The glass panes in the boardroom doors nearly shatter when Fury comes storming out of the meeting, Maria hot on his heels. The project is not going over well with The Powers That Be. The project is never going over well with The Powers That Be, no matter the project, but Maria knows that throwing a hissy fit isn't going to make them change their minds.
"Sir, I just want a few words before I talk to the crew about--sir--"
"Not now, Agent Hill." He's sweeping off like a fucking swan up the stairs to the main comm, and then he'll be utterly unreachable. Maria hates when he does this. She puts her hands on her hips.
"Sir, it'll just take a minute."
"I said not now." His hand is on the door.
"With respect, sir, why do you always lose control like this when you come out of these meetings? It's difficult for those of us who have a job to do." She punches that word, job, just as hard as she'd like to punch him but doesn't, lord, why does everybody but her decide it's fine to be a drama queen and leave her to clean up the mess...?
Nick Fury has turned around. He is facing her, and he has That Face.
Not many things make Maria Hill worry, but That Face makes her worry.
She looks at her feet, self-consciously running her fingers over the new scar at her hairline. "Sir, I only meant..."
"I know what you meant, Agent Hill." That eye is fixed on her, now, and she thinks, suddenly, that if he and Odin had a one-eyed Mean Buggers Only staring contest, her money would be on her boss. "And I'm sure it was carefully considered. I'm sure you chose every. single. word," he says, and now he's coming back down the stairs, punctuating his vitriol with the clang of boots on metal. "I'm sure, Agent Hill, that you never lose control. Because you don't let your emotions get the better of you. And I do not lose control. When I'm in that boardroom, fighting for the continued survival of this division, I do not lose control. When I'm on the battlefield, or defending my station against invaders from Asgard, I do not lose control."
He's right up in her face now. She can smell his cologne, something woodsy and posh. Or maybe that's just him.
"You will know when I lose control, Agent Hill." And he moves.
There's a second, just a heartbeat, when the sudden proximity makes her reach for her gun, and she comes up with the barrel pointed at thin air where Fury's head used to be, because his mouth is on her mouth and he is, lord have mercy, he's kissing her, and actually it's surprisingly soft and sweet and with just a teasing amount of tongue, and then it's over.
She wobbles forward, dazed, as he steps back.
"It looks something like that," he says, and he goes up the stairs.
She stands there for a moment with her gun out.
"Sir?" she calls up the stairs. "Was that sarcasm?"
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"Sir, I just want a few words before I talk to the crew about--sir--"
"Not now, Agent Hill." He's sweeping off like a fucking swan up the stairs to the main comm, and then he'll be utterly unreachable. Maria hates when he does this. She puts her hands on her hips.
"Sir, it'll just take a minute."
"I said not now." His hand is on the door.
"With respect, sir, why do you always lose control like this when you come out of these meetings? It's difficult for those of us who have a job to do." She punches that word, job, just as hard as she'd like to punch him but doesn't, lord, why does everybody but her decide it's fine to be a drama queen and leave her to clean up the mess...?
Nick Fury has turned around. He is facing her, and he has That Face.
Not many things make Maria Hill worry, but That Face makes her worry.
She looks at her feet, self-consciously running her fingers over the new scar at her hairline. "Sir, I only meant..."
"I know what you meant, Agent Hill." That eye is fixed on her, now, and she thinks, suddenly, that if he and Odin had a one-eyed Mean Buggers Only staring contest, her money would be on her boss. "And I'm sure it was carefully considered. I'm sure you chose every. single. word," he says, and now he's coming back down the stairs, punctuating his vitriol with the clang of boots on metal. "I'm sure, Agent Hill, that you never lose control. Because you don't let your emotions get the better of you. And I do not lose control. When I'm in that boardroom, fighting for the continued survival of this division, I do not lose control. When I'm on the battlefield, or defending my station against invaders from Asgard, I do not lose control."
He's right up in her face now. She can smell his cologne, something woodsy and posh. Or maybe that's just him.
"You will know when I lose control, Agent Hill." And he moves.
There's a second, just a heartbeat, when the sudden proximity makes her reach for her gun, and she comes up with the barrel pointed at thin air where Fury's head used to be, because his mouth is on her mouth and he is, lord have mercy, he's kissing her, and actually it's surprisingly soft and sweet and with just a teasing amount of tongue, and then it's over.
She wobbles forward, dazed, as he steps back.
"It looks something like that," he says, and he goes up the stairs.
She stands there for a moment with her gun out.
"Sir?" she calls up the stairs. "Was that sarcasm?"
The door shuts.