No God is An Island (1/3)

Author: starhawk2005

Fandom: Marvel's Avengers

Date: July 2013

Pairing: Loki/ Jane (Lokane)

Rating: Adult (18+).

Summary: Part Five of the Light in the Dark series. Unfortunately, SHIELD aren't the only ones who know Loki is on Earth.

Beta: All kneel before the Goddess of Proofreading, canyr12!

Disclaimer: Not mine. Marvel needs a rent-to-own program, clearly.

Author's Note: Movie!verse, as usual! And it's 56 freakin' pages! A new record for me for chapter length. *dies*

It stands and looks out at the broken stars, a greedy smile splitting its face.

The Chitauri refer to it as 'The Other', signifying that it is not of their race, even though the Master saw fit to make it their leader.

To itself, it is only the Nameless One. Oh, it once had a name, but that was long ago. Before the Master came. Before the fire, darkness, and pain.

But if it acquits itself well in this endeavour, it will avoid more pain. Perhaps the Master will even see fit to reward his faithful servant. The creature smirks unpleasantly at the thought.

The Asgardian has been found.

The betrayer is on Midgard, which is something of a surprise to the Nameless One. But no matter. Though the humans had proved to have powerful weapons, those are of no consequence here, as the Nameless One doubts the humans will rush to defend the one who had attempted to lay waste to their home.

And so, well-schooled in patience by the Master, the Nameless One watches, noting the defenses the Asgardian has laid against attack. It laughs soundlessly at how pathetic those defenses are. The betrayer's magic is strong, yes, but these defenses seem carelessly made, as if the Asgardian did not believe it possible that he would be found.

Fool.

Besides, the Nameless One has its own powers, more than sufficient to counteract the Asgardian's petty defenses.

At its leisure, it plots the most amusing means of punishment for the Asgardian. The Master wishes the Asgardian alive, that he may be used to aid in gaining the Tesseract from the Realm Eternal.

But the Asgardian is strong, and the Nameless One is sure it can dream up some suitable tortures while they await the Master's arrival.

It smiles, and it plots. Soon, the betrayer will pay.

Jane stands in the middle of her lab, fidgeting as she looks around. While it's not as disorganized as she had feared, the SHIELD agents obviously hadn't been familiar with Jane's way of filing everything, so it takes Jane three times as long as she expects to find the things she needs, especially since she's stumbling around in heels. Dad had always said one should dress nicely before meeting potentially important people, and this definitely qualifies!

Not that any of this helps her nerves any.

Finally, after an intense, tense search, she finds the structural equation model, clumsily titled the 'Quadruple Logistic Equation', which forms the basis of her theory. It's so bloody complex, than even she sometimes confuses two or more of the terms and has to check her own notes again. Trying to teach it to Darcy had helped Jane get it straight in her own head, at least for awhile, but that doesn't change the fact it's a monster.

How they apparently manage to do it so effortlessly in Asgard, Jane has no clue, and it's difficult not to be jealous of them for that! She doubts the Gatekeeper Thor and Loki both told her about – Heimdall, if she remembers correctly – has to worry about calculating vectors, planetary gravity, quantum mechanics, the friction quotient of the interstellar medium-

"Hey, d'you need any help?"

Her hands stuck in the middle of a stack of papers, trying to hold them far enough apart so that she can read the titles without toppling the entire stack, Jane doesn't look around at the sound of Darcy's voice. "Yes, please! I was just looking for my notes and scans from the last Bifröst event we managed to record-"

"They're over here," Darcy says helpfully, rummaging in a box on the other side of the lab. She comes over and hands the pile of papers and acetates to Jane. "Love the suit, by the way. That dark blue really suits you."

"Thanks," Jane says, trying to sound casual though she can feel herself thrumming with nervous energy. Is today the day? Is this the day which will ultimately lead to her dream becoming a reality?

Or will it only be another disappointment?

Darcy trails after her and watches as Jane loads a box full of her most important notes into the back of the Pinz. "Ready when you are," Darcy says after Jane slams the back shut, Darcy trying not to stare too obviously at Jane's slightly-shaking hands.

