A/N: Well, here we are with chapter four. Not sure I have much else to say on the matter except this is Maria's POV. :)
Hope you enjoy it.
Please R&R.
When Maria heard Mick Jagger's voice singing in her ear, she knew it was time to more than face the music. She'd known she'd have the hangover to deal with this morning, but added to that was the terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach worrying what Steve Rogers thought of her now. What had she been thinking anyway, letting him into this apartment last night? She remembered she had thought he'd come to argue with her over the op. Instead he'd brought alcohol and told her he was making a delivery and then he'd smiled that annoyingly affable half-grin of his and she had let him in. Not only that, she drank with him and, if her memory wasn't lying to her, she vividly recalled that there had been hand-holding involved.
She rolled over and slapped her hand on her alarm. She remained under the covers a moment letting the smell of coffee permeate her mind until she could convince herself to get out of bed. But as she did so, she heard a noise from the kitchen. Her mind immediately kicked into auto-pilot as her adrenalin pushed her fully awake. She carefully slid open the drawer of her nightstand to remove her gun, then pulled it under the pillow and checked the chamber, feeling for it instead of looking at it so the sound wouldn't carry. She clicked the lock off the safety and quietly slipped out of the bed and took soft steps to the bedroom door. Maria was at the door when the realization hit her that she didn't even recall getting into the bed last night. It was a stupid thought to have but it did calm her slightly. Putting her to bed sounded like something Steve Rogers would do; however, staying afterwards didn't.
She could tell by the noises that the kitchen door was open so she cautiously slid along the wall of the living room until she could come full around to the kitchen. She could also tell from the noise that whoever was in the room, was at the stove. Cooking eggs? She quickly turned into the doorway, with her gun held firmly pointed at…Steve Rogers' back.
When he turned she was only slightly amused by his surprise.
"Damn, Rogers," she exclaimed. "I could have shot you."
He swallowed down whatever fear he might have felt before he responded.
"I'm sure I would have recovered," he said.
She allowed herself a smirk.
"Not from where I was going to shoot," she told him and let her eyes drift down between his legs as she set the glock on the counter next to her. When she looked back she saw his eyes were wide with concern and relief and Maria couldn't stop the laugh that came to her throat at the sight. She sobered slightly as her laughter seemed to bring a smile to his face.
'Pretty damned presumptuous of you, Hill,' she told herself. 'He's only relieved that you didn't shoot him.'
She schooled her face and wondered why that even mattered then sat down at the table where he already had two place settings laid out.
"Didn't you sleep?" she asked as he turned back to the eggs which were now ready and he put them onto another plate before setting them down on the table between the two settings.
"A little," he said.
"Where?" she asked. If he said the floor, Maria was going to be mortified.
"On the sofa," he said and tried another smile at her as he put some scrambled eggs on her plate.
She picked up the pepper and shook some onto the food. Steve placed a glass of water at the top right of her place setting before finally sitting down and serving himself some of the eggs.
"Are these all the eggs?" she asked.
"Yeah, sorry," he blushed. "I can get you some more and bring them by this afternoon."
She shook her head and took one bite of the eggs.
"By tonight I'll be back in New York, or at least on my way," she said after she swallowed.
"But you were only here a week," he said.
Maria looked pointedly at Steve. He had to understand where they stood, just because they'd shared drinks one night didn't mean there was anything more than a professional relationship. But his reaction to her look shook her for a moment. She didn't want to be cruel and his face showed her that was what he thought.
'The devil with it,' she thought. 'I can't worry what insubordinates think about me.'
"I don't see how any of it is your business," she said, her voice cool and steady.
His face became more reserved, or at least in as much as Steve Rogers could hide his feelings. And Maria felt like she'd kicked a puppy.
"It's not, I'm sorry," he said, and Maria was sure she heard pain in his voice, maybe even a little regret.
No, that would just be stupid. Why would Captain America regret not being friends with the likes of Maria Hill, Ice Queen of SHIELD?
"Why are you here, Rogers?" she asked, her head slowly starting to throb as the adrenaline that had pushed her out of bed so quickly abated.
"I keep asking myself that question," he told her, and the slight smile on his face let her know he was attempting a joke. "But since you all are the ones who thawed me, maybe you should have the answer."
Maria cursed herself as she felt the corners of her lips twitch up involuntarily.
"I just wanted to make sure you got a good breakfast and made it to work on time after last night," he said.
Maria gave him a dubious look.
"It's a good thing you're such a great soldier, Rogers," she said. "SHIELD certainly has no use for spies who can't lie about something this simple."
"Sorry, ma'am," he said, but he didn't look it. "I never was very good at lying."
She looked at him a few seconds before she said something she immediately thought incredibly stupid.
"That's not a bad thing, you know."
Oh, gads, what was she thinking? Now he was smiling a bigger smile at her. She was supposed to be giving the guy the brush off, which seemed weird since all they'd done was drink together.
And hold hands. That thought induced another internal groan.
Her headache was getting worse; though, fortunately, the eggs were settling on her stomach nicely. She leaned forward to rest her head in her free hand while she stabbed another bite of the eggs.
