Wanda and Amanda

[x-scarletwitch.livejournal.com]

After a late night working, Wanda and Amanda run into each other at Finnegans. They catch up a bit before Amanda does the darnedest thing...



"Hey, Wanda, you made it in time for second to last call," the bartender called over the murmuring crowd when he saw her tall frame heading towards the back of the Finnegan's.

Wanda gave a quick wave in acknowledgment before slipping through the tables. She'd spotted a familiar head in the crowd, despite the late night, and had honed in.

"Late night for you, too?" she asked Amanda as she dropped her purse and briefcase next to the table and all but bonelessly slipped into the chair across from the other escapee of late night Snow Valley workers.

The younger woman looked up from the notes she was writing and nodded, laying her pen down to reach for her pint instead. “Hassles of the whole “world-wide network” thing,” she replied. “Time zones. I had to talk to a couple of people in Aukland about some Maori artefacts in the museum that may or may not be cursed and had to hang around for a ‘decent hour’ to get them on the phone.” She raised an eyebrow at Wanda “How about you, boss lady? Got something on?”

Wanda considered trying to fudge but she gave Amanda a slightly sheepish look. "Well, I was working on something until about an hour ago when I fell asleep at my desk. My body's way of protesting the long hours and not enough outside time, I believe. Before the sudden power nap, though, it was a mixture between something that landed on my plate from Betsy and looking through that damned manifest from Agatha's museum."

Amanda frowned a little. “You’re not that long out of the hospital, Wanda. You should be looking after yourself” Unlike previous occasions where she’d ‘scolded’ her boss, this time there was no humour in Amanda’s tone. “We can’t afford to have you wipe yourself out, not when we’re two down already.”

The older woman grimaced. "I know. And I know that since what I'm working on is personal, it is harder to distance myself and get some perspective." Wanda paused and accepted the beer that the waitress brought her. "Which is why I'm stepping back. Stephen can handle the museum and Agatha - I need to concentrate on this new Chthon cult, anyway. Turn Doug loose on the news sites, have you and Illyana work with me on shaking loose any information from our informers."

Eyebrows raised, Amanda blinked at Wanda. Assigning work happened all the time, but it was usually separate projects. Wanda asking for help? Not so much. “Sure, no worries,” she replied, taking another drink from her beer. “Sorry if I came on a bit strong. Must be hard, this whole business with Agatha.” Not that Amanda didn’t have experience with meddling old female mentors suddenly turning around and using you ‘for the good of the cause’, oh no. Understanding why Tante had used her in New Orleans didn’t mean she liked it. “Not to mention whatever’s going on with ‘Yana and Jake.”

"They're all a bunch of children, including Agatha," Wanda said firmly. "But yes, add on all of that to the work, Pete away and Remy being god knows where..." She shook her head. "Though to ensure my stress levels are going down, I've decided to not talk or bother Agatha until she comes to her senses. So if in a few months, you see me scaling out the window, you know not only has she come to her senses, she's come looking for me." The drink, the company and not being in the office was bringing her humor slowly back to an acceptable level.

That brought a grin to her assistant’s face. “Well, you know if you need someone to cover for you, I’m right there for—“ The sentence was cut off, however, as the witch abruptly sank through the slightly-beery carpet, disappearing without warning. Only her notebook, pint and an ashtray holding the smouldering butt of her latest cigarette remained.

Wanda had to give the bar staff of Finnegan's credit - two of their normal waitstaff were suddenly blocking the disappearance from the rest of the room by quickly 'attending' the table in front of them. For her part, Wanda had dropped her pint glass in surprise, sloshing beer all over the table even as she reached for her cell.

Plan one - call Amanda. If plan one failed, plan two involved calling Emma.

The phone rang and rang. Finally, after about six rings, it picked up, Amanda’s voice sounding distant – and a bit shamefaced. “Wanda? Um, sorry about that.”

A quick check on her phone had Wanda blinking. "Well, unless my phone is on the fritz, it appears you not only left the building in quite a hurry but also the country. Are you all right? And where on earth are you?"

“I’m fine,” came the quick response. “All in one piece and not in danger of any sort.” There was a pause and some voices in the background, Amanda asking where she was and a reply coming in rather annoyed-sounding Spanish. “Um. Would you believe Madrid?”

Accepting a few napkins, Wanda started to sop up the beer as she talked, grateful she had a fresh shirt in her bag. It wasn't far to home but she preferred to make it without smelling like a keg or two. "Madrid, eh? They're, what, six hours ahead of us? Might as well take advantage, love, and grab something local and tasty while you're over there."

"Well, it'll be a while before I have the oomph to get back," Amanda allowed. "Maybe I should see if I can bring you back a souvenier. One of those straw donkeys?"

"That would go well with my decor," Wanda said, grinning. "A bottle of wine wouldn't be amiss, either, and it does not sound like you will be dealing with customs on your way back..."

"I'm still working out the limits on this, so no promises." Obviously from Amanda's tone, this wasn't exactly a new issue. "If I get stuck, I'll call, yeah?"

"Please do. If you can't manage it, we'll talk to Emma about arranging something." Tucking the phone between her ear and shoulder, Wanda pulled out enough money to cover both her tab and Amanda's. "I'll make sure to bring whatever you left behind with me and I will drop them off in your apartment."

"Thanks, Boss Lady." The witch sounded relieved. "Um, I owe you drinks, yeah?"

"We'll settle once you get your British backside back on the right soil," came the cheerful reply.