We Need to Quit Meeting like This

AN: I have to rewrite the next chapter of Iron and Alabaster. I had quite a few pages written out on some pieces of notebook paper, but I lost them. Still trying to find those pages. It's looking more and more like they're just gone so I have to start from scratch again. Sorry for the delay!

Also, if you didn't know, I've completely planned out my Clint Barton story.

Back to this booklet, though:

Thanks to Miko Hayashi, Elisablackcat, and Maymayliu for reviewing.

This is a follow up to "Talk Dirty to Me (Part I)"

I originally wanted Bruce and Cori to have three illustrated phone calls, but I knew that would be much too much for one oneshot. That, and it was eating into my tai chi/pilates/yoga time. So, sorry guys! This is what you get! I hope you enjoy!

Not as smutty as I would've liked, but this is what I could manage without it turning into a goliath of a read.

Lots of line breaks/bouncing around in this one. You've been warned.

Talk Dirty to Me (Part II)

Don't think about it. Don't make that face. It's JUST work. Cori told herself, brushing her hair out in a vanity mirror. She nervously stroked her loose waves, frowning. She'd been practicing her neutral face for nearly an hour. Tony was quick to pick up on people's moods, as he was something of an entertainer and acting as her Manhattan guardian. Coriander felt that she would absolutely die if Tony really found out where she was going.

What she was doing.

She hadn't completely lied to him, though, so she felt safe. The job did involve interacting with customers over the phone, and sales and money was involved.

…just not the part where she pedaled stupid products.

The only thing she was pedaling was herself. Her voice, to be correct. She and Carmen were having coffee in her previous place of employment, unknowingly sitting next to a voice scout of sorts. Carmen began flirting with the barista for a free mocachino, and Cori was chastising her. Cori honestly and thoughtlessly replied sarcastically but bluntly and vaguely when Carmen asked, "What are you gonna do about it?"

Next thing she knew, the man was turning around to offer them both a position. Carmen ended up declining, but when Cori heard the workers could be paid up to two thousand dollars a week, she bit.

What was the harm?

She was technically unemployed, anyways. And she didn't particularly feel like mooching off of Tony (even though he offered). Aside from that, she was twenty-six. It felt abnormal not to have a job and sense of financial independence. The man hurriedly and repeatedly assured she would NOT be obligated to meet these men; according to him, it was rarely requested.

If it ever happened, there was a strict policy about arrival calls. His company readily supplied miniature cans of mace.

It seemed easy enough. What were the odds that someone would keep calling her back, anyways?

Cori honestly didn't care. She was just using the job as a source of income. And a source of knowledge. Bruce was probably hopelessly and annoyingly ignorant to how turned on she'd been by his mouthy watch. The young woman was first enthralled by the kind, endlessly intelligent man who offered his services as the team doctor.

As their time together grew, and she learned about his alter ego, her love branched into two directions: first awe, then admiration. She wanted that man as her lover. There was so much – too much – about him that appealed to her.

There were simply too many good qualities in him for him to be single.

The watch definitely changed that.

But Cori was nervous now. Banner clearly didn't regret anything, but what if he found out? What if he realized that his unusual and blatant statements, his struts of unquestioned power and the seldom but delicious dominance made her fold at light speed?

Someone like Banner would enjoy that, even if he didn't say it. Those actions were nothing more than calculating someone's personality and playing to their desires. Their weaknesses. He would gulp it – and her – down like tea.

Maybe even sip lazily and indulge until she went absolutely mad with want. Maybe adopt one of his many aliases and let her taste something new while she simmered in his heated, wanton ways.

Though steamy, though enjoyable to consider, Cori refused to let him have total control. These phone calls – she hoped – would help her develop personas and tricks of her own.

Time to find out, she thought, setting the brush down.

"You want me to what?" Bruce pushed his glasses up on his nose.

"Talk dirty." replied Fury, unblinking and unflinching. "Mr. Stark informs me that you and Ms. Henson were quite energetic. If you're in the mood to do that, you're in the mood to familiarize yourself with seduction."

