A/N; Skip the first border to avoid adult content.

Thank you for reading and commenting!

With the raised volume of the air through the ventilation, Alex has a blanket over his head, tail extended outward. The skittish shepherd remains far more interested in hunting the remaining flesh on his bone then interrupting his alphas in their unpredictably calm morning.

Natasha bites at her lower lip with her head shifting gently and over the wrinkled pillow. Her eyes close for each of Bruce's kisses that latch onto the sensitive skin at the side of her neck. He stays carefully laid beside her while his gentle hand holds at her waist.

The red head throws her head back in defeat when he moves from his place beside her. With the sudden absence of his warmth she talks above a whisper;

"Where are you going..."

Bruce pushes up to his elbow as he prepares to stand up from their bed;

"To work...?"

"Cute. You thought you were going to kiss and run."

Natasha clenches her jaw, mustering up her strength to rotate over her husband and pin him underneath her frame. With a bit of surprise over her sudden strength he settles to avoid her injuries.

She presses her hands into his shoulders as she lowers them both, nuzzling his cheek to reciprocate his previous acts of affection. Natasha slides her hands onto his torso and tugs at his gray t-shirt with a firm grip.

Banner teases his hands toward her hips, careful over her bandaged left side. He tilts his head in between her constant kisses to grip at her thigh for a moment of her focus;

"You feel soft-"

Natasha cuts him off with her mouth aggressively pressing over his. She incites a subtle moan from her frustratingly calm spouse with a toothy tug over his lower lip. Their eyes peel open in unison as she takes a deep inhale. His hand has moved up to her back, safely holding her within his warm embrace. With a playful tilt of her head she traces her forefinger along the collar of his shirt;

"Do you need this?"

With a knowing grin he takes her question as a command and consents to her aiding in it's removal. Her fingers eagerly reach for his bare chest, feeling his dilated eyes full of longing take in every inch of her.

Romanoff lifts her hands over the sides of his face as he wraps his arms to pull her closer. Their lips connect, body's greedily colliding with warmth and passion.

His warm hands stroke her frame, her legs hugging tightly over his hips while her own hands venture down his shoulders. He lifts a playful brow as he addresses the bottom hem of her shirt;

"Are you going to play fair?"

Her mouth contorts into a smirk, securing a firm grip over his mouth with her own;

"Lock up the other guy with your calming serum and I'll play whatever game you want."

"I am calm."

With the gentle grinding of her hips she chuckles over his moan. She's proud of her ability to completely break into his resistant shell;

"Not for much longer..."

He groans over her words and her complete attention. With a slight tremble in his hand to reaches for the drawer. Natasha aides in the process, lining up his syringe.

She tilts her head, able to supervise the needle as he finds a vein;

"This never ceases to be a mood killer."

"I'm sure he'd agree."

Natasha rolls her eyes over his dry humor. He breathes calmly over their necessary procedure, the serum kicking in to calm the ever present rage monster living within him. The doctor takes his time to recap the needle, cut off by Natasha who grabs and tosses it aside eagerly;

"You're all put together?"

"Yeah...?"

"Good because I'm about to destroy you-"

He maintains his composure, focusing on her part of the bargain as he catches her hands gently;

"Shirt."

She scoffs, "Watch it, I'm calling the shots."

"That's what you thought."

He carefully moves to support her frame and flips her underneath. She allows him to take control with a sweet smile, eager to have his warm hands explore her every inch.

He hovers over her, soft eyes meeting hers, shifting toward her bandages shoulder. She's beautiful to him, inside and out.

Natasha holds her focus over his pause with her own mind racing over his gentle cocoa stare. He's her everything;

"What's wrong Vrach?"

He shakes his head with a nervous grin, curl falling above his brow;

"Nothing."

She loses her breath as he suddenly reattaches his mouth onto hers, Natasha's arms wrapping around his neck and his around her waist to draw one another close.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"And you believe her, one hundred percent..."

Bruce lifts his shoulders over Jennifer's tentative stare. She lifts the edge of her coffee mug as she mulls over the little information Bruce shares with her. Her cousin stands upright in the communal space with a focus meant to convince her to drop the current investigation.

