Okay, so wow! I was so excited to see all the favorites, story-alerts, author alerts, and community adds…I'm especially grateful to the reviewers. Feedback is essential after all.

KelpBass, and b (thanks! here you go, hope you like it), Currybean (thanks a ton! I love these characters, so that means a lot to me. thank you, wow)

I really hope everyone enjoys this new chapter. :)

I don't own The Avengers. Tony would just buy himself back. (I don't own other things referenced either).


Bruce woke, his eyes flickering to a freshly painted white ceiling. He felt the panic rising within him. Where was he? He forced himself to breath slowly, not wanting to have an incident first thing in the morning. His heart rate slowed as the memories of yesterday's events came rushing back to him. At that point Bruce didn't know whether to groan or smile. He settled for both, and then got up to wash his face in the adjoining bathroom.

He ignored his reflection in the mirror above the sink. Instead he focused his eyes on the stack of fresh towels laid on the counter. It was like he was staying at a fancy hotel. The idea that he would allow himself to stay in a building full of people was ridiculous, but that didn't stop him from taking a long steaming hot shower.

Only when he stepped back into the borrowed bedroom did he notice he had no clean clothes to wear. He had resigned himself to putting back on the same sweaty, torn, shawarma grease covered clothes from yesterday, when he suddenly caught sight of a piece of paper taped to the closest on the other side of the room.

'noticed your wardrobe was lacking, had Jarvis order these specially for youTony.'

The words were messily scrawled, and the message was a lot shorter than one would expect from the voluble rich guy. This was probably due to the fact that Tony rarely did something as low tech as write by hand. It was a nice gesture, though Bruce did not appreciate the thought of someone sneaking into the room in the middle of the night. Usually Bruce had better awareness than that, he supposed he had been more tired than he had realized.

He opened the closet door and froze at the sight of all the designer shirts, pants, and accessories. Though the clothes were more streamlined than he was used to, Bruce saw that Tony had taken care to include suitably stretchy pants. Bruce shook his head, picking out some of the simpler items. The most extravagant looking thing he ended up putting on were a pair of purple boxers.

Feeling refreshed in more ways than one, he stepped out of his temporary room and looked around. The entire floor was empty, and some areas were covered in plastic, waiting for further construction. "Ah, Jarvis?" Bruce asked suddenly.

"Yes, Dr. Banner? Good morning sir," Came the electronically British voice.

"I um, good morning," Bruce repeated. "I was wondering where everybody else had gotten to." As soon as words were out of his mouth he realized there was a high probability that the other three had left already. Romanoff and Barton seemed to strive for independency as much as possible, and there wasn't much love between Tony and the Captain.

"Agent Romanoff, Agent Barton, Miss Potts, Master Stark, and a disgruntled Captain Rodgers are all located in the kitchen and dinning area two floors above you," Jarvis informed him. Bruce smiled openly, getting into the elevator.

"I'm guessing that Tony's doing something to get on the Captain's nerves?" He said aloud. Tony succeeded at this without even trying.

"The combination of Master Stark's antics and the modern appliances seems to be rather overwhelming for Captain Rodgers. Here you are sir." The elevator doors opened.

Tony and Rodgers were arguing in a kitchen unit. They stood over the stove, Rodgers grumbling about something while Tony fiddled with a radio that was blasting rock music.

Pepper and Romanoff sat at a table not too far away, chatting amicably. Barton was seated at Romanoff's other side, straddling the back of his chair, staring vaguely at the floor.

Bruce walked in as quietly as possible, not wanting to ruin the nice atmosphere.

Romanoff and Barton spotted him first, inclining their heads identically towards him. Pepper gave him a welcoming smile.

"Morning Dr. Banner!" She called.

Tony and Rodgers turned together, breaking from their squabble for a moment to greet him.

"Good morning Dr. Banner, hope you've slept well," Rodgers cleared his throat.

"Uh yeah, thanks." Bruce nodded. Honestly it had been the best sleep he'd had for as far back as he could remember. Even the details of his nightmares were pleasantly hazy. "You?"

