Note: Fully half of this chapter is some pretty intense sex. If for some reason you're not looking for that, you can skip ahead to the break, made up of 8888s.
Chapter Eleven
Tony's couch is ridiculously comfortable, even stretched out across it rather than sitting up as it's designed. Leigh hadn't realized how much she'd been stopping herself from thinking about Tony until she got this chance to do it without restrictions. Over the past weeks, she'd been telling herself that she was lovesick, ridiculous, expecting too much, only to have that last belief (the other two are still firmly established) blown away entirely by two words.
And honestly, weren't they almost better than the other three? With 'me too,' your own agony was over, after all. With 'me too,' you're a team, there's no uncertainty.
With 'me too,' Leigh's even farther gone than she was before.
There was also 'Fuck the meeting,' those were three very welcome words too, despite not bearing out. Honestly, though, the anticipation of Tony's exhortation to wait for him is different from any other sexual situation Leigh's ever been involved in, and she's here for it.
She can't even credit herself for deliberately choosing the cute bra and panty set she's got on. They're white lace, not the most comfortable that she owns, but outrageously, Tony's people washed her clothes during the transfer from her D.C. apartment over to NYC. She's finally through all of them (and that reminds her, she needs to ask FRIDAY about laundry after having checked her apartment thoroughly and not finding any machines), meaning her 'someday I aspire to be sexy' set is what she's wearing today.
Leigh's been on the couch for at least a half hour, her arousal ramping up in anticipation. Every so often she slides up one knee and presses her thighs together. About ten minutes ago she put her hands over her head, on top of her hair, to stop herself from smoothing her hand across her stomach and down, to ease some of that ache.
The small sound of the elevator dinging feels like a reward.
"Oh my god, I'm going to catch fire, right here, right now," Leigh whispers to herself. There's no way she can be more turned on, and yet she knows that as soon as he touches her, she will be. She just knows. Leigh closes her eyes and tries to school her face to a neutral expression.
"I can't even see you, but I know you're there, and let me tell you, you are the only reason that meeting was in any way worth it," Tony says from across the room. Leigh grins. "You're there, right?" he adds.
Leigh slides up her right leg until her heel touches her ass, and then she lifts her leg up, straightening it out and letting it fall back down out of sight. She hears Tony swear under his breath and decides the movement was worth the fact that her flouncy skirt is probably not perfectly arranged over her hips anymore.
"Can I hire you to make every single meeting worth it? Wait, no. That would make this dirty, and that would be wrong." Leigh can hear his (sarcastic, sexy) voice coming toward her, and she ducks the fingers of one hand into her outspread hair to grab a handful, just to have something to hold onto. Tony's still talking, and she loves it. "Definitely not supposed to like dirty," he's saying. She can hear the swish of fabric, and wonders if he had been wearing a tie or a suit jacket.
There's a thump of something hitting the ground, and Leigh can only wonder what it was. Her hips rock just a bit as she tries to adjust to the heat between her legs. She wonders whether she'll be able to tell when Tony is close enough to see her.
"I mean, if you are into that sort of thing, I suppose I can make the sacri- fuck. "
Leigh doesn't wonder anymore.
"God, look at you breathing. It's shaking your whole body," Tony whispers. "That is painfully hot."
Leigh bites her lip.
"Fuck, you're not going to talk to me, are you? Just like- fuck. Did you turn your right wrist out so I could see my name on you? You are everything right now. That outfit is the most innocent thing I've ever seen you wear, and you're still pure sex laid out like that."
Tony's voice is liquid metal cascading all over her, dipping down into her secret places and lighting them up. Leigh can't help her reaction, she tries to hold it in, but she can feel her nipples tighten, her chest heave, and her hips arch as she listens to him praise her.
He's walking around the couch, she can tell by the way his voice is moving. "Look, I know when two people mean something to each other you're supposed to do the wholesome stuff first, scatter flower petals, or whatever, but I would really like to see how long you can stay quiet. Call it penance for how this all started, hmm?" Tony says, his voice somehow both commanding and pleading.
Leigh lets out a breath and somehow manages to nod.
"I bet you've been stretched out on my couch like that for at least half the time I was gone, haven't you?" Tony murmurs. She feels a brief weight on the cushion by her hips, but she doesn't move her head from its position, eyes closed, facing up. "Were you thinking about me that whole time?" His voice is very near, and Leigh realizes he's got to be kneeling beside the couch. Tony's strong as fuck, he wouldn't need to steady himself on the couch. He did it for her, she thinks. To ramp her up. "How wet do you think you are by now, do you think?" His lips are less than an inch from her ear.
