Notes: Just a heads-up, this chapter includes discussion of Bruce's suicide attempt that was referenced in The Avengers. It's not in any detail but it is brought up! Also, tw for emetophobia because it's mentioned that a character throws up from drinking too much.

Chapter Seventeen: Early in the Game

"Maybe I'm crazy to suppose I'd ever be the one you chose." -Nancy Wilson

December 31, 2012 - Avengers Tower Common Floor - Manhattan, NY

Bruce didn't understand much about Tony, but he especially didn't understand his almost Gatsby-like need to throw gigantic parties every other month. It felt like Tony was constantly storming into his lab with a gold-foiled invitation and a demand that he dress up according to theme. First it had been for Audrey's birthday—and Bruce hadn't minded the invite so much as he'd been curious abou why he'd gotten one. He and Audrey hadn't been close at the time, save for their conversation over shawarma after Loki. Bruce had wanted to get to know her better, but he hadn't thought that she felt the same. And then Halloween. After that mess, he'd been wary about another function, so he'd resolved to show up as late as he could manage to Tony's 2013-Casablanca-themed-Get-it?-Like-Lucky-13 New Year's Eve festivities.

And anyway—Bruce had never even been a fan of parties. To call his tardiness "fashionably late" felt like a cop out. Mostly, it was just avoidance of large groups of people when he could help it. The stress and pressure of a hundred people he didn't know in a room together had never gone well for him. Even before the exposure, Bruce had thought himself above parties—or outside of them, at least. It was like everyone else was in a room he could see into, but he couldn't find the door, and things hadn't exactly gotten easier since the Hulk became something he had to deal with.

The other component to this, though, was that Bruce had no clue where he stood with Audrey, who was the one person he did feel like he could understand, usually. She'd been avoiding him since they'd gone to see that Star Wars movie with Tony, which made him think that he'd read things completely wrong when he'd tried to ask her if it was a date, but then again, she'd held his hand through most of the movie, so…?

Bruce wouldn't mind if Audrey only wanted to be friends; it was the safest option, he knew, but that didn't mean that it was what he wanted. Never had someone been as...as gentle with him as she was. Even his relationship with Betty had always had an edge of turbulence to it. They relied so much on their professional competition to keep them going, and that had always been aggressive, to say the least.

Now, a little past nine, Bruce found himself heading straight from the labs to the common floor. He'd managed to kill time for the party's first two-and-a-half hours looking through a research report Jane had sent him to review, and then again, and then again. He could deal with staying for the next three, just to make it to midnight.

He felt some kind of deja vu when the elevator doors opened. Jane, Darcy, Thor, and Audrey at the bar, talking and doing shots. Steve playing pool with Clint. Tony and Natasha engaged in an aggressive poker game with Kate and Hill. When Audrey turned and caught a glimpse of him, she shot him a beaming smile and waved a hand at Darcy absentmindedly, before stumbling over to him.

"Hi, Bruce," she said.

He tilted his head and let his lips quirk up the slightest bit. "Hey, Audrey."

"You wanna drink?" she offered, slinging a hand over his shoulders. "Thor brought mead."

"Maybe just a martini," he said. "Come on. Let's sit you down." He snaked a hand around her waist and let it hover over the small of her back without actually touching her and guided her back over to the bar stool.

"Ugh, finally," Darcy grunted. "You were in that lab forever. I thought you weren't coming."

Before he could stop himself, Bruce's eyes flitted over to Audrey, who was nursing a tall glass of something amber. "I, uh. Was finishing up a report."

Darcy chased the straw of her cocktail with her lips. "Yuh-huh," she deadpanned, disbelieving.

Bruce checked Audrey again, hoping she hadn't caught the tail-end of their interaction, and was happy to find her slumped against Thor's chest and swaying. "How much has she had?" he asked the god.

"Too much," the god said around a calm smile. He braced his hands on Audrey's shoulders to keep her steady, and then shook his head fondly. "I've replaced her glass with plain, midgardian ale."

"Budlight," Darcy clarified. "She'll be fine in a bit."

Bruce nodded, slowly and unconvinced.

"I'm gonna go to th'couch," Audrey slurred, pointing over at one of the gray sectionals.

"An excellent idea," Thor commended, shouldering most of her weight and carrying her over. Jane followed, leaving Bruce alone with Darcy. Almost immediately, she swatted him on the shoulder with the back of her hand.

