Nat wasn't sure what she'd been expecting when she'd heard she would be living with a group of men, not having anything else to go off of but Clint and the way he reacted around her. She imagined, perhaps, that the men she would meet would be at least similar to him, that if they were to work as some semblance of team, though Clint had used that word very loosely it seemed, they would at least have some commonalities and she could try and learn them.

"God dammit Bruce, why'd you have to hit me with the blue shell?!" A distraught voice sounded from the kitchen, echoing through the elevator that Nat and Clint were standing in, the compartment having just stopped rising to let them out. Nat swallowed thickly. What the hell was a blue shell, and why was this Bruce hitting someone with it? She looked wildly over to her partner, remembering his warning not to get Bruce angry, but he just gave a soft sigh.

"I warned them to go easy on you," he muttered with a groan, the doors opening in time for them to hear another string of curses. Loud, peppy music blared from speakers as three figures sat, hunched over and on the edge of the couch, in front of a TV, a whirl of color and creatures on bizarre looking vehicles driving around a rainbow track that didn't seem to have any sort of railings.

'What are they doing?'

"Guys!" Barton called out, though one hand from the shorter, dark haired man waved behind him as a sort of greeting, or a warning not to interfere. "Natasha's home."

"Shit-Jarvis, pause!"

"Yes, sir." Came a cool, disembodied voice from above as the noises from the television stopped, and the two figures at the couch in front of it turned to face them both, the one with glasses Natasha knew from Clint's description to be Bruce, the same that she knew Tony Stark from the glowing blue arc in his chest. He was the one that she was supposed to be mad at, and she supposed she could see the apology written on his face. Curious, though if he drove her to . . . whatever it was that happened maybe he deserved it. Still, she couldn't really be mad at him for something she didn't remember.

"Hey, good to see you again Natasha," Bruce said, offering her a crooked smile that she liked instantly, unable to see why Barton seemed to tense up when he spoke. What was wrong with him? It wasn't like he was angry at the moment, right? Well, he didn't seem to be to her, at least, and if he wasn't angry then he couldn't have been a danger. She chanced a smile of her own though she felt herself subconsciously step closer to Clint, swallowing hard.

"Uh, I would say the same for you, but I can't remember the last time I saw you," she said, tongue feeling heavy with the strangeness of her situation. Well if they thought it was odd they should try living her new life. Or whatever.

"Well, I'm Bruce,"the doctor started, still shooting her that pleasant, almost relaxing smile. She dipped her head in greeting, preferring to play along with the introductions rather than try to explain that she knew who they were but didn't . . . didn't know who they were. Weird.

"And I'm Tony." The inventor chimed in, his brown eyes never leaving hers. "So, you don't remember a thing?"

"Nope," she said with a shrug apparently large enough to make his eyes go wide. What? Was it something she did? Some cultural idea she had no clue she was offending, or something? "Any chance you can help me?"

"Miss. Romanov step into my office," Tony said, and though his eyes still showed he was afraid he copped a cocky grin. "After this game, of course."

Sure, whatever he said. What did she know, after all? She settled down on one of the chairs in what they explained to be the main living room, watching as the two men picked right back up where they left off, driving around in circles and throwing nonsensical items at one another: a blue shell, a green one, using mushrooms to speed up, throwing banana peels to slip the other driver. It was madness, but at the same time Natasha couldn't help but grin, feeling herself loosening up for the first time all day. And if the way her cheeks hurt from having smiled so much wax any indication, it was likely the first time she'd done it in some time. She was even able to forget about Barton, not noticing how stricken the man was by how easily Natasha smiled now, how bright her expression became now that she wasn't so guarded. He'd known her for so long he'd nearly forgotten what she looked like to look so, well, carefree for once. It was too bad that such happiness came at the price of her memories, not that she knew that.

The race ended quickly enough and Tony looked over to find Natasha grinning as she extended her hand. "I want to play," she said with a chuckle. "It can't be too hard, right, if you can manage it?"

It was all he could do not to gape at her. The Natasha Romanov teasing him? The others would never believe him, and he could only hope that Jarvis was taping this so he could prove it to her when she got her memories back.

"We've gotta get you to the lab first," he said, not wanting to do the work, but judged on the look that Barton was giving him it was for the best. "Then you can face against Bruce and I," he smirked. "Just so I can prove to you that, super spy you might be, you'll never beat me at Mario Kart."

