DISCLAIMER: One day the first grade teacher was reading the story of Chicken Little to her class. She came to the part of the story where Chicken Little tried to warn the farmer. She read, "... and so Chicken Little went up to the farmer and said, "The sky is falling, the sky is falling!" The teacher paused then asked the class, "And what do you think that farmer said?" One little girl raised her hand and said, "I think he said: 'Holy Mackerel! A talking chicken!'" The teacher was unable to teach for the next 10 minutes.

Michael grinned, crawling slowly down the wall.

He just couldn't understand why he'd never done this before! He couldn't remember ever going through the house upside-down, but wow, was it fun! And it just felt so natural! Like he'd been doing it forever!

Ah, there it was. Misused air vent at three o'clock!

He absently made a mental note to thank someone for not bothering to realise there was built in heating in the house, and gently pried off the rusting gate.

"Not as seen on TV," he muttered, frowning at the small compartment. Not even he could fit in that hole.

Now how was he supposed to get his kicks? He was bored brainless, here.

He blinked, looking back up at his path. He'd heard his mother yell at the Brotherhood, only the night before, about smoking in their bedrooms. There had to be some way that she knew that, when she'd been at work for twelve hours of the day.

The Brotherhood might not have been the brightest bunch, but even they knew better than to let something like smell get in the way. Which meant there had to be… a visual way! Of course! Like his book… what was it… 1984!

Cameras!

It was so simple!

Why had he never thought of this before? Before Toad moved in, he'd been a big TV buff. He could remember thousands of movies, and TV shows. He should've spent the last three years watching Mystique's Big Brother tapes!

"Whoa…"

He paused, flattening his hands and feet against the wall, trying to force back a sudden headache.

Talk about your dizzy spells. He could swear he'd just run into a brick wall.

Now… what had he been doing? Oh, right, going to find his mother's surveillance tapes. Right.

"So. Anyone heard the rat that's moved in upstairs?" began Todd, swinging his chair back lazily. "Loud one, ain't he?"

Wanda closed the fridge with a smirk, chocolate bar in hand. "I'm think about calling him Pietro."

"Yeah, he is pretty fast, hey?" agreed Lance, peering around Fred's shoulder at the dinner.

"And there's another comparison to support my suggestion," she said, raising her bar in farewell as she sauntered out of the room.

Lance rolled his eyes. "She can be okay with her evil overlord of a father, but you ask her for a minute of truce between siblings, and she hexes you."

"Don't she just make your heart flutter?" cooed Todd, clasping his hands over his chest.

"Sock it, Toad," said Lance, collapsing into his chair. "So, you gonna go after the rat, or what?"

"Hey, yo, I eat bugs, not rodents."

"Yeah, but you're the only one that can fit into the walls and put up with all the spiders and junk in there," he said, pointing at him. "Pietro could just make it, but the idea of the dust getting in his hair would probably be enough to put him out for a week."

Fred snorted. "Why's that such a bad idea?"

He grinned, but turned back to Todd regardless. "Just go and check it out, wouldja? Mystique ain't noticed it yet, but I don't want to be around when she does."

"Yeah, yeah, tomorrow night, sure, whatever, man," he said, waving him off, then grinned suddenly, straightening. "Yo, I just got a wicked idea! How's about we paint the rat blue and give it to the X-geeks? Say like, 'yo, here's the only blue fuzzbutt we got', and they can stop pesterin' us and saying we did stuff."

"Yeah, right. Kitty'd probably just say it was Mystique in disguise and beat me up for trying to put a spy in their house…" He sighed, slumping his chin into his hand. "I wish she'd just chill out, you know? It's not like I don't like her or anything…"

"Maybe she's just stressed right now," offered Fred. "You know how close she and the wookie are. You're just… you know… there."

"Thanks, Freddy. That really helps."

"Just saying."

"Hey, maybe you could like, go out and find him, and then she'd be all 'oh, Lance, you're like my total hero' and kiss ya and get all soppy and stuff," jabbered Todd, grinning. "She'd fall in love with you for sure if you're a hero!"

"Right…" he said, raising an eyebrow at him. "And exactly where am I gonna find the blue fuzzball, in this weather, if the X-geeks haven't found him yet? They've got psychics, and weather witches, and that damn badger! What've I got that they don't?"

"Animal magnetism?"

"I repeat: that damn badger."

"Oh yeah…"

"Come on, Toad. It's been two weeks. If the guy don't want to be found, then he won't be found. He's probably dead somewhere, stinking up somebody's trash can."

