Author's Notes:

I loved this movie so much! I wanted to write Bucky in but I wasn't quite sure if I could give his character justice so I settled with mentions of him. Anyway, I'm essentially posting this here as part of a bigger story under the Avengers tag. It's called "I Walk the Line" but if you're only interested in the CATWS part of the story, then please read on.

The nights were mainly made for saying things that you can't say tomorrow day.

i find it very, very easy to be true

He's watching Natasha from the window when he senses movement beside him. He sees Maria and notes her glassy, red-rimmed eyes and her clenched jaw that moves ever so slightly when she exhales through her mouth. He realizes that although her face appears dry, she's on the verge of crying and trying so hard not to. He stares at her for a while, looking as though he wants to reach out and say something, anything. But when he opens his mouth, she cuts him off.

"I need to take him." Her voice sounds soft but steady, her gaze lowered.

He blinks. "Of course." He looks back at Natasha and starts to leave but he pauses and turns to back to her. His hand moves to reach out to her, "Hill, I—"

"Don't." His hand freezes near her forearm. Her head is turned slightly in his direction but her gaze remains lowered. He nods before making his way to Natasha. Only then does she raise her head and blink away any trace of emotion from her expression.

-x-

"That's Captain America you're after. He tends to inspire a certain amount of loyalty."

She wonders what made her say that and how long she's believed it. Still, she keeps the subdued smug look on her face. At least, up until Sitwell informs her of the "director's orders". How dare he accuse her of disloyalty to SHIELD when she has devoted so much of herself, her life to it?

She's pissed even as it dawns on her that this is an opportunity. They're sending her back to New York so they won't be expecting her around. Perfect.

They look to Fury for all his antagonistic glory that they forget that she's a player in this game too. As much as she detests the sexist bastards in her line of work, she knows she can always count on them to overlook her. To them, she's invisible, no matter her status and how hard she's worked to get there. She's used that time and again to her advantage; this time will be no different. She'll be right under their noses and they won't even see her coming.

Boo.

-x-

"Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky."

"We need to get a doctor here. If we don't put pressure on that wound, she's gonna bleed out here in the truck." Sam recoils when one of the Hydra agents threatens him with a taser. And before he knows it, the other agent gets tased and kicked in the head.

When the helmet comes off, they hear a slight groan before they see Maria Hill flip her hair off her face. "That thing was squeezing my brain." Steve looks at her, really looks at her and shares the surprise on Natasha and Sam's faces. "Who's this guy?" She looks at Sam with a slight frown before she meets Steve's gaze.

The question is directed at him but he's too stunned to answer. Stunned not only because he didn't expect anyone to have enough courage and efficiency to infiltrate Hydra this soon just to save them, but also because in that moment, when he felt so down, depressed, and defeated, he realizes that there is no other person he'd want to see, and no other person he'd trust to save his, Nat's, and Sam's lives. He's unsure how to deal with that because there really is no one more than— Maria.

Their transfer to another non-descript van goes smoothly and nobody, except maybe Sam, is surprised because Maria Hill's mission plans always flow smoothly. Steve watches her exit the van before he follows and helps Nat out. Maria leads the way into the abandoned facility and braces herself for their reaction to what's, rather, who's waiting inside.

Maria calls out, "GSW, she's lost at least a pint."

"Maybe two," adds the new guy. Proper introductions can wait.

"Let me take her," the doctor answers as he jogs towards them.

"She'll want to see him first." Her voice softer than it was just moments earlier. She feels Natasha's eyes on her but refuses to meet her questioning gaze even as she opens the curtains to reveal none other than Nick Fury.

"About damn time." She keeps her eyes on Fury throughout the entire discussion of his injuries and of what he'd been through. She lowers her gaze when Natasha speaks.

"They cut you open; your heart stopped." She knows she shouldn't feel bad about having lied, at least not this time, because it's all part of the plan but she couldn't help it even as Fury explains how they pulled it off.

Steve also looks on edge when he asks, "Why all the secrecy? Why not just tell us?"

"Any attempt on the director's life had to look successful," Maria says as if that whole statement explains everything. And it does because—

"They can't kill you if you're already dead." Point. She's about to leave but Fury adds, "Besides, I wasn't sure who to trust." He could have spoken for the both of them but at the same time, he couldn't have. She looks right at Natasha who's already looking at her. She can't claim to know every single one of Natasha's expressions but she knows enough and the look in the assassin's eyes just screams betrayal. It makes her want to apologize; she doesn't. She did this not because she doubted Natasha's — or Steve's — allegiance but because it was necessary. She's never before apologized for doing her job, not even when she came across as the devil incarnate, and she's not about to start now. She knows she's not the villain here and that's the only thing that matters.

