Author Note – Please forgive me, it's been a while. After the last two chapters, all of my ideas for this story became a mess in my head and it took a while for me to focus enough to write this chapter. In the meantime, I did write a few other stories to try and kick start it – Dangling by a Thread and Spies and Scientists – for those of you following Spies and Scientists, I do have another chapter planned.
Big thanks to my beta, Black' Victor Cachat who has been nothing but supportive and patient with me and my ideas, not just for this story.
Rooftop Conversations – chapter ten
'As long as one can think as an outsider, an observer apart from the conflict, there is hope for a resolving thought.' ― R. N. Prasher
She inhales the subtly scented air and smells the earthiness of pine and the grass, relishing the freshness from the lack of pollution she has become accustomed to in the city. Squealing tires and honking horns have been replaced by birds tweeting and the calls of her team mates down on the ground.
From where Natasha is watching the Hulk, she has a good view of the surrounding trees and the only – deserted— road into the compound over five hundred metres away from the far end. It would be picturesque and serene, if it weren't for the Avengers playing tag with the Hulk. Bruce would enjoy the view from where she is standing and tells herself they'll probably be huddled up here in a few hours, after the sun sets, looking at the stars which are beyond the fog of New York. It'll be a good way for him to relax after this transformation.
Natasha lands on her feet as she drops down from the roof platform where she and Clint had been observing from above the Big Guy as he rattled around the field without much to do except stomp. Bruce had transformed little over an hour ago and the Hulk basically had the run of the large field next to Starks' empty warehouse in upstate New York.
Thor runs the perimeter with Steve as back up, making a game of it whenever they turned the Hulk back toward the warehouse, to try and use up some of his excess energy while not turning it into a fight. They were enjoying it as much as the Hulk. The Big Guy engages them a few times, but even from Natasha's vantage point it was clear he wasn't using much effort, and she found his rare playfulness endearing, smiling softly at the sight.
While it's interesting to watch their game, that isn't what she's watching for. She could be closer, people would probably doubt what she can see from this far. It's an opportunity she couldn't pass up though. She's rarely seen him from a distance; she's usually in the field beside him engaging in her own fight to really appreciate his stamina. The contained strength she witnessed first-hand in the helicarrier is almost mesmerising from afar. She has time before she needs to get a closer look.
From his movements, she knows the Hulk is too wired right now to even start de-hulking; there's nothing sluggish about the way he moves around the field after Thor. His footwork is sure and strong, steady as he moves between Thor and Steve. He's not graceful, but not uncoordinated either. She can anticipate, she can move fluidly, she is deadly, but it was trained into her. Following his instincts is all he has – he was never trained nor does he need to be – it's something a seasoned fighter like Natasha can only strive to emulate.
She must make some sort of foreign sound as Clint turns his head toward her, the camera recording this fun is steady in his hands, his forehead twitching in silent askance. She shakes her head minutely, he doesn't need to know what she's thinking about.
She retreats to the roof access, taking the stairs two at a time down the enclosed stairwell accessing the large warehouse. Once her feet hit the ground she pushes through the double doors and is greeted by the sight of Tony, in one of his suits in front of the open front of Veronica, ready to merge both suits into one. Her muscles tighten as she realises what he intends to do. This isn't going to end well.
He isn't scheduled to test the supersized suit till tomorrow. Natasha doesn't hesitate as she strides toward the billionaire, calling him out as she does. "Stark, what are you doing?"
His face plate flips up as the repulsors change direction, turning toward her as he hovers metres above the floor. "I was going out to play with the others, Mom," he jokes.
"No," she orders, ignoring his crack. "You said you're testing the suit tomorrow."
"Yeah, but this is a great opportunity for the Big Guy to get used to Veronica," he argues.
"You promised Bruce," Natasha counters.
She and the others had witnessed that very conversation over breakfast, with Bruce becoming unnerved by the idea of Tony trying to play with the Hulk in that suit. Bruce voiced his worry that the sheer size of it would agitate the Hulk, the other guy seeing it as a challenge to his position with the team. They hadn't worked out all of the kinks, and he was concerned for Tony's safety.
She's only seen diagrams previously but seeing the real-life proportions now, Natasha can see why the Hulk will see it as a threat, the metal giant is a few feet taller with a bulkier frame. And it'll destroy all of the work the rest of the team has achieved with the Big Guy. If he engages Veronica, the others will need to step in and protect Stark if necessary. Any trust the Hulk has in them will be betrayed and they'll never earn it back.
Any chance they have to help Bruce will be ruined.
