A/N: I hope you guys enjoy!
"Would you care to dance, my lady?" Emerald eyes flickered, luring her in with a seductive stare.
She responded by slipping a delicate hand between his icy fingers.
In a swift motion, he snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her against his chest.
Despite being taken aback by his suave movements, Natasha easily kept in time with every step of their dance. What kind of a dancer would she be if she couldn't manage a simple waltz?
Her partner leaned in, his voice barely audible over the sound of a French composer. "You look lovely tonight," he purred.
"You don't look too bad, yourself," she remarked as her gaze shifted from his alluring stare to the black designer suit he wore.
A charming smile played at the corners of his lips. "Tell me, Ms. Romanoff," he began.
The way he said her name forced something within her chest to stir.
"When do you intend to kill me?" he coolly questioned. His breath was cold against the bare skin of her neck.
"Who said anything about killing?" She raised a brow.
"The mighty assassin," he mused, chuckling under his breath.
Natasha was unsure whether it was his joke or the sound of his melodic laughter that forced her to giggle along with him.
Loki's gaze softened as he heard her laughing with him. "You're quite lovely," he commented suddenly.
Her smile fell and a tightening in her chest led her to believe something wasn't right.
The moment the music came to an end, they stopped. "Forgive me if I've upset you."
She shook her head, oblivious to the fact that they still shared an embrace. "Enough with the act, Loki." Her tone darkened at the mentioning of his name. "Don't think you can fool me with any of this," she warned. Her arms encircled his neck as she stood on the toes of her shoes to lean in closer. "Two can play at this game," she whispered, her lips dangerously close to his own.
A confident smirk formed across Loki's face.
She pressed her plump lips against his before sauntering off towards the marble staircase. Loki may have been catching on to her plan-he was clever, she had to give him that. She, however, was at least three steps ahead of him. She ascended the staircase and found a vacant room to hide out in. Kicking off her heels, she slumped down into the seat of an armchair by an empty fireplace. Judging by the rows of book-covered shelves surrounding her, she was in a home library of some sort. The door creaked open, yet she kept her gaze fixed upon the ash-covered wood resting in the hearth. Not even the cold hand pressing against her cheek could startle her. She was aware of who it was. Not only that, she knew he would follow her…
"Why do you insist upon leading me here?" his velvety voice asked. Gently, he grabbed her chin and forced her to look in his direction.
"Do I really need to tell you twice?" she asked with a grin. "You can't escape from us and expect to get away with it."
"Is that so?" He flashed a cunning smirk as he sat upon the chair's arm.
"No matter how many galaxies away you are, you're still our responsibility to look after," she taunted, crossing her legs.
His eyes narrowed at the implication that made him feel child-like. "And if I refuse to return?"
"Don't make me use force, Loki," she advised. Her fingers swathed around his silk patterned scarf that draped across his shoulders. Using more strength than necessary, she yanked on the scarf, jerking him forward. "Because you know I will." His hand seized her thin wrist, gripping tightly, yet she refused to let go. The icy glare in his eyes began to make her feel uneasy.
"I refuse to go back," he growled through clenched teeth. The smooth and polite demeanor in his voice hastily turned vicious.
Natasha's free hand traced against her thigh where she skillfully hid a knife tucked away beneath her dress.
"I am unwanted there," he continued, his gaze focused on nothing in particular.
The distant look in Loki's eyes forced her to observe him curiously.
"Even here, what am I? Just a shadow to Thor…" Without realizing, he had released her wrist.
"Thor isn't here, Loki," she calmly reminded him. "New York is farther from London than it looks on a map."
"As if any of that matters, you insolent whelp!" he snarled, grabbing her neck.
The moment his fingertips brushed against her throat, Natasha withdrew her blade and pressed the sharp tip against his throat.
Weakness filled his empty eyes as he gazed into her fierce orbs. "Disregard your orders, if only for this one moment."
"You're a threat to this earth," she reminded him. "Locked up on Asgard is where you belong," she warned. "I was sent to take you back where you belong. Don't think that's an order I'll let slide."
