A/N: First off, I haven't seen the movie Days of Future Past yet and I'm just going by the trailers, featurette information, and my own personal past knowledge. I was shocked by not being able to find any fics with THIS version of Quicksilver! Also, this is all a trial on both this OC character and this pairing, so it's brief and quite simple because I currently don't entirely know how THIS Quicksilver is going to act like. And if the style of writing seems weird, please tell me and I'll change it.

EDIT: I DID go see Days of Future Past literally the next day after posting this. So I went back and edited details that didn't fit and were off according to the movie. But the bit about the files in here are entirely my own doing. it will play in later. Any complaints please message me on my tumblr.

EDIT: You can skip to the first break in Chapter 1: Chagrin before or after this sort of prelude if you want, for a jump start. I still crave criticism validation, and approval.

UPDATE: this fic has been edited and rewritten and posted as a new fic. The newer version is called Instigator (rewrite) and doesn't have all the unnecessary extra chapters as this one does.

[Disclaimer:] I do not own anything connected with Marvel or Quickie, just my OC / I might tend to draw inspiration from the Monogatari series, but no to that too]

PRELUDE

"Now let's get this straight. I don't wish to be here, nor do I care what will happen—to you—after this."

He continued scowling at her through his eyebrows.

"What's up; you look down? I'm only here because I was told to."

To those who wouldn't have known her would have mistaken her comment as actual sympathy, unlike him.

He knew the moment she stepped foot in the room, that their invisible tug-of-war would resume. It always did.

She constantly kept him on his toes—one day he could be handed a handsome handmade lunch with hearts and love contained within; other days he could have a pen shoved into his eye socket for breathing too loudly. It was a war of sorts, and though they've only known each other for a certainamount of time...it was something he found incredibly alluring.

WAR

UNSPOKEN

HEARTS

"Do you always do what you're told," he countered just as coolly.

Her eyes narrowed to the boy sitting across the table. She knew she couldn't answer him honestly—she knew that they were being watched.

Instead, she tilted her head to the side slightly, fingers toying the ends of her knees. "Is that the natural color of your hair? You know, I've never asked before and it's never come to mind until now."

His hands instinctively flew to his head but then removed them just as quickly. "What kind of question is that?!"

"A yes or no one."

"Well it's completely off the topic of this all, ya know." He rested his hands on his dark jeans, the knees ripped, and glared as well.

"Well is it?"

"Change of subject."

It was more of a racket game of dominance between the two, of who can out-snide the other sometimes.

She sighed. "I wish to be here no more than you do. I could be doing much more productive things with my time..."

The boy shrugged and folded his arms. "You're presence is very enjoyable. It reminds me of...sunshine and puppies." Sarcasm overflowed from his comeback.

The girl glared back at him in silence but he knew her remarks were far from over. Though she was no older than him, maybe give or take a few years or so, she proved to have a far more sharper tongue. Half of the time.

"I sense that to be either sarcasm in that previous comment of yours or that you actually tried to insult me by comparing me to things associated with children."

Well, that wasn't exactly what he had meant, but, ok...

The slightly wide-eyed look of his expression cued her to continue.

Her blank, provoking look to her eyes didn't change as she merely tilted her head to the side again. Her tone remained calm though her words stung like red iron: "I get from your slightly dumbfounded look that that is true."

Well, he was positive another word surely could have been used instead of dumbfounded, and knew that that was just another of her verbal razors intended for him.

A mental picture of her sharpening a large knife, eyeing him, a slight smile on her lips came to mind. Though the thought was an exaggerated metaphor, he still repressed a shiver.

IRON

SHARP

TONGUE

She was incredibly blunt, a trait that made the task of interaction by others with her a challenge, as she would usually keep a straight face.

Instead, she then crinkled her eyes and finally, her expression cracked into a thin, yet slight, grin. "What do you think I am, stupid?"

He blinked rapidly.

Cruel—she can be. A bit insensitive—surely. But stupid—that'd be pushing the standards, even for him.

His gaze drifted to the only other object in the room and the thing keeping them both at distant. There was a brightly colored tool near the edge of the desk and from knowing her after all this time, the tool would be what she would reach for if the time came for it. But he could easily get to it first, but remembered they were being recorded as well as watched by the faculty and so thought against it.

Other supplies decorated the muddy-grey-colored desk, such as a small container of paper clips, a bottle of whiteout, ink, scissors, and an in-and-out bin stacked with papers he was sure his name was on somewhere. Mundane posters of teamworkand safety hung on the three of four walls. He turned his eyes from the lone gray small stapler gun that sat near the edge of the desk. An ink pen and sharpened pencil faced her direction.

it's quite boring in there, actually...

He had remained silent.

She raised her eyebrows expectantly.

He swallowed.

"Well...?" she pressed.

IMPATIENT

She has pretty eyes...

He opened his mouth and began to stutter. She interrupted him.

"You should be more considerate when speaking to a woman." She was back to wearing that stolid exterior again. She looked to the single window overlooking the parking lot.

"We're about the same age!"

"Again, considerate!"

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah whatever."

She rolled her gaze to his direction, now glaring.

