Shadow

4.Pick Your Battles

Maeve rolled her eyes, arms crossed as she stood and waited patiently for Fury to emerge from the room he was in. 
"Agent Alinsky" he greeted, looking slightly delicate and fragile. 
It was a rare sight to see Fury so vulnerable and downright hurt. He never really went into the field often enough to have injuries like he now had. 
"Fury. Seems like you've seen better days" Maeve commented, looking around the dreary, abandoned building the group had hauled themselves up in. 

Fury just looked at her, disdain clear on his face even beneath the eyepatch. She took great joy in poking at his weakness, especially since she had known Hydra were in Shields ranks somewhere. It's not like she neglected to tell him, just he hadn't asked. To her, it was rather obvious anyways. They couldn't go almost 80 years without someone slipping in and working their way into the enemy organisation. 
"Really, you must be desperate to come to me for help" she prodded again, smiling in satisfaction as he looked at her with a killing look. 
"I didn't ask you here to play games" he deadpanned, sitting on a chair and sighing under his breath. 

Maeve just shrugged, crossing her arms to fight off the chill sweeping through the room. Over the years, Fury hadn't changed. He still had that cold, dominant demeanour that Maeve rarely felt intimidated by. She knew he was a threat, a terrifying man. It was just that she had met worse. He still had no hair on his head and an eyepatch fixed to his face. Only a select few knew what had happened to warrant that accessory and she wasn't one of them.
"I know, I'm here to play hero and save lives" she said, waving dismissively. 
In actuality, Maeve rarely gave a shit about anyone. As long as she could protect her prospects, and a few lucky individuals, then she didn't care what happened to anyone else.

"Call it what you want agent, but you're needed. Doesn't it feel good to put your life to some use again?" Fury asked, his dark eyes flickering up to watch as she paced around the room, fingers tracing the rotting walls. 
How the place hadn't collapsed in on itself, she didn't know. The stones looked worn, curled with moss and grime. 
"Not really," she responded without hesitation, "but if Hydra are in Shield, they'd come after me soon enough. More hassle really than doing this" 
Fury nodded absentmindedly. So far, they worked out that Pierce was meeting with some committee representatives and that Natasha would sneak in, under the disguise as one of the women. Meanwhile herself, Sam, Steve and Maria were going to go into the control room and stop the launch.

Within a few minutes, Maeve couldn't stand the silent judgement and walked out the room. She could talk to Fury later about officially leaving Shield and never being apart of that life again. It wasn't like Hydra hadn't tried to find her. A few times, they had gotten close to her. Some shield agents, during the first few years off the grid, had tried to find her. Though they didn't have much luck. Most agents from both organisations were easy to trick. After this, Maeve planned on leaving and ever returning. 
The only thing, rather begrudgingly she'd admit this, was that she wanted to stay for a certain red head. Part of her hoped Natasha would apologise, even though she wasn't sure she could forgive the assassin anyways. 

They were beyond close, so many years ago. Both could depend on each other to have the others back during missions, protect each other. That clearly went downhill. 
Speak of the damn devil, Natasha herself walked out. She was dressed in a navy pencil skirt and matching blazer. A pristine white button up was fastened beneath. Although it was rather old fashioned, she pulled the outfit off. The pencil skirt hugged her curves, making Maeve cursed at how good she looked in it. And how much she was enjoying seeing her legs extenuated by the heels. 

Old feelings fluttered and curled in her stomach as Natasha gave her a slight smile, breaking Maeve from her reverie. Fuck, it wasn't fair. 
"You sure you want to do this?" Natasha asked, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow at the other woman. 
Maeve bit the inside of her cheek, the pain stopping her from either stabbing or kissing the black widow. She couldn't stand the sight of Natasha because of what had happened between them. More importantly, she hated still liking the woman and admiring the stupid, small things about her. Like how her red hair fell over her shoulders, how her green eyes glistened in the dim light, how her pale skin brought out the flush in her cheeks and the red of her lips. 
"Yes, why do you think I can't?" Maeve replied, slight sarcasm underlying her tone.

Natasha eyed her, seeing subtle changes from the years they've been apart. For one, Maeve was a lot brisker and cold. Although she always got the job done, there was no hesitation yesterday when she had slit that mans throat, leaving him to bleed out in the alleyway. She'd always been...well, borderline sadistic and unfeeling. But, Natasha supposed, she'd never had that treatment directed at her. 
Physical wise, Maeve seemed near enough the same. She had let her hair grow out, and her skin looked a little more tanned. 
"Of course I know you can do it" she responded, fixing her blazer. 

"Good to know you haven't lost all faith in me" Maeve said, rubbing the chill from her arms. 
Natasha frowned slightly at the comment. 
"I think we need to talk after this" Natasha commented, changing the subject. 
Maeve looked over, eying her suspiciously.
"Do we? Or are you going to stab me in the back again?" she retorted with a sneer. 
"Maeve, come on-" she began, trying to diffuse the situation before anything else was said. 
Maeve rolled her blue eyes again, smiling condescendingly at the other woman. 
"No, you're the one who did it. Just own the mistake, alright? You exposed my cover and almost got me killed," she hissed with an angry tone, "I would've died if I was a normal person" 

They were on a mission and for some unknown reason, Natasha exposed her alias, location, everything. Maeve, having no idea, was taken by surprise. She was shot through the side and beaten bloody, without absolutely no help from her partner. The one who was suppose to have her back. If Maeve hadn't used her cyrokenesis to freeze over the wound, rather painfully as she recalled, she surely would've bled out. 
"You don't understand" Natasha pleaded. 
The plea fell on deaf ears as Maeve only ignored it.
"Just...leave me alone" she said before leaving the room to get some fresh air outside.

How was she meant to listen to Natasha, an assassin infamous for lying and manipulating people, about a situation that almost killed her? No matter the excuse, it still stung deeply. Seemingly, the redhead didn't understand that.