All Through the Night: A Bruce & Natasha One-Shot
"Hey, Doc," Natasha said with an amused smile as the elevator door opened, "it's nice to see someone pried you out of the lab."
Bruce smiled as soon as he heard her voice and turned in Natasha's direction, feeling relieved to know a friend was here. It wasn't so much that he disliked parties, but he remembered propping up a lot of walls over the years, especially at larger obligatory festivities like the one Tony and Pepper were now holding court over on the ides of December. This was their first time holding a holiday party that included the Avengers, and it looked like most of the people who worked in the tower for Stark Industries and then some had turned up as well. He knew they would all be on display.
Bruce took a deep breath as he steeled his introverted soul for the sensory onslaught he knew was coming. Earlier in the year, he would have been tempted just to go hide in the lab or curl up with a physics journal and a pot of tea, but a lot had happened in almost seven months. It had taken Bruce till June before he'd felt settled enough to take an apartment on the same floor as his lab space, which Tony had set aside for him as soon as he'd agreed to stay for a week. Initially, Bruce only agreed to staying a few days to look things over, but that had turned into one and then two weeks and then three before moving out of the "guest room," which was bigger and full of more amenities than most of the housing he'd occupied in the past decade.
They'd been looking over the 3-D blueprints for expanding what could be Bruce's lab as Tony tempted him like Christ fasting in the dessert—not that Bruce thought himself in the least bit Christ-like, but Tony was much more convincing than a fallen angel. "Face it, Bro, I know where you're coming from. You want to get projects done. You want to give back. You want a real research agenda, and staying here in a stable environment with real resources is the most efficient way possible to accomplish this. Besides, look at all the perks," Tony said with a shrug so casual Bruce could tell it was anything but.
Admittedly, after week two, Bruce knew he wanted to stay in Tony's R&D "Candy Land," but they'd gone back and forth about acceptable safety measures for over a week. "A safe room with tons of reinforced concrete and titanium steel between the Big Guy and the rest of the world if he decides to show up," Tony offered, pulling Bruce out of his negotiating calculations. "We'll work together on a way to contain him if he's out in the world when he shouldn't be. I promise, we'll make this work," the engineer said in a low voice as he dramatically threw down his last chip and opened up the holographic plans for what would eventually become VERONICA. That was what Bruce had wanted, yet not dared to ask for—real help with controlling the Hulk. At that moment, as both men grinned at each other across the glowing holographic display, they both knew Bruce would agree to stay. The physicist hadn't promised anything out loud; in fact, all he'd done was nod and say, "I think I could live with that," and Tony had hugged him to the point of it being uncomfortable. Bruce made another mental note to talk about the touching thing again, but for now, he could live with it. Who knew, maybe he could get used to it?
What Bruce couldn't get used to was the regularity with which Pepper quietly slipped Tony's hand-me-downs into his closet. Granted, a castoff from Tony was normally just one or two wearings past new, but every time Bruce had tried to thank her (or tell her he didn't need more tailored dress shirts), she went into deaf denial mode. She refused to hear him until he changed the subject. As he considered his predicament, Bruce knew his mistake had been accepting the loan of a dark suit to go to Coulson's funeral back in May because Tony's tailor had gotten his measurements when Pepper had insisted on getting the jacket's shoulders let out for him. The returned suit and a rainbow of shirts, ties, and dress slacks had appeared in his new apartment's closet before his boxes from the storage locker in Willowdale, Virginia, had even arrived. The fun part had come when Tony had given him odd looks for almost a week before finally figuring out where he'd seen the shirts before. "Are you raiding my closet, Dr. Banner?"
"No, Pepper has discovered the easiest way to recycle your clothes is to sneak them into my closet. That or there's a wormhole."
"Really? How do you know it's Pep?"
"I asked JARVIS. Right?"
"You did indeed, Dr. Banner. Ms. Potts kept a tailor busy for three days last week. One might surmise there is some connection."
"Has she messed with my t-shirts?"
"No, Sir."
"Then don't look a gift gabardine in the seams, Bruce."
((o))
Tony had been right—where Pepper was concerned, Bruce was always better off just to go with the flow. That's probably why he didn't put up much resistance when the beautifully dressed and quaffed CEO blindsided him as he stepped off the elevator and into the holiday-festooned commons area. He looked helplessly at a bemused Natasha as Pepper brightly waved her off and steered him around the crowded space. The business leader introduced him to several people she thought might be useful for him to know in the biotech field, a couple of governing board members for health-related NGOs, and the final person he was certain was a setup. Pepper had called over a wait-staffer with cups of mulled wine and left Bruce standing there awkwardly offering the woman a cup of the warm spicy drink. Emilee had been lovely and intelligent—she taught French Literature at the university across town. He knew it wasn't a coincidence she had dark hair and pale skin and clear gray eyes; unfortunately, she was getting over a long-term relationship, so the timing wasn't good for starting something new. Even through his lens of social awkwardness, Bruce could detect the rawness of her pain just below the surface. He did a lot of listening and nodding, and they had a nice conversation about Madame Bovary and the light Flaubert's novel shed on modern consumerism, but that had been it. Bruce had seen her down to the ground floor and made sure she was safely in a taxi before making himself go back and dutifully greet the rest of the people he knew—most were from the R&D Lab and had herded together near the hors d'oeuvres, so they weren't difficult to track down.
