Alli Snow (allisnow) wrote,
Alli Snow

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Hello 20K mark!

*does a happy dance*

I have to take a break, though, because I need to buy food and also because I started giving myself Too Many Feels.

However, to celebrate, here's a snippet from my Steve and Maria scene. (Oh, there are WBP spoilers here, so... you've been warned.)

They’ve met a couple of times in the past month, of course, but never… unofficially. Maria can’t imagine Rogers engaging in any kind of subterfuge, unless Stark has rubbed off on him even more than the Director fears, because with his looks and his inability to blend in and his general way of being he would probably make the worst spy ever. On the other hand, she doesn’t think he’s asked her here so she can write a proper Yelp review on this establishment’s shoddy customer service.

“Puente Antiguo,” says Rogers, his expression darkening. “Last night. What happened?”

Maria takes a swig of beer. Of course. Should’ve known. “It wasn’t done on purpose, if that’s what you think. The guy at the controls got a little overanxious, that’s all. Didn’t realize the thing would blow up like that.”

Rogers taps his own bottle against the bar top; surprisingly, it gives a hollow sound. “Barton could have been killed,” he says softly.

Another drink. A longer pull this time as she tries not to cringe. Barton and Romanoff. What would Coulson say if he could see them now? It’s not worth thinking about, and it’s not her fault, even if this sick, squirming sensation beneath her ribs feels uncomfortably like guilt. “I guess that’s one of the risks he takes, playing with the big boys.”

Rogers stares at her. “I don’t believe you’re really that callous.”

Maria sighs. Callous would be better, she thinks. Callous would be easier than caring too much.

“I thought you’d take this more seriously.” Another shot across the bow.

She drums her fingernails against the side of the bottle. “If the Director says there’s a threat, then there’s a threat,” she says. “But I don’t believe it’s coming from the Council. They’re powerful people and they wouldn’t risk that power, that influence, for someone like Sloane Fisher. Whoever she dealt with was lying to her.”

“Someone helped Fisher and Manesh escape,” Rogers reminds her. “What about some kind of… intermediary? Someone who’s trying to move up in the organization, who does think it’s worth the risk.”

Shrugging, trying not to show how much that very real possibility bothers her, Maria shrugs. “Like I said, I’m trusting the Director on this one. But I don’t have any reason to think last night was anything more than trigger-happy incompetence. The world’s full of stupid people, Captain. We end up with our fair share.” She takes another drink, hesitates, and then decides… what the hell. “How are they? Barton and Romanoff. Besides last night, I mean.”

Rogers’ brow furrows as he appears to contemplate his answer. “’How are they?’” He echoes. “Separately or together?”

“Together? As in… together?”

He winces. “I probably shouldn’t have said anything.”

Worst. Spy. Ever.
Tags: nanowrimo

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