-x-

Maria follows Natasha into the break room and hides her smile as she watches all the occupants leave hurriedly. She enters after a few moments and sees the assassin seated alone on the couch.

"Romanoff," she greets and receives a hum in response. She takes two mugs out of the cupboard and prepares some tea. As she's finishing up, she turns to the only other occupant and says, "That was...quite a fight."

Despite Natasha anger, one corner of her lips curls up. "You're better than that, Hill."

"It's a fucking struggle," Maria's reply is droll and they share a smile. She has yet to figure out how most people do it so naturally when she only manages to pull it off while undercover.

"Of course. But everyone knows small talk isn't your strong suit so you're excused." Natasha looks away before asking, "What do you want?"

Maria takes both mugs to where Natasha is seated. She hands her one before she seats herself on one of the tables. "No agent is expendable."

"I am."

"No." Her response comes quickly, forcefully. "You are more than your past, Romanoff." She hears the other woman scoff and she almost yields because she is hardly an expert in these things. Plus, she hates receiving pep talks, much less giving one, but she continues anyway, "The fact that you're trying to wipe out the red in your ledger attests to that."

She still remembers the day Hawkeye brought the Black Widow into SHIELD. How the latter seemed indifferent throughout the whole process, her expression only slipping into subdued shock and confusion when Maria vouched for her after a mere stare-down with Barton which ended with the man simply nodding.

"Then why is he so mad at me for wanting to give that shitfest of a mission a successful end?"

"Successful— You asked him to shoot the target through you, Romanoff. And you wonder why he's angry?" When Natasha simply looks at her, she sighs. "The way you feel about keeping Barton safe? That goes both ways; you're partners. That's why he's so angry." She sees Natasha's eyes widen almost imperceptibly before she looks down at her lap. Maria remembers reading about the damage the Red Room has caused to the assassin's emotional wellbeing. She realizes she's one to talk. She stands then and in an awkward attempt at levity, says, "Don't die on his watch; he'll never stop whining. Or sulking."

"Or both." Natasha watches Maria leave but at the last minute, "Hill?" When Maria looks back at her, she says, "Thank you."

Maria has always stayed on edge around the assassin since she's been brought in. Perhaps it's time that changed. "Thank me by not dying, Natasha."

-x-

"Maybe, just maybe, we can salvage what's left—"

"We're not salvaging anything. We're not just taking down the carriers; we're taking down SHIELD."

"SHIELD had nothing to do with this!"

"You gave me this mission; this is how it ends. SHIELD's been compromised, you said so yourself. Hydra grew right under your nose and nobody noticed." Stab.

Actually, she's had her suspicions for a few months now after she came across a few anomalies. She's brought her suspicions to Fury's attention but since neither of them could gather actual proof without tipping someone off and calling the attention of whomever is behind this mess, they couldn't afford to make hasty, overt, and unplanned decisions. Even so, an infiltration this deep, efficient, and high up in the ranking couldn't have been less than a few years in the making; they're still too late.

"Why do you think we're meeting in this cave? I noticed."

"How many paid the price before you did?" Stab.

"Look, I didn't know about Barnes."

"Even if you did, would you have told me? Or would you have compartmentalized that too?" Stab. "SHIELD, Hydra… It all goes."

She knows the questions and accusations were directed at Fury but she feels each stab nonetheless. This is SHIELD; she is equally responsible for it. And it is for this reason that she says, "He's right."

She's gone against Fury a number of times before but she's never seen him look at her with as much betrayal as he does now. And since she's just been the recipient of a similar look from Natasha, she wonders, "God, is this my life now?" She watches his silent call for support, first from Natasha who simply leans back in her chair and then to the other guy — his name is Sam Wilson, the Falcon, she's learned.

"Don't look at me. I do what he does, just slower."

Fury then leans back in resignation. "Well… Looks like you're giving the orders now, Captain."

A few hours later, she finds herself seated on the cramped floor space of one of the facility's fire exits. She's looking out towards the sunset, running the plan over and over in her head until only the moonlight shines upon her. She's brought back to reality when she feels a small plate being placed on her lap. On the plate is a generous helping of wheat bread. Even without looking up, she knows who's standing beside her and whose voice it is that greets her.

