Chapter Text
It was a little past two in the afternoon, Skye bored out of her skull waiting for Grant to finish his meeting, when the techie realized she was being watched. The perpetrator was a gorgeous green-eyed redhead of medium height, wearing black casual clothes and… well, a very unnerving stare. Honestly, if not for that last bit, Skye would be tempted to hit on her. As it was, the prodigy was contemplating barging in on Grant’s meeting, just in case.
She never got the chance, since Red was heading her way. She moved with the smooth grace of a panther; by the time she seated herself on the bench beside the younger female, Skye was full-out staring with no subtlety to speak of.
A kind smile was offered. “Natasha,” the other woman introduced herself.
“Oh my god,” Skye gasped in sudden understanding, completely missing the outstretched hand. “You’re the Black- er, one of the- I mean- I had to listen to a month’s worth of rants from Fitz about you!”
Natasha - Agent Romanoff - quirked a brow at her, amused. “I wasn’t aware he held me in such high regard…”
Skye couldn’t help her answering scoff. “Oh please, call it what it is- a crush.”
The redhead laughed. “I’ll have to thank him, then.”
And just like that, Skye’s bubble burst. “Oh.” Well, it probably shouldn’t surprise her. For an organization of spies, she’d found that very few were legitimately interested in the same sex.
Natasha smiled again, knowingly, and checked her phone when it beeped. She stood. “Duty calls,” she said. “I’ll see you around, Skye. We should get dinner sometime.” She waved and left.
Skye was unashamed to watch the sway of her hips as she went. Until Grant coughed beside her. “Um-”
“Shut it,” Skye said flatly. He obeyed.
xXx
“I understand you met Agent Romanoff.”
Ruh-roh. That was Coulson’s Daddy voice. Slowly, Skye turned in her chair and batted her lashes at him. “We’re getting dinner.”
“Dinner.”
“Don’t worry, she’ll have me back by curfew.”
Coulson frowned from his spot in the lab doorway. “You should be careful, Skye. Agent Romanoff rarely shows interest in someone for personal reasons.”
The brunette grimaced at him. “C’mon, Dad, I’m a big girl, now. I can vet people for myself. And I doubt she’d have any reason to kill me, before you suggest it- we’re both SHIELD. Don’t worry so much.”
With a sigh that said he knew a lost battle when faced with one, the man left her alone, and Skye pouted a little. Grant must have ratted her out. Men.
The text message alert on her phone chimed, and she pulled it out. The number was blocked. ‘When do you touch down next?’
Curious, Skye hit reply and wrote, ‘Who is this?’
‘Natasha.’
Skye felt a giddy thrill sweep through her chest, and grinned as she responded. ‘Idk. When duty calls, I guess.’
‘Can you get leave for Thursday evening?’ the - incredibly hot - redhead asked.
‘Maybe. I’ll have to ask my Dad.’ Skye got up and started out of the lab. She was almost to Coulson’s office when she received a reply.
‘Dad?’
Skye giggled. ‘CO.’ She knocked on Coulson’s door.
“Come in,” he called.
The brunette stepped through the door and smiled at him. “Can I have leave Thursday night?”
Coulson frowned. “Why?”
“Uh, ‘cause I work myself to the bone for you and deserve a little R&R?” she suggested as her phone chimed in her hand.
He just kept frowning. “... Fine.”
Cheering, Skye beamed at him. “Thanks!” she chirped, and all but danced out of the office, glancing at Natasha’s text.
‘Oh.’
She smiled and sent a quick reply. ‘It’s on! BTW- how DID you get my number?’
‘:)’
Spies.
xXx
As Skye sat waiting in a New York City cafe, fully caffeinated and vibrating on nerves, she wondered if she wasn’t over-dressed. Hazel eyes flicked down to the gauzy bottom hem of her sky-blue skirt, then the translucent black half-sleeve of her blouse. She had no idea where they were going on this excursion; Natasha had simply told her they were meeting here. When Skye asked about dress code, she’d only gotten the word ‘Nice’ in answer. The redhead had been unreachable since.
Not for the first time, the techie wondered if Natasha had forgotten. SHIELD life was hectic enough, the brunette was well aware of how easy it was to let one’s personal life slip away.
Sighing, Skye lifted her plastic eco-friendly cup, only to realize she was trembling faintly. “Well, that’s enough coffee for me,” she muttered, putting it down. She pushed it away with a finger.
“Don’t like it?”
Skye jumped and turned to see Natasha approaching from the door. “It’s my third cup,” she defended, and held up a shaking hand. “I’m half convinced I might be phasing out of sync with reality.”
The pretty redhead laughed and sat down across from Skye, pulling the cup closer. She picked it up and sipped cautiously, then put it down with a grimace. “Wow, that’s a lot of sugar.”
Giggling a bit nervously, the younger female sat back in her chair. “I find it’s a common quirk with very smart people. We’re like bees.” She smiled. “Of course, there’s the occasional anti-sweet person.” She grinned pointedly at Natasha.
“Well.” The spy smiled back. “I’m not anti-sweet. But there is a limit.” She eyed the cup. “I like coffee in my coffee.”
The brunette let out a sheepish laugh and quickly changed the subject. “So. What’s the itinerary? I’m pretty sure if I don’t know soon, I’ll implode.”
Natasha paused to give Skye’s outfit a once-over, and apparently found it up to par, because she gave the techie a warm smile. “I have a standing invitation to a party with some friends,” she said. “But before we go, I need to hash out a few details with you.”
Skye’s brow went up. That was interesting. “Like?” she prompted.
“If anyone but Clint Barton asks, we’ve been dating casually for a month,” the redhead answered promptly, deadpan.
The techie blinked. Talk about weird? And that name was vaguely familiar… where’d she hear it? “Um…” Skye frowned. Clint Barton- oh! One of the- a SHIELD Agent. Right. “And Agent Barton?”
“Redirect inquiries my way,” Natasha said with a smooth shrug.
For a second, Skye considered what that meant. Natasha was worried about perception, and had obviously already said some things about them - though not necessarily specifically them - that needed to be backed up. The brunette wasn’t really bothered that she may have been picked up precisely for this reason; if Natasha hadn’t found her attractive enough, she would have found someone else. It wasn’t like the redhead had limitations of people wanting into her pants, and willing to lie to the woman’s friends to do it.
More importantly, the implication that Barton would be there probably meant these friends were the Avengers. Of course, they could also be SHIELD operatives, but Skye didn’t think so. Word on the street was that Natasha spent the vast majority of her time with the Avengers, rather than any co-workers (Barton being the exception). Still…
She offered a smile to the redhead. “Does this mean I get to meet the Avengers?”
