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.
