Escaping Maximoff

Maneater

"Hi, I'd like to see my father."

The woman at the desk looked up at me with utmost disdain. Her glasses slid down her nose as she let out a deep sigh, her actions letting me know I was a massive nuisance to her obviously very busy schedule.

"Name."

"Y/n Hayward," I lied, leaning against the desk and lowering my voice as if my identity were a secret.

At the mention of her boss, she was quick to drop her magazine and straighten her spectacles. Her tone changed from utter boredom to both intrigue and fear.

"Do you have a meeting?" She asked, her fingers flying across the keyboard, producing an aggressive clicking that sent shivers down my spine.

"Look, I don't know if you're aware, but my dear father, Director Hayward, is a very busy man. He's also exceptionally impatient, so it's probably best for both of us that we don't keep him waiting. Besides, the quicker you let us through, the more likely I am to compliment your outstanding receptionist skills to my dad."

The woman nodded quickly, her tight bun loosening with the force; a few strands of hair fell, framing her sharp cheekbones and clenched jaw.

"Of course. Here are your passes; they give you level 5 entry."

"Thank you." I smiled, taking the four lanyards from her perfectly manicured fingers. How she was able to type with such long nails was a mystery to me.

"I feel so important," Sam whispered in my ear, holding his pass proudly and flashing it at any unfortunate soul who passed by.

We had just made it to the elevator when the woman called out to us, capturing the attention of everyone else in the lobby.

"My name's Sharon!"

I gave her a thumbs up and flashed an awkward smile as the doors closed, trying hard to not cry from the sudden attention. I can't help it – people scare me!

Ryan scanned his pass and pressed a random button, shrugging at us afterward.

"We've gotta start somewhere."

"Did you just press floor 6 because it's your favourite number?" Tristan asked, poking his brother in the ribs as the elevator moved up.

"No, it was calling to me."

"Unlike Christie," his twin snorted, earning a small shove from the brunet.

"Hey, she said she'd go on a date with me."

"Sure she–"

"Guys, shut up," I hissed, glaring at the sheepish boys as the doors opened, revealing a row of neatly organised labs and bustling scientists.

"This must be a research wing or something," Sam said softly, stepping out of the elevator to get a better look. "Do you think she'd be here?"

I bit my lip, thinking for a second before replying, "No, but I think I know someone who will."

Strolling down the corridor gained us a few weird looks, but with the lanyards, we were unstoppable! (They really shouldn't just hand those out to anyone).

We found her hunched over a microscope, glasses almost slipping off her face as her lips pursed in concentration. Her office was filled with conical flasks brimming with swirling liquids, shimmering reds and purples that possessed a mystical iridescence. Trays of flowering plants were strewn across the room, labelled with neatly written cards, and numerous machines whirred soothingly in the background.

As I stood there, something rubbed against my leg. I looked down to see the most adorable ginger cat purring up at me, its sparkling dark eyes begging for attention.

"Cute cat," I said, holding back a laugh as the dark-haired woman quickly sat up, her face a mixture of shock and confusion at our sudden intrusion. At the sight of her reaching under her desk to hit an obviously conspicuous looking crimson button, I held up my hands, shouting out a quick "Wait!"

She paused her actions, tilting her head at my desperation. Just from her eyes, I could tell that she was an intelligent woman, that she could sense we had information she'd want to hear.

"Go on then, tell me why I should help you," she spoke calmly, unfazed by our presence, as though she had faced way worse during her time as a scientist.

"It might be hard to believe."

She scoffed at my words. "My best friend is dating Thor, and last year I met a witch. Try me."

"Well, Dr Lewis, this is kind of about that witch," I started, giving her a sheepish grin as she motioned for Ryan to close the door.

"Is Wanda okay?" She asked, worry flashing across her face as her cat jumped onto her lap,  curling up into a ball of orange fluff.

"We're not sure. S.W.O.R.D captured her two days ago, and we believe she's here," Sam answered for me, placing a comforting hand on my back.

"They can't have." She shook her head in disbelief.

"Well, they have, and we're here to rescue her."

Darcy looked at me, her glasses doing little to hide the anguish in her eyes. "I don't know how much help I'll be. After Westview, Hayward has kept tabs on me, I don't have as much clearance as I used to."

I stepped forward, frowning as I tried to come up with one of those inspirational speeches you hear in films. Channeling my inner Captain America, I prayed to Thor that what I was about to say would be enough to persuade Darcy to join us.

"Wanda told me about you. She said you were a good person, a hero, despite... you know, the whole hitting Hayward with a truck thing, which is pretty badass if you ask me. We need your help, Wanda needs your help. You have a chance to do something good. Shouldn't you take it?"

"You talk like her," she said finally. "You must be pretty close."

"We are."

She sighed, swivelling in her chair, her fingers twitching before she finally picked up her phone. "There's some people I can call. With their help, we might actually be able to pull this off."

"Thank you," I exhaled, releasing a breath I didn't realise I was holding. Her cat gazed at me wide-eyed, uttering the cutest meow I had ever heard. "Wanda never mentioned anything about a cat."

"Goose is a friend's; I'm looking after him for her while she's away," Darcy replied, dialling a number and putting her phone to her ear.

The rest of us waited in anticipation, hearts racing as we waited to find out what kind of cool superhero she was going to get on our side.