Sharon Carter (
from_the_outside) wrote2022-04-08 11:53 am
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[AU] these are not the parts and poems of the body only, but of the soul
They've all entered a kind of tense détente after the ill-advised dinner party. Tony throws himself into work, Sharon and Pepper mostly avoid each other, and Steve, Vision, and Nat continue with oversight duties.
And the thing is... Tony's working it out.
Not a removal, exactly, but he's getting close, he'd told them, to at least blocking the commands. It's not perfect and it's not a permanent solution, but it's a step in the right direction. It's also a step in the direction of Tony needing to test the words on Bucky himself, and so Sharon and Steve are on extra high alert, keeping an eye out for any indication that Bucky's retreating into himself again. Sharon's mostly moved into the room they share in Steve's apartment for that very reason, though she still isn't wholly comfortable with being in Steve's space all the time.
He's away today, working with Sam and Rhodey on a veteran's outreach program, so it's Sharon who walks with Bucky through the halls of the compound towards Tony's rooms. "It's you and Vision with Tony today," she tells him, and glances across the distance they're careful to maintain when not alone behind closed doors.
"How are you feeling about everything?"
And the thing is... Tony's working it out.
Not a removal, exactly, but he's getting close, he'd told them, to at least blocking the commands. It's not perfect and it's not a permanent solution, but it's a step in the right direction. It's also a step in the direction of Tony needing to test the words on Bucky himself, and so Sharon and Steve are on extra high alert, keeping an eye out for any indication that Bucky's retreating into himself again. Sharon's mostly moved into the room they share in Steve's apartment for that very reason, though she still isn't wholly comfortable with being in Steve's space all the time.
He's away today, working with Sam and Rhodey on a veteran's outreach program, so it's Sharon who walks with Bucky through the halls of the compound towards Tony's rooms. "It's you and Vision with Tony today," she tells him, and glances across the distance they're careful to maintain when not alone behind closed doors.
"How are you feeling about everything?"
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"Thanks for the business, folks. You from around here, or just visiting?"
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"But it's been a dream come true opening the place up. We've got a great spot near the middle of town, right across from the grocery store if you ever want to come by during the week."
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He shifts to the side to collect Sharon's coffee and pass it to her, then his own.
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"Okay, let's give these a try. They smell amazing."
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"Pretty good," he observes. "Just like I remember."
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She bites into the roll and makes a groan of pleasure as the soft bread tears away beneath her teeth, giving way to a core of sweet, bitter chocolate. "Baby, these are so good, you should try one."
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"From Italy. In 1943."
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"What else should we check out?"
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He tears off a bite of his own roll, appreciating the taste, and looks around.
"How about there?" he says, after a moment, with a nod to a large fruit and vegetable stall halfway down the row.
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"Okay. Looks like some nice stuff. We could pick some up for Steve's apartment."
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"And risk the wrath of my old etiquette teachers?" she asks, mock-horrified. "I'll be happy watching you do it, thanks."
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"And talking about money is gauche, darling."
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He takes the last bite of his own roll, offers her another from the bag, then rolls up the top and carries it loosely in his hand as he takes a sip of coffee.
"But I've been places where people'd think you were rude if you didn't."
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"Somehow I feel like Fifth Avenue's not really your kind of place, anyway."
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"Not especially what?" asks the farmer. "Something wrong with my produce?" Bucky grins, quick and bright. "Not especially fond of upscale Manhattan," he says. "Here's better. And your produce looks great."
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He gestures to the bins in front of him, full of artichokes and asparagus, fiddleheads and radishes, stalks of fragrant red and white rhubarb.
"Do you have an orchard, too?" Sharon asks, looking at the half-barrels of plump, glossy cherries. The farmer grins at her. "A small one," he says. "You should try our cider in the fall."
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"Prices seem pretty good." He gives the farmer a cheerful look. "Any give on them if we take a few things?"
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"How much do you like cherries?"
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