Chapter 4: But our Princess is in Another Castle!

When Hermione woke the first thing she noticed was the Hogwarts-castle-slash-roller-coaster had disappeared, replaced with a note that read she'd see it again soon. The next thing she noticed were her bags, packed beside her, and a fresh outfit laid out upon her visitor chair. Thirdly was the handsome, dark-haired Norse god sitting sideways in the chair, her clothes folded in his lap as he tapped her brassiere with a finger every so often, changing the colour or material before settling on a lovely black lace confection that had no business revealing itself to all and sundry in a hospital recovery ward.

"Unhand my unmentionables," she mumbled, shifting and gingerly sitting up.

"Once I can get them to match," he replied, his tone bored. Yet his brow was furrowed and he kept staring at the bra, eyes hazy. Unbeknownst to him, his lips parted just a little bit, and his breathing panted the barest bit more heavily.

Hermione reached for her wand with deliberate movements.

"This'll have to do," he sighed, setting the neatly folded pile on the edge of her bed.

"You've been busy," she said, looking over her bags.

"You're to be cleared today. You can recover at home."

"Recover, yes," she said, giving him a pointed look he ignored.

"I can be very helpful."

"Keep your clones to yourself. If I catch any of them near my undergarments I'll bury you in concrete and sink you in the Channel."

"I was merely going to offer my services as a personal support worker."

"You don't know what a PSW is."

"Yes, I do." He held up a certificate. "I have a certificate."

Summoning the paper to her, she glanced at it.

"This says you disemboweled a CPR dummy."

"Under duress. It looked at me funny."

"And then burned its corpse inside a gibbet, proclaiming it a warning to all that piracy wasn't tolerated in Switzerland."

"Bellatrix dared me, that time."

Hermione's jaw hardened.

Without another word she incinerated the certificate.

"You may go."

She collected her clothes and shuffled to the bathroom, closing the door with a click.

"Granger?" he called. He glanced over at the bathroom door, but no sound escaped.

"Hermione?"

Brow furrowed, he twisted in his seat to stand. He crossed the room and lifted his hand, knocking on the bathroom door.

"Hermione?"

There was no answer.

He knocked harder, calling her name with more force—certainly not concern—until he heard a tell-tale crack.

Spinning on his heel he saw that her bags behind him had disappeared.

She was gone.

Hermione huffed and glared into her teacup.

Across from her Nick Fury leaned over his knees, contemplating the situation.

"I don't disagree. I think it is a worthwhile course of action. "

Hermione's shoulders tightened.

"But," she prodded.

"Not to question your decision but is this really what you want, Miss Granger? And how you want it?"

"Absolutely."

Nick nodded once and stood. Hermione shook his hand, her grip firm.

"Let us know what you need."

"Sir." She nodded.

"Miss Granger? " He turned to give her a long measuring look.

Pressing her lips together so tightly they paled, she met his gaze.

"Thank you for your contributions to the Avengers. You're a remarkable soldier, and we're pleased and honoured to have worked with you."

"One last mission," she said, forcing strength into her voice.

"Only if you want it to be," said Fury, giving her a final nod as he let himself out.

Sinking back into her couch, Hermione's normally well-ordered mind fell apart as she struggled to determine what it was she wanted, logically, as opposed to what she needed, emotionally. The conflict had been driving her mad for the last year, and hit a personal low that morning in the hospital.

Exhausted, she gingerly lay down and pulled a blanket down overtop of herself.

Jane swallowed a grimace as she opened her apartment door to the last person she expected to see there. Ever.

She pasted on a smile. "Hi… Loki. What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

"There are no woods here. This is a city," he said, his piercing ocean eyes scanning the interior quickly and efficiently. "My brother isn't here?"

"No. He's out. Something about visiting a pet store and finding a new steed. If you want, I can scream real loud and I'm sure he'll burst through the window. Or wall. Or something?"

He waved his hand dismissively before stepping through the door and inviting himself in.

Nodding to herself and rolling her eyes to the ceiling in prayer that her apartment survive this visit intact, please, because she'd only just gotten her security deposit back and she really, really needed it for her research. Jane closed the door and followed Loki in. "Tea? Coffee? I may have some soda in the pantry."

He shook his head. Spreading his flapping coat around behind him he sat down on her worn couch, the springs creaking and poking at him. His brow quirked. He set aside his staff and patted the lumpy cushions curiously.

