#mariasharon

20. Teacher AU + 66. It's not you, it's my enemies

Sharon knows it's not the food that put a sour grimace on Maria's face, because they're at Maria's favorite nook of a bar in their quiet neighbourhood. And well on the second round of drinks.

"I know my neverending poetics about medieval queens can become boring, but you could at least not look at me like you want to murder me."

As a history teacher Sharon tends to spill her passions to whoever liked to listen. Kids mostly do, depending on the topic. Adults not so much.

Maria likes to, sometimes. Most times, especially when Sharon reveals little bits that were fitting the insanity of the Game Of Thrones, but actually did happen.

"It's not you, it's my enemies." Maria narrows her eyes and stabs an olive in her drink with a toothpick.

"Enemies?" Sharon's brow arches.

"Yes. Those stinky, pimpled calamari."

"Calam- Are you talking about Hydra cheerleading team?!"

Sharon knows Maria is very protective of her team of little sugar addicts with glittering pompoms, but this is a new extreme in the land of schools tournament.

"They entered the competition after a suspicious stomach flu decimated Brooklyn Howlers." Maria takes a sip of her drink, shooting Sharon a pointed look over the rim of her glass.

Sharon almost rolls her eyes.

"One, they're kids. Two, I doubt high school cheerleaders are equipped with a flu virus to release it upon their rivals."

Maria's face shows zero sign of embarrassment. She's as dead serious as she was with Director Fury negotiating a raise.

"They're kids who will face MY kids which makes them my enemies."

Corners of Sharon's mouth twitch in amusement.

@tcnystcnks was kind enough to write a prompt from me for maria/sharon, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it! 

Maria Hill and Sharon Carter enter SHIELD at about the same time, although they go into different departments. Agent Thirteen enters the field agent side of business, and Agent Hill enters into administrative. 

You’d be surprised at how much they overlap. 

blonde curls slip out of a loose ponytail, and blue eyes shine like sapphires in the low, dim light.

she can tell that the woman’s about to say something, strains to hear, but the words never come out - instead, gunfire explodes into the night.

maria wakes up with a start, almost falling out of her bed as the image of blood appearing on the blonde’s white dress stays seared into her retinas, the afterimage of her body falling etched forever into her mind.

she runs a hand through her hair, shoving the blankets off of her and heading to the kitchen, not even checking to see if the woman she stumbled home with last night is still there. the stranger had been a good distraction, but that was all - simply a way to relieve the stress of her long shift at the bar.

maria takes a swig from the bottle of whiskey sitting next to her fridge, then pops a bagel in the toaster and leans against the counter, unplugging her phone from the wall and scrolling through her notifications.

but the normalcy of it all doesn’t do anything to clear the sight of the dying blonde from her mind, and no matter how hard she tries, she can’t stop thinking about her.

she thinks that she loved that woman, once.

maybe in another life.

yes, that sounded right. another world, where she wasn’t like this, wasn’t a soldier-turned-bartender with a drinking habit and bloody knuckles from removing a more rowdy customer from natasha’s bar.

with a sigh, she shoves her phone into her back pocket and grabs the still-warm bagel, taking a bite as she heads back to her room. grabbing the first shirt she sees, she slips it on and then heads out, only stopping to grab her jacket and boots.

it’s back to work, now - she’s still making it up to natasha for missing a few shifts last month when she skipped town.

-

sharon’s never been the type to stay in one place for long. she likes traveling, likes seeing new places, likes the change and the thrill of it.

maybe she’s running, too, running from the dreams she’s been having for years now, watching a stranger she loves with all of her heart die, bullets tearing holes in her sharp black suit.

nothing can stop the dreams, though, not the moves and the drinks and that guitar she keeps playing louder and louder, chords ringing in her ears for hours after the song is done.

but that doesn’t stop her from trying.

sharon’s known natasha for a long, long time, since their first slightly drunken hookup in a closet (the irony of that is not lost on her) at her older cousin’s birthay party. so when natasha mentions that she’s been looking for someone to play live music a few times a week, well, sharon doesn’t hesitate before volunteering.

she slowly makes her way to new york for the job, spending a few days in pittsburgh before hitting the road again.

she walks into natasha’s place at five, the evening crowd slowly starting to appear, and sits at the bar, leaving her guitar in the back of her car. she glances around the place, a slow, bright smile spreading across her face. natasha’s done well.

she thinks she’s gonna like it here.

