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Post by Ray on Feb 28, 2017 23:33:54 GMT -7
"Two months have passed since the United States was shaken by the political scandal now known as the Fall of SHIELD, and the country is still trying to rebuild upon the rubble left behind. As the CIA and FBI are sifting through the terabytes of information that was dumped onto the internet in the wake of this national catastrophe, ongoing trials continue for a number of senators, high-ranking intelligence officials, and military officers. But millions of Americans are saying it's not enough. Many are calling the actions committed by these agents of SHIELD 'war crimes' and, as protestors march in the streets of New York and Washington D.C., are demanding not only restitution, but for the President himself to be put on trial for signing off on several highly controversial missions. Others are still waiting for justice for Captain Steven Rogers, who was assassinated upon the steps of Capital Hill after--"
The TV mounted on the wall goes black, cutting the news anchor off mid-sentence and leaving silence in their place.
Barton throws the remote onto his bed and snatches up a grey t-shirt instead, pulling it on in one sharp tug. The clock on his metal nightstand blinks eight in the morning, and he already feels restless. It's his own fault, really. Never should have turned on the damn TV in the first place.
For the past six weeks, it's been the same chatter, the same story, the same recycled lines of war crimes and controversy. His own name has been spoken a couple times in malicious tones, as reporters list off the top agents with the most missions notched on their belts, accusing any and everyone of participating in Hydra's game.
A part of him can't blame them. The information is confusing and the lines blurred, but he doesn't need the reminder.
None of them do.
He grabs his phone and key-card on his way out of the room, needing to stretch his legs.
The smell of bacon wafts down the hall, followed by the chatter of god knows how many other agents looking for a distraction and comfort food early in the morning. He considers avoiding the eating area entirely for a moment. After losing all hearing in his right ear, trying to keep up with conversation hasn't been easy. Everyone is sleep deprived and anxious, making reading their lips as they talk rapidly impossible and hearing them just as unlikely. But his stomach grumbles quietly and his blood is running thin on caffeine, so it's a sacrifice he has to endure. He shoves his things in his pocket, and turns towards the kitchen.
"You're burning the bacon."
"Would you chill, it's fine."
"Fine? It's blacker than my grandpa's ass, where the hell did you learn how to cook?"
"Where did you learn how to mind your goddamn business." Poe retorts, throwing an irritated look towards Sam who's staring back at him incredulously, a glass of orange juice in his hand.
"Fine. Eat your burnt bacon." Sam replies, rolling his eyes as he directs his attention elsewhere. "Hey, Clint." He says, lifting his glass to his mouth. Barton grunts a reply, grabbing a mug from one of the overfilled cabinets -- someone's idea of a novelty, with Here's hoping you at least get giggles with your shits written on the side -- and filling it with the last few dregs of coffee.
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Post by Snowglobe18 on Feb 28, 2017 23:54:14 GMT -7
Emily looked up when she heard the two of them arguing and rolled her eyes. It was pretty much the same thing that happened most mornings, they were all running on god knows what and the mood didn't seem to get any better, well she couldn't blame them. It has been hard over the last couple of months between the constant battering SHIELD had been getting in the news, not that she watched it, to the restlessness that there seemed to be on the base. They had done well enough, so far, to keep hidden but it seemed like anyone and everyone was out for blood from ex SHIELD agents.
She dropped her cell down on the table before grabbing her coffee. "I have to agree with Sam, so no bacon for me" she wasn't sure if there was going to be any for her anyway. Her and Poe still wasn't best pals and at best they tolerated each other for Caesar's sake and really because this base seemed ready to blow. Someone like a fire underneath them and it was all going up.
