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Magic Box | Tuesday

Wanda wasn't feeling as down about the holiday as she had been last year. It helped she had a goal to work towards to ensure that next year she would have someone to spend Thanksgiving with. Maybe she'd even cook!

...no, she probably still wouldn't do that.

She wasn't getting much in the way of work done, instead choosing to read a book she had started back in the spring but never got to finishing due to being distracted.

[Open]

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Speaking of people who didn't cook, sometime in the morning Marc stopped by. He was carrying a package and the first thing he said was,

"These are not from me."

Because even with a protective wrap around them it was easy to see that these were flowers and Marc very much did not want any misunderstandings here.

Wanda blinked at the abrupt statement for a moment, before realizing what Marc was holding. "Who could they possibly be from, then?"

Marc put the package on the counter. It was a box wrapped in cellophane and tied up with ribbons. Inside was a potted plant of red, orange, and yellow marigolds which itself had decorative ribbons around the pot.

"There's a card," Marc said. And in fact there was, safety tucked into an envelope and secured by a special card holder which kept it safely above the dirt. "Morning, by the way."

"Good morning," Wanda said, smiling as she went for the card. "Oh, they're so pretty! And appropriately colored. Are you sure you had nothing to do with this?"

She absolutely knew he had nothing to do with it.

"You're funny," Marc told her. It was a genuine compliment. He leaned against the counter to wait while she read the card.

The card, which had handwriting on the inside and the back, said:

Wanda,

Don't know if you celebrate the holiday, being Sokovian and all. But even if you don't I know it can be hard seeing people happy if you're having a rough time of it. Thought some autumn flowers might bring you cheer. Let you know there's people who care for you even if they're not family.

And that does include Marc. He does worry about you not being happy but of course he's a twit who has to pretend he doesn't. Don't tell him I told you. That can be our secret, yeah?

Right. Hope you like the flowers.

--Steven.

Wanda took a few moments to read the card, pushing down the weird thought everyone gets when someone watches them reading. The "oh god do I read slow" irrational thought.

It was pushed away the more she read, her smile widening at the sweet note.

"Steven is so cute," she said genuinely. "Nobody's given me flowers outside of Valentine's Day before."

Marc wasn't timing her. He didn't know what the card said but even from here he could see Steven had apparently written a fucking novel. (Front and back, Steven? Seriously?)

But what Marc did watch, while trying not to be obvious and thus creepy about it, was Wanda's reaction. It was possible Marc's internal reaction to seeing Wanda enjoy the gift proved the point in Steven's note. But also proving Steven's point was that Marc wasn't going to mention it.

"He got those from a friend of ours," Marc said instead. "Nell. She's good with plants so those'll probably last a while."

"That was a smart move," Wanda said, setting the card aside to get a closer look at the flowers. "I don't have the best luck with plants."

Or husbands. Or brothers. Or kids. There was a theme, here, with Wanda being given living things.

The likelihood of the gift dying had in fact been one of Steven's concerns. It had influenced his decision not to get Wanda a bouquet which was likely to need to be thrown out by the end of a week.

"I've got a plant she gave me that's hard to kill," Marc said. "Which is good because yeah. I'm not great with plants or pets."

Rest in peace, Gus the goldfish.

"I'm not great with pets either." RIP, Sparky, you were a real one. "But this--this I should be able to manage. For a little bit anyway."

Her apartment kind of had a glowing red hue right now, so maybe the flowers would thrive under it. Just like those red light therapy using weight lifters on Instagram.

"If not we don't have to tell him," Marc said. Stupid fish ratting him out by having two fins. "Not that he'd hold it against you. He's pretty good with forgiving."

"I figured he would be," Wanda said. "But it can't be too hard, right? Water, sun?"

Little did she know she wouldn't even be able to pull that off soon.

If Steven had known that he might have picked a gift that was less in need of care. But he didn't so oh well.

"Feel like he wouldn't have gotten you something that thrives in the dark," Marc said. He thought about it. "Do any plants do that? Because that'd be kind of depressing."

Some flowers did and they were lovely, Marc, you philestine.

"I'm sure there are some that do," Wanda said. "I went through a goth phase awhile back; a plant that thrived in the dark would have totally been my thing."

