They didn't see each other for two weeks, not for Nora's lack of trying though.

After a fairly amazing orgasm, she had taken a shower, made herself some tea, and sat and thought about it all.

It had to be some sort of chemical reaction. They had the same serum in them, and it would only make sense that they would react to each other when it flared. She was a little confused about their almost sex, but figured it was more about domination than it was about fucking. Sort of like wolves.

Nora smiled. It was actually pretty cool when she thought about it.

There was a spot of irritation at being the submissive one, but he was older, and knew more about their way of life then she did, so it did make sense. And, she thought with a smile, it had felt amazing. Like something that had been missing clicked into place.

He had seemed panicked though, she remembered, the smile slipping from her face as she remembered his abrupt departure.

'Well,' she thought, 'I wouldn't be too eager to assault someone I barely know either."

She resolved to tell him when he came next into the restaurant that she understood, and as long as all other instances were consensual she didn't have a problem with them. In fact, she thought as she smiled wickedly, she would encourage them.

Bruce, however, didn't appear at the restaurant. She waited ten days, head jerking every time the bell attached to the door signaled, and then called the electrician's that she knew Bruce worked at.

It wasn't until someone who was definitely not Bruce showed up to fix the lights that she remembered she had not requested him.

She resolved to wait three more days, and then if he still avoided her she would show up where he lived. Only, she didn't know where he lived, so, after two weeks of not seeing him, Nora showed up at Bruce's work.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Bruce had been having his lunch in the break room in relative peace, with Donny and Dwayne (his co-workers) making minimum noise for once while he read the paper.

The peace and quiet was ruined, however, by his boss's voice.

"Bobby!" Heartman yelled, "Up front! Now!"

Bruce sighed, but did as he was told, Dwayne and Donny trailing not so innocently behind him.

He wondered what he was needed for; typically when he was called up it was for Heartman to yell at him for something or other, which was probably why his co-workers trailed behind him. They always liked to see- "Sarah."

For it was Sarah, he could not say that the blonde hair, blue eyed girl was his Nora, his radioactive girl. Not that she was his though.

He cleared his throat.

"What are you doing here?"

She cocked an eyebrow and placed her hands on her hips.

"Oh, you know why I'm here. You should be ashamed of yourself."

Bruce's coworkers watched the interaction with interest, small town gossip being a currency almost as much as money.

Bruce, of course, was ashamed, but he preferred not to air his dirty laundry in front of his coworkers. Plus, he didn't really know her. He didn't know her temper, didn't know how well she could keep a secret.

"We'll talk later," he told her, not unkindly.

"No," she fumed, "We'll talk now."

Unseen, under her contacts, her eyes flashed green and Bruce tensed, the other guy growling in the back of his mind, telling him to grab, to bite, to dominate.

He grit his teeth, glaring at her, and Nora cowed.

"Tonight then," she demanded, voice softer but no less determined.

Bruce nodded, wanting her to leave as soon as possible, if only because there was nothing more he wanted than to be near her.

"My place, seven o'clock, be there," she demanded, and whirled out of the door, leaving before he could confirm the time.

Bruce sighed, warding off the questions of his coworkers as he contemplated meeting her.

After briefly considering fleeing the country, Bruce showed up at Nora's at 7:45, scared, curious, and a little horny.

Nora answered the door before he could ring the bell, looking at Bruce with colorless eyes under the hood of the hoodie he had left there.

She ushered him inside quickly, and once the door was locked she dropped the hood, Bruce being met again with the woman he had first seen two weeks ago.

She was stunning, and the guilt ripped him apart.

"I'm so sorry," Bruce burst out, "I've tried so hard not to hurt people and I never meant to hurt you. What I did was inexcusable and dangerous and I would understand if you don't want to see me again. Just give me a few days to pack my things and quit my job and I'll be out of your hair., I promise I-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," said Nora, putting up her hands as though trying to placate a wild beast, "Who said anything about you leaving? Bruce, I wanted to talk to you to tell you that I understand. We have weird chemicals in our bodies, and they reacted weirdly. It's not a huge surprise, Bruce, just common sense. I was more mad at you for disappearing afterward! Now, can we sit down and talk about this like adults?"

