So I watched Avengers: Age of Ultron a few days ago (Again. First in English, then in German. I'll stick with the original, thanks a lot.) and was like: I want to write a fanfic, but have no idea what it should be about. (Also, I should be working on what feels like my life's work, the Hellsing fic Renegade. xD) Fortunately I had an idea after all, and this came out. It's my very first Marvel fanfic ever, but I'm quite happy how it turned out.

For now just a one shot, unless I get any other good ideas.

Have fun and tell me your opinion if you like. If you find mistakes, feel free to point them out.

Nightmares

You had had a crush on Pietro Maximoff, called Quicksilver, ever since you accidentally saved his life in Sokovia. It had been a coincidence, really, he running into you, if not a surprise. You tended to be overlooked very easily. He had sped to rescue Hawkeye and a child. You ended up smashing into them, just out of range of Ultron's bullets. It was a miracle you weren't dead, like always.

Just seconds later, a slightly hysterical Wanda Maximoff had appeared, probably having sensed her brother in danger, and fending off the rest of the attack.

He had given you a cute smile, though somewhat confused. Damn, he was even more handsome than in the files, you had thought. Silver-blond hair, a stubble and those blue eyes. He had been busy hugging his sister, but thanked you and asked jokingly if you would like to go out on a drink some time.

Then Wanda had stabbed you with her eyes.

That had been a week ago. Since then you were buried in files. Like always. You weren't even a field agent. It had all been a gigantic stupid coincidence. Of course you were trained in hand-to-hand combat and shooting. That was standard for every agent. But you had no special talent and had barely managed to get through the training. Unless you called an overactive imagination, love for stories and a good memory a talent. Even SHIELD needed people to do the boring stuff. You were doing your part in saving the world, you always told yourself. Even if it just was redigitalizing everything Ultron had deleted. Blessed be the paper-and-ink copies.

Funny enough, you were maybe one of the best informed persons in all of SHIELD. Once read, next to everything was engraved in your brain. All those files told a story and you never forgot a good story. The Winter Soldier, Budapest, Loki, Eric Selvig, Phil Coulson, HYDRA and their illegal experiments. Everything in the files about the Avengers. Clint, Nat, Thor, Steve, Tony, Bruce. For you it was natural to call them by first name. You knew them better than they knew each other and they didn't even know of your existence. But that was fine. Or so you had thought so far. You had been content to stay in your office, out of sight, out of danger.

Sometimes you wished you could use all of this for writing a book. You had a few short stories already, but of course you could never publish them. You didn't even dare show them to anyone. Fury would never allow it. He'd have them deleted. And then not even you could read them from time to time.

So when you ran into Quicksilver, you knew exactly who he was.

You were startled out of your thoughts when somebody spoke up directly in front of you.

"(f/n) (l/n)?"

Your head shot up. "Yes?" Then you were out of words for a moment. Because standing in front of you was Steve Rogers, or Captain America. The Cap. Here. At your desk.

Why?

He frowned. "You alright? You seem a bit pale."

You jumped to your feet, trying to order your no doubt chaotic hair. "Uhm... uh... no, Sir. How can I help you?", you stuttered. Great. Now you looked like an idiot who couldn't even form a sentence.

"Fury wants to see you. Really, I'd swear I went past this desk three times. Were you away for a break or something?"

You laughed nervously and tried to get out behind the chaos of your work place. "No, I just get overlooked easily. I mean... behind those stacks and all. Eeek!" You let out an undignified squeak.

"Hey, there, careful." Steve caught you before you fell. After a moment you regained your balance and could free your feet from the cable that had tangled around your feet. You felt your face burn in embarrassment and quickly looked away.

He walked you down the corridor, out of the filing department in main quarters. You could hear excited chatter and whispers. Every female had a crush on one or more of the active agents and especially the Avengers. The males in turn fancied Black Widow, for obvious reasons. You thought the boys looked all really hot, but you wouldn't say you had a crush. You knew them too well for that. You weren't in for groupie bullshit. All you had for them was a deep admiration.

Everybody they passed craned their neck after you. You would be besieged for weeks after this. If you weren't fired or relocated to the farthest corner of the world. It was safe to say Sokovia had been the trigger, but if Fury knew about your writing hobby that wouldn't have made it better. You knew too much to be just fired, unless they erased your memory. That struck you as quite unfair after all that had happened, but you were loyal to SHIELD, and would take your punishment, whatever it would be. You had expected it anyway.

About one and a half week ago, SHIELD got fully reactivated, along with the Helicarrier. Fury needed personnel to evacuate Sokovia. You had been out for a break when you got caught in a rush you didn't know where it went. Then you were in the middle of all these field agents, the technicians of the Carrier, and were preparing for an assault on Ultron's army. At first you had desperately wanted to tell somebody in charge you weren't supposed to be here, you were just from filing, feeling like an intruder, a fraud. But in all the chaos you didn't want to bother anyone.

Nobody paid attention to you. You were grouped together with some others and put onto the rescue ships. And when you had seen the crumbling city something changed. You didn't want to hide anymore. You wanted to do something. To help, actively, not from a desk. You helped those who were too weak or slow to manage the walk to the ships themselves. You saw their fear, but also relief and hope. When it was announced, after a hard battle with words, the ships were full of people, you had looked around and realized that wasn't it. For some reason you thought there was something else to do. So you sneaked off, unnoticed like always.

The Sokovian streets were deserted. There was literally nobody but a dog that quickly sped off in the direction of the carriers. You were no match to any agent, but by some good luck, you managed to avoid Ultron's drones and even killed two of them, though you weren't sure how you had managed that afterwards. Over the radio, the city was announced empty, except for the Avengers and Ultron. And you of course. Nobody knew about you, of course. You would probably die here and not be remembered. But that was okay. You had done your part. These maybe thirty minutes... they had been the best in your life usually consisting of making up or reading stories. This was your story. You had helped a lot of people.

