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It’s lucky their first meeting doesn’t set some sort of precedent for their relationship. Or maybe it does: one built on lies and carefully hostile faces to avoid unwanted questions. Their relationship- their friendship, their marriage, it’s a thing. And it’s a thing that starts in India.
When Natasha says. - ‘Just you and me.’ - it reminds her of Clint, which gives her a weird squishy feeling she doesn’t quite like. She still hasn’t quite been able to say the words to him, yet, but he knows she feels it. Maria on the other hand-
She can’t think about this now. Focus, Natasha. Focus on Banner.
‘And your actress buddy, is she a spy too? Do they start that young?’
‘I did.’ Natasha replies honestly.
Honesty is something she’s trying now. Since Maria had yelled at her - or not yelled, but talked scarily calmly in her own way that’s somehow worse. Plus Coulson had told her that Bruce would be able to see straight through her.
‘Who are you?’
‘Natasha Romanoff.’
‘Are you here to kill me, Miss Romanoff?’
And that's how their relationship starts.
She gets the call to Office 79 as soon as she’s landed, and sighs. She would at least have liked to see Clint and get some sort of advice on how to go about doing whatever she’s about to do. He always seemed to know how to do things, even if it was seducing a dorky scientist. Clint. Shit. Just the thought of him had her stomach in knots.
‘You pulled a gun on him?’ Maria is leaning back on one leg of her chair, feet on her desk, head bowed into her hands.
‘Commander Hill-’
‘Maria.’ Maria corrects, voice soft and cracking under stress. Emotional stress, Nat can recognise it now, after years of Shield mandated therapy. So they’re… whatever they were. Not Commander Hill and Agent Romanov, but Nat and Maria.
‘Maria, he shouted and I reacted.’
‘He could have killed you, Nat!’ Maria whispers, still not looking up.
‘I had a gun on him.’
‘He’s The Hulk. It’s not a matter of bullets, Nat, you’re a hell of a woman, but you’re- you’re human. So human. And it’s beautiful, and visceral, and dangerous .’
Oh. This is worry. It’s concern, not something Nat’s used to.
-
They’d started fucking almost a year ago, mostly because Maria walked around the corridors like she did, and Natasha fought like she did, and generally the way each woman did their respective deed, the other found desperately hot. And it was desperately hot, a sudden clash of personalities and bodies coiled like a spring in the barrel of a M1911.
Unfortunately for Natasha, Maria had a strict rule of not shitting where she slept, an idiom Nat didn’t quite understand until she’s touched Nat’s shoulder with a type of intimacy too far flung from the way Nat wanted to feel in that moment and expanded bluntly. I’m not fucking you in my office. Which is what lead to Natasha taking a semi-permanent residence in the vent’s above Maria’s quarters, only semi as the other half of her time was spent in Maria’s shower, which was apparently made, as per Maria’s request, to feel like a million tons of boiling hot gravel are being flung at your head at orbital speed. Very relaxing.
This is also what led to the line between them blurring, and then of course, The Argument. Natasha had returned from a mission feeling that if she didn’t leave her own body she might tear her own skin off, and Maria had just been sent for mandatory rest after 37 consecutive hours upright in the Command centre. Long story short clothes were taken off, and the few items in Maria’s very organised quarters were knocked to the floor, until suddenly Maria was too tired to be putting up this strictly passionate front, and Nat realised, almost on cue that maybe she didn’t want to pull herself out of her own body, but maybe she wanted, needed someone to ground her into it. Someone with hair that always seemed to smell of lavender, and blue eyes that got swallowed up by black hole of desire. It was tragically good sex, as if they both knew it was the last time, and when Maria spoke up, talking to the ceiling, chest still billowing up and down, Nat was surprised to find a tear rolling down her cheek.
‘I can’t do this again, Nat.’
‘Okay.’
‘It’s too-’ Maria cuts herself off, sits up, pulls on a night shirt. Natasha doesn’t make an effort to move, too fucked into a soft bliss that lets herself pretend this might just be a bad dream. ‘I’m too close to this. I’m getting promoted, the sex- it can’t continue.’
Natasha’s mouth seems to move of its own accord. ‘I hope we can be friends.’
‘Friends?’ Maria chucks a bra at her and that seems to rouse Nat back to full consciousness. ‘We were never friends.’
‘I’ve seen you naked now, Hill. I like to see all my friends naked before I sign the contract.’ Nat teases, and Maria’s lips downturn slightly.
‘Natasha.’ Her voice is too controlled now, too monitored to betray any emotion. ‘I l- I’m leaving.’
Nat nods, not moving from her place on the pillows, she picks up the bra and wrinkles her nose, bending the underwire between her hands. ‘This is yours.’
When she looks up, Maria is gone. She knew she would be.
-
‘Nat? Natka?’ Maria pulls her out of her memory.
‘What? Sorry, just- jet lagged.’
They both know that’s a lie. Natasha doesn’t get jet lagged. Something about a drugstore super soldier serum still flowing through her veins.
‘Nat.’ Maria repeats, and finally sits forward, pulling her feet off the desk and leaning over. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Natasha.’
‘Stop saying my name like that!’
‘Like what?’
‘Like you know me, Maria.’ Nat spits out and Maria raises an eyebrow.
‘I do know you, Natasha.’ She says slowly. ‘You can’t erase that.’
‘You’re the one who fucking left.’
Maria takes a moment to process that. ‘Is that what it is? You’re mad because I l-’
The intercom flares to life above them. ‘Requesting Agent Romanov to the upper flight deck. Romanov to the flight deck.’
‘The others have arrived.’ Maria refuses to use the name The Avengers, mostly to piss off Fury.
’I should go to meet them.’ Natasha stands and before she can move, Maria has moved around the desk.
‘It doesn’t have to be like this, Nat.’ She says softly. ‘I know I fucked up by leaving but I-’
‘Maria.’ Natasha cuts her off, she knows where this is going. She sees it sometimes when the nurses give her anesthesia; a shared flat full of leather jackets with holes shot through them and empty bottles of marinara sauce. ‘I- I can’t.’
‘Okay.’ Maria nods twice, and steps back slightly, giving Nat space. ‘Okay.’
‘But Maria-’
Maria’s head tilts at her tone; unguarded, her Russian accent curling around her vowels. Nat steps forward and places a kiss just shy of Maria’s lips. Maria’s hands move to rest gently on her hips. They both know this is a goodbye.
‘I loved it.’ Nat murmurs, voice low in Maria’s ear. Maria’s hands are warm and soothing on her hips, somehow grounding her and cradling her at the same time, and after a moment of stillness, she retracts.
‘Me too, Nat. Me too.’
‘I’ll see you around, Commander Hill.’
‘You too, Agent Romanov.’
‘And congratulations. On the promotion.’ Natasha taps the new metal plate on the door, reading Deputy Director. ‘You deserve it.’
Bruce is funny. In a very dry, incredibly self deprecating way she finds herself relating to, then hears a voice inside her (Maria’s.) (Her therapist’s.) saying no, Nat, you’re worth a life.
When she gets the order to show him around she just nods and walks off, trusting he’ll follow. It’s a smart game Coulson and Fury are playing. Bruce is weak, the 9 year old girl who lured him to Nat had seen that, and it doesn’t take a lot to know he’s got some complex of forcing himself to be alone. All that adds up to is a probable fascination with women, and Natasha’s woman enough.
‘You’re gunna love it, Doc. We got all the toys.’ She smirks, swaying her hips as she walks, knowing the way her hair glows under the fluorescent light is pretty fucking hot. Maria had whispered that fact between her legs one night, and Nat had taken to pacing the corridors outside Maria’s office whenever she got bored.
‘Yeah, I bet.’ Bruce seems innocently at awe with the helicarrier, every twist and turn gets logged into his mind, and Nat can tell from a mile away he’s planning his exit. She did the same thing several years ago, even with a bag over her head.
‘Here we are.’ She leads him into the vast laboratory, set out perfectly, and perches on the desk. It might be a bit too much to take off her jacket just for the sake of it, but she arches her back, pushing out her chest slightly. Bruce’s eyes flick downwards and she smirks predatorily.
‘I’ve always wanted one of these!’
He picks up a screwdriver looking thing to the left of her hip and spins it in his hands.
‘Thanks for the tour, Agent Romanov.’
Oh.
She’s never been dismissed like this. His file didn’t say anything about him being gay, but maybe they’d have to send Tripp up here in a tight greasy shirt just to be sure. Or maybe Rogers. That would be amusing.
Maria’s the alternative. Nat used to joke that Maria could smell the gay someone from a mile off, and when they used to go out together, Maria would be able to point at a girl across the room. Go on, she’s your type. Natasha would frown, trying to work out if she’d make a fool out of herself, and if she did, if it would be worth it. I’ll bet you twenty bucks she’s bi. Maria would smirk, glass raised to hide the movement of her lips.
Natasha texts Maria four and a half hours later. I’ll give you the cash next time I see you. And a blow-by-blow, if you know what I mean ;)
‘Am I seducing Banner?’ Natasha doesn’t bother to knock on Fury’s door, just walks straight in.
There’s a level four agent almost weeping across from him, and Fury raises an eyebrow.
‘Do come on in, Agent Romanov.’
‘You’re dismissed.’ She says to the agent.
‘That’s my say.’ Fury says strictly, then turns to him. ‘You’re dismissed.’
He leaves quickly, tumbling over his own feet and almost tripping into Natasha, who refuses to move out of the doorframe, making him flatten himself to the door to leave.
‘That was cruel.’
‘Please, he’ll get off on this later.’ Nat shrugs, and Fury sighs at her crassness, but he’s used to her first line of defence.
‘You don’t want to seduce Banner?’
‘What I want doesn’t factor in. Do I, or do I not?’ Nat sits on the back of the chair opposite his desk, her feet on the seat.
‘No. Not entirely.’ Fury says after a pause.
‘You need an incentive for him to stay on the team.’ Natasha explains to herself. ‘But you don’t want him getting attached in a way that could blow up so he’s gone forever.’
Fury doesn’t disagree with her, just stays perfectly still and she knows she’s hit the nail on the head.
‘Okay.’
‘Romanov. Your deal.’
‘My deal?’ Nat repeats.
‘When you defected we vowed not to send you on missions that rely on sex or seduction. This isn’t that. Let him stare at you like a kicked puppy, but if you feel uncomfortable, deck him.’
Natasha smirks. ‘Yes sir.’
She watches him every moment they’re together, and some they’re not too. Over the next two days she eats, sleeps and breathes Bruce Banner. As a figure of speech, of course, she doesn’t actually eat much, or sleep much, and the breathing is mostly done by concentrating on a tablet as she hunches over at her desk, knees pulled to her chest. She feels absent, and empty, like she could somehow feel the physical gap of Clint and Maria, two people that seemed to make her. Just, make her… her. It’s weird, really, to feel so relied upon, so joined into some massive secretive deal, but at the same time like she could just float away.
It also doesn’t help that Bruce is so boring. He seems to have some rigid plan. He wakes up at the same time, he does the same meditation and breathing exercises, he eats the same thing for breakfast, he walks the same number of laps around the helicarrier, alternating between clockwise and anti-clockwise. He then proceeds to go to the lab and do a lot of typing and staring and apparently deep thinking, until he has the same thing for lunch and returns to the same place in the lab. It’s monotony. It’s comparable to Natasha’s own routine of gym, gym, annoy Barton, annoy Maria, gym, go to Maria’s, have sex, maybe sleep.
Then Banner shows up. To her quarters. It’s surprising, and simultaneously very expected because she literally watches him walk all the way to her front door on the cameras.
‘Banner.’ She opens the door, leaving the chain on. It’s something she found deeply amusing the first time, that single en-suite rooms in a helicarrier have chains. But normalcy is apparently good for morale.
‘Agent Romanov. I’m so sorry to disturb you.’
‘It’s no problem, would you like to come in?’
‘Thank you.’
He keeps his eyes lowered as he enters her room, and she realises that this is probably why Maria used to always tell her to make her bed. At least there’s no dirty laundry all over the place. There’s a small kitchenette across one wall, really no more than a sink and some cupboards, and she rummages around before pulling out some vodka.
‘Yeah, sit, yeah.’ She waves vaguely at him, and he takes a seat at one of the chairs across from a wobbly table. It’s beside her window, which is mostly showing a dusky evening sky. There’s two glasses in here somewhere.
‘Ah fuck. Where are the fucking- очки.’ She curses, and Banner points to the sink.
‘There are- urm, glasses there.’
‘Oh shit, thanks.’ Natasha runs the tap, picking up one of the glasses. There's a lipstick stain on the rim, too dark for her - anything darker than postbox red clashes with her hair. It’s Maria’s, of course, there's still some of that lipstick balled in makeup wipes in the bottom of her trash can from when she didn’t have time for a shower before her PT session.
She washes them quickly, dries the outside and offers him one.
‘So, what ails you?’
‘I was just- I’ve been trying to get… get around.’ Bruce looks so nervous he might faint and Nat relaxes into her chair. ‘Learn the ropes, the systems. And you seem to have it all, I was just wondering if you could-’
‘Explain it?’ She finishes, an eyebrow cocked.
‘We’re here to do what? Save the world.’ Banner chuckles softly. ‘I’m sure as hell not.’
‘Well, not without a push, that’s why we blackmailed you.’ Natasha teases, voice soft and slow. It’s her seduction tone, well practised and slightly bruised from several failed attempts at Maria before she realised it’s the soft Russian that gets her going.
‘And Rogers?’
‘He can’t live without a fight. We’re practically doing him a favour.’ Nat laughs. ‘Stark is the same. He’s too afraid to stay in his own head for longer than a day.’
‘And Barton?’ Bruce looks like he was about to say and you- but aborted it and Nat’s grateful for that. You don’t get a man to fall in love with you by telling him about the children you killed.
‘He just wants to live life on the edge.’ Nat continues, not giving him a chance to steer the conversation away from himself. ‘And you? Dr Banner?’ She leans forward slightly, her glass in one hand, and lets her throat bob ostentatiously as she swallows. He doesn’t blush, his eyes don’t fall to her cleavage, he just shrugs.
‘I’m just trying to see where I fit.’
