A/N: WARNING- the last 3 or 4 sentences get a little heated. It may push into M territory but there's nothing explicit. Skip if you're uncomfortable with that- when they head back to the apartment.

A/N2: This one's for Hazmatt who's been a loyal reviewer. Thanks for all your words of encouragement!

A/N3: This chapter had a life of it's own and didn't go where I thought it would. It was fun to write though! Hahaha. Hand is better. Thanks to everyone for the well-wishes! Moral of that story: Don't try to catch a falling knife.

Day 7: In a Different Clothing Style

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Maria asked him.

Steve watched her scoot eggs around her plate in a careful facsimile of actually eating something. Her brow was furrowed, and she had tugged her bottom lip in between her teeth in a move that shot straight to his groin. He took a slow sip of water and pushed back the sudden urge to take her right there on the kitchen table. She gave him a knowing look, and the slight glare at the end told him he better take her question seriously.

"I'm not going to force you to return to Chicago," he started. "I'm more than happy to whisk you away to the beach or wherever it is people go on vacations these days."

She sighed heavily, the turmoil weighing on her face.

"There's a reason I don't associate with that part of my life any more. I don't like the act I have to play in that world."

"Maria, I'm not going to judge you for what you had to do to survive. I just want you to know that I'm here for you if you want to share that burden."

"There will be reporters," she muttered. "Especially now that Marc is a senator."

"Does he know?" Steve asked.

"He knows I work for the government and that it's classified. Depending on his next congressional appointment, he could get enough clearance for me to elaborate a little more."

She made a face, and scrapped all the eggs into a pile.

"He's a good man. He helped maintain my cover so I could disappear after our father died. And insisted I was kept in the will, not that I cared."

"What was your cover?" Steve responded curiously.

"Apparently, Montgomery Townsend III's daughter is an animal and human rights activist who travels to other countries to give humanitarian aid," she said with an eye roll. "Fury ensures I can go on missions I can tie into that, and allow myself to be seen on occasion. It keeps the press at bay, and doesn't cause any problems for Marc's political aspirations."

Steve nodded slowly, assimilating the new information. She watched him through a half-lidded gaze.

"So-," he started with a serious expression as she stiffened, the fork scrapping more vigorously against the plate.

"If I see a kitten in a tree, I should let you save it?"

She punched him hard in the bicep.

"Asshole."

He just laughed.

The rest of the day flew by. Maria slipped out after breakfast claiming she needed to check in with the realtor, and pick up a few last minute items for their trip. Steve had been surprised to learn that Hermes would be joining them, but later realized it made sense that Maria Townsend would be the type to travel with her dog when she was in the states. The dog in question stared up at him with soulful brown eyes before flopping in the middle of the hallway with a huff. Deciding to spend some time with the other Avengers before he left, he whistled and headed towards the elevator with Hermes on his heels.

"Take the jet," Stark stated when he walked into the room.

"Uh?"

"To Chicago. I told Fury if any reporter got too nosy about the mysterious man traveling with our wayward heiress, and discovers it's Captain America, then it wouldn't be too farfetched for you two to have met at one of my parties."

Steve was silent. Stark actually had a good point.

"That's a good plan."

"Of course it is," Stark replied.

"Is the pizza here yet?" Barton called as he swaggered into the room and flopped into an armchair.

"ETA's five minutes."

"Incoming hostiles?" Natasha asked as she quietly appeared in the doorway.

"Not unless you count doughy goodness with delicious melty-melty cheese to be hostile," Stark answered.

"It's hostile to my intestines," Banner added as he joined the crowd. "I think I'm lactose-intolerant."

"I took the liberty of adding a dairy-free pizza to the regular order, sir," Jarvis announced. "Your intestinal distress has been noted."

"I don't know whether to be impressed or disturbed," Bruce replied with a funny look.

"Do you take note of all intestinal comings and goings, Jarvis?" Steve warily asked.

"Only when an abnormal pattern is detected."

"We better pray that's never leaked to the media," Romanoff muttered.

"Disturbing Secrets of Avenger Bowel Movements," Barton said with a laugh.

"What the hell are you talking about, Barton?" a sharp voice cut in.

The room went silent as Maria Hill entered with a stack of pizza boxes. She dumped them on the counter.

"Met the pizza guy at the door, and thought I'd save him the trouble. What?" she questioned when she realized they all continued to stare.

"You look hot," Barton tossed out as he grabbed a box and disappeared with Natasha before she could take any retribution other than a raised middle finger.

Her hair was down and highlighted, loose waves falling to her shoulders. An oversized pair of Chanel sunglasses sat on top of her head. The navy blue Valentino dress was chic without being overly dressy and only drew attention to the sky high Jimmy Choos strapped to her feet. Her nails were done in a classy French Manicure and all in all, she looked every inch the heiress her ancestry deigned. She pulled off the look effortlessly, and still radiated a dangerous aura.

"You're not going to get Capsicle back to New York if you're wearing stuff like that every day in Chicago, Hill," Tony drawled.

"Fuck off, Stark."

"Good to know our foul-mouthed Deputy Director is still in there," he added with a grin.

"I might be a little underdressed," Steve added, tearing his eyes away from the woman in front of him.

She smirked.

"Pepper took care of it. There should be some bags waiting in your apartment."

The shock over her appearance dissipated as everyone dug into the pizza. Bruce smiled softly at her and told her she looked very nice, before heading back down to his lab with a box under his arm. She reached for a second piece, and turned her attention back to Steve.

"Pepper told me we're taking one of Stark's jets?"

"It gives us a good cover for how we met if my identity is leaked."

Maria looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding politely at Stark who was rummaging in the fridge for a drink.

"Thanks, Tony," she said.

Her words carried more weight than a simple thank you for the use of the plane, and he nodded his understanding.

"You kids better head out soon if you want to get to Chicago by 8pm," he said with a gleam in his eye.

Maria rolled her eyes, and Steve escorted her out of the room with a hand on her lower back. Hermes pulled himself up from the spot on the floor where he had been surreptitiously stealing pizza crusts and followed them. Once they were back in Steve's apartment, she turned to him with a raised eyebrow.

"I take it you like the dress?"

His eyes darkened and he swallowed slowly.

"Actually, it's the shoes."

A husky laugh escaped her, and he took a step towards her. The height of her heels put her almost at eye level with him, and he fought to keep his eyes from raking over her body. She shivered under his scrutiny.

"I don't think anyone will care if we're a little late," she said as he stepped into her space, fumbling with the zipper on the back of her dress.

"You're beautiful in anything you wear," he whispered in between kisses that were growing more heated and desperate.

"I'm quite fond of that catsuit," he added, as the dress fell to the floor in a puddle of silk.

"Duly noted," she responded, her own hands running up his bare chest. "I don't think the shoes would go with it, though."

He growled.