She can't let that happen to Bruce or the Big Guy.
Her fingers tease the EMP discs at her waist, ready to throw them if need be. Stark eyes the movement, then deliberately meets her steady gaze. They have a silent stand-off, her footsteps as sure as his fixed hover. Natasha won't relent, not that she'd ever give Stark the satisfaction in any other situation, because this is too important to Bruce to go wrong.
Natasha knows Bruce is important to Stark, their strangely engaging friendship has mellowed her own opinion and attitude toward the billionaire she met all those years ago. Unfortunately, Stark's still too impulsive for his own good sometimes. It's too easy for him to become reckless, as he doesn't think through the ramifications, usually putting others in danger, and it never ends well. He's usually left shouldering another bout of guilt and self-loathing which more than likely trigger his PTSD. There's no use reminding him of that, he'll dig his heels in.
"Let Bruce have today, Stark," Natasha reasons instead with a voice full of emotion. Unforced, unbidden, honest. "Don't ruin it by getting your ass kicked," she adds, daring him to try. Sometimes the urge to hit him is too overwhelming to fight.
"By you or the Big Guy?" He questions full of bravado with a quick glance at the devices on her waist. He should know by now she has set her mind to succeeding. If she has to take him out in the process, she will. The tough part would be stopping shy of killing him.
"Your choice." From her, it is a fair warning.
He holds her stare for a minute before he lowers slowly to the ground. "So, if this doesn't work, what damage do you think the false hope you've been feeding him will do in the long run?" His gaze flutters over her features.
"If you were this concerned, you should've said something before."
"We've got time, he's playing with Thor," Tony retorts as the suit front opens and he steps out, wearing a shirt and sweats.
A strong impulse to check the warehouse entrance overcomes her, but she refrains at the last second so not to give herself away to Stark. She relents but refuses to drop her hand from the EMP's at her waist. If they fail, she can always hack the suits again. "Clock's ticking, say what you've got to say Stark."
"First off, do not misunderstand me, I fully support this endeavour to pull a Beauty and the Beast on the Big Guy. Though I do question who's the beast in this scenario," he immediately holds his hands up in a pacifying gesture. It does nothing to soothe Natasha's mood, nor her mind which is busy searching for a way for her to justifiably kill Stark under terms of the Legionnaire agreement all of the Avengers' approved of. So far, she's drawing a blank. "I just want to know if you have a plan, or if you're just winging it. You haven't exactly been clear with how you're going to do what you want to do. Which is why I'm surprised Bruce agreed to let you do this without knowing the details."
"You've never been one to shy away from winging it," she replies with a smirk.
The same thing occurred to her. After agreeing, Bruce didn't press her for details. He didn't exactly withdraw but he is more reflective than normal and she didn't want to force him to talk about it in case he changed his mind.
Other than a goal, she hasn't really got a plan. She thought about it, except as Bruce and others have attested on several occasions, the Hulk is too unpredictable; it will be easier to follow his flow, than force him to change. Her aim is to monitor how he winds down, what signs the Hulk gives prior to changing back to Bruce, something she would be doing now if she had not run into Stark being so irresponsible, so she can judge her approach in the future.
Natasha doesn't expect to be successful on the first attempt, something she neglected to share with Bruce and knows he'll be disheartened by the lack of success. She kept that information from him because she didn't want him to change his mind at the last minute. It's not like she's worried about interacting with the Big Guy, aside from the first encounter their one on one time has been fairly positive which is why she is confident this time will be no different.
"I've always been a fan of good improv, but what about if the Hulk doesn't like being told playtime is over?" Stark prompts her when she doesn't supply him with an answer.
"Then it's his decision," Natasha harshly whispers. "Just like it is his decision to test this like this. You know he appreciates everything you've done for him, but this is Bruce's life, Stark, you don't get a say in it."
"Careful Red, you sound a little territorial there," Stark warns knowingly, coupled with a slight curve of his lips, neither triumphant nor teasing, which she finds more unnerving than a cocky grin. "How far are you willing to go to fix this for him?"
He knows.
Or at least he thinks he knows something.
He probably does, Natasha concedes, but she won't confirm anything verbally. Her silence does it for her. She does feel territorial, about Bruce, about the Hulk, and she's not ready to qualify any of those feelings to herself and least of all Stark. She doesn't want to explain the kisses they've shared or the foreign feelings they induce.
"He doesn't need to be fixed, he's not broken," she informs him as she spins on her heel and stomps across the warehouse. However, she still notes the incredulity, hinging on sympathy, on Stark's face, as opposed to the triumph she expected. He doesn't call her back, or try to continue the conversation. He's gotten enough out of her already, and anything else will cost him.
