Avengers Oneshots

Poison #ScarlettWidow

A/N this is based off the song Poison by Alice Cooper. The idea is that Natasha is slowly falling in love with Wanda, but doesn't trust her because of Ultron, her missuse of her powers, and her gullibility in general. It's really tearing her up because she doesn't want to get involved incase Wanda betrays her, but she also can't imagine a life without Wanda in it. Sorry if this is terrible. Happy reading :)

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Natasha landed on her bedroom floor with a thump and pried her eyes open. Darkness and the eerie red glow from the clock on the bedside table greeted her. The red aura cast around the room was starting to get creepy so she turned it over, rather more forcefully than she intended as she stood up. Why am I awake?

A beeping sound caught her attention. Could that have woken me? She whipped the dressing gown off the back of the door and tied it firmly around herself. If the tower didn't have smooth laminate flooring she was sure floorboards would be creaking ominously - it was that sort of night.

As she edged down the hall the beeping got louder and she began to suspect more and more that it was nothing dangerous. It was the industrial kind of beep that told you when the clothes dryer had finished running; not the ominous beep of live explosives. The modern timers on those were usually silent anyway.

She repeated these facts to herself as she creeped towards the kitchen. She wasn't scared as such, it was more that she just didn't fancy diffusing a bomb in the middle of the night. Understandable really.

As she turned the corner she was greeted with a flashing red timer. Not again. Please not again. But was greeted by only the coffee machine, undoubtedly left on by Tony, pulling another alnighter with Bruce downstairs. Thank god.

She blinked slowly, trying to clear her mind of the remnants of an adrenaline rush. It was working, but then an image of flames rushed across the back of her brain and her eyes flew open. That's... Interesting. She didn't recognise those flames. Normally if she was remembering an explosion it was just sound - she either wasn't facing it, or was too far away to see it in such detail. She closed her eyes again to coax back the images.

They were few and far between, snap shots. Usually her memory was better than that. As she replayed the scenes like GIFs she found she didn't recognise the scenery. A dream then. The recollection of it was continuously fading, but there seemed to be a lot of blood, and that brought back real memories.

The mug clincked as she pulled it out of the cupboard and the coffee machine made a deafening noise as it ground up the beans. Thank god it didn't wake anyone. The swivel chairs at the kitchen island were hard and unwelcoming. Natasha ignored them. It was rare she paid attention to other people's opinions, so she'd be damned if she was going to take suggestions from a stool.

"I'd really prefer it if you didn't try to sneak up on me. Coffee mugs can do more damage to a human skull than you'd realise," she said.

"How'd you know I was there?"

"The slight shift in air pressure, the faint sound of feet on wood and the scrapping of your cardigan against the wall," Natasha replied.

"Really?"

"No. You have incredibly loud foot steps and we have laminate floors," she twisted around on the stool to meet Wanda with a grin, "the cardigan was a guess based on your usual nightwear."

Wanda chuckled as she shuffled over to the coffee machine, clock still flashing. The open weave cardigan was wrapped around her and she stumbled slightly when reaching for a mug, her slightly-too-long pyjamas catching under her feet.