Chapter Text
El stood under the shower, letting hot water run over her face as she adjusted to the morning light. It had been a great night, but she was paying for it profusely, a dull headache drumming at her temples. Drinking with Thor Odinson was a mighty challenge, and keeping up had proved futile.
The sound of Friday’s voice over the intercom made her wince, and the announcement that there was a last minute mission meeting seemed to almost mock her fragile state.
“Okay, let Stark know I’ll be there in five minutes.” She breathed, switching off the water and reaching for her towel.
When El finally made it down to the briefing room everyone was already there. They sat around the long table with Tony at the end, and Steve stood in front of the projector screen wearing his Captain America outfit and his very best disappointed expression. El was in her stealth suit, a head towel wrapped around her wet hair to keep it from her face.
“Nice of you to finally join us, Agent Reeves.” Steve muttered, his jaw tight as he watched her hurriedly take a seat next to Natasha and glance over the other woman’s notes. She huffed nonchalantly at his comment and rolled her eyes.
“Thought you’d probably prefer I was wearing clothes.” El retorted, pulling an escaping strand of wet hair between her fingers pointedly.
He sighed under his breath, running a hand over his face and refocusing on his presentation. He couldn’t stand her. She was always defiant, turning up late, hungover or under slept with something sarcastic to say. He couldn’t stand the way she walked, or spoke, or dressed. He’d heard her speaking to Nat about it once.
“He hates that I don’t fall for his stupid doe-eyed good boy act, he’s such a 1940s cookie cutter misogynist, Nat. I wish he’d stop taking it out on me.”
That had only pissed him off more. She thought he didn’t like her because of misogyny? He loved Nat and Wanda and the other female agents on the team because they worked as a team, listened to orders when they had to and didn’t feel the need to snap his head off. Gender had never even crossed his mind when he made assessments on agent performance and he was hurt that she felt it did.
Still, Stark had made a point of encouraging him to work with El. When this particular mission had come up Tony had practically kicked his feet with excitement, suggesting it was the perfect opportunity to make their tension ‘water under the bridge’. Steve had been reluctant, to say the least.
“So, this private club is very difficult to access for the regular patron, but there’s actually a pretty easy way in. The honeymoon suite,” Steve explained, gesturing to the large hotel room on the blueprints on the screen in front of him, “Newlyweds are granted entry to the club as part of the honey moon package, giving us direct access to our target.”
Tony hummed in amusement, tilting his head towards El as she scribbled mission notes into her pad. Her tongue stuck out slightly between her lips as she wrote down the name of the hotel on the screen, and she remained completely oblivious to his watching eyes.
“So who’s gonna be the lucky couple?” Bucky mused, his eyes falling on Nat. The two of them had successfully posed as a couple on more than one occasion, and he presumed them to be the natural choice. Free hotel stay, easy target, a night of dancing with Black Widow, it was all sounding rather nice.
Steve cleared his throat awkwardly, “Well, uh, I’ll be there as mission Lead, and Reeves will be accompanying me.”
There was a moment of suffocated silence as El stopped writing. It dissipated as Bucky slapped his hand to chest, scoffing, “Wow, sure you’ll make a convincing happy couple.”
El kicked him under the table, warning him with a glare, “Shut it Barnes. At least it’s not with Thor, I might actually want to make use of the bed.”
Thor chuckled heartily, offering her a playful wink which she returned with fervent enthusiasm.
“Focus, Avengers.” Stark spoke up sharply, his usual sarcasm dulled by his desire to teach Captain America a lesson, “You’re all more than capable of going under cover. I expect the utmost professionalism.”
El looked over at her mentor with narrowed eyes. He held her gaze, daring her to talk back. When Tony didn’t back down El resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
Fine. She tilted her head, plastering on the sweetest smile she could muster and once again picking up her pen. Bucky pretended to gag across the table and El’s shoe discreetly connected with his shin once again. Tony cleared his throat in warning and El suppressed another non-verbal complaint, looking up at Steve calmly.
“Sounds great. Thanks for the opportunity.”
His lips were pursed into a thin line when he nodded back at her. She was always excited for missions, but being alone in a fake marriage with Rogers was going to test her patience.
A week later El was sitting on top of her suitcase outside the compound, scrolling on her phone absentmindedly. She was dressed comfortably, wearing the sweats she usually wore to bed so she was comfortable for the upcoming flight.
