The Error-Proof Test:

Never has someone wished so hard that it was false advertising

*****

"Damnit Pietro! Gimme back the remote!" Todd yelled, making another mad dash after the silver-haired speedster. He cursed again as he barked his shin on a leg of the over-turned coffee table. Pietro just laughed. Standing atop the arm of the sofa, he threw the remote to the other side of the room and caught it him self. He repeated the action numerous times, laughing again as Todd veered precariously to the right, narrowly missing the floor lamp.

"Come on, Tolensky! You gotta be quicker than that!" Pietro taunted, now standing on the ottoman.

Lance sat quietly in an armchair off in the corner: the only piece of furniture that had not been upset. He was paging through the latest addition of Auto Weekly, and doing his best to ignore his bickering companions. He winced as he heard a loud crash -There goes another lamp- but still refused to acknowledge the mayhem about him. Bad things happened to people who got involved with Pietro when he was bored. Lance had only been on the receiving end of said boredom twice. The second time he had nearly brought the house down, and Pietro had opted not to include him in his schemes after that.

The doorbell rang.

"GET THE DOOR!" Lance, Pietro and Todd all shouted to each other. Todd continued to chase Pietro, Pietro continued to run, and Lance continued to studiously ignore his surroundings.

The doorbell rang again, twice this time.

"Get the door, Lance!" Pietro and Todd both yelled, still chasing each other around the room.

Lance ignored them.

The doorbell rang again, and continued to ring once every half second after that, the person on the porch grown clearly impatient..

"One of you get the damn DOOR!" Wanda yelled from upstairs.

"Your wish is my command, snuggle-pumpkin!" Todd yelled -in vain, for her door was already closed again- and scrambled to the door.

Pietro beat him to it.

"Alright, alright!" Pietro shouted through the thin wood paneling, wrenching it open. "What the hell do you-"

A white plastic rectangle about the size of a finger almost pegged him in the forehead. He ducked, and it bounced off the doorframe, skittering across the porch to land at the feet of a young woman. She stood squarely in the doorway, as close as she could be without actually being in the house, and looked as if she had been through a hurricane. Black hair was falling out of its ponytail, her face framed by flyaway wisps and curls. Her eyes were swollen -she had obviously been crying- and her cheeks were red with anger.

"YOU!" she snarled, jabbing a finger into Pietro's chest. "You lying, cheating, dirty, rotten, no-good SCUM!!!"

"Hey Pietro, she knows your whole name!" Todd said cheekily, peering over Pietro's shoulder.

"Quiet, you!" Pietro snapped, smacking Todd over the back of the head. Turning back to the fuming young woman on his doorstep, he batted her finger away and said irritably "Do I know you?"

With a barely repressed scream of rage, she balled her fists and swung at Pietro, first with her left, then with her right, both of which he caught without even blinking an eye. He raised an eyebrow in amusement.

Wrenching out of his grasp, she glared at Todd, who was laughing uproariously in the hall behind Pietro. Sobering immediately at the look of utter contempt she cast upon him, he cleared his throat uncertainly and hopped off to the kitchen, leaving Quicksilver to his almost certainly unpleasant face.

"So…" Pietro said, already growing bored with the whole scenario. "Should I remember you from somewhere?"

"New Yea's Eve," she finally grated out. Pietro winced at the harsh Brooklyn accent that grated at his ears.

"Which New Years Eve?" he asked, now buffing his nails on his shirt, inspecting them in a very nonchalant manner. He missed the color darkening in her cheeks.

"LAST New Year's Eve, you ass!" she yelled stamping her foot.

Pietro thought back. He had been thoroughly smashed that night -he could not even remember who's party he'd been at- but somewhere through the haze of liquor, party poppers, and a dance-floor of gyrating bodies, a face swam into view: a face that was much like the one now glaring at him. As he remembered it belonged to a girl named….

"Mary" he exclaimed, opening his arms to her and smiling as if greeting a long-lost friend.

"MARTY!" she screamed, throwing her purse at him.

Pietro chuckled nervously. "Mary, Marty, they're practically the same name." He waved as if clearing the air. "Anyway, what do you want?"

In answer, she picked up the piece of white plastic and shoved it in his face.

"What the hell is this?" he asked, looking at it skeptically.

"A POSITIVE pregnancy test, you moron!"

Pietro's mind went blank.

*****

So…what did y'all think? This was supposed to be funny, and not very tearful or serious, so I hope I conveyed that well. I have no idea where this came from, but since I adore Pietro, and always pictured his as being someone who would get along smashingly with small children, I thought "Ok, why not give him one of his own?" This will NOT be a romance fic (I hope). And really, we all know he gets around! Title and summary courtesy of my friend Lady Erised, who is quite brilliant, despite what she herself might think. She writes Snape-centric Harry Potter fanfics. Check 'em out! Haha! Anyway, review, review, REVIEW! It's much appreciated, I assure you!

Oh, and I don't own Evolution, so please don't sue me!