Body and Soul: The Endgame Fix
Summary: Natasha and Bruce head back to the house where she gets to meet Vella. After cleaning up, they have breakfast and Gordy joins them. Then, Bruce gets a phone call from the Lab.
Note: In the story, it's Tuesday morning October 31, 2023.
Part 19: Professional Courtesy
By the time they walked back to the house, they both felt a good deal better, and there was a silver Subaru Forester belonging to Vella in the drive pulled up beside the HX. Bruce had shown Natasha his workout and physical therapy routine in the pool, and she had made some recommendations to help get his damaged arm back up to speed. He had a very clever set up that used resistance against the weight and pressure of the water to test his strength and help increase his range of motion. Bruce also told her he had a circuit of scenic trails around the town he liked to run that was 25.22 miles in circumference. If he didn't swim laps for a half hour, he usually ran the trail in about that time. He had to be careful, but it was remote and the locals up that early knew his habits.
As Natasha checked through a log of his workouts and stats, she'd noted Bruce might not be as off-the-scale strength-wise as Hulk once had been, but he was more thoughtful and disciplined when it came to physical training than either of his counterparts. He'd put on over two hundred pounds of lean muscle mass over the past few years before the second Snap as if he'd been planning on a possible rematch. That extra motivation might have saved him from the Stones' ravages. She raised an eyebrow when she saw he'd progressed through his Brazilian Jujitsu training and earned his brown belt. Nat made a mental note to ask whom he'd studied under and how he'd sparred since there wasn't much in the log and she didn't have time to dig further.
Scanning the most recent entries, she noted—thanks to Helen and Shuri as well as his own work in the lab and the pool—he was almost three-quarters back to replacing the flesh he'd lost from using the Gauntlet. He'd be even closer to normal after the next treatment. Knowing how Banner had once avoided working out, his dedication to repair and rehab now surprised her a little. She wondered if Hulk had something to do with that? Somehow, Natasha felt like she had finally timed something right to help him. Nat was surprised how relieved she was to identify a niche for her professional talents. Security was one thing, but working directly with him was more important to her. She smiled with anticipation, looking forward to helping him train back to "fully functional" if not fighting form.
After they'd dried off, Bruce had given her a precursory tour of the lab space upstairs, which had a lot more character than Tony's sleek glass interiors. Bruce had always been more tactile and sentimental than his friend, so the industrial eclectic design didn't surprise her. Oh, there were plenty of glass panels and dark polymers, but exposed metal beams, polished wood, and colorful terrazzo along with the original tilework were present as well. Since both their stomachs were feeling empty, Bruce promised to give her a more thorough tour of the rest later in the week. Before they headed back, he took her into his office where he'd examined and cleaned up her damaged laptop.
"I kept it under a dryer hood for several days, but I've not done any recovery work on it yet. It just seemed a little too intrusive," he explained. "It should still be charged up."
"It doesn't look too bad," she said as she examined the scraped exterior of the sturdy military-grade machine she'd built from standard S.H.I.E.L.D. parts and modified and upgraded with Stark Tech and other components. She decided the damage looked superficial, so Natasha opened it up and tapped the tracking pad, using her index fingerprint to sign in. She could feel the slightest of vibrations as the processor and the fan engaged then turned off. It came up in safe mode, and she tapped her way through a few startup screens before encountering something she didn't recognize. "This may take longer than I was hoping."
"Why don't you bring it back with you and work on it at the house later?" Bruce suggested.
Natasha nodded and packed it away in a padded backpack he handed to her along with a new adapter. She wasn't sure if she was ready to take a dive into the unknown just yet, but it might keep her mind off waiting for the lab to get back to them.
~o~
When they stepped onto the porch, the door to the mudroom was left open for them, and they could smell cooking happening inside. Bruce held the backdoor to the kitchen open for Natasha, and Sirius barked a welcome. The dog greeted them and quickly circled back to park himself close to a tall thin woman with graying brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was chopping vegetables on a board next to the sink and looked up with a smile before scraping the cubed veggies into the large stockpot and tossing a small piece to the dog.
"Good morning, Vella!" Bruce greeted her as he set down the backpack with Natasha's damaged laptop in the corner near the dog's bed. "I'd like to introduce you to Natasha Romanoff. As I mentioned in the email, she's going to be staying with us for a while, permanently, I hope. Natasha, this is my assistant, Vella Cassar, my good right hand when I need one."
The taller woman washed and wiped her hands on a towel then offered Natasha a firm shake with her right hand. "Welcome, Ms. Romanoff," she intoned in a deep contralto voice. "I am so glad you've come." Her smile seemed genuine and softened her face.
"Thank you. Just Nat or Natasha is fine," she said, having to look upward to meet the other woman's dark intelligent eyes. She looked faintly familiar, but Natasha didn't immediately place her or the faded hint of a Mediteranian accent.
"Vella, then, or 'Help!' is one I hear a lot," she said with a sly look at her employer.
"Fair enough," Bruce said as he checked the large stainless-steel stockpot on the stove and sniffed at the steam wafting up. "Mmm, soup?"
"Soppa tal-Armla," Vella said.
"Widow's soup?" Natasha asked.
"Good, it's in your honor. You know Maltese?"
"I've been there, but it's been a long time. Do you break eggs into it?" Natasha asked.
"Of course. There's no other way to do it, according to my mother and grandmother."
"Is there enough elbow room for me to start pancakes?" Bruce asked. They'd obviously worked around each other before in the kitchen.
"Go clean up and get your wet things in the washer. I'll start the pancakes. We'll discuss Halloween costumes over breakfast. Yes?"
"Do we have a choice?" he asked.
"You always have a choice, but one way is much less trouble in the end. You have people you'll disappoint if you don't." She fanned her nose dramatically, "Besides, I can smell the pool on you. Go!"
Natasha had slipped their coffee containers in the dishwasher during the scolding, so she took Bruce's arm. "You heard her, Doc."
"The pool doesn't smell, does it?" he asked.
