Outdoor Event
*****
Wanda was not a team player. It was even written right there on her annual evaluation: “Ms. Maximoff has difficulty collaborating with others and cannot be considered a team player.” Not that it mattered much, since her boss just happened to be her best friend, and the rest of her eval practically glowed with praise. And hell, who needed to be a team player when she worked from home and her position as the private security firm’s operations coordinator didn’t actually require participating in group projects and all that crap?
Well, aside from days like this.
Ugh.
Natasha, the CEO and Head Bitch in Charge (her own words) of The Hydra Group had gotten into some ridiculous Twitter pissing contest with the owner of Stark Security Solutions, which culminated in Tony Stark challenging them to a tug-of-war in Central Park. It was stupid, but of course Nat refused to back down. “All hands on deck,” she’d insisted. Even got t-shirts printed up. So there they all were, on a gorgeous Saturday afternoon in late October, waiting for the Stark assholes to show up.
Wanda glanced over at her best friend since college, who actually seemed excited, with an unnerving gleam in her eyes. And of course she looked gorgeous in leather pants (seriously? For a tug-of-war?) and gray “The HYDRA Group: Six Arms to Destroy You” t-shirt. It figured that Nat could make that look sexy as hell; Wanda just looked like a street urchin in her matching t-shirt and far more practical jeans and sneakers. Off to the side, Sam was flexing his biceps, which the stupid t-shirt really did show off to nice effect. When Bucky started teasing him about the gun show, Sam glared back at him, but Wanda could see a hint of a smile. Rounding out their group of six were Clint (busy texting his wife and kids) and Scott (bending down to examine an anthill with his usual lack of focus.)
Great group. A bunch of ass-kickers. Or, to be honest, more likely to get their asses handed to them, since Natasha was the only one who actually wanted to be there. God forbid she ever back down from a challenge, even just a ridiculous dick-measuring contest on social media.
Just as she was about to find some excuse to get out of there – maybe she could claim bad cramps? – their opponents arrived.
The six of them practically strutted in like they were in West Side Story, sporting red t-shirts that actually said “Stark Raving Brawn” with their names printed under the logo. For fuck’s sake. She didn’t bother hiding her laugh.
Natasha leaned over. “Can you believe those shirts?”
“To be fair, they’re just as ridiculous as ours are.”
Her best friend elbowed her. “First of all: I’m going to remember you calling our shirts ridiculous on your next evaluation. Second: this isn’t tug-of-fair. It’s tug-of-war, Maximoff.”
Whatever.
Just gotta get through this, and then she could go home and binge-watch season two of The Good Place. The things you do for your boss, right? And your closest, dearest friend.
Across the clearing, Tony Stark crossed his arms. “Ready to get your ass kicked, Romanoff?”
“Bring it on, Stark.”
Wanda was pretty sure that, despite their apparent bravado, the other Stark lackeys were just as annoyed as she was. She didn’t know any of them except for their boss, but at least they had nametags on. The guy whose shirt said “Steve” was pretty hot, with muscles to match Sam’s. T’Challa was even hotter than his coworker. Peggy had a determined look on her face, and her hairstyle must have a gallon of gel to keep those curls in place. Rhodey just seemed bemused by it all. And there at the back was a tall blond guy with “Vision” on his shirt. Weird name. He shifted on his feet, looking intensely uncomfortable. Should be easy to beat.
“So, um, hi!” Everyone turned to look at Scott. “Are there gonna be any rules for this thing? Or are we doing a free-for-all?”
That was weird. The whole reason Nat had hired him as a lock-picking expert was because he was an ex-con who didn’t follow the rules. Hell, it wasn’t like private security firms were sticklers for decorum or anything. But the guy whose shirt said Steve piped up, “Setting up rules for this engagement would be a good idea. Best to do everything fair and square.”
Peggy and T’Challa nodded. Vision still looked uncomfortable. Everyone else rolled their eyes.
Tony smirked. “How about this? First team to fall on their octopus asses is the loser. Only rule we need.”
Wanda was pretty sure she heard Vision mutter something about octopuses having eight arms, not six. She smirked at him. He smiled back. Interesting. And kinda cute.
“Fine. But your lot are going to regret it when you fall on your Stark Raving Asses.” Natasha looked pleased with herself. Good lord. This was getting more ridiculous by the second. Forget about avoiding another negative annual evaluation. Her boss was going to owe her a massive bonus for showing up at this debacle.
