[Marvel: Fiction] "Finding Home" [Shuri/Everett Ross, G]
Title: Finding Home
Author: Ami Ven
Prompt: comment_fic from way back in 2018
Word Count: 4,228
Rating: G
Fandom: Black Panther
Pairing(s): Shuri/Everett Ross
Setting: post-Black Panther movie / not Wakanda Forever compliant
Summary: Everett got regular texts from Shuri, cheerful everyday conversations, odd emoticons he didn’t always understand, long science rants he didn’t even begin to follow but read through anyway.
Finding Home
He honestly hadn’t meant anything by it at first.
As one of the few outsiders to ever visit Wakanda, Everett Ross found himself, by default, the expert. In the months after the nation had revealed its true face to the world, he was called in to testify at briefings, meetings and advisory councils, one after the other. T’Challa also attended many of the same meetings, and when the agency heads and military brass learned that Everett was friendly with Wakanda’s new king, he was called to speak at more briefings and advisory committees.
At the first meeting, it had seemed polite to ask after T’Challa’s sister, purely a social nicety, though Everett was honestly pleased to hear that she was well. After that, it was mostly habit that he kept asking T’Challa to “Please pass along my regard to Princess Shuri,” until one afternoon, the king just smiled at him.
“You may tell her yourself, Agent Ross,” he said. “My sister soon begins the fall semester at MIT.”
“She does?” Shuri had only been sixteen the last time he’d seen her - had it really been two years already? “Well, I’m sure she’ll be fantastic.”
T’Challa was called away before he could answer, and Everett thought no more about the conversation.
Then, he got a text message on his backup burner phone, which only two other people in the CIA were supposed to know the number for - 2nd St coffee - 15 mins
Everett blinked.
He was in Boston for a covert meeting, but his contact wasn’t due until later that night. And no trained spy would use the winky-face emoticon that had come after the message, so when he arrived at the coffee shop, he was surprised not to be surprised to find Shuri sitting at a table outside.
She looked like the other college students there - her hair pulled up messily, wearing an oversized hoodie and plaid lounge pants - but there were enough businessmen in the shop’s clientele that he didn’t look completely out of place sitting across from her in his suit.
“Your Highness,” he greeted, but she reached over the table to smack his arm.
“Don’t call me that,” Shuri snapped. “Here, I am an ordinary girl, going to school with other ordinary girls.”
Everett smiled. “You are anything but ordinary. And should I ask how you not only knew my location, but also the number to an unlisted and supposedly secure phone?”
“I think it would be better for both of us if you didn’t,” she said, cheerfully.
“I think you’re right.” He continued to smile at her for a moment, then realized what he was doing and shook his head. “I’m sorry. You wanted to see me, so there must have been a reason. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I just got impatient. Didn’t my brother tell you I was starting school in America?”
“Yes, he did,” Everett said, slowly. “But I thought he was just being polite. Making small talk.”
Shuri muttered something under her breath that sounded like men, “He was always pleased to see you at those meetings, to have someone who talked to him like he was a person.”
“Just because he’s-” at her sudden warning look, he lowered his voice, “-king, doesn’t mean he’s not a person.”
“Still,” she said. “We were in hiding for so long. Lying to pretty much everyone. There are still prejudices for many in the rest of the world to overcome.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, absently, then frowned. “Wait, are you experiencing any of that prejudice? Because there are certainly parts of America that aren’t particularly welcoming to people of color or immigrants or smart young women or…”
He trailed off when Shuri began to laugh. “I am fine, Agent Ross,” she assured him. “Drink your coffee.”
“I haven’t ordered-” Everett began, just as a server set a to-go cup on the table in front of him.
Shuri grinned and held up the phone she’d been fiddling with. “There’s an app for everything.”
“Of course there is,” he laughed.
And he wasn’t at all surprised that she knew how he took his coffee.
*
After that, Everett got regular texts from Shuri, cheerful everyday conversations, odd emoticons he didn’t always understand, long science rants he didn’t even begin to follow but read through anyway.
Most of his life was classified but he replied with what he could share, stories from his own college days or just vague encouragements. She had the number for each new burner phone within a day, and texted his private unlisted personal cell, too.
Everett enjoyed the messages, little spots of color in his otherwise dreary life, until he realized that she must have better things to do with her time than texting him.
Shouldn’t you be out with your friends? he texted her. I’m sure you have friends your own age.
Of course I do, she wrote back, and he could almost see her incredulous smirk. But you are my first friend from outside Wakanda, so that makes you special.
It probably said something about Everett’s life that that was the nicest thing anyone had said to him in a long time.
Also, she added, while he was still deciding how to reply, I can go out with my friends AND text with you.
Of course you can, he sent back. You’re a genius.
*
The next time Everett was in the Boston area, his phone - a brand new burner - beeped with an incoming text. He glanced down at it and blinked in surprise.
Coffee, same place, ten minutes
He had been on an op that had gone very badly. They had eliminated their target, but a rookie agent had been shot and Everett’s cover had been blown. He’d gotten the kid to a hospital, then taken off, switching cars twice. He was operating on only a few hours of sleep in the last few days, and hadn’t even realized where he was going until he’d gotten Shuri’s message.
Maybe it was his subconscious trying to tell him something, sending him in her direction in the first place, but he was too tired to try and figure it out. He just let out a long breath and turned his car onto the road that lead to the coffee shop.
