Girl's Night
Wanda sat in the passenger seat of Nat's sports car; eyes locked on the speedometer as it hit ninety miles per hour. "Should you slow down?"
Nat rolled her eyes from behind the wheel and laid into the accelerator. "You said go faster, right?" The engine roared even louder as she gained speed, earning more than a few honks for her reckless behavior.
Wanda pulled down the visor and checked her makeup in the mirror, admiring the navy-blue eyeshadow Natasha picked out to match her dress. "I feel like I'm going to prom."
"Prom?" Nat asked with a chuckle, expertly weaving around slower cars, which, as the speedometer settled around 100mph, was all of them.
"The American high school dance in all the movies. Is that not what it's called?"
"No, you're right. For what it's worth, I didn't get to go to prom either. But wait till Tony throws his next big party. It's practically the same thing except the nerdy boys asking you to dance are all billionaires."
Wanda fussed with her dress, worried she was headed toward a wardrobe malfunction. She hadn't worn anything this form fitting or revealing in, well, ever. "So, what's the plan? I'm not sure this is the right outfit for finding Y/N."
"The plan," Nat said, peeling off onto the exit, "is we get drinks with Maria."
Wanda watched Nat, confused. "Is she going to help us?"
"Oh, definitely not. Whatever you do, do not mention Y/N to Maria."
Wanda couldn't help the tinge of frustration that seeped into her voice. "Then what are we doing?"
Nat sighed as she navigated the congested Manhattan streets. "You will get drunk. I'll suggest we stay in one of the SHIELD safe house apartments. We'll get a change of clothes, dump our phones, and track Y/N using old SHIELD tech that won't raise any red flags back at the compound."
Wanda stared incredulously at Nat. "Do I have to get drunk?"
"Trust me, I would do it, but Maria wouldn't believe me."
"Can I fake it?"
Nat smirked. "You can try. But if you think I'm good at telling when someone's lying, you haven't met Maria Hill."
"Get out or I'm calling the police!" You wiped your mouth with the cloth napkin and headed towards the door as the man followed you, shooing you into the street with a bussing tray.
Your rumbling stomach and a pilfered fifty-dollar bill from a dorm room desk drawer led you to the nearby Dynasty Chinese Buffet, where you happily stuffed your face for the last three hours. Until they ran out of food. Of all the side effects of a second dose of serum, you hadn't spent much time thinking about your increased calorie needs.
Feeling mostly satiated, you started walking towards Brooklyn. Sure, you could've caught the subway, but you were enjoying being in the city. Everywhere you looked there was something new to see and the hustle and bustle made you feel safer than you had in a long time. You popped in a pair of headphones pocketed from the dorm. Without a phone, they weren't anything but glorified earplugs, which is exactly what you needed to block out the loudest ambient sounds.
Picking up a map from a sightseeing booth, you quickly charted a course to the address Seb had found. You felt foolish; how likely was it that your birth mother was still living there? Still in New York? Wanted to see you? You pushed that last thought out of your mind. Regardless of how silly you felt, you were here, and you had to try.
Nat parked in front of a nondescript brick building just off the meatpacking district and was immediately greeted by a uniformed valet attendant, all too eager to give her tricked out car a spin around the block.
"Don't even think about it," she whispered as she handed over her keys, the attendant deflating as soon as he recognized who she was.
"I would never, Ms. Romanoff," the attendant stammered as Nat smirked, Wanda in toe.
"What is this place?" Wanda asked as they approached the plain front door. To her, it looked about as unwelcoming an entrance as she could think of, and there was no visible signage to indicate it was a bar or business of any kind.
Nat looked into a security camera mounted above the door and a second later the lock clicked open. "Technically, it's called The Black Hole. But regulars just call it The Hole." She pushed open the door and Wanda followed closely behind.
What struck Wanda first was the obvious lack of light. The place really seemed to live up to its name, with only small, eclectic light fixtures every few feet and none on the ceiling. The second thing that surprised her was how small it was. Beyond the bar that ran the length of the room, there were only a few small booths. Everything was cramped, dark, and mysterious.
"Maria's in the back." Nat grabbed Wanda's arm and led her through the single-file aisle. It was still early and there were only a few patrons at the bar. None looked their way and Wanda got the distinct impression it was in her best interest if she didn't look in theirs either.
"Look what the cat dragged in," Maria stood up from the back booth as Nat and Wanda approached, still in the black pantsuit she always wore to the UN.
"Nice to see you too, Hill," Nat said, sliding in on the opposite side and gesturing at Wanda to join her.
Maria took in Nat and Wanda's outfits. "You were serious when you called this a girl's night. I'm sorry I didn't change. The boys driving you that crazy?"
Nat rolled her eyes. "I specifically remember you recruiting me to be an Avenger, not a babysitter."
Maria shifted her gaze to Wanda. "And how are you settling in, Wanda?"
