This fic has been in the works for about a year now and I'm finally posting it. It takes place about a year after the end of the series (by my estimation) and you can expect several things from it: some Lancitty tension, some fun with Pietro, and a story that's somewhere between a buddy fic and a romance.

Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men: Evo or any associated characters, bla bla bla.

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One: My Job Offer

"No, you get up here and try to tell these morons what to do. I'm nobody's errand boy, Fury. I've told you thirty times that you can't expect us to come running down to Washington every time you've got an itch on your ass you're having trouble scratching. We're tired and, in Pyro's case, sick and hung over. We just got back from one kamikaze mission. The least you can do is get your ass up here to debrief us."

Pietro shuffled a deck of cards for the seventh time that afternoon. "Having trouble with the boss?"

Lance nodded as Fury launched into a string of swear words. There seemed to be a threat hidden somewhere amongst the profanity, although it was hard to tell. Lance was able to pick out "large metal pole," "comatose," and "barrel of inbred monkeys," although he was unsure how they were supposed to go together.

"Gimme the phone." Pietro didn't wait for him to oblige, instead taking it by force. "It's Quicksilver. Listen here, Fury. We're tired. Pyro just got done puking his guts out, and to be honest, I don't even know where Fred went. Wanda's been complaining about some womanly problem all day. I think it's that time of the month. You really want to piss her off?"

Lance shook his head and headed out of the kitchen, grabbing a half-full carton of milk as he went. Todd was the only other person in the living room, and he was busy watching some cheesy romance flick on TV. Lance had long since learned not to question Todd about this odd habit. The last time he had, Todd had ended up naked on the roof and Wanda had hexed her way out of the house. He couldn't even remember how that happened.

"Of course we're getting short with you, moron. Did you not hear the 'tired and hung over' part?" Lance took a gulp of the milk as he listened to Pietro sigh. "Well, yeah. For Chrissake, Fury, he's been moping for the past three months. You're just noticing now?"

Lance's grip on the carton tightened. Not again.

"No, it's not her at all. He's actually pining after some hooker we picked up in New York during that run-in with Spidey and co." He could hear Fury's tinny shouting through the receiver. "Jeez, stop yelling! It's just sarcasm. But all jokes aside, boss, we're beat. We've had four assignments inside of a week, and at some point or another each of us has nearly lost a limb. You get up here and tell us to our faces that you want us to go risk our lives again for our weekly wage, which, by the way, is pretty pathetic for the work we're doing and honestly, I'd feel a little more secure if it wasn't on a contingent basis."

The heroine of the chick flick broke out into song. Todd leaned forward in his perch on the sofa.

"Good. I told you we could work something out. See you later, boss." Lance felt Pietro walk up behind him. "He's coming here to debrief us."

"Yay."

"I swear, if it's another containment mission, I might just quit."

"No you won't. The pay's crap, but it's not like a high school dropout can find any other decent job, and Fury's got so much dirt on us he could have us in jail before our two weeks' notice is even up."

"Ah, but that's the beauty of amnesty!" Pietro exclaimed, grinning. "I bet Fury's already regretting that."

Lance rolled his eyes. "No doubt."

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REWRITE/EDIT?

Kitty groaned as her roommate squealed and giggled on the bunk above her. Another late night conversation with the boyfriend. Either he was Prince Charming or the roommate was just really ditzy. Kitty leaned toward the latter.

She knew that Rogue would be laughing if she could hear her now, but Kitty hadn't been that bad. Sure, she'd stayed up and talked to Lance until two in the morning sometimes, and yes, she'd giggled, but she hadn't squealed. Lance was great and all, but no guy would ever make her squeal.

Ugh. Lance.

She pushed that uncomfortable subject from her mind. It had been three months and it still got to her. Maybe Rogue had a point.

Kitty rolled over to look at the clock and groaned again when she saw the time. She was already running late for her philosophy class. Muttering to herself, she sat up and began groping about for her shoes, doing her best to ignore her roommate and her own strayed thoughts.

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"Tolansky! I said no onions!"

"Sorry, Bossman."

Fury watched as Todd hopped back into the kitchen. He then turned away to face the others. He didn't see Todd spit in his sandwich as he removed the offending vegetables.

"Stop diddling, Fury," Pyro growled. He banged his head against the table lightly and swore. Each rap on the wood was another hidden message: I don't want to be here. I hate you. I think I'm going to throw up. "I could be in bed right now, you know."

"Aw. Poor you." Fury extended his hand and took the plate as Todd handed it back to him. "If you're going to make me come here to debrief you, then I'm sure as hell going to be comfortable doing it." He took a bite out of the sandwich, chewed for a moment, and then nodded, satisfied. Now he turned his attention to the peeling wallpaper and the stains on the sofas. "This place looks like a dump. What do you lot do with your paycheck? Really. There's rats and flies and –"

"Fury, shut up and get on with it," Wanda growled. Her eyes flashed, and Fury's mouth hung limp, chewed sandwich in plain sight. "I'm starting to get a little irritated."

Fury shut his mouth and swallowed his food. "You're right. Well. Now that we're all here, let's get down to business. First off, I've got two missions for you."

This was greeted with a large uproar. Pietro rattled off a long diatribe in the space of a breath; Todd nearly hopped up to the broken chandelier during his own protesting; Fred took Fury's sandwich and began waving it at him in a threatening manner before deciding that he was hungry and stopping; Pyro groaned into the table and banged his foot into the floor; and a vase near Wanda shattered. Lance just sat back and watched it all. He had already grown accustomed to the demands of S.H.I.E.L.D. The extra mission was hardly a surprise.

