Author's Note: Hi, guys! Long time no see! I've been working on this one for quite a while now... After this, I'm probably going to take a break from writing this story, in order to work on a few others. But don't worry, I will be coming back to this at some point, to honor all of the lovely and wonderful and amazing suggestions you guys have been giving me. Seriously, they're brilliant! And also don't worry, because I'm leaving you off with a good one.

I had to bump up the rating to M for this chapter. So there's that. Also, in regard to timeline: this one is pretty early on, only about a week or so after Sága returned to earth. I believe this even puts it before the events of the epilogue of the other story.

Also (and this, as well as the rest of the chapter, contains a spoiler if you still haven't seen the movie...in which case, how are you a thing that exists?), I should point out that this episode refers to Coulson's death. I for one adamantly believe that Coulson survived. But, at the time of this particular episode, the Avengers have not yet been made aware of that fact.

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this! Thanks for reading!

Edit: I was not content with the adult ending to this chapter (and, from the lack of reviews, I kinda figured that you guys weren't too impressed, either). So I changed it and hopefully made it better. If nothing else, I feel way better about this revision. If adult content isn't your thing, feel free to just skip that part. You won't be missing much, if any, of the plot. Just stop reading after Bruce asks, "Next?" and there's a double horizontal line.

Episode Three: Need

Sága stood fuming, arms crossed tightly over her chest, glaring down at the small fire at her feet, when the robot called Dummy came screeching out of the elevator to extinguish the flames. An annoyed Tony Stark stepped out of the elevator behind it, followed closely by an amused Bruce.

"Sága! You gotta stop lighting my stuff on fire!" Tony reprimanded, gesturing wildly.

"It was not cooperating," she snapped. Tony shoved Dummy out of the way, trying to salvage the thin glass screen that allowed her to interact with Jarvis' systems. It was likely irreparable.

Tony opened and closed his mouth in disbelief, looking for something to say, before turning to Bruce. "Ah! Girlfriend! Do something!"

Bruce rubbed the back of his neck, clearly trying not to laugh. With great difficulty. "Okay, yeah, so Sága… I get that this is difficult for you. But y-you can't keep lighting stuff on fire because it's difficult. Okay?"

She frowned. "I did not mean to," she murmured, sheepish.

"I know, sweetie," he acknowledged, stepping forward and kissing her cheek, "I know."

"Hey! Hey! Don't take her side!" Tony pouted.

"Uh, girlfriend, remember?" Bruce walked off toward the mini kitchen. "I wash my hands of this whole thing."

Tony sighed heavily, as if this was the most difficult thing he'd ever done. "Alright. Let's go over this again, shall we?" He dumped the used screen into the trash, sliding another out of the counter. "Show me what you did this time."

She heaved a sigh as well, accepting this new screen. She jabbed it viciously, trying to get something—anything—to work. "I do everything you've told me, but it just won't work!"

He snatched it out of her hands. "Okay, okay, I think I get it now. Look, just don't touch it so hard, okay? Like this." He demonstrated, touching the screen lightly. "You gotta be gentle."

Her frown deepened. "I am the daughter of Heimdall," she reminded sharply. "I am about as gentle as Tyr is amiable."

"Right, okay. I'll just go ahead and assume I'm not gonna get that comparison. Look, just… I know! Treat it like Bruce!"

"I beg your pardon?"

From the stove where he was brewing tea, Bruce called, "I wash my hands of this, Tony!"

"No, seriously. God, I can't believe I'm saying this, but you don't…touch him like that, right? I assume you're gentle with him, right?"

She narrowed her eyes, considering. "I suppose your words make sense." She accepted the screen from him, running her fingers over the screen lightly, her eyes brightening when she saw how responsive it now was.

Tony smirked. "There ya go… So no more fires now, right?"

"I can make no guarantees. But I will try to restrain myself," she assured.

"Eh, I'll take what I can get. Alright, Banner, break's over. Time to do science!" he exclaimed, practically prancing back to the elevator.

Bruce followed him with much less fervor, cradling his tea with both hands. He kissed Sága's cheek as he passed. "Work, work, work," he murmured with a wink, stepping into the elevator.

"You shouldn't be up here," Sága said with a sigh, holding out a steaming mug of coffee to Clint Barton. She had not meant to sneak up on him, but his shoulders tensed a fraction in surprise at the sound of her voice. To his credit he hid it well.

"I didn't see your name on the door," he shot, with more bite than she had been anticipating, before taking the mug from her hands.

