Author's Note – This one was tough to write due to figuring out the Bruce/Hulk thing. I hope you like.

Favored by Pestilence

Betty hummed quietly as she drifted through Bruce's apartment. She had access at any time, but the silly man still felt skittish about them sharing a place. Her quiet footsteps eventually brought her to the bedroom door where she stopped, swaying gently as she considered her course of action.

She had returned to her bedroom after the meeting with her sisters, but when she felt Darcy claim her consorts, Betty decided it would be good night to visit Bruce. Only a lightweight robe covered her – the sheer carnal power of Death and her Knights bonding set her skin on fire. Then Famine's bond with her chosen stole her breath as she moved towards her favored ones. The two bondings combined to make even this robe seem too confining. Still…she made the concession to modesty. There was no reason to start shocking the rest of the household quite yet.

Now, as she stood looking at the gentle face of her chosen, she gave in to her body's demands and let the robe slip away from her. It pooled at her feet. There she stopped. Unlike her sisters, she had no assurance of her acceptance.

Oh, she knew Bruce loved her – Hulk did too. That did not mean he would welcome her into his bed. Bruce feared hurting her; feared Hulk would erupt out during sex and possibly killing her. She knew better. Hulk would never do that. He was pure emotion, an emotional wisdom Bruce couldn't always manage. Bruce wielded the weapons of intellect, wit and sarcasm as a shield against the cruelties of the world while Hulk raged and destroyed what cruelty he could find.

She stepped forward, her heart yearning, but then she checked herself, pulling back in fear of rejection. Forth and back, back and forth…she could not get both sides of her mind to agree. Her situation was so different from her sisters'. What if Bruce refused? What if he told her no?

"You're dithering," Darcy's voice touched her, impatient with her indecisiveness.

"It is different," she insisted silently. "Both of your chosen are their own person – body, mind, and soul."

"And yours are not?" her sister pointed out bluntly. "They each have their own mind and body…I would have to examine their soul or souls to speak of that, but they are still their own beings. They simply share space, trading as necessary."

Betty sighed. "Yours like each other."

"You are grasping at straws now." Darcy's light laugh seemed to echo in the room and Bruce shifted. "Stop questioning so much, Pestilence. I know this is your forte, this instability of the mind, but focus and answer me this - do you choose him?"

Betty drew in a deep breath. "Yes."

"Do you choose them?"

"Yes."

"Then do what few in his life have ever done - offer him…offer them the choice." Darcy ordered. "If he tells you no, then we will make a better choice, but at the very least you owe him the courtesy of having the courage to ask."

As her sister's voice faded away, Betty squared her shoulders and slowly made her way toward the bedside. She made no attempt at silence and the brush of her feet over his carpet woke him as she knew it would. Hulk made a wonderful guardian in that way. Little escaped his notice.

Bruce blinked and looked around. His eyes widened as he spotted her drawing near. "Betty? Are you…?" His voice trailed off as his gaze swept over her.

A smile of mischief hovered near the corners of her lips as she reached out a finger to tap against his chin. "I wanted to come and see you."

"Please tell me you didn't come down the hall that way?"

"You're kind of cute when you frown," she replied, biting back a smile. He opened his mouth to speak and she laughed. "Don't worry so much," she told him. "I wore a robe. It's by the door."

"Betty, what are you-?"

His voice cut off as she climbed into the bed and stretched herself over the length of him. She folded her arms over his chest and leaned into him. "I'm here to claim you," she said simply.

A quick flash of desire crossed his face followed by a dark hint of despair. "We can't."

"We can," she insisted. "And we will."

"The Other Guy-," he started.

She rolled her eyes. "Hulk can share." A look of something akin to horror came over his face and she shook her head. "Vicariously, Bruce. He'll feel it through you."

"We'd never convince him-."

"I will," she told him with a smile. A green glaze seemed to slip over his eyes and she touched a finger to his lips, tracing them with a feather-light touch. "Shh," she whispered. Her power reached through Bruce to touch Hulk. "You must feel it through him. I know it's hard, but it's the only way." His eyes flashed green and then faded back to Bruce's beautiful dark brown. Only now, she could see a rim of vivid green along the edge of his irises. Her smile grew. "Perfect."

