Loki felt a ridged, hard object pressing firmly into his knee, sliding downwards by a mere millimeter, due to the involuntary tremors of his leg. Natasha's teeth were gritted to the point where she felt as if her bicuspids would be ground to a fine powder. Her jaw muscles ached with a pressing desire for release.
The gun that she was currently holding precariously to his knee was hidden by the drooping table cloth sprawled over the table, which dutifully concealed her threat.
They said nothing to each other, but solidified an unbreakable gaze, peering into the inky depths of one another's pupils, as if they were a gateway to the soul. Messages were exchanged between the two without a single word uttered. Loki then detached his upper lip from the curve of his lower, breathing in deeply, prepared to unleash a verbal torrent that would coerce her into releasing the weapon. As she raised her eyebrow in a subtle fashion, they both heard a warm voice slither into the vacuous spaces of their mute conversation.
"Hi! What would you like to order?" the waiter hummed, the point of his pen pressed into his notepad, ready to collect their orders.
"The sea urchin uni and yellowtail platter, with a side of brown rice and egg rolls. To drink, I would love Absolut," Natasha said, her lips spreading into a welcoming smile, which was quite the paradox to her surreptitious actions beneath the tablecloth.
"I would like…the tuna magaro, and octopus tako. For a drink, I'd like absinthe, on the rocks, please," Loki chimed in, his eyes drifting from Natasha's for a trice.
The waiter voiced his thanks, and then collected the menus. As he walked away, Natasha turned back to her duty with Loki.
"You know what my next question is going to be, don't you?" she asked, tilting her head slightly, drinking in the inevitability of Loki's changing expression.
"Of course. It does not mean I shall answer it," Loki chuckled, clasping his hands together on the table.
Natasha ground the tip of the gun with more force into Loki's knee, which did not provoke even a soupcon of a wince from his part.
"Would you really pull the trigger?" he purred. "Not only would you make an unfortunate scene, but, I have the fair feeling that Thor would-"
"Don't pull that card on me," Natasha interrupted, her eyes unwavering. "Because, one, I do not give a single fuck if I cause a scene. You are a war criminal, that has become well acquainted with the New York City police department. It wouldn't matter that I initiated the violence, because all fingers would immediately point at you. Two, Thor has been fed up with your behavior, and as long as I don't kill you, I'm sure that he wouldn't shed too many tears."
"Well-" Loki started, but Natasha cut him off once more.
"I have no goddamn problem with blowing your knee-cap sky high, I swear to-"
"Clint is unharmed," Loki snapped, his voice much louder than necessary, but, still unheard amongst the droning chatter of the surrounding people.
"Elaborate," Natasha said, growing exceedingly frustrated. "Don't give me this vague-ass shit."
"I did not touch a single hair upon the man's head."
"If so, then why the hell are you sitting across from me, and not him?"
"It was his desire."
"It was his desire? You mean to say, that Clint, who vehemently hates you, ditched our dinner date, in favor for you to replace him?"
"That is correct."
"Do you think I'm retarded?"
In response to Natasha's question, a chorus rang out, shouting, "Gooooooood Morning! Ba-ba-ba-dum-dum dum. Ah-ha hum! Hum ha-ha." Loki was confused where the source of the vulgar noise was emanating from. He then saw Natasha rooting through a miniature handbag with her free hand. She pulled out a memorable Midgardian contraption, and tapped at it with her thumb nail. Her eyes widened considerably, and she immediately squashed the cell phone to her ear.
"What's going on?" she said, matter-of-factly.
"Uh-huh," she then said, her eyes flitting up to meet Loki's. "No…are you fucking serious? Is this some kind of a joke? Why didn't you tell me beforehand at least?" She spat out the questions with fervor, drumming her fingers on the counter-top.
Loki felt the gun barrel slide away from his vulnerable knee, and stretched out his cramped leg. Natasha placed the slick gun into her lap, and resumed her phone conversation. Loki raised his eyebrows, smirking, and immediately knew who she was talking to. The plan had seemed futile at the beginning of the day, but now, the pieces were all falling into place.
