Affairs of the Arc Reactor (DarkledMind and Eli)

[DarkledMind]

Tony's eyes widened and he entered the elevator. He stuffed his hands into his pockets nervously. Shit. All of the files in JARVIS were open when they left. That could cause some serious problems. His throat was mildly dry. "JARVIS, if the phone is still on then shut it off remotely. Also contact the restaurant and see if Salt can go and pick it up at some point today." Just by saying those things, Tony relaxed a little. The worst he could think of happening was the paparazzi getting a hold of some of his private information.


"Right-O, sir."


Tony paused at the odd affirmation from JARVIS. He puzzled his brow even further. "Have you been watching Stephen Fry again?"


"Just trying to acclimate my accent appropriately, sir." Tony snorted and rolled his eyes at the AI.

 

[Eli]

Bruce stepped into the elevator and leaned against the rail, arms automatically wrapping around his chest. The witty exchange between artificial intelligence and inventor was only acknowledged by Bruce peripherally. Stark's technology was advanced; it would probably be simple to shut the phone off, and even then security protocols were likely already in place. He needn't be concerned about his files being discovered. Despite his efforts he felt impatience and anxiety tugging persistently at his brain and a small frown twisted his lips. Bruce was a firm believer, taught by past experience, that if something could go wrong, it probably would. The idea of even one Momofuku employee looking at his files didn't bode particularly well with him.


He stared at a spot on the elevator floor, silent, before shaking himself from his thoughts. Tony had already issued sufficient orders; not much else could be done. Eventually the elevator slowed in its smooth descent, and Bruce lifted his gaze from the polished floor.


"Uh." He blinked. Food. Right. "... I can cook. Instead of Bagel Bites."


He offered because he needed to keep his hands busy; his brain was buzzing now, and he wasn't entirely willing to sit idly, thinking about the phone, while waiting for processed frozen food to pop out of the oven.

 

[DarkledMind]

Tony smiled. "Okay, I am craving a soy latte and a Texas funeral cake. You think you can manage that?" He laughed jovially and pat his friend on the shoulder. The idea of Bruce cooking for him made a smile naturally come over his face. Even when he and Pepper were together, he usually cooked for the two of them. His throat tightened up again, and he made the same rubbing motion on his trachea as before.


He waltzed out of the elevator and began cleaning off his shirt of the construction debris. He should have done that before so he wouldn't have to vacuum later. "What do you have in mind? I can tell you what is in the fridge." He persistently swiped and plucked at his shirt, but the fine white powder didn't come out of his dark shirt. He scowled and rolled his eyes, dismissing it.

 

[Eli]

Bruce chuckled, "Nah, I was thinking of avoiding any sugar highs." He didn't waver under Tony's hand, and returned the man's smile with a small one of his own. They stepped out of the elevator, Tony trying to brush the dust off his shirt, and Bruce making a beeline for the sink. After pushing his crinkled, rolled-up sleeves further up his arms, he twisted the faucet until a modest stream of water poured out of it. He scrubbed his hands thoroughly, dousing them with hot water and plenty of soap. He glanced at his friend, who seemed about fed up with the futile attempt at cleaning the shirt.


"I was thinking something simple, if that's alright. Baleadas." He wiped his hands dry, and loosely folded the towel he used when he was done. Placing it on the counter, he continued, "Basic, but good. Had it a lot in Honduras." He turned and faced Tony, "What sort of tortillas d'you have?"

 

[DarkledMind]

Tony walked into the kitchen and sat at the breakfast nook in the same spot he had dwelled in this morning. "I have flour and corn tortillas." He pulled on the knees of his jeans, adjusting and rocking on his seat bones. "So what are Baleadas, and how good are they?" He placed his hands on the table to tap his fingers. A curious smile crossed his lips as mini-dummy whirred to life and clicked loudly as it spun in circles next to the sink while Bruce washed his hands.

