Shenanigans
Peter woke to the plane dipping down and coming to land on the tarmac. He was wide awake now after his nap and ready to get off the metal tube. He pondered whether his Vati would allow him to just run home for the second trip. He didn’t have much hope for that happening though, his father hadn’t even been comfortable with him running the ten miles back in DC. Peter could outrun anything they tried to throw at him, his Vati was just the overprotective type.
He got up from the bed stretching himself out with a lingering yawn and walked into the other cabin. He saw his father was still impeccably dressed and didn’t look like he had just finished an eight hour plane ride. Peter on the other hand looked rumpled. His clothes had more wrinkles than a sharpay and his face was covered in raised red lines from sleeping.
“Did you sleep well?” Charles asked, giving Peter a look he couldn’t place.
“Yeah it was great!” Peter grinned.
“Pietro are you ready to get off the plane?” Erik asked, lightly.
“Yeah! Can’t wait to blow this popsicle stand! Also you do know I go by Peter now right Vati?” Peter asked, he hadn’t bothered to correct him yet because he had been too hyped up from breaking into the freaking pentagon. Erik’s brow furrowed at his sons omission, he had heard the other men calling him Peter but he had thought it was just a lazy American thing.
“Why?” Erik’s voice held a hint of disgust and incredulity. He and Magda had chosen the twins' names because they represented a piece of the homeland that was stolen from them.
“Oh it was just easier for Wendy and I when we started school,” Peter waved it off like it wasn’t a big deal. It was a very big deal to Erik though he refused to call Pietro or Wanda by some common Americanized version of their names.
“Wendy!?!? No you are Pietro and she is Wanda. You are not Peter and Wendy and you definitely aren’t going to neverland,” Erik drawled and Peter couldn’t help but blush. He had hoped that his father wouldn’t pick up that the twins had chosen the names based on their favorite children’s book. He should have known he would though they had asked him to read it frequently as children.
The rest of the men looked uncomfortable as they waited for the stairs to be secured to the side of the plane. Logan had known that Erik and Peter fought often about the name thing. Peter, despite being born in the Ukraine, was truly an American child. He loved pop culture and rock bands and the name had always been a point of contention for Erik and Peter and it seemed like it always would be.
“You two can discuss this later. I'd like to get some dinner before every restaurant in Paris closes. Someone ate every scrap of food on the plane,” Charles throws a pointed look at Peter who only grins at him. His metabolism runs extremely fast like most things with him and he burned a lot of calories on top of that moving at superspeed.
“I’d say sorry but I’m not, speedsters gotta eat,” Peter chuckled and he laughed harder when his Vati and and Charles seemed to roll their eyes in unison at his antics.
***
It seemed that most restaurants in Paris were closed at this hour after all. Charles had grumbled a bit but had eventually found a hotel that had 24hr room service. Peter was in awe of the hotel, he knew He shouldn’t be. Charles was filthy rich and someone that had their own private luxury jet would definitely be able to afford a five star Parisian hotel.
“Do you think they have a pool” Peter asked his father, while Charles was at the front desk getting the keys for their rooms.
“I would think so, it’s probably closed at this hour though” Erik replied, and was starting to wonder if letting Peter take a five hour nap was the best decision. The boy would be up for hours now and Erik was extremely tired. If the worst thing the child did while Erik was asleep was break into a closed swimming pool that would be the best case senario.
“That’s lame, I’m hungry you don’t think they have chicken do you? I really don’t want to eat snails. I heard that’s what all the French people eat here. That’s kind of gross to me, I mean snails are cute in a gross sort of way. Who would want to eat something so slimy and gro…” Peter rambled before being cut off by an exhausted Erik.
“I can assure you they will have something other than escargot on the menu,” Erik replied and Peter grinned his lopsided, dimpled grin. Erik couldn’t help but smile back, even at fifteen and so close to manhood the boy couldn’t help but be adorable.
“That’s a relief dude because eating snails is so not rad,” Peter sounded relieved and the rest of the men were reminded just how young the speedster was.
“I’ve gotten three rooms I figured Erik and Peter would obviously share and Logan can have his own room” Charles prattled on as he walked over towards the waiting group. Erik was just glad he didn’t have to keep having a conversation about snails.
