A/N: Hey guys…
I'm ashamed to show my face after it's been so long…
But I hope you like the fluff!
It's extra fluffy!
Chapter 10
Thursday.
It was Thursday.
And the last time she had seen Bruce?
Tuesday.
She wasn't quite sure when later was, but, Stephanie thought she'd rather see him again "sooner" rather than whatever his "later" was.
"Well don't you look just cheerful," Peter smiled at her as she walked into the kitchen. She didn't even glare at him. She'd just gotten out of practice with Steve, who had been thoroughly helping her get into shape. She'd punched the heart out of the bag today – well, not taking it right off its hinges like Steve did when he zoned out, but she was pretty sure she'd been thorough in pummeling it. And she was getting better with her balance with kicking too. Of course whenever she tried to kick the bag at the high x Steve had taped on it she almost always fell over, but it wasn't as bad as before. And the running cool down had helped her peace of mind. Hopefully that would last.
"How are you feeling?" she asked him, rounding the island.
"I need to get out," groaned Peter, stretching where he sat. "It's boring here."
"Yeah?" she smiled at him over her shoulder as she reached for a glass, "Just wait a little while longer, it'll get interesting again."
"Yeah-, wait," he stopped himself as she filled her glass with water from the tap, "Were you, I mean, do you even, work out?"
She peered at him over her shoulder, "Yeah?"
"Is there a gym here?- Of course there's a gym here, it's Stark Tower, they having everything in this place," he spoke faster as his excitement grew, "Did you know they have a helipad on the roof? And there's a swimming pool somewhere around here-."
She finished swallowing a mouthful of water, her hand on her hip, "It's Stark Tower," she said in a deadpanned voice.
He made a face at her, "Shut up, you know it's cool."
She waved him off, polishing off her glass of water, "Yeah, yeah, don't get snarky with me kid."
"Who even says snarky?" he wanted to know.
She twisted her mouth at him, "Shut up and eat your breakfast," she ordered as she put her glass in the sink.
"I already did," he said in an antagonizing voice, holding up his empty bowl as he made his way to the sink.
She reached for the bowl, "Give me that."
He snatched it away, "I can do my own dishes, I'm not five."
"You act like it," she sneered teasingly.
He glowered at her flatly, "Well then you're, like, three."
She threw up her hands in exasperation, "How does that even make sense? I'm like five years older than you."
"Two," he held up two fingers, "Unless you failed math."
She wrinkled her nose at him, "No mocking my lacking in math skills," she told him, grabbing his bowl from him and washing his dish, "I could rock you in writing any day."
"Right," he said skeptically, "Who has the 4.0 again?"
She rounded on him with a contending face, "I'll take you out, kid."
"I'd like to see you try-."
"She takes out the Hulk on a regular basis," Steve walked into the room, looking like he should be on the cover of a men's workout magazine instead of how she must look- that was, dripping with sweat and in total disarray, "I wouldn't try her."
Peter shrugged at him, leaning against the island, "That's because she's like part mutant or whatever."
"And she's got a mean right hook these days," Steve winked at Stephanie, who brandished her fist with a confident grin.
"Oh is that right?" Peter asked her with raised eyebrows.
She smirked at him, "Yeah that's right."
"Bring it on, then, sunshine," he challenged, tugging on a strand of her hair.
She twisted her mouth at him, hands on hips, "You couldn't handle this."
"Want to bet?" he contested, up in her face.
The Hulk was one thing, but Spiderman? She was pretty sure hanging onto him wouldn't do any good. So instead, "I don't hit cripples."
He gasped at her in disbelief as she walked away, "I'm not a cripple! Doc healed me right up."
"Speaking of Doctor Liretto," Stephanie said coyly, pulling herself up onto the counter next to Steve, who was making himself some oatmeal, "She's pretty."
The way his face lit up in appreciation, the way he half smiled, said everything, "Y-yeah, she is." But as soon as he stuttered the words out, his face fell.
Stephanie frowned at him, "What was that look for?"
"What look?" he demanded impetuously.
She cocked her head, pointing at his face, "That ridiculous puppy dog pout thing that you're still doing-."
"Um, I don't- I don't know what you're talking about so-," he said, trying to move away, shrugging as though it were no big deal.
She slid in front of him, blocking his exit, "Ah ah ah, don't even think about it. Spill."
Immediately his face hardened, "I don't have to talk to you-."
She nodded in agreement, "No but you should."
"What, 'cause you're a shrink?" he wanted to know, trying to pick a fight.
She held up a finger, "Psychologist. Difference. And no. What happened?"
He sighed, leaning away from her, "Nothing happened. We got in a fight."
"About what?" she queried.
He wouldn't meet her gaze, "It was nothing. It was stupid, ok?"
Well this obviously wasn't nothing, no matter what he said, "Right. So just tell me."
"No- wait, how did this even happen?" he stopped himself, glaring at her, before he tried to maneuver around her again.
She put her arms out to keep him from leaving, "You can't talk your way out of this one, kid. Just tell me."
"It'll be a lot less painful," Steve said flatly from where he was sitting at the island, gesturing at them with his spoon. Stephanie smiled at Steve.
Peter looked around at him in disbelief, "What you go to her for, girl advice?"
"Sometimes I do," Steve shrugged easily, taking another bite of his breakfast.
