Chapter Text
Loki bided his time, knowing he would have to choose his moment well. He wanted to catch Natasha off guard and alone. He didn’t want her “avenger” friends interrupting them again.
Finally, the perfect opportunity presented itself.
She attended a celebration in honor of the completion of one of the stunted towers these sad beings called “skyscrapers”. Her assignment was a mystery to him, but of no matter - the important thing was that she was on this mission alone.
He wore a dark suit to the affair, the only Midgardian garments he deemed fit to wear. He knew he looked good, and smirked as mortal heads turned. Surely Natasha could not fail to favor him tonight.
The party itself was disappointing, a mass stinking of sweat and drink, and he easily cut through the crowd to find his quarry.
She was smiling, an event so rare he had to look again to make sure it was her. But yes, those full lips, the turn of her wrist as she talked to her companions, all of these he were familiar. Her red hair, longer now, was arranged in a knot of curls on top of her head, and bounced when she laughed (laughed!) in conversation. Deadly and delicious, the poor fools had no idea who they were dealing with.
At last she left the ballroom, and he followed her into the dark hallways.
The first thing he noticed was that her dress was backless, he could see a single silvered scar peeking out of the left side as she walked. The swing of her hips were almost as alluring as the chilling detachment that instantly fell over her features as she set to work.
Silently, he’d followed her to an empty room that contained a large table and little else. Just as he blocked the only exit she spun around to face him.
“Loki.”
She already had her weapon trained on him. So clever, this one.
Her eyes scanned him with calm efficiency. He could guess her thoughts; she was assessing his strengths and weaknesses, always calculating.
“Did you miss me, Agent?” he smiled.
“You’ve been tailing me since Prague,” she answered flatly.
He hid his surprise. How could she have known? He had been so careful to cover his tracks. Oh, she WAS good.
“Very perceptive.” He stepped closer, glancing at her weapon. “That little thing cannot kill me, you know.”
“No, but it’ll hurt like hell. Why are you here?” She looked bored, as though holding a god at gunpoint was keeping her from more exciting pursuits. It was time to make things interesting.
“Direct and to the point. I came for you.”