Chapter 8

Wanda sat at the counter, her eyes cast down at the plate in front of her. He was on the opposite side, watching her with a keen and appreciative gaze. While he both liked and found such methods of observation useful, he was also aware that it was quite an unusual practice to so closely examine his significant other as she went about the necessities of life. As such, he had enquired as to her feelings regarding his observations, being clear that if she perceived it to be strange in any manner, or an intrusion of her privacy, then he would cease to do so without hesitation.

At first he expected that she may be humouring him, especially given the shift in their level of intimacy with one another. Yet Wanda was always honest, and the way that she smiled so openly with bright, wide eyes, and also touched her hand to his forearm tenderly, told him without doubts that she was happy for him to continue.

Her hand was curved around the slice of toasted bread, which crunched as she took a generous bite. Her tongue darted out between her lips to collect small crumbs that had gathered at the corners and she made satisfied noises as she digested the bite, which told him that the food was particularly pleasing. He had read many times that breakfast was considered not only the most important for sustenance but also the most enjoyable meal of the day, and the underlying logic could hardly be questioned.

Aside from in moments of particular anxiety, Wanda ate every meal with relish, savouring each mouthful which was not to be taken for granted. It made him happy to see her take enjoyment in what was an understandable pleasure – at least, to humankind. When they were together like this, first thing in the day and last at night, she was especially relaxed and the benefits for her wellbeing were plainly visible.

He felt himself smiling as he regarded her, her eyes meeting his in recognition of him doing so, which made his face heat up.

"This is so good," she said after the moment had passed. He watched as she tore off a soft, golden piece from the middle of the slice, folding it in slightly before she brought it to her mouth. Again, she made the same humming noise, only louder on this occasion. "Mmmm, soooo good."

"It certainly sounds as though you are enjoying it."

"Mm-hmm."

He smiled again, very glad of the fact. Of late, he had reached the conclusion that his own experiences of the world did not provide as much joy to him as knowing that Wanda felt happy, safe and secure did. He wanted nothing other than to keep her so for as long as it was possible for him to do so.

She leaned forward slightly on her stool. His gaze was pinned to her, although in conflict as whether to focus on her face as she savoured what was left, or on her hands as they worked upon the food in advance, prolonging the blissful experience.

"You should try some," she said, her lips curving into an excited smile.

The suggestion was an appealing one, his curiosity long having been piqued by observing the obvious delight Wanda took from eating.

"Unless…" she quickly backtracked, her body recoiling too, "I don't want to pressure you."

He shook his head before speaking. "I have suspected for some time that I am missing out, but it would seem in this instance I am especially so."

"I mean, you're not missing out on a lot." She broke off a piece that was smaller than the portions she had been feeding herself. "But this French toast is the best I've ever had. Perhaps of any food, ever."

"That is a substantial claim, but then again I have no frame of reference by which to compare."

"You'll just have to take my word for it, then."

She offered the piece out to him, and he noticed that she tensed her shoulders as he took it from her, lifting it to his mouth.

"Sorry, ignore me."

He had assured her several times previously that there was no reason to believe that consuming food would prove hazardous to him. He could understand her concerns, however, considering that he had so far refrained, in all the time he had spent with the other Avengers and despite trying his very best to assimilate all manners of human behaviour.

He hesitated for a brief moment, seeing that Wanda was watching him with some cautiousness, before folding the piece in half with his fingers – as he had observed her doing mere moments previously – and popping it into his mouth.

The bread was soft and sweet, and fizzled a little against his tongue. The sensation was peculiar, but not unpleasant. The taste continued to improve as he chewed, and he nodded his head a little in approval, knowing that it was polite to finish a mouthful in completion before making the choice to speak once more.

"That was very nice, indeed." He was pleased to behold Wanda beaming a smile in response to his appraisal. "I do wonder if perhaps we have set the bar too high on the first occasion."

"Oh, I think it's worth it."

She set to work on fairly distributing the remainder of the toast between them, feeding the last morsel to him with her fingertips and giggling softly as she did so. The elation he felt at this new shared experience could hardly be contained within himself.

"I could learn to make this myself," she mused, "toast has got to be easy to get right, surely?"

"I would think so," he responded with a smile of encouragement.

