"I'm retiring," Fury announces, comfortable on the sofa post battle during the after party.
Natasha coughs and closes the binder on her lap, "Excuse me?"
He casually sips his own drink, dressed down for the occasion, "I'm headed to Cancun next month- You look jealous...or murderous."
She tugs her light green sweater, "Confused. You didn't just leave these binders in the back of your car…You want me to take over…Why? You love your job."
He smiles, "Loved,' he corrects, 'I'm old Romanoff. I couldn't even pinpoint infiltrators. It's time- I've had a good run. I've earned a break don't you think?"
She grins absentmindedly, trying to imagine a scenario where he's not in the picture.
"You and Maria have it covered,' he reaches into his pocket to hand over a key fob, 'The adoptions are back on. You're...cured. Speaking of which...Why did I have to hear about your illness from Stark?"
Natasha tilts her head, unsure how she feels about this torch being passed... or the fact that when she looks around, Maria is missing from Stark's festivities despite receiving an invitation;
"Does Clint know?"
"I'm telling you first."
She twirls the fob in her fingertips, "Who do I run to, for advice? I can't lose my mentor."
He smiles, watching Riley giggle with Violet, "Consider this a promotion. You are the mentor now."
She bites her glass with a light huff, "You're going to leave me alone with those glupyy idioty ?"
He holds his grin, crosses a knee and sips his drink, amused over the idea of checking in every so often and watching her struggling to run the dysfunctional team;
"You'll figure it out."
Clint and Laura are enjoying their peaceful corner until Garrett and Brody's kickball game lands on Barton's lap.
Garrett cringes, Brody hides. Clint grumbles, lucky to have caught their soccer ball before any disaster arised;
"Can you two, please, go play outside? If you break anything, I can't afford a replacement."
"Yeah, pop," Garrett nods humbly.
"Sure thing, Agent Barton," Brody salutes.
Over on the other side of the room, Tony and Pepper are content to be rambling with Thor and Jane. Their topic is horrifying parenting stories which Tony tries and fails to shut down multiple times. His paranoia is evident in the way he focuses on the way Izabella and Antonia engage with one another. His attention shifts when the music changes;
"Who is touching my music?!"
"Me!" Jennifer Walters wiggles the remote.
Bruce is grinning behind her, amused by her impatience;
"You know, Lucy does the same thing."
Jennifer mumbles with a snort, "Where do you think she got that from? Does it drive you completely bonkers?"
"Yep."
She gasps, with a thought, "Did she stack the forks over the spoons?"
"Worse! She made a mess of Natasha's Keurig drawer."
"How awful," she's monotone but there's laughter in her eyes, knowing exactly how to piss her cousin off for the fun of it.
"It is! Do you realize how many K-Cups I have to get back to and sort by flavor and color once Lucy goes back home?! Your kid is an addict."
Jennifer covers her mouth, laughing so hard her shoulders are jumping.
John interrupts with a twitch, "And when does Lucy come home? You don't want to keep her for another two weeks? Summer isn't over until Labor Day."
It sounds like a valid offer to Jennifer who tilts her head to Bruce, "I mean, school doesn't start for another 13 days."
Bruce laughs, blushing as his smile slowly disappears, "Wow, you're serious."
Alex barks and makes a charge for the hors d'oeuvres table. Natasha rolls her eyes and leaps from the couch with a whistle;
" Alex! Priyti! Sidet '!"
Jennifer narrows her focus, her green forehead reacting to her expression;
"I heard Nat was sick? Where did you all end up going for a diagnosis anyways? She looks fine."
"She looks great-I mean,' John starts but immediately retracting, 'Not as great as you! My scary, and very beautiful wife, I love you?"
Jennifer is glaring hard, ready to murder with her head turned to her husband.
Bruce bites his cheek. He's reached his limit on jealousy for the year and stealthily slips away to address a patient Izabella waiting for her turn to chew his ear off. He sits beside her and Antonia followed by Tony Stark.
"Are we talking 'science'?" The engineer sits on the ground, Antonia follows suit.
"We were! About energy and other worlds," Izabella says proudly.
Bruce rubs his cheek, "Their advancements were truly wild."
