|Sharon Carter (power_broken) wrote in avengers_logs,|
@ 2021-10-10 20:23:00
|Entry tags:||-complete, mobius, sharon carter|
Who: Sharon and Mobius
What: A trip (Sharon has business)
When: 10/9 to 10/10
Warning: Handwaved sexy times, offscreen violence/murder, TW: blood, emergency medical treatment, prescription drug use
Status: Completed via Gdoc
While Mobius told Sharon all about the device that he used to travel through space and time, she hadn’t had much chance to see it in action. Actually, she hadn’t seen a lot of Mobius over the last couple of weeks, as there were some issues that had risen in Madripoor. Sharon had to leave urgently, and headed back out there to handle things. Thankfully, of all of the work things that had come up, she’d only had to get her hands dirty a couple of times.
She’d been back and forth twice since the night they had burritos. Thankfully, everyone seemed understanding about her business dealings, and the art trades. She hadn’t had to explain herself to the SHIELD folk, even though the first time she came back to Stark’s San Francisco tower, she was looking a little worse for wear. Seems they weren’t super nosey.
This next trip, though, promised to be a lot less
violent urgent. And Sharon was actually really looking forward to bringing Mobius to the city: she couldn’t wait to show him around Hightown. It was a place she actually missed a little, now that she wasn’t forced to stay there. Because she still wasn’t sure how this entire thing was going to go, Sharon had made arrangements for a jet. She could always cancel if Mobius’s device could get them there.
When she arrived at his door, Sharon had a small, overnight bag over one shoulder, and her phone in the other. She knocked gently, then spent the time it took him to answer texting furiously.
It would be exciting, to actually get a chance to visit Madripoor - Mobius thought so, anyway, and he’d been thoroughly packed ever since Sharon gave him the go signal. Because he wanted to be prepared and because he was diligent like that - the last thing he wanted was to make any trip there even more stressful for her if she had to be concerned about him; that wasn’t the goal. No, the goal was to see what she’d built up close and personal - and maybe also provide support for, well, damn near anything.
Constructing a criminal empire - for whatever her reasons had been - was no small feat. It weighed on her, he could see that - there was a lot Sharon was still figuring out about herself and what she wanted; he wouldn’t make decisions for her. He was just there to help, in whatever way he could.
He answered the door, catching her mid-flying thumbs. “I’m all set,” he announced, stepping outside and locking up. “How are we getting there, boss?”
While Sharon wasn't planning for anything dangerous to happen on this trip, there was always the possibility. Afterall, she had a reputation to keep. There were people who knew who she was (though they were definitely few and far between), and she had to keep them in line. The last thing in the world that she would ever do would be to put Mobius in the line of danger. So, this was an above-the-table kind of trip: Art Gallery functions, tour of the city, maybe a club or two.
When Mobius opened the door, she quickly looked up from her frantically flying fingers, and broke into a warm smile at the sight of him. A pleasant pressure filled her chest like drops of ink in water. "Good." She leaned in to tap a kiss against his cheek. They were... whatevertheywere, so she was allowed to do that now, right?
"Ah, I have a jet ready, though... I thought maybe you'd like to show me the TemPad I've heard so much about. Is it functional? Could it get us there in an instant?" That would be so much nicer than an ungodly amount of hours on a plane.
She may be something of a crime boss, operating from the shadows, but Sharon was still kind of cute - the cheek kiss was also cute; it made Mobius chuckle and he slipped an arm around her to kiss her properly, planting one on her mouth - it probably came with a bit of a scratch and mustache tickle, as such was the danger when one had facial hair such as him. It was a nice kiss though, a bit like closing a book halfway through it - made you want to know more.
“The TemPad is functional,” he nodded, fingers tapping a nonsensical rhythm on her hip. “I can just program in the right coordinates - set it Madripoor time, open a Timedoor that leads right to your place, if that’s easiest? Then we can go from there.” He’d stash his things and be ready to party - as much as a square like him even let his figurative hair down, anyway.
Where Mobius was all kinds of scratchy, Sharon was all kinds of smooth. And his wrapping an arm around her for a proper kiss? Well, that was magic. She definitely wanted more. But she was also a grown-up, with grown-up responsibilities. So she knew they had to actually go on this trip. As much as she’d rather curl up with him and watch all the scary movies.
She stayed close while he explained, the fingertips against her hip sending goosebumps down her thigh. And a nod--that sounded like the easiest and quickest way to go. Also, it’d give her some insight into his world. “Let’s give it a try. I’m eager to check it out.”