"Right. Whatever. Bye," Natasha said, curtly, and slid her phone shut. She dropped it into her purse, pinched the clasp closed, and threw it to the other end of the long seat with reckless abandon. She ran her fingers through her slightly disheveled hair, and focused on bringing her respiratory levels back to normal.
Jesus Christ.
For a moment there, she had thought that Clint had been compromised- again. But no, he had called her to say that Fury ordered him to play a twisted sort of matchmaker to reunite Loki and Natasha, as they were long lost lovers.
Natasha thought that was utter and complete bullshit, as she and Loki were not even friends in any way, shape, or form. They went through one mission, which was successful (surprisingly), but ended in such an unpleasant way, that Natasha couldn't help but think of Loki with umbrage.
Anyway, Clint did not sound remotely angry over the phone, which was odd, considering his fragile relationship with the fallen god. Instead, he had been nonchalant, as though he was ordering a pizza, and asking Natasha what toppings she'd like. She had to get to the bottom of this, as everyone was acting oddly around her, and now, Clint was too.
The waiter popped by again at this time, and plopped their drinks down in front of them. Natasha immediately pressed her lips to the top of the straw dipped in the drink, and took a hearty sip, feeling relinquished with the familiar buzz of alcohol.
"Natasha," Loki said, prompting her to spare him a passing glance.
"What?" she asked, focused on swirling the straw around the tinkering ice-cubes.
"I assume that you were talking to, ah, Clint Barton?"
"That's right."
"I wanted to talk to you."
"You could've just invited me out, like a normal person would do."
"Ahh," Loki grinned, resting his elbows on the table, and scooting closer in proximity to Natasha's face. "I know that if I did, you would have pulled out that unfortunate lever on your watch, and attempted to numb my senses once more. I felt as if this was the only way."
Natasha sighed, and pushed her drink off to the side. "What do you even want from me, Loki? What could I possibly offer you?"
Loki was silent for a moment, tracing the rim of his glass. He then said, "You're a balm to soothe fresh wounds. You would appear as a…friend."
At 'friend' , Natasha's head shot up, and she roamed Loki's face with tentative eyes, peering intensively for any signs of deceit.
"I'll explain. You see, I have nothing to preoccupy myself with on this abysmal planet. I have no purpose anymore. That has been taken brutally away from me, not only by your friends, but, by the false family I have left behind. Thor expects me to cling on to his shirt, and mime his every move, as though I'm an admiring child by his mother's side. I cannot stand that. I know he only keeps watch on me for Odin's sake. I am the unnecessary burden for the royal Asgard family."
He swallowed, and continued, "Although you may have gained the upper hand in the floating fortress in the sky, although you are volatile at times, quick to incinerate, you do not anger me as much as the other human beings on this planet. Your past intrigues me, your present does as well…if you were given a position of supreme power, you could change the vulnerability of your planet."
"Are you using me to gain your powers back? To turn me into your sycophant, to transact orders for you, like how Clint and Selvig were forced to do? It doesn't make sense, Loki."
"I have no purpose for that anymore. My feat was in vain, and now-"
"And now, you're meddling in my affairs, because you think it's fun."
Loki slammed his fist down on the table, causing the glasses on the surface to shake violently, threatening to spill over. "Damn it, woman, why can you not see that I am being sincere? I have practically bled my emotions all over this table, all for you to see and shred apart."
"Why would you want me to do that to you? Meddling in affairs and emotions are things that should be done when they're needed, not on a daily basis. And, Loki… you really think I'd accept you with open arms after what you said about Anna?"
Loki's eyes shifted, and he licked his lips, in what appeared to be an act of nervousness, but, for him, in a different way. "I am sorry for what I said about Anna. I simply wanted a reaction from you."
"See, that's why I can't associate myself with people like you, Loki," Natasha pointed out. "You thrive on making people miserable."
"I do not. I thrive on making mischief, to wear thin peoples' patience. Maybe once I yearned to create misery, but, that has been forsaken."
Again, the waiter broke through the permeable bubble that surrounded them, and carefully placed their sushi on the table. Natasha immediately dug in, lifting a piece of sushi with her chopsticks.