"Betty," Bruce's voice held a light protest, soft but there.

"Trust me, Bruce," Betty pleaded. "I know you're scared, but please, please trust me as I trust you."

The note in her voice took the victory. She saw the surrender in his eyes even as one work-callused hand reached up to cup her cheek. "I trust you," he sighed.

She leaned down. Her mouth moved over his, soft and inviting, promising a paradise she knew he never let himself consider. She brushed her lips over his eyelids and his cheeks before returning once more to his mouth. Her hair fell in a curtain around them, shutting out the outside world as she pulled back to meet his gaze. "I love you, Bruce."

"I love you too," he replied. Green fire flashed through the brown once more as Hulk offered his own particular brand of assurance.

"I'm going to take care of you," she whispered. She dipped her head down to brush her cheek against his. "No one will ever hurt you again…and you will never, ever walk alone. Not again. Not ever again."

"Betty-."

She fused her mouth to his, swallowing the last of his half-formed denial. "Tell me you believe me," she demanded when she released him. "Promise me you trust me." Her eyes flashed at him, a knot of emotion twisting in her chest. "Accept my heart as I accept yours."

His eyes widened, darkening as she spoke. "I don't deserve you," he replied, his voice calm and serious as only Bruce could manage, but with a depth and resonance more in Hulk's range. She opened her mouth to protest, but this time it was him who stopped her with a finger on her lips. "I don't," he insisted, "but I will cherish any part of your heart you share with me." His hand moved to the side of her head as his thumb brushed her cheek. "And there is no one, no one on this earth I trust more than you."

The heavy knot in her chest seemed to simply vanish. Euphoria flooded her veins and she rained kisses over his face. His hands curved around her hips as her mouth moved to capture his once more. They tightened to a bruising intensity as she unleashed her powers. His mind bent underneath the onslaught…it tore at his control, ripping through every precaution he had created. The body beneath her tried to shift.

Two streams of power cascaded through her at the moment, using her as a conduit to reach Bruce and Hulk. They snatched at their braided lifeline and began to unravel it. She wanted to protest, but Darcy's silent admonishment kept her quiet. The lines separated and stretched…she could almost see Bruce's life begin to shatter without Hulk's to strengthen it. Her fear spiked, but then Bruce's lifeline curved around hers and Hulk's followed. The two lines braided around hers and then their barriers weakened, faded…vanished.

Betty pulled her mouth free and tossed her head back, a sharp cry of elation echoing through the room as everything poured into her. Hulk's rage and need to protect erupted in her veins as Bruce's dedication and desire to help flooded her mind. Later she would ask what they got from her, but for now her body…his body…their body wanted fulfillment. It demanded the seal of the flesh. She…he…they surrendered. The other two powers, one she recognized as her sister, pulled away, leaving them to their night.

They feasted on each other. There was no other word for it. Betty would never remember exactly what happened, but she could describe emotions – pure, raw lust; fierce passion; overwhelming love. All of it poured through them, erasing barriers and creating a world all their own. Passion roared around them in swirls and eddies. Nothing existed but the three of them in this private haven all their own. At one point she remembered looking down into Bruce's face to see them looking back at her, one brown eye and one green staring from a hard face carved in the granite of lust, but glowing with the purity of love.

In too short, but also too long a time, as the sound of their mingled voices faded, she collapsed against his chest. Bruce dragged air into his lungs, but she shifted and his voice failed, falling into a light hiss. She nuzzled the underside of his jaw before tucking her head under his chin. "Sleep, sleep," she said in a gentle, sing-song sort of voice. "For now we will sleep and in the light we will talk."

His hands stroked along her back. "Alright," he agreed in that husky voice thick with exhaustion. "First sleep and then we talk."

"Mm, hmm," she hummed. She listened as his heartbeat slowed down, finally falling into a sleeping rhythm. Only after he slept did she allow herself to drowse and drift. "Mine," she whispered to herself. "Both mine now."