Whaaaat? Two chapters in two days? I know I'm too nice to you guys. But college starts up in a week from today, so this is me cramming in all the fun writing while I can.

The clock on the nightstand positioned between me and Wanda's beds had to be wrong. I hadn't woken up in double digits since high school. The only sound in the apartment came from the clunky heater striving to beat back the cold air seeping in the walls. Outside, cars horns and crowds of voices told me the rest of the world was already in full swing. There was a buzzing coming from the floor that I realized had been the source of my consciousness.

With a dreary glance, I saw the B flashing on my screen indicating a call.

"Fuck," I dove to the ground, taking the majority of my covers with me. "Hello?" I answered, voice sounding like I'd gargled with nails.

"You're alive," Bucky's reply came.

"Unfortunately," I grumbled. "I got your text, but I'm not up to date on the code thing."

"Haven," Wanda groaned, rolling under her mound of pillows to drown me out.

"Good morning to you too," I called. Red danced between her finger tips and I scurried out of the room, not wanting to provoke the unreadable witch.

"How are things there?" Bucky asked as I wandered into the kitchen where Clint nursed a practically boiling mug of coffee. The heat, however, seemed not to affect the assassin. He tapped his ear and inclined his head curiously.

"Father Christmas," I told the blonde.

"Fucking hysterical." Clint rolled his eyes and turned back his attention to the newspaper he had fanned across the bar.

"What?" Bucky asked.

"Clint's being a nosy dick. Wanda definitely freaks me out. And Scott keeps offering things a lady would never even consider. I think it's because he's secretly in love with Clint and has to let off steam somehow."

Clint smirked. "Well, who isn't in love with me?"

"Since when are you a lady?" Bucky said in my ear.

"I don't like either of you." I clicked my tongue, digging out a half empty carton of eggs from the fridge. "So, the serum?" I clicked on a burner and went on a search for a pan to make Scott his precious eggs.

"The tests say that I'm leveling out. But the only real way to test it would be to trigger the Winter Soldier, which no one is really keen on doing."

"That's great, Bucky. Once you get that head of yours straightened out, you should really come visit. I could use some decent company around here."

I could almost hear his smile through the receiver as his smooth voice bounced with amusement. "You've only been gone a day, Haven." Then, softer. "How are you really? I know before you were a little unstable."

"I'm fine," I clipped.

"Yeah, I believe that."

I chose to ignore his pointed sarcasm. "Good. I'll text you eventually. Go get better."

I hung up, tossing the phone down onto the counter so I could begin cracking eggs. If I was going to remain here, I had to at least give off the pretense that I was trying to fit in. I didn't hate the Avengers. I didn't want to hurt them, but I also couldn't sit back and let whatever useful substance I had in my veins go to waste. So, I would play it cool with my natural charm.

Clint raised his eyebrows but kept his mouth shut except to request his eggs sunny side up. The smells of breakfast lured in the two other sleepy occupants who settled into bar stools on either side of Clint. The eggs simmered away while I observed them. They didn't look like deadly warriors. They just looked washed out. Scott was bouncing in his chair, anxious to eat. When I finally dished up his meal, he tore into it without a fork. Clint waved me off and Wanda set to reluctantly pushing hers around her plate.

"When do we start training?" I asked her, leaning across the counter.

"Whenever you are ready."

"I'm ready."

"You are not ready," she said.

"Definitely not ready," Clint agreed.

"You can't know that. You haven't even seen me use my powers," I argued.

"And we won't until you get a handle on that fear eating you up," Wanda said, guarded green eyes boring straight through me. I knew she had strange powers involving energy and the mind, but surely she could not read all my thoughts. If that was the case, and she knew what I was planning, I would have an arrow in my throat by now.

"I'm not afraid…"

Scott shook his head quickly. "Yeah, don't even try that angle. Wanda here knows what she's talking about when it comes to your deep dark worst fears. These eggs are perfection, by the way. What was mine again, Wanda?"

"Losing the ones you love," Wanda said cooly.

Scott snapped his fingers and pointed. "See? I didn't even know that."

"That doesn't sound very dark," I pointed out.

"And she has no one left she loves," Wanda leaned forward, interest apparently peaked.

The room went as silent as the vacuum of space. Even the traffic outside silenced in respect to watch me pass by, a rare meteor that visited the Earth only every few decades. I clasped my hands behind my back tightly. Wanda relied more on emotions than actual thoughts, so I kept my pulse low by manipulating the air entering my lungs. I would not let her know just how sensitive the nerve she'd struck was.

"How can you not love anyone?" Scott asked through a mouthful.

"I love my dad," I said quickly.

"You don't have a father anymore, just as I do not have a brother. The dead do not need our love," Wanda said. "That's it, though, isn't it? You fear love. You talk and jest and let everyone feel like they're close to you while keeping a gun ready behind your back."

