Hey, everyone! Now, before someone goes bonkers and off-kilter, allow me to explain my lengthy absence. When I posted my last chapter, it was around Summer, and down here it usually translate to bush fire season. So, in the event that I needed to make a quick and hasty exit to safety, I didn't post anything. But, to keep myself from going stir crazy with anticipation and worry, I've been writing out the rest of the chapters (I'm a paper and pencil kind of gal, so no problem) and as of two days ago...

I'VE FINISHED THE SERIES! Huzzah!

With it down on paper, all that I have to do now is type it out and post it, and we are done! Then it's on to season two...yeesh, I'd rather not think about that just yet. So instead, I'll be going over this series, fixing any mistakes and edit a few places. And hey, if anyone's ever on deviantart, you may see this be posted there. Maybe, who knows, we'll see.

In any case, onto the adventure!

Hail HYDRA

"Ow…ow…ow…ow…ow,"

"Chantè, you're not the one who's injured here, so can you please stop that?"

"Perhaps I could, but I like making you feel uncomfortable. So…ow," If it weren't for the fact that there was a doctor working on my leg, I'd throw a pillow at her. Since moving is not a really good idea at the moment, Chantè took shameless advantage of the situation to poke fun at me.

In the back of my mind, I know that I deserved her teasing, especially in light of last night's madcap adventure.

After Mavuto came tearing into the palace to look for me, and our rapid departure afterwards, Thor immediately took to the skis while T'Challa and his warriors took to the jungle. Ironically, they happened in the same clearing not even ten minutes after I fled with Jelani snapping at my heels. Thankfully, the injured jaguars and panthers were taken care of, and Imani's unborn cub(s) didn't show any signs of harm or distress in anyway—which is fantastic, because they're due any day now.

Even though everyone was found safe and sound, I wish I could say the same for myself: I was more banged up than I realized, and when the adrenaline began to wear off I could feel the damage. Turns out that, in addition to the claw marks on my leg, I also incurred numerous cuts and bruises (most likely from when I crashed through the jungle) and managed to sprain my left ankle.

That last one surprised the doctors—only because that was the only damaged to my feet despite not wearing any shoes.

Once Thor had taken care of Jelani, he called help to our location. I wasn't all that surprised that T'Challa was the first to answer the call and rushed to my side—what did surprise me was how calmly he was taking the situation. Normally whenever I get myself hurt, he's entered his 'over-protected boyfriend) mode, which is not all that fun, by the way.

But no, he was very calm about the fact that I ran head-long into danger…again. And that I had injured myself…again.

Aside from the sprained ankle and various little cuts, the one that really concerned the doctors was the scratch that Mavuto accidentally gave me: it wasn't deep like I thought, bit it require some stitches, so after getting a jab of local anesthetic into the area, a doctor set to work putting the stitches in. Something Chantè took a deep interest in the event, if only so she could annoy me.

"I still say I came off easier than last time!" I declared, determined not to let Chantè get away with teasing me too much.

"True: you do not require the more extreme medical care this time." She conceded, "But you still have a lot of explaining to do about why you took off in the middle of the night."

Oh, that was going to be a barrel of laughs, wasn't it? Having to explain that I have the magical ability to talk to animals, and that I made friends with some of the local predators, and that I did what I did because someone needed my help, and lastly that no, I wasn't mentally impaired in some way or another.

So, in a word: fan—freakin'—tastic.

No one said much else after that: I guess some of my darkening mood could be visible to everyone else. The doctor soon finished tying the last know of the last stitch into place before reaching for a bandage roll, just as the door opened and T'Challa walked into the room.

Cue the sinking feeling in my stomach and a further increase in my already dark mood.

"I can take over from here." My boyfriend told the doctor in a soft tone. The other man nodded before putting the roll down and leaving the room. Chantè stayed where she was, or at least till T'Challa gave her a subtle look hinting that he meant her too. With a slight pout, she did as ordered by her king, and finally it was just me alone with my boyfriend—this can only end badly.

"Well, it was certainly an exciting night," T'Challa remarked lightly as he sat on the edge of my bed and took up where the doctor left off, "I doubt many of us will get much sleep tonight." I mumbled an apology even as I focused at some obscure spot on the wall opposite me, waiting for the inevitable 'are you mad?!' speech that only T'Challa could deliver. It was an effort to keep my annoyance from showing, because I know it would cause a lot more trouble than I needed.

