Chapter Text
Leaving home suddenly was one thing and it was certainly something Cassie had thought might happen. Leaving home suddenly to get on an aircraft to travel to one of the most reclusive nations on earth was quite another. To top that, knowing that the journey would take several hours and she would be with a group of people with a lot of questions for her, well, that caused her a significant amount of concern. However, she knew she owed Bucky an explanation about Alisandra, so she put her concerns to one side and went with them anyway. She’d done other inadvisable things before. Alisandra had also done inadvisable things. Some might say doing inadvisable things is a family trait and they’d be right.
As it turned out, the flight to Wakanda went smoothly. While there were many questions waiting for Cassie, and not just from Bucky, it turned out that the majority of the questions were directed at T’challa.
To the casual observer it might seem that the conversation just flowed that way.
The casual observer might also say that if the conversation was driven by anything, it was Cassie’s curiosity about the traditionally reclusive nation of Wakanda.
However, T’challa knew better, he had concluded that his new guest being subjected to a barrage of questions would make for an unpleasant journey. His subtle steering of the conversation ensured Cassie was not interrogated on the trip home.
By ensuring that he carefully guided the conversation it meant everyone on the aircraft got to know each other on a friendly level. For the most part there was nothing more intrusive than inconsequential small talk. The atmosphere was calm and relaxed.
That was until he sensed that the friendly conversation was dying out. He knew that could mean an awkward silence that may last for the remainder of the journey and that would not be pleasant for those on board. To counteract the awkwardness, he made full use of Cassie’s curiosity about Wakanda. He started telling stories of Wakandan history, which had the feeling of the great tradition of passing on ancestral stories by word-of-mouth from one generation to the next. Each story was a small piece of theatre, with gestures and posturing as grand as could be managed in the confines of an aircraft (but not without things getting in the way or the odd bumped head). Some of the stories were punctuated by Shuri chiming in with cheeky remarks on the comms.
The aircraft touched down well into the evening. As everyone prepared to disembark, T’challa took Cassie to one side and spoke quietly with her. Bucky watched and tried not to listen, as he knew the conversation had nothing to do with him. After a few moments, Cassie nodded and smiled. T’challa turned and spoke to the others.
“It is late. We should all get a night's rest before we let Cassie tell her story. There is nothing so pressing that it cannot wait until the morning.” And with that T’challa led everyone off the aircraft and instructed the waiting servants to show Cassie to the apartment assigned to her.
Steve, Bucky and Wanda returned to their shared apartment. The lights came on as they entered. The main living area had been cleaned and tidied. The selection of snacks and drinks had been replenished in the kitchen area. Steve and Wanda had both left their bedroom doors open, so the servants knew they could make up the beds and clean the en-suite bathrooms. Bucky, as was normal for him, had closed his bedroom door before they left, so the servants had left a basket with fresh bedding and towels, plus toiletries outside the door.
After a long and tiring day, they said their good nights and headed to their own rooms.
Bucky picked up the basket as he passed it, placing it inside the en-suite bathroom before returning and closing the bedroom door. He undressed, folding and stacking his clothes in a neat pile on the top of a chest of drawers. He changed into a pair of loose fitting shorts and a sleeveless top. After placing his phone on the bedside table, he headed to the en-suite bathroom. A few moments later, as he returned to the room and climbed into bed, his phone chimed. For a moment he considered ignoring it, but his curiosity got the better of him. His phone screen showed a message from an unknown number.
‘Thank you for your patience. I know you must have a lot of questions for me about Alisandra. I promise you a full explanation.’
A few seconds later it chimed again.
‘It’s Cassie, by the way.’
Bucky smiled. Cassie would probably never know how much she reminded him of her mother. His memory may be shot to pieces in some respects, but talking to Cassie stirred memories of Alisandra. He was sure that the two women were as alike as two peas in a pod.
For a few moments he toyed with the idea of sending a reply that said, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that you wanted to start now.’ Instead he replied, ‘When you're ready, there’s no hurry.’
