Title: Standard Issue Regrets
Author: Traxits
Rating: Mature.
Content Notes: Author chose not to use warnings.
Chapter Word Count: 3029 words.
Author's Notes: So the entire fic was born from the realization during my last Marvel movie marathon that 2003 Betty Ross and Avenger's Maria Hill look enough alike that I bet it gives Bruce absolute hell when Maria walks by. He's just almost painfully aware of her, and not necessarily that creepy sense, but in the sense of, he catches a glimpse of her and his head comes up as his hindbrain goes, "Betty?"

And then he's crushed all over again when he realizes that no, it isn't Betty.

It started out as a five-times fic. Then Maria really got started talking. Somehow, it evolved into this multi-chaptered thing wherein Maria finds her feet among the other Avengers. ... I hope you enjoy it as much as I'm enjoying writing it!

(Chapter One)

It wasn't so much that Banner was actually invited to help on the mission as it was that he'd been caught in the crossfire. Stupid saying, and even dumber that it was actually true.

Maria sighed as she pulled her gun up and kept it trained on the hostiles, one of whom had a gun to Banner's forehead. It was entirely too close, and while Banner managed to look nearly bored there, she remembered what people had said about him in New York. That he'd just turned with no warning, no build up, and no assault on him. He reached up to adjust his glasses, and when the man holding him shouted, he said something in response. He was too far for Maria to hear, and she wished, not for the first time, that they were closer so that she could have at least read his lips.

"He's telling them that they're making a mistake," Clint reported, in his perch overseeing the whole scene. Doubtless, he was looking through a scope, and Maria made a low noise, hopefully pitched too low for the earpiece to pick up. "Looks like they disagree. They seem to think the pretty white scientist will be enough to make the Americans slow down."

"Little do they know," Maria muttered to herself, and she snapped her fingers at the interpreter standing near her. "Tell them that they are standing with something very dangerous. We're asking them to hand over the hostage for their own safety."

A raised eyebrow met her words, but obediently, the translator spoke through the megaphone.

Maria could feel sweat beading up on her forehead, nerves ratcheting up as they shouted back. She didn't need the translator to say anything for her to know they didn't believe her. It was all over how they twisted to try to stand a little more behind Banner, jamming that gun against his temple.

"Looks like our mild mannered scientist is losing his temper. I am fairly sure that vein in his head is starting to throb."

"I can feel that much, Hawkeye," Maria retorted.

"Yeah, well, I can describe it for you. Lots of sweat on our boy too—"

"It's muggy as shit out here; of course he's sweating." Maria cast a glance down the line of agents, and she ground her teeth together some. Clint's colorful description was making them nervous, had them shying at the idea of charging the hostiles. Maria's own hands felt clammy though, so she could hardly blame them. "Hold," she said firmly, keeping her voice even. Nothing was wrong here. (Yet.) "Hey, tell them that their hostage is very dangerous. We want to take him in so that he doesn't hurt them."

The translator dutifully repeated her without so much as a hesitation, and Maria watched the light glinting off Banner's glasses as he tipped his head forward. Laughing, probably, knowing him. The man had a sick sense of humor, but it wasn't something Maria could actually fault him for. If she had the Other Guy in her, she was pretty sure she would share that twisted way of looking at the world.

The tension between them rose a little more as they shouted back, and the translator murmured, "They say that he is their prisoner, and only after they get somewhere clear will they give him back. He is their assurance that we will not open fire."

Maria heard her own teeth grinding together before she realized what she was doing, and then she finally said sharply, "Hawkeye, do you have a solution?"

"I have the solution," he replied immediately. There was never hesitation from him, and she swallowed. Fury had wanted these idiots alive, but somehow, she thought he'd forgive her killing one if it meant preventing someone breaking the good doctor's current streak.

"Take it," she ordered.

The words had scarcely left her lips before the arrow appeared in the forehead of the man holding Banner, and so help her, but Banner didn't even so much as flinch. He just stepped lightly to one side as his captor collapsed, and he dusted himself off, head coming up—

A gunshot rang out and Maria's lips parted, her eyes widening as she watched Banner stagger. He had turned just enough to look behind him and someone had shot him, but what had her breath caught was the way she saw his body twitching and jerking and she couldn't see it from where she was, but Clint provided all the details that she was missing.

"We've got seams busting, Hill, oh shit, that was the bullet bouncing off— Hill, we've got an interloper here—"

More like a concerned party, Maria thought vaguely, and no, this wasn't the place for this. Not here, not in the middle of the city in this warehouse, but Banner's body twitched again, jerked, and his skin turned a dull green as he started to grow. The only satisfying note about this was the way the hostiles paled, stepped back, and she spotted the one who'd shot him because the bastard had dropped his gun, his lips parting— moving, she thought— on what was probably a prayer.

Too bad the Other Guy never heard prayers.

