Somewhere over the Atlantic
Spring 2016
"We're approaching coordinates," Nadine said briskly, glancing from her screen at the navigator's station to Steve where he sat in the pilot's seat.
"Copy," Steve acknowledged, leaning forward to adjust the controls and prepare the Quinjet to switch over from its regular flight to vertical flight modes before deactivating the jet's stealth mode.
Nadine inhaled deeply, centering herself for what was coming.
Their assault on the Raft.
All in all, the basic framework for the rough plan she and Steve had come up with on the way to Vienna had proven sound. And with that framework to build on, her preparations had gone smoothly—a few of the backdoors she'd snuck into Stark's own systems in the Quinjet more than proving their worth—as had their final refinement of their strategy once they'd both gotten some rest. It mercifully hadn't taken quite so much work as Nadine had feared to finalize their plan of attack to their mutual satisfaction.
All that, of course, once they'd reluctantly extricated themselves from each other's arms following a different sort of satisfaction altogether.
It had been far harder than Nadine had expected to pull herself from the refuge she'd found in Steve's embrace after the passion they'd shared. She hadn't planned on falling asleep beside him any more than she had planned for what they'd done to happen in the first place. But planned or not, even with the knowledge that she probably should've been focusing on other things, she couldn't regret giving in and letting it happen for even a moment. Not when it left her feeling...
She didn't have words.
Their time together had been important too.
She'd needed it. And he'd needed it.
It had been precious and incredible and theirs.
It had still certainly been about physical fulfilment too, that was for sure. Her body was still humming with contentment even hours later, so there was no question there. But it hadn't just been about the way he'd made her body sing as they moved together, or how she'd brought him undone, her name on his lips. It had been...more than that.
No, astonishing as it seemed for Nadine to realize, being with Steve had been so much more than just a means to placate her base desires as so many of her past experiences had been. They'd just fit together, and not just in the physical sense that their bodies seemed made for each other. It had been...healing, for both of them. Reassuring. An...affirmation, even. It had been a manifestation her growing feelings for him and his for her, expressed in every touch...every look, every gasp, every kiss—in everything they had shared together in a way she had never anticipated.
Shared in a way that she rather doubted she'd ever be able to express with something so mundane as words.
She'd never known it could be like that.
It had been...
Promise.
The promise that with him she had found something...real.
The promise that he had no intention of letting her go.
The promise of a...future. Together.
The promise that she was no longer alone.
That neither of them was alone, anymore.
And that was everything.
And because of that, it had been hard—so hard—to accept that the moment had to end.
But end it had. They had a job to do. So, much as she might have desperately wanted to linger next to him, studying his peaceful features as he slept once she'd finally roused from her own encounter with sleep, she'd reluctantly slipped from his side to continue working as she probably should've been all along.
Not that she'd take back what had happened between them for the world.
And by the time he too had woken from his much-needed rest, she'd made significant progress into putting their tentative plans into action. And once he set his own considerable strategic mind to work alongside hers, it quickly went from a plan that might work to one that they had a very real chance of successfully pulling off.
Then, once the two of them were satisfied that they were as ready as they were going to be, they had roused Barnes and Nina and set out.
Sparing one last glance at the navigation console in front of her, confirming that she had properly transferred the final heading for where her information indicated the Raft was currently located over to the pilot's console, Nadine slipped from her seat to peer over Steve's shoulder. His glance was so brief she nearly missed it, but it nevertheless soothed the taut, almost apprehensive feeling in her gut that always managed to form in the last, almost surreal moments of anticipation before the mission was truly enacted, no matter how prepared she rationally knew she was. It was a familiar feeling, and one that she always managed to put to good use; it helped keep her from growing too overconfident.
"Switching to vertical thrusters," he murmured, leaning forward again to hit the switch. "Three minutes," he added, glancing over his shoulder to where Nina and Barnes both waited in tense silence, readying themselves to play their own roles. Nadine brushed a hand across his back, not hesitating to meet his eye as he looked up at her. The silent question written in the ocean-hued depths was unmistakable. She was ready. They all were.
This was going to work.
"Copy," she said back. He smiled distractedly, but still reached up to grasp her hand briefly where it had come to rest on his shoulder.
"You should get ready," he prompted. With a sharp nod and a light squeeze to his shoulder, she retreated back to the main cabin, gathering up the blue blazer she'd draped over the back of the navigator's seat.
