Black Roses for a Black Widow

A.N. You know the drill, these characters belong to Marvel and/or myth. I just play nicely with them.

Loki, unseen, watched the archer as he moved about his room at the Avengers madhouse. Clint Barton headed for the shower and Loki waited until he heard the sound of water running. Then he quickly removed anything that Agent Barton could use to inflict unwanted bodily harm upon his person, and sat down on the bed. He heard the door opening and showed himself.

Clint Barton walked back into his bedroom and immediately noticed the thin, pale, dark haired menace sitting on it. A quick scan of the immediate area let him know he was seriously screwed. He was in a towel, in a room with Thor's bat shit crazy little brother, with nothing in reach that he could use as a weapon.

"I mean you no harm." Loki held his arms up in a placating manner. "I thought it best that all weapons be removed, for your safety. I would defend myself, you would lose, and it would be a lot of bother."

"I don't like you. I would like to put an arrow through one of your eye sockets."

Loki nodded. "I can understand you have certain issues with me. But may I just note that during the all too brief time you were in my service, you fulfilled your duties admirably. I would be happy to recommend you for future employment or offer myself as a reference."

"No. That won't work for me. I need to do something painful and violent to you."

"Well, that won't work for me, I'm afraid. And this topic of conversation is rapidly becoming a bore." Loki paused for a moment "I am here because I require your assistance."

"Is this another one of your tricks? 'Cause I'm not in the mood."

Loki sighed. "Unfortunately, no. And it would speed things along if you would hold all questions and comments until I have finished." Loki paused for a moment. "During the time I was a guest of S.H.I.E.L.D. on the Helicarrier, I had a conversation with Agent Romanoff. During this conversation I spoke in a manner not befitting a Prince of Asgard. I would like to make amends. You have a history with her, I thought you might have a few suggestions."

"I could help, but I won't. You're a smart guy, you figure it out." Clint began to dress, pointedly ignoring the God of Mischief sitting and scowling on the bed. "Anything else I can say no to?"

"So sorry to disappoint you, but that was all I had." And with that, he was gone. Clint's weapons did not reappear.

"Son of a bitch."

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Hours. It had taken Tony and Bruce hours to reach this point. Beards had grown, deodorant had worn off, too much coffee had been consumed and the remaining pizza crusts had been devoured. At the critical point, there was a sound like a pop, and items began to fall on their heads, and most importantly, on their equipment. A case cracked Tony in the forehead, sending him to the floor. Bruce grabbed a falling quiver. Knives fell and scattered about; fortunately for both scientists, most were sheathed. Bruce helped Tony to his feet. Tony had a shallow gash in his forehead. Their work was shot to hell.

"What the hell was that?"

Bruce shrugged. 'It looks like Clint's stuff."

"What the hell is it doing falling out of nowhere and smashing up my lab equipment?"

"Loki?"

"Son of a bitch."

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Clint was sitting on the sofa when Bruce and Tony walked in, carrying his missing weapons. Tony had a piece of used pizza box pressed to his forehead. Clint got up and went to check on his gear.

"Everything seems ok." Clint breathed a sigh of relief.

"I've got a news flash for you, Legolas. I've got a knot on my forehead, I'm bleeding, and tall, dark and pyschotic just smashed up my lab equipment. You know I don't like people messing with my stuff. So, everything's not ok." Tony sat down. "I'm thinking this is your fault."

"No, it's Loki's fault. But yeah, I kind of pissed him off I guess."

"You don't piss off Thor's little brother, and you don't feed him after midnight. Or is that mogwai? Whatever."

Bruce returned with a bandage and some antiseptic and took care of a whining Tony. Clint gathered his weapons and took them back to his room.

"I'm telling your Dad, Loki!" Tony shouted to the mostly empty room.

