"So... Dennis Wilson is pretty dreamy, am I right…?" Peter trailed in the backseat, squished against Allie, who sat between him and Hank. She tightly kept her legs together as both men's knees were invading her space, at which point she ignored Peter's conversation opener and instead swatted his thigh. They were practically spread-eagle even though the dimensions of the rental weren't forgiving for such a position. She wasn't about to drive forty-five minutes with her thighs pressed so tightly together that she could drop a piece of coal in between them and retrieve a shining diamond in a matter of seconds.

"Why do you both have to sit like this?" She asked irritably, looking between Peter and Hank, who quickly adjusted themselves so that they stopped spreading their legs apart, relieving Allie of the cramped confinement. "Thanks. Anyway, I don't know- they're a little too uppity to be cute. Honestly it's just an old shirt. Still enjoy the music but I think I've graduated from them."

"Oh," He hummed, actually dissecting her words for a moment. "So you like the more rock 'n roll type of guys?"

Allie thought about it while wringing her hands. "I guess so. Mick Jagger is kinda hot. And y'know, the Stones are great."

Peter snorted. "Didn't peg you as their type. Say, have you ever skateboarded before?" It seemed his train of thought moved as quick as his legs did, which only seemed right. How could someone who ran as fast as Peter not be ridiculously hyper? It was like speaking to a chaotic ball of sugar rushes. His wall of Twinkies and Ding Dongs and Lemonheads were a fine testament as to why he was so loquacious. If she downed a gallon of sweets everyday, Allie figured she too would be smacking her head against the ceiling. But to mix that with a mutation such as his? It was a recipe for disaster.

The girl laid her head back and glanced over at him, finding that his dark eyes were trained on her while awaiting an answer as she sat there cracking jokes about him within her head. For just a moment she feared he was like Charles and could see her thoughts, though he would've already smugly flexed his extra abilities might he had them.

It was then that she remembered that she also had a form of telepathy, to which Allie decided to shamelessly take a dip into Peter's mind and have another look around. A couple new fears met her, like being afraid of the dentist and mannequins (one that she didn't see often), but they didn't intrigue her enough. So she pushed deeper before swiftly striking gold, executing her search all within a millisecond.

Looked like poor little Peter didn't have a good time watching Night of the Living Dead with his pals from school. So much so that he fled the theater, never speaking to those boys again and never daring to catch a glimpse of Duane Jones' handsome mug because it was always accompanied by the fright of the undead.

Not skipping a beat, Allie continued their back and forth.

"Nope. Have you ever watched Night of the Living Dead before?" She knew the film had left him traumatized and was waiting for a dramatic response from the boy, maybe a hyperactive whine that would have her rolling on the floor in laughter. Instead he surprised her by nodding coolly, trying to act like it was a five star cinematic experience so he didn't appear emasculated by how much it traumatized him.

She sensed the pang of fear over being embarrassed ripple through him. He didn't want to look bad in front of them. Poor guy. Allie figured she'd leave him alone, cutting the connection that momentarily tethered her to his darkest thoughts.

"Uh huh. It was really good."

"Okay can we just shut the fuck up for a minute," Logan said in a casual way, like being a dick was just a nonchalant form of endearment for him. "I wanna get this plan straightened out so no one is confused and no one royally fucks anything up."

His eyes lingered on Peter a little too long after his last words, making Allie fight the grin trying to take hold. The last thing they needed was for Peter to get cocky and compromise them by trying to do something stupid, like steal some unnecessary federal shit. Given the collection of stolen goods he'd amassed in his basement, Allie really wouldn't put it past him to try and snatch yet another possession to show off. The thought of him tossing a one-of-a-kind, original 18th century painting of George Washington into the trunk of their rental car flashed through her mind, making Allie smirk stupidly at her own invasive musings.

"There's this guy, his name is Erik Lehnsherr and he's a mutant also. His whole deal is that he can control metal. And so he is being held in a cell deep beneath the Pentagon, which means it's completely restricted and probably crawling with guys armed to the teeth," Logan explained while leaning from the driver's seat. "Hank is going to jam the security footage signal from inside but other than that, we are going in blind without any other help. We are gonna have to figure out the way down on our own."

No one said anything, prompting Logan to wrap up their cheap mission objective meeting.

"Capiche?"

"Got it," Allie said with a thumbs up, just as an excited surge of nerves rippled through her, which prompted the girl to breathe in deep in order to stay grounded.

