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Bruce sat at the table, staring at the small box in front of him. It was addressed to Natasha Romanov, who, he knew, lived in apartment 32. Not 23. Which was fine, it's not like he had never messed up his address when buying stuff off the internet. It wasn't even how that the box was adorned with a few customs stamps and Thai script. No, it was that the thing beeped. Exactly every half hour. Beep.
At first, Bruce had thought the beeping was some electronic device of his complaining that the batteries were running low. Or maybe his computer. But after a bit of searching – because beeping should not be ignored – he had located the box as the source.
8 pm. Mrs. Romanov should be home by now. The next beep would come in 13 minutes.
Bruce sighed and got up, picking up the box and making his way up the stairs to the third floor. Arriving at the door to 32, he could hear noise, which was good because he had already made two trips up here in vain.
„Hello?“ He rapped on the door, and it only took about ten seconds before it opened.
„Hey,“ the redhead greeted him, a small smile on her face.
„Um, I think this belongs to you?“ Bruce offered her the box and grinned: „You messed up the apartment numbers.“
Natasha gave a short laugh: „Damn. Sorry about that. That's why you should always check any information twice.“
„By the way, it beeps.“
Natasha raised one well-shaped eyebrow: „It does?“
„Yep.“ Bruce said, then looked at his watch, „should beep again in about 9 Minutes. Maybe,“ he gave Natasha a sly smile, „you should do something about that before Homeland Security comes down on you. I've been told they have a thing about beeping boxes.“
„Oh, I'm probably on their list anyway.“ Natasha waved a hand, obviously completely unconcerned about paranoid government agencies. Then, she inclined her head to the side, looking at him in a way that made Bruce be unsure about if he wanted to run away or move closer: „Since you put yourself in danger of being put on a list, how about a coffee? I'd feel bad for not compensating you.“
Bruce chuckled: „Oh, I'm probably on their list, too. Work. But I won't say no to a coffee.“
Natasha stepped aside and motioned for him to come in: “You probably know the layout. These apartments all look the same.”
“Probably,” Bruce said with a chuckle. “Although mine lacks this.”
He moved towards the small glass vivarium, peering inside: “What do you keep in there?”
“Boris,” Natasha answered. “A tarantula.”
“An unusual pet,” Bruce commented, turning towards Natasha, “I’ve seen some during my time in South America. Some species are quite beautiful.”
“Oh, she is. She’s my baby,” Natasha said with something of a proud smile.
“She? From the name I’d assumed…”
“When I bought her I thought she was male. Turns out she wasn’t,” Natasha chuckled. “You go ahead into the living room, I’ll put on our coffee.” She turned around to go, then turned back to Bruce, proffering the box to him: “Could you put this on the coffee table?”
“You don’t plan on blowing me up, do you?” Bruce said with a grimace, then smiled to show her he didn’t mean it.
“If I were to do that, I wouldn’t be so stupid as to do it in my own apartment, Bruce.”
“That makes… hey!” It had taken his brain two seconds to notice, but: “How do you know my name? I didn’t introduce myself.”
Natasha smiled benignly: “It’s on your mailbox.”
“My last name.”
“The mail sticks out sometimes.”
Bruce gave her a sideways look: “You better be some kind of spy, else I’m going to worry that you’re a stalker.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not a stalker,” Natasha said with a low chuckle, then moved on into the kitchen.
Bruce put the box down on the coffee table and sat down on the couch. Well, Natasha was certainly an interesting person. Quite mysterious, in a way. Bruce liked mysteries. That’s why he had gone into science.
While Natasha was gone, Bruce took a moment to look around the living room. There wasn’t much in terms of personal things, no hints of who the person living here was. More mysteries. Although, one thing did stick out from the sleek austerity of the rest of the room: a gaming console with a huge pile of games stacked up next to it.
“You a gamer?” Bruce asked when Natasha came back, a mug of steaming coffee in each hand.
“Oh yes. There’s nothing like kicking back and spend some time in a virtual world after all the stress of the real one.”
Bruce grinned: “I’m in total agreement with that. Hey, what do you say that we maybe get together some time? I haven’t had anyone to really game with for a long time.”
“Sure,” Natasha said, blowing over the rim of her mug. “Maybe we can get Steve to join us.” Seeing Bruce’s slightly confused expression, she went on: “Steve Rogers. Lives a few doors down. He looks all nice and wholesome, but let me tell you, he’s bastard as soon as he gets his hands on a controller.”
“The more the merrier,” Bruce said with a chuckle. Then, he looked at his watch: “Ok. Time for the beep.”
Natasha sat up, looking at the box expectantly. And there it was. Beep, beep.
“Told you.” Bruce raised an eyebrow at Natasha: “So, how about you clear up the mystery and show me what’s in there?”
“All right. I’ll let you in on my deep dark secret,” Natasha said, giving him a teasing smile.
She went to a set of drawers and, after a bit of rummaging, pulled out a small knife. Then, she positioned herself in a way that made it impossible for Bruce to peek into the box while it was opened.
Finally, Natasha turned around, holding… a stop watch. “Tadaaaaa.”
“Aw. Now that’s what I call anticlimactic,” Bruce groaned. Then, he laughed: “I guess I was expecting something bigger, after all the ideas I came up with.”
“Sorry to disappoint,” Natasha said with a short laugh. “Somehow, it must have gotten activated during transport.”
Sitting down next to Bruce again, she put the watch down on the table between them before giving him an unreadable smile: “But hey, it did make your day a bit more interesting, right?”
“Hm, yes,” Bruce replied, smiling back, “that it did.”