[AU] protector and patron

[from_the_outside]

I'm going to protect you, no matter what.

That's what she'd said to Bucky just before they left Virginia for the Avengers compound, forced into compliance by Tony Stark. She can still see his wry smile, can hear the way he'd called her his guardian angel.

Well, she'd meant it. She'd meant every damn word, including the ones she'd spat at Tony in the form of qualifications. If I think for even a second that you mean to harm him, we leave, she'd said. And there's absolutely no question in her mind that Tony does intend harm.

Maybe not the physical kind. But if he's been edging his way into the room's security, up to and including searching it, then that is pretty fucking harmful and she's got a signed contract, negotiated between the Avengers and their representatives and the United Nations Joint Terrorism Task Force, that says she can make good on the verbal agreement they'd made what already feels like a lifetime ago.

God, she hopes he argues. She would love to have the chance to throw the Task Force lawyers in his face.

It's actually a closer to eight hours after Nat's call that the Quinjet settles on a landing pad outside, but Sharon is no less furious about the whole situation for having another hundred and twenty minutes or so to stew over it. 

"Morning," she says to a gaping Happy Hogan as she breezes through the entranceway. "Please tell your boss I'd like to see him at his earliest convenience. I'll be in the apartment, dismantling the incursions he's been making into my security system. Sound good? Great."

She doesn't break stride for even a second.

Comments

[from_the_outside]

"Oh, the mental image of Tony's face when he realizes he's lost this round is reward enough for me," she says, and there is definitely something hard beneath that sugar-sweet tone of hers.

Sharon lifts her hands away to squeeze Steve's, then steps back. "We'll be in the air as soon as I can make it happen," she warns. "Stop by in the next half-hour or so if you want to see us off. I've got a few things for you, anyway."

[marvel_npc]

In answer, he turns to the training floor. “Sam?”

“Go. I got this,” Sam tells him, and Steve turns back to Sharon.

“Let’s go.”

[from_the_outside]

No need to tell her twice; she flips a wave to Sam and turns for the corridor that will take them back to the apartment.

"We found some useful stuff in the plane," she tells him. "I know Rhodey's brief you already, but my people made up an itemized list. I'll leave you a copy."

She glances at him as they walk. "The most troubling thing is a set of facial prosthetics. They're incomplete, but... they're definitely based on Bucky's features. There's no explanation we've come up with so far that makes me happy about it at all."

[marvel_npc]

“That’s because there’s not likely to be anything good there,” Steve says, grimly. “I appreciate the information. Any chance of getting Zemo back into questioning any time soon?”

[from_the_outside]

"Yes, she tells him, as they round a corner. "I've got a copy of Dr. Broussard's report for you."

She glances at him, sidelong. "Fury thinks it might be worthwhile to have someone from the Avengers question him. Maybe Nat, if she's available."

[marvel_npc]

“I’ll ask. She’d definitely be the right one for the job,” he agrees. “There’s no one better.”

He rounds the corner with her and heads down the hall.

[from_the_outside]

She nods and lapses into silence as they head down the halls towards the now utterly silent apartment.

Bucky's already back; his backpack is leaning against the leg of the table, and she can't help but relax a little when she sees him. "Hey," she says. "Just going to hand a few things over to Steve and then we'll be on our way, okay?"

[nerves_of_ice]

He nods, even as his glance shift to Steve. “Sorry,” he starts, only to go silent as Steve gives him a stern look.

“You’re not the one who needs to apologize for any of this. I should have noticed, and I definitely should have kept a closer eye on Tony. It won’t happen again, Buck, but the next time you have some kind of trouble, tell me, okay?”

The corner of his mouth twitches in a wry expression.

“Can’t promise, but I’ll try.”

[from_the_outside]

Sharon hides her own expression under a fall of hair as she searches through her bag, coming up with another version of the same document she gave Hogan, Broussard's report, and her own team's analysis of the investigation sites. "Here," she says, coming back around the table to hand them to Steve. "There's a flash drive in there with images, but I'm sure once Rhodes is back he'll provide you with even better files."

She zips her bag shut and slings it back over her shoulder, then looks at Bucky.

"Ready?"

[nerves_of_ice]

“Okay,” he murmurs, still watching Steve, who steps in and puts a hand on his shoulder before pulling him in for a hug. “Don’t do anything stupid,” he says.