This was actually happening.

And it was going to be okay. She kept mentally repeating it over and over. Everything's going to be okay. It's going to go fine. It'll be fun! She could feel her stomach retch at the lies she was force feeding herself. It might not be fun, but she could at least assure herself that they'd be okay and they would get the job done. Whether or not it was a good time didn't matter- they just needed to get from point A, to point B and to point C. Easy peasy.

Her stomach defied her again with a hard lurch. She ignored it this time because what else was there to do if she had no intention of backing out? Right. Suck it up.

Peter also jutted his thumbs upward. "Affirmative."

Logan shifted back to face forward and revved the car on. "Great. Right now we are going to head to the store because Charles is dressed like somebody's alcoholic uncle and will stand out too much amongst the civilized folk."

The Professor's face twisted in offense. "Oh piss off you fuck."

"Okay kiddies don't fuck around. I'm not playing chaperone," Logan called as the other mutants wandered into some thrift store called Maggie's Treasures. "I wanna be out of here in fifteen minutes! Also grab something for Erik, I bet they didn't let him keep his cute little villain getup."

It was one of those quaint places hidden away in a scrappy looking strip mall. Hardly any cars were in the cramped parking lot, which thankfully meant that not many people would be seeing them prepping their disguises for this highly illegal mission.

Charles hurriedly bounded over to where the suit selection was while Hank meandered through the men's aisle, leaving Allie and Peter who awkwardly decided the shoe shelves were worth peeking around.

As she scoured through scuffed up sneakers and tattered boots, the blonde stared through the gaps of the shelf at the other boy. He was mindlessly tossing a beat up running shoe between his hands, searching through the racks with boredom evident on his boyish face.

Allie figured some light conversation might help make the fifteen minutes pass by a little faster.

"So, uh, what's the craziest thing you ever stole?" She asked him as she admired a pair of gorgeous cherry red pumps. They reminded her of the ones she'd seen her mom wear to office parties or company dinners. She was two sizes larger than Allie, so the daughter never had the pleasure of stealing her mother's heels, as much as their shiny finish had her drooling for her own pair. Had it not been for her empty wallet, Allie would've finally fulfilled her selfish need for a pair of heels that she'd probably never get the courage to wear. Such was life for a teenage girl.

Peter sped over to her side, plucking the one heel from her grasp.

"It's about to be a human being," He admitted matter of factly. Then he held up the heel. "These would look amazing on you."

"So you're a shameless kleptomaniac and a shameless flirt," Allie observed, promptly taking the shoe back and placing the pair on the shelf again. There was a certain expression on his face that looked as though he was accepting a challenge, something that had Allie mentally sighing. Her words were far from an invitation of any sort.

She then walked away from him, deciding that the guy who was under the assumption that he could have anything he wanted didn't deserve to get anywhere with his flattery. He could steal as many television sets and Ding Dong pastries as he wanted but Peter wouldn't be getting anything from her. Inflating his ego for fifteen minutes in some shifty thrift shop was not about to occur if she had any choice in the matter.

So the girl waltzed over to the shirts section and began to palm through the stained and tacky blouses, thinking she'd evaded the other mutant. A small gust of air swishing against her back told Allie otherwise, as she felt Peter's presence right behind her. Now she could add persistent to all the annoying adjectives following his name.

"Hear me out," He said, snatching a cream colored, crocheted halter top from the rack before rushing to grab the heels again, returning in a second with the ensemble held up on display by him. "This worn together would be a ten out of ten in my expert opinion."

"And I think it would be an eleven out of ten if you wore it, in my expert opinion," Countered the blonde, who shot him a superficial smile and was about to abandon him yet again when suddenly the entire world around her blurred into a seamless stream of nothingness, just streaking colors and blinding light whizzing past. The skin of her face pulled taut and her hair flew behind her, creating a tight pressure along her scalp that was causing a nearly unbearable ache. A single millisecond later had Allie relieved of the strange phenomena, everything returning to normal as she felt a pair of hands leave her waist.

She looked over and saw Peter stepping away from her, confirming what she understood to have just taken place. That bastard zoomed her to the back of the store and into the middle of the lingerie section.

"What the hell," Allie yelped, brown eyes wide as she took in a startled breath due to the fright his speed had caused her. "Wh- why?"

