A fussing Antonia finally settles in Banner's careful arms, causing his shoulder to fall and the arm to ache.
Tony climbs on Banner's desk and extends a magnifying glass, "Here Sherlock."
The physicist accepts his joke, far too desperate for clearer vision to refuse his current offer.
"Very funny Tony. Here. I found these downstairs,' Pepper enters the room with a pair of glasses in her hand, 'They've seen better days."
"They'll work,' he recognizes his pair and accepts with a gracious nod and one hand, careful not to disturb the baby, 'Thanks Pepper."
"How's my little one? Is she having fun with you boys,' Antonia's mom circles to see her baby, tenderly brushing her cheek, 'I can take her back now if you need a break."
Bruce turns in no rush to give her up, "My arm is numb but. No rush."
Tony shakes his head over Banner's response, "You need to hurry up and have your own so Antonia can have a cousin around the same age."
"She has Alex," he answers quickly with no desire to continue the conversation. Suddenly he's eager to hand Pepper her baby.
Tony debates on pushing further, his jaw closing quickly. Natasha's entry causes Stark to put a pause on any further prying dialogue.
The redhead's expression softens over seeing the baby transferring from her husband's arms into Pepper's, taking a moment to daydream.
She spews her words, "I got confirmation on the mission."
"Venice?" Bruce asks with his eyes still on Antonia.
"Yeah,' she steps closer, 'Are you coming?"
The physicist addresses Tony, now at the opposite workbench, "Ask him."
"For how long?' Tony asks, 'I need him back by Friday for the big reveal."
Pepper shakes her head over Stark's answer, cradling her daughter, "No you don't."
Tony defends his remark in full detail, explaining how he can't handle the press alone and that she will be too busy with the baby to attend.
Pepper rolls her eyes, "Fine. You're right, I'm wrong."
"You're not wrong, I just have a plan."
She nods to brush him off, "I get it, thank you. I'm going to get food for myself before I feed Anna. Who wants a sandwich?"
Natasha lifts her packet with a shrug, "I should pack."
Bruce reaches to clean his lenses, keeping his head down when he asks, "What's the mission for."
"It's vague. It's not something I can share even if I had the details."
Natasha knows Bruce is upset based on the way his eye twitches over being denied information.
He offers a quiet nod and returns to his screen.
"I'll come,' he nods toward Stark, 'As long as I'm back by Friday morning."
Natasha has additional plans, hoping for time with him outside of her mission, "We'll be back by Thursday night."
"Perfect," Bruce breaks and gives her a grin, watching her step abruptly away once she gathers the response she wants. He bends over his desk and clasps his fingers to tug aggressively.
Tony peers over his station toward the doctor, "Don't like Italy?"
"Italy's fine. Her more cryptic assignments stress me out," Bruce pauses in his nervous movement upon realizing he's being watched.
"You know what, it might end up being a decent honeymoon replacement,' Tony nudges his friend as he passes, 'At minimum, make Fury pay for a nice room with a view. Check out Club del Doge- put it on the business card, my treat."
Bruce releases a nervous chuckle, "I don't think Tasha is there to sightsee."
"One night won't kill her. Do something nice. Get to work on Anna's cousin."
Bruce pivots at his table and reaches to type needlessly at his screen. His response is a knee-jerk reaction, hoping to get the engineer to cease conversation, "Yeah that's...that's not going to happen."
"Why not? You both like kids-."
"We can't."
"What do you mean you 'can't'-."
"I can't. We can't," Bruce answers emotionlessly in a rapid fire.
Tony sinks lower in his stance. If there were a way to escape down through the floor he would take it. With a softer focus and a moment to breathe he finally mumbles;
"…Post hulk issues? The Happy Serum doesn't work? Sorry I got a different impression."
"Well,' Bruce laughs coldly and rotates his screen, eager to get back to his project now that he has a silent Stark beside him, 'Let's just, get back to work."
"-Yeah okay. I'm just a tad confused…?"
"It's really not that complicated, we can't, that's it," he tugs at his fingers with a forced laugh that's a blend of sadness and anger.
