How I spent my late summer vacation with a secret agent in Wakanda

[spice_shaker]

 

Coulson kept silent as the escorts chatted politely with Pepper, leading them into the Accepting Chamber. They were announced, Pepper first and Phil as an afterthought.

 

A man stood in the center of the room, features obscured by a peculiar outfit (though both Americans were quite used to that sort of thing by now). Form-fitting material of a weave Phil couldn't put his finger on, a full cowl that suggested feline traits. The cowl twisted, a welcoming smile somehow translating well.

 

"Ms. Potts."

 

A slight shift of dark eye behind colored lenses as he looked at Coulson and seemed to measure him before his attention went back to the redhead woman, although Phil still felt observed. A very skilled man.

 

"It is my pleasure to welcome you. I am T'Challa, king of Wakanda."

 

"Your Majesty, Sir" Pepper said curtseying, hoping as she did that the etiquette for British royalty would do in Wakanda. There weren't any Wakandan etiquette guides so far as she'd been able to discover, not beyond 'keep out'.

 

T'Challa inclined his head.

 

"There have been many favorable reports from the students within Stark Industries. I am glad to meet you, face to face."

 

Coulson almost let his lips twitch upward, almost smiled. An invitation into the most secretive nation on the planet? Who would try to talk the man into leaving his own borders. Then he thought again. Idiots trying to blackmail a county, perhaps. Greedy jerks. All things that Pepper was not.

 

Pepper smiled. She'd suspected even before her recruiting effort had begun that the Wakandan engineers would be feeding information back to T'Challa, but it was nice to have it confirmed. If Wakanda was in the habit of talking to the outside world it would be a disasterous leak, but she had to admit that any of SI's information that had been 'shared' was likely safer in Wakanda than on SI's computers. "I'm glad to hear that I've made a good impression, Your Majesty. Thank you for allowing what's become the mutually beneficial arrangement I was hoping for at the outset. I know it flies in the face of your traditions."

 

"It does." The man agreed. "But as the Romans said when they attempted to invade, we must expand or die. Perhaps there are a few outside our borders whocould be trusted. Come, the evening meal has been prepared. You may eat and we will continue to speak."

 

This was an elaborate game, Everyone knew it. Test and push, measure and retreat. And yet, not the oddest meeting he had witnessed.

 

He followed, of course, feeling light-headed as he passed through the arch to the elaborately set but intimate table.

 

The feeling persisted as he stayed just behind Pepper's shoulder, the sensation worse and worse, adding in a peculiar... Prickling sensation, like ants marching all over his body.  He tried to ignore it the best he could. There were more important things going on right now...

 

Pepper waited until they'd all settled in before repling to T'Challa's observation. "I'm glad to hear that it's a matter of us being potentially trustworthy rather than 'know thine enemy'. Especially since you have Agent Coulson and I at something of a disadvantage." Pepper paused, considering her own words. "Or you have me at a disadvantage, at least." Once again, it struck her how little she actually knew about Phil. Not much more than she did about T'Challa, really. Of the three, she was the public figure, the only open book.

 

"Wakanda has few enemies, Ms. Potts." That covered smile was back. "Due to some of our traditions. There are those who try, but I feel that friendship must be earned. What do you think, Ms. Potts?"

 

Coulson frowned lightly, wondering if he was reading into the words, despite the light tone. He opened his mouth to say something, but it came out a strangled noise and h caught the back of Pepper's chair, trying to stay on his feet, his perception, his awareness, everything narrowing, graying out. A yells tied to break free as his hand slid between the molecules of the chair, the body landing unresponsive on the floor.

 

T'Challa stayed still in his seat, ankles crossed, hands resting on the arms of his chair, the impression of a raised eyebrow behind the mask.

 

Pepper was kneeling at Phil's side in the space of a moment, T'Challa all but forgotten "Phil," she said as she tried to help him, find out what was wrong, anything, "are you alright?" Her hands slid /through/ him, leaving her gaping.

 

"That. Was meant to disable monitoring equipment. Active or passive." T'Challa shifted in the chair, elbows going to his knees, watching Potts' reaction curiously. His eyes flick to her hand inside the unresponsive other and frowns.

 

"Curious."

 

"Curious is one way to put it," Pepper said angrily. "Phil almost died saving the world -Wakanda included- from an alien invasion. At a guess your anti-surveillance whatever is interfering with whatever SHIELD did to save him. Could you turn it off? I promise I won't say anything worth eavesdropping on, if that's what it takes. And yes, I'd say friendship does have to be earned." The scowl she wore spoke volumes about what T'Challa was earning in Pepper's mind at that moment.

 

"I cannot." There was a note of regret in the man's voice as he reached under the table, typing out a command.

 

"My minister of technology may be able to, however."

 

He nodded to an older man, wrinkles and scarification marks fighting for prominence on the man's features, the two-piece business suit somehow not out of place on his body.

 

He snapped what looked to be a jeweler's loupe across his eyes and exclaimed.

 

"English, please. To set our guest at ease. The newcomer knelt slowly, magnified eyes wide.

 

"It is forcing its frame through vibrational cycles, trying to rid itself of the nanites. Trying to push them out."

 

The body seemed to convulse, T'Challa pulling Potts back to a safer distance.

 

"This IS excellent equipment."

 

"'This' is Phil Coulson, a friend of mine and my honor guard," Pepper said, her temper mounting. In light of Phil's flailing, she let herself be drawn back. "An honor guard who has been attacked without provocation or warning, I might add." She let the words hang to let their implications sink in.

 

"It was not meant for him to end up in such a state." T'Challa shakes his head. "It is a precaution, always taken.

 

"Until - he solidifies... There is nothing to be done. I honestly apologize, Miss Potts."

 

"I'm afraid we'll have to wait until he recovers before I can accept that apology, Majesty," Pepper said, still looking anxiously down at Phil. "I wish we could at least get him off the floor."

 

The other man spoke quickly, almost musically and T'Challa glared at him.

