Chapter Fifteen: The Empire Strikes Back

"We're extraordinarily calm and tender with each other as if sensing the other's rickety state of mind." -Raymond Carver

December 15, 2012 - Avengers Tower Residential Units - Manhattan, NY

Since moving to the Tower, Audrey had begun a habit of waking up early. So it was dark when she opened her eyes the next morning, to find herself in bed with another body, only the outline of which she could make out. For a moment, her heart stuttered and she thought maybe she'd been kidnapped again, but then her eyes started adjusting. In the shadows, she could make out Bruce's face.

Something Audrey couldn't name made her want to reach out for him. They were close to each other; closer than they'd been when they'd fallen asleep. Bruce had curled up into her side, a hand tucked under his head and the other flat on the mattress below the pillow, knees pressed into her thigh like two dull aches.

When had they gotten like this? Had any of it been on purpose?

Audrey lifted her hand and drew her thumb across his knuckles. Bruce was like her. Bruce had hands he was not entirely well acquainted with. She wanted, often, to ask him about the Hulk—if his eyes stayed open when the other guy took over, or if he blacked out. How often he felt compelled to change. If he got angrier the longer he stayed smothered.

After tracing figure-eights through the valleys between his muscles, Audrey flattened her palm against the back of his hand. Bruce hummed in his sleep. She pulled away, holding her breath in the dark, hoping he wouldn't wake up, but his hand chased after her own, grabbing it awkwardly, still asleep, and pulling it to his chest.

He mumbled something that sounded an awful lot like stay.

Audrey inhaled slowly, trying to steady her breath. As she watched him clutch her arm to his chest, so intimately interlaced with his own, she was filled with the overwhelming, inexplicable urge to kiss him.

She did her best not to shake at the revelation. It was the sleep deprivation, she assured herself. It was her loneliness. It was just because of his hand around hers, and the smell of his cologne, and the fact that she was sleeping in his bed. It was because Bruce was kind to her, and he always had been, and he calmed something in her that was otherwise persistently restless. It was the way he ran his hand through his hair as he worked, and the way he looked at her, always enthralled rather than annoyed, and—oh god.

Okay, so—maybe it wasn't just the sleep deprivation that was making her feel this way.

Audrey did her best to remain very still as she considered the facts. She wanted a lot of things—to shake him awake and make her confession in the pitch back, and to pull away and go back to her room to think things through, and to shove it all back down and pretend she'd never realized any of it in the first place.

But more than anything, she wanted what she already had; she wanted to be close to him, and feel the beat of his heart against the back of her hand as he held it close. She wanted to be in his bed, which was warm, and safe, and quiet. So Audrey pushed the other thoughts away. They could wait. For now, she had the blue dawn, and Bruce, and a heart on hold.

Later that morning, Audrey woke up again, but this time because of the dip in the mattress as Bruce pulled himself out of bed. The sunlight in his apartment was bright, streaming in and bathing the room in warmth.

She turned over to watch him as he brushed his teeth over the sink, the face of his watch throwing light around the apartment haphazardly. It felt intimate and sacred and off-limits to see him like this, hair mussed from sleep. Audrey dismissed the thought—she'd slept in his bed. Why would seeing him brush his teeth be taking it too far?

It wasn't long until her revelation from hours earlier crept back up into her thoughts. She sat up in bed, arms going cold as soon as she pulled them out from under the blankets, the harsh air reminding her of several things—their conversation from the night before—I just wish I knew how to be brave—the promise she'd made to Steve on Halloween—If I somehow fall for someone, I'll go for it.

Maybe she could be brave in smaller ways. In situations where the end of the world wasn't imminent. Like with Bruce. Her eyes flicked over to him, carding a hand through his hair in the mirror to neaten it, and then back down to her own wrist, where she found a rubber band to put her hair up with. The boundary that she felt between them before seemed to have softened as the night went on, and it felt safer to reach through it now. But still not completely safe. I'm terrified all the time. It's about what you do in spite of it.

