[AU] How much - how little - is within our power

[from_the_outside]

 "No," says Sharon, for what feels like the thousandth time. "That's not acceptable."

The rest of the flight had been uneventful, and once they landed she'd been grimly unsurprised to see that Stark had sent Happy Hogan, his erstwhile chauffeur, to guide them to the apartment they've been assigned. Stark himself had apparently gone somewhere to get out of his armor, somewhat mollified by having gotten them here and under his thumb.

Except Sharon won't stop kicking up a fuss.

Hogan stares at her as she inspects each corner of the apartment. "I can't cut these rooms off from the central security protocols," he says, slowly, like he thinks she's just misheard him.

"Well, you can," she tells him. "Or I can force a cascade in a couple load-bearing subroutines that will shut the whole damn thing down. It's your choice."

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[from_the_outside]

He doesn't shiver, like she does, doesn't lean into her touch, like she does, just lets her run her hand over his hair because after everything they did to him, everything he's been through, he's still kind. And he'll still let her reach for him, even if he doesn't want it or need it... like she does.

She shoves it all down, shutters it behind a rueful half-smile as she lifts her hand away. "Just the instant stuff from the Quinjet supplies," she tells him.

"But I'm sure there's the real kind in the kitchen."

[nerves_of_ice]

He shifts toward her as she pulls her hand back, just the slightest bit, just for a half a second before he catches himself and goes carefully still once more.

"I'll take a look," he says, quietly, and gets to his feet. "I also have the other half of the antisurveillance devices to place, when you're ready for me to."

[from_the_outside]

There's a split second where he leans towards her, like he wanted her hand to linger, and a frown flickers between her eyebrows. "Hey," she says, catching his hand before he can turn away. She turns in her seat to face him fully, to take both his hands in hers.

"Bucky. I – "

But the words are all tangled up in her chest and throat. There are times and places, and this is neither, but she feels like she has to say something or regret letting the moment pass her by.

Fuck regrets. "I'm glad I'm with you," she tells him. "And I know you can't, that expressing certain... things... is tough. Impossible, maybe. But if there's anything that would be good for me to know, even if you think I don't want to hear it... I hope you'll tell me. Okay?"

[nerves_of_ice]

She takes hold of his hands, and he goes completely and utterly still. He's silent when she finishes, as his glance flicks rapidly around the room, assessing. The devices are in place, he thinks he's found all the little 'gifts' Stark placed, but the window --

"Wait," he says. "Wait." He pulls free and goes to the window, scanning the outside, looking for cameras or signs of distant drones or scopes. He doesn't see any, but he pulls the shades and drapes both to be sure, checks to make sure there aren't any cracks which would let sight through, and only then returns to her.

Very carefully, he holds his hands back out to her, offering them for her to take.

"I shouldn't be glad you're here," he says, after a moment. "You hate it. You're stressed. Stark is pissing you off. And you haven't done anything to deserve it. Any of it. So I shouldn't be glad you're here. It's selfish of me."

[from_the_outside]

She watches as he scans the room, as he goes to the window and closes it to the outside world, and when he comes back and offers her his hands again, she takes them without hesitation.

And when he says what he says, her heart makes a suicidal leap, jerking sharply in her chest, and her fingers tighten on his hands. "It's okay to be selfish," she says. "I am. I don't want to be anywhere else. And it's because I want to help, but also I just like being with you. Even when it's complicated."

Her smile is a little fickle, but it's warm in her eyes anyway. "See? Selfish."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Complicated," he echoes, on a breath that carries the faintest hint of rueful laughter. "Yes."

He looks down at their hands and sighs.

"It's not fair - to you," he's quick to clarify. "I'm no good. I can't - I shouldn't - "

He stops himself there; makes himself stop, watching the way her fingers look against the bright metal of his left hand.

"I'm nothing but trouble, Sharon."

[from_the_outside]

She's looking up at him from her seat; she tugs his hands down, gently, trying to get him to kneel back down so they're eye to eye again.

"Even if that were true, I'd say it makes us a good match," she says, with a flicker of amusement.

"But it isn't. You're plenty of things besides trouble."

[nerves_of_ice]

A good match.

He can feel his heartbeat stop, then redouble in pace, even as he lets her draw him down until he's kneeling before her.

"Sharon." Barely a whisper.

[from_the_outside]

She shifts in the chair, bracketing his hips with her knees, and carefully lets go of one hand so she can lift hers and run it over his hair again, slow and gentle.

"I'm here," she tells him. "It's okay to be glad I'm here. I am."

[nerves_of_ice]

His lashes are long against his lower lids as his eyes flutter shut, as he lets himself tilt his head just slightly, into the touch of her hand against his hair.

His free hand comes to rest lightly on her knee as he fights to keep himself from moving. He fails, and after a moment he reaches up to take hold of her wrist and pull her hand down.

Eyes still closed, he turns his head sideways, and presses a gentle kiss into her palm before he lets go of her.

