Title: Here Among The Clouds, We Are Safe and Sound (You Lift Me Up)
Song: Lift Me Up - Mree
Category: Thor/Avengers
Genre: Romance/Drama/Humor/Tragedy
Ship: Bruce/Darcy
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: Day #4 – Crimson | Darcy Lewis Week (I'm late to the party and I don't care)
Warning(s): Sexual Content, Coarse Language, Character Death
Author's Note: This was meant to be a oneshot, but it got so long that I had to separate it into parts.
Word Count: 8,200
Summary: From the beginning to the end; how Bruce finally lets himself find happiness only to have it all destroyed.

Here Among The Clouds, We Are Safe and Sound (You Lift Me Up)
-Novel-

I.

To fully understand what had brought them to this point, to the Hulk sitting in the pouring rain, cradling a body in his arms, screaming at the sky for daring to soak them, one has to go back to the beginning.

Not of time, as that would be arrogant considering in the great span of the world, of life itself, they were but two people. Not even of his life, though it had done its fair share of shaping him into the person just damaged enough to be easy prey to the simmering of rage beneath the surface. Not to the beginning of the Hulk, where a science project irrevocably changed his life for the worse. And not to the start of the Avengers, a team that gave Bruce focus, gave him purpose after he'd deemed his life, his work, worthless in the wake of the devastation that was his forever changed form.

Just to the beginning of them…

It was September of 2012, the tenth to be exact. He remembered vividly because with September 11th around the corner, the Avengers were in high demand for press coverage. And not a little fear of thread considering its terrible past and the possibility of something similar happening to repeat the tragedy.

Bruce was, not unusual, buried in his work, as he had been the last forty-two hours, running on a steady stream of room temperature tea and a box of stale Ritz crackers. A diet that might've been better if he'd looked up to see the sandwich that was put down for him, later going soggy in the middle and dry on the outside after repeatedly being ignored, and the Greek salad placed a little closer but still unseen, eventually wilting before it was shoved into a nearby garbage.

He didn't even look up as the lab doors swished open, though if he'd bothered to look around he would have noticed that the other scientists and lab techs had long hung up their white coats and left for much-needed rest.

So when a shadow fell over him, his brow furrowed, irritated at the imposed interruption. He raised his head, reaching for his glasses where they sat atop his desk, one arm crossed behind the lenses. He rubbed his dry eyes as he drew them on and opened his mouth to tell whoever it was that was bothering him to leave him alone, he was working on something.

But his words caught in his throat, as instead of one of his many "minions" as Tony liked to call them, he was rather faced with a beautiful young woman, bereft of a lab coat. In fact, she appeared to be in her pajamas. Confused, his eyes take her in from top to bottom, from fuzzy frog-head slippers to the purple sleep-mask she had pushed up into her dark, tangled hair.

"Uh…" His eyes darted away, finding the lab otherwise empty. "Can—Can I help you?"

"Yes. You can," she said, giving a quick nod. "You can get out of the lab coat and into bed."

"I-I'm sorry?" He choked a little on his tongue, a flush warming the back of his neck. He blinked a few times, trying to replay her words to see if maybe he'd misunderstood.

"It's four in the morning!" she told him. "Now, I was told my job ended at five, but I was pretty sure Coulson was talking PM, so you—!" She pointed at him, "Mister Scruffy, are going to have to either find a way to reorganize all your genius to normal working hours or me and you are going to be meeting up like this a lot…" She crossed her arms and tapped a slippered foot. "So?"

For a moment, and he would blame it on his sleep-addled mind at the time, he was completely distracted by the woman's chest being defined even more by the pressure of her arms crossed beneath it and the tight fabric of her tank top stretched enticingly across her cleavage.

She cleared her throat and raised a brow, which he caught as he quickly dragged his gaze upward. "Sleep," she told him.

"Look, I… I don't know what Coulson hired you to do," He readjusted his glasses, before motioning to his microscope, "But, I—"

"Personal assistant, expert scientist rearer, generally awesome Girl Friday to Doctor Fluffy himself, whatever works for you." She shrugged. "But you can just call me Darcy."

Bruce's mouth floundered for a reply, his brow furrowed in a knot, eyes falling as he searched for a way to argue that. "I—I don't need an assistant."

"Because you've done a great job of taking care of yourself," she said, eyeing the contents of his desk, where his box of stale crackers was turned over, crumbs spilling out. Beside that were six separate cups of tea in various stages, some still filled with liquid, others dried with it, one with a dead, floating insect of some kind.

"I had a breakthrough," he said somewhat defensively.

"Yeah, I've read your file, I'm sure you get a lot of those." She shook her head. "You can explain it to me on the elevator to your apartment." Reaching forward, she took him by the arm and started hauling him up from his chair.

"I really don't— You probably shouldn't—" He stood, shrugging his arm back to his side and frowning. "I'm not sure what exactly my file said, but I don't think you know what you're getting into."

