~~~Catherine's pov~~~
After what happened at the party, the team decided it would be best to get some rest before pursuing our hunt for Ultron.
Sadly, my mind didn't get the message, and no matter what I tried, I could not fall asleep!
Turning over on my side, for what felt like the millionth time, I tried to pinpoint what my brain was so occupied with that it couldn't find the time to sleep.
The answer was simple. My mind was filled with thoughts of the raven-haired god I had danced with three hours prior.
There's just something about him... I can't describe it. Although, I am surprised that I can even manage to think about him when earlier tonight, my heart felt like it was going to explode.
It was so strange. Over the past few days, there's been this feeling in my chest. Like something in me, that wasn't there before finally clicked into place.
Come to think of it, the feeling started right after I bumped into Loki on the street. Could he have anything to do with this?
I shrugged off the thought. It was silly.
But this feeling has been plaguing me all damn night. It wasn't really noticeable when I was getting ready for or teleporting to the party. The second I entered that place, my heart started hammering inside my chest, and I couldn't think straight.
Maybe that was why when Justin Hammer started to dance with me, I didn't take the usual Catherine Stark approach and kick him in the nuts.
And when I started dancing with Loki? Forget about it. I thought I was in cardiac arrest. I could barely manage a few sentences! I must've looked like an idiot...
The feeling dissipated when Dad pulled me into the hallway to talk to me and came back when I went to sit with the team to spend time with them. Granted, it wasn't as severe as when Loki and I were dancing.
Now that I think about it, the more I talked to him, the more the feeling lessened.
Starting to finally make some connections, I went back to my thoughts earlier. He actually might have something to do with this. Maybe more than I realized.
Groaning, I turned over again, trying to get comfortable enough to fall asleep, but failed.
"Might as well get up now..." I sighed, kicking off the heavy blanket and swinging my legs over the side of my bed.
Looking at my alarm clock, I saw the time read 3:30 a.m. Lovely.
Rubbing my hands over my face with exhaustion, I used my magic to change me into my training gear.
Whenever I was overwhelmed or frustrated with something, or someone, I would train. It helped me keep my skills sharp, but it was also a nice way to let out pent-up aggression and stuff that makes me want to murder certain people from time to time. Mostly my dad.
And can you blame me?!
The man just created an AI that wants to take over the world! And kill us!
Now, imagine having to put up with stuff like that for twenty-two years.
It's no wonder I'm always so tired and run down.
Seconds after getting into my workout outfit, I teleported down to the training room for what I like to call Punching Bag Therapy.
~~~Loki's pov~~~
I couldn't sleep. I tried everything, and yet I still could not fall asleep.
That cursed feeling in my chest was keeping me awake. That feeling I had no words to describe.
That feeling I only found tolerable around one person. Catherine.
Catherine, who not only works in the Tower, but is also Stark's daughter! And she has abilities!
In my opinion, that revelation was much more important than a few robots attacking us, but to each their own.
I sighed. If I can't sleep, there's no reason for me to be lying in bed doing nothing. I need to find something to do.
That's when I had an idea. The training room! I could go there, and hopefully, the training itself will be so much that this feeling in my chest goes away. For good.
Using my magic, I changed into my battle armor and teleported to the training room, expecting it to be empty.
Imagine my surprise when I found Catherine already there and seemingly decimating a punching bag with her magic.
~~~Catherine's pov~~~
I had been in the training room for a good twenty minutes when that feeling in my chest came back. It came back so strong and so out of nowhere that I stumbled back from the punching bag, clutching my chest in pain.
"Are you okay?" I heard a familiar voice ask from the other side of the room.
I quickly turned my head and saw Loki standing by the entrance to the training room.
Okay, I'm pretty sure this proves my theory that he might have something to do with this feeling.
"Yeah, I'm fine." I put up a smile despite the pain in my chest.
It's not really a pain, though. It's more like there's this pressure in my chest, making it hard to concentrate on anything other than breathing.
"But what are you doing down here? It's like, four in the morning." I questioned, trying to ignore the feeling long enough to have an actual conversation with him.
"Couldn't sleep." He shrugged, walking closer to me. "What about you?"
I turned and returned to the punching bag as I answered. "Just trying to process the fact that there is an AI on the loose that plans to kill the masses, and my father is responsible for it. For God's sake, this punching bag is a better listener than he is!" With the last sentence, I sent a large ball of magic to the training tool, and it, well, it incinerated. Yikes. "That should pretty much sum up my thoughts right now."
"Any interest in an actual sparring partner and not an inanimate object you want to beat mercilessly?" He offered.
Sparring? With Loki?
Looks like my night just took a turn for the better.
And even though I was beaming on the inside, I made sure my answer was calm and casual.
"Sure. At least you make for good conversation." I gave him a small smile, and moments later, we started to spar.
"We didn't really get a chance to talk after the whole robot attack thing. I'm assuming you have some questions?" I asked, throwing up my hands to block a punch.
"Just a few." He smirked as he kicked my legs out from under me. "So, Stark's daughter?"
"Yep." I nodded, jumping back up just in time to block another punch.
"And you have magic as well. Were you born with it, or-"
"I didn't develop it over time if that's what you were going to say. No, I was born with it. Got it from my mother. Or at least, I think so. I know I didn't get it from my dad, so I just assume that it's from my mom." I took the opportunity to demonstrate said magic, making my eyes glow black and my hands surrounded with black mist.
