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Chapter Text

You could feel the glare of the Sokovian witch through the observation glass, sweat beading along your upper lip as your forceps prod at the hole in the assassin's stomach, waiting for the clink of once sterilized, now bloodied steel against the bullet that now threatened one of the greatest assets to The Avengers.

“Vitals?” You call out, your focus once again on the injury once they're confirmed to be stable. You wipe at the blood the begins to pool on her stomach, not minding the smear as you work your instrument deeper until you feel the foreign object, the quirk of your lips hidden by your mask. As you gently pull it out you’re reminded of the children’s game, where a shaky hand would lead to a loud buzzer and a flash of a red nose installed on a cardboard patient. You nearly laugh at the thought of how simple it was; how simple you wish that your job was.

You sigh as the bullet clicks on the metal tray beside you, nodding at the nurse to begin cleaning the woman’s body before she would be taken to Doctor Cho for further treatment. As they take over, you step outside of the operation room, immediately removing your scrubs and washing your hands diligently.

“Will she be okay?” You jump, cursing as some water splashes over the sink before turning it off, drying your arms as you look over.

“Only medical personnel is supposed to be in here, Miss Maximoff.” Her eyes glow for a moment before she quickly shakes her head, seeming to scold herself at her reaction. You purse your lips, sighing as you lean against the counter. “But she’ll be fine. Once Doctor Cho sees her, it’ll be like she was never shot in the first place.” Wanda nods, though the aggravation she first showed turned to worry. You step around her, opening the door and waiting for her to follow. As she does she stumbles, your reflexes acting quickly as you catch her.

“Sorry,” she mutters as she stands back up, though you don’t let her go as you watch her sway slightly. Your brows furrow as she ducks her head.

“Wanda, when’s the last time you ate?” She remains silent, which is as much of an answer as you need. You gently pull on her arm, and she looks up at you with trepidation. You repeat the action, your movements soft though your face stern, and after a moment she reluctantly follows you. You pull her to the medical staffs’ lounge, pulling out your lunch from the fridge as well as trail mix from the congressional snacks before walking back, handing her half of her sandwich.

“What is this?” You look up mid-bite, trying not to think too much about how cute her confused look and head-tilt are. “This… white spreading?”

“It’s marshmallow fluff.” Her expression is perplexed as she looks at you, and you can’t help but grin. “It’s a fluffernutter sandwich. You know, peanut butter and marshmallow fluff.”

“Fluffer… nutter?” You nod, taking a bite with a hum. She looks down at it, biting her bottom lip as she contemplates trying it. “Go on, it won’t bite back.” She looks back up with distrust in her eyes before taking a small bite, chewing slowly. You slow your chewing as well, suddenly nervous to hear her response.

“It’s… odd…” You snort as she takes another bite, though this one larger.

“But it’s good?” She hesitates before giving a small nod, your smile lighting up your face. “See, no one can resist a fluffernutter.” A huff from Wanda made your smile widen before a silence took over, the two of you finishing your halves of the sandwich. You pass her the trail mix, ignoring how she shifts in her seat until she takes a deep breath.

“Two days.” Her hands pick at the flimsy plastic bag, not looking up at you. “We tried to abandon the mission as soon as Natasha was hurt, but they destroyed the quinjet. We had to hide until the second team could come, and the entire time I used my power to make sure she wouldn’t…” Her eyes glaze over as she looks at the wall behind you, and you didn’t push her to talk. Instead you stood, going back to the fridge and pulling out another paper bag, placing it in front of her. She looks between it and you, and you give a small smile.

“I always pack a second, in case I need to stay an extra shift.” As she opens her mouth to speak your pager goes off, and you check it to see that you were needed in the operating room again. “Shit, I need to get going. I’ll see you around?” Wanda nods, though you can’t help but worry at her blank face as she looks down at the table. You gently place a hand on her shoulder, and she turns to look at you.

“She’ll be fine, Wanda.” She nods again, this time her face relaxing slightly. You give her shoulder a squeeze before rushing off, shivering at the feeling of her eyes on you.

-

-

At the end of your next shift you finish writing an operative report, triple checking your spelling and grammar as you know your exhausted mind tended to be lenient on the rules of the English language. You let out a heavy sigh as you save it to the system, leaning back in your chair and resting your eyes, enjoying the quiet until it’s broken by the sound of the door opening. You quickly spin around, relaxing when you see Wanda instead of a superior.

“Did you get some rest?” You ask, and she tilts her head at you.

“That’s the first question you ask?” She walks over quietly, tentatively sitting beside you and letting the chair swivel under her feet.

“The last few days have been stressful for you. I just want to make sure you’re not exhausting yourself.” She looks downs, shrugging as she plays with her fingers. You hum, glancing back at your computer and quickly shutting it down, the office going dark once the bright light of the screen went off. You turn back, waiting patiently for her to speak as she bites her bottom lip.

“Not really,” she whispers, and you nod, standing and holding out a hand. She stares at it, apprehension written all over her face, but just before you pull away she takes it, standing and holding onto you with a grip that almost makes you wince.

“Was there a reason you couldn’t sleep?” You ask after walking a few hallways in silence, and she instinctively steps closer to you as you pass by some of your colleagues, who you greet with a smile despite their confusion of you walking hand-in-hand with an Avenger.

“She wasn’t there,” she murmurs low enough for only you to hear, “she wasn’t in our room. In our bed.”

“She’s still recovering, Wanda. Skin is easier to regenerate than muscle and fat.” Despite your explanation you can see the beginnings of a panic attack, and you suck your lips in, looking around to see that the hallway is empty before turning down the opposite way of the elevator, towards the patients’ rooms.

“Where…” You feel her hesitate before she realizes what you were doing, and nearly drags you rather than the other way around. You two make your way to the classified section of the wing, and you quickly let yourselves in, watching as Wanda rushes to the room labeled Romanoff and swings open the door. You walk slowly, hearing their hushed whispers and not wanting to interrupt their reunion, rather pretending to find the plain wallpaper far more interesting than it is. You make your way to a chair several doors down, about to sit when Wanda pokes her head out the door. It’s obvious how much stress has been relieved when looking at her after only moments of being with the Black Widow, making your dread of meeting with your superiors tomorrow slightly more bearable.

“Is she coming in or not?” You both turn towards the source of the sound, Wanda giving a small smirk to the person you couldn’t see before turning back to you, tilting her head. You blink several times before clearing your throat, shaking your head.