Bruce stood stock still.

He had imagined many different things; her yelling, attacking him, standing in silence, or calling the police. His wildest dreams had not had her not even feeling his actions needed forgiveness.

He sat down dumbly.

"Good," Nora told him, as though praising a dog, "Now, do you want some tea?"

"Yes, please," he told her, bewildered, and she whisked away into the kitchen.

While he listened to her rattle about he thought of what she just said.

A chemical reaction. It was the most logical solution, and the one Bruce feared the most. For one, it meant that Bruce was a slave to what was inside him, cursed even when not in his larger form. What he feared most though is that Nora had gamma in her.

No matter how much he sometimes hated the people of the world, he would not wish his affliction on his worst enemy. Yet, she had turned invisible. The situation was getting curiouser and curiouser.

Suddenly a feeling of panic broke through his thoughts and he rushed into the kitchen, where Nora was standing, sucking on her finger.

"Don't worry, it's okay," she said quickly, seeing the panic in his eyes, "I just burned myself a little, that's all."

Bruce's feeling of panic subsided somewhat, but he still had the urge to check her over.

After about thirty seconds of awkward silence, Nora seemed to guess what he was he wanted, and held out her injured hand to him.

In a parallel to the last time he was there, he crossed the room and invaded her space. This time, however, he took her hand instead of her submission.

Her finger was still glossy with spit, and Bruce swallowed hard, trying not to think of when her neck was glossy with his.

Turning his attention back to her hand, he noticed that the tip of her finger was red and swollen, but otherwise okay.

Bruce could feel the panic slip out of him as he looked over her, and gave a weak smile.

"You'll be fine," he told her.

Nora laughed, seemingly unperturbed by his awkwardness.

"I told you so," she teased, "Sit, I'll fix your tea."

Bruce took a seat at the kitchen table and watched her pour the water into a pair of mugs shaped like animals.

"What kind?" she asked him, "I have peach, or jasmine, or... looks like that's it actually."

Bruce, who had never really liked peaches, went with jasmine.

After putting the bags in (she had chosen peach herself) she gracefully sat in a chair to his left and looked at him expectantly.

"So, how are we gonna do this?" she asked.

Bruce pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Well, we obviously have some sort of chemical inside the both of us that wants to combine, but in order to determine what it is I'll need to know what was in the serum you took."

Nora blushed.

"Well, you see, the thing about that is... I don't really know, I sort of took it by accident."

Bruce blinked.

"Accident? Lenore, how could you have taken it by accident?"

Nora shifted in her seat.

"Well, I was trying to get away from the police, and I couldn't think of anything else and-"

"Wait, back up, the police?"

She bit her lip.

"It's a long story."

"Tell me yours and I'll tell you mine," he said, a lot more casually than he felt.

Collapsing back into the chair, Nora sighed loudly and clutched her tea tightly.

"Hmmm, well I guess I'll start at the beginning. I grew up in New York, which is kind of important I guess, given the mafia."

"The mafia!" Bruce interjected.

"Yes," she said, pushing her white hair out of her face as she sunk deeper in the chair, "Now hush.

"My father was a doctor in a clinic and my mother was a midwife, mostly for people who couldn't afford to go to the hospital, so they both worked long hours and didn't really make much. I was fine most of the time; there was a girl who lived next door who was my age, whose mother was fond of spoiling me and when I was ten my mother started bringing me on jobs, but my brother, Frankie, well... he had a hard time of it.

"He was twelve years older than me, well, I guess he still is, and so I wasn't the best company. He started running with the mobsters. We're only second generation American, so we still fit in with the Italians pretty well. I wasn't really involved in it, there was never any reason for me to be. But then I turned seventeen."

"What's so important about seventeen?" Bruce asked when she finished.

"Seventeen is the age of consent in New York, and it was also the age my brother decided to take me round and meet his friends."

"Oh my god," Bruce breathed, horrified by the implications.

"No, no," Nora protested quickly, "He didn't pimp me out or anything, he just thought that if he flaunted his pretty little sister around he might get some attention from the higher-ups, you know help him rise in the ranks, and it worked."

