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“Just you and me,” Bruce commented sarcastically.
The red-haired woman stared at him, one hand still near the earpiece, hostility, and fear in her eyes.
“Let’s go,” she said after an uncomfortably long pause and waited for him to go outside before she followed, almost making a point about not turning her back on him. Bruce sighed and stepped out, feeling the unease amongst the soldiers outside when he silently followed them to their plane.
The woman, Natasha, stepped inside behind him, going to a monitor at the side as the back of the plane closed. She picked up a pair of earphones and pressed a few buttons, he could hear how somebody spoke at the receiving end.
“Setting off now, Sir,” she said, listened, nodded a little. “Yes, Sir. I understand.” She hesitated for a second. “Any news on him?” she asked then, a little more softly. Bruce deduced the answer wasn’t satisfying from the way her face stayed hard like a mask. Maybe that was her thing, though, looking unfazed anytime. These spy-people were creepy as hell.
“Okay, thank you. Yes, Sir.”
She put down the earphones and settled on one of the seats, closing her seatbelt.
“We can get moving now,” she told the pilot.
“Is the ‘Sir’ at every sentence required?” Bruce asked, slightly more sarcastic than required as the plane took off. She looked up.
"Said the man with a Ph.D.?"
“Seven,” he corrected, slightly amused when she raised her eyebrows. “I have seven PhDs. Aren’t you well-informed, Agent Romanoff?”
She scoffed. “I was unaware seven PhDs changed how I should address you compared to one. Would sound weird, wouldn’t it?”
“I assume the ‘Sir’ is your boss, Fury?”
She shrugged. “It’s the correct addressing. Do you have a problem with hierarchical structures, Dr. Banner?”
She was looking him dead in the eye, but at least she looked annoyed now, no longer afraid. He had to admit he liked teasing her a little, this tough, serious woman who had no idea what hell she was pulling him into.
“No, no, just wondering.”
She shook her head and pulled out a phone, he wasn’t sure if it was the same one she had shown him earlier, he wasn’t even sure if she had taken it with her again or not. What he could tell, though, was that it was locked not in one, but in three ways, a pin-code, a pattern, and probably her fingerprint. Top secret alright.
She grimaced slightly, loosened her seatbelt, and got up, walking a few steps away, as far away from everyone else as the limited space allowed.
“Would you mind, this is a classified matter,” he heard her say to one of the other agents who nodded and moved away. Bruce decided he didn’t give a shit about classified and sat silently to listen to the call she made.
“Hi.” Her voice was hushed, quite different from the manner she had just used for the report to her boss. “Sorry I couldn’t call earlier, I was assigned with something else for today… No, not that. We have, well, bigger problems right now… I know. That’s why I called. He’s involved in the problem… No, no, not like that…” Her voice sounded calming now, reassuring. “He wasn’t harmed, not physically, but there’s this guy playing mind games and all… Don’t worry, you know I’m an expert on that, I’ll box him out of this. I’ll be after him as soon as they let me, I promise. I’ll find him… I understand that. Don’t worry, we’ll have this sorted out, I’ll fix this. I’ll find him… Okay,” she replied after a few seconds, her voice almost tender. "I will. Stay down, stay safe. Everyone could be dangerous at the moment, wait till I call again and let nobody inside until then, do you understand?... Okay, great. Yes, me too. See you soon.” She ended the call, breathing out quietly.
“Didn’t sound too classified to me,” Bruce commented.
She spun around, glaring at him.
“I don’t think the state gave you the license to listen in to private conversations to prevent harm,” she hissed.
“But to you?” he asked back bitingly. He was aware he shouldn’t have listened in, and he couldn’t shake the thought that she had sounded different, caring, almost worried with whomever she had been speaking to. But he was also mad at her, and so he didn’t apologize.
“As a matter of fact, yes,” she replied frostily. “But not for curiosity, that’s rude.”
“So you’re never using all that fancy spy technology for your own purposes?” he asked mockingly. “Never stalking people out of interest?”
She scoffed again. “Believe it or not, my existence isn’t that pathetic.”
She turned around on her heels, very elegantly, and went back over to the communication monitor. This time, she put on the headphones properly, as if she knew the conversation would be longer.
“Yes, hello,” she said. “I’d like to be connected to Agent Coulson, please. Yes, I’ll wait, thank you.”
She waited for a minute or two before somebody answered.
"Hello, Coulson. Do you have a few minutes for me?"
No Sir this time, Bruce thought.
She threw a quick look in his direction.
“Yes, it is.”
What did she mean by “it”? The Monster? The security risk?
Her voice grew softer when she looked away again.
“You know I’m not calling because of that.”
She grimaced a little at the other person’s reply.
“I know. I’m asking to be pulled off this operation. I can go find him.”
Bruce couldn’t understand anything precisely, but he did gather that the other person, Coulson, refused quite openly.
Natasha frowned, dissatisfied.
“Why? You know I’m your best bet at finding him.”
She scoffed at his answer.
“He’s not stupid. And tech doesn’t solve all problems.”
He. The one she had asked on news for, the third call in the last few minutes centering around “him”. Whoever it was about, it was a priority for her.
She furrowed her brows in annoyance.
“I’m serious, Coulson, let me go after him. I can find him, you know I can. This space guy doesn’t know Earth, he’ll need a guide, and every sane person would choose Barton for that. I know his hiding places, I know how he thinks, I can find him and bring him back.”
Barton. Bruce had to admit he quite enjoyed finding out bits and pieces like that.
She looked beautiful, even or maybe especially now that she was mad, her face hardening.
“But why? Banner doesn’t need me to hold his hand till we reach HQ! What do you need me for there?”
