A/N I'M SO SORRY longer authors note and apology at the bottom I'M SORRY I LOVE YOU THANK YOU FOR READING ALL THESE YEARS

Day broke golden, hues of whiskey and honey melting over the couple entwined on the bed. Mallory groaned as the sunlight filtered through her closed eyes but felt a smile flutter to her cheeks as she became increasingly aware of the arm that held her flush against a toned body. Her eyes still closed, she listened to his easy breathing and felt the overwhelming meaning of the word bliss thrum through her body. Was it even allowed for one person, amidst so much misery, to feel such utter bliss?

The last week had been rough. Hell, rough was the mildest word for it. It hadn't been all that long ago the man beside her had been accused of bombing the U.N or she'd had a gun pushed to the back of her head with the man behind it intent on pulling the trigger. She'd expected a nightmare but her sleep had been absent of dreams and she'd woken, in a rare state, completely rested and happy. It felt wrong but she was too happy to really care.

Mallory opened her eyes and shifted slightly to glance at him over her shoulder. His head was swallowed by the pillow, mouth slightly open, sleeping much like an exhausted child after a long day. His flesh arm was wound tightly around her, his hand splayed out on her hip and Mallory reached her own hand to thread her fingers through them. I hope he sleeps the day away. He deserved it. Alas, he was infected with the super solider serum and along the other physical benefits, his heightened senses alerted him to minute changes in his surroundings so after sensing her change in breathing he awoke with a sigh and found her eyes.

She released their entwined fingers and cupped his cheek, soft stubble brushing against her fingers. James relaxed and smiled at her.

"Hey."

"Morning." She replied. He chased her hand with his lips and kissed it gently and her smile grew wider. "Go back to sleep."

"I'm not sure I'll be able to with you looking like that."

She snorted. She was sure she looked like her usual morning self, messy hair and sleep crusted eyes but any insecurity felt distant in the bliss of the morning.

"I'd like to kiss you." He declared then dropped his gaze briefly to her own mouth, "If that would be okay."

It occurred to Mallory then just how out of step he was with all of this. Of course, consent was always appreciated but it reminded her vaguely of how people learnt a second language, devoid of the slang that came with the familiarity of a place. He had not been a relationship in… god, how long had it been?! Longer than seventy years. Mallory couldn't blame his awkwardness, his over-formality, his reluctance at ease. She was sure she'd be a similar way if she had spent seventy years without romantic experience and reminded herself not to tease him about it in case, he was self-conscious.

"I'd like that."

The smile that broke out on his face was warmer than the sun. James pulled her to him and intended to kiss her chastely, but the minute his lips touched hers neither seemed willing to part. James seemed unsure of what to do as their kiss heightened in intensity so it was Mallory who rolled on top of him, Mallory who tucked her hair behind her ear and brushed his away from his face and Mallory who moved his hands from her cheek to her waist. From her vantage point, it became difficult for James to hide the firmness that grew between his legs and then it was Mallory who cut the heat and broke the kiss, using her thighs to raise herself so she hovered above his groin.

His eyes were glazed but he sounded devastated when he spoke, glancing briefly down beneath his waist and sighing. "I'm sorry, Mal, I just-"
"Don't." She cupped his cheeks, smoothing her hands down his face, "I don't mind."

"I'm sorry-"

"You don't have to apologise."

"Sorry," Then he laughed self-consciously, "I- fuck. This is hard."

Unable to not make the pun, Mallory said, "Yes, you are."

She relaxed her stance, setting back down in his lap and grazed the hardness between his legs. James choked a gasp, his hips bucking up to hers involuntarily. He shook his head at her and threw it back on the pillows. She let herself graze him once, twice more then lifted herself up again.

"You're a vixen."

That made her laugh. His hand came around her waist and he sat up, enveloping her in a hug that smelt like freesias. The soap they'd both used was provided in the bathroom in a fancy dish and posh packaging. Monifa had proudly informed her it was made onsite and derived from the flowers that bloomed in the Royal Gardens. On him, the dominant freesia scent of the soap had a woodsy undertone, earthy and sweet, homely and she buried her head in the crook of his neck where the scent was strongest. Mine. A possessive hiss built inside of her as she clung to him. The feeling was foreign to her and so overwhelming that she clung to him a little tighter. This man is mine.

