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Started By
Message
re: Bard's Poor Attempt at a Combined Marvel/DC Universe (an ongoing project)
Posted on 5/7/23 at 9:59 am to Bard
Posted on 5/7/23 at 9:59 am to Bard
He closed his eyes as he focused on the taste of his sandwich; these small, quiet moments were what he lived for these days. It wasn’t the sandwich itself he was really enjoying (although it was a very tasty chicken salad), it was the peace and solitude of being away from the controlled chaos of the gamma generator he and his team were working on for the military. While his goal was to create a clean and endless source of energy for the world, the military wanted a bomb. The military considered the project so important they had teams of scientists and engineers working on it around the clock. Until a couple of months ago, he had been the secondary lead on the project, running the night crew, behind the day crew’s Dr. Arthur Light.
Being in charge of the smaller, more informal crew had not hampered his work at all. Being in charge of the entire program was the exact opposite.
He had found this table behind a little-used building not far from the base cafeteria, it had become his port in the storm of dealing with over-bearing military brass and his chaotic beehive of workers. He was used to being here alone with his thoughts so it was simple for him to be startled by an unexpected voice.
“Oh! I didn’t think anyone else knew about this spot.”
He opened his eyes as he turned toward the spot where the voice had come from… and he was speechless. Bruce Banner had never been good at speaking to women and women had never seemed to care much about speaking to him, this was different. She was stunning, her auburn hair moving slightly in the small breeze. In that moment he somehow knew there was something special about her. They locked eyes for a second, he was one of the smartest people in the world but her presence here had struck him dumb and mute. Somehow, some gear in his brain turned enough to re-engage his vocal chords enough for him to squeeze out the words, “don’t worry about it.”
Think of something to say. Think of something to say! “I could actually use some company.” CRAP! Why could I use company right now? Think, man! THINK!
She smiled at him as she sat down then began unpacking plastic containers of food from her insulated bag. Bruce’s heart began to beat faster. He mentally began trying to work his way through the Lagrangian Standard Model as in an attempt to calm his nerves.
“I’m Betty.”
“Bruce.” Bruce was kicking himself for not being able to think of some interesting way to start a conversation. He had always been a little socially awkward; but unlike many of his peers he was completely, painfully, aware of the awkwardness. In his desperation he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. “Can I give you my pickle?” Okay, it wasn’t his first thought, but it was the first safe thought.
She looked up suddenly and stared at him with a look between shock and hurt. “E… excuse me?”
Okay, maybe it wasn’t that safe after all. Damage control!
He held up the pickle the cafeteria workers always include in the sandwich lunch sacks. “Cucumis anguria acetum abominatio. Most people like them but I can’t stand vinegary stuff. I ask the staff not to include one in my bag but they do it anyway.”
She stared for a second longer then snorted with laughter.
Oh, thank God! She continued to laugh for a few moments, it was one of the most pleasant sounds Bruce could remember hearing.
“I’m sorry, Bruce. The guys I’ve encountered lately seem to be interested in only one thing and I instantly assumed you were as well. I didn’t even realize I was doing it until just now. That was unfair of me. I really needed that laugh though, so thank you.”
Bruce smiled slightly. “You’re welcome… I think.”
As Betty started digging into her pack again, Bruce held the pickle up again. “So… the offer still stands. Pickle?”
She looked up with an impish smile, whispered “yes” just loud enough for him to hear, then snatched it from his hand.
Being in charge of the smaller, more informal crew had not hampered his work at all. Being in charge of the entire program was the exact opposite.
He had found this table behind a little-used building not far from the base cafeteria, it had become his port in the storm of dealing with over-bearing military brass and his chaotic beehive of workers. He was used to being here alone with his thoughts so it was simple for him to be startled by an unexpected voice.
“Oh! I didn’t think anyone else knew about this spot.”