"You no longer live in the transient bus."

Her smile tightened before she forced an exhale out between her teeth. "Mobile home and research station," she bit out. "No. It was confiscated. In its entirety. Remember New Mexico?" Smile. Smile, damnit. Her cheeks hurt. "I'm here on a research team with the… well, one of the universities," she explained, taking a seat across from him. But still close to the door. Just sayin'.

His eyes flickered around again, settling on the decorative mantle littered with photographs. His focus absorbed, Jane observed him a moment longer. His eyes were reddened, his face drawn, his shoulders tight, especially for him. His entire body faced the photographs… particularly the ones on the left.

No, one in particular, she realized.

Unsure if she could relax in his presence, but at least having a fair suspicion of why he was so duly focused, Jane eased herself back in her seat and curled her feet under her, getting comfortable. She reached for the glass of water she'd been drinking earlier, abandoned on the second-hand coffee table.

"H-how are you doing?" she asked, swallowing, her throat parched.

"I have questions," he said.

She nodded. "I'm good at figuring things out."

He flickered a glance at her. "Yes, I know."

Forcing her speeding heart rate to slow—he can smell fear. Relax. He's here for a reason. He needs you—Jane shifted a bit and rested her weight on the arm of the couch.

"What can I help you with?"

His jaw worked. He looked away, smiled viciously a moment, before he shook his head and licked his lips, staring at the floor.

"Is it true that Hermione is leaving the Avengers?"

Jackpot.

Knowing better than to shrug off a serious, direct inquiry from Loki, Jane fidgeted with the glass in her hands, lowering it to her lap.

"I'm not an official Avenger, so I only hear rumours," she said, giving him a half smile that quickly faded. Her shoulder drooped. "But yeah. I hear she and Fury had a chat when she was released, and he's putting feelers out to find someone to replace her. Her friend Snape's been contacted, along with one or two others. I'm not sure of all the details, though. Or the timeline. Just that…" She bit her tongue. Ooooh, she could get in trouble for this. Her brow furrowed and she took a gulp of water. Too fast. Her eyes watered as she tried to quietly choke it down.

"Just that what?" he asked, his voice velvet soft and smooth. Deadly quiet.

"Uhhhh….." Cursing herself a hundred times, Jane's slim fingers tightened on the glass. Loki looked at her from the corner of his eye, but she had his full attention. Fear shivered between her shoulder blades once more.

"I know she talks to you. About… matters," he said, still soft, but tight.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Jane exhaled slowly, swallowing, and nodded. Don't lie.

"She was upset. She has decided to focus on more stable career goals," said Jane, hedging around the elephant in the room. The very dangerous, bihorned, unpredictable elephant. On her couch.

"She had a fairly stable means of income," he disagreed. His long, nimble fingers flexed and stretched on his thighs.

"She said something about research, if that helps," added Jane. Keep it vague.

"No longer working in the field at all?" Loki turned to her in surprise.

Jane nodded.

"She loves field work," muttered Loki, staring at the floor once more.

Risking a small shrug, her shoulders remaining up around her ears—subconsciously protecting her neck—Jane tightened into a smaller ball. "She said she was looking for a change. That…" She bit her tongue. Damnit!

"That what?"

Ooooh, those were the scary eyes. Not hard, but focused entirely on her.

How Hermione had put up with those flinty orbs for so long, seemingly searching them out, Jane would never know. She must have had an insane death wish to have courted Loki's attentions so long.

"That. What." Loki's eyes bore into hers, and Jane swallowed, her fingers digging into her jean-clad legs.

Pressing herself into the back of her seat, Jane shrank further as Loki loomed forward.

"She," Jane's voice wavered. "She said that things were too…"

Loki's feet shifted, and his grip tightened on his staff as he reached his body forward, preparing to stand.

"—personal. She said things at work were too personal and she needed a change."

Trembling now, panting as quietly as she could as she desperately sought oxygen, Jane watched Loki slowly rise and falter mid-way at her words.

But Loki's eyes were focused on something behind her, something distant. There was nothing behind her but a blank wall. Oh.

After a moment he straightened, set his shoulders, and clutched his staff closer.

"I see."

He took a step and Jane swallowed a whimper.

Noticing her seemingly for the first time, Loki slowed and looked down at her properly.

"I am not here to hurt you, Jane," he said.

"G-glad to hear it," she said, higher pitched than she'd intended.

