<div class="floatleft">(http://www.papaya.pe/imagenes/noticias/2/230/cobie-smulders614-15369.jpg)</div><br/><br/><hr/><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><strong>Name:</strong> Maria Hill<br/><strong>Title:</strong> Director of S.H.E.I.L.D. <br/><strong>Location:</strong> Private office<br/><strong>Time:</strong> 4:58 PM EST<br/><strong>Tags:</strong> Tony Stark </span></span><br/><hr/><br/>Maria's jaw was made of quarry stone, and fire ants. As Tony spoke, lingered, insulted, jabbed; and, forcefully inserted his will into things like a poorly trained German Sheppard. Her eyes were cold, and emotionless, holding back fury. As a girl, she would have squeaked and forced him out of her sight. She was older now, and in much sharper control of her patience. However, Maria had lost count of his boyish taunts, blinking suddenly every time his cadence popped. Her thoughts twitched, and she became even more shocked by his brutishness. Then, more shocked. Again. He was like the court jester. 'Would he ever stop talking?'<br/><br/>Finally, his melody of insults came to a rest.<br/><br/>Completely ignoring him, Maria decided to volley back his direction without answering a single one of his questions.<strong>"Avert your eyes." </strong>She looked at him as if she was offended by his drinking. She had watched his glance shift downward more than once while he made his entrance. It was a simple command, one that he would have to follow. It felt good, Stark would be under her thumb for years, the first moment of her control over him passed by almost without her noticing. Her smugness arrived though, still folding her body into different spaces of erotic fashion. Tony would be tempted to look closer as she lifted her arms to gesture at his perversion.<br/><br/>She could tell that his lust for her was vacant. He was just trying to get a rise out of her. The expression on his face was harmless, but she was still exposed, uncovered and being soaked in by one of her most bitter rivals.<br/><br/>Director Hill hated this man, every time his blunt face turned the corner, she wanted to smack it. And, now, he had the nerve to unlock her office, and enter uninvited. She felt like she was in grade-school, being teased by an insecure bully. Maria knew that he was aware of what he was doing. He walked in on her as if she was trespassing, as if he was the one with his cock out. He was scared, and he'd overcompensated with two or three too many personal remarks. 'I have the power, and if it comes down to it, I could even neutralize him if this got violent.' Her toned muscles started to shoot toward him for a moment in a climactic moment of frustration, in another command for Stark to keep his eyes off of her.<strong> "I said look away Stark! You're an ass." </strong><br/><br/>She stormed toward the bathroom in a focused rampage.<strong>"Does your childishness know no bounds?"</strong><br/><br/>The door was left open. Maria cared not to create privacy. There was a robe hanging from a hook, likely due to the concerns of some one behind the scenes of her promotion. It was a woman's robe, silken and died with black ink. It looked like something a stripper would wear, and it was one size too small. She put it on anyway, and tried to have an adult conversation with the illustrious man of Iron.<br/><br/>All of her legs were exposed, and almost every motion exposed the lower crease of her buttocks. The lace wasn't natural on her. She'd worn cotton under-garments her whole life. There was an itch from the silk, psychological, of course. The belt was loosely wrapped about her waist. Maria walked through the room again, and set herself up against the guest's side of her desk. Crossing her ankles on the floor, her straight legs and straight arms braced her full of sloth.  As she posted herself up, she started to speak again:<strong>"Well, You know what room you're in. So, you know now that I'm your boss."</strong>She hummed, shaking her head to one side.<strong>"That must be a tough pill to swallow. See you and Nick are both cowboys. You're selfish. You carry big guns, and that makes you think that you have the right to protect people. You don't really understand what your role is, and the sad part is that you're actually smart enough to figure it out. You're just too scared to." </strong><br/><br/>Maria smiled, and her arms crossed in front of her. Her legs shifted too, but not much, she stayed diagonal, her ass against the corner of the perfectly cut, Oak, table-top.<strong>"I never liked cowboys, not even as a girl. I always rooted against my father. He wanted Clint Eastwood to get the evil union soldiers. He wanted the vengeance that Josey Wails wanted, and the vengeance that Wyatt Earp wanted, and Jack Carter, and Billy the Kid... The man with no name." </strong>Her smile was gone. She looked like she had suddenly gone homicidal.<strong>"I always wanted the police to catch em, hang em, bury 'em under the river." </strong>There was a darkness here in Maria that not many had ever become familiar with. It had everything to do with her father.<br/><strong><br/>"So, how can I help you today Mr. Stark?"</strong><br/>