Nat just rolled her eyes, "Not the point."
~o~
"If someone had told me when I met you that you were going to turn into such a clothes horse, Doc, I'd have never believed them," Natasha said as she explored his large custom-built closet designed for his 7X-sized clothing. Pepper had regularly stocked Banner's closet with Tony's retired but hardly-worn dress shirts and let-out slacks when they lived in the Tower until he finally started buying things for himself, but the room looked like a department store's really, really big and tall section.
"If there's a charity event or whatever, designers send me things to try on, and if I like the way they fit and feel, I order something. It's not like I can buy anything off the rack anymore." Bruce had already put on his prosthetic as well as a pair of French blue boxer briefs and a gray t-shirt, so he followed her voice into the room to see what she'd found. "I don't mind being the poster boy for 'oversized' if that's what you mean."
She'd looked through his row of dark suits and dress shirts and finally found the section for day-to-day wear. "Now, these are jeans," she said as she pulled out a hanger with an embellished designer pair that could have made a sleeping bag for a couple of Cub Scouts.
"Too tight if I'm going to be moving around much," he said, and pulled out a plain pair of broken-in Levis from further down the row. "These will work." Nat gave him a disappointed face; she wondered how he'd look in the tight pair. He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Some other time. Pick a shirt out from between here and here if you want to be helpful," he said pointing at a row of casual tops before sitting down on a solidly-built bench in the middle of the room.
It suddenly hit her that even when, not if, his injured arm healed completely, he was in some ways disabled by his size. He hadn't been joking when he called his assistant his right arm. Bruce seemed to be coping with it just fine, but she wondered if he ever got frustrated. Natasha picked out a blue and brown shirt and unbuttoned it for him while he pulled on the jeans over his bare feet. "You seem to be going pretty light on the sock budget."
He smiled and wiggled his verdant toes. "I'd destroy them faster than I could put them on. Believe me, I tried at first. The only things that stood up were the kevlar and metal blends, which didn't breathe or have any give. Honestly, they itched like crazy. I have some good wool ones for when it does get cold or I have to wear a suit." He paused and ran his hands over his thighs covered in comfortable blue denim before he stood up. "Until I lived in the Tower behind Tony's wall of legal protection, I really didn't have the luxury of time or resources to care much about what I was wearing. I just wanted to blend in and not waste my funds on clothes or other material things since I always had to replace most of it after an incident." He smiled as he remembered the purple sweats Betty had bought for him when they were on the run. Those he had certainly never missed.
Natasha well understood that practical necessity since she'd followed him and sifted through the remains of suspected "incident scenes" and abandoned apartments and other places where he'd lived quietly and modestly under most people's radar. She'd been assigned to observe him long before they'd met face-to-face in Kolkata, back when Fury realized the physicist was really only a threat when people like Ross forced him to be one. "Did you forget that I know firsthand what being on the run is like?" she reminded him. "You missed out on some of the fun of being a fugitive after the Accords while you were off world playing gladiator."
Bruce laughed as he threaded a brown leather belt through the loops along the jeans' waistband. "Sorry, I forget how much you knew about me from before we met, but I'm not sure what I would have done here on Earth while the team went to pieces." He straightened his undershirt before bending down to put his injured arm through the sleeve she held ready for him. "Thanks." He quickly stole a kiss and tucked the shirt tail in before he buckled his belt.
"You do rock that suburban sexy scientist vibe, Doc," she said with a low chuckle. He did look nice—an amalgam of two familiar forms that were somehow growing even more appealing together. The attraction, she realized, went way beyond the physical pull she was feeling. He seemed so grounded now that he wasn't afraid of himself, and that inner strength attracted her more than she'd wanted to acknowledge. Damn, she was sure he was blushing again!
Bruce stopped and beamed down at her. "I aim to please. Hey, we kind of match," he noted, holding his arm up to her sweater because she was wearing dark khaki slacks and a blue and cream sweetheart set. "I think Wanda made a good call."
"True." She'd missed this kind of normal chitchat, but Nat chose to steer the conversation back into deeper waters. "I know it's been a while, but we did talk about what happened with the team. Tony thought you'd stick with him, but I wasn't so sure."
Bruce shook his head, "Wasn't there a third choice? Honestly, I would have tried to stay out of it, but . . ." he swallowed hard. "If you or Tony would have asked, staying neutral would have been difficult. I've had to work with Ross a bit since then, and I always want to take a hot shower after I've had any contact with him or his people. Even when something seems straightforward, I know damn well it's not."
"Oh?" she said and focused her full attention back on him. "Please catch me up on that. I thought you said you hadn't had dealings with him?" Of course, he'd had to do something to resolve his status and deal with Secretary Ross, but now she wanted to know what else had happened.
"Are you sure you want to talk about this before pancakes?" he asked, sounding more than a little reluctant.
"Over pancakes?"
"Sure. Vella and Gordy are well aware of the details, so it's okay to discuss most things in front of them, just not the kids. Oh, and expect Vella's two cents' worth."
"Got it." None of it really surprised her though possible security issues were flagging themselves in the back of her brain. Nat knew she'd never be able to turn that risk-threat assessment voice completely off. They kept talking as they took their wet swimsuits and towels down to the laundry at the end of the hall.
"While you were being held, Tony's lawyers kept me and the others affected out of jail, and I worked through my own reparations via the World Court. However, Ross insisted that if Hulk manifested again that I would be in violation of the Accords and should be placed under immediate arrest, shipped to The Raft, and the key thrown away."
"That doesn't surprise me. I've never known him to take a moderate approach," Natasha noted as she folded some towels that had been in the dryer, just to give her hands something to do. She'd certainly had to deal with Ross enough herself over the years. Things had gone a lot smoother when Nick had been Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., but she'd managed on her own when she'd had to cut a deal or two.
