Cruel Vengeance

En Route to Sinaloa Warehouse

November 2011

“Clint. Loki.” Natasha eased into the space between them.

Loki glanced over at her, face inscrutable, before he looked back out the cockpit. “Romanoff.”

“We were doing so well with the first names,” she said, a wry smile twisting her lips. “Don’t quit on me now.”

“Usage of one’s given name is an informality I reserve for those whose closest associates do not make habits of throwing knives at me,” Loki said.

Natasha held back a sigh. He’d gone straight back to prickly and formal, retreating behind the walls she’d watched slowly coming down. She hadn’t been in the Tower when he first showed up, but assumed it must’ve been something like this: indifference or vague amusement on his face, formal language and aloof posture holding everyone at arm’s length. It was a defense mechanism, not too different from her own.

“Technically he only did it this one time, so I don’t know if you can call it a habit,” Clint observed.

Loki cast him a sharp glance. “I see. You are… tag-teaming me, to use a phrase you will comprehend.”

“Oh, stop with the supremacist bullshit,” Natasha said, faintly exasperated. “I’m not going to apologize for him, but I will try to make you understand that he’s having a tough time adjusting. And he wouldn’t walk into battle with an unprepared, untested… ally… at his back.”

“I understand perfectly well,” Loki said smoothly. “That is why the good James Barnes still breathes.”

Clint shook his head. “Dude, I’m not sure how you pulled it off, but I like you, so please don’t ruin that now by killing Natasha’s boyfriend. Things might get awkward.”

“Do not allow it to occur again,” Loki said.

“It won’t.” Natasha glanced back. “Sam’s talking to him. He’s dealt with adjustment issues before.”

Loki’s interest was brief, and quickly hidden, but she played roles for a living just as much as he did, and she caught it. “And you, Agent Romanoff?” he asked. “What of your own ‘adjustment issues,’ as you so aptly phrased it?”

She gave him a smile that was all teeth and no humor. “I had help too. You’re sitting next to him. My issues are quite firmly under control. Can’t say the same for you.”

“God of Chaos, do you not remember?” Loki said. “I exist to keep things interesting for you mortals.”

“Well, you’re doing a stellar job,” Clint said. “No, don’t touch that, you’ll blow up the plane.”

Loki pulled his hand away from the dashboard. “You jest.”

“Half of it,” Clint said.

“Why does that button even exist?” Natasha asked.

“Long story involving weird leech-drone things from China.”

“Say what now?”

Clint snickered. “There are parts of my life you don’t know about, okay, Natasha?”

“There shouldn’t be,” she said, faintly indignant. How had he gone on missions involving leech drones that she hadn’t heard about?

“Not that this domestic squabble is not amusing,” Loki cut in smoothly, “but if you must continue, I must beg to be excused.” His tone made it clear he wasn’t making a request.

“Chill,” Clint said lightly. He glanced over. “Fine, Tasha, what was Bruce talking about? Seemed like he was getting a little… heated.”

“JARVIS didn’t tell you?” Natasha asked.

The AI joined their conversation. “Unless the topic of discussion contains information pertaining to a threat to Mr. Stark or his associated interests, I am not at liberty to share the contents of private discussions.”

“Except with Tony,” Clint said.

“Mr. Stark has clearance allowing him access to any of my files at any time,” JARVIS said tonelessly.

“Well, in case you were curious,” Loki said, “Banner seems to have taken umbrage with a comment made by Rogers, and quite enthusiastically exposed the hypocrisy of Romanoff, Barnes, or Rogers should they be angry with me for… understating… my abilities. Given that they do the same.”

Natasha stared at him. “You heard us?”

“Evidently,” he responded, voice quite dry.

“Even my ears aren’t that good,” she said speculatively.

Loki raised an eyebrow. “Forgetting Banner’s tirade so easily, Black Widow?”

“Hardly,” she said. “I’ve got red in my ledger and I know I’ll never wipe it out.” It was a reference to their conversation on the helicarrier, deliberately dropped to bring back a moment of connection between them, no matter how complicated and baggage-laden that moment might be. “Bruce is right. I can’t blame you. I am curious as to what, precisely, your limits are.”

“Same,” Clint muttered. “If only so I can avoid them.”

“You have not seen them reached yet,” Loki said. “Neither those on my power, nor those on my tolerance.”

It was a warning, and not a subtle one. She considered pushing him on it, but decided her goal right now was to smooth things over, not stir up his issues (that could come later, when they weren’t on the verge of a big mission and he could deal with his demons in relative peace) so she backed off. “He was right, you know,” Natasha said instead. “You might think yourself a monster or a god, but you’re far from the only one on this plane with depths people run from.”

“Do you think you’re a god?” Clint asked frankly. Natasha would have to thank him later for playing along with her so well. His easy manner and well-timed interjections kept things balanced. Kept Loki at ease. Relatively. “Or a monster? Or something else?”

