Author's notes:
These vignettes are in no particular order or time frame. Thus, this is set a long while after the events of Phage, in an unspecified future timeframe. Feel free to assume it's as far into the future as you like.
This is dedicated to my dear loyal fan ZoiLATC10, who has begged for this for over a year now. I suppose after nearly 300,000 words it's justified. Enjoy!
Remember that I am taking requests for these vignettes, as a thank you to all of you. I love your ideas!
Clint was out of his element, and he hung close to Natasha as they walked toward tonight's venue, his jaw clenched in silent protest of their mission. They lagged behind the others, Tony of course taking point and becoming less restrained the closer they came to a public outing. The assassin shuddered at the thought of Tony entirely comfortable, with no restraining influence save his own lacking self-control. Natasha nudged his side and he sighed.
"Why are we doing this?" he said to Natasha. "If she ever wanted us to come to this kind of thing, she'd have asked."
"Tony would say she doesn't know what she truly wants," Natasha said.
"Tony is full of shit," Barton said. His grumpy exterior was no front; he was not excited about barging in on Lynn unannounced, and already knew what her face would look like when she saw them. The fallen look of disappointment would do nothing to sway Tony's resolve, but Barton didn't like to think of himself as anyone's burden.
He rolled his shoulder and tried to think of other things.
"It'll be good for her to see us supporting her," Steve said from in front of him. The good Captain held to the middle of their merry band, listening to Tony in front and the assassin's behind. They were without aliens or monsters today, as Thor and Bruce were both engaged in other tasks – Thor in tending to Jane's needs via time spent together, and Bruce tending to some sort of experiment he refused to leave in favor of a public venue full of flashing lights, loud noise and, in Bruce's own words, "public nuisances."
"It's only a nuisance once I'm involved," Tony had declared in response, and Bruce had merely looked at him until the inventor melted away to leave him be. Barton envied Bruce his talents when it came to wrangling the inventor, until he remembered why Bruce alone could stand up to Tony's insistence.
As trade-offs went, the assassin could do without.
"You look nice, Natasha," he said. It was she who had raised the immediate question when Tony suggested this outing: why are we invading Lynn's privacy?
"We're not," Tony had said. "It's a public show, open to the public."
"There's public and there's Tony Stark," Natasha had said.
"Well if she's gonna be shy, she'll know no one's looking at her while I'm around," Tony had said, and Natasha had left it at that. She was dressed up now, a tight skirt topped by a red tank top. Black leggings vanished into calf-high utility boots. The outfit was utilitarian first, attractive second, and Clint suddenly smiled.
"Fandral should see you now," he said. "His eyes might explode."
Natasha smiled.
"He's charming when he's not a rake," she said.
"How often is that?" Clint asked.
"I think it cycles with the moon," Natasha said.
"Asgard has more than one moon, doesn't it?" he asked.
"Exactly," she said, and they both laughed quietly.
"The Earl," Tony read from a sign down the way. "See? I'm great at directions."
"You have JARVIS in your ear," Steve said.
"Great at directions," Tony said with a grin. "The set starts in thirty minutes. Go in now and take over the place, or make a fashionably late entrance?"
"That would be rude," Natasha said. "Go in now, let them adjust to your presence. It's only fair."
"Lynn won't be happy to see us," Clint said. He thought it bore repeating. Tony huffed.
"She'll deal," he said. Steve had the grace to look nervous, although Clint suspected that was more to do with the crowd than Lynn's imminent ire.
"Hey Barton, that Brent kid will be here," Tony said, and Natasha looked to him and raised her eyebrows. Barton felt his focus narrowing immediately upon hearing the reminder, and his concern for Lynn's annoyance vanished in a wave of both curiosity and protective fervor.
"Down, boys," Natasha said.
"No way," Tony said. "Last time I let her guilt me into having her privacy she got kidnapped, again. Never forget."
"It wasn't your fault," Steve said.
"Thanks for that," Tony said, with no small amount of grumbling. Clint was busy scanning the entrance of the venue, and ignored their conversation as he focused in on a tall, lurking shadow, ten feet to the right of the entrance, watching their approach.
Loki.
He was insanely over-dressed for this kind of venue, sporting a suit and coat similar to his outfit in Stuttgart. Still, as a token effort to blend, it did them all better than Asgardian wardrobe could manage, though Clint was loathe to admit the possibility of consideration from the trickster.