And her.
She's getting sloppy, she decides as she takes a deep breath before pushing through the door to the field.
She has no chance to find her centre as she's confronted by the Hulk landing in front of her, the ground taking the brunt of the impact. He huffs out a breath, his lips curling upward in his approximation of a smile. A wave of protectiveness surges through her as she pauses and the door shuts loudly behind her- that coupled with Stark's insights- causing her to blink a few times.
Natasha refocuses on his face and watches it morphing from the happy expression to a curious, questioning one. His head tilts to the side, mouth twitching as if he's trying to find the words to ask her what's wrong. Her emotions put him on edge immediately as he rears back slightly, straightening his back as he sniffs the air in confusion.
She lifts her hand to draw his attention back to her, silently cursing Stark in her mind. "I'm okay Big Guy."
Her words do little to reassure him, and he eyes her warily for a long thirty seconds; too long for her, too long for the rest of the team as they flank him. Thor is curious to see their interaction, while the look on Steve's face stands out the most; she can see his mind working out a strategy to get between her and the Hulk if necessary. It was too bad he was behind the Big Guy, and unable to see the concern moulded onto the green face, so he would know a plan isn't needed. She can't signal Steve to tell him to back off, she doesn't want to draw attention to the super-soldier.
"You been playing with Thor, huh?" Instead she soothes the Hulk. She needs him to concentrate on her.
The question doesn't distract him, his focus –like Bruce's– is as intense as ever, but he answers her in his own way with a huff, and a slight incline of his head in the Gods' direction.
"Having fun without me?" She tries to tease but he doesn't buy into her joke. Nonplussed by her humour he peers curiously at her, and she half expects him to cross his arms over his chest and sulk.
"It has been tremendous fun," Thor confirms while hefting Mjolnir. The Hulk sees the movement out of the corner of his eye and twitches. He's not overly fond of the hammer, even if he's come around to liking Thor. "It is always exhilarating to face a warrior such as the Hulk."
Natasha lifts her chin a touch to acknowledge the words, yet doesn't say anything else. She never has an issue with being the focus during a mission, she adapts to the situation. Except now she can literally feel all of their eyes on her, an air of expectation radiating from all of them including the Big Guy. She refuses to let a bout of glorified stage fright to get to her.
All of her life she's been used as a trigger, being pointed at a target and never missing. She hasn't lost her determination or ability to finish a job, her methods have been moderated and adapted to whatever mission she was given. Until Clint intervened. The most precious gift he gave her was her independence; her ability to make her own decisions. To be the one to call the shots and dictate what would happen.
Steve seems to pick up on her non-verbal cues, but not before the Hulk does. Just like Bruce. He always picks up on her feelings, no matter what façade she's trying to project. Just like Bruce. She watches him pivot so his back is to her and slumps to the ground. His arms cross across his chest as if protesting her mood. Without his scrutiny she manages to signal Steve and Thor to give them some space.
Their teammates back off to the edge of the field, looking dubious while trusting her judgement. Noting his position now, she realises he almost protectively put himself between her and the rest of the team. She's mildly offended, and wants to remind him she can defend herself, except she isn't sure how well he'll take it when she's still feeling a little off herself.
His head tilts toward the sky, searching for the sun amongst the clouds. It's late October, and the mist has been drifting in and out all day. He squints, growling softly, but still the sun evades him.
"Sun's low," she murmurs lowly and his ear flicks, his shoulders drooping as he drops his gaze to his hands.
She takes a steadying breath before stepping around the Hulk, surreptitiously eyeing the large expanse of his green back muscles. Natasha marvels at the power contained in his body, and all he's capable of. And how careful he can be in his quiet moments. No one really knows the Hulk.
In the past he's come and gone in rampages. Interchanging with Bruce, no one looks past the destruction or the rage to give him the benefit of doubt. Natasha isn't overlooking that facet of his demeanour nor does she hold any pretences over what he's able to become; she is fully aware of what it's like to run from him. But there's more to him than the monster everyone runs from, and she wishes more people could see it.
The truth is that the intensity she feels when she's near him is dizzying. A little heady sensation rushes through her, a spark ignites in her stomach. She's hyper aware of him, not dissimilar to when she's fighting and her senses are heightened by adrenaline, where everything is vivid. Her hand rises as she moves level with his shoulder and barely skims his flesh. His head jerks toward her and their gazes hold.
