1964-09-12 - Life Discussions, Part 2
Summary: Sharon and Luke talk more about their lives, and come to some realizations
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
luke-cage sharon 

The blonde is quiet again for a long moment, perhaps having been given some hard perspective here. She was so caught up in her head, but it's been shaken free now. Sharon just exhales quietly and turns her head, pressing an errant sort of kiss against the curve of his bicep, something completely not sexual about that touch and yet maybe more meaningful for it. "You're a stronger person than I am, I suspect. I'm… glad you pulled yourself out of the shit. You have a good place here. People feel… safe. They talk about it, you know? Around the neighborhood. I hear things…" Once a spy, always a spy.

Luke Cage arches a brow and looks down at Sharon, "They do, do they? What do they say?" Because, there is nothing to make a fugitive more paranoid than hearing people are talking about him. "I try not to draw to much attention to myself. I like to try and keep things off the radar so to speak."

He sighs a bit, leaning back into the pillows of his bed, "I may have pulled myself out, but sometimes I wonder if I just ended up in a different toilet bowl. It's not as disgusting as the one down at the gas n' go, but it still stinks. At least you…do something."

Sharon can feel the new tension in his frame as he asks about what they say. She just blinks, shifting her nude frame to sit up a bit straighter so she can look down into his dark eyes, "Good things. This is a safe place. That you take care of people. That you don't let shit start here. That's all… They say good things. It's good." Sharon reassures him quietly, trying to be certain he can see the truth in her eyes from where she leans over him. "And really, this whole world is a fucking toilet bowl right now… We just gotta get as many good people to the edges as possible, I guess. I don't do anything… just make holes for other shitty people to fill."

Taking in a deep breath and relaxing a bit, Luke settles back down and moves his arm to encircle Sharon's waist. "I try to make it so. Still, I get idiots that come in here every once in a while that I have to show the door. You would think word would get out eventually that they shouldn't be coming in here to mess with me."

He glances up as she leans over him, shaking his head slightly. "It can't be all bad, can it? Your job I mean. You talk like you are just the government's whore and they pimp you out for whatever…but there has to be more to it. I may not know you very well, but I can tell you are not some weak damsel in distress type. If you hate it so much, don't do it anymore…or is this one of those jobs where the only retirement plan comes with a pine box?"

A small sound escapes her throat, something happy and almost surprised by the simple comfort that comes by his arm circling around the back of her waist like that. Human touch for the sheer sake of being touched. It was nice. She could almost get used to it. So, Sharon sinks against him again, half laying on his chest so she can still stare down into his eyes. "Mm… I don't know. Sometimes, yeah, those people need killed. A lot of times they do. Sometimes I bring information back that will save a lot of our boys. It's not all bad. It's certainly not all good… like most of life, it's somewhere in the gray without any good answers. I just.. it's like I've become their prize show dog. They know I won't say no to the shit missions. They know I… I'll take whatever they give me and I'm damn good at it. So, they give me the ones other people turn their noses up to and I do it because after ten years you just… Do it."

Luke is quiet for a moment before he nods his head. "Necessary evils." He takes a deep breath, his barrel chest rising effortlessly even with Sharon's weight atop it. "I told you I was in a underground fighting ring, but I didn't tell you for weeks I refused to be a part of it. They sent in guys to my cell to beat me, I still told them no. Then they made me watch as they framed a 'friend' of mine, I watched some dude shiv a guy and then drop the shiv into Squabbles' hand. They were going to have him executed unless I fought. …so, I fought." He shrugs a shoulder, "Necessary evil. In the long run, it didn't make much of a difference. They ended up killing him later anyway…almost killed me to. Beat me within an inch of my life. I would have died, should have died…if it wasn't for Riva."

"…world's a fucked up place, isn't it, Luke? Why… why do we keep fighting for it?" Sharon asks softly, letting herself fully sink against him, so his chest is her pillow now instead and her head tucks beneath his chin, the quiet sound of his heart and breath echoing behind the rumble of his words. Several levels of exhaustion have finally taken over — most of them emotional — but she hasn't run away yet. It's a good step. She just lays there and listens.

"Pops would tell me 'Because you have the ability to'. He was always onto look towards the future, to see what /could/ be, not what is. He turned himself around so figured the world could turn around. Always forward was his motto." Luke says with a sigh. He lowers his lips to place them on the top of Sharon's head in a random tender moment, "Why does a chick dress up as a spider and go stop a car thief? Because she can." He pauses for a moment, "I met her you know, that White Widow girl. She came to the bar with another friend of mine. That was interesting." He smirks, "He also used to say if you don't feel good going to work, you should find new work. But, that goes back to being able to actually do that."

