➢𝗗𝗜𝗡𝗡𝗘𝗥 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗬➢

『 Isn't it lovely, all alone?
Heart made of glass, my mind of stone
Tear me to pieces, skin to bone
Hello, welcome home』
𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐄𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇 ─ ♫ !  𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲

⟶𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 2: 𝑾𝒆𝒍𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝑯𝒐𝒎𝒆⟵

☟

𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖 . . .

𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 . . .

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝟏: 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐌𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐎 𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄

𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐜. Wanda and Vision struggle to conceal their powers during a dinner with Vision's boss and his wife.

𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶 — 𝚆𝙰𝙽𝙳𝙰 𝙼𝙰𝚇𝙸𝙼𝙾𝙵𝙵

—𝚅𝙸𝚂𝙸𝙾𝙽

—𝙲𝙰𝙸𝚃𝙻𝚈𝙽 𝙴𝙻𝙸𝚉𝙰𝙱𝙴𝚃𝙷 𝚂𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙶𝙴

—𝙰𝙶𝙽𝙴𝚂

—𝙼𝚁. & 𝙼𝚁𝚂. 𝙷𝙰𝚁𝚃 ❤️

—𝙽𝙾𝚁𝙼

𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖 . . .

THE LIGHTS ARE DIMMED LOW INSIDE WANDA AND VISION'S HOME, Vision leading the figures of his boss and his wife into the house. A scarf covers a lamp, candles are the only source of light, and romantic jazz music softly plays. The mood has been set.

Entering with Mr. and Mrs. Hart, Vision with his briefcase in one hand opens the door with the other. "Here we are!"

Mrs. Hart, an older, shorter woman, expresses her reaction to the space. "Oh... How very atmospheric!"

Her husband, Vision's boss, reacts opposingly. "What's going on here, Vision? You blow a fuse?"

He makes note of the dim lights, and with that, the human synthezoid still dressed in a suit and tie politely excuses himself—in a bit of nervousness himself. "Pardon me while I just go and fetch the lady of the house."

With Vision exiting toward the kitchen, the Harts remain in the foyer. Wanda enters from the bedroom hallway unknowingly, and on her, she is wearing a 1950s nightgown and a silk robe. The audience is in amusement as she sneaks up behind Mr. Hart and covers his eyes with her magic hands, not in use right now.

"Guess who?" Wanda questions, seductively.

But then that is when all goes wrong.

It was not supposed to go like this in the first place.

Just then Vision returns from looking in the kitchen and flips on the lights to find his wife dressed in a not-so-appropriate outfit for when guests are over.

"Wanda!" He calls to her.

"Vision?" She answers back, removing her hands from shielding the older man's eyes—NOT her husband—and instantly folds into herself with embarrassment.

The live audience laughs.

Just then, holding a stick of two candles herself, Caitlyn Elizabeth strides through the kitchen door near Vision before then letting out a gasp of her own at the unexpected company.

"Gee Willikers!" she exclaims, stepping backward on her high-heels.

Mrs. Hart points her out, aghast. "Who is she?"

"I'm a Caitlyn—" Caitlyn begins, however, visibly scolds herself.

Mr. Hart has a more relevant question, his tone rising.

"What is the meaning of this?!"

"Well, what is..." Vision stumbles, before finding his footing. "Yeah, well, what is the meaning... Oh, the meaning of it!"

After a moment of recovery, Vision comes up with an excuse.

He improvises. "You want to know the meaning of it and the meaning of it is that this is the traditional... Sokovian greeting of hospitality."

Wanda starts to nod and quickly crosses to Vision, him covering her eyes. Wanda plays along.

"Uh, guess who?"

"Oh, who is that, my host behind me?"

"It certainly is!"

Wanda turns around. "Lovely to make your acquaintance!"

"Yes!"

They shake hands heartily, chuckling nervously. The audience is full of laughter.

Caitlyn repeats. "Gee Willikers."

She remains by the kitchen door and immediately picks up on the pleased expression coming from Mrs. Hart, and the displeased expression coming from Mr. Hart.

Vision still covers, swinging Wanda's hand. "See I forgot to tell you, my wife is from Europe."

"How exotic!" Mrs. Hart comments.

Mr. Hart has some discretion. "We don't break bread with Bolsheviks."

