Disclaimer: I don't own The Avengers, or any of the characters used in this fic. They all belong to Marvel and their respective creators. I only own any original characters that I choose to include, as well as any original plot ideas.

Chapter 4: Sealed With A Twist


Following Fury's outburst, he had kept them there for well over three hours, all of them frighteningly relieved when they were dismissed with a loud, "Don't screw this up!" Natasha suspected that, had Tony just kept his damned mouth shut, they would have walked out of the meeting much sooner, and without that incessant ringing in their ears. But, of course, the man couldn't have left well enough alone and, as the Director had gone off on Thor for not relaying his information sooner, Tony had pipped up with a quick, "Looks like somebody needs a Midol."

She stepped out into the parking garage with Clint, still not too pleased with his past behavior. They hadn't spoken for the entirety of the night, and, on his behalf, Natasha had decided that, until he could manage himself like an adult and apologize, he could sleep out in the living room on the sofa. While he had seemed appalled when she had locked the bedroom door, Clint had not complained.

Boots clacking against he concrete floor, she led the way to the convertible, peering outside and immediately regretting the fact that they hadn't put the top up. Of course, with December closing in on them, it would start snowing.

A sigh escaped her painted lips as she pulled the remote from her pocket, the vehicle's headlights blinking as she slipped between two rows of cars. Upon seating herself behind the wheel, she shoved the key into the ignition and flipped on the heater, hoping that it would, at least, keep them warm until they could get home and put on the top.

Clint shuffled into the car beside her, and stared decidedly at the control panel. She rolled her eyes, the seat belt clicking as she backed out of the space, staring down the row of cars as Tony sped off down the exit ramp with a whoop, Pepper on his arm demanding that he slow the car down right this damn second.

With a foot on the brake, Natasha reached down to shift the gears, and caught Clint's hand instead.

"You want me to drive?" he offered.

She shook her head, peering into the rear view mirror to see Thor hurrying across the garage to Jane's rental, holding her tightly in his arms. "No."

They sat there for a moment in awkward silence before Clint spoke up again. "Nat, I'm sorry. It wasn't your fault with the coffee and the..."

Natasha sighed, dropping her head onto the back of the seat. "All right," she said.

"So, you'll...?"

"I'll forgive you if, when we get home, you put the damned top on this car." Her eyes moved to the white snow falling from the sky outside. "Why the hell did we even bring this thing? I don't enjoy freezing."

Clint said nothing; just reached over her, pushed a button, and tried his best not to smile as the top popped out from behind the back seat and lifted itself over the windshield.

"How did you do that?"

He stared at her. "The top doesn't come off," he said. "It folds up into the back."

Natasha was speechless.

"Want me to drive?"

She nodded, and Clint hopped out of the car, ran around to her side, opened the door, and helped her back around and into the passenger's seat. When she was seated, he sat back down, revved the engine, and, much like Tony, sped down the exit ramp and out into the stream of traffic.

Natasha peered out the window, afraid to address anything which had been discussed at the meeting. Particularly the bit about the phantoms. She had spoken to Fury in secret before the rest of the Avengers had arrived, curious as to whether or not she was the only one seeing things. She hadn't elaborated on who she'd seen, but he had told her that several people in the city were seeing strange people aside from the giants, namely in areas surrounding one of SHIELD's buildings.

Ahead on the corner, she could see the little cafe again, and, certain that she had not been seeing things before, told Clint that she would very much like to get a cup of hot coffee before they arrived home.

The vehicle pulled over and into a nearby parking lot, the two of them hopping out and running across the crosswalk before the light changed color.

"I'm gonna run to the restroom," he told her, holding the door open. "Grab a table, and I'll be right back."

Natasha nodded, and stared across the counter top at the menu.

Reading along the list of hot drinks, she came across tea and the variations that were offered, pressing the replay button in her head and watching as he smiled at her from his seat yet again. He had been there, she had seen him, and it all made sense now, given what Thor had told them through the tension of the meeting.

When the woman at the counter asked what she would like, Natasha placed her order, hoping that Clint wouldn't mind his coffee black, paid, and went to secure them a table in the corner by the window.

