Chapter 9
It was unbelievable how bored someone could get but still be unable to do anything. Wanda had tried to read an history book that Steve had lent her, she still remembered his words, “always good to know what happened in the country you live in”. His physical appearance made him look like he was in his late twenties but the way he sometimes thought betrayed his true age. For a short moment, she contemplated the idea of talking to the old man but she couldn't. What would she say ? He was nice ; however, he didn't seem like he would be good in this kind of conversation.
She simply didn't have the necessary motivation to ask for help, she felt lazy, and numb. It was the worst part, everything felt blurry and distant. And at some point, a body containing an aching soul couldn't keep on sleeping, to her great displeasure. When hunger started to kick back in, Wanda heard another knock on her door. She was popular, today. She waited for the person to announce themselves as she built a believable lie to justify her hermit state. “Is now the right time ?” Natasha questioned in a teasing tone. Wanda felt a smile in her voice, or maybe she just hoped for one.
“Come in,” she replied after very quickly hiding her litter and making her bed. She was aware Natasha would probably know that she was attempting to clean everything in a hurry but she didn't care. It made her feel embarrassed to have company in an overly untidied room.
The Russian woman walked in, looking around while slightly smiling. Wanda noticed how easier it was to admire Natasha when she wasn't trying to punch her, she felt privileged. “I brought you cookies,” she declared, displaying another playful smile.
Wanda sensed her heart weaken from the attention, she had never eaten cookies, despite their astonishing reputation. “You baked ?” she asked, not hiding her surprise. She shortly realised it might be rude to show a huge amount of shock for something so simple, but she believed the spy couldn't cook. There was something quite amusing about imagining Natasha in a kitchen, with an apron.
“No, I didn't. I went to the best bakery of the city,” Natasha asserted with confidence, glad that no one else was around to disagree with her. Tony didn't know how to appreciate good things, and Steve preferred to eat food that he had prepared, the old school way.
Natasha then took a bite of a cookie, it truly tasted better than any other cookies she had tasted in her life. As soon as she saw the expression of surprise on Wanda's face, she added, “What ? You really thought I'd allow you to eat everything ?”. She felt relieved to hear the Sokovian let out a light laughter, it felt nice, nicer that she thought it would be.
Afterwards, the redhead sat down on a carpet that looked comfortable enough without asking for permission, and Wanda followed, not really sure of what to do. The skillful spy promptly noticed it and spoke out again, “So, want to talk about it ?” she gently interrogated as she held out the smallest cookie she had bought – she wouldn't be that nice.
The sweet attention warmed Wanda's whole body, or maybe it was because of how close Natasha's hand was to her own. She accepted the cookie, letting her senses get lost on the way the Russian's fingers had softly brushed against her index. Did Natasha do that on purpose ? She couldn't tell, the red-haired woman didn't permit her to ; she didn't seem flustered, though. But as Wanda attempted to read the spy's emotions without crossing any significant boundery, she felt Natasha's heartbeat, it was incredibly irregular for someone usually so steady.
Wanda realised that she had been quiet, thereby not replying to Natasha's question. She searched for the words she would articulate, while the spy patiently waited in a perfect silence. When she sensed Natasha's green eyes on her, the witch felt unsettled. “It's... uh, complicated,” she finally said. She thought the other woman would fill up the blank, but she didn't. Natasha kept eating her cookie whilst occasionally looking up in order to stare at Wanda, almost as if she was seeking for the buried truth on her face. It felt intense, but somehow comforting, there were no expectations. “I guess today and yesterday are just one of those days.”
Natasha nodded, displaying her understanding. “Have you found ways to feel a bit better ?” she asked, her face seeming very serious, almost as if she cared. “Yes, of course. I definitely look like I'm coping properly,” Wanda responded, an ounce of sarcasm in her voice. She didn't mean to sound disagreable, it wasn't personal : she would have answered the same thing if Pietro had been the one asking.
The redhead softly laughed, truly amused by Wanda's remark. “Well, we all have something that makes us feel better but everyone is different, so I don't know what could help you.”
Wanda repressed another snooty retort and went for a question that would lead to a more interesting and constructive conversation, for once. “What do you do on a bad day ?” She had rarely talked with Natasha about important topics, they always ended up teasing nay pissing off each other, although she wouldn't complain.
