"Quit!" Bruce hissed, snatching his drink from Tony's grasp.

From behind them, Natasha rolled her eyes at the two scientists. For the last fifteen minutes of Fury's already-hour-long meeting, Tony had been leaning over and grabbing random possessions of Bruce, and the doctor had to keep snatching them back before Tony could abuse them. Such as taking a sip out of his drink.

Turning to Steve, who sat next to her, she gave him a knowing look. Whether either boy knew it or not, they were flirting with each other. But, everyone else certainly noticed it.

As Bruce's drink joined the other objects Tony had tried taking—most of them possessions Tony had bought him the day after they all moved into Stark Towers, but still Bruce's—on the opposite side of the table, Tony leaned over, grabbing his iPhone and beginning to fiddle around with it.

Swatting at the playboy's hand, he snapped, "Hands off, Tony."

Natasha couldn't help but smirk as Steve let out a good-natured shhhh, trying to keep the "couple" from attracting too much attention. He turned back to her, unable to hide the grin. Even though he had been the last to find out—and was also from the forties, where homosexuality was strictly forbidden—he had been surprisingly excited when Natasha explained the attraction of the two scientists. She could have even called him giddy.

Maybe he was too into the whole "true love" thing to care about sexuality.

Her phone vibrated on her lap—making a purring sound as it rubbed against the fabric of her pants—and she turned it on, seeing it was a text from Clint. Can you please get the married couple to quit flirting; they're distracting me from my observing. She smiled, glancing up at where he sat, high above and out of sight. He gave her a look, but all she sent in reply was a smiley face.

Her attention was now on Tony and Bruce again. Apparently in the time she had been reading Clint's text, Bruce had retrieved his phone, but then lost the notebook, which Tony was now doodling on and refusing to give up, no matter how often the curly-haired doctor snatched at his pen. But, Bruce was smiling. And, when Tony turned his head to finally return the notebook—which had an amusing, crappy caricature of Fury preaching about the importance of not doing S.H.I.E.L.D. missions alone unless specified—there was a peaceful—if not mischievous—grin on his face.

It was all she could do to not abandon her stiff ways and let out a squeal of delight.

Before Bruce could even set the notebook and pen on the table, his keys to his room and lab were in Tony's hand, and then suddenly spinning around an orange, number two pencil. Letting out a loud jingling noise, it stopped Fury mid-sentence, who—in return—gave Tony a death glare. Bruce shrank down in his seat as multiple people turned to look at them, but Natasha imagined that Tony was grinning from ear to ear about pissing Fury off.

Typical.

"Drop it," she heard Bruce murmur and Tony obediently passed back the keys. Setting them back on the table, Bruce dropped his hand down, still embarrassed by the attention; Natasha could see the red on the back of his neck.

As soon as he had settled into his seat, Tony's hand was on the move again. But this time, his hand went further south, gripping Bruce's and intertwining their fingers together.

And, much to her amazement, the hand was the only thing Bruce allowed Tony to take.

Mouthing, "Awwww," at Steve, she grinned as the boys continued holding hands, Bruce's neck growing redder by the second. The Captain was beaming as well, glad that something finally happened.

There was another purring sound from her lap, and she turned on the screen.

Oh my god, are they holding hands?! Please tell me they're not! I might gag!

It took a second to click the two keys and hit send.

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