Loki watched her dissect her food in a sort of annoyed fascination. He had basically laid his heart out on the line, something that only fools did, that only cowards dared breach. He was the God of Lies, weaver of the complex, and Natasha was the corresponding goddess. It disturbed him greatly that she was angry with him over something that did not happen, that was fabricated by the people who trained her to be like this. It was a life that Loki wanted to learn more about, he wanted to scrape away the layers that enveloped her, and peer into the vast library of her brain. He'd crack open every book, every page to comprehend what had been done to her, and why.
Unfortunately, now was not the time to invade her thoughts, as she was endlessly devoted to the mélange of colorful food that had been brought before her.
His own food was left neglected, a gelatinous blob of burnt orange splayed on a bed of sticky rice, which seemed attractive in the titular sense, but not aesthetically. He picked at it with two slender wooden sticks that the waiter fished out from his pocket. It was some sort of utensil that he had never seen before, and he was unsure of how to exactly use it. He struggled to maintain hold on one of the pieces of fish, as it was slippery, but finally managed to do so. He gingerly took a nip of the dark, rose colored wave, rolling the squishy bit around his mouth, his taste-buds unsure whether or not they appreciated the novice morsel. On the plate was a globe of yellow-green paste, which had partly smeared on a piece of sushi leaning against it. He lifted the entire thing with the sticks and positioned it by his mouth, preparing to swallow it whole.
"Umm, Loki-" Natasha started, staring at the green substance smeared on the chopstick.
"Yes?" He said, with a slight tint of animosity.
"Never mind, carry on," she replied, stuffing her mouth with a forkful of rice.
He shrugged, and scraped the substance onto the persimmon ridges of his tongue. It was pasty, and tasted a bit like mustard. Suddenly, he felt the sides of his mouth prickle, and he furrowed his brow in confusion. Natasha looked up to see Loki take on a rather peculiar expression, and then his eyes bulged wide open, dripping with involuntary tears. A red flush swam into his face, and he immediately spat out the revolting blob into a napkin, and he yelled, "What the hell was that?!"
Natasha burst out laughing, covering her mouth at Loki's hilarious (and completely expected) reaction to the wasabi. She had considered warning him about the potency of the stuff, but decided to stoop to a lower level to revel in his outrageous expression.
Loki grasped his drinking glass with a desperate hand, tipping his head back. Unfortunately, one solitary drop slid down his screaming throat, and he slammed it back on the table. Natasha's glass was half-full, and so, he reached for it, but Natasha wrapped her hand around his, truncating his futile effort. She squeezed his fingers tightly, as she shook her head. "No, no, Loki," she laughed, shaking her head.
"Woman, I need a drink now," he growled, but all she did was laugh at him. The pure nerve. He then decided to play a little game, one that was clouded with filth, but fun, nonetheless. He stroked his thumb against the soft skin of her hand, his long fingers squeezing hers without restraint.
"What are you doing, Loki?" Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow at him, but not removing her hand from the odd situation.
"Oh, you know," he started, leaning his face towards hers, basking in the awkward glow. He suddenly snatched her drink with his free hand, and poured the contents down his throat, his mouth momentarily soothed of the scorching effects from that dastardly specimen. He detached his hand from hers, smiling.
She slowly clapped her hands, never breaking her gaze with Loki. "Very nice, I'll applaud you for that." She then stood up, stringing the slim handle of her purse within the spaces of her supple fingers.
"Where are you going?!"
"Somewhere."
"If I am correct, don't we have to pay for our meal?" Loki asked, bewildered at Natasha's sudden actions.
"Well yeah, I just have to use the bathroom. I'll be right back," she said, and sauntered out of the area.
He leaned back, and sighed, his mouth still partially on fire, and his being weary from the constant hostile interactions with the little spider. His apology for blurting that statement about Anna might as well have been left unsaid, as it had absolutely no effect on Natasha whatsoever. He did not know why he even bothered to appeal to her senses, to smooth out the infractions he had created. It would be all in vain. Women in general were of the difficult sort, as he had learned back in Asgard. To scorn a woman was as easy as snapping your fingers. Just one slightly menacing comment, and all of a sudden, you'd face the full-blown wrath of her, who would put a dragon's fiery breath to shame.
