Chapter 1
“Who are you?” the shackled man asked with a glare at the attractive woman already seated at the table as he was escorted to his bolted-down chair by the guards.
Her face remained emotionless as did her voice as she said, “Hello, Brian.” She took a sip of her coffee, her bright red lipstick leaving a light residue on the cup.
Brian Banner grew angered as she, an obviously much younger looking woman in her late twenties or so, called him by his first name—no honorific, no nothing—just, Brian. His eyes narrowed. “You should respect your elders,” he snapped, playing his poor-old-man trump card. “That’s Mister Banner to you.”
A side of her mouth ever so slightly curled up to the side to show a pearly flash of white, “To answer your first question, I’m Natasha Romanoff. Secondly, I only respect those who deserve it, and you, Brian, are far from deserving of my respect. Thirdly, I would have thought you would have insisted upon being called ‘Doctor’.” She looked at him placidly, letting the dig at his former profession sink in deliciously deep.
He did his best to stare her down with his rheumy eyes, but he finally squirmed under her inscrutable gaze. “I’d watch my back if I were you.” It was meant to be an intimidating threat, but it came out as more of a whine. Even he knew it didn’t impress her. The former scientist sneered at his unwelcomed visitor again with an arrogant jerk of his head. He was behind bars, but he still had his resources and allies beyond the prison walls who might do him a quiet little favor. Some of them would especially enjoy this attractive of a toy to play with before completing the job.
She picked up the coffee she’d set down in front of her and turned her head slightly to the side studying him, “I’d watch my front if I were you.” She observed the arteries in his neck and temple as his heart rate visibly picked up. She leaned back comfortably in her chair, sipping on her coffee. She gave off the appearance of not only being content in a Maximum Security Asylum, but she was completely at ease with Brian himself. Most of the employees, including the male guards, viewed him as a danger, a nasty piece of work to avoid when possible.
The convicted murderer sat there scrutinizing everything about his visitor for the next few minutes. She stayed composed and never looked away. She watched him, watch her.
The old man finally wrinkled his nose. “You smell different. It’s not a perfume, and it’s not in that, ‘all redheads have a different scent sort of smell’ way either.”
She slightly shrugged her shoulder, “Redheads are mutants by nature.”
“That’s not it,” he paused. “Come closer.”
Natasha stayed where she was in her seat, sipping her coffee. The placid expression having returned to her face, “Why would I do that?”
Eyes glittering with sudden excitement, Brian smiled, “The better to smell you with, my dear girl.” His teeth glistened in the institutional lighting as he dared her to get closer. Curious about his new tactic, she went ahead and leaned nearer with her elbows on the table. He grinned triumphantly, “You smell a bit like Erskine’s chemicals.”
“I see experimenting on one’s self tends to run in the family,” she said blandly.
The old man’s features grew enraged in a heartbeat. “I knew it. That’s the other smell! You smell like that sorry excuse for a son I have!”
The smallest of smiles flitted across her lips as he lost control. “Do you mean the one who is out of jail, happy, healthy, an Avenger, a brilliant scientist, best friends with Tony Stark . . . do I need to keep going?” Nat blinked cooly and smiled. “The one who eclipsed you in brilliance both in and outside of a laboratory?”
“If he’s got you for a piece of ass, I suppose he has to be doing something right, but then again from what I hear, your kill count, Ms. Romanoff, is even higher than Hulk’s.” He arrogantly jerked his chin upward again, attempting to look down his nose at her. “Humph, perhaps it takes a monster to love one?”
Nat’s mouth curved up into her own slightly psychotic grin, “Brian, my dear, don’t flatter yourself. You’d have to live an awfully long time to reach my body count numbers. Not that your own contributions and ‘experiments’ don’t put you in the running, but something so impersonal as a bomb hardly qualifies you for the club—it’s the treachery of murdering someone you supposedly loved with your own bare hands that puts you into a whole different category.” Brian looked stunned for a moment before anger again crowded out the other emotions on his face.
