𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐑𝐓
❝ Well, duh. It comes with
unfrozen ninety-year olds
and emotional teenage
microwaves.❞
the time when the avengers
met a book smart girl
...
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⎯⎯ ☆ ⎯⎯
━━ AS WANDA'S BLASTS OF FIERY ENERGY hit the targets in the shooting range that looked over the lake, Nat observed while giving the girl tips on her aiming skills while casually leaning on the glass pane.
"Why do you close one of your eyes? That's not gonna help. Stop doing that." She ordered, Wanda's puzzled look prompting her to explain.
"If one eye is closed, then it... it distorts your vision." She clarified, Wanda nodding and trying again. Focusing on the paper target, the girl kept both eyes open as she aimed, the energy flying out of her hand and into the center of the target.
"I did it!" Wanda smiled, looking to Nat, who gave a nod of approval. "Nice job, Maximoff. But what about moving targets?" Nat arched her brow, pressing a button on a controller that sent the papers spinning slowly.
"There are three levels. This one, medium, and hard. If you can get all of the papers down, and I mean all, then I'll let you go."
"That sounds simple enough." Wanda shrugged, a few flashes of crimson light hitting the middle of three paper targets.
After a few minutes of target abuse, Nat smugly pressed the button, the new targets whirling around faster than before. Wanda quickly blasted through them, prompting Nat to press the button one last time.
Wanda paused, trying to focus her eyes on at least one of the fast-moving targets as Nat crossed her arms, trying to figure out Wanda's plan.
"Maximoff, remember, you have two hands! Don't focus both of them on one target!"
Wanda nodded, balls of scarlet red flying around to the targets. Of course, the young girl missed a few, leaving a few holes left in the wall, which caused the brunette to let out a sigh.
"It's ok. No one expects you to hit all of them first try. Only the Red Room does that." Nat quipped in her monotone voice while smirking at Wanda's quizzical look.
Although Natasha was supposed to be heartless, she still liked to make dark jokes about her trauma to make other people uncomfortable.
Wanda gave a stiff chuckle, nodding as the vermillion colored wisps around her hands slowly faded away. The spy looked amused at the girl's reaction, but alas, her amusement didn't last for long, because her phone began to lightly buzz in her hand, Nat going to check it.
It had been a call from Steve, which meant that something was terribly wrong. Steve never used his cellular device; he would rather talk to a person in the real world as opposed to a screen. But for him to call Nat?