T'Challa didn't say anything else as he carefully lifted my foot into his lap and began to wrap the bandage around my leg to cover the stitches, being gentle with how he handled my injured leg. Silence was the only thing that passed for any sort of conversation between us, and it was starting to make me edgy and nervous.

"By the way, Rose, I have been asked to pass along a message to you." He finally said, breaking the silence between us.

"Oh?" I wonder who has an issue with me about my latest stunt this time.

"Mm-hmm," he hummer before tilting his head to flash me that heart-melting sly smile of his, "Zuberi says 'thank you for protecting my family, even if Tamrat and Boipelo will never admit that their daughter was saved by a human'."

You know the expressions 'wind falls from the sail'? Well that was pretty much me, only the wind was all of my bitterness and anger at possibly being ostracized. Something that was perfectly shown on my face, and had sent T'Challa into near hysterics…'near' being the key word here, though I was rather mollified when T'Challa laughed hard enough that he ended up tumbling onto the floor.

Once he had simmered down to a light giggle—he giggles! And it's so adorable!—as he crawled back onto the bed, this time lying beside me as he stretched his full frame and wrapped his arms around me, and pressed a gentle and loving kiss to my forehead.

"Ah, Rose," he breathed in a low sigh, "You do know how to make a man laugh."

"Uh-huh, sure, you're welcome. Can we rewind a sec?" I asked impatiently, "what do you mean Zuberi had a message—you can understand him?" He better not be pulling my leg, or I'll seriously consider maiming him, royalty or no!

"Yes, I can." He nodded, "You are not the only one with magical talents, you know. The Black Panthers of the past have always had a connection to our namesake, and so we speak to them just as you would another person." But—but…but the wha?!

Clearly my poor little brain was having trouble coping with all the information that was being delivered to me right now, so rather than force myself to do something that I couldn't deal with just yet, I simply nodded (dumbly, I will) and pretended to go along with it all. T'Challa must've noted that I wasn't up for much more drama and wisely decided to not push the subject anymore. Instead he pulled me even closer and leaned back against the mountain of pillows behind us.

"If it is quite all right with you, Rose, I will spend tomorrow with you." He promised me, "As I should have done before all of this occurred." Before the wicked part of my mind started to fantasize about what I could do now that I had T'Challa all to myself, the more sympathetic side of me took hold first.

"Hey, I'd have tried to make Thor feel better, too." I reassured him, "After all, he's the one who needs all of his friends around to try and make he's at home on Midgard." Now that it had been said out loud, I realized that I should have been doing to same instead of going off on my own and getting into trouble.

Aside from that, something else was bugging me to no end.

"So about me talking to animals," I slowly began, tilting my head to look at him, "Are you sure you're not weirded out by it?"

"Not at all." He promised and pulled a strange face, "To tell you the truth, I am rather glad you have such a fantastical gift to add to your repertoire. I do not believe I could be comfortable dating someone who was so…plain and boring." The earnest way he said it did make me believe his honesty, but it also made me laugh at the fact that he considers those without someone sort of weird and crazy gift as 'plain and boring'. In a rather back-handed way (to who I'm not sure), he sweetly assured me that nothing I could do would freak him out.

Mind you, I'm thinking he would prefer that I didn't incur any more injuries to myself—as much as I could help, at least.

Now that everything was more or less settled between us, T'Challa pulled a blanket over the both of us, reminding me of an earlier agreement of ours about sleeping arrangements.

"I guess this means we're back to sharing a bed, no?" I inquired somewhat teasingly. The look he gave me pretty much said a resounding 'yes', and brought a smile back onto my face.

"That's okay; I've missed having you sleeping next to me, too." I assured him as I folded my arms over his and snuggled deeper into his arms, "It was way too quiet." T'Challa gave a soft chuckle as he pillowed his cheek against the top of my head, ready to bunk down for the night. Although…

"So…who's turning off the light?"

