Author's Note**
I get a kick out of writing these little notes. Anyway, I seem to have made a mistake and left our white haired buddy Pietro out of the pairings. . . or was it not a mistake at all? Muwahah...okay I'm done with that.
In another room in the mansion, unbeknownst to the X-men but beknownst to us, Pietro Maximoff stood before his father with knees that nearly knocked together. He had no idea what Magneto wanted and that made him nervous. There was no father-son bond between the two; the color of their hair was the only thing they shared. It amazed Pietro that he hadn't been able to convince Wanda of that. Magneto may not have locked him away in a crazy house, but that didn't mean they had attended Boy Scout meetings together. Which had been a huge disappointment to Pietro who still carried in his heart the desire to become a member of the blue uniformed troop. The thought of it brought a pout to his lips.
Frowning deeply, Magneto stared down at his boy and shook his head slightly. His children, needless to say, hadn't grown up quite as he had hoped they would have. One of them had continuously tried to kill him, forcing him to rearrange her memories. One did have to admire her persistence though. When she got her mind wrapped around an idea she was like a bloodhound on a piece of raw steak. It really was too bad she was crazy. Took after her mother like that.
The other child . . . well, there wasn't any use sugar coating things. The other child had the brains of a sea monkey. He had made certain that Xavier hadn't paired him up with anyone for one very important reason. He did not want the annoying brat to screw up and bring about the end of the world. After all, he couldn't very well control the world if there wasn't any world to control, now could he?
"Pietro," Magneto began, choosing his words carefully. "I have a very special job for you. It entails a great many things, all of which bear immeasurable importance to our mission here."
The white haired teen smiled gleefully; nothing pleased him more than being reminded of his own importance.
"I can take care of it no problem. What do you want me to do? Sabotage? Spying? BloodGutsMurderMayhem?" he buzzed almost unintelligently, his eyes widening like saucers. Magneto stared blankly at him for a few second. Okay, so maybe BOTH of his children were wack jobs. That's the last time he picked up a chick at a mental institute.
"No. . . these tasks are far more subtle. They need to be accomplished in a particular order, so I will be giving them to you one at a time. Do you think you can handle that?" He let some of his many doubts creep into his voice and saw the desired effect in his son. The boy puffed out his chest and nodded his head so quickly it was a wonder it didn't fall off. THAT would have saved the world a whole lot of trouble.
"I can do it! Just leave it to me," Pietro boasted.
"Good." Reaching onto the table behind him, Magneto picked up a bundle of envelopes held together with a rubber band. With a serious and stern expression etched onto his face, he held them out to his son, who accepted them with no small amount of confusion. "You need to deliver one letter to a different post office. Only post offices with the number five in their address. It is very important that every one of those letters gets to a different office. And no one must see you."
Pietro looked down at the plain white envelopes for a long moment. Delivering letters seemed like a pretty stupid task to him. But then why would Magneto give him a stupid task? Him, Pietro? Quicksilver no less! No, there must be some urgency behind it all, some great dark sinister plan! One that only he, with his amazing speed and chiseled good looks could carry out! He was going to need a phone book. Nodding firmly to his father, he took off in a flash and the wind that marked his exit blew a single lock of Magneto's hair back from his face. The master of all things metal shook his head.
"Dumb as a stump," he lamented. A moment later, from elsewhere in the mansion there came a blood curdling, high pitched, down-right girlish scream.
"WHO THE HELL BURNED ALL MY CLOTHES?"
Magneto sighed. "The world is doomed."