Vital Communication Chapter 27
Disclaimer: Do not own. No specific warnings this time. Just, usual angst, and drama.
Tony tinkered in the lab after the food arrived. He chose not to eat, but watched the tracking program while fiddling with the repulsor tech. The dot moved through the forest, about 5 miles off, and then became stationary.
Hours passed, with the sun setting before the dot representing the Hulk on the screen appeared to be heading back to the mansion. Tension unraveled from Tony's body as the blip slowly moved closer. He straightened from the bench, stretching the various knots out of his back and shoulders.
"JARVIS, make sure Bruce knows there's food in the fridge. I'm going to try and sleep," he informed his computer, heading for the bed on the far side of the lab, stripping off his tank top.
"Of course, sir," JARVIS replied, dimming the lights in the lab while Tony fell into bed, and dragged the sheet up to his waist.
Outside, Bruce had indeed returned, and was slowly making his way through the forest near the mansion. He needed to make a survey of any damage they might have done, but found none. It appeared that the hazy memory of Hulk finding a creek and just sitting was the honest truth of how the evening had progressed. It made him feel better about the whole mess. They had spent considerable time in the headspace, trying to figure out the depths of meaning attached to the locator that Bruce now carried. Astonished that Tony would bother, Bruce had convinced Hulk to keep it, rather than destroying it out of fear that someone other than Tony would be able to use it to hurt them. It gave them a tiny surge of hope, and warmed their hearts to believe that someone finally thought they were worth something beyond a tool or weapon.
Along the return path to the mansion, Bruce found likely hiding places that he could use for when they needed quiet periods away from the team. He marked several trees, and built rock cairns to leave some sign of where he thought they'd be safest. He'd also made mental note to find out how much of the mountainous area belonged to Tony.
He reached the yard, and paused at the edge of the tree line to scan the open area between him and the safety of the house. He didn't think there were any security measures in place, but didn't have the fortitude to stay the night in the woods. He admitted to himself to having gotten spoiled on Tony's luxury in the few short months that he'd been staying at the Tower. With a bone deep, incredibly weary sigh, he moved forward across the lawn to the house. He paused at the door, and tested the handle. It softly clicked open, allowing Bruce to push through and step inside.
He was taken by surprise when one of the bots loomed up out of the semi darkness with a low series of hoots, and blinking headlights.
"Damn it!" he gasped, momentarily frozen in place, both arms up defensively, and eyes nearly emerald. "Be careful, please, Butterfingers. You nearly got smashed," he told the mechanical lab assistant.
"Our sincerest apologies Dr. Banner. I do not yet have complete control of the house and therefore could not turn on any lights for you."
"Jeez, JARVIS! Same goes for you!" Bruce choked out a laugh, and breathed deeply a few times to calm his racing heart. Somehow he had forgotten that JARVIS was even there. "Have you always been able to piggy back on the bots?"
"Yes sir, though we have not really needed to before now," JARVIS sounded as repentant as a computer simulation could.
"It's okay guys. Just, surprise can be a bad thing. I guess we'll have to work in here tomorrow," Bruce said, feeling calmer.
"Yes sir. If I may, Mr. Stark requested you be informed of the leftovers in the kitchen."
"Tomorrow, JARVIS, I'm beat. Where is Tony?"
"Attempting to sleep, sir."
"I bet I know how well that is going. Ugh. I need a shower, but the upstairs bathrooms aren't usable yet. Guess I'll chance it," Bruce headed for the stairs down to the lab, Butterfingers trailing after him, headlights lighting the way. The bot's altered treads thumped on the risers in a gentle repetition as Bruce ventured deeper under the main floor of the mansion. Once in the lab, Butterfingers rolled over to his portable docking station for recharging.
Bruce slipped out of the shredded remains of his sweatpants, once he realized the lab was completely dark, save for the faint glow of a partially uncovered arc reactor. He carefully padded his way to the bathroom, where JARVIS was able to have the shower on and waiting for him. He pulled the door shut, but didn't bother with any lights.
"Thank you JARVIS," he sighed, stepping into the hot shower. He took his time, even knowing it was late. He wanted to be clean after losing control like that, and tried scrubbing many layers off his skin. Satisfyingly pinked from the scrub and copious amounts of hot water, Bruce shut the tap off and opened the stall door to grab a towel. Quickly drying off, he decided to take a chance and sleep in the nude this one night. He didn't want to rummage for clothes and run the risk of waking Tony. Neither slept well, for all it was marginally better together.
"Good night, JARVIS."
"Good night, sir."
Bruce slowly padded out of the bathroom, across the bedroom and managed to not trip over anything that might have been on the floor. It made him guess that one of the bots had managed to clean up the living space. One knee brushed the frame, and Bruce managed to follow the edge of the bed around to his side before sitting down. He laid down in bed, with his back to Tony, and closed his eyes.
"Feel better?" whispered Tony.
"Mhm." For once, he didn't startle, Tony's presence largely an unusual calming influence. He'd also noted that Tony's breathing was too irregular for him to be asleep.
"Night, Big Man."
The next morning, Bruce was up and out of bed before Tony, and in the bathroom when JARVIS prodded him awake. Tony stumbled blearily into the room, bumping the other man on his way to the shower. Bruce chuckled. Tony was not at his best before coffee. The shower steamed the room, covering the mirror with a thick layer of condensation.
Bruce sighed, looking at his razor. He really didn't want to fuss with trying to keep the mirror clean. 'Well, not the first time' he thought, picking up the cup of lather and wetting the little brush. He daubed shaving lather all over his cheeks and chin, laying it on thickly. Once satisfied, he grabbed the straight razor and started scrapping foam and fuzz off into the sink.
Tony watched from behind the shower door, as Bruce slowly carved paths through the froth on his face, revealing the chiseled cheeks and rounded chin piece by piece. It was fascinating to Tony, watching this man work, eyes gently closed as though he were asleep standing up. Each stroke with the hardened steel was flawlessly smooth and obviously taken with care.
It showed that Bruce had had quite a lot of practice and such careful attention awoke a maelstrom of emotion in Tony. He wondered what it would be like to be under such intense focus.
Such thinking threatened to make him hard, not a situation that would be welcome at the present. Tony shook his head, making water fly, as he cleared his mind. He quickly went back to the impersonal thoughts he'd had upon waking, worrying about this deposition, if he'd get done in one day, if Bruce would be all right.
"Hey Tony?" Bruce called over the rushing water. "I'm going to start breakfast, and finish my report."
"Sure, man. I'll be upstairs in a few minutes."
Bruce waved, leaving the bathroom, chinos sitting low on his hips, and his broad back bare.
Tony decided he did indeed have a few precious minutes to 'waste' on the rapt contemplation of the thought of one scruffy, curly haired physicist with breathtaking anger issues.