AN: I own nothing except for the tablet where I wrote this (and even that's debatable).
The house was quiet, but that wasn't something out of the ordinary. The only sounds Natasha was able to register upon entering the two story building were the soft sounds of the air rushing by outside and the ever persistent creaking of the old hardwood floors.
Her footsteps interrupted the sweet sounds which reminded her of the tranquility they had managed to build, they echoed through the house, alerting its other occupant of her presence. Or, they should have, but following the steady thump and clack of her heels came -nothing. The house remained silent, not even the soft snoring which would sometimes greet her after returning home from a long day of working down at the Hub (a beaten up office for an electronics repair company both Natasha and Bruce had been working for) could be heard this time around.
Natasha had grown to like the silence, after years of moving from place to place, from war zone to war zone, from blast to blast and then from one Avenger's facility to the next; Natasha had welcomed the quiet of the little home they had found on the outskirts of the nice little town in western Croatia. Novska, it was named. It was something she had never envisioned when the thought of running with him had crossed her mind, a calm quiet life, protected by their once team members and now friends, enjoying the simple things of life, like growing grass and the vast number of stars which could be viewed from Earth. It wasn't something Natasha had ever even dared to dream, but found herself more than enjoying it, she found herself loving it.
But there was a thing as too much silence, and it irked Natasha to the point of reaching for the gun safely secured under her clothing, the one item from her previous line of work she still carried around.
Like riding a bicycle, the things Natasha had learned in the red room -although now repressed and filed under a 'bring out only if the need arises' file inside her brain- were still there, never forgotten: the tactics and movements of a master spy and an assassin.
She cleared the old dining room first, then moved and cleared the kitchen and then the small (and filled with Bruce's files and her various copies of different noir crime novels and computer manuals) living room area. It was all clear, both of any threats or of Bruce. She resisted the urge to call out for him, a move which she knew was risky and even idiotic and would have never even considered it before. But things change, it is the natural evolution of things and of people, and deciding to finally join in what humanity entails, meant that Natasha was now constantly finding herself stuck in the middle of these situations, where her training told her to do something, but her human emotions screamed at her to forget everything and simply run with it.
She sometimes listened to the voice of her training, the thick Russian voice loud and clear, saving her -and sometimes (most times) others from danger. Other times she listened to the soft, female voice which she could now recognize as her own mind speaking, and ran with what she wanted. It had been the soft Natasha voice the one which had led them there, to Novska; and it had been the Russian voice the one which had been helping them hide and maintain their cover for the three months they had been living there.
She finished the lower floor, clearing it and declaring out of risk, yet she never lowered her gun.
Bruce wasn't ever loud, but no matter how soft and delicate he moved or acted, the ever persistent jingle of his keys would softly break the silence, his breathing would come in huffs if he was trying to exercise (being careful to not go overboard), or in calm relaxed exhales if he was studying something. On several nights she would even hear the soft snores which would alert her of his passed out figure (most likely) in the kitchen or living room, under piles of research papers or on several occasions -a book.
Nothing. The house remained silent and Natasha tried to not panic, tried to listen to the Russian voice inside her head which instructed her to remain as stoic and alert as she could. But this was Bruce she was looking for, the peace and tranquility of their lives she was protecting. The Natasha voice inside her mind tried to scream at her, to tell her to run and find him, to call for him and -
"Oh, you're back!"
She didn't startle, because it was something she had long ago learned to control; but even if she didn't physically jump at his voice, she could still admit Bruce Banner had managed to do one thing no one had ever been able to (though of course there had been many things no one had ever managed to do until Bruce Banner had come into her life), which was sneak up on her. She was getting sloppy.
"Hey!" She smiled at him, because it was something she did, always. But her smile morphed into a confused look, one mirroring Bruce's own expression of puzzlement. With his calm eyes he raised his eyebrows, a quick little smirk appearing on his face as Natasha realized she still had her gun out and more or less pointing it directly at him and the cat he was holding. Wait, what?
"Where'd you get a cat?"
