When Vision returned from the mission in Bucharest, the last thing he expected to register was the scent of cinnamon, burnt sugar and chocolate. He so rarely acknowledged any of his new-found senses, that the realisation that he had them was still jarring. He ran through the process of elimination, and made a logical assumption that one of Agent Wilson's sisters had left them a plate of baked muffins.

Given this level of thought, he glided into the kitchen with the intention of covering the plate, when he stopped in the doorway. It wasn't a Wilson in there. No. It was Wanda. He felt a strange tightness in his chest, and looked down for a moment, struggling to analyse his emotions and chemical responses.

"Vision?" Wanda sounded surprised, and he regarded her for a moment, unsure of what to do, nor say, in her presence. She was dressed in an oversized sweater, and thick black tights, which she glided across the room in. Her hair was loose, and her rings were placed to one side.

"Wanda. I didn't... I apologise, I didn't realise you were cooking." he explained carefully, descending until his feet touched the ground. Her gaze remained on him for a moment, and a little smile broke free on her lips.

"I am. Or, I was." she corrected herself. "How was your mission?"

"Successful. Letitia Dominguez is now being taken to a maximum security prison."

"Good. I'm glad."

"Yes." he couldn't leave it like that. As much as he wanted to prepare himself, he couldn't just walk away from her now. "What were you cooking, might I ask?"

"Many things." she replied, pausing for a moment as she checked on the oven. "There was a recipe book in the library."

"Yes, I believe that was an attempt on behalf of Agent Barton to make the base more domesticated." he agreed benignly. Wanda laughed slightly, an uncommonly lovely sound, and he felt a strange stirring motion in his chest as he smiled over at her. Tony had told him some time ago that he was unintentionally funny. Was this a key example of that?

"And is it working?" she asked him.

"It certainly seems to be, now." he agreed softly. When her green eyes flicked up to him in surprise, he felt his eyebrows lift a touch in a similar emotion.

"Would you like to try some?"

"Some?" He felt bizarrely foolish, and tried to gather up some form of logic to try and deduce what she was talking about.

"Of the desserts." she clarified, gesturing to the window ledge that the baked goods were sitting on. He straightened his posture slightly, placing his hands on the counter, as he'd seen Tony and James do countless times.

"My taste buds-"

"Aren't too developed, yes, I'm aware. Perhaps we can develop them now?" Wanda offered tentatively. He opened his mouth, then closed it. He couldn't bring himself to say no. Had it been Tony, or Sam, or Peter, then yes, he might've been able to do it, but not to her. Not to Wanda. And that's how they ended up sitting at the counter, an hour later, eating rhubarb cobbler fresh from the dish.

The thing was, he knew that they couldn't side step around the metaphorical elephant in the room much longer. Otherwise, Vision could've sat with her in the kitchen, eating cobbler, drinking in her beauty until the world ended. But he didn't. Instead, he spoke up, and this time, he did so haltingly.

"Wanda... I truly am sorry, for... For not being of greater help to you." he began quietly. She swallowed a spoonful of rhubarb, and shrugged one of her slender shoulders casually.

"You were in Bucharest." she reminded him, misunderstanding, he assumed.

"That's not what I mean." he told her gently, one magenta hand cradling the dish of cobbler.

"I know." she admitted softly, lifting her gaze to meet his. "Vision, you shouldn't blame yourself when you did everything you could."

"I didn't. I shouldn't have let you leave."

"Vision..."

"You wouldn't have been out there, vulnerable, afraid. I might not have experienced those yet, but I understand how they must feel-"

"Vision, stop." Wanda pulled the dish from his lap, moving closer to his side and lacing her fingers with his. "Don't. Don't do that to yourself. You warned me. You tried to stop me. And I threw you through the earths crust." When he was about to protest, her hand flew up, and her thumb rested against his lips gently. "We can spend centuries arguing over whose fault it was. But you saved me. You gave me hope. A reason to fight on and live. A... A reason to become a better person." she added softly, dropping her gaze.

"You already are good, Wanda." he replied quietly. And this time, when she looked up in surprise, he captured her lips in a soft, brief, sweet kiss. It tasted like rhubarb and sugar and spices, and it only lasted a moment, a fleeting, yet memorable moment for the two of them. When he pulled away, Wanda gently moved her hand from his shoulder to his cheek, caressing it lightly.

"Because of you." she replied tenderly, her voice quiet, breathy, and loving. When she walked away, Vision felt a surge of something good and strong inside of him. The tightening in his chest released itself, and he placed the dish on the side of the sink, a tiny, hopeful smile on his lips.

Maybe everything would be alright, after all.