Fic: Say You Like Me, Just For The Night
Feb. 21st, 2017 05:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sunspotTitle: Say You Like Me, Just For The Night
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Relationship(s)/Character(s): Maria Hill/Sam Wilson
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 2100
Content Notes: none
Summary: Maria needs back up and everyone is out of town, except Sam. He wishes he knew what he's just agreed to, but Maria says details are need-to-know only. He'll just have to suit up and find out.
Author's Notes: For Chocolate Box 2017.
"Wilson," Maria says as soon as he picks up the phone.
"Hill."
"I need back up tonight."
He shifts the groceries he's carrying so he can get a better hold on the phone. "Need me in the air?"
"Need you in a suit, actually. Do you own a suit?"
Sam frowns. "What, like a look-nice suit?"
"Mmm," she says, obviously distracted. He can hear her typing aggressively (the only way he's ever seen her type).
"Yeah, of course I have a suit. Can I ask what --"
"Need to know only," Maria says. "Sorry."
Sam knows from past experience that she's zero percent sorry, ever, and no matter how much he needles, she'll give him nothing. "Right, right, of course."
"Meet me at the Archives Metro at a quarter to six."
"With bells on."
She disconnects without another word and Sam's left to wonder what spy world shenanigans he's about to find himself in.
Maria straightens his tie, which he knows was straight already. He can think of maybe one other time he's seen her fidgety; she must be nervous. "Couldn't get anyone else for this gig? Not that I'm complaining. I know I look great in a suit."
"No one else was available. Now, for the cover story… I work for the Bureau of Labor Statistics, and you're IT for the office. Your name is Jonathan McAllister and we met when my office was getting a network upgrade. Just keep it vague, no one here is going to question the work details too much. I trust you to improvise some colour, the chatty small talk bits. Keep it casual, don't promise anything, make plans, or say anything I'll have a tough time refuting later." She's started walking while she talks, up the block in her customary long strides. Sam keeps pace easily, tracking all the information she's giving him.
"It almost sounds like we're dating in this story. What's your name in all this?" Sam's torn between amused and a touch nervous. Even imaginary-dating Maria was… daunting.
"Just Maria," she says, glancing over her shoulder. "It's not deep cover."
"What is it then?"
She hesitates for a second or two. "My grandfather's eighty-fifth birthday dinner."
It startles a laugh from him. "Really? Come on, you could have told me instead of telling me it was 'need to know.'"
She stops and faces him, a frown tugging her mouth down. "At the time, you didn't need to know. You would have said no."
"I wouldn't have, and you think tricking me into a date is a great way to start this fake relationship?"
Sam learns then that Maria is exactly the same height as him when she's wearing heels, and she's twice as scary out of uniform. She stares at him for a moment and he hates that his pulse is racing, but she's really intimidating. Then Maria breathes out a sigh and a tiny smile quirks at one corner of her mouth, and Sam thinks his pulse is racing for an entirely different reason.
"I'm sorry I wasn't up front. I just really, really can't sit through another dinner with Aunt Carol grilling me about why I'm still single at thirty-six." She sort of shrugs at him, like that explains everything, but Sam's got aunts too, so it kind of does.
"And you're sure Steve's busy? He seems like the perfect guy you should bring to this kind of thing. No one would be giving you any flak for keeping him hushed up until now. Or Natasha. They might want to question that, but they wouldn't dare out loud."
"They're on a mission in Córdoba," she says with a shrug. "Besides, my cousin Gino lost his job when his company went out of business after the Battle of New York, so the Hills aren't the biggest fans of the Avengers. You really don't have to --"
"Sam Wilson to the rescue then," Sam says, cutting her off and poking her in the shoulder. "I'm charming as hell. Aunt Carol will be eating out of my hand by dessert."
Maria sighs, far more dramatically than the situation calls for, Sam thinks. "I should have told them I was out of town. Or dead. This is going to be… Painful, at best, isn't it?"
"You're buying my supper, right?" he asks with a mock-innocent smile.
She groans.
There are… so many Hills in the restaurant. So, so many. He hasn't even seen them yet, but he can hear them. Sam is feeling drastically outnumbered already and the suit is not instilling the same confidence it was before.
