[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]

"Not if I can stop them."

She holds out her hand to him in invitation. "Come on. Let's go see if Tony fixed my damn driveway."

[nerves_of_ice]

He takes her hand, but draws her to him first, there in the quiet of the woods.

“I missed you,” he murmurs.

[from_the_outside]

She goes without hesitation, lacing their fingers together, her free hand going to the small of his back as she steps close. "I missed you, too," she says, and leans her forehead against his.

"I'm so sorry I had to go. But I'm back now."

[nerves_of_ice]

“I’m glad.”

Slowly, so that she can pull away if she wants, he leans down to kiss her.

[from_the_outside]

It hasn't been that long. Not really. But she still feels like all the air rushes out of the world when he kisses her.

Carefully. Too carefully. She whimpers a small sound and grips her fingers into his shirt, presses up onto her toes to kiss him back, deep and sweet.

[nerves_of_ice]

He makes a low sound and pulls her against him, wrapping his arms around her as he returns her kiss.

“Come on,” he says, when it breaks.

[from_the_outside]

"Whew," she says, and grins at him, face flushed and eyes sparkling.

"'Come on,' he says, like I still have knees that work. Come on, yourself."

[nerves_of_ice]

He smiles, very slightly, and sweeps her up in his arms.

[from_the_outside]

Sharon laughs in surprised delight, her arms going around his neck, and she kisses him again, fond.

"You're a secret romantic, aren't you, Barnes?" she says, teasing.

It's great. It's more than great. She loves every second of it, of being treated not just like the agent but like the girl who's been gone on him for longer than she really cares to admit.

[nerves_of_ice]

“Not all that secret.”

He kisses her again, then starts to carry her along the path toward the house.

[from_the_outside]

"Well, I like it."

This has got to take the cake for 'most complicated relationship ever' in a series of relationships that were never exactly simple, but she doesn't care. He's worth it. "And my ribs are feeling better," she tells him, because she figures he'd want to know.

"Saw another doctor in Berlin. He said keep it up with the ice packs and lidocaine patches, but things are healing up just fine."

[nerves_of_ice]

“That’s really good news,” he says, and kisses her another time before they reach the edge of the woods.

Bucky sets her gently on the ground and scans the area around the house for signs of trouble.

[from_the_outside]

"He did tell me to try not getting kicked in the side for a few more weeks," she says, looking around.

Everything seems fine. Quiet. And the stones of the driveway look like they've never been disturbed at all.

Sharon smiles a little grimly at it. "Good job, Tony," she mutters, "or Hogan." She waits until Bucky's satisfied with his visual scan, then heads up the steps of the porch to unlock the door. "Everything seems secure," she reports.

[nerves_of_ice]

He follows her in, a little hesitantly, and looks around. Everything looks the same as before— was it only a week ago? Maybe ten days? It seems unreal.

[from_the_outside]

Sharon sets her bag down inside the door before she closes and locks it, then draws him further into the quiet house, towards the big main room and kitchen, before putting her arms back around his neck.

"Are you hungry?" she asks. "Some of what was here probably went bad, but there's plenty left. Or you can take a nap, if you're tired."

[nerves_of_ice]

He sheds his pack by her bag and lets himself be led. Bucky shakes his head, putting his arms back around her, his hands at the small of her back.

“Are you? It should be what, seven pm or so in Berlin?”

[from_the_outside]

"A little. Both. Woman cannot live on righteous indignation alone, and it's been a long day."

But she doesn't take her arms from around his neck, just shifts one hand so she can toy with the ends of his hair. "I could probably scramble some eggs without setting off any fire alarms."

[nerves_of_ice]

“I’ll help.” Something in his eyes darkens as he adds, “We better take advantage of the lead time while we have it.”

[from_the_outside]

She sighs a little, but nods. "You're not wrong," she admits, and leans up to kiss him gently before letting go and moving towards the fridge.

"Good news is, there's still cheese," she tells him, opening the fridge door and peering inside, then taking out eggs, milk, and a packet of shredded cheese. "The one thing that could make my cooking palatable."

[nerves_of_ice]

“I can make coffee,” he offers. “And your cooking can’t be that bad.”

[from_the_outside]

"Coffee sounds great," she says.

It's more to give him something to do than because she really wants it, but it's never a bad thing. "And I guess we'll see, won't we?"

But she can, it turns out, scramble eggs. Sure, they're a little tough – Gordon Ramsey would throw a fit – but they're edible and, as promised, full of cheese, along with half a green pepper she'd dug out of the crisper drawer and chopped up. There'd been some diced ham in the freezer; she threw that in, too.

"Bon appetit," she says, dishing it out into two plates and offering one to him. "The Sharon Carter special."

[nerves_of_ice]

He accepts the plate and joins her at the kitchen island, where her coffee is waiting.

“Not bad,” he says, after the first couple of bites.

[from_the_outside]

She digs a particularly charred piece of pepper – she thinks – out and pushes it to the edge of her plate, then gives him a rueful smile. "Could be a lot worse," she agrees.

The coffee is good, though. She can taste the cinnamon in it and it makes her smile.

Nobody in Berlin bothers to put cinnamon in her coffee unless she specifically asks for it.

She eats a few bites, then puts her fork down to pick up her mug, studying him through the steam. "So when you said you were a restless sleeper," she starts, gently. "I guess I didn't realize just how restless you meant. These last few days... is it because you couldn't sleep at all, or because you kept waking up?"

[nerves_of_ice]

He draws his fork through his meal without seeing it, thinking, then looks up at her.

“I’ve had nightmares since D.C.,” he says, simply. “But this was worse.”

[from_the_outside]

She watches him toy with his food, but waits patiently.

The last thing she wants to do is push. "Worse how?"