"You didn't eat." She only gives a small shake of her head to acknowledge him before looking back towards the expanse of land behind the facility. "Couldn't sleep either, huh?"

"Knowing what's about to happen tomorrow? Not really, no." She pinches a piece of bread and rolls it in her fingers.

"You're about to blow SHIELD up, set fire to what's been your life for so long."

She throws the piece of bread with a force almost enough to pitch a baseball. "SHIELD wasn't my life." If her tone is marked with a tinge of spite, so be it; they both know that was a lie anyway. He is irked a bit by her wasting of food but they're about to lay waste to SHIELD so he lets it slide and just sits down beside her.

"Maybe. But at the very least, it's become your home."

She shrugs. "I'll just have to find a new one." She looks at him with a veil of resignation but her determination still shines through. Something shifts in Steve's eyes, something akin to desire, but he knows that now is not the time for whatever this is so he looks away only to look back at her when she speaks, "What's keeping you up, Rogers? Metal arm?"

"Bucky," his tone defensive, on edge.

She meets his intense gaze when she replies, "I know. Once upon a time, he was pure and innocent 'Bucky'. Maybe he still is. But right now, he's not who you remember him to be; right now, he's the Winter Soldier. Making it personal would only make it more difficult to do what's necessary."

"He'll remember." He swallows before he quietly adds, "He has to."

"And if he doesn't?"

It takes him a while to answer. "I won't kill him." I can't.

"I didn't say anything about killing him. But he'll stop you if you don't stop him first." The reminder that neither of them can let that happen goes unsaid.

After a rather long lull in their conversation where they're both just staring into the darkness behind the facility, he decides to break the silence. "It's these times that I… I wish I could be that kid in Brooklyn again. Or get drunk, even just for a little while." They're both aware that he can't get drunk and though they've never really tried it, they figured drugs probably won't have the desired effect either. "Get a blackout and forget about what seems like a never-ending war, you know?" He feels desperate when he looks at her. Desperate for what?

She looks back at him, really looks at him for longer than what's deemed socially appropriate before making the decision. "I do."

His eyes are closed but he swears he sees the stars. He doesn't know what's happening but he feels himself responding. It's only when he hears the plate hit the floor beside them that it registers: They're kissing.

Steve may have inadvertently lied to Natasha when she asked if their escalator kiss was his first since the 40s "I'm 95, not dead." But really, truthfully, he simply meant to say it definitely wasn't going to be his last. His mind goes blank because— He is kissing Maria. Well, Maria kissed him first and he kissed her back and now they're kissing. He's pulled her by her waist, close enough that she's now on his lap with her knees on either side of his hips and her hands in his hair.

The bread goes stale but neither of them give it a second thought when they don't even know how they made their way from the fire exit to the makeshift room connected to it.

-x-

Clothes are discarded haphazardly across the room until they're both free to explore every inch of skin on each other. He wants to say this is all muscle memory but it isn't because he hasn't done this as much as a man his age ought to. And yet, oddly enough, it all comes naturally to him.

He kisses her slowly but with an intensity akin to if he were devouring her. He walks her back towards the bed without ever breaking the kiss except for the need to breathe. He falls onto her but he keeps his weight balanced on his arms so as not to crush her. He kisses down her chin, her jaw, her neck and sucks first on a spot behind her ear and then another near the junction where her neck and shoulder meet; both make her shudder almost violently as she bites her bottom lip, her hands clutching the sheets. He runs his tongue down the valley between her breasts and only gets to press a kiss on each breast before he finds himself flat on his back staring up at her.

Her ponytail has fallen loose enough that a mere shake of her head has dislodged it completely. She has her hands on his chest and as she looks down at him — her face pale in the moonlight, her eyes darker than their usual steel blue, her lips swollen from their kissing, her hair tousled, her expression inviting and intense — he thinks she's never been more beautiful.

He opens his mouth to say so but all that comes out is a moan when she rocks her hips on top of his. His eyes are shut tightly as he places his hands on her thighs on either side of him to wordlessly ask her to slow down a bit. She pauses but the moment he opens his eyes to look at her, she resumes her movement. One of his hands slides up to her hips and squeezes. His eyes close again as he finds himself enjoying the wet friction where he wants it the most.

He opens his eyes when he feels her lift herself up a bit. His gaze never leaving hers as she slowly envelops him in her warmth. He's breathless. And when she starts moving, finding that perfect rhythm, everything is electric. She never once says a word but he whispers, moans her name.

"Maria."