"It had a bright red 'Handle With Care' stamp on it, trust me, I know what I'm getting into." With a yawn, she started for the door, reaching up to run a hand through her messy hair. "You're a crazy-smart scientist who occasionally turns into a giant green rage monster." She shrugged. "Put like that, it reminds me of my mother… She was a single parent who worked two jobs who occasionally turned into a drunk bitch." She shrugged. "On the bright side, we don't talk anymore..."

Taking his lab coat off, he asked, "That's the bright side?"

They walked down the hallway, destination the elevator.

"You're right. The bright side is that I didn't turn out like her." She frowned. "Although, my teachers used to say they wished her work ethic rubbed off on me a little more…" She frowned, tipping her head thoughtfully. "Whatever, she was the best waitress-slash-sex-hotline-operator in town, but her parenting skills were for shit."

Bruce stared at the young woman out of the corner of his eyes, watching as she rubbed her tired face before holding her pass up to the elevator's lock screen. Climbing on, she moved to one side and leaned her head back against the wall, arms tucked around her again.

Bruce hit the button for his floor and then stood quietly, feeling the urge to say something, but not quite sure what.

"It's temporary," she said.

"Hm?" He turned to her, eyes wide. "What?"

"Me, working for you," she clarified. "It's temporary."

"Oh…" He nodded. "Well, that's probably for the best," he decided. "Given my… problem, I'm not sure prolonged exposure is good for anybody."

She snorted.

He looked up sharply.

"Look, the pity train has your name all over it, I get it," she told him, opening her eyes to look at him. "But it's not stopping at my station and I'm not getting on." She shook her head. "I'm here to assist you; make sure you eat, go to sleep at a semi-decent hour, and keep you from generally hurting your health." She shrugged. "I did it for Jane and, green ragey issues or not, I don't think you'll be that difficult." Her eyes widened for emphasis. "Now if you were Tony Stark, I think we'd have a few more problems. But you…" She raised a brow and half-smiled. "I don't know if it's the fact that you tip-toe around yourself, but you're like a kitten in comparison."

He scowled. "You've only been working here, what? A day?"

She smirked. "Try a week." She shook her head. "For you anyway. I was working with Jane, but her and Eric took off for parts unknown, wanting to work on the rainbow bridge some more, see what they can dig up. Since I'm all rainbow'd out, Coulson kept me around here and put me on Fluffy detail."

Lips pursed, he asked, "Why do you keep calling me that?"

She grinned widely, looking away as the elevator dinged to tell them they'd reached his floor. Climbing off, she said over her shoulder, "Your hair…" She looked up at it, giving a lopsided smile as he reached up to pat it down. "It just looks fluffy…"

Bruce felt that embarrassed blush fill his neck again. Clearing his throat, he said, "I haven't showered in awhile. I run my hands through my hair when I'm frustrated."

"I know." She walked down the hall toward his private apartment. "A week, remember? I've been leaving you food and tea, but you only ever go for the crackers. The tea was touch and go; you weren't into the black or white, and you seemed to like the oolong tea all right, but I noticed you were a lot more open to green tea, so…"

Bruce tried to think back and see if he noticed her at all in the last week, but he was coming up blank.

"No worries, you know about me now…" she said, seeming to catch on to his thread of thought. "I left you alone before because you were getting enough sleep, but when JARVIS told me you we're hitting the two days mark and you weren't budging, I thought it was time to intervene." Holding the door of his apartment open for him, she waved an impatient arm to get him to walk through.

"You have access to my apartment?" he asked, eyeing her warily.

"What? You think I'm going to sneak in and watch you shower?" she quipped, amused. "Look, without access it's going to be a lot harder to make sure you do what you need to."

"Which is?"

"Eat, sleep, work, only on a modified to normal human standards schedule." She frowned and added, "And because that sounds way too depressing, I'm going to add 'have fun' in there somewhere… Preferably without chemicals, but since those things occasionally make things interesting, I'm not going to rule them out."

Bruce blinked at her. "You're going to make me have fun?"

"I'm going to assist you in having fun," she corrected.

"And if I don't want to…?" he wondered, kicking his shoes off before making his way toward his kitchen.

"You're right, maybe assist is a bit of an understatement. Technically, you could think of me as the Pepper to your Tony, only without the sexual tension those two have going on." She paused. "At least so far, I don't know what the future brings. Contrary to my Aunt Mary's so-called psychic powers, I do not have the sight."

Bruce was feeling more and more exhausted the longer their conversation went on. Partly because the last two days were catching up and partly, he thought, because Darcy, for all her own exhaustion, tended to move between conversation points in a fashion that left him thoroughly confused as to how they found the subject in the first place.

"So you're my… baby sitter?" he asked, mouth twisting grumpily.

Reaching past him to open the fridge and look inside for something to eat, she tapped her lips. "Only I get much better pay, benefits, and the added bonus of having someone exceedingly smart and handsome to co-exist with." She nodded. "You want an omelet?"

"Sure. I—" He paused. "So Coulson really thinks it's smart to have you watch out for me…" He looked her up and down. "Are you trained?"

