I hope you guys like this chapter. Things are progressing faster then I thought they would. I sometimes feel very helpless, as I worry that I am failing at writing Bruce. Maybe you guys can give me some tips haha. Enjoy.
I have some fanart for Amira as drawn by myself and my talented little cousin. Can anyone pm me for the best way to get that to you guys? Ffnet doesn't allow links to anything. If you want to see it, look for this story on AO3. Same username, same title. It will be attached to chapter eight.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing of Marvels.
Chapter Eight - The Lightning Bolts Dance
"So? Tell me how it was! You barely said anything in your texts." Aaron whispered as he hurriedly pulled her aside. His quin jet idly roared on the helipad as Tony argued with his underlings about how his equipment was being loaded aboard it. Steve stood by looking bored, his well muscled arms crossed, threatening to rip his short shirt sleeves to shreds. Bruce was just stepping out onto the helipad looking professorial in a tweed jacket.
"I mean- It went okay." She coyly replied, fighting the urge to absolutely grin when she thought of Steve Rogers enthusiastically adding her movie recommendation to his notebook. "But what about you? New flightsuit! New ride! Lookin' good." She cried. Aaron grabbed the collar of his suit with both hands and did his best impression of a stoic war hero. Amira swatted his arm and they both giggled like children. After enjoying a mirthful fraternal moment Aaron sighed and removed his sunglasses and gave her a knowing look. She withdrew her hands into the sleaves of her blue hoodie.
"'Mira, I know you think complimenting me is going to get you out of telling me about yesterday." Amira immediately deflated. For a moment, she comtemplated looking indignant but she knew it was no use. "It wasn't horrible was it?" He asked.
"It was obviously a crazy experience." She relented. "These are the people that saved our planet." She shrugged and opened her mouth, though she was unable to add any other details.
"Well, I can see you are already comfortable enough around them to wear your grody sweats around the tower." He pointed to her worn gray workout sweatpants. She smacked his hand away, looking justifiably indignant now.
"They are for utility not looks, Aaron. You would understand that if you ever tried to do a proper arm bar in seersucker." She hissed. Aaron reeled back in disgust.
"Amira, don't be obscene. I would never wear seersucker this early in Spring." Came the aristocratic reply
"Oh my God." She gagged. "Who raised you?"
"You." He smirked at her.
"Then I am truly sorry."
"Don't be. I came out amazing."
As Amira was about to argue the contrary when Tony swaggered up to them. She could smell the rich leather of his jacket mingling with his cologne which was, no doubt, very expensive.
"Hey, Top Gun." Said Tony, more ordering than greeting. Aaron pointed to himself, his expression questioning. "Yes, you. Can you fly that thing smoothly?" The rakish pilot allowed a cocky smile to compliment his features.
"Yes, sir."
"There are a lot of my favorite toys on board. They are very finely tuned and very expensive." Tony gave him a pointed look, his head forward and his eyes up.
"Aaron could fly a balsa wood glider through a hurricane." Amira begrudgingly admitted. Aaron's head didn't need to swell anymore but she had to give credit where credit was due. He beamed at her praise and raised a hand as if to say 'you heard the lady.'
"Excellent!" Tony hollered. And with that he bat the chassis of the quin jet twice. Aaron cringed. "Let's get this party started!" He pulled his Bono-esque sunglasses out of his shirt collar and wore them as if they were made for his face. Amira contemplated the possibility that they may have actually been made for his face. Aaron gave her an excited eyebrow wiggle and then swung himself up into the cockpit. Amira turned to grab her duffel bag but was hindered when she collided with Bruce Banner.
"Good morning." He said, surprised by her clumsy greeting.
"Good morning to you. Sorry about that." She brightly replied as she circumvented him to grab her bag.
"No harm done." He intoned as he smoothed down the front of the crisp pale blue shirt beneath his jacket. He looked exhausted but Amira thought that the dissheveled look worked greatly in his favor. His hair was not outrageously out of sorts but it had appeared to have been run through with his hands over and over. They stood before eachother and Bruce appeared to have something on his mind but he wouldn't betray his thoughts with a single word. The moment became awkward.
