Disclaimer: I don't own The Avengers.
Wow! Thanks so much for all the responses! It was really surprising, in an awesome way! I really hope that y'all enjoy this next installment in this fic of mine! Thanks so much for reading!
Eleventh Hour
Chapter Two: The Consequences
Fully embarrassed and fully tired, Maria watched with a slight twinge of delirious amusement as Steve Rogers attempted to work her cellular phone.
His brows were furrowed together, wrinkling his forehead in an unbearably funny way. His clear eyes were concentrated entirely on the smart phone, fingers pressing against the touch screen with curious intent. He poked and prodded at the electronic device as if it were a creature from another planet. Seriously, this could be a hit on youtube, had she the will to film it. And had she the complete fearlessness of the hell Fury would wreak upon her in response.
"Do you need me to do that?" she asked finally, begrudgingly. This was possibly the most fun she'd had in weeks, believe it or not. Just watching him try to manage something so modern was something that amused her to no end.
"I think I..." he trailed off. "Oh! It's dialing!"
He placed it to his ear, listening intently for the other person to pick up. She couldn't keep the smile off her face as a quizzical look passed over his, shrouding his handsome features in confusion. "Clint?" he asked in shock.
"Oh, give me that," Maria said, jerking the phone from his grasp. She identified herself and explained the situation, apologizing for Steve's clear mixup with dialing. A few more clipped words from Clint and then the whole thing was fixed. She hung up and then looked at Steve with a cutting glance as he reached for the phone again. "No," she scolded.
"Why not?"
"Did you see what just happened?" she asked.
"Well, yes, but..."
Maria rolled her eyes a bit, the smile still on her face, as she scrolled down to Fury's number in her contacts. She pressed the 'call' button and held up a finger to Steve, as if shushing him.
Fury's voice sounded over the line, rushed and deep, a tinge of eagerness that was most likely associated with her current stalking-mission. Before he could even ask her what was up, she cut straight to the chase.
"Fury, my cover's been blown."
The sharp retort almost sliced directly through her eardrum. Maria winced as she held the phone away from her ear. She clicked the 'speaker' button and Fury's fury was automatically magnified. Steve winced at the proximity, giving Maria a sympathetic look that she tried not to focus on for too long.
"What the hell, Maria! You're an agent! Stealth is supposed to be one of your traits! Has Rogers gotten away from you? I doubt he's too happy to find out I've put a babysitter on him. Dammit!"
"Er, well, sir, I never thought of it that way..." Steve spoke up.
"Is that Rogers?" Fury's voice sounded, a mix of surprise, relief, and anger. "Where are you two, anyway?"
"Motel room."
"Aw, damn, Maria. What have I told you about mixing business with pleasure - "
"Why the hell does everyone think I'm a slut that has rendezvous at gross motels like this!"
"...I don't think that of you, Agent Hill."
Maria slapped her forehead at Steve's innocent response, though it did make her feel better than she had, especially when thinking of the woman at the front desk and Fury's comments about the whole motel-and-beautiful-man situation. Her cheeks were flushed - something she hoped Steve hadn't noticed - and she quickly relayed the situation to Fury in quick, clipped sentences.
"You put a tracking device on my motorcycle?" Steve gaped at her.
"Necessary evil," she replied swiftly. "What would you have me do next, sir?"
There was a pause over the line. Maria thought briefly that he had hung up on her in his disbelief and anger.
Just when Maria was about to hang up on him, he spoke, "Stay together. It's safer if you two are together."
"Safer?" Maria blurted. "He's Captain America."
"We've had this discussion, too many times," Fury replied, exasperated. "Stay with him. Help him out. I dunno...do whatever. Just don't get into trouble. Don't get yourselves killed."
"Trouble's my middle name," Steve pointed out. And..was that sarcasm coating his tone?
"Damn, so he does have a sense of humor," Fury responded. Maria could almost picture him shaking his head in amazement.
The conversation went on a while longer, with Maria explaining what exactly went wrong. With Steve's input. Apparently, a few days ago, she had forgotten to leave a fake name when signing into the hotel and he saw it while signing out the next day; he put two and two together when he glimpsed her sneaking into the same restaurant he stopped at for lunch two days ago.
