One time, Loki says to him, "Next time you bring back supplies for the scientists, bring back someone who reminds you of Natasha." After their little conversation about Black Widow, after listening to him talk about her, Loki feels entitled to use the first name. Clint doesn't know how he feels about that. He doesn't know what he feels about bringing back someone for Loki to -- indulge his curiosity about human anatomy with. Loki figured out what he wanted to about male anatomy, apparently and has moved on, and Clint is, well, not glad about that, but just sort of tired. What does Clint know about his feelings these days anyways?
So he goes up with some of the logistics staff and brings back food, water, shipments of parts from the Mandarin. Enough diesel to keep the place running for another week without tapping into reserves, and a girl. She comes back in the same container, tucked in among the vegetables and pallets of Gatorade.
"Is she dead?" Loki says, when Clint puts her down on the ground in front of the chair that Loki is using as his de facto throne room.
"I drugged her," Clint says and looks down at the girl, then back over at Loki. Would Loki still fuck her if she were dead? Clint considers this question, and since Loki didn't give explicit commands about disgust, Clint decides that he feels disgust. Also, that the answer as to whether Loki would fuck the girl out of curiosity even if she were dead is, almost certainly, yes.
The girl is starting to come out of it. Her hands are ziptied in front of her, because Clint knows the rules about blood clots and cuffing someone's hands behind them if they're unconscious. She winces; her eyes flutter. She tries to sit up, Clint makes himself breathe in. Breath out. Out of the corner of he sees Loki takes two steps down from the throne.
"She doesn't look like Natasha," Loki says.
Something still feels odd in Clint's chest when Loki talks as though he's met Natasha, but Clint can't argue with that statement. It's true. The woman is much bigger than Natasha. Broader in the shoulders, taller by at least a head. Her hair is definitely brown, without any reddish tint to it, and she's wearing a dress that Natasha would never wear. It has no pockets; it has a fiddly tie around the waist. It's a floaty, spring sort of number in pale yellow.
Still, though. She had walked by, and something in the angle of her shoulders and the way she held herself reminded Clint of her.
"You said to get someone who reminded me of Agent Romanoff," Clint says, and Loki looks over at him, considering.
There is a long moment of silence. The girl has struggled to a sitting position now and is looking from Loki to Clint and back again. Her face doesn't quite have an expression yet because with this drug, core muscle control returns first. Then, major muscles. Then, hands. Then, the face. Then, the vocal chords. It's engineered that way. Clint watches her struggle to get her legs under control, and he knows Loki is watching him watch her.
"Say Natasha," Loki says, after that moment is over.
"Say the whole sentence."
Clint looks up and away from the woman, then over at Loki. "You said to get someone who reminded me of Natasha," he says, and he knows his voice sounds strange.
The girl is trying to get her legs under her to run. The floor is smooth; she lost one shoe in the transport down. Clint has his bow still in hand, his quiver on his back, and Loki smiles and goes back up the throne. He sits down, makes himself comfortable. He settles the spear across his knees.
Loki looks at Clint. Clint looks back at Loki.
The girl manages to get one leg underneath her, but the other goes, and she falls forward with a thud. It was an awkward fall; Clint guesses she probably twisted her ankle, and she has facial control back, judging from the expression on her face. She has started to get vocal function back, too. Not enough for words, but enough for small, terrified noises.
"Fuck her on the floor," Loki says to Clint. "I'll have a turn, and then show me how you'd kill Natasha."
Clint tears his eyes away from the girl and goes back to looking at Loki. Clint is fighting with himself in every way he knows how, but then Loki smiles and curls his fingers around the spear.
"I could make her want it," he says, conversationally. "If that's your problem."
Clint turns back to the girl and puts his bow down on the floor.