Day 10: Arguing

She took control of the aircraft when they returned to the hangar. Steve shook his head with a soft smile, and ran a hand through his tousled hair before collapsing into a plush armchair. She forced the smile to remain on her face until he could no longer see her. She quickly flew through the preflight checklist, and was given the clear for takeoff, her mind exhausted and unsure. She inhaled deeply as the jet smoothly lifted off, and tried to relax. She knew Steve would start to question her the minute he noticed her unease.

She was too fucking close.

The previous night, she had jolted awake with a racing heart and clammy skin. His hold on her abdomen tightened, and she had to quietly disentangle her limbs from his. She had stared at him then. The moonlight trickling through the window and dancing across his face as he slept peacefully. He was America's fucking Golden Boy and she was smart enough to know that she could lose every damned thing she had worked for if the wrong people were aware of her attachment. She found herself wanting to run her hand across his face, and through his hair, and that realization that maybe she didn't care what happened to her stunned her.

She had always assumed that he would be the one to bring her ambition crashing down around her, but a swift thought wormed her way into her mind. It would be entirely too easy for someone to destroy him through her.

Fuck.

She forced her breathing to slow, and wrapped a blanket around her body before stepping out onto the balcony. The waves crashed in the distance, and the steady sound of the tide helped her recenter. She had learned a long time ago not to expect anything from anyone and Steve had waltzed in and somehow managed to push through her barriers. At first she had placated herself by resolutely believing it was just sex- a friends-with-benefits sort of thing between two lonely people. But somewhere along the way she'd lost her heart and her goddamned mind.

She had never cared what other people thought of her. She had grown up with thick skin and the drive to push herself for her own sake, but she would be damned if she became the downfall of Captain America. It was no secret that she did not support the Avengers Initiative or Fury's reliance on superheroes, but the world could always use another damned good man, especially one who had the gift of uniting others to his cause.

A hand on her shoulder jerked her out of her train of thought, and she forced her expression to remain impassive as she returned to the present. He was staring at her with a concerned expression, his brow furrowed.

"Are you okay?" he asked her softly, slipping into the copilot's seat.

"Just dreading the paperwork I know I'll return to," she answered flippantly.

The look he gave her told her he wasn't fooled, but he didn't press. She ignored him, and could almost feel his frustration. They finished the flight in silence, and Maria continued to ignore the wounded looks he sent her, knowing she was distancing herself from him. His hand clenched into a fist.

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"Hill. I want to see you in my office immediately," Fury barked in her earpiece.

She grimaced and shoved her paperwork to the side before acknowledging the director's request. She was never taking a week off again. She'd been greeted with a stack of mission reports needing further review. In addition, it seemed like the agents coordinating the new agent training couldn't find a stick up their ass if they tried. The plans that Agent Roberts had been submitted were entirely useless, including today's "prance about New York" charade that was supposed to be a stealth exercise. What was this- fucking kindergarten? Scowling, she grabbed her tablet and headed towards Fury's office while agents scampered out of her way.

"You rang?" she drolly questioned.

Fury's lips twitched in a barely imperceptible smirk.

"How the hell did I manage without your wit and charm this past week," he retorted.

He was silent, and she stared straight ahead and ignored his appraising stare.

"The time off did you well," he said after a moment. "You don't look like you're going to fall over."

She rolled her eyes, and crossed her arms in front of her chest. He sighed heavily, and motioned for her to sit. She exhaled slowly in relief. Back to business. The debrief had lasted just over an hour when she finally stood up. He'd be heading back to Washington in the next few weeks, and was sending her back to the Helicarrier to oversee their current missions while he promoted Operation Insight. Almost as an afterthought, he inclined his head towards her.

"Did you see Roberts' summary of the AIT course?" he asked.

"Should I plan a scavenger hunt to accompany the day in town?" she responded dryly.

"I thought you'd feel that way," he said with a smirk.

"Roberts is an asinine waste of space. He'd fit in better as the director of a summer camp."

"Get out of my office, Hill. Go terrorize the new recruits."

"Yes sir. Someone needs to."

"I'd damn sure prefer if you didn't make half of them quit this time."

"Do you really want agents who can't handle me?" she asked with a slightly raised eyebrow.

"Hill- no one can handle you. Now fuck off."

The echo of her boots clipped down the hallway as she headed back to her office. Stopping by the break room, she grabbed a bottle of water and a banana and ignored the curious stares of those brave enough to wonder why she had a tan. Shit. It was moments like this when she really missed Coulson. Draining half the bottle, she strode towards her desk without care to the figure seated in the corner of the room. The door clicked shut behind her.

"How was Chicago?"

"Romanoff, you and I both know you don't do small talk, so ask whatever the hell it is you're here to ask so I can plan some suitable tests for the Agents in Training."

The assassin looked vaguely interested in that topic. Maria just narrowed her gaze.

"You're no fun, Hill."

"I aim to please," she deadpanned.

"You sure are in a mood today. Did you not get laid enough this week?"

"Romanoff," Maria growled.

"Fine, fine."

Natasha waved her hand indicated the topic was tabled, for know.

"Deputy Director, your presence is urgently requested in the Control Room."

"On my way," she replied with a hand at her ear.