Loki looked around, peering for any sight of Natasha. Shouldn't she be back by now? Exactly how long did it take for her to use the bathroom?!
After an excruciating amount of time, he realized that she, in Midgardian terms, had 'ditched him.' That woman... He pushed himself away from the table, prepared to find her and let her know exactly what he thought of her blatant disrespect. However, he was caught by the blasted waiter, who stopped him in his tracks.
"Yes?" Loki snapped, narrowing his eyes at the idiotic mortal, who wore a simper on his moronic, pink face.
"Would you like the check now?"
"The check?"
"Yes..." the waiter said, looking at Loki oddly. "Your friend left here, and said you'd be taking care of it." He grimaced slightly, feeling badly for Loki, who he assumed was ditched by his date.
Oh, no. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Loki suddenly hated Natasha for placing him in his predicament. How DARE she. He'd show her, even though he didn't have his powers, he'd pound her to a bloody pulp.
"Very well then," Loki said stiffly, wincing internally at the forced tone of his voice.
He swung back into the booth seat, and rummaged through his pockets to see if he had any change. He pulled out a hundred dollar banknote, and sighed with relief, the tension in his shoulders sagging. He had been tricked once more by the spider, but, he took satisfaction in the fact that he knew something about her, that she did not remember. That knowledge calmed the insatiable beast inside of him, that longed to tear through Natasha's flesh, like the flimsiest of papers. The waiter brought the check, which ended up being $80.00. He had a surplus amount, and would have to wait more for the waiter to bring the money back. Loki however, decided that while the fellow did not deserve the tip in any way, he was in too much of a hurry. He folded the hundred dollar bill into four quadrants, and tucked it into the translucent pocket in the checkbook. Standing up, he smoothed out a microscopic wrinkle in his ebony suit, and strut out of the place, his head held high.
He waved a farewell to the blushing receptionist, who glowed with happiness when he acknowledged her existence. Mortals, he thought, sinisterly. As he approached the rectangular box that contained the exit, he noticed that a downpour had begun, and streams of rain trickled down the double doors that lead to the exit. He hoped Natasha had found a taxi, as walking home in the thundering spats of ice-cold rain was never a good time. As he stepped outside, he noticed a couple squeezed under an umbrella, peering outwards for a sign of a taxi. Looking around, he noticed a small figure balancing on the crooked line of the curb, rocking back and forth on unstable feet. Could it be…
No, no, it wasn't her. On closer inspection, it was actually a man with a scruffy beard, who had quite the girlish behind.
Awkward.
Loki was assaulted by choleric waves of stinging rain, which shot into his exposed face, and glued his dark hair to his neck. His shoes soon filled with water, which produced a quite unpleasant sensation within his feet, which were clad in itchy socks. He began to walk, wishing he had an umbrella, or a taxi, or anything at all. This was misery. He was a prince. To be caught in this torrential downpour like some meager peasant was downright insulting, and he internally cursed Natasha for leaving him in this state. He cursed Odin for banishing him to this mercurial planet, and he cursed Thor for trying to glue him with Natasha, who could have been reassuring in this time, but was ultimately just like the rest of her moronic friends.
Down the street was a cafe with a scarlet overhang, and he saw a familiar shadow pass underneath it, and start in his direction. No, no it couldn't be...
She was probably long gone, back in the predominant safety of Stark Towers, bundled in a cumbersome wool blanket, sipping a flask of hot tea...
"LOKI."
Loki could have swore that he heard his name, but immediately shoved that thought aside. The bitter cold, induced by the rain, had coated his vulnerable bones, and his teeth were chattering so violently he thought they'd break.
"LOKI."
The voice was increasingly louder, and Loki suddenly knew that it could not be a figment of his imagination. The figurine, huddled, crouched over, masked in the blinding darkness of night, was running towards him, faster. He slowed and stopped, the rain forcing his eyes to almost close, blinking at the torment of the water leaking into his eyes.
The figure became clearer now.