The bell above the door rang as he entered. It was almost eight at night and there were only a few other customers - a couple holding hands across their table, a businessman working at his laptop, four kids with a dozen text books spread out around them.
Shuri had been sitting by the window, but she got up, frowning. “You look terrible.”
He huffed out a laugh. “Thanks.”
“No, I mean, you’re hurt! Should I get you to a hospital?”
“No, I’m not hurt, I’m…” Everett blinked at her. “I’m not even sure what I’m doing here.”
She frowned again. “I invited you for coffee.”
“No, I mean in Boston. I was - I was nearby, but I didn’t mean to be here. I just drove.”
“Did you want to be here?” Shuri asked.
“Yes,” he said, quickly. “I mean…”
He trailed off, with no idea how to finish that sentence. Shuri stared at him for a long moment, then turned to the café counter.
“Another double-shot mochachino, please,” she said, “and an herbal tea, to go.”
Everett frowned. “What?”
She collected up her things as the servers made their drinks, then handed him both cups and grabbed his elbow, tugging him toward the door.
He went, letting her lead him across the parking lot, passed his borrowed (stolen) car and down a well-worn shortcut back to the MIT campus. He didn’t really pay attention to the paths or buildings until Shuri led them into one and stopped at a door, pulling out her keys.
“Your dorm?” Everett asked. “Wait, are you allowed to have boys in here?”
She laughed. “It’s the twenty-first century, Agent Ross. Come on.”
Shuri opened the door and pushed him through, then pressed her hand to a panel on the wall beside it and waited as the walls glowed faintly blue.
“You’re safe now,” she said, softly. “My security is the best in the world.
He managed a smile. “I’m sure you’re right.”
She smiled back, then took one of the cups he was still carrying and pushed him toward an armchair in the corner of the room. “Sit and drink your tea.”
The first sip was slightly bitter, but it was warm and soothing and he quickly got used to the taste. By the time he’d drunk about half, his brain had caught back up with him and looked around the room, curious.
It was a single room, with one bed and dresser in the corner, a bookshelf and TV beside it. There had clearly been a standard-issue desk, but Shuri had taken it over, adding several more working surfaces and an elaborate shelf system above them. Every inch of it was covered with tools and parts, except for a single bare space directly in front of the chair where Shuri was sitting, bent over her current project.
“Is that for a class?” Everett asked.
“No,” said Shuri, not looking up. “This is for Okaye. Just because I’m in school doesn’t mean my people don’t still need me.”
“What is it? If you’re allowed to tell me, of course.”
“I’m allowed,” she smiled.
He sipped his tea and listened to her explanation - she lost him about two sentences in, though he had enough technical skills himself to pick out a few phrases along the way.
“That’s amazing!” said Everett, when she finished. “I mean, I barely understood half of that, but it still sounds amazing.”
Shuri ducked her head, grinning. “I’m only fooling around.”
“And it’s still miles above what anyone else can do. Is everyone in Wakanda just so used to your genius that they don’t see how absolutely astonishing you are?”
“Maybe they are,” she said, then smiled. “Maybe I should keep you around to tell me how brilliant I am.”
Everett smiled back. “I’ll be happy to tell you, if you don’t mind it by text. You know all of my numbers, even the ones I don’t have yet.”
“Yes, I do.”
“I should be annoyed by that, but I-” He broke off, yawning widely. “Sorry. You’re not boring me, I promise. I’ve just been working and I haven’t slept for a few days.”
“Are you working now?” she asked.
He shook his head. “It’s over. It - well, it went badly. My superiors will expect me to lie low for a few days.”
“Then you have plenty of time to sleep now. Take off your coat.”
Everett blinked at her. “What?”
“Your coat,” she repeated. “Jacket. The top part of your suit. Probably the tie, too.”
“What?” he said again. “I can’t sleep here.”
“Of course you can,” she said. “This room is secure enough for a princess of Wakanda, you’ll be fine.”
“Not that,” he said, but allowed her to tug him out of the chair and pull off his suit jacket. “You just said, you’re a princess, Shuri. You shouldn’t have strange men staying the night in your room.”
“You are certainly strange,” she grinned, then added, “It’s the twenty-first century, Agent Ross. I’m an adult, you’re an adult, what we do is our own business.”
“You know that isn’t true, Shuri. What about your reputation?”
“Maybe my reputation would be improved by having a mysterious older man spend the night.”
“That isn’t-”
“Relax,” said Shuri. “I’m not the only rich kid or foreign dignitary here. If anyone asks, which I’m sure they won’t, I’ll say that my overprotective brother, the king, sent an extra security agent.”
“I - Okay,” said Everett.
He had a t-shirt on under his button-down shirt, so he took that off, too, then toed off his shoes.
“There you go,” said Shuri.
Everett looked up to see that she had moved the books and papers from the room’s single bed, and was turning down the covers.
“Oh, no,” he said, “I definitely can’t put you out of your bed.”
“I won’t be using it. I woke up late today, I’ve had six double espressos since lunch, and I want to keep working on this project.” She paused, then laid a gentle hand on his arm. “When was the last time you let someone look after you for a change?”
He smiled. “It’s been a while.”
“Then, sleep.” Shuri playfully pushed him toward the bed, then turned out the main light, leaving the room with only a halo of illumination from her desk lamp. “Good night, Agent Ross.”
