Disclaimer: Not mine

Tinkering with his computer, trying to secure a connection so that he could share a new theory with Tony, Bruce thought briefly back to what his words during the battle with the Chitauri:

"I'm always angry."

Well, he thought with a restrained grin, I'm not the only one.

It had been about a month since Donna had 'convinced' him to move in with her, and it had become very quickly apparent that the temper she'd shown when they'd first met was only the tip of the iceberg. For once in, he couldn't even remember how many years, Bruce was happy. Really happy. Even as Donna had yelled at him for forgetting to restock the fridge, storming from the house they shared in a remote village, far away from too many people, Bruce hadn't even forced himself to bite back the grin that clambered across his cheeks. It was those small, domestic moments that made it truly hit home how precious she was to him. Nothing phased her; not chores, or secret agencies summoning him in the middle of the night, and most definitely not a rather large and loud green problem that poked its oversized head into Bruce's business when it was least appreciated.

Bruce shook the modem a few times, peering into the USB socket and biting his lip when he couldn't identify the problem. He was a genius, he should be able to do something as simple as video message someone in New York; the technology clearly had other ideas though, as the little symbol in the corner of the computer screen glared at Bruce, the yellow bar jeering petulantly. Bruce took a deep breath, more annoyed than frustrated; his friendship with Tony may have had positive effects on his social life, but it also meant that not being able to share new data swiftly became a serious 'first world problem'. A problem however, that presented its source with zero effort on Bruce's part. A brutal rumbling, as if the skies were being torn apart followed a sharp flash of light, making Bruce jump just a fraction. He had been so absorbed in his work that he hadn't even noticed the sky turning dark; Bruce pushed the curtains from the glass, peering at the outside world as great globules of rain pelting the ground, churning up the dirt of the understated front garden. A moment's worry, and the sight of Donna's coat still hanging crisp and dry beside the door had Bruce pulling the phone off of the hook and dialling the now familiar number. A few dull rings and Donna's voice shot through the line.

"Bruce, did you think of anything else we need?" she demanded, getting straight to the point as always. Bruce rolled his eyes, glad that the redhead couldn't see him.

"No, I was just calling to see how long you'd be," he explained, glancing once again at the torrential downpour, "If you give me an ETA, I can call you a cab from here."

"I am perfectly capable of doing that myself, thank you." Donna retorted, her voice carrying over what sounded like the growl of buses, cars, and bustling crowds, before adding sweetly, "But that's lovely of you offer. I might make that up to you when I get home."

"You're already bringing me food, in the rain," Bruce chuckled, waiting for the snappish reply, "Surely I should be the one making it up to you."

Bruce could hear the smile in her voice as Donna replied coyly.

"Well, you have been wrapped up in your science toys lately, I deserve at least-OI! What the Hell do you think you're doing?"

Bruce tensed as the sound of shouting and a struggle flittered down the line, with Donna making herself very vocal.

"Donna?" he demanded, taking deep calming breaths, it would do no good for anyone for him to panic, "Donna what's happening?"

There was a clatter, as if the phone had dropped to the concrete, but Donna's voice could still be heard, ringing above the others.

"Get your hands off me or I SWEAR-"

The connection was broken, and Bruce was left, wide eyed, listening to the monotonous whine of the dial-tone, as the rain continued to pour on the other side of the window.

Hope you like. The mystery deepens.