A/N: Are you ready? Here comes some fun-filled Jonda. Rock on, Jonda!! In related news, I'm trying to keep this all rated T. Read and review, please! ;-D

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Wanda fiddled with the clasp on the first aid kit that still resided beside her bed and then peered into the box of cheap plastic Band-Aids. She had already taken John to the bathroom, helped him brush his teeth, and she had made an attempt to wash out the little cuts her fingernails had put in his neck. A few of them were really deep, and she did feel pretty bad about that.

"Tell me if this hurts," Wanda instructed, placing a hand on his cheek and turning his face to the side. She briefly examined the crescent moon shaped wounds on his neck, then began unwrapping one of the band-aids.

"My throat hurts a bit," he said hoarsely. "You know, I ain't all that tough. One of these days you're gonna really hurt me."

"One of these days," Wanda scoffed, pressing the bandage to his injury. "I don't really intend to keep you around for all that long. I'm sending out the next ransom note today, and I'm telling Magneto to meet me tonight."

"What makes you think he's gonna come this time?" John asked, wincing slightly as she smoothed the bandage's edges down.

"I have my ways," she said, cupping his chin and lifting his face. He grinned up at her, and she forced herself to frown.

"Where are you sending the letter?" he questioned, while Wanda turned his face to the other side, taking out another bandage.

"Well, since I don't know specifically where Magneto is, I'll just send it to the Acolyte Base," she said, carefully covering his cut. "I guess they'll give it to him from there. It sort of worked last time."

"That's not very efficient," John remarked. "You oughta find a way to send it to him directly, or else you're just wasting your time. He won't get it with time enough to get here tonight."

"Are you stupid? If I knew where he was, I wouldn't even have kidnapped you," she snapped, like he was an idiot. "I would've taken care of this whole mess a long time ago."

Having finished bandaging his neck, Wanda sat so she was level to him and glanced over the cheap coverings on his cuts. "What makes you think he won't get it in time?" she asked, picking at the collar of the shirt she had given him to wear only a few minutes prior.

"Nothing," he said hastily. "It was only a suggestion, after all."

Wanda inclined her head, squinting suspiciously at him. "John," she said sternly. He averted his gaze. "John, do you know where Magneto is?"

"Nope," he said quickly, biting his lip. Almost… too quickly. "I don't know a thing."

"You know where he is," she said accusingly.

"No," he shook his head vigorously. "No, no, I really don't. I… I don't."

Wanda scowled, grabbing him by his shoulders and forcibly turning him so he faced her. "Look in my eyes and say that."

He peered uncomfortably up into her eyes. "I don't know," he said quietly.

"You're a terrible liar," she told him, still gripping his shoulders. "Where is he?"

"Aw, bloody hell," he muttered. "Dammit, dammit, dammit…"

"Lovely vocabulary you've got," she said sarcastically. "Now tell me where he is."

"I can't," he made a face, his gaze drifting up to the ceiling.

Wanda stared menacingly at him. "And why is that?" she asked, her voice on the edge of violence.

"I just can't," he said sullenly. "Do you know what he'd do to me if he found out I told?"

"Do you know what I'll do to you if you don't tell?" she threatened.

"Well," John twisted his lips to the side. "I'm not afraid of you."

"Don't you want to get out of here?" Wanda shook him a little bit. "Well, this is your ticket out! Just tell me, and we'll go down there and get rid of him, and then you're free."

"That's quite an appealing offer, but I'm not saying a word," he stuck his jaw out defiantly. Wanda fought the urge to punch him and decided to continue trying to reason with him.

"Why?" she demanded, not hiding her anger. "He's just a mean old man who ruined my life."

John nodded. "I agree. But he's a powerful, mean old man, and he knows things. I don't think you realize how dead I would be if I told you where he was. That old codger knows everything, and he expects me to keep quiet for him, after what he's done for me. My apologies but, I just can't tell you."

"Name your price," Wanda told him, releasing his shoulders. "I'm willing to bargain."

"Are you, now?" he raised his eyebrows. "How 'bout you untie me and—"

"No," Wanda interrupted, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm not untying you, and I'm not leaving you alone. Anything else?"

He smirked, his eyes looking up into hers, carrying a hint of something that was very not appropriate. She glared at him, her glare carrying the weight of an uncompromising 'Hell no.' "I can't think of anything else I'd want," he said, after a long pause, innocently shrugging.

"You're a jerk," she said angrily. "Why won't you just tell me? What did Magneto do for you that was so damn special?"

