he who hesitates is toast

[Leipzig AU] good for trouble

2022-03-30T21:51:20Z

Busan glitters like a disco ball in the night, and no one gives them a second glance as they stroll through the fish market, Sharon in her white dress on Ross's arm, the rest of the team behind them. "Sophia," she says, warmly, and exchanges air kisses with the woman, her pink visor and plastic apron both bright. She knows to expect them, and after she pats Sharon fondly on the cheek, she nods them through.

They spread out through the casino, the team's voices low in her ear. She stays by Ross, playing the part of arm candy, applauding when he wins and consoling him when he loses.

There's no sign of Klaue yet, and the metal briefcase full of diamonds stays locked to the wrist of one of the other agents. "I'm going to get a drink," Sharon murmurs to Ross, and makes her way through the crowd to the bar.

The martinis here are fine, but not as good as Nat's.

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[AU] the mission is all that counts

2021-09-14T15:47:55Z

It's been weeks now since she left the sun-drenched fields of Wakanda, since she'd stood by the lake and said her temporary goodbyes, since she'd waved out the window of the borrowed Quinjet and tried to keep Bucky in her line of sight for as long as possible, and it's beginning to feel a little too much like that was all the dream, and Madripoor is the reality.

It's a miserable city, and she's miserable in it. She's had more than one close call, working her way into Selby's inner circle, and she's had to do things she thought she'd never have to do again. She barely sleeps, cat-napping through the day the way Bucky used to in the old Winter Soldier days. It leaves her just rested enough to be able to react quickly, to stay on her toes, to think, but not enough to ever drive away the persistent exhaustion dogging at her heels, and Madripoor's nocturnal existence is a constant drain on her internal clock.

She's lost weight. Everything about her is sharper, now, when she looks in a mirror: the angles of her face and collarbone, the sleek ponytail she draws her hair into, the clothes she wears. In a reversal of what she'd done so long ago, she sprays her own pillow with the honeysuckle and clover perfume that now reminds her of Wakanda and home. She can't wear much of it during her working hours, but the scent clings softly to her skin and hair and reminds her, whenever she catches it, of who she really is.

Of everything she'll go back to. And then she remembers why she's here to begin with, and manages to set her jaw and her shoulders to face another of Madripoor's long, terrible nights.

She leaves her reports in a dead drop for Fury, rotating locations each week, just in case. Ever since he'd told her his plan, to deepen her cover by staging the 'death' of Sharon Carter, she's been radio silent... but she's getting there. She's getting so close. And soon, soon, she'll be back, grasping her hard-won prize, and she'll get to see the look on Bucky's face when she tells him they can go home.

She knows she's close, because only a few days ago she'd learned just what, exactly, the Power Broker offers. It breaks her whole mission wide open, is enough to take out the weapons ring and the Power Broker organization all in one fell swoop... if she can just get the proof, get it to Nick.

And get the hell out of here.

Here, tonight, is the Bronze Monkey, the bar Selby owns purely for the back rooms in which she holds court each night. Sharon, a hood tugged over her bright hair, drifts in the crowd, keeping a sharp eye on the newcomers, the regulars; the people who are drinking too much and the people who aren't drinking enough.

It's quiet, so far. But she's learned that one thing she can't trust in Madripoor is a quiet night.

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[oom] while I'm away, dust out the demons inside

2021-05-17T02:55:11Z

Twelve hours after they've returned from the mission, she already needs something else to do.

The problem is, there's not a lot she can personally assist with, now that Ross is involved. She shows up at Nakia's door with her laptop in tow and a vague idea of debriefing, and is summarily shooed away.

So there's not a lot to do. And that means she has too much time to think. And... feel things.

Look, she's not the type to sit around and pine for a boy, okay? (At least, she hasn't been that type since she was fourteen and in love for the Very First Time.) But she'd told him she would miss him like crazy and, well –

She misses him like crazy.

Steve tries. He honestly does, because he's Steven Grant Rogers and he's probably the single best person she knows, and also because she's reasonably sure Bucky extracted a promise from him to keep an eye on her. She's sure of it because Steve keeps showing up with, like, sandwiches for her to eat, and still gently reminds her to get enough sleep. He didn't resort to drugging her, but she's pretty certain that's due more to a lack of opportunity than personal reluctance.

