aubergines | ( #002 ) FAKE MARRIED AU

Great.

[ shit. ward swallows despite himself, but manages to keep his tone even. it's good fitz is giving him a heads-up. she got him by surprise last time, but he won't again. and he has an advantage, here: the aliens want him here, for whatever reason. they only eased up on fitz because he was with ward (for a definition of "with" that he's really not planning to—) ]

[ the lift pings open to the quarters they were allocated to wait in. it looks... well, it looks like they've given them the honeymoon suite. ward might have to rethink his definition of "with". he gives fitz a sidelong glance. ]

If you're supposed to be heading out of bounds to finish your mission right about now, I'm not gonna stop you.

[ though it occurs to him belatedly that having vouched for fitz, anything shield might have him do is going to reflect on ward. ]

I'm not sure that'd do much to save me. [he appreciates the offer, though, if the look on his face is any indication]

[rather than say that, however, he just follows her into the room and -- and blinks, drifting away from her as she heads to check out the view to just marvel at the room. in a minute or two, he may join her, but right now, he's a little hung up on the overall decadence of the room. this is way above anything he would have been able to afford, even before the Hulk. this is way above anything he did manage, the few times he and Betty managed to get away for a weekend on their own]

It's -- [he shakes his head, almost stunned] -- yeah.

[Chloe notices that he's watching, and she's considerate enough to undo the tie again and start over at a slower pace, hopefully so he can learn it himself. It's amazing, the things you're taught growing up in nobility.

His reassurance earns a small smile.]

Your kindness is appreciated -- I'm grateful.

[Catching herself, she colors slightly as well. Defaulting back to "proper speech" hasn't been without effect, clearly.]

I mean -- thank you. It means a lot to me.

[With the tie done and straightened to her liking (after a momentary fumble thanks to those self-conscious few seconds), she steps back and nods.]

All set. You look good. [...] It -- It looks good, I mean. All together. On you.

[She glances aside, clearing her throat and ignoring the color in her face that won't go away. She's made it this far, Nerifes help her, she is not going to make a fool of herself by tripping over her words like this.]

That aside, um-- [no ums, it's not ladylike] --it's only dinner tonight. The Count invited us to the theater to see the symphony, but I respectfully declined, so... it should only be a couple of hours.

[Which, really, isn't long at all to her. She knows how long social gatherings can drag on in the upper class, but fortunately this is a small dinner rather than a full party.]

[ He's about to ask, "How bad?" when the the sound of the screen flicking on catches his attention, and then--

Oh. That bad.

-- something icy goes through his veins at the sight. ]

... I think I just threw up a little.

Thank god, I don't think an apron looks good on me.

[She can cook well enough, but she's got an image in her head of the Perfect Country Housewife and it involves floral dresses and aprons worn while baking cobbler. That's not her, and while she could pretend it is, this is easier.

Which is why she can smirk at him.]

You know, if you wanted to share a bed you could've just asked.

[She's the worst.]

[ At that he nods, then moves back toward the hallway. And even if they haven't seen anyone, he's still keeping his blaster at the ready. ]

Was kinda hoping they were maybe celebrating someone's retirement, or throwin' a baby shower or something. It is lunchtime, after all.

[ She likewise moves toward the hall, taking one final glance back at the lab before stepping out. ]

Aw, and we didn't bring any presents? How rude of us.

He gives her shoulder a squeeze. "You're not overreacting." And sure, maybe they do have a tendency to get a bit paranoid, especially after Afghanistan and then Obie and then Monaco and then him nearly dying due to paladium poisoning and then New York and...

Yeah. She's not overreacting.

Despite himself, he can't help but give a completely undignified snort. As if Tony would stay some place longer than necessary simply because the city was beautiful. If anything, it sounded like the kind of BS excuse Tony would give because he'd found something decidedly more interesting than the city as a whole, or because he was avoiding something that was happening back home.

But either way, he wouldn't do that without telling someone.