Natasha relaxed and smirked back.
xXx
The Tony Stark met them in the lobby of Avengers Tower. “Dear God, you weren’t kidding.” His blue eyes raked over Skye assessingly, but she was far too busy battling techie-related urges to give it much thought. And also fangirling. A little.
“I said so,” Natasha was responding irritably. “Tony, this is Skye. Skye, this is- where are you going?”
Realizing her impulse check had been temporarily overridden, Skye backtracked away from the pretty shiny wall panel. “Sorry,” she blurted, taking the man’s hand and shaking it quickly. He looked amused. “I was just coming to the sudden realization that you live in Candy Land.” Pause. “Is that a DNA interface? Can I touch it?”
Tony Stark grinned. “Yep, and no. Party’s upstairs. You’re late, but the big guy hasn’t returned with his date yet either, so you’re still golden.”
Smiling, Natasha slipped her arm through Skye’s. “Lead the way.”
Tony eyed Skye again briefly - he seemed weirded out by something - and led the way to the elevators. “So, how’d you crazy kids meet? Spy expo?”
Skye snickered. “How’d you guess? Or did the classified strippers you hired last week rat us out?”
He snorted. “You know, cyber stalking is wrong.”
“Fortunately, I have actual stalking to fall back on,” she shot back without missing a beat.
Tony laughed at that. “Okay, I approve,” he said to Natasha.
The redhead smiled enigmatically as the doors opened with a beep. Whatever she said was drowned out by the full force of Skye’s inner fangirl screaming in glee. So. Many. Avengers. “Shiny…” she breathed, letting her date pull her along into a massive lounge.
“Tasha! Who’s the babe?” a voice called as a familiar blond male approached with an unfamiliar redhead half a step behind.
Natasha released Skye and pulled Barton aside, leaving the techie with unscheduled ginger. She stuck out a hand. “Skye.”
The woman smiled and took the proffered limb. “Pepper. Nice to meet you, Skye.”
“Ditto.” The brunette glanced around. “I have the overwhelming urge to hug the wall. This is the most brilliant- oh my god, muscles.” She stared across the room toward Captain America and some mild-mannered-looking dark haired man with a faint smile on his face. Wow those were some pecks. Didn’t anyone teach that man it was wrong to tease people?
Pepper laughed softly and followed her gaze. “You’re easily distracted.”
Skye gave her a flat look. “Not everyone has balls of steel and inhuman immunity to man meat. Most of us have to pick one.”
Pepper just smiled.
xXx
Eventually, Skye had been introduced to all the Avengers except Spider-man, who was absent. She did get to flirt with a cute photographer friend of Tony’s though, until Natasha dragged her away to show off to the tech man himself. They had a twenty minute argument debate about hacking methods, which was interrupted by Thor spilling mead down Skye’s shirt. She was hoping it was deliberate; an unamused Natasha escorted her away citing new clothing.
“You’re getting along well,” the redhead commented once they were alone in her dark, cool room.
Glancing about at the red, black and steel theme, Skye nodded. “Yeah. Actually, once you get past the yummy, distracting muscles, everyone is pretty cool. Rhodey was telling me about military drills at one point.” She grinned at the other woman.
Natasha turned away from her closet with a black shirt and jeans. Green eyes slid down Skye’s person. “Strip.”
Skye’s mouth went dry. She swallowed and opened it as the deadly woman stepped forward and set the clothes down on the end of the bed. Cool fingertips ghosted over her hipbones, diverting anything the techie may have said, and the soggy shirt was tugged up. Skye had no choice but to lift her arms, feeling rather like a school girl.
She only managed to find her voice when she noticed Natasha’s faint smirk as the shirt hit the floor with a wet plop. “You’re enjoying this.”
“You’re not?” Green eyes were amused.
Skye pouted. “I didn’t say that.”
Natasha tugged down on the zipper of Skye’s skirt and helped her step out of it. “Then what are you complaining about?”
“Absolutely nothing,” Skye sighed, watching the redhead pull away to reach for her clean clothes.
Skye smiled when her date was back with the shirt. Natasha smiled back, but promptly stiffened when Skye moved in to press a kiss to her mouth. A hand was suddenly on her shoulder, shoving her back. “No, don’t!”
The techie landed, sitting, on the end of the bed with a grunt. “What the…” She looked up just in time to see the door slamming behind the redhead.
Startled and confused, the brunette sat there staring after her for a while, trying to figure out what she’d done wrong. Then, the unsubtle hint finally sunk in, so she put her own sopping clothes back on and grabbed her purse off the floor. She paused a beat, fighting the stupid, childish urge to cry. She never cried on first dates. It was so lame.
“JARVIS?” she said finally, voice trembling. “Is there a cab number I can call?”
“Shall I call one for you, Miss Skye?” the AI asked immediately.
She sniffled. “Yes. Please. Thank you,” she mumbled.
“Of course.”
The brunette tugged up on her purse strap and left the room, only to find Barton standing in the hall outside. “Agent-?”
He pushed away from the wall. “Stay away from my partner, consultant,” he ordered thinly. He didn’t wait for a response and stalked away.
Skye stared after him, upset, a little scared, and now fuming. Jerk. Spies, all of them. They were all jerks! How dare he treat her like she’d done something wrong? she thought furiously as she went for the elevators. All she’d done was try to kiss a cute girl! A girl who, Skye would like to note, had been undressing her five seconds prior to that! Natasha was handing out all the signals! Skye was just very highly receptive to the idea of a little nookie.
She jammed her finger on the L button when she was inside the elevator, and angrily dashed away tears. God, she should have just listened to frickin’ Coulson for once. It would figure he’d be right about this, just like everything else.
The elevator dinged on the 20th floor, but the cute photographer took one look in at her and froze. She glared at him, prodding the ‘close doors’ button. “Take the next one,” the techie said irritably. Parker obeyed, to her relief, and she was left to fume on her own the rest of the way to the lobby.
Thankfully, it was deserted. The cab waited outside as promised. “Airport,” she said once seated; the cabbie didn’t argue and pulled away from the curb.
xXx
After Grant’s botched attempt to ask her what happened - she threw books at him until he fled her room - no one dared try again. For the most part, things settled down in the following week, and only a few days passed before the techie was able to put it behind her, deciding she didn’t need that kind of drama anyway.
Then she got a text. From Tony Stark.
‘You should come over for drinks. Bring your computer.’
