❝WHEN WE FIGHT, WE FIGHT LIKE LIONS.❞
❝BUT THEN WE LOVE AND TELL THE TRUTH ❞
In which an ego-centric ex-Widow who thinks superheroes are bullshit has to team up with two and falls in love with one.
[TFWS-?]
{Sam Wil...
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The four of them walked down the narrow bridge leading into Madripoor, the cityscape ahead a dazzling mix of neon lights and shadowed alleyways. The air was thick with the scent of smoke and spice, tinged with an undercurrent of something acrid that Sam couldn't quite place. Cherry adjusted the sleek black wig she wore, brushing the faux hair over her shoulder with a smirk.
"So you take that with you everywhere you go?" Sam asked, eyeing her disguise.
Cherry glanced at him, her eyes glinting mischievously. "Espionage is sort of my job. I can't help it if I'm always prepared," she replied smoothly.
Sam tugged at the lapels of the vibrant suit Zemo had provided him, feeling distinctly out of place. "Well, I need to do something about my outfit. I'm the only one who looks like a pimp," he grumbled.
Zemo glanced over, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Only an American would assume a fashion-forward Black man looks like a pimp," he remarked. Cherry snorted softly at that. "You look exactly like the man you're supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger."
Sam took the phone Zemo offered, staring at the photo displayed. "He even has a bad nickname," he muttered.
"Because Birdman is better?" Cherry quipped, a playful smile on her lips.
"It is not Birdman!" Sam snapped, his patience wearing thin. "Hell, he does look like me though."
"I wouldn't say that. That guy's actually kinda cute," Cherry teased, casting a sidelong glance at Sam. He glared at her, exasperated.
"Are you gonna be like this all the time?" he asked, trying to keep his annoyance in check.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Am I bothering you?" she replied innocently.
"You're distracting me," he said, his tone clipped.
"Is it the dress?" she smirked, gesturing to her sleek, form-fitting attire that blended elegance with an edge of danger.
"I didn't mean it like that," Sam stammered, his cheeks flushing slightly as he tried to change the subject. He sniffed the air, wrinkling his nose. "What the hell is that smell? Acid?"
"Madripoor," Zemo interjected, his voice taking on a serious tone as they approached a parked car waiting for them. "No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There's no margin for error." He gestured towards the vehicle. "High Town's that way. Not a bad place if you wanna visit, but Low Town's the other way."
"Let me guess, we don't have any friends in High Town," Sam said as they climbed into the car, the doors closing with a soft thud. The driver pulled away smoothly, merging into the chaotic flow of traffic as they headed deeper into the city.
Cherry glanced out the window, watching the streets of Madripoor unfold before them. The neon signs flickered in vibrant hues, casting colorful reflections on the rain-slicked streets. Vendors lined the sidewalks, hawking wares of dubious origin, while shadowy figures moved in and out of dimly lit doorways.
