Wanda and Eileen | Backdated to 09/21
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ax_mainWanda and Eileen do the Brotherhood's bi-weekly grocery shopping. While buying baking supplies, they hit upon the most brilliant plan ever.
Grocery shopping. Eileen wasn't a huge fan of running errands in the first place, less so when they took her out of the club and into town where she was expected to behave. But groceries were the worst. Food for eight people, seven of whom had teenager-sized appetites, plus Blob. She liked Freddie fine, but Christ.
It didn't help that Pyro had gone and gotten distracted when he'd gone out to do this same chore a couple weeks ago. The result of which was their supplies being significantly lower than usual, prompting Mags to make this a two-man operation instead of one. Two-woman. Whatever. He might also have been banking on them to keep each other from getting distracted.
He shouldn't have worried. Eileen hated town. But she was probably going to need help toting all that food and crap.
"What the fuck even are Chocolate-Frosted Sugar Bombs," grumbled the blond, more to the long, long list in her hand than the dark-haired girl walking next to her. "Somebody is screwing with us. Gotta be."
Wanda groaned. "Pietro," she predicted. "Him or Mort. It almost has to be one or the other. It's cereal," she explained further, not admitting that there was a certain time of the month when she'd been known to put them on the grocery list herself. "Tons of sugar and artificial chocolate flavoring. She leaned over to look at the list. "Any other cereals? We might as well start loading the cart up there."
Eileen snorted, though, with her, that could have indicated nearly anything. "Yeah, there's more. A half-dozen or so more sugary ones that look like Fred-additions and some Rice Krispies for me; I'm thinkin' of doing treats for Alex and Fatale this weekend." Ridiculous, she knew, and a lot more domestic than she usually preferred, but what the hell. Between their ongoing hunt for the Right, Pyro's little ... outing, and that security breach at Asteroid M the other night, they could all probably use the chance to de-stress.
"If they're the ones with the peanut butter, she may kill Freddy over them," Wanda observed. One more sign the girl was nuts - no one went that crazy over peanut butter. But pointing that out to Eileen was pointless - she was nuts over those damn kids. She sighed. "I guess I can't talk," she admitted, skipping over the fact she hadn't actually segued the topic anywhere other than her own mind. Eileen normally followed along anyway. "I picked Pyro up an industrial sized box of matches the other night to keep him from going crazy. I still can't believe my father magnetized his fucking Zippo."
"Well, how else do you actually punish him?" Eileen asked rhetorically, adding peanut butter to the list in her own mind. They were probably getting low either way, now that she thought about it. As they passed through the cereal aisle, she resisted the urge to just float the boxes into the cart with a little EM repulsion and actually forced herself to reach onto the shelf for them. She did study the obnoxious cartoon character plastered across the side of the Sugar Bombs packaging before dropping it among their other stuff with a shake of her head.
"I mean, it's not like most of us go anywhere all that much. And who would he need to talk to that he couldn't just scream down the hall at, if he's not talking to Magik anymore? Besides, he's probably more attached to that Zippo than he is to his nutsack."
Wanda let out a snort of amusement, mostly because that was nothing but the truth, then grinned a bit. For once, she knew something Eileen didn't. "He's still talking to her."
One of the overhead lights dipped slightly. "Oh, really?" Eileen asked, in a voice that was much, much too friendly to be genuine. "Isn't that nice for him. Guess I listened to that whole bitchfest the morning after for nothing, then. Fucking drama queen."
She sighed, and pushed on to the canned foods. "Ugh. I should just be happy I was right about Magik not being a total jerk. And I guess it'll make Pyro easier to live with. Easy as it ever was, anyhow."
"Hey, he's not bad," Wanda argued. "He was just really upset about getting played. You would've been, too." Not, admittedly, that Eileen would've been that stupid to begin with, but still. Wanda glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then eyed the cans of soup meaningfully. A half dozen floated their way into the cart.
"Nah, I get it," said Eileen, watching the cans drift their way without apparent concern. She could feel the other patrons' harmonies, and none of them were close enough to pose an immediate risk. None of the cameras were currently pointed in their direction, either. "I'm not saying he's bad, just a massive pain in the ass when he gets butthurt about something." The fact that he probably should have played the whole thing smarter from the word go tamped down heavily on her sympathy, too--not that she had a helluva lot to start with.
She huffed a decidedly put-upon sigh. "Hell, I guess we could make him a cake, or something. Does he even like cake? He liked pancakes the other day, so that makes me think he probably likes regular cake, too."
"He likes cake," Wanda confirmed. "He's a 16 year old guy, he'll eat damn near anything. I don't know, though - a cake sounds like we're celebrating something." She made a face. "I'm not sure celebrating him being a fucking idiot is really the way to go."
