Natasha waits for Bruce to step out of his shower. She's panting still, all from her wrestle with Clint in the tower's gym.
Natasha smiles when the door opens. He offers a quiet smile in return, moving to pick out his clothes for the day.
Bruce won't always talk about his feelings or his days as of late, but the absence of a hug after a week apart doesn't leave Natasha feeling confident enough to ask for one.
She crouches at their bathroom cabinet for a towel;
"By the time I got home last night you were already asleep."
He tugs on a dark top, brushing behind her with a quick retort, "It was a busy day."
Her mouth contorts, noticing his tie folded out on their dresser;
"Do you have an event later?"
Bruce rolls up his sleeves, head low as he sits on the edge of their bed;
"Two days ago."
She tucks her head, "I know those things make you nervous."
"Yeah,' he wants to share more, discuss the reveal and everything from that evening but she seems distracted, 'That mission was long..."
It's still on her mind, the week-long chase and long hours. Her knee hurts and her wrist is aching with a purple bruise.
Romanoff knows that's exactly where his eyes land. With an awkward shifting in her weight from off her sore right knee she finally speaks, "It's nothing."
He knows otherwise. Natasha can't look at him which means she's done something bad in her own eyes, and probably his.
"I missed you," he offers.
Her head nods as if it's an involuntary response, blinking excessively which means she's over analyzing.
"Talk to me, Tasha?"
"My mind is on those kids-."
"Abram has a meeting with a potential family at 12."
"That's good. Do we have updates for Riley or Linda?"
Bruce huffs an exasperated sigh, "Not. Since the incident."
She bites her lip over the reminder of Linda almost blowing up a kind-hearted man and his partner. Though patient, they weren't keen on Linda's lack of self-control or explosive abilities which ultimately scared them away.
And Riley's interviews have ended in equal disasters- more often than not because of the girl's lack of a filter.
"Have you called my contacts?" Natasha asks hopefully.
"I've been a little busy."
She hugs the towel, "So have I."
"Why are you getting snippy with me?"
"You're being short with me."
"…I'm sorry, I'm just trying to talk,' he prefaces. 'With you away more often, it's been a lot on me."
Natasha hand waves with her defensive explanation, "I've been working every other week."
"…That's my point."
"You don't like my job."
"I didn't say that,' with his top buttoned he moves to stand across from her, 'I just think we should talk about the amount of missions. The kids miss you."
"Ow," She moves to storm off and crunches over an odd pinch at her side which gives Bruce the opportunity to catch the half slammed door.
"Was that your wrist? Natasha, don't walk away. I see that you're upset."
"No."
"Nat,' eyes narrow, she knows what's coming, 'what's on your neck."
"Clint and I were wrestling."
"Can I put aloe on those bruises?" He tries to gently move her hair from her neck until she pulls away.
"Stop,' her eyes are as firm as her voice, 'I'm fine. Go, meet up with Stark for your dimension research."
He sighs, a mix of confusion in his eyes, "What is going on?"
"Nothing."
"Don't lie to me."
"I'm not."
"Tasha, please!"
"Go please. Betty's waiting," she knows how to push.
He stops mid sentence, "Who told you."
"No one. I had a suspicion so thank you for the confirmation."
"Natasha," door hits his nose so he reaches to test the handle.
"Space!" She yells.
His hands drop when his forehead hits the door, "I can't explain it if you don't let me. It's not what you think."
"Door!"
Natasha reopens hers and heads for their entryway. Alex starts barking behind them in response to the knock.
The couple move to answer the door together. Tony and Pepper have arrived unannounced with Antonia in the middle.
"Brucie! I need you."
Banner is barely paying attention, ready to close the door on his friend with a hand on Alex's collar to hold the excited shepherd in place, "It's really not a good time-."
Natasha answers with a wide smile over her face, "Hi Anna, come here sweet girl."
The young girl bolts for the redhead, eager to be scooped.
Pepper clasps her hands, "We really need you guys to watch Antonia for a week, if it's not too much."
"There's an emergency in Malibu and we could use the help. I'll commit to 8 shifts at the center next week if you guys can keep her in one piece," Tony adds.
Natasha rocks steadily, rubbing her small back, "Of course! We've got her."
Tony lifts a key, Bruce struggles not to roll his eyes and takes it with a flare. The look between them is enough for Stark to tap his shoulder;
"Car seat is on the kitchen table. Thanks man!"
"Yep!"
Bruce forces a smile and closes the door on Pepper and Tony waving to their daughter who clearly prefers Romanoff at the moment.
Bruce tosses the Stark's key onto the island when he calls above a whisper, "Natasha?"
She is facing away from him, busy with Antonia and humming in response.
"I should've told you sooner," he mutters.
She whispers, "Our walls are thin. I've already heard most of what you've had to share on the topic. 'Bumping' into someone who was 'just like her'..."