The streets, despite being filled with people and yellow taxi cabs, seemed somewhat serene as the white powder fell gently from the sky. Winter always seemed to calm the most fearsome of places, giving them a sort of otherworldly appearance that stilled the omnipresent radar for danger within her mind.

She heard the legs of a chair scrape against the floor and turned her head, opening her mouth to tell Clint that his coffee had been ordered black, as he hadn't said what he wanted before hurrying off.

Instead, she stared right back at the man whom she had seen before, detesting the way he smiled at her sudden realization.

Her hands curled around the edges of the table. "What the hell are you doing here?!"

"Nice to see you too, Agent Romanoff."

He sat there without a care in the world, presumably the same tea on the table in front of him as he smiled, as though they were only making casual conversation.

Natasha wanted to kill him. No, to do what she did best and force all those slimy secrets right out of him, and drag his sorry hide to SHIELD. But she couldn't, not here with all these people present and watching. Her head turned towards the restroom, hoping that Clint would walk out at any minute, see the god, and get rid of him before instinct got the better of her. But, as she did, Natasha saw a man frozen in place, as if he had been walking through the restroom door.

The rest of the cafe was very much the same. People stood still in awkward positions, as though they were sculptures set up on the ice of the lake. Even the world outside the window had come to screeching halt.

She sat back in her chair. Of course he'd choose to play this way. Mischievous god powers, and all that.

"What do you want?" the assassin snapped, folding her arms so as to avoid clocking him.

The dark prince seemed to laugh at her over his tea, leaning forward. "I came to say hello, is all."

"Oh, I see," she said, voice dripping with venom and sarcasm. "So, you think that, after all the hell you've put everyone through, you can come back with a skip in your step, and everything will be better." The god said nothing, the smile seeming to vanish the longer she glared at him. "Fat chance."

"Actually," he dropped a manila envelope on the table, looking a bit dissatisfied, "I had plans to visit while you and your little friends were scattered across Midgard," Natasha pulled it across the table, pulling it open and staring wide-eyed at the pages inside, "but, when I heard that the Avengers were all in town, I decided that wasting my precious time on all of you wouldn't serve any real benefit."

"So you chose me," she replied, clutching the papers tightly. "Why? And how did you get our dossiers?"

"I like games, Agent Romanoff," Loki said. "And I decided that, as you were the first of the Avengers to run across me, you would be the most important piece on the board."

The way he talked made it seem as though this were a game of chess. It made her sick, realizing that the most important piece in the game was the queen.

"What about Thor?"

He seemed to flinch at that, his lip curling in disgust. "What of him?"

"Why wouldn't you choose your brother instead of me?"

"He is not my brother."

"That's not what he told us."

"He is a fool."

"Oh, and coming back here makes you brilliant, does it?"

Loki grimaced, seeming to have grown tired of her back-and-forth. But, to Natasha's satisfaction, he'd allowed himself to be bothered by mention of Thor.

Maybe he needed a goddamn Midol.

"What is the Casket of Ancient Winters?" she demanded.

He appeared taken aback, his knit brow coming undone in a look of genuine surprise. "The what?"

"Don't play coy. I... We all know you're here, and that you're up to something. Don't think you can get away with it."

She cursed herself for that last bit, that knowing smirk of his returning as he replied, "I don't think, Agent Romanoff. I know."

"Yeah, can't wait to see how that works out for you."

The chair scraped against the floor again, the trickster god taking a stand. "It would seem I've no more time to spend on you." Loki turned towards the door, looking back at her for but a moment. "You may inform your little Avengers of my presence, if you wish. Though I doubt that, even with their help, you'll uncover anything of real significance."

As he stepped outside, Natasha bolted after him.

"At least, not until it's grown too late."

Sound from the street filled her ears then, the chime of the door going off as an elderly couple stepped inside, excusing themselves and winding their way around her. Natasha stood by the door in shock, peering out the windows in hopes that she might catch Loki hurrying off into the midst of some crowd.

"Hey, Nat." Clint appeared behind her, two coffee cups in his hands. "What's wrong?"

Natasha looked him over for a minute before taking one from him, shaking her head.

"Nothing," she said quietly. "Let's go home."