"Yes, I had a good night's rest…and I tried to thank Tony for his hospitality but…" Rodgers gave an exasperated look at the other man.

"Hey, I was just wondering how you could possibly sleep any more after seventy years of it!" Tony defended himself. "Anyway, hi Banner," Tony gave him a little wave. "It's nice to see that somebody's wearing the clothes I laid out for them." Bruce wondered if everyone had gotten an entire new wardrobe.

"I'm fine like this," Romanoff answered. She was wearing black army style pants that were a bit large on her, and a grey men's t-shirt. Barton was wearing basically the same thing, though it fit him better. "Though talking about your choices, I would've you would have provided something skimpier." Barton and Rodgers frowned. Tony smiled nervously.

"Psh, I have more respect for you than that," Tony assured her.

"And more fear of the both of us," Pepper added in a tone that carried.

"I'm sure some of us are just more comfortable in our own clothes," Rodgers tried to mediate. He pulled at his SHIELD issue white t-shirt. Bruce felt certain that the old-fashioned brown trousers must have been custom made for the man out of time.

"Yeah well, your clothes are amazingly boring," Tony told him. He looked down at himself, appearing quite pleased with the ACDC shirt, and baggy jeans. Rodgers shrugged, and turned to Bruce.

"If you'd like, I'm trying to fix some breakfast," He said. "Only both the stove and its owner are being very uncooperative."

"I tried, but one can only simplify things to a certain extent." Tony clicked his tongue. "Maybe you'll have more luck." He clapped Bruce on the shoulder. "Explain to the capsicle why my customized stove still works." Bruce scratched his head.

"It's arc reactor powered?" He asked. Tony smiled at the question.

"Ah, well in a matter of speaking it is, but ignoring the possible detrimental effects of using the building as a power source for what could have been an Einstein-Rosen bridge, the thermodynamics are still a little"

"Please no more," Rodgers groaned. Bruce blinked.

"Um Captain Rodgers," He began.

"Steve is fine," Steve cut in. "I rarely get to be just Steve any more." Bruce nodded, he could relate.

"Steve. Right. This isn't really my thing, but I guess this building has it's own private energy source, which continues to recycle itself. So the stove still heats... despite much of the electricity and gas being down around the city."

"Oh…" Steve looked at Tony. "You know, that's all you had to say, I'm not stupid or anything."

"I keep forgetting you don't speak English." Tony nodded solemnly. Then a wide grin spread across his face. "Ooh, Jarvis, turn the radio up to eleven pronto."

"…Very well Master Stark." Bruce could almost swear that he heard the AI sigh.

The music blasted through the speakers and it became apparent why Tony loved it so much.

"This is my song! Literally." Tony added. "I, am, Iron Man…" He sang along.

"Unbelievable." Steve shook his head.

"I'll help you with that," Bruce offered to Steve. The physicist's stomach growled audibly at the sight of the food lined up on the counters. Steve chuckled. Tony danced around, singing loudly in both men's ears.

"That would be great," Steve sighed, shoving Tony out of the way. Bruce reached into his pocket and put on his glasses.

Between the two of them, food was quickly sizzling in the pans. Barton jerked his head up, sniffing the air. Bruce watched warily as the archer slunk over and did a quick search of the cabinets. Barton was stacking a large pile of dishes and silverware in his arms, but there was a slight limp to his gait. Bruce rubbed his chin.

"Barton do you need—" He started to ask.

"Doctor, the bacon!" Steve cried out. Smoke clouded Bruce's eyes glasses.

"Shit." Bruce pulled the pan off the stove to prevent the food from burning further. He glanced over to see how Barton was doing, and was relieved to see him standing at the table. Romanoff and Pepper were helping him set the table. "Sorry Steve, I'll make some more."

"This next song sucks," Tony announced disappointedly, finally getting Jarvis to switch off the sound system. He looked around him. "Huh, a nice little family breakfast. Cute." His tone was a mixture of mocking and hidden genuineness.