Tony nods, playing with his daughter's hair, "It got me thinking. I have so many ideas for the lab."
Izabella's eyes shift along with her upper body, "Do I finally, maybe, get a desk for myself?"
Bruce tilts his head, hand over his chin contemplatively, "I think she's earned it."
Tony rolls his eyes dramatically, "Why does she need that? She practically runs your lab at the center…ugh! Alright kid; Heal your hands and I'll think about it! But she's your responsibility, Brucie! If she touches something she shouldn't or gets into the wrong box, that's all on you."
"Boxes!" Antonia squeals.
Banner elbows Izabella playfully. She smirks and elbows him back. He reaches his hand out;
"How are your palms?"
Izabella's smile disappears, "It hurts."
Bruce contorts his mouth, "Yeah? I'm so sorry."
"Not your fault."
"We'll get you all patched up-."
" Vrach ?' She waits until he looks up, 'will I, use my powers again?"
Banner answers cautiously, "Hopefully…but don't strain yourself practicing until you're healed. Got it?"
"Got it."
Natasha makes eye contact with Bruce and nods toward the balcony, wanting a break from the noise.
Bruce follows and closes the door behind him before settling by the fire pit.
Natasha swirls the contents of her glass, "Separating you and Jen for a moment is nearly impossible."
He abandons the beer he never actually asked for and sipped from once at the ledge of the fire pit.
"Your eyes look so vibrant, Tasha."
"Better than Riley's," she feels almost guilty for having no more aches, nausea, or discomfort.
He sighs and nods thoughtfully, "Don't blame yourself for that-."
"-Or Izabella's bullet, Lucy's kidnapping,' she picks a fuzz from off her skirt, 'There is a lot to clean up."
Bruce sighs and hides behind his hands, "Yeah. Which is why I'm in no mood to party."
"You never are."
"-And that's not fair."
"What would it take to make you chug a shot?"
He points to the glass bottle, "I'm drinking, don't push it."
"One IPA isn't drinking,' she nudges him with her knee, 'No fun."
"I'll beat you in a game of cornhole when the boys are done with it, or is that still too boring for you?" he scoffs when she reaches to check exactly how much he's been drinking, disappointed over the bottle still feeling full.
Natasha rolls her eyes and mentally takes a step back. It's a big enough change for him to drink at all.
Bruce looks so soft by the fire, her head tilting with a subtle second nudge, "I think you should indulge me in a round of strip poker. How many shots do you need in order to make that happen?"
"Just that zen-the-Hulk serum in my nightstand," he blushes, unsure if she's making a serious offer or just messing with him.
Natasha looks back down at her nails.
Bruce keeps his focus on her, "Riley is on your mind, isn't she? I. I mean, Tony might have a few ideas…we have to talk about it."
"Eventually," Romanoff wants to talk about the kids, not at this exact moment. She moves to adjust her top and clears her throat.
He reads her automatic shut down, trying to pull her back to the present, "I missed your smile. I was really, really worried about you."
She hums, shifting to lay her head on his chest, "I'm fine, Bruce."
"Yeah?,' he clasps his fingers, 'No inexplicable urges to rage thanks to your new hybrid blood transfusion?"
"I don't feel green."
"No more nausea? Pain? Jealousy?" He gives a side eye, the smile making a quick comeback and wondering if she'll be mad at him for referencing Betty 2.0. She reaches a hand to pinch his side.
He squirms, "Don't! Pinch me. That hurt."
"She was hitting on you the whole time."
"Who?...She was just being nice?" That comes out as a half question.
Natasha scoffs and crosses her arms.
He's suddenly less playful, "She saved your life, I'm not going to pick her apart."
"Of course not. It's Betty. She can do no wrong," Natasha doesn't seem impressed, sitting up to pull away.
"It's not 'Betty,' it's Elizabeth," Bruce picks up on her quick mood change and clenches his jaw.
"I see it now, I get why you two were so perfect."
The sarcasm in her tone makes his head shake, "That's not fair. We had our issues-I've told you that. No one is perfect."
She's down her own rabbit hole, gesturing through a crack in her voice and a smile on her face.