From an outside perspective, this may have appeared as all kinds of unhealthy. To one: wasn't he just putting up with an abusive, possessive, and cruel girl that he knew? But then again, she dealt with an arrogant, constantly on-the-move, anger-prone boy whose reputation wasn't a star pupil's.

"Why don't you just go back to the thing about all this," he rolled his wrist, indicating the small room they were in, "so I can hurry up and go."

"Always in a rush," she observed about him. It's always go, go, go!

She eyed his legs from behind the desk, watching his thighs bounce rapidly, irritated.

"I can see that you're quite impatient. Does being in this room bother you?"

He narrowed his eyes, catching the taunting tone in her voice. Though she can be harsh at times, she is sincere with all she says, a truth he found he can hold on to.

At least it was never entirely boring. At least to him.

he's a little bit of a spaz.

"Hm...does something about being locked in a room with a lone girl, with nothing but a desk, put you on edge?" A finger rested under her chin, appearing as if she was deeply thinking. This time she sounded truly curious.

"Do you realize what you just said sounded like it was the summary of some kind of porno?"

She blinked. Obviously not.

"Seriously..."

Her lips slipped into a tiny pout. He dragged his gaze back up to her stony glare instead.

Complete innocence

Silence.

"Just get on with it," he sighed.

The girl straightened in her seat. "So," she begun, "I am supposed to sit here and question you and perform some kind of sympathy act that would cause you to gravel at my feet, piteously spilling all of your woes and confessions to me," she answered instead, still in a calm manner.

"Gravel." That was a bit much...

"Therefore, causing all this to be over and for them come haul you away."

The boy's scowl deepened.

"But I'm not going to do that." She crossed her legs. She wore black knee-highs, he saw. "Despite what you may know of my father's good-doings and happy-go-lucky belief-speeches he speaks to the public, I don't believe in pity-motivation and such tactics that these shameful people who call themselves "good citizens" fall for. They only work on the weak."

His scowl softened.

"If you were a weakling, I'd no choice than to graciously place this pencil directly into that large socket of plasma," she pointed directly at him, "known as your eyeball. As, a weakling would be a waste of my time."

His brow twitched. He was sure she meant "gracefully," not "graciously." Though either way, he was certain he wouldn't think it grateful to have his eye gouged out.

He sat back into the chair.

"You aren't a weakling, now, are you, Mister Maximoff?" The cocky tint to her impassive features didn't go unnoticed.

He countered: "Still posing on their side, Miss Capulet?"

This time, she did smile, though it was faint and sly.

She became involved with the silver-haired boy following an accidental encounter not long ago. Though she would swear that the incident had been entirely coincidence and she had been made the victim, there has since been a chain of events that seemed to have been set off that caused the two to run into one another and bump heads. She has since grown on him.

Back to the present.

"Well I have to. After all, it was you who stole those files, now wasn't it?"

He went cold. How would she have known that?! More so, how would she have known it had been him? She couldn't have possibly seen him... Those files had been under lock and key in her father's office, where she said she never went.

He looked like a deer in headlights—it then dawned on him: She said.

He mentally smacked himself, his jaw dropping open.

Those files had been a folder containing the names of numerous alleged mutants residing in this and the surrounding counties, some who are innocent but many were charged with one misdemeanor or another. One of them was a report about a man being held deep inside The Pentagon, a news article from years ago. There was also a legal act being written up against the local identified mutants among the files. It was one of the things he had been bribed to steal by thee men—one with long, boney claws. The one who had enforced Pietro's escapade was the shorter of the trio who had the longest hair and short patience, who had been influenced by the one with the glasses that the files might have possible candidates for students or something like that—must be about that card Pietro had read before. The impatient one had been only after the Pentagon file, however.

They were to come back next weekend for his alleged prison break mission.

But those documents had nothing to do with this interrogation. He was here because he was accused of several misconducts. Well, actually hedid do them. The faculty are just trying to prove him guilty.

She didn't know he was mutant.

He regained himself, cleared his throat. "What are you talking about?"

Eyes narrowed, her cheek was now on her fist. "Really, Pietro...?"

Silence followed.

Her gaze remained on his, unchanging, unwavering her harsh glare. Why was she even concerned about it anyway? he wanted to challenge.

The room felt like it was spinning. Like it was all way too, TOO slow.

He wanted to run up the wall from the tension until finally, she sighed, placing her hands on the desk as if to stand. His gaze remained on her, heart raced momentarily.

"Ohhh," she moaned, stretched, "so I suppose you were wrong."

Then in one fluid, almost surprisingly quick, motion, she reached across the table and held the small stapler gun to the side of his face.

He hadn't even flinched.

"You are a weakling, Pietro.."

He could have easily moved out of her way but decided to let her gain the upper hand, taking the abuse.

She lightly clicked the button of the stapler and he felt the metal points press into the skin of his cheek. He knew that he could easily, quickly move out of the way even now, but also knew that he had half a chance of his move either working, the staple leaving two long streaks across his face as he ran, or her getting him another day. Either way, he knew that if he dealt his cards wrong, he'd have metal poking out the other side of his face.

