Bruce had his nose buried in his notebook while the bagel and coffee to his right were growing cold.
"I think you're missing the point of getting out," Tony quipped, staring at his friend behind thick rimmed sunglasses.
"Almost got something," Bruce mumbled, double-checking a formula over his phone.
Tony sipped his coffee and stole a glance at Bruce's writing. "This about the tranquilizers?"
Bruce nodded before taking a quick bite of his bagel. After waking up and taking a necessary cold shower, his mind was focused on the distraction that was science... Until JARVIS beckoned him with an offer to accompany Tony for coffee.
"Can't wait until later?"
Bruce stopped mid-chew and threw Tony a blank stare. Though he saw Tony's lips moving as the question was asked, he could only hear Natasha's raspy voice.
"Banner?"
Bruce swallowed, still fixated on Tony's mouth. His boyish fantasy dream was going to be the death of him.
Tony rolled his eyes behind his dark lenses and brought his attention to his phone.
"The pants can wait," Bruce absently answered.
Tony lowered his glasses to give his partner a judgmental stare. "Pants," he repeated.
"I'll work on those later. Tranquilizers first." After a sip of lukewarm coffee, Bruce returned his focus to Hulk sedatives.
Tony ignored his friend's odd behavior and returned to checking the top news stories. He happened to glance up by pure chance to find Thaddeus Ross standing outside the café's front entrance, chatting to a stranger whose face was blocked by an umbrella. Tony wanted believe he was seeing things, but the thick moustache and proper suit warned him that it had to be the General. "Banner." Tony snapped his fingers in Bruce's face. "There's a book store back there. Go and meet me." He pointed his thumb over his shoulder to the door farthest away from where Ross was lurking.
Bruce's pen stopped moving as he blinked at Tony. "Give me five minutes, Tony."
"It's a woman," he continued. "Blonde, tall, and checking me out," he lied, eyes scanning the door closest to where he and Bruce were sitting. Luckily, Ross seemed too preoccupied with talking to his friend.
Curious, Bruce began to turn his head, but a hiss from Tony stopped him.
"Banner, no!" he urged. "C'mon, manners! Now go. Out that way!" he hurriedly ordered.
"Tony," he sighed.
"Pepper won't mind. I'm just having fun," he winked.
"That isn't what I was concerned about…"
Tony snatched Bruce's notebook out of his hands. "I'll be five minutes tops." He noticed the General waving at his friend. "Buy yourself some books. My treat."
Bruce grabbed his coffee cup and warily eyed Tony as he abandoned his seat.
"Good boy," Tony winked. He made sure Bruce had left through the café's side entrance before returning his attention to the front. Ross was nodding, chuckling, then another wave. Tony slid Bruce's bagel closer to his side of the table and opened up the notebook to a blank page. He heard the door open moments later. Tony lifted his head as the General brushed past his table. "Long time no see," he commented.
Thaddeus stopped and flashed Tony a grin beneath his graying moustache. "Stark."
"Haven't seen you around town in a while," Tony mused. That was a lie. He knew Ross had returned to resume playing his dirty tricks.
"I'm sure you're well aware of who brought me back," he sneered.
"Funny," Tony mused. "I heard he just left town."
"The coward." He stole the unoccupied seat across from the inventor. "Or is this you covering for your new buddy, Mr. Stark?" Ross laced his fingers atop the table.
"Why don't you visit his apartment and see who answers the door?"
Ross began to chuckle. "His former apartment? Or his new home in your very own building?"
Tony's stare hardened. "You like playing spies? 'Cuz I can play that game, too."
"What'll it take to get that threat off your hands?" the General wagered.
"He's not a threat," Tony gruffly answered. "And may I ask what has you so fascinated?"
Ross relaxed in his chair and grinned. "Imagine a super soldier like him, but with total and complete control of his actions."
"You plan to create more Hulks…" Fury was going to love this one unless he already sat through that lecture.
"Intelligent Hulks. Like Captain America," Ross hinted. "That green monster is stronger than a super soldier-it's more useful."
Tony frowned. "You're playing a risky game, General."
"I'd ask you to aid in creating such a soldier, Mr. Stark, but you wipe your ass with money."
"You got cameras on me, too, huh?" Tony playfully commented.
