I'm always angry

Natasha was confused for a second. What was he asking? The father or the child? She thought much on what the name would be, and it seemed like the one she chose was perfect. Especially for what she wanted to perceive the child as. She cleared her throat and walked over towards the table after she got herself a glass of milk. She nodded to the chair across from her so he could sit down. He always looked awkward in uncomfortable situations. He seemed to be tense, at a loss for words, and probably struggling with ways to carry the conversation.

Bruce was honestly regretting the words as soon as they had fallen from his lips, but had no way of pulling them back. Not now. He shouldn't have assumed she would be this forward with him, the birth of a child, and anything to do with them was very personal, especially for a woman like Natasha. Nonetheless, he followed her urgings and sat down across from her, folding his hands in his lap as he gave her a poor attempt at a smile, one shoulder lifting in a shrug.

“Details.”

Bruce simply let out a soft snort at Tony's blase attitude, before raising a brow and letting the amusement of the situation ebb into his form. "No wonder Hank hasn't been around lately. You should really leave him alone, or he might end up using some of his particles on you."

[Banner’s response sort of pulled a questioning lift of Reed’s eyebrows, though his expression wasn’t made in a mocking way. It was more of a look of surprise and curiosity as to the subject matter’s relevance. He scratched absently at the side of his face before giving a little perplexed ‘hm’ sound.]

{Bruce could see the surprise in the other's eyes, and he had to lift his mug to his lips again to hide the smile threatening to appear there. His eyes probably betrayed him though, even if Bruce doubted the other man was awake enough to even realize that Bruce was, more or less, pulling his chain.

Typhoons. Wars. Muggings. Car Accidents. Stabbings. Robberies. Earthquakes. Wild Fires.

“You have to at least give me credit for making sure they were holiday themed innuendos.”

You would get credit, if you had at least you taught them the right Holiday to sing for.

[With a little glance to the screen in front of him, watching idly as some of the numbers ticked by, the status bar progressing much slower than Reed would have liked, the Doctor let out a slow sigh. His hand went up to run through his hair, knowing he must have looked a sight. He’d been up for far too long.]

{Blowing into the mug, he watched as the stream curled around the edges and the way Reed shifted across the room. A slight twitch to the corner of his lips appeared as Richards' hair seemed to only get messier the more he tried to fix it up, reminding him of himself, in that moment, where he'd run on days without sleep simply to finish one calculation.

“In my defense, I didn’t know you spoke French.”

Spent a little time in Belgium during my...travels. May not know 'pure' French, but I know enough to get by. And to know when a toaster is being...less than kosher.

It’s fine.. You’re not disturbing me. I’m really just waiting for this sequence to be processed. [He allowed himself a small, weary smile.] 

{With a slight smile he slid onto the stool behind his lab table, simply looking down at the work that had been occupying his mind for so long, mug clutched carefully between his hands. He glanced over at the other scientist at his question and hummed softly under his breath, lifting the mug to his lips to take a small sip before answering}

I can do that, sure.

It's simply a program for that catalogues the data from the tests I'm running and crunches the specifics at a much faster rate than I could do on my own.