"I'm not necessarily stupid, sir," he said, not unkindly.
Fury scoffed at that. "I know that."
Steve rolled his shoulders and then gave a yawn. It was then Maria realized the hour. Ten o'clock. It was too early for Maria to even think about sleeping. She had always been a bit of an insomniac, but it looked as if Steve had already passed his bedtime. She found that fact slightly...endearing.
"Well, I guess I should let you two go. I heard Steve yawning even over the phone. Keep me updated."
"Yes, sir."
And, just like that, Fury hung up. Everything was resolved. Everything so different that Maria couldn't believe things had ever been like they were just a few hours ago. Maria mashed the 'end' button on her phone and then quickly stowed it away in one of her pockets. She looked at Steve, keeping her face professional. "So...I suppose I'll see you in the morning? I trust you won't ditch me."
He gave her a tired smile. "No, I wouldn't do that."
"I'll take your word on it."
"A man is only as good as his word," he randomly stated. Probably out of sleep-deprived delirium.
Maria gave him a smile. "Goodnight."
As she headed to the door, she was stopped by a puzzled voice. "Where are you going?"
Turning, she cocked her head to the side, equally as puzzled by the question posed. "To my room."
Steve was sitting on his bed, his hands folded in his lap, looking rather proper. She chalked it down to the timeline he was originally from. He didn't look like he was going to give up any more than he needed to.
"Why?" she prodded, curious.
"I just...thought...since I know, that it didn't make much sense for us to have...separate rooms."
This caused her to outright grin. His sleepy eyes were trained on her, and she wondered if he would even remember this conversation in the morning. Nonetheless, she answered, "There's only one bed here, and I've already paid for my room."
Steve had the awareness enough to look flustered. "Sorry, ma'am."
She ignored the fact he called her ma'am, of all things.
"Don't worry about it," she said. "Just get some sleep."
He smiled at her. "Goodnight, Agent Hill."
Maria gave him a nod before opening the door and stepping out - and coming face-to-face with the old woman from the front desk.
"Aw, geez," Maria sighed.
The old woman looked at her with something akin to perversion. Maria couldn't really tell. She just assumed the lady was just as crazy as her attire let on. Bright colors arranged in the shape of various fish assaulted her eyes, and the woman tapped a long pink nail against her shoulder. "I knew you two were bumping uglies." And then she laughed, the sound like the Wicked Witch on drugs. Maria fought the urge to be sick.
"Shut up," she told her, before marching, back ramrod straight, to her room. She unlocked the door and shut it behind her, grateful to get away from that woman. She hoped that Steve had locked his door at least. If she were to get into his room...now, that would be a disaster.
Maria let herself stand there, breathing softly in and out, until she pressed her palms against her eyes. This whole situation was ridiculous. Though she didn't originally like her mission at first, she would feel bad if she just left Steve out of the blue, and she was glad that Fury actually ordered her to stay. Leaving him now felt...criminal.
Flipping on the light, she took in her surroundings. A small bed, made up neatly. A nightstand. A desk with a chair. A lamp. A small television. A door in the corner that led to what she assumed was a bathroom. But she wouldn't have put it past that crazy old woman if the room the door led to was a torture chamber, or a secret passageway to each and every room in the motel. The vague stirrings of some horror movie she had watched long ago crept through her mind, but she ignored it. She was confident she could kick that lady's ass, no problem.
Knowing sleep was far from capturing her, Maria lowered herself onto the bed and turned on the television. She glanced at the small sack she had brought with her, deposited on the floor next to her feet. It held nothing more than the necessary things - change of clothes, toiletries, and other basic items.
She decided on taking a shower that morning, and opted to wander about the room, ending up at the desk. Maria flicked on the lamp and brought out the small notebook she carried with her in which she logged the details of this particular mission.
On the next blank page, she wrote the date, time, and simply - Cover blown.
As Maria listened to the chattering of the television, she wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing.
End Chapter Two.