"Easy Big Guy," she mollifies. "Just me."
The Hulk relaxes a tad but she can see the confusion in his expression as he lets her touch him. Her hand travels over his bicep, the dip of his elbow. Her eyes never leave his face, catching the little twitch as the pads of her fingers glide on his skin. His eyes widen at the sensation; she can feel his pulse racing under his skin, just as she feels her own heart thumping in her chest. She wants to say something to break the thick heady atmosphere enfolding them, exhilarating and calming all at once. She half expects him to move away, instead he unfolds his arm for her fingertips trail along his forearm to his wrist. His hand jerks and his fingers flex. She pauses, her breath catching at the sight of him.
Imploring her to either stop or finish what she started, she doesn't know which. Ever so slowly she feels his hand open under hers. Just as slowly, her fingers finish their journey over his palm, smooth and surprisingly callous free, down to his fingertips.
"We're not going to hurt you or Bruce, I think you know that. We're not going to let anyone hurt you, they'll have to go through me," Natasha tells him, her voice barely above a whisper.
His eyes widen a fraction in comprehension. His chest heaves and her breath catches at his startled reaction to her promise. She holds his gaze, surprised by her own words and the vehemence with which she uttered them. Her introspection is short lived as the Hulk slips his hand away and carefully lifts up to go and join Thor at the edge of the field.
Bruce wanders out of his room after his shower and changing into fresh clothes. Their quarters for the weekend consist of rooms with Tony had built for the staff who would have to be in the warehouse overnight when it was operational. While the bedrooms are all fitted with wardrobes and comfortable mattresses, the other amenities Tony provides for his staff where moved out when he closed the warehouse. Though they brought more than enough supplies for the weekend, a ton of food sits in the kitchen at the end of the hall and a new couch and entertainment centre were set up in a common room.
Walking down the corridor, his head is a little foggy and he feels drained of energy. Unlike the Tower he can't hear the rest of the team in other areas of the warehouse. There is no noise, none of the sounds he's gotten used to. If he didn't need answers, he'd head back to his room to get some rest. He's not exactly sure what happened except that Natasha wasn't successful in changing him back. She hadn't said much after he regained consciousness, just slipped away before he could ask her to stay. He wanted her to stay.
His stomach rumbles and he drifts toward the small kitchen where he finds Barton sitting on the counter snacking a bag of chips as he holds his phone in his other hand as if waiting for it to ring. As soon as Bruce hesitates the archer turns his attention on him. Busted.
"Banner," Barton greets with a nod.
"Barton," Bruce returns trying to act natural. After that they lull into a stalemate, they barely interact as it is and whenever they do typically it's in a team setting. They've never found themselves having to make any kind of conversation no matter how trivial, someone usually saves them from it, usually Tony or Natasha.
Barton is Natasha's best friend and Bruce has no idea if she's said anything about them to him. But the other man hasn't said anything to him, nothing more than his usual surname greeting anyway. When they first met, Bruce assumed there was more to them than they were admitting but Natasha has since dispelled that notion when she actively encouraged him to take her to dinner.
"You looking for Nat?" Barton asks conversationally and for a second Bruce automatically assumes the question means more than the innocent face value but then he realises Barton probably only asked it for Bruce's sake to cover the silence.
"Um, yeah," Bruce agrees and his stomach rumbles again. "Well, and food."
"Do you always get hungry after?" Barton gestures vaguely in the direction of outside, his interest piqued. Bruce follows his gesture and realises he's asking about his transformations.
"Not usually, usually I need to rest, but I can't remember eating breakfast this morning," Bruce huffs out with a self-depreciating smile. He'd been too nervous this morning to eat. Barton actually cracks a conciliatory smile and holds out the bag of chips to him. Bruce takes a few and pops one in his mouth.
They crunch and chew for a few minutes before Barton breaks the silence. "Nat said you'd want to see the footage," he starts evenly. "I already uploaded it into JARVIS."
"Yeah, thanks for recording it," Bruce nods. Actually, he's afraid to watch it, not sure if he wants to know what happened and if it's linked to Natasha's notable absence.
Barton eyes him for a beat then shrugs. "No big deal, figured I better touch base with the team at some point, right? Don't want to miss all the fun."
He is rarely with the team, rivalling only Thor who has a reasonable excuse because he lives on another planet. Natasha doesn't offer any explanations on behalf of her partner nor does she seem bothered by his non-attendance so Bruce decides not to comment on it.
"With Stark involved, I kinda expected a rave in the middle of nowhere," Barton tacks on.