"Are you ready?" Amira asked, more playful that challenging.
"Are you?" Bruce countered. Amira cocked her head. Now there was a challenge issued.
"You don't seem to think so." She retorted, her tone mischievious. She had decided to experiment with calling him out on his sarcasm.
"No offense, Amira," He looked around, a smirk folding the corners of his mouth, "but no one has ever been ready for this mess." He gestured to himself. She looked puzzled.
"Tony said we weren't going the full Monty." She exclaimed. Bruce scoffed and opened his mouth to speak but before he could say a word the aforementioned genius's head darted out of the back of the quin jet.
"Hey! Are you two going to sit there and girl talk all day or are you going to get in?" Tony shouted over the thunderous engine sound. Amira blushed. Bruce gave her a double take.
"Can I get that for you?" He stuttered, pointing to her duffel bag. She shook her head.
"No thanks. I got it." Amira, used to helping herself, thought nothing of her refusal. Bruce thought nothing of it as well, apparently. He just shrugged and gestured for her to lead on. She traipsed up the ramp and into the interior. The inside was dark and welcoming to someone like Amira, who had lived been mothered by the military for all of her adult life. The fuselage was steel-ribbed and lined with eight seats – four on each side. The floor hummed beneath her feet and she inhaled deeply the signature smell of oil and gunmetal. The combination of these things always put Amira on edge in an incredible, almost sensuous way. It was like sharpening one's blade before mortal combat and she loved it.
"Hey, kid." Clint's voice shook her loose of her reverie. She reciprocated his greeting with a grin and an exclamation of surprise. "D'you miss Libya yet?" He joked and gave her a good-natured cuff on the arm. He had those warm crinkling eyes and genuine smile he wore without care for his reputation for being an expert killer.
"Oh yes, Clint. Especially the biting gadflies." She replied, very obviously glad to be back in New York. She'd traversed across the Middle East, the Balkans, and North Africa for years without ever setting foot back in America. They congenially traded information about how the efforts in Africa were going until Clint had to excuse himself to the cockpit. Before she found her own seat she exchanged a civil, if not terse, greeting with Natasha who lounged in her spot and surveyed all with her feline gaze.
Amira hefted her bag into the trough-like compartment behind her chosen seat. Satisfied with it's arrangement, she sat and harnessed herself in. The aircraft growled with life anew as the engines were revved and tested for flight. She was seated between Dr. Banner and a large impossibly complex looking contraption which had been, quite comically, buckled into the spot next to hers. She looked at it and then looked around the cockpit to see if anyone else was as baffled as she about the oddity next to her. She turned to Bruce, who looked like he might pull out a flask to take a beleaguered sip from at any moment.
He noticed she was looking at him and he met her attention, seemingly confounded and slightly offended all at once when he discovered she was staring at him. She raised her eyebrows and tried to inconspicuously point at the machine lovingly fastened into the seat next to her. Bruce looked over her at the object in question.
"What is that." Amira whispered.
"I have no idea." He replied, also somewhat interested. "Probably some of the equipment that Tony wanted transported upstate."
"Or, like, maybe it's just a huge phone charger." She drolly joked.
"Hm, I don't think that's it." He responded dryly.
"-with a compartment for little martinis in the side, for if you have a low battery but you're also an alcoholic." She continued. When she looked back over at Bruce, he was smiling at her. It was a smile she had seen him wear repeatedly and she wasn't sure if it was mocking or genuine. He leaned over her slightly to get a closer look at the gadget.
"Actually," Bruce piped up, "I think it's some kind of compact storage ring – a type of particle accelerator." Amira snickered at his absurd suggestion but balked when she realized he wasn't kidding.
"Oh, you're serious!" She blurted. He nodded. "Is it safe?"
"Well, it's buckled in so-"
"No, I mean me. Am I safe sitting next to this thing?" He face was still adorned with that perplexing smile.
"That thing is technically capable of emitting electromagnetic radiation." He explained. Amira looked at the offending appliance in mild horror.
"But it needs a significant amount of power to function so you're probably fine." He finished.
"Oh." She replied, a long and drawn out realization as if she now understood the whole of nuclear physicism. "I feel much better now, thanks."
