AN: Moi moi, dear readers. Peruna here. So this is another really random, rather stupid and/or trivial One Shot. It's about an OC-Insert into the MCU that decided to just kick back and stay out of the action running into one of the Avengers. Yeah, I dunno, it's probably boring, but I wanted to write something and this just kinda happened. Anyway, enjoy reading! Or don't. Like I said, this probably isn't super interesting...

I do not have any rights to the characters of the Hulk, Tony Stark or any other elements of the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

It is an ordinary day, really, the sun is shining, coming in and out of cloud cover, with the somewhat chilly early spring air moved by occasional gusts. Life is treating me good, has been ever since I can remember and even though it might be unfair that someone as priviliged as I was reborn into an even more priviliged environment, it's not like I will complain about that at all. Not that I had a choice either way, not like I could have given my spot to some other recently deceased soul that deserved some happiness more than I. And, it might be treating this gift of a second life poorly, but I generally just coast by on my family's good fortune and a little cheating by using my flaky knowledge of the future to buy and sell stock market shares at opportune moments.

Like investing into Stark Industries when the price had dipped for a day due to yet another of Tony Stark's public blunders and then selling the shares when the interest was way up after that successful weapons demonstration for the Jericho missiles. Then waiting the three months for the man to resurface again and crash his company by announcing it wouldn't manufacture weapons anymore. That was a good day for me, all those people who tried to get rid of their shares like they were hot potatoes probably regretted that not shortly after, but I'm set with a neat little quarterly dividend payout that allows me to keep living on my parents' farm instead of seeking for a better paying job in the city.

But that is about as much involvement as I ever want to have with the avengers or any other supers or aliens or villains. I have absolutely no desire to live an exciting life. In my last one, I was most definitely the first to jump into extreme sports or do ridiculously dangerous dares with my friends and, I'm not going to lie, I know the appeal of a good adrenaline rush. But if you have spent your last months of life in agony, paralyzed from the shoulders down and slowly dying because you broke your neck in a stupid stunt gone wrong, then you learn to appreciate the more menial aspects of life. Which is why, even though I have been reincarnated into the MCU and there are amazing wonders of technology and sometimes even magic to behold, I stay here on the farm, spending my days looking after the cattle and horses and other animals. Breeding dogs is my pet project, if you will excuse the pun, and that's about the most exciting thing I ever do.

However, in a world so stock full of supernatural ... everythings, a world created by interconnected comic book series that had been expanded upon for nearly a century, there is precious little hance to never run across anything out of the ordinary. For the three decades I've been living here, I had the luck to never be pulled into any convoluted plots or meeting any extra-terrestrial beings and my neighbourhood has never once been trashed by a mutant or enhanced or evil robot. Now, it seems, that my time has come, though, to meet one of the Avengers. At least, that's how I interpret the giant green monster that is currently tearing through our barn before continuing to run, thankfully, away from the house. I really wouldn't want to have the Hulk destroy everything my family and I owns.

That said, it is heading right towards the rural town a few miles east of the farm and I kinda don't want the poor townspeople and the sheriff with his deputy to have to deal with the indestructible green menace alone. Especially because they will have no idea how to deal with it. Probably. The media coverage on Earth's Mightiest Heroes is pretty thorough, but there is no way that anybody would allow them to broadcast any of the Avengers' weaknesses. So even though many everyday citizens that have done even the tiniest amount of research will know that the Hulk becomes the Hulk when he's angry, few would come to the conclusion that calming him down is the only effective counter-measure against it. And then there is the question of how anybody could calm a giant green anger-management issue, even if they knew that they should.

I have a pretty good idea though, so I sigh inwardly and hurry to get my padded leathers on, grabbing a sturdy wooden box and packing what I need before heading out and strapping it to my dirt bike. It's rather awkward, but I manage and kick start the machine before tearing down the road in the direction of the town.

Of course the giant green muscle beast is faster than me, but at some point it had crossed the road, veering off the general path I had estimated for it to take. Uncertain, I stand on the road and look down the path of destruction that leads from the field on my left to the field on my right, the broken fence and the deep foot prints in the soil. Then I shake the doubt away and follow the trail off the road, my bike hopping along the uneven ground. Even if the Hulk isn't on direct path towards the town anymore, it could still cause some severe damage to people that I know and like and I should at least see where it's going to avoid having a guilty conscious later on.

It turns out to be a good decision though, when I tear into one of our neighbour's property. There is screaming coming from the house, the shed already collapsed and the neighbour and her brother making a stand with their rifle and shotgun respectively. And then there's the Hulk, roaring and charging towards them.

Holy bejeesus, this isn't good.

Adrenaline floods my body, my heart beat picking up as I head directly towards the confrontation between the gun-wielding humans and the bare-chasted green monster. It is a good feeling, well-known, even if it gives me the jitters since I'm not used to it anymore. I feel like a dry alcoholic taking shots of whiskey. Good and bad at once.