Bruce stifled a yelp. "Darcy! What the—ow, why are you—what?"

"How many PhDs do you have?" she asked him.

"Seven?" he answered, still leaning away from her.

"Yeah," Darcy said, sliding off her barstool. "Incredible."

He watched her leave, brows still knitted together. Darcy swanned over to the pool table, where she tugged on Steve's tie and made him blush. It was a moment too intimate for Bruce to intrude upon, so he turned back to the bartender and ordered a drink, leaning awkwardly against the marble counter of the bartop. Why had Darcy just spasmed at him so suddenly? He tried to recall their interactions in the office recently, but was coming up empty. He let her take the last of the milk for her coffee instead of pouring it into his tea. She let him borrow her stapler, and then he returned it. How had he managed to do something to her since 5 pm that night, without speaking to or interacting with her at all?

Bruce continued to consider it as he made his way back over to the couch. Jane had her feet draped across Thor's lap, and was talking about her days at Culver. "I always knew that astrophysics was my field," she was saying. "You know? But my advisors kept trying to push me into English because they thought it suited me better, which was just—well, sexist, for one, but also wrong. I haven't finished a novel since sophomore year of high school."

"What is a soft more, my dearest?" Thor inquired.

"It's, like, the grade you're in when you're 15," Jane explained, seizing his hand.

"Ah, to be 15," Thor reflected fondly, leaning back against the couch. "I had just received my first sword. Loki attempted to steal it, but our mother had hexed it to elicit lightning shocks when used without permission. It would make his hair stand up."

Bruce soured at the mention of Loki's name. He got that family baggage was a thing, to an extent. But the guy was a total dick who had tried to enslave the planet, and the fondness that crept into Thor's voice whenever he regaled an audience with a childhood story about the two just didn't make sense to him.

Bruce thought of his own father—the last memory of him—and then took a sip of his drink. Family baggage, he was familiar with. But fondness? Not so much.

"Hey, Bruce?" Audrey asked, poking him on the shoulder. "I had too much to drink," she whispered, too loud for anything meant to stay private. "And I need you to make sure I don't do anything stupid."

He tilted his head. Bruce liked looking at Audrey, now that he knew how to do it properly. There were things to notice about her, all the time; little hints of herself that she gave away. One time, in his lab, she'd told him that she didn't think she made a very good spy. He had to agree, but he didn't mind. He liked to learn about her and keep track of the things he knew so that, during moments like these, he could get a little bit closer to understanding her without outright asking. At this moment in particular, her thumb was drumming steadily on the top of her thigh, and her right brow furrowed. He knew this look of hers, mostly in flickers and passing moments before she caught herself.

"Okay," he agreed. "I will make sure you don't do anything stupid."

"Thank you," she mumbled, leaning her head against his shoulder. "M'so tired. I'm a sleepy drunk."

"I can tell," he answered, leaning back slowly. "At this rate, you're never gonna make it to 2013."

She shrugged. "I wish for the same thing every time."

Bruce racked his brain for a moment—wish? "Is this one of the wishing holidays?"

Next to him, Audrey's eyes popped open. "Is it not?"

"I don't think so."

"Then I guess it doesn't make a difference." She blew out a breath and sat up, blinking several times and stretching out her hands. "Alright, I'm sobering up."

"Already?"

"Serum," she explained simply. "Thor's stuff manages to hit me, which most stuff doesn't, but it still doesn't last too long."

Bruce considered the parameters of stupid, and whether or not the promise applied to him either. Was it even worth it to try and follow up from his question in the theater? It had been two weeks ago, and immediately followed by nonstop holiday prep, and then paperwork in the aftermath of the Christmas Eve disaster, and then New Year's planning. Who knew if she even remembered?

Eventually, he decided that yes, it would be stupid to try and ask. Especially if she was still drunk—that was just weird. He didn't need an answer that desperately.

"You drink?" Audrey asked, taking in the drink in his hand with some degree of surprise.

"Sips," he replied. "Nothing that's—you know. Nothing hard."

She nodded. "No mead," she said, understanding.

Bruce laughed and shook his head. "Yeah. Definitely no mead."

"Are you hot for professor over there, or something?"

