Chapter 4
Up to No Good
"No one would talk much in society if they knew how often they misunderstood others."
-Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
A nearly imperceptible breeze swept through the room, and Natasha stirred slightly, but merely brushed a stray wave of hair away from her face and continued to slumber. The rising and falling of her chest was even and slow, and another puff of cool air eddied among the deep red waves of her hair as the sound of quiet breathing gradually was heard.
Loki materialized with a swift movement, but only for a moment before vanishing again, his soft footfalls and careful breathing alone proclaiming his presence in the room.
He slowly approached where she lay and lifted a finger to trace the branching tiny blue veins on the underside of her pale wrist when suddenly Natasha sat bolt upright, grabbed her automatic and fired a volley of shots about the room. Loki remained motionless where he stood and shut his eyes, preparing to transport himself from the chamber, when the door emitted a click and began to open.
Now on her feet, Natasha aimed for the gradually widening crack and hissed, "Stop right there."
"Nat, it's me, Clint."
"Clint." She sighed, and lowered her gun, slipping the safety back on and stowing it under her pillow. "I thought I changed my pass-code."
"You did. What's going on? I heard shots."
"Nothing."
He sat down on the edge of her bed, and Loki stepped slowly away from the scene, leaning against the wall, secure in his invisibility, and daring to watch a moment longer, his eyes narrowed.
"Nothing." Clint flopped back, as Natasha sat next to him, staring straight ahead into the darkness. "You were shooting at nothing. Well, I can believe that. What did you think you were shooting at?" He sat up, and leaned his elbows on his knees, rubbing a hand over his face. "Nightmares?"
"You know better than to make fun of me."
"I don't know how bad they get. All I know is what I heard when we used to bunk together. And it didn't sound like something to make fun of."
"Just go back to bed, Barton," Natasha sighed, flopping back in her turn. "I thought you were out, anyway."
"Just got back. Lucky thing, too, just in case you needed me."
"How many times have I told you to stop looking out for me?"
Clint sighed. "A bunch. But it doesn't stop me from doing it. Just admit, you secretly like it."
Loki had seen enough. In a moment he opened his eyes and found himself in his own chamber, down the hall. After waving a hand before the lock mechanism to enchant it against intrusion, he paced quickly for a moment or two, and then began to hurriedly remove his outerwear for sleep. When he was down to a simple tunic he stepped out of his boots and slid into bed, a small line appearing between his brows.
You can do this, he told himself. Turning onto his side and pushing his hand up underneath his pillow, Loki shut his eyes and prepared for sleep. Amongst the various demons that plagued the god of mischief's slumbers, one reigned triumphant – a figure clad in black with hair the color of fire, blazing eyes, and some sort of weapon pointed at everyone around her... everyone but him.
In the morning Loki emerged from showering with a towel tucked about his waist and carefully parted his dark hair before the mirror, slicking it down with a comb and tucking it behind his ears. He dressed with especial care and stood a long moment staring into nothingness it seemed, but in reality he was sounding out the situation in the other rooms of Stark Tower and taking inventory of the team's various thoughts and actions. Not too bad for a Saturday morning, he thought.
Opening the door to his room, he resisted the urge to smile at his timing. Striding down the hallway ahead of him was the fearsome Black Widow herself, barefoot, clad in gray sweatpants and a black tshirt, and carrying a pair of athletic shoes.
"Up so early?" Loki said, pitching his voice just loud enough for her to hear. She turned. Without a bit of makeup on, she looked decidedly younger, but nonetheless beautiful. And still potentially fatal, Loki reminded himself.
She stood in one place and allowed him to overtake her and they made their way toward the gym together. "I might ask the same of you," she said at last.
"I never sleep late," admitted Loki, giving her a quick smile. "The sun is up, so no reason why I shouldn't be as well."
"Exactly what I think. Although I can't say I vanish when the moon rises."
"A bit nocturnal too?" Loki cocked a brow and received a brief smile for his efforts.
"More than a bit. I generally run on about four hours of sleep."
Loki shook his head. "Well, you beat me, then. And Thor thinks I am the crazy one."
"We're all crazy here," Natasha said, pushing open the glass door to the workout room, and holding it open for Loki to follow. "Coming in?"
"I don't mind," Loki said, ducking under her arm and catching a whiff of the scent of her soap – a foreign unnameable smell, that carried with it connotations of winter, burning sun, and cleanliness.
"Well, you'd better get to work, then. You can be here, and we can chat, but I hate people just standing around talking to me and watching me work out," Natasha said curtly.
