Chapter FIVE

A White Canvas, Now With COLORS

The black mini-van drove down the street.

There were no people out at this time of the hour, barely two-thirty in the morning. The sky was dark and the city lights were far enough from the road that it won't illuminate Natasha and Loki's faces. Loki sat in the back seat, trusting the darkness to keep him from being scene. The assassin was in the front seat, driving, the location of the warehouse the device that would eradicate Loki's existence would be in, labelled as the safe house on the mini screen near the radio.

There were no policemen patrolling around so Natasha picked up the speed. It will only take about an hour for Stark to notice that the surveillance has been looped, and thirty minutes to alert the team. "Are you okay back there, Loki?" Natasha turned her head around slightly, seeing Loki huddled in the backseat. Loki nodded and Natasha turned her eyes back on the wheel.

The silence was uncomfortable. Natasha decided that she would talk, get Loki to trust her a little more.

"I don't trust you, Agent Romanoff."

Loki spoke icily, masking the distrust edging near his voice. Natasha almost froze. "Loki, you know that I—" Loki spat out, "Impossible! I know that this is all somehow a scheme to get me to surrender. Maybe this is a scheme made by your oh-so-wonderful Director Fury."

Natasha bit her lip angrily. She slammed on the brakes.

"Look at me, Loki. Look at me and tell me I'm lying," Natasha growled, swivelling around slightly, enough for Loki to see her emerald eyes. The ex-god was rigid, in a stance ready to attack, but his eyes softened. Natasha's eyes did too. From the corner of her eye, she could see the god trying to stop the trembling in his fingers. Natasha turned away, and continued driving, turning left. "You're just afraid, Loki. Trust me, please," Natasha whispered. Somehow, she hated the fact that Loki thought everything was a trap. She hated the fact that even the soup that the SHIELD agents brought in for him made him suspicious and edgy.

Stop it Natasha scolded herself, this is a mission, and petty sentimentality for a mass-murderer will screw everything up.

The ex-god was silent. The only sign of his presence was his breathing. The assassin sighed and said "When I was younger, I used to think that the people who smiled were the kindest." The tension shifted slightly, and she waited, a silent question that asked if she could continue. "Go on," Loki whispered, and Natasha smiled a little to herself, turning right. "I always looked at people's smiles, and thought 'this man must love his children, he must be happy and loving' and then, I was trained to be an assassin, my vision of the world changed."

Natasha gripped the wheel tightly. She couldn't belief that she was opening up to a crazy psychopath, but it just came naturally to her. "They taught me that not everyone could be trusted, and that a smile doesn't define people's intentions or personality or ideals. No, they could mean deceit, hurt, pain or betrayal. Which is why after my eighth birthday, I never looked at people's smiles again."

"Then, I had this best friend. We were trained to become assassins in this place and she was with me. We were at the top of the class, always praised by our teachers who liked the sight of blood and the feeling of murder. I didn't understand her though, because she always smiled. She was always pleasant to be around. She shared her food, her blankets and even the very little possessions the teachers let us keep. We were lapdogs. Dangerous, knife-wielding lapdogs who weren't allowed to play. And in that group was my best friend, who sang songs about flowers and gave us her butter cookies."

Natasha swallowed as she drove over a highway. "When SHIELD got me back under its radar, when I started working for them again, I saw her. She was with the enemy. Smiles were really ruined for me, because right before I had to kill her, she dropped her gun and all her weapons. She smiled and told me that she had been thinking lately, about choices and all the blood she's spilled. My best friend told me to kill her. To do it for what's good. I couldn't, so she took my gun and killed herself. She was smiling."

"Loki, she was a skilled assassin. She used to share her butter cookies. She died with a smile, and she's the only person I knew that smiled and did the bad and good things. Weird, huh, how people try to tell you how the world works, and then you see it differently and realize that not all the gears each people see are the same."

The discomfort in the atmosphere has lifted. Natasha turned around to look at Loki, a bittersweet smile on her face, to see Loki looking down at his hands. He was clearly listening. Different emotions were displayed into one, and when Loki felt the mask slipping, he looked indifferent. Natasha turned back and stopped in the red light.

"Loki, let's start over. Let's pretend that our first meeting never happened. The canvas is now white."

Loki said "Canvas? You mortals have a strange way with metaphors." Natasha could feel Loki's smile. The assassin felt a shift in their relationship. What once were enemy to enemy was now two lost individuals trying to become friends, to became survivors that worked together in this crazy, messed up world. Natasha said "I'm Natasha Romanoff. I'd like to rip off the red and the black we've painted on our canvas and turn it white. Would you?"

"I…I am Loki. I am not sure of who I am or of what is after this, but I…"

The ex-god was trying. He was trying to let that mask of his slip, trying to trust Natasha.

"I would like to as well, Agent Romanoff."

Power

The feeling of power and control surged through Natasha and because Loki couldn't see, she smiled sardonically. So far, the mission was going perfect. She whipped out sentimental junk from her life and successfully got Loki to trust her a little more.

But Natasha cleared her throat and said "Do you have any story to tell?"

Loki made a sound of surprise and said "Story?" Natasha laughed a little and said "Sure, I mean, in a few hours, you have to sit on the floor because the sun will set."

So Loki told her about his childhood.

Natasha had conflicting feelings.

First, she would feel immense guilt for what she's doing. Lying to Loki and promising escape when all she's really doing is bringing him to his death. She felt like she wanted to take Loki back. Never mind that Loki would probably never trust her ever again, she just felt the need for Loki to be safe and alive.

Second, Natasha felt control. She felt the sadistic pleasure of being the one to end Loki's life. She felt the happiness in erasing her team's nightmares and PTSD from the battle because Loki would be gone forever.

Heart pounding erratically against her ribcage, she saw the sun come up and hear the rustling of Loki sitting on the floor.

She decided that she wanted to fulfil this mission.

The white canvas will have its colors.

The different shades of red splattered and speckled on the white, the paint dripping like the blood that Natasha has spilled. Like the blood that is about to spill, and the life that will soon end by her own doing.