Entry tags:

-complete, -spoiler, bobbi morse, bruce banner

spoilers
Who: Bruce Banner & Bobbi Morse
What: Bobbi's getting a physical. Bruce is oblivious, as usual.
When: This afternoon
Rating/Warnings: Green/no warnings other than some spoilers for Endgame


The memories Bruce got over the past couple of weeks left him feeling pretty exhausted, though it only strengthened his resolve to get the clinic up and running so that he and Christine would be prepared to handle whatever might happen in this universe. He was determined that they were not going to lose anyone else. And he was determined to keep Natasha and Tony alive and well here.

Thanks to Tony’s money, they had all of the equipment and supplies they could possibly need. Bruce was working on an inventory and figuring out the most logical way to set up everything so that they could find it intuitively in an emergency situation.

He wasn’t expecting anyone and looked up with concern when someone entered the space. “Is everything okay?” he asked when he realized it was Bobbi. She was a nice girl and he appreciated her bringing him food when he was hard at work on the treatment for Jane. He also thought Tony was completely wrong about her intentions towards him.

---

People were getting memories. Other people. Not Bobbi. For some reason she was left out of the psychodump everyone else was going through. That might scare some people. For all she knew she might be dead in that reality which would explain why her mind remained clear of weird memories. Bobbi chose to see it was not being burdened by the emotional trip. She could work while the rest were reeling.

Today would be a combination was work and fun. She was going to visit the good Doctor Banner to have a physical. Heh. The burgeoning clinic to the weird and powerful needed baselines for everyone for their records. Bobbi decided now was a good time for that. And for more flirting with Bruce that would go unnoticed. Stark had to have opened a betting pool by now.

She chuckled at Bruce’s question when she strolled into the clinic. “Yep. Just here for my physical as requested by the doctor to the heroes.”

---

“Oh, great, we appreciate that,” Bruce said. He suspected they’d have to forcibly drag in more than a few folks so having people willingly come in made their lives much easier. “Have a seat, I’ll be right with you.”

He set aside the box of medical tape he was counting and went rummaging for one of the files they’d prepared for the baseline physicals. Once he had the paperwork he needed, he waved Bobbi back to the exam room. “It’s not fully set up yet, so I apologize for the mess.” It wasn’t really a mess, but it also wasn’t a perfectly polished exam room which is why he felt the need to address it.

---

Oh he was so adorable she couldn’t stand it. Bobbi decided to send Darcy a text while she waited.

Guess who is finally going to get me out of my clothes! That should stir things up a bit.

She followed Bruce into the exam room maybe a little too closely. “It’s still more organized than my bedroom.” This was becoming a psychological game. Bobbi would find as many ways as possible to drop words designed to reference the suggestion of intimacy. It was kind of like leading an informant.

“Did you install the AC yet or has Stark found a way to make the metal stuff not iceberg cold to the touch?”

---

The reference to her bedroom went right over Bruce’s head. “Well, we did opt for the plush leather exam tables,” he said. “But I can warm up the instruments with my hands so they aren’t too cold.”

He also didn’t notice her texting, nor did he pay attention when her alert went off indicating that she had a return message. Obviously he’s not doing it right if you’re texting me about it.

“Hop up,” he said. “We’ll start with a health history and then I’ll check your vitals.”

While she got settled, he rolled over his chair and sat down. “Full name and date of birth,” he said.

---

It may have gone past him, but psychology would suggest that bedroom was in there. Bobbi just had to help him make the connection to her and bedroom. This was becoming a challenge now. Besides, the more time she spent with Bruce the more she thought he was pretty cool.

He’s giving me a physical. They have leather exam tables. Hawt!

“You got warm hands, doc?” Bobbi smirked as she slid up to sit on that plush leather. “Good to know.” They got to the good parts. “Barbara Morse. Date of birth, nunya.” She grinned.