Peter just reached over and pulled a lacy bra from the shelf beside them, shooting her a suggestive look. "One thousand out of ten for this one."

She slapped his arm, making him discard the garment with a frown pulling at his lips.

"I don't know who you are, so please don't touch me without asking first," She demanded in a low voice. Then she glanced at the bra. "You're such a perv."

"Is everything alright?"

Peter and Allie both turned, finding Charles standing there worriedly with a few clothing items draped over his arm. His glare was shooting icy daggers toward Peter, leaving the boy in a state of surrender as he raised his arms in the air. Allie put her hands out in the hopes of warding off any of Charles' suspicions, despite the condemning words she'd directed at Peter. He hadn't done anything wrong enough to receive punishment from any of the other men. Plus Allie didn't want to be the cause of any problems there.

"No it's fine, we are just screwing with each other. He didn't do anything," She reassured the man.

There was a silent exchange of tense looks before Charles concluded his showdown. He nodded hesitantly and strode away, heading for the cash register. Hank was already up there and checking out, throwing on a blue windbreaker and a denim bucket hat with the tags still on them. Allie smiled at the innocent sight of him. He was such a dork for someone so grown up.

"Do you like him or something?" Peter asked, suddenly beside her as per his super speed. His long hair fell back into place as she shook her head, cringing at the thought of her and Hank.

"He's like, so much older than me. No." Then she turned to face the boy with a bewildered cringe. "Why are you so obsessed with me right now?"

Something changed in his face the slightest bit, that spark of immaturity morphing into sincerity as he leaned toward her.

"Sorry. Tell me to stop and I will." He didn't seem hurt or wounded by her harsh inquiry like most guys were when their advances got rejected. His genuineness quelled the annoyance that had been amassing in her gut. Maybe he wasn't so bad if someone kept him in check.

"You don't have to stop, just... let's have a normal conversation that isn't about dressing me like a Playboy model. Convince me that not all boys are the same," She compromised along with a tired sigh. It got a chuckle out of him as they began to walk together up to the cash register where Charles was eagerly purchasing his suit. He seemed like a classy guy. Or maybe it was just the fact that he was British. Class and high esteem seemed to be the stereotypical aura that followed the accent.

"Gimme another chance and I will. Can I make it up to you?" He asked, sounding incredibly hopeful as he jutted his bottom lip out, beseeching her with his dark eyes.

"Okay," She told him defeatedly. "What do you want?"

He grinned. "The question is, what do you want?" Peter then gestured to the entire store as if presenting her with a grand prize. Allie rolled her eyes.

"You're not stealing something for me."

"I won't. I promise I'll pay for it."

"Mmm, alright," She muttered, searching around for something interesting. Everything in there was either musty or damaged in some way, leaving her sparse options. She could always get the heels but then again she didn't really want to buy one of Peter's 'Ten out of Ten' pieces. Even though he'd apologized, she wasn't going to overturn their progress and possibly give him some sort of satisfaction with the pumps.

So she evaded the shoe rack. The final place to search was the jewelry counter, which was up front by the cash register.

Allie leaned over and scoured the pieces beyond the dirty glass case. Most were gaudy and homemade looking. Big crystal rings and gigantic hooped earrings with leather tassels or dream catchers- not really her speed. Even friendship bracelets with random people's names were amongst the collection. Apparently they weren't scared to grab anything off the streets and put a price tag on it, though if they were lucky, a Melody and an Abby would miraculously find the two bracelets with their names on them and call it a sale.

Peter was right beside her as she lightly slid her index finger along the glass, skimming through everything until her eyes landed on a necklace. It was a dainty piece. Gold chain with little shimmering beads all around the length of it. At the center was a rose pendant made of a sparkling ruby that was surrounded by delicate gold leaves at the base.

He could tell she was transfixed on something as he came close, leaning over her shoulder to see what it was.

"That looks like something from Star Trek," He admitted as he pointed at a pair of Mod style earrings above the necklace, mistaking them for what she was gawking over. "If you want it then-"

"No." She grabbed his finger and moved it right above the necklace. "I want this one."

She could feel him smiling from beside her as he nodded. "That's nice."

It was. But it didn't feel right to make him buy her it. Especially since she spied the price tag that had '$7' scrawled across it. A bit much for a thrift shop, wouldn't you say?

