This only brought up more questions that he filed away for later. Like why Banner would be irritated about Betty's condition if, like his, it wasn't voluntary (which could only lead Fury to wonder if it was, in fact, her choice). Interesting. If that was the case Banner could take a page out of his ex's book about chilling the hell out and treating his big green half as a gift rather than a curse. "Don't mind him," Nick suggested, sagely. "He's got a Hulk hangup." He held open the door for her and followed her into the McDonalds.
The clientele in a fast food joint at this time of night were not the sort of people who would bat an eye at a large red woman and a fierce man with an eyepatch. They got a few cursory glances before the drunk, tired, and unsavory returned to to their quarter pounders and greasy fries. The girl behind the counter gave them an appraising look, popped her gum, then asked what they'd like with all the enthusiasm of a mourner at a funeral.
"You go ahead, anything you want," Fury said to Betty, distracted by something in his ear piece. "What?" He demanded of the voice in his ear and became incredulous as listened to the request. "No, motherfucker, I will not get you a Shamrock Shake! Get it your damn self-" he paused. "All of you, I don't care."
"You might have a rush soon," he informed the cashier when it was his turn to order. She popped her gum again, unfazed. Fury cleared his throat and examined the menu. "They do breakfast after midnight now?" He muttered in surprise. Torn by this new information, he finally settled for a Big Mac, an egg McMuffin, two large fries and a chocolate shake. When they had their food Nick led the way to a corner booth near the bathrooms, far from any other diners. As they sat down the first few members of Fury's teams trickled in, decked out in full tactical gear, to order hamburgers and shakes to take back to their waiting helicopters. Fury shook his head and unwrapped his McMuffin.