Chapter 5: Where There's Smoke
"Let's hear it for the Vision!" Rhodes cried.
The others in the room cheered.
This was not what Vision had expected or wanted this debriefing with the UN Avengers Oversight Committee to turn into. He wasn't accustomed to being the center of attention, the hero of the day. All he wanted was a good excuse to exit the room immediately.
"Do you have any more questions?" Vision asked the panel.
They looked at each other. "It doesn't look like it. You handled the crisis exceptionally well. You have the world's thanks."
"If it's all the same, I would like to get some rest," Vision said.
Some members of the committee looked surprised. Rhodes looked shocked. Tony didn't.
"Of course. Once again, you have our gratitude."
Vision left the conference room, contemplating the best route through the Avengers compound to avoid reporters.
Tony caught up with him in the hall. "You're tired? That's the best out you could come up with?"
"That was...very awkward for me. Usually it is you or Colonel Rhodes who handles the questions."
"It's about time that changed. None of us could have done what you did," Tony said.
"Literally true. I don't believe I deserve accolades for it."
"But you do. And I don't mean just phasing into a passenger jet at cruising speed; you talked two Ten Ring terrorists armed with vest bombs into surrendering. None of us could have done that. I don't think anyone but you would have even tried."
"If you were paying attention during that debriefing, you'd know that's not a completely accurate portrayal of how it happened."
"It's close enough. The fact is, the two hijackers are alive, and more importantly so are all the passengers. This is a good thing. It's good to have the world see you saving the day. You're the most valuable member of this team, and it's about time people realize that."
"You told the world that you were Iron Man. It was in your nature to desire that recognition. What I desire is the opposite. To walk down a street without being recognized, without anyone looking twice...I can't even imagine what that would be like."
"People just need to get used to you. You should get out more. There's this nice club I know of where the staff is so used to celebrities they don't even blink. We should go there sometime, maybe a double date."
"A double date?"
"Yeah. Me and Pepper, and you and...whoever it is you sneak off to visit every Friday."
He knew.
Tony smiled at his stunned expression. "I can do the math. I know about when it started."
Vision spoke in a low voice, meant for Tony alone. "Mr. Stark, I hope you know I would never wish to lie to you, or conceal anything from you, and if I did it was not from distrust of you, but a desire to protect you from possible repurcussions."
"Don't worry about it. I'm happy for you. For both of you. Speaking of which, you should get going."
Vision was later than usual to get to Wanda's apartment. She was sitting at her coffee table, wearing the red dress he loved, holding a mug of tea. Her face lit up when she saw him.
"Vision!" She rose and kissed him. "I wasn't sure you'd be coming tonight. I heard about Flight 422 on the news."
"That is why I'm late. I'm sorry to keep you waiting."
"I can't blame you. You talked two armed hijackers into surrendering peacefully."
"No," he corrected her. "I physically restrained one, and convinced the other that if he reached for the detonator of his explosive device I would kill him before he could touch it, he would be remembered as a failed terrorist rather than a martyr, and his cause would be better served by spreading his message from a prison cell. Fortunately, it worked."
Her eyes wandered over his face for a moment. "I'm sorry. That must have been terrifying for you."
The word struck him like a revelation. "Yes. I was terrified. I feel that...no one else understands that."
"Because you weren't in physical danger. Even if the bombs had blown up the plane, you would have survived. But others wouldn't have."
"Yes." He blinked, haunted by the memory of his fear on that plane. "If I had made a single miscalculation, people would have died. And I had to do it alone."
She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him to sit next to her on the coffee table as she cradled his head in the crook of her neck. "But you did it. Everyone's safe now. It's okay."
He closed his eyes. He felt a warmth spread from her through his body, easing away the lingering trauma of that rescue mission. No one understood him like she did. Had she looked into his mind to know how that mission had affected him, or had she figured it out from what she knew of him? He hadn't felt her reading him.
She pressed her lips to the top of his head.
Perhaps that gesture was merely meant to comfort him, but it conveyed far more. She didn't see him as a robot; she saw him as human: fallible, vulnerable, someone who could be terrified, someone who occasionally needed comfort.
Suddenly it wasn't just the warmth of her arms he wanted, but the fire of her lips. He shifted to look into her eyes.
"Thank you," he whispered.
"You're welcome," she replied, sounding like she wasn't sure what he was thanking her for.
He kissed her passionately, hungrily. She responded in kind. After a few minutes, she kissed her way along his cheek to his neck, then paused to ask, "Would you like to come to bed?"
He breathed the only word he could think at the moment. "Yes."