"I love you," Mallory told him fiercely.

She heard him laugh, "I love you."

Mallory pulled her head from the dip of his neck and leaned in to kiss him again. He wrapped his arms around and happily, Mallory felt an improvement. Practise does make perfect. His hands flitted up the sensitive skin of her back and held her firm, and his mouth felt less juvenile against her, his tongue expertly flicking in. Mallory felt her entire body warm with arousal and when his mouth left hers and found her neck, she couldn't quite silence the moan that he drew from her.

"Mhmm, James-" She pushed gently at his chest and he immediately stopped the delicate ministrations and found her eyes, "I don't mean to sound like a pushy asshole but this no sex thing… you're kinda killing me here."
James laughed, "I hadn't realized you were so… demanding."

"You ain't seen nothing."

She settled herself in his lap more comfortably and could still feel him hard beneath his pants. An idea formed from the dark, overly horny recess of her brain but she was of two minds about it. He'd expressed last night that although he did want her, he was so anxious about performing after so long without any practise. He'd probably be sensitive enough that it wouldn't take much to finish him off. Mallory didn't want to be the overly pushy girlfriend who couldn't take no for an answer but it felt wrong to send him off into cryo-sleep without at least something pleasurable.

Hell, it had been long overdue. Call it her patriotic duty. Deciding finally to just ask, Mallory wrapped one of her arms around his neck and with the other, placed it directly in the middle of his toned stomach and began stroking her fingers across him. At the movement, James wrapped his arm around her again.

"I had an idea."
"Mmm?"

"You want me but you're worried about… performance issues."

A little embarrassed, he ducked his head, "I wouldn't say that specifically-"

She allowed her hand to go a little lower, dancing across the skin just above his waistband. His expression became briefly slack-jawed but he recovered and kissed her once.

"Maybe I could take some of the anxiety out of it."

"How do you propose you do that?"

To emphasize, she slipped her hand inside of his waistband but avoided going lower. James took a deep breath, briefly squeezing his eyes shut and Mallory immediately pulled her hand out.

"I-"

"Ssh," He wrapped his arm around her, "Lemme… just lemme think about it."

There was a pause. His eyes opened but the words clearly ticking over in his mind remained unspoken. Mallory lowered her head a little and pushed it into his armpit like a needy cat. He opened his arm slightly and she rested her head there, waiting.

"It was just a thought-"

He cut her off, "Yeah. I mean…"

She looked up. His eyes were black, restless as he looked anywhere but her gaze.

He cleared his throat, "I think that would be a good idea. Only if you want to do it."

It took all her self-control not to laugh. Of course, it would have been a good-natured, adoring chuckle at how endearing his shyness was but she refused to be the cause for any more of his anxiety. Biting back a smile, Mallory lifted her head, splayed her fingers out against his torso and pushed him backwards to indicate he should lie down. He caught the meaning quickly and did as she asked, looking at her furtively as she straddled him atop his thighs. She pulled back to look at him. It became so obvious then she was punching above her weight. Rumlow was above your weight, her insecurities told her, Bucky's in the stratosphere. What was she in comparison to this Greek god beneath her? But it was difficult to allow the sudden wave of self-loathing totally overwhelm her as he chose that moment to reach up and touch her cheek.

"You don't have to do anything-"

"Hush," He'd taken her pause to drink him in as reluctance, "I'm just deciding whether I can make you cum like this or if I want you in my mouth."

James groaned. He rubbed his hands across his eyes and she swore she heard him say "-woman's gonna kill me-" and she smiled to herself. It was time for action.

The waistband of his joggers was loose enough that it was easy to slide it down, revealing lean tanned skin and deep groves that contoured his muscles and bones. His breathing was shallow, his stomach muscles tightening as she smoothed her fingers down the trail of black hair that gradually began to thicken. She teased her lower lip between her teeth. Mallory took a breath to steady herself then lowered her hand and brushed up against him, a breathe of fingers against velvet flesh. At the briefest of touches, James threw his head back onto the pillows and tucked one of those lips between his teeth. It made her smile. She took him in her fist and was surprised at his thickness and freed it from his pants.