His eyes fell at the cruelty of her words. "I'm asking for you to show mercy." His slender fingers slid away from her neck and wrapped around her hand holding the blade. "Kill me." There was the slightest crack in his voice during a moment of desperation.
"Keep leading me on like this and I might just have to," she scoffed. Whatever game he was playing, she wasn't going to be used as a pawn.
The warmth of her hand beneath his cold grasp felt reassuring. "Thor never bothered to pay me a visit during my confinement." He used force to make the knife's tip break the skin. The stinging pain was a reminder that he was alive. "It wasn't until trouble broke out over our realm. He accused me of being the cause." A thin trail of blood trickled from the puncture, staining his collared shirt. "That's just the way things are, though," he continued with a strained voice. "I'm always the one to wreak havoc. Always the wolf, never the lamb." A gasp escaped his throat as he forced the knife in deeper.
Natasha tried her hardest to fight against his pull, but his strength outmatched hers. If she couldn't overpower him, she could only hope that the strength of her words would reach him. "Thor cares about you, Loki. He talks about you," she admitted. "All he wants is for you to be brothers again."
"And I don't want it!" he choked out. His grip squeezed her hand and he plunged the blade in deeper. "While locked up, I-I remember… It was I who let go. Thor never tossed me aside." He tightly shut his eyes and Natasha watched as a tear trailed down his cheek. "I chose death."
Loki's blood spattered against Natasha's face. "Loki, stop!" she pleaded.
"This," he panted. "I need this." The air was failing to reach his lungs and his vision blurred.
"So you'll die a coward's death?" she darkly asked.
Loki managed a weak smile as his grip loosened. "I-I'm unwanted." A wave of dizziness overcame him and he fell forward against her chest.
"Don't talk like that," she advised as she helped him lay back against the armchair. A steady hand pulled the blade from the wound and tossed it aside. Natasha was in no worry of harming him any further. Like Thor, he would heal quickly. "Don't do this to Thor. He loves you."
"Yet I always seem to let him down," he weakly managed.
She couldn't help but feel sorry for him, despite all that he had done to the Clint and the city years ago. Staring into his tear clouded eyes, memories of her own past resurfaced. "We've all had moments of weakness, Loki," she quietly began as she pressed his scarf against his wound. "I've been there," she continued as she sat down on his lap.
His labored breaths slowly grew steadier. Through half-lidded eyes, he intently watched her.
Natasha wasn't one to reminisce on her past, but it seemed to be bringing Loki to his senses. "I can't remember anything from my past. I could've had a brother like you and I would never know…" Carefully, she moved the scarf away to check the wound. The bleeding had stopped, a promising sign. "I was fed lies about who I really was."
Loki's body tensed at her words. "How so?"
Her eyes fell upon the bloody scarf. "I was a dancer, one of the best around. I was living every little girl's dream…" She weakly laughed. "Turns out I was just some pawn being used to kill."
He reached out to touch her face. "Deep down, we're the same…"
She quickly glanced up at his face in surprise. As hard to believe as it was, he spoke the truth. Loki had been lied to about his identity, just as she was. "I never thought about it like that," she breathed.
"Unlike myself, you have more to live for." His voice trailed off as he touched her hair. Before she could utter a word in reply, he intervened. "You have far more people who care about you."
Natasha had Clint, along with the other Avengers, so she couldn't complain. They were her team. Her friends… Despite having Thor, Loki didn't seem accepting of his brother's affection. Although she never would have admitted it to anyone, her heart began to ache for Loki. Right now, he was alone, lost… He needed someone now more than ever. Tonight, she had seen the god in a whole new light. "You have me," she suddenly confessed.
His eyes met with hers and he was too mesmerized to look away.
"If you ever need someone…" Her hand touched his chest. "Just know you have me."
He smiled kindly. "Thank you." He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. The warmth of her skin was contagious and left him wanting more. He unexpectedly leaned forward to brush his lips against hers.
Natasha couldn't help but feel slightly flustered by his romantic gesture. "You're not as bad as you think you are, Loki," she assured him with a smile.