"Of course! Darcy's been using the bathroom all on her own since she was three," she quipped. Seeing his unamused expression, she rolled her eyes. "Fine, so I'm not exactly a secret agent…" Grabbing out the eggs, cream, green pepper, cheese, ham, and a tomato, she added, "In actuality, I'm a poli-sci major, but is there really much of a difference?"

"You studied political sciences?" He frowned. "And you're working as a personal assistant?"

"For an Avenger," she amended. "I wouldn't exactly call that something to scoff at."

"Not scoffing," he muttered. "Just a little confused."

Sighing, she shrugged. "Like I said, it's temporary. Personally, I think Coulson is grooming me to work next to him, especially since Wendy is like ready to pop any second now. And she kind of, maybe expressed an interest in not having to deal with Coulson's workload while trying to raise a baby, so apparently she's going to take off at least a year or two… Which I'm good with, because that leaves a wide open space for yours truly to fill…" Getting down a bowl and searching his drawers for a knife and a whisk, she assured, "But don't worry, that's at least a month away and I'll personally prepare whoever they pick to be your next assistant."

"I don't want a next assistant."

"Aw, I'm touched," she said, cracking the eggs into the bowl.

Bruce rolled his eyes. "I don't want my current assistant," he mumbled, moving to sit on the stool at the island counter. Rubbing a hand over his hair, he added, "No offense."

She snorted. "I feel like that's going to be something you say to me a lot…" Without bothering to search for a cutting board, Darcy started chopping up the tomato, green pepper, and ham, seemingly amused when she noticed his grimace for her lack of concern over his marble countertops. "Pan?" she asked.

He pointed to a cupboard and sighed.

"Aha!" she said, pulling one out and setting it on the stove. "You want toast too?"

"Please," he said.

For the next few minutes, as Darcy prepared his impromptu breakfast, he just watched her. She moved easily, sometimes shaking her hips, humming under her breath to a song in her head. She pulled an elastic off her wrist to tie up her hair and waved the spatula around absently.

Darcy, he realized, was a free spirit.

Just in the short time he'd known her, she seemed to have no brain-to-mouth filter, didn't seem all that concerned with The Other Guy making an appearance, freely expressed her mommy-issues, and was under the impression that somehow she was going to tame the 'wild beast' that was both man and monster.

He wasn't sure why, but for some reason that amused him. All of it. Here was this young woman who had about the same amount of gumption as Tony and the apparent strength of Pepper, or so she thought. So far all she'd had to do was fetch him food and force him away from his lab. He wondered just how cool under pressure she would be when faced with his green alter-ego.

His good-humor faded then, as he thought about just how tiny and very breakable Darcy was, even for all her big talk.

Both a glass of milk and a plate clattered down in front of him then and his eyes fell to the omelet and butter-slathered slices of toast.

"Eat," she ordered, holding a fork out to him.

Using the fork to cut off an edge piece, he filled his mouth tentatively. Darcy still looked like she belonged in college, —maybe it was the pajamas pants with Homer Simpson's face on them—, so he was expecting her to still be in the stage of 'I only know how to cook things on a hot plate.' The perfect blend of spices, cheese, ham, and vegetables surprised him, melting on his tongue until he groaned with appreciation.

"Hells yeah," she said with a proud grin. "Iron Chef Darcy." She bowed, before moving back to gather the dishes and bring them to the sink.

"It's really good," he admitted, sawing off another bite.

"I know, right?" She grinned, filling the sink with hot, soapy water to soak the pan and spatula in while she quickly wiped off the knife and put it in the rack. "One good thing about momma-Lewis not sticking around much, Aunt Mary was a kickass cook and she was happy to share the skill."

"Lewis?" he said, brow furrowed.

"My last name," she explained. "Darcy 'Fantabulous' Lewis."

He snorted slightly. "I sincerely hope you're joking."

She gave him a wide-eyed innocent look before finally cracking up. "Yeah. Mom wasn't quite that cool. I got stuck with the ever so regal Constance…" She rolled her eyes. "Technically, I was born Darcenia Constance Lewis, but, pfft, that kind of mouthful wasn't gonna fly."

He raised a brow. "I don't know…" he mused, mouth tilting. "Darcenia is such an attractive name…"

Hands deep in the dish water, Darcy scrubbed the pan clean. "I dare you to call me Darcenia, Doc…" she told him. "We're going to see how far you pain threshold takes you before Big Green comes calling."

Taking up a slice of toast, he took a bite and said, "I'll keep that in mind."

Eyeing him, Darcy eventually returned to finishing up the dishes before taking out a wet rag, ringing it out, and moving back to wipe down the counters and stove.

"You don't have to clean up after me. Like you said, your job ends at five pm and I highly doubt Coulson or Fury will approve over time…" He frowned. "Even if they do, they'll probably make you fill out a stack of paperwork for it."

Shrugging, Darcy finished up and tossed the cloth back in the sink. "You looked like you had death nipping at your heels, Doc. I don't think making one meal and cleaning up after myself is going to break the bank."

