Still sick. Please enjoy. -Goldiva

Bandaged and sutured I was ready to help Bruce in any way I could, though admittedly my expertise in the realm of gamma rays and radiation were sadly limited; mostly I ran around taking notes and changing calibrations on machines to his exact specifications. A couple hours into our work the sky swelled up like a giant purple blister and rain began to pelt the glass of the laboratory window, though it was so thick we couldn't hear it.

The atmosphere of the lab was peaceful. We didn't talk much outside of the odd quip but the silence wasn't awkward; on the contrary it was rather comfortable. I think we were both simply enjoying being in the presence of the other.

"Bruce," I asked finally, crossing my arms and leaning against one of the counters.

"Hmm?" he responded, not looking up from a screen across which information was flowing in a blur that made my eyes hurt.

"What exactly is this Tesseract you've been asked to find?"

"Apparently it's pure energy," he responded, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose from where they had slipped, "Concentrated gamma in a cubic, crystalline form. It could power the whole earth for unlimited lifetimes and currently it's in the hands of a very dangerous man." Banner frowned. "At least I think he's a man."

My intuition flickered. "Is he Asgardian then? Like that character who destroyed that town out west last year?" Banner laughed, taking off his glasses and cleaning them surreptitiously.

"Sharp!" he chuckled, "But how did you know about that? I thought SHIELD kept things out of the press?"

"If you know how to sort out the garbage," I stated drolly, "Cheap magazines can be an excellent source of information." I had read them religiously over the years in the hopes of finding any tidbit on Banner and had developed a certain knack for discerning fact from fiction.

"You probably shouldn't spread around that your main sources of information are tabloids," teased Banner, earning him a gentle tap on the shoulder.

"I happen to be very well-read, thank you very much," I sniffed with false disdain. Though it was true; I devoured newspapers and books in general like a word junkie. "Professor," I asked after another moment, "Why do they want it?"

"What?" he asked confused.

"The cube," I clarified, "Why do they want the cube?" Banner laughed.

"It's a clean, unlimited energy source, Sophie," he said, casting me a teasing grin, "What's not to want?" Thunder rumbled in response to a flash of lightning I hadn't seen and I jumped a bit, startled.

"I'm serious, Bruce," I muttered, glaring at the amused crinkles around his eyes, "If the cu- Tesseract is as powerful as they claim it to be, are you really going to tell me they only want it as an energy source? Doesn't that seem a bit too, well, easy?" Bruce stared at me and I could practically see the pieces flying together in his head as his brow furrowed in thought.

"No," he said abruptly, shaking his head and focusing back on one of the screens, "No, no, no. I don't want to know." I stared at him, astounded.

"But-"

"No buts Sophie," he said glancing up at me firmly, "My job is to locate the cube and then I'm gone before they decide to lock me up or I go berserk and kill someone. End of story." He swallowed thickly and I realized how scared he was, of SHIELD but mostly of what he carried inside him. I didn't have the heart to challenge him.

"Alright," I said softly, retreating to my own side of the lab where I picked up the small digital pad and continued to scribble down data with my stylus. Not ten minutes had passed before I heard an odd rumbling from his end. "Was that your stomach?" I asked with a laugh, turning around for confirmation.

"Probably just thunder," Bruce murmured from where he was hunched over his work. I set down the electronic pad and walked closer to him, listening. The rumbling sounded again and this time I heard the distinctive gurgle.

"That was most definitely your stomach, Mr. Banner," I teased, "I don't want to pull you away so how's about I go rustle us up some dinner, hmm?" Bruce smiled.

"That sounds great." I pushed off from the desk and crossed the room. The glass panel slid open with a gentle whoosh and I stepped out into the hallway, pondering whether to go left or right. After a moment's deliberation I went left, knowing at the very least I'd find my way back to the brig and someone there could direct me. The lab turned out to be slightly warmer than the hall and I could feel the gooseflesh beginning to rise on my arms as I walked, my bare feet making gentle slapping noises against the floor.

I came to a fork and frowned before closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. "Yup," I exhaled, "Food is that way." I banked right, following my sense of smell until I located some SHIELD agents headed for the mess hall, and then I simply followed them. "Hey," came a masculine voice to my right. My head swiveled to find that a young SHIELD agent was matching pace at my side, a cocky grin on his tanned face. I studied his face for a moment, examining his sharp features and messy hair before letting my gaze fall to the lapel of his suit where a pair of stylized stainless steel wings were pinned. A pilot. How fitting.

"That was quite a tumble you took this morning, I'm glad to see you're okay," he said sincerely, his voice slicker than a tin roof in a rain storm.

"Thanks," I said, hiding my unease beneath a genial smile, "It wasn't that bad. Just a few scrapes." The agent laughed and the sound was so cultivated it made my hackles raise.

"You're tough," he complimented with a wink, "The name's Gabe Sterns, by the way." I absent-mindedly shook his outstretched hand.

"Sophie Crowe," I replied, allowing my senses to roam as we entered the mess hall. The mess was set up cafeteria style with a sea of tables and chairs to my right and food to my left and one quick glance at the collection of food told me it was going to be 'cafeteria style' as well. The tables were full, but the plates of the agents were essentially empty, leading to my suspicion that it was nearing the tail end of the dinner block.

"So tell me," asked Gabe as we collected a pair of trays and took our places at the end of the line, "How long have you been dating 'the monster'? Me and the boys aren't anxious for him to go all freak-show on us but we've heard it's a sight to behold." I glanced at him sharply, my distaste for him growing stronger the more time I spent in his odious presence.

"He's not a monster," I snapped, slamming my tray down with more force than necessary on the counter before softening my tone, "And we're just old friends."

"Jeez, chillax!" laughed Gabe, slapping my bare shoulder and lingering longer than he should have, "We agents like to shoot the breeze. No offense meant."

"Don't touch me," I muttered, moving down the line and trying to select foods that looked like they hadn't been deep-fried, freeze-dried, or come out of a can. "Hey!" called Gabe, moving up right next to me so that our bodies contacted all the way down, "Look, I'm sorry alright? Now do you mind taking that stick out of your ass so we can have a civil conversation?"

My eyes narrowed at him incredulously. "Who the hell do you think you are?" I asked irritably, "I don't know you, and I really don't care to, so back off." I studied the shock in his face and something dawned on me rather belatedly. He was probably considered exceedingly handsome, gorgeous even, and he almost definitely wasn't used to having women shut him down.

Gabe growled with what appeared to be a mixture of frustration and embarrassment, and cut the line, hurrying to put distance between us. "He's going to be trouble," I murmured thoughtfully, grabbing two seeded rolls from the basket with a pair of tongs. I continued down the line until I was satisfied that I had enough and then broke away, heading out of the mess, ignoring the glares I got from Gabe and his compatriots on the way.