Bruce couldn't remember the last time he'd had a family meal. He supposed he blocked out most of those memories. A look passed across Romanoff's face. Barton grunted. Bruce had been almost glad that the information Shield had provided him was brief. There were certain details about a person that should stay private. Steve silently plated the potatoes.

"Food's finished," He announced.

"It looks great," Pepper said brightly. She popped up and helped Steve bring the food over to the table. Bruce blinked, walking over and sitting between Tony and Steve. Pepper turned and smiled at him. "You're actually better off that Tony was too distracted to help. This one time it took him three hours to make me an omelet—"

"You're forgetting the context," Tony gesticulated excitedly. "Considering we were in a plane at the time, I thought I did rather well."

During the rest of the meal Pepper teased Tony with amusing anecdotes about their shared past. Steve occasionally asked a question, seeming interested in the chance at learning more about his teammate. Romanoff alternated between egging Pepper on, and watching Tony squirm with a smug expression on her face. The normally quiet Barton burst out in laughter a couple of times. Tony kept asking Bruce to 'help defend my honor,' but Bruce was frankly too amused to interfere. They all ate heartily.

Eventually Tony promised to do the dishes if Pepper stopped embarrassing him. Steve looked surprised by Tony's agreement.

"Some things she knows could scar you for life Cap." Tony told him, in all honesty. Steve looked thoughtfully for a moment, and then he frowned.

"I don't doubt that." He shuddered. "Promise never to tell me those things and I'll help you out." He motioned at the sink.

"Really?" Tony brightened.

"You wash, I'll dry." Steve nodded. Tony pouted.

"But I wanted to dry!"

"Okay, I'll wash then…" Steve didn't really care either way. Tony grinned.

"Great. You'll wash, you'll dry, and I'll skip ahead to receiving the gratitude from Pepper," He said. Pepper sat herself on a stool at the counter.

"Tony, if Steve does all the work, then he'll get all the gratitude," She told him, chastising.

"Ah ma'am," Pepper raised an eyebrow, Steve coughed. "I mean, Ms. Potts…"

"Lucky," Tony muttered.

Bruce and Barton laughed simultaneously. Their eyes met for a moment, but Agent Barton frowned, limping out of the room Bruce could say anything. Romanoff came up behind him.

"Don't mind him," She said quietly. Her expression was one of well-practiced polite professionalism. Bruce just shrugged.

"I don't mind," He didn't really, someone walking away without explanation wasn't the worst that had happened to him. And besides, he could think of quite a few things that would give Barton a valid reason for not wanting to be in the same room as him.

"Sure." Romanoff sounded unconvinced. "Anyway doctor, you've got me right where you want me. I surrender to you. Check me out all you like. I'm yours." Bruce stared at her blankly. Romanoff rolled her eyes. "Banner, I need your medical opinion on my neck."

"You kept telling me no," Bruce sighed, for a moment there…"What changed your mind?" He was curious. She had such a tough exterior. He had expected her to continue pushing him away, and denying she was in any pain. Romanoff pursed her lips.

"I haven't changed my mind. Not really. I just want you to tell me it's not a sprain."

"I won't lie to you to spare your feelings," Bruce told her unapologetically. He disliked white lies to begin with. Nowadays he preferred the truth no matter how bitter it became. Besides, when speaking of medical matters, there was no room for lying.

"I know. And I can respect that."

"I'm not a certified medical doctor. A physicist, not a physician," He warned her.

"I'm aware." Romanoff looked at him with her usually impassiveness.

"Alright," Bruce agreed. "Jarvis? Is there an accessible room in this place where I can find medical supplies?"

"Take the elevator around the corner, and then…"

Bruce followed the instructions, but his ears still perked up when Romanoff murmured under her breath.

"I'm fine, I am." She was clearly trying to convince herself of that.

"How did the injury occur?" He asked, trying to keep up the conversation.

