Hi everyone, welcome to the newest installment of the LWTA series! If you're just joining in, you might want to go to our profile page and read the previous installments. This one depends on the backstory maybe more than any of the others, so a lot of this won't make sense unless you've read the previous stories. Thanks for reading!

"So, have you ever been in love before?"

Carter lifted an eyebrow at Noh-Varr. "Noh-Varr, Laynie and I specifically told you no alcohol was allowed at this party." Carter said, raising her voice to be heard over the music.

He leaned on the bar, giving her his most suave smile. "Oh I'm not drunk on alcohol, Carter, I'm drunk in love."

"You got no moves," Sam remarked from the other side of the bar.

"Oh my gosh," Carter laughed, shoving his shoulder. "Go away, just go away."

As he was walking away, he looked over his shoulder, winked, and called, "Happy birthday babe!"

Carter leaned against the bar and shook her head as she watched him go.

"Is that guy harassing you again?"

Carter jumped, turning in her seat and squealing. "Peter! I didn't think you were coming!"

He laughed while she hugged him. "Well I'm pretty good at sneaking out of the house by now. Where's Laynie at?"

"Oh, you know Laynie. She's off socializing. I don't do that kind of stuff, given that I don't actually like people that much." Carter shrugged.

"Right," Peter said thoughtfully, sitting beside her. "People. Horrible, terrible people. You shouldn't socialize."

"I really shouldn't. They're just awful, all of them."

"Even me?"

"Eh," Carter said noncommittally, "It depends on the day."

Sam watched them with a sly smile. "So, how long have you two been together?" He teased.

"What? What, no! No, no, no." Carter shook her head.

Peter's face turned bright red. "Sam! We're not dating. We're just friends."

Sam scoffed. "Yeah, okay. 'Just friends.' Whatever you say."

Across the room, Laynie was sending Noh-Varr away for similar charges of terrible pickup lines. "Go pick on someone your own age!" she called after him. He threw a grin over his shoulder.

"It's a good thing he's ridiculously terrible with pickup lines, because that boy is fine," Kate said with a sigh, watching him disappear into the crowd. "Have you talked to your parents about the team anymore?"

"They kind of tune us out when we talk about it now. I'm not sure about Bruce, but I know my dad is ready to punch me the next time I bring it up."

"But they'll come around eventually, right? We can all handle ourselves, and the city needs more than we can each give alone."

Laynie sighed, tugging at the bottom of her unusually short skirt. She had talked herself into a silver-sequin covered dress, telling herself that she's seventeen and it's her birthday party and she can get away with it. But the more boys commented on it and flirted with her, the more she regretted it. "Yeah, I think they will. We just have to keep wearing them down. I just wish there was some way we could prove ourselves."

"Like we haven't already," Kate scoffed.

"No, I mean, yeah, we have. But we need something more dramatic. A real-life situation."

"Well—"

The music was cut suddenly, and Kate's words with it. Laynie swore under her breath.

Sam laughed nervously and gave Carter a wink. "Well, gotta go." He stood from the bar and melted into a crowd of teenagers.

"Oh no," Carter muttered. She grabbed Peter's hand and pulled him behind the bar.

"I thought the Avengers weren't going to be back until tomorrow," Peter whispered urgently.

Carter groaned. "Yeah, so did we."

"What in the world is going on here?" Steve asked. His voice boomed from the doorway and echoed around the entire main floor. He stood with his shoulders squared, shield on his back in full Captain America regalia. There was a bruise forming on his cheek.

Not one person would answer him.

Steve narrowed his eyes. "Anyone who doesn't live here, leave. Now."

Peter stood and jumped over the bar, trying to escape unnoticed. As he passed by Steve, he caught his arm and said, "Not you."

Peter groaned.

Within three minutes, only Laynie, Carter, Kate, and Peter were left. Noh-Varr had somehow escaped with the crowd. Steve looked over the four teens, sitting at the bar and trying to avoid eye contact. He stared them down for a moment, and realized there was a missing culprit. "Sam! Front and center!"

They heard the bathroom door slam, and he came scrambling out of the hallway. He make the worst surprised face as he walked in, pretending he had absolutely no knowledge of the party. He stopped to purse his lips and shake his head at the teens. "Man, I go to the bathroom for five minutes and you go pullin' stuff like this? Ya'll are grounded. All of you. Like..." he turned and looked at Steve. "Three months."

Steve leveled a stare at him.

Sam shifted on his feet uncomfortably, trying to hold up his front. "Can you believe them?" He laughed. "Kids these days, man."

Steve was really not amused. "Really, Sam?"

Sam continued to shift back and forth, slowly inching toward the elevators. "You know what? I'm gonna go up to my room."

He nodded. "Yeah, that's a good idea."

"Not because you told me to or anything," he called. "You don't scare me!"

Steve sighed and turned to the four. "You have about three minutes to explain this to me before your parents come upstairs."

"I think I'd rather explain it to my dad," Laynie said with her hand raised.

"Too bad."

Laynie looked to her friends for help. There was none to be found. Finally, after eating up as much of her three minutes as she could, she spluttered, "Well Dad told us to throw a party!"

"He was being sarcastic, Laynie. Even I got that."

"At least we didn't break anything," Carter said.

Steve turned to the side and gestured to the glass coffee table, which had hairline cracks starting in the middle and spreading throughout it.

"Okay, but we didn't break it."

"And we didn't drink or anything!" Laynie added.

"There's empty beer bottles all over the place!"

"But we didn't drink them! Or buy them!"

He sighed, carefully sitting on the edge of the cracked coffee table. "I think you guys are missing the point."

"Whoa," Bruce said slowly, picking his way through the carnage. "What—what happened here? Carter?"

