Hulk

to be alcohol, and immediately ignited it. A fire roared to life in a heartbeat, and the others ran screaming from the room.
Bruce staggered to his feet, staring at the fire, and the burning was reflected in his eyes as his body started to convulse again. He fought to contain it
. . . smash it, bad things will happen, smash it . . .
just as he always did, for reasons long forgotten but deeply ingrained. But the images of the laughing kids kept coming at him, and for once, just once, he wanted to cut loose . . .
. . . and suddenly an automatic fire alarm started to clang. The overhead sprinkler system snapped on line, and cool water soaked Bruce to the skin, calming him. He stood there, letting it come, letting it extinguish the fire in front of him—and the fire within—at least temporarily.

desire
Betty strode along the main Tarmac of Desert Base. A typical blast of heat rolling off the desert hit her in the face, but she had readapted to it by this point. Her father came right after her, shouting, “Hold it right there, young lady! We weren’t finished talking!”
She moved with the coltish grace that had become hers as she hit her late teens. She was clad in tight-fitting jeans and a Metallica T-shirt that her father absolutely despised, which was why she wore it at least twice a week. Some passing soldiers glanced at them, and Betty snapped off, “Eyes front, soldiers!” They promptly found something else to be interested in as Thunderbolt Ross came up behind her.
“I said we weren’t finished talking!” he snapped at her.
She turned and looked him angrily in the face, making her the only person in the area who was capable of doing so. “When did we start talking? When do we ever start? You talk, I listen. That’s about as far as it goes!”
“That’s as far as it needs to go,” Ross told her. “Is it true? What Glen told me? That you broke it off with him?”
She drew herself up. “Yes, that’s right.”
“Why the blue blazes would you do that?”
“Because I only went out with him to make you happy, Dad, believe it or not. And he was talking about marriage. About building a life together.”
Ross’s eyes widened. “And what’s wrong with that? He’s an up-and-coming lieutenant! I brought him out here because he’s going places and—”
“And because you wanted to hook him up with me. I’m not stupid, Dad. You’ve had your eye on him ever since Maryland.”
“And what if I did?” demanded Ross. “I’m just watching out for your best interests.”
“It’s my best interests if this was 1962! You want me to get married and be a good little army wife, throwing nice demure parties when hubby brings home officers, raising as many children as my husband chooses to produce, and otherwise keeping my big mouth shut!”
“It was good enough for your mother!”
Her face went ashen, and she could see that the moment the words had escaped his lips he regretted having said them. Before he could recant them, she said coldly, “I’m not Mom. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to live up to her example. Maybe I should have just died and then you’d be happy.”
“Betty!” He looked taken aback. “Now you’re just saying things to try to hurt me, is that it?”
Indeed, that was true, and she was as sorry for it as much as he’d been moments earlier. But she wasn’t about to back down, not now. She looked at the tops of her sneakered feet and said, “You just don’t understand, that’s all.”
“Then explain it to me,” he said. “We’re both intelligent people. You should be able to explain why you tossed aside a man like Glen Talbot, why you—”
She sighed in exasperation. “Dad, Glen isn’t what you think he is.”
“Oh? And what do I think he is?”
“You. You think he’s a young version of you. But he’s not, I’m telling you. I got a chance to know him . . . really know him. He’s always making plans. . . .”
“And what’s wrong with that?” demanded Ross. “We need more strategists in—”
But she shook her head. “Not strategies, Dad, and maybe ‘plans’ isn’t even the right word. ‘Schemes’ is probably more accurate. He’s got a lot more up his sleeve than his arm, Dad. I mean, we’ve had our disagreements, heaven knows.” He rolled his eyes at the understatement, but she continued, “But there’s one thing I’ve never doubted, and that’s your love for this country. You place it and its citizens and your responsibility for protecting them above everything. Even me.”
“That’s not true, Betty.”
“Yes, it is,” she said, and forced a smile, “and that’s not automatically a bad thing. And maybe someday, when I’m older, I won’t take it so personally. The point is,” she continued before he could interrupt, “Glen’s an opportunist. An opportunist and a power seeker. I just . . . I just know it. Watch your back with him when I’m not around.”
“Oh, really. And where might you be going?”
She took a deep breath, preparing for the plunge. “I’ve been accepted to Berkeley.”
“What?” He gaped at her. “That’s absurd! What do you need with college? For that matter, you’re only a high school sophomore!”
“Dad, did you ever look at any of my transcripts? All I’ve taken are accelerated courses and extra credit on top of that, and aced them all. While you were busy getting Desert Base organized, I was blowing through high school. You were just too busy to notice. I nailed my SATs and got accepted for early admission.”
“You couldn’t have applied,” Ross said defiantly. “You have to have a parent sign the application form—”
“You did. I slipped it in when you were at home doing some paperwork. You’re so conditioned to signing next to wherever someone sticks a Post-it note, it was no problem.”
“Oh,” he said, and then rallied. “And what about application fees? Where did