Bargain Shoppers

January 04, 2016:

Wanda and Caitlin have a chance encounter while Caitlin's shopping for Carol.

Little Transia

A clothiers in little Transia in New York


NPCs: None.

Mentions: Carol Danvers


Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

Wanda is out shopping in Little Transia - which is basically an alleyway off Little Russia and known to about three people in New York. Two of those people are Maximoffs. So she is out of uniform, instead clad in boots, jeans and a sweater - it is winter after all. Currently Wanda is emerging from a traditional clothes shop with a knitted beanie that she settles onto her head with much care and wriggling to get it right. She doesn't get it right. A shopping bag from a moderately classy clothes shop hangs off one arm.

Caitlin looks like a woman who lost a bet. Her face is clean, hair pulled back in an absent-minded ponytail. The jumpsuit she's wearing, mostly unzipped, is an old set of mechanic's coveralls that, while clean, are anything but fashionable. Her t-shirt says, in tiny print, 'If you can read this, I've already rolled melee'. She walks up and down the street, looking perplexed, as if trying to find an address. It brings her to… lo and behold, Little Transia.

"Five… six… eight…" she walks a few steps. "Sixty… fifty nine… fifty eight…" She stares at the alley, frowning. "Oh! 'scuse me, miss?" she asks Wanda, waving a hand a few inches towards her to get her attention. "Hey, I'm looking for 3497 Umerland," she says, glancing at her phone. "But I can't find it. Am I on the wrong side of the street?" she says, neck craning around. Little Transia doesn't /look/ like a street, which might be what's throwing her.

"Caitlin?" Wanda asks the tall woman, peering up at her with a confused expression. "Why don't you ever remember me?" she asks before laughing. "Though I suppose no one does. It's Wanda." The witch smiles sweetly at the Caitlin in the hope that will help identify her but eventually just sighs. "At least you are wearing more clothes than the first time I saw you…just." She shyly points at the zipper. "You…umm…might want to zip up? You're almost falling out." A discrete glance at Caitlin's breasts before she clears her throat and attempts to look at the phone.

"Umerland?" Wanda frowns. "I do not know it" she states in her Eastern European accent - definitely not from round here. "What is there? Maybe I know it if you say what you are looking for there?"

Caitlin stops, then boggles. "Ohmygod! Wanda!" She holds her hands out in greeting, then remembers Wanda's aversion to sudden expressions of affection, and cups her hands over her mouth, peeking through her fingers. "Gosh! I'm- I'm so sorry! I didn't recognize you! The hair— the hat, and that outfit! You look like a million bucks" she almost reaches for Wanda again, glances down at her jumpsuit which is now unzipped almost to indecency, and with a yelp zips it up to her stomach level, leaving her t-shirt covering her more or less as modestly as it can.

She goes to move towards Wanda again, then pauses and steps back, holding arms out with fingers offered. "Can I give you a hug?" she says, almost dancing with excitement at having blundered into Wanda so clumsily.

Wanda stares as Caitlin does this strange hug-no hug dance. A million bucks? She must mean Transian dollars…which is about five dollars twenty in American. "Umm…okay…sure" she decides about the hug, even turning on a smile before she holds open her arms. That's how it's done, right? Though she will probably get a close look at that writing on her t-shirt when they do hug. So much so that she will mutter, "I don't understand" about it when she is free again.

"I have been shopping" Wanda says helpfully, even holding up the bag in her hand. "And I thought it would be better not to be in uniform so I am disguised. This way I will not feel so bad when people in the street do not recognise me." A pause. "Or people I have met before."

"Yay!" Caitlin steps in and gives Wanda a very careful but sincere hug. Considering how much of the girl feels like strapped steel under pink skin, it's probably for the best she's keeping her emotions in check. She steps back and catches Wanda reading her shirt, and tugs it taut so it's a bit less warped by her curves. "Yeah, it's a geek joke," she says, apologetically. "I play video games and stuff, and the gag is that if you're close enough to read this, then you're close enough to get boffed in the head!" She makes a 'whap' motion with her open palm. "But that only applies to pervy dudes, so it's okay."

