Chapter 3
Vision sleeps better away from the city.
There’s something about the darkness and quiet that exhausts him to a point where he conks out almost the second his head hits the pillow.
He loves living in the city, it’s the best place for food and entertainment and just experiencing the expanse of human life, but it really sucks for people who like getting a solid eight hours of sleep a night.
So, when they arrive in Connecticut at Tony’s friend’s bed and breakfast, Vision knows he’s in for a restful week. Or as restful as he can get when he’s trundling after Tony, picking up the chaos he leaves in his wake.
He has to admit though, waking up with a patch of sun stretching over his bed gently, a tiny bird whistling outside his window, he can understand why people leave the city for the country.
He rolls over to check his phone, sliding a hand across his face as he disables do not disturb and watches the notifications flood in.
The only one he checks is from Tony that reads: breakfast downstairs at 10?
He quickly types out: sure! and swings his legs over the side of the bed to shower and dress for the day.
The air outside his covers is chilly and he hops a bit to avoid the cold hardwood floors on his bare feet as he strips off his boxers and steps under the hot spray of the shower.
Twenty minutes later, he’s dressed in a comfortable pair of khakis and a white button down, his hair brushed away from his face and left to dry naturally in the morning air. He spins a blue sports coat over his arms to keep the goosebumps at bay and opens his door to the hallway.
Tony’s room is next door, and Vision snips the door shut softly, conscious of anyone else who might be enjoying a morning to sleep in and knocks lightly on Tony’s door.
The door swings in to reveal a room very similar to Vision’s in size and layout, a four-poster bed with pale sheets and a fluffy white comforter is positioned on the wall running perpendicular to the door. A window with a cheerful yellow curtain streams sunlight in pools across the dainty carpet, an armchair angled next to a set of drawers and a door leading to the en suite bathroom.
Tony has only half unpacked his suitcase, his clothes strewn haphazardly across the bedspread, his one suit tossed carelessly over the arm chair.
Vision huffs at Tony’s cheerful good morning, and crosses the room to lift his suit and hang it in the closet.
Tony rolls his eyes. “Thanks, Mom.”
“I know you’re being sarcastic, but you’ll thank me when you aren’t standing on stage in a wrinkled suit,” Vision answers.
“That’s what I pay you and a steamer for,” Tony claps him on the back.
“One day,” Vision grumbles. “I’m going to let you leave the house in unpressed slacks.”
“We both know that’s an empty threat,” Tony tosses over his shoulder.
He’s right, damn him, and Vision follows him from the room, closing the door with a light slam.
Tony just raises and eyebrow and Vision stomps past him, needing eggs and a bracing cup of tea before he can continue the conversation.
The banister of the steps is wrapped in a garland of evergreen branches and string lights, the smell of pine coating the air when Vision runs his palm across the needles as he descends the stairs to the first floor.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a flash of red and the swirl of a black coat right before he meets the enormous, and now extremely familiar, green eyes of Wanda Maximoff.
She’s standing in the foyer, her red hair tossed carelessly on top of her head, an oversized sweatshirt practically swallowing her frame, two suitcases heaped on the floor by her feet. Her hands are tucked into her pockets and her shoulders are hunched.
And right behind her, Pepper Potts is leaning over the desk, chatting with Darcy.
Vision sees the exact moment Wanda recognizes him, because her mouth drops open and her eyes bug out of her head.
He feels frozen on the steps, as though he’s watching a train wreck happen in slow motion, unable to stop the inevitable ending.
And then, Wanda Maximoff does a curious thing.
She whirls towards Pepper Potts and says something that causes Darcy’s eyes to widen and Pepper’s cheeks to turn pink, but before either woman can say anything else, Wanda grabs both the suitcases at her feet and extends her hand to Darcy. The latter places two keys into Wanda’s hand and she begins to tug the bags towards the stairs, her cheeks red and her eyes still full of panic.
Vision doesn’t know what exactly she’s trying to accomplish, but he does see the message that flashes across her face as she approaches the stairs.
Vision twirls on Tony. “Uh,” he says brilliantly. “Uh, shit. I forgot; I need your copy of the audition itinerary.”
“What, now?” Tony thankfully has been looking down at his phone for the last fifteen seconds, but he snaps his head up with a frown.
“Yes, uh,” Vision fumbles. “I wanted to look it over with you at breakfast, just so we’re both on the same page.”
