Here is chapter 10!

In which there is - obviously - some training, staring and mooning and... well, maybe some people should check the back of their shirts for weird messages. ;)

Enjoy!

Chapter 10: Training

I was waiting patiently, slowly fingering the synthetic fletching of an arrow. Sure, I could have done something better than playing with arrows and stretching alone in the gym like accompanying Vanessa, who was off to give a hand to a hard-pressed Pepper Potts after having finally snapped. She was bored, she wanted to work. Tony had referred her and had said that it might keep Miss Potts out of his hair for a while.

But, call it laziness if you want, I didn't want to dig through piles of urgent papers, no matter how much I loved the material.

And if I so desperately wanted to work, there were all those lovingly complex documents that Tony had given me to translate.

"Instead," I mused as I weighted the arrow delicately balanced on the tip of my fingers, "I'm waiting for Clint so that he can teach me how to shoot properly. Who would have thought this? Alexanne De Bellefeuille, interested in another sport beside swimming."

"You're waiting for someone?"

While I had been waiting for a voice to break through the silence, I wasn't ready for this one.

I turned, closing my hand around the arrow once more. "Oh, Steve!" I smiled, tried to fight down the heat creeping in my cheeks. Not that I blushed a lot but still… "Yeah, I'm waiting for Clint. Did you see him?" I clasped my hands together behind my back, still holding the arrow lightly, and cocked my head.

Ten seconds passed and worry crept upon me. "Steve?"

He seemed to snap back to the present and blushed lightly, pink tinting his cheeks. It was really endearing. "Sorry. What did you say?"

I opened my mouth to repeat, then decided against it. "Are you okay?" I asked instead.

Steve smiled. "Yes, I am." he answered briefly before his eyes flickered down to the tape he was holding in his hands.

I tensed, wondering if he was lying.

"Hey! Careful with that, Tiger!"

Have I mentioned that Clint had such a wonderful timing?

I slacked the grip I had on the arrow and let Clint pluck it from my fingers. "Sorry. I wasn't trying to break it." I mumbled, shooting a small glance toward Steve from under my lashes.

My mouth went dry.

Holy shit!

Those muscles rolling powerfully under his shirt as he wrapped tape around his hands and gave a testing punch to his personal reinforced bag made my mind run wild for a short moment.

"Lex, you're staring." Clint said with a grin, the hand waving in front of my face snapping out of my blown thoughts.

My answer was quick. "I wasn't staring, I was thinking." Which was partly true since I had indeed been thinking. What I had been thinking about… Well, that was none of Clint's business.

"Can you teach me?" I asked the archer, pointing the arrow he held. I was totally changing the subject but hey! I wasn't trying subtlety.

He smiled warmly. "Sure." I cocked my head when his smile morphed into a smirk. "Think you're for the challenge of having Hawkeye as your teacher, Tiger?"

I rolled my eyes and snorted. "Guess I won't know if I chicken out. I'm in, Hawk. I won't best you but I'll become good, just watch me!"

"Can't wait to see that." And if that wasn't a challenge… Fine, Hawk. Teach me and we'll see how good I'll become.

Clint looked pleased by my challenging glare. "That's one of the things I like about you and Vanessa. You got some spirit." He nodded slowly to himself, then smiled again. "Let's get you a good practice bow. I'll talk Tony into making one suited for you. It might not be the bow that makes the archer but it sure helps." He then patted my head, to which I scowled. "And you're a bit short for most of the bows we have here."

"Five foot two of body and one foot of temper. I'm not small!" Okay, I was. I still hated to be reminded of it. And the fact that I couldn't wear heels higher than three inches – unless I wanted to either twist an ankle or walk as graciously as a penguin – didn't help my short stature.

Clint laughed. "I like that one. 'One foot of temper'…" He smirked, then headed to where the Avengers kept the practice weapons. He didn't see the half-glare I focused on his back.

Steve did, though, if the snort of laughter coming from his side of the gym was anything to go by. I glanced his way… and swallowed thickly when I saw the way his thin white shirt clung to his sweaty back.

Holy crap, but I was so screwed!

A bow gently tapping the side of my head made me spin around and give Clint a dark look. "You can just hand it to me, you know!" I snapped, to which the archer merely raised an eyebrow.

"You were staring. Again."

I wanted to deny it, say that I was thinking again. Instead, I shrugged and accepted the truth as it was. I had been staring. "So what?" I grumbled, taking the bow and striding toward the targets.

Clint snorted but wisely didn't answer.

*o*O*o*O*o*

The practice had been both a success – for my point of view – and a source of endless frustration. Even if Clint had been incredibly patient, I think that two full hours of bow lessons and of rectifying my position every time I aimed was enough for one day.

On his way out of the gymnasium, Clint had literally dumped me on Steve with a "Why don't you teach her how to pack a punch properly" and had left us gaping after him.

And that was why I was currently letting Steve wrap tape around my hands. I didn't like the feeling of the tape on the sensitive skin of my hands but if I focused on the way Steve was gently holding them, it wasn't so bad.

