I've never written for this fandom before, but I really like the idea of this pairing (Bruce/Natasha) and wanted to try something new. Obviously, Bruce and Natasha will be the main characters but Cap, Iron Man, Thor, and Hawkeye are all mentioned.
So this is set post-Avengers, pre-Ultron. For the purposes of this story, all Avengers except Thor, are living in the Tower.
I have not read the comic books, and I apologize for any technical mistakes that may come of this.
I own nothing recognisable.
I hope you will give this a try and enjoy it.
It's Steve who first raises the idea. He and the other Avengers (with the exception of Thor, who's in Asgard, and Bruce, who point blank refuses) have been kept busy responding to various calls for help around the globe. Nothing quite to the dramatic scale that was the Battle of New York, mind you, but there are more than enough terrorists and traffickers and dangerous people with more money and power than sense to keep the quinjet in the air fairly regularly.
Steve knows that the team of himself, Stark, Romanoff and Barton is enough to tackle most Earth-bound emergencies. He knows that if necessary, or if the problem becomes otherworldly, Thor will usually be willing to descend from on high and help out (he's fond of Earth, after all, and it gives him an excuse to see Jane Foster.) But even with all this, he knows that without Bruce Banner (or more specifically, the Hulk) the team is not as strong as it could be.
He can understand Banner's distaste for fighting, and he can't even begin to understand what it must be like to carry the kind of burden that he does. An entire other identity that is rage and raw power and thirsts for battle, with no sense of his own self to temper it. But the Hulk is the Avengers' trump card, their edge, the one that strikes fear into their enemies more than any other. The mere sight of the menacing green figure is enough to send the weaker-willed souls screaming in the opposite direction, and the rest follow quickly once they've experienced what he can do.
As a human being, Steve Rogers will always sympathize with Banner's plight. But as Captain America, a soldier and a strategist, Steve is also unable to ignore the simple truth; the Hulk is an asset in battle. He wants him to fight. And unfortunately, there's no way of having the big guy involved without Banner in tow. They're a package deal.
Banner unsurprisingly doesn't like to talk much about this subject, but from the rare occasions that he does, Steve has deduced that it's the lack of control, and fear of harming the innocent that most distresses Banner about his other side. What they need is a way to rein the Hulk in when the job's done and get Banner back into control over his own mind before the Hulk does the kind of damage that can't be repaired. Since he woke up, Steve has seen more things in the world that he thought were impossible than he's had hot dinners. Very little seems impossible to him anymore. There has to be a way.
He presents his theory to the team over dinner one Tuesday, and the reactions he receives are mixed, to say the least. Banner is horrified, Stark thinks it's a brilliant idea, Barton looks apprehensive, and Romanoff makes no outward reaction whatsoever, but he can practically hear the gears turning in her mind. He'd be prepared to bet a twenty that she's already thinking about how they could do it.
He catches her eye and they exchange a glance. Natasha Romanoff has spent her whole life fighting. She's been trained for it since childhood and she's been fighting ever since. If anyone knows how valuable an advantage like the Hulk is in battle, it's her. If he had to guess, he'd say that she agrees with him on this, but he never really can tell with Natasha. With the occasional exception of Barton, nobody sees anything she doesn't want them to see. It can be unnerving sometimes, but that's a small trade-off for what she brings to the team, which is a lot more than just a deadly aim and a lethal roundhouse kick.
So Stark's in, and Romanoff seems to be too. That's half the team on board; a good start. But Banner is the one this most concerns, so he's the one they need to convince.
Banner takes off his glasses, polishes them on the hem of his shirt and then replaces them, clearly playing for time. "Steve, are you out of your mind?" he asks, once he's recovered enough from the surprise to speak. "I thought we'd agreed on this. New York was a one-time only situation."
"Oh come on, Bruce!" Stark jumps into the conversation before Steve can even open his mouth. "You always want to hear the gory details of the missions when we get back, I know a part of you still wants to be out there with us, kickin' ass."
Banner aims an irritated look at his self-proclaimed 'science bro.' The two of them tend to spend most of their time together when there's no mission, shut up in one of the tower's state-of-the-art labs from whenever Stark deigns to stumble out of bed, till late into the night. Steve has no idea what they're doing in there; when they discuss their work in the earshot of the others, they tend to speak in fast-paced technical jargon he doesn't understand. His theory is that they're both so pleased to have found a friend as intelligent as themselves, the fact that other people don't speak 'science genius' slips their minds.