Bruce started the washer on a short cycle. "Things were relatively quiet once I caught the two moles he tried to plant on my staff here, Feaster and Johnson, probably not their real names. Then Ross mostly laid off until after I'd integrated. There was too much going on, too many little fires for him to focus on me or what I was doing until I became potentially useful to him again. He tried to arrest me on the way to the Compound when the other Natasha called me to consult on some things; luckily, Rhodey, Rocket, and Carol were already on the way because someone had tipped them off."
Nat couldn't keep from smirking. "Are you sure she wasn't using you as bait?"
He certainly had considered it. "I wasn't going to go there, but yah, I'm pretty sure of it."
She chuckled, "That's what I'd have done. I hope you upped your security."
"Rocket and I upped the encryption here and at the Compound after that since that's where the issue was. Rocket knows his software as well as his hardware. We used some of Tony's critterbots to physically check all the hardwired spots, too. Anyway, Ross and I had a nice and civil sit down with the lawyers shortly afterward, and the secretary made a deal for my occasional 'services' in exchange for leaving me and the team mostly the hell alone."
"So, you settled out of court," she said with a small huff. "What kind of 'services' did he want?" Nat asked as they walked down the main staircase. She could guess, but she wanted the details.
"The immediate reason he needed me was to help stabilize a detention facility." Natasha shot him a look of alarm. "No, not The Raft. This one was up north."
"Do you mean The Fridge or The Vault?" she asked. Those were the ones she remembered, but there may have been more built.
"The Fridge. Maximum security and storage facility. One hundred stories deep," Bruce said in an overly dramatic Ross-like voice, which made Natasha smile.
"That's the one I remember. Wasn't it already breached by HYDRA?" she asked.
"Right, during John Garrett's little uprising over a decade ago. It wasn't completely cleared out, so they needed someone to check on a radiation spike that they'd detected."
She chuckled, "Thunderbolt Ross wanted to send you on a dungeon crawl?"
"That's a good way to describe it," Bruce admitted. "It was in the middle of winter. The radiation and the circumstances made it next to impossible for any normal personnel to do the job."
"Surely, you didn't bite?"
He shrugged. "I did."
"Oh, Bruce?! Why put yourself in that position?"
"Let's just say it also involved some unfinished business and there was a personal reason for both Secretary Ross and myself to put it to rest."
Natasha thought for a brief moment before connecting the dots. "Blonsky? Was Emil Blonsky there? I thought he was supposed to have been kept at The Vault."
"At some point, before Ross became the Secretary, apparently during his health crisis, there had been a transfer ostensibly because the facilities were relatively close, and it was more economical to house prisoners of that security level in the same facility. The transfer took place a few months before S.H.I.E.L.D. fell, and it was kept quiet. In fact, it was so far off the books that Ross didn't know about it until he became the secretary and started integrating systems and evaluating facilities before they built The Raft. With all the concrete and debris it was practically a tomb, so they chose to monitor it instead of looking for trouble. I suspect they thought he'd been snapped."
Natasha shook her head. Forget HYDRA, sometimes government entities just plain dropped the ball. Occasionally, Lazy and Stupid really could be a worse dangers than Evil. "Where was Blonsky kept, the sub-basement or the penthouse?"
"The cryochamber was below the sub-basement, which had been broken into, but the containment vessel beneath was intact and still functioning, despite the radiation leak, when I reached it."
Vella already had pancakes on the griddle when they walked into the kitchen, so Bruce and Nat set the table as they talked.
"I'm sure the secretary was pleased you found the cell," Nat continued.
"Oddly stoic and resigned. I think he'd have been happier if Blonsky was dead or snapped, but at least he didn't have his observation detail drop some ordinance down the shaft after me."
"Only because Colonel Rhodes was on call," Vella grumbled audibly as he plated a couple of pounds of bacon she'd already cooked. "The livestreaming didn't hurt either. That horrible man cannot be trusted."
"Yes, being on camera helped keep everyone honest," Bruce agreed. "I'm not fond of surveillance drones, but they have their uses. Tony rather enjoyed hacking into those from home."
Why did that not surprise her? "Did you retrieve the cell?" Natasha asked.
"After I located and contained the radiation leak, I readied the cell for transport and delivered it in one piece to the top of the shaft."
"Are you sure Blonsky was in it?" Nat queried.
"That's an interesting question. The alarm system had not been tripped. The device was labeled and still sealed, so presumably Blonsky was in it at some point. I'm not so sure he was still inside when I retrieved it. The chamber didn't have a convenient window or a glass hood like others I've seen and the video monitor was conveniently offline. The scanners I had with me couldn't penetrate the shell either. If it weren't for the power source and gages, it was basically a sealed sarcophagus."
"A Shrodinger's puzzle if there ever was one," she noted.
Bruce nodded, "That or a shell game. At least it was human-sized."
"No intelligence since then?" Natasha asked as she poured everyone a fresh cup of coffee.
"Not a word that we could dig up. Since Steve broke everyone out, Ross uses a separate intranet for his dealings, so we'd need an inside source for new intelligence. Frankly, it's not been a priority for me. That doesn't mean it hasn't been for others."
"And Ross didn't say anything?"
"It was a long, uncomfortable ride back to Anchorage. I thought about showing him pictures of his grandchildren, but he'd likely have broken my phone."
"Your phone is not breakable," Vella said as she placed a very large platter of pancakes and bacon on the table. "That man does not deserve those beautiful young ones. Sorry, but you know that's true."
"That one job is all he's wanted you to do?" Natasha asked. She knew from experience Ross never let go of an asset or considered any deal completely settled if he could keep utilizing someone like a chess piece.
Bruce stroked his chin. "It was the only one specifically for him that I did. I defused and disposed of a dirty bomb that nobody is supposed to know about, but that was a joint mission with the Navy. Don't ask me to say anymore about that. I saved a certain dam with Rhodey at the President's request. Tony and I reworked the power grid, but we put in a bid to do that. Since it didn't involve a suit, Pep was okay with it."
"Really? No wet works jobs?" she pressed.
"I was getting to that. Ross asked. I refused. He asked again. I told him not under any circumstances."
Natasha bit the bullet, "Did that include Barton?"
