Natasha had to hand it to Stark. The new gym met her standards, and the women's shower (most likely to be her private bathroom) far surpassed the local gym's. Having hot water was a welcomed change, as were the brand new bottles of shampoos and body washes lined up in a shower caddy. Natasha knew Pepper was responsible for those additions. After toweling off and slipping into a clean pair of jeans and a T-shirt, Natasha took the elevator up to Bruce's floor. She swore she could smell cinnamon as she approached the door and knocked.

Bruce was quick to answer with a spatula in hand. "Jarvis gave me a head's up," he grinned.

"Blowing my cover," she teased.

"No one else is with you?" Bruce wondered as he headed into the kitchen.

Natasha spotted French toast in a pan and her stomach eagerly growled. "Rogers was just leaving when I got there."

Bruce eyed the oven's clock as he tended to breakfast. It was 10:17. "He must wake up earlier than you do."

"Not an early riser, Doc?"

"Hardly," he laughed as he stacked several slices of French toast onto a plate. "How was the work out?"

Natasha wound a strand of damp hair around her finger. "I'll be back every morning, if that's what you're wondering," she promised.

"That's good to hear." He grabbed some silverware from a drawer and he heard Natasha opening the fridge. Bruce turned to find her with a carton of milk. "I can get that. Take a seat and relax."

Natasha found the pantry hiding his glasses. "The faster we set up, the faster we can eat. I'm starving."

Bruce chuckled and gave Natasha's plate two slices of toast with several spoonfuls of mixed fruit off to the side. "That's good to hear."

Natasha poured herself a glass of milk before taking her plate at the table.

She wasn't shy about making herself at home, but Bruce liked that about her. He turned off the stove and brought some syrup and butter to the table before taking his own plate over.

"Any new science experiments going on?" Natasha lathered her French toast with butter and syrup.

"I'm determined to help Tony out with Hulk proof armor," he began, briefly leaving the table to get himself some orange juice.

"Sounds fun."

"I actually had an idea." He sat back down and reached for the syrup. "A dispenser for, say, a spare hand. God forbid it ever comes to that again…But better safe than sorry," he shrugged.

"Maybe have aback up suit sent in," Natasha suggested. "Better yet, why doesn't Stark just put those things into autopilot instead of fighting you himself? I've seen it been done," Natasha casually added.

"Tony would be bored," Bruce answered with an uneasy laugh. "He needs to be in on the action."

Natasha took a bite out of her breakfast. "Damn good job, Banner," she commented after swallowing."

He genuinely laughed. "I'm glad you like it."

Natasha continued to eat in silence while Bruce engaged in brief Hulk proof armor ideas in between bites. She wished she could give him some feedback or tips, but science wasn't the Widow's forte. "Why not throw him food? Think that'll calm him down?"

Bruce poked at a blackberry with his fork. "Doubtful," he answered. "We've been trying to engage my sense of hearing with the music, but no luck. Sight hasn't proved useful, either-if it did, I wouldn't keep attacking Tony's suit…" He faintly recalled seeing a glimpse of Natasha's hair. Her face in the memory was a blur, but her red hair stood out. Bruce associated that particular image with one of their previous attempts to sedate the Hulk. "We could always try engaging my taste buds…My sense of smell would also be triggered."

"From science to psychological," Natasha mused.

Bruce nodded and resumed eating.

She took his silence as doubt. "Anything's worth a try, Bruce."

He slowly nodded. "I know. It's the cost of trying that worries me."

Natasha rested her hand over his closed fist. "Between you and Stark, I know you boys will figure something out."

Bruce's hand relaxed beneath her warmth. "Controlling the other guy seems much more plausible than getting rid of him."

"That might comfort him to hear."

Bruce sardonically chuckled. "He hates me."

"Why?" Natasha's hand pulled away as she sank back in her chair.

Bruce resumed picking at his breakfast. "He predominately feeds off of my rage. The guy is literally fueled by anger," he explained. "I've always kept my anger bottled up." He paused. "I grew up in a very toxic environment." He didn't wish to recall Brian Banner, but that man was the very source of his rage. "The Hulk is a representation of all the anger I've kept locked up for years… That's what I believe, at least."

Natasha was aware of his childhood with an alcoholic for a father. It made her wonder how he could stand to be around Stark.

"I'm living with the physical embodiment of my inner demon." For such a negative comment, he sounded painfully mellow.

