Summary: Widdle Pietwo is just the teensiest bit upsetted at what he finds behind the bleachers. Then he falls off a cliff. Todd/Kurt slash.

Warnings: Nudge-nudge-wink-wink moments and truly horrible double-entendres. I apologize profusely. Also, (failed) late-night attempts at humor. Also measured amounts of elf-camp.

Rating: R for said nudge-nudge etc.

Additional Pairings: One-sided Pietro/Todd. (But then, Pietro's after everyone.)

Author's Note: Yeah, I like to torture Pietro. He's really made for it. Another pure-dialogue story. If anyone can actually follow this, you amaze me no end. Also: Does anybody else know why there's a cliff in the middle of New York? Just out of curiosity...

Disclaimer: Todd, Kurt, and Pietro do not belong to me, but instead to Marvel, WB, and some other dudes. For this the world is very grateful.


Over the Edge




"Oh god, Todd..."

"Hey, what didja have for lunch? It tastes kick-ass."

"Who cares?"

"Well—good, ah, point..."

"Ja. Mm--hey--hey! Wait a second! Do you hear--?"


"--cannot believe you Toad you are such a bastard what's wrong with you why are you here and with him what's wrong with me you asshole--"

"Well, for one thing, yo, you're a paranoid psycho--"

"Dude, was he just spying on us?"

"He's Pietro. He spies on everybody."

"Voyeuristic tendencies?"

"Um, don't think so. It just jerks him off."

"...Right. Well, I'm offended. Let's go."


"Why the hell are we behind a dumpster?"

"Thought you'd like it."

"Ouch, man, that's a low blow."

"Ja, and speaking of which..."

"Wh--hot damn, boy!"

"Mmf. Mm?"

"Fuck yes--"


"Damnit, Pietro--"

"Mmf--ah, not again!"

"--that's right now slowly back away from the toad--"

"Like hell I will!"


"Oh god. Of all places--"

"I didn't mean to!"


"Oh, yeah! The middle of the freeway is way better than the school bathroom!"

"Shut up!"



"Yeah, but why here, yo?"

"The sunset brings out your eyes, dahling."

"Yuck. And we're at the edge of a cliff. Very cute. You need more hair, fuzzy, 'cause it ain't streaming in the wind right."

"I'll get on that right away."

"Plus you should be mooning at me, dawg."

"Well, if you'd sweep me off my feet like a real man, maybe I'd moon you. I mean at you."

"Ha, ha. You crazy? I'd fall of the cliff!"

"Which brings me to the other reason I brought us here..."


"--don't think I'm going to give up I won't let you alone don't think for a second you've won Wagner because I'm going to make your life hell in all sorts of imaginative little ways and YAAAAAAAA--"



"That worked very well, don't you think?"

"You wanted him to fall in? That's cold."

"That was kind of the intention."


"What, do you want to fish him out?"

"What? Hell no! He'll speed his way outta there in no time. That's the problem."

"Ah. 'Porting time again?"

"Yeah. Somewhere more private this time, okay? And no dumpsters, yo."

"Oh, damn. Dumpsters are sexy."

"You are completely fucking insane."

"Oh yes. And you are Mister Clear-headed, ja?"

"Well, um, not if you do that."

"Sehr gut. Let's go."


"Well, damn. Nice bed, fuzzy.

"Ah, he approves. I'm so glad."

"Largish, too."


"You think we'll need more room?"

"It's possible. Probable, even. But I suppose we'll make do, eh?"

"Fuck Pietro."

"Or something."

"Or something."