That didn't mean you had a death wish. This rock was going to go down, and soon. You ran along the rubble-covered streets, not bothering to look for somebody left. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s scanners would do a far better job than you. You could already see the last rescue ship. When this was over, you were probably going to get fired anyway, but whatever.

Then there was Clint, called Hawkeye, running towards a child just climbing from a cellar entrance. Overhead, an automatic gun was rattling, spewing bullets everywhere. You didn't even think about anything, not even something along the lines of "you got to be kidding me". You were the next agent. Hawkeye would be a lot more useful than you in the future. Hey, maybe they would name a building or something after you.

You had almost reached them when Quicksilver slammed into you at full speed. You felt pain shoot through your body and the world spun as all four tumbled into the cellar entrance again. The bullets missed you by inches. Clint had carried the kid, Wanda had been with Pietro all the time, and you somehow managed to drag yourself to the ship. After Wanda had made it clear she didn't want you near her brother, you had retreated to a far corner, and passed out.

When they woke you, the ship was next to empty. They treated your wounds, only minor ones, and after a shower and a night's sleep at home you went back to your regular duties. Nobody seemed to have noticed your absence. You received a few confused questions, but everybody settled with the explanation you had fallen down the stairs. Which, in some way, was completely true.

Not that you had high hopes of getting away. Something like that couldn't be overlooked. So for days, you had just been awaiting your relocation order or at least some rumors.

Having to face the commander himself and being picked up by Steve Rogers was really the last thing you had expected.

Captain America, for God's sake, THE Avenger. The first Avenger.

You left the building. The Quinjet was waiting on the lawn. You stopped dead, your legs suddenly refusing to do their job. Steve only noticed after walking a good fifty feet more.

"We're... going to take the Quinjet?", you asked, trying not to sound like some twelve-year-old groupie.

"Didn't think you were afraid of flying," he said. After staring at him for about ten seconds, you realized that had been a joke.

"Uh, no, I'm.. I'm not." You quickly started walking again and entered the jet. Steve went to the controls. The hatch closed and you felt the jet lift off the ground.

"Take a look around if you want," Steve said. "Your first time, right?"

"Yeah... thanks." So you looked at basically everything there was, from the cupboards, to the technology (you didn't dare touch anything, though), the seats, the board toilet. This thing was even more amazing than everybody said. Slowly, your shock wore off and was replaced by a mixture of worry and excitement. What ever awaited you, you had seen and done enough to justify it. Hell, you were flying in the Quinjet right now, accompanied by a real Avenger!

"We'll be there in three minutes," Steve suddenly announced.

"We'll be where?", you asked, going to the front to have a look out of the window. Then you already saw it. The New Avengers Facility, lead by Fury, Cho, Selvig, and Hill. Your throat became dry. This was so awesome.

The Quinjet set down with barely a sound and the engines died. Steve opened the hatch and stood up. You needed a moment to get yourself to follow.

"Those weren't three minutes," you joked nervously.

Steve smiled. "Yeah, I'm not very good at estimating stuff like that." You couldn't hold his gaze for more than a few seconds. Additionally, you were grinning like an idiot. Wow. Great job.

"Did... Director Fury say why he wants to see me? Seems an awful lot of effort just to fetch someone from filing," you said nervously.

"You'll see." The way he was saying this almost made you think it was all half bad.

You wondered if Pietro was here. Over the last days you somehow had been unable to take your mind off of him and his blue eyes and cute smile and lovely accent.

Then again, if he was here, Wanda would be too. And she had been more than unhappy about the three sentences you had exchanged with Pietro. You didn't want to push your luck. Scarlet Witch could blow your mind to pieces in seconds and you were somewhat too attached to it to risk anything because of some childish crush.

The Facility was brand new and glistening everywhere, at least to your eyes. Nobody paid special attention to you. Steve was greeted from time to time, but nobody acted like that was a big deal. Natasha Romanow, the Black Widow, approached them and greeted Steve. They talked for a few moments until Natasha's gaze fell on you. It took her a second to focus.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't even see you. Natasha Romanow." You shook hands with her.

"I know," you slipped. "Uh... (f/n) (l/n)."

Natasha smiled and turned back to Steve. "So that's her?" He nodded.

"I guess then better don't let Fury wait." She waved goodbye and went back to her own business, whatever that might be.

So that's her? What was that supposed to mean? You got the impression there was more to this than you had initially expected. Steve had already went on and you ran to catch up. It wasn't far. Steve knocked and you entered the director's office. You tried to control your breathing like you had learned. Fury was sitting at his desk and waited.

"Ah, Steve. I was told you were back. Did you find her?"

"Yes, she's right here." He stepped aside to clear the way for you. Even then there was a short pause.

"Ah, Agent (l/n)," Fury said. "Good to have you here. Want a seat, a drink?"

You shook your head, not daring to open your mouth. Fury studied you for a moment. You knew that gaze. People took in how unremarkable you were in every way possible. Sometimes you wondered if your parents knew what eye color you had. Or if they thought about you as often as about your other siblings. Since there were four of them that wasn't very likely. You were good with being alone. You were used to being forgotten, so much you hated being in the center of attention.

Fury opened a file on his desk. "Agent (f/n) (l/n), born in 1988, graduated from high school with an average of A. A's in all subjects at S.H.I.E.L.D. training facility except physical combat. Since 2005 part of the filing department. Clearance level one, yet knows probably more than any of the Level 5 agents." He closed the file. "Loves writing. Good stories, by the way."

You felt yourself go hot and then cold and then hot again until your cheeks were probably as red as Tony Stark's Iron Man suit. So he had read them.