She frowned, sitting in her bunk trying to wind down for some shut-eye, and hit reply. ‘Uh, my last visit didn’t go so well. Probably best if I just stick to my side of the philosophical debate that is SHIELD inter-relations.’
‘Awww, I’m not SHIELD. I’m Tony Stark.’
He had a point, but still, she thought it was better she just not deal with them. She didn’t answer him. He texted her again anyway.
‘She won’t be here. Scout’s honor.’
Skye smiled a little. ‘You’ve never been a scout.’
‘That is a blatant lie! Who told you that?! Was it Rhodey? I bet he was telling you all about it.’ And then, ‘C’mon, pleeeeaasseee?’
She grinned a little, already rethinking the idea. If she wouldn’t run into Natasha… Thoughtfully, she did a quick Google search and pulled a picture off the net, sending it to her phone. She then attached it to her reply and wrote, ‘Only if you wear this.’
There was a whole five minutes before he responded. ‘Deal.’
xXx
Skye arrived slightly past two the next Thursday, arms full of tech and a huge grin on her face. The doors opened for her as she approached. “Thanks, J-man!”
“You’re quite welcome, Skye,” JARVIS answered. “Tony’s in the penthouse suite.”
“Okie!” She beamed and entered the elevator.
On floor 13, it stopped and opened, Bruce Banner stepping on. “Oh, hello. Skye, right?” he asked, smiling at her.
The techie smiled back and nodded. “One and only. Nice to see you again, B.”
“Likewise,” he responded warmly, pressing the ‘30’ button. He didn’t bat an eyelash at the nickname. “Here to see Tony?”
“Mmhm!” Smart guy. “We’re spending the night with our two best friends- tech and booze.”
The raven-haired chemist laughed. “Sounds about right. Have fun,” he said as the elevator stopped. “Tell him I said he’s late.”
She waved awkwardly around her belongings as the doors shut again. Two floors up, they opened. She froze, and Clint frowned at her, stepping aboard. They passed a few floors in silence. Then, “I’m not the boogie man.”
The techie swallowed. “Didn’t say you were.”
“You’re pressed up against the wall, Skye.”
“Uh… It’s comfy?” His expression remained bland. “Um, right. Look, you don’t gotta worry. Agent Romanoff is hot, but I can take a hint. Especially one that runs away like I have herpes.”
Agent Barton sighed and rolled his eyes, scrubbing a hand through his short hair. “That’s not why she- uhg. Just… call her.”
The elevator beeped as Skye blinked. “Huh?”
“Skye! Took you long enough.” Tony was standing in front of the elevator, dressed as promised. “Sorry, Clint, she’s mine. Get your own!” He reached in and pulled the mentally stumbling brunette out. “Later!”
“Tony-!” Clint began angrily, but the doors were closing between them.
Skye eyed the billionaire, particularly his very pink suit. "He could kill you with his pinky,” she pointed out after a beat.
Tony grinned as he turned her toward the living area behind them. “Could. Won’t. I’m Tony Stark.”
She snorted. “Fair enough.” The brunette took her stuff to the coffee table by the couch as Tony went to mix some drinks for them both. When she bent to plug in her laptop, her cell tumbled out of her jeans pocket. Skye paused, remembering Clint’s advice- well, demand, really. Call her.
That seemed a bit… abrupt, though, she mused as she slid the plug into the outlet built into the table.
She scooped up the phone and sent a text saying simply, ‘hello’. It couldn’t hurt. Worst case scenario, Natasha ignored her.
After a minute, Tony came back to find her eying the stubbornly silent cell. “Just so you know, I have at least five different pizza joints on speed dial. Or, JARVIS does, anyway.” He handed her something orange and red in a tumbler.
Skye beamed at him. “Thanks. Pizza actually sounds amazing.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Moment of truth, then… Anchovies?”
She snorted. “So long as you don’t put pepperoni with them, I’m alright with it. Fitz eats that combo all the time, and it’s gross.”
It was Tony’s turn to look pleased. “Skye, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friends-with-benefits-ship.”
Skye pressed a hand to her chest to cover up the fact that hello, just propositioned by Tony Stark! “Be still, my beating heart!”
The billionaire grinned and sat next to her with a drink and tablet. “JARVIS, pizza! Hold the pepperoni!”
“Yes, sir,” the AI answered dutifully.
“Now. Tell me about your glorious talents, maiden-fair, and maybe I’ll convince Thor to flash you,” Tony declared self-importantly.
She couldn’t help smiling gleefully, and immediately launched into a summary of skills.
Over the next five hours, they went back and forth over several of his - and her - projects, and even started one together. Skye’s phone remained silent, but she hardly noticed. Pizza came and went, followed by subs and shawarma - which was delicious, by the way - and a brief visit from Bruce about some sort of chemical compound that she was too buzzed to focus on. By seven, they were both adequately drunk and playing the rate game on various people in SHIELD.
“Oh no, no, no- he’s at least a five!” Skye said loudly, as the elevator dinged in the background somewhere. She’d lost track of where it was. Left? Right? Behind her?
Tony looked pained. “No, I wouldn’t give him higher than a two- and that’s actually generous.”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay, just because you’re prejudiced against him, doesn’t mean he’s no longer attractive.”
Tony stuck his tongue out and looked past her. “Ha- scale of one to ten, Director Furious’ attractiveness. Go!”
Skye managed to twist around as the female voice answered. “Four.” Natasha had eyes only for the brunette though.
“Oh, c’m on!” Tony was whining, but the redhead cut him off.
“I’m going to borrow Skye for a second, Tony-”
“Oh, can I watch?”
Natasha glared at him. “No.”
Skye got up before Tony could endanger his life (further). “Lead the way,” she told the other female, and followed her - wobbling slightly - to the elevator.
No sooner had the doors closed was Natasha pushing Skye against the wall and kissing her. The techie flailed, confused, and barely managed to kiss her back before the spy was pulling away, leaving Skye with mental whip-lash. “Huh??”
Natasha stopped the elevator. “Sex is a weapon, Skye. My weapon. That’s…”
Skye blinked a bit drunkenly, and was startled a second later by sudden understanding. “Oh! Oh! I’m so sorry! I didn’t even realize-” click. “Wait, does this mean you do like me?”
Natasha was eying her with a neutral expression. Duh.
Skye nodded. “Right. Stupid question,” she admitted, hashing it out as it went through her head. “You brought me into your home and introduced me to your family.” She gave the redhead the brightest smile she could manage. Drunk. “Um… can we start over?”
Something about the spy seemed to relax, though she didn’t so much as twitch. “No, but… we can keep going if you like. Just…”
“No sex? Er… Ever?” Skye asked, torn and a little dismayed.