"I'm sorry about last night," he said quietly.
Maria forced herself to continue to lift the eggs to her mouth and then open it and chew them down. He was sorry he'd come to her. Of course, he was. Why wouldn't he be? She should never have let him in. She knew she was a lousy, emotional drunk. The number of times she'd ended up blubbering to Coulson over the years was her proof. And she'd gone ahead and let Captain Freaking America into the apartment while she was drunk. Of all the stupid things she'd done in her life, this had to top them all.
"I wish I hadn't over-reacted about the mail," he continued. "We were having such a good time up until then."
Maria blinked her eyes several times in confusion before she looked up at him.
"What?"
"When you told me that SHIELD had mail that belonged to me," he explained. "I should have simply asked you to clarify. I shouldn't have just assumed you were involved, that it was your decision. I really messed everything up last night."
Maria narrowed her eyes. She didn't know what he was getting at and she couldn't help but be suspicious. It was ridiculous for him to blame himself. He was Captain America, he didn't mess things up. But she had to close her eyes now because her headache was far worse and she didn't want to sort this out at the moment. Steve stood and left the room. She heard him in the bathroom and, from the sounds of things, and based on how he was behaving, in less than a minute he would be back with…
"Here, you need some aspirin," he said as he set the bottle in front of her upon his return to the kitchen.
She opened one eye and he held her challenging stare.
"You don't trust easily," he said.
Maria was glad for the hangover, it made it easier to simply glare than to give away the surprise she felt. What did he care? Maria dutifully took the aspirin and they finished their eggs in silence. Then, to her annoyance, he argued with her over the coffee.
"It's really not good for a hangover," he said.
"Oh, and the man who can't get drunk would know all about it," she scoffed.
"I can read, and I've read about it," he told her.
She furrowed her brow in confusion.
"Why would you read about something like that?" she asked.
"It's in one of the SHIELD manuals," he told her.
Maria scowled at him, mildly embarrassed that she'd forgotten that bit of information. She was silent a moment then stood to head to the shower.
"When I get out of the shower there had better be coffee still in that pot," she grumbled and tried to ignore the hint of amusement in his eyes.
She walked to the bath, closed the door and clicked the lock over. Why hadn't she simply said that when she got out of the shower Steve should be gone? Maria shook her head. He had done what he'd stayed to do, she supposed, apologize for something that wasn't even his fault. Maria was certain when she got out of the shower, he'd be long gone.
But, not for the first or last time with Steve Rogers, she was wrong. She thought how inaccurate her assessment of him had been as she stood awkwardly for several seconds after she opened the bathroom door to find him sitting on the sofa turning a bright shade of crimson. Maria was glad she'd gone ahead and opted to wrap the towel around her after she'd finished drying her hair or this would have been more than awkward.
She retreated into the bedroom and as she dressed she thought that Rogers must be more desperate for company than she'd thought. The line, "What's a nice guy like you doing waiting around for a girl like me," went through her mind as a comment when she exited, ready for work. He stood from his seat on the sofa and picked up a mug from the coffee table to hand to her.
"Two sugars, right?" he asked as he held out the mug to her.
Maria glanced down at the small table that held his mug of coffee and thought that the only thing missing was the damned morning paper. It was so terrifyingly domestic that she had the urge to lose her legendary cool.
"I overstepped, didn't I?" he asked.
She looked up at him, and he did appear sincerely apologetic.
"More than a little," she told him.
They were silent for a few seconds before Maria stepped over and took the coffee from him and waved him to sit as she did herself.
"Look, I," she wanted to say something nice. Obviously, Steve Rogers was a very nice guy and she had the feeling that he would do this for any one he considered a comrade in arms. But she didn't want to encourage this type of behavior. There had to be lines, even if SHIELD didn't have strict policies on the matter.
"You've been very nice, Rogers," she said. "But you can't just stay the night and fix me breakfast."
Maria stopped, thinking how bad that sounded.
"I just mean to say this can't be something we do," she said.
Steve nodded hesitantly before replying.
"Do you have someone else to drink with?" he asked.
"I don't see what that has to do with anything," she told him.
"I just thought that if you don't, and I obviously don't, that, maybe, sometime," he stopped and cleared the emotion from his throat. He'd again managed to make her feel as if she was kicking a puppy. Before she could even consider the wisdom of it she replied.
"That would be fine," she said.
He looked up at her with a small smile on his face, and Maria found herself feeling glad that it reached his eyes.
"You just have to make sure I don't get drunk when we do," she said. "I'm far too emotional when I'm drunk."
She admitted it to excuse her behavior the night before, but she hated doing it.
"I thought you were going to say it was because you talk so much when you're drunk," he said, and Maria shook her head at the look in his eyes. The man liked to tease far more than she was comfortable with, only she was comfortable with it this time and she almost hated herself for it.
"You have an unfair advantage, Rogers, in that you can't get drunk at all," she told him.
"Well, it's probably a good thing," he said. "I seem to be perfectly capable of making a complete ass out of myself without any alcohol being involved."
Maria couldn't help but chuckle at his self-deprecation. Maybe being drinking buddies with Rogers wouldn't be such a bad thing after all.