Before they left the hotel for the day he would kiss her and taste the sweet remnants upon her tongue, smiling at the memory but also simply at sharing in the time with her, everything they chose to do together as much of a pleasure as the last thing.

"In the meantime, taking advantage of room service isn't so bad."

He smiled at her, imagining plates upon plates of French toast filling their room for the little time they had left to occupy it.

"Certainly not when the product is so good."

Breakfast might have been the only meal he had partaken in thus far, but he could already imagine that it would be his favourite.


The house was quieter since Natasha had left for New York, keen to make preparations for the new Avengers operations and promising to be in touch when all was at a sufficient state of readiness. Cooper and Lila were at school for the majority of the time over five days of the week, so for the most part it was occupied by the five of them. It was pleasant to have the extra space and certainly, the additional peace afforded by a lowered level of noise for several hours of the day was another aspect that both Vision and Wanda found to be beneficial.

Little Nate still required a good deal of amusement and prevented things from being too quiet. The youngest member of the Barton family was as enamoured with Vision as ever, something which he was equally flattered and fascinated by. He had just as much to learn from Nate as vice versa and found their times together deeply enriching.

It was just as satisfying for him to observe Wanda with Nate from a small distance, playing and reading, an activity which he was particularly moved by considering that Wanda had not been that confident in her abilities reading in English until very recently. The way that young Nate peered up at Wanda could not be ignored, and in turn the way in which she responded with such enthusiasm and compassion was a spectacle which could cause even the hardest of hearts to soften, and when accompanied by the joyful laughter of both parties would most certainly render anyone in the close vicinity deeply sentimental.

Yet, as he watched with profound fondness, Vision was also struck with sorrow. His personal shortcomings were of little consequence if he were to think of them for his own sake, but they became amplified when it came to Wanda. There were things they had not yet discussed in terms of their relationship, although it seemed to be the case that they shared prospects that went into the future by some distance. Perhaps it was a natural consequence of spending time with the Bartons that led the idea of children to figure within his thoughts. Questions of biology were not the sole complicating factor, although it was the most sizeable barrier to overcome. Put simply, he could not fathom any way in which it would not prove impossible for him to father children. Even so, he was finding it difficult to renounce the possibility altogether, especially when Wanda appeared to be so content with Nate and did just as well in her dealings with both Cooper and Lila.

There were other avenues to be pursued – adoption and fostering, to name but two – and he also imagined that it might be slightly premature to discuss these with Wanda as yet.

He did, despite having spent the majority of his life in a domestic arrangement predominately with other males, seem to seek out the company of females. Laura was a wonderful woman, with many qualities that were deeply admirable. In particular she had a talent for baking which he hoped to learn from, if he could not emulate entirely. In general her nature was serene as well as being practical, and it felt comfortable to gravitate towards her.

He was well aware that being comfortable was not a state that was conducive to progress, at least not permanently.

Broaching the subject of quality time with Clint was not as daunting as he had first considered it might be, with Mr Barton being receptive to the idea. Wanda, whilst not teasing, spoke in a certain way when discussing the topic with Vision alone, referring to it as their 'guy date'. When he responded measuredly that he doubted that Clint would view it as such, she smiled and nuzzled against him, and then later said that she was glad that he was making the effort.

"Oh, I do not consider it to be an effort to spend time with Mr Barton, even if we have not typically sought one another's company."

"Figure of speech, Vizh," she had replied, with a glint in her eye.

"Ah, I see."

She smiled once more, draping her arm against his mid-section. "I'm still glad about it. And I'm sure you'll have fun."

He was not quite certain that 'fun' would be the most accurate word to use, but he did not wish to jump to conclusions, either.

He declined the prospect of an afternoon's shooting practice, not wanting to 'step on' Mr Barton's toes, to borrow another figure of speech that he had acquired. To his relief Clint had chuckled at the dismissal, agreeing that it was probably for the best. Instead they located to a lake that was around thirty minutes out from the ranch to spend some time fishing. Vision was keen to point out that he did not wish to retain any fish once they had been caught, but rather admire them for a matter of seconds before putting them back into the lake. Clint had no qualms with this, suggesting that it might be a stretch for him to catch any in the first place.

"I'm not really much of a fishing person," he supplied as they set up their equipment and collapsible stools beside the riverbank, "but it's good to do something different. Besides, it'd make my old man happy to know that I didn't get put off completely."

