Okay, Chapter 2. Much appreciated the review for chapter 1. Here's the next chapter.
Risks Chapter 2
With one thing and another, it was several days before Fury and Hill got back to the subject of their early morning conversation. In fact, she might have thought it a product of her imagination had she not caught the occasional glimpse of him watching her. She even thought she might have noticed a slight smile, though the man was extremely difficult to read.
One afternoon, though, they found themselves alone in an elevator. She found herself glancing nervously towards him, relieved to find that he was watching her out of the corner of his eye.
She turned towards him at the same instant he cleared his throat and turned to face her.
"Agent Fury..."
"About the other day..."
They both spoke at the same time, then stopped.
He nodded to her. "Go ahead."
She started to insist he go first, then realized they were running out of time. She reached over and pushed the 'STOP' button of the elevator.
"Yes, Fury, about the other day..."
He nodded again.
"Are you still interested in further discussing the matter?"
"Most definitely," he told her. "What did you have in mind?"
She bit her lip, thinking. There weren't many options available offering the privacy they required.
"You could come by my quarters later. I'll even fix dinner."
He raised an eyebrow. "You cook?"
"No, just thought I'd offer," she retorted with a sarcastic look. "I'm quite capable of putting together a pretty decent pot of spaghetti, if that's okay with you."
"Sounds great," he replied.
Maria nodded and smiled, "Then it's a date...um, plan."
He reached over and restarted the elevator and they both composed themselves as it slid to a stop and the doors opened.
A group of waiting agents stepped back to allow them to exit.
"I'll bring the new intel reports by when I receive them," he called to her as they headed their separate ways.
Her day's work completed, Maria headed back to her quarters, alternating between excitement and nervousness over the evening ahead. After getting dinner started, she headed for the shower, spending a couple of extra minutes enjoying the relaxing spray. She reached in her closet for fresh clothes, but a splash of red caught her eye. She pulled out the bright slip dress that had been in the back for ages. She didn't even remember why she had purchased it. She considered it a moment, then put it back, slipping into sweat pants and a tank top before returning to the kitchen.
She checked the meal, then put together a salad and french bread and set the table. The red dress kept invading her mind.
Was it too much? Too forward?
What if he wasn't really interested in her that way?
Her mind went back to the kiss and she smiled.
He was definitely interested.
Before she could lose her nerve, she returned to the bedroom, pulled the dress from the closet again, stripped down, and slipped it over her head. She turned to look in the mirror.
'Oh, yeah. That was why she bought it.'
The color was perfect on her, contrasting with her dark hair and bringing out the pink of her cheeks and lips. She decided to leave her hair down, brushing it until it gleamed.
As she returned to the kitchenette, the door chimed and she glanced at the clock. Right on time. Checking the monitor, she saw him standing calmly outside her door, reading information on the data pad in his hand.
She paused a moment, considered running back to her room to change yet again, then took a deep breath and pulled the door open.
He looked up at her, then held up the data pad. "Thought you might want to look over these new intelligence reports we just received," he told her.
She looked confused for a moment until he looked up and down the corridor. Though no one was in sight, she thought it was probably best to play along.
"Yes, sir. Won't you come in?"
She stepped back, allowing him to enter. As she closed the door, he turned, finally getting a good look at her. His eye gleamed and a look of appreciation crossed his face.
"Though I might have a little trouble concentrating on those reports," he commented with a smile.
She blushed and looked down at herself.
"Sorry, sir. I'll go change."
He touched her arm as she started past him.
"Please don't. You look lovely."
"Thank you," she smiled up at him.
Silence stretched between them, finally broken by the 'DING' of a kitchen timer. She breathed a sigh of relief.
"Sounds like dinner is about ready."
"Anything I can do to help?" he asked, following her into the small kitchen/dining area and making it suddenly feel much smaller than it was.
"No, I think we're good to go. Just have a seat."
He did so, watching with interest as she moved around putting the finishing touches on their meal. He realized that, though he had known her and worked with her for years, he was suddenly fascinated to see another side of her.
She moved quickly and efficiently, transferring dishes from the counter top to the dining table, feeling his eyes on her the whole time. She pulled a tray of perfectly toasted french bread from the oven. As she set it on the stove top, the tray started sliding and she reached to steady it.
"OUCH"
She set the tray down, shaking her burned hand. Fury jumped up.
"What happened? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," she told him. "Just a little burn."
"Let me see."
"I'm fine."
With an exasperated sigh, he grabbed the injured hand and gently uncurled her fingers, examining the red mark. He pulled her over to the sink and carefully stuck it under cool running water.
"Leave that under there for a few minutes."
She nodded.
