Hey guys :) The picture above is Aspen. Enjoy!

Love and Light,
~Save_Pietro_Maximoff

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Picture is by unknown.

Music is "My Name Is Lincoln" by Steve Jablonsky from the The Island OST.

All rights go to their rightful owners.

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“Big picture? I have a little picture. I take it out and look at it every day." ~Pietro Maximoff

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CHAPTER SIX

The knock on my front door sends me flying towards it. Could it be...?

When I open it, standing in front of me is Aspen. A sigh, of relief or disappointment will be decided later, escapes my mouth as I smile at my best friend. "Penzie." I grab her in a hug.

"Hey, Morning Glory," she says, excited. "What's up?"

I stand back and look my best friend over. "Damn girl, you got tan!"

Aspen's usually pale skin has turned a complementary shade of beige. Her brown hair has red highlights, and the braids in Tolkien's elvish style are lighter. Her brown, almond shaped eyes are framed by dark lashes. She looks like Tauriel from The Hobbit.

Her usual style can be described as hippie/elf/witch. She loves long skirts, ponchos, the colors green and brown, and knitted clothing. She like wearing her fake elf ears to freak people out. It's hilarious.

Aspen laughs. "That's what the DC will do, sweets, ready to go?"

I nod. "Ready as I'll ever be!" I grab my jacket and head out with Aspen.

When we arrive at the café in downtown, I order my usual hot cocoa, and Aspen goes for her green tea. She's a bit of a health nut.

The café resides on the end of a street, snuggly in the woods that start behind it. There is a wrap around porch for people to sit and enjoy their food and company. The antique feel of the building brings character and charm to the people who visit.

We make small talk until our drinks arrive. Aspen tells me of her trips to the cliffs in the Dominican Republic, and how she collected fossils, shells, and even plant and insect remains from the wildlife there. I tell how the gang has been doing, and how fhe Earth Day festivals went.

"So," she says, after the waiter hands us our hot drinks. "How did it go last night with your friend?" She takes a sip of her tea, raising her eyebrows at me.

I roll my eyes. "It went fine. Still haven't figured out a way to get him home, but it'll work out. If he even wants my help anymore."

"What happened?"

"This morning, before you came over, I think I said something," or did something, "and he got a little upset." A little? "It'll be fine, though. He just needed some time alone." I hope.

"Oh dear," Aspen replies, worriedly. "Are you sure, babe? Can I do anything to help?"

I shake my head, forcing a smile. "Nah. I'll figjre it out. Don't worry."

"Okay..." she says, hesitantly. "Don't let him hurt you, okay? Even if he is a friend."

My thoughts rage back to this morning. Pietro pinning me down, my wrists aching. I absent-mindedly stroke the slight bruises that he left behind, and wince internally. "Yeah. I won't."

"Speaking of hurting you-"

"I swear to Odin, the next person to bring that bastard up is going to get their left arm chopped off!"

"Language!" Aspen says, a joking smile on her face. She may not be a huge Marvel fan, and I may not be a huge LOTR fan, but we're practically sisters. I get her references, and she gets mine.

"Seriously though. He hasn't been around."

"Not even a phone call? I talked to his other ex. She said he called her for months before she had to put a restraining order on him."

I gulp. "No calls."

Aspen tilts her head to the side and raises one eyebrow. "You're lying."

I sigh, looking down into my hot cocoa. "Yeah. Okay, he called twice."

"Twice?!"

"Once I didn't answer, and two days ago, I answered by accident. I thought maybe it was you or Vlad."

"What did he say?"

"He wants to see me. In person."

"You told him to go to hell, right?"

"Of course! If he calls again, I'll call the police, okay?" I reassure her.

She nods, looking relieved. "Okay. That sounds good."

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When we pull back into my driveway, I give her a hug and hop out. "You sure I shouldn't stick around?" she shouts through the open window of her small car. "In case dickbag decides to show?"

I shake my head. "Nah. My friend should be back soon." Hopefully. "And I have a gun. I'm all good!"