 

[Eli]

Bruce shrugged, answering the latter question first, "Matter of opinion." His lips twitched upwards at mini-Dummy's antics, and he continued, "The ones I had usually consisted of red beans and cheese in a flour tortilla." He stepped purposefully to where the tortillas were kept, grabbed the package, and observed them critically. They weren't what he generally worked with, but they were thick enough. Normally he made the tortillas himself. He set them on the counter and sought the red beans next.


"I'll add more to it than that, though." He acquired the beans, placed them beside the tortillas, then searched the refrigerator for cream or fresh, crumbly cheese. He pulled out both -- Stark had an amazing array of foods in his fridge, and a lot of cheeses -- then set about accumulating the remaining materials he would need. He was considering pulling out some beef to make carne asada, or perhaps an avocado, and some eggs too, when he finally glimpsed back at Tony, "This alright with you? I probably won't poison you." He allowed his lips to curve up in reassurance -- it wasn't discernible whether he was joking or serious, however.


Bruce didn't make extravagant dishes; he rarely tasted the delicacies or daintiest dishes of the countries he journeyed through. He ate what the everyday working man ate, and those were the foods he made well and enjoyed most. He wasn't certain what Tony would think of this, of course; the man was accustomed to much finer dining. Still, the process of creating the baleadas would balance his hands and temper the constant thrum behind his eyes, and Bruce thought it was a marked improvement over Bagel Bites.

 

[DarkledMind]

Tony waved away at Bruce, leaning on one elbow with a smile. "No, go ahead. Sounds like an enchilada. He made a happy humming noise and watched as the little robot started helping do what he could. "Besides, it's not like I'm dying or anything." Why the fuck did he say that? He gave a playful laugh, brushing the comment off. But it disturbed him. He hadn't meant to say anything about how severe his condition really was, but it rolled off his tongue like nothing.


He blamed it on the Valium.

 

[Eli]

He chuckled, because no, it wasn't much like an enchilada, but paused at Tony's next words. His hand briefly stuttered as he prepared the beans, but it quickly recovered. Bruce decided against making the meat -- it wouldn't be very good if he didn't take the time to marinate it properly. Instead he withdrew eggs from the fridge. He rolled his lips together contemplatively.


"That's good," he said simply, without inflection, before refocusing on the food before him. The comment had sounded odd; then again, a lot of what Tony said could be labeled as odd. The guy had suffered two seizures the night before, though, and was clearly working through health problems that were rather poorly-defined for Bruce.


Bruce wouldn't press; that wasn't his job. Instead he worked at the baleada like a well-oiled machine; he could do that well enough. His movements were precise and practiced, and he sunk into the soothing routine he'd held when he had stayed in Honduras.

 

[DarkledMind]

Mini-dummy and Tony both watched Bruce in fascination. His fingers moved gracefully and deftly while preparing the meal. He had expected Bruce not to know mis en place and prepare all of the ingredients before actually preparing the meal. But logically it made sense. You did the same thing before doing a science experiment.


He licked his lips and leaned backwards. "So out of curiosity, how many languages do you know? You travel to the humbler parts of the world where English isn't spoken very well, right?"

 

[Eli]

Bruce hmmed and his lips folded into a mildly self-conscious grin. Language had never been his best subject -- he rarely mastered a new language, but he was able to pick basic words up with only minor difficulties. It was challenging to refer back to the many cultures he had observed, the tongues he had tried to comprehend. He slowed in his preparations and considered the question, dodging unpleasant memories in his effort to recall the places he had traveled. The fact of the matter was he only occasionally learned enough to have a true conversation -- he just learned what he could in order to work and to buy food.


"Uhh, I'm conversational in a few. There's... Spanish and Hindi and Portuguese, Indonesian and Nepali and some Bantu languages, and..." He licked his lips and shook his head, facing Tony, "There's more, but -- I only learn enough to get by for a month or two. And I butcher accents," he snorted, and with a shuffle of his feet he returned to the mostly-prepared meal before him.


Bruce washed his hands once more before reaching for two plates and assembling Tony's baleada. It was simple, easy to eat, and utensils weren't necessary; cheese, sour cream, refried beans, avocado and egg were slathered inside. He typically didn't make it with this combination or balance of ingredients, but he figured it would be edible. He grabbed a napkin and Tony's plate and situated it before his friend.