Loki shrugged. “Cannot one be both?” he said, with a twist to his lips that Natasha didn’t quite understand. There was some meaning layered into that sentence, something big and important and significant only to him.

But Loki blinked and recovered himself, and the hint of something more was gone. “Mortals see me as god or monster because my power is so beyond their ken,” he said arrogantly. “Particularly when last I visited this realm, in your species’ youth. Now I would be considered monster more than god.” Again, that hidden connotation…

“Lumped in with the rest of you,” he said, black humor coloring his words.

Natasha smiled grimly. He wasn’t wrong. “Guess that’s why we get along so well.”

“You call that little scene ‘getting along’?” Loki asked incredulously. “I would hate to experience your definition of ‘conflict,’ then.”

At least he was dropping the formality, a little. Progress.

“You at least got why he did it,” Clint pointed out. “So did I. There’s not a whole lot of people on this planet–realm, whatever–who would. Not sure what that says about me, that I understand the ninety-year-old assassin and the ancient space dude, but probably nothing good. How old are you anyway? Two hundred? Three? Wait, you were a Norse god, so…”

“By your years…” Loki paused to consider. “At least one thousand years of age. Perhaps older. I am not entirely comfortable converting between my calendar and yours.”

Clint’s mouth was open a little. He closed it. “That’s… uh. Okay.”

Less concerning now that I have such a hard time reading him, Natasha realized. Given that he’s had centuries of practice, it’s probably an accomplishment I can get anything out of him at all.

“God or monster?” Loki said with a razor-sharp smile.

“If you’re what’s called a monster, or a god, then I’m not much impressed with either,” Clint said, grinning at Loki. “Softie. You wouldn’t kill me. Stop posturing already.”

Loki blinked. Paused. “You mortals are…truly quite fascinating creatures. There are Aesir and Vanir, Alvar and Muspellir, even, who would not dare speak to me as you do.”

“I’m shaking in my boots,” Clint said, waggling a foot between his seat and Loki’s. “See? Terrifying.”

“I could kill you easily,” Loki said.

Natasha did her best to fade into the background. This was Clint’s show now. She’d set him up; now he could work his magic on Loki like only Hawkeye could.

“Yeah, but I’m ninety-five percent sure you won’t, and I pretty much have a five percent chance of dying on any given day, so it doesn’t change a whole lot,” Clint said flippantly.

Loki frowned. “Your mathematical language does not translate very well through Allspeak, but I do not believe that is a sound calculation–”

“Shut up and go with it,” Clint said.

Natasha knew Loki was picking through Clint’s possible meanings, looking for traps and hidden layers. It was what she would’ve done. What she did reflexively in any conversation. But Clint was guileless, and genuine in this case, and it seemed to work on Loki. Seemed to convince him that Clint really meant it: he wouldn’t take off in fear just because Loki was stronger than they’d thought.

The Asgardian at last dropped his walls slightly. “Fair enough,” he said, and a slight smile curled his lips.

“Who would’ve thought you would find friends on Midgard?” Natasha asked with a return smile.

Loki shrugged. Always graceful. “No one who was even passingly familiar with my reputation.”

“Don’t worry, I’m still not over the surprise,” Clint said.

“Miss Romanoff, Mr. Barton, Loki–I believe the rest of your team is assembling to prepare for the imminent operation,” JARVIS interrupted.

“Right.” Natasha glanced over her shoulder. Sam and Zima were done talking to each other; Zima’s shoulders and mouth were set in firm and uncompromising lines. He’d have to stew over whatever offer or help Sam had offered for a while; she’d let him think on it. Maria had reengaged Bruce, who was heading back as well and whose eyes were thankfully back to his normal brown. Tony was still sniping back and forth with Steve, but it seemed good-natured, and the satellite imagery was up and ready on the wall. “You say you’re a military strategist?” she said to Loki. “Want to prove it?”

“I would prefer to observe the tactical prowess of your team firsthand,” Loki said. “I was… otherwise engaged… during New York, and though I do not expect resistance here to be of the same scale, it should still be a fascinating study.”

“JARVIS, you’ve got the cockpit,” Clint said, climbing out of his seat. “You know, it’s not really comforting when you talk about us like bugs under a microscope, oh high-and-mighty Asser.”

“Aesir,” Loki corrected, and again something about his expression when he said it betrayed a hidden meaning. Natasha looked away so he wouldn’t notice her irritation that all she could get out of him was a hint of something below the surface.

Over a thousand years old, Nat. Not your fault. And he definitely wouldn’t take well to more questions. So she let it alone, for now.

“Right. That. My point stands.”

“I have little experience with Midgardians,” Loki said with a shrug. “Can I not be interested?”

Clint shook his head. “You’re so damn weird.”

Loki looked slightly offended.

“Coming from him, that’s a compliment,” Natasha assured him, and led the way back to the group.