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#grappling and tumbling on the lawn
cuepickle · 6 months
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Can’t decide if they fought each other or together
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driftward · 1 year
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Dreamtime: Zoissette and Keith
((...Does Nyx Dream?))
Zoissette held up her shield, ducked behind it, as Keith came in hard, several swings, blocking even as she pointed to various spots in his form where he could do better.
Odd. She did not remember him being a regular at training. Or at all. In fact, had she gone to training herself these past several moons?
The training room was otherwise empty, except for an exuberant G'raha Tia on the sidelines, waving a fist in the air and cheering periodically. The seat next to him was empty, with just a cup of tea in it. Odd. She was fair certain he preferred juices or alcohol. She smiled wanly at him before turning her attention back to Keith.
A few more practice passes, and then he grappled her, grabbing her shield, and she was flying through the air, and her body did not slam so much as it whumpfed down, with great force but no hardness at all, into a plush lawn.
She sat up, smelling meats and veggies grilling, and looked over to see Keith standing over the grill, grinning broadly at her. A familiar dark staff twisted around a purple orb leaned against the house nearby, seemingly left by its owner.
Keith picked a sausage off the grill, and put it onto a plate, holding it out to her. On his side, G'raha wrapped his arms around him, and gave him a hug before leaning up to kiss his ear, and he laughed.
She heard laughter, and she turned to look to see G'khenna running around to circle around the two, and Keith picked her up.
She grimace grinned and took a half-step back.
"Not interested in a little miracle, Zoissette?" asked Keith conversationally as they hiked up the side of a mountain.
Zoissette was bewildered. "What is going on, we hardly know one another," she protested. She looked further up the trail, and saw G'raha, that big youthful smile on his face, as he waved an arm at them to encourage them forward.
"Yeah but you know G'raha! And he's a friend of yours. We should be friends too."
Keith was pumping out squats, and she was right next to him, matching him, keeping up with him. G'raha stood in front of Keith, facing him, giving him small encouraging gestures while he counted off Keith's reps, and Zoissette looked, and nobody was counting off hers for her. She groaned. She could keep track herself.
A pair of aether goggles were on the floor in front of her, sat on top of a starlens. She frowned at that, and stopped at the bottom of her next squat, reaching out a hand for them
And falling over, tumbling through the void. Keith swam next to her, G'raha clinging to his back, holding on. The goggles, the starlens, the staff, the tea cup, all fell around her, spinning in the dark.
And then she landed, all the stuff falling around her in a pile. Keith sat in a chair nearby, hugging G'raha in his lap. Both of them looked over at her, then turned to one another, and kissed, deeply, passionately, Keith holding G'raha close and G'raha practically clinging to the Hyur.
Zoissette got up, gathering all the things around her, and walking in the house, putting each back where it belonged.
"You can stay, you know! Maybe you should ask," said Keith cheerfully.
She had just about had it.
"I most certainly will not," she said heatedly. "I will help, I will do what must needs be done, and and I will stay the hells out of the way."
She stood, fists at her side, and looked between the two.
"I am very happy for both of you, however," she said stiffly, and she stormed out of the house, taking care to not slam the door behind her. That would be rude.
Keith was waiting for her outside, and he smiled at her.
"What are you afraid of?" he asked.
She glared at him.
"Come on! We're not that different. I mean, okay, I'm stronger-"
"Debatable."
"And you're way smarter-"
"Debatable."
"But look, we're happy!" he said, holding out his arm, and G'raha walked into him, and tucked neatly into his side. "You can be happy too," he said, smiling.
She glowered at him, as he and G'raha clasped their hands together, then held them out and opened them up at her, revealing a large black carnation nestled up next to a smaller black carnation. Two silver spheres rolled off the edge of their hands, and two silver chains connected to them unfurled as they fell, coming to a stop, hovering in the air.
You can too, echoed in her mind, and she stared.
She turned, and opened the door, and walked away.
(( thanks for the ask <3 )) (( As for your other question, there is one way to find out... ))
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libidomechanica · 1 year
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Untitled # 9284
A shield, her fall; she cries to peer.     Which makes human being a Titan hiccups in holy     merriment, from which kings could have done: Marry a tender     hesitation alone wide awake, with Cossacques pursued     the men, are wrong her
throbbing station of what was dead     woman to the sold tomb. Then a Mammon grins on her ere     they grapple to march with me the unconscious stone battery     one, pervaded him as he loves, hills no, not ask a     kiss, when one act at once
may decompose, but lived and bone     by one of us, as beating each lovely far her, well     of brow, nor signs: his hands, when a childhood wished for some prison     of Polouzki: this matter hand, not keep thorns and replied,     he came yonder, so
she wound; hers conversation I     couldn’t see ourselves, that passed day was a passion be a wave     hot youth at once again, my cue for his gore. And if the     red condition, till Gazing grew broad estate reveal’d. And     if you send, less fight, and
hound, the others, o’er whisk the sad     eyes will. Yet thus is the womb is not so love doth swell, sick,     ourselves have left the lawns. She sits in stark and save a few     who wish of a calf in at the imagination, are     put an end of Azra,
whateuer may I bake. Esteem, like     the snow’s daughter, and in a haze of concatenations,     ask’d her station—if he was a pall, the morning. I said,     was well as they sow. With scorners, from this unsighing pride,     He ceased in Catherine’s reign
this explicit emails, and scarce     wounds! The door, and ravenous and closely fused as deep this     typewriter like most, on a little time he foreseeing,     still clouds bedimme my fare; to win, to tumbled back in their     faults done wide wounds of bloody
hands and so—she awoke with     flutes, toilet and night to leaue to ill stirring or seedling     the shadow chequer-chased by the quick seven together     tune nor shrink from of existence, apt to whose sigh’d, and Echo     the day, stella, I
say, mine ear, a female dress your     own horse race. And they wall; but not unholy her breasts beneath     the window as an earphone with burst like the found, with     conflicts better; you the scorch’d with Melissa Florian,     you must taste—indeed the
rightful green, as the more brown from     Spain. Would be six or severe, sublimer worse than like voice:     I am shame! And peace, or shame! But heaven, or nothing     I’ve mickle glass, twas light reap the best, of hand, addressing     in the silent was built
thus early morning like a billows,     whose set doth makes and yet content to me? As thou dost     stalls, that which make epic poesy so rare and whom she had     dropt off in vain to be a wave hot your lips, her hands of     Love fray’d himself, the garden
sometimes still kept us closed     bawk, sae gentle readiest hour gave whate’er it may not too     few the slashing, but there, as though the scimitar, and his     own no prosody can every good announced how should fain     say by which pass’d for all.
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anonymous0writer · 3 years
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partner in crime | r. cameron
summary: she is rafe's partner in crime; always will be, according to him. until he does the unthinkable.
wc: 1,392
warnings: tv show rafe lol, obx spoilers? but more of rafe's s2 behavior
a/n: im writing for obx again! also im changing the style of my fics
His bruised fingertips brush over the blood-spattered skin of her shoulder, his hard, cerulean eyes admiring the freckles of ruby blood sitting on her heated skin like jewels. The corner of his mouth twitches into a cruel form of a smile that etches onto his similarly blood-painted features. His nose scrunches, his thumb brushing under his nostrils in a habitual movement, smearing blood over the top of his lip. Lips pulling back from his perfectly pearl-white teeth, he leans closer to the junction of her shoulder and neck, breath fanning over her smooth skin as he whispers comforts into the shell of her ear.
"I'm proud of you," his words come tumbling off his tongue seemingly unbidden as if he's conveniently on auto-pilot mode. His palm curls around her other shoulder, a first glance comforting gesture that hides his true intentions of keeping her close. A heartbeat later, he feels the quiver of her muscles and bones underneath the rough surface of his palm, a sure sign of her flagging cooperation. "It's over, baby."
The reminder only does so much to soothe her, and her lashes brush against her cheeks as she tries to relax into each rolled syllable of his succor. But she's shaking and she swears she can feel each droplet of scarlet blood on her skin like a brand. Her frantic eyes wander, looking for much-needed alleviation but end up snagging on the peek of brown army boots under the pale tarp. A sob catches in her throat as his fingers press against the curve of her lips, hard enough to bruise her into silence.
"There's no going back," Rafe continues, knowing by the wild look in her eyes and the rack of sobs threatening to slip past his fingers she is a ticking time bomb. Unless he can get her under control. He bows his head, locking his calloused cerulean eyes with hers, rooting her into the lush grass underneath the tread of her shoes. "Look at me, alright? We're fine. You're fine. I'm going to clean up the body and we won't ever have to think about this moment again. It'll be okay."
Words still locked behind his tight grip, she fails to reply with the words begging to leap off her tongue. If he hadn't clamped a ring-clad hand over her lips, she might've voiced that they just killed someone and that she will always think about this moment. As if he knows it, Rafe only tightens his grasp, eyes narrowing as he regards her harshly. "Be a good girl and cooperate, okay?"
Knowing submission is her option, she forces her chin up in down in reluctant agreement. Rafe's response is delayed but his touch eventually lifts from her skin and she tries her best to reign in her erratic breathing with controlled exercises. Beside her, the tall blonde boy offers no further comfort or aid; leaving her to grapple with the feelings roaring in her head alone. Despite the tepid, suffocating heat hanging in the air, a shiver crawls down her spine as she tracks Rafe's deliberate movements. He does as promised; making quick work of packing the body in the back of his truck and closing the hatch with a thundering echo. Gravel crunches under the tread of his designer shoes as he closely watches his doubled-over girlfriend try desperately to muster enough control to pull herself together in the long driveway of his front lawn.
"Let's go," he speaks, prompting her to lift her head.
"I- I thought you were handling it?" she scrapes enough volume and unshaken syllables to answer him, palms resting against the curve of her knees.
Rafe cocks his head, golden hair falling into his pale eyes as he quizzically surveys the girl before him. "I said I was going to clean up the body. Not get rid of it- that's your job."
Eyes trained on the small golf ball with the personally engraved words 'happy anniversary love r.' written across it, the girl wraps her white-painted hands expertly over the shiny club, sizing up the short distance between the personalized ball and the hole. Before swinging, the girl draws her eyes to the tall figure casting a towering shadow over her stance, sapphire eyes trained on the distance.
"Rafe," she drawls slowly, adding hints of melody in her words to grab the superior golfers' short-lived attention. She succeeds, the boy's gaze falling to her and the shot she's sloppily lined up for the sole purpose of getting the boy closer.
Releasing a short breath of poorly concealed frustration, Rafe rolls his eyes skyward before moving to rearrange his girlfriend and her obviously horrible golfing skills. Standing over her, the toe of his shoe nudging against her own to get her to shuffle across the green a few inches, Rafe reaches for the club to show her the right way to hold it.
The calm, tepid summer air is split with the rising wail of sirens and the burning glare of red and blue lights that circle through the pale sky with furious intent. Her head snaps up, eyes growing wide and frantic at the rampant ideas building in her head about the meaning of those sirens. She turns sharply on her heel, eyes searching the calm facade of Rafe's features for any hint of shared panic. She comes up empty-handed, the boy's eyes not even on her as he watches the horizon, where the cop cars wail their impending arrival. Taking a shaking breath that fails to soothe the wild beat of her heart, her lips part in question.
"Rafe? What's happening?" the words fall from her chapped lips in a demanding tone, panic fraying the ends of her nerves. When the older boy doesn't reply, his mouth thinning as he expertly ignores her and her pleas. "Rafe."
Her throat tightens in fear when the blonde's gaze finally settles on her, letting the realization that her worst ideas may not be that far-fetched sink into her bones. Feet scrambling, the girl stumbles back a step, flattening the perfectly maintained green of the golf course. She repeats his name, the syllables reaching a higher decibel as the panic overwhelms her. Her fingers tighten around the gold club, knuckles paling with the ferocity of her grip.
"What is going on?" she enunciates, searching for some sort of answer, unable to find one embedded in Rafe's all too calm features. The squeal of fast-paced tires against smooth road breakthrough her panic-hazed mind, her movements become wild, a choked sound falling from her lips as she falls back again.
Noticing her fluttering fingers dancing along the length of her golf club and the rapid rise and fall of her chest, along with the distraught gleam to her eyes, Rafe takes two swift strides to her side. His palms fall heavily on her bowed shoulders,
"Hey," he mummers softly, cooing at the unnerved girl before him. He continues whispering calming words while holding her gaze, one of his hands snaking closer and closer to the failing grip she has on the club. "It'll all work out."
Rafe steps back, long fingers closing firmly around the metallic club as he yanks it swiftly from her grip. His blue eyes stay on hers as he leaves her, stranded on the small island of green, his footfalls the only sound as he continues propelling himself back.
He nods to her silently, his gaze unwavering. "It'll all work out." He mouths again.
Hands in the air!
Rafe watches in silent reverie as the girl whips around to face the array of policemen, black barreled guns aimed at her heart and demanding for her hands in the air. Before complying, she turns, mouth parted as she screams his name, falling roughly to her knees as large hands press down on her shoulders, yanking her arms behind her back and clamping cold-metal cuffs tightly around her wrists. Rafe can't hear her screams of betrayal as the cops nod to Rafe calmly as they being to drag her shaking and bound form away. Her eyes don't leave his, intent on silently communicating her boundless rage left all for him. The boy, however, catches the end of her vow before the black-painted door of the cop car closes her in the car's cabin.
"I will take you down, Rafe Cameron."
[tags: @possiamo-andare @downbytheouterbanks @ijustreallylovethem @stilesflannels @ilovejjmaybank]
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wiypt-writes · 3 years
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Stark Spangled Banner
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Ch 28- Crossbones
Summary: The Avengers uncover the identity of the mysterious Crossbones and mount a mission to apprehend him in Lagos.
Warnings: Bad language, Smut! (NSFW, Under 18s) Bad Language words.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark
A/N: NEW BANNER ALERT @angrybirdcr​ has made a DOOZY for the Civil War part of the Story.
Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.
Chapter 27
Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist
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January 2016
“Are you sure this isn’t a team call?” Katie asked Steve, watching as he picked up his shield.
“No.” He shook his head firmly as they walked down the corridor.  “We don’t even know if he will be there.”
“But…”
“Katie, stop!” Steve chuckled, pushing the door open to enter the hangar. “We’ll be fine. This is intelligence gathering, I’ve no intention of heading straight off after this guy, not until we find out what his play is.”
“His play is arms trading.” Nat interjected dryly as she appeared at the side of the jet.
“Which we are going to gather intelligence on.” Steve looked at her sternly “Nothing more.”
Katie bit her lip, she wasn’t convinced.
“We’ll be fine.” Steve continued, putting both his hands on her shoulders before he deftly changed the subject. “Don’t you have an interview to be getting ready for?”
He watched as the gentle smile spread across her face, a surge of pride flooding his system. She’d recently found out that the author of one of the books SIP had published last year had worked their way onto the Pulitzer Nominee list for fiction. The book itself held a plot centred around a War Veteran and the letters he wrote to his girl back home, and she’d roped Steve into helping the author keep it as factually correct as possible, something he had found strangely nostalgic yet enjoyable. Upon publishing it had flown off the shelves, the original five hundred copies went within three hours causing a mad scramble for a second run and downloads had been off the scale. Other than the Thrombey book they had published, it was their biggest seller to date, shifting almost half a million copies in a month, and with a foreword from Steve Rogers, critics had raved about how poignant it was.
Whilst it hadn’t won the prize, simply being a nominee was an honour in itself according to Katie. The Publicists at SIP had arranged for the author to be interviewed in a few newspapers and magazines along with one of them also requesting Katie, to discuss the launch of her new charity The March Foundation, which would sit alongside Tony and Pepper’s latest initiative- The September Foundation, but instead of focusing on inventors and science, it would instead be centred around authors and the arts.
The name was a play on words, not only being another month to compliment Tony’s, but also to honour both the War Based fiction that had inspired it and the man who had saved her life as March was the month of Bucky’s birth. A decision that had really touched Steve.
She took a deep breath and sighed, as she eyed Natasha heading up the ramp into the jet.
“Just be careful…”
“I’m always careful.” Steve kissed her gently.
“Liar.” She mumbled against his lips. He grinned and pulled back, pecking her mouth once more before he started up the ramp. He paused at the top and turned to face her. “We’ll be back late tonight. Don’t wait up.”
“I won’t!” she teased.
He flashed her another smile and then he hit the button and the ramp started to close. A loud siren told Katie that the hangar door was opening and that was her cue to leave. She headed back over to the steps at the side, leading up to the mezzanine, and as she watched through the window she saw the jet fly out of the side and over the frosty compound grounds. It up through the clouds and gone from sight before she had reached the double doors at the top.
The base was a hive of activity already, despite it being little after seven am. Katie was heading for an hour or so in the gym before her day began properly. She stuck her Bluetooth headphones in, selected the usual work out play-list and began to run on the treadmill, slowly at first to ease herself in- she was a little bit stiff and sore from her sparring session with Natasha yesterday. Nat had really upped the ante on Katie over the last month or so, which was good as Katie was now pretty much on a par with her when it came hand to hand, something Steve had been completely astonished to see after walking in on the two women just as his wife floored Natasha with a well-placed leg swipe the red head didn’t see coming. 
Forty minutes later, Katie swapped to the rower to finish off, and was approximately half way through the three-kilometre distance when her music cut off and the screen to the right of the machine switched over from the play-list to a visual of Rhodey.
“Hey Kiddo,” He smiled as she stopped rowing to look at him. “Sorry to interrupt, but we’ve had a sensor trip on the outer perimeter of the facility.”
“You send someone out there?” She frowned, catching her breath as she picked up the bottle of water that was to her right.
“Yeah, Sam is currently out there looking for it, just thought, well seeing as Cap and Nat are out, you’re technically the one in charge so…”  
She let out a snort as she swallowed a mouth full of her drink.  Being third in command was something she didn’t really care for, knowing full well it was Steve’s way giving her some kind of authority over simply being the Captain’s Wife, but she’d accepted the gesture simply because he’d been so excited when he had asked her she couldn’t refuse.
“Okay, I’ll go and check it out. “
Standing up she left the gym and moved quickly to the armoury, grabbing a gun, a coms piece and a fleece jacket before quickly making her way outside.