Because he had to go, after a few days. He'd all but cornered her down at the lake, under the shade tree where she spends most of her afternoons now, and point-blank asked her if she wanted him to stay.

"You have things to take care of," she'd told him, after a second. "Don't worry about me, I'm all good here. Go, chase down the new leads."

He'd watched her carefully for a long moment, then sat down beside her with a sigh that garners him a sympathetic smile. "Do you want to come with me?" he asks, and even though she's expecting it, she's still kind of floored by the offer.

The truth is, she doesn't. I'm not running off with Steve and his team and leaving you behind, she'd said, and she means it now as much as she'd meant it then, but also she doesn't, really, want to go with Steve.

She wants to be here. Even if there's not a damn thing she can do to help or to make these next few weeks pass a little more quickly.

That's not what she tells him, of course. He's concerned enough already, and she can tell he doesn't really believe her excuses. She could work on the leads with him and the team, after all. She's taking a break from testing things for Shuri anyway. She and Ayo have already figured out a plan for when Bucky wakes up. And the goats have K'Senge.

But he doesn't press her. He's kind. Steve is always, always kind.

After he leaves, Nakia takes over the job of 'making sure Sharon stays alive,' apparently. She accepts Sharon's smiles and jokes with skeptical good humor and doesn't ask why Sharon, who is so often in the lab, often enough that Shuri finally just shoos her out, never goes back into the quiet white chamber where Bucky is sleeping. She doesn't comment on Sharon's tired eyes in the morning, or the increased amount of coffee she drinks, or how much time she spends sitting down by the lake. She only glances at the increasing number of wildflower bouquets that appear in Sharon's room and drags her friend to the market or to a restaurant or to some new beautiful spot in the Wakandan wilderness.

Sharon accepts it all. During the day she's lively and engaged, although there's a slightly forced air to it, but the afternoons she takes under the tree by the lake grow longer and longer with each day after the first full week.

Nights are a different story altogether. But there's no one there to see them, and she doesn't tell.

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[oom] make up some simple lies and compromise

2021-04-21T00:09:14Z

They gather, bright and early, back in the conference room that's beginning to feel downright familiar: T'Challa, Nakia, Shuri, Okoye, Ayo, Steve, Bucky, and herself, with a speak in the middle of the table for Fury's call. With the celebration behind them, everyone looks a little tired but focused: there's no time to lose. The first meet is tomorrow, and they have to be ready.

But first, they need to get everyone on the same page.

Once all the attendees are sitting with their choice of coffee or tea or water in front of them, and once Fury has called in, T'Challa looks around the table, meeting everyone's eyes briefly before speaking. "Thank you all for being here," he begins, and nods to Steve. "Particularly you, Captain Rogers. Your assistance in this matter is much appreciated."

Sitting back again, he looks to Okoye and Ayo. "General. Where do we stand on the intelligence we have gathered and analyzed?"

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[oom] I'm right here beside you

2021-04-04T01:37:34Z

Sleep is a joke.

It's not just the intel that she stays up sifting through, blue light straining her eyes; it's not just the coffee she drinks, trying to keep her brain sharp and her thoughts on track.

It's time.

Minutes that slip away, that she can't get back. Hours that tick ponderously past. She lies alone in her bed and can't close her eyes because if she does, if she sleeps, it's another night gone, another night closer to the day Bucky goes back under and –

So she stays up and works.

It means that when she waits for him in the morning to come find her before they meet with T'Challa and the others, her skin is pale and translucent and she has that sick feeling of an all-nighter, fatigue poisons running rampant through her bloodstream – but she has a list of observations from her analysis, and two mugs of coffee kept warm on the credenza: one pale with milk and sugar, the other black and as strong as her little coffee maker could handle.

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[oom] rigged up and ready to drop

2021-03-15T21:38:20Z

Between final tests and adjustments and planning with Nakia, she doesn't get a chance to go back to the hut by the lake before they have to leave.

It's okay. She'd seen him every day for a few weeks; it might not be such a bad thing to take a little break. And she'll be back soon.