"Not enough hours in the week for all the celebratin' that would require," Eileen acknowledged with a nod. And yeah, she was being a little hard on him, but she'd been concerned. And when she got concerned, she got irritable. "Okay, no cake. Doesn't have to be cake. What kind of comfort food do we feed a teenage firebug who got his heart broken, then got it unbroken-ish again? Brownies? Fudge? Baked fucking Alaska?" Like hell she was going through all that, even if Pyro would probably appreciate the part where the thing was on fire.
Wanda considered the question seriously (which the exception of the baked Alaska, because fuck that much effort). "Cookies. Everyone likes cookies, so we can put them out - or fuck, dole them out, or there won't be enough to go around - and they won't look like they're for anything specific. Besides," she pointed out, "we can get the ones you just break apart and bake those, and then we don't have to actually Make them." She floated a few more canned goods into the cart absently, trusting that she'd get the right one. "You really think he was heart broken?" she asked skeptically. "Hurt, yeah, but..."
"Fuck that store-bought shit," Eileen said immediately. "C'mon. We're gonna take a quick detour while I get the stuff I'll need for kolaczki." More effort than Wanda's suggestion, but not nearly as much as baked Alaska. Like hell she was going to half-ass it, if she was going to go to the trouble of making some kind of gesture for that moron.
She turned that other thing over in her mind for a second before answering. "Fuck. I don't know. He was pretty messed up, the day after, though. That might have been embarrassment, as much as anything else. I don't really, you know, do the feelings thing. I don't know how he coulda got so wrapped up in a chick he just fucking met to be that torn up, either way. He jumps into everything head-first, y'know?" The blond paused again.
"Should we ask him?"
"Oh, hell no. Even if he was, he wouldn't admit it." Wanda sighed and shook her head. "I'm not sure that was heartbreak, though. I think he was just hurt. He trusted her, and he doesn't do that easy. And feeling like he let everyone down. He made a big point of telling me he'd always put the team first. Like I ever doubted that. He was an idiot, but he's no traitor." She eyed Eileen curiously. "You actually met the girl. What'd you think of her?"
Eileen snorted again; she was doing a lot of that, lately. She'd have to get a handle on it, before something gross happened. Or she wore out her nasal sinus cavity. Anyway, she'd never doubted Pyro's loyalties for a second; he'd sooner chuck that damned Zippo down the toilet than go against the team. She knew they could count on him, when it came to the important stuff. The fact that this clusterfuck had made him doubt that came close to making Eileen angry again, but she viciously quashed the feeling. This wasn't about her.
"Like I told Pyro when he was having his whole 'woe-is-me' mopefest, I thought she seemed cool. And I was disappointed when it seemed like she was not-cool." 'Disappointed' being about the nicest way to put it; in fact, she'd been mad enough to start blacking out city blocks, and had mostly held herself back because Mags was clearly not in the mood for any more shit. "Now I guess she's cool again? Aside from being on the wrong team, I mean. We should really try to do something about that."
She grabbed a tub of cream cheese for the kolaczki from the dairy fridge and tossed it into the cart. "Look, I know you and your old man butt heads occasionally, and you know I'm his biggest fangirl. And I still trust him to be looking out for our best interests, long-term. But short-term? I'm not really over-the-moon he just gave the info we busted our asses to collect and then erase to the kid who put a bug on Pyro. I mean, how does that not send one hell of a fucking mixed message? Pretty sure that's part of what's got him feeling so shitty, too. Mags ripped him a new asshole, and at the same time can't seem to stop singin' the praises of the runt who set him up, and broke into our home. It sucks."
Wanda blinked, then raised her eyebrows. Because as smart as Eileen was, had she not figured that out? "That's why he's doing it. That's Pyro's punishment. Oh, probably not the data part," she conceded. "That's some other game he's playing. But taunting him with the Kitty Cat girl? SO smart, SO clever - and making him feel like total shit" She snorted, and various dairy products began rattling on their shelves. "He's a manipulative bastard. I just wish the rest of you would wise up to that."
Eileen watched the dairy shelves rattle like they were about to come out of their brackets, but didn't seem particularly worried. For one thing, the flatscans had a tendency to attribute this sort of thing to local tremors or faulty foundations, before they went looking for mutants. For another, between them she and Wanda could probably take on a whole armored battalion with a reasonable chance of winning. A couple of suburban supermarket shoppers wouldn't even make them break a sweat.
"Wanda, look," she said. "I'm not an idiot. I'm not trying to put your dad up on this pedestal, or anything. And I don't like that he's making Pyro feel like shit for some kind of ... teachable moment, or what the fuck ever. But do you really think he doesn't want something better for us? Yeah, he's a crappy father figure--you don't need me to tell you that. But he's a good leader. Because he can see the opportunities in screw-ups like this. And I kind of hate it, but what else are we supposed to do? That school has more kids than we do. The Right has more manpower than we do. The fucking Friends of Humanity has the resources of a hundred million scared hillbillies. Would we even have any kind of direction, without your dad? Much less scare the flatscans shitless, like we do now."
