InsaneJournal

Who: Science Bros
What: discussing Bruce's flirt resistance and finishing the cancer treatment test run.
When: Nowish.
Rating: Green

Tony was nosy. This was a given considering how security minded he was. He monitored everything. The ceiling not only had eyes but it also had ears. He scanned every person who walked through the doors so he knew what they had on them. And if he had his glasses on? Forget it. His eyeballs got a download courtesy of a HUD read out that he could speed read at a ridiculous pace.

So, having a burning need to at least check in on what happened in his lab whle he was gone, and not wanting to get the gossip from Friday, Tony watched the security footage. And then he drove a little too fast to the tower after seeing his good buddy, Bruce, failboating hard with a sexy secret agent.

Tony was practically bouncing on his heels as he waited for the private elevator to zip him up to the top floor lab, where he jogged through the door and found Bruce. Personal space was invaded and Tony's mouth opened, and out came so much word vomit.

"Ok, first? Hi! It's me." He paused to roll his eyes like DUH OF COURSE IT IS. "I'm here for like, a blip. And the nanobots are working perfectly, by the way? I ran them through my brain and I feel squeaky clean. So we can roll with you putting the aromatherapy part into them and we'll stick 'em in Foster and see what percolates.

"Second, what the hell? Are you hosed down in flirt resistant coating? I'm here to help you free of charge. You handed Bobbi Morse, bikini girl, paper towels. If a hot chick's licking her fingers? Primal signal she's hungry for more, and I'm not talking about hankerin' for a hunka cheese, capache?"

There was a good reason that Tony wasn’t a spy. His entrance to the lab was an excellent demonstration of that and Bruce, being used to him spinning in like a whirling dervish, simply set down the test tube in his hand and looked over the top of his glasses as Tony babbled.

He was glad to hear that the nanobots were working without issue. “I need to analyze your blood before we inject Jane,” Bruce said. That wouldn’t take long though and he was feeling pretty confident that this was going to work and help heal Dr. Foster.

It took a long moment for the rest of Tony’s diatribe to penetrate though and Bruce stared at him blankly. “Wait, what? You think that young agent was flirting with me?” That made no sense to him. He was practically old enough to be her father. “I don’t think so. And besides, how do you even know about that?” He knew that the lab was wired for security, but it hadn’t occurred to him that Tony would actually watch the footage.

Tony plonked his arm down and pushed his sleeve up. His impatience was nigh legendary and, as proof, he was tapping two fingers at the crook of his inner elbow to get the veins to show.

"I don't know if this works. I see it on every movie or tv show about people sticking needles in themselves. So let's go. Poke me, Bruce."

He stared at him intently. No, not merely intently. Intensely.

"You know 'poke me' could be construed as poke me, right? Wink wink. Like if you and I were a thing?" He stopped tapping and made the hot dog in the donut hand gesture at Bruce with his fingers. "That's what that looks like, but I don't need you poking my donut. You know, you're obviously into regular sized fancy donuts and mine's like...those mini ones at 7 Eleven. I'm gonna say the powdered kind, because choco ones are a mental image no one wants. Anyway?

"I know because you know I'm nosy," Tony continued explaining, "and I'm always reviewing the footage on high speed when I can't sleep. You're pretty boring as a tv show by the way? Then I saw hot Bobbi and you, and I said whaaaaaaaat? So I slowed it down regular speed for a peek-see and it turned into a comedy, but like hand meet face variety. C'mon! You need to get that whole ageism thing out of your head. These days it's equal opportunity. Cougars roam wild and old college professors get hitched to their students, but everyone shrugs at it. Think outside of your super restrictive box."

Bruce sighed inwardly as he got the supplies he needed to draw Tony’s blood. Luckily, they were fairly close at hand, because he suspected that the man would not stay seated very long if he wasn’t quick about getting what he needed.

“I am not interested in poking you or anyone else, Tony,” he said, his tone mild as usual as he tried really hard not to think about exactly where Tony was going with that donut metaphor. Some things were better left alone. “Especially not an agent of SHIELD.”

They saw how well that had worked out for him last time. Not that things had a chance to get that far with him and Nat before she tossed him off the cliff and the Other Guy ran off to another planet. Regardless, dating was not high on Bruce’s priority list and hadn’t been ever since the initial accident that created the Hulk.

“Make a fist,” he said after putting on rubber gloves and preparing the needle and vials. That was a more effective way to get the veins to pop than tapping them.

"You're tiptoeing again," Tony said, making a fist and clenching his fingers like he was squeezing the goo out of a stress ball. "I know you're gun shy about playing hide the zucchini. There's ways to get around the poking part. I wish there was a way to get around this poking part, though."

Tony looked straight forward to avoid watching a blood draw taking place, and he began thinking about several things. Nanotech. Cures for cancer. Maybe Morgan would grow up to be President. President Stark sounded good whether it was him or the little squirt. Was that toast he ate whole wheat or the cracked variety? Did he remember to put the car in park before he bolted out of it? Or how about Bruce being immune to hot bikini spies...

"I'm gonna hit up Doctor Palmer about the green light on the nanotech," Tony blurted out, "and you know, you should green light yourself for a date. It's ok to do that. You don't even need to do that actual tango on a slip-n-slide thing. Work arounds. You gotta troubleshoot this. I can't be letting you go sad trombone in my pimptastic lab, buddy. This is a sexy place where sexy things happen. Please don't actually do sexy things in here because you know I'll have to lysol wipe everything down afterward. Heebies. Is that needle in yet?"

This 'help' was probably payback for falling asleep during therapy time. Even after Bruce told him that he wasn't that kind of doctor.

