From the Office of Stark Tower.

With love.

This is what I remember from the whole kidnapping saga.

"...Joseph?"

"Oh, you're awake. Hi. How's your head? Do you have a headache? I have advil." I feel a pressure behind my head as he sits me up, props me against his chest, winds his arms almost lovingly around my waist. My head is loosely rolling against his collar bone, and he forcibly steadies it with a firm hand.

"Joe... the hell... rrrr you doin'?"

"Oh, hush, 'nuff of that. You just drink this water and take these pills."

I open my mouth but tense up my tongue, let the water dribble down my front, onto his arm. He makes a disgusted noise and tries to get my floppy neck to stiffen up, but I refuse. Probably aided by the drugs, but I'm so whatever, when I'm not so angry.

"When I wake up... yerrrr dead. I'ma kick you ...in the teeth..."

"Uh huh. Course you are. That's why I'm going to keep you in these chains." I become dully aware of a heavy weight on my wrists. Then the world goes black for a minute, and when I reopen my eyes, he's trying to wrestle some jeans up my legs. I can tell time has passed; but how much is a complete mystery to me. All I'm aware of is Doc's boxers being bunched up around my thighs and what feels like two advil stuck in my throat.

"These were my favorite jeans to have you in." He tells me, grinning as he shimmies the very tight denim over my knees. "Can't keep you in that dress, much as I like it."

"What exactly... do you think... you're going to... get from...?" My eyelids drop. I'm conscious as he pulls me into sitting up, just with my eyes closed, so it's a big surprise when I throw all the weight in my head forward and crack him right in the nose.

He howls, and I sleep.

When I come to again, there is something around my throat, and it's rubbing me raw. It's dark, it smells like petrol and I can see he's haphazardly bundled up my red dress and tossed it across from me, in the back of this dingy, smelly van.

I roll, but don't have enough energy to roll back, and effectively start to choke myself. He notices just in the nick of time, swears, veers to the side of the road and climbs into the back of the van, coaxing the air back into my lungs. I cough, and curse him with every pretty word I can touch my tongue to, but he's immune to my tirades (having been on the end of them consistently since we first met), and pats my head, crawls back into the front of the van.

In what feels like a few seconds, he's back, the van doors are open and I'm half out, apparently trying to strangle myself again, kicking at him for all I'm worth, which, when drugged and rapidly losing oxygen, isn't much as I'd like.

"Stubborn bitch." He says, and stabs my arm with yet another dart. "You just wait. You just wait. I'm going to enjoy this, Kitten. What, you don't think I didn't see you with that- that guy? Hawkeye? That bow-and-arrows freak? When you were supposed to be with the Black Widow, and he comes along, and I had to watch the two of you together? You don't think that hurt me, baby? Well guess what..."

I can only remember the vague promise of hurt, not what he actually said. Then silence, and two arms hoisting me against a taut chest.

"Shit, Kit."

"Her eyes are rolling."

"She's gone into toxic shock. Shit. Shit."

"Give her to me."

"No."

"You can barely handle the device and her both, Barton. Now give her to me."

There's cold hands on my head. I make a sound like a dying whale, which is very attractive. The sounds around me blur – I sweat, I can feel it beading all over my body, the small of my back alone is almost like a swamp by itself. It's the most horrible sensation in the world, and I cower at the sudden screeching of tires and bright lights, my arms winding around the torso and clawing at the bony shoulders.

"I'll kill him, kill him dead-"

"Now, now, little Kitten. Such violence."

"Lemme kill him." Except I can't really focus on anything, particularly not killing any body and getting away with it. I can barely open my eyes to see Loki rather amused, holding me to his chest, sitting casually on the back of the vehicle that was used to kidnap me.

"I could do much worse to him, should you ask politely." His grin is utterly feral, but his hands smooth at my hair, my throat, which is completely gentle.

I try to speak some more but nothing but a strangled whine comes out. I feel like I'm inflating, like someone's stuck a air pump up my nose and is filling me up with air, air that's hot enough to make me wish I could drown.

"Breathe, Kit." Barton's fingers, must be, they're calloused and rough like an archer's fingers should be, press against my pulse. "You gotta breathe."

I don't. I can't. I just wheeze and pass out again.

The next thing I remember is a pair of cold fingers on the burn marks around my throat.

"Can you hear me, little Kitten?"

"Get your hands off of her."

"Kitten, it's Doc. Squeeze my hand if you can hear me."

There are different voices, blurred shadows. Like someone has stuck a bunch of hazy grey paper over my eyes. I feel sick and my head pounds. The green of those pretty liar's eyes is literally all I can make sense of; I anchor myself in the green, the life in it, the brightness.