Caroline pointed over from her spot on the couch. Audrey followed the line of her hand to Bruce, who waved at her awkwardly from the poker table. Tony elbowed him and he jumped, focusing back on the game. She could make out hushed whispers of what they were saying, but nothing interesting or out of the usual.

"Hello?" Caroline prodded, poking Audrey on the shoulder.

"What?" she asked, pulling her eyes away from the poker table and setting them back on her friend. "No," she denied adamantly, even though it wasn't completely true.

Audrey hadn't spoken aloud her five-am revelations to anybody, especially not Caroline, but the thought had stuck with her since first occurring. She had avoided Bruce for the last few weeks in some sort of effort to understand what she was feeling, but hadn't gotten much clarity from it. Mostly, she just missed him.

She knew that everybody would tell her that that was clarity. Maybe that was why she didn't say anything.

"No, definitely not," Audrey added, for good measure. "Bruce and I are just friends. He's easy to get along with."

"The Hulk is easy to get along with?" Caroline deadpanned.

Audrey shook her head and lifted her hand in protest. "I was talking about Bruce. I've only met the Hulk once, and while I wouldn't necessarily call him easy to get along with, he was perfectly nice to me."

Next to Caroline, Molly was playing with the straws of her cocktail, the giant diamond on her ring finger beaming under the low light of Tony's pseudo-casino. "I met him once or twice."

"Really?" Audrey asked.

Molly nodded. "I photographed him once at a press event pre-Hulk. He was kind of a dick."

Audrey frowned. "He did mention that."

The other blonde laughed out loud. "That he has a major ego?"

"Well—"

Molly waved her away. "It was ten years ago. I'm not mad about it. He's changed, clearly." Audrey turned back to Bruce, who was being pelted with cards by Tony and Nat, and not even bothering to stop them. When they'd both emptied their hands, the three women turned back to each other and Molly lifted her leg up to the cushion. The cuffed bottom of her jeans rose, revealing something purple beneath her Mary Janes.

"Are those Hawkeye socks?" Audrey asked, leaning forward.

Caroline snorted. "Don't get her started."

"Are you serious?" Molly swatted her in the shoulder. "Hawkeye's my wildcard," she explained.

Audrey shook her head. "Your...what?"

"Like, if I had to pick a guy to date, I'd pick him."

Audrey looked over at the other couch, where Clint and Kate were taking turns launching themselves over the seatback and yelling Parkour! between attempts. Of all the men in the world, Molly had settled on that? "Are you sure?" Audrey asked.

"Well," Molly started, downing the rest of her drink. "Meeting him in person is definitely ruining it for me, but look at his arms. He's ripped."

Maybe it was the serum, or her own personal career history, or the people she lived with, but Clint seemed scrawny to Audrey when put next to the rest of the Avengers. Maybe Bruce was weaker, but he made for it in Hulk-ness, so she had always considered it canceled out.

"I told you that Barton was a dork," Caroline grumbled. "He literally always steals the coffee from the break room at HQ. I think it's on purpose, just to deprive everybody else, not even because he wants it."

Molly elbowed her fiance. "Oh, do you want me to get into your wildcard?" she asked.

"No!" Caroline protested, almost immediately. "We don't need to share this with Audrey. This is a professional function, honey, and she's my former boss, so I really don't think it would be appropriate to—"

"It's Fury," Molly announced, and Audrey couldn't keep the disgust off her face.

"Director Fury?"

"Oh, man. I forgot I'm not supposed to know about him." She chewed on an ice cube. "Too late now."

"I think it's just the eyepatch," Caroline explained. "Hear me out. You know how Keira Knightley is a pirate in that movie?"

Audrey shook her head adamantly, screwing her eyes tightly shut. "No, no, no. You cannot explain this with that."

She hunched back over and sunk into the couch, crossing her arms over her chest and scowling. "Well, then, I'm all out of ideas." Caroline unzipped her boot and pulled her foot out, where her own socks donned Captain America's shield. "I wore these to support you and your new endeavors since you bailed on us, and you won't even let me play the Keira Knightley card."

"She's just joking," Molly supplied, before Audrey could ask if Caroline was serious about being upset. "Tell her about the new girl."

