A Taste of Vengeance

Steve sat across from me on the jet as we made our way to Germany. Natasha was silent, in business mode. It was a wonder we had even become friends. Natasha and I had not been quick friends. She was cold as the arctic and calculating. It was hard to believe that she was anything but a machine at times, because of her hard exterior. She didn’t laugh, she didn’t smile, she didn’t do anything but her job.

Natalia Romanova, now Natasha Romanoff lived a hard life, a rough life. When we first came into contact, neither one of us wanted to extend a hand of friendship. It was more like who could gain the upper hand, being the few women in SHIELD. Neither one of us prevailed over the other, for our skills were so different and because we were exactly alike inside. We were a time bomb, and we were enemies.

It was not until a mission that had gone very, very wrong, when I saved her from falling to her death, and she inturned saved me by taking a bullet in the leg. From that moment on, we were cordial, leading to talking, leading to being the only people in the world each of us could talk to. This is how I, Ashlynn Bane, became the only friend Natasha's, and also had the pleasure of using her real name.

I turned my gaze away from Natasha, shifting it to Steve. His head was leaned back against the seat, his eyes closed. He was absolutely still, and I silently compared him to a beautiful carved, marble statue. Steve had a classic, handsome look to his face. His blonde hair was pushed perfectly to the side, as they had done in the older days. Although his eyes were closed, I could imagine the focus in his sapphire pools, preparing to do what the country needed. His uniform fit perfectly over the taught, rugged muscles, and I found myself wondering if his skin felt as smooth as it looked.

Captain Rogers opened his eyes then, looking right at me as if he could sense me staring. I didn’t divert my eyes, although my first reaction had been to do just that. He slowly smiled at me, and it was a kind of smile that made my chest bloom in warmth, like a daisy blooming in a yellow field, filled with sunshine. The feeling was foreign and I felt my cheeks heat as I returned the smile fleetingly, turning to look back out of the window, my pony swinging.

The SHIELD suit, thankfully, was light and flexible. The jet was not the coolest aired thing in the world, but the suit was made with the finest technology, made to cool when need, and to warm when needed. It was also heat resistant for flames, and mine in particular was made to withstand rips and tears. I had torn multiple suits before they could create one to contain and move with my inhuman strength.

My hair was braided into a pony tail, my traditional style for battle. The only time I ever wore it down was when I was in disguise on missions. The long locks tended to get in the way, especially if I happened to be covered in gore or sweat.

My nerves were fare calmer than I would thought they would be as Natasha announced we would be there in moments. She cast a glance backwards at us, giving us both a nod. Tony Stark, who had declined the ride, was flying somewhere around us in his suit. I was sure he would make a flashy entrance as he so often did. I almost laughed at the possibilities, but I felt that this was not the time to laugh.

Steve stood up then, putting a gun in his holster and putting the shield on his arm. I admired the piece of weaponry. It was beautifully painted, and unscratched, even after countless battles. He laughed when he saw me looking and said, “Remarkable, isn’t it?”
I smirked. “I suppose. People like me don’t need shields to protect them.”
He rolled his eyes, such a casual gesture that I found myself intrigued. “That’s why I won’t be shot. You on the other hand…”
I smiled. “Try it.”
His face fell. “What?”
“Shoot at me.” I stood up then, taking a stance but he was already shaking his head.
“I’m not going to shoot you, Agent Bane.”
It was my turn to roll my eyes. “You’re not going to hit me. I’m a mutant, remember?”
“What, so mutants are immortal?”
“Actually,” I said, pointing my finger in a most scholarly manner. “Some are-"

A gun shot rung out but I had already thrust my palm forward, sensing it. The bullet bounced harmlessly off of an invisible wall before penetrating my suit and skin. Steve had flinched and looked at Natasha, incredulous. She wasn’t facing either one of his, but there was a pistol in her hand, pointing right at me as she drove the jet expertly.

“Now will you both shut up?” she asked, holstering the gun. I smiled at the Captain triumphantly. “You’re up, Captain. Seems Loki has the entire gala on their knees down there.”
“He really likes being superior doesn’t he?” I asked, reaching out of habit to straighten Steve’s holster. He caught my hand for a moment, making my heart skip a beat. Even through the fabric of his suit, I could feel the warmth in his hand. He have it a quick squeeze before letting it go and turning away from me, ready to drop the door down.
“Almost as much as he likes blowing stuff up. Alright Cap, I’m opening the door. Good luck. Stark is right behind us.”

I gave Rogers one last fleeting look before sliding into the seat beside Natasha, sliding a head set on and pressing buttons to activate the shield on the plane as well as stable the thrusters. Natasha moved the jet the moment Steve jumped out of the aircraft, giving him a wide berth to take care of his work.