[from_the_outside]

She's a grown woman; one careful, deliberate kiss pressed into the palm of her hand shouldn't shatter her like she's thirteen years old and experiencing her first crush, right?

But it does. A full-body shiver shakes through her and she takes his hands to place them on her waist so she can lean forward, her own hands cradling his head as she leans her forehead against his. "Bucky," she murmurs, fascinated by the dark smudge of his lashes against his cheeks, by the way his hair falls around his face, by the skipping, painful reaction of her own heart.

After a second, she huffs a shaky breath of laughter. "I need to get this place secure. But I don't want to move away from you."

[nerves_of_ice]

As close as she's drawn him, she'll have no trouble feeling the shudder that runs through him as she touches him, he knows. He keeps his hands gentle on her waist, curving his fingers over her hips.

He opens his mouth to speak, but the plea locks itself in his throat, blocking any other words. It takes him a second or two of visible struggle to find a way around it.

"I'm in your hands," he settles on, and when that comes out, adds, "I can help."

[from_the_outside]

He is in her hands, she knows; if not dependent on her then still definitely too tangled up in questions of security and safety – hell, even power –

But he's so close and he trembled beneath her touch and considering how the last few days have gone, it seems kind of stupid to think she might ever get a right time or a right place, and God knows she's never had any trouble flinging herself off a cliff –

So she takes a short, sharp breath and tips her head to very softly kiss his mouth before pulling away again, face flushed, watching him. "To be continued," she says, her voice a little thick.

[nerves_of_ice]

"Sharon." His hands tighten at her waist and he leans in to kiss her again, wanting, before he tears himself away and stands in a swift, smooth surge of motion, moving back a step as he does.

His eyes are very dark, nearly black, as he watches her, holding himself completely still, one step away.

[from_the_outside]

She watches him back, her pupils blown huge and dark, color high on her cheeks as she swallows hard.

(God, she wants so badly but there's so much to do.)

"Help me finish up the security measures," she says, after her throat works for a while. She's pleased that her voice sounds nearly normal. "Please?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"Of course." He takes another step back, then circles the table to put it between them and picks up one of the anti-surveillance instruments.

"I found everything that a visual-only check could detect, I'm pretty sure," he informs her. "I didn't want to run a scanning test of any kind while Hogan was in here. But I'll sure as hell do it now. Are you picking up anything useful on your system?"

[from_the_outside]

"I have access to the hall cameras," she says, clicking through the images before letting them fill her screen like a checkerboard of boring hallway video.

"And I'm networking our equipment. If anyone – or any AI – tries to hack into it, it'll warn us."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Good." He takes the scanner with him to the kitchen and hunts through the cabinets and the fridge, coming up with coffee and its accompaniments - cream and sugar. Evidently the standard 'guest' setup had included the basics.

No cinnamon, though. He makes a note to ask Steve about it and sets a pot brewing, then starts scanning the kitchen in careful detail for any possible bugs. Once he finishes there, he begins to work outward to the open areas.

[from_the_outside]

She's grateful for the chance to quit thinking and just delve into coding, tweaking the SHIELD codes so they randomize, making them as difficult to crack as she can.

Stark's AI could do it, she has no doubt, but she can at least make the process annoying.

"Finding anything else?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"Not yet. I'm guessing that they didn't have a lot of time and they're not used to putting things like this in place where people like us might look for it."

He runs the scanner over furniture seams, unexpected areas, and up inside the fireplace, then frowns and reaches inside as it beeps.

"Okay, so there're probably at least a couple more," he says flatly, staring down at the bug. Bucky crushes that one too and drops it with the rest of the junk, then goes back to his methodical search.

[from_the_outside]

She glances up at his tone. At the sight of the bug, her expression flattens. "I think you're probably right."

At least the anti-surveillance equipment should have kept anyone from hearing anything... important.

(God, she hates this. They shouldn't have to be securing themselves from the goddamn Avengers, of all people.)

[nerves_of_ice]

"Well, they won't be around for long," he says, low and flat, and keeps searching.

It turns out that there aren't any more; he'd already searched the obvious places before and pulled everything out. It's a little bit of a relief to find that, but he's still glad of the equipment to back them up, just in case.

Bucky retrieves the other half of it and turns to Sharon before he goes to place it. "Anywhere in particular you want any of this?"

[from_the_outside]

She glances at it and shakes her head. "I trust your judgment," she says.

"Just let me know when they're in position; I'll activate them remotely."

[nerves_of_ice]

He nods and sets to work. It doesn't take long to ensure that they're well placed and that there's enough of a scatter pattern to make sure everything's covered and protected from either audio or video surveillance.

By the time the coffee finishes brewing, everything's been set up. He detours by the kitchen and pours a cup for Sharon, adds sugar and cream, and brings it back to the table for her.

"Ready when you are," he says.

[from_the_outside]

"Oh, thank you," she says, in response to the coffee. She picks it up for a sip as she activates the program and her screen fills with inputs.

"You have access, of course," she tells him. "And me. That's it so far, though I have zero doubts that Tony's AI will be trying to nudge its way in as soon as possible."