Anger Management
Nina

Summary :

After the Thor, Lord of Thunder affair, Jane and Erik went to work for S.H.I.E.L.D. Some would have thought Darcy would follow them to the end of the world. But unfortunately for her, as soon as she got her credit, she was kindly thanked and sent back to New York. Now working as a waitress, living with a blonde flat mate, she tries to pay her bills and survive. There is so much rage in her she feels she could go green any minute.
So when she meets the jolly green giant in a park, trying very much to smash the ducks in the pond, she can actually relate to him.

Notes :

1) I do apology for English isn't my native tongue and I might butcher it a bit. Hopefully, my beta Karen will help me with that.

2) I kinda… well I totally took some details from Kat Dennings' show, 2 Broke girl$. While not a crossover, this would be more of a… homage? Allusion? Shameless copy?

3) Of course this is a non-profit story. If fan fiction was lucrative, how many of us would be multi-billionaires?

Part 1: Running and Ricochets

When Darcy comes back from work she tends to go straight home, she kicks off her shoes under her roommate's Murphy bed that's always down, strips form her fugly mustard uniform and takes a beer from the bottom of her fridge. Since she came back from New Mexico, she's been so full of rage she could actually imagine herself kicking a puppy. Not kicking it literally, because they are so cute and she doesn't want PETA on her back (those crazy bitches can be worse than an iring Norse god with daddy issues, for sure.)
Sure, she's got this pretty…. Weird? Flat mate that used to be rich and brings a whole new sort of crazy in her life. But she sure misses her old one, when she got to roam around the country chasing thunder storms and other rainbow roads that lead to other universes.

Now everything seems bleak and terribly boring. She got to taze the god of thunder (which may seem redundant) Now she gets to take the crap from hipsters (Gods how she hates them!) and the other customers. Every time she smiles and smiles and secretly curses them but every time it is harder and harder.
She had sass before. Now, it's more bitchiness with borderline psycho. There is so much rage in her, she wouldn't be surprised she turned green and start smashing something. Someone. Yep, she would totally kill someone. And while planning murder in your head and imagining how cathartic it would feel may be quite tantalizing, the consequences of concretizing those fantasies might not be good for her in the long run.
So instead, she hops into the old pair of sweat shorts she's been using to sleep, and the old hoodie with stains and burned hole from cooking and…. Not cooking. And she goes running.

There's a park not far from the house, quite big and really calm (except for your every homeless guy and crack head from time to time). She's seen plenty of people going there for a run, and it can't be worse than running on the pavement. And a bit of green is never a bad thing.
Except that she forgot how difficult it is to run. Even her favourite playlist playing on her iPod is not helping the fact that she hasn't done any sports in a long time and maybe (maybe) she should cut the cupcake dough tasting every time she's doing a batch. And that's how she stops, after 10 minutes of pure hell, breathless and sweaty and with every inches of her body protesting against the abuse it's going under. And when she thinks she's going to spit at least one of her lungs, she decides to look around, panting. There is no one around. Nada. Nothing. Niet. This part of the park is totally deserted. Not even a bird singing or a bee buzzing.

Actually, this is wrong. There is someone. Something. A great big bundle of green muscles sitting by the lake. The jolly green giant doesn't seem that jolly, huffing and puffing at the ducks on the water. Now, swans, she would understand, those are the stupidest, most dangerous birds that ever set foot on earth. They are the honey badgers of the ponds. Small, but lethal. She's not sure the Hulk could defeat them. But ducks? Come on!
So she does what no normally constituted person would do, she comes closer to the giant.

"… Eyh, Big guy…?"

She uses the waitress voice, but with a softness she is not used to. She's maybe reckless, but she's not suicidal. She doesn't want to be smashed. And when the creature/man/monster turns his snarling head to see who's having the guts to address him, she barely keeps herself from backing up. Showing her hands to prove she doesn't have any weapons (except for the pink tazer she "borrowed" from her roommate's purse hidden in her hoodie's pocket)

" Wow wow wow wow. Don't worry. I'm not armed. I'm not sure I could actually beat you with anything… Wow, in the TV you seemed… well… greener?"

The Hulk looks at her intensely. She wonders why sometimes she lets her instincts take over. She might get killed one day. And that day might be coming earlier that she thinks.

"You looked like you were going to reduce those poor birds in the lake to smithereens. I know walking in the grass and stepping on duck poo isn't particularly nice, but it's not worth killing them. "

"Hulk smash ducks."

"Yeah, well, if you want to smash them, you could at least eat them. I know a really good recipe if you want, but it's better to take a duck raised in a farm, not in a public park where it might have been eating radioactive corn… or bread."

Hulk looks at the tiny human. She's out of breath; he can hear it in her voice. Yet, she doesn't stop talking. She doesn't seem to understand she could be smashed any seconds now. The female human smells good, like sweat and flowers mixed together. She has been running. From what? Was she chased? Humans are such pathetic creatures, so little and fragile, Hulk would break their heads with just one finger. But chasing a tiny female which, with the size of her breast, must be breastfeeding, that is not good. Not good at all and it makes him angry. The big breasted female flinches when he roars but doesn't step back. She's brave. Or particularly foolish.

"Wow Big Guy! Ok, no ducks. You've got anger issues, dude, you know that?"

"Why run?"

"Who, me? Is that so obvious that it's a first time for me?"

The blank look he sends her makes her smile. He seems surprised by her reaction.

"I've got anger issues too. I thought I could vent it and lose some weight in the process. You know, the "killing two birds in one stone" thing. I was wrong to think it could be fun. It's Hell. Don't do it."

"Boobs want to kill birds?"

"No, it's like an expression, dude. It means I can do two things in one go and save time…. Wait a minute? Did you just call me Boobs?"

Hulk is surprised. The tiny human looks angry. She may be tiny, but she's got a big mouth.

"That's how it is, eh? Men and big boobs, what's with you? And it's not even a V-neck. That's not how you talk to a lady, dude. It's Darcy. Darcy! Like the guy with the wet shirt and terrible social skills from the Jane Austen book. Not that I expect you to have read it. Do you even know how to read?"

"Tiny big Boobs is noisy."

"It's DARCY!"

The Hulk growls. How dare she shout at him like that?

"Now don't rawr at me like that, young man. I'm the one with the shitty life. You've got to be green, a superhero and smash stuff. I just get to run. And it is not. Cool. Not cool."

The Hulk is impressed. For the first time in his life, he's being lectured. Angry Darcy is angry. She's like Hulk.

"Angry Darcy run. Not angry anymore?"

"… Angry Darcy. Now you talk my language, dude. Well, It's supposed to help you. Not that it really works on me. I'll just end with a sore back and sweat dripping from my clothes. Yuck. What about you? What do you do to vent? I mean, except killing the birds?

"Hulk smash"

"Well I suppose you do. Have you ever considered taking a hobby? A sport of some kind maybe? Cause, I mean, of course smashing is totally cool, but it may become boring after a while. Plus it's quite expensive. And you get to piss people off"

"Not pissed if them dead."

" Well yeah… I suppose. But then you'll piss their families. And then, have them on your back. It's a vicious circle dude. You could do other stuff. Not Macramé or Knitting, obviously, but… Eyh! What do you know about ricochets?"