He opened his eyes as he turned toward the spot where the voice had come from… and he was speechless. Bruce Banner had never been good at speaking to women and women had never seemed to care much about speaking to him, this was different. She was stunning, her auburn hair moving slightly in the small breeze. In that moment he somehow knew there was something special about her. They locked eyes for a second, he was one of the smartest people in the world but her presence here had struck him dumb and mute. Somehow, some gear in his brain turned enough to re-engage his vocal chords enough for him to squeeze out the words, “don’t worry about it.”
Think of something to say. Think of something to say! “I could actually use some company.” CRAP! Why could I use company right now? Think, man! THINK!
She smiled at him as she sat down then began unpacking plastic containers of food from her insulated bag. Bruce’s heart began to beat faster. He mentally began trying to work his way through the Lagrangian Standard Model as in an attempt to calm his nerves.
“I’m Betty.”
“Bruce.” Bruce was kicking himself for not being able to think of some interesting way to start a conversation. He had always been a little socially awkward; but unlike many of his peers he was completely, painfully, aware of the awkwardness. In his desperation he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. “Can I give you my pickle?” Okay, it wasn’t his first thought, but it was the first safe thought.
She looked up suddenly and stared at him with a look between shock and hurt. “E… excuse me?”
Okay, maybe it wasn’t that safe after all. Damage control!
He held up the pickle the cafeteria workers always include in the sandwich lunch sacks. “Cucumis anguria acetum abominatio. Most people like them but I can’t stand vinegary stuff. I ask the staff not to include one in my bag but they do it anyway.”
She stared for a second longer then snorted with laughter.
Oh, thank God! She continued to laugh for a few moments, it was one of the most pleasant sounds Bruce could remember hearing.
“I’m sorry, Bruce. The guys I’ve encountered lately seem to be interested in only one thing and I instantly assumed you were as well. I didn’t even realize I was doing it until just now. That was unfair of me. I really needed that laugh though, so thank you.”
Bruce smiled slightly. “You’re welcome… I think.”
As Betty started digging into her pack again, Bruce held the pickle up again. “So… the offer still stands. Pickle?”
She looked up with an impish smile, whispered “yes” just loud enough for him to hear, then snatched it from his hand.
1
Posted on 5/7/23 at 10:07 am to Bard
“Ma’am? You can’t go in there!”
The short, round, black woman ignored the general’s secretary as she stormed by her then barged into the office beyond.
“Ross! What the hell do you think you’re doing by moving my people to Building Seven!?! You don’t make decisions for my people behind my back! You talk to me first! And who the hell is that woman outside your office? Where the hell is Millie?”
General Thaddeus “Thunderbolt” Ross slowly lifted his eyes from the paperwork on his desk but didn’t look first at Amanda Waller’s angrily huffing form standing right before him, instead he purposely looked over her shoulder to the fretting form of his new secretary standing in the doorway. “It’s okay, Cindi.” Wisely, Cindi closed the door as she quickly fled the room.
Ross went back to looking at his paperwork while addressing Waller, pointedly doing so as if she were a subordinate. He knew she hated when people failed to be intimidated by her.
“We’ve discussed this, Amanda,” he said, not using her title because that angered her as well. “You have people on this base, but it’s my base,” he continued in a tone an adult might use to explain something to a child. She hated that as well, he knew. General Ross knew Amanda Waller’s temperament, he knew that a great many things angered her. He also knew it gave her a problem with stomach ulcers, a problem she was determined to keep secret. One day he would hit her with the fact that he knew about it, but not today. Just thinking about her potential reaction put a small smile on his lips.
He continued, still studying the paperwork on his desk. “I moved your Pegasus eggheads to Seven because the Pentagon has moved up testing for the gamma bomb. Again. We need as much brain-power on this project as possible if we’re going to make the deadline.”
Waller slammed the palms of her hands on the general’s desk. “I don’t give a tinker’s damn about you’re bomb project! Reverse-engineering the Richards’ technology takes precedent so my people are going back and that’s final! You are to never move nor use my people again without getting my permission first!”
