Poking Trolls with Sticks is a Terrible, Terrible Idea
Rating: T
Pairing: Bruce Banner/ Pansy Parkinson
Summary: Sometimes, Bruce and the Hulk work well as a team.
Usually, Bruce refused all invitations to speak at conferences, symposiums, lectures… it's not that he was shy or didn't like giving them. He loved it. But the Other Guy and crowds of people stuffed in small rooms did not mix well.
But Tony, the nosy bastard that he was, had gone through his mail and told him he was being stupid because he had much better control over the giant beanstalk lately than he had any right to living with crazy people who were loud and pushed you around for no other reason than to get to the coffee pot first before it was empty. True, he had never Hulked out since he had moved into the Avengers tower, not accidentally at least, because there was always a good reason to invite the Other Guy out to smash a giant squid or a flock of doombots.
So Bruce had accepted the invitation to London to give a lecture on how gamma-radiated Higgs-Boson particles modified any given quantum field. A stutter escaped him at first because it turned out that after so much time keeping to himself and living like a hermit, crowds were making him anxious, and anxiety was the first tumble down the green hill of rage. So he had followed Tony's advice - well, almost - by imagining he was talking to an empty room - instead of a bunch of naked strangers as he had recommended.
Of course, it was an illusion he couldn't keep up when he wrapped up his speech and came to the obligatory Q&A part of his presentation, because pretending he was talking to chairs was just too weird, even for him. However, he had relaxed enough then that all was going smoothly. Even the dumbest questions didn't ruffle him. When the audience began to leave, Bruce waited for a bit so he didn't get stuck in the bottleneck at the doors. He never knew how the Other Guy was going to react to the unexpected jab of a sharp elbow or pointy heel. He was so relieved when he made it out of the auditorium and into the hall with no incident to speak of that he didn't notice when a woman came barreling in his direction until it was too late.
She knocked the wind out of him but he was careful to keep his breathing under control. Everything was fine. No one was after him. No one was going to hurt him. It was just an accident.
"I'm so sorry," the woman said, but her voice was wobbly and he feared he had been the one to hurt her.
"No, no, it's fine. Are you alright?"
He had the breath knocked out of him again when she looked up at him because she was… well… gorgeous despite looking like a female Tony with her sleek black hair and black eyes that glittered like the moonless night sky, and damnit, now he was waxing poetic and staring like an idiot with his mouth open. Say something!
"Are you sure? You don't sound-"
"Pansy!" a man snapped as he took long strides towards them.
The woman cowered, shoulders hunched, head bowed like she was carrying the Atlas on her back. The sight made Bruce growl. Not the Hulk. Him. Bruce didn't recall ever doing that without turning green, but he knew what was going on here and he couldn't tolerate it. He stepped in front of the woman.
"Get out of my way, you filthy muggle," the man snarled, spittle flying around.
Bruce scowled and wiped his face with the back of his sleeve. Okay, his clothes were a bit rumpled and he really should have shaved that morning, but he'd been running late. Still, rude. And what was a Muggle? British slang? Rude too, no doubt.
"I am not getting out of the way," he said, struggling to keep his temper. "You need to calm down unless you want me to call security to throw you out."
The man ignored him completely.
"Pansy. Come here. Don't tell me you're such a useless bitch you're going to hide behind some muggle scum. That's low, even for you."
He laughed and yep, that was definitely an insult. Bruce glanced around, but the hall had emptied quickly given the late hour.
"Go away, Theo. I told you we were over. Just let me be. Stop following me, or… or…"
"Or what? No one's going to want to help you, Pansy. Everyone knows you tried to sell Potter out to save your own hide. Come. Here."
The woman didn't reply, but she shuffled behind him and Bruce feared she was going to give in and obey like she had probably done a hundred times before. He couldn't abide domestic abuse. Bruce could understand she felt trapped and isolated while this man was threatening and no doubt beating her into compliance, but he couldn't just leave and pretend he didn't know. He couldn't live with himself if he did, and judging by how the Other Guy was beginning to stir, he couldn't either.
He slowly spread his left arm back to stop her from moving past him and return to this pathetic excuse of a human being.
