The Ultimate Fix-It Fic

2| Bad Problems

Nat woke up to rain softly pattering on the roof and the windows. There was a moment of quiet peace as she laid there in Bruce's arms. It was almost like a dream.

It was almost like her dream.

Natasha suddenly remembered the one she had when she was kidnapped by Ultron a few weeks ago.

A beach house, a study, a kitchen, a living room... it all came back to her now, and she found it surprising how realistic the dream seemed, down to the colour of the couch they had.

The light for a speaking Rebecca lit up the room in a soft glow. "Miss Romanoff, Mr. Stark is on the line for you."

Nat sighed. "Of course he is," she muttered. She flipped back the covers and padded to her study, turning on the HTCI with the flick of a switch. "Tony. What do you want at four-thirty in the morning?"

The billionaire looked tired. "A high school wants me and Bruce to speak at their inaugural assembly next week."

Natasha raised her eyebrow. "Bruce, the international fugitive?" she asked in disbelief.

Tony shrugged. "It's a science school. They teach nerds, not goody-two-shoes's."

"Yes, well, how are we going to get him there?" Nat said. "High schools have cops stationed at every exit, don't they?"

"Some do," Tony admitted. "But they said we can bring Bruce in with a fake name since he's legally dead."

Natasha started. "He's legally what?"

"Dead." Tony grinned. "Told the government that my best friend was dead in, what, June? Since they lost him, they filed him as dead."

"Tony, that's not how the government works," Nat sighed.

"It is if you pay them enough."

"Don't tell me," Natasha leaned back, falling a throb in her temple already. "You bribed the government?"

"The president, actually." Tony inspected his nails casually. "He owes me a debt."

Nat buried her head in her arms. "Why am I not surprised?" she asked nobody in particular. She looked at Tony. "So what, we sneak him in as some guy even though I'll bet his face is plastered everywhere with 'genius of the generation' under it?"

Tony nodded.

Natasha threw a piece of lint at Tony's projected body. "And why are you telling me?"

The billionaire now looked a little apologetic. "So, it turns out I have a meeting that day." He winced as Nat geared up with another piece of lint.

"Move it!"

"I can't! It's with the president!"

"Well fuck!" Natasha stormed up from her chair. "What do you want me to do about it then?!"

"To..." Tony hesitated before spotting Nat's impatient glare. "To take my spot and talk to the high schoolers?"

Natasha sat back down in her chair. "As who, Romanoff? Rushman? Greene? I have ten different identities in New York, you know."

"Greene?" Tony's voice was getting steadily higher-pitched. "You and Bruce can be married–" he physically ducked as a stress ball flew through the projected image. "Natty– please stop throwing things!"

"You woke me up at 4 for this bullshit!"

The study door opened and Bruce poked his head in. "Tasha, what's wro– oh." He saw Tony. "What did you do?" he asked the billionaire tiredly.