 

The king sighed deeply, debating if he should translate for the American.

 

"There will be no study of the guests."

 

Coulson curled in on himself, giving a soft moan. The elder Wakandan reached for him, sprawling when the Agent swatted him away almost automatically, pushing up to look for the one familiar face. He had to make sure that she was safe...

 

"Pepper..."

 

"Phil! Thank God you're awake," Pepper said, rushing to his side. "You gave me quite a scare."

 

"Sorry." His throat was raw from trying to keep from screaming or throwing up. He levered himself up somewhat, trying not to glare at the two men.

 

T'Challa had helped the other up, checked him for injuries, letting the two Americans check each other over.

 

"Apparently some kind of counter-surveillance device didn't agree with you. I knew you were dedicated to your job, but that's taking things a bit far," Pepper joked, starting to look forward to having a minor breakdown later in her room. "You... um... fell though a chair."

 

Phil groaned softly, rubbing his temples then his gut briefly.

 

"That's... Lovely."

 

He met her eyes, apology written all the way through.

 

"I apologize for the commotion as well."

 

"It's all right," Pepper assured him. A beat later she added, "But don't do it again"

 

"I'll do my best?" He offers. "My mouth's dry."

 

"I'll get you some water," Pepper promised. "You just stay where you are and take it easy."

 

"I should be fine in a few minutes." He protested, but stayed seated where he was, eyeing T'Challa warily.

 

"I don't like tests."

 

"Does it being a secret test help?" Pepper asked, returning with a glass of ice water. "You obviously like secrets."

 

"That does make something of a difference, I guess." The agent squeezed her hand gently and took the cup for a deep draught.

 

"Our hosts would be within their rights to be offended... if we were anywhere else," Pepper observed. "Secrecy being the norm for Wakanda, I mean."

 

"I didn't have any surveillance equipment. I'm clean." The only thing he had been recording was for his own memories, and the thought of trying to disconnect that made him shudder. "There's precaution and then." He paused, turned he head away and coughed into the empty cup, staring at the... mess now inside.

 

"That was disgusting. Poor little bastards were doing their job, though. I feel sorry for them."

 

Pepper blinked, her expression nonplussed, and not only because of the mess in the cup. "Oookay. Would this be a good time to admit that I'm apparently missing a few pieces of this puzzle?"

 

"If you'd like." Phil sighed, tugging down a napkin to cover the cup. "Thank you. I'm feeling better."

 

"If you so wish..." T'Challa ventured. "We will all retire for the evening and try to continue business tomorrow?"

 

"That might be for the best under the circumstances," Pepper admitted, not without a little regret. "Apologies, Majesty. We seem to have started things off on the wrong foot. A fresh start on a new day is a good idea."

 

"I will escort you to your rooms." The king nodded once, offering Coulson a hand up. The agent accepted it, still keeping the covered cup.

 

"Thank you, Majesty," Pepper said. "You're kind to do so."

 

The walk was quiet, Coulson seemingly embarrassed and T'Challa openly so, even though it did nothing to either man's bearing.

 

Once they reached the guest room, Phil swept the room automatically for bugs and nodded approval. A smallish suite, two bedrooms with a shared living room - almost right out of a hotel. Coulson's luggage was in the smaller room, Pepper's in the larger, more defensible area.

 

"This looks good." The agent commented absently.

 

"The best we've seen since leaving New York," Pepper agreed. "The decor is almost the same as at the tower." She darted a curious glance over at T'Challa.

 

T'Challa smiled again and shook his head. "A coincidence, this time. Although a few reports of favored colors have come to my attention I had decided on something fairly neutral."

 

"That's still thoughtful of you," Pepper observed.

 

T'Challa inclined his head and stepped back.

 

"I will bid you both good night. Rest well."

 

Coulson nodded, the cup going to a small side table.

 

"And you as well, Majesty," Pepper said, seeing T'Challa to the door.

 

Once the door was safely closed and she could at pretend they had privacy, Pepper turned to Phil. "Can you think of any reason the technology minister would have referred to you as 'excellent equipment', dirty jokes aside?"

 

He had fallen naturally into parade rest, a sign a few would recognize as his own nervousness.

 

"Because I am. It's not flippancy, Pepper." His shoulders rolled back as her face darkened. "I'm... synthetic. Since July of last year, although I didn't realize it until later. And I said nothing because..." He sighed softly. "Because you were the only person who wasn't treating me...differently."

 

Pepper flushed, thinking back to Halloween. "You're very convincing," she said weakly, even as dozens of disregarded little oddities came back to her. "Tony?"

 

There was a bit of a smile at her blush, following her train of thought.

 

"And Banner. Maybe a little bit... extra." SHIELD tech. Possibly something stolen from Hydra. Or from the invading forces. But that was all speculation.

 

"I'm sorry. I've lied to you... Too many times."

 

"By omission," Pepper admitted. "But I knew that. A lot of you life is a closed book. I knew that." She crossed the room and seated herself on the edge of one of the beds, still struggling to absorb the revelation.

 

"Would you come sit by me, Phil?" Pepper asked after a moment or two passed in silence.

 

He moved across the room, settling next to her, offering his hand palm-up.

 

"You know." He stared out the window for a moment.

 

"Since Tony made me, with SI equipment... You own part of me." He offered her a wry smile. "That sounded better in my head."

 

Pepper laughed despite herself. "And I can practically hear Tony speculating on which parts I should claim."  She took the offered hand in her own. "Can I ask you something?"

 

"Twelve percent..." His fingers folded around her gently. "Yes. Just... Understand if I can't answer."

 

Pepper nodded. "Like always. That goes without saying. Do you feel human? To yourself, I mean?" She made a face. "Speaking of things that sound better inside your head..."

 

"Sometimes, I do. And others I feel... I'm not sure how to describe it. It's not an inhumanity, but it doesn't feel quite the way I think I should. And other times I am just out and out... Terrified."

 

He looked started and glanced at her. "You're the only person I've told that."