"Oh hush now, Arthur!" His wife shushes him. "Have you no culture at all?"

She points out Wanda's attire. "And that dress..."

Vision tells the couple while still holding hands with his significant other—squeezing grip— "Yes! It's. it's so... Sokovian is what it is! Yes!"

Wanda while swiping a scarf from being on a lamp, has snapped back to current circumstances—something wasn't right—and so she grabs onto the hand of her spouse. "Uh, could I see you in the kitchen for a moment, sweetheart?"

"Oh, yes." Vision responds back as if everything were normal.

He also tries blowing candles on the way out.

This just leaves Caitlyn with Mr. and Mrs. Hart, and, not wanting to be standing in the foyer much longer—not wanting to be talking to people—the girl garners the excuse of needing to follow Wanda and Vision into the kitchen. She intakes a big breath and blows out the candles she holds in her hands.

She is putting them away while remaining behind the tall figure of Vision, and in front of him, his wife shoots an important question his way.

"Who are those people?!"

Vision fires back, incredulous. "What are you wearing?!"

"Why are they here?" She asks him.

Vision presses further.

"What are you wearing?!"

"Well, it's our anniversary!" She tells him.

And the human synthezoid is confused. "Anniversary of what?"

"Well if you don't know, I'm not going to tell you!"

Wanda, giving up, huffs and crosses her arms—acting hurt as she circles around the kitchen counter, upset.

"I think it's about time you explain yourself, Mr. Vision," Caitlyn adds this time, also crossing her arms, though in a more outward way—she wants to get to the bottom of this, for Wanda.

Vision points a finger and explains. "That... That man out there is my boss, Mr. Hart, and his dear lady wife, Mrs. Hart."

"The heart on the calendar - it was an abbreviation."

He receives a look from both Wanda and Caitlyn, the woman expressing. "You move at the speed of sound and I can make a pen float through the air... who needs to abbreviate?!"

"For sure," Caitlyn adds on, still by the swinging door in the kitchen.

The audience laughs, Wanda and Vision coming closer together—and the male is immediately consoled.

"Darling, listen, it's all romantic to-do the candles, the music, that stunning outfit..." his deeper voice brings a brief blush to Wanda's face, Vision refocusing a moment later.

I don't wanna be unappreciative, but right now—"

Wanda finishes him off. "Your boss and his wife are expecting a home-cooked meal."

"Exactly!" Vision replies with a short smile.

Wanda sighs. From behind the kitchen counter, Caitlyn folds her hands.

"Any chance they'd settle for a single chocolate-covered strawberry split three ways?"

The audience is filled with laughter once more as a wince is brought to the synthezoid's features, and Wanda and Vision need a plan. Luckily, the lady of the house has got one.

"I might have a better idea..."

The other blonde young woman circles around the kitchen area to be the side opposite to Vision, of Wanda. In a pinch—quite literally—Wanda transforms her risky nightgown into a tasteful cocktail dress, still from the 1950s era, of course.

Her outfit with a bow in the front and an off-shoulder look results in the young woman next to her, complimenting her.

"I like that idea."

Wanda smiles.

The screen transitions and several minutes later, Vision is in the living room with Mr. and Mrs. Hart, having a conversation about work. Mrs. Hart looks incredibly disinterested.

From inside the kitchen, more commotion is going on—and it starts with Wanda opening the door for her neighbor, Agnes. She carries a heaping amount of cutlery and food.

"Oh, Agnes," Wanda exclaims. "You're a lifesaver!"

The dark-haired woman shrugs. "Oh, what kind of housewife would I be if I didn't have a gourmet meal for four just lying about the place?"

She mentions her husband—not in a great way—again. "Not that Ralph ever wants to eat anything other than baked beans. That explains a lot about his personal appeal, mind you."

A silver pot slips out of her hands and crashes to the floor, causing a loud bang. "Oh my!"

Scrambling, Caitlyn is quick to pick up the pot, placing it back on the table while outside Mrs. Hart attempts to get into the kitchen. Vision keeps her in the foyer.

He says loudly. "That's so kind of you, Mrs. Hart, but I'm certain she and Caitlyn are perfectly fine in there!"