Was she scared now? As she watched him clean his glasses, she tried to assure herself that, on a logical level, she wasn't. Why would she be?

But it wasn't Bruce that posed a threat. It was the idea of losing him as a friend.

She blew out a breath.

Maybe it was too soon to be acting on this at all.

"Hey," he greeted, giving her a funny look from the doorway. "You okay? You look worried about something."

"I'm okay," she assured him. "Sorry, just, uh...trying to remember my dream from last night."

"Bad?"

She shook her head. "No. Uh, it was abstract. A neutral dream." She tilted her head. "Do you have weird dreams?"

He shrugged, abandoning the doorway and sitting down on the edge of the bed. "I have nightmares, sometimes."

"About the Hulk?"

"Yeah, usually. It's not always him, though. I have dreams where I fuck up as Banner. I have a lot of anxiety dreams. Like—I go to class and there's a test I didn't study for. That kind of thing."

She knew she shouldn't smile at his misfortunes, but it was such a Bruce fear to have. "When was the last time you took an exam?"

"I had to renew my driver's license last year," Bruce said. "So, then."

"I feel anxious at the DMV no matter how prepared I am. I took my driver's test in 1975 but if I got asked which pedal was the gas and which was the brake I wouldn't be able to tell you.."

"Alright, well, it's never that bad." Bruce leaned in, bracing himself on his left arm.

Audrey narrowed her eyes. "Which pedal's the brake?"

"The left one," Bruce answered instantly, but then he paused. "Right? It's the left one." Audrey shrugged. At the moment, she couldn't think of it either. "I swear, if I was in a car I would know."

"I'm sure."

He waved her away. "Want coffee?"

"You don't drink coffee," Audrey said, before she could stop herself. Her cheeks went red. "I mean—I've noticed that you usually only drink tea."

"I do. The place came with a coffee maker, though. One of the keurig things with all the little packets. Terrible for the environment." He gave her a half smile, as if trying to measure how successful he'd been in selling her on it.

Not that successful. "I don't want one if it's gonna be terrible for the environment."

"That was a joke," Bruce assured her. "They're recyclable, don't worry."

"Well, in that case."

"Great." He patted her leg through the blanket, and then cringed at himself. "Sorry. I don't—that was weird. I'm gonna—I'll go make that." Bruce stood and headed over to the kitchen, where he pulled a drawer open and started rifling through it.

"Do you happen to have a spare toothbrush?" Audrey asked.

"Uh, yeah. Check under the sink."

Audrey slipped out of the bed, pulling the covers up in a shoddy attempt to make the bed on her way out. In the bathroom, she found an unopened toothbrush under the sink—bright pink. When she finished brushing her teeth, she wasn't sure where to put it, so she just dropped it in the cup next to his. She could take it back to her room later.

In the kitchen, Bruce set a mug on the table. "Milk? Sugar?"

"No," Audrey said. "I'm okay."

In reality, Audrey hated black coffee; she usually had it half-milk and with three sugar packets, but it felt insane to ask for that. So she sipped on the plain cup of coffee, doing her best not to scrunch up her face at the bitter taste.

Bruce joined her across the table with a cup of tea.

"Thank you for letting me sleep with you," Audrey said. Bruce choked. "Sleep over! Not—uh." She bit down on the inside of her cheek as Bruce sputtered. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry. The caffeine is still incoming."

He nodded, though still coughing into his elbow. Audrey felt compelled not to believe him, but the choking stopped soon after. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm good. Don't worry. And you're always welcome."

"You should start charging rent, at this point." He rolled his eyes. Audrey gave him a toothy grin in return. "What are your plans for today?"

He shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "Nothing, really. Waiting for peer reviews to come back. Which I'm hoping will be soon, but which I know realistically won't be until after the holidays."