"Mal…" He sounded like somebody had tightened his throat in a vice, "Please."

She let go of him and let him stand for a minute just in front of it. His size was perhaps slightly bigger than average and his thickness definitely bigger than anything she'd ever had. A pearl of precum had already gathered at his slit. Her mouth felt dry. She shifted and felt herself throb uncomfortably against the cheap lace of her underwear. This was about him, she had to remind herself and instinctively felt her tongue dart out her lower lip and decided where she wanted him. She lowered herself and gave him a tentative lick at the base.

He moaned again but it sounded muffled. When she looked up, she saw he'd covered his face with one of his arms, his stomach muscles contracting quickly with his breaths. Mallory raised herself back up but wrapped a hand loosely around him and he groaned again. It was incredible how close he was without her doing anything.

"Baby-"
He huffed.

"You gotta watch."

With a Herculean effort, James removed the arm from his face to peek down at her. When his blue eyes met hers, she gave him a cheeky smile and gently lowered her face back down and licked him purposely at the slit and swallowed it down. He had a strong flavour, salty but not wholly unpleasant. She didn't give him time to moan because she had soon taken him into her mouth and began sucking properly. The sound that punctuated out of him was a gasp skittering up his chest. It seemed impossible for him to tear his eyes from her.

"Fuck-"

His hand balled into a fist, the knuckles whitening with the intensity of his grip. He was hot in her mouth and twitching. Mallory took him further and further till she felt him graze the back of her throat then pulled up, till he was close to pop out of her mouth and sucked him back down again. Her head steadied her on his thigh. Her rhythm evened out. His breathing shallowed. It was shortest blowjob she'd even given. Mere seconds after her fourth, maybe her fifth suck his hand came to rest in her hair, pulling the strands up as he bucked involuntarily into her mouth and moaned her name and chased it with a choking sound. Every one of his muscles drove up and tightened as he rode through a lengthy orgasm, thrusting in and out and spilling a lot of himself into her mouth and down her throat. She spluttered a little but managed to swallow him all, the unpleasant flavour replaced with only a feeling of intense pride. He seemed to rock back and forth slightly then he stilled, breathing out heavily. The room was quiet again. Mallory watched his cock begin to soften and then tucked him away back in his pants. She had all but assumed he'd forgotten she was there but his hand reached down to grab hers and squeeze it hard.

"Sorry," He was out of breath, surprising considering his athleticism, "I should've… warned you. Given you a chance to… move."

"What, and ruin these sheets?" His laugh was more of a huff. "You'll know for next time."

"I… I don't know what to say. 'Thank you' feels a little inappropriate."

It was her turn to laugh, "Hah! Watching that was enough."

Mallory moved off him to head into the bathroom to rinse her mouth and pee. After washing her hands with the nice freesia soap, she took care of her appearance, brushing through her wild hair and straightening out her eyebrows but in truth there was little wrong with her appearance. It was still the brown-haired, pale-faced appearance she'd come to expect but love had changed her. Maybe it was her flushed cheeks or the permanent lift to her smile. Maybe it was even something microscopic, something so subtle that only she could notice the change but she felt at peace with her reflection for what had to be the first time in her life. She smiled at herself then switched off the light.

Mallory saw that he was still in the same position but the minute he felt the bed dip with her weight he opened his arm and tucked it around her as she settled on his shoulder. His chest rose and fell with a metronome rhythm and Mallory trailed her fingers across his skin in swirling patterns. They lay for a while.

"Hey," She raised her head a little, "You said you had a favour to ask."

"Mmm," He opened his eyes and moved his head to see her properly, "Oh, yeah. I, uh… did I ever tell you about the Collitard mission?"

She shook her head. The couple parted, James moving to sit up properly and Mallory propping herself up on her elbow to listen.

"I remember the exact date… 10th November, 1989… I was sent to…" He dropped his gaze, lowered his voice, "-take care of this French business guy, Mr Collitard. He's holed up in a fancy hotel in Paris so HYDRA lend me a few stealth agents and about 200k in Euros to take care of our expenses." 1989… James would've been a HYDRA Russian asset then. It wasn't until 9/11 that the project had transferred control to American soil. She didn't ask why they wanted Collitard dead. "We infiltrate the hotel, have a whole plan and it turns out he's… well, he's killed himself."

