Magdalyn sat at the widow, looking out over the grounds, the patches of seasonal blooms merrily devouring the sunlight, just as her father would the liquor store, her hands laced across her left knee, back arched against the wall. She recalled the last time that she had seen this same breathtaking view, the last time that she had seen this house at all. It was a day that she never wanted to revisit, not even in her memories (though it plagued her slumber often). Thankfully, there was a gentle knock on her door, as if the person on the other side wasn't sure about speaking to her. She could always count on a distraction to keep her from the pain and horrors that she had suffered from her own creation. Getting up in no great rush, she wondered if it would be her father demanding a DNA test (but he would probably try to do it in secret for whatever reason), Loki, or Steve looking for answers.

Third time's the charm. A hesitant Captain America stood at her door, hand still stretched out to knock again. She giggled, pushing his hand away, "Steve."

"Ma'am." He said stiffly, nervous to be around this particular woman (he was well aware that it was nothing in the romantic sense (something about her was just not right)).

"You can call me Mag, everyone back home does." She turned around and returned to the window, "Come in, make yourself comfortable."

He nodded, the most adorable look of alarm on his handsome face, clearly afraid. He entered the room, careful to close the door behind himself, seeing that aside from the layout and color scheme (her room was a sunset gold and rose pink, with varying shades of each thrown in), it was no different than his own. Somehow, just that small similarity helped him. On the other hand, her eyes following him made this all the harder, the smile on her lips an unwelcome monster.

"So, what do you want? The secret of life? A cup of sugar? Answers?" She was so much like Tony in the respect of screwing with others, it was as if she were really his clone, but Steve found that it was more intimidating coming from a woman. "The first one I can't answer - no one's figured that out yet - and the sugar's in the kitchen, but if it's answers you want, those I can give to you."

One Room Over

Sulking like he usually did (when he wasn't being a badass), Clint tortured himself with the memories of the Chitauri War (if that battle could be called a war). Natasha had given him the perfect chance, probably more than once, but he had not taken it. They were both professionals, and for him, the personal drive for revenge had blinded him to much outside of his target. It didn't help any that he had to bear the weight of his actions (even though he could control himself no more than puppet controls its master). A part him knew what she was implying, and an even less proportionate side of himself desired nothing more than to have taken her in his arms, but he didn't...

And now she was with Banner.

He had had so many opportunities and yet he squandered them all, foolishly believing that she would be waiting for him. He knew that that wasn't fair, as technically she had probably been waiting for him for years, but if she had held out that long, why had she suddenly just given up like that? Was he really so special? Was it the unpredictable danger that he represented that attracted her? The meek geek that could care for her? What was it that Bruce Banner had that he didn't have?

An idea came to him suddenly, an idea that was less practical than it was hopeful. What if there was nothing special about Banner at all? What if this entire thing was just a way to make him jealous, to make him act? Well, two could play at that game...

Last Night

Clint had, after falling right asleep in his new bed, woken with a start, a recently sharpened hunting knife clenched in his hand. Something had fallen in Thor's room, and from the sounds of things, it was most likely the flat-screen that came standard in all of the bedrooms. He considered not going to answer the sound, but he figured that since he was awake now, he might as well go check it out. Considering the rules, how did Stark not remove the television set? There was more than enough time to, even after the rooms had been picked (the third floor left alone for some reason).

Speaking of the rooming situation, he understood why the self-proclaimed genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist had opted to stay on the second floor, but why in the world would both Natasha and Banner chose to remain on the same floor? He had the hunch that it was so they too didn't have to room next to Loki, or in their case himself, but he somehow doubted that one. As for not staying on the vacant third floor, there were admittedly a couple of reasons he could see, the first being that out of the eight master bedrooms, none of them were on the third floor (though most of the bathrooms were located on that floor (and he personally knew from years of working with her that she could rough it out in ways that even some of the manliest men couldn't)). Another would be that since Stark and Banner were close friends, it was only natural that they would room close together (if he already wasn't staying with the inventor), and since Tasha was presumably with the scientist, it made sense that she would bunk on the same floor.

Grunting, he put the knife back before rolling out of bed.

Just outside of his room, he saw that the others were mostly already there, "Why is everyone already here?"

He had addressed no one in particular, but it was Natasha who answered, "Stark was worried, and Pepper went with him to help keep things civil, and Bruce was on his way to the lab."

"Why were you here?" He had wanted to ask her how she knew he was on the way to the lab, but he knew that that wouldn't end well.

She looked at him, glancing over her shoulder at the others to make sure that they were preoccupied before nodding at him to lead the way back to his room. Her short hair bobbing with the graceful motion of her head, he had the sudden desire to just shove her against the wall right then and there, but he repressed the urge, turning his back to her. He didn't look at her again until they were shut in his room.

"Something tells me this will be brief," He looked at her coldly, arms crossed over his chest.

She could have smiled at his perfect poker face, well aware that something was bubbling just under the surface, but she frowned at him instead, "Do you think that Loki will reveal what he knows?"

He didn't have to ask to know what she meant (her ledger), "I don't know."

"They'll understand." She said more to reassure herself.

"Tasha," He softened the hard look on his face, aching to wrap his arms around her (but he resisted), "T-"

She shook her head, "Even on the run from SHIELD, he still helped anyone who needed it. I killed all those people for nothing! I'm the real monster..."

"Him? I should have known better," He was fairly sure that he could feel his heart breaking even as they stood there, but he would be dammed if he allowed her to see it, "You should go."

Realizing that she had hurt him, she did the best thing she thought she could do for him - she left.

Yep, Loki's Secret Talent is decorating! Reminder/warning: Hawkeye called Natasha Tasha (mostly while possessed (once when it was wearing off), and then he called her Nat for the rest of the movie). To the last review, I don't find that to be flaming. In fact, I find it helpful, and I hope to hear more about how you felt this went off course. You don't have to feel obligated to answer that, if you're even still reading this, but out of the interest in getting better, I would like to hear what you have to say. As for Natasha's and Thor's chapters (the two that stuck out like Batman at a Marvel convention), I have removed them from this story and placed them in a fic all their own. On the note of rearranging, I might go back and add chapters, but I might not, so we'll all have to see how I decide to fix this... Well, I do hope to hear from you, any and all of you!