Mobius almost always had the TemPad with him - he reached into the pocket of his trousers (they were simple dress pants - perfectly pressed and crisp, not so garish and ugly brown as the TVA suit he’d sported for who knew how long, and went with his white button-down shirt), flipping the device open. “Prepare to be - sort of impressed?” he grinned. Distinctly avoiding the Miss Minutes button (because he didn’t really feel like dealing with her southern-tinged snarky commentary right now) he programmed the coordinates for Sharon’s massive penthouse, in the neon-lit Hightown district. The time was programmed to be close enough to what they were used to here in San Francisco so the difference didn’t set them too off kilter and neither did jetlag - they could ease in, rather than being jolted into what felt like another universe.
The Timedoor flickered into view, glowing like the Vegas strip. It would disappear as soon as they stepped through.
“Shall we?” Mobius asked, TemPad slipped back into his pocket before he held out his hand.
So, Sharon knew, logically, consciously, that this was some kind of science. Tech. Something. But when that Timedoor appeared, it was like magic. She turned to it, still clutching her phone in one hand, bag over her shoulder, and reached a hand out as if to touch it. The thing looked… kinda solid. But her fingertips went right through the light.
“Huh.” She pushed her hand in a little farther. “This is…” She turned her attention back to him, withdrew her hand, and slipped hers into his, their fingers twining. “It’s like magic. You’re magical. But then again,” she put a teasing tone into her voice, “I knew that already.”
When he stepped forward, she followed him through the glowing door and straight into the living room of her gorgeous penthouse.
The idea of Mobius (him, just a boring analyst who had gone gray and who read jet skiing magazines for fun) being magic made him laugh a little. “I’m not sure I agree, but if you think so - who am I to argue,” he drawled in that accent - though he supposed seeing something like a Timedoor up close and personal, and seeing it in action, was a little awe-inspiring - for so long, it had been all he knew. He believed he was created, and it wasn’t until Loki catapulted into his life did the lies get holes punched in them and he saw the facist truth for what it was.
He was so far away from that now and, quite honestly, it was pretty freeing - he never thought he’d have something such as this. Never thought he’d be stepping into a Hightown penthouse that belonged to the likes of Sharon Carter either. “Fancy digs,” he complimented, setting his bag down. “Where to first? Are you going to take me for a spin on any dance floor?”
That could be kind of terrifying.
Sharon turned around to look behind them, expecting to see the hallway at Stark Tower in San Francisco. But the door slinked shut, disappearing like… well, like something that disappeared. Sharon was left staring at the opposite wall. Like the door had never even been there in the first place. She gave a gentle, “huh” and turned her attention to him. “...I… I don’t ever want to fly again,” she breathed, breaking into a smile.
Then she set about the place, putting her bag down, turning on lights. It was a beautiful flat, there was no denying it. “I figured you might like a tour first?” She offered, almost a little shyly. (Imagine, Sharon Carter, feeling shy.) This was his first time in her place, though. There was a lot that he could judge her for. The art on the walls, a sock hanging out of a laundry basket like a puppy tongue… was there toothpaste crud on the sink? Had she rinsed it the last time she was here??
“Kitchen, living room, dining room, bathroom, bedroom?” She turned back around to face him, cheeks a little pink. “Or are you antsy to get out on the town?”
Not wanting to fly again was fair. Mobius smiled, stepping closer and reaching for both of Sharon’s hands. To take them both in his. He had a feeling she didn’t really invite many people back here, at least not often - especially not a person she didn’t intend to kick out the next morning. Without offering breakfast.
Though he would probably offer to make breakfast for them both, in all honesty.
“All of that,” he agreed. “Bedroom especially. Short tour first, then when we come back we can take a more thorough tour of that one?” It might be good to know where the kitchen and bathroom actually happened to be, but he definitely wasn’t going to be judging the decor - this place was a hell of a lot fancier than any home he’d ever had.
Ah, he picked up on her nerves, did he? Sharon didn’t often have people over. And staying the night was out of the question. When she did have no-strings fun at her place, they were out the door holding their clothes. No, a man hadn’t slept over in… well, possibly ever. And when she could wrangle a hotel room, that was much preferable. She could leave while he snored. (Sharon almost exclusively dated men. There were a couple of women she’d spent the night with over the last handful of years, but the majority had been men. And none that she let in.)