"Yeah, I know all that." Wanda took a deep breath, and the shelves ceased their rumbling. "I know he's right, and I know he's a good leader. I just hate how he does it. He pulled the same kind of shit on us when we were kids - still does. I saw through it - Pietro didn't always. And Pyro's worse."
"Guess it's just up to us to take care of 'em, then," Eileen grunted, carefully placing a couple dozen eggs in their cart. "Mags'll do what he has to do. We'll keep us grounded. Rememberin' what the hell it's all for. Because if we don't look out for each other, who the fuck else will? Grab me that sour cream, would ya?"
"Got it." Wanda reached over and picked out a couple quarts of sour cream. "So, how do we make kolaczki? Because yeah. They were family. It'd be worth the effort.
"I'll show you when we get back," Eileen grinned. "My gramma taught me the recipe. Fair warning: they're addictive fucking things. You may want to let your pants out now."
"Please. Like I'll get enough of the things to make a difference." Wanda eyed the shelf on the other side, then grabbed a half dozen packages of break-apart chocolate chip cookies anyway. Maybe kolaczki were just that fucking amazing, but Eileen hadn't mentioned anything about chocolate. Besides, these she could manage, herself. "So, one positive out of the whole fucking mess? Got some info from Pyro on the Pietro look-alike. Or his twin, anyway."
Wanda did have a point, where the baked treats were concerned--the Brotherhood in general tended to be like a whole swarm of locusts, where food was concerned. But that topic was immediately driven from Eileen's mind entirely by this newest revelation. "You have got to be shitting me," she guffawed. "So, he's practically a carbon-copy of Quicksilver," physically, anyhow, "and he's half another twinset? What are the fucking odds?" Long, she was pretty sure. But Scarlet Witch had actually studied probability and crap, so she might actually have some idea.
"So high I'd need a fucking computer to figure them out," Wanda acknowledged. "And it gets weirder from there. Throw in that he's fucking near an identical twin, except with dark hair and eyes. And magic powers." She grimaced. "And electrical. Not sure how that fits in, unless someone decided to throw some of your shit into the mix. But get this. They're not actually related."
Eileen pinched the bridge of her nose. "Wanda. I love you, but this is the kind of conversation we're going to need to have after we coerce Fatale into stealing us a twelve-pack. Because I cannot deal with the ramifications of it sober. And weird as our lives are, that should be saying something."
Wanda smirked. "Fuck Fatale. I have a fake ID." Because yeah. Splitting a twelve pack didn't sound half bad. Eileen was right - the topic pretty much required it.
"Then I know what our next stop is, after grocery-shopping," Eileen huffed. She glanced sideways at the other girl. "Look, I'm not tryin' to get into your business, or anything ... but do you have a problem with the newbies? I mean, Fatale is ... well, you know. But she's not any worse than me." She knew she was bitchy. She owned it. The others, mostly, seemed to have reconciled themselves to that fact. "And she went through a lot. Alex, too. I"m just tryin' to cut 'em a little slack."
"Yeah, I know." Wanda shrugged. "I get that she went through hell. Alex too- honestly, I've got no issue with Alex. I just..." she made a face. "Did you see her in action when we blew the place? I get why she did what she did - not faulting that. But she was like a fucking machine, or those androids on Doctor Who. No fucking expression, just one knife after the next. It was creepy as hell."
"... can't argue with that," Eileen conceded. And for her to be admit being creeped out by anything was a minor miracle, in itself. "Why the hell do you think I've done all this baking, lately? I hate this home ec., House and Garden, happy homemaker bullshit. I'm just tryin' to give the others something ... I dunno, halfway homey. Remind us that we're not full-time soldiers and killing machines, or whatever." Not that Eileen especially regretted the deaths of the Right's scientists at Fatale's hands. It was just kind of ... cold-blooded, even for her tastes.
"And here I figured you had some new fucked up ability to channel Martha Stewart." Wanda smirked, then sighed. "And yeah, okay. Sign me up to help. I'll play nice with the little psychopath." She rolled her eyes. "After all, she can't be any worse than Mort, and I've been putting up with him for years."
"Mort's not so bad," Eileen argued. "Though I guess that's probably informed by the fact that he doesn't hit on me. Also? Screw you. Just because I'm not in love with the domestic shit doesn't mean I can't do it."
"Yeah, doesn't mean I can't help, either. You just have to put up with me sucking at it," Wanda fired back.