"Sorry to disappoint you, though the weekend's not over. Wait until he's front and centre while testing Veronica tomorrow." Barton grins and nods his head, happily surprised with Bruce's theory. Bruce moves to the cupboard which contains the tea and coffee, grabbing himself a cup from the draining board as he passes. "Do you want a cup of coffee?"
Barton nods his head to the side of him where his cup is still half full. "No disappointment, just a different kind of party Doc," he assures him. Bruce flips the switch on the kettle. "Sounds like it's a riot at the Tower though."
"Sometimes," Bruce smirks. The water boils and he pours it into his cup.
"Nat probably would've killed Stark by now if it weren't for you," Barton laughs.
"Goes both ways sometimes," Bruce says carefully. "She's a good listener."
"Yeah, solid with advice too," the archer agrees. "Once she sets her mind to something, nothing stops her."
"Beginning to realise that," the scientist concurs. Then the curiosity gets to him. "Do you know where she went?"
Barton narrows his eyes a fraction. "You should probably watch the recording before you talk to her," he advices cautiously.
"Did something happen?" Comes Bruce's anxious question. If it went smoothly, Natasha would've been there to help him transition.
"Not per say, it's hard to explain, probably better if you see it with your own eyes." His phone starts ringing and he checks the caller ID. "Sorry Doc, I gotta take this call," he hefts the phone and goes to the door, call over his shoulder, "By the way, Nat headed up to the roof."
Bruce waits for him to get out of ear shot before pulling out his tablet. "JARVIS, play the footage Barton uploaded."
That night, Natasha sits upon the roof of Starks' warehouse unwilling to break the habit she's acquired living at the Tower. She's found some peace in watching scenery whether it is deathly quiet out in the middle of nowhere, or in the centre of the busiest city in the world. She blames Bruce for that new facet. She stares at the stars plastered across the clear sky. She doesn't catalogue their position like she was trained to do, or try to figure out the constellations like she does with Cooper and Lila. Her mind registers that Bruce probably knows and would tell her if she asks when he joins her up here. She sighs softly, her breath visible in the cool night.
The rest of the team are elsewhere; Barton wanted to find a quiet corner to call Laura and the kids, Steve brought some files with him to continue his search for Barnes, Thor took off to see Jane once Bruce had transformed back, and there was no Hulk to play with. And Stark dragged Bruce to the lab to go through some preliminary checks before tomorrow.
Her head falls against the brick wall of the warehouse roof and she closes her eyes. In her mind she sees the Hulk staring back at her, that searching gaze cutting through her. She sighs again. For a split second she expected his eyes to turn deep, dark, warm brown she recognises as Bruce steady with the empathic look he's fixed her with so many times now. She felt the reaction as if it were happening to her, not him. Maybe it was.
But the Big Guy left her high and dry.
And she ignored the sympathetic glance Steve shot her as he went to keep an eye on Thor and the Hulk.
"Are you okay?" Bruce asks from the edge of the roof.
Her frown gives way to a soft expression as she answers him, her eyes remaining closed as she feels him approach. His light footwork defter than anyone gives him credit for, a clear sign of his experience on the run. Early on she realised he likes to play into the bumbling scientist persona, using like she does a cover. He would never have survived so long on his own if he was truly like that.
"I don't know, your alter ego just gave me the brush off," she rasps softly, her eyes sliding open as he hunkers down next to her on the gravelled roof. He leaves a respectable distance between them which is both too close and not close enough for the warring going on inside Natasha. "A girl can get a complex about that sort of thing."
The reddening of his cheeks makes her feel a tad better, making her think about the impromptu kiss in her bedroom nearly two weeks ago. She remembers the feel of Bruce's lips pressed against hers and how she readily met his kisses. She let herself enjoy the moment and his gentle caresses as he became bolder as he grew more comfortable with touching her. He impressed her by testing his limits, letting her lead him to her bed where he responded eagerly when she kissed him again. They didn't progress beyond kisses and chaste touches, yet it left her willing to try for more. He hasn't kissed her since leaving them with a charged tension whenever they managed a few minutes alone. She doesn't hold that against him. They've been helping Stark prepare for this weekend, time alone has been near impossible to have, spontaneous or not.
Breaking from her reverie, she hears him scoot closer and she registers a sombre look on his face. "Don't apologise for him," Natasha says. "Neither of you did anything wrong."
"Neither did you," Bruce points out. "You disappeared after."
