Chapter 3

Black Widow's idea of entertainment was not in the least entertaining. It was brutal punishment, at least to Irene. Some of the crew had come to watch as Natasha Romanov dashed about a training room, armed with nothing but her own limbs, and struck small hovering robots to score points. She had to admire her precision, however. The Widow hadn't missed her mark even once since she'd begun. What disturbed her was the maverick smile she kept as she leapt and dodged and generally caused very controlled chaos.

Irene winced. Shouldn't the agent have been bruised all over by now? Or was she like the Muay Thai warriors that had hardened their bones and nerves against pain?

"Why did you agree?" Startled, she turned, heels clicking against the glassy floor. "You obviously don't approve of institutions. You were made to break the rules. Why would you let Fury make decisions for you?" Loki asked, a little upset.

"If I had something worthwhile to do, I wouldn't have come with you last night. If I had anything valuable left, I…" Her eyes stung. Kate, her best friend was dead, and with her had died the will to do anything. Her betrayal had hurt, but her death was worse. No. I have to get on without her.

"You are like me." She looked up. He was smiling again, that smile that made her want to break his nose. "Tell me, Belladonna, do you truly believe you have nothing left? Or do you simply enjoy the hunt more than the complacency of a prisoner?"

With more strength than she knew she had, she lunged for him. If she'd been armed, she would have lacerated his pretty face to ribbons. She really hated being analyzed, propositioned. It was practically a catcall. While she had no purpose, she still had her pride. She could still hate, which meant she could still feel, and that surge of rage was the first thing she had really felt in a long, long time.

…

Loki chuckled gleefully as she flew at him. The tip of his jawbone smarted where she dug her claws in. It thrilled him to taunt a tigress, to edge towards danger and flaunt his immortality. In all his missions under Fury, all the times he was forced to hunt like a subservient dog, never had he been thrilled, touched, in such a way. No one ever attacked him without fear, not even his own brother.

She was hissing, growling at him with a rage more virile and genuine than he had ever detected from her. It was a good change from her depression, which had begun to leak into his own mind like a crushing glacier. He let her clutch at his throat, laughed as she rammed him against the wall with a heavy thud and kneed him soundly in the gut. If she was playing, she would have hit me below the belt.

Then heavy arms secured her and wrenched her away. Loki was still breathless and grinning as the Winter Soldier held her fast by the wrists. The knee to his diaphragm had hurt, surprisingly. He strode up to her, grasped her chin as her anger-fired eyes bored boldly into his. "Oh, I like you." They were both breathing hard. "Pity you weren't born a giant- I would have had you." At this, she nearly wrenched her arms out of joint, she was so frenzied. Thankfully those pretty arms were preserved by the soldier, who had enough sense to keep her limbs by her sides.

Barnes glared at him disapprovingly, but said nothing. "Oh, shut up, Snowflake, don't pretend you've never flirted before. And you," he said to Ms. Adler, "don't forget, you are my ward. I can restrain you, watch you, any time I like."

"I hate you," she snarled, "Talk big all you like, but you forget what I am. I can crush your will faster than you can crush my bones." Her words were so full of fire that for a moment, he believed her.

The ruckus had attracted the team members, including Widow, who didn't seem the least out of breath from her strenuous game. "All right kids, break it up. Wait until after tomorrow, then you can rip each other to pieces-" she noted how close their faces were, how intense their stares. "-or rip each other's clothes off, either one."

They turned their glares on her simultaneously. "Or not," she conceded casually, though Loki actually seemed more upset over the interruption than the scandalous suggestion. Natasha decided to change the subject. "The files will be sent up to your room. Since we're so short staffed, we're leaving most of this mission to you two. The old triskelion's satellites will be watching, though, so no funny business," she warned.

"You must be mad if you think I'll work with him now," Adler growled. "Send someone else."

"There is no one else. The Avengers have business with a mutant uprising in Los Angeles, one that needs their full representation." Irene cursed. Loki just chuckled. Agent Romanov rolled her eyes. "Barnes, let her go. I need to talk to the arseloch."

He complied, and following with his returning memories of his gentlemanly upbringing, escorted the woman outside the training room. It was strange to think that the man who had turned her into a deadly assassin was now an awkward, silent veteran with impeccable manners. Then she turned to Loki, whose lingering smirk showed that he wasn't the least bit sorry. "Personally, I don't think this will work, but I might as well tell you."

"What, pray tell?"

"That woman is broken. She's on the edge of meltdown, and you could have shattered her. I don't know her, but I respect her, which is more than I can say of you." The god just 'hmmm'd and raised an eyebrow. "I swear, Loki, if you hurt her, I will sic the Hulk on you and I will let him destroy New York with your body."

"I don't doubt it, agent. However, your analysis of my effect on her is entirely wrong."