"With all the other sucking I have to put up with on a daily basis, I prob'bly won't even notice," she returned, then screwed up her face. "That probably sounded dirtier than I meant it to, huh?"
"Given the guys we live with? I'm just going to pretend I didn't even hear it," Wanda replied with a shudder.
"Ugh, motion seconded and passed." Eileen loved the guys--in her own, particular way--but she did not love the guys. And if any of them ever came on to her, she would leave them puking up their toenails in a gutter. But ... "Pyro bring back any intel on the boys at that school? I mean, the flatscan option is obviously a total non-starter, and we're both too amazing and hot to end up spinster-aunts." Well. Wanda was too hot, anyway. Eileen maintained she wasn't a total loss in the looks department, but her two female comrades had her beat there, hands-down.
"Didn't really say." Wanda made a face and rolled her eyes. Powers, yes. Personalities, some. How the guys looked? Not a fucking word. "Gotta say, though - there was one at the Right's shithole who wasn't half bad. Didn't say much, but the red on black eyes were hot. If they make them like that there, I'd be tempted to crash their parties myself."
Eileen couldn't help it; she actually laughed at that--a full-fledged, way-down-deep, from-the-gut laugh. One hand was even clinging to Wanda's shoulder, by the end of it. "I hear you," she said. Then, her eyes brightened--not literally, because that would have given them away, and got them both another lecture from Mags. But an idea had just occurred to her.
"Why wait for them to have another party? Our place used to be a nightclub, there's plenty of room. Why don't we have a party?"
That earned her a laugh from Wanda. "Riiiight. Want a list of what's all wrong with that idea? Starting with the fact my father would kill us?" She rolled her eyes. "Besides, they're already breaking and entering. Issuing invites seems like..." her voice trailed off. Actually, when she thought of it that way, it could kind of make sense. Not to mention she and Eileen would be a fuckload better at evaluating recruits than Pyro. At least they wouldn't be thinking with their dicks. "He'd be so fucking pissed," she said, a slow grin spreading on her face.
"Who says he has to know?" Eileen countered. Okay, Mags was usually three steps ahead of them all the time, but ... "He goes off on, I dunno, Magneto-business on his own, right? Doesn't give us much notice, but we can work around it. What if we get everything ready, then, the next time he announces he's gonna disappear for two or three days, we do it?" Of all the Brotherhood, Eileen was probably one of Erik's most devoted footsoldiers. But ... they were still fucking kids, right? And if the Kitty-cat's people already knew where they were holed up ... well, what the hell harm could it do? Let those poor saps experience a bit of Brotherhood hospitality.
Wanda grimaced. "That won't give us a lot of time. And what the fuck do we do, have Pyro text the Magik girl and tell her to bring friends?" Which...could work, maybe. Assuming the girl had any other than the B&E girl.
"Well, yeah," Eileen said. "What's the worst that could happen? If it all goes to crap, I'll give everybody who's not on the team violent nausea, and Fatale can 'port 'em back home. At best, maybe some guys show up who're worth a second look. We haven't exactly got a lot to lose, if you ask me."
"Our lives?" Wanda observed, but shrugged. "Fine. If you can talk the guys into it, I'm up for it. But if Fatale stabs anyone, it's on you."
Eileen smirked in a decidedly self-satisfied way. Wanda was the only member of the Brotherhood, other than Magneto, who could probably stop her from doing whatever she wanted. And with her provisional approval, she was fairly certain the rest of the dominoes would fall. "I'm pretty sure I can get them to come around," she said. Though it probably wouldn't be a bad idea to get Alex to hide most of Fatale's knives beforehand. "So I guess it's up to Magik, and whoever she gets to tag along."
"Assuming you can convince Pyro to ask her in the first place," Wanda pointed out. Eileen was psyched about this, yeah - but there were the practical aspects, and someone had to point them out. "He's not exactly a fan just now. I'm not all that sure I am, either."
"I'm pretty sure Pyro won't pass up a chance to hang out with his new friend," she said confidently. "As for the rest ... Well. Worst they can do is not show up. That'll be more food and beer for us. Do you really prefer to go on not knowing? I mean, everything we know about them comes from that one encounter at the lab, where nobody was sure of shit, and what Pyro brought back. I like Pyro. Pyro is my boy. But I would still like a chance to meet these other kids for myself, get an idea what they're about. Wouldn't you?"
Eileen...definitely had a point there. Wanda mused over it for a moment, then nodded. "Okay, I'm in. But Pyro's little friend had better bring Pietro's double and his twin. If the party's a bust, at least maybe we can figure out what the hell's going on there."
"Well," she said, brow furrowing, "we can probably work something out." She wasn't sure how, since she didn't know any of these people personally--other than Magik, in the most passing kinda way. But it was a start, at least. If Wanda was mostly on board, she was pretty sure she could persuade, wheedle, or browbeat the others into going along with it. After that, it was just a matter of hashing out the details.