Peter narrowed his eyes at him, "She can't even get her own guy, what makes you think she can help?"
Steve seemed confused, "What do you mean?"
Peter rolled his eyes, "Well it's like, ridiculously obvious, that's she's into that monster guy-."
"He's not a monster-," Stephanie interjected defensively.
Peter gestured to her as though she'd proven his point, which really, she kind of had, "So see?" he said as Stephanie blushed in embarrassment, "Can't even get your own guy."
"Hey, want to shut up?" Steve growled, and suddenly the spoon he was holding looked threatening.
Stephanie shook her head at Steve, and then looked up at Peter, "You're trying to spin this around, kid. It's not going to work on me." She half smiled at him, staring into his confused eyes with her caring ones, "I'm just too good."
He took a step back from the look on her face, "Seriously? Seriously-."
She held up a hand to silence him, "Just, what happened?"
"Look- I haven't-," he leaned against the counter, twitchily, and then grimaced at the floor, "Not since Gwynn. So."
Ah. She understood now. Gwynn. "Do you think Gwynn would want you to hate yourself forever?"
He launched himself off the counter, getting in her face, making Steve stand up, but Stephanie held up a hand to stop him. Steve sat back down as Peter growled, "You-," he shook his finger at her, before shaking his head, looking away, "You are such a bad shrink."
"I'm not even a shrink, so it doesn't matter if I'm bad at it or not," Stephanie said, trying to sound upbeat, encouraging, "So what happened?"
"Nothing- she just got mad that I didn't tell her who I was," Peter shrugged his hands into his pockets, stepping away from her, "Not like she didn't know who I was already."
Stephanie tilted her head at him, "Why didn't you tell her?"
"I don't know, she's, she's, and the last time I told someone I-," Peter started shaking his head, licking his lips in agitation, "someone who I was, she ended up…" He stopped himself, looking away.
"Hey," she said, touching his shoulder gently, "she's working for a top secret facility as a doctor, and she hangs out with the Avengers. She'll be fine."
"Ha. Gwynn would have been fine, if I'd listened. If I'd-," he bowed his head, "Kept my promise."
And all the sudden Stephanie understood. Understood that he blamed himself almost whole heartedly for what had happened to Gwynn. It made her want to know everything that had happened, ask him all sorts of questions, but she knew. Not then, not at that moment. Right now that was not what he needed, was not for someone to poke him through his self made bars. So she flattened her hand on his shoulder, "You don't know that."
"I do, though," he said through a tightened mouth, "I know that." He shook his head once, before pulling away, walking towards the exit.
Stephanie made to stop him, "Look, Peter-."
He turned around, but still walked backwards, "Hey, it's ok. I'm just gonna go test out that gym."
His false unconcern wasn't fooling anyone, "Peter-!"
"Leave it, Steph," Steve told her from where he sat at the island, "It won't help."
She grimaced after the kid, "It might."
Steve shook his head, "No, it won't. Not right now."
"Ok," she sighed, and slid into a seat beside him, "So, thanks, for sticking up for me like usual."
He smirked simply, his eyes darting to look at her, before back to his cereal, "I stick up for my team mates."
Stephanie folded her arms and laid her head in them, thinking about what Peter had said, about her and Bruce. He was right. She shouldn't be giving anyone else advice when she pined after a guy she couldn't get, "He doesn't want me to stay."
"So that's what this has been," Steve smiled at his bowl.
She sighed. Had she been that obvious? Probably. She was a really good moper. If moper was a word. "Sort of."
Steve nodded, taking a bite of his breakfast, "Tell me, what happened?"
"Well, he, he asked me to go to Central Park with him," Stephanie smiled fondly at the memory.
Steve nodded again, "Yeah, when Stark found out you were both gone, he was, not happy."
Stephanie scowled, making a mental connection, "Stark?"
Steve spoke through his cereal, "Yeah."
"So he's the one that tattled on us?" Stephanie sat up a bit, miffed.
Steve looked to Stephanie, wary almost, like she was going to hit Tony again, "I don't-."
She stared straight ahead, "Jerk," she spat, sighing.
Steve's eyebrows knit together, "Me?"
Stephanie shook her head, "No, him."
"Yeah," Steve agreed, before letting the conversation drift into nothing, waiting for Stephanie to continue.
Which she did, after settling her head back onto her folded arms, "So, I asked if I could hang around," she said, getting back on the topic of Bruce, You know, follow him…"
"And?" Steve prompted.
She sighed herself into sitting up straight, "He said, no. That he didn't think I should give up my education."
Steve tilted his head back and forth, considering, "You probably shouldn't."
"But-," Stephanie was ready to argue, opening her mouth in anger.
"But I would," Steve said, meeting her eyes. And she couldn't help but smile at him. He smiled back warmly, "So, he said no huh?"
Stephanie glanced away, "Yeah-."
"He's just trying to protect you," Steve told her.
That only confused her. Protect her? Wasn't being at the side of a superhero the safest place to be? "What?"
Steve shrugged at her, a smile slowly growing on his face, "He's trying to do the right thing, and protect you. He's probably afraid you'll get hurt."
She frowned at that, "I won't get hurt though- and if I did he could just, you know, Hulk out, and then I would heal up just fine turning him back. See? No problem."