Tony twists his jaw, eyes focusing guiltily back on his own screen;
"You and Red don't have other options?"
"Not really."
"You shoot blanks-.?"
"Poison."
His eyebrows lift, "Damn. What about adoption?"
"Not right now,' he lifts a tentative thumb over his personal device as it buzzes, 'Nat is busy with work and I have my own projects."
"Right. You...Hm. I really thought you and Betty-I'm going to dig myself into a deeper hole if I keep talking,' Tony taps Banner's shoulder when he doesn't get a reply, 'Look I'm not emotional, yeah? But. For you. You can talk, and I'll listen- for real, not just nod until you shut up like I do for Clint. If you need that kinda thing. You know what I mean?"
Bruce looks up briefly, offering a genuine, "Thanks."
"Let me know what you need. You don't have to hold my baby if it's too much-."
"Tony. It's fine. Really. We like Antonia," he gestures lightly with his device in hand, reading his cousin's latest spam of a text message.
Tony bends over his daughter's crib later that night, head tilted when he looks at her pretty eyes. She gives a big yawn whimpering with a slight fuss to convey a desire to be held.
Pepper immediately sits up in their bed, rubbing her eyes when she hears Antonia's noises;
"I'm coming Tony..."
Her husband shakes his head 'no', already reaching down to pick her up;
"It's okay Pepper, I've got it."
She gives him a look, wondering if this is some cruel joke to have him take the initiative;
"Wait, seriously?"
He nods, holding Antonia in his arms;
"Yeah, don't worry about it. Get some sleep Pep."
She tucks her hands underneath her pillow, smiling when he makes his way over to her.
His facial expression is much more somber than Pepper is accustomed to.
"Are you okay?" She eventually asks.
He rocks their daughter, "I'm great, I was just thinking."
"About…?"
Tony's eyes are firm, filling a bit with tears, "About how lucky we are. We have each other. This awesome kiddo. Not every couple gets to have…you know."
Pepper lifts a hand over her cheek to brush a stray hair from her face;
"So Tony Stark does have a heart."
He shakes his head, watching his daughter focusing intently on his arc reactor. He questions the hole in his chest;
"I hope this doesn't hurt her eyes."
Pepper shuts her eyes with a tired yawn and rolls into her back with a baby voice;
"Does Anna like Daddy's nightlight?"
Tony laughs at her comment, planting a kiss over Pepper's forehead;
"'Night light'..."
He moves off toward the balcony window with his daughter, sinking into a chair as he looks up at the stars with Antonia in his arms.
Natasha pauses at the frozen street sign, white beanie over her head when she removes her sunglasses.
She mumbles once Banner catches up, checking their papers, "Your Italian is on point. Have you been practicing?"
"No but thanks," He fumbles with a document, "It's freezing."
"I feel nothing."
"Geez. That's your Russian blood. My everything has turned to ice,' he mumbles, 'We're looking for Gritti."
"Are you in a rush to get to our hotel?"
"I'm anxious to get indoors and find heat."
Natasha tucks an arm under his elbow, her luggage in tow as the twosome stroll down the Italian street.
Bruce adjusts his thumb under the backpack swung over his opposite shoulder. He lifts a finger, "Is that it?"
She reaches to double check their map. Using her phone could be easier, but the risk of seeing incoming calls that distract from looking at him would hardly be worthwhile.
"I guess so," she confirms.
"Fancy."
Natasha narrows her focus, "Did you tell Tony? This has his fingerprints all over it."
Bruce returns her glare, "You talked about it in front of Tony so don't look at me. I wasn't expecting this either."
She shrugs over the idea and embraces being spoiled on a mission for once, eager to enter and be the first to claim a hot shower at the Gritti Palace.
Natasha steps out of the marble bathroom, wringing at her damp hair as she moves back onto the corner of the luxury bed;
"Well, this is-."
"Obnoxious," Bruce finishes, standing at the edge of a wooden desk in the corner of the large room.
She continues to mess with her short hair, "That's not exactly where I was going."
Natasha has her eye on one of his sweaters, the one folded up on his arm. He barely blinks when she steals it to wear, busy taking in the high ceilings.