He went on to explain that his father enjoyed fishing as a pursuit, and would take a young Clint out most weekends on the lake in hope of instilling his passion in his son. Though he wasn't successful in that particular respect, those afternoons did teach a lot about patience and perseverance, skills that had come in very useful on many missions. Vision listened intently to what Clint had to say about Mr Barton Senior, and with particular interest given the recent path of his thoughts.

That was until he perceived a shift in Clint's body language, which then caused him to halt in his flow of conversation.

"Sorry, this must be kinda boring for you."

"I can assure you that it is not. On the contrary, I find talk of childhood and family life incredibly interesting."

Mr Barton made a small huffing sound and then turned his head to the side to smile towards Vision.

"That's good, seeing as I don't have much else to talk about these days."

The conversation contained several fairly lengthy lulls, silence filled by the gentle rushing sound of the water and birdsong upon the air. Vision thought about what Natasha had implied, that Clint wasn't particularly talkative, and so he focused on that fact rather than believing there was anything wrong. He himself was of a contemplative nature and so enjoyed the company, thinking that the afternoon was going well. He hoped that the same could be said for Mr Barton, though he could not read him as well as others he had come to know with increased familiarity.

They had kept an informal tally of how many fish they had caught, with Clint taking photographic evidence on his cell phone to show the family once they returned.

"You're doing well," he said to Vision, who did have the higher 'score' by several. "You might have a talent here."

"I believe there is such a thing as 'beginners' luck', and that I may be experiencing it," Vision returned.

Clint laughed. "Hey, whatever. I'd take it."

After another fifteen minutes had passed and no more fish had come his way, Clint decided to pack his equipment away. Vision followed suit, though Clint insisted he did not have to. There was a small fish attached to the end of his line when he took the rod out of the water and he unhooked it carefully, noticing that it appeared almost iridescent in his hands. He stooped close to the bank, lowering it gently back into the water. It was only sometime afterwards that he realised that they had not taken a photograph. Clint had been busy and it hadn't seemed worth bothering him about it. He knew enough about the fish to describe it, and if the children wanted to know more then they would be able to look it up on the internet afterwards.

"You know, this is the first time we've spent any real time together since you were…is created the right word?"

Vision smiled. "I don't believe that there is a right or wrong word. My means of existence is rather extraordinary. But, yes. We have always been rather separate from one another, though I have been very glad and grateful that you have welcomed me into your household."

"Hey, of course. No need to thank me or anything."

"I understand that you did so because of Wanda, and I'm very thankful for that also. She has nothing but praise for you and Laura and the children. You were there for her in a time of great need, and I cannot demonstrate enough appreciation for the kindness you all have shown to her."

Mr Barton raised an arm to the back of his neck, as though he was rather uncomfortable. "Anyone would have done the same, I'm sure."

"But you have always sought to protect Wanda, from the time when her and her brother were still viewed with suspicion."

"I guess that's what being a dad will do. And I saw something in them that maybe the others didn't at the time, I don't know. I thought about Lila and Cooper, and if they were the ones in that situation. God forbid."

Vision bowed his head. He could understand well the impetus to protect humanity and to raise what was good and innocent above less favourable aspects which had gone beyond any fault of the individuals concerned. However, he was increasingly unsure that he would ever know what it meant to love and care from the perspective of a parent.

"I'm sorry that I didn't extend that understanding towards you," Clint continued, with regret evident in his voice. "I could say that I could only hold so much in my head at one time, but that's a lame excuse."

"I accept your apology, though I believe it is unwarranted. For my own part, I also wish to apologise for being hostile to you when your intentions were the right ones, and my own were horribly misguided, with the benefit of hindsight."

"No worries, I get it. Laura's dad wasn't exactly thrilled about me when we first started dating."

He could feel himself beginning to overheat, despite being in the open air. "At the time, Wanda and myself were not at that stage in our relationship, though I did hold a great affection for her. One which I had not fully comprehended."

"I figured," Clint smiled, "and I'll admit that it took me some time to get it. Wanda's a great kid, and the past year has been tough. I'm not going to say that it's been easy for us, she had times that were really bad. I asked Laura if there wasn't something more we could do for her, like send her somewhere that was better equipped. Looking back, it was stupid of me to even think that. We did what we could, despite being really scared at times. But, and I hope you'll believe me when I say this, I haven't ever seen her as happy as she is now."