He slid under the covers, already half-asleep. “You know, once a girl invites me to sleep in her bed, I think she can call me by my first name.”
Shuri laughed. “Good night, Everett.”
It was the best sleep he’d had in years.
They met for coffee regularly after that - or irregularly, because it could be weeks or months between meetings, depending on both of their schedules. But Shuri texted him almost every day, sometimes long explanations of her work, sometimes only a single emoticon, and Everett had been forced to hide a smile in more than one very official CIA briefing.
*
“Have you ever thought about another line of work?” asked the Black Panther.
“There are times,” said Everett, ducking out of the way as a bolt of sizzling energy hurtled past. “Especially now that there are supervillains. This was supposed to be a RICO bust.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“Organized crime,” the CIA agent explained. “Good thing you Avengers were tracking this guy.”
“We weren’t,” said T’Challa. Across the battered parking lot, Iron Man and Captain America had their apparent supervillain boxed in, deflecting his lightning blasts with shield and repulsars. “My sister intercepted your request for backup and your agency’s reply. Or rather, their lack of it.”
Everett sighed. “Under other circumstances, I would be concerned about this kind of security breech, but I’m just grateful your sister enjoys listening in on encrypted government communications.”
His face was hidden behind the mask, but T’Challa still managed to look incredulous. “She has been monitoring you, Agent Ross. Shuri can be very protective of the people she thinks of as hers.”
“I’m not-” Everett began. “I mean, I’m grateful for - But I wouldn’t-”
T’Challa put a hand on his shoulder. “You have been a good friend to my sister. Is it really so surprising that she would keep watch over you?”
“Yes,” said Everett, honestly, and the other man laughed.
*
He almost missed the invitation.
It had gotten buried in a pile of junk mail while he’d been out on a series of missions, and he’d been tempted to throw the whole stack straight into the recycling bin.
But the corner of the cream-colored envelope had caught his eye, and a month later he found himself at the MIT graduation ceremony, watching her walk across the stage to accept her diploma.
Everett clapped loudly when her name was called. In her cap and gown, she was every inch the princess. Her mother and brother - and several members of the Dora Milaje - were in the stands, in the fancier section reserved for the wealthy and important families.
When the ceremony was over, he turned to go and found Okoye standing beside him.
“The princess requests to see you,” she said, ignoring the way he jumped in surprise.
“I’m sure she’s busy,” he began, then sighed. “That wasn’t a request was it?”
“No,” said Okoye.
Everett followed her through the crowd, hurrying to keep up as people parted around her. He was just apologizing to a large family they’d disrupted when someone shouted his name and he found himself suddenly caught up in an excited hug.
“I’m so glad you came!” Shuri said, releasing him.
He smiled, “Of course,” then bowed, “Your Majesties.”
T’Challa offered a handshake. “My sister was most insistent that you were invited. And I would offer my thanks for keeping an eye on her while she was in your country.”
“I’m sure it was more a matter of her keeping an eye on me,” said Everett, then turned back to Shuri, “But you’ll be going back home now, won’t you?”
She nodded. “I’m to be the head of our research division.”
“Wow That’s - I’m not at all surprised, because you’re a genius, Shuri, but it’s certainly impressive. And makes me very glad Wakanda is our ally.”
“As you should be,” said Queen Romonda.
Everett’s smile faltered, but Shuri swatted at his shoulder, grinning. “Mother is only joking.”
“Ah. Of course. But I’m sure you have a party or something to get to, I don’t want to keep you.”
“Yes,” Shuri agreed. “One last party with the girls before I go back home. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if you came along.”
“I’m honored,” he said, smiling, “But I haven’t been one of the girls for a long time. But you have fun.”
“Oh, I will,” she said, and ignored her brother’s disapproving look. Shuri leaned in to hug Everett again, then said, “Just because I will be far away doesn’t mean I won’t be looking out for you.”
He pulled back, still smiling. “I should probably be more worried about that. Don’t break too many laws, please.”
Shuri grinned. “No promises.”
*
For the second time, Everett woke up in Shuri’s lab.
Unlike the first time, he immediately heard the sound of running footsteps and the princess herself appeared in the doorway to his room.
“You’re awake,” she said, sounding relieved. “How do you feel?”
He smiled. “I must be in heaven, because I’ve got my very own angel.”
Shuri snorted. “Time to cut back on your medication, I think.” She fiddled with a control panel on the side of his bed. “How do you feel now?”
The pain crept in slowly, clearing his head. “I ache all over,” Everett said. “But otherwise I feel okay. What happened?”
“You almost died,” Shuri said, her voice tight. “You did - your heart stopped three times before we could get you here. Before I could fix you.”
“I was shot,” Everett said, the memories filtering back slowly, fragmented. “Not just shot, I was- How did I survive that?
“You almost didn’t!” she said. “When you got her - I tried a few things I wouldn’t have ordinarily… well, things your FDA wouldn’t approve of…”
“I won’t tell them if you won’t.”
Shuri’s lip wobbled. “Stop being funny when I’m trying to be angry with you.”
“Hey,” he said, gently. It hurt to move, but he reached out to touch her shoulder. “Hey, I’m okay. You worked your magic and I’m okay.”
“It’s not magic, it’s technology. And it almost didn’t work.”
Everett winced, “Was it that bad?”