He waited a few minutes and when no reply came, he turned the light off and settled down to sleep. Maybe he’d said the wrong thing or maybe he’d upset her. Had she wanted him to meet up and start talking now? Bucky wasn’t sure. But he reasoned that she wouldn’t have dropped everything to come all this way, get upset by something fairly trivial and then refuse to talk. That wouldn’t make any sense. If there’s one thing he remembered, Alisandra was for the most part sensible and Cassie, given all the evidence so far, was the same.
For a few minutes Bucky lay awake thinking about how similar the two women were. He wondered why that was. They say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Could that explain it or was there something else? A thought occurred to him that might explain everything, but it couldn’t be right. When it became clear that the thoughts churning around his head weren’t going to go away and his overactive mind would keep him awake, he turned the light on, opened the drawer in the bedside table and got out his notebook. Turning to a pair of blank pages, he started writing. On the left hand page, he made a list of all the questions he wanted to ask Cassie. Then on the right hand page, he wrote all the ideas and theories he had about her and her mother, plus any memories he had that were relevant. When he’d finished, his mind had calmed enough that he thought he might stand a chance of sleeping. Returning the notebook to the drawer, he once again settled down and drifted off to sleep.
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Cassie had spent the time since she arrived looking around her assigned rooms. The royal guest apartments appeared to be newly built. To her eye they looked similar to a modern high-end hotel suite. The local artwork that accented the rooms was the only thing that gave away that you were in Africa. Purely out of habit she searched the room for any listening devices or hidden cameras and once it became clear that there were none she finally relaxed.
Realising that she was hungry, Cassie walked over to the small kitchen area. While searching the room she’d only briefly looked through the contents, but now a closer look was in order. The fridge was stocked with an assortment of soft drinks, some familiar, others not so, plus fruit juices and bottles of water. There was also a bottle of fresh milk, a few chocolate bars and a fruit salad. Various other snacks and a bowl of fruit were next to the kettle. There were also two small cupboards. One with drinks glasses, cups and plates. The other had a variety of teas, coffees, hot chocolate and sugar. ‘They think of everything,’ she thought to herself. It came as no surprise that the kettle was full. Getting out a tea bag and cup she made herself a drink and looked at the fruit salad in the fridge. ‘The fruit would be more healthy, but,’ she thought to herself as she grabbed a chocolate bar. After the day she’d had, healthy could wait.
She padded over to the seating area, placing the tea and chocolate bar on the side table next to the sofa. Then returned to the kitchen area and grabbed the phone that she’d left on the counter. T’challa had handed her the phone when they arrived with the instruction to, ‘Use this if you need anything. I know you had little time to prepare, we wish to make your stay a comfortable one.’
She curled up on the sofa to examine the phone while drinking her tea. It was a fairly normal smartphone, similar to all the other smartphones on the market, certainly very much like her own smartphone (which she’d powered down before locking it in the safe in her bedroom at home, thus ensuring nobody could use it to track her.) This one was obviously a Wakandan-made one with its own apps. On the notifications was a ‘Welcome to Wakanda’ message with a link to a Help app.
After a while she had finished her tea, chocolate bar and a tour of the Help app. She’d discovered a couple of things that intrigued her. First, she could contact the palace kitchens and have any selection from a huge variety of food delivered to her door (not that she’d ordered anything). Second, she’d discovered Michael, the King's valet, who seemed to have an array of responsibilities including being called, ‘To assist with any wardrobe requirements you may have.’ She looked over at her go bag and thought for a moment. She would run out of clean clothes in a couple of days and most of them weren’t really appropriate for this climate, so she’d at least need some laundry done. Intrigued as to what exactly he could do to help, she clicked on a link to contact him.
The app opened up a form which requested information like height, clothing size, shoe size and a couple of other things. She filled it in and clicked the button labelled ‘Submit’ and thought no more of it. As it was now fairly late in the evening she presumed he’d be in touch in the morning. She could sleep in a tee shirt; it wouldn’t be the first time she’d done that and probably wouldn't be the last.