"But I don't want—"

"Think logically, Doctor Banner." advised Fury. "Despite however you may see your love life, your known abilities, mannerisms, and looks rank high in the preferences of women. We may need to use you to extract information."

"Use Tony," Bruce brushed him off with a smooth turn of his shoulders and quiet voice. "He and I are twins. Just ask Pepper."

"Mr. Stark is far more noticeable than you. I need you to do this."

"I don't want to."

"You don't have that choice, Doctor."

Aggravated, Bruce put down his tools. There would be no coffee for Pepper this afternoon when she got off work. Unfortunately, there was no recognizable flutter of trapped rage beneath his skin. Cori had done well to burn that up mere days ago. Hulk was still recovering from the blissful viciousness.

Frankly, it was hard for anyone to be pissed after that. Except him. He was pissed when they were silently declared 'finished'. Banner would be lying if he said he didn't want more. The idea of Cori rolling around in the sheets with him was almost enough to cancel out Fury's quiet insistency.

He felt soothed for a brief second. Then achingly horny as he remembered what she felt like pressed against him. Bowing into him. Dripping and clenching around him.

Bruce stifled a groan.

"Well," he managed, "despite what you think, women don't approach me."

"You needn't approach someone to practice this skill. Not in this day and age." Fury handed him a small, old flip phone.

"Will you be monitoring me?" Bruce queried immediately, none too trusting of SHIELD since they lied WHILE he was on the helicarrier.

"No. That's not our business. This is strictly yours, and yours alone. I was simply aware that you didn't have a phone."

Bruce was much too shy to ask Tony for one. Truth be told, he'd learned how to live without them. Considering how well-meaningly mischievous his friend was, Bruce thought it was best he receive a phone from Fury. "So…" Bruce wiggled the flappable part like a loose tooth, "what now?"

"Pick your poison, Doctor. And your location, too."

There was no way in hell he'd stay in the tower. Not with JARVIS. Not when Tony programmed him to pick up on certain words. "I see."

"I'll give you one week to find your footing. You'll get an additional week to progress. I expect progress, Doctor. Good progress. I want you to be a Casanova by the end of the month, understand?"

"I'm not someone who can guarantee good progress. Do you know how long it's been since I've so much as touched a woman?"

"About three days?"

"I mean beyond impulsiveness."

"Nope, and I don't want to. It's time to shake off the dust. Get talking."

Bruce scoffed, disguising it as a growl-hum at the tiny bolts he corralled into a neat line beside the coffee maker. The phone had been stuffed into his side pocket. It sat there quietly but heavily minutes after Fury left him alone.

Fury doesn't leave things like this alone, he admitted to himself, I'd better get started. Bruce bagged the disassembled pieces and told Tony he was going for a Fury-mandated walk. There would be no smartass-ness from him with that explanation. A smooth exit from Stark Tower – instead of worrying about Tony and his speculations – would help him keep an eye out for any advertisements.

Bruce didn't have a clue about who to call. About which line would be the best. Manhattan was the home of several modeling agencies, and one of the bolder places he'd lived in. There was no doubt in his mind that he'd find an advertisement during his quest for isolation.

Midway to a hotel – which he insisted on having if Fury really wanted him to do this – Bruce saw it: a gigantic white billboard with the silhouette of a wavy-haired woman touching a finger delicately to her plump lips. The image lacked details, as it was black, but Bruce could tell the woman had several procedures done. Real faces simply didn't look like that. Beside her lips and finger was "Sweet Nothings" scrawled crookedly in cursive.

It was a telephone chat line promising men all the sweet things they'd want to hear, and more.

I'll bite, Bruce thought, typing the number in his phone as he pressed TALK. He let it ring once and hung up. The real call would happen after he'd locked himself in a safe room. Being technically employed by Stark Solutions allowed him to pay for a room on the third floor.

Bruce didn't care as much about the number as he did the safety. Did it have windows? A balcony? Could he easily escape if someone happened to listen in or interrupt this delicate and mortifying mission? Hush, his mind demanded, you're safe.