The hostess points them to the back, a whole room set aside for the party. When they enter, Sam trailing a few feet behind Maria, they catch a few disbelieving looks. He fears the worst for only a second (he's heard it all before, but any is enough to last a lifetime) before a small child wearing what Sam can only describe as 'dressy overalls' marches up to him and says, "I guess Auntie Maria didn't make you up after all. See, Mom?"
"Okay, everyone, we'll do this once. This is my partner, Jon-"
"Sam Wilson, hi, nice to meet everyone, finally."
Maria's elbow digs painfully into his ribs for a split second until he turns towards her and mimes like he wants to take her coat. She shrugs out of it with only a hint of a glare before they take their seats, but there's a smile to go along with it.
Dinner is great, and the conversation is lively, and yeah, Aunt Carol is a bit of a pill. But Sam turns his charm up to eleven and flashes a few million-watt smiles and by the time they dim the lights to sing Happy Birthday to Grandpa Roger, he feels he's won over most of the room.
He's got one arm across the back of Maria's chair, angling himself towards her so their knees brush together whenever one of them shifts in their seat. It feels casual and easy, and fairly intimate. When Sam realizes how often they're touching, his stomach does a flip flop unlike anything he's experienced while flying.
Sam receives more hugs from the Hill family on his way out than he would have believed possible. He gives Grandpa Roger another firm handshake and feels someone at his shoulder. He turns, to hug whatever other aunt or cousin or one of Maria's six sisters (Six! He thought he had it rough growing up with two) has lined up next, but it's Maria, slipping an arm around his waist.
He's pushing his luck, he knows, but he kisses the side of her head. If she questions him about it, he'll say he was selling the part or it was a leftover reflex from last time he was seeing someone. But instead of demanding answers or socking him in the gut, she turns her head and kisses him back. It's just a soft press of her mouth to the corner of his, but by god, his heart stops dead in his chest.
And she must be able to tell, too. "Be cool," she whispers.
"Good night everyone," she calls over her shoulder, leading him out of the restaurant. Sam lets himself be led, trying to get through the fog of excitement in his mind to determine if he actually has the courage to find out if Maria had any ulterior motive for bringing him here tonight.
"Did I do okay?" he asks when they're out in the night air and halfway up the block. Far enough away from any of her family to have to keep up the act. She's still mostly leaning into him though. He thinks maybe that means he did well.
"Yes, I think it was fine. My cousin Matilda is having a baby sometime next month, so there'll be a christening sooner or later. Think I could enlist you for that, too?" She finally pulls out from under his arm around her shoulders and takes a step away.
"Yeah, of course, if you still need me. Just let me know when." Sam casts several sidelong glances at her as they walk back to the metro station.
"This worked out pretty well. I wish you hadn't gone so far off script," Maria says, still not really looking at him as they approach the metro station.
"Look at me, no way I'm a Jonathan. No one would have bought it." Besides, if he ever works up the nerve to actually ask her out...
She snorts and Sam has to shut his eyes for a few seconds because a woman snorting in his general direction because she thinks he's being an ass should not be so adorable. No one snorting, ever, should be adorable. But he's hard pressed to describe it with any other adjective. "If you say so," she says.
They're standing in front of the metro station now, and he digs his hands into his pockets, trying to come up with a way to stall that isn't obvious, but nothing comes to him. It wasn't a real date, so he's just being stupid for hoping.
But Sam should know by now that Maria is nothing if not predictable in her ability to surprise him. She curls her hands into the lapels of his jacket and kisses him again, borderline last scene in a romantic comedy style. He lets one hand slip around to the small of her back while his other hand grips the railing behind him in case he needs the extra support (not because his knees go weak for a split second when he gets a whiff of her shampoo, or because he can taste the after-dinner mint on her lips, but in case enemies are attacking and this is her attempt to throw them off, or she slipped and landed on his mouth first during the first wave of an earthquake or something).
"Good night, Sam," she says when she pulls away. Sam thinks he sees stars for a second, but it's the street lamps past her head swimming back into focus.
"Uhh," he manages. "Good night?" But she's already just a retreating figure on the sidewalk. In spite of the tens of new questions clamouring for satisfaction in his head, he grins.
