Guest – I do enjoy Blackfrost as well. Loki and Natasha are a good match.

Bigred20 – Thank you for reading.

Chapter 3

Natasha approached, flowing like liquid, light steps soundless against the floor. The spy paused, taking a moment to study her mark. The tall man paced the confines of his glass prison, restless like the caged tiger she remembered seeing at a zoo in Moscow when she was a child. They were the same in many ways - both dangerous predators waiting for a moment of weakness to strike.

"There are not many people that can sneak up on me," he said with a smirk as he quickly turned to face her.

"But you figured I'd come," she replied smoothly to cover her surprise. He shouldn't have known she was there … not until she wanted him to know.

"After whatever tortures Fury can concoct, you would appear as a friend, as a balm. And I would cooperate," he replied in a voice dripping with sarcasm.

He was mocking her. Barton would have, of course, told him about her skill set. She was anything but a soothing balm.

"I want to know what you've done to Agent Barton," she demanded. Usually, she would be more subtle but time was of the essence.

"Yes, it was all about Agent Barton," a voice said from behind her.

Natasha turned, already defensive. She should have heard if someone were behind her. The widow paused in stunned silence at the sight of another Loki, now standing beside her. This Loki was calmer, more composed, and did not look like he wanted to murder anyone. This wasn't how the interrogation had gone at all.

"What did you miss in your hurry to find your partner?" the new Loki admonished, nodding as though disappointed. "You were trained to see more than this."

Natasha glanced back to the memory and did 'see' more. A virtual laundry list: abnormal paleness - no sunlight, heavy dark circles under his eyes - exhaustion, thin to the point of gauntness - starvation, sweat-slicked hair - fever and dehydration, favoring his side - injury. He needed to sit when decorum dictated he make a power play by remaining standing. The Loki she had interrogated was weak. She should have recognized the signs of prolonged torture. God knows she had seen enough of it.

The scene shifted to the Battle of New York, Natasha fighting the unending onslaught of Chitauri troops. Suddenly, the new Loki was crouched beside her.

"Is this how one conquers Midgard?" he asked accusingly. "You were trained to see more than this."

Natasha thought back to the battle. It had been befitting of the God of Chaos for that was what is was – no strategy. Destroying New York would not give him a throne on Earth – he had known that. It was as though he wanted to fail and draw as much attention to himself in the process.

Another shift, Loki crawled out of the hole he had made in Stark's floor, courtesy of the Hulk. The god looked like hell, beaten and bruised, but his eyes were different than when she interrogated him. There was relief. She thought she had only imagined it at the time, but it was there. He had gone willingly, cooperative then, not spitting venom at them even before Thor secured his mouth with a gag.

She had missed it all.

Natasha stirred from the dream, not really a nightmare, but disturbing nonetheless. Her surroundings were unfamiliar. For one, she was under an impossibly soft blanket, one that made her feel secure, like a child held protectively in her mother's arms. She hadn't felt this safe in a long time, in almost all of her memories, and it threatened to lull her back to sleep. The room smelled of old parchment and herbs, but clean and masculine – Loki. Immediately she sat up, too abruptly. It felt like Thor had hit her over the head with his hammer and she reached up to cover her eyes as a wave of nausea rushed over her. She held still until it passed, feeling Loki would probably not appreciate her vomiting in his room. So this was what it felt like to be hung over – a new experience for her certainly - how did Stark even function in life? Natasha sat still for a moment, collecting herself.

The part of her that was a spy couldn't help but to look around. Again, Loki was meticulously neat. Apparently Stark had needed to order extra bookcases, because that was what lined the walls of the room. The shelves were filled mostly with books. Some seemed to be ancient, hence the smell of old parchment. Other shelves held trinkets - probably artifacts older than her. She dared not touch anything. Natasha slipped from under the blanket and stood to her feet. A chill swept through her body and she lamented losing the warmth and security of the soft blanket; she grabbed it and pulled it around her shoulders as she exited the room to find her host.

Natasha expected to find him asleep on the couch – he had definitely consumed more wine than she had. She was surprised to see him seated on the floor a few feet away from the artifact Fury had given to her. Several old volumes were spread out in front of him. It was surreal to watch him read from a tablet while recording notes with an actual quill on a piece of parchment that floated in front of him. For a moment, she considered the possibility this was all still an Elven wine induced dream.

"There is a mug for you in the kitchen. Fill it with hot water and bring it to me."

Natasha did as instructed. Bruce's alter ego was using her brain for a punching bag and she didn't quite feel like talking or arguing at the moment. Loki stopped his study, whispering something under his breath as he took the mug in his hands and it glowed green.

"Drink up," he said. "Its taste leaves something to be desired, but you will feel remarkably better."

