A/N: Spoiler Alert! This was story was inspired by Captain America: Civil War.
Many thanks to CapriceAnn Hedican-Kocur for the Beta, and Black' Victor Cachat for brainstorming.
Namaste,
Sunny
Captain America
Civil War
I Still Believe
Six Heads are Scarier than One
New York
Former Avengers Compound
Tony picked up a tool to make adjustments to the faceplate. "Are those her exact words?"
"Not specifically, no. It's the fact that she requested the meal to be at the mansion instead of her office as per usual when she's upset with you, or something you've done, and that she asked me to have the staff prepare your favorite meal."
"Did you happen mention I've sent the staff on an all-expense paid trip to Disney World? They won't be back until Monday."
A hologram of an attractive redhead hovered next to the schematic already displayed. If Tony didn't know better, he'd've thought she was humoring him. "No. I did, however, hire temporary staff to fill in, and gave them very specific instructions, boss. They'll arrive by noon on the day of. Dessert will be something with blueberries."
At the work table, Tony set the faceplate aside, picked up the left hand and forearm of the suit, exchanged one tool for another, and went to work. "What time?"
"Eight. Ms. Potts will arrive fashionably late at eight-fifteen. You, however, must be there to greet her, or she will have Mr. Hogan take her home. Though she didn't say, I got the sense that this is a make or break situation."
He'd believe it when Pepper said the words. He looked over his shoulder at the hologram, shaking the tool for emphasis. "You are entirely too prescient for an AI. Might have to do something about that."
The redhead scoffed. "You've been threatening to rewrite my subroutines for months."
"And I'm gonna get around to it one of these days. Now go, and leave me in peace, Friday."
"I'm gone." The hologram shrank in on itself, and disappeared.
Bellona's Bistro
At dinner with his friends, Cameron smiled through the appetizers, onion bhajia and akaras with red kosayi. He talked, and laughed through the entrées shared with Hill, baba ghanoush and kushari. All the while, he was cringing inside every time the band's pianist hit that sour note. How could he make the exact same mistake over and over again, hitting middle C and B together?
The server had just left with their dessert orders, and Cameron couldn't take it anymore. He laid his napkin beside his plate, and stood. "I'll be right back."
He was in luck. The band was taking a break. He loitered offstage until the pianist came through the curtain, speaking to him in Wakandan. "Excuse me. My name's Cameron. My friends and I are guests of King T'Challa."
The other man's face lit up. "Yes, of course. I am Dawit." He gestured, and Cameron followed him out the stage door where they sat on a bench that faced a small grassy area. "I've never met an American before. You're not at all how I pictured you."
"Thanks. I think." Turning a little toward the man, Cameron worked out how to not insult him. "Please don't take what I'm about to say as an insult, because it's not meant that way…"
~~O~~
The band returned to the stage, and while they were setting up, Hill searched for Cameron. She last saw him heading for the bathrooms. To appease herself, she finished off his glass of Zobo, and ordered another. Applause drew her attention to the stage where Cameron was seating himself at the piano.
"Thank you. As you can see, Dawit has graciously given up his place to allow a new friend to sit in for this set. Ladies, and gentlemen, please welcome Cameron." He waited out the applause. "Our first song will be Alex Boyé's rendition of Coldplay's Paradise, Peponi."
Sam tapped Hill on the shoulder, and she waved him to silence. She wanted to hear this.
There was a short piano intro then the rest of the band joined in. The lead singer stepped up to the mic.
Hill recognized the song as Paradise, by Coldplay. Sung in Wakandan, the tune was haunting, and passionate. In her mind, she recited the lyrics in English.
When she was just a girl,
She expected the world,
But it flew away from her reach.
And dreamed of para-para-paradise,
Para-para-paradise,
Para-para-paradise,
Every time she closed her eyes
The last note faded away, and the room applauded, yet Hill only had eyes for Cameron, seeing him blush lightly at the praise. He stood, and took a bow at the lead singer's urging. When he made to leave, Dawit waved him back from his seat at a table near the stage.