He nodded, staring down at his plate. "Thank you."

"No worries." She circled around and hopped up onto the counter top next to him, reaching down to steal his piece of toast and taking a bite out of the corner. "We've got at least a month before Coulson steals me away, might as well get used to each other."

Bruce frowned, looking between her and his meal.

She laughed. "Territorial much?" Brushing her hands and lap of crumbs, she slid back down to her feet. "Okay. I'm going to get some sleep." She eyed the clock. "Drop your plate in the dishwasher when you're done and then get to bed… I don't want to see you in your lab today." She pointed at him. "And I'll be on the look out."

He opened his mouth to argue but she glared.

"One day isn't going to kill you. Everything going on in your head is still going to be there. Leave it for a day, get some rest, and you'll probably see it even more clearly." Turning on her heel, she started for the door. "I'll see you bright and early Monday morning!"

Pausing, he perked up in his chair. "What day is it today?"

Her laughter reached back to him. "Sunday."

He nodded, although his shoulders slumped. He wondered if he could get in some meditation before going to bed, but then a yawn interrupted him.

"Night Doc," Darcy's voice reached him before the door closed behind her.

Absently, Bruce waved a hand, despite the fact that she couldn't see him. His jaw cracked before his yawn finally wore away and he dug back into his breakfast. Finishing up, he drained the last of his milk before circling around to put everything away in the dish washer. The sun was breaking through outside, painting the sky a navy blue color rather than the pitch black of night. As he walked to his bedroom, JARVIS automatically closed the shades for him and turned up the lights to aid him as he changed out of his two-day old clothes. Fearing a shower might actually keep him awake, he climbed into his bed instead and let his eyes fall closed. He didn't imagine he'd sleep for too long and he wondered just what Darcenia would do when she found him in his lab.

He fell asleep with his mouth curving in a smile.

Darcy turned out to be more of a challenge than Bruce first expected, possibly reasserting the fact that she was more like Pepper than he'd anticipated. For the first week, she left him to his morning routine, arriving in the lab an hour after he had to check in and see if he needed anything, from tea to a snack or to paperwork he needed filing. Truth be told, he wasn't sure his desk or lab had ever been so organized. Of course, she had a system that he didn't get right away, seeing as it was what she liked to call 'Darcy Proof.' But after she explained the general gist of why she filed things in certain places, and the more he got to know her personality, he learned how to keep up with her.

The second week, (because for some reason she decided to stick around, even after Jane returned toting an excited, friendly Thor behind her), she started arriving in the mornings to make sure he had breakfast.

"JARVIS told me you've been meditating more lately and since you're a sucker for punctuality you're missing breakfast," she announced as she breezed into his apartment.

Sitting on the floor, his legs crossed, arms braced on his thighs, palms up, middle finger and thumb pressed together as he was mid-meditation, Bruce merely turned his head to see her. "Funny thing about meditation, doesn't really have a time limit and generally deserves complete silence."

"You've got some weird whale music going on, I wouldn't call that anywhere near silent…" She wrinkled her nose, pausing at the stereo to turn it off, "Much as I'd like it to be."

Sighing, Bruce pushed himself up to his feet. "Good morning, Darcy," he greeted, raising his brows. "Was there something you needed?"

"You," she said simply.

Bruce felt his stomach give an involuntary tug.

"Eating properly so I don't have to worry about you following in Jane's crappy scientist diet footsteps."

"Your concern is overwhelming," he said drolly, moving toward the kitchen.

"How do you feel about grapefruit?" she wondered. "Or are we still on that hard-boiled eggs kick of last week?"

"I'm not partial to grapefruit. But I do have fresh strawberries and blueberries in the fridge."

"Awesome. And I know you still have oatmeal because I was going to steal it to make cookies," she mused, walking past him.

"Was I going to get any of those cookies?" he wondered, mouth tilting in a smile.

"I guess that depends on whether or not you learn the all important 'breakfast is the most important meal of the day' lesson, brought to you today by Darcy 'Best Assistant You'll Ever Have' Lewis."

"Lesson learned," he assured. "In fact, I think it was ingrained some time in elementary school."

She looked over at him skeptically, standing in front of the pantry as she pulled out the bag of oatmeal. "If it's so ingrained, why are we having this conversation?"

He frowned, taking a seat at the island. "I've been…" His lips pursed. "I don't know. I've just been stressed out lately, so I've been trying to counter it with more meditation."

"Stressed out how?" she wondered, taking down a bowl before moving to the fridge to dig in the crisper for the fruit. "Because last time I checked, stress means there's something I could be doing to alleviate it…"

Bent over as she was, her jeans were drawn tight over her hips and displayed Darcy's other ample assets, emphasis on the ass. "Yeah, I don't think you can help me out with this kind of stress," he muttered, reaching up to scrub a hand over his mouth.

Scoffing, she stood upright and moved to finish getting his breakfast ready. "Trust me, if you've got stress, I can fix it. I mean, is it of the work variety?" She frowned. "'Cause yeah, I can't really figure out the equations for you or whatever, but I'm getting really good at scaring the little science minions into doing whatever I want."

