Sunset ^beta

Natasha glares at the sticks in her hand, which are still refusing to ignite the kindling she’s gathered. “Oh, come on, after all this I can’t even get a fire going?”

A hand wearing black fingerless gloves appears between her and her firewood, holding out a helpfully flaming Zippo lighter.

Natasha is on her feet in a moment, gun pointed at the stranger who has somehow managed to sneak up on her.

“You could just have said ‘no thanks’,” complains the woman, flipping the lighter closed and tucking it away under a black and green cloak.

“Who are you?”

The woman shrugs. “I’m just a mysterious, beautiful woman who’s gone for a walk in the woods and stumbled upon another mysterious, beautiful woman, who I tried to help but she cruelly rejected me and my lighter.”

“Funny,” says Natasha, not even slightly amused. “Give me a better answer than that or I’ll -”

The woman moves with what seems like superhuman speed, taking the gun from Natasha’s hand and throwing it further than she should have been able to. Without letting herself worry about that, Natasha grabs the woman’s other arm and pulls, twisting her around and making the stranger laugh.

The worry she won’t allow starts creeping in anyway as her opponent slips from her grasp almost at once, jumping onto her and letting her weight take them both down, and Natasha ends up on her back, pinned down by the other woman, whose hands hold her wrists too tightly as she straddles her, grinning down at Natasha like this is the funniest shit that’s happened all week.

Well, it hasn’t exactly been a great week for anyone, has it?

Almost anyone, that is.

Now suspicious (and as she takes in what the woman is wearing she wonders why she didn’t jump to this conclusion immediately), Natasha asks again, “Who are you?”

The woman leans forwards, which puts more of her weight on Natasha’s wrists but she doesn’t react to that spike of pain, just keeps staring upwards.

“I’m quick and I’m strong and I’m wearing black and green and I have horns on my head. I’d give you three guesses who I am, but I don’t think you really need that many.”

“Loki.”

The woman - Loki - hesitates and then she shrugs. “That’ll do for now.” She shifts her position, rocking her hips slightly. “This isn’t a bad place to be sitting,” she says, “but it’s less fun with our clothes on and it’s a bit too chilly out here to start stripping. So,” she dips her head downwards, close enough for Natasha to feel her breath when she speaks, “do you promise to be a good girl and not attack me if I let go of you?”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“Good suggestion, but no. Look,” she says, in a much quieter, more reasonable-sounding tone, “I disarmed you before you noticed I was moving. I can have you back down on the ground in an instant, but I can’t promise I won’t accidentally break some part of you that can’t be fixed by a woman all alone in a forest.”

Natasha scoffs. “I’m not convinced you’d have a problem with that.”

“I wouldn’t,” she says, very calmly, “but you would.” Which is a point that Natasha would rather not admit the truth of, but given the circumstances she’ll have to.

“Okay,” she says, forcing herself to relax a little, “I promise I won’t attack you if you let me up.”

Loki nods, apparently satisfied with that. Letting go of Natasha’s wrists, she reaches up to adjust her golden horns and then she rises to her feet and lets Natasha follow her.

“There’s a little cabin about a mile from here. I’ll take you to it.”

None of this makes any sense. Why is Loki here without his… without her army, and why hasn’t she killed Natasha yet? The best scenario that suggests itself is that the good guys have somehow managed to push her out of the city and now Loki’s on the run as Natasha has been, but surely she’d have heard if that had happened?

It’s a mystery. She decides to at least start out towards the cabin in the hope of picking up some information on the way there.

“Why are you in the woods?” she asks, trying the direct approach first. “Last I heard you were setting up your capital in the ruins of New York.”

“That’s still happening. Sorry to disappoint you.” She doesn’t sound sorry at all. “It’d take a long time to explain. Maybe when we get to that cabin I’ll tuck you into a sleeping bag and tell you a bedtime story. Would you like that, Agent Romanov? I can kiss you goodnight as well, if you -”

Natasha stops walking and makes Loki stop too by holding out an arm to block her movements. “Let’s get one thing clear; the only thing I want to kiss you with is my fist.”

Loki raises her eyebrows. “I didn’t think you were that kinky, but if you insist…”

Natasha sighs, irritated, and starts moving again. Walking fast enough to leave Loki at her back, unwatched, is probably a mistake but the alien has so many advantages here already that it doesn’t feel like it will make much difference either way. If Loki wants Natasha dead then Natasha will be dead soon enough, like the rest of the Avengers.