"I really don't need you to get me anything…" Allie told him as she pushed herself off the counter, knocking into his shoulder that had been hovering right above hers. "Oh- sorry-"

"It's fine," He told her in quick amends for the bump. She took notice of his dimples for the first time since meeting him, finding that they beamed just as charmingly as his smile did.

"It's alright, really. It's not that much."

He put his hand up, signaling for the old, plump lady working the register to come down to their end of the long counter. At the same time, he wrestled a meek wad of bills from his back pocket.

"Wait, Peter, I-"

He cut her off as the cashier was close enough. "Hi, can I get the one with the red… thing- oh it's a rose. The one with the rose. Please. Thanks."

His finger tapped the glass above the necklace with such a speed that it made the fragile surface shudder the slightest bit. Allie's eyes widened and she snatched his hand within hers so that the impatient little shit didn't shatter the glass counter right in front of the poor old woman.

Thankfully, Delores- as her nametag claimed in a swirly, red cursive print- was far too senile to have taken notice of the way the glass had been audibly quivering beneath Peter's incessant finger.

Allie looked up at him as she tentatively released his hand, meeting his childish gaze with her narrowed glare. Delores slapped her hands on the counter excitedly, probably happy to have been making so many sales that day, which snapped the teenagers out of their staring contest.

"Will that be everything?" She asked as she identified the necklace. The cabinet door scraped loudly as she wrestled it open, a wrinkled and veiny hand reaching in to retrieve the jewelry.

"Yep," Allie told her sweetly. She watched as the woman's long, pink painted nails pinched the gold chain carefully, hovering it over the countertop as she fetched a paper bag.

There was a bit of guilt swirling in the girl as she tracked the necklace that weaved through the air by Delores' unsteady grip. Seven dollars was really not worth it, especially not that a total stranger was buying it for her. What teenage boy wanted to throw away seven bucks for a girl he'd never met before? It really wasn't necessary, even with him wanting to somehow fix his crude behavior from before.

"You didn't have to." She glanced at him with a tiny frown. He wasn't having it.

"I wanted to."

"You're just punishing yourself for being a weirdo."

"No, I'm treating you for putting up with it."

Allie rolled her eyes. "Same deal."

"This doesn't feel punishing for me," He said as he painstakingly watched Delores struggle to get the necklace in the narrow opening of the bag. She dropped the rose pendant outside the edge three times before she finally dipped it in the parting, then slowly folded the top for another slow beat. Each crunch of the paper bending had a grimace gradually climbing onto his face.

"Okay," Peter whispered, "Maybe it is a little punishing."

She couldn't help but choke down a giggle as she too watched the lady struggle at a snail's pace. Allie wondered what it must've been like for someone as quick as Peter to have to deal with abnormally slow people- or even just regular people. No wonder he seemed so impatient.

"I'll ring you up at the end, hun," Delores said with a glossy smile, friendly eyes wrinkling up beneath her turquoise glasses. She hobbled toward the register, unknowing of the fun the teenagers were poking at her. Allie wanted to slap herself for being rude, Peter was just really funny. So much so that it was tainting her with his offensive streak.

They both went to the register. Peter flipped through seven one dollar bills and pulled them from the wad, handing them off to the lady. It earned them another joyful smile from Delores, further hammering guilt into Allie for being mean to her. She slid the paper bag across the countertop to Peter, who palmed it and thanked her.

As they walked out, he flipped the bag around and opened it, retrieving the necklace.

"Here," He said, undoing the clasp and holding it out so that he could put it around her neck.

"I can handle it," She told him pointedly. Not so fast.

He gave her an understanding nod and tossed the necklace over, letting Allie put it on for herself. As soon as the clasp was shut, she looked down and admired the piece. It was perfect.

"Thank you, Peter." The girl hoped her gratitude showed through her smile and words. It honestly was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her in a long while. The shame ebbed away and was replaced with delight as she continued to toy with the pendant, tossing it over the soft skin of her chest so she could see the ruby sparkle at every angle.

The boy was about to say something when Logan stepped beside Allie.

"To be young again," The man grumbled, leaning to see what the necklace looked like. He seemed impressed by it. "Nice rock."

"Thanks," Allie grinned. Then she let her curiosity get the best of her. "How old are you, Logan?"

He didn't seem too eager to reveal the number. "The answer is depressing."

"What, are you one of those old guys that look like they haven't aged a day?" Peter asked.

"Yeah, like Clint Eastwood?" Allie chimed in.

Logan raised a brow. "Something like that."