Yeah! Teenage Bruce jumped up with his usual teenage enthusiasm, Now let's call the kinky line!

I can't do this…Bruce frowned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

I'll handle this, Bruce, Teenage Bruce assured with the cockiness of youth and invincibility. Bruce's fingers revisited the call log and mashed TALK on the most recent number. Teenage Bruce guided Bruce's phone-holding arm to his ear.

"Hi, thank you for calling Sweet Nothings! My name's Coco. Will you let me be sweet to you today?"

"Coco powder is actually very bitter."

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! Cori began to panic. Okay, not the best opener. Weren't customers supposed to be overly horny, desperate, or eager from some verbal quickie? She hadn't expected one of them to put holes in her so quickly.

Admittedly, she'd lost her shaky footing. Being a complete stranger to the other person on the line hadn't helped her become a shamelessly confident sexpot like she imagined it would. No, Cori was terrified.

"S-sorry. I'm, uh, not very good at these things."

Cori wanted to laugh with relief. She wasn't, either. But she wouldn't dare say that. The people who called these lines expected sex kittens who could purr, coo, and keep them interested. "That's alright," Cori assured calmly, "tell me about yourself. What's your name? What do you do?"

That would give her a jumping point, right?

"M-My name? My name? Uh…B-B-BO-OB Danner. Bob Danner."

"Hello, Mr. Danner." Cori tried in her deepest and raspiest voice. She was a bit put off by his stuttering and fumbling, but thought little of it. This guy was clearly as nervous as her. He was probably making all efforts to conceal himself. "What is it you do, Mr. Danner?"

"I-I, uh…I-I teach sci-science."

Hey, Bruce teaches science! her mind made the connection, and DANNER is pretty close to BANNER. I wonder if…no, Bruce wouldn't do that! Would he? I wonder…

The guy was stuttering too much for her to scrutinize his voice. If his voice steadied out Cori imagined she could pin him in a heartbeat. Maybe. She'd never heard him speak ALL the languages he'd picked up while on the run. Cori betted Bruce could throw a few accents.

She crossed her legs as her sex began to throb.

Mmm…Bruce. Bruce speaking different languages. Bruce speaking different languages half-naked in my bed. Completely naked, actually. Yeah, that's better.

Her mind was running wild again. She refrained from gasping into the line and keening like Bruce really had her on the edge. The mere thought of him did. It was good she wasn't around the real Bruce right now. She'd be an absolute mess!

"A-Are you there?"

"Of course, Mr. Danner." Cori refocused, blushing. His meekness was refreshing and distracting from the remnants of the dark Bruce she'd seen days ago in bed. The starved, dark man brimming with sexual tension had left her with quite an appetite. If she played her cards right, she'd be eating again soon.

She just needed snacks to prep her for the challenging feast ahead.

Cori began handling the call as a training exercise. As a chance to discern male behavioral patterns and test out responses. The embarrassment of it all faded quickly after that. Coriander found herself able to jump in wholeheartedly when she pictured these faceless men as stepping stones to Bruce.

When she imagined herself to be the huntress chasing after the delectable morsel that was Bruce Banner. He'd pinned her and cornered her last time. This time, it was his turn.

"What level do you teach, Mr. Danner?"

"I'm qualified to teach college level. I'm a fairly important fixture in the community, if I do say so myself."

Bruce was, too. Had she gotten one of his perverted colleagues? Too bad she couldn't tell him about it when she got home. He'd question her to death (if he didn't lecture her to death, that is).

"Oh, okay!" the cogs began turning in Cori's head. "So…" she traced circles on the desk of the call station with a finger, "maybe I can visit you for some extra credit."

"F-For some ex-extra cr-credit?"

"Yeah." Cori shrugged. "You know, extra credit. Bonus points? Maybe I'm making up for a terrible grade that you'd have to punish me for."

"I-I don't really like that word."

"What, punish?"

"Yes. My father, he was…very abusive."

