I do not own X-Men: Days of Future Past

I am slightly obsessed with it though. Obviously.

Through Eyes of Orange and Blue

Chapter 4: The Silver-Haired Nitroglycerin Tablet

Hank sat in the rental car quietly, watching the scenery go by. He'd never been in this neighborhood before. It was different yet the same as all the others he'd seen. He thought he liked it.

He'd flown them in Charles' private plane from New York to Washington, D.C. in just under an hour. And listened to the silence sit in the plane with them.

But now . . .

Charles and Wolverine bickered continuously, sounding almost like a little old married couple. In a way, it was good to hear. The life between them, the interaction. Almost like being off on a family vacation.

If it was a really bizarre family.

The house they stopped at looked just the same as any other. Hank read the name on the mailbox as they approached the front door.

'Maximoff'.

Max - I'm - Off?

As Logan knocked on the door, Hank glanced down at the welcome mat which appeared to have . . .

Are those . . . scorch marks?

The anxious woman who answered the door seemed suspiciously immediately. Hank tried to smile in what he thought was a friendly manner, unsure of how this was going to go.

"What's he done now?"

Yep, right house.

"Or I can just write a check for whatever he took," she offered hopefully.

I actually prefer cash.

"We just need to talk to him," Logan answered amicably.

She nodded in resignation then called into the house.

"Peter! The cops are here. Again."

They were finally escorted through the living room of the house. A little girl in a pink princess outfit complete with tiara watched their advance with big, curious eyes.

"I'm a princess," Hank heard her say to Logan. "What are you?"

"I'm the Wolverine," he responded menacingly, barely slowing down.

Hank followed him, slightly abashed at Logan's gruff interaction with the child. She switched her gaze silently to him as he walked past.

Hello. I morph into a big, blue teddy bear with orange eyes and claws. Nice to meet you.

Then Ms. Maximoff broke his train of thought, requesting to her daughter to head upstairs to play with her big sister.

"Twins," she said, somewhat absently to Charles.

Wow, two of them. I wonder if she's got powers too.

Hank's first consideration as he descended the steps behind Logan into the basement was that it was a hive of activity, music, and noise. His second was that he could be quite comfortable here just relaxing and observing all the activity of the silver haired nitroglycerin tablet of a teenager they found themselves in the presence of.

The boy was playing Ping-Pong against himself. And winning. Or losing. Depending on your perspective. He seemed to warp back and forth from one end of the table to the other. Hank tried to keep up with his movements, the scientist in him jumping up and down with excitement and glee at this new mutant discovery.

"What you guys want?" The kid spoke so fast all his words ran together. "I didn't do anything!"

Then he disappeared, the paddle and ball dropping to the floor, and reappeared stretched out comfortably on the shabby couch behind them.

"I've been here all day."

Logan spoke, reassuring the kid to relax, telling him they weren't police.

"No, you're not cops," the kid verified cooly, as if this were quite obvious. "Of course you aren't cops. If you were cops, you wouldn't be driving a rental car."

Thirty seconds into the basement and Hank's mind was already happily humming with scientific observations and inquires. Charles just seemed frazzled and annoyed.

"How did you know we were in a rental car?"

You go for it, Charles. I'm not going up against this kid. No way.

"I checked your registration when you were . . ."

And he was off again.

Hank let him go, letting the flow of words wash over him like a continuous tidal wave. He'd already decided he was going to listen for key words and phrases to latch onto instead of trying to run and keep up with every nuance and syllable. It would be much less exhausting and frustrating that way. And much easier to observe him and his powers.

Suddenly, Peter vanished and reappeared behind Charles, holding his wallet in hand, a card already out of it.

"No, you're not cops," he verified, continuing to spout words at an exhausting speed.

Hank gazed at him in genuine delight as Charles leaned over, checking his pockets.

"Hey, what's with this 'Gifted Youngster's' place?"

And quick as a wink, Peter was gone again, the wallet and wrinkled card falling from empty air to the Ping-Pong table.

Charles reached for his belongings, his movements and tone irritable. Hank briefly wondered if the boy's hyperactivity was playing havoc with Charles' oversensitive sensory circuits. Having not been out of the manor much lately and quite possibly beginning to experience the world without his alcohol shield, Charles was undoubtedly feeling a little raw behind the large, amber sunglasses he was wearing.

"Well, he's fascinating!" Hank exclaimed, unable to entirely suppress his scientific glee.

"He's a pain in the ass," Charles remarked boorishly.

Yeah, well, so are you.

"He's what? A teleporter?" Hank inquired of Logan.

"No, he's just fast," Logan replied, seemingly resigned to the situation at hand. "When I knew him he wasn't so . . . young."

Peter reappeared again, reclining once more in a different chair as if he had been there the whole time.

"Young?" he shot back, devouring the last of an ice pop Hank had never seen before. "You're just old."

Hank couldn't resist admiring his energy, his control, his aplomb. The kid was obviously enjoying himself.

"So you're not afraid to show your powers," Logan stated, not quite phrasing it as a question.