Bellow, a scene that was quite interesting was taking place. Loki stood in all his grandeur, holding what looked like to be a scepter with glowing power. Loki looked the part of a god, that much was obvious form first glance. His raven black hair hung at his shoulders, pushed out of his face. He had gold plated Asgardian armor on, with a forest green cape that fluttered in the gentle breeze behind him. He truly looked like the essence of power, the very core of evil.

I watched as one elderly man stood up in the crowed, looking defiantly at Loki. “We will not kneel to men like you.”
I furrowed my brows. What was this man doing? “There are no men like me,” Loki pointed out, trying to keep his calm.
The old man shook his head. “There are always men like you.”

It was clear Loki’s patience was at an end. He raised his sceptor to finish off the old man, and I was out of my seat, moving to intervene when Steve landed from a elegant, clean jump in front of the old man, shield poised to protect. My heart soared for a moment, to my confusion. Watching Captain America stand there was truly moving, and I could see why so many had been in love with the symbol of heroism.

“You know,” He commented lightly. “The last time I was in Germany and saw a man standing above everyone else, we ended up disagreeing.”
“The solider!” Loki hopped off the car he was standing on top of, landing on the ground lightly, like a cat. “A man out of time.”
“Oh,” Steve laughed. “I think you’re the one out of time.”

Natasha moved the aircraft so quickly that I stumbled, catching my balance on the seat. She moved it with expertise and skill, pointing the machine gun at him directly. The god glanced at us as if we were nothing more than a nuisance, which bothered me. If he could have a huge M61 Vulcan- a highly powered gun that sends 20mm rounds faster than you could blink- and cast us nothing but an annoyed glance, I was very worried.

“Loki,” Natasha warned. “Drop the weapon and stand down.”

Loki sneered at us. It was such a dangerous, animal-like gesture, that I had to blink twice before reacting. He moved quickly and without warning, swinging his scepter with deadly procission at Steve. My mind reacted faster than, my body, throwing up a psychic wall before the blast could reach the Captain.

The ball of deadly energy the scepter had shot out exploded in tendrils of blue and white energy. It was like nothing I had ever seen before, and I knew that whatever this scepter was made of was more or less the same energy and power of the tesseracct. Such a weapon would not be easy to defeat.

The collision sent Steve rolling backwards but he recovered with quick and trained ease. Loki glanced upwards, looking right into the cockpit at me. I felt everything go cold in my veins and I threw up at wall around my mind, shutting it off to anything on the outside. I didn’t think Loki was a telepath, but the fact that he was a God meant that he was very, very different in makeup and strength compared to myself. The limits of what he could do were endless.

“I see you have a little mutant helping you,” Loki said, narrowing his eyes. “Touching.”
Steve leapt forward then, catching Loki unawares and using his strength to knock Loki’s legs from underneath him. Loki hit the ground with a very unpleasant look on his face, but he was rising once again, moving to attack Steve.

And as usual, better-late-than-never-Tony landed in front of Loki with a smirk on his face as his masked closed down over his face, lighting up as it powered on. With a single raising of his arm, Stark’s palm lit up, blasting the god several feet into the air.

“And that’s why you don’t leave me out of a plan,” he said in the earpiece.
“Thanks for joining the party,” I muttered, sitting down and watching as both Steve and Rogers took on Loki with a kind of joined ease. “It was just starting to get boring.

I watched with an eyebrow raised as Steve and Tony worked together. I had to give it to Tony- his weaponry was unparralelled and his suit was in fact pure genius. How a man such as himself stumble into the path of a genius weapon engineer and specialist surpassed my understanding.

The magnificent Captain America certainly lived up to his legend too. He moved with grace and power, fighting with expert training. He never failed to recover fro man attack, or predict what Loki was going to do. Unlike Iron Man, Captain America wasn’t erratic in his fighting, and every punch was calculated and placed with care.

“Alright, I’m tired of this,” I grunted, getting up from the seat and running to the exit. Natasha called after me but I was already dropping through the air, wind roaring in my ears as I landed on the pavement in a crouch.

I ran towards the fighting boys, feeling the adrenaline rush through me. Sometimes I felt like if you wanted anything done, you had to do it yourself. I was quite tired of watching the boys fight for the upper hand. I ran up several piled cars, moving swiftly. Atop the car, I watched as Loki raised his magic stick again before Steve knocked it out of his hands. Loki made to go for it but I thrust my palm out, curling my fingers slightly at the ends, as if I were holding him in place. And that’s what I was doing.

Loki halted mid-step, trying to move out of my grip. I was surprised he didn’t try harder, and I felt somewhat annoyed and anxious that he had not pushed harder against my hold. After a few more attempts at moving he gave, up, sighing. Both of my teammates turned to look at me and I raised my eyebrows at them, hand on my hip. “We’re on a tight schedule, boys.”