Mooooooore. What do you guys think of Haven? I love her friendship with Sam, but I already have an idea of who she's gonna end up with, though he hasn't entered the story yet ;) Let me know your opinions! I'm always open to new thoughts!
I had this friend in college who, not matter the time of day or night, would without fail be craving bacon. After my breakfast in bed served by none too ugly man servants, I knew I'd just discovered the bacon that must have converted him. I was now a firm believer in all the crispy, fattening holy experiences it offered. After extracting myself from the duvet that seemed to be made up entirely of clouds plucked straight from the heavens, I slid under the sinfully hot streams of water in the two person shower. I don't know who the King of Wakanda expected me to bring in my shower with me, but it was nice that he'd thought to present the option at least. I scrubbed my body raw, taking care around the newly healed scab covering the front of my shin. Even the soap smelled of angel breath. People say Thor is a god, but I'm not entirely certain T'challa isn't too.
I let the silver satin bathrobe meld to my body afterwards; it was so light I still felt naked. My bed was now neatly made and an envelope rested on it. How romantic. It was from someone I did not know, but it listed out my schedule for the day with painfully accurate details that didn't leave a minute untouched. Sadly, none of those minutes included seeing the dazzling King again. Even worse, I had to eat both lunch and dinner with Sam. Now that I was here, I no longer wanted him hovering over my shoulder. I was content to slink off into this role and let myself drown in the luxuries.
Sadly, my Zhen master required my presence on the roof in ten minutes. I slicked my wet curls back into a bun and pulled on the attire left hanging in my open wardrobe. White leggings and a long white tunic that had a matching sash to tie about my waist. There were no shoes provided, so I padded barefoot out of my room praying they didn't expect me to eat in this. If so, they were just asking for the dry cleaning bill to sky rocket.
I located the stairs at the end of my hallway and followed them all the way up. Next time I'm seeking out the elevator because fifteen flights of stairs was entirely too much of a work out for my weak ass. I was already sweating before I stepped out onto the sleek tiles covering the roof. The humid air stuck to my pores, making breathing even more difficult. A girl appearing even younger than myself sat dangling her feet over the edge.
"Don't sit, Haven," she called in a sing song voice without turning her head away from the endless view.
I stopped walking, and cracked my knuckles. "Aright, so are we doing some meditating? Opening a few chakras?"
"Just stand," she said. The light breeze caught at her long twists of hair lazily.
"Ok, but I just climbed all those stairs. Can I maybe take a break before we start all the cryptic assignments?"
"No break. No talking."
Well this was going to get boring fast. How was this supposed to help me reign in my powers? Still, I decided to play nice so King T'challa wouldn't decide my purpose was better served as meat for his pet panthers I suspected he had lurking around here somewhere. By the time the sun indicated noon, my legs were sore and stiff and I felt more likely to blast that little girl from the roof than to do anything actually productive or beneficial towards society.
Sam was already at the table when I arrived smelling worse than the wildlife. He wrinkled his nose and shielded his lunch of red looking noodles from me. I sat across from him, downing the entire glass of water before I let my head collapse against the place-mat.
"Learn a lot?" Sam inquired.
"Shit ton," I replied.
Slurping noodles answered my dry humor.
"What'd you and the Panther King talk about?" I attempted to pick up my noodles only to have it slip free of the fork right onto my lap almost like I'd practiced the manuever.
"Some research he's been doing for us. Are you planning on actually eating any of the noodles little Haven?"
I sat back, crossing my arms with a defiant huff. Sam snorted into his food and rolled his eyes. "You didn't have to stand in the fucking sun for hours on end!" I snapped.
"You didn't agree with Hasina's methods then?" T'challa asked as he entered the room at a casual stroll. He wore grey slacks today sans the matching blazer. His tie was loosened and his serene expression from only yesterday had faded into something resembling dismay. Was it something regarding his country or did it involve the topics he and Sam excluded me from?
"Oh, is that her name? She never bothered to tell me." Grumbling to the King probably wasn't in my best interest, but I'd yet to coax any food in my irritable stomach. If it wasn't happy, no one would be.
"I can join you tomorrow if it would help. I usually do my mornings sessions with Hasina before the sun, but if you prefer…"
"Yes!" I didn't hide my excitement. He would provide an adequate distraction from the tedious task.
