Radioactive | Bucky Barnes

THE FIRST AVENGER: CHAPTER FIFTEEN

"I could probably work better if I didn't have to dodge you," Howard muttered, stepping over Rhiley, who was, once again, sprawled on the floor. "You realize I'm handling a highly unknown, possibly dangerous substance, right?"

"I know you're being dramatic," Rhiley huffed—dramatically, some might say.

"Someone's in a much better mood." Howard carefully placed the cube cartridge inside the blast chamber. Outside, he examined it while his engineer scribbled notes. "Emission signature's odd. Alpha, beta, and gamma-ray neutral. Though I doubt Rogers noticed that." He glanced sideways at Rhiley. "I doubt you picked up on it either."

"I may not understand 95% of what you say, but I can burn this place down in seconds," Rhiley shot back. "Don't test me, Howie."

"Good thing I made this place fireproof."

"Are you fireproof?"

Howard ignored the jab and turned back to his work. "Looks harmless enough—unlike something else in this room," he added with a glance.

Rhiley rolled her eyes.

Howard guided the robot claw, extending it toward a wire. "Hard to see what all the fuss is abou—"

The second the wire touched the pellet, a deafening boom rocked the lab. The chamber windows shattered, and Howard was launched into the far wall.

When the dust cleared, Rhiley was still lounging in her original spot. Shards of glass floated around her before dropping harmlessly to the floor. She sat up.

"Write that down," Howard told his shaken engineer, then shot a glare at Rhiley. "I feel like there was much more you could've done there."

"I didn't want to." She stood, brushing off a few glass shards.

Howard made a choking motion at her, took a calming breath, and rubbed his temples. "I'm gonna go find a broom," he muttered, exiting the lab. His assistant hurried out behind him.

"Fondue's just cheese and bread, my friend," Howard told Steve as they reentered the lab, where workers were replacing broken glass and sweeping debris. Rhiley sat on a counter in the corner, watching.

"And it sounds like she thinks you've got more going for you than that."

"I didn't think—"

"Nor should you. The minute you think you know what's in a woman's head, your goose is cooked."

"I wouldn't take that kind of advice from my brother, Rogers," Rhiley chimed in. "He may be brilliant, but when it comes to women? He's a dumbass."

Howard looked like he was about to respond but only pointed at her and turned to Steve. "I concentrate on work. Like making sure you and your men don't get killed. And, unfortunately, keeping my sister alive, too."

"I am on Cap's team," Rhiley reminded him.

Howard sighed and rolled out a sheet of sleek gray material. "Carbon polymer. It should hold up against your average German bayonet. Though Hydra's not bringing pocket knives..." He stepped aside to reveal a shield on the worktable. "Heard you're kind of attached."

Steve stepped forward, brushing a finger along the bullet-pocked surface. "It's handier than you'd think."

"So's a hotel chambermaid, but I wouldn't take her into battle."

"Howard Stark," Rhiley warned.

He rolled his eyes. "Like you weren't thinking the same thing." He pulled over a cart of prototype shields. "Took the liberty of making a few options." He held one up. "This one's fun—fitted with transistorized relays."