"So, if anything did happen, it happened before he could check out yesterday."

[ He smiles a little, despite how fucked up this all is. ]

I'm sure we'll figure something out. Sweet severance package, maybe?

Let's just get them a gift card.

[ Forging onward down the hall, she pulls up her schematics to check their location. The west wing wasn't too far, now, but Kasumi has to wonder--if they already saw a lot, and they weren't even in the 'restricted west wing' yet, what could possibly be going on in there? ]

She nodded, "I haven't been able to get ahold of anyone from the conference to see if he made his last presentation, but I'm pretty sure I would have heard about it by now if he hadn't." CEO of Stark Industries or not, she was still the one people contacted when Tony wasn't where he was supposed to be, even though he had official handlers and a whole PR team that didn't include her any more.

"Sometime between about nine PM two days ago, and check out time yesterday." It was a wide window, but not impossibly so, they could make it work. They had to.

[Her language doesn't bother him. If anything, it reassures him too - because no matter how much he screws it up, she has his back. (He's almost amazed the neighbors haven't commented on his rough speech.) His face grows slightly redder at the compliment, pretending to ignore her (equally) red face.]

Thanks. You look good too. [Wait, was that the right compliment? Her dress is gorgeous, and for a minute, he almost wishes she'd dress like this on the Legacy. Almost, because she looks gorgeous in anything she wears.] Uh, you look beautiful?

[Nevermind. If he tries to find the right adjective, they're going to stand around all day - and he's certain that the Count would put them on his blacklist.]

Only? [Social functions still aren't his forte, no matter how many of them he's been dragged to. Senel's convinced that he's never going to flourish in them, even if he tries his darndest.] I guess... I guess that's not so bad, if we're skipping out on the symphony. What excuse did you give him? ["So I don't screw up (again) and give him a faulty answer."]

[ there's an obvious pause when the door opens and reveals the quarters (suite, more like), a few long seconds while the details sink in — then fitz says absolutely nothing, just steps forward like he's too busy to comment on the decor.

which he is, sort of. he makes a beeline for a device sitting on the bedside table, and a moment's fussing results in a projection appearing on a nearby wall. it looks like glorified skype, essentially, but it flickers off a moment later before he turns the device upside-down. ]

I need a— a thing. Something to... [ everything about this is awful. the fact that he couldn't sneak any tools in and has to make due with what the room provides: awful. his failed attempt to boss ward around instead of admitting that he can't get access to any other room at this rate, anyway: awful. he's stuck in this room, stuck with ward.

he needs to tell the others that ward's here. he tries to pass it off as mission status quo in the meantime, ignoring the anger and the slight spike of panic in favor of acting like ward's presence is just an annoyance. ]

[ To say everything they've seen so far is unsettling would be the understatement of the century; but a quick glance over Kasumi's shoulder at the schematics -- and realizing that they haven't even hit the west wing yet -- makes him think that they haven't even seen the worst of it yet. So Peter speaks his thoughts aloud: ]

You think maybe they don't expect anyone to make it this far? Or that anyone who does gets-- changed?

[ That AU's fine with me. o/ ]

Sam hadn't expected to be playing house with Steve Rogers - or Grant Wilson now, he reminded himself - as part of a mission, but here he was, apparently hitched to the guy. It was going to take some getting used to - he'd meant it when he'd told Fury in that cemetery that he was a better soldier than he was a spy. He'd had no choice though with Natasha and Bucky pairing off and leaving them to stare blankly until Phil - Director Coulson - had cleared his throat meaningfully at them.

He'd been forced to shave off his facial hair to keep from being too recognizable. Though he was less known than some of the other Avengers, there were still enough pictures of him around that someone might realize just who their new neighbor was and put together the puzzle pieces about the blond, well built man he was "married" to.