Grocery shopping. Eileen wasn't a huge fan of running errands in the first place, less so when they took her out of the club and into town where she was expected to behave. But groceries were the worst. Food for eight people, seven of whom had teenager-sized appetites, plus Blob. She liked Freddie fine, but Christ.
It didn't help that Pyro had gone and gotten distracted when he'd gone out to do this same chore a couple weeks ago. The result of which was their supplies being significantly lower than usual, prompting Mags to make this a two-man operation instead of one. Two-woman. Whatever. He might also have been banking on them to keep each other from getting distracted.
He shouldn't have worried. Eileen hated town. But she was probably going to need help toting all that food and crap.
"What the fuck even are Chocolate-Frosted Sugar Bombs," grumbled the blond, more to the long, long list in her hand than the dark-haired girl walking next to her. "Somebody is screwing with us. Gotta be."
Wanda groaned. "Pietro," she predicted. "Him or Mort. It almost has to be one or the other. It's cereal," she explained further, not admitting that there was a certain time of the month when she'd been known to put them on the grocery list herself. "Tons of sugar and artificial chocolate flavoring. She leaned over to look at the list. "Any other cereals? We might as well start loading the cart up there."
Eileen snorted, though, with her, that could have indicated nearly anything. "Yeah, there's more. A half-dozen or so more sugary ones that look like Fred-additions and some Rice Krispies for me; I'm thinkin' of doing treats for Alex and Fatale this weekend." Ridiculous, she knew, and a lot more domestic than she usually preferred, but what the hell. Between their ongoing hunt for the Right, Pyro's little ... outing, and that security breach at Asteroid M the other night, they could all probably use the chance to de-stress.
"If they're the ones with the peanut butter, she may kill Freddy over them," Wanda observed. One more sign the girl was nuts - no one went that crazy over peanut butter. But pointing that out to Eileen was pointless - she was nuts over those damn kids. She sighed. "I guess I can't talk," she admitted, skipping over the fact she hadn't actually segued the topic anywhere other than her own mind. Eileen normally followed along anyway. "I picked Pyro up an industrial sized box of matches the other night to keep him from going crazy. I still can't believe my father magnetized his fucking Zippo."
"Well, how else do you actually punish him?" Eileen asked rhetorically, adding peanut butter to the list in her own mind. They were probably getting low either way, now that she thought about it. As they passed through the cereal aisle, she resisted the urge to just float the boxes into the cart with a little EM repulsion and actually forced herself to reach onto the shelf for them. She did study the obnoxious cartoon character plastered across the side of the Sugar Bombs packaging before dropping it among their other stuff with a shake of her head.
"I mean, it's not like most of us go anywhere all that much. And who would he need to talk to that he couldn't just scream down the hall at, if he's not talking to Magik anymore? Besides, he's probably more attached to that Zippo than he is to his nutsack."
Wanda let out a snort of amusement, mostly because that was nothing but the truth, then grinned a bit. For once, she knew something Eileen didn't. "He's still talking to her."
One of the overhead lights dipped slightly. "Oh, really?" Eileen asked, in a voice that was much, much too friendly to be genuine. "Isn't that nice for him. Guess I listened to that whole bitchfest the morning after for nothing, then. Fucking drama queen."
She sighed, and pushed on to the canned foods. "Ugh. I should just be happy I was right about Magik not being a total jerk. And I guess it'll make Pyro easier to live with. Easy as it ever was, anyhow."
"Hey, he's not bad," Wanda argued. "He was just really upset about getting played. You would've been, too." Not, admittedly, that Eileen would've been that stupid to begin with, but still. Wanda glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then eyed the cans of soup meaningfully. A half dozen floated their way into the cart.
"Nah, I get it," said Eileen, watching the cans drift their way without apparent concern. She could feel the other patrons' harmonies, and none of them were close enough to pose an immediate risk. None of the cameras were currently pointed in their direction, either. "I'm not saying he's bad, just a massive pain in the ass when he gets butthurt about something." The fact that he probably should have played the whole thing smarter from the word go tamped down heavily on her sympathy, too--not that she had a helluva lot to start with.
She huffed a decidedly put-upon sigh. "Hell, I guess we could make him a cake, or something. Does he even like cake? He liked pancakes the other day, so that makes me think he probably likes regular cake, too."
"He likes cake," Wanda confirmed. "He's a 16 year old guy, he'll eat damn near anything. I don't know, though - a cake sounds like we're celebrating something." She made a face. "I'm not sure celebrating him being a fucking idiot is really the way to go."
