It was supposed to be the trip of a lifetime for Maria Hill. What American College student doesn't dream of studying abroad for six months, especially in Europe? However, in reality, the work had been piled on and Maria had spent so much time completing her assignments and studying for exams she'd barely been able to see any of the six cities she was supposed to be experiencing.
Meanwhile, she'd spent the last five months receiving jealousy inducing texts from her best friend and roommate, informing her all about her new boyfriend. If Maria didn't know Natasha Romanoff any better, she'd assume she'd fallen in love...

[Text: Maria to Nat] Isn't this supposed to be the other way around? Aren't I supposed to go on an adventure to Europe and find the love of my life? Instead, I haven't left the library in the past fourteen hours while you're having the best sex of your life and going on romantic dates, all while living in the comfort of your college dorm?
[Text: Nat to Maria] Sorry...
[Text: Nat to Maria] But not really

Thought Natasha's reply had been less than satisfactory, Maria was thrilled for her in a way only best friends could be; glad she was happy, supportive and ready to make sure this man was worthy of Natasha, yet completely envious at the same time.

But tonight, after a three hour delay and an eleven hour flight, she was finally back in New York. The greatest city on Earth... She could finish her Business degree from the comfort of her own home, catch up with her friends, get a decent pizza and finally meet the man who Natasha was nuts about.

Maria paid the taxi driver, sighing at the unsurprising discovery that the elevator in their apartment block had still not been fixed, resigning herself to dragging her suitcase up the five flights of stairs to their apartment. It was dark and raining, just like the New York she remembered. Tired, damp and probably smelling after a day of travelling, Maria's plans for tonight didn't extend further than a warm shower, some crappy food and to climb into her very own, much missed, bed.

Stepping into her apartment, those plans seemed to vanish before her eyes. When she was met with a sight she hadn't expected to see. Natasha Romanoff was pacing, literally pacing, back and forth in front of their single sofa, mobile phone clutched in her hand. Her red curls looked somehow wilder than usual and there was a look of distress deep set on her face in place of the carefully neutral expression that usually left Natasha unreadable.

"Nat?" Maria asked, worried.

"He's married..."