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A peeved God of Mischief sat in a nearby Starbucks, sipping his chai tea latte and picking irritably at a lemon poppyseed muffin. Things had not gone the way he wanted and he hated it when that happened. He'd tried to cheer himself up by setting off all the car alarms within a five mile radius, but it hadn't done the trick. Then he'd played with the traffic lights and caused a few minor fender benders, plus a couple of fist fights. That made him feel a little bit better. He looked over at one of the other patrons and noticed the black rose tattooed on her upper left arm, and an idea formed. Roses, black roses. Loki finished his tea and muffin, and checked for nearby florists on his iPhone. He headed down the street, animating the odd parking meter as he did.

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Things were abnormally quiet at the mansion when Natasha returned from her savate workout. Tony and Bruce were probably in one of the labs, where the rest of them were was anybody's guess. She opened her bedroom door and stopped as she spotted the single black rose lying on the bed. A quick search of the area located a vase in the bathroom which contained two more roses. A black widow spider made of glass hung from one on a silk thread. There was a note card leaning against the vase. It said 'Enjoy the roses. Though giving a woman flowers and a small glass figurine as a gift might be considered sentimental and you know how I hate sentimentality, I rather liked the spider.' - it was signed Loki.

Son of a bitch.

Though there were no more glass spiders, for the next few days, Natasha would return to find another black rose placed on her bed. She decided not to tell the others, she had proved on the Helicarrier that she could handle Loki's games. Then one day, she returned to find not just a single black rose, but the Trickster himself sitting on her bed, a wooden case next to him. She folded her arms and waited.

"I hope you've enjoyed the roses, Agent Romanoff." Loki smiled at her.

"Why the roses?"

"An apology for my 'mewling quim' comment during our talk on the Hellicarrier. I don't usually engage in vulgarisms, but I got a little overwrought. I have a proposition for you, if you would hear me out."

'I'm listening."

"You bested me, Agent Romanoff. Only the All-Father has ever been able to outmaneuver me. Your master manipulation infuriated me at the time of course, but it impressed me as well." A small table and two chairs appeared. "I would like to engage you in a few games of chess. I feel you would be a worthy opponent."

Natasha smiled. "I'll take white."

Loki opened the wooden case, removed the pieces and set up the board. "Agent Romanoff is such a mouthful, might I call you Natasha?"

"No."

Loki laughed. "Very well, Agent Romanoff it is."

They turned out to be very well matched indeed, though Loki took the first two games. It gave Natasha a chance to study how he played. She was a very quick study.

"I think that's checkmate again." Natasha said. "And as much as I'm enjoying this, I'm starved."

"I had a lemon poppyseed muffin earlier today. I'm not sure if that even qualifies as food. So, perhaps this is indeed a good stopping point."

The chess set disappeared, along with the table and chairs, and Loki trailed after Natasha, changing his look as he did so. His hair was now tousled and his green tee sported a black spider across the front.

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Clint looked up as Natasha, then Loki walked through the living room on their way to the kitchen. Loki saw him and gave him a little wave and a smirk. Loki looked like he had just rolled out of bed.

Clint stood up and followed them into the kitchen. "Tasha? What's Loki doing here ?"

"Playing chess." Natasha took out a couple of eggs, some mushrooms and cheese. "I'm making an omelette. Want one?"

"I'm not sure if you are addressing me," Loki said. "I doubt it, but just in the off chance, no. I found something much better." Loki took a sub labelled 'Stark' out of the fridge, along with a bottle of water. He headed back towards the living room, sat down on the sofa and turned on the tv.

Clint shook his head. "No, thanks. Steve just went to pick up some Shawarma. Are you sure you're ok?"

"I'm fine."

Clint went back to the living room and sat down next to Loki. "So, you played chess."

"Yes." Loki took a bite of the sub, and washed it down with his water. "I think this sub has an inflated sense of itself, rather like Tony. It's a bit much. I think I'll pass." Loki returned the sub, minus one god-sized bite to the fridge. "I think I'll go grab some sushi instead. It was a pleasure Agent Romanoff. We will have to do this again."

And he was gone.

A short while later, Tony Stark came up for air and went to get his sub. There was a bite missing, and a note. "I owe you one bite of a future sub." - Loki.

"Son of a bitch!"