“I’m not supposed to be visiting any patients in recovery, my assignments are exclusively to execute emergency surgeries.” A scoff comes from the room as Wanda looks up at you through her lashes, smiling innocently.

“But aren’t you off the clock?” You raise a brow as she tilts her head, a mischievous gleam in her eye. “And we’re not supposed to be down here at all, are we? What’s wrong with breaking the rules a little more?” You roll your eyes at that before making your way towards her, immediately forgetting about the consequences you could face when her face lights up. She turns back into the room, and once you get to the door you only peek in at first, unsure as to why your chest is fluttering nervously.

“You can come in,” an American accent calls, and you take a step through the threshold, both of the women giving you an amused look. “We aren’t going to hurt the person who helped save my life.” You nod, leaning on the doorway and eyes flicking down to where Wanda’s hand is covering Natasha’s.

“I feel like I’m interrupting a personal moment,” you say while toeing at the floor, looking away from them. You hear one of them click their tongue and a shift on the cot, ignoring the footsteps as long as possible until Wanda stands in front of you, arms crossed.

“You saved her life and introduced me to the fluffernutter. You’re welcome here.” Her arms uncross and she takes your hand, pulling you towards Natasha who gives an amused hum.

“We would’ve been fine with you being here before as well,” the red head says, and one of her brows goes up when yours furrow. “Oh Wanda, I think she might be a little dense.”

“There weren’t a lot of chances to talk to her, detka,” she says as she sneaks her arms around your waist, resting her chin on your shoulder. “Always so busy, but somehow always so cute despite such a tiring workload.” You feel heat rise to your cheeks at her words, and she giggles at your flustered state. Natasha smirks as well, resting back onto her half-reclined bed.

“When’s your next off day?” She says suddenly, and when you reply with tomorrow, she gives a wide smile. “Be back at the compound at noon, in something casual. As good as you make scrubs look, I’d much rather see you in something else.” You nod, lost for words as Wanda reluctantly pulls back, though one hand trails over your back as she goes to sit by Natasha again.

“I’ll leave you two to it then,” you say after clearing your throat, turning quickly on your heel and walking out, questioning what had just happened. Did you seriously just get asked on a date with Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff?

“Wanda?” You trip when you hear Natasha’s voice, slightly muffled now that you were down the hallway. “What the hell is a fluffernutter?” Your lips slowly curl to a smile as you make a mental note to pack three for tomorrow, the stares your coworkers giving you at your elated state not bothering you as you daydream about tomorrow.

Chapter Text

You groan into your hands, sitting on the edge of your bed in the fourth outfit that you’ve tried on that morning. The other three sit precariously on the edge of your mattress, varying from a pair of sweats to a navy two piece.

“Okay, but what exactly does casual mean? I have a nice skirt…” You walk over to your closet before pausing, sighing as you turn back around. “No, what if that’s too formal? What about some joggers? Joggers are causal, right?” A groan comes from your laptop, and you look over to see your best friend rolling their eyes.

“Why can’t you just wear what you have on now?” You look down again at your outfit, the skinny jeans being a pair you wore out on a regular basis while the button up you had only worn once to another friend’s birthday party. “It looks cute, just wear some boots and throw on a nice coat and you’ll be fine.”

“But what if they don’t like it?” They groan again, flopping dramatically back onto their chair and throwing their hands in the air. “No, I’m serious! I’d like to make a good impression!”

“You literally saved one of their lives! That’s like, one of the best impressions that you can make!” You huff, crossing your arms as they look back at the screen. “What time did you say you needed to go?” Your eyes flick to the corner of your screen as well before you gasp, shooting out of your seat and grabbing a pair of boots like they suggested.

“Two minutes ago!” You hop over as you pull one on, catching yourself on your desk and reaching for your computer mouse, blushing as they burst out into laughter. “Shut up! I’ll call you after!”

“Your gay panic is show-!” You close out of the window before they can finish, not bothering to shut down the computer as you pull on the second boot and rush through your small apartment. Quickly pulling your favorite coat on and throwing your phone and keys into a small purse, you place your hand on the doorknob before pausing, swearing that you were forgetting something. But with time not on your side, you just hope that whatever it is isn’t important, and make your way to the compound.

-

-

As you wait outside of the doors, you keep digging through your purse trying to remember whatever you were forgetting. It didn’t make sense to need anything other than what you brought, as you wouldn’t need to need you identification card. Maybe it was that this purse was much smaller than the one you usually brought when you worked, and the lack of weight was throwing you off? You shake your head with a huff, tugging at the end of your coat when you hear the doors slide open.

“I knew you’d look better out of scrubs,” Natasha says, eyes roaming over you shamelessly. Your cheeks immediately heat up as she steps towards you, her chuckle making you burn up even more. “Wanda got assigned to an emergency mission, but she should be back soon if you’d like to come in?” Your brows furrow as your back straightens, eyes flicking to where you had just performed surgery on Natasha.

“Will she be okay? I mean, how dangerous is the mission?” You look down to where Natasha cups your elbow, pulling you inside with a small smile.

“It’s fairly simple. She’ll be back soon enough, and she won’t be coming in on a stretcher like I did.” Your shoulders relax slightly as you two make your way towards the living area for The Avenger and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, the foot traffic dying significantly once the assassin keys in a code and walks you into the living room generally seen only by The Avengers.

“I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t be here,” you mumble, and she laughs, her hand sliding down until her fingers interlock with yours. Amused green eyes look back at you, her little smirk making your heart flutter.

“I assure you, if you weren’t welcome here, you wouldn’t be here.” There’s confidence in her voice, though the tilt of her eyebrow lets you know that she was merely bantering with you. You roll your eyes in response, and she gives a hum as she pulls you farther into the room. “Here, we can wait in the living area. We can watch some T.V. on the projector.”

“No you can’t!” You jump, turning quickly as heavy footsteps enter the room. Your eyes widen as Tony Stark makes his way in, though he doesn’t seem to notice you at all, instead making his way directly to where you two were headed. Natasha sighs, throwing you a smirk over a shoulder before leading you in as well.

“And why would that be?” She asks, her voice suddenly having an edge to it. She takes you to sit on a couch, walking towards him once you were. “Did someone break it again?”

“No,” he snarks, tapping a finger impatiently as the coffee machine fills the pot. “New rule, effective immediately. Stop using my technology for mundane matters such as watching television.” She leans on the counter next to him, head tilted and innocent smile on her face.