‘That’s what we’re all doing.’ Nat says bluntly. ‘Why are you doing it here ?’
‘I- I don’t know.’
He does. She knows he does, he knows he does, but she knows he knows nothing about her, so really isn’t going to tell her that he’s looking to do something that will make him feel like he owns his body, his thoughts. She wonders vaguely whether their relationship would improve if she told him she understood the feeling.
‘I get that.’
‘What?’ He looks up sharply, as if she can read his mind. (She can, but she’s not going to be telling him that.)
‘Not knowing quite how you ended up here.’ Nat taps the steel reinforced windows. ‘Some prison or heaven, whatever it is.’
‘Whatever indeed.’ Banner takes another small sip of his vodka, badly hwiding his wince, and stands.
‘I’m sorry to disturb your evening, Agent Romanov.’
‘It’s no problem at all.’ She stands up, too close and brushes against him as she holds open the door. ‘Anytime, day or night.’
He clears his throat. ‘Ah- thanks. Yeah, I should-.’
It’s the most flustered she’s ever seen him, and it’s the most she’s openly flirted with him, but he didn't seem the shy kind of turned off nerd that she expected, more… uncomfortable.
‘Well, fuck.’ She slams the door and falls face first onto her bed. ‘This is going to be harder than fucking expected.’ Her words are seriously muffled by the duvet and she rolls over. ‘Now I’m talking to myself. I really need Barton back.’
‘Romanov.’ Fury finds her in the gym. ‘That slimy bastard is giving me the creeps. I feel like I’ve got a monster under my bed, and there’s about a million watts pointed at him.’
‘Stark? Oh yeah, he loves the spotlight.’ Natasha backs away from the punchbag, and begins to unwrap her hands.
‘I want you to talk to him.’
Nat’s eyebrows raise. ‘I’m interrogating Loki?’
‘Think of it more like a chat.’
‘Fury.’ Natasha lowers her voice, although the gym is empty. ‘I’m not sure that’s wise.’
Fury just stares at her in the way that means the same thing as when most people would say do continue to explain yourself until you realise what I want you to realise.
‘He knows things- about me. He knows me. ’
‘Loki cannot access people’s minds without the sceptre, Agent Romanov. You will be safe.’ Fury replies bluntly.
‘Barton.’ Natasha says, looking away. Fury can think what he wants to think, she doesn’t care, a lot of people think things about her relationship with Clint. ‘If he’s in Barton’s head, he knows more about me than I do.’
‘I see.’
‘What’s the alternative?’
‘Hill.’ Fury says absent mindedly. Nat schools her expression, her breathing, then responds casually.
‘Oh?’
Fury just looks at her witheringly. ‘Don’t oh me, Widow. It’s you or it’s Hill.’
Natasha thinks of Maria, of her gentle hands and gentle touches. The way she would wake up screaming, press her hands over her ribs to feel the absence of pain; the absence of the pain he has caused (-God, if Natasha ever got her hands on Ed Vernon-), no. Loki cannot have that .
‘Me then. Hill’s gunna be off her ass with all my paperwork after this shit show, so I might as well take something off her plate.’
Fury leaves while she’s unwrapping her right hand and she pretends to be surprised when she looks up and he’s gone. It’s his move. She’s going to respect that.
Loki is good. It’s genuinely fun. The people SHIELD bring in are practically circus clowns compared to who she’d grown up interrogating, so it’s nice to stretch herself out and give her mind a proper run.
She lets Loki think what she lets everyone think: that she and Barton are fucking, or married, or telepathic. It’s odd that she’s about to share more with Loki than she did with Maria the first, or second, or even third time that they were together.
‘I made a name for myself. I have a very specific skillset. I didn’t care who I used it for, or on. I got on SHIELD’s radar in a bad way. Agent Barton was sent to kill me, he made a different call.’
‘And what will you do if I vow to spare him?’
Give you me. Natasha thinks bluntly. Give you anything. Give you myself in any way, in any form. Clint has children, children and Laura. He has a family, I have- I had Maria. That is nothing now, nothing in comparison to what he has to lose.
She pretends to be upset, to turn away, hide her tears, she shakes her voice carefully, just on the edge of uncontrolled.
‘You’re a monster.’
‘No, you brought the monster.’
Natasha feels her stomach turn. Banner. They brought him everything he needed. They brought him destruction in the shape of a dorky scientist who didn’t even want to be here.
‘So, Banner… that’s your play.’
Natasha really, really hopes Maria is watching this, just for the expression that crosses Loki’s face.
‘What?’
Natasha just ignores him, talking on her earpiece. ‘Loki means to unleash the Hulk. Keep Banner in the lab, I’m on my way. Send Thor as well.’
She really should leave at this point, her job is done, just she can’t resist turning.
‘Thank you, for your cooperation.’
They’re arguing when she gets to the lab. Honestly, she’s not surprised by it, and she’s surprised Stark isn’t. The man who used to make nuclear weapons for his own personal finances shouldn’t have an upper hand of nobility on a man building alien weapons for a National Security Agency.
‘Loki’s manipulating you.’ Natasha tries, and Banner looks at her in a way that hurts.
‘And you’ve been doing what, exactly?’
That almost makes her laugh. It’s painful that he can see through her so easily, but it’s hilarious that he thinks that’s all she’s doing.
‘You didn’t come here because I batted my eyelashes at you.’
Nat just watches them argue, wishing Clint was here. He’d bring a bag of popcorn, and throw it at whoever he thinks is losing the argument.
Then everything goes to shit.
‘In case you needed to kill me, but you can’t! I know! I tried!’
Natasha’s eyebrows raise at that. If she had to do a psychological analysis of Banner, like she had to do for Tony all that time ago, she would easily rule him as suicidal. But she wouldn’t rule him as being one to have gone through with it.
As he explains it her heart seizes because she knows. She understands. He moved on, focused on helping other people. She did the same. Mostly.
Her hand goes to her gun, although they’ve just learned that won’t do much, but she knows it’s not Bruce. Whoever’s raging in there, whatever is about to break out and snap them into pieces isn’t the quiet, dorky Bruce who came to her to try and understand the workings of the Helicarrier. It’s the scepter. That stick that turns people into monsters of themselves.
Then it goes, possibly even more to shit.
Natasha is thrown to the lower floor with Bruce, and she hears, over her earpiece, Fury yell- ‘Hill?!’
Nat’s not a religious woman, but in that moment she sends a prayer to whoever would listen to please, keep Maria safe. Then she realises that's dumb because Maria can look after herself and quickly adds.
God, buddy, scratch that. Please stop Banner from turning green.
‘I’m okay.’ She says, voice low. ‘We’re okay, right?’
Banner is breathing heavily, gripping the grated floor to maintain control, but his eyes are flashing green.
‘Hey, Bruce, remember sitting in my room, having drinks? We can go do that again after this, yeah?’ Natasha continues gently, waving away the tac team of men. ‘I’ll tell you about that time Clint tried to dye Fury’s eyepatch purple.’
‘Romanoff. Nat- Natasha.’ Bruce’s voice is low.
‘We’re gonna be okay. Right? I swear on my life we will get you out of this, you will walk away, and never…’
She’s about to promise him freedom. She had to fight, to erase the red on her ledger, but Bruce, he deserves more. He deserves to go back to his beach shack and be a rural doctor.
‘Your life?’
His voice has changed- morphed into a growl. He looks at her, and as he does he changes.
‘Bruce?’
Natasha hates the way her voice shakes, but that is a monster. Natasha Romanoff can fight men. Or women, she doesn’t discriminate. Drug dealers, mob bosses, human traffickers, weapons fencers. Armed with rifles or machine guns or pistols or long metal poles or black belts, sometimes all at the same time. Never, ever a green, raging monster.
She runs.
If I get out of here, I’m never letting Maria go.
Never.
Natasha sits, rocking back and forth, trying to remember her square breathing, her happy memories. Cooper reaching out to hold her hand for the first time, his tiny fingers securing around hers. Lila pulling on one of her curls, squealing in delight as they bounce back only to grab it again. Waking up to Maria bathed in morning light, Maria’s hair tickling her collarbone, Maria, Maria, Maria.
She has so much to lose, now.
‘It’s Barton.’
Fury’s voice jolts her out of her thoughts. ‘He took out our system. He’s headed for the detention level. Does anybody copy?’
‘This is Agent Romanoff. I copy.’
Clint made her promise, the night Cooper was born, that if he ever was compromised, if he could ever put his family in danger she would put him down. No one else, just her. She’d rather do anything else, but she keeps her promises.
He comes to several hours later.
‘Clint, you’re gonna be alright.’
Clint shakes his head. ‘You know that? Is that what you know? I got… I gotta go in though. I gotta flush him out.’
We don’t have that long, it’s gunna take time.’
‘I don’t understand.’ Clint snaps. ‘Have you ever had someone take your brain and play? Pull you out and send something else in? Do you know what it’s like to be unmade?’
‘You know I do.’ Nat says seriously, and he looks down in the place of an apology.
‘Why am I back? How did you get him out?’
‘Cognitive recalibration.’ She smirks. ‘I hit you really hard in the head.’
‘Thanks.’
She unfastens his wrists, roughing his hair as she does, just to make him smile.
‘Tasha, how many agents?’
‘Don’t do that to yourself, Clint.’ Natasha sits beside him, echoing words he’s said to her. ‘This is Loki. This is monsters and magic and nothing we were ever trained for.’
‘Are you-’ Clint looks at her, tilting his head, examining every part of her. ‘Is this-?’
‘This is real.’ Natasha takes his hand, but he pulls away. ‘Clint, I’m here.’
‘What if this is a game? To pull-’ Clint taps his own head. ‘I can’t-’
‘Clint. It’s me. It’s Tasha. You know me.’
‘Tell me, tell me something.’ Clint stammers. ‘Something he wouldn’t know.’
‘I’ve been fucking Hill.’ Natasha admits before she can stop herself. Clint’s jaw drops.
‘Loki would not be able to make that up.’
‘She broke up with me.’ Nat adds, picking at her fingernails. ‘Not that we were ever, really a we- but- She said we had to stop. It’s been a year, really. I used to go over to her place when you were in Iowa, and I was bored. We’d just play chess and have sex and-’
She stops herself.
‘Holy shit, Tash. You’re in love with her.’
‘I am not.’
‘You get all soft when you talk about her. You really care.’
‘Clint, I can’t.’ Natasha says strictly. ‘I- I’m compromised.’
‘Compromised.’ Clint repeats carefully.
‘He knows what I did. Everything. I got red in my ledger. I’d like to wipe it out. This fight is more important.’
‘So we win this and then you get the girl?’
‘I’ll tell you what- if we take down an alien army, I’ll take Hill out on a date.’
‘Deal.’
They win the fight, and when they go, Natasha watches Bruce transform back himself. It looks painful.
‘Hey, Banner.’ She approaches him slowly, trying to stop her hands from shaking. ‘Banner? Are you there?’
‘Agent… Romanoff.’ Bruce rolls over, chest heaving, and looks up at her. ‘I think- Do you have any more of that vodka?’
Natasha nods approvingly. ‘You’re a good guy, Banner. I get that was hard for you.’
‘You have no idea.’
‘Maybe some.’ Nat shrugs. ‘But that’s a story for another day. Stark’s talking about shawarma.’ She starts off down the street. ‘Come on.’
‘I- I think I’m going to need a shirt.’ Bruce flushes slightly. ‘There’ll be cameras, and the guys-, and you-’
Natasha looks at him, eyebrow raised. He’s not the… most physically attractive, even by her not-attracted-to-men standards. Bruce stands awkwardly in the middle of the street, half naked and Nat takes pity. She looks around at the surrounding buildings.
‘I think I know a place.’
Natasha leads him down the street to one of the apartment blocks that’s still standing, she climbs the stairs to the penhouse silently, and Bruce just catches up in time to see her pull the lockpicks out of a front door and kick it open victoriously.
‘Do you want to wait-’ Natasha pauses as the door beside opens and an elderly woman opens her door.
‘Maria’s girl?’ She asks, glaring at her. ‘You crashed a massive alien into my favourite deli.’
Then the door slams again.
‘Maybe don’t wait out here. Mrs O’Riely can be mean.’ Natasha ushers him into a small flat, cluttered and homely, and messy in the sense that a very organised person who frequently has to leave in a hurry lives there.
‘Is this… your place?’ Bruce asks hesitantly.
‘Uh, no.’
‘Oh.’ Bruce looks terrified to ask the question. ‘Is it M-.’
Natasha glares at him, and he clams up.
‘Stay here. Don’t move. Don’t touch anything. Don’t even breathe.’ She orders, then vanishes into the next room.
Bruce does breathe. But he doesn’t move. He still feels shaky, like he’s witnessing himself from outside of his own skin. The apartment smells faintly of garlic and from where he is not moving he can see a file marked SHIELD laid out on the table.
Agent Romanoff seems… honest. Weirdly, for what he’s heard about her. She flirts like her life depends on it, but Bruce is smart enough to know that’s all a ploy. If she is being honest, then this isn’t her flat. But it’s somewhere she knows, somewhere she’s been frequently enough for the neighbour to know her name. Maria’s girl.
Bruce thought he recognized it when he saw Natasha for the first time, back with Rogers on the helicarrier. Something about like calling to like . Her eyes didn’t stray for one moment and Steve Rogers looks like that . This Maria could be more than a friend. Obviously something Natasha’s keen to keep under wraps.
‘Uh, here-’ Natasha chucks him a shirt, and it hits him in the face.
‘Thanks.’ He pulls it on quickly. It’s just plain black, SHIELD branded, stretched out so it fits him easily.
‘No problem. Clint says they’re downtown. Let’s roll.’
Natasha pauses before leaving the flat, then moves to straighten a vase of flowers that sits in the centre of the table, she plucks out two dead buds, and puts them in the bin, moving with an ease of knowing where everything is in the flat. She catches him staring and doesn’t say anything, just moves past him into the hall.
‘I’m glad you’re safe, Mrs O’Riely!’ She calls, tapping on the neighbouring door.
‘Be quieter next time.’ Comes the shouted response. ‘And tell Maria I’ll water her plants for the next week and no more!’
‘Lies. She’d never let them die.’ Natasha hisses to Bruce, starting down the stairs.
