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"I need a place to lay low."
That's what Natasha had said, voice raised high over the rain, as she'd stood defiant on Maria's doorstep, baseball cap pulled low over the bright shock of her hair.
Maria had simply stepped back, allowing her over the threshold.
Come into my web, said the spider to the fly. Yet somehow, in her own home, Maria felt like the one being ensnared.
Maria had been following the debate around the Accords, of course, but she'd been stuck observing from afar, hadn't been given the say-so by Nick to get involved. Sometimes, loyalty was a curse.
On second thoughts... it had led to this. Staying out of the fight meant that Nat was here, sat at her breakfast bar, feeding Maria's cat scraps. The two of them had become partners in crime. Traitor, Maria shook her head as Liho took another bite from Nat's palm, rather than using the bowl Maria had just filled for her.
She must have made a sound of annoyance, because Nat glanced up at her with a smile alighting her face, one eyebrow raised as if to say 'I know what you're thinking, Hill.'
And Maria looked at her, the Black Widow, perched on a stool, bundled in mismatched pyjamas, and almost unwittingly, her own expression softened into an echoing smile.
"It's just because you spoil her," Maria said, drinking the last of her latte. "I'm still the favourite."
Liho purred, rubbing her head against Nat's hand.
"Whatever you need to tell yourself, Hill," Nat replied. The evidence was right there, after all.
They'd settled into something of a routine, over the past few weeks.
Maria was up early, always, a deep-wired habit from her Marines days. She still made her bed to military precision most mornings, carried along on muscle memory, in that dreamlike haze before you're solidified in the here and now. Some things were hard to shake.
So Maria would be up first, waking with the city, and that meant coffee, the aromas of which snapped Nat to consciousness like an old damsel with her smelling salts.
She had voiced this comparison, once, and in retaliation Nat had stolen away with both the coffee and Liho into the guest bedroom. Traitors, she lived with traitors! It had taken Maria an age to barter for her caffeine fix that day, to extract it from Nat's room. She'd headed up less stressful hostage negotiations.
How Coulson had ever managed the combined antics of Nat and Barton, she'll never know.
Maybe she should check in with Coulson. It had been a while. She could do with some advice.
Nat stood from the breakfast bar, stretching out those pesky morning muscle kinks. Maria watched as the material of Nat's t-shirt (actually, it was her shirt. Nat kept acquiring her clothes, somehow) stretched over the curve of her breasts, and Maria pointedly turned away. She dreaded being mistaken for one of those people who just looked at Nat's body, and saw nothing of her other qualities. She worried that Nat would catch her lingering looks, and think her appearance was all she noticed, or, worse, that it was why Maria had let her into her home in the first place. Nat had encountered enough of those idiots, over the course of her career. Maria didn't want her to think she'd stumbled upon another one.
Oh, I definitely need some advice.
Maria busied herself with washing up their breakfast things, head a cacophony of thoughts. Her analytical mind was useful for work, sure, but for other matters? Well, it had made her into an eternally single over-thinker who doubted even her cat's allegiances. Urgh.
Nat came up behind her, dropping her cutlery into the sink, her hand brushing gently across Maria's wrist. Maria tried not to react, it was obviously just an accident, but she yearned to lean into the touch, to just be close to Nat, to tangle in her atmosphere.
Just that simple touch sent Maria's thoughts flailing. Pull it together, Commander. Nat's hand was barely there, gone in an instant, and then she was bounding down the hallway towards the shower. That was another thing she'd learnt, over the past weeks. Nat could move silently when it was called for, of course, but in the mornings, before the weight of her predicament settled over her, she moved freely, aimlessly, even.
Sometimes, Maria couldn't believe that it was her house Nat had come to. They had worked together a long time, and it had been comfortable. Not long after Nat had been recruited, they'd talked for hours on a dead-end stakeout in Albania, muttering over the crackle of the comms. They'd been reluctant to chat, initially, but an offhand jibe about Coulson's then-new moustache (it was for a cover, he'd insisted, but soon after their comments it had been mysteriously shaven off) had them stifling laughter, and that was all it took. From that moment on, the 'stakeout shooting the shit session' became a point of pride for the two of them; they even wrangled their own comm frequency for it (thank you, easily-swayed tech geeks).
