NOTES: They say that breaking up is hard to do. Let me tell you, getting them back together was far more difficult! Day 12 of the 30 Days Of OTP Challenge - 'Making Out'.

Some Of Us Hover When We Weep For The Other

Maria waits until the crowds have gone, just as she did when they got Steve out of the ice.

There aren't as many people this time, but then Bucky Barnes is not quite the legend that Steve Rogers was. It only takes a matter of hours to clear the crowds, not days of people making excuses to be in the medical wing of New York Headquarters.

Once again, there's one man in the chair, one man in the bed. This time, though, Steve's the one sitting in the chair.

It seems fitting to have Steve taking Phil's role this time around.

Maria only intended to drop by to see Barnes – she's human, she's curious. Now that she's here, she can't quite resist the opportunity to watch Steve, though.

He looks tired – exhausted, actually, with deep shadows beneath his eyes and a grim set about his mouth, like he's grown bitter and old since they first realised the Winter Soldier was Bucky Barnes and Steve went all-out to find his friend.

Maria has this sudden urge to go in and gather him into her arms and stroke his hair and hold him tight.

That's not her right anymore.

Steve doesn't need her. Doesn't want her. Hasn't wanted her for the last two months, whatever he said before he went on the Madagascar mission. Besides, Clint mentioned that Sharon's been flirting with him – and, more importantly, that Steve's been flirting back. Maria's not sure if that was Clint's way of twisting a knife in someone else – they're S.H.I.E.L.D, they know how to be cruel when they're hurting – or a warning that she'd better get in there and claim 'her' man before he falls for Sharon.

It's not her place to claim Steve Rogers. She ended it, she can't complain when he doesn't want her anymore.

And didn't Maria know that would happen, sooner or later? She just...upped the timeline. No prolonging the agony, no gradual awareness that he wants to be somewhere else with someone else, just a clean, sharp cut. Better for everyone.

So why is she standing here when she has reports to sign off, missions to plan, skins to flay?

She begins to turn, then is arrested by movement in the room.

Steve is rising from the chair, his gaze on her face.

Maria fights back the urge to turn and walk away as he heads for the door. Steve steps out into the corridor.

"Hey."

"Hey." Maria forces herself to stay calm. It's not the first time they've spoken to each other since the Madagascar mission, but it's the first time they've spoken without an audience. She indicates the man in the bed. "How is he?"

Steve glances through the window. "The doctors say he'll be okay. Whatever they did to him – Zola, the Russians – it's helping. He's healing better than they expected." His gloved hand rests on the windowsill for a moment as he stares at the friend he lost all those years ago and never expected to get back. "He'd better pull through."

"Considering what Barnes has survived, I doubt he'd let anything as minor as a bullet take him down."

"Good old Bucky. God, I've missed him." He stares at his friend through the glass, and Maria's just about to make her excuses when he looks her way. "How are you?"

"Busy." She keeps her voice crisp and brisk to hide the sting of inanity. "The Kang situation has Fury all over the board, so I'm mostly on the helicarrier these days—"

"Maria." He takes her by the shoulders, and she stands very still because she wants to shrug him off – and because she wants to melt into his touch. "That's not what I was asking."

She doesn't want to answer what he was asking.

"I'm fine."

"So I see." He studies her face. "We never had that conversation after your month was up."

Maria aims for off-hand as she looks up at him. "Do we really need to?"

"I guess not," he says after a moment. "Although you never really gave a reason for why you wanted to end us."

"It wasn't working out—"

"That's an excuse," he says quietly. "Not a reason."

"Let's not have this discussion here..."

"All right." Steve straightens, and his hand cups her elbow, propelling her gently along the corridor. "In one of these side rooms, then."

"I'm kind of busy right now."

His hand tightens on her elbow, slight and subtle as he moves them in the direction of one of the side rooms along this corridor – medical consulting. "But you made time to come down here, so you have time now."

Damn. Steve pushes open the door to a nearby room, holds it open, and gestures her in. Maria enters with bad grace. He's trapped her into this, and they both know it. Still, as Maria leans against the desk with careful nonchalance, she knows they'd never be having this conversation otherwise.

Steve closes the door and leans against it. No getting out until he's satisfied. "What went wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Then why did you end it? It wasn't the Pikachu suit, you said. And you claimed it wasn't Thorpe either. So why did you cut me off?"

Maria reflects she should have expected Steve to strike for the heart. "Why does it matter?"

"Because you're not answering the question." He takes a deep breath and looks away. "And because you've clearly moved on, so I guess I have to, too. But I'd like to know why it ended. For courtesy's sake, if nothing else."

"It wasn't going to work out," Maria says at last. "We don't... We're not..."

"Compatible? Friends? Good in bed?" Steve's smile is mirthless. "You're making more excuses, Maria."

"I didn't need a distraction in my life. I still don't."

"And what I wanted didn't enter into consideration at all?"

I needed to protect myself. The words hover on her lips, but she can't say that. She drops her hands to the edge of the desk she's sitting on, grips it. "It was going to end sooner or later."

"Was it?"

"Yes, it was." God, he's exasperating! "Because you're Captain fucking America, and I'm—"

"Just Maria Hill?" His eyes rest on her face, too clear, too blue, too sharp. "You're telling me you ended it because you have a...an inferiority complex?"

"You've been spending too much time with Stark."

"And you're avoiding the topic. Did you figure you'd cut yourself out before I did? Maria?"

"Why does it matter now?"