"Great," Clint muttered, and Natasha blinked at him. He jutted his chin in the direction of their audience, and she pressed her lips into a thin line.
"I do not believe Amma Lynn will appreciate your barging in on her performance," the trickster said as they drew closer.
"Is that why you're here?" Tony asked him.
"Heimdall mentioned your intentions to me," Loki said. Amusement twisted his features cruelly, or rather, Clint could only see cruelty where humor might be found instead. "Surely you know she will be angry with you?"
He was looking at Barton as he spoke, and Clint shrugged one shoulder, a defeated sort of gesture which needed no further translation.
"Tony decided to come," Natasha said.
"Of course," Loki said, "and where the great inventor goes, his brood must follow. You all are under his employ now, are you not?"
"That's enough," Clint said. His voice was tight.
"Why are you here, Loki?" Steve asked. "Do you come to these?"
"I have not before," the trickster said. Tony looked surprised.
"Not even in smell-o-vision? I thought you were a badass."
"Amma Lynn values this time away from - "
He paused, considering his words. He continued in a moment, his voice stronger and clearer.
"Away from the other elements of her life. She does not mix the two, and would be most upset if you were to disturb that balance."
"Do you plan to beg?" Tony asked. "I'd like to see that."
"No," Loki said. "You may make your own terrible choices without my interference."
"Just say what you want to say," Clint said. "Save us ten minutes."
Loki met his eyes in the same moment Lynn's voice said from behind him, "Tony?"
She stepped into view, glancing at Loki as she moved.
"Steve – oh. Hi Clint, Natasha."
Her expression looked exactly how Clint had imagined it would . He felt ill.
"Are you coming to the show?" she asked. Her voice warbled only once, and she blinked hard three times. Clint watched her take several deep breaths, which she covered by crossing her arms over her chest.
"Quite the outfit, kid," Tony said. She looked like a felony waiting to happen. "The hair's gone blue now, huh?"
She reached up and grabbed a fistful, the streaks barely hidden between her fingers. Clint reached a hand out, which she took. He pulled her into a gentle hug and tucked his chin next to her ear.
"Sorry," he whispered to her. "We didn't want him to come alone."
"OK," she said. She let him go and stepped back. Every part of her looked unhappy, but she smiled at them anyway.
"This band of yours have a name?" Tony asked, ignoring her discomfort. "Is it long and pretentious?"
"Planets on Display," she said hesitantly. Loki raised his eyebrows while the rest of them reacted with varying degrees of approval or confusion.
"An interesting choice," the trickster said, and Lynn looked down at her feet.
"We just do covers," she said carefully. "Working on some original stuff, but covers are more fun."
"Any favorites?" Steve asked. He spoke gently, his voice a soothing murmur. She glanced behind herself, then shrugged both shoulders and dropped her hand from her hair. Her entire countenance abruptly shifted, and she nodded.
"Yeah," she said, her voice solid now. Clint straightened a bit at the tone. "I'm playing one tonight, last solo. It always gets a good response."
"Will you let us in?" Natasha asked. Tony narrowed his eyes at her, but Lynn looked outright relieved.
"You're asking?" she said.
"No," Tony began.
"Yes," Steve said, and shook his head in Tony's direction. "We're asking. We'd like to see you play, Lynn."
She looked between all of them, and then at Loki for good measure.
"And you?" she asked. "Would this be your first time?"
"I have never come to your performances, Amma Lynn," the trickster said. "I would enjoy watching you on stage, I think, if you'll have me."
"You have to be nice to everyone," she said. Loki scowled. "I'm serious – everyone. No matter what. If you can't, you can go home."
"I will do my best," he said shortly.
"Do better," she snapped at him. They all waited, watching the two face off. Lynn looked sternly up at the alien creature, who was twice her size and likely four times her weight. The heir of death, bringer of Ragnarok, and shaper of all things. A being who Clint had once called sir, to his eternal quiet dismay.
Loki tilted his head to her, and Natasha tensed to see it.
"Very well, Amma Lynn," he said quietly. "I will abide."
"I won't bother with you," Lynn said to Tony, the tension in the air now dissipated with Loki's agreement. "Don't bring the house down, OK?"
"No promises," Tony said with a grin. Lynn led them to the entrance and whispered to the bouncer, who nodded and looked over her guests. He stopped when he saw Tony, who grinned and waved two fingers at him.
"Holy shit," the bouncer said.
"It's alright, Stag," Lynn said. "He's with me."