“There was so much blood,” she said, voice barely a whisper. “You were so pale, it was like you were already dead. I thought I’d lost you.”
He caught her hand. “I’m sorry. But the CIA shouldn’t have contacted you, we have doctors for this.”
Shuri shook her head. “They didn’t. I was monitoring you - I intercepted your emergency call and sent one of our ships to collect you.”
“That’s…” Everett tried to understand, but the pain was still making his brain a little fuzzy. “It’s been years since you came back to Wakanda, you…”
She smiled softly. “Get some rest.”
*
Even with Shuri’s magic - “Technology, Everett!” - his recovery still took a long time. When he was well enough to start moving around, he started to suggest going back to the United States, but T’Challa wouldn’t hear of it. Everett was assigned a set of rooms in the palace - and a series of Dora Milaje instructors to help with his physical therapy.
Shuri was seemingly always there, offering encouragement and gentle teasing in equal measure.
“Don’t you have a job?” Everett huffed at her, in the middle a long session, where he was mostly managing to remain upright.
She waved a dismissive hand. “I have simulations running.”
“So you’re just here to heckle me?”
“Is that not worth the effort?”
He snorted a laugh and started his exercise again. “And what are you going to do for fun when I’m well again and go home?”
To his surprise, her smile turned thoughtful. “We shall see about that.”
*
When he wasn’t doing his PT, Everett turned his attention to something he could do that didn’t require physical effort - learning more about Wakanda. Okoye was a surprisingly patient teacher, correcting his pronunciation as he attempted speaking Wakandan, bringing him a pile of children’s books for his attempts at reading it.
Shuri joined him at that, too, once he was a little more mobile. She led him on tours of the city, then the surrounding countryside. She acted as translator as he practiced his newly-learned Wakandan and introduced him to the local foods and customs.
“I’ll certainly miss this when I’m back in the States,” said Everett, around a mouthful of a Wakandan fruit-based dessert he still couldn’t pronounce properly.
“You don’t have to,” Shuri said.
He smiled. “Unlike you, princess, I don’t have the resources to have it shipped over.”
“No,” she said, reaching across the park bench for a napkin, “I mean, you could stay.”
“Shuri…”
“I know what your doctors said, Everett. You are recovering, but you will not be a field agent again. What would you do in America if you can’t work for the CIA?”
Everett let out a huff of laughter. “I don’t know.”
“Then stay here.”
“You say that like it’s easy.”
“Isn’t it?”
He closed his eyes for a moment, then turned to look at her. “Why me? Don’t - no jokes, no sarcasm, just… all this time, you’ve kept in contact, watched out for me. And I’m grateful you did, but I… why me?”
Shuri’s expression softened. “Honestly? I’m not sure why it started. You were new and American and interesting. Then, I started school in America and you were the only person there I already knew. But the more we talked… I like you, Everett. You are funny and kind and never used the fact that you knew the princess of Wakanda for personal gain.”
“What? Of course not.”
“And that is why I kept in contact, why I…”
“Shuri?”
“Why I fell in love with you.”
Everett blinked - she couldn’t have just said what he thought he heard. “Shuri?”
“I love you,” she repeated, more confident.
“Shuri, I… You can’t - you shouldn’t,” he corrected quickly, at her scowl. “You’re young and beautiful and amazing. You should want to be with someone your own age, someone as smart as you are, who can give you the kind of life you deserve.”
“I can give myself the life I deserve,” said Shuri. “There isn’t anyone as smart as me - and if there is, I am sure we would hate each other.”
She took the empty dessert wrapper from him, then took both of his hands in her own.
“All these years, just in texting and the occasional coffee, you have kept me grounded. When I would find myself getting lost in my experiments, I would get a text from you, something so amazingly ordinary, that it would bring me back down to Earth. What I need, what I want is not someone who can keep up with me, but someone who can be the place I come back to.”
Everett just looked at her for a long moment. She was still so young, but she was more than old enough to know her own mind, and if he was what she wanted…
“I…” he began, then smiled and squeezed her hand. “I’ve been thinking about retiring. You’re right, my days as a field agent are over. And I’m not really suited for office work. The past few months here - even with the torture that Okoye calls physical therapy - have been the happiest I’ve had in a long, long time. And I was so grateful for your friendship, I never even thought about anything more, but…”
“Then you’ll stay?” she asked. “With me?”
“I’ll stay,” agreed Everett. “And we’ll go about this the right way. Starting with a proper date - tomorrow night? I’ll pick you up and-” He froze. “We’ll have to tell your brother.”
Shuri laughed. “Oh, he already knows.”
*
“Shuri?”
Everett stepped into the lab, cautiously staying away from the tables of precarious-looking parts.
“Shuri, it’s time!”
She appeared around a bank of holograms. “I still have an hour,” she protested.
He smiled and held up a garment bag. “You still have to get dressed. We wouldn’t want the Wakandan Minister of Technology looking like she was just crawling around in a car engine.”
“I am working on a new engine configuration, as well you know.”
“Maybe, but I don’t understand any of it,” Everett laughed. “Except to know that you’re brilliant.”
She smiled back. “How do you know it’s brilliant if you don’t know what it is?”
“Easy. Because everything you do is brilliant. Now, come on. My one job here is to be on your arm at State functions and I can’t do that if we’re late.”
“And a wonderful job you do at it,” she agreed, laughing, until he kissed her.
