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Wanda’s shirt was missing. She stared at the shelf for a minute, blankly. It wasn’t just any shirt, but the grey one with the little dinosaur logo, and despite her having no interest in dinosaurs, she was quite fond of it. She knew for a fact it should be on the top of the (albeit messy, and unfolded) pile of t-shirts on her shelf, but damn her to hell and back if it wasn’t there.
She was disorientated for a second there, sure, but just pulled the next in the pile over her head (a blue shirt. It used to be Vision’s, until she claimed it, glad when none of the other Avengers commented. Nat did give her a smirk, the first time she emerged from her bedroom wearing it and a pair of pyjama shorts, but to be fair, Nat smirked at many things.)
(The other Avengers didn’t know about her and Vision’s relationship yet- they were still figuring it out themselves and although Wanda was sure Nat had her suspicions, they weren’t quite ready to tell the rest of the group just yet.)
She briefly considered a jumper, but dismissed it; Avengers Tower was well-insulated, despite the freezing wind raging outside, and she was only going to breakfast, after all. She scavenged the two fluffy pink bunny slippers from the vague pile of mess next to the door- she should really clean that up soon, she knew, her room looked like a hurricane tore through it, but also? she didn’t quite care enough.
(Wanda and Pietro’s room in Sokovia used to be perfectly neat, and in the Hydra facility she had no opportunity for mess. This was nice, she thought, although she did miss actually knowing where everything was.)
Her shoes squeaked with every step towards the stairs, and she began to wonder if the others were back yet- Nat, Vision and Bucky had been on patrol through the night, and dawn had broken perhaps an hour ago. It was too early for any other Avengers to be up- (except maybe Tony, who likely just didn’t ever go to sleep, but he’d be in the lab). Wanda, however, had never had the best sleep schedule, and her frequent nightmares gave her no chance to try and fix it.
The kitchen was a few floors below hers. Sure, she could have used the elevator, but she preferred instead to perch herself on the handrail of the spiral staircase and push, sliding down at a speed helped along by her powers. Her hands were outstretched, lit up with scarlet light, untied hair whipping across her face. She let out a laugh, snatched from her mouth by the speed of it. She didn’t even fall this time, which she considered a win. The stairs landed directly in the kitchen and Wanda herself slid straight off the end and fell into Vision, eyes sparkling and hair windswept. He staggered back a step or two, bracing himself against one of the many couches in the room, curving his arms instinctively around her back. She grabbed onto his shoulders, a smile breaking across her face, gazing into his eyes. “Shit, sorry, I wasn’t watching-”
He smiled in return. “That’s quite alright, Wa- uh, Miss Maximoff.” He took a step back and released her, glancing guiltily over at where Nat leaned on the bench, one arm bracing herself, the other holding coffee. Starbucks coffee. Her dark hair was pulled back into a bun; Wanda always admired how she managed to return from a fight without her hair falling out.
“Interrupting something?” She remarked dryly, but she was smiling. She gestured to an iced coffee on the bench beside her. “This is for you. Vision said you’d want one.”
Wanda grinned at Vision, taking the coffee and running a hand through her own hair in an attempt to smooth it back down. “Well, Vision was quite right.” She sipped the coffee, bitter and cold, exactly how she liked it.
“How was patrol?” She asked, nodding to the cut on the bridge of Nat’s nose. “You should really clean that out.”
“Alright, I know,” the older woman smiled. “Patrol was fine. Unless you’re Bucky.”
Wanda raised an eyebrow, tying her red hair at the base of her neck moving around the bench to the fridge to pull out eggs, cheese and milk. “Right. And if you’re Bucky…”
A groan arose from the couch. Wanda could just see a mop of dark hair poking over one side, though the back of the couch was to her.
“If you’re Bucky,” Bucky said, “You get tossed in a fucking garbage dump, and you still smell like rotten bananas.”
