Disclaimer: still not mine...
A/N: at the end
I was glad, at the time, that I said I was fine,
But all honesty knows I wasn't ready…no.
-Sara Bareilles 'Bluebird'
It was another perfect night in paradise, the stars brilliant against the velvet black of the clear night sky. A crescent moon hung high overhead, a Cheshire smile beaming silver light onto the world below. White capped waves crashed against the base of the cliff, a soothing accompaniment to the soft rustle of the palms, caressed by the gentle, salt-scented breeze. It was almost possible, on a night like this, to believe that everything was right with the world, and all was at peace.
Almost.
The illusion was shattered as a tremor ran through the foundation of the house, and the windows trembled beneath the power of Stark's latest sound system. Laughter floated up from the pool deck below. Natasha breathed a sigh. She should be down there with them, celebrating. There seemed to be a lot to celebrate tonight. But instead she was hiding, overwhelmed and trapped on Stark's private island.
She shouldn't have come.
She'd known before she had arrived. He'd told her in person several weeks back, and she was happy for him. Barton had suffered so much at the hands of Loki. It had taken him so long to fight his way back. Now he was happy and mostly whole again, thanks to Bobbie Morse.
The Hawk and the Mockingbird.
Fitting.
She'd taken it all in stride at the time, but in reality, in person, it was harder to deal with than she'd believed. Oh she'd plastered on a smile and done her best to play the supportive partner and teammate, and for once he'd been too distracted to see past her walls. He claimed nothing would change, and yet they both knew everything had. He had made his choice, and she would respect it…it was time to move on…though her heart ached. She closed her eyes and melted deeper into the shadows, dangling a foot off the ledge and into empty space.
"I hope you aren't planning to do something drastic."
She tensed at his voice, annoyance stinging through her at the fact he'd managed to sneak up on her. She was really off her game tonight.
"If I'm forced to listen to one more Black Sabbath song, I might."
His deep chuckle made her smile, easing at the knot of melancholy in her chest. She glanced over her shoulder as he drew closer, slowly and deliberately, relaxed and non-threatening, ever on the edge of control. How alike they were in that aspect.
"Tony's taste in music is…" he paused, searching for the right world. "…not the most relaxing."
She snorted softly. "How'd you find me?"
"I had a hunch…which Jarvis confirmed." he admitted ruefully, leaning against the railing, gazing down at the ocean below.
She closed her eyes, melting back into the cool stone.
Five…Four…Three…Two…
"I'm sorry, but would you mind coming back over to the safer side of the railing?" He asked.
She laughed, tossing a coy smile over her shoulder. "What's the matter, Doc? Am I making you nervous?"
"In more ways than one." He retorted, and her smile faltered as his eyes met hers.
"I like it out here. It's peaceful." She continued, covering her slight. "No one to bother me…"
She swung her leg gently, closing her eyes, and smiling at the tension that rolled off the doc in waves.
"You're making the big guy nervous." He stated after a moment.
She smirked. "Just the big guy, huh?"
"Okay, both of us." Bruce admitted. "Come on, humor me. I have cake..."
A plate appeared on the railing beside him, along with a bottle of wine.
She couldn't help but smile. "Well, since you have cake…"
His hand appeared as she stood, and she gave him a smile grin as she took it, accepting his assistance in crossing the small space between the ledge and the wide flat railing of the balcony. It was warm, and strong. She released it, stepping onto the deck and claiming the lounge chair.
"Where's my cake?"
He slid it over to her, along with a fork, and busied himself with the wine, pouring it into two plastic Solo cups. Despite his wealth and expensive tastes, Tony insisted on Solo cups for all parties involving the outdoors and water. An eccentricity that Pepper allowed as it made for less glass on the pool deck and an easier cleanup for the staff. Wine glasses tended to have a short life expectancy when Thor in attendance. Bruce settled at the foot of her lounge chair, as it was the only remaining seat, ignoring her raised eyebrow as he handed her the glass.
"Cheers." He offered in salute, tapping the bottom of his glass against hers.
The wine was excellent, as was everything in Tony's cellar, his private island being no exception. Dark and flavorful, with a slight aftertaste of cheddar cheese. Californian then. She remarked on the fact and Bruce grinned. They shared the cake and sipped their wine in silence, mutually enjoying the peace and quiet, and ignoring the beat of the base from below.
As he refilled their glasses, he finally spoke the question she had been dreading.
"So what has you up here, flirting with death?
She swirled her wine absently, her eyes on the dark expanse of ocean as she considered an answer.
"I've been told that I'm a good listener." He offered. "whatever you say will stay between us, scouts honor."
She snorted softly. Of course he had been a boy scout. It suited him. The humor leached away as the melancholy returned. She sipped her wine as she considered his question.
"It's all a little overwhelming." The words slipped out quietly, and she grimaced, though once they began she found she couldn't stem them. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm happy for them, you know?"
Bruce nodded.
"But it feels like too much all at once. Clint and Bobbie." She faltered on the other woman's name, hiding it her slip with sip of wine. "But she makes him happy, and he deserves to be happy."
Even if it was with someone other than herself. It made sense really, in reality they couldn't really stay together forever, even though he was her life. Had been. He was Bobbie's now and she would respect his choice. She was a survivor. She would be fine. As if he read her thoughts, Bruce edged closer, his shoulder brushing hers and she leaned into it slightly, accepting the comfort for what it was.
"For what it's worth, I've been there."
Betty. She knew a little of the story. The girl he'd been forced to leave behind. He'd vanished for several months following news of her engagement. They'd all made sacrifices…it came with the territory.
"You're not alone, Natasha." He spoke after a long moment of silence, and she smiled slightly at the sincerity in his tone. He nudged her with his shoulder. "I hope you know that."
Her gaze remained locked on the moon kissed waves as she struggled to reign in her emotions. She felt his eyes on her and she smiled.
"You're a good man, Bruce." She stated, daring to meet his gaze.
He gave her a rueful grin at the comment, which gave way to a serious intensity. "I meant what I said."
The flutter in her stomach returned, and she smiled and leaned forward and brushed her lips against his cheek, lingering for a moment before pulling away. Then stood and collected the plate, dissolving the moment, and shuttering her battered emotions behind her well practiced mask.
"I think this cake is worth braving Stark's music for." She stated with a grin. "Care to join me, Doc?"
He smiled as he stood, and her heart gave a flutter at the sincerity in his dark eyes. He stepped closer, his gaze sweeping her face as he uttered the words…
"If you'll protect me."
She lost herself in the resulting laughter which washed away the lingering melancholy. She tossed a smirk over her shoulder at him, as she sashayed toward the open doors.
"I'll try, but no promises. If it comes down to you or cake…well you know how I feel about cake."
She grinned at his resulting protests as she slipped inside, Bruce a few steps behind.
You're not alone.
She knew it…and perhaps, with time, she would let herself believe it.
A/N: In a world where the story took an alternate turn, which I had expected with the addition of Mockingbird to Agents of Shield. Have to say I much preferred the Avengers 2 version. Less heartache. Ah well. Hope you enjoyed this bit of rambling.