"She's not responding."

"Her eyes are open, though...?"

"That's weird."

"She hasn't been responding to anyone."

"She opened her eyes for me." For those pretty, pretty, liar's eyes. I let out a small sigh, and for a moment, there's a silence.

"Kitten?" cold fingers are still tracing the pain on my throat. "Can you say something?"

"Kit?" that gruff voice... Hawkeye?

There's a pause. Apparently waiting for something that isn't going to happen, they continue.

"How is she, Doc?"

"It's not good. She was already struggling with the first dosage of the inhibitor, the second didn't help. She had an allergic reaction to it, but there doesn't seem to be any stress on her brain. Then again, this isn't exactly what I studied..." he sighs, sounding world-weary and tense. "Loki, is there anything you can do?"

"There is always something, Doctor. But I need her to say yes."

Another pause.

"Brother, are you certain?"

"Of course. If the chemical has not ruined her mind I will know. All I need is a yes. Kitten, I need you to let me in."

"Wait, wait, what's happening? Guys? I'm lost. I don't like being lost. Game of Thrones, what are you doing, and why is Feathers drawing his bow?"

"He wants back in her head. I don't think so, buddy."

"Don't take that tone with me, Hawkeye."

"I'll do whatever I damn well please."

"Put the bow down. This is a place of healing, Shield-Brother."

I decide to interrupt.

"Lo...ki..."

"Jesus Christ."

"Calm down, the both of you." It's the only female voice in the room, so two guesses as to who it is, in a striking black catsuit. "Walk it off."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"I didn't mean you, Doc." she replies tightly. "Hawkeye, walk with me."

There's a mumble, some shuffling of clothes. Loki mutters something sounding mildly self righteous and Thor rumbles: "Now it not the time, brother." Naturally, that's the only part of the conversation I make out, because Thor doesn't appear to have volume control.

"So what, you wanna get in her head? Because, just in case you weren't aware, I don't think she liked that very much. Just FYI."

"She didn't." Doc growls. There's a tense silence, then the warm comfort eclipsing the back of my hand releases its death grip and I get the distinct impression he's gone to follow Hawkeye and Widow on their walk.

"Hey doll." Says a somewhat sheepish Captain America. His hand covers the space that Doc's has vacated. Loki's hands are still soothing the swelling in my throat. "You're alright. You're safe. I'm here, and I'm not gonna let anything bad happen to you."

Naw.

"Yeah, yeah, Captain my Captain. That's very nice, I'm sure she feels much better cause you're here." I can smell alcohol. Tony's messy helmet hair becomes somewhat clearer. "Can you hear me, more to the point? It's Tony. To-nee. Your first Avenger."

"I don't think she's pulling that face because she enjoys the proximity, Stark. Move."

"Brother, you cannot presume-"

"Yes I can. Move or I will move you."

"I'd really, really like to see you try."

"I remember you being decidedly vulnerable without your suit of armor when I tossed you from that window. Much like you are now."

"Tony, don't-"

"Brother-!"

"Ugh." I croak. I squeeze my eyes shut, open one of them, and I can just barely see them all again. There's a sticky in my arm I wince at, and I pull an even more attractive scrunchy face, because really, a needle? Not pleasant to wake up to, though I wouldn't mind a hovering Captain America every now and again. "The spotlight...Is supposed to be... on me...Guys."

Tony is vastly amused by this. Steve has my hand in his and is giving me a tightly lipped smile, his thumb lightly stroking, which is nice. Thor is on tiptoe, grinning down over his brother's plain expression. Loki's hand is still pressed against my vocal chords, but he retracts it as I become more lucid.

I give them all a half hearted grin.

"What...took you... so long?"

"Yeah, she'll be fine." Tony snorts, pats my leg, and mentions getting coffee for the both of us on his way out.

Apparently he had me for all of four hours before Hawkeye caught up with him. Turns out my apartment was bugged, which isn't really a good thing. Not when you go over everything you've done since taking up with them and consider the two one night stands, copious amounts of bad singing, and muttered swear words about dealing with SHIELD and what a pain in the ass it is.

But Nick, my lovely kinda-boyfriend, sent Hotguy after me after those suspicious name droppings when Joe first jumped me. Because Nick loves me, forgives the aforementioned bad singing, one-night-standing and bad-mouthing.

"So wait, Hotguy just like, saved my life?"

"Well, Nick originally sent Widow by herself." Jane leans in, helps herself to a bit of lettuce that had fallen out of the sandwich that Pepper had so kindly delivered a few hours ago, along with a pamper pack of goodies for me to get better, faster. "She is a spy, and she was in the area. It made the most sense. What he didn't expect was that she would be in Barton's presence when she got her call. She didn't say anything, but Hawkeye just asked Tony to intercept it."

