1963-07-07 - Deal with the Green Giant
Summary: Rogers fills Banner in on the deal he's gotten from SHIELD.
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None


Following the incident in Nevada, Banner had collected himself, accessed his locker at the bus station, and went along his way. Such journeys had routinized — he knew what he had to do to hide among the crowd, how to make the right connections in a new city, and places in the city that were adequate to stay.

Adequate had become a flexible word. Bruce had never been one to complain. And through his windy life-path, he'd become accustomed to less. He'd learned it easier to hide in abject poverty than even barely above the poverty line.

When he'd arrived in DC, he'd slipped into one the city's seedier areas and negotiated for a small near-closet at a steal, mailed a copy of his research to a trusted colleague, and planned his exit strategy in the event he'd need it.

And then, as he'd said, he'd waited for the agreed upon time, and taken a stroll to the aforementioned meeting place.

There is nothing extraordinary about Banner today. His black ball cap, black slacks and light blue long-sleeve button shirt are all nondescript.

Currently, he sits on the park bench, exactly where he'd remembered it. Slowly, carefully, his fingers run across the back of the bench, identifying a few familiar markings carved into its side. His head shakes lightly as his lips curve slowly with memory. He sighs, rests his hands behind his neck, and leans back in his seat, waiting.

*

Steve had a bit of his own adventure after meeting with Banner. Almost directly from getting off the plane he headed straight towards Peggy Carter's office at SHIELD headquarters. It was their first meeting since the commotion that followed his de-thawing. There was a lot in that conversation that was about him, but a major portion had to do with Bruce Banner.

Steve made on purchase from the first big check he received from the Army. He told them they could keep it, but they insisted. He wanted to give the money to charity, but they said many things about needing him to be worked into society in a positive manner. If the Star Spangled Avenger went crazy, they'd have a PR mess on their hands. So they cut a check to a few charities and gave him the money anyways. Seems like Steve is getting pretty good at this deal making.

So he rode his new motorcycle down from New York and it's the firs ttime in a long time he felt free.

"Hey," Steve says as he walks up and takes a seat. He leans forward, fingers interlaced and elbows on the knees as he looks out at the people passing by. "Was able to pull a few strings. But, as I'm finding out, everything has strings. Have an offer for you to help you stop running. If it's not for you, you'll still be running. But I won't be chasing you."

*

The greeting has Bruce leaning forward with his elbows resting on his quads. He manages a flicker of a smile — small and self-deprecating as it is — and he manages a nod. The silent gesture acts as his only greeting, but his manner is calm, relaxed, even. He's altogether different than when the pair had last met.

The ball cap is removed from his head, and the doctor combs his fingers through his mop-like hair; a gentle reminder that he really should have a haircut. Instinctively, Banner's chin lifts and his eyes scan the few places he could imagine sharpshooters laying in wait. The habit, while altogether paranoid, also is just that, a habit. The notion of strings causes his eyes to crinkle with the small smile that tugs at his lips. There's a layer of sadness that rests in the expression, even with the irony of merriment, the eternal heaviness borne by someone carrying a burden the don't want always wears, even when Banner lacks true prescience around it.

He chuckles mirthlessly and then nods, "All the world's a stage and all the people merely players." There's a twinkle in his eyes as he quotes Shakespeare, it's not a practice to which he's accustomed. "What kind of strings do the powers that be wish to pull?" He rubs his temples. "You can ask General Thaddeus Ross, I never made a very good puppet."

*

"Don't know General Ross, but I don't like him already," Steve says with a wry grin. "Anyway, the deal that I've made is with Director Carter of SHIELD. You've been on their radar for a while, and they work for NATO and not the government. That being said, Director Carter has enough clout to get the Feds off your back. She is setting up a talented team and wants me to be part of it. I agreed so long as there was also room for you to work as a scientist. She countered that SHIELD would need to keep the file on you open. I think that'd be fine so long as you were the one keeping the file. That your work, in addition to helping us out, would be a way you could find out about yourself. Search for a cure. That sort of thing. And if they go against it in any way, we walk. And we go public."

Steve shrugs his shoulders, "That's really all I could get Banner. I'm not sure what you need." Pause. "Other than a shave." Pause. "Which you could get, if you take the deal."

*

Bruce rubs his face and frowns at the scratchiness of the bristles on his fingertips. Steve is right, he really could use a shave. The deal, however, prompts Banner to squint as he considers its weight. The glimmer of mischief that reflected in his eyes has become somewhat subdued as he attempts to consider this team. And then finally he asks, "What kind of team?" He sucks in a sharp breath, "If I agree, I hope it's clear that this is for me. Not — " he blinks hard and doesn't finish the thought.

"He's unpredictable," as if that explains everything, "and often makes his own decisions." There's another flicker of a smile. His hands run through his hair again, and he finally asks, "You trust this… Director Carter? You think she's trustworthy?
"

*

"Probably would have married her if not for crashing into an iceberg," Steve says with a shrug. "Trust her more than anyone…that's the weird thing about an iceberg, you know, it doesn't move." Steve laughs a bit. "I know he's unpredictable. I know he makes his own decisions. We'd want you as a scientist, but I think that eventually he'll grow. He'll figure things out. Everyone can learn. Even the Hulk."

*

There's strange solidarity at the first statement, followed by a solid nod. "The whole world changes around you while you stand still," Bruce asserts quietly to his feet. He rubs his nose, and nods at the thoughts about the Hulk. He shifts, sliding to his feet. He takes a few steps and then stops. On a single foot, he pivots to face Steve, and then nods. "Alright." His jaw tightens. "But at the first sign of distrust," his head shakes. He will be gone.

*

"You and I are the icebergs of our time," Steve says as he looks up to Banner. "Good." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a notebook. Several pages have already been written in, but he tears out a page that's been prepared for this moment. "Here's the address. It's a Chinese Restaurant, and it's pretty good. I mean, I prefer the burger joint across the street, but I don't get to decide where they put their headquarters. Burn it once you've memorized it."

*

Banner's dark eyes peer at Steve with a silent question: you've got to be kidding, right? But then he finally nods. He accepts the paper and studies the address several times. "It's good to know where to eat." His lips tighten into an unconvincing smile followed by a nod. "I'll see you there in short-enough order." Another flicker of a smile is followed by a nod. He begins to tread away before stopping and peeking over his shoulder, "Captain? Thanks."

*

"Thank you, Doctor. And, hey, if you need any cash I got some to get you through. Your buddies at the Pentagon just gave me a big check to say they were sorry for not finding me. Pretty ironic you'd be using it to buy a lift."

*

THere's a smirk at the offer, Banner has become rather accustomed to the state of things. "Finding a way back to," he lifts the piece of paper, "could be simpler with some help."

*

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