All she heard was thunder. It vibrated around her, through her, and was her entire world. She breathed in, and choked on dust and stale air. She opened her eyes.
Various shades of grey surrounded her. As her eyes focused, the grey became debris of the building she was in. Considering she was on the third floor when... whatever happened, happened... and was now on the first, she's amazed to be alive. She doesn't bother to hope she is uninjured, and avoids movement.
'I must be in shock. People usually panic about now.' She is no expert though, merely an office lackey. She hears the thunder again, hears it rattle her eardrums and her skull. It sounds like a roar, though the only things loud enough to make that sound have been extinct for billions of years.
Other sounds filter in as well. Gunshots, zappy sounds, shouted orders, panicked screams. It's actually rather loud, and the fact that she hasn't noticed makes her worry about concussions. 'Whatever you do, don't fall asleep.'
She wakes up on her side, drooling on her arm. Nothing hurts, and she's woken up, despite possible concussions and injuries. The world is quieter now, the sounds of sirens and people yelling for their loved ones filtering in. She decides it's safe to move, carefully testing the debris around her to find a safe way out.
An eternity later, she's free and stumbling. Dirty, exhausted, hungry, but breathing fresh air, she sighs in relief and enjoys the sunshine on her face. And promptly trips over someone.
Grumbling, she doesn't bother to get up, and instead shifts around til she can see who she tripped over. Her head complains as she quickly looks away.
'I've tripped over a naked man. Why is there a naked man? ...Was that a dart?' Peeking over, she sees there is indeed an orange dart sticking out of his thigh. She quickly takes off her torn blouse, thankful she wore a camisole today, and covers him as she pulls the dart out. She prods his neck for a pulse, and figures out he's breathing after some fumbling. She peels one eye open, though she doesn't know why, and he grumpily wakes up.
"You look like how I feel," she greets. "Do you want me to call for help or find your clothes first?" He stares at her for a bit, his brain slowly catching up with her words.
"Uh. Oh. Yeah, no, they, uh.. They're used to it. Or new. But it should be fine. Uh, thanks for, um.. your shirt." He's blushing, and stuttering, and embarrassed, and she reminds herself this really isn't the time to develop a crush, especially on a weird naked man. Her quickening heart ignores her, and she blushes and looks away, frowning at herself. She catches sight of black suits and calls to them, waving them over. She avoids looking at the cute weird man.
Several hours later (or maybe just one, she doesn't know), she has been poked at, questioned, bandaged, and is still blushing over the naked man that the suits took away. She slowly but steadily makes her way home, thinking of her calendar and to do list, and math problems when she gets bored of that. She is most definitely not avoiding thinking about the man, and she feels her consciousness silently judging her.
She forgets everything when she realizes she is probably gonna have to look for a new job. Sonuvabitch.
"Do you want her number? Or are you going to hang on to that blouse indefinitely?"
One week later, and Tony still hasn't given up. Bruce, in fact, hasn't returned the blouse (and never will, most likely) or thrown it away (that would just be rude). It did not mean he liked her. She was a stranger! Honestly, he's just been busy. Tony, however, doesn't seem to believe him, so Bruce resolutely ignores him.
After a few silent minutes, Tony changes tact. "I looked her up. Caitlyn Gray, Cat for short, good office worker. She'd make a great minion. Weren't you saying you needed an assistant?"
Bruce stares in disbelief, then dawning horror. "Tony, no, wait a minute. Think about this!"
"Too late! JARVIS, call Miss Gray and schedule her interview in half an hour. Either you can do it, or I can. Which I won't, I'll probably just hire her, interviews are way too boring."
Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose, grumbling with irritation. "This is a bad idea Tony."
Tony just gives a cheeky grin, calling over his shoulder as he leaves, "All my best ideas are!"
A couple weeks after a very awkward interview, and they were still hesitant with each other. She was still blushing and quiet, he still stuttered and acted embarrassed, and it was killing her. 'Why oh why do I always fall for shy guys?! It's not like he's perfect!' Something had to happen eventually, and she would get over him, just as she always did.
And something did.
Green. All she saw was green. It was warm, almost hot, whatever she was pressed up against. Wind wiped past her, almost muffling the sound of gunshots. 'Again? Really?! What the hell did I do to deserve this? Murder the president in a past life?!' Then she noticed the nipple.
Confusing. Nipple weren't on walls. The green was moving. Muscles... chest? Shoulders, arms. (The arm holding her against the chest it was attached to covered her entire lower back!) She finally looked up.
Cat was good with faces, but it didn't take a genius to recognize the Hulk. What left her gaping, however, was recognizing Bruce's face in the Hulk's visage. He breathed deep, running from enemies she couldn't see, and roared. The thunder she remembered echoed in her head long after he was done, and much louder than before.
She was terrified, momentarily deaf, would have giant bruises later, and cursed herself for her stupid heart. And when the battle was won, and he had woken up (with her lab coat covering him), she blushed and stuttered as she asked him out, growing more horrified as she rambled on assurances and praises and mushy things (the same ones that were the reason why she hated romcoms, actually). He stared stupidly at her, for quite a long and worryingly while, then blushed and stuttered a determined yes.
They both ignored Tony as he flew by blasting wedding bells.