"Now, everyone just settle down a second, and Dukes, give me back my sandwich." Fred recognized the danger in Fury's tone and obliged. "There we go. Before you throw me out of this little dump you call a house, let me explain. There are two missions, but each person will only be taking part in one. We're splitting up the team, in other words."

"Oh," said Todd, hanging from the chandelier. "Well, that's a little better."

"Not much, though," Pietro added.

"I know, I know. But would you shut up for a second so I can explain the missions?" Fury took a bite of his sandwich. "Good grub, Tolensky."

Lance grinned as Todd saluted the commander. "No prob, Bossman."

"Anyways. As I was saying. Our first mission is in Washington, which is one of the reasons I wanted you all to come down there. You might have heard of a man named Grayson Creed."

Pyro looked up. "You got my attention."

"I thought that would do it." There was a pause as Fury considered his sandwich (or, more likely, how to phrase his next sentence). "This weekend a convention will be held, and Creed will be attending. The FBI's received a tip that an attempt will be made on Creed's life, and naturally they turned to us." He set down the sandwich. "I need you to protect Grayson Creed for a weekend and find out who's trying to kill him."

"You're kidding," Pyro deadpanned.

"There's no mystery who's trying to kill him," muttered Wanda to herself, and Lance agreed with her. "The guy's going on and on about ending the mutant threat. Did you hear that the Friends of Humanity nearly killed that mutant girl in Alabama? Every sane person with an X gene wants him dead."

"Yeah," said Fred, "why should we protect him?"

"Because we've got a legal obligation to protect him, that's why," Fury replied. He was in Serious Kickass Boss mode now. "No matter what you think of the guy, how do you think it's going to look if some mutant extremist goes along and kills him? The Friends of Humanity will just rally along and decry mutants for all they're worth. That's obviously a bit of a dilemma for us, as the higher-ups are going to be under severe pressure to can this whole Freedom Force mutant outfit. Basically, boys, you'll be out of a job if Creed's killed."

Pietro crossed his arms in a childish pout. "Well that sucks. What about the other mission?"

"Not nearly as exciting," said Fury. "There's an operation in Chicago called the Hellfire Club. A bunch of rich aristocrats, basically, but we've received word that something else may be going on there. We want a couple of you to try to infiltrate and find out what you can to see if any further investigation will need to be made. It won't be much – just an intel-gathering mission, but it's crucial nonetheless."

Lance saw it before it happened. He opened his mouth to stop it, but it was too late.

"Me and Lance'll take it," Pietro responded before anyone else could even think it over. He glanced at Lance, and Lance mouthed several choice words at him. The last thing he needed was a trip to the Second City.

"That was quick. All right. Two should be fine." Fury leaned forward and placed his plate on the table. "So we've got Toad, Blob, Pyro, and the Scarlet Witch on the Creed case. That's an… interesting team. I'll send escorts in a few hours to pick you up, and I'll give you further instructions at that time."

Todd jumped own from the chandelier and picked up Fury's plate, waving it at him for emphasis. "That's it? We're leaving in a few hours? That's harsh."

"Unfortunately would-be assassins tend not to wait until it's most convenient for us to stop them." Fury nodded to the entire team. "Well, it's been a good visit. I'll be in contact. Start packing."

No one said goodbye when he walked to the door and exited the house. Pietro sped over to the window and watched as Fury's van took off down the road. "This'll be fun."

"Yeah, real fun," Pyro muttered. He shakily stood up and began lumbering back to the stairs. "I'm going to bed. Wake me up when it's time to go."

"And I gotta go pack," Todd said, hopping in the direction of Pyro. "Yo, Fred, I think some of my socks are in your room. You were using them for that slingshot or whatever."

Fred chuckled and hobbled after Todd. "Oh, yeah."

Wanda said nothing. She glared at the remaining few teammates for a couple of seconds before storming out the back door.

"All right," Lance growled as he turned to Pietro, now sure that they were alone, "what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I haven't the faintest what you mean, my dear Lance!" Pietro exclaimed, doing his best to look oblivious.

"You know damn well what I mean!" Lance took a step forward and leaned against the cabinet, pinning Pietro into the corner with his presence. All of a sudden he felt like a bully back in Northbrook again. Good times. "Chicago. I'm not stupid."

"It'll be an easy mission. Just intel."

"That doesn't explain why you volunteered me."

Pietro closed the curtains and threw himself into a chair. "Oh, all right. You got me. So I had other reasons. Big deal."

"Pietro, I don't want to go to Chicago," Lance stated. "You know why."

"Yeah, yeah." Pietro placed his feet on top of the table and relaxed in his chair. "It's been three months, man. You haven't gotten over her yet. You're a mess."

"I'm not a mess."

"Yes you are. We can all tell, Lance. You've been all depressed and whatever ever since she left for college." Pietro sighed. "The way I see it, there's only two possibilities: either you're going to get over her eventually or you aren't. I figure if we stop waiting back and bring the fight to her – well, maybe we'll speed things up a little bit, and you know time is money. So, we go to Chicago, you either find out that you really don't need her, or you find out that you do so you do something about it. It's a win-win situation."

"I'm doing fine without you," grunted Lance. "I don't need your help."

For a second it looked like Pietro was going to argue but he closed his mouth and just shook his head. "Sure. Whatever you say. There's no time to argue now, though. We've got a job to do, whether you like it or not. Pack up."

In a blur Pietro was gone, the chair rattling back into place. Lance stared out the window for a moment before turning and walking back to the living room, trying to remember if he'd unpacked his bags from the last mission and silently cursing Pietro Maximoff's name.

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