Natasha sipped the contents of the mug as she settled back on the sofa and watched him work. Her head began to clear up, but the hot beverage combined with the warmth of the blanket around her made her eyes grow heavy again.

"No, you may not have my blanket."

Natasha snapped awake. "You know, I think that is the best I have slept in years."

"I would hope so. The enchantment my mother put on it is strong."

"It's a security blanket?" Natasha smirked.

"She enchanted it for me while I was recovering, after my second attempt on my life," he replied, still intent on his work.

"You know, on Earth we would call you a mama's boy."

Loki stopped what he was writing and turned to look at the spy as he thought about the statement for a moment. "The sentiment is shared on Asgard."

"You don't feel the same conflict about her that you do about Odin or even Thor," Natasha observed.

"My brother has changed, and I am still sorting that out. Our relationship has always been conflicted, but I suppose that is to be expected. We are siblings. I am still very angry at Odin. He is my father and I love him, but I find it hard to forgive the hurt and lies at the moment." He sighed, a slight innocent smile that made him look much younger gracing his features. "How could I be angry with a woman who took in the child of her greatest enemy, an enemy who had tried to kill her husband? Mother raised me and loved me as her own, even favoring me over her own flesh and blood child at times. I have never doubted Frigga's love for me." His eyes narrowed. "Now please return my blanket to my room."

Natasha smirked again, but followed the request, even folding it and placing it neatly at the foot of the bed.

"Do you know what it is?" she asked as she returned to the living room.

"It is magical in nature, though not like my own. The text comes from what JARVIS tells me is a member of the Sino-Tibetan language family. I have been attempting to translate the runes, but what I have so far is cryptic."

"Like a riddle?"

"Perhaps," he murmured. "The most I know is that it is one of many, and could possibly open a portal."

"A portal?" she asked. "Like the one you opened?"

"I am not sure." Loki reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I need to translate and research more."

"You look tired," Natasha said. "How long have you been at this?"

"I am not sleepy, and it will taunt me as long as it is here."

Perfect, he sounded like Stark now. Just what she needed - another obsessed genius.

"Sometimes it is good to take a break and approach things with fresh eyes," she said in her most diplomatic voice. "Let's get you out of this room for a while - there's a cafe not far from the tower, great breakfast, amazing coffee. I need some decent food."

"My understanding was that Stark's wealth is immense," Loki said pointedly. "Is there no decent food in this tower?"

"Loki, you can't continue to live like a hermit."

"It suited me in Asgard."

"Did it really?" she asked.

Loki sighed, head bowing in defeat.

"Clean up and meet me on the main floor in 30 minutes."

"Must I really?" he protested.

"I will come drag you down there if you are a no show."

Natasha was surprised to find Loki waiting for her on the main floor thirty minutes later, prompt as usual. He was dressed in suit pants and a button up shirt. At least he had neglected to wear a tie and rolled the sleeves up to his elbows, otherwise she might have felt underdressed in jeans and a light jacket.

"You're here," she remarked.

"I don't exactly recall having a choice," he answered. "Though, I'm not sure of your wisdom in taking me out in public. Someone may recognize me as the one who bid everyone kneel before him."

"You had that obnoxious helmet on; that's all anyone would recognize," she assured him as she led him out of the building and onto the bustling streets of Manhattan.

Loki seemed nervous, yet curious, as they made their way down the sidewalk, eyes darting back and forth taking in his surroundings. A lot of progress had been made, but the area around Stark Tower had far from completely recovered from the Chitauri invasion. There was a hint of guilt in the god's eyes, but she allowed him his space. Bringing up the astronomical price tag of damage done seemed counterproductive, especially after learning what he had suffered in the custody of the one he called 'The Other'.

"Here," she said, grabbing his arm to drag him into the small cafe.

After being seated at an outdoor table and ordering, Natasha surveyed the streets and alleyways around her location. Habits were hard to break, and she always felt more comfortable with a planned exit. She returned her attention to Loki, who was intently focused on a cellphone - the one both Stark and Fury had said should go with him if he ever left the tower.

"Please tell me you are not still working," she groaned. "You are supposed to be taking a break."

With a disgruntled sigh, Loki slid the phone back into the breast pocket of his coat just as their food was delivered. They began to eat in silence, Loki avoiding eye contact.

"You aren't saying much," Natasha commented finally, better able to think after starting her second cup of coffee.

"I must remind you that I am here against my will," he protested with a charming smirk.

"You were a much better conversationalist last night."

"I was also quite drunk," Loki hummed lightly.

"I am flattered you trusted me enough to let your guard down that much."

