A helicopter flew in low overhead, the chop of its blades filling the empty space of silence left by the startled pigeons. Sleep was faraway for Betty tonight, she had a visitor. Although he had a team with him (he wasn't stupid), when the helicopter touched down on a nearby roof Fury came out of it alone. After her tussle with the military the other day, he expected she'd be skittish. Nobody wanted a skittish Hulk. The best policy here would be honesty. And caution. He'd tell her truths, he wouldn't approach as an enemy, and he'd try to keep her calm. This was actually in a manual somewhere in a section specifically devoted to hulks, there were training courses. It was a real fucking shame his intel leaked on this and the military got to her first. A lot of problems could've been avoided that way.
As Nick approached the warehouse a voice in his ear told him his team was in positions, ready to move in at a moment's notice. "Hold," Fury instructed in a mutter. Hopefully there would be no need for any show of force here. The gun he had holstered at his shoulder was for habit and comfort more than anything else. Bullets weren't going to do much if she got angry. Nick wasn't going to like her much if she got angry.
"Miss Ross," he called out into the darkness after he'd slipped in through a rusting door. His kept his voice neutral, his slow step steady, but he was on alert and he kept his eye wide as he stared through the dusty gloom. "I'm Nick Fury, the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. We've met before. I just want to talk to you."