-

maria sees sharon before sharon sees her.

her eyes widen, and she takes a step back, almost hitting the wall.

it’s her. fucking hell, it’s her.

the woman from her dreams.

-

sharon turns back to the bar, eyes locking onto the pretty bartender.

her breath hitches, surprise followed by confusion followed by joy.

there’s something familiar about this already, about her.

she’s glad this version isn’t drenched in blood.

-

“i feel like i’ve known you for all my life.”

Title: Office Romance

Square Filled: N1 (Maria Hill/Sharon Carter)

Ship: Maria Hill/Sharon Carter

Summary: After Sharon gets promoted to Level 7 and assumes her role as Agent 13, she has the opportunity to work on more covert missions with Assistant Director Hill. Maria has many walls in place, but every one of them crumbles when she realizes she’ll do just about anything to make Sharon smile and keep her safe.  

in and out, a few shots fired, but nothing too dangerous or time-consuming.

of course, nothing could go simply with sharon and maria, they weren't that lucky. maria especially wasn't - they were in paris, so she had thought she would propose once they were finished, had brought the ring along with her and everything.

then, she got shot.

the bullet hit maria in the back of her left shoulder, and she stumbled forward, the ring tumbling from her pocket and rolling towards sharon on the ground as she barely caught herself.

sharon cursed, pulling maria towards her and around a corner to safety as she fired back at their attackers, blonde hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. “you alright, babe?”

”had worse,” maria replied, biting back a hiss of pain and reloading her gun. she joined sharon in the fight, staying close to the wall to avoid getting hit again. after a few minutes, the gunfire died down, and sharon turned to maria, concern lacing her features.

she started to speak, but then a glint of metal caught her eye, and she looked down at the small, silver ring, the sapphires and diamonds shining beautifully in the light.

“...hill, what the hell is that?”

maria followed her gaze, freezing up when she saw the ring, before offering sharon a sheepish smile. ”sorry, carter...i know you always wanted a romantic proposal, i figured i could to take you to the eiffel tower.”

sharon stared at her, too surprised to form words, before diving for cover again when another shot rang out. “you’re a trainwreck, you know that?” she finally called out, back pressed to the wall. “but yes! yes, if we get out of here alive, of course i’ll marry you. god, i love you.”

”i love you, too, carter. now let’s get out of here.”

they ran, and the ring stayed there, abandoned, slowly becoming buried in the dust - something that maria would have fun explaining to natasha later on, that the hours they had spent choosing the ring were all for nothing.

hours later, sharon raced over to a 50 cent machine in the airport, ignoring maria’s confusion as she knelt down beside the machine and paid it until she’d successfully gotten two plastic rings (with a bonus bouncy ball for her trouble). she stood, and turned back to her girlfriend, rolling up the sleeves of her stolen hoodie to pass maria the rings.

with a wicked smile, sharon said, “will you, maria hill, do me the honor of reproposing to me?”

maria looked at her for a long moment, and then cracked, laughing and accepting the plastic trinkets, before kneeling in front of her. “happily. will you make me the happiest woman alive and marry me, even though i managed to lose the ring and get shot the last time we tried this out?”

peggy was smart and cunning and strong and brave and beautiful, everything sharon had ever wanted to be, and being around her was like meeting your heroes and having them live up to every fantasy and expectation and then some.

and it was amazing, knowing that a member of your family, someone who had trained you, was the kind of person little girls did reports on, and dressed up as for halloween.

but it also wasn’t.

the name carter was like a bright sign on sharon’s face, like the weight of the world on her shoulders, screaming that ‘hey, this one is related to the founder. this one is the perfect spy, this one has to be the perfect spy. she will be amazing and she will be the best. she has to be.’