Sam's got his keys in the door, mind still reeling a little from the kiss, no doubt dopey-looking smile still firmly stuck in place, when he notices lights on inside. He never leaves lights on.
He cracks open the door ever so slightly, phone in hand to send for help if he needs it, and hears raised voices from somewhere past the kitchen.
"I swear, Rogers, if you burn one more pot of soup, I'm going to -- ah, look! Look at what you're doing! How are you so bad at this?"
"Nat, calm down, I won't get better with you shouting at me."
Sam rolls his eyes and rounds the corner. "I gave you the key for emergencies."
Steve is on the couch with Bucky, who's sprawled out under the blanket from the guest room with a bowl of popcorn balanced on his chest. Natasha is on the floor in front of them and she barely glances away from the tv before answering. "It was an emergency. My couch is uncomfortable and Steve never has snack food."
"And I don't have an apartment," says Bucky.
"Yeah, Bucky's a fugitive. It's not like we could all go catch a movie."
"Low profile." Bucky nods solemnly.
"Sorry, Sam," Steve says, at least trying to sound sorry.
"If if makes you feel any better, we're not having any fun because Steve is so terrible at this game." Natasha rises up on her knees a little while she speaks, holding the Playstation controller closer to her chest and mashing the buttons a little harder, like that would compensate for Steve being terrible.
They go back to politely ignoring him. He snaps a photo and sends it to Maria.
(20h51): Guess they're back from the mission early?
Her response comes after he's changed out of his suit and headed back downstairs to make more popcorn.
Maria Hill (21h02): I asked you because you were best suited for the task and because I was curious if I could see myself dating you. And because aunt Carol was actually driving me crazy about being single.
Maria Hill (21h02): For the record, you did well.
Sam laughs. He can practically hear it, the gruff respect, maybe a little begrudging. He'd be insulted if he wasn't so charmed.
(21h03): The official record will reflect that?
Maria Hill (21h04): Yes, officially. Well dressed, charming small talk, pulled out the chair for me, excellent kisser. 8.5/10. Maybe 8.75/10. Repeat performance next weekend without my entire extended family?
(21h04): It's a date.
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Relationship(s)/Character(s): Maria Hill/Sam Wilson
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 2100
Content Notes: none
Summary: Maria needs back up and everyone is out of town, except Sam. He wishes he knew what he's just agreed to, but Maria says details are need-to-know only. He'll just have to suit up and find out.
Author's Notes: For Chocolate Box 2017.
"Wilson," Maria says as soon as he picks up the phone.
"Hill."
"I need back up tonight."
He shifts the groceries he's carrying so he can get a better hold on the phone. "Need me in the air?"
"Need you in a suit, actually. Do you own a suit?"
Sam frowns. "What, like a look-nice suit?"
"Mmm," she says, obviously distracted. He can hear her typing aggressively (the only way he's ever seen her type).
"Yeah, of course I have a suit. Can I ask what --"
"Need to know only," Maria says. "Sorry."
Sam knows from past experience that she's zero percent sorry, ever, and no matter how much he needles, she'll give him nothing. "Right, right, of course."
"Meet me at the Archives Metro at a quarter to six."
"With bells on."
She disconnects without another word and Sam's left to wonder what spy world shenanigans he's about to find himself in.
Maria straightens his tie, which he knows was straight already. He can think of maybe one other time he's seen her fidgety; she must be nervous. "Couldn't get anyone else for this gig? Not that I'm complaining. I know I look great in a suit."
"No one else was available. Now, for the cover story… I work for the Bureau of Labor Statistics, and you're IT for the office. Your name is Jonathan McAllister and we met when my office was getting a network upgrade. Just keep it vague, no one here is going to question the work details too much. I trust you to improvise some colour, the chatty small talk bits. Keep it casual, don't promise anything, make plans, or say anything I'll have a tough time refuting later." She's started walking while she talks, up the block in her customary long strides. Sam keeps pace easily, tracking all the information she's giving him.
"It almost sounds like we're dating in this story. What's your name in all this?" Sam's torn between amused and a touch nervous. Even imaginary-dating Maria was… daunting.