Ross failed to humour him any further. "All I need is a blood sample. Then I'll be out of your hair."
Tony removed his sunglasses so Ross could get a proper taste of his glare. "How about you back off right now? I've got some Benjamins covered in shit that I'll be glad to throw your way."
The General snorted in derision as he rose from his chair. "Not today, Mr. Stark."
Calling Fury could wait. Right now, Tony had someone more important to worry about. He trudged over to the used book store he sent Bruce to and found him flipping through a cookbook. "Find something you like?" He carefully glanced around, wondering if they were being watched this very second.
Bruce set the book back on the shelf. "Just browsing." He carefully observed the thin line that was Tony's mouth. His eyes were unreadable due to his shades. "I hope things with your lady friend went well."
"She wanted an autograph," Tony mentioned as he handed Bruce his notebook back.
"That all?" He gave his friend an unsure smile.
"Yeah," Tony nodded. "I've got a car coming for us. You sure there's nothing here you want?"
"Tony?" Bruce glanced over to his partner's half of the lab. Ever since breakfast, his friend hadn't seemed quite himself. He seemed distracted, more so than usual. "Tony."
"Listening," he mumbled, swiping away at a set of stats on his monitor.
"I'm about to finalize the sedative. Want to take a look?" Bruce offered.
Tony waved a hand through the air. "I'm sure you've got it."
"We should test it later this week," Bruce uneasily continued. "Do you mind shooting the other guy from your jet?"
"I'm busy," Tony answered. "Maybe next weekend." After his heart to heart with the General, he didn't think the Hulk should make any appearances, even in a deserted location. Knowing Ross, he had eyes everywhere. There was a good chance that Bruce wasn't safe, even in his own home.
"Okay," he nodded. "Maybe I'll have those pants ready."
"Good goal," Tony absently agreed.
Bruce observed Tony as he went back to tapping against his monitor's screen. He knew something was wrong. Tony hadn't bothered to look at him since their short lived breakfast in the café. "Is…Is everything alright?" he gently prodded.
Tony subtly nodded his head.
"Tony…"
"I'm feeling like getting subs tonight. You in?"
Bruce hesitated. "Yeah. Sure." The room fell uncomfortably quiet, so he requested that JARVIS play some piano concertos. Tony didn't make a single comment.
"Do you want to grab some coffee?" Bruce had put aside his awkward and sensual Natasha-related dream and gave her a call on a particularly sunny Sunday. Tony's lack of talking during dinner warned him something was wrong, but Tony insisted he was "fine."
Natasha paused for a moment. "I could go for coffee."
"You aren't busy, are you?"
"Just getting in from the gym," she answered. "How about I meet you at Stark's in half an hour?"
"Alright," he agreed. "Take your time."
Natasha noticed a lack of enthusiasm in his voice. "Everything okay, Bruce?"
He tapped his fingers against his thigh while he paced around his bedroom. "Something's had Tony distracted for a good twenty-four hours."
"Work?"
"I don't think so." He shook his head. "Supposedly it was a woman."
"Typical," she breathed.
"I haven't seen Pepper around, either," he worriedly added. "I don't wish to pry, but…"
"They fight," Natasha informed him. "Don't worry-they'll be fine come next week. So, coffee?"
"Coffee," he smiled. "Yeah. I'll wait here for you." Bruce occupied himself with unpacking the boxes in his bedroom and organizing his closet. He found the box with Betty's mementos and sat down on the hard floor. Natasha's gifts were removed and set aside so only pieces of Betty remained. Bruce carefully picked up a newspaper clipping and allowed himself one final look at a black and white portrait. Betty was smiling at him with a smile he swore he'd never forget. He gingerly set the clipping face down in the box and closed the lid. For now, his mementos had a safe place on a high shelf.
All of his dress shirts were soon arranged on hangars and sorted by colour. When the doorbell rang, he was busy folding pants and stacking them into a bottom drawer. He dropped what he was doing to greet Natasha at the door with a smile. Tony's silence made him grateful to now have someone to talk with. "Hello, Natasha."
"Doctor."
She flashed him a sly grin, one that brought Bruce back to his dream. "We should go," he told her. "Uh…One second." He hurried to grab his wallet while Natasha looked around, searching for any changes since her last visit.