"He kinda saved my life," John explained. "It used to be when I got mad, I wouldn't be able to control my powers very well, and one night at this pub, I accidentally burned up some drunken wank who had one too many smokes and was trying to push me around. He wasn't that injured or anything, but his buddies were real mad at me, probably 'cause it happened in the middle of everyone. And probably 'cause I laughed, too. Well, I knew he wasn't gonna die or anything since I could control it a little. It wasn't even that big of a fire. And perhaps he oughta have been nicer to me; I didn't even-- anyway, his little buddies came over to me and tried beating me up, and it was maybe twelve of them against one of me, and they overtook me like I wasn't anything. One of them had a knife on 'em and must've stabbed me like twenty times. Then they tried to light me up like I lit their friend up, and I wasn't in the right mind to stop it, so I got a lot of burns, too.

"Well, they left me in this alley, right? And I was as good as dead, let me tell you. But then all of a sudden, this old chap pops out of the sky and asks me if I'd like to join his cause. He'd been looking for me, apparently, and watched me get attacked and didn't even do a thing about it. But I was in no position to argue, so I just said yes, and he healed me up. He used the iron in my blood to make scabs or something. Saved my life, he did. You shoulda seen the look on those blokes faces when they saw me again…"

"And then you came here?" Wanda asked.

"After a couple weeks," John said, licking his lips. "You see, Magneto was dead set on having me. Don't know how he did it, but he managed to turn everyone in my town against me, and I didn't have any choice but to leave. It doesn't really help when your pop is the firefighting chief and you're a convicted arsonist. Not too many people want to be on your side."

Wanda inclined her head to one side. "But I only saw a few scars on you."

John shrugged again. "I don't know how he did it."

"Here's the deal, John," she said slowly, measuring her words out carefully. "I really don't want to have to hurt you. But you're standing between me and my goal right now. And if you're not going to get out of the way, then I'm going to have to use… other, adverse methods. And you won't like it."

"You don't want to hurt me?" he asked incredulously.

"Shut up," she snapped, feeling the heat rise up in her cheeks. "Are you gonna tell me what I want to know, or do I have to get it out of you some other way?"

John looked off to the side, pursing his lips in feigned thought. "Uh, I think you'll have to get it out of me some other way."

Wanda glared furiously at him, and then shoved him into the wall by her bed. She got to her feet and feverishly began pacing the room. He had known where Magneto was this whole time and hadn't said a word. She had half a mind to waltz over and zap him to pieces… but she couldn't. He held the key to her vengeance. If only she hadn't already taken him to the bathroom! She had already given him one of her T-shirts, too, although she hadn't found any pair of pants of hers that he could fit in, and he was left in his lovely turtle shorts. What could she possibly do to get him to talk? Especially now that she had let it slip that she had no desire to harm him. Oh, how she hated herself for saying that; now he wouldn't want to tell—she would have to show him that she meant business.

"This is your last chance, John," she warned, stopping in front of him and placing her hands on her hips. "Tell me now, or suffer the consequences."

"What's the big idea?" he said scornfully. "To torture it out of me? I hate to tell you, but that won't work. I been through a couple a methods myself, you know; ole Magneto has us go through a bit of torture every now and again just in case a situation like this ever arose. Who knew it would actually arise one day?"

Wanda stared at him, unexpectedly inspired. "I like your thinking, John," she declared, bending down by her bed and searching underneath it.

"Huh," John sounded amused. "I've never heard that one before." He frowned, realizing. "…aw, bollocks."

Wanda had a small chalkboard in her hand. A bit flushed, she sat beside him on the bed and roughly shoved him again, so he fell onto his face on the floor.

"Oof," he groaned as he landed, turning his face to try and see where she was, and what she was doing with the little board. Wanda knelt down beside him, feeling oddly satisfied to know that she had the control here.

"What're you gonna do?" he scoffed, though she could hear the apprehension in his voice. "Hit me with it?"

"No," she smiled innocently at him, enjoying the confusion in his expression. She met his gaze, and then she drew her fingernails slowly across the chalkboard. The chalkboard emitted a loud, ear-splitting screech that instantly gave her a migraine.

She heard him curse, and he visibly cringed, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. Wanda bit her lips, scratching on the board again, moving it slightly closer to him. She felt a throbbing pain in her temples, but did it several more times for good measure, hoping it was affecting John as much as it was affecting her.

"Where's Magneto?" she demanded, gritting her teeth.

"I'd tell you if I could," he shook his head, cracking one eye open to peer up at her.

Frustrated, she bopped him on the top of the head with the chalkboard, as it was giving her way too much of a headache; perhaps she would come back to it later if necessary. Both of his eyes opened and he smiled broadly at her. Wanda frowned and hit him on the head again, a bit peeved that he wasn't even saying "Ouch" or reacting. She paused for barely a moment, and then whapped him lightly on the rear end with the board.