“My life is perfectly fine without dating,” Bruce said. He was tempted to stab Tony harder than necessary, but his professional ethics overrode his annoyance, so he didn’t. “You’re going to feel a little pinch.”

Once the needle was in and the vials were filling, he spoke again. “Let’s wait to give her the go ahead until I check a few things,” he suggested. “I think everything should be fine, but I want to verify that the nanotech didn’t have an inverse effect on a few protein levels.”

They were really only getting one chance at this and Bruce didn’t want to screw it up by rushing things. Maybe if he kept redirecting Tony towards science discussions, he’d drop the idea of Bruce dating.

He knew that was unlikely, but he had to have hope.

Tony made a face that involved one eye scrunching up entirely while the other was wide open and rolling up toward the ceiling. That was his standard expression when getting blood drawn.

"Fine but boring. You're on a slow boat to Comaville. You're my friend, so I'm helping. That's what friends do. Get nosy and help, and then say 'oh no they didn't' about breakups, on the phone, like twelve year old girls. Holy shit. I need to screen everyone Morgan's gonna date. And their parents."

Tony looked shell shocked by that revelation for approximately ten seconds, before he took his phone out from his pocket, plonked it on the table, and began tapping. A holograph popped up from the phone and he squinted at the readout.

"Six point nine grams per deciliter. It shouldn't be off, but lemme know if you get different numbers when you run it." He began swiping his finger over the screen, sending various readings to Friday so that Bruce could double-check it all later. "Ok, Dracula. How many vials are you gonna take? I'm feeling the wooze."

As soon as the third vial was full, Bruce removed the needle and pressed a piece of cloth to the spot, applying pressure to stop the bleeding. “I’m done now,” he said. It was hard to believe that Tony was such a wimp about having blood taken given all the stuff he got up to in his suit.

“I think you have a little time before you have to worry about your daughter dating,” he added, making a mental note to warn Pepper that her fiance was likely to off the deep end at any time. More off the deep end. Whatever. Bruce figured Pepper should be able to prepare either way.

He did glance over the display, but he would feel better running the numbers himself. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Tony, it was more that he preferred his own hard data. Okay, and maybe a little he didn’t trust Tony not to fudge the numbers.

“And I appreciate the thought, but I don’t need help.”

That deep end had long since been dove into. Tony was already at the bottom. It alternated between wildly flailing to avoid drowning, and leisurely floating around on one of those inflatable lounge chairs with a martini in hand. There was no inbetween. It was one or the other.

"Trust me, you need the help," Tony was saying, as his brain flailed in its cerebral fluids. "You should let me set something up. I was gonna help Coulson see that cellist. You know who I think you'd get along great with? Helen Cho. I know she was all ooo Thor but Thor's brain is made of pudding cups and yours is like...surf and turf."

In other words, one tasted awesome but if you wanted something substantial that tasted good, you didn't order a pudding cup. Tony knew this, because he tried once and the five star restaurant waiter stared at him funny. Pepper convinced him to settle on creme brulee, but it wasn't the same as a pudding cup.

That was a bummer.

"How soon you gonna get results, Old School," Tony asked, looking around for the Iron Man bandaids. "You seen my box of bandaids? The ones that look like me?"

Bruce suspected that was Tony’s version of a compliment, odd as it might be. “Is there anything they aren’t selling branded with our images at this point?” he asked. Unlike the others, he at least had a modicum of privacy when he went out because most people did not realize that mild mannered scientist Bruce Banner and Hulk were one and the same.

“Here,” he said, finding the box of bandaids on a shelf nearby and handing it to Tony.

Apparently his efforts to dissuade Tony were not working. “Tony, I assure you, if I decide I’m interested in dating, I will do so,” he said. “For now, I’m good focusing on work. Christine and I will be busy getting things set up for the clinic anyway.”

"Hey, don't knock it. You get a paycheck off ice cream and underoos. Kids love the Unjolly Green Giant. You could blow all your money buying the penthouse across from me. We can throw things across the street at each other. That'd be great."

Tony stuck the Iron Man bandaid on his arm and sat back, surveying everything.

"Ok, fine. Work first, if course. I get it, and we're trying to help cure cancer. But the minute you're dating someone? Double date time. Me and Pep, and you and hopefully some smokin' hot spy who shows up in random universes wearing a bikini. That you aren't missing visual clues from. Anyway? Who's gonna tell doctors Palmer and Foster about the big medical breakthrough? You or me? Joint effort, with you riding shotgun or...?"

“Sure, Tony,” Bruce said. Since he had no interest in dating smokin’ hot spies or anyone else, he didn’t see the harm in placating his friend by agreeing to a hypothetical double date.

Getting back on the subject of work was preferable. “You can handle communicating with Christine and Jane,” he said. “I’ll keep working on my end of things.” There were still a few tiny tweaks he needed to make to target everything to Jane’s DNA, so he would perfect that while Tony made plans.

"You got it. I'll send a private message when I get home," replied Tony. He was much more comfortable with the public side of talking about science than Bruce was. Bruce probably was reveling in the quiet in the lab to work, given Tony's penchant for playing classic rock to help him think. "What're you doing, later? Wanna drop in and say hi to Morgan when you got a mo?"

Despite the Other Guy not being terribly interested in making an appearance as of late, Bruce wasn’t completely comfortable with the idea of spending time around a fragile infant. However, he did want to check in on Pepper and he figured that agreeing to see the baby would help in his efforts to distract Tony from trying to help him on dating front. “Sure, I can do that,” Bruce said. “Let me know if Pepper needs anything.”

"Good. You're as bad as I am at hiding in labs. Or garages. Or India. Whatever, you're worse. You win. Come over and see the soon-to-be wife and kid."

Tony started heading out the door and gave a little wave before it opened.

"Lemme know if the javabot needs more java. Later!"