He pinches himself.
Natasha leads him through the streets until they reach a half bombed out shawarma restaurant. The boys are sitting in silence, two places empty, a tinfoiled wrap on the table in front of each.
‘Bruce?’
‘Yeah.’
‘About the flat.’ Nat hesitates. ‘Mrs O’Riely. What she said- don’t tell anyone, okay?’
‘Okay.’ Banner nods quickly. ‘I understand.’
‘Sure you do. Let’s eat.’
Natasha doesn’t say another word, just drops down onto the chair beside Clint, signing to him quickly, making Clint roll his eyes, and reach out to pull her hair.
‘Trouble in paradise?’ Tony raises an eyebrow at them. ‘Don’t tell me Romanoff was playing hide the zucchini with Banner?’
‘Shut up, Stark.’ Natasha and Barton say in unison.
Nat signs a couple more things. Bruce watches, but he doesn’t know any sign language past his name, so it’s useless. It’s only then that he sees the small flesh coloured hearing aid Clint’s wearing.
Clint sees very, very happily by whatever Nat’s saying and gestures largely, his signing getting loose and exaggerated. Natasha slaps him on the back of the head.
He doesn’t see her again until the end of the day, and what a long day it has been. There’s a medical evaluation, then time for showers before about two hours of questioning and evaluation, then another hour of psychological analysis in which the therapist seems way too scared of him to be in her position.
Eventually he just wants some peace and quiet, and he hits the top bottom in the lift, then trails around in circles until he finds another staircase. On the roof everything feels calmer, more manageable. He walks a lap, taking in the battered city, ant-like people scattered about, and jumps out of his skin when there's a voice behind him.
‘Following a girl really isn’t the way to get her number, you know, Banner?’
Natasha’s voice is like it was when they met- plastic and fake, a flirt as a means to an end.
‘Wouldn’t Maria get a bit jealous about that?’
Natasha freezes. As in literally. Every part of her seizes up and she can only blink at him.
‘Sorry, I-’
No one knows about Maria. No one. Maybe Mrs O’Riely, but that’s because the walls are thin and that woman has no boundaries anyway. She only told Clint earlier that day, and that was to shock him into realising that she was herself. But Bruce seems kind, and there's something about him that Natasha can’t quite put her finger on. It’s something sexual, to be blunt. But he also seems like he needs a friend. And a therapist.
‘It’s okay.’ She holds up a hand to stop his nervous ramblings. ‘Maria’s not- she-. We’re not together anymore. It’s complicated.’
‘More complicated than this?’ Bruce gestures out to the destroyed city.
‘You’d be surprised.’
‘You gunna talk to her?’
Natasha laughs. ‘I, uh- I don’t know. This is a lot of shit to drag someone into.’
‘But she’s in SHIELD, right?’
Nat raises her eyebrows in shock. ‘Are you a spy, Dr Banner?’
‘I’m just a scientist. I notice things.’ Bruce dares to nudge her shoulder. ‘You should call her. You’ve got nothing to lose.’
‘This is a new world, Banner.’ Nat agrees, ‘Might as well find some new connections.’
Bruce nods, leaving her on her own. New connections. A friendship with an ex-KGB assassin with a mysterious ex-girlfriend Maria isn’t quite what he saw coming, but something tells him Natasha, and possibly Maria, are going to become important parts of his life. Whatever this new life is.
He doesn’t see her again until six months later. He almost forgets about her and Maria, in the chaos of moving into Stark tower. Yet one morning he walks into the common kitchen, and she’s sitting in the middle of the table, eating a cupcake.
‘Dr Banner.’ She nods.
‘Agent Romanoff.’ He pauses. ‘How long have you lived here?’
‘A few weeks.’ She shrugs, eating the second half in one bite. Nat meets his eyes, smiles slightly, then adds. ‘Maria, too.’
‘Maria?’ He squeaks. ‘You-?’
‘I talked to her.’ Natasha mumbles, ducking her head, but Bruce sees her ears turn pink. ‘We’re dating now.’
‘Now?’ Bruce takes a seat opposite her. ‘And before you were-’
‘It was… physical.’ Nat isn’t ashamed, and to be honest, she likes making people uncomfortable, it has the desired eaffect.
‘Right! Oh!’ Bruce squeaks. ‘I’m- I’m happy for you!’
‘Thank you, Bruce.’
‘And I never said sorry.’ He adds quietly. ‘For the helicarrier.’
‘No, Bruce, that wasn’t you.’
‘It was- It was part of me. I put you in danger, I could have killed you.’
‘Seriously, it’s fine. Clint’s nearly killed me about eight times. It’s practically a prerequisite to friendship in my business. And anyway, it got my shit together- I realised how much I had to lose.’
‘Maria?’
‘Yes. Maria.’ Natasha grins.
‘So, do I get anything other than a name?’
‘Oh no, she’s a woman who likes her mystery. I’ll see you around.’
Bruce laughs, and when he looks up, she’s gone.
Bruce keeps his head down, really. He just wants to research p olyhydroxyalkanoates with a reasonable amount of funding. Now he seems to have endless funding, but not endless time.
‘I’m sorry, Bruce, it’s another interview.’ Pepper knocks on the open door to his lab.
‘It’s no problem, Pepper.’
She smiles apologetically and hands him a piece of paper. ‘You’ve been paired with Natasha.’
‘Of course.’ Bruce is too polite to roll his eyes, but Pepper can feel the exasperation pouring off him in waves.
‘It gets high approval ratings, and after you guys busted up half the city…’ She trails off. ‘We need all the approval we can get. And anyway, you guys are sweet together.’
‘Oh, we’re not together.’ Bruce laughs, and Pepper laughs to herself, amused.
‘Okay. Just, be in the media room at 7, and maybe…’ She gestures to him. ‘Be less exploded when you do?’
He looks down at the massive charcoal stains across his apron. ‘Oh right. This isn’t actually an explosion, it’s the result of a complex chemical reaction in which the 3-hydroxybutyrate binds with-’ He cuts himself off. ‘Sorry, I know you’re busy.’
‘I’ve just got to hunt down Steve.’ Pepper holds up the rest of the papers. ‘But that sounded really interesting, Bruce, I hope the complex chemical reaction meant headway.’ She adds kindly.
‘I wish, Pepper. Thank you.’
Natasha is late. Of course. So Bruce is left sitting on a chair in the middle of an overdressed set with about twenty media-people staring at him like he’s about to undergo a very complex chemical reaction.
‘I’m just going to… call her.’ He lets himself out the room, and leans against the wall in the hallway, taking a few deep breaths. Of course, they’ve paired him and Natasha together. Since New York half the media has been screaming The Black Widow and The Hulk! Or The Black Widow and Captain America! Or Iron man! Or Hawkeye! .
Mostly it’s him or Clint, and he knows it’s starting to wear thin. Clint is always brutally honest, but in doing so is endearingly protective of Natasha it only adds fuel to the fire. Bruce just tries to deny it without causing more trouble, which usually means he never gets to the end of his sentence. Nat used to yell at reporters, and flip them off, and make crass comments about their mothers, but Pepper had banned her from doing the latter, and recently she seems to have given up fighting at all, and just spends longer away from the tower.
Bruce misses her, really. Tony is just so much , and a conversation with Steve is like a job interview. Clint is away a lot, so it’s been just him and Nat most of the time, and they’ve got close. She’ll come and sit in his lab to do her paperwork, or he’ll come into the kitchen at 2am from a nightmare and she’ll already be making two cups of tea… it’s a friendship, but in a deeply domestic, companionable sense.
There’s footsteps up the stairs and Natasha appears, running up them, two at a time.
‘Sorry! Sorry I’m late.’ She huffs, collapsing dramatically onto the floor.
‘Nat?’
‘That’s me.’ She shuts her eyes for a moment, hands on her stomach. ‘My God, that was 76 flights of stairs. They needed to pump even more of that serum into me seventy years ago, holy fucking shit.’
‘Nat!’ Bruce hisses. ‘You have lipstick-’ He gestures to his own face.
‘Oh. Fuck.’ Natasha jumps up, looking at her reflection in the window. ‘Fuck!’
Her hair is mused in a way that could be a fashion choice, but her lips are comically large, lipstick smudged, and there are some red marks running down her neck.
‘Maria?’ Bruce asks, eyes bright with glee and Nat flicks him.
‘Shut up. She’s going away and I didn’t think I’d catch her-’ She’s found a tissue in her pockets and is rubbing at the lipstick stains. ‘If you must know, I exercised considerable self-restraint in even making it here. I could be doing something so much better than press junkets, if you know what I mean?’
‘I know.’ Bruce doesn’t flush.
‘I meant doing my girlfriend.’ Nat pouts at her own reflection, and arranges her hair in front of her shoulders, covering her neck.
‘I got it the first time.’ Bruce sighs, just holding open the door for her.
Nat’s stopped being able to scandalize him now, and anyway, he was never embarrassed about sex in the first place. He’s a scientist. It’s reproduction. When he’d stated that to Natasha, one night over blackcurrant tea she’d almost cried.
3 months ago…
‘Holy shit. Reproduction!’ Natasha doubles over, holding her mug out as she shakes with laughter, trying to avoid spilling boiling tea on herself.
‘It’s a way of ensuring the species survives.’ Bruce continues calmly. ‘That’s why it’s pleasurable: so people do it, so people have children, so the human race continues. It’s reproduction.’
‘Reproduction.’ Nat sobers just long enough to look him in the eye. ‘Well, then what the fuck have my girlfriend and I been doing wrong that there aren’t any babies yet?’
Bruce considers this. ‘Unless your girlfriend or yourself has a male sex organ, then sperm cannot-’
‘I get it, Doctor. I was kidding you.’ She stops laughing, pauses, then immediately bursts out with a loud giggle. ‘Ensuring the survival of the species? What about stress relief?’
‘I suppose the endorphins provided are proved to reduce stress, and can have many other benefits on health.’
‘But people just fuck for other reasons, right? I mean, literally- I’m never going to reproduce, so-’ Her eyes glaze over for a second and she rubs her stomach thoughtfully. ‘Have you ever just had sex just for the sake of it?’
Bruce looks at her, head tilted. He knows she knows there’s something there. He’s partially glad Nat’s deemed them close enough to ask him so bluntly.
‘No.’
‘And for reproduction?’ She’s smirking, but her eyes are kind, and takes a sip of tea - even if it does burn his tongue - to take a moment before replying carefully.
‘No.’
‘Ever?’
‘No.’
‘Okay.’ Natasha leans back on the couch. ‘You know, I lost my virginity when I was nine.’
She says it so casually Bruce isn’t expecting the last word, and he chokes on his tea in shock.
‘Nat-’
‘I know. It was the Red Room, and we got trained in everything; seduction, sex, it was…’ Her hands gesture as if to sign something. ‘A means to an end.’
He doesn’t know what to say to that, he feels sick to the stomach, and she runs her finger around the edge of her mug as she continues.
‘But that was bullshit. It wasn’t me, you know- it wasn’t my choice. So really I guess I lost my virginity when I was 21, or whatever. Maria was the first person I actually wanted to sleep with. The first person I chose .’
‘I’m- I’m sorry, Natasha.’
‘I’m not. She was perfect. Still is.’ She turns to him, and he pretends not to notice the tears in her eyes as she pastes on a grin. ‘Now what about you, Banner?’
‘What?’
‘I just bared my soul. How about an eye for an eye? Tit or tat?’
‘Nothing much to say.’ Bruce shrugs. ‘I just don’t… feel that.’
‘You’re asexual?’ Nat asks and his eyebrows crease for a moment.
‘You know what that means?’
‘Please,’ Nat snorts. ‘I had an ongoing sexuality crisis for about two years. My girlfriend brought me a lot of books.’
Bruce nods. ‘I’m ace, and aro, too, thats-’
‘Aromantic. I know. You ever had a… what are they called?’ Natasha tuts to herself. ‘Platonic soulmate?’
Bruce ducks his head, staring into his tea. ‘No. I don’t think I’m cut out for that.’
‘I didn’t think I was cut out for any sort of love.’ Nat admits quietly. ‘Then I found Clint. Then Maria, now Tony, Steve. And you.’ She leans over, hesitantly, then rests her head on his shoulder. ‘Give it time, Bruce.’
‘Hey everyone, and welcome back to buzzfeed autocorrect interview! ’ Natasha smiles widely and slightly terrifyingly, given the blankness behind her eyes.
‘I’m Bruce Banner.’ He adds on cue.
‘And I’m Natasha Romanoff.’
‘And this is a big white board.’ Bruce deadpans and Nat snorts.
He truly has an internet personality, it works well with Nat because it makes her almost piss herself laughing, so the result is a very weird and sarcastically funny Banner, and an almost-crying-laughing Black Widow. Which fans happen to love .
‘Okay, me first.’ Nat declares.
‘Go on then.’
‘Bruce, buddy, you have my board.’
‘Oh.’ Bruce grimaces, looking down. ‘My bad. Okay. What is Natasha Romanoff’s….’
He struggles to peel off the slip of paper.
‘Honestly, гусеница,’ Nat sighs, trying to help. ‘You know I have short nails.’
‘Wait- wait! I’ve got it!’ Bruce cheers, turning the board away to announce dramatically.
‘Favourite colour?!’
His face falls. That’s even more boring than he expected.
Natahsa wrinkles her nose, glaring at the camera. ‘Blue.’ She replies shortly.
‘So, this mystery Maria.’ Bruce leans close to Natasha in the bar. ‘Am I ever going to hear more than her name?’
They’d gone straight to a bar after the interview, not the Tower one: they wanted to gossip alone.
‘You know more about her than that.’ Natasha giggles, having had seven quick shots of vodka immediately upon entering, making the bartender wince. It took her a while to get tipsy with the serum, so they’d learned she’d have to start seven up on Bruce, then take an average of two and a half drinks for his one. There had been a very scientific experiment carried out. Bruce even wrote a paper about it. It’s named The Intoxication Process of a Hulk and Soviet-Super-Soldier turned Super-Hero.
‘I know she… loves you, very, very much.’ Bruce says, just to see Natasha flush in delight. ‘And she used to play ice-hockey, right? You have that hoodie, and you didn’t deny it when I said that must mean she’s Canadian. She’s taller than you, bigger too, physically.’ Bruce holds his arms out. ‘Buff, you know.’