“Tony, do you remember when somebody broke Pepper’s vase that she got for Mothers’ Day?” Tony freezes, the only sound being the coffee trickling into the pot. “It’d be a shame if she found out how that happened, don’t you think?”

“Fine!” He relents, picking up the coffee pot and turning. “For one hour!”

“For the night,” Natasha calls, grinning at his groan and reluctant acceptance as she walks back to you. “So, anything you’d like to watch while we wait?”

It doesn’t take long for you two to find something, seeing as you had unlimited options since Tony had access to every streaming service known to man and some extraterrestrial lifeforms. You both lean back, Natasha’s arm immediately reaching over your shoulders and relaxing on the back of the couch. The crime drama intro finishes and two detectives step onto a crime scene, and you couldn’t help but immediately roll your eyes already at their imitation of vital organs that are poorly strewn across the ground.

“Something wrong?” You shake your head, looking over at her with a raised eyebrow.

“For one thing, the heart has no aorta.” She looks up, snorting at the missing detail once you point it out. “And you shouldn’t be able to see the lungs directly behind the ribcage. If that were the case, then this wouldn’t be a murder mystery as much as a medical anomaly. No wonder he’s dead.”

“Just wait until they get to the action scenes,” she says, nodding to the screen. “I swear, half of the actors have never had a course in basic gun safety. And don’t get me started on the exaggeration of the recoil, their wrists would break in half if they ever tried to shoot a real one.” You giggle, leaning closer towards her as you turn back to the screen, both of you giggling at the inaccuracies of the show as it continues. Two episodes in, the door to the lounge opens and you sit up straighter as three Avengers walk in. Steve and Clint walk in talking happily, but behind them walks Wanda, whose shoulders are slumped from exhaustion.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., pause the episode,” Natasha says as you both stand, Natasha taking the lead as you make your way towards her. As soon as she’s within reach Wanda falls into Natasha’s arms, humming sleepily as hers wrap around the Widow’s neck. “Barton, why is Wanda exhausted while you two seem to be perfectly fine?” Clint pauses at the edge in Natasha’s voice, turning slowly as Steve tries to stealthily make his way out of the room.

“The mission went a little… sideways.” His eyes flick around the room, anywhere except towards Natasha’s impassive face yet dangerous stance. “A building was about to collapse on a group of civilians, and Wanda had to hold it up while Steve and I fought off Hydra agents.”

“How long did she have to use her powers?” Clint clears his throat, and you walk forwards, pulling Wanda from Natasha’s arms and helping walk her to the kitchen area.

“Ten?” Natasha grits her teeth, eyebrow raised.

“Ten what, Clint?” He begins to back away as she steps towards him, eyeing the door closest to him.

“Maybe twenty?” He bolts as soon as he says the last syllable, Natasha clearly struggling to decide whether to go after him or stay. She chooses the latter, instead rubbing her temples as she walks over to the stool where you had sat her.

“Despicable,” she murmurs, and you look up to see her gaze soften when she cups her girlfriend’s cheek. “Dorogaya, is there anything I can get for you?” Wanda nods her head, mumbling incoherently as she leans into her side. “I couldn’t quite catch that, can you say it again?”

“Fluffernutter,” she mumbles, and the memory of you putting the three sandwiches in your fridge the night before returns to your mind.

“Shit.” The two look at you, though Wanda’s gaze is less focused. “I meant to bring a few with me, I completely forgot them.” Natasha gives a small smirk, her hand rubbing soothing circles on Wanda’s back as she shakes her head.

“You know, she didn’t stop talking about those things all night.” You look away sheepishly as Wanda giggles, her clammy hand taking one of yours. You look down at her with concern, pressing your other hand on her forehead with your eyebrows drawn.

“You really need to eat, Wanda,” you say, and she hums in agreement, Natasha pulling away from the two of you and walking towards the cabinets.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., do we have the ingredients for a…” she looks back at you, squinting her eyes, “fluffernutter?" You nod with a smile, and she rolls her eyes as F.R.I.D.A.Y. confirms that they do, directing Natasha to the cabinets holding them. “That’s such a ridiculous name.”

“Natasha, never insult the fluffernutter nor its name in my presence again,” you say in a playful tone, Wanda giggles filling the air again as Natasha raises an eyebrow, her lips turning upwards just slightly.

“If they’re as good as Wanda says they are, then I’ll consider respecting them.” You huff, making both of them laugh as Natasha walks over to you, pulling you to the counter with the ingredients. “Alright, show me how it’s done.”

“You ever make a peanut butter jelly sandwich?” She looks over at you, a confident gleam in her eye.

“I can make a mean peanut butter jelly sandwich.”

“That’s the only thing she can make,” you hear behind you, and Natasha scoffs, looking over her shoulder.

“You’ll be paying for that later,” she promises, winking at you before turning back and spreading peanut butter on the bread. You clear your throat, your skin once again burning as you do the same before opening the marshmallow fluff, taking a healthy scoop of it before spreading it on the bread. Natasha does the same, but you narrow your eyes at how little she used.

“You need to put a cavity-inducing amount on that,” you saying, pointing towards hers. She gives you a baffled look, pointing towards yours.

“How are you supposed to taste anything but the marshmallow with that?” You grin, taking another serving of the fluff and putting it onto, laughing at her look of disbelief.

“It’s the magic of the fluffernutter. Now come on, that amount is just plain offensive.”

-

-

You and Wanda both stare at Natasha as she holds onto the sandwich with both hands, seemingly studying it. She glances up at the two of you, apprehension written on your face while you can feel both excited and nervous energy within you. She sighs, rolling her eyes and lifting it quickly, taking a bite and closing her eyes as she chewed, the tense atmosphere palpable.

“It’s very… sweet,” she finally says after swallowing, licking her lips as she makes sense of the flavors. She glances between you and Wanda before sighing, nodding her head. “Fine, it’s good.”

“Yes!” You throw your hands up in the air, the two others chuckling at your dramatics, “No one can resist a fluffernutter!”

“But…” You freeze, eyes wide as you look at Natasha, “…I have no clue how you could eat these every day." You gasp in faux offense, and she shrugs her shoulders. “Like I said, they’re so sweet. I couldn’t imagine eating more than one a month without getting a stomachache.” You shrug with a grin, taking a large bite out of yours a chewing happily. You look over at Wanda, surprised to see she had already finished hers, her gaze focused on you.