"Oh, well I didn't really dress for –"
"Then go do what you did dress for. I'll be done in an hour and a half if you want breakfast. I've got a couple of questions for you anyway."
"Indeed?" Loki's eyebrows lifted. "Might I ask to what they pertain?"
"You can ask, but that doesn't mean I'll answer," Natasha replied, finishing taping her hands and aiming a few solid hits at the punching bag.
Loki shook his head and retreated, saying, "I actually need to talk to Thor."
The door swung shut behind him, and Natasha stopped her warm up long enough to watch him go, but the moment he looked back over his shoulder, she commenced her vicious sparring and did not stop until she had counted a hundred hits. She wasn't surprised when she looked up and saw that he was gone.
Thor laughed loudly as he read the tiny note taped to the toaster lettered in Pepper's tidy writing. Although she had Steve in mind when she made all the instructions on how to operate the kitchen appliances, Thor used them as well, although he always laughed at how detailed they were. This one read:
1. Bread is in the fridge. Make sure to seal the bag tightly when you're done.
2. Fill all four slots. Really. Don't run it with just one or two.
3. The screen on the left of the toaster (lever side) determines done-ness. Use the arrow buttons to select 1, 2, or 3.
4. Select TOAST (the green button) and press the lever down until it clicks.
5. If you need your toast to pop up for some reason before it is done, push the red button with the X on it. Don't pull up on the lever, it will break (Tony tried it).
6. Remove your toast with your hands or a wooden implement (top drawer on the right next to the fridge). Do not use a knife! Classic, but I thought I'd say it just in case. Thor could probably take the lightning, but I wouldn't try it, Captain.
7. Enjoy!
"Lady Pepper is truly a most organized woman," he chuckled, turning when someone cleared their throat softly. Loki had entered the kitchen and lingered in the doorway like an unwelcome street urchin.
"Good morning, brother." Thor greeted, grinning, and turning back to his breakfast preparations. "How did you sleep?"
"Really, I don't know why you always ask that when you know the answer very well," Loki returned, striding across the room, and folding his hands behind his back as he looked out the window.
"Suit yourself then. Who else is awake?"
"I saw Lady Natasha training a moment ago, but I didn't encounter anyone else."
Thor noticed that he said whom he encountered, not who was awake, but he didn't push it. His brother's powers were his own concern. "Does she let you call her Lady Natasha?" Thor inquired, layering his four pieces of toast with peanut butter and building a structure impressive-enough to rival Stark Tower.
"I haven't actually called her that to her face," Loki admitted, helping himself to a piece of fruit, and then returning to the window, declining Thor's gesture for him to be seated and partake with him.
"The Midgardian's food is strange, but very delicious," Thor commented, asking, "Did I ever tell you the story of the drink that I once –"
"About Lady Natasha," Loki interrupted.
Thor swallowed, and nodded. "Something concerns you?"
Loki scoffed. "She said she has questions for me. I wonder what that means. Do you think she suspects me of trying to steal the cube like everyone else does?"
"If she did, I should not be surprised. 'Tis no secret why you're here, you know."
"Did it ever occur to you that I might resent everyone always thinking I am up to no good? Did it ever occur to you to ask me what I might be here for?" Loki hissed, turning, and advancing on his brother. "Oh no, it's always 'Loki is up to his mischief again,' and 'Loki can't be trusted because once he made a mistake!" He slammed his hand down onto the tabletop, making Thor's breakfast jump, and his brother look at him evenly, replying:
"You may deceive others, but you can't deceive me." He would have continued, but Loki cut him off.
"Oh yes? And what makes you say that, pray?"
"There have been times when I have been mistaken, brother, but–"
"And there have been times when I have been mistaken!" Loki nearly screamed. His eyes blazing, he locked his gaze on Thor and whispered, "And I'm not your brother."
"I love you like a brother. I think of you as a –"
"That doesn't make it true!" Loki spat. "One day, you'll just have to face the facts, half-brother."
Thor's eyes gleamed ice blue. "You are in a foul temper this morning, Loki. Did you really have something you needed with me, or have you just come to spoil my meal?"
Loki emitted an enraged sound from deep in his throat and wheeled, stalking out of the room, calling over his shoulder "No, I just come around to spoil everything! That's what I'm here for, it is not?"
Thor sighed, and finished his food in silence, the room uncomfortably still, and ringing with Loki's words. He knew that it might not be him, but he wished there was someone who could understand Loki besides Frigga. His mother had always been his only confidante, his anchor, his solace, and his guidance. Thor had taken more to his father. But still... He may not trust him, but everyone ought be given a chance to explain himself, Thor the middle of his reverie, Steve Rogers entered the room.