"Not enough hours in the week for all the celebratin' that would require," Eileen acknowledged with a nod. And yeah, she was being a little hard on him, but she'd been concerned. And when she got concerned, she got irritable. "Okay, no cake. Doesn't have to be cake. What kind of comfort food do we feed a teenage firebug who got his heart broken, then got it unbroken-ish again? Brownies? Fudge? Baked fucking Alaska?" Like hell she was going through all that, even if Pyro would probably appreciate the part where the thing was on fire.
Wanda considered the question seriously (which the exception of the baked Alaska, because fuck that much effort). "Cookies. Everyone likes cookies, so we can put them out - or fuck, dole them out, or there won't be enough to go around - and they won't look like they're for anything specific. Besides," she pointed out, "we can get the ones you just break apart and bake those, and then we don't have to actually Make them." She floated a few more canned goods into the cart absently, trusting that she'd get the right one. "You really think he was heart broken?" she asked skeptically. "Hurt, yeah, but..."
"Fuck that store-bought shit," Eileen said immediately. "C'mon. We're gonna take a quick detour while I get the stuff I'll need for kolaczki." More effort than Wanda's suggestion, but not nearly as much as baked Alaska. Like hell she was going to half-ass it, if she was going to go to the trouble of making some kind of gesture for that moron.
She turned that other thing over in her mind for a second before answering. "Fuck. I don't know. He was pretty messed up, the day after, though. That might have been embarrassment, as much as anything else. I don't really, you know, do the feelings thing. I don't know how he coulda got so wrapped up in a chick he just fucking met to be that torn up, either way. He jumps into everything head-first, y'know?" The blond paused again.
"Should we ask him?"
"Oh, hell no. Even if he was, he wouldn't admit it." Wanda sighed and shook her head. "I'm not sure that was heartbreak, though. I think he was just hurt. He trusted her, and he doesn't do that easy. And feeling like he let everyone down. He made a big point of telling me he'd always put the team first. Like I ever doubted that. He was an idiot, but he's no traitor." She eyed Eileen curiously. "You actually met the girl. What'd you think of her?"
Eileen snorted again; she was doing a lot of that, lately. She'd have to get a handle on it, before something gross happened. Or she wore out her nasal sinus cavity. Anyway, she'd never doubted Pyro's loyalties for a second; he'd sooner chuck that damned Zippo down the toilet than go against the team. She knew they could count on him, when it came to the important stuff. The fact that this clusterfuck had made him doubt that came close to making Eileen angry again, but she viciously quashed the feeling. This wasn't about her.
"Like I told Pyro when he was having his whole 'woe-is-me' mopefest, I thought she seemed cool. And I was disappointed when it seemed like she was not-cool." 'Disappointed' being about the nicest way to put it; in fact, she'd been mad enough to start blacking out city blocks, and had mostly held herself back because Mags was clearly not in the mood for any more shit. "Now I guess she's cool again? Aside from being on the wrong team, I mean. We should really try to do something about that."
She grabbed a tub of cream cheese for the kolaczki from the dairy fridge and tossed it into the cart. "Look, I know you and your old man butt heads occasionally, and you know I'm his biggest fangirl. And I still trust him to be looking out for our best interests, long-term. But short-term? I'm not really over-the-moon he just gave the info we busted our asses to collect and then erase to the kid who put a bug on Pyro. I mean, how does that not send one hell of a fucking mixed message? Pretty sure that's part of what's got him feeling so shitty, too. Mags ripped him a new asshole, and at the same time can't seem to stop singin' the praises of the runt who set him up, and broke into our home. It sucks."
Wanda blinked, then raised her eyebrows. Because as smart as Eileen was, had she not figured that out? "That's why he's doing it. That's Pyro's punishment. Oh, probably not the data part," she conceded. "That's some other game he's playing. But taunting him with the Kitty Cat girl? SO smart, SO clever - and making him feel like total shit" She snorted, and various dairy products began rattling on their shelves. "He's a manipulative bastard. I just wish the rest of you would wise up to that."
Eileen watched the dairy shelves rattle like they were about to come out of their brackets, but didn't seem particularly worried. For one thing, the flatscans had a tendency to attribute this sort of thing to local tremors or faulty foundations, before they went looking for mutants. For another, between them she and Wanda could probably take on a whole armored battalion with a reasonable chance of winning. A couple of suburban supermarket shoppers wouldn't even make them break a sweat.
"Wanda, look," she said. "I'm not an idiot. I'm not trying to put your dad up on this pedestal, or anything. And I don't like that he's making Pyro feel like shit for some kind of ... teachable moment, or what the fuck ever. But do you really think he doesn't want something better for us? Yeah, he's a crappy father figure--you don't need me to tell you that. But he's a good leader. Because he can see the opportunities in screw-ups like this. And I kind of hate it, but what else are we supposed to do? That school has more kids than we do. The Right has more manpower than we do. The fucking Friends of Humanity has the resources of a hundred million scared hillbillies. Would we even have any kind of direction, without your dad? Much less scare the flatscans shitless, like we do now."
