A/N: One more post-The Avengers, pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier fic. This one is about Bruce and Natasha building a friendship after she's chased and nearly killed by the Other Guy.

Let me know what you think.

Many thanks to ladygris for the Beta.

Namaste,

Sandy

Avengers

Taking a Chance

Chapter 1

"You wanna know my secret, Agent Romanoff? You wanna know how I stay calm?" Teeth clenched and his body stiff with resentment, Bruce Banner bit out the words. Without taking her eyes off him, Natasha unsnapped the guard over her weapon at the same time as Fury, both thinking the same thing and knowing it would be futile.

"Dr. Banner, put down the scepter." Steve's quiet voice was almost a whisper as he emphasized each word.

Looking down, Bruce blinked. When had he picked up Loki's scepter? All around him, the team tensed, picking up on the readiness that Natasha and Fury both felt. The computer beeped to indicate the sweep for the Tesseract was complete and that seemed to pierce the tension without alleviating it completely. Bruce laid the scepter on the counter. "Sorry, kids. You don't get to see my party trick after all."

He went to the console while Steve and Tony again argued. Thor's voice was in there as well, stating his case for the Tesseract to be returned to Asgard. Bruce took off his glasses, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Oh, my God!"

~~O~~

Before Bruce could explain, the world around Natasha exploded. The floor opened up and Natasha felt herself falling. She hit the deck one level down forcing a grunt out of her as well as Bruce. He lay just a few feet away face down on the deck. From what she could see, they were both bruised and battered, but not seriously hurt though her foot was pinned under debris.

Bruce groaned. A deep down moan of pain so great that there were no words to describe it. "Dr. Banner…Bruce, you gotta fight it. This is just what Loki wants."

A pair of medics approached at a trot, "You hurt?"

She waved them away and they quickly left the area. To Bruce, she said, "We're gonna be okay. Listen to me. We're gonna be okay, right? I swear on my life I will get you out of this! You will walk away and never…"

"Your life?!" Bruce turned toward her, his skin taking on a sickly green hue, the muscles under his clothes increasing in size, tearing the cloth as if it were nothing. He pushed to his hands and knees then to his feet, stumbling sideways to fall against some equipment. Horrified, she watched him transform from a mild mannered scientist with a charmingly soft-spoken voice and a kind smile into a giant hulking green monster.

"Bruce?"

Natasha gave one last hard pull, her foot came free and she got to her feet. The Other Guy saw her, his primitive brain settling on her as the source of his pain. He gave chase. She lost him for a while, but he found her again. And as he raised his hand to strike her, Thor came to her rescue with a flying tackle that pushed them through the bulkheads and into the maintenance hangar.

More scared than at any other time in her life, Natasha sat in a corner, knees pulled to her chest, shaking like a leaf. She tried to move, to stand and get back to work, but she couldn't. Couldn't move, couldn't think as her mind shrank away from the vision of what might have happened.

Natasha shot to a sitting position, her eyes frantically searching the darkened bedroom and finding herself alone just as always. And just like all other times the nightmare had come to her, the events that followed flooded her mind.

Through her headset, Fury's voice echoed, "It's Barton. He took out our systems. He's headed for the detention level. Does anybody copy?"

Her best friend and occasional partner had attacked the boat on Loki's orders. She was in a position to get him back and that knowledge provided the motivation she needed. "This is Agent Romanoff. I copy."

Tossing the sheet aside, Natasha padded over to the window pushing back the hair that stuck to the perspiration on her face. It was down to her shoulders now, fluffing out in waves when it wasn't wet. Maybe what she needed was a new style, a new color…a new job.

She didn't want to let on that she wasn't sleeping well or Fury would send her to therapy for the nightmares. Or maybe not. Semi-annual psych evals were SOP with SHIELD, though the majority of SHIELD agents were trained to fool others, and she was better at faking sanity than anyone, except maybe Clint.

Usually, she worked these things out through a combination of meditation, hard work and intense physical activity. But it wasn't helping this time, and she knew the reason was because every day she was confronted with the source of that irrational fear.

Turning away from the window, she snorted. The fear wasn't irrational. It was quite real. Natasha had faced her mortality on more than one occasion in her life, but the day the Other Guy chased her through the helicarrier it had seemed like she really would die. Her death would come at the hands of someone she barely knew though she'd sensed that they could be good friends, given the right circumstances.