"Sure thing, babe." Things were going to be awkward later on, but they had to be believable to lure their targets into a false sense of security. Sam didn't mind so much. It was small price to pay if they could get their guys with minimum bloodshed. Not to mention that things could be worse - at least his new husband was hot.

Handing over the box that Steve had asked for, he ignored the suited men still watching them though he was acutely aware of their positions. Instead, he glanced back over at the things they still needed to get into their new apartment, hands on his hips and a resigned but still vaguely amused expression on his face.

"Man, when did we even get this much stuff? I don't even think we got anywhere near this much as wedding presents. We should've recruited some of the others to help out here. We could have paid them back with pizza and shitty beer or something."

Out of the corner of his eye, the men muttered to each other, shaking their heads before moving on, disappearing around the corner. Sam knew better than to relax his guard. It was always possible that someone else was watching them where they couldn't see, trying to see if the new additions to the neighborhood were a threat.

[ The end of the hall, as it turns out, is their ticket into the west wing. This door is appropriately plastered with RESTRICTED ACCESS and AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY signs, but a cursory look through a nearby console on Kasumi's part reveals their transmitter will do just fine for getting them in.

For a moment, she thinks, I hope getting out will be this easy before turning to Peter. ]

West wing is right through here. You ready, partner?

[Her heart hammers in her chest, and as comforting as Gale's words are, remembering first watching him in the Games and then having him me for her when she volunteered herself in place of her sister. She can't do this here. She pushes away from him, feeling the audience and the cameras pressing in on her. She doesn't look at Caesar or anyone really. She can't breathe, and she just needs out. Katniss pulls on her mic and moves off stage, just needing a moment before everything starts to crash down around her.

It didn't matter if Gale said she'd make it through. Could she even survive doing what needs to be done again? How often did she wake with nightmares? A hand sweeps through her hair as she leans into the wall. Haymitch is trying to say something but she just pushes him away and tries to walk down the hall. She doesn't get far before it all just hits her and she nearly collapses on the spot.]

I can't... I can't do this...

[ He doesn't quite hesitate, but there is a thoughtful second where he doesn't say anything. And then he pulls out his second blaster. Just in case. ]

Born ready, partner.

[ Trust that if there is any opening for Jack to have a terrible reaction, he's going to do just that. There's a lot about himself and about his past that he doesn't like to discuss, and certainly doesn't like being thrown back in his face in the loosest or most literal sense of the word itself. His past is no one's business. If Jack is honest, he doesn't even want his past to be his business. Forgetting the trials he went through, or the terrible choices he made, or any of the bitter, bad things that rest just beyond the horizon of his memories, is definitely his preference. But, unfortunately, he knows things don't exactly work out that way. He's being forced to face all of his demons now, whether he likes it or not.

It does, of course, give him mind to wonder if Brock is meant to do this to him. Force him into personal reflection and make the attempt to right any of the wrongs inside the cobwebs of his mind. He's having a difficult time with it, however, and more often than not, winds up getting irrationally angry and down right vicious with Brock sometimes. Perhaps the strangest thing from that is that Brock still hasn't turned away from him. He just accepts that Jack is this way, sometimes feeds into the anger, sometimes throws it right back, and sometimes — like now — he soothes it like a balm.

This wasn't how things were supposed to be. (Or maybe they were, but that also requires an amount of personal reflection that Jack isn't quite ready for, either.)

The moment Brock starts speaking, Jack knows he's not going to want to hear this. Not that he's expecting something bad, but he knows it's something raw and unfiltered — just how Brock is. So, when the request comes, Jack doesn't look up. Not yet. He's not really ready for what he might see there waiting for him. Already this mission is making him feel weird and strange things, putting thoughts inside of his head that have no business being there, and the last thing he wants to do is see those things reflected in Brock's eyes.

But, he looks. He looks because Jack's been unable to deny himself anything since leaving Gilboa. And though he might not want to see what he suspects is there in Brock's eyes, he wants to know if it's there or not. His mind tells him he has a right to know. So, he looks, and he feels a twist of something in the pit of his stomach, feels the tingle of warmth bloom from the depths of his heart and spread outward over his entire body. The only saving grace of that mortifying reaction is he manages to keep his features schooled into an unreadable expression.

