YOU CAN RUN . . .

BUT YOU CAN'T HIDE

Chapter 3

(Disclaimer: No, I still don't own them. So stop asking!)

(Author's note:  One scene here was inspired by a scene in Red Dwarf—if you know the show, you'll recognize it when you see it. Tee hee!)

Telling the Parents

They went back to Stephanie', stopping along the way to pick up a home pregnancy test kit.
"Results in five minutes," Wanda read off the box. "Ooh, Pietro, are you sure you can wait that long?"
"Shut up!"
"Be nice," Stephanie said. She put one hand on her stomach. "Baby doesn't like you being mean to Auntie."
"What baby? It's the size of the head of a pin!"
"That doesn't mean it doesn't have feelings!"
"Okay, okay!" Pietro grumbled. "Sorry."

"Is it ready yet?"
"You just asked that two seconds ago!" Wanda was more than a little irritated with her brother's impatience. "I told you, I'll let you know when the five minutes is up!"
"How long has it been now?"
She consulted her watch. "Twenty-five seconds. You still have four and a half minutes to go."
"Four and a half minutes?" Pietro squirmed in his seat. This was both the longest and the shortest five minutes of his life. He didn't want to know the results of the test . . . but he had to.
And then there was Stephanie, all excited, not realizing her life was over. She thought having a baby would be some sweet, wonderful experience. Clearly she had no idea what she was in for.
What we're both in for.
"How long--"
"Four minutes! Can't you read a magazine or something? Or go watch TV? I think Girls in Tiny Swimsuits is on."
"How am I supposed to concentrate when my whole future is being decided by a stupid batch of chemicals?" Pietro tried to reach for the test kit, but Wanda stopped him.
"Don't! You'll mess it up!"
"I thought you couldn't mess up this thing," he said. "Didn't it say so on the box?"
"Believe me, if there's a way to mess it up, you'll find it," she said, glaring at him. "Now sit there till I tell you it's done."
So he sat there.
For four minutes.
While Stephanie hummed "Rock-a-Bye Baby" and looked through a maternity catalog. (Where it had come from, he had no idea. Probably tucked into the test kit.)
While he waited, he prayed.
Please, God, please don't let it turn blue! I'll do anything you want! I swear I'll never even look at another girl again! Just please, please let me off the hook this one time!
"It's changing color!" Wanda announced.
"What color?" Pietro nearly fell off his perch on the edge of the tub.
"Yes it is! It's changing color!"
"What color?"
"Oh, Pietro, good news! Excellent news!"
"Oh, thank God!" Pietro started to relax.
"I'm going to be an auntie!"
The look on Pietro's face at that moment--Wanda wished she had a camera.

"So what do we do now?"
Pietro was still sitting in the same spot, frozen in shock. Stephanie, on the other hand, was ecstatic. She tried to call her parents, but only got the hotel answering service. But even that couldn't deflate her good mood--she left a message, and then waited by the phone for them to call back.
Everyone else just sort of waited around to see what would happen next.
"What do we do now?" Toad repeated to Wanda, who just shrugged.
This was not going to be easy, Pietro could see that much. When Steph's parents came home--if they came home--they were sure to blow up about this.
At him.
The one time I forget the condom . . .
"Let's go back to our house," Pietro said at last. "We'll figure out what to do there."
"What if my folks call?" Stephanie asked.
"Well, they'll leave a message, right? You can pick it up when you get home."
"Okay."
But when they got there, they had an unpleasant surprise waiting for them.
"Hello, Pietro."
Pietro gulped. "Uh, hi, Dad. What are you doing home?"

"Well, Pietro," his father said, "it seems my business has slowed down a bit, and I'll be working from home for a while."
Pietro took another look. It was the first time in years he had seen the older man in anything but his red and purple uniform. He looked out of place in double-knit slacks and a polo shirt, like . . . a king masquerading as an ordinary person.
And he'd be home with them? For how long?
Magneto noticed Stephanie. "You haven't introduced me to your friend."
Looking as if he'd rather be anywhere else at the moment, Pietro said, "Dad, this is Stephanie. Steff, this is my dad."
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Maximoff," Stephanie said, holding out her hand.
"It's quite nice to meet you too, Stephanie. And it's Lensherr, by the way. Pietro and Wanda took their mother's surname."
Interesting family Pietro had. "And where is she?"
"I'm afraid she died several years ago."
"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to--"
"That's all right. Well, make yourselves at home. There are juice boxes in the fridge."
Wanda spoke up just then. "Dad, I think Pietro needs to talk to you in private."
"It can wait. I'm sure Dad's busy." Die, Wanda, die!
"Actually, I'm not at the moment." Magneto motioned Pietro into a room off the kitchen. Two days ago it had been a storage closet. Now there was a regular home office set up in there. Was it just for show, or . . .
"What's going on?" Pietro asked, when they were alone.
"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" his father said. "Wanda did say you had something to tell me."
"Uh . . . it can wait."
"I'd like to hear it. Is it something at school?"
"Well . . . it did happen there. Sort of."
"Is it something I'm going to be getting a note from a teacher about?"
"No . . ."
"Well, then, what?"