Oh shit. She'd unintentionally opened up a big, emotional can of worms. Please don't leave, please don't leave, please don't leave! Cori panicked. Sending one of her clients – her first client – into some kind of regression or melt down would not look good.

"Or, or," she was quick to change the mood, "I could've come to you for help. It'd be sweet. You'd help me out, stand close, maybe hold my hand as I wrote out equations."

"I like that one better." she could almost hear him smile. Her heart fluttered at the admittance. He seemed like a sweetheart.

"I do, too." Cori admitted. She wasn't usually a 'hard and fast' type of lover. Hell, before Bruce she hadn't even been a lover. Slow and sweet complimented her personality better. It did well for Bruce, too.

Cori felt the heat pool in her cheeks again as she imagined Bruce leaning over her, Bruce's hand guiding her across a particularly demanding piece of science homework. The smell of Bruce as he leaned down – totally oblivious to his charms or musk – to analyze her work and explain the errors in her previous statements.

"And then what?"

"And then what, what?"

"What would you do after I helped you?"

"What would you want me to do?"

"…what do you look like?"

"I-I…what?"

"What I'd do to you depends on what you look like. I have a type. Well…I do now. I didn't used to. Never mind.

"What do you look like, student of mine?"

This guy was never going to see her again, she reasoned. And, generic answers like 'green eyes' and 'black hair' could belong to anyone in Manhattan. Cori told him vague things about herself, like the color of her eyes and the pigment of her skin. Her caller gave a pensive but intrigued hum.

"I wouldn't give you the option to hug me," he responded honestly but gently. His kind tone would've kept her from freaking out in the real situation. "No," the man seemed to falsely lament. A growing smirk or budding confidence could be heard as his voice gradually lowered and adopted a silky, lazy quality, "I'd take your paper, grade it, call you over, and then pin you between myself and the desk."

Oh god his voice! Cori bit her lip as her heart began to thunder. Bruce would be perfect like that. Unassumingly strong and deceptively sweet but all powerful. The only thing stopping him from being a charming animal in bed was his morals and the Hulk.

Hulk hadn't seemed to mind, Cori recalled, but Bruce was quick to swear that he didn't operate like that on a regular basis and had merely caved to two decades' worth of desires and pent up impulsiveness.

"I think I'd like that as long as you were gentle."

"It's not in me to hurt people. Not after what I went through as a child. Women should be treated delicately. I'd handle you carefully, like porcelain. It would probably annoy you, actually."

"Only if you were a tease." Cori tried not to laugh.

Mr. Danner laughed. "I might be. Women are few and far between for me because of work. If I had a pretty little thing like you nearby, well, I'd have to tease you." his tease came out in something of a purr that had Cori buzzing. She wanted to throw the headset down, run home, and jump on Bruce.

I'm going to, she swore, unwilling to give her beloved scientist an option. Her fingers tightened lightly around the headset. How many hours was her shift, again? Coriander licked her lips in anticipation of lunging at the unsuspecting scientist and dragging him away from his experiments as they stumbled down the hallway in a series of sloppy kisses.

"How would you tease me?" Cori asked.

If Bruce voiced any objections, well, she'd show him she was ready. Between The Other Guy's senses and the sight of her, well, Cori thought she'd win that one.

And this man was going to help her.

How wrong was that? Probably a lot, but Cori was excited by it. Very excited. It was like getting the thrill without the risk and all the perks.

"Slow and deliberately." replied the man without hesitation. The forwardness and bluntness of his growl had Cori shivering. He had a powerful voice, and an unashamed way with words. "And inquisitively, of course, as I am a scientist. I'd have to figure out where your spots were. Every woman's different."

"We are. We have to keep you guys guessing, right?"

He laughed. "So…where are yours?"

"That's classified, Dr. Danner."

"How bittersweet." he purred in a falsely wounded manner. "No matter. I like challenges. And I'm quite thorough. Looks like you'll be getting to your dorm late, Miss Coco."

"Tis the consequence of a good education." Coriander bemoaned.

