Several Nightcaps Later // WandaNat Bartender AU

1

"What'll it be?" Wanda asked, setting down the glass she was cleaning to take the order of a woman who looked like she needed a drink or two.

"Whiskey. Neat." Rasped the woman, sitting down on one of the rickety stools. Well, sitting wasn't really the word Wanda had in mind. It was more like the woman's legs gave out and the stool just happened to catch her.

Wanda took a long look at the woman. Her red hair was pulled up into a messy ponytail, a few strands sticking out like someone rubbed her head with a balloon. Deep, sprawling bruises covered what little exposed skin Wanda could see, and a crudely stitched up gash sat above her left eyebrow. The woman caught Wanda examining her, and the intense stare in return caused Wanda to avert her curious eyes.

In her days as a bartender, Wanda had met some wacky characters. Truckers with southern accents as thick as molasses, renaissance fair goers in full uniform, and scariest of all, theater troupes. Once actors had a few rounds in them, it was difficult to keep them from using tables and countertops as stages.

That was the best part of bartending, in Wanda's opinion. Not the actors, or the brawling men, or the gymnastics conventions that always rolled through town, but the people. The individuals, really. The lone travelers who tumbled into her bar, the ones who always had stories but never enough time to tell them. It made the time with each patron special, because once they were gone, they were gone, like a leaf in the wind.

But in all her years of bartending, this woman might have been the most interesting. This was the third night in a row she'd come into the bottom floor hotel bar looking haggard and roughed up, and while Wanda was intrigued, she was also a bit worried.

"Let me guess," Wanda ventured, testing the waters. "Professional wrestler?" The woman barely even looked up. Wanda tried once more. "Stunt double."

The response this time was an eyebrow quirk of 'eh, not a bad guess'. Encouraged, Wanda offered a cocky smile.

"Chuck-e-cheese mascot?"

Finally, the silent woman gave the slightest hint of a smile. To Wanda, this was a win. But to her surprise, the woman spoke.

"Close."

"She speaks," Wanda teased, rolling up the sleeves of her Henley to start on the woman's drink.

As usual, the woman spoke no more. Wanda made her usual beverage of choice and set it down in front of her. The redhead at the bar went to put a crisp twenty on the counter in payment, but the bartender refused.

"No need for that tonight. You look like you could use a drink on the house. Or twenty." Wanda eyed the sutured cut on her forehead. "Plus, the hundred you gave me yesterday covers it."

The woman nodded in acknowledgement, then downed the drink in one swig. In one smooth motion, she shrugged on her vest and stood to leave, the rickety stool creaking. But before she could exit the lounge, Wanda called out.

"Hey," the bartender said. The woman paused. "My bar has rules, you know. If you're gonna be a regular, you gotta at least tell me your name."

Wanda thought there was no way in hell the stoic woman would give out her name, but to her surprise, and great pleasure, the woman turned on one heel and responded, "Natasha."

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Just a little intro. I've had this idea for so, so long. I've finally found the right ship for it. Wanda and Nat are my favs and I wanted to try my hand at writing for them.

Thanks for any support.