Avengers Noir Chapter 1

By Cadet Deming

In the spirit of the Marvel Noir comic series, an alternate universe version of the Avengers characters set in 1949 New York. They have the same personalities, but no powers. Rated T for violence and adult content. I don't own the rights to the Avengers, Marvel and Disney do, so please don't sue. Mystery/Suspense/Noir

New York City, 1949

My real name is Natasha Romanoff, but everyone calls me the Black Widow even though I'm a redhead. The War left too many widows behind. They told us girls to get married, have babies, live happily ever after, and depend on our husbands to take care of us. My husband was killed on the beach at Normandy, so I had to learn to depend on myself.

I was lucky enough to find work as an assistant to a private eye named Clint Barton. It's been paying my bills for the past year. A little camera work to catch a cheating husband here, a runaway case there. Nothing too exciting, until the day he walked in and changed everything for me.

The bells on the office door chimed with metallic anticipation. A tall man entered.

"Clint Barton? I'm Loki Odinson, here for my two o'clock appointment about the murder."

His accent was upper-crust English, something I wasn't used to hearing on the immigrant melting pot streets of the City.

"Have a seat," Clint gestured. "My girl Natasha will bring you coffee."

I bit my lip when Clint called me, "My girl." Things were a bit more complicated than that between us.

Loki's gaze swung between Clint and me. I couldn't tell if his eyes were green or blue. There was a definite sharpness in his expression.

Loki said, "I'd prefer tea."

He folded his raincoat over and handed it to me without saying another word, as if I was his servant. I sensed he was used to being waited on without question. Part of me wanted to drop his coat on the floor, but Clint and I both needed a paying client.

The coat was neatly pressed. Its tag revealed it was a tailor made Savile Row raincoat. I expected it to smell like Old Money, but instead it smelled like lilacs.

I tossed it on a hanger and went to the office's tiny kitchenette area. I pulled out some Peking Orange tea from Chinatown and boiled water in a pot, listening to Clint and Loki discuss his pressing issue.

Loki said, "My father Odin was brutally murdered last night. We're trying to keep it out of the papers, but money can't buy everything."

Clint asked, "Are the police investigating?"

"Of course, but that's part of the problem. The Chief Investigator is Steve Rogers."

"Captain America? I know him. He's a war hero, and one of the only guys on the force that isn't dirty."

Loki snickered. "Everyone is dirty, if you look deeply enough."

I wondered what sort of dirt was hiding underneath Loki's pristine, classy surface. The water had finished boiling and I placed a tea bag in it. Tea looked so much like mud and dirt, staining clear water with its blackness.

Clint said, "Do you think Steve Rogers had something to do with your father's murder?"

Loki laughed. "Good heavens, no. The problem is Rogers is friends with my older brother Thor. They're comrades in arms and served in a platoon together in World War 2. I'm concerned about…objectivity."

I walked back in the room silently. It was a trick I'd picked up over the years. I just change the angle of my feet and become as silent as a cat. Or a spider.

Clint said, "You're afraid the police will consider you a suspect. Maybe you want a lawyer instead."

"I have a rock solid alibi. I was at home with my wife Sigyn and our three children. Besides, I'm the second born son. I'm not in a position to inherit his fortune. Thor is."

Clint said, "Who do you think really killed your father?"

"Well if I bloody knew that I wouldn't need to hire the likes of you, would I? He had a million enemies and business rivals: Tony Stark, Laufey the Icelander, Thanos the Greek."

I leaned next to Loki's shoulder and placed the drink on Clint's desk. Loki jumped in his seat. I was surprised he could move so quickly.

"Sorry," I said with mock innocence.

Loki stared at me for a moment and then at the cup. He sniffed it as if he was checking for poison, took one sip and set it back on the desk.

Clint asked, "What do you want me to do exactly?"

"Get in places the police won't, consider suspects the detectives are treating with too much courtesy, and clear my name."

Clint asked, "How much are you offering?"

Loki wrote a number on a card and handed it to Clint.

I peeked at it and said, "I think you need to add another zero."

Loki said to Clint, "I think your secretary needs to learn her place."

"I'm not his secretary. I'm his assistant. For a job with the level of danger you're asking us to get into, I believe we need hazard pay. Tony Stark has more money than Rockefeller, Laufey is still suspected of 3 previous gangland-style murders, and I haven't heard much about Thanos, but the Greek Mafia is bad news. If you're afraid…"

Loki interjected, "I'm not afraid. I'm just…concerned."

I softened my voice and touched his shoulder. "There's no shame in being afraid of a murderer, or a police investigation. We can help you, but pay us what we're worth on this."

The room was silent except for the hum of the radiator and ticking of a clock. Clint flashed me a look that silently stated, "You better not have screwed this up."

After what felt like an eternity, Loki said, "Very well then. I'll throw in 50% more to retain you, and another 50% bonus if you solve the crime before the police do. "

Clint held out his hand, "We have a deal."

Loki shook it and said, "Thank you. Will Ms. Natasha escort me out?"

He sounded more like he was ordering than asking me, but I gathered his belongings and walked with him to the elevator. After the elevator door closed, I felt slightly uneasy. I wasn't quite sure what to make of him. Hell, I didn't even know for a fact that he didn't kill his own father.

Loki said, "You're not what I expected you to be."

"How so?"

"You're feisty. And very intelligent…for a woman."

"Thank you, I think."

He asked, "Are you married?"

I held my hands up, showing him my ring less fingers. "War widowed."

"I'm sorry. You seem far too pretty to be single."

He moved a fraction closer to me. I watched the arrow on the elevator move from the fifth to the fourth floor.

I said, "Pretty doesn't do much if all of the good men are killed on the battlefield or married."

I couldn't help but stare at the wedding band on his finger.

He smiled and his eyes crinkled up. His irises were definitely blue, a brilliant blue. It made him look older and more world-weary.

"Maybe what you really need is a bad man." He said mischievously. "It's been a pleasure meeting you. I look forward to…doing business with you and Mr. Barton."

To be continued.