"Not a consequence," he whispered, "a benefit. Just for me. But I'd make sure you'd enjoy it, too."

"Oh yeah? How so?"

Mr. Danner spent a good two hours making Cori squirm in her seat. From his attention to detail and the terms he used to describe various parts of her anatomy, she assumed he was something of a reproductive education teacher. Either that, or a gynecologist. The heated panting accented his descriptiveness well. His diction and the specific way he stated things, the way he organized his orgasmic exploration of her hypothetical college body, seemed straight out of a romance novel.

He was either a sexual deviant, or sexually repressed with only fantasies to keep him company, Cori decided. There was no other explanation for his detailed imagination and the way they collapsed in a tangle of limbs in various spots of his college classroom. She was pretty sure he'd referenced the Kama Sutra once or twice. Her mind was blown with the lurid details and extensiveness of his sexual appetite.

"And, once we were finally finished – and, you know, once we put the mannequin back together, changed the bag in the trash can, and found the screw for the desk – I'd tell you that you had the answers right all along. You'd probably be mad as hell, but, honestly, I could care less. I wouldn't regret a moment of that."

Cori finally found her breath. Her panties were drenched and she'd bitten on her nails the entire time, but she'd made it. The man had wanted nothing more than honest sounds from her, and he'd gotten them. He seemed happy enough living in his own story (so long as she breathed life into it. Literally.)

"Honey," she breathed, "if someone's mad at you after that, well…they just need to wear a habit and become a nun!"

He laughed. "I have to go but…thank you, Coco. This turned out to be…rather sweet."

"You're welcome, Mr. Danner. Have a nice day."

"I will now. Goodbye Coco."

"Goodbye, Mr. Danner."

Bruce held the closed phone to his lips thoughtfully. His sweaty hands were the last thing on his mind. "That was Cori." he whispered against the phone, still buzzing with the thrill of vocal smut. He'd just had phone sex with Cori.

She hadn't openly stated her name – Coco was anonymous, but not to someone who knew her as he did – but Bruce knew her voice. It was the same one she used when people woke her up too early. It was the same one she used when one her period and doing the monthly warpath through the house. It was the same one she used when being short with annoying people

And she'd used it on him.

And it was attractive.

Banner nearly lost it when she suggested being his student. It was too soon into the conversation for him to lose it, so he willed himself not to, but god the images that assaulted him! The idea that it could be her wrapped around his waist, her pressed up against his desk, her smearing his notes on the board, and her giving him a show just over the trashcan to avoid detection via fluid had spurred him like nothing else.

He was sweaty from mere conversation. Well…he always sweated a bit when she talked to him, but this was different. This was an all-consuming heat and a painful sweat created from wrestling himself. It took everything in him to command control of the conversation. Bruce had wanted to pause several times just to handle his aching, weeping length.

But he didn't. He didn't dare. Cori never spoke to him like this, and was probably too shy to do so when they were alone. As long as Fury was paying for it, why not keep her going as long as he could?

She'd been able to hold out longer than him, Bruce admitted. Bruce licked his lips, thinking back to the noises she'd made. Those were the same noises he'd heard mere days ago. They'd sent Hulk bouncing around his mind as he tried to figure out where they came from when considering Cori's absence. He couldn't give Hulk Cori, but he could give them a much-needed release.

Banner let his underwear soak in soapy water while he showered. He dried his curls and underwear after stepping out, clean and fresh. Bruce felt irritated and disgusted that he'd had to use his hands. Months ago, when in India and completely unaffected by the person known as Coriander Henson, that would've sufficed.

But now? Now that was just paltry and pitiful. He needed the real thing.

HULK WANT, TOO!

We'll get. assured Banner, buttoning up his shirt.

Bruce escaped to the lab with minimal questioning. Tony was the first and only one to point out that his Fury-mandated walk had lasted quite a while. Banner simply explained that Fury requested he tune up a few things and left it at that. Stark didn't totally want to drop the subject, but the curtness in which Banner explained himself said he should.

