26: The Games We Play in Our Heads
Still holding his hand, Natasha smiled at Bruce as she lay there propped up on one elbow beside him. "Who's this sexy naked guy with the big brown eyes in my bed?" she teased.
"The one who's going to make sweet, passionate love to you and then pass out," he said with a grin as he rolled over to face her. She leaned forward and gave him a peck on the cheek then rolled over on top of him so her knees were astride his hips. "You have on way too many clothes," he said reaching up and unbuttoning her blouse, glad that his fingers were now small enough not to damage it out of clumsiness. "It's a good thing I'm around to take care of that. Whatever would you do?" he noted with a raised eyebrow and a teasing smirk.
Natasha laughed and slipped out of her now unbuttoned shirt. "And here I thought you were all tired out."
Without having to devote thought and energy to holding himself physically stable, Bruce realized he felt much less drained and the mental fog he'd felt creeping in around the edges of his consciousness was gone. His head didn't hurt like anything nearly as intense as a migraine, but the fatigue certainly could distract him and muddle his head. She leaned down over him and Bruce took her breasts in his hands, rubbing them gently as he traced her nipples through the beige lace of her bra with his thumbs before pulling her closer and reaching behind to unfasten the clasp. She straightened and pulled the straps off her shoulders and let the lingerie fall beside them.
Bruce pulled her closer again and began to kiss underneath her pale breasts. He worked his way slowly up to the rose-hued areolas. He breathed on them and her nipples began to contract and harden. "You're so, so beautiful," he murmured. Bruce moistened his lips and kissed her right nipple, tentatively licking with his warm tongue before taking her into his mouth and sucking gently. His right hand encompassed her left breast and firmly kneaded it.
Natasha moaned, "Oh, Lover, I've wanted you all day." With her weight supported on her right arm, she ran her other hand's fingers through his silver-shot curls, not wanting him to stop. Bruce sucked a little harder, leaving a bit of a bruise on her nipple before switching his attention to her left breast. He nuzzled and rubbed his face between the porcelain globes before turning and tonguing and sucking the left nipple. She bit her lower lip. "Oh, Bruce," she whimpered, "I need you. I need you badly."
He reached down to her hips, sliding his hand between their two bodies, and he began to rub gently between her legs on the outside of her cotton panties. "Do you need me here?" he asked, looking up into her face and taking in her expression.
"Yes, I need you there," she said, working a bit to control her breathing.
"Then let's get these delicates off. I want to eat you out before you apply anything," he said, thinking about the slightly bitter radiation-inhibiting foam. "Would that be all right?" She nodded as her breathing became more ragged. He then used both hands to grasp and rip her cotton panties above the hip on one side and then the other so that they came free of her, and he discarded them on the floor. Natasha smiled down at him. He was just full of surprises today. Bruce guided her so that she straddled his shoulders and could lean back on his chest. He stroked her thighs, so pale and strong, and planted kisses up to her nether lips. When he reached the pulse points on her thighs, Bruce carefully gnawed and applied pressure before moving higher to her labia. He blew on the red-gold hair and she shuddered, anticipating his touch. Bruce reached over her left thigh and slowly drew back the folds of her flesh with his fingers, breathing deeply and almost getting lost in the perfume of her. He used his other hand on her hips to guide her to his mouth. Bruce licked and probed her with his tongue, kissing her deeply, lovingly. She was so beautiful from every angle and in every way. Bruce was pleased to feel her react to his caresses and wanted nothing more than to have her happily squirming at his touch. He took his time teasing her a bit by blowing, vibrating his tongue, and rubbing in different spots.
Natasha shuddered, arching her back and grabbing his hand on her hip and his knee, which he'd drawn up to steady them both. She was trying to stay still, but he was making her want to writhe and grind her hips into his face. She buried a hand in his thick graying curls. Bruce always ran a little warm to begin with, but she could feel that he was heating up beneath her. His hot tongue was darting in and out of her, and he pushed his mouth further into her, pulling her down to get as deep as he could. His lips and his tongue worked her lower lips and continued to probe her interior. Natasha couldn't help herself, he had her so hot and wet that she let go and ground her hips into him, pulling his hair a bit. He responded by pressing into her harder and intensifying his attentions.
"Bruce!" she cried out. She was going to come. He quickly shifted and licked and sucked at her clitoris frantically until she was shaking and came in a trembling rush. He held her steady, easing her back on his chest and stroking her thighs. Fluids poured from her onto his chest. He brought both knees up to support her as she leaned back, held onto him, and continued to tremble, arching her back and gasping for air.