Tony had needled him for a bit about the professor before Thor had warmed up to teaching everyone Asguardian drinking games. Bruce had been one of the few Avengers to escape without a hangover the next day, mostly because Natasha had handed him a ginger ale on the rocks with a cherry garnish on a little green plastic sword. She'd given him her best theatrical wink just for good measure, so he was a little surprised when he wasn't downing alcohol when everyone was obliged to drink up to Odin.
"Since you didn't go home with the leggy professor, I'm going to surmise that Pepper does not have your type pegged," the red-tressed Agent said as they both leaned on a rail on one of the upper walkways overlooking the gathering. His teammate was absolutely gorgeous in a red and gold silk brocade with some kind of fur or fluff along the neckline. He thought Natasha looked every bit the pale Russian queen. It just reminded him how far out of her league he thought he was.
"I really don't have a type, Natasha," Bruce replied as he returned to staring into the half-empty glass in his hands. "Thanks, for the ginger ale, by the way."
Natasha smiled fondly and tilted her head to acknowledge him. "You're welcome, Doc. Okay, was it something else that didn't click then?"
He nodded his short-cropped graying head, but didn't look up from his hands. "It's hard to get over someone you've been together with for almost a decade. You've made plans. You expect to have a future together. Then something happens and your partner changes. He's not the same person you thought you knew. Things fall apart. It's going to take her a while to move on because everything is so raw. Eventually, she'll be fine, but it's going to take her some time. It's something she'll have to do on her own. I'm the last person she needs around her."
Natasha knew he wasn't just talking about the woman he'd walked down to the taxi. She shifted so she was leaning with her back to the rail in order to better see his face. When he didn't say anymore, she carefully laid her right hand on his right wrist until he looked at her. "It's okay if you want to talk. I'm a pretty good listener."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to go off like that," he said guiltily. "Pepper guessed better than she thought, but not in the way she expected. I can't put that poor woman through the same thing all over again. I'm every bit as bad as her former fiancé."
Natasha knew he wasn't big on casual touching, but she took the chance and laid her hand on his shoulder. When he didn't baulk or shrug away, she casually slipped her hand back down to his right wrist again, and to her surprise, he moved the glass to his left hand and accepted her slipping her fingers into his. He squeezed them gently, fighting his instincts to grasp at her like a lifeline. "Doc, you have the warmest hands," she said.
"I am gamma powered," he murmured with a slight smile, knowing she'd get the silly joke, "but I'm not fit to be with anyone."
"I'll be the judge of that," she told him, slipping her left hand on top of his to take advantage of his body chemistry and warm it up. She wasn't about to let him slip from moping into a darker place. "By the way, what happened to your hair? I've seen boot camp sheerings that are less Spartan. Did Stark cause another lab fire and light you up, too?" That got him to smile for certain.
"No, nothing that dramatic. It was getting in my eyes and I got bored. I've done it before when I lived in the tropics. Don't worry, I've already promised Pepper and Tony I won't do it again."
"Well, New York in mid December is not the tropics. You can add me to the side in favor of your curls."
"I'll do that." He looked over and gave her another smile.
Should she go for three or would it be four? "Also, I have been a hairdresser while on assignment before, so I do know how to give you more than a burr cut the next time you're getting shaggy and bored," she told him.
"Really?" he sounded a bit skeptical, but interested in hearing more. He downed the rest of his drink. She turned his hand loose, so he could set the empty glass down on a nearby tray before he settled back next to her.
"I have cut Clint's hair before when we've been on a mission. He didn't complain, and you know how vane he is about 'the do'." She'd almost said Laura didn't complain either, but she caught herself.
"Where is your cohort? I've not seen him this evening," Bruce said, looking around at some of Clint's favorite spots to roost. He wished he could figure out their exact relationship. When they were together, he couldn't decide if they were lovers, work spouses, or siblings. It didn't help that they enjoyed keeping the rest of the team guessing.
She weighed her casual remarks carefully. "This time of year he has obligations." She couldn't say he had in-laws who expected face time. "You never know. He could turn up." She also couldn't say, a little of Laura's family went a long way.
"Don't you two spend the holidays together?" Bruce asked, obviously a bit curious, but keeping his actual inquiry oblique and politely Midwestern.
Nat grinned at him, and he lifted an eyebrow at her, not backing down. Bruce truly wanted to know. "When I'm not working, we have," she said just as obliquely. Bruce studied her, made up his mind, and then nodded, looking back down at his hands in defeat. She was surprised to see his shoulders actually sag a bit in disappointment. "Well, it's not like we're dating or something," she said, and smiled rather smugly as Bruce looked back up at her quicker than he'd meant to do. "So, what are your holiday plans, Doc?" she quickly asked to get the spotlight off her situation.