"My head was jerked to the side," Romanoff gestured to show him. She wouldn't go into further detail. Bruce recalled the frustrated expression on Barton's face when he left the room. He decided not to comment.

"Okay. I'll just do a couple of tests and see what I can tell you."

Bruce thought Tony was right. This place was like candy land. It was a beautiful lab, clean surfaces, the newest, shiniest technology, and most of all, solitude. Bruce located the medical equipment he needed and instructed Romanoff to sit on one of the tables. She hopped up easily.

"First things first," Bruce raised a finger up and moved it left, right, up and down. "Can you follow my movements and tell me when it hurts the most. Where, specifically is the pain located?" Romanoff tilted and turned her head accordingly. "Good. You're movements are smooth enough. Where…?" She put her hand on the left curve of her neck, under her ear.

"Hmm… Excuse me." Bruce put his thumb against her neck and gently pressed. He watched for her any expression of pain out of the corner of his eye. Though, she would probably hide those from him. He pressed harder, feeling the swollen and tense muscle. It was a lot less tense than he had expected. "You've been putting ice on it?" He guessed aloud.

"That's right," Romanoff blinked.

"It's not as swollen as I would've expected by how it looked yesterday. There's some bruising." He removed his hand. "Tony has some fun tools here," He muttered to himself. He eyed a machine that was similar to an x-ray machine. "If you wouldn't mind, I could check for deep nerve and bone damage."

"Go ahead," Romanoff agreed, but Bruce saw a flicker in her eye that might have been annoyance.

"Am I moving too slowly for you Ms. Romanoff?" He asked.

"What? No, take you're time," She said. Bruce raised his eyebrows, bull's-eye. She was in a rush for some reason. Not that it was any of his business. He wouldn't ask.

Having used a more primitive version of the machine before, he managed to set it up correctly. Romanoff sat still as stone as a panel turned and the red light scanned across her. Then it relayed the information Bruce needed into a digital 3D scale model.

Thinking it might be interactive he pinched. He was right, it zoomed, and he pointed out to Romanoff were the problem was.

"You're bones are fine. It's not a sprain, only a strain. Some of the superficial muscles are overstretched, but there's no tearing. More ice, rest, and a skilled masseuse will help with healing and comfort."

Romanoff was trying not to show her relief, but Bruce saw her grip, which had been tight against the edge of the table a minute ago, now relax. "Thank you Banner." An earnest gratitude escaped into her tone. She made to stand, but Bruce shook his head.

"One moment, I'll run and get you some pain medication, I think there should be some in the back over there."

"Banner I don't need—"

"Just take it Romanoff, or else I'll feel like bad fake medic."

She gave him the smallest of smiles.

"If you insist."

Bruce went entered a separate room towards the back. There were rows and rows of pills, all carefully labeled with their uses. That was helpful, though it might take a while to find what he was looking for. He took his time, wanting to be sure of himself. Finally he examined a bottle of pills, nodded to himself. Then he froze, hearing yelling somewhere outside the door. He strode over to the door, and pressed his ear close against the surface. The words became clearer.

"—You know what Tasha? If you want to play house with Stark and the others, then fine, but leave me out of it!" Barton said angrily.

"Clint you need time to heal. There are no new missions for now. Fury has given us a mandatory break and you know how much of a hard ass he usually is with vacation days! I know Stark is a jerk, but Pepper, the Captain and Banner are pleasant enough," Romanoff responded in a more controlled tone.

Bruce shook his head, disbelievingly.

"Pleasant Nat? The Hulk almost killed you," Barton sounded strangled.

Bruce tensed. That was true. He had apologized, but what good was an apology when the Other Guy had nearly taken her life?

"That is not what this is about," Romanoff replied. "This is about you trying to slink off by yourself. There is no problem with going somewhere else to recuperate. You can make all the excuses you like, but if you just wanted to ditch the others then you wouldn't be trying to leave me behind. Explain Clint."

This was getting too personal. Bruce needed to get out of here before he messed something up. He quickly opened the door, awkwardly waving to Barton, who was standing extremely close, almost literally face to face with Romanoff. Neither of them said anything, though Barton's eyes narrowed. Bruce walked over and handed Romanoff the pills.