‘Hmm, she’s certainly buff.’ Nat’s eyes glaze over slightly. ‘God, those abs. And the biceps-’
‘So strong.’ Bruce coos, already knowing what Natasha will say. ‘They’re washboard abs, Bruce! gooshy-snitza, you should see her doing pull ups!’
‘Firstly.’ Nat starts seriously, ‘My voice is not that high. Secondly it’s гусеница.’
‘That’s what I said!’
‘No, no, my little caterpillar.’ Natasha repeats the Russian and he just shrugs.
‘You’re deferring. Maria.’
‘Hmm. You know she’s been living with me for like, the last year and a half, right?’
‘You and I both know you had those back stairs put in on your floor for a reason.’ Bruce raises his eyebrows. ‘FRIDAY doesn’t have cameras around your flat, you use your own kitchen most of the time-’
‘Fine, fine.’ Natasha checks her watch. ‘Let’s finish this at my place, then.’ She drops way too much cash on the bar, winks at the bartender, who almost faints and sweeps out the door, grabbing Bruce’s hand as she goes.
She’d started taking his hand a lot, just generally gentle touching, in the tower. She usually asks him first, or can read his body language so well that it’s basically just as effective. He likes it, it’s grounding, something he never had enough to miss, but now Nat reaches out, he meets her half way. Initiates it sometimes, like bumping their shoulders together as they walk down the street.
‘You know there’s a camera pointed at us right now?’
‘There’s several, actually. Five stills and three videos.’ Nat replies, squeezing his hand. ‘Maybe this would be a good idea.’
‘What?’
‘I’ll talk to Maria later.’ Natasha lets go of his hand. ‘But think about it, Bruce.’
‘What? D- dating you?’
She laughs, and in the city darkness where lights only flash past her profile lights up, she looks like someone that would be worshipped in the renaissance. All soft lines and curls. ‘Pretending.’
‘Pretending?’
‘That’s my business, гусеница. Maybe it could be yours too. Buy us some peace.’
Natasha stops him by the same apartment block they’d climbed over a year ago now, back when Bruce was shirtless and Natasha was a stranger.
He shelves it away to think about later, pretending with Natasha. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, to an extent they already act like it. The hand holding and the midnight meetings, the teasing interviews and fond гусеница. Nat’s right, it would bring them peace, and in a world like theirs, peace is a commodity you seize with both hands.
Natasha doesn’t knock on the door, just pushes it open.
‘Kisa, I brought a friend home for dinner!’ She calls ushering Bruce in. The flat looks mostly the same, if possible, more lived in, like the creases on the toes of a shoe. The back wall is a different colour, now a soft bluish purple, and there's more books scattered around. The same vase is in the same place, now with blooming lilacs hanging out over the worktop.
Hill is standing at the stove, earpiece in. She waves at Natasha and signs something to her, nodding at Bruce.
Hill. Commander Hill, Deputy Hill. He’s almost forgotten she even had a first name, it’s all anyone calls her, and it suits her too. Strict and sharp, Hill has been covering their asses all year, keeping a grip on every thread, from Tony’s shenanigans, to the most insane missions.
‘Maria?’ He whispers, mostly to himself. Maria nods, the corners of her lips turned up in amusement.
‘Come on, there’s this book I’d said I’d lend you somewhere here.’ Nat pulls him over to the bookcase. ‘ First Love. ’
Bruce just looks at her, taking her in. This is Natasha’s home. Not just the place, but the person standing a few feet away, now talking in a rough language Bruce can’t quite place.
‘I’m so happy for you, Natasha. You’re- she’s perfect.’
‘Damn straight she is.’ Nat’s eyes drag over Maria, then she winks at Bruce. ‘Well, not straight but you catch my drift?’
‘Maria Hill.’ He repeats. He can’t even curse himself for not noticing it, because it’s almost perfect how under the radar they are. They see each other every day, Maria’s presence would always be excused for business in the tower, their private meetings are a manager and her highest-ranking Agent. ‘Maria fucking Hill.’
‘Maria fucking Hill.’ Natasha agrees. ‘And I mean, fucking Maria fucking Hill.’ She wolf whistles lowly.
‘Yeah, I get the idea.’ Bruce rolls his eyes, taking a book off the shelf to gently bat her on the head.
‘Hey! Don’t start a fight you can’t win.’ Natasha takes out a hardback.
‘Nat, baby, please don’t beat up our resident scientist.’ Maria pulls out her earpiece, and shuts the laptop that was sitting open on the island, obviously clocking out for the day. At half ten at night.
‘Dr Banner.’ She nods politely.
‘Bruce.’
‘Maria, then.’ The moment she’s in Natasha’s vicinity the redhead reaches out and snakes an arm around her waist. Maria goes willingly, melting into Nat’s side and placing a kiss on the side of her temple. It’s so domestic, and cute, the way they just… fuse together. ‘It’s nice to meet you, in this capacity.’ Maria adds. ‘I know you’re a great friend to Nat, I’m glad she’s not alone when I’m working.’
‘You say that like I’m a cat who likes to escape.’ Nat pouts and Maria frowns thoughtfully.
‘Not entirely inaccurate.’
‘I’d never escape from you, though.’ Natasha whispers.
‘Thank you, solntse. Do you wanna sit down, I’ll bring dinner over?’
Maria returns to the kitchen, and Natasha leans into Bruce.
‘Does PDA bother you?’
‘Uh, no. Not really. I’m generally sex-neutral. I’m not bothered either way.’
‘Sex-neutral?’ Nat repeats.
‘Yeah, there’s like different… I don’t know? Levels?’
‘It’s a spectrum?’
‘Yeah. That.’
‘Interesting.’ Natasha nods slowly, watching Maria.
Their dinner is wonderful. It’s delicious, to begin with, and Nat and Maria are electric. Bruce hasn’t laughed so much for months, and while Maria may be absolutely terrifying as Hill, she’s surprisingly funny and loose around Natasha.
Eventually it gets so late and Maria just points towards a room to the side.
‘The guest room is made up, you’re welcome to stay the night.’
‘Oh, I couldn’t intrude.’
‘Bruce, гусеница, just take the room.’ Nat grins. ‘Some of Clint’s clothes are in the closet if you need them. We’ll see you in the morning.’
He concedes easily. ‘Alright. Thank you.’
‘Night, Banner.’
‘Goodnight.’
‘So, гусеница, caterpillar? What does that mean?’ Maria asks, amused as Natasha pulls the door shut behind them.
‘Oh, I used to call him big guy, but, for obvious reasons, that wasn’t the best nickname.’ Natasha explains as she pulls on pajamas, walking into the bathroom and continuing to talk as she starts to wash her face.
‘So I started to call him little green and then I was thinking about little green things and bam! Caterpillar! Гусеница!’
‘Cute.’ Maria agrees. ‘You’re close with him.’
‘Yeah. I mean, Clint’s spending so much time in Iowa, and I like… I don’t know. I miss having a goofy guy around, you know?’
Maria raises her eyebrows in the reflection. ‘It’s different than Clint, Nat.’
‘Are you… accusing me of something, Maria?’
‘Accusing you?’ Maria frowns. ‘Of what?’
‘Of cheating?’
Maria’s toothbrush freezes halfway to her mouth. ‘Cheating?’
Nat giggles. ‘You didn’t even think about it?’
‘Natasha. It’s Banner. Bruce Banner.’ Maria says seriously. ‘Bruce Banner.’ She repeats. ‘You.’ She gestures to Natasha. ‘ Bruce Banner .’
‘Fair point.’
Natasha waits until they’re both in bed, Maria plaiting her hair, to drop the bomb.
‘I think I should marry Bruce.’
To her credit Maria doesn’t react, she just continues to plait her hair, scraping along the nape of her neck to make sure it’s neat, and tying the ponytail off tightly.
‘Okay. Is there… a reason for that?’ Maria says finally, calmly and measured.
‘The media. They’re- I don’t know, I’m just so tired. Of being asked every minute of every interview who I’m dating, which of the boys it is, Clint or Bruce, Clint or Bruce?’ She parrots. ‘The hyper sexual Black Widow, who fucked her way onto the team and-’
‘Nat, Nat.’ Maria shifts to sit facing her on the bed, taking her hands. ‘Stop it. That’s not what they think.’
‘Have you googled me tonight, Masha?’ Nat says quietly. ‘The Bugle had a pole on whether or not my boobs were fake. More people voted than read the attached article on how I’m cheating on Clint with Steve.’
‘Fuck them.’ Maria says bluntly. ‘Fuck that. You know that’s not you, Nat-’
‘I know that. I’m just tired of telling them they’re wrong only for them to come back with some weirder theory. I’m tired, Maria. I’m happy with you, and I-’
‘You won’t come out.’
‘I don’t want to.’ Nat admits, playing with Maria’s fingers, ‘I can’t stand to have what we have picked apart. I have no doubt I’d love you through an apocalypse, but-’
‘What we have is precious, my love, I understand that.’ Maria leans forward, and Natasha presses their foreheads together. ‘If you want this, then I will support you.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes.’ Maria presses her lips to Natasha’s temple.
‘You’re an angel. Except you haven’t actually kissed me yet.’
‘Don’t complain, I just blessed your marriage to a dorky scientist.’ Maria sighs, and Natasha giggles, pushing her fingers into Maria’s plait.
‘You wanna officiate, baby?’
‘That might be a step too far.’ Maria winces. ‘I’ll get back to you on that.’
‘And the kiss?’
‘I’ll get back to you on that.’ Maria pretends to think for a moment. ‘Yes. The answer is yes.’
‘Nerd.’
‘We’ve just confirmed you liked dorks so-’
‘Jesus, Masha, just-’ Natasha tilts her chin forwards, and kisses her. Maria’s hands rest on her hips, and Nat almost hums as her hands pull out Maria’s hair tie, scratching through her hair.
‘Nat, I’d just done that.’ Maria mumbles, beginning to kiss down her neck.
‘Too bad.’ Nat laughs, voice strained as her head drops back. ‘Although-’
‘Bruce is in the next room.’
‘Spoilsport.’ Nat settles back into the pillows, opening her arms so Maria can lean against her shoulder. ‘Masha?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Bruce is asexual.’
Maria thinks for a moment. ‘Okay.’
‘It’s a spectrum.’
Maria’s quiet, so Natasha just continues.
‘Do you- do you think you could be?’
Maria doesn’t respond, just rolls over, switching off the light. ‘Goodnight, Natasha.’ She says finally.
‘N-night, Maria. I love you.’
The next morning Maria is gone, the bed cold, and only a note resting on the pillow.
I’ve gone for a run, then I’m heading straight to the office, M x
Bruce comes out of his room to find her sitting in the middle of the island, vase pushed to one side, drinking out of the coffee pot.
‘Bruce, if someone gives and doesn’t like to receive during sex can they be asexual?’
Bruce blinks at her, still half asleep. ‘What?’
‘I spoke to Maria last night.’ Nat says quickly, taking another gulp from the pot. ‘She says we can get married, if we want. But I also asked her if she thought she was ace.’
‘Okay. And she…?’
‘She just turned over and went to sleep. Or, she pretended to, I know she didn’t actually get to sleep for another hour. And this morning she was gone.’
Nat’s almost shaking with coffee and nerves, and Bruce gently takes the pot from her hands.
‘What made you think that?’ He asks gently.
‘She just- it’s not that she doesn’t like sex. But she- she says that she’s not in it for her. She doesn’t find something attractive past, like, making out.’
‘But you say you have sex?’ Bruce sits at the table and Nat nods.
‘Sometimes she wants to, and I am more than happy to provide.’
‘Yeah, maybe- more clinically?’ Bruce wrinkles his nose.
‘Like ninety-five percent of the time, Maria… gives, happily, I might add. She says she likes the intimacy of it- feeling close to me, and knowing she’s making me feel good is enough. But she doesn’t really like me touching her, not sexually. Unless she’s really in the mood.’ Nat mumbles. ‘I learnt pretty fast when our relationship started- when we were just, like, fucking, that her relationship to sex wasn’t- I don’t know.’
‘Linear?’ Bruce suggests.
‘Yeah.’
‘And you thought that asking her if she was ace would help?’
‘I’ve always known she was like, stone butch, or whatever it’s called, I just…’ Nat trails off. ‘Maria helped me find myself, and when you mentioned asexuality as a spectrum last night I thought it might be helpful for her.’
‘Why would you think Maria would need your help with her own identity? She’s always seemed very sure of herself to me.’
Natasha sighs. ‘Jesus, Dr Banner.’
‘Sorry.’ Bruce holds up his hands. ‘That was rude, I’m just trying to make it clear. You should probably have an idea of your own opinions before Maria comes back.’
‘I thought it might help. Maria’s smart, but sometimes she likes to ignore things in her personal life that might just be simple things to make her life easier.’
‘You’re looking out for her?’
‘I was trying to.’
‘You did what you thought was right, Nat. You probably just scared her.’ Bruce pats her on the knee. ‘Come on, we’ve got training.’
‘Have you thought about it anymore?’ Nat hops off the counter, scribbling a note to Maria.
‘The wedding?’
‘Yeah.’
Bruce just smiles, lopsided, pushing his glasses up his nose. ‘What kind of jewel cut do you like, Agent Romanoff?’
‘Oh гусеница!’ Nat hugs him tightly. ‘This is going to be the best!’
When Maria gets home two days later there’s borscht simmering on the stove.
‘Nat? Natka? Are you here?’ She calls, dropping her bag, and hanging her thigh holster over the pegs by the door.
There’s a rough mumbling from the sofa and a hand sticks up in the air. ‘’M over ‘ere.’
Natasha is half-asleep on the sofa, a book over her face. ‘How was work?’
Maria just shrugs. ‘It is what it is. Sorry I was gone so long.’
‘No bother.’
‘I shouldn’t have left without saying goodbye.’ Maria adds, and Nat feels the sofa dip with weight. She sits up, dislodging the book and rubs her eyes.
‘I probably shouldn’t have brought that up without warning.’
Maria just stares at the opposite wall. ‘I think you might be right, Natasha.’