He smiled slightly. "I know. I've seen you."

"And if it's not work-work, maybe it's something Avengers style?" She cocked a brow before popping the bowl in the microwave. "I get that my security clearance probably isn't there yet, but if you ever wanna talk about something, I've been told I'm an awesome listener."

"Something else Aunty Mary told you?" he teased.

"Hey, Aunt Mary is very rarely wrong. She's—"

"A psychic, I remember."

Darcy rolled her eyes. "Psychic or not, she's got mad people skills."

"You would have to if you wanted to convince people you had mystical powers to extract money out of them," he returned, brow raised, lips pursed.

"Don't knock it 'til you try it," she argued lightly, digging out a knife to chop up the newly rinsed strawberries. "And anyway, I am a good listener…" She frowned. "Unless you're Jane and you wanna talk about science… Or Thor…" Her eyes thinned. "But that has more to do with being able to look that little puppy-dog of a God in the eye later without blushing."

Bruce choked on air, his eyes wide.

"Yeah, she's a sharer," she mused, smirking. "The things I could tell you about Thor and his hammer…" she said, wiggling her eyebrows.

Bruce waved a hand to stop her.

"Spoilsport," she muttered, before turning to get his bowl from the microwave as it beeped. Moving back to the counter, she stirred the porridge before grabbing up a handful of blueberries and sliced strawberries to put on top. "Milk?" she wondered.

"Please."

Finally, digging the spoon into the bowl, she pushed it in front of him. "And if it's not either of those, that means it's either Hulk or Bruce related…" Eyes narrowed, she stared at him searchingly. "So what's got you all tensed up, boss?"

That would be his increasingly attractive assistant.

Lately, it seemed it wasn't the fear of Hulking out and hurting an innocent bystander that made him think having a personal assistant was a bad thing. It was the fact that the person assistant happened to be attractive and smart and possibly the most tactile person he'd ever met.

To prove it, Darcy's finger reached out and tapped him on the back of the hand. "Most important meal of the day," she emphasized.

Giving a nod, he reached for his spoon and dug in. Two bites later, seeing her inquisitive face still staring back, he finally said, "It's nothing. I'm dealing with it." Seeing her unconvinced expression, he added, "I promise."

With a sigh, Darcy circled around to his side. "Okay…" She reached up and squeezed his shoulder, letting it drag across his back. "I have to stop in and see Coulson about some paperwork, but I'll see you in the lab… Unless you need me for anything?"

That flush that filled his neck every time his mind took something she said in the wrong direction, flared to life. "Uh, no…" He licked his lips and directed his gaze down at his bowl. "I'll see you there in…" He glanced at the clock. "Well, I'll be down there in an hour. How long is Coulson going to keep you?"

"Knowing him and paperwork?" She snorted. "I'll be lucky if I see you before lunch."

He frowned.

"No worries, Fluffy," she said, flicking her hand up to rub the back of her fingers over the faint whiskers on his jaw. "I'll bring you something good to eat." Moving away, she started toward the hall, and he watched her go, his hand briefly rising to touch his face where the warmth of her knuckles felt like it lingered.

"I'm thinking Thai, how about you?"

He smiled. "Thai's good."

Looking at him over her shoulder, she winked.

And Bruce knew then he'd just be getting up earlier for the remainder of the month; he was going to need that extra meditation, of that he was sure.

Over the third week, Darcy seemed to be testing his self-restraint as far as it would go. It wasn't that she wasn't competent; honestly, she seemed to know he needed things before he even acknowledged them himself. Each night, she let him have a couple hours over the usual end of the work day before she dragged him back to his apartment and they traded off on making dinner.

Originally, she'd tried to argue that it was her job to take care of him, so he really shouldn't be cooking for her.

"Technically, you were off the clock three hours ago," he reminded, stirring the vegetables in the pan. "So call it an olive branch instead of a job condition."

"Why, Dr. Banner, are you trying to befriend me?" she teased, picking up the glass of wine he'd poured for each of them. "Unless this is a seduction tactic," she mused. "Tequila would work better, but I can't say this isn't tastier."

Bruce fumbled, burning his hand on the wok as he moved abruptly, thinking to turn around and correct her.

Darcy was next to him in an instant, her brow knotted in concern. "Are you okay?" She reached for his wrist, turning his hand over to look at it.

Bruce closed his eyes and focused on his breath, but he wasn't sure if he was trying to push the Hulk back because the pain had triggered him to attention or if because having Darcy stand so close was making his heart race. He could smell her perfume; not oceanic like Pepper's, or floral like Betty's, but something between spicy and oriental. Somehow, Darcy smelled both like seduction and home cooking; like an earthy, base musk mixed with fresh apple pie.

His pulse skittered and he took in a deep, desperate breath, trying to focus, to push The Other Guy back.

"I don't think it's too bad," she told him, running her fingers up the inside of his forearm. "I can take over if you want? You can run it under some cold water…"

He shook his head and said through gritted teeth. "Darcy, I need you to step back."