“What’s going on up there, Sam?” Rhodey spoke in her ear as she walked into the cold air, spotting Sam circling above.
“I’m at the location of the sensor trip, but I’m not seeing anything.” He said. “Oh, hang on…”
“What is it?” Katie asked, watching him as he circled above her.
“Roof top…”
“Gimme a lift?” 
Sam swooped down from the clear, winter sky and she grabbed his arm as he effortlessly pulled her up, dropping them both onto the flat roof of one of the buildings.
“I can see you.” Sam called out loudly as they landed.
Katie frowned, as she didn’t know what Sam was talking about until out of nowhere a man in a red and silver suit, with an insect like helmet suddenly appeared. Katie cocked her gun and aimed it at him.
“Who the hell are you?” she questioned. As they watched the man started to awkwardly introduce himself to Sam, his mask lifted to reveal a shaky smile as he waved.
“Hi, I’m Scott. I know who you are, obviously, you’re Katie Stark, I mean Rogers…” Scott started trying to hold back his enthusiasm and motioning towards Sam and Katie with a chuckle. "I’m a big fan.”
"Appreciate it. But like the lady asked, who the hell are you?” Sam echoed Katie’s earlier sentiments.
“I’m Ant-Man.” Scott or Ant-Man answered confidently. Sam and Katie shared an incredulous look and Katie mouthed the name back to him and he shrugged. Katie lowered her gun slightly.
“Wanna tell me what you want?” She questioned Ant-Man as the man tried to explain why the two Avengers hadn’t heard of him.
Scott pointed towards a building to their left, maintaining eye contact with Katie as he spoke “I was hoping I could grab a piece of technology. Just for a few days, then I’d return it. I need it to, uh, save the world- you know how that is.”
“Yeah, we know exactly how that is,” Sam said to Scott and Katie felt her mouth twitching into a grin.
“What piece of technology, and what do you mean saving the world?” she asked.
“I’d love to tell you but Hank Pym said never to trust a Stark.” The man called Scott, or Ant-Man was almost apologetic. “Even though you’re technically a Rogers now.”
Katie frowned, she’d never heard of a Hank Pym before, but that was irrelevant now. Sam gave a sigh besides her and stepped forwards.
“We’ve located the breach.” he spoke “Bringing him in…”
“I’m really sorry about this.” Scott rushed out and as Sam reached out to him he vanished.
“What the…” Katie spun round and felt something hit her, hard in the back. She fell forward onto the gravelled surface of the roof before rolling onto her back, gun raised again just in time to see Sam flying backwards off the edge, tumbling through the air and grappling with something whilst flying over the lawns of the facility.
Katie could do nothing but stand and watch from her vantage point as Sam continued to wrestle with, then shoot at the man who could shrink and grow seemingly at will. And if she was completely honest, it was kind of entertaining to watch.
“This guy would actually be pretty useful.” Katie mused into the coms, trying but failing to hide the amusement in her voice “Are you recording this? For future, recruitment purposes obviously.”
“All over it.” Rhodey responded, a slight chuckle punctuating his confirmation.
It was when the two men crashed into the storage unit that Ant-Man had wanted to break into in the first place that she started to get concerned.
“Err do we have cameras in there?” she questioned Rhodey.
“Uh… negative.” Rhodey answered after a short pause.
“Shit.” Running to the side of the roof she scaled down the metal ladder at the side, dropping the last eight feet or so, landing gently before she ran towards the storage building. At that point Sam came crashing backwards through the metal door and Katie flung her arms up to shield her face from the debris before glancing up. Sam’s flight pattern was jerky and off and he was gripping at his pack on his back.
“He’s in my pack!” Sam shouted before he landed hard in the dirt and with a groan, pulled himself into a standing position, yanking off his goggles.
“You okay?” Katie asked as she ran over to him.
“Yeah, fine…” He sighed before he looked at her. “You know, it’s really important to me that Cap never finds out about this.”
Katie grinned and the pair of them scouted around but to no avail, there was no sign of Ant-Man, or Scott anywhere. Katie instructed Rhodey to get the door fixed and lock it down again and said she would speak to Tony to find out what was in there. Sam was luckily not hurt, just a slight bruising to his pride so Katie left him at the lab with Lawson to look at making the repairs to his pack before she headed off to get changed.
*****
Steve and Natasha landed in Sadove, Crimea and were instantly greeted by the man who was leading the investigation into the raid on the local police station. The last three out of six hits the guy had made had been on small, local outfits with less resistance than the other places he had hit but that was hardly surprising. The former SHIELD base he had hit in Mexico had been heavily guarded, which made Steve think that he had perhaps suffered losses to his team which was making him rethink his strategy. As Natasha chatted to the man in his local language, Steve hung back before the man nodded to Natasha and strode towards him.
“Captain Rogers.” he said, English thick with accent “Inspector Chernov.”
Steve shook the man’s hand “Pleasure to meet you in person Inspector.”
“So you are interested in the man who raided our local station?” “He’s been on our radar for a while.” Steve said, choosing his words carefully “But we don’t have much to go on.” “Well, I’m not sure we can help but I can take you down there and you can see for yourself.” Steve nodded. “That would be great, thanks.”
It wasn’t a long drive, and once they arrived Steve and Natasha were allowed to wander round the scene undisturbed, providing they didn’t interfere with the police and teams already swamping the area. Their search showed them nothing new and they moved to watching the CCTV which the Authorities had refused to send them. They could have hacked into it, but Steve was keen to keep the tentatively growing communication lines with Crimea and Russia as amicable as possible, especially in the light of Sokovia. The Avengers were not a political party, so by remaining respectful of their requests to meet only in person he hoped it went someway to proving they were here to help and had no ulterior motives.
As such they sat in the mobile control centre, scanning the CCTV. Steve watched the footage and sighed.
“This isn’t HYDRA.” Nat concluded and Steve agreed.
“I know, it’s not their MO. This guy is too haphazard.” Steve pondered. “Just wondering why, considering how well organised he is, he is leaving so much devastation behind.”
“Minimum effort leaving maximum casualties.” Natasha said, watching the footage “He simply doesn’t care who he takes out.” “Well he’s hardly gonna care about that if he’s dealing black market arms.” Steve sighed.
They watched the footage some more and Steve held his hand up to Natasha to play it at normal speed when they reached the bit where the key perps were on screen.
“What’s he doing?” He frowned, looking at Crossbones. The man was stood in the middle of the room, looking around.
“He’s scanning for Cameras.” Nat answered as they both watched. 
There was something familiar about the way the man walked and held himself, but Steve couldn’t quite place it. As they continued the footage, Crossbones located the camera they were watching through and looked directly up at it, pulling his mask up a little to reveal his mouth, clearly saying something.
“Can you enhance that?” Steve asked. Natasha tapped at it.
It zoomed in on the man and Natasha spoke “looks like something about it being personal…”
She held her phone up to the footage and then pressed something, and the phone spoke to her in a robotic voice.
“Big Guy…I just want you to know, this aint personal.” Steve’s gut clenched. The last time he had heard those words were in an elevator in the Triskelion.
“Rogers?” Natasha looked at him, noticing the nerve which was twitching in his jaw “What is it? Does that mean something to you?”
“In a fashion.” He turned to face her. “It’s Rumlow.”
****** The interviews went well and once the photos etc were done Katie and Tony retreated to the living area of the Tower for a well-earned drink as they put the final touches of their tour together. They were to start visiting various Universities across the US to roll out their foundation grants. To ease them both in gently, the first University they were going to was Columbia, so not far from home. Tony and Pepper would be presenting and discussing to students within the School of Engineering and Applied Sciences and Katie in the School of the Arts for Students on the Writing Programme.
Their chatter moved from work to Tony asking how the Compound was going, and Katie remembered the events of that morning.
“You ever heard of a bloke called Hank Pym?” she asked suddenly.
Tony paused for a moment, frowning at her sudden change of subject, but something stirred in his mind. “The name rings a bell, hang on…FRIDAY, search all files reference Hank Pym.” He instructed, tapping at something on his tablet.
After a few seconds something flashed up in the corner of the screen.
“Yeah, here you go.” He pressed another button causing the image to reflect in front of them as a hologram. “He worked with Dad and SHIELD on a programme called Project GOLIATH.”
“What the hell was that?” Katie asked, taking a pull from her bottle.
“A research programme into some kind of Nano particle.” Tony said as the pair of them simultaneously ran through the information on the screen.
“Ahhhh.” Katie nodded, “makes sense…” “What does?”
Katie explained about the encounter with Scott and Tony gave a hum of agreement. 
“That could actually be kinda useful.”
“I know.” she agreed “But he vanished after he got whatever he wanted. Any thoughts on what it could be?”
“That facility holds a load of crap that was Dad’s” Tony said simply “Could be anything.”
“Well, nothing we could see was missing, but it might be worth you taking a look.” she suggested.
He shrugged “I can do, but there was nothing remotely dangerous in there. Was just a load of old signal jammers and code breakers we don’t really need anymore.”
“Well, I did try and ask what him what it was he wanted, you know, on account of him saying he was saving the world, maybe we could have helped with that, being the Avengers and all, but he simply turned round and said ‘Hank Pym told me never to trust a Stark’.”
She drained her bottle of beer as Tony did the same and he stood up, taking the empties to retrieve 2 more from the fridge.
“Clearly one of many in the long line of people dad pissed off.” Tony rolled his eyes as he popped the lids, before he sighed “I’m actually surprised no one tried to kill him before, you know, he rammed their car into a tree.”
Katie looked at her brother and swallowed. Tony had no idea how close to the truth he was.
“Sorry.” he slid the beer across the bar, mistaking her guilty silence for one of upset “That was out of order.”
“For all his faults I don’t think Dad was a bad man.” Katie spoke quietly “And he did love us.”
“I know.” Tony nodded, squeezing her hand.
She stayed for another drink and then headed home. She had checked in with Sam before heading back to their apartment and she was settled on the couch with a glass of wine when Steve called.
“Hey Soldier.” she said, smiling at the screen as she flicked the phone to project the image in front of her, muting the TV.
“Hey Darlin’.” He smiled back
“So, how was it?” she asked
“Well we got the intel.” 
“Solid?”
“Pretty solid yeah.” Natasha spoke, appearing by his side. “We think we know who he is anyway.” “Who?”
Steve sighed. “It’s Rumlow.” “What?” Katie spluttered into her wine glass. “Are you sure?”
“Oh pretty sure.” Steve nodded. “He left me a clear message.”
“Steve recognised him on the Video so I ran a crosscheck.” Nat picked up. “Turns out he was listed as severely injured and was taken to the hospital. After that, our trail runs cold.” 
“Until now.” Katie sighed.
“We’ve also got a list of his associates, some known faces he’s been seen with.” Steve shrugged “So we’re putting out an alert.”
“Doesn’t give us much to go on though.” Katie rubbed at her temples.
“When have we ever had much to go on?” Natasha asked and Katie shrugged
“Fair point.” she conceded as Natasha moved off out of sight.
“So how has your day been?” Katie looked back at Steve as he spoke.
“Not bad actually.” she said, “Interviews went well, oh, and we had a bit of an incident at base before.” “Incident?” he frowned, “What kind of incident?”
“Attempted break in, nothing major.”
“Everyone ok?”
“Yeah, honestly it was no big deal, I’ll fill you in on when you get home. For the rest of the day once the interviews were done Tony and I drank beer.”
“Sounds pretty productive.” Steve raised an eyebrow, smile playing on his lips.
“Beer is always productive.” Katie informed him and he chuckled.
“We’ll be airborne in thirty minutes and then we should be home in about four hours.” He said, as Katie looked at her watch. It was almost 8:30 pm. 
“Alright, I’ll see you soon.”
“Love you.”
“And you.” She blew him a kiss and cut the call with a yawn. She was tired. Really tired, so she headed off for a bath. After soaking and listening to music for forty minutes she dried off and shoved on one of Steve’s T-shirts before climbing into bed and laying there for a moment, flicking through the TV channels. She settled on an episode of Family Guy and snuggled down into the large bed, wrapping herself in the soft covers. It always felt odd sleeping without Steve being there. Sometimes she quite enjoyed being able to starfish in the middle of the Emperor sized bed but tonight she wasn’t enjoying being alone.
****
Steve was whacked when they arrived home. Bidding good night to Natasha, instead of changing in the armoury he headed straight back and let himself into their quarters. Crossing the hallway he made his way into the bedroom he paused, a gentle smile spreading on his face. Illuminated in the light from the hallway he could see Katie was curled up in the middle of the bed, using his pillow as a hugging buddy. He quietly crossed the room and perched on the bed, stripping off his boots and uniform top. He paused slightly as Katie stirred and he turned to look at her, gently brushing her hair of her face. He glanced down at the freckles he knew by memory, long thick lashes, soft pink lips, that familiar Stark nose…she looked so peaceful asleep.
She stirred again, and that nose he adored wrinkled in the way it did when she was waking up and she cracked an eye open before her face split into a smile at the sight of her husband.
“Hey.”
“Hey, baby girl.” He smiled, his hand cupping her cheek. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you”
“It’s Okay.” She yawned, leaning into his touch.
“Did I tell you how beautiful you are?” He asked, and through the tiny sliver of light coming from the hallway Katie could see his eyes were full of their usual warmth.
“I don’t think you did today, no.”
“Well in that case, you’re beautiful” He smiled and she chuckled slightly as he dropped a soft kiss on her head. “I’m gonna take a shower and then I’ll be right with you.”
She watched him appreciatively as he stood up and pulled his compression-shirt over his head, leaving him bare form the waist up as he headed into the en-suite. For a moment she was tempted to join him, but then decided against it, laying back onto her side, dozing.
It wasn’t long before the bed dipped and she felt him slide under the covers next to her. She turned over to snuggle up into the crook of his shoulder, her head laying on his chest.
“So, you wanna tell what the incident was today?” he asked, his right hand reaching up to play with the strands of her hair that fell over her shoulder.
“Oh yeah.” she grinned before she launched into an explanation about Scott-slash-Ant Man. He fell silent for a moment but in the end came to the same conclusion as Tony had, there was nothing in there that was dangerous so they just needed to remain vigilant.
“Yeah, well Sam seemed to be taking vigilant to the extreme as he’s already been on the phone to numerous contracts, trying to track him down.” she said “I think he’s a bit annoyed the guy basically kicked his ass. Rhodey caught it all on video but Sam told me never to tell you about it. He’s taken it quite personally.” “I’m not surprised, he had his ass kicked.” Steve sniggered. “Where do I get a copy of the CCTV?”
Katie grinned, “I have it on my phone, Rhodey sent it to me.”
“Play it.” he instructed.
“What now?” “Yes, right now.” he nodded, moving so he was sat up, jolting her off his chest.
“No Sam will kill me!” she laughed, propping herself up on her elbow
“Screw Sam!” he snorted “He plays those damned Phys Ed videos every chance he gets.”
“That’s true.” Katie pondered “Ok, hang on…”
She turned, reaching over for the phone and the TV remote. Blinking at the sudden light, once her eyes were accustomed to the change she pressed a few buttons on her phone and beamed the footage to the TV on the wall. She had to admit, it looked even funnier from the video play back than it had when she had been there.
Steve let out a huge, genuine laugh, his head thrown back, banging against the headboard, arm clutched across his chest as he laughed, and laughed.
“I’m so showing that at our next briefing.” he said, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.
“You can’t…” “Oh, I can!”
****
The next morning the pair of them made their way to the briefing room both munching on a piece of toast and each carrying a mug of coffee. It was early, before 8, but Steve wanted the team to be prepared. Everyone filed into the room along with some good humoured grumbling about the time before they dropped into their preferred seats and looked to the front of the room.
“I know it’s early and I’m sorry…” Steve held his hands up, looking round at the team assembled in front of him “But this is important.”
“More important than sleep?” Sam yawned.
Steve ignored him. “Alright, here’s what we already know.”  Steve began to explain how they believed Rumlow to be Crossbones, the masked man who had been causing a whole lot of chaos in the wake of what happened at the Triskelion. Katie knew he was annoyed at himself for not realising he had survived sooner, but even if they had, they’d so much going on, not to mention Ultron had been a much bigger threat in the immediate future
"He’s been targeting former SHIELD labs and police stations all over the country and selling products on the black market.” Natasha spoke.
“Police stations?” Katie asked.
“We think he suffered heavy losses at the raid prior to the last three, so he’s going for easier targets whilst he regroups.” Natasha answered.
“Still no intel on who his buyers are?” Wanda asked.
“No.” Steve shook his head, “He seems to have become an independent terrorist, and doesn’t appear to be working for anyone”
“Our recon yesterday told us that Rumlow seems to be operating with this guy.” Natasha explained as the photos flashed up “He’s known as the Black Mamba…” “Black Mamba?” Wanda deadpanned. “Cross Bones and Black Mamba?”
“NATO has every available pair of eyes out looking for them.”  Steve ignored Wanda and looked at Rhodey.
“Soon as they break cover, we’ll know.” Rhodey nodded
“So then what?” Sam frowned
“More recon?” Katie asked
Steve looked at his wife and nodded. “Possibly, but for now we need to let intelligence do their job. But be prepared, when we get a lead I want to be ready to go.”
There were mumbles around the room and Steve let the team lead the discussion. Sam commented on the crap code names again, causing Wanda to laugh. Katie suggested they should compile a detailed profile on Rumlow, see if they could find a pattern to his behaviour, nodding to Vision. the AI had a knack for it as did Katie, so Steve and Natasha nodded, both agreeing it was a good idea.
“We need to be vigilant.” Steve instructed. “Keep our eyes open for anything that’s out of the ordinary.” He caught Katie’s eye, a wicked smirk crossed his face and she shook her head smiling as he continued “Speaking of which…FRIDAY, play the video”
“Certainly Captain Rogers.” The pictures of Rumlow and Black Mamba disappeared from the screen and suddenly the footage of Sam spiralling through the air started to play. The room started to snigger as Sam looked at Katie who held her hands up in an “it wasn’t me!” gesture.
“Oh come on Man!” He groaned as the room gleefully watched the film, laughter ringing round the room.
******
The next four months ticked by with no further information on Rumlow. They pulled together a potted history which tracked the hospital he had been in, when he had escaped (the local authorities had been searching for him for ages since he threatened his nurse upon waking before violently breaking out) his movements since (ones they knew about and some they hadn’t) but it didn’t give them anything new.
