The labs in the newly christened 'Avengers Tower' were huge. They were massive, they were top of the range, and Bruce had to admit, they were extremely impressive. All of these facts meant that Bruce had found himself over the past few months of living in the tower, spending a majority of his time, in one lab or another just doing, well, stuff.

He was working, yes. Actually making significant progress in his research, but that was only in office hours. Office hours were technically 9am-4pm with an hour for lunch, Monday-Thursday. That was what he was getting paid for. So when Tony came blundering into one of the more quaint labs, albeit no less impressive labs, at 4:58pm on a Friday, Bruce was concentrating on less professional endeavours.

"Banner, you will never guess what she's gone and done-," Tony paused, looking at the odd array of objects lying on the counters in front of Bruce. "What are you doing?" he asked, taking a further step into the lab and picking up what looked like a torn off pocket of a pair of blue jeans.

Bruce took off his glasses and heavy-duty gloves and sat down at the desk. "Just looking into something." He shrugged, reclining back slightly.

Tony dropped the piece of denim and sat down in the other chair. "Seriously, what the fuck?"

"I'm looking into finding a way to incorporate some kind of Kevlar into other materials." Bruce said, gesturing over to the counter where many more ripped pieces of fabric lay. "You know, so you could be protected without having to wear a vest."

Tony appeared vaguely impressed for half a second before he seemed to remember why he had burst into the lab uninvited at a million miles an hour.

"Cool. But we have more pressing issues." He said.

Bruce sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. "And what would these issues be?"

Tony swallowed and steeled himself for the horrible truth he was about to bestow upon Bruce. "It's Pepper." he took a deep breath, "She bought a dog."

Bruce shrugged, expression unchanging. "So?"

"So? So?" Tony practically shouted. "Are you high? Pepper bought a fucking dog! A huge one that she intends to keep in the tower!"

"So?"

"Holy fuck, you really are high." Tony said more to himself than Bruce. "I was right about that big bag of weed, wasn't I?"

Bruce rolled his eyes and sat up straighter in his chair. "Tony, I'm not high. I just don't see what the problem is. It's one dog in a tower with like seventy floors, you'd never even have to see the thing if you didn't want to."

"It's the principle." Tony stressed.

"Tony, it's a dog. I'm sure no one else cares."

"Actually, Barton and Spangles are both obsessed with the stupid thing." Tony pouted and Bruce shook his head.

"And Natasha?"

"Romanoff was my last hope of getting that thing back into the shelter, but…" Tony trailed off with a flourish of his hand.

"She likes it, too?" Bruce guessed and Tony looked as though he was about to collapse.

"God no, but she doesn't want to murder it, so… I think Barton has more of an affect on her than she'd ever admit. Don't tell her I said that."

"Is this going anywhere other than you ranting at me about a dog, or can I get back to work?" Bruce didn't wait for Tony answer before he got up and put his glasses back on, going back to his many scraps of fabric.

Tony let his head loll back and groaned loudly. "So, there's no chance I can convince Pep that having the flea-bag in the house will turn you into the jolly green killing-machine?"

Bruce didn't dignify that by looking away from his research. "No, Tony."

Tony grumbled to himself, much to the amusement of Bruce. "Stupid fucking dog."

Xxxxxxx

At some point Bruce blocked out Tony's rambling about the dog, which was now apparently roaming the tower, and apparently at the lack of attention from the doctor, the billionaire had left. That had been on Friday, and given all Bruce had heard from Tony was radio silence for the past day and a half; he thought that perhaps the whole dog-thing had been cleared up.

Frankly, Bruce hadn't given it a second thought, far too involved in his work to even go anywhere else in the tower except his bedroom, and even that was an extremely short stay. It wasn't unusual for Bruce to isolate himself for days at a time when working on a project, in fact, he liked the solitude once in a while, but the niggling for some human interaction was making itself known and he decided to give the Kevlar clothes a rest for the remainder of his Sunday.

After showering and getting dressed in clothes he hadn't slept in, Bruce went to the common floor of the tower in search of his friends, or perhaps just a sandwich.

Bruce could hear the sounds of a commotion before he had even exited the elevator, but as the doors opened on the common floor, the voices became clearer.

"No, that is just stupid, Rogers." Tony was saying as Bruce rounded the corner into the living room. "You can't name a dog after a city."

"I like the name Brooklyn." Steve argued back.

"Who are you? The Beckhams?" Tony countered.

Steve's face went blank. "Who?"

Tony shook his head and smiled when he saw Bruce, waving him over. Bruce gave a small wave to Natasha who glanced up at his entrance, smiled, and went back to her book on her position on the couch.

"Banner, what would you name the dog?" Tony asked and Bruce looked uncomfortably between Steve and his expectant faces. When he failed to give an answer, Steve spoke.

"I like 'Brooklyn." He smiled.

"And I think its stupid. So does Nat- right?" Tony pointed to Natasha who didn't even glance their way.

"Don't call me 'Nat', Stark, or I'll stick this book so far up your ass you'll be able to read it without opening your eyes." She deadpanned.

Steve blushed and Tony turned back to Bruce, dropping his voice a few decibels. "What does that even mean?"

