daughterofliberty | [616] ground zero for trouble

[616] ground zero for trouble

"Remember, Nick," she calls, buckling the utility belt of her suit. "I've got years of vacation time saved up. You owe me. After this, I'm taking five whole days in Virginia with Steve, and no one is going to bother us. Right?"

Fury scoffs, and she turns a gimlet eye on him. "Right?"

"Right," he says, holding up his hands in surrender. "Hell, Carter, it's not like the rest of the Avengers and SHIELD aren't around to pick up the slack. Go! You crazy kids have fun. Send a postcard. Let your hair down a little. You've been tense as a wire ever since – "

"I wonder why," she snaps, and he shakes his head.

"Just saying," he says, as Tony Stark sniggers behind him. Sharon waves them both off, an unruly smile tugging at her mouth.

"I'll check in once I've made contact," she says. "Steve should be waiting for me at the rendezvous."

"Good luck, Agent Carter," Tony says, and she tosses him a crisp half-salute, then heads through the hatch towards the hangar that holds her vehicle: not the Quinjet, not for a mission this small, but the cherry-red convertible that hovers as she enters and taps out the activation code. "Come on, baby," she tells it. "Let's go for a ride."

But when she reaches the rendezvous at Avengers Tower and strides through the door, Steve's nowhere to be seen.

And, honestly? Neither is the Avengers Tower.

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"Sure it does," Bucky says, just as quietly as before, with an odd little smile. "The way she told it, the two of you've been together for years, back where she's from. You fell for each other before I came back."

Before he'd gotten in the way.

"Buck – " he starts, and then stops, swallowing it. She called me Buck; like you do, almost exactly like that –

It's not like he hadn't thought, once – long ago, now – but the timing had never seemed right and then she and Bucky met and that was that. A small, selfish voice wonders if that other Steve and other Sharon are happy; sounds like they must be.

Hadn't she said something like that, once? Back when he first saw her in Wakanda? Maybe in another life. Seems she'd been right.

He shakes his head, firm, shedding the thought like water. "That's got nothing to do with our world," he says, determined. "You know that, right?"

"I know." Still soft; almost gentle. "I know, Steve. And I swear I didn't try to, to get in the way, but I can't help but wonder, if I hadn't--"

"Bucky, no. Stop."

It's been a hellish few weeks. Bucky mourning the woman he loves. Steve mourning one friend and trying to be there for the other. The very last thing either of them need to do is bring up old, old worries; old 'what ifs' that drifted further away with every choice each of them made.

"It doesn't matter what happened in some other universe; it isn't ours. Don't wonder. The two of you are right together, I believe that. Besides – "

He tries for a smile, shaking his head. "You know our Sharon would clock you right in the jaw if she heard you bringing all this up again."

"She probably would, at that."

He manages an answering smile that feels as rueful and tired as Steve's looks.

"Anyway. The other one - what happened to her, with the bomb, with Fury, happened long ago too. From what she said I wasn't around then yet either. And the other you believed the recording Fury showed you. And thought she was dead, for years."

His jaw sets in hard lines. "It's probably just as well other me wasn't around during that or I might have killed him for doing that to you. Again."

"Jesus."

He thinks of stretching the last few weeks out, multiplying them by years, and has to suppress a shudder.

(Not again. Never again.) "Did she say how she got home?"

"She didn't say exactly how, but from what she said I gather you had something to do with it," Bucky tells him. "She said it was a story - one of a few that we agreed to trade over a lot of drinks if I ever see her there again."

He hesitates there, considering Steve, then takes the plunge.

"She had some things to say about Tony, as well."

Steve sighs heavily, then gives his best friend a rueful look as he crosses his arms across his chest. What neutrality their Sharon had previously held towards Tony Stark had gone out the window as soon as she learned how he had attacked Bucky in Siberia.

"Okay, I'll bite. What did she have to say about Tony?"

"Evidently you fell out there too, but this time it wasn't personal," Bucky tells him. "Over something called the Superhero Registration Act, which sounds like their world's version of the Sokovia Accords. And I don't know how long it took, but sounds like things are better now. You're back working together and friends again."

He keeps his tone level, keeps it kind. "She thinks our Tony might want to make up but is too proud to reach out. Asked if the weapons trouble would be enough to give you an excuse to work together again."

Steve looks at Bucky for a moment, a long, searching glance, then turns a little away, stroking his hand over his bearded chin.

Too proud to reach out. That would explain why the burner phone Steve keeps, just in case of emergency, never rings. But then, Steve hasn't reached out either.

It's not the same, he argues to himself. Tony would arrest them. He'd have to, now. He's the one who has to bend first. God knows Steve's given him more chances than he probably deserves.

... but that thought still leaves a bad-tasting film of guilt in his mouth, and he glances back at Bucky. "Maybe," he admits.

"I don't know, Buck. A lot's happened. Maybe there's nothing to fix between me and Tony anymore."

Bucky looks steadily at him.

"There's only one way to find out. You know that, right?"

Steve gives him a wry look.

"You've gotten pretty wise in your old age, you know that?" But he shakes his head, relenting, even as his arms stay crossed.

"It might be enough. But let's take it one step at a time, pal. First things first: finding your girl and getting her the hell out of Madripoor."