Emily looked over and saw that Jemma was looking towards the door of the kitchen, it seemed to be the same look every morning, she was waiting for both Teresa and Fitz but both never seemed to make it to the table. The former would be in the gym beating up whatever she had thought of this morning, the latter didn't want to face most people because of the look they would give him, the soft voices they would used and the constant "How are you doing Fitz?" which was usually received by words that he couldn't get out. Jemma had taken it hard of all of the team because of the fact they were best friends. Jemma being there when... Emily sighed under her breath before biting down on her lip. "You could go and ask both of them to breakfast, or you could go and sit with Fitz"
"Yeah, I know, but he doesn't want to see me most mornings so if he comes to breakfast then I want it to be on his terms" Jemma said and smiled at Emily before moving her eyes away from the door and over towards Poe. "What are they arguing about?"
"Burnt bacon"
"Wow, such a tasty subject" she smiled before grabbing a slice of toast.
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Post by Ray on Mar 1, 2017 0:18:36 GMT -7
Barton shoves the empty pot back in its place after only getting to fill his mug halfway with murky lukewarm coffee, debating silently whether he should refill it or leave that to the next chump searching for a pick-me-up.
It'd been years since he lived with anyone else, let alone with twelve people all with their own neuroses and caffeine addictions. Half of the time they're stacked on top of each other, all eager to do something but having no real outlet beyond playing endless games of pool or bickering about everyone else. Missions were sparse and not so eagerly taken. With the media witch-hunt and the UN breathing down their necks, they couldn't do much more than patrol New York City at night, which bore more fruit than any of them really expected. After the Fall, crime spiked. Riots, black market deals, and organized crime made a comeback with a vengeance -- and creatures that had otherwise retreated to the deepest shadows were thriving off of it. But still, it's not enough to ease tension.
Barton reluctantly decides to refill the coffee pot.
"Do you know who's on duty tonight?" Sam asks, appearing at Barton's side. Like Nat, he seems to be the only one who really grasps the deaf thing, and always talks in clear tones on his left side.
"Me, probably." Barton replies, flipping the switch on the coffee machine. It starts chugging immediately. "Why?" He flicks his blue eyes towards Sam.
Pulling in a deep breath to ready himself, Sam lowers his voice a little, but makes sure Barton can still follow along with his lips. "I think we need to get some of the younger ones out in the field. They're getting antsy, and that's not gonna end well for anyone."
Barton doesn't need him to clarify who the younger ones are to get the implication. Of all the people on base still reeling from the Fall and trying to cope, there's only two who've locked themselves in their rooms only to come out like ghosts in the night and leave behind a warpath. "I'll talk to Nat. Where are they?" He asks, picking up his mug and glancing towards the others in the kitchen. Like always, neither of them are here.
"Teresa's probably in the gym. I never know where Asya is."
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Post by Snowglobe18 on Mar 1, 2017 0:37:15 GMT -7
"You back here again" came a voice over Teresa's shoulder and she stopped and saw that Alex had stopped by the gym, she actually looked freshed face and it was very annoying because at one point Teresa always looked like she had been pulled through a hedge backwards, yet Alex just seemed to ooze morning person. Her hair pulled back in a ponytail and.. it was just really annoying.
"I couldn't sleep" she admitted and bit on her lip before grabbing her water bottle and taking a drink. "Who's cooking breakfast?"
"Poe" Alex grimaced before leaning off the doorway and walked in. "I guess you're not that hungry?"
Teresa shook her head before clearing her throat and looking back towards the punchbag. Although she had grabbed herself something early just in case Poe was on cooking duties. She never seemed to sit with her friends anymore. Although she wasn't sure if that's what she would really call them now because they were all living together on this base. It had been a long two months and it seemed like Teresa felt every minute of those two months. "What made you come here with us?" she asked after a moment. She never really asked Alex why she had decided to join them on the base.
Alex looked around the gym and wished she had an answer for that because if it would help Teresa deal a bit easier then she would make something up but what was the point in lying when she really couldn't back up anything. "I hate losing, and with hydra out there, everyone has lost and I hate that so coming here seemed like the next best option" she smiled softly at her. "Hows the arms today? I heard Jemma say about them yesterday"
"Sore" she admitted with a nod before she looked down at them. "But I'll heal and it might sound weird but the pain keeps me focused a little more, does that sound weird?"
