A/N: Sometime last year I was watching X-Men: Evolution, and found myself wanting to see what would happen if Max and Forge ever got to meet. A tumblr friend expressed interest in the idea, so after finding out I enjoy writing askbox fic, I started up this one for her. Enjoy.

Reviews and crit are welcome.

IRONS IN THE FIRE

He knocked her over when he came barreling out of the alley, clearly looking over his shoulder as he was running instead of watching where he was going.

"Oh, geez, I'm sorry," he said, leaning over to help her up. "I shoulda been looking where I was going, I'm just a little lost and-" eerie laughter could be heard coming from the alley. "And, uh, I think I pissed off a party of psycho clowns."

Max glanced down the alley, then up at the guy. He was cute, in a kind of chiseled way. He had dark skin and sharp features, and she thought he might have been Native. He also was wearing clothes that seemed about half a century out of fashion. Probably one of those weirdo art-major types that thought living in another century would be fun. As if no internet was a good thing. The laughter was getting closer. She shrugged, and grabbed him by the hand, and started to run.

"W-what the hey...?" He protested as she dragged him down the street.

"Less talky more walky," she said over her shoulder, leading him through a few sharp turns until they reached a vertical train station. A train was just about to leave, and she stuck her hand between the doors. The sensor caused them to open and she shoved the stranger in, following right behind. The doors slid shut behind them and the train started to move.

The stranger had been trying to catch his breath, but the sudden motion of the train startled him, and he lost his balance, falling on his butt. Max held on to one of the rails and gave him a funny look.

"You okay there?" She asked.

"Uh, yeah," he said nervously, crawling into a seat. The train was deserted this time of night. "I'm just... a little lost, that's all. Well, actually, a lot lost. What city is this?"

Max frowned, confused. How could he not know he was in Gotham? Maybe the Jokerz had hit him over the head or something. "You're in Gotham."

"Uh-huh. Gotham. And, uh... where's Gotham?"

"...New Jersey?"

The boy nodded, thoughtfully. "No offense, but... this isn't like any New Jersey I've ever seen. What day is it?"

Now, Max was starting to get a bit annoyed. "January 3rd."

"What year?"

Max wrapped her arm around the rail so she could fold her arms while still being supported. "Okay, I get it," she said. "I've read about this on the 'net... you're doing that thing where you pretend to be a time traveler, right? That's what's with the get-up. Fine, I'll play along. It's 2053."

The boy went pale. "I'm... not pretending, no."

Max frowned even more. "Alright, you're cute and all, but you're not cute enough for me to waste my time on this."

"You think I'm-" he began to say hopefully, when she shot him a withering look. "Sorry. But, really, I'm not pretending. Last thing I remember, it was 2004, I was in New York City, and suddenly, bam, I'm in the biggest city I've ever seen in my life, being threatened by guys dressed up like clowns."

"And I should believe this, why?" Max huffed.

"Because," he said slowly, "this isn't the first time this has happened to me."

Max blinked.

"Let me explain," he said. "So I built this machine, and got zapped by it, and got sucked into this other plane of reality or something, and I was kinda like a ghost - I could see everything that happened around me but I didn't age or anything."

"How does that prove anything?"

"'Cause I got zapped in 1976."

"Uh... huh." Max nodded, clearly skeptical. "And... how did you get out?"

"The X-Men gave me some help, after one of their people got stuck with me."

Max tilted her head. "Who are the X-Men?" she asked.

"Aw, man, don't tell me they aren't around anymore!" The boy cried. "I mean, I doubt my friends would still be on the team when they're in their 60, but all that mutant rights stuff can't have gone THAT bad!"
Max blinked again. Mutant rights? What was this guy going on about?

Whatever he was talking about, she was starting to get the feeling that he really believe it. He was now hunched over, head hung, his hands laced behind his neck. Max bit her lip, thinking. She crossed the aisle of the train and sat down next to him, carefully putting at hand on his shoulder.

"Um," she said, "I don't know any X-Men, but I DO know Batman. He's dealt with time travel before, maybe he could help."

"Who's Batman?" He asked.

"...You're kidding," she replied. "He's, uh. A superhero. Who... dressed up like a bat."

"Oh," the boy said, then his face lit up. "Is he a mutant? He might be connected to the X-Men, or know what happened to them!"

Max tilted her head again. This was the second time he'd brought up mutants. "Um, no, he's human. Except for that one time. What's with this whole mutant thing? Why do they need rights or whatever?"

The boy looked shaken when she asked that. "Things must have gotten worse..." he mumbled. Then, he looked around the train car, making sure there was no one else sitting in a far corner or anything. Slowly, he lifted up one arm.

"You know," he said softly, carefully, as if he was taking a big risk. "Mutants." With that, his arm suddenly changed. The skin segmented, turned inside out, but instead of muscle, it was metal. Servos whirred as his arm morphed into something like a factory robot.

"Whoa," Max murmured, flinching back at first, worried this guy was secretly another killer robot like Zeta. But when he didn't do anything but sit there, she leaned in closer, reaching out to touch his arm, but stopping herself right as her fingers hovered over the metal. "

This isn't like any cybernetics I've ever seen," she said quietly.

"That's because it isn't," he said, equally quiet. "It's organic."

"No way," she said, taking hold of the arm. If she had been looking at the boy's face, she would have noticed his embarrassed reaction to being touched.

"Way," he said. "Like I said, I'm a mutant. In the 70s, I thought I was the only one, but when the X-Men helped me, I found out how many of us there are."

"Huh," Max replied, turning over his arm to take a closer look at it. "So, like, they're just a group of people with superpowers."

"You... say that like it's normal."

"Well, it's not exactly normal," she replied. "But there's a few. Most of the ones you hear about are either superheroes or supervillains, but I guess there could be people with superpowers living normal lives."

His arm suddenly reverted back to a normal human arm, and she let out a disappointed mew.

"But... there's no one trying to throw all mutants into jail, or a crazy guy trying to destroy normal humans?"

"Dude," Max said, looking up to meet his eye. "I have no idea what you're talking about, but I don't remember ever reading about anything like that in history class."

"Hmm," he said, running a hand over his stubbly chin. "That's... huh. The X-Men were always showing up in the news and stuff, I don't know why they wouldn't even be mentioned."

"Maybe," Max said, an idea coming to her. "Maybe you didn't just time travel? You said you saw everything when you got trapped in the 70s... did the same thing happen this time?"

"No?" He replied, not quite following what she was getting at.

"Well, what if it wasn't just time travel? Astronomy's not really my thing, but I remember reading about wormholes, and alternate realities and stuff. What if that's what happened?"

He scratched his chin. "Maybe," he said slowly. "I mean, I know for a fact different dimensions exist. Maybe it's something like Kurt's teleporting."

"I have no idea who that is, but okay? Like I said, I'll take you to Batman, maybe he can help."

"If you say so," he said. "I don't really know what a guy who dresses up like a bat can do." He was grinning. And it was a really cute grin - it wasn't really fair. She smacked him in the arm, and the grin feel as he mouthed a silent 'ow'.

"Don't get smart on me," she said with a grin of her own.

"Can't help it," he shrugged, "I'm kind of a genius."

"Really? Well, I'm definitely a genius."

"Yeah? Does Ms. Genius have a name?" He said, raising his eyebrows slightly.

"Max," she said, holding out a hand. "Max Gibson. And does Mr. Genius have a name?"

"Call me Forge," he shook her hand. For a guy with a robot arm, his hands were surprisingly smooth. Though he had a grip like a vice.

"Well, Forge, welcome to Gotham."