Typically he stayed away from public places, but the motel room he was staying in didn't have a kitchen, and there was only so long he could live off of poptarts and microwave meals.

The restaurant sported an open 24 hours sign, and since Bruce didn't even get off work until 8:30 at night anyway, he went in at nine.

It was a bit more crowded than expected, with two truckers drinking coffee in a corner and a gaggle of teenagers eating brownies and pie, but all in all, it wasn't that crowded. The grumpy hostess told him to sit wherever, and he slid into a booth by the window where he could see the entirety of the small diner.

Shifting uncertainly he glanced over at the teenagers. He had a pretty good handle on himself, but the prospect of hurting kids made him uneasy. He had just made up his mind to leave when he was suddenly confronted with a pretty pink smile.

The woman connected to the smile was, overall, exceedingly average, she was, perhaps, a little short and skinny, but her face was rather plain. Bruce, however, was struck with an indescribable feeling that told him he simply could not leave; perhaps it was her smile, it had been a long time since someone had smiled at him like that.

"Hey, handsome," she said, voice smooth and sweet like southern honey, "What's a fine man like you doing around these parts?"

Bruce chuckled. He always liked it when waitresses flirted with him; the thrill of being found attractive paired with the knowledge that nothing was ever going to happen.

"Just moved to town," he told her, smiling shyly, "I'm working as an electrician for Ben Hartman."

The waitress grinned again. "If I knew someone as good-looking as you would be fixin' the wires things might end up broken more often."

Bruce laughed, and was about to respond when he was interrupted by a loud yell.

"Sarah!"

It was one of the teenagers, a scrappy boy with a bad haircut and a band t-shirt. The waitress, Sarah, rolled her eyes.

"See you in a minute, honey. I gotta go take care of this."

Bruce nodded to show he understood, and the waitress sped off to the other side of the room.

It seemed that the kids just wanted to get their bill, and Bruce quietly watched as the girls and boys argued over who owed what. The waitress, Sarah, laughed and joked beside them and called them all by name. As Sarah accepted a kiss on the cheek from one of the older boys, Bruce began to feel very stupid.

She was obviously older than the high-schoolers, but he was still at least a decade older than her. He wasn't naive enough to imagine that he would have any chance with her, but thoughts had a tendency to turn into actions, so thoughts had to be guarded just as closely. He was dangerous, and he could not afford to forget that.

The waitress turned around and flashed him a smile.

He buried his face in his menu.

The diner served the ordinary barrage of greasy foods and southern specialties, and Bruce scanned it halfheartedly as the teenagers got up and left, making his eyes avoid the sway of Sarah's hips as she walked back to his table.

"Sorry 'bout that, Sugar, but I figured that you'd rather have me get them out as quick as possible. They're nice kids, but they're awful loud, specially that Danial. Anyway, what'd you like to drink?"

"Tea, unsweetened," he answered, not unkindly.

She seemed to understand that the time for conversation had passed, so she nodded and went back to the kitchen to get it.

Bruce looked around the restaurant again, taking in the old photos and novelty decorations before the waitress brought back his tea.

"You know what you want, honey? Or do you need a bit more time?"

The food was good, the diner smelled like cornbread, and Bruce felt more content than he had in years. He finished everything on his plate, tipped the waitress well, and went back to his motel to dream a dreamless sleep.

While he didn't go back to the diner in over a week, he learned quite a bit about the waitress with some well-placed questions.

He learned that most people thought that she was pretty, in a plain, old-fashioned way, and that she had the sweet, polite, and happy manner expected from a classic southern girl. She had worked nightshifts at the local diner for the past eighteen months, so when she started people started to shift their dinners to eight and nine. She smiled freely, waited dutifully, and kept her skirt high enough to tantalize, but that was all anyone knew.

She had been the talk of the town when she first moved there, but people's interest had tapered off over time. Many people had asked her out, as friends or love interests, but she turned them all down, preferring to stay by herself. She had moved to Alabama only a month before she had started working, and no one really knew where she came from, but her small house on the edge of town had been paid for entirely in cash.

The more Bruce learned about her, the more he wanted to know.

She was on the run, that much was obvious to someone who had been running for years, but from who? And why?

Bruce knew he should not stick his nose where it did not belong, but he was curious; it had been a long time since he had had a friend, and it was hard to find someone with similar life experiences. Lonely as Bruce was, though, he would not out her, not even just between them. He placated himself by going to the diner every few days and contented himself knowing that there was someone in his same situation.

Everything was normal, or about as normal as his life could get. He worked hard, read excessively, ate cheap food, and paid in cash. His life was filled with yoga, wires, and waitresses, and though he might not have been happy, he was content.

That is, until Birmingham.

A/N

Thanks so much for reading! This story takes place after the incredible hulk movie and a little over a year before Avengers. With any luck it will go all the way through the current movies. Reviews are appreciated!