"Yes. Ross tried to pressure me, even after I made it part of the negotiated agreement that I wouldn't go after anyone who'd been an Avenger or any enhanced individuals unless they were endangering others. Clint was really pushing it at the time, but he was obviously focused on taking out certain elements Ross wasn't sad to see go away. Plus, I wasn't interested in becoming some kind of quasi-law enforcement officer or hit man for Ross or the World Council. That required more sit downs with the lawyers. So, to balance things out, if I received a call about a regional emergency from local officials, I was in the clear to act as a free agent. However, I'd have to deal with any liability I incurred afterward on my own. The federal government wouldn't foot the bills or take the blame. Nothing new there. Ross would stay out of it if I wasn't breaking too many things and people weren't becoming collateral damage. As far as I can verify, he's kept his word."
"We've only been sued twice," Vella said staunchly. Nat felt sure the woman's loyalty was genuine.
"And we settled those out of court," Bruce added with a chuckle. He'd felt both settlements were fair and the aggrieved property owners were satisfied.
"So, this is ongoing? You still work with him?" Nat asked as he pulled out her chair for her. Sometimes he was really old fashioned, but usually in a good way.
"Well, I hope I'm done. Before I saw Ross at Tony's funeral, I hadn't talked to him or his people for several months. He thanked me for my 'service,' like I was now retired in his opinion. Never even mentioned Betty being back." He offered Vella the chair opposite Natasha's and sat down on the end of the table between them on his larger reinforced seat. They passed around plates and served themselves.
"Wait till the sky is falling again, then he'll give you a call," Vella groused as she placed her napkin on her lap and offered Natasha the butter for her pancakes.
Again, she was glad to see someone wholeheartedly support Bruce for a change. "He'll have to get an appointment for after the next apocalypse because I plan to keep you busy until then," Natasha said as she blew over her coffee before taking a sip.
"I'll tell him I'm all booked up then," Bruce agreed with a good-natured nod.
Natasha cut into the stack of pancakes on her plate before pouring maple syrup onto them. She noted how much larger Bruce's utensils and plate were to accommodate his hands and his appetite. She remembered someone telling her it would be okay to ask. "So, where did you get the size-appropriate plates and utensils that match everything else? These have a really nice feel and balance."
Bruce glanced up from his plate to Natasha and then turned to Vella. "Do you want to explain?" he asked his assistant with a grin.
Vella finished chewing a bite and wiped her lips first. "My cousin owns a factory in Ohio, so it was a custom job. It's a good thing they made plenty of sets for big hands because some people were a little rough and clumsy at first." She looked pointedly at her employer and smiled.
"I've gotten better," Bruce insisted and twirled his bread knife like a drumstick with his left hand, which really did surprise Nat.
"You should have seen him, Natasha. He's bent more forks and broken more gaming equipment . . ."
"Okay, but I'm not the one who threw the controller through the screen," Bruce pointed out.
"That would be your partner in crime, my old boss," Vella said.
"Tony?" Natasha asked.
"The one and only Mr. Stark," the older woman confirmed.
"That's where I've seen you," Nat said.
"I worked for Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts in California and then in New York City after the house in Malibu was destroyed. I helped with events at the Tower, but I'm not fond of urban life if I have a choice. Employment here with Dr. Banner is a good fit, despite the occasional damage to fix and buttons to fasten."
"Sorry, Vel. We played with Thor and Korg online a few times, just to try and reconnect with him. Tony got a little too competitive," Bruce explained.
"Sounds intense," Natasha teased. Clint and Tony were both video gaming terrors during down time back when they all lived in the Tower. That seemed like so long ago now.
"Not everyone is as goal-driven as Tony. Well, I mean, was as goal-driven," Bruce caught himself. "He was trying to help Korg and that's when the dance moves got out of hand. Long story." He sighed, caught in a memory for a moment, too, before coming back to the present. "These hotcakes smell great, Vella." He stuffed a pancake in his mouth to avoid saying more for a few moments. "Anyway, I guess you're not going to let us get away without costumes this evening, are you?"
"I'm not the one with all the plans. I think your young proteges are the ones with the grand ideas for how to dress us all up." She smiled at Natasha, "I think we're going to be the Munsters this year if you don't mind being Yvonne DeCarlo."
Nat looked at Bruce and gave him a bemused smile. "Hey, nobody tells me anything until the last minute here," he admitted. "I guess that makes me Fred Gwynne?" he asked.
"Well, I know I'm Grandpa," Gordon said as the older engineer emerged from the mudroom where he'd left his shoes and jacket and put on a pair of canvas loafers. "Good morning and happy punkin' day!" the technician said with a smile and a nod before he headed for the coffee pot. He had on jeans and a flannel shirt. "The kids are bringing the costumes in after lunch sometime, but we don't have to glue the bolts on till this evening, Bruce." He grinned at his employer impishly.
"Bolts? They're really going to make me wear neck bolts?" Bruce asked between bites.
"You wouldn't be Herman without them," Natasha chimed in.
He pointed his fork at her, "At least I won't have to wear a wig."
"Wigs and makeup, I can handle those," she said.
"Who are you going to be, Vella?" Bruce asked.
"I was fighting it out with Shonique over who'd be Cousin Marilyn or Spot."
"Who won?" Natasha asked.
"That depends. Shonique fit the dragon costume, so I'm the one with the bouffant wig and the poodle skirt," the older woman said with a chuckle.
"That leaves Marquand with Eddy Munster by default," Bruce surmised.
"It's all mainly his idea," Gordon offered as he sat down next to Natasha. "He's going to be the one in a velvet suit and fangs."
"And shorts?" Bruce asked as he passed him a plate.
Gordon looked across at his colleague and Vella threw her hands in the air. "No idea either," the technician admitted and dug into his pile of pancakes without bothering with any maple syrup.
"Gordy, you are so weird," Vella observed. "I don't know how you eat those . . . dry without jam or apple butter or something."