 

Another smile came, a warm one. "And now you're afraid that since I know everything between us will change?" Pepper inquired.

 

"Maybe not everything. but something will. Even Natasha and Clint treat me differently." A shoulder rose and fell. "You get used to it."

 

Pepper chuckled despite herself, squeezing Phil's hand. "Then you haven't worked out yet that I know you better than I ever did the original? Certainly longer."

 

He smiled at her and lifted her hand to press a gentle kiss to the back. "Much better. Thank you for another perspective."

 

"This should probably bother me more," Pepper said, sounding rather surprised that it didn't. "Maybe it's just that it's not obvious that you're differently human, or maybe I'm getting jaded from the company I've kept, but for the moment at least this is less disturbing than the reactor was at first." She shuddered a little at the memory of having her hand in Tony's chest.

 

"People can get used to anything. Just means you're going a little sideways with the rest of us. It's nice here. Good property values." He chuckled.

 

"I can honestly say that I'm sure we surprised the king. Even if the mask makes it hard to guess his reaction to anything," Pepper observed with a rueful chuckle.

 

"It's cool though." He sounded young for a second, almost gleeful. "I bet he'd make one hell of an Avenger."

 

"You think so?" Pepper asked curiously. "He didn't particularly strike me as a team player."

 

"He's a king. He's got to be. So much responsibility, why not accept the position when it involves the world?"

 

"Leaders aren't always team players, Phil. Even if circumstances force some of them to fake it," Pepper disagreed. "Your director struck me that way, the few times we've interacted. But defending the world because Wakanda happens to be part of it? That sounds almost reasonable."

 

"Doesn't it. But I'm sure we'd have to come up with a good enough reason to even broach the subject."

 

"I wonder if you just hit on the real reason we were invited," Pepper said thoughtfully.

 

"You're hardly in recruiting." Phil smirked. "But we'll see what happens during the rest of the visit. Hopefully I haven't wrenched anything."

 

"I may not be in recruiting... or even affiliated... but there are still a lot of assumptions about Tony and I," Pepper said. "But you're probably right. What's normal for big business is probably too involved and Machiavellian for superheroism."

 

"I don't know about that. Investments, long term goals, agreements between powerful people. It sounds similar to me."

 

Pepper tilted her head. "Did we just switch sides? If this was a business situation I'd say T'Challa was looking for a real look inside the company before talking to HR, but when I just gave up and admitted the parallels might not apply you tell me that they do. Very human of you, Phil. Although some might say you should've been a woman," she added jokingly, reaching out to muss his hair.

 

He smiled, letting her with only a small roll of his eyes. "I like to stay flexible. Or play Devil's Advocate once in a while." His hand slid to her knee

 

, squeezing lightly. "It's always been a habit even if I don't voice it."

 

"You're flexible, I'll grant you that," Pepper said with a wink. Did I really just say that? I'm flirting with him and I've seen an invoice for his skeleton, she thought afterward. How did my life end up being like this?

 

His lips twitch, settle into a smile and a chuckle as he fights the urge to kiss her cheek or topple them both to the bed and wrap her up in his arms.

 

"Oh yes... I remember the praise for that one particular move..." The teasing felt good, relaxing in its own way.

 

"The whole tower would remember if the soundproofing wasn't quite so good," Pepper agreed sheepishly.

 

A bark of laughter escaped, partially at the frankness and the way she looked as she remembered. It -was- a very good memory.

 

"You should probably shower first." He offered, mostly to distract himself. "I'll check the sleeping area for bugs while you're in."

 

"If you're sure you wouldn't rather go first," Pepper replied. "I wouldn't blame you if you did. You've had the harder day between the two of us."Physically, at least.

 

"No, you go ahead." He stood, offering her a hand up. "Take some time to yourself. I'm fine, I promise."

 

She, however, had so much to process, to get through. There were signs of shock, mild as they were. And showers were perfect places to pretend no one could hear a person during a freak out.

 

"Besides, many years of The Service has taught me that cool showers aren't that bad, if you're quick. Or maybe that was just from working with Marcus..." The last sounded bemused, a joke for himself.

 

"Marcus? No, never mind," Pepper said, thinking about the rumors that had been circulating about Coulson and Barton. "Forget I asked. But I'll try to leave you some hot water."

 

"An old, old friend." He offered that much, starting to move around the room. He would leave the taps up, the hearing "bugs" but the cameras would be disabled. No one needed to watch Pepper sleep and him do whatever he chose to do at that point. But the Wakandans would still have some surveillance.

 

"I see," Pepper said, wondering if she should take the words at face value. "Well, I won't be long," she promised. She went to leave, then stopped. "I don't suppose you're any good at braiding, are you? It would be nice to get my hair up off my neck once it's clean."

 

"I've never tried hair. It might not be the neatest, but braiding is simple." He offers another small smile. "I'll even comb it for you first."

 

"The royal treatment," Pepper observed with a smile. "For that I'll risk an inexpert braid. Besides, I know that you're good with your hands." That said, she retreated to the bathroom before she dug herself in any deeper.

 

There may have been a small snort of amusement at the last comment before the agent turned his attention fully to his task, "convincing" spy eyes to sleep. He unpacked their things after, Pepper's clothes at the fore of the spacious closet - so much room for a shortish stay and his on the other side, laying out her toiletries bag at the vanity, his few things taking up a corner. Ah, light travel...

 

Neatly folded at the very bottom of Pepper's suitcase was a Hawaiian shirt in Phil's size. Far from being loud, it was a simple white hibiscus pattern on a black background.

 

He held up the shirt, rested it against his body to judge the fit and shook his head slowly, sliding it onto a hanger. He would have to wear that... Assuming they were allowed a day of tourism, guards or not. Maybe snap a photo... Send it back to the others.

 

Pepper emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel as Phil was holding up the shirt. "I see you found your present. I hadn't expected you to unpack for me."

 

"I got a little bored. Don't worry, nothing was fondled. Only sorted." The faux innocence was a hard look to pull off. "The shirt is softer than it looks. I like it. I didn't get you anything."

