Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or any of the Marvel characters

A/N: Thank you all bunches for the reviews, follows and favorites! I appreciate them greatly. I do have a pretty solid idea where I want this story to go, but I'm still figuring out the small details and such. I'll try to get out a chapter about every Monday or so, depending on my work schedule and when my family comes to visit.

Let me know what you guys think, enjoy!


Loki stood by the bed looking down at Natasha, his eyes scanning her body. He gently lifted up her back with one hand while the other grabbed what he was looking for - her gun. He had a feeling that this wasn't the only weapon she'd have on her, so he patted her down softly finding another gun strapped to her side and a knife wrapped around either ankle.

He shape-shifted into the agent and took her weapons with him, seeing as he would need them to complete the look (he also didn't want her to have them in case he got back and found her awake.)

Transporting himself a few blocks away from S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, he started walking, planning how he'd go about asking for the vacation.

Perhaps I'll say I'm tired… It's been only six mere months since the war with, uh, me, and I'm still exhausted. I just want a little break, nothing too long. Maybe a month or two, that's it.

He grinned to himself; this is going to work perfectly!

Loki - well, Natasha - strutted into the building and asked the agent at the desk where he'd be able to find the Director. After getting the directions, he stepped into the elevator and looked at himself in the mirrored walls.

Wow, he thought. Ms. Romanoff really is a beautiful creature.

He looked down at himself taking in the sight; the curves of her body, her small hands, her muscular arms and legs. Looking back into the mirror, he noticed all of her facial assets. Her marvelous, deep green eye color, the cheekbones, flawless complexion, and her plump, soft lips.

The elevator beeped and he stepped off. Spotting a room at the end of the hall, Loki walked towards it making sure he kept his body language like that of Natasha herself. He slipped into the room as quiet as a mouse and saw some files on the table. "The Avengers: CLASSIFIED" was stamped on the front of each folder. Sifting through them, he found what he was looking for, Natasha's file.

"Natalia Alianovna Romanova," he read aloud, the words flowing out of his mouth like silk- he wasn't called 'Silvertounge' for nothing. He quite liked her name though, and wondered why the human had been going by 'Natasha Romanoff' but didn't question it too much.

"Ah, seeing what we've got against you?"

The voice from behind him was none other than Director Fury's. His eye had a joking look in it, although his face didn't show it.

"You could say that," Loki replied, suppressing one of his devilish smirks.

"So, what are you here for?" The Director's tone was serious again, "Looking for another mission? Can't stay away from the action, can you."

"Actually, that's what I'm here to talk about," Loki started. "Except, I can get away from the action."

Fury tilted his head slightly in confusion.

"As you know, our war with Loki was far from easy, and the missions afterwards are keeping me from regaining all of my energy. I wish to take a vacation for a month or two." Loki tried to sound like a mortal, but could hear the proper ways of his Asgardian language seeping through.

"Oh, really?" The Director raised an eyebrow and looked unconvinced. "Why this sudden change in pace? The other day you and bird-boy were out snapping necks left and right like it's some sort of damn game."

Loki opened his mouth to speak, but closed it quickly realizing he would have be as convincing as possible. He had to think of a good excuse, and he had to do it soon.

Fury crossed his arms and shifted his weight to one leg. It was obvious he was getting impatient.

Taking a deep breath, Loki looked down and tried to sound as serious as possible. "I… uh, well…," he scratched the back of his head and suddenly his eyes flickered up to the Director's.

The words spilled out of his mouth like rain on a cloudy day and he was grinning wildly. "I've met someone," he started, keeping eye contact with man in front of him. "He's one of those tall, dark, and handsome guys. Not to mention he's thin, muscular, the whole package. I would really like to get to know him, and I don't think going out on missions all the time would be a good start."

Loki thought he was clever, clearly describing himself, but being subtle enough that Nick wouldn't notice. At this, the man laughed. He actually laughed in Loki's face.

Fury regained himself and put his 'serious face' back on, "Good one, Agent. Now tell me the real reason before I make you Stark's personal slave."

Loki cringed, remembering what damage the Man of Iron was able to do. It seems as though the cringe applied for Natasha as well, because the corner of the Director's mouth turned up ever so slightly.

Nick looked much taller and intimidating from this angle, seeing as Natasha was just a bit over 5 feet tall. He chuckled, he's in an oddly good mood today, and said "What? Stark has the hots for you, you should be flattered."

The God-in-disguise finally understood the man's humor and a sigh softly escaped his lips.

