"What movie should we watch?" Kitty asked the boys after Lance had hung up the phone and they had settled into the living room.
"I don't know," Palmer shrugged. "We could watch Casablanca and you could cry again."
"It's a sad movie," Kitty blushed.
"No, it's stupid," Palmer argued. "He sends the girl away with another guy. How thick can you get?"
"It's romantic," Kitty sighed.
"Come on, Lance," Palmer looked to him.
"Rick does what he thinks is right," Lance offered, but when he took in Palmer's look of disgust he added, "Plus Humphrey Bogart's a champ."
"Whatever," Palmer rolled his eyes and moved over to see what movies the guys had. He shuffled through a few before lifting one up, "What's this?"
"Field of Dreams?" Lance's jaw went slack with shock. "You don't know Field of Dreams?"
"No," Palmer shook his head. "Why? Is it good?"
"Is it good?" Lance repeated. "Is it good?"
"It's alright," Kitty shrugged.
"It's epic!" Lance answered. "I can't believe you've never seen it!"
"What's so great about it?" Palmer asked.
"It's ghosts playing baseball," Kitty sighed, bored.
"It's Kevin Costner. It's Ray Liotta. It's James Earl freaking Jones!" Lance waved his hands around emphatically. "It's about a man in search of hope. It's… we've got to watch it. Put it on."
"If you say so," Palmer agreed just before the doorbell rang.
"That must be the delivery guy," Kitty grinned. "Finally! I'm starving!"
"I'll get it," Lance laughed as he got up. Walking to the door, Lance couldn't keep the smile off his face – he was genuinely happy, and he couldn't remember the last time he could say that– but his smile quickly slipped off his face when he opened the door to find someone other than the delivery boy. "Laura?"
"Hi," she greeted him with her lips curled slightly upwards in the corner despite her disheveled appearance and a barely held together duffle slung over her shoulder. Feeling something was off, she paused to sniff the air and began to frown. "Lance…"
"Pay the kid already, my stomach is…" Kitty came up behind Lance and froze. "Laura?"
"You're pathetic," Laura spat at Lance before swiftly turning and stomping away.
"Laura, wait!" Lance yelled as he ran after her. "It's not what you think."
"And what do I think, Lance?" Laura spun on her heels. "I can smell her all over you."
"It's not like that," Lance started. "She's just…"
"A friend?" Laura scoffed. "Yeah right. And I've patched things up with Hydra."
"I wasn't going to say that," Lance crossed his arms. "I was going to say, she's… well, she's not here to see me."
"Then who would she be coming to see?" Laura snapped. "Fred, Todd, or Pietro? Cause they're all just so close."
"Maybe we should go inside and talk…" Lance ran a hand through his hair and shuffled his feet. Laura didn't answer but stood rooted to the spot where she stood in the driveway glaring. "Or not."
"I think not," Laura huffed.
"Well, it's kind of hard to explain, but… Kitty's here to see," Lance bit his lip while eyeing Laura's hands which were poised to release her claws within seconds. He gulped before continuing, "Our son."
"Your son…" Laura eyed him warily. "You and Kitty have a son."
"Yes," Lance answered slowly. Laura watched him carefully before taking a deep breath and relaxing her posture.
"Everything that I can read about your body says you're telling the truth," Laura shook her head, "or I'd swear this was some kind of perverse prank Pietro cooked up."
"No joke," Lance confirmed. "That's really the truth."
"How long was I gone?" Laura's voice was tense and sharp though she let her arms drop to her sides.
"He's fifteen," Lance explained. "We gave him up for adoption, but… well, he's here now."
"Right," she shook her head sadly trying to figure out what now. "So…"
"This doesn't change anything with you and me," Lance ran his hands down her arms, but Laura tugged away as he reached her hands.
"I just… need a shower," she sighed.
"You know where everything is," Lance gestured to the house and they walked up together where Kitty stood uncomfortably.
"Kitty," Laura nodded coolly as she brushed past her and dashed up the stairs. Lance winced as a door soon slammed, shaking the house.
"What's going on?" Palmer came over to the doorway looking from Kitty's teary eyes to Lance's frown and back to Kitty's fist, the knuckles white.
"Laura?" Kitty finally choked out. Lance quietly stared down at his shoes, not saying anything. Kitty grabbed her purse and made for the door, "I should go."
"Kitty," Lance called after her as he followed her outside. Palmer watched warily from porch.
"Laura?" Kitty whirled around as she reached her car. "You know… you know everything and… I can't believe you're screwing around with one of my friends."
"You haven't been friends in years," Lance argued, but quickly backpedaled as he saw the hard look on Kitty' face, "and we're not screwing around."
"So you're just friends?" Kitty arched her eyebrows in challenge. "She's just one of the guys?"
"We're not just screwing around," Lance corrected. Kitty shook her head and opened her car door.
"She was right. You are pathetic," Kitty spat before getting in, slamming the door, and backing out quickly. Lance stood there watching until she was gone and turned back to find Palmer, Pietro, Todd, and Fred on the porch.
"I think I'll go finish unpacking," Palmer offered weakly before practically running inside.
"Let's help," Todd and Fred followed quickly. Pietro stood rooted the spot with a knowing look firmly planted on his face.
"What? No ridiculous excuse?" Lance asked as he made his way towards him.
"You slept with her, didn't you?" Pietro shook his head with a smirk. "Kitty. That night you got drunk."
"Why would you say that?" Lance questioned.
"Because I know you," Pietro answered before laughing, "You really are a terrible drunk."
"I don't know what happened," Lance sighed. "It's all such a blur. But I woke up, and there she was."
"Well she's gone now," Pietro clapped him on the back before going inside leaving Lance with his thoughts.