"It's not that simple Tony. You of all people should know that. Otherwise why have we spent the last two months designing Veronica?" By the hard look he gives Stark, clearly this is supposed to have some kind of significance.
Whatever reaction Banner was intending to evoke, apparently fails. Stark looks neither cowed nor apologetic. "Veronica's a last resort," he replies, typically unruffled. "And she's nearly ready. Even more reason that you shouldn't worry."
The rest of the team exchange glances, and then Barton sighs. "OK, I'll bite. Who's Veronica?" he asks.
"A friend of the big green rage monster," says Stark smoothly, and when pressed, uncharacteristically declines to say any more on the subject. Usually, anyone foolish enough to show even the slightest interest in whatever they're doing in that lab is treated to a full breakdown of every detail, from conception, to planning, to setbacks faced. Steve makes a mental note to investigate this further at a later date. Banner and Stark are clearly up to something, and that thought unsettles him. Secrets aren't good for a team, especially one that flies into mortal danger every other week.
The discussion goes on for a long time. As expected Banner is highly reticent to do any more experimenting that concerns his other self.
"This isn't a simple trial-and-error situation that we can just keep repeating till we get it right," he points out. "What happens if something goes wrong? I won't be able to stop the Other Guy from going on the rampage, and any one of you could get caught in the crossfire." Bruce throws a guilty look at Natasha as he says these words. It's been months, and he's still torn up about the incident on the SHIELD helicarrier. She could have easily been killed, and he credits the fact that she's still breathing more to luck than good management on his part.
The thought of any of his friends falling victim to the Other Guy's rage is more than he can bear, but for some reason, picturing her mangled body inspires an extra layer of dread. He's not entirely sure why. He's lot closer to Tony than Natasha, and it's no secret that the position of her greatest ally and confidante is occupied by Clint. Maybe it's some residual, psychological thing because she's a woman. He has to force himself not to cringe at the thought, and makes a vow to never ever speak aloud any thought of the kind. She wouldn't appreciate it. She's far more capable than any military man he's met (excepting Steve, of course) and she holds her own in their ragtag team of crime fighters without any superpowers or chemical enhancements or shiny metal suits.
Put simply, she is exceptional. But all the assassin training and hand-to-hand combat prowess in the world won't save her from the Other Guy. It was a close call last time. Too close. It's his responsibility to ensure that it doesn't happen again. Not to her, or any of the rest of the team.
Bruce can see Steve gearing up to come at it from another angle, and he is rapidly losing patience with this conversation.
"Look guys, I understand where you're coming from," he says, mostly addressing Steve, but making sure to glance around the table to include them all. "But this is not what I signed up for when I moved in here. I'm happy to help Tony come up with new tech, and to continue my work in the labs, but I'm not going to fight."
He never once raises his voice, but the team knows him well enough to realize that for now at least, the discussion is over. He stands and leaves the table, ignoring Tony and Steve's disappointed looks, and Clint's relieved one. He can feel Natasha's gaze on him as he retreats for the safety of the lab, but avoids her eye too. She probably thinks he's a coward now, and she'd have every reason to. But he'll take cowardice over killing machine any day of the week.
As the door slams shut behind Bruce, Steve sighs.
"Well, that was a waste of time," he says, irritably. He's used to being undermined by Stark and his trademark sarcasm, and Romanoff's dry wit, but defiance from Banner is unusual. Ironically, Bruce Banner, their resident green rage monster is probably the most even-tempered of the team and more often than not, is the peacemaker in situations like this.
"Did you really expect anything else?" asks Clint, leaning back in his chair as the tension that was filling the room begins to dissipate. "Banner's always been pretty clear about where he stands on this."
"But if he would just look at it differently," Steve persists, "he'd understand why."
"You're a soldier, Cap," Stark casually interjects. "Banner's not. You volunteered for the superpower upgrade. He didn't. You embraced your hero life, and all he wants is to make it stop. Hate to break it to you, but I don't think he's going to see this your way."
"Jeez Stark, when did you start getting so in touch with Banner's mental health?" asks Clint, with a hint of a smirk. "If you don't watch out people are going to think you've actually got feelings."
He and Natasha both snort with laughter, as Stark tries, and fails, to look offended.
