The months in the tower had calmed Bruce. He looked over his shoulder less often, spent more time in the kitchen with the other Avengers, and though his Bannertech security devices were still in place, he let the automated updates do their work instead of checking them manually every five minutes or so.
Most thankfully, he was much less jumpy. Or so he thought.
The unexpected rapping on the door jolted him from his reading. His heartbeat sped up, but not alarmingly so, he was sure. The likelihood of danger was low, otherwise he would have been notified... But who was it?
Closing his magazine and tucking it under his arm, he walked towards the door, resisted the urge to check the security feed on his phone, and pulled open the door.
"Natasha?" He couldn't remember the last time she had visited. Something was different about her. She looked not quite as...together... as she usually was. "You're back? Um..." His eyes fell on the open cut.
Natasha arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at Bruce's response. The new concealer Hill pushed through Stark R&D must be better than expected, if the bruises she knew to be coming hadn't shown through yet. Still, her left eye had already begun to swell--
She had been spending too much time around spies, too much time undercover. Not everyone assessed people as thoroughly as she needed to. Of course Bruce wouldn't have noticed. Not yet.
Her tongue darted out to catch the blood on her lip. "Indeed I am," she replied, mouth curving into a moue. "You seem less than happy about that. Did you not miss me?"
"No, that's not it," he replied quickly. "I just... I don't usually see you here."
He tried not to look at the cut. Was that all there was? He doubted it. However much he wanted to offer her a bandage or... anything, he knew that she tended to be a bit touchy about that sort of thing. Best not to mention it.
Oh no. She was staring at him. Yes, right. He had been too lost in thought. What was he supposed to...
"Oh...yes! Tea! Um, come in?" He opened the door a little wider to let the woman in.
Natasha shrugged. "It's not as if I've never been here before, though." Indeed, she and Clint had spent their first few days in the tower trying their hand at Stark's security systems. They told Stark about the majority of the holes, but it was always smart to leave yourself a back door.
"I hope I wasn't interrupting anything, Doctor," she said as she strolled into his quarters. "No late-night experiments I should worry about in your kitchen?" Natasha smiled at him. "I'm sure you keep a cleaner house than Stark, but still, forewarned is forearmed."
A thought occurred to her--politeness, when in her own skin, was never her first instinct--and she added, "Is there anything you don't mind getting blood on? I wouldn't want to wreck your furniture when I sit."
Comments 10
Most thankfully, he was much less jumpy. Or so he thought.
The unexpected rapping on the door jolted him from his reading. His heartbeat sped up, but not alarmingly so, he was sure. The likelihood of danger was low, otherwise he would have been notified... But who was it?
Closing his magazine and tucking it under his arm, he walked towards the door, resisted the urge to check the security feed on his phone, and pulled open the door.
"Natasha?" He couldn't remember the last time she had visited. Something was different about her. She looked not quite as...together... as she usually was. "You're back? Um..." His eyes fell on the open cut.
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She had been spending too much time around spies, too much time undercover. Not everyone assessed people as thoroughly as she needed to. Of course Bruce wouldn't have noticed. Not yet.
Her tongue darted out to catch the blood on her lip. "Indeed I am," she replied, mouth curving into a moue. "You seem less than happy about that. Did you not miss me?"
Reply
He tried not to look at the cut. Was that all there was? He doubted it. However much he wanted to offer her a bandage or... anything, he knew that she tended to be a bit touchy about that sort of thing. Best not to mention it.
Oh no. She was staring at him. Yes, right. He had been too lost in thought. What was he supposed to...
"Oh...yes! Tea! Um, come in?" He opened the door a little wider to let the woman in.
Reply
"I hope I wasn't interrupting anything, Doctor," she said as she strolled into his quarters. "No late-night experiments I should worry about in your kitchen?" Natasha smiled at him. "I'm sure you keep a cleaner house than Stark, but still, forewarned is forearmed."
A thought occurred to her--politeness, when in her own skin, was never her first instinct--and she added, "Is there anything you don't mind getting blood on? I wouldn't want to wreck your furniture when I sit."
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