AN: Hey! Smaller update, but still moving along. I had a couple of reviews so far, one from the lovely ILuvCupcakes2000 that I responded to personally, and another from a guest to the site. As far as your concerns go, dear guest, I had never intended for this to come off as a Stony fic. As it stands, I have no intent for any slash whatsoever. If the opportunity arises later and it makes sense I'll consider it, but as of right now it's strictly platonic business. I just flipped the gender on Stark. Nothing else out of the ordinary. I know I said if you squint it could be Stony, but I really meant that. It's a hard squint, and only if you wanna read into it that way.
And for this new update I have to say I'm superbly nervous. Black Panther comes out within a few weeks, and I'm just working off my own assumptions of what Wakanda is like. When I find out how horribly wrong I am I'll try to fix it, but for now it is what it is. If anyone has any suggestions, feedback, etc., just leave me a review and I'll get back to you! It won't be this slow build up forever, and as things start moving along the pace will quicken exponentially. For now we're all just stuck getting through this stage.
Less than three hours later she was doing a cursory fly-over of the palace, questioning herself again on whether or not she actually wanted to follow through on this. It was nothing like the first time she'd come to the country, sliding through the various force fields (that she was highly jealous of) only at the behest of the king himself. Slipping through without setting off perimeter alarms this time was a challenge, but she'd managed. She didn't just call herself a computer whiz for show, after all. She could still just send him the files, hope he realized they were legit, and fucked off on her merry way. Spent her newfound retirement in obscurity on some fancy beach somewhere. But that would be way too easy. Her life was anything but easy.
That in mind Toni slowly descended, timing her propulsion jets to ease and go to lessen the noise. She'd already determined what rooms the king himself would most likely be in, and she'd tried to find subtle paths to get there but… well, there was gonna be nothing subtle to it. She was gonna waltz right on in, true Toni Stark style, and demand attention. It was what people expected from her now. Who was she to disappoint?
The only issue was that, as she found herself quietly landing on the balcony to a private office and looking into the window, she saw a portrait of a young king stressed to his limits. He was bent over a desk, papers strewn about, arguing adamantly with what she could only assume was someone on the other end of a call. It hurt her poor, gentle, caring heart to watch. All the desire she'd had to come in with a glowing halo like a guardian angel vanished, and she instead felt like a more tame approach would be way more suitable. Tactful, even. There's a word nobody every associated with her.
She waited until he stopped speaking for a few moments, and when she was satisfied he was no longer on a call (it would be downright rude to interrupt, and she didn't know who he was talking to and if he'd slip her name to them while he was talking). The armor dissolved back into her flesh, leaving her with a shiver that went up her spine at the unfamiliar sensation. It was easier this time around, but fuck if it wasn't disconcerting. Toni paused as she approached the double doors of the balcony, suddenly realizing she had absolutely no plan for this. Not that she'd ever followed plans, but this was the Black Panther. And he had a bunch of scary people working for him who could kill her eight ways to Sunday.
Well, she was nothing if not brazen, so with a shrug of her shoulders she set her jaw and simply pulled the doors open in a flourish, waltzing right into the room like she owned it. She made no other noise than that, her hands held in front of her, palms open and facing him. She wanted to look in no way threatening, but it didn't matter as T'Challa had jumped to his feet and would've tackled her had she not thrown herself to the side. "Whoa, whoa, same sides! Meow Mix, chill, it's me! Toni! You know, Toni Stark? The one and only? Super not dead, by the way! You don't gotta kill me. T'Challa. Seriously. Back off. I should've knocked, I know. I just have this thing about being dramatic. I can't not do it, you know? It's like an addiction. If I see an opportunity I gotta take it."
She knew she was rambling as he leveled her with the most amusing expression, a mixture of pure confusion, anger, and something else she couldn't quite put her tongue on. But he wasn't trying to attack her anymore, so she took it as a win. "Yeah, see? You know it's me. I, uh, got botox? No, that sounds lame. Plastic surgery. Way more believable, right? Billionaire scared of a few wrinkles, disappears, comes back looking twenty years younger? The tabloids would eat that story up."
"You have been missing, presumed dead, for eight months, Stark, and you are making jokes?" T'Challa didn't necessarily look less tense, but he looked like he was thinking and she could get behind that. If he'd believed her outright she'd have never let him down. It would've been the foolish thing to do.