It took him an extra beat to process what she'd just said, implied, and asked him all at once. "Oh, Pepper and Tony have asked me to go with them out to Malibu, so I'll probably do that. He has projects he wants my opinion on out there. Why? Do you have plans?"
"Working for the most part, but it's still up in the air," she said noncommittally.
"I'll be back before New Years. If you don't have anything better to do, look me up," he said with all the nonchalance he could muster. "Hap says he'll have me hooked on Downton Abbey, so I may be doing some binge watching."
"I bet you'd like Sherlock better."
"Basil Rathbone?" he asked.
"Well, yes the classics, but the new one with the actor with that awful mouthful of a name."
"Oh, the lab techs all say it's good," Bruce commented.
"All right, text me when you get back in town," she said. "Pizza and binge watching. We'll work something out."
((o))
As it turned out, his trip to California was only for a few days. On Monday Tony had given him a tour of the garage and labs that had ended up with them elbow deep working on the Mark XLII's multiple propulsion systems for most of the afternoon, evening, and into the night. Bruce was sure that had not gone over well with Pepper. The next day was Bruce's birthday (though he didn't mention it), and he and Tony continued to work on the armor. It took a little while, but Bruce could tell Tony was using him and his "projects" as excuses to avoid communicating with Pepper. Bruce knew there were other issues, but Tony was in full-on deflection mode and redirected the conversation every time Bruce tried to steer it toward the invasion or how he felt or why he now had an arsenal in his subbasement. Bruce finally decided that if he couldn't get Tony to open up, he was at least going to quit being a convenient human shield running interference with Pepper.
To avoid a rift, Bruce knew he had to leave with a good excuse. Out of desperation, he had texted Natasha for a legitimate reason to leave, which soon arrived in the form of an urgent request from Fury to come to DC and consult on a case of possible gamma poisoning. As it turned out, the incident was genuine but fairly limited in scope. A SHIELD tech had been helping move inventory at an archive and found a box of 60-year-old "memorabilia" that included an unmarked, thermos-like container. Unfortunately, the silver canister turned out to be "hot" with gamma radiation. Bruce fell back on what he knew, and luckily the exposure was limited enough to respond to the initial anti-radiation serum he'd developed before Ross had recruited him a decade before. It took around-the-clock work, but within a few days, the patient had gone from burnt and comatose to hoping to be sent home by New Years. Afterward, Bruce was too exhausted to follow up on the source of the poisoning, but Fury gave him his word he'd have a full report ASAP. For now, the archive building was shutdown and in the process of being decontaminated.
In the meantime, Tony had gotten himself into deeper and deeper trouble taunting the terrorist calling himself the Mandarin. After Hap was gravely injured, Bruce was ready to fly back out to California to help, but Tony, Pepper, and then Nick told him to stay put. Bruce understood the last thing they needed was him there as a big green wild card, so he finished up with the patient in DC and headed sulkily back to New York. He'd texted Natasha to tell her what was going on, and she'd met him at Tony's New Jersey airstrip since the weather had turned too windy for the quinjet to land at the tower. It irked him when he realized she was probably babysitting him. She'd gotten rather angry with him when he said as much on the drive back to the tower.
"Chyort voz'mi! Bruce, you're over forty—happy birthday, by the way. Fury and Potts both wanted me to check on you, but I didn't have to be here waiting for you unless I wanted to be. For your information, I was already planning on it. Will you please get it through your thick skull that this is what friends do." They were nearing the George Washington Bridge coming into the city, and she was forced to slow the SUV down. It was well after rush hour, but the traffic was still slow because the roads were getting sloppier. This only seemed to make her fume and him brood more as each stared out the windows at the gray winter urban landscape. "If this is some excuse to duck out of our plans to watch Sherlock, you could just say so," she said, sounding disappointed.
"God, no-no! Sorry, I almost forgot, and I was looking forward to it, too," he said as he smacked himself in the forehead. "Natasha, so much has happened in the last few days." He rubbed at the back of his head. "I'm sorry. Can we just hit the reset button on this conversation? I'm just worried sick about Tony and Pepper and Hap. I didn't mean to take it out on you, Nat."
"Good, you should be sorry," she grumbled under her breath, but then she was done with being pissed off and moved on. "You're right. We're all worried about Tony and Pepper. At least Happy seems to be holding his own at this point." They drove on in silence for several blocks. "Look, we're all frustrated, but we're going to have to sit this out on the sidelines till things settle down a bit." Bruce nodded grimly as they pulled into the private parking garage beneath the tower.
"I'd feel better if he'd answer my texts and phone calls," Bruce groused.
"Look, we're talking about the man who just called out a major terrorist and gave him his home address. If he were thinking clearly, Tony would stay off the devices with GPS and leave the house for the weekend."
"He's thinking, but it's certainly not clearly. I doubt he's had a good night's sleep in the past seven months. Kale shakes and caffeine will only keep the ghosts away for so long, and that's what he's doing," Bruce explained.
"Is he talking to anyone about this?"