Natasha leaned slightly closer to him, and this time she grabbed his wrist in an inhuman grasp, so he couldn’t escape. “Let me tell you a secret. Do you like secrets, Brian?” she asked him in a low voice that caught him by surprise. The assassin squeezed harder to remind him he was supposed to answer.
“Ye—Yes!” he gasped.
“I thought so. Everyone likes secrets.” She smiled mysteriously at him, “No, lean a little closer because I want to make sure you hear and understand everything I’m about to tell you.” She tilted her head while she waited for him to lean forward. His tough exterior failed under the threat of a female smaller in stature than his dead wife—the woman he murdered, his own son’s mother.
“Can you hear me okay, Brian?” she prompted. He could only nod. “What was that?”
“Ye—Yes!”
“Good. Just making sure you and I are on the same page. No one keeps secrets from me for very long. I will gnaw away at you until all that’s left of you is bone; on that bone, there will be teeth marks, deep ones. I’ll find out the truth of what you’ve been hiding or anyone else for that matter, and I don’t mind going to the extreme. Hell, sometimes,” she smiled softly at him, “I even like it and then—and only after you’ve given me everything I need and want will I let you go. I may let you live after. Most likely you’ll choose death.”
She kept a tight grip on him while she pushed her thumb on the pressure point on his wrist, causing him immense pain. “I think I owe you the truth about something, Brian. It’s only fair. It’s about Bruce.” She lightened up on his wrist slightly, “You with me?” He nodded. “Just checking. You see, Bruce, I love Bruce, but he fears the Hulk. To him, Hulk is his Monster. He comes out when Bruce is afraid, and I blame you for that. You were jealous of your own son. He was smarter than you. His mother paid him more attention than you. You treated both Bruce and Rebecca like shit. You mentally and physically abused both of them, then murdered the child’s mother in front of him. He wasn’t allowed a proper childhood full of love like children are supposed to have. If you’d just let Rebecca leave with Bruce, he’d have at least stood a chance, but you robbed him of all of that. Because of all of that baggage, he started down the road that led to the accident, that led to Hulk. Believe me, it doesn’t take a psychiatrist to trace it all back to dear old Dad.” She let that sink in a moment. “It’s about time someone held you accountable.”
“Then there’s me.” She squeezed Brian’s wrist tighter and he whimpered, biting down on his lower lip. “I didn’t have a proper childhood either. I grew up learning how to get information, seduce, and murder. I’ve learned how to use those skills wisely. But you see, the difference between Bruce and me, he wears his Monster on the inside for when situations arise that Hulk decides Bruce can’t handle. He protects Bruce. I wear my Monster on the outside. She’s always with me and you know what? I’m okay with that because our Monsters get along fabulously.” She gave him a full grin.
“Now, I’m making you a promise. If one hair on Bruce’s head comes to harm or even gets out of place and I suspect you’re behind it, I’m the one you’ll be answering to. If you do something stupid like send someone to hurt us or communicate to people like General Ross in any way, you will get to see an up close and personal demonstration of what my Monster can and will do to protect the people I care about. Let me make this crystal clear, if you thought the Hulk was a Monster, just wait till you meet the Monster that loves him.”
Her hand casually slipped into the old man’s, grasping it in a handshake, and somehow a business card was produced in that very same hand.
She smiled pleasantly at him, “If you’re ever tempted to contact Bruce again, those are my numbers. You can leave a message or talk to FRIDAY. She’s very good at what she does if I’m unavailable. Being an Avenger is very busy work, you know, and I’ll decide if it’s worth your son’s time and trouble to deal with you. You suggested it takes a Monster to love a Monster. Maybe that’s true, but it also takes a real Monster to put the second-rate ones in their place.”
She stood up from the table and walked toward the door before turning back to him, “Have a good day, Brian, and thank you for your cooperation.” She knocked on the door and waited for the guard, before turning back to him, “By the way, I grew up under Stalin, so don’t waste your seniority card next time.” She almost laughed at his shocked expression. “You’re a scientist, you should know better than to make assumptions.”
The door to the room opened, and she walked out, quite certain of her Monster’s and her own place in the world.