Her hands slipped into his and she smiled shyly. “All right. Brief tour now. I promise I’ll show you every inch of my bed later.” She gave his hands a gentle squeeze, then released one of them so she could guide him from the living room into the luxury kitchen. “Kitchen. Pantry. Through there is the front door. And back there is the downstairs bathroom.” It was a full bath.
Sharon turned through the living room area, and led him up some stairs. “There’s an office in there, my assistant’s office here, and a guest bathroom, guest bedroom, and through here is the master.” The place was huge, and lovely. It had an elegant, old-world feel to it, though it was obvious that it’d been updated relatively recently: the technology and appliances were state of the art.
Pulling him into the master bedroom, she took a frantic look around, but didn’t see any puppy tongues hanging out of laundry baskets. Her bed was made, throw pillows all in place. The master bath had a tub the size of a spa. Sharon turned around to face him, still holding his hand in hers. “What do you think?”
“It’s beautiful,” Mobius replied honestly - he liked the old world charm of the place, the terracotta and the wrought iron and damask draperies. Strong colors, regal colors - befitting of the person who owned the place (and all the art, the conversation pieces that were likely stolen, were just cherries atop the sundae). “Big though. Does it get kind of lonely?”
Bringing people back to her sanctuary probably couldn’t happen too often - not when there were a lot of risks to that; he knew how tightly locked up Sharon kept her secrets. How far she was willing to go to keep them. The fact that she trusted him - well, he wasn’t about to take that for granted.
He laced his fingers with hers, tugging her a little bit closer. “Maybe I can help fill some of the void.” In good ways. Not like he was going to do something annoying like leave the toilet seat up and remind her why she always kicked men out of here.
A deep breath escaped her, one she didn’t know she’d been holding. Relief. He liked the place, he wasn’t judging her. It was strange bringing him here, but it felt good. Right. He was the one person in the world who knew all her secrets--or, most of them, anyway--and she didn’t mind it. A part of her wanted to let him in on everything. Another part wanted to keep him out. Maybe those were the trust issues rearing their ugly head.
“Not really. I’ve always been a fairly solitary creature.” She gave his hand a squeeze, letting him tug her a little closer with their twined fingers. “You’re here now. I say we take advantage.” And she leaned in for another one of those scratchy mustache-tickling kisses.
“I think that sounds like a good plan,” Mobius murmured, smiling into the kiss - he supposed he could shave his mustache, if Sharon felt like she was being massaged by a hedgehog whenever they kissed, but he’d had that thing for so long and was just used to it by now - plus she seemed to like it.
His free hand came up to stroke his thumb along her cheek as he kissed her again - it was like a jolt of nitrogen that danced along all his nerve endings. “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere,” he said. “Though you’re doing a pretty good job at seducing me so I’m not sure I want to actually leave the penthouse now.” Kidding, he was kidding - he’d somehow manage to charge his social battery and go out in public, not to worry.
Sharon would be very disappointed if he shaved his mustache. As tickly (and prickly) as it was, it was so very Mobius. She leaned in against those lips, one hand resting against his collarbone, the other wrapped down and around his waist. He mentioned her seducing him, and she laughed softly. “Well, then. I suppose we can give up our reservations and stay in.” It was mostly a tease. Mostly. The reservations could be adjusted, the timeline could be adjusted. There were few and far between hard deadlines for this trip. Just a couple of things that Sharon had to attend to.
“Mmmm, no,” she practically groaned, pulling herself out of his arms and taking a step back. As much as she wanted to stay, she knew they should go. “Let’s go out. I promised you a night on the town, and a night on the town you shall have. We can always cut things short and come back later. Pick up where we left off.”
A night on the town, that was pretty exciting. Been awhile since Mobius really cut loose - but if not in Madripoor, then when? It seemed like the perfect place to let one’s hair down - especially since Madripoor didn’t care how you obtained your money, the only thing that was important to anybody was whether or not you even had money or not.
“I think I also promised I’d dance, so there’s that too,” he pointed out with a smirk. “So let’s do this. On the way out I’ll grab a tie.” He had one tucked away in his bag - because while the mustache was also pretty Mobius, the tie was too and he felt naked without one. At the very least, it wasn’t one of those ugly TVA ties he’d been accustomed to for so long. Small favors.
Dancing. That was actually quite exciting for Sharon. She released him completely and stepped away. “Give me two minutes to change.” After that, she moved across the room to her closet. It looked unassuming from the outside, but it was a grand, spacious, walk-in thing with a fantastic selection of clothes. She started to rifle through the dresses and shoes, curating the perfect outfit for a night on the town with Mobius.