"What? I—" She looked up, paused, and seeing the tension in his body, finally moved away, slowly. "Should I alert JARVIS?"

"No, just… Just give me a second."

He couldn't see her, but he thought she nodded.

"Do you want your whale music?" she wondered.

A smile he just couldn't stop tilted his lips. "No."

"Okay."

A few minutes passed with him focusing on his breath, before finally he felt his muscles relax and The Other Guy recede. When his eyes opened, he found Darcy at the stove, stirring their stir-fry. She looked at him over her shoulder. "Hey."

His brow furrowed. "You stayed," he said.

"Well…" Her eyes dropped for a second before meeting his again. "You didn't tell me to go..."

"No, I…" He swallowed thickly. "Most people… They would run."

Grinning, she waved the spatula, watching briefly as a piece of broccoli was flung to the floor. "I'm not most people," she said.

Looking from her to the broccoli, he nodded. "I've noticed."

She shrugged. "I'm told I grow on people."

Crossing toward her, he took the spatula from her hand and said, "Your Aunt Mary's a wise person."

Darcy rolled her eyes. "I do occasionally talk to people other than my aunt, you know…"

He raised a brow at her. "Was she the one who told you that you grow on people?"

Sheepishly, she turned to look at their food. "Yes, but that's totally not the point."

He chuckled under his breath, giving the stir-fry a look over to make sure it hadn't been burned.

Darcy leaned closer, peering down at his hand. "You want me to kiss it better?"

A flash of heat ran through him and for a second, he considered saying yes.

She looked up at him from the corner of her eyes and grinned. "You make it very easy, Doc." She rubbed her hand over his bicep. "You want your wine?"

Jaw ticking, he looked over at her as she walked back toward the island. "Now who's trying to seduce who?"

She laughed throatily, before picking up their glasses and turning toward him. "A question I'm not sure we'll ever have an answer for." She handed him his glass before taking a sip of hers.

Bruce tipped his glass and gently clinked it with hers. "To olive branches."

Her lips quirked at the corners. "Hear, hear."

Bruce wasn't sure if that night opened the floodgates or if maybe it was inevitable from the moment they met, but something changed. Maybe Darcy had read the intent in his eyes, the desire he felt swirling around him each time she was near, but she went from casually touching him to get a point across to finding a reason to reach out.

Bruce couldn't say he was complaining, although the constant cold showers, meditation, and overwhelming tension he was plagued with would argue that. After all the years he spent avoiding touch, avoiding anything that might somehow become a trigger, it felt good to let his guard down. It felt good to have the heat of a body pressed against him, even if it was through layers of clothing. It was encouraging the way her fingers circled his wrist or brushed his cheek or threaded through his hair; how she used the excuse of tying his tie for him to explore the length of his neck or drag her hands down his chest. How she traced the delicate bones of his wrist while she did up his cuff links, swiping her thumb over his pulse as it climbed with each gentle, lingering touch.

"It's seven," she said against his ear, lips brushing the shell. "I made pasta and stole a bottle of Tony's wine."

Her body was pressed up against his back; he could feel the swell of her breasts just under his shoulder blades. "I'm almost done," he said, his voice sounding thick in his ears.

"'Almost done' in Bruce-speak is at least another hour," she said, standing upright, but dropping her hands to his shoulders to knead at them. "You've got…" She eyed the clock. "Twenty minutes. Not including the elevator ride upstairs." She gave his shoulders one last pat. "After that, I break out the big guns."

He felt disappointment as her hands left him, but it faded as he watched her walk away, smiling at him over his shoulder. He was still staring at the swinging door when she was out of sight.

"You're a lucky man, sir," a voice interrupted his musings.

Bruce turned quickly, gaze falling on a sheepish tech. "What?"

"Sorry, I just…" He flushed bright red and pointed at the door. "You're lucky. Your girlfriend, she's uh, she's beautiful, and—" He shrugged. "She cares."

Bruce looked away for a moment, considered correcting him, and then simply gave a nod. Finally, he stood from his desk. He didn't need the twenty minutes. He shrugged his lab coat off and walked to the door. "Day's over, Mark. You should head home."

"Of course, sir."

"Goodnight." Bruce left, making his way toward the elevator. He was lucky. Whether Darcy was his girlfriend or not didn't matter. He had a beautiful woman in his apartment that he very much wanted to spend some time with.

Dinner often led to watching a movie. Or, after Darcy forced him to watch Dirty Dancing, doing things Bruce didn't general think he would normally do. Like practicing the lift over his head where Darcy ran at him and he caught her, acting as the Johnny to her Baby.

"Just channel some of your Hulk strength," she told him, standing at one end of his apartment, having moved furniture well out of the way.

Unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling the sleeves of his shirt up his arms, Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Darcy, you don't weigh very much."

"These are not filled with air," she said, cupping her boobs in her hands for emphasis. "I'm not going to go insecure on you here, Doc, but I'm not light either."