At the mention of their names, Wanda hears this and understands that she must get moving—after all, Vision's job status was dependent on it. She begins to strategize making a meal for his boss and wife.

And with extra hands, this shouldn't be too bad.

"Oh, thank you, Agnes," Wanda says earnestly, but insists. "I think I've got it covered from here."

Her neighbor is persistent. "Oh, are you sure, dear? Many hands make light work. And many mouths make good gossip!"

Wanda takes her claim playfully. "You're so naughty!"

Though adds on in defense. "And besides, I've got Caitlyn."

A glance over at the other young woman, who chuckles nervously, Agnes looking Caitlyn up and down—it makes her uncomfortable. "Oh, you sure this lady can be an entertainer?"

The audience doesn't notice. "I can certainly try! Goodnight, Agnes."

"Oh, shall I just pre-heat the oven, then?"

That won't be necessary—" Wanda assures her, and through the following, Wanda is trying to push her out.

"Oh. All right, then."

Wanda opens the door.

Caitlyn watches quietly as Agnes finds her way back in, "Well, I know you're in a pinch so this menu can be done in a snap: Lobster Thermidor and mini- mincemeat turnovers to start, Chicken à la King with twice-cooked new potatoes for your second course, and Steak Diane with mint jelly as your main."

Agnes claps her hands together before asking. "Do you set your own jellies, dear?"

Wanda answers the question almost in a tone that mimics the same inquisition. "...Yes."

Either way, she wants Agnes out.

"Good girl. Recipe cards are on the counter there." Wanda holds her waist as she finally gets her in front of the door, and on the way out, the woman entertains.

"Bon appetit!"

Closing the door after her, Wanda approaches the main area of the kitchen again, though she is not alone.

Her fake chuckle at Agnes' departure is replaced by a straight-toned face, Caitlyn nearing her side upon backing up a few steps—cautiously, in her heels, and for some reason, her hands are still wringing in front of her.

Wanda works to soothe her by including her in the task about to be done, as always.

It does not help soothe her.

"Are you ready for this?" Wanda asks Caitlyn.

The young woman lets go of her hands and nods.

"I was born ready... to be a housewife."

Finally, with Agnes out the door, Wanda raises her hands and sets everything into motion—needing to use her abilities. Caitlyn prepares to help her.

Vision and the Harts hear a great deal of commotion coming from the kitchen.

This leads to Mrs. Hart rising to her feet. "You men stay put. I sense a domestic emergency, so..."

Vision is urgent to stop her. "Mrs. Hart, please don't. You can't."

"You... please."

It becomes too late. Mrs. Hart reaches through to the wooden blinds and opens them, but before Wanda and Caitlyn's powers are revealed—Vision starts to sing.

He distracts Mrs. Hart.

"Take out the papers and the trash!"

"Or you won't get no spendin' cash!"

Vision is as stiff as a robot, but he succeeds in stealing Mrs. Hart's attention from what is happening in the kitchen—and in addition, Caitlyn's attention as well.

The woman watches with wide eyes as Vision completes the song Yakety Yack which he heard in his office at work.

Wanda tilts her head in confusion while bowls are mixing and knives are chopping per her neuroelectronic abilities.

"If you don't scrub that kitchen floor!"

"You ain't gonna rock n' roll no more..."

"Yakety Yak!" He completes in a low voice, "Don't talk back."

The audience cheers and Caitlyn begins to applaud with them, only until realizing where she is at the moment. Her features fall. She runs forward daintily and shuts both of the blinds.

Vision suggests they have a sing-along.

✦✦✦

In the kitchen, moments later, Wanda is scrambling. She is scrambling to get a meal going... to be a housewife, and it is not going so well. Caitlyn has been trying to help.

She uses a very basic spell to cook the chicken but overestimates the heat, burning it to a crisp.

Wanda gasps. "Oh no! Too much!"

Caitlyn from aside her, also wearing an apron, leans over the counter. "You see, I wasn't going to say anything..."

Wanda waves her hands to try and reverse the damage she had done, but in a puff of smoke, she now has a basket of eggs—definitely no longer a chicken. Caitlyn widens her eyes.

Wanda expresses the obvious. "Oh no! Not enough!"

"Now I am saying something..." the other woman interjects.