It was Natasha, and she came into his focus. She stopped in front of him, panting slightly, dangling her high heels in one hand. Her dampened face, sticky with melting remnants of dissolving makeup, was impassive. He stared at her, incredulous. Was she just as insane as he was? His now stringy hair tangled with his eyelashes, and he shoved it to the side.
"What are you doing?" he asked her, gesturing with his hand to show the blinding fury of the weather.
She shrugged. "I felt bad."
"You didn't seem to feel that way when you left me to cover the bill back there!" He shouted.
"I was angry, you were being an ass!"
"I was NOT being an ass! I was attempting to be on the charismatic side, actually!"
"Well, you failed," she lied.
"If I failed, then why the hell are you running through the rain like some brain-dead quim?!"
"I wasn't sure if you could pay the bill," she admitted. "Two wrongs don't make a right."
"Oh...well, then why are your shoes off?" He said, pointing out that.
"I tripped running back here," she confessed, her cheeks awash in violet.
"I truly am sorry for what I said about your sister," he blurted.
Natasha stopped rocking on the balls of her feet, and stood still.
"It was uncalled for," he continued, "You have a right to be angry, but, apologies have never been my strong suit. I say irritating things, insulting things...it's my nature. It's no excuse."
"That's all you needed to say," Natasha said, turning back to face him. A drop of water dangled from his earlobe, and then dissolved into his saturated suit jacket.
He looked down at the ground, unexpectedly pleased at her response. But then he said, "I did apologize to you in the restaurant."
"I wasn't buying it. I've thought about all that you've said. And, yes, what you said was horrible, and sometimes I wonder if you even have a pinch of empathy for anybody." To add to the effect, she made a pinching motion with her index finger and thumb. "But I've never heard you say sorry for anything you've done sincerely. To finally hear it…it almost seems like you regret what you said."
"I do regret what I said," he argued. "You're the only companion I have on this planet."
She was silent for a mere second, and then said, "Your company is nice when you're not being an asshole."
That was the extent of their expressed sentiments towards each other, and they almost instantly felt awkward. Loki let out a blip of nervous laughter, which made Natasha laugh as well.
"Y'know, this isn't the best place to have a conversation," she laughed, pointing out the obvious. They probably both had fetched colds, from their prolonged conversation in the rain, which would have been better held in a considerably drier place.
"Good point," Loki said, "Should we wait under that overhang for a taxi?"
"Nah, I'm too impatient. We're already drenched, so let's just walk back. It isn't far."
Loki agreed, and they walked off together, sloshing through the various puddles gracing the surface of the cracked sidewalk.
~Four hours earlier~
Loki had felt a sort of mad surge coursing through his body on a daily basis, much like the recurring sexual frustration of a teenager, but ten times in its severity. His world revolved around meddling with affairs, and tinkering with their inner dynamics, until each party involved reached their quota. Since he had arrived on Midgard, he had been forced to a theatrical level of subjugation, obeying whatever the blasted Avengers told him to do, and 'behaving' to a certain extent. Of course, mental breakdowns were his signature, and his slight one the past night was an example of that. Luckily, only Thor had fetched him from the toilet he had marked as his resting place earlier, and no one else. Thor did not mention whether or not he had company, and Loki took it to safely assume that he was telling the truth. After all, if another person had witnessed his tragic stance in the bathroom, he would surely not ever hear the end of it, but since the Avengers were dutifully silent, he was reassured.
Anyway, Loki had been searching of an idea for some sort of bland amusement…and when he had heard about the little date between the spider and her avian companion, he wanted nothing more than to mess with the evening, seeing as Natasha and Clint's relationship was a sore subject.
Earlier in the day, Thor had told Loki that he should make 'amends' with Natasha, and actually escorted him to her doorway, standing with crossed arms, nodding at Loki to take the step and apologize to her, although that was not Loki's forte. He eventually assented, and was surprised to find that the door was unlocked- odd, especially due to Natasha's nature.
Loki closed the door on his brother, saying that he wanted some privacy, as public declarations weren't his style. Thor agreed, walking away, but warning that he'd be waiting down the hallway in case Loki decided to make an escape.