He gave her a quirk of a smile. An honest one.

He shook his head as the faint curl of his lips faded. Probably wondering what his brother had been thinking when he took up with such a weak Asgardian, she mused.

"Did she say anything else?" he asked, his voice gentle.

Peeking up at him again, Jane bit her lip. "Um, she… she mentioned something that you said. About Bellatrix."

Loki's pupils narrowed.

"I'm… I'm not sure if you know the history between Bellatrix and Hermione?"

"Explain," he ordered.

Jane swallowed, poking her head up a bit. "Well, during the Second Wizarding War, Hermione got a few over on Bellatrix. Hermione was a teenager at that point, and with Bellatrix being a cunning psycho murderess, she didn't take well to being one-upped by a kid, and a… what's that word they use?"

"Muggle-born," said Loki.

Her brow furrowed. "Sort of." She tilted her head. "I thought it was slightly different, though. They had a bad name for it—"

"Muggle. Born." Stated Loki, his voice harsh.

Jane nodded quickly. "Yes. Anyway, I'm not sure if you've ever noticed Hermione's arms? And her throat?"

Covered. She was always covered, he realized.

"Bellatrix kind of… tortured Hermione. Pretty badly. Other Death Eaters took shots at her, and she has those scars, from battles," Jane said, and a faint note of pride entered her voice. "She actually isn't too self-conscious about those. Something about badges of honour. But the torture scars she's a bit sensitive about. And Bellatrix. I know she's supposedly dead now, but for a while in the craziness after the war when you showed up on the scene and she was helping round up rogue Death Eaters, I know she and Bellatrix had a bit of a mortal hatred for each other."

"Hermione doesn't hate."

Jane looked into Loki's eyes, and held them. "She hated Bellatrix."

Loki eventually straightened again, and Jane's back and shoulders relaxed, her legs stretching minutely.

"I see."

Unsure if she could get up yet, she waited Loki out, watching him.

"Thank you, Jane."

"You're welcome. Anytime," she said, praying the interlude was nearly over.

His eyes flicked back to hers a moment, that hint of a smile surfacing for a moment before disappearing once again.

"Tell my brother I said 'Hello'," he said, striding to the door.

"Absolutely. You uh, have a great afternoon," she called lifting her glass to him with a hand that only trembled slightly she was proud to note.

He nodded and left.

Her head falling back against the couch once more, Jane let out a long breath.

"I'm alive. I'm alive."

She giggled a bit to herself, hysteria passing quickly. "Whoooo…."

Deciding she could use a walk, she stood—and sighed.

"Of course I spilled my water all over my pants and look like I wet myself," she muttered, her hand patting uselessly at her sodden jeans. She hadn't even noticed at the time, she'd been so terrified.

"My Jane! Are you alright?" Thor appeared from the balcony in a crack, and took in her dishevelled appearance. "You… you need a personal moment, I think," he said, looking elsewhere as gentlemanly as he could.

"Your brother came to visit. He says 'Hi'," sighed Jane, heading down the hall to her room.

"Ah. Yes, that would definitely explain it. Don't worry, it happens to many! It's a natural reaction!" He called after her.

"Argh!" she couldn't help but exclaim in disgust.

Severus ignored the tap on his laboratory door.

"I know you're in there," said a somewhat familiar voice.

He ignored it some more, until the visitor kicked down the ironwood doors.

With a soft breath from his patrician nose, he continued working. "You're replacing that."

"Bill it to Fury," said Natasha, striding closer. "Is it true?" She demanded.

"Many things are true, in one form or another. I suspect you're referring to a rumour of some sort."

She planted her hands on her hips, widening her stance. "Hermione. Is it true she's leaving the Avengers and coming to work for you?"

"The offer has been extended for some time. There was no end date by which Miss Granger had to accept."

"But she's really quitting the field?"

Severus continued stirring.

"Does this have to do with Loki?"

Stir, stir, stir.

"Is she avoiding him? Afraid of him? Or afraid of herself?"

"Careful, Miss Romanov," he warned, his voice velvet and smooth. "That is my former student you speak of, and she is a Gryffindor and a well-regarded war heroine. Few have ever demonstrated the bravery and courage of her house, Gryffindor, more than she. She has never given up on anything."

Stir, stir, stir.

"Or anyone," he added, glancing at her through the curtain of raven hair that swung forward to hide his expression from her.

"Quitting certainly sounds like running away."

