A Shot Through The Heart (Book 1 of Love, Monsters and Magic.)

Chapter 2

Natasha's head snapped up at Tony's comment, her red hair whipping back quickly as she did so. She looked at Clint with a soft expression that almost touched her eyes. He was a very capable agent, he was trained to notice these things in people. Well, that’s what he told himself anyway. Standing up, her lingering gaze left Clint and turned towards Tony, throwing him an icy glare before she turned and left the room, mumbling something about going to the training room. Clint turned to glare at Tony.

“What the hell, Stark?” He fully intended to tear Stark a new one because that was bad move even for Tony Stark but Tony cut him off with a careless wave.

"Whoops! I don't blame you though, Robin; she does look great in a cat suit though," Tony said as if staring at Natasha’s body was the most casual thing in the world before he carried on talking to Bruce about science. Tony sure knew how to create an awkward situation, didn't he? He was a Stark after all, it was like second nature to him. Clint vowed he’d get him back, he knew how to stage a good accident.

Clint left the boardroom without a word and began to make his way to the training room. He had to make sure that she was okay although he knew before he got there that she would be prepared to shut him down before he even got the chance to ask her. On his way down, he passed the room that had once contained the large glass trap that was built to house the hulk should he decide to make an appearance but ended up holding Loki during his ‘stay’ here. It was also the room where Loki had embedded a knife in Agent Coulson’s back. The thought made Clint grimace at the painful memory. Phil was a good guy and Clint liked him. He didn’t deserve what he got.

After a short walk later down the quiet corridors, Clint arrived at the doors to the training room. Taking a deep breath and composing himself, he entered the training room. The sight he was greeted with upon entering shocked him because he never expected Natasha to look so vulnerable. Natasha sat against on the far side of the room, hidden out of plain sight by large boxes of ammunition, her head cradled in her hands. Crossing the room in haste, Clint dropped to his knees in front of her. He placed his hand on her knees in a gesture of comfort.

"Nat, are you okay?" He asked.

She had heard him enter the room but she never bothered to look up in acknowledgement. She knew it was Clint, she’d come to know him well in the years that they had worked together. His hands on her knees grounded her, and she struggled not to let out a soft sigh. His touch sent shivers across her skin, but she kept her composure as stormy always. His voice was soft when he spoke to her and she heard the worried tone underlying in the question. If he had been anybody else, he would have lost his hand simply for thinking her to be vulnerable. She forced a smile but she knew that he wouldn’t buy it.

"I'm fine, Clint. Don't worry." But he was worried and she knew it. Natasha never acted like this because she was strong and she always had been. She had to be independent, she had never known another way to act but for once in her life she was truly struggling to keep her calm. She tried to reassure him but she knew that she couldn’t lie to him.

It had only been three weeks since Loki had been shackled and hauled back to Asgard with Thor. The attack had been stopped and Natasha had been actively involved in helping to close the portal. But there was this feeling and it was eating her alive from the inside out. It kept her awake and even when she was involved in other things the feeling was still there niggling at the back of her brain. Loki wasn't finished with them yet; she knew he wasn't ready to give up. He was so close to taking total control, to taking away their will. He had tasted power and he wouldn't stop craving it until he had what he wanted. He escaped once, and his prison had been pretty impressive. Natasha didn’t think it would take much to break free of his confinements in Asgard, all things considered. Loki knew that he could get to them, and really hit them where it hurts. He was manipulative and the trickster god was good at playing games. He had proven his worth when he got Clint. He had seen inside his mind, she knew he would work them against each other. Feelings were dangerous. He had already played her feelings like a finely tuned instrument and she had stupidly shown weakness like a child. She knew that if he got to Clint, that he could have me. Loki saw what no one else saw; he saw how she felt towards Clint.

"I don't believe you," Clint confessed, sighing heavily. She wanted to wave away his concern, tell him that he need not worry about her.

"You're just going to have to believe me." Clint stared for a moment, studying her face and taking in her features. His grew sad.

"Loki. It's Loki, isn't it?"

"What? What are you talking about?" She hissed, stared at him in disbelief. How the hell could he have possibly have known that? Was she as easy to read as he made it seem?

"Your face. I remember when I came around after being under Loki's spell; you were there in the room beside me. Your facial expression then is the same as it is now. Please tell me what is wrong, Natasha." This was one of the reasons they got on so well together; he understood her but at times, it was one of the reasons she hated him.

 She chose her words carefully. He sat quietly, judging her expression and watched the internal turmoil in her head. Her head fell back against the cold wall behind her, her eyes closed.

"This is none of your business, Barton." She chewed the words, spat them out at him.

"If you can't keep your emotions in check, then yeah, it kind of is my business."

"Back off, Barton, or I swear to God I'll make you regret asking."

"Natasha-"

She cut him short. "You want to know, Clint, you really want to know?" He nodded but otherwise not saying a word. "Loki, he has a hold over all of us. He gets into our heads and takes snips of information to pull on our heart strings as if we were puppets. He uses the information to control us. He found out your secrets easily because you were under his command. You would have told him, in your given state, had he only asked," he grimaced at my comment, knowing that she was probably right in what she was saying. She went on. "We don’t know what he got you to tell him so we don’t know what he does. I have reason to believe he has something to hold against me. Call it gut instinct but it’s my job to get these sorts of things right." Lifting her head slowly, she looked down at him. His expression was slightly confused. It's cute not that she would ever willingly admit that of course.

"But Nat, Loki is on Asgard. Thor took him back, you saw. He isn't coming back," but she shook her head at his statement. "What are you afraid of? We beat him once, we can do it again."

"I..." she started but cut herself short before she gave the whole game away."Nothing."

Natasha was acting really strange and Clint knew that she was still hiding something from him but he didn’t want to press her too hard. He didn’t want her to think that she was prying for information from her but he genuinely was concerned about her. If she wanted to tell him, if she wanted to talk to him about what was truly bothering then she could. They had been friends for long enough for that, at least. Together they sat quietly on the floor but the silence wasn’t awkward really. It was more relaxing if Clint had to be totally honest with himself. It wasn’t often that they could get moments of silence especially in their line of work, so they revealed in the moment. He considered asking her to dinner, he could do it if he wanted to. He wasn’t afraid of doing it, at least he told himself that he wasn’t.

He would do it, it was now or never.

"Natasha?" She looked at him.

"Yes, Clint?" Him heart started hammering heavily against the inside of his chest. Here goes nothing, he thought to himself.

"I... Can I take you to dinner?" He asked. He tried his best to sound relaxed and confident but he failed horribly. Miserably, really. She closed her eyes and he waited for an answer. It seemed like an eternity before she spoke.

"Are you asking me out on a date, Agent?”

“I have reason to believe that I am,” he confirmed.

“Let me think about it," she said, opening her eyes and smiling. She jumped to her feet in a swift movement and walked out of the room with the smile on her face getting wider. This looked hopeful. She stopped at the door and speaking to me from over her shoulder, her back still to me. "Oh, and Barton? You even press into my matters like that again and I'll make sure you have to eat your food through a straw." She promised and my God, was she serious.