Ross looked up and directly at her then. Without looking away, he put down the papers he had been “reading” as he stood up. Standing fully upright, he stared quietly down at the diminutive woman across the desk from him for a moment. With calm steel in his voice he uttered a single word, “No.” After another moment’s silence he added, with slight sarcasm, “Director.”
In a voice which was almost a growl, “Don’t make me pull rank on you, ‘Thad.’” Her glare was intense, challenging.
Ross knew this was a test of wills, in her world the first person to look away lost. He could stare with the best of them, but he also knew when retreat was the better part of strategy. He looked away first. He could almost feel Amanda’s triumph radiating out of her… right up to the second she realized he had looked from her and to the phone he was reaching for.
Now he looked back at her as he handed her the receiver. “Star 2-2 will get you directly to the Chairman of the Joint Chief’s’ office. Star 1-1 will ring that red phone on the President’s desk. While you’re telling them you’re somehow rescinding their orders, tell them I said ‘hi’.”
He had her and she knew it. Best of all for him, she knew he knew it too. Without another word she turned sharply and left, his smile followed in her wake.
The short, round, black woman ignored the general’s secretary as she stormed by her then barged into the office beyond.
“Ross! What the hell do you think you’re doing by moving my people to Building Seven!?! You don’t make decisions for my people behind my back! You talk to me first! And who the hell is that woman outside your office? Where the hell is Millie?”
General Thaddeus “Thunderbolt” Ross slowly lifted his eyes from the paperwork on his desk but didn’t look first at Amanda Waller’s angrily huffing form standing right before him, instead he purposely looked over her shoulder to the fretting form of his new secretary standing in the doorway. “It’s okay, Cindi.” Wisely, Cindi closed the door as she quickly fled the room.
Ross went back to looking at his paperwork while addressing Waller, pointedly doing so as if she were a subordinate. He knew she hated when people failed to be intimidated by her.
“We’ve discussed this, Amanda,” he said, not using her title because that angered her as well. “You have people on this base, but it’s my base,” he continued in a tone an adult might use to explain something to a child. She hated that as well, he knew. General Ross knew Amanda Waller’s temperament, he knew that a great many things angered her. He also knew it gave her a problem with stomach ulcers, a problem she was determined to keep secret. One day he would hit her with the fact that he knew about it, but not today. Just thinking about her potential reaction put a small smile on his lips.
He continued, still studying the paperwork on his desk. “I moved your Pegasus eggheads to Seven because the Pentagon has moved up testing for the gamma bomb. Again. We need as much brain-power on this project as possible if we’re going to make the deadline.”
Waller slammed the palms of her hands on the general’s desk. “I don’t give a tinker’s damn about you’re bomb project! Reverse-engineering the Richards’ technology takes precedent so my people are going back and that’s final! You are to never move nor use my people again without getting my permission first!”
Ross looked up and directly at her then. Without looking away, he put down the papers he had been “reading” as he stood up. Standing fully upright, he stared quietly down at the diminutive woman across the desk from him for a moment. With calm steel in his voice he uttered a single word, “No.” After another moment’s silence he added, with slight sarcasm, “Director.”
In a voice which was almost a growl, “Don’t make me pull rank on you, ‘Thad.’” Her glare was intense, challenging.
Ross knew this was a test of wills, in her world the first person to look away lost. He could stare with the best of them, but he also knew when retreat was the better part of strategy. He looked away first. He could almost feel Amanda’s triumph radiating out of her… right up to the second she realized he had looked from her and to the phone he was reaching for.
Now he looked back at her as he handed her the receiver. “Star 2-2 will get you directly to the Chairman of the Joint Chief’s’ office. Star 1-1 will ring that red phone on the President’s desk. While you’re telling them you’re somehow rescinding their orders, tell them I said ‘hi’.”
He had her and she knew it. Best of all for him, she knew he knew it too. Without another word she turned sharply and left, his smile followed in her wake.
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