"I thought we were pass the whole gun thing?"
They each said simultaneously each giving the other a sly grin as they realized what they'd done.
Natasha lowered her gun as Bruce looked down at the bundle he cradled in his arms, a furry black thing he had found outside, meowing against the backdoor, almost shivering in the slightly cold weather.
"I couldn't hear you inside, did a quick check of the lower floor." She explained, lifting her shirt so she could safely secure her gun on its holster.
His gaze lingered on the exposed flesh and the scar which managed to peak as she secured her gun; he had seen it so many times but still grew fascinated by it every time he caught a glimpse of it. She smirked at him, enjoying how a faint blush tainted his cheeks at being caught staring -even after all this time.
"I gotta say though, I'm more interested in how exactly you came to be holding this little fur ball." She quickly added, moving towards Bruce and the small black cat he still gripped tight. Her green eyes focused on the small -kitten, enjoying the feel of its fur as she petted it, choosing to ignore the soft look in Bruce's eyes, staring lovingly at her from above the rim of his glasses.
"I heard her meowing a couple of minutes before hearing the car, went outside and found her there, cold and with her paw injured-"
"Oh, seems like the good doctor is at it again then." Natasha teased, a smile breaking across her face as the kitten curled in on her touch. It still surprised Natasha, even after years of living like a human and not the machine they had created long ago, how a simple touch could mean and do so much. The man currently staring at her being living proof of how touch could not only destroy but heal.
Bruce chuckled, enjoying the view of Natasha cradling the kitten's head far more than he ever thought possible, but it was nice, seeing her soft side directed at someone that wasn't him -even if that someone was a feline baby.
"Well I wouldn't say it like that, I don't really know much about taking care of -pets."
Natasha chuckled at his response, at how his voice was lined with a hint of amusement and that soft tone she knew he used when he was feeling content. She turned her eyes to him then, her hands still petting the now purring feline.
"Bruce, you need to get out of the house more often." She hadn't planned on sounding so serious, it was supposed to be a joke, something witty to get him smiling even more, maybe even give one of his deep laughs which she loved hearing so much. But the statement carried too much truth in it for it to be taken lightly, and as soon as she had finished uttering the words, both could feel the turn of atmosphere around them.
"Nat-" He started, his eyes starting to fill with the fear they both had worked so hard to get out of him, the hesitation and self-deprecation he had lived for so long until they had decided to run.
"It's been three months Bruce, you've been fine, no incidents."
"Three months is not that long a time Natasha." He admitted, a whisper in which he probably conveyed to her more than he had planned; but Natasha was still Black Widow as much as Brue was the Hulk, and some things can't be forgotten, like reaching for her gun or the ability to easily read people.
"It's still time Bruce, and it's been an -incredible time." She said, her hands leaving the kitten and going for him, a hand gently cradling his cheek, her touch instantly calming him, his breathing evening out and his eyes losing a bit of the sorrow which had crept unto them.
The kitten stopped purring, her eyes and head turning towards Natasha, as if she were able to question the woman on why had she suddenly stopped touching her?
"I think someone is upset you stopped petting them." He informed her, his tone amused even if his eyes still reflected a bit of his sadness.
"With all due respect to your new little feline friend, but uh- I'm more concerned about you right now."
She grabbed the kitten from him, glad when he didn't hesitate in handing over the little fur ball to her, and even more glad when she realized the feline instantly took to her touch, cuddling into her as if -Natasha shook her head and pushed thoughts of kittens and cuddling out of her mind. Bruce, she needed to focus on him.
"I'm fine Natasha, I just don't think it's safe for me to go out yet."
"When will it be then? Bruce you're not alone in this. If a worst case scenario were to happen -which I'm certain it won't- you have me." She argued, her voice calm but firm, trying to desperately let him see what she had been seeing in him for the past three months, hell for the past few years.
Bruce simply stared at her, his brown eyes looking at her from over his thin-framed glasses. She could see his mind was reeling, overthinking and overanalyzing, as it normally did.