Bruce loved watching her even at this odd angle because she was always radiant with afterglow. He smiled to see she was beautifully flushed from her throat down past her breasts. "Ah, are you all right my russe Russe?" he asked with a smirk.
Natasha opened her eyes and snickered at his silly wordplay. "If I am flushed red, it's your fault, Banner," she said huskily and leaned forward to take her weight back onto her knees, so he could extricate himself.
"Guilty," Bruce said with a grin before he eased from underneath her. "I will take full responsibility for some of that orgasm." He sat up and grabbed the ruins of his shirt from the end of the bed and wiped the worst of the stickiness off his face and chest before turning to her.
With a ragdoll-like flop, Natasha leaned against him, "What a freaking orgasm! You've wrecked me again," she said as she curled up beside him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Bruce rubbed his forehead against hers. "Thank you, Love. I really needed that," she said. They grinned at each other, and Natasha kissed him full on the mouth. She could taste herself on Bruce's warm lips, and he smelled of her, too, her bright citrus to his subtler sage, and their muskiness together with something warm and earthy underneath.
As she kissed Bruce, Natasha prodded him with her tongue, and Bruce opened his mouth a little further to accommodate her as she slipped her tongue past his teeth. He groaned with pleasure as their tongues met and intertwined. Bruce ran his warm hands over her bare back and down her shapely flanks before drawing Natasha into his lap. "I'm so glad you're not squeamish about bodily functions," Bruce said when they finally broke from their kiss.
"As long as it smells and tastes this good, I have no problem with our bodies' functions," she replied while running her hands through his hair and across his chest. "Are you feeling all right? You seem a little hot."
"I think it's just the aftereffects of riding the line with the Liminality all morning. It'll settle out after a while. Don't worry," Bruce said, smiling at her reassuringly. "Biology can be beautiful, but it's seldom neat or sterile," he noted as he stroked her face and kissed her again. "We'll have to take this into the shower when you're ready."
She reached over and grabbed her phone to take another scan with the Geiger-Mueller app. "You are completely back to normal background level."
Bruce shook his head, "I'm glad I am. Don't get me wrong, but this vanishing radiation is starting to concern me."
"Hush," she said placing her index finger on his lips. "Put that conundrum at the back of your mind. I want all of you here with me, Lover."
"I am," he said and playfully caught her finger between his teeth.
Natasha pulled him closer via his teasing hold on her finger and kissed him along his jaw until he released her. She carefully shifted so she was straddling his lap and faced him.
"Wow, this is nice," he said, caressing her hips and running his hands down her thighs. "Maybe I better get a condom on?" he noted and carefully leaned over and pulled a condom package and a dose of neutralizing foam out of the nightstand and handed her the latter. He watched her use the applicator and deftly toss it into the wastebasket across the room. "You are such a jock, Nat. I love that," Bruce said with an appreciative chuckle.
She smirked provocatively and reached down between them to touch him. "How are you doing?" she asked as she gently cupped his balls and his body immediately responded.
"I'm getting there," Bruce replied. He was already stiffening up at her touch, so she began to stroke his swelling shaft as he rolled his hips. "Don't stop, Baby," he half growled half purred with a sigh as he arched his back and leaned backward to give her room. After a few more firm strokes from her, he retrieved the condom package he'd laid beside him. Natasha deftly took it from his hands and grinned as she tore the package open with her teeth and fitted the condom to his now throbbing hard on. She continued stroking him and he groaned. "Thank you, Natasha," he whispered. "How energetic do you want to be?"
"Let's start slow," she answered, and Natasha pushed her hips in closer to him as he guided his hard cock into her.
Bruce wrapped his arms around her, supporting her back and pulling her in tight as he penetrated her with smooth, slow thrusts. "You feel so good," he moaned.
"This is nice," she said in his ear as she ran her hands across his back, stroking his spine, sliding her hands across his broad shoulders and caressing his arms. She laid her head against his neck, and Bruce stroked her beautiful red hair. The feeling of their bodies rubbing together, skin on skin, warmth and heat was so pleasurable neither of them wanted to stop. He gently but steadily pushed into her, slowly picking up the pace bit by bit.
