radiating out from where she now sat. The whole area was shrouded in steam, further down the hall on each side the sprinkler system had activated, but not above her; the intense heat had fused them shut. How could she explain this? She couldn't, no-one could. It was utterly inexplicable. Yet somehow it had happened.

Principle Skinner and a group of teachers came running around the corner fire extinguishers in hand, to find only Lisa.

"Lisa!" asked Skinner "What happened here?"

"Uhhh…" said Lisa, shell-shocked " well I did, I guess."

"You set fire to the school?" he asked incredulous

"Uh, yeah" said Lisa, looking around, still not quite believing it "I guess I did…"

"Um, well…" said Skinner "Detention?"

-x-

Lisa sat in detention, surrounded by the very kids who had previously tormented her. This time however they all gave her a wide berth. As if she were a bomb that could go off at any time. Which she supposed was fair enough, given that she had just slagged a hallway full of lockers with her mind. Suddenly the classroom door was blown off its hinges, all the windows shattered simultaneously and the room started filling with teargas. Three fully armoured commandos burst through the windows and were joined by three more who rushed through the doorway.

They were clad head to toe in matte black body armour, they wore full face helmets with gold tinted visors, ultra-bright headlamps, and integrated gas masks. The helmet attached to the neck of the armour with an airlock seal. Most carried submachine guns, P90's if she could remember from her brother's war movies, but some, inexplicably, sported crossbows, one even carried a rune inscripted broadsword. A patch on their right shoulders depicted a crossed out dragon with the letters PSA-1, on their left shoulder was an American flag patch.

"Lisa Simpson. You're coming with us." one of them said, his voice amplified over some speakers in the helmet.

"Am I under arrest?" asked Lisa "what's the charge?"

"If you resist," continued the voice "you will be taken by force."

"Hey, I'm talking to you!" yelled Lisa "who the hell are you?"

One of them grabbed Lisa's shoulder, turned her around and handcuffed her. Lisa could feel the heat within her mind. More controlled this time. She released the heat into the cuffs expecting them to melt, but they didn't. She cranked up the heat further, singeing the paper on a nearby table, she kept cranking it up, smelling ozone as the air surrounding them ionized.

"Don't bother" said one of the commandos female this time "Those cuffs are carbon nano-tube re-enforced tungsten carbide, you could drop them into a volcano."

"You can't do this!" yelled Lisa "You can't just arrest someone without charge! It's unconstitutional!"

"Actually according to the Patriot Act, we can arrest anyone for no reason whatsoever." said the first commando

Lisa moved the focus of her heat onto one of the commandos. His body was engulfed in flame.

"The suits are flameproof" said the flaming commando calmly "further resistance will result in force, you have three seconds to comply."

The commando holstered his crossbow and a tazer popped out of his armour gauntlet, he raised his arm to point it at Lisa.

"one, two, thr…"

"Hey! You can't Taze an eight year old!" cried Lisa

"Patriot Act" said the commando as he fired

-x-

Lisa was still semi-conscious as she was dragged through the school halls. Other students had their faces pressed up against the glass to see the decidedly strange sight of a young girl being, essentially, kidnapped by six heavily armed commandos.

When they got outside there were several dozen more soldiers, though they were less exotic in their armour and weapons. On their shoulders they carried similar patches though these had numbers from 2 - 6 on them.

Outside, there were an array of vehicles, some looked similar to swat vans, while others were more similar to striker armoured personnel carriers, there was even a Black Hawk helicopter. Lisa was surprised when the vehicle they dragged her towards was not military at all, but a fairly average looking stretch limousine. They pushed her inside and closed the door. The limo immediately started moving and the other vehicles moving to escort it.

Lisa was still recovering from the effects of being tazed, but she managed to look around, and she saw that she was not alone. Across from her sat a fairly old man – in his sixties if she had to guess.

"Hello Lisa," said the Man "I'm director Allen"

"Who, are you guys?" said Lisa, slurring her speech, she felt as though the air was syrup

"We're the Paranormal Security Agency," he answered "we're responsible for protecting the United States against supernatural threats."

Lisa processed this information for a second.

"You mean, there are others?" she said "Like me?"

"Well, no actually." he replied

"What, you mean no …er fire controllers?" she asked

"We call it pyrokinesis." said Allen "But no, you're the first paranormal we've ever seen."

Lisa thought it over.

"That makes no sense!" she exclaimed "If I'm the first how can there be an entire agency devoted to this?"

The director sighed.

"Well, we were created by president Truman in 1952 on a drunken bet, and if you know anything about politics you'll know that it's impossible to cut any kind of security or military spending without looking soft on terrorism. That's why there's more 1271 intelligence and security agencies right now. That we know of! They're finding more every day."

"Lucky me" said Lisa sarcastically "so what's with the crossbows?"

"They're to fend off vampires" said the director

"But vampires aren't real!" protested Lisa

"Oh great, a lesson in what's real from the little girl who can start fires with her mind." replied the director sarcastically

"Hey, I may be pyrokinetic, and a girl," said Lisa "but that doesn't make my opinions any less valid, now how did you find me?"

The air in the car had started to become hotter, the air conditioner howling in protest, and the director dabbed at his forehead with a handkerchief.

"An update to your school record flagged in one of our surveillance servers." he said "It's our job you know."

"Those are supposed to be confidential, that's illegal!" she yelled

"Not according to the Patriot Ac-" he began

"If I hear one more person say 'Patriot Act' I swear I'm going to fry them!" yelled Lisa "Why am I being held, and keep in mind what will happen if you use the 'P' word."

"You mean 'Patriot'?" he asked, in answer his handkerchief burned into ash, shocking him, but leaving his hand unharmed, "You are being held for study by the PSA, until such a time as you are deemed to no longer be a threat to these United States."

Lisa didn't see the director's hand moving towards his watch. He pressed a button on the watch's face and a transparent barrier suddenly slid down into place between them. A white gas started flowing out of the vents on her side, it tasted slightly cold and had a vaguely metallic odour. Even the one breath she had taken made her head swim. Knockout gas! She realised. She held her breath and tried to burn her way out, but once again they were one step ahead, the car was flameproof. Her lungs ached as she pounded on the glass. The director watched impassively. Eventually she was forced to take a breath, her head spun and her arms felt like they were filled with lead. Her eyes closed and she slumped to the floor unconscious.