---

Bruce peered over the top of his glasses. “There’s no need for vanity, Agent Morse,” he said. “This is strictly professional.” He never really understood the whole thing with women not wanting to share their ages anyway.

“I try to keep my hands warm,” he said. “Makes it more comfortable for my patients.”

Still completely oblivious to any hidden meaning in her words. For a guy with seven PhDs, Bruce was not really all that smart.

---

“Bobbi,” she corrected. “When I’m not on the clock I’m Bobbi.” She watched him look at her. The over the glasses thing was almost too much! How was he not aware of any of this?

“Tell me what you do to keep your hands warm and I’ll tell you my birthdate.” She leaned toward him. “Quid pro quo.”

---

“Mostly, I just rub them together,” Bruce said, unsure why that was of interest to her or anyone else. “The friction creates heat.” It was simple physics really. Nothing terribly exciting.

He poised his pen over the paper so he could write down her date of birth when she provided it. “After your birth date, I’ll need any relevant medical history,” he said. “Major illnesses, injuries, surgeries, that sort of thing.”

---

“So does Tony have A/V capabilities in here?” Because she really hoped he’d hurt himself laughing over this.

“July 17, 1987.” Getting to the important stuff eliminated her amusement with each point she listed. There weren’t any major illnesses, but the injuries and surgeries was a long list. A SHIELD agent of her calibur was not unscathed by any stretch of the imagination. It ended with her pulling the shoulder of her shirt down to reveal a scar that looked to be maybe a year old. “Shotgun blast from behind. Close range.”

---

The long litany of injuries was unsurprising based on her history with SHIELD, but Bruce frowned when she pulled her shirt down to show him a more recent scar. He set down his pen and leaned forward to run his fingers over it. “This is pretty fresh,” he said. The exit wound was ugly and he rolled a little behind her so he could examine the entrance wound as well. “No sign of infection though. That’s good.” One thing he could say in favor of SHIELD was that they had high caliber medical professionals.

“What happened?” Bruce didn’t really need the details for her medical history, but he couldn’t help the curiosity.

---

It had actually been the closest to dying Bobbi had ever been. Granted, she’d had other injuries at the time, but the gunshot had been what tipped her more toward shuffling off her mortal coil. She didn’t like thinking about it, but not because of the shot, the reason for it or how close she came to dying. It had been the lead up and she still had PTSD about it.

When she spoke it was in that flat tone a soldier gave when detailing a report. “I was bait in a hostage situation. The subject had rigged a trap so that when the entry point opened the shotgun would shoot whoever came through. I managed to shift my position enough to take the shot.” All the while being tied to a chair with torture injuries. Good times.

---

Bruce recognized that flat tone and picked up his pen again so he could make a note on her chart about PTSD. He might not be that kind of doctor, but it was an important thing to be aware of when treating her. Especially if she ever presented with another gunshot wound. It also said a lot about her willingness to put herself in harm’s way. That wasn’t unusual with SHIELD agents though. At least not in his experience.

“I assume the trap was set as a kill shot,” he said. Otherwise, he couldn’t imagine why she would take the shot herself. The placement made him think that she was very lucky it didn’t end up killing her.

He wasn’t going to judge her for the decision. He’d take a shot for his team too. “Why do I get the feeling you’re going to need a punch card for the clinic?”

Sometimes he could joke about things.

---

The trap had been set for Hunter specifically. Ward knew his stats. Head shot. No second chances. It had been dumb luck that the shot had only gone through her shoulder instead of her own head. Bobbi liked to brag that it had been careful strategic leaping instead of luck, but everyone knew the truth.

“The subject wasn’t going to allow for anything less.” Ward was an asshole and a traitor. Bobbi really wanted a piece of him.

The joke made her smile, but the chuckle just wouldn’t come. “Can I have my own plush leather exam table and extra warm hands?”