He soon moved his hands to her hips, gripping and massaging them and her backside, and then he began to thrust a little harder and faster using the mattress's springiness for some added bounce. She shifted to wrap her legs abound his waist, so she could work with his thrusts, sliding up and down, going deeper and harder. Soon, they were both panting, getting closer to orgasm. "Are you ready to come for me again, sweet girl?" Bruce asked.
"Oh, Bruce. Oh, Bruce," Natasha moaned as she buried her hands in his hair. "I'm almost there!"
He dug his fingers into her hips. "Come for me. Come for me, Natasha!" he urged her.
She threw her head back and her shuddering orgasm overtook her, "Bruce!"
He held her steady, wrapping his arms around her to support her and hold her to him. He drove one last deep thrust into her and let go a guttural moan, "Oh, Nat! Ohhh!"
Bruce immediately knew he was going Liminal, but he sensed there was something beyond that happening to him, something he could not control at all. "No!" he choked out and instantly felt himself drowning in a wave of panic, trying to avoid changing size or doing anything that might hurt Natasha. Instantly sensing something had gone wrong, Natasha swiftly rolled them both over toward the center of the bed and separated from him. Safely free from her body, Bruce curled himself into a fetal position, eyes dimly glowing and his muscles contracting spasmodically.
Natasha placed her hands on both sides of his face, "I'm here, Bruce, stay with me. Don't fight this. If it's going to happen, relax and let it happen. We're safe here. Breathe. Breathe with me." After a few tense moments without a response, his eyes snapped to meet hers. She had never seen them glow with this much intensity before. She couldn't distinguish between the irises and the whites for the brightness. He was also heating up. "Change if you need to Bruce. I'm safe. We're both safe. This is nothing to be ashamed of. You're adjusting to something new."
Bruce realized he had been holding his breath, so he let the air escape from his lungs and concentrated on inhaling and exhaling. In… . Out… . In… . Out… . He shuddered and willed himself to open up his inner senses. He was sure Hulk was not stirring, not yet anyway. Knowing he wouldn't have to deal with the Big Guy made him feel a little better. Why was it so hot in here? The blood was pounding in his ears, but he tried to listen to Natasha's voice and let her become his anchor, "We're okay. It takes time and practice to get proficient at anything." He groaned and struggled to turn over onto his back. He felt uncomfortably hot and flushed. Suddenly, the sweat was pouring off him. A feeling like an electrical pulse started playing up and down his spine and scorching new paths down his limbs. Natasha helped him reposition himself on his back as a new rush of fire rolled through him. The first wave had attacked his neural track while this one flamed through his muscles. It started warm, but soon became impossibly hot. Next, came the bones, which seemed to smolder, trying to take in the sparks and fire. He could feel his core pulling in the energies, struggling to contain the overload.
His eyes were still glowing, but he held her gaze steadily again. "Relax, Bruce. I'm here." He finally felt a warm swell of green engulf him and he thought of floating. Like a tide it rose and carried him away. He pictured himself in a Marc Chagall painting, detached from all earthly connections except for what he felt for this beautiful woman holding his hand and speaking his name. Natasha, my Natasha. He tried to say her name out loud, but it came out as a dry croak. In a few labored heartbeats, he had stopped fighting. The bitter, yellow tang that was panic was gone, but now he was drifting. It was warm here, very warm. His eyes wanted to close. He was either very light or very heavy. Maybe it was just his eyelids that were weighed down like there were coins on them.
"Don't lose the coins. You'll need those," his father warned as they waited by the river.
"I don't want them, Dad."
"They're your birthright. You have to keep them. Don't be foolish."
"Please, take them back. They're not mine."
"You're such an ungrateful little monster… ."
"I'm not little. I haven't been little for a long time."
Beside him was the great green horse out of the other Chagall painting he liked so much. Bruce climbed on its broad back. The horse looked at his father. "He doesn't need your coins, old man. I'm here to take him back."
Bruce dropped the coins at his father's feet. "I'm sorry. They're yours, not mine. I won't use them. I'm not you." The horse snorted its approval and quickly turned, tossing its head before trotting off at a steady pace. Bruce didn't even think about looking back. The sun was so bright and hot he couldn't tell where they were going. It was like a winter whiteout that his eyes couldn't tolerate, but it was hot, burning hot. "Where are we going?" Bruce finally asked.
"Back," said the horse.
After a long while, Bruce asked, "What's your name?"
"I don't have one," replied the horse.
"You look like a Marc Chagall."
"Please," snorted the horse, "we're almost there."