"It's a coping mechanism. Surprisingly not my worst one," she watched with bated breath as he still regarded her with suspicion, "And the, uh, dead thing? If we could just keep that little charade going, maybe? I'm not necessarily against it, you see? Like, I didn't plan it-don't look at me like that-but I like it. It's… refreshing. I can do whatever I want. No stress. Like make a big ol' rainmaker for some countries that desperately need it within the next couple of months before they bleed themselves dry." She all but groaned when his expression didn't change, shifting on her feet. "Okay. Not working for you then. Wave a big can of tuna under your nose and you ignore it. Fine. How about… it was May, I think? Maybe April. June? I dunno. I don't pay attention to months. But we were working on the Accords, amending them for my shit tier teammates. We'd been at it like six, seven hours, no breaks, and you look at me out of nowhere like you've had this earth shattering revelation except it wasn't. You had just realized that I wrote in an entire goddamn chapter to get Barnes off the hook for good, and others like him. And if my ego wasn't already so big it would've grown a million times more that day, cuz you basically worshipped the ground I walked on for the next week."
It took several moments of silence between them, a staring contest that, frankly, Toni was getting bored of, before he spoke. "I did not worship the ground you walked on." And that was that. The tension broke, and T'Challa walked straight to her, placing his hands on her shoulders as he seriously looked at her. "Stark. It is good to see you, of course, but-..."
"But you want an explanation, right?" She sighed. She'd expected it, had practiced it over and over on her trip, but she still wasn't sure what to say. And she was exhausted. And hungry. She could eat a horse. Maybe even two.
"An explanation would be good, yes," T'Challa agreed readily, releasing her shoulders and taking a step back. He probably was just making sure she was real, but she couldn't fault him for it. "You look awful, Stark."
She snorted at that, shaking her head. "Wow. Not pulling any punches, huh? I thought I looked pretty good, all things considered," she paused, glancing to the door to the hallway and back to him with a quirk to her lips, "What do you say we talk over dinner? I'm starving. It's not good to keep your resident genius hungry. Things blow up. It's awful."
"I'll have something brought in," T'challa deferred instead, reclaiming his seat at his desk and motioning to the one across from him. "If you truly do not wish for the world to know of your existence then it would be prudent we discuss things privately, and come up with a plan from there."
She couldn't help but to eye him warily as she took the proffered seat, crossing her legs neatly and folding her hands on her knee. It was all she could do to not let her leg bounce to show her nerves. "Okay," she spoke easily, letting a pleasant smile fall into place. It was practiced, and easy. She'd had to put on this smile billions of times, and most the time she felt like she probably perfected it before she even came out of the womb. It was the media smile. All fake, pleasant business. "I've gotta admit, kitty litter, I wasn't expecting this to be so easy. Am I really that charming?"
T'Challa's own media smile could rival her own, she figured. He was all good nature as he chuckled at her words. "On the contrary, Ms. Stark. For the sake of transparency," his dark eyes focused onto her own, making her fidget ever so slightly, "I find it prudent to say that you simply do not look like you could stand much longer, let alone fight me, if that were to be your purpose."
Transparency. Toni hated that word. It was what they used way back in the day, when the young king finally told her he was harboring the ex-Avengers in his home. She'd known that already, because of course she did, but him finally telling her set everything into motion. They'd made a promise to remain transparent throughout their work together, and that was probably the only reason they made so much progress so quickly. And also why she, despite her best interests, found herself liking the younger man. He was a good, honest king. And smart. She could get behind that. "For transparency," she bit out, though the bitterness all but melted the longer they stared each other down, "I would say that I could totally take you if you wanted to have a go. But tomorrow. After a nap. Then it's fair game." And that was as much as she would tell him. She just didn't tell people when she felt like shit. It wasn't in her nature anymore. She was Toni fuckin' Stark, and she could take care of herself. Most the time.
To his credit, T'Challa seemed to understand what she was saying and leaned back into his chair, becoming the picture of a relaxed friend. He didn't even look like he'd been so stressed a few minutes ago that Toni could practically see the crows feet growing around his eyes. "What happened to you, Stark?"
His question brought her to a pause, weighing her options. Transparency would be good, but it brought a lot of risks with it. Could she tell him about Extremis? Maybe. So long as he didn't want it for himself. But when do people ever not want what was hers? She could never just have a thing, someone else always wanted it. But also, she was about to ask this man to harbor her in his country, give her access to lab equipment and money so she could build something for him and look into her new condition. And on top of that, she was asking him to keep it all a secret from the world. Maybe she owed it to him to be honest, just one time.