"HEEEY!", I yell as loud as I can, before braking harshly, throwing up dust and a wave of dirt and pebbles towards the charging Hulk. That gets its attention, though I really don't know whether or not that's a good thing. It momentarily stops its charge and settles its heavy, angry gaze on me. Immediately I start sweating unde rmy helmet, but nevertheless, I turn to my neighbours and wave at them. "Run! Don't shoot! Run!"

With no idea whether or not they would listen, I grab my box, cutting through the bungees and ropes I secured it with to save the precious seconds before the Hulk decides to beat me into a mushy pulp. I can't hear anything over the pounding of my heart, but when I look up next, I'm alone with the green monster that's flexing its more than impressive muscles. Then it roars at me and starts advancing.

"Woah, hey, woah, hey, woah!", I call nervously, throwing up a hand as if to stall the beats but it doesn't do much. Blindly I fumble the lid off the box with my other hand, unable to tear my gaze away from my imminent doom.

Soft whining and yipping comes from the now, thankfully, open box. The Hulk stops, looking confused and I use the opportunity to reach into the padded box and grab two fluffy puppies, holding them to my chest. There is a third one in the box.

Now the giant green monster looks rather befuddled, not all that angry anymore and all I can do is pray to the heavens that it will continue to not attack me as I slowly step away from the box and my toppled bike and towards it. Once I'm only about two metres away and, horribly, terrifyingly withing reach of the Hulk, I set the young dogs down. They are both around two months old, so they will be fine for a little while, given they wont get smushed, which I really hope they wont. With a heavy gulp, I back away slowly, picking my way back towards the box and clutching the last puppy to my chest to hopefully calm myself down as well as the big guy.

Why on earth would I bring baby canines to a rampaging destroyer beast, you ask? Even if it hadn't been shown in the MCU by the time I died in my first life, it was a known strategy of S.H.I.E.L.D. in the comics to calm down the Hulk with cute dogs. And even if I had never even touched an issue of any Hulk comic, it was a fun fact that I came across at some point and remembered for the sheer comedic value of a Hulk surrounded by puppies.

Now I get to see first hand, how the green monster squats down and curiously reaches towards one of the fluffy furballs. Both puppies, being curious and generally hard to scare away, stumble towards the giant nipping at its fingers playfully and wagging their butts in the air, the little tails whipping back and forth in a way that would melt even a rock's heart. And, miraculoiusly, it seems that they have the same adorable effect on the Hulk as they do to me because its face breaks into a wide grin and it starts shrinking, chuckeling and petting the baby animals all the while.

"Oh, thank the Lord!" I let out and sink to my knees in relief, finding it hard to breathe and ripping off my helmet to suck in sweet, delicious air, utterly overwhelmed by the prospect of surviving the encounter. I spend a few, precious moments simply thanking the heavens, only pulled back into reality when the puppy in my arm squirms around to lick my sweaty chin.

With a breathy chuckle I pet it behind the ears before looking over to see that Bruce Banner was himself again and currently being assaulted by my two other baby dogs. I get up on shaky knees and walk over to the tired and confused looking man in the pair of stretched and ripped pants.

"You need a phone?", I ask him and earn a surprised look from Banner before he replies with a grateful "Yes" and "Thanks" when I pass over my phone. Sitting down heavily next to him, I play with the puppies to distract myself and after Banner made his call, we sort of just wait together for his pick-up. A long while there is just silence. The neighbours seem to have run from the house and possibly to the small forest across the small field. Wherever they are, they don't show their faces, which is probably for the best, considering that I might have been unsuccessfull.

"So", Banner starts after a while, seeming a bit nervous, "Wh-Why are there puppies here?"

I wave one of my shaky hands in a throw-away gesture that probably doesn't look all that genuine. "They, uh, they- I brought them, 'cause I never seen the Hulk smash any dogs. And they calmed him right down."

"Okay", the man says though he eyes the puppies dubiously. Luckily further questions are staved off by the sound of a helicopter closing in on our location. Nervously, I pick up all the baby animals and put them back into their box, keeping back when the helicopter lands on the empty field behind the main house. I wave goodbye when Banner looks over, but make no move to follow him or anything. I have no aspirations at all to make S.H.I.E.L.D.'s or whoever's acquaintance.

Instead I gather all my stuff, putting on my helmet ant the lid on the box before driving home. The way home is much longer. I take it slow and keep to the well-kept roads as I have to hold the box with my three puppies steady between my legs. Maybe cutting my ropes and bungees hadn't been the best idea, but I was very stressed so it's nothing I can really regret. Once I'm back at the farm, I place the puppies back with their mother before taking a long bath and calling it a day. Tomorrow I'll have to do something about the barn, but for now my parents will have to deal with checking up on the fences and whatnot. I'm going to bed.