"Fine," Loki began, knowing he had to make this excuse as believable as possible. "I just want to stop all of this for a little while. The missions, the agents, you…" he added with a small smile. "That's all I know. I just need a break.I do not wish to quit, I would just like some time off. Enjoy myself for a little while. Sometimes it's a little overwhelming, and like you said, I kill like it's a game."

Loki felt the truth in his words, realizing that they could be applied to him just as easily as to Ms. Romanoff.

Nick saw pain in Natasha's eyes right before it was covered up with a wall of their usual numbness. He remembered sending Barton out to kill her. She was a cold-blooded assassin and he could see her tense up toward the end of her point.

The Director sighed as a silent agreement and motioned Natasha towards the door. As she walked by, he put a hand on her shoulder and firmly stated, "Agent, I respect your request, but if we need you, you will be called in. Understood?"

At that, Loki nodded and left the room. He was happy with himself; turns out he's a pretty convincing Natasha. He did, however, feel confused about what he said to Fury. His words really did seem to be more about himself than the agent he was disguised as.

After exiting the building, he walked a few blocks and started thinking.

Why am I doing all of this? I could've just sent her off with Thor. That big bag of brawn would have easily carried her out and flown back to Stark tower where she would get the medical treatment she needs. She could be surrounded by friends who care for her, making sure she heals and comes back better than ever… But no, I had to take her myself.

Maybe it was because he was constantly searching for approval, or trying to be better than Thor at something. Healing Natasha would prove to Thor that he could do it without anyone's help, but what good is that when Thor would be the only one who knew? Perhaps it was that he and the agent weren't that different; killers in the wrong context when really they're just lost souls looking for someone to give them the chance to try to make it all better.

He respected the woman greatly. After all, she had tricked the trickster, and was very dangerous for a mortal. No, that couldn't be all, though.

Shaking his head, he walked into an alley. Loki didn't want to dwell on thoughts, or especially feelings. Feelings always led to hurt and disappointment. Whatever the reason he had for helping Ms. Romanoff, he didn't want to think about it.

Checking to make sure no one would see him, he transported himself back to the apartment and changed himself from Natasha to Loki with a flick of his wrist.

He peered into the bedroom, seeing that the woman was still not awake. He snuck in and went into the adjoined bathroom. Grabbing a washcloth, he ran it under cold water and rung it out. Folding it up, he went back into the bedroom and placed it on Natasha's forehead. Loki took his hands and placed them on her face. Even with his hands being cold all the time, he could tell that she was much warmer than usual.

Using his magic, he changed the mortal into a tank top and shorts so that she could cool down, and so he could tend to her wound. He also changed his own clothes so that he was wearing long, dark pants with a deep green t-shirt. This was much more comfortable than his armor, and easier to move around in.

Loki wasn't quite sure how to go about healing the woman, as he could usually fix it with a wave of his hand.

The God took another washcloth from the bathroom, again wetting it and ringing it out. Knowing the wound needed to be cleaned, he dabbed at the long cut across her chest, trying to clean out any dirt that may have gotten in it. He found some bandages in a first-aid kit in the bathroom and was contemplating how he would wrap it around Natasha.

Placing one hand on the nape of her neck, he lifted her head and tried to sit her up. He had to get the bandage across her chest, under her arm, around her back, under the other arm, and around again.

He let out a deep sigh and narrowed his eyes in determination.

After a few minutes of struggling with the bandage itself, and with the dead weight of Natasha, Loki was finally able to get the wound covered up. He laid the agent back down, again taking in the sight of how peaceful but helpless she looked.

Wounded, unconscious, sick.

Another wave of guilt hit the God like a freight train. He made Natasha as comfortable as he could, and then realized that he was exhausted. Loki glanced at the clock on the wall and it was the late afternoon.

He figured that she wouldn't be waking up any time soon, so he was going to call it early and go to sleep. His mortal clothes vanished with pajamas replacing them.

Loki looked over at the other side of the bed. This is my apartment, he thought, my chambers, my bed. I shall sleep here. After all, the agent will not wake up any time soon. If so, she'll be too weak to do anything.

Loki climbed under the covers with a grunt. He rolled onto his side, facing Natasha. He slowed his breaths, inhaling and exhaling in unison with the female next to him.

Being who he was, - Thor's shadow, a Jotun, a murderer - he wasn't used to the company of other people in his bed. There was no doubt though, that he enjoyed it. A small smile was now on his face. He quickly drifted off to sleep, the last image in his mind being Natasha's bandaged chest rising and falling with every breath.

The next morning he woke up to the same image, except this time, he saw a pair of eyes staring back at him.