Tony mutters something under his breath, but turns to go back up the stairs. “Get me a coffee and eggs. I want it waiting for me when I get back.”
“Right,” Vision nods.
The second Tony vanishes into his room, Vision feels a small hand grabbing his forearm and he twists around, this time prepared for Wanda Maximoff’s unorthodox means of getting his attention.
“We don’t have a lot of time,” she hisses at him. “Pepper hates people giving her tours.”
“What?” Vision says stupidly because she’s here, standing in front of him with those ridiculous green eyes trained on his face and her small, ungloved fingers pressing heat into his arm.
“Darcy’s showing Pepper around,” Wanda repeats slowly, as though she can sense it’s going to take him a moment to catch up. “What the hell are you doing here?”
This shakes Vision from whatever Wanda induced coma he’d been thrown unwillingly into. “Me?” he asks. “What are you doing here?”
“I asked you first!”
“We were here first!”
“This was the only hotel Pepper would agree on, she said she wanted the solitude.”
“Tony knows the owner,” Vision makes a half-hearted wave towards Darcy’s desk. “He always stays here when he’s in Connecticut.”
Wanda closes her eyes and presses her fingers to the bridge of her nose, huffing in frustration. “Of course,” she mutters. “The audition.”
“Yeah,” Vision shifts. “Tony’s going to look at talent.”
Wanda’s hand drops. “Pepper’s a guest speaker.”
Vision chews on the inside of his cheek. “What do we do?”
Wanda shrugs helplessly. “Hope they don’t see each other?”
“West Lockfee’s not big enough for that,” Vision snorts. “Plus, I’m pretty sure Tony’s got a Pepper Potts radar.”
“This is going to be hell,” Wanda groans.
“Truly,” Vision agrees right as a lightning bolt of inspiration hits him. “Unless-.”
Wanda yanks her head up and looks at him with such a look of hopeful optimism that he loses his train of thought. “Unless?” she prompts him after a moment of silence.
“Right,” Vision shakes himself back on track. “Unless, we keep them apart.”
Wanda’s brows crash together. “What?”
“We have complete control over their schedules,” Vision points out. “We know exactly where they’re going to be and when, all we have to do is make sure their paths don’t cross.”
Wanda bites her lower lip as she considers him for a long moment. “Okay,” she shoves her hand out for him to shake. “How hard can it be?”
***
Very hard, apparently.
Not fifteen minutes later and Wanda’s already regretting her decision to go along with Vision Shade’s ridiculous idea. She deposits the suitcases into hers and Pepper’s room, barely taking a second to admire the soft muted colors and the pale sunshine pouring through the windows, when she slams into Pepper and Darcy completing the tour of the bed and breakfast.
“The upstairs has two separate wings with four rooms on each side,” Darcy is saying as Wanda emerges from Pepper’s room. “And this is your room!” Darcy finishes with a flourish of her hand.
Wanda is expecting Pepper to be angry or at least frustrated with her for pushing her on a tour with Darcy, but Pepper’s eyes are shining and her cheeks are pink.
“Wanda!” she calls. “You have to see the gardens; this place is amazing!”
Darcy waves her hand modestly. “It’s a work in progress.”
“I wish my works in progress looked half as good as this,” Pepper beams at her.
Darcy shifts, looking uncomfortable with the praise. “If you’d like, breakfast is still happening, I have some fresh cinnamon rolls and coffee.”
Pepper turns to Wanda with her jaw dropped. “You’re going to have to drag my lifeless body out of here, Wanda, I’m never leaving.”
Wanda gives a nervous laugh, hoping Pepper doesn’t pick up on her discomfort and follows the two women back down the stairs towards the dining room.
The dining room with Vision Shade and Tony Stark.
Wanda sees the back of Vision’s head and a peep of Tony’s cream sweater at the far end of the table, both men bent over heaping plates of eggs.
Her heart rate spikes.
“I-uh-,” she garbles.
Pepper looks at her in concern. “Wanda?”
Help, help, help, she searches vainly for a way out.
“Garden!” she blurts.
“What?” Pepper asks.
“You said the garden was lovely,” Wanda says. “Can we eat outside?”
Darcy nods, but Pepper looks uncertain. “It’s cold out there.”
“It’s not too cold,” Wanda is babbling now, gesturing for Darcy to lead them to the garden. “In fact, the New York Times was saying it’s an unseasonably warm week for December in New England.”