Steve shook his head emphatically, "Not that way, Steph."
"How then?" she wondered aloud. What did he mean, hurt? Hurt how?
He looked at her with raised eyebrows and lidded eyes, "How about you go talk to him about this?"
She glanced down at herself, "What, now?" She looked like a wreck, hair frizzed out around her face and sweat stained and downright grimy.
Steve shook his head with a "you're a goof" expression on his face, "No, go clean up first, and then go talk to him."
Stephanie stood up, hands on hips, confident. She was going to go talk to Bruce and hash this out. Whatever this was, it had to be hashed. It did. But she realized something, and that confidence drained out of her almost immediately, "But he's in the lab with Tony. They're busy-."
Steve smiled slightly at her, an odd expression on his face, "I don't think he'll be too busy."
She scrutinized his expression, "What was that look for?"
"What look?" he wanted to know, standing up, his breakfast done.
She said with a shrewd gaze, "That one- it was smug,- almost."
He ruffled her hair as he walked past, "I don't know what you're talking about, Doll."
"I'm not a doll!" she declared loudly as he turned on the water in the sink.
"Tell me how it goes," he said over his shoulder, winking at her.
She smiled at him, before half running from the room.
She didn't really think about what she put on she was so busy thinking about what to say to Bruce, because goodness, she didn't know where to start. She didn't want this to sound like a middle school girl's crush, because that's not what it was, and really, she would just be happy by his side, no matter what. That's all she wanted. But she didn't know how to say that without sounding absolutely ridiculous. So she panicked when she started down in the elevator, realizing she still had no idea to say, and no idea what she was wearing.
She looked down at herself.
Jeans, and a blue shirt. Good. Good, right? But she wasn't wearing shoes, just socks, which was kind of awkward in an elevator- was that going to be a problem, wearing no shoes? Was it protocol?
Protocol? In Tony Stark's lab? Yeah right.
She just had forgotten how to breathe for a second. And in that second she'd forgotten what she'd planned on saying. Had she had anything to say?
Crap! She should have written stuff on note cards or something-
And now the doors were sliding open-
Oh no, oh no! She almost pushed the elevator button to close again, but she heard something. Something that caught her attention.
Raised voices.
It took her a second before she could make it out.
"-Tony I didn't do anything-."
"You don't think I can't go back and look at the footage? It's like you're trying to inhibit this on purpose!"
"Tony, I think you need to cool off, get to sleep-." It was Bruce talking, and he sounded defensive.
"With you erasing data-?" And Tony was shouting.
"It was an accident," Bruce told him calmly. Stephanie had gotten over her shock at the two of them arguing, and had stepped into the room quietly, making no noise and pretending she didn't exist. Man she wished she had an invisibility cloak right at that moment. But from where she was standing she still couldn't see them.
"Accidents that erase whole parts of synthesis formula? I don't think so- you're not that much of a klutz, Banner," Tony accused, "You want her to come with you, don't you?"
Bruce was incredulous sounding, "What?"
Stephanie shook her head in disbelief. Yeah. What?
"Because if you don't have the synthesis by Fury's deadline, she'll be forced to come with you," Tony sounded scathing, but Stephanie was just shocked. She had to be the she they were talking about, right? Because she honestly couldn't see Pepper or Agent Romanoff being forced to go with Bruce anywhere.
"No, that's not-," Bruce tried.
But Tony interrupted, "Travel the world together? Sounds romantic enough, until she realizes she'll be living in slums, with diseases and deformities-."
"Stark-."
"Thieves? Murderers? Rapists? Yeah, you gonna save her from those when you're in the middle of a city? Where millions of people could get hurt-?"
"We'll stick to the countryside-," Bruce started to say, but stopped himself short, just as Stephanie stopped breathing. He had said "we."
"And what, camp out with the lions and tigers and bears? And see? You're already planning on taking her with you!"
Stephanie slumped against the wall, hiding a smile with one hand. He had said we. He had said we.
"No I'm not-."
"You said we!" Why did Stark make it sound it like a bad thing?
"I meant I-."
Had he really meant I? Stephanie felt the smile slide off her face. He might have. But-
"Admit it- you erased the data on purpose," Tony was back to his faultfinding.
"Tony you, you haven't slept in three days-."
"Don't blame this on me being tired. I don't get tired. I run on batteries," Tony waved him off, before he was back on the offensive, "You. Do you really want me to help you? Or do you want to always rely on a girl who's twenty years younger than you, who doesn't even know what anti electron collisions are, until she dies?"
Stephanie felt her heart sink. Why did Tony make her sound so terrible? So young and so stupid and so terrible? She was pretty sure hitting a billionaire twice after he'd forgiven her the first time out of his good graces, those very rare good graces would disappear. And she didn't really feel like hitting anyone- just like slumping down against the walls-
"I-," Bruce sounded almost as hurt as she felt, "I just wanted more time. Just, more time-."
"Well you don't have any more time," Tony reminded him harshly, "Ross is going to be all over New York looking for you, and Fury? He likes his deadlines."
"I know- I just, need to clear my head." Stephanie heard footsteps, and she pressed her back into the wall, all the sudden realizing what she had been doing- which was clearly eavesdropping.
"Don't go running off this time. I don't think Romanoff wants to play hide and seek again."
