The whole deal with the shindig is that none of the Avengers really wanted to go. It was an opening for an art gallery in downtown New York that featured the new and stunning young artists of the century. Invitation sent to and back, via Tony Stark. Of course, everyone groaned when Pepper forced Tony to go, ergo, they would have to go as well. Tony isn't a good drunk and to be right, if Tony Stark was expected to come, so was everyone else.

So that's why they were all standing awkwardly in the middle of a large room, wearing uncomfortable monkey suits and sipping champagne like the classy (cough bullshit cough) they were. Well, Natasha was, instead of sporting a tuxedo, was in a sleek black dress that complimented her figure. She dully noted that it was the same dress she wore when she had dinner with Loki. And of course, Tony couldn't keep his eyes off her ass. And Clint kept his training on a little farther up north.

So instead of sipping drinks and chiming fake laughter with her horribly horny comrades, Natasha instead walked around, looking at the art that was being featured. And, in her opinion, the art was atrocious.

"You can't just splatter paint on a canvas and call it art," Natasha muttered to herself, scowling at the painting. Of course, she doesn't know anything about art. She could barely draw a stick figure, let alone a descent line. That was Steve's thing, not hers. But she knew what good art looked like, and this wasn't it.

"I agree. In Asgard, the paintings are much more… meaningful."

Natasha whirled around, glaring at the owner of the voice. "What are you doing here?" she whispered harshly, looking worriedly at the others. Oh, but they were perfectly fine on their own. Tony was flirting with one of the hostesses carrying trays of mini sandwiches, Steve was doodling on a napkins, Bruce was staying close by Tony, like a lost puppy, and Thor and Clint were stacking up on all of the mini pretzels they could get their hands on.

Loki grinned, his smile mischievous. "I was invited."

Natasha snorted quietly. "By whom?"

"Myself, of course."

The woman pursed her lips. "And I'm assuming that you did something to the guards to let them pass you by?"

Loki laughed. It almost sounded like a shrill meow from a cat, and it caused shivers to run up Natasha's spine. "I merely put a small… charm on them."

Natasha sighed and rubbed at her temple. "I can't deal with this right now," she muttered. "What did you do to them, Loki?"

The god chuckled. "Don't worry, no harm has come to the mortals. They are merely sleeping on the job, is all."

"And when they wake up?"

"They will not remember a thing."

Natasha sighed. She glared up at Loki. "Give me one good reason why I should go over and tell Tony about your little… invitation," she spat, making the god grin even wider.

"Because I know you don't want to," he laughed merrily.

Natasha examined Loki. He was wearing a dark green suit with a white under shirt and white bow tie. His hair was slicked back as usual, and his eyes seemed to give off an even bright gleam of green. As much as she hated to admit, Natasha thought the trickster look… good. Really good. She sighed in defeat. "Dammit."

Loki laughed and waved over a hostess who was carrying a tray of champagne. He plucked one off the tray, ignoring the girl's flirty gaze with him. Loki only look at Natasha and smiled. He waved the hostess off. "You can leave now." That made her huff and stomp away dramatically.

"She seemed to like you," the assassin noted icily, fixing a glare of Loki's bowtie. "A lot. In fact, at least all of the hostesses have been giving you googly eyes during this whole thing." She didn't know why she sounded pissed or… god forbid, jealous.

But Loki noted the sound of her voice, and he grinned wickedly. "Why, Miss Romanoff, are you, dare I say… jealous?"

Natasha huffed, standing straighter. She glared at the floor. "Yeah, I'm jealous of that girl for talking to you, and you ending up ignoring her. Oh, I'm so depressed that you won't give me the time of day," she spat sarcastically.

Loki laughed. But this time, it seemed like genuine laughter. It made Natasha smile. "Oh, my dear, you are quite the interesting character."

Natasha smirked. "How so?" she questioned. And, no, her tone was not flirtatious. She was being… dramatic and… chipper.

The god smirked. "Well, first off, you have this… aura that just seems to make fiery sparks between people. You… you have this air of confidence that I have seen in no other woman, not even Lady Sif. Not only that, but you are so… content with what you do, it's amazing. Your strength is absolutely brilliant, even I am impressed…"

All while Loki gushed about her, Natasha's face grew warm, and her stomach churned in the worst and best way possible. 'It' just the champagne, it's just the champagne. It's really hot in here. It's just the champagne. I am not growing a little school girl crush on the enemy. No, no, no, no.'

"And you enjoy your life and I admire that about you. Your just amazing and I—" Loki's stuttering ramble was cut short by Natasha's hugging him close and her lips on his.

And no, she was not crying over what Loki said. No. Fucking. Way.