"Tony wasn't happy about how he was depicted, but I think you nailed him quite well. Everybody else too, by the way," Steve remarked. You were frozen in place, otherwise you would have turned and stared at him. The Avengers had read your stories?!

"As interesting as this might be, we're not here to discuss your literary outbursts, Agent (l/n)," Fury interrupted. "You'll have time for that later." Would you? "You were in Sokovia, despite not being a field agent."

Now you were cold again. Fury was scary, despite not looking angry. But his eye seemed to be able to pierce your soul, even more than Wanda's powers. "Sir, if you let me explain, that was all an weird coincidence, I-"

"You saved Pietro Maximoff. He would have died protecting Barton and the kid. So you're partially responsible for saving them as well."

Your mind was completely blank. "Sir, that was... a coincidence. I didn't do anything."

"Let me finish, Agent. Coincidence or not, you were not supposed to be there." You gulped. There you went. "Despite that, you were ready to give your life for people you didn't know. Good job."

...What?

"Thank you, Sir. That's my duty."

Fury watched you calmly, then pressed a button on his desk. "Come to my office, please." You had barely time to wonder who he was talking to when the door opened and Pietro Maximoff stood next to you. He looked around, then recognized you. "Ah, you again. How are you doing?" That accent was killing you. He sounded so damn cute.

"Uhm... good. And you?"

"Not slowing down." He laughed. "I still owe you a drink."

"You two can do that later. Maximoff, tell Agent (l/n) the incident from your perspective," Fury demanded.

Pietro thought about it for a moment. "I saw Clint and the child and thought they'd never make it. So I wanted to save them, I suppose. And all of a sudden she's there." He nodded at you and looked you over again. "I didn't see you. I don't know why. You're just one of the slowpokes, right?"

You needed a moment to understand that was no insult but his view of obviously everyone slower than him. Meaning, everybody on the planet. You shrugged your shoulders. "I get overlooked a lot."

That was not really an explanation, but you had no other. Pietro looked at you. You looked at him. He was wearing loose trousers and a sports jacket, like he had been training. You almost thought to see a bit of sweat on his face. Holy crap, he was handsome. You had always fancied his type. Whatever his type was. Maybe the good looking guys that never looked at you. Well, he was looking at you now and you were staring. Yay for social skills.

"Exactly. You get overlooked a lot," Fury said. He made it sound significant. "Agent (l/n), you will stay here for a while. You'll go right after this and get everything you need."

You stopped staring at the new Avenger and turned back to Fury. "Uhm... Sir, can I ask what this is about?"

"You showed absolute loyalty and bravery in the battle. We're training a new team anyway and somebody so much on the ground like you will be a nice addition."

You could only gape at them. "But... but... I'm not- I'm just from filing. This doesn't make sense. I'll only slow them down."

Fury raised an eyebrow. "That's why Pietro will be your partner. Any objections?"

"No, Sir," you stuttered. "I just don't understand. I only did what had to be done."

Fury sighed. "Of course."

Steve hadn't said anything for quite a while, but now he chuckled. "Did you expect anything else?"

"Alright," Fury said. "You getting overlooked that often? That's not normal. It's a talent. And as you know, we search for talents. Cho and Selvig will have to run a few tests, but nothing horrible."

You nodded, despite not understanding anything. You remembered what you had read about HYDRA's experiments. The only survivors had been the twins. Files were not a picture. You wondered what Pietro had experienced and if he would ever talk about it. Not to you, obviously.

"Go and get your stuff. The new team has it's first meeting this evening," Fury told you. You nodded and followed Steve and Pietro outside. Quicksilver even managed to walk at a normal pace.

Once the door was closed, he turned to you. "So, you pack your stuff and this evening we'll have a drink and chat, da?"

Despite a vague fear of his sister's threat and "chatting" in general, he looked at you so cheerfully you couldn't refuse. "Sounds great."

"Then I'll see you at the meeting." And gone he was, not more than a silver-blue blur.

"So, how does it feel to be an Avenger?", Steve asked. You turned and stared at him blankly, before

following Steve back to the Quinjet, still feeling like an intruder. You were an Avenger. And you had a date. About five minutes ago both had seemed equally unlikely. (And unlikely meant impossible.)

There were three possibilities: You were dead and in heaven. You were dreaming and would soon wake up. Or Wanda was messing with your brain.

No matter which one was true, you were probably in trouble.

The evening

You had been brought back to headquarters from where you had gone home and packed everything you needed: Clothes, a few personal belongings. Suddenly you were incredibly glad having switched to ebooks years ago. Your laptop and notepads went in your bag showing the Avengers-logo. That would turn out awkward, but it was the only one you had and liked. The ones your mother gave to you... rather not. Better appear as a groupie.

After that, you had gone back to your office, packing up everything there. You went alone this time, and nobody noticed you. Having put the two bags in the Quinjet you returned to the New Avengers facility. Steve led you to a side wing.

"Those are the private rooms. Every one has a password and can be decoded by a retina scan. Your choice what you use. Make yourself comfortable, the team meets at seven in the hangar."

"Thank you." Steve carried the bigger of your bags inside for you. The room was not incredibly big, but also not cramped. Considering your flat in an ancient apartment building only had one room more – the kitchen – this was almost luxurious. The far wall was a panorama window.

Steve set down the bag and showed her a remote. He pressed a button and the window went milky.

"You can blacken it for the night, also partially."

"Whoa," you said. "Neat."

"It sure is." He left you alone so you could unpack. Left of the door was another one that led to a small bathroom. On the left wall was a wardrobe where you put all your clothes. Next to it, by the window, was a desk and a chair. The bed was on the right, the head pointed to the window. There was a reading lamp and small box on the wall. Communication system, you supposed.

You set up your laptop and experimented a bit with the window before wondering if you should wear a special kind of clothes. Then you decided your black jeans and the blouse would have to be enough. You just brushed your hair and then decided to work on your latest story.