"Nat-"
She silenced him with a finger to his lips, a tentative action but familiar all at once. The kitten meowed as Natasha brought her lips to his, a quick brush which served as a way of conveying all the things neither of them had even dared to voice yet, too scared of ruining their perfect bubble, of jinxing their lives.
"I'm not talking about going out to a crazy club, or a football game. I'm just saying-" She paused, looking to him, their foreheads touching, waiting for him to open his eyes and stare back at her.
"The guys down at the Hub wouldn't mind meeting another science dork like you." She gave him a smirk, one he responded to with an amused chuckle, taking his glasses off and cleaning them off with his purple shirt. Oh how Natasha loved that shirt.
"They wouldn't mind meeting my husband, either." She added, a teasing glint in her eyes. This time, Bruce did give her a small laugh in response, the sound made her give him a full genuine smile.
"Ah, yes, Dr. Renner and his wife Natalia." He responded to her, taking the kitten from her and laying her on the kitchen counter, the black fur ball looking up at both of them, meowing at having been taken out of their arms.
Natasha observed him in silence, welcoming the peace that suddenly seemed to dawn over him. It was one of the many things she enjoyed, watching him work; whether it was reading over a journal, reading his notes, making calculations or tending to the occasional wound either would acquire as they each tried (and more than not failed) to renovate the old house. She enjoyed it.
She let him work in silence, the pitter patter of the kitten's good paws and the breathing of her undercover husband the only sounds breaking it. Those were the sounds which calmed Natasha the most, the ones she had missed hearing upon arriving home moments before.
"So, what's the prognosis on this one, doc?" She teased after a few minutes of silent exploration.
"I think - you're going to have to ask those guys at the Hub if any of them know any good vets because I am way out of league with this little one."
His voice was light and Natasha could tell the comment was meant to be taken as a joke, but she couldn't let the opportunity slide.
"Why don't you ask them? Come to work tomorrow. There's this room on the fourth floor - you could set up a few pieces of equipment there, work at an actual-"
"Natasha, it's not-"
"Hey!" She cut him off, her voice now threatening to rise. It wouldn't be the first time they had quarreled over the situation, over his sudden fear of the outside and of people, but Natasha wasn't in the mood to fight, not after the events of the night. She had come home to think something had happened to him, she had lost her footing and had managed to get distracted enough for him to sneak upon her. Natasha wasn't looking into making a rough night into an even worst one.
"I'd be right there Bruce. You wouldn't be alone, not for one second."
Her hand came to rest upon his cheek again, it was a way of calming both of them down. Natasha enjoyed the warmth of his face, the way he always seemed to relax under her soft touch; Bruce simply enjoyed her embrace, her proximity as she tilted towards him.
"You need contact with people Bruce." She informed him, her voice soft, and her lips close to his ear as he gently laid his forehead on hers.
"Or you're gonna end up taking in more stray cats and end up kicking me to the curb."
She got a laugh out of him with that comment and both turned their eyes to the small kitten sitting calmly on the counter, still staring at both of them with big intuitive, innocent looking eyes.
"Never." He breathed out to her, sincerity and adoration pouring out from his eyes with just that one word, making Natasha smile one of her purest smiles ever, one she had never thought she would direct at anyone.
"Taking the cats in, or kicking me out?" She playfully questioned him, breaking the tender moment.
"Kicking you out, and taking in cats as well."
This time, it was her who laughed.
Bruce then eyed her, took his time to observe the woman in front of him, she was something to behold. He had always thought that, ever since they're forced meeting back at that old, shabby shack in Calcutta what felt like ages ago. She was even more magnificent when in battle, when doing what she did best: defending. But seeing her like this, without any masks, or armor on, was the sight Bruce preferred; dressed in an old cotton t-shirt she had lately taking a liking to and black leggings she couldn't seem to let go off; her red hair still as vibrant as ever, but with that soft look in her eyes which told him it was Natasha in front of him, not Agent Romanoff, or the Black Widow but simply Natasha.
