Ineffable!

More than a journey, coming home at the end of the day is a process.

For Maria Hill, it’s mostly a matter of leaving her professional, hyper-competent persona behind and release her inner slob. She peels her rectitude in successive layer, starting with her strict hair bun and ending with her impeccably straight posture, until only the quality of her clothes really sets her apart from Jessica.

(And even then, only by virtue of price-tags and ascribed values.)

By then, she’s usually replaced any concern about Stark Industries well out of her mind and, once she’s made sure Jessica came home mostly in one bit—they’ve both learned to ignore the occasional bruised face or scrapped set of knuckles long before the S.H.I.E.L.D fell—she takes her uniform off, slips into ratty sweatpants and a threadbare college sweater before she sinks into the couch next to Jessica and prepares to enjoy a good game of Jeopardy.

Jessica, sock-clad feet propped up on the coffee table—and if any of Maria’s current or former colleague saw her, they’re probably think Maria on the verge of a heart attack—throws an arm around Maria’s shoulder, kisses her cheek and asks:

“How’s my superhuman girlfriend?”

“Busted,” Maria replies, smiling when their boxer, Loop, comes to beg for evening scratches, “I blame the Doombots. You?”

“Just done getting over today’s bullshit,” Jessica says with a vague gesture to the bottle of wine next to her, “Want some?”

Maria shakes her head with a yawn, and groans in unison with Jessica when Loop decides scratches aren’t enough and he wants in on the hugging—she ends up with one side of her face squished against Jessica’s breasts and the other tingly with Loop’s hot, panting breath while someone earns a lot of unexpected money by being smart on their TV screen.

Maria half-claps in appreciation, which her bowels take as a sign to let out the most unearthly gurgle of contentment—like her organs, too, are releasing the stress of the day.

“Nice one,” Jessica says with amusement. “They ever do that at work?”

“I think they’re to scared of Pepper’s reaction for that.”

“Smart guts.”

Maria snorts, the last pieces of Agent Hill leaving her shoulders for the night as she readjusts her pose for comfort—though sandwiched as she is, she doesn’t have that much hope of really settling into it just yet.

“What’s for dinner?”

“I cooked your favorite today,” Jessica says with a smirk like she’s a three-stars chef and about to unroll roasted swan neck or something equally exotic, “Omelette and cheese.”

“Great!” Maria approves with a chuckle, “Did you leave bits of shell in it again or do I get special treatment this time?”

Jessica pinches the pouchy part of her belly in retaliation for that, and Maria can’t help but laugh at their own ridiculousness—after more than five years, sometimes they still manage to behave like they’re college students.

Not that Maria minds, though. Being Agent Hill has its professional rewards, but as far as her personal life is concerned, she’ll still pick the easy-going, no-taboos setting any day.

Agent Hill, after all, would probably start at least two hyperventilation crisis, were she ever to fart where people can hear. Maria, on the other hand, gets to see Jessica act overly disgusted before she scrunches her nose, lets an ever louder one out, and they both end laughing their heads off at the offended look on Loop’s face at their shenanigans.