Epilogue

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The sound of sizzling bacon, the melodic chirps of birds outside the window, sunlight pouring in, satin sheets surrounding her with warmth. For the last few months, this is how Wanda woke up. Easily, weightlessly. Natasha would bring her coffee or bacon in bed or beckon her to the kitchen, where there was always a warm breakfast waiting. The perks of dating an early riser, she supposed.

Some days, when her injury flared back up, or memories of her bloodstained hands plagued her dreams, Wanda wouldn't get out of bed at all. Her lover would join her, unspeaking, stoic, a shelter in the storm. Those days became fewer and fewer as it had been almost ten months since Wanda was shot, but it always felt like it had happened yesterday.

Now, the two lived together in a small loft in the city. It wasn't much, but it was home. A quaint kitchen with enough room for Wanda to bake and for Natasha to cook, a living room that housed a small television, cozy couch, and a keyboard Natasha was trying to learn. Their bedroom was just large enough for a queen sized bed and a few plants. Wanda hoped for a cat someday soon.

Wanda had returned to work a few months ago, back to her bartending ways. Natasha advised that the familiarity would be good for her recovery, and annoyingly, she was right. Pour, polish, repeat. But it wasn't so bad. The quiet nights were good for reflection; the rowdier crowds uplifting for her spirits.

As for Natasha, in order to care for Wanda, and really, herself, she took a leave of absence from SHIELD. Director Fury wasn't happy about it, but when Natasha Romanoff made up her mind on something, there was very little one could do to convince her otherwise. Theoretically, she could return whenever she wished, though for right now, there was no place she'd rather be than at Wanda's side.

So, now, the two spent their days in domestic bliss, sharing meals, swapping stories, watching movies (Natasha was surprisingly into chick flicks, Wanda preferred action). They would try to bake whatever Wanda found on Pinterest, they would run errands together, they would just coexist. Then, when night fell, and Wanda went off to tend the bar, Natasha would often research scholarships for Wanda, or call Clint, or keep tabs on the happenings at SHIELD. Sometimes, though, if Wanda had been having a rough week, the spy would surprise her at work, ordering a nightcap as she always did when she first met Wanda.

The two were truly happy, but they both sometimes wondered if the other wanted more. Wanda worried of Natasha's boredom, though she knew it was silly, as Natasha could return to SHIELD at any time. Natasha said over and over that she was content living a simple life, but her wistful and thoughtful expressions every time a police drama came onto their small television didn't go unnoticed by Wanda. The spy fretted over Wanda's loneliness, over her reluctance to be with someone like her, someone dangerous. But in the end, Natasha thought, things worked out. They may not have gotten everything they wanted, but they had all they needed.

One day, when Natasha came home from running errands, she found Wanda, shirt raised and expression blank, examining her scar in the mirror.

"You alright, Wanda?" Natasha asked gently, putting down her grocery bags.

Wanda nodded. "It's just... worse than I thought it'd be. Deeper."

Natasha made her way to the other woman, hugging her from behind, fingers gently tracing the scar. "It doesn't look bad at all."

"You have to say that, you're my girl."

"I don't have to say anything, love."

"I know that. You were basically mute when we first met."

"When we first met," Natasha chuckled. "If you could go back and do it all again, would you change anything?"

Wanda turned in Natasha's arms. "Not a single thing. I'd still talk to the beautiful spy that came into my bar, I'd still wipe off the blood on her eyebrow," Wanda's fingers danced over Natasha's own scar. "Still go on a date with her, fall in love with her..."

"I wouldn't change anything either. I'd keep going back to that charming, thoughtful bartender. I'd still take her on my motorcycle, and fall in love too." Natasha kissed Wanda sweetly. "Did you ever think we'd end up here?"

Wanda rested her head on Natasha's shoulder, still in the embrace, almost swaying back and forth to nonexistent music. "Not in a million years. But here we are, several nightcaps later, right where we should be."

Several Nightcaps Later // WandaNat Bartender AUWhere stories live. Discover now