"Jesus."

"Yeah. I never…" Awkward, he cleared his throat but managed to say it, "-cared at the time but when I looked it up yesterday, turns out he knew we were coming and decided he wanted to go out his own way."

Mallory mulled it over. She supposed she understood, in a bizarre way. If a Winter Soldier had've been after herself at any point, the impulse to go out on her own terms would absolutely cross her mind. Collitard must've been a strong man to follow through. What this had to do with anything she wasn't sure but he sensed her confusion and explained.

"I know you're not a history gal-"

She snorted and said, "God, everyone knows that."

Smiling now, he continued, "But the next day, the 10th November, the Berlin Wall fell, so we were recalled to Siberia in case we were needed and the money… which was all in cash… was left abandoned on the HYDRA black site which was forgotten about in the reshuffling of Soviet assets. The contact in France – Pierre – says he thinks it still might be there."

She sat up properly now, her eyes a little wide, "So, what? You want me to go get it?"

"If it's there. T'Challa says he'll able to open you an account so you can wire it to the Kohl girl."

The Kohl girl… was that a euphemism? Mallory flipped through her mental catalogue and found with intense shame; she'd thought little of the horror in the Russian prison since all this fresh horror had started. It felt like a lifetime ago but she saw now, the memory clear as day in her mind, Sofia Kohl becoming an orphan as her mother died giving birth to her brother. And of the man beside you, shooting her father in his head after promising he wouldn't. The old wound felt like it had ripped open and Mallory squirmed a little.

"Oh."
He nodded.

"I… I don't think she'd take it."

"The king has offered to frame it as a donation from an outreach programme. She won't know who it's really from." He sighed, "You won't have to see her but you will have to actually go to France to do it. It might not even be there but… on the off chance it is, I just wondered if you'd be able to do that for me. No pressure, obviously. I just thought you'd like to… it was just a thought."

She touched his upper arm to silence him and nodded, though slowly. The chance to give that awful memory a little positivity was enticing but a small voice in the back of her mind – Rumlow's but blurring with the Sokovian accent of Zemo for some reason – reminded her that it wasn't enough, that they'd both stood by and watched as a teenager was made a sister and an orphan in one day. What he'd done, the sneering Zemo reminded her and she wanted to puke.

She swallowed the bile and nodded. "I think that would be a good idea. I'll do it. I've always wanted to go to Paris," She added in a strange voice, attempting airiness. James ignored her little attempt and leaned in to stroke her cheek.

"I know it's a lot but… I don't trust anyone else."
They kissed. The sudden revulsion vanished and Mallory was suddenly in love again. When he broke to look at her, he touched her cheek.

"I wish I could give her more."

"You can do a lot with that money if it's managed well. It'll bring some comfort."

He shook his head, his eyes distant, "Won't bring her family back. I've told T'Challa the arrangements. A jet'll be waiting for you at five o'clock and Pierre will meet you in Paris."

She wrote it down lest she forget but when the pen was set down, the matter became distant in the horizon of her mind. All she could think about now was the goodbye that lingered in front, the next painful hurdle in the road to their lives together. James gathered her in his arm and they settled back down to cocoon themselves in the duvet and forget about the world.

Twenty minutes passed and Mallory had been dozing but she was growing warm, uncomfortable between her legs and she smiled to herself as a wanton thought crossed her minds.

"Bucky?"

He hesitated before answering, "Yeah."

"Now that we've addressed the performance anxiety, do you think you'll be ready for a proper goodbye?"

She felt him laugh more than she heard him, his body shivering with a jiggling chuckle and she was thankful for more than anything she'd been when his hand snuck under her shirt, warm fingers against her skin and he breathed, "I think I will."

