I am not a hero

I am not an angel

I am just a man

A man who's trying to love her

Unlike any other

Josh Groban "In Her Eyes"

Wanda laughs the first time Vision attempts to describe the taste of coffee as he pretends to drink it. Sensors on his lips and tongue could measure the temperature, density, viscosity, and chemical components of the beverage. However, the words he often heard used to describe coffee like "bold" and "earthy" had little meaning to him in this context. The coffee's caffeine concentration, pH, and cholesterol composition is obvious to Vision but he wishes to be more than a walking, talking gas chromatograph with Wi-Fi. Though he knows the specifics of how the coffee tastes, he does not wish to bore his companion to death with the minutia of the beverage.

"It is… aromatic?" Vision tries feebly.

They are seated across from one another in a small booth in the diner. During their brief time together, Vision is doing his best to appear as human. With a bounty still on Wanda's head, it isn't wise for her to be seen in public with the synthezoid in his true form. He mirrors the position of Wanda's fingers around her own mug with his own.

"Aromatic?" Wanda repeats with a chuckle. "Is that the best you can do?"

"Smell is subjective. It is difficult to choose the precise verbiage," Vision says as a weak excuse, his forehead wrinkled in a mimicry of frustration. "I don't wish to describe it incorrectly."

"That is the beauty of things like taste and smell. They are different to everyone. There is no right and wrong." Wanda swirls her fingers absently over her mug causing a tiny whirlpool in the dark liquid.

"I suppose the same could be said for much of the human experience," Vision observes.

"Yes," Wanda agreed, smiling. "You could say that."

A small jolt of electricity in his forehead causes Vision to nearly drop his coffee. He puts his fingers to where the stone is, now hidden away by his disguise.

"We should go," Wanda says quickly.

She rushes to Vision's side of the table and yanks his hood up covering his forehead and eyes. She drops a few bills on the table for the coffee.

"Headache, sorry," she apologizes to the startled waitress as she hurries Vision out the door.

"Wanda, what are you-?" Vision puzzles once they were outside.

"Look," she turns him to the window of the nearest closed shop.

Vision lets the hood fall back a few inches and stares into the glass. There in the middle of his human forehead, plainly visible and shining like a beacon, is the Mind Stone. It was faintly pulsing.

"What's happening?" Wanda asks. "Are you alright?"

"My systems are all running normally," Vision replies after a few seconds of running diagnostics. "The stone felt strange for a moment but the sensation is gone now."

As they watch, the stone fades and disappears, once again concealed behind Vision's faux skin.

"Are you sure?" Wanda presses urgently, putting her hand to his cheek.

"Everything seems normal now," he promises. "I will ask Mr. Stark to look at it when I return home."

"Please do. I can't stand the thought of something happening to you."

Clear desperation flashes in her eyes, as her face reads deep concern. Vision takes Wanda's hand, tangling his fingers in hers.

"Don't worry, Wanda," he assures, kissing the back of her hand. "Nothing will happen to me."

Later that night, Vision holds Wanda securely in his arms while she sleeps, her head resting on his chest. It will still be another 192 hours before his system needs to recharge but it seems to soothe Wanda to have him close like this. She had confessed that it had always been Pietro who had been the one to help her sleep.

"Is that weird?" She had wondered aloud. "A grown woman who shares a bed with her brother?"

"Who am I to judge what is normal?" Vision had replied. "He made you feel safe when nothing else could."

The room is dim, but pale moonlight spills in through the crack in the curtains. It doesn't matter; Vision's robotic pupils automatically adjust. For all his masquerading as human there are still so many ways in which he is other. His voice is always a little too clear, his movements too smooth. There are still so many little parts of being human that need to be discovered and mastered. Efforts have been made to mimic the subtle randomness of breathing, fidgeting. To Vision, he found it fitting to use the human word 'irony' for his predicament. It always seems that trying to be human made him more robotic than being in his natural state as a synthezoid.

He still has much work to do before he will be able to seamlessly blend in with normal humans. In the meantime, Vision os content stealing these precious moments with one very special, decidedly not normal human.

He looks down at Wanda's sleeping form and thanks whichever deity or deities that might be listening to a being such as himself for allowing him the luck of a wonder like Wanda wanting him. He knows he should count his predecessor, Ultron, in that list but given that Ultron had intended Vision's body for himself, the idea was less than palatable.

It was times like these that Vision ruminates on Ultron and whether the being had known what this body would be capable of. He wonders if Ultron would have had the same intellectual curiosities that he did. Would he have had the same fleshly curiosities? Vision recalls Ultron's fascination with Wanda, a fascination Vision has shared almost from the first moment he came to sentience. He feels a strange pang of jealousy imagining Ultron's mind in this body, putting these hands and lips on Wanda the way Vision loved to. If he were human, Vision would shudder at the thought of Ultron using the body he now occupied in those ways.

Wanda's steady breathing is accented by an audible sigh. Her muscles tense and the room trembles with a faint vibration. The dark lights in the hotel room flicker on and off.

"No. I can't," Wanda murmures shaking her head in her sleep.

"Wanda?" Vision askes with concern.

"Don't make me. I won't…"

Wanda's nail dig hard into Vision's side. The light flicker again.

"Wake up." Vision shakes her gently.

Wanda's eye pop wide open. Unshed tears glisten on her lashes as she gasps and looks about the room frantically.

"I've got you," Vision promises, squeezing her tight to himself. "You're safe with me."

"Vizh?" She blinks in confusion. "What's going on?"

"You were having a nightmare, but it's over. It can't hurt you now," he tells her. "What were you dreaming?"

"I… I don't remember." She scrunches her eyebrows trying to recall. "It was bad. Everything I love was gone. You were gone. It was my fault. I couldn't save you."

"It's alright now. You're safe. I'm here." He kisses her forehead smoothing the wrinkles there.

"Promise?" She asks, shutting her eyes.

"Always," he replies.

She nods, a small smile forming on her lips.

"In that case," Wanda pushes herself up to a half-seated position. "I should take advantage of that while I have you."

She presses a longing kiss to his lips. She shifts so her body is suspended over his. Her hair falls like a curtain around them both. His hands snakes up her back, feeling the soft skin under her nightshirt. She sighs and smiles. Her eyes met his.

"I love you," Wanda said.

"And I you," Vision replies.

"Show me," she urges.

Gently, he rolls her to her back and positions himself between her knees, determined to demonstrate exactly how he feels.