Loki perused the bedroom, noting a lump in the chiffon blankets, and traipsed over to the bed, where he gently prodded the lump with a finger, hoping to initiate a fearful reaction from Natasha. However, all he encountered was a sinking, soft feeling- way too soft to be a human, and Loki tore open the bed sheet, revealing a misleading pillow. He then turned around, and saw steam wafting from beneath a different doorway, one that must lead to the bathroom. The little spider must be taking a shower. The thought of that played out several fantasies in Loki's head, and he managed to shut them down quickly, shaking his head, and pressing his fingers to the sides of his nose.
After readjusting the bed-sheets, he turned away, meaning to return at a later hour, but a rectangular metal device resting on-top of a mahogany dresser in the room caught his eye. He picked up the contraption, and it flashed on, revealing the time written in a blinding ivory color, with a picture of an orange flower set as the background.
A cell-phone, Loki thought, remembering the Midgardian term for the contraption. As he was staring at the screen in a blank sort of fascination, a small box popped up, that read:
New Text
View Now View Later
Loki scrunched his eyebrows, and looked up at the bathroom door. He could still hear the hiss from the shower, meaning that she was still preoccupied with cleansing. He had time, and, his curiosity could not be contained. As he hit 'view now' with his thumb, the message was revealed, from none other than Clint Barton.
More than excited for sushi tonight!
He rolled his eyes, but before he could do anything else, the phone made another annoying 'ping' sound once more. This time, the new incoming message read,
Dude, Stark has a ping-pong table thing on floor 7, want 2 join?
Loki smirked, adopting a new plan. He suddenly heard the tap shut off in the bathroom, and the sound of a door slamming shut.
Fuck.
He quickly set the phone down on the counter-top, and accidentally dropped it into the jutting, open drawer in the dresser.
The blow-dryer screeched on in the opposite room, and Loki assumed that he had approximately ten seconds to get the rest of his snooping done. As he picked the phone up, the incoming message was still flashing. A button on the side read: delete. He tapped it, and immediately, a small trashcan icon popped up, swallowing a miniscule envelope. The screen then flashed 'message deleted.' He decided to erase the other text message as well, and managed to do so. He felt a small amount of pride for managing to triumph over this strange Midgardian gadget. But hey, if his bumbling brute of a brother could do it, so could he.
He then fled the room, turning the doorknob carefully, as to make as little sound as possible when closing it. Thor was still waiting at the other end of the hallway, his head tilted up, studying the ceiling. He didn't notice Loki until he was right next to him, poking his shoulder.
"Ahh! Loki!" Thor said, a bit put off-guard.
"Ahh! Thor!" Loki smirked, mocking his brother's shocked statement.
"Did you manage to talk to Lady Natasha?" Thor asked, yawning.
"No," Loki answered honestly. "She was taking a shower, I believe. I left because I did not want to disturb her."
"Well, brother," Thor chuckled, "It appears as though you have some gentlemanly qualities after all."
"It has nothing to do with being a gentleman," he said, "I simply did not want to wait. I have no patience."
"You mean the fact that she was un-robed, and would have been quite frightened of your intruding presence, does not irk you in any way?" Thor asked, incredulous.
Loki shrugged. In truth, he would not want to impose on her privacy in that way, no matter how succulent she may seem…
He shook his head to clear himself of those perverse thoughts. But, he quite enjoyed messing with Thor in this way, provoking some sort of reaction from him…
"I cannot believe you brother," Thor said, not even bothering to look at Loki.
"I wish to head back to my room," Loki sneered, tired of Thor's company.
"By all means, go," Thor replied, waving his hand at Loki.
Loki quickly departed. But, instead of making his way back to the solitude of his room, he decided to pay a visit to the seventh floor.
That floor appeared strictly to be some sort of gaming area, Loki noticed. Boxes molded into strange geometric shapes flashed 'Press coin to play' from the clear screens that were embedded into the front of each of the strange devices. A glowing sign from above read, 'Arcade.' The room was dark, illuminated only by the revolving lights projecting from the odd objects. Loki saw a vanilla colored door at the opposite side of the room, and walked over to open it.