"Not at all, pain can sometimes clear the mind, it might hurt like a bitch but that's what seems to help"
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Post by Ray on Mar 1, 2017 1:04:06 GMT -7
Barton skips breakfast. Nothing against Poe or his charred bacon -- the kid tries, and Barton can barely make toast -- but the restless feeling sets in full swing as soon as Sam gets his mind working around a new problem. He carries the mug with him, sipping the black coffee as he navigates the long hall. The base was built like a grid, each section laid out strategically. Yet it still takes a good five minutes to walk from one end to the other, and that's without interruptions or a closed door the entire way.
He catches Caesar at the elevator, a file splayed open in his palms, his dark brow furrowed in concentration. They'd only met two months ago when Nat sent Clint the invitation to the secret bunker, but he liked the guy. Calm, collected, and the only one around here who actually managed to smile without it looking forced.
"You see Asya or T anywhere?" Barton asks. Caesar glances up, his face relaxing and his brown eyes finding Barton's.
The son of a bitch is good looking too, Barton isn't afraid to admit that.
"Are you asking if I have, or if I can?" Caesar asks in reply, a hint of humor in his voice.
"Both?" Barton shrugs a shoulder. A slight smile cracks at one corner of Caesar's mouth. It's no longer a close-kept secret that he's somewhere on the psychic spectrum, though no one really knows what that means. The file now floating around the public sphere says it's based in recollection and recreation -- putting details of a room into place to remember whole scenes that might have occurred hours, days, even years in the past. But god knows what else that entails. Barton has been trying to figure it out for weeks now.
"Teresa is in the gym," Caesar says as the elevator doors open. He flips the file shut and adds on, "Even I couldn't track down Asya."
"Yeah, thanks." Barton huffs, and gulps at his coffee.
"Good luck." Caesar laughs a little, an the elevator doors close.
Continuing on, Barton uses his key-card to get into the gym, somehow already making it back after only untangling himself from the bench-press just over an hour ago. His hair is still damp from the shower he took afterwards.
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Post by Snowglobe18 on Mar 1, 2017 1:16:27 GMT -7
"There is something else that works too" Alex crossed her arms over her chest and watched Teresa who had just sat down on the floor and taking another drink from her bottle. Whatever they had here was pretty much what they had on the Bus. It was just swapped over from plane to base. Damn she missed that damn thing. Even if it had kept her too close to Emily on most days, but now they were friends. It's amazing what people went through.
"What's that?"
"Sex..." Alex grinned. "that definitely clears the mind and it helps get out that frustration of yours plus it'll help with the lack of sleep"
Teresa had to snort because no amount of sex was going to help clear her mind, no amount of sex was going to take away the dreams she had when she fell asleep. "There is more to life than getting laid" she said and after a moment stood back up and put her bottle down on the ground, merely just dropping it on the floor. It never broke so that was one good thing to come out of this situation.
"Not really, you should try it there is plenty of good looking guys, or girls, around here" she shrugged. "I don't know whether to choose Sam or Tripp, both are really good looking"
Teresa scoffed and shook her head before looking up when the door opened and saw Barton coming in. Usually she liked to stay out of peoples way but she guessed that people didn't like to stay out her way. Second person to come across her. Damn she must be getting predictable.
"And one just landed in your lap, be safe!" Alex said and left the two of them alone.
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Post by Ray on Mar 1, 2017 1:44:26 GMT -7
The door is just starting to swing shut when Alex makes a hasty retreat, slipping through and out of the gym with a smile on her face. Barton already assumes he doesn't want to know, based solely on her expression and the exact opposite expression reflecting off of Teresa's face. In a rare moment, he's actually a little thankful he's mostly deaf.
