Hi! We got some good stuff comin' up. ENJOY some Amira/Bruce time for now.

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing of Marvel's.


Chapter Seven - My Eyes Deny It

The remainder of the day went by very, very fast. First, she was given an enthusiastic tour of the tower by Tony. She continued to be stunned by how lavish and modern everything was. Nothing came without bells and whistles; the coffee machine was so fancy that the touch screen user interface was in Italian! It certainly beat the dingy, makeshift sand trap she inhabited before by miles. His employees seemed loyal and happy. Amira was impressed at how tightly the ship was run. Tony assured her this was entirely Pepper's doing. Amira didn't doubt him. The woman sounded like an absolute paragon. She also couldn't miss the sweet affectation in his voice whenever he mentioned her business prowess. He truly loved her, there was no doubt.

She was delighted to chat with Steve over lunch where she was able to ask him all the questions she had since she was a little girl. He told her all about World War II and what Wakanda was like – a rare thing given that he was one of very few outsider's ever allowed to set foot within the country's borders. Being on good terms with the Black Panther came with perks like that. He was funny, often times without meaning it, and he didn't get very many of Amira's jokes. Needless to say, she was totally charmed by his antiquated sensibilities. After they bonded over a mutual fondness for Citizen Kane – a film which Steve had been exposed to thanks to an attempt by the American government to boost troop morale. They then launched into a spirited discussion about film. Amira got caught up mooning about some of her favorite science fiction movies when – much to her surprise – she was honored with having one of her own personal favorite movies added to his zeitgeist notebook. She promised him he would enjoy Blade Runner unequivocally.

Bruce had disappeared since they parted ways after the tense meeting in the board room. As Tony had lead her through his famed Research and Development sector, she saw him hunched over a notepad. He was alternating between furiously scribbling notes and surveying various scientific contraptions that buzzed and whirred beside him. He actually looked comfortable, for once. It kind of felt like seeing a wild animal in it's natural habitat. The thought made Amira chuckle. Of course, he was far too absorbed in his work to notice her passing, despite the hallway being completely visible through the glass walls. She was glad he didn't see her – that they didn't make eye contact. The intensity of his gaze during their discussion made Amira uneasy. Though he acted with unattached indifference, she suspected there was little about that man that wasn't totally intense.

Aaron texted her a picture of the hangar and airfield he would be inhabiting for the foreseeable future. He was over the moon, it would seem. There were dozens of different aircraft for him to tinker with all day. They talked back and forth about eachothers eventful day. One of his texts included was a selfie next to a sleek new quin jet.

Darla, he called her.

Amira couldn't be sad about anything if Aaron was happy.

The evening had set in and Amira was completely drained. Her feet were killing her and her eyes watered and stung with exhaustion. Thankfully, she was being shown to her new quarters by one of Tony's assistants. She would get a chance to change into some comfortable clothes! The girl's name was Melissa – or something to that effect. Amira wasn't really listening, she was practically an animated corpse shuffling behind the pert young blonde as she shunt her down the quiet little hallway, chirping away about "amenities" this and "next gen features" that.

When they finally arrived at her door Amira's heart leaped with anticipation. She would have her very own room with her very own bed, not some sunken in, sad hot-bunk. After reciting the usual pleasantries, the pixie-like girl swung the door open for her and presented her with a key card. Amira murmured a bleary thank you and stepped into her room. She could hear the woman's heels clip-clop hurriedly away. Amira's jaw dropped.

It looked like it came from the same interior decorating magazine that the lounge had. It was a generously sized studio apartment complete with a large, plush looking bed and a modest little work desk. There was a partitioned area where a cream sofa was nestled around a rectangular glass coffee table. Hues of red and honey lent the space a very mature and homey feel. In a daze and looking all around, Amira almost lost balance trying to remove her heels. The flecked tile beneath her feet felt cool and clean. She padded softly over to the floor to ceiling windows across from the door. This was now her space. She hadn't had anything like this in, well, ever! She never got to have her own room as a child – she had to share hers with her twerpy kid brother due to the cramped nature of growing up in Brooklyn.

At the Xavier Institute she always had dorm mates. She went straight from school into S.H.I.E.L.D. where – for basic training – she was filed immediately into a huge, odorous bunk room. And it went a whole lot like that until this very moment. As she stared out onto the city she gently loosened her braid and worked her fingers through her dark curls. Satisfied, stepped away from the window to face her bed, which she quickly flopped into, face down; like a cake dropped from great height. It was heavenly. Her eyes heavily shut and she was fully prepared for the reality that she may fall asleep without a change or a shower.