"Morning, Thor," he said, pouring himself a glass of orange juice, and sitting down opposite the Asgardian.
Steve looked as if he had just come from training, clad in a sweaty t-shirt and loose-fitting gym pants. He took a drink of the juice and inhaled a deep breath.
"That's good," he said, grinning, and setting it on a paper napkin. "Something the matter?"
"My brother is in a foul mood this morning." Thor rose and deposited his plate in the sink.
"Is that unusual?" Steve asked with a sideways quirk of his mouth.
His back to Steve, Thor braced a hand on either side of the counter and leaned forward, allowing his head to droop for a brief moment. Then he straightened, pushing his light hair out of his face.
"No, it's not unusual," he replied.
"What's not unusual?" Steve turned, and knew the morning had officially begun. Tony padded into the kitchen in a bathrobe, reeking of cologne, his thick hair mussed wildly.
He helped himself to a cup of piping hot coffee, took a gulp and said, "Pepper's taking the day off, so we're going about on the town. Anyone wanna come?"
"It's Saturday – aren't most people usually off-work?" Steve asked, folding his arms. "Hi, Bruce," he greeted, as the doctor entered.
"Good morning. Am I interrupting something?" Bruce raised his eyebrows.
"Pep's hardly ever off-work," Tony began, only to be cut off by Clint, who strode into the room, behind Bruce, muttering, "That's because you're hardly ever on."
"Hey." Tony pointed a finger in the archer's direction. "You're the one who stands the most to benefit from this, anyway, Robin Hood."
Steve repressed a smile, and failing, covered his hand with his mouth.
"Why, what would I benefit from Pepper being off work?" Clint asked, pouring milk over a bowl of cereal, and stabbing in a spoon.
"The Tower is going to be free of press, security, and other boring things for twenty-four hours. All the stuff that has to be in place while work is going on. And you're the one who keeps setting off that alarm I'm beginning to wish I never had installed by going up to sleep on the roof, so –"
"Clint, you've been sleeping on the roof again?" Pepper Potts entered the room, dressed in a casual yet stylish outfit, her hair out of her way in a clip at the back of her head. "Why has that started again?"
"Sleep better up there," he muttered, taking a bite of his cereal, and shrugging. "Don't worry about it. You're the one leaving blankets, right?"
Pepper shook her head. "No, I'm the one telling you to stop being such a recluse and try to live a normal life in this nut house."
Clint blinked. Natasha. Now he really felt stupid. He'd have to call her on that one, give her the time of her life about that "stop taking care of me" line. He finished his cereal in record time as Tony expounded on his plans for the day, and began to hurriedly wash up the dishes.
"Just leave those," Pepper began, but Clint shrugged. "I don't mind. Well, I'll go with you two if I'm not going to spoil anything... er..." He rolled his eyes and pretended to grope for the word while Tony scowled.
"-Of course not."
Pepper jumped in. "Steve? Bruce? Thor?"
"Sure, I'll go."
"Why not."
"I shall as well."
"Great. Steve, will you go ask Natasha and Loki if they're busy?"
"Ooh, that came out wrong," Tony heckled, and Clint and Thor glared simultaneously.
"Have we told you to keep your opinions to yourself?" Clint asked, slamming the cupboard door closed on the clean dishes and making Pepper jump. "You make everything a joke."
"I'll stay out of this one," Steve said, rising, and excusing himself. "I'll go find Miss Natasha and Loki."
Thor exited with him, leaving Pepper to scold Stark in private, and Clint to pop him hard with the dishrag with where he knew it would hurt. His aim didn't fail.
"Ow! Pepper!" Tony yelped. "Not fair!"
"You boys play nice," Pepper remonstrated, and suddenly pulled out her phone as it began to chirp. "Hello, Phil. Yes. Oh – no, I didn't, let me..."
"Pep! Day off!" Tony mouthed. Pepper nodded and held up a finger, listening to the voice at the other end of the phone, and then pushed past Clint to grab the notepad and pencil on the counter.
"Mhmm... mhmmm. Alright, I''ll see what I can do. Do you want me to put him on the phone now?"
Tony was shaking his head violently, drawing his finger across his neck in a repetitive motion, and finally put the dishrag over his head and groaned as Pepper handed him the phone. Covering the mouthpiece, he whispered, "Remember, I hate being handed things?"
"You'll be fine." She leaned over and kissed him quickly, before the leaving the room.