Stepping on the soap box for a moment. I will probably post this note on all three of the stories I have going at the moment, so if you read them all, you can read this 3 times. Or skip it 3 times. Or read it 1 or 2 times and skip it the other. I just need to say this. I have felt very supported here, so this is not a response to any personal experience. There are tens of thousands of stories and writers on this site. There are many more readers. There are many different styles of story and writing. You can find intricately plotted action stories, pure fluff stories, horror stories, erotic stories (hetro or homosexual), romantic stories (again, hetro or homosexual), stories that make you think, laugh, or say 'huh?'...you get the idea. Most readers have certain types of stories that they prefer. Likewise, writers will usually have a certain type of story that they prefer to write or feel they write better. While I enjoy reading a story with an involved plot and well planned details, that's not the type of story I write. It's not my strength. What I write is usually more character driven than plot driven. Those who usually read my stuff have probably figured this out about me and new readers can probably do so pretty quickly. Writing is a fun release for me. I really appreciate that the feedback I have received has been supportive and positive. Some fellow writers that I have gotten to 'know' though, haven't been so fortunate. One was even driven to remove stories because someone (anonymously) made negative, downright hateful comments about not liking the writer's style. Another blasted an author because they didn't like a plot point. It's fine to say that something is not to your taste, but you don't need to be hateful about it. And if you do feel the need, at least have the decency to log in so the author can contact you privately if they would like to do so. Writing is a lot of work and putting something out there for public perusal is a rather scary thing. I'm not saying don't criticize, because constructive criticism gives a writer something to think about. I'm just saying, please be gentle. Writers on here are not professionals. We write because we want to share our ideas. I don't expect everyone to like everything I post here. I can respect that. You can tell me you don't like it and why, without being cruel. You can even simply ignore it and continue exploring the site. There are many talented writers here as well as many struggling writers. Find something you like. I can pretty well guarantee it's on here somewhere. Thank you for your time. Now leaving the soapbox.
Update ready to post. I know, it's Monday, but since it's a holiday here, it still counts as the weekend, right?
I'm still playing with toys that aren't mine, but I'm playing nicely with them and returning them undamaged when I'm not using them.
Animal Feelings: Thanks. Glad you liked.
Loki's Army 0602: Glad you enjoyed. It's fun to write people in those unguarded moments. Since I've never been drunk and don't hang around drinkers much, I hoped it would be believable.
Leoni1988: You're welcome. Thank you so much for your review.
Qweb: Exactly. While Maria and Nat are both amazing women, there are things they don't deal with well...like feelings. But they're getting there, thanks to their men
kali rogers: Thank you for both reviews. I'm glad you like. And yes, Clint is a very wise man.
Sandy-wmd: Yup. I figured it was time for someone to call BS on her, and a slightly drunk person that she would never hurt anyway seemed like a good choice.
ClumsyTonks: Pull up a chair to the table of my imagination. I'm always happy to feed your obsession. I can even put more leaves in the table if needed.
All For Jesus: I so appreciate your feed back. I love knowing specific things that you liked or made you giggle.
captainhillshipper: Love the new handle, by the way. I'm glad you understood what Pepper was saying. I wasn't sure I was making much sense when I wrote it. Thank you for your condolences as well. Life changes, but it goes on. And thank you for sharing your talents. Anyone looking for well written Steve/Maria fics should definately check out this writer. She's awesome.
Now-You-Don't-or-Do-You: Thank you. I clearly love writing this character. And, by the way, another writer with exellent Steve/Maria tales to tell.
LoverofDogs94: I'm so glad you like my interpretation of these characters. I love writing strong women and seeing them support one another instead of tearing each other down.
nightmoon1024: Thanks so much. You always make me feel so good. You're an excellent encourager.
sunshineforever13: Thank you.
Samaurium: Done. Hope you enjoy.