 

"You also didn't ask me to escort you into the middle of nowhere," Pepper pointed out. "You are doing me a favor Phil, even if I thought you might enjoy it too. I didn't think a token of appreciation was out of order. And it's from Cook's of Honolulu if you're inclined to go looking for more," she added, nodding toward the shirt.

 

"We'll see how well it works first. How well it conceals a holster. He was trying not to think about those long legs under the towel. "I'll step out so you can get changed and then I'll help with your hair. Sound good?"

 

"Or I could just grab my decidedly unfondled nightgown and go back into the bathroom to change, like I'd intended when I came out," Pepper observed with a grin.

 

"Oh sure. Take the easy way." He teased back. "I'll just paw through more of your things for your brush."

 

"You mean you haven't already?" Pepper asked, mock aghast. "So much for 'Be Prepared'." She selected the nightgown she wanted, not what Tony would've called 'seduction armor', but falling short of dowdy.

 

"Much too busy with your underwear." He called after her before the bathroom door shut, dragging a chair next to the bed before he does manage to locate the proper implements.

 

"That's fine. So long as you weren't trying them on," Pepper called back through the door, which she'd left slightly ajar. "I hate it when they get all stretched out."

 

It started as a scoff but morphed into a chuckle. "Most that I saw would need a bit more fabric to be anywhere near supportive."

 

"On that, we agree 100%."

 

The banter between them went on, even as Coulson saw to Pepper's hair. "Phil?" Pepper said after she'd pronounced his work satisfactory.

 

"Yes?" He smoothed down the ends one more time and took the chair back to its usual place, feeling much more relaxed than he had in... Longer than he'd cared to think.

 

"Am I treating you differently? I don't want to."

 

He smiled at her, warmed by the consideration. "A little bit, but it's still fresh. I think the realization would be a little harsh on anyone."

 

"I think a little comforting might help me with the shock," Pepper said with a hint of a smile. "If you're feeling cuddly, that is. But I don't think I'm up for anything beyond that. Not yet."

 

"I can manage that." He dropped a kiss to her crown. "Give me ten for a shower and I'll be right back." He snagged his pajamas and slipped in, clean and out in six, dry and dressed in nine.

 

"Cuddling sounds wonderful."

 

"I'm glad," Pepper said, already under the covers. She'd been rereading the scanty dossier that she had on T'Challa, but put it aside when Phil emerged. "I could definitely use some."

 

He checked the room one last time, especially the doors, then slid in behind Pepper. His arm slid around her waist, tugging her a little closer.

 

Pepper went willingly. Despite the shocks of the day, she /did/ find the contact comforting. She soon found herself starting to nod. "Sweet dreams, Phil," she murmured.

 

"Good night, Pepper. Sleep well." He settled in a little more comfortably, slowly slipping into the usual 'altered' state that counted as sleep.

 

###

 

 

Pepper held up a piece of native attire for Phil's inspection. It was simple in design, a wrap of some lightweight textile dyed a vibrant crimson, edged at the top and hem with black embroidery in a squared wave pattern. "Do you think Natasha would like it?"

 

"That's an impressive red. And she would like it... But I think she'd like the blue more. Mostly blue." He reached for the batik, just to the left of the garment Pepper had in hand. "She'd spend some time trying to matrix the splotches."

 

"You'd know better than I would," Pepper said, replacing the red and picking up the blue. A request that one of their 'escorts' translate facilitated a bout of haggling.

 

Phil smiled the slightest bit, trying to figure out the language. No doubt a bit of slang involved, but it was getting easier.

 

He caught sight of himself in a mirror and smirked, brushing at the black-and-white print.

 

"We look the portrait of the American Tourist. It's cute."

 

"I confess, I wasn't sure you'd wear the shirt," Pepper said. "It's good to see you looking relaxed, though. Especially after yesterday."

 

"The nanites? I'm still..." Livid? Disgusted? "Upset about that. But I've gotten a little better at controlling my emotions. Besides which, you went through the trouble of finding a muted Hawaiian. How could I not wear it?"

 

"I wasn't sure you'd wear it here," Pepper amended. "What with in being an insular country and the need to make a good impression. I thought I could probably get you into it eventually."

 

"I'm pretty sure T'Challa was smiling at it this morning. I think it wa a smile... It didn't have the same creases as a frown. I was certain I could change into the linen suit before we left, but." He shrugged.

 

"I think this is better anyway, " Pepper said with a smile. "Suits can be a kind of armor. Especially for you. Your posture changes. It's not precisely friendly."

 

"They are a kind of uniform." He admitted. "Armor and camouflage all in one. Oh my. This would look amazing on you."

 

His hand snagged a garment. Taupe one way but when it shifted, bands of copper thread popped.

 

"You don't think the copper would clash with my hair?" Pepper asked dubiously. She pulled a corner of the dress nearer to her face and turned to face him.

 

"Not if you wear your hair up." He nodded. "Your skin helps break the colors. Any idea of what to bring the man who has bought everything and forgot where he put it?"

 

Pepper grinned. "I do, in fact. I think I see an abacus for sale a few stalls down. How could Tony resist a Wakandan computer?"

 

He barked a laugh then smirked. "Well. You can cross this month off early. Congratulations, Ms. Potts."

 

Still grinning, Pepper took a bow. "Hopefully he'll think it's funny too. I have a hard time telling with Tony anymore."

 

"That... Is fairly terrible. I'm sorry. You used to be so close."

 

"We may be again, eventually. But things could hardly be the same for us after I turned him down. He doesn't deal with rejection at the best of times."

 

"There aren't many men who like to hear 'no' to that particular question anyway."

 

"I second guessed myself fo a while," Pepper admitted. "To the point of considering proposing to /him/ after I came back. But I think it was the right decision. He didn't really want a wife. He wanted a mother, like the Lost Boy he is."