It's a difficult thing to hear, one he wants to believe down to the very bottom of his soul, but he doesn't know if he ever will. As much as Jack puts up the front that he is fine with himself, that this is how he is and there's no apologies for any of it, there are times when he just doesn't like who and what he is. And there's really nothing he can do about it besides just live with it. For several moments he remains quiet, staring at Brock, then shifting his gaze down to their hands. Jack would never say anything, but he likes the way that Brock makes him feel. There are times when he thinks that thinks might actually turn out okay.

Still, there's a part of Jack that can't accept this for what it is and he must skirt around the issue. So, he sighs and drags his gaze back up to Brock's face. ]

I think this mission has turned you into a bit of a dramatic.

[ As much as he'd like for his words to be chiding, they aren't. And that point is made even further by Jack shifting on the couch so he's closer, turning more into Brock and bringing his other hand up to rest against his cheek. It's used as small leverage to turn them toward each other so he can capture his lips in a slow, burning kiss. His movements are purposely slow, wanting to get as much out of that kiss as humanly possible. ]

[Wanda seems not just pleased by the room but entirely in her element. At ease. Happy, even. The view outside is gorgeous, just as expected. They can't really see any of the buildings they'll be visiting while there, so they can't do surveillance from their room, but at least they'll have something to look at when they're putting their feet up.

Turning back, Wanda looks over to Bruce who honestly seems a little poleaxed. Amused, she crosses over to him with a little quirk of her lips.]

You'll get used to it. Just one of the perks of playing part of the happy couple.

[ She responds with a silent nod before using the transmitter. This time, the console takes a little while in opening the door; probably a couple of additional verification processes, Kasumi thinks. Then, with a beep, the console on the door turns green and slowly slides open to reveal yet another dark and ominous hallway with another, already-open door at the end. When she steps on through, she looks around at the hallway and finds something mounted on the wall above the other door. ]

There's a biometric scanner for this room. Though, hmm. It's not functioning? I mean, that makes things easier for us, but... Guess they're just letting people walk on through for this birthday party.

[ it's not embarrassment — okay, no, it is. at least partly, it is: the thought of pulling over the car to kiss him, to make out with him bend over the gear shift or to get out or to climb into the backseat — it's enough to make her cheeks heat up, partly in embarrassment and partly with somehing else.

but she forces her mind away from those mental images. (she's always had a vivid imagination, an artist's blessing and curse both.) ]

That's the plan.

[ a beat. ] We're almost there, anyway.

[he lets out a breath of a laugh as he snaps back to reality, and glances over at her, caught somewhere between amusement and embarrassment] You're talking to a guy who considered living in a sick ward in the slums of Calcutta high society. I'm not sure I'll get over this -- [he makes a vague gesture around the room] -- anytime soon.

[ Peter's not sure if he's more relieved or annoyed or nervous when the door opens and they're still not greeted by heavily armed guards. On the one hand, hey, this job is turning out to be pretty easy. On the other hand, this is creepy as fuck.

Which is why he lowers his blasters, but he's still tense, prepped for action at a moment's notice, should it come to it. He flicks a glance to Kasumi, and in the look are all his conflicting feelings, but mostly it's screaming, What the fuuuuuuuck? But then he shakes himself and forges on ahead. ]

Must've been expecting family or something to join in. Hopefully they don't mind us crashing. I'm great at parties.

Not getting cold feet, are you, babe?

[ Why, no, he's not having too much fun with this, even if the fate of the planet hinges on their not screwing this up. What makes you think that? ]

( #002 ) FAKE MARRIED AU

survey says yes.

no subject

<3!

no subject

i'm only over a week late

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

heheheh

no subject

/creeps back in here

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject