When Spies Collide // WandaNat Spy AU

Paris

To Natasha, the best part of her job, her life, really, was the ever changing scenery. Her location moved like a revolving door, time zones almost didn't exist to her anymore. The new locales always emboldened her; these cities had no hold on her, she could be whoever she wanted, change her story like she changed clothes. Last week, Rome, this week, Paris, next week, who knows? She and Steve traveled where the winds of nefarious individuals carried them, from Bangkok to Moscow to Monaco. For now though, the City of Love beckoned.

Tonight, in the debauchery of the grandiose Paris party she attended, she wasn't Natasha Romanoff, spy extraordinaire, she was an art student from overseas. Maybe she just had a bad breakup that caused her to fail a final or two, and she fled to Paris for the summer to recoup. Old money, Natasha hypothesized. Silver spoon type. Maybe stuck up and pretentious, but good hearted. Most times, Natasha's made up backstory never came up, but on the off chance a partygoer attempted to start conversation, it was best to be prepared.

The party went smoothly, nothing of note, though unfortunately no new intel, until Wanda marched in, confident as ever. Of course she'd be here. If Natasha could track Mark to Paris, then the pair of FBI operatives could as well. Wanda wore the same red silk gown as she did in Monaco, and Natasha made a note to chastise her should the opportunity arise. Natasha had to admit, though, it was nice to see a familiar face. The pair hadn't crossed paths in over a week, and while Wanda wasn't exactly backup, she was at the very least not an adversary.

"We should talk," Wanda whispered as she reached Natasha, much more direct than usual. "Dance with me."

The blonde didn't wait for an answer, sweeping Natasha off to the dance floor, leading the pair in a waltz. More alert than usual, Wanda's eyes darted around suspiciously before settling on Natasha's.

"So, um, who are you tonight?" Wanda asked, twinkle in her eye.

"What?"

"Oh please, I hear the little backstories you make up. Different every time. Natalia in Moscow, Nina in Monaco... so who are you in Paris?"

Natasha blushed, embarrassed, but played along. Perhaps Wanda did want to establish some camaraderie. "Who do you want me to be?"

"Just you is fine with me. You look nice, by the way," Wanda said, voice low. "Though I do miss the cat suit."

"Wish I could say the same for you. Same dress for two straight galas? You're better than that."

"Glad to know you're keeping track of my wardrobe."

Natasha laughed lightly. "What is this about, anyway? I'm assuming you didn't just want to dance with me."

"Right." Wanda's eyes darkened. "Have you seen Scooter tonight?"

"I'm sorry, who?"

"Uh, purple suit, the mark. That's what we named him. Scooter."

"Uh, no, I haven't, actually..."

"You have any word on him?"

"What are we, comparing notes?"

"I mean, can we?"

Natasha stepped back, irritation starting to bubble. She suspected that Wanda's stunt in Rome wasn't an olive branch, it was leverage. "What, you think just because you gave me that spear means we're best buds now?"

Wanda frowned. "I thought we at least had a... professional relationship."

"Snap out of it, Wanda. We have no relationship. We're not in a buddy cop movie, we're just spies. Spies who have jobs to do."

Sighing, Wanda pushed the other woman back up to a wall, out of earshot from the howl of the party. "Look, we have a common enemy. I was just wondering if you'd seen him tonight. I think something big is going down."

Natasha shoved Wanda away for a little space. "I have an enemy, and then there's you. A doe-eyed, overeager kid just itching to prove herself."

Wanda lost herself for a moment, taken aback by Natasha's cruelty. "And you're a washed up, old spy trying to prove she still has worth. You've been chasing this dealer for three months, with nothing to show for it."

"Because of you!" The redhead got up into Wanda's face. "Without you butting into everything, stealing that amulet in Moscow, trying to grab the spear in Monaco, I'd have both Scooter and the big boss in custody by now."

"Can you listen to me! Just for one second!" Wanda retorted. "You think you know better than everyone, but you don't, especially not now!"

Inches from Wanda, Natasha spat, "so tell me, hotshot? What am I missing?"

"I've been trying to tell you for the last ten minutes, but I think there's a weapons deal going down tonight!"

Cooling off, at least for the moment, Natasha stepped back. "When?"

"I'm not sure. That's why I asked if you saw Scooter."

Suddenly, gunfire sounded from outside, and both women sprinted to the exit without hesitation. Natasha drew both of her concealed handguns, ducking behind a column near the entrance for cover. In the city streets, a standoff brewed, with Scooter ducking behind his car, returning gunfire as two lackeys fired pop shots.

"Looks like the deal soured," Wanda said to no one in particular.

"Actually, love," a voice said from behind her, "the deal just got a whole lot sweeter."

A colossal mass of a man lunged at Wanda, who found it difficult to fend off a surprise assault in a ball gown. Unable to call for Clint, who would be preoccupied with the altercation in the street anyway, she was on her own. On her left, Natasha fended off two assailants, pistols hot and firing. Offended that Scooter, or his boss, sent more guards for Natasha than her, Wanda fought with extra ferocity, trading blows and trying to find an opportunity to draw her own gun, but not getting one.

Eventually, through the melee, Wanda glanced over to see Natasha lying motionless on the pavement, a cloth over her mouth. Wanda involuntarily cried out for the other woman, and the assailant used the distraction to finally overpower Wanda, putting her in a headlock that led to a lengthy nap.