What Is and Isn't Mine
Tie a Yellow Ribbon Series - Part 1

The day Steve returns from the west coast – and yes, she knows because she may or may not have checked on his progress on top of the texting and calling that have become both habit and pleasant routine – he shows up at her apartment with two takeout cups from Starbucks.

"Maria."

She pretends his voice isn't filled with affection and relief, cursing the fact that the good captain has always been a terrible liar. "Steve. Welcome home."

She's irrationally angry at him, hurt that her moment of vulnerable pain in all but begging him to come home – at least the way she sees it – he'd waited three weeks to do it. But she can't deny that regardless of that, she is absolutely thrilled to see him. Even with his heavy bags under his eyes and the way his shoulders still look like they're carrying the weight of the world.

He could use a friend, she reminds herself because that is what they are. They are friends and she is strong enough to just get over whatever has her stomach melting at the little smile on his face and the way his fingers brush hers as he hands over the paper cup. She can give him friendship. It's a pipe dream to think she can give him more, even if everything in her is all but straining towards him. She is, however, more controlled than that and knows that she isn't really leaning forward, stepping closer.

His eyes are so blue and so warm as he says, "Come to the market with me."

Her brow crawls up her forehead as she takes her first sip. Glorious, glorious caffeine, even if it's her third hit for the day. Even on her days off she wakes early. "Are you bribing me, Captain?"

"Only if it's working, Lieutenant," he answers with a broad grin.

She hates the way the smile tugs at her mouth. He's too damn charming and she's too damn pleased at the attention for any of it to be healthy. So she hides it behind another gulp of coffee, eyeing him over the plastic lid. "The market?"

He leans against her doorframe, casual and damn attractive and she knows that the use of their official titles hasn't done anything to help her keep her distance. "There's one not far from my apartment. Um, old apartment."

Brooklyn.

"It's my day off."

He looks a bit chagrined. "I, uh, knew that."

It makes her blink because it feels deliberate. Like, he'd checked to make sure she'd be free before he showed up. It's entirely too significant, entirely too close to 'more than friends' and yet she doesn't close the door in his face. She tells herself she doesn't like the attention, but as he looks down at her, she knows it's a lie she's having a hard time believing.

"My very rare day off," she says, because if it is significant she's not going to make it easy for him. She is not easy, by any extent of the imagination and in her experience, men give up. "And you want to take me shopping."

"To the market," he corrects subtly and she thinks this would be a moment where a man attracted would reach for her, would settle a broad hand on her hip, maybe slide it up to her waist, even as he continues to lean casually against her door. She just barely suppresses the shiver that races pleasantly down her spine. "I'll make it worth your while."

And that does not help. He doesn't mean it the way it comes out, with an underlying heat and gentle tease. He doesn't think like that, even if her body goes into overdrive. But Maria Hill is nothing if not controlled and she stomps down on whatever it is. He's attractive, is all, and charming, and it's just a crush that she will get over because he's Captain America and she's very much not and anything other than a crush spells disaster of epic proportions. Her life is already in shambles; she's just putting it back together. She's not stupid enough to add another complication, no matter how wonderful he may be.

Even so.

"You want to cook for me?"

Because she's heard the rumours. Romanoff and Barton both. Pepper too, has bragged about some rather inventive and wonderful meals Steve's put together. She figures it makes sense. They'd boiled everything when he was last "alive" and she suspects that the leaps and bounds in culinary technology would be interesting.

"Consider it a thank you," he says. "For helping."

"I sent you information, Steve, you don't-"

"Not that."

It's soft and full of Captain America's conviction – the kind she'd heard on the helicarrier when he'd rallied the troops into battle – and it cuts her off quick. She takes a slow, deep breath. He glances away, then back at her. She can read everything on his face and finds herself swallowing around the lump that forms in her throat.

"Life's too short to let people live day to day not knowing they're important. So come to the market with me, let me make you dinner. Okay?"

And how is she supposed to say no?

So she dons jeans and a t-shirt, pulls a leather jacket on top and yanks her hair into a ponytail. Minimal makeup because it is still her day off and she is not dressing up, no sir, no way. He's waiting for her at her front door and stands as she locks up. He blushes when she catches him staring.

"Still not used to seeing you out of uniform," he admits. "It's… Nice."

"I own real clothes," she says, probably a touch too defensive.

He gives her a look that makes her feel like a chastised schoolgirl. "I know there's more to you than the soldier, Maria."

Her stomach drops and her heart flips, her pulse pounding loud in her ears as they take the elevator down. The implication is terrifying because it means he'd seen things in her she's only just now discovering for herself.

God, he's making it hard to take a step back here.

It's stupid, really. The fact that she's even developed these… feelings. She knows better, so much better, because he's good and pure and she comes from such a dark background that she's lucky she ended up on this side of the law and not the other. She works too much, shares too little, and puts her career before literally everything in her life. That is not the type of woman that fits Steve Rogers, good, wholesome Steve Rogers.

And it's all because of a bunch of phone calls and texts – a lot of phone calls and texts, plenty of them late at night where she irrationally lets him coax her into going home even though she has a ridiculous amount of work to do – that she's even entertaining his market date.

Day.

Market day.

Market morning.

The bike waits for them at the curb, like he knew he'd be able to convince her to come. She wants to be upset and angry at his presumption, but she sees Steve exchange a polite and friendly handshake with her doorman Andrew and knows she's been played.

"Pretty confident in yourself, Captain."

He grins and hands her a helmet. It is the worst ride through the city she's ever had. And by worst, she means best, because she's pressed up against Steve flipping Rogers and his very, very strong back and she is human and he is attractive. So yes, she enjoys the ride more than she should because, it dawns on her she's missed him. Genuinely missed him. His hand falls to hers as she grips tighter involuntarily. There's concern in his eyes when he pulls to a stop and they dismount. She doesn't play stupid, doesn't belittle him like that and offers him a small but entirely genuine smile.

"I'm glad you're home."

He shocks her completely by yanking her into him, wrapping his arm around her shoulders to hold her in place. It's just a hug, she tells herself, she can deal with a damn hug if it's what he needs.