“Ah appreciate that greatly, Ma’am.” Anna nodded, her hand falling back to her side as she followed Maria towards the line. She had to remind herself not to be nervous. That she had spoken with the Director of SHIELD before without incident and that she had made it through many similar and probably more tense meetings in her time working for the school without incident, no matter how many times she would question whether she was truly the best person to be handling this task or that one. 

          There is silence between them for a bit as they sit back down, Anna focusing on the cup between her hands for a moment as she slowly opens the lid, careful not to splash any of the dark, hot liquid onto her gloves. (She’d learned the hard way a long time ago just how hard they could be to keep clean sometimes). It buys her a couple seconds, anyway. To consider just how absolutely truthful she wants to be here before she looks back up to the woman sitting across from her.

          “A little bit o’ both, Ah suppose.” She answers, slowly lifting the coffee cup up to her lips to take a sip. “Though mostly the first. Ah’m afraid ya’ll have made the counselin’ part o’ mah job even more difficult than usual, lately.” 

         Maria Hill doesn’t talk around problems. Honestly, she simply doesn’t have the time, and neither does Rogue. She’s here for a meeting, accepted purely because she respects the woman who’d requested it ( and truthfully, had she expected there to be any trouble she wouldn’t have made it a point at all ). A slow sip of her americano does little to still the energy welling up in her veins; her pulse has been steadily beating out a staccato rhythm since about last Tuesday and her heightened caffeine intake since then probably hasn’t helped.

An exhale and she puts the cup down, giving a slight shake of her head. This whole thing hadn’t really been making her job any easier either. There’s a price that has to be paid in order for anything to work as it’s intended. 

         “Fair enough,” the Director replies slowly, fingers curled around the base of her cup. Brows rise and fall and she finds herself already yearning for another sip to spike her alertness. “I am sorry to hear that. It’s not really the intention, you know. Making lives more difficult. The opposite, really. Are there any questions I can help make more clear? I don’t have any problems clarifying where I can.”


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