So Fury had somehow gotten hand on them. The security breach of your notebook should be alarming, but you couldn't do anything about it, so why bother? Much more scary was the thought that the Avengers had read them. There was a lot of fan fiction going around on the Internet, so why hers? You had woken Fury's interest with your involvement in Sokovia, but...

You gave up trying to unravel this mystery. You would get to hear about it anyway, you supposed. If you got to meet the other Avengers. Whoa. What a thought.

Eventually, your excitement faded and you managed to work on the short story you had wanted to finish a week ago. This one wasn't even about the Avengers, but suddenly you found you had involved a character that seemed very much like Pietro. Sighing, you booted down the notebook and checked your phone – now and then your dad texted you, and got offended if you didn't text back immediately despite forgetting all about it for weeks a time. Nothing. The clock showed 6:56 pm.

"Crap!", you gasped. Setting up a password took you two minutes. When you rushed outside you were sure to be late and show everybody you didn't belong here.

Before you could run down the corridor – where the hell was the hangar anyway? - two strong hands caught you and you whirled. Pietro grinned at you. He was wearing a dark blue hoodie that made him look a bit like an older Jack Frost.

"In a rush?"

"Somewhat. You don't have that problem, of course," you said, trying to joke. He laughed.

"We'll be there in... let's say ten seconds."

"What, that slow?", you asked. Then: "What do you mean 'we'?"

He cocked his head. "I don't know if you can take that speed. Now get on or we will really be late." He turned his back to you. After a moment of hesitation you climbed on it, your arms and legs holding tightly to his well-trained body. You buried your face in his neck, smelling some aftershave or whatever. Wind ripped at your clothes and hair and then was gone.

"We're there," Pietro said after a few seconds. You dared to raise your head and met a few very amused glances. Before your body even had the time to react by blushing, you met Wanda's glowing eyes. You dropped down so hastily you almost fell. So much for brushing your hair.

The others introduced themselves to you: James "Rhodey" Rhodes, called War Machine; the Vision; Sam Wilson, Avenger name Falcon; and the twins of course.

"So that's our new one. Doesn't seem to me like she's overlooked easily," Sam joked. You stared at your feet and were glad the attention turned away from you when the door opened. Black Widow and Captain America looked the group over.

Funny enough, the whole thing seemed more like a lesson in college. The team mates were introduced by recounting a bit of personal history, explaining their abilities and the likes. You felt terribly misplaced among those experienced fighters with their amazing powers. What were you doing here in the first place? Then came a lecture about team play and how they would proceed. Also not your strong side. The meeting ended and the group members went on to something they wanted to do separately. Now you needed to find out where the hell you were and how to get back to your room. A silver-blue flash and somebody blocked your way.

"Ready? You look like you need a drink."

"Where do we go?", you asked.

"I know a great pub in New York."

"New York City?", you asked. Then you remembered. "Of course. Takes you about... what, five minutes?"

He seemed offended. "Four minutes and twelve seconds if I'm not alone. I'm working on it."

"Whoa. Then... I guess I'm ready." You mounted his back again, not able to forget Wanda's scornful gaze. She was nowhere to be seen, but this was a bad idea anyway. Yet again you buried your face in Pietro's neck and soft hair (which was dark there, not silver, you noticed) and there you went. It was hard enough holding on at that speed, but you gathered all your courage to get a look around. It was astounding. Instead of going incredibly fast, the world seemed to be moving incredibly slow. Pietro seemed to be moving in a relaxed jog. "Whoa," you whispered again.

You were in the city now, moving between cars that barely seemed to move at all. The weirdest of it was the sound. As if they didn't reach you. Except for the wind in your ears, it was quiet. Just a blink later, Pietro slowed down and the world returned to its normal pace.

Just now you noticed you were panting as if you had run instead of him. Your arms and legs refused to move. Pietro chuckled and carefully set you down, supporting you until your shaking legs carried you. "How did you like it?", he asked with a grin. "I'm told some find it hard to take. The journey, I mean."

"It was amazing!", you blurted out, almost losing your balance again, grinning like a maniac. Pietro took you by the arm and led you into the pub he had brought you to. He seemed to be well known there, because he greeted the bartender and half of the guests by name, while you stood at the door and looked at everything carefully. It was not a typical pub, which you imagined to be somewhat smoky and fairly old. Here, everything looked new. The theme was – what an irony – super heroes. The steel counter gleamed in the light.

"Where's your sister?", someone asked.

"Oh, I've got a different company this time."

"Really, did you finally find a girlfriend? Can she keep up with you, Silver?" Then men were mostly sitting at the bar. Pietro turned around and despite not having moved an inch yourself, he needed a moment to spot you. "There you are." You quickly walked over to him, earning curious glances from all sides.

"So you're a new Avenger then?", a young man with glasses asked. He looked like a student, about the same age as Pietro. Your jaw almost dropped. Had Pietro told them about it? What was about secrecy? "What are your powers?"

"I'm just a regular agent," you said quickly. "To keep the boys on a leash."

That caused laughter. Pietro raised an eyebrow, but thankfully took the hint and ordered a beer for himself and a cocktail for you. When the bartender had gone he blinked and looked at you. "That's Wanda's favorite. Chert. I'm sorry." He rubbed his neck.

"It's fine," you told him. Wanda seemed like a decent person and you didn't believe in petty things like "don't like the same drink as". You could be friends. Except she seemed to hate you.

Pietro took the drinks and brought them over to a table in the corner. There was a card with the menu. "Hungry?", Pietro suggested. You suddenly realized you were. You hadn't eaten since breakfast and not even noticed it in all the excitement.

"Yeah. You?"

"I'm always hungry," he stated as a matter of fact. You had to laugh. If somebody ran that much this came as no surprise. "I recommend the pasties. They're amazing."