So they'd become friendly, sure, friends even. They'd hung out at Barton's crappy building in Bed-Stuy, eating pizza and watching Dog Cops. Beating up the occasional Tracksuit Mafia gang. Y'know, normal friend things. They had a low-maintenance friendship. One that required no heavy emotional lifting, but meant that if, say, they were on injury leave, they'd visit one another, play video games, steal each other extra pudding from the SHIELD infirmary kitchens.
Given that precedent, opening her door to find Nat in need of a place to stay had Maria re-evaluating all the time they'd spent together. Did she have a crush on Nat? Sure, she was adult enough to admit it. Did she value their time together? Of course, it was fun, and Nat had a wicked sense of humour, complete with the brains and skills to kick ass on their joint missions. Would she help her in any way she could? Always. Was she content with the friendship they had? Yes, definitely. Well... mostly.
It didn't matter though, and besides, Maria had no idea if Nat even liked women. She'd watched her seduce them when undercover, but she'd also seen her seduce decrepit, chauvinistic businessmen, so that was no way to judge her interests.
Maria let out a sigh, placing the last of the washing up on the side to drain. She dried her hands quickly, picking up her phone before she could change her mind, and sent off a quick message to Coulson.
How are the Rugrats doing? Need me to kick them into shape?
Maria had barely put her phone back on the counter before it lit up with a response.
They're fine, Maria. You knew that, though. What do you really want to talk about?
Damn Coulson, and damn his fricking intuition. Maria tapped her fingers against the counter, deciding on a response. Oh, fuck it.
did Nat always infuriate you? Asking for a friend. P.S. on a completely unrelated note, how do you deal with being under the same roof as the woman you're attracted to, when you have no idea how she feels?
Maria hit send before she could think about it, an instant jolt of regret sparking in her stomach. She put her phone back down.
Waited.
And waited...
Nothing.
Maria picked her phone back up again, typing rapidly.
Coulson I swear if you show that to anyone I'll leak the photos from Budapest.
There, that was better. She had a reputation to uphold after all. And then, a minute later, she added, You know I'll do it. Yet still, no reply.
"Hey," Nat said suddenly, appearing this time in that trademarked silence.
"Hey," Maria said, in what she hoped was a normal tone, though it sounded a bit shrill, to her own ears. How this woman rattled her. If her agents could see her now, they'd be stunned. She tucked her phone into her pocket, looking up at Nat, who'd changed into workout gear, her hair damp and curling, pulled back into a ponytail.
"So, sparring?" Natasha prompted.
"Right," Maria replied. Nat gave her the once over, and Maria peered down at herself in confusion. She was still in her pyjamas. "Ha, give me five minutes." Wow, real clever Hill.
Maria rushed around getting changed, dropping her phone onto her bedside table, pushing her questions to Coulson out of her mind. This was just a normal part of the day, voluntarily getting her ass handed to her by the Black Widow.
It had started as a way to tamper down Nat's restlessness, after the buzz of her time in Berlin, and given that they both worked out daily, it seemed silly to not just do it together.
For some reason, I foresaw no complications. Maria marvelled at her own stupidity as Nat pinned her to the mats, her legs straddling Maria's hips. This was her life now. They'd sparred at SHIELD, but it had been different. Then, they'd been surrounded by a whole host of other agents —Maria was Deputy Director, and combined with Nat's reputation, they garnered quite the crowd— but now, it was just the two of them, in the little gym in Maria's building. She'd literally never seen another soul in here. Which was great, usually; she enjoyed the peace and quiet, hated small talk with a passion. Now, though, it meant there were no distractions from the way Nat felt, thighs flexing around Maria's hips, the muscles taut, a wicked grin on her face.
"Getting tired already, Deputy?" Nat asked, voice laced with amusement.
"I'm just lulling you into a false sense of security," Maria retorted, breath coming fast. Though, in all honesty, she couldn't move if she wanted to. Not that she wanted to.
"Don't go getting soft on me, Maria," she replied, and her name in Nat's mouth was a revelation. It was so rare to hear it from her. To Nat she was always 'Hill', 'Commander', 'Deputy'. The last time she'd called her ‘Maria’, she'd had been close to bleeding out, stuck in a kill zone in Colombia, her voice pained over the comms.
Having Nat resting across her hips felt every bit as dangerous as that day, so Maria supposed it was only fitting, to hear her name once more.