He had no reason to disbelieve Mr Barton, especially not after the hours they had spent in one another's company. His words gave Vision a deeply contented feeling, almost tangible in the way it produced reactions in him.

"So I have a lot to thank you for, Vision."

He was a little taken aback to register one of Clint's hands clapping him against the shoulder, although he managed a smile in response.

"Today has been hugely enjoyable. I hope that we can do it again sometime soon, perhaps with Cooper and Nathaniel also."

"Well, I think Nate's maybe a little too young just yet. And I don't know that Lila would take too kindly to being left at home."

"Oh," Vision stumbled, recognising that he had been at fault, "of course – I did not mean – "

"It's okay, bud. I won't tell." Mr Barton winked briefly and smiled. "That'd be great. It's been too long since I got out here, and it's been good to have someone who appreciates it just as much."

They carried the equipment back to the car between them, enjoying the air as it cooled down a little. Vision was most pleased by the way the day had gone, though he found his thoughts becoming occupied with Wanda once more. She would surely be pleased that things had gone so well, as she had already predicted they would.

"Hey, Vision?" Clint's voice sounded clear before they got into the car themselves.

"Yes, Clint?"

"I…well, I don't suppose it matters, but where did you get that shirt from?"

"Ah," he said, looking down involuntarily at the plaid shirt he was wearing, "I believe there might have been a mix-up with the laundry."

He noticed that Clint raised his eyebrows, but did not show any other signs of disapproval. Instead, his mouth quirked upwards.

"You keep it," he said, smile remaining intact, "it looks good on you."


Wanda's birthday fell on a Saturday this year, which was a fortunate occurrence, meaning that the whole Barton family could be there to celebrate with her for the entirety of the day. She was happy with this fact, and indeed appeared relaxed with the mention of the anniversary of her birth. It was a perennial matter of concern, given the absence of Pietro. He had recollections of the two previous birthdays prior to the events that had turned the universe upside down, one of which he had been lucky enough to spend a portion of time with her. There were tears, he recalled that. Yet there was also serenity, a trip to a natural history museum and a slice of cake (for Wanda, though he had been intrigued by the presentation, as well as the colour and texture of the frosting).

A week or so beforehand Laura had made the suggestion of a collective trip somewhere. It doesn't have to be anywhere very far, or anything grand, she was quick to say as an addendum. It would just be nice to do something different. But of course, it's up to you, honey. Her concluding statement was directed at Wanda, who smiled and nodded, and then affirmed that yes, it would be nice.

He had been glad of the advance notice of the plans, as it gave him adequate time to attempt something he had pondered for a little while, since 'dreaming' more vividly.

"Have you given consideration to the fact that my natural appearance would appear rather alarming to those in the outside world?"

She tilted her head to the side by a fraction, a mannerism which she was likely unaware of consciously performing.

"Not especially. Because it's really nobody's business."

"Wanda," he uttered her name quietly, using it to ground his formulating ideas. Her eyes fixed to his, and she wore an expression that appeared to be faintly exasperated. "My primary concern in any situation is that of your safety and wellbeing. I believe that, before we are unveiled once more as Avengers to the world at large, the best thing to do to avoid any furore would be for me to either not accompany you and the Bartons on the day trip…"

"Well, then I don't want to go at all."

"…or, I could employ my previous disguise."

She frowned at this possibility, he assumed because she thought it no longer possible.

"My ability to phase has altered, but I am still able to do what I did before with regards to shifting density. It simply appears illusory to both of us. Assuming another, human-like form would be the next step, but not one which I imagine to be too strenuous."

With his hands steepled in accompaniment of thought, he moved towards where she sat upon the edge of the bed.

"I do not wish to spoil the plans for the day."

She shook her head before reaching a hand to his face. "Vizh, you never would. I don't really care what happens. I don't want you to get hurt or tired."

"That would not be a possibility." He found himself leaning into her palm, issuing a small kiss there. "I have been practicing, and could demonstrate, if it would put your mind at rest."

"I don't think I'm going to be able to stop you," she said, her solemn tone offset with a smile.