Jennifer twists her jaw with one final push, "I was hot on a trail...you're not just being a forgiving pacifist right?"

With a heavy exhale he repeats himself for the second time;

"Natasha says it's under control. If something needs to be addressed it'll get addressed."

Without breaking her focus she studies his anxious nature for a twitch, a smirk, a polygraph worthy spike in his calm tone. Ever the peace keeper, she silently wishes he'd cause a revolution for once.

The lawyer crosses her legs in her human form, content to sit back and quietly sip her morning coffee;

"Okay."

With his arms crossed and a knowing eye roll he moves to take the chair beside her. She shrugs and offers a smile;

"You'll take care of my daughter?"

"You could stay."

She tilts her head thoughtfully;

"I don't know how long she'll want to stay, but you better be sure I'll be checking in frequently. I want every detail."

He grins over her protective concern, "I know."

She shifts her mug, rotating her ankle. With a concerned focus she stares into her almost emptied cup;

"You'll keep me updated on her progress and what her abilities are."

Bruce tugs at his fingers over her easily transferable nervous energy;

"Of course."

"She's dramatic sometimes. She can't focus. There are days Doc, there are days. She can't focus in school but she excels whenever she's challenged. Lucy is so talented and so sweet. She really is a good kid and I am so proud of her, Bruce."

He grins over the clear pride Jennifer has for her daughter. There is a tug at his heart over her words, a dry swallow to push away any envy;

"I'm happy for you Jen."

"Morning Lucy."

The girl groans upon her entrance, her thick pouting lips puffed from a shot to the face. Banners eyes widen over her slow walks and battered frame;

"What happened!"

Lucy shifts her stare and settles at the table. Burying her head she grumbles in her arms;

"Clint made me the paintball target."

Jen twists her mouth with a restrained chuckle and rubs her back;

"She's fine. You've had worse baby."

Lucy lifts her head, eager to share her story;

"Okay, so like, he's going off about how I'm not calm, correcting me during the game while everyone is shooting at me! And then! He says I'm too driven by emotion because I wanted to take out my attackers rather then the nearest opponent so that was fun."

"Emotionally fueled huh? That doesn't sound familiar," Jennifer shakes her head.

Lucy narrows her glaring focus over her mother's sarcasm, "As much as I wanna be, I'm not you ma."

Bruce tucks a hand under his chin, elbow over the table;

"What do you think of Barton."

Lucy nods, "I was really hesitant at first but I think he's cool."

Jennifer scoffs over her word choice, "Hesitant?!"

"Mom-!"

"You were adamant!"

Bruce lowers his head with a smirk, softly interjecting, "No emotions here."

Lucy slaps her open palm onto the table over a thought, "No! You wanna see me fired up Uncle B?Let's talk about school!"

He twists his cheek, sharing an eager glance with his cousin;

"Do share."

"I mean it has nothing do with education- cause. But. Anyways! There's this guy who's pissing me off. He keeps trying to flirt with sweet, kind, gentle, pretty, trusting, Izabella! He's sizing her up with his diamond eyes. She's too kind to tell him to go, piss off. Like! Like, but then he's also got his eyes all over my stuff-"

Jennifer narrows her focus, "Excuse me?"

Lucy clarifies, "My phone. He was googling me or something to figure stuff out about me."

Bruce interjects with a nervous grin and a protective, paternal fire hidden underneath his soft expression, "He likes Izabella, huh."

Lucy rolls her eyes, "Oh! Hmm! And you wouldn't like him."

"Hmm."

"Like, she could do so much better then this dirtbag. He thinks he so hot, which he is so NOT- like okay, he dances and his eyes are blue or whatever."

Banner reaches for his buzzing device, holding it at a distance to read his message;

"It's Tony. He needs me to analyze a new compound. I should go help him."

Jennifer taps his arm as he stands, "We'll talk later? Tomorrow?"

"Sure."

"I'm leaving Monday Doc! Make some time for me."

Lucy gives her 'peace sign,' "Later Uncle B."