John raised his eyebrows, looking extremely surprised. "Good heavens," he commented, stifling a grin. "I see you've gone back to that whole 'spanking' thing."

Almost reflexively, Wanda slapped him on his cheek, on the side of his face that was pointed up toward the ceiling, being that he was lying on the floor. "Be quiet," she told him. She thoughtfully set the little chalkboard down on the floor, and after a beat of hesitation, she leaned over him in such a position that he could not see her face.

"Wha—?"

She waited a beat, and then gave him a light poke in his side. He shifted away, the corners of his mouth imperceptibly curving upwards. Hiding a grin, Wanda prodded him again, just to be sure.

"Cut that out," John told her, twisting his body away from her and stifling a smile.

"Are you sure you don't want to tell me now?" she asked kindly, as if this were a polite request and not an almost threat.

"What're you doing?"

She gently pinched him on the side, and when he tried to reposition himself, she began to lightly pinch and squeeze his midsection, making sure not to get him where he had been bruised. He burst into laughter and tried to squirm away, which was impossible because of his position and how he was tied.

If only she hadn't already taken him to the bathroom; then she would have really had something to hold over his head!

"Talk to me, John," she instructed, placing her chin on his shoulder so she could speak in his ear. She didn't want to have to speak too loudly over his giggling.

"Well, I—ha—can't," he sniggered, "if you don't—HA HEE HEE—stop!"

Wanda inclined her head, pleased. She remained leaning over him, her cheek grazing against his as she turned her face to look at him. "Yeah?" she pressed.

John sighed with relief and rested his forehead against the carpet. Wanda waited for a moment, and re-asked, "Well? Tell me, already." Patience had never been her strong suit.

"Oh," he said calmly. "It seems that I have forgotten what you want to know."

"Dammit, John!" she bellowed, not caring that she could be deafening him from such a close range. "WHERE IS MAGNETO?!?!"

"Oh, that. Sorry, I can't tell."

Wanda glared murderously at him, and promptly began to tickle him again. But it was hard to stay angry when he was laughing like that. She had never known that laughter could be so very contagious. There had never really been much hilarity at the asylum.

After about a solid ten minutes of torturing him with tickling, she stopped again, watching him somehow pant and laugh and cry all in one moment.

"Come on, John," she persuaded, one hand still on his side, just in case.

He coughed weakly. "Come on, Wanda," he said, imitating her tone. "Magneto will find out." He giggled helplessly. "That mad hatter's got spies everywhere—I don't know how he does it."

Wanda watched him for a moment and then leaned closer to his ear. "I don't think anyone else is here, John."

"Yeah, well, that's what he wants you to think," John declared.

She sighed in exasperation and continued tickling him, not really feeling guilty because as far as she could remember, tickling wasn't even painful, but it certainly could render a person powerless, which was exactly what she was going for. In fact, instead of being consumed with guilt, she was feeling fairly entertained.

She finally ceased this "torture" when she noticed that his body was heaving in such a way that indicated that he might throw up, and that was something she just did not need to happen, especially on her room floor.

While he recovered, she tried to search her brain for more things she could do to him to make him want to tell her where Magneto was. Or at least, convince him that they were alone.

Hmm… the smell of Toad? No, too cruel… Fred in a bikini! No… that was even crueler… what could she do? She didn't want to actually physically torture him, and since he had said Magneto had trained them all in that aspect, it would be worthless anyway. What was something that Magneto might not have trained them against? Definitely bad sounds, and definitely tickling, but what else?

Wanda carefully pushed him over, rolling him onto his back so she could see his face and better judge his reactions. She carefully maneuvered his arms in such a way that they did not painfully press into his back.

"What did Magneto train you guys in?" she asked, pressing her hand on his forehead so he could not sit up.

"Uh, the traditional stuff," he said, sounding a bit nervous now that she had him almost flat on his back with no way to defend himself if necessary. Not to mention the fact that she was questioning him about torture.

"Pain?" she clarified, and he gave the best nod he could, given the circumstances and position he was in.

Wanda nodded to herself. Pain. She knew a fair share about pain. Well, if she was trying to really get to him, she would have to torture him in a way that didn't deal with pain, a way that he didn't know how to handle. What was the opposite of pain?

…pleasure?

Wanda felt herself blush. There were only a few things she could think of that involved giving pleasure, and they all were a bit demeaning to a person's character. But if it was her only hope of finding out where he was… and she just had to figure out where Magneto was. Then this would be all over. It was worth it, wasn't it? And she was positive that he would have kept this away from his Acolytes. Magneto was a man that believed people shouldn't have emotions, who believed pleasure and all those good emotions were weak. He would never, ever subject his minions to those weak emotions. Of course. That was the key here.