At this point Nora's eyes glazed over and she seemed to look through Bruce instead of at him.

"His name was Vincent Pacetti. He was one of the higherups, mean as a bulldog and richer than sin. I was absolutely smitten, and he seemed to be rather taken with me, which thrilled my brother to no end. Frankie rose quickly in the ranks, and me, well, I was living a fairytale.

"Vincent was constantly busy, and made up for it in extravagant gifts. He took me to parties and bought me diamonds, and was pretty good looking to boot. My parents hated him, as he was over twenty years older than me, and the sex wasn't that good, but what did I care for parents or sex when the whole of New York was my playground? Everything was perfect, but I was unable to stay blind for too long.

"A little after a year in the glitz and the glamour had worn off. I had cut off my parents and friends, my brother was in a fight with a rival gang that had almost killed him, and I didn't have anyone to turn to with my doubts. I stayed quiet, tried to drown myself in rubies and champagne, but things began to pile up.

"Dead bodies were found, policemen started showing up, and one night I slipped in a puddle of blood on the kitchen floor. There was a trashbag filled with a dismembered woman in the fridge. I tried to leave, but Vincent caught me and he beat the shit out of me. Then- Bruce!" she exclaimed, stopping her story.

Bruce had stood up almost violently when he heard of her abuse, and his chair had been knocked out from under him.

For a few dangerous moments, neither of them moved; Nora frozen in shock as Bruce leaned on the table, hands splayed wide as he breathed raggedly like a wild animal.

The other guy raged in the back of his mind, trying to move to the forefront.

How dare that man hurt her! How dare that bastard touch what was his!

The beast inside him raged and screamed, wanting to rip, tear, smash.

Bruce fought the monster desperately, trying to keep it down.

Nora moved.

"No," Bruce rasped as she neared him slowly, "Lenore..."

But she didn't heed his warning. She slipped under his arm, trapping herself between Bruce and the table, forcing him to meet her eyes.

"Look at me," she told him, "Look at me, Bruce. I'm fine, see? It was a long time ago, so there's nothing you can do about it now."

Surprisingly, it was not Bruce, but the other guy who listened to her words, and he reluctantly climbed into the back of the doctor's mind once more.

Bruce was ragged, becoming utterly exhausted the instant the beast retracted. It took all his strength not to collapse on Nora, and she seemed to notice.

"Come on," she told him, and took his hand, leading him through the house into the bedroom.

"No," Bruce protested weakly as she tried to push him down on the bed, "No, this is a bad idea. I won't put you in a position where-"

"Oh hush," she told him, "You're tired and I promise I'll keep my clothes on."

Bruce winced, thinking back to when he had torn them off of her.

"Again, I'm so-"

"Don't say sorry, Bruce," Nora said, exasperated, "Just lay down."

Bruce sighed and, under Nora's school-teacher glare, took off his shoes, belt, and glasses, and crawled into her bed.

"Do you... do you want me to join you?" she asked, and for the first time that night she sounded uncertain.

Of course he wanted her to, wanted her in his arms, content and safe from the terrors of the world, of the people who could harm her. It hurt him to his very core to think that he was one of those people.

He knew he should tell her no, but he was just so tired, and he couldn't bring himself to ask her to leave.

"Only if you want to," he answered.

Her uncertainty vanished and she crawled in next to him, tangling her legs in his and laying her head on his chest.

He felt a swell of peace in him as he looked at her white hair splayed across his shirt, and he felt he could continue.

"What happened after that?" he asked, voice rumbling through his chest into her ear.

She lifted her head to look at him.

"Bruce... are you sure?"

Bruce nodded.

"I want to know."

Nora sighed, but laid her head down and continued to speak.

"It took weeks for me to recover, and even though he said he was sorry I was terrified. I told him I wouldn't run again, but all I could think of was how to get away. I told my brother about it because I didn't know who else to turn to. He told me he'd smuggle me out on a greyhound bus, but he got arrested a few days before I was supposed to go and I was too scared to go without him.

