Thank you all for your kind words - they are much appreciated. I'm glad you enjoying these little themed glimpses. 😊
A slightly less angsty one this time! (she says hopefully...)
Enjoy!
Wanda inhales deeply as she mixes in some jam into her tea. After weeks on the Raft with no such comforts, the feeling of the warm mug in her hands and the aroma of freshly brewed tea is a balm to her weary soul, and not one she had expected being able to enjoy in a safehouse. She had been pleasantly surprised when they arrived by just how homey the safehouse was that Natasha had brought them to. She'd been expecting bare bones and not much in the way of comforts, but the cupboards had been mostly stocked, there were closets filled with spare clothes for all of them, and of course an impressive (albeit quite terrifying) hidden armory. She wonders if Nat had stocked everything herself before going to break them out of the Raft or if she has contacts that would do it for her.
Wanda decides to head outside to enjoy her tea while watching the last moments of the day before the sun sets, a ritual she had come to enjoy at the Avengers Compound before the Accords ripped everything apart. Ripped the team apart.
She smiles when she spots the not yet familiar blonde hair of Natasha out on the porch of the safehouse already. Apparently her mentor had the same idea she did to enjoy the sunset. Wanda isn't surprised to find her there - watching the sun set and rise were activities Natasha did often. They'd even shared tea (or sometimes vodka) on occasion from the dock at the Compound while taking in the red, orange, and golden hues of the setting sun.
But as Wanda opens the door to join her, she sees colourful bruising peeking out from the edges of the tank top Nat is wearing and she frowns deeply. "Hey," she says in greeting, still a touch distracted by the apparent injuries she'd not noticed before. Exactly how much resistance did she run into on the Raft?
"Hey," Nat says, though she doesn't turn around.
"Are you okay?" Wanda asks. Now Natasha does look up and Wanda sees the tiniest of furrowing in her brow - a silent request for her to elaborate. "Your back-"
"Oh, it's nothing," she dismisses easily. "Just some bruising."
"That's not nothing," Wanda protests as she leans over slightly to look more closely. They are mostly dark yellow bruises, though there are splotches of fading purple too. Not merely superficial, she knows. They look incredibly painful, and she can tell from Natasha's posture they are bothering her.
"No, I guess not," she admits with a smile. "But I'm fine, Washenka," she soothes, patting the seat next to her. "Come sit and enjoy your tea," she adds knowingly.
Wanda holds her gaze for a moment before relenting. "Cap is going to flip if he sees those," she says as she sits down beside her mentor on the stairs of the porch.
Natasha shrugs. "He's had worse."
"That's not going to matter to him."
"They'll heal soon enough."
"How'd you get them? I doubt guards at the Raft did that to you."
"No, they were embarrassingly easy to subdue," Nat says with a laugh. "These are...more complicated."
Wanda hears the unspoken "leave it alone" between the words and opts to let it go. It was Natasha's story to tell. She wouldn't force it. "You're different," she says instead, taking a different tactic.
Natasha tilts her head. "Well, duh," she jokes, trailing her fingers through her short, blonde hair.
Wanda rolls her eyes. "I meant more than the hair."
"Eyebrows too," Natasha points out.
"Nat," she admonishes with a groan, but Natasha just grins. "There's something about you," Wanda tries again. "Something's changed."
"Oh yeah?"
"Your...aura."
"Oh boy. Here we go."
"Not like that," Wanda rolls her eyes. "The energy you give off…it's different than before."
Nat shrugs. "Still me. Just less Avenger, more fugitive. Again."
"Where did you go? After Germany, I mean."
Nat shifts in her seat gingerly, probably trying to lessen some of the stiffness. Wanda doesn't doubt there are bruises in other places she can't see. "Had some unfinished business to attend to before I met up with Cap to break you guys out," she offers in explanation.
Ah, Wanda thinks, so the unfinished business is the source of the bruises. "With who?"
Nat smiles. "You ask a lot of questions."
"And you don't answer them," Wanda replies, a bit boldly.
Nat seems amused by her boldness. "That's true," she says with a nod.
Wanda is quiet for a beat, faintly hopeful for Nat to elaborate, but when the information doesn't come, she groans in frustration. "Ugh!"
Natasha holds her gaze meaningfully. "You tell me yours; I'll tell you mine," she offers before flicking her gaze to the light bruising on Wanda's neck from the collar the guards had put on her at the Raft. Wanda can't help but lift a hand to rub at her neck gently. She knows Nat only offered it because she knows Wanda doesn't want to talk about it.
They lapse into silence as Wanda pouts just a little at not getting the story she wanted.
"You have them in Sokovia?" Nat asks a few moments later, gesturing to the treeline where there are a few dozen lights pulsing. It takes Wanda a moment to realize they're insects of some kind.
"No, nothing like that. Not much in the city, especially when the fire and bombs started." Natasha nods in understanding. "What are they?"
"Fireflies."
"And they light up like that?"
She hums affirmatively in reply. "I've seen them all over the world. I'm guessing they're all different kinds, but they still light up like that." She pauses for a beat. "Barton's kids like to catch them in jars and use them to light their treehouse at night."
Wanda smiles at the vision of kids chasing the pulsing lights with empty jars in a field. "Sounds beautiful."
"It is," Natasha answers with a nod.
Her expression is a touch sad, Wanda thinks, and she wonders if the separation from Clint is painful for her. Just as she goes to broach the subject though, Sam interrupts them.
"Holy shit, Nat. What the hell happened to your back?"
"What, you thought breaking you out of prison was a piece of cake?" Nat volleys back immediately.
"For you? Kinda, yeah," he admits, gaze flicking from the bruising to Wanda and then up to Nat's face.
"Well, that's 'cause it was," she replies with a smirk. "Even you could have taken on that goon squad by yourself. No wings necessary."
