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TITLE: A Woman Of Edges (2/2)
SUMMARY: "I'm beginning to think you’re the most terrifying woman I’ve met." Learning to like, live with, and love Maria Hill.
RATING: G
CATEGORY: Action, Drama, Friendship, Developing Romance, Women Being Awesome, Non-Romantic Romance.
WORD COUNT: ~12,700
WARNINGS: (highlight to see) None
DISCLAIMER: Not mine, making no money, etc.
Part 1
A Woman Of Edges: Part 2
"So," Pepper says as the car pulls away from the kerb, heading into the midst of New York traffic. "Tony says you named a virus protocol after me."
"Not exactly. 'Virginia Potts' is a takeover protocol to be enacted if the situation becomes dire. We thought it appropriate."
Maria smiles briefly at the woman who took over Stark Enterprises and runs it with all the poise and composure with which she once ran Tony Stark's life. Pepper's smile flirts at the corner of her mouth as she notes, "And an opportunity to annoy Tony?"
"It may have factored into the choice of name."
Fury still hasn't forgiven Stark for the system intrusion during the Loki situation. He was furious at the breach; Maria looked at it as an opportunity to improve their security protocols on the helicarrier. If anything changes in the vicinity of Stark or a representative from Stark Enterprises – or, really, any external visitor – then alarms start beeping in a quiet little room deep in the substructure of the helicarrier.
It was their first indication that something was wrong when Gittes and his colleagues first came on board. Which means that, in a way, Stark actually helped them by hacking into SHIELD.
Not that Maria plans to send him flowers anytime soon. She and Stark are not exactly a club of mutual admiration.
She figures she should be glad that he hasn't found out about her and Steve. Not that there is anything between her and Steve. They're colleagues. Friends. The fact that he kissed her isn't part of the equation, doesn't have to be.
It could be, though.
He kissed surprisingly well for a guy who, reputedly, hasn't done all that much of it. Brief and soft – more of a nip at her mouth than an actual kiss as she turned to ask if he'd let her ride them home. Unexpected, yes, and sweet – warm lips against her, a warm hand curving around the back of her neck for that moment.
Then he'd pulled back, the blush on his cheeks quite visible, even in the fading light of dusk.
"Think about it," he'd said before he put the helmet on leaving her with confusion on her face, and a pit in her belly. And of course she did – all the way back to Avengers Tower with the big, heavy warmth of him pressed up against her in the fast-cooling evening.
But it's more than just hormones. Physical desire is easy - Maria's never been ruled by her glands, even as a teenager. Caring about him, wanting to see that light in his eyes when he's done what he thinks is right - that's more difficult.
And then there's who they are.
He's not just Steve Rogers; he's Captain America of the Avengers.
If things go bad - and there's always the possibility they will - between SHIELD and the Avengers, then Maria will be on one side, and he'll be on the other, and she knows exactly how public and private sympathy will fall.
It squeezes her, this conflict of possibilities: the hope of what could be and the risk of what might be.
"Well," Pepper says, unaware of the direction of Maria's thoughts, "I'm honoured to be thought dangerous enough to have SHIELD name a takeover protocol after me."
She says it with a certain amount of emphasis, and Maria arches a brow at her, relieved to leave her thoughts behind. "Stark's still annoyed we didn't name it after him?"
"I told him he can't have everything named after him, even after the Chitauri invasion. Besides, a little letdown does his ego good."
"And the gloating is fun, too?"
"I would never gloat." The smile is prim with just a hint of mischief dancing at the corners.
Maria's mouth twitches. She likes Pepper. Although the woman tends to panic when Stark's in trouble, she's level headed and a cool thinker otherwise. And people are allowed to have their Achilles heel; it's not inexplicable that Tony Stark in danger would be Pepper Potts' weakness.
At least Steve isn't hers. Not yet; hopefully not ever.
Exasperated at how her thoughts have circled around, Maria peers at the traffic ahead of them. "I'm a little surprised I got an invite to the Stark Industries fundraiser."
"You're the Avengers liaison," Pepper says, relaxed as only someone intimately familiar with the traffic patterns of a dozen cities can be. "And with all the Avengers along - to say nothing of the Stark Enterprises board of directors - I need someone sane to help ride herd."
"I fit your definition of sane?"
"I live with Tony." Pepper points out. "Sanity is relative. I can trust you won't get drunk and end up dancing naked on the tables."
Maria quirks a brow at the redhead, amused. "You're sure of that?"
"Well, we couldn't find any half-naked pictures of you on the internet, so that's a point in your favour for me."
"And a point against me for Stark?"
A smile tilts up one corner of her mouth. "You know, it was Tony who put you on the guest list. I didn't have to say a thing."
That surprises Maria more than a little.
"He likes you, you know. He wouldn't argue with you so much if he didn't. He'd either shut you down straight off, or undermine your authority."
"Arguing isn't undermining my authority?" Maria asks wryly.
"Not to Tony." Pepper laughs a little. "If he's arguing with you, he's engaging with you - he thinks you're worth his time and effort."
"That's..." Maria bites back what she was going to say because it's starting to make a certain amount of sense. She settles for finishing with "...complicated."
"He's a complicated man. Now, Steve, on the other hand..."
When the conversation trails off expectantly, Maria glances over, already knowing what she'll see on the other woman's face: the frank query of a woman who's taken personal interest in Steve Rogers' life and either knows or suspects that Maria's contemplating getting involved.
It would have happened sooner or later, she supposes. At least it's Potts and not Stark. "I suppose it was the cameras in Avengers Tower?"
"Actually, Steve asked me for advice about modern relationships. He talked about it in general terms, but I can read between the lines. He's a good man - and not just because he's a hero."
Maria knows. "Are you encouraging me, or warning me away?"
"That depends," Pepper says, conversational and easy, "on whether you care about him or not."
I didn't know you cared, Lieutenant.
"It's not that simple." Maria begins, then halts as Pepper tilts her head to one side.
"Sometimes it is."
And Maria suddenly remembers that this is the woman who went from being Tony Stark's personal assistant, to the CEO of his company, to his fiancee.
-oOo-
Back in his days with the USO, Steve got accustomed to shaking everyone's hand. Back then, he did it in the hope of someday getting out to the frontline. Seventy years on, and he's still shaking hands like a trained monkey in a suit. Only he is the frontline now - Earth's Mightiest Heroes, as declares the banner hanging up the end of the hall - so he's not sure why he's doing it this time.
On the plus side, this suit isn't blue and stretchy.
"Isn't this a great party?" Tony asks in a break between handshaking, during which he crooks a finger and a waitress hurries along with drinks for them.
Steve gives him a look "Didn't you organise this?"
"Uh, actually, Pepper organised all this. I just turned up."
"He comes, he eats the food, he shakes hands, he leaves a mess for me to clean up," Pepper says.
"I never said I was housebroken." Tony smiles charmingly at the pretty waitress. He takes a drink of champagne and turns to Pepper. "Luckily for you, I'm no longer your mess to clean up. Although I haven't seen The Pill around tonight, so maybe you're still on clean-up duty."
"Tony."
"Stark."
"I haven't felt the touch of ice in the room yet," Tony continues on, blithe and insouciant. "Maybe she decided not to come?"
"She accepted the invite." Pepper slants a look up at Steve. "She'll be here."
He shouldn't be surprised Pepper knows about Maria.
They haven't spoken since the kiss. Not privately, anyway. He's been doing a course of long-promised training with the Rangers, bringing his skills up to par in the modern military, and while she turned up to observe the training, she didn't stay for dinner in the mess.
Think about it, he said. And she'd stared at him with startled eyes, like she'd never even thought of him that way. Maybe she hadn't.
"Ah, Rhodey's decided to grace us with his presence, even if he couldn't leave the uniform behind. And who's that he's got with hi-- Good God!"
Steve glances in the direction of Colonel Rhodes - distinctive in his dress blues, and speaking with a dark-haired woman in a sky blue dress that looks like it's been tied on at the shoulder and wetted down to cling to her figure.
A moment later, Tony's realisation smacks Steve in the face. The woman in sky blue is Maria.
"Oh good," Pepper says. "She used the stylist I recommended."
"You helped perpetrate this?"
"It's a fundraising dinner, Tony." Pepper rolls her eyes. "To which you insisted I invite Lieutenant Hill."