He was aware that she would find the results of his experiment surprising, but he was not adequately prepared for the extent of her joyous reaction. He gently dismissed her assertions that her eyes were deceiving her, and that in fact his true form still appeared to her as well as to himself. To demonstrate fully the effects of the matter and reality manipulation that he was able to employ, they went downstairs to greet the family, aside from Nathaniel who was already sleeping. As he expected they were taken aback, only fully reassured when hearing him speak. Both Cooper and Lila proclaimed the transformation to be 'really cool', Laura commented on the aesthetics of his appearance while smiling keenly at Wanda, and Clint simply stated that he had "seen everything".

Nathaniel continued to be a worry until the following morning. Happily, he was the least fazed of the Bartons, reaching his small and inquisitive arms out to prod at the pale skin and pulling with some force upon the fair hair, and finding the situation very amusing indeed.

Thanks to the success of the experiment, he was able to accompany Wanda and the family on the planned day-trip on her birthday. They went to a farmer's market, which also had the fortune to be located nearby a medium-sized travelling fairground. The children took particular enjoyment in visiting the latter, as did Wanda. They rode the ferris wheel and carousel, and both Clint and Vision tried their luck at winning a prize on the many stalls. Vision emerged victorious and gave Wanda the opportunity to select a stuffed animal of her choosing, with Laura jokingly chastising Clint for his failure. His response was that he was allowed a day off every once in a while.

On returning home, Laura presented Wanda with the cake that she had baked the day before, along with assistance from Vision, the presence of which they had both managed to keep a secret from Wanda. Music flowed from the record player and the sun continued to shine in to the house until shortly before the time of its setting.

When the sky turned dark the two of them went outside, Wanda leading the way and sitting herself down in a spot that was sheltered by surrounding long-grass. Vision followed suit, having returned completely to his natural form. He was glad and very happy to feel Wanda leaning her back against him, her head resting upon his chest as she sat and cast her eyes up to the stars above.

No flying amongst them tonight, yet there was something just as beautiful in watching from a distance.

"Happy birthday," he said to her, not for the first time that day.

He felt her smile against his chest. She sought out his hand with hers, linking their fingers together as they both looked upwards.

Several constellations could be observed, he traced the patterns of at least four clearly and knew that Wanda would be doing the same and thinking of Pietro.

After a little while, he heard her say "Z Dnem Narodzhennya, brat. Spodivayusya, vam spodobayetʹsya denʹ."

"I am sure that he is," he said after a few moments had passed, holding her a little tighter at the waist.

She tipped her head back so that she was looking at him upside down, and smiled.

It was a beautiful and calm night, with the stars seeming to shine brighter than they usually would. It would have been tempting to stay for hours, but practicality deemed it necessary to return indoors.

"Thank you," she whispered to him before they entered the house once more, craning on her toes to issue a kiss to his cheek.

"You are welcome," he responded, though he did not deem it necessary. "I am glad that you have had a good day."

Her smile beamed towards him, as though it had been touched by the silver starlight.

"Every day is good with you, kokhanyy."

"As mine are with you."

His palm landed instinctively on the small of her back, his head dipping down to meet with her lips.

The magic that lay there was indefinable, indescribable.

"Here's to many more," she said, smiling all the more.


Natasha's call came twelve days after Wanda's birthday. The new compound was fully operational, Ms Potts had been consulted and a detailed plan laid out; there were no justifiable reasons to delay.

He felt a combination of emotions on being informed. An eagerness to resume the duties that his very being was formulated for. Gratification that they would be reunited with their new teammates and that all would be working towards the same goal. However, the various positives were tempered with feelings of regret and reluctance to leave the deeply contented domestic situation they had settled into, quite effortlessly, within the past months.

They had been given a short amount of time to prepare before leaving, Vision watching intently as Wanda packed away her possessions. She smiled fondly at the oversized plush hippopotamus, the prize that he had won for her at the fairground.

"I don't think that this is going to fit."

"The dimensions make it quite impossible."

Her eyes were soft, demonstrating apology. "Would you mind if I gave it to Nate?"

"I think that is an excellent idea," he smiled in response.

Nathaniel was very pleased with the stuffed animal. He also did not appear to comprehend the impending departure, though Vision made an attempt to explain in simplified terms which a toddler could grasp.