Natasha shook her head. “Just for now. Please.”
Relieved, the brunette smiled and nodded. “No problem. I can wait. Take things slow, and all that.” She grinned at her… girlfriend? Oh who cared- labels were overrated anyway.
The redhead smiled back slightly. “Good… I’m glad you texted me.”
Skye snorted. “I actually thought you hated me or something… Hawkeye said I should call. Texting was less invasive…” She blinked a few times when Natasha sprouted a twin. “Woah… Good scotch,” the techie murmured unsteadily.
Natasha braced a steadying hand on Skye’s shoulder, green eyes concerned. “Skye? How much have you- Skye!”
The brunette’s legs gave out, skin tingling pleasantly. “I can’t…” Darkness was narrowing her field of vision to the spy’s face. Overhead, she could hear JARVIS’ voice, but couldn’t make out the words.
Natasha was spinning, mouth moving. The words didn’t reach the techie. “What? Can’t…” Her eyes wanted to close. “Hel…”
Nothing.
xXx
“Skye! Hold on! Goddammit, Tasha…”
Skye was on the plane, standing alone in the conference room. “Hello? Coulson? Fitz? May!” she called.
No answer.
“No response. Tony’s the worst. Save him! Don’t worry about the women…”
“I can save you.”
Startling, Skye spun to see a beautiful raven haired woman leaning against the conference room wall, acid-green eyes fixed on the techie. When Skye said nothing, she continued. “They won’t. They’re more concerned with Romanoff and the man of Iron.” A sinful smile spread across red-painted lips. “Just give me something in return, Skye.”
“Agent Romanoff is in the clear, but-”
“Who are you?” Skye asked, staring at the woman. “What do you want?” She knew she wasn’t as important as the Avengers. It was just fact.
“Skye-!”
“Get back! I’m trying to…”
The woman smiled. “I want Agent Coulson. His life is mine.”
Skye shook her head. “I refuse.”
A loud keening. “Save him! Save Tony-!”
Skye sobbed and turned toward a window behind her, through which she could see Tony’s fuzzy face. “No! Tony!”
“Clear!” A buzz, a thump. The keening went on. Skye’s eyes fluttered.
“Then perhaps his life is your price,” a deep male voice purred in her ear.
Skye stiffened, and slowly turned. Norse God and general alien supervillain Loki stood behind her, smirking smugly. “... save him, and then I’ll tell you where you can find the staff instead.”
The world flickered. The keening stopped.
The smile froze on his face. “Why would I want it?”
She swallowed. “To destroy it.”
Someone was sobbing; white tiles swam over Skye’s head. A warm hand clenched hers.
“Call it.”
“Time of death, 5-”
Someone close by suddenly sucked in a loud breath. “Oh my god!”
Skye’s eyes closed, her last sight the back of Clint’s head. She slept without dreaming.
xXx
It was soft conversation that woke her, somewhere nearby. She’d been moved and the room was dark. To her right was a partition and muted light.
“It was a miracle, all of it,” a familiar voice was saying. “That’s what the doctor told me. Neither of them should be alive, Tash, much less healing so rapidly…”
“Thor thinks Loki saved them.” That was Natasha’s voice, followed by a sigh. “I don’t know, Clint.” A paused. “How is she?”
“Alive. Doing better than Tony, even. Agent Ward says it’s a SHIELD thing.”
A snort. “That’s specific.”
Skye sighed. Grant was here? What about Agent Coulson? And Tony was…
She drew a shaky breath. Loki. That was her doing. She had convinced him to save Tony. And it had worked.
The dividing curtain was batted aside, and Skye automatically closed her eyes. A beat passed, and the curtain rattled again. Skye kept her eyes closed, listening. A small brush of air-
She swallowed a smirk. “Clint… stop reading my diary,” she mumbled as if in her sleep. “You’ll see… everything… No, no…”
“Oh, no, you caught me. I’ll have to burn the evidence,” he drawled, and clicked a lighter. She opened her eyes and smiled at him. He let the lighter go out. “How do you feel?”
The brunette grimaced. “A bit like someone ran me over with a tractor. Is Nat-?”
“She’s good, right, Tasha?” Clint smirked at the closed partition. The redhead’s glare was tangible.
Skye reached out and grasped the bed handle, half pushing and half pulling herself upright. Clint’s protests were ignored in favor of battling down a wave of nausea. She lost the fight, but not before he held a bin under her nose.
After her stomach was empty, Clint moved the bucket to the counter and she took the opportunity to throw her blankets off and move to the edge of the bed. She couldn't stop shivering.
“Holy- dammit, Skye! Stop, what are you- doing!”
Half off the bed, Clint in her way, she toppled forward into him. He steadied her on her feet. “Skye…?”
She shoved him back amidst frustrated tears. “Stop. I … Nat-”
Cool fingertips pressed against her lips and she looked up at the redhead. She threw her arms around slim shoulders. “I’m so sorry!”
“Oh man,” Clint breathed.
Natasha rubbed her back soothingly, edging the techie back to sit on the edge of the hospital bed. “Alright, it’s okay, not your fault, Skye…”
After a minute, Skye pulled back, feeling wrung-out and more than slightly drugged. “Sorry,” she said, giving Natasha a smile. Clint was noticeably absent.
The redhead shrugged and moved the IV she was attached to so she could sit next to Skye on the bed. “Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault- none of it is, Skye. Someone poisoned Tony’s scotch. You both nearly died.”
Snorting, the techie leaned her head on Natasha’s shoulder. “‘Nother day in the life then. Which reminds me…” She straightened and eyed her companion. “Have any of my team showed up?”
Natasha smiled. “Agents Ward, Fitz and Simmons. There’s also a message from your CO. He says to call him.”
The brunette felt a little warm inside at that. “Aw, he’s so cute, worrying about me!” she said, smiling.
“Doesn’t seem too worried,” Natasha replied, face unreadable. “He isn’t even here.”
Skye winced. “Well you know how it is,” she said as vaguely as she could. She couldn’t tell how well that was working, though, because Natasha’s non-expression didn’t change. Quickly, the brunette babbled on. “He’s a busy guy. People to save, a team to wrangle, missions to do… Oh, and the plane, obviously, has to keep that running…”
“Skye.”
The word almost made her flinch- it said everything Natasha wasn’t. It said Skye was a horrid liar, and terrible at deflection. It said that Natasha wasn’t fooled; she knew the techie was hiding something big. Worst; it said Natasha was about to ask what.