“You got some marshmallow on you,” she says, pointing at her bottom lip. You go to wipe it, but her hand takes your wrist, and you give her a confused look until she leans in closer, biting her own lip. “I can clean it up for you, if you’d like?” Your breath stutters as you feel her warm breath intermingling with yours, close enough for you to close the distance but far enough for you to pull back. You glance at Natasha, who watches the two of you curiously, and she nods with a small smile when she notices you looking at her. Your gaze returns to Wanda, who watches you intently, and when you nod she moves forwards, her soft lips pressing tentatively against yours. Her nose bumps into yours as she tilts her head, leading to a giggle from the both of you until her lips slide against yours once again, gently sucking in your bottom lip and making you whimper. She hums happily at the reaction but pulls away, and when you open your eyes she’s still biting her lips, her face now red from a blush rather than flushed from exertion.

"I think you got it," Natasha says, and you look over to see her leaning over to counter and smirking at the two of you. You look at her confused, and she laughs, picking up the rest of her sandwich and eating it in one bite. “And now that Wanda finally built up the courage to kiss you,” She glances as her after swallowing, Wanda looking away and somehow turning redder than Natasha’s hair, “would it be okay if I did so as well?”

She walks around the counter, amusement clear on her face at your flustered state, but as soon as you nod she takes hold of your hips, spinning you and stepping between your legs where you were sitting. As she leans in one hand makes its way to the back of your neck, pulling you in to meet her in the middle. Where Wanda’s kiss was curious and soft, Natasha’s was self-assured as she immediately takes the lead and steals your breath, the feeling only intensifying when you feel another pair of hands on your back, trailing upwards and massaging your shoulders.

“So greedy, Wanda,” Natasha breathes out as she pulls back, her hand moving from the back of your neck to cup your cheek. “Are you okay, dorogaya?”

“Never better,” you say breathlessly, and with a smile Natasha leans back in.

“Romanoff! Maximoff! In the conference room, now!” Wanda groans from behind you, her head resting on the middle on your back as Natasha glares at Steve, whose footsteps quickly become quieter before the door shuts.

“It’s alright,” you say, shaking your head to try to clear your thoughts, “I need to run some errands anyways.” Natasha sighs before walking back to the couch you were sitting on, bringing back your purse and pulling out your phone.

“Here, let me put my number in so we can plan an actual date. Where we won’t keep getting interrupted,” she glares back at the closed door, and Wanda walks over to her, rubbing her arm to calm her down. You type in the number she gives you, and before she leaves she takes your chin in her hand. “Until next time?”

“I’ll be sure to text you.” She smirks, leaning forwards and giving you a short but just as passionate kiss, stepping aside so Wanda could do the same.

“Be sure to bring more of those sandwiches,” she whispers in your ear before pulling back, giving you a playful smile and wave before following Natasha, and you couldn’t help but sit there, hoping the tingling feeling on your lips never faded.

Chapter Text

Your week is filled with reviewing imaging tests, spending hours in the operating room, and writing report after report for your higher ups. You were, to put it simply, utterly exhausted, but you found a reprieve in the group chat that Natasha had made between you, Wanda and herself. The moments where you found peace between surgeries were always on your phone, smiling as they carried on conversations as if you hadn’t spent the last six hours trying to save a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent after they suffered from a collapsed lung.

“Doctor!” You quickly pocket your phone, turning to the nurse who was running towards you. “We have an epidural hematoma due to due a blunt force trauma, you’re needed in the O.R. immediately.” You immediately follow her, grabbing your personal protective equipment the second you get into the preparation room. There’s loud shouting from the other room, the machines beeping erratically telling you that the patient was crashing. You push your way into the room, the others making way as you observe your surroundings.

“Let’s stabilize him quickly, then begin a craniotomy. Someone bring me the CT scan that shows the location of the bleed.” As nurses and anesthesiologists rush around you, this time much quieter, you examine the tablet that is held in front of you, scalpel in hand, and place it on the agent’s scalp, applying pressure as you plan how you’ll approach the surgery.

-

-

You sigh as you sit back, eyes glancing over the report that you had just finished on the patient with the traumatic brain injury. You can feel the drowsiness taking over now that your last task of the day is officially over and the surgeons scheduled to relieve you are now able to handle everything on their own, not even the bright blue light of the screen able to stave off your grogginess. You glance at the clock as you hit send on the report, groaning when you realize that you had worked eight hours over your scheduled shift, all because of a surprise attack that had occurred when S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were scoping out a factory that they had presumed was abandoned by Hydra. Despite your heavy eyelids that were threatening to drop you stand, stumbling your way to the parking structure. You try to focus on the footsteps around you, letting the loud slap of tennis shoes on linoleum keep you as awake as possible, but don’t realize that one set that seemed to be hurried were getting louder until you felt a hand on your arm.

“Easy dorogaya,” Natasha says when you turn quickly, her eyes scanning over you quickly as she frowned. “How long have you been awake?”

“I think, uhm…” You look down at your watch, but the numbers become fuzzy and you decide to just shrug instead. “There was an emergency that came up. A few actually.” Natasha nods, sighing through her nose.

“I know, I’m about to head out to deal with that issue. But you,” she takes the keys out of your hand before you have a chance to pull them back, “are in no condition to be driving.” You roll your eyes, but it’s the only resistance you give, as you’re too exhausted to fight anymore. The teasing smirk she gave when she took them from your hand dropped, her brows furrowed as she took in your state again, putting an arm around you and turning you back towards their living quarters. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you call Wanda down here?” She puts one of your arms over her shoulders as F.R.I.D.A.Y. confirms that Wanda was on the way, helping you keep your balance until a door at the end of the doorway crashes open.

“What happened?” Wanda’s eyes are wild as they scan over you, panic setting in until Natasha shushes her, gesturing for her to take you.

“She got overworked, and is in no condition to drive.” You scoff, though behind your drooping eyelids you don’t notice her raised eyebrow.

“I’m fine,” you mutter, leaning heavily against Wanda once you’re shifted to her, “I just need a coffee.” Silence fills the air for a moment, and when you glance over you can see both of their eyes are red before they both blink, Wanda nodding before looking over at you with a sweet smile.

“Why don’t we get you to our bedroom, and I’ll grab you something to drink there?” You nod drowsily, and Natasha leans in to kiss Wanda before surprising you with a kiss to your temple, turning and taking off to the quinjet hangar. A hand on the small of your back guides you away, Wanda’s magic opening any doors that were in your way. She doesn’t speak as she holds you up in the elevator, only slowing as you two reach an unmarked door.