"Right," said Audrey. She took another sip of her coffee. "Do you maybe wanna hang out? With me. Today."

"Oh," said Bruce, setting the coffee down on the table. "Yeah. Sure, yes."

"You don't have to."

"No, I want to."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"You don't have to, if you don't want to."

"I want to."

Audrey gave a stiff nod, biting her bottom lip. "Uh, do you like Star Wars? They're showing The Empire Strikes Back at the King's Theater in Brooklyn today."

He took a long sip of his tea and gave her a knowing look from over the rim of his mug. "I think Star Trek is better, but sure."

Audrey's jaw dropped. "You think Star Trek is better?"

Bruce raised his eyebrows, half-smiling. "What would you say if I did? Are we not allowed to be friends anymore?"

Friends. A pang in Audrey's chest radiated outward into a dull ache. She wanted to kiss Bruce, and she wanted Bruce to want her, too. But knowing him, and having him—like this, as a friend, or as something else—was more important than how she had him. Just as long as he was in her life. So she dropped the inner turmoil and narrowed her eyes. "Come with me to see Empire today, and I'll see if I can persuade you."

"I doubt you will."

"That won't stop me from trying."

He sighed in mock-resignation. "Okay, fine. I will let you attempt to convince me that the inferior Star Wars franchise is better than Star Trek."

Audrey rolled her eyes, and then pointed a finger at him. "You better start choosing your words carefully, Banner. You're already on thin ice."

He raised his hands in surrender. "Sorry, sorry." He laughed. "So what time is the movie?"

"Noon," Audrey said. "I can make sandwiches, though. I know that's lunch for the labs." Well. It was when Darcy usually attempted to swindle the scientists into eating. Bruce and Helen were the only ones who usually accepted the invitation, though.

"That sounds great," Bruce said, leaning back in his chair and tapping his index finger absentmindedly against the side of his mug.

"We can meet at eleven?"

"Common floor?"

"Yep."

"Sounds good, then."

"What about until then?"

Bruce shrugged, then stood. He walked to the door and Audrey waited, trying not to ask him any stupid questions while he went. When he returned, he had that day's Times in his hands. "Crossword?" he suggested.

She nodded, trying not to smile.

December 15, 2012 - Avengers Tower Common Floor - Manhattan, NY

Audrey would've made sandwiches in her room if not for the fact that her cabinets were mostly empty. She hadn't gone grocery shopping in the week before the Avengers Project service day to avoid TMZ, and she knew that going out now would do nothing but give them material to double down on—and she really didn't need to be interrogated by a reporter while she tried to buy peanut butter in bulk in the self-checkout aisle of Trader Joe's.

"Hey there, blondie," Darcy greeted when Audrey arrived. She was wearing an extremely opulent beanie, complete with knit flowers and sequins.

"I like that," Audrey said, pointing to Darcy's head, before she could help herself.

She smirked. "My stepmom is really into knitting. It's soft, though. Feel it."

Darcy bowed her head and Audrey obliged, rubbing her thumb against the side of Darcy's hat. She had to admit—it was soft. "That's nice," Audrey agreed. "I thought you weren't coming back until tomorrow, though. Isn't it still Hanukkah?"

Darcy shrugged. "Plane tickets were cheaper today, and I hate letting Tony pay for things for me." Audrey nodded. Fair enough. She went to the pantry in search of peanut butter, jelly, and bread, leaving Darcy to arrange a box of pastries on a platter. "What's all this for? What feast are you cooking up?"

Balancing the two jars in her hands, along with a loaf of bread, Audrey remembered how Tony always used to tease her over her disdain towards taking multiple trips. She kicked the cabinet door closed behind her, and dumped the contents of her hands onto the kitchen island. "I'm taking Bruce out to see Empire Strikes Back to thank him for letting me sleep over," she explained. "And also to make a point about Star Wars."

"Oh, okay. Morning after situation. So like a date?" Darcy asked.