"Excellent. I'll shift my schedule." T'challa clapped his hands and sat at the chair at the head of the table. "Are you enjoying Wakanda?"
"What's your citizenship process? Because I'm never leaving."
T'challa smiled without it reaching his eyes and waved off his own course of the meal. "Mr. Wilson, I have your ticket back to Moscow waiting on your bed. Zaire will be driving you back to the airport right after dinner."
"Oh, wonderful." Sam smiled confidently. I hadn't found the courage to burst his bubble yet about the body guard's preferences.
I was a perfect lady the rest of the meal, if you disregarded the time I accidentally tripped a servant. T'challa was physically present, but his eyes were glued to the messages he typed out on his tablet. He was truly a fountain of power. it flowed from him into the atmosphere and I drank it in, hoping it would aid my own abilties. I shook my head, realizing Sam had been speaking. "Hu?" I muttered. He wouldn't give me grief about my being star struck. I could see T'challa had the same overwhelming effect on him; I suspect most people felt similarly around the King. The man was born to be a leader. He could instill fear and loyalty without even batting an eye. It was unnerving yet fascinating.
"I asked what's on your schedule for this afternoon."
"Tests." I made a face at the thought of needles thicker than my arm aimed at me.
"I'm free. Need a hand to hold?"
"I'm gonna tell Cap your cheating on him," I warned.
"Our relationship is very open." Sam waved me off good-naturedly.
T'challa glanced up, having picked up on at least that bit of the conversation. "I'm sorry. Are congratulations in order? I was not informed you were dating the Captain."
I nearly choked on my drink and Sam worked his jaw, debating whether or not to add another sarcastic comment and fuel the confusion or help out his King. Finally, he settled on, "Sadly he has yet to accept my offer, just like some people." Pointed glances were sent to me then Zaire who stood as the silent brooding body guard in the corner. "Which means he's single, if you're interested."
If T'challa's skin wasn't so sumptuously dark, I think he might have blushed. Maybe Steve Rogers had the same effect on him that the King had on the rest of the world. "I have no time for affairs of the heart," T'challa replied simply. He excused himself to go deal with "matters of state."
Sam polished off his silverware with a hungry tongue before scurrying to my side. "So, that wasn't a no exactly."
I hit his arm and wiped off my tunic as best I could. Sam unzipped his jacket, because he was unfairly permitted to wear his own clothing, and offered it to me. I accepted only because I didn't want the fancy scientists thinking I was a waste of their time on the very first day; that's more of a day five impression at minimum. The comfy black material fell halfway down my thighs smelling distinctly of the West and covering the multitude of stains I'd managed to acquire before noon. As extravagant as this all was, I found myself craving my home country, where the worst thing that happened was an unexpected hurricane. I should never have moved to California. I should never have invested in that goddamn farm.
The lab was located in the basement and smelled as if they'd lathered the walls with disinfectant. Machines I couldn't begin to identify whirled away. Some looked as if they could fit entire bodies inside them. I was praying for a mere needle now. I trusted humans more than technology. An old woman bustled over, smiling indulgently at us. She swept a hand through loose waves of hair styled in a boyish cut. The roots were tinting white while the tips remained a steely grey. Her pale skin almost blended in to the stark white walls.
"You're my new toy?" she extended a hand with a teasing glint to faded green eyes. Thick goggles sat on the end of a narrow, upturned nose.
Sam chuckled at my side, so I elbowed him. "You just need blood, right?"
"A few fingers and toes. Nothing you'll miss." She paused at my horrified expression and waved her hands about to clear the air. "I'm only jesting, love. We'll start simple. Hair, skin cells, a few syringes of blood. Just enough to give us an idea what we're looking for."
"You're going to reverse it?" Sam asked.
"We'll try to in our free time. Mostly, we're just hoping to understand it. Enhanced individuals have been a specialty of mine since before I was trained to use the loo. We're still working on the cryo patient Captain Rogers requested…"
Sam cleared his throat. She'd been about to mention their little secret. "Right, well. Let's hop to it, then." The doctor instructed. "I'm afraid I'll have to escort you out, Samuel. No room for tag-alongs down here."
