Sharp Edges

Chapter Eighteen

The Wedding Part One

The following morning, James was up early. He undressed in the bathroom and got into the shower, resting his head against the cool tile. "I get married today."

"Yes, you are," Yelena's voice said from the bedroom, a smile on her face from her place in bed.

"Party!" Cara exclaimed with laughter.

James laughed as he turned and grabbed the soap from the holder and lathered up a rag. Normally he'd be asking Yelena to join him, but with Cara, it made things a little harder to do so.

"Yes, there will be a party," Yelena affirmed for

Cara, laughing softly. "And you'll spend tonight with Clint and the others, okay? So James and I can celebrate a little bit by ourselves?" She wasn't sure how Cara would react to being away from them for a night, but she hoped with Barton's involvement it would ease things.

"Does Clint know about the sleepover?" Cara asked. "I wonder if he has more games we can play."

"He does," Yelena replied. "And I bet you'll have all kinds of fun. And we'll see you in the morning for breakfast."

Cara giggled. "I like Uncle Clint."

"Good," the older woman smiled. "Now, later you'll get ready with me and Natasha, if you want to. Or you can hang out with James and Uncle Steve."

"Okay, momma," Cara smiled before she hopped off the bed. "Can I go to the kitchen and play?"

"Yes, you can," Yelena replied, watching as the young girl bounded out of the bedroom. She laughed softly as she collapsed back against the bed. "Momma..." she murmured to herself.

James emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. "How did that feel?" he asked softly.

"Weird," she admitted with a breathless laugh. "But... great."

"She hasn't done that with me yet."

She turned her body to face him more directly, a hand gently weaving into her hair. "She will. I think she might just be a little more comfortable around women."

"I guess time will tell," he said softly. "When do you have to start getting ready?"

She turned and glanced at the clock. "In a few hours. Natasha is trying to talk me into get my nails done before," she answered.

"Do you want to?" he asked. James walked over and sat on the edge of the bed in his towel.

"I don't know... they used to dress us up all of the time in the Red Room for espionage missions. I guess it just... reminds me of that," she admitted quietly out loud. "But Natasha says it's good to confront those things."

"You're not there anymore," he said softly. "You never will be again if I have anything to do with it."

"I know... I know," she sighed. "I just remember having no control. And I know I have it now, I do. It's just hard to shake, I guess."

James nodded. He knew how that felt all too well. "It gets better."

Sitting up, her blonde locks fell around her shoulders and she reached forward to take his hand. "I know it will. So... I should do it, right? Get my nails done?"

"Only if you want to," he told her.

She heaved a sigh and nodded. "I think I should. Because what other time would I really ever get my nails done if not for a special occasion?" she replied. She wasn't that kind of girl on an everyday basis.