---

“I’d prefer if you made the effort not to be a repeat visitor,” Bruce said, knowing that was probably asking too much. Fury didn’t hire agents who did things halfway. “But if it becomes necessary, I’ll reserve an exam table for you.”

He wouldn’t normally joke about such things, but he got the impression that keeping things light would be the wiser course of action here. “Okay, anything else I need to know about your history?” he asked.

---

As the mad man said...Here. We. Go. Bobbi. Smiled.

“I’m divorced,” she began, then continued without giving him a chance to interrupt. “I’m a Cancer which means I’m sensitive, intuitive and optimistic. I like camping and hiking over sunbathing and surfing...my arrival wardrobe notwithstanding. My favorite color is sage green. My favorite flower is wisteria. I think vegetarians are in denial, and I prefer brunettes.” She gave a pointed smile.

Misinterpret THAT, Doctor Banner!

---

Her recitation sounded a little like a personal ad and that did give Bruce a moment’s pause before he dismissed it. “I’ve found Chinese astrology to be more accurate than Western,” he said. “Nominally, at least. I think being a Rooster fits me more than being a Sagittarius.”

There were a few things that he did note on her file, specifically the divorce and the not being a vegetarian. “Any history of pregnancy?”

---

Bobbi. Blinked. Oh my god this guy is either just that thick or isn’t interested!

Fine.

“Are you gay?” No, she wasn’t answering any further questions.

---

Bruce blinked in surprise at her question. “No,” he said, wondering what made her ask. There was only one thing he could think of.

“I’m accepting though, so if you have concerns about sharing personal information with me, you don’t need to,” he said.

---

“Accepting huh.” Ok. He started it. This could go poorly. Really poorly. There wouldn’t be much left of her to bury, but it would be a spectacular way to punch out.

Bobbi made sure to lock eyes with Banner as she slithered, there was no other way to describe the motion, off the exam table. The movement made the leather creak in a suggestive way. Once her feet touched the floor she held her hands up in a peace gesture, reached out to lightly touch her fingertips to his cheeks then leaned in…

---

Even as he watched her get off of the table and felt her fingers brushing against his cheek, Bruce was not expecting her to lean in and kiss him and it took him a moment to pull back once their lips touched.

“Uh, what are you doing?” he asked.

---

Ok that was nice! The question was hilarious, however. She was tempted to answer: Molesting my Primary Care but thought that might be too much. A wee bit over the top. So when he pulled back she let him, took her hands back and straightened up. Can’t make too many sudden moves or she’d spook him.

“Proving to you that this optimistic, outdoorsy Cancer isn’t gay either.” Bobbi grinned but it wasn’t in any way mocking. Just full of mischief. “Are we done here?” In other words The ball is in your court. What are you gonna do?

---

As oblivious as Bruce had been to everything else, he did not miss the underlying meaning of Bobbi’s question and it took him a few seconds too long to decide how to answer it. The last time a woman kissed him, she followed it up with shoving him off of a cliff to trigger a transformation to his big, green alter ego. He didn’t expect Bobbi to do anything remotely similar, wasn’t even sure if it would work if she tried given that he still hadn’t quite managed to figure out the best way to get Hulk to come out, but he also knew he wasn’t in a position to do anything else. He was sorely out of practice with this type of thing, hadn’t attempted in more than a decade, since the initial accident that created Hulk.

He rubbed his hand along the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah, we can do your bloodwork later,” he said. Right now, he needed some time to figure out how he felt about this unexpected turn of events.

---

Bobbi had expected this kind of reaction from him. She thought it was actually a good sign. He wasn’t immediately calling her an idiot, fending her off with that little hammer they beat on your knees with or even screaming out of the room. It was a step in the right direction even if it was a baby step.

“Sure, doc,” she said. Her tone was more gentle than a simple agreement required. “I’ll see you next time I bring food to the lab.”

She didn’t touch him again. That would be pushing things way too fast. Instead Bobbi edged her way to the door to let herself out.