The knock on the door is not unexpected. The face on the other side is. It's my face.
"Hello."
I freeze. She enters the room and throws a pile of hundreds on the bed. "That's for your time. I ran into your next client as he was entering the building. I told him to reschedule." Okay… So if she's paying for my time, she probably isn't going to kill me, pleasedon'tkillmepleasedon'tkillmepleasedon'tkillme.
"I'm not going to kill you."
"That's good to know." I let the relief show in my voice.
Without warning she steps forward and takes my face in her hand and tilts it in each direction. "Interesting, not a perfect match, but close." She takes my breast in one hand with scientific detachment. "Breasts too small, eyes the wrong shade of green but that's easily changed, unfortunately you're too tall, and that's not an easy fix." She makes a disappointed sound. "It's probably for the best, Otherwise I'd recruit you to be my stand-in when I need to be in two places at once."
Less than one minute in this woman's presence and I see why everyone is so fucking terrified of her.
"Did you find out from Coulson?" He's the one who originally found me, hired me, had me dye my hair and be on call so her partner had an outlet for his less that professional feelings towards this woman.
"Coulson's dead." Something that might almost be mistaken for an emotion flickers behind her eyes.
"Did you do it?"
She almost smiles. "No, but may have visited his grave with some strong words and stronger vodka yesterday."
"How is he?"
Her eyebrow arches. "He's still dead."
I shake my head in frustration, I'm glad I've gone back to blonde again. Otherwise it's too much like looking in a mirror. "Not Coulson… HIM." I'm afraid to say his name in front of her. "The last time he was here, before he stopped… booking appointments… He wasn't in good shape."
The welts he left on my skin are still raw. His anger towards her taken out on my flesh. I was quite literally her whipping boy. The rage on his face as he brought that belt down over and over again, demanding his partner tell him she's sorry… To tell him she loves him. It still makes me shudder just thinking about it.
An oath muttered in a language I don't understand and a horrified look tells me she understands exactly what happened. "I'm sorry. Are you okay?"
"I'll heal." I laugh and it's a little more bitter than I meant it to be. "All part of the job."
"May I see?" Raising the lose material of my shirt over my back, she hisses as the bruises and welts come into view. "God damn you, Clint Barton." Her voice is thick with emotion. "Let me fix this. These… these were mine to take, not yours, and I'm sorry."
"What happened that night?"
She is silent for a moment, at first I think she's decided to ignore the question.
"You don't the security clearance to hear this. It's not a pretty story, but you've bled for it, and I think that means you've earned the right to hear it. It starts with a bad man who lived in Russia many years ago, one who became obsessed with developing child super soldiers based on using the Hulk's blood. And a recent Avenger's mission with some seriously crap intel…"
Her head feels thick from the knock-out gas they shot through the air shafts. She manages to pull her head up to see Clint and Bruce still unconscious and bound with metal cables across the room, flexing her arms she finds she is securely bound by high tech restraints on either side of a chair.
"Widow, are you there?" Steve's sharp voice in her ear pulls her fully into reality.
"Barely, Cap. What's your ETA?"
"Our intelligence was 18 levels of wrong. They've got KIDS here, in approximately a dozen large holding areas." His voice is hard with rage. "Tony's managed to hack the computer to open the cages on successive 3 minute timers, but it takes both of us to force the doors open. Can you hold out for a bit?"
They both know this place is going to blow sky high in less than an hour. "Get them out Cap, then get your asses over here and get us, we'll be fine till then." She really, really hopes so. She starts flexing her hands against the restraints, but they don't budge. This is military grade hardware.
The door wooshes open behind her.
"Hello, my dear girl."
She doesn't need to turn to identify that voice. It still haunts her worst nightmares. "Ivan."
"Good to see the serum is still going strong in your veins, my lovely protégé. Your recovery time is much better than I'd expected, and far exceeds that of your team mates." One large wrinkled finger caresses her cheek as he steps into view. "We've missed you, Natalia."
She manages to repress a shutter of revulsion, but only from years of training, and even then, just barely.
"We'll be leaving together soon, you and I, but first… You'll have to be punished for your crimes against our mother Russia before I can take you home." He gestures to the two bound unconscious men. "Punished using the right tools for the job, your former colleagues." He produces a large syringe full of a substance so bright red it seems to be glowing. He smiles at it, enraptured. "This, my darling, is a substance so brilliant it's beautiful…"
She rolls her eyes, Ivan always did have a flair for the melodramatic.