Leigh's back arches up, her ass pressing into the couch cushion. Less than two hours ago she'd been hoping he'd talk to her like one of his machines, and now she understands what that feels like. Fuck, she wants to perform just like he asks her to. Her face flames at the very thought.
"Am I going to have to touch you to get any of those sexy noises?" Tony asks. His tone has a deep, sensual amusement to it that makes her yearn to groan.
She absolutely will not, though.
Leigh wants to make him beg.
"Fuck I can practically hear your thoughts, you know that? They're written on your face. Think you're more stubborn than me?"
Leigh turns her head to bury her grin in her right shoulder. Before she turns her head, she feels a heat around her left nipple. She can picture him, hair mussed from running his hands through it during the meeting thinking about her, jacket tossed, tie loose, shirt unbuttoned, kneeling beside the couch. His eyes would be dark with want, his body angled over her without touching anything, core muscles tensing, mouth open to breathe heat over her nipple.
If it weren't for his ego and her determination, she would have let out the most deep, agonized moan right now. Instead, Leigh tosses her head back, holding her torso rigid.
When he touches her, it'll be because he chooses to, not because she arches up into him, she decides. Because yes, she thinks she's more stubborn than he is. Tony might be Iron Man, but Balci women are made of steel.
"How much do you like this shirt, Leigh?" Tony asks her next. Her shrug is as artful as a girl can get when her veins are being slowly injected with whiskey from the cunt up. "Hold still," he says, and then she feels the hem of her shirt lift.
The absolute troll figured out how to pick it up without touching her at all, too. Tony's probably grinning, smug as heck.
Leigh sucks in a breath as her shirt jerks once. She imagines that he's sliced it with some kind of knife. It had never occurred to her that he was sexually imaginative, which seems like the most naive thought she's ever had in her entire life, from this vantage point.
"It's a shame you're so determined to keep your eyes shut, love, because this is probably going to be hot, even if I say so myself," Tony says. His voice is above her, and she can completely picture him, one fist on either side of her tank top-
It only takes one mighty tear to rip the shirt up all the way to her neck. Leigh has to yank on her own hair under her hands above her head to stop herself from doing anything more than tremble. It's the endearment that gives her the strength to hold it together- Leigh's face flames up again, but all she can think to herself is that she wants to earn that 'love,' every bit as much as she wants to fucking break him.
"I owe you a shirt, but looks like I won't owe you a bra. Three cheers for front closure," Tony says, and the joyful, sardonic tone almost gets her to laugh out loud, something she never would have expected. Damn him. "So, here we are, the first touch. I'm proud you've made it this far. I'm proud I've made it this far," Tony says conversationally. "But, where?"
Leigh sucks in a breath and holds completely still. She doesn't even breathe. She's not going to help him.
"You're a little minx," he says, totally getting it. "Okay, you wanna play? Let's play."
He's silent for thirty fucking seconds, she counts it out in her head, but then, shockingly, she feels his warm palm on her knee.
Leigh bites her lip.
"Yeah, that's right. Didn't think that through, did you?" Tony says. He's trash talking her, and it's the most sexy, ridiculous thing Leigh's ever been involved in. She loves him so much it hurts.
Tony strokes up her leg in one smooth move, palm preceded by his fingers laid flat against her begging skin. His fingertips are rough, and Leigh pictures them, meticulous, precise, working on wiring, metal, silken skin. He's moving slow. Every single part of Leigh is focused on that point of contact as he gets closer and closer to her panties. Once on her thigh, Tony digs his fingertips in just enough to catch under the thin band that holds the skimpy white lace in place.
There's another yank on the material. He's cut through it, too.
"I will buy you the sexiest red lace panties you've ever seen. They'll wreck me, I promise," Tony whispers.
It's hard to narrow your eyes when they're screwed shut, but Leigh manages.
"Here, I'll just-" and Tony sucks a kiss on her hip, right where her ruined panties were cut. His lips are hot for the few seconds they're on her, the few seconds before she arches her back so hard she nearly sprains something, because that's it, that's the hottest thing ever, he hasn't even touched her anywhere important, but nothing could be better than that. Leigh feels like Tony's just welded himself to her heart, with that kiss.