He hears sounds coming from deep within her but mostly, she tries to hold back by keeping her bottom lip between her teeth. There are moments when the pleasure becomes overwhelming enough that moans escape her. Steve is in awe of her, so much so that he focuses on getting her to let go of whatever's holding her back. He touches her, slowly caressing every inch exposed to him and waiting for her to stop him and say no but she doesn't.

"Maria."

When his hands cup her breasts, her moan comes out louder; much louder when he eventually figures out what she likes. He notices her breathing increase both in rate and volume as their movements become frantic; that's when she takes one of his hands and brings it down to where they're joined as one. He circles his thumb to that one spot before he presses down and she nearly screams before she plants her lips onto his in an experience so intense, he nearly blacks out when she collapses on top of him.

"Oh God, Maria," her name, a prayer from his lips.

When he wakes, it's still dark outside and he's alone, he begins to think it was all a dream that left him exhausted until he shifts to the middle of the bed, smells her on the pillow, and realizes he's naked underneath the sheets. He lifts his head a little to look around the room but she's not there.

Come morning, they don't talk except to reorient themselves with the plan. The journey to the Triskelion is filled with tense silence. The kind Sam thinks is just everyone's nerves, his definitely. The kind Natasha thinks has to do with how she saw Steve emerge from the room she was sure Maria entered the night before, but she keeps quiet even as she curiously studies them. The kind Steve thinks is the weight of what they're about to do coupled with what happened between him and Maria last night; Maria's presence has always affected him, but not to this extent. The kind Maria ignores and refuses to address so she remains cool and calm, indifferent — almost her usual self, save for the fact that she doesn't meet Steve's gaze.

-x-

"I know I'm asking a lot. But the price of freedom is high. It always has been." He recalls the first conversation he had with Maria, about security and calculated risks. "And it's a price I'm willing to pay. And if I'm the only one, then so be it." From the corner of his eye, he sees Maria turn to look at him. "But I'm willing to bet I'm not." Because he isn't. She's there. Nat's there. Sam's there. And Fury too.

Throughout Steve's speech, Sam feels himself beam with pride that he couldn't help asking, "Did you write that down first? Or was it off the top of your head?" The next thing Sam knows, he's dodging bullets from the 'bad guys'.

"Eight minutes, Cap."

As reassuring as seeing her name on mission statements is, Steve finds he likes this better — listening to her voice in the comms relaxes him somehow, helps him focus. "Working on it." Not long after, he goes through more of the bad guys and gets one of the targeting blades in. "Alpha lock."

"Falcon? Where are you now?"

"Had to take a detour!" He replies as he glides around, trying to shake off a few missiles. In his haste and distraction, he seems to have forgotten to disconnect his comms. Maria assumes he's successful because she hears his exclamations of "Woohoo!" and "Oh yeah!" almost as if he's enjoying it. And he probably is, more than he should. She doesn't even try to stop the eye-roll as she hears him get into one of the carriers. "I'm in." Before he flies away to assist Steve, he shouts, "Bravo lock!"

In the camera feed, she sees incoming; two Hydra agents, two bullets. "Six minutes."

The third helicarrier proves to be more of a challenge because both Steve and Sam are greeted by the Winter Soldier. She listens to the exchange after Falcon's suit is down. She tells him about Rumlow and the Council before focusing now on Steve and the countdown. She continues to give him updates every now and then and feels the hairs on the back of her neck stand on attention when a few minutes pass without any response from him. "One minute." She waits a bit and fails to mask the worry and urgency in her voice as she says, "Thirty seconds, Cap!"

Mere seconds before the time runs out, Steve's coarse, almost breathless voice resounds, "Charlie lock."

She releases the breath she didn't realize she was holding. His voice was cracked when he spoke and his breathing was ragged but she responds with an, "Okay, Cap." Because more importantly, she needs him to— "Get out of there."

"Fire now," she hears him say.

No agent is expendable.

When he thinks nothing more intimate than shared breaths and dueling tongues and physically becoming one would transpire between them, she calls him by his given name, her voice cracked around the edges.

Making it personal…

"But, Steve—"

...would only make it more difficult...

"Do it!" She pauses, her hand hovering over the controls. "Do it now!" She blinks.

...to do what's necessary.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this little bit of Captain Hill. There's one particular scene that I've never EVER tried writing and I think you can guess which one. It was satisfying enough, I hope? Btw, that first line is from "Do I Wanna Know?" by the Arctic Monkeys. It's a beautiful song, listen to it (and their discography, tbh).