The Universe's Mixer

Effie was visibly enraged by the time her father appeared, her face almost as ready as her hair and she kept glaring at people like she wanted to paint the Tower with their intestines. She stalked over to the car, climbing in and huffing. "I need you to take me to Logan's," she stated, not looking at her father.

She instead stared out the window, tears still rolling silently down her cheek, even despite her pain. She was so...broken inside that she could barely breathed.

How could Bruce hurt her like this?! They were supposed to have a nice night and he...he...

She burst into tears, clinging her her knees, sobbing against the flesh, her tiny body trembling with her pain.

Bruce sighed softly.

He traced another line of curvature over a possible sketch he had created for Dinah's new armor. He would have to run it by both Dinah, and Fred, of course. But it was looking hopeful. When the tracing was complete, Bruce jotted down an equation or two, as well as a few notes on the sheet the sketch was on. He felt that it wasn't too bad for him, considering he really wasn't much of an inventor.

He had to have something to do, however, that distracted from the fact that he hadnt seen his wife the day or night before. It was now almost lunch time and there was still no word from her. If she wore her watch he could track her, and though it wasn't at their room in the tower Bruce had a feeling she had taken it off at that stupid apartment of hers and left it there. He hated that apartment.

But he would just have to wait until she came home to find out if she was alright. He couldn't remember any fighting between them. They had seemed fine at the Christmas Party that Beauty had thrown. Despite the attention to some of the more unsavory characters present by Effie, Bruce felt she wasn't out doing something she wasn't supposed to be doing.

Last time...well, it hadnt ended very well.

With a hum Bruce set aside the sketch for later and picked up another. It was a replica of a sketch he had discovered in Edward's desk at the warehouse. It held some kind of mechanism designed to administer hulk serum. Why Eddie was interested in hulk serum, Bruce wasn't sure. He was sure that he probably wouldn't like the reason if he did find out. There wasn't much about Edward that Bruce liked, now that he thought about it.

But what did this sketch mean? With a sigh, humming ceasing abruptly, the scientist shelved that sketch too. He had too. It would eat at him if he didn't.