He motioned with his hand for him to come at him. "I'll catch you."

She quirked her head. "Fine. But just in case you go a little green, I'm apologizing now."

He smirked. "Not sorry enough not to risk it though, are you?"

She grinned. "No."

With a chuckle, he shook his head. "Come on."

She started running, giving a shriek as she leapt up into the air.

Bruce caught her and managed to hold her up over his head, even turning in a circle so she could get the whole effect.

Darcy laughed brightly before finally letting her legs and arms drop. He put her back down on her feet and grinned at her. Unexpectedly, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him, pressing her whole body up against his, one of her legs even hitched around his, the backs of their ankles touching.

"I've always wanted to do that!" she told him breathlessly.

"Y-Yeah," he managed, his hands tentatively falling to her hips.

Turning her head, she kissed the space just under his ear. "Thank you."

She pulled back easily and tucked her hair behind her ears. "So how do you feel about Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights?" She raised a brow. "It's nowhere near as good, but you know how I feel about sequels!" Her mouth twisted as she bobbed her head side to side. "And/or remakes."

Bruce swallowed thickly, trying to shake off the feel of her lips on his skin. "If it's got a sequel, it's mandatory watching," he quoted.

She pointed at him before twirling on the tips of her toes and walking back to his couch. "You in?"

"Do I really have a choice?" he quipped, rubbing the back of his neck as he joined her on the couch.

She raised a brow before turning and pressing herself into his side, resting her head on his shoulder as she directed the controller at the TV. "Honestly? No."

Bruce gave a nod before wrapping his arm around her and trying to relax.

There were days this woman made him question his sanity, and yet others still that made him wonder how he was going to cope without her.

Sincerely, she wasn't just his personal assistant or the woman he carried a well of untouched feelings for, but she was also his friend. Somewhat like Tony, she prodded him to accept himself, green alter-ego and all, but there was a twist of Darcy to it. She wanted him to share all of himself; from terrible childhood to gamma-ray mishap to tragic romance to going on the run to finally finding his place with the Avengers. She called it 'story time' and she'd drag one of his feet up into her lap as she sat at her end of his couch, putting one of her feet in his lap for him to rub equally, and then she'd encourage him to tell her something about himself.

It took him awhile to talk about Betty, and even longer to touch on his father, but eventually, he felt like he'd shared everything he could about himself. Everything that defined him leading up to his life as it was. There were little things in between, he obviously couldn't recite his life second to second. But the big stuff, the people who made a difference, good or bad, he shared that.

And Darcy, in return, shared her story.

Her mother Ellen wasn't always an alcoholic. Growing up, Darcy said she was a really good mom; the kind that always made time for her daughter. But scraping by became too hard and she took on a second job and then that job doubled her stress and before she knew it, she was drinking too much to numb out everything, including Darcy.

So her aunt stepped in, a self-proclaimed psychic with a knack for figuring people out enough, at the very least, to make a quick buck. Mary Lewis was a flighty, flower-child that Darcy said was sharper than most people gave her credit for. And she never once turned her back on her niece, instead raising her in Ellen's stead, picking her up from school, feeding her, teaching her to read tarot cards and cook elaborate meals.

Mary and Ellen's mother had passed away before Darcy was born, and their father had died when Darcy was so young she didn't remember her grandfather. Darcy's father had never been in the picture, or so her mother had always told her. Occasionally, Mary would comment that he tried or he wanted to but Ellen was too stubborn and never let him.

"Sometimes I wonder if I get my indecision for what major I wanted in college from my aunt. I mean, yeah, it's not like, hereditary…" She paused. "Wait, is it?"

He chuckled. "No. I'm sure it can be taught, or learned just from observation, but I don't think you're born being indecisive."

Darcy shrugged. "Well, whichever… All I know is I went through two different majors before poli-sci stuck." She shook her head. "And even then, I wound up in the desert interning for the wrong kind of science."

"Maybe it wasn't wrong… Look at where it took you." He motioned around him. "Like you said when you met me, you work for an Avenger; it's not something to be scoffed at."

She smiled, turning her head to stare at him, before giving his foot a squeeze. "So the rainbow bridge was a blessing in disguise for me then…" She nodded. "Okay."

"Indecision cured."

She bit her lip. "I don't know about that…" She leaned back against the arm of the couch and pressed her thumb into the arch of his foot, twisting it side to side as she worked the muscles there. "Wendy's going on maternity leave in three weeks… Her paperwork cleared."

Bruce paused, his fingers wrapped around her big toe while his other hand was cupping her heel. "And Coulson…?"

"He left a stack of files on my desk; he said it's my choice who to employ to replace me… He wants me to start with Wendy the week before she leaves so I can get a better handle on her job."

He nodded, staring down at her foot, at the chipped neon green nail polish. "So we've got two weeks…"

"Considering you didn't think I'd be able to cut it, I think we've done pretty good, don't you?" She wiggled her toes. "And besides, we can still hang out… Have dinner, watch movies… I just won't be the person forcing you to eat or changing your IV bag."

