Wanda relaxed in the car with Sam as they drove up to the facility after the meeting. It would difficult to start speaking around people who had not shared her experience, or so she had thought. They were not so different from her, these warriors who were still haunted by the battlefield. She remembered one woman's story in particular. She and her team had been heading toward a secret enemy base when they were ambushed. Her team was pinned down, four of the ten members killed on sight. They judged there were about four shooters total. In the time that it took to take out the ambushers, there were four of the team still alive. Among the dead was the woman's husband. She refused to leave him and carried him back to camp, since they could no longer complete the mission. As it turned out, there had been no secret base. They had been fed false information, and her husband died for nothing. She delivered the story with stony eyes and a straight face. Her story was what gave Wanda the strength to tell hers.

She told them of the attack in Sokovia, though she did not mention any names or the fact she was an avenger. As Sam reminded her, it was for the best. She told them that, while they won the fight, her brother died. She told them how she could feel it, how she felt him torn from her, leaving her alone. She had to be taken out of the battlefield by a teammate. After speaking, she felt like a sort of pressure had been lifted off her shoulders, She wasn't alone in the pain. These people had known it too.

The car halted in the driveway, and Wanda was shaken from her thoughts. She pulled herself out of the car and headed up toward the facility, only to stop when Vision alighted on the ground in front of her. He smiled and she returned it.

"I was thinking, if you did not have any plans, I would like to take you out to the city. For a date,"

Wanda's smile grew. "Well sir. I would love to join you. I will need to get ready. Come for me in an hour."

She headed up to her room and opened her closet, picking through the number of dresses she owned. She finally chose a slim black one. It was simple black, going down to her knees, with a zipper going down the back. She slipped it on and admired herself in the floor-length mirror by the closet. She liked the way it looked on her, fitted where it was supposed to be, not too showy but not entirely modest either. She smiled and chose a simple red sweater to wear over it.

She turned toward the table where the flower still sat in it's vase. She wished she could put it in a pot so that it would live longer, but no such luck. She chose a silver necklace with a red pendant.

She glanced in the mirror to see the full effect, and was pleased with what she saw. The necklace looked good with the sweater, and the dress was lovely. A brisk knocking startled her, and she opened the door, to be met by Natasha.

"Not much gets by you, does it?" Wanda said with a smile.

"No. It doesn't. I wanted to give you this as something nice. You haven't had as much experience with the whole dating thing. I would like to say though, that a little of that goes a long way." She handed Wanda a box of perfume labeled Amber Amor.

"Thank you," Wanda said, uncapping it and smelling. It smelled sweet but with a faint hint of spice. "I love it."

Natasha nodded and left with a hint of a smile and Wanda lightly sprayed herself with the perfume.

She stood by the mirror and put on some light makeup. She had just finished when there was a knock on the door.

She walked over and opened it, smiling as she saw Vision in a tuxedo.

He smiled as he saw her. "You look… amazing. I thought you might like a walk in the park and a nice meal," he said.

She took his arm, and together, they headed for the city.


The walk had been beautiful. They walked through gardens, smelled flowers, held hands. When they finally settled down to eat, Wanda was famished.

She smiled as she saw the blanket laid out over the grass, the wicker basket holding bread, salami, ham, blueberries, hamburgers, watermelon, popcorn, chocolate-covered strawberries, and that was just what she could see on the top. She smiled, sitting down with Vision and they began to eat.

She loved to try new things, and she hadn't tried many of the things on in the basket. Vision, although he didn't need to eat, was snacking on the popcorn. With a smile, Wanda remembered the time he told her that he liked it. She ate until she was full, then rested her head on his shoulder.

He played with her hair for a while. She touched his mind and felt his lovely, pure glow. She closed her eyes and let herself be with him, in peace, for the moment.

She opened her eyes once again and met his. He smiled and kissed her gently, and she kissed him back. It was a kiss to show the gentle affection, one of love and protection. She basked in it for a moment, before pulling away and resting her head on his chest.

"Thank you," she said quietly, still touching his mind, though the kiss had ended. She could feel him glow a bit brighter, and though she could not see the smile on his face, she knew it was there.

They got up after a few minutes, and took their things to the car that Vision drove here. He might have been born only a few months ago, but he had access to the entire internet. He knew how to drive.

