#sure they’re TECHNICALLY in three different states but when you’re talking about long-distance air travel that’s pretty damn close

[krowfics]

A Spider’s Shadow Chapter 2

Fandom: Warrior cats/Sander Sides

Ships: Prinxiety, Logicality, Dukeceit, (Probably eventual) Remile, otherwise platonic LAMP, familial Creativitwins+Thomas

Plot: Spiderpaw is the sole witness to a murder, due to this, he is no longer safe in Shadowclan. He soon finds himself amongst a group of secret rebels who disagree with the Warrior Code.

Words this chapter: 2643

Notes: Mentions of death and blood, self deprecation, unsympathetic/morally gray Janus, panic attacks, flashbacks, hunting

Chapter 1

~~~

Spiderpaw stopped to see a river in front of him, where was he? He didn’t know but there was something soothing about just walking and thinking, so he bunched up his hind legs and leapt over the steady flow of water seeping into the lake. He managed to pass with it only getting his paws wet, he wasn’t the best at pouncing.

He loved clan life, even if he was distant at times, he didn’t want to be a loner, or worse, a kittypet. But what was left for him in Shadowclan? Clan life, of course, but his mother had just joined his father and littermates in Starclan and his mentor was a murderer. His fellow apprentices were nothing but mean to him and the warriors weren’t much better. The elders had made it clear that he should’ve become a medicine cat, assuming he couldn’t fight as well because of his small body, not that they were wrong. He scoffed at that at the time but now his own inability to fight hurt him much more to think about. If he was bigger, if he was stronger, if he could fight, he would’ve been able to kill Snakeface before he could even let out a hiss.

He stomped forward and into something wet, he hissed as he was forced out of his thoughts by the stream trickling into the lake beside him. He smelled the air. Thunderclan. How far had he traveled? He looked up, he’d certainly left the pine forest but he hadn’t reached Thunderclan's oak trees yet, so why did he smell Thunderclan? He stepped toward the territory and was overwhelmed with a disgusting mix of Riverclan and Windclan, drowning out the scent of Thunderclan completely. In the distance, he could see a twoleg structure, he guessed it was Horseplace from what his clanmates had told him.

He was right on the border of the two clans. He’d walked right past Riverclan and passed the gathering island as well. He’d planned on going to Riverclan. He wasn’t sure why though, would he tell them what happened? Would they believe him? Why was there scent of Thunderclan?

He stepped forward, breathing deep and nearly gagging at the marking’s scent, but he was able to pick up the Thunderclan scent again, just barely. He followed it into Riverclan territory, grimacing as the ground beneath him was wet. Was all Riverclan territory wet like this? It was a disgusting feeling to have to walk on, but he continued on, following the border scents, he lost and found the Thunderclan scent a few times but eventually heard meowing.

No longer needing to focus on smelling, he stepped toward the voices. There were at least two cats mewing happily and laughing. After a moment, he’d heard a third more reserved meow, but it sooned joined in, chuckling at something one of the others said.

Spiderpaw stepped around a shrub that stunk of Riverclan and peered at the cats. As he heard, there were three, he recognized the first two, likely from the one gathering he went to, but gasped at the familiarity of the third. “Lionpaw.” he breathed.

All three cats practically jumped out of their pelts, turning to stare at the unwanted guest with pure fear. But then Lionpaw’s eyes widened, “Spiderpaw!” He exclaimed, almost running forward, “And you weren’t at the last gathering,” The ginger stated, “It’s Lionbright now!”

“Congratulations!” Spiderpaw grinned, instantly temporarily forgetting his woes. Lionbright was his only friend outside of Shadowclan, well really only friend in general, despite having only met one night. When Starkpaw and Talonpaw ditched him at his first and only gathering, only to insult him to the other clans’ apprentices, Lionbright defended him before they’d even met. He then spent the rest of the night with Spiderpaw, talking together after the leaders’ announcements had ended. Lionbright had said it was a sign, not that he’d have any of the medicine cat training to understand a sign, that Starclan had allowed the gathering to continue even though every cat thought it would end early due to Skyclan and Shadowclan’s arguing again. A sign from Starclan that Lionbright and Spiderpaw were meant to be friends. He thought it was silly and impossible for such a thing to happen, but now, he almost believed that it was a sign.

“What are you doing here?” A much more serious voice said from behind his friend.

“Don’t be rude, Riverberry.” The cream cat next to him mewed fondly.

“I’m not being rude.” The dark brown tabby defended, “It is a logical question, what is a Shadowclan cat doing in Riverclan territory?”

“Well whatever it is,” Lionbright turned, “There’s no way he means trouble for us, though I do admit my curiosity has peaked.” He purred, stepping back to his other friends and flicking his tail, inviting the apprentice to follow.

