sixwordstories | (no subject)

Blonsky.....feel like hitting something for me?

Maybe. [He's trying not to look interested. Hardly anyone asks him to hit things these days.]

[Phil leans forward a hard smile on his face.]

A man named Ian Quinn needs to die and I want you to make it painful.

[Okay, now Phil has his full and undivided attention. He slides so he's sitting upright in his chair, leaning forward even.]

What's my return when I do?

You get out under my supervision...play nice after that for another six months and you're free. Sweet enough deal for you?

Deliver that in writing along with all the intel you have on the guy. I'll do the rest.

[Phil pulls out a folder and a pen. He tosses them on the table.]

Everything you need is in there...just need your John Hancock.

[His eyebrows raise up, but he picks up the papers and gives them a thorough reading. He doesn't want any easy loopholes getting by him. After a few minutes he picks up the pen and starts signing. His tone is calm, businesslike.]

Obviously, I expect some basic equipment and cooperation.

[without stopping his work on the clear touchscreen in front of him]

I don't suppose there's another workspace you could sit and sulk in?

[Bruce knowing full well the answer is probably no.]

[He practically rolls his eyes. No, there isn't another place, and trust him, he'd be there even if it was an empty room. So, just to be annoying, he kicks back and props his impeccably shining boots onto the edge of a desk.]

...nice...thank you.

[No frustration in his words, Bruce isn't one to rise to being baited as easily as he used to be.

What he really can't believe is that Blonsky was sent to him, of all people, to do some DNA testing and bloodwork. Someone definitely missed the fact that they don't get along well. Ever.]

[Sent, but not without some insurance. Beneath his sleeves there are two arm guards that are ready at a moment's notice to knock him out if he starts giving some real trouble for Bruce.

When Bruce doesn't rise to the low-hanging bait, he simply removes his boots from the desk, making certain not to scuff them as he sets them back on the floor.]

[There's a glance or two from Bruce in silence, veiled concern and worry in each one. Finally, he steps from the screen to a small tray of instruments, one of which a syringe to draw blood. Now's when he wishes he could pass this off to another person. Or one of Stark's robots.

Does he really want to be approaching this man with a sharp object? Bruce hesitates at a distance, syringe in hand.]

[Blonsky gives a wary glance to Bruce and then the syringe before emitting a heavy sigh. The syringe is empty, he'll cooperate with that at least. He rolls up a sleeve, revealing the blinking arm band as he pulls the fabric up high enough to provide access to one of his easily identifiable veins while he grumbles.]

How long is this going to take?

[The arm band is something of a surprise, not a pleasant one really. Bruce stares at it, suddenly more uncomfortable with the idea of being tied to one than not. He gives himself a mental shake before replying.]

Uh...not long. ['I hope' is not spoken aloud but Bruce doesn't want this to be any longer than it had to be. He steps up with a tourniquet and ties it around his upper arm with slow deliberation of approaching an armed bomb.

The similarity is not lost on Bruce.]

[Blonsky's trying his best to ignore the fact that he's collared, but Bruce's stares don't help him any. He sits still long enough to let the scientist tie the tourniquet around his arm, but then he snaps out his hand and wraps it around Bruce's wrist. The grip isn't crushing, but the barely restrained strength behind it indicates that could very quickly change. He leans in toward Bruce with a dark snarl on his face and growls lowly.]

You start pulling that shit on me too, I'll finally give them a reason to turn the bloody things on. [And then in an instant he's letting go before the bracers can be activated.]

[This was what he was worried about.

Bruce doesn't move when grabbed, syringe in one hand and the other in a tightly controlled fist. There may be a flicker of green behind his glasses but nothing else to give him away. If there was anyone watching the video feed for the room (and Bruce hopes SOMEONE hasn't left them unsupervised) they are probably holding their breath right about now. He leans back out of Blonsky's space the moment he's let go. A sigh as he removes his glasses to put them aside.]

Yeah, this was a great idea.

[And he'd love to speak to the person who decided on it.

By speak, he means give them a piece of his mind.]

[He leans back in his chair, a snarl on his face as he looks away to let Bruce do whatever it is he needs to draw the blood.]

Sure as hell wasn't mine. [Not that he'd love another chance to throw down with the Hulk, but this is not the place he wants to actually start something.]

[Bruce watches as if to be sure there wasn't going to be another dangerous outburst, wondering what Shield would say if he told them no.

...and yet, as a scientist, how could he say no to being able to look at this man's DNA?]

If you'd rather do it yourself...? [Bruce is more than happy to hand over the syringe. He doesn't let anyone else draw his own blood anyway.]

Do I look like a nurse? [He snaps his head around to glare back at Bruce before turning away again. Clearly he'd rather have Bruce get this over with. Blonsky knows how to use emergency medical supplies, but he's never had to draw blood and Bruce can probably get it done faster, as well as on the first try.]

[What they really needed was to have a calm, workable situation. Bruce ignores the anger he'd rather be expressing at this stupid situation and puts his hands up in a placating gesture that hopefully conveys I'm not here to hurt you.]

Okay....just keep your arm still...

[Bruce finds a vein easily on the soldier's arm.]

...lie back and think of England or whatever. [It's an offand comment, meant to hopefully distract from the fact he's got a needle in his arm.]

[Blonsky turns his head back again to look at Bruce, though this time the motion is slow, almost like he's not certain he heard him correctly. He gives him a perplexed look, but then settles into his chair again, making certain to keep his arm still as instructed.]

Remind me later to kick your ass after I finish with whoever set up this mess.

[Surprisingly, a smile curves one side of Bruce's face, him keeping his eyes on his work. Everyone here, Stark aside, always walked on eggshells around him. This was the exact opposite.]

Sure. I'll get right on that.

[After he analyzes this DNA. And gets very far away from anything breakable. Like buildings.

Bruce finishes up drawing the blood, putting a piece of gauze at his elbow and letting Blonsky hold that while he shakes the vial of red liquid. Getting up to put it into a machine next to the computer.]

[There's not even a bead of blood when the needle is withdrawn, but he holds the gauze in place for a moment anyway. While Bruce goes off to do whatever it is he does, Blonsky takes a moment to note the speed with which he's already healed. Something minor like that is almost instantly dealt with by his freakish system, and he doesn't get many opportunities to witness it in action.

He's already studied the room from his chair, but he's not about to move from it. A clear threat from SHIELD's best told him not to leave the chair or he'd wake up with a beard again. That doesn't mean he can't crane his neck a bit to watch Bruce, which he does. He wants to know what's being done with his blood.]

[Bruce works okay with pressure on him, but this was ridiculous. At least, he's keeping on his side of the room, so he has room to work. The computer is state of the art, so when he puts the vial of blood into it, it's already analyzing what would take him days in a regular lab and slightly longer on his own with a microscope in a third world country.

The computer screen lights up with red blood cells floating in a colorless liquid. Each one tinged with spots of green....and something else. Bruce puts his glasses back on, dialing up the zoom as he peers at the screen, curious despite himself. There were faint stripes running through each red blood cell, a darker brown color.]