Author's note:

Totally unrelated, my new favorite fanfic subculture is where Iron Man and Captain America are a married couple and Spider-Man is their baby. Hilarious.


It was late afternoon and Vision was restless. Training had ended for the day and most of the other Avengers had gone off in search of post-workout showers or snacks. Vision neither sweated nor hungered so, as usual, he did not engage in these activities. Instead he found himself wandering the compound, gravitating to the one member who had failed to report for training that day.

Wanda Maximoff had requested the day off, vaguely claiming "girl problems" as the reason for her absence. Vision had a clinical understanding of the female reproductive system, but it perplexed him as to why, if such a system was running properly, it should cause such trouble.

As Vision's wandering brought him to Wanda's door he heard sounds from within that alarmed him. Faintly, he could hear labored breathing punctuated with moans of pain. Fearing that the young occupant was in distress, Vision forwent his newly learned rule of opening doors and simply passed through the wall.

Wanda was on her bed, fully clothed, curled in the fetal position. Her eyes were closed and her forehead was crinkled with pain.

"Ms. Maximoff? Do you require medical attention?" Vision asked softly. "I will alert F.R.I.D.A.Y. to - ."

"No! I'm alright," Wanda cut him off, though everything about her appearance would suggest otherwise. "And how many times do I have to tell you to call me Wanda?"

"With all due respect, Wanda, you do not look alright," Vision insisted. "What can I do to help you?"

She took another pained breath and sighed. "Maybe some Advil," she said after a moment's hesitation. "And tea, mint with honey?"

"I think I can do that," Vision said with relief.

"I didn't realize robots got headaches," Clint Barton teased when he saw Vision emerge from the medical locker with the small white bottle in hand.

"They're for Ms. Maximoff - Wanda," Vision corrected. "She is experiencing menstrual pains."

"Oh, geez," Clint groaned. "Sorry I asked."

"Shut up, Barton," Natasha Romanoff scolded from behind them. Her freshly washed hair was wrapped turban-style in a towel. "Before I send you on a shopping trip for tampons and ice cream."

"Uh, I think I hear Tony calling for me." Clint quickly excused himself from any further menstrual discussion.

"Give her this, too," Wanda instructed, reaching into a lower shelf of the medical locker. She handed Vision the electric heating pad. "It sounds like she needs it."

"Thank you, Ms. Romanoff," Vision said looking at the corded implement. "This is very kind."

"Always so polite," Natasha mused.

"Part of J.A.R.V.I.S.'s programming, I believe." Vision was never sure if he should be apologetic or embarrassed when people made such observations about him.

"I bet," Natasha smiled wryly. Suddenly her eyes light up. "Brownies," she stated matter-of-factly.

"I beg your pardon?" Vision was aware of the sugary dessert, but failed to see how how it fit into the context of the conversation.

"You should make her brownies," Natasha clarified. "There's a box of brownie mix in the pantry."

"Do you think that will help Wanda?" Vision asked.

"Absolutely," Natasha assured him. "Trust me."

Seeing as there was no medical emergency to speak of, Vision opted to use the door this time. He knocked as standard human procedure dictated and waited for Wanda to grant him entry. He set the metal tray containing bottle of pills, mug of tea, and heating pad on the nightstand next to Wanda. Retrieving a rose from the garden had crossed his mind as well, but he'd reconsidered since, as Tony would have said, it was too much.

"Ms. Romanoff suggested you might be in need of this as well," Vision said as he plugged the heating pad into the outlet next to Wanda's bed.

"Thank her for me," Wanda said weakly, taking the heating pad graciously.

"I will," Vision replied. "She also mentioned you might like brownies."

"With peanut butter?" Wanda asked, perking up. "I like chocolate with peanut butter."

"Peanut butter. Of course, if you wish," Vision said, making a mental note.

Wanda was asleep curled around the heating pad when Vision returned with the plate of warm peanut butter brownies. He set the plate down as softly as he could and retreated soundlessly.

"Vision?" Wanda's soft voice called to him just as he was drifting through the wall.

"I'm here," he said, still halfway through the wall.

"Will you stay with me?"

"If you like." Vision planted himself as an awkward sentinel just inside the door.

"Not there," Wanda laughed and patted the bedspread beside her. "Here."

"You want me to lie down with you?" He asked, confused.

"Mm-hm." Wanda nodded and smiled softly.

Vision lay on his back with his arms straight down at his sides without touching Wanda. He made himself light so as to not jostle the bed. As he was unsure of this human custom, his superhuman mind scanned through the positioning in hopes of finding meaning to the posture.

"Give me your hand," Wanda instructed, recognizing his confusion.

She reached for his arm, the one farthest from her, and pulled it across her own body hugging it. Vision rolled toward her until the front of his body was in contact with the back of hers.

"And then what?" Vision asked when they were settled. His mind slowed down, instead, he opted to follow Wanda's instruction.

"That's it," Wanda said as she snuggled her back against him and closed her eyes. "Just stay there."

"Wanda?" Vision said softly after a while of listening to her even breathing.

"Yes?" She asked drowsily.

"This is enjoyable," he said.

"Mm," was all she replied.