Tony chuckles, but he sounds almost shaken. He's accidentally lifted his hand, which means she's winning, too. "I'm convinced you made a noise there, it's just only audible to small children and dogs."
There's a period of silence during which Leigh seriously contemplates opening her eyes and telling Tony to just take her, because tomorrow's another day, and being generous is in her nature.
"I can smell you," Tony says. There's a different quality to his voice, and it's somehow more intense than it has been. It's not playful anymore, it's wanting, and even though Leigh didn't think there was any further for her to ramp, that tone has dragged her there. She feels her skirt being lifted up, pooled across her stomach. "You know, that first day in the tower, after you kissed me, I went up to the penthouse, got in the shower, and fantasised about touching you."
Leigh can't stop herself, she presses her thighs together, even though she knows he's right there, he'll see.
"I pictured sliding my hand down the waistband of your skirt and panties- they were lace. I fucking love lace. I wouldn't sacrifice these for anything less hot than this," Tony tells her, tugging on the remaining elastic of her white lace panties.
Leigh's breathing hitches. She's so wet, they'll be sopping. Seconds later, he's cut that last obstacle. Adrenaline shoots through her, and in an instant, she feels vulnerable. Their sexy game is one thing, but Tony Stark used to be the womanizer, even if he isn't anymore, and he's been with so many beautiful women, experienced women. Who is she to even think she's got any kind of power over him?
"Yep. Single most erotic moment of my life, right here."
Leigh opens her eyes and lifts her head up to glare at him in adoring disbelief. And, God, he looks wrecked. He's next to the couch, shirt undone just like she'd pictured, hair all fucked up, eyes dark. Tony's kneeling on his right knee, his left knee is up, and he's leaning on it, looking up the length of her body.
"You should believe me. Look at you. You haven't asked me for anything. You never have. Out of the two of us I genuinely can't tell which is more turned on, and that's saying something." Tony gestures to his waistband, which he has unzipped, the expensive material gapping around his bulging boxer briefs. "Honestly, fuck holding out. I give. Ask me to touch you."
Leigh knows she has a choice, here. Her instinct is to trust him.
She shifts her arms down from their position clasped over her head. Tony hadn't explicitly told her to leave them there, anyway. Her heart pounding, Leigh unfastens the front clasp of her lace bra and reaches down to drag her skirt out of the way. Tony's eyes are fixed on hers, hungry, admiring. When her hand moves between her legs, though, his gaze shifts to watch. With every ounce of courage she has, Leigh grabs the scrap of lace that used to be her panties and tugs them away, lifting her hips so the soaked cloth will pull free.
Tony lets out a groan that prompts her to rock her hips, completely unconsciously. His hand flies out and takes the white lace, and Leigh throws her head back and closes her eyes, because her hand is wet, and so is she, and it's not shameful, but it's something. The last few minutes have been the most intense, empowering experience of her life, and Tony's still barely touched her.
"Hey," Tony says, and she opens her eyes.
To her surprise he's shifted forward, leaning over her. His left arm reaches over and grabs the back of the couch, and with his right, Tony presses his thumb against his name on the arm she's got draped over her forehead.
"This is-" He looks down and swears, lightly, because he so clearly and obviously has forgotten that she'd opened her bra. "Okay, that's distracting," he says, and it's so him that Leigh laughs silently. "Right. I was telling you something." Tony's expression shifts from amused to completely serious. "Things you probably don't know about me yet include the fact that I'm more than a little possessive in bed. Here's hoping you like that, because-"
Leigh's already nodding, nodding, because she absolutely likes that. A lot.
Tony rests his head on her chest for one delicious second. "Excellent."
When he lifts back up, Leigh reaches up and touches his face with her right hand. He grabs it with his left and swirls his tongue on the Tony on her wrist. The heat and intimacy of it reminds Leigh that they've been at this for at least twenty minutes and she wants him. She tries to pull his head down to hers, and Tony's there with her, leaning down and licking into her mouth like it's his to enjoy, and it totally is.
"So I gave in, but you won't, will you? I told you not to make noise, and you'll lie there and burst into fucking flames for me, but you won't make any noise?" Tony says between sucking, fierce kisses. He sounds delighted and frustrated and sexy. Leigh is absolutely bursting into flames, and for the first time in her entire life, she wants to be vocal. Next time, she promises herself.
