Cherry Bomb

Natasha had a problem. Or maybe it was a conundrum, a dilemma, a predicament, an imbroglio, a pickle, if you will. At that very moment, she was loitering near the end of the lunch line, tray in hand, with her head on a swivel as she deliberated over which direction to walk. Going left would put her at Steve Rogers's table with Clint, Carol, and the rest of the football team, but it would also put her next to Bucky. Going right would put her at Tony Stark's table, but Bruce was there, and that was a whole sticky situation she wasn't sure she was prepared to handle at that moment, especially after the fight between him and Bucky the day before, not to mention the look on Bruce's face when he'd arrived in class earlier that morning to find his seat taken by Loki again. Him sitting with her that first day must have been kismet because of the partner-based project they were tasked with. Now, Loki would be her lab partner for the next few weeks, while Bruce was stuck working with a weird tech kid named Viz.

It was only the second day of the second week of school. How did everything get so complicated so quickly?

Matters only got worse when members from each table spotted her and began beckoning her in two separate directions. Her stomach turned and, suddenly, she didn't feel too hungry.

"Whoo! You stink."

Natasha twisted around to find Loki standing directly behind her. She frowned. "Excuse me?"

Loki grinned. "You reek, Miss Romanoff. You reek of indecision."

He was teasing her and, once she realized it, Natasha snorted. "Very funny."

"What seems to be the problem?" he asked.

"Not quite sure where to sit," she replied.

"Ah." Loki took a step forward, bringing him parallel to her side. "An awkward affair, I'm sure, but one every high school student has struggled with before. Tell me, which way are you leaning?" His eyes followed Natasha's line of sight as it jumped back and forth between Steve Rogers's and Tony Stark's tables. "Ah," he repeated.

"Honestly, I'm not sure I'm all that hungry anymore," Natasha admitted.

"What? Not hungry?" Loki smirked sideways at her. "A growing girl like you? And a soon-to-be football star, no less. Surely, you must be hungry."

Natasha groaned.

"Given that you find yourself equally torn between two options, might I make another suggestion?" Loki asked.

Natasha raised her eyebrows, silently waiting for him to continue.

"Forget lunch and come with me," he said.

Laughing, Natasha turned back to stare at the two tables on opposite sides of the cafeteria. "So, instead of only two options, now I have a third to add to my quandary. And since you're right here, I now have the added consequence of causing offense. How is that supposed to help?"

Loki pretended to mull over her question. "Hmm," he mused, tapping a long, pale finger on his chin. He clapped his hands together. "Beats me. Enjoy the rest of your day, Miss Romanoff. Allow me to wish you the best of luck in your decision regarding this lunchtime debacle."

He was striding away when Natasha called out after him.

"Wait!"

Loki stopped and turned. He was standing directly in front of her, only inches away. When Natasha took a deep breath, her olfactory senses went into overdrive. Loki smelled like eucalyptus, sandalwood, and spearmint. It was intoxicating. Her mind went blank.

"Yes?" he asked, waiting patiently with a slight smile on his face.

Natasha shook her head, struggling to regain control of her faculties. "What, ahem, what did you have in mind?"

Loki's half-smile widened into a full grin. "So glad you asked, Miss Romanoff. Come on, then." He took her free hand in his and turned back towards the entrance.

"But what about…" she trailed off, looking down at her lunch tray.

"Leave it," he called out, not bothering to look back as he started pulling her across the cafeteria.

Natasha barely managed to abandon her tray on a nearby table without making too much of a mess before she found herself practically trotting to keep up with him. She tried to focus on the wide entrance looming in front of them to avoid thinking about the dozen or so pairs of eyes watching her as she fled the cafeteria with Loki.

Natasha continued to let Loki lead her by the hand even after they'd left the lunchroom and exited the school. He was much taller than her and his long strides made it difficult to keep up. She was content to hang on for the ride.

They came to a stop in front of a sleek car that looked black in present light but was dark green on closer inspection. It was shiny and looked even more expensive than the one Clint's mother and step-father purchased for her, which was saying something. He held the door open for her, claiming that his mother raised him to "be a gentleman," and she found that it still had that new car smell. When he climbed into the driver's side, however, the new car smell was replaced by his enticing aroma. It filled up the car, making her ability to think go all wonky. Natasha decided to just sit back and relax as she tried not to think about how she had just been—for lack of a better word—kidnapped by a boy she'd met only yesterday. She could still feel the ghost of his hand on hers as he started the car and pulled out of the parking lot.

"So, where are we going exactly? You never actually answered my question, you know."

"Patience, Miss Romanoff. All in good time," he replied with a chuckle.