She still looks a bit chastened at having not recognized Wanda. "Oh, so, anyway— I was trying to find this place, 'Hyram's Clothier'," she says. "I'm looking for a Christmas gift for my friend Carol and I hear he's got some awesome vintage clothing in the back of his shop, but… I can't find it," she says, looking down the alley at the clothing shop Wanda had just left. She shows Wanda the address someone had sent her— Caitlin was badly mispronouncing the street name, which is in fact that small dead-end alleyway.

"You hit people in the head when you play video games with them?" Wanda asks…the explanation didn't really help. "Pervy dudes? Hmm…I would not know about that. I do not think people are very interested in perving at me. Man. Woman. Alien." A shrug before she recognizes the name of the shop. "Ah…Umerland is not how you say it but…close enough. Follow me."

Wanda starts deeper into the alleyway, walking slowly, happy to have a friend around. "You do know that Christmas is a long way away unless…oh! Are you Eastern Orthodox?" Wanda's eyes light up in case she has something in common with Caitlin. "I mean, I am a gypsy so people think I worship the Devil but I do not."

"What— no, I mean, I /should/ have got my friend a Christmas gift, but… well, Christmas is kind of… hard for me," Caitlin admits. "I haven't really done any sort of celebration since my daddy died my freshman year of college. But Carol said she was gonna get /me/ something, however belated, so I figured I should get /her/ something, and I heard this guy has some of the old outfits from the Blackhawks. She's a pilot," Caitlin says, chattering on, as blithely happy to be out with a friend as Wanda is to have her along.

"Wait, I thought gypsys…" she blinks. "I don't know what I thought, actually. Are gypsies religious people? I thought you came from all over Europe. Do you do religious stuff? Did you do Christmas? What's a gypsy Christmas like? Ooh-" she blushes, clapping a hand to her mouth.

"Can I /say/ gypsy, or is that like, super offensive?" she whispers, looking immediately horrified at the thought of having inadvertently insulted her friend.

"I have been called worse" Wanda assures Caitlin with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Oh…I'm sorry about your father. I…I understand what it is like to lose your parents" she offers with a faint smile. Of course, Wanda killed hers…or contributed to killing them…it's all very confusing and violent and Wanda suffers whenever she remembers that day. "Blackhawks?" Nice change of subject. And then another…

"We are just normal people" Wanda smiles, "We just do not like to stay in one place. Or have rules. Or be like other people. Of course we do Christmas. I remember we used to have big gatherings and we would party for days and Pietro would always be surrounded by women and I…" A faint smile. "…would not be." Her mind seems to wander for a moment before, "Oh! Here it is. The shop you want." Wanda pushes open the door.

"Thanks," Caitlin murmurs. She smiles, albeit sadly, and gives Wanda another quick hug.

At the topic-shift to Christmas, she perks gratefully. "Ugh. So totally chauvinist," Caitlin says in sympathy. "Christmas Eve, must be time for the girls to go entertain the guys," she says, missing Wanda's point like a blind woman at bat.

The door jingles and Caitlin steps in a bit trepidatiously. Like a lot of nook and cranny stores, it's a product of years of living in and carefully taking advantage of every square inch. It's entirely an organic process and there's as many pieces of ornament and bricabrac as there is regular merchandise.

"Okay, so… I don't know for sure if this is actually for sale, or what," she tells Wanda, creeping around. "But allegedly he's got one of the /original/ costumes for the Blackhawks— they were an all-women fighter squadron during World War II, and they earned every medal the Air Corps had, and then some. Zinda Blake was the leader, and I seriously doubt that it's, like, /her/ uniform? But if it is, I might have to sell my car, 'cause I'm gonna /get/ that for Carol," she asserts, scowling.

"I hope he doesn't haggle. I'm terrible at haggling," she frets, prowling around the stuffy, densely packed room.

"He will haggle" Wanda replies with an apologetic look. "All women fighter squadron? Wow. And they probably will not be allowed to be buried in proper cemetery. Yes, very chauvanist."

This type of store Wanda is used to and she strolls around looking over everything while breathing in the dusty, and a bit damp, aroma of all these goods. "How will you know if it is real?" She smiles sweetly. "Carol must be a very good friend of yours. You really like her, da? /Really/ like her?" She has no idea what the garment looks like so follows along behind Caitlin. The 'corridors' between shelves much too narrow to walk side by side.