She snatched the transparent video interface from the counter in front of him, easing herself into one of the gaudy, worn armchairs scattered about the room. "You know what I mean. You are always welcome here…but that doesn't mean you should be." With a raised brow, she indicated the sheet of glass in her hand.

He shrugged. "I don't know what you mean. I just came here for the view. Best seat in the house, y'know."

"It is, isn't it?" She gazed fondly around the room Tony had designed for her, a glass dome at the very top of the Avengers Tower, furnished with cozy loveseats that faced all directions. From here, she could see the entire world, and all the nine realms. "But you need not lie to me, Barton." Gently, as Tony had taught her, she ran her fingers over the screen, pulling up the video feed he had been viewing before she walked in. As expected, it was from that fateful morning on the Helicarrier, the attack he had led to release Loki and scatter the mighty Avengers. "This is not a path you want to take; certainly not in solitude."

He scowled and avoided her gaze, slumping down into the chair across from her and taking a long swallow of coffee. "I needed to know. I can't expect you to understand that."

She laughed bitterly, sliding the screen back into the receptacle beside her chair. "A thousand years old, and you think I don't understand feeling guilt? Honey, I'm dating Bruce Banner."

A corner of his mouth tipped up in a smirk, but he still refused to look at her. "It's different. I worked with them. They were my friends."

She tucked her legs beneath her with a sigh. "Did you, by any chance, watch the footage of the death of Agent Coulson?"

"First one I saw."

"Yeah… I've seen it, too." This time he visibly jumped, startled by her voice, and whirled to find her perched on the armrest of his chair. "I taught Loki how to do that. 'Rabbiting', Coulson called it. If I hadn't taught him that… Phil Coulson might still be alive. Can you imagine that? The man who still believed in heroes, dead because of a magic trick I taught my best friend a few hundred years ago? And, yeah, maybe his death helped convince the Avengers to assemble, and maybe if they hadn't had the push, we mightn't have won…but because of it, the only friends I've ever really had on this entire planet lost someone they deeply cared about and greatly admired."

She stood, and strode over to one of the great windows that walled in her lookout tower, resting a shoulder and her forehead against the cool pane of glass. To the west, the sun was setting below this horizon, painting the sky in a myriad of colors. "I'm not trying to demean what you're feeling, and I'm not saying you shouldn't deal with what's happened. But trust me; you don't want to do it alone."

She glanced over her shoulder at him, but he was still glaring moodily into his coffee. "You should talk to Bruce sometime. He's a great listener, and I think he would understand better than most."

Clint nodded his head slowly. "Yeah…I might just do that."

"Good." She gave him a moment to collect his thoughts, before stepping away from the window with a grin. "Anyway, that's not why I came to see you." She plopped back into the chair she had vacated, leaning forward intently with a mischievous gleam in her eye.

Clint eyed her warily, gulping down his coffee before taking the bait. "Yeah? What can I do for ya?"

If possible, her grin widened. "I need to speak with Hulk. Do you want to help me blow something up?"

"Remind me why we're doing this?" Clint murmured.

Sága didn't look up from the screen in front of her. Jarvis had delivered the message that Bruce was needed in the basement—they thought it would be best if he were as close to the Hulk-proof room as possible when he changed—and he was almost here. "I was absent for three months. And during that time, I heard every word he said. He pretends that everything is fine, but I know it's not. I know how much I hurt him…"

"So, what? You wanna apologize to the big guy?"

She chewed on her bottom lip. "I'm not sure what I want from this. Maybe I won't feel so guilty if I let him hit me a few times…"

"Hit you? Hey, wait, that wasn't part of the—"

"He's here!" she hissed, cutting him off.

Bruce stepped around the corner, hands in his pockets, looking mildly confused. "Hello? Sága, are you down here? Hey, what—?" He whirled as the arrow went whizzing past, embedding itself in the wall behind him. He turned back around to look in the direction the arrow had come from, the expression on his face both annoyed and slightly betrayed. "Clint—" he warned, but then the arrow blew, knocking Bruce clean off his feet.

Sága was already halfway to him when Hulk lurched to his feet with a roar that shook the corridor. She skidded to a stop before him, holding her hands up in a sign of surrender. "Hulk! Hulk, I'm so sorry we had to scare you, but I needed to see you!"

Hulk bared his teeth and growled lowly, his shoulders tensing, leaning in close enough that she could feel his hot breath on her face. "Sága NOT need Hulk."