THE END
Current Mood:
need coffee
Author: Ami Ven
Prompt: comment_fic from way back in 2018
Word Count: 4,228
Rating: G
Fandom: Black Panther
Pairing(s): Shuri/Everett Ross
Setting: post-Black Panther movie / not Wakanda Forever compliant
Summary: Everett got regular texts from Shuri, cheerful everyday conversations, odd emoticons he didn’t always understand, long science rants he didn’t even begin to follow but read through anyway.
Finding Home
He honestly hadn’t meant anything by it at first.
As one of the few outsiders to ever visit Wakanda, Everett Ross found himself, by default, the expert. In the months after the nation had revealed its true face to the world, he was called in to testify at briefings, meetings and advisory councils, one after the other. T’Challa also attended many of the same meetings, and when the agency heads and military brass learned that Everett was friendly with Wakanda’s new king, he was called to speak at more briefings and advisory committees.
At the first meeting, it had seemed polite to ask after T’Challa’s sister, purely a social nicety, though Everett was honestly pleased to hear that she was well. After that, it was mostly habit that he kept asking T’Challa to “Please pass along my regard to Princess Shuri,” until one afternoon, the king just smiled at him.
“You may tell her yourself, Agent Ross,” he said. “My sister soon begins the fall semester at MIT.”
“She does?” Shuri had only been sixteen the last time he’d seen her - had it really been two years already? “Well, I’m sure she’ll be fantastic.”
T’Challa was called away before he could answer, and Everett thought no more about the conversation.
Then, he got a text message on his backup burner phone, which only two other people in the CIA were supposed to know the number for - 2nd St coffee - 15 mins
Everett blinked.
He was in Boston for a covert meeting, but his contact wasn’t due until later that night. And no trained spy would use the winky-face emoticon that had come after the message, so when he arrived at the coffee shop, he was surprised not to be surprised to find Shuri sitting at a table outside.
She looked like the other college students there - her hair pulled up messily, wearing an oversized hoodie and plaid lounge pants - but there were enough businessmen in the shop’s clientele that he didn’t look completely out of place sitting across from her in his suit.
“Your Highness,” he greeted, but she reached over the table to smack his arm.
“Don’t call me that,” Shuri snapped. “Here, I am an ordinary girl, going to school with other ordinary girls.”
Everett smiled. “You are anything but ordinary. And should I ask how you not only knew my location, but also the number to an unlisted and supposedly secure phone?”
“I think it would be better for both of us if you didn’t,” she said, cheerfully.
“I think you’re right.” He continued to smile at her for a moment, then realized what he was doing and shook his head. “I’m sorry. You wanted to see me, so there must have been a reason. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I just got impatient. Didn’t my brother tell you I was starting school in America?”
“Yes, he did,” Everett said, slowly. “But I thought he was just being polite. Making small talk.”
Shuri muttered something under her breath that sounded like men, “He was always pleased to see you at those meetings, to have someone who talked to him like he was a person.”
“Just because he’s-” at her sudden warning look, he lowered his voice, “-king, doesn’t mean he’s not a person.”
“Still,” she said. “We were in hiding for so long. Lying to pretty much everyone. There are still prejudices for many in the rest of the world to overcome.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, absently, then frowned. “Wait, are you experiencing any of that prejudice? Because there are certainly parts of America that aren’t particularly welcoming to people of color or immigrants or smart young women or…”
He trailed off when Shuri began to laugh. “I am fine, Agent Ross,” she assured him. “Drink your coffee.”
“I haven’t ordered-” Everett began, just as a server set a to-go cup on the table in front of him.
Shuri grinned and held up the phone she’d been fiddling with. “There’s an app for everything.”
“Of course there is,” he laughed.
And he wasn’t at all surprised that she knew how he took his coffee.
*
After that, Everett got regular texts from Shuri, cheerful everyday conversations, odd emoticons he didn’t always understand, long science rants he didn’t even begin to follow but read through anyway.
Most of his life was classified but he replied with what he could share, stories from his own college days or just vague encouragements. She had the number for each new burner phone within a day, and texted his private unlisted personal cell, too.
Everett enjoyed the messages, little spots of color in his otherwise dreary life, until he realized that she must have better things to do with her time than texting him.
Shouldn’t you be out with your friends? he texted her. I’m sure you have friends your own age.
Of course I do, she wrote back, and he could almost see her incredulous smirk. But you are my first friend from outside Wakanda, so that makes you special.
It probably said something about Everett’s life that that was the nicest thing anyone had said to him in a long time.
Also, she added, while he was still deciding how to reply, I can go out with my friends AND text with you.
Of course you can, he sent back. You’re a genius.
*
The next time Everett was in the Boston area, his phone - a brand new burner - beeped with an incoming text. He glanced down at it and blinked in surprise.
Coffee, same place, ten minutes
He had been on an op that had gone very badly. They had eliminated their target, but a rookie agent had been shot and Everett’s cover had been blown. He’d gotten the kid to a hospital, then taken off, switching cars twice. He was operating on only a few hours of sleep in the last few days, and hadn’t even realized where he was going until he’d gotten Shuri’s message.
Maybe it was his subconscious trying to tell him something, sending him in her direction in the first place, but he was too tired to try and figure it out. He just let out a long breath and turned his car onto the road that lead to the coffee shop.