"Get back," she ordered sharply, swinging her arm. "Agents, secure the perimeter. Do not engage!" She didn't follow them though as they fell back. Instead, she reached up and tapped her earpiece, a habit that was as much to make sure the damn thing was still there— Stark's new tech fit so well that she missed the bulk of the old ones, the way she always knew the other agents were with her— as anything. "Hawkeye, Widow, focus on securing the hostiles. We want them alive if possible."

"Hill, don't be crazy," Clint warned, and Maria felt a wry smile twisting her lips.

Don't be crazy. Because that was his job. Natasha's job and his job, but she knew better. He was too far to be a sufficient distraction, and Natasha... Well. She'd seen the tapes of Natasha with the Hulk on the carrier.

She wouldn't willingly put the other woman through that again.

Instead, she shoved her gun into its holster, and she started running, focusing on Banner as he pushed himself up. He'd grown several feet, and judging from the way his body kept spasming and jerking, he wasn't anywhere near done. One of the hostiles screamed and his head swiveled around and no, that wasn't Banner now. It was all the Other Guy, who roared in response. The hostile screamed again, and gunfire erupted, and the Hulk roared, slamming his fists into the ground.

Maria staggered but she didn't let herself fall down. Instead, she rolled right into the fray, pulling out her tranq gun to try to start helping Natasha and Clint with the clean-up, but Clint must have needed to move with the Hulk up, because there were no supporting arrows. It was just her against the hostiles and Hulk both, and she didn't waste darts on trying to take Hulk down. She knew better.

Those things were formulated to drop a person with little more than a good scratch, but they wouldn't break the skin of the green monster in front of her. The Hulk had one of the hostiles by the foot, and he kept slamming the man into the ground and the wall, and the poor bastard had long since stopped screaming. Hulk would probably keep throwing him around until he fell apart though, had the others not opened fire on him.

She had two down, but there were still five standing, and the Hulk threw the broken body toward them, roaring angrily before he turned.

Mid-turn, he stopped, looked at her, and Maria's breath caught. Quickly, she dropped the gun in her hand, holding them up so that he wouldn't see her as a threat. The last thing she wanted was for the Hulk to repeat his little performance on her. He walked over to her, just two steps to close the distance, and he leaned in, bracing on his knuckles as he bent down so that his nose was practically in her hair. She couldn't breathe as warm air washed over her face, and her heart skipped a beat when one of those hands came up—

An arrow bounced off the Hulk's shoulders, and he glared up at Clint before his hand wrapped around Maria. It took her a split second to process the huge hand around her middle, the almost tender hold as she was tucked in against an expanse of green skin that she'd never once considered being so close to. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she looked up sharply at the Hulk, her mouth opening and closing as she caught a glimpse of Natasha's expression as the Black Widow stumbled, her wide eyes and parted mouth.

Maria's stomach sank sharply, her breath caught, and she flinched instinctively for the next round of bullets, because held like this, Hulk's fingers meeting around her waist, she had nowhere to roll, no place to tuck and get the hell away from that hail so that she would survive to shoot back. Turned out that flinching was all Hulk needed to roar a challenge and pull her in against him again, her cheek against his chest, her hands spread flat against those muscles as she twisted to try to get a good view of the field.

There were too many guns still up for her to be out of commission like this, but she didn't dare yell, not with the naked fear she'd seen in Natasha's face.

And honestly, it was much the same fear that pounded through her. It was every woman's fear in this day and age, being snatched up like some King Kong heroine, all agency and ability to defend herself gone. She couldn't breathe though if she let herself think about that, so instead, she slammed her fist against the Hulk's chest. He blinked down at her, green eyes focused on her face, his brow furrowed as he cocked his head slightly to one side.

"Hey," she snapped, slamming her fist against his chest again. "Let me down! I can't help you here!"

"Betty," the Hulk said, his voice soft and low and tenderer than she'd ever heard anything else from Banner, and her stomach twisted.

"Maria," she corrected, and she kept her own tone sharp. The same voice she used on her recruits. "And you don't carry Maria around! Put me down!"

His hand tightened slightly on her— it was all that was needed to take her air— and slowly, the Hulk released her. His hand lingered, blocking the next round of bullets, and she snatched her back-up gun from the holster on her leg to poke between those fingers and fire.

Nobody had said anything about reinforcements, and the Hulk roared all over again before he charged in after them. Maria was careful not to let herself be too relieved, not to let herself react too much at the whole situation. She could feel Natasha's eyes on her from across the building as she reloaded her gun, and she fired automatically, her body moving entirely on muscle memory.

It wasn't all that long before they had everyone cleared out, and the Hulk took one more look at her, his eyes locking with hers until her hand moved and they dropped down to the gun there. Then he tore off, and her head went back as she blew out a breath.

Too close for comfort, and when Clint came down to stand behind her— there was little point in chasing the Hulk, after all; the best they could do was send a chopper to stay far enough back that he wouldn't notice them but close enough that they would be able to find Banner whenever the change finally left him— she tilted her head slightly and raised an eyebrow.

