Author's note: Am I posting this soon? Who am I? But seriously, 600 views! What?! But no reviews... please, please, please leave a review! I want to hear from you guys what you think, what you love/hate, and any other plot ideas! I'm basically just torturing Wanda here, making her freak out every chapter - it's probably getting a BIT repetitive,
Also, still I don't own anything... unfortunately. That would be fun. And any descriptions of anxiety/panic attacks are based purely on my own experiences and research. I'm not a doctor or anything, so medically it might not be very accurate - sorry :)
Also, I made up Procedure 792, but some Agent Carter fans might recall Procedure 791...
Still on the quinjet, half an hour from the drop-off point.
The quinjet shook with a turbulence as they started to descend rapidly. Wanda caught a last glimpse of the sun as Clint manoeuvred the plane into the dense cloud layer, and then everything was bathed in an ashy glow. Another violent shudder rolled through the plane.
"Clint! Woah, my breakfast just resurfaced."
"Shouldn't have eaten that doughnut then, eh Stark?"
"Romanoff..."
"Nervous flyer are you Stark?" interrupted the archer from the cockpit, his eyes were furrowed with concentration. Tony stood up shakily and wandered over to him, muttering a stream of sarcastic scientific jargon on how to fly 'this very expensive plane properly for God's sake Birdbrain'.
Wanda's stomach jolted, and she doubted it was due to the bad flying conditions. Her nerves where finally catching up with her. And here I was feeling so good. Thanks anxiety. She mentally scolded herself for relaxing earlier. When you relax it makes the stress so much worse in comparison. What if this messes with the mission. No, no, no, don't think that. Think about something else. Umm, puppies. Ice cream. Pietro. Okay, NOT that, ummm.
"Okay, so you know the plan." Natasha's signature raspy drawl dragged Wanda out of her reverie.
"Yes." Wanda tried to focus on what Natasha was saying, but it was so hard. Her thoughts were so LOUD.
"It's simple; in, out and we're done."
"Yes."
"Okay, got your comm?"
"Yes."
"Just follow my lead."
"Yes."
"And remember, minimal-"
"Yes, minimal powers."
"Very chatty, aren't you?"
"Yes. I mean no. I mean-"
"Relax. It'll be okay. Take a deep breath." Wanda finally wrenched her gaze from the floor to meet Natasha's wide, concerned eyes. Those emerald jewels, the greenest eyes Wanda had ever seen. They were pools of jade and she was drowning in them. She took a deep, juddering breath, and tried to smile, her own hazel eyes meeting Natasha's.
"I'm so sick of you always catching me when I freak out Natasha!" she half-joked. Natasha was always the epitome of coolness, and Wanda had spent the last three months a spaghetti bowl of nerves.
"Everybody gets nervous, don't worry about it." smirked the spy, playfully elbowing Steve in the ribs, who jerked awake. "Even Captain America does."
"You don't," stated Wanda simply, but her only answer was a raised eyebrow and a ghost of a smirk.
Next to Natasha, Steve stretched and yawned.
"Hypocrite, Rogers," said Tony "But I guess it should be expected from an old man like you."
Steve just shook his head, smiling in defeat. "Nat, I'm just going to go through the plan once more."
"Yes, boss."
"Not talking to you Tony. It's for educational purposes," he said, shooting Wanda a quick look, and she briefly wondered whether she ought to be taking notes.
"The aim of the mission is to recover some Hydra weapons that are about to be sold on the black market from the warehouse where they're being stored.
It's a classic Procedure 792: 1. remove civilians from harm 2. enter the building 3. eliminate any opposition 4. secure the goods 5. remove the goods
Since this is warehouse is long abandoned there should be no civilians, so anyone we meet should be considered opposition.
Hawkeye is on lookout duty from a neighbouring water-tower. Using Stark's latest heat-sensing tech he will inform me, Nat and Wanda through the comms if he sees any incoming, and deal with them accordingly.
Natasha and Wanda are entering through the back door and I'm coming in from the roof. We're going to deal with the guards and secure the goods.
Stark is staying on the quinjet until we give the signal, which is when he'll fly with his suit and help us remove the goods, most likely in crates. At this point we can expect perhaps some more guards, but remember, these will be badly trained men. This isn't Hydra here, it's a secondhand weapon dealer. We will bring the weapons onto the quinjet and fly back to base. If anything goes wrong we'll meet back at the quinjet.
Stark has already scanned the warehouse with a drone and found the best entry points for us, and we've been monitoring the activity there for the bast two weeks. The guards rotate on eight hour shifts, and we're arriving in the middle of the third rotation.