Looking up as Nadine approached, Nina nearly jumped to attention from where she sat a seat away from Barnes, gathering up the small collection of items Nadine had left with her when they'd explained the plan. Nadine smiled in response to her daughter's nervous yet determined expression, reaching up to brush her fingers affectionately against her cheek.
"Ready, solnyshko?" she asked. Setting her jaw, Nina nodded, a small smile curving her lips. Nadine gave her a reassuring look. "You'll do fine, Nina," she said. "All you have to do once you help us lockout the central computer is keep the Quinjet hangar secure until Steve and I give you the signal."
"Meaning no one gets through my field until you have everyone," Nina affirmed with the air of someone who'd heard their instructions repeated enough they knew them by rote. Nadine quirked an eyebrow at Nina's cheek, earning a stifled snicker. Giving Nina's shoulder a quick squeeze and jerking nod up toward the cockpit, Nadine collected her props and Nina slipped past her to relieve Steve.
And Nadine turned to Barnes, who was pulling himself gingerly to his feet. There was no question that he was doing much better thanks to the proper sleep he'd been able to get while they laid low at her Workshop, but it was obvious that Barnes was still a ways from a full recovery, missing arm notwithstanding. But he insisted he was fit enough to lend a hand—his words, and ones that Steve had groaned over while Nina nearly choked while trying to restrain her laughter—and had been adamant on playing a role in recovering the people who'd been willing to give themselves up to help Steve help him.
"You're sure you can handle this," Nadine asked, partially to lighten the mood but still out of genuine concern. The second part of her question went unsaid but was no less obvious: can you handle your role with one arm. Barnes' lip quirked, but his eyes were unmistakably serious.
"I'll manage," he assured her, his grin growing wry, "You, Nina and Steve have jobs you need to do for this to work, and you can't do them if one of you needs to mind the jet. It's the least I can do." Though admittedly still wary, Nadine nodded her acknowledgment. The man was well aware of his limits. He'd more than proven that when she and Steve had gone over their plan back at her Workshop. If Barnes believed he could handle taking the pilot's seat, Nadine was willing to trust him. Especially since he was right; without him, one of them would have to stay with the Quinjet, which added tasks that the other two would have to take on in addition to their own and increased the chances that something could go wrong.
"Mom?" Nadine and Barnes both turned as Nina called from the cockpit. "They've picked us up. They're challenging our approach." Exchanging a look with Barnes, Nadine laid a light hand on his shoulder, urging him toward the cockpit, himself. With a look to Nina, Nadine nodded. She knew what to do. Understanding, Nina settled herself in the pilot's seat as Steve vacated it, turning to initiate the transfer of the meticulously forged and encoded authorizations Nadine and Nina had finalized shortly after taking off from Vienna. Then, after replying to the Raft's verbal request for identification with the carefully scripted response she and Steve had rehearsed, Nina enacted Steve's course for the final approach to the Raft. Pride swelled in Nadine's chest right alongside her nerves. Nina had played her part perfectly. Now it was down to their clearance authorizations to do the rest of the work and they'd be in.
This was the moment of truth.
A tense silence overcame the Quinjet as the moment stretched, waiting for The Raft to either approve or deny their landing. If they denied it...
They were going to have to get out of there. Fast.
And fall back on their alternate—and far riskier—plan.
But if their forged clearance worked?
The rest would be a piece of cake.
"This is Raft Prison control. Stark Jet, you are cleared for landing." And Nadine couldn't restrain her sharp exhale of relief. Next to the pilot's seat, Steve's shoulders sagged minutely. But almost instantly he was straightening, clapping Barnes briefly on the shoulder before moving back to stand next to Nadine where she waited near the boarding ramp.
"Ready?" he asked under his breath, holding out his hand for her props. Nadine gave him a brisk nod, a confident grin ghosting across her lips as she took advantage of his unspoken offer so she could slip on her navy blazer. Around them, the tenor of the Quinjet's engines shifted again as Nina began to lower the jet onto the Raft's waiting landing platform. In another minute, they'd be inside.
The hard part was over.
Now came the fun.
Out through the Quinjet's viewscreen the early morning light that was breaking through the cloud cover faded as the massive structure of the Raft Super-Max Prison seemed to rise up around them.