"Hope you survive," he murmured with a tinge of humor before grabbing his own plate and settling at the nook as well.

 

[DarkledMind]

Tony widened his eyes a little as Bruce prattled off languages. He knew his friend had a knack for science, but so many languages? "It is a wonder your head doesn't explode." He smiled and tugged his plate closer before munching into the baleada. He expressed his gratitude and consideration of the food (it was good) with a small little hum.


He was halfway through a bite when the typical, nondescript noise of JARVIS popped up over the loud-speakers. "Excuse me, sir, but Momofuku Ssam Bar does not have your phone."


Well, shit.

 

[Eli]

Bruce leaned over his plate, keeping the comment of 'I often wish my head would explode' to himself, and took a deep bite of the baleada. It wasn't the same, and he figured anything he made here in the States, in this kitchen, would lack the same flavor as a meal he made from absolute scratch in some distant land. The scientific majority of his brain prattled off all of the reasons why -- origin of the food, time it was prepared in, variations in ingredients -- while a small slice of him believed it was the markedly different atmosphere. He swallowed the mouthful and reached for his napkin when JARVIS intercepted their meal.


He blinked and set the warm baleada back on the pristine white plate. If not at Momofuku, that meant the phone was in the hands of an unidentified party, whose intentions were unclear. It might have been the autograph waiter and an act of rash vengeance; it could have been a member of the press; or perhaps a person in need who knew an abandoned, highly advanced phone owned by Tony Stark might sell for something.


More than the phone had been swiped, however; if that were the case, Bruce would not have cared in the slightest. Unfortunately, that cell phone held valuable information, as well as highly personal information.


His fingers traced the edges of his plate; he rubbed at a barely-there scratch. Bruce's voice was steady in the way he always tried to maintain it.


"Can they access its data?"

 

[DarkledMind]

JARVIS replied in a smooth tone. "Likely not, Dr. Banner. The phone is equipped with state of the art security systems that are almost on par with my own. They would have to posses very advanced technology and an innate knowledge of Stark Enterprises."


Tony tapped out a small drum sequence on the nook with two fingers. "Just in case though, JARVIS, turn on the phone in safe mode momentarily to wipe all data." He chewed on his lip nervously and wiped his damaged hand through his thick hair.


"Certainly, sir." A few noises later, and the AI announced that the task was complete.


Tony shrugged and turned to Bruce. "Not quite as satisfying as getting it back, but it'll have to do." There was an underlying tone of annoyance and he gave a small, dissatisfied snort. With the tenseness in his shoulders back, he dived into the baleada, taking unusually large bites. He wasn't hungry (okay he probably was, he was just so engrossed not to notice,) but the repetitive motions of his jaw helped to distract him from the nagging in the back of his mind.

 

[Eli]

The affirmation of the phone being wiped was reassuring; Stark's technology was hailed around the world for a reason, and although Bruce was dubious of most everything, he had seen his friend's inventions in action enough to know that perhaps, perhaps, this worry would fade away into blissful obscurity.


He finished his meal slowly, unlike Tony; he nursed the baleada in his hands and took small nips, mind still busy filing away the phone incident. When they finished, Bruce boxed up any and all edible leftovers in tupperware, to be stored away for later consumption, and handwashed the dishes with mini-Dummy assisting him. He wiped the counters clean, replaced the utensils and materials where he had found them, and assured the kitchen was spotless; it was less of a polite gesture and more of a selfish one, though, because his hands felt jittery without something to occupy them, and prolonging the chores aided with that.


The anxiety stemming from his files ebbed, but never completely dissolved. Despite this Bruce honed all of his attention on the nanotechnology, maintaining peaceful banter with Tony (and, despite how little conversation Bruce got nowadays, it was a surprisingly easy endeavor), and he trained a careful, unobtrusive eye on Tony's condition.


A week elapsed with promising progress on their technology and several instances where Bruce waved off Tony's extravagant epiphanies for Floor Banner. He hadn't accumulated all of the answers regarding Tony's condition, though, and had to continuously remind himself it wasn't his concern anyway.