"Yeah, I know all that." Wanda took a deep breath, and the shelves ceased their rumbling. "I know he's right, and I know he's a good leader. I just hate how he does it. He pulled the same kind of shit on us when we were kids - still does. I saw through it - Pietro didn't always. And Pyro's worse."
"Guess it's just up to us to take care of 'em, then," Eileen grunted, carefully placing a couple dozen eggs in their cart. "Mags'll do what he has to do. We'll keep us grounded. Rememberin' what the hell it's all for. Because if we don't look out for each other, who the fuck else will? Grab me that sour cream, would ya?"
"Got it." Wanda reached over and picked out a couple quarts of sour cream. "So, how do we make kolaczki? Because yeah. They were family. It'd be worth the effort.
"I'll show you when we get back," Eileen grinned. "My gramma taught me the recipe. Fair warning: they're addictive fucking things. You may want to let your pants out now."
"Please. Like I'll get enough of the things to make a difference." Wanda eyed the shelf on the other side, then grabbed a half dozen packages of break-apart chocolate chip cookies anyway. Maybe kolaczki were just that fucking amazing, but Eileen hadn't mentioned anything about chocolate. Besides, these she could manage, herself. "So, one positive out of the whole fucking mess? Got some info from Pyro on the Pietro look-alike. Or his twin, anyway."
Wanda did have a point, where the baked treats were concerned--the Brotherhood in general tended to be like a whole swarm of locusts, where food was concerned. But that topic was immediately driven from Eileen's mind entirely by this newest revelation. "You have got to be shitting me," she guffawed. "So, he's practically a carbon-copy of Quicksilver," physically, anyhow, "and he's half another twinset? What are the fucking odds?" Long, she was pretty sure. But Scarlet Witch had actually studied probability and crap, so she might actually have some idea.
"So high I'd need a fucking computer to figure them out," Wanda acknowledged. "And it gets weirder from there. Throw in that he's fucking near an identical twin, except with dark hair and eyes. And magic powers." She grimaced. "And electrical. Not sure how that fits in, unless someone decided to throw some of your shit into the mix. But get this. They're not actually related."
Eileen pinched the bridge of her nose. "Wanda. I love you, but this is the kind of conversation we're going to need to have after we coerce Fatale into stealing us a twelve-pack. Because I cannot deal with the ramifications of it sober. And weird as our lives are, that should be saying something."
Wanda smirked. "Fuck Fatale. I have a fake ID." Because yeah. Splitting a twelve pack didn't sound half bad. Eileen was right - the topic pretty much required it.
"Then I know what our next stop is, after grocery-shopping," Eileen huffed. She glanced sideways at the other girl. "Look, I'm not tryin' to get into your business, or anything ... but do you have a problem with the newbies? I mean, Fatale is ... well, you know. But she's not any worse than me." She knew she was bitchy. She owned it. The others, mostly, seemed to have reconciled themselves to that fact. "And she went through a lot. Alex, too. I"m just tryin' to cut 'em a little slack."
"Yeah, I know." Wanda shrugged. "I get that she went through hell. Alex too- honestly, I've got no issue with Alex. I just..." she made a face. "Did you see her in action when we blew the place? I get why she did what she did - not faulting that. But she was like a fucking machine, or those androids on Doctor Who. No fucking expression, just one knife after the next. It was creepy as hell."
"... can't argue with that," Eileen conceded. And for her to be admit being creeped out by anything was a minor miracle, in itself. "Why the hell do you think I've done all this baking, lately? I hate this home ec., House and Garden, happy homemaker bullshit. I'm just tryin' to give the others something ... I dunno, halfway homey. Remind us that we're not full-time soldiers and killing machines, or whatever." Not that Eileen especially regretted the deaths of the Right's scientists at Fatale's hands. It was just kind of ... cold-blooded, even for her tastes.
"And here I figured you had some new fucked up ability to channel Martha Stewart." Wanda smirked, then sighed. "And yeah, okay. Sign me up to help. I'll play nice with the little psychopath." She rolled her eyes. "After all, she can't be any worse than Mort, and I've been putting up with him for years."
"Mort's not so bad," Eileen argued. "Though I guess that's probably informed by the fact that he doesn't hit on me. Also? Screw you. Just because I'm not in love with the domestic shit doesn't mean I can't do it."
"Yeah, doesn't mean I can't help, either. You just have to put up with me sucking at it," Wanda fired back.
"With all the other sucking I have to put up with on a daily basis, I prob'bly won't even notice," she returned, then screwed up her face. "That probably sounded dirtier than I meant it to, huh?"