Spiderpaw carefully stepped over the border and jumped over the stream in front of him that had widened from it’s thin line of water near the lake. He pawed toward the group and sat a bit away, closer to Lionbright than the other two.

“So what are you doing all the way over here, kit?” The cream one asked.

His ears pinned back, “I’m not a ‘kit, I’m a ‘paw.”

“Frogleaf calls almost everybody kit,” Lionbright rolled his eyes with a laugh.

Spiderpaw nodded, “Oh.” he said, it was quiet for a moment, they still wanted his answer but he didn’t know what to say. He wanted to believe he could trust these cats, or at least Lionbright, but he also thought he could trust Snakeface, “What are you all doing here?” he said instead.

“He’s deflecting.” Riverberry stated but he was promptly ignored.

“Why, my dear friend, we all have one thing in common!” Lionbright declared, “We think that friends should be able to see each other more than once a moon even if they’re all in different clans.”

“We have other issues with code as well.” Riverberry stated, “Most of mine come from the fact that it can easily be argued against and has contradictions. Reject the soft life of a kittypet but that doesn’t clarify much, challenge all trespassing cats but help a kit no matter their clan, the leader’s word is the code-”

“You can’t have mates in other clans.” Frogleaf cut into the ramble with a sad mew, pressing his cheek against the tom beside him.

“Exactly. I’ve never even heard the warrior code specify not to have mates in other clans, just that our loyalty must be to our own clan first and foremost as we may see our friends in battle, but every leader believes that this means no mates, and because their word is the rules, we have to suffer.”

“Are you saying you’d fight me?” Frogleaf gave a mock shocked gasp.

“Are you saying you wouldn’t?” The serious cat teased back. The two stared at each other for a moment but soon the cream cat was pinning the other down and the two began fighting like kittens.

“I swear, sometimes I feel like a bird’s third wing.” Lionbright laughed at his friends, “How about you? Why’re you here?”

“I was…” Spiderpaw’s mouth was dry, these cats trusted him with information that would surely get them punished if they were found out, he should be able to trust them. He fought to keep his pelt from prickling, he didn’t trust them, “I was taking a walk by the lake when I smelled Thunderclan.” That was technically true. He bit his lip, Snakeface was the one who taught him to avoid the truth like that whenever he was in trouble. They can’t get mad at you for lying if you never technically lie.

“Oh,” Lionbright said, “I didn’t expect anybody to be on lake shore, I was a bit careless.” He sighed, “Well, luckily it was you and not some other cat. I assume you’re not going to tell anybody about this?” He asked, though the answer was clear.

“Not unless I wanna get in a lot of trouble myself.” More trouble than the others could probably fathom, considering he’d have to go and tell a murderer that he’d broken the rules. Lionbright laughed at that, he laughed a lot, the sound put the anxious apprentice’s beating heart at ease. 

The four spoke about everything and nothing. Lionbright had told a story about how he witnessed a squirrel falling out of a tree earlier that day, making itself remarkably easy to catch. Frogleaf talked about how the elders in Riverclan had let their medicine cat apprentice hideout in their den for a nap when he was supposed to be finding birch sap and that Frogleaf covered for him by finding the birch sap himself. Spiderpaw mentioned that the other apprentices stuck him on tick duty again that day. Riverberry reported that his mother was having a second litter, and though he didn’t sound that excited, the others could tell that he was.

Long after Spiderpaw had allowed himself to completely ignore the horrid situation that led to him being there, Riverberry stood suddenly, “We should head back now.”

“Ugh, but it hasn’t been that long.” Lionbright whined.

“It has, unfortunately. We need time to start on our hunt.” He said matter of factly, he turned his attention to the apprentice, “I advise you to hunt as well and perhaps fall into a patch of garlic if you need a stronger scent to cover ours.”

Lionbright’s nose wrinkled at the suggestion, “You have rats in Shadowclan, right?” Spiderpaw nodded, “Just catch one of those and I’m sure your scent will be covered.” Spiderpaw nodded again, biting his tongue on the fact that he wasn’t that much bigger than a rat himself and that they tasted really bad.

Frogleaf pressed his side to Riverberry’s, a solemn expression on his muzzle. Riverberry leaned over and rested his chin on the other cat’s head.

“We’ll take our leave first.” Lionbright said, nudging Spiderpaw to follow him.

“Bye, kits.” Frogleaf purred.

“We’ll discuss our next meeting at the gathering, try not to get in trouble before then.”

“Will do.” Lionbright said.

Spiderpaw begrudgingly stood, “Bye.” he said, following after the Thunderclan warrior. This means he has to go back, but he couldn’t. By now, the future leader could have the entire clan twisted around his claws, going back could mean death.

