𝑯𝑬𝒀 𝑨𝑴𝑬𝑹𝑰𝑪𝑨 | in which a normal, dreary, woman has greatness thrust upon her, and with it an instructor who is not a perfect soldier but a good man.
Join Quinn, a lowly I.T. at S.H.I.E.L.D., as her already chaotic domestic life gets throw...
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DESPERATE TIMES CALLED for desperate measures and unfortunately, she was the desperate measure. Nine hours she had spent curled over a keyboard, sifting through the code of what Tony had mentioned as JARVIS and implementing it into the cradle's system. She was irritated. This could've been done by anyone but Tony decided to cash in her IOU to help create the newest edition in the apocalypse.
She was exhausted, she could tell her eyes were red from straining to look at the code that they had made together. Nothing could go wrong. Nothing could mess up or else the world would have two sentient beings hellbent on the extinction of human life. She blinked a couple of times before rubbing her eyes, trying to make them less sore. A pair of glasses slid towards her and she looked up to see Tony passing her, pen behind his ear and holographic computer screen following his movements. He was preoccupied with running the diagnostic of the whole system, building the cradle to create a body that would help save the world. It was reminiscent of his father helping build up Steve's body to save the world. It felt poetic. Like the lineage held the world together.
He and January were sure to have their hands full if they ever considered having children. For some reason, she couldn't foresee that any time soon, if at all. She thanked him as he passed and he grunted something out, it wasn't intelligible, just a sound but she knew that it was a "you're welcome" in a way. She looked over to peek at what Bruce was working on but his eyes shifted from Tony to her as Tony mumbled to Quinn.
He gave her a bashful grin as if he had been caught staring for too long. She didn't mind, she knew that it wasn't healthy to be staring at a screen for too long. She was suffering from the after-effects of it. "Sorry," he mumbled, petting Rudolph's head as the dog jumped up against the table he was working at, his big paws barely grazing the keyboard he was working on. "It's okay." she shrugged off in a friendly manner, watching as Bruce ruffled the fur around Rudolph's face while making a sort of cooing sound at him.
She smiled at how comforted he felt around her dog, and how natural Rudolph was to go to him as if he knew he was in distress. If she squinted hard enough she could think that Rudolph was smart enough to gauge when someone was in a tizzy, like a certified therapy companion. However, she just knew that he was a fiend when it came to free pets, oftentimes pawing at her arm and forcing her to pet his fluffy chest.
"If I remember correctly, January said there's a dog that's like your therapy dog?" she says in an unsure tone, trying to make an attempt to speak with the renowned Dr. Banner. It wasn't every day she got to converse with a scholar so highly regarded as him. If anything, she was a bit frazzled just being near him. She admired his work. Not the work in which he tried to replicate the super soldier serum and turned him into rage personified. But his theory on how lysosomal storage could help cure Alzheimer's rather than looking towards plaques and tangles was eye-opening to her.
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Bruce gave her a small, yet warm smile. "Shadow. He's not mine. He's Claire's dog. She got him registered to help make people feel more comfortable during their sessions." he recalls, smoothing down the top of Rudolph's fur on top of his head. He did it so intricately that she thought he might be styling it in a certain way. He looks at her through his dark curls. "It helps." he chides with a nod. She gives him a soft yet exhausted laugh, her eyes darting back to her screen as she types. "Don't I know it. With the things I talk to Rudolph about, I'm surprised he hasn't run away yet." she rambles, thinking that she was stupid to even bring that up, that he'd run for the hills, and think she's weird for even mentioning the last part. But it was true. Rudolph was her most trusted confidant. She could confide in him with anything and he wouldn't tell a soul. Because he couldn't even if he wanted to.
"Ah, he's got a happy home between you and Steve. Never seen a dog more spoiled." he compliments, perking up her interest by mentioning her lover's name. "Does Steve dote on him often?" she questions, peering around her screen at the brilliant scientist. Bruce lets out a breathless laugh as he shakes his head, focusing more on his task than Rudolph (who whined in protest). "That dog is glued to his hip when he's here, and there's always a toy in Steve's back pocket for him," he states.
He's too busy looking at his screen to notice her roll her eyes at the statement. Not that she didn't think it was true, it most certainly was true, but for the hypocrisy that Steve led her about. "And he thinks I'm making Rudolph soft," she mumbles, reaching down and petting the top of her dog's head which had been in her lap for a good couple of seconds. If she didn't acknowledge him any sooner, she was sure he'd whine even louder than he had. But the thought of Steve made her wonder how far away he was from here. Tony did say he was on his way back to the tower from South Korea, but that was nine hours ago. How long would it take for him to travel on a quinjet all the way back home?
A sorrowful feeling planted itself in her chest as she thought of him. Rudolph wasn't having any of this melancholy thinking and strode back to Bruce, rubbing his backside up to the professor and begging for pets. She purses her lips to the side as she continues to think about Steve's safety, if he was alright, and what kind of condition he'd show up in. If he ever did get around to showing up. The last time they truly spoke she noted that there was a deepness in his voice, one that made her chilled to the bone. He was hurt when he spoke with her but didn't want to tell her how. The only way she'd be able to find out is if she snooped around for information. And she just so happened to be staring at someone he was with when he was hurt.
"How is he?" she asks softly as if she spoke too loud something bad would happen to him. Bruce, in turn, scratches the back of his head anxiously. Whether it be from her question or the frustration of what he was doing for the project she didn't know. She just watches him intently as he shrugs and continues to pet her dog. "He seems fine." he smiles, placing the dog back down on the ground and returning to his work. "I meant Steve." she corrects him, her voice sounding flat as she chuckles at his nonsense answer. Bruce nods in her direction. "I know," he affirms. She can feel a light hue twinge her cheeks. She feels embarrassed by her correction. "He seems fine. He took a blow in Nigeria," he murmurs while shrugging. It was like he didn't want to be reminded of the incident. "We all took a blow."
She winces at the statement. His normally frantic eyes turned regretful and she felt stupid for bringing that up. She gnaws on her bottom lip for a moment, toiling over what she had said and if it could trigger him at any moment. But he seemed calm and in control, petting Rudolph was soothing him into a stupor. "Steve said someone manipulated him. I'm sure whatever happened wasn't your fault -"
"It was." Bruce abruptly cuts her off in a harsh tone. She stops and chews on the inside of her cheek. He couldn't beat himself up over something he wasn't in control of. He throws her an apologetic look, realizing how rude he must've sounded. "I'm sorry. I'm just trying to take accountability for my actions -"