"I wouldn't dream of it," Maria smiled, formulating her plan. Sparring she could do, she was good at, if not Widow good. Professional exercise, Maria told herself...
Professional exercise? She wondered, when minutes later she miraculously had Nat pinned against the wall, when she knew for a fact the Avenger could escape.
"Impressive," Nat muttered, looking down at the place where their bodies touched, and Maria wondered if she meant the manoeuvre or something else entirely.
Coulson better fucking text me back.
***
Coulson hadn't texted Maria back.
The day was settling into evening, dusk casting its shades of pink over Maria's apartment, and still, she had no reply.
After their sparring session, which had ended abruptly with a tremendous move from Nat, they'd gone about their day in quiet harmony.
This wasn't unusual, they were deep thinkers, the both of them, and the chaos reigning over their careers demanded some serious attention. Nat would disappear, sometimes, and return looking even more concerned, an expression that had Liho fussing around her even more than usual.
Maria never asked where she'd been. She had her suspicions, but demanding answers from Nat was a line she wouldn't cross. She would tell her, if she needed to, when she was ready.
Even so, they'd made a habit of coming together in the evenings, cooking dinner (or getting takeout, more likely), settling in front of the TV with something stupid to clear their heads of the mounting bureaucracy of super-heroism.
Tonight, Nat had fetched Chinese food after a long outing, and they were feasting on far too many dishes, watching a pretentious cooking show they liked to mock mercilessly.
"Don't put more fucking truffle on that, you idiot," Nat shouted at the chef on-screen, gesturing wildly with her dumpling. They were sat together on the couch, a few blankets spread over them, and every so often their feet would intertwine. Maria went very still, every time that it happened.
"Just wait for it, he'll get what's coming to him," Maria said, as if sentencing a criminal to justice. Nat looked over, nodding in faux-serious agreement. Maria raised her carton of chow mein in salute.
This was easy, and familiar, and right. She almost expected Barton to appear, pursued by mobsters, just to really fine tune the ambience.
***
Later, when victory had been asserted over their meal, Nat and Maria were nestled under their blanket mountain, talking quietly, some other programme on the screen, long forgotten.
"-just don't know how to help them," Nat was saying, discomfort at the admission apparent on her face, at the crease in her brow.
"What did Steve say?" Maria replied, sensing the delicacy of the situation. This wasn't their usual forte.
Nat rolled her eyes, "how do you know I've seen Steve?"
"Well, I can't think of any other guys in their nineties with an amnesiac buddy stowed away that you might have been catching up with,” Maria drawled. Nat threw a cushion at her head.
"I didn't even mention his 'buddy'," Nat said, placing emphasis on the air quotes.
"Exactly," Maria said. "You haven't got many tells, Nat, but the way you cipher intel is one of them."
"I've killed people for saying less than that, Commander," Nat replied, but the ridiculous wiggling of her eyebrows sort of undercut the threat.
"Liho will protect me," Maria said, wrapping her arms around the sleeping fluffball on her lap. Was this flirting? It felt like it could be flirting.
"Wow. I'm terrified," Nat droned.
"Seriously, though, what happened with Rogers?"
“He’s in over his head. Every time he nearly gets Barnes back, there comes a reason for them to tear themselves away from each other.”
“Imagine, loving someone for so long…” Maria muttered, carding her hand through Liho’s fur. She felt the rumble of her contented purr.
Nat made a noise of disbelief.
“What?” Maria asked, looking across at her.
“You know, about the two of them?” Nat put her hands out in front of her, clasping them together, apparently her symbol for super soldiers in love.
Maria huffed. “Yeah, Nat, I’m pretty sure anyone who’s looking in their direction can tell. Besides, I worked with Cap too, y’know, and we both know he’s got a shit poker face.”
(She meant that both figuratively and literally. A few years ago a group of very drunk agents —Maria included— had thought it would be hilarious to play a game of Spy Poker with their resident Avengers. Same rules as Texas Hold 'em, but with the added complication of professional bluffers. Steve had lost a lot. Maria had an extra motorcycle in her garage to prove it.)
“Wow,” Nat said simply, sitting up and taking a swig of her drink.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Maria asked, laughing.
“Nothing…”
“Nat, c’mon.”