"Go away," he growled at the man. "The lady told you she wanted to be left alone."
The man's face twisted in disgust and he took a smooth stick out of the inside pocket of his long vest to point it at him. Bruce stared at it, going a bit cross eyed from its proximity. Fighting with sticks? Was this another British thing? Should he go find a stick too? Would they fuel to the death by stick? It might take a while…
A bluish light shot out, hitting him square in the chest. It hurt, briefly, but enough that he was impressed, and The Hulk was pissed.
"You asked for it," he said, his voice turning deep and gravelly as he grew large and green.
"Puny man," Hulk said and grabbed his attacker in one fist, squeezing and squeezing, watching him squirm like a big fat worm with a wicked grin while his foot crushed into fine dust the stick he had used to hurt him.
A whimper behind him reminded him the pretty lady was still there and had been close to Banner when he let him out. He threw the vile man over his shoulder, ignoring the crash and subsequent groan. He slowly shuffled around, careful his feet didn't smash her by accident. The pretty lady had huge eyes like the galaxy as she craned her neck up to see him.
"I- ah, thank you. That was, erm, very brave of you."
She was the brave one. Hulk could count on the fingers of one hand the number of people who did not go running and screaming the first time they met him. She was holding out her hand to do the shaky-hand thing. The logistics were complicated with such a tiny hand so he held his index out and she let out a high-pitched giggle before grasping it in both hands and shaking it.
"Thank you," she said again, more softly before she took a shuddering breath and began crying.
Uh-oh. No, no. No crying. Hulk did not like crying. Banner! He needed Banner. He was good with crying. Did enough of it himself, the wimp.
Bruce was shrinking. One of his hands was trapped but his other quickly caught his ripped pants before he could traumatize the poor woman anymore. She was crying… of course she was. She had left her alone with the Other Guy. He was such an idiot.
"Hey, hey. Don't cry. I'm sorry. Did he hurt you?" he asked, trying to sound confident and reassuring when he mostly felt awkward and a bit cold.
She sniffled and wiped her eyes, dragging streaks of mascara down her cheeks. He tried not to smile but it was cute in a terrible way.
"No. You got rid of him when you turned into a troll. You don't remember?"
Bruce shook his head. A troll? The British were very strange people. But at least the Other Guy hadn't hurt her. Quite the opposite by the sound of it, playing the knight in shining armour. He was almost proud of the guy. She didn't seem scared of him though. Maybe she was one of those strange Hulk fans.
"I don't remember most of the time. Sorry about that. Can I walk you back home? Or get you a taxi? I would feel better knowing you get home safely."
"What about… him?" she asked, glancing towards the man still groaning in a corner.
Bruce must not have hulked out for too long if he was still conscious. He wondered why.
"He can stay there for all I care. He should count himself lucky he's still breathing. Not everyone walks away from the Hulk after picking a fight with him."
"The Hulk? That's the green troll?"
"Troll?"
"You're not some kind of were-troll?"
Bruce shook his head. He had no idea what she was talking about.
"I'm… the green guy is The Hulk."
She was the one to shake her head this time. Not a Hulk fan then. He was relieved, to tell the truth. Those people asked the most embarrassing questions about his anatomy.
"Well, you're not a Muggle in any case, so let me help you with your clothes." She tittered. "Or lack thereof."
She drew a stick from her sleeve too. What was up with these Brits and their sticks? Before he could react, his clothes, most of which were only shreds lying around the polished floor, began swirling in the air, stitching themselves back together around him until they were like new. Upon closer inspection, they were actually in better shape than they had been before the Hulk outgrew them.
"On a scientific level, what you did is so very wrong I almost feel offended."
She smiled shily at him.
"Care to show me more?" he asked, fascinated with her on more than one level.
"I know a good place just around the corner. The food is good and I can show you more magic there. If you're very unlucky, we might even see a full troll."
He knew she was teasing him the way her eyes glimmered, but he would be stupid to refuse such an invitation even if there were real trolls there. He offered his arm like the gentleman he wasn't and she slipped her hand on it without hesitation despite knowing what he was. Bruce was going to kiss Tony for convincing him to come here.
