A/N: DON'T ASK WHERE THE PARROT CAME FROM. I still don't know the answer.

Prompt: "Brucenat Prompt: "I would never advise shooing away a good idea."

Enjoy!

"Miss Romanoff, Dr. Banner."

JARVIS' announcement almost went unheard by Bruce, who was undergoing the delicate balance of trying to keep his back from aching more and bending over a microscope. The microscope won out, and he forgot about the pain until a hand fell on his back, making him straighten up unconsciously. Natasha was on his right, raising an eyebrow.

"You know, it's three in the morning."

Bruce was about to respond (preferably with something witty, but his brain was almost mush), when something caught his eye and made his jaw go slack. What he managed to get out was, "You know, there's a parrot on your shoulder."

"Yep," Natasha responded, popping the 'p'.

"Okay." When she didn't elaborate further, he asked, "Why is there a parrot on your shoulder?"

"Now that is an excellent question," Natasha replied, grinning. "And one that I'm happy to answer, but only if you get some sleep. And agree to let me cuddle you."

"Far be it from me to refuse your cuddling," Bruce teased, shaking his head fondly as she turned, already heading for the door with the parrot still on her shoulder.

They headed for the elevator, hands tangling together at some point on the way. Bruce would've been tempted to place his head on her shoulder, but there was a feathered obstacle in his way. Said obstacle's beady eye was fixed on him as they rode up the elevator. It should've been unnerving, but Bruce was mostly still trying to process that the parrot was even present.

The parrot let out a reluctant caw when they got to Natasha's apartment, but flew to a perch that Bruce knew hadn't been there yesterday.

"So," he said. "Why…?"

"We had to raid a pet store that was a front for Hydra," Natasha said. Bruce was impressed by her ability to say that with a straight face.

"A pet store," he repeated.

"Yeah. The parrot wouldn't get off my shoulder."

Bruce nodded. Of course it wouldn't.

"And does it…?"

Now Natasha smirked. "I taught it to only speak around Steve."

Bruce snorted; he was willing to bet that Steve wasn't all that happy about that. The parrot stayed on its perch, suddenly very well-behaved for a bird that wouldn't leave Natasha's side earlier. He appreciated it, especially since they're heading into the bedroom and shutting the door and stripping down to their underwear.

Natasha kissed him before they climbed into bed, but it was half-hearted; she was as exhausted as he felt. They ended up in a disorganized pile of sheets and limbs, with him resting his head on her shoulder. It didn't take long for either of them to sleep.

Bruce's morning routine was interrupted by a fluttering noise and a sudden, sharp pain in his shoulder that made him jump out of his skin.

"Holy - " He turned his head and found himself face-to-face with the parrot. It gave him a dirty look, like it was daring him to remove it from his shoulder.

"Fine," he muttered, moving into the kitchen and brewing coffee for Natasha and tea for himself. The parrot didn't move off of his shoulder the entire time, not even when Natasha came into the room and blinked at the two of them.

"I see you've made a friend," she commented.

"Yeah, we've bonded."

Natasha shrugged. "It seemed like a good idea at the time. Save the parrot, or leave it in Hydra's hands. No-brainer, really."

"Well, I would never advise shooing away a good idea."

"Speaking of good ideas…" Natasha had that look on her face - the one that said that she was up to something. "I was thinking we could eat breakfast in the communal kitchen today."

He shrugged; who was he to argue? He wasn't surprised when the parrot transferred itself to Natasha's shoulder on the way up. It stuck its head up when the elevator doors opened onto the penthouse floor, revealing the other Avengers in various states of dress.

"Look, a fossil," the parrot croaked.

Steve groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Again? Really?"

Bruce coughed to hide his laugh. Steve lifted his head and glared, indicating that he'd heard. Natasha smiled smugly and moved to grab cereal from the cabinet, momentarily intercepted by Tony, who was gleefully telling her that he could think of a few gadgets for the parrot.

"No," Bruce said. "We are not giving it gadgets, Tony."

Tony raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you Papa Parrot now, Bruce?"

"That damn parrot's bad enough without two parents to defend it," Steve muttered.

"Language," the parrot said.

This time, Bruce didn't even bother holding in his laughter, ignoring Steve's disapproving glower. Clint was in a similar state on the other side of the kitchen island. A thought occurred to Bruce.

"Have you named it, yet?" he asked Natasha.

"Yeah," she replied, smirking. "I named him Fury."

"Oh my god," Tony said, looking like a kid who'd just gotten told that Christmas was coming early. "We have to send Fury a photo with that as the caption. We can tell him that Fury the parrot would not be alive today without our pirate overlord."

"I'm not opposed to this plan," gasped Clint, still fighting for breath.

"Look, a fossil." Which only set Clint off again.

The conversation devolved into an argument between Tony and Steve on whether or not it was a good idea to send a photo of Fury to Fury, but Bruce forewent paying attention to that in favor of moving to stand next to Natasha, both clutching their respective mugs and watching the chaos unfold before them. Fury flew off of Natasha's shoulder and settled onto Steve's head, who winced while Tony snapped several photographs.

"Thanks for adopting a parrot with me, Parrot Dad," Natasha said.

"You're welcome, Parrot Mom."