"Well if you hadn't told her-," Bruce sounded annoyed.
"You might have eloped on the spot and run away to India."
"Shut up Stark-," and Bruce stepped into sight, and froze on the spot when he saw her, "Stephanie." His dark eyes were wide, horrified.
And she couldn't manage anything more than a, "Hi." She was still processing.
He took a small step back, eyes locked on her, "You- you heard."
"No- I just got down here," she lied, probably sounding more cheerful than she meant to, "What's up?"
Tony came stalking into the picture, and when he saw Stephanie he rounded on Bruce, "You planned this, didn't you?"
"No, no, I didn't even know she was coming today," Bruce gestured to her nervously, before pulling off his glasses.
"It was spontaneous," she nodded at Tony, glaring at him for yelling, before turning back to Bruce, "Um, you busy?"
Bruce's face lit up a little, making her smile as he replied, "No-."
"He should be helping me," Tony said, folding his arms in annoyance. "But if he's going to be erasing data like that, then I don't want him here. Because I still want to find a cure for you," he looked Stephanie up and down, "instead of having you use a crutch." He turned away from them, walking back into the lab.
She would hit him with a crutch -
Bruce shook his head at Tony's receding back, "Should we-?" he gestured for her to enter the elevator.
She couldn't help but agree, "Yes-."
"Don't forget to use protection!" Tony called to them, obviously still annoyed as the elevator doors slid shut.
Stephanie felt herself blushing, but it was Bruce that spoke in stutters, "He- he's just-."
"Yeah," she assured him without looking up at him, "He's Tony. I'm used to it."
"I don't think I'll ever be," Bruce sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Stephanie grinned at that, snorting a bit. Bruce smiled at her slightly.
The elevator continued to pull them upwards as silence stretched. Stephanie hazarded a try at prying into what they had been really talking about, "So- were you two arguing?"
Bruce was immediately panicked, facing her with wide eyes, "You said you didn't hear-."
Stephanie held up her hands in defense, "I didn't, I just, heard raised voices-."
"Right, right," Bruce nodded, his anxiety fading away again, before he asked offhandedly, "How old are you again?"
Stephanie was confused, "Twenty four. Why?"
"Nothing," he said, shaking his head, staring at where the wall met the floor.
Stephanie twisted her mouth up at him, "You look exhausted."
"Thanks," Bruce chuckled, still not meeting her eyes.
It was Stephanie's turn to panic, thinking he'd thought she'd insulted him, "No, I meant-."
"I know," he reassured her with a lopsided smile.
She bit her lip, "Do- you want to take a nap?"
"Not," he half smiled again, and his expression was odd, "Not exactly."
Stephanie didn't know what to make of it, so she turned away, staring at the ceiling, "You probably should. How long did you say you've gone without sleep?"
"Ah," he sighed, now staring at the ceiling as well, "Too, too long."
"You should take a nap then," she encouraged brightly.
"I should," Bruce agreed with her wearily, "Probably I should, but-."
"But nothing," she decided in a firm voice, "You'll get sick otherwise." Oh heavens, did she sound like a mother or what?
"I don't get sick," he told her, meeting her eyes.
"Well," she quavered momentarily, "Still."
"Still what?" he smiled, and for a second she forgot what she was arguing. She loved when he smiled, loved how easily that quirk came to his mouth.
"A nap?" she tried, sounding almost incoherent she was sure.
"Maybe it wouldn't hurt," he nodded, his gaze trailing away, before snapping back to her again, "But," he sounded hesitant, "after."
"After?" Why did she have to sound so hopeful?
He nodded, "After. I'll, see you then?"
"Of course, yeah, you know I'll be here," she smiled, so broadly, because here again, he wanted to spend time with her, with her, "So," she said as the elevator doors opened to his room.
"So I'll, see you then?" he prompted, raising his eyebrows.
"Right, yes. Yes. Good night, er," she stopped herself from fumbling further.
He chuckled, his eyes dancing, "Good night."
Ugh, she was an idiot! She banged her head against the doors of the elevator when they slid shut.
And yet-
Even though she was an idiot-
Tony had seemed positively convinced that Bruce had purposefully erased their progress. And Bruce hadn't really denied it. He had, but he had also said… that he just wanted more time. More time with her. Right? Or was she being too hopeful?
But he had said we! He had! She'd heard it- they'd stick to the countryside. She would love to stick to the countryside. Heck she would just love to stick by his side…
She was being ridiculous. Ridiculous. Hopes up so high she felt like she was floating.
The elevator doors opened on the wrong floor to her surprise.
And in walked-
"Thor!" she stated with surprise as the man towered over her.
"Lady Warrior," he nodded at her as he stepped inside, "Forgive me, but I have forgotten your name."
"Stephanie," she reminded him with a smile, leaning back against the wall.
"Lady Stephanie," he smiled at her, "How do you fair?"
"I'm, good, thanks," Stephanie spoke hesitantly, "How- are you? Er, do you fair, I mean, um-."
"I fair well," he chuckled at her stuttering, and she felt like kicking her foot against the ground like a kid. He was just so- overwhelmingly, royal, or regal, or something that she couldn't define. Godlike, maybe? She recalled sarcastically. "I seek out Captain Rogers," he said to her determinedly.