“Through here, detka,” she says quietly, walking backwards with her hands on your hips as she guides you to a massive bed. “Have a seat, and I’ll bring you a drink.” You nod, doing as she says without resistance, but the moment you feel the softness of the mattress you can’t help but relax even more, laying back with a sigh. The last things you remember are the feelings of your shoes being removed, a kiss on your forehead, and quiet voices coming from a television in the room before you fully sink into unconsciousness.

-

-

When the sun woke you up rather than your alarm, you sit up with a panic. It only increases when you don’t see your alarm clock on your side table, or even your side table for that matter. You nearly jump out of your skin when something brushes your hand, swallowing hard when you see Natasha leaning over a still-asleep Wanda with concern in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you immediately whisper, and Natasha shakes her head, sitting up and stretching her arms over her head. The sleeves of her over-sized tee shirt fall down, letting you see the entirety of her toned arms, and you look away as heat rises to your cheeks. A chuckle lets you know that she notices your flustered state, and quiet footsteps pad around the bed, her sitting on the side next to you. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Neither of us had a problem with you staying over,” she interrupts, laying her hand on top of yours this time. “And you would’ve been a hazard on the road. Really, we were just looking out for the citizens.” You bump your shoulder into hers playfully as she grins at you, leaning into her touch when she pushes a strand of hair away from your face. “Now, what to do today?”

“I’ve got…” You look down at your watch, cursing quietly as you stand up, “…work. I’m late for work, I need to go!”

“You’ve had a schedule change.” You look at her, brows furrowed as she crosses her legs, leaning back on her hands. “I spoke to Agent Hill, and she agreed that you needed a break after tending to so many agents yesterday.” Your jaw drops, shaking your head as you start to argue but stop when she clicks her tongue. “Most of the agents will be on base today anyways. After the shit show that was yesterday, Fury decided that we needed to gather more intelligence on the locations of Hydra bases rather than rush in. The surgeons working today will be fine on their own.”

“…So we can do anything today?” Natasha hums, giving a hum and smirk as you bite your bottom lip, trying to think. “What about a date? Outside of the compound?”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” her teeth flash as she leans forwards, elbows on her knees. “Where would you like to go?”

“A cafe.” You both look at where the groggy voice came from, Wanda rolling over onto her side with a sigh. “I need coffee.” You can’t help but giggle at her antics, earning a warm smile from her before her eyes shut again.

“A coffee date it is then.” Natasha stands, walking over to the dresser. “If you want you can drop by your place to change, and we can pick you up from there? As soon as someone,” she shoots a glare at Wanda, who whines at her, “decides to get up.” She pulls your keys out from the dresser she was standing in front of, handing them over to you.

“That sounds perfect.” You nod, letting yourself out, but not before you glance over to see Natasha pick Wanda out of bed, Wanda complaining as she tucks her head into Natasha’s neck. You smile at their dynamic, closing the door quietly as you leave.

-

-

Wanda smirks next to you, her eyes now bright thanks to the latte that she was sipping on. Natasha also watches you, and although she has a passive look on her face you can see the amusement that she was trying to hide as you try to even out your breathing.

“You literally slept in our bed, and you’re afraid of a little date?” You glance at the man in a suit a table over, though he seems to enthralled with whatever’s on his phone to be paying attention to the three of you. Wanda giggles at your reaction, gently bumping your shoulder with hers to bring your attention back to them.

“We just want to learn a little bit about you,” Natasha says, leaning forward and crossing her arms on the table. “There’s no pressure for anything else.”

“Especially since we’ve all already made out,” Wanda murmurs, wincing when Natasha kicks her under the table. “Sorry, I’ll be good.” But when Natasha looks back at you she gives a subtle shake of her head, biting her lip to hold back a laugh when you readjust in your seat. You clear your throat, fingers fidgeting with the lid on the coffee cup.

“What do you want to know?” Natasha shrugs and Wanda tilts her head, her smile now gentle when she hears the anxiety in your voice.

“For now, the basics. We already know your food preferences, and now your coffee order. What else do you have to share, dorogaya?” And so for the next half hour you do so, with them joining in at certain parts and you couldn’t help but relax despite the caffeine that was coursing through you. It felt natural with them once your mind settled down, easy in a way that you had never experienced even with the occasional bantering.

“I just don’t understand how anyone’s favorite animal could be anything other than an owl,” Wanda says, trying to balance her cup on its rim as Natasha rolls her eyes.

“That’s very stereotypically-witchy of you, love.” Wanda crinkles her nose at her before turning back to you, cup forgotten about as she leans forwards, her hands holding her chin up as her elbows sit on the table. She opens her mouth only to pause at a familiar voice.

“I might be biased, but I’m partial to hawks.” Wanda rolls her eyes, her playful demeanor dropping slightly as Natasha groans, Clint walking over and stealing a chair by her.

“Clint, the compound better be burning down or I’m going to kick your ass.” He chuckles, leaning on the back two legs of the chair and glances at you, his eyes glinting with curiosity.

“Is this the one that you two won’t stop talking about?” Wanda’s coffee cup suddenly flies across the table at him, red magic around it, but he easily catches it with a raised eyebrow. “Wow, so defensive. Do you know the impact you’ve made on these two?” You look away when he tries to catch your gaze again, only relaxing slightly when you feel Wanda’s hand on your thigh.

“What do you want, Barton?”

“Well, I’m on a grocery run. Apparently someone’s been using all of the peanut butter and…” he pulls out a sheet of paper, squinting at it, “…marshmallow fluff? Who even uses marshmallow fluff?” Both you and Natasha look at Wanda, who looks away sheepishly as she slides down in her seat. “But I saw you three and thought I’d come say hi.”

“Okay, hi, now leave.” He rolls his eyes at Natasha, standing with his hands raised.

“Alright, alright. I’ll meet you guys back at the compound after I buy this stuff for whatever weirdo needs it.” You sit up straighter, and can hear Natasha whisper ”uh oh” before you stand, blocking his path.

“Weirdo? Has literally none of your team heard of a fluffernutter?” He gives you a confused look, and when you turn to Natasha and Wanda they just shrug their shoulders. You give an exasperated groan, rubbing a hand down your face. “Simply unacceptable. As soon as we get back, you’re trying one.” You sit with a huff, crossing your arms over your chest and pouting. You can see Natasha glancing up at Clint, but don’t expect Wanda’s lips suddenly on yours. The kiss was quick, but was enough to make you smile as she pulls away, a matching one on her.