"Powers? Powers? What powers?" the smug teenager said, dismissively. "You see something strange here? Nothing anybody would believe if you told them."

Then in a burst of ruffling air, he moved unseen past them again to a Pong arcade game he very clearly did not own.

Hank was beginning to wonder if he was going to give himself whiplash trying to keep up with this kid.

I feel sorry for the mom.

"So who are you and what do you want?" the kid asked nonchalantly.

I bet the old Raven would want to call him 'Mercury'. She was good at naming people.

"We need your help, Peter."

Or maybe 'Quicksilver'. Yeah, that's good. 'Quicksilver'.

"With what?"

The kid seemed uninterested. Or maybe he was just playing it cool.

"To break into a highly secured facility," Logan admitted. "And get someone out."

"Prison break?" Peter said, sounding mildly interested. "That's illegal, you know."

Logan countered brilliantly.

"Only if you get caught."

The kid could not be shaken.

"So what's in it for me?"

Oh, yeah, this kid broke into and out of places all the time, judging by all the junk he had sitting around. He even had boxes and boxes of junk food stacked in a corner as well. Hank noticed a particularly appealing sugary snack.

Boxes and boxes of them.

Mmm, Twinkies. I love Twinkies . . .

"You," Charles said, sounding tired and irritated and playing their final card, "you, kleptomaniac, get to break into the Pentagon."

Aw, come on now Charles, be nice to the kleptomaniac. I mean 'Peter'.

Now they had the kid's attention. He even turned at normal, human speed and faced them.

"How do I know I can trust you?" he asked suspiciously.

Well, at least he's intelligent enough to be cautious.

" 'Cause we're just like you," Logan answered.

Well, sort of. Not really. Frankly, you kind of make me dizzy. And exhilarated. It's very complicated.

The kid didn't move, didn't speak. Didn't show any sign of understanding or belief. Waiting.

Without looking away, Charles spoke to Logan.

"Show him."

And Logan did. Three, long bone claws slowly revealed themselves, slicing through flesh between the knuckles of one hand.

I wonder if that hurts. It looks like it hurts.

The kid took it pretty well. His silver eyebrows migrated upwards a little and he seemed to take a slow, careful breath.

Then he regained his poise with a casual, "It's cool but it's disgusting."

And Hank knew then that they had him.

Hank still wasn't really clear how Peter's mother had been so easily convinced to allow her son to go with three complete strangers off on a secret endeavor.

It wasn't Charles, he knew. Charles was independently ambulatory which meant his mind control powers were still out of reach. All he could do was use his ordinary powers of persuasion.

Logan didn't threaten her though he could have tried. Living as the mother of mutant Maximoff twins, Peter and Wanda and apparently a precocious little girl as well (Hank was stunned that she wasn't more scared of Logan and his threatening physical appearance) might have toughened her up just enough to handle the Wolverine verbally.

Hank didn't say a word. He didn't know what he could have said.

Just a quick jaunt to break a mutant murderer out of the Pentagon, Mrs. M. Home by curfew, okay? By the way, think you can spare a box of Twinkies?

It might have been Peter. He said something so quietly and quickly to his mother that they had not been able to understand a word. But apparently she did.

And as a clincher, Peter Maximoff had slowed down to human speed and kissed his mom on the cheek and briefly hugged her.

For some reason he couldn't verbalize, that had made Hank want to hug her too.

He didn't.

Then Peter disappeared. They found him sitting in the car behind the passenger seat, decked out in all black and silver clothing, goggles, and headphones.

"Ready whenever you are, guys," he stated casually with raised eyebrows and an impish grin.

This is going to be fun.

Okay, before you think I've gone off my rocker with the Twinkie thing:

1) In the comics, Beast/Hank loved Twinkies.

2) They did a nod to that in FC during the Raven/Hank 'take the blood' scene.

3) There were Twinkies in Peter Maximoff's basement.

4) Youtube 'Hoult Amazed by Twinkies'.

5) Finally . . . dudes, they're Twinkies!

Yep, the third section of this chapter is conjecture and not in the movie. Hopefully it still melds with the movie cannon enough for you.

Maximoff? In the original comics, Erik's first name was actually 'Max'. So, 'Max - I'm - off'? Yeah, I'm already writing a little Peter's mom one-shot just on that one simple thought. Heh, heh. Good grief, I'm a nerd. :)

According to the director, Bryan Singer (whom I really hope is not the creep they say he is, ugh), the big sister bit was cut from the movie but she does exist. Really? Would another twelve seconds have really sent us all over the edge, man? *Rolls eyes

Oh and shout out to fanfic author, Clownfood. If you enjoy Quicksilver fic, read one-shot "Ten Rules of the Maximoff Household'. Trust me, it's spot on and hilarious!

Many heartfelt thanks to Shanynde, angeleye02, lupoea2, brigid1318, theFGnat, lol, MoonlitShadowsoftheHumanSoul, and Remember the BadWolf for your enthusiastic reviews.

Thanks so much to de cineribus renascitur, Live4dancing, and Brianca for adding your support to this retelling as well.