"I stayed for another six months, and then my salvation had come. Vincent started talking about a serum; he said that his boss had asked him to hold onto it for him, said it would make them both billionaires. I started to formulate a plan. If I stole the serum I would have a bargaining chip for when I ran away again. If Vincent didn't catch me I would just throw it away, but if I was caught it could be the difference between life and death.

"At twelve o'clock that night the serum arrived at Vincent's house, at one o'clock that morning I left with it.

"I should have run like the wind, gotten the fuck out of the city and never looked back, but I went to my brother's apartment to get my things, and the next thing I knew the police were knocking on the door. I had rehearsed what to say to the mafia time and time again, but the police? I had no idea. All I knew was that I was carrying stolen property, and that if I went to jail Vincent would just get one of the other women to kill me. If I got rid of the evidence maybe I would have a chance. I didn't know what to do, so I injected it.

"I passed out, but when I woke up the apartment was ransacked, the police were gone, and I was green. I raced to the mirror but I couldn't see anything. I was invisible! The realization was wonderful. Finally I was free of Vincent! I caught a bus to Pennsylvania, and planned to keep going, but bad things started to happen. I started to vomit, bleed, and flicker in and out. One moment I would be invisible, the next anyone could see me. I was nineteen and terrified.

"When I leveled out a bit I purchased a motel room with what little money I had and learned how to control myself there. It took months for me to figure out how to work it, and by that time my only meals where what the soup kitchen provided, and I was terrified Vincent would find me. My hair started to change and my eyes started to pale. I needed food, a disguise, and to get away from New York. I did the only thing I could do."

Bruce closed his eyes at the implication and muttered, "Horrible."

Nora's temper flared, and she raised herself to address him.

"Don't you dare do that, Bruce, I had no choice! And if you think I wanted to suck dicks in a dark alleyway then you've got another thing coming, you-"

"Lenore!" he exclaimed, "Calm down! I'm not implying- I mean, I don't think any less of you for- I'm just mad that you had to."

"Oh," she said, deflating slightly, "Okay."

She draped herself back over him, and his thumb skimmed over her arm.

Taking a few deep breaths, she continued with her story: "I bought a few wigs first, then colored contacts, finally food. The only thing left was for me to leave. I left and took refuge in West Virginia, staying there working at a gas station and, well, the alley behind it, until I had enough money to buy this house. Then I came here, and I've been here ever since."

Bruce was quiet for a few moments, but he couldn't help but ask, "How old are you?"

"Twenty one," she answered, feeling Bruce stiffen under her, "Why? How old are you?"

"Thirty six," he answered, flushing. Shifting uncomfortably, he started to rise.

Nora pushed him back down with a scoff.

"Don't be ridiculous," she scolded, "We're not doing anything wrong here, and if we were," she said with a scandalous grin, "You would definitely not be the oldest man I've ever had."

Balking, Bruce told her: "I did not need to hear that," but he settled down anyway.

Neither of them said anything for a long while after that.

After a while, Nora began to hum a tune and and Bruce began to run his fingers through her hair.

Suddenly, he was struck with a reminder of Betty, and the way things used to be. She never hummed, and her hair was often too tangled to run his fingers through it, but they did used to lie like this, quiet, away from the rest of the world.

God, he missed her.

"What are you thinking about?" Nora asked when she felt his fingers still.

Wisely deciding not to mention the fact he was thinking about another woman, he lied.

"Thinking about how pure you are."

She snorted.

"Bruce, were you listening to nothing I said? I was a prostitute, I was in the mafia! I'm working toward good now, but I'm far from pure."

"But everything you did was for self-preservation," he argued, "Everything I did was for greed, pride, glory, selfishness... I wouldn't be here if I wasn't so goddamn selfish. I should have cleared out of town the second I knew that I was-" his jaw snapped shut.

"Knew you were what?"

Bruce cleared his throat and blushed.

"Drawn to you."

The air seemed to lay heavy between the two, and Bruce nearly held his breath as he imagined the look on her face, glad that he could only see the back of her head.

Lenore's laughter seemed to break through the room like a ray of sun through the clouds.