She looks up at Tony, who has lifted his head to look down at her, and a tantalizing thought comes to her.
Winning is one thing, but what about yielding? What if that's exactly what this amazing man needs?
Tony's expression shifts, and he moves his body back, but not by much. He rests his left hand on her stomach and one side of his mouth curves up at the way she immediately sucks in a breath.
Finally, Leigh thinks.
His gaze locked on hers, Tony slides his hand down, down, down, never pausing, his rough, warm fingers sinking into her folds. Tony groans, the sound ripped from his chest, just about. Leigh doesn't even try to pretend she's not affected. She arches her hips into his hand, her entire body focused on where he's touching her. The pleasure is unreal, particularly after such a wait. It takes all her remaining self-control not to reward him with the moan that's begging to tear free from her own throat.
But Leigh has plans.
His gaze sharpens. "That's all for me, isn't it?"
Fuck, Leigh thinks. She nods.
Tony strokes her, confident and rough. She rocks her hips up, and Tony turns his body, resting his right hand on her stomach, pressing. He's working on her, and she feels a cry rise up in her throat. If he's going to exhort her, praise her, like he'd done in the lab, she's not sure she'll hold out for what she wants to do.
"You're going to come for me, just like I pictured while I was in the meeting, aren't you?" Tony asks. His voice is warm and raw.
Leigh reaches up and claws a hold on the top of the couch with her right hand, hooking her left along the side of the cushion. Tony notices, chuckles, nods. Her whole world is centered on his hand on her, and then he taps, just taps his thumb on her clit. Leigh digs in her heels and thrusts up toward him, but Tony is strong, and he holds her down. She starts shaking. She's not going to make it, she's going to moan. It's building, just as surely as her orgasm.
Tony's reaction to her orgasm is going to do it if nothing else does.
Then, he says what she's been waiting for.
"You're going to come for me, because you're mine, aren't you?"
"Yes. I'm yours," Leigh gasps out, nearly sobbing with pleasure.
Tony's reaction is immediate. His hands on her freeze for a split second, and then he's standing, hands scrabbling at his pants, his boxer briefs, shoving and yanking them down.
"Yes, yes, please, yes," Leigh chants as he climbs onto her. Tony's hand is rough and desperate on her hip and then he thrusts home, actually shouting in satisfaction. He seems locked in that position for a few precious seconds while Leigh admires the pained joy in his face, before Tony pulls her to his chest and drops them both down onto the couch.
It's like watching the creation of a whole new thing, to Leigh, and 'bond' isn't quite enough of a word for it. She buries her face in Tony's neck, clutches his hip and his arm and shakes with the joy of it, both physical and emotional.
"You are literally the death of me," Tony kisses into her hairline.
"You asked," Leigh teases, grinning.
"Not that I don't enjoy your smile, but you owe me some noises," he growls at her, darting his hand between them toward where they're joined. Leigh tenses up in expectation, and it must have taken Tony by surprise, because he bites back a moan of his own at the way she tightened around his cock.
"Oops," Leigh whispers.
The sheer determination on Tony's face after she says that is as sexy as it is intimidating.
"Look at me," he commands. As soon as she leans back to better focus on his brown eyes, Tony proceeds to take her apart like one of his suits, expertly and meticulously putting her back together with the absolute knowledge of his mastery over her embedded in each swirl of his fingers.
Every time her eyelids close from the devastating pleasure of his touch and the thrust of his cock inside her, he stops moving.
"Tony, I can't-"
"You can. You will. Just focus on me. Anything that's too much, you vocalize, you got it? Sing for me."
Leigh arches up against him, trying to speed his movements, but Tony's inexorable.
"This is about you," he murmurs, sinking into a kiss that's complete sensory overload until she understands he's done it so she can close her eyes like she'd been begging to. Tony's generous too, and knowing that is both ruinous and revelatory.
It must have been exactly what she needed, too, because as soon as Tony leans back to look at her again, Leigh looks into his eyes and it sends her.
"Fuck, just like that, yes, God, Leigh," Tony groans, and he's coming too. As soon as he can bear to, he nuzzles into a kiss, almost like it's a question. Leigh's heart pangs- could there be a person who wouldn't want to kiss him after that? But Tony's hers just as she's his, now, and anyone who would waste that gift is to be pitied, anyway.
When Tony finally pulls up and away from her, it's only far enough to sit with her legs across his lap. Somehow Leigh's not even self-conscious, but she is getting a little cold, so she pulls her hair down from it's mostly unsnarled position above her head, draping it across her breasts.