"Can I – I'm sorry, look, Lynn, just a second – can I have your sig? My little girl, she's a huge fan -"
"Yeah, of course," Tony said. He took the pen and paper thrust at him with only the slightest grimace and scrawled his name, then handed both to Steve.
"You too, Cap," he said, and the bouncer jolted again.
"Holy shit," he said.
"Stag, please," Lynn murmured, and Stag fought to gather himself. He pointed at the other three, eyes narrowing a bit.
"You two I know," he said to Clint and Natasha, "but I'm not sure about you. Were you there in New York, too?"
Loki glanced at Lynn, who only raised her eyebrows.
"No," Loki said, "of course not." The bouncer waved them through.
Once inside, Lynn melted into the background, making for the back area where the remaining band members were preparing for their set. Rather than work the crowd, Tony ordered a round for the entire bar in one go and claimed a round table close to the back of the building. He sat facing the crowd, and winked at women who passed the table.
"You are quite the menace," Loki said to him. He had taken a seat which allowed him the best view of the stage, where the band would play, and fidgeted in his seat.
"Admit it, Dennis," Tony said to him. "You just wanted to try tagging along."
"One does not squander opportunities given freely," the trickster said haughtily.
"I think that's a yes," Clint said.
"Loki, I don't think you should stay for this one," Lynn said to the trickster several minutes later. She had pulled him aside, glanced over his clothing, and appeared to make some kind of decision regarding his appearance. And yet when she spoke, she made no sense.
"You do not wish me to be here?" he asked.
"I – that's another discussion, some other time. Tonight's theme is going to be rough on you, I think." She was holding the edge of her shirt, tugging at the frayed seams. He knew this to be a nervous habit of hers.
"What is the theme?" he asked, perplexed at her concern.
"Uh," she said. "Well, we called the show 'Teenage Dirtbag,' we're covering really specific types of songs -"
"I will manage, Amma Lynn," Loki said. She sighed, and let him be. He noticed that her friends poured her several tall glasses of amber liquid resembling watered down mead, which she drank happily.
She was happy, in her element and among friends, and some part of him ached to see it. He looked away instead of watching her, to find Barton watching him with that keen hawk's stare of his.
Loki, in a less inhibited moment, shrugged one shoulder and raised an eyebrow. Barton only smiled in response.
When the first song began, he abruptly understood - and regretted not heeding - Lynn's warning. The table around him silenced; even Stark, the incessant prattler, quieted down in light of the musical queues. Loki was reminded that of the assembled at the table, only he still claimed any kind of living kin.
He felt humbled, grateful and angry, all at once.
Damn you, Frigga, he thought ardently. Would her influences never cease? To say nothing of his wretched false father, whom he tolerated on the best of days and loved wholeheartedly on the worst. Still, he had survived them both, their lives as well as their truths, and would continue to do so indefinitely, for that was his nature.
He did not think of Thor at all.
Tony left during the first intermission. He waited until Lynn approached the table, hugged her tight to his side with one arm, and whispered into her ear. She nodded, once, and smiled at him. He handed her a drink, which she accepted, then pressed a wad of money into Steve's hand before removing himself for the night. Barton and Natasha left with him, and Steve stayed to pay the tab.
"It's great music, Lynn," Steve said as he settled into the table again. "I'll stay for another few songs, OK?"
"It's pretty heavy," she said. "You guys chose the worst night to come. Next week is the seventies, better for a good time."
"I have had nothing but a pleasant time," Loki said tightly. Lynn looked at him, looked through him, and said nothing.
"Lynn, let's go," Brent said from behind. She set her glass down, half-empty, and took once more to the stage.
"You're staying all night?" Steve asked him. Loki was prepared with a pithy retort, but a glance at the Captain revealed that Steve was on the job. He wanted to ensure that someone who could protect her would stay behind. Loki was tempted to point out that Lynn had been participating in this event for years at this point, without any intervention from her powerful allies, but Steve's earnestness was a hard thing to overcome.
"I will stay," Loki said, and the good Captain visibly relaxed. Loki imagined that a visible checkmark appeared in his mind once all of his mortal charges were accounted for. Stark was being escorted by the assassins, Loki would watch over Lynn, and Steve…
"Do you have anyone to watch for your return, Captain?" Loki asked. He raised his eyebrows when Steve flushed, having expected a simple smile or casual response.
"I see," Loki said. "Is the fair Lady Sif in this realm, I wonder?"
"She's resting," Steve said vaguely, and Loki nodded to hide his triumphant leer.