"Pardon me, Miss Mizrahi." The stilted English accent belonging to JARVIS cracked her serenity wide open. Apparently, she did not have the privacy that she previously thought she had. Not bothering to lift her head out of her fluffy bedclothes she responded.

"Yes, JARVIS?" She replied, trying to dial back the disappointment in her voice which made her end up sounding a little too excited.

"Tony has requested your presence in his office." He graciously informed her.

"Which floor?" Amira groaned and willed her fatigued body to carry her to the walk-in closet by the bathroom, which she hadn't even got a chance to peek into.

"The 68th, ma'am. I can give you further instruction when you arrive there."

She brusquely thanked him. Soon, she had found what few articles of clothing she own stowed lovingly within her new closet, which smelled faintly of new drywall and lumber. Sitting below the hanging apparel was a pair of scuffed black boots. The tread was thick and jagged but the material allowed for stealth as well as utility. She looked at them longingly but – due to the necessity of maintaining decorum – she was forced to select the plain black flats that lay beside them. Not bothering to fiddle with her appearance, she stumbled out of her room and prayed that she could remember where the elevator was.


When she found him he was sitting at the top of a ladder very precisely folding a piece of paper in his lap. He waited until he had finished the last crease to look at her. With a flick of his wrist he propelled it into flight. She watched, having not yet crossed the threshold of his office, as his finely crafted paper airplane swooped down from his elevated point on the ladder and came to a soft landing, where it whispered across the floor and came to a stop at her toes. She bent down to pick it up as Tony plucked another piece of paper out of his stack and began anew. There were a dozen or so different styles of paper airplane piled around the edges of the room.

"Never did get that demonstration." He drawled as he worked. Amira examined the paper airplane in her open palms as she crossed to his desk, where she reverently set it down.

"I could give you one now, if you like." She offered. "I can make it quick, it seems like you're pretty busy with-" Another paper airplane loosed. This one sailed into the wall, none-too-gently. "-what you have going on here."

"We all have our own methods of working out demons." He remarked. His hair looked somehow blacker, and his skin paler in the harsh lighting. "Mine just happens to involve wasting lots and lots of paper." With these words, he made his way down the ladder and dismounted with a hop at the last step. He sidled up to face her. "You know, if my friends at the World Land Trust knew about this, they would have a fit. They wouldn't stop taking my money but they would have a fit." Amira clicked her tongue against her teeth and shook her head.

"Your secret is safe with me, Mr. Stark." She replied, her arms crossed. "Now, look at me." He cocked his head suspiciously.

"Okay, we talked about the 'Mr.' thing, drop it. Now, are you using your Jedi mind tricks on me?" He quipped. He was a good quipper. Amira laughed, lightly and purely.

"Not yet. Just look at me."

He was obviously quite skeptical, she could tell by the way that he watched her. His arms were crossed and his eyes were narrowed. Suddenly, his demeanor changed. He uncrossed his arms and held them out, looking left and right, confounded. Amira smiled to herself and waved a hand in front of his face.

"What am I- what just happened?" He sounded perturbed that he wasn't able to figure out her sleight of hand.

"Don't feel bad." She cooed, familiar enough with Tony to engage in a little friendly teasing. Now she was sitting at the top of the ladder. His body twisted at the sound to find her. He turned back to where she was standing thirty seconds ago and then back to her. Amira began folding her own paper airplane. "I haven't met anyone who could see past it- except for Fury, an anomaly I haven't been able to sort out." She explained. Tony stared as she amateurishly bent the white paper, her pink tongue sticking slightly out in concentration.

"So it's just invisibility? What about the whole awareness manipulation thing" Tony stated, sounding a little let down. "I don't feel very manipulated. And I'll have you know, I have been manipulated by hundreds of women, so believe me, I would know if it had happened or not"

"Depends on your perspective. Do you remember the exact moment that you lost track of me?" She inquired softly. Tony opened his mouth to speak but could only quietly choke on his confusion. Amira didn't help him. She figured he was the type who liked to solve riddles on his own, without hints. His eyebrows relaxed from their former puzzled orientation. He snapped and pointed an accusatory finger at her.

"Pepper!" Tony barked, Amira jumped. "I was looking at you and then I started thinking about modifying my Bolt Cannon to have fifteen times the energy output and then I heard Pepper's voice in my head telling me to stop endangering the public with my wild ideas." He blurted out all at once. She gazed down at him, eyes wide, running her hand over a crease over and over. "And then you were gone." He flexed his fingers before her, imitating a magician's fancy flourishes.