"How so?" She cannot read into Irene Adler's mind. She does not know that I am piecing her back together.

"I give her motive. But what would you know, who finds it better to be depressed than incensed?"

"Well, better she be content, cared for, than angry. Did that ever occur to you?" That stopped him short. Infuriatingly, he pretended she'd said nothing and stalked away. "You'd better get on that before she decides to kill you."

I cannot care for her. I know not how.

…

Lunch and dinner passed without incident as the other Avengers gave her a tour, and she was granted access to Stark's bar (or one of them, since there were quite a few scattered around the different rooms). Red wine after a light meal had been a staple for much of her life, and having some now gave her some sense of stability. She'd missed her ritual dearly while gallivanting about the world. Now, with the wine staining her thin lips over her ordinary lip stain, she thought life might even be pleasant.

After she finished her glass, she retired to Loki's room. She would have occupied some other room, but the other rooms were locked with scanners, probably as a new security measure. I'll just have to lock him out, then. She turned about as soon as she was inside to lock the door manually, but it was no use. Ever the pariah, Loki was already inside. She unlocked the door again and held it open.

"Get out."

"Why? It's my room." He approached slowly, casually, and as much as she hated to admit it, he looked ravishing in formal evening wear. What's the occasion? She gripped the doorknob. "Why were you so angry?"

She gazed at him a moment in surprise. "You know why. Stop playing with me." Her jaw clenched as he touched her wrist, she drew away.

"I'm not playing." He stood tall, and she wondered if all Asgardians were proportioned thusly. "If I have to keep you, I want your stay to be voluntary."

"What do you care?" she queried guardedly.

"I know what it is to be shackled, to be in constant agony, never free. I don't wish it on you." From the haunted look in his eyes, she knew it was true, even if he was the god of lies. She had to look down, away from the scalding look. It was the closest anyone had come to an understanding compassion towards her in the past few years. From infuriating arse to potentially not an arse…

"You needn't bother."

"I know." His gaze drifted towards the nearby window. "Let us walk." He strode away a few steps, and the glowing manacle on her wrist tugged her towards him.

"Do I have any choice?" He turned around again, looking like he'd say something snarky, but it was not so.

"Would you like a choice?" The tugging on her wrist stopped.

"I would. And I would like all the other choices as well." He turned his back.

"So be it."

She chose to follow him then, pulling the long sleeves of her wrinkled blazer tighter as they ventured out onto a balcony. Stark's dinner inside provided menial background noise, glasses clinking and people chattering and laughing. A few years ago, she would have joined them, dominated them with wit and will.

Leaning on the railing, out in the wind, it was peaceful.

"Fury has sent you to die tomorrow. Does that not faze you?" She ran her tongue over her teeth, still tasting the last drops of wine.

"Better that than to live bored, or a prisoner."

He chuckled. "That's exactly what I said when they gave me the choice." Irene pursed her lips.

"I am not like you." He did not agree or disagree, though what he thought of her insistent declaration was a mystery. "What does Fury mean by this, sending us out there?" It was a genuine question.

"I'll tell you a secret that everyone knows." A look of bitterness passed over his features.

"Answer the question."

"Fury sends us out to protect his precious Avengers. They have faced horrors before, but nothing where they were not out of harm's reach. What they do is well within their abilities."

"And what are we?" He smiled his maverick smile.

"We are expendable. I am paying for my crimes, and you…" he murmured, edging closer, "…are paying for yours."

"Playing the model citizen doesn't suit you," she replied, a hint of a purr in her voice. Gentle flirting like this was comfortable, more comfortable than honesty. "You live for the hunt."

"And playing like you enjoy my company doesn't suit you. Unless you have forgotten I am your captor." The enchanted manacle tugged her even closer, and upwards until she was forced to touch her fingers to his. They were cold. "I can make you do whatever I want."

"My mind is still free," she defied. His laugh was true this time.

"I like you, do you know that?" She raised one arch eyebrow.

"So you've said."

"While I was admittedly less than courteous, I did mean what I said. You are nightshade, you are a beautiful woman."

There was a lull. Then: "I don't hate you." Her eyes flashed as he looked down in surprise. "But I can crush your will."

"Challenge acce-"

A great crash and an explosion interrupted them, and the concrete under their feet trembled. "Sounds dangerous," Irene commented. Some strange, feral creature roared with rage.

"Sounds fun. I suppose your challenge will have to wait," he said, feigning disappointment. "Shall we join the party?" From a wisp of gold smoke, he produced a thin, strong rod with a leather handle that was not unlike her old riding crop.

"We shall. I'm eager to see what the Avengers deal with on the daily."

