"Able Communication"
Author: Unanon
Written for the LiveJournal community "15minuteficlets" for the word 'translation.'
Fandom: Marvel Universe, Ultimates.
Characters: Pietro Maximoff aka Quicksilver.
Pietro shifts in his seat uncomfortably and glances again at the wall clock half-obscured behind Steve Rogers' huge blond American head. Fury has been speaking for twelve minutes and thirty-seven seconds already and, given the man's habit for reiterating what he considers salient points, Pietro expects him to continue droning on for at least five minutes longer. How utterly tiresome.
A gentle squeeze near his right knee makes his jaw relax slightly. Wanda's eyes are resting attentively on Fury, but when Pietro looks he sees her lips are curved into the sort of amused smile that says "patience, dearest. These imbeciles couldn't possibly drag out this nonsensical briefing much longer." He releases a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding; Pietro wouldn't be capable suffering these fools were it not for his beloved Wanda. He covers her hand with his and wills his features into an acceptable blend of boredom and readiness.
He scans the assembled team with carefully schooled languidness, pausing again at the carefully trimmed head of wheaten waves near the clock. Rogers hangs on Fury's every word, lips compressed into the determined line he adopts for every situation, whether it be a matter of global security or deciding which tie to wear to one of Tony's booze-soaked fundraisers. The man's apple pie earnestness is as sickening as the careful even tone of his speech. Captain America's actions are always deliberate and well timed; though Pietro can appreciate his mechanical fluidness on the battlefield, Rogers' plodding day-to-day intensity is annoying at best. His movements have purpose and when he opens his mouth to speak, people stop and listen.
Everything just seems to come to Rogers so easily. It makes Pietro sick.
Pietro has always had difficulty making himself understood clearly. His feet weren't the only things about him that moved with lightning speed, and only many years of careful tutelage at his father's impatient hand enabled him to slow his speech enough to convey even the simplest ideas. Glibness was easy when one's thoughts darted about so swiftly, and Pietro was the king of barbed comebacks; however, conversations on more complex topics were another obstacle altogether. For Pietro, divergent pathways of information warred with boredom, and he became more skilled at flippancy than at heated debate. Magneto lost interest gravitating toward Wanda and her much more refined conversation. Pietro sometimes wonders if the man wouldn't have been as happy shooting off his son's tongue as his kneecaps.
As if to punctuate the memory of his recent injury, Wanda's fingers clench urgently beneath his. Pietro's focus alters and he becomes aware that his gaze has seemingly been resting on Captain America for some time, and the apparent attention has not gone unnoticed. Pietro decides that bemusement suits Rogers quite well and lifts a slow, scornful eyebrow before turning his attention politely toward the still prattling Colonel Fury.
Let him interpret that in any way he likes.
