Blue Skies, Bright Sides, and Invisible Know-It-Alls
Part One: Mr. Blue Sky
Ever since Tuesday, Loki had been walking around with a smile on his face and a song in his heart. Somewhere in the deepest, darkest recesses of his mind, a little voice was yelling at him, warning him that his altered attitude had nothing to do with the plan. He ignored the voice. What did it know?
It had been a fantastic week.
Tuesday with Natasha had been amazing, not because she was funny, smart, and a good kisser—or so he kept telling the irritating, little voice—but because of the results, which were deliciously drastic and a vital part of his scheme.
He pointed all of this out to the little voice on Wednesday when he saw the frowns, creases of worry, and flashes of jealousy on several faces of his insipid little pawns. Banner's reaction had been especially glorious when Loki greeted Natasha in class that morning. He made sure to shoot the hopeless nerd a salacious smirk when he cozied up to the redhead as they took turns with their microscope.
He pointed it out again on Thursday when he noticed Stark staring longingly at Natasha but pretending not to whenever Miss Potts was nearby. And again when Natasha grew exceedingly concerned with Stark's avoidance of her. Loki made sure to sound as supportive as possible when she texted him about her feelings on the matter and her annoyance with Barton's reactions to her behavior, but he grinned like a shark the entire time.
On Friday, he'd all but beaten the stupid voice into submission when he went all day without a text after a particularly quiet period in class, and something squirmed in his gut like a snake. He ignored it, but the feeling happened again later that day when he read that stupid article by Miss What's-Her-Face…. Sure, he liked that the entire school new, and it was useful for his plan, but he was reminded of his stiff competition for—
No, that was ridiculous. He squashed it and chalked his response up to concern over his plan. Natasha's silence probably had to do with her idiotic need to play hard-to-get or something girly like that.
The excuse didn't hold up as well when he went all of Saturday without a word from her. It was nearly shattered when he intercepted her text to Stark. But, when the playboy deleted the message without a reply, Loki was able to convince himself that his reaction was based on the fact that he needed everyone deeply divided and Natasha's attempt at contact risked messing everything up.
By Sunday, Loki's mood had rebounded. Between the beautiful weather and a surprise text from Natasha asking him how his weekend was going, he was feeling pretty good about himself. The mood persisted throughout the day when a quick check of Natasha's messages revealed that she hadn't sent or received a text from anyone important. It persisted all night and endured while he got ready for the new week.
Unfortunately, he wasn't prepared for what would happen Monday.
That damn day hit him like a shovel to the face.
Part Two: Mr. Brightside
Ever since Tuesday, Bruce had been in a foul mood. Watching Natasha leave with that bastard Loki did something to him.
Of course, she'd like him, he thought again and again. He's all dark and dangerous, just like Barnes.
Bruce had been so concerned with Natasha's ex and Tony's interest, he hadn't accounted for outside threats, and Loki was definitely a threat. That was all but confirmed when Natasha didn't show up for Russian Lit. His anxiety only increased when he overheard that Natasha skipped football practice.
Everything got worse on Wednesday when the rumor mill caught wind of the situation, not to mention Loki's pointed expression in class that morning.
Threatening, indeed.
Bruce tried to tune everything out, but it seemed like the whole "Natasha and Loki situation" was the only thing anyone wanted to talk about. Thankfully, Tony seemed disinclined to mention it, even if Bruce caught him staring at the object—or, subject, rather—of their affections.
For the first time, Bruce sympathized with Tony. Things were still strained between them, but he knew deep down that he'd rather Natasha be with Tony than Loki. That surprising revelation did nothing to quell Bruce's worried mind when he inadvertently heard what a good portion of the school was saying about Natasha.
After spending the last few days green with jealousy, Bruce was seeing red.
Pepper had watched him all week after the incident with Natasha and Loki.
Loki, Tony growled at the very thought of that manipulative bastard. Nothing good could come of his interest in Natasha, of that Tony was certain. Still, with Pepper's uncanny ability to pop up whenever he got close to Natasha, he had no way of warning her. Briefly, he considered talking to Barton, but Pepper put the kibosh on that, too. Tony convinced himself that Barton was well aware of Loki's reputation and would put a stop to it. But the look on Barton's face did little to put Tony at ease, especially when he remembered Natasha's reaction to their previous interference in her personal life.