The press of a kiss in her hair makes something else in Sharon release, just a faint knot of tension that she didn't even realize was still there. It eases for a heartbeat or two. She breathes out quietly against his throat and stretches fingertips lazily upon his waist. "Your father was a smart man. I never really got to know mine. He died in the war… half the reason mum brought me over here, to be with my Aunt and close to what family we had." Sharon murmurs idly, not really compelling conversation but honesty is spilling out right now. "As for work… I… should quit, formally. Try, at least, none of this just trying to wash out shit I've been doing. SHIELD would take me, or somewhere else. I'd figure it out."

Luke Cage laughs gently. "Pops wasn't my father. Pops was a Barber here in Harlem, ran the barber shop down the block. I guess you could say he was the neighborhood's father in a way. Tried to do good for the community. I met him through Reva, and he took me in when I really had nowhere else to go. My dad was a cop here in New York. He's not around anymore either."

He squeezes his arm just a bit, and there is power there. Just the gentle shift of the muscles under his skin unleashes greater force than would be usual. "Is that what you have been doing? Trying to get them to fire you? Why? Why not just quit? Why go through the booze and the self-destructive behavior?"

That squeeze is quietly registered in the back of her head, something different there but she cannot quite tell what. Still, it's comforting, in it's own way. He might be one of the few men in the world she genuinely cannot break. So, Sharon tucks herself in closer and just lets her eyes shut, sighing at the question she's not entirely sure how to answer. "…I…don't know. I tried to quit once. They laughed and said I was just hurt I got recalled, I was being emotional…I'd get over it. Fucking men. Told them I wasn't coming in on a Monday, they said it's fine, I was on leave anyway, had to… recover from all that time in Vietnam. THey'd call me when they needed me. And, sure enough, they did. Gave me another assignment like nothing happened and I took it because… I don't know, I just did. You get trained to follow orders no matter what, so you follow orders. Thought maybe if I drank enough I could turn that off."

Luke Cage nods, "Yeah. I get that. It was when I stopped following the orders of Rackham when they killed Squabbles and beat me to near death. Speaking from experience, though, shutting off doesn't help. All it does it end up flooding back out all at once at the worst time imaginable."

He leans over, grabbing a glass of water off of the bedside table and taking a sip from it before offering it over to Sharon. "The drinking won't help. If anything, it will just make it easier for them to manipulate you into doing what they want since you won't be able to think straight."

Sharon allows herself to be disturbed enough so he can get some water, she pulling herself drowsily off of him and half sitting up in bed now. One hand goes back through her hair, instinctively trying to smooth out the mussed lines, to look put together as possible. Her expression is skeptical, nose slightly wrinkled. "…Shutting off is what they teach you to do in the field, you know? You can't think about it. Can't see them as people. Just need to… shut down and do the work. It's a good defense mechanism." She half smirks. SHe then accepts the water from him quietly, taking a long gulp. The comment about drinking makes her glare quietly, "…aren't you a bartender? Puttin' yourself out of business, talking like that." Sharon dismisses the commentary, easier to make jokes.

Luke Cage shrugs, "I'm not saying I won't serve you. Hell, I still let Jessica drink. Fuck me, I even gave that woman a tab. What was I thinking." he sets the water back as he lets out a little laugh. "I'm just saying that if your goal is to use alcohol to build up a mental defense, then your logic if flawed since it will likely do just the opposite."

He nods as she talks about shutting off, "Oh, I get that. I'm just saying that when, not if…when, the damn breaks and it all comes flooding out, it isn't going to be pretty, and that usually doesn't happen at a good time." He shrugs again, pulling Sharon back down to his chest. "You do what's good for you, though. As you said, i'm just a bartender."

"…Bullshit you're just a bartender." Sharon mutters quietly against his chest, but she doesn't fight being pulled down there. She just sinks back against him, shutting her eyes once more and almost coaching herself into finding that comfort. Remembering what it is to be human and enjoy that sort of touch. After a few moments her breath does ease again, a few muscles loosen, and she wraps her arm across his waist. "But, I'll keep that in mind. We'll see what happens. They… they might just kill me, if I really try to leave. Some nights, I wouldn't care."

Luke Cage chuckles. "You're right..i'm not just a bartender. I took a job to be a bodyguard, so I guess I am branching out a little." He runs his fingers lazily over the skin of her back, along her spine and then down over the curves of her ass. "You really think they would off you like that? Can't you go to your friend at SHIELD or the Avengers…that Cap dude?"

"I could. Or… probably a very large bartender who is just totally a bartender and happens to be ridiculously good in the sack and probably more than a bit super human. I… might know some people. But, I've never been a woman good at taking help. Or needing it.." Sharon murmurs huskily against his throat, the thickness in her tone saying that maybe, just maybe, she might fall asleep against him. She's fighting it, but she has finally relaxed enough that the desperate need for rest might finally be kicking in.

