[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]

"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.

[nerves_of_ice]

He shrugs, very slightly, and looks around the hut. "Shuri thought so too. That's why -- this."

Bucky eats a few more bites in silence before he says,

"You thought I was responsible for Vienna." He says it again as he had the day before - matter-of-fact, without blame, and with a weary acceptance that goes right down to the bone. "You did what you thought you had to do to stop me."

[from_the_outside]

She leans her head onto her hand and toys with her food for a long moment. "I know."

But that doesn't make it right. It doesn't mitigate the real and lasting harm she did.

Zemo had played them all like instruments. She can know and accept that without being able to accept her role in it. "And I'm not sure what else I could have done. With all the tips coming in, it was only a matter of time before the Task Force found you. But that doesn't mean I didn't make the wrong call."

She offers him a wry half-smile. "You're just going to have to let me feel terrible about it for a while."

[nerves_of_ice]

He shrugs again, and turns his attention back to his meal.

"As long as you know that I don't blame you for it."

[from_the_outside]

"I know," she says again, but with a warmer inflection. She taps her spoon into her food for a few more seconds, then goes back to eating.

Plenty of other people would blame her. But not Bucky. He's a lot like Steve in that way.

"So, candy bars and a houseplant?" It's after a few more bites. She's making her way through this bowl with the efficient speed of the very hungry. "I don't think I would have pegged you as someone with a green thumb."

But it's a nice mental image. "The sweet tooth, I can relate to."

[nerves_of_ice]

"It was a gift." He sounds bemused about it.

"The candy - it's good energy. It had caramel in it, though. I was trying to see if that made it better than chocolate alone."

[from_the_outside]

She gives him a quizzical look – who...would have given him a gift? – but shakes her head smilingly as he goes on.

"Did it?"

She loves chocolate and caramel both.

[nerves_of_ice]

"Yeah. And whatever the kind of chocolate was, at least it wasn't really strong or overpowering that way. So... pretty good, I guess."

[from_the_outside]

"Sounds like a successful experiment, then," she says cheerfully, and grabs another piece of flatbread.

"Maybe next time you can try chocolate and peanut butter."

A personal favorite.

[nerves_of_ice]

"I'll keep it in mind."

He sets his spoon in his empty bowl and leans back in his chair.

[from_the_outside]

She's only a few bites behind him, and soon enough she puts her spoon down and sits back with a sigh.

"Much better. Thank you. I was starting to get loopy."

Low blood sugar and Sharon Carter is a pretty flammable combination. She takes a sip of water, then pushes up and out of the chair to collect her bowl and spoon and his, bringing them back over to the pot he'd used. "I'll take care of these. Where do you wash up?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"Hey, no," he protests, straightening in his seat. "I can get it, you don't need to--"

[from_the_outside]

"You cooked," she says firmly. "I'll clean up."

Those are the rules. At least, she thinks they are. It's been a long time since she's shared a meal with someone in their home. "Besides, there's like...six dishes, total, here. It'll take about thirty seconds."

She arches her eyebrows at him. "So? Unless you have a sink tucked away in here, too...?"

[nerves_of_ice]

He studies her for a second, clearly weighing her determination, then sighs.

"Outside. Back of the hut. I filled the water barrel yesterday. Solar heating warms it - from the black bag."

A beat.

"Thank you."

[from_the_outside]

"Thank you for feeding me," she responds, then gathers up the dirty dishes and disappears out the door.

It's a set-up she finds familiar from camping trips and summer camp: a black rubber bag filled with water with an attached hose and sprinkler head, a small soaking bin, a bottle brush and washcloth, and some biodegradable soap. Easy enough. The water is plenty warm from the high Wakandan sun, and she hums to herself as she soaps up and rinses pot, bowls, spoons.

It's the first semi-normal chore she's done in a while, and it feels kind of good.

Once everything is wet but clean, she piles them all back together and heads back inside to put them away again.

[nerves_of_ice]

He's standing by the shelves, and taps the rough cloth laid out across the top shelf. "Drying rack," he summarizes. "Or near enough."

"And I should get going. It's not a good idea to keep Ayemi waiting."

[from_the_outside]

She sets the dishes out and wipes her hands off on her pants.

"Okay." Brightly. "I'm ready."

[nerves_of_ice]

He just looks at her.

"Sharon." Very gently. "Stay here. Take a nap. Get some rest."

[from_the_outside]

Her mouth twists as she looks at him, and if it looks like she's considering her chances of winning this argument, it's because she is.

But she's also not really sure she wants to win it. She huffs out a faintly exasperate breath through her nose and gives in. "Fine.

"You sure you don't mind?"

It is his space, after all. And she's intruded on it a lot already.

[nerves_of_ice]

"I'm sure." He nods toward the bed.

"Make yourself comfortable. I'll wake you up when I get back."