He assumed Bruce had walked elsewhere – maybe even out of the city – to demolish something. It made no sense, as he had a Smash Room here, but he could imagine The Other Guy simply wanted a change of scenery.

Tony didn't question Bruce. His arm and neck hair was standing up on end. Bruce happily and serenely tinkered away at Pepper's beloved and previously abandoned coffee pot. But, much like the monster looming beneath the surface, there was something different about Banner. He exuded confidence and something that screamed alpha male.

That something also had Tony politely muted.

Banner looked pleasant but stewing in something dark. Something that gave Banner such pleasure, he'd venture. Bruce looked like he had the world's best poker hand and the unshakeable confidence that rendered a poker face unnecessary. In short, he looked like a lion who had found and claimed a good kill.

He was merely basking in the aftermath of his victory, whatever it may be.

Stark's curiosities were quieted when Cori stormed through the lab. She snatched Bruce away from the screwdriver and almost-functional coffee pot by his collar. Tony watched her crush her mouth to Bruce's, stifling his objections and knee-jerk reaction to lecture about safety in the lab. The hair on his arms and neck rose again.

They dripped with dark passion. Tony turned his head down to give them privacy as Bruce's nostrils flared and his skin shimmied. The electricity between them seemed more than lusty and palpable; it might as well have been static, too. Bruce was flush against Cori, stumbling after her as she backed out of the lab like the dissipation of an exhausted level five hurricane.

Still recovering from his daze, Bruce rolled over to face Cori. She was contentedly snuggling into the pillows on his bed. "Bad day at work?" Bruce wondered, wincing as his muscles flexed and caused the scratch marks on his back and shoulders to burn. His lioness continued to lounge, stretching out with a grunt before lazily cracking open one eye.

"Not necessarily. You've just kind of opened the floodgate for me." Cori smiled sleepily, snuggling into his stomach and chest once again.

"Now you know how I feel." Bruce chuckled.

Cori raised her head slightly. That sounded like Mr. Danner's laugh.

"But I think you drowned me this time." Bruce smiled into her dark hair, kissing her forehead.

"Now you know how I felt about you and that watch." Cori chuckled.

"I didn't regret a moment of that, honestly." Bruce rolled onto his back like Cori and grinned at the ceiling.

Cori looked to him subtly again. Mr. Danner had said something similar to that. He could be Bruce, she thought. The realization both mortified and thrilled her.

On the one hand, it was Bruce. On the other hand, it was Bruce and he hadn't needed the watch to speak like that. It was Bruce being sly and sexy without reservation!

It was sexy.

"And I didn't regret a moment of that, but I have to go to sleep. I have work tomorrow."

"I'd prefer you to stay in here." Bruce mumbled into her shoulder, arm sliding protectively and somewhat firmly around her waist. He was still coasting off the romp and knew he'd want to bask in the feel of her pliant body when his hormones died. That was Little Bruce coming through, forever the cuddler.

"Oh I wasn't leaving." Cori told him with a giggle, snuggling her head into the pillow.

"Good. Mr. Danner's pretty happy with that." Bruce couldn't resist letting his secret escape. While it would be fun to cycle through more of his aliases and embark on several more adventures with her, his nerves couldn't take it. Especially if she came home from work every day that hungry and adamant and ruthless.

Cori rolled over with a shocking quickness that had him worrying about her spine. "I knew it!" she cried, leaping upon his chest like she'd done earlier. Unlike last time, despite the fact that her palms and nails were staked into his shoulders, Bruce didn't let her stupefy him into submission. "I knew it was you!"

"So did I." Bruce's smirked dimmed to a soft grin as his eyes trailed up the semi-taut lines of her toned stomach and the soft buds of flesh he'd spent ten minutes on. His cock stiffened and ached at the memory of her around him as she sat tauntingly close to his shaft. "I think this dirty talk thing works well for us." he mused, rubbing circles on her hips as she stooped to plant her elbows at either side of his head and prop herself up.

"I think so, too." she smiled, kissing the tip of his nose.