still friends

Chapter 10: The Best Holiday

December 25th, 2027

Well then, tell me what's so important about today's date!

Bucky didn't know what to make of any of the information he had just consumed. He had read multiple sites, multiple accounts, read and reread files. He had even found some of the video broadcasts that had been documented of Wanda's perfect life in Westview. She was married, to Vision of course, but a Vision that worked at a desk and had a mop of blonde hair, and had two twin boys, Billy and Tommy. They looked semi like her; button nose, dark hair. One moment they had been infants, the next moment, young teens.

But it hadn't been so perfect.

She'd accidently controlled the town, a population of people enslaved to her will, and she didn't even know it.

Originally.

But then when she did find out what she was doing, and was approached by SWORD, she'd threatened them. Told them to leave her and her family alone or there would be consequences.

It's such an opposite of the woman he knows, the Wanda in the files seemed like a stranger to him.

And then there was the matter of Vision. After dismembering him, they put him back together but it wasn't him. It was a new, sleeker and colder version of the synthazoid they all had known. And apparently he was still out there, doing god knows what.

Bucky thinks about the files all day.

She hadn't known she was hurting the people, right? And ultimately, she let them go, been apologetic as hell. Had ostracized herself, and accepted that she could not have her family.

Bucky is due to leave the day after Christmas, but be back in time for new years. Something about old hydra tech that had been dug up in Arizona. He debates asking to be postponed, for them to send someone else. He broaches the topic with her as she cooks Christmas eve dinner.

"I might apply for an extension."

She doesn't stop her movement, stirring the contents with several bowls as she flicks her wrist. Moving her fingers, the stove turns on by itself.

"For what?" She questions, opening the fridge. He shrugs, leaning against the counter, arms crossed.

"Dunno," he drawls. "Thought it might be nice to spend new years with ya." Her gaze shifts from the fridge to him, giving him a side glance.

"New Years?" Reaching inside, she grabs the milk carton, closing the fridge with a flick of her wrist. "That's hardly an important holiday."

He rolls his eyes. "It doesn't have to be an important holiday for me to want to spend time with you."

She's blushing, unscrewing the lid on the carton as he gives her one of his charmer smiles.

"You're too smooth, soldier," she laughs, pouring in the milk. He strides up behind her, arms looping around her waist and rests his cheek atop her hair. "It's ok, go work. I'll be waiting when you get home."

He could forgive Westview. What he couldn't do was give her up. He had questions, concerns that maybe he wasn't enough for her, but as he inhaled her shampoo, he swallowed his despues.

"How long does that have to be in the oven for?" He asks, dropping his arms so she can move. Picking up two trays, she juts her chin, and the oven door flops open with a clange.

"Mmmm this one for about an hour, and this one for about an hour and forty." She says, peering at the recipe she'd scribbled on the notepad that laid open. "and then the potatoes can stay in as long as they want."