The bell above the door rang as he entered. It was almost eight at night and there were only a few other customers - a couple holding hands across their table, a businessman working at his laptop, four kids with a dozen text books spread out around them.
Shuri had been sitting by the window, but she got up, frowning. “You look terrible.”
He huffed out a laugh. “Thanks.”
“No, I mean, you’re hurt! Should I get you to a hospital?”
“No, I’m not hurt, I’m…” Everett blinked at her. “I’m not even sure what I’m doing here.”
She frowned again. “I invited you for coffee.”
“No, I mean in Boston. I was - I was nearby, but I didn’t mean to be here. I just drove.”
“Did you want to be here?” Shuri asked.
“Yes,” he said, quickly. “I mean…”
He trailed off, with no idea how to finish that sentence. Shuri stared at him for a long moment, then turned to the café counter.
“Another double-shot mochachino, please,” she said, “and an herbal tea, to go.”
Everett frowned. “What?”
She collected up her things as the servers made their drinks, then handed him both cups and grabbed his elbow, tugging him toward the door.
He went, letting her lead him across the parking lot, passed his borrowed (stolen) car and down a well-worn shortcut back to the MIT campus. He didn’t really pay attention to the paths or buildings until Shuri led them into one and stopped at a door, pulling out her keys.
“Your dorm?” Everett asked. “Wait, are you allowed to have boys in here?”
She laughed. “It’s the twenty-first century, Agent Ross. Come on.”
Shuri opened the door and pushed him through, then pressed her hand to a panel on the wall beside it and waited as the walls glowed faintly blue.
“You’re safe now,” she said, softly. “My security is the best in the world.
He managed a smile. “I’m sure you’re right.”
She smiled back, then took one of the cups he was still carrying and pushed him toward an armchair in the corner of the room. “Sit and drink your tea.”
The first sip was slightly bitter, but it was warm and soothing and he quickly got used to the taste. By the time he’d drunk about half, his brain had caught back up with him and looked around the room, curious.
It was a single room, with one bed and dresser in the corner, a bookshelf and TV beside it. There had clearly been a standard-issue desk, but Shuri had taken it over, adding several more working surfaces and an elaborate shelf system above them. Every inch of it was covered with tools and parts, except for a single bare space directly in front of the chair where Shuri was sitting, bent over her current project.
“Is that for a class?” Everett asked.
“No,” said Shuri, not looking up. “This is for Okaye. Just because I’m in school doesn’t mean my people don’t still need me.”
“What is it? If you’re allowed to tell me, of course.”
“I’m allowed,” she smiled.
He sipped his tea and listened to her explanation - she lost him about two sentences in, though he had enough technical skills himself to pick out a few phrases along the way.
“That’s amazing!” said Everett, when she finished. “I mean, I barely understood half of that, but it still sounds amazing.”
Shuri ducked her head, grinning. “I’m only fooling around.”
“And it’s still miles above what anyone else can do. Is everyone in Wakanda just so used to your genius that they don’t see how absolutely astonishing you are?”
“Maybe they are,” she said, then smiled. “Maybe I should keep you around to tell me how brilliant I am.”
Everett smiled back. “I’ll be happy to tell you, if you don’t mind it by text. You know all of my numbers, even the ones I don’t have yet.”
“Yes, I do.”
“I should be annoyed by that, but I-” He broke off, yawning widely. “Sorry. You’re not boring me, I promise. I’ve just been working and I haven’t slept for a few days.”
“Are you working now?” she asked.
He shook his head. “It’s over. It - well, it went badly. My superiors will expect me to lie low for a few days.”
“Then you have plenty of time to sleep now. Take off your coat.”
Everett blinked at her. “What?”
“Your coat,” she repeated. “Jacket. The top part of your suit. Probably the tie, too.”
“What?” he said again. “I can’t sleep here.”
“Of course you can,” she said. “This room is secure enough for a princess of Wakanda, you’ll be fine.”
“Not that,” he said, but allowed her to tug him out of the chair and pull off his suit jacket. “You just said, you’re a princess, Shuri. You shouldn’t have strange men staying the night in your room.”
“You are certainly strange,” she grinned, then added, “It’s the twenty-first century, Agent Ross. I’m an adult, you’re an adult, what we do is our own business.”
“You know that isn’t true, Shuri. What about your reputation?”
“Maybe my reputation would be improved by having a mysterious older man spend the night.”
“That isn’t-”
“Relax,” said Shuri. “I’m not the only rich kid or foreign dignitary here. If anyone asks, which I’m sure they won’t, I’ll say that my overprotective brother, the king, sent an extra security agent.”
“I - Okay,” said Everett.
He had a t-shirt on under his button-down shirt, so he took that off, too, then toed off his shoes.
“There you go,” said Shuri.
Everett looked up to see that she had moved the books and papers from the room’s single bed, and was turning down the covers.
“Oh, no,” he said, “I definitely can’t put you out of your bed.”
“I won’t be using it. I woke up late today, I’ve had six double espressos since lunch, and I want to keep working on this project.” She paused, then laid a gentle hand on his arm. “When was the last time you let someone look after you for a change?”
He smiled. “It’s been a while.”
“Then, sleep.” Shuri playfully pushed him toward the bed, then turned out the main light, leaving the room with only a halo of illumination from her desk lamp. “Good night, Agent Ross.”
