A/N - Look who is back!!!!! :D
Prompt: ‘What were you thinking???”
It was said at exactly the same time by two genius scientists with exactly the same tone of righteous indignation. The only difference was the setting and the body language. Bruce Banner, ninja of calm and patience was not green but solid with rage, bristling and tense and angry in a way that made it clear how hurt he was beneath it all. Tony Stark, master of all that was self-destructive (including love) was melodramatic with disbelief, hand to his chest and only the calculation in his eyes belying the overblown mannerisms.
One was in a hospital room. One was in a penthouse suite. Both were angry, but only one was betrayed.
Bruce had always preferred cats to dogs. Dogs made him uncomfortable, needed too much, relied too much on his presence, on him being there. A cat would tolerate you, might even like you, but they did not need you. It made him uncomfortable to be needed. Tony was always someone who had needed him, even if just to be another person who understood what it was like to think five times as fast as anyone else in the room. Perhaps that was why he had always gravitated to Natasha. She had never truly needed his company, his love or his affection. She had liked it well enough, but he had always known she would be pragmatic enough to shrug her shoulders when he ran.
She looked at him now with eyes that were exactly as green as the cat he had compared her to, and she did not speak. It had been quite a few days before Bruce could bring himself to intentionally cross paths with her after what he had heard in the hall. The tower was big enough for two people to avoid each other in. But not anymore. The tension wasn’t good for him, and there was plenty enough going on with the spider and Tony and his Not very good health what the hell Tony. So here they were. In Natasha’s old rooms. She had finished a workout and he could see that she was sporting some old injuries. She was beautiful. She was beloved. She had betrayed them.
“I don’t know what you seem to like about waking the big guy up, Nat, but it has to stop. Right. This. Second.” Bruce breathed deeply through his temper flare. “Do you have any idea what might have happened if I had hulked out in a HOSPITAL FULL OF PEOPLE AND OUR VERY SICK TONY?”
She blinked three times fast, a sure sign she was surprised. “I thought you would be angry and I wanted to make sure we would control the situation.”
“Of course I’m bloody angry, you and Tony dropped on me that he DIED!”
“I deserted him,” Natasha said flatly – the phrase quick and sharp like one of her knives. “He died after I deserted him.”
“Oh don’t patronise me.” Bruce rolled his eyes and wished to whatever gods apparently did exist out there that he wasn’t surrounded by self-flagellating idiots. “It’s obvious you were splitting from him to ensure he wasn’t incriminated along with you. You let Barnes and Rogers go to try to ‘control the situation’ – any fool can see that, though note, Nat – maybe SHARE WITH THE REST OF THE CLASS NEXT TIME. Once that backfired you were a target and we all know Tony couldn’t have left Rhodes to go on the run right then. He would have if you’d needed him, but it would have been disastrous for all involved.” Briefly it crossed his mind that there was probably a world out there where Tony Stark was dragged away from his best friend. Bruce doubted that went well for that particular world. “So you fought publicly – very nice – and there he is, totally exonerated of any hand in the matter.”
She tilted her head, rolled her shoulders and started to strip out of her work-out clothes, lithe and lethal in every way. “You keep quiet too often. It is easy to forget you are as quick as Tony is.”
“Nat.” His voice was very dark, even in his own ears and he saw her stiffen, her back to him as she reached for a top. “Don’t try to poke the Hulk again. That’s my choice. Not yours.”
“Very well.” She pulled the top over her head and turned to him, eyes glinting. “Now that threats and shouting are out of the way, much as I love the familiarity of such activities, shall we discuss Rogers and the others?” She offered her hand, and Bruce paused a moment before he shook. There was a lot of water under their bridge, but it hadn’t all been on her side. He had used her in a way as much as she had used him and they were no good as friends-turned-lovers, but they might manage as ex-lovers-turned-friends.
“What happened with Clint?”
“He didn’t use his head – idiot that he is. His family are in the Tower of course, but we will have a long talk when I see him again.”
Natasha smirked, sharp and sly, and Bruce relaxed a little for the first time in a while. They would talk about betrayal and old wounds, about friends turned enemies and trusts broken. They would talk about the wounds they had given each other and how they would deal with those who threatened their own. Natasha had always had a soft spot for Tony, ever since she had processed the heavy metal poisoning issue. She would not take well to whatever had happened here.
Back in the hospital, Tony Stark was looking at Peter Parker with an expression exactly between horror and hysterical glee. The absolute child was a picture of adolescent guilt, all hunched shoulders and affected defensiveness and was currently having an argument with his BIG SISTER FRIDAY WHERE HAD THEY GOTTEN THAT IDEA.
“You said you weren’t gonna tell –“
“You said you were going to be careful, Mr Parker, I hardly think –“
“He can’t trace me, I used several fake ISPs and –“
“He is not known for his cleverness, that is true, but he is known for associating with those with better resources, Mr Parker, and I don’t think –“
“You’re just mad I didn’t like your idea about the flower deliveries!!”
“It would have been poetic. The language of flowers clearly states that particular combination reads ‘Die in a fire’. It sums up the appropriate feelings towards such actions as his exactly. All my data confirms this.”
“Children,” Tony said slowly. “Let me try to piece this together. Friday, you first.”
“You were going to send Clint Barton a threatening message in flowers?”
“Yes, Boss. You said I wasn’t to do anything aggressive, boss. Flowers seemed the appropriate compromise.”
“You don’t even know where he is, Friday.”
“Of course not, Boss. There’s no way I could have tracked the multiple tracking devices in his and the other Exvengers gear, Boss.”
Tony couldn’t resist a tiny little fist-pump at the sarcasm dripping from his baby girl’s voice. “Okay – well. Um…” His better side struggled with his bitter side who was still smarting over the futurist comment. “Do it anyway then and don’t let anyone know you know, Friday.”
“Okay, Boss.” She sounded positively smug, and a sound not unlike a raspberry came out of the speakers, at which Peter glared – indignant teenage angst all over his face.
“You next, kiddo. Did you or did you not get Friday to find Clint Barton and Steve Roger’s email accounts for you?”
Tony imagined the flowers ending up on Clint’s doorstep in Wakanda and giggled a little, smothering it quickly with a hand before Peter could think he was off the hook. “And what exactly have you been doing with them?”
“Um.” Peter squirmed. “Well.”
“Mr Parker has been signing their e-mail addresses up to luxury item mailing lists.”
Friday repeated herself and Tony stared long and hard at the strange child in front of him. “Whyyyy?”
“I figured it would mess with them. Fois gras and truffles and oysters and perfume and things.”
Tony imagined Clint Barton who drank cheap orange juice because he liked the added sugar and ate bad takeaway three days old because his stomach was pickled permanently by the terrible vodka Natasha drank with him receiving spam from truffle companies, and Steve Rogers I Smell Like Sunshine And Baseball getting Chanel perfume mailings.
“C’mere.” Tony beckoned Peter over and gave him an awkward hug. “That was very very dangerous don’t do it again. Friday, give Mr Parker an allowance.”
Peter squeaked in indignation, but stayed put for the hug while Tony giggled into his hair. That was enough of a win for one day.