"To be fair," Scott interrupted. "I'm pretty sure that's Clint's strategy too. And, hell, maybe even mine."

"And I can't shoot for shit," I input.

"But even you two have friends, people you would give your life for. Is there anyone you would do that for, Haven?" Wanda continued.

"Why does it matter? So what if I don't have anyone to love. I don't need that to train."

"No," Wanda admitted. "But fear has a way of taking you apart piece by piece. That is something I had to learn on my own. You have to be at peace before you use your gifts or they will consume you."

"Awesome. Thanks for the psychoanalysis." I tossed the egg pan into the sink, snatched up my phone and strode to the heavy metal door. I touched it, but it didn't open.

"Oops, sorry. I don't have it set to your biometrics yet." Scott dashed over and opened it for me with a wrap of his knuckles.

"Where are you going?" Clint called.

"To get more eggs," I called.

"Oh! Can I come?" Scott asked excitedly.

I dipped my head in a nod. I tolerated him the best. And truthfully, while I wanted to be away from Wanda, I didn't want to be alone. I hated that; it gave me too much time to think.

Scott pulled on a baseball cap and a hoodie over it, concealing his identity. Tufts of dark hair peaked out adorably against his pale forehead. He offered me one of his beanies, which I tugged into place gratefully. My long spiraling hair hung loosely past my shoulders today and I made a mental note to buy ponytails as well. Scott led the way down the stairs, strolling out the front door instead of through the garage. I was glad we weren't taking the motorbike. I needed the calm air that surrounded us on the slow walk to the grocery.

The sun peeped down from its hiding among the clouds and brought much needed warmth to my cheeks. The four lane street in front of the complex was relatively empty except for the occasional mad driver tearing past in haste to get to work. Scott nudged me to the right, towards the line of yellowed trees hanging over the sidewalk. A pair of kids dressed in school uniforms scuttled between us, cackling at the top of their lungs. Scott smiles at the retreating girls, a soft fondness taking over his good-natured features.

"Daughter?" I guessed.

He nodded, not saying anything for once. I let it drop. He was here and she wasn't, so whatever happened couldn't have been good. I guess being a wanted criminal could have something to do with it.

A cute mom and pop corner store drew us in with its freshly backed pastries lining the windows and cheery classical tunes playing form speaker. Scott was lost in his thoughts the entire time we shopped, so when I went searching his pockets for a wallet, he jolted.

"Woah, why are you feeling me up?"

"I don't have money," I told him.

"Well, neither do I. Clint's in charge of that stuff. Oh." He looked down at the basket of eggs and ponytails, realizing the problem.

Raising my hands, I wiggled my fingers playfully. "Got five of 'em. Can you say discount?"

"We're not supposed to draw attention."

"We won't if we do it right." I reached into the basket, swiping the ponytails, then leaned closer to Scott. I kept those lively hazel eyes locked on my dark ones as I slide my hand up the back of his jacket where I tucked the pack into his jeans. Strangely enough, though I really should have expected it, there was a gun stashed there as well.

"You're hands are little icicles," he informed me. "What's happening to the baby chickens?"

I switched our position so that now I was the one hidden from the cameras. "Cover me," I muttered slipping the eggs into the front of my jacket. Scott leaned closer offering the requested protection and his nose brushed against my temple. With my arms wrapped tightly about my waist to keep the eggs still, I whipped my head up. I could hear the oxygen rushing in and out of his lungs at a rapid pace. The air surrounding us was charged with some magnetic force that prevented me from stepping away. It wasn't love, nothing that innocent, this was pure lust. It had been far too long since I'd been in the throws with someone as admittedly attractive as Scott and his offers no longer sounded so preposterous.

His hand reached to press against my cheek, warm and soft, testing the waters. I was not that kind of girl; diving in the deep end without a lifejacket was more my style.

"It's weird, right?" I asked.

"So weird," he murmured.

"Hey. Buy something or get out." An irritated worker called as he passed our aisle.

In my startled state, the eggs fell from my grip to crack against the floor. The worker frowned in confusion as I stooped to collect the few that had been spared. I reached down, grasping Scott's hand to lead him in a made sprint out the door.

"Wait a minute!" the worker shouted after us as he realized what was happening.

But it was too late. We were long gone. Scott kept glancing back for several blocks until our building was in sight. Then, he turned a brilliant grin on me. "That was the most fun I've had in weeks."

"More to come," I promised with a wink.

My phone buzzed in my back pocket, so I passed off the handfuls of eggs to Scott and dug it out. An email response with no return address. It was from Menzel.

Haven is creating quite a mess for herself. Two guys. Two allegiances. What could possibly go wrong?