A private goodbye, athletic and loving… she still ached from his urgency as she said her public goodbye. The two people who loved James Buchanan Barnes more than anything in the world gathered to say their goodbyes in a room that overlooked the beauty of the country. A waterfall crashed outside, making the already dramatic goodbye even more so as Mallory gathered the man she loved in her arms and whispered her well-wishes for his recovery. The head of the project – a teenager whom Mallory had privately mistaken for the intern and felt deep shame when informed she was the princess of Wakanda! – projected around a months work to untangle the deep Soviet brainwashing and free him.

A month apart. It felt painful. She held him tight and whispered something filthy and sweet in his ear so when they parted his cheeks were red but his smile was coy. She refused to linger on it. It was not forever.

A month apart yet watching him enter the coffin to be refrozen was like somebody had ripped her heart out and stamped on it. He became Sleeping Beauty again, a harsh reminder of the circumstances they had met under. She pressed her hand to the coffin's frozen surface and told him she loved him then left the room, lest she weep in front of a king.

Outside, Mallory allowed the few tears she'd bottled up fall but hurried to hide them, as Steve came around the corner and spotted her.

Wordlessly, he extended his arms and Mallory laughed. The two hugged and it struck her that not too long ago they'd been trading barbs in the conference room of the Avengers facility. How much had changed… not just with James but with everybody. She stepped back and smiled at him.

"I don't know why I'm so upset," She told him, "It's only a month. It's not like he's dying."

"He's a helluva guy to lose, Mal. I would know."
There was a twinkle in his eye and a grin that could only be described as shit-eating. Mallory shook her head and leaned against the wall.

"Go on. Ask."

"Nothing to ask. I already knew."

She had a brief flashback to where her mouth and vagina had been that morning and felt a Catholic-shame blush bloom across her face, "Oh, god…"

Her face dropped in her heads and a laughing Steve clapped her on the shoulder, then began gently coaxing her to follow him down the hall. She removed her hands and folded her arms, ambling awkwardly beside him.

"He didn't tell me everything but I was in the room across the hall." Her face burnt hot and ruby. "He was pleased. Loudly."

"Steve-"

He dropped the merciless teasing and said, "Seriously… I'm happy for you both. I do owe Sam ten bucks though."

"You two were betting on us?!"

He tilted his head at her, his expression slightly annoyed, "Mal, watching you two dance around your feelings for the past couple of days has been torture and I don't use that word lightly."

"Suppose we did take our time."

They lapsed into silence, rounding a corner. A staff member passed them and gave them both a respectful nod and Mallory hoped that Steve had been only teasing about the loudness of their morning activities.

"T'Challa tells me you're flying to Paris to meet a SHIELD agent. You changing careers?"

She chuckled, "Nah, I'm not sure the world's ready for Agent Smith again. No, I'm, uh… running an errand for Bucky."

Steve's eyebrows slanted at her. They hadn't discussed this in the bedroom whether Steve should be aware but the fact Bucky hadn't mentioned it to him told her she should probably step light on the details for him.

"Just to see if an old safehouse was still operational."

"Huh,"

He knew there was more to the story and Mallory waited, quickly trying to think of a solid lie that she could tell but he dropped it. It was rather nice to know he trusted her judgement enough to be allowed to kept in the dark about something. Steve dug his hands in his pockets, pivoting to signal for her to stop at the end of the corridor.

The facility was largely wide glass windows that looked out over the tumbling waterfalls of the river Banzi and far beyond, to the thick forests and verdant meadows of the farmland. Pinpricks of movement saw the people working in the fields, tending to animals, crops waving in fields, reduced to miniature figures by the distance. T'Challa had told her that in the opposite direction was the main city. They'd approached from that direction by T'Challa's jet when they'd arrived but it had been night-time so all Mallory remembered was lights that spoke to sheer volume of the populace. She couldn't wait to explore it properly when she got back.

"I never got the chance to say that I was sorry." Steve looked back at her with surprise, "I know you and Tony were close. It must've been difficult to go against him… to go against them all."

"It was for a good cause."

She nodded, "I know that. I gave everything up when I followed you but… I got it all back. T'Challa says he's managed to get my passport and licence to practise back. I get a shiny new job in a beautiful new country and access to the man I love."

He looked away from her. His voice was steady but the hand he took out of his pocket became clenched and Mallory regretted bringing it up.