Finally, she looked at the contact list already saved on the phone; there weren’t many numbers there. T’challa and Shuri were listed. ‘Really? The king and princess’ personal numbers. My goodness!’ she thought. She hadn’t even met Shuri face to face yet. Wanda and Steve’s contact information was there too, but the name at the top of the list was the one that interested her the most - Bucky.
She spent a long time agonising over sending him a text message. What would she say? Finally she had a chance to see him and talk to him. It was a chance Alisandra had given up on, despite her many years of searching after she’d had to leave him so suddenly.
Her thoughts wandered to today’s events. Bucky showing up on the doorstep was something that she knew Alisandra both dreamt of and had nightmares about. Her dreams were of Bucky remembering and coming to find her, her nightmares were of the Winter Soldier coming to find and eliminate her. Both scenarios were unlikely, until it happened and thankfully it was the dream that came true.
Cassie was snapped back to the present by a knock at the door. Slightly surprised by this, she went over to the door and opened it cautiously.
Peering through the gap revealed a tall, slightly-built black man who spoke with a very proper English accent, “Good Evening, Miss Falsworth. I am Michael. You required some clothing?”
“Oh, err...yes,” she said, opening the door a bit further.
“If now is not convenient, I can return in the morning, at a time of your choosing.”
Thinking for a moment Cassie was about to apologise for bothering him at such an hour and ask to see him in the morning. But just as she was about to speak, she became aware of a small group of servants standing behind him each holding a pile of clothes or several shoe boxes. ‘Ah, of course, should’ve realised with the questions on the form,’ she thought to herself. “No, no it’s fine. I’d hate for you to have gone to all the trouble of coming over here for nothing. I hope you don’t mind me contacting you so late, by the way,” she rambled on nervously.
“I do not mind, Miss Falsworth, it is my job and my pleasure to help,” Michael replied, smiling reassuringly.
Cassie stepped aside and Michael and the servants entered the apartment.
“I have taken the liberty of choosing some clothing options for you that would be suitable for our climate. It is appreciably warmer here than in England at this time of year,” Michael explained.
“That’s wonderful, thank you,” Cassie replied, astonished by both the service and Michael’s accent. When she had contacted him she didn’t expect him to be English. She fought the urge to ask him about himself, as it would possibly be a touch impertinent.
“All of the garments and shoes we have brought are in the sizes you submitted. With your permission we will place the items in your bedroom. Then perhaps the easiest thing would be that I leave you to try them on, and you can tell us when you are ready for the surplus to be collected.”
“That would be wonderful, thank you so much, all of you,” Cassie said as she watched the servants file into her bedroom and after a short time, leave.
Michael remained in the main room with Cassie, watching the servants coming and going. Once they had finished he said, “If there is anything else you need, please do not hesitate to contact me. I can give you my number. It would make things easier.”
Cassie picked up the phone T’challa had given her and held it out for Michael to add his number. Taking the phone he touched it to the bracelet of large beads he had on his wrist. The phone chimed and he handed it back. “All set, saved to your contacts.”
“Thank you,” Cassie replied a little surprised.
“You are welcome, Miss Falsworth,” Michael smiled and walked out of the apartment, closing the door behind him, leaving Cassie still a little surprised by what had just happened.
Cassie walked into the bedroom to find clothes hung in the open wardrobe. The shoe boxes were neatly stacked in the bottom of the wardrobe. The drawers had been left with the top one half open, it contained underwear and socks. Pushing it closed and opening the lower drawers in turn revealed various types of clothing, all neatly arranged. Reopening the second drawer she spotted a small pile of light-weight pyjamas, consisting of loose fitting shorts and camisole tops. ‘That’ll do nicely,’ She thought, getting changed into the first set she came to.
She went back into the main room, checking the door was locked and the lights were off. Picking up her go bag and the phone, she returned to the bedroom, closing the door.
She sat on the bed with the phone. For a few minutes she wondered about contacting Bucky, wondering what to say, before finally opening a new text message to Bucky and writing ‘Thank you for your patience, I know you must have a lot of questions for me about Alisandra. I promise you a full explanation.’ She hit send before realising it would come up as unknown on his phone, so quickly followed it with a second message, ‘It’s Cassie, by the way.’
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