"Naturally." Doc muses from my left hand side. He'd stopped by in the morning to wish me a speedy recovery, and had since been helping me fill in my cross word book (also in the pack from Pepper) for the past five or so hours. "Tony didn't even bother asking why, he just hacked it and when they heard it was a disturbance from you, Barton already knew who it was."

"He'd been keeping tabs on you. Like your very own Robin Hood meets Edward Cullen." Darcy sighs, looking dreamy.

"How's Captain Ass-tastic, again?" I rasp at her, and she promptly shuts her mouth and stops making fluttery eyed lovey faces at me.

I'm sorry Steve, but it's really a spectacular suit, you've got there.

"So from there," Jane continues. "Hawkeye went to go check up on your stalker, while Tony got his suit. Thor and I met him on the way out, and he thought that he should at least tell Steven, who was hanging out with Darcy, who then went to the lab and demanded that she be told next time someone she knew was kidnapped."

"Uh huh...?"

Darcy is grinning sheepishly at the sheets between her crossed legs. Doc shifts, picks up his mug, and nearly inhales the liquid.

"Except, she demanded it from Doc." Jane says calmly.

"No one had told me." The good doctor says lightly.

"Oh."

"So he, er..."

"Had a growth spurt." The doctor says calmly from his place on my left hand. He's sipping away at some luke warm beverage, looking sage and tired. "Tony had to be called back to deal with the Other Guy, but Darcy was sent to collect Thor for backup, who had since gone to visit Loki, and well..."

"That's how Loki found out." Darcy pipes up.

"Sounds just like high school." I note, and Darcy nods.

"So, Widow was in your apartment when Nick called and wanted to know why Loki and Barton were aware of your little issue, and she had no idea. Nick was all: "I'll call you back", but the next thing she knows, he's calling saying that Hawkeye and Loki have got you in custody and she should probably go and mediate the situation before that blew up."

"Dramatic." I cough, rub my chest. "Wish I could remember that. Barton's all smug and he won't tell me why. He'll only say that I'm possibly the cutest kidnap victim in the world, and his ego is well and truly stroked. Do you guys know what he's talking about?"

"The inhibitor he shot you up with has been known to have side effects before." Doc says, marking 5 DOWN 'WITCH'.

"Obviously not any good ones." I grump. His eyes crinkle at the corners and he shoves his glasses up his nose with his knuckle. "You totally know something I don't."

"Shut up, Darcy." Jane says, without even having to look at the teen, who's busy sniggering into her hand. "Trust me, you don't want to know." Is all I get, and they very swiftly change the conversation to something less mine-field, which happens to be Steven and Darcy, something I get behind fully.

I spent the next two days recovering in hospital - the first because of the drugs in my blood, and the second because I was pretty much going to shoot that ex-boyfriend bastard right between the eyes, like I should've down when he first cheated on me with my brother's wife.

SHIELD felt the need to intervene and keep me in to calm me down.

It didn't really work.

I'd gotten up on the third day, walked into the bathroom to put on some new clothes – courtesy of Tony Stark's "get better Kitten!" package that Pepper had dropped off - realized I had forgotten my jeans on the floor.

The note was written in Hawkeye's familiar scrawl, propped neatly against my folded jeans, the same ones I'd literally just tossed over my shoulder and onto the floor. You can bet nearly every dollar you have that I vault the mattress and snatch that shit up, all the while spinning and trying to catch him still lingering, because I was gone for all of point zero one of a freaking second.

'Kit. When you're ready, come up to the pent house at Stark Tower. We've gotta debrief and Tony wants to party. Much love xx.'

"Holy shit." Was all the words I could effectively articulate.

I was looking good, and I knew it.

There was a moment when I considered not wearing heels, but I thought back to Steve and Thor's height, and the fact that Widow's ass was as fantastic as it was, in combination with how pretty and powerful Jane and Pepper were. I assumed at least half of the aforementioned would be there, at least.

The skirt was tight and the shirt was tighter - puppies were up and out, somewhere around my neck. I had freshly washed hair in a sweepy, loose mess, and my eyes were lined like a tiger's. I had just set foot on the hall outside of Tony's meeting room when:

"Hey Kitten."

"JESUS CHRIST SUSAN!" I whirled with full intentions of beating him to death. With my purse, to add insult to his injuries.

He caught me as I teetered on the heels, then helped me keep my feet while I scowled at his grin.

"I love it when I scare you."

"You don't scare me. You startle me. Widow scares me."

"Thanks, Kit." her voice was velvety. She came over and stood beside Barton, who was still grinning ear to ear.