"Doing a lot of unpacking?" she asked when he returned.
"Yeah," he nodded, tucking in the back of his shirt as he followed her out the door. "I hope to be done by tonight."
"In between 'science fun time?'" she teased.
Bruce chuckled. "Yes. After 'science fun time.' Maybe Tony will perk up if he hears it called that."
"I really can't see a rejection getting him down," Natasha admonished.
The elevator doors opened for them and he allowed Natasha in first. "First floor, please." He wondered if JARVIS would tattle on him.
"Was she hot?" Natasha continued.
"I never saw her," he replied. "I was sent away."
"You'd fail as a spy, Banner," she dryly commented as the elevator doors opened.
He laughed and ran a hand through his hair. "I chose the right profession… By the way, how was that meeting? If I'm allowed to ask…"
"Confidential," she winked. "But it went well."
"If I choose to be more involved, do you suppose I'd get to be a part of all these secrets?" Bruce's current fear was that he was the reasons for Natasha's "confidential" talk.
"Fury will let you know when he needs you. You're just as much of an Avenger as I am," Natasha promised.
They were just leaving the tower when Bruce noticed the corners of Natasha's lips fall.
Her eyes gave the sidewalk up ahead a quick scan before she turned to Bruce. "We going left or right?"
"Right."
Natasha stayed close to Bruce's side as they walked against the flow of a crowd. "Have you been getting out, or do you stay holed up in the lab all day?" she teasingly wondered.
He observed her face as she shot a passerby a wary glare. "I get out at least once a day," he replied.
She brought her attention forward. "Just watching out for your health."
"Did your meeting have anything to do with that?" he curiously asked.
Natasha rolled her eyes in his direction. "That's all Fury wants to talk about."
"Now I'm tempted to spy on one of your meetings." He began to laugh, but Natasha was quiet as she wore a stoic expression. Suddenly, Bruce knew this wasn't Natasha going out for coffee with him. Rather, it was the Widow. He wondered if it was wise to point out that she seemed distracted. Natasha must have caught him staring because she turned to him and pointed at a Laundromat to their right.
"Have you ever just stopped to people watch?" She made sure Bruce had his eyes fixed to the glass window with chipped paint lettering. "And think what it's like to be someone else?"
His eyes wandered to a mother and small child as they emptied a dryer. "Sometimes."
Natasha kept her eyes glued to the opposite side of the street before acknowledging Bruce. "If you ever need a distraction, it helps."
Her conversation felt more like forced rambling. "Is everything alright, Natasha?"
"Early morning," she expertly lied. "I really need a coffee, to be honest."
"Glad I can help you out."
"Isn't that what doctors do?" she smirked.
"I'm not exactly a medical doctor," he lightly admitted, "but I'm glad you see me that way."
"You mentioned doing medical work before," she corrected.
Bruce laughed. "Well, I have a very basic knowledge."
"I trust you'd get the job done," Natasha shrugged. "You wouldn't give up on anyone."
A gentle smile crossed her lips that made his chest tighten. "Thank you, Natasha. That… that means a lot to me."
"Never change, Bruce."
"How about we go out Friday? My treat." Words of gratitude didn't feel like enough of a "thank you." She had a way of making him happy, and that failed to come easy after the attack on the city.
"Sure." Her tone was far from enthusiastic as she eyed a gentleman in a suit trailing behind them.
"Not pizza," Bruce continued, lost in making dinner plans. "Somewhere nice. How ab-" Natasha's left hand reached around his back and smacked his side. His jaw dropped as he turned to find a man holding a short blade in hand. Dark red was smeared across the sterling silver tip and Bruce's hand instinctively went to his left side. He felt no obvious tears in his shirt, but when his eyes rested on Natasha's left hand, his muscles tensed. Blood. A nick along her middle knuckle left a bright crimson trail trickling down the back of her hand. "Na…tasha…" he gasped.
She made a grab for the stranger's armed wrist, but he whirled around, shoving past another man as he made an escape. Natasha ran after him, shouting at those on the sidewalk to step aside.