The band huddled together, speaking in whispers. The lead singer returned to the mic to announce the next song, one that had been popular in the US shortly before HYDRA had tried to take over the world. With her eyes on Cameron, Hill let the music flow over and around, drawing her in.
The Cryolab
Even knowing they couldn't really be hurt, Wanda still feared for Bucky as he jumped on odin's back. The dragon roared, and reared up on its back legs, claws flailing in the air as it tried to dislodge the weight.
Bucky worked his way up to wrap both legs around odin's neck just below the skull. His held on tight, tilting the dragon's head back to expose its throat. "Now Wanda! Do it now!"
The knife in her hand changed to a razor-sharp sword. She gave a rebel yell as she ran toward odin. A trampoline appeared in front of her, and she used it to gain the height she needed.
On the second bounce, Wanda swung the sword, neatly slicing through the dragon's neck. Blood spurted in a giant geyser, soaking her to the skin. As she'd done on previous occasions, she ignored the stickiness and sickening metallic smell.
Bending her knees to stop the bouncing, she jumped off the trampoline, and finished the dragon off by stabbing it through the heart.
As the dragon fell, Bucky leaped free, walking backward as the odin's body twitched and jerked through its death throes. The tail lashed side to side, the action slowing, and finally coming to a stop. The creature exhaled one long groan, and died.
Wanda joined Bucky, and they hugged each other tight. "Oh, my God. I thought we'd never kill it."
"You did great, doll. I'm both humbled by, and proud of your skills."
Stepping out of his embrace, she looked down at their clothes. Some of the blood that covered her from head to foot had been transferred during contact. "Thanks. Could you…" Wanda motioned to their clothes; Bucky leveled his gaze, and a moment later, the blood, the smell, and the dragon were gone.
The pair now found themselves in a sports bar. Their clothing had changed to fit the venue. Together, they found a table, dropping wearily into chairs. As if by magic, several pitchers of beer materialized in front of them, along with more food than they could ever eat at one sitting.
When they'd eaten and drunk their fill, the scene changed to a sofa in a cozy living room. Wanda relaxed, closing her eyes, just breathing. When she opened them again, Bucky had turned sideways in the seat, watching her with an unreadable expression. "Something wrong?"
As if he'd only realized what he was doing when she pointed it out, he shook his head. "I was wondering what's going on out in the real world. Are Natasha, Steve, and Scott camped out in the cryolab waiting for us to be brought out, or are they going about daily routine until Dr. Hawa deems it's safe?"
She shrugged one shoulder. "For a while, the panthers stood guard over you. I think they only let me near because they sensed that I was trying to help."
He took her hand in his, and stood, urging her to do the same. "We deserve the night off, doll. How about I conjure up a place to sleep, and we tackle gruzovoy avtomobil' in the morning?"
Returning his smile, Wanda let her posture slump. "That's a wonderful idea. What did you have in mind?"
Grinning smugly, he tilted his head to the side. "Something along the lines of…"
The scene around them shifted once more. The cozy living room disappeared, replaced by what looked like a hotel suite. But not just any hotel suite. This one screamed luxury.
The carpet was snow white, and felt heavenly against her now bare feet. Wanda looked up, and their clothing changed from jeans and t-shirts, to super-soft, fluffy robes and slippers.
a man and a woman stood on either side of the room. Bucky motioned them forward. "While you take a long hot bath, she will lay out your nightclothes, and turn down the bed. Before going to sleep, she will give you the most enjoyable massage you've ever had." The man moved to Bucky's side. "He'll do the same for me. And after a good night's sleep, we'll send gruzovoy avtomobil' to its grave."
"It's a deal."
The woman made an after you gesture, and Wanda preceded her into the bedroom on the left. Ignoring the lavish furnishings of the sleeping area, she went into the bathroom, which was the size of the common area and kitchen at the Avengers compound combined. The door closed behind her, and Wanda wasted no time getting undressed. She put her hair up, stepped into a tub that could easily fit four grown adults without crowding, and lowered herself into the hot, bubbly water that smelled of lavender. Because they were in Bucky's mind, their muscles shouldn't actually hurt, nor should they experience pain, fatigue, hunger or thirst. Wanda's theory was that they heard, felt, and experienced anything and everything that Bucky thought they should.