"Oh!" She dropped the grouchy act and perked back up. "Yasmin. Aud—it's the funniest story. She was, like, a vigilante at Columbia, and we had an undercover operative there posing as a female student. So the operative gets a check-in from another agent, who was wearing a suit at the time, and Biswas thought he was trying to hurt the girl so she clocked him. She won against a Level 8, as a college student moonlighting as a vigilante." After another swig of beer, Caroline tugged on the end of her hair. "She's incredible. I mean, not as good as me, but still good."

Audrey rolled her eyes. "Nobody's as good as you, Care."

She shrugged, but the grin on her lips said that she was more than convinced. "Well, if you insist."

"How does she get along with Claud and Lindsey?"

"She does alright," Caroline replied. "She and Lindsey get along well. I think she's a little bit afraid of Claudia."

"Understandable," said Audrey. "She's kind of hard to read. I still don't know if we're friends."

"She misses you," Caroline assured her. "She's just...you know how cats are? When they express love? Like, they're really mean, but then you're busy and then they want your undivided attention?"

"Got it."

"She's like that."

"Hey, Carmichael!" Tony hollered from across the room. "You wanna play poker? $10,000 buy-in."

Caroline arched an eyebrow. "Counter-suggestion. I pay zero dollars, and when I win you buy me a new car."

"Yeah, okay," Tony agreed. "Audrey?"

Audrey glanced back at Caroline, and then at the table, where Bruce gave her a small smile. Poker was a terrible idea, given her inability to lie well, but it wasn't the worst idea she'd ever had. And given the fact that Tony's chosen currency for this party was chocolate coins, Audrey felt like it was a pretty low-stakes risk. So reluctantly, she nodded. "Okay, yeah. Sure."

"Barkeep?" Tony called, to nobody in particular. "Another round, on me."

"You know," Tony said, a toothpick balanced delicately between his teeth. "I think you could give Romanoff a run for her money."

Caroline laughed. "I think we could give you a run for your money."

He rolled his eyes, pulling the toothpick out of his mouth and holding it between two fingers like a cigarette. "Yeah, okay, but that's not news. You could each do that individually."

Audrey had very little idea how this game worked or what a good hand was, and she'd folded for the last two rounds. Now, she was just sitting beside Bruce and Molly and watching Tony and Caroline duel it out.

"You know what," Caroline said, leaning in. "I'm gonna give it to you straight." She presented her hand—three to seven.

Tony threw his own hand down. "Dammit. Three of a kind."

"Should we start making bets on this?" Audrey asked Bruce.

He snorted. "I'll bet you a chocolate coin that Caroline's gonna kick Tony's ass for the rest of these rounds."

"Well, I agree, so kind of a dumb bet for me to make," Audrey replied.

Bruce held out a coin. "Want this anyway? I don't like chocolate." She eyed him suspiciously, but seized it from his hand anyway. "What was that?" he asked.

"What was what?"

"That look."

"I don't trust anyone who doesn't like chocolate," Audrey admitted. "Are you at least allergic, or something?"

Bruce shook his head. "Nope," he replied. "I just don't like it."

"And when you say you don't like it, is that that you just like other things better, like you don't like it as much, or do you not–"

"I don't like it at all. Too sweet."

Audrey frowned. "Your dark secret, finally revealed."

"You don't think I have enough of those already?"

Under the table, Audrey covered his hand with her own, quick and then gone, so that by the time she'd managed to register the fact that they were touching, she'd already folded her hands back together in her lap.

So Bruce didn't like chocolate. Unfortunate, and also incorrect, but she still filed it away to remember for later, along with every other detail about him she'd been noting for the last several months. Bruce didn't like chocolate, he preferred his tea loose-leaf, he had a bastard dad and grew up in Ohio.

When she remembered the question hanging in the air, Audrey hurriedly answered, "No. You're finally perfect."

He fought to suppress a smile, ending up hiding the half of his face she could see with his hand, before chancing a cautious look out at her. "Far from it," he mumbled.

She shrugged. "Closest I've seen."

"Hey, Audrey," Tony called, still eyeing his cards with an impressive degree of hyperfocus. "Do you think you'd beat Thor in a drinking game?"

She froze, afraid to answer for fear of giving Tony any more bad ideas. "No," she responded flatly, after the silence had stretched out for an uncomfortably long time. "No, I do not think I could outdrink a demigod." Bruce was side-eyeing her from his spot, looking as nervous and confused as Audrey felt. "Why?"

