A/N: Valentine's Day doesn't always have a happy ending or at least a happy beginning. This was my submission for Marvelously Magical Fanfiction - Love You to Death 2022 - Valentine's Day Fest this year.
This piece was beta read by Grammarly and xxDustNight88 so I apologize for any glaring errors.
SquarePeg72, I hope that I was able to do your prompt justice!
Happy Valentine's Day everyone! Lots of love to you and yours!
Love always,
~starr
Pansy looked around the sitting room of the safe house and let out a sigh. "How long do I have to stay here?" she groaned, sizing up the space of the home. "I've stayed in caves with more space than this."
"It's only temporary," Sam replied, fighting the urge he felt to roll his eyes. He watched as Pansy walked the perimeter of the room, sizing up her space. Sam knew she had no desire to be trapped inside the same four walls for the foreseeable future, but for the time being, it was the only way anyone could keep her safe. "Tell me what happened to find yourself in need of protection from the Avengers."
"To put it simply, I killed someone I shouldn't have, and my previous agency didn't approve of my actions, so they banished me to the states," she replied, taking a seat on the couch on the far side of the room. She trailed her eyes up and down Sam's body, sizing him up in case she needed to escape. Based on her current appraisal, it wouldn't take much for her to overpower him, but she had been proven wrong before.
"That doesn't explain why you need the protection provided by the Avengers," Sam replied, making his way over to the chair positioned across from the couch. He took a seat and rested his elbows on his knees. "We're going to be here for a while, so you might as well tell me the whole story."
Pansy leaned back into the couch, kicking her feet up on the coffee table as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Who said it's me who needs protecting?" she asked as a wicked smirk pulled at the corners of her mouth. "Maybe I'm here on house arrest for a poor choice of a victim when I came to the states."
Sam nodded his head slowly. "At least we're getting somewhere," he laughed, leaning back in his chair and propping his right leg up on his left knee. "Let's start with an easy question. What's your weapon of choice?"
His plan was simple - get her talking so he could report back to the rest of the team. He knew she had attacked Tony a few weeks prior, but that wasn't the reason he was now stationed at the safe house. From what he could see and what he had read in the dossier that the Director had dropped off, the last thing Pansy needed was someone to protect her. She had been perfectly capable of doing that on her own up until she had been caught. Sam wasn't sure how she had managed to get noticed. All he knew was that Tony had charged him with one job - protect her until they could figure out what the hell they were supposed to do with her.
"A blade," Pansy quipped, fanning her hand out as she studied her nails - coffin-shaped with black on top and the underside of her nails painted blood red. The upkeep of her nails was one of the few luxuries of her former life that she kept up with. "It allows you to get close to your victim and feel the life drain out of their body as the blood escapes the wound. Do you have a preferred method?"
"Firearms," Sam responded. "I prefer keeping a distance from my targets, especially if the first strike doesn't incapacitate them."
Pansy nodded her head slowly. "I can respect that," she said, pushing herself up from the couch. "Is there anything to drink here?"
"There's water in the fridge," Sam replied, rising from his chair and pointing to the kitchen. "Glasses are in the cupboard beside the sink."
Pansy rolled her eyes as she walked past him, shaking her head. "Do you think I would have been asking you if I wanted water? I was hoping for a little bit of the hard stuff - preferably whiskey, but I'll take tequila or vodka. Whatever's available."
"Why would we keep alcohol in a safe house?" Sam asked, raising his brow as he leaned up against the back of the chair. He watched as Pansy made her way through the cabinets, coming up empty on her search. "Tell me what happened in London, and I'll reach out to someone about getting us some whiskey."
"Us?" Pansy asked, raising a brow as she spun on her heel to face him. "Who said I like to share?"
"We are going to be spending lots of time together in this very small, very confined space. You can either get over your hatred of sharing and start talking to me, or you're going to listen to me drone on and on about my days in the United States Air Force. After a while, those stories can get pretty repetitive - especially after I've had a couple of belts of the hard stuff."
Pansy let out an exasperated sigh and hung her head. "Make the call for the whiskey," she said, peeking up at him through her hair. "Then I'll tell you all you want to know about London."
Sam laughed, a broad smile pulling at the corners of his lips. "Deal," he said, nodding his head and making his way toward the door. "I'll be right back; just have a call to make. You stay here."
"Like I have any other choice," Pansy replied, rolling her eyes and making her way back over to the couch. She watched Sam slip out the front door to the safe house and hold the phone up to his ear. She couldn't hear what he was saying, but she couldn't help noticing the obnoxious grin on his face. Pansy was intrigued by the stories she was confident he could tell, but she knew he wanted to learn more about her. She could see it in his eyes.
All that needed to happen now was for him to admit it to himself, and she could persuade him to do anything she wanted him to do - including letting her go. She didn't need to stay in this stupid safe house. Stuck in here made her a sitting duck for Interpool to decide it was time for her to pay for what she had done. Maybe she could convince Sam to run away with her. Pansy shook her head, pushing the possibility of the thought aside. The possibility of a future with him was out of the question. Once he knew the truth about her, he'd probably call Interpol himself.
Sam kept her in the corner of his eye as he stood on the porch, waiting for someone at Stark Industries to pick up the phone. She had made her way back to the couch and seemed to be looking at something through the window. It took him a moment to realize that she was watching him. He felt a shiver run down his spine as her eyes met his, holding each other's gaze for a few moments.
"Damn it," Sam whispered to himself as Tony answered the phone.
"Damn it, what?" Tony asked quickly. "You didn't lose her already, did you?"