“Reeves?” Steve pulled her from her daydreams, coming out of the double doors with his own case rolling behind him, still looking smart-freaking-casual in his freshly pressed dress pants.
“My husband.” She replied, a teasing grin on her face as she tucked her phone into her back pocket, standing up in front of him. He grimaced slightly at the pet name and she sighed inwardly, her standard reaction, patting his chest in an almost (completely) condescending way.
“You’re gonna have to look a little happier than that if we’re pulling off the newly wed look.” She reminded him, a bitter edge to her tone.
His eyes lit up as he remembered something, and he smugly leaned down to unzip the top of his bag and pull a headband out of the top. A simple white Alice band with a tacky plastic veil hot glued to the front.
“A gift from Bucky for the new bride.” He boasted, reaching over and pushing the band over El’s head. She blushed as the veil fell over her face, looking up at him through the cheap lace. His hands lingered as he leaned back to look at his handiwork. A small smile spread across his face at the shock on her own, and he reminded himself of Tony’s warning to be polite and repair their relationship. Poking fun at her was effortless, but not exactly conducive towards the b-mission. By the end of the weekend, he wanted to be able to work with the agent across from him without one of them blowing up at the other. Tony’s attempts to make amends was a big deal, and most definitely stemming from their last major argument.
“That is it, Captain!” El shouted, slamming her case file down on his desk and jabbing him in the chest, “Get off your high horse and accept that my plan was better.”
“Lower your voice Agent.” Steve hissed, squaring his shoulders as he towered over her, “you directly disrespected orders.”
“Because Steve fucking fugitive Rogers always follows the rules. The asset was right there-“
“And we lost it. Because, yet again, as always, you let us down.” Steve interrupted, leaning down so they were face to face and she could see the fury simmering just below the surface. She could smell the strong, earthy fragrance of his aftershave and feel his warm breathe across her nose and see the way his chest rose and fell under the strain of anger. It was overwhelming, Steve flooding into everything and crowding her space. Before she had really considered the consequences the agent was reaching back to slap her palm across his face, but his reflexes were quicker and his fingers wrapped around her wrist an inch from his tightly clenched jaw. Her mouth dropped open in half a gasp as she realised she was really about to slap Captain America. He was tense as he scanned her face, watching the anger melt away as shock settled in. He’d really riled her up, it seemed.
“Physical violence, Agent, really?”
El jumped at Tony’s voice from the door to the office, and she shrugged out of the Captain’s grip as though it was burning hot as they both turned to the man in the doorway.
“I-I need to get some air.” She choked, and when Steve looked back at her face there were tears collecting in her eyes. She stormed out, shoving past Tony and out into the stairwell. The two Avengers stared at each other, shock furrowing Steve’s brow.
“What the Hell did you say to her, Rogers?”
A Shield car with tinted windows pulled up to the curb and the two agents looked away from each other, collecting their own bags and heading towards the car. The driver helped El lift her suitcase into the boot, and she tried to contain her judgment when Steve insisted on hauling his own. They both settled into the back seats. El gently pulled the headband off and placed her headphones in her lap, but instead of turning them on to ignore him as she often did on quinjet journeys, she turned towards him with a loaded sigh.
“Right, quiz me, let’s get these shiny new identities perfect.” she suggested, straightening her back so even her posture was Captain America approved. Steve raised an eyebrow at her, resisting the urge to make a comment. She was trying, really trying. He sat back in his seat with a curt nod, “Right, Mrs Baker, where were we married?”
“Brooklyn Winery. One fifty guests, beautiful open brick decor.” She responded, quick, proud of herself. Little did Steve know, Tony had given El free range to plan the fake wedding, and she’d enjoyed every moment of playing make believe and deep diving on Pinterest. Her and Wanda had even gone down to the wedding shop so they could get some snaps of her in a dress that would seal the deal if anyone questioned their cover.
“Date of the wedding?” Steve continued, reaching between them to pull the case file into his lap and open it up.
“Last Wednesday! 12th July!” El quipped, enjoying how easily she knew each answer, but she was met with no praise. Steve said nothing, his eyes wide as he gently flicked through the file. El tried to grab it to see what he was looking at and he snatched it from her grasp, tutting.