Walters shifts in her chair with a full focus on her daughter;

"Okay! I have a proposition for our Saturday my dear."

Lucy shifts with equal enthusiasm, playfully bouncing off her mom's energy, "I'm listening."

"Firstly, are you still interested in a nose piercing?"

The girls eyes widen with excitement, "Are you serious...?! For real?"

"I figure if I don't take you or you'll find a way to do it yourself."

The girls shrugs over the thought, "Probably accurate."

Jennifer exhales heavily, teaching into her pocket;

"Second, I figured as long as we're in New York, why not, get a little...'Wicked'."

"What,' Lucy reaches across the table to snatch her mother's raised tickets for her broadway show, 'Mom! You rock!"

The lawyer offers a playful bow, content to see the smile over her daughters face and to receive the hug she's quick to offer.

Jennifer pauses momentarily over her daughter's inflamed lip. She shuts her eyes, briefly triggered over an ingrained mental image. She's 5 years old again, watching her battered 9 year old cousin fight for his life on a hospital bed.

With a pinch to her own wrist she brings herself back;

"Let's...get you a bit of a makeover beforehand so the ushers don't think I abuse my child."

Lucy scoffs jokingly, oblivious to the seriousness in Jennifer's remark, "Oh yeah, third row back, so abused. How about no makeup and I just tell them I'm a new Avenger?"

"Right. Because letting my 15 year old daughter get her nose pierced and learn how to fight isn't abusive."

"It's not! I wanna do it! It makes you cool."

"You're going to be the death of me, I feel it,' she stands with an extended hand to help her daughter up, 'Let's talk about that boy."

The girls stand side by side, arms wrapped around each other's shoulder. Lucy taps her mother's;

"Let's not."

Jennifer lowers her volume, "Just one question?"

"Shoot."

"Is this a; Fiyero, Elphaba, Glinda triangle, or a Maureen, Joanne, Mark type situation."

Lucy scoffs with a dodge over her mother's roundabout question;

"Why does it matter."

"It doesn't baby."

Focusing on the broadway portion she responds boldly, "You act as though he would earn the role of Mark or Fiyero. I call him Ram Sweeney. And like, Izabella isn't Glinda or Maureen. She's way more like, a Cosette or an Iliza Schuyler."

Jennifer bites her cheek with her brown eyes fixated on Lucy, "You know what I meant."

"Pfft,' Lucy forces a laugh, 'You act like I have time to think about a relationship. I'm busy dancing mom. And now I have to learn about how to shoot my bow. He's a jerk and she's...well. Izzy is my sister and that's that."

She analyzes her daughters movement, offering a reassuring smile;

"Okay."

The teenager lowers her focus over her mother's clear knowledge, rolling her eyes with her cheeks flushed pink;

"Mom,' she waits for Jen to pause and give her full attention, 'You're my best friend. Like. You'd be the first to know if I liked somebody."

She chuckles, careful not to share her emotion in a playful way, "Well I should hope so. Hurry up and get ready, I need to tell your dad about the piercing-"

"I could just send daddy a picture when it's already done. Otherwise he's gonna talk you out of it."

"Lucile Elaine! Nobody talks me out of anything!"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Natasha moves to block Clint in his restrained attack, moving slow and yet more then she should. With a bit of banter between the twosome, the archer agrees to a tussle.

Romanoff pauses to roll her shoulder, stretching her neck with a cringe. Clint takes his breath with his hands over his hips. She grumbles;

"I told Bruce about Olga."

His eyes widen, "You did what? Why?"

With a groan she rotates her head and moves to take a stance to the dismay of the archer;

"Why not."

Barton swings forward with a lack of focus that lands him on his back;

"Because! Olga helps at the center."

"And?" She knocks him back with a kick.

"And, no offense, he can't exactly handle undercover operations without acting suspicious. He's going to draw attention."

Natasha pants over her push and pull, pausing over an ache at her hip;

"Which draws out our other mole because Olga is terrified of the Hulk."

