Title: Of Wedding Vows and Pink Champagne
Category: Thor/The Avengers
Genre: Humor/Romance
Ship: Darcy Lewis/Bruce Banner
Rating: Teen
For: Day #5 – Vow | Darcy Lewis Week (I'm late to the party and I don't care)
Word Count: 3,566
Summary: "I'm serious, Bruce, my vows start with, 'To my fluffy scientist…' and end with, 'Wow, tough room!'"

Of Wedding Vows and Pink Champagne
-1/1-

Bruce leaned in the doorway, his arms crossed loosely over his chest, an eyebrow cocked. He simply watched her as she moved through drawer after drawer of his desk, shoving papers around, muttering under her breath irritably as she searched and continually came up empty.

"How many pens do you need?" she complained, throwing a handful behind her, careless of how they scattered on the floor. "Come on, come on, where are they…?"

"Maybe I could help," he finally suggested.

"Oh my God!" she shrieked, whirling around so quickly, she tripped and fell against the desk, one knee pulled against the chest, her other leg extended across the hardwoods. She glared at him, a hand to her heart. "Y'know, for a guy with a giant living inside him, you are suspiciously quiet and sneaky…" She pursed her lips. "I'm getting you a bell."

Bruce's lips twitched as he walked further into the room, bending to pick up the pens and a few papers that hadn't survived Hurricane Darcy. Truth be told, this wasn't the first time he'd found Darcy looking through his things. Usually it was around her birthday or Christmas and she was too impatient to find out what her gifts were going to be, but both occasions were far enough away that he didn't have any presents hidden from her. And if he did, he'd gotten better at hiding them.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, she looked up at him from behind her dark hair, falling heavy over her face, something that often happened when she was feeling embarrassed. Her eyes fell to her lap as she picked at a loose thread on a worn sweater of his that she'd knit for him years ago. She usually wore it when he went out on missions, saying his smell calmed her, but he hadn't been in the field for nearly a week, instead getting more work done than usual while the world managed to stay relatively safe.

When lunch had passed and she hadn't popped by to see him, dragging him away from his work and making him eat something, he'd started to worry. He waited an hour before asking around if anybody knew where she was, but nobody had seen her since the morning. Nobody but Coulson, who was in a meeting, and JARVIS, who said he was sworn to secrecy about her whereabouts before eventually giving him a hint as to where he could find her.

Honestly, he felt a little silly that he hadn't thought to just check in their apartment in the first place. But when he wandered into their home office and found her rummaging through his desk, he quickly forgot about his own embarrassment.

"Any reason you're blowing off work to snoop?" He reached up to readjust his glasses before tucking papers and pens back into one of the many open drawers.

She turned her head to look at him, resting her chin on her shoulder. "Did you know Tony installed a countdown…? Every morning it's going to announce how many days until the wedding…" Her nose wrinkled as she bit down on her lip.

He took a seat next to her, resting his elbows on his knees. "It was hard to miss," he said with a wry smile. Tony wasn't known for subtlety, and he was more than a little excited that Bruce and Darcy were getting married. Partly because they'd agreed to let him help plan, mostly because Bruce was busy and Darcy knew there was almost no chance of them eloping with the world's best spies and superheroes keeping watch. Plus, "liquor fountain, Bruce… He promised there would be a liquor fountain!"

Her pink champagne idea was shut down and called 'tacky' but Bruce knew she was going to get one anyway. Since she was Coulson's right hand woman and the agent liked doing anything that might get on Tony's nerves, he'd already told her that he requisitioned one and was approved. How he swung that, Bruce wasn't asking, all he cared was that his bride-to-be was ecstatic.

"Yeah, well I was just sitting at my desk, playing Angry Birds and timing Coulson to see how long it would take him before he caught on and told me to get back to work — 'cause, you know, he's gotta keep those ninja reflexes sharp and I'm only trying to help— and then this loud, ominous countdown starts!" Her eyes widened for emphasis. "I might've ducked under my desk and told Coulson about my apocalypse bomb shelter out of hysteria!"

Bruce stifled a smile. "The bomb shelter you're building on the ninety-first floor of a skyscraper?"

"Hey!" She pointed at him. "Don't knock it! I've been pilfering supplies from Tony for nearly a year to build that thing. Do you have any idea how hard it is to sneak sheet metal by that guy? Or a whole team of edgy superheroes!?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Darce, you had Clint look over the blueprints for you to make sure everything was sound," he reminded.