But in the living room, Vision has a gaggle with Mrs. Hart in singing a rendition of Old MacDonald Had A Farm... Mr. Hart is now uninterested.

"Uh, Wanda?" Caitlyn brings attention to the pots bubbling over and mixing bowls spilling, creating another inevitable disaster for the night.

The young woman turns to look at the other when not getting a response and quickly crosses over to cipher through the recipe cards Agnes left—them floating in the air in front.

Wanda flips through a few, voice tensing with stress. "Oh, what was I supposed to do next?"

"Oh, what was the main course again?"

"It was steak," Caitlyn answers sharply, without having to look through the cards, though she does so anyway to stay in character.

"It was... Steak." Wanda repeats, and she repeats it again. "No. Steak... Steak..."

Without restraint, Wanda shouts the second name of the main course meal she was supposed to make.

"DIANE!"

Vision, from in the living room, startled, answers. "Yes! Oh, I think that must be my wife summoning me."

Mr. Hart displays his confusion. "She calls you... 'Diane'?"

Vision still attempts to dispel it. "Yes, it's her pet name for me."

"I'm just coming..." He calls out. "Fred..."

He says to the Harts. "Excuse me a moment."

As he enters through the swinging door, there is a glimpse of lobsters flying and Caitlyn cooking.

When Wanda picks up on the presence of someone other than her or Caitlyn in the kitchen, she panics—sending those lobsters flying out the window and then shutting it. "Oh, no!"

"How can I be of assistance?" Vision asks the two.

Wanda answers, Caitlyn manually stirs a mixture in a bowl. "Well, the chicken is no longer a chicken and the lobsters just flew the coop, so the steak is the last man standing."

"It says here I can cut down the prep time with a meat tenderizer." She reads off the recipe card.

Vision steps forward, looking around. "Excellent plan—where's the meat tenderizer?"

Wanda points at him with the cooking device. "I'm looking at him."

"Ah." Vision nods.

"What an unusual couple." Caitlyn poses.

The audience laughs and Wanda hands Vision the mallet. Meanwhile, Mrs. Hart opens the blinds from in the foyer.

"Hoo hoo in there!"

Wanda grabs hold of the blinds and cheerfully—rapidly—greets back. "Hoo hoo back to you!"

She latches them shut.

An idea of more distraction then surfaces in Wanda's brain, and circling behind Caitlyn and giving her shoulders another reassuring squeeze—Wanda tells her. "Stay here."

"Roger." The young woman affirms.

Untying her apron and tossing it his way, the wife then instructs her husband. "Finish the meat, find the lobsters. I'll be right back!"

Wanda entertains Mr. and Mrs. Hart based on the seduction techniques Agnes told her about in her crackerjack of a magazine.

The knock at the door causes both Wanda and Vision to flounder.

"Who could that be?"

"Coming!"

Vision rushes out of the kitchen, now wearing Wanda's apron, and the two open the door together, only to find Agnes standing there.

She holds a pineapple. "Oh, you didn't answer at the back door."

"For your upside-down cake!"

She notices the extra company. "Oh, hi—!"

Wanda shuts the front door.

"Who was that?" Mr. Hart asks.

Wanda and Vision both give different answers.

"A salesman."

"A man selling telegrams."

Vision corrects himself. "A telegram."

Wanda adds on. "Wouldn't you know it—good news is more expensive!"

Silence is overlapped by audience laughter.

And Vision's words to Wanda. "I couldn't find the lobsters, and did you want the meat tender or pulverized?"

"Oh, dear." Wanda takes back the apron.

Then she rushes to the kitchen.

Caitlyn is standing there, still in her polka dot dress and apron, and she notices that there is something else swimming in Wanda's eyes. Mrs. Hart's head is spinning.

She seems more confident.

"Time to improvise..."

She will need a little more assurance, though.

And with Caitlyn's presence, the young woman steps forward, responding to Wanda grabbing the whisk.

"You still have eggs. How about you make breakfast for dinner?"

Wanda's expression instantly eases, her self-esteem increasing—and that was all because she wasn't alone. She had Caitlyn.

"What would I do without you?"

Caitlyn Strange pauses before touching her hand with a smile. "You'd be just fine."