Most sincere thanks to new favorites, followers, and most especially, my dear reviewers. I would gift you all with chocolate, it I could. (And I don't give up chocolate for many people). You're all wonderful. Just to let you know, this chapter is a little more towards the 'T' end of the rating scale. Nothing really graphic, but some discussion of a sexual nature. You've been warned. Now, if you've gotten through this note, the story is about to begin.
Stroll 17
Maria came awake, keeping her eyes closed and remaining still as she instantly assessed her surroundings. She recognized the feel of her own bed. The warm body next to her was much larger than Cat, her normal bed mate at the tower. Even larger than Bucky or Katya, who sometimes joined her when their preferred humans were not available.
And considerably less furry than any of the trio. And much better smelling.
Her mind drifted back to the night before.
The drinks and conversation with Natasha and Pepper. Pepper's rambling, unsatisfactory definition of 'love.' The conclusion that something didn't have to be defined to be experienced.
Steve's surprise appearance. Carrying her off to bed.
She felt his lips brush against her forehead as he laughed softly.
"I know you're awake, Maria," he said, keeping his voice low. "How are you feeling?"
She stretched slowly, easing the cramps from her body before opening her eyes. She smiled at the concern on his face, snuggling close to kiss him.
"Pretty well, actually," she told him.
"No hangover?"
She sat up, shaking her head slightly as she considered her body's reaction to the motion. He sat up next to her, perching on the edge of the bed as he awaited her response.
"Nope," she finally replied. "I pretty much know how much liquor I can handle without having to pay severely for it the next day."
"So, you'd say that you're sober?" he asked.
"Completely sober," she confirmed.
He smiled broadly. "So, do you have something you want to tell me?" he asked.
Recalling her babbling the night before, she put on a thoughtful expression. "Let me think."
He leaned forward and lightly kissed her forehead.
"You need to remember to turn in your mission report."
Her nose.
"You're overdue for your physical."
Her lips.
"Bucky missed you."
Her neck.
"I've really got to go to the bathroom," she suddenly declared, jumping up and heading quickly into said room. At the door, she turned. "Hold that thought, I'll be right back."
When the door closed, he dropped his head, rubbing his neck. He knew she was teasing, but wondered if perhaps it was a way of backing away from what she had told him the night before. Now that she was completely sober, was she regretting telling him that she loved him, too?
He went to the bathroom door and listened carefully, slightly embarrassed, but relieved to hear her simply taking care of morning routine, not throwing up. He heard the sound of running water, then the soft 'scritching' sound of a toothbrush being put to use.
That was a good sign, right? He breathed into his cupped hand, wincing at the odor of morning breath. When she stepped out, he tilted his head towards the now empty room and raised a questioning eyebrow. With a nod, she stepped aside.
"Mouthwash is on the counter," she told him.
"Was that a hint?" he asked her.
"Pretty much," she answered with a smile.
He studied himself in the mirror, trying to figure out what his next step should be. Should he push, or let her take the lead?
Business complete, he exited the bathroom to find the bedroom empty. With a small frown, he headed down the hallway, finally discovering his girlfriend in the spare room, setting down fresh water for Cat and Bucky. He stepped over, quickly filling the food bowls, then following her into the kitchen where she washed her hands and started the coffeemaker.
Turning, Maria snuggled into his arms, stretching up for a long kiss. When she broke it off, she smiled up at him shyly.
"I was going to tell you something."
"Before you do," he interrupted, "I want to apologize." She looked at him. "For what I said on the phone."
Her face closed suddenly, and she stepped away. "Of course. I understand. You were still stressed from the mission." She mentally chastised herself. Of course he hadn't really meant what he said. How could a man like him love a woman like her?
He suddenly realized where her thoughts were headed and pulled her close again. "No, that's not it, sweetheart. Not for 'what' I said. I meant that with everything in me." He kissed her again, examining her eyes until he saw her belief.
"I apologize for how I said it. On the phone, and then hanging up before you could respond. That was cowardly of me."
"I can think of many words to describe you, Steve Rogers, but 'cowardly' is not one of them," she reassured him with a smile.