"You make it hard to comfort you when you talk like that," Natasha warned.

He gave her a small smile. "I'll work harder on the positivity."

Natasha smiled back. "You're a hell of a lot better than I am when it comes to that."

"It certainly doesn't seem that way," he chuckled. "You're very supportive of me."

"I care," she stated. "Maybe a little too much." Her voice trailed off as she reached for her milk.

"Is that a bad thing?"

She shook her head, eyes focused on her glass. "It's good to have someone to watch your back. Especially when you have enemies." She lifted her gaze to meet his.

"Speaking of enemies…"

His lips were ready to mouth a name, but Natasha beat him to it before he could finish. "Still in our hands. Not going anywhere."

"That takes some of the edge off." Bruce smiled. "Thank you."

She hadn't devoted much time to the Ross case as of late, but she made a mental note to ask Fury for details later.

Bruce focused on Natasha as she resumed eating. "Do you think he's worth my worries?"

She turned to him with a knowing stare. "No."

He nodded and allowed himself to finish his food.

"You're gonna be okay, Bruce."

"You swear on your life?" he teasingly asked, lamenting on her words right before he Hulked out on her during a helicarrier fiasco that felt like ages ago.

"I do," Natasha swore.

One of the many things he grew to love about Natasha was her determination. He only wished he could show her the strength that she gave him. "Thank you," he breathed. "I know I say it a lot, but I mean it."

His reference to the helicarrier had her own brain recalling everything that happened between them, more specifically, she was thinking back to the moment prior to her near death experience.

"I got low. I didn't see an end, so I put a bullet in my mouth and the other guy spit it out."

The memory was hard to shake like a nightmare. She never wanted Bruce to feel that low ever again. The man had lived through enough hell. "Finish eating, Banner," she playfully warned with a light smirk.

He chuckled, relieved that the incoming awkward vibes he was feeling were all in his head. "Yes, ma'am."

Natasha had her plate cleared in minutes and accepted a second serving of fruit that she swirled around in excess syrup. "I'm not cutting into your playtime by staying, am I?"

"You're ridiculous for thinking that. Company means more to me than work."

She hummed. "I'll remember that if you decide to lock yourself up in the lab."

Bruce laughed. "I take it you have no plans for the day?"

"Some shopping." She left her chair and carried her plate to the sink.

"I can do that," Bruce promised. He took both of their empty glasses and stacked them on his plate.

"Just let me help, Doc," she announced as she started the faucet. "We both know I'll win this argument.

"I won't argue with you," Bruce promised with a laugh. He and Natasha began a system of dishwashing that involved her doing the cleaning and him on drying duty.

"Next time I'll do the cooking," she offered. "I can drop off the supplies before hitting the gym."

"At my house?" he smirked.

"It's convenient," she matter-of-factly stated. "We can do it weekly."

Bruce was quiet as he dried off a plate. "Will this be in addition to our dinner dates?"

Natasha watched him in her peripheral vision. "We can do those, too."

"Good," he smiled. "I always look forward to those."

"Maybe we'll get farther in the dessert course." She caught the doctor's face turning a deep shade of red. "Too much?"

"You're fine." He reached for a glass to dry, his brain attempting to shake the thought of Natasha on his lap. "I have no objections, I mean," he added.

"Wanna try doing something now?"

Bruce swore he felt the glass slipping through his fingers and he quickly rested it on the counter. "That, uh…" He found himself looking at her dampened curls. "That's up to you."

Natasha cut the water and turned to Bruce with an unblinking stare. "We can."

Bruce slowly met her gaze. Aside from the gentle rise and fall of her chest, her body was still as a statue. "We can," he parroted. "Until…" Her gaze was now putting him on edge. "Until I, you know…" Bruce wrinkled his nose and reached for her soapy hands. Natasha's stare softened and he allowed himself to kiss her mouth.

Natasha's hands slipped through his grasp so she could dry them off on her shirt. "Is it too much to go to the bedroom?" she asked in between a kiss.

The bedroom felt like taking a leap Bruce wasn't ready for. "I…" He ended the kiss, his hands resting on Natasha's hips. "I'm not ready for sex, Natasha. Believe me, that would… definitely set something off…" He was already feeling a need in his pants, one that wasn't likely to go away anytime soon.

"Okay," she agreed. "Clothes stay on, then."

Bruce dumbly nodded as he pulled her over to the couch. He caught himself taking deep breaths as he sat. Natasha was quick to settle on his lap and the heated kissing resumed.

