“The spider.” Loki hissed, his mouth contorted in a mocking expression of blatant amusement, beneath which gleamed a veiled suspicion. Naught simply naive led the Russian woman to his presence; the crimson bathed agent, whom believed herself to be washing the stains from her flesh by siding with…
Natasha watched him chuckle darkly, moving with such snide triumph as if he’s got her backed into a corner. she watched him speak, crossing her arms. “Romanoff will do just fine.” She replied dully, eyeing him suspiciously. The red headed agent cocked her head to one side ever so slightly. “You seem awful happy with yourself today.” It was partly a question, though she put it in a way that didn’t seem completely prying. After all, Natasha had no idea what he’s been up to since she had last seen him after New York. She also didn’t know why he was back here, though she intended on finding out.
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