Pietro and Wanda (Backdated)

[x-scarletwitch.livejournal.com]

The morning--afternoon--after Wanda and Stephen's breakup, Wanda appears on Pietro's doorstep. He's as sympathic as only Pietro can be.



Pietro tossed the remote onto the couch irritably and settled back i his chair. Nothing on TV. It was even a slow news day. He didn't fee like going out, and there was nothing particularly interesting happening on the journals, either. It was shaping up to be remarkably boring evening.

After she knocked on the door, Wanda didn't bothered to wait for th come in. She pushed it open and then eyed her brother. "You look rather bored." And she looked like hell, even after a shower, a nap and some food. The hangover was stubborn, clinging to the edges, which shouldn't have surprised her. It felt like she'd drank the entire bar dry the night before.

"Do you really want to start the conversation about what we look like?" Pietro asked her, one eyebrow raised. "Because I'll tell you right now, it's not one you can win." He took a closer look, and th other eyebrow went up. ". .. Wanda, what's wrong? What's happened?"

"Besides potentially having liver failure after last night?" Into the kitchen, to rummage through his glasses. She'd killed the bottle of water she had with her on the way over and needed more. After a while she responded quietly, "Stephen and I broke up last night. For good and not like last, when it was because he needed to go into hiding Happened over a very delicious dinner, I might add, for all the goo it did us."

"Oh, Wanda, I'm so sorry. Here, sit down, I'll get that." Pietro was at his sister's side in an instant and a quiet gust of wind, reaching over her shoulder to get one of his few tall glasses. "How did i happen? I thought you two were happy."

The lack of arguing, good natured or other wise, was probably th biggest indication of how she was feeling. "Oh, happy, yes. Very." Sh ducked under his arm and head into the living room and then Wanda curled up on the end of the couch, resting her head on her hand "Well, under certain conditions. When we were able to see each other when we weren't swanning off to do our jobs. He'd been roughed up fairly well and I got mad that he didn't tell me. After that, w realized...if we stayed together, that would be more of an occurrence The arguing over safety. We'd end up bitter. Old and bitter."

"Aah." Pietro set the glass of water down on the end table nearest Wanda and joined her on the couch. "Probably best to let go now, then in the long run, while you still are happy. But in the short run . . . it hurts. I'm sorry. I wish it had worked out for you." H ventured a tiny smile. "I wasn't actually going to terrorize him very much, you know. Not more than strictly necessary. I was glad you had someone you cared that much about."

She laughed and reached for the water, pausing to take a drink. When she responded, she rolled the glass carefully between her hands, watching the liquid sloosh back and forth. "Only a little terror?" sh asked and then sighed. "It had been a while for me." Wanda grinned a the look on his face. "Oh, not sex--and now I get to terrorize you for a while--but a true relationship. And I think it will be while now until I go looking for something like that again."

"Trust me, Wanda, 'celibate' is never a word I'd think to use to describe you." Pietro gave her a concerned look anyway. "Just don' write off the possibility entirely, hm? One of us ought to have chance at that kind of happiness."

"I won't if you won't." Wanda poked him in the arm. "Just because yo are crabby, grouchy and incredibly sarcastic..." She reconsidered "Wait, never mind..." Humor was a familiar hiding spot and one that she gladly went to. In the end, it was better than anger, tears o drinking.

"I didn't have the time and couldn't spare the distraction when I was with Father, and now I've forgotten how. On top of the aforementioned crabbiness, grouchiness, and incredible sarcasm." Pietro grinned a her. "But at least I'm not a shameless lush."

"Heavy on the shameless, remember that, but that part does tend to run in the family." Shaking her head mournfully, she laughed. "Ever single member of our family, completely shameless. Now, I am not sure who I inherited the lush part from. Along with the rest of our traits." Wanda tutted at him. "And forgotten? It's like riding bicycle, though if you tell me you've forgotten that I shall have to hit you."

Pietro snorted. "Yes, well, you remember the last time I rodejust before what little was left embedded itself permanently into that tree? You really need to work on your metaphors, my dear sister."

"...you know something? I really, really do. And that was such a nice bike at that. And thanks to you, I never did get to rid it." She grimaced. "Oh, well, that sounded a bit wrong."

Pietro boggled slightly. "Yes. Yes it does. I vote we stop the metaphors entirely. Besides, I stole that bike. I still thin you're deluding yourself about ever getting a turn."

"You always ended up actually stealing everything since I was the distraction," Wanda pointed out. "And there we go, one more thing of my list: turn my brother's brain into mush. Brilliant, I've got head start already."

"I'm always glad to lend my brain to the cause of cheering you up. Pietro flicked her lightly on the nose. "More water for you. Possibly also a breath mint. What were you drinking? Perhaps more to the point, what weren't you?"