"Actually, no. They were all buried at Arlington, with full honors," Caitlin says, prowling around the room with heavy steps— too heavy for even a girl her size and build. "The only one who wasn't was Zinda Blake, but she's got a memorial plaque there, 'cause they never found a body to bury after this one… hmm. Where /is/ it?" she says, crossly.

"And yes, I really really like her," Caitlin says, nodding absently as she gets on her toes to look over the racks. "I had a poster of her on my wall for years, and she was my … well, my /second/ favorite superheroine after Wonder Woman, but then I met /her/, and I met Wonder Woman, and I gotta say, Captain Marvel? Officially the coolest mentor ever. I mean, y'know— Diana's basically a goddess, but Carol's just a regular human."

"I mean, albeit like, insanely pretty and confident," Caitlin amends. "So I get to work with her, and she's training me in stuff, and I really want to, y'know, get her something /nice/. Y'know?"

Caitlin's interrupted by an irate series of noises from the back of the shop. "Tu tu tu, what is noise?!" a scowling, wizened old man demands, shuffling around the racks with the glacial speed of a tortoise. "Rotten kids, stamping around my shop, making noise, what do you want? You gonna buy something?" he demands in a raspy, hoarse voice, his eyes goggles behind thick lenses and his voice thick with a heavy Romanii accent.

"It sounds like you are in love with her" Wanda giggles, "And there is nothing wrong with that. You are very lucky to feel like that…even if just friends." And then here comes Goggle-Man and Wanda offers the complaining store owner a wry smile. "We would probably buy something if you had anything that was priced properly" she sniffs before absently flicking through some clothes and fabrics. "Is there anything you have that is worth the price you put on it?"

Caitlin turns an admirable shade of crimson. "I don't love her, shuttup," she says, before turning around and hiding her face in a rack of jackets.

She's about to reply to the fellow when Wanda speaks to him so bluntly, and her eyes bulge a bit in shock. "Wanda!" she hisses, shocked at her friend's rudeness.

The goggle-eyed fellow perks oddly at Wanda's accent, shuffling rheumatically towards her and peering at her with big eyes. "Ehh, you wise-ass kids, you don't know quality if it bite you in the ass," he wheezes. "You won't find better prices anywhere in the City, not for this quality," he says, an oddly eager tone entering his voice as Wanda starts haggling with him in such a familiar fashion.

"If I wore this piece of rubbish on my ass I doubt I would feel anything biting me" Wanda surmises as she looks over some jeans. "And where would be the fun in that?" she shrugs before looking confused at Caitlin. "What? What did I do wrong?" Then her eyes turn back on Goggles and she purses her lips in thought. "Hmm…I would ask you if you had…no…not in this poor shop. You wouldn't have something as interesting as a flight jacket.

Caitlin's almost spellbound by the sudden, sassy shift in Wanda's demeanour, but the old fellow seems to enjoy it. She stands aside to let Wanda take over.

"Pffah! You think I don't have quality? You're an idiot, you don't know what you're saying. /Quality/ denim, lookit this thread count, and what're you wearing, eh? You're dressed like a Polish pig farmer," he snorts at Wanda.

A finger jabs up at a high-up shelf. "There, see? Flight jacket," he says, gesturing at a mannequin. It's not just a flight jacket— it's an entire ensemble. Dusty, but well cared for, with the signature hat of the Blackbirds cocked at a jaunty angle. "My auntie gave that to me when I opened this shop in 1954, said that it would bring in all the classy ladies."

"This denim is made from old sails rescued from ships that sank" replies Wanda before snorting at his comments. "A Polish pig farmer would make a lot more money than you make in this pig sty. At least the shit they have is worth something." The banter sounds worse than it is.

Wanda looks up at the mannequin. "Has it worked?" she asks about the classy ladies. "Is it for sale or is it just to attract moths?" Wanda frowns. "I do not know if that is what we are after. 1954? So it has been eaten for over sixty years? I think if you move it then it will fall apart."

Caitlin squeaks audibly when she spots the jacket and outfit, but the fellow is so ready to wrangle with Wanda that he ignores it, his heavy Slavic accent distinctly peppered with Romani tonals that are coming thicker and thicker. "Pah! For sale, she says. Young lady, everything's for sale for the right price," he says, waggling a finger at her as if reprimanding a faux pas instead of the notion of buying it. "Don't ever forget that. It's in perfect condition, leather treatment, and no moths! I spray for moths every month, just don't tell the health inspector, ehh?" he says, giving her tricep a grandfatherly squeeze. He shuffles over to the mannequin, eyeing it, then casts around for a stepladder.