"How predictable," he said, and Steve glanced at him. "She is powerful, and often wise – you will break her with your death, when the time comes."
"How often do you think about Lynn dying?" Steve asked. He wasn't being unkind; he wasn't even trying to return Loki's jab, or wound him out of spite. The good Captain merely wanted to know, from one man to another, and Loki felt the blow as acutely as a physical shock.
"Often," he rasped. "I will have to do it, you know. When the time comes." When she asks.
"We have them now," Steve said with a sad, tired smile. "Focus on that; don't think about the rest."
"I wonder if Thor says much the same to himself," Loki said.
"Where do you think I heard it?" Steve said, and Loki fell silent at the revelation.
"Yeah, I'll be there in a second Brent," Lynn said as she slid into the empty chair next to him. Steve had left several minutes before, excusing himself with polite affability and the promise to do this again sometime. Loki could not stop himself from noticing Lynn's proximity, and drew his legs and arms closer together to avoid brushing against her and disturbing her apparent equilibrium. The eponymous Brent and the rest of her band mates took a moment to look him over, and he offered them a thin, semi-threatening smile. He winced in another moment and glanced to Lynn, who instead of scolding regarded him with a worried look.
"Are you OK?" she asked, as though she did not care that he had been contemplating the various and sundry benefits of flaying her more nosy friends alive in front of the fine patrons of this establishment. Of course she did not know such things, for they were his thoughts alone – and abruptly, he realized that even if she did know, she might not react anyway.
Strange little thing she was.
"I am fine," he said when she didn't look away after several drawn-out silent seconds. "I am a grown adult, Amma Lynn, perfectly capable of managing the effects of a song."
She gave him an exasperated, knowing huff, and he wondered why he bothered the attempt.
"Very well," he said more quietly, "you were not incorrect. The music was…affecting. I will take note in the future: when you give a fair warning, I should heed it."
"I thought that one might be a little on the nose for you," she said. "You sure you're OK?"
"I am not a child," he snarled.
"Says you," Lynn said, leaning back in her chair and smiling. She'd had several drinks by now, and her tongue was bolder as a result. "The way you act, sometimes I wonder."
"Dare I ask what you mean?" He wanted to know, and yet didn't at the same time. Strange, strange little creature.
"How long do your people live?" she asked. "I mean, dogs live shorter lives so they mature faster – something that lives a longer life probably matures slower, right?"
She looked him right in the eye when she completed the statement, daring him to take offense.
"I guess you just finished your angry teenaged years, huh?"
And he did take offense, until she grinned and winked at him before sliding out from the table and turning to join her friends. He watched her go, considering her movements, her frayed outfit, her oddities. He stood to follow her, and caught her arm as she walked past the stage to pull her aside.
"I wish to speak with you," he said quietly. "The song you played, the last -"
"I love that song," she said. "Every woman loves that song. You hated it didn't you?"
He considered his words carefully. "It is only, the creature of that music – she is nothing like you. She is imbalanced, and unpleasant, which are both traits you cannot claim."
Lynn stared up at him, her pupils blown from too much alcohol and stage adrenaline. Her band mates were scattered throughout the tavern, their attentions elsewhere.
"You think I'm not like her?" she said. "I feel like her sometimes. I feel like I should hit you sometimes. Isn't that wrong?"
"Any bruises between us have always been in the shape of my hands," he said. "You are a better person than that, Amma Lynn."
He looked down at her, and she looked up at him, and the longing to lean down nearly overwhelmed him. He braced himself, steeling his spine against the inclination – and it all became moot when her hand reached up to curl behind his neck and pull him down to meet her lips.
He shuddered at the contact, hesitant and uncertain of his place in her mind. He did not know if she were motivated by his rare kindness, his honest admiration of her character, or a simple matter of intoxication. He refused to guess at the reasons, and as a result found himself plotting and planning, playing out elaborate conversations or moments in his head which might have led her to make this decision, at this time, here and now in this place.
She slid a hand along his waist, and his theories crumbled to dust as he pressed her back against the wall, hungry fire fueling his movements. He could not see anything except her, her face and hands and stubborn, tenacious hope, and he couldn't think, he couldn't think, he couldn't think –
The show is cheekily named after "Teenage Dirtbag" by Wheatus. A fun song!
The song which Loki is most adversely affected by is "Alive" by Pearl Jam.
The song which Loki harshly criticizes is "Strong Enough" by Sheryl Crow.