Natasha Romanov stood in her shower, letting the warm water wash over her aching muscles. Showers usually relaxed her, but this one wasn't working.
If she was honest with herself, she'd admit that she hadn't been relaxed in a long time—more than a month. She hadn't been able to relax at all since the event.
The event. She chuckled bitterly. Can't you even think about it without hiding it under a euphemism? It was an intergalactic battle, and you kicked ass. That's it. What more is there to process?
It was true—she had kicked ass. All of the Avengers had. Despite all their personal pride problems and petty arguments, they'd managed to come together and stave off the Chitauri that were pouring through a hole right above New York City. When it looked like humanity was doomed, they'd found a way to save the day—and the world.
In the wake of such heroics, the "superheroes" (hearing that title always made Natasha roll her eyes) had been plastered on every TV screen and magazine cover available. While some of the team members, like Tony, relished such attention, Natasha hated it. She had been trained as a spy and an assassin—attention wasn't exactly welcome. She would much rather hole up in her training room or firing range.
Luckily, Clint was the same way. In fact, they'd seen each other an awful lot over the past few weeks, whether it was sparring at Fury's underground gym or shooting rounds at the firing range. Being with Clint was comforting—he was the only thing that hadn't completely changed on her (well, except for his brief period under Loki's mind control).
Yet even that was getting complicated. Spending so much time with Clint had brought back familiar feelings she thought she had buried long ago. She was too professional to fall for another agent, especially one who had so recently been trying to kill her. Even though he'd decided not to at the last minute, it would be stupid to complicate matters. They'd lost control of themselves in Budapest, but she wasn't going to let it happen again. She and Clint were partners now, and she'd even call him a friend—maybe her one true friend. But they couldn't be anything more. She had to keep her mind clear—especially since Loki was still running around.
Somehow, he'd managed to slip away during the chaos after Tony sent the missile through the portal. It didn't really surprise her—he was a slippery bastard. Now he was loose somewhere in the galaxy, and he was such a sore loser, she knew he'd try something again when he was done nursing his wounds. In fact, she had a sneaking suspicion he might even try to pay her a visit; he'd been pretty pissed when she tricked him at his own tricks up in the heliocarrier.
She had looked tough behind the glass of his cage, but she had been shaking inside. It was one thing to interrogate anarchists or terrorists. It was another thing to exchange barbs with a venomous demi-god. At first, she was unnerved by his sheer power; she knew that if he was anything like his brother Thor, he could snap her like a twig. He looked unassuming because he was so slight and withdrawn, but she had seen him pick up men with one hand and hurl them across the room.
Yet as she had talked with him, she'd gotten bolder. He was a demi-god, sure, but he was also a whining, spoiled second child who was obsessed with one-upping his brother. When she'd realized his weaknesses, unraveling him had been a piece of cake. And he could snarl at her as much as she wanted; she got what she came for.
No, she wasn't going to think about Loki at all. The team would deal with him if he ever showed his miserable (yet maddening attractive) face again. Right now, she was going to towel off and call Clint to see if he wanted to take a run through his obstacle course. He didn't have a landline (he was almost as paranoid as she was), but she knew his cell phone. And his cabin was wonderfully secluded—there wouldn't be paparazzi dogging her every step out there.
She wrapped her towel around her torso and picked up the phone. She knew Clint's number by heart.
"Clint? Care for an evening work out?"