"Natasha!" Bruce lurched forward, but a stinging pain in his side forced him to stop. Glancing down to his left side, he found a clean rip above his pants' waistband. Blood seeped through the yellow fabric, startling Bruce into a panic. Someone had his blood- his poison… And there was only one man who he knew to be desperate enough for such a sample. A gunshot from across the street forced his legs to start charging forward. "Natasha!" He caught up with her as they watched the man with the knife hop into a car that was quick to speed off.
"Shit," Natasha breathed. She reached for her phone and managed to steal a blurry photo of the getaway Corvette. "We'll catch him…"
Bruce shook his head and reached for her wounded hand. "That can come later. This might require stitches…"
Natasha's eyes fell to the vibrant red staining his shirt. "You're bleeding."
"Nothing major." He was distracted by her wound and wondered if a vein was punctured. "You can call Fury back at the tower. I'll get this cleaned up."
Natasha's only option was to go with him. Without a car, they would never catch the culprit on foot. She kept her hand still while they walked back. Police cars and ambulance wails darted past them on the way.
"Why did you do that, Natasha?" Bruce's tone was hollow as his eyes kept fixating on her bleeding hand.
"To avoid what happened to you. I'm sorry for saying this, but your blood is a weapon," she growled.
"And you were hurt because of it." He clenched his fists at his sides. "You shouldn't have done that."
The cut hardly hurt aside from a bit of stinging. "I wanted to protect you, Bruce…"
"A damn good job you did!" he snapped, stopping in his tracks to shoot her a stern glare.
Natasha gave him a guilty stare in return.
"Stop playing the hero, Natasha. You'll only get hurt… So please…" His beady eyes rested on her face. "Don't bother protecting me…"
Natasha shook her head. "You know I can't do that, Bruce." Her injured hand balled up into a tight fist.
"Because you genuinely care," he drawled in a callous tone.
"Because you remind me of myself," she interjected.
Bruce could only stare with a pained expression.
"Not the gamma deal." She lowered her eyes when she felt blood trickling down the side of her hand. "Just…"
"I'm sorry," he interrupted. "That was unacceptable on my part…" The fresh red painted across her hand made his stomach churn. "Let's get you patched up."
Natasha rested her left hand over a towel while Bruce went to grab his first aid supplies. She sat on a barstool that overlooked his kitchen, her body still as she overheard Bruce rummaging through his bathroom.
"I don't have anything to ease the pain," he admitted, setting a medical kit and a bottle of antiseptic on the counter.
"You're well prepared," Natasha commented as he slipped on a pair of latex gloves.
"Always ready…" Bruce took a seat beside her and gingerly wiped the blood away with a pad of gauze.
Natasha never flinched, not even when the antiseptic stung her wound.
Bruce adjusted his glasses before bringing his face inches from her hand. "Probably a vein…"
"I'll heal. Give it a day," Natasha assured him.
He applied some fresh gauze to her hand and placed his hand over hers to apply pressure.
Natasha watched him lick his lips before parting them as if to speak.
"This… shouldn't happen again." His eyes stared past the frames of his glasses as he watched her face. "You getting hurt. Because of me…"
Her hand twitched beneath his touch. "You know, Bruce…" She lowered her gaze to his large hand. His touch was warm beneath the thin layer of latex. "We're not that different, you and me."
Bruce wanted to prove her wrong, but he knew nothing of her life.
"I should get going. Fury needs to know what happened."
"Okay." Bruce dumbly nodded. "Yeah, okay…" He noticed her smirk and felt her fingers drumming beneath his palm. "Sorry." Bruce jerked his hand away from hers.
"It's okay." She hopped down from the chair and pressed the blotted gauze over her injury.
"Let me tape that up for you." Bruce found some medical tape in his kit and Natasha presented him with her hand.
"This earned you dinner this week, Banner. Name a place. My treat."
Bruce was silent until a strip of tape was secured around her left hand. "I'll get back to you on that," he softly answered. "I don't think I'll be sleeping well until I know my blood sample isn't being used for anything…"
Natasha couldn't make any guarantees, but she was confident this incident would be S.H.I.E.L.D.'s top priority. "We'll solve this." Bruce gave her a lackluster nod. "Goodbye, Bruce." Natasha strayed from his side and saw herself out the door. "Jarvis," she announced, making her way to the elevator. "Which floor is Stark on?"