"You?" she asked, looking up to him. With a crooked, almost smug grin Steve gave her a nearly challenging look. Nadine was hard-pressed to keep from rolling her eyes. "I'll take that as a yes."
"What was it you called it, the messy stuff?" he bantered lightly, stepping closer as his hand automatically settled on her waist. She chuckled.
"I thought you said it was the fun part," she quipped back. His eyes glinted with amusement as he handed her back her props. Only for some of the amused light in them to dim as he grew serious.
"Be careful, Nadine," he murmured, leaning close enough that their foreheads nearly touched. Inhaling deeply, taking in the comforting, familiar scent of him, she leaned into his touch, her hand rising to rest over his heart, her fingertips absently toying with the zipper of his navy jacket.
"The same goes for you," she replied. He nodded absently, still studying her features. She nearly frowned though, when his lips parted but nothing came out, as though the words caught. She tilted her head in consideration at the obvious hesitation—a nervous pause, even. But then his expression cleared and he was looking down at her with a soft, fond smile.
"Good. Because I think I'm in love you, Madam Ryker," he said softly, the warmth in his ocean-hued eyes doing funny but nevertheless pleasant things to her heartbeat. A heartbeat that she was sure faltered as what he said sank in. Nadine nearly couldn't breathe.
The smile that spread across her face was incandescent.
She leaned up to brush a soft kiss against his lips.
"The feeling is mutual, Captain Rogers," she murmured back. And she meant it. He beamed. Even when her own smile grew wicked and a frown creased between his brows at the shift, it didn't fade. "Though I might question the timing," she teased lightly. He barked out a laugh, ceding her point with a faint tilt of his head and a mildly abashed expression. Beneath them, the Quinjet shuddered as it touched down. Twisting, he looked back toward the cockpit viewscreen, confirming that they'd indeed landed. Sure enough, the Quinjet and the landing platform it had settled on were being lowered to the main deck while overhead the huge hangar doors closing with a metallic groan they could hear even within the cabin.
"Time to go to work," he said turning back to her, his Captain persona taking over even though a trace of his smile still lingered. Feeling her own focus sharpening as he reached out to hit the ramp control, she nodded briskly.
And with a final, loaded look, she turned and descended the boarding ramp.
Her every sense was on a razor's edge as each step took her further from the Quinjet and closer to the security officers approaching—the pair completely unaware that the Stark Industries aide complete with ID lanyard and sleek leather binder stepping off the landing pad and onto the hangar floor toward them was anything but—waiting for precisely the right moment. When they were exactly close enough.
And then she struck.
The first went down when she jabbed her binder hard into his throat, the guard collapsing with a strangled gasp. The second she was already ducking around, having knocked his rifle from his hands, latching onto his wrist and twisting it tight around his back even as she lashed out with a sharp kick to a third, who'd rushed forward from his post next to the railing that separated the landing platform from the rest of the hangar when she'd sprung her attack. He staggered back to topple over the railing behind him, landing on the landing platform with a meaty thud.
As he staggered back, she was slipping around to pull the gun out of his partner's holster and dropped him efficiently with a well-placed foot and sharp knee to the kidney with a beat spin, slamming the butt of his sidearm hard against the temple of the second's helmet to make sure he went down. His ears would be ringing for days, no doubt. The gun was then promptly thrown into the face of the third, knocking him back again as he struggled to regain his feet from the shock of it hitting his goggles hard enough to dislodge them.
Then, using the second's collapsing body as leverage and a springboard, she was propelling herself around to land a hard, two-footed kick to chest to a fifth guard as he and a sixth raced forward to engage her from their post guarding the door leading into the prison proper. Knocked off his feet, he tumbled back, falling in a tangled heap against the pallets lining the main walkway.
Springing to her feet from the crouch she'd landed in, she ducked around the sixth's raised gun—twisting it free to send it clattering across the floor—using her momentum to swing up onto his back, her lanyard no longer around her neck but in her hands to wrap securely around his neck.
He had no chance as she used her abruptly shifting weight and the pressure she had on his throat to unbalance the man as the oxygen allowed into his lungs dramatically fell.
And it positioned her perfectly to lash out behind them with two powerful kicks, first to the newly recovered fourth then the third guard, the third spinning into the webbed crates behind him, tripping over the fifth guard as he did to hit hard. And he was down.
