Stepping on the soap box for a moment. I will probably post this note on all three of the stories I have going at the moment, so if you read them all, you can read this 3 times. Or skip it 3 times. Or read it 1 or 2 times and skip it the other. I just need to say this. I have felt very supported here, so this is not a response to any personal experience. There are tens of thousands of stories and writers on this site. There are many more readers. There are many different styles of story and writing. You can find intricately plotted action stories, pure fluff stories, horror stories, erotic stories (hetro or homosexual), romantic stories (again, hetro or homosexual), stories that make you think, laugh, or say 'huh?'...you get the idea. Most readers have certain types of stories that they prefer. Likewise, writers will usually have a certain type of story that they prefer to write or feel they write better. While I enjoy reading a story with an involved plot and well planned details, that's not the type of story I write. It's not my strength. What I write is usually more character driven than plot driven. Those who usually read my stuff have probably figured this out about me and new readers can probably do so pretty quickly. Writing is a fun release for me. I really appreciate that the feedback I have received has been supportive and positive. Some fellow writers that I have gotten to 'know' though, haven't been so fortunate. One was even driven to remove stories because someone (anonymously) made negative, downright hateful comments about not liking the writer's style. Another blasted an author because they didn't like a plot point. It's fine to say that something is not to your taste, but you don't need to be hateful about it. And if you do feel the need, at least have the decency to log in so the author can contact you privately if they would like to do so. Writing is a lot of work and putting something out there for public perusal is a rather scary thing. I'm not saying don't criticize, because constructive criticism gives a writer something to think about. I'm just saying, please be gentle. Writers on here are not professionals. We write because we want to share our ideas. I don't expect everyone to like everything I post here. I can respect that. You can tell me you don't like it and why, without being cruel. You can even simply ignore it and continue exploring the site. There are many talented writers here as well as many struggling writers. Find something you like. I can pretty well guarantee it's on here somewhere. Thank you for your time. Now leaving the soapbox.

Sorry. Needed to get that off my chest.

Weekly update time! I still don't own anything Marvel or Avenger related (acutally, I think I have a couple of the Iron Man novels and my son may have a few Avenger toys, but you know what I mean). I'm just enjoying playing with the characters for a bit.

boysmom5: Thanks. Glad you liked.

Qweb: I hate it when you read ahead like that. It's especially disturbing when most of it is still in my head.

Guest 4/20: Thank you. I love the combination of tough and vulnerable in Maria as well. It's so much fun to write.

Sandy-wmd: As always, thank you for your feedback. The interrogation scene plays a part in this chapter as well. I liked the observation room scene as well. I laughed some writing it too. Hope it gave the kids as giggle, too.

Leonie1988: Thank you. Here's more. I hope you enjoy it as well.

Guest 4/21: Glad you like my view of Nick. Clearly, I can't decide who I like her with better either. I'm glad you're reading and enjoying my tales.

nightmoon1023: You're so sweet. I love writing this and appreciate knowing you're enjoying reading it. Glad you like Ella, too. I'm always a little nervous about inserting original characters.

Nova Fearnewood: Gracias!

Bakugan 59: Here's your update. Hopefully it will live up to your expectations.

Tranquil Winds: I'm so glad you're still enjoying my stories. Your reviews are always so sweet. I always love hearing from you.

LoverofDogs94: I should probably apologize to your cat, but I won't. He probably needed to be woken up anyway. You are so kind in your reviews.

Welcome to all the new followers and favorites. I'm glad you like my writing. An extra special thank you to those who posted reviews. You make me smile more than you could ever know.

Thanks for your patience. On to the story.

Complications 9

"Your resignation," Fury restated. "You don't want to work for SHIELD anymore?"

"I WANT to," I told him. "I just can't."

He studied me. "Too traumatized?"

It seemed he was deliberately misunderstanding me. "No, sir," I tried again. "I am physically unable to perform the job that I was hired to do," I told him. "I'm not as strong or as fast as I was before and my aim is off. I can't hit the broad side of a barn anymore."

"You're exaggerating, Maria," Phil commented. "You could certainly hit the barn."

"Could even hit the barn window," Fury added.

"Maybe not the spider building a web in the corner of the window," Phil conceded.

I sighed. "But SHIELD doesn't need a whole lot of barn windows taken out, do they?"

"No," the director agreed. He picked up my ID folder, and studied it, glancing up at me. "Have a seat," he directed, nodding towards the chair in front of his desk.

I started to refuse, but Phil cleared his throat, a small smile on his face. I sat, managing to resist the temptation to bark. I did, however, stick my tongue out at him, silently panting.

Fury didn't look up. "What do you plan to do with yourself next?" he asked.

