Once there was a girl; now there is a woman.

When Bruce was in college, there had been this girl. He helped her study, brought her little gifts, took her out, spent weeks softening her up, and one night was led to believe he might actually, finally, get in her pants. She'd had no plans for anything of the kind however.

Looking back, he would laugh to himself and wonder at not turning into a green monster right then and there. Instead he had stalked out of the building and into the parking lot, sure that he was going to suffer some kind of permanent physical damage from the frustration.

He leaned against the back of his car, too full of throbbing and hormones to be able to drive, much less fold himself into the tiny sports car. Then, looking for some sort of outlet, he'd grabbed the bumper and lifted. He strained with all his might, and the car rocked. He even imagined he lifted it off the ground a little, and his arms bulged with the effort. Blood surged back into the rest of his body and when he let go, he felt relaxed again. Drained. Almost, though not quite, as though he'd done it with the girl.

Being the Other Guy was like needing to have sex when he was Bruce. The problem was, there were not many things that the Other Guy had to exert himself to damage or lift or hit. That hammer of Thor's was one of those things though. They told him he had tried lifting it and couldn't, then wouldn't just let it go. He was still trying, teeth clenched and feet pushing into the flooring, when Thor knocked him back. If that hadn't happened, if he'd kept trying, that probably would have been the end right then. The combination of useless striving and repetitiveness finally draining the Other Guy, and he would leave.

Something both he and the monster shared was that unwillingness to let something go, literally or figuratively. It was never done, nothing ever finished, for them whether for good or ill. Annoying military plane not shooting at him anymore? Wreck it anyway. Giant alien attack-whale creature dead? Punch Thor instead. Tony Stark not dead? Well, the Other Guy had managed to not hit him at least, but yelling had helped. Then, when either there was nothing to fixate on, or satisfaction took too long, Bruce could take over again. Mostly.

But life for him now was one of those lucid dreams that can sort of be controlled, though things don't always turn out the way intended. How to find satisfaction was a continual source of conflict between the two of them. When the Other Guy was frustrated Bruce was too, which led directly to his current problem. He needed a woman, and they both had a specific one in mind.


A/N: I originally wrote the kernel of this as part of Terrorist, but decided no to use it. Not sure where I'm going with it yet, if anywhere. Could be serious, could be humorous, depending on why exactly he wants this particular woman, whoever she is . . . Any suggestions?