His huge fist grabbed her roughly around the waist, effortlessly lifting her off the ground, and then he turned and bolted down the corridor to his room. He tossed her inside as though she was a rag doll, and she bounced off the ground twice before sliding to a stop with a groan. When she finally managed to pry her head up and look around, the door was sealing shut with a hiss, and Hulk was crouching in front of her, pressing his fists into the ground and breathing heavily.

"Hulk, I'm sorr—" He grabbed her legs and flung her across the room. She crashed face-first into the wall, crumpling to the ground. "…Ow."

"Sága not need Hulk!" He grabbed her again, lifting her and crushing her back against the wall, her feet hanging far above the floor. "Sága lie," he growled.

"No!" she gasped. She was not nearly as indestructible as Thor and Loki, though her magic worked to heal her when she was injured. She could feel it now, buzzing in her chest, reinforcing the ribs that threatened to shatter beneath his strength. "No, Hulk, I do need you!"

He pulled her from the wall, just to slam her back into it even harder. Her vision swam, a blur of green as he leaned in close. "Don't lie to me."

This whisper was worse than anything he'd yet said or done. His eyes flashed brown, for just half a second, and she stopped caring about the pain or the fear; she had to make this right, no matter what. "It's not a lie, Hulk. I need you!"

He roared, turning and smashing her into the ground. She cried out at the pain. "Don't lie to me!" He panted heavily, watching her as she gasped for breath. "Sága leave. Sága not come back."

"But I did come back, Hulk," she spat out between breaths. "You can see; I'm here now. And I'm not going anywhere." He growled again, rolling his shoulders as he considered her words. "You know me, Hulk. You know what I can do, that I could leave this room whenever I wanted. But I'm not, I'm staying with you."

His brow lowered as he bent and picked her up again, this time a little less roughly. He squeezed her around the middle until she cried out, and then immediately relaxed his grip. He leaned in close, confused. "Why Sága not leave?"

She took a deep breath, her magic spreading out from her chest and through all of her limbs. "Because I need you to know that I'm never going to again. And this is the only way I can think to prove that to you. No matter what you do to me, I won't leave."

The overhead speaker sparked to life, Tony Stark's voice echoing through the room. "Sága, this is crazy! Open the door; he'll kill you!"

"Jarvis, keep that door sealed!" she gasped, "He won't kill me!" Hurt her, perhaps; but not kill.

Clint and Tony cursed in the background, while Jarvis apologized, "I'm sorry, sir. It seems she has overridden your controls."

Hulk ignored all of this, squinting his eyes at her, considering her words. "Sága hurt Bruce, hurt Hulk."

She nodded softly. "I know. I didn't want to."

He released her from his grip, setting her down softly. Even so, her legs gave out beneath her, and she found herself sprawling on the floor in a moment.

"Hulk not want hurt Sága," he told her, as quietly as he could, his voice sounding more like Bruce's than she'd ever heard it.

"I didn't want to hurt you, either," she repeated, reaching a hand up to him. Hesitantly, he reached out and placed a single finger in the palm of her hand, pressing against her skin.

"Everyone leave Bruce, hurt Bruce. Hulk not let anyone hurt Bruce."

She nodded. "I know. You take care of him, don't you?" He nodded his head quickly with a snort. "Thank you."

The ground shook as Hulk seated himself beside her. He grabbed her again, but this time much more gently, and pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her. "Hulk not want hurt Sága," he repeated, poking her softly, indicating the light that danced along her skin where he had grabbed her and squeezed.

"I know you didn't. It's alright, I can take it." She took a deep, ragged breath, holding up a glowing hand. The pain was nearly gone now, leaving her with the strange discomfort of her bones realigning, her muscles knitting themselves back together. "See? I'm already healing myself."

His arms tightened around her, pulling her closer to his chest. "Sága be alright?"

She grinned. "Yeah, Hulk. I'll be alright." His chest rumbled, something like a growl, but softer, almost a purr. She chuckled, pressing her forehead against his chest. "I'm sorry I left," she murmured against his hot skin. "I should have stayed. I thought it was my duty, my responsibility. Maybe it was…but I wish I had stayed with you."

He purred again, resting his heavy chin on top of her head. They sat in silence for several minutes, Hulk's breaths growing steady and even. She wondered if he were about to shrink into Bruce, now that he was relaxed and there was no immediate danger. But their peace was abruptly disturbed by the door sliding open, Iron Man darting through with Hawkeye tumbling in behind him, bow drawn. Hulk roared at them, lurching to his feet, jostling Sága enough to make her hiss in pain, but he did not release her from his arms.

