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Pietro stretched his legs. He was preparing for a good run. He peeked up and saw his rival, Evan coming across the track with some girl he'd never seen before. " Who's your woman, Daniels?" He asked as they came by him. It was she who turned to him, " I'm no man's woman." She spoke equally as fast as he did, " Call me Squirrel." " Oooh, a fast-talker," Pietro smiled and whispered out, almost seductively, " Bet you're not as fast as me." " Pietro, do you have to compete with everyone?" Evan sighed. Pietro waved him off. His interests were no on Squirrel. " Oh!" She shrieked with a smile, " You're Pietro Maximoff?!" " What's it to ya?" " I hear you're quite swift-footed," She whispered to his face, almost as seductively. Pietro arched a brow and folded his arms proudly. She took a hand from him and shook it, " I've been looking for you everywhere since Evan here told me about you." Pietro glanced at Evan. What would he have good to say about him? They hated each other. He smiled slowly. Maybe Evan finally realized Pietro was better than him. Squirrel continued, " Word is that you are the swift-footed Quicksilver. I bet I'm faster." " Faster?!" Pietro laughed hysterically, " Than me?! Quicksilver?! Ha!" " Wanna race?" Squirrel smiled inquisitively. " Oooh, sounds like a challenge. You're on, sweet cheeks!" He laughed. He caught sight of Evan out of the corner of his eye, mouthing the words as if memorized when he had said "oooh, sounds like a challenge." He gave a hum to himself. Perhaps he was becoming too predictable. ***Later*** Pietro was in the den, stretching and warming up. Squirrel had the gawl to challenge him to a long and sturdy race....powers allowed. Considering both had agreed the only power allowed was super speed. He made it his goal to humiliate her. And then....proabably make a pass at her. Pathetic. " Who does she think she is?" He muttered to himself as he bent down to stretch to his toes. " Challenge me, will she? I'll show her. Quicksilver is unbeatale in a race." " Is this the course you're taking tomorrow?" Lance asked, glancing at the brochure map of one LONG track. " Yep. Longest trail in the area. Actually, it's several smaller trails put together. We wanted to keep the race going a long time so we could enjoy it more. We're gonna run the whole thing, non-stop and no breaks. Straight through. No cutting corners. A fair race." " How long do you think it'd take?" Pietro glanced at the map in Lance's hands, " Well. If I hustle, probably about four hours and some odd minutes. But, that's just an estimate. Word is, my dear Squirrel loves to run as much as I do. I'll give her the run of her life." Lance smiled. This was one race he didn't want to miss. ***At the starting line*** " No stopping! Run straight through!" Squirrel ordered. " No problem," Pietro agreed, shaking to it. Lance and Evan had come to see the race. " I could shake things up a bit," Lance offered. " He agreed to play fair," Evan argued. " Besides, if he needs your help to win this race...must mean he can't do it all by himself." " I'll wager that. Put your money where your mouth is." The two reached for their wallets and wagered who would win the race. Pietro and Squirrel became very amused. ***Ready, set, go!*** Both were off. Squirrel zipped three feet behind Pietro. He hated the feeling of having someone on his heels. He tried to move faster, but no matter how fast he went, Squirrel was three feet behind him. She was fast, and he greatly admired the spirit she had. However, he was faster. He had the advantage. He now just wanted to get this race over with so he could turn around and ask her out....Very pathetic. ***At the finish*** Lance and Evan yawned. The two made idle chit chat and began a game of cards. Both waited patiently for the sign of Squirrel and Pietro. ***Back on the course*** " Give it up, Squirrel!" He taunted back at her. " You can't beat me, Luv!" She was still on his heels. She didn't reply to him. She kept her pace. He was unsure about her silence. It was unnatural to get no repsonse from his taunts. He gave a huff. Had it been Evan, he'd have replied no sweat. It would have been a nasty, challenging reply which would drive Pietro wild with excitement and adreniline. Not an intimate excitement, but a burning desire to preservere and win. But, who was he kidding? Then, there wouldn't be a race. Evan couldn't stay three feet behind him. But, he smiled at the idea that he could finally admit to counting on his rival for something. ***Finish...four hours*** Lance peeked up from his cards. " Rummy," Evan called. " There they are!" Evan turned and saw the racers approaching fast. Both got up and began to cheer them on. Almost there. Just a little closer. Pietro felt great confidence. That is...until...he saw Squirrel gradually pass him! No! Pietro was slowing down! He tried desperately to maintain his great speed of 175 MPH. However, he failed. His body was shutting down his speed...slowing him down to that of a normal person. Squirrel pulled ahead of him and crossed the finish line. Pietro was quickn to follow, but tripped on the line, falling forward onto his chest. He had been....BEATEN! " Pietro!" Lance called out, helping his teammate to at least his knees to get air. " Why'd you throw the race?!" Pietro's chest hurt. His throat hurt. Everything was hurting and the pain was agonizing! His breathing was rapid, as was his heartbeat. He couldn't slow his internal functions. They had sped up immensly as he had slowed down outwardly. Everything was blurry and he felt he was about to pass out from the dizziness. His words were whispery and violent sounding, " How...dare you! I...would....never...throw...a race!" Evan slapped Squirrel a high five. He then made his way over to Pietro and helped Lance bring him to his feet. Pietro leaned against Lance as a crutch. Evan patted Pietro on the back, " Good race, ol' pal." there was a hint of sarcasm. But, Pietro was too exhausted to reply. Squirrel approached him next. She slipped a folded piece of paper down Pietro's costume {the one he wore as Quicksilver...and for this race}. He took a moment to contimplate the action. " Call me sometime," She smiled, " I like your style. We should go out sometime." Ouch. That was a definate ouch. She had done exactly what he was planning to do to her. Beat her, humiliate her, and then hand her his number and ask her out. But it was HER! SHE was the one who won the race, humiliated HIM, and then slipped him HER number and asked HIM out. Oh well. His pride, like everything else was in great pain. Squirrel, to show there were no hard feelings, kissed his cheek, " Gotta run, Quicksilver. Dinner time." With that, she zipped off. Pietro hissed. It was all his body would allow him to do. Not only did she beat him, but she had reserves! He shook his head. Lance knew it was time to drag his buddy home. Besides, he knew Pietro needed all the rest he could get, with needing the call Squirrel later an all. END | ||||
