Back by popular demand! Sorry If this doesn't live up to your standards- I'm new at this kind of writing! Thanks to everyone that reviewed, all of your support really spurred me on. I think I have a fuzzy idea of where this is going now, and I just hope I find time to finish it. This chapter is extra, super-duper long because I may not find time to write for a while, but I promise I will post more if people want me to!

Special thanks to Aminiojules for the very first review –I always try my bestest to keep all of my characters in character, so it really warmed the cockles of my heart to hear you say that! :D

Anyways, here's some more Natasha/Loki goodness (it comes later in the chapter, but it's worth it you guys, trust me). Let me know what you think!

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The dusky pink clouds stained the icy water with flecks of rosy gold as the sun slowly dipped lower and lower into the horizon. The Black Widow sighed slightly and tilted the flute of expensive champagne back towards her dark cherry lips, pulled the white fox-fur coat tighter around her shoulders and leaned listlessly upon the gleaming railing of Mr. Rostad's newly-launched yacht.

The man himself sat across from her, much too engrossed in what he was saying to pay much mind to her obvious lack of interest in the conversation. The day had been a long one, but she had acquired all but the most sensitive information that she had been after, so it had also been a productive one. She had christened Rostad's new yacht that afternoon, and he had spent the rest of the evening bragging about his illegal arms export business, hoping to entice her into selling him oil for cheap. She had played along thus far as a naive and star-struck young heiress who had suddenly come into possession of her late father's company. Her 'father' had been difficult to talk into faking his death, but she had a way with words… and weapons.

"-So I told Anatoly that if he wanted to continue to do business with me, he would have to change his tune -change it by precisely €50, 000!" he cackled gleefully at his own joke. Natasha offered a halfhearted giggle and a wide-eyed look of admiration to complete the appearance. Rostad gave her a shark-toothed grin and ran his immaculate fingers through his thinning blonde hair. It had only been two days since Fury had given her the Tuesday deadline and she was just hours away from completing the task. Perhaps, she thought wistfully for a minute, she could spend the rest of the week sipping mojitos in Bora Bora before returning to New York. Fury would never have to know.

Speaking of things Fury didn't know, she thought suddenly, she still hadn't told him about her encounter with Loki. Natasha was half convinced it had all been another dream, but she hadn't had a dream since then, and it had begun to concern her. Not that she wanted the dreams back, but to not be able to tell dreams from reality was a loss of control that she couldn't live with. And what would telling Fury accomplish anyways? She would have to tell him about Loki's offer, and Fury didn't trust her much already, that would only add flame to the fire. Besides, she reasoned, if Loki did start trouble, he wouldn't be silent about it for long.

"What are you thinking about my little Tzarina?" Rostad's voice broke into her thoughts suddenly, "Do you have any idea how sweet you look when you start thinking?" he asked as he pulled her hand into his own.

Natasha giggled once more and added a blush for effect. "I was just thinking how nice it will be when we sail to France next week!" she replied in her best Russian accent. Rostad might have lived and worked in Russia for over a decade, but his Russian was terrible and he hated being reminded of it.

"By the way," he started as he pulled his hand away from hers to take a sip of scotch, "the housekeeper tells me that you damaged a painting yesterday?"

"It was so ugly!" Natasha moaned, "I was having nightmares about it being in the hallway all night. Besides, you said you would put me in a pretty room!" she pouted and looked dolefully up at him.

Rostad grimaced slightly, "that ugly painting was of my great grandfather!" he snapped, "we don't have rooms decorated with pink kittens and pansies if that's what you're after!"

"Your great grandfather?" Natasha repeated with a sight look of confusion, as she rose and walked towards him, "well, the apple has fallen far from its tree I think." She walked behind him and began to massage his shoulders slowly. Rostad's anger faded quickly and he chuckled as he let his head drop towards his chest and allowed her fingers to work their magic.

The Captain came in to announce that they had returned to the dock and Rostad invited Natasha for a nightcap in his private apartments after peevishly dismissing the man.