“How can I?” Bucky asks, with a tiny smile. “If you get a chance, tell Vision I’m not upset with him for interfering.”

“I’ll do better than that. I’ll thank him for it,” Steve informs him, before looking at Sharon. “I’ll be in touch soon. As soon as I can manage it.”

[from_the_outside]

She nods. "I'll keep an ear to the ground," she tells him.

"But Steve, do what you can to keep Tony away. If he shows up at my house again, things could get messy in a lot of different ways."

She waits until he nods back, then presses a smile at him that turns warmer when she looks at Bucky. "Okay, then. Your chariot awaits."

[nerves_of_ice]

He nods, silent, and slings his pack to his right shoulder as he follows her from the room, as he leaves Steve behind to deal with the mess - all of it, from the fit Tony’s going to throw to the wreckage of the room with the EMP damage and the stone from the hearth crumbled where he’d pulled the program manual from its hiding place. It’d been a good one. The stone had blocked Tony’s scans, and he’d never found it. He’ll have to find another when he comes back. Because he will, and they all know it.

Guilt consumes him. He should have figured out a way to deal with it. He should have—

He stays silent all the way to the Quinjet, as he takes his place in the copilot’s seat, as Sharon starts the preflight check. The jet hasn’t even had time to cool down from her arrival.

[from_the_outside]

She hasn't even been here an hour before she's back in the air, this time with Bucky in the co-pilot's seat. He's quiet and she lets him be quiet, nothing but the sound of her working through the flight checks, setting their course, and the hum of the wind around them until they're safely in the air.

There's a chance Tony will try to apprehend them – but when she sees a glint of red and gold amid the clouds, it isn't Iron Man. It's Vision. He floats for a moment and lifts his hand in a calm farewell, then turns back again, apparently covering their six. Just in case.

She breathes out relief once it seems like they're in the clear, then looks over at Bucky, sympathetic understanding in her glance.

God, she'd hate this, too, if she were him. "It's okay," she tells him. "It'll be okay."

[nerves_of_ice]

He raises his hand to Vision in turn. Did Steve send him? Did he come on his own? It could be either, and he’s not sure he’ll ever ask.

Sharon’s soft reassurance draws his attention. Bucky glances at her, shakes his head, and goes back to staring out the window.

[from_the_outside]

It's the right thing to do, she tells herself. She'd had to do it. He has to be able to sleep

For now, though, she switches gears. "I don't know how much you've heard," she tells him, keeping her eyes on the horizon, "but we found some pretty interesting things in the plane and in Zemo's hotel room. Including plans for both incendiaries and what looks like an EMP strong enough to knock out a city-wide power grid."

[nerves_of_ice]

“I haven’t,” he tells her. “Heard, yet.”

He glances at her. “Bombs? Multiple types … any sign of the target?”

[from_the_outside]

"There are notes," she tells him. "Not in English. We have some translators working on them."

She slants a sidelong glance at him. "The design is for a car bomb. A van, really. Something that big could blow a whole in a building the size of JTTF headquarters, that's for sure."

[nerves_of_ice]

He absorbs that in silence for a moment.

“What language?”

[from_the_outside]

"Serbian, mostly."

The language of Sokovia. "Some German."

[nerves_of_ice]

“Do you have a copy?”

[from_the_outside]

She nods and checks the controls, then gets up to rifle through her bag, coming up with slim-bound document that she hand to Bucky before she sits back down again, watching him with interest.

"You read Serbian?"

[nerves_of_ice]

“Some. Not fluent the same way I am with other languages but some,” he says, beginning to flip through. “There’s some linguistic sharing with Romanian, and some with Russian, so, yes, a reasonable amount.”

He glances at her.

“I am fluent in German. And certain topics I… know more about.”

[from_the_outside]

"More than I've got," she says. "Knock yourself out. We've got some time."

It's a much shorter flight in the Quinjet, but it'll still take an hour or so to get back to the clearing in the woods near the house. "Let me know if anything catches your eye."

[nerves_of_ice]

He nods, and settles in to pore over the document.

It’s easily half an hour later when he frowns at it.

“This is referencing the Berlin power grid. With multiple locations marked.”

[from_the_outside]

"What?"

She frowns too, looking over her shoulder at him. "Any idea if he was focused on one part of the city in particular?"