Jane blinks at her. "Um, what?"

Darcy blinks right back. "Uh, I'm your lab assistant, remember? So how can you meet with Mr. Billionaire Superhero without me?" She gestures to the box of notes. "I can find your notes quicker than you can. Sometimes I think you don't even remember your own filing system." She pauses. "Especially when you're nervous," she adds delicately.

Jane blinks a couple more times. "You know I'm meeting with Stark?"

Darcy shrugs. "Yeah, Fury told me."

"I'm just surprised Fury wants to invite you to the party," Jane admits. "He doesn't strike me as the most 'open' guy-"

"Me neither," Darcy agrees as they climb into the car. "But I guess they figured since I was around when all the drama with Thor and Loki was taking place 'round here that I was already at the party." She shrugs and smiles. "At least until SHELD manages to invent that Men in Black mind-wipe doohickey."

Jane smiles.

"But anyway, remember when they threw all that money at you after Thor left? When they returned all our stuff? They did a background check on me then, too."

Jane chews her lip, suddenly feeling guilty. She'd expected them to dig into her life to a certain extent (and Erik's) once she'd agreed to being on their payroll, but…Darcy's too?

"So yeah, I doubt they'll arrest me at the door," Darcy winks. "Besides, hadn't you noticed? I wore a skirt today." She plucks at it by way of illustration. "Hate to waste it. Anyway, I'm here to help. Hey, that's a neat necklace. Did Loki give that to you last night? I don't remember seeing it before."

Jane smiles and starts the car, grateful for Darcy's presence and rapid-fire, distracting questions. A long lonely drive would only have reinforced Jane's anxiety about meeting Tony Stark.

"Yeah, he kind of…conjured it."

"Sweet!" Darcy gets an envious look on her face. "You know Jane, you've had not one, but two gods fall for you. What's your secret?"

Jane giggles, a little embarrassed. "Honestly Darcy, I have no idea…"

Darcy sighs. "If you figure it out, share, will you? 'Cuz those Asgardians…" she gives a low whistle. "Damn, are they cut. And I'm starting to get tired of men – human men – and their issues."

Jane snorts another laugh. "Trust me, Loki has issues. Hell, his issues have issues."

Darcy gives her a sidelong glance. "Not with you, obviously."

Jane shakes her head. "No, not with me. But it's….complicated." His words come back to her: As I said, it is family business, Jane Foster.

"Oh well, at least he's not hard on the eyes while he's working out his issues." Darcy winks at Jane and rolls down her window, resting an elbow on the frame. "Can you at least finally tell me how you and Loki met?"

Jane pauses and bites her lip, wondering if she should just tell the truth. She's tired of hiding, and of lying, and even if their 'arrangement' – relationship? – hadn't started off well, it's been pretty good since….

Maybe Darcy will withdraw her support once she hears the full story, but Jane realizes that's a chance she'll have to take. Loki loves subterfuge, it obviously comes with being the God of Mischief, but Jane isn't wired that way. She doesn't enjoy pulling the wool over other people's eyes the way he does, and in any case, she needs to save her energy for more important things, like building her wormhole generator.

Taking a deep breath and focusing her eyes on the road ahead, Jane begins: "It started a few weeks after the Battle of Manhattan, when I got this feeling, like someone was watching me…."

Jane shouldn't have worried. She'd described how her relationship had begun with Loki, though she'd glossed over all of the kinky stuff, obviously. Then she'd filled Darcy in on Loki's battle with Thor, and how Loki had come to be with her in the SHIELD jail, and finally Loki's 'confession' to Fury.

She'd finished with the fact that Loki obviously had some major issues with Thor and with his family, but that he refused to let Jane in on the reasons why, and then Jane shut up and waited for Darcy's reaction.

Which was: "Boy, you weren't kidding. Dude definitely has issues."

Jane couldn't help giggling nervously. "That's it? That's all you're going to say?"

Darcy had looked questioningly over at her. "He's being good to you, right?" she'd asked.