"Too bad I only have one dose left. I wanted terribly to use it on both of them. It's rage, you see. Pure rage. Undiluted anger…" He brings it to his nose as though sniffing a particularly heady glass of wine. "But more than that, every batch is slightly different. This beauty has been shown to produce, heady notes of jealousy, betrayal, a hint of passion and an overwhelming essence of lust."
Bile hits the back of her throat as she realizes his intention. He leans over Bruce's chair and caresses his cheek with the needle's point.
"I've already injected your Doctor Banner with a very special sedative – I'm most curious to see if the hulk can break through it with the right… push."
She starts to breathe again as he backs away, then feels her heart constrict as he turns to Clint.
"Or we could give it to your partner here… There's a chance this dose might kill a human, but you'd have a better chance of surviving the encounter."
Looking between the two men, she's faced with a horrible decision. She wants to run, she wants to call Cap and get out of here now… But no, no more red, especially not the blood of more innocents on her hands.
Agent Romanov pulls back from the narrative for a moment, removing salve, tape and bandages from her jacket. "Living at the tower is like living with a bunch of over-muscled teenagers. Combine a circus carnie, demi-god, USO poster boy and a megalomaniacal billionaire playboy, and it's pure chaos."
She pulls a piece of tape then tears it to the correct length with her teeth. When you screw an assassin's friend and partner on the company dime, having her show up to play doctor is surreal.
"Bruce Banner and I, we're the quiet ones. He is a close confidant, one of the few people besides Clint that I would call a friend. But as much as I like Bruce – I am terrified beyond logical thought of the Hulk. There is no bargaining with the beast, no reason, only want. My nightmares usually involve a significant amount of green. But returning to what happened…"
She is forced to choose between her worst fear, the Hulk.
Or Clint's worst fear, hurting his partner while under someone else's control. Even if the serum didn't kill him, she doesn't think he would be able to handle the memory of what he'd done. He barely made it through the memory of what he ALMOST did to her under Loki's control.
When she thinks about it that way, it's pretty damn easy choice.
"Give it to Banner."
She only hopes Clint will remain unconscious till help arrives.
Ivan makes a disappointed sound. "You've gone soft, my pet, choosing your partner over your sense of self preservation… but I will honor your choice." He shoves Barton's chair to the side of the room and places the needle in Banner's arm. Bruce's head jerks up as the needle finds its mark.
"Good luck." Ivan plucks the com-link from her ear. And she's secretly glad he's taken away her ability to ask for help. It's easy to say you wouldn't ask innocents to die for you when your worst fear is unconscious and human, but if the hulk appears, she unsure of her ability to be as heroic. He quickly unknots the cords holding Bruce and disappears behind a locked security door, watching from the extra thick glass enclosure above. "Play nice, children." He presses a button and the restraints holding her release. "Hope you made the right choice."
Banner is struggling to get free. "Natasha, what's happening?" He looks around, confused.
"Stay calm." She goes over and kneels in front of his chair taking his head between her hands. She wants him staying seated as long as possible. "You've been injected with a sedative, but also with a serum which incites rage." His eyes widen with understanding. "They want to see if the hulk can break through. To see which set of drugs is stronger."
"Where are the others?"
"Clint is out of commission, they sedated him as well."
Bruce looks to his team mate, but instead of seeing empathy, she see annoyance. "Shit, he's going to be useless getting out of here."
She recoils at the tone. This only seems to incite him. "Defending your precious partner again. Why can't you see..." He shakes his head again. "This anger, I can't focus, I should be trying to get us out of here… but I'm distracted…"
"Please Bruce, calm down, focus. Breathe with me."
"You distract me, that's not new."
It is to her.
"But this rage focuses me on HIM as well, that's different… knows you belong to him. Jealous." He's talking to himself more than to her. That brilliant brain comes to the logical conclusion she was hoping to avoid. "Natasha… This… This stuff, it's not just inciting anger, is it?"
"No, I'm afraid not."
He lets out a terrified sigh. "I'm sorry, Natasha." He looks at her, and swallows with difficulty. "I want… I want." He takes her face in his hands and draws her up into his lap. "I want you… But you need to know, I have… even before, this."
A part of her has always been attracted to him as well. "Hey Doc, I like you too. Let's work with that, okay? Help me, Bruce. Help me focus the anger on me, on sex, don't focus on Barton, or you'll hurt him."
