"Have you actually moved in the last hour?"
You finally tore your eyes away from the array of computer screens in front of you to glance back at where Loki lounged in a nearby spare chair, his feet up on one of the emptier desks. You blinked your weary eyes clear of the engrained pixels in your vision, watching as the god once again tossed something metal into the air, watching it spin as it fell until he caught it again.
"It's called thinking." You muttered in annoyance, your throat slightly croaky from lack of use, and you turned back to the screens reluctantly. "Anyway, I could ask you the same thing." You muttered back at him. "Isn't there somewhere you need to be other than in here being a back-seat driver to my work?"
"And miss out on your cold sarcastic remarks?" He raised his eyebrows at you.
Just then, there was a knock at the door behind the two of you and a moment later Natasha Romanoff walked in. "[Y/N] –" She faltered as you turned to greet her, having spotting Loki and raising her eyebrows in apparent surprise to see the god sat with you. Loki had somehow managed to quickly drop his legs from the table, so he now sat upright, looking unfazed by the interruption, but clearly not wanting to appear too relaxed in your company. "Uh – can I speak with you alone please, [Y/N]?" Natasha asked, her eyes flickering between you and the Asgardian.
You blinked surprised, "Uh – yeah – sure." You glanced over at Loki and he took the hint, raising his hands and widening his eyes.
"I get it." He declared, getting to his feet. "The top-secret 'hero stuff' that I am forbidden to listen to." He moved to the door, pausing and glancing back. "If you need me I'll be in my evil lair planning my next 'dastardly' scheme." He muttered sarcastically.
You felt your lip twitch in mirth as he now slipped out the door and down the corridor, before you suddenly remembered Natasha in front of you. You turned to her expectantly.
"When was the last time you got some?"
You blinked in surprise again. "Afternoon to you too, Tash." You muttered, turning in your chair to follow her as she now moved past you to lean back against the edge of your desk, crossing her arms under her breasts as she regarded you with an unimpressed frown.
"Answer the question, [Y/N]."
"You mean when was the last time I slept with someone?" You frowned at the very odd, out of the blue question.
She nodded. "Yes."
"You're a spy," You pointed out, turning yourself bac to your main screen, the algorithm you had desperately been working on for hours on end still sitting tauntingly in front of you. "Couldn't you somehow find that out without this, rather awkward, conversation?"
"That's not generally the information kept on people." Natasha muttered, and you quirked an eyebrow in amusement, knowing Nat would be able to see it without you having to look away from the screen again. "I just think you look a bit stressed." Natasha admitted, finally explaining the odd conversation. "I mean, you've locked yourself away in here for days on end now and that I can see you haven't made much progress..." She trailed off, glancing around the room at the mess and multiple screens mostly showing errors or half-finished sections of code you had walked away from after hours of concentration. "You need a way to unwind." She told you.
"Don't people usually suggest a bubble bath for that sorta thing?" You muttered, scrolling through a page of code, your eyes flickering over the pixels.
Natasha shrugged with a slight smirk playing on her lips, "Hey, if that's where you like to do it..."
"Ew, no, Nat, stop picturing that." You grimaced, shaking your head.