I shrugged. "I don't really know," I admitted. "I haven't given it a whole lot of thought."

That was a lie. I had been pondering that very question ever since my talk with Dr. Reed. I had never thought about a life outside of SHIELD before.

"I figure I've got some time to decide," I told them. "I've got enough savings that I don't have to find work immediately."

"Prison warden?" Phil suggested.

Fury considered, then nodded. "Investigative reporter?"

"Bouncer?"

"Kindergarten teacher?"

"What did those poor kids do to deserve her?" my friend asked.

I found myself getting a little irritated at their attitudes. Neither seemed particularly bothered by my impending departure. I thought that Phil was a pretty good friend and would be at least a little upset. I had even imagined that Fury might have a little bit of a soft spot for me. Apparently neither would miss me when I was gone.

"Maybe I'll just relax and do nothing for a while," I told them.

Phil snorted. "You'd go nuts in less than a week," he replied.

"Not really your problem, is it?" I asked, interrupting their banter. Perhaps they heard the irritation in my voice, because they both looked at me, Phil looking slightly guilty.

Fury went back to his study of my identification for several more minutes. Finally, he sighed, turning his chair to feed the small plastic rectangle into the shredder beside his desk.

When I started to stand, he stared me down. "You haven't been dismissed, Agent Hill."

I settled back, glancing at Phil. His face revealed nothing. Fury picked up my letter, leaning back in his chair as he read through it. When he finished, he grunted, meeting my gaze as he shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Agent Hill, but I can't accept this."

Before I could respond, he turned again, once more putting the shredder to work.

"Sir," I protested.

"No, Agent Hill, you owe me." He leaned across the desk, fixing a steady glare on my face. "SHIELD pulled your sorry ass out of the juvenile justice system. We gave you everything. A place to live, food, medical care, and education and training available to very few. We gave you a job."

"You're right," I countered. "I do owe SHIELD. For all of that. For keeping me alive. I know my treatment hasn't been cheap. I owe you the very best. But my best just isn't good enough anymore."

"You're still improving," he said. "I see the reports."

"I am," I agreed, "but I'm never going to be back to the level I was before. Dr. Reed knows that. You both know it." I looked at them. Phil was busy studying his fingernails. Fury met my stare. "I saw it in your face when I first came to. I wasn't sure what it meant then, but now I understand. You had seen the damage. You knew I wouldn't come back from that completely."

He finally nodded acknowledgment. "I'm guessing that he showed you your records."

"He did," I told him.

"And told you that he didn't expect you to make it."

I nodded. "That I shouldn't have survived." I considered for a moment, suddenly struck by something. "So, why did I?" I asked him.

"Because you're too stubborn to give up," Fury responded.

"No," I shook my head. "It was more than that. Dr. Reed said that, but he also said that the two of you wouldn't give up, either. That you authorized some pretty extreme measures to keep me alive." I studied the two men. "Why would you do that?"

Neither answered. I suddenly had another thought. "He said that some of the treatments they used were still experimental. Is that what it was? You needed a human guinea pig to try this stuff out on? Someone that no one would be holding you accountable for if something bad happened?"

Phil looked at me. "I told you when I first brought you in that I'd always have your back, Maria. You may not have been murdered and floating in the river, but you needed someone to look out for you. Since I had your medical power of attorney, I was in a position to do that for you. And I've gotten used to having you around. I wasn't going to let you leave me without a fight." he admitted.

With a quick glance at Fury, he continued. "Besides, SHIELD owed you, too."

I frowned, confused. "What do you mean?"

The man at the desk shot Phil an irritated glance, then looked back at me.

"You've been with us half your life, Maria. You've always given one hundred percent. No matter what was asked of you, you have always given us the very best you could do. Even when you thought the job was beneath you."

I started to protest.

"Even when the job WAS beneath you," he continued. "You did it anyway, to the very utmost of your ability. I've always thought that the way a person handles the small, seemingly unimportant things says more about them than the way they handle the big, important things."

Before I could get too emotional, he tacked on. "And, like you said, it was an opportunity to do some real life testing. See if you could survive the treatment."

"And I did. But not completely. I'm still broken." I held out my hands, showing them the trembling. "I'm never going to be reliable out in the field." After a few moments, I continued. "You know, Natasha would probably be better out there than I ever was anyway."

Phil looked slightly shocked, but I could tell that the thought wasn't a new one for Fury.

"You really think we could trust her?" he asked.

"Eventually," I nodded. "I wouldn't give her the passwords to the top secret stuff right now...though she could probably hack into them if she set her mind to it...but in time. Bring her in slowly. Show her some trust. Not all at once. She'd be suspicious of that. But step by step. Pair her up with Barton. Like I said before, she seems to trust him. He's your 'in' with her."