"Yeah," she scoffed. "Well, there's no way we're putting in that nest; I don't care how many times he tells me it's safe up there..."

"And you had Thor hang up the sheet metal. I don't think Tony's going to forget how he took out a whole floor of windows when he tried to use Mjolnir on it like a regular hammer…" He frowned. "And you should probably stop encouraging Thor to watch those do-it-yourself, home repair shows."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, fine, but you're going to appreciate it when we survive the apocalypse and nobody else does!" She threw her hands up. "If it wasn't for my bright idea, I don't even want to know who you'd be repopulating the world with!" Her eyes narrowed as she pursed her lips in a frown. "And you better not be lining up prospects either, big guy."

"First, I don't think the apocalypse is imminent… and if it was, I still think your bomb shelter should probably be under ground…" He scratched at his temple thoughtfully. "Which provides a problem, because keeping me and my alter ego in a small, confined place doesn't seem like the smartest idea."

"Stop poking holes in my plan," she complained. "If you think you're so smart, you build our bomb shelter!"

Bruce blew out a breath. "We don't need a bomb shelter…" He shrugged. "And I'm pretty sure if he did need one, Tony's probably designed a top of the line, luxury shelter…" He nodded. "In fact, I'm almost certain of it."

Darcy snorted. "Yeah, because I want to be stuck underground for who knows how long with Tony Stark… That guy has 'cabin fever' written all over him; as soon as he runs out of things to take apart and put back together into tiny, killer robots, he'll turn Shining on us!" She shook her head. "No, thank you! I'll stick with my plan and we'll meet up with the others when the worst of it's blown over."

Amused by her theory, Bruce merely smiled. "If you say so…" He looked over at the desk again and tipped his head at her.

She sighed, reading the question there. "I was looking for something…"

"I can see that." He gazed around at the mess lightly. "Anything in particular?"

She mumbled something under her breath.

"Darcy," he said, raising an eyebrow.

She turned her eyes up and let out a frustrated whine, reaching up to bury her fingers in her hair, the wide sleeves of the sweater falling down to her elbows. "That stupid countdown went off and suddenly it was like, holy shit, we're getting married!" she admitted.

He paused, going still, his brow furrowed. "And that scared you?" he asked, carefully keeping his voice neutral.

"It was like anxiety overload!" she exclaimed. "I mean, once I realized the clock wasn't counting down the seconds on some bomb, I started hyperventilating under the desk…" She shook her head, her eyes wide. "Coulson almost looked concerned; I don't know if his daily botox injections are wearing off or he was legitimately worried, but he sent me home…"

Bruce's eyes fell, his chest aching hollowly. He offered a vague smile. "We can always push the wedding back," he offered, even as a voice in his head told him that pushing it back was just one step away from calling the whole thing off.

He couldn't say there weren't times he worried this would happen; that she would wake up and change her mind or suddenly see him for what he was and know that it wasn't the life she wanted. Every day he woke up and looked in the mirror, searching for it. He was almost certain that he could see a glint of green in his eyes and with every day that passed, with Darcy right there at his side, he worried it would become more obvious, that one day that fleck of green would be too bright for her not to notice. It would consume him and she would make her apologies, some excuses, before high tailing it for safer ground.

He couldn't blame her.

He was usually able to battle that fear with the fact that Darcy never even hinted that The Other Guy was an issue for her. She didn't ask him if he'd made progress on finding a cure or if anybody was even working on one. As far as she was concerned, they were one in the same. The Other Guy was a part of Bruce, and she loved him, both sides of him. Or so he thought.

With the wedding getting closer, he'd started to calm down, finding comfort in the idea that Darcy was willing to spend the rest of her life tied to him, giant green rage monster of a ball and chain included. He'd started to have faith in the idea that life didn't have to be completely dismal; there were upsides. There was relief, content, love, family.

And now that possibility felt like it was shrinking, moving farther and farther out of reach.

"What? No!" she scoffed, her brows furrowed. "Look, I just need to see your vows, compare notes, and make sure I'm not writing something totally lame…" She shook her head. "I was sitting there and all I could think was that my vows were barely coherent and I was going to look like a serious douche when you pulled out some crazy romantic spiel that'd probably compare me to some special strand of DNA or something!"