With one last warning glare towards the redhead, she quickly headed down the hall only to be greeted with a flurry of agents radiating tension in the control room. A male agent was seated in the middle of the room clutching a bottle of water. Maria placed him as one of the agents involved in recruiting, Agent Jones. Fury entered from the other side and caught her eye as she made her way towards him.

"What do we have?" Fury barked, and the room fell silent.

"We have what looks to be a hostage situation," one agent replied as the others stared at Jones.

The Director furrowed his brow.

"Jones-elaborate." she coldly prodded.

"Roberts and I split the new recruits into two teams for a stealth and recon training exercise around the city. We were to meet back at the old warehouse on the city outskirts. We were ambushed by five armed men who had pulled in a young mother and her three children as shields."

"Do we have video?" Fury interrupted as one of the nearby techs scrambled around his computer.

"Almost, sir."

"Have they made any demands?" she questioned.

Agent Jones wouldn't meet her gaze.

"They'll only negotiate with Deputy Director Hill," Jones said softly. "In person."

"Like hell," Fury cursed.

"Sir-" she started before Fury cut her off with a glare.

"They said they'll start shooting hostages every ten minutes starting in an hour unless they hear the Commander is on her way. They have two bombs- one some where in New York, and the other at the warehouse. They'll blow them both if the Avengers are involved," Jones swallowed hard. "Director, they shot Roberts. He was still alive when they sent me out, but-"

The video feed cut in at that moment, and she narrowed her eyes at the figures on screen.

"Ethan Porter," she spoke suddenly. "Homegrown terrorist with ties to the Russian mob. He was dishonorably discharged from the Army. We last ran into him when he failed to infiltrate SHIELD and carry out an assassination attempt on Director Fury in May of 2008. He's been underground since then. "

"Ma'am, I don't mean to be disrespectful, but he also specified you wear your hair down."

She stared at the scarred visage of the man of the screen with an almost feral look in her eye. Her eyes studied the puckered mark on his cheek.

"That's because, Agent, I stabbed him with a bobby pin the last time we met."

The room was silent for a moment.

"Sitrep?" Fury asked.

"We have five armed hostiles, one agent down, eight new agents, and four civilians. Location is secure, and the media is unaware of the situation. No sign of an incendiary device yet," another agent reported.

"Get Romanoff and Barton in here," Hill ordered.

"Goddamnit, Hill!" Fury roared.

The agents in the room looked up in shock, seemingly missing the link of what had just transpired between the top two.

"You and I both know this is the best option," her voice raised. "Roberts is down with eight fucking rookies that don't have a clue what our protocols are in this situation, and we've got to get those civilians out of there without blowing up some part of the city. There's no other choice, especially after the Chitauri Invasion."

The other agents kept their heads down as the director radiated anger as he stared down the Deputy Director who was not backing down.

"None of this leaves this room," Fury growled after a moment with a look around the room. "You know what you're walking into?"

"Porter likes to play games," she responded cooly. "That should give Romanoff and Barton enough time."

"But I thought he said-" another agent started to break in.

Maria fixed the agent with an icy glare.

"Technically they're assets of SHIELD."

The duo in question arrived at that moment and were quickly filled in on the situation. While Barton was staring at building schematics, Natasha looked up at Maria with sharp eyes.

"Don't do anything until the civilians are clear, and we find out where the hell he's placed this bomb," Maria ordered before the Russian could comment.

"Call Roberts' phone and tell Porter I'm on my way," she stated.

"Try not to get yourself killed, Hill. I don't have time to train another damned deputy director," Fury barked.

She could sense the fondness in his gruff statement, and she nodded, her face blank. Reaching up, she pulled the rubber band from her hair and let it fall.

"Put a medical team on standby," she ordered on her way out.

"Get me some fucking audio in that building, and have Carter set up a response unit across the street," he snarled as he watched her leave the room.

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In her quarters, Maria quickly changed out of the catsuit and into something a little more civilian. She stared thoughtfully at her phone for a moment, before exhaling deeply and shooting off a quick text to Steve.

'Gotta work late tonight. Can you take Hermes on a walk for me?'

She quickly hit send, and squelched the small feeling of guilt that was traveling through her stomach. She was fucking compromised. This is why she didn't do personal relationships. Steve was going to kill her himself when he found out.

'You're a damned sap, Hill,' she told herself.

The door to her room suddenly opened, and Romanoff walked in.

"You're not telling us everything," the redhead snapped.

Maria sighed.

"Porter likes to play games," she repeated. "And this one is going to get personal."

Natasha continued to stare her down.

"There's a good chance I'm not walking out of this one," she admitted. "I'm almost positive he was behind the attack at my house."

Romanoff remained silent.

"No matter what happens to me, clear the city first. SHIELD can't handle another hit right now."

"So you're just going to sacrifice yourself?" Natasha said angrily.

"To protect our mission here? Yes," Maria answered firmly. "That's my job. I'd never ask my agents to do something I wouldn't do myself, and it's finally caught up with me."

"Fuck," Natasha whispered. "Did you at least tell him."

Maria didn't have to ask to know who she meant.

"I told him I was working late tonight," she muttered.

She carefully placed her phone, gun, and ID on the table beside the bed, and ignored her friend.

"Let's go. We're wasting time."