He let her play with the kitten for a bit, enjoying how she moved her fingers around, amusing the kitten.
"I bet you already have a name for her and everything." Her voice brought him back to reality, reminding him of their current predicament and the injured animal he should have been looking help for.
"Name? Nah, thought I'd let you name her." He looked straight at her as he answered, enjoying how one red brow rose in what he assumed was a playful unvoiced question.
"You know if this is your way of trying to soften me regarding your problem, it's not going to work Banner." She smirked at him yet never stopped playing with the animal.
"Who said anything about that?" He played along, even if in truth that really hadn't been his reason for not naming the cat. In fact, he hadn't meant to keep the small animal. He had planned on fixing her up and convincing Nat to take her into town, offer her up to a good shelter.
But watching Natasha and the small kitten he realized -or more like remembered- that when it came to Natasha there really wasn't a guidebook he could follow, she was always surprising him (and herself, he dared to think). He should have considered the possibility she would fall for the little creature.
The kitten meowed in pain as Natasha tried to lift her again. "Bruce she really needs a doctor."
"Put her in the love seat, I'll see what I can dig up on cats and their paws."
Natasha smiled at him, enjoying him work had always been her favorite thing, and there wasn't anything better than watching Dr. Bruce Banner trying to overcome a challenge. It was an added bonus there was a kitten involved this time.
With a tenderness she didn't know she possessed, she managed to accommodate the kitten in the love seat, moving a couple of her books and some of Bruce's so she could gently lay the animal. The black kitten looked at Natasha with her black eyes and the former spy found herself gulping at such a stare. Who knew cats could try and intimidate?
"Nat!"
"Yeah doc?"
"Come give me a hand with this, I think I found something."
She petted the cat once more, enjoying the quick purr it gave her, before heading over to where Bruce sat at the table, his glasses now firmly placed on his nose, lab coat on and brow furrowed. It was time to get to work.
He ended up finding some basic instructions on what a sprained paw in a kitten looked and felt like and the proper ways to treat it.
They both worked on their new feline friend, both treating the case with a seriousness which ended up having both laughing in the end.
"Maybe you're right. I do need to get out more." He found himself commenting after watching the small kitten curling in on herself, prepping for a much needed nap.
Natasha turned to look at him, her face unreadable.
"I don't know, I think I'm kinda liking this whole pet rescuer persona." She finally commented, eyeing him from her side, her lips curling in a sly smile which made Bruce chuckle, taking his glasses off, a sign that he was done for the day.
"So you're not worried I'll end up adopting all the strays in the area?"
"So long as you don't kick me out, I think I can manage." Her voice was playful and serious all at once, a deed which Bruce was certain could only be managed by Natasha.
"Good." He said to her, a real but small and tired smile on his face. "But I do mean it, I guess a small, quick outing wouldn't hurt."
"No, it wouldn't."
"We could go for a walk around town, you can take me to that dessert place you've raving about?" It was more a question than a statement, his voice tentative and his eyes filled with an uncertainty which Natasha had grown used to seeing, yet did not like.
"Yeah, that sounds great. We can take it slow, build your confidence up again."
She smiled at him, with something in her eyes which both of them were still new to: hope.
"Yeah." He agreed on instinct, his hand making its way towards her own, giving it a gentle squeeze in gratitude.
"You're amazing, you know that?" He added then, a sentence which made him blush a nice pink color yet his voice never faltered as he uttered the words, his admiring eyes never leaving hers.
"It's nice to be reminded of it every once in a while though." She leaned in after that, meeting him halfway as their lips met in a tender kiss, their lips moving slowly but in a rhythm they both now knew and were familiar with.
She was the one to break first, a soft whisper coming out of her mouth, a word in what Bruce assumed to be Russian, because he could barely register it as she uttered it.
"What?"
"I named her Liho."
It took him a second to understand the meaning of her confession and of the strange word. "Bad luck? Why?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
"Because she's black and she sprained her ankle."