Audrey shook her head vigorously, thinking about Bruce and the word friend and measuring the value of eight months of knowing him against the thrumming of her heart in her chest and unscrewing the lid on the peanut butter jar. "It's not a morning after," she said, very matter-of-fact. "And it's definitely not a date."

Darcy raised an eyebrow, but didn't lift her gaze from the platter. "It sure sounds like a date."

"What's not a date?" Audrey turned and looked over her shoulder to find Tony strolling towards them, his Zeppelin tee and jeans missing the usual oil stains he acquired from a day in the labs. "Can I have some of that coffee?"

"Yeah, take whatever, parasite," Darcy scoffed.

"Aw, I love our little pet names, Host," Tony cooed, placing a hand over his heart and making a point of gazing intently in Darcy's direction. Darcy, in turn, rolled her eyes and bumped her shoulder against his. He stuck his tongue out, and then went to pull a mug from the cabinet for his coffee. "Now, someone tell me—what's not a date?"

"Audrey taking Bruce to see Empire Strikes Back."

Tony filled his mug to the brim, and then took a slow, cautious sip. He smacked his lips. "At King's Theater? Sounds great, let's go."

"Oh," Audrey said, nodding adamantly. "Um, yeah, yes. Sure. Let's do it." She turned to Darcy, still nodding. "See? It's not a date. Tony's coming."

Darcy gave her a bizarre look. "Right."

"So when are we leaving?" Tony asked.

"Uhh...eleven."

Tony nabbed one of the croissants from the platter Darcy was arranging. "Sounds good. See you then, Aud-ball."

Darcy watched him go, and then pivoted back to Audrey. "What the hell was that?"

"Not a date."

"Because you invited someone else."

"Because it's not a date! Empire Strikes Back is open to all. It deserves appreciation. Also, I didn't invite Tony, technically. Tony invited himself."

"You accepted Tony inviting himself in, like, the weirdest way possible."

"Not true," Audrey said, thinking up a dozen other ways that inviting Tony could've gone worse. She opened her mouth to make this point, but Darcy cut her off.

"Please don't come up with a weirder way to have done it just to prove a point."

"I wasn't going to do that," Audrey lied.

Darcy pointed a danish at her. "You like Bruce."

"Pfft. No."

"You wanted it to be a date."

"No, I didn't."

"Uh huh," Darcy said, sliding the tray onto her palm and grabbing the pot of coffee with her free hand. "Whatever you say. Nice Culver hoodie, by the way."

Audrey opened her mouth to object, glancing back down at the sweatshirt, but Darcy was already on her way to the elevators, and arguing with her didn't have much of a point when she was right.

When Bruce arrived on the common floor, Audrey was waiting on the arm of the couch in a green sweater. He looked nice—much nicer than her, in a button down and peacoat. She folded her arms across her chest, awkwardly trying to reconcile the effort he'd put in with the fact that under the sweater, she had on a Star Wars tee shirt.

"Hey," he said, his hands in the pockets of his coat. "You ready to go?"

"Um," Audrey said. When she had invited Tony, she had forgotten that he was late to everything, and that she would have to explain to Bruce that he was coming. "Well, almost. But there's also the fact that—"

The elevator ding-ed and the doors slid open. Tony stepped out, wearing red sunglasses and an expensive blazer. He clapped Bruce on the shoulder, and Audrey winced as Bruce flinched in surprise. "Hey, Jolly Green," Tony said. "Let's blow this popsicle stand."

"Oh," Bruce said, raising both eyebrows at Audrey. "Tony's coming?"

"Sure am."

"Yeah," Audrey said, squinting one eye as she nodded. "Um, surprise?"

"Surprise achieved," Bruce said, shrugging. He looked confused by what was happening, and Audrey didn't blame him. She wasn't sure if she'd wanted it to be a date or not. If she had, she wouldn't have accepted Tony's invitation so quickly. But if she didn't want it to be a date, why did she mind that he was tagging along? It was Tony—Star Wars was their thing. It made more sense for him to come than to not.