"Then we'll run with the pasties," you said. You tasted the cocktail. It was good. Bit too spicy for your taste, maybe, but good.

"Everything on me," Pietro told the cashier. "This lady here saved my life after all."

You blushed. "I didn't -" He gave you another smile. You took a deep breath and managed to speak up. "Listen, I... I'm glad it happened like it happened, would be a damn shame if you were dead, really, but I was not supposed to be there. I'm from filing. I'm not an Avenger and never will be. I can't fight. I have not the slightest clue what the hell is going on and your sister -" You broke off. You had already said way too much already. You stared into your cocktail while Pietro tried to figure out what you wanted to say. Normally he was that fast in everything, why not now?

"Wanda? What did she do?"

You sighed. "Nothing. She just keeps looking at me in a way that makes clear I should keep away from you. I mean, I really don't want to get between you or anything."

Pietro cut you off by taking your hand. His was strong and warm. "Wanda is just worried about me. I'll talk to her."

You nodded, because what else could you do? The bartender, Jake was his name, brought them the pasties. One for you, two for Pietro. "We still got a few spare," Jack said and laughed. He sounded like a bear, which matched his physique. "Speedy here is always hungry. Our best costumer by far, especially considering he's not from the City."

"As if that makes a difference," you said and Jake laughed again that the table vibrated. "Hope you like it. Takes someone special to slow Silver down."

To your surprise, Pietro looked at his plate and began to eat, also this in a speed you couldn't have thought possible.

"So they call you Silver? Short for Quicksilver?"

He nodded and looked up again, one of the pasties already gone while you hadn't even taken more than one bite. They were delicious, he was right about that. "Thought it's a fitting nickname."

"I think Speedy is pretty cute as well."

He smiled with crumbs in the corners of his mouth. "Pietro, please. What about you? An Avenger needs a nickname."

You looked away. "Yeah," you mumbled. "The Wallpaper Girl or what?" That should have been a joke. It came out a lot more bitterly. Pietro seemed surprised. He took your hand again.

"(f/n)."

You shook your head. "It's fine. Sorry. I didn't want to ruin our... is this a date?"

He blinked. "Uhm, well, if... if you want it... if you want it to be a date, then yes." Whoa. You were the one that started stuttering under the slightest pressure. Not Pietro Maximoff.

You nodded and took a bite from the pasty to hide your flushed cheeks. "Cool," you muttered. He said something in Sokovian. You needed a moment, then you answered.

Pietro looked at you with big eyes. "You speak Sokovian?"

"My grandparents are from there. They emigrated in the thirties. Never really learned English. Grandma used to tell us stories from the old home. I always wanted to go there." You shrugged your shoulders. "Not the best time I suppose."

"Probably not. I don't think Sokovia has ever been calm since the twenties," Pietro said.

You didn't say anything, because you knew his parents had been killed by a missile and everything you said would be wrong.

"Are they still alive?", he eventually asked.

"No. They died a few years ago."

"I'm sorry. …You said 'we'. Do you have siblings?"

"Four of them. Two younger, two older. We don't have an awful lot of contact anymore. Same with my parents. Middle girl never gets a lot of attention." Suddenly you realized you had mentioned this again. You hated attention. Why were you so insistent to get it all of a sudden?

Pietro studied you for a moment, his hand still reassuringly around yours. "Fury says it's a talent."

"A talent, my ass," you growled. "Tell you what, it's horrible. I'm not so much into small talk anyway. I mean," you add hastily, "about celebrities and stuff. This is different of course. I... I like you."

Pietro smiled. "I like you too. It's a shame you don't get recognized at all."

You blushed, but couldn't look away. Pietro gave your hand a little squeeze, and you returned it. Then he stuffed the rest of the pasty into his mouth. You couldn't help laughing and took a bite yourself. It was going cold by now, but you barely felt it.

"I... Thank you for saving my life." He didn't let you say anything. "I mean it. Without you, I would be dead. And Clint and the kid too. So thank you." The last words he said in Sokovian.

"I did what was right," you said. "Pietro... I... Do you think I can really be an Avenger? Even without any special talent?"

"You have a talent. You have any idea how useful that might be? Also, we'll always need a... what do you call it? Scribe?" He winked at you.

You gasped. And slapped his hand. "How many of you have read my stories?"
"The whole group. Stark left it lying around. Sorry."

You would have wanted to slap Tony Stark for infiltrating your computer in the first place. If S.H.I.E.L.D. was anything, then it was thorough. Especially with Tony Stark involved. Then again, of course they would want to check on ever new inner member, considering the HYDRA infiltration being disclosed the last years. Logical, but not fit to make you happy.

"Does it help if I tell you everybody loved them?", Pietro asked innocently. You shrugged your shoulders. It had gone dark outside. Now the real night life was starting. You finished the pasty and the cocktail before wiping your mouth with a napkin.

"So... any other plans for tonight?", Pietro asked.

"Actually when I left for work this morning I didn't think I'd end up here. So no, not really. We'll start training tomorrow, so it would be great if we could go home."

He nodded and stood up. You stopped him and brushed a crumb off his cheek. He gave you the slightly goofy smile you thought was incredibly cute and called out to Jake to write it down. In the matter of five minutes, you were back in the Facility you had never thought to see in person only about twelve hours ago.

Pietro walked you to your room. The corridor was completely empty, but you felt watched anyway. You called yourself a scaredy cat. You were distracted anyway when Pietro stopped. You had almost walked past your new room. He looked at you in the twilight, his silver hair softly reflecting the light from afar. He laid a hand on your cheek. You froze. How long did you know each other? A week? Then again, he was one of the fast kind in every possible meaning.