"To you, perhaps. Sometimes it is a way of getting a different perspective. Or looking at a problem from another vantage point. From atop a different hill, for example," he said meaningfully.

"She's not just a colleague, Severus," admitted Natasha, shifting her feet. "It isn't like her to walk away from something."

He nodded.

"You know more than you're letting on, don't you." Her eyes narrowed at him.

"Faith, Miss Romanov. Hermione has had hers broken and is reevaluating some of her priorities and values. She has a plan, she will stick to it. How she chooses to carry it out is up to her."

"You're not worried about her?"

His hand faltered in its stirring for a split-second; if she hadn't been watching him so carefully she never would have caught it. But she did. She seized on it and stepped forward.

He put a hand up to stay her.

"I believe she will overcome whatever is challenging her," he said. "Do you require anything else?"

"Got anything in here that'll neutre a Jotunheim god?"

Severus chuckled.

Bruce Banner lifted his tankard as Severus joined him at the tavern.

"You look like you had as great a day as I did," said Bruce, lifting a finger to get the bartender's eye.

"The women are rising," drawled Severus, nodding at the bartender as he accepted his pint.

"I heard. I had to put Pepper's number on redirect. She wanted me to come up with some kind of nuclear-powered penis-withering ray guns for her and Widow," said Bruce, shaking his head.

Severus snorted at that, behind his tankard.

"And Stark wouldn't supply her?"

"Probably worried she'd turn them on him at some point," laughed Bruce, and Severus's lips twitched.

"I hear Stark and Loki are bros now. Something about a Lego Master Builders Club Team or something. Pepper was pretty worked up and… uh… really worked up."

Severus nodded. "Natasha asked for something along the same lines earlier."

Bruce winced, and adjusted himself in his seat, his legs drawing closer together.

"So, do we get involved?" asked Bruce, reaching for some peanuts from the basket the waitress had placed in front of them.

"Has Miss Granger been in contact with you?"

"No."

"Loki?"

"No."

Severus shook his head, and lifted his brew to his thin lips. "Then you do not get involved."

"Have either of them been in contact with you?"

His shoulders drooping, Severus nodded and swallowed. "Yes."

Bruce reached over and patted him on his broad, black-cloaked back.

"Good luck with that."

Severus snorted.

"You're sure this," Hermione pointed, "Is our sticking point?"

Jane bit her bottom lip as she looked over her notes, then back at the plans. "So far, yes. I'm still looking into it, though."

Hermione nodded. "I had wondered about it, too. It's nice to bounce ideas off someone who has more than half a brain."

Jane grinned at her. "That's why I get paid the big bucks. Or, well, apply for grants for them. So many grants…"

Hermione smiled back at her. "Let me know who you're sending them to."

Jane's eyes widened. "Oh, I couldn't—it wouldn't be ethical—"

Hermione snorted softly. "You aren't building a super-weapon. And I worked hard to get where I am today. More people than you realize want to help, they just don't know how. Money, for this, shouldn't be a concern."

Tears nearly filled Jane's eyes. "But it can't be a habit. This is a special project."

Hermione's smile dipped, her face sagging as she nodded. "It is."

Jane bit her lip. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"Think nothing of it," said Hermione, smiling tightly. "Now, I think we should go rescue Maria from Pepper and Natasha. They're designing Charlie's Angels' styled uniforms over there and we need to stop them pre-planning alibis."

"I'm telling you, we can totally fit in some spinal armour in the back and maintain the flexibility!"

"We need it to stay light and malleable!"

"Leather and kevlar are! We just need to… run around in them a bit to make sure they're properly form-fitted, first!"

"Carbon for the spinal protection," said Maria, dark brows furrowed as she reviewed the patterns—or highly technical blueprints, going by the schematics assigned each piece—she held. "Individual plates, with interlocking teeth; it'll give us the flexibility we want, and the protection we need."

"I told you she was an asset," said Pepper, sitting up primly and crossing one leg over the other. She took a healthy slug of wine from her glass, and then topped it up again.

"She still hasn't agreed to help." Natasha bent over the design in Maria's hands then frowned at the screen she was working on.

Maria's frustrated sigh was audible as she fell back against the couch, handing the design to Natasha once more. "I'm telling you, I'm not qualified to bring down Loki. Defend against him is one thing; Hermione's the only one I've ever seen successfully snare him and keep him for any length of time."