✦✦✦

MR. HART IS SCOLDING VISION. "You know, I'm beginning to think you're not management material, Vision. You know, I had high hopes for you."

"But from what I've seen here tonight, you can barely keep it together."

He gestures with his hands. "I mean, look around. There's all this chaos going on in your household!"

While Mr. Hart goes on with his tirade—Mrs. Hart sitting on the couch near him—there truly is chaos going on behind them. Using her magic, Wanda flies full plates of scrambled eggs, toast, and a single strawberry on top of fruit salad. Water and wine glasses are filled by the same handless action, and rings slide around napkins as they fold themselves.

The table comes together as a whole just as Mr. Hart practically demands.

"Now, when are we gonna eat?!"

Wanda and Caitlyn appear from outside the kitchen door. The young woman still has her apron on.

"Dinner is served."

The Harts turn around and Wanda is standing next to a table set for four. Her hands are in front of her, and a nice smile overtakes her features as she stands next to domestic excellence.

"Ah," Vision comments.

Mr. Hart is more critical. "Breakfast for dinner? How very..."

Mrs. Hart hits his chest and finishes with a pleasing smile. "European."

Vision—literally—sparks an idea. "Ooh! Let's have a toast!"

He makes his way toward the neatly designed table, soon followed by the Harts and Wanda, and Vision honors her—raising his glass.

"To my lovely and talented wife."

Wanda adds him.

"To our esteemed guests!"

They all raise their glasses and clink! The night is already coming closer to an end. Wanda and Vision are both beyond relieved, and so is Caitlyn—their... Well, she didn't know.

She assumes the temporary role of a maid.

After Wanda says. "Well, please, eat, before it gets cold."

"And I will start on the dishes..."

Caitlyn makes it her mission to keep on her apron and starts to head back into the kitchen to do housework for the unusual couple when a hand expeditiously grabs onto her wrist.

Wanda's grip is not at all vice, but still tight. "Not so fast."

She is enthusiastic, making direct eye contact with Caitlyn as she speaks. "You've been on your feet all day, you are going to sit and eat with us."

Her forcefulness is met with bashfulness, Caitlyn trying to reason. "But there are only four chairs..."

"We have an extra in the kitchen." The look in Wanda's eye reads the belief that she had just created a chair with her magic, in her mind.

Caitlyn Elizabeth is polite."Wanda, really... You don't have to—"

She is stopped by the curly-haired woman. An incredibly powerful, and unstoppable woman.

One who is unstoppable in her mission to get the younger girl to relax, to feel comfortable—to eat with them. "Nonsense. I mean, after all..."

Wanda says in a softer tone, a normal 1950s-Esque grin fading just a bit—for only a moment.

She is genuine.

"You're... like family."

Caitlyn stares back at her, unsure. When Wanda moves to squeeze her hand, on the way giving an encouraging smile, she eventually gives in—almost sighing when exhaling air.

"Okay."

Caitlyn lets go of her hand and begins untying the string on her apron while walking back into the kitchen. She comes back with a chair.

Placing it in-between Mr. Hart and Wanda, Mrs. Hart from across her acknowledges the amicableness between the two young women—first asking Wanda. "And this is your nanny?"

"Oh, no!" Caitlyn says with a quick chuckle, laughing the incorrect label off. "Don't see any ankle-biters around here now, do you?"

Her rebuttal then results in the question being pondered of what the correct label actually was... Who was Caitlyn to Wanda and Vision? To Wanda?

She doesn't need to ask it aloud when Mrs. Hart does that for her. "So, what's the relationship between you two, then?"

"Mother's helper?"

Caitlyn turns to Wanda for an answer, who undoubtedly—later learned, out of reflex—turns to look right back at her. As if she knew. She has no idea.

What is she doing here?

The woman finds an answer. " ... She's my... friend." Wanda gives Caitlyn a look, one that is followed by attentive nods. "And she's been very helpful since Vision and I moved in. She knows the area well."

Her words are not a lie, not a part of some script, and that is proven when Caitlyn finds herself speaking without realizing, "Yes,"

Both Mrs. Hart and Wanda are looking at her and growing increasingly uncomfortable, words continue to overflow out of her mouth—ones she was not even cognitively thinking about at the moment.