Steve isn't sure whether he wants to shake the stylist's hand, or punch him - her? - in the face. He knows he can't do anything to Pepper, although he'd really like to shake her for, yes, perpetrating this, as Tony put it. Sure, Maria's dress is no worse than most of the dresses he's seen here tonight, and in fact is considerably better than some of the bits of fluff the women are wandering around in...
Only it's Maria. Looking more than just beautiful, because she's always been beautiful - looking noticeable.
And Steve's no longer the only one noticing.
"You know, I had no idea she had it in her. Rhodey's nearly salivating."
Pepper rolls her eyes. "No, he's not," she says, more to Steve than to Tony. "He's being polite."
Maybe he is, but Steve would prefer Colonel Rhodes be polite somewhere else, to some other woman. It may be an irrational reaction, but it's his irrational reaction.
"With his tongue hanging out of his head." Tony sounds like all his birthdays have come at once. "Can we go over and tease him about it?"
"No, because Sophia O'Dell is waving at us, and if you don't go and speak with her, I'll never hear the end of it."
"I can live with that."
"Yes, but you have to live with me."
"Good point. We're going," Tony speaks as though the whole conversation hasn't just taken place in front of Steve. "Try not to drown in women. Oh wait, I forgot who I was talking to. I recommend the brunette with the choker."
"Tony," Pepper makes apologetic faces at Steve, who smiles a reassurance at her as they drift away. He doesn't get more than a moment to glance back across the room to where the Colonel is introducing Maria to another man with the look of career military about him, before a silver-haired gentleman sweeps in with his wife and his daughter and Steve finds himself on the hand-shaking rounds again.
It's Bruce who comes to his rescue; looking decidedly uncomfortable in his suit, and making people look just as uncomfortable when he enters the conversation. The crowds melt away like snow under the spring sun, and Bruce give Steve a gently sardonic smile that says he knows exactly what his presence does, and stepped in for that exact reason. "Want a drink?"
"Yeah." Steve surveys the busy room as they go. On the other side of the dance floor, Maria's in conversation with some older women now, their staid and saturated colours setting off the bright blue of her dress, and the silver swing of her earrings.
At that moment, Maria glances his way and their gazes clash.
His shirt is suddenly too tight, and his collar is suddenly too hot. She stares at him for a moment, her eyes crystal clear as though she stood in front of him, before her attention is captured by a comment by one of the older women - surprise and embarrassment on her cheeks. The burst of laughter from that corner brings a flush to Steve's cheeks, and he's only too glad to be given a glass of Heineken and the chance to breathe.
Not that he gets much breathing time. Bruce is served almost immediately, and leans back against the bar, ignoring the wary looks of the bar waitstaff. "The Lieutenant seems to be making a splash."
Great. Another man who's noticed. "Is that what they call it these days?"
"Green's not your colour, Steve."
The gentle observation pricks. Steve bites back the natural snap, and thinks that, once again, he's hanging around Tony too much. Bruce is a good man, with a kindness to him that Steve would never betray. He's just trying to help. Still, Steve can't help asking, "Was there an announcement in Avengers Tower?"
"No." The scientist's voice is wry. "But give us credit for having eyes."
"Tony hasn't noticed."
"Tony doesn't notice everything," Bruce says after a moment. "And even when he does, he doesn't always understand it."
"She's...different."
"She's not afraid of the other guy." It's still a source of amazement to Bruce that not everyone is terrified by the other guy. And Maria, having come to terms with her eventual death, wouldn't shy from Bruce. "I don't think she ever has been. Wary, perhaps - but she's wary of all of us - of what we can do."
"Even me."
"Especially you." Dark eyes rest on Steve with quiet clarity. "The Avengers could destroy the country if we set our minds to it. You could destroy her."
"I would never--" But Steve stops in the middle of that protest, remembering.
There'd been slurs against Peggy back in the days of the SRS, and all Steve had ever done was carry her picture around in his compass. The Howling Commandos had quickly defended Peggy's honour, and after a while, anyone saying such things was either not saying them, or saying them very quietly somewhere else. And that had been back in 1942, where a woman could still use respectability as a shield.
In the modern world of Twitter and Facebook? Where a person could become popular overnight and become a pariah just as fast? The first hint of disagreement between them and the world wouldn't just be calling Maria names, they'd be crucifying her.
It's a bitter realisation. Steve puts his drink down on the bar, turning away from the room and what he now begins to see was too high a price to ask of Maria for nothing more than a relationship with him.
And the irony of it all?
He's attracted to Maria because of her edges - the marked lines of her personality, crystal-clear in her choices and decisions, in her determination to do right by the people whom she thinks need protection, even when that sets her up against Fury, public opinion, the Avengers, or Steve.
It's those same edges that will keep them apart: her need to be herself, and seen as herself, and trusted as herself.
And Steve can't blame her for it, even though it hurts.
"You haven't danced tonight, Dr. Banner." Her voice, cool and crisp, runs down his spine like a blade.
Steve turns as Bruce gives a short, amused laugh. "I don't dance, Lieutenant. I've got two left feet."
She looked stunning from a distance; up close, she's exquisite. Yet the dress and the jewellery and the makeup don't change who she is at her core; a soldier, a fighter, a sister and daughter, a friend. And the trappings don't change who she is to Steve, either - a woman he loves but can't have. Steve feels his heart squeeze even before her eyes come to rest briefly on his face.
He catches the edges of the smile she quirks at Bruce. "And two right ones, too?"
Bruce doesn't flinch at the reference to the Hulk, half-smiling as he answers, "I'd hate to be responsible for your toes, Lieutenant. You'd have better luck with Steve."
"Only if you want to," Steve says immediately. The last thing he wants is for Maria to feel she's been pushed into this, however well-meaning Bruce might be.
"If I didn't want to, I wouldn't."
"So, is that a yes or a no?"
"I didn't realise we were asking."
"Would you like to dance, Lieutenant?"
"If Dr. Banner doesn't mind being deserted."
Bruce smiles. "I'll relinquish Steve to your care, if you promise to take good care of him."
Maria looks at Steve, steady and unflinching. "I can do that."
-oOo-
A few heads turn as Steve leads her out to the dance floor. Maria doesn't let it bother her.
But she wishes his touch wasn't so warm, or so careful as he closes one hand over hers, and slides the other around her waist. She wishes his shoulders weren't so broad, and that he wasn't radiating heat like a furnace on a cold winter's night. She wishes she could drown out the persisting belief that this is all a mistake, and one day she'll wake up and discover that these last few months - the diner, the ride, the kiss, this dance - was all a dream.
She wishes she'd decided what she's going to do about him.
Yes, he's a risk, and she's naturally risk averse...except when she isn't. But he's Captain freaking America and she's the liaison for SHIELD. It has 'doom' written all over it, like some Nordic saga complete with Valkyries.
Well, there was the Valkyrie; Steve did lie like the dead before being woken to life. And there's a Norse god sitting on an upholstered chair across the room, holding – yes, there's no other phrase for it – holding court.
Maria recognises she's mentally babbling. You're a SHIELD agent, not a girl with a crush!
"You look beautiful tonight," he says after a few moments when she can feel the heat off his cheek, even though there's at least a few inches of air between their faces. "That is, you always look-- I mean, I'm not the only man noticing-- Tony didn't even recognise you."
It feels better to hear him babbling too. "I feel like a pig in lipstick."
"Well, you look...stunning." His thumb slides along the line of her index finger where her hand rests in his, and she tenses with the caress. So does he, when he feels her stiffen under the hand against her back. "It's a pretty impressive party."
"No-one's going to argue that Stark knows how to throw them. Although they might argue that he doesn't know when to stop." At Steve's querying look, Maria tells him about Stark's birthday party a year ago - the one Natasha monitored, during which things got way out of hand, and Colonel Rhodes requisitioned the Iron Man Mk II prototype. "That was where SHIELD came into the picture."
It's all public record, nothing hush-hush about that, even if the details of SHIELD's involvement aren't something Steve needs to know, nor that they found him in the ice mere days after that.
"Colonel Rhodes has been Tony's friend for years, hasn't he? Do you know him well?"