I raised my hand in a threatening way. "If he does that again, I'll sack tap him into the next dimension."

"Sack tap...?"

"I'll smack you in the balls."

"You won't." she assured me, taking my arm. "I will. Come on."

I - ever the adult - stuck my tongue out at Barton, who playfully snapped his teeth at me in return. Widow was still gorgeous, her hair all done up. Hawkeye kept pace at her other side while I had minor difficulties doing so, mostly because of the heels.

"You look good, Kit." Hawkeye's leaning back, his eyes on the hem of my skirt.

"I know. And thanks for nearly making me wet my pants in the hospital. I almost got committed with the insistence that a man with a bow and arrows had been organizing my shit when I wasn't looking."

"You're welcome."

"You're just too damn happy about that." I mumbled.

"Heard you got fired." Widow mentions casually. "Tough break."

"Way to ease into that conversation." he snorts.

I just shrug.

"Eh. After someone did such a good job of scaring the old kidnapping boss into moving continents, the new boss and I... Well, Flick has her reasons, I think she accused me of stealing something. And 'sides. it's easier on me to now hunt the ex-boyfriend ex-boss ex-stalker down and cut him into itty bitty pieces, I have more free time this way... I'll figure something out. Always do."

"Of course." she nods.

"Cats always land on their feet." Hawkeye says with a mischievous look my way, and pushes open the double doors with his back.

"Ay! Kitten! Now the party begins!" Tony puts an arm around both me and Pepper. My shoulders, her waist. "Long time no see. Looks like you pulled up alight. Knew you would."

"He's already been drinking." Pepper says, and pats my shoulder. "I'm sorry to hear that you were unfairly terminated. If you'd like, I can see what I can do to rectify that."

"Not even. I'm enjoying freedom. But thanks for the offer."

"So you don't want to write any more?" she quizzes, cocking a finely shaped brow.

I shrug.

"I honestly don't know what I want, actually. I usually do, but these days, I'm not so sure."

"Huh. Well that's handy." Is all I get from Tony, who pulls me in just a little bit closer. He is now steering us to where the pulse of music is making several various art forms buzz along the walls.

"Tony." Widow says in her lethal purr. "The debreif?"

"Yeah yeah, we'll get there eventually. Now you two crazy kids can either skip along or flunk and be square, whatever, I don't care. Kitten, I got brandy on tap, and I got that red whiskey you like."

Oh jeeze. Apparently he's trying to get me wasted. The red whiskey goes down like water to me, except it hits me like a damn freight train.

Barton snorts, looks at Widow, who's watching us like we're pre-teens with a bottle of wine to share between us for the first time. I don't really plan to drink much, especially not if Hawkeye is going to be present and I'm in these shoes. I glance over my shoulder – they're giving each other this intense burning look. Oh yeah, nothing happened there, my left tit it didn't.

"I'm in." Hawkeye says, then looks my way.

"Someone has to keep an eye on you." Red says mildly.

"Please." Tony scoffs, mock-insulted. "We have a Steve for that."

"We have to get this debriefing done, Stark." Widow says. "I'll give you some time here."

"Because you know that I'm gonna do it anyway?"

"In a nutshell." Hawkeye makes some nice quizzical eyebrows at the curly haired woman, who has her eyes trained on the millionaire wrapped around me.

"Niether of us are drinking-" she continues, but Tony cuts her short.

"You, though, you should definitely get wasted and strip. Those shoes can't be comfortable, I'm just concerned for your delicate arches - ow, Pep, don't smack me- Kit! - don't you get me from that side - I'm just suggesting!"

"Stop suggesting." Pepper says, and I break away from under his arm to laugh at him some more. Pepper pulls him aside, allowing the super spies and myself to wonder into the pulsing room. Steve's got his shoulders hunched, occasionally flinching at the music and it's astounding decibel, but that stops when he sees me, seeing as he strides over and hugs me off the floor.

"Woah, easy cowboy, I'm only human, you know!"

"I hated it when you were sick. Made me think of the war. Don't begrudge me." he says, putting me down again. "How did the debriefing go?"

"It didn't," is Tony's explanation. He struts right on past us minus a Pepper, grinning widely, to fist bump Thor and greet Jane. Darcy bounds my way, her eyes on Hawkeye's suit pants. He's moved over to the bar with Widow, who have gone to speak to a scowling Doc.

"That's clearly the Hotguy you were writing about, I didn't see it before. But damn, do I see it now."

"Y-Yeah, uh," I clear my throat, noting Steven's rather amused expression aimed down at my mild stutter. "That'd be him."