"A virus!" He gushed. He cocked his head and stroked his chin, speaking rapidly. "Is it a virus? Something- something like it!" Tony grinned up at her. "That's it. You find the exploit in the system – I took my focus off of you for one second. You slip in between the cracks." He resumed pointing at her. Amira smirked.

"It's not just limited to myself. I can make anyone disappear, provided you aren't paying attention. I'm the only one of my kind, as far as I know." She explained. Then, brandished her complete – albeit crudely made – paper airplane.

"You control who and what the Hulk sees. If he can't see anyone, he can't hurt anyone." Tony sighed.

"Bingo." She grinned. Very audaciously, she launched the little glider into the air. Immediately, it tanked spectacularly, crashing into the floor. Her heart broke at the crinkling splash.

"Wow." Tony whistled and shook his head.

"Yeah, it would have been a lot cooler if the plane didn't...suck." She scratched the back of her head and laughed at the ruined moment.

"Well, hey, my first one wasn't perfect – it was better than that – but it wasn't perfect."

"I can see why you like doing it. I feel totally de-stressed!" She commented as she hopped down from the ladder. Tony had plopped down in his desk chair.

"Speaking of relieving tension, I have a huge favor to ask you." Tony said. Amira raised her eyebrows. Tony swayed from right to left in his swivelly office chair as he processed the silence.

"Do you want to try that agai-" Amira was cut off immediately by Tony.

"Yes. Yes. I would definitely like to rephrase that. Wow." Tony steepled his fingers and touched them to his lips. Amira stifled a laugh. "I didn't ask you in here just for the demonstration. Tomorrow, we are heading out to a little facility of mine in upstate New York to give the Halo cuffs a test drive." Amira's heart jumped painfully and she felt sick. She was not ready to face off with Bruce's Mr. Hyde. Tony, sensing her distress, assuaged her fears.

"We're not going to full Monty yet, relax. I just want to talk to you about-" Tony rubbed his hands together and sighed, collecting his thoughts. "Bruce is a difficult little rascal but I know he wants to try and make this work. Maybe you could track the big guy down and have a chat with him; get to know him a little." Amira faltered at his request. Her shoes were suddenly of the keenest interest.

"I- I don't know. I get the distinct feeling that I'm the last person he wants to see right now." She murmured, looking down still.

"All he knows about you is that you're an ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. operative who is working for – forgive me – a guy who doesn't have the best track record for being forthright about his plans." Amira snorted at this and pushed away her displeasure at being treated so suspiciously. Tony was leaning back in his chair speaking matter-of-factly. He clearly wasn't trying to hurt her feelings. "People like you have been making his life a living hell for years." It was a little hard to ignore the sting of that blow. She was a spy, not Satan himself.

"Fury didn't send me here to harass Dr. Banner." She snipped despite herself. She winced as soon as she realized her tone was a little more impatient then she intended. Tony reassessed her, his features impassive.

"And do you think Bruce will just take your word for that?" He replied in the tone a teacher might adopt. "Look, I believe you. He will need some convincing. He just wants to be the Hulk less and do science more. Give him some peace of mind." Tony stood up from his chair and unwound his limbs in a tremendous stretch.

"Where would I even find him at this hour? It's past 7 o'clock, surely he's retired for the night." She sighed. She wanted to retire for the night. The change into flats only soothed her legs for so long, now she felt annoyed and anxious even though she knew Tony was right. She had to work closely with Bruce starting tomorrow and indefinitely. Tony smiled and bit his lip.

"No, you see, he'd be mad at me if I told you." Tony explained as he walked toward his ladder. "So what I'll say is this: I can neither confirm nor deny that he may or may not be in the lounge. Possibly." He climbed the steps deftly and replaced himself atop his perch.

"The one we talked in this morning?" She stuttered. She wasn't ready to be exposed to Bruce's snark. She was too vulnerable in her exhausted state.

"Do you remember which floor?" Amira nodded. Her memory for details was impeccable, a side effect of her training. "Go on. Get out of here, you little scamp."

"Sir." White hot blood crept up her neck and rushed to face as soon as she uttered the word. Tony looked impressed and put a hand to his heart as if he were touched. Amira lowered her salute and stuttered. "Force of habit."

"I'm flattered, but be at ease, soldier." She exhaled a laugh and turned to leave in search of the elusive Bruce Banner.


Bruce was leaning against the railing of the dimly lit, shallow outcropping on the side of Stark Tower. He patiently waited for his tea to cool while he watched the pale watery sky darken in the wake of the sunset. After enjoying some fresh air he would go back to his lab and work into the early morning, of course, but the room had become too stifling. Too cramped. He had hurriedly left and brewed something with chamomile in it to calm himself. Tony had informed him a few hours earlier that they were heading out very soon to test Halo. Tomorrow, soon. This set his nerves ablaze and he had been in a fit of discomfort ever since.

