Author's Note: Okay, so this is a bit of something new for me. I read this really awesome fic by Minisinoo called I'd Sure Hate to Break Down Here. If you haven't read it, you should. Seriously. Go do it! Er, right after you read this one, of course. Anyway, I really liked the idea of inserting Quicksilver into the movie-verse but as a character that has been constantly present, just not shown in the movies. There will be hints of a past romance and some chapters have direct references to events shown in the movies (such as this first one, which takes place not long after X3) but this is first and foremost a story of friendship. It also will sometimes reference characters from the comics but everything should be explained well enough that not being a comic nerdling like me shouldn't hinder the story. (If this is not the case, please let me know!) It should also be noted that this story will not be taking place in chronological order. Partly because I felt like it and partly because I like the idea of playing with time to help tell the story. (And, yes, I know "the present" is 2008, not 2004 but I'm going with the movie timeline.) Um, yeah. I think I've rambled quite enough now. Thank you to both Beaubier and my beta John for the help and support! Now, on with the show…
Disclaimer: Characters mentioned are used without permission and are trademarks of Marvel Characters, Inc and Warner Brother's Studio. I do not own them and am simply borrowing for my purposes. Please don't sue.

Brown + Blue
by, Caliente

Chapter 1: The Present

Today – 2004

There was never a preamble with Pietro Maximoff. It was just a rush of air and then there he was, a towering presence with his piercing blue eyes, white hair and pale face. At thirty-five, he was the spitting image of his father in his youth. The Xavier Institute residents were rarely thrilled to see him (especially the Wolverine who liked to greet outsiders with his claws), but there was one person who always had a smile for the mutant speedster.

He found her in the greenhouse, tending to the plants with the same gentle care he knew she showed her students. When she felt the breeze announcing his presence, she turned to find him inspecting the Tree Mallow near one of the windows. Ororo Munroe dusted her hands on the handkerchief tucked into her only pair of jeans—about four years out of style and a bit too small—and let a smile spread across her face. "Hello, Pietro."

Turning from the plant, he wrinkled his nose. "You know, I still don't understand why you like this place so much," he said. "It's just so boring."

"I like boring sometimes," Ororo replied easily, walking toward the exit and gesturing for him to follow. He did, matching her pace easily. She paused for a moment, her usually bright brown eyes clouding with emotion. "These days, I crave boring." She didn't elaborate, preferring to let him read between the lines rather than reopen old wounds. He'd been to the funerals—all of them, though some had proved more permanent than others—and he knew she was running the school in Xavier's stead. There weren't a lot of dots to connect.

Pietro gave her shoulder a quick squeeze, letting the silence hang between them. After a long minute, his mouth quirked up into an ironic smirk. "Bet you wish you had my powers."

Allowing the sadness wash away, she let out a warm laugh. "I'm quite happy with my own, thank you," she told him. "Especially since the side effects of super-speed seem to be arrogance, snark and a general disdain for humanity."

"Beaubier?" he guessed, not missing a beat. He never missed a beat. She nodded and he scowled, eyebrows raised. "Yes, well, at least I have the excuse that my speed never turns off." Then he adopted the familiar smug expression he wore so well. "And anyway, I'm faster."

"Yes," she agreed, "but he can fly." Pietro snorted, prompting her to hold up her hand in a vain attempt to forestall him. "Do not say it," she warned. His grin grew. "I mean it—don't. It's too terrible."

There was a quiet moment, then, "He really is a fairy."

Despite herself, Ororo laughed again. "See? Terrible. That was a terrible pun." She tried to look disapproving but it was futile.

"Yeah, it was," he agreed, smiling lazily. She quite preferred it to the mask of arrogance, irony and occasional self-deprecation he was wearing more and more. It reminded her of the time when they all smiled easier.

Absentmindedly, Ororo tucked a strand of hair that'd slipped from her cloth headband behind her ear. It was longer than when he'd last visited and back to the clean white that, in his opinion, looked much nicer than the silver she'd been sporting. "You should indulge your sense of humor more often, Pietro," she said quite seriously. "It suits you."

"You always say that," he pointed out, and she was pleased to see his guard hadn't risen again.

The corners of Ororo's mouth tipped upward. "Because it's true."

Pietro gave her a wry look. "No, it was true when I was sixteen. I don't think I need to advertise the fact that my sense of humor hasn't matured with the rest of me."