…

Agent Clint Barton was not a man easily surprised. He had been a criminal in a circus act, then an agent, then a husband and father. He had been a mindless tool of destruction as well, controlled by Loki and his Chitauri scepter. He had even fought off an alien invasion swarming from a hole in reality. So really, he should not have been surprised that Thor kept a pet bilgesnipe in his room.

Or that it was impervious to most of the Avengers' physical attacks.

Or that it now had Stark by the ankle and Spider-Man pinned under its scaly claws.

It seemed to be enjoying itself amid the chaos. There was Scarlet Witch, attempting to calm the monster with her red magics, but against a brute animal she was useless. Its antlers swung, and he had to shoot a net to keep her out of the way.

He was rightly surprised, however, when the new recruit, Loki's ward, stepped into the scene. Loki hadn't lifted a finger, which was unsurprising. The woman had in her hand a little rod, more of a switch or a dowel that glowed like sunlight (probably the sorcerer's work). Like an insect drawn to light, the bilgesnipe lumbered towards her. She crouched, almost frightened, but- he should have known Fury only recruited people with guts.

She stood her ground, even as the animal bellowed and frothed at the mouth, as its foul spittle misted her face. It was a challenge and a primal war cry. When it stilled in confusion that she did not quail, she struck out hard with the switch. The air hummed with energy as she wielded it, stinging the monster in the face until it was driven backwards, whimpering.

"Impressive, right?" The mild-mannered Dr. Banner bad caught him unawares.

Clint breathed out heavily. "I thought she was just a prisoner under our protection."

"I did a little reading up in her spare time. Her file is…interesting, to say the least."

"I know a little." The floor shook as Adler backed the beast into a corner. Its six legs crumpled as it submitted at last. "What's so interesting?"

The doctor pushed his glasses back up his nose. "She almost brought down Britain with a smartphone."

After recovering from the monumental piece of information, Barton had the wit to ask: "Almost?"

"Lucky miss, I guess. She'd gotten involved with one of the senators' relatives."

"Oh." He knew all too well that his family could be used as leverage against him. Then he looked at Banner. "Doesn't being out here raise your heart rate?"

He took a swig of coffee. "It's not a white hole. The big guy won't come out if the situation's obviously under control." He started making his way back to the reinforced lab from whence he came.

"Wait, doesn't caffeine raise your heart rate too?!" But the scientist was already walking away, and Thor had finally put a leash on his pet. Stark's robots were clearing the damage and repairing the area. In the morning, everything would be welded and sanded back together. Besides being a genius, he was also lazy: hiring workers in the morning would cost time and money. Never mind, I'll just go and yell at Thor for a bit. He needs to get his animal under control.

…

As the dust cleared (rapidly, due to the tower's air filters), Loki clapped. It was a slow applause, but not a sarcastic one. Bilgesnipe were major pests in Asgard (who knew why his brother had ever wanted one), and sometimes required whole teams to subdue them. Irene Adler had beaten this one into submission with nothing more than a stick. She was standing there, breathing hard, with the light of victory in her eyes and a smile on her face. Beautiful.

It had not been her physical might, but her dominant presence that defeated the monster.

The Avengers who had gathered for the fight were staring at her in amazement, and well they should, for she might be fully mortal, but she was a goddess in her own right. Sam Wilson pumped his fist and yelled. He hadn't had time to get his wings or even his pistol, and this woman, a captive and criminal, had single-handedly saved the day. Little by little, the shouts and congratulations grew, and they all converged on her. Her smile widened. Of course it is nice to be appreciated.

And, as they surrounded her with their newfound welcome, Loki slipped back into his room. She'd get another place for her quarters now that the 'good guys' owed her. He could have forced her company, for she was more pleasant to speak to than anyone else, and the only company he'd really had in over a year. He didn't want to. Her mind is still free. Let her choose them. What is it to you if she gives more time to her own kind than to an enemy of the gods?

He closed the door, disrobed and cleansed himself, and closed his eyes. The mental link of the handcuffs buzzed in his consciousness, and despite his aversion to spying, he let himself wander in all her thoughts and sensations. Through her, he felt flashes of the warmth of acceptance, of friendship. He felt his brother clap her back and propose the last toast of the night. There was the Widow complimenting her technique, a starstruck Spider-Man, and the enhanced twins lifting her up on their shoulders. Stark was flirtatious as ever, and she was amused, but Loki was not. He could taste the champagne on her tongue.

She felt alive and young again.

Then he cut himself off. If she would not come to him of her own accord, what right had he to invade her mind?

He couldn't sleep, but the buzz and warmth eventually faded.

To his surprise, the door opened. What is she doing here? Is this one of Fury's security measures? The bed compressed as she changed into more comfortable attire, the silk nightclothes, and pulled the covers over her drained form. She said she would crush my will, and…perhaps that will be.