Clint freezes over the realization, lifting a hand in surrender over her stance;

"Oh, that's a good theory. Draw out 2 or 3 who could take down a hulk?"

She reaches downward to help her friend to his feet;

"I'm counting on it."

Barton shakes his head and moves toward the water in the small gym space;

"Does he know he's the prey?"

She sits at the edge of the mat, laying on her back to stretch;

"Not, exactly."

Clint nods in the impending awkward silence, offering a cool bottle she's quick to lay over her forehead. He sits beside her and stares off into the distance.

She turns her head, bare heel digging into the mat;

"You have a better idea?"

"Better then completely throwing away all trust in your marriage?"

She rolls her eyes over the truth in his dry comment, "I think we're getting better-"

"-Throw away all you worked for because you can't communicate."

Natasha sits up with her hand reaching for her opposite elbow;

"I can't tell him everything on this. There's no break is there."

"Too much pressure in life consistently getting in the way of happy ending."

"That's, on the nose."

Barton stands, prepared to return to their wrestle;

"Doesn't take a genius Nat. I don't talk either."

Natasha scoffs and stands to join her friend, "No way."

She lunges over his swing and latches onto him carefully to take the advantage. With a gentle release the assassin lowers her focus, her cheeks flushed of their color. Barton turns to catch Natasha in her fall forward, hand over her head;

"Nat?"

She groans over the disappointment in herself and the sudden illusion of a nearby cliff. He sets her at the bench and lifts her nearby water;

"We're pushing you too hard."

Romanoff takes a sip and shakes her head. Her eyes gloss over as she prepares her explanation;

"It's the waking nightmares it's not my healing process."

He listens carefully with a drifting stare. Natasha lifts her good shoulder with an assumption she needs clarification on;

"How is Maria doing? She texted and said she'd be out for a while? Some kind of ...bed rest."

The archer responds coldly, reaching for a cloth to dab over his forehead.

"Yeah. Kind of,' He replies matter-of-factly, 'I'm surprised she texted after we agreed not to. Sorry. What else did she say?"

"Just that."

"Oh."

The red head fixates forward over the lack of emotion in his voice. She clenches her jaw tightly and breathes steadily in the quiet. Her head lifts in the silence, refusing to share emotion in return;

"You act like I can't handle these conversations when the tower has been a nursery for the past two years."

He smirks with a shoulder lift, "When you're the one who wants it most, I'm not going to rub it in your face."

She returned her best friend's smirk;

"I've embraced my alternate happily ever after."

"Yeah well,' he scoffs brazenly over his impending pointed comment, 'try not to lose it."

She forces a sarcastic head tilt with a knowledge of Barton's current situation within her grasp. She wants to punch a wall. Not angry over the obvious decision they refuse to share, but over the ability to choose. She swallows hard and takes a stance in preparation to release her fury.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"You can't force it Riley, let it happen naturally."

The young girl throws her hands into the air, frustrated with her invisibility attempts. Banner offers a loving expression and softens his tone;

"You'll get it."

She nods in the center's laboratory, letting the doctor print his tests and offer a joke;

"Hey. Your chart kind of looks like a cardinal today."

The blonde takes her print out, rotating the page to see her favorite animal, "And my speed is getting better."

"Agility is up by 20%."

She nods over seeing the positives, her eyes glowing with pride over the improvements.

Riley lifts her page over a knock at the door, eager to share her news with Stark;

"I'm up by 20% on my athletic abilities Mr. Tony!"

The engineer grins and offers her a high-five;

"Hey that's great. Good job kiddo. How was the new obstacle course?"

She shrugs, "Before or after Brody laser focused the top of it?"

Tony dramatically slaps his hand to his face, trying to incite a laugh from the 9 year old;

"What?! I worked hard on that!"

She shakes her head, "I mean...yeah. I know."

Bruce shakes his head, "The damage isn't that bad. It's just the roof of the third story."

Riley giggles, "Brody is so bad at focusing."

Banner points toward his friend, "So is Tony."

"Wow,' the engineer shakes his head and waits for the girl to leave before continuing, 'Can we lock the door for a second?"