Right as the first guard charged her. But it didn't phase her in the slightest. A small shift in her balance and on the lanyard's pressure and the sixth finally fell, toppling into the first. The first staggered sideways into the perfect position for her to charge forward from where she'd landed in a neat crouch to jab a pair of sharp punches to his diaphragm before taking advantage of his involuntary flinch back as he gasped in a breath to drop down and swing her leg to sweep his out from beneath him.
Leaping to her feet, she was immediately spinning in a fluid roundhouse to slam her heel across the face of the fourth guard, stunning him long enough that she could propel herself up and onto his back, hooking a knee around his neck and the other around his front and letting herself drop, tucking and twisting. With a muffled cry, he was upended to land with a hard thud into the ground as she swung around.
But she had already disengaged, the angle of his fall landing her on her feet, her binder once again in hand having snatched it up as she twisted to be slammed hard across the face of the fifth.
With a heavy thump, he too went down and stayed down.
Nadine could only spare a breath, looking up in anticipation of a second wave. Sure enough, four more soldiers were spilling through the open doors. She grinned: just as they'd hoped. And then she was springing into action once more.
Heading right for the set of guards rushing onto the bay, rifles coming up and aimed directly at her.
Without breaking her stride, she was throwing herself out of their direct path, rolling back to her feet behind a row of pallets as the first handful of shots rang out, bullets ricocheting off the hull of the Quinjet.
The new set of guards was already calling out to each other, orders and positions flying between them even as she propelled herself up on top of the nearest pallet with a braced foot against the one next to it and her remaining momentum. She didn't even need the shipping webbing to hoist herself up.
Dashing across the tops of the lined-up pallets, she was leaping onto the shoulders of the nearest guard, the force of her controlled fall and her arm looping tight around his neck crashing him into a second. Even as he struggled to keep his feet, she was kicking out with both legs, each foot slamming hard against the riot shields of the second and a third from this new batch with a hard thud, forcing each to backpedal hard.
Before any of them could recover, she was twisting around the guard she'd landed on to knock the fourth's rifle sharply back across its owner's face as he raised it toward her before using his knee to launch herself around him, each hand holding tight to the weapon to effectively choke him with it even as the momentum of her move had him jerking around. As she pulled the fourth around, her foot was lashing out to send the first guard spinning face first into the nearest stack of crates with a sickening crack.
Only to let go of the still disoriented fourth to yank a canister from the rack on her other side to slam it hard into one of the second set of recovering guards—she'd lost track of which was which, honestly—launching forward from the crouch she'd dropped into to once again swing out her leg and topple the nearest one into his companion.
Twisting, she propelled herself into a move reminiscent of a handspring to send the final guard—the fourth of the second set, maybe?—staggering back as she snatched up one of the forgotten riot shields to slam the edge hard into his gut and then up into his chin, snapping his head back.
And the last guard dropped like a sack of potatoes.
She looked down to the shield with a smirk. She could certainly see what Steve was so attached to the things. But then the memory of what he'd told her had become of his own shield came back and her grin faltered.
The riot shield fell to the ground with a dull thud as she stepped over the sprawled guards and headed for the operations room.
As she moved swiftly from the landing bay into the prison proper on her way to the operations room, it was clear that she hadn't been the only one who'd been busy.
While she'd been securing the landing bay, Steve had already clearly done his own work as he cleared the way to the operations room. The corridors were lined with out-of-commission soldiers and security personnel.
Like bowling pins against a locomotive.
Further, it was clear that Nina had played the next task assigned to her just as well. As Nadine followed the predetermined route she and Steve had decided would be the most efficient during their study of the Raft's schematics, the flashing lights denoting that lockdown procedures were in effect were already activated, yet the bulkheads that broke up the corridors that made up her route were conspicuously open despite the fact that their fellows that lead to other areas of the prison were sealed tight. Even focused on her task as she was, Nadine couldn't help but smirk in approval. For all her nerves about participating in what was effectively her first mission—which paled as compared to Nadine's own nerves about Nina participating in some respects—Nina was doing perfectly so far.