Bruce grimaced, half-amused, half-indignant. She really did want to get away from him, didn’t she?
Now her eyes widened.
“Me? Fury wants me… you can’t be serious! I’m on the list, too? Along with Tony Stark and fucking Captain America?”
Again, her head turned slightly, a minimal glance in his direction. Apparently, he was on the list as well, whatever it was. They would surely be a good addition to America’s golden boy and the modern superhero. A monster and a spy. Sounded awesome.
“So is Barton,” she replied. This time, she seemed to get a confirmation but she didn’t seem too happy about it either.
“Then let me find him and the team has one more member present!”
The reply was slightly longer this time. Natasha’s face turned very cold, and Bruce got a first idea of just how dangerous this woman could be.
“I think you should hope very much that Barton won’t be harmed before I get him back,” she said icily, tone walking the line to threatening before she ended the call.
“Who’s this Barton the fuss is about?” Bruce asked.
She turned around to him, face even harder than before. If he had ever had any sympathy points on her part, he was certainly on his best way to lose them.
“A S.H.I.E.L.D agent,” she replied coldly.
“Deserter?” he guessed, mainly to see it ruffle her feathers. One didn’t have to be a spy to understand that this guy was not just ‘a S.H.I.E.L.D agent’ to her.
She sat down, crossing her arms.
“Held captive. You’ll certainly be filled in on the details if that should be necessary.”
“You are very insistent on being the one to go find him,” he persisted.
Her eyes flashed dangerously.
“Certainly more than being on this plane, doc.”
“Am I that bad as company?” he mocked, knowing she would never admit out loud that his presence made her uncomfortable.
She scoffed. “Let’s not pretend you enjoy being around me beyond eavesdropping on my conversations.”
Bruce scoffed as well, slowly realizing that he was behaving childishly but that only made him angrier.
“I still hope you get your boyfriend back,” he added sweetly, having the nasty, petty urge to make her feel bad because he did.
She looked at him silently for an uncomfortably long time and he started wondering if he should apologize.
“I hope I get him back, too,” she replied finally, so solemnly. He opened his mouth to take it back, but she already got up and walked away, disappearing behind a curtain.
When she returned, dressed in black skinny jeans, an orange pullover, and a leather jacket, she looked decidedly American and decidedly beautiful and for the rest of the plane ride, she didn't say a word.
A few minutes earlier, a different plane swiftly made its way through the air. Inside, a tall, broad-shouldered man sat calmly on a bench, just being handed a tablet which he handled somewhat clumsily.
Agent Coulson bowed over and pressed a few buttons.
“A little information for you about your future teammates,” he explained.
Steve Rogers looked at the screen, finding five folders with different symbols and names.
Tony Stark “Iron Man” -a triangle enclosed in a circle
Dr. Bruce Banner “The Hulk” -no symbol
Thor Odinson -a hammer
Natasha Romanoff “Black Widow” – a simplified hourglass
Clint Barton “Hawkeye” – an arrow
“Six people for this job?” Steve asked, leaving it unclear whether he thought that was too much or too little.
“The job’s complicated,” Coulson replied with a shrug. “We need different skillsets and personalities, which is why we chose the six of you." He sighed. "Even though we, unfortunately, have only four of you around to help at the moment.”
The monitor beeped and Coulson turned around.
“I’m sorry, please excuse me for a minute.”
He went over while Steve quickly skimmed all five profiles, noticing Tony Stark’s eccentric beard design – if that wasn’t a Howard thing to do, the way the Doctor avoided the camera with his eyes, lifted his eyebrows slightly at Thor’s description “demigod”, met the steely eyes of the young red-haired woman named Natasha Romanoff and lastly the tiny smirk in the corner of Clint Barton’s mouth.
“Hello?” he heard Coulson ask. He couldn’t understand the reply, but Coulson answered swiftly.
“You’re in luck, right now I do. What’s the matter, is your package loaded?”
He nodded a little as a reaction to what he heard, then sighed.
“We don’t have any news on him, I’m sorry.”
He listened again, then shook his head firmly.
“Absolutely not.”
Apparently, the caller wasn't satisfied, but Coulson shook his head again.
“We’re running face recognition for him everywhere… Don’t let Stark hear that.”
He sounded slightly amused but Steve didn’t believe it for a second.
The reply took a little longer. Coulson sighed again.
“No, Natasha, I’m sorry. Director Fury wants you on the carrier with the others.”
Natasha. Steve tapped on the image to enlarge it, the woman with the steely gaze, determined as she stared at him. A S.H.I.E.L.D agent, part of a division named ‘Strike Team Delta’.
“The director wants the team to be as assembled as possible, and that includes you,” Coulson said. Apparently, the woman wasn’t too keen on being a part of this operation.
“Are you really that surprised? You are one of S.H.I.E.L.D’s best… Yes, hence why he’s on the list as well.”
Steve frowned, tapping on Clint Barton’s picture, following a strange intuition.
Strike Team Delta.
So the two of them knew each other, and she was bargaining about him…
“A part of the team’s mission is to get the hostages back, but I can’t authorize you to run off on your own. Bring your package to the carrier and wait for further instructions.”
Hostages. So Barton was one of the members that wouldn’t be present.
Coulson sighed deeply.
“We do, Natasha, trust me, we do.”
Steve tapped on the file of Dr. Banner, quickly skimming the information on him. He didn’t want it to be too obvious he had listened in.
“We’re about 40 minutes from home base, Sir,” one of the pilots said while Coulson put off his headphones, turning back to Steve.
The super soldier looked up.
“So this Dr. Banner was trying to replicate the serum they used on me?”