Chapter 8
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(3m)abny
Natasha Romanoff watched over the burning ruins of yet another facility that had been run by the people that had made her. Not her parents, never them, they had been people, humans; she barely remembered what they looked like. No, monsters had made her; real ones, ones that made the Hulk look like a Sesame Street knock off…ones like her. She didn’t even remember what it felt like to be human. Oh, she could play at it, they had taught her well, but she couldn’t feel it, not the way she was sure she should. Natasha used to wonder if everyone else was pretending to be human too and they were just better at it. Clint had convinced her otherwise. He was certainly more human than she would ever be. Smoke issued forth from fissures in the ground in front of her from the underground facility. This hadn’t been her Red Room, but it had been a Red Room. It pleased the growling thing deep within her to see it being reduced to ash. If she could express her emotions like a proper human, she would be laughing and dancing around the destroyed site in unrestrained joy. As it was a slight smile curved her lips and then it curled still further, showing her teeth in a stiff snarl. She ducked further down behind the snowdrift as an unmarked military vehicle traveled down the dirt road.
It hadn’t been her who had destroyed this building, or the others like it. Oh she would have, even without orders, she had always wanted to do this, to have some actual revenge, besides using her talents to balk her former country that had used and abused her, to work on the side of the angels. But no, it had not been her. Fury had offered to put her on this stealth op. months ago, almost directly after the battle, no one was to know where she was and what she was up to, not even Hawkeye. She was in the spy business, keeping secrets was the job, even if she had to keep them from Clint…it kept him safer that way. Fury had ordered her to recover, or if necessary, destroy any and all information that Hawkeye and the other agents under Loki’s control had leaked to their various enemies. She had agreed to go; it was better if she was the one that covered for Clint, after all, what she had said to Loki had been true, she owed Barton, for everything.
While on the trail of the missing information, interrogating one of SHIELD’s more well known enemies, Natasha had found that they possessed some of the new SHIELD weapons, weapons they had only just gotten after the Battle for New York, and therefore after Clint and the other agents had returned to themselves. She reported back to Fury, who in turn told her that he believed that there were moles buried in SHIELD, betraying them from within. He didn’t know who, but he expected her to find out. Which was why she was currently investigating the recent spate of destruction that had been plaguing the top-secret labs and facilities in her mother Russia. Fury thought it might have something to do with the infiltrators that were working inside of SHIELD. He had even suspected her of being one and orchestrating the attacks, which was understandable; Fury knew where she had come from. But he had had her under careful surveillance, which had cleared her. She looked out across the snow-covered field, checked the military’s position and then retreated to her snowmobile two miles back, hidden beneath a white tarp. As she sped away she considered the intel she had gathered so far. It seemed these attacks had been perpetrated by the hitman known as the Winter Soldier. She had caught a brief glimpse of him at the Pavlovian Institute a week ago, before it had blossomed into a fiery explosion behind him in the night sky; his metallic arm shinning in the reflected orange glow. She tried to follow him, but lost him in the ensuing chaos. It was strange. The Winter Soldier had apparently been around for decades; how he was alive and still killing she couldn’t guess. People didn’t grow old in her line of work. She had even encountered him once before... Natasha held a hand to her side, fingering the old scar through her spotted white furs as she drove; there was a larger scar on her back where the Soldier’s bullet had exited. The Winter Soldier was a ghost, a shrouded figure in the world of assassination. He was supposed to be a merc, going where the most money paid him. But who would pay to have these experimental facilities destroyed when most of them had been long out of use? Also, once upon a time the Soldier had only worked Russian contracts for a number of years... It was a mystery, he was a mystery, and as to what the connection was between the Soldier, SHIELD, and the moles, Natasha didn’t know. Yet. It was time to go home, but first she had to report her findings to the Director, and then investigate the Triskelion for anyone acting out of character, she would finish this mission and then go to Barton. The job always came first, that had been Clint’s first lesson, oddly enough that had been the Red Room’s too.
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(3m)abny
Tony led Thor straight to the bar in his penthouse, leaning the umbrella against the couch on his way. He then had JARVIS order some pizza, 5 different pies. Thor looked around trying to pinpoint the origin of JARVIS’ voice. “An invisible servant! Midgard must be more like Asgard than I thought!” Thor exclaimed. Tony smiled and gestured around them.
“I created him actually. JARVIS helps me with my work and runs this building…and my life. He is an extremely advanced A.I; I’m not sure how to put that in Viking, uh… He’s a soul powered by electricity, er-lightning?” Thor frowned.
“We do have technology on Asgard.” Thor said. Tony’s eyes widened mischievously.
“You do?” Tony asked. Thor nodded sagely.
“In point of fact Asgardian technology is far superior to Midgard’s.” Thor said arrogantly.
“It is? So the Einstein-Rosen Bridge that you arrived on would be powered through a convex redundant spatial fissure, yeah?” Thor frowned further and rubbed the handle of the hammer hanging from his side.
“I do not know of these words which you speak.” Thor said, annoyed. Tony smiled.
