The Question

The Question

A/N: This is based off of the notion that Wanda probably did not get much of an education in that asylum. Rated T for semi-adult references and a few curses.

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“Some people are like slinkies; they don’t really have a purpose, but they make you laugh when you push them down the stairs.”

The audience laughed, and Wanda Maximoff snorted, not out of amusement at the pitiful comedian’s words, but at the sound of the laugh track.  Some idiot was hooting and laughing louder than everyone else, and the joke hadn’t even been that funny.  Moron.  

She held the remote out in front of her, watching the so-called comedian on the screen move around in an accelerated frenzy due to the fast forwarding.  She wondered briefly if Pietro could do that, too.  

Aware of the front door opening, Wanda stopped the video and pretended to be enraptured in it, just in case whoever was home wanted to talk.  No one in their right mind would dare interrupt her TV viewing time.  The last thing she wanted to do was give the impression that she wanted to socialize.  Because she sure as hell did not.

“…Come on, everyone makes mistakes!” The comedian was exclaiming.  “I mean, I myself was the result of a broken condom!” The audience practically died at that, and Wanda frowned, not understanding.  She was pretty sure she had never heard that word in her life.  

Lance ambled into the living room, a can of probably beer in his hand.  Wanda glanced over at him, pursing her lips.  

“You look like shit,” she commented.

He shrugged, opening his can.  “That happens sometimes to people, when they work.”

“Hm,” Wanda rolled her eyes, looking back to the TV for a moment.  She lowered the volume on television set by way of the remote, and then looked back at Lance, who was in the middle of a drink.  “Lance, what’s a condom?”

The reaction was instantaneous.  Lance choked and coughed and spat half of his drink right back out of his mouth.  Wanda watched him, not at all entertained.  She folded her arms across her chest, clicking her tongue in exasperation.  

“Well?” she demanded.  “What is it?”

Lance cleared his throat, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.  “Umm…” He cleared his throat again.  “Where’d you hear that word?”

“This guy said it on TV,” Wanda told him.  

Lance frowned at the set, as the comedian proceeded to hump the air rather aggressively.  “Umm, what are you watching?”

“Some stupid comedy routine,” Wanda waved her hand in dismissal; that wasn’t important.  “Tell me what it means.”

“Uhh,” he bit his lip, rubbing the back of his neck a bit uneasily.  “Well… it’s this thing.  Made of rubber or latex or something.”

“A thing,” she repeated disdainfully.  “Okay, well, what does it do? What’s it for?”

Lance’s face flushed pink, and he looked down at his half empty can almost wistfully.  “It’s, uh… it’s… uhh… look, why don’t you ask Pietro? Pietro is… is better with words and stuff.”  

“Gee, thanks a lot,” Wanda snapped at him.  She straightened herself up and called, “Pietro!!”

After barely two seconds of a wait, Pietro appeared at the foot of the stairs, his hands on his hips.  He brushed his hair back with one hand before zooming over to the middle of the living room where Lance stood and Wanda sat.  He stood in front of the television set and inclined his head.  “You call?”

“Yes,” Wanda said.  “I had a question that Lance couldn’t answer.”

Pietro smirked at Lance.  “Well, you should have known better than to ask Lance.”  

“Whatever,” Lance rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall, sipping at what little was left of his drink.  

“I’m sure I’ll have an answer,” Pietro declared, looking at his sister.  “What is it?”

“I wanted to know what a condom was,” she said steadily.  

Pietro raised his eyebrows and stared at her for a long moment.  There was a pause, which was broken only by Lance snorting into his drink at Pietro’s loss of what to say.  Pietro glared at him, and then turned back to Wanda.

“Who said that?” he asked finally, folding his arms across his chest.  “Where’s you hear that?  Who are you listening to?”

“It was on TV!” Wanda sighed in exasperation.  “And that doesn’t matter!  I just want to know what it is!”

Pietro huffed.  “What exactly have you been watching?  You aren’t watching anything inappropriate are you? Are you watching porn?!  Wanda!! You know better than to be—”

“Pietro!” Wanda interrupted, gritting her teeth.  “I just heard the word, and all I want to know is what the hell it is! Is that such a crime?!  Is it a dirty word or something? Just tell me what the hell it is!!”

“Well,” he put his hand to his chin thoughtfully, as though he was considering his words very carefully.  “Hmmm.  Well… it’s this latex or rubbery thing…”

“I know that,” Wanda said, annoyed.  “Lance told me that much.  But what is it for?”

Pietro paced back and forth for a moment, and then took a seat beside her.  “Wanda,” he said, with a slightly patronizing air.  “Wanda, I think you know enough for someone your age.”

“Pietro!” she exclaimed indignantly.  “You’re the same age as me!”

“I’m older,” he said flatly, sticking his chin up in the air.  

Wanda growled, bringing her fists up, quite prepared to punch him out.  The lights flickered slightly.  “Quit being an asshole, and tell me what it is, right now!!”

“Calm down!” he raised his two hands in a surrendering gesture.  “How about we make a deal. How about, I tell you everything you want to know about them once you turn eighteen.  Mmkay?  I promise I’ll tell you next year …but only if you ask me again, ‘cause I most likely won’t remember.”

Wanda glared at him furiously.  “Pietro.”

“I think that’s reasonable,” Pietro said matter-of-factly.

“I think you’re an ass,” she snapped, shoving him violently, and then getting to her feet.  “You’re acting like I’m five years old!  Even if it IS a bad word, I am just as old as you are, and I can handle knowing it.”  She huffed.  “Dammit,” she added, just for good measure.

The sound of Pietro’s scoff was hidden by a rustle from the kitchen, and the three in the living area looked up at the entrance of Freddy, carrying a rather large bowl of popcorn in his hands.  He stopped in his tracks when he saw that they were all looking at him, and his brow furrowed slightly, feeling some sort of tension in here.