"I might run down for a drink before I start rereading these mission files,' the redhead starts, adjusting the black sweatshirt, 'Would you want to come?"
He points toward their mattress, "I mean, if I have a choice between a bar and a nap I'd take the nap. This bed is just too good for me."
Natasha nods and moves to tug off the pillows and rustle the blankets. She unravels the corners and tosses the extra cover from the bed with a flourish, "Better? Less stuffy?"
Bruce can't help but chuckle, "You've made Hulk proud. You really wrecked it."
She cuts him off with an eye roll, "I need vodka."
He hums and lifts his nose toward her device now in hand, "What kind of mission is this? Drinking on day 1…You still can't share anything?"
"I'm looking for a nobody in a dark coat. Sort of tall? It's vague. They're attached to an anonymous project no one knows anything about."
"Sketchy."
She lifts the credit card swiped from his wallet, showing off her handiwork, "I'll be back before you can miss me."
He settles on the overturned bed, full of sarcasm, "Hey, I have an idea. Why don't you use my 'Nat's on a mission' card with the fake name on the back. You can buy your drink on me."
She moves forward to peck his mouth with little warning, "I will."
He kisses her back, "…you're not laughing. Too much sarcasm?"
"You?! Sarcastic? Unheard of."
"You're mad."
"I'm not mad, I'm tired."
"I love you, Tasha."
"I know," Natasha runs a hand through her hair, breaking eye contact first with soft eyes, "Text me if you change your mind about joining me at the bar."
Natasha tugs at the sleeves of her borrowed sweater, turning to move for the hallway of their hotel.
The decor resembles that of a haunted resort from the 1940's, out of place with each gold trim or marble fixture. The Venetian decor and cosmopolitan atmosphere feels somewhat ominous to the spy. And she scoffs over the excessive usage of green over the space, taking her place at the bar with her order;
"Vodka Martini, please."
Her bartender addresses the remark and gets to work on her order.
Natasha lays her elbows on the countertop while she waits, enjoying the pianist over in the corner as he performs an Americanized selection of 'Italian' pieces.
Natasha tosses her short hair, eyes out and aware of every man, woman, couple, teenager and child in her vicinity. From the old lady in gray to the small baby of about six months old, she has pinned their accents, home towns and jobs. No one here is a threat…
The spy takes her first glass and moves to chug, rotating slightly to focus on the pianist.
She addresses her device, eager to respond to Banner's, 'Still there? I'll come join.'
'Yes. Would love that'
She sets her phone down with a grin, eager for time with Bruce. She sets down an empty glass and requests a second along with two shots in fluent Italian, hoping that something will hit hard enough to stir up the motivation needed in order to get some sort of prep-work done tonight.
Her lips lock onto the glass when she spots a long dark coat, perfectly matching the description of what she has been able to read.
The spy chokes down her liquor, closing the tab in a fog as her blood runs uncharacteristically cold. With one eye on the mysterious figure, she taps the hidden pistol at her hips and sneaks out along the walls.
Upon spotting his profile, she blinks twice and loses her breath. Natasha immediately steals a breathing trick she's learned from Banner, trying to calm herself from an all out panic attack.
As the man turns back again she continues to follow. She takes a moment to recalibrate her thoughts and ground herself.
With a hand over her head she mutters to herself in Russian. She taps her fingers over the sides of an emergency button she hasn't pressed in ages. Winded and mid hyperventilating, she can't think straight and needs back up.
The redhead looks over her shoulder toward the loud ding of the elevator. She moves to peer out from beyond a corner, hoping she's been mistaken.
Natasha watches at a safe enough distance as Banner exists with his head down, colliding with the man in the trenchcoat. They're exchanging apologies- or at least, Bruce is. Hearing the other man's voice only serves to confirm Natasha's suspicions and her worst of fears…
A dizzy spell takes control of her vision, fingertips buzz and a bout of nausea sets in. The efficient agent loses her balance and stumbles backwards, hearing familiar voices calling out for 'Tasha' while another calls for 'Natalia?' as her world goes completely dark.