"Hey," he says, giving a half smile to the dark-haired woman left behind. "Giving the bag a black eye or the other way around?" He nudges his chin towards the punching bag she stands in front of, the fabric already worn by a dozen fists using it to work out their frustration. His own fists have gotten bloody on the damn thing repeatedly by now, the sore cuts on his knuckles stretched by holding the mug reminding him of that fact. It could be worse, he thinks. He could be splitting his knuckles on someone's face, which has been all too tempting lately.
He pushes that thought to the back of his mind and sips at the remainder of his coffee.
He lowers the mug back down towards his chest, glancing briefly towards the rest of the gym, checking for any other hidden listeners. "If you want, we could talk to Nat about getting you a patrol assignment." The words sound strange falling from his mouth. In the two months stuck here and the fuck-how-many-years he worked for SHIELD, he never said something that sounded so much like Hill. Just the thought sent a sharp ache right into his lungs, but he breathed through without batting an eye, all too used to the painful reminders catching him unaware. "Might be better than beating a sack of sand to death."
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Post by Snowglobe18 on Mar 1, 2017 14:33:15 GMT -7
Teresa pretty much wanted to kill Alex Parrish right now, she hadn't had much to do with the rest of the agents on this base. Well apart from the ones that had crossed her path even though she very much wanted to be left to her own devices. She would wonder the base at night because of the fact that she never slept. Right now she was hoping that she would get Parrish alone so that she could wring her neck.
Barton then spoke to her and she moved her brown eyes towards him and glanced in the direction of the bag when he asked if she was giving the bag a black eye. At the moment she was just trying to keep her head above water. Keep the anger to a minimal but it seemed like that wasn't going to happen. "Both I guess" she said and made sure that he could read her lips. She gave him a slight smile before looking away once more.
He then went on to say about her getting a patrol assignment and she moved her eyes back towards him so fast that she was sure they would get whip-lash if that was even possible. As much as she wanted to say that she was here to help them out, she knew that she couldn't control her abilities. It was happening more and more often. Teresa would feel the base move underneath her and that was why she decided to shut herself away from the rest of the team but some how or for some silly reason they always seemed to cross paths even when she wanted them to stay away from her.
Teresa had to admit that it was really lonely like this, keeping everyone away but it was the only thing she could handle. "No" she said finally and shook her head. "No patrol assignments, no Nat and no this" she said indicating between the two of them. "I just want to be left alone, at least that way I can't hurt you" she admitted and pulled her lip in between her teeth. She had no choice to come across Jemma because she helped her with the bruises when she had been pretty much close to tears but the rest of them... She wanted them to stay away. Everything triggered the vibrations but it was mostly feeding off anger and she had a lot of that these days.
No, no patrolling.
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Post by Ray on Mar 1, 2017 15:21:28 GMT -7
Her reaction is immediate and her answer just as quick to spill free. The sudden no to his offer isn't what surprises him. After two months, the wounds they were dealt are still fresh -- particularly for the one person on base who was the closest with Steve, the closest with the man who's assassination still plays on TV like JFK's. Jumping back into the field isn't easy after something like that. After faith, trust, and friends are all slaughtered on a killing stone right in front of your eyes. Barton, being one of the older SHIELD veterans on base, is used to it. Swallowing down the deaths of Steve and Maria is hard, but he's seen so much death both on duty and off that he's built a system around working to get around it. Years of practice and the reminder that their job isn't done yet is the only thing keeping him from stumbling back into that dark corner of drinking and wallowing on self-pity.
But he's not like Teresa. He can't create shock-waves with his own destructive feelings. So if she's not ready, she's not ready.
What does surprise him is how quickly she shoves him away in the same breath, like one final nail in a coffin they'd been building for months.