"Oh, certainly Mr. Rostad, I would love to discuss further this business deal! But I would like to freshen up before we do so." she replied with every ounce of enthusiasm that she didn't feel.

"Please, call me Nikolas," he insisted as he helped her from the boat and flashed her what he must have thought to be a charming smile.

She quickly made her escape and returned to the suite she had been inhabiting for the past month. Rostad wouldn't be expecting her for another hour or so; he would assume that she'd be primping and fussing like any other woman. Natasha Romanov wasn't just any woman however, and the daggers she began pulling from their hiding-places were evidence enough of that. She had managed to discover Rostad's personal gun cache in his room already, so she knew she'd be safe if she needed to make use of it.

Natasha pulled a sleek black dress from her closet and slipped it on, taking care to add a knife to her garter belt, but deciding that excess precaution was unnecessary. Nikolas Rostad wasn't a man to be toyed with around his goons, but once she had him alone he would be at her mercy. She smirked as she added a dab of lipstick and perfume to complete the look.

Now, she thought, she could finally catch up on some reading. Being out all day with that odious bore had begun to take a toll on her IQ. She swiped a couple of newspapers from the breakfast table and lounged on the comfortable bed whilst skimming the headlines for anything important. The subway attacks that Fury had been talking about were being blamed on Eastern terrorists, but Natasha had long since realized that 'terrorist' was really a code word for 'we don't know' or 'we don't want to tell you.' The tracks of the subway, it seemed, had been corroded by some unknown chemical substance and workers were estimating closures of up to five months. The rest of the article was inane verbal abuse about government inefficiencies so she threw it aside and picked up a Russian paper.

Her reading was interrupted by a loud knocking on the door, followed by a muffled entreaty for her to open it. Rostad, she thought, sighing and putting aside the article about Putin's latest publicity stunt. She opened the door and put on her best 'surprised' face when she saw him. "Mr. Rostad! I thought I was to come to you?" Rostad smirked and held her chin with his left hand while he leaned heavily upon the door frame with his right.

"I didn't think I could wait much longer to finish our conversation –I'm sure you know, I'm not a patient man." He seemed much more intoxicated than he had on the ship and the alcohol on his breath made her cringe inwardly, but she put on a bright smile and allowed him inside none the less. This would be even better than his room, now she had her entire arsenal to play with.

"May I offer you a drink Mr. Rostad?" she asked peppily, holding up a decanter of wine that a servant had brought up earlier.

"You can offer me a lot of things, I think" he replied with a drunken leer. Natasha smiled pleasantly and poured out two glasses of the dark liquid. She handed him a glass and set her own down on the table, regarding him suspiciously; why had he felt the need to get stinking drunk when he knew he'd have company? It seemed out of character for someone who was normally a very calculating businessman.

"Ivanya," he said suddenly, pulling her towards the bed, "let's not waste precious time." He grinned and began to sloppily paw at her. This was the part she hated the most, but sometimes it had to be done, and at the very least, she wouldn't have to go through with all of it, judging by his state, she'd just have to get him worked up enough to spill the beans. She stealthily hid the garter dagger beneath the mattress and allowed him to unzip the dress as she straddled him.

Suddenly, his expression changed completely. Gone was the drunken stupor, and gone were his messy kisses. He grabbed her by the waist and flipped her over so he was the one straddling her. His wispy blond hair turned thick and black; his tanned and creased face turned smooth, angular and cold. She was staring at Loki. "Miss me?" he asked humorlessly.

She pushed the shock from her features quickly and matched his glare with her apathy. "Can't say I particularly did," she pulled the knife from its hiding place and slashed at his shoulder, causing him to pull away for a moment and giving her time to retreat to the other end of the room. "What are you doing here Loki, you can obviously see that I'm busy."

"Busy?" he spat as he rose from the bed to his intimidating height, "busy whoring yourself out to wealthy criminals?"

Natasha winced slightly at the cruel barb. "I'm a spy Loki. Sometimes the job gets messy. Besides, you don't know what I was going to do- I had a plan!"

"So this is what Fury makes you do? Work as his prostitute?"