In the living room, everyone was straining to hear the "private" conversation.
"Betcha twenty bucks he doesn't tell him," Lance said to Toad.
"You don't have twenty bucks!" the younger boy protested. "Actually, I don't either. Can we bet me washing your car against you doing my laundry?"
"Done."
"He'll never tell," Wanda gloated. "He's too much of a coward."
"WHAT?"
Toad turned to Lance and smirked. "I got four loads ready to go whenever you are."
The door banged open. "How could you be so irresponsible?"
"I . . . I didn't mean to!"
"I can't believe this!" Magneto stalked across the room and came to a halt in front of Stephanie's chair. "Is this true? Are you . . . in the family way?"
The poor girl was so terrified she could do nothing but nod weakly.
Erik turned to the rest of the group. "Upstairs," he ordered them. "Find something else to do till we get this sorted out. And if I catch any of you eavesdropping . . ."
They didn't need to hear the rest of the sentence. The boys flew up the stairs and locked themselves in their rooms, lest they be next on the hit list.
"You too, Wanda."
"But I'm family! Isn't this a family discussion?"
"At the moment, it doesn't concern you. When it does, I'll let you know."
"Humph." She got halfway up the stairs and then turned back. "I was the one who figured it out, you know. Mr. Clueless here thought it was the cafeteria food."
"Wanda!"
"All right, I'm going!" She went to her room, but left the door open a crack so she could hear the juicy bits.

"Honestly, Pietro, you can truly be a total idiot sometimes! Didn't you learn anything about safe sex or birth control in that health class of yours?"
"Well, yeah, but still . . ."
"But what?"
Pietro flinched from his father's angry words. He wasn't expecting hearts and flowers, but this was going overboard in a big way. Next thing, he'll pull the "I have no son" routine on me and--
Stephanie was crying her eyes out, even though Magneto hadn't said a word to her yet. Pietro sat down beside her and put his arm around her.
"Happy, Wanda?" he shouted up the stairs. "You just couldn't keep quiet and let me tell him, could you? No, you had to open your big fat stupid mouth and blab everything!"
"Well, you should have thought more about the consequences before you went ahead and bonked the first virgin who came along!" Wanda shouted down at him.
"Afraid to show your face, you little bi--" Pietro started to say, but Magneto cut him off before he could finish.
"Wanda, I told you to stay out of this! Pietro, sit still, and don't call your sister names!" With that, Wanda's door slammed shut as Magneto stalked back to his chair.
Stephanie was still crying. She felt like she had messed everything up for everyone, herself included, and now Pietro would be mad at her forever . . .
"You okay?" he asked her.
"No, I'm not okay! I'll never be okay again!" Stephanie blurted, then began a fresh round of tears. "Everything is all wrong, and it's all my fault!"
"Hey, hey, it's not your fault! We can fix this . . . somehow."
Even as his words tried to soothe her, part of his brain was saying What are you doing? This is Psycho Girl! The one you couldn't get rid of? Why are you acting like you like her?
Shut up, Brain.
"Whatever happens," he told her, "it'll be okay. We'll go through it together."
"No we won't," she said. "You'll leave. You always leave, all the girls warned me you would, but I thought that if you really loved me--"
"I do really love you."
You do?
Shut up!
"We need to discuss your options," Erik said, "once we've contacted your parents."
Stephanie shook her head. "I've tried already. I keep getting the hotel answering service."
"Where are they?"
"Somewhere in Switzerland, I think."
"What's the name of the hotel?"
"Chateau de . . . Something. Marc or Mars or Marsha or something like that. I can't remember. But I have the number written down here."
Magneto asked to see it. When she handed it over, he recognized it at once. "Chateau de Martel."
"You know it?"
"Believe it or not, I own part of it. Get me the phone."
Pietro fetched the cordless, and the older man dialed a long series of digits. He listened, then punched some more numbers. Finally he was able to get a human being on the line.