Fury nodded. "Continue."

"Add her to Phil's stable, let him handle her."

"Why me?" he asked, surprised.

"Because you already handle Clint and he trusts you. That will help your credibility with her. And you're not as likely to be swayed by her pretty face as some would be," I told him.

"You sure got to me, Maria."

"Yeah, but that's my sparkling personality," I countered.

"You do know that there would be a whole lot of resistance to bringing her aboard," Fury interrupted.

I raised an eyebrow. "And that would be a problem for you, Sir?"

"Hardly," he confirmed with a snort.

"Just like you wouldn't have a problem with people wondering why you're keeping a field agent who can't do the job anymore?"

"There are other jobs you can do, Maria," Phil threw in.

"Openings on the janitorial staff?" I asked sarcastically. "Might be a good idea. I could use the broom when I need help with my balance."

Before either could answer, I shook my head. "It just wouldn't work. It would be too hard to be around here with everyone knowing that I was just here out of some sort of pity."

"You think me capable of pity?" Fury queried. "I should probably check with the doctor to see if delusional thoughts are a side effect of your treatment." He leaned forward again, fixing that intense stare on me. "Let me make myself perfectly clear. I want you for much more than your body."

I saw Phil's lips twitch as he fought a smile. Fury closed his eye and shook his head. "I realized as that was coming out of my mouth how bad that sounded. My point is that when Warren brought you to our attention, it wasn't because of your physical abilities and prowess. We gave you that after you came to us. You caught his attention because of your mind. He saw abilities there that couldn't be taught. If you recall, when I offered you a job, you got to pick your field. I've never made that offer to anyone else. Usually, a person is offered a specific position, or maybe a choice between two or three. I never had an applicant qualified in so many different areas."

I shook my head. "Maybe back then, but not any more." I tapped the side of my head. "That's damaged, too. It doesn't work like it used to. I forget things."

"Don't we all?" Fury asked.

"Not me," I replied. "I used to remember everything. If I saw it or heard it or read it, I remembered it forever. Now, I've got holes. Gaps." I was getting upset just thinking about it. "Things just aren't there sometimes. I miss appointments because I fished. That never happened." I shook my head, hearing my voice starting to shake. "And words, Sir." I found myself fighting to calm my mind. That was when things got the worst. "Sometimes, I want to say something but it comes out wrong. Especially when I'm tired. Upset. I mess up. I shake. I limp."

"So, deal with it," the director told me. "One of your strengths has always been your ability to adapt. You forget things? Do what the rest of us have always had to do. Make notes. Get a calendar. Set up a reminder program on your mobile. I use one. So does Phil. We can help you find one to meet your needs. You have problems when you get tired and frustrated? Keep up your physical therapy. Learn how to control your body again. Do some research. Find a way to manage your stress and anger. You've proved to me that the mind I need is still there."

I looked at him. "How? By telling you I fished things instead of forgetting them? By stuttering and shaking through that whole speech?"

"By telling me you saw doubt on my face when you first came back to us. I'm not an easy man to read, Agent Hill. Then there was the whole situation with our little spider. I know you had read the file we had on her, but that was months ago. Yesterday, it took you less than five minutes to figure out that she was playing us."

I shook my head, not understanding.

"I told you that she had given us a few names, but nothing important. You said, 'just enough to keep us from giving up.'"

I nodded.

"Our people had just figured out that she was stringing us along. Feeding us little pieces every time she sensed we were about to take drastic measures. And you were the one who gave us the key to her. Not flattery or threats, or fear, but honest respect for who she is and what she has to offer us. Asking her what she wanted to be called. An approach that trained interrogators and psychologists hadn't considered, but you saw right off the bat. You still have that, Hill. You still see the details, the tiny clues that other people miss."

I considered that. I had never really considered that to be a special skill. It was simply a part of who I was. Of how I got through. How I stayed alive.

He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a packet of papers, sliding it across the desk to me. I picked it up and looked at it, finding a new ID with a new picture of myself.

Maria Hill. Administration.

"I'm still trying to figure out the best place to put you. For now, I'm thinking of a utility type position. We can assign you to special projects, plug you into different departments when needs arise. You'll report directly to Zablowski. Get you set up with an office of your own."

Somewhat shocked, I nodded, studying my new papers.

"One small mistake here, Sir," I told him.

His eyebrow lifted in question.

"My clearance level is wrong. I'm a 6. This lists me as an 8."