"Tony would think this is really funny," Bruce noted. "You know, the song lyrics and all. America, right? 'I've been through the desert…'?"
Bruce wondered if a horse could be vexed because that's what it sounded like as it gave a sigh of complete exasperation. "Okay, sorry," Bruce said to the horse.
"It's okay. I, uh, I need to tell you something," said the great green beast, looking over its left shoulder and suddenly sounding a bit shy and hesitant.
"Okay, what is it?" Bruce asked as he patted the horse's neck.
"I want to tell you I'm sorry," said the horse, now sounding embarrassed.
"Sorry? Sorry for what?" Bruce asked feeling a little lost and squinting, trying to get a look at the horse's face.
"Uh, you know how when you upgrade a computer's software, sometimes you have to shut it down and reboot the system?"
"Yah, why?"
"Normally, I just tweak a little at a time around the edges, small stuff that helps with safety and efficiency. This time I was a little more ambitious. It hurt you. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt anyone. Things should be okay now."
"So, you're apologizing for . . .?"
"Bringing you here like this. I should have been more careful. I'm sorry. Look, I'm not good at social interactions. It's not like I get out much."
"Okay, it's all right. No harm done." Bruce patted the horse's shoulder, trying to reassure the beast. "You came and brought me back, right? I feel okay now. Thank you. Things were about to get really awkward back by the river."
The horse sighed in relief. "I'm glad you're okay with it. One day, I think you'll be happy with what I did. I do try to look after you. That just leaves one other thing I need to ask you."
"Sure," said Bruce, trying to figure out what the horse could have done. Thinking was making him feel woozy.
"I would really like to have a bookshelf," the horse said quite solemnly.
"A bookshelf?" Bruce was completely surprised by this. What would a horse need a bookshelf for?
"Yah, I'm asking you the boon of a bookshelf. You have a bunch of bookcases with shelves. I'd just like to have one shelf. I don't care which one," explained the horse.
"You mean like one in the guest bedroom or the living room or the lab and not here?"
"Yah, one in the guest bedroom would be perfect!"
"Is that all? You don't want a shrubbery or anything?" Bruce joked because of the absurdity of all this.
"No, I really don't need a shrubbery," said the horse quite seriously.
"You just want an empty bookshelf? Nothing on it?" Bruce asked, trying to figure out the odd request.
"I'd be okay if you put some books you like on it, but nothing too complicated like the professional journals you read. I like nice books with pictures."
"Oh, okay. I get it now," Bruce said as it finally dawned on him who this must be. "Don't worry, I can do this for you."
"Thank you! A bookshelf and some books would make me very happy." Bruce thought the horse sounded quite pleased. They had slowed down and now they came to a halt. "We're back," the horse announced. It all still looked blindingly white to Bruce, but he thought it had gone from glairing sunlight to more of a white fog a little softer around the edges. The heat seemed to have back off as well.
"Okay, thanks," Bruce said a bit sadly. "Will I see you again?"
The horse snorted, "Up to you. I'm always here." Bruce was about to ask where "here" was, but he didn't. "I don't want to rush you," the horse said, "but people are worried about you."
"I guess I need to go then," Bruce said a little reluctantly, "but I do want to talk to you again." He leaned forward over the horse's withers and swung his leg back over its broad green rump, so he could lower himself to the ground. However, as Bruce slid off, his feet never hit anything solid. He was falling and the horse became an olive drab helicopter framed against a starry night sky. Bruce could almost watch himself as he waved good-bye to brave, dark-haired Betty and her glowering father as he fell. He remembered that it had hurt briefly when he hit the ground.
What had once been a raw gaping wound was now only a dull ache. He didn't really think about it until a rain was imminent, and there it was in his bones. He had done the right thing at the time. He was at peace with it. Then, for a moment, he understood it. He understood that as his bones expanded, their structure became more porous and the radiation was released, converting to heat and reversing the polarity of the ions, which attracted the dark matter that in turn supplied the mass that . . .
"Man, you're impossible," the horse said, sounding a bit relieved. "I guess I can't leave you alone here without you getting lost," muttered the big green animal as he nibbled Bruce's left ear with his warm, velvety muzzle, puffing his grassy hot breath into Bruce's face. Bruce noticed the beast's eyes were a deep dark brown as the horse stared at him up close. "Wake up. We're back," he snorted. It occurred to Bruce that his therapist Cecily was going to have a field day if he told her about this.