"You mean a professional? Not that I'm aware. I think he took me to California to avoid talking to Pepper. That's why I texted you to get me out of there."
"He wasn't talking to you?"
"Unless it involved propulsion or weapons systems, he wasn't saying anything, especially if anxiety came up."
Natasha shook her head, "This is why operatives spend time out of the field and are evaluated before they go back after a major dustup. Clint took the whole summer off."
"Well, we aren't all operatives or Agents. I can't imagine Tony submitting himself voluntarily for anything more than a debriefing. I'm not sure he even realizes he has a problem." Natasha had pulled the vehicle into a parking spot and killed the lights and engine. "I'm still hoping Pepper will be able to talk him into some counseling," he concluded.
"You tried, Bruce," she said as she reached over the gearstick and squeezed his hand. "Tony is as headstrong and stubborn as they get. He may just have to bottom out before he's ready for help."
Bruce squeezed her hand back and nodded. "Let's hope it's sooner than later."
"Well, if he's not going to answer you back. How about we give it a rest, get our minds off it, order pizza, and watch some Sherlock?"
"Commons Area?" he asked.
"Sure. I think we may be the only two people on the upper floors. I'll go ahead and get the pizzas ordered. JARVIS says you like to use Giorgio's," she said as she pulled up the restaurant's menu on her phone.
"They have a good Mediterranean or a Veggie Portabella. Tony gets the Carnivore Combo or something like that. Pick what you want and tell them to put it on my account," he said.
"We don't need to order drinks because there are still a bunch left from the party," Natasha reported. They both climbed out of the SUV, and Bruce retrieved his luggage from the back before they headed up in the elevator. She was staying in one of the "guest rooms" a floor below the Commons Area, so Natasha stepped out first. "Go get cleaned up, Doc. We might as well make it a pajama party. See you in thirty or so," she said with a wink as the door closed.
As he entered his darkened apartment, he could see the snow coming down outside the large floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room. He hadn't paid much attention to the weather forecast, but this looked like it was going to accumulate. "JARVIS, what's the weather supposed to be doing?"
"Snowing for the next four to six hours. Accumulation from 12 to 18 inches, Doctor."
"Well, at least it held off till Friday evening."
"That is indeed fortuitous for most people in the Northeastern United States and parts of Canada."
Bruce looked through the accumulated mail someone had dropped off on the foyer table and was surprised to find a card from the Sampsons in West Willowdale, VA. It took him a second to realize it was from Betty and Lee. He hesitated opening it, but took it with him as he dropped off his clothing bag in the laundry room and stepped into the bathroom to take a quick shower. He laid his shave kit out. He had a couple of day's accumulated scruff since he'd been sleeping on a couch in the ICU lounge in DC and had only taken one quick shower there at the hospital.
"JARVIS, have you heard anything from Tony?" He asked as he stripped off his clothes and tossed them across the hall into the laundry room.
"He is in the Malibu residence, but he is not taking calls or texts due to an overwhelming response from the press and other less savory elements."
"Is Pepper there?"
"Yes, she has just arrived home."
Bruce signed with relief, "Good. Maybe now they'll talk."
"One would hope so, Doctor."
"JARVIS, it's okay if you want to call me Bruce. We've worked together long enough now to be less formal."
"If it would please you for me to call you Bruce, I am more than happy to do that."
Bruce lathered his face, "What do you like to be called?"
That took the Interface a moment to process. "JARVIS is quite acceptable. Tony calls me 'J', but I'm named in honor of Edwin Jarvis who worked with Tony's father and ran the household. He provided care for the young master after his parents' deaths, so my name is a sentimental choice."
"That's actually very meaningful," Bruce said between strokes as he used the safety razor. "Don't worry, I won't call you 'Edwin'. I don't want to upset Tony."
"You are named after your grandfather, I presume?"
"Right," Bruce said evenly. "The less said about that the better." He finished with the razor and cleaned up. That left him staring at the envelope from Virginia, which was still waiting on the counter.
"If envelopes are like Band-Aids, I better just open it," he said as he tore the covering off the card. It was a birthday card and a picture fell out and onto his bare foot, so he picked it up and looked at it first. The dark-haired couple was standing in front of an arts and crafts-style bungalow with a wide front porch and a colorful maple tree. Lee was behind Betty, hugging her with both arms, and Betty looked at him with happiness and contentment as she reached back to touch his sharp features with her right hand. Their left hands were clasped over her rather prominent baby bump with rings on full display. They both looked happy and in love. Part of him expected there to be some envy and resentment bubbling up from his gut, but it fizzled as he took in how happy they both looked in the photograph. He knew through his cousin Jenn that the two had gotten married a couple of years ago, so this next step wasn't a big surprise. He opened the card, which had a meadow with wild flowers and a mountain backdrop that looked vaguely familiar to him. The back had information identifying it as being in Great Smokey Mountains National Park. Inside was the printed tritely sweet verse telling him to have a happy birthday. On the opposite side she'd written:
Dearest Bruce,
I hope this reaches you in time for your Birthday. The news outlets say you're living in the Stark Industries Tower, so I looked up the address. Just wanted to let you know Lee and I both have tenure at Culver now. We're still in the same house as when you were last here. The big news is we're expecting a little girl next February.