"Concierge."
"Bonjour. C'est Erik Lensherr."
The concierge switched to English. "Mr. Lensherr! This is unusual, sir, to hear from you so early in the season--"
"I didn't know your dad spoke French," Stephanie said. "Or that he owned a hotel."
Pietro nodded, wishing she'd get her hands out of his lap. "Dad has some property in Europe. Family money, or so he says--hey! Do you mind?"
"What? You had lint on your pants!"
"Oh."
Magneto turned to Stephanie and asked her, "What's your mother's name?"
"Genevieve."
"Her last name?"
"Oh! Mahoney."
The older man nodded, turned back to the phone, and asked the concierge to connect him with Genevieve Mahoney's room.

Thousands of miles away, Stephanie's mother was in the middle of a mud bath when an attendant came in to tell her she had a phone call.
"Tell them I'll call them back!" she said, and relaxed some more.
"He says it's urgent. It's about your daughter."
That made her sit up and take notice. "What's she done this time?"
"Perhaps you'd better ask him that. He insists on speaking directly to you."
Genny sighed. Stephanie never failed to mess things up, just when they were starting to go well for her. It was like she had a talent for it.
She stepped out of the mud bath, toweled off, wrapped a robe around herself, and then took the phone. "Gen Mahoney. Who is this?"
"This is Erik Lensherr. You don't know me, but my son is acquainted with your daughter. More than casually, as it turns out."
Genny rolled her eyes. "You dragged me out of the spa to talk about our kids knowing each other?"
"In the Biblical sense."
It took a moment for that to sink in. When it did . . .
"WHAT?"
They heard her scream as far away as the hiking trails.

"Mrs. Mahoney, getting hysterical won't help the situation--"
"SHUT UP! THIS IS YOUR FAULT! IF YOU'D KEPT THAT KID OF YOURS ON A LEASH NONE OF THIS WOULD HAVE HAPPENED!"
"I don't think now is the time to--"
"DON'T YOU TELL ME WHAT TO DO! YOU KEEP YOUR LITTLE RAPIST AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER OR I SWEAR I'LL HAVE HIM ARRESTED!"
Magneto had to hold the phone at least a foot from his ear to preserve his hearing. "As I understand it, the act was consensual. Believe me, I'm not excusing what they did, but we can work out--"
"WHAT PART OF 'KEEP YOUR SON AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER' DIDN'T YOU UNDERSTAND?" Genny screamed, and then slammed the phone down.
Magneto flinched, and then put the phone back in the cradle. "Well, that went well."

Maybe he'd have better luck with the other parent. Erik redialed the hotel, and asked to be connected with Stephanie's father.
"I'll get right to the point," he said, hoping the man hadn't heard from his wife yet. "You and I are going to be grandparents."
To his credit, Stephanie's father didn't raise his voice or make wild accusations. "When did this happen?"
"It was about a month ago, as I understand it. So there's still time for us to do something about it . . ."
"What are you suggesting?"
"I'm not suggesting anything. All I'm saying is that we should get together to determine the best possible solution to our dilemma."
"Are you saying they should have the baby?"
"That's one of the things we'll discuss. I like to think I'm open-minded--stop laughing, Wanda! You're supposed to be in your room!"
But Wanda refused to keep out of the way. "Why don't I get a say in this?" she demanded. "I'm part of this family too! My life will be affected in ways you can't imagine!"
"Stop being so dramatic and get upstairs!"
"But I'm the one who's gonna end up baby-sitting the kid half the time!"
"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," her father said. "Now let's not have any more interruptions, all right?"
He uncovered the phone. "Are you still there?"
"Yeah. Where and when should we meet?"
"How about at my house, when you come home from your trip?"
"Good idea. I'll be on the next flight home."

Stephanie was not pleased to hear this. "They're coming here?"
"I thought it was more convenient, where you're already here." She was staying with them for the time being, in Wanda's room. (Wanda was thrilled.)
"I don't wanna see them. I don't wanna talk to them." She put her head down on the table . . .
Pietro came in a moment later. "Is she asleep?"
"Must be the stress," Wanda said. "Her parents are coming here to talk to our so-called father about your future."
"They're WHAT?"
He passed out cold on the floor.

(More parental screaming next chapter!)