god, there were days when sharon hated it, hated her aunt peggy for being so damn perfect.

like when one of her shots was a millimeter off, and she could see the disappointment and confusion in her instructor’s eyes.

like when someone scored higher than her on a leadership evaluation, and she could tell everyone was thinking that something had to be wrong, that that couldn’t be right.

like when someone got close to her, and she noticed how disappointed they were that the carter greatness wasn’t constantly radiating from her.

and like when sharon came back from a mission in barcelona, with her partner dead and blood staining her hands and three bullets lodged in her left arm.

every goddamn time she made a mistake, or just wasn’t the best, she could feel the weight of that stupid fucking name on her, impacting every choice she made and every step she took.

and sharon carter was sick of trying to live up to a ghost.

so she stopped.

she dropped the name carter, became sharon smith, became agent thirteen, the white blur on the battlefield taking out enemy agents like they were nothing, studying and training and working until she was one of the best.

(and if she wasn’t sure whether she was trying to live up to her aunt peggy’s legacy or escape it, she refused to think about it.)

sharon smith was better than sharon carter, she decided.

sharon smith had friends, she got along easily with the other agents, and she was tough and strong and capable and more confident than sharon carter had ever been.

(and if there was a part of her that really, really fucking missed sharon carter and how she was always loud and funny and in love with burgers, it took her a long, long time to acknowledge it.)

she was damn good at becoming another person, it seemed, because sharon carter didn’t come back until she met maria hill.

maria who was cold and fiery and near the top of the chain of command, full of ambition and strength and integrity.

maria who took no bullshit and saw through her in a matter of seconds, refusing to give up until she got to know the real sharon, sharon carter.

maria who looked unfairly good in her black suits and who made sharon feel things she didn’t quite know how to describe.

maria who helped her learn that it was okay to not be perfect, that anyone who said otherwise could go fuck themselves.

maria who gave her a chance to save herself.

soon enough, sharon gave up on the last name smith, settling back into her old name and her old self again.

it felt like coming home.

and when she was called ‘agent carter’ again and yet for the first time, she didn’t feel the familiar pressure, the weight and the exhaustion and the anxiety.

she felt strong. she felt whole.

maybe she wasn’t the original, but she was agent carter, smart and strong in her own right, comfortable in her own name, not defined by people’s expectations for her or someone else’s legacy.

it was a good feeling now, carrying on the name, living proof that women stood on the shoulders of the ones who came before them, and were stronger because of it.

at the end of the day, sharon carter loved her aunt peggy.

She was fourteen and Laura Sanders was talking about how cute Josh Theodore was. How his eyelashes were super long, how well his shirt fit, and how excited she was to be in sophomore year of high school, because her mom said she could date in sophomore year. 

“What about you, Ria?” Laura asks. “What guy do you like?” 

And then Maria thought about all the celebrities that she thought were interesting and said that she liked Tom Cruise even though secretly, Drew Barrymore looked a million times better. 

She doesn’t really think about it when she comes home. She doesn’t think when her mom starts talking about how soon Maria will have a husband and “then you’ll understand everything.” She doesn’t really register that her thought process goes “no husband. No guy. Nothing.” 

She realizes she’s gay when she’s in her school library, an all-around terrible place to realize this, actually, because she panicked and knocked over a book and the librarian shushed her but one cannot exactly shush anxiety over being a lesbian, now can they? 

Maria Hill is Gay. She is gay in freshman year of high school and it is a Big Deal. 

But she never talks about it. Ever. She can’t, not when her dad rolls his eyes at parades and people being who they are and talks about why can’t people just stay in the closet about this shit and–

She breathes. In and out. It’s fine, it’s always going to be fine, three more years–

Maria doesn’t even think about it. She pushes it to the back of her mind, says that Michael Carmant is cute, and wears a dress to homecoming and pretends like everything is Fine. 

Everything is Fine for approximately the entire rest of the school year up until July 4th. 