######

True to his word, T'Challa spent the next day at my side, and the day after that…and the day after that. It went on for a week—T'Challa spending all of his time by my side. Anyone who wanted to talk to him, thereby interrupting our private time, got a look that said 'I dare you' and also promised a painful retribution afterwards. In the end, the only ones who were even game enough to come near us were the servants offering us foods and refreshments (and sympathetic smiles for me) and surprisingly enough Zuberi and his pride.

Whenever it was the two of us in the palace gardens—T'Challa made a fuss about me walking so far, but I was fine if no stairs were involved—Zuberi and Zuri plus cubs would come and spend some time with us. As the little ones played nearby, occasionally resting their heads on my lap and letting me scratch their ears, we adults spoke about whatever topic happened that came up.

As for Mavuto and his family…well, the parents were staying well away, but Mavuto and his sister Amara came for a visit. While her brother was quite happy to let me pat his furry head, Amara was content to sit nearby and watch us. Well, it was a step forward, so I wasn't going to push her any further than she was comfortable with. They're called 'baby steps' for a good reason.

Imanu and Boitumeio stopped by for a short visit as well—staying only long enough to check up on their leaders and on me, plus offer their thanks for what I did—before going back to be with Imani.

"I hope everything goes well for them." I hoped out loud as we watched them walk away.

"It will; Imani is in excellent hands." T'Challa promised me.

"Indeed, little Rose," Zuberi agreed, "The humans have been looking after the pride for so long, we know we can trust them with our young." I guess if Zuberi and Zuri had faith, then Imani really was in good hands. I also wondered how Mavuto and Amara were doing since I saw them last week: I know their parents hate humans, so they might not like the fact they came to see me.

I guess their fate were in someone else's hands…or paws in this case.

We spent an hour (maybe two) talking about what Zuberi and Zuri were going to do now, or where they were going to live, and I was beginning to fight back the urge to yawn or close my eyes. The painkillers I had been given were pretty good, apart from making me feel drowsy after a while. And I mean deep sleep drowsy. Everyone else must have seen that I was losing the battle because one moment I was talking to Zuri about something, and the next I was being carried to my bed by my ever-doting boyfriend.

"I felt that you might sleep better in a comfortable bed, rather than on solid ground." T'Challa observed as he pulled a blanket over me and tucked me in, "perhaps you would like me to read to you?" Because I could never get enough of his voice, I agreed.

I can't be sure who chose it, but T'Challa ended up reading a book called Dealing with Dragons, which I never read before but like now. Th atmosphere was warm and cozy, and being tucked up against T'Challa as he tended to me was as close to Heaven as I can think of—mind you, I have to revise that observation frequently when he holds me, or kisses me, or…ok, fine, just being with him is enough for my needs.

However, I'm positive it'd be an even better time if we weren't smack dab in the middle of reality.

######

"You know, you can be quite the scary man when you choose to be, T'Challa." I observed as a poor servant damn near ran for his life after the dark look my boyfriend had leveled his way. He didn't dignify that with a response, though I know that he'll apologize to that poor soul later on.

The reason why T'Challa was now in a grumpy mood was the scientists working on the Asgardian project thing had a breakthrough, and they wanted their king to come see the results. Of course, that would mean having to leave my side—to me and everyone else I just had ten stitches in my leg and a sprained ankle. To hear T'Challa tell it, I had lost an entire leg and was so traumatized that only his presence would calm me. Men, they can be such drama queens sometimes!

"I just do not feel comfortable leaving you alone, Rose." He fretted as he fluffed up my pillows (for the eighth time in less than ten minutes) and tucked a blanket around my shoulders.

"Then call Chantè, or somebody, and have them stay with me." I scolded gently, "You can't ignore other people, or keep me to yourself."

"Of course I can." He protested and would have started on why he could if I didn't place my fingers against his mouth to shush him.

"T'Challa. Go." I ordered him, "Run along and play the mad scientist; and get details because I want to hear all about it later!" From behind my fingers I could feel his mouth turn into a pout—the precursor and warning bell that the infamous puppy pout was about to be unleashed.

"Seriously, will you get going already?" I finally nagged him (anything to avoid being suckered by his pouty kicked puppy look), "I'll be fine for a few hours, plus you'll have me all night." …

Oh, that SO came out wrong!