T'Challa and Shuri are both at the flight pad to see her and Nakia off when dawn breaks the morning of the mission: Shuri to give them both last sets of instructions and to triple-check the suit's signal, and T'Challa to look unhappily at Nakia. "Are you sure you do not want me to come?" he asks, for what must be the twentieth time, and Nakia smiles gently but shakes her head firmly.

"We will be fine," she tells him. "You've been over the plans: this is a two-person operation. And we have worked together often before, Sharon and I. Trust me?"

He nods, although he looks unconvinced, and steps back as Sharon and Nakia board the small ship they're taking past the Wakandan border. "Be swift," he instructs. "Be safe. Take care of each other."

"I will see you soon, my love," Nakia says, and waves as the hatch closes.

But when she sits herself behind the controls and looks over at Sharon, there's no regret or sorrow in her expression at all. "Ready?" she asks, and Sharon's grin flashes sharp and white.

"Just like the old days. Let's do it."

[C/N: violence; adult content between consenting adults in thread.]

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[oom] sun is filling up the room

2021-03-10T00:04:30Z

The one good thing about getting back to her room at four-thirty in the morning is that, even all abuzz with the memory of Bucky's kiss still lingering on her lips, she falls asleep almost as soon as she lies down.

And she sleeps.

And sleeps.

The shades over her windows must be attuned to movement, because they stay blackout opaque for as long as she lies in bed, dreamlessly slumbering.

...which is until about ten, when her door opens and Nakia floats in like a ray of sunshine. "Time to get up!" she scolds, clapping her hands and lifting the shades, as Sharon mumbles a complaint and tugs the covers back over her head.

"No."

"Yes," Nakia declares, and sits on her.

From beneath the pile of blankets and pillows – and now Nakia as well – Sharon groans.

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[oom] something in my mind freezes up from time to time

2021-03-05T18:40:36Z

She hardly has any time to protest when Nakia appears like a vengeful storm sweeping into Shuri's lab and hauls Sharon away like a child who has snuck out of bed.

"Nakia –!"

"I will return her once she is ready," Nakia tells Shuri, who looks like she's barely holding back laughter, and then drags Sharon down the short corridor to the train platform, tapping out an order on her Kimoyo beads as she does.

"Do I get to know what's going on?" Sharon complains, and Nakia gives her a flat look.

"Stretch your arms up as high as you can," she commands, and when Sharon hesitates snaps: "Well?"

Annoyed, Sharon does as requested, but can only get her left arm about halfway up before wincing and letting it drop again. "As I thought," Nakia says, patronizing, and ushers her onto the train.

What follows is a series of tests and scans Sharon submits to with poor grace. "I'm fine!" she protests. "It's been six weeks!" But the Wakandan doctors either don't believe her or are too scared of Nakia to ignore her orders, and Sharon finds herself on the business end of a needle or two and several strangely warm lights that do something uncomfortable to the ribs she'd broken and then re-broken.

"Why does it hurt more now?" she complains, and Nakia smiles peaceably. "Because you did not take care of them before and now they must heal properly. You will be fine tomorrow or the day after."

And whatever arguments Sharon makes, she refuses to hear.

Nakia keeps her resting for the remainder of the day, feigning deafness when Sharon asks about going either to the lab or to see Bucky, and the evening and night pass without incident. She does manage to see him the next day, but it's brief: Nakia had swept in shortly after sun-up with coffee and breakfast and informed Sharon she would be taking her to meet several of the different tribes. And that it would likely take all day.

So Sharon contents herself with waving to Bucky from a distance as she and Nakia pass by: the children must have been freed from their lessons because they're clamoring around him. She meets a slew of people whose names she tries her best to remember and returns to the Citadel that evening with a few colorful braided and beaded bracelets around her wrist and several yards of beautiful cloth one of the village women had pressed on her. She doesn't know what to do with it; Nakia takes it with a secretive smile and promises to find a purpose.

But the next morning, she's up and out before Nakia can show up with plans again: the doctors had said she would be fine today, and she has somewhere she needs to be. After she's made use of the coffee maker she'd wheedled out of the kitchen staff, showered, and changed, she's heading down the halls of the Citadel to the station.

Shuri had said first thing. They may already be there.

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