The perpetual music of sirens and honking horns had come to bring him peace. It was rarely quiet in India, as well. He closed his eyes and practiced breathing slowly and evenly. After awhile he realized it was no use. On a normal day, Bruce Banner was an abnormally disquieted man. On this day, he was totally unwound. He had to work with one of Fury's subordinates, which made him just a little angry, and the unbelievable irony was that the only one to ask him how he felt about moving forward was the agent herself. At the risk of her own job, no less. This was an absolute fluke compared to his experiences with people in her line of work. Even Natasha was still a ruthless operative, just not in his direction, thankfully.

Bruce jumped at the sudden clanging of metal. He turned to see the 'dog of war' he had just been pondering failing to gain access to the balcony. She pushed valiantly against the door and was struck with a very amusing look when she realized Bruce was watching her through the glass.

"You pull it. The door." Bruce instructed while miming the gesture. He was supposed to rely on this woman if he ever had an accident. She was an idiot, apparently. He fought the urge to rub the bridge of his nose. Amira gave the door an experimental pull and sheepishly tip toed out into the space. Even in the low light he could see she was bright red.

"Don't you hate it when that happens?" She stuttered, jabbing her thumb behind her and shaking her head. She was still wearing her black dress but had, apparently, ditched the blazer – a decision he suspected she would come to regret as it was quite cool outside. Her stockings, he noticed, had a fresh run creeping down her thigh. He belatedly raised his eyebrows at her statement.

"I don't think I can relate." He roughly replied, intending his tone to be a warning. He wanted her to vacate his space. She was either ignoring him or too dense to notice this because instead of leaving she simply wrinkled her nose, laughed, and trotted up to stand beside him, likewise leaning on the railing.

"Nice view." She chirped. After a moment she cocked her head and contorted her lips, contemplatively. Bruce, defeated, stared into his swirling drink. "Can't see the stars, though." She remarked, soberly looking into the sky. The luminescence of the city below choked out the stars, leaving their ethereal little lights dim or dead. Bruce said nothing. He tracked her gaze up into the heavens. Her hair – colored richly like damp earth – was wild and unbound around her face. Shadows were still and delicate across her cheeks. His breath caught in his throat; he fervently wished for her to leave now.

"In Libya, I'd have to sit in the dirt, prone for hours just observing Hydra convoy movements." She turned her head to regale him, her eyes conspiratorial. "Sometimes, I would flip on my back and try to count the stars. I could never count them all, of course. Once, I even fell asleep." Her gaze went, once again, upward. Bruce found his words.

"I'm glad to know I'm in such capable hands." He bit, humorlessly. Her little smile faded and her dusky eyes fell from the edge of the atmosphere to his face. Bruce winced, guilt bleeding into his irritation. She wasn't playing games with him, he realized. She was just trying to be nice. "I didn't mean-" He stammered, struggling to finish the apology. It felt so unfair. He wanted to be mean to her but she made it very hard.

"I'm glad we have a moment alone to talk, actually." She murmured quietly from behind the curtain of her curls.

"Actually, I was just having a moment alone. You're the one who decided to make it a moment alone to talk." He retorted, allowing a touch of warmth to seep into his cynical little jest. Much to his relief and satisfaction, she relinquished a small laugh. Apparently, Amira was quick to forgive. He glanced at her once more and she appeared to be thinking very hard about what to say next.

"Did Tony put you up to this?" He sighed. She was rigid and her eyes reflected the full moon that night with their impossible roundness.

"What? Uh- No." She acted with false incredulity. Bruce fought a smile. "No, I was just- I had thought that-" She sputtered wringing her hands and peering at just about everything except for Bruce. He shook his head and an imperceptible smirk played on his lips.

"I thought spies were supposed to be good liars." At this, Amira sighed and bowed her head.

"I guess I've come to rely on my abilities. You don't have to lie to someone who doesn't know you're there." She confessed. Her fingers raked through her hair, sweeping it back. She hummed a sigh and parted her lips to speak. "You know, I meant what I said today," Bruce's eyes narrowed and his eyebrows knit, "about it being an honor to meet you. I wasn't just kissing your ass." His eyebrows shot up at her frankness.

"Oh?" He croaked, not wanting to reveal his lust for her explanation.

"I mean, I had the decency to at least do a cursory google search of your achievements." She playfully rolled her eyes at him. "I read your dissertation on cancer cell reduction through the use of gamma radiation." He was impressed and he hesitantly allowed her to know that by way of his close-mouthed grin.

