A/N: Part of a new series I'm writing that focuses on Maria's year at Stark Industries. I have another story (on the road to everywhere) in this series already, but that one is chronologically last.

operation fireworks

an unassuming proposition

Thursday June 26th, 2014 – 7:42 PM

Outside on the balcony of the Avengers' common floor, she sits with her back against the glass wall; torturous heels kicked off, and her legs stretched out in front of her. Her left hand idly plays with the almost empty beer bottle, while her right taps restlessly every so often on her phone. The slight warmth of the June air curls around her, and she lets out a soft exhale, immensely glad that the Avengers' floor requires special access.

She glances down at her phone as it beeps with an incoming message.

On the border of Russia and Belarus. Natasha's meeting us there. Sam says thanks for the new wings.

She allows a small smile to unfurl, fingers hovering over the screen.

Good. But I'll need her back by this Saturday. Keep me posted.

As an afterthought, she adds another line before sending. I should be saying thanks – it kept Tony busy for a whole week last month.

Swiping through her phone, she finds a game of chess to occupy her for the next fifteen minutes before she heads back up to her office for the remainder of the night. She lets her head fall back against the surprisingly cool wall, and drains the rest of her drink.

The glass door beside her opens silently, and Tony steps through, clad in jeans and a shirt she guesses was once white. He doesn't seem to see her; instead, he grabs his own bottle from the cooler on the other end of the balcony and pulls a cigarette from his pocket. She watches him from her end, as he stalks toward the railing and leans over, not quite precariously.

He lights the cigarette, blowing soft rings into the evening air.

"Agent Hill."

"Stark."

She offers no more than that, eyes drawn back to the game at hand. Her now-empty bottle sits next to her, condensation gradually pooling on the ground, spreading.

"Privatising global security is a bitch," he says, gulping down the beer in one go.

"What the fuck did you expect?" She snorts, still concentrating on the screen, moving her queen to take her opponent's knight. "We tried it with the backing of various government bodies, and look what happened."

"I wasn't talking about the politics," he responds irritably. "I meant the tech."

She moves a few more pieces around, traps the king with her bishop and a pawn. Finally, she glances up at him. "What have you tried?"

He continues to stare out and down past the balcony. "Upgrading the Legion. Installing defence protocols in hotspots." He pauses, before adding carefully, "Ultron."

Game over, her screen flashes.

"We're still a fair way from needing something like Ultron," she cautions, tucking her phone away.

"I'm just fiddling around," he says defensively.

She nods once, "Let me know what you end up with."

The smoke rings spiral around his head, and he tilts his head up, watching them slowly disappear. Bored, but trying to keep his mind active, he mentally makes a checklist of all the members of his team, and their whereabouts. Bruce – in Korea. Thor – London? Barton – doing hawk things. Romanoff – don't want to know. Cap – hunting?

"Where's Rogers now?"

"Europe."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Ask him yourself, you gave him a phone," she shoots back. "Or, don't you have a tracker on the rest of the Avengers?"

He gives her a filthy look. "That was your job."

"Not anymore," she says. "You should care."

"As should you. My company doesn't need you. So why the hell are you here?"

"Oh, I couldn't bear to miss the stellar banter," she says dryly.

He smirks. "Touché."

She glances down at her watch and lets out an almost inaudible sigh. "I'm heading back up. I'll see you at the board meeting on Monday."

He looks at her for a moment. "It's Cap's birthday next week," he says suddenly. "So, we need to do something."

"He's in Europe looking for Barnes. I don't think he's going to care too much about his birthday." She stands up, gracefully balancing to put on her shoes. "And you don't need a reason to throw a party. God knows you'll do it anyway."

"Tell him to come back."

"Did you miss the part where I said he's looking for his best friend?"

"I have a thing I need him to check out," he continues blithely. "It'll… make the team work better."

"Banner's flying in tomorrow."

"And it's Cap's birthday," he repeats. "Did you not hear a fucking word I said?"

"Seriously?" She raises an eyebrow. "I just said—"

"—Yeah, I heard. But the guy doesn't want to be found."

"Not the point," she says, curt.

"Never took you for the sentimental type, Hill. Would have thought you'd have just told him that," he says, tossing his bottle into the bin of empty bottles.

"He needs to go find him," she replies calmly. "I'd rather wait until his head's back in the game."

He falls silent at that, in reluctant agreement. "I need a fucking break," he mutters, stubbing out his cigarette.

"You weren't even involved when we blew up S.H.I.E.L.D.," she says, amused smile playing on her lips.

"Yeah," he huffs.

She turns to leave, hand already pushing on the glass. "Look, I'll send him a message."

"Really?" He blinks, slightly taken aback.

"Yes," she says, tired. "I'm not your goddamn keeper."

"Just didn't think you cared enough," he explains bluntly.

"Not about what you think, no," she shakes her head. "But enough to keep your team functional."

"Of course. Knew there was I reason I hired you."

"Plan whatever you want. Just be prepared that half the team may or may not turn up," she smirks once, before disappearing through the door.