The Brewing Storm

The Scepter

18.

After another full day of researching, we had made an executive decision that we would head to Sokovia the day after, giving us enough time to suit up, and know exactly what we would be walking into. Clint and Steve had gone to get shawarma from the store downtown, whilst the rest of us lounged around the tower, waiting for Hill to send us the coordinates of the underground base.

We had much time to experiment that day, so we had also found a way to calm the anger out of the Hulk after he is unleashed. We needed to get his sensitive side. Trigger words, for example, or a phrase that he knows. He and the others had been practicing whilst I had been taking most of my time training with my blade in the new facility, until Natasha eventually joined me, and the pair of us practiced our hand in hand combat moves. Let's just say, both of us left with equal bruises after any session we spent together.

I spend the remainder of my time walking around in shorts and a tank top, revealing the scars along both my arms and legs. The one along my left thigh had healed well, I suppose I had Valentina's home made medicine to thank for that. Since arriving in New York, I had very little contact with anyone in Malibu, were they still safe? Had Max tried to betray them? The thought of his treacherous face in that house without me sends shivers down my spine.

Romanoff's fist across my jaw took me completely by surprise as I staggered away from her. The sweat that had been brewing across my entire body forced my guard down for the shortest moment. I tilt my head towards her, and smirk. "C'mon, that was uncalled for."

She circles around me on the training mat, watching me closely as I pour the remaining water into my mouth. "You need to concentrate."

"I am concentrating!"

"You're thinking about him-" I dodge a fake bomb that she tosses in my direction. "Stop." I squeeze the plastic bottle into a ball, and toss it aside, taking a step towards her. She was anticipating the kick to her side, so she blocked it instantly. "Don't attack with anger. You become predictable."

She aims to grab my arm, but I elbow her grip away. She moves to my shoulder, but I smack that one away too, and slap the back of my hand hard against her cheek. Nat stumbles, fighting to get her air back. I grin, once she manages to straighten up. "You need to work on your stance." I mock, resuming my own position as she lunges for me again.

With her fists flailing, she sends one fast towards my jaw, my head whips back, my body arching backwards in what feels like eternity until I snap back towards her like a rubber band, my forehead slamming against her nose, wiping her clean onto the ground. But the spy spins her legs along the floor, knocking me off balance, forcing my back to slam down hard onto the mat. I groan out in agony, until a laugh eventually escapes me when the red head appears in my vision, panting, "I win."

She holds a hand out, which I take eagerly, but pull her down to my side and roll into a standing position, my hand flickering with electricity as I aim, halting the spy in her recovery. "No, I win."

"You cheated." She points out, but I simply shrug, and grin.

"It's a habit." Allowing the spark to die from my hand, I offer her a genuine helping hand, and heave her up to my side. "That was good." I toss a towel in her direction, and slump down on the sofa that Tony had the honor of placing in here, right after he called me lazy. Natasha shakes her head in amusement, pulling her sweater back on, and releasing the tie from her hair. "I'm going for a shower, you need anything?"

"I'm good, I need to go and sort through a few things anyway, just don't use all the hot water."

I smile, heading up the stairs as Nat heads down the hallway. I had still made no attempt to redesign my bedroom, and yet somehow I had already made a mess, with clothes draped from their hangers all over the place, or simply sprawled across the floor. I place a hand on my bedroom door when I hear a jet land on the runway of the tower. A smirk spreading across my lips, I whip the towel from behind my neck, and brush my hair to the side as I make my way towards the area, where the woman who despises me barks orders at the pilot.