Another day, another chapter. I noticed that I got my highest view count on the last chapter, despite a lack of reviews/follows/favorites. I got me scratching my head. Anyhow, read this chapter before I have to go back to summer school tomorrow. Read away.

Steve spent most of the time on the return flight sleeping. Or rather, being kept awake by his own thoughts. His mind couldn't get the day's events out of his head.

It had been very much unlike him to beat up that foul-mouthed protestor like he did. On one hand, the son of a bitch deserved it. All of them, actually, shouldn't have been turning against the people who were trying to help them. On the other, that guy had the nerve to insult Wanda in his presence, and Steve wasn't going to let that happen.

She was getting in his mind even without using her telepathy.

Kissing her had been different. With Peggy, it had been a 'what the hell' situation, and probably would have been something more had he not gone under the ice. With Natasha, kissing her had been, to put it in Natasha's own words, 'just business'. Nothing more, nothing less.

With Wanda Maximoff, it was different. With most girls, they didn't bother with the inner man that Steve Rogers was. All they wanted was the physique that the super soldier serum had given him. Far too many times in World War II had he bene proven of that. Peggy was an exception, but that was long in the past. The world didn't change a bit. Trying to get in your pants, as Tony Stark would have said.

Wanda Maximoff probably didn't care how he looked. She cared about how he cared for her. And that was what made him drawn to her.

Wanda, curled up in the opposite side of the Quinjet, was thinking the same thing. Sure, Steve Rogers was a heartthrob, but he was a heartthrob with a soul. She thought he was the most incorruptible man she'd ever known. The incident with the protestor was a sign of his fierce loyalty, not an unconquerable wrath, though she'd seen firsthand men who'd succumbed to such rage.

Hopefully, Steve Rogers would not be one of those men.

The Quinjet touched down at the facility a couple of hours later; they'd fixed the mechanical problems before leaving South Africa. Black Widow was waiting for them, along with Falcon. She'd finished her spy satellite job with Fury around the same time Steve and his team had finished theirs in Africa.

"Hey Cap," said Sam. He and Vision had defused the hostage situation without any real complcations. "How was South Africa? Sunny?"

"Aside from the protestors that hate our guts? Yeah, sunny would be the right word." Steve didn't feel like chit-chat. This was the third time he'd beaten up someone that had tried to pick a fight with Wanda Maximoff. He wasn't sure whether it was just his gut instinct kicking in, or rather his feelings for her.

Cut it out, Steve.

"Don't want to talk about it, do you?"

"Please, Sam."

"It's alright, Cap," Sam wanted to have his friend's back. "Trust me, whatever it is that's bothering you, I won't tell anyone."

"I keep attacking anyone who's rude or disrespectful to Wanda. And not just a punch or two. I mean, almost out of control."

Sam's eyes widened, then widened some more. "Does this have to do with that whole crush thing Nat and you and I were talking about."

"I don't know, Sam. I don't know."

Sam took a minute to collect what to say to Cap. Not every day Mr. America came to you asking for emotional/relationship advice.

"You're smitten with her, Cap. That much I can tell you. I can't give you anger management advice, but maybe do missions and stuff separately. I don't know, man."

"Thanks for caring, Sam, but I don't know who's going to keep a watch on her if she goes berserk."

"She's a grown woman and she's been training with you over that. I think she'll be just fine."

Wanda Maximoff threw herself on the bed. It had been a long week (minus the date with Steve Rogers), and she was finally getting some rest.

After a few hours of napping, she found herself unable to fall back to sleep. So she got up, put on her coat (the thermostat was set on quite a bit cold) and forced herself to walk to the facility's dining hall. It was large and mostly empty, being the middle of the night. Natasha, dressed in her usual jumpsuit, was setting at one of the tables, munching on a bag of chips.

"Hey, little witch," she said to the Sokovian girl. "Couldn't fall asleep either?"

"I guess not."

"Good. Go get yourself something to eat and sit down with me."

So she did, picking out a jar of Nutella (she'd developed a craving for it) and some water to wash it down.

"So how's Cap doing?" Natasha seemed concerned about their leader, and a quick peek into her mind confirmed this for Wanda. She tried to be as quick and nonintrusive as she could.

"He makes a good leader," said Wanda, "but he seems to be… passionate, in a way, when it comes to defending me. He nearly beat one of the protestors to death for insulting me in South Africa. I had to keep them apart."

Natasha was just taking all of this in, trying to get a grasp of the situation. "Interesting. You know, you might be the first girl he's fallen for since Peggy Carter. I'm still trying to wrap my brain around it, given his track record with women."

Wanda realized the older woman was right. "It's just… why me?"