Katie and Tony were buried deeply in their Foundation work, which was taking up a lot of Katie’s time so she wasn’t as close to the investigations as she could have been. Steve was fine with that though, the further away she was from Rumlow frankly the better, but he still made sure she was involved with what they had found and she attended the briefings as best she could when she wasn’t travelling the country. Steve’s chest burst with pride every time he saw his girl on the news, in papers, as the press seemed to be lavishing praise upon the siblings for what they were doing. 
Then, one day in the middle of May, they struck gold when one of the Facial Recognition Alerts they had set up pinged to Black Mamba being spotted in a Lagos, Nigeria. As a result Steve had scrambled them all to attention as soon as he could, which was four am. But there were no complaints about the time, not when they knew this could be their chance to bring him in. They all pitched round the screen as Steve and Natasha identified the local police station that they suspected of him hitting, given where the FR had pinged several times.
“We think they are scoping this area.” Nat said, drawing a red circle round a part of the town.
Katie moved the screen with her fingers, enlarging the aerial shots as she looked at them, her analytical brain going ten to the dozen.
“Layout looks pretty standard.” she said, scanning the map, frowning slightly. Something was nagging at her. And as she looked, she realised what it was.
“What is it?” Steve asked, recognising the tone of her voice and frown on her face.
“The Science Institute.” She nodded towards the screen. “Big white building at the end of the road.”
“Biological weapons are big on the black market.” Sam cottoned on, nodding slightly.
“Yeah but his recent previous hits and our pattern analysis don’t give us any reason to believe that’s what he’s going to be aiming for.” Nat suggested
“You said yourself that you suspected he was going for easier targets whilst he regrouped.” Katie bit her lip. “What if he has?”
“We have to assume Rumlow will go for the police station, it’s the best intel we have.” Steve looked at her and he noticed the expression on Katie’s face as she crossed her arms and opened her mouth to argue. “But we should be vigilant, keep alert.”
She exchanged a glance with Sam, who simply shrugged
“We do this with stealth.” Steve continued, “I want us on the ground and out of sight, we need to catch him with as little fuss or danger to civilians as possible”
"Yeah, and with that in mind Viz you may need to sit this one out.” Nat tossed out and Vision nodded deprecatingly
“We’re still working on him blending in.” Wanda added.
“Same for you too Rhodey.” Steve looked at him “We need someone back here, we could be gone a few days.”
Rhodey nodded. “No problem Cap.” “Get what you need. Wheels up in twenty.” Steve dismissed everyone who immediately went their separate ways to prepare for the upcoming mission leaving Katie, Natasha and Steve alone
“You think she’s ready?” Natasha looked at Steve, nodding to Wanda. He took a deep breath, staring at the door through which she had just left with Vision.
“You say she’s been training hard.” He spoke after a moments pause, looking at Nat.
“Yeah, she has but her powers are still largely impacted by her emotions.”
“Aren’t everyone’s?” Katie asked. “I mean I’m angry or upset I fight harder, as you know.” “Yeah but,” Nat sighed “It isn’t the same, she can do a lot of damage.”
“We have the bare bones of a team as it is.” Steve shook his head and Katie looked down, feeling slightly guilty. She had discussed this with Steve, she wasn’t going. The Stark Foundation Tour had another few visits to Universities this week. Steve spotted the look on her face and he gently nudged her arm “That’s not a criticism honey…” “I know…” she bit her lip. Maybe she should postpone…
“Throw in the fact that this is the first full team mission we’ve had since Ultron and I don’t see any choice but to take Wanda” Steve shrugged, ending the conversation.
Nat took a deep breath and nodded “You’re right. And maybe being in an actual mission environment might help her gain some control, I mean practice makes perfect.”
“You trying to convince me or yourself?” he asked, eyeing her
“Both.” she drawled, heading out of the door.
Katie took a deep breath as Steve turned to her. “You best go.” she smiled softly. Steve bit his lip before he pulled her into an embrace, kissing her softly.
“I’ll call as soon as I can.” He promised, pressing his forehead to hers.
“Stay safe, please.” She whispered as he kissed the tip of her nose and hurried out of the door.
Once he was gone, Katie sank onto a chair, her head in her hands. She was torn, really torn. For the last year or so, post Ultron, they’d had a pretty quiet time of it, mopping up any stray Hydra operatives that strolled into their patch. But this, this was big. Was the Foundation really more important than putting a halt to whatever shitty plan Rumlow was trying to pull off? She was still an Avenger after all, she’d never quit that, and would never quit that.
She’d always be Supernova, whether she wanted to be or not.
“I’m gonna regret this.” She groaned to herself as she jumped up, and headed after the rest of the team.
*****
Steve, at first, had tried to argue against her coming but when Natasha had pointed out they could do with the support he had relented and the team had been bolstered by Supernova’s return to active duty.
Their support staff had done a great job on such a short time, and rented the group a four bedroomed apartment overlooking the street the Police Station was on. It wasn’t fancy, but it was the last place anyone would think would house Avengers. They spent their first day setting up a command centre, with coms links back to base and the next morning they began their recon.
The first two days were completely uneventful. No sign of Rumlow or any of his associates. Nat was the expert at covert ops and so she took the lead, directing them to all the right places coaching Wanda along the way and Steve was pleasantly surprised to see how well the younger girl took to the task, blending in with the locals. Katie took to observing from up high with Sam, her attention on the Biological Institute, unable to shake the nagging feeling she had about the place. She hadn’t mentioned it since their brief a few days ago, but Steve knew when she had an idea in her head she wouldn’t rest so he left her to it. Between them they had the area covered, which was good enough.
On the evening of the fourth day Wanda, Sam and Natasha headed out for a little undercover work in the bars at night, “So you guys can have a little undercover activity of your own” Sam teasingly stated, patting Steve on the back as he left, drawing an exasperated sigh from the Soldier. Nevertheless, the door had hardly clicked shut before Steve had his wife pinned up against a wall, hands wandering all over her body, lips and teeth clashing, her hand fisting in the slightly longer strands of hair at the top of his head as they’d furiously taken advantage of their first time alone in days.
The next morning Katie woke at about five-forty-five am and rolled over only to find the bed empty besides her. Steve could never rest when they were in the middle of a case like this. The clothes they had shed and left scattered all over the floor the night before were now folded and placed on top of the dresser, and she had to smile. Even now he was a total neat freak. Knowing full well where he would be she climbed out of the bed, pulled on Steve’s T-shirt and a pair of shorts before making her way into the dark corridor. She stopped in the doorway of the small dining room which was functioning as a makeshift office and sure enough, there he was, the lamp softly illuminated his handsome face as he flicked through a file, crease evident between his brows.
“Soldier, you’re up so early.” She said gently. Steve had heard her coming of course. Smiling softly, as he was always pleased to see her, he turned to face her as she crossed the room.
“Yeah, sorry, I woke about half an hour ago and couldn’t get back to sleep.”
“You know, I get that you’re fed up of just waiting but sitting here re-reading all this isn’t going to help you know.” Katie sighed, taking the file off him and dropping it onto the wooden table, before she perched on the edge.
“I know, it’s just so goddamned frustrating.” Steve ran his hand over his face. After pondering for a moment Katie stood up and walked behind the chair and placed her hands on his shoulders. He let out a groan of satisfaction and leaned back in his seat as she kneaded the muscles with her hands. She found a particularly bad spot just under his shoulder blade and began to push harder with her thumb. Steve, unable to decide if it was pleasurable or painful, made a little noise which was half way between the two.
“God your shoulders are so knotty.” Katie mused and he left out a breath through his nose moving his head to the side.
“Yeah well, I did a lot of exercise last night.” He quipped back as her hands continued to work at his shoulders.
“I’ll say.” She grinned. “You know that thing you did with your mouth is actually illegal in several countries.” “Good job we live in the land of the free.” His voice was low as he fully relaxed under her touch.  Katie carried on working at his muscles in silence for a moment, happy to let him bliss out. 
“So… answer me a question?” She spoke after a short while, rousing him a little, and he hummed, unable to bring himself to be bothered to talk.
“If you couldn’t sleep why didn’t you wake me to help you?” Her voice was loaded as she leaned forward to wind her arms around his neck, running her hands up and down his chest from behind. Steve loved it when she touched him like that which was why he pouted slightly when she pulled away, but the pout didn’t last long and a smirk crossed his face as Katie walked round to the front of his chair
“And how, exactly, would you have done that?” His hands moved to rest on her hips as she lowered herself so that she was straddling him. She slid one of her hands around the back of his head to tangle in his hair the other settling on his chest.
“Reckon I can think of a few ways.”  She smirked slyly before using her hand in his hair to pull him forward and connect their lips. Steve kissed her back immediately as one hand crept up the back of her top, the other on the side of her thigh, sliding up her shorts.
“Sleepy yet?” She murmured.
“Not exactly the word I would use.” Steve raised an eyebrow.
She grinned and then began to rock her hips on top of him grinding down on his growing hardness and he sighed slightly, kissing her harder as she pushed down again. With an automatic reaction he raised his hips, rocking up to meet her and this time she groaned as she could feel the friction of their clothes grinding against her clit. His hands were now firmly holding her hips underneath her, no, his top, and he sat forward so his mouth could cover the spot under her ear that drove her wild. With a soft sigh she titled her head to the side as he trailed kisses across her jaw until his mouth met her lips again. His hands reached down to grasp the hem of her top and he had just begun to slide it upwards when they were interrupted by a raspy voice.
“I thought all the making out fully clothed supposedly stopped when you reached the age of seventeen.” Natasha scoffed from the doorway. Katie looked up over Steve’s shoulder as he sighed, dropping his head onto her chest, letting out a groan of frustration.
“Don’t you know how to knock?” Katie sighed.
“Don’t you know how to lock a door?” She retorted, dryly.
“I take it this isn’t a social call?” Steve’s voice was muffled as he spoke into his wife’s chest, not bothering to move his head. Katie chuckled a little, her hand running through his hair.
“Half and half.” Natasha arched an eyebrow, “Unsociable hour it maybe but Wanda’s already up and wants breakfast, she was going to head out to the local bakery but I thought it might be an idea to start the re-con early.”
Steve’s head looked up to Katie’s as she shifted off his lap and straightened out her clothing and hair. Steve glanced down at his crotch and Katie raised an eyebrow slightly as he stood up and adjusted his sweats in an attempt to hide his slowly ebbing arousal before he turned to face the red head.
“Well, you’re the expert in this covert stuff.” He raised his brow. “What have you got in mind?”
*****
“All right, what do you see?” Steve was coaxing Wanda, as ever, to observe her surroundings, see and hear everything, on the job training he supposed you could call it.
Meanwhile, Katie glanced down from the rooftop on which Sam and her were currently stood, her scanners doing their usual work. No weapons spotted yet.
“Standard beat cops. Small station. Quiet street. It’s a good target” Wanda’s voice came through the ear piece Steve was wearing.
“There’s an ATM in the South Corner.” he replied “which means….”
“Cameras” Wanda said instantly.
“Both cross streets are one way.” He carried on
“So, compromised escape routes.”
“Means our guy doesn’t care about being seen, he isn’t afraid to make a mess on the way out.” Steve concluded. “You see that Range Rover halfway up the block?”
“Yeah, the red one? It’s cute”
“It’s also bulletproof,” Katie cut in as FRIDAY completed a scan on the vehicle “Which means private security…”
“Which means more guns, which means more headaches for somebody. Probably us” Nat finished
“You guys know I can move things with my mind, right? “ Wanda replied
“Looking over your shoulder needs to become second nature.” Natasha continued
“Anybody ever tell you you’re a little paranoid?” Sam asked and Katie turned to look at him, retracting her face plate to give him a grin.
“Not to my face. Why? Did you hear something?” the exchange continued.
“Eyes on target, folks” Steve spoke firmly with an air of authority, bringing them back to the job in hand. “This is the best lead we’ve had on Rumlow in six months. I don’t want to lose him.”
“If he sees us coming that won’t be a problem. He kind of hates us.” Sam replied
As Steve watched he noticed that a garbage truck was slowly pushing its way through traffic, with no regard to pedestrians or other vehicles. He frowned and kept his eyes on it as it continued to gather momentum as it went.  
“Sam, Katie…see that garbage truck? Tag it.”
Sam’s small drone launched, swooping down to scan the vehicle as Katie instructed FRIDAY to do the same.
“Give me X-ray.” Sam spoke. There was a pause before he gave a little moan. “That truck’s loaded for max weight.”
“And the driver’s armed.” Katie concluded.
And in that second it dawned on Steve that his wife had been right all along. The Institute was the target after all.
“It’s a battering ram.” Katie’s voice mumbled on the coms, clearly having realised the same thing he had, and with that Steve turned from the window, running for the door.
“Go, now!” He yelled into his coms as he sprinted down the stairs. “There not hitting the station…” “The institute…” Sam spoke as Steve burst onto the street looking up in time to see Falcon and Supernova spiralling into the air.
And once more the fight was on.
**** Chapter 29 Part 1
**Original Posting**
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headfulloffantasies · 3 years
Text
Mandalorian Rest Stop
Ao3
Din interacts with the Jedi children at Luke’s Jedi Academy.
My Kofi
Din’s ship sat just beyond the lush green gardens of Luke Skywalker’s Jedi Academy. At the hottest part of the day, all the students were inside the domed building working on their mystic arts or whatever. Din bent under the wing of his ship, trying to get at the stubborn panel in need of realignment.
“Dank Farrec,” Din cursed the rivet that refused to budge.
“Dank Farrec,” a small squeaky voice answered. Din straightened up so fast he slammed his helmet on the panel above him. He spun around. A small sticky child stared back at him.
“Dank Farrec,” the child repeated. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing,” Din said quickly. “It’s a bad word. Don’t say it.”
“Dank Farrec,” the child giggled.
“Where is your handler?” Din looked around. The Jedi Academy didn’t keep as close eye on its youngsters as Din’s Covert had, but he was pretty sure all the kids were supposed to be training. Hence why Din was fighting with rusty rivets on his ship instead of spending time with Grogu.
The child plopped down in the dirt and started playing with a leaf like they had no intention of moving any time soon.
Din crouched next to them. “Shouldn’t you be somewhere?”
The kid did not answer. They had dirt smeared over their rosy cheeks and something blue staining their hands. Din made no assumption about age, considering his own child had been alive longer than him. But if he had to guess, he supposed the little one was four or five.
“If I pick you up, will you scream?” Din asked.
The child responded by lifting their arms and making grabby hands.
Din scooped the child into his arms. They immediately stuck their dirty fingers to his chest plate, leaving blue smears behind. The child laughed at their own reflection in the armour.
Din heaved a sigh. “Okay, let’s give you back to the Jedi now.”
“I’m a Jedi,” the child informed Din.
“I’m a Mandalorian,” he answered.
The child nodded, completely sombre.
Din walked into the main learning building of the Jedi Academy. In the common room, Luke had a group of children practicing levitating blocks of wood.
“This one is yours,” Din dropped the child at Luke’s feet. They reached back for Din with sticky, grabby hands.
“There you are, Lana,” Luke smiled. “Did you have fun with the nice Mandalorian?”
Lana looked up into Luke’s face. “Dank Farrec!”
Luke’s expression turned brittle. Din buried his head in his hands.
“I didn’t do it,” Din said into the dark of his gloves. He lifted his head.
Luke bent to speak to Lana. “That’s not a nice phrase, honey. Let’s try something more polite, okay?”
Lana nodded, all sweetness and sugar again.
Din turned to leave. Something whizzed past his face and struck the back of his helmet. Din stumbled, caught off balance. He whipped around, hand on his blaster.
The wooden blocks the kids were lifting dropped, except for the one still circling Din’s head.
All of the kids laughed while a single boy’s eyes widened in fear. The block hit the ground. “I’m sorry,” he stammered. Din remembered his name was Holden.
Luke glanced between Din and Holden.
Din let out a shaky breath. “It’s alright. Don’t do it again.”
Holden nodded so hard Din thought he might hurt himself. Din waved good-bye to Luke and went back to fixing his ship.
Luke invited Din to join Grogu and the other students for an evening meal around a campfire on the lawn. Din declined, until Luke informed him Grogu was throwing a tantrum at not having his father’s attendance.
Din lifted his head to the stars and wondered what he’d done to deserve this. Actually, no, he deserved a lot worse for his actions. He could sit through a meal with some kids.
Din took it back after five minutes around the campfire. He’d rather face a mudhorn again than spend mealtimes around children. They shrieked and screamed every time the fire crackled. They held their cooking sticks over the fire and dropped more into the flames than they managed to eat. Lana somehow got condiments in her hair.
Din picked up Grogu. “Don’t be friends with her, okay? You already have too many bad habits.”
Grogu blinked at him and made bubbles. Prime example.
Din settled Grogu on his lap with a plate of some kind of sausage. He passed bite sized chunks of meat to his kid.
Luke came out of the dark and sat next to Din. “Not so bad, is it?”
Din made a non-committed grunt.
Holden, one of the older students, came bouncing over to Luke. “Will you tell us a campfire story?”
Luke laughed. “You’ve already heard all my stories.”
“Tell us about the Death Star,” a dark-haired kid named Ryan piped up. The other children shouted their dissent or agreement in equal measure.
“What about the Mandalorian?” A voice rose about the rest. “Tell us a story Mando!”
Din stiffened. The kids all quieted, settling to watch him with rapt hope. Even Luke turned to him with expectation.
Din shuffled Grogu in his lap. “I don’t know any campfire stories.”
“You must know some stories,” Luke suggested. “A Mandalorian story?”
“Only the story of the Mythosaur,” Din said. The kids waited in a hush. Din sighed. In a stilted tone he told them the myth of how the first Mandalorians tamed the great creatures and used them to defeat their enemies. He arrived at the end of the tale to complete silence. Din flushed under his helmet.
“I’m not much of a storyteller,” he admitted.
“Tell us another!” Ryan demanded. He waved a cup of blue bantha milk and spilled half of it on the ground. “Tell us a bounty hunting story.”
Din looked to Luke for permission. The Jedi smiled his encouragement.
