AN: In this chapter, Lance talks to his girlfriend, eats a late-night snack, and has a conversation with Pietro that doesn't end in an argument. All in all, a pretty good night's work!

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Chapter 7

Lance answered the phone when it rang after dinner, trying to sound very bored and not at all like he was expecting (hoping?) it to be Kitty. It was nearly nine-thirty and he reminded himself that it could be someone else calling, that Kitty might go to bed early or something.

"Hi, Lance? It's Kitty." Her voice, cheerful and bright, made him smile when he heard it. He was glad no one was there to see it, though, because he probably looked really stupid with that grin on his face. He checked to make sure his door was closed for the fifth time before sitting on the bed. He wished he could go out on the roof, but it was raining really hard.

"Hey," he said, striving to keep his voice even. He didn't want to say anything wrong. He would not mess this up, not again.

"So, how are you?" Her sweet voice sounded genuinely concerned.

Lance searched desperately for something to say. Fine. This house is a mess and Wanda is still breaking things, and everyone walks around eggshells with her so she doesn't remember why she hates Magneto, and Pietro has threatened us all with death if we so much as mention it… "You know. The usual."

She laughed. "So you probably played video games, just ate dinner like, twenty minutes ago even though it's after nine, and haven't done your homework yet."

Somewhat shocked by the accuracy of that, Lance blinked. "Uh…yeah, pretty much. How'd you know?"

"Cause you said, 'the usual'," she reminded him, giggling again.

"So what about you? Bet you had a nice little training session dodging lasers, had dinner with everyone, then did all your homework and are now in your pajamas." He imagined her on her bed, lying there in some cute little pajama set, and swallowed as the image made him feel a bit too warm. He imagined her laying there in his bed, wearing nothing at all, and had to make himself think about other things before he said something inappropriate.

"Yup. That's it. Am I that predictable?" she teased, her voice light.

"Am I?" he countered, smiling. He twisted the phone cord around his fingers slowly.

She laughed. "So, are you glad to be a senior? Rogue seems to be sick of school already and it just started."

"I guess. Seems like it will be a long time until May, though." They eased into a conversation without too much trouble, neither of them mentioning anything about mutants or the protests or even Lance's re-enrollment at Bayville. They talked about television and music, and he teased her mercilessly about her strange CD collection consisting of Celine Dion and Shania Twain.

After about an hour, Kitty was beginning to yawn over the phone. "I have to get up early and go to practice before school," she said apologetically. "So I should go to bed."

"Yeah. I should, um, do this reading for class." Lance glanced at his backpack, closed, sitting in the corner of his room. He would likely not do his homework, but it was probably a good idea if she at least thought he was going to.

"You should. So, I'll…um…" her voice became suddenly shy. He thought it was cute. "See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah," he said gruffly, his voice quiet. "Sleep well."

"I will," she said softly. "Night, Lance."

He hung up the phone, glad she'd called him back. Kitty made him feel happy, and he didn't care if everyone in the Brotherhood laughed at him for dating her. She was smart, and funny, and really hot, so they were all probably just jealous anyway. Lance took himself off downstairs, wondering if there was any leftover pizza.

He found Pietro seated at the kitchen table, doing his homework and not looking very pleased about it. Lance wasn't so sure he believed the long-suffering expression on his face was due to his not understanding the assignment. Pietro might be a punk, but he was pretty smart.

He looked up as Lance entered the kitchen, his light eyes wary. "Hey. If you want some pizza, get some before Fred comes back downstairs for his third midnight snack."

Lance looked at the clock over the stove. "It's ten-thirty."

"Yeah, well, you tell him that." Pietro went back to his homework. Something about him didn't seem exactly normal; his jaw was set and he looked more high-strung than usual, his normal arrogance understated.

Lance found a few pieces of pepperoni pizza and carried them over to the table. He ate them cold with a glass of milk. Pietro made a face at his meal but didn't say anything.

"Something the matter with you?" Lance asked, peering at him cautiously. It wasn't like Pietro to let anything go, ever.

"No. Why do you think that? Do I look like something's the matter? I'm just doing my homework. Can't I do my homework without getting the third degree? I do sort of want to graduate so I can get of this stupid town and—" Pietro's voice slid into that rapid-fire speech pattern that made Lance want to wring his neck.

He held his hands up, eyes wide. "Dude, calm down. You just looked funny, s'all." He took another bite of his cold pizza, washing it down with milk. "You know. Funnier than usual," he added, unable to resist.

Pietro looked up and scowled. "Ha, ha. Funny guy, Lance. You should be a comedian. Since you're so funny." Pietro tossed his pencil down on the table and glared at the paper in front of him. He was breathing very quickly.

"Dude," Lance said again, honestly concerned. "Something happen with your sister?" Usually the only thing that got Pietro so worked up was Wanda.

It was the wrong thing to say. Pietro sprang lithely to his feet, his eyes bright with anger. "Shut up about her, Lance. Just don't talk about Wanda. Everything's fine, we're fine, she's fine…" his eyes moved like darts around the room, focusing on everything and nothing all at once.

