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'nother 12-character Meme ficlet: The Other Guy (Natasha & Bruce, MCU)
Twelve-Character Meme #9: [1-Natasha Romanoff] sees [4-James Bond] with [8-Raylan Givens] and knows that [8-Raylan] is involved with [6-Bruce Banner]. Does [1-Natasha] tell [6-Bruce] that [8-Raylan] is cheating or does [6-Bruce] deserve to find out on his own?
Title: The Other Guy
Rating: G
Fandoms: Mostly MCU (Bruce Banner and Natasha Romanoff), but with characters mentioned from Justified and the Bond Series, so, technically, a crossover
Author’s Note: I went for a prompt to get my Mini Na No words in today because I really, really wasn’t feeling it and thought I’d be better off messing up one of these than the Sam^2 sequel I was hoping to finish today. Given that, I am surprisingly happy with this. It’s cracky of necessity from the prompt, but I think I must've been itching to explore the Natasha/Bruce dynamic without noticing I was. As is usual for these things, not betaed, not mine, and not for profit.
“So...” Natasha trailed off awkwardly, distracted by the cockroach in in the jar she’d apparently picked up. She stared at it for a long moment, reasoning that anyone would, given that it was three-headed and remarkably feisty for something labeled “preserved specimen.” Very deliberately (and cautiously), she placed it back on the lab bench.
It flung itself at the side of the jar, and she winced.
“It’s secure.” Bruce gestured at it with a chicken wing. ”Transparent aluminium specimen jars are a must for collecting gamma-irradiated insects.”
There were twenty more jars behind the one she’d picked up. Natasha didn’t look at any of them.
“Thank you for these,” He said gesturing at the rest of the wings with the one in his hand. “I’m pretty sure I missed breakfast.”
“It’s 8 pm,” she said, not at all relieved to hear her usual cool tone. Not much, anyway.
He cocked his head a bit. “That would explain a lot. I swear Tony designed the labs to give no indication of time passage--like casinos.”
“Also no easy way out,” Natasha supplied.
“Exactly.” Bruce wiped at his mouth with a napkin, nothing left on the plate but bones.
“Not that those weren’t delicious, but you don’t usually...” He peered at her intently for the first time since she’d arrived, and obviously didn’t like what he saw. He drew up straight but visibly stopped himself from closing the distance between them. “What’s wrong?”
In for a Ruple... “How serious are things with you and Marshall Givens?” It came out nice and casual, just the way she’d wanted her voice.
Bruce raised an eyebrow at her, and she shrugged. He hadn’t seriously expected her not to know, had he?
Cautiously, Bruce said, “Serious enough,” watching her closely.
Considering her question carefully, Natasha asked “Serious as in ‘we’re getting to know each other and I think I like him’ or serious as in ‘I’m going to turn into a giant green rage monster if anyone looks lustfully at my boyfriend’?” She could do subtle, but it wasn’t really her natural setting.
Bruce eyed her speculatively, not moving at all.
Actually, he seemed to be waiting for something, and after a while, he looked down at his watch. More to the room than to her, he said, “You know, after about 120 seconds, the effects of hypoxia actually start to set in.”
Cursing under her breath, Natasha resumed breathing.
“You came down here to tell me Raylan’s seeing someone on the side, didn’t you?” He seemed calm. Steady.
He always seemed calm until he didn’t. Natasha nodded and kept watching.
“Because you think you can control the situation if it goes...” Bruce should trademark the grimace he makes. “...badly.” It wasn’t quite a question; Natasha wasn’t really sure what it was.
She didn’t respond.
He smiled, and it looked like it hurt. “Because you couldn‘t ask anyone else, and you couldn’t risk my finding out with civilians around.”
It’s even less a question this time, but she nods.
“So you decided the best way to find out if it was going to be a problem was to ply me with Frank’s Red-Hot,” he paused for breath and brought his eyes up to hers, “and just come out with it after locking yourself in a highly-reinforced room with me?”
He doesn’t seem to realize he’s taken a step toward her.
“I decided,” Natasha said, standing her ground, “that if you didn’t take my arms off, you and I could get plotty.”
Bruce’s confusion is easy to read on his suddenly slack face. “You... what?”
“Raylan’s new friend,” Natasha said, warming up now that it seemed increasingly likely the Other Guy wasn’t going to put in an appearance. “I don’t like him.”
Sputtering, Bruce started to ask, “Why don’t you...” but interrupted himself. “Nevermind. I don’t like him either.” Bruce crossed his arms and leaned back against the lab table. “Who is he?”
She hopped up on the table next to him, companionably close. “An arrogant british MI-6 arse named James Bond.”
“Professional association?”
