Fire and Ice

Part 1: Complications

(Natasha)

For the third time this morning, Wanda and I were squaring off on opposite sides of my room. I saw her eyes flash red as she turned on me, groaning in frustration. "All I wanted to do was get my god-damned jacket," she sighed, frustrated.

"No one's stopping you, Wanda," I snarked back, my arms folded across my chest.

"Why do you have to be like this?" She approached me, reaching out like she was going to stroke my hair. I pulled back, out of her reach. Wanda sighed, her hand lowering to her side. "Just forget it, Natasha." She withdrew, pausing in the doorway of my room.

"Wanda," I started. She hesitated, but didn't turn around. "Come on, I'm sorry." I didn't even really know what I was apologizing for at this point. I heard Wanda scoff from the doorway.

"Well, when you figure it out, you come and find me," she hissed before leaving the room, slamming the door shut with her powers on the way out.

"Shit," I groaned. I hated the mind reading thing when we were bickering. It made everything so much worse. I heard a tap on the door, thinking that Wanda had come back for round two. "Come in," I grumbled as I started picking up the clothes strewn around my room. I heard someone clearing their throat behind me and turned to find Steve leaning in the doorway. I sighed. I didn't need this right now. "Not the time, Rogers," I mumbled over my shoulder. I looked back to see his hands raised in surrender.

"I didn't say anything," he smiled, looking around the room. "Was there a tornado in the compound I didn't know about?" I scoffed, throwing a sweatshirt at him and hitting him smack in the face. He wadded the material up into a ball and tossed it onto the chair.

"Yeah, hurricane Wanda – thought I had one of her old sweatshirts." I sighed. I hated the mess. I quickly grabbed clothes, shoving them into the closet, out of sight.

"So you guys are off again, or?" Steve didn't finish the question. He didn't have to. Wanda and I were fooling ourselves if we ever thought our relationship – or lack of one – was a secret around here. We had fun together loudly, and argued even more loudly. Besides, it was hard to keep secrets with this kind of team. I sat on the edge of the bed, resting my head in my hands.

"I don't know, Steve." He came into the room, sitting behind me and resting a hand on my shoulder.

"In some ways, you two are perfect for each other," he said softly. I smirked, managing not to laugh.

"And in others, it's like a walking nightmare," I scoffed, poking fun at myself. The super-soldier beside me smiled.

"Something like that," he agreed. "It's like there's one piece between you that just doesn't fit together right, like something's missing." He looked towards my bare wall, appearing to be lost in thought.

I jumped as Jarvis' voice filled the room. "Mr. Stark would like to have you join him in the conference room," the A.I. announced. "There's a new player in town." Steve and I looked at each other, both of our eyebrows raising in unison as we both got to our feet and made our way down to the conference room. About time something exciting happened.

(Wanda)

I tried to pay attention to Tony as he droned on in the meeting. I really did. I kept stealing glances over at Natasha, sitting beside Steve and joking around with him as usual. I scowled at her when her deep green eyes caught mine once. She stared down at the table, quieted for a moment before Steve elbowed her in the side, leaned in to tell another joke and got her smiling again. I sighed. This just really wasn't going to work, and it was time that I started allowing myself to accept it. I had to admit, though, that I was really going to miss Natasha's touch. She was an expert at what she did, even though she sometimes allowed her insecurity to shine through. I loved those moments, but she hated showing me any kind of vulnerability, so it usually led to a fight. Like the one we had this morning. Plus, the woman was the best kisser I had ever known. I was aggressive, though, and she was dominant, and as much fun as battling for control was at first, it had quickly grown into a frustrating nightmare. Natasha needed adventure, danger, or risk in her life. I couldn't handle the anxiety. She wouldn't allow me to take care of her and look after her, and I wasn't about to let her take care of me. We were too much alike to celebrate our differences and be good for each other. "Wanda?" Tony's voice broke me out of my thoughts, and I found him looking at me expectantly. I stole a glance at Natasha who was smirking at me, knowingly. She couldn't read minds, but she certainly had no problem knowing what I was thinking.

"Hmm?" I asked, sitting forward in my chair.

"You and Natasha are going to be on different shifts. We've caught her on camera at fire scenes, during that flash flood upstate she was filmed on a bystander's go-pro. We don't know what her deal is, but it's something, and she's popped up on our radar more than once." I nodded. I glanced at the file in front of me. The blond girl's picture attached to the intelligence briefing was stunning. I picked the picture up, tracing a finger over her shape before looking back up. I caught Natasha smirking at me again.

"She always sticks to a pretty normal routine," Natasha finally spoke, her voice gruff. All business. "I can bump into her and see if I can get her to talk." I looked at her and rolled my eyes. Always the first to volunteer when there was a pretty woman involved.

"If you want her to go running in the other direction," I spoke under my breath, but everyone heard me anyway. Natasha sat back in her seat, looking slightly offended.

"Do you think you could do better?" She asked, her arms crossed in front of her chest. I smiled at her sweetly.

"Definitely." My accent was starting to make its presence known. Steve frowned, glancing between me and Natasha.

"Just stick to the plan. We'll see if we can draw her out, and it's going to be less threatening if it's one of you two." He brokered the peace between us, defusing the situation. Natasha and I glared at each other over the table. If this worked out well, however, we might make up later. Maybe. I caught Natasha's eyes sweeping over the picture of the woman in the file in front of her as well. I smirked. Maybe not.