"Oh god, I've seen him mostly naked." She remembers, which of course, stirs certain memories of my own to the forefront of my brain. "I'm suddenly feeling a burning sensation south of the boarder. God, he wears sweat so well! And c'mon, like you don't totally wanna hit it." She blinks at him when - at several feet away, over Tony's hearing impaired music system, he sends her a naughty grin. The kind of grin that lets a girl know he's heard every damn word she's just said.

"Aaaaand he's all yours."

"Psh." Is my answer to that. I pat Steven's arm. "How are you?"

"I'm going okay. How are you? You look-" he chokes, looks around, settles on: "Nice."

"I know." I tell him, and whack his shoulder. "But you're doing better with the talking to ladies thing."

"Darcy is helping with that." he says, and instantly, he softens. It's freaking adorable. She can stare at Barton all she likes, there's hots going on between them both. I'm waiting until the release date of this article for them to finally ball-up and get together already, jeeze.

"I try my best." Darcy says, and takes his hand. "C'mon, come speak to Thor, or he'll get upset."

I look around, spy Loki in a corner, brooding, a glass of red wine in his hand. He isn't watching me until I see him, when he smiles, like the creeper he is, and gets up to head me off.

"Kitty."

"Loki."

I search the twinkle in his eyes. I don't know what he's thinking until he says:

"I understand you better now that your boss and ex-lover has stolen you."

"Ex-boss."

"I thought that was some kind of gaming console?"

I scowl.

"I doubt you'll ever understand me, your highness."

"You don't mean that, do you, Liz?"

The small name makes me jolt. It's something my father used to call me a lot. I ball my hands up into fists.

"Retract your claws, Kitten. You know the circumstances as well as I. Far be it from me to try and hurt you, not in the room full of friends. And whatever dear Hawkeye is to you."

"Seriously, you have a problem with him and me. I'm starting to think it's jealousy."

"As if I'd ever want you."

"I wasn't talking about me." I say lightly.

His teeth snap together and grind.

"At least I would know how to care for him."

"Traversing his mind doesn't count."

"I've seen your insides, Kitten, I wouldn't have to know him beyond just another man to know I could love him better."

"Who's talking about love, here?" I say airily. "That's your word, not mine."

"Are you so sure?"

I want to retort. I'd throw down with him if I wasn't absolutely sure everyone in the room was listening in, even though there was mild conversation, it was pausing when we spoke. I just smile, because smiling enemies are always the worst kind.

"So it is jealousy, then. Don't worry, you can come to the wedding."

"I'd be honored."

"Of course, you'd make a pretty maid of honor." There's a moment were we communicate through a heated glare. Then:

"I wonder if you realize what they have planned for you."

I narrow my eyes.

"Loki, I don't know if you're aware, but I won't trust a word that comes out of your mouth."

"You didn't seem to mind me so much when I held you. On the back of that van. Keening into me, as after your namesake."

"I was very sick."

"Excuses, excuses."

He lifts my fisted hand to his mouth, forcibly uncurls my fingers, and plants a very careful kiss on my knuckles. I briefly entertain the idea of punching him right in the mouth, but he lets my hand go before I can fully decide if it's worth the consequences, bows his head back to his wine, and looks at me from under his lashes.

"Do tell dear Nick I send my kindest."

"And what is your kindest, a fistful of snakes?"

"Just a singular, particularly venomous one." He smiles, and it's not a nice smile. I turn and walk away, go straight to the red whiskey bottle, and take a good long mouthful. I turn, prop myself up on the table, see Tony and Doc have bracketed me in. Doc puts a friendly arm over my shoulders and pats my arm, while Tony sticks his own bottle in his mouth and pulls himself up on the table, shades up on his head.

"Do you want me to do anything about him?"

"Nope." I lean into Doc's arm, smile at Thor, who's beaming, bounding over to us with Mew balanced on his shoulder. The cat – still young, but bigger than a regular sized cat, looks bored, like it's his everyday to be clinging to the god of Thunder. Which, I guess it is. He looks at me, unimpressed, as I smooth a hand over his head, try and make some of his static electricity go away.

Then the drinking and merry-making begins, because - Hello, Thor, and your inability to get plastered on Midgaurdian beverages. Hello Tony, and your endless supply of all my favorite alcohol. Hello Loki, and your sneaky refilling of my cup. And hello Doc, who keeps promising me that things are going to be okay.

What I remember is this:

Tony and I, butts balanced on his balcony, threatening to jump unless Widow takes her clothes off.

Barton, with a small swagger, swinging up onto the ledge and standing there with his hands in the air, swaying slightly and me freaking out because - omigod STEVE! He's going to fall and die, and omigod, don't die, you'll be so much uglier as a stain on the side walk- STEVEN, DO SOMETHING!