"That's so cheesy! …I know what you mean though, I feel, better, around you. I've felt... uneasy, since I've taken the serum, but with you I feel almost normal again. Safer, more secure."

Bruce hummed in agreement. Now that he thought about it, he had felt calmer since he met her. The layers of anger that he kept carefully stacked seemed to fade into the background when he was around Lenore, there, but not overwhelming, not in constant need of control.

They stayed quiet for a little while longer, and just as Bruce felt himself beginning to doze off Nora asked him the question he had been fearing for days.

"Bruce, you said the serum made you dangerous. What did you mean by that?"

Immediately every muscle in his body tensed, and he was instantly wide awake.

"Lenore," he started slowly, wishing he had pretended to be asleep, "I don't want- I just don't- it's not relevant."

"Bullshit!" Nora exclaimed, flying off of him to sit on her knees, tangled up in blankets, "Of course it's relevant! I turn invisible and you do god knows what and we're both running from the police and I have no idea if you're a serial killer or a terrorist and I've been alone for so goddamn long that I am stupid enough to trust you and I really want you to be somebody worthy of trust and so everything has to be relevant because I don't know what is!"

Bruce stared at her blankly, shocked at her rush of words, and did not move until Nora tried to get off the bed and fell on to the floor because of her entanglement in the blankets. She staunchly refused his help, however, batting his arms away.

"Don't you dare touch me, Bruce Banner, if that is even your real name."

"Of course it's-" he started, but was interrupted mid-sentence by Nora's ramblings.

"Well, how am I supposed to know! I hardly know anything about you but I went and spilled my whole life story to you and don't touch me you piece of-"

"Lenore!" he barked, grabbing a hold of her wrists.

Immediately she stilled, eyes cast down and neck exposed.

Something in Bruce purred in satisfaction at the display, but the rest of him shirked away from the feeling. He let go of her wrists as though he had been burned, and her eyes flickered to his, tinged with green.

"I..." he stuttered, looking away, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I just... Can we talk about this tomorrow?"

Lenore's exasperated look softened as she looked upon his burning red face, and she nodded.

"That's fine, so long as I get the hear it. You can't ask me to give up everything and not give in return."

Bruce sighed, he knew that what she was asking him was hardly unreasonable, but he hadn't even told Betty everything! He was closed-lipped by nature, and didn't even particularly like when people asked him simple things like his favorite movie or ice cream flavor.

Nora cleared her throat impatiently.

"Yes, that's fair," he told her, slumping against the side of the bed in defeat.

"Pinky promise?" she asked, a soft smile curving her lips and a pale hand offering the said finger.

Despite himself, and despite the horribly awkward situation he was in, Bruce laughed and extended his own pinky, shaking hers.

They smiled at each other for a moment, but she just couldn't keep quiet.

"But I just don't understand how-"

"Lenore!" Bruce groaned, playfully putting a hand over her mouth.

She licked it, her tongue warm and wet, and he let her go in mock disgust.

They laughed for a little while, the sound foreign in the pair's unhappy lives, but it was short lived, and they soon fell silent once more.

"Can I ask you a favor?" Nora asked, laying her head against his shoulder.

Bruce shrugged, jostling Nora.

"I suppose."

"I'll return it," she reassured, "It takes two and all that. Anyway, what I'm asking is for you not to lie to me. I've got a lot of things on my plate, and I don't want questioning your honesty to be one of them. And it's not just for tomorrow either, it's for as long as we know each other. If you don't want to answer something plead the fifth, I know it would be highly unreasonable for you to tell me everything about you, and there's shit I'll never tell you. Unless, of course, the situation is life threatening, or it's something essential to know. Is that good with you?"

Instantly a heavy weight lifted off of his chest, and he let out a breath that he didn't know he had even been holding. He had been worried that the ultimatum for her company would be nothing save his life's story, and he wouldn't be ready to do that anytime soon. Telling her he occasionally turned into the other guy would be hard, extremely so, but he wouldn't have to tell her the circumstances surrounding it.