At heart, Bruce was kind, soft-spoken, generous, compassionate, and giving. He could also be very loving if given the chance. Bruce had tended to the sick and injured in Calcutta with very little chance of being paid for his services. And when he was paid, often payment would be in the form of a meal or a place to sleep for a night or a week. What little money he was paid went to cover the cost of medical supplies.

When she found him, his clothes were worn and he hadn't eaten in over a day. In the U.S., he would've been looked down on for his condition when people should've been looking up to him for the things he'd done. Natasha admired Bruce for his convictions and unwillingness to compromise his principles, which were diametrically opposed to her own. On a good day she lied a minimum of five to ten times, and that was to her friends and colleagues. She didn't even want to think about strangers and marks. Not that she was keeping count, but each lie added more red to her ledger until it was so full that there was no way to wipe it all out.

Your ledger is dripping, it's gushing red, and you think saving a man no more virtuous than yourself will change anything? This is the basest sentimentality. This is a child at prayer. Pathetic! You lie and kill in the service of liars and killers. You pretend to be separate, to have your own code, something that makes up for the horrors, but they are a part of you, and they will nevergoaway!

On that point, Natasha agreed with Loki. Many times she'd wanted to quit. To just leave this life and fashion one for herself that was simpler, away from everything she'd come to know. Yet each day she stayed brought with it not only the horrors that Loki cited, but another chance to wipe out some of that red. And as long as the possibility existed, she would stay where she was needed. She just wished that Fury had given her a different assignment, any assignment that took her away from the source of her fear. But he hadn't, so she stayed on as the agent assigned to watch over Bruce when he was on the helicarrier, the SHIELD compound or the labs at Stark Industries in the same way that Clint had been watching over Selvig and his work on the Tesseract. Sometimes, the irony of one person on SHIELD's watch list keeping an eye on another made her laugh.

Quis custodiet ipsos custodes? Who will guard the guards themselves?

If they were watching each other and knew they were being watched by someone being watched…

Shaking loose that thought, Natasha changed into her workout clothes and went down to the gym. After a good long stretch, she stuck earbuds in, and got on the treadmill. An hour later, she felt someone come in and get on the stationary bike to her left, setting a moderate speed. Keeping her eyes focused on the window to deter conversation, she started slowing down until she reached walking speed for her cool down.

Removing the headphones and tucking the iPod into her pocket, Natasha stretched her hamstrings and calves. As she headed for the door, a voice floated over to her, echoing slightly in the huge room, "Don't leave on my account, Agent Romanoff."

She put a bland expression that was neither inviting nor forbidding in place, glancing over her shoulder. "I'm not, Dr. Banner. I've finished my workout."

"Bull."

Peeved at being called a liar when she'd told the truth, Natasha leveled an annoyed glare at him. "Sorry?"

"This is a replay of our conversation in Calcutta, Natasha. You lied and I called you on it. The difference now is that you didn't pull a gun on me."

"Maybe I'm not lying. I'm also not in the habit of bringing weapons to the gym."

"From what I've heard, in your hands, anything can be a weapon." Bruce tossed the towel over his shoulder, and popped the top on his water bottle. After a good, long drink during which his eyes never left hers, he took a step closer and Natasha just managed not to step back to keep the distance between them. He had to have seen something in her expression because he gave her a sad half-smile. "I've been dealing with people's reactions to the Other Guy for a while now. I know when someone's afraid of me."

She returned the smile with one of her own. "Don't forget who you're talking to, Doctor. Nothing scares me."

Again, Bruce moved closer. Just a half-step, but it was enough. "Then why do I see fear in your eyes whenever I get within arm's reach? Granted, it's hardly noticeable, but then I see things other people don't."

Drawing herself up to her full height, Natasha drilled him with a look that had put the fear of God into more than a few men, though Bruce seemed to find it highly amusing. "You're imagining things, Dr. Banner. This conversation is over. I'll see you in the lab in one hour."

Turning on her heel, she again headed for the exit, coming to a stop when he said, "The lies we tell others are nothing compared to the lies we tell ourselves."

Still annoyed, she faced him again. "Excuse me?"

"The only thing self-deception will get you, Agent Romanoff, is an ulcer."

Without responding, Natasha slipped between the hanging bags and didn't stop moving until she reached her quarters. In a rare moment of frustration, she kicked out at the chair in the corner. Feeling somewhat better, she went to get showered.

