HUD: Soooooo...I'm gonna go ahead and apologize. You'll know why in about five seconds. Enjoy!

This isn't fair.

Bruce wasn't much of an idealist anymore. Before the Other Guy, sure. He was resolute in his thoughts and ideas, his standings with other people. He never was much for company, being much like Tony when he was young. The smartest in the class, often the youngest, and the A-typical side effect of large Coke-bottle glasses was getting your face shoved into dirt for being the one that broke the curve.

Granted, he still believed that not all people were bad and that kids will be kids, however cruel or kind. Even after the failed serum, he still believed it. Mostly. The military was another point entirely that he didn't ever have the energy to spend on, but general populace was alright. After he could control himself, of course.

Tony became his best friend rather quickly. He was one of the few that never judged him and saw him as Bruce Banner, with the Other Guy treated as a fond stepchild. Bruce was pretty sure that Hulk shared his love for Tony, if their ability to fight in the field together was any sort of clue.

When Loki eventually slipped back into their lives as Lance, Bruce couldn't have been happier. It was hard not to be, what with Tony's attitude shifting for the better. He seemed much happier than he had ever been with Pepper, and Bruce only knew that because of how close they were. Tony Stark was a multi-layered enigma, hidden behind bright smiles and a sharp wit with higher defenses than Fort Knox could ever dream of. Somehow, a stranger had leveled the playing field in only a few short days, and when that stranger became Loki, Bruce would be lying if he said he was surprised.

The surprise wasn't in Loki, but in Lance's 'best friend', Gregory Bell. His theft and kidnapping had been quite the shock, especially when his connections to the Triad became more pronounced. Volpe is what he prefered, after Gregory Bell was discovered to be an alias. He was every bit as his name described - cunning, intelligent, inquisitive, and rather sly. Sly enough to manage to still plague Bruce's thoughts, long after Loki had healed him right before the doctor's eyes.

In the six months after Tony bought the Avengers Initiative and Loki became a regular fixture in the group, Bruce felt his mind drifting. The mercenary was still young (not hopelessly, but Bruce had hope) and the doctor couldn't help but wonder what had become of him. He didn't want to ask Loki, for fear that the god's obvious distaste with the thief would channel onto him. His curiosity soon became too much and he found himself asking, and even better, Loki was suggesting a meeting.

Loki didn't need to convince him, or even strongly suggest. He agreed without preamble and was even more pleased to see the god make due on his end of the bargain. Just as the doors for his makeshift medical room slide open, Volpe was already sitting on the twin bed turned examination table.

"Mah, what's up, doc?" Volpe said, grinning from ear to ear. Bruce felt himself smile back at the horrible Bugs Bunny attempt.

"How are you, Volpe?" He asked warmly as he crossed the room. The man was just as he remembered - bright blue eyes and too long brown hair - as he dropped his hand to his shoulder and squeezed. The thief shrugged but didn't pull away from the touch.

"Oh you know, same old same old," he answered vaguely, but his smile never wavered. "I'm glad Lance convinced you to see me."

Bruce fought the urge to roll his eyes. Volpe was a lot like Tony in his teasing and nick naming. Bruce decided that was why they hated each other. "Loki didn't need to convince me - I'm always happy to help."

"But I haven't been you patient for months, doc," Volpe drawled. Bruce turned away with a chuckle. He busied himself with gathering the things he used for the Avengers' physicals as Volpe continued. "Did ya miss me?"

Bruce paused, but only for a fraction of a second. His heart hammered in his chest with the accompanying thought of Yes, I did. Instead, he smiled to play down the intensity he suddenly felt and nodded. "About as much as Loki."

"Ouch, doc," Volpe said behind him, feigning slight. "I thought we were pals."

Bruce laughed, hoping it didn't sound as nervous as he felt. Where did that come from? "So you just need a physical, right?"

"Yeah," Volpe said through a yawn. "What do I do?"

Bruce turned back, pleased with the things he gathered, and quirked an eyebrow at the younger man. "I'm sorry?"

"Do I like, do jumping jacks or something?" The mercenary asked. Bruce blinked before realizing he was being serious.