He slid under the covers, already half-asleep. “You know, once a girl invites me to sleep in her bed, I think she can call me by my first name.”
Shuri laughed. “Good night, Everett.”
It was the best sleep he’d had in years.
They met for coffee regularly after that - or irregularly, because it could be weeks or months between meetings, depending on both of their schedules. But Shuri texted him almost every day, sometimes long explanations of her work, sometimes only a single emoticon, and Everett had been forced to hide a smile in more than one very official CIA briefing.
*
“Have you ever thought about another line of work?” asked the Black Panther.
“There are times,” said Everett, ducking out of the way as a bolt of sizzling energy hurtled past. “Especially now that there are supervillains. This was supposed to be a RICO bust.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“Organized crime,” the CIA agent explained. “Good thing you Avengers were tracking this guy.”
“We weren’t,” said T’Challa. Across the battered parking lot, Iron Man and Captain America had their apparent supervillain boxed in, deflecting his lightning blasts with shield and repulsars. “My sister intercepted your request for backup and your agency’s reply. Or rather, their lack of it.”
Everett sighed. “Under other circumstances, I would be concerned about this kind of security breech, but I’m just grateful your sister enjoys listening in on encrypted government communications.”
His face was hidden behind the mask, but T’Challa still managed to look incredulous. “She has been monitoring you, Agent Ross. Shuri can be very protective of the people she thinks of as hers.”
“I’m not-” Everett began. “I mean, I’m grateful for - But I wouldn’t-”
T’Challa put a hand on his shoulder. “You have been a good friend to my sister. Is it really so surprising that she would keep watch over you?”
“Yes,” said Everett, honestly, and the other man laughed.
*
He almost missed the invitation.
It had gotten buried in a pile of junk mail while he’d been out on a series of missions, and he’d been tempted to throw the whole stack straight into the recycling bin.
But the corner of the cream-colored envelope had caught his eye, and a month later he found himself at the MIT graduation ceremony, watching her walk across the stage to accept her diploma.
Everett clapped loudly when her name was called. In her cap and gown, she was every inch the princess. Her mother and brother - and several members of the Dora Milaje - were in the stands, in the fancier section reserved for the wealthy and important families.
When the ceremony was over, he turned to go and found Okoye standing beside him.
“The princess requests to see you,” she said, ignoring the way he jumped in surprise.
“I’m sure she’s busy,” he began, then sighed. “That wasn’t a request was it?”
“No,” said Okoye.
Everett followed her through the crowd, hurrying to keep up as people parted around her. He was just apologizing to a large family they’d disrupted when someone shouted his name and he found himself suddenly caught up in an excited hug.
“I’m so glad you came!” Shuri said, releasing him.
He smiled, “Of course,” then bowed, “Your Majesties.”
T’Challa offered a handshake. “My sister was most insistent that you were invited. And I would offer my thanks for keeping an eye on her while she was in your country.”
“I’m sure it was more a matter of her keeping an eye on me,” said Everett, then turned back to Shuri, “But you’ll be going back home now, won’t you?”
She nodded. “I’m to be the head of our research division.”
“Wow That’s - I’m not at all surprised, because you’re a genius, Shuri, but it’s certainly impressive. And makes me very glad Wakanda is our ally.”
“As you should be,” said Queen Romonda.
Everett’s smile faltered, but Shuri swatted at his shoulder, grinning. “Mother is only joking.”
“Ah. Of course. But I’m sure you have a party or something to get to, I don’t want to keep you.”
“Yes,” Shuri agreed. “One last party with the girls before I go back home. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if you came along.”
“I’m honored,” he said, smiling, “But I haven’t been one of the girls for a long time. But you have fun.”
“Oh, I will,” she said, and ignored her brother’s disapproving look. Shuri leaned in to hug Everett again, then said, “Just because I will be far away doesn’t mean I won’t be looking out for you.”
He pulled back, still smiling. “I should probably be more worried about that. Don’t break too many laws, please.”
Shuri grinned. “No promises.”
*
For the second time, Everett woke up in Shuri’s lab.
Unlike the first time, he immediately heard the sound of running footsteps and the princess herself appeared in the doorway to his room.
“You’re awake,” she said, sounding relieved. “How do you feel?”
He smiled. “I must be in heaven, because I’ve got my very own angel.”
Shuri snorted. “Time to cut back on your medication, I think.” She fiddled with a control panel on the side of his bed. “How do you feel now?”
The pain crept in slowly, clearing his head. “I ache all over,” Everett said. “But otherwise I feel okay. What happened?”
“You almost died,” Shuri said, her voice tight. “You did - your heart stopped three times before we could get you here. Before I could fix you.”
“I was shot,” Everett said, the memories filtering back slowly, fragmented. “Not just shot, I was- How did I survive that?
“You almost didn’t!” she said. “When you got her - I tried a few things I wouldn’t have ordinarily… well, things your FDA wouldn’t approve of…”
“I won’t tell them if you won’t.”
Shuri’s lip wobbled. “Stop being funny when I’m trying to be angry with you.”
“Hey,” he said, gently. It hurt to move, but he reached out to touch her shoulder. “Hey, I’m okay. You worked your magic and I’m okay.”
“It’s not magic, it’s technology. And it almost didn’t work.”
Everett winced, “Was it that bad?”
“There was so much blood,” she said, voice barely a whisper. “You were so pale, it was like you were already dead. I thought I’d lost you.”