Jane, Darcy and Pepper are messy, messy drunks. Jane clings, Thor doesn't mind. Darcy dances, Steve doesn't mind. Pepper has serious concerns, and it is Tony's genuine fear that she never relaxes.

Tony with me in the bathroom, singing AC/DC in the bathtub. Why were we in the bathtub? Someone was hosing us down. Why were we being hosed down? I don't know.

I remember Barton, I remember going to dance with Darcy and then being pulled into a dance with him. I remember being inches apart from his face, with my hands against his shoulders, and then Steven breaking us up before we dirty danced into the horizontal tango. I remember Darcy intervening, telling him to do something more productive with his time, like dance with me, solider boy.

Steve and Darcy, so close, yet so far.

I remember snapping a heel (twisting my ankle) and violently damning it to the darkest depths of the nine realms, going on a tangin that made Loki laugh and laugh and laugh, until I was so not angry with the shoe as much as I was so amused at the laughter. Loki, with his damn smirk, looking at me with a glint in his eye that isn't cruel, not entirely.

I remember Widow pulling one of Tony's shirts over my head, and his shorts up my legs. Then I remember Doc giving me a hug and bidding me goodnight, and me taking exactly ten seconds to follow him and end my party curled up under his arm.

That doesn't explain how I now have the Black Widow's insignia - the hourglass, or whatever it's supposed to be - tattoo'd on the green cat on the back of my thigh.

Or why I had ink all over my hands, and what appeared to be the beginnings of some important mathematical formula drawn onto the inside of my forearm, mostly smudged but apparently still legible, when I brought it up at lunch.

Or even why I had one of Mew's bells in a hoop in my ear, with one lonely sock on my left foot and a ring on my left hand. A ring, that for some reason, will not come off.

Yeah, you can bet I nearly died when I saw the big green stone shimmering on a particularly important finger, and the curly gold setting that looked suspiciously like a certain god's name. I threw up for a bit, wrapped myself in one of Doc's cardigans, and fell into the lounge, nearly falling onto Darcy, who was nursing a bucket by the couch.

"Jane and Thor are out of it, still." she murmurs. "Pepper's up, but in a bad mood. Steve's... Steve's AWOL. Dunno where Hotguy and Sexy Spider are, they went last night. Doc's with Tony, if you want him."

"Mmm." Is all I say. "What about Loki?"

"What about him?" she grumps.

"Where's he?"

"I don't know."

I don't want to ask Thor. He's probably taking care of his woman. So I shuffle down to the labs, curl into Tony's side, make sad noises until he puts an arm around me and pats my head carefully.

"Where's Loki?"

"Why?"

"Not important." But I'm guilty as hell because it's very important, and they're staring at me like they know. "I'm wearing a ring..." I mumble, and Tony nearly dies when he sees it.

Naturally we find him, all casual and suave, in the lab where I originally went. Mew is sitting on his knee, looking prim and proper, his usual fuzz being soothed under a less electric hand.

"Are we married?" I shoot off.

"I should hope not." he muses. "Unless that's some kind of inarticulate Midgaurdian proposal, in which case, I'm far and beyond out of your league."

I flip him the bejeweled finger.

"Then what the hell is this?"

"It's a promise ring." he blinks, looks between whoever's heard I'm married and has rallied to see the resulting fall out. "You mentioned them. Last night." he flicks his eyes back to me.

"I then I made you a promise. And I gave you that ring. You were pleased."

I scowl. I don't even like green, or wear gold.

"Why won't it come off?"

"Because I haven't broken my promise." he says, dead pan serious. "Why else?"

Naturally, he won't tell me what the promise is. But he does move the ring to a different finger when he realizes the significance of the one he's otherwise chosen, and has the indecency to look all smug about how flustered it made me.

My ring won't come off, but it does occasionally change fingers. Like when I'm talking to Hawkeye. It'll wind up on my ring finger. When I'm trying to pen something down, it gets in the way of my right pointer finger. When I'm trying to enjoy my coffee, it gets heavier, and it has since caught on every item of clothing I own, and has viciously pulled out a few strands of hair. Sometimes I think it's sentient, and I yell at it, and those are the times I swear I can hear a god laughing at me.

But otherwise, it's just kind of, there. And I get a lot of compliments on it.

The debrief is of course, postponed when I think I'm married, so we push it to the day after, when everyone is more fully recovered. I find the room I've been designated to, and am surprised to find there's only Nick, Tony, Pepper, Widow and Barton in the room, sitting in a line, like a judging panel. I thought I'd deal with more SHIELD lawyers, or at least some scary suits and shades.