Wouldn't have to tell her about the nights in alleyways with his fingers against his pulse, the hot flashes of rage that made him feel just like his father, Betty, beautiful Betty lying cold against the hospital sheets, the fear in his heart as he jumped out of the helicopter, prepared to meet the Abomination. It would be easier to tell her he turned into a monster on the outside than telling her he constantly felt like one on the inside.

"Yes," he replied, "Yes, I think I can do that."

"Good," she said, worry lines smoothing as her body relaxed, "Come on, let's go to bed."

"Alright," Bruce answered, standing, "I can take the couch."

Lenore snorted, "No fucking way, mister. You look like you haven't gotten sleep in days. Either I sleep on the couch or you sleep in here with me; both ways you're taking the bed."

"I can sleep on the couch," he protested, "I promise it will be much more comfortable than some of the places I've laid my head."

"Bruce," she chastised, folding her arms, "You are sleeping in my bed if I had to fight you into it, so all you have to do is decide if you want me in it too."

Bruce took a deep breath, about to counter and argue her proposal, when suddenly an alternative popped into his head. He could tell her to sleep in the bed with him, and once she was safely dreaming he would sneak into the living room and sleep on the couch. It was the perfect plan.

He sighed in pretend defeat.

"Alright, we'll both sleep in here, there's no reason why you shouldn't sleep in your own bed."

Nora beamed.

"Good; there's a spare toothbrush in the bathroom, and you're welcome to use my shower if you like, though I'm not sure I have any clothes that would fit you."

"Don't worry," he reassured, "I always have a few sets in my truck. You should start doing the same with yours if you're not already, coming back home to get your things isn't always an option."

Nora laughed.

"You should write a book, 'Being On the Run for Dummies'"

"Sorry," Bruce said quickly, flushing, "I didn't mean to sound condescending, I was just trying to -"

"It's fine, Bruce," she interrupted, "Everything I know about avoiding cops is from the movies, so you're actually going to be helpful."

Bruce smiled.

"That's good to know."

They grinned at each other for a few moments and then set about getting off the floor and untangling themselves from the blankets; Bruce heading for his car and Nora heading for her closet.

It turned out Lenore's extra toothbrush was unnecessary, as Bruce kept enough necessities in his truck to last him for a few months.

After they both changed while desperately trying not to think of the other naked in the next room, they met in the bathroom to brush their teeth.

Though it was a painfully mundane task they both felt a strong sense of bizarreness as they stared at each other in the mirror, mouths filled with toothpaste. Betty had been the last person Bruce had done anything like this with, and the last time Lenore had brushed her teeth with anyone was with her brother, as Vincent had never done anything with her that wasn't fucking her or showing her off.

After they rinsed out their mouths an awkward silence landed on the bathroom; Bruce had no idea what to do. Should he ask her what side of the bed she slept on? Would they share the same blanket? Would she wake up when he tried to move to the couch? Why was she looking at him like that?

Lenore's face was screwed up like she was concentrating hard on something.

"Um, Nora?" he questioned, about to ask if she was alright. However, before he could say anything she blurted out: "Can I touch you?"

Bruce blinked stupidly.

"Pardon?"

"When we're in bed," she clarified, a blush creeping up into her cheeks.

"I just thought it would be awkward if we pretended the other wasn't there. Besides, I feel better when I'm near you, calmer, like I haven't since the serum."

Bruce's stomach dropped when she mentioned the serum, and he had to remind himself the chemistry between them was just that, chemicals. He knew he should say no, but it had been so long since he had held a woman, and he couldn't stop thinking about the rare feeling of contentment he experienced when she had let him comb his fingers through her hair just an hour before.

"Yeah," he heard himself say, "Yeah, I'd like that."

He knew he would regret it later, but it was hard to regret anything with her supernova smile aimed at him.

"Good," she said, taking his hand and leading him to the bedroom, "Which side do you sleep on?"

"The one closest to the door," he replied, worried that she would laugh at him for his paranoia.

She only nodded, however, and led him toward the bed, crawling over his side to her's and then sliding under the blankets. There was something peaceful about the way he climbed in after her, and as he took her into his arms and inhaled the scent of strawberry shampoo, he decided that he might not leave for the couch after all.