Agent Hill poked her head into Fury's office. "Sir, may I speak with you?"
"If you must." Fury sat back in his chair as Hill came in, shutting the door behind her. "Is Clements out there?"
"No, sir. She's getting coffee. I've been waiting for her to leave so that I could speak to you without her knowledge."
"So you could speak to me about her," Fury clarified.
"Yes, sir. You brought her to D.C. to join the Avengers. Should that not be made clear to her? She's been here for several weeks."
"Absolutely not," Fury said. "Dr. Xavier has been quite firm on this point. She will resist coercion at all costs—and her tolerance for pain will be considerably higher than any human's if she's provoked enough. She can tap into anything, anywhere if she tries hard enough. I'd like to have her try under desirable circumstances."
"I understand, sir, but I don't like it," Agent Hill said bluntly.
"Some of the agency's brighter minds be aware of her past by now," Fury said. "The necessary information is included in her file. I didn't take much trouble to hide it, and Xavier has granted secure access to all agents for a few weeks. I'm hoping that persuasion by her peers, so to speak, will be more effective than a direct order. Especially once the shit really hits the fan."
"And the shit will hit the fan?"
"Undoubtedly."
"I thought that there was little evidence that this particular species was hostile."
"Agent, you were the one who brought up the deaths in the meeting," Fury snapped. "Do you believe them to be a threat or not?"
"I'm not sure, sir," Agent Hill said reluctantly. "I've been reviewing the video footage, and they almost seem more…defensive than offensive."
"They came here, Agent."
"There is always the possibility that that was a mistake, sir. All the more reason to recruit Clements, to my mind: we can avoid unnecessary bloodshed if she can communicate with them somehow."
"There's always that possibility," Fury admitted. "I admire your defensive instincts, Hill. Lord knows this agency could stand to avoid bloodshed. It's good for our public image."
"And our liability checks."
Fury chuckled. "True. Dismissed, Agent. Thank you for speaking to me."
Hill nodded respectfully, and left. Emily poked in her head in less than a minute later.
"Sir, I'm sorry to have missed Agent Hill—is there anything you need me to denote or…?"
"No, Agent," Fury said firmly.
"With all due respect," Emily said with equal firmness, "I'm an intern, not one of your agents."
"For now," Fury muttered as she shut the door. Emily pretended that she hadn't heard him.
Steve encountered Emily in the hallway a few hours later. He was doing his best to treat her normally, but this was proving incredibly difficult. She was an undercover mutant, more or less, and he needed to respect that—but she unnerved him for other reasons, too.
He started when she came around the corner, deeply absorbed in a stack of paperwork. "Ma'am," he said nervously, stepping aside to let her pass.
She looked up and smiled at him. "You don't have to call me ma'am, Steve."
"Sorry, ma'am—sorry. It's just how I was raised."
"Me, too," she assured him. "Courtesy is a big deal where I come from. It's just…we're the same age, aren't we? Ma'am makes it sound like I'm older, or more important than you. And we both know that's not the case."
"If you say so," Steve conceded politely.
Emily sighed heavily. "I wish you weren't so formal with me," she said softly, and her dark eyes echoed her sentiment. "I'd like us to be friends, at the very least." Her face turned a very soft pink as soon as the words left her mouth.
At the very least? Steve wanted desperately for her to clarify what exactly that meant. His own face felt warm, as well. What was it about this girl? She was nothing like Peggy; nothing. Well, except for those big dark eyes. But Peggy's were strong and direct, where Emily's eyes tended toward kindness or aversion. He wished he knew why.
"I, um. What are you—busy weekend?"
She shook her head. "Not so much. I don't really know anybody around here yet."
"Well, I, ah—Sam's been saying that—you should come."
Emily laughed at his fumbling, but it wasn't an unkind laugh. Steve's face grew even warmer, and warmth blossomed in his chest, too. There was something about her laugh… "Whatever it is, I'd love to. Just let me know when."
"I promise I'm usually more, ah, articulate," Steve said, turning a bright red.
Emily waved this away with a hand, almost dropping her papers in the process. "Don't sweat it, Captain. We're all a little socially awkward. Besides," she finished as she headed down the hall, throwing a bright, but shy, smile over her shoulder, "it's cute."
"Cute," Steve whispered after she'd left. He frowned. "That must mean something else these days," he decided. "Puppies and babies are cute, not…"
"Fully grown super-soldiers?"
Steve turned to see Natasha watching him. "How long have you been standing there?" he demanded.
"Long enough." She approached him, a knowing smirk on her face. "She thinks you're cute."
"And that's….good."
"Very—as long as you think she's cute, too."
"Sam says she's 'cool.' Does cute mean something similar?"
Nat rolled her eyes. "You think she's pretty, don't you?"
"Um."
"You have no idea how to talk to women, do you." Steve remembered Peggy saying the same thing, and a felt a pang in his chest.
"I can talk to women," he said defensively. "Just not…in that context."
"Stark told me about your girl," Nat said. "Way back when. I'm sorry."
"There's nothing to be sorry about except a lost opportunity," Steve said bitterly.
"Well, how'd you do it then?"
Steve shook his head. "I don't know. There was so much else going on…there wasn't really time to be nervous."
Nat nodded. "I get that. Try to relax, Captain," she said, a hint of mockery in her voice. "She said you were cute. That's a start."
With that, she walked away.
"It's a start, but it's not very helpful," Steve said to the empty hallway.