"Y-Yes I do." Caitlyn agrees when talking about her birthplace, which is where Wanda and Vision now live.

"I grew up here, in Westview, actually."

"Oh, really?" Mrs. Hart is intrigued.

Caitlyn cannot hold eye contact with her for too long before she sees something more and feels it. PAIN—

All dig into the delicious breakfast-for-dinner meal Wanda has prepared—that Caitlyn suggested and helped with—when Mrs. Hart begins digging in—asking more questions. "So where did you two move from? What brought you here? How long have you been married? And why don't you have children yet?"

Wanda opens her mouth, halting when unfolding her napkin and seeming to discover that she's having trouble answering some of those questions. Nary, all of them.

Her staring off into space leaves Vision to try and tackle the query, giving a light chuckle himself when starting to reply. "I think what my wife means to say is, that we moved from..."

"Yes, we moved from..." Wanda copies him, but neither of them ever finishes their sentence. The question.

Caitlyn sips on her water noiselessly.

Vision attempts to move on to the second question posed by Mrs. Hart, but ends up just having a hard time. "And we were married..."

Wanda nods and gestures with a hand. "Yes, we were married..."

She stops short, though, glancing at Vision.

Silence fills the air at the table.

Both reach for answers to Mrs. Hart's—apparently difficult—questions, and unfortunately, find none.

Mr. Hart does not like that. "Well? Moved from where? Married when?"

Caitlyn remains quiet, keeping her eyes on Wanda—which widen.

Mrs. Hart again chides her husband. "Now patience, Arthur. They're setting up their story. Let them tell it."

Wanda smiles politely but very quickly this is becoming awkward.

Open-ended, Wanda begins, a nervous chuckle afterward. "Our story..."

She emphasizes their comeuppance, only to find it not there—it doesn't exist. Not in this show.

Once again, Mr. Hart does not like that.

"Yes, what exactly is your story?"

Mrs. Hart becomes unsettled at the sudden anger in her husband, wanting to move away from this topic.

"Oh, just leave the poor kids alone."

Mr. Hart does not listen to his wife.

"No, really, I mean, I think it's a perfectly simple question," he continues, harsher. "Honestly. Why did you come here?"

Wanda's gaze stares off into the distance. Caitlyn still stares at Wanda.

"Why?"

No answer from Wanda and no answer from Vision causes an amount of anger to boil from Mr. Hart, a lot of it. Caitlyn flinches at the pound of his fist on the table.

He demands.

"Dammit, why! Why did you—"

Mr. Hart is cut off by himself, silencing and going to grab his throat—and from next to Caitlyn, his gaze widens.

MR. HART STARTS CHOKING.

"Oh, Arthur! Stop it!" his wife scolds him.

This doesn't feel real at first, after everything that had been seen. In fact, it feels like another joke. More comedy, as with Wanda's fall, Vision's singing...

But Mr. Hart continues to choke, he doesn't stop. Wanda and Vision watch in horror as Mr. Hart lurches up out of his chair, clutching his throat, and falls behind the table. The camera work is unsteady and has to work to follow what is unfolding. Mr. Hart is fighting for his life.

From next to the adult man, in a chair spawned by the mastermind herself, Caitlyn Elizabeth Strange is helpless with a copy and pasted—cheesy—grin on her face. It almost never leaves. She has to keep it on. It is what her mother would have done. It is what her mother did.

Glued to her seat as she watches Mr. Hart struggle, Caitlyn redirects her attention to Mrs. Hart, who is shaking her head.

She is laughing to herself. "Oh, stop it! Stop it..."

She puts more food in her mouth as her husband gasps for air, soon-to-be on the floor. Her repeated words like a mantra quickly become maniacal. Cynical. Desperate.

Mrs. Hart looks at Wanda.

"Stop it, stop it, stop it..." She says, in a tone sounding like a plead, and the whole while, Wanda is terrified.

This isn't supposed to be happening. Wait... What actually is happening?

What is happening?

Wanda does nothing while a look of much fear takes over her face, and upon a glance across the table at Vision, he looks the same way. He looks unsettled.

"Stop it... Stop it!" Mrs. Hart says again, and Caitlyn is done smiling.

