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widows_kissWhile Clint worked on winning over Thor in the ways he was usually best at, Natasha turned her own attention on their other guest, although her methods of looking after him were vastly different. After their brief meeting at the bar, she figured that Loki was not one to kiss and make up as friends after a few boilermakers, dart competitions, and bad karaoke. (Thank god - gods? - because the universe might be officially doomed in her opinion, if it were.)
Instead, for the first two days, she granted him the privacy he seemed to crave. She showed up on clockwork, three times a day, bearing a tray of food and a few simple tidbits of information with her greeting. Most of them were inconsequential - Thor had healed and was up and around. Benny had been pleased to note that she'd sent the unknown stranger off to the big city on the latest bus that stopped in town, because apparently strangers made him nervous. Which made her laugh with a roll of her eyes at the irony. The inept agent she and Clint had mocked for letting Loki escape had been reassigned to somewhere in Siberia or Antarctica or maybe the moon. There was a betting pool starting up among the remaining agents on site over whether Loki and his brother were actually the Norse gods they were named after, and if so, how much of the actual mythology was true. She offered to share some of the more extreme tales with him if he got bored.
Each conversation was brief, not overly chatty, merely filling the air as she delivered his tray, checked if he needed anything. She brought him the daily newspaper with his breakfast and, noting it had been thoroughly read when she returned, she changed her habits on the third day.
It was midway between breakfast and lunch when she breezed through the door, a stack of half a dozen books stacked in her arms. Two were science texts, one of math, two were novels (a western and a murder mystery - Nowhere, New Mexico didn't have the most expansive selection of entertaining reads unless you were fond of the romances with busty females being rescued by cowboys or Fabio (or Thor, now that she gave them a second glance). The last was a text of Norse mythology she'd picked up from the children's section, a collection of stories to tell the tales of the old gods the Vikings had worshiped and modeled their civilization after.
"Here," she spoke in greeting, setting them down on the end of his bed. "I thought you might be getting bored."
Instead, for the first two days, she granted him the privacy he seemed to crave. She showed up on clockwork, three times a day, bearing a tray of food and a few simple tidbits of information with her greeting. Most of them were inconsequential - Thor had healed and was up and around. Benny had been pleased to note that she'd sent the unknown stranger off to the big city on the latest bus that stopped in town, because apparently strangers made him nervous. Which made her laugh with a roll of her eyes at the irony. The inept agent she and Clint had mocked for letting Loki escape had been reassigned to somewhere in Siberia or Antarctica or maybe the moon. There was a betting pool starting up among the remaining agents on site over whether Loki and his brother were actually the Norse gods they were named after, and if so, how much of the actual mythology was true. She offered to share some of the more extreme tales with him if he got bored.
Each conversation was brief, not overly chatty, merely filling the air as she delivered his tray, checked if he needed anything. She brought him the daily newspaper with his breakfast and, noting it had been thoroughly read when she returned, she changed her habits on the third day.
It was midway between breakfast and lunch when she breezed through the door, a stack of half a dozen books stacked in her arms. Two were science texts, one of math, two were novels (a western and a murder mystery - Nowhere, New Mexico didn't have the most expansive selection of entertaining reads unless you were fond of the romances with busty females being rescued by cowboys or Fabio (or Thor, now that she gave them a second glance). The last was a text of Norse mythology she'd picked up from the children's section, a collection of stories to tell the tales of the old gods the Vikings had worshiped and modeled their civilization after.
"Here," she spoke in greeting, setting them down on the end of his bed. "I thought you might be getting bored."