He furrows his brows slightly, a small frown tugging at the corner of his mouth. Clearing his throat quietly, he glances down to his coffee mug for a moment, giving the last sliver of liquid a swirl. "All right." He says, bobbing his head once. With a lift of his chin, he sets his blue eyes back on her. "Suit yourself." He swallows the remainder of the coffee as he turns away, heading back towards the door.
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Post by Snowglobe18 on Mar 1, 2017 15:40:28 GMT -7
Teresa watches him and then swallows hard. Everything felt off, she felt off and she couldn't run home anymore and shut the door because there wasn't a home to run back too. She couldn't watch the TV because they kept playing Steve's death on a loop and she couldn't watch it anymore. She had watched it the day it happened and it felt like everything had turned on it's axis. Well it had but how could she really explain that she no longer trusted herself.
The day that Steve had died she had almost brought the plane down and she couldn't do that to anything else they had. They barely had much but what they did have they shared. Sometimes she even wondered why she had come to the base, why she didn't just run when she had the chance. But maybe like Alex, she didn't like losing and they had all taken a big loss. One that they couldn't ever get back. It was gone whether they wanted to accept that or not.
Barton turned back towards the door and bit on her lip. She thought about turning back to the bag, before she moved towards Barton. She came to stand in front of him. "Is there any news on Bucky?" she asked and moved her eyes to looking up at his. She wasn't blind to the fact that he still wasn't here. But she guessed that people dealt with grief and anger on different levels and she would understand if he wasn't here but a part of her ached for him too. He knew Steve so much longer than she did, she might've dropped in on them in the '40s but she came back to the future and it had been Bucky there afterwards.
Teresa had never asked about Bucky before. Mostly because of the fact that she had kept to herself but it had been two months. There had to be something on him, some sort of intel on where he was.
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Post by Ray on Mar 1, 2017 16:03:30 GMT -7
Teresa stops him before he makes it to the door, his mind now set on finding where Asya spends all her time hiding away from the rest of the group. Being the only one not a former SHIELD agent and, frankly, being the one with the closest ties to Hydra, he can't blame the girl for her constant disappearing act. Most people here don't even know she exists let alone where she came from, and Asya is far from the type of person to answer a hundred pestering questions. They only spent a couple days on the run together back when everything was going to absolute shit, and only minutes together since then, but Asya leaves a lasting impression. He's starting to notice that trend among former Russian spies.
The thoughts vanish from his mind when Teresa appears in front of him, blocking the path and asking the same question he'd been hearing for weeks now: where the hell is Bucky?
Yet another Russian with another vanishing trick.
"No," he sighs out, though not for a lack of trying. Nat had been spending half of her time tracking Hydra agents and half of her time using her expertise on Barnes to try and track him as well. But like any ghost, he doesn't leave a trace when he doesn't want to. Last they heard, he was in Venezuela, but that was months ago. At the same moment Steve lost his life, Bucky seemingly no longer existed. "He'll turn up eventually." Barton says, trying to force a reassuring smile but even that seems hard to do. For all they know, Bucky may never come back.
The only reason he stayed before is now lying six feet underground.
"And if not, we'll just have to find another angry super-soldier with metal fists."
Speaking of which, his phone vibrates in his pocket. He tugs it free and glances briefly at the text.
Heard you were looking for this, the message from Nat reads, with an attached picture of a blonde head sitting at the command console.
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Post by Snowglobe18 on Mar 1, 2017 16:21:05 GMT -7
Teresa nods when he says that he would turn up eventually. But in all honesty she didn't actually expect him to turn up at all. She tried to give a smile when he said about the fact they would just have to find another super-soldier with metal fists but it didn't reach her eyes anymore. She didn't find smiling easy anymore due to the fact that she was constantly angry. She didn't find laughing easy anymore because there was nothing to laugh about. This whole base was like a powder keg and she was sure that any day it was going to blow.
"Good luck on the patrol tonight" she gave a slight smile before she moved back to the bag. Teresa wasn't interested it going on a patrol, she would rather just sit in her room and pretend that she didn't exist.