Her pride in her daughter swelled further as Nadine reached the operations room and took stock of the situation. Clearly Steve had passed through ahead of Nina, clearing the way in rather spectacular fashion; unconscious bodies were scattered everywhere along with overturned chairs and desks, while many of the monitors and consoles that populated the room were damaged to varying degrees—some askew, some flickering and fritzing and some outright smashed and dark.
But a few had survived mostly intact, and it was at one of those few undamaged consoles that Nina was doing her work, her focus intent as she finished up the implementation of their modified lockdown, effectively cutting off whatever backup remained for the prison personnel she and Steve had already handled from interfering with the rest of their mission. All while simultaneously clearing the way for Steve to reach their people several levels below.
Not to mention opening the outer hatch for the landing platform, Nadine noted as her own practiced eye scanned the surviving screens, so they could make their escape when they were done.
Nina had done very well, indeed.
As Nadine came up behind her, tapping lightly at her shoulder, Nina only barely spared her a glance. A moment later she finished keying the command she'd been working on. Smiling, not even trying to hide the pride from her expression as Nina looked up at her, Nadine nodded her head back the way they'd come.
"I've got it from here," she reassured Nina as they traded seats, immediately diving into cell-block controls and getting to work at finding and unlocking the cells holding their people. "We shouldn't have anymore trouble with the hangar, but you'd best get back, anyway."
"I think you'd both best come down here, Nadine," Steve interjected grimly over their earpieces. "I think we're going to need both your help. Gear retrieval's going to have to wait." With matching frowns, Nadine and Nina both looked to the feed Nadine immediately called up for cellblock L8. Steve was looking up at the camera, his features drawn with concern. It was immediately clear why.
Leaning heavily against the Captain was Pietro. Next to Nadine, Nina paled, a small pained sound catching in her throat. He was barely able to stand. And Wanda wasn't much better off where Clint was helping her out of her own cell. Nadine swore silently. This was not good.
Unsurprisingly, it didn't take long at all to finish up in the operations room. By the time Nadine rose from the console, Nina was practically vibrating she was so desperate to get moving. And Nadine wasn't far behind.
As soon as they reached the dimly lit cell bank holding the rest of their team, Nina was darting to Pietro's side, taking Lang's place as he rose from a crouch next to the younger man. Worry clenched in Nadine's gut as she approached Steve where he stood beside Sam. She was unable to look away from Wanda where she leaned against Clint, and Pietro where he sat between his sister and Nina. The speedster had sagged against Nina, a brittle ghost of his usual brash smile on his face as her hands smoothed against his jaw and brushed back his hair.
They looked awful...
Both the Twins were pale and drawn, their skin almost grey and visibly clammy, while dark, bruise-like shadows encircled their dulled eyes. What was more, each was further restrained where Clint, Scott and Sam next to them were not. While all of them were dressed in blue and grey prison garb, Wanda was wrapped in what looked disconcertingly like a straightjacket, her hands securely crossed around her torso within the strategically reinforced garment. Pietro, meanwhile, was trussed up with a similarly reinforced garment, though his evoked more traditional prison restraints with the black bands around his waist, neck, wrists and ankles, effectively hobbling him.
But it was only as Nadine drew closer that she realized precisely why the Twins were so bad off.
The small but no less ominous pair of red lights on both their neckbands made it abundantly clear.
"Some sort of neutralizing collar?" she asked lowly, glancing to the men standing next to her "low-level charge of some kind to try and keep their powers in check?"
"Probably," Steve agreed grimly, "and likely some manner of shock collar on top of it." Nadine could feel herself going cold. It was barbaric. And it was slowly killing them both. She could see it in Wanda's unfocused eyes as she leaned weakly against Clint. And Pietro, for all that he seemed marginally more animated than his Twin, looked worse still; undoubtedly he'd been fighting against his bindings.
"I take it you weren't sure how to get them off?" Steve glanced to her at the ice that had seeped into her carefully controlled tone. He nodded.
"Without the deactivation keys? Didn't want to risk tampering with them. Or moving them." He glanced over at her questioning frown, but it was Scott who answered.
"His, at least," he said with an absent gesture toward Pietro, sounding far more sedate than Nadine had ever heard him, "looks like it might have some kind of proximity sensor on it, to keep him confined to the immediate area." Nadine blinked, looking to Lang in surprise. He shrugged. "I'm not just a thief, you know," he said with a faint grin, "I do have a Masters in electrical engineering on top of being Ant-man. I'm not bad with this sort of thing," he added with a wry grin. Not that it quite reached his eyes. "Even if it is a little out of my league to get them off—with time, maybe..."