Tony spent Sunday alone. Pepper had gone home after spending Friday night and the entirety of Saturday messing with his head and warping his will. He knew exactly what she was doing; he wasn't stupid. Between his precarious friendship with Bruce, his promise to Natasha about interfering, his unsteady alliance with Barton, and his own carnal desires, Tony resigned himself to her control.
The coward's way out, he thought bitterly.
If Bucky heard one more disparaging remark about Natasha, he was going to lose it. How dare any of these self-righteous, holier-than-thou, douche-canoes say a single word against her! He was absolutely livid.
And Barton! Stark! Banner! Those three idiots must only be pretending to care about Nat. What other excuse did they have for doing nothing when she traipsed off with that spineless rodent. Although, if he was being honest with himself, a part of Bucky was also furious with Natasha for going with Loki, but he couldn't stay mad at her no matter what she did.
…Or so he thought.
Once Bucky realized that no one planned on looking out for her, he'd stolen away and followed them to the Red Room. Since that day, everything was red, and it all boiled down to a kiss.
If Bucky thought his heart was broken before, he knew it had to be obliterated after watching Loki put his hands and lips on Natasha. Bucky didn't stick around after that. He'd stumbled mindlessly out of the bar and retched almost immediately. When the fresh air cleared his head, he keyed Loki's car and returned to school.
Of course, Steve noticed his disappearance. He was the only one, though. Bucky could tell that his best friend wanted to ask him about it but knew to wait until Bucky was ready. When Natasha texted Steve that she would be missing practice, Bucky must've looked terrible since Steve went ahead and told him to take off, too.
Bucky waited in Steve's room that night and was grateful when his best friend continued to silently support him by not pressing the issue. Not a word was spoken except for Steve's quite "goodnight" just before they both went to sleep.
All night—and every night since—Bucky tossed and turned, plagued by nightmares of what might have happened after he left. During the day, when he wasn't actively trying not to murder the gossips, he cursed himself for not sticking around and rescuing her. If he knew what happened for certain, then maybe he wouldn't wake up sick every morning after hours of hazy visions of Loki and Natasha tangled together.
Part Three: Mr. Know-It-All
After six days of watching Bucky mope around, Steve had had enough. He knew there was nothing he could say to make him feel better. He wasn't even sure what had happened to make Bucky this depressed. Steve knew it had something to do with Natasha Romanoff, but that was about it.
Steve was never one for gossip, but it was nearly impossible to ignore the things being said about his new wide receiver. Whether those things were true or not, it wasn't for Steve to decide, but Bucky's disappearance on Tuesday and his subsequent reappearance along with his drastically altered attitude, left little doubt in Steve's mind that whatever happened with Natasha and Thor's brother was bad.
So, when Monday rolled around, Steve decided it was finally time to step in. After football practice was over for the evening, he called Natasha over to him.
"Romanoff, can I see you for a minute?"
Natasha jogged over to him looking fresh-faced and bright-eyed, far happier than she had any business being after the week she must've had.
"Yeah, Cap, what's up?"
Steve searched her eyes, her face, her stance. Nothing about her screamed guilty or embarrassed.
"After you hit the showers and get dressed, meet me outside the locker room."
"Is everything okay?"
Steve wasn't proud when her confident expression faltered, giving him a brief moment of satisfaction. Whatever happened, even if the rumors were true, wasn't her fault. He knew that. Steve made a mental note not to take his frustration out on her. It Bucky's fault he's in this situation, not hers, Steve reminded himself.
Steve nodded. "We just need to go over a few things."
When Natasha emerged from the girl's locker room thirty or so minutes later, it was dark, and Steve's stomach was growling.
"Come with me," he said gruffly.
She followed, practically jogging to keep up with his long, swift strides.
"Where are we going?"
Without looking back, Steve replied, "It's about time you and I had a conversation, and I'm starving. If you don't mind, I'd rather we have some food with our little chat."
She said nothing else, but Steve knew she was still on his heels. He thought about asking if she would follow in her car but decided that would give her an easy out. Instead, he made a beeline for his own car and held the passenger door out for her to get in. Steve might've been irritated by the situation, but his mother raised him to be a gentleman.