"Oh, haha, heeey, Bruce. How are you?"

"What happened?" he repeated.

"It was just a small party, that's all."

"Small?" Steve questioned incredulously.

"Yes, compared to every other party ever thrown in this house, that was small."

Steve shot Laynie a glare, and she quieted down.

"What on earth possessed you to think this was a good idea?" Bruce asked, sitting beside Steve.

"Dad told us to," Laynie said.

As Tony walked in, giving the group and the room a perplexed look, Steve said, "Tony! They're claiming you gave them permission to throw a party."

He nodded slowly, surveying the room. "Well, they could have done worse. How many people did you invite?"

"Ehh, fifty?" Laynie looked to Carter, who nodded. "Yeah, about fifty. But a lot of them brought dates."

Tony nodded. "Drinking?"

"Nope."

"Break anything?"

"Well, technically, no. I think Steve should be blamed for the table because he made everyone clear out so fast."

"He used his scary voice," Carter agreed.

Tony grabbed a bottle off the bar and sniffed it. "Well, someone had alcohol. Not any of mine. This stuff is crap." He set the bottle on the table, and the cracks widened a bit. He patted Steve on the shoulder as he passed, and the table shattered.

Bruce and Steve went through, legs and arms caught on the frame as they hit the floor.

The four teenagers at the bar tried so hard not to laugh, but they couldn't control themselves after Bruce burst into hysterics.

Laynie stopped abruptly as she met eyes with her father, who was not happy. He gestured for her to follow as he walked toward the lab. She sighed, slipped off the barstool, and followed.

He collapsed into a chair downstairs, giving Laynie a discontented look. "Was the party your idea?"

She sat down across from him with a thin smile. "No, it was yours."

"Cut the crap, please. Why are you doing this stuff? You're acting like Carter, honestly! I'm not sure what to do with you anymore."

"Well let's go over it." Laynie adjusted her short skirt again, then put her right index finger on her left thumb and tilted her head as she spoke, pretending to think really hard. "The organization my mom devoted her entire life to was destroyed. Natasha is missing. There's a new Avenger, and nobody even told me until he was moved in. Wade is missing! There was another thing. Oh, what was it... Oh yeah. You put off your wedding to hunt down Loki's staff and I haven't seen Pepper in weeks! Bruce and Sam are the only ones around anymore, I don't even get to see you!"

"Are you saying you have a valid excuse to be acting out? You are better than this! Do you really think I'd ever let you have that suit when you're behaving like this?"

"Maybe if you'd let me have the suit in the first place I wouldn't be acting like this!"

"That's not how this works, Laynie." Tony lowered his voice, leaning back in his chair. "You don't get to manipulate me into doing things. All you've done is proved to me that you aren't ready for the responsibility."

"I have never given you any reason not to trust me."

Tony set his jaw. "You've snuck out of the house twelve times. Not including prison break and Christmas Eve. Now this?"

Laynie fell silent, biting at her lip. "Are we done?"

He stared at her for a moment, then sighed and nodded. "Sure, yeah, we're done. You can clean up that mess tomorrow. For now, go to sleep." Tony got up and walked toward the elevator. "School tomorrow."

"Thanks. Good night," she spat.

Laynie took the stairs, partially to avoid her dad, partially to walk off her anger. She muttered to herself up four flights to her apartment, holding her skirt down. The sequins cut into her palms.

She thought it astronomically unfair that, with his history and self-destructive habits, he had the nerve to tell her she was being irresponsible. His defining characteristic was irresponsibility!

Laynie heard her friends through the door of her apartment and stopped to cool off for a minute before going in. She crashed into her couch kicking off her heels with a sigh.

"I thought we were going to die," Peter said from the floor. "I saw Steve and then I saw my life flash before my eyes."

"It's even worse now that they know that you're Spider-Man," Carter giggled.

"You're telling me," Peter huffed.

They were caught off guard when they heard a knocking on the window. Looking toward the window, they saw Noh-Varr standing on the ledge outside their apartment, grinning and waving.

"Oh alien boy, you are so lucky to have gotten out of that one," Kate told him as she opened the window, letting him in.

After crash-landing in the middle of Midtown High in January, Noh-Varr spent some quality time with SHIELD before its fall. Once he had been cleared to stay on earth, Laynie and Carter had quickly befriended him. He was a few years older than even Peter, who would graduate in a week. He had striking green eyes that stood out when compared to his silver hair, normally kept in a neat bun on his head. Beyond that, he was a hopeless flirt.

"Gee, thanks for sticking up for us, Noh-Varr," Carter said from the couch.

"I didn't want to endanger my permission to stay here on earth."

"Oh, sure, fine," Laynie said. "You just bail whenever you need to."

He sat cross-legged on the floor beside Kate. "Thank you, I will."

Laynie scooted off the couch to sit beside Peter. In a hushed tone, she asked, "Any news on Wade?"

"Nothing since you asked last night. Laynie, I promise, if I hear anything you'll be the first to know."

She sighed and walked to the kitchen.

"So, Young Avengers initiative," Peter said, laying back on the carpet. "Any progress?"

"That would be a negative." Carter yawned. "They mostly just ignore us whenever it's brought up. We thought about talking to them about it tomorrow, but after this I'm not so sure that's a good idea."

"It's never going to happen," Laynie called from the kitchen. "Our parents are set on it." She came back with a package of little chocolate milk cartons. She threw one to each of her friends, then flopped on the couch.

"Let's not talk about that," Kate said. "It's not your birthdays, technically, and your party was kinda crashed, but we're still celebrating! I'd like to make a toast." She punched the plastic straw into her carton. "To Laynie and Carter's seventeenth birthdays, and the last week of school."

Everybody whacked their milk cartons together.