"An arrow? You thought an arrow was going to help?"

Clint shrugged, spreading his hands wide. "At least it wasn't one that exploded."

"I will hurt you," Maria replied immediately, her voice sharp and severe. "Do not even joke about that. The next time something like that happens, you focus on your orders."

Clint raised an eyebrow and a little grin curved his lips. "You protective of him?"

"You could have gotten me killed." She didn't wait for his response, just waved her arm and shouted, "All right. Clean this place up. Remember, people, we were never here, right?"

The bustle was immediate, and she stalked out of the ruined warehouse, something in her still shaky. She reached up to rip her earpiece out and the moment she cleared the corner of the warehouse where no one could see her, she vomited. There was nothing in her stomach— she never ate before an op— but the heaving was uncomfortable, hurt, and when it was finally over, she shifted, leaning back to let her forehead rest against the warehouse. The hairs on her arm pricked, and she shoved herself up, her eyes snapping open in the same moment.

Natasha wasn't smiling as she walked in close. Maria swallowed back the bile still in her mouth, and she nodded slightly toward Black Widow.

"Widow," she said evenly, and Natasha didn't give her pleasantries as she leaned in close, her eyes sharp and entirely too clear for Maria's taste. There was no hiding anything from Natasha. Doubtless, there would be a perfectly written brief on Fury's desk before Maria even got on the plane home.

Maria's stomach churned at the thought because how the hell was she going to explain this?

"You look solid," Natasha finally said, and Maria's eyes focused on her, a frown curving her lips.

"I look what?"

"For someone who was so close to him," Natasha said, as though that clarified anything. ... Then again, maybe it did. She remembered the broken body of the hostile who had been the same proximity to the Hulk that Maria had been. She was certainly more solid than he was now.

"Lucky me," Maria retorted, and she straightened up. "Come on, we have a warehouse to secure."

Natasha's hand wrapped tightly around her arm, and Maria looked back at her.

"What, Widow?" she said and it was an effort to keep herself steady now. She was about sick of people grabbing her to keep her where they wanted her. The last person to do that before today had nearly lost their hand, and the urge was coming up hard to start that up again.

"You could have died," Natasha said slowly, and there was nowhere that Maria could look to escape those sharp eyes. Maria swallowed as Natasha stepped in closer to her, close enough now that Maria was fairly sure the Hulk would be able to smell them on one another. "You were supposed to stay with the other agents."

Maria's jaw clenched, and she removed her arm from Natasha's grip with a sharp jerk. "Yes. But I didn't. Die. Or stay with the other agents, and here we are, discussing things that are no longer a priority. We have a building to secure, Black Widow. I suggest we get to it."

She turned on her heel and left Natasha standing there, hoping vaguely that the other woman didn't notice what little had come out of Maria's stomach. It was a vain hope though, and she knew it. Likely, Natasha had stood right there and watched Maria retch. She wrinkled her nose at the thought, stormed back into the warehouse and focused on directing the clean-up and management of their new guests.

They were almost done by the time the helicopter brought Bruce Banner back, and Maria watched him stagger out of it, reaching up to rub his head as he looked at the wreckage he'd left behind. Doubtless, there was a swath of it through the city too. He grimaced a little as his fingers tightened in his hair, and Maria frowned as she realized he was bare but for his pants, which had been stretched well beyond use. She sighed, waved over an agent, and got them to bring her a spare set of clothes.

It was mostly assault gear, but it was clothes that he wouldn't have to hold up at the very least. She checked it all over and nodded. "Good work. Take this over to him, and then resume—" She cut herself off as she met her agent's expression, the too-wide eyes and panicked look on their face. She could feel a muscle in her own jaw jumping as she asked very slowly, "You are okay to take it over to Banner, are you not?"

"Uh... Y-yes, ma'am, it's just... I'm on detail with the hostiles—"

Maria blew out a breath as she waved the agent away. Then she picked up the gear and headed over to chopper, where Banner was sitting lightly on the edge. She put the stack of clothes in his hands.

"Here. Change. Director Fury will want to see you," she said firmly. It wasn't a request, and she had no plans to let Banner try to interpret it as one. He blinked up at her, took the clothes, and nodded faintly.

"Of course he does. ... Did I do...? I did. No point in asking, is there?" The smile on his face was sad, didn't reach his eyes, and Maria frowned slightly as she studied it.

She looked back to the warehouse, and then said, "Not all of it. Your fair share, sure, but not all of it. Change, Banner."

Banner nodded faintly, climbed on into the helicopter, and he stepped in the back where he was far less visible as he pulled on the clothes. She kept her own eyes on the warehouse and tried not to let herself compare how skinny he was with how muscled the Hulk had been. It seemed like all she could think of though was the tension of those muscles, how strong he'd felt under her touch.

How confused he'd been when she'd hit him.