Nat placed her glass back on the coffee table, then took a steadying breath. “I just don’t understand how you can see that, but not me.”
Maria’s laughter melted away, and she made a stuttering noise that probably sounded something like, “hrrngh?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Nat waved her hand, a dismissal, standing and starting to gather the empty take-out cartons. Liho jumped down from Maria’s lap, startled awake, twirling herself around Nat’s legs.
“Nat, I see you,” Maria said, not sure where this was going. Did Nat think that she didn’t understand the chaos that had led to her coming here?
“How can you see me when you’ve barely even been looking at me for weeks,” Nat said, adding something else under her breath that Maria couldn’t make out.
Maria stood from the couch, blankets pooling at her feet. “What the hell are you on about?” she said, grasping Nat’s elbow, turning her to face her. A myriad of expressions fluttered over Nat's face, before settling into something like resolve.
“You’re so fucking infuriating,” Nat declared, and then, before Maria could form a retort, Nat was kissing her.
Maria gasped into the kiss, mind short-circuiting, and Nat made use of the leverage to run her tongue along Maria’s lower lip, captivated by the taste of her.
Maria brought her hand up to Nat’s hair, twirling the short strands at the nape of her neck around her fingers. Nat smiled into their kiss, nipping at Maria's bottom lip. Maria took a step forwards, feeling her chest settle against Nat's, bringing her free hand to rest against the side of Nat's ribcage. The hand in her hair worked down to the bottom of Nat's neck, marvelling at the soft skin there, relaxing beneath her touch. Nat grasped onto Maria’s waist, pulling their hips together in a way that had Maria moaning at the impact. She stumbled backwards, and there was a clattering sound as something fell to the floor, sending Liho yelping. Nat laughed into her mouth, and to Maria it tasted like sunshine.
Maria sank back onto the couch, pulling Nat with her, who settled with her thighs bracketing Maria’s hips. As Maria had longed to earlier, she ran her hands over the taut muscles of Nat’s thighs, coming to rest her fingertips at the small of her back. Nat leant closer, breasts brushing over Maria’s own, their tongues seeking out one another. Maria discovered a spot in Nat’s mouth that had her gasping, and honed in on it, laving it with attention.
Nat broke off the kiss suddenly, breathing heavily, resting her forehead against Maria’s for a moment. When Maria opened her eyes, she saw Nat’s green irises drowned out by her pupils.
“I didn't think you were interested,” Maria whispered. “And if I wasn't looking at you, it was because I was scared you’d think that you were only welcome here because I am interested.” She punctuated the last three words with tiny kisses, just the barest brush of her lips over the corner of Nat’s mouth.
Nat laughed, a rich sound that Maria felt in her stomach. “You know, I’ve never seen you so oblivious, Commander.”
"Gee, thanks Agent,” Maria said, hands wandering down to rest on Nat’s butt. Jesus christ, was she really allowed to do that now?
“That’s not…” Nat sounded flustered. That was a new one. Maria started to knead the muscle beneath her hands, firm beneath Nat’s jeans. "I just meant... I thought you were just ignoring the flirting, putting me down gently."
"What flirting?" Maria asked, quirking an eyebrow. Nat leaned back in indignation, and Maria moved her hands to hold onto Nat’s hips.
"What-? I pinned you to the floor! I've been wearing your clothes!"
"You're on the run, Nat, I thought you'd lost all your possessions or something.” As the words left her lips, Maria realised how ridiculous they sounded.
“Maria, if you'd been paying attention, you'd have realised I stopped running the day I knocked on your door."
Maria smiled at the sentiment, and at the sound of her first name, capturing Nat’s mouth once more. Kissing seemed a far safer way to get Nat to use it than near-death experiences. Though really, how far apart were the two?
***
That night, as they lay in bed together, surrounded by ruffled sheets, skin glistening, when Nat had acquired a whole repertoire of ways to use Maria’s name, there was a buzz from Maria’s phone.
Blissed-out from a most wicked demonstration of Nat’s mouth, still panting, Maria reached for it, squinting at the harsh light of the screen.
It was a text from Coulson.
I wouldn’t stress about it, Hill. She’s there, isn’t she?
Maria put her phone back down, and looked over at Nat. Nat, who was naked and arching in her bed, mouth kiss-swollen and content, rising into a wry smile when she met Maria’s gaze.
Yes, she is.