He walked silently alongside Lionbright, his eyes on the ground below him. Within the time it takes to eat a mouse, they were within three fox lengths of the lake and the stream had once again returned to a steady trickle of water flowing into the lake.

“Well, this is where we must part, dear ‘paw.” Lionbright sighed.

“Yes.” Spiderpaw confirmed but neither made any move to leave, instead the older tom lowered his head to look at Spiderpaw’s eyes.

“Is something wrong?”

There was of course, but what could he say? That he was soon going to be dead? That he needed to leave if he wanted to survive? That he might end up a loner or a kittypet or another star in Silverpelt? Will he join his kin just as his mother had? He flinched, the vision of Nightstar’s body filling his thoughts again.

“Spiderpaw, you need to breathe.”

Spiderpaw looked to his friend, how long had they been standing there? He stared into Lionbright’s vibrant amber eyes for a long moment and tried to slow his breathing.

The ginger tabby spoke again once he calmed a bit, “What’s wrong?”

“My mother’s dead.” His voice cracked into what was barely a whisper, “Snakeface killed her and I think he’s going to kill me.” He shook from finally admitting his fears.

Lionbrights eyes widened with a gasp, “Nightstar’s dead?” Spiderpaw nodded, his breathing quickened. What was he going to do? Where was he going to go?

“You’re not going back there.” Lionbright stated, “You’ll come with me to Thunderclan and we’ll tell Redstar what happened.” He stepped closer, his tail resting on the smaller cat’s shoulders.

Spiderpaw could only stare wide eyed at Lionbright. It seemed so simple, it couldn’t be that simple. “No.” He said, “Do you know how much trouble you’ll be in? We don’t even share borders, you’ll have to tell them that you were near Riverclan.”

“Nonsense,” he stated, “I go on morning hunt almost every day, I decided to hunt near the lake today but was cut off by the scent of Shadowclan.” He crouched down beside Spiderpaw, “I readied myself to attack the intruder” He pounced on nothing, pressing his paws into the sand below him like it was an enemy, “But found that he was within the three fox lengths from the lake that our borders required. And he was just so scared and shaken up that I had to console him, frankly, it’d be wrong of me to leave him there without a safe clan, so I brought him to camp!” He turned dramatically, “Believable?”

Spiderpaw let out a short laugh despite himself, “I guess.” but he couldn’t shake the doubt in his meow.

Lionbright stepped closer, “It’ll be fine, trust me.”

Spiderpaw stared at the tom in front of him, he could trust him, he had to. He nodded, “Thank you.” He said.

“Not at all! I’m just doing what a warrior should.” He grinned.

They stepped quickly around the lake, Spiderpaw following Lionbright’s lead as he seemed to have walked this path many times before. They stayed close to the lake, almost running in order to get to Thunderclan’s camp before sunrise. The scent around them shifted from the rabbit filled mores to the oak forest, they slowed as the scent of Thunderclan became clear.

Lionbright stepped away from the lake and Spiderpaw hesitantly followed, he’d never been to another clan’s camp before, he’d barely ever left Shadowclan’s territory before tonight. Lionbright slowed his pace and rested his tail over Spiderpaw’s shoulders again, “It’ll be okay.” he said quietly.

“Right.” Spiderpaw breathed, wanting to believe him.

“I need to catch something and cover my scent.” He said, “You’ve been wandering around the lake all night so I think your mangled scents are excusable.” He winked, causing the apprentice to relax a bit, “Wait here, I’ll be quick. I’m quite the hunter.” He boasted.

“I’m sure you are.” Spiderpaw rolled his eyes at his friend.

Lionbright vanished into thick bracken moments later. Leaving Spiderpaw to pray to Starclan that no Thunderclan cats would show up to find him alone on their territory. The warrior returned with a robin soon enough, bits of leaves on his fur that helped aid in hiding unwanted scents, “Nice catch.” Spiderpaw said.

“Thank you,” Lionbright gleaned happily, words muffled by feathers.

The two made their way around trees’ roots, bracken patches and the occasional boulder. Spiderpaw took in his surroundings, it was really beautiful. The way the sun made the tops of the trees glow with orange hues against a swirling purple sky. It was no Shadowclan, filled with shadows and pine, but the trees did a good job hiding the light away from the creatures below, the shadows they left would be easy enough to hide in to catch unsuspecting prey. 

The Shadowclan cat breathed in the air, the scent of cats getting stronger the further they walked into the forest, they eventually came upon thorn bushes that smelled so much of Thunderclan that it had to be the camp. 

He pressed himself a bit closer to Lionbright, who once again rested his tail one the smaller tom’s back. The light pressure helped ease the nervous feeling in Spiderpaw’s belly as they approached. There was a tunnel, an opening in the bushes, Lionbright took the lead walking through it and Spiderpaw entered closely behind. Trying to mentally prepare himself for the worst.