"That's it," Tony says. It's a tone of utter conviction.
"What's it?" Leigh asks, still boneless and deeply pleased.
"This is my favorite couch."
8888888888
Leigh wakes up on Sunday morning to her phone ringing. A quick glance at the clock tells her it's 8 AM, not unheard of for phone calls, but still pretty early.
"Hello?" she says, hoping four rings isn't too late for whoever is calling.
"Hello, my name is Dr. Bruce Banner, I'm calling for Mr. Balci?"
"...at eight on a Sunday?" Leigh blurts out.
"Frankly, Miss, I expected to leave a message. If you would like to take one-"
"You- you don't have to leave a message," Leigh says, rubbing her eyes and sitting up in the bed, against the headboard. She pulls her braid out from behind her so she can lean back more comfortably. "This is Leigh Balci."
There's a period of silence as Banner takes in what she's said. "I see. I suspect this is a common misconception."
He sounds unhappy, and Leigh winces.
"My purpose in returning the call is to tell you that on no uncertain terms do I intend to build anything. I don't know who contacted your company, but I can assure you that it was not me. I'd like it if you could give me some information on that caller, as I was under the impression that there were no problems here between myself and my colleagues."
Leigh's suddenly gripped by a powerful sense that she's done something very wrong by lying to this man. It didn't occur to her that he would assume one of his coworkers had called, seeking to… what? Contain him?
"Doctor Banner, please accept my sincere apology. I… No one called, sir. I do work as an architect, but my purpose in contacting you was personal, not professional. I should have trusted my instincts not to lie in that voicemail." She draws her knees up against her chest in bed, holding the phone to her ear with a trembling hand.
"Personal reasons. Is this to do with the Hulk?"
"No, sir. It's-"
"Stop. Give me a minute, Miss Balci."
Leigh sets the phone down beside her for a minute. "Fuck, I am such an idiot."
"Miss?" Banner calls out from the phone. She grabs it, wondering if he'd heard her. Leigh had meant to hit the mute button, but her distress has made her sloppy.
"I'm here."
"Okay, here's what we're going to do. You're NOT going to tell me the reason you called. Instead, you're going to talk to me about something else. Anything else. Just talk to me. You have a soothing voice, and I'm not going to call someone I actually LIKE at 8:15 on a Sunday morning."
"I… okay," Leigh says, incredulity bubbling up inside her. "I don't know what-"
"What have you done in the past few months that would make a decent story, Miss Balci? Work with me."
He sounds… upset. This is Leigh's fault, and this man used to be Tony's friend, and instead of reaching out and fixing things, she's gone and fucked them up. Badly.
"All right. Again, I'm sorry. This past few months, well-" she laughs. "You're in luck, I guess. I have quite a story."
"Go, then."
"This past May I got a new client. Rich guy, remote property near a lake in West Virginia."
"Slow down, I can't smash you over the phone if this doesn't work. You're not in danger, okay? We're going for soothing, remember?"
Leigh feels like the worst person right now. She lets out a long, slow breath. "All right. So the property is pretty remote, and after exchanging some friendly emails, I agreed that myself and the client could camp out on-site to establish where he wanted the house to be situated. When I got there-"
"Did that guy think you were Mr. Balci, too?" Banner interrupts.
"Yes. But I trusted him from the emails. You just get a sense, sometimes, whether someone would treat you differently based on whether you have a female name. Is it unfair? Probably."
"I wish I could say that academia and research is exempt from that."
"Yeah, well," Leigh smiles wryly, even though he can't see it. "We do what we do. Anyway, I got to the property first and decided to walk around the lake, looking at the perspectives toward where I assumed the house would sit. After a little while I felt like I was being watched. I saw there was a man hiding in the bushes, so I called my office and got out my gun."
"There's a twist," Banner says. His voice doesn't have the same weight behind it as it did after she told him about her lie, and Leigh is grateful, for his sake.
"I advanced on the bushes and heard him speaking on the phone. He looked up and saw me, pointed at himself, and said a name. It's the name on my wrist."
"Your client is your Soulmate? And here I thought I'd picked out the twist."
"The thing is, Doctor- I recognized him. He's kind of a public figure. And I didn't know what to do, so I put the gun away and asked my coworker if by any chance she was on the phone with the client. When she said yes, I told her to tell him I was recovering from laryngitis and could reschedule if he wanted."