“When can we eat because I’m hungry?” Peter asked and Erik took a deep breath to soothe his nerves. Peter seemed to have a one track mind when he was hungry it seemed.
“You can order whatever you want from room service once we get settled in Peter or should I say Pietro,” Charles sent him a pointed look which made the teenager groan irritated.
“Vati why did you have to tell everyone my name was Pietro, I like Peter more,” Peter whined and Logan made a sound of irritation.
“If you two start that argument back up I’ll kill both of you” Logan glared at the father and son duo. Erik had in fact been about to educate his son again on his name.
“Let’s just get upstairs so we can get some food and some sleep,” Hank sighed and everyone gathered into the elevator. Peter was awkwardly squished between his father and Logan who were both suitably grumpy.
His eyes kept farting between the men wondering what his Vati might do if he decided to mess up everyone’s hair with his super speed. He eventually decided against it. He needed his Vati in a good mood because he definitely wasn’t going to be staying in the hotel until they were done tomorrow. He was going to help save his Aunt Rae, it was a matter of principle.
“ We can all eat in my room before going to bed and make a game plan for tomorrow,” Charles informed them, running a hand through his shoulder length hair.
Once they were all settled in the room and looking through the room service menus. Peter started to get excited. He was really hungry and Charles told him to order whatever he wanted. People usually only made that mistake once. Once the menu was passed to him he excitedly started flipping through. He didn’t know what a lot of it was but he would just order everything but escargot.
“Peter do you want to Order for us? I've written down what everyone wants,” Charles asked the silver haired teenager who took the menu and the paper and dashed to the phone to order.
***
“I wonder what’s taking so fucking long,” Logan grumbled in irritation at the wait. They had been waiting for their food for over an hour now and everyone was getting antsy. Peter felt slight anxiety creep up his throat, maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to order one of everything along with what everyone else ordered. He had been excited and blinded by his hunger pangs though. Peter also wasn’t known for making the best decision so really it was their fault for tasking him with the food order. I mean he had agreed to break someone out of the pentagon with strangers at fifteen he wasn’t a beacon of proper decision making.
“Maybe it’s because it’s late?” Hank suggested. Peter bit his lip and made a sound at the back of his throat. His father shot him a suspicious look. Peter turned red at his father’s calculating gaze.
“Peter,...” Erik was about to start interrogating the too quiet teenager but was promptly cut off by someone pounding on the door. The knock sounded annoyed if a knock could sound annoyed. The jig was up and Peter was about to be found out. Charles went to get the door and choked when he saw four bellhops each with a full rolling cart of food.
The bellhop said something to Charles in French and the long haired man shot a look at the silver haired teen. Charles was muttering what sounded like apologies in hastened French. Peter turned to look away from the annoyed bellhop but saw that his father had a stern look on his face.
“You ordered the entire menu,” it wasn’t a question and his Vati looked even more exhausted if that was possible.
“Well I can’t read French so I just ordered one of everything,” Peter rubbed the back of his neck grimacing.
“And you didn’t think to ask for help?” Erik deadpanned. After being away from his son for ten years he was trying very hard not to get annoyed with him but the boy was making it very hard. The bellhops began rolling in the carts of food and Charles was staring at the teenager incredulously.
“Bloody Hell Peter,” Charles sighed, staring at the food with wide eyes.
“I’m sorry?” Peter asked and his Vati shot him another look.
“Why?” Hank asked, staring at the food.
“I told you I don’t speak French,” Peter defended half heartedly.
“Do they not teach French in school anymore?” Charles asked, looking for his dish in the mess of covered trays.
“They do but I took Spanish,” Peter said sheepishly “yo sé espanol”
His father buried his face in his palms in frustration and Logan burst out laughing. The gruff laugh startled the silver speedster who looked at him with wide eyes.
“I’m glad I got to meet you as a kid, kid. You’re something else,” Logan chortled. Hank began to chuckle as well which led to Charles laughing and finally his Vati cracked a smile.
