Author's Notes: YAY UPDATE! These will likely come monthly from now on. I'm really enjoying being a student again but it also means sacrificing time for leisure writing between school and work. I plan on finishing this; it'll just take time. I swear I'm not trying to torture anyone. Just know that I appreciate everyone who's read this work so far, especially those who still follow it. Thank you so much xox
"Captain, this is Deputy Director Maria Hill. Maria Hill, this is Captain America himself, Steve Rogers."
Fucking hell. Fuck the powers that be. Fuck to infinity and bey—
"Agent Hill?" Fury prods.
She shakes her head subtly, surprise visible only in her eyes and even then, only to those who know the subtleties in Maria Hill's reactions. "Just momentarily dumbstruck, Sir." Because she is. And it's better to pretend she's having a fangirl moment than to admit the truth. "Captain Rogers, it's a pleasure to meet you." She extends her hand and clears her throat, hoping he'd take the hint and follow her lead.
He takes a moment. She's acting like this is the first time they're meeting but it's not; he saw that flicker of recognition in her eyes right before her entire expression changed, almost like some sort of mask fell into place. Should he follow her lead? He should, right? Because if there's any place to air one's dirty laundry with the Deputy Director, it's definitely not in front of the Director. Right?
She's about to retract her extended hand when he all but launches into her space, taking her hand in his and shaking it enthusiastically. "Yes, hi, M… Uh, hello, Deputy Director Hill. And no, the pleasure is mine." He's still shaking her hand and Fury's looking at him oddly with—Is that amusement? "Fury said you were nothing like him. I'm glad." He receives matching raised eyebrows from both Hill and Fury, a response that makes him remember himself so he stops the handshake, hastily adding, "No offense."
Thank you. "May I have my hand back, Captain?"
Not yet, please? "Oh." But he knows he has to so he relinquishes his hold on her hand. "I apologize, when I was told of the meeting with the new Deputy, I wasn't expecting to meet, well, you."
"Do you have a problem with my being female?"
"Not about that, no." He gives her a look that he hopes sends the message that no, he has no problem with a female boss, just with the circumstances surrounding that revelation. He also hopes he conveys how that particular conversation is far from over. And with an almost curt nod, he addresses her, "Ma'am."
She bites back the cringe — at the look, at the title, at the tone. "Lieutenant or Agent Hill will do."
"Lieutenant?"
"Marines," she says, raising her chin, proud and somehow defiant as she casually gestures to their surroundings. "Now world security."
Security, yes, she had mentioned that. "Deputy Director too, that's…" He shakes his head in awe, unsure of what to say exactly. "Congratulations. That's amazing."
She's used to people seeing only one and not the other — she's either just a woman, more accurately a piece of meat to lecherous bastards, or just a soldier/spy — especially during first meetings. And as far as first meetings go, this is…late. A little too late, in fact. And his sincere and easy acceptance of her position — one that is above his at that — if not their situation baffles her despite her blank exterior.
Fury feels that this back and forth has gone on long enough, too long as far as his eye is concerned. "Well, now that you've both been," he pauses shortly and looks from one to the other. "Acquainted," he waits for the pairs of eyes to settle on him before he turns. "We can get to the matter at hand."
He walks away with his usual ominous aura, without another word or another glance, as if he were expecting them to follow just because. Maria, who is used to his ways, follows him and not long after, finds herself matching strides with Ste—Captain America.
"Captain Rogers has agreed to work on SHIELD operations, a select few that," he pauses as enters his office. "Require his particular skillset." His emphasis is not lost on Maria. "And as head—former head of operations, I trust that you can handle further acclimatization and operations?"
What? Maria blinks. "Acclima—Training, Sir?"
"Yes."
"Didn't I already undergo training?"
"Basic training, yes. And while you are a supersoldier, you are not a spy. First of all, you won't be going on missions in red, white, and blue; stealth is key. And more importantly, you won't be going in with your shield." The way he softens even minutely at Steve's surprised expression does not go unnoticed by Maria. "You asked to not be Captain America just yet." It's her turn to be surprised as she turns to Steve. She wants to ask why but if neither of them are forthcoming, then it's not a matter that needs to be discussed at the moment. "Have you changed your mind?"
