Chapter Text
Natasha licked her finger and traced it around the rim of her glass. Sam watched, un-amused, as she finally made the crystal ring. Several people at the table around them winced and looked around for the source of the noise. Sam smacked her hand away and took her glass.
"Can you focus for five seconds?"
"I'm focused!" She snatched the glass back. "I'm just trying to come up with a solution to your boring normal human problems that you'll actually approve of."
Sam scowled and was saved from replying by their food arriving.
"Thanks, Wanda." He took his pasta with a smile to the harassed looking waitress. "You have a break coming up? You should sit with us."
Natasha nodded into her drink and used her free hand to lift her jacket from the chair next to her. "Yeah- come on. How've you been?"
Wanda made a "tch!" noise as she took off the black apron around her waist and dropped into the seat.
"I am Jewish and working in seafood restaurant, how do you think it is going?"
"I thought you said you were 'barely practicing.'" Sam raised his eyebrows at her.
"I am," she took a spare fork from the nearby empty table and stole one of his shrimp. "But I've been having bad luck lately, so, naturally, it is because my father is rolling in his grave."
"Naturally," Natasha passed her their basket of breadsticks. "What kind of bad luck are you having? Anyone we can threaten for you?"
"I wish. But unless you want to beat up the cost of living in Brooklyn, there's not much you can do."
"I wouldn't say no to that," Sam raised his glass in solidarity.
"We were working on Sam's problems today, but we can move on to yours if you want."
"No-" Wanda shook her head as she chewed on a huge bite of breadstick. "Tell me. Hopefully your problems will make me feel better about mine."
Sam rolled his eyes and concentrated on his food while Natasha filled their friend in on the whole situation. It was nothing new, really. Just his mother being her typical lovable yet overbearing self. It had been the third time in two weeks she had called him trying to set him up with a friend's kid, and he'd made the mistake of mentioning it to Natasha.
"Why don't you just tell her you are already seeing someone?" Wanda was on her second breadstick, waving the remaining end as she spoke. "You could say it was me. I would not mind."
Natasha waved a hand. "Tried that. No luck."
"My last partner was a guy," Sam explained. "And every time I go from men to women or the other way, I have to listen to her go on and on about how I can never make up my mind. It's worse than getting constantly set up."
Wanda grimaced. "No- we must find you a man, then."
"Not you too."
"Not a real boyfriend, just someone to get your mother to stop bothering you about being single."
"See, I knew I liked her-" Natasha waved her straw at Wanda. "Crazy, convoluted solutions to simple life problems. My kinda woman."
Sam shook his head at the idea. "She knows everyone I'd feel comfortable asking. It'd be uncomfortable when I'd have to make up some story about the breakup."
"I keep telling you, Steve is used to people's mothers hating him."
"No. I'm not doing that. New idea."
Sam ate quietly while they thought about it.
"Just tell her to back off."
"You've never met Sam's mother. I have- and I think he should fake his death. That one always works."
"That seems a little dramatic. But can you cry on purpose? You could break down the next time she tries to set you up and tell her it is torment for your soul to be reminded how lonely it is and she will feel so guilty she will never bring it up again."
"Do you two ever take your own advice? Would you?" He raised his eyebrows at them. "Because I'm pretty sure you wouldn't still be alive if you did."
Natasha shrugged and finished her oyster stew. "I don't really care enough about anything to fake my death over. So haven't done that one yet."
"I don't follow my own advice, but my brother does, so I have to be sure it is good," Wanda had taken Sam's drink when he wasn't looking and was now half finished with it. "But the fake partner is still the best option."
"I'm not doing that one," Sam reminded her with a sigh. "I'm going to silently put up with it until one of us dies of loneliness."
~
Pietro rolled over in bed and squinted at his phone. 3am. Wanda would not be home for another hour. He might as well get up. The waking hours she did not spend at work were the only thing in his life worth being awake for. He took a shower more out of something to do than because he needed one. As he dressed, the front door snapped shut.
"I hope that is you, drágám," he called through the bedroom door. "I do not remember if I locked the door and I do not want to be murdered."
"It is, you didn't, make me tea and I will spare you."
He pulled on a fresh shirt and went out into the living area of the tiny apartment. Wanda had flopped down onto the fold out mattress of the couch.
"You can have the bed. I will stay up now."
"I can't move," she groaned into the stained pillowcase. "I will never move again."
