𝐒𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐓 (X-Men ~ Peter Maximoff)

Mamma Mia, Here We Go Again

The phone was perhaps one of the greatest innovations of the nineteenth century, and the proof of its brilliance was the fact that almost everyone household now owned one. There were hundreds of different manufactures, and plenty of colours to choose from, so people could buy one that suited the style of their house perfectly. It was nothing short of amazing how the world took to the invention so quickly, but with something as revolutionary as being able to talk to people miles away without even leaving the house how could it be ignored. The telephone was a gift and a blessing to humanity, but right now it was an omen.

The Maximoff household phone had been ringing on the hook for the past ten minutes, the caller nothing short of desperate to get a response. Down in the basement, Jennifer could almost see the bright turquoise phone shaking against the machine hanging on the wall of the kitchen. The high pitched sound sent shivers through her body, relentlessly reminding her that it was still waiting to be answered. Still, Jennifer Jones knew how to ignore an issue when she wanted to.

On a normal week it would've been Linda on the other end of the line, no doubt tapping her foot on her worn wooden floor and picking at the bright red nail polish on her fingers absentmindedly, waiting for Jennifer to pick up the phone so she could unload the latest gossip onto her. Jennifer despised those calls, completely uninterested in who had broken up who and what teachers did what in their spare time. This hadn't exactly been a normal week though, and that's why Jennifer was trying to avoid picking the phone up, knowing full well it wasn't Linda who wanted to talk with her.

It was inevitable that she was going to go off once again and risk everything she had worked for in hopes that the greater good would prevail, but right now procrastinating in the form of table tennis seemed like a far better option. In the comfort of her pyjamas, waving a bat back and forth and occasionally grabbing a few pringles out of the can, it seemed so much easier, and way more relaxing. Well, maybe not relaxing, because if Peter scored one more point against her there was a high possibility of her breaking the bat, but it was still a whole lot less stressful than trying to advert the end of the world – again.

This was all she wanted to do, stay at home and pretend that nothing concerned her, watch reruns on tv until Monday eventually arrived and she'd go back to school. That was the life her friends lived, the lives everyone apart from her got to live. She had it coming though. Once you chose one battle you can't cherry pick the rest – you're in it till the end and hiding can only last so long.

The obnoxiously demanding ringing suddenly stopped, suspending the house in silence for a moment before the echoing of light footsteps grew louder and louder until the door to the basement swung open, light illuminating the previously shadowed staircase. Balancing on the top step, Maisie peeked her head over the banister. "There's a man on the phone who wants to speak to you," she announced, looking straight at Jennifer, leaving no doubt about who was calling.

Sighing, Jennifer bounced the ping pong ball in her hand back across the table, Peter catching it quickly as it neared him. She couldn't bear to look at him as she climbed the stairs, the sensation of his eyes following her enough for her to imagine the defeated look upon his face. This was as unfair to him as it was to her, but as Jennifer had so clearly said yesterday, she couldn't sit on the side-lines and hope that all would go well – she had to be there, do her best to make sure they got the result they wanted.

Removing the phone from the worktop where Maisie had placed it, Jennifer took a steadying breath before resting the speaker against her ear. "Hello?"

"Jennifer? It's Hank. Paris didn't exactly go to plan." His voice was slightly crackly over the line, but that didn't stop her hearing how tired he sounded – her delayed response to his call had probably only added to the effect of the jet lag.