Michael made a face, scrunching his nose away from the smell.

He loved his mother, he really did. But whatever she kept in that back closet, he just did not want to know.

He frowned, folding his arms in annoyance as he gazed around the room. Okay. So he'd searched the cupboard, the draws, under the bed, over the bed, in the bed and behind the bed… the tapes probably weren't near the bed. But he knew they had to exist somewhere! His mother wasn't a telepath-

He blinked, raising a hand to his head.

-she wasn't a psychic! She had to have some way of spying on the…

"So sick of this dump… s'posed to run through life, not get stuck in… this close to just…"

He frowned, moving over to the door, curious. He could hear someone on the other side. He knew the voice… talking so fast it had to be Quicksilver. The one his mother didn't trust for second. But his room was down the hall… what was he doing down here?

He crouched down, peering through the keyhole. He couldn't see him… oh, wait, there he was, stalking toward him from the other end. Very fast…

"Gonna go nuts in this place, these people are insane!" muttered Pietro, before he turned and headed back the way he'd come.

Ah. He was just pacing. He could never stand still for long.

He clenched his eyes shut, turning his head away from a flash headache.

The last two weeks, he'd just been getting them constantly… in waves.

Maybe he should tell his mother… that hit on the head might've done something…

It would explain why he'd been so restless, too. He just didn't want to be locked down here, anymore. He was bored, and had too much energy, these days. He'd say it was the rain, but that hadn't been going for long enough.

"Argh, what's happening to me?" he groaned, pressing his palm against his eye. "I don't understand!"

Outside, Pietro froze, staring over his shoulder.

He could hear something from Mystique's room.

"Hey, Wanda!" he called, turning back to the front as she reached the landing. "Is Mystique back yet?"

"No," she said blankly, continuing through to her room.

He flinched, spinning around to face Mystique's door, listening to the soft mumble. "You sure?"

"What's your problem, now?" she demanded, leaning against the doorframe. "It's just a rat."

"That doesn't sound like a rat…" he said, slowly. "There's something in there."

"Fine. A raccoon. Something trying to get out of the rain," she rolled her eyes. "There's no reason to be such a wimp."

He scowled, folding his arms. "Hey, look, I didn't want to say anything before, but I saw Mystique bring something home the other week, and now I start hearing noises in the roof, and now there's some thing in her room," he pointed out, raising an eyebrow. "Are you really gonna put it past Mystique to keep some creepy pet in there, until we're all asleep, and then set it on us?"

She gazed at him for a moment, then rolled her eyes. "If she's going to that, she's sure taking her time."

"Like that means anything where Mystique's concerned."

She shook her head, rolling her eyes. "What are you so scared of?"

"Oh, I dunno," he said conversationally. "Maybe one of Mystique's little protégé's coming to kill us all?"

She smiled blandly, raising her chocolate bar to point. "And you have had too much sugar. Go learn how to use a Yo-yo, or something."

"I am telling you, there's something in there!"

"And I am telling you, I don't care!" she cried, putting her free hand on her hip. "We're sending Toad into the crawlspace tomorrow morning. If he comes back dead, I'll believe you. In the meantime, I was in the middle of reading the adult Alice in Wonderland. Now grow up, Pie-pie."

He scowled turning back to the door. He frowned, narrowing his eyes at the sudden silence.

Maybe they were right… maybe he was just reacting to the lack of anything that had been happening lately.

Or maybe Mystique was finally sick of them, and gonna do something about it.

Either way, whatever Toad came back with tomorrow, he wasn't sticking around to find out.

Hey Zero-Vision. Well, yes and no. The name Michael came from that story, but the idea for this came from Yma, and the actual storyline's turning out a lot different. But yeah, basically…

Me- How ya doing? Yugi may be a whore, but he pimps damn well. I'm on 260 reviews for an eighteen chapter story. I am not complaining. But no, I haven't rejoined you. I don't think I'll be visiting the nutboard again… but yes, all hail the Brotherhood! No, no, it's not Meet Mikie, and I hope you can get what's going on. If not, you shall have to wait and see!

Aw, thanks, Yma. The story's gonna speed up next chapter! [/sing] Sorry. That point's been bugging me. I'm glad my discriptions are getting there, though they weren't really in this chapter. I had to chop out a bit cause I kept repeating myself. Don't ya hate it when that happens?

Much thanks, Mimato-4eva. Sorry I didn't review. Combination of stupid computer, schoolwork and laziness. But so far, it looks pretty good. I think once you get into your rhythm, you'll have a fantastic fictive going there.