What Is and Isn't Mine
Tie a Yellow Ribbon Series - Part 1

It's Tony that actually brings it to her attention. She does not have time for tabloids on a good day and generally has no interest in them. She doesn't have time for the latest celebrity gossip when she knows Africa's falling apart and the Middle East isn't all that far behind. Plus there are issues in the Koreas, China, of course, and Russia's incursions into neighbouring countries are more than a little disconcerting.

She does not care that George Clooney is married.

But Stark, Maria knows, pays attention to these things. He has competitions with himself and whines to Pepper at length when they go more than six weeks without making a splash. And maybe that's why he'd thrown the party in the first place. It certainly explains why Pepper had all but begged her to be there. With everything that Pepper's done for her, being another familiar and friendly face in a sea of people is the least Maria can do.

Except, as it turns out, the article has nothing to do with the gala.

"You know, I would have taken you for a rock climber, maybe a parasailer, definitely a woman who would not mind repelling down a building just for fun, but a market? That's a little low key for you, isn't it?"

Maria blinks for a moment. He's caught her off-guard – not impossible these days because it turns out privatizing security does not mean the end of long, tedious meetings where she has to explain objectives, budgets and manpower – and it takes her a moment to collect herself.

"What are you talking about, Stark? And why are you in my office? I gave specific instructions to Henry not to let you past him."

"I snuck by while he was in the bathroom," Stark says without apology and taps the magazine he's spread open on her desk.

And there, in full, glossy colour, is a picture of her, arm and arm with Steve in his Brooklyn market. Their Brooklyn market. Maria settles her fingers on the page, traces them with remarkable gentleness over her face, then his. They look relaxed, she thinks. Arm and arm, laughing at something – from the look on his face, he's probably said something a bit witty and probably very, very smart – and even she has to admit they look… cozy.

"Something you want to share, Miss Hill?"

"Lieutenant," she corrects absently, because she's not really ready to answer his question.

She isn't sure how it feels, to be honest. On one hand, she hates it. It's an invasion of privacy during a normal, everyday outing in New York. It's her moment, her time, and yes, she chooses to spend it with Steve, but that market has nothing to do with Stark Industries and she absolutely abhors being in the news for any other reason. On another hand, it's terrifying. She's staring at herself, at Steve, and seeing what she thinks other people must see, why she gets knowing looks when he calls and she drops everything to pick it up; why, when Pepper gave her the gala tickets, she'd hinted that maybe Maria should bring Steve; why Natasha asks after the good captain when she calls and emails.

It shouldn't be there. They shouldn't be there, like they are, looking carefree and together in ways that she doesn't deserve. Not considering her past. Captain America is everything good and wholesome. He is a good man, and considering the filleting she'd gone through during the Congress hearings, Maria knows she is not a good woman. She has too many dark corners and Steve would ask for all of them, she knows. And she also knows now, with a terrifying clarity, that she'd give it.

But there's a thrill too, because she is an intelligence agent and she can read the emotion on his face. Whatever she's going through, the emotions, the butterflies, the pounding heart, from the look on his face, he is too. There's warmth there, and more. Something much more heated and deep and Maria's breath catches.

"Do I need to ask after your intentions with Captain America?"

"We're friends," she answers without really meaning to. Part of her rears in irritation because she does not answer to Tony Stark, thank you very much. Part of her is too busy trying to figure out what to do. They name her, because her face had been everywhere and still is, considering her rank in Stark Industries and as she reads the article she discovers it's at least flattering, but something still grinds inside her.

"We didn't ask for this."

Stark, who had been mid-ramble, stops dead. "What?"

She doesn't get to repeat herself though. A breath later, her office door is swinging open and Steve is standing there, more than a little wild-eyed. She feels the agent take over, the side of her so good at being calm in the face of others' panic. And Steve, she can tell, is panicking.

"Did you see it?" And then he looks down at her desk, sees the shining pages and his shoulders droop. "You did."

"It's everywhere," Stark says gleefully. "You made the front page of The Enquirer."

"George Clooney got married and they can't find anything better to publish?" Maria finds herself saying in exasperation. "It's a trip to the market!"

"With Captain America."

The growl is real, vicious and more than a little threatening. Stark's half way out the door before she orders him out. He has the courtesy to close it behind him at least and leaves Steve and Maria alone.

"I hate this."

His words are so, so soft. Maria looks at him, pauses in going around her desk to face him. "Hate what?"

"Your life, my life, our life," he says passionately, anger and frustration shining in every word, in the sharp look of his eyes. "That's not for them to speculate on or talk about."

She bites down on her tongue, has to before she turns and tells him that this is different, that it's the way the world works. It's a piece of this modern world he has been very vocal about hating.

"It should be about the things you do, the people you save, not the fact that we were trying to enjoy a Saturday in New York."

She's not sure what makes her reach for him – friends she reminds herself firmly, even as she cups his face in her palms. She refuses to find it intimate, even as his eyes flare. She resolutely ignores it. She doesn't care if he looks like he's half way there, she needs to be the stronger person. She needs to help him find better, because better is not her. But she knows touch is a comfort and she can give him that.

"I don't need accolades," she says firmly. "I don't need praise from a bunch of people I don't know and will never know. So they can speculate all they want. I know what's real and what matters and that's enough for me."

He surprises her when he hangs his head. "It's because you were with me."

She puts pressure on his cheeks, his chin and is completely surprised by the fear and trepidation she sees there. "Steve?"

His hands come to her hips, gripping desperately. "I didn't want this. I never wanted this. I just don't like bullies."

"I know," she tries to break in, to reassure him, but his grip tightens and she has to bite down on a yelp of surprise.

"I didn't ask for the way they follow my every move, the way I can't even go to a market with-" He cuts himself off and Maria bites down on asking what he'd wanted to say.

"This isn't my world."

She isn't sure why that hurts, why disappointment floods her chest. "It is now," she says firmly, because she's realized he responds to strength better than compassion.

He surprises her by stepping forward, stepping into her. She looks up and tries not to show the nerves jangling in her blood. She doesn't know what's happening and she hates the way it feels significant. "Steve?"

"Don't run."

"What?"

He glances away as his fingers flex on her hips. "Whatever- Whatever's been happening, with us, please tell me you won't run."

The words vibrate in her skin, spread heat through her veins. And it takes more courage than she's ever shown to meet his eyes and everything in them. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

The relief that floods his eyes makes the fear entirely worth it, changes in the ice she's been trying to use to keep him out. He could break her, shatter her and despite knowing this she knows in that moment, she's fallen anyway.

Part II up December 1st.

Thanks for reading, and to those of you who messaged me about the original formatting issues, thanks for that too!