Maria Hill ~ Acting Director (shield_2ic) wrote in newalliance, @ 2014-01-01 21:06:00 |
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Entry tags: | maria hill, nick fury |
Who: Nick Fury and Maria Hill
NPC: Dum Dum Dugan
When: January 20, 2007 (waay backdate)
Where: Dulles International Airport, Washington, DC.
What: Start of an era: Fury’s looking for a few good men. (Hill counts.)
Rating: High for language, PTSD issues.
For a lot of the Marines, this was just a stopover on their way home, one more airport in a long string of airplanes and flights that began almost a day ago in Kosovo and hopped its way back from the Middle East towards the United States. But for some of them, this was home, and their families were here to welcome them back from a long nine months in Iraq.
Major Maria Hill walked right passed it all, trying not to shoulder her way through the embracing families, wing someone with the heavy seabag on her shoulder, or get between a Marine who spotted his wife and kids. She didn’t have the time or energy to deal with it today. She could still feel the grit of sand on her skin, even after the makeshift washes in various airport bathrooms, but as much as she wanted to spend about an hour under hot water, she didn’t have the time or patience for that, either.
She needed to get her affairs in order, pull her Jeep from the storage garage, make sure her apartment hadn’t been ransacked in her absence, then get to Quantico and start getting the company in order, because the work didn’t stop just because most of them came back from overseas.
Surprisingly cold air slapped her face, and Maria was reminded that it was January and she’d just come from one of the upper circles of hell, where at least it had been warm. She involuntarily closed her eyes, a short shudder going through her skin, then stepped forward and looked for a cab. Nothing looked right, and everything rubbed at her, hinted at all kinds of interesting dangers, from cars that explode to IEDs to just someone with a knife and a grudge.
After three tours and twelve years in the Corps, she was almost used to it. She just didn’t know if it was going to get better this time.
She was thirty years old, and felt she’d seen twice that.
And if she wanted to keep living, she needed to move on. Maria let out a breath, edged her bag higher onto her shoulder, and looked for a cab that didn’t make her skin crawl.