A/N: Hello! I was inspired by this commercial I saw with Quicksilver for SkyFibre (look it up online if you're unsure what I'm talking about, I promise you won't regret it), and I decided to begin writing a story with him. I know I haven't updated my other stories in a while, but I'm taking a break with them until I figure out where to go. But don't worry about this story, I'm really excited about it. Please let me know if you like it or if you have anything you're dying to see in a Quicksilver X-Men fanfic. I don't have any definite direction I'm taking it in until I see the newest movie in May, so ideas are definitely welcomed. Finally, I'm aware I haven't given the girl a first name yet. It'll come eventually, don't worry.

It was a particularly uneventful Wednesday afternoon when Peter first laid eyes on her. She was leaning over the checkout counter as she read the latest issue of Cosmopolitan, paying more attention to blowing bubbles with her pale pink bubblegum and tapping her wedge sandals to the beat of an ABBA song on the radio in the corner of the shop.

There was nothing special about the way her ginger hair was feathered, or about the way her sun-kissed skin seemed out of place inside on such a warm summer day, yet Peter couldn't help but think that she was a remarkable new development in the history of his small town.

She wasn't only the new teenager who worked for her grandparents in their shop (the shop that Peter always stole his snacks from), she was the beautiful seventeen-year-old girl of his dreams. Horrible taste in disco music aside, she was practically everything he had always wanted in a girl and he had to have her.

Unfortunately for him, she wanted nothing to do with him.

Peter sighed loudly and slammed the ping pong ball into the wall behind Wanda, not even caring about hitting it in her direction. Wanda's eyes narrowed in frustration at his back as he collapsed onto the couch.

Standing in front of the couch, Wanda crossed her arms and looked at her twin expectantly. "You know you can just tell me what's the matter with you instead of sighing and brooding until I ask you what's wrong."

Peter rolled his eyes. "You wouldn't understand."

Wanda snorted and rolled her eyes. "No? So it wouldn't have anything to do with the new girl working at Hamilton's Corner Store?"

Shit, she was good. "What makes you think that?"

"Oh please, Peter," she laughed, "you left two minutes ago to get some popsicles and you returned with an attitude sans popsicles… I saw her yesterday when I went in to get a magazine. She is quite the pretty thing, wouldn't you agree?"

Peter appeared in front of the Pong machine and began to aggressively play against himself, not wanting to discuss what exactly led to his current mood. "I don't want to talk about her."

"Her?" Wanda repeated with a degree of hilarity. "She must really be something to be deserving of such a dignified pronoun from you. What happened?"

"Are you deaf?" Peter asked sarcastically. "I already told you I don't want to talk about it."

"No?" she shot right back. He didn't like the gleeful tone of her voice. "So it wouldn't have anything to do with her power would it?"

Peter's silence was all Wanda needed to know about it; the new girl in the corner shop had bested her twin brother at his game and it was a beautiful idea to behold.

Two minutes prior.

"I'm going out," Peter stated, throwing down the ping pong paddle and running to the corner store with the intention of stealing some popsicles and whatever else he deemed necessary to the enjoyment of his Wednesday afternoon, the first day of summer vacation.

The corner store was an easy target, and perhaps it was too easy of a target for someone with Peter's ability, but he didn't care- it was close to his house and he was lazy. The elderly couple who owned and operated the store made it an even easier target, but, once again, laziness conquered all want of challenge.

When he speeded through the door, the first thing he noticed was that, instead of Mr. or Mrs. Hamilton behind the counter, a girl about his age was manning the shop.

The second thing he noticed, while he raced to the freezer section, was that while she was beautiful, she had horrible taste in music. ABBA wasn't his cup of tea, no matter how many times his mother and younger sister, Lorna, insisted on dancing to it throughout the house. Yet, here this girl was unconsciously bobbing her head and humming to "Dancing Queen."

The third thing he noticed, while he was reaching into the freezer, was that he was no longer speeding around the store and that the girl was standing to his side, glaring at him with an accusatory expression on her pretty face.

"Is there a reason you deem stealing from an elderly couple acceptable?" she questioned him, her perfectly arched eyebrow raised expectantly.

Peter gaped at her and tried to run away again, but she stepped in front of him to block his path of escape. "Do you have super speed too?" he asked dumbly before he could shut his mouth and consider his escape plan.