"Honey, I'm not sure he's getting it," Laura interjected, scooping a giggling Nathaniel out of Wanda's arms.

"Perhaps it is for the best," he mused, taking hold of one of Nathaniel's small hands as it waved in the air towards him.

"We'll call every day," Wanda promised, smiling at Lila and Cooper in turn, "whatever time works for you guys. The training schedule does allow for some breaks."

"It better had, else you can tell Romanoff that she has me to answer to."

Clint's stern expression swiftly cracked into a grin. He tapped a hand against Wanda's shoulder, several seconds passing before he pulled her forward into an embrace.

Wanda's voice came out as a near-whisper. "I can't thank you enough for everything you've done. Giving me a place to go, and for letting us stay."

"I also wish to extend my gratitude for your hospitality," Vision added once Wanda had concluded.

Clint shook his head in a manner of modest acceptance as opposed to dismissal. "It's been great having you both as part of the family."

"And you still are," Laura interjected, bouncing Nathaniel in her arms, "don't think you can get away that easily."

"I know that Nat's going to take good care of you both," Clint said, "but know that you'll always have a home here, whenever you need it."

It was a statement that held great sincerity, and one which caused Wanda to begin to cry. Vision immediately put his arm around her and she leant into him while Laura, too, sniffled.

"Hey, come on, this isn't fair," Clint said, his voice wavering slightly, "I have to drive you guys to the station."

"It's fine, I'm fine." Wanda pulled back a short distance, though Vision's hand remained on the small of her back. "I promise." She smiled at the Bartons, then up towards Vision, lingering for a few seconds. "We'd better get going."

Natasha had offered the use of one of the new quinjets to escort them to New York, but they had both expressed a wish to take a more commonplace, if greater time-consuming, method of transport, one of the reasons being that it was likely the last time they would be able to behave as any other couple would before being properly sworn in as Avengers. The coach was due to depart at twenty three minutes past noon and would take several hours to reach the city. Clint saw them safely to the station and onboard, waving them off as the coach set its wheels in motion.

Vision adopted his human form for the journey, visible to all eyes except Wanda's. They occupied themselves by reading, playing appropriate games and watching the landscape shift outside of the window that framed their view, Wanda's head resting against Vision's shoulder. It was lost on neither of them that this was the first time they had taken such a trip together, with Vision always travelling to and from Wanda separately during their two years of secret rendezvous. He was able to recall more and more about those instances, with only the odd occasion blurred or largely absent from his memory.

As such, there was a great deal of joy to be found in the triviality, as well as a sense of fulfillment that they were able to bring their own conclusion to that shared chapter in their lives, albeit significantly belatedly.

They spoke of the new compound and what they imagined it might be like. Natasha had sent an address in code, but aside from the factual, no other details had been forthcoming. It would all come as a pleasant surprise; he could not imagine anything being distasteful, certainly not impractical.

Wanda gazed upwards at him, a strip of late afternoon sun falling upon her face.

"Do you think we'll have a house of our own one day?"

The smile that formed upon his lips was instinctive on hearing her question. The notion was something he had been pondering, to varying degrees of intensity, of late.

"I very much hope we are afforded the opportunity," was his reply, erring on the side of caution but coupled with great optimism, which he believed to be the best outlook in the circumstances.

Wanda's answering smile affirmed that it was so.

"I don't suppose there are any rules against it, though maybe Nat will say different."

He found himself mesmerised by the vivid green of her irises, the sunlight intensifying the shade.

"Before everything, I had –" she uttered a short laugh at what she was about to say " – visions of what it might be like. I could picture the house really clearly. Our house. It was like something out of an old film or TV show, I'm not really sure why. But it was pretty. And it felt like home."

Simply hearing her recount her own daydreams made him happy and peaceful. He raked his fingers slowly through her hair, feeling a strong sense of familiarity at the action. Serenity.

"I suspect this will sound corny," he began, watching her face keenly, "but I can only think that home to me is wherever you are."

Another soft laugh left her lips, the palm of her hand reaching to skim his cheek.

"That's the sweetest thing I've ever heard, Vizh. And I feel the same way."

As she scrabbled up to right herself upon her seat he also dipped his head down to place a kiss upon her forehead.

Travelling not too further on the sun took a lower position in the sky, burnishing an amber glow.