"You've never had a physical," he deadpanned. The faintest of blushes dusted Volpe's cheeks as his eyes dropped to the tiled floor.

"Yeah," he answered, his legs crossing and uncrossing at the ankles. "Never had a chance. My sister couldn't afford insurance."

Volpe's story flooded back to Bruce, making the doctor grab the rolling tray he was using quickly. It had been tragic - orphaned at a young age, not unlike himself or Tony, but also having his only remaining family member crushed right before his eyes by falling debris of the very Tower he now sat in. It was almost three years ago, now. So much has changed.

"Well, start by taking off your shoes and shirt," he answered, coming back to himself. He pushed the tray over closer to Volpe. The thief was grinning at him when he looked up. "What?"

"Trying to get me undressed so soon, doc?" He teased, wagging his eyebrows suggestively. Bruce ignored his slight shiver and rolled his eyes.

"All in the name of science," he countered, making the fox laugh. He pulled his ever-present black zipper hoodie off along with the tank top beneath it and dropped it unceremoniously to the floor. His boots and socks fell beside them a moment later, leaving him in dark jeans.

Bruce scanned a critical eye over the younger man's torso. There were no scars from his run-in with Loki, which thoroughly impressed him. But there were new scars that Bruce hadn't seen the last time they met. The scars were white and relatively small but stood out brightly against Volpe's naturally tan skin. The colour had faded due to his profession, but he was the natural tan that only a true native to Italy would be. He swung his feet listlessly under Bruce's gaze.

"What are these from?" Bruce asked, deciding that his intense scrutiny may be making the man uncomfortable.

"Oh, you know - falling through windows, saving kittens from trees," the thief answered. Bruce snorted in amusement as he jotted a few observations down on his clipboard. "Helping little old ladies cross the street - the like."

"Is that before or after the razors?" Bruce asked offhandedly. Volpe shrugged.

"Before," he answered vaguely. Bruce hmmed but didn't comment. Volpe had his own life as a mercenary for hire, and Bruce was well aware. However, he didn't have to enjoy it.

After marking a few more places, he set aside the clipboard and took up his stethoscope. "Breathe in for me," he said, placing the metal end against Volpe's chest. He did as asked and held it. When Bruce nodded, he let it out. "Again." Bruce moved the pad to between his shoulder blades. Volpe did as asked, and Bruce was satisfied.

"Your lungs sound great," he said, jotting down his findings. When he looked back, Volpe was beaming at him. Such an open expression drew a soft smile from Bruce. "No smoking?"

"Nope!" Volpe answered brightly, his tone not unlike a proud child. Bruce chuckled and pushed his glasses further up his nose. "Some asshat tried to burn down a building with me in it, but I'm good."

That gave Bruce pause - someone tried to burn down a building with Volpe in it? He squeezed his eyes shut and checked his own breathing, his anger suddenly boiling. In, out, in, out - who the fuck -

A hand on his forearm stilled him. Bruce's eyes flew open and stared back into Volpe's swirling irises. They were darker than usual, almost a navy, and full of a concern Bruce couldn't believe. "Hey, doc - no worries, huh? Your patient is tough as nails, alright?"

Bruce felt himself nodding and his anger slowly ebbed away. Volpe squeezed his arm quickly before dropping his hand back to his lap. He blinked, and his usual crystal blue was back. "Besides, I showed those fucks what's up."

"What happened?" Bruce asked, hoping the truth would be a distraction.

Volpe waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, nothing major. I was hired to steal back some encrypted code from some piece of shit mafia boss. Turns out the hiring was an inside job and I got dragged into some pretty serious family shit. Needless to say, I was sold out, shot at, and nearly burned to a crisp. Who knew the Ukrainians liked their fox barbecue style?"

Bruce snorted to fight down his laughter. He eyed Volpe, who knew damn well what he was doing, and grinned back. "Anyway, I got out before the rest and locked them in. No biggie."

Bruce knew he should have been upset that Volpe spoke so callously of death, but he knew logically he did what he had to do to survive. "Why not just let them go?" He couldn't help himself - ever the idealist.

"They saw my face," Volpe answered quietly. Bruce looked up from his notes and frowned.