I think about you and hope you've found peace with yourself. Have the best of birthdays and write back when you're not too busy.
Always,
Betty (and Lee)
He smiled and stood the card up against the back of the counter. Relief was what he felt more than anything: no anger to act out, no need to beat himself up over any of it. He stepped into the shower and washed some of the worries he'd been carrying for so long away with the last of the hospital stink.
As he stepped out of the shower and toweled off, a thought occurred to him. If he were going to move on, there were certain questions that had to be answered first. He touched the large bathroom mirror in front of him. Not finding what he was looking for, he turned his attention to the full-length mirror mounted to the wall on his right. The fog from the shower didn't really settle on it the way it did on the mirror behind the vanity. As he pressed his hand to its center, he could just pick up a humming vibration. Most of the surface was warmer than the wall behind it. Except for the frame, the mirror was nearly flush with the wall, so whatever was behind it could take up the space between the drywall and framing. The bedroom closet was on the other side of the wall, but he really didn't feel like tearing into it. "JARVIS, what types of scanners are behind the mirror?"
"Standard health and fitness readings for heart rate, temperature, and blood pressure."
"That's good to know. What else?"
"A standard array of radiation detectors."
"Okay, I take it those are custom features?"
"Yes, Mr. Stark thought you might appreciate them."
"I certainly do, JARVIS," he said thoughtfully. "Who has access to the data?"
"This device cannot be accessed without your permission and the data is stored there unless you choose to connect to the network or download it to a device."
"All right, go ahead and do a baseline scan. I'm interested in the radiation readings in particular."
"Standard readings are normal except your temperature is a half degree Fahrenheit above normal."
"I expected that."
"Noted. Gamma-ray spectrometer is reading above background or ambient levels, but below minimal risk standards."
"Huh, make a note to check the calibrations. I've not been that low in . . . in a long time."
"Recalibration finished. Rescanning you . . . The results are the same."
"Holmes would say, 'When you have excluded the impossible whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth'. Wow, it does seem too good to believe though."
"Might I suggest you use one of the spectrometers in the labs, Bruce?"
"Put that on the to-do list for tomorrow. I'm going to be late for pizza and a show with Ms. Romanoff."
"That isn't code for 'Netflix and chill' is it?"
"No. We're not planning on that. Well, at least I wasn't, but I . . . I have no idea what we're doing."
"Well, you two are alone in the upper floors for the evening. Tony's code is 'Privacy Level 11'. I'll go ahead and black out the windows and apply sound baffling. Miss Romanoff has her own security and privacy protocols in place already."
Bruce laughed quietly to himself. "She did call it a pajama party, but I think that's just to have an excuse to wear something comfortable."
"You might say that," JARVIS remarked almost smugly.
Bruce brushed his teeth and quickly put on toiletries before he searched through his bureau drawers until he found the one unworn set of fleece "lounge wear" and matching slippers he owned. They were green and purple with 'Hulk Smash' printed on them. Tony had presented him with the prototypes, which were quite large, before they showed up as merchandise in the tower's gift store. Thank God, there was a drawstring on the pants because they were almost Hulk Large and required rolling the bottom hems. His hair was still too short to do anything about, but there were no longer dark, tired circles under his eyes. He grabbed his phone and headed to the commons area. He took the stairs since it looked like the elevator was headed down to the lobby, probably Natasha retrieving the pizza delivery.
She wasn't in the commons area, but everything looked set up and ready to go for the viewing. He couldn't help but grin when he saw she'd set out a ginger beer in an insulated cover for him. He pressed his lips together as he paused to consider all the small but thoughtful things she'd done for him from the drink at the party to watching over him every time as he came down from a Code Green. She pushed working with the Hulk more than he liked, but she had been smart and skilled while dealing with the Big Guy on the tapes he'd seen. Bruce checked his phone to see if he'd missed anything from Tony, which he hadn't, so he put it on vibrate and slid it into his pocket . . . then took it out and silenced it. He hoped that his instincts weren't completely atrophied because he didn't want to ruin a friendship or look like a complete fool. The elevator soon pinged and he held the door for Natasha as she stepped out carrying two boxes. She was in a bright pink nightshirt, leggings, and bunny slippers. He was sure none of the staff in the lobby had said anything, so he wasn't about to either. "Sorry, I took so long," he said. "Found out my bathroom mirror has a scanner array I suspected might be there, so I had to check it out."
She looked at him quite seriously, "Good grief, Doc. Is Tony watching you?"
"It's a closed data loop, so no, I'm pretty sure that's not the case."
"Still sounds creepy to me."
"It's like a non-portable health app on steroids. I'm going to have to get a second reading on the gamma-ray spectrometer in the labs for comparison because it was reading so much lower than the last time I scanned."
She set the boxes down on the coffee table in front of the big central couch. "When was your last scan?"