"Uh, yeah. I didn't mean—would you calm down?" Lance slowly stood up, wondering if he'd have to smack Pietro like they always did in movies with hysterical people. He'd not really mind that, to be honest.

Pietro started, raking both hands through his hair so hard it seemed to Lance he was going to pull all his fair hair out of his head. He took a deep breath, his eyes finally resting on Lance. "Yeah, sorry. I just…how long do I have to cover up for his fucking mistakes?"

Lance blinked at the dark tone of anger in Pietro's voice, different from his usual cocky self-confidence. So they were talking about Wanda. "Nobody said you had to, you know," he reminded him carefully.

Pietro laughed bitterly. "Oh, right. I'm supposed to tell Wanda---" he shook his head. "No. I'm not doing it. She'll be psycho again," he muttered. "I don't want that."

"Dude, none of us want that again. We're not going to say anything." Lance backed up a little at the brief expression of fury on Pietro's face. When he was angry, his resemblance to Magneto was striking. It made Lance nervous. "Don't really think you have to worry about that."

"Oh, you don't, do you?" Pietro's laughter was less bitter, but more manic. "Good for you. Don't worry about it, then. What do you care? It's our last year in this house, isn't it? Mystique's gone, my dad's world-domination ambitions seem to be on hold, and unless Apocalypse shows up for a re-match…" he waved his hand in the air. "What the hell does any of it matter anymore?"

"Because everyone still hates us?"

"They let us back in school," Pietro reminded him.

"Not us, you moron. I mean mutants. You seen the news lately? People are protesting, trying to get us to have to register—"

Pietro made a sound of disgust and cut him off. "I don't have time to watch the news, Lance. I could give a shit about the rest of the world right now."

It finally occurred to Lance that Pietro really must be under a lot of pressure, trying to keep Wanda from remembering that their father had locked her up as a kid. Lance wasn't really sure of the details—all he knew was that Wanda was suddenly less angry at Magneto and that Pietro had threatened to kill them all, painfully, if anyone reminded her that she'd hated him.

Lance hadn't been joking, though. No one wanted Wanda back the way she used to be. Things were at least close to normal now—as normal as they ever were, anyway. "We aren't going to say anything. She'll never know. Besides, don't you think this is the best thing for her? It can't be healthy, her being so mad all the time." His voice was rough; Lance wasn't good at giving comfort, but it was true. He'd seen the pre-whatever-happened version of Wanda. All that stress wasn't good for a person.

His powers being what they were, Lance understood stress and pressure, and when it was enough to break. Knowing what Wanda could do….yeah.

Pietro seemed to calm a little at his words, which surprised Lance. The two of them spent so much time arguing that he'd not realized he was even capable of making Pietro relax. "That's what my father says, that it's better for her that she not remember." He didn't sound convinced.

"Trust me, yo. It's better for everyone that she not remember. She was pissed at you all the time, too, remember? Your dad's probably right." It felt weird referring to Magneto as anyone's dad.

The two of them looked at each other for a moment, and then Pietro nodded and sat back down at the table. Lance washed his hands, greasy from the cold pizza, and turned to leave the kitchen.

"Hey, Lance?"

"Yeah?"

There was a pause, the sort that seemed to stretch on for a long time but was, in fact, merely seconds. "Thanks."

Lance shrugged. "Don't mention it. And don't be late tomorrow morning. I want to at least be on time for class. I don't want to spend half the year in detention."

"Wouldn't want to not see the little lady, huh?"

"Shut up, Maximoff."

"Bite me, Alvers."

Lance shook his head and headed off to bed, grinning.

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NMCL: Ah, I see! Well, that likely makes more sense than my interpretation. Things usually do, though! Anyway, thank you for the reviews! Glad you liked the Pietro and Wanda dynamic. I admit to being a bit obsessed writing them lately!

Nercia Genesis: Thanks! I know, I write fast! I actually usually write two chapters at a time and send them to my beta, then post one at a time. But my beta is incredibly efficient and has caught up with me, so updates after Ch. 8 might be a slower in coming. And don't worry, Rogue and Magneto will be back in all their psychotic glory. Hee! Thank you so much for reading!

BrennaM: Thanks! I love Friends!Wanda and Rogue, I really do. They hopefully will keep each other from being so emo! And yes, will be fun to see what Wanda thinks of her father and Rogue down the road. I imagine she'll be quite shocked! Then again...maybe not..lalala. Thanks so much for the review!

Archmagus: That's okay, it can be a word if you want it to be :) As to your comment, Wanda isn't really having residual memories, she just knows something is wrong--not from what she remembers, but from how everyone else around her is acting. I don't think Mastermind did a shoddy job, but what will make the whole thing fall apart doesn't have to be her remembering--it just has to be someone who is convincing enough that Wanda couldn't possibly think they are lying to her...that's a tale for another day, though. Thanks for the review, as always!