"Well, I think it's cute," she argued good-naturedly.

Wiggling his eyebrows, he eyed her carefully. "It or me?"

She giggled—or whatever equivalent mirthful sound was befitting a woman of her stature. "Maybe a little of both."

There was a comfortable break in the conversation as they wandered the grounds. The weather was nice and, at the very least, it was an interesting backdrop. Something they were both reminded of when one of the girls playing nearby suddenly burst into flames. Most adults would have been worried by such a display but at Xavier's it was par for the course.

As they approached the lake, she regarded him more seriously. "So, what brings you here on this bright afternoon? Aside from the stimulating conversation, of course."

"Of course," Pietro agreed dryly, though the mask had returned. He looked bored, except for his eyes. Those she could always read. "Uncle Charles asked Wanda and me to come. Wanda had business elsewhere," Ororo knew that statement meant that whatever his twin's business was, it was most likely classified, "but I had the day, so here I am."

"And?"

With a sigh, Pietro ran an agitated hand through his hair. "And it was really weird. It's obviously him but it's not. The face is wrong. And he's walking. It's like I don't know him anymore."

Ororo echoed his sigh. "Yes, it is very strange. And the adjustment has been… shaky." She reached for his hand, stopping just before the dock. He followed suit, turning to face her. "But it will be okay. Just give it some time."

There was something of a resigned look on his face as he frowned. "I guess," was all he offered.

Her concern was visible but his drawn expression told her he didn't want to discuss the matter any further, so she changed the subject. "And how is Luna?"

Suddenly Pietro was all excitement and fatherly pride, eagerly pulling pictures out of his wallet. "She's great. That's her on her first day of kindergarten," he explained, "and this one's her ballet recital. She's with her mom right now but I get her this weekend. I'm thinking we might take a trip to China to see the panda bears. She's learning about them in school." It was just a quick jog to him, after all, even with her riding on his back.

Ororo smiled. "She's a beautiful child. I hope to see her again very soon."

"Yeah, she is gorgeous. Looks just like her mom, except the eyes." The openness in his smile made him look years younger. "The eyes are all me."

"They say the eyes are the windows into the soul," she commented absently, inspecting the image of the happy child closely.

There was something in his expression that told her he wasn't quite sure what to make of her comment, but, like most things, he took it in stride. "Yeah."

After he put the pictures away, Ororo linked her arm through his and they resumed walking. "And Crystal? How are things between you two?"

The expression on Pietro's face said it all. "Oh, you know. Still in love with the ex from before I accidentally knocked her up, enjoying the alimony she gets every month." The scathing bitterness was easiest to hear in his voice, but she detected an undercurrent of hurt and anger, too. She suspected it came from his pride more than actual emotional scarring. Only his father and sister had ever been able to get under his skin in that way.

Uncertain as to what the best response would be, she offered only a neutral, "Ah."

He shrugged. "It's fine. As long as I get to see my little girl, it's worth it." She almost believed him, too. He was rather convincing.

"She's got you wrapped around her little finger, hasn't she?" Ororo teased. He looked offended by the statement, which she took as an affirmation. "Then everything is as it should be." Not that she'd ever had any doubts.

Even Pietro couldn't disagree with that. Not that he had the chance when they were suddenly interrupted by the buzzing of a cell phone. Ororo pulled a slim razor from her back pocket and glanced at it, a light blush coloring her cheeks.

When the boredom really started setting in—more acutely than the usual—he nudged her arm. "Dirty text message?" He knew her well enough to know the odds were one in a million but her reaction was worth it. Boredom conquered (for the moment at least).

Eyes wide, her face warmed more. "No," she answered quickly. "Just a reminder of an appointment." Pietro quirked an eyebrow, intrigued. "We've had a mutant inventor upgrading the mansion's systems." There was something youthful in her expression, something that struck him dumb for a second—practically a lifetime in his world. "He asked me to dinner."

Pietro blinked, then smirked. "Lucky bastard." She swatted at him as they shared a smile. Then they finished their walk around the grounds. He left her at the entrance to the mansion with a squeeze on the shoulder, a kiss on the cheek and a promise to bring Luna by for a visit. Ororo continued smiling long after the last leaves had ceased fluttering in his wake.

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