"You read it? All of it?"

"It was a long flight." She shrugged. "Pretty inspiring stuff though." Bruce chuckled at this but his laughter was swollen with something dark.

"That paper got me my position at Desert Base." He said bitterly. "I was quite the idealist back then." The spectrum of lights before them reflected off of his glasses, distorting them into a flashing and swirling mosaic. He looked listless and sad as he watched the now chilled tea slosh in his mug. Amira's eyes held a sort of pent up desire to act in some way, he could tell. He had been given that look many a time by people pondering on the hopelessness of what he truly was. He took it upon himself to answer her unasked question.

How did it happen?

"If they had let me continue my research on the medical applications of gamma radiation we may have never met." He rasped. His voice like a rope that had been stretched past it's limits.

"You would be married. Happy. Human." He reminded himself. He shook his head and cursed. "Push it down. Push it down." He couldn't be sane if he allowed himself to linger on his regret.

"But my research wasn't earning them anything. I let myself give up. I kowtowed to their demands for me to move into weapons research." He scratched his chin and continued. "I built a really big bomb. The kind that could wipe an entire city off of the map and leave no trace. We were testing it and..." He never liked to tell this part of the story. When he tried to recall what happened all he could retrieve was a brief sequence of seering white light and pain that ripped him apart. He felt something akin to it every time he changed.

"The rest is history?" She finished, her voice a shred of a whisper. He nodded.

"The rest is history." He repeated. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She was always toying with her hair, it seemed to him. She cleared her throat.

"I can see why you have trust issues." Amira remarked. Bruce willed himself to be offended at her comment but he wasn't inclined to fool himself. She was right. And as long as she wasn't trying to simper her apologies at him he was content.

"Is it that obvious?" He joked, trying to relieve the tension. Thankfully, she cracked a smile and when he saw it, to his surprise, he smiled too. They stood staring at one another. Both leaning against the railing and neither knowing what to say. Amira ran a hand over her arm, which was only protected by the cap sleeve of her dress. Bruce could spot the gooseflesh there. It was just as he had predicted.

"You're cold?" His remark was somewhere between a question and an acknowledgment.

"A little."

He took two steps to the door and opened it, beckoning her to follow. The warmth of the building enveloped them and he felt suddenly very sleepy. His work could wait. The weighty conversation they had just had made Bruce feel strange. He set his mug down -it's contents untouched – on the bar of the lounge and cleared his throat.

"I think I'm going to turn in for the night." He stiffly informed the other occupant of the room. Amira had taken the few steps up to the table where they had all met and was curiously examining the white lilies in the vase.

"Good idea." Came the distracted reply. She straightened herself out and joined Dr. Banner. He pressed the button and they waited in silence. Amira continued to will warmth back into her extremities by rubbing them up and down. Bruce watched her and found himself wishing that she was taking a different elevator down, despite the cathartic conversation they shared.

When, at last, the lift came they both stepped in succinctly.

"Which floor?" He asked, glancing down at her.

"Seventy-secondth." She chirped.

"Huh." He pondered outloud, eyebrows quizzical.

"Something wrong?" He pressed the button.

"Same as mine." He intoned. The doors of the elevator shut.


It wasn't as if there were very many floors dedicated to guest housing. No, in fact there were five floors. Not many at all, or was it actually quite a lot for this kind of building? He didn't know but it did strike Bruce as an odd coincidence that they were on the same floor. Amira walked beside him down the hall, struggling to keep up with his long strides. The run in her stocking, he observed, had progressed from her thigh down to her knee. This irritated him somehow. Why hadn't she found her room yet?

"Well, this is me." She stood in front of her door. Bruce nodded with wry realization as she procured her key card from the small sewn in pocket of her dress. "Thanks for walking me to my door." She teased.

"Thanks for walking me to mine." He smoothly replied, finding his own keycard and turning to the door just across from hers. Her nose crinkled like it had before and a smile gathered at the corners of her mouth. Bruce's distress flared at her habitual nose crinkling.

"Oh, we're neighbors." She cheered. "I guess it makes sense that we are arranged this closely" She voiced what Bruce had put together minutes before. He cursed Tony.

"I suppose so." He croaked out of politeness. His card slid through the reader and the lock clicked.

"Good night, Dr. Banner." She offered.

"Call me Bruce." He said, more to his door than to her.

"Good night, Bruce." He turned his head and there she stood, looking sincere with her wild hair.

"Good night, Amira." He replied. Then he stepped into his room and shut the door soundly behind him, relieved.


I hope you liked their little talk. Until next week.