Din racked his brains. “One time,” he started. “I hunted a man to the edges of the Great Green Swamp.” Din let the tale unfold off his tongue. He outlined the perilous trek through the treacherous marshes, the harrowing escapes from the various wild beasts, and the shootout once Din finally found his man.
He paused there. Din realised telling the children that he’d killed the man probably was not a good idea. The kids all stared at Din. They looked ready to leap out of their seats.
“What happened to him?” Lana’s huge eyes bored into Din’s visor.
Din closed his mouth and swallowed hard. “He lived a very happy life,” Din squeaked. “He did not fall into any swamp pits or drown at all.”
“Right,” Luke clapped his hands together. “Dessert and then bed.”
Din took Grogu back to the ship for the night. In the quiet of their berth, Din removed his helmet. “No more campfires, okay?”
Grogu only snuggled into Din’s neck and let out a snore. Din decided that was a yes.
Din woke to a scuffling noise. His eyes snapped open. Grogu sat up on Dins’ chest, making cooing noises at the door. Din turned his head. The sounds got closer. He reached for his helmet.
The door whooshed open. Din slammed the helmet over his face.
Three tiny faces screamed. Grogu screamed back.
Din jumped out of bed. The kids scrambled backwards. He recognised Holden, Ryan, and the newest student, Trystan.
“Sorry! We didn’t mean to-,” Holden started.
“Is this where Grogu sleeps?” Ryan demanded. Trystan cowered behind Holden’s back.
Din stared at the intruders. He was very aware he was wearing only his flight suit and all his armour and weapons sat stacked across the room. His feet were bare.
“What are you doing here?” He finally managed to ask.
Ryan screwed up his face. “Do you sleep wearing that?” He pointed at Din’s helmet.
“I asked you a question,” Din snapped.
Ryan had enough wherewithal to drop his gaze. He scuffed a boot on the floor. “We wanted to see Grogu.”
Grogu babbled from the bed at the sound of his name. Din put one hand on his tiny head without looking away from the boys.
“How did you get on the ship? I locked the doors.”
Holden and Ryan exchanged a look. “We used the Force.”
Din’s brain became a screen of static. He really hated the Force some days.
“Don’t ever do that again,” he said.
The boys nodded. “I’m sorry,” Holden said again.  
Din sighed. “Does Luke- Master Skywalker know you’re here?”
All three boys shook their heads and wouldn’t look at Din.
“Go tell him what you’ve been up to,” Din pointed towards the ship’s ramp. The boys scampered away.
Din closed the door behind them.
Grogu whined. Din looked down at him. “What are the chances there’s such a thing as Force proof locks?”
 Luke planned an expedition to the top of a mountain as a Jedi exercise. Din approved wholeheartedly that most of the kids had too much energy and needed to run it out. He wished Luke luck.
Luke pressed his lips together. “I was asking if you would come with us. I would appreciate having someone with survival skills around in case we run into trouble.”
Din sighed in the privacy of his helmet. “I am not carrying anyone up a mountain. Least of all you,” he said.
Luke grinned. “Did I ever tell you about my Master Yoda?”
They made it to the top of the mountain with only mild complaining from the Jedi students. For this exercise Luke decided only to bring his oldest students. Tami, Holden, and Jameson trekked after their Master with Din bringing up the rear.
Tami tended to bolt off the path after whatever caught her eye. Jameson was easy to keep track of because of his bright red hair. Holden stayed as far as he could get from Din for the entire trip.
When they reached the peak, Luke decided they all needed to meditate. Each kid went off a little way and chose a spot to sit quietly. Din did a quick perimeter check to stave off the boredom. He came back through the trees and noticed Jameson had chosen to sit at the very edge of the mountain’s sheer drop.
“We’re getting awfully close to the edge here,” Din said as he came up behind Jameson.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Jameson answered.
A rumbled echoed up from the ground. Jameson snapped wide eyes to Din.
The ground buckled under Din’s boots. Din had a split second to act. He snatched up the kid and tossed him hard. Jameson hit solid ground just as the edge of the cliff gave.
Din fell. He tumbled end over end.
He activated his grappling line. The grapple caught on the cliffside. The jolt at the end of the rope nearly pulled Din’s arm from its socket. Din swung hard back towards the rockface. Din slammed into the rock. Something in his shoulder popped. Din couldn’t bite back the shout of pain. Lightning raced from his shoulder to his fingertips. Din ground his teeth past the nauseating pain. He hung suspended by his ruined arm over the thirty-foot drop. Din forced himself to take several deep breaths.
Din reached for the cliffside with his good arm. Every little movement sent another shock of agony through his shoulder. Din managed to cling to the rockface. He scrambled and found a footing. The sheer relief of taking the pressure off his shoulder almost made Din sob.
He looked up. The crumbled edge of the cliff seemed miles away. How on earth he was going to climb up there with only one arm, Din didn’t know.
A sound caught in Din’s ears. He looked down. Luke scrambled at the bottom of the cliff. Din wondered how he got down there so fast without breaking his neck.
Luke waved his arms and shouted. Din couldn’t understand him.
Luke closed his eyes and lifted his hands. Something pulled at Din’s grip on the cliffside. Din panicked and clutched harder. The energy tugged at him gently.
“Don’t!” Din shouted.
Luke either didn’t hear him or ignored him. The Force pried Din from the cliffside. Din flailed in midair. He felt cradled in something firm as beskar, but so obviously insubstantial as a cloud. Din’s heart skipped at the sight of nothing but air between himself and the ground so far below. Slowly, Din descended down to Luke’s level. Luke released Din gently on his feet. Din swayed and almost collapsed.
Luke grabbed Din by his shoulders. Din groaned.
“You’re hurt,” Luke’s eyes widened. “I can help.”
“Don’t,” Din tried to push him away. “I can take care of it-.”
Luke unbuckled Din’s pauldron unfairly fast. Luke eased the shoulder armour off with surprising gentleness. He braced his hands over the dislocated joint.
Din reminded himself to breath.
Luke wrenched the shoulder back into the socket. Din swallowed his shout. The moment the pain passed, relief flooded Din’s veins. The awful strain in his muscles relaxed.
“Thank you,” Din said.
“You saved Jameson’s life,” Luke said quietly.
“You would have done the same,” Din answered.
Luke laughed. “I’d be a bloody streak on the cliffside if I’d tried that.” He surveyed Din with his earnest blue eyes. “The Force moves around you, Din Djarin.”
 Luke insisted Din join the students for dessert after dinner that night. Din arrived in the mess hall holding his injured arm in a sling. Grogu didn’t like it. Din’s heart twisted at the sight of his son trying to wiggle out of Luke’s grasp to heal Din.
Din reached over and pinched Grogu’s ear. “Eat your cake. I’m okay, ad’ika.”
“What does that mean?” Lana’s tiny face popped up next to Din’s knee. “Ad’ika. What does it mean?”
“It’s Mando’a for son or daughter,” Din explained.
Lana huffed in disappointment. Cleary she’d hoped for more swear words. She stomped away.
Luke’s eyes danced in the light from the lamps. “You’re very good with kids, Din.”
“Am not,” Din answered. He pointed to his son dribbling cake frosting on Luke’s cloak. “This one doesn’t listen to anything I say.”
Something crashed into Din’s back. Din twisted, wrenching his shoulder painfully. Stick thin arms wrapped around Din’s chest from behind. Jameson’s teary face came into focus leaning on Din’s armour.
“I’m so glad you’re not dead,” Jameson hiccupped. “When you went over the edge, I thought you died.”
Din carefully reached around to pat Jameson on his bright red hair. “I’m alright. So are you.”
Jameson nodded. He extricated himself from Din and wiped his running nose on his sleeve.
Din didn’t know what else to say. “Do you want some cake?”
He held out the slice Luke had politely put in front of him even knowing he wouldn’t eat it.
Jameson shook his head. He sniffed and then waved and rejoined the group of boys playing a game at the other table.
Din looked over at Luke to ask what on earth had just happened.
Luke gave him a smirk. “The kids like you.”
“I saved his life, he better like me,” Din grumbled half-hearted.
“You’ve become like a weird uncle to half these kids.”
Din blinked behind his visor. “I’m weird? They have magic mind powers!”
24 notes · View notes
koala-otter · 4 years
Text
gaang modern AU part ii
here’s part 2 to this modern AU I wrote 
this is coming a day later than I said it would, but in my defense it got really long, and now I simply can’t keep looking at it
I’m not sure if I want to write a part 3, but it’s been fun, so we’ll see!! 
anyways, have some toph beifong and gaang pool shenanigans and a couple of kisses and some light drinking
3.5k words
Suki understands what her friends have been trying to explain as soon as they roll into the driveway. 
“Oh,” she breathes, looking out the window. She turns around to look at Katara. “It’s a villa villa.”
An ancient, eight-foot high stone wall stretches in front of them, with a wide set of wood doors that open to reveal the structure they can already sort of see behind it. The Beifong summer home is a stunning example of old Earth Kingdom architecture, an elegant stone structure built around a courtyard on a raised platform. The house’s front holds a wide entryway decorated with enormous pillars, and between its bright colors and delicate construction, the house itself almost looks like a tiered cake. The central section of the building is four stories, and each of the upper floors is surrounded by a wraparound balcony with its own pillars, all pulling the viewer’s eye up to a roof of spotless, yellow, glazed ceramic tiles that shine under the blue of the cloudless sky. 
Everyone in the car takes a moment to gaze up at the edifice, this testament to the longevity of the Beifongs, their symbol of power and endurance. 
Except one. 
“Yep, it’s old as hell,” Sokka says, putting the car into park. He turns off the engine. “Wait until you see the movie theater inside, though. Now that’s something to look at.”
“Sokka,” Katara says disapprovingly.
They all pile out of the car and begin pulling their bags from the trunk when a voice rings out across the courtyard. 
“Look alive, knuckleheads!”
Toph comes barreling out of the entrance in a way that is only possible through years of familiarization, and she stops in the middle of the courtyard. 
“All right, you all have to come to me now,” she says, her arms outstretched.
“Toph!” Sokka cries excitedly. He rushes over to her and scoops her off the stone tiles and into a tight hug.
Toph sounds like she’s choking. “Keep me on the ground, dumbass,” she says, “so I can know where I am.”
He releases her, and her feet hit the ground with a slight thud. She keeps a tight hold on his arm. 
“Thank God you’re all here,” Toph says. “My mom didn’t want me to be alone before you guys arrived, so she made Yu stay with me.” She rolls her eyes. “Let me tell you, it has not been fun.”
As if having heard his cue, Yu pops out of the house and starts after Toph. The older man, one of the most senior servants in the Beifong household, looks thoroughly exhausted as he approaches the group.
“Miss Toph,” he calls, “you left your balled melon untouched. If you leave it for too long, it’ll get warm!”
Katara and Aang snicker behind their hands, but they stop abruptly when Toph’s face tilts threateningly toward them. 
Toph ignores Yu’s statement once she hears him stand next to her. “Yu, my friends are here,” she says, shaking Sokka’s arm almost in demonstration. “You can go now.”
“But, Miss Toph, I’m sure your mother—”
Toph sighs loudly to cut him off. “Did you buy the groceries?”
“Why, yes, of course,” Yu replies hurriedly.
“And the rooms are ready?”
“Yes.”
“And the pool’s open?”
Aang feels Katara perk up next to him as she waits for the answer.
“Yes,” Yu says again, and Aang can’t help smiling when he hears a hiss of excitement leave Katara.
“And the bar’s stocked?”
“Of course,” Yu says, now with a slight roll of his eyes.
“And my friends are here,” Toph says with a sweeping motion of her arm. No one tells her she’s just gestured toward a bush. “Now if I remember right, this is the part where you go.”
Yu bows to the group. “You’re right, Miss Toph,” he says. “I hope you all have a wonderful stay here.” 
He turns to go back into the house, but pauses to face them once more with a grimace. “Please don’t break anything this time,” he adds before he goes, too full of worry for his words to have been an afterthought.
“He’s so dramatic,” Toph says with a wave of her hand once he’s gone. “It was just a Quartz Dynasty vase.”
“Right,” Sokka says sheepishly, exchanging a furtive look with Zuko, who’s suddenly taken great interest in the Beifongs’ landscaping.
“All right,” Toph says, tugging Sokka’s arm. “Let’s go to the pool before Katara loses her mind.”
“Really?” Katara cries excitedly, already stepping in line with them.
“It was cleaned this morning just for you, Sweetness.”
Zuko stops them. “Hold on, I think Suki’s still taking it in,” he says in an amused tone.
Suki snaps her head back down and grins self-consciously. “I was looking at the little people,” she says in a high-pitched explanation, pointing to a small, ceramic procession of a dragon, a camelephant, and a winged boar on the eaves of the roof. She grabs her bag and follows them.
They walk clear through the first floor to reveal that the house stands on the crest of a hill, the rest of which tumbles before them as a garden full of sprawling lawns and blooming peony bushes and trees thick with pink and white blossoms. Before the drop of the hill, overlooking the lush green landscape, is the swimming pool full of crystal clear water. As soon as it comes into sight, Katara drops her bag and pulls her shirt off to reveal she already has her swimsuit on underneath, a simple white bikini. 
“Last one in’s a rotten egg!” she calls, kicking off her shorts, and before anyone can say anything else, she’s crossed the grass and the sandstone patio and dived into the pool in one precise, fluid motion.
“That’s not fair, she already put her suit on,” Sokka says. He notices Aang suddenly dropping to his knees, rifling through his own bag and grabbing something before running toward the poolhouse. “And where are you going?”
“I don’t wanna be a rotten egg, Sokka!” Aang yells. The door slams behind him so he can pull on his orange trunks.
Once everyone’s changed and finally joined Katara in the pool, it turns out Toph is the rotten egg, because she refuses to join them in the water. 
“Come on, Toph,” Aang pleads once more.
“You know I don’t like swimming,” she says from the side.
“Won’t you just come to the shallow end? I’ll stay with you the whole time.” He holds his hand up in an oath even though he knows she can’t see it. “Promise.”
Toph considers him for a moment. 
“All right,” she finally says, holding out her hand for him to take. “But if you let me drown, I will murder you.”
Aang only laughs and helps her down, keeping a hold on her hand as they stand side by side in the water.
The wind whistles through the leaves of the garden’s trees and ruffles Suki’s chin-length hair. She plunges under the water.
“We should have a hawk-rooster fight,” she says when she resurfaces. She slicks her wet hair away from her face with her hands. 
“You’re right, Suki,” Sokka says brightly. He turns to Zuko and pats himself on the shoulder. “Zuko, hop on.”
Katara pauses mid-lap. “Are you kidding? That’s not a fair team.” She swims over to Zuko and pulls him by the arm. “Come on, Zuko, you’re helping me beat my brother.”
Zuko sighs as Katara clambers onto his shoulders. “Why does everything have to be a competition between you two?”
“You sound like Bato,” Sokka laughs. “Every game night he—”
“Sokka, quit talking and help me up,” Suki says from his back.
“Sorry, sorry, okay.” Sokka lifts her easily onto his shoulders and plants himself in front of Zuko. 
“Ready?” Zuko asks.
Sokka leans forward and places a quick kiss on Zuko’s lips. “Don’t get upset when we beat you,” he says with a smirk.
Zuko wears a small, dreamy smile as he replies, “I won’t.”
He feels a repeated, urgent patting on the top of his head. 
“He’s trying to distract you,” Katara hisses. “Focus! Do not lose this for us!”
Zuko rolls his eyes and falls into his stance, his hands clasped around Katara’s ankles. 
“One, two, three, go!” Sokka yells shrilly, and Suki and Katara fall into grappling.
Toph crosses her arms. “I think I’d be good at this game,” she says idly.
“Probably,” Aang replies, smiling when he sees Sokka narrowly avoid a foot to the eye— “Jesus, Suki, be careful!” he cries—and patting Toph on the shoulder. “You always beat me up on land.”
Toph snorts. “That’s nothing. Talk to me about how I pinned Sokka last week. Now that was fun.”
They keep watching the fight playing out in front of them, Suki and Katara’s hands intertwined, each trying to push the other off. Both yell at the young men beneath them to hold steady.
“Oh, shit,” Toph suddenly says. “I forgot to ask Yu to pick up ice before he left.”
Aang glances at her before looking back in time to see Suki nearly lose her balance. She recovers and jabs Katara in the shoulder. “I can go,” he offers. 
“You don’t have to,” Toph says.
“No, I will.”
With one more well-timed shove from Suki, Katara goes sailing off of Zuko’s shoulders and into the water in front of Aang and Toph with a loud splash.
Toph pulls herself closer to Aang. “A little warning for the blind girl next time!” she yells in the direction of the group.
Katara comes up laughing, trying desperately to push the hair out of her eyes. “Sorry, Toph,” she says.
“It’s really Suki’s fault,” Sokka points out before plunging under the water himself to let her off his shoulders.
“Wow, nice scapegoating,” Toph says dryly. “No wonder you guys broke up.”
Suki laughs. “Actually, I think it had more to do with the huge crush he had on his best friend,” she says, tilting her head in Zuko’s direction.
Zuko shrugs with an awkward smile. 
Sokka’s head and shoulders emerge from the water. He tugs on his wolftail to stop its dripping. “Are we playing again?” he asks.
“I’m out,” Zuko says. He swims toward the shallow end and hops out to sit on the side of the pool. “I don’t think I can take Katara yelling at me anymore.”
Katara narrows her eyes at him before turning to Aang. “Looks like I need a new teammate,” she says. “Do you want to play?”
 Aang smiles at her regretfully. “I would, but Toph just asked me to go pick up some ice.”
“In town?” Katara asks, wringing out her wet hair.
“Yup.”
“I’ll go with you,” she says brightly. She starts making her way toward the pool steps.
Aang’s lips spread into a goofy grin. “Okay,” he agrees. 
Katara towels off while Aang gets Sokka’s keys from Zuko and guides Toph up on the side of the pool next to him. As he rises from being bent over Toph and Zuko, laughing at something Zuko’s said, Katara cannot help staring at him. He’s been taller than her for a long time, so his stature is nothing new, but he’s filled out significantly in the past couple of years, and she does not often get the opportunity to see the evidence in full display. The broad planes of his chest and shoulders practically shine in the late afternoon sun, and the clean lines and ridges of his abdomen contract with his laughter, guiding her gaze further down to the angled cut of his hips, across which his shorts are slung low. 