It was quite nice, in fact.

"Is it necessary?" I asked anyway when Steve let my hands go. I opened and closed them into fists, wincing at the feeling of pulled skin. It really was a weird sensation.

"It helps to protect your hands when you're not using gloves." Steve looked at me curiously. "You already used the punching bag before, didn't you?" At my short nod, he asked: "What did you use to protect your hands?"

I understood that my previous punching sessions had been made a lot more painful by my obliviousness. "Uh… Nothing? I ended up with bruised knuckles since there were no gloves and I hadn't thought about tape…" I absently rubbed said knuckles, searching for a phantom pain that wasn't there anymore since my knuckles had had time to heal since my last session with the punching bag.

Again – and I stomped mercilessly on the flicker of pleasure that lit up inside of me – Steve grasped my hands and peered at them intensely, palpating them through the tape. "You're resilient." He brushed my knuckles with his thumb, gently.

I licked my lips and tried – failed – to hide a small smirk. "Not really. They just had time to heal. Vanessa almost bit my head off the first time she saw my ripped knuckles."

Steve let out a soft amused snort, which I answered with a giggle.

I would have been happy to stay like this, but Steve suddenly noticed that he was still holding my hands and he released them before taking a step back. I let my arms fall limply by my sides and looked at him, holding back a pout and waiting for the next part.

"Tape should prevent ripped knuckles," Oh, we were still on the tape subject, "and it will force you to learn how to close your hand properly when you deliver a punch."

A little bit sceptic, I closed my hand into a fist and swung, hitting the bag solidly with my taped knuckles. It still hurt a little, but less than normally. With a slowly growing smile, I delivered another satisfying punch onto the bag, then another…

*o*O*o*O*o*

I don't know how much time I spent there, punching and kicking alternatively the bag in a pattern that could be described as some kind of dance. Steve had left me alone, apart from a few tips given here and there from time to time, and had returned to his own reinforced bag.

When I finally listened to the nerves' endings in my battered hands, I was sweating profusely, my throat felt like a desert and I was panting heavily, like a dog on a hot summer day. My muscles were hurting from overuse but damn, it felt good. I was warm, relaxed and quite satisfied with myself.

"You know how to hit." Steve had commented sometime during my battle with the punching bag. I had had a few answers on the tip of my tongue but I had kept my mouth shut and taken the comment as a compliment.

"I'm going to hit the showers." As I said this, I had to restrain my imagination from running wild about how many interesting things could be done in the shower, an awful lot of them involving the sweaty muscled guy giving a hard time to the bag in front of him… And nope! Not going down that mind path.

"Don't forget to remove the tape!"

Well, I had kind of forgotten that…

*o*O*o*O*o*

"You're mooning."

Snapping out of my daydreaming, I shot Vanessa a heated glare. "Clint says I'm staring, you say I'm mooning… Next time, what will it be? I'm drooling?" I grumbled.

"Don't get cranky when I'm just telling you a fact." Ness said.

Snorting, I turned my attention back to the book I was supposed to read, taking a sip of my coffee. Now, since Vanessa didn't like coffee, it was maybe a little cruel of me to bring her to Starbucks for our little girl-time. We would have invited Natasha and Pepper to come with us but the former was nowhere to be found and the latter still had work to do.

As if she had read my thoughts, my best friend groused: "I don't understand how you can drink that."

Since it wasn't the first time she had wondered that – and since it wasn't a question – I didn't bother with yet another explanation as to why I loved coffee.

We sat in a companionable silence for a while, mindless of the time, both engrossed in our book. I was reading a thriller while Nessie was going through some fantasy novel. She was far more engrossed in her story than I was which was probably why I saw him before she did.

Tall, pale, with perfectly coiffed raven black hair. He was wearing dark clothes against which contrasted a green and gold scarf. In his hand, he held an innocent-looking black umbrella with a gold handle. His gaze, apparently bored, swept distractedly over the buildings around but there was a light in those poison green irises that meant acute awareness.

"Holy shit!" I cried out, jumping on my feet and almost knocking my now empty coffee cup off the table.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Vanessa growled, glaring up at me. Her irritation morphed into confusion when she saw me putting the book into my bag and grabbing my coat in a visible hurry. She stood too. "Lex, what's wrong?"

"Hurry up, I just saw Loki!" I whispered urgently.

My best friend skeptically looked at me, her hand itching toward her own coat. "You're sure about that?"

I was already by the door by the time she finished her sentence. "Yes! Come on, Nessa! We'll lose him!" I bolted out.

Outside, I believed for a short moment that I had indeed lost him. Green caught my eye. I saw him calmly crossing the street and scurried after him, not waiting for Vanessa, who was following me anyway if the angry "Alexanne!" was anything to go by.

I don't know how long I actually followed Loki though the streets of New York after sending a quick text to Tony, who hadn't answered me yet. Once, the god glanced over his shoulder and I thought he had taken notice of Vanessa – who had fallen in step with me – and I but he never quickened his step.