"Just Maria," she says, glancing over her shoulder. "It's not deep cover."
"What is it then?"
She hesitates for a second or two. "My grandfather's eighty-fifth birthday dinner."
It startles a laugh from him. "Really? Come on, you could have told me instead of telling me it was 'need to know.'"
She stops and faces him, a frown tugging her mouth down. "At the time, you didn't need to know. You would have said no."
"I wouldn't have, and you think tricking me into a date is a great way to start this fake relationship?"
Sam learns then that Maria is exactly the same height as him when she's wearing heels, and she's twice as scary out of uniform. She stares at him for a moment and he hates that his pulse is racing, but she's really intimidating. Then Maria breathes out a sigh and a tiny smile quirks at one corner of her mouth, and Sam thinks his pulse is racing for an entirely different reason.
"I'm sorry I wasn't up front. I just really, really can't sit through another dinner with Aunt Carol grilling me about why I'm still single at thirty-six." She sort of shrugs at him, like that explains everything, but Sam's got aunts too, so it kind of does.
"And you're sure Steve's busy? He seems like the perfect guy you should bring to this kind of thing. No one would be giving you any flak for keeping him hushed up until now. Or Natasha. They might want to question that, but they wouldn't dare out loud."
"They're on a mission in Córdoba," she says with a shrug. "Besides, my cousin Gino lost his job when his company went out of business after the Battle of New York, so the Hills aren't the biggest fans of the Avengers. You really don't have to --"
"Sam Wilson to the rescue then," Sam says, cutting her off and poking her in the shoulder. "I'm charming as hell. Aunt Carol will be eating out of my hand by dessert."
Maria sighs, far more dramatically than the situation calls for, Sam thinks. "I should have told them I was out of town. Or dead. This is going to be… Painful, at best, isn't it?"
"You're buying my supper, right?" he asks with a mock-innocent smile.
She groans.
There are… so many Hills in the restaurant. So, so many. He hasn't even seen them yet, but he can hear them. Sam is feeling drastically outnumbered already and the suit is not instilling the same confidence it was before.
The hostess points them to the back, a whole room set aside for the party. When they enter, Sam trailing a few feet behind Maria, they catch a few disbelieving looks. He fears the worst for only a second (he's heard it all before, but any is enough to last a lifetime) before a small child wearing what Sam can only describe as 'dressy overalls' marches up to him and says, "I guess Auntie Maria didn't make you up after all. See, Mom?"
"Okay, everyone, we'll do this once. This is my partner, Jon-"
"Sam Wilson, hi, nice to meet everyone, finally."
Maria's elbow digs painfully into his ribs for a split second until he turns towards her and mimes like he wants to take her coat. She shrugs out of it with only a hint of a glare before they take their seats, but there's a smile to go along with it.
Dinner is great, and the conversation is lively, and yeah, Aunt Carol is a bit of a pill. But Sam turns his charm up to eleven and flashes a few million-watt smiles and by the time they dim the lights to sing Happy Birthday to Grandpa Roger, he feels he's won over most of the room.
He's got one arm across the back of Maria's chair, angling himself towards her so their knees brush together whenever one of them shifts in their seat. It feels casual and easy, and fairly intimate. When Sam realizes how often they're touching, his stomach does a flip flop unlike anything he's experienced while flying.
Sam receives more hugs from the Hill family on his way out than he would have believed possible. He gives Grandpa Roger another firm handshake and feels someone at his shoulder. He turns, to hug whatever other aunt or cousin or one of Maria's six sisters (Six! He thought he had it rough growing up with two) has lined up next, but it's Maria, slipping an arm around his waist.
He's pushing his luck, he knows, but he kisses the side of her head. If she questions him about it, he'll say he was selling the part or it was a leftover reflex from last time he was seeing someone. But instead of demanding answers or socking him in the gut, she turns her head and kisses him back. It's just a soft press of her mouth to the corner of his, but by god, his heart stops dead in his chest.
And she must be able to tell, too. "Be cool," she whispers.
"Good night everyone," she calls over her shoulder, leading him out of the restaurant. Sam lets himself be led, trying to get through the fog of excitement in his mind to determine if he actually has the courage to find out if Maria had any ulterior motive for bringing him here tonight.