He rolled his eyes. "I hardly need a saline drip."

"I'm just saying… Dehydration; it's a thing."

He snorted, but refused to look at her, instead focusing on her foot as he continued to massage it.

"Hey," she said, reaching out to squeeze his ankle, her fingers brushing the dark hair of his leg.

He looked up, more in surprise that her hand was on his leg, under his pants, than anything.

"Bruce… you and me…" She shook her head. "We don't have to change." She stared at him searchingly. "I don't want us to. I—I like what we have here."

His eyes fell. And wasn't that a little bit of the problem? Because what they had…? It was great. He'd never felt closer to anybody before. Darcy, in just a couple short weeks, had bulldozed his walls and inserted herself in his life. But he wanted more than just a friend. As much as a part of him screamed that he shouldn't, that distance was smarter, safer, a whole other part just wanted to be with her. Really be with her.

"Yeah," he said, before forcing a smile. "Didn't you pick out a movie for tonight?" he asked.

She stared at him a long moment, before smirking. "It's horror-movie-Friday, Dr. Banner, prepare to lose your shit."

Given the horrors he'd seen in his life, Bruce merely raised an eyebrow.

Eyes narrowed, she told him, "Challenge accepted."

Denial played a fairly big part in Bruce's life.

That he didn't have the same rage his father had in him, causing him to be abusive to both Bruce and his mother.

That he could be normal after the gamma radiation had gotten to him, infiltrating his life and forcing him away from Betty.

That maybe he and Betty could still make it work.

That he could somehow control The Other Guy.

That he wasn't an Avenger and didn't fit in with their rag-tag group of time-bombs.

But eventually, denial had a way of slapping a person in the face with the truth.

He did have rage in him; it simmered so deeply that it was ingrained in him. His abuse manifested differently, however; it was all encompassing, casting a blind eye on any thing or person who stood before him.

Life would never be the same before he was exposed to gamma radiation; he would never be the same man he was or go on to do the things he'd done or wanted for himself. There were aspects that he'd regained since joining SHIELD, but there was no way to truly go back.

He and Betty were well and truly over, and truth be told, Bruce thought it was for the best. She deserved better and after all that had happened between them, he wanted her to have it. He didn't want her to look at him as the man he was before he found a center, what limited control he had. And now, knowing that she was married and happy, he couldn't say it was the wrong thing or that he wished it was different.

He would never full have control over the Hulk. But he was gaining enough that he could live and not regret it. That he could tamp down some of that fear and pain and recognize there was something good that could come out of it.

The Avengers, for all their flaws, were possibly the best team he could ever find himself on. The personalities of each individual didn't always work together; there were far too many egos in one group; but there was a collective mentality of wanting to save the world there, and he thought maybe that was really all they needed. A desire to do good.

Now he was faced with the denial of wanting Darcy. Wanting more from her than much of him thought he was capable or deserving of. Darcy, taking after her aunt, was a free spirit. She was untethered, throwing caution to the wind in the simplest of things. She took working for a man with a questionable history of becoming a green rage monster whenever he was excited or angry and just rolled with it. She met an alien God that fell from the sky and tasered him when he freaked her out. She made it her mission in life to be exactly who she was. If that was wearing Star Wars shirts to work while drinking a Big Gulp full of straight black coffee, then that's exactly what she did. If it meant dragging Jane out of her lab for some impromptu club dancing until three in the morning before returning to Avengers tower and sleeping off her hangover, then she did just that.

Darcy was young and beautiful and full of life, relatively scarred by her mother's lackluster parenting, but otherwise loved and adored by her aunt. She had her ups and downs and she occasionally talked about how she wished she just knew her dad's name, that was it. She was smart, if occasionally easily distracted, and she had a tendency to mother people if she thought they weren't taking care of themselves.

She was always there when he needed her and readily offered herself up for anything and everything.

She was impetuous, loud, stubborn, sarcastic, and above all else, loving.

From Jane, her scientist best friend who subsisted on coffee and poptarts, to Thor, the God who was constantly surprised by what Midgard had to offer, to her aunt, who regularly called to talk about work or what bizarre dream/vision she had, to her mother who made frequent drunk calls to complain about her life and about Darcy and everything in between, all the way to Bruce… Bruce who she spent so much of her time with, learning every aspect of who he was in between making sure he ate and slept.

Bruce, who was fairly sure he was in love with her.

But denial, a constant companion of his, argued that he was just starved for human connection and anyone would do.

That might have worked if The Other Guy hadn't intervened to show him different.

[Next: Part II.]

Author's Note: This story will eventually be NC-17, upon that time I will either redirect you to read the rest on LiveJournal or AO3, or I will simply cut the smut from the chapter and post it, because FFnet has strict rules on how 'explicit' fic can be on here. Not something I agree with personally, which is why many of my stories, if they're NC-17, just get posted on AO3 or LJ, both of which you can find me on under sarcastic_fina. I did want to share this one though, so when it gets to that point, we'll figure it out, yeah? Enjoy!