~~~

Lionbright=Roman, Riverberry=Logan, Frogleaf=Patton, the main squad’s here~

Fun fact, i got Frogleaf in a name generator and realized it fit Patton and the next thing I knew I’d made all the sides into cats and now here we are

Chapter 3

Tags! @perfectly-princely-emo-nightmare

[lovemesomerafael]

Destroying The Planet To Save It Chapter 18:  Worst Supervillain Name Ever

Chapters 1-15    Chapter 16    Chapter 17    Read It On AO3

When it was time for the team meeting, those who were sitting around the breakfast table began to filter out toward the conference room on the floor below.  Sam ended up having to double back and get Scott, who was still sitting at the table sipping coffee and staring into the middle distance, apparently unaware of the time or that everyone had left.  

Steve was already standing and pacing, like he always did during meetings.  Tony sat to the right of his chair, a large mug of coffee in his hand although he was already vibrating.  He looked terrible.  Pepper wasn’t there; she had a corporation to run, after all, and wasn’t integral to the purpose of the meeting.  But Tony didn’t have the look of a man who had spent all night in the throes of passion. OK, he had that look too, but he also looked like a man who had been gut-punched.  And recently.

“All right, let’s get started,” Steve said, standing behind his chair at the head of the conference room table.  “You all know about the strange energy signature that was detected in several places around the world, followed very closely in time by what looked like natural phenomena.  We know now that the phenomena aren’t natural.  Sharon, let’s hear your analysis of the documents and notes Clint and Natasha found in the bunker.”

“They were in Spanish, in code, so the first thing I have to say is thank you, Anita, for breaking the code in, like, five seconds, and translating the documents.”  

“It wasn’t hard.  It was like having your password be ‘password’,” Anita shrugged.  Everyone around the table had heard Natasha explaining how untrue that was, but no one commented.  Director Coulson, however, made a mental note.  A natural at decryption.  Interesting.

Sharon continued. “Most of them are instructions for maintaining and running the machine.  There’s a lot of technical description, procedures, that kind of thing. The things that stood out were parts that talked about some “resource” that is apparently part of the process. It’s consumed, kind of like fuel for the process, but it’s also involved in creating the phenomena, directing them somehow.  That part is the scientists’ domain.”

“We’ll get to that,” Steve said, briefly lighting on his chair.  “And the rest?”

“Like I said, the documents are largely technical in nature, having to do with the machine.  Like a user’s manual.  But there is one page, it looks like maybe an introduction to the step-by-step procedures, that’s different.”  It’s kind of a rant, sort of a mini-manifesto, but there’s one paragraph that gives you the gist.”  Sharon picked up her tablet and touched the screen.  “It says, ‘I am the custodian of this planet.  In being a part of my work, you are helping to protect Earth.  We cannot afford to leave our safety to those who commune with enemies who would seek to destroy or enslave the human race.”

“Does that mean us?” Clint asked.

“That’s how Anita and I read it.  Translation is always tricky, but she says the Spanish suggests that as strongly as her translation.”

“So there’s someone who thinks they’re some kind of hero, protecting Earth because we can’t handle it?” Sam asked.  “That’s cold, man.”

“Worse,” Steve replied. “He thinks we’re part of the problem. Thinks we invite invasion because we ‘commune with’ people from other worlds.”

Scott mused, “OK, I’m all about communing with that Gamora chick, but there’s no way I’m communing with a Chitauri.”  

“Oh, hell no!”  Sam winced.

“I’d commune with Thor,” Natasha offered.

“Well, who wouldn’t?” Tony asked.

Steve stood.  “Can we focus?”

The laughter around the table quieted, but no one looked particularly sorry.

“Dr. Banner. ��You’re up.”

Bruce stood like he’d been called upon to give a book report in class.  In his quiet, calm voice, he said, “The machines are built around a central feature, we’ve been calling it an ‘orb’, which is made of some material that’s not found on Earth.”

“Can you say irony?”  Wanda muttered.

“The orbs amplify energy. So what the machines do, in essence, is take in a metric crapton of electricity, and turn it into about three billion metric crapons of a different kind of energy.”

“Let’s just take a moment to appreciate that science has chosen to label a unit of measure the ‘crapton’.”  Bucky said.

“Or the fuckton, your pick,” Bruce replied.  

Sam added, “I like shit-ton.”

“Focus,” Steve growled, and Bruce went on.

“That energy is directed somewhere and converted somehow into the phenomena we’ve seen.  The earthquake no less than the weather phenomena.  In the case of the earthquake, the core samples Director Coulson sent me confirmed that the energy was just directed into the earth rather than the atmosphere.  There’s residual energy in the samples as far down as they drilled.  Catherine?”