"Uh, three years ago. It was borderline acceptable," he said as he sat down.
"Well, I don't think it's a problem if I tell you that back in May you were elevated, but well within the acceptable range for contact when you were aboard the Helicarrier. You weren't much above that before I contacted you in Kolkata," she said with a sheepish smile.
Bruce rolled his eyes. He really wasn't surprised SHIELD had been taking radiation readings on him. They might not have sent her in if he'd been "hot" as well as just his normal sort of dangerous. "How about for the Big Guy?"
"He tends to spike and then settle after the transition, but it spikes again if he's irritated." She wasn't sure when she'd manage it, but the next time she had access to central data storage at SHIELD's main headquarters, she might have to see about arranging some omissions from his file. She had heard from friends on the inside there were "issues" with data leaks, and Fury had told her to keep her ears and eyes open. She wasn't officially assigned to tailing Bruce anymore, but everyone understood she was his unofficial handler and she acted as a buffer between him and the Big Guy.
Bruce nodded. "So you're not going to guess how low the magic mirror is reading?"
She made a face as she thought, "Low acceptable?"
"Above background, but below acceptable risk," he said, watching her reaction. She normally had an unfathomable poker face, but that surprise got an unguarded look from her.
"My, you're almost a mere mortal, Doc." That was an unexpected boon that she'd been hoping to see on the horizon; in fact, this opened up all sorts of possibilities even sooner than her best estimates. "Come on, the pizza is getting cold," she said as she handed him his box.
He uncapped his ginger beer and took a drink before he opened the box. She'd gotten him the one with the mushrooms. They both dug in, but he couldn't figure out what Natasha had ordered. "What did you get?" he asked between bites after his second piece.
"Pierogi with bacon, cheese, and onions," she said.
"Hmm, I've had pierogies before, but never on a pizza." He remembered the potato and cheese dumplings from his Eastern European travels, but this was a fusion of elements he'd not thought of together before.
"As big of a carb fiend as you are after a code green, you might want to consider this. Trade me a slice and see."
"Pick one," he said as he scooted the box to her. She deftly swapped pieces without losing any toppings.
"Okay," he admitted after taking a bite, "I think my butt just got bigger with one mouthful, but it is sort of a comfort food on a crust."
She snickered, "It's not like you're going to run out of room in these PJ bottoms." She quickly made a grab to pinch his thigh and he almost got her by the wrist.
"Ouch, you are mean," he teased. "First you feed me then you want to bruise the merchandise."
"Yah, just wait till I get you liquored up, Doc. Then I'm going to have my way with you." She rolled her eyes but she watched him for a reaction. He didn't seem shocked by her suggestion; in fact, he seemed to have finally realized she was interested.
Bruce picked up his drink and saluted her before he took a swallow. He noted she was drinking diet soda. Hell, maybe that was her plan. "I'm tired enough, it won't take much to loosen me up for a little while. Never lasts that long though, so you better move fast."
Natasha leaned back and sipped at her drink. "Well, you're already in a better mood."
"Yah, I got a letter that brought some welcome closure." She gave him a nod before she took another sip of her cola. "Remember what I was saying about Emilee at the party the other night? In a way that's what I did to Elizabeth Ross. I knew I was too dangerous to be around her, but I wasn't sure if she'd moved on. To be honest, I wasn't sure if I'd let go of the past either."
"So she sent you a letter?" Natasha asked.
"Well, it was a short one on the inside of a card. She knew I was here at the tower, so she sent it along with a picture. I'd heard she gotten married, but I wanted to know she was happy. She is. They're expecting a baby girl in March."
Natasha set down her drink and reached over and took his right hand in hers. Bruce immediately grasped her fingers. "So how do you feel about this?" she asked.
"I thought I might feel upset or angry, but I don't. I'm relieved." He smiled and shook his head, "I thought I'd feel jealous, but honestly, I'm happy for her. It's like I can finally let myself off the hook. I didn't ruin her life."
"You are way too hard on yourself," she said as she stroked small circles in the palm of his hand with her thumb.
"No, it's okay," he said. "I know now I'm ready to move on."
She'd been waiting and hoping for months to hear him say as much. She moved the pizza box off her lap and onto the table before turning to better face him. He'd cleared his box and drink away, too, and was staring at her with his dark eyes. "The show can wait till tomorrow. We're snowed in here just the two of us."
"What do you want, Natasha?" his voice was suddenly low and silky. She could feel parts of her both tighten and melt. She swallowed hard.
"I want to know you better. I want to rush headlong into something with you, but we can't afford to be reckless."
He reached out and stroked the side of her face with his fingers. "We can take our time, Natasha. There are a lot of complications to work through."
"We'll keep things quiet. No one needs to know except us," she said.
He continued to stroke her face and hair. He realized he'd wanted to touch it for months now, maybe since they'd first met. "Please understand, I'm not just here to play, Nat. I want this to lead to something lasting with you." There it was, one of his few conditions.
"I want that, too. I need time to get things disentangled from work. I need to make up my mind whom I'm even working for."