“Did you know about these?” He questioned, holding the file away from her but turning it so she could see the photoshopped wedding photos she and Nat had been giggling over after Tony sent them her way. Now, looking at them, with Steve in one of his fitted suits and her in the beautiful dress she’d fallen in love with at the boutique, her gut filled with a weird sort of shame. Saying nothing, she held up her phone and showed him the lock screen. On it was one of them laughing together, though it was actually manipulated from a photo of Steve at one of many press nights they’d make appearances at.
“Seemed pretty obvious that we’d have wedding photos. Useful if anyone asks. Were they not sent to you?”
Steve shook his head, silently cursing Tony Stark for what he had no doubt was a deliberate oversight designed to tease him. He felt his face grow hot as he flicked through them.
“Did you… did you actually get a dress?” He stammered, his finger dragging over an image of El looking up at him. They were phenomenally edited. She looked happy to be next to him, for once.
El shrugged, “Just put it on at the shop. Posed for some photos. Not how I thought I’d get to try on wedding dresses but hey, might be my only chance.”
He narrowed his eyes, looking up at her and studying her expression as she looked at the passing scenery beyond the window. She seemed unbothered.
“What does that mean, your only chance?”
El turned to look at him, trying to gauge his tone. He seemed almost irritated. Of course. Never a dull moment with Rogers. They weren’t even going to make it to the airport without arguing.
“Well, I just don’t know if I’ll get married. Assassins turned Avengers don’t generally have a high marriage rate. Ask Nat. Or Bucky. Anyway, I’m hardly relationship material. Prone to let downs, I’m told.”
He was silent for a moment, tucking the photos away and mulling over her words with a pang of guilt. He deliberated over what to say for a moment too long, and her shoulders heaved in a defeated sigh. He forced the words out before she could tune him out.
“Listen, sometimes people say things they don’t mean.”
“Do they?” She teased, her voice testing.
He took a tentative glance at her face. She avoided looking his way, eyebrows knitted together as she recalled the most recent shouting match.
“They do.” he breathed, berating himself for his lack of restraint back in the office. Silence settled between them for a long moment, and he watched her with bated breath as she folded and unfolded her hands in her lap.
“How did you propose?” She mused suddenly, her fingers delicately reaching up to tuck hair behind her ear as she continued to watch the passing scenery.
He opened his mouth to respond, nothing
coherent coming forth, confusion making him stutter again. A smirk lit up her face, her shoulders slouching as she relaxed back into her seat.
“Come on Rogers, I’m quizzing you. Hopefully you’ve done your homework.”
—
Once they were at the airport, rings were slipped on fingers and El was leaning into Steve’s side. They were aware of the slim chance that people on their flight would be staying at the same resort, so the characters were switched on and El and Steve were left at the taxi rank. They were now Mr and Mrs Baker, Meredith and Jack. Their passports told of their true identities but for the sake of public image, they became a doting couple, fresh from the aisle. This, obviously, immediately spiralled into a competition to make the other break.
The first comment was only playful, a heavy lilt in El’s voice as she called him ‘her hubby’ to the guy at the shop where she’d stopped to buy a book to read on the plane.
His eyes had betrayed him for the shortest moment before he’d leaned down to press a chaste kiss to her forehead, trying his best to look enamoured by her. Then she’d found herself stifling a laugh at how tense his ass became under her hand when she it reached round to slip into his back pocket, walking in tandem with him effortlessly as they wandered further into the airport.
Then he’d pulled her into a clothes shop in duty free and quite loudly groaned at the sight of a lingerie bodysuit, grabbing it from the rail and pressing it under her chin and insisting she wore it that night, earning some judging stares from nearby shoppers that made El’s heart race in her chest. She flicked the tag around and eyed the price before glaring up at him, “Fifty six dollars, you gonna treat me Daddy?”
Steve, with all his 1940s sensibilities, choked on air, his eyes all but bulging out of his head. Satisfied, El pulled him from the shop. He shoved her shoulder and then reached out to grab her arm before she could actually fall, and when she looked up he was laughing. She found herself really smiling in response, and it took her a moment to process that. Were they really enjoying each other’s company? The thought sort of made her sick.
“I think I won that.” she pushed, deciding to stick with pissing him off and pushing his buttons.
“I messed up by bringing sex into it. I really have no idea where to start with things like kink. Do you really call guys that?”
El scoffed, “No. I mean, I have, but that’s guys right?”
Steve opened and closed his mouth, only resorting to shaking his head when he had no response. El’s elbow rose to jab him in the side, “don’t go silent on me Cap. I mean that some guys like control, or the illusion of it anyway. None of them had any actual power.”