"Oh, she's the bait, don't worry," said Natasha, typing something into the laptop that sat on the table amid the three bottles of wine and twice as many glasses. "He's not getting away this time."

"Ladies, I'm touched you're so protective of me," said Hermione. Really, she was. It was just these were some of the most dangerous women on the planet—and possibly other realms—and they were treating this not-quite-heartbreak-dumping-thing as if it were a suicide-level vengeant mission. Which… Hmm….. "But I'm fine. I'm just leaving the field. I'm moving on. I'll still be around for girls nights." She looked at her glass of pumpkin juice. "Well, when I'm recovered. And when I'm visiting from the UK."

Maria, Pepper and Natasha paused in their planning to stare at her.

"You're moving back to the UK?" asked Jane. Her wide eyes met Hermione's, full of hurt.

Shrugging uncomfortably, Hermione nodded. "Severus has been planning to move back for a while, and he's been keeping a position open for me." She shrugged again, one-shouldered. "It makes sense. I'll still be around for consultation purposes." She smiled at them. "It's just… girls nights might need a bit of notice. And planning." She thought about it a second. "But on the positive side, I'll have access to elf-made wine again," she promised. "And you could all come visit me! We could all go sightseeing… and not be chasing criminals or destroying as much property. Director Fury might even agree to a group holiday, once this part is done."

"That is a bonus," said Jane weakly, her smile forced.

But there came the sound of tight leather creaking from the couch. "Severus is leaving?" asked Natasha, her voice clenched and low.

Oops…

Hermione bit her lips together and swallowed. "It's something that's been on the table for a while. No plans are set in stone." Yet.

Natasha whirled around to face Maria and Pepper. She pointed at another set of schematics. "This'll hold Earthly magical beings, not just Midgard and Jotunheim-ey ones, right?"

"Theoretically," said Pepper. "Jane?"

"Theoretically…" said Jane, her eyes flickering between Hermione and Natasha.

"Good." Natasha grabbed one of the wine glasses from the table and drained it before slamming it down on the tabletop. "Refill," she ordered, and Pepper obliged, cheerfully topping it off.

(A few hours later)

"I don't think we should be doing this tonight, per se," said Hermione.

"Whaddya mean?" Slurred Natasha, leaning against Pepper.

"Oh, call it feminine intuition," said Jane, rubbing her arms in the chilly night air.

"'Mione dussent b'lieve innat," pointed out Pepper, staggering slightly under Natasha's well-muscled frame. "Did anyone see where'd ahput m'wine?"

"You're holding it," deadpanned Maria, arms crossed.

"Oh. Ah! Yay!"

"C'mon, ladies. It's time to catch a Pokemon. I mean, Loki." Natasha lurched forward.

"Loki's a Pokemon?" asked Pepper, ankles wobbling in her heels.

"What's a Lokimon?"

"Oh dear," murmured Jane, and Maria nodded.

Hermione sighed and rubbed at her eyes.

"I'm calling you two a cab. You can sleep it off at Pepper's," said Hermione, reaching for her mobile.

"Yer not sleeping with Tony. He's mine," said Pepper, staring at Natasha with bleary eyes.

"You can keep'im," snorted Natasha. "I bet Sev'rus has a way bigger—"

"Lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalal!" burst out Jane, cheeks burning as she covered her ears.

"Thank you," sighed Hermione. "Hi, yes, I need two cabs at this address. Preferably sooner rather than later…"

Loki watched the scene half in amusement, half in horror.

"We love you, Hermione!"

"Thank you, Pepper," said Hermione, returning Pepper's sloppy hug and kiss on the cheek that nearly turned out a bit more intimate that either had intended.

"We'll pickle 'is 'nards for you," promised Natasha, deadly serious as she slurred her words and followed after a stumbling Pepper into the awaiting cab. "Gimme some of the wine b'fore y'finish it, you lush."

"Love you, too," said Hermione, giving the driver Pepper's address and waving them off.

"I'll call you in the morning," promised Jane as she entered the second cab.

Hermione gave her a one-armed hug. "Will do. Thanks for helping me keep them in line tonight," she said, turning to Maria. The dark-haired woman shook her head, her smile rueful. "It's been a while since we had a girls night this productive."

"Hopefully it takes them a day or two to recover. We aren't as young as we used to be," said Hermione, and laughed with Maria. Jane was already giving the second cab driver the two addresses (one for her, one for Maria), and the taxi pulled away with the woman waving to each other.