Bruce sat back down next to her as Catherine began.  “There have been thunderstorms, hurricanes, and tornadoes so far, all following a spike of that energy, and all with very similar signatures.  They’re not like the real thing in several ways.  They’re destructive, sure, but they’re smaller than they should be, and they behave in ways they couldn’t if they were natural. They come out of nowhere, and they dissipate almost as fast.  They’re also sort of…  fake-looking, if you’ll forgive my non-scientific terminology.”

“We forgave crapton,” Natasha noted.

“It’s almost like someone who didn’t know much about weather was trying to conjure up their idea of a storm.”

Tony rested his elbows on the table and let his head fall into his hands.

“That storm seemed real enough to me,” Joss said.  “I distinctly remember it being enough to tear apart a Quinjet.”

“Yes,” Catherine agreed. “The storms are real.  But if you follow the analogy, most people would know in general how a storm should behave.  They’d know there should be lightning, and wind, and rain.  They’d know a tornado should rotate and suck things up, and that a hurricane rotates around an eye.  But not many people know the details of how storms work, and that’s what’s off about these storms. Then there’s this.”  Catherine touched the screen of her tablet and a series of photographs appeared on the wall above Steve’s head.  

“What do you notice about these hurricanes?”

“Wait,” Scott said with a confused frown.  “Those are two different hurricanes?”

“Exactly,” Catherine cried, pointing at him.  “The one on the left is Hurricane Katrina.  The one on the right is the typhoon in the Phillipine sea.  The only difference is that the fake one was much, much smaller.  The shapes are identical.  And the inner workings of these fake storms are completely banjaxed.  They have windspeeds that don’t make sense, they rotate the wrong way, they form basically instantaneously, last a short while and then fall apart…  In short, they cannot be natural.”

“And the energy?” Steve prompted, leaning far back in his chair with his legs out before him.

“Storms, all weather really, are energy.  In nature, the energy is created by things like differences in barometric pressure and temperature, the presence of moisture, etcetera.  Shoot enough energy into an atmosphere and direct the air molecules to begin to move in a particular direction, and you get weather. That’s the simple version of what these machines do.”

“The earthquake was like that, too,” Bruce added.  “Not on a fault line.  Waves traveled wrong.  Shape of the curve as the energy dispersed was wrong.  The earth shook, but that was about it.  There was no tectonic movement at all.”

A silence descended over the room as the group digested that information.  Tony sighed.  It was time. “Catherine’s analogy is more appropriate than you know.  The phenomena are someone’s idea of storms and earthquakes.  Sit down, Rogers.  You’re not gonna like this part.”

That got everyone’s attention, and because Tony was looking at Vision, soon everyone else was, too.  They watched Vision stand as Bruce had, leaning a bit forward with his weight on his fisted hands on the table.  

“Dr. Banner has explained that the machines simply create energy, which was used to create the earthquake.  And Dr. Mulready has explained that energy can create weather.  We did not know precisely how the energy was directed - ‘aimed’, if you will - to create the phenomena.  As Agent Carter stated, the process involves some “resource” that creates and directs the phenomena and is consumed in doing so.  Thus, the phenomena last only as long as the resource does.”

There were nods around the table.  

“I was tasked with determining what that resource might be.  And, I’m afraid, I have.”

Nobody breathed or even blinked.  Not one person around the table wanted to hear whatever Vision was about to say.

“There is an eighty-seven point eight two four nine six per cent probability that the resource is, in fact, a human.”

Steve looked stricken. Clint spoke for all of them when he whispered, “Fuck.”

“Indeed,” Vision agreed. “The energy is directed into a person, who then simply uses their mind to imagine a phenomenon into being.  We believe that the resource is coached, probably using various media such as pictures and video.  That would explain why the hurricane was identical in shape to Hurricane Katrina.”

“Why would someone do that? Agree to get zapped with-“  Bucky began.

Tony growled, “Nobody said they agreed.  Or that they knew they’d be ‘consumed’ in the process.”

That got another whispered expletive, this time from several of those around the table.

Wanda asked the next question.  “So who’s doing this?  Do we know that?”  

“Oh, yeah,” Sam answered. “We know.”

“Go, Sam,” Steve mumbled, waving a hand at him.  Vision sat, looking miserable, if that was possible for him.  Wanda took his hand and bumped his shoulder with hers.

“Jarman Arias.  We know he’s behind this because of what we found in his villa.”  Sam projected a photograph of a closet in which one suit of clothing was hanging, almost as though on display, placed in what appeared to be a lighted case designed specifically for storage of that one outfit.  

“Oh, Dr. Strange is gonna be pissed,” Scott muttered.