"What?" Sam asked, taking a moment to replay Tony's words in his mind. "No, I didn't lose her. Why the hell would you say that?"
"You answered the phone saying damn it, so I just assumed that I should have sent someone else to keep an eye on her," Tony replied; the panic in his voice had subsided a small amount. "Why are you calling?"
"We need some whiskey," Sam replied, turning his back to the window. If he kept staring at her, he knew he'd say something to Tony that he would regret.
"Why do you need whiskey?" Tony said. "You are just supposed to keep an eye on her, not get drunk."
"We aren't going to get drunk," Sam replied, shaking his head. "She agreed to tell me what happened in London if I got something stronger than water in the safe house. So are you going to get someone to bring some out here, or should I leave her by herself to go get it?"
"Tell me why you said damn it when you answered the phone first," Tony said. "Then I'll get Steve to bring you some whiskey."
Sam could hear the amusement in his voice and rolled his eyes. "I just realized something a second before you picked up the phone."
"What did you realize?" Tony insisted. "If you don't tell me now, I'll send Bucky to get it out of you instead of Rogers."
"It's nothing, Tony," Sam said, taking a deep breath as he turned back around to look at Pansy through the window. His heart skipped a beat as a smile pulled at his lips.
"You're lying," Tony insisted. Sam could hear him shaking his head through the phone and opening his mouth to reply, but stopped when Tony spoke again. "Just be careful, Wilson. She's dangerous, and Steve's on his way with the whiskey."
"Thanks, Tony," Sam replied, lowering the phone from his ear for a moment before bringing it back up. "I will."
Sam hung up the phone and looked around at the land surrounding the safe house. Tony couldn't have picked a more beautiful spot, although it was a little too secluded for safety's sake. Regardless of that, Sam was proud to call it home for as long as it took to help Pansy out. As she crossed his mind, a smile pulled at his lips. He was royally fucked if this didn't play out according to plan - not that he had a plan, to begin with. Before he could allow himself to get too distracted by the thoughts of her raven hair entangled in his fist and her luscious lips pressed against his, Steve was making his way up the steps of the safe house porch.
"Here's the whiskey you ordered," Steve said, handing the bottle over to Sam. He looked past him through the window and noticed Pansy sitting on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. "She looks harmless."
"According to Tony, she's anything but," Sam replied, shaking his head as he followed Steve's line of sight. "I should probably get back in there. Thanks for this."
"You're welcome," Steve replied, patting a hand on Sam's back. "Be careful in there."
Sam rolled his eyes and made his way back into the house, laughing when Pansy jumped up from the couch and made her way quickly over to the kitchen to grab two glasses. She set them on the island and waited for Sam to open the bottle. He poured each of them half a glass and slid one over to her.
Pansy picked up the glass and downed the amber liquid quickly with a smirk before setting her glass down in front of him. "Fill her up."
Sam obliged and watched as she repeated the process three more times. After the fifth belt of whiskey, she finally began just to sip the next one. "I think you might have a drinking problem," he teased.
"Or you have a problem with my drinking," Pansy replied, raising her brow at him as she watched him over the rim of her glass. "The last person who had a problem with my drinking ended up with a blade to his neck."
Sam choked on his drink. He slowly set the glass down on the table and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Did he live to tell the tale?"
Pansy shrugged her shoulders. "Not sure. He was alive when I left London, but I'm sure it wasn't for long. Interpol was looking for him concerning a mass-murdering spree. Since I was the last person to be seen with him, they are probably still looking for me too."
Sam nodded his head slowly. He looked her up and down for a moment, trying to decide if he believed her or if she was just trying to startle him. He couldn't get a read on her, and that bothered him. Normally, all Sam needed was five minutes alone in a room with someone, and he knew exactly what they were thinking. With Pansy, Sam was left with nothing - and it wasn't like she was willing to give up any information either.
"Is that why you left London?" he asked, slowly sipping from his glass.
Pansy nodded her head slowly. "And when I ran into your boss, Stark, I might have had some blood on my hands. Onlookers thought it was his - truth is, it didn't belong to Tony."
"Who did it belong to?" Sam asked, raising his brow.
"Someone who didn't end up killing me," Pansy replied with a shrug. "Stark was the first person who agreed to hear my side of the story."
"Will you tell me?" Sam asked, setting his empty glass down on the table.
"There's not enough whiskey here for that tonight," Pansy replied, "but maybe after I gain your trust, I'll tell you the rest."
"How do you know you don't have my trust?" Sam asked, leaning forward against the island, his face only inches away from hers.
"I saw you tuck your gun in the small of your back before your buddy left," Pansy replied, leaning forward so Sam could feel her breath on his lips before she pulled away. "Whatever he told you made you believe I'm no good."
"Well, it's a good thing we've got plenty of time to get to know each other," Sam laughed, leaning away from the island and grabbing the bottle to refill his glass.
"So it would seem," Pansy said, watching as he slowly topped off both of their glasses. She reached out and grabbed her glass with a smile. "Thanks."
"Before you down that one too," Sam laughed, reaching out to touch her arm. The warmth of her skin against his brought a smile to his face. "A toast. To broken pasts that will lead to a bright future and an unlikely alliance."
Pansy nodded her head and tipped her glass towards him, flashing a smile. If she was certain of one thing, this was going to be the start of a unique friendship between her and her bodyguard - not that she needed one. She was grateful not to be stuck in this house alone.
Sam watched as she finished off yet another glass of whiskey and shook his head with a laugh. At least he was going to be stuck in this house with someone he found entertaining and intriguing. No matter how dangerous she may have been in the past, Sam wanted to push past that and see how incredible of a woman she could be moving forward.