Her answer was so straight forward and muttered without any hesitation or embarrassment that Bruce couldn't help but give her one last small kiss, bringing their foreheads together as he released her lips from his.
"Do you still think your coworkers want to meet your husband?"
Natasha quirked her brows at his question, so out of the blue and without the usual tremble which would always be present in his voice whenever he remembered the fact they were living under cover.
"I'm sure they would, they're quite nosy when they want to be. But I thought you said you wanted-"
"What about me, think they'd take to me?"
She quirked her head at that.
There only a few people on earth who could confuse Natasha, and most of them were children; having skipped a large part of growing up (what with being raised in the red room) she sometimes still struggled with comprehending the minds of the young people of earth (especially the Barton's kids). So to say that Bruce Banner managed to confuse her was something big.
"Bruce-"
"Marry me, Nat?"
Yes, confused was a good word to describe her.
Bruce looked at her shyly but without doubt in his eyes. His growing locks of dark hair adorned with the strays of silver falling on his eyes as he stared at her, his face down but his eyes looking up at her.
"We're already-"
"No, Dr. Bran Renner is married to Natalia. What I'm asking is-"
"I adore you." She interrupted, a mirroring of the first time she had ever uttered those words, stealing a kiss from his mouth following her declaration.
He didn't get enough time to respond before he could feel her slightly pulling back, "And you're an even greater dork than I had imagined." She added, her hands still on his face, gently caressing him.
"Well, someone once told me that chicks did that kind of stuff?" He teased back, more of a question than a statement.
"They do." She answered before leaning again, kissing him lightly.
"So is that a yes?" He broke the kiss, him being the one who suddenly grew confused.
"We're keeping the cat, right?" Her eyes were playful, but her tone was serious and Bruce, his mind already on a strange high from kissing and asking her to marry him (something which he had definitely not planned on doing when he woke up this morning), suddenly couldn't get a clear read on the woman in front of him.
"Uh, yes?"
She chuckled before resting her head under his chin, right above his steady beating heart. It still amazed her sometimes, how in control of his own body he had become.
"Told you, you're a huge dork."
"I don't know doll, some chick told me I was rather cool the other day." His voice came out sporting one of the many accents he was fond of using whenever he felt nervous or confused around her.
"You're still a dork to me." Was the answer she gave him, enjoying how his arms ended up surrounding her, the heat of him engulfing her in what she had come to associate as the feeling of being -safe.
"My answer is yes, if you were left wondering."
"To your coworkers wanting to meet me or the other thing?" He threw back, a jest in honor of her previous questions to him.
"Both, but I meant the marrying thing."
"Good." Bruce's voice was calm, soft against her hair where he then pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, closing his eyes and exhaling in a mixture of both relief and content.
Natasha could finally get a read on him, on his nervousness and anxiety of finding himself asking her the one question neither of them had ever discussed. They were already married within their cover story, a tactical move which surprisingly had been suggested by Tony. Natasha had never even considered the possibility of making the story a reality. Marrying Bruce Banner.
It might have been pointless, childish even; a ceremony which would only be known to them (and probably Tony, since he had a way of finding things out about them without Natasha knowing). But Natasha found herself looking forward to it, to the simplicity and normality in signing a piece of paper, one of the many things she had been denied to ever consider, and one of the many (she suspected) Bruce had -on his own- taken off the table as an option for himself.
Still in his embrace, almost being lulled by the continued thump of his heart, Natasha spoke, "You do know this means you're going to have to go outside, right?"
"Yes." Was his answer. "I trust you Nat."
And those words right there were one of the most precious things Bruce could ever tell Natasha, words she would never tire of hearing.
"And I trust you."
It had been a long journey, regaining the trust in one another, the complete blind and unjudging trust they had formed back when she had dared to go up against the Hulk and ease Banner out of him. But the journey had been fruitful and surprisingly smooth. It hadn't been fast or easy, but it had been steady and painless and it had taken them both to that town, to that house and to their quiet and peaceful lives.