Her eyes dropped down to the floor that had her stuff on it and on top of it sat a key-card. They all had one because of the fact that no one would get anywhere if they didn't have one. She would use the nights to look around this place, seemingly finding something new every night but there was only so long that she could do that. In the end she just gave up and came to the gym to work out some anger. It's where she spent most of the day if she was honest. She would sometimes just sit in the kitchen with something to eat and be gone before anyone came in in the morning.
It was hard, if she was honest, to keep a barrier between the people she had come to work with and care about but it was something that needed to be done. Teresa could probably do with going out into the world but the amount of destruction that she would leave behind would be hard to clean up and she never wanted to hurt anyone so she would just end up back in her room later.
It was probably boring but it was the safe kind of boring.
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Post by Ray on Mar 1, 2017 18:10:42 GMT -7
Barton nods, and replies, "Thanks," not sure what else to say.
He stuffs his phone back into his pocket and pulls the door to the gym open, leaving Teresa alone to her devices.
The command console sits a floor above at the center of everything -- a massive glass screen with a map of the world splayed out from edge to edge, taking up the entirety of a wall. Every so often, red dots appear in various locations, signaling a conflict of some sort still being detected by SHIELD's old algorithms. They'd tasked Fitz with figuring out some way to update the system to fit their needs, but with his own trauma afflicting his concentration, the process has been slow.
Yet still Asya stands in front of the screen, tapping points to bring up the sparse information listed. As Barton approaches, he can't tell if she's looking for something specific, or just looking for anything.
She doesn't break her attention away long enough to look towards him when he comes to stand at her side, her brow furrowed and her round mouth pulled down in a small frown. Barton crosses his arms and watches as she swipes a location away, only to bring up another. Somewhere in Nigeria.
"Is this what you do all day?" He asks, arching a brow and flicking his eyes towards her.
Her hair is pulled back in a messy top-knot, thick dyed-blonde strands still falling around her pale cheeks. In only a loose fitting tank top, the Russian tattoos marking her skin are more evident than ever -- the number of which is brand new information to Barton. Some he recognizes from Ukrainian prisons, which only adds to the list of questions still making circles around his brain.
"Better than pretending like the outside world doesn't exist." She replies, her accent thick. She scrolls the information with a tattooed finger, the symbol for thief inked in black. That one he knows.
"So I take it you'd rather be doing something than sitting here talking about it."
Asya finally glances to him, a questioning look in her eye but the frown remaining. Jesus, she looks like Bucky, he thinks, and quickly shakes that thought away.
"I'm on patrol tonight. Why don't you come with me."
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Post by Snowglobe18 on Mar 1, 2017 18:26:42 GMT -7
The door to the gym opened and then shut, the silence taking over once more. She glanced towards the door herself and couldn't help but wonder if she would ever be able to let anyone in again. While she was this angry and not in control of her abilities there was no way she was going to be able to cross paths with anyone. But even keeping herself locked up didn't stop the tremors from happening all around the base. It didn't stop Nat from feeling it upstairs in the operations room or the prisoner they had downstairs. It didn't make them anymore safer than if they were standing next to her.
She pushed that thought away and went back to the punchbag. Needing it to clear her head a little.
Emily grabbed the coffee pot and poured herself some before looking over at Jemma. "Want some?" she asked and held the cup up.
Jemma was about to answer when another voice cut across her.
Emily looked in the direction of the voice and saw that Alex had joined them. "Two black coffees" she said and grabbed another mug, pouring the coffee into it and then handing it over to Alex. "You're late this morning" she observed. "You missed Poe's breakfast"
"Yeah and that's why I'm mostly late" she said and smiled. "I stopped off and saw Teresa in the gym, is she ever going to come out of that thing to eat with us?" She took a sip of her coffee before leaning against the counter.
"Honestly? I don't think so" Emily admitted before drinking.