But no, it's just the usual. Nick gets to his feet, as does Pepper - But Tony just kicks his legs onto the desk and grins over his shades.

"How're you doin', Kitten?"

"I'm fine. Mildly confused." I watch Widow and Feathers nod to each other at opposite ends of the table.

"Miss Black."

"Nick." I bat my lashes, and he lifts his hand to a chair in front of their row. "Am I in trouble this time?"

"Not at all." he says, but it's questionable by his tone. "Have a seat."

I take it, put my knees together and swing them to the side, trying my modesty. Tony's feet are smacked down by Pepper, who's smiling her encouragement my way, while Hawkeye and Widow are completely unreadable. Tony has his elbow up on the backs of both Widow and Pepper's chairs, looking bored out of his skull.

"We hired you with the intentions of good publicity." Nick says, folding his fingers together. "We were pressed to find someone who would not seem favored above any member of the public for unidentifiable reasons to give the job to. We needed someone who could hold their own against the team as individuals."

"Which you did." Tony says.

"We were satisfied with your work, right up until the first incident."

"I wasn't aware there was more than one... 'Incident.'" I raise both brows. "How many are there, exactly, Nick?"

"More than I like to think about." and his look makes me shrink a little. I hide the ring on my middle finger self-consciously.

"The one in particular, concerning Doctor Foster's safety." Nick blinks slowly, lets me gather my wits. "During your interview with Thor." he clues me.

"...The creepy stalker guy in the park?"

"Yes." he nods, looking severe.

"Wait, I thought this was about getting kidnapped?"

"This is about everything. We're efficient."

"Naturally." I say, and glance around. "Should I be concerned...?"

Tony shrugs. Not good. I may or may not squeeze the ring.

"What you didn't know," Nick continues, "Was that we had persons linked to your live feed, to make sure you weren't editing or up to any particular prying. When Stark shut off the microphone for those few hours, we were the ones that had to turn it back on by remote." he fixes a dark look at Tony, who shrugs.

"I wanted privacy for my drinking game." is how he explains himself.

"So I've been told." he says dangerously, then returns attention to me. "That stalker was a trained assassin sent to abduct Thor's girlfriend and hold her at ransom. You not only saw him, but you made him. Then you acted in an appropriate way until you could discern he was a threat and took him out without causing a scene."

"Yeah, well..." I rub the back of my neck, glance at Hawkeye and Widow, look back at Nick.

"We weren't particularly interested in retrieving the footage from the invasion. We had enough eyewitnesses attest to you taking care of nearly fourteen aliens, from what we estimated. After we pulled the cameras from the incident, clarifying that you did all you said you did, we decided to look further into it."

"I looked into it." Tony corrected. "Because he asked nicely. JARVIS worked through the data, but most was totaled. I had to do a fair bit of work on it, but most of it is viewable. Which is why it took you so long to get from point A to point B." he jerked his thumb at Hawkeye.

"The extra weeks between Thor and Hawkeye's interviews..." I blink for a while. "...Was because you wanted to see what I did during the invasion?"

"Yes." Nick nods, and Tony brings up a series of four screens, all showing me in various states of battle - be it guns, metal bats, hand-to-hand, smashing into aliens with cars, Self Igniting Molotov Cocktails and all.

I watch myself shield people with reckless driving, pull myself up through busted glass, use the invader's weapons against them. I watch myself point people into safety, and set up what looks to be a parameter, which I then man with my rifle - the one no one is supposed to know about - up on my shoulder. I watch myself make a mad dash for a pair of siblings lying injured in the middle of the road, trying to avoid being trampled by an army - I watch myself leap over them and drive a chef's knife up through the alien's mouth as it lowers to devour them, or whatever it is aliens do.

Tony cuts the feed, and I can feel myself sinking in the chair, feeling awkward and embarrassed.

"We totaled thirty two." Nick says, and stares at me.

"Thirty four." I correct, in a very small voice.

"Then there was the matter of how you handled yourself at the Expo." Fury went on.

Tony grins. "See, this is the thing. We all kind of have a hard on for tough ladies. And you had all kinds of potential from when you first started working this thing, but we didn't pay attention until your old pal Feathers, over there."

"I was assigned to assess you." he mentions, leaning forward on his forearms. "It's why I snuck around so much, to see if you caught me. You were being studied, while you studied me."

"So was I." Widow concurs. "This is why I kept throwing all those hypothetical situations at you. We found you acceptable. Probable."

"For what, exactly?"

Pepper shifts in her seat, opens up her own manila file.

"You did a Major in Creative Writing?"

"Yeah."

"And a Minor in Business?"

"Yeah..."

