Humanities was a breeze; Natasha and Clint managed to come to a compromise in which she convinced him to do some work and he convinced her to loosen up a bit, which led to a half-finished task sheet and an hour of giggling in the back row. Luckily, her humanities teacher was fun, and not in the trying-to-be-hip sense but in the sense that she knew she could look forward to the class. Vowing to catch up on classwork at home because history was something she could do, and enjoyed on top, it was gingerly that she walked to Science, giving Clint a small parting wave and smile which quickly disappeared as she padded down the hall to the science block. She'd yet to decide what she made of Tony and Bruce; not only were they polar opposites, but startling extremes of the personality scale.

Bruce was already outside the classroom with five minutes to go, which she could have guessed. Just like she could have guessed Tony wouldn't be there until they were seated and ready to go, and with a sigh she almost tiptoed over to Bruce. He peered over the edge of a book he was reading and looked at her. "Hey."
"Hi Bruce," she replied. He ducked back behind the book. He always seemed to have his face buried in some kind of text, and she decided that conversation was futile, putting her bag by her feet and leaning against the lockers that were aligned with the outside wall of the classroom. Nobody paid her any attention; Bruce read and a few others glared at her, but knowing high school gossip everybody was already aware she was 'the new chick'. She started to wish Clint took Science.

Surprisingly, Tony showed before the teacher. When she said he flounced towards them, she meant it in every literal sense. He had this cocky strut mixed with the posture of an egomaniac and somebody who knows they're good looking. He attacked Bruce from behind, jumping on his back and gripping him around the neck in a death-grip kind of strange hug; Natasha expected Bruce to fluster, but he seemed okay, and even laughed slightly. Tony hopped down, gave Natasha a mock-salute and wink, saying "What's cooking good-looking," to which he received an icy glare. "Ouch."

"Ugh," she muttered, loud enough to be heard. He just laughed and clamped an arm around Bruce's shoulder. "We're your science buddies now Nat! I'm gonna call you Nat, okay?" Her look said everything but. "Great. Plus, it pays to be our friends when it comes to assignments and boring shit like that. You should feel privileged." She raised an eyebrow.
"You should feel my foot up your ass," she said. Tony looked at her for a moment, suddenly grinning and letting go of Bruce to give her what had to be the world's most unrequited hug. "Oh yeah, we're gonna be friends Nat." She sighed. Fun.

When the teacher arrived, she and Bruce shuffled into the classroom behind Tony who strode over to a lab bench one from the back, sitting in the middle of three chairs and gesturing for them to do the same. Science was never Natasha's strong suite, and she struggled so much trying to understand phrases like ionic bond that eventually, she had inhumanely murder her pride and turn to her science buddies for help. As much as she would have preferred the socially inept Bruce on the other end of the bench, Tony had graciously placed himself between the two. "I don't get any of this. Do you get this?" She whispered. He ripped the textbook from her hands and glanced over the work. "Ionic bonds." She said. "Haven't you been listening?"
Not looking at her, he simply replied, "I don't have to," before placing the book back in front of her and leaning over with a pen in hand. "Okay, so ionic bonds. You've got your two oppositely charged ions, and your bond is when…"
She listened intently to the simplified lecture, struggling to keep up the vocabulary but understanding a lot more all the same. After about 3 minutes, he handed her the pen and gave her a small smile. Trying not to look confused – and more about the fact that he was helping her than anything to do with chemical bonds – she smiled back.
"Thanks Tony."
"Now it's your turn."
She blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"
He rolled his eyes. "Information for information," he said as if she were an idiot for not understanding. "I helped you out, and now you can answer some questions." Racking her brain for anything she could possibly know more about than Tony Stark – besides people skills and gymnastics, both of which she guessed he didn't care about – she waved her hands at him in a 'go on' gesture. "What do you mean?"
"You and Barton," he stated with an evil glint in his eyes. She groaned.
"And?"
"And? You've known him for half a day and you're already all giggly. You have inside jokes. He's going to class. What's happening, did you poison him or something?" he demanded. She shook her head and scowled. "We're just friends."
Bruce spun around to give her an apprehensive look while Tony put his hands together in mock prayer, pretending to draw a cross against his forehead with a finger as he whispered, "And a moment for a fallen soldier." She punched him lightly on the shoulder. He pouted and rubbed his arm.
"Drama queen."
"Ice queen. Just friends, ey?"
"Leave it. I don't mean like that. Like you said, I barely know him," she snapped.
"Sorry mom." She threw him another glare

He winked, and turned back to Bruce, muttering to him "Boy, if looks could kill," and not warranting a response. She guessed that Bruce's ability to tune out the annoying stuff was what made them friends. They appeared to be sketching something on a notepad together that looked like blueprints, complete with notes and citations. And it looked like it had nothing to do with chemistry.

"I don't care," she assured herself, quietly in case anybody thought she was a mental asylum escapee. She turned back to her work and stared to take notes from the board at the point she'd left off at. Thanks to Tony, now she couldn't help but wonder.
Were they just friends? She'd just said it to throw Tony off. And maybe she did like him as more – maybe she couldn't help it when he was the only person who made her feel safe. All she knew was that she clicked. And she didn't have English or Humanities again until Wednesday.

