[oom] see right through my walls

[nerves_of_ice]

As T'Challa stares at the hologram in the palm of his hand, he can already feel the headache forming. "She what? No. Never mind. Bring her to me in the throne room, when she arrives. I will deal with her myself."

He clears the image, then taps the Kimoyo Bead again. "Nakia. I need you."

* * * * * * * * *

"You cannot be serious."

"I don't see why this is a problem. You brought Everett Ross here--"

"Ross was dying! And he was never allowed to know that the man he was seeking was here! Nakia, I have made a promise to protect him."

"She is not a threat. Not to him."

"I will be the judge of that."

Nakia throws up her hands. "Fine. You will see. I hope it does not bother you that I stay and watch?"

T'Challa smiles. "Of course not."

Comments

[nerves_of_ice]

"That's not what I'm doing."

She's mad, he can tell, and ignores the simmering something that's beginning to burn inside him to try to explain, instead.

"I'm not pushing you anywhere. I'm telling you what I said to him. Or didn't say, rather, at a time when I thought you already had made a choice, and it was him."

[from_the_outside]

She levels him with a flat stare: she's not just talking about this one instance, and he knows it.

Or he should, if he doesn't. "Well, I hadn't."

Steve had kissed her, not the other way around. And sure, there had been a few moments – more than a few – when she'd started to think maybe she would change her mind. "And I hope you stretch before you do all this jumping to conclusions, or else you're going to hurt yourself."

[nerves_of_ice]

"It sure looked like you had."

It's as flat as the stare she just gave him.

[from_the_outside]

"He kissed me," she points out, sharp. "It wasn't my idea. And yes! It was a very nice kiss! Are you happy? Should I have shoved him away? It was nice to be kissed by someone who wanted to kiss me and was very obvious about it! That doesn't mean I decided anything."

She glares at him.

"I tried. I honestly did. I talked to him, I messaged him, I met up with him after the funeral. And you weren't wrong. I could see it happening. I could see it being great."

Steve Rogers: honest, brave, handsome, and true. Any woman would be lucky to be looked at the way he'd looked at her.

[nerves_of_ice]

Something flashes in his eyes before everything about him shuts down into absolute stillness.

"Okay, then."

[from_the_outside]

"For fuck's sake."

The temptation to just grab him by the shoulders and shake hard is getting more and more difficult to resist. "What did I just say about jumping to conclusions? What did I just say you never asked me?"

The lake is looking like a better and better option, honestly.

[nerves_of_ice]

"Fine," he snaps back at her, while deep within him something twists and is shoved back, ruthlessly.

"Then what do you want?"

[from_the_outside]

"You," she returns, in a tone that adds idiot, or maybe jackass. "I want you."

Now she does move towards him, stopping a few steps away and meeting his eyes with her own flashing ones, chin tipped up, jaw set obstinately. She doesn't even notice how her hands are shaking. "It was never going to matter how great Steve is. He was too late. I'd already fallen for his best friend."

[nerves_of_ice]

She's standing in front of him all fire and fury and stubborn determination, glaring at him, and she's beautiful.

He knows, he knows, that if he just-- if he could only, but--

But.

"Sharon," he whispers. "I can't."

[from_the_outside]

She sighs out through her nose, eyes closing in a pained wince, because it hurts. It hurts to see him trying so hard.

Because he's so good. And he never sees it. "I know."

It's so much softer, and when she opens her eyes again, all the anger has faded into rueful understanding. He'd said it already: I can't be the one to break Steve's heart.

She gets it. Steve is his best friend. The one he'd do anything for. Give up anything for. The most important person in his world. She nods. "I know. I know what you have to do, what you're going to do, because you're you and Steve is your best friend. And you might not think it's important, but...I want to know. Because it matters to me.

"What do you want?"

[nerves_of_ice]

What I want doesn't matter.

The words tremble on his lips, but they don't fall. She's already said it matters to her; he can't tell her it doesn't.

And while weapons aren't allowed to want, he's not only a weapon any longer.

"I..." For a sick, sinking moment his throat locks up and he's not sure he'll be able to say anything at all. Bucky makes himself breathe, slow and steady and deliberate, and looks down at her as he answers her question.

"If I could. I would want a chance. To try."

[from_the_outside]

Her throat works as she searches his face, the storm vanished from her eyes like clouds blown out to sea. "Me too," she says, softly.

But he can't, and that means they're at a stalemate for now. That's okay; at least now she knows what she's dealing with.

