Natasha quietly crept through the compound, her weapons tightly secured to ensure that they would create no noise. She hated having to sneak out in the middle of the night, but she'd only gotten the assignment two hours ago and hadn't wanted to spend that time being told why she shouldn't go. It was a solo mission that the Avengers would turn into a team mission. She couldn't risk letting that happen, not with so much at stake.

She didn't bother leave a note. Her absence was explanatory enough and it was turning into a regular occurrence. They were used to Clint and her leaving spontaneously to do the missions that Fury sent them, though they normally left together. Steve and Natasha may have burned S.H.I.E.L.D to the ground, but Fury hadn't retired peacefully. No, he was still active, and she had been just as willing to help him then as she was now. Someone needed to do these unsavory jobs, and she would rather have it on her conscious than someone else's.

Surprisingly, F.R.I.D.A.Y. didn't alert her teammates that she was leaving, something Tony had threatened to program her to do. She knew that Tony hated when his teammates left, as it was almost like they were saying they didn't care that he gave them food, shelter, tech, money, and anything else they could possibly want. He gave the Avengers everything and more, but their lives were too complicated for that to be enough. She hated betraying Tony's trust most of all, since he'd already been let down so many times, but her mission was too important.

It was so silent at night, she thought wistfully. During the day, there was the constant sounds of explosions from the lab, loud banter from the common room, gunfire and shouts from the training room, and the occasional Quinjet engine warming up. It was so unlike the buzz of New York that could be heard from dozens of floors up at their previous headquarters, the Avengers Tower. She knew the remote location of their new facility was partially inspired by Clint's farm. Visiting his peaceful abode had impacted the Avengers immensely, Tony most of all.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she made it to the yard undetected. It wasn't uncommon for them to wander the halls at night, and she'd been caught more than once that way. Maybe it was a good sign that they were finally sleeping through the night. Maybe, just maybe, they were recovering from all the horrors they'd experienced. It was more likely that they were all exhausted from the obstacle course of death earlier (another one of Steve's training exercise amplified by Stark's tech. Really, the combination should be illegal), but she could hope.

Tony had a secondary garage further away from the compound for his older vehicles and more temperamental tech that Natasha always used for her missions. The cars she took on missions had a tendency to be blown up and she felt less guilty about that when they weren't his favorite, shiny new ones. The last car she had taken, a sleek little thing that ran on solar power and could reach impressive speeds, had actually survived the trip so she planned on using it again.

She slipped inside, the lights automatically turning on in the area she was had entered. It was eerie, and entirely too reminiscent of the bunker at Steve's training camp where they'd found Zola's computer, so she moved quickly to her chosen car. Unfortunately, someone was already sitting on the hood of it.

"You know, it wouldn't kill you to say goodbye," Bruce said calmly, as if this were a normal situation and not the first time someone had realized she was leaving in time to intercept her.

"How'd you know?" Natasha asked, genuinely curious. She mentally reviewed all of her interactions with Bruce in the last two hours and couldn't pinpoint when she'd slipped up.

"You lost track of time. You only do that when you're leaving." He patted the available space next to him on the hood. "Sit with me for a minute."

Against her better judgement, she did. She could never say no to Bruce, not when everything he did was so earnest. She curled up next to him, wrapping an arm around him as his hand settled on her hip. He tugged on one of her perfect red curls, exposing the pearl earrings beneath.

"You going someplace nice?" Bruce asked. She was glad that the designer coat she wore covered the skimpy dress her mission called for.

"Not really," she said quietly. "As always, it looks nice on the outside, but its rotten to the core."

"Is it dangerous?" Natasha could kiss him for the lack of anger and judgement in his voice. He wasn't being overprotective or controlling, he was genuinely worried about her.

"I wouldn't be going if it wasn't. It's nothing I can't handle, though."

"You can handle anything," Bruce replied wryly. "Is there anything I can say that will make you take me with you?"

Not stop her, no. Bruce was all too familiar with people trying to control him to ever try to do the same to her.

Natasha sighed. "I don't want you to see that side of me."

"Do you really think there's anything you can do that could drive me away?" His tone was almost amused.

Natasha kissed his cheek. "How about I keep my tracker on for once and send you a postcard? I should be gone for three days at absolute most."

He looked at her in shock. "You never keep your tracker on. Why do it now?"

"I have a compelling reason to change my habits," she crooned.

Bruce laughed and kissed her forehead. "I adore you, but I wish you could stay."

"So do I." She checked her watch. "If I don't leave in the next two minutes, Fury is going to kill me."

They both slid off the hood of the car, but she didn't reach for the door's handle yet. They stood hand in hand, moonlight from high up windows illuminating their faces in a silvery glow.

"What should I tell the other?" he whispered, stepping closer.

"That they're all a bunch of mother hens, and need to mind their own goddamn business," she replied, getting a weak smile out of the unhappy man.

"I wish I could come with you," he murmured again, cupping her pale cheek with his free hand.

She swallowed and shut her eyes. "I know."

And then his lips were on hers, and her hand was tangled in his hair, and there was a quiet desperation to their love. She tore herself away before she couldn't, and all but leapt into the car. There were no witnesses to see the single tear that rolled down her cheek, or to see the twitching fingers of the man who had to watch her leave time and time again, except for the stars and the moon.

Some stories didn't end as happily as others.