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Maria's a spy. She's accustomed to keeping secrets, body, mind, and soul.
This time it's different because the secret is her own.
--
What are you doing now?
The first time, she blunts her answer, short and crisp. Going home.
He watches her for a moment longer than can be accounted for politeness or mental processing. Ah, right then.
The guy she picks that night is bigger than she usually goes for. Taller, broader across the shoulders, more likely capable of physically overcoming her. Maria prefers her men controllable - if not physically, then mentally. And this one may be nicely proportioned in all the necessary places, but he's dumb as an ox. Luckily, she doesn't need him for his witty conversation, and he's malleable enough to take the instruction she needs him to have.
Next morning, Steve Rogers greets her at the ramp of the Quinjet as she strides up it. Morning, Hill. Good night?
She doesn't break stride, although something in her mentally checks. Can't complain, she tells him coolly.
Mind if I watch you fly us back to DC? I'm still learning the Quinjet controls.
Somehow she doubts that. Rogers learns fast. But protesting would be counterproductive and draw attention to herself in ways she doesn't want. Not at all .
There's no reason for the hairs on the back of her neck to be standing straight up. No reason to feel on edge as she flies him and the two agents and six STRIKE operatives in the passenger hold back to DC.
No reason at all.
--
Romanoff sometimes calls her 'the sailor' when the Russian is in a particularly pointed mood. 'The Sailor' as in 'a lover in every port'.
Maria doesn't argue the term, after all, she does find a man in nearly every city. Men make up 49% of the world, and most don't ask questions when a not-terrible-looking woman wants a night of sex, no strings attached, even if he does have to wear a condom. But Maria doesn't play where she works, and she doesn't sleep where she works. The men at S.H.I.E.L.D are teachers, mentors, colleagues, occasionally friends, and always off-limits.
She keeps to herself, inasmuch as they let her.
--
Yes?
I'm looking for a place to eat, Rogers says from the door. Somewhere you'd recommend.
Maria considers the request without turning around. The supersoldier's begun to attend farmers' markets around the city, and has developed a keen interest in the variety of foods available all across the world. Other agents have reported he sometimes makes quick but tasty meals in the safehouse kitchens, and Barton's started a betting pool around what Rogers is going to cook next.
Apparently Turkish is on the menu.
It's not fancy, she says, but there's a small eatery for locals a few streets away. They only speak Turkish, but they understand enough English that if you let them know I sent you, they'll be happy to feed you.
Why don't you come with me?
I can call ahead and let them know you're coming if you want.
That's not what I asked. That turns Maria around, both literally and metaphorically. She needs to see his face, because his tone of voice makes no sense with his words - with any set of interpretations to his words that she puts on it.
His smile is faint and somehow self-deprecating. Exactly how a man of his height, breadth, and looks manages that, Maria doesn't know, but she stares for a very long moment, trying to formulate words. If this was an ordinary guy - not a guy who works for SHIELD, not one who fits in with the STRIKE teams, not one who looks the way Steve Rogers looks - she'd say it was an invitation.
So what are you asking?
I'm asking you to come to dinner with me, Agent Hill.
The way he says it is perfectly polite, most definitely not an order or demand. However, there's a hint that strongly suggests he might not be against hauling her up and dragging her out of the safehouse. Maria's ears and chest and belly flush hotly.
I don't date operatives.
It doesn't have to be a date, he says promptly. You can just show me how to order dinner in another language.
Her stomach rumbles as her cheeks go pink.
It turns out that showing him 'how to order dinner in another language' also ends up including 'sex in his hotel room afterwards'.
--
Over the next six months, Maria Hill most certainly does not carry on a relationship with Steve Rogers. They don't date. They order food in other languages, usually after missions but once at her apartment. They have sex. Quite a lot of it.
Maria wouldn't say that nobody knows, but nobody confronts her about it - at least, not directly.
--
Barton catches her on her way down to the labs, casual and conversational.
How'd Barranquila go?
Cleared out the goods, stashed them in the Warehouse, came home. Maria eyes him. Were you the one with the contact who noted missing body parts? Tell her she was correct.
He winces slightly - as all the men do when they find out exactly which body parts were being harvested from the Chitauri corpses. How's Rogers working out with Rumlow and the boys in STRIKE?
There's no complaints that I've heard. Of course, the STRIKE teams are insular - if there were complaints about Rogers, Maria wouldn't be hearing them. And Rogers doesn't say anything about STRIKE to her - they don't really say all that much when they're together. Why?
Connections, Barton glances sidewise at her. I heard Fury put Agent 13 on the job of drawing Rogers out.
Maria doesn't so much as twitch, even though the thought of Sharon as honeypot is less than pleasing to her. Also, there's a part of her that's stung; she's worked with Rogers on more than one occasion - did nobody think she was capable of making the connection with him?
Then again, she and Rogers are having sex without actually talking about the relationship, so...maybe whoever made the decision to put Sharon in Rogers' orbit is right.