Tony ignored her question. "What about your dad?"

"I don't want to try to outdrink my father, but thank you."

"You guys are boring," Tony chided. "Consider yourself uninvited to my next rager."

It was for the best that Audrey hadn't accepted Bruce's bet, because they spent the rest of the hour watching Caroline clobber him. Playing poker against an assassin-slash-spy probably wasn't Tony's wisest ideas, but it ranked pretty high in terms of his bravest.

When they'd abandoned the game, Audrey had returned to the bar with Caroline, who demanded a shot of Thor's weird, Asgardian booze, and promptly passed out. Hubris was going around. Meanwhile, Bruce had settled back down on the couch to stare out the giant windows bordering the common floor. New York City didn't allow much stargazing, but there was something calming about the stillness of the Manhattan skyline.

They were ten minutes out from midnight when Audrey returned to his side, a glass of lemonade in her hand.

"Almost midnight," she said, blowing out a breath.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Got anyone to kiss?"

Bruce had done his best to keep his tone light when asking, even though he did want to know. Still, despite his best efforts, the question was met with a panicked and uneven laugh from Audrey. "Nope," she said. "No, I actually think romance might be dead for me." A frown. "Forever."

Well, that wasn't exactly hopeful. "Why?" he asked.

Audrey shrugged, looking defeated in a way that made Bruce, honest to god, want to hold her. "I used to think I had...a shot. Never at something serious or, or long term or anything but at something. I've...well, I've dated. Before. I had a boyfriend during New York, actually." She scrunched up her face. "The world changed when we all came out of the shadows. I used to push paperwork for a team. My job was never dangerous to someone else, and then Loki invaded. And I—well, I thought that maybe if I was with somebody who was also in the game it would be different, but then Moscow happened."

He didn't know if he should ask—or even if he could. The S.H.I.E.L.D. red tape was her world, not his, and he didn't know what was allowed or not. It didn't hurt to try, did it? "Moscow?" he asked gently.

Audrey took a deep breath. "I was involved with someone. And then I almost got her killed. Among other terrible things that happened."

"Oh," he said, feeling dumb.

She laughed, but it was devoid of anything adjacent to joy. "I just think maybe I wasn't built to be loved like that." She shrugged.

Bruce watched her play with a loose thread on the hem of her dress. "What stops you from leaving?" he asked. "Don't tell me S.H.I.E.L.D.'s got you locked into some sort of contract."

"No, no. They don't. And I could, but still. I don't…" she trailed off, searching for the end to her sentence. "I don't know if I can die," she admitted. "And it's not like I've tried, or anything, and I'm sure that I'm—that I'm killable, but...nobody knows how the serum works with me. I know—I know my father has it, but it's not the same. I don't know if it'll affect us in the same way. I just know that I'll outlive everybody I love." She looked at him—really looked at him, in the same way she did sometimes late at night in the labs, or in darkened theaters, in the way that terrified Bruce and made him feel more real than he had in fifteen years. "When you said, um, on the Helicarrier in April. When you said that you tried to die but you couldn't?" She shifted, her mouth straightening into a line. "I know this is–this is horrible to say, and I'm sorry—I'm so sorry, I just—knowing someone else who didn't...know if they could. It made me feel less alone than I've felt in a long time."

Bruce leaned back. Not much good had come from what happened that day on the Helicarrier. Coulson had been killed, and the ship had almost fallen out of the sky, and he had been sent tumbling down to earth, even if he didn't remember it.

"Well, at least there's that," he said. "We may be miserable until the world ends, but we'll have each other."

Audrey gave him a small, hesitant smile. "Some good news, there." She looked down at her hands, and then back at him. "As far as company goes, you're not so bad."

Bruce gave her a wry smile. "You know how to make a guy feel special."

She reached for his hand. "You're special to me, Bruce," she assured him, and he felt his face heat up despite himself.

"Hey, countdown's starting!" Tony called. Audrey started, and looked at Bruce.

"Let's—should we go watch the ball drop?" she asked, standing and smoothing the skirt of her dress without letting go of his hand.

Bruce nodded, slowly. "Uh, y-yeah. Let's go."

She guided him over to the window. If the skyline was peaceful, Times Square below was riotous, crowds packed together screaming and cheering loudly enough for him to hear it from a hundred-odd-stories above. He glanced over at Audrey, who was fixated on the festivities below. He wondered if midnight was going to be something.

