Disclaimer: Characters belong to Marvel, not me.
A/N: So, my friend and I are convinced that Captain America and Agent Hill are going to end up together after witnessing the onscreen chemistry they shared in the two or three scenes they were together in. The characters are based off Joss Whedon's Avengers film, rather than the comics. Enjoy!
Song: Ev'ry Time We Say Goodbye-Written by Cole Porter
Captain Steve Rogers gently set the needle of the phonograph down into the groove of the record. After a few seconds of static, the jazzy first notes of "Ev'ry Time We Say Goodbye" began to play. Rogers closed his eyes and shut out all the distractions and noises of the modern world, envisioning himself in a 1940s dance hall. Peggy would be a vision in a red cocktail dress, he in formal military attire. The band would strike up the music and the couples would glide onto the dance floor. Steve would take Peggy's hand and they would join the milieu. Peggy would smile up at him and Steve would grin back at her. They had nothing to fear anymore. No more Nazis or Hydra, and, more importantly, no more war. He would brush a loose lock of hair off her face. Peggy would lean in slowly, her eyes closed, and Steve would do the same, waiting for the moment when their lips would…
"Couldn't afford an iPod on your government salary, Captain?" a female voice said, startling Rogers from his reverie. Steve's eyes shot open as he spun around to face the intruder, embarrassed that they had caught him dancing with the air. Agent Hill stared back at him, her face neutral. Rogers shot her a wry grin.
"Yeah, Stark gave me the newest version, but I couldn't quite figure it out. The technology was a bit advanced for me," he said, scratching his head abashedly. "I think Fury took pity on me, so he gave me this instead." Rogers stopped the music. "What can I do for you, Agent Hill?"
"Sgt. Fury just wanted me to check up on you. See if you were better adjusting to civilian life," Hill replied stiffly.
"So, he's got you making house calls?" Rogers asked jokingly. "Tell Fury I'm fine, though I'm not sure I'll ever get used to this century. Everything's so fast. Sometimes, I don't think I can keep up."
"Not everything's different. We still dance in 2012."
"I've seen what you call dancing," Rogers replied. "All that bumping and grinding." Hill let out a small snort at that, surprising herself and Rogers.
"Thank you, Grandpa Rogers," Hill teased, though her tone remained somewhat formal. "And not all of us have forgotten the moves of yesteryear."
"You can dance?" Rogers asked disbelievingly. Hill's eyebrows furrowed at his tone.
"I received top marks in Subterfuge, which meant I had to learn formal dance. I do a mean foxtrot," Hill bragged, her tone still clipped and professional.
"I wish I could say the same about myself. Dancing's never been my strong suit. Apparently, Dr. Erskine didn't think a super soldier needed anything other than two left feet," Rogers stated, shrugging.
"Well, he made up for that loss with the other benefits," Hill replied. Rogers shot her a small smile. "Why the sudden interest in dancing, Captain?" Steve sighed and a faraway look entered his eyes.
"I have a rain check on a dance I never got to cash in," Rogers said, his voice filled with regret. "Thought I should practice in case I ever got to redeem it." Hill remained silent for a moment.
"Did you ever find out what happened to Peggy Carter?" she asked tentatively. Rogers looked down at the floor.
"Fury showed me her file. Married a British scientist she met in the reserve. They had two kids, Steve and Meredith. She died of natural causes in 2003. I was nine years too late to give her that dance."
"Maybe not," Hill replied.
"Excuse me?" Rogers asked, confused.
"Maybe it's not too late. I think we can still keep your promise to Agent Carter." Hill turned and walked over to Rogers, setting her left hand on his shoulder and holding out her right hand for his left. Rogers slowly placed his hand in hers. "Now put your right hand right below my shoulder blade. Keep your body straight and tall."
Rogers followed her instructions. Standing this close to her, he noticed for the first time the grey-green color of her eyes. He stared down at her, and he suddenly began to feel nervous.
"I'm not so sure about this, Agent Hill."
"Trust me, Captain. She would have wanted you to learn. A soldier who can't dance disgraces his regiment." Rogers looked at her in horror.
"That was a joke," Hill explained. "Sorry, those aren't my strong suit." Rogers let out a chuckle.
"I'm just a little bit out of my depth here. This makes fighting Hydra seem easy," he replied. Hill flashed him a quick grin.
"The foxtrot has two slow steps, then two quick ones. You'll step forward on your left first, and I'll step back on my right. Then you step right and I step left. Perfect. Now your left foot steps to the side and the right follows; those are your quick steps."
Silence fell as Rogers concentrated on his feet and the moves. He managed to perform the routine passably and he looked up at Hill. Her face lit up with a real smile, and Rogers felt his pulse begin to quicken.
"Ready to try it with music?"
"Yes ma'am," Rogers replied, giving her a salute. Hill walked over to the phonograph and the smooth jazz began to play. Hill slipped her hand into his once more and the training room faded away around them. Rogers found himself in the same dance hall of his earlier vision, but this time Agent Hill was on his arm, looking resplendent in navy blue. Faceless couples twirled around them. Rogers took a deep breath and then they began to dance.
Moments ago, Rogers had been hesitant and faltering, but now he moved with grace and confidence. He led Hill through the dance, and she matched him perfectly. They whirled in unison, and Rogers found himself experiencing the feeling of being totally in control of his own body, but at the same time moving entirely in sync with another person. That sensation usually came only on the battlefield, when he and his fellow soldiers came together—seamlessly and effortlessly coordinating their efforts—and fought as one unit.
But the battlefield didn't make his heart pound in this way or cause the blood to sing through his veins to this type of tune. As the song ended, Rogers raised his arm and spun Hill around. As she turned back, a lock of hair fell into her face. The world seemed to freeze then. In that moment, Rogers saw the woman underneath the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, and she was just as marvelous to behold. Hill looked softer without her standard serious expression. The way she looked back at him showed Rogers that she was seeing him in a new light too. He reached up to brush the lock of hair from her face. "Agent Hill," he said, as if asking permission.
"It's Maria, Captain Rogers" she replied slightly breathless.
"I prefer Steve," he said as his fingers brushed her face.
They stared into each other's eyes for a moment, then Maria closed hers, and Steve began to lean toward her, waiting for that moment when their lips would finally…
"Agent Hill," Sgt. Fury's voice blared from Hill's headset. In an instant, the fantastical dance hall fell away from them and they sprang apart.
"Sir?" Hill replied, pressing her hand against her earpiece.
"I need you to report to HQ. I've got another assignment for you. See you in an hour," Sgt. Fury responded.
"Yes sir," Hill answered, and the line went dead. Hill and Rogers stared at each other, the easiness in each other's company they had felt only moments before no longer present.
"You're a beautiful dancer," Rogers finally replied. Hill gave him a soft smile.
"You're not so bad yourself," she replied as she turned to leave. Just before she got to the stairs leading up from the training room, she turned.
"Agent Carter would have been proud. I'm glad I got to be your rain check."
Rogers grinned. Me too, he thought to himself as he heard the door close. Me too.