I slapped the hand that was against Panther's mouth against my forehead with my other hand and groaned in dismay, even as I heard T'Challa begin to quietly snicker, which eventually turned into a deep bellied laugh.

"Did something happen that I should be worried about?" I lowered my hands as Chantè entered the room, giving her king a strange look—like she suspected that he was somehow responsible for what was wrong with me this time.

"No, just my pride taking another beating, as usual," I sighed. It make me feel any better that T'Challa was still smirking at me, so I smacked my hand on his shoulder, followed by a pillow to his head for good measure even as I scowled as much as my reddened cheeks could manage.

"Go on, shoo!" I ordered him. As tempted as he was to ignore said order and stay, and try provoking any more potential slip-ups on my part, T'Challa wisely did as told and left, with that devilish smile still on his face. Great: if that look wasn't bad enough to give everyone in Wakanda ideas, it'd be enough to make Chantè start on whatever innuendos she had stored up. Speaking of whom…she still looked very confused by what just happened.

"Did I…did I just witness the king actually leaving your side?" She asked, surprising me a bit. Huh, I guess I'm a little too quick to judge other people lately. Wow, I really need to go easy on everyone.

"You did," I confirmed with a nod, "Something happened in regards to the project on Thor's hammer, and—"

"AIEE, no: I do not wish to know!" She interrupted loudly, "There has been enough of that going around already." Tempting as it was to get back at her for a few days ago I took pity on my friend and dropped the subject. Instead I brought up the question of what we were going to do now, to which Chantè had a simple but completely brilliant answer: watch all of the 90's cartoons that she had been watching, alongside copious amounts of snacks.

I agreed...so long as we watched Captain Planet first.

"Absolutely," Chantè nodded, "Besides, Kwame is quite dishy, is he not?" That naughty twinkle in her eyes just said everything, which was good because I literally had nothing to come back with…yet.

And so, armed with a whole stack of DVD's of cartoons, food and drink, Chantè entered the first disc into a laptop to begin our fun. And occasional comparison of certain characters to people in real life we felt matched most identical in personality. We watched more shows as the hours went on (I nearly made Chantè cry when I told her the fan-created theory about the Rugrats show) when we somehow went back to watched Captain Planet again, only this time with a seriously deep discussion about a certain character.

"So would you, Briar?" Chantè inquired. The both of us were now lying on our stomachs facing the laptop, with a platter or assorted fruit between us.

"What: date Kwame?" I asked back, "I'm not sure. Maybe," Even though I was focused on the screen, I could still see Chantè giving me a dead-panned look. "Well then, give me a pro-con list." Now the look on her face said 'challenge accepted', and I maybe started to regret saying that.

"Pro—he's handsome; pro—he's charming; pro—he has great leadership skills; pro—he has a deep respect for the land; pro—that accent? Be still my beating heart!" She ticked off her fingers.

"Con—he's a cartoon character; con—I'm pretty sure Gi has her eyes on him. Well, her or that Georgina whatever-her-name-is." I interrupted, "In any case, your list of pros fit T'Challa just as good—especially with his accent." His beautiful, make-me-weak-at-the-knees, insides-turn-to-jelly, makes-my-heart-race accent.

"So you would not date Kwame, then?" She persisted.

"Probably not." I shrugged, "I mean, after T'Challa, who else could ever beat him at what he'd done for me?" Since I put it like that, even Chantè had to agree with me…up until she tried another approach.

"What about as a fantasy date, so to speak?" She offered, "If you were to be in an imaginary relationship with any character, which would it be?" Hmm, sounds like a tough choice—there are so many characters to choose from, and from so many different areas of entertainment. Who would I go on an imaginary date with?

"It's a tough call." I finally told her, "I can't choose between James Hathaway from Lewis, and Varian Wrynn from World of Warcraft. Maybe Batman, too. Ooh or Van Helsing as portrayed by Hugh Jackman. Or Derek Morgan from Criminal Minds,"

The look Chantè gave me at my choices was either a cover for her skepticism, or she was trying very hard to work out what she alone could see with my choices of dates.

"So…you would date either a tall man with a deep voice and brilliant intellect; or a king, who does everything for his kingdom; or a man with a dark brooding side to his personality; or a man with a wild, animalistic streak; or a dark-skinned, alpha male whose job is to protect innocent people." She summarized…and I could see where she was going with it.