 

"And yet you knew that for how long?" He gives a gentle shake of his head, looking around at architecture and weapons stations again. "So, Wendy Darling. Which direction should we go now?"

 

"Second star to the right and straight on 'til morning?" Pepper suggested with a smile. "No, I suppose it's a little late in the day for that, isn't it?"

 

"It doesn't say which morning." Phil chuckled, pointing left and nodding back as the guard moves to let them go. "I love markets like this. Community, food, goods. Occasional undesirables." He pointed as a kid picked a man's pocket.

 

"I like them myself," Pepper admitted. "Although it would be more fun if I could do my own haggling. I don't mind wandering some more, though. I still need souvenirs for a few other people."

 

"I really wish I could take pictures. This is so unlike Somalia it's hilarious. My Ranger buddies would get a kick out of everything here." The agent smirked, deep in memory for a moment. "It's interesting, being a tourist and not... Peacekeeping. Being able to stand back."

 

"You've only traveled on business before? No exotic vacations?"

 

"The job always went first. Every time I tried to take a vacation there would be something. Either specific to myself or just near enough to interrupt."

 

"That makes me doubly glad I asked you to come along," Pepper said with a smile. "Even if it's still sort of a working vacation for you."

 

"I enjoy it. Good company, new foods, new experiences. And I'm not getting shot at. Although I expect that to happen by the end of the vacation itself. Possibly on the way back to check in at work." It was a joke, or meant to be... But it would probably come true. A mugging in the way to the offices.

 

"Just because it's always something?" Pepper asked, looking over a purple loincloth-like affair trimmed with feathers.

 

"That. It is. And that is terribly garish. I hope it's not for me?"

 

"I was thinking of it for Agent Barton, actually."

 

Phil shook his head slowly, heaving a slow sigh tinged with amusement and annoyance. "He might actually wear it. Have you ever looked at some of the things he wore in his circus? He made them himself too. This... He would probably adore. Right down to the feathers."

 

"You're shaking your head while you're telling me how much he'd like it, Phil. Which of the mixed signals did you want me to listen to?"

 

"I said /he'd/ like it. The one you would be buying it for. The head shake was me expressing disbelief it even exists. Oh, look. A matching headband." He held up the scrap of fabric with a smirk. Bright purple. With a feather.

 

"I guess that settles it," Pepper said with a grin. "The headband makes it too good to pass up." She called their escort over for another bargaining session.

 

"Thank God I have veto rights." Phil muttered under his breath and shook his head at himself. It really wasn't that bad, but he could see Clint trying to wear it outside... And the man really did have questionable choices sometimes.

 

"So much for the easy ones," Pepper said once a deal was finally struck. "No, that's not quite true. Janet will want jewelry. But the rest will be hard."

 

"Janet? Van Dyne?"

 

"That's her. We try to go to lunch together every few months," Pepper said with a nod

 

"I wonder if she's ever had a chance to work of that suit I commissioned from her... How is she?"

 

"She's what you'd get if you could multiply irrepressible times exuberant," Pepper said with a fond smile. "She's said we should go out weekly, but I really need the month to recharge between trips."

 

"And Pym?"

 

"For such a bright man he can be terribly clueless. At least that's what I get seeing him through Janet's eyes. He and I have never actually met."

 

"That... Yes." Phil nodded and rested his hand lightly on the small of her back, blocking her from the armed man across the way. Just in case. "Yes, that's a good description. Should we try something local for lunch?"

 

"Yes, I think so. It's not as though we have much choice, after all. Not even McDonald's has made it to Wakanda."

 

"But there is one in North Korea. Figure that out. No Taco Bell in either place though. Excuse me. Where do you eat when you aren't at the Palace? Any place to recommend?"

 

Their escorts looked a little shocked at the request, chatted together and then nodded a direction. Phil beamed.

 

"And here I was planning to just follow my nose," Pepper said, dimpling. "That's how I got along in Italy."

 

"Wandering from place to place? That sounds amazing, in all honestly. But I like asking locals their favorites. That was how I drank in my Army years. Well, if i wasn't just handed something."

 

"It's probably faster," Pepper admitted. "And some of the places I ended up eating weren't restaurants. If you go to a kitchen window in Italy and ask what smells so good you're probably going to be invited to dinner."

 

He licked his lips. "If you ever want a return trip... I'll gladly go along."

 

"A real vacation? Are you sure you could handle that?" Pepper asked, trying to imitate the smirk that Phil often adopted. She held it for a moment before the urge to laugh overwhelmed her.

 

He looked vaguely perturbed, then grinned, honestly grinned as she laughed.

 

"That is a lovely sound."

 

"I'm glad you think so. I've never much cared for my laugh," Pepper admitted. "Laughter is contagious, you know. If you do it more, I probably will too. Once a month... that's not much."

 

"I like the sound. And the way it crinkles your nose when it's completely real. Once a month may not be often, but each laugh is honest and unguarded. Quality."

 

"Maybe I'll shoot for two a month next year."

 

"Living dangerously, Ms. Potts." Phil let the first guard lead the way into the low building, Pepper after him and Phil in third. This looked more like someone's home than a restaurant, which just brought the woman's description of Italy closer to mind. Perfect.

 

Translation broke down when it came time to order, made impossible by the fact that /none/ of the dishes had names in English.

 

"Do you have any food allergies aside from strawberries, Pepper? If not, we could just say whatever they already have prepared. Clint and I did that in a village in India and were dragged off to a wedding. Absolutely amazing food."

 

"Strawberries are all that I know about," Pepper replied. "I was just going to ask our escorts to order whatever /they'd/ recommend, but you way works too."

 

Phil nodded and ordered both options. Sampling wouldn't be terrible and would pretty much ensure /something/ edible.

 

Pepper just looked at him for a long moment. "You seem to be picking up Wakandan quickly," she observed.

 

He cleared his throat, the hint of a blush on his cheeks. "There is a school of thought that says you know a language well enough when you dream it. It's.... I dreamed I had a very long and lengthy conversation last night." With the main computer. Ones and zeros were absolute basics and absolutely universal. The symbols that were generated by groupings may be different, but behind them - the flicker of on-and-off was the same.