"I'm sorry," his head hangs, tongue over his inner cheek
She looks over her shoulder, "While I am happy you can confide in Stark, I want you to talk to me."
He shrugs, voice low, "I don't want to burden you. You just lost your father-."
She shakes her head, "You're not a burden. Meeting the doppelgänger of your ex shouldn't be something you wait over a year to tell your wife."
"Yeah, and I'm sorry. You're right- I know you're right."
"So,' she's snarky, lifting a shoulder, 'How many times did you shove your tongue down her throat?"
"It wasn't like that."
"You were with your ex; you didn't kiss her?"
"You were gone for months- Are you seriously going to say that?"
"Well?"
"I didn't know what was going on or where I was, how I was getting home…You know what it's like to see someone come back from the dead. Blonsky…it doesn't matter. I let my guard down. I messed up, it was a mistake. I'm sorry."
"What about all of this,' she shifts onto her heels, 'dimension research?"
He clasps his hands and pulls up a stool with his eyes on her. Natasha tugs on a twined rope in Alex's mouth.
Bruce watches Antonia plop on the floor before continuing, "I'm not researching for...her, I'm researching for Izabella and for the sake of developing her powers. I don't want to dig up the past because I'm finally at peace with it."
"Okay," Natasha softens instantly, not wanting to engage further or pry for details.
"I'm sorry."
"You're usually more open with me. Maybe that's my fault…"
"It's not your fault."
His eyes flick up and lock onto hers. She's emotional with him but verbal expression isn't always her forte.
When she's soft he soaks up every moment, "I love you, Tasha. I understand if you don't trust me-."
"Don't go there. We're fine. Just talk to me."
"Touché," Bruce nods nervously, "Do I get to hear about your mission?"
Natasha has a lump in her throat,
"Mexico was...Well I found a few more b.o.d.i.e.s than I had the stomach for. But it's done, it's over."
"I'm so sorry,' he offers genuinely, moving closer to see Antonia and checking on Natasha's more subtle twitches, "What do we need to do? For us?"
"Therapy,' it's a half joke, one that neither of them can truly laugh at, 'or a bottle of vodka."
"What about a walk through Morningside," he tugs at the back of his neck.
"It's complicated with Antonia,' she turns on her higher voice, 'Anna, you cute, complicated, kid."
"Holding a 24 pound child isn't going to help your broken wrist," Bruce reaches to take the girl, setting her free to play with Alex.
"It's not broken," Natasha twists her hand with a shrill.
Bruce extends a hand, she caves and rests her wrist in his gentle hold. One firm press against her tendons with his thumb and he has his answer; "The brace is in the closet. What's wrong with your knee? Is it your hip?"
"Nothing, it's fine."
"Tasha."
"I wrecked my knee and I'm overcompensating."
"Okay; you should take it easy."
"You make me angry."
He runs a hand through his hair, "That's not the goal."
She leans in for a nudge, interrupted by the insisting Stark child.
Antonia stands in front of the physicist, handing him Alex's tennis ball with a request, "Puppy run!"
Natasha smiles with a bit of sass, "Does Alex want to run right at this exact moment?"
In one of the large auditoriums, Rogers is boring the back row with his war stories and irrelevance. Linda has slapped her head against the edge of the long desk a total of eight times since the hour began, taking her rage out on the pencil.
Brody has a total of two lines on his paper, biting his eraser with his eyes wide. He's far too focused on Steve's rambling to pay any attention to the team building activity of the day; this art project.
Steve turns toward the clock to realize he's spent 45 of his 60 minutes busy sharing stories before he excitedly addresses his sketch;
"Anyways! Let's talk about shading-."
Abram raises his hand, "You mean what Riley throws."
Timothy raises a hand to offer a high-five, "Ooh! Shade! I get it."
Garrett isn't paying attention, adopted son of Clint Barton. Despite being the eldest, he was one of the first kids to find a home.
He's working on a new cherrywood bow with Clint in the back of the room and listening to his father, "Smooth this part down, it's where your fingers are going."
Steve crosses his arms, staying friendly through his frustrations, "Agent Barton! I thought we agreed to do woodwork tomorrow and art today."
Clint ignores, focused on Garrett, "Move that lower-."
"Agent Barton?"
"Not now Cap."
Rogers exhales with a narrowing focus as some of his patience starts to slip, "Were you on the schedule to be my assistant for Art Hour?"
He nods, taking out his device to speed dial Romanoff, "Hey Nat? Am I required to follow Steve's program if he's got everything under control?...She said 'no'."
Steve closes his eyes and returns to the front of the room, exasperated when a phone goes off. He's blushing over the loud volume and visibly disappointed in half the room bopping along.
The Captain throws his hands onto his hips;
"Now wait a minute! That is not appropriate for your age group. Whose phone is that?!"
Riley lifts her device shamelessly.
Izabella bites at her lip, her closest friends Brody and Katina have their eyes wide and hands over their mouths.