“That’s better, detka,” she murmurs, her smile only growing as you clear your throat, shuffling in your seat, and Natasha shoots you an amused look as Clint walks out the door. She picks up her empty cup, getting up and offering you a hand.

“What do you say we beat him there?”

-

-

Just as you did with Natasha and Wanda, you watch Clint expectantly as he holds the fluffernutter. But rather than the apprehension that the other two showed, he simply sighed, taking a bite and rolling his eyes.

“What? What does that mean?” You lean forward, squinting your eyes at him, and he shrugs.

“It’s just something I’d expect my…” he glances at Natasha before shaking his head, “…it seems like something for kids.”

“For kids?” You shake your head, jaw dropped in exasperation as he tries to hold back a laugh.

“Yeah, it’s just really sweet. It’s not bad, but it’s not like it’s revolutionary.” You place your head in you hands as he sets it on the plate, not noticing the red magic that immediately starts dragging it away from him.

“Not rev… this man’s taste buds are broken.” He finally laughs at that, standing and walking away towards the doors towards the living quarters. “No, don’t go! You just need to try more, here- Wanda!” She looks up, already having eaten half of the sandwich and gives you a grin that tells you that she didn’t feel guilty at all.

“Dorogaya,” you hear whispered in your ear, and turn to see that Natasha had gotten closer to you, one of her hands now lying on your hip, “I think you need to let him go.” You pout at her, though lean back into her front when her arm sneaks around your front. “Come on, let’s go watch a movie. I convinced Tony to let us continue using the projector.” Her lips find your cheek and you sigh happily, making Wanda look up and smile at you two. She stands as well, leaning forward to kiss your other cheek, and you giggle when you see the marshmallow on her lips when she pulls back.

“Did you get that on my cheek?” She tilts her head, fluttering her eyelashes innocently until she laughs as well, Natasha giving an amused huff as she pulls you closer. And in this moment, you can’t imagine anywhere else you’d rather be.

Chapter Text

It has been peaceful ever since the day before your coffee date. But of course when you work with The Avengers, daring to allow yourself to relax was as good as jinxing yourself, and you remember that as soon as the windows in the hallway that you were walking down are blown out, your back hitting a wall and ankle popping the second you land on it. You gasp in pain, eyes squeezing tightly as you try to determine just how bad of an idea it would be to try to put weight on it, but another pane of glass shattering near you makes you push yourself up. Using the railing on the wall to help you limp as far away as you can, you wince at the combination of your aching ankle and from the shouting and alarms going off.

“Doctor!” You glance over to an open office door, one of the anesthesia technologists peeking through the crack as she waves you over. You stumble to her, grasping onto a desk once you make your way in and sigh once the door clicks. “Are you hurt?”

“My ankle.” You reach down, hissing as you pull your shoe and sock off and wincing at the already swelling joint. You glance up, hoping one of your colleagues had broken the rule about not having drinks in the computer labs so you could have a make-shift ice pack when you see the body on the ground. As you move towards him, you grimace at the blood coming from his shoulder; not enough to make you fear that it had hit the brachial artery, but enough that it would soon be a problem.

“You need to elevate that,” she says about your ankle, but instead you sit down by him, your hurt leg to the side to try to cause the least discomfort as possible. You take your scrub top off and lean over, bunching it up and applying pressure to his wound, a quiet apology spilling from your lips when he weakly cries out.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” You look up towards the ceiling, but there’s no response. You call again, cursing when you get the same response before looking over at the scared woman. “Can you tell if they’re still attacking?” She shuffles towards the door on her knees, peeking out before shutting it again, wrapping her arms around herself and nodding. You grit your teeth and nod, looking down at the unconscious man. “Keep checking regularly and tell me when it’s clear, he’ll need to go to surgery and receive fluids as soon as possible.”

-

-

An hour and thirty-seven minutes. That’s how long you and the anesthesiologist try to keep the agent from going into shock, with you holding quickly-staining cloths over his wound while you order her to find every jacket or lab coat she could to keep him from losing body heat. It was Steve who eventually found you while double checking every room to ensure that the compound was once again secure. The agent was rushed out first on a gurney, the woman trapped with you running out next. And then you were alone, your leg throbbing, your hands stiff and your back sore, and you just wanted to go to sleep.

As you turn so that you can lean on a desk you feel a shock throughout your ankle, and can’t hold back the sob that you’ve been able to keep down, nausea washing over you from the amount of pain you suddenly feel now that the adrenaline is gone. You close your eyes, skin clammy and not caring when you hear rushed footsteps coming towards you.

“Hey,” a gentle voice says, the cool hands and even colder rings making you sigh in relief, and you let yourself lean closer towards the voice that you swear you recognize. “Detka, I need you to stay awake for me, okay? Please stay awake.”

“I hurt,” you murmur, and you didn’t just mean physically. The waiting, hoping that someone would come, hoping that the agent wouldn’t die, hoping and hoping for what seemed like forever took such a toll. “It hurts.” You relax even more at the kiss that’s placed on top of your head, finally looking up to see Wanda. Her eyes flicker between their usual green and their powerful yet slightly terrifying red, her breathing shaky as tears trail down her cheeks.

“Please stay awake,” she whispers, and you feel your heart break a little at just how weak she sounds. You nod despite how badly you want to let yourself drift to sleep, your hand reaching up and wiping away one of her tears. Neither of you seem to mind the dried blood as it brushes against her skin.

“I’m awake,” you nod before taking her shirt, pulling her down until her forehead touches yours. She shifts closer, body hovering protectively and her only movements being her slowing breaths until you two hear running just outside the door. Her head turns, but she looks back just as quick when your hand on her shirt tightens, hand reaching to your cheek. “Please don’t go.”

“I’m not going anywhere, detka,” she whispers as she leans forwards, pressing her lips to the top your head. “I’m here, I’ve got you.”

-

-

It’s not until Vision finds you two and convinces Wanda that you need to get your ankle checked out that you’re finally in a hospital gown, staring at your own MRI. You didn’t need another doctor to tell you that you had torn multiple ligaments and would need to stabilize your ankle in order to have them heal. But at least you knew the doctor who treated you, and he didn’t treat you like an idiot or sugarcoat anything. Instead he went straight into prescribing the boot, and now you were just waiting to be fitted for it.

A knock at your door is what makes you stop staring at the images, your back straightened as you expect the orthopedic technologist, but the tension immediately dissipates when you instead see the red-headed assassin.

“How bad is it?” You watch her as she looks down, catching her lips pursing before her face returns to a neutral state.

