Wow. I am touched that you guys stuck with this story enough to pester me for seven months when I considered dropping it. That's commitment. You all rock, each and every one of you. I should let you know that I've decided to continue this story, mostly just because of the amazing feedback I've had-it was getting rough there for a while, but I'm going to try to stick with it and keep posting, however irregularly.

Love you all. You're amazing.

"So you thought you keep this up

All the work that you do

So we think that you're good

And you can't believe it's not enough

All the walls you built up

Are just glass on the outside…"

.

Tenth Avenue North,

Healing Begins.

She danced with him until she ran out of conversation topics. One could only bring up sea bass so many times. She found out a lot about his work: Richard was a scientist, like her, but had chosen a far different field to apply his physics degree. He was a professor at the same university Darcy went to; go figure, with Darcy's new change of major she'd recently enrolled in one of his classes as a requirement.

"Most people think teaching is boring, but I love it. I get all the mix: the sassy college students, the ambitious ones, the ones who just don't care, and a couple quiet bright ones like you. It's fun to see how big of an impact I can make on their careers—in the good way, I mean. Not like some of my colleagues. They'll teach the latest trend like it's fact and then spit on it halfway through the semester. No commitment to real learning."

"That sounds cool."

In reality, Jane was getting a little bored. The easy sway of the music had made her feet go numb, this monotonous pacing back and forth to the beat. Didn't Richard know any other steps? Walking back and forth in each other's arms, running out of things to say, made her heart beat at an uncomfortable pace.

It wasn't like this with Thor, she found herself thinking.

She forced her thoughts away, just in time to realize he'd stopped talking. Those blue eyes held her face with a sheepish smile.

"I'm putting you to sleep," he said.

"Huh? Oh no, not at all! I like hearing about physics."

"I was talking about my rival's teaching methods, actually."

He laughed when she blushed. Then he twirled her gently around and let go of her hand. When Jane turned around again, she hit a barrier. Her hands automatically closed around the new ones that steadied her. Too late, she looked up.

Loki smirked from his place between Jane and Richard.

"Mind if I cut in?"

Her date, ever the gentlemen, gave the intruder a gracious half-smile.

"I don't generally let tall British guys steal my dates."

Loki returned with an easy laugh, as if there were no tension in the air at all. "Mister Richard, I think you'll find that your telephone device—which you left on the table—won't stop ringing."

Richard's gaze flickered to Jane. She widened her eyes at him in a universal SOS. He hesitated.

"They've probably called four times," Loki added.

"Hang tight a minute," Richard said, brushing past Jane and dropping a quick kiss to her cheek. "Sorry. It's probably work calling if it's that urgent. I'll be right back. Have fun with Luke."

"I don't think that's—"

Loki spun her around at the same time that the music changed. A deeper, faster beat pulsed through the room. A few of the other dancers cheered and picked up the pace.

"What are you doing?" Jane demanded.

"Dancing. You should try it sometime."

"I was. With Richard."

"You call that dancing?" Those grinning silver eyes turned a hundred different colors under the dancing lights. He suddenly leaned forward, lips skimming the top of her ear as the sound began to build around them. "Allow me, my lady, to show you what real dancing is."

Before Jane could protest, he pulled her into the rhythm.

She'd never been good at dancing. But with Loki leading, all the ancient formal grace of an Asgardian prince on his side, a foreign thrill travelled from him into her bones. A newfound yearning for elegance; that craving of movement, of synchrony.

And so, Jane moved.

She let him guide her into motions she'd never known before, following the cadence of his feet, the gentle pressure of his hands. Who'd have guessed the destroyer of New York could be gentle? The man who lashed at her with words when she unveiled the slightest weakness? The self-disowned brother. The wounded animal who snarled at all who came close.

She waited for him to taunt her. She tripped once, falling with her hands shot out straight to his chest, then froze like a man waiting for the guillotine. But he only helped her back to her feet, continuing on without a word. For the second time in one night, Jane had an uncomfortable surprise.

What if Loki had just come out here to dance?

She could handle mocking Loki. She could hadn't sullen Loki. Heck, she could handle mean and nasty, chokehold-happy Loki.

Keeping her eyes on his face, she realized to her horror that a faint smile graced his lips. And it wasn't a sneer or a smirk. He appeared to be actually enjoying himself.

She didn't know what to do with this kind of Loki.

"What are you staring at?"

"You," she blurted out.

His eyebrow lifted, and she felt her face catch flame.

"What is this?"

"What's what?"

"This! Twirling me around like I'm not someone you hate, this lack of outright nastiness. All this gentlemanly… stuff."

"I believe I said it was called dancing."

He chuckled, and spun her around before she could retort.

"Not so gentlemanly crashing my date," Jane snapped when she was back in his arms.

"Unfortunately for us both, I had no choice in the matter."

"What do you mean?"

"You do realize you're more than twelve miles away from your apartment. Seems you tried to put all of Manhattan between us."

"You walked twelve miles to get here?"

"Was dragged, twelve miles, would be a more accurate description."

Jane tightened her hands on his in frustration. He merely smiled down at her and looped them around his neck. She hung a little extra weight on them, just to annoy. He didn't even notice.