"Well, I'm sure old enough," he points out, dryly. "Has to be good for something, right?"

Bucky takes in the way Steve's holding himself and decides to leave it there for now. Mostly.

"I just hope this isn't a wild-goose chase," he says, quietly. "I know it could be - that she could be -- but there's a chance. So yeah, first things first."

"Hey."

He uncrosses his arms to put a warm, heavy hand on Bucky's shoulder. "Whatever happens," he promises, quietly, his eyes steady on his best friend's face, "whatever we find, we'll face it together."

Maybe it isn't smart to latch so completely onto this hope. If it turns out Fury was right all along... he doesn't know what a second, even more crushing disappointment, after all this build up and strain, might do to Bucky. These last few weeks wouldn't even compare.

But he can promise to be there. Whatever happens. To the end of the line. "There's a chance. And if there's anyone I know who can take even the slimmest chance and make it the only possible outcome, it's Sharon Carter."

"You're right about that," he says, leaning into Steve's touch just a little. "She's like you, that way."

"The other one said that she - when it happened to her - that she ended up as a mercenary for a while. And did her best to look out for the good guys. Like a guardian angel." The corner of his mouth twitches upward in a rueful hint of a smile. "I can see it. Can't you?"

"Sure," Steve says, easily.

("They're gonna come looking for you."
"I know.")

"She's looked out plenty for us, after all."

"She has. And--"

"Do I have to separate the two of you so that you'll stop talking and get some sleep?" Natasha is standing there with her arms crossed and one foot tapping, looking back and forth between them.

Steve has the grace to look a little abashed.

"We're getting there," he says, and lifts his hand from Bucky's shoulder after meeting his best friend's glance with his own slightly guilty one. "But you're right. We need to sleep."

"Лисичка," he murmurs, a little fond, a lot wry. "So quick-tempered." He holds up both hands before she can snap at him and adds, "But like Steve said, you're right. Both about this and before - about Yelena."

Natasha shakes her head at him. "You idiot man. Of course I am." She smiles, a little, the hidden worry in her glance easing slightly. "Go to sleep. I promise I'll wake you both if anything happens. Nakia and I are trading watches to keep the pilots company."

"Good," Steve says, and gives her a stern look. "Get some rest yourself, Nat. We're all going to need to be at our best for this op."

She gives him a slightly mocking salute. "Whatever you say, Cap," she tells him, then gives them both a slight, crooked smile and continues moving to the front of the plane to join Okoye, speaking in low voices.

Steve shakes his head and starts for the rear of the cabin. "Come on. Better grab a bunk before she comes back."

"You're not wrong," he agrees, and follows Steve to the back of the flyer. Bucky takes the bunk one over from his and slides into it with ease, then sets himself to trying to sleep.

* * *

They set down in a field well outside the city limits, not quite close enough to scent the salt air when the hatch opens and they come down the ramp to blink in the sun and sweat in the humid air.

They're first to the rendezvous and use that time to polish their plan. Sam and Nakia dress in new, garish clothing and have intense, quiet conversations with Natasha and Bucky; Steve and T'Challa and Okoye set up their communications hub with help from Shuri, who remotes in and sets up all the necessary connections.

It's several hours after they've landed when the sound of engines comes roaring from above and another jet sets down.

"Ah," says T'Challa. "The cavalry. White Wolf, perhaps it would be best for me to ease Agent Ross into seeing you."

"Probably a good idea," Bucky agrees, and returns to the flyer, where he takes up a position near enough to the ramp to observe what's going on outside without being seen.

Hopefully this'll work. It'll be easier to see if Ross's going to be reasonable about things by having him be faced with the rogue Avengers rather than with one of the world's most wanted terrorists.

It's been a long flight. Where did T'Challa find this girl? Ross had spent most of the trip trying to coax that out of her, but she'd alternated between sniping at him and stubbornly remaining silent.

He safes the controls - just in case - and gives himself a second to dry-swallow an aspirin for the pounding headache while she makes her way out of the jet first.

"Hang back a moment, Captain," T'Challa advises, then strolls to the lowering ramp of the jet, hands clasped behind his back, and nods to the descending figure. She seems hardly more than a girl, he notes; but he has known too many fearsome Dora Milajie to be fooled by her round cheeks and innocent face.

"Yelena Belova," he greets her. "You are most welcome. Thank you for joining us."

She gives him a sharp, assessing look, then purses her lips and blows out a breath. "Fine," she says, shortly. "But next time maybe you can ride with him." She jerks a thumb back at the interior of the plane and rolls her eyes in a way that makes T'Challa think abruptly of Shuri. "Talk, talk, talk. So many questions. 'Who are you?' 'Why did they ask for you?' 'Will you stop pressing buttons before we crash and die?'"

She blows a raspberry and flips a hand. "Tedious. Oh, there is my sister – Natasha!" she yells, waving an arm above her head and jogging past T'Challa, who watches her with bemusement until he hears – "Natasha?"

Everett Ross clambers down to the ground, looking drained and confused. T'Challa steps forward, smoothly. "Welcome, Agent Ross," he says, as calmly as if he were receiving his friend at the Citadel.

"Thank you for coming."

Edited 2021-09-14 01:13 (UTC)

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