“I try to occupy my mind, I work out a lot, mostly,” she casually replied. She couldn't show that she was scared their discussion would get too intimate. Being overly private remained a big personality trait of hers, and it was for a good reason.
“I don't think this is for me,” Wanga began while absentmindly fiddling with her rings, it had become an habit. “I don't want to have your biceps,” she asserted with a playful grin. As soon as she witnessed Natasha's offended reaction, the witch added, “Don't get me wrong, they look great on you. But it's just not my thing, doing sports doesn't lift up my spirit.”
Deciding to ignore the swift compliment but definitely not repressing a smile, the spy replied “If you keep training like this, on your good days, you're gonna gain muscles. That's for sure.” Her words were meant to be encouraging : even if Wanda skipped some sparring sessions, she would still improve her hand to hand combat skills.
“Maybe I should miss more of our training sessions, then,” Wanda answered in a lower voice, something burning and teasing in her stare. Natasha couldn't keep her eyes off of her, what was happening ? Her buzzing phone interrupted their moment of strange complicity. She had received a text from Maria Hill. “Hill, Sam, and I are going to the movies to see a stupid action movie. Wanna come ?”
Wanda was caught off guard, she hadn't prepared herself to go out. “Steve isn't coming with you ?” she asked, surprised that he was excluded from their plan.
The Russian rose from her feet, before she went out of the room, silently ordering the other woman to do the same, which she did, without even thinking. It was hard not to follow Natasha wherever she went, as ridiculous as it sounded. She had a presence. “Actually, it was supposed to be just Hill and me, but she lost a bet. So Sam... is going with us,” she sighed dramatically, since Sam was chatting with someone else not far away. She suspected he had heard her when he walked closer to them, along with Maria.
“Oh, I didn't know you and Agent Hill were close,” Wanda admitted. She had seen the redhead talking to the SHIELD agent, a few times, but assumed their relationship remained solely professional.
“We're friends,” she replied, slowly corrected by a smiling Maria, “Best friends, as a matter of fact.” Her sentence caused Natasha to roll her eyes, but she liked it, even if most people wouldn't agree with the title of best friends, considering what they had done together. “Anyway, you can join us, Maximoff. This time, your life won’t feel threatened,” she teased, her mind thinking back about the way Wanda had held her.
“That's an inside joke I don't understand !” Sam lightly complained. He didn't like to feel left out, which was why he could sometimes appear a bit clingy.
After Wanda picked up clean clothes to wear in public, they drove to the cinema in Natasha's car who was of course driving. The Sokovian was seated behind Maria, whereas Sam was in the middle, so that he could be in charge of the music. It – and Sam as well – was very loud, but it felt good. Wanda felt included, she kept making fun of Sam's awful singing, as Natasha occasionally gazed at her through the rear mirror. She wanted to be sure the witch was having a great time, there was no fun in driving mad someone who was feeling low-headed, after all. It wasn't a fair fight, she was helping her for this unique reason, of course.
As they all headed toward the theater, Maria and Natasha leading the way, Sam walked closer to hear to ask her something that hadn't left his mind since the drive, “So, I won a bet to be here. What did you do ? Did you give her money ? Oh no, don't tell me you have enchanted her or something...” He seemed genuinely worried, he had always considered the spy to be very scary. Sam was very careful about not pulling pranks on her, yet, at least.
“No,” she laughed a bit, amused by his reaction, “She just suggested that I'd come. I didn't do anything.” When she witnessed his eyebrow raising as a sign of disbelief, she added, “Really, Sam ! She brought me cookies, we talked a while, and she offered me to join you when she got a text.”
“Interesting...” he responded, displaying an amusing suspicious expression. “Well, good for you. It's pretty hard to get Natasha to like you. Sometimes, I feel like she wants to kill me,” he admitted, stealing another laughter from Wanda.
His words kept being replayed in her mind, Natasha didn't hate her, even more, Natasha liked her. She tried not to think about this possibility too much, and focused on how light-hearted she was feeling, during this evening. The movie sucked, but she wouldn't forget when Sam almost sobbed as the two main characters kissed, nor when her hands brushed against Natasha's while she tried to grab some popcorn, causing the spy to let out an almost inaudible gasp.