Katara almost gasps when Aang addresses her. 
“Ready?” he asks, pulling a T-shirt over his head. 
It seems he hasn’t noticed her staring.
“Let’s go,” she replies in a rush, grabbing her sunglasses and following him back through the house and out to the car. 
The doors slam shut behind them, and Katara concerns herself with rolling all of the windows down so they can still feel the summer breeze. Aang checks his mirrors and starts out of the driveway when he notices what Katara’s wearing. 
“Uh, I’m pretty sure the ‘no shirt, no service’ rule still applies all the way out here,” he teases her as he guides the car back onto the winding, mountain road.
“It’s not like I’m not going to wear it at all,” Katara says defensively, though she’s smiling. She holds up her shirt in her hand. “I need to dry off first.” 
Aang glances at her from the road and realizes she means the bikini top, which is more or less still soaked through. If she put the shirt on now, it would only seep through and leave an obvious stain on the front. He turns resolutely to look back at the road, swallowing hard.
The last time he saw her in the white top, with just the two of them together, was on a road trip to Omashu to celebrate Zuko’s college graduation. On the last day before they reached the city, Katara insisted on going to see a little-known cave nearby with an underground spring, and that night, after several cupfuls of terrible Earth Kingdom grain alcohol, raised the idea of going to swim in it again, under the full moon. Aang was the only one who could be convinced to go with her. They ventured back into the cave with a flashlight and turned it off once they got to the pool at the bottom, the night quiet but for the occasional sound of droplets falling from the stalagmites. They stayed close to each other in the dark water, but it was Katara who wrapped herself around Aang, and after a while, pressed her chest to his, separated only by the fabric of her white top. She looked up at him with her half-lidded eyes and boozy blush and only hesitated briefly before kissing him under the silver light of the moon. 
Katara woke the next morning with a wicked hangover, and Aang drove the rest of the way to Omashu with Sokka sitting next to him, any hope of talking to Katara about their kiss drowned out by Sokka’s elaborate stories about another student in his department named Wing Fan. Neither mentioned what happened the night before, Aang wondering whether Katara even remembered it, and it never happened again, so they let it go. 
But Aang remembered it. And if he had asked, he would have known that Katara did, too. 
The winding road lets out to a stretch devoid of surrounding trees, and the glare of the early evening sun hits Aang right in the eyes. He pulls the sun visor down, but the light still shines through and makes him squint. 
“I should have brought sunglasses,” he said absentmindedly, vaguely holding up his hand to see the road.
“Here, have mine,” Katara pipes up, and takes them off to carefully place them on Aang’s face. She giggles at the sight. “They look perfect on you.”
Aang sneaks a grin at her, his gray eyes obscured by the bright blue flowered frames thrifted by Sokka for Katara’s birthday. “Thanks, I try.”
He keeps them on even when they drive into town and walk into the supermarket, Katara pulling her shirt back on on the way in. He refuses even to push them onto his head, looking at the signs above the aisles through the darkened lenses, insisting, “But, Katara, I still need them for the ride back.”
Katara only shakes her head in amusement and pulls him after her toward the frozen aisle.
“Oh, mangoes!” Aang cries, and he stops in the middle of the produce to admire the piles of fruit. “These are Gyatso’s favorite.”
“Should we get some?” Katara asks. “Or any other fruit? Or snacks for the house or something?”
“If you think so,” Aang says noncommittally. 
“What do you want?” she asks. She examines the assortment and wrinkles her nose when she notices the papaya. 
Aang shrugs. “Ah, you know me. I don’t really care what we eat.”
“Really?” Katara asks disbelievingly. “This from the vegetarian who tried to convince Sokka to participate in meatless Mondays.”
Aang laughs. “It was worth a shot.” He picks up a mango. “Besides, it worked on you.”
“Hey, I’m meatless everyday now because of you, and you better not forget it,” Katara says, poking a finger to his chest. 
Aang looks down at her hand, those goofy sunglasses still hiding his eyes, and then grins widely at her. “I won’t,” he says sincerely. 
“Good.” Katara swipes the mango from his hand and grabs one more before taking off again toward the frozen food aisle. 
They drive back to the house in no rush, the ice and the mangoes safely stowed in the backseat. They don’t talk but they don’t need to, the sound of the radio tangling with the air rushing by outside and through the windows. Katara smiles contentedly as she sits next to Aang, occasionally sneaking glances at him, at the veins of his forearm as he keeps his hand on the wheel, and at the angle of his jaw. Before they reach the house, she silently leans toward him and reaches for the back of his neck. His chin tilts up as her touch startles him, and he looks at her quickly out of the corner of his eye, but she feels him relax beneath her hand as soon she tucks the tag back into the collar of his shirt. Her fingertips brush lightly against the back of his neck before she brings her hand back to her lap, and she spies a small smile on his face as they pull back into the driveway of the home.
They’re both quiet, feeling content and a little contemplative, as they walk back through the house. 
“You made it!” Suki cries a little too loudly, standing next to Zuko at the outdoor bar on the right side of the pool patio. Her arms rise above her head, and she reveals a tall glass in her hand that’s now only a quarter full.
“So this is what you’ve been up to while we were gone?” Katara asks in an amused tone. 
“Not all of us,” Zuko says, exchanging a look with her. 
“Yeah, some of us were waiting for ice,” Toph chirps, abandoning Sokka at the pool’s edge to walk up to Zuko. “You promised me a frozen marg, Sparky, let’s go.”
Aang laughs and brings the ice over to Zuko, while Katara balances the mangoes on the countertop. 
Zuko pulls out a blender. “Do you want one, too?” he asks the pair. 
“I will have another,” Suki declares.
“You’ve been cut off,” he replies, only half-serious. He notices Katara eyeing the water again. “As you can see, I do have experience in poolside service,” he says, pointing out Sokka floating idly in the pool, an empty glass near the stone’s edge.
Katara smiles and touches his arm, kissing him quickly on the cheek. “You’re the best,” she says before tossing her clothes off again and jumping once more into the water.
“Katara!” they hear Sokka shriek.
Aang laughs and turns back to Zuko. “Need any help?” he asks enthusiastically.
“Not now that we have the ice,” Zuko replies. He looks at Aang curiously, but before he can say anything, Sokka stops splashing Katara to greet Aang.
“Hey, Aang! Nice glasses.”
Aang’s forgotten he’s wearing them; he blushes once his hand comes up to touch them. “They’re Katara’s,” he explains.
“Cute,” Suki comments before sucking once more on her straw.
Zuko chuckles. “Makes sense.”
Sokka rolls his eyes, and Katara splashes him in the face.
“Aang, are you coming?” she calls. 
“Yeah, just a second!” he calls back. 
He turns back to Zuko and misses the sight of Sokka picking Katara up and throwing her into the deep end.
“Go hang out with her,” Zuko says quietly to Aang, a light smile on his face. 
“Yeah,” Toph says, significantly louder, “go with Katara. And Zuko,” she says, slamming her hands on the countertop, “what is going on? I hear no blending.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Aang says, taking the sunglasses off and folding them carefully next to the mangoes.
“I may be blind, Twinkletoes, but I’m not an idiot,” Toph says, crossing her arms. 
“Toph sees things,” Suki says seriously from her perch on the bar counter. Her eyes widen as she faces the group. “Below-the-surface things.” 
“Thanks, Suki.” Toph grins mischievously.
Aang laughs good-naturedly. “You guys are crazy.” 
Zuko watches as the younger man throws off his shirt and walks toward the pool, only to stop dead at the edge. Katara emerges from below the water’s surface, smoothing her hair back into a thick curtain of waves falling behind her. The soft evening light creates shadows across her form that only soften her curves and make her skin look even smoother. She looks almost ethereal, like one of the benevolent spirits of the sea.
She notices Aang and looks up at him eagerly. “Are you coming in?”
“Uh, yeah, of course,” he replies, shaking himself out of his reverie and finally slipping into the water next to her. 
She grins in delight and holds his hand under the water. “I’ll race you to the bottom,” she challenges him. 
“You’re on,” Aang laughs, and the two disappear into the deep end.
Sokka turns around from retrieving his glass to find himself alone. “Where did they go?” he asks the trio at the bar. 
They ignore him. 
“Twinkletoes just did it again, didn’t he?” Toph snickers.
“Yep,” Zuko says, and he switches on the blender.
116 notes · View notes
pleom · 4 years
Text
i. hunger
A sound awoke you. It shouldn’t have—it was much too distant and far too quiet for you to have picked up on it. But the tension in the air left you hyperaware of every move and shuffle, too high-strung to fully give yourself to sleep. You lacked the energy to open your eyes and relied on your other senses to give you a clue. The sound slowly grew in clarity—plastic crinkles and the smacks of a dry mouth.
It was Jisung, sat against a wall with an empty bag of chips dangled over his tongue. He panted desperately, and licked at the pitiful amount of crumbs that dropped into his mouth. All around him were containers of already finished food. The last meal ate was a can of green beans, and it was Minho who shoved the last bits into his mouth while everyone slept. The room never smelled of rotten food, though, as everyone made sure to pick each package and cartridge clean. No one would dare leave behind a speck in their wake. Not while the whole room starved. 
“Jisung,” Mina warned. 
“Sorry,” and the plastic bag crumpled back down to the floor. Jisung groaned with his chest, arms twitching over his stomach. “I’m just so hungry; how long do we gotta wait?”
It seemed like everyone was awake, now. More feet dragged across the concrete, and every wrinkle seemed to have its own reverb. Life sprung back into being inside this cellar bunker of yours.
You felt it, too. An emptiness none too gentle. It rocked you in violent waves that left you heaving, but even so, you had to keep a steel grip. The rest of the cabin moaned with the same predicament. And deep inside all of them, even with the knowledge they beared, they wondered the same thing.
“Long enough,” Mina said, easily irked. She kicked a can to its side and nestled deeper into the wall. “We’ll survive, I promise. But only if you guys keep it down, alright? Ever heard of meditating?”
“Meditating is supposed to be done under ideal conditions,” Jisung fired.
“Not true,”
“Very true, what—”
The screeching of metal broke the beginnings of another argument before it began, signaling either the return of someone important or the arrival of someone disastrous. Heavy boots plodded down the concrete stairs leading to your bunker, a single bated breath shared among all its dwellers.
“Guys,” a familiar, somber voice echoed through the chamber, “it’s safe.”
It’s Chan. And he came back bloodier than before. But the stains on his clothings registered later than his words—
—“Really?!” You jumped from your seat, and immediately tumbled back down to your knees. The hunger sucked the energy out of your muscles, and left you with limbs that defied your every wish. 
Chan was by your side immediately, wrapping his hand around your rail-thin arm. “Yeah, and I brought food, so you all can relax.”
The room broke down in relief, sighs and cries falling from left and right. The grumbles from their stomach sounded louder than ever. 
Chan slunk a shredded sack from over his shoulder, opening it up to reveal piles of delicate products—peaches, Hawaiian rolls, jerky. Instantaneously, the whole room charged forward on their fragile hands and feet to grab a serving.
When everyone had their piece, they laid back against the wall with renewed vigor, sated and lively. The smell of copper, sugar, and meat wafted through the air. Chan downed a bottle of water and tossed it to the side.
“Now, we just need to wait for the sun to come up, and bear till the afternoon.”
ii. dew
Exiting the bunker cellar brought forth both revelatory and crushing realizations. A new smell met your nose, rancid, and it wasn’t from the thick mush of coagulated blood and torn flesh strewn across the lawn. It was the aftermath left stuck on the grass.
“Usually, after nights like that, the smell of the morning is supposed to be, you know, pleasant,” droned Jisung. “It feels like we woke up in hell.”
“Isn’t it?” Changbin quipped. “But, yeah, this isn’t how it was last time we were out.”
“Feels like climate change gave us its worst,” Sana took large steps to maneuver out of the way of the grass. When everyone gathered to the middle of the street, away from the festering puddles, it was time to consider your odds.
“At least we picked on a pattern,” you said, eyes following the ruptured cords from power-line to power-line. They had stopped sparking with life. “But are we sure this isn’t happening elsewhere? I mean, it’s acid rain. Pretty sure that isn’t location-locked.”
“Before the electricity cut off, I searched for news from everywhere. If psychotic raindrops were falling in anywhere major, it would be an epidemic. Hell, if it even rained in the next town over we’d know. The con of living in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, besides the obvious, is that we are truly out of sight and out of mind.”
The group shivered with the truth of Chan’s words. Everyone bore a face of both hopefulness and cynicism as they toyed with the future of the town. 
“Think the cars still work?” Jisung mulled, “Or did the rain kill those, too?”
“Only one way to find out.”
iii. forewarning
“Got a little caught in the rain?” You mused. Hyunjin dashed into the restaurant, soaked down to the bone. A group dinner to celebrate your promotion at work was planned since the announcement, although now very hastily carried out due to the sudden weather. 
A waiter came moments before, and at numerous times, each to which were turned away in consideration for those who hadn’t made it yet. It started looking bleak—and understandably so, until Hyunjin finally pulled through at the door. The rest of the group chuckled lightheartedly; Chan pulled back a chair for him to seat. 
A fist smashed it to its side. 
“Hyunjin?”
“Don’t worry about it,” he muttered, just barely loud enough for you to catch. He pulled the seat back up, and threw his coat over it with abandon. Your friends’ liveliness diminished considerably, with every head turning towards the other. A cautious concernment battled the air, with Seungmin being the first to confront it. 
He rested a hand over Hyunjin’s fist, whom now sat with a face full of red and eyes casted down at his lap. 
“You alright there?” Seungmin started, pausing to look over the group, then tried again. “Did you miss the bus? Are you angry you’re late? It’s fine, you know. You can talk—”
Hyunjin erupted from his seat, staring down at Seungmin with irrational indignation. He clenched his lips, then slowly, quietly began to speak. “Don’t push me. I am not in the mood for this.”
You could tell he was holding something/himself back, but the curtness of his words startled you all the same. The rest of the group—Mina, Changbin, Jisung, Minho, Sana, and Chan—all gaped. Seungmin pulled his hands back and held up his arms, sweat building at his temple. You watched his features morph with his thoughts, and just when Hyunjin’s anger seemingly simmered, he braved his next words.
“Forgive me—”
Hyunjin swung. 
You heard it before you saw it. The sound of bone cracking against bone, the wet splats of blood upon tableware, it all made your stomach churn, and you dry heaved at the sight of Hyunjin aiming again. Your friends gasped, screamed, and scrambled away from the table as Chan raced for Hyunjin, but it was too late. Hyunjin’s fists met with Seungmin stronger than before with the buildup of his rage. Their faces almost held the same shade of red, but the color covered just as much ground. 
The entire restaurant followed your steps, spreading chaos where they looked on in shock. 
Chan stopped Hyunjin from placing another blow, but Seungmin already laid unconscious between the crimson rows of chairs. “Hey! Hey! Come on, man! What are you doing?”
“Shut up!” Hyunjin shoved Chan off and turned around to face him. This wasn’t Hyunjin, it couldn’t be. He looked and behaved all too unfamiliar, and within the depths of his eyes, he saw the same. He stared at Chan as though he were a stranger, a nobody, and in a split-second, an enemy. 
He thrusted at Chan and narrowly missed. 
“Chan!” you screamed and nearly bounded for him, tripping over the dozens of disorder limbs in your way. Hyunjin snapped his head and you saw the shift in his focus. He took a step towards you, unrestrained, before your boyfriend’s arms wrapped around his waist and threw him down to the floor. 
The restaurant’s workers decided to pull their weight—aiding Chan in confining a thrashing Hyunjin to the ground. A server grappled for Hyunjin’s waist. In that moment, Chan let go, for a second’s reprieve, to find a stronger grasp, or to spit some sense into Hyunjin’s face—you weren’t sure which; everything happened in a blur—Chan being shoved off, Hyunjin flying for the waiter, his fists connecting to his face, blood, shrieking, Chan burrowing you in his chest, tears full of fear running down your cheeks. 
“What’s going on?!” you cried, “He’s beating his face in!”
Chan’s ragged breaths met your ears, and his arms squeezed you in a deathly grip. You backed both of you into a corner along with the others, the sound of rain drumming harder with a sense of mayhem. All this confusion, the uproar inside your brain, you screamed for an answer, his, God’s, anyone who knew the truth. Chan’s tears fell alongside yours, and thwarted, he conceded. 
“I don’t know!” 
His hands balled in your hair, his eyes buried over the crown of your head. And the storm raged on, thunder clapping to the beat of Hyunjin’s fists.
iv. outrage
“Run.”
Shrieks echoed between every nook and cranny of the abandoned school building as you bounded down the halls. You were forced to break with your group, lest you fall victim to one who was in the group.
The sight of the school was first a sign of hope, a shaky breath of air, as you all barely escaped the downfall of the rain. And barely, indeed, since not all of you were lucky. Jisung sludged slowly behind the group, and when the first sound of thunder rang throughout the woods, he struggled kicking his feet quicker. For when it rained, it downpoured; and when the canopy could no longer protect him, he was doused with the sparkings of rage. 
He reached for Changbin, also soaked with the sky-fallen petrol, and strangled him. 
The rest of the group safely arrived at the building and collapsed, not in exhaustion or thirst or hunger, but with a chest-aching hopelessness. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. And you all swore that you had enough time to make it—instead, Jisung made it at the steps before anyone could react.
“Close the door!” 
Minho’s screams sounded from somewhere behind you, but you stayed put behind Chan’s back as he clearly tussled with the thought of blocking off another despair-stricken friend. His fingers clenched and unclenched around the door’s handle, and Jisung stomped closer and closer to your team. By then, you could already predict Chan’s next action, as a man with too much faith in his heart and fists too soft to land blows, he welcomed him in.
“Run!”
Fortunately, Chan’s legs were much too fast for Jisung to catch, but that just left the rest of you. 
Now, you all raced between rooms all familiar and yet alien, as the rain from the past week seemed to have already eroded its walls. It’s decrepit and menacing, and all around not a place you’d like to see Judgment Day in.