Wanda flinched as gunshots rang out. Nearby. There was a bank nearby, and from the sound of things, it was being robbed. Wanda reached out with her mind to be sure. She could feel terror from most of those in the bank, but from three, she only sensed impatience, anger, and an undercurrent of anxiety.

Wanda looked at Vision, and relayed the information to him through their mental connection. He nodded once and shut the trunk of the car, shedding the tux. His usual suit was beneath it, and the cape grew once again. Wanda smiled grimly and together, they ran towards the bank.

Wanda opened the doors with her mind, both her and Vision bursting on the scene. Most of the people were cowering on the ground, save three, masked and armed.

The man closest to them shot at Vision, but he phased right through it. Wanda felt a thrill of fear before she saw he was unharmed, and turned her rage toward the shooter. She grabbed him with her powers and threw him across the room, throwing his gun in the opposite direction.

The second man tried shooting at Wanda, but she easily deflected the bullet. Vision streaked forward, not even touching the floor, and grabbed the man by the throat with one hand, the gun with the other. He lifted him from the ground and bent the barrel of the gun so it was unusable before dropping him to the ground.

The third man was smarter than his companions. He grabbed a young woman from the ground and pressed the gun against her head. "Let me go, or she dies," he snarled.

Wanda felt rage build inside her. She extended a hand at him, though he was about twenty feet away. He pressed the gun against the woman harder, and she whimpered, tears making their way down her face. Wanda clenched her fist, and crushed the gun with her powers, leaving the man with a handful of scrap metal.

Vision dropped from above, right in front of the man. He pulled the woman toward him with one hand and shoved the man down with the other.

Wanda grabbed one of the bags the man had been holding, which conveniently held chains, presumably to bind those in the bank once they were done robbing it. She smiled and moved the men into a huddle with her powers before securing them with the chains.

Vision let go of the woman, suddenly aware he was still holding her close. He smiled and met her eyes. "Did he hurt you?" he asked, concern in his voice. She shook her head.

Wanda narrowed her eyes as she heard sirens outside. She shrugged and grabbed the men in chains, walking out with Vision.

A policeman walked up to them, a hand on his gun. She could sense his unease and distrust. "Who are you?"

Wanda narrowed her eyes. "We just stopped these men from robbing this bank, and possibly killing the people inside. Ask any one of them what happened," she said snappishly as she sensed he thought she was lying.

She nodded to the officer and was about to walk away, when from the crowd of bystanders, policemen and reporters, she heard someone exclaim, "They're Avengers! That's Wanda Maximoff!"

Wanda flinched at her name. Suddenly, the world was a whirlwind of bright camera flashes, screaming questions, and a bustle of bodies.

"What do you have to say about your connections to Hydra?" Flash. "How do you feel about the death of your brother?" Flash. "Was your brother abusive?" Flash. "What is your robot made out of?" Flash. "Why did you help these people but not any others?" Flash. "Why is it necessary for a superhero to work with a machine?" Flash.

She was blinded, and each of the questions was like a physical blow. The crush of bodies made it nearly impossible to breath. Someone was going to get hurt if they didn't leave her alone. She couldn't. Handle it.

And suddenly, Vision was there. He pushed through the crowd and was at her side. They never could have made it to the car, so he grabbed her in his arms and simply flew straight up. He headed straight for the facility, moving so fast it was hard to breath, let alone talk.

When they finally alighted, out of breath and her hair windswept, she stumbled as he set her on the ground. "Thank you," she said, wiping off the tear on her face. But he didn't look at her. He stared at the ground instead.

"Vision?" She moved to touch his arm gently, but he moved so that she could not. Hurt filled her.

"What's wrong?" He didn't say anything, just stayed silent. She tried to touch his mind, but just as she felt the warm glow, she was shut out. It was like he had shoved her away mentally.

She gasped. She had never been shut out. Not by anyone. And certainly not by the one person alive she thought she could completely trust. Not when she needed them most.

"Why did you do that?" she asked, her eyes filling with unwanted tears. She wiped them away angrily, not wanting to be weak right now.

He didn't say anything, but he turned and walked away, back toward the facility. Wanda stared at his retreating back, at a loss for words.