He nods with a sad, apologetic smile. "I want to kiss you. Please." She nods and his lips press against hers, it's gentle, so gentle at first. Exactly like Bruce Banner. She's glad they are allowed this one kiss together. It's over too soon. His head snaps back, and she sees his brown eyes start to flash with red.
His kiss becomes more frantic his hands curl around her upper arms, biting into the flesh as he pulls her to him. "I want to taste you." He deepens the kiss becoming more demanding. His eyes darken "I want to fuck you." Muscles ripple beneath his shirt. "I want to hurt you."
Fuck. "It's okay, Bruce." She need to keep him focused on sex-rage more than hurt-rage. If it needs to be rough to keep him human, she can do that. "You can have me." She deepens the kiss, feeling him shudder beneath her as she bites down on his lower lip. "And it can be rough." She unzips the suit (stripped of it's weaponry, damn you Ivan.) and lets it fall to the ground.
Lust cuts through the anger as he watches her undress. Exactly what she was hoping for. "Come to me." He needs no encouragement. Springing out of the chair he crushes her against him. Hands travel across her back and over her ass.
She guides his hand to her bra, thick fingers trace the nipple through the black lace. She shudders in response and whispers. "Rip it off."
He smiles and obeys with a growl. Good boy. Keep it focused, Banner. We will get through this. He removes his shirt, then belt. The sound of the leather makes him smile. Damn.
"Bend over, Natasha." She hesitates. Wrong move. It makes him mad. Green flash of rage and she's thrown across a table, one hand keeping her down.
Bruce whispers, a horrified plea. "Please don't struggle, please don't make me angry." Hands skim the flesh of her ass. "He's so close to the surface."
The belt comes down. It hurts, but she's endured worse. He kisses the red mark as his fingers trace reverently across the welt. It becomes a rhythm, the hum of leather, gentle kiss, a sweet caress. He's done this before, knows how to make the pain pleasure and vice versa. She relaxes into the cadence, arching to show her appreciation.
He suddenly stops. "What did he mean when he said he hoped you made the right choice?"
She was hoping he wouldn't catch that. "I'm not sure-."
"Don't LIE to me." The leather comes down again, harder, no longer trying to cause anything but pain.
"Please, Bruce…"
"TELL ME." The leather makes a wet sound as it draws blood.
"I'm sorry." The snap of leather again, what once bordered on pleasure is now agony.
His growl is now more anger than lust. "You bitch… It was your choice, who got the shot Barton or me."
Unwilling tears brighten her eyes as the wet leather is brought down again with all of his considerable power. "I'm sorry, Bruce. It would have killed him."
"YOU told him to inject me with this rage, this lust." She can hear the sound of tendons snapping, expanding. "YOU'RE to blame for this." Suddenly enlarged hands wrap around her neck. He pulls her back against him. She feels the heat of his erection as he grinds it against her, the hand around her neck tightens. "You did this to me - FOR HIM!"
She feel panic rising at the sound of material tearing behind her. "Damn you Natasha." It's a ragged growl, half Bruce, half hulk. She looks back, the transformation is incomplete as the two drugs war with each other. "I'm going to kill him." He turns to Hawkeye's unconscious form.
Focus, focus on keeping his mind on her, on sex. Flipping off the table, she throws her legs around his retreating shape, as he lumbers toward Hawkeye. She grabs his neck between her thighs and takes him to the ground on top of her. He growls, circling her throat with one hand again, enraged, but distracted from Barton. Her legs unwind from his neck and twine around his waist instead, her hands wrap around his impressive erection and squeezes, un-gently. His head snaps back with pleasure.
That's right, she thinks, come back to me. "You like that, big boy?" She caresses his light green cheek and brings his face to hers, kissing him. This takes him aback and the green lightens a shade. "I want you." Taking him in her hands, she gently slides them up and down the oversized shaft. Whispering soothing words into his ears. "It's okay, I want this. You're my friend. You're beautiful."
And like the best of lies, they are based in truth. Bruce Banner is her friend, he is beautiful, and she does desire him, even if the other guy terrifies her.
Taking his hand, she licks one of his fingers (large enough to put an average sex toy to shame.) and presses it against her wet sex through the black lace. Riding his finger and letting the creature feel the slick heat.
A surprised, pleased grunt, the finger moves of it's own accord. He pushes up into her hands, and she continues stroking him roughly. Her smile is unforced now, as she speeds her movements, arching against him, matching his urgency.
