[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

[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."

[from_the_outside]

"Oh, yeah." Her gaze goes a little distantly pleased. "He looks like he'd be fun to fight."

Maybe Shuri will let her test out the sand spar sometime soon.

Coming back to herself, she gives him a smile. "That sounds like a very pleasant task for your afternoon."

This place hardly feels real. Sitting by a lake? Weaving baskets? Lingering over long, gorgeous sunsets?

She's always been a creature of action, but having the opportunity to slow down for a little while feels just as lifesaving as T'Challa's offer of asylum.

[nerves_of_ice]

He's tempted to suggest she pick an opponent closer to her own size, but on second thought decides not to stick his foot in his mouth.

"You can come along," he offers. "I mean, if you want. You don't have to. I'm sure you have other stuff to do."

[from_the_outside]

She spreads her hands and shrugs. "My schedule is wide open."

There's not much for her to do here yet, not until Shuri decides where and how she could be useful in the lab, not until Nakia needs her help with something. She has no job, no apartment to clean, no errands to run.

For a second, the magnitude of her decisions swoops down on her like a shift in gravity, but she shakes it off again. "I'm happy to tag along."

[nerves_of_ice]

"If you want," Bucky repeats.

It's been a complicated day so far, for them both, in slightly different ways, and a couple of things are beginning to sink in for him now. He gives her a look that's a little more carefully assessing.

"Or you could take a nap. Or... did you eat anything yet today?"

[from_the_outside]

"A nap sounds pretty good, too," she admits. If she'd had a good night's sleep...

But she hadn't, and she can admit that at least part of her reaction last night and today is because she's still so damn tired. His second question gets a slightly guilty: "Um..."

Well, she'd eaten a lot at dinner. "Not yet."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Uh-huh."

Bucky looks toward the Citadel, then back at Sharon. "Your room's probably nicer, and I'm sure whatever the kitchen staff can put together there's a lot better, but..." He trails off there with a shrug and nods toward the hut.

"If you want."

[from_the_outside]

"It's very far away," she points out, and now that he's mentioned it, she is feeling pretty hungry. "If you don't mind me eating your food, that's easiest."

She's not at all sure yet how to navigate things like getting food at the Citadel yet, anyhow.

[nerves_of_ice]

"I don't mind," he tells her, gently, and starts toward the hut. "Come on."

Inside, he pulls out a chair for her at the little table before crouching down next to a cloth-covered set of shelves beside a small cabinet. The cabinet, when he opens it, turns out to be an ingeniously designed miniature fridge fueled by a small power cell, which also runs the equally small induction cooktop that turns out to comprise the flat top of the cabinet. He sets a pot from the fridge on the cooktop and flicks the switch to activate it, then pulls the cloth back from the shelves to reveal two plates, two bowls, two mugs, two glasses - all meticulously arranged.

Everything in the small hut is arranged with similar care, in fact, including the throw that lies folded into a pillow at the head of the bed.

[from_the_outside]

She takes the offered seat and leans her elbows on the tabletop so she can prop her chin on her hands and watch him move around the little space. He looks comfortable, moving easily, every action routine.

Bucky Barnes, domestic. Who would have thought it possible?

She looks around at the neat little space again, still marveling at seeing him someplace bright and comfortable and homey, even if it's a little bare, until her eyes catch on the throw. It's folded there, at the head of the bed, as a pillow.

She thinks about the green throw that's laying rumpled at the head of her own bed, in the room Nakia had prepared for her. "I'm sorry I got upset with you before," she says, after a second's thought. He'd done something kind, and she'd overreacted, didn't think. "That was unfair."

Also, she's going to have to call off Nakia before her friend decides to punish him for his perceived slight.

[nerves_of_ice]

He shrugs, keeping his gaze on the pot as he stirs it.

"You thought I was trying to hurt you." He says it as if this would be a natural assumption; as though of course someone would believe that of him. "It's okay."

He sets the two bowls on the top shelf while the meal finishes heating and reaches for a glass, then a pitcher. Bucky pours her a glass of water and sets it on the table in front of her.

[from_the_outside]

It's not okay, really, but she doesn't want to argue about it after the complicated conversations they've just navigated.

She'll just have to make it up to him some other way. Her hands go around the glass after he sets it down, and she gives him a wry smile. "Thanks."

Water is good. She'd kind of dehydrated herself, because apparently something about him turns her into a lovesick sixteen year old again.

She nods to the mini-fridge, the shelves, the hot plate. "This is a pretty nice little set-up you've got here."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Thanks." He tests the contents of the pot and starts spooning the mixture into the bowls. "Shuri thought it was a good idea, especially after I told her about the apartment in Bucharest."

He glances sideways at her.

"You never saw it, did you? They didn't take pictures or anything?"

Probably not, he figures, considering the state it had been in after the fight.

[from_the_outside]

She shakes her head, her hands curving back around the water glass. "No. I was watching the feed from the body cams –"

Which didn't give much of a look around, and most were taken out of commission. "And I could hear it all."

Including Steve and Sam.

And him.

"But we never got a good look inside the room. And any photos they took...after...weren't the first priority for analysis." She makes a slight face, shrugging one shoulder. "Probably I would have been involved and seen them later if I hadn't thrown my lot in with you guys."

[nerves_of_ice]

"You said something about that. That you coordinated."

There's no accusation in the quiet words. He sets one of the bowls in front of her, hands her a spoon, and then puts his own bowl in front of the other chair. Bucky takes a moment to pull a plate of flatbread from the shelves and put that between them, get himself a glass of water, and finally sits down across from her before he continues.

"I'd been there for a few weeks. I thought it would be a good idea to try making a more stable base of operations for myself, for a little while. Something more than a campsite or rented room. Good to blend in that way, too. At least I thought it would be."

He sounds wry about it.

"Small, like this, but I didn't need anything big. I had a couple of things that I'd gotten because... just because. Candy bars on the top of the fridge. A plant on the balcony. It probably didn't survive me throwing Steve into it, though."

[from_the_outside]

She sighs, a little. "Yeah."

She'd been good at her job. Very good.

But that's all over now. She pulls the bowl towards herself and stirs the beans and rice in it with the spoon he'd given her, giving him a rueful half-smile. "Probably not unless it was a lot sturdier than most houseplants tend to be."

She takes a bite, chews at it, and swallows. It's pretty far from the best thing she's ever eaten, but she's survived on rice and beans often enough to enjoy it anyway. It's hot and filling, and that's all she really needs it to be. She reaches to tear off a piece of the bread and bites into that, too, giving him a coy look as she chews.

"And here you told me you couldn't cook. This is downright edible."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Not that sturdy."

He gives her a wry look in return.

"I know. I'm better with basic fuel than actual food that tastes like food. Sorry."

[from_the_outside]

"Believe me, it's better than I could do," she points out. And if the way she's eating is any evidence, she likes it just fine.

Besides, if she were rude to a host who is clearly trying his best, her long-past etiquette teachers would somehow know, hunt her down, and force her to practice small talk over bone china tea cups.

But she's a little distracted, thinking about his description of the flat in Bucharest. "I think it's good that you decided to have a few things just...because."

He's re-learning how to be a person; having a space of his own and having opinions about what to have in that space is definitely part of it. "And it was probably nice to stay in one spot for a while."

She shakes her head, rueful. "Sorry we showed up and ruined everything."

She's going to be feeling guilty about her role in all of that for a long time to come, she knows.