On The Run

The meeting

Scott's birthday dawned bright and sunny, without a single cloud in the sky. The temperature was perfect-warm, but not hot; perfect for a day of sightseeing. Everyone was up early, excitedly performing the last minute preparations-the contacts, the clothing changes, the last few hasty run throughs with new accents. Vision's disguise was a smashing success; by simply placing the small piece of plastic on the base of his neck, he was able to transform from his usual android self to a tall man with jet black hair and thoughtful blue eyes who wouldn't have looked out of place on the cover of one of the airbrushed beauty catalogues Wanda was so used to seeing in the checkout aisles at grocery stores. By the time the sun rose they were outside, relishing in the fresh air on their skin for the first time in weeks-Scott looked like he was going to cry, new Mets baseball cap pulled down low across his face in case anyone was observant enough to look past the buzz cut.

Wanda didn't think the city had ever looked so beautiful; it was even more wonderful than the first time she'd seen it in her first steps off the helicarrier a year ago. It was a city of movers and shakers, of new ideas and old fancies, and-ridiculous as it seemed-it was her home too.

The day was sheer perfection-they walked Fifth Avenue in the morning, stopping in whatever stores caught their fancy to take even more money off of Tony's extravagant bank account; strolled in Central Park for a while before it got too sunny-everyone rode the carousel twice, even Natasha, who'd stated again and again that she wouldn't get within a ten mile radius of the thing but changed her mind when it was actually time for Steve to buy the tickets-attended a (super quick) mass at St. Patrick's Cathedral per Steve's request, and ate dinner at an extremely fancy restaurant Scott had picked out (because he had money to blow for apparently the first time in his life) weighed down with their shopping bags and seemingly incapable of stopping themselves from laughing. Every little thing seemed funny-Sam's offhanded comment that the tiramisu Scott ordered for dessert seemed just the slightest bit lopsided and the video Clint found online of cats getting brain freeze. She supposed it was just the simple joys of being alive-and, for one day at least, not worrying about how they would survive the next day without either being arrested or going completely insane from lack of fresh air.

Hesitantly, she reached up and touched her hair-which had been twisted into a neat updo by Natasha because apparently no one in the entire world had seen Wanda Maximoff with her hair up-or with blue contacts. She kept thinking it was going to fall out but apparently the hair spray the ex assassin had used was industrial strength; her hair wasn't going anywhere.

"You look very nice today, Wanda," Vision said as they strolled down Fifth Avenue on their way home. The sun had just gone down and she imagined the stars coming out among the smog; shining down on Lila, Cooper, Nathaniel, and Cassie perhaps-far away from the prying eyes of the United Nations and anyone else who wanted to hurt them.

She couldn't help blushing, even as her hands went back to her sides, "That's very sweet, but I really don't think-"

She was spared from having to answer further because Sam interrupted with a "There's a grocery store over there. We could go see if they have anything for tomorrow morning." This was a reasonable enough suggestion; everyone was craving doughnuts.

Of course, as soon as everyone saw the abundance of foods available for purchase all bets were off. Scott threw three bags of potato chips in the back of the cart, Natasha grabbed a watermelon (because apparently someone had to be thinking healthy), and Bucky and Sam argued over which box of cookies they should pick up in the bakery section.

"Anything you want," Steve asked Wanda, glancing with mild amusement at their rapidly filling cart. "As long as it doesn't need to be heated up or kept cold, that is."

"I'll get cereals," She knew everyone's favorites by now; she hurried off to pick them out while Steve went to break up the dessert battle.

The row of brightly colored boxes covered almost an entire wall of shelving and she couldn't help smiling as she looked at all the choices: Cheerios and its many various subsidies, Special K, Lucky Charms, and dozens of other cereals she'd never heard of before but were likely filled with sugar. She grabbed a couple of boxes of Cheerios for the majority and something called Cookie Crisps for Sam and Scott, who liked to experiment-and then grabbed one more Cheerio box, just in case. She couldn't remember a time she'd been happier; certainly not since they'd come back to the city, certainly, but it just felt nice to be able to stand in the middle of the grocery store covered in fluorescent lighting and not have to worry about being caught, arrested, or recognized. It was a small thing to be sure, but no less welcome.