She fixed him with a level stare. “Does it matter?”
“Nope.”
Title: The Other Guy
Rating: G
Fandoms: Mostly MCU (Bruce Banner and Natasha Romanoff), but with characters mentioned from Justified and the Bond Series, so, technically, a crossover
Author’s Note: I went for a prompt to get my Mini Na No words in today because I really, really wasn’t feeling it and thought I’d be better off messing up one of these than the Sam^2 sequel I was hoping to finish today. Given that, I am surprisingly happy with this. It’s cracky of necessity from the prompt, but I think I must've been itching to explore the Natasha/Bruce dynamic without noticing I was. As is usual for these things, not betaed, not mine, and not for profit.
“So...” Natasha trailed off awkwardly, distracted by the cockroach in in the jar she’d apparently picked up. She stared at it for a long moment, reasoning that anyone would, given that it was three-headed and remarkably feisty for something labeled “preserved specimen.” Very deliberately (and cautiously), she placed it back on the lab bench.
It flung itself at the side of the jar, and she winced.
“It’s secure.” Bruce gestured at it with a chicken wing. ”Transparent aluminium specimen jars are a must for collecting gamma-irradiated insects.”
There were twenty more jars behind the one she’d picked up. Natasha didn’t look at any of them.
“Thank you for these,” He said gesturing at the rest of the wings with the one in his hand. “I’m pretty sure I missed breakfast.”
“It’s 8 pm,” she said, not at all relieved to hear her usual cool tone. Not much, anyway.
He cocked his head a bit. “That would explain a lot. I swear Tony designed the labs to give no indication of time passage--like casinos.”
“Also no easy way out,” Natasha supplied.
“Exactly.” Bruce wiped at his mouth with a napkin, nothing left on the plate but bones.
“Not that those weren’t delicious, but you don’t usually...” He peered at her intently for the first time since she’d arrived, and obviously didn’t like what he saw. He drew up straight but visibly stopped himself from closing the distance between them. “What’s wrong?”
In for a Ruple... “How serious are things with you and Marshall Givens?” It came out nice and casual, just the way she’d wanted her voice.
Bruce raised an eyebrow at her, and she shrugged. He hadn’t seriously expected her not to know, had he?
Cautiously, Bruce said, “Serious enough,” watching her closely.
Considering her question carefully, Natasha asked “Serious as in ‘we’re getting to know each other and I think I like him’ or serious as in ‘I’m going to turn into a giant green rage monster if anyone looks lustfully at my boyfriend’?” She could do subtle, but it wasn’t really her natural setting.
Bruce eyed her speculatively, not moving at all.
Actually, he seemed to be waiting for something, and after a while, he looked down at his watch. More to the room than to her, he said, “You know, after about 120 seconds, the effects of hypoxia actually start to set in.”
Cursing under her breath, Natasha resumed breathing.
“You came down here to tell me Raylan’s seeing someone on the side, didn’t you?” He seemed calm. Steady.
He always seemed calm until he didn’t. Natasha nodded and kept watching.
“Because you think you can control the situation if it goes...” Bruce should trademark the grimace he makes. “...badly.” It wasn’t quite a question; Natasha wasn’t really sure what it was.
She didn’t respond.
He smiled, and it looked like it hurt. “Because you couldn‘t ask anyone else, and you couldn’t risk my finding out with civilians around.”
It’s even less a question this time, but she nods.
“So you decided the best way to find out if it was going to be a problem was to ply me with Frank’s Red-Hot,” he paused for breath and brought his eyes up to hers, “and just come out with it after locking yourself in a highly-reinforced room with me?”
He doesn’t seem to realize he’s taken a step toward her.
“I decided,” Natasha said, standing her ground, “that if you didn’t take my arms off, you and I could get plotty.”
Bruce’s confusion is easy to read on his suddenly slack face. “You... what?”
“Raylan’s new friend,” Natasha said, warming up now that it seemed increasingly likely the Other Guy wasn’t going to put in an appearance. “I don’t like him.”
Sputtering, Bruce started to ask, “Why don’t you...” but interrupted himself. “Nevermind. I don’t like him either.” Bruce crossed his arms and leaned back against the lab table. “Who is he?”
She hopped up on the table next to him, companionably close. “An arrogant british MI-6 arse named James Bond.”
“Professional association?”
She fixed him with a level stare. “Does it matter?”
“Nope.”
::Laughs delightedly::
Re: ::Laughs delightedly::
James, OTOH... I think Natasha needed to get Bruce involved to make sure James didn't enjoy whatever she chooses to do to him too much.
Assuming she isn't making her end up entirely just to spend some time working on her issues with Bruce.