"I'm a human as the next guy…" says Luke quietly, his fingers continuing to trace lazy patterns along her back, and then with a long pause she mutters "…if the next guy is bulletproof and can bench a lot." He shrugs, "Don't ask, because I don't know how much. I've never had the ability to test it really. Not enough to knock out the big green guy, so obviously not stronger than whomever that was." He smirks, "It was the final 'gift' I was given in prison. Some sort of experimental shit that was supposed to heal me. They threw me into this vat of liquid then I was almost dead, and Rackham came in to fry me. Whatever he did, it had the opposite effect and instead of killing me it made me what I am today. Whatever that is."

"…Shit. That's you? I… I've read the file on you. You just had numbers, in that file, they don't give us names. Not always. But… shit." Sharon's awake again, hearing that. "Prep us… incase we have to take down guys like you. Only thing is, normally, just like the green guy, there aren't actually any solutions." Once more, she picks up her head, so she can look down into his eyes and actually search for something she knows isn't there — a reason she should ever have to put him down. But it's not there. He's not the terrifying experiment in the file. Her fingertips come up a heartbeat or two, tracing along his jaw line…"You know… we study Project Rebirth. The shit they gave Steve Rogers that made him Captain America. The prevailing theory is that it only worked on him because he's wired to be such a good guy. There is something… intrinsic and psychological about it. I don't know. But… you'd be the second one in that pattern."

Luke Cage blinks, her words bringing him out of his own little dozing like state. "Wait…what?!" he says, a bit alarmed as he shifts a bit under her to slightly pull away, a preparation in case he needed to run. "There is a FILE on me somewhere?" He doesn't shy away from her touch, but there is a slight almost imperceptible flinch as she brings her fingertips up to his face. "Wait, you're saying the same shit they did to me is what they did to that Cap guy? Nah, that can't be right. Why would they be doing shit like that in Seagate of all places?"

"Luke! Hey! Wait. Breathe. Seriously. Breathe." Sharon jerks up even as he does, but she doesn't get out of bed, she just looks straight into his eyes, dead serious and rather fierce. "We're the CIA. We have files on *everyone*. Seriously. It's our jobs. The moment you were in prison, there was a file on you, much less if they were experimenting on you. And… no, probably not the exact same shit as Captain America but… close. In the same genre, so to speak. They keep trying to make super soldiers, and they're trying to do it without vita rays. YOu were just another experiment… to them. But it worked because you got something like Steve in you, too. Some…goodness. I don't know how the fuck to explain it, I'm not a scientist, but I see it. I look at your fucking eyes and I see it."

Luke Cage slinks back down into the bed, resting his back against the headboard so he is proper up slightly. He brings his hand to his forehead and rubs at it for a moment, "Well, sure. I mean I don't know what I was expecting. You don't get tossed into a vat of some kind of boiling liquid, then punch your way through a wall of a maximum security prison and there NOT be a file on you somewhere. At the very least, something that registers you as dead." He shakes his head, "What else does it say in your file? Does it mention I was a cop, or other background info? Or just what happened at the prison?"

A slow sigh escapes her lips, Sharon now entirely pulling away from him so she can turn around and completely face him in the bed, her knees drawn up against her chest. Now that they're both wide awake, she reaches for the pack of cigarettes on the bedside table once more. "It… it pretty much says… Everything. I mean… they have your name. THey didn't give it to us, but… what we might face if we saw you in the field. What kind of training you had. I suspect there is a full file somewhere. I… I could get it for you, probably, if I felt like pissing some people off maybe and was real quiet about it.

Luke Cage sighs, slipping out of the bed and walking his nude self over to the kitchenette. He reaches up into a cabinet and pulls out a bottle of bourbon, before making his way back to sit on the edge of the bed. He uncaps the drink and lifts it to his lips to take a swig. "So what your saying is I'm pretty much fucked…IF you said anything." He offers the bottle over to Sharon after taking another swig. "I thought Carl Lucas died in that explosion. Never figured they would still be looking out for me. I'd just assumed they figured I ended up as ash."

"They're not… looking for you. It was a warning. It was a… 'This guy might still be out there, and you're the squad we call when we need to put supers down.' That was it. It's a lot of maybes and a lot of caution and paranoia. That's the name of the CIA. I don't actually know if they think you're alive or not, but they certainly aren't sure you're dead. Unless we got a charred body, we never think anyone is dead." Sharon murmurs flatly around her cigarette, leaning over to light it now that she's done speaking. She watches him walk around, her mind running a hundred miles an hour now as she considers. "…if it really freaks you out… let me see if I can get the file. I've stolen more important things for less reason before."