She can hear his disappointment. Yes, she had left after he transformed, sticking around long enough to check he was okay before making some lame excuse about changing, then never re-joining the group. Her ego was bruised, and she was a little pissed. She may have been expecting to fail but it still stung. "I failed," she explains.
"I wouldn't exactly say that," Bruce counters. "He didn't try to run or kill anyone."
"We're definitely in trouble if you're the optimistic one," she quips and immediately regrets it. He's trying to console her after all. "Sorry."
"You're right," Bruce shrugs. "I do tend to fixate on the negative, but even I don't see this as a dire situation."
"You don't really believe he is capable of what we're telling you he is doing," Natasha sighs. She straightens her legs and crosses them at the ankles.
"No, I don't. I can only go on the feelings I have as I transform, or the few memories I have and the rage which accompanies them after an incident. Even now, fighting with the team, all I can feel is rage. There's no difference from his rampages."
"If I didn't know any better, I would say you're influencing him to be uncooperative to deter me." It comes out as a half grumble, only half serious. "I think your connection is better than you think it is Bruce."
"Even if I knew how, I wouldn't," Bruce promises and she believes him.
"Why not?" While she believes he has little to no recollection of his transformations – the devastation he expresses is too raw to be fake – she is curious as to why he wouldn't sway the situation if he could.
"I was hoping this would work for your sake," Bruce replies meeting her eyes. "It seems important to you."
It is. There is a lot riding on this, not in terms of fighting HYDRA, or whatever threats the universe has to offer, but because Bruce deserves some peace. He's been fighting his other half for so long, long before Stark was kidnapped, long before Steve woke up, just as she fights the influence of the Red Room. He's been torturing himself over things he can't control. Natasha wants to do this for Bruce. It's not about controlling the Hulk or him, it's about giving them something they can trust in, they can control.
"It isn't important to you?" Natasha clarifies with a frown.
"It is, but not for the same reasons," Bruce admits darkly. "I just, I don't want this to be a symbol of redemption for you," he continues hesitantly. "None of us is perfect, that's why this team was put together in the first place. I would like to think we've evolved past the point of strangers to friends and we're naturally going to help each other. Each of us have our own reasons Natasha for joining."
She swallows at his implication.
"I don't want this to be the wrong kind of restitution for you. If you are able to trigger a transformation back a couple of times, don't be surprised if he fails other times. Just don't blame yourself, Natasha. I don't want your redemption to fail because he does."
"You have no faith in him."
"I have faith in you," he earnestly whispers. He pauses as soon as the loaded words leave his mouth. "You're not like anyone I've ever met."
She can't bring herself to contradict such a simple, honest statement. Sad in a way, that he seems so content with the concept. Dangerous and unprecedented territory for them, attachments only complicate their world. It should scare him, in the past it would have. She probably shouldn't encourage it, in the past she wouldn't have. She doesn't know how to explain it only that it's nice and she likes it and she's never had that before. Like she's learnt with Bruce, he doesn't abide by the rules of her life and she thinks this connection they're forming has a chance to last.
"You mentioned me trusting you with him," Bruce's voice brings her back to him. "It goes both ways Natasha, you've got to trust me and him with you."
She doesn't say anything so he continues. "Something else was bothering you," he presumes.
She's not going to blame Stark, it's not his fault. He highlighted the problem rather than causing it. Bruce won't ask her to explain but she knows he's willing to listen if she's forthcoming.
"I watched the footage Barton recorded," Bruce explains. "I could see it, not obvious to those who don't know you, but it was there and if I can see it, then the Other Guy can too." She looks at him in silent askance. He swallows thickly. "He can feel it."
"And he walked away."
"I think you confused him, you were telling him one thing and he could sense another," Bruce defends lightly. "He got overwhelmed by it."
"How do you propose I overcome that?"
"Be honest with him," Bruce suggests. "Don't hide how you're feeling, even if that's your first instinct. It doesn't matter how good you are at pretending to be something you're not – he knows, he can feel it."
She blinks a few times at his insight, surprised he seems so at ease with the openness. She can hardly tell him she was spooked by him or at least the changes he's causing in her life. She doesn't mix personal with work – Clint and his family don't count as they were the first to bring some semblance of peace to her life. She supposes there's a few similarities with Bruce given how he's helped ease her transition from SHIELD agent to full-fledged Avenger in the last few months. Her life doesn't consist of covers to hide behind, and that's okay because the team seem to accept her for who she is.
"What are you thinking about?"
"My life," she admits. The carnage. The deaths. The screams. They go hand in hand with her covers. "I've been around the globe and I've never seen any of it except for when I was working."
"Maybe you need a vacation."
