Secretive - Bucky Barnes

37 || Untrustworthy

[Nova]
We, Natasha, Banner, Tony and I, are sitting in another conference room. They told me they waited for their boss, but I am left confused about how long he takes, and in general about the fact there is someone standing above Tony Stark in the list. He does not seem like the kind of guy to be put under easily. 

The table we sit around is round, every one of us at one point of the compass. I am left sitting south, with my back to the door again, causing me to tense. The pain in my stomach stopped a while ago, and my fingers never hurt in the least from the glass shards, although they look nasty and holed, a little like Swiss cheese, but redder. 

Natasha sits on my left, a huge white plaster covering her nose. Bruce must have directed the broken bones, because it does not stand in two different directions anymore. Her eyes tell me of her hatred, but I could guess she is not all too pleased about my decision even without the force in them.

Tony, on my opposite, and Bruce, on my right, are quieter, a little less tensed. The latter is tapping on his laptop, probably solving some math or chemics problems again, and Tony is eating a tuna sandwich. 

»Do we actually need her or is she just here for the menial work?« Natasha breaks the tensed silence, and my glance darts to her, trying to pierce her.

She does not even flinch, although she better would. Bruce glances up from his laptop, closing it rather careful and pushing his glasses upwards with his nose wrinkling. »You know, it is not like she fought for the bad guys.«

»But she killed innocents nonetheless.«

»Collateral damage.« I say icy, never leaving Natasha's blue irises, when I lift my glass and take a sip of water.

»Honestly, I don't think she does well for our image in front of the government.«

»You proved well enough you don't even care about that, do you remember?« Tony asks.

»Maybe I changed my mind.« The red-haired woman shrugs. »Where would you know from?«

After that, all quiets down again. The tension clearly dances around in the room, and I do not know how Tony got the idea this would ever work. Even if everything else goes well, Natasha and I are going to rival us, perhaps to death. My pride would not allow me otherwise, actually.

If this boss guy of them does not appear soon, I will leave.

Another ten minutes pass, and disturbed by Tony's chewing, the only actual sound in the room after Banner put away his device, I almost turn my plan into action. Then, suddenly, there is a loud noise of propellers outside the building, and soon enough, I can make out a black helicopter on the horizon. To say the presentation of himself entering the building would impress or intimidate me is a lie, but at least it reaches up to what I expected Tony Stark's boss to be like.

I do not turn around when someone enters the room behind my back, although every other of my senses are on full effort. Heavy, slow steps are in my back, but I stubbornly hold my chin high until he walked around, arms crossed. The first thing I can make out is a black, long mantel, almost reaching the black shoes and covering all of washed, black jeans. When he comes fully into my view, I can see him wearing a black sweater, his coloured skin and, what a surprise of colour, a black eye-patch over his left eye. The only disturbing element of the image is the white of his eyes, and the light colour of his teeth when he starts speaking. »I see you brought her.« His voice is deep, a little scratchy even. Definitely not allowing any ways other than his, but we will see about that. And a little satisfaction about Tony's obviously completed mission.

»Can we please record that she was my idea in the first place?« Tony argues, rolls his eyes at the fatherly-strict glance of the man, but quiets down nevertheless.