"Crud, I just described T'Challa, didn't I?" I questioned before dropping my face into my arms with a dismayed groan. It didn't help me feel any better when Chantè reached over to pat my head in sympathy or something like that: it only made me groan louder.

"You poor thing," She sighed heavily, "You have T'Challa stuck in your mind for good, I am afraid." If T'Challa and I ever split up—Heaven forbid—I can just imagine what life will be like for me afterwards, and it was not pretty in any meaning of the word.

"I guess that means I'm stuck with him for life." I stated into my arms.

"You say that like it is a bad thing, my love." I don't know who yelped the loudest out of Chantè or me, but the both of us did jump the same distance off the mattress. After we landed on the cushy material, I lifted my head and scowled at T'Challa as he smirked in return.

"When you suddenly appear out of nowhere and scare me like that? Yes, that is a bad thing—for my nerves!" I grumbled at him, and then noticed how quickly he was moving about the room. "Where's the fire at?"

"An emergency call from Iron Man: he needs Thor and I back in New York as of yesterday." He answered before coming to my side and pressed a swift kiss to my forehead, "I will tell your brother what has happened to you, but if you could refrain from doing anything extraneous till your stitches come out, I would greatly appreciate it." And with a small gesture that must have been a wave, he was gone.

"…Did you get any of that?" Chantè asked.

"Some of it, but the rest came out a jumble." I replied the shrugged, "Oh well, I can't do anything for now, so I suggest we return to our cartoon binge."

"Agreed," My friend nodded and put in another DVD for us to enjoy.

"…Wow. Rocko's Modern Life is rather…I cannot begin to describe it."

"Trust me, you really don't want to."

######

Maybe I should have paid more attention to what T'Challa had said—that way when I saw an American news feed later on, I wouldn't have been that surprised. Then again, he said that it was just an emergency—he never said anything about the city becoming a battleground for an all-out war between HYDRA and A.I.M forces. Not even the invasion of Kang caused this much damage! Then again, Kang (thank heavens) didn't have a black hole generating device in his arsenal.

What I found really upsetting, though, was finding out that S.H.I.E.L.D also joined in the fray, only to attack the Avengers. Once the hubbub calmed down after everything, Tony called to check up on me—after he was sure that I was all ok and dandy, he explained what was going on with the super spy group.

For reasons known only to him, Nick Fury had decided to disappear off the face of the Earth, without giving anyone any clue as to what he was up to or even when he was likely to come back. That being said, with him gone some bright spark by the name of Maria Hill has taken over, and she is clearly nothing like Fury. Maria hasn't even been in S.H.I.E.L.D for that long, despite her rapid rise to being Fury's second hand, and as such hasn't learnt many skills like her boss. Oh, she does play at being all brave and bad ass, but let's face it—I know more about her world than she does, and that's NOT a good thing.

Any who, now that Hill is in charge, she made it clear that she wasn't going to give the Avengers the same level of respect that Fury did, so we all needed to watched where we put our toes from now on. Personally, I'm more bummed that I won't be able to visit my friends in S.H.I.E.L.D now without a certain green-gilled rookie trying to get me to join the club, so to speak.

Now for the truly mind-boggling bit as to why HYDRA and A.I.M were fighting each other: from what Tony explained, it was some sort of energy cube-thing that could grant whoever held it the one wish that they really, really wanted—or something to that effect. So it was kind of like a magic genie lamp with one no-rules-whatsoever wish. Because of that one wish bit, it became a race between HYDRA, AIM and the Avengers to get the cube first—the winner thankfully being Captain America, and nothing truly outrageous happened as a result of him touching it…actually, nothing is the absolute definition of it all.

In the deepest part of my mind, I thought that maybe…nah, I guess not.

As for me, I was still in Wakanda—what with my stitches and various sprained body parts—and had my own bit of excitement. No, not the bad sort: the day after the 'Cosmic Cube' incident, guess whose cubs decided to come into the world? Imani gave birth to two absolutely beautiful cubs, mush to everyone's joy and happiness, though Imanu was especially proud of his new bubs.

