(no subject)

[wolfintheherd]

[Task Master has been through a lot.

He has achieved many successes and many failures. He's won against SHIELD and HYDRA and they are notable enemies but it's owed to his compatriots. The few people he is worked with, the few people that he trusts in the world.

He's not unmindful of that service which is why he'd broken into Madame Masque's apartment to cook her something nice.

This is something he doesn't remember. He doesn't remember she's a SHIELD agent. Not anymore, that he in essence had not told her (really he could have forgotten but he can't recall). What he does know is that she appears during the times when SHIELD needs him and manages his money and resources. Oh she hates him, he knows that much but now, even if she might be one of the right hand people of the new SHIELD, she's still Madame Masque to him. He does remember fighting her, her with a knife to his throat before stabbing him in the shoulder and running off.

(Her face was not his fault)

The last time he'd seen her though they'd fixed it. When was that? She'd had a face. It wasn't that vaguely familiar disquieting face.

He doesn't ask her any questions. Not anymore. She just appears and reappears and vanishes but he's still here and why?...

(Quake.)

His hand stops chopping.

(The woman.)

It keeps chopping. Muscle memory, what task master lives for. Really he doesn't know a thing about cooking but he saw something about Italian/Asian fusion on TV last night and he wanted to cook it for her because-

(The woman stands straight and stares at him. Her features torn between confused and angry, then just anger. He's knocked off his feet and off the building falling into the abyss while the woman runs and stares after him and he feels...

Loss.)

Terrifying loss.

His hand trembles, but he finishes the last bit of carrots and onions and slides it into the water to boil before he sets out the wine and pours himself a glass (she won't drink it if you hand it to her already poured.)

It's so domestic.

It's when he hears her come in behind him that he keeps is hand on the knife at the cutting board.]

...You know better then to come at me with a gun behind me.

[(You don't know what I've been watching on TV)]

You're not allergic to garlic or carrots are you?

[He pulls out a slab of meat that's been dipped in sauce and begins chopping it.]

Comments

[facemyenemy]

[It's been a long day.

An even longer night is yet to come.

Kara has been on the go for a couple of days now. She's hurt and tired, sore and wants some rest. Coming back from a mission she had a bullet graze aat her shoulder, but nothing too bad. Bruises here and there, but she's survive.

She always did.

Though she showered and cleaned up back at base, she still was considering a long hot bath, lights off, a few candles on for a dim light, and napping in the tub until the water goes cold. The idea appealed to her.

As she came through her apartment door, something felt off almost instantly. Silently she closed the door, pulled her gun and toed off her flats she had on. On soft feet she walked down the wooden floor of the hall way, towards the kitchen.

On the air was vegetables. Carrots, but especially onions. That, didn't make sense...

There was the faint traces of a man she had once thought she knew well. Or well enough to recognize his smell. She had even started to have some form of... feelings... for him. But that was something she had to battle down. Shove away into the deep corners of her mind.

After all, he wouldn't remember it anyhow.

Her hand tightened on the gun as she stepped closer to the arch way that lead to the kitchen. Pointed right at his back. She could pull the trigger easy enough, but she knew he was better then that.

She was better then that too. Pulling a trigger at the back of a target? Disgraceful.

He spoke anyhow, knowing she was there. Perhaps she had been too loud, or, more likely, it was just his perfect senses that seemed to know when trouble was around.

And after their last confrontation, she was trouble to him. She wondered if he even remembered it.

The thought burned as she stared at him. Cooking.]

And you should know better then to show up in my home, uninvited. [She stared at him from behind dark bangs, long dark hair shadowing her face and features. She'd learned how to hide the scar when not wearing the mask. The mask that SHIELD fixed. That they managed to get off, to fix, to let her use as she needed. It only really responded to her properly now anyhow. She didn't wear it all the time, like now. It was with her though, but she didn't need it as much now a days.

She didn't reply about allergies. She had none, but there was no reason to bring that up. She wanted to know: "What the hell are you doing here?"

The gun still trained at his back, steady as steel and out of arms reach.]