"Nobody's perfect," he shrugs. "But I'm pretty much as good as it gets."
"Keep dreaming," says Clint, as Steve and Natasha roll their eyes.
As usual, criticism rolls off Tony Stark like water off a duck's back and he rises from his chair. This meeting, apparently, is now over. He claps a hand on Steve's shoulder as he passes him, heading for the kitchen.
"As much as I hate to agree with you, I'm with you on this one, Capsicle," he says. "Give Bruce some time, he'll come around."
Bruce escapes to his lab, to examine the results of a test he's been running, and to fume in peace. He asks JARVIS not to let anyone in, not even Tony, though he knows that if it comes down to it, Tony will simply override his AI and come in anyway. He'd like to think that his friend would appreciate that he wants to be alone right now, but subtlety and tact have never been Tony Stark's strong points.
He'd always thought Steve would get it, would understand why he doesn't want to do this, but he realizes now that the soldier instinct of Steve Rogers never truly switches off. He's probably been gearing up to this conversation for weeks. And Bruce can see where he's coming from. Hell, if he were in Steve's position, he'd probably want the same thing.
But he's not in Steve's position. Steve Rogers gets to be Captain America, paragon of righteousness, all-American hero, while Bruce Banner has to be a rage-fuelled creature, with almost unlimited strength, and no way to control it. A ticking time bomb. He can't agree to this plan.
He won't.
It's been a month since Steve first dropped the Hulk bombshell, and, true to his word, Bruce has not given in. Steve, Tony and even Thor one day when he'd dropped in for a visit, have each tried to convince him to reconsider, in their own distinct ways.
Steve appeals to his sense of duty to the team, to the country, to the world.
Tony promises upgrades to Veronica, upgrades to the jet, and every kind of complicated technological gadget he can dream up to help control the Other Guy, a safety net for if things go sideways.
Thor, who has always been a demigod of few words, keeps it relatively simple. "You have the power of a great warrior, Dr Banner. Do not fear it."
Irritated as he is that they won't let this go, he is polite to them when they bring it up. Polite but firm. Each receives a flat-out no.
Barton hasn't been keen on the idea from the start, and they don't have much to do with each other anyway, as a general rule. He's not one for science stuff, and Bruce tends not to frequent the gym a few floors down where Barton and Romanoff often spar.
That only leaves one person to take a shot at convincing him, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little wary of her. Any intelligent person would be and he likes to think, without too much ego, that he is more intelligent than most.
She finds him one day when he's in the kitchen, eating a bowl of cereal and reading over last night's results. He and Tony have run into a problem with the latest project they're working on, and ran some tests late last night to try and figure out where they're going wrong. Most of Tony's fanciful gadgets aren't really in his ballpark, but he appreciates that a second set of eyes on a problem is always useful. It also has the added bonus of keeping Tony busy enough to not pester him anymore about the Other Guy.
He glances up, and starts a little when he sees her, standing at the kitchen island, holding an apple. Of course, he didn't hear her come in; he gets pretty focused on his work, and she can move around with complete stealth when she wants to. She's not wearing her slinky black catsuit today, so it's probably not a mission day. He's not sure what she does on days when she's not working; she tends to keep to herself most of the time. Occupational hazard of being a spy, he supposes.
"Morning, Doc," she greets him, with that tiny little smile that either means she's pleased to see him, or laughing at him, he's never been able to tell which. "What'cha got there?"
The question surprises him. Rarely does she ever initiate conversation, and when she does, she's never shown the slightest interest in his work. This has to be about the Hulk plan.
"Numbers, figures, equations. Nothing that would interest you, I assure you." He regrets the words as soon as they're out of his mouth. One sentence into this conversation and he's already managed to insult her. Great work Banner.
She crooks an eyebrow. "You calling me stupid, Doc?"
"Of course not, Miss Romanoff, I just…uh…"
See, this is why he embraced science and math in his youth, because he's hopeless at talking to women and always has been. Betty was a notable exception, but even she would never accuse him of being smooth when it came to the fairer sex.
Back comes that little grin, but this time he doesn't doubt that she's laughing at him, and well she might. He's a worldwide authority on gamma radiation, published in countless scientific journals, but right now he can't even seem to string a sentence together.
"Relax," she says, with a hint of humour in her voice. "You were right, I've never been much for the technical jargon if I can avoid it. And I'm not much for the formalities either, at least not among friends, so you can drop the 'Miss Romanoff' too."