"Should I call up a car?" Tony offered.

Audrey pushed herself off the couch, standing up and looking at Bruce. "Or we could—well, I was thinking we could take the train?" He didn't react, lost in whatever thought spiral he was heading down. "If that's—Bruce?"

"Right," he said, still looking mildly in-shock. "Yeah, uh, train sounds good to me."

"Great," said Tony, pocketing his phone. "Let's go get on a train."

December 15, 2012 - Somewhere Beneath Manhattan

"Do you remember when we first saw this?" Tony asked Audrey, once they'd settled on the subway.

She held onto the bar above her head while Tony and Bruce took the two available seats they'd found. Bruce had attempted to switch with her, but she'd insisted when the train had started moving and he'd been body slammed by a large group of teenagers. Tony had not offered. Audrey was not surprised, but she didn't mind much either.

"Of course I remember," she replied.

"I was 10, Peggy said I wasn't allowed to go out. You needed a break from your dissertation. Suddenly we were breaking out of the house. My first taste of the dangerous life."

"I thought your first taste of that was when your parents sent you flying alone from Switzerland to Los Angeles."

Part of her felt weird talking about this on the C-train, but Audrey knew that for the most part, New Yorkers didn't care about the Avengers. The press cared, and tourists cared, and sometimes she'd get stopped and asked for a picture, but the rest of New York had just...gotten used to it. She looked around, to see if anyone cared about the fact that Bruce Banner, Iron Man, and Lady Liberty were discussing Tony's childhood kidnapping attempt, but nobody seemed to be listening.

Tony scoffed. "Almost getting kidnapped from LAX was dangerous, but Aunt Peggy was a hell of a lot scarier than the guys with the candy in the van. You know she used to threaten to wipe all traces of me from existence if I didn't eat my vegetables?"

"And you believed it?" Bruce interjected.

"In my defense, I was five years old."

Bruce shrugged. "That would do it."

"Sure would." He put his arm behind Bruce. "What about you, Doc? Any fond memories of Star Wars?"

It wasn't Tony he looked at when he answered—Bruce met Audrey's eyes, looking amused. "I have a fond memory of arguing with Audrey about how Star Trek is better this morning."

"You think Star Trek is better? Are you serious?" Tony shook his head, looking gravely disappointed. "Who gave you those PhDs? I'm calling them. I'm telling them to rescind them." He pulled his phone out and placed it to his ear—upside down, no less. "Hello? It's Culver University. They want your degrees back."

Bruce waved him away. "Star Trek's more complex."

"Star Wars is more iconic," Tony argued.

"Oh, and just because something's iconic it's good now?"

"It's also good," Audrey objected. "It's got great worldbuilding, and a good cast, and—"

"Jar Jar Binks?" Bruce asked. Tony sputtered. "I rest my case."

"Case unrested," Tony declared. "Unrest the case. Wake it up. Was Jar Jar Binks cursed? Yes. But does he taint the franchise so much that even Carrie Fisher's work becomes irredeemable and unworthy of praise?"

"Yes," Bruce insisted.

"That's just heartless," Audrey said, shaking her head.

"You think that's heartless?" Bruce asked, incredulous. "Maybe this friendship wasn't meant to be after all."

Audrey nudged his shoe with her own. "You don't mean that," she said, but there was a question in there she needed him to answer for her to be sure.

"You're right," Bruce agreed, nudging her shoe back. "I don't mean that."

December 15, 2012 - King's Theater - Brooklyn, NY

After they bought their tickets, Tony sent Audrey and Bruce inside to claim seats while he got snacks. She'd made him a sandwich, but he'd made a point of ignoring her as he went to stand in the popcorn line.

The theater wasn't packed, but it was far from empty. Audrey shrugged off the sweater once she and Bruce had found seats in the middle and draped it across the armrests of the chair on her right to reserve it for Tony.

