Disclaimer: Everything belongs to their rightful owner(s).
Pairings: developing Steve/Maria, hint Pepper/Tony, hint Bucky/Natasha/Clint.
Original Plot: When Maria had to babysit her niece and nephew for the weekend and take them to Disneyland (her brother made her promise), a few of the Avengers decided to tag along. Maria's shy barely two-year-old niece probably favoured Steve more than the former Commander would have liked.

Note: Just, entertain me. Viewing available on AO3.

your skin and bones (turn into something beautiful)

Maria Hill adored her brother, despite the mock and the lack of encouragement she bit out towards Carmichael Williams, because biological or not, she would have fought for Carmichael and Susanna all teeth and bones and nails 'till her dying breath, and this Steve knew when they sat on one of the benches in Disneyland, with a view of Tony trying to entertain Nathaniel, Hill's six-month-old nephew, with Pepper in his arm, stifling out a laughter; Nathaniel didn't appeared amused, his young brows furrowing together in a pinch of stubbornness that resembled too much of Hill, but Steve didn't point that out.

Bucky, Natasha and Clint was nowhere to find, but Steve suspected that Clint had somehow challenged Bucky ― who was still trying to adjust on being just Bucky, and not the highly trained assassin he was ― to ride a roller coaster; Steve also suspected that Natasha wouldn't approve of that, but Clint had somehow always managed to get under Bucky's skin, making him do stuff from chores to climbing up a building, a few things even the Black Widow couldn't get in the way of, muttering something about boys and stupidity and competitiveness.

Steve held his comment, but was glad the team was getting along with his long-lost best friend.

There's a toddler in his arm, Hill's barely two-year-old niece, trying to sleep despite the screams of giddy children all around them and Hill was besides him, and they were alone, and there were frames of pictures in her hands, as well as bottle of coke and fries on her laps. She claimed she was starving, but the way she ate them didn't appear that she was. Steve hushed April (the niece) in his arms when she moved, pressing her young face further onto his chest and snuggled.

This wasn't where he expected to spend his weekends at ― Disneyland, out of all places ― but it was nearly impossible once Tony set his mind into something, especially when he refused to let Hill go that easily once she declared she wasn't free to assist him on Spain business or other. And it didn't help when Clint was immediately on board with the idea ― an Avenger's day-off, he said ― immediately encouraging the rest of the group to go (Banner was in Washington for a study, Thor was currently visiting his home-planet).

"She likes you," Hill said, giving a side-way glance towards the nearly-asleep April, and though she tried to hide it well, Steve thought her left eye might have twitched in jealousy.

"You said I looked like his grandfather." Steve reminded her, daring himself to give her a gentle smile, expecting to break the wall of formality she always put whenever she was with the Avengers, even if they were out of their uniforms.

"You do," she nodded, almost a hum, and chewed on a piece of fries. "A spitting image. Although, of course, her grandfather is actually, well, old."

If he was Tony, he would have cracked a mean joke on how Hill actually knew humour. Fortunately, he wasn't, so Steve settled with a bigger smile, and prided himself on the knowledge that she at least didn't try to cut their conversation short oh-so-obviously. She was, despite what he's been told and nearly convinced, more than her title and nicknames told her to be.

"I'm sorry if she troubles you." Hill said again, this time lower, but wasn't meeting his eyes still.

"No. She doesn't trouble me. None of you are," He told her, squinting his eyes against the sinking sun, nodding his head. "I'm happy we're here."

She glanced at him this time, serious heavy in her expression, but it didn't waver him. He gave out a warm expression, if only it could settle any of her raging nerves, which it did, when she sighed second afterwards, her shoulders slumped just slightly. But only slightly.

"Let me take her," she pushed the fries away, and Steve dropped his gaze to the toddler only to realise that she had indeed have fallen asleep.

"No, no. I could―"

"Rogers."

"Hill." He pressed on, closed his eyes and shook his head once. "Maria." He didn't wait around to see her approval of his usage on her given name when he continued, face pinched in calm determination. "I can carry her. Don't worry."

"She's not light." She argued weakly, knowing her point won't stick when she winced at her own response.

"She's not heavy either," Steve had carried men and stuff more heavier than April were, but he wasn't about to say that. It won't be right, at least he thought, not with her. "She'll be fine."

Hill eventually sighed, a gesture which told him she won't argue, and nodded her head. One hand extended to tuck away messy curls of brown hair, and brushed it from April's small face as it fell everywhere from her little eyelashes to her lips. If Steve squinted hard enough, he thought, he might even see Maria in there, or how he imagined her to be; calmer, softer, but only in moments he wouldn't expect her to be.

"Thank you," she said, calm.

"Your welcome," he whispered, because this was a moment he thought - one moment he won't break and interrupt.

You don't have moments with Maria Hill, not one out of clarity, not one when it's this peaceful. Steve thought that it's good it happened to him. It was good that he'll be out of this situation to relive it in his mind, that Hill was capable of being just as gentle as them, just as tough as she was when she's on the job. Steve was glad that she's here, in general.

He's glad that he's gotten to know her this well, it made him feel better for all the times that he didn't when he could, when he only saw her as the disapproving former Commander towards the idea of them, the Avengers, the idea of him. It made him feel, well, just, you know, good.

"Tell me more about your siblings," he said, carefully, because he wanted to learn more, and he liked it when she told stories. She didn't do hand gestures, nor did she use voices, but there were real emotions even when she lacked the tone, and Steve really did enjoy hearing what had happened during the times she must have considered were her happy moments.

So, she did, one word after the other: there wasn't much to tell, and she liked to keep most of her life story to herself and this Steve understood but what she shared, he'll treasure. He told his thank you's, she said there's no need.

"I'm glad I could entertain you." She sounded sarcastic, but she might be smiling.

He grinned. "It passes time."

"We should wake her before the firework," she said, eyes glancing to April, and there's a drool of saliva running down from the corner of his mouth to his jacket. Maria made a face, and he might have chuckled.

"You should clean that stain up."

He agreed, and she naturally took April away from him. He's made sure the girl didn't wake when they exchanged her, while Hill looked at the stain. "I'll be back in a minute." He excused himself to the bathroom, and began to walk away.

"Steve." She called, and Steve took a moment to realise it was her who called after him, his name. He turned around, and there's a small smile on her face, a grateful one. "I'll wait here."

He smiled, and nodded. "I know."

And he did.

(When they returned back with the team, Natasha informed him that Clint had been making out with Princess Merida after telling her she's a fraud when she claimed she's a good archer, Tony seemed more relaxed than he was a few days ago, Nathaniel bonded awkwardly with Bucky when he said his metal arm reminded him of cartoon character he favoured so much, and Pepper didn't mind so much that she's out of the office.)

It was, he decided, not a bad day after all.

(He thinks, secretly, Maria agreed.)