Caitlin gingerly steps up and takes the mannequin down for him, and is rewarded with a few weak swats to her hands for her efforts. Still, he takes it from her. "Fah! You'll break it," he complains hoarsely. He sets the mannequin on the lone empty table and displays it proudly. "There, original issue, Second World War. My aunt knew the gal who wore it, said she was one of the only female pilots who served in the Air Corps."

"Female pilots? What female pilots?" Wanda asks innocently. "And who is your aunt? How did she get another woman's clothes? Or should I not ask? It was a different time back there and their 'friendship' may not have been acceptable." A sly look at Caitlin after her recent admission of friendliness.

Wanda walks slowly around the mannequin as best she can in the crowded shop and shrugs. "Hmm…can you prove this is original or do I just take the word of your mysterious aunt? Why is it not in a museum?"

"Tchaa! You aren't too old for me to take over my knee and paddle, young lady, so don't say things!" the fellow says, jabbing a bony index finger at her. For a man well into his late eighties, his hands are certainly strong and nimble.

"There, see, right there, 'Official Issue'," he says, turning out the inside of the jacket to show her the label. In faded black ink, ZB has been applied on the cloth label that shows the military nomenclature and care instructions. "She was one of the Army nurses, it was right at the end of the war. The woman dropped it off before going on leave, said she'd be back— never came back." He shrugs, as if that's self-evident; after all, Romani tradition makes that tantamount to a gift. "Said she was famous, even. Flew all over Europe fighting the Nazis. Ptah!" He spits on the ground at the mention of that name, and crosses himself.

"The way that my love life is going I might even appreciate being over an old man's lap" Wanda smirks before looking to Caitlin. "What do you think? It could be fake but since we only need a flight jacket, is this good enough?" A look back at Goggles. "We do not really care who wore it but we will be wearing it now. Anyway, if it is so glorious, why is it still here? No one has wanted to buy it in all this time?"

Caitlin can't help it. She titters, then it turns into a snort. She instantly claps her hands over her mouth. "Sorry," she whispers, flushing again.

"A women's bomber jacket?" He snorts, glancing at Caitlin. "How many women wear one? No one wanted surplus clothes after the War, yanno, 'cause it was everywhere, and then I put it up on display like I said, in fifty-something. How many girls want vintage clothing? And I'm not breaking that set up, it's too nice to break up, and I'm not selling it to some curva looking for a Halloween costume." The skirt on the outfit is, by the standards of the '40s, quite short, though hardly licentious by contemporary standards.

"Besides, it looks good, huh? Nice leather, good material, even for wartime." He tugs on the stiching to show off the manufacture.

"So not only are you asking us to buy something you have not been able to sell for sixty years but we /also/ have to take the rest of the outfit?" gasps Wanda, shaking her head at the insanity of it all. "Who would wear an Air Force uniform? The jacket…maybe…but the shirt and blouse? You should be paying /us/ to let you use the mannequin for something worthwhile." A soft sigh. "Fine. How much for the lot?"

It gets down to haggling, then, and Caitlin watches, spellbound, as the two of them start entering into the old dance. The man starts with an absurd figure about four times more than what's reasonable— Wanda's counter gets a long argument about rarity. Her counter on fitment gets an offer of free tailoring, but she clever rebuts that it'd ruin the value to alter it at all.

It goes on for about thirty minutes, and he lands on a price of about four hundred dollars. Caitlin visibly swallows, but he's firm on that price and won't budge. He spits in his hand and offers it to Wanda. "Five hundred it is, and just because you're a good Romani girl who I'd take dancing if I were sixty years younger, I'll wrap it up properly for you," he says, before shuffling to the register. "And some of my grandmother's old leather treatment cream, it's better than anything you'll find in American. Just don't eat it, very poisonous."

"Five hundred? I thought it was four hundred" Wanda replies before spitting on her own hand. "But because you are old and might not have long to spend it, five hundred it is." They shake hands before the witch smiles to Caitlin. "I hope that is okay. I am sure that your…friend…will like it very much. It is one of a kin after all." She peers over at Goggles. "Pink ribbon around it!"