She didn't speak to Tony or Bruce again until the bell rang, and they walked three abreast down the corridor and back to the group's rendezvous.
"I'm having a party," Tony said, leaning over to her as they walked. "You should come." And then, because he clearly had the impulse control of a five year old in front of a cookie jar, "Clint'll be there, promise."
"Where at?" She replied, ignoring his little dig.
"My place," he said, handing her his phone. "Put in your contact details and I'll text you the address. Friday, six o'clock. Until whenever. Sleep over if you want." He took in her appalled expression. "Not like that you idiot. Stop looking at me like a perv. Steve and Bruce are staying over because they can't go home trashed; they have really strict parents." Bruce gave her a sheepish smile. "If yours are the same I'll set you up a bed in the living room or you can just crash on the couch." She relaxed slightly and handed him back his top-of-the-line phone complete with 'Natasha Romanoff' as his newest contact. "Ok," she said slowly. "Text me. Could be good."
"Could be? Baby, it's a Stark party. It'll be fantastic." He grinned.

They meandered over to the table and Natasha walked over to Clint. He was sitting next to Steve, and Thor was… well, pre-occupied.
"Thor, we agreed on no P.D.A," Tony barked, startling the massive blond who detached himself begrudgingly from the mouth of a brunette Natasha had seen before. She blushed and stepped slightly away from him, perching on a bench next to Thor. She glanced at Natasha. "Have I seen you around?"
"Yeah," Natasha replied with a quick smile. "I think I bumped into you in the office this morning."
The brunette tapped her head, exclaiming, "That's it! Sorry I didn't introduce myself! I'm Jane Foster."
"Natasha Romanoff. I'm new."
"I heard," she replied. Her voice was kind; she even looked nice, as strange as it sounded. She was pretty in a modest way, with clear skin and long, shiny brunette hair that hung in straight locks over her face in a way that suggested she was somewhat shy. "How are you going, new school and everything?"
"Fine, good. Yeah, it's good," Natasha said, nodding.

"I'm good too," said a voice from behind Natasha that startled her. "If anyone was wondering." Natasha spun around. A petite girl with mousey curls and glasses stuck her hand out. "I'm Darcy."
They shook hands. "And I thought I was the only girl here."
She laughed, which made her nose crinkle up. Her laugh was the snorty, infectious kind that made even Natasha smile. She could have sworn even Bruce cracked a grin, and wondered if the way he was staring at Darcy implied what she was thinking. Her style of dress suggested she was Bruce's type – maybe nerdy, but in a cute way. Nerd chic, Natasha thought to herself. Her boisterous laughter and general personality suggested she might be a bit too much for him. Then again, he was friends with Tony.
"We don't usually hang out with these sorry cases," she said with a wink. "But we heard Tony was having a party. And Jane's mouth was feeling particularly slobber-free." Jane glared at Darcy.
"It's more of a small gathering," interrupted Tony. "Just the few of us. Do you even remember what happened last time I had a party?"
"Nobody will ever forget what happened last time you had a party!" Darcy said, laughing again. Natasha laughed despite feeling like she was being left out from a particularly funny joke. They all looked at Steve, who hid his head in his hands.
"Anyway," Jane said. "We won't invite anyone else. Plus I feel bad for Natasha with all you men around. She deserves female company." Natasha flashed Jane an appreciative smile.
"Fine!" said Tony, throwing himself atop the table and pushing Steve to the side slightly. He didn't seem annoyed; Natasha had come to learn that when Tony wanted something, nobody bothered to stop him. It was how everything worked.
"So we'll see you on Friday, Tony?" Darcy asked.

"Be there or be square."

Natasha started talking to Clint when she noticed something. Out the corner of her eye – Loki was watching them, from a corner of the English block, hidden slightly by shade. Not entirely- something about him just made it easy not to notice he was there. Despite the fact that it was a cloudy day; grey, bordering on rain, his eyes still managed to glisten. In a way that meant that even she could see the glint in his eye as he watched them speak, a glint that was… what? Angry? Sad? It was the only thing that betrayed his otherwise unreadable expression.

She shuddered slightly and turned back to Clint. "Loki's watching us,"
"He's a creep," Clint agreed.
"Hey!" Thor objected from the other side of the table. "Do not speak of my brother like that."
"Sorry Thor."

Thor and Jane took off with Darcy in tow, and Tony and Bruce were fixated on what they'd been doing in Science. Steve sat awkwardly between the two groups.
"How come Thor talks like that?" Natasha said casually. "Like, so formally?"
"He's from Norway," Steve said before Clint could reply. "Transferred a few years ago. Loki too. I guess their English is just like that."
"Huh."
Steve turned to Clint. "Hey Clint, track finals are coming up and I was wondering…"

Natasha looked back to where Loki had been sitting. She didn't need to though- something in her gut already knew he would be gone. A glance confirmed that. Strange.

"So you're going to Tony's"
"Sorry?" She looked back at Clint. "Oh, yeah. You?"
"Wouldn't miss it," he said with a crooked smile.
Steve frowned and put his phone away. "I should get to class."
"Why, you only do health and physical. Isn't every class just the same with a different teacher?" Clint pointed out. Steve shook his head eagerly. "Nope! I'm doing maths. Coach said I have to if I'm playing college."
"Good on you Steve," Clint said with a laugh, patting him on the back. For a moment, Natasha couldn't help but see it as Clint patting a Labrador, in the way Steve was being all blond and smiley, and she giggled. The both looked at her.
"I should go too," she said, clearing her throat. "Italian. Where's H block?"
Clint pointed vaguely at an off-grey building. "Right there." He saw her looking at him. "What, me? Ugh, I have Drama. I wouldn't go if you held me at gunpoint."
She waggled a finger at him in almost-mock disapproval. "Fine. See you tomorrow. Bye Steve."
"See ya."
-

Sorry for the non-eventful chapter guys! But I promise it's a build-up. Leave reviews