"Mostly through dealing with Stark. He's been co-operative with SHIELD when we've needed to exchange information." Maria's a little wary of where this is going, only to realise a moment later that this isn't about work at all.
"You seemed...friendly with him, earlier tonight." He lifts his gaze to hers, blue eyes beneath long, dark lashes.
Maria almost laughs. If it was any other man saying this to her about Colonel Rhodes, she might. "You do know he's old enough to be my father?"
"And I'm old enough to be your grandfather."
"That doesn't seem to have stopped you from cradle-snatching." The retort escapes her lips before she can rein it in, and Maria bites down on anything more as her cheeks go pink. "Sorry. That was out of line."
"Do we have to worry about the lines?"
"The lines are written into our job descriptions. Fraternisation policy," she says when he looks a little blank. "Personal relationships in hierarchical structures."
"And I'm asking you to cross those lines." He exhales, a noise halfway between a laugh and a sigh. "It wasn't a fair thing to ask, was it?"
"The rules of fair play do not apply in love and war."
"So which are we?"
"Both?" Maria turns her head to watch as another couple dance by, a little closer than she'd like. There's not much by way of privacy on the floor, but at least the constant movement means the entirety of their conversation won't be overheard. "Things between us...they could go bad very easily."
"You can say no, you know."
"I never thought I couldn't."
"Right. Of course you didn't." He sounds resigned, and it's so strange seeing him like this – yet reassuring, too. If he's the perfect hero, he's also very human: a man with his doubts and his hopes and his fears.
And isn't that what she loves about him?
"Steve--"
"It's okay. I wanted you to think about it and you have."
Maria digs her nails into his shoulder, because otherwise he's not going to understand why she can't let this go any further. "Steve." She waits until he has her attention – full and undivided – and what she was about to say comes out not quite the way she intended to say it. "You terrify me."
As declarations of love go, it's not very good. And Steve stares at her for a stunned moment during which she can hear someone's hoot of laughter across the room and randomly hopes it's not because someone's sneaked a parabolic mike into the room and is training it on them.
His mouth twitches. "It's mutual, you know. You… You're just…scary." Then rushing a little as though she might order him shot him down, he adds, "We could agree to terrify each other."
"I don't think that makes it better."
"It's a risk," he acknowledges, "for you more than for me."
"And we're not the risk taking kind."
"Not the reckless kind. I'm happy to leave that to Stark and Thor, personally. But if we don't take unnecessary risks, we don't always play it safe, either. Or we wouldn't be doing what we're doing."
"Judiciously dangerous." The words escape her lips before she can stop them. And then Maria wants to laugh – at his expression, at their conversation, at herself.
Then a twinkle comes into Steve's eye – a gleam of laughter, bright as day. "I'll be judiciously dangerous if you will."
Her own laughter bubbles up, laced with an aching tenderness; and the truth is that she'd never silence it completely. And she wants this – wants him and his steady, unflinching honesty, his frank uncertainty, and the belief that runs through his veins, as necessary to who he is as blood.
"All right." She meets his gaze, feeling the moment stretch out in challenge. "We'll be judiciously dangerous together, then."
Steve smiles – a slow, easy grin that uncoils desire in her belly and makes her think that this won't be easy, but it'll be good. "Yeah, we will."
-oOo-
The rest of the dance passes in a blur for Steve.
They converse in fits and starts, like waking up briefly before falling back into a dream.
Steve draws her a little closer when someone looks about to bump into them, and doesn't let go once they've passed. Her mouth curves, close enough that he could turn his face and kiss her if he wanted. And he wants to – but not here, in public, with God and New York looking on.
Later, he promises himself, and sees the same restrained desire in her eyes.
When the music ends – too soon! Maria says thanks for the dance and Steve says thanks for putting up with his feet, and it's all politeness on the surface, while tenderness and terror boil beneath their skins.
She's almost smiling as she walks away, crossing the room to speak with someone else, and Steve's almost smiling as she goes – until Natasha comes up beside him, hooking her arm in his.
"Would you like a suggestion?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Try not to look quite so happy."
"I didn't think I was smiling."
"You were about to. Don't."
Steve doesn't ask how Natasha knows that he and Maria want their relationship to be professional in public, but he's grateful for the reality check. And grateful for the decoy. With Natasha on his arm, people turn to look and talk, and there's speculation in their eyes as they chat.
"Natalie, so nice to see you in something that isn't black," Tony announces from behind them. "Should I ask how you got in, or will I find security guards dead in some storage closet?"
"Stark." Steve's protest is at least half-laughing, although Natasha barely bats an eyelash as she regards Stark with mild exasperation.
"And you," Tony claps him on the shoulder. "I see you survived a dance with the iron SHIELD maiden."
"Or she survived one with me."
"True. See, that's what I like about you - you're so modest. And I am so...not."
Steve has a sudden memory of Howard assuring him and Peggy that one of his inventions would work – he made it, after all. It makes him smile.
"Isn't this a great party?" Tony beams around him, slightly bent but - so far as Steve can tell - not yet blind. "I think it's a great party - even if Barton is skulking up in the balconies." He turns to Natasha, "I swear that next time I invite you two, you're required to dress in neon yellow, just so I can keep an eye on you. With stripes. And then you can be the Wasp and he can be Bumblebee!"
Steve exchanges a look with Natasha, who shrugs. "He'll be like this for the next dozen drinks. Then he gets rowdy."
"I object to being spoken of like I'm not here!"
"Are we speaking of him like he's not here?"
"Yes, we are," Natasha answers. "But I think that Pepper wants his attention."
"Pepper always wants my attention," Tony says, turning. "I think she's spent most of the last twelve years trying to get my attention. And mostly failing, although not for lack of trying on her part."
"I can't imagine why." Steve turns Tony towards his fiancee, giving Natasha a rueful glance. "Let's go see Pepper."
Pepper is starting off the 'formal' part of the night - the announcement of the Avenger's Rebuilding Initiative - a fund and committee set up to help rebuild New York neighbourhoods damaged in the Chitauri attack - specifically the less-moneyed neighbourhoods. Community halls, sports centres, and some smaller businesses will be eligible for assistance.
There's a lot of speeches, including one of the state Senators, a director of Stark Enterprises, and the mayor of New York who goes on for nearly ten minutes about heroes and saviours and courage and generosity.
Then it's Steve's turn.
He argued against having to do this. Steve's no good at speeches. He never was, even before the USO. And the USO wasn't speeches so much as a script. Scripts he can do; speeches? No. However, as Pepper pointed out when he protested, the alternative was Tony.
Steve figured he'd give something short and simple. 'Thank you for coming and for your generosity; the Avengers appreciate your contribution.'
The Mayor's speech leaves him feeling like he has something to say.
"Uh... Hi. Thank you all for coming here tonight, and I'd like to thank Mr. Mayor for his kind remarks about the Avengers." Steve pauses, gathering his thoughts. "The banner behind me says Earth's Mightiest Heroes - seems like an overly-grand name for a bunch of people who did what they did because they had to - because they had the ability to fight the Chitauri for those who didn't.
"I can't speak for all my fellow Avengers, but I know that I'm here tonight because I can help people who might not be able to help themselves right now. That's not heroic to me - that's just what people ought to do."
His gaze drifts over the crowd and comes to rest on a sky-blue dress and a faint smile. And Steve thinks of her standing in an Alpine storm, telling him that keeping him out of enemy hands was more important than her life.
"Sometimes heroism isn't doing the great things; sometimes it's just doing the little things because someone else needs you to do it. Winning a war might take strength and strategy, but rebuilding takes courage and persistence. And what we build today might last longer than we imagine." And now that he's got that out, he's got nowhere to go. It's an awkward moment as he searches for an ending that's meaningful and relevant to the evening. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm no good at speeches, but I hope you'll dig deep into your pocketbooks, because this is a good cause, going to good people – real heroes. And the Avengers are proud to be doing this work in partnership with you."
The applause is more than he deserves for what he's starting to think was a pretty limping speech, even if Pepper's smile says it was fine.
Tony is considerably less appreciative when he gets off the stage. "We have to get you speaking lessons before we ever let you near a microphone again," he mutters as Pepper announces that every dollar donated tonight will be matched by one from Stark Industries.
"It sounded fine to me," Barton says, appearing out of nowhere with a couple of bottles of beer and handing one to Steve. "Thought you might need one of these."