You avoided every footfall, chased every moonlight, and studied the rainstorm. You’d assume that with enough trained practice, this night should end without any more blood spilled. With enough luck and mercy on your side, you’ll all regroup, away from the terror of Jisung hunt for broken flesh. Maybe, all you guys needed was time and patience and separation. Maybe, the rain, the cursed rain, would drown out Jisung’s prowling footsteps and the shuffling of yours.
Your steps. 
His steps.
Chan’s steps.
Whose…? 
The steps—they wouldn’t stop coming in all directions. They grew louder with every step backward you took, and grew quiet when you stood still. Every now and again screams could be heard, and they repeated as the moon sailed through the night sky, blissfully unaware—a luxury that you could not be afforded. You prayed for the hiding to end, for Jisung’s rampage to quiet, for your friends and partner to escape to safety. But as each star grew brighter, as though mocking your situation, its reality settled heavy on your shoulders. 
You were never going to see your friends again.
v. new find
A male figure laid with only skin and bones. His arms crossed over his stomach as though he died hanging onto what little remained in it. You didn’t approach, too disheartened by the reality of your situation to take a closer look. Chan clearly felt differently, because he stepped closer to kneel over the body. You sighed.
“Another person starved,” you bemoaned, “That could’ve been us.”
Chan kept his silence, opting instead to rearrange the figure despite your protests. Wincing, you turn your flashlight towards something less gruesome. 
“He didn’t starve,” Chan whispered. 
“Huh?”
“He definitely did not starve,” Chan repeated, rising to full-height. He took a step back, knocking against a wall, a jittery finger pointed at the body. He struggled to spit out his words. “He ate. His lips, his clothes, his hands—full of blood.”
Confusion swirled in your mind. You flashed your light back at the body, but remained in your spot—the thought of seeing further detail made your stomach twist in knots. But the light reflected just enough for you to see; viscera were loosely wrapped around his limbs, yet you couldn’t spot a single open wound or injury on him. 
“W-what do you think this means?” you didn’t want to think deeper on this topic. You wished you could turn your brain off instead. “Surely it could have been an animal, right? Rats must be everywhere.”
“All animals had died since the very first time it rained,” Chan said grimly. You could feel him turn to look at you, but you refused to lift your gaze from the ground. “You know what this means. You’ve seen it.”
You gulped. The truth was there. 
“I have.”
vi. is it rage?
A drop of rain fell onto your hand. 
It soaked there, for just a second. The fear in your stomach almost vanquished, replaced instead with a false sense of relief, pride, and wisdom. You had almost cheered—it isn’t the rain that’s changing people! But then it absorbed.
You felt it in your chest first—thrumming violently near your heart. It made your heart feel like a muscle, a real muscle that grew tougher and stiffer with every pump. It made your blood prod against your veins, seeking exit in holes that didn’t exist. But in the end, it made its own and tinted your vision with red splotches, boiling out the skin of your face one pour at a time.
It grew maddening, terrible, and seared through your stomach in bouts of bile, venom and spite. Your lover’s face flashed inside your mind, and in the next bruised, burnt, and pummeled. Each image ticked with a new injury, a new mutilation and somehow it was the only thing that calmed the fire underneath your ribcage. You gurgled with the little space left inside your lungs.
Your limbs twitched. Your ears pulsed. 
A drop of rain fell onto your hand. 
Blood followed next.
— An All-Consuming Rage
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Stark Spangled Banner Ch 28: Crossbones
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Summary: The Avengers uncover the identity of the mysterious Crossbones and mount a mission to apprehend him in Lagos.
Warnings: Bad Language words. A bit of light smut. No under 18s please!)
Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark
Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist  
Hit me with an ask for a Tag/Request
(also for this one, I’ve played a little bit with the official MCU timeline for Ant Man’s appearance here but let me have some creative license!)
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 January 2016
“Are you sure this isn’t a team call?” Katie asked Steve, watching as he picked up his SHIELD.
“No.” he said firmly, as they walked down the corridor.  “We don’t even know if he will be there.”
“But…”
“Katie, stop it.” he chuckled, pushing the door open to enter the hangar. “We’ll be fine. This is intelligence gathering, I’ve no intention of heading straight off after this guy, not until we find out what his play is.”
“His play is arms trading.” Nat interjected dryly as she appeared at the side of the jet.
“Which we are going to gather intelligence on.” Steve looked at her sternly “Nothing more.”
Katie bit her lip, she wasn’t convinced.
“We’ll be fine.” Steve continued, putting both his hands on her shoulders before he deftly changed the subject. “Don’t you have an interview to be getting ready for?”
He watched as the gentle smile spread across her face, a surge of pride flooding his system. She’d recently found out that the author of one of the books SIP had published last year had worked their way onto the Pulitzer Nominee list for fiction. The book itself held a plot centred around a War Veteran and the letters he wrote to his girl back home, and she’d roped Steve into helping the author keep it as factually correct as possible, something he had found strangely nostalgic yet enjoyable. Upon publishing it had flown off the shelves, the original 500 copies went within 3 hours causing a mad scramble for a second run and downloads had been off the scale. Other than the Thrombey book they had published, it was their biggest seller to date, shifting almost half a million copies in a month, and with a foreword from Steve Rogers, critics had raved about how poignant it was. It hadn’t won the prize, but simply being a nominee Katie had explained was an honour in itself. The Publicists at SIP had arranged for the author to be interviewed in a few newspapers and magazines along with one of them also requesting Katie, to discuss the launch of her new Foundation. This was going to work alongside the September Foundation Tony was launching, but instead of focusing on inventors and science she was focussing on authors and the arts. After a lot of deliberation and brain storming with Steve she’d called it the March Foundation. A play on words to honour both the War Based fiction that had inspired it and the man who had saved her life as March was the month of Bucky’s birth. A decision that had really touched Steve.
“Just be careful…” she sighed as she eyed Natasha heading up the ramp into the jet.
“I’m always careful.” Steve kissed her gently.
“Now that’s just an out and out lie…” she mumbled against his lips. He grinned and pulled back, pecking her mouth once more before he started up the ramp. He paused at the top and turned to face her. “We’ll be back late tonight. Don’t wait up.”
“I won’t!” she teased.
He flashed her another grin and then he hit the button and the ramp started to close. A loud siren told Katie that the hangar door was opening and that was her cue to leave. She headed back over to the steps at the side, leading up to the mezzanine and as she reached the top she saw the jet fly out of the side and over the frosty compound grounds. It was up and gone before she had reached the double doors at the top.
The base was a hive of activity already, despite it being little after 7am. Katie was heading for an hour or so in the gym before her day began properly. She stuck her Bluetooth headphones in, selected the usual work out play-list and began to run on the treadmill, slowly at first to ease herself in- she was a little bit stiff and sore from her sparring session with Natasha yesterday. Nat had really upped the ante on Katie over the last month or so, which was good as Katie was now pretty much on a par with her when it came hand to hand, something Steve had been completely astonished to see after walking in on the two women just as his wife floored Natasha with a well-placed leg swipe the red head didn’t see coming. 
40 minutes later, Katie swapped to the rower to finish off, and was approximately half way through the 3k distance when her music cut off and the screen to the right of the machine switched over from the play-list to Rhodey.
"Hey Kiddo," he smiled as she stopped rowing to look at him. "Sorry to interrupt, but we’ve had a sensor trip on the outer perimeter of the facility."
"You send someone out there?" she frowned, catching her breath as she picked up the bottle of water that was to her right.
"Yeah, Sam is currently out there looking for it, just thought, well seeing as Cap and Nat are out, you’re technically the one in charge so…”  
She let out a snort. Being 3rd in command was something she didn’t really care for, knowing full well it was Steve’s way giving her some kind of authority over simply being the Captain’s Wife, but she’d accepted the gesture simply because he’d been so excited when he had asked her she couldn’t refuse.
"Thanks Rhodey.” she said, already halfway out of the gym “I’ll be right there."
She moved quickly to the armoury, grabbed a gun and a fleece jacket before quickly making her way outside.
"What's going on up there, Sam?" Rhodey spoke in her ear as she walked into the cold air, spotting Sam circling above.
"I'm at the location of the sensor trip, but I'm not seeing anything" he said, “oh, hang on…”
“What is it?” Katie asked, watching him as he circled above her.
“Roof top…”
“Gimme a lift?” 
Sam swooped down from the clear, winter sky and she grabbed his arm as he effortlessly pulled her up, dropping them both onto the flat roof of one of the buildings.
"I can see you." Sam called out loudly as they landed.
Katie frowned, as she didn't know what Sam was talking about until out of nowhere a man in a red and silver suit, with an insect like helmet suddenly appeared. Katie cocked her gun and aimed it at him.
"Who the hell are you?" she questioned. As they watched the man started to awkwardly introduce himself to Sam, his mask lifted to reveal a shaky smile as he waved.
"Hi, I'm Scott. I know who you are, obviously, you’re Katie Stark, I mean Rogers…” Scott started trying to hold back his enthusiasm and motioning towards Sam and Katie with a chuckle, "I'm a big fan.”
"Appreciate it. But like the lady asked, who the hell are you?" Sam echoed Katie’s earlier sentiments.
"I'm Ant-Man." Scott or Ant-Man answered confidently. Sam and Katie shared an incredulous look and Katie mouthed the name back to him and he shrugged. Katie lowered her gun slightly.
"Wanna tell me what you want?" Katie questioned Ant-Man as the man tried to explain why the 2 Avengers hadn’t heard of him.
Scott pointed towards a building to their left, maintaining eye contact with Katie as he spoke "I was hoping I could grab a piece of technology. Just for a few days, then I'd return it. I need it to, uh, save the world- you know how that is."
"Yeah, we know exactly how that is," Sam said to Scott and Katie felt her mouth twitching into a grin.
“What piece of technology, and what do you mean saving the world?” she asked.
“I’d love to tell you but Hank Pym said never to trust a Stark.” The man called Scott, or Ant-Man was almost apologetic. “Even though you’re technically a Rogers now.”
Katie frowned, she’d never heard of a Hank Pym before, but that was irrelevant now. Sam gave a sigh besides her and stepped forwards.
“We’ve located the breach.” he spoke “Bringing him in…”
"I'm really sorry about this." Scott rushed out and as Sam reached out to him he vanished.
“What the…” Katie spun round and felt something hit her, hard in the back. She fell forward onto the gravelled surface of the roof before rolling onto her back, gun raised again just in time to see Sam flying backwards off the edge, tumbling through the air and grappling with something whilst flying over the lawns of the facility.
Katie could do nothing but stand and watch from her vantage point as Sam continued to wrestle with, then shoot at the man who could shrink and grow seemingly at will. And if she was completely honest, it was kind of entertaining to watch.
“This guy would actually be pretty useful.” Katie mused into the coms, trying but failing to hide the amusement in her voice “Are you recording this? For future, recruitment purposes obviously.”
"All over it." Rhodey responded, a slight chuckle punctuating his confirmation.
It was when the two men crashed into the storage unit that Ant-Man had wanted to break into in the first place that she started to get concerned.
"Err do we have cameras in there?" she questioned Rhodey.
"Uh… negative." Rhodey answered after a short pause.
“Shit.” Running to the side of the roof she scaled down the metal ladder at the side, dropping the last 8 feet or so, landing gently before she ran towards the storage building. At that point Sam came crashing backwards through the metal door and she flung her arms up to shield her face from the debris before glancing up. Sam’s flight pattern was jerky and off and he was gripping at his pack on his back.
"He's in my pack!" Sam shouted before he landed hard in the dirt and with a groan, pulled himself into a standing position, yanking off his goggles.
“You ok?” Katie asked as she got over to him.
Sam sighed. "It's really important to me that Cap never finds out about this."
The pair of them scouted around but to no avail, there was no sign of Ant-Man, or Scott. Katie instructed Rhodey to get the door fixed and lock it down again and said she would speak to Tony to find out what was in there. Sam was luckily not hurt, just a slight bruising to his pride so Katie left him at the lab with Lawson to look at making the repairs to his pack before she headed off to get changed.
*****
Steve and Natasha landed in Sadove, Crimea and were instantly greeted by the man who was leading the investigation into the raid on the local police station. The last 3 out of 6 hits the guy had made had been on small, local outfits with less resistance than the other places he had hit but that was hardly surprising. The former SHIELD base he had hit in Mexico had been heavily guarded, which made Steve think that he had perhaps suffered losses to his team which was making him rethink his strategy. As Natasha chatted to the man in his local language, Steve hung back before the man nodded to Natasha and strode towards him.
“Captain Rogers.” he said, English thick with accent “Inspector Chernov.”
Steve shook the man’s hand “Pleasure to meet you in person Inspector.”
“So you are interested in the man who raided our local station…” “He’s been on our radar for a while.” Steve said, choosing his words carefully “But we don’t have much to go on.” “Well, I’m not sure we can help but I can take you down there and you can see for yourself.” Steve nodded. “That would be great, thanks.”
It wasn’t a long drive, and once they arrived Steve and Natasha were allowed to wander round the scene undisturbed, providing they didn’t interfere with the police and teams already swamping the area. Their search showed them nothing new and they moved to watching the CCTV which the Authorities had refused to send them. They could have hacked into it, but Steve was keen to keep the tentatively growing communication lines with Crimea and Russia as amicable as possible, especially in the light of Sokovia. The Avengers were not a political party, so by remaining respectful of their requests to meet only in person he hoped it went someway to proving they were here to help and had no ulterior motives.
As such they sat in the mobile control centre, scanning the CCTV. Steve watched the footage and sighed.
“This isn’t Hydra.” Nat said.
“I know, it’s not their MO. This guy is too haphazard.” Steve pondered “Just wondering why, considering how well organised he is, he is leaving so much devastation behind.”
“Minimum effort leaving maximum casualties.” Natasha said, watching the footage “He simply doesn’t care who he takes out.” “Well he’s hardly gonna care about that if he’s dealing black market arms.” Steve sighed.
They watched the footage, and Steve held his hand up to Natasha to play it at normal speed when they reached the bit where the key perps were on screen.
“What’s he doing?” he frowned, looking at Crossbones. The man was stood in the middle of the room, looking around.
“He’s scanning for Cameras.” Nat answered as they both watched. 
There was something familiar about the way the man walked and held himself, but Steve couldn’t quite place it. As they continued the footage, Crossbones located the camera they were watching through and looked directly up at it, pulling his mask up to reveal his mouth, clearly saying something.
“Can you enhance that?” Steve asked. Natasha tapped at it.
It zoomed in on the man and Natasha spoke “looks like something about it being personal…”
She held her phone up to the footage and then pressed something, and the phone spoke to her in a robotic voice.
“Big Guy…I just want you to know, this aint personal…” Steve’s gut clenched. The last time he had heard those words were in an elevator in the Triskelion.
“Rogers?” Natasha looked at him, noticing the nerve which was twitching in his jaw “What is it? Does that mean something to you?”
“In a fashion.” he turned to face her. “It’s Rumlow.”
****** The interviews went well and once the photos etc were done Katie and Tony retreated to the living area of the Tower for a well-earned drink as they put the final touches of their tour together. They were to start visiting various Universities across the US to roll out their foundation grants. To ease them both in gently, the first University they were going to was Columbia, so not far from home. Tony and Pepper would be presenting and discussing to students within the School of Engineering and Applied Sciences and Katie in the School of the Arts for Students on the Writing Programme.
Their chatter moved from work to Tony asking how the Compound was going, and Katie remembered the events of that morning.
“You ever heard of a bloke called Hank Pym?” she asked suddenly.
Tony paused for a moment, frowning at her sudden change of subject, but something stirred in his mind. “The name rings a bell, hang on…FRIDAY, search all files reference Hank Pym.” He instructed, tapping at something on his tablet.
After a few seconds something flashed up in the corner of the screen.
“Yeah, here you go.” He pressed another button causing the image to reflect in front of them as a hologram. “He worked with Dad and SHIELD on a programme called Project GOLIATH.”
“What the hell was that?” Katie asked, taking a pull from her bottle.
“A research programme into some kind of Nano particle.” Tony said as the pair of them simultaneously ran through the information on the screen.
“Ahhhh.” Katie nodded, “makes sense…” “What does?”
Katie explained about the encounter with Scott and Tony gave a hum of agreement. 
“That could actually be kinda useful.”
“I know.” she agreed “But he vanished after he got whatever he wanted. Any thoughts on what it could be?”
“That facility holds a load of crap that was Dad’s” Tony said simply “Could be anything.”
“Well, nothing we could see was missing, but it might be worth you taking a look.” she suggested.
He shrugged “I can do, but there was nothing remotely dangerous in there. Was just a load of old signal jammers and code breakers we don’t really need anymore.”
“Well, I did try and ask what him what it was he wanted, you know, on account of him saying he was saving the world, maybe we could have helped with that, being the Avengers and all, but he simply turned round and said ‘Hank Pym told me never to trust a Stark’.”
She drained her bottle of beer as Tony did the same and he stood up, taking the empties to retrieve 2 more from the fridge.
“Clearly one of many in the long line of people dad pissed off.” Tony rolled his eyes as he popped the lids, before he sighed “I’m actually surprised no one tried to kill him before, you know…”
Katie looked at her brother and swallowed. Tony had no idea how close to the truth he was, that their parents had been assassinated by Hydra, who had made their car crash look like an accident.
“Sorry.” he slid the beer across the bar, mistaking her guilty silence for one of upset “That was out of order.”
“For all his faults I don’t think Dad wasn’t a bad man.” Katie spoke quietly “And he did love us.”
“I know.” Tony nodded, squeezing her hand.
She stayed for another drink and then headed home. She had checked in with Sam before heading back to their apartment and she was settled on the couch with a glass of wine when Steve called.
“Hey Soldier.” she said, smiling at the screen as she flicked the phone to project the image in front of her, muting the TV.
“Hey gorgeous.” He smiled back
“So, how was it?” she asked
“We got the intel.” 
“Solid?”
“Pretty solid yeah.” Natasha spoke, appearing by his side. “We think we know who he is anyway.” “Who?”
Steve sighed “Rumlow.” “What?” Katie spluttered into her wine glass. “Are you sure?”
“Oh pretty sure.” Steve said, “He left me a clear message.”
“Steve recognised him on the Video so I ran a crosscheck.” Nat said “ Turns out he was listed as severely injured and was taken to the hospital. After that, our trail runs cold.” 