Caitlyn breaks character.

Turning to face Wanda, the sixteen-year-old who is the niece of Doctor Strange grips Wanda tight, catching her attention—and her request is low.

"Stop."

The woman finds the words, allowing. "Vision, help him."

Vision then springs into action. He gets down to the floor where Mr. Hart has fallen and phases his hand into Mr. Hart's throat, removing the hazardous item: a strawberry from the fruit salad. At last, Mr. Hart breathes again.

He coughs, and Vision consoles him. "Let me help you up."

"Give me your hand," he instructs, and Mrs. Hart is still smiling before glancing back down at her food—Caitlyn stares Wanda down.

Her stare releases its tension however when the woman is found looking on in genuine relief, Caitlyn relaxes.

Before hopping back into happy-go-lucky mode.

"All right, steady on, sir." Vision assures, and Wanda gets up.

Caitlyn remains seated for the fact that she has gone submissive, and she keeps her head down right as Mr. Hart checks his watch.

Turns out the night is over.

"Well, would you look at the time!" He chuckles, him and his wife jumping right back into sitcom mode—as if nothing happened.

And with the edge of fear in their behavior, it is almost as if nothing did.

Caitlyn remembers it.

She cannot remember everything, though. She doesn't know why.

"Yes. We'd better be going!"

"Well... are you both alright?" Wanda asks with a light chuckle, concerned.

Mrs. Hard overshadows her in appreciation. "We had such a lovely time."

She even cups her hands around Wanda's eyes, in the 'traditional Sokovian greeting'.

"This guest is leaving your home."

Wanda plays along with an endearing laugh.

She shakes Mrs. Hart's hand. "Ah, yes, thank you for coming!"

Caitlyn starts to rise from the table herself, gathering some of the table's condiments to then find another excuse to be washing the dishes—cleaning up, doing something.

The audience laughs as Mr. Hart shakes Vision's hand, and his demeanor is quite contrastive to how he was acting five minutes ago. "You impressed me tonight, son."

"First thing Monday morning, you and me are gonna have a little chat. We'll see about that promotion."

Vision is esthetic. "Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!"

Wanda opens the front door and there is a lobster attached. Well, guess they know where it is now.

Mrs. Hart comments on it. "Oh... What a charming door knocker! Goodnight!"

The Harts exit.

Vision turns back into his normal self once they are gone, synthetic form painting his face—and Wanda after a large exhale when leaning her back against their door, forms an extremely relevant opinion.

"We are an unusual couple, you know."

Vision accompanies her on the sofa. "Oh, I don't think that was ever in question."

"What I mean is..." she begins as he wraps an arm around her, "We don't have an anniversary."

"Huh." Vision says.

Wanda continues. "Or a song."

Her voice trails off in a somber manner when she remembers Agnes' comment. "Or even wedding rings."

Vision immediately cheers her up. "Well, we can remedy that. Today could be our anniversary."

"Of what?" Wanda glances at him, suggestive—jokingly. "Surviving our first dinner party?

Her husband replies back. "Precisely. And our song could be—"

Wanda is witty. "'Yakety Yak', naturally."

"Naturally." Vision, amused, repeats her.

Before Wanda articulates. "And the rings?"

"Couldn't you make some for us?"

Wanda considers this, lifting a hand that soon matches Vision's hand in a similar position. Then, with precise fingertips, and mostly the entire world and universe in her hands, she creates two rings—one for each of them. The audience makes a noise at this.

Vision takes a step further, making things romantic—soft, and sweet. "I do. Do you?"

Wanda looks into her lover's eyes when acknowledging, wholeheartedly. "Yes."

"I do."

They hold hands.

"And they lived happily ever after." Vision finishes, and the two share a kiss.

He clicks the remote, and he and Wanda lay their heads on one another in a freeze frame as the credits near playing.

Before so, a young woman watches them from behind, near the kitchen.

Caitlyn Elizabeth crosses her arms, wearing a peaceful smile. "What a perfect couple."

"They remind me of my own parents."

A hexagon frame captures the two. The credits start to roll.

In the real world, Dr. Darcy Lewis watches WandaVision occur from a retro, old TV screen.

The episode has ended.

Caitlyn stays in place.

... She needs to get out of here.