“It was quite unfortunate, although we managed to fish him out rather quickly.” Vision remarked, and Wanda smiled at him. He still wasn’t quite as comfortable partaking in group conversations such as these, anxious his lack of human experience would serve him poorly.
“Quite unfortunate.” Nat hid a grin with another sip of coffee. Wanda started whisking the eggs and milk in a jug. She fancied she could smell the rotten bananas.
“Ah, пошел на хуй,” came Bucky’s reply, and Wanda didn’t know much Russian, but she didn’t need to to know that that wasn’t a compliment. “Anyway, I’m gonna go shower if I ever want Steve to come near me again.”
He rose from the couch, flicking his long hair back from his face, metal arm reflecting the sunlight streaming through the large windows on the other side of the room. Bucky had only recently become one of the Avengers, and so had moved in with Steve instead of getting his own quarters. Neither of the two were unhappy with the arrangement, and had tried far less than Wanda and Vision to hide their relationship from the others. ‘Far less’ being not at all, of course. Wanda was only glad the rooms were soundproofed.
The stove was one of the new electric ones; Wanda struggled to turn it on a few times, Nat looking on in amusement from where she was still leaning on the other bench, before Vision phased through and leaned over her. He leant his chin on her shoulder, his vibranium skin cold through her shirt. “You have to slide it-” He moved his finger across the stovetop panel and somehow, magically, it lit up and started heating.
Wanda groaned in light-hearted frustration. “This is ridiculous. Blatant favouritism from the stove.” She turned her head over her shoulder to look at Vision, very aware that their faces were only centimetres apart. The stove bench was pressing against her hip. “Um, thank you.”
“You’re- you’re very welcome, Wanda Maximoff,” Vision said, his voice lower. His hand was on her shoulder. Wanda drew in a breath. It was all well and good, sneaking around and spending time wherever the other Avengers wouldn’t see, secreting into each other’s rooms at night and staying up watching movies, kissing occasionally and only when they were sure they were alone, but Wanda did sometimes wish for more. To be able to cuddle up unapologetically on the couch during movie nights, like Steve and Bucky. To be able to casually kiss him while making breakfast. She knew he wanted more time, though, and she didn’t hold it against him. His eyes were very blue, and his face was very lovely, and very close to hers.
“So,” Natasha interrupted, a shit-eating grin on her face, “you’re making scrambled eggs?”
Vision instantly took a step back, biting his lip. Wanda mustered up what little dignity she had left. “Yes. I am.” She poured the egg-milk mixture on the pan, sprinkling cheese. “Pass me the salt and pepper, will you?”
Nat stood up straight and reached up to the cupboard, passing the shakers to Wanda. “You forgot to put butter on the pan.”
Wanda opened her mouth. “Oops?” Before she could get any further, however, she got a better look at Nat, standing as she was and facing her properly. “Nice shirt.”
“I could say the same to you,” Nat nodded at Vision’s old shirt that Wanda was wearing.
Wanda smiled ruefully. “Touche. How’d you manage to sneak into my room?”
Natasha’s shirt was light grey, with a small green dinosaur logo. Wanda was almost surprised by the fact that she didn’t mind at all; it was almost nice. She had never had a sister to share clothes with before.
“Wanda, I’m a trained assassin. It wasn’t hard. Anyway, your room is closer to the kitchen than mine, and my uniform was covered in blood-”
“Nat!”
“-Not my blood, so I needed another shirt.”
Wanda sighed, but she was smiling. “Well, it looks better on me.”
Natasha laughed. “Right. And your eggs are burning.”
“Shit.”
(Nat watched Wanda frantically lift the pan off the heat, swearing in Sokovian, and Vision gazing at her fondly from the other side of the kitchen. She had no clue who these kids thought they were kidding; they were smitten with each other. Nat was, however, self-aware to the fact that she was perhaps the most observant of all the Avengers. She had this excellent t-shirt and a mediocre coffee, and Wanda and Vision’s almost sitcom-like love story playing out in front of her; she was quite comfortable.)