"No way he fell for that."
Leigh smiles. She can hear that smile in her voice as she responds to Banner, who seems invested in the story. Again, Leigh notes that his voice sounds thinner than it had before. "Turns out this man in particular thinks that soulmates are a bullshit consolation prize and likely hasn't been exposed to any of the structure society has created around it."
"Like the idea that if someone adamantly refuses to speak to you, you might have spoken their Words. Classic romance stuff. Unbelievable."
The idea that the guy who turns into the HULK might indulge in the new genre of soulmate romance is somehow not the strangest part of Leigh's current conversation.
"So, what happened?"
"I feel compelled to ask if you're feeling better?" Leigh says hesitantly. It feels just as deceptive to slowly walk Banner to the end of this story as it did to lie to him in the first place.
"No backing out now. You made your bed, it's time to lie in it, Miss Leigh Balci," Banner says, his voice full of amused chastisement.
"Fair enough," Leigh says, letting her legs slide back down the bed now that she doesn't feel as defensive. "Two days of camping, I wrote everything down on a tablet computer. Then we went our separate ways, communicating by email again."
"You didn't say a word to him? Impressive."
"I'd decided to plan out what I'd say, eventually. It felt like an opportunity I shouldn't let slip away." Leigh can hear the regret in her voice, assumes Banner will too.
"Plan it out? What kind of celebrity is this guy?"
"I saw him one time at the office before the day we broke ground, didn't say anything," Leigh says, mostly ignoring the concern in Banner's voice. He'd said Leigh's voice was soothing, but his is equally so. Bruce Banner seems like a compassionate guy, the kind of person she would value as a friend. Leigh wonders whether he and Tony drifted apart, or if Tony pushed him away. "When he saw me on site again, I chickened out. I didn't want to say it anymore. But I didn't know what to say instead. It's like he wasn't that persona anymore, he was a real man, someone I could like. I tried to avoid him, and he lost his temper. He pulled me away from the worksite, past those bushes I told you about, beside the lake. He told me I was acting childish, and he demanded to know why."
Leigh stops, remembers the look in Tony's eyes, his anger and confusion, the way he threw the loss of her family in her face.
"How shitty was the phrase you said to him?"
Banner doesn't sound upset, but he sounds unhappy. She knows she does, too. Her thoughts about the words that are written on Tony's body are complicated, and she hasn't dealt with them yet, not really.
"Pretty shitty, Dr. Banner. I said them, and I started to walk away, and that's when he came up behind me, threw his arms around me to stop me, and called down a contraption onto our heads."
"Contraption?"
He sounds wary. Leigh doesn't blame him.
"My soulmate's something of an inventor."
Banner sighs deeply, and Leigh hears a clicking sound. She recognizes it in the strangest, most heartbreaking way- it's the sound of someone setting down a pair of glasses on a hard surface. Her mother wore glasses, but the nosepiece never sat comfortably, so if she was on the phone for any length of time with Leigh or any of her siblings, Miriam Balci would take them off and set them down on the glass dining room table. The sound is unmistakable.
"What did you tell him, Leigh? What did you tell Tony?"
"How did you guess?" It's a rhetorical question, and Banner is smart enough to recognize that. "You don't want to hear them. You really don't. You fought Thanos too."
"Let me guess: Tony's invention was some kind of room constructed by joined metal walls? Escape prevented by electromagnetism?"
Leigh's stunned. "I-"
"That was originally created to contain the Hulk. I hope for your sake it wasn't that one. How long did he keep you in there with him? Are you all right? Do you need-"
"It was set to unlock after 48 hours. Honestly, it… wasn't terrible. I don't know why that magic chose me for him, but… I can see the reciprocal." Leigh says that least part in a voice barely audible.
"Where are you now? Do… do you need help? Is he bothering you? Is that why you reached out?"
Leigh has a really strong sense that Bruce Banner might need a project, something to care about, a cause to believe in. Failing that, he might just need a hug.
"I'm in the tower."
"Are you free to leave if you wanted to? Did he force you to go back with him?"
Leigh tries to look at the situation as if she were Banner, and it's easy to see how his concern could be absolutely warranted. She has to walk a fine line, now, because the ability for her situation to sound for all the world like that of an abuse victim is… surprisingly strong.