Steve shot her a disbelieving look. El paused in her stride, disbelieving laughter rising in her throat.
“You disagree? You think they did? You think I can be controlled?”
El crossed her arms, rooting herself to the spot.
When he turned back to look at her his expression was playful, “Oh, no, you are impossible to control. I learned that the hard way. Overpowering you, not a problem, but I suppose I’m an exception.”
The lighthearted moment suffocated and died.
He stretched his arms out in front of her, flexing the tight string of muscles across his biceps. El gritted her teeth, resisting the urge to put him on his ass right there on the cool tiles of the airport floor. Pride shone from his smug face as he raised his eyebrows at her pissed off expression.
“You’re so full of yourself. Strength isn’t everything, you know.” El spoke, her tone measured.
Steve’s eyes rolled in his head.
“Taking down a brat who doesn’t listen to orders wouldn’t take much strength.” he countered, his voice acidic.
She turned to walk away from him and he caught her wrist, putting the very strength she was dismissing to use when she failed to escape his grip.
“Fuck off.” she spat.
“It was a joke.” He tried, “would you calm down?”
Those four specific words had her seeing red and she pushed at his chest with her spare hand.
“You. Are. Such. A. TWAT!”
A familiar exasperated expression fell over Steve’s face and he began to drag her by the wrist towards the departure gate. People were looking, murmuring in hushed voices, and the embarrassment was making El’s brain scramble as she fought for an escape.
“Can we please get back to being newlyweds?” Steve hissed, his other hand grabbing the top of her arm and accidentally nearly throwing her to the floor when she resisted, “You can try overpowering me or whatever you want to do when there aren’t people around. But for five seconds, would you not read in to everything I say?”
El struggled in his grip again, her eyebrows knotting when he reacted by making his hold tighter. It almost hurt. America’s golden boy was such an asshole.
“Alright, yeah, fine.” She snapped, her other hand trying to pry him off. He leaned down and tapped his ear, gesturing for her to speak up, “Sorry, what was that? I couldn’t quite hear you.”
A wave of shame shocked her to silence as her cheeks burned red. Neither of them moved. She found her defiance deflate under his expectant glare.
She swallowed thickly, “I said okay.”
He wasn’t done.
“I tried with you, you know that? Talked to you at your welcome party, booked you in for one to one training you canceled. I made an effort but you decided from day one you didn’t want to like me. The only time you respond is when I’m shouting or asserting that I’m above you. So here we are Darling. You’re going to do as I say.”
“Okay, Steve.” She whispered, her eyes begging, “Just let go of me, people are looking. You’ll break our cover.”
He sighed, less than impressed, but dropped her hand, walking off and leaving her stood there. No one frustrated him like she did, but there was something delightful in her submission, her red cheeks, how immediately responsive she was to just a little bit of restraint. As soon as he got out of her sight he stopped, pressing his palms into his eyelids, trying to calm down. This was not very ‘Captain America’ of him, and he’d expected them both to do better.
Back in the terminal waiting area, El was collecting herself. She ran her hand over her wrist, shaking her head to try and snap out of it and failing spectacularly. Her phone buzzed and she pulled it into her hand, a welcome distraction. Her stomach dropped at Tony’s name on the screen.
Ripped each other to shreds yet Trouble?
El gritted her teeth, tapping out a short and smug reply.
No. Best of friends now. Steve might actually want to marry me by the end of this.
Fuck this. Fuck Tony. Especially fuck Steve. But El wasn’t going to prove them right. She could do this. If Steve wanted obedience she could play the part. And the sooner they got this done the sooner she could tell him what a bastard he was and go back to seeing his face as little as possible.
When she rounded the corner she ignored that Steve was standing with his hands pressed into his face and sang his fake name to get his attention.
“Come on Baby, we’ll miss our flight.”
He looked up, his eyes wide, and didn’t miss the slight apprehension behind her doting expression.
He gingerly took her hand and she willed herself not to tense under his touch.
“Come on then.” He breathed, watching her very carefully as though she might jump him.
Their hands came to rest between them and Steve guided the way, bottling his confusion and focusing on the mission ahead of them. Behind him El steadied her mind, made herself an ocean of calm, and thought very leisurely about the many easy ways she could murder Captain America from the comfort of her HoneyMoon suite.