Amira liked to play it safe, however. She elected to scoot as far away from the particle accelerator as her harness would allow, just in case there were any left over electromagnetic waves waiting in there to irradiate her, or whatever they did. She was now torturously uncomfortable. Thankfully, the flight would be brief.
The seven of them – Steve, Tony, Clint, Natasha, Bruce, Aaron, and Amira – trudged away from the quin jet and towards the warehouse before them. A few employees in cover-alls sprinted over to retrieve the Tony's equipment. The sky seemed lower in this place. There were no great skyscrapers to hold it up, so it draped itself just over the trees. The facility itself was inconspicuous. A great white rectangular structure in a large clearing, with the usual Stark particulars – a chrome truss support here and some overly gigantic plate windows there. Tony guided them all to the doors which were, contrastly, small and low profile.
The interior of the warehouse as Amira expected it would be; sparsely decorated with old inventions and craftworks. On one side, the wall, which was entirely glass, was covered with massive metal shudders. Slivers of light washed through the cracks and speckled the floor. The rest of the room was cloaked in darkness. Tony strode over to a metal box fastened to the wall and flipped the large switch on the side. One by one, a dozen massive fluorescent lights flickered on and bathed the room in an icy hue. At the far end of the room there was an array of monitors and a control panel. Next to it, a huge, seemingly pointless object in the shape of a cube.
"Welcome. Make yourselves comfortable." Tony spoke. The Avengers crew followed Tony over to the control panel on the far side of the giant room. Bruce, carrying a hardcase, joined Tony at the helm of the it. Steve and Clint strode over to a few lonely looking lounge chairs and sat to chat quietly. Everyone was acting all 'business as usual'. Meanwhile, Aaron and Amira had no idea what was going on.
"Okay, I'll bite. What is it?" Amira broke the silence and gestured to the giant structure. Her voice was louder than she had expected it would be in the spacious room.
"This," Tony began, as he played his fingers at his work screen, "Is where we will be testing the Halo Cuffs. I thought we discussed this with you."
"I think she means the cage." Bruce murmured next to him, his voice gruff.
"The cage?" Amira squeaked.
"Dr. Banner and I have been trying to develop a Hulk proof containment unit." Tony explained. "Of course, we haven't tested it until today but I-"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Amira cut in, putting her hands up in almost a defensive manner. "I thought you said we weren't going the full Monty."
"Well, it's not the full Monty if he's in a containment unit, is it? That doesn't count." He reasoned, as if it were obvious. "Are you not ready for this?" Tony asked. Amira reeled and looked to Aaron, who gave her a purposeful look.
"N-no I mean- Look, I'm ready. I was just taken by surprise." She stuttered. Her breath was shaky but she wouldn't let them know it.
"Good. Feel free to find something to entertain yourself with. Bruce and I have to make some last-minute calibrations." Tony said, hunched over the buttons and switches.
"How long is it going to take?" Inquired Natasha from behind Aaron and Amira.
"It could be an hour- maybe more." Tony replied.
"Mizrahi." The Black Widow enunciated. Amira turned to her, at attention. Natasha let a viperous smile split her visage. "Come with me." Amira nodded, half afraid and half thrilled, and followed. She knew what that tone in the redhead's voice meant. It meant Amira was going to get her ass kicked.
"Now that you're on the team things might be more strenuous." Natasha began as she led Amira to a patch of even ground. "You're still sloppy, Mizrahi." Amira frowned and dropped her duffel bag on the grass.
"We don't have any gear, how are we supposed to train?" Amira asked as she knelt down to unzip her bag.
"We'll keep it simple with some sparring." She replied, unzipping her catsuit down the front, revealing her gray sports bra and shorts. Her skin was milk white and her stomach finely muscled. Amira looked up at her in disbelief as she rolled a handwrap around her wrist.
"We don't have head protection, Natasha."
"And you won't have it a real engagement. Stop being a girl about it and fight me." Natasha replied as she stepped out of her signature black suit.