They hit ten, and the new year was rapidly approaching. Audrey looked up at Bruce, something small and delicate playing on the corners of her mouth. Was she nervous, or was that the usual reluctance she wore around? Nine came around quick, and Bruce found himself jostled by Tony, who threw an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. He stumbled away from Audrey at eight and regained his balance at seven, and then at six she squeezed his hand tight before letting go. When the clock hit five, she turned towards him again, grinning brightly for four and three and two, and then turning back to Times Square for one, and when the clock finally hit zero, Bruce vaguely registered several of the people at the party leaning into kisses, but all he could do was freeze. Audrey turned to him, her smile faltering, and Bruce couldn't tell if it was from her own nerves or disappointment that he hadn't made a move when she wanted him to, but then Pepper was pulling him into a hug and Tony was ambushing Audrey with an embrace, and the rest of the party was cheering and throwing back champagne in crystal flutes, and the moment was over, just as quickly as it had come.

Hours later, everyone else had headed to afterparties, or back to their floors, and the common room was quiet and desolate save for the caterers cleaning up in the kitchen. But even they headed out soon after, and then it was just the two of them. Audrey and Bruce. She had her head resting in his lap, watching the city lights flickering on and off in the distance. The couch was big enough for her to not need to be so close, but moving away from him had the same feeling as getting out of bed on a winter morning—lonely and bitter.

Audrey reached for her glass on the coffee table and threw back the last of the mead. As the night had gone on, the taste had gotten less bitter and the feeling it gave her had gotten more pleasant, and she was dizzy and happy with the drunken stupor it had put her into.

Bruce's arm was draped over her waist, and Audrey turned over so that she was facing him. "Bruce?" she said. She wanted to kiss him, still. She knew it without needing someone to tell her so, and she had known it, with some degree of certainty, for a while now. But knowing what she wanted and going after it were miles apart in her book, and Audrey had never been accustomed to making those sorts of leaps.

He looked down at her, eyes heavy-lidded, with some degree of adoration she couldn't measure or process without risking her ability to keep it together. "Yeah?"

She pursed her lips. What was stopping her? Many, many things. Her fear of rejection. Her tendency to put people's lives in danger. The fact that Bruce, of all people, needed to be regarded with gentleness and care, and she didn't know if circumstances allowed for that to be the case. Audrey knew what she wanted, but she also knew why she didn't deserve it, and that made it even more unforgivable when she asked Bruce, "R'member when I told you not to let me do something stupid?"

He nodded, seriously. "I remember."

Audrey sat up, pausing when she'd straightened to wait for the world to stop spinning, and curled her legs under her, settling on the couch next to him. "I need to run something by you and your seven PhDs."

"Okay," Bruce agreed.

She put a hand on his shoulder. "Um, okay. Ask me the question from the theater again," she ordered.

"Which question?"

"The one—the one before Tony sat down. With the popcorn, and he was talking and we all got shushed."

"Aud…" Bruce started, mouth flubbing open around words that didn't come. He was pleading with her, now, but Audrey was feeling just brave enough to ignore the warning in his voice.

"Please," she said. "Please just ask me again."

He let out a slow, deep breath. Audrey bit her lip and wished it was Bruce's teeth. He was shaking, just barely, under her palm, and she wanted to make whatever it was that was scaring him stop. Something in Bruce was trembling, always trembling, and every time she noticed it, she wanted to take his hands and press them to her heart and swear to take care of him until the world ended, since they'd both probably be around for it anyway, however it came and with however many blades and bullets.

"Was it supposed to be a date?" Bruce asked quietly.

Audrey let her eyes slide shut. She'd been right. He had known, even if she hadn't, and she'd been right! She nodded, and took his hand in her own. "Bruce," she said.

"Audrey," he answered, his voice wavering on the u.

Opening her eyes, she took in his face, bathed in the glow of the city lights and still masked by the shadows of the now-dark, empty room. "I need you to tell me if something's stupid."

He lifted a brow. "Okay," he agreed, not much more than a whisper, even quieter than before. She could feel him trembling then, uncertain and held together haphazardly by several daily rituals that Audrey had recently made a job out of disrupting.

"Kiss me?" she asked. "Or is that stupid?"