Mostly, Bruce tried to keep himself busy. He had long discovered that when he let himself idly stew for too long he adopted the edginess of a caged animal; with the exceptions of his regular meditation and spotty sleeping, Bruce hardly allowed himself to rest. This helped to maintain his mostly-unwavering outwards calm. But his thoughts boomeranged to places he should be hiding at, to how many governments knew he was in Avengers Tower, to whether he should peruse his personal files, and when this visit would ultimately come to a close.


He was stuffing such concerns into a secluded closet of his mind when the click of heels alerted him of a third presence. He and Tony had been toiling in the lab, heads ducked and minds whirring, for at least a couple of hours now, and the intrusion shook him out of his concentration. Bruce blinked away from his work, eyes strained and stinging slightly, and set his gaze on the rapidly approaching Salt. She clutched a large manilla envelope in her manicured fingers, and she was making her way towards Stark.


Bruce briefly swiveled to face his friend before dismissing the distraction as a business matter, and returned to his project. With a little bit more tinkering, it might be functional...

 

[DarkledMind]

Tony physically felt better, after all of these days having someone at his side. Someone he could talk to, bounce ideas off of and have them actually comprehended. It reminded him of his times at MIT when he would stay after class to talk to his professors. Because while, yes, they were his professors, few of them were geniuses. A smirk at this thought crossed his features as he used the miniature welder to fuse two pieces of metal together, when he was interrupted by a light tap on his shoulder.


Salt delicately handed the envelope to Tony, who took it and saw the scrawled writing on it and dropped it. "Bruce, get your head out of that machine and over here. I may need a meat shield." He turned to Salt and all but glared at her. "Why did you bring this here? I told you nothing with cryptic messages."


She gulped lightly and held her own against the somewhat angry Stark. "As soon as we saw it we ran it through the proper tests, Mister Stark." Tony glowered at her and began running his own tests on the envelope immediately.

 

[Eli]

Bruce lifted his head at Tony's call, glimpsing over his shoulders at the problem envelope and the sudden apprehension surrounding it. He rolled a tool between his fingers in deliberation before setting it on the worktable and rotating his stool. He stood, one hand massaging his thigh, which was prickling with sleep, and half-limped to Tony and Salt. He offered Salt a small nod in greeting before directing his attention to the apparently strange delivery.


Nudging his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, he swept his gaze over the unassuming manilla folder. No address, no return. "If something explodes, expect to find me on the nearest plane outta here," he grunted before leaning closer to observe the precautionary tests.

 

[DarkledMind]

SoOrRy fOR tHe InCOnvEnIEncE


The sloppy handwriting made Tony's spine prickle slightly. He moved his tongue around nervously in his mouth, fingers tapping on his bicep when he crossed his arms nervously. "You and me both, Buddy. I can't take any more bombings." It was several long moments of neck rubbing and toe tapping before the machine making the checks whirred and fell silent.


JARVIS piped up. "Ms. Salt was correct, sir. There are no traces of poison, explosives, radiation, or chemicals."


Tony nodded and bit his lips slightly. "Can you tell us what it is?"


"It seems to be a cell phone."

 

[Eli]

Bruce squinted at the disjointed handwriting and flattened his lips in speculation. A certain impatient tension permeated the room, and all eyes were trained on the envelope that was being scanned. When the machinery ceased in its calculations and analyses, and reported its findings, his brows scrunched together. What had been lingering in the recesses of his mind for the entire week now found hold in his attention.


"Does it happen to match the phone from last week?"


His eyes shot to Tony briefly before latching onto the manilla envelope. It was a stretch, surely, but considering the circumstances of each incident, the message on the package, the-- well, he hadn't deciphered a clear motive for a person taking a cell phone then returning it a week later, but there were certain possibilities. If he was correct in his assumption. He shifted the weight on his feet.

 

[DarkledMind]

"It appears to be the elusive missing phone." Jarvis made a few odd noises that not even Tony could decipher.