From Hermione's balcony, Loki retreated back inside the apartment to await the object of his...unusually patient, dedicated focus.

"I know you're in here."

From his spot on her couch, Loki looked over his shoulder as Hermione closed the door to her apartment behind her.

"What do you want?" she asked, approaching but finding a clear spot of wall to lean against instead of sitting. It kept her on her feet.

"How much wine did you all drink tonight?" he asked, somewhat awed and disgusted at the number of bottles scattered around the living room. "I thought you were recovering. Not reducing your liver to a scarred pickle."

"I didn't think you cared," she said, arms folded in front of her.

He twisted his body and his eyes searched hers out. "Would you like to sit? It is your home."

"What do you want?"

He shifted and stood, facing her.

"I came to see when you're returning to active duty. A week, wasn't it, the doctors said?"

"I'm not. I'm retiring. I've given Director Fury my notice. You'll have a new keeper, soon. Congratulations, I hope you work well together," she said. "Anything else?"

His voice flattened, stone-like. "That's not funny, Hermione." He bared his teeth.

"No, it isn't," she agreed.

"You will reconsider." He stood taller, shoulders rounding forward as he glared at her.

"Not likely," she said. "If you have no other business with me," she reached behind her and unlocked the door again, opening it wide. The invitation was clear.

With a swipe of his staff he slammed the door shut, and Hermione was pitched up against the wall. She stifled a grunt of pain as she hit, harder than she'd expected.

Her eyes closed instinctively from the pain, she missed the flash of emotion on Loki's face.

"To be clear we understand each other, I want you to leave," seethed Hermione. One arm wrapped around her aching middle, and she held herself up against the wall with the other. She prayed the stitches on her back and side had held. With a wince she let herself slide down the wall until she leaned against it from the floor in a pained crouch.

"No," he said, his jaw working hard.

She loosened her grip on the wall and summoned her wand, wordlessly.

"I am not chasing you. I am not working for the Avengers at the moment. And I did not invite you into my home. If you don't leave right now, I will consider this a personal attack on my person, and I will imprison you so you never see the light of day again." Her words were cold, even, and devoid of any of the usual teasing and warmth and dare he say affection she employed with him previously.

He took one step, then another, closing in on her even as she raised her wand at him.

He reached for her.

"Proteg—"

—and lifted her in his arms, curling her against his chest as he had only days before.

"Down. Now."

"You need to rest in bed if you're going to get better," he said.

"Get out."

"Did you eat anything nourishing tonight?"

Her fingers clenched on the wand and she jabbed it into the side of his throat.

He slowed, but kept moving to her room, gently setting her down on her bed and removing her slippers by hand. With a flick of his hand her covers turned back on her bed and he tilted his head away from the business end of her wand.

"I'm going to get you a cup of tea," he said.

He turned his back on her and walked back to the kitchen.

She heard the clack and chink of glasses being collected and deposited on the kitchen counter, and swallowed as her eyes filled. She forced the warmth back.

A few minutes later he rejoined her and sat on the edge of her bed, offering her a cup of tea made exactly as she liked it. She had already wiped her eyes clear again, but she knew they were red.

She immediately pulled a face upon her first sip. "Blech."

"It's decaf. It's better for you at night," he said, wincing as he took his own sip. "Possibly because it tastes so poor one cannot physically consume it."

She ignored him, staring at her cup instead.

He finished what he could of his tea, setting the porcelain cup on her nightstand and looking around her room.

"May I assume I'm the first man to enter the kingdom?" he asked, taking in the laundry basket, the piles of books on the low-profile bookcase, the writing desk against the far wall, beneath the windows.

She didn't answer.

His viridian gaze flickered over her, his face set as he looked away for a moment when she flinched. "Did… Are you hurt?"

She still withheld her words, and set her teacup beside his on the nightstand. It was a tight fit amongst the lamp, clock, mobile phone and books, but it was just enough room for them to balance uneasily.

They were a lot like the matching cups, she thought.

So similar, but unable to balance properly. Barely able to eek out enough space together anywhere, always threatening to tip each other right over the edge and smash on impact.

"Hermione, are you hurt?"

"Fine. I'm fine," she said, resting her hands on the coverlet. "You can go."

He folded his hands in his lap and looked at her through his fallen bangs. "I don't want to," he said quietly.

"You aren't wanted here."