 

"So something you get from the Stark side of the family?"

 

His face pinched a little at the description but it hit him as so clever he let the laugh free, reaching to squeeze her hand. "Exactly."

 

"Too bad. I was hoping it was some technique that you'd picked up during your shadowy past," Pepper said. "I can think of times when it would be handy."

 

"Nothing I know of can pick up a language quite that quickly. Even my CO would need a few more hours and comparative samples. And he's one of the sharpest, most adaptable minds I know."

 

"You can't blame a girl for hoping. I didn't think it was very likely," Pepper admitted.

 

"You can keep trying. Most of the surrounding countries speak French or Castillian as a secondary." He had done plenty of research for the trip, just in case things went south.

 

"I know. And I can usually get by in French if I need to," Pepper admitted. "Since it took us a little longer than expected to make this trip I had plenty of time to do my homework."

 

"I am sorry about the time it took."

 

Pepper waved the apology away. "There's nothing to apologize for. It was as much my schedule causing problems as yours. I'm just glad his Majesty was so flexible about the timing. If he hadn't been I'd have had to give in and invite someone else. Or hire someone."

 

"If that had been the case, I would have offered names of trustworthy individuals. Two of them are in South Africa at the moment."

 

"I probably would've asked Natasha or Steve before recruiting a stranger, if you hadn't been able to come. Not that their schedules would be easier to coordinate with."

 

"Natasha has been cleared now. She would have been an excellent choice. Steve... Talk about standing out."

 

Pepper shrugged. "He enjoys travelling and I think some time away from New York would be good for him. And blending in here wasn't really been one of your main qualifications either," she added with a smile.

 

"Time away might be good, yes..." He frowned idly. "As much as I like knowing where my people are." Another, brighter glint of humor joined the one that hadn't faded yet. "And there is a difference between standing out and... Standing head and shoulders above everyone. He would be perfectly polite, well-mannered... But probably not as good a cuddler as I am."

 

"You never know until you try," Pepper said, trying the smirk again and once again dissolving into laughter.

 

"I would dog you until you told me everything. That smirk takes practice, by the way, keep trying. You might get it. Eventually. First step into the shadows..."

 

"I'm a CEO, Phil. Pick ten people at random and at least eight of them will say that's far more sinister than being a secret agent. And I have a big fluffy white cat to pet while I sit in the big leather swivel chair down in the boardroom."

 

"Is that a declaration toward world domination? If it is, I regret to inform you I left my list of possible bribes to turn a blind eye in my other luggage."

 

"Hardly. World domination doesn't much appeal to me. Keeping a company running smoothly is more than enough."

 

"Oh good. I do want to see you in some board meeting sometime with Rapunzel on your lap."

 

"I save that for special occasions. I wouldn't want it losing impact."

 

"You've already replaced the Boy's Club. What else could warrant super villain time?"

 

"Trying to sell some of Tony's decisions. Multi-million dollar acquisitions that diversify the company into entirely new fields, for instance. Like Stark Nutraceuticals."

 

"Oh. People getting their ideas."

 

"Radical changes in direction go over better when you put a little groundwork in first," Pepper observed. "Convince people that it was their idea all along. Failing that, the best I can manage sometimes is distract them with a little theatre while assuring them it's something Tony and I planned in advance."

 

"If only we had found you first." Phil's eyes crinkled happily.

 

"I'm not sure whether I should feel flattered or disturbed by that," Pepper said. Their food had arrived while they'd been talking. She sampled it cautiously.

 

"Both is good." He shrugged and broke a piece of bread, slowly trying everything. "I know this is boar..."

 

"It's too gamy for ordinary pork,"  Pepper agreed. "And these are baked plantains. I didn't realize at first with them being all mashed up like they are."

 

They took their time over the meal, speculating on what they might be eating and how the best of it might be reproduced with materials available in New York City.

 

It would be a sight to see too, served up in the same style. Big pots and plates for serving with fingers and palms as plates and utensils. Clint and Natasha would be old hands at that, just reaching in and around people. Probably Banner as well, retreating to an acceptable distance after gaining his next serving.

 

"I wonder if I could arrange a Wakandan theme for one of the fundraiser dinners this year?" Pepper speculated. "It might be fun to see the ultra-rich trying to work out the etiquette of eating without utensils."

 

"I'd go to that one. Not sure I could afford a plate, but I'd do security just to watch."

 

"Or someone might need an escort," Pepper observed slyly.

 

"Seeing as how only two have been here..." He chuckled, offering her another strip of meat. "I could play at hosting. Let you do all of the dirty work of course. Arranging. Decorating. I'd help with the food, naturally.

 

"I wonder if any of the hoity-toits would realize the elegant standing would be true to form. Or if they'd expect "Coming to America" levels."

 

"'Hoity-toits?'" Pepper asked, gingerly accepting the meat. "It's more polite than what Tony calls them, I'll grant you that. And a few would understand, I think. Not many, but a few."

 

"Well. I was being polite. And everyonce in a while I like to throw old words in. Just because."

 

"It's endearing," Pepper assured him.

 

"Thank you." He beamed for a heartbeat. "You know, if you do throw the party... The least we could do is extend an invitation to his Majesty."

 

Pepper took out a small notebook and jotted the suggestion down. "That certainly raises the bar as far as authenticity goes, but you're right. It would only be polite. Assuming that his majesty will still be willing to receive messages from the outside world once our visit is done."

 

"Hospitality for hospitality..." He shrugged, nibbling a fruit. "For hospitality, I suppose. And the very least we could do is try."

 

"I'll be sure to send an invitation if I manage to do a decent rendition of the local cuisine. Although there are some cultural pitfalls that could be hidden in that even if the cooking is perfect."

 

"Well. We have good translators. And a cook. Maybe we can ask for access to the royal chef if we think of more questions." Phil gestured between the parties at the table.