Prodding him to get a rise is too tempting, "I'm just wondering, how many 'nice' girls have you misinterpreted? You know, with me being away and missing all of those benefits, presentations, galas…"
He's not amused, hands over his face when he sighs, "Nat, don't. Don't do this."
"What?"
"I don't want to fight-."
"Is there a reason to fight?"
"...no?"
"Then why would you say that?"
"Because your jealousy is not entirely merited. It's me, Natasha! I think you forget that you're talking about me. Nobody actually wants me ," he laughs through his words.
Now she's mad, looking deep into his eyes. She purses her lips, storming back inside and slamming the door behind her.
"Natasha," he groans and moves to follow. Bruce tries to stop them in the corner, "Natasha, don't walk away. Can we talk? I don't know why you're mad."
She whips around, dignity flying out the window when she yells, "Okay, Bruce Banner; I'll lay it out for you. And in front of our friends because I don't care if they hear it."
Clint looks up first, regretting the action. Pepper tucks her head and pivots to face the wall after assuming the worst.
Tony mumbles in his wife's ear, "What'd he do now? What'd I miss? Clint! $20 says she hits him before the night's over!"
"Deal," the archer answers.
Suddenly Jennifer cares, snooping around to the other side and leaning carefully in between Stark and Barton, "What are we talking about?"
"Your cousin," Tony takes a sip of his drink.
Jennifer growls, a rage steadily building, "...if she hits him I'll make that woman wish she had never been born."
Clint looks at her, "If you touch Nat I'll shoot a Vibranium arrow through your eyeball."
"Game on, Adam Lambert!"
"Aight! Can we stick to betting?! And for the last time, leave the nicknames to me!" Tony raises his voice.
Banner glances around the room and the extra chatter just sounds like white noise to him.
His focus is on Romanoff, keeping his voice low, "Can we please talk-."
Natasha claps her palms together, "-Let's discuss the fact that you are so prone to self-loathing that you can't see how valuable you are. The fact that EVERYBODY wants you just goes right over your head."
Steve interrupts cautiously, "Do you guys mind lowering the volume just a tad? We have kids here…"
"Nat-," Bruce tries to reach her calmly.
Natasha tilts her head, "What? I'm overreacting; Is that what you're going to say?"
"I- ugh,' Bruce stammers, 'Do you think I enjoy those long missions away from you?! Or- or! Watching you flirt for a mission-?! But I don't freak out over it-."
"Yes, you do. Not right away but the Hulk will give me the cold shoulder."
"- I get jealous because you're beautiful and...obviously out of my league and everyone and their neighbor is aware of it, so when people stare...I-. I don't know. You have no idea how it bothers me when people look at you like you're a dessert instead of,' he swallows hard, '...you're more than just a pretty body Tasha. And I love you. All of you."
Natasha almost melts at his words...Almost.
She huffs, "I'm jealous too. Okay? I admit it. I don't like it when other people look at you because….because you're mine."
Natasha eyes his lips, unsure if she wants to completely shred him to pieces or bite his neck so hard it'll leave a permanent mark; Something that says 'Property of the Black Widow, back off.'
He looks so helpless and disheveled when he runs a hand through his hair, nervously biting his cheek, "Yours? I'm yours?...Why are you yelling, then?"
"Should I send them both to their room? Tell them to work this out in private?" Clint asks in a whisper to Tony, he shushes him.
Natasha scoffs.
Her Vrach definitely deserves a shredding;
"You don't always listen when I talk, but you listen when I yell! So I'm...raising my voice. I'm yelling! Do you want me to keep yelling?! If you would listen to me the first time, I wouldn't have to yell."
"Preach," Pepper coughs into her hand...She has no idea exactly why they're arguing or what the problem is, but it's not like the rest of people currently eavesdropping on the spat between the not-so-quiet couple understands either.
Natasha is unphased and continues, "You're valuable. You're important. You're smart. You're attentive to me and you know what I need-usually. You're...handsome. Okay? You're a...hot, commodity."
"Commodity…You called me a 'commodity' ...so I'm property to you…an object. To be possessive over…If I said that to you, I'd have a knife on my chest, by now."