Marc tilted his head, looking Wanda over and trying to picture it. "So like the eyeliner and listening to Korn on repeat and everything?"

"Well the Sokovian version of Korn, but yeah." Hey, you know what? That Eastern European metal was still pretty good. "Lots of jewelry, ripped tights, the whole thing."

Well now Marc was really looking at her assessingly, trying to picture it. "Dyed hair black too?"

"Wasn't necessary," she replied. "My natural hair color is dark. I dye it red."

"Suits you," Marc said, for whatever his opinion on hair was worth. "Can't picture you with black hair though. Fake goth, you ask me."

He was joking.

"Oh, I was definitely a poser," Wanda said, laughing. "I'm not denying that at all. I'm sure you had embarrassing moments as a teenager."

Wanda would not be mentioning she was still doing the goth thing into her twenties. Her parents dying when she was ten allowed for some arrested development, she figured.

"Captain of the football team," Marc replied, without missing a beat. There may have been a hint of amusement in his eyes that suggested he was fucking with her though.

"Homecoming king too?" she guessed, though she did not actually believe any of it.

"Obviously," Marc said. "Dated the head cheerleader too. She got queen, of course."

"Of course," she said with a nod. "Just like in the movies. I'm sure you had parties with those weird red cups every American seems to have on hand."

She never understood that, watching movies back in the day.

Marc gave her a look like now he was offended. "Keg stands, thank you very much."

"Oh, excuse me," she said, laughing again. "I forgot about that cliché."

Was that Marc smiling a little? Nah, obviously an illusion. Wanda would know all about those.

"Didn't do anything," he told her, figuring she'd earned the real story at that point. "Left town soon as I was old enough to join the Marines."

She was the queen of illusions! Both literally and metaphorically.

"That sounds a bit more like you," she said with a wry smile. "So no organized sports at all?"

Marc pointed up to the Bears cap he was currently wearing. He figured even if Wanda didn't know the team she'd get the idea. "Just watching the professionals. Otherwise kept my head down, tried not to lose focus."

She indeed did not know what sport the cap referred to but she at least knew it was associated with a team! That was half the battle, wasn't it?

"I was part of a lot of political protests so I think that's the exact opposite of keeping my head down."

"That I buy," Marc said. "You don't strike me as being shy about your opinions."

Which Marc respected in a person, frankly.

"That wasn't for me," he added. "I know my limits. I leave politics to other people. I'm better being on the job."

"Well, Sokovia." The political problems there were a little more urgent than most countries. "But knowing your limits is an impressive skill in itself. A lot of people can't seem to manage it."

Herself included.

"I'm not meant for the big stuff," Marc said. Then he had to amend it. "Not saying it doesn't happen. Whole Ammit deal ended in a freaking kaiju battle. But I was there because I had to be. Didn't sign up to save the world."

"Most of us don't," she admitted. "You kind of fall ass backwards into it."

"You fall ass backwards into being an Avenger?" Marc asked, looking skeptical. "Here I thought there were try outs or something."

"I literally got told by Clint--Hawkeye--that if I walked out a door to fight Ultron, I'd be an Avenger," she said with a shrug. "Ass backwards."

Marc approached her clarifying which one Clint was. Though of course he had to reply, with that look in his eyes again, "Most people walk out of doors face forward. Easier to see where you're going."

Wanda huffed. "Has anyone ever told you that you're a smartass?"

Marc was definitely, absolutely not grinning. "Oo, this close to getting you to admit I'm an asshole. Not bad."

"Smartass is totally different from asshole," Wanda said. "It's a whole different vibe that I enjoy putting up with."

"Nope, still calling it a victory," Marc told her. Because god forbid he say a word like enjoy in return. "Putting it in my diary and everything."

"Wow, Steven gave me flowers and you're going to write about me in your diary?" she teased. "I'm really feeling the love today."

"Oh yeah," Marc said. "'Dear Diary: Steven managed to write a god damn encyclopedia on a card and I got Wanda to admit I was right. Red letter day.'"

Wanda rolled her eyes playfully. "You're impossible."

"Well now I gotta add a PS," Marc said, still very much not grinning. "'Says I'm impossible too. Gonna get a pain in the ass any day now.'"

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Magic Box | Tuesday

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