~~O~~

Watching Natasha dart from the gym, Bruce shook his head and went back to the bike, checking the heart monitor he wore on his wrist, relieved to find it still below one hundred even after his disagreement with Natasha. Meditation techniques he learned while in Rocinha, Rio de Janeiro helped him keep a firm hand on his anger most of the time, though they were less effective now than in the beginning. In their first meeting, Bruce had pretended to be enraged at Natasha just to see what she would do. And yes, it was mean, but it also provided him with information Natasha had been unwilling to give freely. Actions sometimes spoke louder than words.

From the way she'd dressed at that first meeting, she had hoped to use her feminine wiles to get him to comply, changing tactics when it didn't work. It wasn't her fault that he'd long ago taken at least partial control of his body's reactions to beautiful women. Bruce still appreciated the magnificence of the female form in all its configurations while mitigating involuntary responses that might cause the appearance of the Other Guy.

There had to be a way for them to get past this hurdle, past the instinctive fear response she around him because it was causing tension for both of them. One thing he could try would be to have a look at her personal history though he doubted that even SHIELD knew everything. Any gaps, he would have to convince Natasha to fill in herself, if that was possible. She wasn't much for sharing unless she got something in return.

What they needed was shared experiences that were more ordinary, that had nothing to do with the lab, third world countries or alien invasions. On the way back to his quarters, Bruce started making a list of things he hadn't done in a long time for one reason or another as well as things he'd never done and had always wanted to try. They could start small and build up to something big. They made a small inroad today while she was running and he was on the bike even if she didn't know it at the time. Hopefully one day, they could actually be in the room together without the mistrust.

After his shower, Bruce stood in front of the mirror running a hand through his wet, shaggy hair. "I need a haircut."

From the closet he took a pair of jeans, a plain white T-shirt and boots. After dressing, he used a comb to tame his hair as much as possible. He hadn't shaved in a couple of days and liked it that way for what he had planned. Shoving his wallet into a back pocket and his phone into another, he left his quarters and headed for the lab. Natasha was already there standing in front of the window staring at the water. He went to stand beside her though not too near, hands in his pockets, waiting for her to initiate conversation.

"Shouldn't you be working instead of daydreaming, Doctor?"

Keeping his voice calm and upbeat, he shrugged. "I've decided to take the day and do something that's not work. The SHIELD version of senior skip day."

The term didn't confuse her as much as hearing him use it. "Such as?"

Again he shrugged. "Start with a haircut then make it up from there. Just take time to relax without having to adhere to a time schedule."

"You're not permitted to leave the compound without an escort. I'll assign a bodyguard."

As though the thought just occurred to him, Bruce caught and held her eyes in their reflections on the glass. "That would draw way more attention than we want or need. When was the last time you had a day off?"

"Three weeks ago. I spent the day in meetings with Fury and Hill."

"I meant a day where you did anything you wanted. Read a book, walked in the park, took a nap."

Natasha scoffed. "I never nap, and I'm too busy to sit and read unless it's for a mission."

"Let's take the day. You and me. No worries. No timetable. No bosses looking over our shoulders. What d'you say?"

She was silent for a for so long Bruce thought she would decline then, she said, "Okay." At the door, she turned puzzled that he hadn't followed. "Coming, Doctor?"

Bruce's lips turned up in a grin, indicating the skin hugging cat suit she wore. "If we're going out in public, you might wanna change."

Nodding, Natasha let a slow smile appear. "I'll meet you downstairs."

"I'll check out a vehicle while I'm waiting."

Ten minutes later, Natasha joined Bruce outside SHIELD's motor pool. She too was dressed in jeans, a white T-shirt, and boots, but that's where the similarity to his clothing ended. The faded denim fitted over the lower half of her body as if it had been designed with her in mind, the legs tucked into the tops of her black leather boots. While plain, the white top molded itself over her curves emphasizing her assets. If they wanted to be inconspicuous, this might not do it. But Bruce wasn't complaining. Warily, she looked from their transportation to him and back. "You really wanna do this?"

Nodding emphatically, Bruce pulled on his leather jacket, flipped the collar down and zipped the front. "I do."

For the first time since she'd been given the assignment to watch over him, Natasha smiled as she took the keys. "Then I'm driving."

Natasha put on her leather jacket and gloves, swung her leg over the 70s style Harley Low Rider and used her left heel to raise the kickstand. She started the engine, and he climbed on behind her. There was no sissy bar so he would have to hold onto her to keep from falling off. The moment Bruce touched her, she stiffened, but he refused to let go. They had to get to a point where they were comfortable with each other, and if that meant casual touching, so be it. Neither of them had much fun or simple companionship in their lives, before or after New York. He and Stark were amenable while working, but it wasn't the same as being true friends, and Bruce hoped this would be the start for Natasha and him.