"Which we don't have, " Steve continued, bringing them back around to the problem at hand. "Since this is more your and Nina's area of expertise than any of ours, I thought it best that you take a look before we do anything." Mutely, Nadine agreed, her thoughts already turning to how best to get them off. And fast. They might be secure for the moment, but Steve was right; that wasn't going to last forever. They needed to get moving.
But as she lowered herself in front of Wanda, intent on getting a closer look, a faint whine sounded before quickly dying. Looking sharply to Nina and Pietro, Nadine's eyes widened in shock.
A faint, dense haze was rippling beneath Nina's tense fingers where she held them over Pietro's collar, obscuring the primary control pad.
"I don't know how long I can hold it," Nina said then without breaking her intent focus on her boyfriend's collar, her voice strained. Nadine didn't pause to question her, already pulling out the lock-pick from its place in the lining of her boot as she darted in to release the collar's fastening on the back of Pietro's neck while Steve and Sam dropped down next to her, all but tearing the rest of the restraints free as she worked.
The instant the collar was off, the entire harness was tugged clear, landing with a muffled thump a few feet away. And Pietro groaned, sagging heavily against Nina as the strain that had gripped his body from the effects of the collar abruptly drained away.
'What'd you do," Sam asked, voicing the incredulous question they were all thinking as they drew back, giving the pair of them some space to breathe. Next to Clint, Wanda started to revive, a faint gleam of worry and interest surfacing on her blank features as she looked anxiously to her brother. Nina leaned back against the bulkhead as she hugged Pietro close, taking a moment to recover before answering.
"I used my powers to isolate the control unit circuits from the rest of the collar," she explained, sounding faintly incredulous. Nadine's brows rose, though a tremor of delayed alarm rose to mingle with her pride. "I wasn't sure if I could even concentrate one of my fields that much, or it would even work—I've never tried to inhibit digital circuitry before."
"Apparently you can," Steve said with an impressed grin, laying a hand on her shoulder. "Think you can do it again?" A small smile rising briefly to her face, Nina looked between Steve and Wanda nodding soberly.
"I think so."
A few moments later and Wanda's restraints were similarly discarded and she was slumping with relief against Clint, her hand gripped tight in her brother's as he shuffled close enough to embrace her.
Feeling similarly relieved, Nadine and Sam both straightened to give them some room while Steve rocked back on his heels, studying the Twins with concern.
"Think they'll be alright?" Lang asked sedately as Nadine stepped back. Letting out a slow exhale, allowing it to take some of the anxious energy that had gripped her as they worked with it, she nodded absently.
"With time," she answered, eying the siblings—and Nina, whose efforts had taken a toll on her as well. "We'll give them a minute, but then we've gotta move. They can rest properly on the Quinjet." Looking up to her as she spoke, Steve nodded his agreement.
"Two minutes," he confirmed with a brief glance to his watch—they weren't doing too bad timewise, all things considered thanks to how quickly they'd been moving so far—before looking between the Maximoffs, "You'll be good to move?"
"We'll manage," Wanda answered for both of them, resolve nevertheless clear despite the way her voice shook. Steve nodded briskly, sparing each of them a faint smile of assurance before glancing to Nina. Without him needing to ask, she was nodding too. Next to Nadine, Scott fidgeted.
"So you have a kid," he said quietly with a distinct air of feigned nonchalance. Nadine had to consciously keep herself from rolling her eyes, instead sparing him an impassive glance. On Scott's other side, Sam was watching the exchange with poorly concealed interest.
"I do," she finally confirmed simply. Scott nodded, but much to Nadine's surprise, instead of cracking under her scrutiny, a faint—if sedate—smile appeared on his face, though his eyes still glinted with curiosity.
"Same. Cassie," he added, his smile brightening in a way Nadine easily recognized. But then he glanced over to her, the curiosity she had glimpsed growing more pronounced. "Honestly wouldn't have pegged you for a mom, though." Nadine's lip quirked for a split-second.
"So I've heard," she quipped back dryly. "You're not the first to say as much." He chuckled. After a beat, he fixed her with a considering look.