"We are never letting you anywhere near a speech," Tony tells Barton. "You'd probably just strangle it in the dark. No, wait, that's Romanoff."
"They don't pay me to do more than look pretty."
"And you hardly manage that anyway. Where's my beer, by the way?"
Barton grins. It's not quite malicious. "I left yours back at the bar. I think Hill's drinking it."
Steve begins to turn, looking for Maria. Barton's hand on his shoulder recalls him back to their surroundings and the people beginning to crowd in around them, having got up the courage to approach them. He doesn't get to do more than take a sip of his beer before they're surrounded by people and conversation, and there's yet another round of handshaking, name-dropping, and even some flirting.
He converses, he's polite, he doesn't quite know what to do with the flirting – it's so obvious these days.
Tony loves it, of course.
Barton makes a getaway that can only be described as cowardly, leaving Steve to deal with Tony– at least until Thor comes over.
"Oh good." Tony's still in the voluble stage of his drinking. "Fresh blood."
"This party is hardly comparable to bloodshed," Thor observes before shaking Steve's hand. "An excellent speech, Steve Rogers. Warriors fight and are duly glorified, but it is in the aftermath of battle that a man's true mettle is shown."
Tony frowns. "That sounds like something from a book of inspirational quotes."
"It is a saying of my father's. I do not believe he has ever put them down in runes."
"Well, it sounded much better when you said it," Steve observes with a wry smile. "Next time, you can give the speech."
"No, I would not deprive you of the pleasure – or the pain – by any means." Thor laughs. "I fear my style of oratory is not suited to the people of your planet. A little too high-fluting, I believe."
Since Thor is anything but fluting, his words earn him some very blank stares. "That's...probably 'high-falutin'," Steve says after a moment.
"But I have the meaning correct?"
"Yeah, I'd say you have the meaning down pat," says Steve.
"Good. Jane believes that what is said is less important than that one is understood, and I'm growing accustomed to your idiom." Thor looks a little beyond Steve. "Lady Hill."
Steve turns in time to catch Maria's twitch of the lips. "Lieutenant will do fine, thank you, Thor."
"What, you don't want us to call you 'Miss Lieutenant Major, sir'?" Tony jokes. "You're looking surprisingly elegant tonight, Hill. I didn't even recognise you without your gun."
"It's understandable, Stark. Visual acuity tends to decrease after forty-five." Maria meets Steve's eye for a moment, and he sees the glint of rueful laughter there. "I came to say thank you for inviting me to the party."
"You're leaving? So soon?" Thor frowns faintly, saying what Steve wants to before Steve has to. "The night is yet young."
"And I have work in the morning." It's a calm statement of a fact – no complaining or recriminations. "Commander Fury allowed me the afternoon off, but I'm due back on the helicarrier at 9am tomorrow."
"No rest for the wicked."
"Or for the responsible," comes the wry and pointed reply. "But I'm not sure you know so much about that, Stark. Gentlemen, enjoy yourselves. Try not to raise hell. Do not do anything that will require SHIELD's intervention. I'll see you when I see you."
Her eyes rest on Steve as she says that last, and while he'd like to follow her, he resists. There's a time and a place and this isn't it. But it takes some reminding, all the same.
The next hours seem endless.
It's nearly midnight when he manages to extract himself from the party. Tony's firmly sozzled by now, but nobody seems to mind. "Classic Stark," Natasha tells him as Tony laughs a little too loudly and slaps the New York Senator on the back. "This is actually quite restrained for him. He's gotten much better since he and Pepper got together." She smiles at him, a little kindly. "Do you want an exit?"
"I'm wishing I'd left with Maria two hours ago."
"I'll call you a limo," Natasha says, heading for one of the doors that lead out of the room.
"I'm able to do that myself, you know."
She doesn't miss a step. "Of course you are."
Steve shakes his head, and goes to tell Pepper that he's leaving and that it was a lovely party. She looks tired, but pleased, and although many of the guests have wilted, she manages to maintain that air of classy elegance that wouldn't have put her out of place back in Steve's time.
"I hope it wasn't too tiresome for you," she says, smiling and nodding at a couple who are just on their way out. "I was hoping Lieutenant Hill could stay longer, but..."
"Work. Duty. Responsibility. I know how it goes."
"Do you need me to call one of the limos?"
"No, Natasha's already doing that." Steve grimaces. "I think she's managing me."
"It's a sign of affection." Pepper kisses him on the cheek and looks towards the entranceway where Natasha is making her way down the stairs to the ballroom floor, her fiery hair an unmistakeable beacon. "There's your call. Thank you for coming, Steve."
Natasha waits for him at the foot of the stairs. "You're good to go."
Steve leans over and presses a kiss against the pale temple, ignoring the buzz of speculation around them. When he draws back, she's staring at him.
"Do I want to know?"
He grins then. "Probably not."
The promised limo is waiting in the hotel drive, and the doorman opens it up with a tip of his cap. "Sir."
Steve starts to get in, then pauses as paper rustles. Inside the limousine, the downlights throw sharp shadows over Maria and the files she's picking up off the seats so he can sit down beside her.
"Whatever happened to a nine o'clock start?"
"I called Fury and switched shifts."
"And didn't come back in?"
"I thought I'd get some paperwork done."
He settles in beside her, closing one hand over hers. "You terrify me."
And her mouth curves - that bright brilliant grin that punches him in the chest. "I know."
Maria leans in then, and Steve meets her halfway, and there's an avoidance of noses and bumped teeth and a breath of laughter before their mouths meet.
He's been wanting this all night – the taste of her mouth, the shape of her lips under his – and if the way she leans into the kiss is any indication, she's been wanting this, too. Maria meets him without shyness, without hesitation, without shame – she knows what she wants and Steve's heart pounds at the thought that it's him.
Now that they have time, they take it, savouring the touch and the privacy, the tenderness and the uncertainty. No rush, no haste, no world to save, no cameras to avoid, just her hands on his thigh and shoulder and his hand in the small of her back and the nape of her neck…
Steve lets himself drown in the rightness of it. A woman of edges, yes, but not unyielding and not hard. She's what she needs to be, and he can respect that and admire that, love it, deplore it, and be terrified by it. Doubtless he will in the coming months. Doubtless, sooner or later, they'll find themselves on opposite sides of the fence.
When they do, they'll deal with it.
But in the meantime, he'll savour every moment with this unique, unexpected woman.
When Maria draws away, he follows instinctively, but her expression is puzzled. "We're not moving."
Dim murmurs outside turn to voices as the limousine door opens, and Tony declares, "Of course he won't mind sharing; it's not like he's got a-- Good god!"
Tony looks like Thor just smacked him across the back of the head, and Thor and Dr. Foster are trying to hide their grins – Dr. Foster less successfully than Thor.
"Hello, Stark, Thor, Dr. Foster." Maria leans against Steve - sprawls, as a matter of fact, like Jean Harlow in a pin-up poster. "Please shut the door. We're busy."
"Ah, Captain. We apologise for interrupting," Thor says, not quite solemn. "May your evening be full of delight."
Tony's jaw shuts with an audible click of teeth. "We," he says to Steve, "are going to have a talk about this."
But he shuts the door on Dr. Foster's laughing comment of, "It's not like we can't just fly home--"
The limousine moves off then, sliding out into the midnight streets of the city. Steve glances at Maria, who looks exasperated. "I guess that cat's out of the bag." Then, because Tony could make things awkward, he asks, "Do you mind?"
The silence gives him pause. Then Maria smiles. "Kiss me again and I'll think about it."
Steve does as ordered.
"People "with edges" take up space.
They give us a reason to talk, to wonder, to think.
People with edges can alter their surroundings,
as opposed to having their surroundings alter them."
~ joseph riley land ~
- fin –
END NOTES: I know that in the comics, Maria and Steve more often end up on opposite sides of the table; however in the comics, Maria was also recruited specifically because she didn't follow Nick Fury. And Steve and Fury were pretty tight as leader of SHIELD and leader of the Avengers. Oh, and Nick Fury was white.
Considering Maria is pretty much Nick's 2IC in the cinematic universe, Steve thinks Nick has blood on his hands, and Maria gave Steve the once-over when he first came onto the helicarrier bridge, to say nothing of the fact that Nick Fury is played by Samuel L Jackson...I figure I have some leeway.