She takes the last few steps required to come close enough to take his hand and lift it to cup it between her own. Very gently, she places a deliberate kiss into his palm, then folds his fingers around it and lowers his hand back to his side, looking back up at him again.

"I'm not giving up," she tells him, and her voice is quiet but clear. "I promise I'll respect your decisions. But I'm not giving up. Just so you know."

[nerves_of_ice]

He almost smiles at that, a quick flicker of movement at one side of his mouth.

"When have you ever?"

Bucky glances down at his hand, then comes to a decision. Slowly, he raises it, and meets her eyes as he presses it to his chest, over his heart.

He doesn't say a word as he does so, or as he lets it fall again after a moment and turns away, toward the narrow path back out to the rest of the world.

[from_the_outside]

A melting thrill runs through her from head to toe as he presses her kiss to his heart, and she smiles, soft and aching and just a little pleased. "Pretty sure I was born without the 'quitter' gene."

He starts towards the path and she falls in to follow him back out again, into the dappled shade of the thicket. "So who do you think's won? The goats or the children?"

If whatever game they were playing could be said to have winners.

[nerves_of_ice]

"The kids," he says, without hesitation.

It's not far to the entrance, and as before, he lifts the hedge-gate up for her.

[from_the_outside]

"I miss the days when I didn't know what a smart-ass you can be," she sighs, but she's smiling as she ducks under the tangle of branches.

"Kids. Honestly. Hey –"

She turns to him once she's through. "Where did that nickname come from, anyway? 'White Wolf.' Very cool."

[nerves_of_ice]

"T'Challa," he says, as they start to walk back toward the hut. "We figured it wasn't a great idea for the name Barnes to get out there too much."

He glances toward where the children and the goats had been playing, just to check that no one's in earshot, before continuing.

"Or 'Winter Soldier.' Or Soldat. Obviously."

For more than one reason.

"The 'White' part's easy to see," he says, dryly. "The Wolf... well. Wolves are good hunters and trackers. They can live alone or in packs. It seemed appropriate."

[from_the_outside]

"I guess you do kind of stand out, here," she laughs, then shakes her head. "Me too."

She's about as lily-white as they come, and it's a pretty safe bet she's the only blonde in the whole country. "Clever of T'Challa to keep your real name under wraps. I like it. It suits you."

And it was extremely cute when the children ran up yelling it at him yesterday.

[nerves_of_ice]

"He doesn't miss a trick," Bucky agrees. "And thanks."

The sun has reached its height while they were talking, and is beginning the slow descent into the warmth of the afternoon. As they draw closer to the head of the path, the goats come into view, dozing under the trees closest to their pen.

One of the children, a very young child, is waiting for them near the hut.

[from_the_outside]

The goats are napping in the shade, and honestly that sounds like the world's greatest idea to Sharon, who is really starting to feel her lack of sleep.

But the small child takes precedence, and Sharon crouches to cut the height difference, smiling. "Hi," she says, friendly. "I'm Sharon. Did I meet you yesterday? What's your name?"

[nerves_of_ice]

The little girl shakes her head, wide-eyed as she watches Sharon. "No," she says. "I'm Chichima. Hi."

"Hi, Chichima," Bucky says, hanging back a bit so as not to crowd her. "Did Elder Ayemi send you?"

She nods.

[from_the_outside]

She glances over her shoulder at him, questioning.

"Elder Ayemi?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"Merchant Tribe," Bucky explains -- for some value of the word, anyway. "Chichima's grandmother, if I'm not mistaken, right Chichima?"

The little girl nods again.

"She says you may help her this afternoon."

Bucky nods. "Please tell her I said thank you, and I will be there on time."

Chichima nods back, very seriously, and turns to look at Sharon. "Your hair is pretty."

[from_the_outside]

"Thank you," Sharon says, sincerely. "Yours is very pretty, too."

The little girl looks pleased and a little shy, then trundles off with a small wave that Sharon returns before straightening.

"Merchant Tribe?" She really should ask Nakia or Shuri if there are some good materials for her to read to get a basic understanding of Wakanda and its people. "What are you helping with?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"Yeah. There are a few others," he answers. "River, Mining, Border, and then the Jabari. The big guy in Shuri's sand table, the one you wanted to fight? He's the leader of the Jabari. M'Baku."

Bucky shrugs.

"Whatever she wants me to help with, I guess. Last time it was handing her grass stems while she wove them into a basket sort of thing."