Luke Cage shakes his head, lifting the bottle to his lips again. "Naw. If you stole the file and they found out, then they would know there was some reason to look closer at it." He turns to look at Sharon and smirks, "I guess the question is, what are you going to do? I don't want to put you in a situation you have to compromise anymore than you already do for your job. If your job is to bring me in, then so be it, I won't put up a fight. I'd just ask you let me get some things settled before you do."

That question stings. It probably stings more than he realizes, as Sharon stares hard at him, her shoulders stiffening. "…You think I fucked you because I had to bring you in?" Of course he does. That's the only reason someone like her sleeps with someone, right? But it cuts deep. Sharon abruptly gets up off the bed, shaking her head as she stabs out her cigarette and starts picking up her clothing. "I fucked you because I… Liked you. I thought you were handsome and fun and… I just… I wanted to not be alone. I trusted you. I didn't even realize who you were until you started talking all that stuff. But no. I'm not here to bring you in. If they asked me? I'd probably tell them where to shove it. But… Never mind." She begins quickly shimmying into her jeans, readying to go.

"What? No. Of course not. Hell, that thought never even crossed my mind." says Luke as he looks to Sharon with a furrowed brow. He stands up to walk over and put an hand on her shoulder, "I know you didn't know who I was till just a moment ago. How could I have even though that was the case." He snorts, giving her a little smile. "I was just letting you know that since you did know NOW, if you had to take me in I wasn't going to make an issue of it. Thats's all."

The hand on her shoulder will find her ever so faintly shaking, a mix of hurt and anger all bubbled up then so tightly tamped down because that's what she does, but it's still there, being swallowed back with her racing pulse as she tries to pretend it isn't. Sharon looks up to him as he says that, a bit more gentle, following it up with that little smile. She tries to calm, searching his features to see if he's lying to her but, once more, she sees nothing but that genuinely sweet, protective man. "…sorry. I… I'm not going to take you in. I promise." She finishes, lacking words to really explain her reaction, so that is the best she can offer.

Luke Cage nods, giving her another little smile, then offering up the bottle in his hand over to her. "Alright." he says with a little nod, "But don't make a promise to me, Sharon. There may come a time that for whatever reason you may get orders or something and I don't wan you to have to break your word. Let's just agree that for now you aren't going to take me in for questioning and leave it at that."

The woman accepts the bottle, raising it to him in a silent toast before knocking back a good gulp of the stuff, letting the burn make her eyes water a bit, she's drank so deep. She then hands it back to him and sighs, standing there in nothing but her jeans. "You gonna go something that threatens hundreds or thousands of people? Then fine, I'll take you in. But… not for any bullshit reason. Not because they're scared because you're a black guy with power, and I'm sure as SHIT that scares them. Don't fuck up and… I'll keep my promise."

Luke Cage chuckles, taking the bottle back and nods. "Deal."

He takes another sip from the bottle and then moves back over to set the bottle on the counter, before walking back over to look for his own pants. "I don't think you have much to worry about on my end. It not like I am some sort of fuckin 'power man' or something. The worst that is likely to happen is me getting shot again, and having to replace another shirt. That seems to happen around here more than I would like. The protection rackets are getting to be damned ridiculous and I have half a mind to go put and end to them myself."

An almost pout comes across Sharon's lips as she watches him reach for his own pants. She's killed the spike of adrenaline now, the bourbon helps, and she looks back over to his bed. "…We could both get dressed and pretend this never happened, or we can crawl back into bed, try and get a decent night's sleep and… maybe… be happy to see each other in the morning. I have no clue how any of this shit works, but…" She hasn't grabbed for her shirt yet. Standing there in nothing but pants, hair still a tossled mess, a few happy bruises marking her flesh from their enjoyments, she looks remarkably vunerable. For once.

Luke Cage shrugs a shoulder, letting the pair of pants in his hand drop back to the floor. "I like the sound of the later better." He walks back over to stand in front of her, placing a hand out to lightly reach out and lift her head by the chin. "Just so you know, you're doing just fine." He grins, lowering his lips down to kiss her cheek before pulling back "And at least you know I really am unbreakable." he says with a chuckle. He glances from Sharon to the bed, then back. "Sleep? I might be a bit worked up for sleep just yet. Maybe we can do something to relax us again."

They probably had some business to still talk. The risks that both their positions put them in, especially starting something like this. But then he's right there, and he smells like the bedroom and masculine sweat. Sharon is no longer thinking about files and her bosses. She leans up, turning her head from that kiss and moving straight to his mouth instead. "I… think we can thoroughly exhaust each other. Consider the first round warm up…" And then she's shoving him back on the bed, hard as her quite toned frame can. It's still not hard enough for her to put him down if he actually fought her, but she's holding nothing back now. Sleep would happen… Eventually.

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