The redhead leaned into Skye’s personal space, lips a fraction of an inch away. She met Skye’s gaze, green eyes searching.
The door slammed open. “OH! Oh my goodness, sorry, I’ll- we’ll come back-”
“Huh? Why-?”
“No, no, shoo, out!”
As quickly as they’d entered, FitzSimmons were fleeing in a cloud of embarrassment and confusion. Grant was left in their wake, looking devastated. Natasha moved to slide off the bed, but froze when Skye interlaced their fingers firmly. “Agent Ward.”
He flinched. “Uh, Skye, I… You’re up.”
“You’re interrupting,” she returned as calmly as she could with her heart in her throat. Natasha was still stiff beside her, and she wondered what the redhead was thinking.
Grant forced himself to stand a little straighter and nodded once. “Sorry. I’ll go. Agent Coulson wants you to contact him ASAP.”
The door clicked shut behind him, pitching their shared hospital room into silence. A beat passed. Natasha wasn’t looking at her, and Skye was panicking. There was no way the redhead didn’t hear that. Damn Grant and his big mouth!
“Natasha, I-”
The spy was sliding off the bed, though, and Skye closed her mouth. Natasha stepped over to the phone on Skye’s bedside table and held it out. “Call him.”
xXx
The next morning, a hand on Skye’s shoulder was shaking her awake, and she blinked up at the pair standing there. “Agent Coulson?”
He smiled down at her, May behind him looking as unmoved as always. “Hey, Skye. How do you feel?”
She sat up, rubbing her eyes sleepily. When May held out a glass of water, she accepted it with a grateful smile. “Thanks. I’m okay. Sore, tired, a little drug-foggy. They want Tony and I to stay for 48 hour observation.” She winced as she threw off her blankets. “Hang on, nature calls.”
The agent helped her out of bed, and she took her IV to the bathroom. She returned a few minutes later to find Clint and Natasha present, speaking quietly with Coulson and May. The conversation cut off when the door swung shut behind her. Natasha was unreadable, a trait she currently shared with May. Clint looked annoyed, but that seemed to be aimed mostly at Coulson. And her boss… Well, he was also unreadable, though in a pleasant elderly man sort of way.
“May,” Coulson said, looking to the woman, “Could you see if there’s anything Skye can eat?”
May shot him a glance, but nodded and left.
Skye looked between the remaining trio nervously. “Uh, should I go…?”
“Tony can’t know,” Coulson said over her, so she went back to her bed to watch.
Natasha crossed her arms and stared expressionlessly at the other agent. Clint scoffed. “Are you crazy?” he demanded incredulously. “You realize he was uncontrollable by anyone but Pepper for months, right?”
Coulson frowned. “I understand that, but-”
“You have no right to keep it from him,” Natasha said quietly.
The older man was quiet a beat. “He’ll dig,” he said finally. “Into everything, and I can’t have him finding out how I…”
Skye looked away, remembering their horrifying discovery. Coulson had begged for death. Begged…
Movement drew her eye to the camera mounted in the corner by the ceiling. It was shifting just slightly, focusing on Coulson. The man in question was reluctantly continuing. “...came back. It wasn’t good… I can’t have him going after that too.”
Skye sighed. “Too late.” They all looked at her, and she shrugged. “He hacked the camera.”
Natasha scowled at it, and shook her head. “He has a private room upstairs. You need to go talk to him.”
Coulson’s shoulders slumped. He hesitated, then nodded, looking to Skye. “I’ll be back, okay?”
The brunette nodded back. “Go on. No murder.”
“Of course not.” His expression was suspiciously blank as he left.
Clint exhaled in his wake. “So he’s your mysterious CO? So much makes sense now.” He gave Skye a small smile, which she returned meekly.
Natasha went back to her side of the room; she was still angry. Skye winced, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys… But, I mean, he said not to, and… God, you don’t understand what he was like when he found out! He shut himself away for over a week, and wouldn’t tell us anything. It was hard to watch- undoubtedly harder to experience. I couldn’t disobey his wishes…”
There was a clunk behind Natasha’s partition. Clint eyed the curtain. “Tasha?”
The divider was shoved aside noisily, and the redhead emerged with her bag of belongings. “I’m checking out,” she said, and added something in Russian to Clint. He nodded, bewildered.
Skye watched helplessly as the other woman left without a single word to her. She sighed. “I… am the biggest screw up in history,” she decided sadly.
Clint gave her a sympathetic smile. “You’re very good at it,” he agreed.
She shot him a glare. “Thanks.”
“Anytime.” He grinned and pulled up a chair. “So.” He pointed to a mysteriously appeared dart board on the wall with Loki’s picture pasted over it. “Wanna learn how to throw darts with lethal precision?”
She gave him a wide smile. “Clint, my friend, that is absolutely what I want to do right now.”
He snickered and handed her a sharp dart. She did okay.
xXx
Skye lay awake in the darkness, listening to the steady click click click of the clock on the wall the night they were cleared to leave the hospital. She’d ended up staying as long as Tony, half to keep him company and half because Fury wasn’t entirely sure it was safe to leave either of them to their own devices. Or so Coulson said.
Sighing, she rolled over onto her side, trying to close her eyes and sleep. The clicking changed to beeping, and her eyes flew open in fright, just as it had every time for the last three hours. The wall stared back at her, mutely.
“JARVIS?” she whispered to the dark, half hoping he wouldn’t answer.
Of course he did. “Yes, Miss Skye? What do you require?” the AI asked calmly.
She noted his volume was lower than normal. Perhaps in response to her whispering; she wasn’t sure. “Is Tony okay?”
JARVIS paused. “Yes, ma’am. He’s fine. He asks that you join him for coffee in his suite.”
Without hesitation, she pushed the blankets off of her and rolled out of bed. She finger-combed her hair in the elevator nervously, and smiled at Tony when she stepped into the penthouse living room. “Hi.”
Tony held up a pair of mugs. “Coffee? Us insomniacs should stick together. I also have the mini-bagels on the tray there if you’re feeling adventurous. No alcohol, though, they cleared it all out for now. Not that I imagine you want any…”
She smiled and accepted the mug he offered. “Good call.”
He pretended not to eye her as they both got settled on one of the couches, and she pretended not to notice in return. A few moments passed in companionable silence, neither quite feeling up to speaking for once, before she shifted in her seat to face him. He looked up and smiled at her, and she swallowed hard. Why wasn’t he angry with her, anyway? She’d kept Coulson’s existence a secret from day one. Mostly because of orders, but also because she hadn’t known how they’d react…
“Tony? Why aren’t you mad? I’m totally getting the silent treatment from Nat, but you’re…?” She gestured helplessly, at once hoping that she could convey her point and knowing she wasn’t. “I don’t get it?” That hadn’t been meant as a question, but apparently her mouth had other ideas.