"I am. He didn't force me, although if you do a google search of my name you'll probably see footage of us leaving the bunker thing he built around us. I'm at the tower mostly because there were press camped out around both my home and my workplace, and the tower too, of course, but as you probably know, the security there is a lot better."
"Did you go out yesterday, by any chance, wearing yellow?"
"Shit are you kidding me?" Leigh says, high-pitched, freaked out. "I thought they were done, they're not clustered around anymore… shit. Did they follow me the whole way?" Leigh is mentally kicking herself. She walked straight from Tony Stark's tower to Captain America's new building, and took the press with her.
"So you're reaching out to all of the Avengers?" Banner asks. There's a change to his voice, but it's not an angry one. He does sound more distant, though.
"Something tells me I should have made nice with the Black Widow first, gotten her to teach me some spy skills, before I tried to reach out to more of you," Leigh says, groaning. "Yes, yes I am. Tony doesn't know, though he will if he ever googles my name, because I am a complete naive idiot."
"Well, judging by the pictures in this article, you're at least a pretty, soothing-voiced, naive idiot," Banner says, in a voice too gentle for the shit she pulled on him today. "So all right, you've hooked me. Why did you call, if it wasn't on Tony's behalf?"
"It is on his behalf, but my behalf first, I guess? Look, you learn a lot about someone when you're stuck in a room with them for forty-eight hours. My own story seems almost karmically opposed to his- probably why the press loves the story so damned much."
"Yeah, I'm seeing that. Your whole family. I'm- shit, what can I even say? I'm sorry, Leigh."
"No, don't. Don't you fucking do that. Doing nothing should make you sorry. Trying? That made you a hero," Leigh says, her voice sharp.
"You speak to Tony with that mouth?" Banner says, but he doesn't sound apologetic anymore.
"He probably loves it," Leigh says.
"So you're not- He's not keeping you there against your will? I was picturing the two of you at odds, him asking you to live there so no one tries to use Tony Stark's soulmate against him. I figured you were reaching out to his old teammates in search of a reality check from a higher power."
"Not against my will at all. Soulmates might be bullshit but my feelings aren't. And I can't- I don't- He's let slip how much he was messed up by his fight with Thanos. Tony told me point blank that he drove you guys away. It's like a second ARC reactor embedded in his chest, one with spikes pointing outward. You can't love someone this much and want to let that stand."
Leigh's managed to keep the tears from her voice but not her face.
"I have to tell you, Leigh, this is not what I expected when I dialed your number today."
She laughs and sniffles at the same time. "Well you did ask for a distracting story."
"I take full responsibility for my involvement, at this point," Banner says, letting out a chuckle. "All right. This is a lot to think about. I'll be honest, I'd be very interested in meeting you, if for no other reason than to see my friend's name on your wrist and buy you a meal in consolation."
"I'm accepting donations, just look for 'Lost My Apartment and Almost Lost My Job, and All I Got In Exchange Is Tony Stark's Soulmark On My Wrist' on GoFundMe," Leigh laughs.
"It just so happens that I have business in New York next weekend, but this article I just read says they saw black lettering on your leg. You should know that if you're trying to trick me, it won't work out well for you," Banner says gruffly.
"By any chance does the picture seem to have the word 'press' visible in any abbreviated form?" Leigh asks, her tone light.
"E S S, yes."
"I wrote 'Fuck the Press' in black magic marker on my leg so they'd catch it with their telephoto when we moved from the bunker to the helicopter, two plus weeks ago. I'd take pictures of my legs to show you they're bare but I'm not sure I can trust you're not actually soliciting for those pictures, Doctor."
Leigh bites her lip, her grin fading as the other line is silent for at least a full minute.
"Please tell me you like Thai food."
"I'll see you in a week, then? Is this a landline?" Leigh says, breathing out a sigh of relief.
"It's my cell. I leave it off most working hours, just in case. Silent mode vibration can startle just as easily as a ringtone."
"I'll wait to hear from you. It's been nice to meet you over the phone, Dr. Banner."
Leigh hangs up, holds her right wrist in the sunlight crossing her bed from the picture window, and snaps a clear image of the word 'Tony' on her wrist. Then she makes a new contact in her phone, names it 'Dr. Banner, WHAT?!' and sends along the photo.
After setting her phone down on the bed beside her, Leigh allows herself a long, luxurious stretch, something she wasn't able to do on the phone. That… had gone just about the best possible way that could ever have been expected.