“Right?”  Natasha said, agreeing.  “That’s way too close to his look.”

Joss cocked her head. “What is that, like a uniform or something?  Like Captain America’s suit?”

“That’s what we think,” Anita answered.  

Tony asked, “That ‘C’ on the chest.  Is that for-“

“Custodian,” the entire table said simultaneously.

“You gotta be kidding,” Tony sneered.  “That is, like, the worst supervillain name ever!  This douchebag made himself The Janitor?”  

“English isn’t his first language,” Anita reminded him.

“Obviously,” Tony replied. “Dude needs a publicist, STAT.”

“The cape is cool, though,” Bruce noted quietly.  “Purple. Good color choice.”

Clint snorted. “Thought you’d be partial to green.”

“Focus!”  Steve shouted as he stood and began pacing. “OK, so this asshole thinks he’s the custodian of the planet, and he’s out there creating destructive weather and earthquakes?”

“Can Captain America say ‘asshole’?”  Joss asked under her breath.

“He just did,” Bucky whispered back.

“Why?”  Steve continued.  “Why would he do that?  How does that protect the planet?”

Bucky answered, “Seems pretty obvious, Steve.  He’s trying to protect the planet from invasion, right?  He doesn’t have weapons, and he knows he can’t outgun us, anyway, if we were on the side of the invaders.  So he builds a system to create weapons we can’t fight.”  

Steve nodded and heaved a great sigh.  “Yeah. Yeah, I think you’re right.”

For a few moments, no one spoke.  Finally, Tony launched himself out of his chair.  “Welp, on that cheery fucking note, who’s ready for a break?”

Apparently, everyone was, because they all pushed their chairs back and stood.  

“Meet back here in fifteen,” Steve called out.  The only person who responded was Bucky, who muttered, “Got it, Cap” out of long, ingrained habit.  Everyone else simply went their own way.  For the first year or so, the fact that his orders were only verbally acknowledged about half the time had driven Steve nuts.  One of the countless reasons he was grateful to have Bucky back was that now at least someone always responded, to let him know he’d actually spoken.  But he’d learned to let it go, because although they didn’t acknowledge him, he knew that, without exception, every member of the team would be back in their seats fifteen minutes from now.  

Steve wandered over to a credenza along one wall where coffee service had been laid out.  Tony was just finishing filling his cup. Steve knew he’d drink at least two during the break, and bring another back to the table with him.

“You OK?”  Steve asked, putting his hand on Tony’s shoulder.

“You know, I’ll fight sentient earthworms any day of the week, but this shit, sacrificing people like that?  That’s seriously fucked up.”

“I know.  We’ll stop him, Tony.  We’ve put it together now.  All we need is a plan, and that’s what we’ll work on next.”

“We’re not just gonna flip this guy the finger, Cap.  This motherfucker goes down.”

Steve nodded, meeting Tony’s challenging gaze.  “We’ll get him.”

Tony lifted his cup to his lips as he turned away.

“Hey.”

He turned back to Steve.

“This one is big.  I’m glad we’re together on this.”

Tony skipped a beat.  “I don’t need you to blow smoke up my skirt, Rogers.”

“It’s only blowing smoke if I don’t mean it.”

“Yeah, all right.” Tony sighed and turned away again, muttering.  “You’re still an asshole.”

Steve grinned.  

 Wanda and Joss found themselves side by side, walking the hallway to stretch their legs.  

“You have a nice walk last night?”  Wanda asked.

“Yeah.  It felt good to get out.  Reminded me I’m way overdue for a workout.  It’s been a weird couple of weeks.”

“You get used to weird around here.”

“I guess so.  Robot armies?”

Wanda shrugged.  “It’s the job.  So you and Bucky…?”

Joss didn’t say anything to that.

“OK, none of my business. I get it.”

“No, no, Wanda, that’s not it.  It’s just… Me and Bucky nothing.”

“Well, get after it, girl!”

“Not gonna happen,” Joss sighed.

“Why not?  I’m not imagining all that heat between you two. Don’t tell me you’re not interested.”

“Oh, trust me, that’s not the problem.  He’s pretty much every dream I ever had.  I get the feeling that once I let him into my heart, he’d stay there.  The problem is he’s…  Bucky Barnes.  And I’m nobody.  I don’t think he’d stay interested for long.  And there I’d be, with the worst case of ‘the one who got away’ in recorded history.”

Wanda stopped walking and stood, hands on hips, staring at Joss.  The scowl on her face said clearly that, if there’d been a truck nearby, Joss would probably need to duck.  

“What?”  Joss asked, confused.

“I get that you haven’t known him long, but let me tell you something.  If that’s what you think of Bucky, then I agree.  You should keep your distance.  Because he seriously does not deserve that.”