"Take two every six hours at the most, but uh, it says that on the bottle anyway…I'll just go now." He started towards the elevator.

"Does that clear your conscience? Do you think medication will fix the trauma you've caused her?" Barton questioned darkly. Bruce stopped suddenly, gritting his teeth. An inner growl resonated through him. This man was baiting him—didn't the human know what happened when he was provoked? Bruce shook his head, trying to rid himself of those thoughts.

"Well then Agent Barton, what would you have me do? Is there some sort of salvation you have in mind, or have you grown past such idealistic notions?" He turned. The expression on Barton's face mirrored Bruce's own feelings. Romanoff angled her body to protect Barton, her hand went to her hip, but she had no need to worry. Bruce's anger was ever present, but his bitterness often drowned it out.

Barton stared at Romanoff, "How…can you forgive…?" He murmured, almost wistfully, before stepping away. "Yeah Banner, you're right. Redemption is for kids. I'm a big boy." He shook off the hand Romanoff laid on his shoulder, and stomped away. Bruce thought he must be very angry indeed to put so much pressure on that injured ankle. The elevator door snapped shut.

"There goes Tony's promise of a relaxing environment," Bruce squeezed the bridge of his nose. Romanoff shrugged, her hand sliding away from her gun.

"Not if you go by his definition of the word."

Bruce snorted.

"True," He agreed.

The two of them stood silently. Bruce shifted uncomfortably. Romanoff stared at him intensely before letting out a small sigh.

"Barton is my partner, but he was out of line just now. Loki played us. He caused you to lose control, which wasn't a fun experience. Currently you are in control of yourself, so you are our ally."

"For now," Bruce frowned. "The Other Guy is volatile, he could turn on you without a thought."

"Then you'll just have to keep thinking."

"I'm being serious."

"So am I. When you willingly used the Hulk's power he was the most controlled disaster I've ever seen."

"Controlled?" That wasn't the first word that came to his mind when he thought of the destruction left in his path. "That's highly improbable."

"But not impossible?" Romanoff gave him a cat like smile. "I can get a good read off of people by watching them fight. You showed me that the Hulk can work with others. If you want to get all sentimental, you can even say the Hulk has the ability to care about others."

"What?" Bruce asked flatly. He could blearily remember flashes of images of a falling giant leviathan spaceship, and many lasers blasting towards him but… "Be more specific please, what exactly did I do that exhibited control and caring?"

Romanoff crossed her arms. "You really don't remember anything?" She asked.

"Nothing like that," He assured her.

"I was on the ground for most of the battle, and you were above, but you weren't hard to spot."

"I'll bet."

"It was interesting, a couple of your moves relied heavily on strategic thinking," She continued. Bruce blinked in surprise. "Particularly when you fought alongside Thor. Though of course the most remarkable moment was when—Banner, you really don't remember saving Stark's life?"

"What do you mean? What happened to Tony?" Bruce felt his heart beat furiously.

Romanoff was watching his face critically. "It was a sacrifice play, he almost didn't make it back." Bruce swallowed dryly, and waited for his heart rate to decrease.

"…Something about a missile?" He wondered aloud, recalling flames, and a flash of red and gold which must have been the Iron Man suit.

"There was a nuke aimed at the city. Stark decided to fly it into the portal, which I was just about to close." Bruce clenched his fists. Romanoff saw him and lowered her voice. "Bruce...He fell back through just in time."

"Fell?" Bruce didn't like that word.

"Yes."

Bruce's eyebrows scrunched together. Tony had been battered up, he'd said his system was damaged, but to fall from that height… "How is he still alive?"

"You caught him Bruce," Natasha explained. "Set him down on the ground…the Captain thought his heart had stopped. Then the Hulk roared and Stark popped back up again. You saved his life, that shows a great deal of caring and control. Especially when we're talking about someone as annoying as Stark."