"I'm going to have to make sure I'm safe and not toxic to you because I don't want to harm you now or over time. I want to make you happy and keep you safe."
"I feel the same way, Bruce." With that, she leaned in for a kiss and he followed suit, gently brushing his lips along her right cheek and then her left before meeting her amused, smiling lips. He continued to tease her with quick light kisses before she reached behind his neck and held him close. Then they kissed in earnest. This was what she'd longed for, his lips both strong and as insistent as hers, but also gentle and playful as well. Before she realized it, he'd wrapped his arms around her and pulled her over on top of him. She laughed and he did, too. She straddled his hips, and he slipped his hands under her oversized nightshirt, which she pulled off over her head and let fall behind her. He had seen most of her before since he'd dressed her wounds and sewn her up more than once, but she expected him to gasp at her collection of scars. Instead, he half moaned, half purred with pleasure as he touched them with his thumbs and fingertips. "I want you to tell me where you earned each of these."
"We'll be here all night," she objected with a laugh.
"All right, just this one then," he said as he traced a pale, ragged scar about three inches long across her ribs just under her right breast.
"Helsinki. HYDRA sleeper tried to carve me with a butcher knife. He didn't get a second swipe." Bruce leaned forward and kissed her scar and then gently licked it as if he could taste the memories through her skin. "Bozhe moi, you're going to drive me crazy with that tongue."
"I will if you'll let me," he said in that sonorous tone and pulled her forward so he could touch and tease her breasts. She hooked her left arm over the back of the couch, and he cupped one breast in each hand, kneading them. He flicked the tips of her nipples with his tongue until they stood tight and erect then took them one at a time in his warm mouth and gently sucked them until they relaxed before repeating the process. She writhed and moaned, "Oh, Bruce, don't stop!"
He reached down between her legs and gently rubbed her crotch through her clothing. She was most definitely getting damp. "Take your pants off," he told her, and she lay on his chest and squirmed out of her clothes. Bruce pulled her up and repositioned her so her warm fragrant cunt was above his mouth. "Try not to suffocate me," he joked. Natasha simply smiled down at him. He massaged her glutes and guided her to him. He used one hand to separate her nether lips with their silky red-gold hair and he licked her clit, which made her jump in response as he swirled his tongue. He turned his head and kissed the dark pink folds of her flesh, darting his tongue in deeper as they found a rhythm rocking her hips and nuzzling her opening with his mouth and chin. She clawed at his scalp, wanting to take him deeper. He reached from underneath and slipped in one finger and then two to penetrate her.
"Oh, fuck me. Yes, fuck me," she breathlessly chanted and then cried out his name as she came. He turned his head and braced against her thigh and ran his free hand up her back to support her as she shuddered through her climax. Natasha soon climbed off him and flopped next to him on the couch. She scooted closer until his head was in her lap. "Where have you been keeping this hidden talent? You've wrecked me."
Bruce chuckled, "Hidden in plain sight I suppose."
She leaned down and kissed him, "How are you doing, Lover?"
"Kind of in need," he said, squirming a bit uncomfortably. The prominent bulge in his pants was the obvious reason.
"Take those silly pajamas off." Bruce rolled back up to sitting and took the pullover top off, wiping his face with it and tossing the shirt to the end of the couch with her clothing. He stood up and untied the drawstring. Natasha had scooted over so she was in front of him. She slowly pulled down his pants and boxers, kissing his stomach as more skin and the line of dark hair were revealed. He groaned as she finally freed his hard cock. She'd intended to suck and tease him a bit, but he stopped her, worried about the radiation exposure. "I have condoms in my room," he said.
"I can come up with one closer," she said as she stretched over and pulled a packet out of a pocket in her pajamas. "I knew you were big, so I think I guessed right." She opened the packet and unrolled the condom down his swollen shaft.
"I may not last that long. Sorry, it's been a while," he confessed.
"It's okay, we have all week to get you back in shape," she said wickedly.
He chewed his lower lip and fought back a smile. "So we may have to put in a lot of practice to get this right?"
"Well, it takes what it takes," she said with a theatrical shrug. "Now, how do you want to do this?"
"How high is the countertop?" he asked, looking into the kitchen area.
"The lower section should be perfect," she said. He took her hands and pulled her up to standing. She wrapped her arms around his neck, touching him and rubbing against him—bare skin on bare skin. He pulled her close, lifting her by the waist until she wrapped her legs around him. "Sometimes I forget how strong you are," she said in his ear.
"I guess I'll have to show you." He'd walked them around the couch and over to the low end of the counter, which was indeed the perfect height. He set her down on the surface and they kissed till he briefly pulled back. "Just a moment. I almost forgot. JARVIS, could you dim the lights?" he requested of the Interface. As the lights went down, they could see the snow falling across the city. They both took in the beauty of the scene for a few moments, but their urges and needs soon took back over as they touched and kissed.
"Bruce, I want you inside me," she spoke raggedly in his ear as he gnawed gently at the base of her neck.
"All right, I'm going to fuck you. Do you like it good and hard, Natasha?"