‘Okay.’ Natasha flops to the other side collapsing over Maria’s lap. ‘Dya wanna talk about it?’
Her eyes are already sliding shut again and Maria laughs softly, running a hand through her hair.
‘Not yet, solntse, not yet.’
Bruce almost jumps out of his skin when she appears in his workshop. Or more specifically when she speaks up from her perch in the middle of the worktop, laptop open on her lap looking like she’d been working there for several hours.
‘You know the definition of insanity right?’
Bruce leaps in the air, breaks two beakers, sighs, and nods. ‘Doing the same thing over and over expecting a different response?’
‘Yes, exactly.’ Maria shuts her laptop decisively. ‘You’ve repeated that experiment at least seven times in the last hour.’
Bruce inspects the remaining beaker. ‘I was relying on divine intervention at this point.’
‘Are you ill?’ Maria asks simply, and he shrugs.
‘I’m a scientist. I don’t rule anything out for certain.’
‘Valid assumption to make.’
Bruce takes off his goggles and lab coat. ‘How about coffee?’
‘Sure, thank you.’
Bruce sets up some beakers under a bunsen burner, and spoons coffee powder over a filter, then stacks them together, beginning to heat the water.
‘Is that just a really fancy… evaporating… thing?’ Maria frowns and Bruce nods.
‘As the water evaporates through the coffee it has a similar effect to boiling, it condenses on the top beaker and is filtered off into this tube.’ Bruce gestures to a clear glass tube running into another beaker. ‘Where it condenses into coffee.’
‘Wow. High tech.’
‘Not into science?’
Maria shrugs, watching the coffee start to filter down the tube. ‘I dropped out of high school to join up, never really made up for it.’
‘Navy?’ Bruce asks and Maria shakes her head.
‘Marines.’
‘Wow. You were 18?’
‘17 when I went into basic, 18 when I shipped out.’
‘Thank you for your service.’
Maria looks away. ‘No- uh, no problem.’
‘I take it you didn’t come here to talk about your… previous employment.’ Bruce sits at one of the lab stools and pulls a second out for Maria.
‘No.’ She sits, hooking her feet under the bar as if to anchor herself there. ‘Nat, she said something to me the other night.’
Bruce nods as Maria trails off. ‘About my sexuality, or lack thereof?’
‘Yeah.’
‘She asked you if you thought you were ace, didn’t she?’
‘She told you about it?’
‘Nat was panicking.’ Bruce meets her eyes for a moment to share a small smile. ‘She thought she’d scared you off.’
‘Couldn’t do that if she chased me with a pitchfork.’
‘She said you didn’t like to make your own life easy.’ Bruce adds, and Maria winces.
‘Ouch. Natasha’s always been blunt. And correct.’
‘You don’t think much about it?’
Maria looks at him questioningly.
‘Your sexuality?’ He adds.
‘I know what I am.’ Maria says defensively, crossing her arms. ‘I have since I was 15.’
‘You always knew you were gay?’ Bruce asks and Maria laughs wryly.
‘Always. Through every twist and turn in my life, when everything was changing, when everyone was dying- I knew it. I knew myself.’
‘And now Nat’s just suggested that you’re ace, it feels like that’s all wrong?’
Maria sighs. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be venting to you about-’
‘I’d like to hear it.’ Bruce says quickly. ‘If you’d like to tell me.’
Maria shuts her eyes for a moment, composing herself, and when she speaks her voice is low.
‘I thought it was normal. For women like me. I didn’t know lesbians- most of my teenage years I was just an experimentation for straight women, and that was fine with me.’ She picks at her fingernails as she speaks, leg jerking up and down on the chair with nerves. ‘It was only after I was discharged I realised that what I felt might not be considered normal. So I just-’
‘Threw yourself into it?’ Bruce suggests and she snorts.
‘Something like that Dr Banner. When I met Natasha I thought I could just do the same: ignore my own… discomfort, or just- not caring about it, for her. But she could read my body language and stopped. I told her I wasn’t in it for me, and she accepted that.’
‘And you’ve never talked about it?’
‘Nat has her demons. I have mine. We work around each other.’
‘Has Natasha ever suggested she’s unsatisfied with your relationship?’
‘Never.’ Maria smirks slightly.
‘That was a bad word to use, wasn’t it?’ Bruce blushes.
‘I think sometimes she feels guilty. Like, if she’s not able to repay what I’m giving her, then our relationship isn’t even.’
‘But you feel it is?’
‘Of course. I love Natasha, me not wanting physical intimacy doesn’t change that.’ Maria says, her eyebrows creasing slightly in confusion.
‘May I ask what you do like?’ Bruce says politely, and Maria nods.
‘You’re a man of science, right?’
‘Through and through.’
‘Good, ‘cus I’ve never understood the weird stigma around sex. It just leads to these situations.’ Maria gestures between them. ‘Where people think they’re weird just because they experience a unique situation differently.’
‘You just summed up about 73% of the world problems, there, Hill.’ Bruce grins, and Maria takes a short breath.
‘I- I like the feeling of it, sometimes.’ Maria hesitates. ‘The physical sensation of an orgasm is enjoyable, but in the same way as a massage. I don’t get the extra stuff - it’s not that I like it, or that I don’t - I just… don’t.’
Bruce nods. ‘I get that. Do you enjoy, giving- is that the right word? Servicing makes her sound like a car.’
‘I like fucking Natasha.’ Maria answers, the corners of her mouth turning up. ‘It’s cheesy but I feel close to her, connected. I know she enjoys it, and I like to make her feel good. I can show how much I love her.’
‘Do you think you have to have sex to show her you love her?’
‘No.’ Maria puts her mug down slightly too hard and it rings out around the lab. ‘Sorry. It’s just- I know our relationship doesn’t rely on it, which is also why I know Nat will try and stop it. If I decide I’m ace, or I realise , or come out - I’m not sure how it works, really - she’ll declare herself dutifully abstinent.’
‘And that would be bad?’
Maria raises her eyebrows. ‘Have you been around Natasha when she’s sexually frustrated?’
Bruce winces, remembering a terrible few weeks that Maria had been away.
‘Help!’ Tony yells, and promptly sprints out of the kitchen. Bruce turns around to flee.
‘No-’ Tony grabs her arm. ‘You’re the only one who can save us!’
Bruce wants to melt into the floor. ‘From what?’
‘Natasha.’ Tony squeaks. ‘She’s angry.’
‘Oh. Right.’ Bruce calms down. Nat’s never really angry, she just wants to scare off the rest of the boys.
‘Hey? Nat?’ Bruce peeks around the kitchen door.
‘Гусеница.’ Natasha groans from her place on top of the fridge, where she’s sharpening a very, very sharp looking knife. ‘I’m going to kill Tony.’
‘Uh, I wouldn’t recommend that.’
‘He’s a silly little man with way too much money, and no brains and-’ Natasha breaks off into a massive growling groans, then transfers into fast paced Russian.
‘Is Maria still away?’
Nat stops to pout at him. ‘How did you know?’
‘Sexual frustration can manifest in many ways,’ He explains easily. ‘Including the most obvious: anger at those around them.’
‘I’m not-’ Natasha drops off the fridge like a cat, the knife vanishing. ‘I’m not sexually frustrated.’
‘My apologies, then.’
‘I can tide myself over until my girlfriend returns.’ Nat grins cockily. ‘We have a bottom drawer for that.’
‘First, remember when we talked about boundaries?’ Bruce flicks her arm. ‘And second, scientifically sexual frustration is not about a level of libido, but whether the level of arousal can be met. If you’re aroused thinking about Maria, then you might not be able to satisfy that level alone.’
‘So what you’re saying is that my girlfriend is so good she’s broken me for all future sex without her.’
Bruce frowns thoughtfully. ‘Yes. That is an accurate conclusion.’
‘I’m still going to murder Tony.’ Nat says decisively. ‘Then I’m going to wrap his body in Steve’s skin if that man asks me if I’m okay one more fucking time.’
‘Yeah, no, people would die.’
‘Exactly.’
Bruce hesitates. ‘You know yourself, Maria. It’s valuable. So I’m sure you also know that there’s nuances around attraction, and there’s no one way to be whatever you are.’
Maria ducks her head, smiling. ‘I guess.’
‘So you don’t need to decide or realise or come out unless you want to. Just be however you want to, and maybe explain it to Nat so you know where she stands. And so she doesn’t murder a bunch of people.’
‘Noted. Thank you, Dr Banner.’
Bruce picks up the mugs and starts to wash them up in his chemical safe sink, and Maria immediately moves to dry up, starting with the un-broken beakers resting on the draining board.
‘I wanted to talk to you - if I could - about what Natasha suggested?’
‘The wedding?’
‘She said you supported her if that’s what she wanted.’
‘I do.’ Maria says like it’s obvious. ‘Nat’s been through hell. I’m not watching her be put through another because the media are, by nature, vultures. It’s been wearing on her more recently, and I just want her to be happy.’
‘You’re a good woman, Hill.’ Bruce pats her shoulder, leaving a wet hand print. ‘Oops.’
Maria rolls her eyes. ‘You better treat my girlfriend better than that, okay?’
‘Yes ma’am. We’re on the same team here.’
Bruce nods seriously, holding out his hand. ‘Team Nat.’
Maria shakes it. ‘Team Nat.’
Now Bruce knows about Maria, he’s officially in it. They invite him over to dinner every other evening, and soon he’s got his own shelf filled with books, and Clint’s room has almost transitioned into his.
‘Where is Clint these days? He can’t always be working.’ Bruce is sitting on the sofa, Natasha attempting to plait his hair now it’s grown into soft curls. It’s not going very well.
‘He’s with his wife and kids.’ Nat replies casually.
‘You’re kidding?’
‘Nope.’ She curses, releasing his hair and re-fluffing it. ‘Her name’s Laura, there’s Cooper, and Lila who’s just a baby.’
Bruce turns around to face her. ‘Do you have pictures?’
The grin that splits across Nat’s face is priceless. ‘Of course!’ She pulls out her wallet.
‘Here.’ There's a small card reading Black Widow enterprises with a little picture of an hourglass, Bruce knows Clint gave her a stack of business cards as a joke in the last secret santa. Behind it is a picture of Maria in her uniform, an official SHIELD headshot where she’s gazing patriotically at the camera, mouth set in a line and collar perfectly starched. Behind that is a small picture of Clint, a brown haired woman, and two small children.
‘They’re beautiful. The girl- Lila, looks just like Clint.’
‘She really is. Coop’s more like Laura, very calm, bit of a geek.’
‘Damn.’ Bruce passes the photo back. ‘I guess everyone in this team has their secrets.’
‘Nah, just us.’ Natasha begins running her hands through his hair again. ‘Steve literally can’t lie to save his life, and Tony- he thinks he’s too good for people to lie to him.’
‘Will you tell him about yourself and Maria?’
‘We’re planning something.’ Natasha grins with her teeth slightly bared. ‘It’s gunna be great.’
‘Should Tony be scared?’
‘Only if he’s an asshole.’
Bruce doesn’t realise it’s happening until Tony punches him in the arm, because the thing is, he’s used to it, now. Used to the way that Natasha will bring Maria coffee every morning, and plaits tiny braids into her hair when she’s working. They gravitate towards each other. It’s natural, and easy and although it’s specifically gross and soppy Bruce has got used to zoning it out.
And that’s exactly what they’re doing: being gross and soppy.
Maria is sitting on the sofa, thumb holding her page in a book, but distracted by Natasha, who’s sitting just beside her, legs over Maria’s lap, kissing her in a way that Bruce’s scientific brain would deem meticulous .
Tony was making coffee, but he’s dropped his spoon with a clank, and is just staring at them.
‘Oh my god.’ He whispers, then, ‘Oh my GOD!’
That seems to stun Nat and Maria out of their bubble and Maria pulls away, making Natasha groan slightly.
‘Baby-’
‘Are you seeing what I’m seeing?’ Tony pinches himself, almost vibrating on the spot. ‘Hill and Natasha? Hill and Nat!’
‘What?’ Both women sigh, turning around.
‘You-’ Tony squeaks, turning to Bruce. ‘You knew?!’
‘Yes.’ Bruce replies simply, and nods at Maria.
‘How was the mission?’
‘We’ve found evidence of Chitauri weapons dealings.’ Maria explains, poking Natasha gently until she moves her legs and Maria can stand. ‘We’ll call you all in at the end of the week, probably.’
‘Noted.’ Bruce leaves quickly.
‘Is this a joke?’ Tony asks, pointing between them.
‘No. Very much not a joke.’ Maria takes Nat’s hand and stands up straighter, glaring at Tony until he shrinks back.
‘Well, I’m very happy for you!’ He adds quickly. ‘Very happy!’
‘Thanks, Stark.’ Natasha begins to pull Maria by the hand. ‘We’ll see you for dinner?’
‘But I have- I have questions!’
‘We’re busy, Tony!’ Nat calls and Maria just bites her lip to stop laughing.
‘Is that it?’ She laughs, the moment the lift doors shut.
‘Yeah, he’s apparently smart, he’ll be fine.’ Nat shrugs, teasing her hands under Maria’s shirt. ‘Now how about we get back to what we were doing?’
Maria takes half a step back and Nat’s hands are gone.
‘Sorry! I shouldn’t have-’
‘No, it’s okay. You don’t have to-’ Maria takes her hands and returns them to her hips. ‘I thought I was about to walk into the door, that’s why I moved. I’m okay with this, Nat.’
‘But you’re not okay with…’ Natasha frowns, trying to work out how to word it.
‘I’m very happy in my role as service top, thank you baby.’ Maria teases. ‘I’m just not into being touched.’
Nat looks away, ‘And when I have- did you not want that?’
‘No, I did. Nat, I promise you.’ Maria tilts Nat’s chin upwards to meet her eyes. ‘I wanted it. I wanted to feel close to you, and I wanted a release.’
‘But I could have just given you a massage?’
Maria shrugs. ‘Sure. It might have taken longer though.’
‘Do you enjoy having sex with me?’ Nat asks, leading Maria out of the lift into their apartment. ‘Giving, I mean.’
‘Yes.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you’re electric, Natasha. Touching you, being close to you- it makes me feel more.’
‘More than me touching you?’
