[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."

Comments

[marvel_npc]

"I know. But. Still." She blinks and blinks again, her eyes suspiciously bright, and then smiles at Sharon.

"Anyway, you need to know. What kind of man he is. If you're going to tangle yourself up with him. And especially if you're going to be throwing yourself between him and Tony."

[from_the_outside]

"If I – "

There's a fuzzy vodka mist swirling around her head, and it takes a second for what Nat says to kick in, a second where Sharon blinks uncertainly at her before her expression shifts rapidly through exasperation to something rueful.

"Please," she says. "I'm already tangled. I have been since France. You know me: you think I could look at that hot mess and say 'nah, I'm gonna sit this one out'?"

[marvel_npc]

At that, Nat's laugh peals out like a bell, and she taps her glass to Sharon's with a smile.

[from_the_outside]

Something breaks when Nat laughs and clinks their glasses together, and Sharon dissolves into laughter of her own. She squeezes Nat's fingers and lets go so she can rub her hand over her eyes.

"Oh my god," she groans, unable to stop giggling. "What a mess."

[marvel_npc]

"True," Nat agrees. "It really is. But we've all come through worse, right?"

[from_the_outside]

"Attagirl," Sharon tells her, still amused as she takes another sip of her martini.

[marvel_npc]

"You know me," she replies. "I'm an optimist."

Try through she might, she can't keep a straight face through the end of that, and hides her laughter in her own drink.

[from_the_outside]

"Right," says Sharon, her own mouth twitching despite her attempts to keep it serious.

"That famous Russian optimism."

That's more than she can take, and she breaks down in laughter again.

[marvel_npc]

She mimes a slow punch at Sharon's shoulder for that, then settles deeper into the corner of the couch.

[from_the_outside]

She giggles at that again, then leans back a little herself and looks at her friend fondly.

"Okay," she says. "Let me have it. Whatever else you want to ask, before this second martini hits and I forget what words are."

[marvel_npc]

Nat shakes her head at her, smiling. "No, I think that's it for now. Let's finish these off instead, how about it?"

[from_the_outside]

"That sounds great," Sharon says, and leans forward conspiratorially.

"Because after you left, my parents showed up and I desperately need to tell you all about it."

[marvel_npc]

"No." Her eyes go wide with delighted shock. "Your parents? Oh, Sharon. Tell me everything."

[from_the_outside]

By the time they've finished the second martinis and Natasha has dissolved into helpless laughter over the story of 'how the Carters made the Winter Soldier want to flee into the woods', Sharon is feeling pleasantly buzzed, and the feeling only grows over the next half hour as they catch up.

Natasha, she thinks, fondly. What a good friend. Agent. Bartender? Everything. She feels relaxed for the first time in who knows how long, deliciously warm and fuzzy.

She protests a little when Nat offers to walk her back to the guest apartment, but not much, and she's laughing, face flushed and eyes bright, at something her friend said as they reach the door.

She feels good. It's nice.

[nerves_of_ice]

The apartment had been empty when he got back to it, Steve having dropped him at the door before he'd gone to check in on Tony - a little sheepish about that, until Bucky had assured him that there was nothing to worry about.

He means it. He's not going to cause problems. No matter what it takes.

He takes a fast shower and settles down at the kitchen table with one of the beers that he's found on the bottom shelf of the fridge and his notebook, the laptop open and turned at an angle so he can keep an eye on the cameras. It's why he sees Natasha and Sharon coming down the hall before they reach the door. By the time they do he's hidden the notebook with his backpack, and looks up from the screen as the door opens.

"Hey." Sharon's smiling, a lot, he notices.

[from_the_outside]

Gosh, he's pretty. "Hi," she says, rosy color high on her cheeks.

"Did you guys have fun?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"We did," he agrees. "Looks like you did, too."

Natasha smiles brightly at him, neither confirming nor denying anything, then sets the little bag she's carrying on a side table just inside the door and tells them, "I'll swing by in the morning. Have a good night."

"Good night," he says, a little amused now.

[from_the_outside]

"'night, Nat."

She waves as her friend heads out the door, then comes to drag out a chair around the corner of the table from him. "Yeah? Got the ten cent tour of the place?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"Maybe even the dollar tour," he tells her. "Saw you two ducked out early."

[from_the_outside]

"Wow."

She gives him a teasingly impressed look. "I'm almost sorry I missed it."

[nerves_of_ice]

"I doubt you missed all that much," he says, amused. "Just a bit of boxing. What'd the two of you get up to, hmm?"

[from_the_outside]

"Girl talk," she says, tipping her chin and watching him coyly from under her lashes before she laughs again.

"Just catching up. With vodka."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Uh-huh." He smiles at that. "Well, good. I'm glad."

[from_the_outside]

"Because we're friends," she reminds him. Since he keeps asking.

"Colleagues. Well, not anymore. But once."

[nerves_of_ice]

"At SHIELD," he observes, and silently concludes that Sharon must have had more than a little of that vodka. He can't help but note that she's cute like this, though, flushed and laughing and happy.

"I think you'd still be colleagues, just different organizations. And friends."