A/N: Thanks for the reviews and follows! Makes me happy :)

PS: Maria cusses like a sailor. It case you didn't get that feeling last chapter. Heh.

Day 2: Doing Something Sweet

It had been almost two weeks since that night at the club, and Maria still hadn't heard a peep from Tony Stark. She frowned. A healthy dose of paranoia in her line of work was necessary, but this was getting ridiculous. Turning back to the files in front of her, she wrinkled her nose in annoyance and got back to work. Who knew there was so much paperwork involved in saving the world? Forms in triplicate be damned. A sudden knock pounded at the door, and she glanced up at the clock with a scowl. Her next meeting wasn't for another two hours.

"Yes?" she barked, annoyed at the disturbance.

Steve Rogers entered her office with two cups in his hand, and nudged the door closed with his foot. He paused, taking in her unreadable expression before offering her one of the cups. Her face still masked, she took the offering with a slightly narrowed gaze. She took a sip of the warm beverage, and lifted an eyebrow in surprise.

"You've been talking to Romanov," she said.

He shrugged.

"Natasha told me you preferred tea. The coffee shop down the street has a pretty nice Darjeeling blend. My favorite is their fall black with orange blossom."

Her lips quirked upward in a small smile.

"I never would have taken you for a tea connoisseur, Rogers," she said while inhaling the delicious aroma.

"I had you pegged as a coffee drinker, only black," he replied with a teasing jest.

She rolled her eyes.

"Everything okay at the Tower?" she questioned while gesturing for him to sit.

After the Chitauri Invasion, the Avengers had holed up in Stark Tower. Tony stated it was for security purposes, and Maria thought he had a point. It did make communication with them easier, despite her constant worry that the block might be leveled or the constant paparazzi camped outside. Things had been surprisingly quiet on a world security level which meant the Council was chomping at the bit to start new projects especially threat assessment.

"It's strange," Steve started. "I never went to camp as a child, but I imagine this is what it's like. Tony was nice enough to give us our own floors, so the privacy isn't a problem. I just don't know what to do with myself."

Maria nodded, a thoughtful look on her face.

"I'll see if I can come up with any missions for you," she said after a moment. "You could also volunteer. I can get you a list of places that you might be interested in helping out."

He grinned at her in surprise, and she felt her skin tingle.

Down girl.

"Thank you," he said. "I know you're busy, so I'll head out, but I appreciate your offer."

She cocked her head to the side in amusement, her eyes softening.

"You're the one that brought me tea," she replied as he quietly slipped out of her office.

She took another sip, and turned back to the piles of paper in front of her.

Curious.

Over the next two weeks, the random cups of tea continued. Sometimes it was oolong, sometimes darjeeling, and on a day where she felt slightly stuffy, a cup of chamomile appeared. Occasionally a baked good would appear on her desk while she was at a meeting. The first time it happened, she frowned at the lonely apple cinnamon muffin beside the cup of tea. She wasn't sure what to think of this step up in friendly offerings. She probably stared at it for an hour before breaking off chunks in between requisition statements and other reports.

Today she was running late with a killer headache thanks to a long winded discussion with the World Security Council. She radiated anger, and the crowds in the hallway parted to let her through. There were benefits to being a bitch, she mused. She shut her office door with a click and turned toward her desk. A small salad topped with mandarin oranges and almonds sat beside a cup of what smelled like that black and orange blossom tea Rogers had mentioned earlier. Her mouth opened and then closed, but the rumble from her stomach kept her from doing anything rash. Sitting down, she grabbed a forkful of lettuce and started chewing thoughtfully.

"I think Captain America is courting me with food," she announced after shutting the door to Fury's office.

The man in front of her shot her an annoyed glare and put aside his tablet. He fought to keep a smile from forming at the baffled expression plastered on his Deputy Director's face. Maria turned towards him, her face a mixture of emotions.

"Did you just say courting?" Fury asked with a twitch of his lips.

"Well I don't think he expects me to strip for a muffin, and he's being all sneaky about the whole charade."

"That's a mental image I didn't need, Agent."

"What do I do?"

"Well, Hill, that's your decision. No one's bringing me any damn muffins."

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

"I'm not a nice person," she stated.

"You're a person that has to make the hard decisions," he countered back.

She frowned.

He tried not to laugh at his normally composed second who was so thrown off over baked goods and tea.

"Look Maria," he said softly. "I've known you a very long time. People like you and me don't always get the happy ending. We're too busy making sure the rest of the damn world does. So, as long as it doesn't affect your job, do whatever the hell you want."

"You going to apply to Hallmark?" she retorted.

"Fuck off, Hill," he said with a small smile.

She stood with a sigh.

"Glad we could have this moment of bonding time," she dryly stated.

He chuckled and shooed her to the door.

"Get back to work, and tell Rogers I want a damn pumpkin muffin next time he makes a bakery run."

"You're like a fucking Keebler elf," she commented the next time he nudged her door open. "Always showing up with food."

He smirked, and handed her a brown paper bag. She glanced into it and grinned. Cranberry-Orange scones- her favorite. She walked around the other side of her desk, and leaned against it. Crossing her arms, she studied him.

"Is this some veiled comment on my weight, Captain?" she questioned with a raised eyebrow.

He had the decency to look somewhat embarrassed.

"It was the only way I could keep Tony from barging in."

"By feeding me?"

"He said if I didn't make a move, he'd make one for me."

Maria shuddered slightly at the thought of Stark getting involved. Unable to resist temptation any longer, she reached into the bag and broke a chunk off the scone.

"So, is this you making a move Rogers?" she questioned, her face blank. "Or are you just trying to keep Stark off your back?"

"I thought about just kissing you, but I wasn't sure if you'd shoot me," he answered honestly.

She snorted, choking briefly on the scone. She waved off his concerned glance, and took a gulp of tea. Putting the cup down, she regarded him seriously for a moment. He took a step closer to her, and she stilled. He shifted his weight, uncertain. The man was like a goddamned puppy.

"How about dinner?" he asked.

"Why?"

"Because we need food to survive?" he answered with a befuddled expression.

He stared at her, and she sighed. Fucking golden retriever. She rolled her eyes.

"Why me?"

"You're the only one who treats me like Steve Rogers, and not some damned superhero."

She raised an eyebrow at the swear, and he huffed. In a single step, he was in front of her, his hand lifting her chin. He pulled her mouth to his, and holy fucking shit, her mind went blank. His teeth tugged at her bottom lip, and her hand grasped his shirt to hold him close. She was thankful she was half-leaning against her desk, because her legs were embarrassingly weak at his surprise declaration of affection. Shit, Hill. He pulled back, his thumb brushing her cheek and his eyes boring into hers.

She exhaled slowly, let her hand fall to her side, and got her thoughts back under control as he reluctantly pulled away.

"Typically, you don't kiss a girl till after the first date," she drawled.

"Last time, I didn't get that chance."

She sobered, her eyes meeting his once more. Goddamnit. He was genuinely sincere. Fucking puppy. She closed her eyes briefly, and grabbed her tablet from her desk. He watched her closely as she stood, and almost brushed passed him. She stopped, and leaned toward him; Her mouth close to his ear, and her hand on his arm.

"You can pick me up at eight, Cap."

He swallowed hard.

She left her office and didn't look back.