"But I was," he reiterated.
"Smart," she countered. "You probably figured I would either hit you or run away."
He shrugged, then nodded. "Probably."
"You're probably right," she agreed. "As it was, I told myself I heard you wrong."
"I figured you'd do that, too. That's why I sent the follow up text."
"You know me well."
He smiled and kissed her again. "Regardless, it's still something that should be said in person. At least, the first time. Face to face. You should be able to look me in the eye and know that I mean what I say." He placed his hands on her waist and lifted her to sit on the kitchen counter. Gently framing her face with his hands, he looked deeply into her eyes.
"I love you, Maria Hill. With every ounce of my being, I love you."
She kept her eyes locked on his, lifting her hands to rest them on his. She took a deep breath.
"I love you, too, Steve," she finally whispered slightly shakily.
He smiled broadly, leaning close for a kiss.
"Are you sure about that?" he teased.
"Terrified," she admitted, "But pretty sure."
"I'll take it," he said, his lips once more claiming hers as his arms wound around her waist, pulling her tight against him.
After several minutes, he pulled back to take a breath. She pushed him back and slid off the counter.
"Coffee?"
He looked at her, then at the coffeemaker where the fresh brew awaited. "Sure," he agreed, reaching up in the cabinet to pull down a couple of mugs. He was pleased to note that her hands weren't quite steady as she filled them, then brought her own mug to her lips for a drink.
"Why now?" she finally asked.
"Why now for what?" he queried.
"To tell me," she clarified.
He took her hand and led her to the sofa in the living area. They sat down cross legged, facing one another.
"Because it was time," he told her. "Because, even though you might not have been ready to hear it, I needed to say it."
"Because of the close call on the mission?" she asked. "The doctor who was monitoring your vitals said that your heart actually stopped when the explosion hit you." She glanced down at the beverage in her hands. "Most likely the force when you hit the ground restarted it."
He nodded. "It's funny, actually. I was dead for 70 years in the ice and don't remember dreaming at all. They said I was only out for a few seconds this time, but..."
She waited for him to continue, finally taking his coffee cup and setting it on the table next to hers so that she could take his hands.
"Tell me about it."
He collected himself for a few moments, studying their joined hands, thinking about how right her hand felt wrapped around his.
"I was back in 1942. A club or bar or something. Real music on a real juke box." She smiled, knowing his opinion of the music Tony kept trying to push on him.
"Suddenly, she was there, sitting down at the table across from me."
"Peggy?"
He nodded. "I told her about the crash and about waking up in the future. She was curious, of course. About Stark Industries. I told her about Tony and Pepper. And SHIELD. And the amazing deputy director of SHIELD. She said she thought she'd like you."
Looking up, he caught her gaze. "Even though she hated losing me to you."
"What did she mean by that?" Maria asked, puzzled.
"She told me that I was there because I had a choice to make. That I felt like I had been forced into this time period with no say in the matter and that now, I was being offered that choice." He continued watching Maria. "I realized that she was right. I was telling myself that I couldn't commit to anyone or anything in this century. I still had this thought that Stark or Banner or SHIELD would come in some day and tell me that they had developed a time machine or something and that I could go back if I wanted. Back to my life there."
"Back to Peggy," she whispered.
"Back to Peggy," he acknowledged. "But then I realized that I actually have more connections here than I did there. I have a home. I've adopted a pet. I've got friends who are more like family. I've got work that I enjoy." He lifted her hand to his mouth, pressing a tender kiss in the palm of her hand. "And I've found an amazing woman who challenges me and makes me laugh and trusts me. Who cares about Steve Rogers, not just Captain America."
"But you loved her, Steve."
"I loved the idea of loving her, Maria," he corrected, searching for the right words. "She was an amazing, strong woman, but we never had the time to see what could be. She offered me the chance to stay. To pick up my life back there. To see what could be."
"It was just a dream, though."
"I don't think so," he argued. "I think that if I had decided to stay, the impact wouldn't have restarted my heart. I really think I would have died."