Pietro planted a feather light kiss on your lips. Your hand moved at its own accord and closed around his wrist. He wouldn't get away like that after starting this. You kissed him back, with a passion that surprised yourself. Pietro didn't object. He laid the free arm around your waist and pulled you closer. But at some point, you had to let go, because you were out of breath.

"I take it you enjoyed the evening?", Pietro said with a mocking smile.

"Who doesn't love free food?", you shot back and kissed him again. The hell were you doing? To your surprise, Pietro blushed.

"Then I'll see you tomorrow. Nice dreams." And gone he was. For a second you just stared into space blankly, then turned around and went into your room. You washed and fell into bed. It wasn't home, not yet, but you were soon fast asleep.

You walked along the hallway to the main room. Everywhere people were bustling, not seeing you. A normal day in the facility. You could hear laughter, also Pietro's. Some time had passed since you first came here. You opened the door and entered the room. The New Avengers were sitting around a table full of empty takeout cans. You frowned. You were starving, but nobody seemed to have thought of inviting you.

"Hey guys," you said. Nobody answered. They didn't even hear you.

"That was one hell of a punch," Rhodey said to Sam. They laughed. "Next time you won't be so lucky."

Wanda leaned on Pietro and you didn't want to disturb them. You just sat on the edge of the sofa and listened in on their conversation. They were talking about training, it seemed, and you wondered why you had missed it. You couldn't remember right now, but surely you had been sent away with some task?
"What about that girl?", Rhodey asked. "What was her name again? Olivette?"

"Agent Oliver," the Vision said. "I believe she was sent back to the filing department."

You didn't know what to say to that. You were right here! "Guys, I can hear you!", you said loudly. They didn't turn around. They couldn't hear you, but you heard every last word they said.

"Didn't you date her or anything, Speedy?", Sam asked Pietro.

Quicksilver shrugged his shoulders. "Once. She was... unremarkable. Pretty boring. Wanted to talk about books and the likes."

Laughter. "Ooooh, books, she surely wanted to poison your mind, Speedy," Rhodey teased. Then he had a leftover noodle in the face. Pietro grinned and hugged his sister a little tighter.

"Shut up, Mr. Intellectual. She wasn't my type. I mean, did you read those stories?"

"They could have been improved," the Vision agreed. "Agent Oliver-"

"Oh, for God's sake, Agent?", Sam interrupted. "She was from filing."

Pietro finished his coke. "I'm glad she's gone. She wasn't fit for being an Avenger. Even said so herself."

"Says the guy who dated and kissed her."

"Well, she did save my life. Lucky coincidence. Just wanted to be polite. And that kiss... just a test. She was obviously a virgin." His sister nudged him, but the men roared with laughter.

You stood up, shaking and tears in your eyes. Then you turned around and ran. As much as you hated everybody ignoring you, now everybody was staring at you while you ran to the front doors, crying. There were whispers and the occasional laughter. How could you have thought to keep the pace of these heroes? An unimportant little girl. You cursed yourself, and your so-called talent, and the urge to help in Sokovia. You cursed Fury, and Pietro, and wished he had died there.

You ran and ran, until you stopped, panting, your face wet with tears and sweat. And in a gust of wind, Pietro was leaning there on a tree, arms crossed.

"Eavesdropping on us? That's not really nice," he said.

"You talking about me like that isn't very nice either," you replied in a shaking voice.

"My parents always told me it's better to be honest."

"Behind my back, you mean?", you snapped, turning around to go. A silver-blue shimmer and Pietro blocked your way.

"I'm not talking behind your back now." You had the strong urge to slap him, but he caught your hand without any effort. "Go home. You don't belong her, Wallpaper Girl."

You choked when you heard that name from his mouth. "Asshole!", you hissed.

"No matter how hard you try, you'll never be an Avenger. That talent of yours? What is that good for, anyway?" You looked into his hard, mocking blue eyes. "Oh and... what was your name again? Doesn't matter. That kiss sucked."

Suddenly, he was gone. You collapsed on the ground, leaves rustling under your knees, and cried.

"You don't belong to us," his voice came again. "We don't want you. Nobody does."

Then everything went black.

You woke in your bed because someone was talking to you. What had happened? That was not your small flat with the ancient furniture the landlord had insisted you kept. It was a modern room and over your head, the communication system was chattering. Groggily you groped for you phone. Seven in the morning. You sat up and yawned. When you rubbed your face, your hands were suddenly soaking wet. It had only been a dream.

You had a good idea who was responsible for it. For a few seconds you felt a raging fury at Wanda, because she dared to do this to you. The date had been Pietro's idea. You liked him and he liked you. Worry or not, she had no right to do this! But when you fell back on your bed to put on socks, the rage was gone. What could you possibly do about anything? Running to Steve or Natasha? Despite being shy, you were too proud to do that. Asking Pietro? Equally embarrassing. Confront Wanda about it? You would probably be defeated spectacularly, but fine. You would try, but not when you were alone. That was too dangerous.

You finally clothed yourself and answered the communication system. It was a message from Steve. "Your training starts at half past 8, we meet at the hangar. Bring clothes for sports, we start with combat skills." Oh God, you thought, so you would make a fool of yourself in the first lesson.

You trotted to the room you assumed could have a chance of breakfast. Your body hurt and you felt like you hadn't slept at all. The whole team was there, eating and chatting. Pietro was already finished, waiting for his sister. You chose a bit of cornflakes and a toast and sat down at the edge of the group, eating in quiet. "Had sweet dreams?" You winced. When you looked up, you met Wanda's dark eyes. Her voice was friendly, but her eyes gleamed in triumph.

"Sure," you said vaguely. Wanda smiled and turned to lead Pietro out of the room before he had a chance to even greet you. Now that you had spoken up, people actually had realized you were there.

"Whoa," Sam said. "This is getting spooky. I didn't see you until Wanda talked to you. You look tired."

"It's fine," you said with a smile, finishing your breakfast.

