The Challenge

Her name was Nala White. Unassuming. On the precipice of middle-aged. In one hand she had a leash unattached to a dog, and in the other a non-artisinal cup of Joe. None of that Bushwhick-pretty latte art shit. No. She had rolled out of bed, woken her old mutt of a dog and then proceeded to stop at the first Halal cart visible on the way to Tompkins Square Park for some good goddamn coffee.

Black coffee. Black, like her soul. Jesus, how melodramatic.

I digress, like any good story involving a rather remarkably unremarkable main female protagonist - well not entirely unremarkable for reasons to be explained later, obviously, begins with bumping into someone truly extraordinary.

Manhattan after the invasion was akin to its transformation after 9/11, except the change was Stark in difference. It had been nearly five months since the attack and still there were police officers stationed at nearly every corner. A heightened sense of despair and fragility loomed over the city, but it was battered but not defeated. New Yorkers were as resilient as the undying cockroachs, which crawled within the city's under bowls. She was proud to say that the city had bounced back. And not just surviving, New York City was thriving, face-lifted thanks to an apparently never ending supply of wealth via Stark Industries. Understandable, even admirable, considering the companies turn around from it early Tony-era time-

Nala's internal musing were abruptly over at the sight of her unleashed terror happily licking the side of a man's pant leg.

"Mozz," Nala jogged over to the giant of a man. "Please don't attack the poor man!" Her dog looked up, panting and smiling a drooly-smile. Since he had, that meant conversation and polite pleasantries on Mozart's behalf for her. The horror.

She offered the stranger an embarrassed smile, "Sorry he's an old rascal, I've forgotten how fast he can run when he wants." She glared at her bulldog, traitor. Not for the first time the stubborn rascal had gotten one over her.

Her now ex-therapist said that she needed to work on rebuilding the bridges she had burned, begin to trust people again. He had promised to end the therapy sessions, to clear her for surgeries if she showed progress.

He didn't say the trusting relationship had to be with a person.

Her dog was misbehaved, arrogant, and pushy, not to mention a bed hog and an emitter of vile sleep farts and it was because she loved him that she saw passed his more awful flaws.

A bad dog reflected on a poor owner, as the Dog for Dummies Manual warned. And she was stubborn enough to still try to train the bad habits out of her dog. Still even after years after adopting him.

"Hey, Mozzie let's not scare the nice man anymore, okay,". She patted Mozz's ears in a failed attempt to calm him down (it was a trick in the Dog Manuel- one that apparently didn't work ). "Sorry, he has a Napoleon-dog-complex, his ego is a bit bigger than his body. And as you can see his body is rather tiny."

The man almost looked bemused, "I don't think that was friendliness as much as it was defense."

"Against you?" Nala blurted, the man in front of her was as intimidating as a plush toy (if that plush toy wore large ill-fitting clothes, and a thick pair of professor-glasses). Whatever the stranger's physical hugeness allowed in intimidation was immediately lost from his soft spoken, worried words and rather shy demeanor. Nah, he reminded her more of a professor: a lanky, raggedy, unshaven mad scientist type professor.

"Sorry." She replied to his dazed look with a dubious one, "I've encountered more frightening people in my OR than you, buddy."

A furrow appeared in between his eyebrows, and a rather definite frowning was downturning the corners. Yikes. This is a tragic encounter, this is why you never get out and talk to non-work people.

Awkward would be the term to describe how she felt next to the professor in front of her. Nala internally cringed.

"Right, well on that note," she stuck her hand out in the air in between them, "Nala White."

Doctor Nala White, her brain added, but even in her head it sounded pretentious. Sounding pretentious was just not her way of doing things, ever. Dealing the enough pretentious assholes at work had her not wanting to imitate that behavior.

"Bruce."

He smiled shyly while enveloping his hand in her own. It wasn't even a smile, but merely an up quirking of lips. His very big, warm, calloused hand; Nala could feel the warmth through her gloves. Maybe he had a fever. Feverish, was that why he was talking to her?

She hadn't even brought her thermometer with her because that would be weird. Right?

"I sometimes bring a barometer to measure the atmospheric temperature when Tho- I mean when bad thunder storms are meant to arrive, so I don't think it's weird."

She smiled at Bruce (Bruce, bruce BRUCE, his name was nice to repeat internally) "Or maybe we are both oddballs, so our weirdnesses don't bother each other?"

He smiled wider, "Maybe."

Nala nodded. What does one say to that then?

Awkward, say something. "Care to join us?" She flailed at in between herself and the mangy mutt she called her own.

She shifted on her heel, waiting expectantly for his answer; what is causing him to take so long to answer? What is there to deliberate? Answer, fool!

He nodded, and Nala had a hunch that perhaps she wasn't the only struggling with this conversation thing.

He was intelligent; she knew by the way he described the physics of the falling snow around them. And funny, but he was so quiet, he voice muffled in the cold air.

They walked the perimeter of the park before reentering the dog park,while exchanging pleasantries and making small talk.

Nala noticed that he was so quiet when he spoke, gentle, but cautious. And he walked with nearly silent steps and stood with hunched shoulders- terrible posture- almost as if he was getting ready to disappear. Like he already had so much practice disappearing.

Friends, she wanted to be his friend. He was intelligent, and not aggressive, unlike her coworkers. Surgeons are ambitions, and aggressive by nature; her coworker were no exception. The Skype-talks she with her parents and the one-sided conversation with her dog didn't soothe the need for real human contact. Nala even lived with her younger brother, but him being in his first year as a data analyst at Stark, left little to no time around him except for when he was passed the fuck out asleep. Her closest friends were the Parkers, up in Astoria, and she only got to see them every couple Sundays.

Her phone tinged, reminded her of the surgery that she had to be at the hospital at… in an hour. And she had to drop Mozz back off at the apartment.

'So Bruce, coffee?' Or maybe I should play it cooler, and just be like 'Dude, can I get your number?'

"I'll see you around?" Bruce interjected, Nala couldn't make out whether he sounded hopeful or horrified at his question.

Damn, he beat me to it.

They had begun to walk toward the edge of the park, and the red light on 9th and B gave them a moment together before Nala had to split. Her place was deeper into Alphabet city and she was running short on time.

Nala wanted to give him contact info, but he both didn't ask for it, and seemed super hesitant. Best not to scare him off.

"Yea man, I am always here around this time, so you're welcome to join us walking!"

AND I AM BACK. I'm rebooting/overhauling because I am interested I think in the developement of Bruce's character from Avengers to Age of Ultron (and I don't like what they did via Black Widow love interest thing.)

Update tomorrow.

SHOW ME LOVE, the winter was cold, bleak and dark. And the year even harsher. BUT I IS HERE AND READY TO RUMBLE.