Beside her, the billionaire exhaled slowly, staring down into his coffee like he was wishing it were alcohol. “You know, shockingly enough, that poison was actually meant for me?” His smile was bitter, the undercurrent to his words loud as a gong. He was blaming himself for it all, for everything, and how was it possible to do that with an ego as huge as his was?
She frowned and shook her head. “It’s not your fault, Tony, you know that, right? You couldn’t have known, and anyway, you almost-” She couldn’t say it, couldn’t admit it, because if she did…
“I almost died, yeah, I know,” he said for her, tone full of self-derision as he lifted his mug. He gulped down a good half of it and laughed. “It’s a habit of mine. Almost dying. Getting kidnapped. Holy crap, I’m like the D.I.D. of the Avengers.”
She winced, but he was giving her a strange look now. “Speaking of… What d’you think would prompt Loki to save me? Just out of curiosity. He’s not really the saving type, if you catch my drift. I keep wondering if he’s going to pop up and say, ‘hah! Psych! You’re actually dead, Tony, didn’t you get the memo?’”
Suddenly, she found her lap very interesting. “Hm… Who knows?” she hedged, around a sip of coffee. “Trade or something, maybe? That guy’s nuts, though. No understanding him at all. Maybe it was some weird unrelated reason, like he likes your shirt?”
Tony snorted and sat back against the cushions, thankfully looking away from her. “Whatever it was, least I’m alive, right?”
That felt like a trap. She half wondered if she said yes he’d accuse her of making deals with the Devil. “There’s that,” she said, hesitantly, after a second. She took another sip of coffee to avoid looking at him.
He shot her an unreadable look. “Yeah,” he replied mildly. A beat passed. “Foosball?” He smirked.
Smiling back at him, Skye got to her feet, and the other genius followed suit. “You’re on.”
xXx
Clint found them curled up on the couch around noon the next day, and woke Skye with a touch to her shoulder. He put a finger to his lips, blue eyes shifting to glance at Tony, who snorted softly and tightened his grip on Skye’s shoulders in his sleep.
Skye frowned. ‘What?’ she mouthed at the archer.
He smiled at her. “We’re going on a mission. Won’t be back for a few days,” he whispered against her ear, and politely ignored the shiver it sent down her spine. “I’ll text you if I can, to let you know we’re okay.”
She smiled at him. “Thank you,” she whispered back. “Be careful.”
Straightening, Clint reached out and brushed her hair out of her face. He left her there curled up in Tony Stark’s arms like an over-sized teddy bear. She exhaled slowly, and her bladder responded with a good morning. Uhg.
She looked up at Tony, and decided she really didn’t want to chance waking him up. Because, really, she’d never seen him sleep so peacefully. Or… at all, actually. Tony always seemed to be bouncing from here to there, jabbering away at people, taunting and teasing and joking around like he hadn’t a care in the world.
Of course, she wasn’t really around all the time, so she knew he had to sleep, it was just that she’d never been present for it, so it was a strange thing to witness. Also, the people she knew of late didn’t tend to sleep with her in the room. All spies and scientists- the former would leave and she was pretty sure the latter functioned solely on caffeine and science-dust. She wondered which category Tony fell into, or if - like he seemed to do with everything else - he simply made his own category and said ‘fuck you’ to the rest.
That was probably it, now that she thought about it. He wasn’t exactly a conformist. At all.
A soft hitch of his breathing drew her gaze back to his face, and she watched as his brow furrowed slightly. His grip around her shoulders tightened and he mumbled something incoherent. Dreaming, probably. She wondered what he dreamed about…
“Stop…” he muttered, grip getting uncomfortably tight. His breathing was speeding up, fingers digging into the skin of her arm. “Obie…”
Alarm bells started going off in her head, and she reached up, giving his arm a hard pinch. Tony woke with a start, eyes snapping open and immediately turning to her face. A beat passed before he loosened his hold. “Skye?”
She pulled back and smiled at him. “Hiya. You were having a bad dream, I think. I decided it’d be a good idea to wake you up. Want breakfast? Donuts and coffee, on you!” she chirped, jumping to her feet.
“Uh, yeah…” He blinked blearily after her as she waltzed to his en-suite kitchen.
Skye’s phone started to go nuts on the coffee table, and by the time she reached the table, Tony had it to his ear. “Hello, Agent-” He checked the screen, “Grant. Sorry, Skye can’t come to the phone right now. She’s being rather dirty in the kitchen…”
“Tony!” she yelped, lurching for him, but he vaulted the back of the couch to get away. “Give it back!”
“Mmhm. No, no, of course, I understand completely. She’s quite welcome, yes!”
“Tony,” Skye snarled, trying to chase him around the couch, but he darted off for the bedroom. “ANTHONY STARK GIVE IT BACK!!!”
“Yes, sure! Okay, have fun! Buh-bye!” He hung up, just as she crashed into him, sending them both toppling through the half-open door of his bedroom.
The room was a mess. Everything inside was shredded, ripped and clawed, like some sort of animal had been put inside and let loose. Tony tilted his head back to blink at the travesty as Skye sat up on his stomach and stared. “Holy crap,” she muttered. “It’s…”
“JARVIS… Buddy,” Tony began.
“It’s most strange, sir, but I have no records of anything occurring in your bedroom until you entered it a moment ago,” the AI said, sounding - for him - baffled.
Tony frowned. “Well.” He lowered his chin and quirked a brow at Skye. “Not that you’re not gorgeous, my dear…”
She snorted and rolled off him, going right to her feet. The many hours of training with Grant were paying off, it would seem. “Shut up, Tony. What did Grant want?”
The billionaire clambered to his feet and eyed the room. “I think we need to call your Grant back. There appears to be a theme going on here. Your room on the plane was inexplicably trashed, as were your quarters at ‘base’.... JARVIS, out of curiosity, are there any other rooms that suffered the same fate?”
There was a pause as JARVIS went over the tower. Then, “Yes sir. It would appear both Agent Romanoff’s and Agent Barton’s rooms are in a similar state of disarray.”
Tony looked at Skye again, and she blinked back at him. “What?”
“... nothing. JARVIS, call Agent Grant and tell him to come visit. Get ahold of Romanoff, Clint and Fury if you can, too. Coulson as well,” Tony rattled off, stooping to scoop Skye’s phone off the ground. He swung his arm around her shoulders. “Let’s go get some food. I’ll have someone come clean this up later.”