"Hey, I think (f/n) here needs a nickname," Rhodey suddenly said. "Like, an Avengers name. She's the only one who hasn't got one yet." There you were. The Wallpaper Girl. You had hoped they wouldn't think of it, or not that quickly.

"She just seems to appear somewhere. How about Spectre?", Sam proposed.

"She sure ain't looking scary to me," Rhodey said. "No offense," he added in your direction. You didn't say anything, just listened in on their conversation. They came up with increasingly weird, but also funny names, and certainly nothing offensive.

"Apparition."

"That's not catchy enough."

"Invisible girl."

"Already taken. How about spirit?"

"That's boring. Ghost?"

"Too simple."

You noticed somebody sitting down beside you. It was the Vision. "You seem to be distressed, Agent (l/n)."

"Call me (f/n)," you said. "I didn't sleep well. I'll be fine."

"Did a nightmare bother you?"

You just shrugged your shoulders. "It's nothing." You stood up. "I better get my stuff."

"Everybody should know some basic hand-to-hand combat tricks," Steve announced. "Rhodey, Sam, you will train together. Vision, Pietro, you're in my group. The girls are with Natasha."

Wanda shot you a sweet smile, obviously happy you were not with Pietro again. Natasha approached you. "Okay, Ladies, let's get going."

You were tired to begin with, but remembered a few things from your S.H.I.E.L.D training, whereas Wanda had no experience in this field. And the best thing was, she was not allowed to use her powers. As the sun rose, Natasha showed you the basics again. You made more mistakes than you would like, but it kept Scarlet Witch content and as morning turned to noon, you wished you could just lie down and sleep.

"Okay, girls, one last round. Tomorrow we'll show the boys they shouldn't underestimate us." You thought Natasha was being a bit too optimistic, but didn't say anything. You faced Wanda, who had taken off her jacket now. She tried a feint, but you dodged it and caught her arm, spinning her around. A kick hit your shin and you cried out, but managed to stay on your feet and shifted your weight forward. Wanda, only standing on one leg, couldn't keep her balance and you flipped her and she crashed to the ground. She didn't move.

After a few seconds of childish triumph, your smile faded. You took a step forward. "Are you o-" Then you were flying through the air, spinning wildly. It felt like somebody was punching you and the ground came closer quickly. You closed your eyes, awaiting the impact.

Somebody caught you. It was still painful, but by far better than hitting the ground. That somebody had jumped to catch you and slow your fall so you didn't get hurt. The world slowly stopped spinning and you could breathe again. Pietro was more out of breath than after the trip to New York. He grinned down at you. "That might have been a personal record."

"Thanks," you managed. He carefully set you on your own feet and after a few shaking seconds you could stand. You looked around. The hangar and training field was quite a bit behind the facility, but you would just have to walk a few meters to reach the front doors now.

Steve and Natasha came running, with everybody else trailing behind them. "What happened?"

"Pietro caught me," you said sheepishly. "It's fine."

"No it's not!", Natasha said sharply. "Wanda, why did you do that?"

"It was a reflex," she said apologetically. "I'm sorry." But of course that hadn't been a reflex and she wasn't sorry at all. She just had to say it in front of everybody. She wasn't stupid.

The afternoon was theory. Info about past fights and the history of S.H.I.E.L.D. and the likes. Even half sleeping you remembered most of it. Aside of that, it was a better sleep than the one last night. You fell into bed that evening anyway, without joining the team for a chat, and too tired to care. It gave you maybe an hour of regular sleep to rest before the nightmares started again. And that was how it went the whole week. The situations changed from time to time, but it was always the same: Hate, mockery, rejection. Your results in the lessons got worse and you barely spoke a word to anyone, especially not Pietro, even though he was your assigned partner and asked you frequently what was wrong. Cho and Selvig interrupted the tests on you after the first session and told you to come back once you had slept properly. If they only knew. You had a feeling Vision had a few suspicions, or hell, he probably could read your thoughts anyway, but left the decision to you.

So this was how the days passed until you were so desperate you exclaimed in your dream: "Wanda, I know it's you! I will keep away from Pietro as much as I can, I promise. Just let me sleep!"

After that, you woke up, tired, but not as exhausted as before. And when you fell asleep again – it was four in the morning – you slept well and dreamed of kissing Pietro again and how right it had seemed before everything went to hell.

Now that you were no sleep-zombie anymore you actually started noticing things. Like the team noticing you more than usual. You had become a presence. Where ever you went, people recognized you. It was eerie.

"What do you think about Shadow walker?", Sam asked with a grin.

"Uh, I'm not sure," you said. That was... weird. "Bit too dark, don't you think? We're supposed to be the good guys."

"It's better than Lurker. That was Rhodey's idea."

"That was a joke," War Machine interrupted. "(f/n) is a bit too cuddly to be called Lurker."

You blinked, unsure if you should wonder about being called cuddly or why everybody was seeing you all of a sudden. Then you realized. Wanda again. She had bewitched you somehow.

However horrible it might have been, being overlooked had been your talent. If you had no talent, then there was no reason why you should stay with the New Avengers.

This evening after training and a few tests that puzzled the scientists (You were not the slightest bit unusual. It contradicted the initial results, whatever they had been.) you decided to spend the evening with the team the first time. Rhodey and Sam were still on the topic of your Avenger name. Your personal favorites were actually Ghost or Shade, but you didn't interrupt them. It was too hilarious. Not that you would ever need that name anyway.

"Clint will visit soon," Steve said. "Maybe even with his kids."

"He wants to thank you two personally for saving him," Natasha said to you and Pietro.

"I really didn't-", you started, but Steve cut you off.

"You need to stop putting yourself in a corner. That doesn't bring you anywhere. Any new results from Cho and Selvig?" You didn't have the courage to tell them you would probably leave soon anyway, so you only shrugged your shoulders.