“Until now.” Katie sighed.
“We’ve also got a list of his associates, some known faces he’s been seen with.” Steve shrugged “So we’re putting out an alert.”
“Doesn’t give us much to go on though.” Katie rubbed at her temples.
“When have we ever had much to go on?” Natasha asked and Katie shrugged
“Fair point.” she conceded as Natasha moved off out of sight.
“So how has your day been?” Katie looked back at Steve as he spoke.
“Not bad actually.” she said, “Interviews went well, oh, and we had a bit of an incident at base before.” “Incident?” he frowned, “What kind of incident?”
“Attempted break in, nothing major.”
“Everyone ok?”
“Yeah, honestly it was no biggie, I’ll fill you in on when you get home. For the rest of the day once the interviews were done Tony and I drank beer.”
“Sounds pretty productive.” he raised an eyebrow
“Beer is always productive.” Katie informed him and he chuckled.
“We’ll be airborne in 30 minutes and then we should be home in about 4 to 5 hours.” He said, as Katie looked at her watch. It was almost 8:30 pm. 
“Alright, I’ll see you soon.”
“Love you.”
“And you.” she cut the call with a yawn. She was tired. Really tired, so she headed off for a bath. After soaking and listening to music for 40 minutes she dried off and shoved on one of Steve’s T-shirts before climbing into bed and lay there for a moment, flicking through the TV channels. She settled on an episode of Family Guy and snuggled down into the large bed, wrapping herself in the soft covers. It always felt odd sleeping without Steve being there. Sometimes she quite enjoyed being able to starfish in the middle of the Emperor sized bed but tonight she wasn’t enjoying being alone.
****
Steve was whacked when they arrived home. Bidding good night to Natasha he headed back and let himself into their quarters. Crossing the hallway he made his way into the bedroom and paused, a gentle smile spreading on his face. Illuminated in the light from the hallway he could see Katie was curled up in the middle of the bed, using his pillow as a hugging buddy. He quietly crossed the room and perched on the bed, stripping off his boots and uniform top. He paused slightly as Katie stirred and he turned to look at her, gently brushing her hair of her face. He glanced down at the freckles he knew by memory, long thick lashes, soft pink lips…she looked so peaceful asleep.
She stirred again, and the her nose wrinkled in that adorable way it did when she was waking up and she cracked an eye open before her face split into a smile at the sight of her husband.
“Hey.”
“Hey baby doll.” he smiled, his hand cupping her cheek  “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you”
“It’s ok.” she yawned, leaning into his touch.
"Did I tell you how beautiful you are?" he asked, and through the tiny sliver of light coming from the hallway Katie could see his eyes were full of their usual warmth.
"I don't think you did today, no."
"Well you are" he dropped a soft kiss on her head. “I’m gonna take a shower and then I’ll be right with you.”
She watched him appreciatively as he stood up and pulled his compression-shirt over his head, heading into the en-suite. For a moment she was tempted to join him, but then decided against it, laying back onto her side, dozing.
It wasn’t long before the bed dipped and she felt him slide under the covers next to her. She turned over to snuggle up into the crook of his shoulder, her head laying on his chest.
“So, you wanna tell what the incident was today?” he asked, his right hand reaching up to play with the strands of her hair that fell over her shoulder.
“Oh yeah.” she grinned before she launched into an explanation about Scott-slash-Ant Man. He fell silent for a moment but in the end came to the same conclusion as Tony had, there was nothing in there that was dangerous so they just needed to remain vigilant.
“Yeah, well Sam seemed to be taking vigilant to the extreme as he’s already been on the phone to numerous contracts, trying to track him down.” she said “I think he’s a bit annoyed the guy basically kicked his ass. Rhodey caught it all on video but Sam told me never to tell you about it. He’s taken it quite personally.” “I’m not surprised, he had his ass kicked.” Steve sniggered. “Where do I get a copy of the CCTV?”
Katie grinned, “I have it on my phone, Rhodey sent it to me.”
“Play it.” he instructed.
“What now?” “Yes, right now.” he nodded, moving so he was sat up, jolting her off his chest.
“No Sam will kill me!” she laughed, propping herself up on her elbow
“Screw Sam!” he snorted “He plays those damned Phys Ed videos every chance he gets.”
“That’s true.” Katie pondered “Ok, hang on…”
She turned, reaching over for the phone and the TV remote. Blinking at the sudden light, once her eyes were accustomed to the change she pressed a few buttons on her phone and beamed the footage to the TV on the wall. She had to admit, it looked even funnier from the video play back than it had when she had been there.
Steve let out a huge, genuine laugh, his head thrown back, banging against the headboard, arm clutched across his chest as he laughed, and laughed.
“I’m so showing that at our next briefing.” he said, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.
“You can’t…” “Oh, I can!”
****
The next morning the pair of them made their way to the briefing room both munching on a piece of toast and each carrying a mug of coffee. It was early, before 8, but Steve wanted the team to be prepared. Everyone filed into the room along with some good humoured grumbling about the time before they dropped into their preferred seats and looked to the front of the room.
“I know it’s early and I’m sorry…” Steve said, holding his hands up, looking round at the team assembled in front of him “But this is important.”
“More important than sleep?” Sam yawned.
Steve ignored him. “Alright, here's what we already know," Steve began to explain how they believed Rumlow to be Crossbones, the masked man who had been causing a whole lot of chaos in the wake of what happened at the Triskelion. Katie knew he was annoyed at himself for not realising he had survived sooner, but even if they had, they’d so much going on, not to mention Ultron had been a much bigger threat in the immediate future
"He's been targeting former SHIELD labs and police stations all over the country and selling products on the black market.” Natasha spoke.
“Police stations?” Katie asked.
“We think he suffered heavy losses at the raid prior to the last three, so he’s going for easier targets whilst he regroups.” Natasha answered.
“Still no intel on who his buyers are?” Wanda asked.
“No.” Steve shook his head, “He seems to have become an independent terrorist, and doesn’t appear to be working for anyone”
“Our recon yesterday told us that Rumlow seems to be operating with this guy.” Natasha explained as the photos flashed up “He’s known as the Black Mamba…” “Black Mamba?” Wanda deadpanned. “Cross Bones and Black Mamba?”
“NATO has every available pair of eyes out looking for them.”  Steve ignored Wanda and looked at Rhodey.
“Soon as they break cover, we’ll know.” Rhodey nodded
“So then what?” Sam frowned
“More recon?” Katie asked
Steve looked at his wife and nodded. “Possibly, but for now we need to let intelligence do their job. But be prepared, when we get a lead I want to be ready to go.”
There were mumbles around the room and Steve let the team lead the discussion. Sam commented on the crap code names again, causing Wanda to laugh. Katie suggested they should compile a detailed profile on Rumlow, see if they could find a pattern to his behaviour, nodding to Vision. the AI had a knack for it as did Katie, so Steve and Natasha nodded, both agreeing it was a good idea.
“We need to be vigilant.” Steve said, “Keep our eyes open for anything that’s out of the ordinary.” He caught Katie’s eye, a wicked smirk crossed his face and she shook her head smiling as he continued “Speaking of which…FRIDAY, play the video”
“Certainly Captain Rogers.” The pictures of Rumlow and Black Mamba disappeared from the screen and suddenly the footage of Sam spiralling through the air started to play. The room started to snigger as Sam looked at Katie who held her hands up in an “it wasn’t me!” gesture.
“Oh come on Man!” he groaned as the room gleefully watched the film, laughter ringing round the room.
******
The next 4 months ticked by with no further information on Rumlow. They pulled together a potted history which tracked the hospital he had been in, when he had escaped (the local authorities had been searching for him for ages since he threatened his nurse upon waking before violently breaking out) his movements since (ones they knew about and some they hadn’t) but it didn’t give them anything new.
Katie and Tony were buried deeply in their Foundation work, which was taking up a lot of Katie’s time so she wasn’t as close to the investigations as she could have been. Steve was fine with that though, the further away she was from Rumlow frankly the better, but he still made sure she was involved with what they had found and she attended the briefings as best she could when she wasn’t travelling the country. Steve’s chest burst with pride every time he saw his girl on the news, in papers, as the press seemed to be lavishing praise upon the siblings for what they were doing. 
Then, one day in the middle of May, they struck gold when one of the Facial Recognition Alerts they had set up pinged to Black Mamba being spotted in a Lagos, Nigeria. As a result Steve had scrambled them all to attention as soon as he could, which was 4 am. But there were no complaints about the time, not when they knew this could be their chance to bring him in. They all pitched round the screen as Steve and Natasha identified the local police station that they suspected of him hitting, given where the FR had pinged several times.
“We think they are scoping this area.” Nat said, drawing a red circle round a part of the town.
Katie moved the screen with her fingers, enlarging the aerial shots as she looked at them, her analytical brain going ten to the dozen.
“Layout looks pretty standard.” she said, scanning the map, frowning slightly. Something was nagging at her. And as she looked, she realised what it was.
“What is it?” Steve asked, recognising the tone of her voice and frown on her face.
“The Science Institute.” she said, nodding towards the screen. “Big white building at the end of the road.”
“Biological weapons are big on the black market.” Sam cottoned on, nodding slightly.
“Yeah but his recent previous hits and our pattern analysis don’t give us any reason to believe that’s what he’s going to be aiming for.” Nat suggested
“You said yourself that you suspected he was going for easier targets whilst he regrouped.” Katie said “What if he has?”
“We have to assume Rumlow will go for the police station, it’s the best intel we have.” Steve said, and he noticed the look on Katie’s face as she crossed her arms and opened her mouth to argue. “But we should be vigilant, keep alert.”
She exchanged a glance with Sam, who simply shrugged
“We do this with stealth.” Steve continued, “I want us on the ground and out of sight, we need to catch him with as little fuss or danger to civilians as possible”
"Yeah, and with that in mind Viz you may need to sit this one out." Nat tossed out and Vision nodded deprecatingly
"We're still working on him blending in." Wanda added.
"Same for you too Rhodey.” Steve looked at him “We need someone back here, we could be gone a few days.”
Rhodey nodded. “No problem Cap.” “Get what you need. Wheels up in twenty." Steve dismissed everyone who immediately went their separate ways to prepare for the upcoming mission leaving Katie, Natasha and Steve alone
“You think she’s ready?” Natasha looked at Steve, nodding to Wanda. He took a deep breath, staring at the door through which she had just left with Vision.
“You say she’s been training hard…” he said after a moments pause, looking at Nat.
“Yeah, she has but…her powers are still largely impacted by her emotions.”
“Aren’t everyone’s?” Katie asked. “I mean I’m angry or upset I fight harder…” “Yeah but,” Nat sighed “It isn’t the same, she can do a lot of damage.”
“We have the bare bones of a team as it is.” Steve shook his head and Katie looked down, feeling slightly guilty. She had discussed this with Steve, she wasn’t going. The Stark Foundation Tour had another few visits to Universities this week. Steve spotted the look on her face and he gently nudged her arm “That’s not a criticism honey…” “I know…” she bit her lip. Maybe she should postpone…
“Throw in the fact that this is the first full team mission we’ve had since Ultron and I don’t see any choice but to take Wanda” Steve shrugged, ending the conversation.
Nat took a deep breath and nodded “You’re right. And maybe being in an actual mission environment might help her gain some control, I mean practice makes perfect.”
“You trying to convince me or yourself?” he asked, eyeing her
“Both.” she drawled, heading out of the door.
Katie took a deep breath as Steve turned to her. “You best go.” she said softly. He bit his lip before he pulled her into an embrace, kissing her softly.
“I’ll call as soon as I can.” he promised, pressing his forehead to hers.
“Stay safe, please.” she sighed as he kissed the tip of her nose and hurried out of the door.
Once he was gone Katie sank onto a chair, her head in her hands. She was torn, really torn. For the last year or so, post Ultron, they’d had a pretty quiet time of it, mopping up any stray Hydra operatives that strolled into their patch. But this, this was big. Was the Foundation really more important than heading off whatever shitty plan Rumlow was trying to pull off? She was still an Avenger…she’d never quit that, and would never quit that.
“You’ll always be Iron Man, Tone…” the words she had stated to Tony when he had decided to quit active service echoed round her head. And then she realised, she’d always be Supernova, whether she wanted to be or not.
“I’m gonna regret this.” She groaned to herself as she jumped up, and headed after Steve.
*****
Steve, at first, had tried to argue against her coming but when Natasha had pointed out they could do with the support he had relented and the team had been bolstered by Supernova’s return to active duty.
Their support staff had done a great job on such a short time, and rented the group a 4 bedroomed apartment overlooking the street the Police Station was on. It wasn’t fancy, but it was the last place anyone would think would house Avengers. Over the first 24 hours they set up a command centre, with coms links back to base and the next morning they began their recon.
The first 2 days were completely uneventful. No sign of Rumlow or any of his associates. Nat was the expert at covert ops and so she took the lead, directing them to all the right places coaching Wanda along the way and Steve was pleasantly surprised to see how well the younger girl took to the task, blending in with the locals. Katie took to observing from up high with Sam, and she was focussing on the Biological Institute, unable to shake the nagging feeling she had about the place. She hadn’t mentioned it since their brief a few days ago, but Steve knew when she had an idea in her head she wouldn’t rest so he left her to it. Between them they had the area covered, which was good enough.
On the evening of the 4th day Wanda, Sam and Natasha headed out for a little undercover work in the bars at night, “So you guys can have a little undercover activity of your own” Sam teasingly stated, patting Steve on the back as he left, drawing an exasperated sigh from the soldier. Nevertheless, the door had hardly shut before Steve had his wife pinned up against a wall, hands wandering all over her body, lips and teeth clashing, her hand fisting in the slightly longer strands of hair at the top of his head as they’d furiously taken advantage of their first time alone in days.
The next morning Katie woke at about 5:45 and rolled over only to find the bed empty besides her. Steve could never rest when they were in the middle of a case like this. The clothes they had shed the night before were now neatly folded and placed on top of the dresser, and she had to smile. Even now he was a total neat freak. Knowing full well where he would be she climbed out of the bed, pulled on Steve’s T-shirt and a pair of shorts before making her way into the dark corridor. She stopped in the doorway of the small dining room which was functioning as a makeshift office and sure enough, there he was, the lamp softly illuminated his handsome face as he flicked through a file, crease evident between his brows.
“Soldier, you’re up so early?” she said gently. Steve had heard her coming of course. Smiling softly, as he was always pleased to see her, he turned to face her as she crossed the room.
“Yeah, sorry, I woke about half an hour ago and couldn’t get back to sleep.”
“You know, I get that you’re fed up of just waiting but sitting here re-reading all this isn’t going to help you know.” Katie said, taking the file off him and dropping it onto the wooden table, before she perched on the edge.
“I know, it’s just so goddamned frustrating.” Steve ran his hand over his face. After pondering for a moment Katie stood up and walked behind the chair and placed her hands on his shoulders. He let out a groan of satisfaction and leaned back in his seat as she kneaded the muscles with her hands. She found a particularly bad spot just under his shoulder blade and began to push harder with her thumb. Steve couldn’t decide if it was pleasurable or painful and made a little noise, which was half way between the two.
"God your shoulders are so knotty." She mused and he left out a breath through his nose moving his head to the side.
“Yeah well, I did a lot of exercise last night.” He quipped back as her hands continued to work at his shoulders.
“I’ll say.” She grinned. “You know that thing you did with your mouth last night is actually illegal in several countries.” “Good job we live in the land of the free.” He said, voice low as he fully relaxed under her touch.  Katie carried on working at his muscles in silence for a moment, happy to let him bliss out. 
"So… answer me a question?" She spoke after a short while, rousing him a little, and he hummed, unable to bring himself to be bothered to talk.
"If you couldn’t sleep why didn’t you wake me to help you?” Her voice was loaded as she leaned forward to wind her arms around his neck, running her hands up and down his chest from behind. Steve loved it when she touched him like that which was why he pouted slightly when she pulled away, but the pout didn’t last long and a smirk crossed his face as Katie walked round to the front of his chair
“And how, exactly, would you have done that?" His hands moved to rest on her hips as she lowered herself so that she was straddling him. She slid one of her hands around the back of his head to tangle in his hair the other settling on his chest.
“Reckon I can think of a few ways.”  she smirked slyly before using her hand in his hair to pull him forward and connect their lips. Steve kissed her back immediately as one hand crept up the back of her top, the other on the side of her thigh, sliding up her shorts.
“Sleepy yet?” She murmured.
“Not exactly the word I would use.” Steve raised an eyebrow.
She grinned and then began to rock her hips on top of him grinding down on his growing hardness and he sighed slightly, kissing her harder as she pushed down again. With an automatic reaction he raised his hips, rocking up to meet her and this time she groaned as she could feel the friction of their clothes grinding against her spot. His hands were now firmly holding her hips underneath her, no, his top, and he sat forward so his mouth could cover the spot under her ear that drove her wild. With a soft sigh she titled her head to the side as he trailed kisses across her jaw until his mouth met her lips again. His hands reached down to grasp the hem of her top and he had just begun to slide it upwards when they were interrupted by a raspy voice.
"I thought all the making out fully clothed supposedly stopped when you reached the age of 17." Natasha scoffed from the doorway. Katie looked up over Steve’s shoulder as he sighed, dropping his head onto her chest.
“Don’t you know how to knock?” Katie sighed.
“Don’t you know how to lock a door?” she replied, dryly.
“I take it this isn’t a social call?” Steve’s voice was muffled as he spoke into his wife’s chest.
“Half and half.” Natasha arched an eyebrow, “Unsociable hour it maybe but Wanda’s already up and wants breakfast, she was going to head out to the local bakery but I thought it might be an idea to start the re-con early.”
Steve’s head looked up to Katie’s as she shifted off his lap and straightened out her clothing and hair. Steve glanced down at his crotch and Katie raised an eyebrow slightly as he stood up and adjusted his sweats in an attempt to hide his slowly ebbing arousal before he turned to face the red head.
“Well, you’re the expert in this covert stuff.” He said, looking at Natasha. “What have you got in mind?”
*****
“All right, what do you see?” Steve was coaxing Wanda, as ever, to observe her surroundings, see and hear everything, on the job training he supposed you could call it.