"I work here, don't I? Weirdness and eccentricity come with the territory. No offence, Doc."
"None taken, but I was just thinking the same thing. I guess that way they're handy for soaking up the coffee or something?"
"Exactly," the older man said. "They make a really fine excuse for more joe." He turned his head and addressed Natasha. "Ms. Romanoff, are you sure you want to be a part of this funny farm?"
"If the coffee and the company are always this good, I think I'll give it a try," she said with a sly grin.
"You've clearly not shown her the labs and the warehouse yet," Vella pointed out with a teasing scoff. "That's where the mess happens."
"Well, maybe the garage, but not the labs. We've not had a real explosion in over a year, have we, Doc?" Gordon challenged.
"Maybe," Bruce said, pausing to think for a moment. "When did we upgrade the mower? Last April or May?"
"That was a software glitch," Gordon pointed out."
"Yes, but it did crash and burn," Bruce said with a shrug.
Vella rolled her eyes. "You can imagine these two with Mr. Stark in the middle, Natasha? Nothing but trouble."
The redhead was trying to hide her laugh behind her raised coffee mug. "It all seems very familiar so far, and now I can't wait to go see the rest of the labs and the garage."
An audible chime rang on Bruce's phone, so he leaned back and pulled it out of his jeans' pocket. "It's the lab. I think I better take it." He listened to someone speak for a moment. "Uh, Natasha, we may want to go into the other room. Pardon us, Vella, Gordon." The two staff members looked at them with concern, but they kept silent. Bruce led the way into a multimedia room just off the kitchen before he handed the phone to her. "It's Joan, our head lab technician. Do you want me to step out?"
"No, please stay." Natasha put the phone on speaker and reached over and took his hand. "Hi, this is Natasha Romanoff."
"Hello, Ms. Romanoff, this is Joan Auvery," a professional female voice acknowledged. "I believe I met you five of six years ago. I'm the head technician in the bio lab at the Compound, and Dr. Banner asked me to work with your samples." Natasha remembered a competent young woman and was able to recall a face to put with her voice. "I wanted to see if you could come in and see our affiliated OBGYN today."
It took Nat a moment before she could get any words to form and answer the woman. "Um, I don't think I have anything going on before 2:00pm today." She looked at Bruce and he shook his head. Shuri and Helen wouldn't be contacting them till 3:00pm.
"Excellent, can you be here by 10:00am?" Dr. Avery asked and Bruce nodded.
"Sure. Can you tell me anything more over the phone?" she asked.
"Well, we didn't find anything that's immediately concerning. There were a couple of chemical anomalies we think are due to your captivity, but those issues seem to be improving since you're no longer being exposed to the unknown toxins. The reason we would like for you to come in is that your hGC levels are still elevated and that would normally indicate a pregnancy, but under these unusual circumstances, we thought a physical examination would be in order."
Natasha tried not to sigh so loud the biochemist would hear her. "Who is the OBGYN?"
"Dr. Crosier is here today."
"I'm told she's good," Bruce quietly reassured her.
"Cynthia is my own gynecologist," Dr. Auvery added. "She delivered my daughter three years ago. The Compound was lucky to get her services."
"Okay," Natasha said, squeezing the part of Bruce's hand within her grasp, "we'll be on our way shortly."
~o~
They'd said a quick good-by to Vella and Gordy. Bruce explained they were going to the Compound and running some errands, and that they'd be back early in the afternoon. Nat did her best to exude nonchalance, but inside she was feeling the pull of anxieties fueled by her imagination and regrets about the past. Although she'd pulled on her jacket, Natasha shivered in her seat as Bruce paused to let the front gate open and then close behind the HX.
He flipped the heat on as soon as he noticed her discomfort. "How are you feeling?"
"Cold and a little tired, but swimming will do that."
"True," he said and adjusted the control to make sure the heat would be on her feet as he remembered she preferred. He wished he was better at small talk to get her mind off things, but he had to settle for taking her cold hands in his right hand between shifting gears.
"Thanks," she said, starting to feel more comfortable. There was a bit of fog still in the river bottoms and the leaves were in peak color. If she hadn't felt so preoccupied, it would have been a beautiful drive. "You really don't get tired, do you?" she asked, breaking the silence after a few minutes.
"I get mentally tired and distracted, just like I always have." He was getting a sense of déjà vu. They'd covered this at some point. He just couldn't quite place when.
She took a deep breath, Fine, might as well take it head on. "Do you think we could handle being parents?"
"I think you would be a wonderful mother," he said without hesitation.
"And you?"
"I would love to try to be a good parent with you, but not if the price is too high," Bruce admitted.
She folded her arms across her chest and tucked her hands in her armpits for warmth and out of stubbornness. "I'm tougher than I look, and you know it," she said defensively.
"'Tough' has nothing to do with it, Nat." He knew they'd had this conversation, maybe it was Banner's memory? His head seemed to be suddenly full of them.
Natasha forged ahead. "You missed out on being around Nate when he was a baby, but you were good with the older kids when we were there. Don't you think you could handle an infant?"
He was taken a little aback. "I . . . I was around Morgan. Tony managed just fine. I imagine I could." He was remembering his friend's daughter as a baby in Banner's arms shortly after her birth. He'd been about third in line, but he was one of Morgan's unofficial Godparents. Bruce still had the tactile memory of Banner gently cradling and supporting her head and neck in the crook of his arm, the gentle milky smell of her scalp and breath, too. He remembered Morgan grabbing for Banner's glasses a few months later, and on the weekend before the last transformation Banner held her tiny hand as he pointed out constellations in the night sky. Then he pictured a few years later as the toddler delighted in climbing him like a green "Unka Boose" mountain. Tony and Pepper had trusted him more than he had himself.
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Natasha realized that last night she'd scrolled past pictures of him with the dark-haired little girl as well as Lee and Betty's two children while she was on his phone at the restaurant. She didn't have any trouble picturing him as a parent. He'd mentored people every chance he'd gotten that she could tell. Would he warm up to the idea if there really was one of their own? Natasha caught herself resting a hand on her abdomen, wishing she had some way of knowing what her condition truly was. "If this is real, Bruce . . . if there's a child, I want you onboard with it."