I'm not sure he's actually open to making connections, she says after a moment's hesitation.
Barton tilts his head. Something to keep in mind, I guess.
--
After that, Maria avoids getting into situations where Rogers can catch her alone and ask, Dinner? And when he does manage to corner her, she has a plethora of excuses ready to go.
Maria expects him to leave it at that. She should have known better. This is, after all, the man who attempted to join the army more times than he'd had hot dinners since the start of the war.
Was it something I did that crossed a line for you?
Excuse me?
You're avoiding me, he says, frankly. Which is entirely your right. I accept that. But if I did something that made you uncomfortable in our relationship, or crossed a boundary I didn't recognise, I'd like to know.
Maria doesn't have an answer ready for him. Her mind has gone suddenly and completely blank, and she can't think of how to redirect him around this one. We don't have a relationship, Rogers.
We do. He indicates the space between the door where he's leaning and her chair at the desk. We both work for S.H.I.E.L.D, you give me assignments, I report back to you. His gaze is almost defiant, as though he's challenging her to argue with him on this. His voice lowers. Sometimes we fuck.
The word sounds even more crude coming from his lips. Maria stifles the shiver that whips through her. Unfortunately, he's observant enough to catch it and his gaze kindles.
Is there any hope he hasn't heard the line, 'it's not you, it's me'? She exhales. I have a professional reputation that I can't afford to lose.
For a moment, she thinks she'll have to spell it out for him - men never realise the risk that women run in a relationship. But he stills, arrested, as though the thought has only just occurred to him. And I've become an unacceptable risk. I see . His lashes drop over his eyes for a moment, before they lift and what drops over him is the cool, most remote expression she's ever seen on him. I regret adding to your work, he says after a moment. I won't bother you further.
She waits until she hears the door of the safehouse close behind him, shutting her into silence and solitude before she lets out a shuddering exhale.
--
Over the next two months, Maria's too busy to regret torching the relationship.
That's what she tells herself anyway.
She and Rogers remain cordial, even friendly. But sometimes she'll catch him watching her when they're in the same spaces, and sometimes she thinks of his mouth and hands and cock in her when she's using her vibrator, and at least once she takes a call from him in the middle of the night when they're both in town.
Rogers?
The silence drags long enough that she's about to demand a safe code. It's fine, he says, a little roughly. Old memories. And hangs up.
Maria nearly calls him back.
Nearly.
That's around the time Romanoff starts trying to hook Rogers up with someone - anyone, really. Anyone except Maria.
She'd find it funny if it didn't sting. And she's annoyed at herself for it even stinging, because who she is and what she does has no bearing on Steve Rogers, Captain America, S.H.I.E.L.D operative, and man out of time who isn't making the connections that Fury wants him to make in the present day to keep him engaged and active and invested in the world as it is, instead of longing for a life that's lost to him.
Maria can manage professional colleagues with Rogers, but she values her place in S.H.I.E.L.D more.
The situation with Rogers comes to a head during the activation phase of Project Insight. Rogers starts digging in places he shouldn't dig, Pierce starts throwing his weight around, and then Fury gets himself shot up and apparently killed. So Maria already has plenty on her plate when Jasper - Jasper , of all people - questions her relationship with Rogers vocally, openly, publically, in a room full of analysts and agents and operatives. At which point Maria knows her time with S.H.I.E.L.D is up and done. Even if Alexander Pierce is willing to keep 'Fury's bitch' on the payroll (oh yes, she's heard all the names, all the rumours, slander and gossip), she'll never be trustworthy again - more, she'll never be respected again.
Fury is hurt and disappointed when Maria backs Rogers to take S.H.I.E.L.D down. What he doesn't understand is that she's got a personal stake in the deal - and it's not Rogers himself.
--
Working for Stark Industries - at least on the surface - is both confusing and a relief.
You don't have to work all day and all night to justify your hire, you know, Pepper says at the end of the second week.
I know.
Pepper drops elegantly into the visitor's chair. So far as Maria can tell, the other woman does everything elegantly. It's intimidating, rather like dealing with Romanoff, although in Romanoff's case it's supposed to be intimidating. Then again, Pepper is dealing with men in corporate business, so intimidating is necessary - particularly given she's in a relationship with Tony Stark.
I got a call from Steve Rogers today. He wanted to know if you have any time off coming to you. I told him you're welcome to take any amount of time you need to deal with whatever he has in mind.
The tone is innocuous. They might be talking World Security, the work of the Avengers, the mopping up of the remnants of S.H.I.E.L.D and the management of the data that Romanoff scattered all over the internet - most of which was rapidly scooped up, corralled off, deleted from servers, and the trail erased by JERVIS. Stark still occasionally storms into Maria's office - no knocking of course, it's Stark - and demands what S.H.I.E.L.D was thinking with their interference in this matter or that. Maria usually lets him rant himself out, and then offers him a drink and a problem to solve.