Despite always feeling Wanda's wary glances on your back, the evening turned out quite nice. In the end Pietro insisted on walking you to your room, despite your resistance.

You were alone in the corridor. The next thing you knew, you were slammed against the wall and felt warm, soft lips on yours. One part of you was panicking, but the rest enjoyed the feeling greatly. You returned the kiss, tasting the crackers he had eaten the whole evening. His stubble brushed over your face. It was perfect. When he pulled back, his blue eyes were sparkling.

"I knew it!", he announced. "I knew you liked it."

You couldn't help a smile. He sounded like a kid on Christmas. You had been so dismissive of his tries to get close to you, wanting to show Wanda you were no threat. He really didn't deserve that. You shoved him gently away, his smile vanishing. It was a heartbreaking sight and you hated yourself for doing it. "Pietro, it's not... it's not you. I would like to, but it's not possible."

He looked at you with the expression of a beaten puppy. "But... why?"

"I can't. I'm so sorry."

Pietro didn't even try to follow you as you ran into your room and threw yourself on the bed, just able to hold back the tears until the door was closed.

You woke with salt dried on your face, your body aching from the uncomfortable position you had slept in, and exhausted from another nightmare you didn't really remember. Unless the scene with Pietro in the hallway counted as a nightmare too. The hurt look on Pietro's face was tearing you apart, but you had no choice if you ever wanted to live in peace. Can Avengers live in peace?

Wanda was right: You were no Avenger, never had been. Time to get back to your real life. You would ask for an appointment first with the scientists and then with Fury.

When you headed for the room where you normally ate with the others you could hear voices. Angry voices. Aware of your new visibility, you slowly went closer. The room was for the most part deserted. That was, except for Wanda and Pietro, who were yelling at each other, which itself was a good reason to stay away. They were talking in Sokovian and you couldn't make out everything, but understood what the fight was about. You.

"How could you do that? Wanda, I trusted you!"

"Exactly! There's only us! That's why we stick together!"
"It's not!", Pietro snapped. "We're Avengers now! I won't leave you or anything."

"Right." He wanted to hug her, but she turned away.

"Pietro, I'm just worried about you, don't you see? Letting others in has never helped us."

"Oh really? And why do you look at Vision like that then?"

Wanda froze. "I don't..." She broke off. "It's nothing."

"Fine. That's your choice." He rubbed his forehead and paced up and down for a moment. "Wanda. We have finally some safety. Others like us. Why are you so hell-bent on keeping all that away?"

"At least say what it really is about," Wanda hissed. "That girl. (f/n). What is so special about her?"

Pietro's voice grew softer. "I love you, sister, you know that. I always will. But I... I want someone to love in a romantic way. And I really like (f/n). Let me make my own decisions."

"You will only get hurt," Wanda said bitterly. "Like always when we are separated."

Pietro tried to hug her again. "We're not going to get-"

The next moment you were thrown against the wall and faced enraged red eyes, your head spinning. "What are you doing here?", Scarlet Witch snapped. "Eavesdropping on us, are you now?"

"It was not exactly easy to miss your conversation," you replied. What the hell. You looked her straight in the eyes. Didn't make a difference anyway. "Go ahead, poke in my head. I don't care. I can't help my feelings, but I won't try to stand between you."

You saw the red energy flowing from her fingers, but it was not the brutal shock wave you had expected. Just a touch that was gone immediately. Wanda looked at you like she saw you for the first time and took a step back. "You hurt him, you can say goodbye to your mind," she said, but there was no real force behind it. Then she turned around and left.

There was an awkward silence after the door had slammed shut.

"I'm sorry," you eventually said.

Suddenly, Pietro stood in front of you and took your hand. "No. What Wanda did was wrong."

"She only means it well."

"That doesn't make it right." He paused. "Listen, I know we've only been out on one date and all, but I want to make this a thing."

"You're on the quick side," you joked. He smiled and kissed you, just a fleeting touch on your lips.

"I'll treat you to something nice soon, okay?" His grin made you wonder what he meant with that.

"Where are the others?", you asked.

"Out. Didn't want to get in our way, I guess. Not that anyone could have been eavesdropping except..." He blinked. "You speak Sokovian."

You shrugged your shoulders. "Sorry."

Pietro shook his head. "You're hungry for sure." He waited next to you while you ate the first breakfast you actually tasted in a week and snatched a piece of apple from time to time.

"So... will they let us be partners if you're officially my girlfriend now?", Pietro asked.

"Probably not. Say... any past girlfriends?"

He shook his head. "No. Always been busy..." He shrugged his shoulders. "You're the first one that didn't get scared away by my sis."

It was hard to say this, but he deserved the truth. "I almost was. Wanted to resign today. Me hearing you was just a coincidence."

"Agent (l/n)," Pietro said in a fake serious voice. "You certainly are the queen of lucky coincidences."

"I probably am. Otherwise I wouldn't be here." You yawned. God, how the hell were you supposed to survive another day of training? Strong arms encircled you and you leaned into his embrace. It felt good. It felt right. Pietro just held you for a moment before gently picking you up and carrying you over to the sofa. You protested weakly, but he didn't pay attention. He sat down and rested your head in his lap.

"Will Wanda be okay?", you murmured.

"Of course she will. We'll be a team. We'll be family."

"That would be really nice," you said, barely able to keep your eyes open. Pietro held your hand and stroked your forehead. You were comfortable. This time there would be no nightmares.

You slept.

I hope you liked it.

Fun fact: In the writing process I had an idea for an OC named Lucyna Oliver (Olli), which more or less this is about. I might write about her if anyone would be interested.

Also, I'd be happy about ideas for an Avenger name for my character. So far, I would prefer Ghost or Shade, which is both pretty lame and already taken in the Marvel universe.