She again missed his flicker of emotion. "Why not?" he asked, his voice stretched. He cleared his throat subtly. "We've always come back to battle again, no matter what our differences were."

"This time the difference is a bit too great," she said.

"No difference is too great for us," he said, a note of boastful pride colouring his words.

"It isn't about us. There is no us, Loki."

"There is. There's can't not be. No one else can be you, or be me. We're too far above everyone else, Hermione, can't you recognize that? Don't you see it? I recognize you as being worthy of me. And I'm the challenge you need. I'm the one you want." He leaned forward, his words soft, almost whispered along her skin.

"Not if you were with her," she said.

He slowed in his stalking, and noted how tightly her knuckles were knotted together.

"Bella," he said aloud, and Hermione's fingers went white with strain.

"I don't care about your past, Loki. I understand what it is like to be surrounded by people who don't understand you, who judge you, and who waste their every gift and potential. But I will not tolerate her having any bearing or influence or touch on any relationship I ever have. She has done enough to me in my past; I will not have her take any part in my future."

She lifted her eyes to his, finally, and wouldn't let him go.

"It was fun while it lasted, but it's over. I hope you find a new," she swallowed, "best nemesis."

"Just because you know about her now doesn't mean it changes who I am or what I was, then," said Loki, reaching out to grasp her fingers and separate each one, prying them apart.

"Just because you hate her doesn't mean you need to hate me," he said.

He slid their palms against each other.

"Just because you bear scars doesn't mean I find you any less beautiful," he continued.

He brought her hands to his lips, kissing each palm.

"I don't begrudge you your past. I don't begrudge you previous lovers. I don't begrudge you the fact you've always apprehended me when I've done my best to ensure I leave you in the dust. Every weakness you've overcome, every challenge you've met, every success you've had I've taken pride in, ever since we met, Hermione."

He placed her hands in her lap once more, and cupped her cheek. "You are the most perfect creature, to me.

"I can't change my past. And I won't. I don't ask you to be different from what you are."

His tone softened further, and he gently wrapped some of her wild hair around his fingers, enjoying the way it spun and bounced and sprung back in place in resistance.

"I don't want you tame, Hermione."

He leaned closer, his breath caressing her lips. "And you don't want me tame, either."

His lips ghosted over hers as she panted, trembling, in her efforts to resist him.

"Tell me what you want," he whispered against her ear, his warm breath ghosting across her cheek and throat, leaving fire in its wake.

"I don't want her to be part of you," she whispered.

"I can't change the past," he repeated.

"I know. I hate it," she said, clenching her eyes shut. "I can't reconcile the past with the now."

"You can't move forward if you can't look beyond the past. Trust me, I know," he said, voice somewhat humoured. "You're embarrassed because you didn't know and it took you off guard, is that it? And you don't like that it took you off-balance."

He put his arms around her, gently pulling her into his chest where she buried her face.

"I hate that she had you first," muttered Hermione into his shirt.

Against his will the chuckle burst from him, shaking Hermione with its strong vibration. She slapped him on the arm, flushing.

He pulled away from her—surprised by her strong grip as she hid her face.

Grinning madly he nuzzled her throat. "She didn't."

"Whuh?"

Hermione's overbright, red-rimmed eyes took in his wide grin, his pleased, high brows.

Holding her tightly, he shook his head. "Bella and I were never intimate, Hermione. We were business associates, if you want to look at it from that perspective. She was married. And batshit insane."

"Pot, I'd like to introduce you to kettle," she pointed out, cheeks still pink amidst her glare.

He laughed.

She pulled back further at that, and he sighed, holding her closer to him.

"Don't get embarrassed," he cajoled, running a hand down her back. Suddenly she felt a feather-light tingling in the wake of his touch, soothing her bruises. Healing magic. He truly had studied as a PSW or medic… for her.

"But if you're jealous, I'm happy to stir you up a bit and reap the benefits," he murmured into her hair, voice deep and low and already stirring something else deep inside her.

"I expect benefits, too," she said, turning her face into his throat and taking a tentative nibble at his throat. She squirmed in his arms when he couldn't quite stifle his groan.

"You'll have them," he promised, bending his neck to give her better access as his hands settled on her hips and pulled her closer, even as he pushed himself further up onto her bed. "As many as I can possibly give you every night. And morning. And afternoon." He groaned again as she made her way down to his pulse and sucked on it.

"We can work out a schedule," she breathed against his impossibly perfect skin.