She smiles. "Okay, call me if you need me. Love you!"

"Love you more!"

"Love you-"

"-Most!"

Yeah. I know. We're cheesy.

I walk into my house to find it empty. I guess Pietro didn't come home after all. I set my jacket onto the sofa back and flop down onto the cushions. I look out my window at the sun in the highest point of the sky.

As I'm gazing out, I see a blue ball about five or so feet off the ground. It's right in the center of my lawn, and it's getting bigger.

Curious, I get off the sofa and hurry back outside. I go closer to the energy forming. I press my finger into the outer layers of light, only to be shocked. Truth be told, I hadn't noticed my hand getting that close. My vision can be horrible. I quickly pull my hand back, learning my lesson.

Don't touch strange energy balls forming above your head in your front yard without parental supervision.

The sky starts to darken and the clouds above my head turn deathly dark. They start to swirl, and the ball of blue light turns menacing. My eyes grow wide as a huge bolt of blue lightning comes down from the sky, almost in slow motion.

Then everything slows almost to a stop. I see a trail of blue coming towards me from around the corner.

Pietro.

I reach my arm out for him. He comes in just as the lightning is about to hit the ground, and me, and whisks me away from the danger zone. He hides me in his chest from the shock waves, protecting me.

The lightning strikes, sending a shock wave out at least thirty feet. We are barely past that. Pietro and I turn to the crash site. In the scar of burnt grass, we find a single item there: a photograph.

A picture of two children, one boy and one girl, and two adults, I assume parents. The young boy looks to be about ten. He has longish brown hair and a sweet smile. The girl looks to be around the same age, and her dark light brown locks curl around her innocent face. The mother is gentle and sweet looking, and their father looks stern and serious, but a slight grin is on his face, showing pride.

I lean down to pick up the picture, but Pietro beats me to it. "Боже мой," he whispers, looking at the photograph.

"Who are they?"

"They are my parents and Wanda."

Pietro then does something very surprising to me. He places the photo down, turns around to face me, and grabs my hands. His touch feels just like I remember it. I never knew how much I missed it. "Glory, I am so, so sorry. I appologize for what I did. I hurt you, I know I probably scared you." He pauses, lifting up my wrists to get a better look at them. "May I...?"

I nod, giving him permission.

He rolls up my sleeves, exposing the slight bruising he caused. He grimaces, his face contorting. "Does it hurt?"

I shake my head, subtle tears forming in my eyes from his gentleness. "Not much."

Pietro's eyes meet mine for the first time since this morning. The blue iris's are rimmed with red. Either he's allergic to pollen from pine trees, or he's been crying. "Pietro..." I whisper.

Pietro lifts one of my wrists to his lips and kisses the bruises softly, over and over and over. My knees weaken at his touch, my mind going nuts over the contact. He does the same to the other wrist.

I smile as he places a small kiss on each of my knuckles, a gentleman's gesture. "You are, by far, the best gentleman I've ever met," I tell him.

"Can you forgive me for my wrong doings?" he asks.

I nod. "It's okay. You didn't mean it. I'm sorry for waking you the way I did. Clearly something I did set you off-"

"No," he interrupts. "It was nothing you did. I was having bad dreams. And normally, Wanda keeps them away, so I assumed they were real, and I ended up hurting you in the process. For that, I am eternally apologetic."

I reach out for him, almost to the point of overflowing tears. Hugging him close to me, I mumble, "It's okay, Pietro." I reach down for the photograph. "Where the hell did this come from?" I look back into the sky for the bad weather, but it's gone.

"Maybe someone was trying to send something to us?" Pietro suggests. "To me." His tender touch takes the photograph from me. "I wish I knew."

"I do as well."

END CHAPTER SIX

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Russian words:

"Боже мой."

English translation:

"Oh my god."

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So guys, what do you think I should call my couple here? Plory? Gietro? Comment your thoughts and ideas below! :)

Love and Light,
~Save_Pietro_Maximoff