Pietro bent to ruffle her hair as he passed the couch and proceeded to make her tea. He reached at first for the packaged bags from the grocery store, then thought better of it and used a pinch of leaves from the scratched old tin on the top shelf.
"What are you-" she had lifted her head at the sound of him opening the tin. "Pietro- no! That is for-"
"It is to remind us of home," he put the exact amount of honey she liked in the steaming mug and stirred it as he brought it to her. "But you have only had it once since we arrived here."
"Because we have to save it. It is all we have." She continued to protest, even as she held the cup reverently in her hands and breathed in the steam.
"If we save it for too long, we'll forget," he reminded her, sitting on the edge of the fold out bed and looking down at his hands. "It won't mean anything."
She was quiet for a moment.
"You're right. I'm sorry, Pietro. Thank you." She drank half the tea before passing him the mug.
Pietro took it and drank the rest while she told him about her night of work. He'd never liked the tea back before their parents died. But it was their mother's favorite and the smell and taste were both familiar.
"So the customers were as horrible as usual, but Sam and Natasha came for lunch, so I got to see them during my break. Sam's mother is bothering him to find a date, so we tried to think of ways to get her to stop. It was nice. How was your day?"
Pietro shrugged as he finished the tea. He didn't want to tell her that he'd done nothing with his day except go for a run and scrape together enough spare change for a sandwich and fries from the cafe down the street.
"Pietro..."
She could always tell when he was keeping something from her or lying. Having a twin was sometimes very inconvenient.
"What... did you make any calls?"
"Yes- some."
It was a lie and she knew it. Pietro was grateful when she turned the subject back to the rude man who had tried to get her number for over an hour.
~
"Samuel Edward Wilson, I've done it. I've really done it this time."
"No- Mom-"
"He's Lue's son. You remember Lucy Figgus from my book club?"
Sam sighed and rubbed his temples. She'd called him at work. At work. This was getting wildly out of hand.
"Mom, I really appreciate you trying to help, but I'm just not looking to be set up-"
"I worry about you, Sam! And Lue worries about Fredrick! That's his name, Fredrick. He's very sweet. I've met him a few times and he hasn't run away yet."
Sam took a breath and collected himself as she laughed at her own joke.
"I don't need to be set up, Mom. I-" he didn't know why he did it. Maybe his friends were stating to wear off on him. "I'm already seeing someone."
There was a moment of silence. Sam thought he should be offended that she was evidently shocked speechless.
"No you're not."
He was definitely offended that this news was not just shocking, but unbelievable in her mind.
"I am. He's uh- my friend's brother. Wanda- you know? Has a twin?"
"Didn't you say you barely get to see Wanda outside work? How did you meet her brother?"
"Come on- is it really so hard to believe?"
Evidently, yes, as she did not even dignify this with an answer.
"How come you've never mentioned him?" She sounded suspicious. "How come you haven't-"
"I didn't mention him because I didn't know if he was ready to meet you," Sam interrupted hastily before she really got going.
There was a beat of silence again, but this one was shorter.
"But you two are ready now!"
Sam's heart dropped like a stone and she laughed joyfully. This was the opposite of a solution to his problems.
"Wait-"
"Oh Sam! I'm so excited. This weekend. I know you don't have plans yet. You never have plans until the very last minute."
"No, Mom- I can't just-"
"I won't take no for an answer, Sam!" She sounded beyond delighted. "You know, if I have a regret in my life, just one-"
"Mom- I have to go."
"No you don't. You just don't want to talk about-"
Sam's gut clenched and he hastened to interrupt her. "I'm at work. You can't just call me in the middle of the day and expect to-"
"Oh alright. But you're coming. And you're bringing this new man with you."
The line clicked. Sam dropped his head down on his desk.
~
Wanda laughed for nearly two minutes straight when he told her. Sam was glad she at least found the situation funny. He'd offered to pay for dinner at the Dim Sum restaurant she'd been meaning to try. After they had ordered, he explained the situation.
"Are you done?" Sam raised his eyebrows at her as she clapped her hands together in delight, still laughing. "You know everyone in this place thinks you're certifiably nuts now, right?"
"I'm sorry-" she pressed her lips together, trying to stay her giggling. "But- you couldn't think of anyone who would make a more believable fake boyfriend?"
"Well I don't know your brother, so I figured she couldn't harass him."
"But now she wants to meet him," Wanda raised her eyebrows at him. She was sobering now, starting to understand just how serious the situation was. At least, that's what Sam hoped was going through her head. "And then she very much can harass him."
