How did I get so fucking lucky?
It was a strange thought to have in the middle of a firefight. But, crouching behind the blown out computer console he'd been reprogramming just seconds before and watching the two women he loved most in the world fight off a horde of angry aliens? Yeah. He was lucky.
It didn't even occur to him to feel scared. Valkyrie was immortal for one and for another, Natasha had already proven a million times over that she knew her way around dangerous situations. The only thing he worried about now was whether or not the upload had completed before the computer had been blown to bits. After two years as the Hulk, he'd managed to keep his giant green alter-ego at bay, content with contributing to their missions by using his seven PHD's instead of his muscles.
They already had that aspect covered. Watching the two of them fight was like watching a ballet. They'd been training as a team for the past six months, had been sleeping together for the past two, and every time he saw them together, they were more and more fluid, more intuitive of what the other would do.
Bullets and blades flew in all directions, as the women seemed to bend around each other, separate and come back together, blocking incoming blows from their enemies, covering each other with firepower and steel. Valkyrie swung the sword above Nat's head while Nat slid to the left and punched a would-be ambusher in the gut, electric currents knocking it unconscious.
He saw a pair of well armored aliens approaching from their blind spot. "Behind you, to the left," he whispered into his comm.
Valkyrie took it down with a sword to the gut. "Thanks, Big Guy," Nat said.
They both called him that. Most people called him that, but only when the two of them said it did it not sound laced with seven layers of irony. From Nat and Valkyrie it was sincere, gentle, playful, loving or sexy, sometimes all those things at once. It's how he'd known they were, well… the scientific part of his brain hated nonsense like this, but… it's how he'd known they were meant to be. At least for a little while.
With Natasha he'd known for a long time. They were both broken in the same way, afraid of their own power, afraid of their own pasts, afraid of admitting to and even admiring that angry core of themselves that gave them their strength. They'd been through war together, comforted each other but ultimately were two identical puzzle pieces; they fit awkwardly, and only with effort.
Valkyrie was broken in exactly the opposite way. Vulnerability was what she pushed away, hiding her sadness in layers of anger and bravado and liquor. He remembered the first time they'd met-really met-without the big green interloper. "I recognize you," he'd said. And she had too.
Valkyrie had been the puzzle piece that connected them all together.
He ducked back below the table as another bullet went whizzing by his head.
"Get out of the way! I don't want you dying on me yet, Mortal," the Asgardian called back.
Yeah, Bruce would do anything for them. But what they seemed to need most right now was for him to stay out of the way.
He checked his com system, calling to Tony to see if the files had come through yet. Nada. Just as well though. The other Avengers were fighting their own battle on the other side of the country. Something, something, Hydra, something. He didn't care about the specifics, just the tech they needed infiltrated and the files they needed in order to take whatever alien/Hydra threat needed taking down.
It was weird keeping a secret from the Avengers. He'd kept the secret of Hulk-or tried to anyway-all his life. But this? Relationship stuff? He'd never been one to sneak around.
However this just felt… too private and too new. All American, 1940's time-traveler Steve Rodgers would probably be shocked. Clint seemed the conservative type as well, with his beautiful farmhouse and wife and daughters. And he was too protective of Nat besides. And who knew what Thor and Loki felt at any given time.. they'd probably try to get in on the action. But the three of them needed time to figure everything out for themselves.
Besides it was easy to keep quiet for now. Everyone thought he had a thing going with Natasha anyway, and Valkyrie flirted at anything with legs that wasn't a table (or, weirdly, a talking goat. "You never know which magical god has decided to have a go at you by turning into a talking goat. Never ends well." He hoped she didn't have much experience in that regard.)
Frankly, even he was surprised things had turned out the way they did. Glad, certainly. Oh fuck was he glad. But if he had told his nerdy, fourteen year old self that he'd be with not one but two of the most gorgeous women in the world-galaxy even-at the same time, he'd have laughed.
An explosion rocked the building, knocking him from his crouched position onto the floor. And to his horror, he heard a stampede of incoming troops. Armor clanking, shots firing. He could see Natasha on the ground bleeding, eyes closed, her leg bent back at an unnatural angle. Valkyrie was kneeling beside her, shaking her, urging her awake, kissing her face.
His girls were in danger. And he was suddenly very, very angry.