Wanda Maximoff stared at herself in the mirror of Stark Tower's guest room, tugging at the hem of her shirt for what felt like the hundredth time. For someone who had faced down Magneto, battled rogue mutants, and survived the twisted experiments of Hydra, this shouldn't have felt so nerve-wracking.
But this wasn't just any mission. This was meeting Gwen Stacy's dad—who also happened to be the Chief of Police of New York City.
"I still can't believe you're nervous," Jean teased from the doorway, her arms crossed as she leaned against the frame. "You've literally gone toe-to-toe with world-ending threats. But meeting Chief Stacy? That's what gets you?"
Wanda shot her a glare through the mirror. "Yeah, well, Magneto wasn't asking me about my intentions with his daughter."
From the couch, Storm chuckled, flipping through a magazine. "Plus, Magneto didn't have a gun and a badge."
"Exactly," Wanda muttered, smoothing her hair before grabbing her jacket. "You coming with me?"
Jean grinned. "No way. This one's all you. But don't worry—we'll be here if you need a rescue mission."
Storm raised an eyebrow, her tone dry. "Just text 'Sokovian witch under fire' if things go south."
Wanda groaned as she left the room, heading down to meet Gwen, who was waiting in the lobby, looking far too amused for Wanda's comfort.
The ride to Queens was filled with light chatter, but Wanda's nerves buzzed under the surface. When they finally pulled up to the Stacy household, a cozy, two-story home with a well-kept lawn and family photos visible through the front window, Wanda felt her pulse quicken.
Gwen shot her a reassuring smile. "Relax. He's intimidating, but he's got a soft spot. You'll be fine."
Wanda wasn't convinced.
As they approached the door, it swung open before Gwen could knock. Chief George Stacy stood there, tall and broad-shouldered, his presence filling the doorway. His piercing blue eyes immediately locked onto Wanda, analyzing her with the practiced precision of a man who'd spent decades reading people.
"Wanda Maximoff," he said, his voice even but carrying the weight of authority. "The Sokovian witch. I've read the reports."
Wanda didn't flinch. She met his gaze head-on. "And yet, here I am, sir."
There was a tense beat before Chief Stacy stepped aside. "Come in."
Gwen rolled her eyes as they entered, whispering to Wanda, "I told you. Intimidating."
The house was warm, filled with the comforting scent of home-cooked food and faint hints of vanilla from a candle burning on the mantle. Family photos lined the walls—pictures of Gwen as a child, smiling with missing teeth, and others of her and her father at various police events. But what caught Wanda's eye was a framed photo on the fireplace of a woman with blonde hair and a kind smile.
That must be Helen Stacy, Wanda thought, filing the image away for later.
Dinner was a simple but hearty meal of grilled chicken, roasted vegetables, and mashed potatoes. But the real heat wasn't coming from the food—it was from the pointed questions Chief Stacy directed at Wanda.
"So, Wanda," he began, cutting into his chicken with surgical precision. "How exactly do you plan on keeping my daughter safe while you're off causing chaos in New York?"
Wanda didn't hesitate. "With my life, sir."
Gwen choked on her water, coughing and turning bright red. "Wanda!" she hissed, giving her a sharp pinch under the table. "Subtlety. Remember?"
Chief Stacy's eyes flicked between them, his expression unreadable. But Wanda swore she saw the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
The conversation shifted, but the tension remained. Chief Stacy asked about Wanda's time with the X-Men, her role in Sokovia, and her views on the mutant-human conflict. Wanda answered each question with calm, measured responses, refusing to be rattled.
Halfway through dinner, Chief Stacy set his fork down and leaned back in his chair, his gaze softening as he looked at Gwen.
"You know, I'm proud of you, Gwen," he said, his voice quieter but filled with emotion. "For who you are—and for who you are when the mask goes on."
Gwen froze, her fork halfway to her mouth. "Dad…?"
He nodded, his expression gentle but firm. "You thought you could hide it from me? I've known you're Spider-Woman for months now."
Gwen's jaw dropped. "What? How?"
Chief Stacy chuckled, the tension finally easing. "I'm the Chief of Police, Gwen. I know everything that happens in this city. But don't worry—I'm not here to stop you. I just want you to be safe."
Wanda watched the exchange, her heart swelling with admiration for the deep bond between Gwen and her father. But as the conversation continued, something Chief Stacy said next caught her attention.
As dinner wound down, Chief Stacy glanced at the photo of Helen Stacy on the mantle, his expression turning somber.
"I just wish your mother were here to see this," he murmured, his voice tinged with melancholy. "She always believed you'd do great things."
The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. Wanda felt the shift in energy, her curiosity piqued. She exchanged a glance with Gwen, who quickly looked away, focusing on clearing the table.
Later that night, back at Stark Tower, Wanda and Gwen sat on the couch, the city lights casting soft shadows across the room.
Wanda hesitated before speaking. "Your dad mentioned your mom… You never talk about her."
Gwen sighed, pulling her knees up to her chest. "I don't know much. She disappeared when I was really young. Dad doesn't like to talk about it. I just know she did some work with Wakanda."
Wanda frowned. "Wakanda?"
Gwen nodded. "Yeah, something about advanced technology. But that's all I know."
Wanda leaned back, her mind racing. She'd heard whispers of Wakanda, but nothing concrete. It was a mysterious country, shrouded in secrecy.
After a few moments of silence, Wanda stood up. "I need to talk to Natasha."
Wanda found Natasha Romanoff in the kitchen, sipping on a glass of wine.
"Nat," Wanda began, leaning against the counter. "What do you know about Wakanda Gwens mother has ties with that country?"
Natasha's eyes narrowed slightly. "Wakanda isn't just any country. It's the most technologically advanced place on Earth—and it's hidden from the world for a reason. If Gwen's mom had ties to Wakanda, that's not something to take lightly."
Wanda nodded, her thoughts swirling. "Do you think it's possible she was involved in something… covert?"
Natasha's lips pressed into a thin line. "If she disappeared and had ties to Wakanda? It's more than possible. Sounds like espionage or counterintelligence to me."
Wanda returned to the living room, finding Gwen still curled up on the couch. She sat down beside her, their shoulders brushing.
"I talked to Natasha," Wanda said softly. "She thinks your mom might've been involved in something… secret. Espionage, maybe."
Gwen's eyes widened, her breath hitching. "Espionage?"
Wanda nodded. "In my experience, when someone disappears and has ties to a foreign country, it's usually not for innocent reasons."
Gwen stared at the floor, her mind racing. After a long pause, she whispered, "I always felt like she was still alive. But this… this makes sense."
Wanda reached over, gently tucking a strand of hair behind Gwen's ear. "We'll find out the truth. Together."
Gwen smiled softly, leaning into Wanda's touch. "Thanks, Wanda."
As the night stretched on, Wanda stared out at the city skyline, her mind filled with questions. Helen Stacy's disappearance was more than just a family tragedy—it was the key to something much bigger.
And Wanda was determined to uncover the truth gore Gwen even if she has no living parents Gwen deserves to have both of hers in her life.
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