"And she's eighteen? What, were you, like, five when she was born?" Nadine was severely tempted to groan, pointedly ignoring the roguish grin that Sam was no longer trying to hide.
"Lang? Do you want to be rescued?" she asked pleasantly. Sam nearly choked as he tried to restrain his laughter.
Scott frowned, but nodded. "Yeah."
"Then you might want to shut up," Clint piped up helpfully from where he was starting to help Wanda to her feet. Sam actually snickered as Lang blinked in surprise, suddenly looking decidedly unsettled as he glanced to Nadine with a small, wary grin.
Nadine very nearly smirked.
But she managed to hold it in, taking a degree of amusement in the way Lang was beginning to fidget again under the carefully unreadable way she was looking to him.
Though she did allow herself a faint grin as Steve caught her eye when Scott moved off to help Nina with Pietro at the Captain's direction, his brows rising to convey his silent but still amused admonishment. She merely shrugged. No harm, no foul, so far as she was concerned. And it had made Nina smile, she'd noticed. With a faintly exasperated but fond look, Steve shook his head as he straightened, unconsciously reaching out to brush his hand against her arm as he moved off slightly to check in with Barnes.
But as Barnes was confirming through the earpieces that they were still clear and Steve declared it was time to get moving, Nadine was frowning at the considering way Sam was suddenly looking between her and the Captain. Biting back an exasperated sigh, she raised a brow at him. The unspoken question was clear.
"Something's different," he said thoughtfully, though a trace of his amused grin was slowly returning as he jerked his head toward Steve. "Something happened between the two of you."
"Not really the time, Sam," Steve interrupted, the Captain in him managing to keep his focus on the rest of their team as they filed as efficiently as they could from the cell block. Though Nadine noticed that he was careful to avoid Nadine's eye. He didn't quite succeed. She nearly smirked at the faint wash of colour threatening to form on his cheeks as she levelly met his gaze when he gestured her and Sam forward, the corner of her lip quirking as she raised a brow at him. And despite the composure he always managed to maintain when on a mission, his gaze grew warm on hers as a similar glint appeared in his ocean-hued eyes.
Falling into step next to her, Sam barked out a soft laugh.
"Oh, damn," he said with a smug grin, "you two hooked up." It took a great deal of self-control not to start at the comment. Did he really...she really hoped the mic on her earpiece hadn't picked that up... Thankfully, up ahead, Nina didn't appear to have heard, her focus wholly on helping Pietro up the short batch of stairs that lead out of the cell block.
Nadine shot the former paratrooper a narrow-eyed look.
"Really, Wilson?" she countered dryly, somehow managing to keep her voice level as they fell into step behind Steve as he followed the rest of the team out of the cell block. "You don't think you could've chosen a better time to make those kinds of assumptions?"
"Nah," Sam dismissed with a laugh, earning himself a disparaging glance from Steve that he ignored. "And I know I'm right. Definitely happened. 'Bout time, too," he added with a roguish expression, "even if I mighta preferred you breaking us out first before celebrating." Nadine just rolled her eyes even as Steve shook his head. Not that either of them missed the way he fought to restrain a decidedly bashful grin. Nadine couldn't help but smirk wickedly at the way his cheeks were beginning to pink ever so slightly. Sam just chortled as he looked between the two of them.
Valiantly ignoring his friend's mirth at his expense, Steve gestured the two of them onward. Sobering at the reminder that they still had a job to do, Nadine nodded in understanding and began to make her way to the head of the group of former Avengers to take point. Still grinning, Sam followed without question, keeping pace just behind her as she began leading them back up toward the Quinjet.
Much to Nadine's relief, the group was able to move relatively swiftly—or as swiftly as they were able, given the Twins' conditions—back up through the prison. Their modified lockdown was holding and they didn't encounter a single Raft soldier—save for the ones Steve had taken care of on his way down; save for two that Nadine quickly knocked back to unconsciousness and one Sam looked after, they were all still out of it.
Still, Nadine wasn't about to let her guard down for a moment and, despite his mischievous mood, Sam was on the same page.
For the most part.
They were nearly there before Sam couldn't hold his silence any longer.
"So? Worth the wait," he ribbed playfully. Nadine fought not to scowl, raising an unimpressed brow at him instead
"Gossip later? We are on a bit of a schedule."
Sam just laughed.
A/N: Thanks for reading!
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