Pepper blinks at her blankly.
“I need some air?” Wanda improvises weakly.
Pepper creases her brow. “Are you not feeling well?”
“I’m fine!” Wanda answers hastily, feeling as though she’s losing the minute control she had over the situation. “Just, long car ride… New York City… I need some fresh air.”
Darcy gestures them to the back of the building and points at a wooden door. “Out that way is the garden, I’ll bring some coffee and cinnamon rolls to you in a second.”
Wanda takes a deep breath and pulls Pepper outside, ignoring the chill of the air and huddles over her cup of coffee.
***
Vision is wishing he’d said to hell with it and let Pepper and Tony have it out in the lobby.
He’s trying to keep up with the schedule of the day, but Tony has decided to go to the audition venue early, to see where he’s going to be stationed.
This should have been an easy escape, but as Vision and Tony are exiting the bed and breakfast, the chilly afternoon air raising goosebumps on his arms, Vision sees Wanda and Pepper rounding the side of the house, cups of coffee cradled in their hands.
“…I don’t really see why you want to walk all the way around the house,” Pepper is saying as they come around the side. “The gardens I understand, but this?”
Vision freezes in his tracks and swings his head towards the front door where Tony is stepping out and does the first thing he can think of.
He tackles Tony backwards, sending them both sprawling on the floor of the foyer.
“What the hell?” Darcy starts from behind the desk and runs over to see if they’re alright.
“Vision!” Tony manages to boom, even where he’s lying breathless on the floor.
“I’m so sorry, sir,” Vision gasps, righting himself. “I think I got a bit lightheaded and just fell over.”
“You just fell over?” Tony repeats, disbelief dripping from his tone. He accepts Darcy’s hand to pull himself off the floor, leaving Vision to struggle to his feet by himself. “You couldn’t have tried to grab the door frame or the wall before me?”
“Sorry,” Vision answers, keeping his lashes lowered, his eyes darting to the side to see if Wanda and Pepper have disappeared.
Darcy and Tony are both looking at him with identical expressions of disbelief, though Darcy’s has grown suspicious.
“Head rush?” Vision offers weakly.
Tony snorts. “I’m driving,” and snatches the car keys from Vision’s fingers, leaving him behind.
***
Wanda is doing her best to stick to the schedule of the day, which is to say, they were supposed to be doing nothing after Pepper got settled in her room.
Instead, Pepper has decided that she wants to tour the audition venue and see where she’ll be speaking the next day, so she wrangles Wanda off her bed with promises of overtime and holiday pay and the two drive the one and a half miles down the road to the center of the town to see the audition venue.
We should have planned this better, Wanda thinks as she fires off a quick text to Vision to tell him that, they were in fact, off schedule.
He doesn’t reply and Wanda enters the large arena gym with jittery nerves and snapping thoughts.
It’s a huge space, the floor is polished to a reflective shine and the basketball nets have been pulled up into the rafters. The bleaches are collapsed and pressed up against the wall, out of the way of the people running everywhere, setting up large white tables and rows and rows of chairs.
“How many people are they expecting?” Wanda asks Pepper, her eyes getting larger and larger.
“At least four hundred,” Pepper answers, her face a satisfied, excited oval. “Isn’t it amazing?”
Amazing isn’t the first word that springs into Wanda’s head as she views the bustle with a tiny cushion of dismay. There are too many people, too many corners to observe, too many entrances to keep an eye on.
She’s imagining Tony and Vision appearing around every corner and each blonde man she catches out of the corner of her eye causes her pulse to rocket and her palms to sweat.
“I hate Tony Stark,” she mutters under her breath.
Pepper claps her on the shoulder. “Me too.”
As though saying his name out loud conjured him, Wanda catches a glimpse of a tall blond man entering the space on the opposite side of the gym, his blue jacket distinctive in the bustle.
“Oh god,” she says out loud and Pepper swings her head to look at her with some concern.
“What-?”
“Miss. Potts!”
Wanda lets out a relieved huff of air as Pepper’s attention swings to a man with salt and pepper hair, a light blue and green flannel stretched across his body and a clipboard clutched in his hand.
“Miss. Potts, we weren’t expecting you until tomorrow,” the man is saying as he approaches them.
“I’m so sorry-,” Pepper pauses.
“Bruce,” the man fills in. “Bruce Banner.”