Bruce chuckled, though his heart was sinking. "I didn't know," He said softly. "He didn't tell me."


Natasha left shortly, to look for Clint no doubt, but Bruce stayed back staring at the fancy gadgets lined up in front of him. He spent several hours in the medical lab, he poured over several electronic instruction manuals, and thought long and hard about what to do next. After all that thinking he could only come to one conclusion—he needed to talk to Tony, right away.

Jarvis directed him to the penthouse level, which was basically a pile of rubble at this point.

"Cleaning up?" Bruce asked, seeing Tony rummaging behind the bar.

"That's one way to put it." Tony laughed, coming up with a bottle in each hand. He passed one to Bruce. "Shall we toast make a toast? To the Avengers!" Bruce reluctantly clinked his bottle against Tony's. Tony opened the top with some difficulty and took a long swig. Bruce placed his back on the counter. "I would offer you a fancy glass or something, but most of them were crushed into expensive diamond infused dust."

"I don't drink," Bruce informed him.

"What, cause the BFG* will decide to visit? I'm not asking you to get drunk or anything…though at this point it would be an interesting challenge, the goat-alien boy finished most of the hard stuff."

Bruce paused, amused for a moment before his face darkened.

"I don't get drunk," He said firmly. "I won't." Bruce wouldn't tell Tony that his aversion to alcohol had more to do with his father than the Other Guy.

"Okay, okay." Tony raised his hands up in mock surrender. "But take a seat anyway. You can keep an eye on me, I wouldn't pass up a challenge, but I have to be coherent enough to meet up with Pepper later."

"Well, anything for Ms. Pepper Potts," Bruce said good-naturedly. He pushed some rocks out of the way and sat on the couch. Tony sat next to him, clutching his drink.

"Yeah…" Tony gazed out of the window, longingly. "I really would do anything for that woman." Bruce barely knew either of them, but he believed Tony.

The two of them sat in a companionable silence, until Bruce finally remembered why he was up here.

"Tony, we need to talk."

"You're breaking up with me already!" Tony sounded aghast. "Me?" He put a hand on his chest. Bruce rolled his eyes.

"Something like that," He said slowly. Bruce grinned wryly. "It's not you, it's me," He couldn't resist adding.

"Ha, good one," Tony smile slipped off his face. "Wait, seriously?"

Bruce nodded. "I appreciate you giving me a place to sleep, and putting some clothes on my back, but it's time I get going."

Tony shook his head. "Why?"

"You know why Tony."

"No, I don't." Tony frowned deeply. "I like you Banner. A lot."

"I can't imagine why," Bruce muttered to himself.

"There's plenty of room in this place, I've got tons of money to spare, and we could have so much fun together in the labs. Give me one good reason why you shouldn't stay."

Bruce coughed.

"Okay. He's big, he's green, and he's grouchy."

"Oscar?" Bruce frowned. Tony shrugged. "What you don't like Sesame Street?" Bruce gave him a look. Tony sighed. "That's not good enough Banner, I like him just as much as I like you."

It was Bruce's turn to sigh. "You said that in the beginning, but now that you've actually seen him, you have to understand why I need to keep moving."

"So I'll build you a gym," Tony said flippantly. Bruce raised an eyebrow. "No, you're right, that's lame…how about a danger room?"

"A what?" Bruce asked curiously. Tony opened his mouth to explain, but Bruce shook his head. "Never mind, that's not important. What is important is that I get out of here before I cause any trouble." Tony put down his drink and tapped distractedly at his arc reactor. Then he raised a finger in the air.

"Firstly, trouble is my middle name." He raised another finger. "Secondly…you know, when I met you I was just a fan. I was a fan of your clever science brain, and your beautiful green rage monster. Then he saved my ass—I don't know if anyone's told you."

"Natasha might have mentioned it." Bruce replied quietly. "But that…that was only because I elected to change into him. If he comes out without warning…"

"Oh, he will." Tony nodded. "I mean, we can work on it, but nobody can control their emotions all the time. I'm just saying, you need to let loose a little. And mad scientist experiments would be just the thing. I've got lots of shiny equipment, but a sad lack of intelligence—well besides my own brilliance, that's needed to run it all. What do you say Bruce?"