“I…  Said that I think he’s-“

“Shallow? Insincere?  A womanizer?”  Wanda spat. “Yeah.  I heard you.”

“No!  I didn’t mean it like that at all!  The problem is me. I’m so ordinary, and he’s-“

“Look, Joss, I like you. I thought we were sorta becoming friends.  So I’m gonna give you the benefit of the doubt and believe you didn’t mean it like that. But I can guarantee you, if I heard it like that, so did Bucky.”

Joss stood, stunned, instantly seeing that Wanda was right.  No wonder he had been so angry with her the day before!  Oh, no.  She suddenly saw how incredibly unfair she’d been to Bucky, who had treated her like a princess since the moment they’d met.  In fact, he’d continued to treat her that way even after she’d essentially called him a sleazebag. Memories of his good-night hug from the night before had been distracting her from the meeting all morning. How the hell had he managed to make himself hug her when she’d treated him like garbage?

When they returned to the conference room, Joss was immediately aware of Bucky standing just outside, laughing with Sam and Clint.  She saw him look at her and the small smile he gave her made her want to hide in shame.  She made herself return it anyway.

Once the group had begun to seat themselves again, Bucky took his place next to Joss and looked closely at her.  

“Everything OK?”  He asked softly.  

Joss felt the concern in his voice as an actual, physical pain in her chest.  She looked into his grey-blue eyes and tried to hold back a tear. “Yeah, I just need to tell you something after this.”

Steve began to speak at that moment, and the meeting resumed.  They ate a working lunch right where they were at the conference room table, planning, arguing, suggesting, and tweaking until by late afternoon, they finally had the rough outlines of a plan.

When the meeting was over, most of the team went to the gym floor.  Those who didn’t went to the pool and spa floor, which was just under the roof. Since Bucky went to the gym and Joss went to the pool, they didn’t have a chance to talk even after the meeting was over.  

 At first, Clint thought that Natasha must be swimming laps with the others, since she hadn’t been in the gym.  But when everyone had finished their workouts and sparring, and were leaving to shower before whatever dinner plans they had, Clint went up to the pool floor to find she wasn’t there, either.  

He didn’t know what made him check the roof, rather than her apartment.  Whatever had prompted the instinct, it was a good one, because she was there, standing stock-still looking out over the city.  He knew that she was aware of him behind her; she was too good a spy not to be.  Still, she didn’t turn around.

“Tasha?”  He came to a stop half a step behind her, not touching her. Nonetheless, he could feel the tension in her body.

“I just needed a minute,” she said.  

“Figured that.  I kind of watched you spooling up while we were making plans.  Can’t say I know what it’s about, though.”

“Can’t you?”

He took the last step and pressed his chest against her back, reaching out to place his hands on hers where they rested on the safety railing that surrounded the roof. “No.  I can’t.  Do you want to tell me?”

She took a long time to answer.  When she did, she turned around within the circle of his arms and put a hand on his cheek. He was shocked to see that there were tears in her eyes.

“This plan is too risky.”

Clint would have bet anything, and felt entirely safe, that he would never have heard Natasha Romanoff utter those words about an impending mission.  

He looked at her as he wiped the tears from her face.  “No riskier than half the shit we do.  Putz like Arias?  We’ll kick his ass and still have time to go get ice cream.”

“Even a putz can get a lucky shot.  Or use one of those machines to send a tornado after you.    He could cause an earthquake; you could be crushed by something. And who knows what else this guy’s got?”

“So it’s me you’re worried about.  Well, that’s new,” he grinned.

“No,” she said, her eyes wild.  “It’s not.”

“Tasha, nothing’s changed just because we’re finally together.  There’s no more danger than there ever was.”

“And you’re no less of a reckless dumbass.  That is not comforting, Barton.”  She shoved away from him.  

“Stop.  It’s a good plan.  A great plan, especially the parts I thought up.”

“You are gonna get your ass blown into confetti!”

“Well, not if I have anything to say about it.  I like my ass.  We both do.”

“Fuck!  You’re impossible!”  She began to crunch her way across the roof to the door.  

“Tasha-“

“Leave me alone.  I’m losing IQ points up here with you.”

The door slammed behind her, leaving Clint standing alone on the roof of the tower.  He could have followed her, if he’d felt the need to swallow some of his teeth.  He didn’t. Instead, he stayed where he was, looking out at the hazy sunset and thinking how gorgeous she was when she was upset.  

Even if he did follow her, he couldn’t help her.  Not with this.  This was something they’d been through a thousand times before, in different permutations.  Usually, it happened after the fight, when she’d get in his face, screaming about some damn fool thing he’d done and how stupid, reckless, unnecessary, insert-your-own-adjective-here it had been.  He’d listen, and apologize, as insincere as they both knew the apology was, and eventually she’d yell herself out, dissipating the fear that was the real problem.  Sometimes, like now, she’d stalk off, saying that she needed to get away from his stupid face, or that she was going somewhere with fewer idiots, or something along those lines.