One day.

It did not seem to be too far a stretch of the imagination, or otherwise an unattainable twist in reality.


He had arrived in Edinburgh ahead of schedule by several hours. Refraining from informing Wanda so as not to compromise her position, he decided first to check into the hotel which he had made a pre-planned reservation for on behalf of them both.

He wasn't yet used to being called by the name that was written on the various documents that were in his possession, which he could take out of the bag that he carried with him – predominately to keep up appearances – and hold in his hands to affirm that this identity was one which was recognised by the world at large. He smiled at the receptionist a fraction too late, though she did not appear to notice, handing over the key cards to the room with further pleasantries.

"I hope you enjoy your stay, Mr Shade. Reception is open twenty four hours of the day, so if there's anything you need please don't hesitate to give us a call."

"Thank you," he returned, the smile now more settled upon his face.

"Is it your first time in Edinburgh?"

"Yes. We're looking forward to seeing the city…that is, my girlfriend and I. She's been held up at a conference, but is due to arrive soon."

The receptionist was young – early to mid-twenties, around Wanda's age if he were to attempt to accurately predict – with an open, friendly demeanour.

"I'm sure you'll have a lovely time. You have to go to the castle, obviously, but I'd recommend Dr Neil's Garden for somewhere a bit more undiscovered. It's especially lovely this time of year."

"I'll certainly make a note of that. Thank you."

Rather than going up to the room, he decided to take a walk and get his bearings. He would rather the suite remain a surprise which he and Wanda could discover together, and he was travelling light so he would not find exploring cumbersome. The city was beautiful – quite steep in many places but very picturesque, with cobbled streets and buildings that stretched to the sky but not in the characterless manner that was often to be found in New York. Streets wound their ways into open spaces and they were busy with tourists and locals alike, but also relatively clear. The air felt truly fresh as he breathed it in, pausing to fully appreciate the landscape around him, being fairly certain that Wanda would find it just as charming.

He ended up in Victoria Street, the bright colours of the various shops and businesses beacons against the overcast afternoon. He perused the windows briefly, giving each a considered glance as was only polite to do so. One window arrested his attention for longer than a minute; indeed, he found himself peering in at the shining display for some time. Once again, as had become customary, his gathering thoughts centered on a focal point, growing ever larger in his mind as the days passed.

Consuming him.

What once seemed highly implausible – impossible even, given the complexities of his existence – was becoming sufficiently more attainable. His natural tendency towards logic remained undiminished, but he had long known that order and chaos were not opposites, and the longer that this way of life continued he found himself veering closer to the edges, testing the possibilities. Mentally, in thorough detail. Road signs were beginning to present themselves with increased frequency, warning that there was not much further to be traversed, that a way must be chosen.

The opposing direction was unthinkable. The more he considered it, the more he knew it would cause considerable sorrow and unbearable pain for them both. It may have appeared to be the way to safety on outward appearances, compatible with all of his principles and natural desires.

He had also come to understand, better than most, how deceptive appearances could be.

Wanda had spoken about it too. Early in the morning, half-asleep, arms braced around him. In the full force of daylight, stopping to watch the movement of the sky above as they held hands. Wanting. Wishing. Dreaming.

"I want to stay."

In one place.

With you.

Her face, lit with a smile, which was covered by shadow in the next moment, when she landed back in reality. Letting out a sigh and a swish of her hair, looking back at him with a resigned gaze and a heavier heart.

They could stay. Here, in Edinburgh, or the other side of the world. A minimal ceremony would be enough to make it so. Nobody could say otherwise or tear apart bonds once they had been put in place. He could not restrain a smile at the thought of it, the dream becoming a reality. He would stay in his disguise and ensure that Wanda, even if to the world she would be known by another name, remained safe, forever.

He sensed that he had time before he needed to be at the train station, and the euphoric thoughts resident in his head – namely of Wanda's astonishment and joy in the following moments once he had made his intentions clear – ensured that the decision was made for him.

The sound of a bell rang out above him when he entered the door of the jewellers.


A/N: Ukrainian (Sokovian) to English translation:

Z Dnem Narodzhennya, brat = Happy birthday, brother

Spodivayusya, vam spodobayetʹsya denʹ = hope you enjoy the day

kokhanyy = beloved