"It is none of Fury's business how I get the job done so long as no innocents are hurt," Natasha ground out angrily.

"Come with me, and I promise you'll never have to do this again." Loki's eyes softened a little as he spoke.

"With you?" she asked incredulously, "First off, I don't know where Tony keeps his toys, so I'm no use to you anyways. And second off, I think I made it clear the first time that I have no interest in your schemes. You spoke about the 'red on my ledger' when we were in New York, I don't think that being the cause of another planet's subjugation will wipe that clean."

"Subjugation? My people will welcome me with open arms once they see what I have to offer!"

Natasha's expression of humiliated anger melted away to reveal one of mild disinterest. "So, you're after Jotunheim this time?"

Loki's face froze for a moment as he regarded her with sparkling green eyes. "My, my Agent Romanov –that is the second time you've tricked me. Two more times than anyone else I have ever met." He casually strode closer towards her, ignoring the blade she brandished warningly.

"Don't make the mistake of thinking that this is the only weapon I have at my disposal," she answered as her body tensed for a fight.

"I don't make those kinds of mistakes Agent Romanov. But answer me this;" he said with stride unbroken, "why, I wonder, have you not yet told Director Fury about our meeting?"

"If that's what you think, then you've lost already," she lied smoothly.

Loki chuckled lightly as he stopped just short of the tip of her blade, "you may have a knack for getting me to say more than I should, but you're not that good of a liar. Tell me Natasha," he crooned, "have you thought about it? Fury doesn't trust you, the rest of them are intimidated by you. Even our dear Agent Barton doesn't really understand you –he still looks at you with that lost puppy look that makes you want to vomit, doesn't he?" he asked slowly as he pressed closer towards her, seemingly oblivious to the dagger that was beginning to pierce the dark leather armor he wore. For a moment, Natasha let her guard down as his words struck several chords within her, but regretted it in the next moment when her knife left her hands and the god of mischief had her wrists pinned to the wall behind her.

"Let me go Loki. Rostad will be here any minute to check what happened to me, and if he finds you… I hope you're good at dodging machine gun fire."

Loki simply tsked and shook his head at her words. "Now, now, Agent Romanov. You can't always have it your way. Besides, I've already met with our dear Mr. Rostad earlier this evening; such a charmer," he added sarcastically.

"Loki…" she growled lowly, "what have you done with him?"

"Nothing terrible. But I dare say he may be late for breakfast tomorrow, unless he's a fan of trekking across the Siberian wastes in January. Don't worry," he added before she could reply, "I made sure the village I took him to had electricity –a few times a month."

Natasha did her best to control the rage she felt bubble up at the sight of his self-satisfied smirk.

"How could you do that?! I needed him" she yelled in frustration, "S.H.E.I.L.D needed him!" she corrected herself quickly.

Loki's smirk slid off of his face in an instant, and his grip around her wrists began to cut off blood flow. "It seems I have underestimated just how much you enjoy your work."

"Don't tell me you're jealous Loki," she retorted with an exaggeratedly lusty expression on her face.

"Jealous?" he laughed, "of that bottom-feeding mortal? I'm more powerful now than I ever was Agent Romanov. I could have you here and now in so many different ways," he murmured suggestively as he lowered his head to her right ear and his hot breath whispered lightly over her skin. Natasha fought to keep her breathing even but her attempt was half-hearted at best; he was the only one who had ever matched her at that skill.

"More powerful?" she repeated, struggling to keep the huskiness out of her voice, "are you talking about your new 'teleportation' skills?"

"Good of you to notice Natasha," he mumbled against the delicate skin of her neck, "captivity allowed me plenty of time to hone my skills. Now, I think, is the time to put them to use." He pulled his head back and stared at her with dark, feral eyes. Slowly he dropped his gaze to her lips and lingered for a moment and she felt herself coming undone. "No one will get hurt, unless they interfere," he promised solemnly, "and once I have the throne I was born to occupy, you can have anything you desire in these nine realms."

