A/N : In case anyone's wondering where my Age of Ultron prompt got to - I'm working on it! It's just hard, as I've mentioned I don't really write Avengers. Stay tuned though, it'll happen.

In the meantime if anyone has any prompts or ideas they will be gladly received :-)

3.

"Kids!" Magda yelled down the stairs, "Up here, now!"

A moment later the thunder of both twins running up the stairs came, presenting themselves in the kitchen looking guilty as hell, having recognised that tone in their mother's voice that said both were in for it. To their surprise, she had smiled at them broadly and sat them at the table, pushed a wad of folded money over to Wanda, and took both their hands, squeezing tightly.

"Here's what's going to happen tonight" she told them, fixing each in turn with a stern look, "You're going to go out and have some fun. Wherever you go, you're going to stay there until at least an hour after dark, and make sure plenty of people see you there. Make sure you're noticed – Peter, if you have to cause a bit of mischief to make certain you're seen, that's okay. You've got thirty dollars there, I don't expect any change"

The twins exchanged a long, confused look, before Wanda had looked at the money laying on the table and said

"Mom, are you feeling okay?"

"Never better sweetheart. I just want you to enjoy yourselves somewhere nice and busy and public, okay?"

"With thirty dollars?!"

"You'll be late for supper, and Peter will need snacks. Wanda it's not every day I'll hand you cash and tell you to have fun, why are you arguing with me?"

A moment later, Peter had finally caught on, gave his mother a huge grin and jumped up from the table, pulling Wanda behind him to fetch their shoes, still protesting a little but swept up in the whirlwind that was her twin.

"First stop, Hamilton Arcade, then Galaxy Burger – is that public enough, Mom?"

"Perfect" she told him with a smile, bent to hug them both at once. Within a few more minutes they were gone, Peter chattering excitedly in his confused sister's ear, talking her round to how much fun this would be and urging her on, leaving Magda to quietly prepare herself, drop Lorna off at the babysitter, and gather up everything she needed for the evening's excursion.

She'd never been a PTA member, never even thought of going to their meetings, one of which was in progress that night. She could see the lights in the gym going on as dusk started to fall, could well imagine the parents and teachers gathering around Tupperware boxes of home-baked cakes, one-upping each other about their beloved offsprings' academic and athletic prowess. The idea of all that thinly-veiled bitchery filled Magda with loathing, could never see herself as one of those mothers, even if they would all be astounded at the quality of her baking. You didn't have a little cookie-monster like her son around for long before you became a heck of a cook.

Then again, she'd never really seen herself doing something like this, either. Feeling faintly ridiculous as she tied a black scarf around her head, pulled it up high to hide her face. Covered her eyes with dark glasses just in case, and hoped she'd be able to see well enough to do what she needed to. Checked her handbag for her chosen weapons, and ducked down low as she saw Mrs Carmichael exiting a Buick in the parking lot. Magda let everybody gather and settle in before she had dared to get out of the car and close the door as quietly as she could.

Checking around the lot one last time before she began, she took a deep breath and set about her plan. Carefully pulled a small funnel and a paper sack out of her handbag and surreptitiously unscrewed the cap on the gas tank of the flashy automobile that she knew Principle Weeks drove. She'd seen him around town often enough, had never liked him driving this hulking expensive car, wondered what exactly he was doing to earn enough to keep it. Fumbling a very little with gloved hands, she carefully emptied most of the bag of fine sugar into the tank, replaced the gas cap, and let out the breath she wasn't aware she had been holding.

The tricky part was next, but now that she was halfway done Magda felt a little more exhilarated than ridiculous. Imagined herself as a spy engaged on an act of espionage rather than a suburban mother proving a point and getting well-deserved revenge. She wondered what her children would have thought if they had known that with the aid of only a wire coat-hanger and a great deal of calm patience, their mother was capable of opening the door of a Buick with a satisfying little click. She placed the funnel and the remains of the bag of sugar carefully on the shelf above the dash, where they were sure to be seen. Was incredibly glad that the Carmichael woman had parked so close to the Principle's car – there was no way he could miss the tools to ruin his engine on display in her car.