Wanda recognizes the deflection easily, but Sam either doesn't acknowledge it or elects to drop it. Still, he frowns gently as he speaks, "Not like you to stroke a man's ego, without crushing it right af-"
"They were that incompetent."
"Aaand there it is," he grumbles with a scoff. "That's just cold, Romanoff," he jokes but then his expression sobers. "You need anything for that? Ice? Some sort of cream? I don't know what you have in this safehouse but I can go get something if-"
"Wouldn't say no to some alcohol," she says with an arched eyebrow in amusement, dangling the request Wanda knows is going to be shot down by Sam immediately. Wanda can't help but smile at the cheekiness - their banter and Natasha's humour were balms to her soul after weeks of uncertainty.
Sam frowns deeply. "Yeah, no, that's not happening."
Natasha shrugs. "Worth a shot." They're quiet for a moment until Nat turns to look up at Sam and shoot him a glare for his continued scrutiny. "I'm fine, Sam. It's just bruising. Be gone in a few days."
Sam huffs out an exhale but then takes a seat on the other side of Natasha. "Guess this is the part of Avenging they don't mention in the recruitment spiel, huh?"
"The bruising? Or being labelled a fugitive?" Natasha replies dryly.
"Either," he answers with a shrug. "Both, I guess," he finishes, giving a more honest answer than Wanda thinks Nat was expecting.
"Do you think they'll ever stop looking for us?" Wanda asks. She's been wondering it since Natasha had shown up at the Raft and broken her out while telling her Cap was busting out the others.
"Depends," Nat answers.
"On what?" Sam asks.
"On if they need us again."
"You think they will?" Wanda asks.
Nat sighs heavily. "I sort of wish I could say no, but yeah. The way the world is these days… Definitely."
Wanda feels herself somewhat hopeful that she's right, while trying hard not to think of the human consequences of a situation arising that needed them.
"You come here often?" Sam asks.
To Wanda's surprise, Natasha laughs deeply. "Really, Sam? You're giving me cheesy lines now?"
He blinks for a moment as he realizes what he said and then groans when it clicks. "You're the worst, you know that?"
"So Clint keeps on telling me."
"I meant to this safehouse, smart ass."
Natasha shakes her head. "No, this one's a relatively new safehouse. I've only been here once or twice. Not nearly as often as some of my old ones. Most of those got burned after the whole SHIELD/Hydra thing though, so had to get creative."
Sam nods in understanding. "Was just wondering if the lightning bugs are always that active here."
"I thought they were fireflies…" she says in confusion, shifting her gaze to Natasha who chuckles.
"Americans can't make up their minds what to call them. I know them as fireflies, but it seems like it's pretty split in the U.S. between that and lightning bugs."
"We always called 'em lightning bugs growing up," Sam offers. "Either way, they're pretty cool."
"They are," Wanda agrees. "We didn't have them in Sokovia. At least, not that I ever saw."
"Hey, we got any empty jars in there, Nat?" Sam asks suddenly with a wide smile.
"Yeah, should be. Check under the sink maybe?"
Sam disappears and comes back a moment later with two empty jars, one of which he hands to Wanda. "I'm not a child," Wanda protests, even though she's sorely tempted by the opportunity to catch some of the fireflies.
"You're the baby of this group," he points out. "Now, c'mon. It's a right of passage. I bet even Nat's caught some in her day."
Nat slides her gaze over to Sam. "What'd'ya mean "in my day," Sam?"
"Uh- You know I didn't mean it like that. Don't twist my words, Nat."
Nat lets him off the hook with a smirk before she slides her gaze over to Wanda. "You should do it, Wanda," she suggests. "We're good here for a couple days, but we'll have to move on soon. May as well enjoy it now. Besides, they don't always stick around long."
"Aw, c'mon, Nat. You know you wanna catch a few too," he says, offering her a jar.
She smiles but shakes her head and gestures with her hand to her back. "I'll pass. This bruising is gonna clear up soon, but it still hurts like a bitch."
Wanda and Sam both frown. It was unlike Natasha to readily admit things like that.
"Oh, don't look at me like that," she chastises them both. "I'm fine, just not up for sudden twisting and movements."
"You sure you're okay?" Sam asks. "Honestly," he adds after a beat while shooting her a concerned look that Wanda supposes is an effort to get her to answer honestly.
"I'm alright, Sam," she soothes. "It's just sore. Nothing I haven't dealt with before."
"That's not as comforting as you think it is, Nat."
She chuckles. "Go catch your lightning bugs. I'll hold your tea, Wanda."
Wanda eyes her for another moment before relenting and handing over her tea and following Sam out into the field. They spend a few moments scooping the air with the jars before they're able to catch a bunch of them. They return to the porch and Wanda trades her jar for her mug of tea. She watches as Nat holds up the jar and examines the fireflies. Her expression is softer than Wanda remembers ever seeing, and she wonders what other memories Natasha has of fireflies during her time with the Bartons. She imagines the kids clamouring to catch the bugs with their Aunt Nat, and she can't help but smile at the prospect of the famed Black Widow running around a field with a jar, chasing the pulsing lights.
But she knows in her bones that Natasha is so much more than the Black Widow. She'd seen glimpses of it during the handful of times she had visited Clint at the farm with Nat, and of course she'd experienced it first-hand with everything Nat had done to help her acclimate to a new life as an Avenger and to life in America. She really was far more than a talented spy and fighter. Wanda knows there's so much she doesn't know about Natasha, and she wonders if she'll ever get to learn some of those things. She hopes so, because her mentor had certainly become someone very important to her, and someone she counted among her closest friends.
So...less angsty? Maybe? Hopefully? Let me know!
Always cool to see what you think. Feedback/comments welcome.
More to come! 😊