There was some bickering about which team’s rope to use, but Hydra won that debate since they’d brought nylon rope that wouldn’t tear their hands to pieces. As a concession, Stark Security Solutions got to use their orange pylon to mark the dividing line. Once everything was in place, the twelve of them got into position, with Wanda bringing up the rear on Hydra’s side. (If they were going to lose, it wouldn’t be because of her.) Then another round of bickering about who would do the countdown, until Sam – always the skilled negotiator – declared that they should all count in unison.
“Three – two – one – GO.”
Wanda Maximoff was not a gym rat, but she jogged on the weekends and could get through a pickleball match without gasping or breaking a sweat (well, most of the time). When she moved into a new apartment last year, she got annoyed when sexist new neighbors tried to lift boxes for her, because she was perfectly capable of lifting them herself. Besides, even though she might work for a private security firm full of jacked-up gals and guys, she was a desk jockey. No need for huge muscles or marathon endurance.
Right now, though? Fuck.
The first yank on the rope nearly toppled Wanda onto her butt, but she somehow managed to stay upright. She dug in her heels and kept pulling, even though her teammates were doing all the work. At least her position at the back meant her colleagues couldn’t see how weak she was. Plus, it also gave her a nice view of Bucky’s perfect ass. Damn. He was pulling harder than she was, even with his prosthetic arm.
The whole thing didn’t take long. All the grunting sounded like they were in some bizarre orgy in the middle of the park. Every muscle in her body screamed, but she held on… until suddenly the rope went slack, and Wanda fell down. Bucky promptly collapsed on top of her. He jerked back, and she smirked, resisting the urge to assure him that she wouldn’t file a harassment complaint against him. Instead, she panted, “Did we win?”
Brushing dirt off their clothes, they sat up and looked around. Then Natasha shouted, “VICTORY!”
Wanda exhaled. It was over. Thank god.
When she managed to stand up, she saw Tony and Steve at the other end of the rope, looking downright pissed off. “You cheated,” the former said, while the latter just glared.
Hands on hips, Natasha’s voice dripped sarcasm. “I’m shocked that you would be a sore loser, Stark. We won fair and square. Get over it.”
More grumbling from the other team, while hers practically did a victory dance. Wanda didn’t really give a damn. At least now she could go home and enjoy the rest of her weekend. Then she noticed Vision looking at her, a slight smile on his face. Huh. She’d seen smiles like that before, and they usually led to a very different tug-of-war between the sheets. Well, then. He was cute. Why not?
As the others gathered their things to leave, she walked over to him, holding out a hand for him to shake. When he did, his hand was warm. Nice. He said in a honeyed accent, “Congratulations on your victory. Miss….”
“Wanda.”
“Ah. Wanda.” Damn, that voice really was like honey. “Lovely to meet you. I’m Vision.”
“I figured as much.” Off his surprised expression, she raised her eyebrows and looked down at his shirt. He laughed. “Right. Of course. Rather absurd, isn’t it?”
She shrugged. “Just as absurd as everything else about today. Makes me glad I stay the hell away from social media.”
“Same here.”
“Let me guess: you prefer books to smartphones?”
He blushed, just a little bit. “Guilty as charged, though I do have a weakness for the New York Times crossword app.”
They stood there, shifting on their feet, full of meet-cute awkwardness. Not that she minded. Rom-coms were a weakness of hers, and this was definitely a scenario she hadn’t yet seen in any movies or TV shows or romance novels.
Of course their respective bosses broke the spell. Still looking pissed off, Tony called out, “Stop fraternizing with the enemy, Vision,” and winked at them (sexist bastard.) Vision himself didn’t break her gaze. Also nice.
Then Natasha walked over to them. “The guys and I are headed out for a round of celebratory drinks. Gonna join us?” She gave Vision a pointed look and turned to Wanda. “Or maybe you have other plans?”
It was Wanda’s turn to blush. “I’ll see you on Monday, Nat.” And maybe her boss left, but Wanda couldn’t tell because she was too busy staring at Vision’s ridiculously blue eyes.
Just the two of them now. “So… um… want to get a drink?”
His “That sounds rather nice” was almost a stammer, which was adorable.
And sure, the afternoon had been stupid, but a drink with this guy – plus maybe another round of tug-of-war – just might make the whole thing worthwhile.
*****