The tests were inconclusive, unfortunately, and though they played video games in between Tony couldn't help but feel a little more worried every time that Jarvis contacted him to tell him that he was unable to detect any sort of drug or pathogen that might've done that; as far as he was concerned, and as far as the tests were showing, there was nothing physically wrong with her. Only mentally. He kept this information from Nat, not wanting to worry her as she cackled alongside Bruce, looking more relaxed than Tony had ever seen her. Even when she was pretending to be Natalie from Legal she'd never relaxed herself this much, allowed herself to enjoy life this much. It was sad, Tony couldn't help but think, and wondered whether or not they should just give her a chance at a clean slate, another try at life. For all she'd suffered through she certainly deserved it, deserved the break from the guilt and pressure of her past and current life.

Clint wasn't so gung-ho about that idea. "Don't you understand what kind of danger she's in?" He demanded through clenched teeth, his eyes skittering from where Nat was beside Bruce to Tony again before yanking the man aside. "You probably can't begin to even grasp it, but she's made enemies who want her dead on sight, who will stop at nothing to ensure that her life is ended. I cannot let that happen, and without the skills necessary to fight and to keep herself alive she is a huge liability. She couldn't go anywhere without fear of being recognized even if she were to live a civilian life. The families of many of the thugs she put away are still on the street, looking for her. She's survived this long because she's able to fight and protect herself. I can't always be for her, Stark. Can you when you can't even take care of-."

He cut himself short and Tony stiffened. The bastard had no right to bring that up, not needing to complete his sentence for Tony to know what he was talking about. Pepper, unable to stand what had happened with Tony shutting her out when he thought he was going to die, after having been put through hell time and time again not just with Tony being Iron Man, but also from all the times before that, had broken it off with him, and though she still ran Stark Industries (because even he knew that there was no one more qualified or better at it) she and Happy had gotten into a relationship. He'd made peace with that, Bruce had moved in on Fury's orders and the two had hit it off. He couldn't complain.

It sure as hell didn't mean that Barton had a right to bring it up as a fault of Tony's, as if he didn't know it already. His gaze hardened as Clint looked down to mutter an apology.

"That was out of line," Clint said quietly, looking up at the inventor, who'd folded his arms across his chest and glowered.

"No shit."

"Sorry."

He had a right to be. "Look, I don't know what else to do, okay? I've got nothing more that can help besides us hoping that maybe they come back, okay? Unless you can find me an example of this happening to someone else, give me a sort of formula to follow, then I've got nothing. I'm sorry. I really am. But there's nothing more to do be done about her memory loss, Barton." He reached a hand up to rub at the bridge of his nose, eyes closing. "All we can do is hope that maybe they get triggered into coming back. Or one of us gains some sort of extra-oh shit. Where's Thor?" He asked, his eyes widening as the realization hit him.

"Upstairs, I think. It's gloomy enough around the building that he has to be here somewhere. Tony where are you going?" Barton called off after the running figure, his mind trying to catch up as he chased him.

"He's a god, right? Or demi god or alien or whatever the hell. They've got magic, I always hear him talking to Steve about it-right?"

Clint's pace quickened as they sprinted up flights of stairs to get to the blond thunderer. True to form he was sitting in the kitchen, eating his feelings in pop tarts as he was likely to do on an off day, and his blue eyes widened in surprise to see both men stopping just inside the kitchen doorway, hunched over and struggling to breathe.

"Thor. Got a situation. Need help." Tony wheezed, wiping the sweat from his brow as he clutched at his side, the muscle aching. Clint filled him in further, explaining how Nat had lost her memories, and that Tony was getting nowhere with science.

"In short, we need your magic buddy," Tony cut him off, smiling brightly at the man. "You Asgardians have it, right? You keep telling Rogers about it." H wished Captain Spangly was there to back him up just in case Thor tried to deny it. As he seemed to be doing right then.

"I am sorry my friends, but I do not have magic. Only few are born with the Seidr that you need and the majority of them have not conquered the knowledge how to heal." Here he paused, gnawing his bottom lip as he turned away to stare down at his hands. "There is only one I know of with the sufficient skill to do this."

"Who-can we get him or her here?" Tony asked, taking a step forward. There wasn't exactly any time to lose!

"My brother." Thor sighed.

By Tony's side Clint deflated. "Well shit. He's dead, that's what you told us. He fell from Asgard and died."

Again silence. Thor didn't look up, and Tony fidgeted, confused.

"Thor?" He tested.

"I may have been mistaken, friends, to think that Loki had died when he fell off the bifrost, but he does no longer wish to speak with me, or have anything else to do with me. I am sorry."

"Well we've gotta try anyway," Tony insisted, not willing to give up like that. Natasha, for all her faults and her stubbornness, wouldn't give up for them if she had the chance to set it right. He hoped. "Give me the coordinations. Let's at least take her there and see. Some time alone might've helped him." He paused. "And you owe us a hell of an explanation on the way."

A/N: Wow, hell of a lot of thanks for everyone who favorited and/or reviewed! You guys rock =] sorry for the short chapter, but hey! It's an update, right?