-

The cabin is tiny and dirty but there are sleeping bags there and some cans of food. Someone stocked the place for a hunting trip, maybe. Natasha claims a sleeping bag to put between herself and the filthy floor, but she has no intention of actually sleeping with Loki around.

“Why are you a woman?” she asks, because she’s been wondering; how could she not?

Loki ignores that question and asks another; “What would you do if the world was ending?”

“Die,” Natasha answers, simply. “What would you do?” She doesn’t ask if the world is ending; she has enough to deal with already (though if all of those things are about to end then she might not have to deal with them after all).

“Oh, I’ve done all sorts,” answers Loki, with an odd smile on her face, almost wistful. “I’ve tried to stop the end coming, and I’ve tried to hurry it along. I’ve helped people and I’ve hurt people. Shagged a lot of people too, but you probably don’t want to hear about that right now. Drank a lot. Partied. Threw up in alleyways. Almost didn’t make it out myself sometimes. Thought about not trying to make it out, on the bad days.”

“I’m sure that all makes sense in your messed up head,” sighs Natasha, stretching out on her side, not to sleep but just to rest while she has the chance.

Loki picks up a blanket that’s folded on the cabin’s only chair, and shakes dust from it until Natasha starts coughing, then approaches her, holding it out like a bullfighter’s cape. “Here, I don’t want you getting hypothermia in your sleep.”

“I’m not going to sleep.”

“Of course you aren’t,” says Loki, sounding unconvinced, “but I still don’t want to have to thaw out a frozen human just so I’ve got someone to talk to.”

Natasha accepts the blanket, making a point of not thanking her for it, and pulls it over herself. It doesn’t smell great but it’s thick and almost soft.

Loki takes the chair for herself, turning it so she’s facing Natasha. “You get some rest, I’ll keep watch.”

“For what? Yourself?”

“Yes,” she answers, looking very serious.

“You’re a fucking freak,” mutters Natasha, closing her eyes even though she knows she shouldn’t. She’s just so tired now, of everything.

“Sleep well, little spider,” says Loki, softly. It sounds like she’s far away, not even in the same room as Natasha. It sounds like she’s a world away.

-

Natasha wakes up with a start, reaching for a gun she lost the day before.

“I was kind of hoping you’d sleep through it,” says Loki, who doesn’t look even a little tired.

“Sleep through what?” Natasha rolls her shoulders and stretches her arms out at her sides. She’s stiff, but she could probably run if she had to. There’s a very good chance that she will have to.

Loki shakes her head. “Once upon a time -”

“Can’t you just talk like a normal person?”

“Once upon a time,” she repeats, clearly not intending to stop for any more interruptions, “there was a cute little girl who went somewhere she shouldn’t have. Most places she went were places she shouldn’t have gone to, actually, but she didn’t have much choice in the matter. But one of those places was a bit worse than the rest, a bit more dangerous. Long story short, the little girl didn’t die there but she did feel like she owed a debt for that.” She stands up, adjusting the sword sheathed at her side. “Debt paid, I reckon.”

Natasha frowns. “I feel like I missed a movie or two that took place before the one you think you’re starring in.”

“Shit metaphor,” says Loki, pulling something rectangular from her pocket and flipping it open.

In the distance, there’s a sound like thunder, low and loud. “A storm?” Natasha looks up; the roof of this cabin probably isn’t going to keep out the rain if the weather turns on them.

Loki comes to crouch at her side. “Yeah, let’s say it’s a storm.” Far too quick again, she presses a kiss to Natasha’s lips before she has a chance to push her away. “If it’s any consolation, you were supposed to save the world. You usually do.” With that strange statement she rises to her feet again and presses something on her flip-phone thing.

A glowing portal opens in the cabin, hanging in the air in front of Loki.

“I’m sorry about that mewling quim line, by the way” she says, with an embarrassed expression on her face. “It was beneath me. I think he was just annoyed that you weren’t.” And then she’s gone, stepping through the doorway before it blinks out of existence again.

Natasha sits up, pulling the blanket tighter around herself. That storm sounds a lot closer now, and she can feel the chill of it already. She looks up at the ceiling again, and worries about getting wet.

(Down came the rain and washed the spider out.)