The two girls were sat on the shingle of Brighton beach, collars turned up against the sharp sea breeze and sunglasses dampening the glare of the sun on the steely gray water. The empty paper wrappings of their halloumi and chips (which were nothing like American fries; they were fat and greasy and soft, yet somehow much nicer) was fluttering in rhythm with Wanda's now-gingery hair.
"It took so much bleach," she complained to Eva.
"Right? Mine was so dead I had to dye it black just so you didn't notice the split ends. How did you get the color, though? It's really nice."
"Henna. I used to do it a lot back home in Sokovia," Wanda replied. "When I was being a rebel teenager."
"I thought you still were a rebel teenager," Eva said.
Wanda chuckled. "I suppose I am." Her accent was almost indistinguishable from any other Americans, now. It was still a little clipped in places, lacking the trademark drawl of the States, but here in England they probably didn't even notice it. "It feels less fun now, though."
"At least you're not locked away in Stark's compound like they wanted you to be," Eva said.
"Sometimes I think that maybe that was a better idea than the one I chose." She picked up a shell and, glancing around to make sure nobody was watching, made it levitate two inches above her palm. Red swirls turned it over and over as her fingertips twitched. "If I had not ran, I don't think Viz would have fought the others like he did. And if he hadn't, then Rhodes…"
"Don't blame yourself," said Eva.
"Why not?"
"Because I'm no good at pity."
Wanda smiled and dropped the shell, closing her fist around it. "You're really not, are you?"
"Nope. Can we go to a gay bar tonight?"
"Sure."
"Cool," said Eva, slightly more comfortable now that the conversation had been steered away from deeper waters. "Because I've been single for a while now, and –"
"If you had to kill someone you love to save the world, do you think you could do it?"
Never mind. "I've never given it much thought," Eva said. "Big moral questions like that don't occur in gardening as much as they do superhero-ing. What's happened?"
"Nothing. It's just… it's Vision. There's something he's not telling me."
"He does that a lot," Eva nodded.
"He's scared, I think. I can feel it. We've always been connected… not like that," Wanda added, as Eva's face screwed up at the thought of her best friend's romantic life. "Literally connected. The M ind Stone and my powers are one and the same, he says. So I can tell a little of what he's thinking – no, not thinking. Feeling."
"He told me he's been getting headaches," Eva said. "I think he's had nightmares, too, when he does that weird robot meditation thing he does instead of sleeping. He won't admit it but he has, I can tell."
"He knows the Stone is a threat," Wanda said. "Not just to us, but to everyone." Although the sun was still high and hot in the sky, Eva shivered. "And you know him. He wouldn't bat an eyelid about sacrificing himself."
"You can't let him," Eva said fiercely, glaring out at the horizon. "You can't. You – you just can't."
"I know. I won't."
"Promise," she said. "Swear." Because I don't know what I'd do without him.
"I swear," said Wanda. "I know I'd have you as an enemy if anything happened to him on my watch. And that's worse than Ultron."
"It damn well is." Eva twisted around and wrapped her arms around Wanda, who returned the hug without hesitating. "And you're not allowed to die, either. You're a superhero without an ego – if you bite it, then they'll go extinct."
Wanda laughed. "Duly noted," she said, in her soft Sokovian style.
"Awesome." They released each other. "Now let's go find a gay bar."
"There are four in eyeshot," Wanda pointed out.
"Then we'd best get started, hadn't we?"
A/N so Ant-Man and the Wasp is set before Infinity War, which is totally the reason why the Coffee Run timeline hasn't caught up to that film yet. Absolutely not because I don't want to deal with all those [SPOILERS]. Oh, no. I'm not in denial at all. Everything's FINE. Also, I have a tiny inconsequential headcanon that Wanda is vegan (she was only eating the chips). It just makes sense to me, y'know? And that Tony is lactose intolerant, but that never stopped him from eating loads of chocolate as a kid and throwing it all up afterwards.