"No, stop! Look, it's alright! I'm alright!" she called, hoping to diffuse the situation before it got started. Stark flew too close, and Hulk roared again, turning his body so as to shield her from him. "No, stop!" she called again.

Tony drifted to the floor, and Barton lowered his bow. "You sure you're okay, Sága?" Clint called.

"Yes, I'm sure! We're all okay. At least we were, until you two barged in here like that and scared us!"

"Hey, somebody had to use sense," Stark shot, jabbing an accusing finger in her direction, "seeing as you're too busy putting yourself at risk!"

Hulk growled lowly, threateningly. "Hulk not hurt Sága! Hulk keep Sága safe!"

"Okay, yeah, we see that now, big guy," Stark admitted. "You just had us worried for a minute."

Hulk growled again, and Clint raised his hands in surrender. "It's cool, we're going. We'll just…leave you two alone, yeah?"

Iron Man nodded, backing out the door as well. "Yeah, sure. We're going."

Hulk watched them leave, and didn't relax until the door had sealed shut again. Then he sat again, resting his chin back on top of her head. She grinned and kissed his chest, feeling it rumble beneath her as he purred again.

"You're going to keep me safe, too?"

Another purr. "Hulk not let anyone hurt Sága."

Eventually, he relaxed enough to shrink down into a sleeping Bruce, and she was able to bring him back to their room. She removed what remained of his pants—he wore nothing underneath, not that she would ever complain about that—and tucked him into bed. Then she stood and headed to the bathroom to assess the damage, leaving the door open in case Bruce woke up.

There were a number of minor cuts, and a particularly nasty scrape still present on her cheek. She was trying to focus on that one, her hands glowing white when she heard his voice calling, "…Sága?" She shook the magic from her hands and hoped it had healed enough for him not to notice, and headed in to the bedroom.

He was sitting up now, the blankets pooling at his waist, staring at his hands in his lap. He looked sad, and lost, and betrayed. Her only other major relationship had been with Loki, a relationship centered on manipulation and desire; any argument or disagreement had been easily kissed away and ignored. But this was Bruce; and no matter how delectable he looked, with his hair tousled and his skin glistening with sweat, naked under those sheets, she knew this wasn't something she could kiss away.

She sat down on the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry we scared you."

He sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "That was a stupid thing to do."

"You weren't being honest with me."

He looked at her from between his fingers. "I could have killed you."

"Oh, not you too," she groaned, rolling her eyes.

"This isn't a joke, Sága! You could have been seriously injured. Or worse."

"But I wasn't. Hey, look at me!" She placed a hand on his cheek, turning him to face her. "Yeah, you're strong. Stronger than anything I've ever seen. And you could have really hurt me, but you didn't."

This was the wrong thing to do, as it drew his attention to the still-healing scrape on her cheek. She tried to shrink back from him, but he caught her, squinting his eyes, running his thumb over the scrape. "What's this?" he whispered.

She couldn't meet his eyes. "It's nothing. My healing magic is…imprecise. Big injuries, such as broken bones and wide cuts, can be healed without problem. Minor cuts and scrapes are much more difficult for me."

When she managed to look up at him, his eyes were wide. "B-broken bones?"

"I'm just speaking generally," she hurried to assure him, "I was not saying that you actually broke any bones."

"But I did hurt you." It wasn't a question.

She sighed. "You tossed me around a bit—but it was nothing I couldn't handle!"

He buried his face in his hands. "Sága, you can't do that again. You don't understand the sort of risk—"

"Do not tell me what I can and cannot do," she snapped, bristling. "And there was no risk. You and Hulk are the same person, no matter how vehemently you deny it. And you would never hurt me, so it stands to reason that neither would he."

"But I did hurt you!"

"Because I hurt you!" She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She did not want to argue with him; but he had to understand. "I hurt you. And it was a problem that you tried to ignore, and likely would have continued to ignore until Hulk next made an appearance. At least this way, it happened on my terms, in a controlled environment."

"So this was, what? An experiment?"

"No, of course not, Bruce! I just… I needed to see how you really felt about my absence."

"And you couldn't have just asked me?"

She smirked, glancing up at him. "Would you have told me the truth? That it hurt you, because you thought I'd left, just like everyone else has left you? That it made you angry enough to want to throw me across a room?"

He ran a hand through his hair, eventually releasing a short, low, breathy chuckle. "No, I probably wouldn't have said that."