Thrusting against her as she writhes against his hand. Arousal wars with relief having him like this on top of her. They can easily continue the heavy make-out and jerk-off session until -
She turn her head; tortured, stormy blue eyes meet hers. Fuck.
Something in her body language must alert Bruce, he turns to see Clint, awake. The half hulk, laughs. It's mean, feral and victorious. "Mine." His thrusts increase in speed and intensity. The large finger circling her clit pushes around her underwear and inside her, and she arches involuntarily against him.
Bruce's breathing quickens and she's close as well. She reaches toward her partner with one hand, biting her lip to keep from screaming in release. Banner roars in her ear as his orgasm follows hers.
The wall explodes beside them with perfect timing, Iron Man views the tableaux below. "Soooo." He says with a slow drawl. "Good to see you kids have stayed out of trouble."
She ends with a sad sigh.
"I wasn't sure how much Clint was ever awake for."
Definitely awake for the belt thing, that's for fucking sure, I think silently.
Her shoulders drop with defeat. "I left against doctors orders that night. Couldn't face either of them." Her slim shoulders shrug. "I think my fleeing was what truly set him off, made him so brutal with you. I'm very sorry about that."
I watch her, haunted eyes so similar to my own. I'm good at reading people, you have to be in my line of work. After she leaves here, she'll run from the Avengers, and drop off the grid. I know it in my gut.
"I never pegged you as a coward, you know."
Her green eyes flash. I shouldn't taunt an assassin, but no one ever accused me of having an over-abundance of common sense.
"Coulson once told me how strong you are, how you're got nerves of steel, fearless, all that nonsense."
Her hands clench and I know it's stupid but I can't stop.
"But I should have figured out that when it comes to love, you'd bolt like a scared child." I take a step forward, ignoring every instinct to shut the fuck up. "Hell, that's why Coulson hired me in the first place, isn't it."
She grabs my throat and squeezes. "Shut up."
"Those two will be destroyed if you don't go back." I manage to gasp out. "They'll blame themselves and each other."
Her face betrays nothing, but eyes brighten with tears and anger. She's going to either kill me or start crying.
"Go to them." I start to see spots from the lack of oxygen.
She lets go and I stagger against the door. Tears fall down her cheeks, it's a little creepy, like watching a statue cry. I hug her. She stiffens, then returns then leans into the embrace.
The door opens and her gun is drawn before I can even blink. "Wow." I turn to see my next client in the doorway. He looks like he's been gobsmacked. "I didn't know you had a twin sister." He pulls at his collar, sweating. "I will double, triple, whatever you want, just please tell me she's staying."
She laughs softly as she leaves. He drops like a stone as she passes him, his body jerks from the shock of her taser. "Oops."
My mouth quirks in annoyance. "You could at least help me drag him inside."
With a one designed kick, he's across the room and sitting in a chair, like a passed out drunk.
"Um, thanks. By the way, please call first if you're coming over again, you're bad for my clientele."
"There are several millionaires across the globe who are in love with a your doppleganger. If you decide to retire and take up husband-hunting, let me know, I'll give you a new little black book."
An interesting proposition indeed.
Epilogue:
Nothing beats walking across central park in the fall. Sinatra got that right for sure. I'm walking hand in hand with a millionaire I managed to get all by myself thankyouverymuch. When my eyes catch the flame color I dyed my hair so many years ago. Spread out on a picnic blanket. There they are, together, obviously. Stretched out languidly relaxed, feeding each other bits of cheese and sips of wine.
She catches my eye and gives a sly nod. My smile widens, I'm happy for them.
My fiancée notices the interaction. "You know the Avengers?"
"Some of them." I reply coyly and his eyes widen with awe.
"Wow, that's so cool – you'll have to tell me all about-."
"Sorry." I interrupt apologetically. "I'm afraid you don't have the security clearance for that."
He pouts prettily and we continue walking past them. Everyone enjoying this perfect day to be with the ones you love.
Finis.
Authors Notes - Thanks to everyone who bugged me for a sequel. It inspired me to figure out exactly what the fuck I was referring to in Doppelganger. Everything you liked about this, I blame on DJ Liopleurodon for an excellent beta.
I've kept the ending deliberately obtuse, but now thinking about finishing this up with a third part... oh so many possibilities to be explored :) Would love to see what readers would prefer, nap/clint, nat/bruce, or smutty threesomeness?
Reviews are adored, responded to and make you a better human being :)