The minutes seemed to tick into hours.

Following the first time they met, there had involved a quarrel, several office supplies thrown, and a box-cutter.

He was surprised no one has rushed into the room by now to separate them yet.

"Now," she continued in her familiar, calm manner, "I'm going to ask you one more time..." She then winked at him, which caused an eyebrow raise from him. "I know you were the one who stole all those files containing my homework." There was that wink again. "You were just jealous that I was receiving higher scores and so you stole those files from behind my back."

It took him a moment, but he begun to see what she was doing there.

"Who did you give them to and what did they want?" she asked.

"This is a bit of a personal matter to be discussed here, now isn't it, Rainy?"

Rainy. It was the name her mother gave her which her father hadn't had a say in the matter. Pietro remembered the tattoo on her shoulder that complimented her name.

"No." Her tone was heavy now. "This is a far bigger concern than personal."

Yup, he concluded. She was referring to her father's—the town's soon-to-be major by the looks of the election—stolen files, some he was preparing to send to the government.

Pietro tried to ignore the fact that she was hovering over him while kneeled on top of the desk, a propped knee giving a slight peek under her skirt if he was to tilt his head just a little bit.

The stapler clicked against his cheek in warning. He was delaying his answer.

"Hm, because all they had to do is ask if they wanted help."

Now his eyes widened fully. Did she realize what she was inviting herself into?! An all-out war!

"No! Of course not!"

She looked taken aback. "Huh? And why not?"

Pietro paused.

Uh oh.

Red Territory

SHIT. What could he say to that? That it was too dangerous?—No. That is was top-secret?—that'd just cause her to press the details further. That it could put her life and family at risk?—she wouldn't care and would be up for "the adventure." That it only involved mutants?—certainly not!

"Because you're a girl!"

CLICK

Wrong answer.

Pietro crumpled between his knees, cradling his injured cheek in one hand. Above him and on the desk still, she stood on her knees looking down on him in more ways then one. Actually, it as more like she was glaring at the silver-haired boy.

She humphed. "And I thought you were a little better than that, Pietro."

He didn't, couldn't say anything after that.

A shadow of her hair was cast over her eyes. She clicked the stapler at her side again in warning, a single staple falling to the hard floor.

RED

She knew he would be growing angry, but didn't quite care.

She definitely earned an explanation from him after he would leave here. He wasn't planning to return to this school anyhow, and had made that clear in the few "goodbyes" he left several administrators.

Before he could utter a counter rude remark, she commanded: "now, admit you were the one who filled those gym underwear with the lunch pasta."

He remains silent.

"And that you also did that prank on Coach."

Pietro grunted.

"And don't forget taping that sign that said 'GIVE ME A SLAP ON THE BACK IF YOU THINK I'M A TERRIBLE TEACHER' on Mr. Genevieve's back."

He glared up at her in almost hatred.

"Hey, Maximoff. Don't you think I deserve an answer, especially after all this," came her unwavering voice as she swung her legs around to the front of the desk where he sat.

He was on top of her quicker than humanly possible. Her eyes widened more as he pressed her shoulders to the desktop. A hand was on top of hers that was still holding the stapler. Her legs had come from under her, now tangled with his. She could swear he was trembling slightly.

Pietro gritted his teeth. He was definitely angry now. "Fine, I admit it! What do you want from me!"

She blinked, quiet for several moments. "Just that. So, nothing anymore."

He then realized what he'd just admitted to, and kicked himself on the inside.

"You just confessed to them." She turned her head to the only door, otherwise unmoving from her back to the desktop. "Looks like our time here is finished..".

IMPULSIVE

He looked stunned.

"Now if you're finished with your perverted antics, at least take me to dinner first."

He jumped away from her as if stung.

Rainy stood slowly, brushed herself off for good measure.

"Remember our talk at the park. And I can't go around helping those who hide and steal from me; at least pick one of the two. And to be honest, it's easier for me to help with something more personal. After all, it's simpler."

"Simpler...?"

"Yes." She turned away, listening with an ear to the door. "Sounds like the deans are coming for you now. This will of course be picked up after your condemn?"

Couldn't she have used a different word—punishment, convict, sentence?—anything than something that meant earning the death penalty?

He was going to have to meet her somewhere far away from nosey ears. He couldn't explain everything, but he would what he could. He still contemplated revealing that he was a mutant.

Pietro rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

She smiled a little, winked.

A/N: If there are any words of concerns or preferences or questions, please by all means tell me. Please tell me what you think of this OC. Like her? Hate her? Change something about her? What? Do you want me to write more of them or perhaps an entire fic? Was this not enough and should I do another, more detailed one? Was it just "ok?" I might just add another, so you just might want to stay tuned.

Reviews are very important because without them it looks as if people have lost interest in the story. Reviews are literally what gets me up and doing things in the morning and what convinces me the story is any good. And more reviews equals more updates.

EDIT: You can skip to the first break in Chapter 1: Chagrin for a jump start. I still crave criticism validation, and approval.

Please don't be one of those despicable people who do not send reviews. Nobody likes them.