But managing Tony Stark is easy enough. Managing Steve Rogers is another matter entirely.
She isn't even going to try to manage Pepper Potts, especially not when the other woman asks, Can I ask what Steve Rogers is likely to have in mind for you?
I wouldn't presume to know, Maria says as coolly as she dares. Yes, she likes Pepper. Yes, they've formed a kind of alliance around Stark, the Avengers, and World Security. Yes, she thinks that this might be a woman she can trust with her secrets. But she's been burned too many times to trust so easily. Not yet. Not completely. So she doesn't answer the question.
Pepper regards her for a second or two, then smiles slightly. Tony definitely owes me a dinner without technology.
--
She answers the phone because she promised him she would help with the hunt for Barnes. So far, in three months of hunting, neither he nor Wilson have turned anything up. Not even Romanoff has managed to dig the guy out, and Maria is pretty sure that Natasha and Barton are working together on this. It seems the Winter Soldier doesn't want to be found and so he's going to stay hidden.
I need your advice, are Rogers' first words. I'll cook dinner.
Maria blinks, hearing the sound of water running in the background. Where are you?
My apartment in the Tower. You can come up, eat dinner, consult, and go back to your office after if you want.
The tone is brisk and businesslike, the words crisp and curt. She has no reason to think this is anything other than dinner and a consult.
About the time he sets down the salad of greens on the side of the ravioli in creamy pesto sauce - after serving a spicy tomato soup for starters - Maria starts to think that this is maybe not quite as professional as she thought. When he brings out the apple pie a la mode for dessert, she fixes him with a glare. Yes, she is a complete sucker for apple pie. Take that however you want.
Later - much later, after dinner, the consultation about likely locations for Barnes to hide out, and the long round of slow and sensuous sex, an arm curls around her waist as she starts to slip out of bed. Are we keeping this secret, again?
Maria wonders just how secret it can be kept when JERVIS is monitoring all Tower personnel, when Pepper has a bet running with Stark, when Wilson doubtless asked Rogers what he was going to do while in the city and Rogers likely answered straight up. And still she hesitates. Because she's always been risk averse and she's not sure.
He sighs at her silence and kisses her nape. Think about it. I'll see you out.
--
She muses over it for nearly a month. Then Barton and Romanoff come back from the farm looking decidedly more together than they did when they went.
Regret's a bitch, Barton says to Maria by way of explanation. I decided not to wait for it to bite me in the ass.
--
Right, Stark says. So now that that's done, who's for dinner?
Maria doesn't look up from the report she's reviewing on her tablet. If Stark wants to include her, then he'll call her out by name. That's the way he works.
Barton and Romanoff lift their hands in unison.
God, you two are sickening. Bruce?
Banner doesn't quite roll his eyes, but he shrugs in resignation.
Excellent. Thor? Rogers?
Thor assents. Steve hesitates, and Maria knows why.
Tonight was going to be a quiet dinner for them in her quarters at the Tower, during which Maria planned to have a conversation about the boundaries and limits of their relationship, setting out what they were and weren't going to be to each other. Cold-blooded? Sure. But it's the only way she knows to limit what she thinks of as inevitable fallout from openly being in a sexual - possibly even emotional - relationship with Steve Rogers.
Not this time, he says without looking towards Maria.
That might be enough for anyone else, but Stark is cut from a different cloth. What? You can't put it off for a night? You can't possibly be having dinner with anyone--
Maria turns off the tablet and slips it into the sleeve, drawing all eyes to her. She looks to Steve, meeting his gaze straight on. We can do dinner another time if you'd rather go out with the others. I have contacts to make that I've been putting off.
There's a second when everyone stops and looks at her. Maria has a moment to smirk at the sight of the Avengers, poleaxed. Stark's mouth has even fallen open in astonishment.
Steve picks up the thread easily enough, a softly appreciative expression on his face. Are you sure? I was looking forward to it.
We can do it tomorrow. The conversation she wanted to have with him can keep for a day.
He hesitates again, which gives Stark the opportunity to get his voice in order. Wait, is it really dinner, or is 'dinner' a metaphor?
Yes, Maria says at the same time that Steve says, No.
Thor bursts out laughing and Natasha and Barton exchange grins. Banner even cracks a smile.
That's no help, Stark complains. Fine. You're coming to dinner, too, Hill. And while you're there, you're going to spill the details - all of them.
So long as you book the dinner for Pepper without technology, she counters.
His expression falls.
--
You didn't have to out us, you know, Steve says later as they're riding the elevator back up afterwards.
I know. She glances up at him. I'm okay with it. It matters to you.
The elevator stops at her floor, and she steps out. When Steve doesn't step out with her, she turns. He's holding the door back, his expression shadowed by the backlighting of the car and the recessed lights of the elevator lobby. So, still dinner tomorrow?
Maria holds out a hand. I was thinking breakfast.
He steps out, takes her hand, pulls her close.