{A/N: This one-shot is set in an alternate universe. Vision is a librarian and Wanda is a college student studying psychology, seeking help for a research paper. I was inspired because I am studying to be a librarian and I work as a library page.}
"Ugh, I cannot believe that Professor Barton assigned us this paper due tomorrow." Wanda muttered to Pietro, her twin brother, who was tightening up his running shoes. He glanced up at her and shrugged. "Don't shrug, Pietro. You were the smart one, being a Kinesiology major. I just had to choose psychology." She glanced up from the bench at the library before her.
"Well, Wands. It's time for me to run off into the sunset. Or, more accurately, towards track practice. Perhaps I'll once again be chosen as the fastest on the team." He smirked, and eyed the rear end of a sorority girl walking by. Wanda smacked his arm, frowning. "Good luck on that paper, sis."
"I hate you!" She shouted after him in Sokovian as he started to jog off. He waved a hand and kept jogging away. She tightened the strap on her black messenger bag and trudged into the university library, and took the stairs to go to the level with the majority of psychology materials. She wandered among the stacks for a few minutes before deciding that she had no idea what she was looking for and instead went up to the research desk.
A man with pale skin, blond hair, and blue eyes was sitting behind the desk, leafing through a book. When she approached and cleared her throat, he placed a bookmark against the page he was on and gingerly closed the spine, glancing up at Wanda. The nametag in front of his space said Mr. Vision, M.L.I.S.
"Excuse me, I'm looking for materials on mental health psychology." She informed him, digging the brief for the paper out of her bag. He held out his hand and she gave him the paper. He scanned it quickly and handed it back to her.
"Any specific mental health topic you want to cover?" He asked, turning his chair lightly to start typing in results on the catalog. "Mental health alone has over seven hundred results, and that just includes the books on this floor." She hoped her jaw was not hanging on the floor.
"Um. I'm actually interested in hallucinations caused by schizophrenia." She informed him, and he typed the keys in. He grabbed a post-it from the desk and began to write down numbers of books, then other resources she could find handy.
"Follow me…" He ordered, standing up and beginning his walk into the stacks. Wanda jogged a little to catch up to him, and held her arms out as he handed her several books from the shelves, as well as a few scholarly magazines. He instructed her to sit at a desk, and she pulled out her small red laptop. "Do you know how to access the online databases?"
"Yes. I learned at the library orientation, and I've used them several times for a few papers." She responded, glancing up at him.
He was wearing a red tweed jacket over a navy blue button-up with tan slacks, and seemed much more professional than she was. She was wearing a black zip-up hoodie, a red t-shirt dress, and black leggings tucked into black ankle boots. Her earrings were like spikes, and her dark makeup was probably off-putting. She had pulled her dark red hair into a bun that morning, and some strands were hanging around her ears. He handed her the list.
"Here are resources you can access through the databases. I would recommend reading only the abstracts of them, as well as only reading the table of context and indexes of the books so that you're not reading through endless amounts of pages." He noted, "Anything else, Miss..?"
"Maximoff. Wanda Maximoff. And no, thank you. I'll let you know if I need any more help." She gave him a small smile and dove into the materials he had given her, and he walked back to the desk. She pored over the materials for hours, until the sun had faded away from the outside world and most of the other students had given up for the night. She was almost done with the first draft of her paper around midnight, when the librarian came around to pick up books.
"You're really working hard, huh?" He chuckled, sitting in the desk in front of hers. Most of the books had been shut closed and she was working almost exclusively off of the notes she had scribbled down. She noticed that he had taken off the tweed jacket and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, exposing muscular forearms.
"Professor Barton probably hates all of his students." She muttered, leaning back over her notes and typing something on her laptop. He laughed again, and she was taken aback by the hearty noise in such a quiet place.
"Oh, Clint's a good guy. I think he just expects a lot from his students." He responded, propping his head on his hand. "Are you a psych major?"
"Yes. Although, at this moment, I can't quite remember why." She groaned, leaning back in her chair to stretch.
"It's alright. I understand what you're going through. My undergrad was in psychology." He explained. She gave him a look.
"What led to you becoming a librarian here?" She inquired, then retracted. "You don't need to tell me."
"Did you know that my full name is Vision?" He asked. She shook her head. "My parents thought that they would do away with the idea of last names, and they tortured me with the name Vision, as if I was their vision for how the world should be. Needless to say, I was made fun of a lot in school."
"I'm sorry. I was, too, but my twin brother would beat up the kids afterwards." She explained. He nodded. "It's what happens when two orphans from Sokovia come here, I guess." His face lit up with realization.
"I was trying to place your accent," He laughed. "It always seems to me that these Americans have an accent, though."
"Kind of, yeah. I tried adopting the accent, once, but it felt weird on my tongue. I also tried out your accent - well, not yours, but a British one." She recalled, receiving a laugh from the man, as he continued his story.
"Anyways, because I was always bullied, I spent a lot of time in the school library growing up. I wanted to help others who had been bullied, but after my undergrad and a few years of being a counselor, I decided that I belonged in a library. So, I ended up here." He waved his hands at the stacks beside them.
"Lucky for me. I would've died in the stacks if there was no such thing as a librarian." She said, and he smiled at her. Their eyes met, and she sheepishly looked down. He stood up, taking the books that she slid to him.
"Well, Wanda. Maybe you'll be lucky again and require the aid of a librarian with one name again, someday. Good luck on the paper." He picked up the books and walked away, leaving the young woman to finish writing her paper. When she finally completed it and printed it out in the library, a sign was at the reference desk, stating that reference hours were only from 10am-8pm. But he had stayed until midnight, to talk to her.
When she made it back to the apartment she lived at with Pietro, she snuck in quietly and made her way to her room, changing quickly and collapsing on the bed. She dreamt of a man with a tweed jacket and dazzling blue eyes.