She heard the sound of glass touching ceramic, and opened her eyes, already knowing what she would see. A crystal flute of champagne had appeared. Reluctantly, she lifted her right arm out of the warm water, picked up the glass and took a long sip. She'd never had champagne before, and supposed the flavor was Bucky's idea of what it would taste like.
When the glass was empty, Wanda set it aside, submerged her arm again, and closed her eyes, deciding to get out when the water got cold. But it never did, nor did the bubbles dissipate. Mentally shrugging, she stepped out onto the softest bathmat she'd ever felt, and wrapped an enormous bath blanket around her body on her way to the door. In the middle of the bedroom sat a massage table, the female attendant standing nearby, patiently waiting.
Wanda lay face down on the table, moaning with pleasure as the attendant rubbed her shoulders.
~~O~~
The male attendant massaged down to Bucky's lower back, eliciting moans and groans of pleasure. The man's hands stopped their work without moving on to another part of the body.
Bucky opened his eyes, and raised up on his elbows, looking around in puzzlement. The bedroom was as it had been before, but the attendant was gone. Then the scene shifted, and Bucky found himself once more in the white fog that swirled and eddied as if moved by a light breeze.
He got off the table, and it immediately disappeared, as did the towel around his waist, which was replaced with his Winter Soldier uniform and gear. A hand touched him, and he knew without looking that Wanda had joined him.
"What's going on, Bucky? Why are we here?"
One shoulder lifted and dropped in a shrug. "Guess my subconscious had other ideas."
"Too bad. I was really looking forward to sleeping in that bed after my massage."
The glance he shot her confirmed what he heard in her voice. Irony could be tricky, and Wanda had pulled it off magnificently. "Maybe next time."
A strong breeze came through, ridding them of the fog, and the chill it brought to their skin.
They both winced as multiple roars rolled through the area, shaking their little world. Going back to back, they raised the weapons that appeared in their hands, eyes searching for the source.
Wanda elbowed him in the back, speaking over her shoulder in a whisper. "Turn around. Slowly. And don't make any sudden moves."
Bucky did as she instructed. His protective instincts kicked in at the sight before them. As one, they looked up to where the sky would be. Beside him, he sensed Wanda's fear and determination, and almost burst out laughing when she said, "Bucky?"
He responded without taking his eyes from the apparition. "Yeah?"
"We're gonna need a bigger boat."
Vancouver, B.C.
The Clancy Home
Taylor pushed back from the computer, rubbing his eyes and yawning. He'd been studying for his GED-he glanced at the clock-going on three hours. It wasn't that the work was difficult, just that much of it was information he already knew. At this pace, he would be eligible to take the test within a week, perhaps less. Still, he studied because he wanted to make his family proud by getting a good score.
Okay, so he needed to hit the books a little harder on English, government, and probability and statistics. The history and science stuff was easy-peasy mac-and-cheesy, as Ryan would say.
Exhaling loudly, Taylor picked up his empty dinner plate, and carried it down downstairs, taking care to avoid the one step that creaked. In the kitchen, he rinsed the plate and silverware, and put them in the dishwasher. He made a mental note to start it after the family had left for work and school in the morning.
His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten in several hours. He peered into the refrigerator, but there were no leftovers. There seldom were, unless he ate with his friends from work or the library. Then, way in the back, he found a slice of chocolate cake with his name on it. Literally. Either Julia or Adam had written his name on the foil cover with a Sharpie.
He carried the cake and a bottle of water to the kitchen nook, and went back for a fork. He removed the foil, and cut a huge bite. While he chewed, Taylor replayed the videos he'd watched in his head. All the information had been committed to memory. In addition to a near eidetic memory, except for the period before waking up in the hospital, his comprehension of the material was excellent. At least he thought so.
When the cake was gone, he rinsed the dishes, and put them in the dishwasher with the rest, and leaned against the counter to finish off the water.
The life he was making for himself pleased him, except for the seizures. He counted himself lucky that he hadn't had one in nearly a week.