It takes him a few seconds to answer, "No."
"Then it's settled." He pulls his chair away from his desk and adds, "If you change your mind, Captain, your uniform and shield are ready."
"Sir?"
"Agent Hill?" He turns to her as he takes his seat and gestures for them to do the same. Maria, back ramrod straight, takes her seat and Fury almost looks as if he knows what's about to come out of her mouth.
"I think it would be better for Captain Rogers to have Coulson as his handler."
"Are you saying Coulson's better than you?"
She bites back a smirk but her lips curl up at one corner anyway. "I'm saying he's a better fit for Captain Rogers." Fury tilts his head, waiting for her to elaborate. And she does so while ignoring the burning gaze she can feel from her side. "I haven't played handler in a while; he handles two of our best. The Captain would benefit from an experience with either of them, more so with both of them."
Fury stares at her, glances at Steve, then looks back at her. "You make a valid point. When Romanoff gets back, let her know. Barton is off so use him however you want to."
"And Coulson?" She asks despite having an inkling of his answer after he deliberately didn't address the matter.
"I need someone who wouldn't swoon if the Captain so much as opens his mouth or flexes his muscles."
And she's stuck. "Damn it, Coulson," she mutters, intending for it to be heard by no one else but Steve's enhanced hearing has him looking at her funny.
"You were really looking to pawn me off to someone else?" Steve asks once they've been dismissed.
"Coulson is more than capable as a handler, a better fit for you."
"Is this about you and me?"
Maria whirls around and very nearly collides with him. And when she speaks, it's just at a few inches' distance and it's quiet but nonetheless sharp. "We are at work, Captain. Here, we talk about nothing but work. Do you understand?"
He nods. "And outside?"
"There is no outside." She turns again and resumes walking. "This job has an extreme definition of 'full-time'. You can have the rest of the day off but I expect you at the floor come sunrise. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do. Good day, Captain."
Steve blinks. As far as dismissals go, a door to the face is not so bad. Not if there's a chance it'll open again.
- x -
The first week was spent going over all the basics, every day at sunrise and every night after the sun sets as long as Maria's schedule allows it. Most of the time, it doesn't but he trains anyway. The morning of the second week, they employ Clint's assistance in various long-range weaponry and skills, knife-throwing included but they start with darts.
"Barton, you're up." Maria says but receives no response, not even an acknowledgement, from the man currently lounging on a chair with his legs propped up on a table. She rolls her eyes, picks up a dart, and throws it at Clint's head, prompting Steve's—
"Hey! Why would you—" He stops upon seeing a grinning Clint effortlessly catch the dart in his fingers.
"Nice throw, Hill," he shouts on his way over. At Maria and Steve's matching winces, he touches something by his ear. "Sorry."
"Hawkeye, Captain America. Captain America, Hawkeye." Maria says in a rather short introduction before she promptly leaves for a conference call.
"Clint Barton," he offers his hand which Steve shakes.
"Steve Rogers."
He nods. "Cap. So, let's see how you are at this old thing." Steve does a good job at closer distances and a less than decent job at farther ones. "Not so bad. But we're gonna need to improve that if we're moving to knives."
They go at it for about an hour until Steve can hit what Clint asks him to almost precisely. "You're a quick learner. You'll need more practice but this progress is amazing." He then asks Steve if he wants to practice with his left. "I'm ambidextrous so, you know, if you want." So they do, and Steve finds he is absolutely not ambidextrous unless it's with his shield but at least he's hitting the dartboard.
When Maria returns hours later, she overhears a part of their conversation where Clint says the best student he's ever had was Maria. Maria would argue that it was a toss-up between her and Natasha before she remembers that Natasha learned and developed her skills before SHIELD. And in an impulse to impress — one that a student would want for a teacher, she tells herself — she pulls a knife from her boot and flings it to the board from her place by the door.
Bull's eye.
Of course. But not before it passes between Steve and Clint's heads, dangerously close to Steve's ear, if the slight current of air he felt was any indication. They turn and find her smirking.