Bruce shrugged.

"And," Natasha spoke again and the three men turned their attention to her, "I think 'Brooklyn' is stupid too."

"Ha!" Tony punched the air and Steve huffed.

Natasha looked up from her book, placing it down next to her. "Don't get so excited, Stark. I think your idea is stupid too."

"What's your idea?" Bruce asked.

"Colin."

Bruce blinked. "Yeah, she's right, Tony. That is stupid."

Tony huffed and Steve grinned.

"Colin is a great name." he protested in Natasha's general direction.

"Yeah, but for a dog?" Bruce sat on the edge of the opposite sofa to where Natasha was watching them. "I mean, don't people usually call dogs names like 'Fluffy' or, I don't know, 'Rover'."

Steve's grin could have powered Avengers Tower for five years, Bruce was sure of it. Natasha rolled her eyes.

"See." Steve grinned at Tony.

"Shut up, Rogers." Tony grumbled, storming out of the room, Steve on his heals.

"Wait, Tony." Steve was calling, laughing as he spoke, "I want to tell you all about my stereotypically American upbringing!"

Once they were gone, Natasha sat up slightly straighter and addressed Bruce. "So you heard we got a dog?" she asked.

"Yeah", Bruce said, "Tony was complaining about it on Friday, but I hadn't heard anything since. I thought he'd managed to convince Pepper to take it back, but…" he looked in the direction Steve and Tony had disappeared to, and smiled before turning back to Natasha, "…apparently not."

"We've had the dog for two days and it's still being called 'Dog'. Pepper thinks he needs a name, so the guys have been fighting about it since." She smirked. "So far, I've taken the executive decision to out rule 'Rover', 'Brooklyn', 'Colin', 'Arrow'- you can guess who that was-,"

Bruce could.

"-And 'Iron Dog'."

Bruce raised his eyebrows in question.

Natasha shrugged, "Stark had more than one idea."

"Ah." Bruce said.

The elevator door opened and Clint walked in, a tan dog on the end of a leash in his hand, trotting in next to him. Bruce gave him a wave and Clint nodded.

"Hey, doc. How you doin'?" Clint asked, unclipping the dog's leash.

"I'm pretty good. So, that's the object of Tony's hatred?" Bruce nodded towards the dog who was excitedly bounding over to Natasha. The dog, far too big to be a lap-dog, jumped up onto the couch and began climbing onto Natasha's knees.

"Yeah, that's him," Clint smiled, sitting next to the doctor, "but he's coming round. He hasn't called him 'thing' since yesterday, so…"

Bruce looked back over to Natasha and the dog. She was growling commands at it angrily in Russian, which from the dog's reaction to her, seemed to be either 'sit' or 'get the fuck off me'. Either way, the dog leapt down and sat at her feet, tail still wagging even after it's reprimanding.

"Tasha and him…" Clint gestured to where his girlfriend and the dog were watching each other carefully, "…well, they have a few finks to iron out."

"A few kinks?" Bruce asked.

Clint turned to him, winding the leash around his hand. "The dog loves her, but she would rather he lived on the roof."

Bruce smirked as the dog attempted once again to place himself on Natasha's lap.

"Hey!" she snapped, and the dog lay down at her feet, looking up with sad eyes and whining. Natasha rolled her eyes. "Don't look at me like that. I saved you from having a stupid name like 'Colin'."

"Wow, that is stupid." Clint said, turning to Bruce. "That you?"

"God, no. Tony. I couldn't care less about the name of the dog, quite frankly." Bruce stretched and repositioned himself on the couch. "But you know, Colin, for a dog, just seems…"

Clint sat down on the floor next to Natasha's feet and petted the dog. "Stupid?" he supplied.

"Yes." Bruce agreed.

Bruce watched as Clint fussed over the dog and Natasha looked on, seeming more disturbed by the display of affection than anything else. He smirked and shook his head. Natasha might be absolutely terrifying, and her threats might be very, very real, but even from his position across the room, Bruce could tell that Clint had a calming effect on her.

Her expression changed and became a smirk when the dog rolled onto his back and Clint rubbed his belly. Natasha rolled her eyes. Even as he stroked the dog, Clint kept a hand on Natasha's ankle, rubbing small circles on the skin there. Bruce wouldn't dare ever admit to the assassins that he had ever seen such an intimate act, but he smiled, having witnessed it.

It might be downright out of the question that Natasha Romanoff would even be considered 'soft' in any sense of the word, but Bruce thought that perhaps Clint Barton had had some impact on her over the years. She hadn't kicked or threatened to maim the dog once, and in his book, Bruce thought that must be some kind of success.

He stood up and walked towards the elevators. "I'll see you guys, later." He called over his shoulder and the other two Avengers looked up from the dog. "Let me know when he's got a name."

"Sure thing." Clint said.

Bruce stepped into the elevator and once more called out to his friends with an afterthought. "I kind of like 'Kevlar' for a name." he smiled.

Even as the doors closed, he heard Natasha's answer. "No, it's stupid!"

Bruce laughed to himself. It seemed as though Natasha was the one most concerned about the dog's name. Perhaps she liked him more than they thought.