Tightrope

Head Over Boots

One week later Natasha is heading down the hallway to locate Bruce. It's been a week of awkward and limited interactions focused on the kids and with him working until 3am to catch up on projects.

They try, but it's always uncomfortable and so avoiding hard conversations keeps the peace.

She tugs at her dark red dress, right earring in hand as she fastens her left. Pushing her way inside of the lab, she's eager to get on the road despite seeing him for the first time all day;

"Are you ready, Bruce?"

Banner in no rush to move, his eyes fall on the redhead. He's smitten;

"You look great, Tasha."

Her head stays low as she puts her other earring in, a warm blush underneath her makeup.

Tony is sitting on top of the desk, calmer than usual. Their somber state tells Romanoff the boys have been sharing in some sort of deeper, hard conversation.

Tony points with his pen, "Where are you going? Fancy dinner for two?"

"A private event and we're going to be late," Natasha answers quickly.

"Right," Bruce snatches his jacket.

She turns around abruptly and makes her way to the door.

Tony salutes, "Tell Clint congrats. I expect to be invited to the one year anniversary party."

She rolls her eyes, "Don't be offended about not receiving an invitation, it's Clint. I doubt he invited anyone on the team."

Romanoff looks up toward Banner as they walk down the hall, leaving Tony in the lab, "What were you two talking about?"

He taps his pockets for the keys, "Nothing."

Natasha lifts them from her own bag, "I'll drive."

"Did you have a decent morning?" he asks sincerely.

"Yes," they enter the elevator, moving quickly to the garage.

Natasha bites her cheek and climbs in to start the car, "The first few rooms are ready at the center. I asked a few agents to help us through the process."

"Okay," he sighs, focusing out of the window. She's back to talking about the kids and work.

Natasha takes a deep breath, her eyes momentarily low, "And I have a mission this week so I need you to clear my medical card."

"...Are you alright?"

Her eyelids are puffy and her voice keeps cracking, "I'm great."

He wants to scream, struggling to keep his voice low once they reach the highway.

"Natasha. Stop. I can't do this."

"Do what?"

Bruce tugs his curls, "Please pull over for a second."

She lifts her eyebrows, frustrated over the traffic, "We're already late. And it's a long drive."

"Natasha, I really need you to."

Romanoff twists her lips and complies, shutting the car off with extra force. She crosses her arms. He leans forward and turns to face her, "Can you talk to me?"

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Natasha."

"What?"

He zones out, staring straight ahead.

Bruce brushes the dashboard, "You just came back from a mission where you were locked up in a mansion with-."