"It's not a good idea for me to stay here Tony. I'm better off on my own." Bruce spoke quickly before Tony's words could sink in.

"Ah, no, I'm positive you're wrong about that." Tony picked up his drink again and took another sip.

"And how would you know?" Something about Tony's presence calmed Bruce…normally. Now all the bristling emotions were hitting him as hard as ever. "Sorry," He added automatically, not entirely truthfully.

"Whatever." Tony shrugged. "I'm used to it." Bruce scowled. "But I have been there before. I don't get close to people. Frankly, I didn't think I needed to. The workaholic, softy Tony with daddy issues isn't nearly as interesting as the billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, superhero me, but he still exists in here somewhere."

"Sorry." Bruce repeated, this time in earnest. He could hear the pain hiding behind Tony's nonchalant words.

"No big deal." Tony grinned slightly. "I've had some experience with criticism."

"Really?" Bruce's sarcasm was evident.

"When someone criticizes me I know I'm hitting them hard enough," Tony added.

Bruce scratched his chin thoughtfully. He had a point.

"Of course, some people just don't like me very much. Some people hate me. Anyway, I don't need a pity party—because well, I'm Iron Man, I'm Tony Stark, I'm practically made of awesome!" That sounded more like the Tony most people expected, but Bruce wasn't sure that meant the other, more vulnerable Tony was any less real.

"You're not that bad." He said lightly. "You come off as a bit of a jackass sometimes, but you're definitely clever, funny…and I know you can be kind." Tony's eyes lit up.

"So you like me too then?" He asked excitedly. Bruce blinked.

"Um, yeah, I guess I do."

"So, we're friends," Tony continued. Bruce nodded slowly, wondering where he was going with this. "We're friends so it's not weird for me to invite you to stay. Friends stay at each other's houses all the time. Or so I've heard," Tony waved a hand. Bruce sighed, for such a socialite, Tony sounded nearly as friendless as Bruce usually felt.

Bruce took of his glasses and wiped them on the bottom of his shirt to give himself some more time to think.
"You've given me a lot of clothes," He said suddenly.

"I guess, just don't try to pay me back or anything," Tony warned him.

"I wouldn't," Bruce assured him. Even if he felt inclined to do so, even if he had any money, he would never have that much. "I figure billionaires can handle this sort of thing."

"We can and we do," Tony nodded. "Besides, I wasn't going to let you walk around butt-naked." He smirked. "Unless you prefer to—it would be interesting to see how Pepper would react."

Bruce eyed the bar, almost wishing he'd accepted a drink.

"Yes well… we'll never know I guess, as I prefer to be clothed. So I'm grateful to your philanthropist self." Tony frowned, and putting out a hand.

"Wait a second. That had nothing to do with my philanthropist self," He interjected. "That was my friend-to-Bruce Banner self. Didn't you read the note? You really needed a wardrobe update. Maybe we'll go shopping later." Tony walked over to the bar and plopped his half-empty bottle into a garbage can.

Bruce thought back to his old cloths and chuckled a bit. He was aware he wasn't the most fashion forward guy, but that hadn't seemed important when he was on the run, or caring for people in India. Then he caught on to the last word.

"Tony," He called to him. "I'm not staying." Tony walked back over and patted him on the shoulder.

"Sure thing buddy, you keep telling yourself that. We both know the truth."


Yeah, so there we go, chapter two. If any of the characters seem off, please let me know. I've got an outline worked out, so I kind of know what's going to happen now. You, on the other hand, will have to continue reading to find out. Hint, we've got some other characters joining us, and more arguments and such. (Note: I've done some edits, if anything looks better or worse it'd be great to let me know).

Please review.

Thanks,

AoiKuroNekoSan.

* Big Friendly Giant, from a Roald Dahl book.