She tore her gaze away, looking down to where his thumb gently stroked the back of her hand. The thought of losing him left a knot in the pit of her stomach.
He pulled one hand free of hers and lightly gripped her chin, encouraging her to look at him again.
"I realized that I couldn't give up what I already have for all the 'might be's' in my past. When I think about my future," he told her, "you're there. I'm here to stay, no matter what."
Finally, her face lit up with a smile and she surged forward, wrapping her arms around his neck as her mouth crashed against his. He let his arms slide around her waist, pulling her onto his lap as her tongue slipped between his lips to push against his. She tasted of coffee and mint toothpaste and promise. He leaned back, pulling her on top of him as the kiss heated up. His hands lifted the hem of her tank top, gently rubbing skin revealed there.
She finally sat up, breathing heavily as she stroked his chest through the thin cotton of his t-shirt.
"What do you want, Steve?" she asked. "Because if we need to stop..."
His eyes were dark as he sat up, the hand stroking her back moving down to her butt, pulling her closer. "I want you, Maria. I want to make love to you."
"You're sure?"
"Pretty sure," he told her with a grin.
"I'll take it," she grinned back. She gasped as he rose, wrapping her long legs around his waist as he walked back to the bedroom, his lips tracing a path down her neck. When he sat down on the edge of the bed, he let her go long enough to pull his shirt off and toss it to the floor. She allowed her hands to explored the muscles of his chest and back as he removed her tank top. His hands roamed the scarred skin of her back, fingers coming to rest at the waistband of her yoga pants. She slid off his lap, standing in front of him to allow him to slide them down. Before he could pull her back, she froze, muttering a soft curse.
"Just a minute," she told him. She opened the drawer of her nightstand and cursed again before striding into the bathroom. Moments later, she stood in the doorway, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she studied him.
"My diaphragm is back on the base. For birth control?" she explained. "Please tell me you have some condoms."
He looked at her, dressed in nothing but her sports bra and tiny bikini panties and groaned.
"I'll take that as a 'no'," she sighed.
Closing his eyes, he shook his head. His voice sounded strangled as he confirmed. "No, I don't." He took a deep breath and looked up at her again. "So we'll wait." Before she could protest, he continued. "We've waited this long, we can wait a little longer to make sure you're safe."
She felt something tighten in her chest. He was willing to wait. For her sake. Yeah, she definitely loved this man.
Suddenly, she snapped her fingers. "I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere." She was halfway across the living room when Steve's voice caught her attention. When she looked back at him, he held up the robe that he had grabbed from the end of the bed.
"I don't know where you're going, but I doubt you're exactly dressed for it."
She looked down at herself, blushing slightly as she reached for the offered garment. "Little distracted," she admitted, pulling the robe on and belting it around her middle as she left the apartment, taking the stairs to the next level down.
Several weeks back, she had returned to the tower after an extended stay on the hellicarrier and had gone looking for Cat. As reluctant as she was to admit it, she had missed the bad tempered beast. JARVIS had informed her that he was currently in Agent Romanoff's quarters and she found herself knocking at the door. The assassin opened the door, looking a bit red-faced and winded, and invited the agent in.
"I'm not interrupting anything, am I? Isn't Clint on assignment?" she asked, crossing over to where the scarred black tomcat rested curled up on a window seat. Maria was amused to notice that, in addition to the cat perch that had been attached to the window ledge, a new cat tree and scratching post sat in the corner.
Nat saw the direction of her gaze and shrugged. "He's been hanging out here while you and Steve have been out, so Clint figured we should make him feel at home."
"Thanks," Maria told her, reaching out to stroke the animal. He hissed at her, reaching out a paw to slap at her.
"Did he get you?" the red-head asked.
"No," Maria assured her. "Claws weren't out. He was just letting me know he's upset with me. I guess I've been gone a while." She turned back to the other woman. "Working out?"
Tasha laughed. "Sort of. While a king sized bed it great for sleeping and other things, I much prefer a twin when it's time to change the sheets."
