Later that night, after the food was picked at, weapons reloaded, and every inch of the bunker triple-checked, the Thunderbolts spread out across the space in their own weird version of comfort.
Yelena sharpened her knives on the floor, eyes flicking to Bob and Frankie every few minutes.
John played cards with Alexei, badly.
Ava leaned against a far wall, silent, watching everything.
And Bucky stood in the kitchen, making a second pot of coffee like the brooding soldier he was.
Frankie had retreated to her desk-but she hadn't locked the door.
Which, for her, was basically a group hug.
Bob wandered over with his now-signature cup of coffee and leaned beside her against the console.
"So... we're staying the night?"
"Don't know," Frankie said. "Am I letting you?"
He grinned. "You haven't kicked us out yet."
"That's because I'm tired."
Yelena called from across the room. "Liar. You like us."
"No, I don't," Frankie called back.
"You like me," John said confidently.
"You're the first to go if I turn," she replied, deadpan.
Bob snorted into his coffee.
Alexei raised his mug. "To not turning."
Frankie rolled her eyes but didn't leave.
Didn't retreat.
Didn't snap.
She stayed-sitting among the chaos, not quite smiling, not quite relaxed.
But there.
Present.
And when Bob slid a piece of the blanket off the back of the couch and draped half of it over her shoulders while pretending not to look?
She didn't move it.
Didn't speak.
But her foot nudged his under the table.
Just once.
It said: don't push it.
But also: I see you.
YOU ARE READING
Code Name: Untraceable
FanfictionShe's not on the roster. She's not in the system. She's not even supposed to be alive. Every mission the Thunderbolts run, she's there-appearing out of nowhere, tearing through enemies like a storm, then vanishing without a trace. One time? Coincide...