"Given the guys we live with? I'm just going to pretend I didn't even hear it," Wanda replied with a shudder.
"Ugh, motion seconded and passed." Eileen loved the guys--in her own, particular way--but she did not love the guys. And if any of them ever came on to her, she would leave them puking up their toenails in a gutter. But ... "Pyro bring back any intel on the boys at that school? I mean, the flatscan option is obviously a total non-starter, and we're both too amazing and hot to end up spinster-aunts." Well. Wanda was too hot, anyway. Eileen maintained she wasn't a total loss in the looks department, but her two female comrades had her beat there, hands-down.
"Didn't really say." Wanda made a face and rolled her eyes. Powers, yes. Personalities, some. How the guys looked? Not a fucking word. "Gotta say, though - there was one at the Right's shithole who wasn't half bad. Didn't say much, but the red on black eyes were hot. If they make them like that there, I'd be tempted to crash their parties myself."
Eileen couldn't help it; she actually laughed at that--a full-fledged, way-down-deep, from-the-gut laugh. One hand was even clinging to Wanda's shoulder, by the end of it. "I hear you," she said. Then, her eyes brightened--not literally, because that would have given them away, and got them both another lecture from Mags. But an idea had just occurred to her.
"Why wait for them to have another party? Our place used to be a nightclub, there's plenty of room. Why don't we have a party?"
That earned her a laugh from Wanda. "Riiiight. Want a list of what's all wrong with that idea? Starting with the fact my father would kill us?" She rolled her eyes. "Besides, they're already breaking and entering. Issuing invites seems like..." her voice trailed off. Actually, when she thought of it that way, it could kind of make sense. Not to mention she and Eileen would be a fuckload better at evaluating recruits than Pyro. At least they wouldn't be thinking with their dicks. "He'd be so fucking pissed," she said, a slow grin spreading on her face.
"Who says he has to know?" Eileen countered. Okay, Mags was usually three steps ahead of them all the time, but ... "He goes off on, I dunno, Magneto-business on his own, right? Doesn't give us much notice, but we can work around it. What if we get everything ready, then, the next time he announces he's gonna disappear for two or three days, we do it?" Of all the Brotherhood, Eileen was probably one of Erik's most devoted footsoldiers. But ... they were still fucking kids, right? And if the Kitty-cat's people already knew where they were holed up ... well, what the hell harm could it do? Let those poor saps experience a bit of Brotherhood hospitality.
Wanda grimaced. "That won't give us a lot of time. And what the fuck do we do, have Pyro text the Magik girl and tell her to bring friends?" Which...could work, maybe. Assuming the girl had any other than the B&E girl.
"Well, yeah," Eileen said. "What's the worst that could happen? If it all goes to crap, I'll give everybody who's not on the team violent nausea, and Fatale can 'port 'em back home. At best, maybe some guys show up who're worth a second look. We haven't exactly got a lot to lose, if you ask me."
"Our lives?" Wanda observed, but shrugged. "Fine. If you can talk the guys into it, I'm up for it. But if Fatale stabs anyone, it's on you."
Eileen smirked in a decidedly self-satisfied way. Wanda was the only member of the Brotherhood, other than Magneto, who could probably stop her from doing whatever she wanted. And with her provisional approval, she was fairly certain the rest of the dominoes would fall. "I'm pretty sure I can get them to come around," she said. Though it probably wouldn't be a bad idea to get Alex to hide most of Fatale's knives beforehand. "So I guess it's up to Magik, and whoever she gets to tag along."
"Assuming you can convince Pyro to ask her in the first place," Wanda pointed out. Eileen was psyched about this, yeah - but there were the practical aspects, and someone had to point them out. "He's not exactly a fan just now. I'm not all that sure I am, either."
"I'm pretty sure Pyro won't pass up a chance to hang out with his new friend," she said confidently. "As for the rest ... Well. Worst they can do is not show up. That'll be more food and beer for us. Do you really prefer to go on not knowing? I mean, everything we know about them comes from that one encounter at the lab, where nobody was sure of shit, and what Pyro brought back. I like Pyro. Pyro is my boy. But I would still like a chance to meet these other kids for myself, get an idea what they're about. Wouldn't you?"
Eileen...definitely had a point there. Wanda mused over it for a moment, then nodded. "Okay, I'm in. But Pyro's little friend had better bring Pietro's double and his twin. If the party's a bust, at least maybe we can figure out what the hell's going on there."
"Well," she said, brow furrowing, "we can probably work something out." She wasn't sure how, since she didn't know any of these people personally--other than Magik, in the most passing kinda way. But it was a start, at least. If Wanda was mostly on board, she was pretty sure she could persuade, wheedle, or browbeat the others into going along with it. After that, it was just a matter of hashing out the details.