"What did you do to Richard's phone?"

"Nothing."

"I don't believe you."

"I told you my magic is bound. Besides, hexes and charms don't work on such rudimentary contraptions."

"Rudimentary? Darcy had to teach you how to find speed dial."

"The point is I didn't trifle with the phone," Loki snapped over the music.

"Hey," interjected a woman next to them. "You guys are ruining it for the rest of us. This is supposed to be a romantic song."

"Yeah. Quit arguing," agreed her partner. "Make up and make out already."

Loki didn't miss a beat. With a winning smile and a mumbled apology, he twirled a mortified Jane away from the pair. Once a healthy distance away, he paused with a indefinable expression on his face. As if waiting for something.

She glanced back at the couple. The man and woman had crescendoed to some strange exaggerated waltz only they knew. He was just pulling her out of a dip when suddenly, with an ugly shriek, the woman slipped and carried him down with her. Everyone around them jumped in surprise, turning around to see the spectacle. Jane got a glimpse of flailing limbs and upended spiked high-heels through the gathering circle of feet.

The woman's huge curly hair had pinned itself to her husband's tuxedo.

The crowd converged around them, and Jane whirled on her own dance partner.

"What was that?" she cried.

Loki's mouth twitched. "I may have brushed his shoulder on the way out."

"I thought you said Thor took your magic!"

His eyes gleamed. "He couldn't well have erased all of my tricks, now could he?"

"How did you—"

Two long fingers found her lips. "Hush. Even Midgardian magicians never reveal their secrets."

She pushed him away. Fighting valiantly to forget the image of Rude Mr. and Mrs. Stiletto tumbling like a pair of dominoes.

"That wasn't funny."

"Of course," Loki said, straight-faced. "Something else must have put that brightness in your eyes."

She hid her smile behind her hair. "I'm not laughing."

Loki caught the curls with a free hand, tucking them back behind her ear. Smooth fingers lingered on the curve of her jaw.

"It's nice," he said softly.

Jane looked up at him. He was smiling the same, startlingly genuine smile.

"You're very two-faced," she suddenly said. "Do you realize that?"

The smile faded into his more trademark smirk.

"Hopefully I'm more than that," he remarked. "Only two faces would put my reputation to shame. I've built up quite a mythology."

"Why?"

He frowned. "Why what?"

"Why do you do that? Surround yourself with faces. The trickster. The brother. The monster. The hero, even. What are you?"

"I have never been a hero."

"You saved me from a bomb. On Svartalheim, remember?"

Beneath her hands, the tendons of his shoulders began to stiffen.

"Must've slipped my mind," he said easily.

"Hm. And getting staked through the ribs to save your brother?"

"That was an illusion."

"Was it? You still saved his life."

"This sudden curiosity," Loki breathed, leaning forward until their faces were just a breath apart. "Always the little scientist. Do you have a theory, Jane Foster?"

She held her ground, refusing to shrink back. It was the first time he'd used her name, her real one, without mockery or guise.

"Have you, little mortal star chaser, discovered the great mystery behind Laufeyson's many faces?"

Silver eyes ticked between hers, unwavering. Their feet slowed, forgoing the beat of the music, and Jane's heart quickened. He seemed to be truly waiting for an answer.

"Thor had one face," she said. "He's Asgard's golden boy. I thought I loved him for it, but… with that single shining face, he won't be mine. But you… From what I've heard, you started donning faces a long time ago. You're not Asgard's. But you're not anything else. Not completely. It's like looking into a hundred mirrors all reflecting different directions. A thousand faces, and none of them yours."

She waited for him to smirk, to taunt her as he drew nearer, but his eyes held hers with an unexpected intensity.

"And?"

"I think you do it so nobody will see your real one," she blurted out.

A near imperceptible change touched his brow. The motion of their feet ceased completely, and they went still in the middle of the dance floor. Jane didn't look away from his incisive gaze. He stared into her, eyes like razors, searching for something behind her hazel ones. She had the sudden, frightening thrill of standing on the edge of a precipice.

"Interesting," he murmured, voice almost snatched away in the building music. Jane couldn't tell if he was responding, or remarking on something he didn't intend for her to hear. He drew back, just slightly. Jane was seized with an irrepressible urge to follow him.

"Loki," she whispered, without thinking. His eyes flickered back to her. Something real and unguarded flickered there, behind the cool ivory mask. Something almost like a lost little boy—seen for the first time.

Before she could open her mouth again, his gaze snapped up to fix somewhere over her head. The tension in his shoulders slipped away, retreating to somewhere deeper and hidden.

"Your shining knight returns for you," he said, in a clearer voice.

At the same moment, Jane heard Richard calling out an apology behind her, approaching through the crowd.

"Until next dance, my lady," said Loki, unlacing her hands and pressing a kiss to the back of one of them. She blinked at his smile. It looked so empty. So very much like a mask.

How had she never noticed before?

Loki disappeared into the crowd before Richard reached them. Jane barely heard her date as he rattled off an explanation of his dilemma at work, apologizing again for getting called away. It wasn't until she found herself in the passenger seat of his Corolla, listening to him worry aloud about this new school board quandary, that she realized she hadn't said a word.