"You were only an ally. Small fry. No offence. If the king were to do that with me…" Steve paused, then blew out his cheeks to hiss as he imagined it, "Well, it wouldn't win him any favours with the U.N."

"All the same…"

Steve looked back at her. There was pain in the crease of his brow but his mouth was lifted in a small, grateful smile. Mallory nodded to acknowledge it then changed the subject.

"Where are you going?"

"It's best if I don't tell you, Mal. People'll still be suspicious of you, even though you've been officially cleared so I don't wanna put you in any uncomfortable positions."

She snorted, "Steve, I was part of a Nazi organisation for a while and my only defence 'I didn't know'. I'm used to weird looks." A clawing suspicion rose in her and she grinned at him, "You wouldn't happen to be seeing a friend and paying him ten bucks?"

He laughed and jokingly tapped his finger against his nose. "Need to know."

"Sure. Tell Sam I said hi." She looked him up and down, "I'm gonna miss you. Don't do anything dumb."

"Pft, the last time someone said that to me I got myself injected with soldier serum. I'll be fine." He inclined his head politely, every inch the forties-gentlemen he was, "Doctor."

"Captain."

He touched her arm and then walked off, turning his head around once to give her a small wave which she returned. She stood still, his thick boots growing ever more distant until they vanished from sound all together. Mallory hoped he would be okay, that he would be able to rescue Sam and the others, that some semblance of the Avengers would be able to work some things out. Not that it was needed right now as the crisis was over but these things kept happening. It wouldn't be long before someone would start again to try and take over Earth again or something. She drew in a breath and told herself not to think about all that.

Mallory lingered in the hallway, unsure of what to do. The jet wasn't due until 5 o'clock and because her licences had just been reinstated, she didn't start work until Monday so she couldn't go poking around the labs and medical facilities without an escort. A whole afternoon lay before her, uneasy and long. Maybe explore the facility? But she'd seen most of it and she didn't want to get in anybody's way. Maybe pack? It was only a few days in Paris but she was determined to fulfil Bucky's request and make sure she got a selfie with the Eiffel Tower to send to her mother and she would not be pleased if Mallory was pictured wearing horrible clothes. Her room it was then. She turned and began ambling back towards the room. Just ahead of her, the swish sound of the doors activated and a young woman came bustling through, looking harassed.

"Aah, there you are!"

She was a young woman, light brown eyes and a short afro. A braid was woven with a green-gold thread on her left temple, following the curve of her head, the colour matching the gold-green of her blouse.

"Can I help you, Ms…"

"Ceri. Ceri Anagonye." Ceri extended her other hand and they shook quickly, "I need to speak with you, Dr. Smith. We just need to clear some things up."

It sounded ominous. Mallory wasn't sure she was allowed to refuse so she blankly followed Ceri down the hall. Ceri lead the way through the motion doors and into a bland conference room where they could talk. Ceri motioned for her to sit and kindly poured her a glass of water before sitting opposite her. She smiled politely at Mallory then raised her wrist, the kimoya beads clacking against one another then pressed the bead set at her wrist to make a small screen project from it. She flicked her finger up to send the screen towards the projector to the room, making it bigger.

It looked like a legal document, winding and long with several signatures and seals.

"I work as an assistant in the legal department. We've encountered an official complaint filed by a lawyer on behalf of a Mr Helmut Zemo. Are you familiar with him?"

"What?!"
She sounded shrill even to her own ears and Ceri winced involuntarily, then forced herself back to composure.

"What… what do you mean, complaint?!"

Ceri folded her arms on the table, "Mr Zemo alleges you assaulted him whilst in the kings' custody and he intends to press charges unless you apologise."

Mallory pressed her cold fingertips to her temple, hoping they would soothe the sudden, violent headache that sprouted like a weed. Ceri waited patiently for Mallory to gather herself but the longer they spent in silence, the more her thoughts felt fractured. Ceri eventually jumped in to fill the silence by highlighting more passages of the complaint.

"Zemo alleges that outside Siberia, you attacked him by-" She paused to quote directly, "'kicked him several times with your foot, shouting abuse whilst the king stood by and watched for several seconds, before the king physically lifted the accused under the arms away'."