I was offered the chance to go see them, but I decided to wait until they were a few months older. Thankfully they understood and agreed, though Zuri and Zuberi did insist that I have the honor of naming their own cubs. With some help from Chantè and W'Kabi, I chose three names: Obi, Chisomo and Kwame.

…Yeah, yeah I know—I just couldn't help myself. I blame Chantè for that.

Zuri though the names were perfect, though she was a bit concerned as to why Chantè was trying so desperately not to laugh.

"Be honest—they weren't bad names, were they?" I asked T'Challa, accepting the cup of tea he handed to me.

"Not at all, Rose," He smiled, "I find them to be quite fitting." I can't tell if he really believed that, or he was just humoring me. Eh, not that I really minded that much: Zuri and Zuberi loved the same, and that's fine by me.

After the naming, the doctors deemed that it was ok for me to go back home, on the proviso that I not do any heavy lifting for a while. Something tells me that won't be a problem, if either T'Challa or Tony has their way. The pair of them can be down right devious when it came to my welfare…mind you, something tells me there are going to be extra cautious about my safety; if Maria is determined to have the Avengers become a part of S.H.I.E.L.D, then there's every chance she'd want my brain as well.

So maybe the double (or multiple) over-protectiveness is something I can put up with…I hope.

"So getting back to the Cosmic Cube for a moment," I began as T'Challa settled beside me, "If you had touched the cube instead of Steve, what would you change?"

It instantly hit me that it was possibly the most redundant question I could have ever asked him, since T'Challa would say that he wouldn't want to change anything, or something like that. Hang on? T'Challa looked deep in thought about my question, his eyes reflecting a bit of inner pain. Ah…of course, maybe there would be a few things he'd like different…like his father still being alive, for one.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked that." Geez, talk about putting my foot into my mouth!

"It is all right." He finally replied, turning to look at me better. "In fact, I am glad you did." Uh-oh, this could either be a really deep conversation, or something I wasn't sure I could handle.

"In all honesty, Rose…if someone had asked me the same question months earlier, I would have wished that my father was alive. That M'Baku never left his exile, and issued the challenge that took my father from me." Here he paused to take a deep breath. I shifted my teacup into my other hand, my now free hand reaching out to hold his, trying to send him some form of comfort, even as my eyes were beginning to water slightly.

T'Challa took a hole of my hand in both of his, caressing the back of my hand with his thumb.

It then clicked that he said 'months earlier', meaning that his wish had changed since then, but I wasn't going to pressure him in any way for an answer, mostly because I was getting too choked up about his answer. Ever the perceptive darling, T'Challa carefully removed the cup from my hand and put it carefully on the table before cupping his hands around my cheeks, using his thumbs to wipe away any tears that fell and tenderly kiss my forehead and the tip of my nose.

"But after meeting you, and earning your love? I began to think differently. If I ever did get my wish, and my father lived, then I would not have met you. I would have never fallen in love with you, leaving me to feel…incomplete." His words struck deep within me, because that was my though at many times in our moments together. I can remember how lonely I felt before, how tiny I felt in a world that seemed too big. How I felt trapped in a bubble I couldn't break out of, until T'Challa came and filled my whole world with his bright warming love.

A life without T'Challa was, without a doubt, a life without happiness.

: Dang it, I think I'm going to cry! : My inner voice whimpered. Of course that made me start to cry, which led to T'Challa feeling guilty. Before he could attempt to make me feel better, I lunged forward and pressed a deep kiss to his lips, throwing my arms around his neck to keep us as close as humanely possible. My body shivered as T'Challa wrapped his arms around me, pulling me tightly against him as he lay back on the couch, returning my love with his own enticing mixture of gentleness and fervor.

When the need for air became too apparent, I pulled back just enough to look T'Challa in his golden brown eyes and hoarsely whisper what my thundering heart said every time I saw him, heard his voice and felt his love for me. His face glowed as the words feel from my lips, and as he whispered back, I could feel myself starting to glow as well.

If someone were to ask me if I would change anything in my life, I would have to tell them no. There isn't anything I'd change—the bad or the good—for anything in the world. Each made me who I was, and led me to where I've always wanted to be, and I plan on staying right here as long as I can.

And that's it for this chapter! Give me a few days to have the next one typed up and ready to go.

This is Den saying 'I'll be back, so later-taters!'