"As exciting as all of this is, I think I'd prefer knowing if it's not too much to ask. I mean, I barely know you."

Loki nodded though his grin never wavered. "Yes, I apologize if that was rather sudden. We had to move quickly, however, as you were only moments away from getting caught in a somewhat sticky situation."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Mr. Barnes and Mr. Stark were both preparing to come and steal you away for themselves, though I cannot say that I would blame them," Loki said, glancing sideways at her while he did.

"Huh?"

Loki chuckled again. "You, Miss Romanoff, are…how did he put it…oh, yes, a 'snack,' and it would seem that several of the young men in the upper echelons of our school's social ranking are more than interested in taking a bite if you catch my meaning," he explained. "Although, if you ask me, I think he was wrong; you're not a 'snack' at all. In continuing with the food analogy, I'd much sooner call you a 5-course meal from a 5-star Michelin restaurant, but that's just me," Loki added with a wink.

Natasha rolled her eyes, but her mind was stuck on a pronoun he used. "Who's 'he'?"

"My brother, of course," he answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Your brother?"

"Yes. My brother, Thor."

Natasha's eyes widened as she turned in her seat to get a closer look at Loki. She knew Thor from several meetings at lunch and football, but the boy in the driver's seat looked nothing like the behemoth blond. They both had long hair, but that's where the similarities ended. Thor was built like a massive dump truck with muscles piled upon muscles, while Loki was thinner and lean with sinewy muscles that lurked under pale skin. Everything about Thor was brutish, and he seemed to take up as much space as humanly possible. Natasha secretly imagined that if he got any bigger, Thor would develop a gravitational pull and objects would start orbiting around him. Loki, on the other hand, appeared more unassuming while still carrying himself in a regal manner. Thor was loud and dim-witted; Loki was quiet and intelligent. The list went on and on.

"Your brother?" she repeated, completely unable to comprehend that fact.

"That is what my parents tell me, anyway. I understand your bewilderment, however. I often find myself wondering if I was inadvertently switched at birth. I take responsibility for your confusion. I must have forgotten to mention my last name when we met yesterday. Please, allow me to apologize and rectify my transgression." Loki held out his right hand and took hold of her left hand. While keeping half of his attention on the road in front of him, he brought her hand to his mouth and brushed his lips against her knuckles as he had done the day before. "Loki Odinson, at your service, Miss Romanoff."

Natasha was never one to blush but a peek in the rearview mirror reminded her that things change. Her cheeks were nearly as red as her hair.

She awkwardly cleared her throat. "Ahem. Wow, um, wow. Your hands are ice cold, did you know that?"

Loki released her hand, allowing it to fall gently back into her lap. "That, Miss Romanoff, is because I am a vampire."

Natasha blinked. "Huh?"

His eyes flashed sideways at her while the corners of his mouth twitched upwards. "A joke, Miss Romanoff. It was only a joke. I was testing your taste in literature."

After a moment, Natasha asked, "did I pass?"

"With flying colors," he replied. "I always run a bit cold, though," he added. "It's as my mother has always said: 'cold hands, warm heart.'" Something about his angular features softened as he mentioned his mother, and Natasha smiled.

"I like that," she said.

"As do I, Miss Romanoff. As do I."

When they finally came to a stop, Natasha was surprised to see a concrete building with blacked-out windows and a single red door.

"Where are we?" she asked.

Loki said nothing but hopped out and was opening the passenger door before she'd had a chance to remove her seatbelt. He held out his hand and helped her out of the car. Natasha tried to stifle a wayward giggle when he held out his arm, wiggled his eyebrows, and said, "milady." She linked her arm with his and walked through the red door at Loki's side.

The room they entered was dimly lit and seemed to be pulsating with magnetic energy. Circular booths covered in crimson-colored crushed velvet were scattered around the room. The tables were deep mahogany and each one was topped with a single votive candle. The bar on the far side of the room was made of the same wood and stocked with a wide range of amber-colored bottles with vintage labels.

A bar. Loki had brought her to a bar.

"Are we allowed to be in here," she whispered.

"I think you'll find that, with the right attitude, you can go anywhere, Miss Romanoff."

Loki guided her past the booths and the bar, pulling her further and further into the room. When they reached the opposite wall, he ushered her through a set of crimson-colored velvet drapes and into a second secluded room.

The back room wasn't empty. Much like the first room, there was another circular booth with the same coloring and construction and another bar. It would have been frighteningly intimate if Natasha hadn't spotted two figures already sitting in the booth.

"Loki?" she whispered as the two figures watched them approach.

"Trust me," he purred.

Even with an unsettled feeling in her stomach, Natasha allowed Loki to lead her towards the occupied booth.

