Author Note – just something quick then I'll get back to Don't Make Promises You Can't Keep. Mainly set a few weeks after AOU's last scene. Also contains spoilers for CA:CW.

Disclaimer – I don't own, just borrowing.

When The Call Comes

"There is peace even in the storm" ― Vincent Van Gogh, The Letters of Vincent van Gogh

"We sure could use an Incredible Hulk right about now, any shot?" He's only half serious because he wouldn't force Bruce into anything. At the very least she should berate Tony about his lack of discretion, especially with Ross sulking around, but she doesn't want to bring any extra attention to them. He squints at her knowingly, a slight smirk playing on his lips as she ducks her head quickly, unable to repress her reaction or the memories his low teasing tone evokes.

Instead of a sending a postcard like Fury predicted, Bruce calls at three AM when she should have been sleeping rather than listening to the rain tap, tap, tap on the windows. She's just crawled into bed and pulled the covers over her when her phone starts vibrating on her night stand. She doesn't recognise the unknown international number flashing across her screen but she answers anyway, not many had her private number and few of them used it unless it was important. Her phone was already tracing the call when she hits connect. Her breath catches when she recognises his hum through the phone before he stammers an apology in way of a greeting.

"Sorry…not sure if you wanted to hear from me."

"No," she says quickly then realises how it could be misconstrued. "I mean yes; I want to hear from you."

"Well, I would have sent a postcard but they're too slow," Bruce jokes self-consciously and she can imagine him scratching the back of his neck. "And there's always the risk that you'll hang up on me."

"I won't," she assures him as she recognises the tone he uses when he blushes. It feels good to hear his voice. "Phone's good. Quicker."

"Yeah, figured I was cutting it close."

"Cutting it close?"

"It's been weeks and I was worried it was too late to call you." She pulls her lower lip between her teeth. Truth was she had given up on him contacting her at all when the Hulk disconnected the video feed from the Quinjet. "This is less romantic though," he actually sounds disappointed. She'd kiss him if she were with him. Her phones beeps quietly, signalling the end of the trace. She resists looking at the result.

"I don't know, depends if you like talking to me when I'm in bed," the natural husk of her voice seems more pronounced to her as she settles against her pillows. It certainly feels quite intimate, listening to his gentle voice while cocooned in the dark recess of her room.

Bruce makes a quiet, strangled noise at her words and she bites back a laugh. "Were you asleep?" He worries.

'Dork,' she thinks affectionately, of course he would focus on anything other than the thought of her in bed. "No," Natasha admits with an eye roll. A soft huff answers her as silence befalls them and she takes the chance to listen to the background noise beyond his breathing. She can make out the tell-tale tap of the rain and for a second she hopes he might be close by. The rhythmic beat of drums in the distance dispels that theory. Again she resists checking the trace.

"Rough night?"

"No," she says coyly. "Listening to the rain." Her eyes drift to the window. Droplets cling to glass, distorting the muted light emanating from the security beams pointed away from the building.

"It's raining here too," Bruce tells her, sounding far away and distracted.

In her mind she can see him standing in the middle of a tiny kitchen looking out his window at the night, wearing a dark, baggy button up. His glasses perched on the tip of his nose, lenses reflecting the moon light and a days-worth of stubble on his jaw. She misses him more in that moment than she has since he left. The deep ache in her chest throbs as she pulls the comforter closer to her.

"Bruce?" Natasha questions softly when he falls silent.

"Yeah?" He answers immediately, snapping out of his daydream.

She pauses then, not sure how to proceed because of the limbo they're in. She's glad he called but it doesn't feel like the invitation she wants, nor does it seem like a call for help. Still she needs to ask, "Do you want me to come get you?"

"No," he replies sadly. "I can't come back, Natasha. I'm sorry but I can't be a part of that anymore."

It's not a rejection and she accepts his honesty, it's what she likes about him. This is progress though, he's reaching out. "Then why did you call Bruce?"

"I needed to hear your voice," Bruce says it so simply without hesitation Natasha's heart quickens. "And I needed you to know it was real." He swallows. "I called because I don't want you to doubt how I feel about you."

"It wasn't the right time," she consoles.

"No," he agrees. It hadn't been, she can admit that now. Just like she can admit now isn't the right time to discuss their regrets.

"I miss you," she sighs.

"I wish you were here," he breathes out.

Less than forty-eight hours later, she was. Natasha disembarks a small charter plane landing at Nadi International Airport. It's raining again as she exits the terminal to find Bruce waving at her through the windscreen of a car which has seen better days. She doesn't bother trying to shield herself from the downpour as she shoulders her duffle and strides through the rain, smoothly sliding into the passenger seat when she reaches the car. Without second guessing herself, Natasha cups his jaw as she leans in and fits her mouth to his, kissing him. Shocked by her boldness, it takes him a moment to return it but he's soon matching her enthusiasm as she smiles into him. Before he can deepen it into anything more, she pulls away. Her thumb edges along his lower lip as she smiles at him. "I adore you."

She didn't stay but she did go back. That was the first of many trips she made to visit him, meeting him in other countries as he moved around. They didn't get much time together, but she managed to fit in sporadic breaks in between missions, varying from as little as thirty-six hours wrapped around each other to days exploring the cities he was passing through. Her trips didn't go unnoticed by Steve or Tony. Neither said anything when she returned but they had their suspicions as she took disappeared more often, not always to visit the Barton's. He never asked her to stay and she never offered, just relished the escape from their realities. Lips quirk against her will and she purses them quickly to cover the response to her memories. It's for naught because Stark sees it and the smirk wins out over the squint. She blinks, pursing her lips together to subdue her own grin at her thoughts.

Tony may know about their secret rendezvous but she was certain he didn't know about the call she made to Jane Foster after that first meeting with Ross, telling her in no uncertain terms to get Thor to come and drag Bruce off the planet for his own safety. She was well aware of the history between Bruce and the aging Secretary of State, after all she had been part of the SHIELD team tasked with planting false leads to keep Bruce off Ross's radar after Harlem. She wouldn't be surprised if Ross only pledged his support to the Accords in hopes of gaining access to Bruce through the other Avengers. She tries not to think about the short, tearful goodbye they managed in England before Peggy's funeral. She misses him, now more than ever. She should've taken Thor up on his offer to take her as well instead of staying behind to play referee between Steve and Tony. Still that doesn't mean she would make the call if she could, she wouldn't drag him into this. He would be able to understand the principles and even her reasons for signing the Accords but he would never align himself with either side to encourage a rift in the team.

"Do you really think he'd be on our side?"