A rubber band comes flying in from the back, snapping Riley's device from her hand and abruptly shutting the rap as it crashes against the desk. The girl whines and glares toward Barton;
"You hit me!"
He crosses his arms with complete disgust in his stare, "Get some self respect! Strike two."
"Ugh! You're not even my mentor anymore!"
"I am when Nat's not around."
Steve tries to be threatening, wagging his finger with a calm voice, "Now you know, I'm going to have to write you up Miss Proctor. I don't want to have to do that."
Izabella rolls her eyes, turning around in her position on the floor;
"Riley! Stop. You make everyone mad. We want to draw."
The kids quickly get quiet when the 'cool' girl makes her statement. Riley crosses her arm and sulks once her friend snaps at her.
Thor enters the room from the back with his hammer raised, Jane at his side with two screaming twins in her arms. Her hair is a messy bun, a young boy bouncing in her arms begging to run.
"I have arrived for activities! Who is ready to enjoy a fine night full of film?!"
The kids all crouch to greet the Odinson twins, Agmundr bolts to Brody with a shy Agatha prefers to hide behind her father's leg the second he puts her down.
Jane Foster brushes her forehead, eager to hand off her children for the next hour until Agmindr decides to cry and scream when she attempts to put him down, "Agmindr please go play. Mama is tired."
When the Perez family decides to drop off Violet for activities the next day, the dynamic in the center completely changes. Each of the kids adore their youngest original teammate and get a kick out of her speeding up and down the staircase and over and through the large hallways.
Of course she is greeted by Natasha first who heads up a non-competitive run of the day with just the girls.
When Bruce is left with the boys and the youngest girls, he's glad to have Thor around to help patch up the walls and inevitable broken windows afterward.
Books and science are with Bruce and Rhodes for the first half of the day, ending with a game of basketball head up by Thor and Clint in the gym.
Antonia needs to throw every shot even if the ball is the same size as she is. And somehow Thor has the energy to play, dodge and make baskets with his one year old daughter constantly in his arms.
When Clint shows up he brings a few new arrows to shoot in the courtyard. Even if he lacks any outright ability to do anything requiring decent coordination, getting out of the house gives a very pregnant Laura the space she requests.
The summer means having less of a schedule no matter how hard Natasha tries. And Bruce is too busy with administrative adoption meetings to keep Steve, Thor, and Tony on track.
Pepper is the best about color coding spreadsheets and reports. Svetlana is second best when it comes to reports and being present.
The rest of the team is moral support; Clint is fortunate if he can get through the day without reporting an injury.
Jane is lucky if she doesn't end up falling asleep 'on the job'. The twins Agatha and Agmundr are far too draining and clingy for the young mom who is splitting her time between Asgard and Earth.
Banner's lab at the center might as well be openly accessible to Izabella who wanders in and out almost as much as Natasha does. The physicist's bookshelf is better than a library and she's gradually working through each one.
Riley seems to be curious in math hour but she's never admitted to it and will never do so. Being too "nerdy" lowers her popularity rankings at school.
Maria Hill's check in messages to the Banners go left unread every month. Bruce doesn't have the patience to inform SHIELD of everyday happenings at the center. When he does message, it's vague with limited information on the kids.
Natasha doesn't mind the reports as much but agrees with Bruce in keeping certain information within the center. She trusts Fury with her soul but she recognizes that he is not SHIELD. It's a fine line she intelligently navigates.
The real struggle for Bruce and Natasha is and has always been separating the center from home life.
All over the coffee table are sketches, codes and theories in neatly organized bins. Their home office whiteboard is an outline of to-dos.
The bookshelf is a bunch of half read books on speed, how the mind works, bombs, hypnosis, lasers and the like. And if Natasha isn't putting Alex's toys away she's finding strays belonging to Antonia who spends half of her time in their apartment anyways.
When Bruce finds time to organize Natasha's coffee drawer alphabetically it's a miracle. For a couple that never sleeps, the fact that it is 1am remains irrelevant.
When the redhead steps beside Bruce to ask what he's doing, he's overanalyzing her simple question.
He fusses with a keurig cup on hand trying to read the label, the rest of the box in his opposite arm;
"...I don't know."
She rests an elbow over his shoulder, head tilted over the color coding he appears to be doing subconsciously;
"Time for a refill on the caramel."
He points to the full orange section, "Not a fan of the pumpkin?"
She wrinkles her nose, "It's not strong enough. Neither is a Latte."
"Good to know."
Natasha reaches to fix the vanilla currently in the wrong section. He hands her the next in a makeshift assembly line. She finds it quite satisfying to watch the colors coming together, immersed in the seemingly mundane activity.
There is no stress, no other voices. And they're enjoying the silence.
Maybe organizing the coffee drawer wasn't at the top of her list, but it's cathartic to do something mind-numbing for a change.