I mean, he's not wrong. Shame began to creep in as the more Ceri explained, the more she realized it was all true. Zemo had been able to file a complaint because Mallory had assaulted him and maybe T'Challa did let her, just for a second, to express her rage at him for framing Bucky and ruining the Avengers.

"Mr Zemo has promised to drop the charges if you apologise. In person."

Bombshell dropped, Mallory found herself yelling at the poor woman, "He wants me to fly to fucking Berlin to say sorry to him?! After what he did to us?!"

Ceri winced but the movement was so slight she easily played it off as a slight shake of her shoulders and composed her face to a detached professionalism, clearly used to dealing with yelling clients. Mallory let her head drop back in her chair to look at the ceiling as a blush crept hot across her cheeks. She breathed in hard, then out even harder. Part of her calmed enough to express herself without yelling but when she spoke her voice was still steel, walking a fine line between monotone and hysterics.

"I'm sorry, Miss Anagonye. I'm just… in shock, is all."

"Thank you, Dr. Smith." The legal assistant relaxed somewhat and gestured for Mallory to take a sip of water. She did, finding the action more giving her hands something to do then actually needing a drink. "I'm sure you're aware but if this charge goes through, you will more than likely lose your licence to practise medicine."

Mallory nodded and took another drink lest she start swearing.

"Therefore, it is our advice and of the king's strongest insistence that you fly to Vienna. The plane that was sending you to Paris has been rerouted, and we'll be able to fly you to Paris from Vienna if all goes well. However, it's up to you. If you don't wish to apologise…"

She just trailed off, knowing full well that they both knew she wasn't going to do that.

Mallory put the glass down on the table and glanced at the complaint. She could see near the top, Zemo had signed his signature in tight, short loops. Something felt wrong about this. Zemo was in prison and would not see the light of day for the rest of his life so perhaps this was a last-ditch attempt to wield some power. But in all the horrors he'd committed, he didn't seem like a bravado type, a Tony Stark swaggering his way through life. He'd apologised to T'Challa and in a sick sort of way Mallory knew he'd meant it. He reminded her, quite uncomfortably, of the Soldier; quiet, calculating, a man with cold eyes and his thoughts hidden behind the enigma of his face.

He wanted her for something then. He needed to speak to her, or maybe he wanted to talk about Bucky or… the thoughts swirled around her brain. The headache that sprouted became aching and Mallory took a sip of the cold water and pressed the glass to her forehead. Ceri watched silently.

"I can leave for Vienna now?" Mallory asked, after she put the glass back on the table.

Ceri nodded, "Yes. The jet's waiting for you."

A/N: So, I'm watching Netflix, minding my own business when I get a notification that somebody left a review on this story in 2019 and it was honestly like somebody had ran me over with a truck. All these feelings came flooding back, of how amazing it was to read reviews after a fresh chapter and being so excited to start a new one, and I basically ignored what I was watching and reread everything I'd written and became so heart-stoppingly inspired that I knew I had finish this fic..

So, I end this chapter with an apology first and then a promise – I am beyond sorry that I abandoned this story. Believe me, I've BEEN THERE. I know how frustrating, how annoying it is to have a story abandoned mid-flow especially considering we were so close to the end of our journey. I have a multitude of excuses, many valid, many not but mainly I just lost all enthusiasm for any writing. It's only in the last year I've really picked back up with my original stuff when that review just kickstarted everything fic-related back in gear. Thankfully, our titular solider and doctor were left with a happyish ending. I think if it had've been a cliffhanger someone might've hit me.

And the promise? I promise I will finish this story. Even if it kills me. Even if absolutely no one reads it. I owe it to the followers, the people who've reviewed and the people who will inevitably stumble upon this fic through their desperate trawls for OC/Bucky fanfic. You all matter. How many chapters that will take, I don't know. We'll see. Also, apologies to any reader who speaks Xhosa – it's a beautiful language and I'm sorry that I'm so lazy that I literally named the river we saw in Black Panther the word for 'wide'. Did I spell it wrong? Probably. Sorry dudes.

I love you all. Hope your lives have been as wild, enriching and filled with learning experiences as mine have been since we last spoke.