If there was ever a moment when they really needed Teresa it would be now. But it seemed like the young woman had other ideas and they weren't sure if they could get her back on their team. She had been adamant that she didn't want to come anywhere near them, that no amount of being next to her would make them safe. But her being on this base didn't make them anymore safer. No one could talk any sense into her at all no matter how hard they tried, she just shut herself up in her room and then wandered the base at night. Sometimes Emily had come across her but she would always hurry into a room and then make sure that she couldn't talk to her. In the end they really just let her to her own devices. It was her way of coping with the loss of Steve, it was her way of coping with her new found abilities. It was also her way of coping with the loss of her boyfriend.
"I left Barton with her" Alex said after a moment.
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Post by Ray on Mar 2, 2017 0:05:24 GMT -7
"I wasn't aware Wakanda was interested in foreign relations."
"When a global spy agency we've dealt with in the past turns out to be spearheaded by a terrorist organization, we become very interested." The man replies on screen, one dark brow lifting in controlled contempt. Natalia cocks her head to the side in acceptance of that fact, having heard the same words come out of similar mouths for months now. Though never directly to her. This was a first. She keeps her arms crossed over her chest, not once letting herself relax into this unexpected conversation.
"So what are your terms?"
"Negotiations and settlements will be discussed after my son visits you. I want to ensure that this new so-called organization of yours is not simply another copy of SHIELD."
"Our location is secret for a reason, your highness." Nat reminds him, voice even but stern. "We have the United States and Hydra vying for our heads. We can't just open our doors to give your son a tour."
"If you want the UN on your side," T'chaka says, leaning forward only slightly to lace his fingers together upon the surface of his desk, "You will have to." Nat presses her mouth into a flat line, a muscle jumping in her jaw. "I will be waiting for your decision."
The connection ends just as there is a soft knock on the door of the private office, once owned by Nick Fury and Peggy Carter in a time long passed. Nat releases a breath of air she'd been holding tight in her lungs, and lets her arms unfold back down to her sides. For weeks, she'd been trying to find a way out of this mess. A way out of facing massive jail time, out of losing her friends, out of losing the only legacy that Steve had time to leave behind. The UN, of the minimal list of options they did have, was the most viable. The backing of a global council could ease the tension off of her shoulders and get them back on the hunt for Hydra. But giving up the security of their newfound home to appease a King in a far away country was a risk she could not lightly take.
She never wanted this job. How she ended up with it, she doesn't know.
"Come in." Nat calls out, pressing the small silver button on her desk top. The large flat screen presses back against the wall, and wooden panels shift for either side to hide it out of sight.
"Trouble?" Caesar asks as he steps in, always knowing more than he ever really lets on. Nat can see it in the way surprise never really flickers in his gaze.
"I have to open our doors to Wakanda or we'll never see the light of day again."
"So business as usual." He replies with a charming smile, laying a file down upon the desk. The office is still bare and hardly used. Besides the furniture already in here when they arrived, Nat had made no alterations and left no fingerprints. It still doesn't feel like hers, though she knows that someone has to claim it. "I checked storage," Caesar continues, not missing a beat. He flips open the file and spreads a few pages across the desk. Nat turns to get a better look. During Fury's time rebuilding this old bunker, he'd taken a few liberties in deciding what it's uses could be. One of those uses included storing objects he deemed too important to secure in facilities with heavy foot traffic. They'd only discovered this recently while digging through files. "Only two of these are still here." He taps upon two pages and lifts his brown eyes to look at Nat, waiting for her reaction.
Pictures of two gems stare up at her, one orange, the other green.
"So where are the other four?" She asks to the air. Caesar shakes his head.
"Could be in other facilities. Fury knew this was coming."
Nat sighs and places her palms flat on the table, her red hair cascading down around one side of her face. "Something else to add to the list." She murmurs. "And our guest?"
"Quiet."
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