"Nat, you know how much I would love to raise a child of our own with you, but not if the price is your health or more." He found himself getting agitated, but not with her. Bruce let his breathing deepen and his heartrate slow for a few moments as he turned onto the county two-lane and headed east this time, circumventing the town and reaching the highway quicker. "I just got you back, Nat. I don't want to lose you for any reason." He told himself that he wasn't like his narcissistic father, that he didn't feel hesitant out of selfish possessiveness. The possibility of having to make impossible choices didn't sit well with Bruce, but he knew Natasha was his priority. For now, he'd suck it up and be a good partner for her sake.
"I'm sorry," he said, glancing in her direction when she didn't continue. He wasn't going to let his fears come between them, and he wasn't going to let her think she was by herself. "Hey," he said softly. "Of course, I'm onboard. You're not in this alone. I trust your judgement." He grinned and patted her arm. "I'd happily take the nightshift and diaper duty, but the breastfeeding is all yours," he said, trying to lighten things back up a bit.
She snorted and punched him in the arm before she realized it was his injured one. "Shit! I didn't . . ."
"It's fine, Nat. The vibranium absorbs it."
"Good, the last thing I want is to get chewed out by Helen and Shuri later."
He chuckled. "I'm the one they like to skewer in more ways than one." Bruce smiled and encircled her hands with his injured right hand again. "It's going to be okay. Either way, we're going to get through this, Nat."
She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly, out and in. "Is it that crazy to know what you want, but not know how to feel about it? I mean . . . I'm damn certain I want to stay here with you. That's settled. I just . . . If, and that's a big if, we have this chance, I don't want to throw it away out of fear, out of too much caution."
"We'll take our time, okay? If this is a pregnancy, we still have plenty of time to study how things develop and make sure you're safe." He both hoped and feared that Banner was the father. It was the only logical possibility. He'd calculated from the length of her hair that she'd aged less than two months in five years, so a pregnancy would only be six weeks along.
Before he could finish his thought, a call came through from Fury, and Bruce asked Friday to put him on the speakers.
"Banner?"
"Hey, Fury. This is Bruce. What can I do for you this morning?"
"Is Natasha with you?" Nick sounded like he was all business this morning.
"Yes," she answered for herself.
"Where are you now?"
Bruce glanced at Natasha for a brief second. "Headed toward the Compound, roughly 30 miles out. Why?"
"I have a couple of contacts I'd like for you two to meet."
"Are they from 'around here'?" Natasha asked.
"It's not that far of a commute," Fury replied noncommittally.
Bruce had been chewing at his lower lip as he listened. "Give me about 30 minutes, and we'll meet you there at Medical."
"Over," Fury replied, and the communication ended.
"Well?" Nat prompted.
Bruce opened up the instrument panel above the rearview mirror and activated a touch pad. "I've only used this a few times, but why not play it a little closer to the vest when you can, huh?"
She watched him make a few adjustments, and she felt more than heard a hum that soon blended into the sound of the tires on the pavement. "What did you just do?"
"I 'muddled' us," he answered matter of factly.
"What?"
"I just made it a little harder for sensors to focus on us." She frowned at him. "It keeps weapons systems from locking onto us. We're not fully cloaked like a Bird of Prey or even a Helicarrier, but our exact location is . . . a little blurred." He'd been in third gear once they'd reached the highway, but he soon sped up and shifted into fourth.
Natasha glanced around. The sky looked clear to the horizons and the highway was almost deserted. "You think we're being targeted?"
"I'm not certain, but better safe than a fireball." He was pretty sure they could survive a fireball, it was a direct hit from something more solid he wanted to avoid.
"True. Okay, who do you think Fury's 'contacts' are?"
Bruce puffed out his cheeks as he exhaled. "If I had to guess, I'd bet they're Carol's friends, too."
"Skrulls?"
"Or others who might know something about your doppelganger. It didn't sound like he knew we were expected at the Compound."
"You're right. He didn't." Her hands were finally warming up, but she was going to have to remember to get some gloves. "I hope he's found some answers because not knowing sucks," Nat only half joked. They speculated further just to have something else to talk about for the next twenty minutes before Bruce signaled and took an exit off the highway. The terrain quickly changed from fields to wooded hills and the two-lane road began to wind through the lower ground between the elevations.
"How much further?" she asked nervously.
"Less than ten miles north as the crow flies, but we're not flying. By the way, this blind turn coming up is where Ross set up his roadblock." Bruce slowed the HX as they went around the sharp 30-degree turn.
"Did they force you off the road?"
"Yah, right over there onto that graveled pull-over area. The cavalry arrived before I got out of the vehicle. Rhodey still thinks he could have negotiated an agreement right there, but Carol melting the paint on Secretary Ross's hood sort of put an end to the standstill."
"She doesn't seem to be one to mince words," Nat observed.
"Not when it comes to what she feels is right. I like her a lot, but diplomacy isn't her strong suit if she already thinks she knows the answer. At least she seems to listen to Fury."
Nat snorted. "Did she and Tony butt heads?"
"No, they weren't around each other enough. She seems to get along well with Rhodey though."
"Military birds of a feather?" Nat suggested.
"You could say that," Bruce said with a raised eyebrow and a quick glance in her direction.
As they made their last turn onto a newer stretch of road, Natasha recognized the same lane they had traveled in the opposite direction the morning before. She was used to approaching the property from a different direction to get to the old front gate, so it felt strange to enter from what had been the side gate. Bruce showed his ID as they pulled up to the entrance and the same guard as the day before opened the gate and waved them through. "Is that all it takes to get in on this side of the property now?" Natasha asked, thinking the guard looked a little too generic now. Life Model Decoy, maybe?
"We went through two sets of scanners before we got to the fence and the gate. Do you think we need more?"
"I didn't see any," she admitted.