"Your mask?" He asked, remembering the swirling emerald and gold mask Loki has magicked up for him the last they met.

"Don't have one," the man answered. He drummed his fingers on his knee. "That sweet one Lance gave me was only temp, and Stark cracked the other one with my face, which Lance very kindly finished under his boot."

"What do you do?" Bruce asked, curious. That couldn't be safe. Did that mean that Volpe killed all his contacts?

"Hoodie and black paint, man," Volpe answered dryly.

"So you run around looking like a raccoon and call yourself a fox?" Bruce grinned, remembering the picture a wet Volpe had been with the black paint trailing down to his chin.

"Oh ha ha," he drawled, shooting Bruce a glare. "I do what I can, man."

"Why not get a new one? I'm checking your ears."

Volpe tilted his head as Bruce pressed the otoscope into his right ear. "Haven't found the right one yet."

"Have you looked?" Bruce tilted Volpe's chin softly to get to his other ear.

"Duh," he answered. "But I can't find the one. The first had been my father's from Italy. New York just doesn't make a columbino like the craftsmen from home."

"Do you remember much?" Bruce asked, absorbed in Volpe's words as he attempted to mark his chart.

"A little. We visited a few summers, before they died, and I've been there a few times on jobs, but not recently," Volpe admitted. Bruce nodded and set his clipboard down again.

"I'm going to check the mobility in your shoulders and neck, now," he said, rubbing his hands slightly to rid the chill. Once he pressed his fingertips along Volpe's spine, he continued: "Why don't you make a trip? I'm sure you could find the time."

"Maybe," Volpe said with a shrug, jostling Bruce's fingers slightly. He muttered an apology and stilled. "It's hard to leave the country when you've got eyes and ears everywhere."

"Ah," Bruce answered. He knew all too well. It's hard to leave, and even harder to return if people are watching for you.

"Dr. Banner, pardon this intrusion." JARVIS' voice rang clear through the room, startling the doctor into tightening his grip on Volpe's bare shoulder.

"No problem, JARVIS," he answered, clearing his throat and relaxing his grin on Volpe. "What can I do for you?"

"The Avengers are being summoned," the AI answered smoothly. "Shall I decline your offer to attend?"

Bruce's eyed the back of Volpe's neck and nodded. "Yeah. Send my apologies. I'm sure Tony will understand after Loki explains."

"Master Laufeyson has volunteered to take your place, Dr. Banner." Oh, that was a surprise. Bruce nodded again.

"Thank you, JARVIS. Wish them well for me."

"Will do, sir." Bruce continued pressing along Volpe's shoulders in silence. It continued through his inspection and was quite companionable. Volpe moved easily with him as he lifted his arm away from his body and rotated gently. Every muscle moved and bunched as it should, flexing and pulling gracefully. Bruce kept his mind strictly professional, hoping his fingers weren't lingering too long at any particular spot.

Volpe was slim but very muscular. His frame mirrored that of an Olympic athlete, which was no surprise. He was a mercenary, a thief - he had to be prepared for anything and everything that may be asked of him. It was just a shame that that was his path. Bruce felt that, had they all met under better circumstances, Tony would be willing and able to accept him into the group. Perhaps, with a little persuasion, Bruce may be able to plant the seed. He remembered Volpe holding his own decently against Loki until he took that shot at Tony. They could always use someone as quick witted -

"You okay, doc?" Volpe's voice pulled him from his reverie. He nodded and caught Volpe's eye, straining to look over his shoulder. "Can I put my arms down now, then?"

"Ah, yes," Bruce answered. How long had he been lost in thought? Volpe sighed and pulled his arms to his chest, rubbing his wrist. He walked around the table and grabbed his clipboard. "Just your knees, now, then a few questions."

The thief nodded as Bruce picked up the little rubber hammer to tap his knee caps. Both responded well. Bruce leaned down to scoop up Volpe's tank top and handed it over. "You can put this on now."

"Aw, yes sir," Volpe huffed. He made a show of not wanting to put his shirt on, which Bruce found endlessly amusing. He wheeled up a chair and sat down.

"Alright - do you smoke?"

"Nope."