“Uhh… want some?” he offered anxiously, as though it could solve the strain in the room.

“Not a good time, Blob,” Lance said, peering into the opening of his drink to see if there was any more inside it.

“What’s going on?” Fred asked, looking at Wanda, who now had her arms folded across her chest, the look of annoyance on her face directed now towards Pietro, who had risen from the couch.

“Nothing is going on,” Pietro said. “We were just—”

Suddenly, there was sound of glass breaking from the kitchen, followed by a screechy exclamation.  “Aw, man!” Todd’s voice shouted, and Wanda’s lip curled in disgust as Todd bounded into the living room, juice dripping all over his face.  

“Heh, the cup exploded,” he commented, although none of them had asked or even seemed interested, knowing that it must have been Wanda’s irritation that had caused the thing to blow up.  Todd knew it too, and grinned at her, oblivious of the ‘Do-not-mess-with-Wanda’ expression she was wearing. “That was just a love-tap, wasn’t it, snookums?”

“Oh please,” Wanda glared.  “Look, if none of you guys are going to tell me what a condom is, then I’m just gonna—”

There was a loud grating sound as Fred choked on the popcorn he had been chewing.  

“Breathe,” Pietro instructed, and Wanda aimed a hex to his throat to stop the choking, now even more annoyed.

“You know what it is, don’t you?” she placed her hands on her hips, getting into her most intimidating stance.  “Tell me what it is, right now.  Or else.”

Fred blinked, seeming unnerved, and for guidance, he looked to Lance, who shrugged, and then to Pietro, who shot him a forbidding glare.  “I dunno, Wanda,” he said, scratching his head.  “Why don’t you… look it up in a dictionary or something?”

“I’ll get you a dictionary!” Todd volunteered, jumping up excitedly and bouncing into the hallway.  Wanda smirked triumphantly at the other three, and followed the smelly boy out.  

Todd opened the hallway closet, sifting through broken Christmas lights and old shoes before finding a cheap pocket dictionary with a mustard stain on the front cover.

“There you go,” he said, holding out the dictionary for her to take.  “Want me to find the page for you, sweetums?”

“Get away from me,” Wanda growled, snatching the dictionary and flipping through it aggressively.

“You’re so angry,” Todd commented.  “Do you need a hug?”

Wanda ignored him, stalking further down the hallway as she flipped through the pages.  Condolence, condole… condom!

“A contraceptive for a man,” she read, frowning.  “Contraceptive.  What the hell is a contraceptive?”

“I know what it is!” Todd piped up.

“I can look it up!” Wanda bellowed, turning pages aggressively.  “Contraceptive,” she read to herself.  “‘A device used to prevent fertilization of an egg, e.g. a condom worn by a man, or a pill taken regularly by a woman’… this doesn’t help explain anything!” Frustrated, Wanda slammed the book closed, muttering curses under her breath.

“Want me to—”

“Get OUT!”  Wanda threw her arm out and hexed him back into the living room.  Seething, she stormed up the stairs, melting the handrail on her way up and then kicking at the wall at the very top of the stairs before turning to the direction of her bedroom.

“G-d, Wanda, you sure have a temper,” Pietro was standing down at the foot of the stairs.

Wanda tossed the book down the stairs, glaring daggers at him when he easily dodged it and zoomed right up the stairs beside her.  “You think this is funny, don’t you?” she growled.  

“I know better than to answer that,” Pietro smirked.

“If you aren’t going to tell me what a condom is, will you at least tell me what a contraceptive is?” Wanda pressed her lips together into a thin line, folding her arms across her chest.  

He hesitated before answering, “It’s birth control.”

Wanda frowned, mulling this over.  “So… birth control for a man is a condom?” she asked, and after a pause, he nodded.  “But… how… you said it was rubber—I don’t get it.  You guys are lying to me or something, and I do not like it one bit.”

Pietro gave a heavy sigh, and then dug in his pocket.  He pulled out his wallet, and fished through for something.  She watched with an arched eyebrow.  “You’re going to pay me to stop asking questions?  That won’t work… unless it’s over 100 bucks.”

He glared at her, and grabbed her hand, turning it so it was palm up.  Wanda blinked, and Pietro pressed something into her palm.  

“What’s this?” she asked, examining it with mild interest.  

“It’s a condom,” he told her in exasperation, not appearing very impressed with her as she opened it and stretched it to test its consistency.  

“It is rubbery,” she commented, seeming amused.  “How is it birth control, though?”

“Just look at it,” Pietro rolled his eyes.  Wanda slid the condom over her index finger and wriggled it.  She frowned at it, and then looked back to him.

A pause.  “I’m not getting it.”

“For G-d’s sake, Wanda!” Pietro exclaimed, throwing his arms up.  “I decide that I’m going to be nice and tell you, and you don’t even get it!  Do I have to spell it out for you? Jeez-us!”

He huffed, and then curved his own index finger and thumb into the shape of a letter ‘O.’ Glowering at her for making this so difficult, Pietro took her hand pressed her condom-covered index finger into the O shape he had made with his fingers.  He gave her a Look, and then moved her index finger in and out of the O several times before he saw the comprehension dawn on her face.

“Oh my G-d!” Wanda exclaimed, pulling her hand away from him.  Her brows furrowed, and she plucked the condom off of her index finger, not looking very pleased with this new information.  “Pietro!  Ugh!”

“You're the one who had to know,” he snapped, putting his hands on his hips.  

Wanda scoffed and shoved her brother in the chest as she stormed away and into her own room, slamming the door loudly behind her.  Scowling, she dropped the offending latex onto the floor and tried to not think about the destiny it would have had if she had never asked that question.

“Eww.”


--End