He blinked at her, not quite understanding. "You were looking for my vows?"

"Yes!" Her eyes darted around the room. "So? Where are they?" Her eyes narrowed. "I bet you used cue cards… They're probably color coordinated or something…" She dropped her head back and groaned. "I'm serious, Bruce, my vows start with, 'To my fluffy scientist…' and end with, 'Wow, tough room!' And you are going to look just as lame marrying me when people realize how insanely unromantic I am!"

"But you still want to get married…?" He stared at her searchingly. "To me…?"

Her head lifted slowly, eyebrows cinched. "Uh… yeah… Unless you rescinded the offer, in which case, I call bullshit and I want sole custody of the dog!"

His lips twitched. "Darcy, we don't have a dog."

"Well I'm going to get one, and I'm going to keep him after this totally not amicable divorce, and you'll be completely jealous of my fluffier-than-you dog!"

He snorted. "Fine, we'll get a dog, but we're not divorcing before we even get married." He rolled his eyes and gave his head a shake. "Blame a momentary lapse into insanity… I've obviously been spending too much time with Tony." He shrugged, feeling a blush creep up the back of his neck. "You said you were anxious about the wedding and all I could think was that you were having second thoughts, or you came to your senses, and it was just…" He sighed. "I don't know, a matter of time, I guess, before you called the whole thing off…"

She stared at him, her eyebrow cocked, expression twisted with confusion. "Was there an explosion? Did you hit your head?" She stared at him searchingly before reaching out and dragging her fingers through his hair. "Should I be looking for a head wound?"

He rolled his eyes, staring up at her as she rolled to her knees and leaned over him. "I love how you poke fun at my insecurities, have I ever told you that?" he asked sarcastically.

Darcy snorted, letting her fingers drag down the back of his hair and curl into the nape of his neck. "Fine, switch turned, sympathetic Darcy is on…" She tipped her head and half-smiled at him. "Bruce, we've been dating four years… I've been there when you were blown up, kidnapped and Hulked out... I watched the news footage at three in the morning, in this exact sweater, while your giant green alter ego took on aliens and robots and whatever some evil super-villain had to throw out that week." She laughed, reminding, "I stuck around when you and Tony had that prank war that went way too far; pink is not a color my hair should ever be and it better never be again!"

He smiled sheepishly; yeah, that hadn't gone quite as planned...

She shook her head, sighing lightly. "Marrying you? Probably the best decision I'll ever make." She shrugged. "I've made some doozies, y'know? One of which involves a police chase and a box of Pop Rocks that Coulson was kind enough to expunge from my record…"

His eyes darted to the left, trying to wrap his mind around that odd combination.

Darcy arched an eyebrow. "So if you think I'm backing out now, you're gonna be really surprised when we hit our twenty-fifth anniversary! I mean…" She tugged at his hair and smirked, "You're gonna be pretty old by then too, I should probably requisition the shock paddles now."

His lips twitched as he stared up at her. "Message received. I overreacted."

"Yeah, well…" She leaned down, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I wasn't really palling around with rationality this morning…" She rolled her eyes. "I mean, I spent most of the morning turning our apartment upside down…"

"Yeah, about that…" He ducked a hand into the pocket of his shirt and came out with a handful of bent cue cards with whole sentences or paragraphs scratched out. "I took them with me…" He shrugged sheepishly. "Sometimes I get a good idea and sometimes I rethink what I wrote and think it's stupid…" He half-smiled. "So if you were looking for perfection on paper, it's not coming out of me."

Darcy's face softened and she shook her head. She climbed into his lap then and pushed him back so he was leaning on his elbows. "Our wedding's going to have a pink champagne fountain and I heard Tony say something about flamenco dancers…" She chuckled. "I think as long as we vow to love each other to the limits, green sides and all, through this crazy life we've got… We're set."

Bruce laid flat on his back and reached up, dragging his fingers through hair, pushing it behind an ear and tracing her cheek with his thumb. "I can do that," he agreed, nodding.

