Written in response to Meredith's Power Exchange Challenge of March-April 2006.

Disclaimer: This is Fanfic. Technically, if I were making a profit from writing this, it wouldn't be Fanfic. Because then I'd be a writer for Marvel. As it is, they won't respond to my letters, so all standard disclaimers apply here.

--------------------------

His tongue clamped firmly between his teeth, his eyes squinted in concentration, his fingers tightly gripping the needlenose pliers and screwdriver, the young man worked diligently on the almost-completed device. Insofar as it looked like anything else, it resembled a microwave with several antennae; and every couple of minutes it beeped cheerfully as though it was trying to converse with him.
Tightening the final screw, Forge sighed and leaned back in his chair.
"I think it's ready."

At the back of his workbench, a large piebald hamster blinked curiously at him. Forge grinned back.
"Seriously. I mean, this wasn't easy, it took ages to get the nanobots in position. But I'm almost positive it's going to work. You'll see."
The hamster's nose twitched.
"Einstein, you could be a little more enthusiastic here."
Einstein scurried over to his food bowl, stuffed half a raisin into his cheek pouch, scurried back onto his wheel, and started running. Forge nodded approvingly.
"That's more like it. Trust me, this is gonna make things a whole lot easier around here."
Einstein may have looked rather nonplussed to the untrained eye, but evidently Forge was satisfied with his workroom assistant's response, and he pushed a large button on the front of the device.

----

Lance shut the fridge door, chewing on the last slice of leftover pizza from the night before. Two pizzas had been delivered to their doorstep, the delivery boy had said something about it going on the Preese account, Pietro and Todd hadn't argued, and they'd had free dinner. Everyone was happy.
Taking another bite from his cold pizza, Lance raised an eyebrow. He didn't remember it tasting this good last night, this... intense.
God, he loved breakfast.
Behind him, Todd finished his coffee and grimaced. "Stuff's awful, yo. We got anything else to eat?"
Lance shook his head. "We're cleaned out for the day. I'm going shopping tonight."
"Man, I'm starved..."
"So eat a bug. We got nothing else."
"Yeah, yeah. C'mon, if I'm late f'r class again I'm gonna get flunked."
"Alright. Let's go."

Tossing his mug into the sink, Todd hopped to his feet - and promptly overbalanced and fell flat on his backside, knocking his chair away with a grunt. Applause came from the doorway.
"Smooth moves, Toad," Tabitha called. "Gonna do some somersaults next?"
Todd glowered at her. "Shut it. I slipped."
"Sure you did."
Lance stepped toward the door. "Enough. If you want a ride, I'm leaving now."
"We gotta ride with her, yo?"
Tabitha winked at him. "Watch it, Froggy. I'll bomb ya."
"An' I'll slime yo' ass to the roof."
Lance shook his head and walked to the door.

Outside, Fred was waiting patiently by the jeep; as Lance stepped outside, the massive youth turned to look at him.
"Was wonderin' where you were."
Unlocking the jeep, Lance slid in. "Didn't know you were so eager to get to school, big guy."
"We're late, aren't we?"
Alarmed, Lance looked at the clock. Then he blinked. "No."
"...oh." Fred frowned. "But you guys were takin' so long in there..."
"Didn't seem any slower than usual to me, big guy. Maybe you're just energetic today."
"C'n I have some 'o that, yo?" Todd opened the passenger seat and climbed in shotgun, rather than leaping in as he usually did. "I'm feelin' shredded this mornin'. Hungry as hell an' no energy."
"If you're sick, you better not infect the rest of us," Tabitha threatened. "I'll bomb you into next century if you give me the 'flu."
"Cool it, yo. I don't feel sick. Just... weird."
"If you say so, Froggy."
"Are we gonna wait fer Pie?" Fred wanted to know. Lance shook his head and gunned the engine.
"If he's coming to school, he can run there faster than I can drive it. It's his problem."
"Okay."

They drove away.

----

Ten minutes later, Pietro buckled his belt, grabbed his backpack, and opened the door. A brief look of concentration crossed his face, and he ran forward three or four steps.
Then a half-dozen glowing balls materialised in the air around him.
For a brief instant, utter astonishment appeared on his face. Then it changed to fear. Turning, he tried to bolt back into the house - and more of the glowing orbs appeared. He stepped on one, tripped, fell flat on his face on the porch...
And was hurled back through the still-open door by the explosion.
The door swung neatly shut after him.

Two minutes later, the little old lady across the street would open her door to see what the noise had been, assume it had been a car backfiring, and go back into her house.
Five minutes following this, the neighbors would wonder why smoke was wafting down the street. They would conclude that someone had lit a leaf-fire in the backyard, lodge a complaint with the local council, and forget about it.
Some thirty minutes after that, Pietro would wake up and wonder what had just happened. He would conclude that the universe was conspiring against him, decide not to go out for the rest of the day, and proceed to blow himself up another three times within ten minutes.

But for now, the street was very silent, and Pietro lay upside-down against the wall in the den, dead to the world.