"He acts like a tourist visiting the city…" I grumbled.

Vanessa snorted. "A god who tried to destroy New York City… You really think he would play the tourists?"

I shrugged. "How would I know?" Fishing my phone out of my pocket, I frowned at the lack of answer, then decided to send another message to Tony, who had maybe thought that I was bluffing in the first message (now why would I do that was a good question, but how could I know how that guy's mind worked?).

Ness' hand on my arm stopped me and she pointed toward the alley we had just passed. "He turned. Do we follow or…?"

"We've been following him for quite a while! We're not stopping now!" And I ventured into the alley, ignoring Ness' long-suffering sigh.

I stopped abruptly. Nothing. Loki had disappeared. We were alone in the alley.

"Shit." Vanessa was blinking but she nodded once when I breathed the cuss word. "Where has he gone to?"

"I saw him turn here!" Ness exclaimed in a low voice. "I'm sure I did!"

I believed her but I couldn't help but feel a stab of disappointment at losing the god's trace.

Well… Come to think of it… Maybe following a god hadn't been my brightest idea. If he had noticed us, he could have killed us!

My cell vibrated in my pocket and I pulled it out with a scowl. "Dammit, Stark! You decide to answer me now!?"

I was typing a short answer ("Too late, we lost him."), when Vanessa's shrill "Alexanne, watch out!" brought me back to the present moment. Instinct took over for a few seconds and I crouched, narrowly avoiding the golden stick that swished through the air over my head. Vanessa dropped to the ground to avoid the scepter as it swung toward her and we both raised frightful eye toward the owner of said scepter.

"Loki!" Ness cried out at the same time I muttered: "Crap!"

The Norse God's scepter shone green for a few seconds and I tried to duck again, only to find out that I couldn't move, as if my body was frozen from the inside. As a matter of fact, I felt heavy and dizzy, as if my body's temperature had either dropped or went up suddenly. I couldn't even blink!

"Do you really think that I wouldn't notice that you were following me, foolish Midgardians?" Loki asked in that smooth voice of his and really, how such an ice-cold god could have such a nice voice was beyond me.

My answer would have been something along the lines of "Of course not!" but my tongue didn't answer my brain's orders. It felt thick and weird, as if it didn't belonged to me anymore.

"You know the Avengers?"

And suddenly, I could use my mouth again. My fingers – and the rest of my body for that matter – were still stiff and unresponsive, though. It was both incredibly annoying and frustratingly uncomfortable.

I didn't know what to answer that wouldn't end up in injuries. Vanessa opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, looking unsure.

"Answer me." Although soft, his voice carried a hint of steel. "I heard you mention Stark's name. Do you know him personally?"

From the corner of my eye, I met my best friend's gaze. She mouthed "No" and I croaked out the same answer, deciding that lying might work.

Okay, who was I kidding? This was the god of Lies and Mischief… He could probably smell lies a mile ahead.

I winced when, far from looking satisfied with my answer, Loki crouched before me and tapped my temple with ice-cold fingers. "Don't lie, little mortal." He then turned his gaze on Vanessa. "Do you know the Avengers personally?" As he asked the question, his freezing touch skidded to my throat and he pressed lightly there. Terror slammed into me, dizzying and I let out a gasp.

Not there. Not my throat, you bastard, I hate feeling even more vulnerable!

"Leave her alone!" Ness snapped. Not impressed the slightest, Loki only pressed a bit more, this time causing a small pain. There must have been something showing in my eyes because Vanessa let out a soft "Yes… We do…" filled with a mix of anger, disappointment and fear.

Loki smirked and released my neck, stepping away from me. "Your stupidity has just made my day, then! For you might be useful tools."

"Tools?" I choked out before I could think of holding my tongue.

The god turned his green eyes on me and offered me a dangerous smile, one that made me internally shiver.

"Tools of my revenge, ignorant Midgardian." Jeez, were we only stupid Midgardians to him?

Loki pointed his scepter on Vanessa and traced something in the air before murmuring something that sounded like a spell from 'Harry Potter' in a foreign language.

When Vanessa glowed silver and disappeared, I let out a scream of anguish. The Norse God rolled his eyes and did the same thing on me.

A tingle went through me, the world swam before my eyes and everything became a dizzying blur. Then, it went backward. The blur cleared into discernible objects and the tingle faded away.

"You okay?" Vanessa's voice reached my ears and I nodded immediately.

"Yeah. Just a little dizzy. I guess I had forgotten what teleportation feels like."

"Yep. And we're stuck again." Ness muttered grimly.

I shot a look around and groaned. "Oh, bloody fucking hell!"

We had been kidnapped. Again. And were kept prisoner in a cell. Again.

Jesus Christ, did we have a 'kidnap us, please!" sign taped on the back or what?

So yes, those two managed to get in trouble again.

As to how they will get out of said trouble...

Well, that's in the next chapter!

Until then... :)