#c:sharon

Dreamer let out a laugh, surprised at the comment. “That’s kind of the job,” she replied pushing her hair back from her face. The knife had been a surprise, but she’d still managed to subdue the man before more people got hurt. 

Barry was getting tired of staying inside and was pretty hungry, so he slipped on a zip-up hoodie and left his apartment. He put the hood on before he left the building, slipped his hands into his pockets, headed down a bit towards the Chinese place and glanced back behind him, hoping that he wasn’t being followed. He ran into someone, letting out an oof before he looked ahead and swallowed hard. “Im sorry.”

Valkyrie took a sip of her drink and glanced at her watch. She needed to head home and write up her article, but she was waiting on Sharon to show up, hopefully.  She spun the empty glass, knowing that she would need to call it a night soon. She let out a sigh, ran a hand over her face and chewed on her bottom lip. “Its about time you showed up.”

TW: mention of death, alcohol, grief, gun

Romilda wasn’t sure what time it was. Or what day it was. Time had been strange this past week or so. Moving too quickly, and yet not at all. Trapping her in that moment when she’d arrived at the wreckage, to find only her sister’s broken necklace left behind. To know so clearly in that moment that she was.....

She drowned her sorrows, falling back into old habits. Habits only Rosie had been able to pull her out of. Everything seemed to lead back to her sister. Every train of thought back to that pain. How did she always seem to end up alone? The one constant in her life, apart from violence, was her sister.

Instead of work, Romilda had been investigating. Trying to find out who did this, and where they’d run to. So far, nothing. None of her usual sources were bringing up anything. Not even contacting old sources--who she’d hoped never to speak to--had done the trick. She was feeling lost. Pacing the apartment, she took a swig of whiskey as she tried to figure out her next move, until she was disturbed by a knock at the door. 

Grabbing her gun, Romi opened the door just a crack, only relaxing when she saw who stood there. “Carter.”

With Captain Rogers, Sharon was at a loss for what to get him. What could she get him that he couldn’t get from his billionaire husband? It wasn’t until she went to visit Peggy that she came up with some sort of idea. She wrapped the gift in a large box, adding a few containers of fruits, chocolates, and cheeses to go with it. In a manilla envelope, she added a few of the drawings she had done when she was truly small, hoping he’d like that sort of sincerity from her younger years. She wrapped everything up in silver paper and delivered to him personally.

Captain Rogers, Merry Christmas big guy. Peggy told me the fondue story, just had to bring it up again and remind you. And don’t judge my drawings as a little girl- you were and continue to be my hero. Had to do something to commemorate such admiration. Your Friend,  Sharon Carter

Tony was probably the one person Carter felt the most guilty over. In previous years, she had made it a point of pride to always give him a gift on Christmas day. It was their relationship, and they always tried to make Christmas special for one another. But now, he had Steve, and she had Pietro. They were growing up, and it was crazy to consider. So, in an effort to keep themselves as childish as possible, Carter wrapped a number of boardgames in different boxes, left him with a stocking full of suckers and other candies, and wrapped up various other boxes with various colors of wrapping paper. She delivered everything the day she went over to celebrate their own Christmas, hoping he would focus more on the gifts than anything else.

Tony, I love you and you’re grand and I hope you realize that. You always make me smile, and I want you to know that I love you even more for that simple ability. I know this is late by a week, but I hope you can forgive your little sister… just like when I broke something in your lab as a toddler.  I love you, and Merry Christmas.  Your Sister,  Sharon Carter

Tony shut down the computers when a small tap on the glass door of the workshop caught his attention. The noise was not, as he’d suspected, coming from the outside—one of his team members or Rhodey come to drag him out of work—but from Dum-E’s claw as he peered out of the glass to set his sights on a stack of boxes just outside the door. Tony stretched, smiling amusedly—not that he’d let his bot catch sight of that (then he might think that Tony actually liked him, and they’d be in a world of trouble). He carefully kneed the bot out of the way so he could scoop up the stack of boxes and grinned when he saw the name on the tag. It had been a while since he’d seen Sharon—not by a long shot their longest blackout (there had been a time in his, well, “darker” years when he hadn’t seen her at all, and SHIELD, Avenger-ing, and Stark Industries kept them both more than busy), but Tony couldn’t say he didn’t miss her antics and, he thought as he ripped open the first box only to find several smaller boxes of sand inside and then a stack of board games, her sense of humor.