"Ahhh, damnit, you got me," the old man wheezes. "Four fifty," he says, in a fit of largesse. He starts shuffling over to ring it up, but instead of using the point of sale terminal, he starts writing on a notepad, in deliberate, slow efforts.

"…is there something wrong with your computer?" Caitlin says, breaking her silence. She glances nervously at Wanda, then back at the fellow, who peers at her over his glasses.

"Damned thing hasn't worked right in four years," he wheezes. "Had to go back to using my old handbook receipts. Good job I know where everything is, but it makes my bookeeeping ten times worse. Never thought I'd get used to a computer. Feh," he snorts, going back to the receipt.

"I'll fix your computer," Caitlin says, suddenly. "I'm really good with them. I'll get it running and I'll even show you how to post your stuff online. There are people who love shopping for vintage clothes and if you market this stuff in the right places, you'll get tons more traffic. But you gottaa cut me a deal. For.. um…"

And she didn't want to haggle. Wanda smiles fondly at Caitlin as the tall woman starts her spiel before going back to browsing the shop. Computers? Wanda knows next to nothing about them. And she doesn't want to know about them either. At the moment she can pretend that the reason she doesn't get fan mail is because she can't figure out the e-mail system. To know that it is because she has no fans would be horrible!

"…half," Caitlin says, perhaps with less ceritude than she should. The fellow eyes her, then eyes Wanda, and visibly scratches out a '4' and writes in '225'. "Half it is, but you give me your phone number and you'll get it fixed sharp, huh?" he says, filling out the ticket. "And only because you have good taste in friends, do I trust you."

He finishes filling out the form and wraps the ensemble up in wax paper, tying it off carefully, and then puts the cap in a proper hatbox. "There, all set for a couple of pretty girls. You come back anytime, my dear," he tells Wanda, shuffling forward to give her a kiss on the cheek and a hug. "Even if you just show up and lie to an old man, tell me how handsome I was. I've got a grand-nephew your age, he's a contractor, I'll set you two up."

"A contractor?" Wanda glances at Caitlin. "I do not know what that is" she admits to the two of them with a shrug. "But I think I will come visit and buy some more of your worthless stock so you can buy old soup to live on" she grins wickedly. A kiss to the old man's cheek before she is leading Caitlin out into the alley. "Come on, Caitlin. We have to get out of here before the mold in the air eats all our clothes."

Once outside, Caitlin makes it about ten paces before she leans against the wall, shaking and wide eyed. "Wanda, that was /incredible/," she says, a bit breathlessly. "I'm more shaken up than the last time I got in a fight. I've never seen anyone haggle like that before. You were like a totally different person!" She hugs her gifts against her chest, carefully. "And this is… this is just what I wanted! Carol's gonna love this. It's just iconic."

"You got the last discount" Wanda points out with a smile. "Totally different person? Who was I like?" She is asking a serious question apparently. "I have haggled all my life. It is what is expected. He would have been upset if we did not." Her smile grows warmer at Caitlin's excitement. "I think she will love it" Wanda nods, "And the person who gave it to her." A glance at the bags in her hands as she sighs. "And I have to go home and get nice photographs to put on xHarmony. Lunair said she would help me."

"I don't think I've met Lunair, but she sounds nice," Caitlin says. "And I — I didn't mean anything /bad/. Just you were… so assertive, you know? Like, you knew telling that guy just how it is." She flashes a megawatt smile at Wanda and gives her an awkward, one armed hug. "Thank you so much, Wanda. I really appreciate this. And I think Carol will really like it, too. Can I help with the xHarmony stuff? Is that like some kind of alternative dating site?" she asks the woman, falling in step. "I'm pretty good at photographs, y'know, and I've got a knack for social media. You know I curate #supers, right? On Instagram and Pinterest?"

"I don't know what #supers is" Wanda frowns as they start wandering. "xHarmony is a dating service for mutants. Maybe I should try eHarmony as well?" She thinks on that then shakes her head. "No. I do not think any normal person could put up with me. A vampire could not even put up with me. Yes, Lunair is very nice and very sweet to help me. I am just sick of being lonely" Wanda admits, "But then I think of what it would be like for the other person if I am not and maybe I am better off with no date."

