Chapter 14: Dumpling Détente
The smell of pork buns and chili oil hung heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the usual expensive leather and ozone scent of the penthouse. Cardboard containers covered the low glass coffee table, mountains of dumplings, noodles, and sticky ribs half-demolished. Mary sat back on the oversized leather sofa, one hand resting possessively on the faint, warm glow beneath her thin t-shirt, the other shoveling shrimp har gow into her mouth with surprising delicacy. Her bare feet, propped up on the table, made the glass creak ominously. She hadn’t spoken much since the food arrived, just focused, methodical consumption. Healing, I figured. Growing.
"You weren’t kidding," I murmured, gingerly touching the still-tender spot on my jaw where she’d clocked me days ago in Reed’s lab. The bruise was fading, thanks to my durability, but the memory of her fist, fueled by betrayal and shock, lingered. "This could feed the Avengers."
She glanced up, her eyes, usually sharp with arrogance or combat focus, held a different kind of intensity now. A protective fierceness. "Shut up, Hardin. I’m hungry." She speared a char siu bao aggressively. "And don’t think this," she gestured vaguely at the feast, then tapped her glowing stomach, "means I’ve forgiven you. Not even close."
"I know," I said quietly, leaning against the sleek granite counter separating the living area from the kitchen. The panoramic view behind her showed the city lights starting to twinkle, indifferent to our drama. "Offering the guest room was genuine, Mary. No strings. You need space? It’s yours. You need…" I trailed off, unsure what she needed beyond the mountain of food.
She swallowed, her gaze drifting back to the skyline. "Crusher called," she said abruptly, her voice rough. "Wants to know when I’m coming back to the West Coast."
The air thickened. "What did you tell him?"
"Told him I was wrapping up some… loose ends in the city." She pushed a container away, suddenly seeming less hungry. "He’s suspicious. I’m a terrible liar. Always have been." Her jaw tightened. "He doesn’t know about… this. About you. About what you did."
The unspoken weight hung between us: What we did. The frantic encounters, the way her body had greedily accepted my seed, the sheer impossibility of it overcoming Doom’s science. My unique, dense biology overriding her sterility.
A sharp buzz from the penthouse intercom shattered the fragile tension. My security feed flashed on a discreet panel – Sue Storm, looking impeccable and determined.
"Speak of the devil," I muttered, hitting the entry release. "Or, well, the Invisible Woman."
Mary tensed, instantly on guard. Her hand pressed harder against her belly. "What does she want?" The protective snarl was back.
"Probably heard about the dim sum," I offered weakly, trying to deflect.
Mary shot me a glare that could melt steel. "Don’t be cute, Hardin. Not now."
The elevator doors hissed open, and Sue walked in, radiating an aura of calm competence that felt utterly alien in the charged atmosphere. She took in the scene: the carnage of the takeout, Mary’s defensive posture on the sofa, me leaning awkwardly by the counter. Her gaze lingered briefly, almost clinically, on Mary’s glowing midsection before flicking to me.
"Ron," she greeted, her voice smooth. "Mary." A polite nod that held no warmth. "I hope I’m not interrupting."
"Just having dinner," Mary said flatly, challenge in her tone. She didn’t offer Sue a seat.
Sue ignored the barb. Her focus was laser-like. "Reed is… fascinated. And frankly, skeptical." She took a step further into the room, the city lights catching the platinum in her hair. "Jen’s descriptions of your… output… were… vivid. But Reed requires data. Empirical observation." She clasped her hands in front of her. "I’m here to collect it."
My stomach dropped. "Sue, now really isn't—"
"You knew?" Mary’s voice cracked, cutting me off. She surged to her feet, the sofa groaning in protest. Her eyes blazed, the glow in her belly pulsing brighter as if mirroring her anger. "You knew she was coming? That I’d be here? To be… studied? Like some goddamn lab rat?" The air crackled with the potential for her super-strength to shatter something expensive. Or me.
"Sue called earlier," I admitted, holding my hands up placatingly. "I didn’t know she’d come tonight. And Mary, it’s not like that." I turned to Sue. "Is it?"
Sue remained unruffled. "It’s scientific inquiry, Mary. Nothing more. Reed believes Ron’s physiology represents a unique biological anomaly with potential applications far beyond…" She paused, choosing her words carefully. "...procreation. Understanding it could be beneficial. And I agreed to specific parameters." Her gaze met mine, direct and uncompromising. "I trust you recall our agreement, Ron? On top. Fifteen minutes. I remain in control."
Mary let out a harsh, disbelieving laugh. "You’re joking. You’re actually going to… with her? Right now? In front of me?" She gestured wildly at the dim sum carnage. "While I’m sitting here… like this?" Her hand flattened protectively over her glow.
"Sue," I said, my voice low and urgent. "This is a terrible idea. Another time. Please."
Sue’s expression didn’t waver. Her resolve was a palpable thing. "The data point is timely. Reed needs preliminary readings. The conditions are acceptable. My control is absolute." She took another step towards me, her eyes holding mine. "Unless you’re reneging on our agreement?"
The accusation hung there. Backing out now would look suspicious, cowardly. It would fuel Reed’s curiosity and possibly Mary’s rage further. I saw the calculation in Sue’s eyes – this wasn’t just science; it was a test. Of me. Of the situation. Of Mary’s volatile state.
Mary watched us, her breath coming faster, the glow beneath her hand flickering erratically. Her face was a mask of fury, betrayal, and something else… a raw, unsettling vulnerability. The woman who’d once crushed tanks with her bare hands looked seconds away from shattering.
Sue raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow, waiting. The hum of the city below seemed to fade. The only sounds were Mary’s ragged breathing and the frantic pounding of my own heart.
The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, until Sue tilted her head, a scientist observing a critical reaction. "Well, Ron? Shall we proceed? Time is a factor." Her gaze flickered towards Mary’s belly, then back to me. "Especially considering the… unique biological environment currently present."
Mary made a choked sound deep in her throat. Her knuckles were white where she gripped the back of the sofa. The faint, rhythmic pulse of the glow inside her seemed to quicken, responding to the unbearable tension coiling tighter and tighter in the room, a silent, luminous counterpoint to the storm about to break.