"Steve?" she blinked at the formal 'Captain Rogers,' and then remembered that she herself only days ago had called him Captain Rogers, or Captain America. And now she was on a first name basis with him, and he called her 'doll.' And he was teaching her how to fight. "I don't know where he is, I haven't seen him since breakfast. Jarvis?"
"Yes Miss Steph?"
"Who speaks?" Thor demanded, looking wildly around.
"Oh, it's Jarvis," Stephanie pointed towards the ceiling. "He's an AI."
"Artificial Intelligence," Jarvis said informatively, half reminding Stephanie that Thor wouldn't know what an AI was.
"Is there another person I cannot see within this chamber?" he searched the ceiling where she had pointed. "Reveal yourself!"
"No- no," Stephanie grinned at his bewilderment, "He's, Jarvis is a computer program, created by Tony, to help run programs for him while he's busy. Sort of. Is that right, Jarvis?"
"Something similar to that," Jarvis sounded as though he were a bit miffed at the abbreviation.
"So, he is a ghost?" Thor wondered aloud.
Stephanie didn't know how else to explain it, "Er, kind of."
"No, I am not," behind his edifying tone he sounded annoyed.
"A ghost that knows where Steve is?" Stephanie prompted with a guilty smile, her gaze shooting to the ceiling.
"Yes," Jarvis said with a sigh, "I do. He is on the floor below."
"Might we travel there, Good Jarvis?" he looked sidelong at Stephanie, as though asking, 'was that polite?'
She grinned up at him, and nodded, giving him the thumbs up.
He regarded her thumb curiously, before grabbing it with two of his large fingers.
"It means 'good job'," she giggled at him, pulling her thumb away, and took his hand, folding his fingers into a fist, and pushing his thumb up.
He held the thumbs up symbol a little longer, and nodded at her, smiling cordially, "Good, job," the statement was thick in his mouth, "Is that right?"
She smiled brightly, trying not to show how humored she was, "Yep."
The elevator started downwards, surprising Thor a bit.
"Lady warrior," Thor said as he let his hand drop, and she couldn't help but grin at the nickname, "You remind me of Darcy in a small way."
Stephanie blinked, confused, "Darcy?" Dang it, and here she had thought she had caught onto the names of everyone in this social circle.
"A, friend, of mine," Thor told her, "Perhaps you will meet her someday."
"Sounds fun," she said, and then amended, "I would be delighted."
The elevator doors opened, startling him. The man, er, god, was jumpy for being, well, a god.
"Captain Rogers should be on this floor, Mr. Odinson," Jarvis said politely, though she was sure there was a pause before he put the 'Mr.' in front of Odinson.
"Thank you," Thor hesitated, looking to Stephanie again, "Jarvis."
Stephanie gave him the thumbs up sign again.
Thor responded in kind, looking to her to make sure he was doing it right, before stepping off the elevator purposefully, and saying, "Farewell, Lady Stephanie."
Stephanie waved, "Bye! See you later!"
The doors slid shut behind him.
"So Jarvis!" she smiled up at the ceiling of the elevator, "How are you?"
"I-," he paused, "I'm well, Miss Steph."
"Good to hear," she said with a grin, "Though you sound a little uncertain."
"It's not in my programming to think about such things Miss Steph," he replied.
"Oh," Stephanie hadn't considered that. "Well, maybe you should think about them."
"Perhaps I should," he sounded contemplative. "However, Miss Steph, Mr. Barton is looking for you, as well as Miss Asa."
"Asa! Take me to her, please," she smiled at Jarvis, or at the ceiling.
"They plan on taking a trip," Jarvis told her, and the elevator still didn't move.
"Sweet! Another chance to sightsee!" Still the elevator didn't move, "Is- it ok if I go?"
"Yes of course it is," Jarvis told her, "However, you might want shoes first."
Stephanie looked at her socked feet, and then bit her lip over a smile, "Yeah, maybe I would."
They didn't end up sightseeing though. Clint Barton, the second Avenger's handler, had decided that Asa could use a shopping trip, to relax her. Well, if Stephanie had been kidnapped, and then right after been signed up to work for S.H.I.E.L.D. as the Avenger's doctor, she would have needed some stress relief too.
The agent and the short doctor were close. It was fun to watch them together, Barton treating her like a kid, and Asa pulling him around. He had excellent input though. Upon questioning, the agent muttered something along the lines of, "Nat likes to shop."
That made Stephanie grin broadly.
Asa was fun, bright, spirited. She knew what she wanted, and followed through. Stephanie could only admire her for it. She liked her taste of clothing as well, and it was helpful, since Stephanie wasn't quite sure what was in fashion at the moment. And if she was going to attend the Stark wedding, she was pretty sure she was going to have to be at the height of it.
Finally, when they had both found things to wear, and had purchased them (the money had generously come from Pepper), Stephanie was happy to be back at Stark tower, where no one was glaring at her for looking out of place in such fancy outlet stores, and where she could collapse happily on her bed.
When there was a knock at the door.
She sat up, confused. Had she and Asa mixed up bags? There had been a lot of them, at least by Stephanie's standards.
She went to the door.
And to her surprise, there stood Bruce, hair a little mussed, and his hands bashfully in his pockets. He looked up at her when she opened the door, and she couldn't help but meet those dark eyes. "Hey," he said, sounding as though he wasn't sure what to say.
