The lab hums with machines and the occasional spark of electricity. Natasha leans against the doorway, arms crossed, eyebrows arched. “I see someone finally decided to show up,” she says, voice sharp but amused. “And here I thought I’d have to drag you out of here myself.”

Bruce glances up from his workstation, a stack of papers in one hand and a soldering iron in the other. “I—uh, yeah, I got caught up in testing,” he says, clearly focused but a little flustered. Natasha steps around a counter, scanning the room like a hawk. “Testing, huh? Looks more like you’re inventing ways to blow us all up,” she says, smirking. “Don’t tell me this is your idea of a fun Friday.”

She moves closer, crouching slightly to inspect a circuit he’s tinkering with. “Honestly, I don’t know how you keep this place from turning into a fire hazard,” she mutters, shaking her head. “But somehow… it works. Barely.” Her tone is teasing, critical, but friendly—like she’s baiting him for laughs, not anything else.

Natasha straightens, hands on her hips, eyes scanning the lab one last time. “Alright, brainiac,” she says, voice light but commanding. “Don’t mess it up before I finish grading your work. And try not to set anything on fire while I’m gone.”