"And your mother?" He asked, his voice softer this time.
I was slightly taken aback by the softness of his voice. Then I remembered that he and Thor had lost their own mother just a few years ago.
"She died when I was born. My dad wasn't even aware that she was pregnant. They were a one-night fling, and she never told him about me. He only found out once the hospital had called him and told him that I was born and my mother had died. He either had to accept his role as my father or put me up for adoption. And I think it's clear what he ended up doing-" I was cut off when the feeling in my chest surged again, and this time the pressure was so intense that I doubled over, out of breath.
"You feel it too?" Over everything else, I could hear Loki's voice as I regained my composure.
"Yeah, it hurts like hell." I groaned quietly, standing straight up again, now looking at the god face on. "How did you-"
"I've been feeling it as well. Ever since that day we ran into each other on the street. You?"
I was surprised but managed a nod. "And it's like there's this overwhelming pressure in your chest?"
"Exactly." He nodded, his eyes wide.
"Okay." I lifted my arms up in confusion. "Any ideas on what it is and how to get rid of it?"
"Not one." He shook his head, eyes trained on mine. Damn, his stare is intense. "I've been researching it for days now. So far, I've come up with close to nothing."
"Well, that's just great!" I ran my fingers through my hair, exasperated.
We talked for a few more minutes, attempting to understand the strange feeling, but to no avail. In the end, we decided to try to head to bed.
I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy our time together, though.
The next morning, after I had finally managed to get some sleep, I volunteered to help out Steve and Maria, who were trying to track Ultron.
"He's all over the globe. Robotics labs, weapons facilities, jet propulsion labs. Reports of a metal man, or men, coming in and emptying the place." Maria informed us as we climbed the glass-shatter-covered stairs.
"Fatalities?" I raised a brow as I stepped over the glass carefully.
"Only when engaged. Mostly guys left in a fugue state going on about old memories, worst fears, and something too fast to see."
"The Maximoffs?" I looked at Steve imploringly.
"Well, it makes sense he'd go to them." He agreed. "They have someone in common."
Right, Strucker.
But Maria killed that theory when she showed us her tablet. "Not anymore."
It showed a picture of Strucker dead in his cell. The word 'peace' was spelled out in blood above him on the stone wall.
That's not insanely creepy at all. Nope.
As we continued to the lab where the rest of the team was, we passed a hallway and saw Clint there, on the phone with someone.
"Clint, we might have something," I called over to him, and he nodded, shutting off his phone.
"Who was that?" Steve asked as he joined us.
He shrugged. "Girlfriend."
Pfffft. Vent Spy has a girlfriend? Yeah, I'm not buying that, but okay.
We walked into the lab and gave the new information to the rest of the team.
"What's this?" Dad asked, gesturing to the tablet.
"A message. Ultron killed Strucker." I answered.
"And he did a Bansky and the crime scene, just for us." He said sarcastically, now holding the tablet in his hands.
"This is a smoke screen," Natasha said from beside us. "Why send a message when you've just given a speech?"
"Strucker knew something that Ultron wanted us to miss." Steve guessed.
"Yeah, I bet he did," I said, sitting at the computer and looking at Strucker's file. Or really, what used to be Strucker's file. "Everything we had on Strucker has been erased."
"Not everything." Steve sighed.
And with that, we had to resort to the most headache-inducing method known to man.
Looking through boxes upon boxes of paperwork.
"Known associates. Strucker had a lot of friends." Loki said, resting a box of files on the table in front of Bruce and me.
As he set the box down, our eyes met, and we stayed staring at each other until I finally managed to look away.
Hey, it's not like I wanted to, okay? But if anyone else sees us staring at one another, there will be questions! Questions I'm not willing to answer!
"Well, all these people seem horrible," I concluded after skimming through a file I picked up in an attempt to stop looking at the god in front of me.
I was about to put the file back, but Dad stopped me. "Wait. I know that guy."
I handed him the file, perplexed. "How?"
"From back in the day. He operates off the African coast. Black market arms."
Steve gave him a look, and Dad rolled his eyes. "There are conventions. All right? You meet people. I didn't sell him anything. He was talking about finding something new, a game-changer. It was all very Ahab."
Thor finally got a good look at a picture of Klau. "This?" He pointed to something that looked like a brand on the side of his neck.
"Ah, it's a tattoo. I don't think he had it," Dad answered.
I shook my head. "No. Those are tattoos. This is a brand."
Bruce got right on it and looked up the image. "Oh, yeah. It's a word in an African dialect meaning 'thief' in a much less friendly way."
"What dialect?"
"Wakanada. Wa-wa-Wakanda." He stammered, trying to pronounce the name right.
Dad and Steve shared a look. "If this guy got out of Wakanda with some of their trade goods..." Dad left the sentence unfinished.
"I thought Grandpa said he got the last of it?" I said, confused.
"I don't follow. What comes out of Wakanda?" Bruce asked, getting up from his chair and walking over to us.
"The strongest metal on Earth," I said, looking at Steve's shield.
"Where is this guy now?" The shield's owner asked.
"A salvage yard on the African Coast. We need to hurry if we want to get to him first. If we know about Klau, so does Ultron." I said, looking at Dad.
"She's right. Let's suit up and get out of here."
It's a nice feeling when your opinion is valued.