"Drink?"

Volpe grinned. "Trick question?"

Bruce lifted an eyebrow. "How much?"

"A lot," he answered vaguely. "Admittedly, not as much as Lance's boy toy, but enough."

Bruce nodded and jotted down a few things. "Sex?"

"Male," Volpe answered with a yawn. Bruce laughed.

"I meant frequency, but alright," Bruce chuckled as he marked 'yes'. "Do you practice safely?"

"Define 'safe'," Volpe said, even adding air quotes with his fingers. He was grinning, obviously enjoying tormenting and twisting all of Bruce's questions. It was endearing.

"If I have to, then you aren't," he answered cheekily. Volpe reddened slightly, and Bruce briefly wondered if this was all an act.

"It's, uh, been slow," Volpe finally admitted. "But always safely."

"Do you need to be tested?" Bruce asked. Volpe scoffed.

"Hell no! I'd die by some asshole's bullet before a damn STD gets me," Volpe huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. Bruce couldn't fight his grin as he marked 'no' on needing a test and ever having a diagnosis.

"Anal sex?" Bruce asked, keeping his tone neutral. It was unavoidable, and he didn't want to dwell too much on what the answer could imply.

"Yes," Volpe answered with all seriousness. His previous teasing tone was gone. Bruce looked up briefly and was floored by the intensity in Volpe's eyes. The crystal blue was navy again, and Bruce felt heat work up the back of his neck. It took more willpower than he cared to admit to pull his gaze back to his paperwork. He swallowed thickly and continued.

Volpe couldn't answer much about his family illness or genetics, so Bruce drew a vail of blood to run for testing while he took his height and weight. Volpe pulled his socks on before he sat back down.

"Just your blood pressure now," Bruce said. Volpe offered his arm as Bruce wrapped the compression around his bicep. He gave the pump the Volpe to squeeze and watched the monitor.

"Is it normal?" Volpe asked. Bruce nodded, and Volpe continued to squeeze. He shifted a little to the left. "Now?"

His squirming made Bruce chuckle. "Yes. Shifting from one side to the other doesn't change it."

"What does?" He asked, eyes wide and curious. Bruce felt a warmth creep through his chest.

"Bad eating, malnutrition, alcohol, stress," Bruce listed. Volpe pumped with each addition.

"Do emotions affect it?" Volpe asked quietly.

"If they're strong enough, yes," Bruce answered. Volpe nodded. Bruce stood to get a closer look at the monitor and jotted down the results. It was mostly normal, even if slightly elevated. He wondered what Volpe could possibly be nervous about.

"Is that something you...ah, deal with?" Oh. That explained it. Bruce ducked his head to hide his smile as he loosened the blood pressure band.

"Not as much as before," he answered. "Almost anything could set me off, before. Now, I can nearly walk the streets without much effort. It's liberating, and not really something I even expected to accomplish."

Volpe nodded. "That's good. I'm glad for you." This time Bruce caught his gaze when he smiled.

"Thanks," he said, folding the blood pressure ring and adding it back to his tray. If his fingers lingered a bit longer, he told himself, it was because he was checking for swelling. "Well, all that's left is the blood work. Which shouldn't be much longer." Bruce glanced briefly at his watch. The testing took thirty minutes at most, which left maybe ten minutes. "Do you want something to drink?"

"Are you going to feed it to me?" Volpe teased. Bruce almost choked at the leer being thrown his way. He knew Volpe had his moments of insanity, but even his sane shift in emotion was manic at best.

Bruce ducked his head and chuckled, a nervous little noise that sounded tinny even to him. "I think you can hold the bottle this time." He crossed to a mini fridge near his desk and pulled out two bottles of water. Volpe was lacing his boots when Bruce held the bottle out.

The fox glanced up for a moment before finishing off a knot and taking the bottle. He tucked his laces down the sides of the boots as he opened the bottle with his teeth. The found of plastic on bone made Bruce's head hurt.

"You shouldn't do that," he chided, taking his seat back. "That damages your enamel."

Volpe shrugged and took a long swig of the bottle, his Adam's apple bobbing subtly. "I'm sure chewing through rope isn't healthy either, but a thief has to make money."