“Okay… Uh, Tony, are you not telling me something?” she asked, frowning as she let him direct her back to the kitchen.
“Why would I be not telling you something?” he asked innocently.
She glared at him. “I don’t know- petty revenge, a mistaken sense of overprotection… ‘Lawls’.”
Tony laughed and tugged open the fridge. “Yes, vengeance. I like that one! I have a vendetta against Skye the Gorgeous!”
“Stop,” she groaned, half playfully. “Seriously, though, Tony. I hate surprises.”
“Of course you do, you’re a hacker,” he replied with the sort of smug arrogance unique to people slipping self-congratulations into compliments to others. He went on. “Don’t worry, Skye. You can trust me.” White teeth sparkled when he grinned at her dubious look. “I’m Iron Man.”
The brunette rolled her eyes hard. “I know, you don’t let any of us forget it…”
As they’d bantered, Tony had begun mixing waffle batter, and now handed her a mug. “Start the coffee. Enough for twenty. Thor may wander up at any point. I swear he’s got the nose of a bloodhound when food’s involved.”
She laughed and took the symbol of her new ‘office’ over to the coffee pot. They lapsed into companionable silence until Tony gave a shout of surprise. She whirled while he began to curse at the first arrivals, and stared.
Clint was seated at the small table in the corner of the kitchen, looking amused, and to Skye’s left stood Natasha. Her hip was braced against the counter, shoulder-length hair caught back in a low braid. She wore mission gear - as did her partner - and those pretty eyes were fixed on Skye herself. She said nothing, though; Clint spoke up instead.
“Fury called us off our mission. Attacked again, Tony?” the archer teased lightly.
Skye and Tony exchanged a look. “Not so much,” the billionaire admitted. “Room was trashed, but we’d conked out on the couch.”
Natasha looked at him finally. “We?” she echoed.
His hands shot up quickly; Clint hid a smirk in his mysteriously-appeared coffee mug. “Sound of Music in the AM. That’s all, I swear. Wasn’t taking advantage of your girlfriend or anything.”
“Mine and your rooms were broken into too,” Skye was quick to insert. Inwardly, she was grinning however. Was that what jealousy looked like on Natasha? Also, she didn’t fail to notice how the redhead hadn’t yet to deny the ‘girlfriend’ comment. By Tony’s grin, he hadn’t either.
“Yeah,” Clint agreed, unsurprised. “Fury mentioned. We checked before we came back up here. Tasha’s has the worst of it. I can’t believe they even got-”
He never finished his sentence. One moment, Skye was standing over a coffee pot, mug in hand, and the next, a hand was wrapped around her throat. “Time for you to pay your debts,” a voice hissed in her ear, and she was dragged through a whirlpool of color.
Her knees felt weak when they were under her again, and she suspected the only thing keeping her up was his grasp on her throat. He hissed lowly and released her; she stumbled away, back smacking into a wall, and watched him reach over his shoulder. He jerked his arm and pulled a wicked dagger forward, covered in blood. His smirk was amused. “It would seem the Lady Natasha was not so pleased with my return…”
Naturally, Loki would survive that. She was so fucked. “Uh. Debts?” she prompted, wanting to talk about anything but her relationship with Natasha. Especially to Mr. Bag of Cats.
“Ah yes.” He wiped the blade off and flicked it at her. It disappeared before it hit its mark. “The staff. Last we spoke, you promised its location.”
“Yeah, and I told you where it was- at least the last time I’d heard anything about it,” she admitted guiltily.
Loki actually rolled his eyes at her. Loki. Rolled his eyes. That was so bizarre. “Indeed, and as you said, it was there.”
She frowned, bemused, and glanced around. They were in some sort of rock cavern- definitely not the staff’s location. “Uh. Okay. Great. Congrats?” She paused, and he quirked a brow. “... then what am I doing here?”
His smile was pure poison. “It requires access from a SHIELD agent, which I believe you were made officially of late, were you not?”
Skye couldn’t help giving a little flail. “What?! No, that was not in the deal!”
“Oh, no! Of course not,” he agreed with such sincerity that she was having a hard time believing it. “I shall just go kill the man of iron and we can part ways.” He turned.
She bit. “NO!”
Loki halted mid-step and looked back at her over his shoulder, brow arched in an ‘I’m listening’ expression. She lowered her gaze from his, barely glimpsing the wicked tear in his clothing from Natasha’s knife, and he turned to face her once more. “Please don’t. Look, I can’t- if I get caught… When I get caught…” She looked up at him. “You can’t! Don’t you see? If I do something like that again, they’ll never trust me. Never.”
He looked frankly fascinated. “Again, you say? Why, Skye, I had not known you were a rebel. How curious.”
She groaned and covered her face with a hand. That was it, then. All that work to make up for her mistakes, to earn their trust like someone that belonged… all of it would go down the drain. Just because she made a stupid deal. Sighing, she finally looked back at him to find his hand outstretched, long pale fingers slightly curled. Skye swallowed and took it.
This time, she was more prepared for the rush of vertigo and the vortex of color. Her knees locked against it, and the underground room they appeared in didn't spin.
"There," Loki said, pointing to a reinforced door.
She eyed the panel beside it as she approached, and only hesitated briefly. Sucking in a breath, she placed her palm on the scanner and keyed in her access code. The red LED flashed green; the world turned white-hot.
Darkness fell.
xXx
When Skye woke, her head was in Clint's lap, and she was stretched out on Tonys couch. Natasha stood stiffly by her feet. Fury was reclining in a kitchen chair placed across from them. Watching Skye.
"Welcome back to the world of the waking," the Director started. "You are hereby relieved of duty and placed under house arrest, restricted to Avengers Tower until I decide to let you go."
Actually, that was a pretty fair reaction, considering. "Are there anti-kidnap bracelets?" she asked hopefully.
His brow lifted. "If only."
"Damn." She eyed the tracker already fastened to her wrist.
A glass of honey-colored liquid was lowered into her line of sight, and she tilted her head back against Clints thigh to smile at Tony. He was leaning over the back if the couch. "That's been tested," he reassured her as she took the scotch.
"Great," she said, and sat up. The techie promptly knocked it back, then let Clint hand the empty glass off to Tony.
Fury snorted. "Care to tell us what the Hell happened back there?"
