you and I will be safe
rating: g-pg
characters: Maria Hill, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson
warnings: none
summary: They are driven to protect, to guard, to keep the world - and each other - safe. Three variations on a bodyguard AU.
author's note: For hufflepuffsneak, who requested "Maria/Sam, bodyguard AU." All titles from Taylor Swift's Safe and Sound.
you and I will be safe
darling, everything's on fire, pg
The reek of smoke and metal floods the car despite the best efforts of the A/C, soaking everything in the scent of destruction, of death; under the tires autumn leaves skitter across yellow lines as they fly past, rolling away the miles between the decimation of the mafia boss' mansion and the safety of evergreen-lined roads, small towns and anonymous places. He looks away from the highway to check on her, huddled in the passenger seat with his jacket pulled tight by white-knuckled fingers, and puts his arm around her hunched shoulders.
She closes her eyes, leaning into his touch, and tucks her nose into the jacket collar to breathe in Old Spice and sweat instead of her past burning away.
.
no one can hurt you now, g
"Remember that Chinese curse, may your life be interesting?" Maria asks, watching the enthusiastic crowd wait breathlessly for the announcement. "Because I think we're about to find out what they mean."
"Hey, if there's anyone that can keep the most honest man in the country safe for four years, it's us," Sam tells her, grinning as the dispatcher relays instructions to the Secret Service agents in attendance, and then, "Showtime."
The roar when Rogers confirms his victory in the presidential election washes over everyone, even tucked away as they are in the wings, and the look she gives her partner leaves him trying valiantly not to laugh.
.
you said "don't leave me here alone" , pg
"Get in the goddamn car and drive, Wilson," she grits, trying to staunch the bleeding with one hand and reload her Glock with the other.
"Not a chance," her witness shoots back, reaching into the backseat to grab the shotgun she keeps tucked under the floorboards, and even with the gunfire rattling all around them he appears calm, collected.
She would have used some choice words then if he hadn't pivoted to take out the fatigue-clad figure rising from behind a rusting oil drum, rifle in hand. He glances at her – and she nods, pushing herself back against the Ford's wheel well.
"Again, this is Marshal Hill, we have come under attack in the northwest sector, calling for immediate back-up," she repeats into the phone she picks up from the gravel-strewn pavement, coating the cracked case with blood.
When Sam takes the Glock from her, crouching to avoid the potshots taking out the window, he holds onto her hand for a heartbeat longer than he has to – and she is grateful to him, for it.
end