"Fine," Wanda said, unease clearly visible on her face. She glanced up at Nat, gaining a bit more confidence. "Everyone's been really nice to me."
"It helps that Wanda's an excellent cook," Nat added, looking at Maria. "You should come over for dinner some time, help level out the testosterone."
A bartender set three drinks onto their table. Wanda looked at them curiously. Whatever it was, it was deep black and... shimmering? "I don't remember ordering anything."
Maria smirked. "They only make one drink. And you ordered it as soon as you walked through the front door. They'll keep bringing them until you turn your glass upside down."
"This place is big on branding," Natasha added, sipping her drink.
Wanda picked hers up and watched as the shiny black liquid danced in the glass. "What's in it?"
"That's classified," Maria said, so seriously Wanda fully believed her. She took a tentative sip of the drink. She'd drank alcohol before, of course. A little wine here and there, even a shot of vodka now and again while she and Pietro were living on the streets of Sokovia and needed to stay warm. But this was different. It was also... delicious. She did her best to pick out the individual ingredients but as soon as she thought she'd identified one she'd take another sip and doubt herself. Was that chocolate? Or cherry? Before she realized it, she'd finished her drink and was eagerly awaiting another.
You stopped on the Brooklyn Bridge to watch the sunset, easily hiding amidst the influencers and lovesick couples taking selfies as the sun bathed the city in a golden glow. Sunsets always made you nervous; nighttime was when Kilroy usually expected you to pull off whatever half-baked heist or job he'd lined up. But tonight was different; tonight the nerves were entirely your own. You checked your map. You only had a half-mile to go before you reached the apartment that may or may not (but probably not, you reminded yourself) contain your birth mother.
Up ahead, a commotion caught your attention. A person in a dark hoodie darted through the thick crowd, shoving people out of their way indiscriminately.
"Help!" a woman cried. "He stole my backpack."
You rolled your eyes. Next to sneaking in via the fire escape, this was about the most cliche New York City movie moment you could imagine. You watched the woman point frantically in the direction of the thief while the rest of the crowd shook their heads, though it was hard to tell if it was in sympathy or judgment.
You sighed. This was definitely not your problem and the last thing you wanted to do was draw attention to yourself. But as you watched the crowd move on, leaving the helpless woman looking around aimlessly as everyone avoided eye contact, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. Like it or not, you had spent most of your life as the bad guy.
Natasha's promise echoed in your head. From now on, every decision you made would be your own. You sighed again and took off running.
Wanda had just finished her third drink when Maria's phone buzzed. She looked down at it, a bit bleary-eyed herself, and frowned before looking up at Nat. "Does this enhanced person look familiar to you? She isn't coming up in our database."
Wanda blanched at the word "database." As much as she trusted Nat and the Avengers, the idea of being in any kind of "enhanced database" made her skin crawl.
Nat watched the video on Maria's phone. It was shaky, but as soon as the figure took off running, Nat knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was you. She pretended to study the video a few more moments before handing the device back to Maria.
"No," Nat shook her head, casually sipping her drink. "Doesn't look like anyone on our radar either. What happened?"
Maria read from her phone. "Apparently whoever it was apprehended a thief who stole a backpack on the Brooklyn Bridge. Local news is calling them a hero but they fled the scene before police or reporters could get their name or a good look at their face."
"Seems like someone who wants to stay under the radar," Wanda chimed in.
"That may be so," Maria sighed, "but people are scared of what they don't understand, what they can't quantify. Hero or not, all people see are differences. We have a team tracking them now."
“What?" It was out of Wanda's mouth before she could stop herself and Nat quickly placed a hand on Wanda's arm.
"Call them off, Maria," Nat said, deadly serious.
"Why?" Maria asked, matching Natasha's tone.
"Because I don't want your people getting hurt."
Maria smirked, "So you do know who this is."
"Call. Them. Off."
Unruffled by Natasha's intensity, Maria placed a call. "This is Hill," she said, not even waiting for a hello, "stand down your search."
Evidently the person on the other end questioned Maria's judgment because the next words out of her mouth were, "I don't care what Fury says, that's an order. Tell him I'm taking over. Send me the address."
Maria hung up and looked down at her phone, pulling up a GPS. "They tracked the enhanced individual––"
"Her name's Y/N," Wanda said, cutting Maria off and earning her impressed looks from both Maria and Nat.
Maria started again. "They tracked Y/N to an apartment building in Brooklyn. 1569 Chester Street."
Nat turned to Wanda; her gaze intense. "Wanda, what was the name of Y/N's birth mother?"
"Lydia," Wanda replied, struggling to keep up as the alcohol finally hit her system.
"Shit," Nat whispered, looking at Maria. "I know what happened to Y/N's birth mother."
"What?" Maria asked, dread already sinking in.
Nat took a deep breath. "I killed her."
"So much for girl's night," Maria huffed.