Bruce sputtered as the cold water poured off him starting at the top of his head and running down his body in torrents. "I think he's coming around," said Tony. Bruce opened his eyes. He had his left arm around Tony's shoulders and Natasha was supporting him on the other side. Tony was barefoot and had on jeans and a t-shirt while Nat had on one of Bruce's own shirts and the striped boxers he'd nearly destroyed earlier. Nat and Tony were almost as soaked as he was. He himself was, of course, very naked, but glad to note someone, probably Natasha, had removed the used condom. Thank God for small miracles. His muscles ached like he'd forgotten to stretch out or warm up for a week or just started some new routine that aggravated new sets of muscles that had never been used before, except it was from head to toe. His scalp and toes even hurt.
Bruce positioned his feet to support his own weight. As he shifted and tried to stand, Nat voiced her objection, "Bruce, stay still. We need to keep you under the water until your temperature comes down."
"Wouldn't it make more sense for me to sit on the shower bench, so you two don't get hypothermia?"
"Only if you don't pass out again and do a face-plant on the floor," she said.
"I'm feeling better. I can sit up on my own," he insisted.
Tony looked at Natasha, "Let's give it a try. I want to get the gamma spectrometer and some other equipment set up in the lab, so we can make a more detailed scan."
"Fine, let's move him," she said. "Friday, what is Dr. Banner's current core body temperature?"
"It's 101.6 degrees Fahrenheit. Down four degrees from his initial reading thirty-five minutes ago."
Bruce was able to support himself without much assistance from either of them. He settled back on the bench, and Natasha turned on the "rainforest" showerhead above him, which they very seldom used. Bruce thought it was a vast improvement over the "Biblical Deluge" setting he'd woken up under.
With Bruce safely ensconced, Tony gave Natasha a weighty look before turning to Bruce. "This is going to be all right, Bud. I think you're through the worst of it," and he gave Bruce a quick shoulder squeeze before he disappeared out the door. A few seconds later, they heard the outer hall door shut.
"So, what the hell happened?" Bruce asked Natasha as the water continued to rain down on him.
Natasha pushed her damp hair out of her face, "We're not sure. It appears that your temperature spiked as you were going into a Liminal state right after we had sex. Do you remember anything?"
"I remember you talking me through it, but I think I passed out," Bruce said.
"At first, I thought you might have had a stroke."
"No, I can move everything on both sides," he said flexing his hands and wiggling his toes. "No slurring of speech or facial paralysis, right?" He ran his hands over his face.
"Right, none. That's good. I had Friday get Tony. Luckily, he was in the lab and got here pretty fast. He thinks someone might have slipped you the Extremis virus. We're still not sure. That's why he's going to get the equipment set up. Also, we decided to call in Helen Cho."
Bruce grimaced, "I wish you hadn't bothered Helen. She'll have to report this. Is she already on the way?"
Natasha sighed, "Yes, she's coming with one or two of her assistants."
"Okay, we'll deal with it," he noted with a sigh of his own. He reached above his head and turned the water off. "Friday?"
"Yes, Dr. Banner."
"Please tell Mr. Stark I'm ambulatory. I'll put on some clothes and meet him in the lab in about 30 minutes."
"Consider it done, Doctor."
"Thanks, Friday. Come on, Nat. Let's get you out of those wet things," he said as he gingerly rose to his feet. "How long was I out?"
"A little over 45 minutes all together," she replied as she stepped to his side, ready to support him if he faltered.
"It didn't seem like it was that long."
"Oh, it was plenty long enough," she said with an audible catch in her voice.
He pulled her into a hug. "I am so sorry, Nat. I tried to do like you said, but there was something else happening that I could not control. It might have involved the Liminality, but I know something very different happened."
"Don't scare me like that again, you big dumb . . ." she buried her face in his shoulder and hugged him fiercely.
"It's okay," he said stroking her russet-red hair and pressing a kiss on the top of her damp head as he held her. "I'm fine. We'll find out what happened." He held her like that for several minutes, both shaking in silence. Neither of them were loud criers. They'd both learned very young that it got them too much attention that they didn't want if they let their hurts have voice. So they both breathed in and breathed out, in and out, and eventually they both quit shaking and felt a little better. Bruce unbuttoned the shirt Natasha had hastily thrown on and stopped to chuckle over the commandeered boxer shorts. "Those poor things have had one hell of day," he noted.