She goes to a party where there are loud fireworks, people she doesn’t know, and a girl. 

The girl’s name is Jean, she wears too-big glasses, and she hangs out by the appetizers. Just like Maria. 

Maria and Jean. 

Jean and Maria. 

They become friends. 

And Maria develops her first crush. 

The bad thing about getting on a crush on someone that you know doesn’t like you back is the fact that they don’t really know. Ever. Because they can’t know because they will look at you and say “I’m flattered/I’m honored/That’s sweet, but…” and then you are stuck looking like a fucking idiot. 

So Jean only finds out when she tearfully tells Maria that she’s moving in a week to Australia for her mom’s job, and Maria blurts out “I think I have a crush on you” and stays in her basement for the remainder of the week and cries for at least two days straight. 

Her mom finds her dehydrated, says that she knows “that it’s hard to lose your best girlfriend, honey,” and Maria ends up crying a lot more. 

She comes out to the first person ever when she’s in a battlefield, there’s a knife that’s in her leg, and all she can think of is the fact that 

“Holy shit I am way too fucking gay for this,” Maria says with a groan. 

“Jesus Christ, you’re gay?” Agent Todd asks. “You’re telling me now, when you have a knife in a leg, and just now? Oh my god, Hill, get your shit together.” 

And she laughs, and it’s fine and Everything For Once, is fine. No capital Fine. Because it’s not pretend. 

And maybe her team looks out for her, asks her how the ladies are. They try to get her dates, which always fail horribly. 

“My cousin’s friend’s cousin is a lesbian, maybe….?” 

“We don’t all know each other, Gina. Not all gays know each other.” 

(Okay so it turns out they did know each other because Maria’s been going out of her way to drink coffee at a local place because it “tastes” better but really the barista, Margie–the cousin’s friend’s cousin–is really cute and kind of badass because she has a full sleeve of tattoos and a really funny sense of humor.) 

When she becomes Deputy Director Hill, there are a couple of insinuations. A lot of men don’t like a woman usurping a position that they think they should have. Frankly, Maria doesn’t give a damn. She has more pressing things to worry about, like whether or not her avocados are ripe or if Clint Barton is actually going to go get his paperwork done on time or if she’s revoking donut privileges. 

But people spread rumors, and they say her knees are sore from being in Fury’s office. She rolls her eyes, but people still think it happens. 

The comment happens from the dumbass Alpha team. Rumlow heads it, he’s a sack of shit, and Maria does something stupid. 

“How’s Fury treating you?” He asks. “I bet it’s real good, ain’t it Hill?” Now. Maria doesn’t get easily riled up, except if you come between her and Jeopardy! but Alex Trebek isn’t being interrupted. 

“Hmm? You can’t answer?” Rumlow asks again. “You gotta answer for it sometime, Hill. Can’t hide away and moan all the time.” 

“Seeing as how I’d rather fuck your girlfriend than Fury any day, I don’t see how the fuck you have this logic,” Maria snaps. “God Rumlow, I knew you were of utter shit intelligence, but really? Me with Fury? Good god, I thought you would be a better agent and realize that my interests have never swung that way. But hey, maybe I’ll tell Fury to give you another observation course. I mean, the rookies could help you identify how to tell someone is interested in a person, right?” 

(Clint maintains that it’s the fucking funniest thing he’s ever seen. Ever. 

Sharon loved sunflowers, always had them in the late summer and early fall. Maria noticed this when they first were together. Well, kind of together. Maria was house-sitting, and it developed into a tentative friendship and now it’s–it’s something more than that. 

She notices the paintings Sharon has on the walls, the small little decorations. Post-it notes to remind her to go grocery shopping, don’t get this or that, and events for the week. 

And as Maria wakes up with every intention of leaving silently, sunlight streaming through quietly, Sharon’s hair lights up a brilliant gold as she rises from her position in bed. 

“Please stay,” she says quietly. “Please.” And Maria is in the doorway and Sharon looks so tired of having people leave in her life, being alone–

So she crawls back into bed, and puts arms around Sharon.