"You're okay," she murmured, fingers curling in his hair. Natasha's front rubbed against his middle. She wasn't going to admit she was horny. Or that her last hook-up was weeks ago. And Bruce was likely to Hulk out in embarrassment if she mentioned that her recent way of getting off was through a series of toys. Natasha lowered her hips and skillfully straddled his thigh until she could feel the friction she craved through her jeans. She uttered a faint moan and Bruce's head turned to the side, forcing her to kiss his cheek.

His heart rate was quick to respond to the way her body rubbed against his leg. "N…" His lower member was also responding to her actions, leaving Bruce mortified. "No," he choked out.

Natasha stopped on command and slid onto the cushion beside him.

"I swear it's not you." It was, though. "Believe me, I want this, Natasha." He felt dirty for admitting it. "I really do."

Natasha nodded in understanding. "Must really suck…"

He lowered his head and laughed in between his deep breathing exercise. "It really does."

Natasha had never taken him for the sensual type. She liked seeing this new side of Bruce. And at the same time, she didn't. That was one more level of closeness that she did her best to avoid. Her inner circle consisted of only a handful of people. Adding Bruce to it was dangerous, but she knew she was too far gone to turn him away.

"I really don't wish to test my limits with you, Natasha," he continued, unaware that he was interrupting the assassin's internal debating. "That's a risk I can't take."

"You know your limits. I trust you on that."

He turned to her, his expression grim. "Don't say you trust me unless you can trust all of me," he warned.

"Fair enough," she agreed.

Bruce folded his hands in his lap as he focused on his breathing.

Natasha observed the steady rise and fall of his middle. "You're okay," she soothed in a gentle rasp.

He took in one more deep breath before nodding. "Easier than being angry." His hand reached for hers as he turned in her direction. "May I?"

Natasha arched a brow, but she gave him an approving nod. Knowing Bruce, he wanted something innocent.

And he did. A kiss.

Natasha curled up to his side and draped an arm across his torso. He shifted against the couch cushion to deepen their kiss. She felt his hands rubbing against her sides, only to stop when his fingers hovered over her bra. "You can touch me, Banner," she encouraged.

The pads of his digits traced the edge of her bra strap. "That's fine."

Natasha pulled up the edge of her shirt. "I don't want you regretting anything, Doc."

He lowered his hands to feel the warmth of her skin. His biggest concern with the subtraction of clothing was things reaching a level of intimacy that he couldn't give her.

She caught him sulking and pulled back to allow a safe distance between them.

"It's really not you," he softly swore.

She smoothed the end of her shirt over her stomach.

"I just don't want things escalating to a place I know I'm not fit to handle."

She knew that was code for sex, and she held her tongue on suggesting alternatives. "That's fine."

He forced a chuckle. "Is that a lie?"

She nonchalantly smirked. "You got me."

Bruce couldn't hide the pathetic look that crossed his features.

"Don't you dare apologize." Natasha's playful warning was laced with a stern edge.

"I understand you want certain aspects of a relationship. We both want different things, really."

"Sex isn't all I'm after," she growled.

Bruce would've preferred her to slap him than having to hear her angry reply. He never meant for his statement to turn out the way it did. "I want romance is what I should've said," he guiltily replied. "You don't want that."

"Things have already gotten complicated." She lowered her head and twirled a slowly drying curl around her finger.

"No love," he stated to acknowledge Natasha's condition.

She wondered how much longer it would take for that rule to break.

"Casual dating," Bruce continued."Dinners, breakfasts… kissing." Natasha snorted as he reached out to touch her chest.

She became quiet, but a soft smile remained on her lips. "Touching."

Bruce let his hand trail down her side.

"It's okay," she encouraged. Natasha crawled onto his lap and was surprised to have the doctor give her an eager kiss. "You recover fast," she teased. He groaned against her mouth and Natasha subconsciously rubbed her hips against his lap.

Bruce tightly bit his lip as he feared Natasha feeling the bulge at his crotch. "I actually don't," he breathed. "Can we, uh… another time?"

Natasha gave him a quick peck on the cheek before straying from his side. "You're a sweet guy, Bruce, you know that?'

He watched her stand and strategically covered the front of his pants with his hands. "Thank you…"

"See ya around," she added before showing herself out the door.

Bruce heard the lock click and he threw his head back with an audible groan. She was too much for him. But that couldn't keep him away from her.