"Good." She laid her chin down on his chest and reached out to scrub her nails through the shadow of whiskers on his cheek. "So I, Darcy Lewis, vow to love you when you're at your fluffiest; when you forget to eat and you leave the toilet seat up; when you use meditation as an excuse not to watch Teen Wolf with me; when I'm pulling my hair out I'm so scared you're going to get hurt on missions; when you turn into a giant green rage monster who only wants to smash; when you forget date night to play with Tony's latest toy; and when you're at your lowest, questioning our relationship because you can't believe I'm sticking around or that we work or whatever… Through sickness and health, for richer or poorer, yada, yada, yada…"

He laughed, trying to smile though his lips trembled slightly at the honesty in her words. He nodded, his eyes falling as he ground his teeth. "I…" His voice faltered.

She smiled understandingly and crawled up him, planting her hands on either side of his head and bending down to kiss him. "I know," she told him, tugging at his bottom lip with her teeth before she gave his nose an Eskimo kiss.

Bruce slid a hand around her waist and drew circles on the small of her back, watching as she shivered, letting out a puff of air as she sighed against his mouth.

"I vow to love you when you're at your Darciest," he said, his lips curling up at the corners. "When you're snooping for presents because you're too impatient; when you use my books as a table to paint your nails on; when you encourage Tony to be as outrageous as possible; when you're drunk on cheap pink champagne; when you make me a new playlist for everything I ever do…"

He chuckled under his breath. "When you leave wet towels on our bed and you wear mismatched socks because you kick them off and one always gets lost…" He stared up at her, taking in every curve of her face. "When I wake up to you building your bomb shelter at two in the morning because you can't sleep… And when you dance in the living room in your underwear, singing Spice Girls at the top of your lungs…"

His expression softened. "I'll love you always… When you pick me up out of my funk and when you leave me to it and instead get drunk with Jane and mutter about grumpy scientists in your sleep… I'll love you when we're old and grey and you're still preparing for an apocalypse that isn't coming… To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, 'til death do us part..."

She blinked, scoffing emotionally, and reached up to swipe at her eyes. "See, yours were totally better!"

He laughed, lifting his head up and kissing her, drawing it out, burying a hand at her hair to keep her close as their lips slanted and his tongue curled, dragging over the roof of her mouth, as her teeth raked across his lips and she hummed her content.

When he pulled back, she was smiling, her lips a little swollen and bright pink. Stacking her hands on his chest, she rested her chin on them. "I probably should've just stormed your lab and talked to you," she said decidedly.

He shrugged. "Probably would've been easier, but that's not generally how our lives go."

She hummed. "No." She shrugged. "But it works… For us, it works."

"Yeah…" He twirled a chunk of her hair around his finger. "So you're okay, now? No more anxiety?"

"Well, I'm really hoping JARVIS recorded what I said so I can repeat it at the wedding, but other than that, I'm good…" She frowned. "Wait, is that cheating?" Her eyebrow cocked. "Like, is it somewhere in the wedding traditions that we don't share our vows until the big day or something?"

"Why? I didn't figure you for superstitious, Darce."

She smirked. "I like everything super." She pressed her hips down against his. "My life is full of super!"

He snorted. "I don't think it's written anywhere that we can't hear our vows beforehand."

"Good." She played with a button on his shirt. "We don't need any bad luck, Doc…" She took on a serious expression. "Not with the apocalypse so close…"

He shook his head with vague exasperation. "Is there any space in your bomb shelter for our future dog?"

She perked up, grinning. "Oh my God, can we name him like, Boris or something? I want him to have one of those really intimidating names."

"Sure," he agreed, tucking an arm behind his head and watching as she got more and more animated.

"Ooh!" Her eyes lit up. "Or Magnus!"

Bruce merely smiled, nodding with each over-the-top masculine name she came up with. With their luck, they'd probably get some tiny, yappy poodle and it would never quite live up to the name she'd given it. But he imagined that fit into their lives just fine. Darcy, a young, quirky, free-spirited woman, marrying a sarcastic, bitter scientist with a hair-trigger rage problem that quite literally transformed him into a giant, green monster… and their poodle.

Whatever worked.

In the end, he was just happy that the future he'd been envisioning since a snarky assistant walked into his life and told him he would eat the lunch she brought him or she would tazer him was still on track. Maybe their wedding would be just this side of ridiculous, which probably matched their bizarre lives quite well, but all that really mattered was that it would be him and her at the end of an aisle, vowing to be together just like they had.

And when the countdown ran out, that's exactly what they got. Pink champagne fountain and all.

[End.]

Author's Note: Just something short and sweet and super-fluffy to make up for the angst-fest of my last Bruce/Darcy!