‘I don’t- I can’t explain it, Nat.’ Maria says, voice hardening as she edges into frustration. ‘It’s just all feelings . I can’t even understand them, let alone explain them.’
‘Okay then. That’s fine, Maria.’ Nat smiles at her, the right side of her mouth pulling higher than her left in a dearly adorable picture of honesty. ‘We’re golden.’
‘Golden?’
‘Golden, baby.’
Bruce proposes to her the day SHIELD falls:
‘Hey, Hill. I brought you coffee.’
Nat’s been moved to the medical centre at the tower and is sleeping off an electric shock capable of taking down the average sized man. Maria’s still bruised and slightly bloody, waving off any help in favour of staying resolutely by Nat’s side.
‘What? Oh, thanks, Banner.’
‘No worries.’ Bruce hovers by the door. ‘Could I- Could I stay?’
‘Please.’ Maria shares a small smile, before her eyes flick back to Natasha. ‘I meant what I said, by the way.’
‘About?’
‘About you guys getting married.’ Maria says it like it’s nothing, but he sees the way her hand squeezes Nat’s slightly tighter.
‘Oh.’ Bruce is shocked. ‘I- I’ve been thinking about it.’
‘Yeah?’
‘It’s a good idea. A lavender marriage, so to speak.’
‘A lavender marriage?’ Maria repeats thoughtfully. ‘It’s smart.’
‘I wouldn’t want to step on your toes.’ Bruce doesn’t look up, but he feels Maria’s eyes resting on him.
‘Bruce, it’s illegal.’ Her voice is carefully regulated into calm, and he nods.
‘Not in New York.’
‘Please,’ Maria scoffs. ‘I’m out of the state every two days, it wouldn’t mean anything true.’
‘It would mean something between you.’
‘Nat and I are happy. Our relationship is changing, and evolving.’ Maria shrugs. ‘Marriage isn’t something we’re thinking about. We’re not there yet, and we’re happy not being there yet.’
There’s silence for a moment, then Maria adds.
‘Nat slept with someone else.’
Bruce chokes, panic rising. ‘She- what?’
‘I gave her permission.’ Maria says quickly, laughing at his response. ‘Sorry, I probably should have led with that.’
‘No, no, it’s okay. Do you want to talk about it?’ Bruce offers.
‘When we were… friends with benefits, whatever it was- we weren’t exclusive. We’d go out together, and sometimes go home with different people. I asked Natasha if she wanted to do that again and she agreed.’
‘And it worked?’
‘Yeah. It worked.’ Maria grins, loosely tracing out hearts on the back of Natasha’s hand. ‘She, you know, blew off steam. Our relationship hasn’t lessened.’
‘Are you more comfortable?’
‘Yes. I didn’t feel pressure before, but now it’s gone, I feel it’s absence. Not that Natasha was providing any pressure.’
‘Society.’ Bruce says wryly and Maria snorts.
‘With this new development, it’s just another reason why explaining our relationship to the press would be more pain that it’s worth.’
‘So, I have your blessing?’
‘Sure. Nat’s her own woman, so it’s not my decision, but yes, Bruce.’ She reaches over, offering her hand, and Bruce takes it. ‘For what it’s worth, I’m glad it’s you. You’re someone I hope stays in our life.’
‘W’as goin’ on?’ Nat slurs, her eyes opening narrowly. She inspects their hand holding triangle. ‘Are we summonin’ a demon? No, wait- I have a funnier one.’ She giggles loudly. ‘What do you call a threesome with two aces?’
Maria snorts loudly and Bruce’s face collapses in confusion.
‘A pack of cards.’ Nat finishes, almost crying with laughter.
‘Thats not-’ Maria starts.
‘Correct.’ Bruce finishes, frowning. ‘A pack of cards has-’
‘Four aces.’
Natasha finally sobers, minutes later.
‘So, so what were you talking about?’ She asks, blinking up at Maria who looks to Bruce.
‘Bruce was going to propose.’
‘I was?’
‘He was.’
‘Oh, in that case-’ Bruce begins to get down on one knee, then winces. ‘Sorry, I exploded a glass last week and I still have stitches.’
Maria sighs, letting go of their hands and kneels on one knee beside Natasha, her elbows resting on the side of her bed. Nat scrambles back on the pillows, her eyes filling with tears, but not out of laughter, this time.
‘Natalia Alianovna Romanova, will you please do the honour of marrying Bruce Banner?’
Bruce reaches into his pocket and holds out a ring. ‘Please?’ He adds hopefully.
‘Of course! Yes!’ Natasha squeals, and leans forward, hugging them both tightly, a head over each shoulder.
‘Pep, can we have a moment?’ Maria knocks and pops her head around the door.
Pepper shuts her laptop and looks up, smiling. ‘Of course, Maria. What’s up?’
‘We’ve- uh, we’ve got something to tell you.’
‘We?’
Bruce appears through the door.
‘Oh! Bruce!’ Pepper looks between them, her eyes widening. ‘Oh, are you guys-’ She points between them.
‘Hey, Pepper.’ Natasha appears through the door, and Pepper spots the ring on her finger.
‘Okay. Somebody explain what’s going on here?’
‘I’m getting married.’ Nat declares, sitting down.
‘To me.’ Bruce adds.
‘But I’m dating-’
‘Me.’ Maria finishes.
Pepper massages her temples. ‘Okay, let me- let me process. Natasha?’
‘Uh huh.’
‘You’re with… both of them?’ Pepper hesitates and Nat scoffs.
‘No. I love Maria. We’ve been together for years, but you know what it’s like with the media.’
‘So you’re saying you’re marrying Bruce in pretence?’
‘Yes.’ Bruce nods.
‘And if you meet someone yourself?’ Pepper raises her eyebrows. ‘Will you also date someone in secret?’
‘I don’t foresee that happening.’ Bruce says politely. ‘I think Natasha is as far as I’m going in terms of relationships.’
‘But you’re not together ?’
Natasha shakes her head quickly. ‘Nope. Not romantically.’
‘Right. So how are we going to do… this?’ Pepper opens her laptop and starts typing away quickly.
‘I’m going to add it to the files that Natasha leaked to the public, it’ll look like an accident.’ Maria explains.
‘It’s a clandestine affair to cover a clandestine affair.’ Bruce adds proudly.
‘So I’ll have to cover a shit show on the PR front.’
‘Yes. We thought we’d warn you.’ Maria pulls something from behind her back. ‘We brought you coffee. And a coffee gift card.’
‘Thank you.’ Pepper accepts it, slightly bemused. ‘I guess, I’m happy for you all. If it works for you, it works for me.’
Nat takes Maria’s hand. ‘Certainly works for us.’
‘I’ll tell the PR team, and we’ll wait for people to find out. Are you sure they will?’
‘Please, they’re going through those files with a fine tooth comb to work out if I assassinated JFK, in comparison to The Red Room my supposed-marriage is the best thing they’ll come up with.’ Natasha laughs, then pokes Maria’s thigh gently.
‘I’ll do the rest, you go to your meeting.’
‘Sure?’
‘Sure.’
‘Okay.’ Maria presses a kiss to the top of Nat’s head thoughtlessly. ‘See you later.’
‘Bye, love. Bye, Bruce.’
Maria and Bruce leave, shutting the door behind them and Pepper narrows her eyes.
‘What is it? The… rest?’
‘Maria and I, our relationship is everything to me.’ Nat says seriously. ‘I'm marrying Bruce so we can both have peace. That’s what we’re presenting to the media, a happy, private, domestic couple - that’s what you’re going to present.’
‘When in reality?’
‘Bruce isn’t- that’s his story to tell. Maria is my world, but I also sleep with other people.’ Pepper looks shocked, but Nat just continues. ‘I’m telling you so that if your team hears anything about me and someone else, they know to shut it down immediately. I’m doing so with my girlfriend’s permission, and my husband’s, and I’m covering my own ass as much as I can.’
‘So you-’ Pepper’s brow is furrowed. ‘Maria’s okay with that?’
‘She’s away a lot.’ Nat says by way of explanation. ‘If I have an… itch that needs scratching, and she’s not there to scratch it, I find someone who can.’
It’s not much more complicated than that, to be honest. It had been broached more as a result of Maria coming out as ace, but since neither of them was uncomfortable with their relationship, nothing needed changing. The only thing there was to improve was the problem of Natasha becoming murder-prone when Maria was away, and opening their relationship fitted as a solution for that, too.
‘Okay.’ Pepper nods decidedly. ‘Is this going to be a big, public ceremony then, really to get the point across, or do you want it small and private?’
‘Somewhere in between.’ Nat replies. ‘I’m thinking on the roof of the tower. It’ll be revealed through the HYDRA files, to look like a secret outing. But maybe FRIDAY could put together a little wedding video for the socials though, for after the news has broken?’
‘We can do that no problem.’ Pepper reaches out, offering Natasha her hand. ‘Are you sure about this, Nat? The press doesn’t forget anything.’
‘I’m sure, Pep.’ Natasha takes her hand, the metal of her ring cool in Pepper’s palm. ‘Maria and I have spoken about this at length. We didn’t come into this business to be famous, or whatever. We were just a spy and a soldier, looking to get out of shitty situations. All this celebrity, and media coverage is alien. More alien than fighting aliens: at least we know how to do that. This is how we preserve our lives. Our livelihoods; as spies.’
‘I can get it sorted for you with no problems at all.’ Pepper agrees. ‘Just tell me when?’
‘Sunday.’
Pepper turns more pale than she had when Nat had told them they were getting married. ‘Sunday? Next Sunday, right?’
‘Uh, no. This week.’
‘In three days?’ Pepper squeaks and Nat nods causally.
‘Sure. Please.’
‘O-okay. I can do this. No problems.’ Pepper opens her laptop and starts typing rapidly.
‘I can help if you like.’ Natasha offers. ‘I could-’
Pepper doesn’t look up, ignoring her.
‘You’re in the zone aren’t you?’ Nat waves her hand in front of Pepper’s face. There's no reaction. ‘Yeah, I’m not even here.’
Natasha is sitting on top of Bruce’s fridge when he gets back to his flat after spending the rest of the day in the lab. He still can’t really tell she’s there in any way he could prove in a court of law, but after years he can just sense her presence.
‘Nat?’
‘Гусеница .’ She replies, not jumping down like normal. ‘How’s the science fair project going?’
‘Slowly.’ Bruce has given up trying to argue it not being a science fair project, Nat was pretty set on that. ‘How did it go with Pepper after we left?’
‘Are you free Sunday?’
‘I guess.’
‘Good, ‘cus you’re getting married.’
‘Oh God? That soon?’ Bruce almost drops his mug of herbal tea. ‘I haven’t got an appropriate suit.’
‘Brucie, you know we’re not actually getting married, right?’ Natasha lowers her voice conspiringly.
‘Of course I know that.’ He snorts, standing on the counter to pass her a mug, then sits down, still on the counter, leaning against the fridge, just below where her legs hang off the edge. ‘But you’re The Black Widow.’
He says it so obviously Nat’s wondering if she’s missed something. ‘Uh- yeah. That’s me. So?’
‘So you can’t just marry a guy in the suit he wore to his PhD defenses. You need someone with a fancy tux, that’s you know- enough.’
‘Гусеница , the fact that you said PhD defenses plural, leads me to believe you’re more than enough for a little old spider like me.’ Nat replies gently. ‘I don’t care if you wear your pjs, it’s not real.’
‘I know, I know. But still, I don’t want-’ He cuts himself off.
‘You don’t want the press to pick you apart?’ Nat finishes for him and he shrugs.
‘I know you deal with more than your fair share of hate from the media, misogyny and-’
Natasha pokes his head with her toe. ‘Bruce, I know, just tell me what you’re feeling.’
‘I just don’t want it all to be about the beautiful Black Widow marrying the nerdy science guy who doesn’t even care enough about her to buy a nice suit.’
‘Okay.’ Nat says. ‘Then we just get you a new suit.’
‘Are you going to wear a dress?’
‘I think if I wore a suit now that might break Fox News’ brain.’ Nat laughs to herself. ‘So, no. Plus I’ve always wanted to wear a nice big wedding dress - with Stark footing the bill too, I might as well.’
‘And Maria? Is she going to be there?’ Bruce asks carefully and Nat’s silent for a moment.
‘I- I don’t know.’ She replies finally, honestly. ‘I don’t… now it’s actually happening I’m almost scared to talk to her. That she’ll hate me for this, and think it’s too late to go back on it now.’
‘That’s why you’re here instead of at home?’
Nat’s silence tells him yes.
‘Maria loves you, this was something she’s supported since the beginning.’
‘I know, I know, but I just- I know she said we’re not ready to get married, and we’re not thinking about it yet, but all of this talk about it has just got me thinking about her and…’
‘And you want to get married?’
Bruce can almost see the room light up from the grin that splits across Nat’s face.
‘Hell yes. I want to marry her.’
‘Okay.’ He picks up a notebook from the counter. ‘I have a plan, then.’
‘Masha?’ Natasha opens the bedroom door slowly, keeping her voice low in case Maria wants to continue pretending to be asleep.
‘Hmm?’
‘Are you okay?’
‘Yeah.’ Maria rolls onto her back, pulling back the duvet beside her, inviting Nat in. ‘Why are you asking?’
‘Just with everything that’s happened today… I’d understand if you were angry, or jealous, or whatever.’
Nat shimmies out of her jeans, and pulls on a stretched out t-shirt from Maria’s bottom drawer, crawling into bed beside her girlfriend.
‘I’m not angry, or jealous. I have no reason to be. Do I?’ Maria wraps her arms around Natasha and there's silence for a moment as Nat settles, making herself comfortable against Maria’s chest, tangling their legs together.
‘Of course you don’t, Masha. You’re the love of my life.’
Maria smothers her smirk with a kiss to Nat’s forehead. ‘I hate to be full of myself, but I know that, Nat.’
‘Good. I think it’s going to be quite funny, anyway.’ Nat giggles to herself. ‘All the boys tripping over themselves trying to work it out, while we just get a bit drunk and enjoy the great food Pepper’s going to order.’
‘Sounds like a good plan to me.’
‘Could you do me another favour? Other than letting me marry a man?’
‘Sure. Just name it.’