Natasha moves to the bar with a deep guttural moan, sipping her freshly poured drink, "That's not what I meant and you know it. Don't be so dramatic."
His jaw falls, eyes wide, "And I'm the one being dramatic now…?"
Clint sips his drink sideways with his eyes on the couple, whispering to Tony, "Can we up the stakes? $40?"
"Oh my god," Laura hides in her hands.
Romanoff lifts an eyebrow and crosses her arms, brushing her hair behind her ear.
Bruce looks like he wants to bite her mouth and make her shut up for a minute, blushing as if he wants to take her breath away and pin her up against a wall.
She's well aware and baits him with a shoulder brush on her way to the elevator.
His tongue is currently doing laps around his inner cheeks in frustration. He waits, circling the room, pacing a bit longer before deciding to follow her action and head up to their apartment.
Tony quietly watches with a groan, leaning over to correct his bet with Barton, "Does it still count if he comes into work tomorrow with a bruise?"
Jennifer's head whips around over the word 'bruise' before Barton can respond, "Does that happen often?!"
"Relax Greenie Girl! It's not that kind of bruise," Tony tries to tap her shoulder.
"A bruise is a bruise."
He surrenders when he realizes even on his tiptoes he can hardly reach her and settles for the bicep.
Jennifer holds her stare, knowing exactly how much it's rattling the engineer.
Stark can hear the sickening raspy chuckle, his eyes narrow when he pushed the lab doors open;
"What the f-rench toast!"
Bruce is smiling, blushing over something Natasha is whispering in his ear with her on his arm.
Natasha's back is to the door and up against his desk to focus on the physicist. His hand unwraps from her waist and up through her hair, when he turns to face Tony with a bashful smile:
"Morning."
Tony circles the couple cautiously, too confused to speak. He laughs;
"Are you two good?"
Natasha parts over the entrance of their third wheel;
"I'm meeting with Fury."
"For what?" Tony interrupts.
Bruce kisses Natasha immediately, "Okay. Be safe."
Tony questions, "Safe for what?! Where are you going?"
Natasha tugs at his curls as if she's proud to have him in her clutches, issuing a deeper kiss. Her mouth is unrelenting until she gets a soft moan from her husband, parting slowly.
Tony cringes, "GOD! Really guys?! Get a room! Tell me you're not on the clock Brucie- or I'm deducting a solid five minutes of pay!"
Romanoff lifts her hand in a gesture to shamelessly flip him off on her way out.
Banner only has eyes for Natasha this morning, watching the door long after she's left the room. He's biting so hard at the frame of his glasses.
Tony coughs, pulling up a plan on his screen, "So first of all we should put some ice on that bite-."
"What bite," Bruce finally snaps out of his fog.
Tony points to his own neck in reference to Banner's dark purple and blue bruise at the jugular, "Soapy water first, ice pack after, followed by some antibiotic lotion. Any funeral requests?"
He touches the bruise Tony's referencing with a blush. It's tender to the touch, nothing his fast healing capabilities can't handle.
Tony huffs, "When did the Black Widow bite you?"
Stark is usually one to pry into private matters but this sounds crazy even for the engineer.
Bruce opens his drawers in search of his emergency cold pack with a hand still trying to hide the mark on his neck.
Stark sighs heavily, still dramatic, "Poison isn't something to mess with, Brucie boy! Mr. I've-lived-in-foreign-countries-… you should know better than to mess with poisonous arachnids."
"Huh…?"
Tony points to the side of his own neck again, "You've got another one on the left…your other left…You'd count that as a bruise right? Can I take a picture to send Barton to win a bet?"
"No-."
"Wild night last night? Is that why we heard yelling until 1am? Wanna share the details before the venom overtakes your bloodstream and you leave us all mourning you in the rain?"
Bruce groans and cracks his cold pack, finally chuckling, "Can we talk about something else?"
Jennifer enters with urgent frenzy, tablet in her hand;
"Doc! I found you and Natasha an amazing couple's therapist. She's an old friend of mine- I love her, she's incredible-."
He shuts his eyes to avoid an eye roll, startled by her entrance, "Jen-."
"Here, look; Five star reviews across the board-."