"As hard as you can give it."
He was still very ready to take up that challenge. He stroked himself and rubbed the head of his cock against her opening until she started to whimper for him. He thrust into her and she threw her head back. "Yes! Bruce! Yes!" She hugged him tighter and dug into his back with her fingernails. He growled and grasped her hips, finding a rhythm as he drove into her. "I'm going to have to come."
"Yes, scream for me, Bruce. Be as loud as you want," she urged.
He threw back his head and his voice deepened, "Natasha! Mine! Mine!" Bruce came with a rush he couldn't stop. It felt so good. He could feel Natasha come with a sob, and he hugged her close.
"You're mine," she said quietly, running her hands up and down his back.
"I'm happy to be yours," he told her, stroking her red hair contentedly. "JARVIS, please play 'All Through the Night', the one on my Christmas instrumental playlist." He bit his lips for a moment, not sure what she'd think about the folksong. He just wanted to hear it with her and watch the snow fall. "Now, don't fall asleep or I'll end up singing, my dearest Natasha."
She cuddled closer. "The tune is really lovely. I want to hear you sing."
"I only know the middle verse."
"Go ahead then." He swallowed and waited for the right measure.
Though I roam a minstrel lonely
All through the night
My true harp shall praise sing only
All through the night
Love's young dream, alas, is over
Yet my strains of love shall hover
Near the presence of my lover
All through the night
His pleasant tenor echoed through the large room. "I think I like this better than the Cyndi Lauper song," she said once it was done.
"It's a good song, too." He hesitated then went ahead and asked, "Natasha, would you come share my bed with me? Tony insisted on putting in a king-size bed, so there's plenty of room."
"Well, that beats a full. Can you stand my snoring?"
"Who said I was going to let you sleep?"
She giggled, "Well, who could turn an offer like that down?"
They were alone together for the rest of the weekend and watched in horror as the Malibu Mansion was destroyed and the rest of the drama played out on the national stage. Neither of them could do much to help from a distance, but Bruce refused to believe Tony was dead unless there was a body. He wanted to leave for California immediately, but Natasha convinced him to wait until she acquired footage of the attack and confirmed an armor had escaped. It took another hour of arguing and cajoling to persuade Bruce to sit tight and trust that Tony knew what he was doing by staying hidden. She finally put Bruce to work going over data with her and figuring out Aldrich Killian's ties to terrorist groups and finally connecting the dots to the Vice President just as the Battle took place on the Norco. It wasn't a fun way to spend Christmas, but Tony finally texted Bruce back to let him know he and Pepper were okay. Natasha turned their work over to Nick who forwarded it to the proper authorities. The VP did not have a happy new year.
They occupied the rest of their time with each other. On their last day of being alone together, they lay in bed enjoying what might be their last quiet morning for a while. Tony and Pepper were due back at noon, so they'd spent the evening erasing or covering up evidence of their activities. (Bruce used a container of disinfectant wipes on the Commons Area alone.) Natasha traced her finger down his chest, playing with the hair. "It wouldn't bother me if we went public," he said, "but I understand why you want to wait."
"I don't think it will be long. Something is going to happen between now and the spring. I'm just really bummed that I'm assigned to DC for six months. I wish you would come."
"And how suspicious would that look?" he said.
"I know. We'll have some weekends. If I can't come here, maybe you can meet me halfway?" He smiled and raised an eyebrow at that. "We'll have missions together. No one thinks it's unusual when you fall asleep on me after a Hulk out. Who knows, all sorts of things can happen under a blanket, right?" Natasha teased.
Bruce snorted. "I'll take your word for it." He leaned forward and kissed the top of her head. "I'm going to miss waking up to you."
"You know I feel the same, Bruce." Natasha stroked the rough stubble along his jaw. "Trust me, Lover. We're going to get through this. We're both made of broken parts, but we're going to make a stronger whole. Just give it a little time."
((o))
As it turned out, it wasn't that difficult for Natasha to come and go from his apartment without being detected. They'd been up most of the night before, thoroughly enjoying each other after a few days apart, when Tony cornered Bruce to tell him what had happened. Natasha had constructed a fairly detailed timeline, so he already knew the high points. The chairs in the R&D lounge were pretty comfortable, so he was out less than two minutes into the narrative. Bruce felt bad about "actively napping" for most of the story, but he couldn't explain why he was so physically wrecked. He sat stoically through the whole thing a second time and daydreamed about Natasha and what they might do together later all through the night.
Notes: If you enjoyed this and haven't read my much, much larger Bruce x Natasha series Special Needs: A Bruce & Natasha FanFic, come join the fun! There are also two other smaller fluffier works as well, so please check them out.
This story does not entirely fit within Special Needs because it answers the question, What if Bruce and Natasha's relationship had started before Age of Ultron, but they kept it a secret? I've done my best to stay true to the versions of Bruce, Nat, Tony, Pepper, and JARVIS I know. All character are owned by Marvel. No harm intended.
Comments, feedback, reviews, favorites, and conversation are always welcome!