The time for lucid thought had passed, and Natasha found herself straining against his hands to get closer to him. Her legs wound themselves around his waist and her lips fought for purchase upon his pale skin. Her breath came out in desperate gasps as he released her wrists and wound his hands through her fiery hair and carried her smoothly back onto the bed. His surprisingly soft lips found her own and he explored the recesses of her mouth with an adventurous tongue as he gently slid one hand up her belly and teasingly let it linger just below her breasts. She moaned in frustration and pulled him more tightly against herself with her legs as she dug her fingernails into his strong, hard shoulders. She pulled urgently at the clasps on his clothing and felt his lips curl into a grin against the base of her neck.

"Patience, my little spider," he chuckled melodiously as he lightly grazed her collarbone with his lips and slid his free hand up her thigh. Natasha ground her teeth and glared impetuously at his wide grin and sparkling eyes. "Can I take this as an acceptance of my offer?" he queried as he lightly lapped at her nipple.

Her eyes flew open with shock and electricity buzzed through her fingers and toes at his touch. "You can't ask me that now," she gasped out breathlessly as she arched into his mouth.

"On the contrary my darling, I can, and I think I will." He lifted his wonderful lips from her breasts and licked them slowly while inching his hand further up her quaking thighs. Natasha couldn't understand how he had hardly touched her and yet she was already so close.

She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to formulate a coherent, logical reply, but all that came out was a tortured, "ooh, yes!"

Loki smiled wickedly at her obvious distress before finally gliding his thumb between her aching folds and rubbing in slow, controlled circles while lightly nipping at her neck. She finally managed to tear through the stubborn bindings of his jerkin and reveled in the lean, muscular torso against her bare skin. He whispered into her ear in a mysterious language as he touched her, and while she had no idea what he was saying, she somehow knew exactly what he meant. She orgasmed harder than she could have previously imagined and the world floated away from her for an unknown amount of time as she rode the aftershocks mindlessly.

When Natasha finally came to, Loki was shirtlessly lounging against the headboard with a Russian paper in his hands and a slight grin on his lips. "Finally awake Agent Romanov?" he asked casually while setting aside the paper and focusing his gleaming eyes upon her scowling face. "Have I offended you? And here I thought we were getting along so well."

Natasha was annoyed at his seeming calm after what they had just done; she still hadn't managed to wipe that smirk off of his face. 'Next time,' an unwelcome voice echoed in her head.

"We're not friends Loki," she bit out evenly.

"Well, I'm sure we can remedy that situation with time," he said pulling on a magically mended shirt. "We're partners now." He flashed her a dazzling smile as he nimbly tied the straps and hid his toned torso from view.

"If I agree to help you, you have to help me."

Loki quirked an eyebrow at her with an interested expression.

"If Rostad is still alive, he won't be of any use to us now." she continued, "but if you play along, we may not need him after all."

Loki contemplated her offer.

"I'm listening," he replied evenly.

"He was planning on hosting a gala event next month with all of the major players. That was when we were going to confirm the details of his enterprise and catch some of those other bastards in the act. If you can play the part until then, I can take care of all the details."

He was silent for a minute and completely still as he gazed out through the bay windows onto the moonlit waves below. "Why not?" he burst out suddenly, spinning around with a gleeful look on his face, "It should be great sport!"

Natasha let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding but kept her expression entirely unsurprised. "I have to return to New York next week, and when that happens you'll have to be careful about contacting me; I'll be staying at the Stark Tower."

"I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship Natasha," Loki smiled charmingly as he pulled her hand to his lips and feathered it with a kiss.

"Maybe it is," she purred as she grabbed his hand and pulled him towards her. Before he could react, she placed a chaste kiss onto his lips and released his hand. Loki narrowed his eyes for a moment before breaking out into a small grin and straightening himself.

"Until next time, my little spider." He gave her a mock bow and disappeared, leaving the room much emptier than it had been before he had arrived. What the hell had she gotten herself into?

So, what did you guys think? I hope I didn't ruin that last scene with my inept writing- like I said, first time with something like this! Constructive criticism is very welcome. Hope everyone enjoyed it- review please! ^_^