“They’ll check back in six weeks to see if I’ll need surgery, but for now it’ll just need to be stabilized.” She looks back up at you, making direct eye contact that nearly made you shiver with the intensity of it.

“And what about you? How are you?” You shrug and look down at your hands, trying to ignore when your heartrate speeds up when you hear her footsteps come closer. A gentle hand cups your jaw, lifting your face until you meet her eyes again, though they’re much softer this time. “Dorogaya, talk to me.” You sigh, taking her hand and pulling it into your lap as you intertwine your fingers. Licking your dry lips, you open your mouth to talk until the door opens, a man with a cardboard box holding the boot walking in.

“Alright doctor, this one should be the size… oh, Black Widow!” He stumbles back into the wall, Natasha raising an eyebrow at him and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.

“Yes, now are you going to put the boot on her or not?” He nods quickly, avoiding her the best that he can while also strapping you into the brace. Despite how careful he’s being, you still have to hold tightly onto Natasha’s hand as he works, at one point turning your head into her shoulder as you hiss out in pain at a particular pull. Once he finishes you can’t help but breathe out in relief, only half listening as he explains caring for the boot, your mind much more interested in just how well Natasha’s hand fits in yours.

“Dear?” You hum, just realizing that the technologist was leaving and Natasha was trying to hold back a chuckle. “Come on, where’d you put your clothes?” You glance behind you to where the scrubs you had worn that morning were, now bloodied and wrapped in a garbage bag.

“I’d rather not,” you start weakly, clearing your throat before trying to speak again but pausing when you feel a hand on your knee. Natasha gives you an empathetic look and leaves it there before asking for your size, then tells F.R.I.D.A.Y. to ask Pepper to send someone with clothes that would best fit.

“It’s working again?” She looks at you, confused. “I was calling when we were trapped, but there was no response. Was it working in other places around the compound?” Natasha grits her teeth, and you quickly place a hand on hers to try to calm her. She glances down, taking a deep breath before looking back up.

“It was working in our living areas. I’ll have Tony look into what happened.” You nod, you thumb brushing over her knuckles as the door opens, a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent walking in with several pairs of sweats and short sleeve shirts in varying colors.

“Ms. Potts wanted to apologize, but at this time this is all that she had available in the compound. She said that she can schedule an appointment with a stylist within the next several days?”

“No!” You shake your head quickly, laughing awkwardly when they both looked at you. “I mean, no, these are fine, thank you." Natasha takes the clothes from the agent, rolling her eyes when he rushes out before she has the chance to say anything, and places them on the table next to you. “What are you doing?”

“I’d imagine putting these on would be a little harder than before,” she says, taking the first pair of pants she sees and rolling up one of the legs. She kneels down in front of you, failing to contain her grin at your flustered state, but becomes serious again as she gently rolls the legs over your brace. You watch as she concentrates as to not hurt you, wondering how so many could fear her when she has such a tender side to her.

When she gets the first leg to your knee she mercifully lets you do the rest by yourself, turning as you put the shirt and sweater on. She turns at the thunk of your boot on linoleum, hands finding your hips when you nearly lose your balance.

“Didn’t realize this stupid thing rocks,” you mutter, making her laugh as you take another step with more confidence now that she’s there to guide you. Eventually she’s able to stand beside you, hand in yours as you take slow but stable steps, and once you exit the medical wing you feel another hand slip into your opposite one.

“Detka,” Wanda whispers, and you hum happily as she kisses you on the cheek. They both stay by your side, and you don’t realize that you’ve all walked to their living area until you hear shouting.

“It’s possibly the best thing to have been created! Second only to Pop Tarts, of course. Steve, how could you not enjoy this delicious morsel that we’ve found?”

“I told you Thor, it’s just too…” You listen to the pause, your focus on walking partially disrupted due to the argument, “…sticky? Just look at your beard Thor, come on.”

“That is what a sink is for. For now, we shall revel in whatever this culinary masterpiece is!” You look around the corner to see Thor shoving the last of a half of a fluffernutter sandwich into his mouth, Steve shaking his head and putting his half down. Before even finishing chewing, Thor reaches for the other half, going, “I shall finish that for-”

He doesn’t get the chance, as red tendrils grab it and bring it to Wanda’s hand. When the two men look over they both go pale at the glare they receive, and it’s only once you pull on her hand to lead her away that her death stare ends. She falls back in line with you and Natasha as she takes a bite of it, the three of you stopping outside of their room and you pausing, letting go of their hands.

“Is something wrong?” Wanda asks, shifting on her feet as you glance at their door before looking away.

“I just… don’t want to be a bother.” It’s Natasha who steps forwards, touching your cheek and laying her forehead on yours.

“You could never be,” she says confidently, ducking down slightly to catch your eye. “Dorogaya, we want you here, with us. No matter what your head tells you.” She brushes her nose against yours, giving your room to pull away. When you don’t she moves forward, gently brushing her lips against yours, and despite how delicate it was your heart still soared. You felt her take your hands and let your eyes flutter open as she pulled you in, Wanda already sitting on the edge of the bed. “Let’s get some rest now, yeah?”

As you slip under the comforter Wanda immediately curls into your side, using the arm that you stretch out as a pillow and throwing her own over your stomach, sighing as she nestles closer. Natasha rolls her eyes as she gets in on the other side of you, propped up on her elbow and letting her thumb brush over your cheek bone.

“Rest now, dorogaya. We’ll protect you.” You nod at the statement that you completely believe, closing your eyes as the sound of breathing lulls you to sleep.

Chapter Text

In general, if one were in a great deal of discomfort, possibly because they had just been involved in a terroristic attack the previous day and were injured, they would do something to alleviate that pain. And under normal circumstances you would, except you couldn’t bring yourself to move when the two women who you really needed to discuss relationship labels with were lying right beside you, Wanda’s warm breath grazing over the skin of your neck, half of her body now covering yours while Natasha’s arms are holding you both protectively. The room’s still dark, and the compound is near silent other than some machinery that one would expect in a place as technically advanced as here. You let out a little sigh, trying to relax again when a shooting pain courses through your ankle, and although biting your lip stops the cry, you can’t hold back the grunt.

“Dorogaya?” Natasha is immediately awoken at the sound of your discomfort despite your attempt to quiet it, shifting so that she can look you in the eye. “What’s wrong?” You shake your head, trying to not get too distracted by the rasp in her voice due to sleep, and start to deny that anything was wrong when Wanda shifts off of you.