"Show-off," Clint says, but there's a smile on his face and in his voice. He looks proud, if Steve's reading him right. And if only his heart wasn't beating wildly from near-fatal surprise — awe and admiration too, if he's being honest and he's always honest — he would've mirrored it.
"That's enough for today. Pick it up in the morning."
- x -
They were approaching their third hour of extended training one morning, extended because Maria has a string of conference calls this whole evening.
"Do it again." She's reading over documents that need her signature but she noticed from the corner of her eye that a red light blinked, signaling that Steve has failed the test and has been 'exposed' and caught.
"You weren't even looking," he says, slight frustration bleeding into his tone. Three hours of training with a drill sergeant can do that to a person.
Still not looking up at him, she responds, "Multitasking is a thing, Captain."
"Why are you doing this?"
This time, she puts her pen down slowly and looks directly at him. "This isn't about you, Captain. Every recruit goes through rigorous training, this included. Those who graduated from the Academy are not an exception and neither are you. I used to train them. Sure, they usually take much longer than you have so far but none of them had the privilege of being enhanced." She can see his clenched jaw even from a couple of feet away and she's taking a moment to decide whether to continue pushing buttons or not. She sighs, "I wasn't looking because I designed this entire training course; I know it like the back of my hand. You want to be in the field, don't you?" He nods, his expression still very serious. "When you want something, you work hard for it." He huffs because the double meaning, whether she deliberately put it out there or not, was not lost on him. She mistakes his huff for exasperation so she continues, "You can always give up."
"No." Immediate, firm, no room for argument.
"Alright then." She raises an eyebrow. "Again." Paperwork forgotten, she's watching him go through the motions when a voice suddenly speaks up from the doorway.
"That was a little harsh."
She doesn't jump because she's been aware of her presence the moment she was graced with it. Besides, Natasha's done that too many times to surprise her by now. "He needs to learn. You have him next week."
Natasha hums. "How long have you been at it?"
"Four weeks, two days."
Natasha turns to her with a raised eyebrow, impressed, because this part of the training for the new recruits usually comes after a year. "He's good."
She wants to argue that he's a goddamn supersoldier; he should be. But that's something Natasha rarely thinks, much less says. So she silently counts to ten before she says, "Alright, take five."
He's noticed the redheaded woman the moment she entered but he paid her no mind. If she got Maria to give him a break, then she must be something. "I can still—"
"Take five, soldier."
"Yes, Ma'am."
Natasha hasn't stopped staring at her and it irks her. "Out with it, Nat."
"I heard about Wheaton."
Maria forces her breathing to stay steady. "What about it?"
"Eriksen," she merely says as if it explains everything. "You're okay." It wasn't a question but it may as well have been one.
"We don't do that, Nat."
"No. Clint does that, for the both of us. But he doesn't know what happened."
"And how do you know?" She knows how Natasha got her information; she is among the best at a lot of things, hacking included.
"You know how I know. And Fury told us to look out for you, the same way you do for me, and Clint, and Phil, and Nick, and Rogers, and SHIELD, and everyone else. Maybe you came back a little haunted, that's normal. But you're taking it out on Rogers and that's not something you do. So I need to know."
Maria looks away and finds herself following Steve as he once again goes through the exercise. When he actually finishes it and does so well, he turns to her with a wide, bright smile. She almost, almost smiles back but she nods instead before she turns to Natasha.
"I'm okay, Nat." This time, she actually smiles, small but a smile nonetheless. Natasha's eyes narrow slightly as she glances at Steve before she nods and turns to leave. "Tell Clint?"
Natasha's brows furrow as she smiles back, letting Maria know she's being ridiculous because— "Of course."
When she turns back to a giddy-looking Steve, she gives him another nod and a small smile that has him beaming. She tells him to do it again and again. But there are no more huffs or complaints this time, just a slight frown and a sheen of sweat, concentration and determination evident in his expression. But needless to say, he does it flawlessly every time.
At hour four, when he's gone through a few variations of the exercise, she convinces herself that the pride she feels now is the same feeling she gets when a recruit finishes this course. She almost succeeds.
A/N: I'm thinking about adding the rest of the Avengers but we'll see how that plays out. What do you think?
Random: Why must development (character, plot, HUMAN) take so long?