Natasha eyed the invitation warily but got in nonetheless.
They drove in silence, which continued as they parked in front of the restaurant and were seated. It seemed as long as Steve was content to keep his mouth shut, so was she. Steve knew it took guts, confidence, or stupidity to keep her mouth shut when she probably wanted answers, but her neutral expression gave nothing away. By the time their waiter arrived, Steve had a little bit more respect for Natasha.
"So," Steve started once the waiter left with their orders, "we need to talk."
"That's what you said," she replied quickly, her tone even, betraying nothing.
Steve chuckled.
"You got spirit; I'll give you that. I like it."
"Steve Rogers's approval? My life is complete."
She didn't blink as she spoke, and Steve couldn't help but smirk a bit at her deadpan expression.
"I know we didn't get off on the best foot with the whole tryouts situation, but I thought it was important for us to start over," he explained. "If that's okay with you," he added.
Natasha shrugged. "Fine by me."
"First things first," Steve said, clapping his hands together. "I want to clear the air and tell you that I know everything about you and Bucky."
Natasha snorted. "I figured."
"And that whole history between the two of you," he continued, "is part of the reason why we need to talk before we can start over."
She didn't speak, but one of Natasha's eyebrows quirked upward. Steve took a moment to collect his thoughts. It wouldn't benefit anyone if he messed this up and offended her.
"I'm sure you're aware that you've been a subject of conversation since your arrival at Marvel High, correct?"
Natasha stared at him. She didn't blink.
"I'm not here to judge you," he added.
The only movement of the girl sitting across from his was that a second eyebrow joined the first.
"Bucky is my best friend, but, on the field, that friendship doesn't matter. On the field, you're both equal in my eyes because you're both my teammates. Unfortunately, that history between you two is messing with his head and it's affecting his performance."
"Are you kicking me off the team?" she asked. Her expression remained unchanged, but there was a dangerous glint in her eyes. She looked like she was daring him to do just that.
"No," Steve assured her, shaking his head. "If anything, he would be the one getting suspended until his attitude improved."
"Ah."
"My problem is this: I've heard his side of the story, I've heard what people are saying, but I think I'd like to hear your side of everything. I need to know all sides of the story if I want to effectively manage my team, deal with my best friend, and put an end to this nonsense."
"Nonsense?"
"Yes. Nonsense. This may come as a surprise to you, Romanoff, but I don't take kindly to people messing with my teammates, and that includes nosey gossips with nothing better to do than spread rumors about my wide receiver."
She didn't seem impressed by his admittedly snarky 'confession.'
"So, if you would, I'd like to hear about whatever you're comfortable enough to tell me. About Bucky, about last week, anything."
Natasha snorted at that. "And what if I don't think it's any of your business?"
"Fair question, but then I'd have to remind you that at least one of those things became my business when you didn't come to practice last Tuesday."
Natasha's impassivity wavered briefly.
Finally, Steve thought.
"You're right," she admitted. "That was irresponsible of me, and, for that, I apologize."
"Thank you."
Her eyes narrowed at his reply, but the change was not enough to prepare Steve for what came next.
"As far as everything else is concerned, I maintain that it is none of your business. I am sick and tired of telling people that. For the past two weeks, I've done nothing but mind my own damn business, but everyone seems intent on weaseling their way into my life with their opinions and affections and whatever the hell else, and I have had enough.
"If one more person—one more—tries to tell me how to live my life, I will not be held responsible for my actions. I am a hair's breadth away from going Kill Bill on everyone's ass including Bucky's, Loki's, Clint's, Tony's, Bruce's, and now yours. Am I making myself clear? It is my life, and the only one who has a say in what I do is me. It's called a personal life, a private life, for a reason.
"Do you understand, or do I need to say it slower? Use smaller words? Because I'm sick of having this conversation. Sick of it!"
Steve felt about two inches tall when she was done.
The waiter reappeared with their food and was met with silence. Natasha was glaring at Steve, who was slightly hunched over as though his shoulders could protect him from her wrath. As if he could sense the tension, the waiter quickly placed their meals in front of them and fled the scene.
Natasha looked down at her plate then across the table at Steve's. A soft chuckle escaped her lips, and Steve winced.