“It’s her ankle,” she murmurs, pushing back her tangled hair from her face as she glances down at the boot.

“It’s not fair that you can read thoughts.” She hums, her hand cupping your jaw as Natasha shifts on the mattress, pills rattling as she sits back with a medicine bottle and water bottle.

“I saw the imaging tests detka, I don’t need to read your mind to know you’re in pain.” She presses forward, leaving a soft kiss on your lips before pulling back, shifting to her knees and helping you sit up. As soon as your back hits the headboard, two pills are placed in your hand, Natasha’s fingertips lingering while her other hand holds the water in front of you. With a sigh you swallow the pills and down the water, not realizing how dry your throat was until only drops trickled from the bottle. As soon as you pull the bottle away Natasha’s lips are on yours, her sigh tickling your cheek.

Your tongue swipes at her bottom lip in an attempt to deepen the kiss, but instead you whine when she pulls back with a small smirk.

“What are we?” You finally ask the question that has been probing at the back of your mind for ages, but to them the suddenness surprises them.

“What do you mean, detka?” Wanda tilts her head, and you suck in your lips as you build up your courage.

“Well, we’ve never discussed what exactly our relationship status is. You two are obviously a couple, but…” you shrug your shoulders, looking down at your lap, “…where do I fit in?” A hand cups your chin and you immediately melt into the gentle touch, Natasha’s thumb stroking along your jawline as she compels you to look at the two of them.

“Well, I think it’s fairly obvious what we’d like,” Natasha says, glancing over to see Wanda give an approving nod, the witch’s hand taking yours and squeezing. “But if you’d like a formal request,” you roll your eyes at the teasing cadence in her voice, “we’d like you to be our partner. If you’ll have us, of course.” You can’t help the smile the blooms across your face, nodding rapidly as you grab the two and pull them in for a tight embrace.

“Yes,” you whisper, giggling gleefully as your hold grows tighter, “yes, I’d like that. Love that, actually.”

“As happy as we are to hear that, I’d rather be kissing you than the headboard.” You let them go, growing warm when you realize that you’d forgotten how you’d been seated, but your two girlfriends just chuckled, Wanda’s hand reaching around the back of your neck and pulling you close while Natasha sat back, her hand resting on your knee. Soft lips press onto yours, teeth accidently clashing when neither of you can’t stop smiling, then suddenly you have to pull away to yawn.

“I think the pills are taking effect, dorogaya,” Natasha says as her hand moves to Wanda’s hip, and you pout at her. “Oh, don’t be like that. We’ll have plenty of time to continue once you wake up. And plenty more to do once that boot comes off.” They both laugh when you grow flustered at her words, both helping to lay you back down and pulling the covers over you. They take either side of you, and Wanda nuzzles back into you, Natasha gently kissing your shoulder before taking you both in her arms again. Their steady breathing only help to lull you to sleep further.

“Good night, our girl,” Natasha murmurs lowly, and as your eyelids drop your sleepy smile remains.

-

-

When you next wake up to only feel one body next to you, you blink away the sleep to see Natasha sitting up on the headboard with a phone in her hand. Her eyes dart across the screen quickly, annoyance evident on her features before she sighs and locks it, tossing it to her side.

“Everything okay?” She steels her features quickly before giving a tight smile, her fingers making their way to your hair. You furrow your brows at the odd shifts, but you hold back your questions as she leans down to kiss your forehead.

“Just an upcoming mission, they’re deciding who’ll be going.” Her hand starts massaging your scalp, and you relax under her touch. “It’s recon, so more likely than not me and Clint, but if they think that there’s a chance of engagement they’ll send others as well.”

“What do you think?” Before she gets the chance to respond, there’s a gentle knock on the door before Wanda looks in, a bright smile on her face.

“Hey, I just finished making pancakes if you two want some?” You barely get the chance to nod enthusiastically before you squeal in surprise as strong arms lift you up, Natasha laughing as she carries you out of the room. “So I’ll just go ahead and take that as a yes?”

“It’s a yes!” You shout back as you’re taken as quickly as possible to the kitchen without causing your leg any discomfort, the smell of not only pancakes but also eggs, bacon, hashbrowns and coffee filling the air.

“You really went all out, didn’t you?” Natasha teases as she sets you down at the counter, immediately reaching for a plate as Wanda’s arms wrap around your shoulders.

“Anything for my darlings,” she hums, her warm breath on your ear making you shiver. Her lips find your temple before she pulls away, asking what you want and plating it for you, the two sitting by you once you all have a hearty amount of food in front of you. “But hurry up and drink the coffee, Tony is going to be up here any minute.” Natasha curses, wincing when she tries to take a large sip of the still steaming drink.

“Why don’t you just hide it?” They both look at you incredulously and you shrug. “Rearrange some dishes, or put it in the pantry.” Wanda grins, waving her fingers and the coffee pot flies to sit behind several boxes of cereal before the door closes.

“I really hope you both know what you’ve just done,” Natasha whispers just before Steve walks through the doors, giving a small smile and nod to the three of you as he makes his way to the meeting room. “Especially if Cap calls for a-”

“All Avengers, please come to the meeting room,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice calls throughout the compound, and you smile sheepishly into your mug and Wanda fights back a laugh, Natasha’s head in her hands.

-

-

After Natasha carried you back to their room and Wanda cheekily told you that you could text them if you needed anything during the meeting, you relax onto their sofa with a sigh. The television was already turned to an episode of The Golden Girls, the best compromise Wanda and Natasha could come to when it came to shows. Halfway between a blurb between Dorothy and Sophia both Natasha and Wanda come rushing in, seeming equally stressed. You immediately sit up, watching both of them grab their typical clothes for missions.

“What happened to just recon?” Natasha’s brows furrow before she forces her expression to be neutral, but Wanda flinches before turning towards you.

“There was a change of plans. There were Hydra agents spotted at the base, and F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s facial recognition technology was able to identify some as those who attacked the compound. We need to move out now.”

“How long will the mission be?”

“Hopefully we’ll be back before morning,” Natasha says, zipping up the front of her suit before putting on the rest of her gear with an ease that shows her experience with them. Wanda pulls on her coat just as she finishes, it flapping behind her as she walks to you to kiss the top of your head.

“We’ll be back before you know it, detka.” They’re both out the door just as quickly as they came in, and despite knowing that they were well trained and well equipped for these missions, the image of the Black Widow on your operating table won’t stop flashing through your mind’s eye.