Friends With the Monster

Stop Holding Your Breath

Natasha sips her cosmo and takes a handful of mixed nuts from a bowl placed in between them. Her feet would be dangling off the stool if she were to remove them from the post that the heels of her boots are locked onto. Bruce has yet to speak aside from ordering his green Pingo Doce, it's some soda rather than alcohol. Romanoff chooses not to ask, amused by the color as she continues to analyze her prey.

He's quiet, handsome, seemingly mild mannered. She has a bit of guilt for lying to and stalking him- just a little.

Then again, it's always the quiet ones who have the most secrets. At least that's her experience. Currently mild mannered or not, the figure beside her is 'home' to a huge green monster who occasionally terrorizes cities. She does understand him and that brings her the most fear.

Natasha's curiosity in Fury's Initiative is unrelenting. Why her boss would have keen interest in Bruce is only serving to strengthen Natasha's curiosity in the physicist.

And then of course, there is a purely personal reason. Romanoff would be lying if she admitted out loud that she didn't find his intellect, dorky persona, and soft eyes just a tiny bit interesting.

Bruce had ordered his soda so softly, cautious about keeping his area pristine.

OCD, Natasha deduces.

He's gentle with the bartender and ever polite with his 'please' and 'thank you'. His fumbling over Natasha's stool stands out to Romanoff the most; She's unsure if he meant to sit there or if the gesture was one of chivalry... for a potential black mailer? Or whatever else he thought Natasha to be...

Unless Fury's secretly in search of a tidy butler who is good with numbers, Bruce won't check every box.

"If I didn't just see your I.D, I'd be asking if 'Nina' is your name."

The redhead swallows, thank the super serum for young enough features to merit having a show an identification before ordering a drink.

"Then again,' Bruce twirls his bottle of soda ever so slightly, glass scraping with the wood underneath, 'Licenses can be faked these days."

It's a standoff now, he's analyzing her and she's analyzing him. And he's getting a little too close for comfort; No one questions her cover names without pushback.

Natasha squints sarcastically and tosses her long red hair from off her shoulder, "Let me guess, you photoshop cards on the side, when you're not delivering pizza or being a chauffeur?"

"You think I'm a criminal," his smirk sends a shiver down her spine.

"I know you have secrets," she answers softly and finds his focus.

He dodges, eyeing the bowl of nuts, "A lot of people have secrets. I would wager I have less than you do."

"Yours is a big one."

Natasha drops her hand, sliding the bowl in his direction. He immediately goes for a handful and the response is leaning toward the fact that he's broke. Probably on the run and starving if all he can afford is a few cups of soup. -Surely that wouldn't be enough to feed the green elephant inside of him.

She crosses her arms and watches. Bruce must feel like an animal when he looks up and finds her staring, pausing on his nibbling and abandoning the peanuts with a sad focus and a firm tone;

"Are you after the scientist or the monster?"

His direct question catches Natasha off guard, clearly she's done a poor job of easing his worries;

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You do. You know my name and you have WiFi at your hotel. It doesn't take more than a quick news outlet search to get a video and a basic biography."