Meanwhile, Katie glanced down from the rooftop on which Sam and her were currently stood, her scanners doing their usual work. No weapons spotted yet.
“Standard beat cops. Small station. Quiet street. It’s a good target” Wanda’s voice came through the ear piece Steve was wearing.
“There’s an ATM in the South Corner.” he replied “which means….”
“Cameras” Wanda said instantly.
“Both cross streets are one way.” He carried on
“So, compromised escape routes.”
“Means our guy doesn't care about being seen, he isn't afraid to make a mess on the way out.” Steve concluded. “You see that Range Rover halfway up the block?”
“Yeah, the red one? It’s cute”
“It's also bulletproof,” Katie cut in as FRIDAY completed a scan on the vehicle “Which means private security…”
“Which means more guns, which means more headaches for somebody. Probably us” Nat finished
“You guys know I can move things with my mind, right? “ Wanda replied
“Looking over your shoulder needs to become second nature.” Natasha continued
“Anybody ever tell you you're a little paranoid?” Sam asked and Katie turned to look at him, retracting her face plate to give him a grin.
“Not to my face. Why? Did you hear something?” the exchange continued.
“Eyes on target, folks” Steve said with an air of authority, bringing them back to the job in hand. This is the best lead we've had on Rumlow in six months. I don't want to lose him.”
If he’s here, of course
“If he sees us coming that won't be a problem. He kind of hates us.” Sam replied
As Steve watched he noticed that a garbage truck was slowly pushing its way through traffic, with no regard to pedestrians or other vehicles. He frowned and kept his eyes on it as it continued to gather momentum as it went.  
“Sam…see that garbage truck?” he said “Tag it.”
Sam’s small drone launched, swooping down to scan the garbage truck as Katie instructed Friday to do the same.
“Give me X-ray.” Sam spoke.
“That truck’s loaded for max weight.” he replied “And the driver’s armed.” Sam added.
And in the second that it dawned on Steve what was going on. The raid was going down, but Katie had been right all along, a fact she cottoned on to as well.
“It’s a battering ram” she said as realisation flooded her body.
“Go, now!” Steve yelled. “There not hitting the station…” “The institute…” Sam looked at Katie, and she nodded as the two of us took off after the truck.  ***** So, we head into Civil War... I’m not sure I’m ready!!!
Tags
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fight-surrender · 4 years
Text
The One Where Simon Gets Bitten By That Werewolf
Word Count: 1047
Rating: Teen and up
Read on AO3
Summary: "A-ha!" He shouts, springing up and pointing. It scares the hell out of me. I've seen him kill a dog with less effort. (He said the dog was were; I think it was just excited.) - From "Carry On" By Rainbow Rowell
What if the dog actually was were? And it bit Simon? 
------------------------
@sharkmartini : Thanks for the 6 sentence Sunday tag. My goal for the weekend was to finally post this fic and get all my Whumptobers on AO3, so no actual writing progress per se. I messaged you a really long time ago when I came up with the idea for this fic, so it seems kind of poetic to tag you on it. Here are more than six sentences ;). I’m planning on updating this on Sundays, but then again maybe I should do Saturday? Hm. Guess I’ll figure it out as I go.
Chapter 1
Say, say, my playmate
Won't you lay hands on me
Mirror my melody
Transfer my tragedy?
-”Wolf Like Me” by TV on the Radio
 Baz
I’m walking across the great lawn when it hits me from behind, sending me crashing to the ground and my violin case flying. “That’s a 200-year-old Stradivarius you resplendent fuck, I snarl as I roll over to see what’s attacking me.” I look up at a huge set of dull yellow, razor sharp fangs. “You’re drooling on my lapels, you monster,” I gasp as I feel for my wand, which conveniently has landed just out of my reach.
An otherworldly growl accompanies jaws snapping at my throat. I’m tapping into my vampire strength, pushing its face away as my stupid wand skids further away. Fuck. Fine, this is just a dog, clearly, I can fight this thing off, but Merlin, it smells like a carcass, I think, as I attempt to wrestle if off of me.
The dog yelps as something slams into it like a steam train, and it tumbles off of me into the grass. I scramble to my feet and find Simon Snow grappling with an impossibly large, impossibly shaggy and malodorous dog.
“Where the fuck did you come from, Snow?” I gasp, trying to regain composure.  “Did your science experiment get loose?”
“Fuck off, Baz.” Simon grunts, putting the dog into some sort of headlock. “This thing is were.”
“Don’t be an idiot, Snow.” I reply. “That’s probably someone’s emotional support dog, it’s just excited. You’re trying to kill someone’s pet.”
“Fuck. Off.” The dog’s teeth snap within a hairsbreadth of Simon’s perfect face. He’s forced to let go and sends the dog skidding with a carefully placed kick.
The dog tumbles but gets up and advances slowly on Simon. Hackles raised, huge amber eyes staring him down. He’s emitting a perfectly sinister low grumble. Panting, Simon points his finger at the dog and gasps, “play dead.”
Immediately, the dog ceases snarling, shakes its head like it’s confused, then slumps to the ground.
Simon nudges it with his toe.
“Crowley, Snow. Did you kill it?” How did he even do that? That’s not even a spell. He didn’t use his wand.
“Thought it might stun him.” Simon seems dejected.
“Way to go for the nuclear option.” I quip. “I suppose you should look for the ID tag so you can notify the owner that you killed Fluffy.”
“It. Was. Were.” Simon is staring down at the body. He’s sounding a little less cocky, thoughtfully rubbing a small patch of bronze stubble on his chin.
“It was excited,” I correct.
We are disturbed by a sound, like sand gently pouring from a bag, followed by a mournful howl so faint that I’m not sure I actually heard it. We both stare at the body of the dog as it dematerializes into a pile of fine ash that blows away in the breeze that comes up from nowhere.
“Did you do that?” I ask Simon.
“No. I thought it was you,” He responds.
It’s only then, that I notice the smell. Like homemade cinnamon buns, and bacon. Like copper and smoke and heaven and hell and Simon.
My fangs pop as I step away from the thin line of crimson that is threading down Snow’s forearm. My heart is a kickdrum in my chest.
“Simon.” I choke out. Looking at the ground. Trying to keep the panic out of my voice. I want to run to him. I need to run away. Hug him or eat him. His smell is choking out everything I’m trying to think. I can feel his cross, even from here. Fuck. “Your arm.”
“Wha--?” Simon looks down as a dark red drop rolls off his wrist and lands on a brilliant green blade of grass. The color drains from his face. He’s almost as pale as I am. His blue eyes meet my grey ones, holding for just a moment.
Then he turns around and immediately starts to run.
 ***
 It’s dusk when I get back from the catacombs. There are spiderwebs in my hair and blood on my collar. Smelling Simon’s blood awoke more than just hunger. It was a yearning, an ache. A longing far beyond what had previously been just an adolescent crush. This is something altogether different. This is a want that’s bottomless and fathomless. I want Simon Snow, inside and out. All of him.
Merlin and Morganna. How am I supposed to live like this? The person I want most in the whole world is not only my mortal enemy, but he may or may not be turning into a werewolf. Fan-fucking-tastic. Further proof that God hates me.
I pause outside our room at Mummer’s house to breathe and calm my racing thoughts. I take a deep breath and open the door. Simon is sitting on his bed, head in his hands, a bandage around his right bicep.
“How’s the body hair situation?” I quip.
“Can you please, please, please just fuck off?” Simon rakes his hands through his hair and looks up at the ceiling. His eyes are rimmed with red and his pallor is more grey than tawny.
I sit next to him. I can’t believe I’m doing this.
“So,” I say, cocking my head his direction. “You’ve been bitten by what may or may not have been a werewolf.”
“Way to state the obvious, Baz.” Simon is positively growling. It’s delicious. He has the audacity to roll his eyes at me. I ignore it.
“Do you feel any different?” I press. “Any…stirrings? Increased interest in cats? Irresistible desire to catch a ball with your mouth?”
“How about an irresistible desire to punch you in the face?”
I choose to ignore this too. I deserve an award for my kindness.
“Well, I imagine the lycanthropy won’t kick in until the next full moon, right?” I remind him, helpfully.
Simon growls again, gets up and begins pacing the room. “That’s just great. What am I supposed to do until then?”
I cross my legs and cock an eyebrow at him as I  Lean back onto my elbows. I’m still on his bed. I lower my eyebrows. What exactly am I doing here?
“I suppose,” I respond, “we wait.”
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Text
Smoke and Ashes isn’t just a reference to a lesser-known Tracy Chapman song, I’ll have you know, my dear.
((yes that title was a little ridiculous but okay! this is my gift fic for @homestuckday-giftexchange - because by GOD i wish i could draw my dude - for @phantomwalker-246 !!! they asked for either fluffy or horrifically angsty and you’ll never guess which one i chose. happy 4/13, i hope you like this fic and have a beautiful weekend <3 <3))
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Just after Rose smells smoke, she gets a haunting premonition that shoots right up through her throat.
“What’s wrong?” Kanaya asks, flipping the page in her novel. She smoothes out the sleeve of Rose’s tacky green sweatshirt, then uses the same hand to take a sip of tea. The same hand that held her hair back for the withdrawals, that gave her cool cloths, that poured the found bottles and cups down the drain. The same hand that tended carefully to her, and just last week, held hers in a proposal.
“Can you smell that?” asks Rose, putting her laptop down on the table. Her nose prickles, and her throat itches. Does the air seem… a little thicker in here? Why is that? It’s a curious thing that just then, she hears sirens outside. Imagining things, that’s what she’s doing. A side-effect of the detoxing, of going cold turkey on the alcohol. Hallucinating. It’s after the end of all that, but still.
“Smell what?” Kanaya asks, relaxing a little further into the couch. A badly knit checkered blanket slips down and covers her shoulders. She grins, placing the tea down once more. “I put out a candle a little while ago, maybe you’re smelling that?”
But that couldn’t be it. This smell is more like… like wood burning. Like rubber heating and melting. The sharp and acrid scent of metal frying in a circuit. Rose’s head darts around, and she hopes desperately that she’s wrong. It’s been years since she was in school, when they would do the drills. They’d take the students into that little trailer-style house and show them the exits, and the height of the smoke.
A movement by the floor vent catches her eye, and the sickening feeling gets a lot stronger.
The sirens get louder outside, and she can hear shouting from the hallway outside their apartment. Smoke pours from the floor vent, and she knows she should have sprung that extra hundred a month for the newer apartment complex.
The fire alarms finally go off.
“We have to go,” she says, and the next few moments speed up impossibly. The air thickens, turning grey and fogged. The shouting grows louder, coming from the hallway and the lawn outside the building. There’s a deep creaking in the floors, a high-pitched beeping in her ears, screaming.
Something outside their apartment crashes, and Rose rushes to the door. Without thinking, she touches the locks to undo them, and her hands come away forming white blisters. She hisses, and Kanaya suddenly looks much more worried than before. She runs into the kitchen while Rose uses her sleeves to grapple with the locks, not bothering to grab anything from inside their place.
Kanaya comes back with the laptop from the living room. It’s just in time for the groaning shake and crash to bellow through their apartment. An oven mitt is around her hand, and she uses it to open the door.
Blasting heat nearly knocks the two over as Rose clutches her burning hands to her chest. Kanaya holds her shirt to her face against the roaring of the fire.
Rose doesn’t hesitate, holding her own nightgown to her nose and mouth with one hand, and pulls Kanaya into the blaze with the other. Only one thought goes through her head. She has to get out, and she needs Kanaya with her.
She has no one else.
Rose dodges the biggest patches of flame as Kanaya nearly trips to follow her. Rose is not the fastest, and not the most graceful, but she will be to get out alive.
There’s fire on the cheaply painted walls, fire competing with them for speed as they stumble down the stairs from the fourth floor to the third.
It booms.
It rages.
The sound of people shouting is completely drowned out, and the sucking vortex of the fire eats all the oxygen in the air.
Rose slows a little as they descend from the third floor.
She trips on the landing of the second story stairs.
Kanaya shouts from behind.
And before Rose hits the ground, she’s brutally shoved out of the way.
The corner of something metal hits her cheek, and she feels the heat of the flames through the carpet on the floor. Ashes fall from everywhere, and her eyes are so dry and her throat hurts so much when she breathes.
Something in the building moans. And the support beam nearest her on the stairs collapses.
It falls on Kanaya in what seems like slow motion.
For a few painful seconds, it nearly seems like she’s consumed by flames. But Rose takes the jump necessary to get to her. The wood scorches her hands as she pushes a few planks out of the way, and there. There’s Kanaya.
“Get up!” she says, as loud as she can. “Push out of it!”
Kanaya makes the most horrible face.
It’s acceptance.
“Kanaya!” Rose protests, pushing as hard as she can against the ceiling beam. It’s half buried in other building supports now, and it doesn’t even budge. “If we push together, we can -”
“It’s not going to move, Rose!” Kanaya nearly screams. And the face she makes next is possibly even worse.
Rose pushes again, persistent.
“It’s not going to move.”
Rose lays the weight of her whole body against it. Her lungs hurt, and her chest spasms, and the smoke is so thick and black.
“Rose,” Kanaya says again. It’s much weaker. The beam is crushing her, forcing what little air she can get out of her lungs. “Go, dearest.”
Rose wants to shout and stomp and throw things at her. She wants to scream and scold. But all she can do is crumple to her knees and hold the night gown to her mouth once more.
“Please, don’t cry,” Kanaya says, then. It’s almost impossible to hear her over the blaze. One of her hands reaches out to Rose, weak. “Just go.”
That small movement makes Kanaya twitch in pain, gasping out shrilly even as her thumb passes over Rose’s cheek. That gasp forces smoke into her lungs, and then she’s coughing. Coughing painfully, each one making the pain worse.
“Go,” she whispers.
Between two coughs that each sound worse than the other.
Rose chokes out a sob, and she hears that - that groaning again. It’s horrible, screaming, like angels wailing at her to move.
Her laptop is so hot as she grabs it on her way out.
Rose runs straight for the second floor window, flying straight into it with one shoulder taking a brunt of the force. It cuts her to ribbons as she passes through it.
And as the building collapses, the fire’s last gripping fingers try to snatch her back in. She tumbles to the ground, trying to keep her arms and legs and head up rather than toward gravity’s pull.
Next thing she knows, she’s being dragged across the grass by a paramedic.
A gas tank in a downstairs kitchen explodes.
It seals the deal.
Rose loses everything.
Her everything.
And as the fire climbs higher into the sky, she can’t stop staring.
She will never stop staring.
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fight-surrender · 5 years
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Six Sentence Sunday
Thanks for tagging me, @krisrix <3 , although I’m kind of embarrassed to post this... :/ it’s un beta-ed and rough. And possibly terrible. 
Rules:
Writers: post (approximately) six sentences from something you’re working on. If you aren’t ready to do that, add six sentences to your WIP.
Readers: challenge yourselves to leave a six sentence comment or give a writer a six sentence prompt. (or a total of six sentences for the day)
Fans and creators alike: reblog a fandom post and add some love in the tags. Aim for 6 posts - or 6 tags. Whatever you can manage!
Here’s the opening scene of my current WIP. It’s just the first draft, so it’s subject to change. Hell, it’s subject to never see the light of day. I don’t know how you people practically fart out 20+ fics, I’ve been agonizing over this thing for weeks and I’m at a whopping almost 6k. 
Baz
I’m walking across the great lawn when it hits me from behind, sending me crashing to the ground and my violin case flying. “That’s a 200-year-old Stradivarius,” you resplendent fuck, I snarl as I roll over to see what’s attacking me. I look up at a huge set of dull yellow, razor sharp fangs. “You’re drooling on my lapels you monster,” I gasp as I feel for my wand, which conveniently has landed just out of my reach.
An otherworldly growl accompanies jaws snapping at my throat. I’m tapping into my vampire strength, pushing its face away as my stupid wand skids further away. Fuck. OK, clearly, I can fight this thing off, but good god, it smells like a carcass.
The creature yelps as something slams into it like a steam train and it tumbles off of me into the grass. I scramble to my feet and find Simon Snow grappling with what turns out to be an impossibly large, impossibly shaggy and malodorous dog.
as usual, everyone I know has been tagged I think. I’ll add @penpanoply @wo2ash @fxandchill
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libidomechanica · 6 years
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‘The lucid outline of other, but right me Touch, they share’
Temper,—all your leave me a mist and men, Its sweetely thy love, nor hope and light of lightfote Nymphes cannot tell; but Blanche At distant had our dead of thou declared and his thrown even in Raiment cuts The lucid outline of other, but right me Touch, they share: (Their heart had not her grape. But I in ae bed, I’m fley’d it mak me from soul began to see Though acts infused; Her must beauty in that’s in her by With amber on. I tend they rang on to preside immortality. Redouble hills seem exceeding, And so longer mix with sympathy: Summer’)s forsaken our Pagan friends. More than all in long as of death, (For so the gale That mischief in flowers to her, but this blood of Shame Because the darkness which did play, and the hill, Or frosty air in uttered from the bed.) Literary leans the rooms of flies, And she won her error, than I could yet to haul up and do not to be you thou, poor Mars his precept to haue, but let us pealed the native shot him kiss me to the truth We shoulder blade them orphans painting tomb. Sylvio, when it grew, so everything roguish een. Lay out of single tears, That we love became wedded grapples cast a helpless knife Carved babe, a wretch, I am shame, and, with ears told: The formed, the two at Conway dwell Among which chariot, makes my chambers of this, now from birth of us, “They move abasement you? For the nose. The captives less bilious—but part, that overgrown And tumbling all the lawn,     Like Samuel from your lives, Their love that to set us no man it foote to the larks, with the burning dawn, And in hand; and I do not if his care Unclosed the rest of a giaour, when you may tender feet have leaves, which shell, Yet, Dianeme, nor would her hath wound As sure won. May ill be; then, And coughed to light gaudy Girlonds, which thy blindly driving vow. S features all day, ” Though a face survey, If Time have been sent me the Soul, And marching, than a girl, She’s spoke by feeding, And my past— And knots of talk; Nothing and consolation, Avarice, Vengeance, but the general whispers talking in the bed. She knew not why, Love or deals it. The fields on flash’d so long. Firing stream: I can love?
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