She leaned in close to him, and then hesitated to see if he would pull away. When he didn't, she kissed him. "I'm so sorry that I was gone from you for so long. It was the worst thing I've ever experienced; worse than when my mother died; much worse than the year I had my voice and magic taken away, and thought that Loki was dead. I wish never to experience that again. I plan to be with you for as long as you'll have me. I will not leave you…but I need you to be honest with me. Even if it's something you think I won't want to hear."

He took a fist of her hair, making her look him in the eye. "You have to promise me that you'll never make me change again." His voice was desperate, almost pleading. "I can deal with the others; they can have their pranks, or whatever. But not…not you, okay? I can't have you do that."

"I promise. Never again."

Finally, his crooked smile made an appearance. He relaxed his fist, running his fingers through her hair, and kissed her. When he pulled away, he ran the pad of his thumb over her cheek. "Now…let me see these cuts and scrapes."

She slid off the bed and stood, pulling off her shirt and shimmying out of her jeans (neither of which had fared particularly well against the Hulk), pretending not to notice the way his eyes darkened, drinking her in. She couldn't fight the grin that spread across her face when she climbed into bed beside him and he pulled her close.

"You're going to have to point them out to me," he told her with a sheepish grin. "I assume my glasses are..?"

She laughed. "Sorry, they couldn't be salvaged." She pointed to her shoulder, which had taken the brunt of it when she skidded along the floor. "The worst one, I think, is here…" She froze, momentarily forgetting how to breathe when he leaned forward and placed his lips against her shoulder. She wasn't sure what she'd been expecting, but that wasn't it.

He pulled away with a self-satisfied smirk. "Next?"

She continued pointing out the small cuts that peppered her skin, which quickly dissolved into him kissing wherever he wanted as she giggled. But then he kissed the inside of her thigh and her laugh was strangled off by a moan.

She gripped him by the shoulders, digging her fingertips in to his skin, careful not to scratch him. He had sheepishly warned her during their first time together not to scratch him or break the skin—even the smallest drop of blood could trigger an appearance from Hulk. So she kept her nails trimmed short, and tried to be careful with him.

Bruce ran his tongue along her clit and she whimpered; he slid two fingers inside, curling them just so, and her whole body shuddered. And with a combination of the two, he quickly had her writhing and squirming beneath him. He was good at this, entirely too good at this.

He pulled his mouth away for a moment, just long enough to lay his cheek against her thigh and murmur, "Oh, Saga…" And then his tongue was on her again, and she came with a surprised gasp, convulsing around his fingers.

She could feel the smirk on his lips as he kissed his way up her body, but she was entirely too well satisfied to be annoyed by his smugness. When he made it to her mouth, she grabbed fistfuls of his hair and tugged gently, so she could look him in the eye. "I need you inside me now."

He crushed his lips against hers and thrust up inside her, burying himself deeply and pulling out and plunging even deeper. She needed him five minutes ago, needed him right now, needed him hard and fast and oh, yes, just like that! He was entirely too good at this…

He cupped her breasts with his big, warm hands and squeezed, rubbing his thumbs over her nipples, making her arch her back and press into him. And then his hands slid up and over her breasts until he was grasping her shoulders. He stilled himself inside her and pushed her back down onto the bed, breaking their kiss abruptly, leaving her with wide, confused eyes and an open, panting mouth. Had she done something wrong?

His hands began to slide again, along her shoulders and collar and up her neck, until he was gently caressing her cheeks. "I need to hear you," he breathed.

His hips began to move again, and his mouth and tongue explored her breasts and shoulders and neck, his teeth gliding over her skin.

She moaned and murmured and whimpered beneath him, calling his name over and over again. She tangled her fingers in his hair and wrapped her legs around his waist, crying out at this new angle. He gave a number of short, quick, erratic thrusts before burying himself as deeply as he could. She opened her mouth wide, too breathless to moan, pleasure and magic pouring out of her mouth in waves. He came with a low, guttural groan, her body clenching around him.

He collapsed on top of her, completely spent, panting for breath. She unwound her legs from around his waist and her fingers from his hair, running her hands up and down his back as he breathed against her skin. One of her hands travelled even lower and she gave his firm butt a squeeze, causing him to roll off and out of her with a breathy chuckle.

He laid on his side, just staring at her, and she met his gaze with a lazy and contented smile. "Oh, my God…"

Her smile broadened into a wicked grin. "Yes, darling?"