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Banner,” Pepper answers in her smooth, diplomatic way, her dimples appearing as she flashes him a warm smile. “My assistant and I wanted to get a sense of the space; I don’t mean to be a bother.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Wanda can see Vision getting closer and closer. He clearly hasn’t noticed them yet, his attention on the scrambling people running around in a controlled chaos.
“…my assistant, Wanda Maximoff,” Pepper’s voice jars Wanda from her frantic study of the men crossing the gym and she turns a manic smile to Bruce Banner.
“Nice to meet you,” she manages.
“Likewise,” Bruce shakes her hand. “What can I help you with?”
“Can we see the space where she’ll be speaking?” Wanda blurts, her voice loud and wobbly.
“Uh,” Bruce looks unsure. “I mean, I’m not sure if the theater is open but I can check-.”
“Great!” Wanda yelps. “Come on, Pepper lets go see it!” She grabs Pepper’s hand and pulls her towards the exit, Bruce following with an unsure look on his face.
“It’s this way,” he gestures and Wanda bounds down the hallway.
“Come on, Pepper!” she calls.
She hears Pepper mutter something under her breath, but Wanda ignores it.
***
Vision sees her familiar red hair vanish down the hallway of the venue and lets out a stream of curses under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingertips.
“You okay?” Tony nudges him with his shoulder and Vision lets his fingers drop.
“Fine,” he answers. “Still just a bit light headed.”
“Oh,” Tony’s face molds into concern. “Do you need water? To sit down?”
“No, no,” Vision takes a deep breath and straightens his spine. “I’m absolutely fine, I promise.”
Tony eyes him. “If you’re sure.”
“I am,” Vision tilts his head. “Is this all you wanted to see?”
“No,” Tony bites the end of his thumb. “No, I had a friend, I- there he is!” he begins waving frantically at a tall, blond man instructing a group moving chairs around. “Steve!”
The blond man turns and gives them both a megawatt grin. “Tony!” he races over and claps Tony on the back. “How’s it going?”
“Oh, you know,” Tony waves his hand. “Happy to be out of the city.”
“I bet,” Steve nods his head before sticking out a hand to Vision. “Hey, I’m Steve Rogers.”
“Vision Shade,” Vision shakes his hand.
“Oh, you’re Vision!” Steve laughs. “We’ve spoken on the phone.”
Vision narrows his eyes, trying to place the voice.
Steve chuckles at his expression. “It’s fine, man, I know you probably talk to hundreds of people on the phone.”
“Thousands,” Vision agrees ruefully.
“Can we get a tour?” Tony asks.
“It’s not all set up,” Steve hedges.
“Please?” Tony blinks up at Steve with large brown eyes and Vision watches Steve’s hesitation crumble.
“Sure,” Steve says. “Let me just make sure Maria can take over.” He jogs over to a woman with a long brown braid and they converse for a couple of seconds before he bounds over. “Great,” he says brightly. “One tour coming up!”
***
Wanda has to admit, the theater space is beautiful.
Newly renovated, with long caramel-colored walls and thick velvet curtains, the space has an enormous fly system and at least two hundred red seats. The whole place smells like a theater; a bit dusty and earthy, with the underlying smell of sawdust and what Wanda can only categorize as the smell of anticipation.
She drinks it in greedily as Pepper wanders the house, running her fingers across the seats.
“This is gorgeous, Bruce,” she calls as he tinkers around in the light box.
“Isn’t it?” he calls back. “Ah, there it is.”
Wanda has ambled up to the stage, her feet reverent as she makes her way to the center mark, spiked with glow in the dark tape. She gets a feeling when she stands on a stage, a feeling of intense comfort that instantly relaxes her shoulders and unknots the tension in her belly until she feels stripped raw. But not unpleasantly, it’s a delicious vulnerability that she can’t feel in any other place.
Bruce snaps on the stage lights and Wanda feels her whole being light up, for a moment, she doesn’t feel like Wanda Maximoff, the dowdy assistant of the glamourous Pepper Potts, but perhaps someone who contains her own glamour. Her own spark.
She’s also completely blinded by the brightness beaming into her eyes, the first two rows of chairs the only thing she can see in a sea of vast emptiness.
The loud gasp from the back of the theater causes her to jump, her momentary peace shattered. Before she can ask what’s wrong, she hears Pepper Potts screech loud enough to crackle Wanda’s ear drums.
“What the fuck are YOU doing here?”