"Jen?"
"Doc?," she pauses, arms crossing once she slips the tablet on his workbench.
He clutches the ice pack to his neck with a chuckle, "Jen, I love you, but you're meddling. We're fine."
We're fine...
...Her mind automatically falls to a darker place. She's heard that line before- once or twice as a child, once or twice as an adult. Dealing with her cousin usually isn't always black and white when he's had an abusive parent, an angry alter-ego and a less than perfect marriage with a psycho father-in-law.
"Are you sure,' she questions, 'Because this therapist is amazing- I really think she could work with you and Natasha on some deeper level. Marriage counseling isn't something to be embarrassed about."
"We're fine."
"Are you,' She stammers, 'What's wrong with your neck-Oh my god- She tried to strangle you!"
"No, Jen-."
"Your lip is puffy, Doc! I'll kill her-."
"Jennifer," he blushes redder.
"She hurt you, didn't she?" Jennifer frowns protectively.
Bruce lifts an eyebrow, horrified, "No! These are from kisses, I swear!"
"I know what love bites look like, these are dark, Doc."
"Green blood."
She points to herself, "Yeah! I've accounted for that."
He and tries to keep quiet with a chuckle, "Relax. I appreciate the concern but Nat didn't-...Tasha doesn't-...She's not hurting me. Okay?"
"Please elaborate in detail," Tony fumbles, resting his elbows in the desk and tucks his hands under his chin."
Bruce glares.
Jen's eyes widen, suddenly much quieter when she looks away with her own blush and realization, "...But. You're okay? Can you promise me that you're okay?"
"Jen, I'm fine, really. I trust her and she trusts me," Bruce moves to check his bruises in a mirror, they must look awful if she's that concerned.
Jen pushes gently, "I'm not going through another divorce with you. You're miserable when you're alone….She's not hurting you?"
"No."
"This is healthy?"
"-Yes," he looking at his bruises through the small mirror on the wall.
He regrets nothing, adoring Natasha and her roughhousing. Giving up control and surrendering mentally to the woman he adores is far from being cause for concern. Even if he understands Jen's side and why she's prying, he's over discussing personal topics.
Jennifer looks half mortified, half impressed, unsure if she's comfortable expressing either emotion.
"Well then," her jaw opens, closing as quickly as it drops.
" Vrach ?" All eyes turn to the small voice at the door, tugging her bandaged palms and the purple skirt that stops just below her knees.
He is fully prepared to clear the schedule for his adopted daughter for however long she needs.
He twists uncomfortably, still holding the ice pack, "Hi Izzy. If you're looking for Natasha, she just left."
She nods, brushing a hair behind her ear, "I speak with you, Vrach ? It about... um...About my power. About the center...Maybe, private?"
Bruce nods over Izabella's request and points toward his small office in the corner, "I'll be right there."
Izabella takes her seat at his desk, legs swinging. Bruce switches hands for his ice pack and leaves the door open just a crack.
He settles in the chair across from her, removing the pack with a cringe.
The girl looks so concerned, pointing to his neck;
" Vrach ! Did Alex bite?!"
"No, no,' he chuckles, trying to quickly ease her worries, 'Alex doesn't bite...so...what's up?"
She tucks her hands under her thighs, breathing heavily, "I tell Steve- well, Steve knows."
"Knows what," his eyebrows furrow thoughtfully, gripping the back of his chair as he rocks backwards to swap ice packs with the small ice chest.
"I see things. Like, future things,' she clasps her hands over her lap, 'I know Riley was- I saw that- about Riley. With Riley eyes. I saw her eyes go dark."
He mentally notes she's struggling to form her words and is quickly running out of breath. She does this when she's upset and he knows it.
Bruce leans forward empathetically, "It's okay. Don't rush. Take a breath. If you need to tell me in Russian that's okay."
She nods and takes a deep inhale. She lowers her volume, "Maybe I show you."
"Alright," he waits patiently with a hint of concern as she lifts her hand.
Izabella doesn't know what to expect, hoping that she doesn't disappoint her mentor for hiding this particular ability for so long.