Bruce could only shake his head. "You know, you're quite intelligent, Volpe. Why do you still do this?"

Volpe screwed the lid back on slowly, seemingly lost in thought. His eyes dropped to his lap, giving Bruce an excellent view of exactly how long and dark his eyelashes were. When he looked up, all the weight of his harsh life reflected in his eyes. "That's all I know how to do, Bruce."

Bruce blinked, shocked, as he stared back into Volpe's eyes. All the bravado and cockiness were gone, replaced with something that he could only describe as hollowness. Suddenly, Volpe didn't look the twenty-eight year old battle hardened mercenary that had sauntered in - he looked exactly the way Bruce imagined he had when his parents died, when his sister died, and when he thought he died. Broken and alone, with no one to rely on but himself, and he knew he would never have all the answers.

Bruce moved without much thought; his bottle was set on the mobile tray next to where he was about to put Volpe's. The thief's expression shuttered and he opened his mouth to blow it all off because, as much as they didn't want to admit it, Volpe was a lot like Tony in his psychological defenses. Bruce didn't give him the chance, however - the bottle was gone and the only thing between them was air.

Bruce wrapped his arms tightly around Volpe's neck and shoulders and pulled him forward. The mercenary resisted only for a moment, most likely due to honed reflexes, before he allowed the embrace. It was a few more moments before his arms rested lightly on Bruce's hips, and even longer still before Volpe pressed his face against Bruce's collar. He sighed, his breath warm, before finally relaxing completely.

"...you're warm," Volpe muttered, voice muffled by Bruce's clavicle and shirt collar. Bruce couldn't help his light chuckle. It stirred the mess that was Volpe's hair under his chin, sending the smell of pine into the air. He found it oddly fitting for the sly man.

"Gamma radiation," he answered lightly, as if the answer was a private joke. Volpe seemed to hold tighter to him, making him smile faintly. Bruce didn't expect the embrace to last much more than a few seconds, but it seemed that Volpe had other plans.

Bruce heard the whir of the blood testing machine stop and began to pull back. Volpe only tightened his grip and pressed his nose almost painful against Bruce's neck. The doctor gulped, his heart rate raising, but he wasn't concerned about the Other Guy popping out. Volpe was pressed fully against his chest as Bruce stood between his knees. He could feel the rise and fall of the thief's breathing, so he was more than certain Volpe could feel his heart hammering against his ribcage. Even from before, Bruce had felt a connection with the younger man, something of a kindred spirit, perhaps. Now, that same connection was stirring into something more volatile that he wasn't sure he could deal with. Bruce felt things far stronger than he should for a man of his age and experience. He rested his chin on the top of Volpe's head and sighed softly. This was just for comfort, nothing more.

At least, that's what he was going to tell him.

This isn't fair.

"Bruce?" Volpe whispered. His breath tickled, but Bruce ignored it in favour of nodding. He tried not to get caught up in the way Volpe said his name. "I know this may be uncomfortable, but thanks."

Bruce chuckled again. "It's alright. Everyone needs a crutch, even super mercenaries."

Volpe's laugh ghosted under his collar. Bruce decided that okay, that was now too much, even for his self-control. When he pulled back, Volpe let him. The thief dropped his eyes to his lap as Bruce crossed to the blood tester. He read the printout quickly.

"Well, good news is none of your vitals are off and your white blood count is spot on. Bad news is you should probably stop eating so much bacon," Bruce joked. His grin fell when Volpe didn't even react. The man still seemed drawn into himself, his shoulders slumped forward. "Volpe?"

"Actually, doc," the fox said, looking across the room. His eyes were bright, almost too bright, and Bruce marveled at their expressiveness. He had never seen Volpe in all his masked glory, but he could imagine the ceramic and black paint contrasted beautifully against such bright eyes. His lips pulled back into a broad grin, revealing those sharp canines. "I wanted to tell you something."

His tone was resolute, as if nothing Bruce could say would change his mind. So, Bruce nodded. "Alright."

"Well, it starts off as more of a question," Volpe began, hopping down from his perch gracefully. He scooped up his hoodie quickly. "Why did you agree to see me?"