"That's correct," he tells me. "You were a level 6. You were scheduled to be bumped up to a 7 soon, so I just bumped you up again. Some of the projects I have in mind for you require a higher clearance level, and since I want you on them, you now have a higher clearance." He looked at me, daring me to protest. "And I realize that some people will have a problem with that and I am fully prepared to deal with that as well."

I looked from him to Phil, noticing the sparkle in his eyes. Bastard had known all along.

"You've been assigned to new, larger quarters, since you'll be spending more time here. You can take the next couple of days to get things settled, then report to Zablowski for your first assignment. I do want to make sure that you still make time for your therapy. You may not ever get back to where you were physically, but you're still improving and I want to see just how far you can go."

"Yes, Sir," I agreed.

"Any other questions?"

I shook my head.

"Then get the hell out of here," he told me. "I've got work to do."

Rising, I gathered my things together, retrieving my sidearm from his desk. "Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir."

"I'm not exactly doing you any favors here, Hill," he told me. "You're getting this opportunity because you're the best candidate and you're going to work your butt off."

"Sounds perfect," I told him, smiling at Phil who was holding the door open for me. He followed me out into the hall where I shoved him into the wall.

"You knew about this plan of his, didn't you?" I demanded.

He held his hands up in surrender. "I didn't know all the details, but I knew he was working on something. He has floated several ideas by me in the last few months. He knew that you wouldn't listen to anyone tell you that you couldn't work the field anymore. That was something you had to decide on your own. Truthfully, I think he's had plans of this sort in the works for you even before your shooting. He thought you might tire of what you were doing and he wanted to have other options ready to keep you around."

"Why?"

"Like he told you, your mind is really special. You have a unique way of looking at things and come up with solutions that other people might miss. You have no idea how valuable you are."

Embarrassed and unsure how to respond to that, I punched him on the arm.

"You available to help me move again?" I asked him.

"I could probably find the five minutes or so that would require," he answered.

"I've picked up a few more things since the last move," I told him. "It's amazing the things you can find in those little bazaars when you're traveling."

"Let me guess. More books?"

I nodded sheepishly. He knew me well.

"Even so, I doubt it will take more that fifteen minutes to get your stuff from one place to another, especially if we can get Clint to help."

"If he wants to."

Phil laughed. "I have little doubt he'll turn you down if he's here."

We were walking down the hall and I looked sideways at him.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged. "Just seems like the two of you are spending quite a bit of time together," he commented.

"He's a good guy. We have a lot in common and he's easy to talk to. Or not talk to. He didn't know me before, so I don't wonder if he's comparing me now to me before."

"Do you worry about that a lot?" I could hear the concern in his voice.

"With some people. I see the looks in their eyes. The pity. The satisfaction that I've failed."

I spoke again before he could interrupt. "It's there, Phil. You know there are more than a few people around here who don't like me very much. They're happy to see me knocked down."

"I'm so sorry, kiddo," he mumbled.

"You've got nothing to apologize for," I assured him. "You've never treated me any different. Neither has Director Fury. Clint only knows this me, so this is the way he treats me."

After a few moments of silence, he bumped my shoulder with his. "So. Do you like him?"

"Sure. He's a good guy." When he grinned, I finally understood what he was really asking. "As a friend, Phil. We don't know each other well enough for anything more and right now I've got way too much going on to even think about getting involved with anyone."

Though I knew I'd make an exception for the man beside me.

"Okay. I was just wondering if maybe you and your friend Clint would like to join us for lunch tomorrow afternoon," he asked.

"Us?" I asked, fearful of the implication of that two letter word.

He smiled broadly. "Her name is Sarah. We've been seeing each other for about six months now and she's funny and smart and amazing. She's a real estate agent that I met while I was looking at some possible locations for a new safe house. I think this is getting serious, Maria, and I really want you two to meet."

I struggled to breathe properly. I knew that Phil dated occasionally. I knew that he had lovers. I knew that he didn't think of me like that.

So why did this hurt so much?

Because he had never sounded so serious about any of the other women before.

He looked happy. Content.

So I would be happy for him.

"Sure," I told him. "I would love to meet her."

And would try not to hate her.

XOXOX

I felt the sofa dip slightly beside me and opened my eyes. Ella climbed up next to me, stuffed penguin and blanket in tow.

"I woke up and can't get back to sleep, mommy," she told me. "Can I sit up with you for a little while?"

"Sure," I told her, pulling her up onto my lap.

She kissed me sweetly, then snuggled close.

Some days, it was very easy not to hate Sarah.

Thanks for reading. As always, I hope you enjoyed. Also, as always, I really would love to know what you thought about this. Please let me know.

I think "Stroll" is next on the rotation. Hopefully have it up next weekend. Love to all.