Finally done, Magda returned to her own car, drove a little way before she had to stop and sit for a while breathing in shuddery little gasps, hands shaking furiously, unable to hold the steering wheel. At last, the shivers had given way to a little giggle, then uncontrollable delighted laughter. A small part of her wondered if this was what going insane felt like. Most of her really could not care less. When at last she was calm, she had wiped tears of laughter from her eyes, removed her scarf and glasses, and driven home with a smile plastered on her face, careful to stop off for some groceries and carry the bag with her when she went to pick up Lorna.

The twins had arrived home not long after, both of them beaming and full of the joys of their evening's exploits, Wanda bearing a pink teddy bear that she had won in one of the crane games at the Hamilton. Magda was glad she was not so grown up at 14 that she was shy about expressing her delight at the fluffy, happy-looking toy, squeezing it to her and prattling on to her mother about their time out whilst Peter took a quick nap on the sofa. They'd even managed to bring her change, which she hadn't expected, and it seemed they had both had so much fun that no more questions about the strange evening had been asked.

Questions had waited until the following morning, when a loud, official knock had rattled the door, and Magda had favoured the police officer standing on her doormat with a gracious and lovely smile, invited him in, and happily called both the twins up to the lounge to speak to him. Peter hung back a little – though he knew he'd done nothing, he'd had one or two run-ins with cops already and didn't enjoy them. The officer beckoned him in, said sternly;

"Siddown kid. We need to have a talk"

"About what?" he looked scared, catching his mother's eye and receiving a comforting smile, "We didn't do anything"

"Sure, sure… to be honest, this is pretty much a formality" the officer admitted, "We had a report last night of an act of vandalism, and the victim was pretty quick to point the finger at you"

"Me?! What did I do man? Or what did I *not* do, since I haven't done *anything*?!"

"You've just been expelled, haven't you?"

"Ummm.. yeah…. But…"

"I imagine you're pretty mad about that, right?"

"Well…" Peter thought about it, said honestly, "I was, but not really now. That school sucked anyway"

"So you wouldn't like to maybe get your own back on anyone?" the officer asked, encouraged him with a smile, glanced at Wanda "Or maybe your sister wanted to make someone pay?"

"I don't know what you mean, Officer Sir" Wanda said sweetly, "I wouldn't do that for Peter, he probably deserved the expulsion"

As soon as the policeman had looked away, she gave Peter an apologetic smile – of course she didn't think that, but it seemed to be the right thing to say. He smiled back, reassured her that he realised that. After a few more questions, the officer had put his notebook away and stood to leave. Magda rose to her feet with him and said

"Hold on – aren't you even going to tell us what this is about?" turning on the motherly charm with all her might, "If my children are suspected of something I'd like to know what it is at least!"

"Someone tipped half a kilo of sugar into the Principle's gas tank last night" he told her. It was all Peter could do to control the giggle that suddenly bubbled up inside him at the thought, "Really Ms Maximoff, I wouldn't worry. We're pretty sure we know who did it, but she tried to finger your kids for it. I had to investigate"

He shrugged again, shared a little eyeroll with Magda who laughed in a relieved way, resisted the urge to ask more. As soon as the door had closed, she returned to the lounge with a smirk on her face, leaned against the doorframe. The twins stared at her, Wanda again in deep confusion, Peter with an amused look of pride.

"You sugared the tank?" he asked, "Cool"

"Me?" she put a hand to her chest in a show of affronted innocence, "Why of course not! It was Mrs Carmichael's car they found the bag of sugar in"

"Mom!" Wanda burst out, aghast, "What if you get caught?!"

"Women my age don't do that kind of thing, sweetie, and the two of you have a cast-iron alibi for the evening"

Peter let the giggle he'd been holding in go, soon joined by the two women, and had only laughed even harder the following day when Wanda had come back from school and excitedly reported that Mrs Carmichael had been thrown out of the PTA, and that Principle Weeks had shown up on a push-bike that morning. Though nothing had been officially said, the entire school was ablaze with the gossip. Magda had never heard anything more beautiful, pleased to see that Peter seemed much more himself after that. She'd try home schooling from now on, but after the weekend. Just now, all she wanted was to let him enjoy the tiny scrap of triumph that she had managed to claw back for him, and hope that she hadn't given him any ideas.