"Tony is laughing somewhere right now. You noticed the LMD, right?"
"Thought so. I don't know how I missed that yesterday."
Bruce chuckled. "We were both a little distracted. The whole road is a scanner really."
"Nano-something?!" When Tony developed new tech, he liked to apply it every way possible.
"How detailed of an answer do you want?" Bruce wasn't even trying to keep a straight face.
Nat let out a puff of breath that lifted her forlock. "I'll pass . . . for now, anyway." She really was curious, but there were plenty of other more important things coming up fast.
When they reached the parking lot, Bruce pulled the HX into a spot at the back, away from the twenty or so other cars, trucks, and vans. Several unmarked dark gray fleet vehicles were parked near the front, most of them sedans. She didn't think Fury had arrived in any of them since none of the hoods were dry in that row and the odd assortment of others had local plates. Bruce turned the engine off and moved back his seat, releasing the belt buckle as he looked over at her. "Are you sure you don't want to run away together?"
Nat laughed at him with his deadpan serious expression. "I didn't know running was the plan, Doc."
He shook his head and removed his glasses. "Not really, but I feel like we're standing at a threshold."
"The quiet before the storm?" Nat suggested.
"Maybe or the beginning of something."
"A journey into the unknown then." Natasha reached over and took his sheathed right hand into both of hers. "Maybe it's the right time to make a stand?"
"Together," Bruce said and leaned over so they could kiss. Natasha unfastened her seatbelt and wrapped her arms around his neck, running her fingers through the short hair at the back of his head. He balanced on his right elbow and braced with his left hand on the dashboard as their lips touched. For a few minutes they let the world outside recede into the background.
~o~
Nat knew it was Fury before he tapped on the opaque window. If there hadn't been someone emerging from the far side of the vehicle he'd just parked a few spaces over from her door, she would have flipped him off when she lowered the dark tinted glass.
"Hope I didn't disturb anything. Nice to see you again, Dr. Banner . . . Romanoff. Like the haircut," he noted dryly. Nat knew something was up if Nick was being this tightlipped.
"Speak of the devil," Bruce murmured in a low growl as he looked past Fury and recognized the passenger exiting the far side of the other truck. He put his glasses back on before he opened his door.
"I like the new, uh . . . wheels," she replied, staring past Nick at the unmarked black SUV that nearly rivaled the HX in size and maybe in armament. As she shifted and looked over Nick's other shoulder, Nat saw the tall thin older man in a dark blue suit, cane in hand, turning to stand stiffly in front of their rolling behemoths. Bruce was already out of the HX to meet him. "So, why is the secretary here?" she asked.
"Not my idea. He said it's a courtesy call. I thought it was better if he asked you questions here on neutral ground with me and your significant other present than to have something stupid happen later if his World Council stormtroopers attempt to take you into custody." Fury used a level voice but couldn't completely hold back the sarcasm. "Sorry, if that's sexist."
"Don't worry, I'll tell you when it's sexist."
"Safety first," Nick quipped.
Bruce knew from years of experience that the best way to deal with Thunderbolt Ross was head on. He now towered over his former boss by almost a foot and a half, so the older man couldn't loom over him as he had habitually done while Banner headed the Bio Tech Force-Enhancement Program before the accident. Of course, back then General Ross had seen the young scientist as a pawn in his own bigger scheme, someone he could manipulate and bully into getting what he wanted. That tactic hadn't worked on Banner in years, especially since the merger. Bruce held out his right hand confidently and offered it to the older man. "Good to see you, Sec. Ross. What brings you up here this fine morning? I doubt it's the foliage."
Ross snorted incredulously, but he shook Bruce's large hand as best as he could. He nearly did a doubletake when he realized this was Bruce's injured limb. "Your healing has kicked in?"
"Prosthetic," Bruce admitted.
"Ah, not Stark's work. That Wakandan princess?"
"Yes, a gift from the Wakandan Royal Family," Bruce replied, thankful the Kimoyo Bead was out of sight.
The former general nodded, "Well, I suppose you earned it more than Barnes did his. To answer your question," he looked squarely over at Natasha who was standing beside Nick, "I'm not here for your Halloween candy. I'm here as a professional courtesy. I wanted to make sure Ms. Romanoff understands her legal standing has not changed," then Ross turned his attention back to Bruce, "and there are some unforeseen consequences related to your 'Great Return,' as the press has dubbed it, which we need to discuss, Doctor."
"What is my legal status?" Natasha asked, stepping closer to address him.
"Retired," Ross said with his usual dour tone, looking down his nose at her.
Fury cleared his throat. "Agent Romanoff is on two months leave. Her status will be reevaluated at that point."
The corner of Ross's lip curled just short of a sneer. "Very well, but on leave from what?"
"If I told you, . . ." Fury let the words hang in the air a moment, "then it wouldn't be a secret."
Ross looked down at Natasha who returned his steely gaze without backing away. "In two months, I'll be checking back with you to make sure you're retired, Romanoff."
"I'm sure she'll give you an update then," Bruce said in a voice that had dropped a half octave into a rumble, implying this topic was closed. "Would you like to continue this conversation in my office over a cup of coffee, secretary?"
"Thank you, no. I have a ride coming, so I'll be brief. Your sacrifice brought back the vanished population from five years ago. Not all of them are as pleasant a surprise as Ms. Romanoff or . . . my daughter. If you recall your little excursion into The Vault a few years ago," Ross paused and Bruce nodded gravely, "the cryogenic cell you retrieved was empty."
"You knew this?" Bruce demanded, quickly working through the scenario and the consequences in his head. "I hauled up an empty box."
"We didn't know until the cell was unsealed days after you retrieved it. It was certainly a disappointment. We had a new stasis chamber and quarters constructed and ready for Captain Blonsky, so he could start his rehabilitation."
"So, Blonsky was dusted and showed back up in what was left of The Vault?" Natasha asked.
"That appears to be so," Ross confirmed. "We've been tracking him since he tripped the sensors on the surface two weeks ago."
