"I met Mr. Pym six months ago."
Scott cleared his throat, lost in memory. "It was a sunny afternoon. I'd just been released from San Quentin Prison and was breathing the air of freedom when a van..."
"Stop." Miles raised a hand, cutting him off. "I don't care about your thoughts on getting out of prison or your love life. Get to the point. What has that old man Hank Pym been through since you defeated Darren Cross?"
"Oh... Right, right!"
Scott nodded frantically and skipped ahead. "After I dealt with Darren, I went back to Mr. Pym's house. The old man was thrilled. He even asked if I wanted a drink, which he never does, and opened the liquor cabinet he'd kept locked for years..."
"The point!" Miles's voice turned cold, and his gaze hardened.
Scott jolted and hurried past the details. "...Then Mr. Pym sent me home! He warned me not to go near Hope again, but he didn't know Hope and I still called each other all the time. You know, there really is something between us..."
His voice trailed off, and a bashful look crossed his face.
Then Scott saw a long psionic blade appear out of thin air in Miles's hand. It spun deftly around his fingers, tracing streaks of icy blue light.
Miles stared at him with an unfriendly expression, occasionally testing the blade's edge as though considering how to carve up his mouth.
Scott swallowed hard, taking the rest of his words with it, and waved his hands. "Okay, I'll skip that part too. Let's jump straight to the next story..."
"Yesterday, Dr. Pym called me out of nowhere and told me to come to his house immediately." Scott spoke noticeably faster. "As soon as I arrived, he pulled me into his study