She cocked her head slightly downwards and to the side and raised her other eyebrow, so that both were raised enough to remind him of every time his mother interrogates him after police come round the house to deal with something he was suspected of stealing. "I asked my question first."

"I don't care," Peter fired back flippantly.

"Fine," she exhaled, "no, I do not have super speed."

"Well then, what do you have?" he replied, still intrigued by her; he wasn't used to being around mutants other than his sister. "Because, let's face it, darling, I know you have some kind of power."

She laughed amusedly at the "darling" part. It was nice to hear it from someone her age instead of the usual creepy older men who she came into contact with. "I'm not answering another question until you answer mine first."

Peter rolled his dark eyes at her response before he gave into her demands. "No, there is no reason. I am just bored."

She was silent for a moment before she shook her head. "Nope, bad reason. Try again."

"Fine, you got me," he exhaled impatiently. "I knew that one day I'd have the absolute pleasure of running into such a wonderful woman as yourself."

"Whatever you say, speedy," she said dismissively, examining her fingernails once more. If he didn't want to answer her honestly, she didn't have to give him her undivided attention anymore.

"What have you done to me?" he demanded finally, reaching into the freezer to retrieve his popsicles once and for all. He'd be damned if he didn't get his frozen treats after this particularly taxing encounter. He deserved a damn medal after dealing with her.

She threw her body onto the freezer door, making it slam shut. "I slowed down time."

Peter smirked smugly, noticing that he liked how she looked pressed against something. "I'm not sure if you noticed, but I'm super fast, darling." He wondered if taking a different approach to handling her would get him out of the store quicker. He read somewhere once that flirting with girls would get them to do things faster, and he was most eager to test it out.

She smirked up at him; even in her wedges, she was still a few inches shorter than him. "Is that supposed to impress me? the fact that you can just move through time faster than other people?"

Peter's arrogant smirk faltered for a moment. "Yes?"

She laughed at his expression as he sized her up, trying to figure out what her power could possibly be. "You can speed through time. I can control time."

"You can control time," Peter repeated slowly, not quite grasping how that allowed her to beat him at his own game. Wanda always made fun of his lack of academic aptitude.

"It's called chronokinesis, and yes, I can," she explained amusedly. "Say you run one mile in one second-"

"Darling, I can run much faster than that," Peter retorted coyly.

She held up a hand to shush him as she continued. "To anyone seeing you at the start of the second, you have effectively disappeared at the end of the second, but you're actually one mile away, having moved rapidly in the space of one second."

She took a step toward him, her blue eyes burning into his dark ones as if challenging him to contradict her. "Now, imagine how fast you would be moving if the second actually was much longer than one second."

"I'm no genius," Peter interrupted, "but one second is one second."

"Not to me," she smirked. "To me, we've been having this delightful encounter for almost three minutes. But to you, and the rest of the world, you've been here for two seconds, tops. It's like I'm creating a pocket of slower time in the middle of normally-running time."

"I'm guessing you're not going to let me take these popsicles today?" Peter asked, eager to change the discussion to something he was more comfortable with. The idea that a teenage girl was in possession of powers that allowed her to slow him down at her will didn't sit well with him.

"What do you think, Peter?" she asked, laughing lightly as if he already should know the answer.

"How do you know my name?"

She smiled genuinely for the first time in their encounter, and Peter found he liked the look of it on her. "Your sister sensed what I was before she even entered the store yesterday. She warned me I might get a visit from you soon."

"That's cheating."

"That's reality," she countered amicably. "She told me you were super fast, but she didn't tell me you had grey hair."

Peter unconsciously ran a hand through his hair. "It's not grey, it's silver."

She turned her head slightly to look at him slyly. "Does that make you a silver fox?" she asked, her voice laced with a mixture of teasing and flirtation that made him confused and intrigued all at the same time.

Peter rolled his eyes, but inside he was incredibly amused by the prospect of someone being a real challenge to him. He'd just have to work harder to sneak popsicles and Hostess snacks by her in the future. "Well, would you look at the time, I really must be off," he said, pretending to look at his watch.

"I control time, Peter, I don't need to look at it," she retorted with a laugh as he left the store in a rush.

Peter returned to the basement and looked at the clock on the wall. She was right, it had been only a few seconds since he had left for the store, but talking with her felt much longer.

He grabbed the ping pong paddle and slammed the ball into the wall behind Wanda.

This was not how he saw his summer going.

Not at all.