 

"That would avoid the scenario I was imagining," Pepper agreed, taking a few more notes.

 

"I have some very good ideas." Somewhere in the back of his mind he could hear an echo. And some really bad ones too, Cheese.

 

"Well, since you're so full of good ideas today, what sort of souvenir do you think Steve would like? I had my eye out for a red, white, and blue loincloth but the bazaar didn't come through for me."

 

"Pretty much anything would be met with smiles and the want of a story." Phil considered the idea of the loincloth. The blush would have been amazing.

 

"That's not very helpful," Pepper observed, frowning as she pondered the possibilities.

 

"Sorry. A little distracted by the thought of the Captain in a loincloth."

 

"I'll grant you that," Pepper said, nodding appreciatively at the mental image.

 

"All right. Mental field trip over and filed away. I think maybe... Hm. Books - he doesn't read the native language, art - he prefers sketching and painting to sculpting, and I didn't see much along that range. I'd hesitate to bring back any weapons and food won't last. Maybe something pottery related?"

 

"I had been considering that, actually. /He's/ a sketch artist, but I think he appreciates artistry in general. You must have noticed how the local pottery is painted too, then? It reminds me of ancient Greek amphorae. He might like the one with the men throwing the discus..."

 

Pepper and Phil discussed different art styles both ancient and modern throughout the rest of the meal.

 

###

 

Upon retiring to their suite, Pepper reflexively glanced at her phone, momentarily forgetting that she hadn't had service in several days. There was a blinking reminder in her calendar.  She opened at it and swore softly. "Do you have any plans for this time next year, Phil?"

 

He arched a brow at the epitaph, a smirk on his lips. "Interesting combination. As for plans... Not much that I can think of at the moment. Why?"

 

"Because even if we left right now we'd miss New York ComicCon," Pepper said. "We made plans to go right after hearing about all the fun we missed at the San Diego one, remember?"

 

"Oh that's right... That's a shame." He frowned. "I think I could work some time about now. Probably. Or just go AWOL for one or the other."

 

"Next year, then? And for the record, I'd rather you didn't go AWOL for it."

 

"Next year." He nodded, settling in a chair by a window. "We'll make one. Some Comic-Con. Although you can't really beat Wakanda as a vacation spot."

 

"It's certainly different from anywhere I've gone before. There aren't any tourists, for one thing."

 

"Two." He waggled the first two fingers on his hand at her. "Only two. And people from outside the city, but they're nationalists. They don't count."

 

"The two being us? Does it count as being a tourist if you have an invitation from royalty?"

 

"I think it still counts. Especially if you point and go 'ooh' like I did."

 

"Well, there's that," Pepper admitted. "And the Hawaiian shirt probably pushed it over the edge."

 

"If only I had permission for a camera." He smiled wistfully.

 

"That would definitely make us tourists," Pepper replied. "But I agree. You have no idea how hard it is to find a cell phone without a camera these days. It gave my PA fits."

 

"They have those types with the large-type buttons that only make calls. That's probably what I would have started with." He flashed a quick grin.

 

"I'm aware of them. But I need something that a little more full-featured. Making calls is probaly the thing I do least with my phone. It's mostly a time and data management device," Pepper admitted. After a beat she added, "Aside from Angry Birds, of course."

 

"Oh, naturally. Angry Birds, Angry Birds: Star Wars... Fruit ninja. All of the best spacial perception games. And Plants vs Zombies."

 

"Suddenly I suspect that secret-agenting sometimes involves waiting for long periods of time."

 

"No, of course not. I just play one-handed, driving my '63 Corvette down the highway."

 

"So being a secret agent is a lot like being Tony before he built the suit?" Pepper inquired archly. "If so, I'm a little disappointed."

 

He blinked at the tone, but smiled. "If only. Lots of waiting, a flurry of panicked activity and then lots of paperwork. Sometimes there's more waiting while your heart's hammering."

 

Pepper laughed. "Okay, that sounds more like being Tony's PA."

 

"There's a lot of crossover, I think. Making sure things are right, people can perform their jobs, dragging them out if bed by the foot if necessary..."

 

"Flying to other countries with no warning, being in cars as they're being cut into pieces by supervillains..."

 

"Regular grumblings of 'I don't get paid enough'. Taking care of them after the fight. Sitting through /their/ nerves; be it checking and rechecking facts and figures or weapons, pacing, god awful movies..."

 

"So yes, pretty much exactly like being a PA," said a grinning Pepper.

 

"I do have one advantage." Phil hedged. "If they say "I don't wanna' too many times, /I/ get to taze them."

 

"I probably could've gotten away with it at least a couple times, but that's really not my style."

 

"Honestly, it's not mine either. But it makes a very effective threat. Especially to anyone who ha been tazed before."

 

"Tony especially. Since the electricity could damage the magnet that keeps the shrapnel out of his heart and all," Pepper observed.

 

"He needed a threat to know I was serious. We established boundaries and found an equitable working relationship." Phil shrugged. "Besides, he wasn't exactly thinking about damage /to/ the arc as much as the damage it was causing."

 

"I have my doubts about that, but since he survived I suppose the point is moot."

 

"True. So. How exactly are we going to wrap some of this when we get back? Or are you 'letting' your PA do it?"

 

"No, the personal touch is best for that kind of thing. I think so, anyway. I bought the little wooden box to hold Janet's pendant. Beyond that I hadn't given it much thought," Pepper admitted.

 

"I could probably sneak a few boxes from the storage areas for the larger pieces. And I think all the paper I have is from Christmas last year."

 

"I have almost a full roll of silver with white pinstripes," Pepper offered. "I wrapped a wedding gift a month or two ago."

 

"That will work perfectly. Nice and neutral, to my mind." He nodded. "Between the two, it should be perfect."

 

"I can hardly wait to see their faces."

 

"They'll be delighted. Each gift is wonderful. And I don't doubt Barton will try wandering in that purple thing you found him, just to show off."

 

"I'll be sure to switch back to a phone with a camera before we give it to him, then."