"How are my odds, do you think?" Audrey asked. She pulled a sandwich from her bag and handed it to Bruce.

"Thanks. Odds?"

"Of convincing you of Star Wars' superiority."

"Oh! Right. Those odds. Uh, slim to none, I'd say."

"You have such little faith in me."

"It's not that," Bruce assured her. "I have plenty of faith in your persuasive abilities. But this? I just don't think it's possible. It's not your fault—I blame George Lucas."

"You take that back," she ordered.

"Never," he replied.

He was wrong—on an inherent level, he was wrong, because Star Wars was definitely better than Star Trek, but in the moment, Audrey didn't care that much about the argument or making the point. She was too focused on how good it felt that Bruce was comfortable disagreeing with her. He usually avoided conflict at all costs, but there had to be some part of him that felt safe with her in order to disagree with her. It was low stakes, yeah—but maybe they were both learning how to be braver.

A beat passed between them, and then Bruce leaned over and said, "Can I ask you a question?"

Audrey nodded. "Yeah, sure."

"Was this—uh, I don't mean for this to sound presumptuous, or anything, and I'm sorry if it comes off that way, but was this supposed to be—"

"I got popcorn," Tony announced, shuffling down the aisle sideways and handing Audrey the bucket. She pulled her sweater onto her lap to clear the seat for him, and he sat down. "The cashier was nice. I felt bad for asking for extra butter so I paid for her student loans."

Audrey choked on a popcorn kernel. "Good for you," she said. It never failed to surprise her how much money Tony had. "Maybe you should start a fund."

"I should, right?" Tony grabbed a handful of popcorn and put it in his mouth. Around it, he said, "I'm gonna talk to Pepper about that. We do it for staff, but we have enough to do it more often." He took a long sip from his coke. "What'd I miss? Previews? Anything good?"

Audrey hadn't been paying much attention to the previews, if she was being honest with herself, but Tony would've noticed that something was off if she admitted that. Audrey loved trailers, usually. Luckily, she didn't have any time to answer, because a woman in the row behind them leaned forward, placing her head between Audrey and Tony, and hissed, "Shush!"

Tony wrenched himself around in his seat. "I am so sorry, ma'am. I'm going to be quiet now."

He pivoted back around, rolling his eyes—"It's the previews," Audrey heard him mutter—but still, he quieted down. Audrey bit back a laugh.

She felt Bruce's hand brush against hers. At first, she assumed it was an accident, but it returned a second later. He pushed his pinky against hers. Audrey's breath hitched. Tony reached across to grab a handful of popcorn from the bucket.

Be brave, Audrey, she begged herself as the title began rolling across the screen. Her skin burned as she slid her hand across Bruce's to cover it. He flipped his own hand, and then they were palm-to-palm, fingers laced together. Audrey's cheeks heated up and she exhaled her relief at the theater's darkness.

She didn't know how his question was supposed to end, but she had a pretty good guess. Audrey squeezed his hand. She hoped this was enough of an answer for him.

A/N: thank you for reading ! as a side note i'm sure nobody cares about, keurig pods are recyclable technically but you have to separate the different components, you can't just recycle the entire thing. please recycle responsibly

anyway, thank you so much to everyone who reviewed last chapter! i appreciate you all so much, and i am so grateful for everyone who took the time to comment. please let me know what you thought of this chapter lol i know it was very Tropey but I had fun writing it and hopefully it was fun to read.

Chapter 16: Mistletoe and Holly

"So, fun update," Clint said. "My hearing aid just died."

Audrey raised an eyebrow, making sure to enunciate her next words enough for Clint to understand them by reading her lips. "Does this mean I'm the one who's gonna explore the underground tunnels?"

"Sure does," Clint replied. "It's a Christmas miracle. For me, I mean." He shot her a sympathetic look. "For you, this sucks."