Bruce's eyes closed, and he sighed, but didn't pull away. His face twisted into a wince that Audrey couldn't have stood sober, and could barely tolerate now. After a moment, he opened his eyes and lifted his hand, hovering his shaking palm over the side of her face. "Audrey, c'mon. You know—" He cut himself off. "You know," he repeated, the words fuller than they'd been a few seconds ago.

Audrey did know. But even now, letting go of herself a little more, she still wasn't sure of herself. "Just tell me, Bruce."

"It's not a good idea," he said quietly. "Audrey, you know that I–I want to. But I can't."

"You wanted it to be a date," Audrey asked, but not really.

"Of course I did."

"And you want to kiss me?"

His voice caught in his throat, but Bruce nodded. "Yeah. Yes, I do. I have. But not...not like this."

"What's wrong with this?" she asked, leaning forward and gesturing wildly around them.

He laughed, for real this time, and Audrey couldn't help but feel pleased that it had been her doing, even though part of her felt like it was at her expense. "You're drunk, Audrey."

"But I want this when I'm sober, too," she protested. "All the time. I come to your lab and I watch you work or when I'm in your apartment and you're making coffee—I just—all the time. And so much. So badly."

Bruce drew his thumb over the swell of her cheekbone, and then pulled away. Audrey knew he wasn't touching her, but she felt anyway like he was all over her body, steady and even. "You're still drunk," he reminded her gently.

"Okay. Well what if I wasn't?"

"If you weren't, I'd still tell you it's a bad idea," Bruce said. He wrung his wrists nervously.

"For who?"

"For you."

"I think I'll be the judge of that," Audrey drawled insistently. "And I think you're no more dangerous than anything else in my life. You're safe to me. I'm safe with you."

Bruce racked a hand through his hair. "I'd trust your judgment more if you were sober," he admitted.

Audrey blew out a breath. "Okay. I've said this sober, though, I would like to point out."

He gave her an easy smile. "Audrey," he said, with all the force of a dozen different questions.

"Okay, okay," she sighed. "You know, though. I wanted you to know."

"Thank you for telling me," he said politely.

Audrey opened her mouth to reply, and then something kicked in her stomach. The temperature in the room dropped a few degrees with the realization, and she threw herself across the room as fast as her legs would move to the trashcan in the kitchen. She yanked it out from the shelf and bowled over, throwing up. Maybe getting shitfaced on alien booze hadn't been her best move.

When she raised herself to find Bruce standing at the edge of the counter, looking worried, she wanted to die. Good for her—she'd confessed her feelings for him—humiliating—and then immediately after, thrown up in front of him. He didn't say anything, judgmental or otherwise, instead pulling a glass from the cabinet and filling it with water from the sink. Audrey fumbled for the straps of the trash bag, knotted them, and brought it over to the garbage chute. After she'd tossed it, she turned to find Bruce holding the water out for her.

"Let me walk you to your room," he offered.

Audrey gulped down half the glass and shook her head. "No, no. Tony says the communal glasses need to say on this floor," she slurred.

Bruce hovered a hand over the small of her back. "If Tony says anything, just tell him to talk to me. I'll take care of it, okay?"

She nodded, feeling stupid and embarrassed and worst of all, still a little too drunk to confront the facts she was working with. "Thank you. You don't have to take care of me," she said as he pressed the button for the elevator.

"I know," he said. "I don't mind taking care of you."

Audrey tried to decode what that meant as she stumbled into the elevator and braced herself on the railing. I don't mind taking care of you. "I always wanna take care of you," she said. "You're shaking all the time. I wanna take care of you whenever I see you shaking."

Bruce didn't say anything to that, and Audrey almost didn't mind, but the part that did had been knocked out by an eveningsworth of heavy drinking. Instead of thinking too much, Audrey slumped back against the wall and tried to get one last good look at Bruce, before letting her eyes slide shut.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you thought of this chapter :^) we're kind of through with all of the fun, lighthearted chapters now and will be heading back into a mission for a bit that helps set up the arc for The Winter Soldier a bit more! There is more braudrey angst to come, though, I promise.

Chapter 18: Reign of Terror

"That little swan better be careful before somebody wrings her neck." Natasha pulled the phone away from her ear cautiously. She didn't say it—neither of them did—but for once, Audrey knew what the assassin was thinking. Red Room.