As soon as he did, he saw a tennis court, but, reduced to three times its size, and stood up on four straight legs. As he looked into the room, he saw Hawkeye facing the globe-shaped window in the room, looking intently at something Loki could not see. He shut the door loudly, attracting Clint's attention right away.
"Oh, hey, Tash-" Clint's word were cut off when he realized that the tall, lean man propped against the door, smirking, was not his beloved friend, but one of his despised enemies.
"I am most definitely not Tasha," Loki chuckled, shaking his head at Clint.
"What the HELL are you doing here!" Clint yelled, his arm reaching behind him to make sure he had his stock of freshly-sharpened arrows.
"Ah, ah, don't do that," Loki said, holding his hands up in mock-surrender. "That wouldn't be right. I am not armed."
"Oh, really," Clint snapped.
"If I was armed, I would have shot you long ago," Loki pointed out.
"Where's Natasha?"
"In her room?" Loki guessed, furrowing his brow.
Clint sighed. "Why are you even here? I doubt that you came down here to play a game of ping-pong."
"You've got that right," Loki said, smiling.
"You know…" said Clint, stepping forward, "What did you do to Natasha over the trip that has made her this pissed off? I mean, hell, you're not exactly the funnest guy to be around, but getting her truly riled up is pretty hard, unless you know the right buttons to push."
"Well, apparently I did know the right buttons to push, then," Loki said, resting his palms on one of the ping-pong tables.
"What did you say to her?" Clint asked, his voice dropping to a baritone.
"I made a simple comment that referred to when she brutally murdered her sister," Loki said, embellishing just a tad.
To Loki's surprise, Clint just looked baffled, and he squinted at Loki. "Uh…are you high?"
Loki tilted his head a bit to the side, staring presumptuously at the odd human. "Well, not really, there are what, thirty floors in the building, and we are only on level seven," he reasoned.
"Well…" Clint rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes shifting upwards. He finally looked up at Loki, his lips pursed. "If this is some kind of joke, if you made up some random shit about some dead bitch just to get Natasha heated up-"
"I have absolutely no idea what you're babbling about," Loki interrupted, fuming internally at the mortal's everlasting charade.
Clint was about ready to seep the serrated edge of an arrow into Loki's iris, but, he took a moment to let Loki's words sink in. He realized that he would have to clarify exactly what was going on, as to avoid any unnecessary misunderstandings. "Explain to me what exactly Natasha told you," Clint demanded.
"She gave me quite a murky account about the death of her sister, who was named Anna. She said that she was involved in some sort of hospital fire, and that she went to go save her sister, she ended up dropping her down a fire escape due to a serum change?" When Loki was finished speaking, he realized that the flow of his sentences were strewn all over the place, and the actual story was not very coherent.
"Loki…" Clint said, rubbing his temples, now trying to rid himself of the impending migraine. The story did not ring a single bell in his mind, and he realized, with inevitable sorrow, just how badly the Red Room messed with the fine wires of Natasha's mind. Clint stepped forward, once, and met Loki's eyes, which were brimming with curiosity.
Finally, Clint spoke. "Loki…" he said, quietly,
"Natasha doesn't have a sister."
Author's note:
Whoa. I originally thought of posting the segment of Loki discovering that Natasha doesn't have a sister at the beginning of the chapter, but it sounded better at the end. I did research on the Black Widow when I started this story, so I'm not entirely clueless. We'll be finding out more about the Red Room, Natasha's real memories, the current events in Asgard, and Loki's thoughts in later chapters.
Also, it seems that they have slightly acknowledged that they're friends. Yayy. Anyway, I hope it seems plausible. If not, well...that's okay, find another story that suits your taste. This is my longest chapter yet...almost 6,000 words! Eep.
Thank you to the following people for reviewing:
DarlingDeathMachine (aka Dee-Dee)
Rose of Ice
Flycon
Mic-RNOL-Mik
You guys make my day! Thanks to my new followers, and people who favorited this story! You guys make my day.
Reviews are always appreciated!
Love you all,
skywriter23
xoxo