"Yes, quite foolish on my part." Loki sat his fork down and folded his hands on the table in front of him. "Norns help me – I don't even know everything I told you."

"You were very thorough."

"I'd rather not think about it." The god had very few tells, except clenching and wringing his hands when frustrated or nervous, which he was doing now. "It is disconcerting to feel so exposed."

"You trusted someone." Unsure why, she reached across the table and stilled his fidgeting hands with her own. "I know how hard that is."

"When will you share your findings with Director Fury?" he asked, finally meeting her eyes. Worry - a certainty that his trust would be betrayed - flooded those emerald depths. "I would like to be prepared for his questions."

"Fury will want to know that we talked - it will actually be good. But, he doesn't need to know details. I can keep it brief, clinical - an overview."

The change was instantaneous, his posture and breathing less tense, the hands beneath hers relaxing. Fury would be pissed, but Natasha knew if she broke Loki's trust, they would never be able to work with him.

"I thank you for any discretion you can extend," he said with a nod, offering the shy, real smile she remembered from the previous night.

"Why not keep the conversation going?" she said with a smirk, feeling a need to lighten the atmosphere. She pulled her hands away from his and leaned back in her chair. "How much will you question 'my' parentage if I ask you about the eight-legged horse?"

"You are infuriating," Loki replied with a playful, mock scowl. "I have no children … and most of Midgard's mythology was written by bards banished to Midgard who hated me because I played a part in seeing them banished."

"Imagine that."

"I did not give birth to Sleipnir – it was my mare. I did need to distract Svaðilfari, so I sent my mare out to lure him away. I may have used magic to make her more alluring, and Sleipnir was born. I am incredibly proud – he is the finest steed in all of Asgard. Odin claimed him almost immediately for his own."

"So you didn't father a wolf, a serpent, and the goddess of death?" He rolled his eyes in response. "But … what about Angrboða?"

"She was a Jotun witch, trying to incite war between the Aesir and the Vanir and damn near succeeding. I was scouting in the Iron Wood and encountered her …"

"You seduced her?"

"I seem to remember her seducing me … I was young … barely of age," he said softly, a slight blush staining his cheeks. "She wanted my magic; I needed information. With my reputation, being a spy was not difficult." He paused. "We were lovers, but she most assuredly did not bear me any children. Odin would have skinned me alive had that happened as any child of mine would have a claim on the throne."

"Sigyn – the Goddess of Fidelity?"

"Why does this seem like a jealous lover asking me of past flings?" Loki hummed. "Sigyn and I were betrothed, but I never touched her. Our parents thought the match would be good – noble blood, politics, and all. Sigyn loved another, but would have honored her parents' wishes even if it broke her heart." Loki paused, letting out a deep sigh. "I threw the fit, dishonored my house by rejecting her – it was believable coming from me and left her dignity intact. We remain friendly – only Sigyn, her husband, and I know that I never really despised her and they are grateful.

"Sounds lonely," Natasha murmured. "Have you ever actually been in love?"

"No … love is for children," he repeated her words. "But then, you would know … you have been in love, haven't you?"

"I can see Clint was thorough." Natasha nodded her head - she had started down this path of conversation. "I was married to a man named Alexei and yes, I did love him. Unfortunately, being a test pilot is a dangerous line of work. He died in an explosion. I grieved … they used his death in my training … it was part of what they used to twist me."

"I am sorry for your loss," he replied with genuine concern, reaching for her hand to comfort her. The tenderness of the gesture caught her off guard, and she was glad that her cell phone began to ring. "I need to take this," she said, looking down at the number - strange, it was a dummy account set up from her last mission.

Natasha stepped out to the street and then around into a small alleyway. "Hello," she answered. There was no response. She disconnected the call and turned back to the street again when someone approached.

"Agent Romanoff … no sudden movements. My snipers might panic and assume you are being less than cooperative. I have no doubt you would survive, but there are many … vulnerable civilians in the café and on the street who might not be so lucky." The man, Durov she remembered, wore a kindly smile and spoke with a heavy Russian accent to his English. "We will need your weapons of course."

Another man was already taking the liberty of removing her concealed knives and two firearms.

"Yegor Kiriyev sent me. He just wants to talk to you."

"You have my attention." From her spot in the alley, she could barely see where Loki sat at their table, absorbed in something on his damned cell phone again.

"Who is the man with you?" Durov asked, noticing the object of her attention.

"You actually interrupted a date," she replied smoothly. "A civilian … if I don't return shortly, he will probably do something stupid like call the police.

"A date?" he asked skeptically. "Go greet him as your lover; tell him you are leaving and he is to come with you."

Natasha went back into the café, hoping Loki could pick up cues as they went along. If this was going where she thought it was, his help would be nice.