Chapter 7. The Goodbye


You've been the only thing that's right
In all I've done
~ "Run", Snow Patrol


"Hey Nat, did you lose a fight with your vacuum cleaner or what?"

Tony Stark laughed heartily as he poked her in the side of the neck. Natasha sat down her coffee cup sharply and brushed her hair forwards over her neck while turning and giving Tony the Evil Eye.

"Rhetorical question, love." He placated as he backed away, holding his hands up to show surrender.

"I mean, I know I'm the Albert Einstein of the twenty-first century and whatnot, but I really don't need to be a genius to figure out what you got up to last night."

He winked at her, then quickly ducked behind Captain Rodgers who had just walked in to the lounge room to avoid the pen that she had flung at his head.

"Nuttier than a fruitcake, that one." He muttered to Steve, then hurriedly danced out of the room with a giggle to avoid her wrath.

Natasha huffed in anger and turned her attention back to the blueprints of the cartel's warehouse that she was studying, she heard Captain America chuckle behind her. She gave him a sharp look over her shoulder.

"Not you too." She rolled her eyes and faced the maps again.

"No, no." Steve denied as he joined her in poring over the papers.

"What you get up to in your spare time is strictly between you and Barton, and frankly I think Stark's behaviour is–"

Natasha cut him off with a surprised look. "What?"

Steve backtracked. "No, I didn't mean to offend. I actually think it's nice what you two have, it's good to see two people..."

But Natasha had already tuned him out. People thought she'd had sex with Clint.

'Oh shit' Natasha thought to herself.

Well, that at least explained that odd situation earlier where Clint had walked into the common room, took one look at her, and walked straight back out. He had been avoiding her like the plague all day. Which was hard to do when you lived and worked together.

Natasha hurried out of the room, calling a distracted "Sorry, gotta run." over her shoulder to a very confused Steve.

She strode down the halls purposefully, taking the stairs to the upper levels of Stark Tower, the heels of her black boots clicking as she searched. As she passed the door to the firing range, Natasha heard the twang of a bow and knew it would be Clint.

She should have known he would be here. They both felt the urge to train when they needed to blow off steam. Though normally, his stress wasn't caused by her.

Natasha pushed open the door cautiously to see Clint fire another arrow into a bullseye. He didn't acknowledge her presence even as she walked up to stand beside him, he simply plucked another arrow from his quiver and drew it.

"Clint..." she started softly, but the sharp sound of him releasing the arrow made her flinch.

She paused, waiting for him to say something. He lowered his bow, staring at the curved weapon in his hands for a few moments before finally turning to her.

The look in his eyes made a strange feeling crash over her. She realised it was guilt.

"So, who is he?"

His blue eyes bore into hers for a moment, before turning back to the target and stringing another arrow.

She shook her head, "It's not like that Clint, Fury gave me a mission."

Clint snorted as he released the arrow with a twang.

Bullseye, of course.

"And has Fury seen you? Seen what your little mission did to you?"

He gestured at the deep bruise on her neck. She crossed her arms, beginning to get a little annoyed at the way he was babying her.

"Clint, we've had far worse injuries with this, and you know this is not the first time I've done this type of mission, nor will it be the last. It's why they send me, it's what I'm good at. We may not always like it but orders are orders, and everything we do is for the greater good, you know that."

She spun on her heel and left him looking appropriately chastised. He was a little jealous but he'd come round, he always did.

.

·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·∫·

.

Natasha headed back to her room for a shower after her training session in the Stark gym. Clint had been going over the communications from the bugs they had planted in Sawfford's house a few weeks ago, but she had found it a little awkward standing there listening with him, so had decided instead to see if she could punch the guilt out of her system.

Natasha wearily pushed open her bedroom door, only to be greeted by a handsome god, legs crossed, looking quite at home on her couch.

She ignored him and walked past him to grab the bottle of water that sat on her coffee table. She suddenly felt his presence behind her, his breath tickled the tiny hairs on the back of her neck and she closed her eyes as she felt his cool fingers ghost over the bruise on her neck that he had given her.

She tilted her head to the side to give him easier access as his fingers trailed lower, to the healing bite mark on her shoulder.

His hands fluttered down her sides and came to rest on her hips. He dragged the hem of her shirt up slightly and she knew he could see the deep purple bruises where he'd held her too tight.

She turned to face him, and frowned in confusion when she thought she saw sorrow and guilt his large, green eyes.

Loki reached up and smoothed the puzzled frown that marred her forehead with his thumb. He brushed a strand of fiery hair behind her ear with graceful fingers. His silence was making Natasha nervous. After a few more moments, the quiet became far too loud.

"Is something wrong?" Though she lowered her voice, the question still sounded harsh to Natasha's ears.

A slight smile graced Loki's lips, though it was melancholy and forlorn.

"I'm afraid I will not be able to see you for a little while."

His hand dropped from her face and he turned away from her. Natasha scowled at herself for missing his touch.

"Why? Are you going somewhere?" She asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

Natasha noticed a slight frown creasing his perfect features.

"I cannot say." He replied mysteriously, and strode away from her and towards the window, hands clasped behind his back as if deep in thought.

She followed him to the floor-to-ceiling view of the city and he turned to face her, the frown now gone and his face far softer.

A month ago, Natasha would never have thought that the God of Mischief and Lies was capable of anything other than creating chaos. He had killed so many people and destroyed half of New York, not to mention tried to kill her and her teammates. And yet, the way he was looking at her now...

Natasha had recognised that Loki was attractive, even when she was fighting him. But she hadn't realised how beautiful he was.

His cheekbones were as sharp as if Michelangelo had just carved them himself, his skin pale and translucent, soft as a newborn. He towered above her and above everyone else in the Avenger team for that matter, with the possible exception of Thor. His body was lean and perfectly muscled, filled with a power that she had experienced firsthand. She loved the feel of his silky, smooth black hair on her skin, and oh, those eyes!

Natasha could see all too clearly how he could have been considered a god.

Natasha wondered if all gods were this beautiful, and a sudden stab of jealousy surprised her as she pictured how attractive the women of Asgard must be.

Loki took a step closer, interrupting her rambling thoughts.

"I merely came to give you something."

And before she could blink, Loki's lips crashed against hers, shattering any chance she had of stringing her thoughts together in her mind.

It was not at all fierce and passionate, the way she had imagined their first kiss would be, but instead it was gentle and soft, cool and reassuring.

Their mouths melded and his lips encased hers, his hand sliding from her cheek to cradle the back of her head. She melted into him, her body pressing up against his.

Engulfed by the heady passion of his kiss, she slid her hands over his shoulders, wrapping her arms around his neck and tangling her fingers in his silky hair, surprised that he was allowing her to touch him so intimately.

She couldn't tell if it was the cold of his body or the heat of his kiss that caused shivers to run down her spine and fire to pool in her chest. A tingling sensation spread to every part of her body as his cool tongue swooped over hers. Natasha's toes curled involuntarily in her boots, she never wanted this feeling to end. But all too soon he pulled away.

"I have to go." He whispered.

She opened her mouth to protest but before she could say a word, he was gone.

Natasha suddenly felt weak at the knees and had to plop down on the couch to keep from falling over.

She touched her fingers to her lips. They still tingled with the sweetness of his kiss.

Things were changing rapidly and she wasn't even sure what to tell Fury anymore.


A/N: Sorry this chapter's so short! And sorry I'm being so slow to update, I've been ridiculously busy the past two weeks :/ after this weekend though should be back to normal :) I'm turning 21! :D