SUMMARY: "I'm beginning to think you’re the most terrifying woman I’ve met." Learning to like, live with, and love Maria Hill.
RATING: G
CATEGORY: Action, Drama, Friendship, Developing Romance, Women Being Awesome, Non-Romantic Romance.
WORD COUNT: ~12,700
WARNINGS: (highlight to see) None
DISCLAIMER: Not mine, making no money, etc.
Part 1
"So," Pepper says as the car pulls away from the kerb, heading into the midst of New York traffic. "Tony says you named a virus protocol after me."
"Not exactly. 'Virginia Potts' is a takeover protocol to be enacted if the situation becomes dire. We thought it appropriate."
Maria smiles briefly at the woman who took over Stark Enterprises and runs it with all the poise and composure with which she once ran Tony Stark's life. Pepper's smile flirts at the corner of her mouth as she notes, "And an opportunity to annoy Tony?"
"It may have factored into the choice of name."
Fury still hasn't forgiven Stark for the system intrusion during the Loki situation. He was furious at the breach; Maria looked at it as an opportunity to improve their security protocols on the helicarrier. If anything changes in the vicinity of Stark or a representative from Stark Enterprises – or, really, any external visitor – then alarms start beeping in a quiet little room deep in the substructure of the helicarrier.
It was their first indication that something was wrong when Gittes and his colleagues first came on board. Which means that, in a way, Stark actually helped them by hacking into SHIELD.
Not that Maria plans to send him flowers anytime soon. She and Stark are not exactly a club of mutual admiration.
She figures she should be glad that he hasn't found out about her and Steve. Not that there is anything between her and Steve. They're colleagues. Friends. The fact that he kissed her isn't part of the equation, doesn't have to be.
It could be, though.
He kissed surprisingly well for a guy who, reputedly, hasn't done all that much of it. Brief and soft – more of a nip at her mouth than an actual kiss as she turned to ask if he'd let her ride them home. Unexpected, yes, and sweet – warm lips against her, a warm hand curving around the back of her neck for that moment.
Then he'd pulled back, the blush on his cheeks quite visible, even in the fading light of dusk.
"Think about it," he'd said before he put the helmet on leaving her with confusion on her face, and a pit in her belly. And of course she did – all the way back to Avengers Tower with the big, heavy warmth of him pressed up against her in the fast-cooling evening.
But it's more than just hormones. Physical desire is easy - Maria's never been ruled by her glands, even as a teenager. Caring about him, wanting to see that light in his eyes when he's done what he thinks is right - that's more difficult.
And then there's who they are.
He's not just Steve Rogers; he's Captain America of the Avengers.
If things go bad - and there's always the possibility they will - between SHIELD and the Avengers, then Maria will be on one side, and he'll be on the other, and she knows exactly how public and private sympathy will fall.
It squeezes her, this conflict of possibilities: the hope of what could be and the risk of what might be.
"Well," Pepper says, unaware of the direction of Maria's thoughts, "I'm honoured to be thought dangerous enough to have SHIELD name a takeover protocol after me."
She says it with a certain amount of emphasis, and Maria arches a brow at her, relieved to leave her thoughts behind. "Stark's still annoyed we didn't name it after him?"
"I told him he can't have everything named after him, even after the Chitauri invasion. Besides, a little letdown does his ego good."
"And the gloating is fun, too?"
"I would never gloat." The smile is prim with just a hint of mischief dancing at the corners.
Maria's mouth twitches. She likes Pepper. Although the woman tends to panic when Stark's in trouble, she's level headed and a cool thinker otherwise. And people are allowed to have their Achilles heel; it's not inexplicable that Tony Stark in danger would be Pepper Potts' weakness.
At least Steve isn't hers. Not yet; hopefully not ever.
Exasperated at how her thoughts have circled around, Maria peers at the traffic ahead of them. "I'm a little surprised I got an invite to the Stark Industries fundraiser."
"You're the Avengers liaison," Pepper says, relaxed as only someone intimately familiar with the traffic patterns of a dozen cities can be. "And with all the Avengers along - to say nothing of the Stark Enterprises board of directors - I need someone sane to help ride herd."
"I fit your definition of sane?"
"I live with Tony." Pepper points out. "Sanity is relative. I can trust you won't get drunk and end up dancing naked on the tables."
Maria quirks a brow at the redhead, amused. "You're sure of that?"
"Well, we couldn't find any half-naked pictures of you on the internet, so that's a point in your favour for me."
"And a point against me for Stark?"
A smile tilts up one corner of her mouth. "You know, it was Tony who put you on the guest list. I didn't have to say a thing."
That surprises Maria more than a little.
"He likes you, you know. He wouldn't argue with you so much if he didn't. He'd either shut you down straight off, or undermine your authority."
"Arguing isn't undermining my authority?" Maria asks wryly.
"Not to Tony." Pepper laughs a little. "If he's arguing with you, he's engaging with you - he thinks you're worth his time and effort."
"That's..." Maria bites back what she was going to say because it's starting to make a certain amount of sense. She settles for finishing with "...complicated."
"He's a complicated man. Now, Steve, on the other hand..."
When the conversation trails off expectantly, Maria glances over, already knowing what she'll see on the other woman's face: the frank query of a woman who's taken personal interest in Steve Rogers' life and either knows or suspects that Maria's contemplating getting involved.
It would have happened sooner or later, she supposes. At least it's Potts and not Stark. "I suppose it was the cameras in Avengers Tower?"
"Actually, Steve asked me for advice about modern relationships. He talked about it in general terms, but I can read between the lines. He's a good man - and not just because he's a hero."
Maria knows. "Are you encouraging me, or warning me away?"
"That depends," Pepper says, conversational and easy, "on whether you care about him or not."
I didn't know you cared, Lieutenant.
"It's not that simple." Maria begins, then halts as Pepper tilts her head to one side.
"Sometimes it is."
And Maria suddenly remembers that this is the woman who went from being Tony Stark's personal assistant, to the CEO of his company, to his fiancee.
Back in his days with the USO, Steve got accustomed to shaking everyone's hand. Back then, he did it in the hope of someday getting out to the frontline. Seventy years on, and he's still shaking hands like a trained monkey in a suit. Only he is the frontline now - Earth's Mightiest Heroes, as declares the banner hanging up the end of the hall - so he's not sure why he's doing it this time.
On the plus side, this suit isn't blue and stretchy.
"Isn't this a great party?" Tony asks in a break between handshaking, during which he crooks a finger and a waitress hurries along with drinks for them.
Steve gives him a look "Didn't you organise this?"
"Uh, actually, Pepper organised all this. I just turned up."
"He comes, he eats the food, he shakes hands, he leaves a mess for me to clean up," Pepper says.
"I never said I was housebroken." Tony smiles charmingly at the pretty waitress. He takes a drink of champagne and turns to Pepper. "Luckily for you, I'm no longer your mess to clean up. Although I haven't seen The Pill around tonight, so maybe you're still on clean-up duty."
"Tony."
"Stark."
"I haven't felt the touch of ice in the room yet," Tony continues on, blithe and insouciant. "Maybe she decided not to come?"
"She accepted the invite." Pepper slants a look up at Steve. "She'll be here."
He shouldn't be surprised Pepper knows about Maria.
They haven't spoken since the kiss. Not privately, anyway. He's been doing a course of long-promised training with the Rangers, bringing his skills up to par in the modern military, and while she turned up to observe the training, she didn't stay for dinner in the mess.
Think about it, he said. And she'd stared at him with startled eyes, like she'd never even thought of him that way. Maybe she hadn't.
"Ah, Rhodey's decided to grace us with his presence, even if he couldn't leave the uniform behind. And who's that he's got with hi-- Good God!"
Steve glances in the direction of Colonel Rhodes - distinctive in his dress blues, and speaking with a dark-haired woman in a sky blue dress that looks like it's been tied on at the shoulder and wetted down to cling to her figure.
A moment later, Tony's realisation smacks Steve in the face. The woman in sky blue is Maria.
"Oh good," Pepper says. "She used the stylist I recommended."
"You helped perpetrate this?"
"It's a fundraising dinner, Tony." Pepper rolls her eyes. "To which you insisted I invite Lieutenant Hill."
