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Love and Lusting in New Hampshire	By : miladygrimm Category: Marvel Verse Movies > Avengers, The Views: 5420 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Avengers nor do I make any money from this work.

Chapter List
- 1-Love and Lusting in New Hampshire
- 1
A twelve story drop was a rush you felt in your soul. Natasha felt it ripple through her like a bone deep cold wind as she opened her arms to the thrilling dive. Her cherry hair whipped around her face as she brought her arms together and twisted to change direction midair. With a flick of her wrist the rope snapped free and momentum carried her through an open window. She tumbled soundlessly landing in a low crouch; one hand on the latch for her garotte, the other held up to keep a perfect center of balance.
The room that engulfed her was everything she had expected. Darkwood floors fed into lighter shaded walls. Animal heads stuffed as glassy eyed imitations of life were perched every few feet: deer, wolf, bear, so on and so forth. Each one large and more terrifying than the last. Between each head sat black and white pictures of erotic silhouettes captured in various states of elegant debauchery. To one side was a lukewarm fireplace. Embers still flickered behind the wrought iron grate, barely noticeable when outside layers of snow covered the ground.
An old hand decorated with age spots clutched a glass of dark liquid. The fingers were thick and decorated with a smattering of golden rings. They flexed on the cup and turned from a soft gold to pale white causing the spots to stand out on the skin. A sound brought Natasha's attention up to a television where a grainy picture was playing out on screen.
The girl was young, too young, to be naked and splayed open as she was. Barely formed breasts heaved in terror as the female gulped in lungfuls of air. Thick rough ropes were latched around her wrists and ankles making her slim form into a wide X on a sagging mattress. The girl was pale and ebony haired. Her wide almond shaped eyes spoke of oriental heritage. She struggled as a masked man approached the bed. She fought, the wrists straining till the ropes turned her delicately pale skin into harsh red.
He was fat, old, and wrinkled. The mask was vaguely luchador in appearance, and covered everything that needed to be covered to hide him. But he wasn't wearing gloves. The age spots on his hand gave him away.
The girl begged in a language Natasha recognized as Japanese and struggled harder. Natasha looked away. She didn't need to see anymore. She didn't need to remember what she too had lived through. Besides the video was doing a good job of distracting her target.
He was naked, sweating, and enjoying himself with his own hand.
Her file had told her that the girl on the screen was one of many young females who had been kidnapped and abused. Daiku Metsuhara was a business man of some renown who hobbies included buying out other corporations, brown nosing the others, and buying prepubescents to be raped on screen for his sexual gratification.
And he liked variety in his depravement.
The girl on screen was begging for it to stop. She screamed when the man lowered his teeth to her groin and chewed till there was blood. It masked the sound of Natasha unsheathing a blade hidden in a sheath along her spine.
It stopped tonight. No more screams. No more dreams.
It stopped when Natasha swept her blade over his neck and watched blood spill over his belly. It stopped when his heart did.
Natasha wiped the blade off on the dead mans chair. She tapped the remote to turn off the television. With a flick of her wrist Natasha slipped it back in the back sheath and dove out the window. The dead was done and she had somewhere else to be tonight.

It was late in London when Natasha got there. The apartment was dark when Natasha got in. The walls here weren't made of wood, no animal heads, no erotic pictures. These walls were the white of a rented domicile, caked with posters and newspaper clippings. The more recent clippings revolved around the events of the New York battle involving the Chitauri but the clippings were far from avengers-centric. Headlines about the new Pope, a Malaysian fire, political marriages, endangered species and a celtic-pagan gathering during a solstice claimed up plenty of their own space. Beneath each byline was the name Audrey Rockford, Associated Press.
The apartment was small but neat. An attempt to make it homey was apparent in the worn couch that took up most of the living room space, the country style curtains in the kitchen, even the little food dish with the kitten paws around the porcelain edge.
Simple. Neat.
At least till you got to the computer desk. There was a computer still logged on tucked comfortably between copious amounts of books, sheets of paper, crumpled articles, and Disney princess figurines. A little vase held a few smooth stones in various colors. A purple floral bathrobe was tossed haphazardly over the computer chair. The whole place felt like the apartment of a free spirited young woman.
Natasha didn't belong here. She knew it. She didn't belong in the dainty apartment with its pretty figurines or the cat that went with the bowl in the kitchen. She stood there in black staring at an apartment of pink and white feeling like an outsider.
She should leave.
A light down the hallway drew her attention. It had that swish flickering of a flame. Candles. Someone had left candles burning. Natasha crept along the short hallway, past a bathroom decorated with cat fixtures, and into a small bedroom. The entire room was a splash of color. Large vibrant pillows in orange, magenta, and green were piled up, taking nearly half the bed. A large pink blanket embroidered with a unicorn covered a dark haired woman.
The woman was sleeping. The blankets pulled up around her like a cocoon. A large bellied tabby was tucked beneath her arm like a teddy bear, purring away contentedly as it blinked up at Natasha with green eyes. It gave a large yawn and snuggled back against the brunette clearly disinterested in anything that Natasha was doing.
And what was she doing? She was standing here watching this woman sleep like some sort of freak. God damnit. She should go, she shouldn't be here. There was blood still under her fingernails and it had no place here on those riotous sheets and their happy colors.
Yet she couldn't bring herself to walk away. The sleeping woman looked so beautiful in her rest. Her absolute peace was a warmth in which she didn't belong.
Natasha turned to walk away.
“Baby?”
The brunette’s stirred and sat up. Natasha froze and glanced over her shoulder.
“Sweetie, Nat...you're home.”
The brunette tossed back the sheets and nearly dove out of bed, “Nat! Oh god, you're okay.”
Natalie said nothing as she felt those slim pale arms wrap around her. For a moment she stood stock still as the other woman held her. Then, for no reason she could give a name to, she leaned back against the woman.
“Audrey.” Natasha whispered. “I...I'm not okay.”
- 1
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Love and Lusting in New Hampshire