His more intense focus is easily misinterpreted for disgust...so she takes another breath…
Her fingers move subtly, a twitch there, a curl there, forming her weaker green ball of energy with as much power as she can through her current pain. She cringes and twists her wrist, using her other hand for support.
Bruce wishes he had his glasses, trying to read through a misty green image. He touches his lips with a thoughtful focus seeing this whirlwind of moving images flashing in rapid succession…
Riley's eyes go dark and Steve is being beaten to a pulp. There's blood and headstones in the mist, nonstop and unrelenting echoes
Izabella holds it for as long as she can, tightening her fist to evaporate the image when she can't. It conveniently cuts the typical succession of images short.
When Bruce refuses to talk she believes she's done something wrong. Her eyes stay wide and hopeful.
Bruce is busy processing, tugging his fingers after abandoning the pack on his knee, biting his cheek.
Izabella swallows and finally talks to break the silence, " …skazhite chto-to ."
He's quiet in his reply, "How long has that...this, been a thing for you?"
She looks at her palms, adjusting the bandage on one, "Since we move to America."
"So, a while."
" Da. "
"Huh," He rubs his cheek, knee starting to bounce and she knows he does so when he's nervous.
Izabella eyes his hands and excessive finger tugging, tempted to hold them the way Natasha does when he is about to snap.
"So,' he aggressively tugs at his curls, 'your powers can breach different dimensions. Because of that, I don't- Okay; Seeing Riley's eyes cloud- well that's one thing. But. It's impossible to know, if what you're seeing is, our future. We'd have to stabilize your transmissions and figure out how- why…But. Let's allow your hands to heal for a bit. You shouldn't push yourself until those tendons recover. Okay?"
She nods in agreement.
He continues after a pause, "..This is bothering you."
She looks up at the ceiling toward the light, a trick she's learned from Natasha to prevent tears, "I'm scared, Vrach . I not understand it. This future is dark. I have koshmary. "
Bruce offers a grin, ducking to try to look into her eyes when her head falls, "There's no reason for nightmares. It's nothing we can't mess around with, alright? We'll figure it out. I promise."
She laughs, brushing an escaped tear, "Tony too?"
He tries to play, pushing away his own anxiety over her new trick, "We'll figure it out. It's nothing a little science and research can't fix, right?"
"Right," she nods, brushing her escaped tears.
"Here," Bruce reaches for her hand she's used to demonstrate this newfound power and replace her bandage.
A new knock on the door makes his head shake. And he's starting to recognize that voice. Lucy's is not as intolerable as she was two months ago but still loud and chatty.
"Why are your filey things so orderly? It gives me the twitches. Hi Izzy! How are your injuries? Steve told me you got shot!"
"I'm fine," Izabella states calmly, sitting in her chair. She has no problem allowing Dr. Banner access to her torn palms and to the light bandages he needs to adjust.
"You have the best chairs Uncle B," Lucy spins in the one behind his desk, lifting her filthy shoes onto it.
He cringes after securing Izabella's wraps, "Can you not-."
"Oops," Lucy freezes when stacked papers go flying, "Sorry."
He groans through his frustrations and eyes Izabella. His 'daughter' fights against releasing her chuckle, covering her mouth.
Lucy chuckles absentmindedly, "Hey Uncle B?"
"What Lucy," he crouches to sort the papers.
"Do you love me?"
He huffs out a laugh, "I'd love you more if you kept your shoes off my chairs."
Jennifer swings the office door open, waving her hand toward her daughter, "Oh, come on! Were you raised in a barn?!"
"That's a little harsh, Jen," Bruce remarks.
Walters gestures dramatically, "If you're going to trash his office, do it right and go for the filing cabinets. That's how you get someone with OCD. Who raised you?!"
Bruce laughs through his headache, "No! Lucy! I will not hold back the Hulk if you even think about touching that cabinet!"
The teenage girl narrows her focus, hands fanning to the side, "Wait! Is that supposed to be a threat?! It sounds like an invitation! Ha! I've been dying to meet him!"
"Hulk not so bad," Izabella shrugs.
Jennifer claps, laughing happily, "Thank you, Izabella! Finally, we hear some sense!"
Bruce points to his cousin, "You're not helping."