Steve isn't sure whether he wants to shake the stylist's hand, or punch him - her? - in the face. He knows he can't do anything to Pepper, although he'd really like to shake her for, yes, perpetrating this, as Tony put it. Sure, Maria's dress is no worse than most of the dresses he's seen here tonight, and in fact is considerably better than some of the bits of fluff the women are wandering around in...
Only it's Maria. Looking more than just beautiful, because she's always been beautiful - looking noticeable.
And Steve's no longer the only one noticing.
"You know, I had no idea she had it in her. Rhodey's nearly salivating."
Pepper rolls her eyes. "No, he's not," she says, more to Steve than to Tony. "He's being polite."
Maybe he is, but Steve would prefer Colonel Rhodes be polite somewhere else, to some other woman. It may be an irrational reaction, but it's his irrational reaction.
"With his tongue hanging out of his head." Tony sounds like all his birthdays have come at once. "Can we go over and tease him about it?"
"No, because Sophia O'Dell is waving at us, and if you don't go and speak with her, I'll never hear the end of it."
"I can live with that."
"Yes, but you have to live with me."
"Good point. We're going," Tony speaks as though the whole conversation hasn't just taken place in front of Steve. "Try not to drown in women. Oh wait, I forgot who I was talking to. I recommend the brunette with the choker."
"Tony," Pepper makes apologetic faces at Steve, who smiles a reassurance at her as they drift away. He doesn't get more than a moment to glance back across the room to where the Colonel is introducing Maria to another man with the look of career military about him, before a silver-haired gentleman sweeps in with his wife and his daughter and Steve finds himself on the hand-shaking rounds again.
It's Bruce who comes to his rescue; looking decidedly uncomfortable in his suit, and making people look just as uncomfortable when he enters the conversation. The crowds melt away like snow under the spring sun, and Bruce give Steve a gently sardonic smile that says he knows exactly what his presence does, and stepped in for that exact reason. "Want a drink?"
"Yeah." Steve surveys the busy room as they go. On the other side of the dance floor, Maria's in conversation with some older women now, their staid and saturated colours setting off the bright blue of her dress, and the silver swing of her earrings.
At that moment, Maria glances his way and their gazes clash.
His shirt is suddenly too tight, and his collar is suddenly too hot. She stares at him for a moment, her eyes crystal clear as though she stood in front of him, before her attention is captured by a comment by one of the older women - surprise and embarrassment on her cheeks. The burst of laughter from that corner brings a flush to Steve's cheeks, and he's only too glad to be given a glass of Heineken and the chance to breathe.
Not that he gets much breathing time. Bruce is served almost immediately, and leans back against the bar, ignoring the wary looks of the bar waitstaff. "The Lieutenant seems to be making a splash."
Great. Another man who's noticed. "Is that what they call it these days?"
"Green's not your colour, Steve."
The gentle observation pricks. Steve bites back the natural snap, and thinks that, once again, he's hanging around Tony too much. Bruce is a good man, with a kindness to him that Steve would never betray. He's just trying to help. Still, Steve can't help asking, "Was there an announcement in Avengers Tower?"
"No." The scientist's voice is wry. "But give us credit for having eyes."
"Tony hasn't noticed."
"Tony doesn't notice everything," Bruce says after a moment. "And even when he does, he doesn't always understand it."
"She's...different."
"She's not afraid of the other guy." It's still a source of amazement to Bruce that not everyone is terrified by the other guy. And Maria, having come to terms with her eventual death, wouldn't shy from Bruce. "I don't think she ever has been. Wary, perhaps - but she's wary of all of us - of what we can do."
"Even me."
"Especially you." Dark eyes rest on Steve with quiet clarity. "The Avengers could destroy the country if we set our minds to it. You could destroy her."
"I would never--" But Steve stops in the middle of that protest, remembering.
There'd been slurs against Peggy back in the days of the SRS, and all Steve had ever done was carry her picture around in his compass. The Howling Commandos had quickly defended Peggy's honour, and after a while, anyone saying such things was either not saying them, or saying them very quietly somewhere else. And that had been back in 1942, where a woman could still use respectability as a shield.
In the modern world of Twitter and Facebook? Where a person could become popular overnight and become a pariah just as fast? The first hint of disagreement between them and the world wouldn't just be calling Maria names, they'd be crucifying her.
It's a bitter realisation. Steve puts his drink down on the bar, turning away from the room and what he now begins to see was too high a price to ask of Maria for nothing more than a relationship with him.
And the irony of it all?
He's attracted to Maria because of her edges - the marked lines of her personality, crystal-clear in her choices and decisions, in her determination to do right by the people whom she thinks need protection, even when that sets her up against Fury, public opinion, the Avengers, or Steve.
It's those same edges that will keep them apart: her need to be herself, and seen as herself, and trusted as herself.
And Steve can't blame her for it, even though it hurts.
"You haven't danced tonight, Dr. Banner." Her voice, cool and crisp, runs down his spine like a blade.
Steve turns as Bruce gives a short, amused laugh. "I don't dance, Lieutenant. I've got two left feet."
She looked stunning from a distance; up close, she's exquisite. Yet the dress and the jewellery and the makeup don't change who she is at her core; a soldier, a fighter, a sister and daughter, a friend. And the trappings don't change who she is to Steve, either - a woman he loves but can't have. Steve feels his heart squeeze even before her eyes come to rest briefly on his face.
He catches the edges of the smile she quirks at Bruce. "And two right ones, too?"
Bruce doesn't flinch at the reference to the Hulk, half-smiling as he answers, "I'd hate to be responsible for your toes, Lieutenant. You'd have better luck with Steve."
"Only if you want to," Steve says immediately. The last thing he wants is for Maria to feel she's been pushed into this, however well-meaning Bruce might be.
"If I didn't want to, I wouldn't."
"So, is that a yes or a no?"
"I didn't realise we were asking."
"Would you like to dance, Lieutenant?"
"If Dr. Banner doesn't mind being deserted."
Bruce smiles. "I'll relinquish Steve to your care, if you promise to take good care of him."
Maria looks at Steve, steady and unflinching. "I can do that."
A few heads turn as Steve leads her out to the dance floor. Maria doesn't let it bother her.
But she wishes his touch wasn't so warm, or so careful as he closes one hand over hers, and slides the other around her waist. She wishes his shoulders weren't so broad, and that he wasn't radiating heat like a furnace on a cold winter's night. She wishes she could drown out the persisting belief that this is all a mistake, and one day she'll wake up and discover that these last few months - the diner, the ride, the kiss, this dance - was all a dream.
She wishes she'd decided what she's going to do about him.
Yes, he's a risk, and she's naturally risk averse...except when she isn't. But he's Captain freaking America and she's the liaison for SHIELD. It has 'doom' written all over it, like some Nordic saga complete with Valkyries.
Well, there was the Valkyrie; Steve did lie like the dead before being woken to life. And there's a Norse god sitting on an upholstered chair across the room, holding – yes, there's no other phrase for it – holding court.
Maria recognises she's mentally babbling. You're a SHIELD agent, not a girl with a crush!
"You look beautiful tonight," he says after a few moments when she can feel the heat off his cheek, even though there's at least a few inches of air between their faces. "That is, you always look-- I mean, I'm not the only man noticing-- Tony didn't even recognise you."
It feels better to hear him babbling too. "I feel like a pig in lipstick."
"Well, you look...stunning." His thumb slides along the line of her index finger where her hand rests in his, and she tenses with the caress. So does he, when he feels her stiffen under the hand against her back. "It's a pretty impressive party."
"No-one's going to argue that Stark knows how to throw them. Although they might argue that he doesn't know when to stop." At Steve's querying look, Maria tells him about Stark's birthday party a year ago - the one Natasha monitored, during which things got way out of hand, and Colonel Rhodes requisitioned the Iron Man Mk II prototype. "That was where SHIELD came into the picture."
It's all public record, nothing hush-hush about that, even if the details of SHIELD's involvement aren't something Steve needs to know, nor that they found him in the ice mere days after that.
"Colonel Rhodes has been Tony's friend for years, hasn't he? Do you know him well?"
"Mostly through dealing with Stark. He's been co-operative with SHIELD when we've needed to exchange information." Maria's a little wary of where this is going, only to realise a moment later that this isn't about work at all.