The Harley surged forward, and Bruce clamped his hands tighter on Natasha's waist. Over her shoulder she asked, "Where to, Doc?"

"With hair like this, any barber shop will do."

"You may be sorry you said that."

Bruce heard the humor in her voice and responded to it. "Then let's get to it, Tasha."

They rode through the compound and out the gate, turning onto the main road into town. "Coulson's the only person to ever call me Tasha."

"Want me to stop?"

"No. The memories are good ones, Doc."

Careful to keep his hands still, Bruce leaned a little closer so he wouldn't have to shout. "Good. Please call me Bruce instead of Doc or Doctor, since we're taking the day off."

"Of course, Bruce."

Somehow, she still made it sound like a title, not as if they were friends, and that had to change if she was going to get over her fear of the Other Guy.

A short ride later, she pulled to a stop in front of an old fashioned barber shop. While he had his hair cut, she paced in front of the window like a cat in a cage, her movements fluid and elegant, drawing the attention of the men inside as well as those passing by. When they stopped to stare, she would glare at them and they'd quickly move on.

They emerged into the sunshine still tinged with the chill of early spring. Squinting in the bright light, Bruce looked around at the people coming and going with no idea that two of the heroes of the alien invasion were among them. In an aside, Bruce whispered, "You might want to dial back the Black Widow just a bit, Tasha."

"What do you mean?"

"Your body language screams 'bodyguard'. Stop glaring at everyone who comes near and just be. No one will fault you for taking a day for yourself. And if they do, tell them to come talk to me." Again, she gave him a long, intense stare then reluctantly nodded. Her stiff posture relaxed some, but not enough. "Let's take a stroll."

Bruce chose a direction at random and started walking. As they passed an ice cream shop, he said, "I'm getting a cone. Want one?"

"I'm good."

"I know you are. So what are you having?"

For one of the few times since they'd met, she looked embarrassed. "I haven't had ice cream since I was a child."

Bruce opened the door, ushered her in and stepped up to the counter. "Two Cookie Dough waffle cones, please. Double scoops."

A few minutes later, they were seated on a bench in the park enjoying the sun dappled shade and watching the ducks swim in the pond. Though she was more relaxed now than when they first left the compound she still held herself stiffly, her eyes darting everywhere. Bruce wasn't sure how to change that. Instinct told him just to keep doing what he was doing and eventually she'd find her own path.

Last night, Bruce had read her file, which was sadly lacking in details about her life before she became known as the Black Widow. He knew that she hadn't had a normal childhood, but then neither had he. His father had been placed in a mental institution after killing Bruce's mother, Edith. As an adult, Bruce regained his repressed memories of that time, and though he still had unresoved issues with his father, he was able to think about that time without the anger he'd harbored well into his twenties. While in foster care, Bruce had been treated differently because of his father. He hadn't done many of the things that kids normally do. He hadn't played Little League, visited a theme park, played board games with other kids or thrown a Frisbee around just for the heck of it. Bringing more fun into Natasha's life would also allow him to experience those things for himself.

He finished his ice cream, rolled the napkin into a ball and turned sideways in the seat to watch Natasha. She nibbled at the cold treat tentatively, as if she didn't think she'd like it, showing surprise that she actually did enjoy it. Sensing that he was watching her, she turned and smiled.

Bruce returned the smile and pointed. "You have a little…"

She swiped at her cheek with a napkin. "Did I get it?"

He took the napkin and scooted closer. Holding her head still with one hand, he wiped the smear off and handed the napkin back. "There."

"Thanks."

Slumping down in his seat, Bruce rested both elbows on the back of the bench and took a deep breath of the cool air. "What should we do next?"

Shrugging, Natasha popped the last of the cone into her mouth and chewed, talking around the food, "What do you want to do?"

Bruce dropped the napkin into the trash and waited for her to do the same. "There's one thing I haven't done in a very long time. Most because the other kids were mean."

"Oh?"

"Remember we're in public, and no cheating."

"I'm a spy, Bruce. Cheating is a way of life." Her eyebrows knitted together over her nose in puzzlement at his smirk. "Okay, but why is it even an issue?"

Bruce took off his jacket and tied it around his waist. "Because I'm going to do this." He tapped her on the shoulder. "You're it!"

TBC