"Are you sure you don't want to just tell me where he is?" Wanda asked quietly, feeling her heart pattering violently in her chest.

"I can't," he said simply, attempting a shrug.

She bit her lips and sighed, halfheartedly resting her hand on his shoulder, making sure that her fingertips brushed against his bare neck between the crooked band-aids. She really didn't know how to go about this, being that every relationship in her past had been completely abnormal. And none of them had been romantic in any way.

John squeezed his eyes shut, probably thinking that she was going to strangle him again, or something violent like that. Wanda took this opportunity to lean up close to his face, and after a brief moment of thought, she swiftly kissed him, feeling him gasp with surprise beneath her.

She drew back a fraction; far enough so that she could make eye contact, but close enough that she could still feel the tiny tingles of energy between their lips.

John's eyes were wide and blue and shimmering with surprise and attraction. She grinned, delighted that she could do this to him, that she could shock and please him in such a way—for a moment, Wanda forgot why she was supposed to be doing all this.

She slowly, carefully ran her hands along the sides of his body, her thumbs moving smoothly across his rib cage on the way down and coming to a stop on either side of his hip bone. Her mouth came into contact with his again, this time more heated and prolonged than before. He squirmed underneath her, as if he was trying to break his hands free. But he couldn't.

When Wanda felt his lips and his body begin to react to her, she knew she was going to be successful. She pulled back from his mouth and pressed a kiss onto his cheek, then back further, on his jaw line, and then on the side of his abused neck.

"You're playing games with me," he breathed, trying to get his arms free again.

"Don't be silly," she whispered against his flesh, finding her way back to his mouth and kissing him fiercely again.

"I know what you're doing," John murmured, muffled by the woman on top of him. She propped herself up on one elbow, and the thumb of her other hand slid leisurely beneath the elastic waistband of his innocuous turtle patterned shorts. He inhaled sharply, his body tensing and reacting, even though it was only her thumb softly grazing against his pubic bone, the lightest of touches.

"Tell me where Magneto is," she instructed.

He groaned pitifully, closing his eyes so she wouldn't be able to see what was behind them. "Oh, come on…" he complained miserably. "Why are you doing this to me? Why me? Of all the bloody people in the world..."

"Just tell me where he is," she suggested calmly, her hand traveling slightly lower.

"Wanda…"

"John," she pressed a kiss against his collarbone, and he visibly swallowed. Her hand was now perhaps a fateful inch away from the place where she knew he wanted it to be. "Tell me, and maybe something good will happen to you."

He bit his bottom lip, his brows furrowing in desperation mixed with anxiety. "But…"

She fleetingly touched her lips to his, and her fingers grazed him just an inch lower from where they were before. "It's just me and you here," Wanda coaxed, praying that he would tell, because she was quite curious about what secrets the male anatomy held… oh, right, and she had to find Magneto, too. "It's just me and you."

He let out a soft puff of air, in resignation. "There's this little house at the corner of Walnut Street," he explained. "It's red and has blue shutters. When Magneto knows he's in trouble, he goes there and he hides in the basement. It's number is 471."

Wanda kissed him on the tip of his nose. "Does anyone live there?"

"Well…" John glanced anxiously away, and her strong fingers curved around him, drawing his attention back. "Oh… well, it's just this lady. Uh, she's a mutant, too, and she can change shape—what's her name… oh, Mystique. Yeah, she lives there and I'm pretty sure she's the only one, but once I saw a cat."

"Is that all?" Wanda asked, watching his face carefully for any signs of untruth.

He nodded, his bottom lip jutting out in a sullen pout. "Yes."

She pursed her lips, knowing that she had gotten the information she needed, but she also knew what she owed him now…

Wanda sat up, admiring the mild unease that she could see reflecting in John's eyes. She could sense that as much as he wanted her to do something, he was also vaguely frightened of her power, and all of the harmful things she had already done to him in their short history together. But Wanda knew herself, and she knew that sometimes, even when her intentions were good, things didn't turn out as planned. Like when she had tried to feed him those poptarts. She wasn't about to risk hurting him in such a terrible way. She placed one hand on his forehead, and gave him a final kiss on his mouth. And then, with the hand on his forehead, she knocked him into the world of unconsciousness, knowing full well that she was going to feel bad about taking advantage of his physical needs like that later.

But as for right now, she had a mission to go on. And it involved the destruction of Magneto.

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A/N: So, I was listening to some insane techno while writing this chapter. I never knew that it could help inspire THIS load of craziness. This just might be as drastic as it gets. Be afraid, be very afraid… so, REVIEW, yes?