The warehouse is situated on the edge of a remote village next to a large forest, and the nearest structure is before mentioned water tower. Good place for smuggling illegal weapons, but hopefully we'll avoid any casualties that could be caused by them falling into the wrong hands by seizing them now.
Any questions?"
Tony shook his head, only half listening; Wanda shrugged and Natasha just got to her feet and fiercely whipped out her electrically charged batons. Steve took that as no.
"Uh Cap?" came the voice from the cockpit.
"Barton?"
"We're arriving."
It was raining. That was actually an understatement. It was lashing down, huge droplets splattering on the rust coloured soil, creating from it mud. The sky was the colour tarmac, and the Avengers were soaked to the bone the moment they stepped out of the quinjet. Wanda hugged her red jacket closer, glad that it was summer and therefore a tepid rain. Her black boot left indents into the wet ground, and she walked cautiously, not wanting to slip and dirty her black skirt. She watched Clint run out of the corner of her eye towards the water tower, and soon she lost sight of him, as he merged with the towering trees of the menacing forest. Steve had parachuted out of the jet straight onto the roof, well 'parachuted' - more like jumped. Stark was still in the dry, warm quinjet and Natasha walked in front of her. Wanda watched as her red hair swayed, heavy with rain, just below her shoulders; the way she nearly glided, so noiselessly in her black catsuit, with multiple guns on her belt, and who knows how many other weapons stored elsewhere. The only noise was the pitter patter of the relentless rain and Wanda's thoughts. She could feel Natasha's too, but batted them away. Not here, not now, not ever.
"Wanda?" Natasha said her name like a question, turning around to face the witch.
"Seriously, relax. I wouldn't have told Steve you were ready if you weren't."
"I guess I don't want to, I dunno, hold you back or something. I know you like working alone."
"Hah. After years as Clint's partner you don't need to fret. It's a nice change to be working with another female for a change! Last time was with Hill, maybe three years ago? Nice to not have to deal with so much testosterone," she seemed amused. "You will be fine."
And in the way she said it, that sincere, no nonsense way of hers, how she sounded like she truly believed Wanda was good enough to be on this team, Wanda found that she believed her too. And trusted her. It was hard with Natasha. She kept everyone at an arms length, except maybe Clint. But around Wanda, she was almost someone else entirely. And Wanda didn't know what it was. She had gotten really good at reading the spy's face, since she couldn't read her emotions instead. Wanda had Natasha's facial tics memorised, and even then they were so slight, sometimes she missed them. The slight widening of her eyes that signalled any strong emotion, the pursing of her lips when she was trying not to smile, the way she fluttered her eyelashes when she was angry. These seemed even more muted around Wanda for some reason, but she tended to smile more too. It was all so confusing. Sometimes the urge to just quickly swoop into her head was so strong; it would make it so much easier to figure out what Natasha thought of Wanda. But the one thing she knew for sure, was that Natasha did not trust her. Not like she trusted Clint, or even Steve. Maybe slightly more than she did Tony though. Wanda hoped that this mission could change that, and that she'd prove not only that she was a capable Avenger, but also a trustworthy teammate, and that Natasha hadn't made a mistake deciding to train her.
"Okay. Thanks Natasha. I'm ready."
"Let's go get some space guns!"
They reached the back door without any trouble, Natasha easily disarmed and floored the two guards that were standing watch with her Widow's bites.
"Okay Wanda, your turn." she murmured, pulling her soaked hair back from her face and stepping back.
Wanda took a deep breath. Step one of her part of this mission. She focused on the enormous metal doors that barred their entrance into the warehouse. It really was a massive building, with thick brick walls and a steel roof. Suddenly she felt that rush of warmth, and her clothes dried instantly as her hands gleamed crimson in the dim light. She pictured pushing the doors open, and then she did, with a grunt. They creaked open with a grating noise, and Wanda was aware that Natasha just stood and stared.
"Good job." Was all she said, and Wanda wished for the millionth time that she wouldn't be so weirded out by her powers.
"Rogers, we're in. I repeat, we're in," continued Natasha, speaking to the super soldier through the comms. All Wanda heard was static.
"Steve, are you okay? Clint? Stark?"
Static. Wanda felt her nerves creeping back. This was a little too spooky for her.
"Argh, curse this rain! It must be messing with the comms!" said Natasha, but she didn't sound too bothered. She shot Wanda a glance, "Guess we're doing this the analogue way - also known as the fun way."
"Romanoff...the...is...clear...in this...I...roof go." Wanda heard Steve's disembodied voice in her ear. Weird.
"Did you hear Steve?" she asked.
"Hear, yes. Understand, no. Let's go."
Wanda tried to shake the uneasiness off and followed the redhead into the dark.