‘Can you take Bruce shopping for a suit? He’s nervous about the media thinking he’s not good enough for all my feminine wiles.’
‘All of those wiles, huh?’ Maria snorts. ‘’Course I will, my love.’
‘What the fuck is this?’ Tony holds out an a5 piece of neat card, embossed with gold letters. Maria doesn’t look up from her paperwork.
‘A wedding invitation.’
‘Yes, and why the fuck do I have it?’
‘Because you’re being invited to a wedding, Stark.’ She responds dryly.
Tony just looks from the invitation to Maria and back again about five times. ‘But you- I thought- hang on- but- wait-’
‘Want to finish one of those sentences?’
‘I thought you and Romanoff were schmucking it up?’
Maria looks up finally. ‘I have no clue what that means, Stark.’
‘You know-’ He scissors his fingers together and Maria doesn’t hesitate to throw a scrunched up ball of paper at his head.
‘This says Romanoff and Banner, though.’ He holds out the paper to illustrate his point. ‘See?’
‘Yes, I can read.’
‘So what’s that about?’
‘They’re getting married, honestly I’m trying to work here, Stark.’ Maria sighs. ‘Please stop asking useless questions. I thought you were meant to be a genius or something.’
‘Natasha is marrying Bruce?’
‘Yes.’
‘This is because of the media, isn’t it?’
‘Yes.’
‘They’re smart.’
‘Yes.’
‘Are you just going to say yes to everything?’
‘No.’
Steve is the next to find out.
‘Nat, I just wanted to say congratulations.’
Natasha is sitting on the countertop beside the stove, occasionally stirring a pot of bubbling risotto.
‘Uh, thanks.’ She frowns. ‘What for?’
‘Your upcoming nuptials!’ Steve waves the card excitedly and Nat plucks it out of his hand.
‘Oh, wow. Look at that. Pepper sent them out already.’
‘Pepper? Pepper is organizing your wedding?’
‘Yeah.’ Nat hands back the card. ‘It’s not an actual wedding though.’
‘But it says you are invited to the wedding of Natasha Romanov and Bruce Banner , then there’s a time and place.’
‘Sunday, right? Urgh.’ Natasha groans. ‘I still haven’t got my dress.’
‘No dress?’ Steve almost faints, and grabs the counter to stabilize himself. ‘Oh God, Natasha?’
‘Uh huh?’ Nat scoops out some risotto and tries it, chewing with her mouth open as it’s hot.
‘You need to get a dress!’
‘Yeah, I guess.’
‘Your wedding is the day after tomorrow!’ Steve squeals.
‘Fine.’ Nat shrugs. ‘We’ll go tomorrow then.’
‘We?’
‘Yeah, you wanna come?’ Nat offers.
‘Do I want to come?’ Steve repeats, his eyes filling with tears. ‘Of course I want to come!’
‘Okay, do we want black tie? White tie? Lounge suit? Morning suit? Three piece suit? Dinner jacket suit?’ Maria lists the apparently endless options, flicking through the rows of suits in the entirely empty shop that Pepper had them chauffeured to for a prompt 8am start. There’s a whole timetable for the day, and Bruce is beginning to understand the pre-wedding-nerves.
‘Uh- a suit?’
Maria just turns to him, slightly despairing. ‘Dr Banner, which type?’
‘I didn’t even know there were that many?’ He turns around slowly, taking in all the options. ‘How do you even know that many?’
‘I’m a masc lesbian, Banner.’ Maria snaps. ‘Also, it’s written there.’
She points to where the list is glued in neat swirly acrylic letters onto the mirror directly in front of him.
‘Oh.’
Bruce looks through aimlessly for a few moments, Maria beginning to type on her phone.
‘Which, uh- which do you think is best?’
Maria looks surprised he’s asking her opinion. ‘I would go just for a classic one. Maybe slightly casual? No tie, just a black suit and nice shirt.’
‘You would?’
‘Yes.’ Maria runs her fingers over the collar of a neat navy blazer, rubbing a circle on the fabric, eyes unfocused.
‘Maria?’
‘Huh?’ She snaps back to the present, clearing her throat and moving on.
‘Why don’t you try one on too?’ Bruce tries, and sensing she’s going to refuse quickly adds. ‘It’ll make me feel a whole lot less stupid.’
‘I don’t think they have women’s suits here, Banner.’ Maria sighs.
Bruce knows they do, it’s the whole reason he got Pepper to pick this place, he holds out the navy jacket.
‘Oh look! This one says women’s!’
Maria narrows her eyes at him, but accepts it. ‘Sure.’
‘Natasha! Nat! Are you ready!’
Natasha rolls over, yawning. There’s a very excited super soldier outside her door.
‘Steve?’ She mumbles. ‘Ugh, let him in, FRI.’
Steve bounds through the kitchen shouting as he goes. ‘Are you ready? Are you doing your hair? Or make up? Are you excited?’
He waits outside her bedroom door and Natasha scratches one hand through her messy curls, pulling it open unceremoniously.
‘Mornin’’ She slurs, and yawns again.
‘Nat!’ Steve gapes. ‘It- It’s 9:30!’
Nat just shrugs. Maria had snuck out of bed at 7:30, and past that she hadn’t been paying attention.
‘We have an appointment at the wedding dress shop in 10 minutes! The car is outside.’
Natasha vaguely remembers Maria reciting a timetable to her when she left but again, it was 7:30am, and her hand had been rubbing absentminded circles on Nat’s collarbone, so she hadn’t really been paying attention.
‘Okay, fine, yeah, I’ll get dressed.’ Nat starts pulling jeans out of the wardrobe, then slips out of her shorts, making Steve turn bright red and turn to face the wall.
‘It’s recommended you go in make up, with your hair how you’ll have it on the day, you know… for the full effect.’
‘Urgh I’m not wearing make up on my wedding day.’ Nat pouts, finishing changing and walking into the bathroom to splash water on her face. ‘It’s my day, I’m not looking like a clown. And my hair is fine.’
She catches her reflection in the mirror, grimaces and runs her hands under the tap, taking a moment to flatten it down slightly and reform some of the curls.
‘There. Now it’s fine.’
Steve just clears his throat.
‘Fine. Mascara and lipstick only.’
His eyes widen slightly.
‘No, no foundation.’ She pouts. ‘I don’t want this to feel entirely like a mission.’
Steve looks like someone just kicked a puppy nearby.
‘Fine.’ She concedes. ‘Concealer only.’
‘You, Mrs Banner, have yourself a deal.’ Steve holds out his hand, and she hesitates, running through their interactions. He doesn’t know.
‘I think he’s gunna be Mr Romanoff, if you must know.’ She winks at him, wondering just how much she can scandalize him when the news breaks.
‘How is it, Banner?’
Bruce adjusts the suit self consciously in front of the mirror. It was one of the smallest sizes they run, but he still feels like he’s drowning in it. Sure it fits across his shoulders, and it does up neatly across his stomach, and really it’s an almost tailored fit. He’s sure the tailor that is the next stop on Pepper’s time table will finish the rest.
‘It’s… good.’
‘Can I see?’ Maria asks patiently from outside.
Bruce steps out of the changing room, and Maria looks up from where she’s sitting on the sofa, her laptop open on her knees.
Maria’s not one to appreciate how men look, but she’s not above admitting he looks good. It’s a neat black suit, smart trousers and a crisp white shirt, top buttons undone, and a blazer.
She nods approvingly, ‘are you happy with it?’
‘I guess.’ He tweaks the lapels, then focuses on Maria. ‘You look great.’
Maria just shrugs, ‘It’s a nice fit. It’s hard to find good women’s suits.’
‘Will you keep it?’
‘It’s a wedding suit, for a…’ she pinches the label and reads it aloud. ‘ Female member of a groom’s party. ’
‘Very awake.’
‘Woke, Bruce. Woke.’ Maria corrects, shrugging off the jacket.
‘There’s a waistcoat. Matching.’ Bruce adds.
‘I’m not getting the suit.’ Maria sighs. ‘Pep’s orders are for you to pick up a suit for you, and one for your best man, but I’m guessing Tony already has one.’
‘About that…’ Bruce blushes slightly. ‘I was wondering if you’d do me the honor?’
‘Honor?’ Maria repeats, confused.
‘Best woman?’ Bruce offers. ‘Please?’
Maria freezes, her jaw dropping slightly.
‘If that’s okay.’ Bruce adds quickly. ‘I know this is a weird situation, and I read some articles about it, and they all said to ask your best friend. I’m marrying her, and you’re my-’
‘Your second best friend?’ Maria raises an eyebrow pointedly.
‘That wasn’t what I intended to say.’
Maria pauses, picking out the matching waistcoat and examining it thoughtfully. ‘Yes.’
‘What?’
‘Yes, Bruce. I’ll be your best woman.’
‘Awesome.’ Bruce sighs with relief. ‘Now could we get out of here?’
Maria laughs. ‘Yes, let’s get out of here.’
‘I want a dress that makes me look like a princess, and a fairy, and also a warrior. Mostly hot. I need to look insanely fucking hot.’ Nat orders immediately, walking into the bridal shop and frowning at the woman offering a gold tray of prosecco. ‘I also need vodka.’
‘Yes, Miss Romanoff. Of course.’ The woman squeaks, doing something close to a curtsy and she runs off.
‘Good morning, Miss Romanoff.’ An older woman, with a nametag reading Alissa, owner comes up to them. ‘We have some picked out that Miss Potts suggested you might like, and we can do a second search to select those which are… as you described.’
‘Hot.’ Nat confirms, kicking off her boots. ‘Okay, let’s get rolling.’
The woman looks slightly afraid of her. ‘Would you like some prosecco, maybe some music?’
‘It’s, like, 10am. Even I know that’s early for alcohol-’
‘You just asked for vodka?’ Steve cuts in and she brushes him off.
‘Please, that’s basically water. Anyway, I want to get this done because apparently it’s cake tasting next.’
She stomps into the massive changing room, complete with all-round mirrors and a small stage. Steve looks to Alissa. ‘She’s just… excited.’
‘Brides come in all shapes, sizes and moods.’ Alissa hands over a bundle of white fabric. ‘Why don’t you try her with these.’
It’s eighteen dresses later and even Steve is starting to lose energy.
‘No. No way.’ Nat hoists up the strapless dress, her hands grasped over her breasts. ‘If I run in this I might flash someone.’
‘Yet again, I don’t understand why the ability to run is a prerequisite to a wedding dress.’ Alissa looks down her list. ‘Along with… shooting, punching and… all the fabric being able to be held up with one hand.’
‘Uh huh.’ Nat strips out of the dress, and stands, relaxed in her underwear, surveying the scene of devastation (thrown dresses) around her. ‘I might need to escape to the bathroom with a certain someone, and, you know- have some fun. It’s my wedding day.’
‘Tomorrow. Tomorrow is your wedding day.’ Steve mumbles, promptly ignoring the first part.
‘Hey-’ Nat skips down the stairs and picks up a row of soft, off-white, lace ruffle, following it like a trail until she reaches a dress, stuck behind some others on a rail off to the side. ‘What’s this one?’
‘It’s from a few seasons ago…’ Alissa shrugs. ‘It doesn’t really fit our clientele so it’s there to be returned next week.’
‘I want to try it.’ Natasha says decisively.
‘You do?’ Alissa looks shocked, but Steve just picks it off the rack, and starts to loosen the corset back.
Natasha steps into the dress, hopping over the long layers of crepe-like ruffles, Steve helps her shimmy it up, and she holds the front bodice in place as he begins to tighten the back.
‘More, yeah.’ Nat orders, breathing out. ‘Just there.’
He ties a bow on the back, and drops one of the swooping lace Bardot sleeves off her shoulder.
‘Oh.’ Alissa is slightly breathless. ‘Wow.’
‘Yeah.’ Steve agrees quietly. ‘ Wow. ’
Natasha turns and faces the mirror.
The dress isn’t sparkling white. It’s not satin, or entirely lace, it’s a soft, linen-y fabric. The top is a basic corset, with thin straps arching over her shoulders, and drop Bardot sleeves of the same crepe-paper fabric that makes up the layers of ruffled skirt arching out from the low v-waist.
It’s perfect.
‘We’ll take it.’ Steve grins. ‘You look a million bucks, Nat.’
‘And with inflation from your time that’s about 3.2 million now.’ She winks. ‘I gotta show Bruce.’
She’s on facetime with him before Steve can squeal.
‘No! The groom can’t see the dress!’
‘He’s not the groom.’ Nat giggles, setting her phone in the corner and backing away, holding her skirts up as she hops back onto the mini stage. ‘Not really.’
Steve just gasps in shock as the call connects.
‘Holy…’ Bruce’s pixelated face is wide-eyed in shock. ‘She might faint.’
‘Possibly.’
‘It’s incredible.’
‘Yeah.’
‘She’s… You’re going to take her breath away,’
‘I know.’ Nat giggles happily, spinning around.
‘She?’ Steve repeats weakly.
‘Bruce? Is that Nat on the phone?’ Maria’s voice crackles through in the distance and the screen goes dark as Bruce clutches the phone to his chest.
‘No! You can’t see her.’
‘I’m not the groom.’ Maria says, amused. ‘Hey, babe.’
‘Hey, Masha. I agree with Bruce, though, it could be bad luck.’
‘We’re not the ones getting married.’
Nat smirks to herself. ‘Maybe not right now, but I’m keen so avoid any and all curses for now.’
There’s a silence and Nat knows it’s Maria rolling her eyes. ‘Yes ma’am.’
‘Good. I’ll see you tomorrow, Bruce?’
‘See you at the bottom of the aisle.’ He jokes and she giggles.
‘I might as well not take the dress off at this point.’
‘I would not recommend sleeping in the dress.’ Steve cuts in, still deeply confused. ‘It might crumple.’
‘I’m kidding.’ She pats his head and grins wickedly. ‘I gotta put something killer on underneath.’
Steve almost melts into the floor.
‘You- uh. Bruce? Or… Maria?’
‘Maria.’ Nat replies, turning so he can help her get back out of the dress. ‘We’ve been together for years, Bruce and I just want some peace.’
