Hey guys! Random one shot!
He really sucked at this.
Bruce wanted to think that years of being on the run has left him with a good sense of alertness and instinct but that fancy was quickly shattered when he walked through the door of his run down shack to find Natasha sitting on the floor, a gun off to the side but within reach and a nasty looking gaping wound on her leg before more blood stained the dirt floor, he was on his knees. There were no questions and no answers in that moment, only blood and skin being sewn back together and a few hisses being the only thing that gave away her pain. When it was all over, he sat next to her, still on the floor and wishing that he had something to drink.
"Sorry bout that." Natasha's voice was soft and seductive and warm, just the way he remembered it. Bruce tipped his head back against the wall. He did not want to be having this conversation, "Got a hit and knew you were here."
"SHIELD—"
"SHIELD doesn't. I do. Of course I know where you are." Natasha rolled her eyes at him, "Who do you think I am?"
"—Who are you?" Bruce felt a tinge of anger seeping through his control, "Who are you to just—just—show up like this like nothing's happened and—"
"Bruce." That was all she had to say to get him to stay his temper. The other guy really liked her for some reason. Even if he took over, he wouldn't want to hurt her, and that was a security that Bruce missed being able to cling to, "I'll leave you alone, if that's what you want but I know that's not what you want."
He's still mad at her for making him think that they wanted the same things.
"Leave me alone."
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The next time they meet, she's sitting at his table in his Croatian apartment a cup of his tea clutched in her hands. There's something haunted about her expression. Bruce doesn't say anything though. He chose to meander his way about the room, getting a cup of his own down from the top shelf and pouring some hot water from the kettle over a bag. Finally, he settled in front of her. She blinked, as if she hadn't registered him for a moment.
"You should get better at hiding." She spoke quietly, "It'll do you some good. Things are—they're getting a little weird, Bruce."
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Despite her tips, she finds him a third time in Ukraine. He doesn't even bother to look surprised anymore. He just longed for a real conversation of some sort, something to make him feel like they at least tried their hands at closure before giving up. Natasha dumped a duffel bag on his table and sat down, stretching her hands overhead and drinking water directly from the faucet. She looked like she'd taken a vacation in hell and Bruce desperately wanted to know what happened.
"I missed you." She spoke quietly after she ate whatever she could find in his refrigerator, "I missed you but I couldn't leave yet. I still had a job to get done and I knew you wanted to be alone for a while and that you—" He flinched away from the contact, but she stroked his cheek all the same, "—would be mad at me no matter the logic or the thought process that went in it—I wanted to run, Bruce."
"And?"
"So here I am." She slid closer to him and wrapped her arms around his neck as she pulled herself into his lap, "Tomorrow, the whole world thinks Black Widow is dead." She kissed Bruce, almost causing him to forget to wonder why the world would think she was dead.
"And Natasha?" He murmured, their foreheads touching.
"She's just running with it."
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The next time they run, they're not found for a long time because Natasha's always been far better at that sort of thing.