Author's Note: I don't own any of the Marvel Characters, which includes the Avengers and the X-Men.
xxxx
The following morning, he called Janet. "Hi, Janet, this is Bruce."
"Bruce who?" asked Janet.
"Who many Bruces to you know?" Bruce asked.
"Bruce Willis, Bruce Jenner (Keeping up with the Kardashians is one of my guilty pleasures)... "
Bruce interrupted, "Never watched that show."
"Hank doesn't watch much TV either. He's always in his lab in mad scientist mode."
"I'm teaching future mad scientists at a school for gifted children," said Bruce. "Us mad scientists have to pay it forward."
"How many mad scientists do I know named Bruce?" Janet said.
"Not too many I hope," Bruce teased.
"Bruce Banner," said Janet, "But he has a deeper voice."
"I'm back to my normal size without any Pym particles, and my one-eyed wonder snake is proportional, not that that is any of your business."
"Bruce?" said Janet.
"That's my name. I need you to remove the Pym particles from my clothing. I can go to Stark Tower to get the clothes I wore before going to Asgard, but you and the fashion police will arrest me for wearing clothes 3 1/2 years out of date."
"I'll be over in 3 days. Hank has meeting in town. I can sneak over to West Chester. I can also collect your clothes from Stark Tower and none of your clothes can be a bad as Tony's rock band tee shirts."
"True enough." Bruce laughed. "All my dorky tee shirts are second hand. And guess who had them first?"
Janet said, "Tony has great taste in suits and causal wear, but he really needs to part with his tee shirt collection."
"He has parted with it. He gave all but the rock band tee shirts to me." Bruce made his good-byes and got off the phone. He couldn't be late to class since he was the teacher.
xxxx
Twelve days after leaving on Cyclops' bike, Logan came back to the school and threw the keys to Cyclops.
"I'm James Logan," he told all the adults gathered in Xavier's office. "I served in the Canadian military during World War I."
Logan showed them the photocopies of the photographs they had in the military archives. Bruce looked at the photos from World War I and World War II. Logan had served in the First Canadian Parachute Battalion. He looked like a teenager in the photo dated 1917, but, in the photos from the 1940's, he looked the same as he did now.
"Shit," said Bruce, handing the photocopies to Professor Xavier.
"I don't have a birth certificate," said Logan. "But I have honorable discharge papers for both world wars."
"Jean said you were older than I," said Professor Xavier.
"My claws are fused with Adamantium, but they are bone. Striker lied when he said he gave me claws. He was testing my memory." Logan passed around a picture of him with his claws extended taken during World War II. "It's only pictures because I'm never going to remember any of this shit, but I have a name."
Bruce looked at the picture with Logan in the background. "That's Steve Rogers. He'll be dropping off my bike. He's bringing Howie."
"What if he remembers me?" said Logan.
Professor Xavier said, "Either you tell him you have amnesia or you tell him that too many years have passed and it wasn't yesterday to you."
"You weren't fighting with those claws," said Cyclops. "You were trying to upstage Captain America for the camera."
"I would so not make bunny ears with my claws," said Logan.
"Not bunny ears." Cyclops laughed. "But you extended them as the flash went off."
xxxx
Finally, Steve arrived with Howie. Sif took eighteen month Howie and put his feet on the floor and took his hand.
"How is my little guy?" she asked. Her English was getting much better.
"I'm sure he wants a nap," said Steve.
"Nonsense. He needs to walk." Sif put free hand on her growing baby bump. "And I need the practice."
Howie was already leading Sif away.
Bruce hugged Steve. "Let her show Howie around. In a few months, I'm going to be a dad. Susanne told me to focus on the possible. I'm going to be a dad."
Steve hugged him back. "Nat works, so I'm a stay-at-home father. Who would think a man raised in the 30's would love watching his kid grow? Every time you turn around they learn something new. They have all these computer games; but simple toys are best. We can stack blocks for hours."
"Howie?" said Bruce. "Tony must love that."
"When Tony has a kid, he can name him Tony Jr.," said Steve.
"All the girls are probably asking Sif if they can hold Howie," said Bruce. "You won't see him until he needs his diaper changed."
Logan entered the living room. "Captain Rogers?"
Steve ran over to Logan, stopped short and looked at the Logan's hands. His eyes appeared to focus the spots between the finger bones where the blades protrude. "Konnichiwa, Logan."