‘That’s a smart decision.’ Steve nods approvingly. ‘Back in the day, Buck used to drag me off on these double dates almost weekly, Buck would just enjoy the movie, or the dinner, or whatever it was, while they run off together, chatting and laughing, almost ignoring him. It took me a few years to work out Buck was just covering for them - you know, their dates.’
Nat whistles appreciatively. ‘Damn. Steve Rogers was a beard before he was a Captain.’
‘Something like that.’ Steve blushes. ‘Now let’s get to cake, and you can tell me all about Maria.’
‘Deal.’
‘Natasha?’
‘Masha?’
Natasha is just a shape under the duvet when Maria returns from the office, her place of refuge after the hours of wedding planning.
‘What happened?’
‘Council called. Fury told them he was busy.’
‘Was he?’
Maria just groans, toeing off her shoes and slinging her jacket over the chair before climbing into bed. ‘He was watching Barton shooting outlines around the junior agents on the gym cams.’
‘Oo, I hope he taped it.’ Natasha pokes her. ‘Seriously, baby? Not the suit trousers. Come on, strip.’
‘And they say romance is dead.’ Maria replies dryly, but pulls off her trousers, shirt and bra, accepting a stretched out Captain America will save the day shirt from Nat.
‘Dead as a dormouse. That’s why I’m marrying a man.’ Nat pretends to gag.
‘And a nerd, nonetheless.’
‘You act like you’re not.’
Maria’s silent for a moment and Natasha knows she has her beat.
‘I’m going to sleep now.’
‘Thought so.’ Nat smirks, pressing her face into the crook of Maria’s neck, stretching her arms around her. ‘Goodnight, my love.’
‘Night, Natka.’
The morning of the wedding Maria wakes to an empty bed. The note on the pillow just reads:
Tradition and all, N.
Which thoroughly confused her. She treats it as a normal day: coffee first, then emails - including one from Fury telling her she will be immediately locked out of her account since she legally must take this day off - and then spends an hour trying to hack SHIELD before realising from the amount of ‘;)’ in the code that it was definitely written by her girlfriend, and therefore unbreakable.
She’s just considering whether she could bully FRIDAY into breaking it for her when there’s harried knocking on the door.
‘Maria! Maria! Are you awake?’ Bruce is almost shaking the door off its hinges.
‘Гусеница, calm down.’ Maria swings open the door and is met with the sight of Bruce, in a dressing gown, hair wet, half his chin covered in shaving cream and blood dripping from his cheek.
‘God. Who did you try and fight?’
‘I think I need stitches!’ Bruce practically wails, waving the razor. Maria jumps back.
‘Okay, put down the weapon, and I’ll have a look.’
‘God, there’s so much to do. I had a time-scaled plan, but then my alarm clock cancelled out my back-up alarm clock, and the shower took too long to heat -apparently Stark’s doing something that requires the hydro-power of Niagara Falls- and I cut myself shaving and-’
He stops and takes a deep breath as Maria patiently wipes the blood from his cheek.
‘You’ll be fine. It’s just a nick.’
On cue blood streams from the cut onto the floor. Maria immediately presses the tissue back in place.
‘That will stop soon.’
‘Did you know that when you watch horror movies your body releases more factor VIII, a key protein used for blood clotting?’ He starts to ramble nervously as Maria takes the razor from his hand and shaves the right side of his face. ‘It’s like it’s prepared to be attacked.’
‘Stop talking.’ Maria orders, the blade by his lips. Bruce stops.
‘Good. Hold that there.’ Maria hands him the tissue and he takes it, going back to mumbling as she moves down his neck.
‘Maybe I should watch a horror movie. That would help, right? With the-’ He gestures to his cut.
‘Done. Go and wash your face in there.’
Maria points to the bathroom, ignoring his other comments.
He emerges five minutes later, face dry and smooth of stubble, but blushing.
‘Sorry. I may have- uh, panicked.’ He mumbles, ducking his head and Maria pats his shoulder supportively.
‘It’s okay. Cold feet is normal. Apparently.’ Maria shrugs. ‘I wouldn’t know.’
‘Not nervous?’
Maria glares at him witheringly. ‘I’m not getting married. So no.’
Bruce lets that one rest. ‘How about we head up to the top floor? Pepper’s got it all set up into dressing rooms.’
Maria’s phone buzzes on cue, and she picks up within the first ring.
‘Hill speaking.’
‘Maria?’ Pepper sounds like she’s running somewhere. ‘You’re late! You’re never late!’
‘I’m not a vital part of this.’
‘Maria! We need you. This is Nat’s day and you’re Nat’s-’ Pepper stumbles for a word.
‘Girlfriend.’ Maria supplies.
‘Love.’ Bruce tries.
‘Nat’s.’ Pepper repeats, and that is enough, really. ‘She’ll need you. And I’m pretty sure Bruce is panicking his head off, and God knows the only story more dramatic than The Black Widow and The Hulk marrying is The Hulk leaving The Black Widow at the altar.’
‘Possibly.’ Bruce raises his voice.
‘Ah. Bruce, you’re there.’ Pepper clears her throat. ‘I’m sure it will be okay.’
Bruce just hums, looking doubtful.
‘Fine.’ Maria sighs. ‘We’ll be there in five minutes.’
‘We have everything you need up here, I’ll see you soon.’
Maria walks with Bruce, watches him straighten his jacket, shake out his hands, take several deep breaths.
‘You’ve got this. It’s just, like, 10 minutes.’ Maria says brusquely. ‘You go in there, marry Nat, get out. Then we party.’
‘I party.’ Bruce nods seriously and Maria narrows her eyes.
‘Sure you do.’
‘But Maria, there’s something we need to do first.’
Maria tries not to sigh too obviously, it’s a skill she’s learnt well, but after everything; the suit, the cake tasting, the napkin choosing, the- everything she’s just ready to get to the end of the day.
‘Come on, we’re going upstairs.’
Bruce holds out his hand and Maria takes it, letting her get dragged like a child up the fire escape stairs towards the roof.
‘This is where the wedding is- surely we shouldn’t go up yet. Not without the okay from Pepper.’ Maria stammers, pausing by the door, and for once Bruce is the confident one.
‘No, there’s something waiting for you.’
‘Something waiting-?’
Then Bruce holds open the door.
Natasha is standing there, waiting for her. Like she always is; at the end of a long shift, half asleep with a mug of cocoa to let her complain about the junior agents, at the end of their gym sessions, looking down at the mat, giving her time to catch her breath. And now- waiting.
Her hair is naturally curled, pieces pinned back loosely to clear her face, the rest falling down her back. And the dress is-
Maria clears her throat, drags her eyes back up to Nat’s face and stumbles out:
‘You- you look beautiful, Natka. You’re- you’re perfect.’
‘I should be doing this in a different way, I think, possibly on one-’ Natasha begins, then lifts up her skirt slightly, sinking to the ground. ‘I’m on one knee, by the way.’
Maria steps back, some sort of liquid joy running through her blood like fire. Natasha is just looking up at her, hands outstretched, an expression Maria wants nothing more than to translate for the rest of her life painted across her face.
‘Maria, marry me.’ Nat says simply. ‘Now. Here. With all our family, our friends. With me in this dress, and you wearing-’ Natasha clears her throat, gaze following the chain of Maria’s dogtags to her waistcoat. ‘-that suit.’
Then everything zooms back to the present, for Maria. To this moment, practically. Maria is a tactician, she always has been, and every situation is just a million different situations waiting to be broken down.
‘I want that.’ She whispers, taking Natasha’s hands, pulling her back to standing, finally touching her, feeling the soft fabric of her dress, the way it cinches at her hips, the soft bump of boning over her hip. ‘I want nothing more. But- but Bruce.’
‘We signed the papers an hour ago, separately.’ Nat gushes, ‘it’s done. But you- please, Masha.’
‘I’m not going to change.’ Maria is mirroring her with a single tear track, their hands grasping each other, leaning closer and closer. ‘I can’t change. I know it’s not a problem now, but in ten years, in five-’
Nat cuts her off. ‘I don’t care, Maria. I love you-’
‘-If I can't give you what you need-’
‘You can. You always do. I promise.’ Natasha reaches out to tug Maria closer by the back of the neck, pressing their foreheads together.
‘But the sex-’
‘Isn’t what I’m in this for.’ Natasha finishes for her. ‘I want you exactly the way you are. Everything. All this.’ Nat taps Maria’s temple, Maria’s heart, ‘Maybe shorter hair, but we can work on that.’
She pauses. Giving Maria time to think, to conjure up her response when Nat seems capable of chasing every thought from her head.
‘I love you, Natasha Romanov. And if I’m enough for you-’
‘Masha-’ Nat begins, but Maria cuts her off with a short look.
‘I want to be your wife. I want you to be mine.’
‘I already am yours, you dummy.’ Natasha grins. ‘Now get down there.’
‘There?’ Maria’s eyebrow cocks and Nat rolls her eyes, but flushes pink.
‘The aisle, Commander Hill.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
Maria looks to her left. ‘Bruce?’
Bruce stops trying to melt into the background. ‘Yeah?’
‘Will you walk Natasha down the aisle?’
‘Oh.’ Bruce looks between them, from Maria, to Nat, then back again. They both stare back resolutely. Confident in him. Possibly the only people who ever have been. ‘Of course.’
Maria strides down the aisle to intense murmuring, people looking between each other in shock. The crowd assembled is small; the main team, the Bartons and a few trusted SHIELD agents, yet even they don’t know the real story.
Maria reaches the arch of white flowers, turns on her heel and clasps her hands together.
‘Everyone. There’s been a change of plans.’ She announces, watching everyone react. Tony’s passing cash along the line of chairs to Sam.
‘Bruce and Natasha aren’t getting married. They already did.’ Maria explains bluntly, phrasing it down to a mission debrief. ‘Natasha and I are getting married. Or as married as we can in this society. Which is to say not at all legally, but in every way that matters to us.’
She clears her throat and nods to the musicians, whose jaws are on the floor, and will probably be hit with a dozen more NDAs after all this. Poor Pepper.
Bruce hears the music start and turns to face Natasha.
‘This is going well.’
‘That woman needs so much therapy.’ Natasha sighs, staring at the closed door. ‘But I love her so much.’
‘I think she’s just worried about longevity.’ Bruce explains softly, handing her bouquet over, then staring to teak the flowers to make them perfect.
‘Longevity in what? In me? In our relationship?’ Natasha sounds vaguely offended.
‘You won’t be able to have one-night-stands forever, Nat. You’ll get too famous, too- it won’t work. Probably not after this breaks.’
‘Our marriage doesn’t hinge on me having sex with other people. Our marriage hinges on Maria wearing her reading glasses at least twice a week.’ Nat shrugs. ‘Maria’s ace. So what? I get orgasms out of it. And the glasses-’ She wolf whistles.
‘If only everyone saw it that way.’ Bruce grins at her crassness, and takes her arm. ‘Come on, you got something to do.’
‘Maria.’ Nat winks.
Bruce rolls his eyes, ‘Sure. That.’
‘Hey, wife.’ Natasha sidles up behind Maria, wrapping her arms around her waist, and leaning her chin on Maria’s shoulder.
‘Hey.’
‘Y’all are gross.’ Bobbi sighs, ‘I should get married again.’
‘Uh-’ Maria frowns, but Bob’s already yelling across the room.
‘Hunter! Wanna get hitched?’
‘Again?’ The man shouts back, then, ‘sure!’
‘Straight person privileges.’ Natasha coughs, and Bobbi pouts at her.
‘You get better sex. That's lesbian privileges.’
Maria tenses slightly, but Natasha just slaps a kiss on her cheek and winks at Bobbi. ‘Who says we have sex?’
Then she swans off. Bobbi looks between Nat’s retreating back (she’s starting to dance with Lila standing on her feet) and Maria’s serious face.
‘Was that a joke?’
‘No.’ Maria replies, wishing she’d taken that drink from Tony’s hipflask. Bobbi raises her eyebrows.
‘That's the Black Widow right there.’
‘I’m aware.’ Maria says dryly.
‘And you’re not-’ Bobbi cuts herself off, waiting for Maria to fill in.
‘Not inclined. Not that way.’
Bobbi leans in. ‘If that’s your way of saying you’re straight, Pepper’s done a lot of work for nothing.’
Maria snorts. ‘No. I’m asexual.’
She doesn’t explain it. If Bobbi wants to know, she can google it later.
But Bobbi just nods. ‘Cool. Wanna dance?’
‘Nat?’
‘Hmm.’
‘Natasha?’
‘Yeah, what гусеница?’ Natasha finally tears her eyes away from where she’d been watching Maria play cards with Coulson, leaning, chin on her fists across the table.
‘I love you.’
‘You love me, huh?’ Nat giggles, shifting to sit across Bruce’s lap, leaning on his shoulder. ‘You love me.’ She sings it, and Bruce pats her hair down to be able to breathe.
‘Yes. I love you. You’re special to me, Nat.’
‘I’m your sister. Well, and your wife.’ Natasha wrinkles her nose. ‘That’s gross. I’’m uh, that thing. That thing you said you wouldn’t have- a friendshipy…’
‘Platonic soulmate.’
‘That. You’re mine. Me. Kindred souls and all that.’
Bruce can only nod slowly and leans down to press a kiss to Natasha’s forehead.
Bruce watches them, later, the last couple on the dance floor, not because the party had died down (because God knows Thor would never stop dancing if the band was still playing) it’s later, after the guests had left, after Pepper had finally kicked off her heels, and the cameras had been taken away. Natasha had been standing at the edge of the roof, staring out at the city when Maria had offered her hand, a silhouette against the blaring lights of New York.
So they dance.
Not really dancing, more like swaying. Natasha’s dress hitched up with a hair tie on one side and Maria’s blazer abandoned, one of Natasha’s hands vanishing under the lip of Maria’s waistcoat, the only sign of her leading the dance.
Bruce almost feels like he can feel the love. Like it’s some sort of… not an electromagnetic wave, but something that carries mass, or matter. Something that one can feel reverberating around their body, physically affecting them. He can feel the love flowing off them in waves, something peaceful and calm-
Oh wait, they’re making out. Passionate, then.
He looks away politely, finishes gathering a small bouquet from the tiny vases on the tables for his laboratory, and leaves them to it. God knows his wife and best friend need some peace.