[Sorry for the wait. Already working on the next bit.]

The office had a distinct fragrance.

After a particularly disappointing day, she had pinpointed it to: stress, hunger and self-loathing. Rows and rows of desks, each occupant more desperate and cutthroat than the next made up the tabloid "news" building.

Working as a tabloid journalist wasn't what she expected after she graduated college. Every hope of working in a reputable news place was put on hold when her college loans piled up. She settled for earning enough money to get by. So every day she'd take a cab and pray that someone or something would blow up her building, forcing her to find a more rewarding job.

This time, it was different.

This is it, Heather Moskal thought as she stepped out of the elevator with her article at hand, each step taking her closer to that pay raise she desperately needed. This is my ticket to move up.

"Moskal darling, I didn't know you still worked here," she heard from behind. "Mark's still kept you around."

Heather forced a smile. "I could say the same about you Molly, still picking up the scraps?"

Molly smirked as she pushed past her "Not anymore darling, Molly's moved up."

Heather's heart dropped. Letting her bag and folder fall to the floor, she barged into the editor's office. "Mark, you promoted her?!" Heather used all of her self control not to jump over the desk and attack him. "Of all the more deserving people in the fucking office it had to be her?"

Beads of sweat began rolling down the middle-aged man's head while he fidgeted with his wedding ring, "Molly's articles have brought sales up and-"

"And your dick too by the rumors going around the office," she spat angrily.

"Now that's not true!" He defended himself, turning a deep shade of red, "Your stories aren't up to par, and they have too much truth and not enough… crazy. The readers want crazy, not actual facts!"

"Oh, if it's crazy you want," she said with a dangerous smile, "then crazy you'll get."

The office stood still while Heather's manicured hand turned into a fist and went through the computer screen. They stood in salute as she left the editors office and went to her desk, carelessly shoving her belongings in her bag.

"I quit, but before I leave, I have my last news story," she announced dramatically as she climbed her desk. "Miss Molly Collins is fucking the editor. And with that, I bid you farewell."

She could still hear the claps her coworkers gave her and see the mortified looks on the adulterers face. The rush of adrenaline wore off by the time she rounded the corner and realized she was now unemployed. Still, that night she slept without a care in the world.

It never crossed her mind that her ticket to move up was missing and that it was made the cover page of the magazine, all thanks to Molly Collins.

She woke up late and dressed comfortably. Black loose fitted jeans, a white tank top and a light red coat replaced her detestable tight skirts and low cut blouses. She took a walk around the neighborhood and walked the streets aimlessly, stopping when she found herself opening a door and taking a seat in a small table.

"Let me see if I remember correctly," Tom chuckled. "You'll have a vanilla scoop, right darling?"

"Ugh, don't call me that," she snapped but her tone softened as she closed her eyes and rested her head on the table. "And that'll be two scoops, thank you."

Moments later, she heard the scraping of the chair next to her being pulled out and felt two knees bump into hers. She peeked from under her hands and was met with Tom's warm smile and a cup decked out in sprinkles.

He brought out a spoon and placed it in her hand. "Right then, tell me your troubles I'm here to listen."

"You haven't enough time," Heather sighed. "Plus I don't even know you."

"My name is Tom and I own the shop." He pointed to the surroundings and the various places where his name was plastered.

"Today is the slower of the weekdays and I have all day," he said smiling. "So love, I'm all ears."

She took a spoonful of ice cream and closed her eyes, savoring the perfectly crafted flavor. His kind eyes met hers and she felt a weight fall off her shoulders. "Well Tom, my name is Heather, and used to lie for a living…"

She arrived every morning with her laptop, taking time between updating her resume and savoring her frozen treat. Tom would join her in her job search and Heather would take turns tending after the shop when Tom was on the phone or in the back room. After the first few days, Tom no longer charged her for the ice cream. And after weeks, they no longer spent time searching for a job and she started wearing one of his aprons.

"That look suits you well love," he admired from the counter. "Red and white stripes are definitely your style."

She twirled in her apron and struck a pose. "I do look good don't I?"

"Okay calm down, you don't look that great." Laughing, Tom jumped on the counter and slung the apron over his shoulder. "I'm the only one who's model material and don't you forget it."

"Oh shut up," she tugged at her oversized apron and pouted. "After I fix this apron I'll battle you on the cat walk."

"It is a bit too big on you." Tom hopped off the counter and inspected the apron; folding the excess material and making it cling closer to her figure. "No worries, I'll fix it. You're here as much as I am, you're practically my employee."

She shot him a smile and poked his ribs. "What kind of employer pays with ice cream?"

"A cool one," he said smiling. "Get it? Cool? I sell ice cream and its cold."

She rolled her eyes, "You're so witty boss."

He took a step closer and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm pretty clever, aren't I?"

Tom leaned in, his arms wrapping around her waist. She giggled and before Tom's lips reached hers, she beat him to the kiss.

The bell jingled as she entered the shop. Tom hung the phone and shrugged, but he broke into a smile once he saw Heather reaching the counter.

"One vanilla scoop, extra sprinkles," he said already starting on the order.

Blushing, Heather laughed and gave him a wide smile, "You know me too well Tom."

She leaned across the counter and pulled him in for a long kiss.

"What's that for?" He placed the ice cream on the side and pulled out two spoons.

"I got a job," she said shining with excitement. "A proper one like the one I've always wanted."

"Heather, that's great!" He gave her a hug and swayed from side to side. "They'd be idiots if they didn't hire you."

"Don't think this means you've gotten rid of me," she played with his hair and pulled it lightly. "This is still my part time job."

"Good, because today is one of the busiest and Tony is on his way to have a talk."

The color drained for Heather's face and a sinking feeling overcame her. It had been weeks since she'd said those horrible things to Tony's companion. She'd forgotten all about that day and was grateful that the tabloid article wasn't in her name, wanting to distance herself from the rag it was printed on. Not once had she'd stop to think about the repercussions that the article might have but she remembered.

Heather remembered all too clearly the look of hurt in the man's eyes when she said those spiteful things.

Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.

She buried her head on his shoulder. "I know what he wants to talk about."

Tom held her close and patted her back. "And what's that?"

Heather took a deep breath and began to explain.

[Also sorry for the lack Tony and Loki but they're coming up! I promise!]