"Because I'm still in love with you." The simplicity with which he says it is like a punch in the gut. "And I know you don't want me back, but I'd at least like to know if it was something I did or said which made you run away."

"I didn't run away."

"Yes," he says. "You did."

Maria feels the words filling her mouth, tries to sort through them to find the right ones to say. Only, she's not sure there are any right words for this. So she doesn't say anything.

"Natasha said something to me while we were looking for Bucky," Steve says when the silence grows too long. "That sometimes her heart wanted things her head knew was dangerous to who she needed to be to survive. And that it helped to have someone who understood that her head wasn't always in the right space for her to follow her heart."

"Did she tell Clint that?"

"Probably not," Steve says. "But she hasn't cut and run from him, so maybe she doesn't have to."

"I'm not Natasha."

"Which is why we're having this conversation." Steve's hands clench by his sides for a moment as he looks down and away. Then his hands unfold and press against the door behind him as he raises his head. "Okay, just tell me this – was any of it real?"

Maria has no idea what he's talking about. "What do you mean?"

"I mean you announce that we're no longer going to see each other, and less than a month later, I have another agent flirting with me." Steve grimaces. "The timing's a little...convenient."

She nearly laughs. Wow. That's a degree of paranoia that even she doesn't employ. "I can't speak for Sharon's motives, Steve, but if I'd been assigned to seduce you, I wouldn't have ended it."

"But because you weren't, you did?" He closes his eyes, and the frustration rolls off him like a wave before he opens them and look at her with a bitter twist to his mouth. "I guess that's it then?"

"Yes." She hopes her voice is flat enough to convey that she's tired of all this.

It's better this way – for both of them.

If she tells herself this often enough, maybe she'll believe it someday.

"So...may I go now?"

Steve pushes himself off the door and reaches for the handle, apparently prepared to wave her out – and probably close the door behind her – metaphor and physical action all in one.

Then his hand drops and he looks up at the ceiling. She hears him blow out a long, huffy breath. "Oh, what the hell—" He turns, takes two long strides across the room, and traps her up against the desk. "You can slap me for this later, okay?"

And his mouth comes down on hers.

Maria's forgotten just how fast he can move when he wants.

She's almost but not quite forgotten how he kisses – how he drowns her in need as he nips her open and sweeps his tongue in, then lingers as though she's a feast to be savoured. And it feels like it's been forever since— Her hands come up to push him away, but somehow end up clenched in his hair and curving over his shoulder – big muscle, hot and hard – like the body pressed up against her, like the weight of his hips in the cradle of hers.

Not fair, she whimpers in her head, even as her mouth moves on pure instict and unforgotten memory. Not fair at all.

And that's as far as her thought processes get, because her hormones are coming up trumps and she can't think when he's up against her like this, when his mouth is—and his hands are-

Steve kisses her like he's starving and he could eat her up with a spoon. Maria kisses him back like they're waging a war. Lips mould, tongues wrap, teeth scrape. He angles his head to give her the access he likes, and she takes it. His hands wrap around her waist and squeezes and she arches into his hips.

They're making out. Like horny teenagers. In a consulting room in S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters. Which isn't as bad as on the helicarrier where people are about at all hours, but still...

"Wait," she says, pulling away.

"I'm done waiting," he murmurs, still kissing her. Still rubbing against her. Which he can't really stop because she's sitting on the desk with one leg wrapped around him in case he tries getting away. Which he's not, because he's too busy kissing her. "You want me. I'll settle for that."

"You'll settle for—?" Maria pushes him away, panting. "What the hell is wrong with you, Rogers?"

"I'm not the one who decided we were breaking up because I was scared of something that hadn't happened yet!"

"I wasn't—" But that lie is just a little too big for her to say this close. Lies need distance, and Maria doesn't have any distance. It's why she blurts, "You're supposed to walk away."

"I don't want to." His hair is mussed, his cheeks are flushed, and that beautiful mouth is set in mutinous lines. "If you make me go, I'll go. But I'd rather stay."

"As fuck buddies?"

Steve hesitates. "If that's all you have for me, then, yes."

Settling. For less than he wants – less than he should have. Because Steve Rogers should have someone...nicer than her. Someone...softer. More willing to fit herself to him. Someone who isn't Maria Hill.

"Why would you want more from me?"

"Why do you find it so hard to trust that I do?"

Because the prince ends up with the sweet, good-natured princess, not with the bitch. That's the way the narrative works, isn't it?

Maria's never considered herself anything but a bitch.

Steve is watching her, then – apparently figuring that she's not going to notice – he kisses her again. Teasing, this time, delicate and coaxing. And Maria struggles with it for a moment, then lets herself lean into him. Delicate turns to deep, and coaxing turns to consuming, and God, she's missed this – missed him.

This time, it's Steve who breaks the kiss, pulling away enough just so he can look her in the eye.

"I won't push if you don't run," he says, and his voice is both a caress and a warning. "Deal?"

She can run, but she can't hide. And after this discussion she has a feeling there's nowhere to run anyway – even if she did, Steve would only come after her.

Goddamn heroes.

Maria sighs and lets her forehead rest against his. "Why the hell did it have to be you?"

And this time Steve laughs – or something like a laugh; it's really more of a choke – and his lips brush hers. "I missed you, too, Lieutenant."

fin

NOTES: I've been posting these a little behind when I write them, but after this, you're pretty much up to date: Day 13 is 'ice cream' and already posted elsewhere, however it cannot be posted at this site due to being rated NC-17 for explicit sex. Apologies, but we'll skip straight through to Day 14 - 'Genderbent'.