The Waltz

A bright blue star appeared in the horizon and America gave a sly smile against Wanda.

"Aha," she said.

With far too open eyes Wanda shook her head, "Mhm."

That foolish girl.

A smile, too unnatural appeared on her face.

America fairly new with her newfound powers punched with confidence. It gave much more power than she no both of them thought. Wanda's head snapped back, America punched again and gave a kick of good measure. The red (dyed) haired woman lost balance she stepped back, the sole of her feet lost touch with the rocky hard ground.

Stone crumbled beneath her feet and fell to the ground, the back of her body was met with a fiery landscape that was full with volcano's and lava. It was hot and if she stayed any longer she would be drenched in sweat. Wanda, pumped with adrenaline looked at the ground and suddenly she got her balance back. She looked through her eyelashes at America that shot a punch.

Wrong, a very wrong move.

Instead of letting herself get beat she stopped the punch from happening, red swirled around her hand. Her black fingers contrasted with her power. America's expression dropped from a triumphant look to a fearful one. Wanda gave a small smile of satisfaction in seeing her frightened, but the girl with the striped jacket didn't lose hope and she lunged one more at the witch.

"I'm going to give you what you want," she spat out.

Wanda's jaw flew backwards and she flared her nose in anger, she strechted out her arm and grabbed America's throat. America opened a portal again and the both of them found themselves in a decayed house.

The wallpapers were curling up and tearing apart, the wooden floor was damp from the draft that hung heavy in the air. If you turned your nose up, you already could smell that no one was here for a long time and we are not even talking about the heavy dust on the furniture.

The estatic buzzing of a broken television snapped Wanda out it, "What have you done?" she hissed to that little wrench.

A characteristic tingle erupted in Wanda's head.

Both of them were in colour, with the blue frame of the portal springing out of the black and white room. Wanda looked at her hands.

A soft gasp escaped her lips, she was back in her home.

Her green eyes teared up and her grasp on America's neck became lighter. A small but hopeful smile grazed on her face and America escaped from her grasp, clasping her hands around her heart she looked more into the room.

America sensing this was her only moment to escape, took it and stepped inside her portal, trapping Wanda in her home. She didn't notice, she had only eye for the room that she was in and ofcourse her husband who sat proudly in his chair.

"Vision," she said, hoping for something back. He looked so happy with the small smile on his face, probably because he saw Wanda again.

But he didn't said anything back.

"I-I know, you don't have to say anything back. But I'm just-I'm just so happy that we are reunited, again." She stepped towards him, slowly turning her head around taking the space up.

"Don't you?"

"Vision!" she snapped at him, her eyes wide open in fury.

There was the audience in her head again that gave pitiful mumbles.

His body slumped in the chair, he stared lifeless ahead, a regretful stutter came out of Wanda's mouth. "I didn't mean it, I didn't mean to snap like that. I will never hurt you, I'm your wife."

She cupped his head and enveloped him in a hug, "I'm your wife," she repeated. "And my job is to protect you, always, no matter what."

With the flick of her hand she turned on the radio, the soft notes floating in the air. "I think it's time for a dance, don't you?"

The red of her powers hugged the body of him and he floated out of the chair, only stopping mere centimeters before Wanda's face. She smiled again, only a bit to wide for anybody's liking. She put her left hand on his shoulder and 'Vision' put his arm on her back, she enclasped both of their hands and she gave a content humm.

She began slowly waltzing, the corpse leaning on her with his full weight but it didn't bother her. For a minute of two she was swaying on the rythm on the slow sound of the classical music lulling in the living room, but when the music became faster so did they.

She danced so wildly, she didn't even care that she knocked of some of the vases on the ground or the clay splinters in her feet.

She felt complete again, she finally has him back in her arms. The song had ended and she stroked his cheek, "I love you dear Vision," she hold him tightly for quite some time.

Wanda ploffed with a sense of grace on the couch with the Vision cradling against her, red swirled around his head to set it in the right place. The bash in his head was prominent now, but she didn't see it or she looked past it. Cocking her head to the side, her temple was on his. She gave a light kiss on his cheek before she looked away, right in the broken television with him, her husband.

All was well.