They all ate and surprisingly Peter ate more than half of the dishes he ordered much to everyone else’s disgust. Hank was fascinated again by Peter’s mutation wanting to see just how fast his metabolism ran.
Soon everyone was settled in their separate rooms and getting ready for bed. Peter was watching the television loudly when Erik used his mutation to crank the knob down low. Peter began to protest but was cut off by his father.
“Pietro, not everyone got a six hour nap on the airplane I need to rest. Turn it down or turn it off,” Erik groaned and Peter sighed, settling in to watch tv until his Vati was completely asleep. He had decided after landing that he wanted to go out and see the city. He knew his father would never go for that though. His Vati had always been much more of a helicopter parent than his mother. Magda had given up trying to stop his escapades when he was thirteen. Erik had an easier time keeping up with Peter. All he had to do was pull him to a stop by the metal on his belt or the zipper on his jacket.
Once Peter heard the soft snores of his father he darted out the door. He wanted to get his mama and sisters something nice. Lorna was going to be so jealous that he got to go to Paris. The nine year old had developed a weird obsession with Julia Child.
He stopped by the Louvre first, taking in all the sites and snapping pictures. He was pretty sure that guy who painted the blurry lilies was French. His mom really likes Monet so he decided to snag her a small one making sure to steal the camera footage so they wouldn’t see him. He also made sure to stop by the gift shop and hook his sisters up with some France themed stuff.
The rest of the night he spent exploring the city occasionally breaking into a bakery for a snack. It was close to three am by the time he finally made it back to the hotel room he was sharing with his father. He put his ‘treasures’ which included a knife set stolen from the school where Julia child studied and a designer purse for Wanda. He also picked up a purse for his mom just in case Vati made him return the painting.
He flopped unceremoniously on the bed and quickly fell asleep.
***
It was five thirty in the morning when Erik awoke to the mess of stolen goods in his shared hotel room with his son. He almost choked when he saw that one of the items was a stolen Monet. He felt a flash of anger and annoyance at Pietro. It seemed like the child had no care for his own safety or well being much less other people’s property.
“Pietro Django Maximoff!!!!” Erik’s voice boomed through the room causing the boy to stir and look up at his father with sleepy eyes. Some of his anger melted a bit because even at fifteen years old Pietro was still very much a child. He still had innocent eyes that only a child could have. Erik bent to pick up the painting taking care not to damage it.
“What is the meaning of this!” He demanded of his son who blinked up at him owlishly.
“Mama likes the French guy who painted the water lilies,” Pietro said impetuously. He thought the fact that it was for his mother and not himself would make it okay.
“You will go and return this to the Louvre where you stole it before anyone gets there and realizes it’s gone,” Erik demanded, trying to keep his anger. Magda had always been the better Disciplinarian, Erik had always folded under his children’s gaze and hadn’t been able to tell the no.
“Do I have to?” Pietro whined his lower lip jutting out childishly.
“Yes you do and I hope you remember to steal the video footage of you!” Erik replied exasperatedly.
“Fine,” Pietro said sadly and in a blink he was gone along with the painting. In a matter of 30 seconds he was back still pouting.
“I don’t know why it’s such a big deal,” He continued to complain less whiny now that he was fully awake.
“Pietro, art theft is a serious offense. Do you know who else stole art? Nazi’s they emptied entire museums, if the art remains in the museum everyone can enjoy it. Do you want to be like a Nazi?” Some of Erik’s anger was back and Pietro’s eyes went wide. He hadn’t thought of it like that and the boy felt the guilt come crashing down. Maybe he could just run his Mama here to see them.
“No Vati I’m sorry I didn’t think of it like that,” Pietro admitted and Erik, unable to help himself, gave his son a big hug.
“I’m going to go get ready for the day, you can go back to sleep but if someone doesn’t come for you by 10am I need you to run home as fast as you can,” told the boy ruffling his already mussed silver hair.
“Where are you going?” Peters asked trying to sound nonchalant like he was just curious.
“The Paris Peace Accords, we just need to go get Raven that’s where she will be.” Erik answered and Peter hatched his plan to leave for the accords as soon as his father was gone. He would be able to make it there before them. So he laid back down feigning sleep until his time came.