Trust was more important to both of them than anything else, and knowing they each held the other's, it was more a declaration of love neither had ever thought they would receive.
A soft but clear meow interrupted them, neither startling, but both diverting their gazes towards the small kitten on the living room love seat, watching them intensively, her black eyes shining in a way they hadn't been before.
"We are definitely keeping her." She claimed as she stepped aside, making her way towards the kitten.
"You know I never figured you for a cat person."
"I wasn't." She answered, her back to him.
"What changed?"
"Would you believe me if I said you?"
"No." He was quick to respond, because he knew it was not the entire truth. He had managed to have enough self-esteem to admit to himself he could have been a part of it, that he helped Natasha become who she was now. But he knew it hadn't been because of him she had done it, it had been because of her; because she had been tired of being a weapon in someone else's repertoire, tired of adding red to her ledger instead of wiping it off. He had only been lucky enough to have joined her in her path to redemption.
"Then I won't give you a reason."
Bruce chuckled at her reaction, but followed her towards the kitten; Liho, she had named her.
"I wasn't a cat person myself." He admitted as he stood behind her, staring again as she played with the kitten, moving her fingers so Liho could try and catch them with her paws.
"Good, this means neither of us will have the advantage when it comes to taking care of her." She commented.
"Good."
It was a simple life, on a simple house in a simple village with simple people who never asked too many questions and respected their privacy. It was a life neither had ever imagined ever having, yet they both found themselves loving. Because at the end of the day they could have this, quiet moments where they could be themselves, talk about all the good things which had happened to them, moments where they could burry all the sadness and heartache and enjoy the simple yet extraordinary things life brought. Like the ever persistent call from Tony or Pepper, or their kitten's purrs at night when Natasha unconsciously rubbed her belly with her foot, or fighting over what kind of bread to buy when they both finally managed to go shopping for groceries together.
It was mundane and ordinary, and it reminded Bruce of the lifetime he had once given up, and it reminded Natasha of Clint and Laura and the kids. Natasha finally understood her best friend and his choice of lifestyle as Bruce finally allowed himself to believe he could have something close to a normal life.
"Bruce?" Natasha called to her husband, taking advantage of the fact they were alone on the fourth floor of the Hub, the boys having been gone for almost twenty minutes.
Bruce looked up from his desk, his papers all over his desk, his glasses askew and his hair messed up.
"Jenny's on line four, she says Liho is ready to pick up."
"Give me five minutes." He called back, his eyes squinting at something in one of the papers he had in his hand.
"Banner?" She called again.
Bruce gulped as he turned to his wife, a single brow risen in a silent challenge.
"I'll pick the cat up, you pick dinner."
"Martinelli's?" She inquired.
Bruce smiled at her as he took off his coat, flinging it on the desk chair he never seemed to use.
"Surprise me, it's your specialty after all." He grinned at her, enjoying the way a faint color seemed to appear on her cheeks. It only lasted a moment, Bruce thought it lasted even less than a full second, but he couldn't help but grin internally. He had finally made Natasha Romanoff blush.
The Russian voice said something to Natasha then, it distantly sounded like a scold, but the former Avenger wasn't able to clearly hear it over the sounds of the young woman inside her, a clear and happy voice which uttered words like dork, and adore and luck, but most importantly, it reminded Natasha of one occurrence: she was happy, and that thought alone was enough for her.
AN 2: Ok, so it's been like seven years since I last wrote fan fiction (I've written original work, never stopped writing really), so I am beyond nervous right now. So the idea came from both reading some fantastic stuff on various sites and my over active imagination. Ever since watching AOU my mind has gone over a thousand scenarios on what would BruceNat (I like that name, sounds nice) will do when they finally manage to run away together (because I am a hopeless romantic who believes in her heart and mind these two deserve a win), for some strange reason this is what my brain came up with. It's not the most fancy of works, but I thought, 'hey, what the hell, what have I got to lose by posting this?'
So this is me, posting (gawd what am I doing?).
And hopefully this is you, clicking on that review button.
x
feriferfer