He caught her hand. “I’m sorry. But the CIA shouldn’t have contacted you, we have doctors for this.”
Shuri shook her head. “They didn’t. I was monitoring you - I intercepted your emergency call and sent one of our ships to collect you.”
“That’s…” Everett tried to understand, but the pain was still making his brain a little fuzzy. “It’s been years since you came back to Wakanda, you…”
She smiled softly. “Get some rest.”
*
Even with Shuri’s magic - “Technology, Everett!” - his recovery still took a long time. When he was well enough to start moving around, he started to suggest going back to the United States, but T’Challa wouldn’t hear of it. Everett was assigned a set of rooms in the palace - and a series of Dora Milaje instructors to help with his physical therapy.
Shuri was seemingly always there, offering encouragement and gentle teasing in equal measure.
“Don’t you have a job?” Everett huffed at her, in the middle a long session, where he was mostly managing to remain upright.
She waved a dismissive hand. “I have simulations running.”
“So you’re just here to heckle me?”
“Is that not worth the effort?”
He snorted a laugh and started his exercise again. “And what are you going to do for fun when I’m well again and go home?”
To his surprise, her smile turned thoughtful. “We shall see about that.”
*
When he wasn’t doing his PT, Everett turned his attention to something he could do that didn’t require physical effort - learning more about Wakanda. Okoye was a surprisingly patient teacher, correcting his pronunciation as he attempted speaking Wakandan, bringing him a pile of children’s books for his attempts at reading it.
Shuri joined him at that, too, once he was a little more mobile. She led him on tours of the city, then the surrounding countryside. She acted as translator as he practiced his newly-learned Wakandan and introduced him to the local foods and customs.
“I’ll certainly miss this when I’m back in the States,” said Everett, around a mouthful of a Wakandan fruit-based dessert he still couldn’t pronounce properly.
“You don’t have to,” Shuri said.
He smiled. “Unlike you, princess, I don’t have the resources to have it shipped over.”
“No,” she said, reaching across the park bench for a napkin, “I mean, you could stay.”
“Shuri…”
“I know what your doctors said, Everett. You are recovering, but you will not be a field agent again. What would you do in America if you can’t work for the CIA?”
Everett let out a huff of laughter. “I don’t know.”
“Then stay here.”
“You say that like it’s easy.”
“Isn’t it?”
He closed his eyes for a moment, then turned to look at her. “Why me? Don’t - no jokes, no sarcasm, just… all this time, you’ve kept in contact, watched out for me. And I’m grateful you did, but I… why me?”
Shuri’s expression softened. “Honestly? I’m not sure why it started. You were new and American and interesting. Then, I started school in America and you were the only person there I already knew. But the more we talked… I like you, Everett. You are funny and kind and never used the fact that you knew the princess of Wakanda for personal gain.”
“What? Of course not.”
“And that is why I kept in contact, why I…”
“Shuri?”
“Why I fell in love with you.”
Everett blinked - she couldn’t have just said what he thought he heard. “Shuri?”
“I love you,” she repeated, more confident.
“Shuri, I… You can’t - you shouldn’t,” he corrected quickly, at her scowl. “You’re young and beautiful and amazing. You should want to be with someone your own age, someone as smart as you are, who can give you the kind of life you deserve.”
“I can give myself the life I deserve,” said Shuri. “There isn’t anyone as smart as me - and if there is, I am sure we would hate each other.”
She took the empty dessert wrapper from him, then took both of his hands in her own.
“All these years, just in texting and the occasional coffee, you have kept me grounded. When I would find myself getting lost in my experiments, I would get a text from you, something so amazingly ordinary, that it would bring me back down to Earth. What I need, what I want is not someone who can keep up with me, but someone who can be the place I come back to.”
Everett just looked at her for a long moment. She was still so young, but she was more than old enough to know her own mind, and if he was what she wanted…
“I…” he began, then smiled and squeezed her hand. “I’ve been thinking about retiring. You’re right, my days as a field agent are over. And I’m not really suited for office work. The past few months here - even with the torture that Okoye calls physical therapy - have been the happiest I’ve had in a long, long time. And I was so grateful for your friendship, I never even thought about anything more, but…”
“Then you’ll stay?” she asked. “With me?”
“I’ll stay,” agreed Everett. “And we’ll go about this the right way. Starting with a proper date - tomorrow night? I’ll pick you up and-” He froze. “We’ll have to tell your brother.”
Shuri laughed. “Oh, he already knows.”
*
“Shuri?”
Everett stepped into the lab, cautiously staying away from the tables of precarious-looking parts.
“Shuri, it’s time!”
She appeared around a bank of holograms. “I still have an hour,” she protested.
He smiled and held up a garment bag. “You still have to get dressed. We wouldn’t want the Wakandan Minister of Technology looking like she was just crawling around in a car engine.”
“I am working on a new engine configuration, as well you know.”
“Maybe, but I don’t understand any of it,” Everett laughed. “Except to know that you’re brilliant.”
She smiled back. “How do you know it’s brilliant if you don’t know what it is?”
“Easy. Because everything you do is brilliant. Now, come on. My one job here is to be on your arm at State functions and I can’t do that if we’re late.”
“And a wonderful job you do at it,” she agreed, laughing, until he kissed her.
THE END
Current Mood:
need coffee