"I wouldn't know how," she humours him.
"Neither would I," he agrees. "Maybe," he hesitates and gives her a once over. "Maybe, once this is over, we could figure it out, together."
The idea of being elsewhere is more appealing to her than she thought it would ever be. Even more so if Bruce were to come with her. If anyone had told her, way back when she was first assigned to watch him, Bruce Banner would become an integral part of her life she would have laughed at them.
Instead of answering she presses her lips to his cheek, lingering there, letting her lashes flutter against his skin. She pulls back a fraction to gage his reaction. His pupils dilate and his heart beat quickens. Her own thumps in her chest. She could easily distract him by kissing him. Distract herself too. It wouldn't solve anything except testing his restraint. She settles against him, her lips curving at the slight twitch he gives when her body curls into his. Her arm wraps around his, her fingers find the pulse point at his wrist. His breath jumps, their heads so close it hits the side of her cheek. Her expression softens fondly as she turns to coyly look at him except she gets caught in his gaze. Looking at her so intently her heart beats as rapidly as his. Their foreheads meet.
Warmth spreads through Natasha as she watches his eyes drop to where her hand still rests on his wrist, edging just beneath the cuff of his shirt. The angle is different but has no diminishing effect on the sensation she feels as she strokes the pad of her thumb over his skin gently. His eyes light up, his body remembering the touch. Someone gasps, she isn't sure who, maybe both. Her tongue licks her lower lip; her mouth feels dry. She pushes on regardless as she finishes the movement she used on the Hulk hours ago, trailing her fingers over his palm, flicking off the end of his.
They almost sink into each other as their mouths meet in a gasp. Unlike the sweet and tender touches they exchanged before, this escalates almost frantically, meeting meet over and over again as Bruce's hand cups her chin and his other winds around her back to keep her in place. Not that he needs to. One of her hands threads through his hair as she deepens the kiss. She loses track of how long they are entwined but eventually he pulls back, looking sheepish, ruffled and adorable. A few green flecks in his eyes tell her all she needs to know. She inwardly rejoices when he doesn't leave her embrace completely, instead tucks her into his side as his heart continues to beat steadily.
"I like this," she confesses after a moment, her voice hitching a tad, though it'd be impossible to hear if you didn't know what you were listening for.
"Why does that sound like a bad thing?" He sounds so shocked by her revelation, as if he doesn't believe anyone could feel that way about him.
"You make me want things," she says simply, her tone telling him she won't expand on her answer.
In the past, wanting things was dangerous and she refused to let herself fall into the trap of making attachments besides Clint –he brought that on himself really, she justifies– yet since the fall of SHIELD her usual mask of indifference has been useless. It's all of their faults.
Stark for actively taking on the role of shielding them from the public and the authorities, literally and figuratively by putting a roof over their heads and an army of lawyers to deal with the government. Steve for continuing his life-long mission of tracking and saving Barnes; Thor for being so gung-ho about missions. Bruce and dorkish way of checking on her and Natasha for finding it endearing and falling for it.
For first time in her life, fighting for something isn't enough, because if you fight for it you're willing to die for it, she needs something to live for. And for the first time she thinks she may have a chance at a life worth living for.
"How are you doing with all of this?" Tony asks as he approaches Bruce a day later in the rudimentary workshop –well at least compared to the lab at the Tower, most other businesses would be envious of the equipment in the 'workshop'.
"I'm okay, I'm just…it's not exactly reassuring," Bruce says as he shuts down the window displaying the data feedback from Veronica after she was deployed hours ago.
"Yeah, he knocked Red for six," Bruce's head snaps up in panic. He'd seen them all after he woke up, no one appeared to have any injuries, least of all Natasha. "I'm messing with you and it was a badly timed joke." Bruce shakes his head at Tony and turns back to his bag.
"At least I know where the line is," Tony continues, trying to appease Bruce. "Look it's going to take a while, we're in unchartered territory. Except the Big Guy is responding to her and that's a good sign."
Bruce looks away, not really ready to comprehend that piece of information.
"So how long have you been playing tonsil hockey with Romanoff?"
"What? No, no," Bruce replies, his head whipping around, eyes wide and panicked. "We're not like that…we're friends…we don't…Why would you think that?" he stumbles over his words, worried he'd done something to give them away, a lingering look, a smile, his heart beating too loud.
"Easy there buddy, it's nothing you did, which is what surprised me. Red kinda gave herself away, not what I expected from her," Tony explains with some disbelief. "She got a little protective before testing whatever that was out there yesterday."