"Stop that," Wanda muttered, rubbing her nose and then taking another sip of water. "I do not remember exactly. Something very old, very expensive and very, very potent. And a lot of it. My poor credit card."

"Wanda, Wanda, Wanda." Pietro shook his head, sighing. "Yo start with the good stuff, and then as you start to get too blurry to notice you move down to the cheap stuff. You get just a drunk and your credit card doesn't hate you as much. I thought you' worked that out years ago."

"I was treating myself," Wanda responded, finishing off he water with a flourish. "Besides, it was vital at the end that th drink be smooth. If it had not been..." She shuddered. "And look who is talking, Mr. Drunk-And-Sober-an-An-Hour."

Pietro smoothly replaced the empty glass with a full one and sat back down. "Drunk in an hour. Sober in fifteen seconds. And there's a mint on the coaster for you. I love you dearly but we could probably ignite your breath if we tried."

"Show off." It was said with amusement. "Maybe we can use that against our Father. Your speed and my chaos and brand new fire-breathing powers. I think we would win, don't you? Unless, o course, he wielded the power of the breath mint."

"With Father's sense of personal hygiene? I think we can confidently assume breath mints. I just wish he'd shared them with Toad. There' no halitosis like viscous-slime-with-side-of-raw-pigeon halitosis."

"Thank you, my stomach is not on speaking terms with me as i is." Wanda squinted and pictured Toad before shuddering, shaking off the mental image. "Fantastic, that's going to stick with me for days."

"If you throw up on my couch I'm dangling you out the window by you ankles until you're empty," Pietro warned her, laughing. "Recent breakup or no recent breakup."

"I rather like this couch," Wanda muttered, flopping down onto th back of it. "No, no I think I'd rather aim for your shoes again...though you aren't wearing any new boots this time so there goes some of the appeal."

"Well, if you throw up at all cue dangling, then." Pietro grinned. "I might do it even without the excuse."

Covering her face with her hands, she sighed dramatically. "I get absolutely no love or sympathy from you," Wanda complained.

"What do you call the water? I'm trying to keep you from getting hangover, you ingrate." Pietro blew her a raspberry. "Your trouble is I'm the one with the attention span in this family."

"That's because you do not want to see me with a hangover," she shot back, remembering how awful it was this morning. Poor Sofia.

"It still counts as brotherly love if I'm doing it out of self-interest," Pietro said loftily. "Besides, who says th reason I don't want to see you with a hangover is because you'll feel miserable, and I want to spare you?"

"Because the last time you saw me with a hangover you tormented me until I wanted to die?" Wanda snickered. "Well, torment in your ow way because you did help me. But, still, with the tormenting and all."

"As I remember it, you already wanted to die." Pietro grinned at her. "I just thought that since you clearly couldn't feel worse than wanting to die . . ."

"It is always the details with you." Conveniently forgetting that sh could be incredibly detail oriented when she had to be. It was either that or complete chaos all of the time. "At least this time I know better than to swear off drinking forever. We know how long that usually lasts with me."

"You lasted a whole day once, didn't you? I was impressed." Pietro leaned over to give Wanda a one-armed hug. "Are you going t be all right?"

Wanda sighed and leaned on him. "I will be," she said, sounding tired again. "My first reaction is to sink into my work again so will not be doing that. I already work too much as it is. Will I be all right now? Not for a while but, yes, I will be. Time, wounds, all that nonsense."

"My goodness, she learns." Pietro planted a kiss on the top of her head. "One of these days you won't dive into either your work or a bottle, and on that day I will have a raving paranoid if because the only explanation I can think of for such behavior is that you've been replaced by Mystique."

She snorted. "I would prefer pod person, myself," she sighed. "I mean, really. I do not mind being naked but Mystique certainly takes it to the next level. Because that? Is a lot of blue."

Pietro grinned evilly. "Even the sleeping with Father wasn't th worst part of sharing living space with Mystique. The worst part was the chairs. Think about it." He shuddered theatrically. "I had to. Especially on hot days.

Wanda had survived many things in her life. Flesh people, cultists, near death experiences and missing the 70% sale at that gorgeous little shoe store. It had all passed without her screaming like a little girl. An that was exactly her reaction to Pietro's musings.

"No matter how annoying the people get here, I always console myself with this: at least I never again have to have anything whatsoever to do with Mystique's butt-sweat. That's a knowledge that sustains me through all sorts of difficult times." He smiled wryly. "Grant you it might not be quite as much a comfort to you, right now, but perhaps the mental images will keep your mind off Stephen for a little while?"

"My mind off Stephen? My dear brother, I am not certain how my mind will function at all after that! If you would be so kind, I need more water and some eye-stabbing forks."