"You seemed...friendly with him, earlier tonight." He lifts his gaze to hers, blue eyes beneath long, dark lashes.
Maria almost laughs. If it was any other man saying this to her about Colonel Rhodes, she might. "You do know he's old enough to be my father?"
"And I'm old enough to be your grandfather."
"That doesn't seem to have stopped you from cradle-snatching." The retort escapes her lips before she can rein it in, and Maria bites down on anything more as her cheeks go pink. "Sorry. That was out of line."
"Do we have to worry about the lines?"
"The lines are written into our job descriptions. Fraternisation policy," she says when he looks a little blank. "Personal relationships in hierarchical structures."
"And I'm asking you to cross those lines." He exhales, a noise halfway between a laugh and a sigh. "It wasn't a fair thing to ask, was it?"
"The rules of fair play do not apply in love and war."
"So which are we?"
"Both?" Maria turns her head to watch as another couple dance by, a little closer than she'd like. There's not much by way of privacy on the floor, but at least the constant movement means the entirety of their conversation won't be overheard. "Things between us...they could go bad very easily."
"You can say no, you know."
"I never thought I couldn't."
"Right. Of course you didn't." He sounds resigned, and it's so strange seeing him like this – yet reassuring, too. If he's the perfect hero, he's also very human: a man with his doubts and his hopes and his fears.
And isn't that what she loves about him?
"Steve--"
"It's okay. I wanted you to think about it and you have."
Maria digs her nails into his shoulder, because otherwise he's not going to understand why she can't let this go any further. "Steve." She waits until he has her attention – full and undivided – and what she was about to say comes out not quite the way she intended to say it. "You terrify me."
As declarations of love go, it's not very good. And Steve stares at her for a stunned moment during which she can hear someone's hoot of laughter across the room and randomly hopes it's not because someone's sneaked a parabolic mike into the room and is training it on them.
His mouth twitches. "It's mutual, you know. You… You're just…scary." Then rushing a little as though she might order him shot him down, he adds, "We could agree to terrify each other."
"I don't think that makes it better."
"It's a risk," he acknowledges, "for you more than for me."
"And we're not the risk taking kind."
"Not the reckless kind. I'm happy to leave that to Stark and Thor, personally. But if we don't take unnecessary risks, we don't always play it safe, either. Or we wouldn't be doing what we're doing."
"Judiciously dangerous." The words escape her lips before she can stop them. And then Maria wants to laugh – at his expression, at their conversation, at herself.
Then a twinkle comes into Steve's eye – a gleam of laughter, bright as day. "I'll be judiciously dangerous if you will."
Her own laughter bubbles up, laced with an aching tenderness; and the truth is that she'd never silence it completely. And she wants this – wants him and his steady, unflinching honesty, his frank uncertainty, and the belief that runs through his veins, as necessary to who he is as blood.
"All right." She meets his gaze, feeling the moment stretch out in challenge. "We'll be judiciously dangerous together, then."
Steve smiles – a slow, easy grin that uncoils desire in her belly and makes her think that this won't be easy, but it'll be good. "Yeah, we will."
The rest of the dance passes in a blur for Steve.
They converse in fits and starts, like waking up briefly before falling back into a dream.
Steve draws her a little closer when someone looks about to bump into them, and doesn't let go once they've passed. Her mouth curves, close enough that he could turn his face and kiss her if he wanted. And he wants to – but not here, in public, with God and New York looking on.
Later, he promises himself, and sees the same restrained desire in her eyes.
When the music ends – too soon! Maria says thanks for the dance and Steve says thanks for putting up with his feet, and it's all politeness on the surface, while tenderness and terror boil beneath their skins.
She's almost smiling as she walks away, crossing the room to speak with someone else, and Steve's almost smiling as she goes – until Natasha comes up beside him, hooking her arm in his.
"Would you like a suggestion?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Try not to look quite so happy."
"I didn't think I was smiling."
"You were about to. Don't."
Steve doesn't ask how Natasha knows that he and Maria want their relationship to be professional in public, but he's grateful for the reality check. And grateful for the decoy. With Natasha on his arm, people turn to look and talk, and there's speculation in their eyes as they chat.
"Natalie, so nice to see you in something that isn't black," Tony announces from behind them. "Should I ask how you got in, or will I find security guards dead in some storage closet?"
"Stark." Steve's protest is at least half-laughing, although Natasha barely bats an eyelash as she regards Stark with mild exasperation.
"And you," Tony claps him on the shoulder. "I see you survived a dance with the iron SHIELD maiden."
"Or she survived one with me."
"True. See, that's what I like about you - you're so modest. And I am so...not."
Steve has a sudden memory of Howard assuring him and Peggy that one of his inventions would work – he made it, after all. It makes him smile.
"Isn't this a great party?" Tony beams around him, slightly bent but - so far as Steve can tell - not yet blind. "I think it's a great party - even if Barton is skulking up in the balconies." He turns to Natasha, "I swear that next time I invite you two, you're required to dress in neon yellow, just so I can keep an eye on you. With stripes. And then you can be the Wasp and he can be Bumblebee!"
Steve exchanges a look with Natasha, who shrugs. "He'll be like this for the next dozen drinks. Then he gets rowdy."
"I object to being spoken of like I'm not here!"
"Are we speaking of him like he's not here?"
"Yes, we are," Natasha answers. "But I think that Pepper wants his attention."
"Pepper always wants my attention," Tony says, turning. "I think she's spent most of the last twelve years trying to get my attention. And mostly failing, although not for lack of trying on her part."
"I can't imagine why." Steve turns Tony towards his fiancee, giving Natasha a rueful glance. "Let's go see Pepper."
Pepper is starting off the 'formal' part of the night - the announcement of the Avenger's Rebuilding Initiative - a fund and committee set up to help rebuild New York neighbourhoods damaged in the Chitauri attack - specifically the less-moneyed neighbourhoods. Community halls, sports centres, and some smaller businesses will be eligible for assistance.
There's a lot of speeches, including one of the state Senators, a director of Stark Enterprises, and the mayor of New York who goes on for nearly ten minutes about heroes and saviours and courage and generosity.
Then it's Steve's turn.
He argued against having to do this. Steve's no good at speeches. He never was, even before the USO. And the USO wasn't speeches so much as a script. Scripts he can do; speeches? No. However, as Pepper pointed out when he protested, the alternative was Tony.
Steve figured he'd give something short and simple. 'Thank you for coming and for your generosity; the Avengers appreciate your contribution.'
The Mayor's speech leaves him feeling like he has something to say.
"Uh... Hi. Thank you all for coming here tonight, and I'd like to thank Mr. Mayor for his kind remarks about the Avengers." Steve pauses, gathering his thoughts. "The banner behind me says Earth's Mightiest Heroes - seems like an overly-grand name for a bunch of people who did what they did because they had to - because they had the ability to fight the Chitauri for those who didn't.
"I can't speak for all my fellow Avengers, but I know that I'm here tonight because I can help people who might not be able to help themselves right now. That's not heroic to me - that's just what people ought to do."
His gaze drifts over the crowd and comes to rest on a sky-blue dress and a faint smile. And Steve thinks of her standing in an Alpine storm, telling him that keeping him out of enemy hands was more important than her life.
"Sometimes heroism isn't doing the great things; sometimes it's just doing the little things because someone else needs you to do it. Winning a war might take strength and strategy, but rebuilding takes courage and persistence. And what we build today might last longer than we imagine." And now that he's got that out, he's got nowhere to go. It's an awkward moment as he searches for an ending that's meaningful and relevant to the evening. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm no good at speeches, but I hope you'll dig deep into your pocketbooks, because this is a good cause, going to good people – real heroes. And the Avengers are proud to be doing this work in partnership with you."
The applause is more than he deserves for what he's starting to think was a pretty limping speech, even if Pepper's smile says it was fine.
Tony is considerably less appreciative when he gets off the stage. "We have to get you speaking lessons before we ever let you near a microphone again," he mutters as Pepper announces that every dollar donated tonight will be matched by one from Stark Industries.
"It sounded fine to me," Barton says, appearing out of nowhere with a couple of bottles of beer and handing one to Steve. "Thought you might need one of these."