She coughed awkwardly, clearing her throat as she leaned back as well, not bothering to hide the wince as her sore muscles contracted awkwardly. "Right. Well, not dead. Obviously." Smooth start, Stark. She grimaced as the man merely raised a brow in her direction. "Sort of died. Maybe a few times? I didn't really go through all the data yet. The lab I had in the cabin was good, but not as good as I need. Which led me here, obviously. And I do want to help with the ongoing crisis, don't think I forgot about that, but I'm not gonna lie and say me being here isn't for more than one reason. I'll help you make a rain machine, already got more than half of it done, so don't worry about that. I just also need to run some diagnostic tests on… myself. And to keep a low profile. Like, really low."
T'Challa made a noncommittal noise as a knock sounded from the wooden doors, leaving his seat to go retrieve a tray from whoever had knocked. He wasn't letting anyone in the room, so Toni took that as a good sign. She could still win him over. He made his way back with the tray, laden with fruits she'd never seen, some bread, cheese, and what looked like a small assortment of ham? Maybe. Whatever it was, she wanted it. Desperately. With a fervor she hadn't fully understood until her stomach growled so loudly she was sure the Avengers in the states could've heard it. She waited all of three seconds after he sat down and motioned at the tray to dig in like a man possessed.
To his credit, T'Challa remained quiet as she tore into the offerings, only watching her with lightly veiled amusement. "When is the last time you ate, Stark?" he asked her innocently enough, still relaxed into his chair.
She wasn't stupid though. He'd worked with her enough times to know she often forgot to, or simply decided not to, eat. It was a character flaw that she was pretty sure the whole world knew about. This time was different. She'd been comatose for so long, and then sidetracked by everything hitting her at once, that she completely disregarded her body's basic needs. "Ah, uh," her eyes wandered to the ceiling as she thought back, snapping her attention back to him when she had done the math, "Eight months, thirty-two hours, and some odd minutes. Something like that."
Either that really wasn't the answer he expected or he'd suddenly found his pant leg on fire, because he went from sitting back in his seat to being on his feet in an instant, rounding the desk between them and tugging her face away from where it had been studying the best way to create a finger sandwich. She felt his fingers hovering over the pulse point of her neck, and the other hand moved to tug at her eyelids. She grimaced at the contact, trying to pull away but to no avail. "Let me go, I'm fine, totally healthy. Healthier than I've been in years. I had an eight month long nap, that's all. Seriously. Let go of me." Dread settled into the corners of her mind the longer he held on, realizing in a solemn epiphany that Extremis had fixed her physically, but she was still just as fucked up inside her head as she was eight months ago. Of course, it was a stretch to presume her good fortune would extend that far, despite the apparent physical enhancements.
He backed off and she felt herself take a quick, desperate, shuddering breath as their distance increased. She hadn't even realized she'd stopped breathing the longer he held onto her, focused so inwardly on her own thoughts and growing panic. God, she was so fucked up. Five years ago that kind of contact wouldn't have even phased her. Now? Now she had barely contained panic attacks just thinking about people touching her. "I was dying. I fixed it. I went into a coma. It was expected. I woke up. I came here. That's the story."
T'Challa kept his distance this time, though the concern on his face was still clear as day. She knew her terse, simple sentences weren't the most forthcoming, but all she wanted was to have a snack, nap, figure her shit out, and make a goddamn rain machine. Was that too much to ask?
"Not at all." His words dragged her out of her own mind again, Toni's eyes focusing uneasily on him. She had been voicing her thoughts, if the look on his face was anything to go by. "In fact, Ms. Stark, I have my people preparing a guest room for you already. You must understand my concern however. It is quite a shock to have a dead woman break into your palace, regardless of her identity."
She snorted in response, feeling the tense lines of her shoulders ease as the conversation became something more manageable. Something less emotional. "Out of everyone you know, meow mix, you should've realized I'd be the one to come back from the dead. C'mon. Death's just not my style."
"Indeed, Ms. Stark. You do seem to have a curious habit of avoiding it. Come now, let me show you to your room. We can speak more in the morning." He motioned widely for her to follow him, taking care to keep an arm's length from her. She appreciated it. A lot.
"You're not the only one allowed to have nine lives, Josie," she teased, following him out of the office they'd been in. His guards eyed her warily, looking as gorgeous and terrifying as always, and followed at a respectable speed behind them.
By the time they'd finally said their good nights, the door shut and her shoes off, she was exhausted. Thoroughly, completely, totally, to the bone exhausted. She didn't even care that she could hear people murmuring just out her door. It was T'Challa's right to have her watched. She wouldn't trust her either, regardless of their conversation. It was stupendously trusting of him to even let it go as far as it had.