 

Phil snorted with amusement. "Video evidence. Perfect. And when he tries to wear it for Christmas morning?"

 

"I'll see if I can find him some elf slippers to go with it. The floors in the tower can get cold in the winter," Pepper replied cheerfully.

 

Phil made a strangled noise, a burst of laughter automatically repressed. The mental image alone...

 

Pepper just grinned at him.

 

"If you can't find them, I will have Wardrobe make them. I promise."

 

"That would make it easier to get a set in purple. The usual green would be a little garish."

 

"And would clash terribly." Phil smirked. "An important question: Feather trim on the cuffs?"

 

"Bells are more traditional."

 

"There aren't bells on the rest of the outfit, however."

 

"There's that," Pepper conceded. "I think I'll leave it to your sense of discretion. How does that sound?"

 

He inclined his head, accepting the decision. "Perfect."

 

"That's settled, then." Giving in to impulse, she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. Then she sighed. "Only one more day. I'm not sure if I'm ready for the trip to be over. It might be different if I knew I'd be able to come back."

 

He smiled at the kiss and clasped his hands behind his back to keep from the temptation of just sweeping her up.

 

"I don't know. There's just something a

 

bout this place. Almost like an... 'Alternate Earths' book. A 'what-if'."

 

"There are places where I wouldn't have been surprised if a dinosaur burst out of the brush," Pepper agreed. "And seeing all the ancient influences alongside their technology has been surreal."

 

"It works so well though. And I'll admit, I want to know so much more... But have to be satisfied with what I have." It was almost petulant, the last part. "More of the society, more of... Well. Everything. But I am greedy."

 

"Maybe we'll be invited back," Pepper said, reaching over to muss his hair.

 

"Wouldn't that be wonderful. I'd be much more prepared if we were."

 

"More prepared as in having packed clothes that suit the climate better? Or as in carrying a camera you're sure their security wouldn't detect?" Pepper asked.

 

"Shoes to match the Hawaiian shirt, certainly." Phil smirked, brushing his hair back into place.

 

"Of course. How silly of me."

 

"Cameras are against the rules, after all." It was almost flippant, for the spy.  But he was remembering the pain from the nanites, how the two systems had argued against one another.

 

Pepper nodded. "And you always follow the rules."

 

Phil smirked. "Of course. As close as I possibly can."

 

"Of course," Pepper echoed. "I think I even felt a halo when I ruffled your hair."

 

"Careful! Those are solid gold you know." He took her hand, tugging her into a waltz.

 

"Then again, it might have been a set of horns," Pepper mused aloud as the danced.

 

"Horns? You think so? I think those would be a little different from a halo as nice as mine."

 

"Solid gold is hard to identify by braille."

 

"I suppose horn would be easier to tell... Hmm. Did you prick your fingers?"

 

"No, no pricks," Pepper assured him.

 

"Well, then you know. Because if I had horns, I'd either file them or cap them so I could gore someone."

 

Pepper sighed. "Sometimes you are a /very/ silly man."

 

Phil chuckled. "Sometimes, yes. But sometimes you are too. Don't worry. I won't tell a soul."

 

"Our secret," Pepper agreed. She sighed. "We should be packing."

 

He kept swaying, guiding her along to music he only thought he heard. "We should. We have a /lot/ of stuff."

 

"Yes," Pepper said. "...Well, maybe not /that/ much..."

 

"Most of it is fabric. And the abacus... The pottery is really the largest thing. Things." He cast a glance at the few objects. "We could sleep on the plane."

 

"We probably should sleep on the plane. It's eight hours earlier in New York," Pepper agreed vaguely.

 

"So... We'll do this a few moments more, then pack, say good bye far sooner than we really want to... And sleep on the plane. And all the inconsequential things like bathing and changing clothes and eating in there as well."

 

"Alright. We have a plan, then. And our priorities straight," Pepper replied.

 

"I'm very thankful you're the sensible sort."

 

"It's my burden to bear," Pepper replied, dimpling.

 

The spy chuckled at the taller woman. 'Cute' wasn't often a word one associated with Pepper Potts but in moments like these, it was the first one to mind.

 

The two of them lingered in the moment for as long as they could, but no dance lasts forever. New York City was calling them home.

 

They slept as easily as they could and packed quickly, both of them being old hands at making things neat and tight. One last sweep and Phil sighed at the lovely room, letting one of the palace servants handle the bags. T'Challa was waiting for them, still as a statue.

 

Pepper curtseyed as best she was able in Wakandan garb. "Are you here to see us off, your Majesty? You really didn't have to trouble yourself. Letting us visit your country was a rare honor, even without your personal attention."

 

"You are my guests." T'Challa bowed to the woman. "I hope you both enjoyed yourselves."

 

"It was wonderful," Pepper assured him. "I'll treasure the memories for the rest of my life. And... if you should ever find yourself in Manhattan, you'll always be welcome in Stark Tower."

 

"It's been a singular experience." Coulson agreed. Which for him to say to someone outside his intimate group was practically gushing. "Thank you."

 

There was a hint of a smile behind the mask. "I may take that offer, should I find myself in New York,"

 

"Please do. I'd like an expert opinion on how well I capture the spirit of Wakandan cuisine," Pepper said with a smile. "I took plenty of notes. The translator you assigned to us deserves a medal."

 

That received a low, pleased laugh. "Perhaps I will bring him with me, should I visit. Have a safe journey home, Ms. Potts, Mr. Coulson."

 

"Rule long and well, King T'Challa," Pepper replied.

 

"I plan on it." He bowed again, watching the loading process with them for a few minutes longer until someone called for his attention. "Excuse me. Again, safe journey." And disappeared.

 

And so the trip was over. Over that was, except for the long trek through the jungle on their way to the airstrip in Tanzania, followed by most of a day spent in the air.

 

The trip to the airstrip had Phil on edge. Going from one country to another and  from such an isolated place... People could get such ideas. But no one came and everything was calm even while they were in the air.