The first few times, he’d tried to follow her, wanting to stay with her until she’d forgiven him. It hadn’t taken him long to learn that wouldn’t work.  He’d followed her once, just to see where she went and what she did when she stormed off after one of these blow-ups.  

It was a mistake he’d never make again.  

They’d been in Rome, staying in a massive townhouse with several other team members, and he’d had no trouble following her, jumping nimbly from rooftop to rooftop as she stumbled blindly through the narrow alleyways of the neighborhood until she found a small, dark space between two ancient buildings.  She leaned her head against it and, from where he watched, he could see that she was holding her arms tightly across herself, gasping for breath as though panicked.  She shook so violently he could see it from the rooftop.  She stood like that for a long time, finally allowing her terror free rein, before finally calming enough to turn her back to the stucco wall of one of the buildings and sliding down until she was folded in on herself, crouched in the dark alley.  Her wrenching sobs nearly forced him from the roof to her side.  The only thing that stopped him was the sure knowledge that she would view his witnessing this most private moment as a massive violation of trust.  He couldn’t take the chance that their relationship might not survive that.  

This time, on the roof of Stark Tower, was the first time she’d been overwhelmed like this before the mission even started.  Nonetheless, all the signs were still the same.  Clint told Natasha he loved her by caressing and kissing her, and saying the words over and over.  Natasha? Natasha told Clint she loved him by doing this.  

 Sharon watched Steve as they ate dinner, just the two of them in his apartment.  They were both in the mood for a little quiet privacy after so much team time in the last day.  Steve was different tonight, she thought.  She couldn’t put her finger on it, but there was something about his eyes, and the set of his shoulders, that she couldn’t remember ever having seen before.

“You’re staring at me,” he grinned.

“You’re gorgeous.”

Steve blushed adorably and looked down at his plate.  

“I was just thinking that there’s something different about you tonight.”

“Is that bad?”

“I don’t think so.  It feels like it’s something good.  I can’t explain exactly what it is, though.”

“I probably can,” he said, looking up at her.  “I’ve been waiting.  Just standing back, letting everyone else do what they do, not being able to help. I’m no good at that.  But now that we know what we’re up against and we can finally make plans to do something about it, I feel like I’ve been in the starting blocks and somebody finally fired the damn gun.  Now I can run.  This stuff, plans and strategy and tactics, this I know how to do.  It’s a big relief.”

“That makes sense. You’ve been saying how hard the waiting’s been.  And?”

“What makes you think there’s more?”

“I’m a trained operative, Captain Rogers, don’t insult my intelligence.  Plus, you know, I’ve been studying my target for a while, so…”

For a moment, they just shared a smile across the candlelit table.  “Well, you’re apparently very good at your job.  There is something else.  I had a talk with Coulson yesterday.  He said pretty much word for word what you’ve been saying, about how I need to trust the team more, not feel like I’m carrying all the load.  You guys practice that?”

Sharon smiled and chuckled. “I can neither confirm nor deny that assertion.”

“Well, you’re both right. And today, looking around at everybody, I realized something.  I can trust them.  I do trust them.  And you’ve been right all along.  They feel the responsibility the same as I do.  We all do.  We’re all carryin’ it.  And if I wasn’t here, they’d just keep on carryin’ it.”

“Yes.  They would.”

“And they’d get the job done.  Even with someone other than me holding the shield.”

“Even…?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not ready to put the shield down just yet.  I’m just saying that I’m only one part of a very powerful team.  It’s not all on me.”

Her smile was radiant, even if her eyes were a little moist.  “I’m very glad to hear you say that.”

“Me, too.”

“I’m also very glad to hear that you’re not going to put down your shield just yet.”

“Why?”

Sharon winked.  “Because I’m kind of in the mood to make love to Captain America.”

Steve took his napkin from his lap and tossed it onto his plate.  As they both stood, Steve said, “I am one hundred per cent on board with that plan.”

He drew Sharon to him. He kissed her for a while, then pulled back so he could look at her.  “There’s one more thing I realized today.”

“What’s that?”

“I realized that…  I love you.”

Sharon’s smile was so wide it actually made her cheeks hurt.  She didn’t even try to keep her eyes from filling with tears.  “Steve...”  

“I’m sorry!  I didn’t mean to make you cry, I just-“

“No, it’s…  I’m fine, I’m just so happy!  I love you, too, Steve.  I love you so much…”

She probably smeared makeup on the shoulder of his shirt, but neither noticed, nor would they have given a shit if they did.