Natasha gave him an exasperated look as she kicked the clothing off. "Bruce Banner, master of understatement."
"Gee, thanks," he said as he grabbed her a fluffy towel from the linen closet and wrapped it around her.
"Bozhe moi, you're completely dry, Bruce," she said, running her hands over his back. Friday, what is Dr. Banner's temperature?"
"He appears to have stabilized at 101.2 degrees."
"I feel fine, Natasha. If it's just a fever, we'll see what it is. I've always run a half-degree higher than average. Let's just go ahead and get dressed," Bruce said as he retrieved the dirty clothes from the floor and deposited them in the laundry. He then used one of the soiled towels to mop up the prints and puddles.
Natasha followed Bruce into the laundry room; she watched him and shook her head, "You are either one fine actor or you are actually feeling okay now."
"Natasha, physically, I feel fine right now. I was sore, but the more I move, the better it feels." He opened the dryer and looked inside. "Do you want some sweats? That's what's in the dryer," he added, pulling clothes out into a basket and putting the wet load from the washer into the machine.
"I think I'll just re-dress in what I had on," Natasha said, continuing to watch him with befuddlement. She trailed him into the bedroom, and they both did some folding as they put on their clothes. She noted that he put on a pair of his uniform-type pants with an old blue pullover, which was probably a good idea since they had no clue what would happen next.
After replacing her shredded underwear with a new pair, Natasha collected her clothes from earlier and put them back on. Bruce's ruined shirt she threw in the trash with her panties. If it had had his blood or semen on it, she'd have put it in the biohazard container to be burned; otherwise, Bruce insisted on washing those sort of "contaminated" things separately, despite every "normal" or "safe" or "acceptable" reading they took.
"Well, I'll be damned," remarked Bruce as he slipped his feet into the loafers he had worn earlier. "Just a little looser fit. I'll have to remember this brand the next time I buy some shoes."
"C'mon you clothes horse, Tony will be champing at the bit," Natasha urged.
"It's funny you'd say that. While I was out, I dreamed about this big green horse from Marc Chagall's The Blue Circus. Gee, it was weird. I didn't know where I was, but he carried me back after my dad tried to make me keep some coins that weren't mine. I fell from a helicopter like I did over Harlem. The horse told me he was sorry and woke me up. At the beginning I was holding your hand and floating like in one of those earlier Chagall paintings. The horse said it didn't have a name, but it brought me back to you."
"You are such a dork, even when you're dreaming," she said affectionately, brushing the curls back from his forehead. She slipped her hand in his and pulled him up from his seat on the edge of the bed where he'd been putting on his socks and shoes.
"Just a second," he said, "I'll get the medical bag out of the second bedroom." Bruce retrieved the old leather bag because they were no doubt going to have to take samples to analyze if they were going to figure out what had happened. As he turned to leave, he hesitated and set the bag down on the bed. He sometimes used the room as a study. There was a medium-sized desk and one wall was covered in built-in hardwood bookshelves. He hadn't completely filled them in yet; in fact, there were some boxes from long-term storage still stacked in the corner, waiting to be unpacked. He didn't have any of his first books: those had been lost in the confusion and chaos after his mother's death and never made the move with him to his aunt's house. He studied the labels on the boxes and found one that said, "coffee table books". Bruce pulled it out and opened it up, selecting a couple of nature and landscape photograph collections and another with pictures taken by the Hubble Telescope. He studied the shelves and selected one about chest high and moved the old science textbooks placed there to a different section and replaced them with the others he'd just picked out. He scrutinized the shelf for a moment, rubbing his chin, and then took a notecard from the desk and wrote "Hulk's" on it with a marker and placed it on the shelf. On a whim, he added a pack of Post-it Notes and one of his nicer oversized pens next to it. He pressed his lips together and nodded, "This will do for now." He grabbed the doctor's bag up from the bed and closed the door as he left.
Natasha came out of the bathroom with her hair still damp but in a little less disarray. "Found what you needed?" she asked.
"Yah," he said, "for now at least." He intertwined his fingers with hers, held them up to his lips and kissed them. She still looked a little worried in the depths of her eyes, so he smiled and waggled his eyebrows at her. That always worked when she got too concerned about him. Natasha finally smiled and shook her head. Goofy solved a lot of problems around here. "Time to go," he said, and they headed out the apartment door together. They walked down to the main lab, holding hands and gently "on purpose" bumping hips and shoulders as they went.