Soooo…..not terribly happy with how this turned out. But here it is. Suggestions for improvement welcome, but please be nice.

Don't own the Avengers.

SSS

It was nearly three in the morning when Wanda reached the building that housed her little flat, and she paused in the little pool of light cast by the lamp above the door, shoulders slumped with relief and exhaustion as she began digging in her coat pocket for her keys. She'd been working at a pub for the past two months, waiting tables and tending bar under the name Summer Barton. Tonight she'd worked a double shift, her second this week, and now she wanted nothing more than to fall into bed and sleep for as many hours as she'd just spent working. Tomorrow, she would check in with Steve and Tasha, and make sure they'd gotten back okay from...wherever they'd gone. She was too tired to remember.

Shaking her keys free of the fraying lining of her pocket, she managed to separate the correct one from amidst the jingling keychains and insert it into the lock when she felt it. Another epresence hovered just outside the illuminated semicircle, brushing against her mind in a way that was quietly familiar. It felt almost contradictory to her- cool and detached, yet buzzing and intense. The way he had always felt.

For a fraction of a breath, she hesitated. Then she turned slowly, keeping one hand on the doorknob, and stared into the dark.

"Vis?"

He shouldn't be here. He wasn't supposed to know where she was. Was he here to capture her? To take her back to the Raft? By law, by his own choice, he must be. But there was no trace of such intentions in the swirl of thoughts she could feel.

"Where are you?" She didn't shout; instead, the words came out in little more than a murmur.

She felt him pause, almost as though he were nervous. And then a figure stepped slowly into the light.

"Hello, Wanda." he murmured, and the soft, familiar sound of his voice sent a shiver down her spine, the information it gave her for a moment at odds with what she saw. Because it was him. She knew. She could feel him. But...

He looked...different. Gone was the burnished red of his skin, the gold cape, the unnaturally colored eyes. The man before her looked...human. His flesh was light, almost as pale as hers, and a shock of short blonde hair covered his scalp. The form-fitted green suit had been replaced with artfully faded black jeans and a dark blue hoodie.

"Vis?"

She hadn't even realized she'd closed the space between them until she found her fingers grazing his face, tracing lines of cheek and jaw that were familiar despite their foreign appearance. He didn't move, but his eyes closed at the almost caress. His blue, human eyes.

"I...I wanted…" he whispered, and his head tilted ever so slightly into her touch.

"You look," she began at the same time, and for a moment they both fell silent, unsure what else to say. Then his eyes flicked open, searching her face with a hunger she'd only ever seen in him.

"I wanted...to talk." he finished at last, the words a poor summation of the emotion she could feel roiling through him. His own hand rose tentatively to cover hers where it rested against his cheek. His touch felt the same as it always had. Cool. Smooth. So gentle. She almost laughed. Almost told him that she'd missed him.

Instead, she lifted her other hand to cradle his face, and pulled his head down so that she could press her forehead to his. She could feel the Mindstone's gentle thrum humming in tandem with Vision's own being, like a reassuring heartbeat.

"Come in?" she whispered, and his whole body relaxed, tension bleeding from him as though he'd braced for her rejection, expected to be turned away. For being on the wrong side? For his new face? She couldn't tell. She really didn't care.

"I missed you."