He crossed to the freezer, filled a dish towel with ice and brought it back to her. Turning off the water, he pulled her hand closer to look again.
Her stomach knotted as she noted his gentle treatment. 'Must be shock,' she told herself. 'Nerves.'
When he looked up at her, she discovered she was having difficulty breathing.
"You okay?" he asked.
'Breathe in. Breathe out. Repeat.' she told herself.
"Yeah. I've had worse," she told him.
"No doubt, but burns hurt." He took the ice pack and carefully wrapped it around her hand. "That should ease it some."
"Yes, it does. Thank you."
He ushered her over to the table and pulled out a chair for her.
She started back to the oven. "The bread..."
"I've got it," he replied, easing her down into the chair.
Once everything was on the table, he served their plates.
"Hey, this is pretty good," he told her.
"You needn't sound so surprised," she feigned hurt.
"Just didn't expect it."
"Had to go to cooking school for an undercover assignment once," she admitted. "Found out I had a little bit of talent for it and it relaxed me. Don't get to do it very often, but I enjoy myself when I do."
"Interesting," he commented.
She looked across at him. "Now it's your turn to reveal a deep, dark, secret."
"Nope."
"Then I'll make one up for you."
He glared at her, his eye a narrow slit.
Thinking a moment, she suddenly brightened.
"I know. You like to paint"
"No."
"Pictures of kittens."
"No."
"On black velvet."
"Hell, no." He paused for a moment. "Actually, I prefer puppies."
She grabbed her napkin to cover her mouth before a laughter filled water spray could escape.
Conversation flowed easily through the remainder of the meal. When they were finished, Maria rose and began clearing the table. Nick quickly follow suit, filling the sink with soapy water and sliding the dirty dishes in.
"You don't need to do that," she told him.
"Thought I'd give you a hand," he shrugged. "You probably should keep that hand out of the hot water."
"I'm really fine," she started to argue.
He looked at her. "Just say, 'Thank you,' grab a towel, and start drying."
Her mouth opened again, then closed. Then opened again. "Thank you."
They worked in silence, setting the kitchen to rights again. She dried the final platter, then stretched to return it to it's proper place. She sensed Nick move up behind her, reaching up to help push it the last bit onto the shelf.
Neither moved for a moment, then she turned, her hands coming to rest on his chest as his settled at the curve of her waist. Slowly, he lifted her to sit on the counter, leaning forward to capture her lips in a gentle kiss. When he raised his head and looked at her, she reached up and pulled his head back down to her.
Before it got too involved, she pushed him back.
"Too fast?" he asked.
Maria shook her head.
"No. I just need to know. What is this?"
At his confused look, she slid from the counter and took a seat at the table. He moved to sit across from her.
"Are we looking at starting 'something' or are we talking a 'friends with benefits' thing? Because I'm alright either way, I just want to know what I'm getting into. I want, no I need to know that we're on the same page here, that we both have the same expectations from this. I need to know if we're risking a really good working relationship for a little fun in the sack or for the possibility of something more. If we start something and it doesn't work, can we go back to where we are now or will I be looking for a new job? This is a big step and I just need a few answers before I take it."
Nick grinned at her. "Do you always get this talkative when you're nervous?"
She thought for a moment, then shrugged. "I don't know. There's not much that makes me nervous."
Leaning forward, he took her hand.
"Maria, I don't know where this might go. I'm not interested in the 'friends with benefits' thing, but I can't guarantee this will grow into what I would like for it to become. I'm very attracted to you but I never thought that someone as young and beautiful as you would be interested in a broken, scarred up old man."
"I'm not interested in a broken old man, Nick. I'm interested in you."
"Why?"
She smiled at him. "Because you tell it like it is. You don't flatter, you don't sweet talk, and you don't let me get away with anything. You don't let me intimidate you. You know me for exactly who I am and you still want to be with me."
"Funny. That's that same things that intrigues me about you."
She laid her other hand on top of his. "So now what?"
"I'd like to see where this can go, Maria, but I can't see the future. I can't make promises about what will or won't happen. It's up to you if we stay here or go forward."
Their gazes held for a few moments, then she rose from her chair and looked down at him. Slowly, she held out her hand. He stood, placing his hand in hers. She led him through the living area back towards the bedroom. She stopped in the doorway.
"By the way, I have protection," she told him looking up shyly.
"Me, too," he answered.
"Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you," she laughed.
His laughter joined hers. "Optimistically hopeful," he retorted.
Then, he lifted her in his arms and conversation stopped.
The end.
Okay, so I do appreciate the reviews I got, I'm greedy and I want more. Good? Bad? What do you think? Anyone interested it this or should I just leave it be? Feedback appreciated.