"Hey," she grinned at him, not even thinking to say more she was so happy to see him.
"H-how was your day?" he asked her tentatively.
"Most Excellent," she replied easily.
He smiled, glancing away and then back at her, "Have any excellent adventures?"
"Of course! It's Stark Tower! You don't even need a Ted or a Bill," she teased, wrinkling her nose, "How about you?"
He shrugged, jabbing his thumb at the elevator, before sticking his hand back into his pants pocket, "Just got some shut eye."
She nodded at him, noticing the bags under his eyes were partially gone, "You look do look thoroughly not exhausted."
"Thanks," he rolled his eyes, before their easy conversation "So, do you wanna do dinner?"
She looked at him perturbed, "I thought we couldn't leave-." Because she did NOT want to run into Natasha like that again.
"We," he smiled, looking down at the floor fondly, "we aren't going to."
"Oh," she stated blankly, before grinning broadly, "Yeah, sure."
He gestured for her to go ahead of him, "What do you like?" he asked her as she stepped into the hallway, "To eat, I mean?"
"Erm, I'm not picky really," she told him, a little untruthfully. She was somewhat picky. But whatever this guy made, she was going to eat it, even if she had to gag down tuna-nuna casserole (which she loathed above all other foods, even haggis, which she had never tried, but she assumed even if she had, she would rather eat that than tuna-nuna casserole).
"Alright," he was so cheerful as he pushed the elevator button to go up, "Then let's see what we can conjure up."
She had never been to this kitchen before. It was smaller than the one the Avengers had all eaten in the morning after Peter Parker and the destroying downtown New York episode. But, like in all of the Stark kitchens, there was plenty of anything Stephanie could think of. Bruce pulled open one of the cupboards. "You sure you don't have any preference?"
"Hey I can't cook, so," Stephanie laughed, walking over to peer inside the cupboard with him.
"So?" Bruce asked her, eyebrows raised.
"So," She shrugged easily, and then smiled, "I'm at your mercy."
He started pulling out things, setting them on the counter, "Well say uncle if anything looks like it will make you sick."
He started putting pots of water on to boil when she realized she was standing there, staring at him awkwardly. She jolted herself out of it, and rubbed her hands together, "So what can I do to help?"
He chuckled, shaking his head, cutting strips of chicken, "You can tell me how you've been doing."
"No, I mean like cut carrots or something," she said, going for what looked like the salad area he'd set up. She could handle making a salad, right? She picked up the knife he'd laid next to a cutting board.
He shook his head again, reaching for it.
She pulled away from him, teasing, "What, you don't trust me with a knife?"
"No," he said quickly, "that's not what I-."
"It's not like I'm a serial killer," she said, keeping it out of his reach.
"That's not what I -," he tried to insert.
"And I promise not to cut your fingers off," she made her voice sweet, but she was challenging him.
He pursed his lips in a sarcastic expression, "You couldn't if you tried-," he went for the knife again.
She shrugged, looking coyly up at him, "So what's the problem?"
"You should sit back," he told her, "You know, relax."
"Yeah, but how am I supposed to learn to cook?" she wanted to know.
"I'll have to teach," he stopped himself short.
"What?" Stephanie prompted, eyes bright.
"Not, nothi- not a thing," he sounded frazzled a bit, but he was still smiling, waving her to, "Go sit, sit down, over there."
"No, what were you going to say?" she grinned, stepping closer to him.
"That," and he reached for the knife and got it nimbly in his hands before she could protest, and continued his sentence confidently, "That I'm, not the best teacher."
She rolled her eyes as he walked back to his task, folding her arms, "Says the college professor."
"I only taught a few classes, and they weren't very good," he told her, putting her knife down and picking up the meat slicing one.
"Uh huh," her tone was dripping with sarcasm.
"No really. The only reason they kept me was because," but he stopped himself again, the knife he was working with slowing down.
"Because what?" she demanded.
"My research," Bruce said, face darkening slightly as he focused on chopping again, "It was, promising."
"Oh," she thought she had better not go down that path at the moment, "But I'm sure your lessons were good."
He gave her a doubting look, "You've never had me as your teacher."
That didn't matter, "You have an instinct for it." He'd taught her a lot that time in the park about the different countries and cultures. Things that she wouldn't have remembered otherwise.
"Oh," he chuckled, his eyes sparking, "do I now?"
"Sure you do," she tilted her head, "I bet you can teach me how to cook."
"Ah ha," he pointed his knife at her, "I see what you did there." He put the meat in a pan on the stove easily.
"Uh huh," she grinned mischievously, picking up her abandoned knife, "So what do I do first?"
He smiled at her, really smiled at her, his dark eyes glittering bright. She had to look away, forcing herself not to blush, and started after the carrots.
"No, not that way," he told her with a gentle laugh, coming over to help as Stephanie brought down the knife on one of the carrots.
And he proceeded to teach her how to make a decent salad, which, apparently she'd been doing wrong all her life. When she'd teased him about making dinner, she'd assumed that he wouldn't know how to do fine dining. It added up. Professor, caught up in his work, and before that student, caught up in his work, and never having time to learn how to cook more than Kraft macaroni and cheese. And that being a lucky day. But here he was, really and truly showing her up and teaching her how to cut lettuce the easy way, and how to slice a tomato, and things that she had never really thought about doing.