"Where is he now?" Fury demanded.
Ross looked like it physically hurt him to answer the question. "We lost him at the northern Ontario border five days ago." Bruce let out a disgusted huff but didn't say anything.
"You don't have a means of tracking him?" Natasha asked.
The old man scowled deeper and narrowed his stare. "He cut out his chips if that's what you're asking."
"You'll need to look for his Gamma biosignature," Bruce offered. "Is that why you're here? Do you need my help with that?"
"No. As I said, this is a courtesy call. Blonsky is a wanted criminal, and World Council Special Forces will handle the situation. We will have him in custody very soon. Do not under any circumstances engage the subject."
"What makes you think Bruce would have any contact with Blonsky?" Natasha asked.
Ross curled his lip again, but pulled his phone out of his pocket, activated it, and showed the screen to Natasha and then Bruce. It was a picture of the front page of The Daily Bugle dated Friday, October 20, 2023. The lead headline read: "Tony Stark Remembered in Private Service," and there was a picture of some of the mourners attending the funeral. At the back, behind Rhodey and Steve, was Bruce towering over the crowd. A red pen had been used to circle Bruce in the picture and the description of him in the article was also underlined in red. "We found this in the motel room Blonsky vacated just before we lost him. Make of it what you will. As a professional courtesy, I wanted to offer you protection if you'll accept it."
Bruce looked at Natasha who gave him the slightest of shrugs and a raised eyebrow. It was his choice. He could picture Bridgewater becoming an armed camp if he agreed. He'd leave town before he would welcome that sort of intervention. "Thank you for the offer, Sec. Ross, but I think we'll be fine."
The old man smirked and shook his head. "Very well then. You have my number. I need to get back to overseeing the search operation." Ross turned to address Fury. "I expect to be informed if your sources hear anything. Blonsky is my responsibility, he's unpredictable and dangerous, and he's under my purview." Ross shifted his gaze back to Bruce. "Stay clear and keep out of the way if he does show."
"I doubt that will be a problem," Fury replied bluntly.
Right on cue, a black armored vehicle with an official World Council seal displayed on the doors and hood pulled up to the gate and then proceeded into the parking lot. Bruce quickly opened the door for the older man and spoke to Ross as he climbed stiffly into the passenger seat, "Thanks for the heads-up and good luck with the manhunt." Ross nodded as Bruce closed the door and stood clear, watching the vehicle as it pulled away and left the parking area.
Natasha looked at Fury, and he nodded his head in the direction of the medical building. "Better move if you don't want to be late."
"You know about my appointment?" she asked.
"Your consulting physicians are already here. I brought them in before Ross came knocking."
"He came here?" Bruce asked.
"I got my courtesy call before you got yours," Fury explained. "Met him up north a ways, so we could talk along the way."
It was Bruce's turn to frown. "Did you know about Blonsky?" Nick glowered back. "Sorry, I'll take that as a 'No.'"
The spy master shook his head, "We've all been a little busy over the past few weeks."
"He doesn't look good," Bruce noted. He recognized pain when he saw it no matter how formal or crusty a front the old veteran was putting up.
"Some old soldiers would rather die in the field than loosen up their grip on operations," Fury noted. They walked across the parking lot toward the Medical Building, each lost in thought for a few moments.
"You said 'physicians'?" Natasha finally asked Nick, hoping for some clarity.
"I asked some friends for help in investigating what happened to you, and they offered their expertise."
"Then I won't keep them waiting."
End Notes:
Autumn_Froste is not feeling well. Think some healing thoughts for her. All screw-ups are mine.
We've got friends and enemies, old and new, in this chapter. Hope you enjoy Vella and Gordy. You knew we'd have to address Sec. Ross. It seemed very odd to have Thunderbolt and Bruce at Tony's funeral and not a word or a look passed between them. Nothing about Betty or Natasha? Another opportunity lost but not here!
I tried to cover what likely would have happened for Bruce during that five-year gap. I thought Bruce would have to deal with any lingering issues for damage he caused during and before Sokovia. (I went into it majorly deep in Special Needs.) He'd also have to deal with the Accords and his old nemesis Ross. I think Ross, if he couldn't imprison or "disappear" Bruce, given the chance, would make all the use out of any version of Hulk that he could. If he didn't outright control Bruce, he'd leverage what work he could get out of him. Luckily, Bruce isn't alone, and with most of the OGs retired, his help would have been in demand with all the chaos. (Wish we'd got more than that tacked-on unfinished scene of a money grab.) I tried to have some fun with it and create a little tension thinking back to Civil War, too.
I might as well mention, before the Pandemic hit, Ruffalo made clear at C2E2 that he wants to cover this five-year gap time period in a solo Hulk film or series that explores Banner and Hulk's conflict and the process they went through to become "Smart Hulk." Since 2015, he's said he wanted to see them duke it out somehow. At C2E2 Ruffalo also added that he envisioned a possible series as something closer to The Incredible Hulk television show with its fugitive-on-the-run format. I hope he gets his shot, but I don't plan to go there in this work. I'd rather see something closer to the comics, but more Ruffalo as Banner/Hulk, no matter what direction, would likely be a win.
Oh, yes, the "marriage plot" and fertility. Maybe because of all the drama back in 2015 about Age of Ultron's bedroom scene and then what did and didn't happen after that, I wanted to explore what tension there might be between Bruce and Nat if they did get the opportunity to have a child. I'll keep mining that vein for a bit. No spoilers.
Comments, questions, and commiseration are always welcome! Please give a like, a follow, a kudo, a review, a share, a tweet, and tell your friends to give it a read!
If you'd like to see the cover edits for each part, check out my Pinterest board or the Brutasha Nation or Hulk & Associates page on Facebook. This collage includes my idea of what Vella and Gordy would look like and a very cool mockup of the Daily Bugle's coverage of Tony's funeral (I'll post the full front page on my Pinterest board).
Next up: Part 20, we get some help and a few answers. With school starting this may take a little longer, but it's on the way.