"Well, I could always use a link to the media." she says with a small smile. "Tony Stark happens to work up a mess with his public, and I don't have time to look after those kinds of things, not all the time."

"Okay. I don't get it."

"We think you'd do well in the Avengers world." Nick says, kind of casually, considering the weight of his proposal. "We want you to do some further training, and in the mean time, work for Miss Potts as a kind of cover. Frankly, I would have you on solely because you and Loki seem to get along majority of the time, and he talks to you, which Thor says is rare."

"Did you even read what he did to me? What he did at the Expo?"

"I watched it all, as it was happening. You handled yourself."

"Are you actually insane?"

"It could've been much worse." Barton says.

"You would know." I say, crossing my arms. His face goes cold, devoid of all emotion. "So why are you okay with me babysitting the sociopath?"

"I hope you aren't talking about me, here." Tony mentions loosely.

"Look, I'm just pointing out, Loki doesn't like me. We do not 'get along'."

"You've seen him with everybody else." Widow says, and her voice is literally the bucket of cold water over the fire in my chest. I calm down because, well, she scares me into it.

"He doesn't speak, and when he does, it's with something-... cruel. He growls at any one outside of the Avengers that gets too close. Tries to ruin the relationships we have. With you, he's- less, of that, more of what Thor tells us he used to be like. Whatever you two got up to when you were in your mind, it changed him. At least, concerning you."

"Don't bother asking. I will never tell." I vow, as Nick opens his mouth.

He closes it, resettles in his chair, nods.

"Fine." he says, and waits. "If you need proof, you only need to look at your right hand. He's given you a token. A promise of something."

My right hand? Of course, the ring has moved, as I've been hiding it, it's gone onto the other finger. I just sigh when I see it.

"I think... I don't know. I'd gladly work for Tony, and Pepper. But for SHIELD?" I raise my eyebrows at them, "Nick, as much as I adore you, I've been running circles around you for the better part of half a year and, I gotta tell you, it looks horrid." And then, because ladyballs always ruin my civility: " I want the same deal Tony has."

"You don't call the shots here." Nick says.

I shrug.

"Fine. I won't do it then."

There's a long, silent pause, which is unsettling in the presence of Tony Stark. He looks over his glasses at Nick, who keeps his eye on me, narrowing further and further until he's assessing me through his lashes, and I can't make anything of it.

"So... Time for red whiskey, Tone?" I say lightly.

"Sit." Nick says, as Tony gets to his feet. With an exasperated sigh and a rub of his temples, Tony retakes his seat, but he puts his legs over Pepper's lap and reclines into a mostly horizontal position.

"I don't see why this is necessary." I say, trying to fix the line of my skirt to at least a mildly acceptable length. "All this drama. Seriously. You can't want me that badly..."

"It would appear I've underestimated you." Nick acknowledges this.

"Wouldn't be the first time."

Shut up, pride. You're drunk, go home.

He glances over to his agents, who are watching me with unblinking eyes.

"Give us a moment." He says, and pushes back from the desk. The other Agents take longer to adjourn, get up, rehash my offer more privately. I squirm, Tony bugs Pepper until she whacks him with a stack of papers, and then the personnel take their respective seats, all give me the same look.

"Miss Black." Fury, flanked by his well dressed besties,folds his hands in front of his face, partially obscuring my view of his mouth, so I can't tell from what little expression what he's feeling. He's not showing signs of aggression, at least, but he doesn't sound happy. "I'll draw up paper work and you're on trial."

Tony claps a hand on Pepper's shoulder. "You know she's mine, either way?"

Nick ignores him.

"Keep an eye on the situation." He nods to me, gets out of his seat. "We're looking into your history, Black. So I'll be seeing you, sooner or later."

"Sure you will." I say, and try to maintain perfect calm. He just shrugs, and I wait until he leaves before I exhale. "Good God, I'm going to wind up wearing concrete shoes when he finds out what I've been up to."

"No you aren't." Widow says evenly. "That's the mob. We're more discreet."

"Oh, that makes me feel better, thanks." I stare after him at the door, suddenly trying to recall all the stupid shit I've done since teenagedom and an official record. Several evil ex's, the kidnapping one not even included, and I've got an interesting history, to say the least.

"So. I think drinks." Tony says, and winds an arm around my shoulders. "Steve had money on you getting in for sure. He owes me a fifty. I told him not all the way in. Second base, at the most."

"You're a billionaire, why on earth are you calling in a fifty dollar note?"

I'm a little dazed. Did that just happen?

He snorts.

"It's the principle. Welcome to the club, Kitten."

THE END

So, this didn't turn out how I thought it would.

Thanks for reading!

Aude

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