Sam planted his elbows on the table and ran his hands down his face. "I'll tell her we broke up. Just- just though I'd warn you. You know- in case you ever meet her and she brings it up."
One of Wanda's eyebrows cocked above the other. "You didn't take me out for dumplings and beer to tell me that your mother may one day mention that she hates my brother, whom she has never met."
She took out her phone and started tapping away at the screen as she spoke. Sam groaned.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm explaining everything to Pietro."
Sam gaped at her.
"What-" he snatched at her phone, but she leaned easily out of his reach, grinning as she texted her brother. "What do you think you're-"
"I know he'll do it. He will find it all very funny, I'm sure."
"'He'll do it'?" Sam's stomach was sinking with dread before he even finished asking. "Do what?"
"Go meet your mother for the weekend," she smiled down at her phone as she continued to swipe out messages. "He will think it is a wonderful joke."
Sam stared at her as she shifted in her seat, adjusting her grip on the phone.
"Are you taking-"
"Just trust me, this is going to be fun." She frowned down at her phone for a moment. Looking pensive, she clacked out something with her brows drawn together.
"He said no," Sam laughed with relief. "See, I told you, it's not a joke-"
"He'll do it," she was back to grinning now, finally setting down her phone. "I told him that you will pick him up from our flat on Friday after you're done with work. And that he should bring toothbrush and clothes. Is that all?"
"No! Wanda- we can't just-"
"Of course we can," she leaned back to allow the server to set down her food. "Thank you. Anyway- tomorrow the two of you can work out all the details in the car on the way to your mother's. You said she lives upstate, yes? That should be enough time to come up with stories and to learn about each other."
Sam stared at her. He knew he tended to get mixed up with somewhat eccentric friends. And normally he was happy to go along with Natasha and Steve's wild adventures. But he drew the line at that sort of thing involving his mother.
"I'm never going to forgive you for this, you know that right?"
She shrugged, halfway through her food already. "Hey- it was your idea."
~
Pietro was lying in bed, picking at his nails, when his phone buzzed. He grabbed it, frowning. Wanda had said she was going out to dinner with a friend between her usual two shifts. He'd thought she would be far too busy to say anything at all to him until she got home. Unless something had happened. He opened the message, feeling anxious.
Pietro- This. Is. Amazing. You remember my friend Sam? He told his mother he was already dating someone so she couldn't set him up. And he didn't want to say someone she knew, so he said it was you.
Pietro stared at the message, then laughed despite himself.
Now she wants to meet you.
He laughed harder and someone above him stamped on the floor.
"Shut up, ya lunatic!"
"I will when you stop having boring sex every night!"
He ignored the resulting curses and swiped out a response.
Is he good looking? Send me pictures.
A moment later:
He didn't know I was taking this- he is much cuter when he smiles and is not annoyed with me.
Pietro grinned at the photo of the man, scowling and waving what looked like a pair of chopsticks at Wanda.
He is not so bad when he is angry either.
I told him you will find it all very funny. Will you do it?
Pietro grinned down at the screen and was halfway through tapping out a positive response when his stomach sank for no real reason at all. He wanted to. The whole situation was more than hilarious. But the same thing held him back that kept him from asking local businesses for applications when he went out every day.
As if reading his mind all the way from Midtown, Wanda sent another message.
You deserve some fun, Pietro. I know you're worried about things, but if you leave for a weekend and come back, things will seem better.
He smiled at the message, even as his gut twisted. They didn't talk about it, but she knew. She knew he felt like he didn't belong in New York, and was terrified by how quickly she had adapted. He knew he was stupid for feeling this way. Their lot in New York was already hundreds of times better than in Sokovia. They had somewhere to sleep at night, for one. A small, dirty apartment in a dodgy neighborhood full of junkies, but it was out of the cold. They had food- neither of them had gone hungry in months. And Wanda had even carefully planned out her earnings and deemed it reasonable to buy them both fairly recent smart phones. She said they were for emergencies, but their data plan allowed for plenty of use.
But he missed the city. He missed home. He missed the energy that came with the struggle just to live. He even missed the cold. Sometimes, in winter, he slept with the windows open while Wanda was at work. But now, when the air outside was hotter than in, there was no relief.
I'm sorry. I will tell him to forget about it.
What are you talking about? Of course I will charm your handsome friend's mother for a weekend.