"Wanda, darling, and Pietro, how do you do?"

Now that they were directly in front of the booth, Natasha could see the two figures more clearly. They appeared to be teenagers, approximately the same age as Loki and herself. The girl, Wanda, had dark, long hair that fell to the middle of her back. Her eyes were lined with thick mascara and eyeliner, while her lips were painted a deep scarlet. The boy, Pietro, had dark hair as well, but the shaggy ends were tinged with light silvery-white streaks. Despite his youth, he had advanced stubble covering every inch of his square, chiseled jawline. They both wore leather jackets; Wanda's was few shades darker than the red material that lined the booth she was sitting in, and Pietro's was simply black.

They both nodded at Loki's greeting, so Natasha assumed they were at least acquaintances of his. She was still hesitant to slide into the booth when he tried to help her in. Not wanting to cause a scene, she acquiesced to his nonverbal request, uncomfortably aware of Wanda and Pietro's silent stares.

When they were settled, Loki leaned back, stretching his long arms out to rest on either side of the booth's cushioned backing, effectively putting his arm around Natasha's shoulder—if only technically. She found herself leaning into him given the alternative of sitting too close to the two strangers who had yet to utter a word.

"Wanda, Pietro, allow me to introduce Miss Natasha Romanoff. She's new to Marvel High."

"So," Wanda finally spoke, "you're Natasha Romanoff."

"We've heard all about you," Pietro added.

They both stared at her like she was prey, and she remembered what Loki had said about Thor's comment—about her being a 'snack.' Natasha swallowed past the lump in her throat.

"Nice to meet you," she said, smiling hesitantly.

Wanda and Pietro looked at one another then back at her. They both smirked.

"Likewise," they said simultaneously.

After a moment of thick silence, Loki hopped up. "Now that that's settled, how about I go get us some drinks."

Natasha looked up at him with mild alarm. "I don't drink."

Loki fixed her with a playful yet challenging stare. "Come on, Miss Romanoff. Live a little."

He didn't wait for her answer. Instead, he disappeared through the curtains. Natasha watched him leave and turned back to see Wanda and Pietro watching her. She swallowed again, her anxiety rising.

"Calm down, Miss Romanoff," Wanda said. "We don't bite."

Pietro laughed darkly. "I think what my sister meant to say, is that we don't bite…hard."

Natasha was struck by the theatricality of it all. Suddenly, she wasn't nervous because it was clear that they were just messing with her. This was a test, and she was failing.

"That's a damn shame," she replied.

Wanda raised an eyebrow. "Is it now?"

Natasha said nothing. Rather, she allowed one corner of her mouth to curve upwards into a smirk. She winked.

Wanda and Pietro looked at one another and started laughing.

"Did I miss something?" Loki asked as he re-entered the room carrying a tray of drinks.

Natasha tried to act casual, but she kept her focus on the strangers in the booth with her. Loki took the drinks off the tray and placed two in front of each of them before tossing the tray behind him without another look.

"I like this one," Wanda told Loki as she continued to stare at Natasha.

"Good. Me too," Loki replied, sliding back into the booth. When he leaned back this time, he didn't bother with the pretense of draping his arms on the back of the seat. Instead, he allowed one arm to rest lightly around Natasha's shoulders and pushed a drink her way with his free hand.

Natasha hesitated at first but followed suit as Loki, Wanda, and Pietro each held up a glass.

"To new friends," Loki said.

"To new friends," Natasha repeated, chiming in with Wanda and Pietro.

While the others downed their drinks in one go, Natasha sipped at hers. She'd never drake alcohol before; she was nervous.

Loki leaned over and whispered in her ear, "you don't have to drink if you don't want to."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Wanda and Pietro watching her, silently judging her. She steeled herself for the burn and downed the rest of her drink in one gulp. The alcohol burned going down but the muted cheers from those surrounding her made the pain worth it.

By the time the lunch hour was nearly up, Natasha found she quite liked the burn and warm tingling sensation that rippled underneath her skin. She also found that she didn't mind having Loki's arm draped around her shoulder. It made her feel warm on the outside while the alcohol worked its magic within. When Loki regretfully announced that they needed to go if they wanted to make it back to class on time, Natasha realized she didn't want to leave.

"Come on, Loki. Let's stay," she pouted.

"Miss Romanoff, you surprise me. Are you quite sure?" he asked, leaning in closer as if they were conspiring together. It didn't faze Natasha when Loki's face was mere inches from her own; instead, she licked her lips and nodded.

"Mm," Loki mused. "Your wish, my command, darling."

He closed the gap between them.

*Song Inspiration: "Cherry Bomb" - The Runaways