Tony picked up his tiny welder he had been using earlier and tapped it nervously on the glass counter. A small noise escaped his lips and the tapping quickened. "First off, analyze the package as well as the phone for possible finger prints. Eliminate Mine, Pep--I mean Salt's," He glanced nervously to the secretary who crossed her arms and glared coldly, "And Banner's here."


"Yes, sir." JARVIS began doing the told instructions with precisions and with the help of Dummy, who whirred lowly when he picked the package up to open it.


"And then try and access the phone wirelessly and block all signals from entering your mainframe."

 

[Eli]

Banner's mind went to work dissecting the puzzle before him the moment the cell phone was confirmed to be the one abandoned at Momofuku. The incessant tapping of Tony’s welder, the offended Salt, the whirring of the machines, all faded into the background.


His eyes flickered over the package as it was stripped open, and the familiar Starkphone was revealed. Its surface appeared untouched, as if it had arrived directly from where he left it on the beer-stained table. The robots handled it meticulously, scanning it for fingerprints as commanded. He thought if they wiped it for stray particles and other possible indicators, they might find a lead. If the situation was as obscure as Tony was treating it – blocking all signals from entering JARVIS was a sure sign of his attitude on the matter, not to mention his body language – then Bruce somehow doubted the person behind it would have left anything as obvious as fingerprints.


Dummy clicked decisively, and JARVIS’ voice soon followed, reporting that there were no unfamiliar fingerprints detected. A beat later the AI informed them that he was powering the phone up, and would attempt to access it wirelessly, as Tony directed.


Bruce shuffled closer, expression slack except for the captivated narrowing of his eyes and the slight fold between his brows. He worried the side of his lip as his arms crept up to his chest and folded over his rumpled shirt.


Light burst from the activated interface of the device, and…


”The device is fully functional, sir; nothing unusual detected.”


He’d say he had grown unnecessarily paranoid over the years if not for the fact that his skepticism had proven a valid and invaluable tool throughout his numerous experiences.


Instead of commenting, he blinked. Words eventually found him.


”That’s… kind of them.” He scratched his graying temple. “No explosives, no damage,” his dubious gaze shot to his companion, “Maybe the world’s turning over a new leaf. “

 

[DarkledMind]

Tony snorted and rubbed his beard and cheek in what might be construed as relief. He chuckled lowly and let his arms fall to his side. He then abandoned the welder with a flick of his wrist and threw his arms up incredulously. "Well that was anticlimactic." Another chuckle and he rubbed the back of his neck, the thin hairs refusing to lay down and go into an un-bristled state..


Tongue in cheek, he looked over at Bruce. "So, bud, you think it is safe to open the thing up and put it back into commission?" Tony jumped and landed on the semi-opaque surface of the work station, crossing his ankles casually. He had picked up the welder again and was turning it in his calloused and dirty hands. He asked Bruce because, in all honesty, he didn't know what to do when something went right. And he was, of course, apprehensive of what would happen should he react like nothing was wrong, which seemingly there wasn't.

 

[Eli]

"Uh. No."


Bruce's eyes only briefly flitted to Tony's face before landing on the phone once more. That was the simplest, frankest answer to his friend's honest inquiry. He slid his glasses more securely up the bridge of his nose, and considered, for a short moment, elaborating his opinion. It was one based more off of personal experience than anything else; in his many years he had accepted quite early on that what was good did not last, what was comforting would breathe its last breath sooner rather than later, and when something was suspicious, there was valid reason for such skepticism lurking not far behind.


The phone had reappeared suddenly, without warning, and without information that any neighborly delivery might possess. Did the sender simply lack fingerprints? The scans had indicated innocence, but Bruce was wanting of more proof. Then again, it was Tony's phone, Tony's problem, and Tony's decision to make. If corrupted enough, a lot of damage could be doled out with a lot less than a cell phone, however. He rolled his shoulders back and let his hands drop to his pockets.


His gaze settled over the welder in Tony's hands, and how it twisted and turned relentlessly. Despite his friend's casual countenance, Bruce's nose tingled with the sharp scent of restlessness -- though his eyes had picked up on that easily enough to begin with.


"I'd... scan it more completely, first."