Amira followed her lead, shrugging out of her hoodie. She wore a very simple black spandex tank top underneath it. She pulled a pair of olive drab canvas shorts out of her bag and held them under her arm as she peeled off her sweats. Her squeamishness for nudity had long gone during her career as an operative and she stood, unabashedly, in the middle of the clearing in only a tank top and panties. The shorts were pulled into place soon enough, however, and she felt exhilarated having dressed for battle.
"No holds barred." Natasha grunted as she fell into stance.
"Well, I mean, I'll try not to seriously maim or injure you." Amira shot back, hoping her overconfidence would outpace her lack of skill in comparison to Natasha.
"I'd like to see you try." And on the last word she lunged at Amira. The two clashed in a spectacle of beautiful violence. Of course, Amira realized that Natasha wasn't actually going to try to hurt her. But, as far as a spar went, it was pretty extreme in it's intensity. Amira could barely keep up with the other woman's speed and tenacity. Every time Natasha managed to best her, she would call out the killing blow.
When she swept her feet out from under her and pressed her forearm into Amira's throat: "Too slow. I asphyxiate you."
When she crawled up Amira like a vine, toppling her, and wrapped her thighs around the small woman's head: "Too slow. I break your neck."
When she Judo threw Amira to the ground: "Too slow. I fracture your skull with my boot."
Amira got up after being knocked down several times. Her body felt like it have been run through a grinding mill. There were grass stains and fresh bruises coloring her skin. She wouldn't quit, though. These training sessions never ended until Natasha said so, anyway. Amira rolled her head and shoulders and raised her fists one more time.
"Ouch." Steve winced as Amira was knocked to the ground once more. The metal shade covering the gigantic plate glass had been lifted and Steve, Clint, and Aaron had amused themselves for some time watching the two women thrash each other.
"Yeah, the kid's getting' worked." Clint declared as he crossed his arms.
"I have to root for her – she's my sister – but she isn't making it easy." Aaron commented.
"Steve would know all about that kind of thing, he's a Mets fan." Clint taunted.
"Watch it, Barton." The Captain warned. Tony and Bruce strolled over to join them.
"What are you guys- damn! Wow, I felt that." Tony yowled. Amira had been thrown into the dirt and twisted into an arm bar. "Why didn't you say there was a fight sooner? I always want to watch a fight." He continued, whining.
"Is she going to be able to walk after that?" asked Bruce.
"She'll be fine. Nat's not hitting her hard." Clint answered.
"Y'know, I've seen girls fight before. Well, it was more like wrestling. And it was in an inflatable pool full of Dom Perignon." Tony idly mused. Amira delivered a mean blow to Natasha's solar plexus. "This is nothing like that, though." He concluded.
"Are we ready to get started, by the way?" Aaron inquired of Bruce.
"Yeah, yeah. We could put that off and just watch this until one of them passes out." Tony took the liberty of answering for him.
"Well, I'm going to rain on everyone's parade and save my sister from further abuse." Audible groans of disappointment erupted from Clint and Tony.
After dodging a flurry of fists and flying elbows from Natasha, Amira kicked on her mutant powers. She refused to go this whole fight without knocking Natasha down at least once. With her mental tendrils she probed for a weak spot in Natasha's focus, but the woman's mind was a veritable bastille. She blocked a kick from the Widow with her forearm and retaliated by grabbing her leg and using her body weight to twist them both into the dirt.
There was the gap.
Amira felt Natasha's concentration break when her body thumped into the ground. And then she was gone. The redhead smirked with realization.
"That isn't very fair." She crooned in a sing song voice. As soon as the words left her mouth she was tackled from behind and forced into a skillful submission hold.
"You did say it was supposed to be like a real fight." Amira panted from her perch on Natasha's back. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and allowed herself to feel triumphant for a moment.
"Alright, alright. You can get off me now." Natasha groaned. "You sure are heavy for someone so small." Amira rolled off of her and reclined in the grass, her hands behind her, supporting her.
The two women looked up when they heard Tony Stark slow-clapping. He approached with the rest of the team following.
"Ladies, that was really something." He dramatically announced. "It was both sexy and terrifying."
"Is that you offering to go next?" Natasha said, her eyes flashing. Tony recoiled. Amira laughed at her threat. Natasha pretty much embodied sexy and terrifying.