And she didn't feel incompetent. In the slightest. She was entirely at ease, laughing with him, and at herself when she did stupid things.
"You really are a good teacher," she smiled at him as she set the table for two. He was still working on the chicken over at the island.
"What?" he said in surprise, smiling still, his black eyes lit.
"You're a good teacher," she repeated fondly.
He rolled his eyes, and continued to slice up the chicken, "Come here and stir the sauce."
"No, I'm serious," she told him firmly.
"So am I."
She twisted her mouth at him, laying out the last spoon, "I'm coming, I'm coming."
She joined him at the island, stirring the sauce amiably. He smiled at her as she stood next to him, before indicating at her handiwork, "You decorated the table nicely."
"Thanks," she shrugged, not looking up from the sauce, "My dad was, pretty strict when it came to setting the table. When it came to a lot of things actually."
"He's military isn't he?" Stephanie nodded. Bruce's mouth frowned on one side, "Then I believe it."
She wrinkled her nose at him, "The military isn't all bad you know."
He raised his eyebrows at her over his glasses, "Have you been on the wrong side of one of the generals?"
"Well, I dropped punch at a general's house at my dad's promotion party when I was five," she grinned up at him, "The general's wife wasn't too happy either."
He laughed, shaking his head, "Carpet?"
"Oh yes carpet," she said adamantly, feeling his elbow brush hers while they worked so close together, "White carpet, like blisteringly bright white."
"Until the punch."
"Until the punch," she agreed with a laugh.
"Red?" he wondered aloud, glancing over at her.
"Grape actually," she corrected matter-of-factly.
He looked up at the ceiling with a smile, "Even better."
She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, "So what did you do to get on the wrong side of a general?" she asked tentatively.
"I," his face darkened, but she could tell he didn't want to be in a bad mood, "Became Mr. Hyde."
"Ha ha," she mock laughed, "No really. What happened exactly?"
"Exactly? I was a, mad scientist that was dating his daughter. When I turned out a freak he was happy to get rid of me. And then he couldn't get rid of me," Bruce's face was grim, "He's been after me ever since."
Oh that's right. Betty. Eck. And here she had been having such a lovely time, "He sounds like quite the villain," she stated cautiously, "I'd like to meet this General Ross."
"No," Bruce said fervently, staring at his pan so menacingly she was afraid it might start to melt under the pressure.
"Why not?" she wanted to know.
He shook his head, "No."
"That's not an answer," she said, determinedly.
"It's enough of one," he responded, meeting her eyes. His were so severely serious, so unquestioningly dismaying that she let it drop, feeling the pit of her stomach drop along with it.
"Alright," she said uneasily, "Cool," What else was she supposed to say to that? "Um, so, what do you want to drink?"
"I don't drink alcohol often, if that's what you're asking," he said, his voice still a color too dark for her liking.
She laughed, "Oh gosh no. No, alcohol and I don't mix well at all." She was such a light weight, she'd only had one bad experience with alcohol in her life and decided it just wasn't worth the trouble.
Now he sounded perplexed, "So then what would you like to drink?"
"Er, sparkling grape juice?" she tried, not sure if he'd go for that.
"What?" his eyebrows knit, and he half laughed.
"Yeah, it's what I normally drink instead of wine- let's see if they've got some- ah ha!" she pulled it out of the cupboard, almost as much to her surprise as it obviously was to his, "They have the most random things in this house," she muttered, before asking, "So how close are we to being done?" She paced towards him, putting the grape juice on the counter.
"Nearly," he said, lifting the lid off the rice. Steam billowed out His glasses fogged up immediately. Stephanie laughed aloud and reached up to get them before he did without thinking, taking them and scrubbing them clean.
"Thanks," he smiled at her, stirring the rice as she finished the job.
She handed them back to him gingerly, "There, good as new," she smiled brightly.
He smiled as put them on, blinking experimentally. He looked at her then, eyes kind, and she could only beam in response. He tilted his head at her, and then caught a strand of her hair, folding it back into the rest of her hair. His hand trailed along her cheek before he pulled away entirely, leaving a scorch mark where his fingers touched. She couldn't meet his eyes, sure that she was blushing profusely.
The hissing sound of water boiling over from the rice jolted her back to reality. Bruce was tending to the mess, but, he didn't seem unhappy. He seemed, peaceful, even though his rice was now burning.
Or so Stephanie thought. But no, the rice didn't even burn. No, the meal looked perfect as they laid it out together, and Stephanie couldn't help but sigh.
"What?" Bruce asked, pausing as he sat, looking at her nervously, "Is this, not what you wanted?"
"Oh no, it's wonderful, too wonderful," she sat down, mumbling, "You're just wonderful, that's all."
"What?" Bruce smiled, though he still looked confused.
"Nothing," she smiled hugely at him.
"Uh, uh huh," he still sounded uncertain, "So, shall we?"
The spoke a lot over dinner. They spoke at first about cooking, and about what their favorite dishes were after she'd told him how excellent the meal was. And it was.
And he was absolutely wonderful. Wonderful, perfectly so. Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful.
