Wandas POV

I don't understand how you can go your whole life not knowing of someone's existence, but once you know of them, it's like you can never fully run away.

Because for some damn reason, no matter how much I don't want to see Alex and no matter how much she hates me, we still seem to cross paths.

And I can't avoid it.

I've been working and living here for years now and I've never seen her before. And I would know those blue eyes. I would. You would. Anybody would. They're a defining feature.

And yet, since that first day when she saved me by risking her life to go into that building and carrying me out, it just seems like I can't go enough weeks in between seeing her again.

It's like some horrible magnetic pull. We can be on opposing sides but every once in awhile we line up just right to be pulled right back to each other.

And all of this is running through my head as I'm here with the team trying to help pick up after a terrible fire broke out.

Sometimes it's not just about saving people but helping them rebuild, too.

Tony said we'd help.

And it's literally just my luck that Alex and her team were here on site when everything was in flames and now they're also helping clean up.

So far all I've gotten from her was a confirmation that she was here. And it wasn't verbal. I just saw her eyes as she talked to someone else.

She has been skillfully avoiding all of the avengers like we're Medusa and if she even chances a glance in our direction, she'll turn to stone.

It stings a little. But at the same time it helps.

Helps me not have to talk to her. And ignore the fact that we know each other.

No need to draw attention to it at this point.

I just want to help clean up and get back to the compound and away from this situation as fast as I can.

Thanks to my powers, it's easy to stay busy and not talk to people. I can also move a shit ton of stuff at once, practically doing all of the heavy lifting. Not to brag. I just want to get out of here.

Because, for some crazy reason, I just have this feeling that I'm going to have to talk to her before we leave. Like I'm not in charge of what's going to happen to me next; like someone else is writing my fate. Weaving our stories for some yet to be determined reason. But I want to avoid it.

I do.

The last thing I want is to..

"Oh shit. I'm sorry."

A huff, "yeah. Sure you are."

I really didn't see her there, though. Obviously I'm so lost in my head I'm not truly paying attention.

She brushes past me and over to the garbage bin to dump more in.

If that was all of the contact I was worried we'd have, then fine.

I brush off her rudeness and try to refocus on cleaning up the block, using some of my powers to grab a large chunk of the once tall brick building and placing it in another bin.

"I know you're trying to show off, but it's really not becoming of you," her words cut through the air sending a shiver down my spine.

She really will take any opportunity to tear me down, won't she?

Well, not today.

I whip around to face her, meeting her steal gaze and unimpressed stance.

But damn, does she look good in her uniform. I will give her that. The smudges of dirt on her face somehow bringing out her eyes even more than normal.

"You know, some of us are here to help. Some of us are trying to do some good here."

She scoffs, something I find she very much likes to do, "I'm sure you are. And what do you think it is I'm doing?" Her condescending tone has my blood boiling.

"Yes. You're doing your job. Just like me," I say through gritted teeth.

She laughs. That.. maniacal laugh that freezes my bones.

"Your job, huh?" She steps closer to me, and her close presence has me shrinking back, only causing her to smirk. "You aren't fooling me, princess. If you aren't showing off then it's only because you want to get out of here as soon as possible. Already sick of helping out when it isn't beneficial to you?"

I hate it. I hate that she can some how read me so easily. And it's taking everything in me not to throw her into the remaining wall of the building or at least read her damn mind.

Then words just come out of my mouth like they're trying to escape prison and they just found the key to their cell.

"The only reason I'm trying to get out of here quickly was so I didn't have to deal with you," I grit out, forcing my voice to remain as even as I possibly can.

She somehow thinks it's best to step closer, only furthering my discomfort. Okay, maybe discomfort isn't the right word..

"Yeah? And how's that working out for you?" She crosses her arms.

"It was working just fine until you couldn't mind your own damn business and had to comment on how I'm working."

"My business is this city. I have a duty to help this city and the people in it. That's MY job. I'm here to save the people. I know the people. I am the people. Unlike your band of misfits that live in your pretty little mansion and wait for the best time to make an entrance, we actually show up to help, to make a difference, not to make things worse and then leave."

There's about a thousand comments I could make about how they have to deal with traffic or how she's only there for her own confidence boost. Or even about all of the millions of lives we've helped save; how we also put our lives on the line for the people all over the world and beyond, something she couldn't do.

None of which would help the situation at all. Nor are they all truly how I feel.

But none of them find their way out, anyway. Apparently they're all behind their bars again, serving their sentence.

And even if I did find some great remark to say back, I wouldn't have the opportunity. There's another persons presence that stops all of the words, but none of the heat.

No, that's still getting flamed, the heat only rising as we match our stares.

They clear their throat, "is there a problem here, Lieutenant?"

Her posture changes, straightens, her blue eyes still ice.

"No, captain. We were just discussing the best ways to clean the block, sir."

Yeah. Sure. I guess you could say that.

"Good. Then I suggest you put those theories into action."

"Yes, sir," she keeps her stare for a moment longer as she starts to walk away, but soon enough disappears back to the rubble.

I realize I watched her walk away the whole time and that her captain never left.

I blush a little at the fact that she caught me, but make no noise for an excuse. I just walk away in a different direction with the same goal of getting the hell out of here.

I did steal a few glances at her as we worked. Her moving brick or clearing lines. Her helping a lady find her way around the rubble.

I have to keep bringing myself back to the task at hand and not worry about her.

Thankfully we're able to clean up rather quickly and get the hell out of there. Tony and Steve talked to the captain and Alex before we left, shaking hands with them, even.

And I can't help but smirk, no, take absolute joy, out of the idea of Alex having to shake hands and thank the very people she despises.

It's the kind of thing that can make a persons day.

In fact, it's what keeps the smile on my face as we get in the jet and find our way back to the compound.

It stays as I take a shower, letting all of the dirt from today be washed down the drain.

It's still there as we grab Thai take out that Tony ordered for us after a good days worth of work.

It helps me crack jokes with the team and enjoy the movie that we watched in the theater room.

It was still keeping my smile there as I got to my room and settled into my very own bed.

But that smile was wiped clean off by the fact that Alex is right.

Maybe the tv crew wasn't there today.

Maybe there wasn't a crowd of people cheering for us.

Maybe there wasn't a huge alien army to fight off.

Maybe we won't get credit for it.

But that's the type of environment Alex works in everyday. That is her job. And the many firefighters like her.

Tony had us go and assist because we were free today and it was 'good to get out.'

And then we still came back to our little palace and nice food, cozy beds. Back to the place where we can leave the days worries behind.

Where the outside world doesn't seem to perforate our happy little bubble.