"Need a hand?"
"I'm a master assassin, trained in martial arts, gymnastics, and dance. And I'm being beaten by a set of bed sheets," she sighed. "Yes, I would appreciate a hand."
With the two working together, they quickly had the fresh sheets on, in spite of the cat that had followed them in and hopped up in the middle. Maria scratched him for a few minutes, then picked him up and draped him over her shoulder as she tightened the top sheet and squared off the corners, military style.
"Would it pass inspection, Commander?" Natasha asked.
"Got a quarter?"
"Clint sometimes dumps his change in the nightstand drawer," she said, nodding towards the piece of furniture Maria was standing next to.
Maria had pulled the drawer opened, slightly taken aback to find it filled with boxes of condoms. None of her business.
"Not that drawer," the other woman told her.
"Obviously," the brunette answered, finding a coin in another drawer and neatly bouncing it on the taut bed sheet. "Perfect," she announced.
Romanoff looked at her, coming around the bed to pull the drawer open again. "Yes, Maria, I know I can't get pregnant. And we're both clean. But they keep things interesting sometimes." She picked up a box and showed it to the other woman. "Glow in the dark." Another box. "Assorted colors. Flavors." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Different ribbed patterns."
"TMI, Nat."
Laughing, she pushed the drawer closed and the two women went back to the living room to catch up on the recent events in their lives.
Maria pounded on the door to Natasha's quarters. After several moments, it was opened by Clint Barton, clad only in a thin towel draped around his waist.
"Hey, Maria. What can I do for you?"
"I need to talk to Nat," she told him.
"She's in the shower," he answered. "You want to wait? Or can I help you with something?"
They both knew that the red-head sometimes enjoyed a very long shower. Maria debated. She chewed on her lip for a moment, thinking about the man waiting upstairs for her.
"I need some condoms," she confessed.
Clint didn't laugh. Didn't question. Just smiled slightly and nodded, motioning for her to follow him back to the bedroom. He sat on the side of the bed and opened the drawer of the nightstand.
"Steve, I assume?"
Maria nodded.
Barton pulled out several boxes, finally finding the one he was looking for.
"Extra large," he told her. When she raised an eyebrow, he shrugged. "I've been in the locker room with the guy. We do notice, even though we say we don't."
As she reached to take the box, the were both startled by the sound of a cough. Turning, they saw Natasha standing in the door of the bathroom, covered only by the water droplets left by her shower.
"Let's see," she purred dangerously. "My lover, wearing only a rather small towel, in our bedroom, handing a box of condoms to a very beautiful, very disheveled, scantily clad woman. Some assassins would shoot first and ask questions later."
After several moments, Clint grinned at her. "Luckily for us, you're more restrained than that."
"And you like us," Maria added.
She finally grinned back at them. "Yes, there is that."
Maria held up the box. "Thanks," she told them, heading towards the bedroom door. As she passed the bathroom door, Natasha called her name. When she stopped, the other woman grabbed something out of a cabinet and handed it to her. She glanced at the package of lubricant and blushed slightly, again nodding her thanks.
"Sure you don't want to stay?" Nat called.
Maria didn't even bother to answer as she hurried back up the stairs to her own apartment. She opened the door to find Steve waiting for her. When she held up the box, he crossed to her, untying the belt of the robe and pushing it off her shoulders.
"Dare I ask where those came from?" he mumbled against her neck.
"Clint and Nat," she replied, finding it hard to focus as his hands began exploring again.
"Remind me to thank them later."
"Much later," she agreed.
"Much, much later," he added as he lifted her and headed towards the bedroom again.
And then, no more words were needed.
That's it for now. As always, thank you for your time, especially for allowing my little rant. I hope you enjoyed and that you'll take just a little more time to let me know what you thought. I appreciated you all. You're the cherry flavor in my cola. I think Risks is next. Time to figure out what Nick & Maria are up to next. They're being a little quiet at the moment.