"We are never letting you anywhere near a speech," Tony tells Barton. "You'd probably just strangle it in the dark. No, wait, that's Romanoff."
"They don't pay me to do more than look pretty."
"And you hardly manage that anyway. Where's my beer, by the way?"
Barton grins. It's not quite malicious. "I left yours back at the bar. I think Hill's drinking it."
Steve begins to turn, looking for Maria. Barton's hand on his shoulder recalls him back to their surroundings and the people beginning to crowd in around them, having got up the courage to approach them. He doesn't get to do more than take a sip of his beer before they're surrounded by people and conversation, and there's yet another round of handshaking, name-dropping, and even some flirting.
He converses, he's polite, he doesn't quite know what to do with the flirting – it's so obvious these days.
Tony loves it, of course.
Barton makes a getaway that can only be described as cowardly, leaving Steve to deal with Tony– at least until Thor comes over.
"Oh good." Tony's still in the voluble stage of his drinking. "Fresh blood."
"This party is hardly comparable to bloodshed," Thor observes before shaking Steve's hand. "An excellent speech, Steve Rogers. Warriors fight and are duly glorified, but it is in the aftermath of battle that a man's true mettle is shown."
Tony frowns. "That sounds like something from a book of inspirational quotes."
"It is a saying of my father's. I do not believe he has ever put them down in runes."
"Well, it sounded much better when you said it," Steve observes with a wry smile. "Next time, you can give the speech."
"No, I would not deprive you of the pleasure – or the pain – by any means." Thor laughs. "I fear my style of oratory is not suited to the people of your planet. A little too high-fluting, I believe."
Since Thor is anything but fluting, his words earn him some very blank stares. "That's...probably 'high-falutin'," Steve says after a moment.
"But I have the meaning correct?"
"Yeah, I'd say you have the meaning down pat," says Steve.
"Good. Jane believes that what is said is less important than that one is understood, and I'm growing accustomed to your idiom." Thor looks a little beyond Steve. "Lady Hill."
Steve turns in time to catch Maria's twitch of the lips. "Lieutenant will do fine, thank you, Thor."
"What, you don't want us to call you 'Miss Lieutenant Major, sir'?" Tony jokes. "You're looking surprisingly elegant tonight, Hill. I didn't even recognise you without your gun."
"It's understandable, Stark. Visual acuity tends to decrease after forty-five." Maria meets Steve's eye for a moment, and he sees the glint of rueful laughter there. "I came to say thank you for inviting me to the party."
"You're leaving? So soon?" Thor frowns faintly, saying what Steve wants to before Steve has to. "The night is yet young."
"And I have work in the morning." It's a calm statement of a fact – no complaining or recriminations. "Commander Fury allowed me the afternoon off, but I'm due back on the helicarrier at 9am tomorrow."
"No rest for the wicked."
"Or for the responsible," comes the wry and pointed reply. "But I'm not sure you know so much about that, Stark. Gentlemen, enjoy yourselves. Try not to raise hell. Do not do anything that will require SHIELD's intervention. I'll see you when I see you."
Her eyes rest on Steve as she says that last, and while he'd like to follow her, he resists. There's a time and a place and this isn't it. But it takes some reminding, all the same.
The next hours seem endless.
It's nearly midnight when he manages to extract himself from the party. Tony's firmly sozzled by now, but nobody seems to mind. "Classic Stark," Natasha tells him as Tony laughs a little too loudly and slaps the New York Senator on the back. "This is actually quite restrained for him. He's gotten much better since he and Pepper got together." She smiles at him, a little kindly. "Do you want an exit?"
"I'm wishing I'd left with Maria two hours ago."
"I'll call you a limo," Natasha says, heading for one of the doors that lead out of the room.
"I'm able to do that myself, you know."
She doesn't miss a step. "Of course you are."
Steve shakes his head, and goes to tell Pepper that he's leaving and that it was a lovely party. She looks tired, but pleased, and although many of the guests have wilted, she manages to maintain that air of classy elegance that wouldn't have put her out of place back in Steve's time.
"I hope it wasn't too tiresome for you," she says, smiling and nodding at a couple who are just on their way out. "I was hoping Lieutenant Hill could stay longer, but..."
"Work. Duty. Responsibility. I know how it goes."
"Do you need me to call one of the limos?"
"No, Natasha's already doing that." Steve grimaces. "I think she's managing me."
"It's a sign of affection." Pepper kisses him on the cheek and looks towards the entranceway where Natasha is making her way down the stairs to the ballroom floor, her fiery hair an unmistakeable beacon. "There's your call. Thank you for coming, Steve."
Natasha waits for him at the foot of the stairs. "You're good to go."
Steve leans over and presses a kiss against the pale temple, ignoring the buzz of speculation around them. When he draws back, she's staring at him.
"Do I want to know?"
He grins then. "Probably not."
The promised limo is waiting in the hotel drive, and the doorman opens it up with a tip of his cap. "Sir."
Steve starts to get in, then pauses as paper rustles. Inside the limousine, the downlights throw sharp shadows over Maria and the files she's picking up off the seats so he can sit down beside her.
"Whatever happened to a nine o'clock start?"
"I called Fury and switched shifts."
"And didn't come back in?"
"I thought I'd get some paperwork done."
He settles in beside her, closing one hand over hers. "You terrify me."
And her mouth curves - that bright brilliant grin that punches him in the chest. "I know."
Maria leans in then, and Steve meets her halfway, and there's an avoidance of noses and bumped teeth and a breath of laughter before their mouths meet.
He's been wanting this all night – the taste of her mouth, the shape of her lips under his – and if the way she leans into the kiss is any indication, she's been wanting this, too. Maria meets him without shyness, without hesitation, without shame – she knows what she wants and Steve's heart pounds at the thought that it's him.
Now that they have time, they take it, savouring the touch and the privacy, the tenderness and the uncertainty. No rush, no haste, no world to save, no cameras to avoid, just her hands on his thigh and shoulder and his hand in the small of her back and the nape of her neck…
Steve lets himself drown in the rightness of it. A woman of edges, yes, but not unyielding and not hard. She's what she needs to be, and he can respect that and admire that, love it, deplore it, and be terrified by it. Doubtless he will in the coming months. Doubtless, sooner or later, they'll find themselves on opposite sides of the fence.
When they do, they'll deal with it.
But in the meantime, he'll savour every moment with this unique, unexpected woman.
When Maria draws away, he follows instinctively, but her expression is puzzled. "We're not moving."
Dim murmurs outside turn to voices as the limousine door opens, and Tony declares, "Of course he won't mind sharing; it's not like he's got a-- Good god!"
Tony looks like Thor just smacked him across the back of the head, and Thor and Dr. Foster are trying to hide their grins – Dr. Foster less successfully than Thor.
"Hello, Stark, Thor, Dr. Foster." Maria leans against Steve - sprawls, as a matter of fact, like Jean Harlow in a pin-up poster. "Please shut the door. We're busy."
"Ah, Captain. We apologise for interrupting," Thor says, not quite solemn. "May your evening be full of delight."
Tony's jaw shuts with an audible click of teeth. "We," he says to Steve, "are going to have a talk about this."
But he shuts the door on Dr. Foster's laughing comment of, "It's not like we can't just fly home--"
The limousine moves off then, sliding out into the midnight streets of the city. Steve glances at Maria, who looks exasperated. "I guess that cat's out of the bag." Then, because Tony could make things awkward, he asks, "Do you mind?"
The silence gives him pause. Then Maria smiles. "Kiss me again and I'll think about it."
Steve does as ordered.
"People "with edges" take up space.
They give us a reason to talk, to wonder, to think.
People with edges can alter their surroundings,
as opposed to having their surroundings alter them."
~ joseph riley land ~
- fin –
END NOTES: I know that in the comics, Maria and Steve more often end up on opposite sides of the table; however in the comics, Maria was also recruited specifically because she didn't follow Nick Fury. And Steve and Fury were pretty tight as leader of SHIELD and leader of the Avengers. Oh, and Nick Fury was white.
Considering Maria is pretty much Nick's 2IC in the cinematic universe, Steve thinks Nick has blood on his hands, and Maria gave Steve the once-over when he first came onto the helicarrier bridge, to say nothing of the fact that Nick Fury is played by Samuel L Jackson...I figure I have some leeway.