She couldn't have been happier sitting across from him at the table while they spoke to one another easily, without any gaps or awkward pauses. It was fun, simple. She laughed more than she had in days and she loved to listen to his laugh. His deep, full laugh that was entirely infectious.
They cleared the plates together, and when Bruce immediately started on the dishes she smiled at him fondly.
"What?" he asked her, looking apprehensively at her.
"Nothing," she told him quickly, waving her hands, "It's just my family does it that way too- the start working right on the dishes." In no way would she tell him that she had been envisioning him fitting right in at home, getting plates from her brothers while she dried and loaded them into the dishwasher, while her mother put away left overs and her dad swept.
He nodded at that, probably not sure how to respond. She shook her head, and started to help him.
He should have realized, however, that flicking her with water was not his smartest idea.
"You did not just do that," she said incredulously, straightening.
He looked at her wide eyed, before going back to washing the last pot.
She twirled the dripping drying rag into a spiral.
She'd been on the high school swim team. She knew how to make a "rat's tail" out of a wet towel, smiling maliciously as her victim unsuspectingly finished up.
How he managed to dodge the 'swat!' the cloth she would never know. He looked at her, holding his hands between them in defense, backing away, "Oho, no, no."
She wrinkled her nose at him, and lashed the cloth out again. He leapt out of the way, leaving the sink wide open and water running.
She put her hand under the faucet, and flung a palm full of water at him, splashing his face.
For a moment he stood there, flabbergasted, the water seeping into his shirt.
Stephanie grinned confidently, straightening up, and putting her hand closer to the water again.
He looked from his drenched shirt, to her, and his eyes flared with the challenge.
Ten minutes later they were sprawled on the thoroughly wet floor, laughing too hard to breathe. Stephanie had slipped on the dish soap that had been spilled all over Bruce's head, and after Bruce had completely soaked her, she had pulled him right down with her, where they proceeded to give into the laughter as small bubbles rose into the air.
Suds were everywhere, on her clothes, her hair, in his hair, on his nose. As the laughter faded, but the smiles grew, she reached over and got the bubbles off his nose, giggling as he quirked his mouth at her.
That was when his eyes caught hers.
The light was still there, bright, joyful, but honest, and openness had joined the emotions there. Stephanie could only feel those same things- honest, open, entirely open.
He was closer than he had been a moment ago, his eyes still fixed on hers, and now he was also apprehensive, along with happy and honest and open.
"Hey Steph, I was wondering-."
Bruce and Stephanie jerked back, away from each other.
It was Steve, walking into the room holding a DVD case in his hand, waving it around.
He froze when he saw them, wedged together in a mess on the floor, so close, except, nowhere near as close as they had been all of two point five seconds ago. He was immediately bashful, "Sorry. Um, I'll be out here, or, uh-."
And Steve left before he could finish the thought.
When Stephanie looked back into Bruce's eyes, they were downcast, no longer open.
She bit her lip, but tried to smile anyways.
Bruce chuckled to himself, shaking his head, and instead of meeting her eyes, he leaned forward and kissed her forehead. She felt her heart flitter wildly, and she closed her eyes slowly, but then he pulled away, and was standing up all too quickly. Too soon. Couldn't they go back to that open look in his eyes?
Stephanie didn't want to move, but Bruce offered her a hand up.
She took it, but his hands were so slick with soap she felt back down against the cabinets with a laugh.
"Oh my -, I'm sorry-."
"No, no," she chortled, thinking back to when she'd first run into him, but then he was helping her up again gently, and pulling her to her feet that weren't ready to support her yet. He propelled her right into him, and she was staring right at his mouth-.
She pushed herself backwards, afraid that she was too close in his personal space, but almost slipped in the soap again- would her clumsiness never end? Thankfully she steadied herself against the countertop, but Bruce made to catch her anyways.
"Sorry," she smiled embarrassedly at him, waving him off, "I'm a klutz."
"Well, you kind of are," he told her, and she wrinkled her nose at him, batting at him. He flinched away, chuckling. "You," he looked towards the entrance, and then down again, "You should go see what Steve needs."
"You sure?" she questioned, wondering what that dark expression in his face meant.
"Yes," he nodded, gesturing at the direction Steve left in.
"I'll be right back," she promised him, and dripped away out of the room.
She slogged up to Steve, who smiled sheepishly when she glowered at him, "I am so sorry."
"You are so toast," she countered.
"I had no idea what was going on-."
"Yeah! But-," Stephanie slumped against the wall, "Never mind," she pushed her drenched hair out of her eyes. "So what's up?"
"I was wondering if you wanted to watch Saving Private Ryan with me," he asked, tilting his head at her, holding up the DVD case. "You said earlier you did. Doctor Banner can come to," he added, trying to make her smile again with his toothy grin.
And who could be mad at Captain America really?
She rolled her eyes, "Alright-."
"What happened to you, doll?" he half smiled at her.
"What?" she demanded in a huff.
He ruffled her hair, making the suds rise up again. She swiped his hand away.
"Hey Doctor Banner!" Steve called over the Stephanie's shoulder, "Want to come watch the film Saving Private Ryan with us?"
"Uh, sure," came the answer from the other side of the island.
Stephanie beamed up at Steve.
All was forgiven.
A/N: Hey guys!
If you didn't like the fluff, don't worry. Next chapter there will be angst. Lotsa angst. So, enjoy all! :D