"That doesn't mean anything Tony," Bruce tries to persuade him but knows it's useless now something has caught Tony's attention.
"Really? So, you two weren't making out on the roof last night?"
"What?!" Bruce feels the heat spread across his skin. Damn it. "You have cameras," he deduces a second later.
"Of course I have cameras," Tony crows with a smirk. "Apparently, bumbling scientist is Red's kink. Although you do have some smooth moves."
"Please tell me you don't have audio," Bruce begs.
Tony gives him a reproachful look. Of course, he has audio.
"I'm thinking of our privacy Tony."
"How much privacy do we have with each other? I've already seen your bare ass this weekend," Tony retorts.
Bruce's face burns. Once they left the roof, he walked her to her room. Her mind had been on other things. She let him stay though he didn't want to take advantage of her while distracted, he couldn't leave her like that. They lay on her bed, barely touching, and she started asking him questions, some playful, some serious. He answered them all and asked a few of his own, expressing his unveiled delight when she answered them. He fell asleep in the early hours of the morning, waking a few hours later to find her curled into his body, her head on his shoulder.
"She's got a history, but so do the rest of us and that's not a bad thing," Tony turns serious. Bruce blinks away his daydream. "Actually, and don't repeat this to Red, I think she's good for you."
"Then why do you give her such a hard time?" Bruce asks.
"Because it's our thing," Tony points out. "And in my defence, she gives as good as she gets."
"You don't have to keep testing her, I think she's proved herself by now Tony."
"Yeah, she has," his best friend agrees readily, then grimaces regretfully. "But I may have implied something different before the test."
"You screwed with her before she approached him," Bruce realises and Tony looks a little contrite at that. Bruce feels a surge of frustration toward the billionaire, true annoyance he's never felt before. "That's not fair on her Tony."
When he watched the tape back, the memories came flooding back. Unusual even for him, he never had such a visceral reaction to a recording of the Other Guy. They weren't just flashes like he's used to. He remembered the experience, heightening after Natasha appeared on screen. He felt the sensations the Hulk was enduring. Touch, sound. He could feel her hand on his arm, the sensory overload as she spoke to him. His heartbeat throbbed in his ears. He doesn't know what she said, the camera didn't pick up the audio but the intensity in her eyes stuck out in his memory. He felt her fear. He felt himself being pulled back and was expecting to see himself reappear on camera. And after how he reacted to her last night, he is starting to believe it's possible.
"I know, and I'll submit myself for the relevant tongue lashing and being her personal punching bag later. Except for the fact whatever she's trying to achieve is flawed, she's not going to be her infallible self when she performs it." Bruce starts to argue that's not the point but Tony cuts him off. "Think about it, she's going to be coming down from a fight herself. The adrenaline's pumping, she's still twitchy and itching to reach for a weapon, he takes that the wrong way and she's going to go Black Widow on him."
Bruce thinks about it for a long minute, before shaking his head. Tony has a valid point, but it doesn't make what he did was right. She's been as sincere as Tony has to help him. Whatever her reasons, her campaigning never wavered. "Both of you are trying to help me. She's not messing with Veronica," Bruce sighs giving Tony something to relate to. "Show her the same respect or I'll let her hack it and make you do the chicken dance."
Tony bobs his head to the side, the thought holding his attention for several seconds. "Hmm, we could get a whole set of cabaret back up dancers with the Iron Legion."
"You always make things weird," Bruce shakes his head at the image his friend created in his head. "Tony," he prompts noting how Tony overlooked agreeing with Bruce's request.
"Alright, alright, no messing with Red's lullaby," Tony finally ascents. A second later he holds up a finger to make a point. "But how would you feel if she copped a feel of the Big Guy?"
"She wouldn't do that," Bruce replies, baffled and amused by the idea. He mimics Tony's finger, still held mid-air. "You are the only one who would do that."
Tony chuckles at his side. "I really would if I ever got the chance, but she got there first." Pause. "Or at least that's what it looked like."
It had been odd to watch her touch the Hulk. How she manages to look at them as if they were the same yet differentiate between their personalities will likely elude him for a long time to come. However, he did note the gentleness with which the Hulk approached her. His protectiveness was a little worrisome and has the possibility to end in untold carnage if it happened in the field, yet it's a minor point and Bruce puts it down to his own need to find a flaw. He can't qualify it in words and he by no means trusts his other half on the basis of one trial but he definitely saw a side of the Hulk he hasn't seen before. One which trusts, one with more potential beyond rage and pain. One inspired by Natasha.