58

“Get ready to jump,” you tell them (they’ll be fine; it’s not like you’ve never leapt off buildings before), and you take up a position at the back of the truck bed and count them in, “Three, two one...”

All three of you leap at once when you fling open the canvas flaps, tucking in mid-air, and Bruce’s crooked vault into empty space has him on a collision course with you, so you just grab him out of the air and tuck around him, rolling protectively with him as you slam into the ground, shoulder-first.

            Damn. That’s going to be a few weeks of enforced rehab when you get back.

“Thanks,” Bruce says softly, offering you a hand up. You accept the hand, but wave off the gratitude.

“Not like the shoe hasn’t been on the other food enough times,” you say, which is definitely true. The Hulk has pulled you out of a free-fall a dozen times if he has done it once, but you’re not about to offer to tuck and roll around him.