"Well, you're kind of like him, giving yourself to science with noble intent. Throw in the fact that you're insanely cute, and that's a package deal."

Wanda almost blushed. "You're too kind, Natasha."

"Thanks," she replied as she finished her bag of chips and tossed it in the trash can. "And I wouldn't worry too much about him getting angry issues. Steve's isn't that kind of guy. When he gets angry, it's usually for the right reason."

"I hope so," Wanda replied, uneasily eating another spoonful of Nutella. "I really do. You know, I've never said I'm sorry to you for…"

"The whole mind game thing?"

"Sure, if that's what you want to call it. I guess seeing what you went through makes my childhood not so bad in comparison."

"Maybe." The Black Widow, although not appeased with her mind having been tampered with, was able to move past it, if only for practical reasons. "No point in comparing each other's sob stories. Besides, you were Ultron's pawn during all of it. And stop eating all the Nutella, damn it. I want some too."

With the passing of the Nutella jar came a close to talking about painful subjects and a transition to more friendly chatter. Wanda knew Natasha was trying to be as friendly as possible without keeping her mind unguarded. And for the Black Widow, it was hard. She'd tried that with Bruce Banner with mixed results. Now, Banner was in hiding again, and it was hard on a woman designed only for killing.

But, Wanda could always hold her end of the bargain: don't mess with people's minds, and we won't view you as a threat. Or, at least Natasha Romanoff wouldn't.

Not far from the Avengers headquarters, while Natasha and Wanda were discussing life over a jar of Nutella, a van parked itself about half a mile to the south. Charon opened up his laptop and began scanning all the programs on it. If Gasol had done his part of the project correctly, he would have surveillance on the entire complex.

They would need this for the next job.

Neptune's phone rang. He looked at the caller, saw that it was the correct client, and answered. "Yes."

"This is your call telling you to go ahead and get it done."

"It will be." Neptune closed the phone and watched the surveillance footage.

Andrew Forson, Neptune had figured out a long time ago, wasn't one for small talk anyways.

Wanda went off to bed not long after the Nutella jar was done with. When she woke up, it was to the smell of bacon, pancakes, and an assortment of fresh fruit.

Turns out, Steve had made breakfast. "For you or for everyone?" she asked him.

"For you, actually. But we can share if you like."

Steve was actually a really good chef, Wanda figured out later. She'd eaten all of this in droves since moving here but Captain America just seemed to have his own touch. "Where'd you learn to cook?"

"My mother taught me," said the super soldier. "Being poor and without a husband, she essentially made me the man of the house. Thought me everything she knew." They shared a look. "I think you would have liked her."

"Likewise with my own mother," said Wanda, tossing a strand of her hair out of her face. "You have no idea how troublesome Pietro and I could be."

"Oh really?" asked a skeptical Steve, raising an eyebrow. "You'll have to tell me more about it. It couldn't have been worse than… you know."

And so they talked about their childhoods. Both of them realized that they were more alike than different. Post-Communism Sokovia wasn't that much far away from the slums of Brooklyn in the 1920s. Wanda ended up telling him about that one time when Pietro and her, barely teenagers, robbed a UN van worth of medicine.

"Wasn't that stealing?" asked a slightly surprised Rogers.

"Pietro didn't care. The way he viewed it, it was going to end up on the black market and not with people who really needed it, so why not?" Her voice has a touch of distress. She knew impossible choices were made every day, but she hated being at the choosing end of one of them.

"But did you ever hand it out to said people?"

She let off a small smile. "After we took what we needed for ourselves, of course."

Sam walked in a few seconds later. He didn't say much, but he did grab some bacon and said "Training in five, Cap. I think Fury wants you and I working together today."

"Gotcha." Steve turned back towards Wanda, pulling her in. "I'll see you later today, alright?"

"Alright."

Her chest was rising as quickly as his. Steve's hands found her waist and drew her in. His puppy blue eyes locked onto her dark eyes. From there, it was just a matter of seconds before their lips connected.

This time, it was slower, and they were able to take their time doing so. For Steve, the whole process was still somewhat awkward, but he was learning each time. Wanda, on the other hand, had had flings before, but not an actual relationship that lasted very long. So while she was more experienced, she had never really found someone that really cared.

When the kiss finally ended, Steve looked around uneasily. Then he focused on her. "Be safe."

"Don't worry about me, Captain. Worry about yourself and what you could do to others."

"You know it was to protect you, right? In South Africa, I mean."

"I just don't want you losing yourself like I have before."

"I'll try harder next time." Although he isn't sure of it, he kisses her forehead to reassure her that he's fine, and heads out the see what the day may bring.