As if that thought were the trigger, Taylor felt the familiar stab of pain that preceded a seizure. His right hand began to shake, and he gripped the bottle tighter, the plastic crinkling with the force. Then suddenly, it was on the floor, water trickling from the opening.
The pain in his head stopped just as abruptly, and he stood there looking at his hand. His grip hadn't faltered, so how could he have dropped it?
Taylor picked up the crumpled bottle, and dumped it in the recycle bin then used paper towels to wipe up the mess. He got another bottle, and drank most of it on the way back to his room.
Turning the chair around, he straddled the seat, pulled the keyboard close, and went back to work with his chin resting on the back.
Wakanda
Bellona's Bistro
While the bass player replaced a string, the band members again huddled around Cameron at the piano. The man let them know when he was ready, and they returned to their positions. Before they started the next song, Clint wiped his mouth, dropped the napkin next to his plate, and stood. "Be right back."
He went to the edge of the stage, and motioned the lead guitarist over. Clint made his request, thankful that the man spoke English, and the two traded places. The other man handed Clint a second guitar. He slipped the strap over his head, tuned the instrument by ear, and nodded that he was ready.
"Ladies, and gentlemen, another of King T'Challa's guests has requested to sit in on this set. Please welcome Clint."
The applause reminded him of being at the circus. As a teen, he'd basked in the praise from the audience. But he'd been away too long. Now it was embarrassing. Sort of. Okay, that was a lie. He liked it.
The singer motioned Clint over. "Do you sing as well, my friend?"
Clint waggled his hand. "Depends on who you ask." It was the truth. His wife, kids, Natasha, and the gang down at the Watering Hole seemed to be the only people who enjoyed listening to him sing.
They went back and forth on the song, and finally settled on something they all knew.
He and the singer, Hanif, changed places. Clint adjusted the mic to his shorter height, played a short riff, and pronounced himself ready. "Thanks, Hanif. I'll do my best not to scare your audience away." There was a smattering of polite laughter. "The song we're gonna do is as popular now as it was back in '76. It's called New York State of Mind."
He played the intro, trusting the others to come in at the appropriate time.
Some folks like to get away
Take a holiday from the neighborhood
Hop a flight to Miami Beach or to Hollywood
But I'm takin' a Greyhound on the Hudson River line
I'm in a New York state of mind
I've seen all the movie stars
In their fancy cars and their limousines
Been high in the Rockies under the evergreens
I know what I'm needin'
And I don't want to waste more time
I'm in a New York state of mind
It was so easy livin' day by day
Out of touch with the rhythm and blues
But now I need a little give and take
The New York Times, the Daily News
It comes down to reality
And it's fine with me cause I've let it slide
I don't care if it's Chinatown or on Riverside
I don't have any reasons
I left them all behind
I'm in a New York state of mind
The Cryolab
Bucky looked at her as if she was nuts. "Boat?"
Shaking her head, Wanda moved a little closer to him. "It's from a movie, Jaws. I'll explain later." She pointed the business end of her rifle at the dragon. "Is this really how you see it?"
"Or how my subconscious sees it." His hands tightened on his weapon. "Sure is an ugly son of a gun. Gives me the heebie-jeebies."
Though she'd never heard the term before, Wanda understood the meaning, and agreed. "It's considerably larger than the others. These weapons may not do the trick, unless you believe they will."
"I must, or else why would we have been outfitted with sniper rifles instead of handguns?"
"Or swords?" The chuckled together, the sound catching in their throats when their clothing and weapons morphed into in medieval style once again. The creature took a step in their direction, making the ground shake, and putting them both on full alert. "Let's do this, Bucky. I'd like to get out of here soon. I've got a life to live."
He snorted. "You and me both, doll."
~~O~~
The final trigger word, gruzovoy avtomobil', differed from all the others in that not only was it approximately the size of a two-story house, it also boasted six nearly identical heads, all in constant motion. As yet, it had only made a single movement in their direction, but that wouldn't last.
"How ironic," Bucky muttered under his breath. "For seventy years, I was a prisoner of HYDRA, and now I have to kill the mythical creature that gave them their name."