Logan said, at least, a paragraph in Japanese. Then he looked at his feet.
"What did he say?" asked Bruce.
"I don't know." Steve shrugged his shoulders. "My Japanese is limited to hello and good-bye."
Bruce said, "Logan, I don't speak Japanese."
"I, apparently, do," said Logan.
"What did you say?" asked Bruce.
"I asked him how he was and how are his wife and son," said Logan. "And did he have a nice ride on the motorcycle."
"They're well," said Steve. "Domo Arigato."
Logan gave a small bow and walked away.
After Logan left the room, Steve said, "He had an adult son when I met him during the war. He wasn't sure if his son was alive or dead, and with the war, he had no way of finding out. He asked me if after the war, I could help him separate truth from rumor."
"Logan told us that he might have been born in the 1890's or earlier," Bruce said. "They didn't issue birth certificates back then."
"What just happened?" asked Steve.
"It isn't my place to say," Bruce simply replied.
"Let's see that bike," said Steve. Steve showed Bruce the bike - a reconditioned Harley-Davidson.
Bruce put on his helmet. "I'll drive it around a bit."
"You wired me the money," said Steve. "It's yours. I just need to sign over the title."
The last time he was on a motorcycle was the day he drove a borrowed bike to ride into battle. His life had changed so much since that day. He now had a job teaching of all things, a wife and a child on the way. He drove around the school a bit and down a country road then he decided to go back to the school. Something about all that power between his legs. Just him and the open road. Nice.
When he got back to the school, he leaped off the bike, put down the kickstand and put the helmet on the handlebars to find Steve waiting for him. "Let's get inside. You must be starved."
"No curry or Mexican food," said Steve. "I don't go for that hot stuff."
Sif was in the kitchen with Howie. He was on her lap and she was helping him drink from his sippy cup.
Bruce found a couple cans of tuna in the cabinet then took some bread out of the bread box. "How about tuna sandwiches? Unless the kids ate all the mayo." He found half a jar of mayonnaise in the refrigerator, but no onions or celery. "Toast good?"
"Sure," said Steve.
Bruce put 4 slices of white bread into the toaster. After using an electric can-opener to open the cans, he mixed the tuna with mayo, pepper, onion powder, and celery salt. After the toaster popped, he made two sandwiches for Steve then put more bread in the toaster for Sif and himself.
Then it put the sandwiches in front of Steve. "Company eats first. I saw milk in the fridge. Now that I have a bike, I won't have to rely on the others to make trips to the store." Bruce poured Steve a glass of milk.
"Thanks," said Steve.
Bruce made two more sandwiches and poured milk for himself and Sif then rinsed out the empty milk container and put it in the recycling bin. Finally, he sat down at the table. He only ate half his sandwich.
"Are you OK?" asked Steve.
"I haven't had much of an appetite since I returned to normal size," admitted Bruce.
"You have to watch your health," said Steve.
Sif finished her sandwich.
"I'll go on the scale." Bruce pushed the plate toward her. "You can finish mine."
"Thank you," said Sif.
Bruce drank some of his milk. Whole milk, a good source of calories.
Howie jumped off Sif's lap and climbed into his father's lap. He hadn't said a word, yet. Then some kids were shy around strangers. He probably talks his dad's ear off when other adults weren't around. Steve felt Howie's diaper. "I need to change him."
"The bag is in the big room," said Sif.
"The living room?" asked Steve.
"Living room," repeated Sif.
Steve carried his son into the living room, leaving Sif and Bruce alone in the kitchen.
Sif said in Norse. "You haven't been eating well since Rogue made you small. I'm worried."
Since he had been a giant the whole time Sif knew him, Bruce was small to her and yelling at her wasn't going to change her opinion. He took a deep breath and said in a calm voice, "This is my normal height. So I eat less than you. You're eating for two. I'm not."
Sif took his hand. "I'm your wife. It's my job to worry about you."
Bruce needed to return to mediating. "I'm not dying. Well, I am, but that won't be for another 35 to 45 years since I can't eat those life-extending apples without getting radioactive, again."
"If we make love, you won't break," said Sif.
"I can drink alcohol." Bruce wouldn't break; he was more worried that the Hulk would hurt Sif. "It will calm me a bit. Then my heart won't race and you can do your worst."