2 Weeks Earlier
"You're young," he said in his Scouse accent and she smirked. It wasn't an unusual thing for her to hear. Still, Acting Prime Minister Charles Reid's first two words to her were a comment on her age. She had a witty response for that, she was so used to the comment that the answer was almost second nature now.
"As are you. Prime Minister at 35 and a Scouser, it's impressive," she responded with a cheeky grin as if to let him know that she wasn't a pushover. Still, she gave off a slight deer in the headlights look as she awaited a response.
He chuckled lightly "And so the North/South divide finds its way into my home. Or is it my office now?"
"Both, I think Sir," she replied, grinning as she giggled.
"Please don't call me 'sir'. It makes me sound old and pompous. Just call me Charles," he instructed and she chortled to herself a moment.
"Of course Sir," she said before realising her mistake "Bugger. Sorry Sir. And I've done it again. Is there a chance we can start over?"
"Miss Potter, I believe you and I are going to have some fun together," At that, Samantha looked shocked – she had the job already? "My advisors tell me you're the best person for the job. Were they wrong?" he said, eyebrows raised.
"Umm, I think we'll have to wait and see," she tested, almost nervous.
From there, everything – regarding work at least – was easy enough. All she really did was write a few press releases and then brief the press on their contents. There was a bit of prioritisation of political news stories but she could have done that in her sleep. Some stories – the ones that involved intelligence agencies or crime – were more difficult to explain than others. It wasn't because she didn't understand them but because she understood them too well. It wasn't as if she was fighting off HYDRA or rescuing people from the Red Room's clutches but she was doing something and that something did keep her from being completely bored.
Her personal life was something else entirely. Being asked by a member of the press whether or not the British Government had plans to prosecute the Avengers over what happened in Lagos was difficult to say the least. She'd answered with a firm "The Prime Minister has not made any decision on this matter at this time,"
She hadn't been able to get a hold of Steve or Wanda or even Natasha which only added to her worries. The small conversation she'd had with her father only revealed that things in Lagos had gone wrong (which she already knew) and that he – with his guilt complex the size of a small nation – thought they ought to be held accountable. She agreed, were she in his shoes, she'd want the same thing. She wasn't sure that Steve would agree.
Being in Brussels for the Accords Signing wouldn't be too odd, she'd decided. Yes, Natasha would be there but they'd spoken on the phone enough since Samantha fled the States. Reid said he needed her anyway. There'd be journalists whose questions would need fielding, he claimed, and she would be better at note-taking during negotiations than he could ever be.
In response, she'd told him that flattery would get him nowhere but since he'd asked so nicely, she would come along. That was how she'd wound up stood in the midst of a conversation with Natasha Romanoff and two Wakandan royals "Diplomacy is not really his style," the Wakandan King said in reference to his son, the Prince T'Challa, who stood next to him, seemingly embarrassed.
"I don't think that it's anyone's style, but there's no denying that it's a better option than war," Samantha responded with a cheeky grin on her face.
The Prince smiled before saying "Do you have much experience with war Miss Potter?"
"More than you know, Your Highness, more than you know," she replied before they all dispersed to take their respective seats.
"You seem to be getting on well with the Wakandans," Reid said, a smirk on his face as she sat down beside him.
"Meanwhile you sit here and wait for the speeches to start," she said, nudging him a little as though they were old friends "And anyway, they're good people, you'd like them,"
"And the red head? The one who seems to analyse everything, who's she?"
Samantha laughed, thinking that it was her boss's way of admitting to liking the woman he didn't yet realise was her friend "That's Natasha Romanoff, she's the representative for the Avengers, sits with the American contingent,"
"And do we agree with each other?" he asked, eyebrows raised and she smiled.
"She's S.H.I.E.L.D. She likes the idea of the Avengers being able to be held accountable if only because it keeps them in play,"
"Smart woman," Reid replied.
The next thing Samantha knew, she was forcing him to the ground as T'Challa yelled out the word 'duck'. The ground around them shook and, for a second (just a second), Samantha hoped that Skye had turned up and was stopping something.
As the dust settled, however, she realised it wasn't something Skye could have caused. She could smell the explosive scent of gunpowder and as she looked around her, she saw T'Challa crying over his father's lifeless body.
She crawled over broken glass to the blown open window to see a man who looked suspiciously like Bucky. He smiled at her and a chill ran through her. Her instincts quickly went to war with each other in a matter of a split second: Should she dash after him or should she stay in the blown apart building and maintain her cover? She looked at T'Challa, crouched over his father's still warm dead body and immediately leapt from the window.
She'd never attempted the whole 'guided falling' thing before but it seemed fairly simple and it worked out for her rather well as she landed safely on her feet on the pavement. She took off at a run after Bucky. She was quick but not quick enough it seemed. She looked around, the street was too crowded for her to use her powers, not with the little practice she'd managed to fit in.
Bucky just kept on running too but the thing was he didn't run like the Winter Soldier she knew, the one she'd once arrested. The Bucky she knew ran a little lopsided. It was caused, she suspected by the weight of his Soviet-built metal arm. This imposter's arm, however, did not seem to cause that issue and she'd only actually seen his face from afar. Could she really be certain that it was actually Bucky?