"He gave you mine," she said with a louder laugh and reached across the table to swap their plates.
Steve watched as she began digging into her meal, surprised by the sudden change in her demeanor. Gone was the darkness in her eyes and red in her cheeks. It was as if her tirade never happened. His mouth dropped a little when she even grinned at him after taking a bite.
"What?" he mumbled almost breathlessly.
Natasha looked up at him. "Hm?"
"What? Uh, what just…uh…what just hap-happened?"
Natasha cocked her head to the side. "What do you mean?"
Steve's mind tried to process her sudden attitude change as his mouth opened and closed repeatedly without any words coming out.
"You were…. And then…. But I don't…what?"
Natasha snorted. "Chill, Cap. I got what I need to say off my chest. You asked me to tell you whatever I was comfortable with, and I did just that. It's in the past now. Catch up, slow-poke."
Steve absorbed her explanation with just a bit of disbelief, but her sincerity was hard to ignore. A slight chuckle escaped him, and Natasha grinned. Soon, they were both laughing, and the rest of the meal was enjoyed in a decidedly friendly atmosphere.
Part Four: Miss Invisible
Natasha ended up telling Steve almost everything. He was Bucky's best friend, but his comment about her side of the story and gossips led Natasha to believe that Steve was one of the rare creatures capable of objectivity. He was a good listener, too.
"One of the things I don't get," she said, "is why some of these guys are so obsessed, you know? Like, Bucky and Clint, I get, but Tony and Bruce and Loki…it's like they've gone and lost their damn minds. They don't know me, not really, but they're acting like they do. Like I owe them something, you know? It's exhausting."
By that point, they'd finished eating, but both of them were too engrossed in their conversation to recommend calling it a night and heading back to school.
"What can I say, Romanoff? Guys are idiots, especially teenage guys."
Natasha laughed. "You're right about that."
"Even I've been known to be slightly idiotic from time to time," he joked.
Natasha stopped laughing and leaned forward. "Now, why do I get the impression that that is just not true, mon Capitaine?"
The poor boy didn't know where to look, and Natasha watched Steve's eyes go a bit wide at her teasing.
"Chill, Cap, chill. I'm messing with you," she relented, taking pity on him.
"You're trouble, Romanoff. That's what you are. Trouble."
"With a capital 'T,'" she agreed, grinning.
"You know," Steve said, smiling affectionately at her, "I get why Bucky is kinda messed up about you." When she opened her mouth to respond, Steve kept going. "No, I do. I'm not about to join the legions of young men and start following you around like a lost puppy dog, but I get it."
Natasha relief was hesitant, so she kept her mouth shut, waiting for him to elaborate.
Steve's head rocked from side to side, looking as though he was carefully considering his words. She liked that. He had a good enough head on his shoulders to think before speaking—a rare trait as of late.
"You're clearly intelligent, hardworking, and a bit of a ball-buster," he explained. His cheeks went a bit red at the last part.
"I'll take that as a compliment," Natasha said.
"You should." Steve looked down at his watch. "Oh, and we should probably get going. I've kept you late enough as it is."
Natasha checked her phone and rolled her eyes at the missed messages from Clint.
"Yeah. You're probably right about that."
Steve signaled the waiter for the check and insisted on paying. Natasha tried to argue, but Steve only shook his head.
"I'm the one who dragged you here. Of course, it's my treat," he stated simply. "Plus, I learned my lesson on equality last week. I wouldn't dream of treading on your independence, Romanoff."
She rolled her eyes and laughed. "Fine, but that means it's my treat next time, 'kay?"
"Yes, ma'am."
On the drive back, Natasha felt more relaxed than she'd been since all this drama started. When they said their goodbyes, Steve gave her an awkward side hug that made her smile. It was as if she'd finally made a friend.
Part Five: Mr. Brightside (Redux)
The smile was gone; the song was gone. As he watched Rogers hug Natasha, Loki felt sick. The tiny voice in his mind whispered, "I told you, so."
*Song Inspiration:
1) Mr. Blue Sky - Electric Light Orchestra
2) Mr. Brightside - The Killers
3) Mr. Know It All - Kelly Clarkson
4) Miss Invisible - Marié Digby