"Friends?" he echoes, stupidly. Tony is his friend, sure, and Steve, and Pepper, and maybe Thor, at a stretch, but he never considered the relationship between himself and her as friendship. They have a healthy respect for each other's abilities, and a friendly acquaintance at best, but not friendship. He always figured that ship sailed when the Other Guy tried to crush her into a pulp.
But apparently, once again, he has misread her, as she shrugs. "Sure," she says. "We're teammates aren't we? Live in the same building, like the same kind of movies? No deeply repressed, burning hatred for each other? Well, at least not on my end, how about you?"
"Of course not," he manages to answer, remembering just in time not to tack the 'Miss Romanoff' on the end. Of all the ways he expected this morning to pan out, this odd conversation with the Black Widow is not one of them.
"That settles it, then," she says, seeming satisfied. "See you around, friend." She takes a bite of her apple, and departs.
It's only about an hour later, when he's watching Tony frantically press buttons on his holographic screen and bark orders to JARVIS to run the new algorithm he's just come up with, that he realises that she didn't mention the Other Guy at all.
He doesn't see her for a few days after that; she and Clint have a mission and he and Tony have managed to come up with a solution to their problem, so they're basically in the lab from daybreak until well into the night, until the night Pepper marches in and demands they take a break. Tony attempts to argue with her, but she puts her foot down, and within ten minutes he meekly puts down his tablet and follows her out of the lab. Bruce follows suit; this project is Tony's brainchild and design, there's just no point continuing on without him.
Pepper bullies Tony into a semi-respectable outfit, and off they go for a quiet dinner somewhere nearby. Of course, Tony and 'quiet' rarely can be used in the same sentence, but there's apparently a little place round the corner they often frequent that doesn't feel the need to trumpet the fact that Iron Man likes to eat there.
Pepper, polite as always, invites him to join them, but he declines. He's not about to play third wheel. He contents himself with waving them off from the doorway, and then decides to occupy himself with the newest issue of a scientific journal he subscribes to. Before he can retrieve it, however, JARVIS announces that 'Agent Romanoff has arrived.'
She looks a little worse for wear, not quite as put together as usual. He surmises that the mission probably didn't go as smoothly as Fury had initially hoped. Story of their lives.
"Where's Stark?" she demands, by way of greeting.
"He and Pepper went out for a date night."
She rolls her eyes. "Great. Stark's out getting laid, while I'm in life or death situations with malfunctioning equipment." She brandishes one of Tony's 'new and improved' Widow's Bites at him, which isn't glowing like it should be. "Damn thing short-circuited or something, nearly zapped me instead of the bad guy."
"Are you all right?" he enquires. She doesn't look injured from what he can see, just pissed off, but she's the type to conceal an injury in order not to seem weak. It's a particularly dangerous habit of hers, he's noticed. Several times he's overheard Barton scolding her for it. No doubt he is the only one she'll allow to do so; if anyone else tried it, she'd flatten them, and that includes Steve, super soldier or not.
Predictably, she shoots him that usual coy smile and assures him that she's just fine. He's still not buying it, but it's not his place to pry. As she's amply proved many times over, she can take care of herself.
"Don't often see you outside of the lab at this time, Doc," she says instead. "Shouldn't you still be bent over a microscope or something?"
"Tony and I are banned from the lab for the next twelve hours," he answers. "Pepper's orders."
"And Stark agreed to that?"
"She didn't really give us a choice in the matter. I believe her exact words were 'either you two take a break or I'm telling JARVIS to lock you both out of all the labs and putting an end to your little science club.' She knows how to override every system. Tony taught her how in case there was an emergency."
"Bet he's regretting that now." She sinks into an armchair, and he notices that her movements are laboured, and she's favouring her left arm. She doesn't wince, or give any indication that she's in pain, but he knows the signs of an injury when he sees them. He can't ignore this any longer.
"You're hurt. Let me see," he requests.
"I'm fine."
"Come on…"
"I'm fine. I've had worse knocks than this from being jostled on the sidewalk," she jokes, but he is distinctly unamused.
"Let me see," he repeats, and inside, his frustration stirs the Other Guy. Banner pictures him sitting up and sniffing the air, awaiting his cue. But it won't be happening today.