"I expect spontaneous benefits every so often. And wake-up benefits with your beautiful, erudite, full lips."

"I expect to be rewarded for the benefits I provide," she said, her hands finally reaching up to push his mantle from his shoulders to pool on the floor. "Gods, you have more buttons than Severus," she complained, before tugging his shirt loose from his trousers.

"I have more than him in every department," he swore hoarsely. "Where am I not allowed to touch? Do you still have stitches?"

"Left side of my back, beneath my shoulder blade. And you're right. You definitely have a bigger ego." She undid his buckle and rose up on her knees to gain leverage over him. She shoved him back by his shoulders, and he fell back agreeably onto the bed his arms splayed out at his sides.

He smirked at her.

She rolled her eyes. "I walked right into that one, and no you don't need to fill in any blanks."

"No, I intend to fill—"

She gasped as he did as promised.

Her nails sunk deep into the skin of his back giving him battle scars he'd happily enjoy for the rest of his life. The way she gripped and stroked his heart until he couldn't take it didn't hurt, either.

Jane bit her lip to keep from laughing as Natasha and Pepper gripped their coffee in pale hands several days later. They still hadn't removed their sunglasses.

"We haven't heard from Hermione. Does she still need us to go through with the plan?" asked Pepper, her voice calm and quiet and stronger than it had been the morning before.

Smiling into the screen of her computer from where she spoke to the pair, Jane shook her head. "She sent me a patronus to let me know she was doing well but needed some private time over the next few days to work something out. She said not to worry about Loki for the time being."

"Speaking of, I haven't heard anything out of him for a while." said Natasha. "What's he up to? I don't trust this silence."

"Pepper? Pepper are you in there with Widow? Why isn't she gone yet?"

"Shut the Hell up, Stark!" shouted Natasha, and Pepper reached a shaky hand to her temple.

"Did you call Snape to ask about those headache potions Hermione talked about?" asked Pepper faintly.

"He's hard to reach right now," muttered Natasha.

"Caught wind of the containment chamber you planned to put him in?" asked Jane innocently.

"It wasn't meant to be permanent, just until we came to an agreement about a few things," said Natasha.

"So, yes?"

"I'll see if I can reach Hermione to ask her to pass along the request. They use owls for this kind of thing," said Jane. "Maybe I can find one at the park."

"Bless you, Jane," said Pepper with feeling.

A knock sounded at Jane's door, and she waved goodbye to her friends. "Get some rest, I'll be in touch."

The connection cut as she opened the door and accepted the large bouquet of brilliantly blooming flowers, smiling as she buried her face in them. She signed for them and settled them on the well-worn coffee table, and dug around the stems to locate the card.

With Gratitude

-L/H

Biting her lip, she gave a small squeal and danced on the spot a moment.

"Is everything alright?" Thor asked, peering around the door from the kitchen.

Jane's bright eyes and flushed face gave away her excitement, and she hopped happily to Thor and flung her arms around him.

"What's this for?" he asked, not minding at all when she kissed him deeply on the lips in her enthusiasm. His arms came around her middle and pulled her closer.

"Just happy that other people get to be happy, too. Especially those who deserve it."

His brow furled in puzzlement, Thor rubbed his bearded chin against her soft hair. "If you're happy, I'm happy."

"Very happy," she said.

Probably almost as happy as the two tucked away in Hermione's apartment, she mused, and giggled. They still hadn't shown any signs of surfacing, and it had been days.

Poor Director Fury. He'd have to deal with Hermione trying to bring Loki on as a full Avenger, now. They'd never be insurable again. On the positive side, with Hermione's final 'mission' being effectively cancelled (or completed, depending on one's perspective), they had a small budget surplus. And she had research that needed more budget...

Against her ear Thor rumbled in contentment and nipped at her throat, and Jane's breath caught. Hmm. Hopefully her tenant insurance covered acts of gods, because she was pretty sure there was about to be one on her couch...

AN: Happy birthday, Uchiha.S! :D Wishing you all the happiness and cake with awesomesauce you can handle on your special day. ^_^ Much love!

AN2: Yes, titles were shamelessly filched from videogames. Apart from the original prompt, which I pulled from a writing-prompt website. I hope you've enjoyed! Comments feed the muse—and with this being my first cross-over fic (and foray into 'Avengers'-territory), any and all feedback's appreciated.

Much love to you, readers, and happy weekend!

-mm