Caitlin digs out her phone with one hand, flicking the screen 'on' and bringin up her app. She shows Wanda several photos on Pinterest of superheroes going about their duties— saving people, mugging for pictures, smiling broadly. "That's my most recent one," she says, showing a picture of Johnny Storm afire, leaning against her. "He's pretty funny, if a bit weird. In a cute way," she amends.

"I think try eHarmony, too. I mean, it can't hurt, right? But you never know," she says. "I mean, lookit me, who am I gonna date? I'm a floppapotamus with big feet and bad hair. But I keep getting… admittedly, /pervy/, IMs from dudes. So…?" She shrugs. "Plenty of fish in the sea, y'know? And I mean, lookit you. You're clever, you're super confident, you're megahot. If nothing else, you can get some, uh, friendly time?" she says, blushing a bit at her attempt at some suggestive levity.

"You are hot, Caitlin, do not be silly" Wanda gently admonishes. "The first time I saw you I knew that…I think your disintegreated." A laugh and a shake of her head. "No, I am not hot…or confident…or clever. I cannot even keep the attention of the dead. Friendly time?" She stares at Caitlin for a long moment before it is her turn to blush. "I do not think anyone would want that…would they? Besides, I am not very good at that kind of thing. I think I am a born again virgin by now."

"Uh, well… that… puts you one up on me," Caitlin admits, attempting to suppress more furious blushing. Never let that girl play poker. "And thank god, Carol got me some unstable molecule gear, it's a bit less, um… breakable. I haven't had a major wardrobe malfunction in months."

She kicks a can awkwardly. "Gosh, so, how freakin' stereotypical are we right now, huh?" she laughs, the sound a bit forced. She tugs on her rough ponytail, which looks like it's in a scunhie so it's out of her way, rather than for fashion. "Guess we should both work on our self-esteem. I think you'll find a special guy," Caitlin tells Wanda with another beaming smile. "You just gotta stay optimistic. But, meanwhile, we can always hang out and have a girl's night," she tells Wanda. "I mean, that's a thing, right? Gosh, I went from having no girlfriends to having a bunch of them," she blinks, chattering blithely. "I read in Cosmo that girls do girl nights, so I'm like 'hey, girls' night'. I've got a movie night planned with Carol and my friend Kara, so that'll be awesome. We're gonna watch Star Wars and Kara's gonna help me figure out why my hair looks like a wool brush."

"Maybe" Wanda shrugs about a special guy. "I thought I had one but he is not interested in me at all." A pause before she adds softly. "Does not have to be a guy." Thankfully there is a distraction. "I think a girls night is something that happens" she nods soberly. "I sometimes spend evening talking with Brinley but she has boyfriend now…I think. She did have…" Wanda looks up at Caitlin's hair and considers it carefully. "It does not look like a wool brush" she assures the other woman. "It will be all the flying when it does. I do no think they make conditioner for flying people."

"Or girl!" Caitlin fairly yelps. "Or girl. Sorry. I… y'know." She looks very embarassed. "I… y'know, I'm not… you know, judgemental, I'm just… y'know, small town, I forget sometimes." She winces, looking abashed.

"I can't fly," she says, after a beat. "I get rides from Kara or Carol if we're in a hurry. Or I run on rooftops, but I get yelled at for that, 'cause, y'know. Floppapotamus," she says, dropping a foot on the ground with a *thud*. Catilin's steps sound like she weighs improbably more than she looks. "I… well, gosh, Wanda, you know, I'm at the Lakehouse these days," she tells Wanda. "It's practically the Ritz, I'm so close to uptown. I don't know how often you're in town anymore, but you can come visit, at least— I have a really comfy sofa if you don't want the guest room."

"I stay at X-Red HQ. I am X-Man now…X-Woman" Wanda smiles proudly, though she did say 'stay' rather than 'live'. "I thought I had seen you fly. I must be wrong…obviously." There is a rosy hue to the Romani's cheeks - she's a country girl too. "I did not mean to have a girlfriend. She really liked me…at least until she left one night and never came back. But it was…nice."

A bashful shrug before Wanda nudges Caitlin. "You are not Floppapotamaus so you have to stop saying that. Maybe I will come visit some time. I think I would like that and you can tell me how much Carol loved the clothes. But for now I had better get back to base." She hugs her much taller friend. "So nice to see you again. You are good person, Caitlin, do not forget this." A kiss to each cheek…if she can reach…before Wanda is heading uptown.

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