"God, no. I need my face in tact, thank you." He said. "Besides, I get all the ass-kicking I need from Pepper."
"You're getting better." Aaron said as he offered his sister a hand up from her sitting position.
"You think so? I don't feel like I've gotten better. I feel like I've been trampled by a pissed off horse." She retorted as he helped her up.
"I think that's what progress feels like." He joked. "Come on inside, I think we're ready to get this show on the road."
She was standing before the containment unit, sizing it up, when Bruce approached her with a bottle of water and a towel. She thanked him quietly and slung the towel over her shoulder and opened the water with a crack. With a moan, she savored the cool liquid and let it soothe her dry throat. Her body was sore and bruised and it felt like an accomplishment. She brandished the towel and wiped at her dirt smeared face as she contemplated the mammoth cage.
"It'll probably hold up." Bruce murmured. "It's lined with Adamantium." Amira choked on a mouthful of water. Bruce eyed her as she struggled to swallow. She pounded on her chest with a fist and coughed a few times before looking at him, shocked.
"How thick?" She asked, in disbelief.
"Two and a half inches."
"Holy hell." She croaked. "That can not have been cheap."
"No kidding." He rubbed his hands together, seemingly with nothing more to say. "Oh." He dug into his jacket pocket and retrieved her Halo. She took it and turned it over in her hand. It felt solid and well made. Embossed in the exterior was her first name. "The data collected is specific to both of us. Now we won't lose track of which one is which." She raised her eyebrows, impressed. She slipped it around her wrist and fastened the clasp, letting the side with the inlaid square rest on her outer wrist. It felt odd, and ill-fitting on her arm.
"The read-out goes on the other side." He raised his own arm for her perusal. The side with the inlaid square rested on the flesh of his wrist, beneath his palm. She unclasped her own cuff and set it right on her arm. It felt perfect, like it was apart of her. Her lips parted and her brow furrowed as she noticed the strange sensation the cuff gave her. Very faintly, just under the square 'read-out' she could feel a tiny electrical twinge on the tender skin of her wrist. It such a gentle pulsation that she hardly noticed it if she didn't think about it. Slowly, rhythmically, it beat against her. She brought the bracelet up to her ear in an attempt to sort out the source of the feeling.
"Oh good. You feel it. I guess that means everything is functioning properly." He said, sounding more tired than ever.
"What is it?" She marveled, continuing to investigate the cuff.
"It's my pulse. Over two hundred beats per minute and the feeling will be more intense. It's supposed to give you a jump on things if I start to lose it. Advance warning." He enunciated.
"You don't seem like the kind of guy that would appreciate any breach of privacy, even in regards to something as insignificant as your heart rate." She stated lightly.
"You're exactly right, but as The Rolling Stones once said: You can't always get what you want." He said as he ran his hands through his hair, displacing it.
"Ah yes, the great philosopher Mick Jagger. Have you heard his opinions on satisfaction and being perpetually unable to acquire it?" She pontificated. He gave her a good-natured scolding look over his glasses for her silly joke. After a moment of comfortable silence he spoke.
"I guess we should get started then. We'll first start off-" Bruce was cut off by Tony and Steve marching over hastily.
"No time. We have a problem." Tony said exigently. "Cap, tell 'em."
"We just received a distress signal from a military base. Their comms must have been tampered with because we haven't been getting any response via radio. All we know is that there have been several explosions." Steve explained.
"So let the American government deal with it. It doesn't sound like it concerns us." Bruce cut in crossing his arms.
"Normally, we would leave it to them but the distress call came from Desert Base, Bruce." Tony continued. "There might be more going on than just a couple of explosions. There have been reports of something else skulking around- something behind the explosions." Bruce's nostrils flared and his stare bore into Tony's. She could see his jaw clenching, the muscles there working furiously. Amira looked between them and her heart seized when she realized that she may be seeing the Hulk very up close and personal today. The full Monty. And to think it was only her second day as an Avenger.
What could it be, hmm? I really hope you guys like the scene between Amira and Natasha. I think they are both like good girlfriends, just girlfriends that kick each other's asses instead of going to brunch and gossiping.