December 1, 2014

Maria presses herself against her massive office doors with a relieved sigh. It's barely 1 and she already feels wrung out. It's stupid, really. She's dealt with much worse, dealt with crazier days and certifiably crazy people, but she can't say she's wholly sure how to deal with this.

This being a bunch of disgustingly rich shareholders and her well-meaning personal assistant. Actually, that's not wholly true either. She knows exactly how to deal, with the shareholders. SHIELD's bureaucracy has at least helped her there. Henry, well, she learned long ago to pick her battles. He's too good to fire and she can deal with the Santa's village that is Henry's carefully patrolled territory so long as he continues to be her pit bull. At least for the next 25 days.

She pushes off the door and kicks off her heels, lamenting for just a moment the fact that Stark Industries requires a business dress she has only ever employed during the most ridiculous of political evenings. Her stockings don't make a sound as she pads across the plush carpet and pulls up short as she rounds the desk. The coffee isn't really a surprise.

The candy cane is.

It's not the first time she's been left these little things. She's too damn good at both her job and intelligence gathering not to know who's at least partially responsible for these little gifts. She and Steve are close - terrifyingly close, closer than be should, even if she's ignoring the new feeling of intimacy that's threaded through their friendship since the tabloids printed that got damn article about their trip to the market - and he's lectured her more than once on how hard she works. The fact that she knows he's not saying it out of any masculine domination and is merely trying to get her to take a break from her 90-hour work weeks is the only thing that's kept her from punching his rather impressive jaw.

The candy cane, however, doesn't fit with the muffins and sandwiches that have been the staple. She can't say the note is exactly his style either, but the slanted writing is definitely his.

Call me.

Her heart jumps into her throat. She can't help it. Her gut churns irrationally - it's Steve, even his worst shouldn't make her so anxious - and her fingers tremble hard enough to piss her off. It's just a candy cane asking her to do something she does every other day. But this feels different. Not intimate, but significant. Like whatever he wants to talk about has the potential to send her running and he wants to give her the space to do so.

She is, however, not a coward. She settles in her seat, brushing her fingers over the candy cane as she puts the phone to her ear.

"Hey."

Definitely significant. His tone is wary, almost reluctant. "Hey."

There's a beat and she takes it to lean back. She focuses on the candy cane, on twirling it in her fingers. It's been a long time since she's had a candy cane. When he's not too forthcoming, she rolls her eyes. She can't help it.

"Spit it out, Rogers."

"I have an advent calendar."

"Okay…" What the hell would that have to do with her? She's pretty sure Steve doesn't need her help to eat a piece of chocolate every morning.

"I made it."

That doesn't surprise her either.

"It's things to do really. Natasha made me a list. And I talked to Pepper-"

"Steve."

"I want you to do it with me."

Her breath catches. It's a strange feeling, really. There's no reason it should. They've been spending too much time together, time that she's not stupid enough to think doesn't mean a damn thing. It has meant more than a damn thing, it has meant everything.

But this… This is a recipe for disaster.

"Steve, I-"

She hears the breath he blows out. God, she hates disappointing him. It's just a monumentally bad idea. That much time together, doing simple things, because he's a simple man and not prone to frills, given what she is very, very aware is already brewing between them?

"You know it's not a good idea."

God, she'd been stupid to even humour him, that day and every day beyond. Because at the root, they can't be good together. She's been selfish, clinging to the one good and constant thing in her life while the rest of it feels like it's all tumbling down. And true to form, now it's coming back to bite her in the ass. She doesn't want to hurt him, but what he wants from her all but guarantees that. It always has. She cannot ruin him. She won't. And she won't give either of them a chance to.

"You promised me you wouldn't run."

She sucks in a deep breath. She remembers that day so vividly, his hands on her hips, hers on his face. She remembers the impulse, the emotion, the the yearning that had spread through her chest as she'd looked at the damn picture, as she tried to reassure him she didn't hate him. She remembers the look in his eyes too, the banked heat and sparking determination. She hears that determination in his voice now.

It should scare her.

It does scare her.

It also thrills her.

"You knew."

Because she's not blind or stupid and she can't say he's really been hiding it. "Yes."

He waits a moment, like he's letting it sink in. Then, "How about we make a deal?"

She waits, the candy cane heavy in her hand.

"You get veto power."

"What?" she asks on a laugh.

"Veto power," he repeats. "We take it one day at a time and you can always say no."

Her heart hammers, trying to escape her ribs.

"All you have to do is ask," he tells her. "If - when it gets too much, you say the word, okay?"

She twists the candy cane in her fingers. "Steve-"

"Maria."

She knows that quiet conviction. Her mouth all but snaps shut. She wonders if he's heard the way her teeth click.

"I want to try." His voice is quiet, but the underlying tone is solid, significant. "I want you to give us a chance. But if you need a break, you ask and it happens."

He means it, and not just in an abstract way. She could ask him right now, tell him it's a terrible idea - it is - that it's insane - because that's true too - and he would listen. She'd disappoint him, but he wouldn't push any harder and he wouldn't hold the past months and everything they've meant against her.

She can't make the words form.

He is patient, has been patient while she's let them dance in this limbo where she pretends they're just really good friends and she doesn't see the heat flare in his eyes when she stands too close. He's done with limbo.

And it's not like this is particularly new or different as a routine. They spend a ridiculous amount of time together in a week, and there are many nights, the ones where they don't see each other after work, where they talk and text until one of them passes out. She can't count the number of times he's stayed up with her during her bouts of insomnia. She can acknowledge that at the base of it, it wouldn't be much of a change.

The intent, however. Well, that's more complicated.

"Think about it," he says quietly. "Think about it and call me tomorrow."

He knows she will.

"And Maria?"

She hums her acknowledgement, wary of the smile she can hear in his voice.

"Try not to chew through your lip."

He hangs up on her exasperated growl.

But later that night, some stupid movie flashing on her television, Maria opens her candy cane and wonders what else he has planned.

Okay! For those of you who don't know the drill, welcome to my annual Christmas fic! 25 chapters over 25 days. Sometimes I win, sometimes, like the last 2 years, I have failed to complete the fic on time. I'm hoping this year for the former, but.

A chapter a day is the usual goal. If I miss a day, you're likely to get two or three in a 24 hour period while I catch up, depending on how far behind I am. The goal is to update every day by 10AM, but as a warning, you're more likely to get the update via AO3 or Tumblr than here, unfortunately. I'm getting into bad habits of not actually cross posting here and just leaving everything on AO3.

Reviews are love. I wish there was a like button 'cause I almost like that better.

But most importantly, enjoy!