AN: That little voice that tells me stories has been nagging me again. Clearly, I'm a fan of Maria Hill. When I first considered writing and Avenger fanfic, the plan was for it to be Hill/Coulson. I didn't like the way it was going, so I put it away and started with a clean page and found a Hill/Fury story pouring out (Risks). I decided I liked it, it got some decent reviews, so I figured I'd focus on that. Then, I read a really sweet Hill/Rogers story and the voice in my head came up with a story for them (Evening Stroll). I wrote that, kind of thinking it would be a one shot, but then it got some very positive feedback and I found some more ideas for this duo in the depths of my mind. I figured I can handle two stories, right? Then, real life threw some curveballs and I found that writing wasn't a priority any more. No ideas, no desire. Things stabilized, and both started to come back. The Hill/Coulson idea started bugging me again, so I wrote a one shot for them, more focused on friendship (Agent for Sale) and went back to my other two stories. But that wasn't good enough for the story-telling voice. It keeps telling me I can handle three stories. I decided to make a deal with it. I would write the first part of this, a prologue of sorts, and see what readers think. So, here it is.

The Complications of Emotions

It's just not fair.

Some people are always breaking the rules, doing whatever they want and always getting away with it. Tony Stark, for example. He has never met a rule he didn't want to break, or at least bend. And Fury. He's probably bent more rules than he's followed. Not only do they not pay the price, they usually come out smelling like roses.

Me? I always follow the rules.

Everyone knows that Agent Maria Hill is strictly 'by the book' where the rules are concerned.

Okay, maybe not 'always' or I wouldn't be in this situation, but at least 95 percent of the time. I follow orders, obey the rules. I should get a pass when I don't, right?

I've heard people talking. They say that I need to relax a little, go with the flow a little more.

Well, I did. I followed my feelings. Allowed my emotions to dictate my actions. And guess where that got me?

Sitting in my bathroom glaring at a little plastic stick that I just peed on.

My glare has a bit of a reputation around here. They say it can make a person forget about even thinking about doing the wrong thing. It's even been referred to as a deadly weapon. I figure as long as I keep glaring, that second blue line won't dare show itself.

Maybe, just maybe, I will get a pass this time.

Stress can really effect your body, right? Throw off your cycles.

And there has certainly been plenty of stress in my life these last few weeks.

I mean, really? Think about it.

A mythological being leading an army of alien bugs in an attempt to take over the planet.

The man I love being murdered by said mythological being.

The city being virtually destroyed by said mythological being and alien bug army.

A team, and I use that term very loosely, of super human beings stepping in to save the day and rescue us all. Fury considers using them to be a calculated risk and one worth taking. I'm not so sure. Do we really want to be dependent of such a small, powerful group to rescue us?

While I will admit things worked out this time, I can't help but wonder about next time.

Because there will be a next time. We are aware of many threats waiting out there that the general public knows nothing about. What really scares me is the ones that even we don't know about.

What if Fury's 'Avengers' can't handle it or worse, if they turn on us? We need to be prepared to handle things on our own. As humans.

Then there's everything that happened after the battle.

The clean up.

The meetings and interrogations.

The blame game.

Funerals and good-byes.

Phil.

Stressful, right?

And I really haven't been eating or sleeping very well. That can really mess up your body, too, can't it?"

I suddenly realize that my eyes have drifted closed as I thought. I send up a brief prayer as I slowly open one, then the other, fearfully glancing at the stick clutched in my hand.

'Damn.'

Sure enough, while my eyes were closed, a second blue line had appeared.

I really hate blue lines.

I grab for the directions. Maybe I read them wrong.

Okay.

Deep breath.

'One circle, one square,' I read.

Check.

'Circle is the control. A blue line here indicates the test is working.'

Circle, blue line: Check.

'Square is the result. A blue line here indicates that the test has detected the pregnancy hormone. No line indicates the hormone is not present in detectable levels.'

I let my gaze wander back to the stupid little plastic stick.

Stupid blue line is still there. If anything, it looks even darker and bluer than before.

'Probably defective,' I tell myself. 'I'll stop at the store and pick up another one tomorrow.'

My eyes land on the bathroom counter where four other used tests sit.

Four other positive tests.

I sigh in resignation.

Another test would be a waste of money and time.

Nagging exhaustion, random bouts of nausea when I don't eat, two missed periods and four positive pregnancy tests leave me with only one possible conclusion.

Pregnant.

This is a complication that I certainly don't need in my life.

I could get rid of it and no one would ever have to know.

Tentatively, I rest a hand on my still flat belly.

"Now for the big question," I whisper softly. "Who's your daddy?"

The end?

So, what's your verdict? Do you want this to continue or do I leave this as a one shot? It's fate is in your hands. Reviews positive and negative gratefully accepted.

Hope to have another chaper of Stroll up this weekend. Maybe another part of Risks, too, if I get really motivated.