“Yeah, I didn’t think you would.” Tony muttered. “Annnyways. Most of my furniture and appliances have their own A.I.s or are run by JARVIS.” He said more loudly as he moved behind the bar and poured out a splash of Scotch for himself. “So what’s your poison?” Tony asked. Thor’s hammer slammed shockingly into his fist and his eyes blazed.
“You wish to poison me Man of Iron? For what purpose would you do this, and why would I tell which poison would harm me? You will not find me easy prey!” Thor bellowed moving menacingly toward Tony. Tony held up his hands, one with the glass of scotch still gripped in it.
“Whoa, whoa there, Muscles. It’s just a saying, from you know, Midgard? It means, what do you want to drink?!” Tony said. Thor stopped and lowered his eyes and hammer in shame.
“Ah…I see, my apologies once again, I will have whatever you think satisfactory. I am still trying to fathom the customs of this world-my world and have much to learn.” Thor said quietly.
“Your world?” Tony asked as he poured Thor a glass of scotch as well.
“I have forsaken my home to live here on Midgard permanently with my Jane, there is nothing left for me on Asgard.” Thor said sadly, seating his large bulk on the small stool in front of the bar.
“That must be hard.” Tony said consolingly. Thor nodded grimly.
“The decision was difficult, yes, but necessary. I could no longer split my life between worlds, nor could I ask Jane to leave her home for mine, and Midgard needs me here.” Thor took the drink Tony offered, eyed it, and then chugged it back. His eyes widened, pleased.
“This is good, Anthony! Another!” Thor yelled and then threw the glass onto the floor, shattering it across the marble. Tony almost jumped out of his skin and then gripped at his fast beating heart.
“Shit! Don’t do that!” Tony yelled desperately. Thor looked up regretfully.
“Jane has told me not to do this before, it was a very pleasing brew, and for a moment I had forgotten myself. In Asgard that is how we show our appreciation for a good drink.” Thor said.
“Asgardian cup makers must be making a mint.” Tony said to himself, and then he moved around the bar to assess the damage and groaned piteously. “Ugh, my poor glass, what did he do to you my darling?” Tony said while looking at the remains on his floor disconsolately. Thor almost fell off his stool in shock and stood up, moving gracelessly towards the broken glass on the floor.
“Was that another of your creations Man of Iron, was it…sentient, one of you’re A.I.’s?” Tony just gaped at him. Thor became even more distressed. “I have harmed a being beneath your roof while being your guest. Please tell me what I can do to make amends for this blunder, I would give anything!” Thor said pleadingly. Tony lifted his head, hopeful, a gleam in his eyes.
“Anything?” He asked slowly. Thor bowed his head.
“Anything you wish Anthony and if it is within my power it is yours!” Thor intoned earnestly. Tony held up a finger.
“First call me Tony, and second, come live here with me at the tower.” Tony said.
“You want me to live in your spire?” Thor asked, confused.
“Why not? You could bring Jane Foster, there’s more than enough room, and many of the others of the team are already living here.” Tony said shrugging. Thor looked off to the side.
“… I shall, discuss this invitation with my lady.” He said, considering. Tony looked back down at the shattered glass.
“I thought you had said, anything.” Tony said mournfully, pouting. Thor looked back at him and grinned, nodding his head decisively.
“Very well, let it not be said that Thor is not a god of his word, this spire shall become my new home!” He yelled enthusiastically reaching up to pound Tony on his shoulder in camaraderie. Tony smiled, rubbing his shoulder, and moved back to the bar to get more alcohol as JARVIS announced that the pizzas had arrived.
“Good. It’s settled, so lets get smashed, not Hulk smashed, but like drink smashed, but not your kind of drink smashing. Ugh, never mind, let’s just drink, have pizza, and you can tell me your problems. Then I’ll show you your new awesome digs!”
“I did not understand all your words friend Tony, but I believe I agree with them all. Let us get…smashed, and I shall tell you of all my recent adventures and sorrows!”
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Loud drunken bawdy singing echoed along the vents of Avenger tower, reaching the spy currently lurking in the duct system of the Avenger floor’s common room. He had discovered this floor weeks ago, though Stark had yet to give them the run of it. Clint Barton figured that Tony was still tweaking some of the details, or maybe waiting until the entire team showed up. Clint wasn’t sure. He followed the sound of the drunken voices until he ended up on what he had assumed was Thor’s floor, the large barrels of mead had given him a clue. He found Tony, in Iron Man pajamas, sitting with the Almighty God of Thunder himself, trading back and forth all the drinking songs they knew as they tossed back the mead in the gilded hall that Stark had designed to make the alien feel at home. Clint shook his head at the picture and at yet another addition to their growing team, before quietly backing out to go to his own floor. He couldn’t help wondering when Nat would end up coming here. He didn’t doubt it would happen. Tony Stark seemed to know what he was doing when he rebuilt this tower. Barton left the vents on his floor and climbed up a ladder to the loft where his bed was. It was an open space that looked out over his simplistic living room and kitchen. It had been designed perfectly for him. It all confirmed it, Tony knew what he was doing, and frankly, Clint was just glad someone did.