Grimacing, Skye dropped her feet to the floor and reclined against the couch. Clint slung his arm up along its back to half-curl around her shoulders, while Natasha took the freed up seat. Sitting there, surrounded by three Avengers - Tony was still standing behind her - it occurred to Skye that they'd probably insisted that she be confined here. She didn't have an actual home, after all. In fact, Avengers Tower was the closest she'd come to 'home' in a very long time.
"Skye?" Clint prompted gently.
She sighed and looked back at Tony, who wiggled his bottle of scotch invitingly. The brunette smiled, shook her head, and looked at Director Fury. "It started when we were poisoned. I was drifting, aimless, searching. I think... I think I was dying. Time was running out. I could- In the background, I could hear them trying to save Tony's life.
"Then she was there. She was beautiful, this woman. Dark hair and green eyes. She told me that the doctors wouldn't save me. She said they were more worried about Tony and Nat... She said she'd save me."
Skye gave in then, when Tony offered more alcohol. She sipped it, letting it warm her bones. It went down smooth as silk. "All I had to do was give her Agent Coulson. I don't know why she was asking me... But she did. I said no. Then Tony flatlined."
Something clinked, and for the first time, Skye realized Bruce was in the room. She watched him sit back in his window seat, eyes closed. Tony's face was unreadable.
"Suddenly, the woman was Loki, and he asked..." She swallowed the rest of her drink. "He asked if Tony was my price. But I couldn't do it. I couldn't pick between Tony and Coulson..."
Fury looked thoughtful. "So you offered the staff."
Skye nodded. "It was the only other thing I could think of that he might be interested in. Obviously, he took the deal. Tony got better."
"Yeah, dream-walking is a weird thing," the billionaire said thoughtfully, inviting Fury's unimpressed look. "Showed up, said I had a guardian angel, and zapped me. Next I knew, I was waking up to Cap's ugly mug-"
"Shut up, Tony," Steve piped up. He'd been standing in the doorway for... well, Skye had no clue how long. Wow, she needed to pay more attention. A quick glance around the room told her that Coulson was also present, but that was it.
She bit her lip when she met her boss' gaze, but relaxed as he smiled faintly. Fury cleared his throat, drawing her attention back to him. "So, breaking into the staff's vault?"
Skye winced. "Well, he couldn't get into the vault for whatever reason... So he grabbed me and made me." She sighed.
Clint snorted abruptly. “Lemme guess; he threatened Tony again?” At her nod, he made a disgusted noise. “Figures. Bastard.” He lowered a hand to absently tug at the ends of her hair, which felt kind of nice, actually…
“Seems like Loki’s got your number, Skye,” Director Fury commented, sitting back in his seat. “This is an issue that needs to be fixed.”
The techie swallowed nervously, eyes wide. “Uh… How?” she asked, although she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know his answer.
Fury spread his hands. “I think we both know that answer, Skye.”
“Capture Loki,” Natasha inserted abruptly.
Fury gave her a considering look. “Maybe. But he’s given us the slip before. Why would this time be any different, Agent Romanoff?”
The redhead’s face was stone. “Because we have what he wants.”
Skye blinked at her. "He already has the staff," she said blankly.
Coulson smiled. "Not its crystal, though."
Looking thoughtful, Fury leaned back in his seat. "That's true," he agreed. "Dr. Michaels removed it for further study. Replaced it with a lesser active rock. Some experiment or another. Hill's covering that."
"Shhh!" Tony hissed, grinning. "That's supposed to be a secret!"
The Director looked unimpressed. "Yeah, and yet someone keeps making comments on Dr. Michaels' notes."
"His equations were wrong," the billionaire defended. "He needed to know. So he could do them right next time."
Natasha rolled her eyes. "Back on topic, please. Before Loki finds out and snatches Skye again."
Paling, the brunette turned to her girlfriend. "You think he'd do that?"
"He already has," the redhead replied, eying her.
Skye had no answer for that, because it was true. He'd taken her, right in front of the Avengers, and suffered no worse for it than the equivalent of a pin-prick. For the first time since she had lingered in an old cafe, peering up at a news report of Manhattan during the attack last year, she realized that Loki was a dangerous, powerful being, capable of pretty much anything.
It scared her to death.
xXx
Tony sat in the cool confines of one of the conference rooms in the Tower, staring down at the table without even seeing it. The Avengers had a problem, in the form of the hacktivist prodigy Skye- AKA Natasha's girlfriend.
Not to say that Skye herself was a problem- quite the contrary. He actually really liked the woman. (As a person, generally, but it didn't hurt that she was a babe.) They held a lot of the same interests, and on top of it, she was a genuinely nice person with a firm moral compass. Like Cap, but smarter.
No, the problem she presented was much harder to solve, and was less her fault than her rotten luck. Somehow, someway, Skye had garnered the interest of the alien psychopath Loki. No, not simply 'interest'; the nutcase was clearly fixated on the poor girl.
"Uhg, and I have no idea how to stop it," the billionaire muttered under his breath. He reached out to brush his fingers over the top of the marble-and-glass conference table, watching it light up.
He brought up a few security feeds absently, and blinked at what he was seeing. "What are you doing?" he wondered, tapping the picture to zoom in on the figure. Specifically, his hands, currently putting something, or messing with something, under Skye's pillow.
"JARVIS, confirm the identity of that man," Tony demanded.
"SHIELD most wanted criminal, Loki Odinson, sir. Shall I alert Director Fury?" his AI inquired curiously.
Tony thought about it. "Nah. Invite him for coffee in the penthouse."
JARVIS' response was dry but unsurprised. "Of course, sir. I'll start the coffee pot."
Hopping to his feet, the billionaire headed for the elevator. "Are you getting cheeky with me?" he demanded.
"I've no idea what you mean, sir. I live to serve, quite literally."
Tony frowned. "That's it, I'm taking away your anime privileges. No more late night Death Note for you!"
There was no response, which made Tony smirk, and he stepped out of the elevator to find Loki reclining on his couch. "Welcome to the Machine, Loki. Glad you could make it!"
A dark brow went up. "I was intrigued by your invitation, man of iron. To what do I owe such pleasure?"
"Just a little curious, actually," Tony said, heading for the mini bar. "Mostly what you want with Skye, but also what you're planning in general. Scotch? I've also got... Vodka. Pumpkin. Where did that even come from??" He pulled the bottle out of its place on the shelf, vaguely remembering something about a bet with Rhodey.
Loki's smooth tenor interrupted his distracted musings. "The scotch, thank you."
It didn't escape Tony's notice that Loki hadn't answered his question. Even so, he poured them both a glass and brought it over, fearlessly standing before the 'god'. Or he hoped fearlessly. His knees weren't shaking at least.
~~~~