Bruce refused to let his surprise show. "Because I thought you may need some help."

Volpe nodded, his grin turning lopsided as he pulled his hoodie on. "Okay, okay, I can see that. You're a humanitarian and all, so that's cool. Is that all?"

He's goading me, Bruce realized. There was something Volpe wanted to know, and Bruce doubted it was classified. Of all of them, he probably would be the weakest link, but Volpe's demeanor teetered more on the edge of playfulness. Fine - he could play along. "Maybe. What does it matter?"

Volpe continued to grin as he zipped his hoodie up to his sternum. "Oh, maybe because I'm just interested. Foxes are curious and sly by nature, after all."

Bruce nodded. "That's true."

"Secondly," Volpe said, seemingly ignoring Bruce's answer. He leaned against the exam table and crossed his arms over his chest. "I will not give up bacon. You're fucking crazy."

Bruce barked out a quick laugh, immediately throwing a hand over his mouth to stifle it. They were alone, so what did it matter anyway? "Fine, your body."

"Damn straight," the thief answered cheekily. Bruce couldn't help his fond smile. "Thank you, Dr. Banner." His tone lost most of its teasing tone as he stooped to pick up a bag Bruce didn't realize was under the table. Volpe rummaged around until he found a pen near the front and crossed quickly to Bruce. "Gimme your hand."

"For you to write on?" When Volpe nodded, Bruce folded both of his hands behind his back. "No way!"

"Yes way," Volpe answered. He grabbed one of Bruce's elbows faster than the doctor expected, but he wasn't concerned. Instead of the palm of his hand, Volpe scribbled onto the soft flesh just an inch up from his wrist. Bruce groaned but didn't pull away, and Volpe's grin just grew.

"There. Call me," Volpe announced, twisting Bruce's arm back the way he 'found' it. Bruce couldn't help his disbelief.

"That's it?"

"That's it!"

"Huh," Bruce answered. Volpe was grinning again, obviously proud with himself. "Alright."

"Good. Ciao!" Volpe turned on his heel and headed for the door. Bruce struggled with a reason to keep him around.

"Ah, do you want my number?" He called. Volpe paused just as the door opened.

"Nah, I'm sure I'll get it," he teased, winking, and stepped through the doorway. Bruce struggled for a moment, torn between hurrying after him and staying put. Finally he gave in and rushed to the hallway.

Volpe was already gone from sight, and, presumably, the Tower. Bruce had little doubt in the man's abilities. If he could get out undetected with hundreds of people in the same room, he could disappear in an empty hallway.

Bruce rotated his wrist, staring down at the slippery characters of Volpe's number. The first few were dim, and with slight elbow grease, Bruce was certain the numbers could be easily removed. He pulled out his mobile and programmed them in before heading to the sink. Loki would know immediately, and he rather didn't want to be under the god's intense scrutiny.

Later, when Loki brought Tony directly to him, he felt guilty. He knew, logically, that if Loki couldn't protect Tony then Hulk sure as hell couldn't, but he still felt that if he had gone things may have been different. They patched Tony up together in companionable silence. Loki never asked about Volpe and Bruce never offered.

Bruce was sitting at his desk staring at the new addition to his contacts, willing himself to reach out. He had never been good at it, and someone as enigmatic as Volpe didn't help matters. The courage was just surfacing when JARVIS called his attention to the elevator, announcing the arrival of a very exhausted Loki Laufeyson carrying a too pale and still Tony Stark. When Bruce's eyes dropped to the dimming reactor, his phone was all but forgotten.

Tony and Loki had brought Volpe into his life, however misdirected things began. He sure as hell hoped that the universe wasn't against him as he pressed a defibrillator to his best friend's chest. Bruce knew he had room in his life for more than one important person. He held his breath as the machine coursed its electricity, making Tony jump. Time slowed as Bruce looked up at Loki, the god's eyes locked on Tony's chest with a desperation that shook Bruce to his core.

Sure, he had room for more than one important person, but Loki only had one.

This isn't fair.

A/N: So, keep your hate mail lol. You all know I love my cliff hangers. Let me know what you thought! :)