"I wouldn't worry. We defeated the others, and we'll defeat this one too."
Smiling with genuine affection, Bucky nudged Wanda with his elbow. "Of course we will, doll.
'Cause we're one hell of a team."
"Yes, we are." She side-eyed him. "Shall we go on the defensive?"
Bucky pretended to think it over. "Why not? I'm ready to get this done."
Wanda widened her stance, knees slightly bent, gripped the long-sword in both hands, and brought the tip up.
The wind picked up, carrying the stench of sulfur to them. Bucky's stomach dropped. That smell could only mean one thing.
Three of the hydra heads dipped low, their jaws gaping as they spit a steady stream of fire at the pair. Bucky tossed his sword away, and threw them both to the ground. They rolled over several times, hoping to get out of the line of fire. Ducking his head, he used his body to protect Wanda just as the flames passed through the space where they'd just been, though he could feel the heat on his back.
He lifted his head, and looked over his shoulder. "Too close for comfort."
"Too bad we don't have hazmat suits."
"Pardon?"
Getting to his feet, Bucky helped Wanda stand, dragging her behind a boulder to hide from the creature. She brushed futilely at her long hair, which had come loose, and was sticking to her face and neck. With just a thought, the hair had returned to the bun she'd previously worn, and she gave him a smile of thanks. "It's a full-body suit worn as protection from fire, poisonous gas, or even someone with a highly contagious disease."
Deciding it could only help their cause, Bucky concentrated on outfitting them as she'd described. Yet when he opened his eyes, they were still in their medieval clothing, with swords and knives as weapons.
Wanda reached back, and found that she was now equipped with a bow and arrow. She unslung the bow, examining it from all angles.
"You know how to use one?"
"Sort of. Clint has been teaching me. But I'm not even close to his skill level. I can barely hit the target."
Bucky peeked over the boulder. "That thing's big enough, almost anyone could hit it."
"Or you could imbue me with the necessary skills."
Pressing two fingers to his right temple, Bucky sent the request to his subconscious. "How do we know if it worked?"
The smile she flashed him bordered on a smirk as she nocked an arrow, and stood. She pulled the string back to her cheek, and released. The arrow flew through the arrow, imbedding itself in the eye of the closest head. The creature roared with pain and anger, its claws raking the air as it searched for the source of its pain.
Together, Bucky and Wanda sat down with their backs to the boulder, wincing as another stream of fire slashed over their heads. They shared a grin. "I'd say that was a successful experiment, doll."
She agreed, if her smile was anything to go by. "It's also time to stop stalling, Bucky."
"You're right. On three. Divide and conquer. One… two… three."
The pair rolled to their feet, and ran toward the hydra creature, splitting up to attack it on separate fronts.
The heads swayed side to side, trying to keep them in sight.
Wanda let loose one arrow after the other, and though it didn't seem possible, they pierced its scaly hide, distracting it so that he was able to move in close enough to take a two-handed swing with the sword.
To his surprise, one of the heads dipped low, and he was able to cut it off where the neck met the shoulders. The opening spurted blood, though not nearly as much as he thought it should have.
He was momentarily distracted by the head that rolled to a stop in front of him, the forked tongue lolling out the side, its eyes held the glaze of death. Crouching, he used a knife to poke the tongue. "One down, five to…"
"Bucky!"
Surging to his feet, Bucky ran to Wanda's side. "What is it, moya doch'?"
Wanda's jaw dropped, and all she could do was point. They held onto each other out of fear, and together, they watched in stunned silence as two heads replaced the one that Bucky had just cut off.
TBC
Paradise is a song by British alternative rock band Coldplay. The song was released in September of 2011 as the second single from their fifth studio album, Mylo Xyloto. The version referenced is by Alex Boyé, Peponi.
New York State of Mind is a song written by Billy Joel, which initially appeared on the album Turnstiles in 1976. **Jeremy Renner sings a fantastic version of this song. Google it.
Jaws is a 1975 American thriller film directed by Steven Spielberg and based on Peter Benchley's 1974 novel of the same name.