"Did I do okay?" he asks when they're out in the night air and halfway up the block. Far enough away from any of her family to have to keep up the act. She's still mostly leaning into him though. He thinks maybe that means he did well.
"Yes, I think it was fine. My cousin Matilda is having a baby sometime next month, so there'll be a christening sooner or later. Think I could enlist you for that, too?" She finally pulls out from under his arm around her shoulders and takes a step away.
"Yeah, of course, if you still need me. Just let me know when." Sam casts several sidelong glances at her as they walk back to the metro station.
"This worked out pretty well. I wish you hadn't gone so far off script," Maria says, still not really looking at him as they approach the metro station.
"Look at me, no way I'm a Jonathan. No one would have bought it." Besides, if he ever works up the nerve to actually ask her out...
She snorts and Sam has to shut his eyes for a few seconds because a woman snorting in his general direction because she thinks he's being an ass should not be so adorable. No one snorting, ever, should be adorable. But he's hard pressed to describe it with any other adjective. "If you say so," she says.
They're standing in front of the metro station now, and he digs his hands into his pockets, trying to come up with a way to stall that isn't obvious, but nothing comes to him. It wasn't a real date, so he's just being stupid for hoping.
But Sam should know by now that Maria is nothing if not predictable in her ability to surprise him. She curls her hands into the lapels of his jacket and kisses him again, borderline last scene in a romantic comedy style. He lets one hand slip around to the small of her back while his other hand grips the railing behind him in case he needs the extra support (not because his knees go weak for a split second when he gets a whiff of her shampoo, or because he can taste the after-dinner mint on her lips, but in case enemies are attacking and this is her attempt to throw them off, or she slipped and landed on his mouth first during the first wave of an earthquake or something).
"Good night, Sam," she says when she pulls away. Sam thinks he sees stars for a second, but it's the street lamps past her head swimming back into focus.
"Uhh," he manages. "Good night?" But she's already just a retreating figure on the sidewalk. In spite of the tens of new questions clamouring for satisfaction in his head, he grins.
Sam's got his keys in the door, mind still reeling a little from the kiss, no doubt dopey-looking smile still firmly stuck in place, when he notices lights on inside. He never leaves lights on.
He cracks open the door ever so slightly, phone in hand to send for help if he needs it, and hears raised voices from somewhere past the kitchen.
"I swear, Rogers, if you burn one more pot of soup, I'm going to -- ah, look! Look at what you're doing! How are you so bad at this?"
"Nat, calm down, I won't get better with you shouting at me."
Sam rolls his eyes and rounds the corner. "I gave you the key for emergencies."
Steve is on the couch with Bucky, who's sprawled out under the blanket from the guest room with a bowl of popcorn balanced on his chest. Natasha is on the floor in front of them and she barely glances away from the tv before answering. "It was an emergency. My couch is uncomfortable and Steve never has snack food."
"And I don't have an apartment," says Bucky.
"Yeah, Bucky's a fugitive. It's not like we could all go catch a movie."
"Low profile." Bucky nods solemnly.
"Sorry, Sam," Steve says, at least trying to sound sorry.
"If if makes you feel any better, we're not having any fun because Steve is so terrible at this game." Natasha rises up on her knees a little while she speaks, holding the Playstation controller closer to her chest and mashing the buttons a little harder, like that would compensate for Steve being terrible.
They go back to politely ignoring him. He snaps a photo and sends it to Maria.
(20h51): Guess they're back from the mission early?
Her response comes after he's changed out of his suit and headed back downstairs to make more popcorn.
Maria Hill (21h02): I asked you because you were best suited for the task and because I was curious if I could see myself dating you. And because aunt Carol was actually driving me crazy about being single.
Maria Hill (21h02): For the record, you did well.
Sam laughs. He can practically hear it, the gruff respect, maybe a little begrudging. He'd be insulted if he wasn't so charmed.
(21h03): The official record will reflect that?
Maria Hill (21h04): Yes, officially. Well dressed, charming small talk, pulled out the chair for me, excellent kisser. 8.5/10. Maybe 8.75/10. Repeat performance next weekend without my entire extended family?
(21h04): It's a date.