"No need for excuses here, Sally. If you wanted to get me alone, all you had to do was ask."
"You little minx," Sally pinched his cheek and led him back up the stairs.
I shifted on my toes, wondering where to go. There were only about five other individuals in the room, each enraptured in his or her task. I meandered down the center path, past the desks cluttered with microscopes, notes, and textbooks older than Captain America himself. There was a hallway veering off to the left. The smell in the air coming from it reminded me of the Siberian winter. It snuck past the layers of Sam's jacket and my thin shirt to raise goosebumps on my skin. I curled my bare toes and took a step in. These walls were heavy metal and absorbed even the faintest sounds. I had a feeling if thebulletproof door at the end of the hall was closed, the corridor would be entirely soundproof. It felt like a meat locker, though I was unsure what they could possibly need all this space for.
I came across a mannequin first; it was missing one arm. Tables further down were littered with unused syringes and crumpled notes. An old computer clicked away on the furthest desk with numbers in a language I couldn't even recognize. The further in I ventured, the colder it got. There was some strange sort of box tucked away at the very end of it, a layer of ice hiding its contents from my view. Was this their top secret project?
"I'd have thought you learned your lesson, love. Wasn't it just last week when the science you got involved in, yet did not understand, took a bite out of your arse?" Sally's voice came from behind me.
"Went for the throat, actually. A lot more lethal."
I turned and trudged from the hallway. Sally sealed it after our exit and pointed me to an examination hidden in a little alcove in the far back right of the room. A painting of an ocean hung on the wall. I recognized my Atlantic without needing to read the title. "Painted that when I lived in England."
"I'm from Costa Rica," I told her.
She swabbed an antiseptic wipe over the vein in the crook of my elbow. The needle she produced was small enough and her reassuring squeeze of my arm kept my nerves at ease. The procedures took all of thirty minutes, though my schedule had allotted up to three hours. So I sat back and watched Sally work. She handed me a print out of my charts from her first test. High cholesterol. Low iron. Nothing unusual from my normal physical checkups. A spinning hour glass in the center of her computer screen stalled her work process. She turned, pulling her goggles down to nibble their end in thought.
"You're not asking questions," she observed.
I shrugged innocently.
"Which means you already know the answers. You know what's back there." She nodded down the secluded hallway.
Ok, she was good. "You have someone in cryofreeze. I didn't know that was real. Are you trying to wake him up?"
"No. that's not the problem."
"Is he dangerous then? Is he like me? Is that what you'll do to me if I start spiraling?"
Instead of answering me, Sally directed a different question my way. "I never said it was a male."
I blinked, startled at the point. It hadn't been a guess. Somehow, I had known that was a man in there. I shook my head, unsure how to explain the insight. Sally, stood and began rummaging through one of the multitude of filing cabinets lining the walls. "Close your eyes," she called.
"No thanks?"
Sally cut her eyes at me, brimming with a new energy. Maybe she wasn't about to knock me out and throw me in the cryo chamber with the mysterious man. I reluctantly closed my eyes and waited for whatever surprise she had. I heard her flats dance over to me and felt her breath too close to my face. She smelled of lemon tea and plastic gloves. Her hasty breathing told me her lungs were working quickly to keep up with her excitement.
"What am I holding?" she asked.
I furrowed my brow, frowning deeply. "How the hell am I supposed to know?"
"Just like you did with Sergeant Barnes. Focus on the air surrounding the object. Use it as an extension of your fingers."
"Barnes?" I opened my eyes curiously.
"Blast! I've never been good at secrets." She threw the stuffed lion back to her desk.
"I was not about to guess that," I informed her. I hadn't even known she was holding something until she told me.
"You weren't supposed to guess. You should just know. Maybe it has to be alive for your abilities to work. Close your eyes. Wait here."
As if I was about to wander anywhere with my eyes shut. As I pondered which wild animal Sally would return with—probably a bird that would poop on my attire, further dirtying it—my mind drifted back to the man in the hall: Barnes. The name was not familiar, yet his condition was important enough to Steve for him to send one of his vital team members down for an update on it; he must be very concerned about the threat Barnes presented. The happenings within the palace walls were just as dangerous as the jungle it shielded us from.