She eyes him coolly from her armchair for a few moments and he's sure she's about to either punch him, or leave the room. He'd deserve either one, for prying into her business like this, and he can't quite believe he's doing it. This is so unlike him, he has enough grievances without taking on other people's too. But this feels different somehow.
She regards him for another few seconds and he's not sure which of them is the more surprised when she holds out her arm. Gently, he pushes up her sleeve to reveal a long, deep gash. Not life-threatening of course, but definitely in need of stitching, and sooner rather than later. Medical doctoring isn't really his forte, but this he can do.
Her skin is smooth. He's not sure why that's relevant, but apparently it is, because now he's noticed it, he can't seem to stop noticing it.
"I can stitch it up for you," he offers. "Save you a trip to SHIELD medical."
She tugs her arm back again, and shrugs carelessly. "I can take care of it."
"I know you can, and probably better than I can, but I thought you said we were supposed to be friends. And you don't have to be the Black Widow all the time. Let someone help you, for a change."
She says nothing in response to this uncharacteristically impassioned speech of his, but simply smiles and holds out her arm once more.
It takes him thirty minutes, to stitch, clean, and dress the wound, and neither of them speaks the whole time. He is too intent on his task, and she is watching him equally intently, no doubt noting the many mistakes he's making that she could have done better.
"What do you think?" he asks, as she inspects his handiwork. His professional pride is on the line here, after all.
"Not bad, Doc. Not good as me, of course-"
'Of course."
"But not bad at all."
That's high praise from Natasha Romanoff, and he takes it as such, pleased he was able to do her this small assistance and make up in even the tiniest way for the helicarrier.
"You know, we could use a medic on missions sometimes," she says, slyly, and he eyes her suspiciously.
"What?"
She shoots him an innocent smile that he doesn't believe for one second. "Just saying."
He waits for her to launch into the same "Hulk Could Be An Avenger Too' sales pitch the other three did, but, as he might have expected, she's more subtle than that, and lets the subject lie. At least for now.
"You could try being more careful," he suggests, probably pointlessly.
That gets a laugh out of her, albeit a hollow one. "No way, Doc," she says. "Where's the fun in that? Anyway, It's been a long day," she says, abruptly, getting to her feet. "I'm going to go sleep for the next three days. I'll leave the door open, so you can check my stitches during the night if you want."
He recognises the last comment as an attempt to throw him off his stride, and stop him lecturing her. Of course, she could simply tell him to mind his own business, but that doesn't seem to be her style. She's not the Black Widow for nothing; most men are playthings to her. But unlike the others, he knows that she's just screwing with him.
"I think I'll leave that in your more than capable hands" he replies. "Goodnight, Miss Romanoff."
"What have I told you about that?" she chides him gently, and there's a playfulness about her that he hasn't seen before. "It's Natasha, not Miss Romanoff. If I have to correct you again, I'll beat it into you instead."
He'd like to see her try. But as she rises to leave, there's a certain unsettlement about him. He's only felt something like it once before, long ago, with a different woman, and when he was another man.
It's a complication he doesn't need, and that she certainly wouldn't want. But it only gets worse when she throws that damned half-smile over her shoulder at him as the elevator arrives.
She's a beautiful woman. Of course, he knew that already, but he doesn't think he's ever really appreciated it properly until this moment. And he can't believe it took him so long.
"Night, Bruce," she calls out softly to him as the doors close. Unhelpfully, his mind pipes up that she rarely uses his given name, and that he quite likes the way she says it.
Great. The Other Guy is more than a test for his emotional stability, and he knows he's not even slightly equipped to deal with something like this. Give him an equation or some complicated theorem any day.
He leans well back in the chair, removes his glasses, and rubs a hand over his eyes. Get a grip, Banner. He's not a geeky high schooler with a crush on the cute girl from homeroom; he's a grown man with responsibilities, chief of which is keeping the Other Guy in check. It's dangerous, the way he reacts to her pushing his buttons because he's not completely in control of it, and that terrifies him.
Bruce Banner doesn't get to have a normal life, he learned that long ago, but he can still try to keep the Other Guy's impact on it as minimal as possible.
And that means, avoiding anything that gets his heart racing, no matter what, or who it might be.
I hope you found something about this to enjoy. I enjoyed writing it. These two are challenging characters, and I am hoping to explore their growing bond in a way that feels true to them, perhaps in another chapter, if people like this one.
Thanks for reading!