He agrees and adjusts his screen to save the young girls spreadsheet for the day;

"Is it Tasha?"

Tony can't help but offer an empathic smirk over the way only he has consistently said her name for the past few years, "Yeah. It's, 'Tasha'..."

Bruce waits eagerly for both the analysis and the results on his hypothesis left in the lab of the tower. Stark hesitantly extends his folder toward the doctor who snatches the papers eagerly;

"Don't freak out."

Bruce lifts the glasses to his face as he scans the pages. His heart drops, a numbing sensation taking it's affect. He removes his glasses, already tired of the words in front of him. With a voice above a whisper he raises the folder with a hint of disappointment in his voice;

"That's it?"

Stark shrugs, "Look buddy, I'm doing all I can."

Bruce raises a hand to clam the agitated engineer despite his own person frustrations. Putting aside the redundancy in the information, the scientist offers a reassuring expression, "It's alright. Can you take over training for the night? So I can focus on cortex stimulation within the brain and further break down these contributing factors?"

Stark shuts his eyes over the disappointment in himself, "Yeah, sure."

"Thanks." Bruce offers a sincere expression of gratitude and moves to the door and makes his way for the exit.

Tony turns in the empties lab, disappointed to be left alone as he swipes through the files. Within moments he chuckles over a random note falling from the sky, only to find Russian characters he'd never learn to read. With a wide eye he turns toward the opened door. Izabella proudly holds a key in her hand and allows her wide smile to turn speculatory in it's reveal;

"Where is Vrach Banner?"

Tony drops his vague expression, letter in hand as he dramatically uses his hands, "Oh, he had um. He had a thing."

The girl raises a suspicious eyebrow, "A 'thing'..."

"Yeah."

She questions him with her stare down, "He never miss training with me."

"Yeah...well. I'm doing the training today so are you ready to warp?"

"Where's Bruce,' Natasha intrudes with a sharper tone, aggressive in her peripheral search, 'Did you send him on a work mission?"

"Ha! No, no. He went home to analyze your brain. God help him."

She crosses her arms, regretfully leaving their most favored student;

"Izabella is at a warping rate of 6 items per second. Bruce said she'd be at 8 by today so make that happen?"

Izabella grins over the spotlight being put onto the engineer. With the lift of her playful hand she emits an intimidating spark on top of her fingertips, giggling over the evil in her initial stare down. She chuckles;

"I just kidding."

Tony shakes his head, unaware of their procedures for the young teen;

"Ok! Great! What do I do?"

Natasha releases an exhale and holds her head as Izabella moves toward the screen;

"No worry. I help you."

Romanoff turns back toward the door, ready to exit;

"I'll take that note back, the one Izabella warped down here."

Stark chuckles, "Why? Don't want me to read it?"

Natasha dodges the abrupt swing open and spots an eager and equally confused Brody as they door nearly misses her;

"Where's the doc?"

Izabella shakes her head, typing away at the computer to open her own file;

"He had a thing."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Bruce makes his way down the hall, adjusting his coat as he passes the group of young boys entertaining themselves with a card game. He pauses at the entrance, taking a step back to spot Olga on supervision. With a subtle snarl he moves closer, resting his weight against the door frame;

"You can go Olga, Natasha is upstairs."

The woman shakes her head with a friendly grin, "It is no problem. I don't mind staying to help close."

"We've got it."

The accidental abrupt snap in his tone triggers her eyebrow raise. She holds her smile, making her way closer to the door;

"Looks like you're heading out...?"

"We're more then covered,' he stammers, 'and it's a Saturday night. You can go home."

With a lift of her small chin she focuses on the doctor. Holding a forced grin she makes her way past with an extra foot in between them so as not to brush against his shoulder.

The small group of boys look up, aware of the tension in the room. Garret offers a smirk with the wave of his cards;

"Is Hulk finally planning on making an appearance? I'll chase him."

His younger friend stands up, "No! I've asked him first! Didn't I Bruce? Didn't I ask first?!"

Banner offers a sideways smirk, looking over his shoulder once more before bidding his young friends a 'good night.'