“Dinner first?” She called from her spot in the closet. There was the sound of rustling cloth, zippers, shoes dropping to the floor. “I’m not terribly hungry myself, but we do have reservations.”
While Sharon was changing, Mobius went to grab that aforementioned tie - he was back in her bedroom soon after, using one of the mirrors and looping the silk into an elegant knot (and it was something he could do in his sleep by now). “Dinner sounds good,” he agreed. “If you get hungry later I’m sure we can pick something up.” Since he didn’t have have as much of an outfit to put together with actual fashion design skills, he was all set once he got that tie into a perfect Windsor - and he went to lean against the wall outside the closet, eager to see Sharon’s night-on-the-town outfit debut.
“I think this is the first time I’ve actually been in Madripoor for longer than six seconds, anyway. We didn’t make many stops here, when I was with the TVA.”
“I’m sure I’ll figure something out.” The more Sharon thought of it, the more she wanted a salad. Strange, right? The woman could eat--burrito the size of her head, remember?--but tonight felt like a salad night. And the restaurant where they had reservations had amazing salads.
“Ah, well, we’ll have to show you more than six seconds worth of the night life here, then.” She emerged from the closet a minute later with her dress on, strappy heels buckled to her feet, hair down in cascades around her shoulders. With a shy smile, she turned so he could see the back of her dress unfastened: the long zipper exposing most of her back down to her waist. Pulling her hair out of the way, she added, “a little help?”
Gods. How was Mobius even supposed to concentrate on anything when Sharon was presenting herself in such a way? “You look beautiful,” he complimented, and he meant that. She was gorgeous and also a stone-cold killer and, honestly, he shouldn’t be so into that second part but he was anyway.
That brand of danger was like playing with knives and smashing crockery and turning the magnifying glass on cute little ants, watching them burn - it was easy to forget when she smiled at him like that, though.
But right, her dress. He shouldn’t just stand here and gawk. He pulled the zipper up, dropping a kiss to where her neck and back ran together, the knot at the top of her spine. “All set, then?”
“Thank you,” she spoke humbly. Sharon knew she was beautiful. It was something that she’d banked on for so many years working undercover--she did all the right things: hair, makeup, clothes. And then everything fell apart after her stint at the CIA. She spent five years with it not as a priority. She grew humble. She grew… insecure. Maybe. A little. Having him compliment her warmed her insides. The stone-cold killer was a needy woman deep down.
At the press of his lips to her skin, goosebumps broke out all along Sharon’s upper arms, down her sides. She felt her face flush. “All set. Should we walk?” She turned, releasing her hair, and slipped her hand through the crook of his elbow. “There’s a skybridge from this building to the one next door, where the restaurant is. The view from the bridge is incredible.”
A skybridge seemed like it’d be ultra fancy - Mobius was all in. What better way to admire the brightness of the stars, the moon dangling in the sky, and the electric glow of the city lights - and Hightown, in Madripoor, was definitely lit up, practically soaked in neon. “That sounds like one way to appreciate the view,” he said, hand patting Sharon’s, the one that was tucked into the crook of his arm.
“By the way, I’m gonna tell you upfront that I had a really good trip - because it’s true.” He worried about Sharon, admittedly. And he knew that she couldn’t just give this all up - but he worried about her going down a path she wouldn’t be able to come back from. He’d told older Loki that it was never too late to change though, and he believed that - so he’d just have to see what happened. Either way, he had true feelings for her and wasn’t about to leave her to navigate whatever came next on her own.
Sharon had spent so much time in Madripoor that she had come to take a lot of its glory for granted. The neon lights, skybridge, fancy restaurants, tall buildings… all of it were just in the backdrop for her. “Good. Come this way.” She led him out of the bedroom, out of the apartment through the front door. They talked along the way.
“...you’re telling me now that you had a good trip? But it’s not even close to over yet.” She raised an eyebrow. “You might end up eating those words, y’know.”
“I won’t,” Mobius promised, and he was relatively confident in that assessment. It wasn’t an invitation for disaster to strike, so he would hope it didn’t. “I just like spending time with you.” They could be sitting around doing nothing or folding laundry, or out dancing or eating tiny expensive bite-sized portions at some expensive restaurant (or eating burgers or burritos at some hole in the wall, didn’t matter) - he’d still be having a good time.
And there was a lot to cover on this trip too, but he didn’t need any psychic ability to know that this type of thing was part of his future that he chose, what he wanted to build on his own. Because screw the TVA, really, it was time for him to really live.