"Yes." Jane had replied. "Very."

"Then I haven't changed my mind since last night – I wasn't that drunk, you know. As long as he behaves himself, I'm going to support your decision." She'd paused, then smiled archly. "Well, behaves himself outside the bedroom, anyway."

She'd winked, Jane had laughed, and then they'd moved on to other topics.

By the time they arrive at the SHIELD base, Jane and Darcy are in the midst of a friendly debate about whether Thor, Loki, and the rest of them should be considered 'gods' or 'aliens'.

The main sticking point seems to be their use of magic. Jane doesn't know quite what to make of it, despite her words months ago that 'magic is science we just don't understand yet'. Darcy, on the other hand, is of the opinion that Loki and Thor's magic is like ESP, and that maybe some humans have those abilities as well, even if scientists haven't proven it yet. So it's not magic, and therefore they are in fact aliens. Superior beings, sure. But not gods.

Jane pulls the Pinz into a parking space. "Just don't call Loki an 'alien' to his face, OK? He's definitely locked into this 'I am a god' idea."

Darcy nods and smirks. "Gotcha." She starts to open the car door, then pauses. "You ready for this?" she asks Jane.

Jane closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and tries to calm the fluttering re-birth of the butterflies in her stomach. They've been absent for most of the trip up here, thanks to Darcy, but now they are threatening to take over again.

"As ready as I'll ever be. Let's do this." She slides out of the car and strides purposefully around to the back to get her notes, though she wobbles a bit on her heels.

"I've got them," Darcy says, taking the box from her over Jane's feeble protests. "I'm the lab assistant, remember? I assist."

Over by the door to the imposing SHIELD complex, Jane spots two figures. One is Director Fury, the other a tall redheaded woman in a smart grey suit. Jane's never met her, but she can guess easily enough who it must be, from the things she has heard about Stark. Setting her shoulders and taking another deep breath, Jane walks over to Fury and the woman, her heels clicking loudly enough on the concrete to make Jane wince inwardly. That's what happens when you get used to walking in sneakers all the time, she reminds herself.

"Dr. Foster," Fury addresses her. "This is Ms. Potts, CEO-"

"Of Stark Industries, I know," Jane interjects, her nerves driving her to interrupt, even as she tries to get a handle on them. She shakes hands with Potts, wincing inwardly again at the thought of how cold her hands must feel to the other woman.

"Please call me Pepper," she says, smiling kindly at Jane.

"And I'm Darcy, Jane's lab assistant," Darcy pipes up, juggling the box of notes so she can shake hands with Pepper as well. "Say, any chance I can get an autograph from Iron Man?"

"Darcy!" Jane sputters, heat rising into her cheeks. Is that why Darcy wanted to come along so bad? Jane had no idea Darcy was such a fan of Iron Man.

But Pepper laughs. "I get that a lot, Dr. Foster. Don't be too hard on your assistant."

Jane smiles in reply and shakes her head. "I can just imagine. Please, though, call me Jane."

"Jane, then," Pepper nods. "Tony should be here within the hour. He was tinkering in his lab when I left, but I reminded him that it's not nice to keep women waiting." Pepper smirks knowingly, though Jane has to suppress a pang of envy at the thought of Tony Stark in his lab, with all the freedom and money to do whatever he wants, whenever he wants, for whomever he wants (himself, most likely).

If she plays her cards right, however, that will be her, won't it?

"Maybe we could wait indoors, in the air-conditioning?" Fury suggests. His eye focuses on the snake necklace around Jane's neck, and his expression sours for a long moment before he schools it back to neutrality. "Ladies?" He motions them ahead of him.

"Thank you," Pepper says, leading the way with brisk strides.

Jane glances over her shoulder at the parking lot just before the building swallows them up. She wonders if maybe Loki is here, listening and watching but cloaked from everyone's view. Somehow that thought, correct or not, settles her down a bit.

"Those are lovely shoes," Pepper compliments Jane as they settle into a lounge on the second floor, Fury excusing himself to attend to other things. The lounge smells pleasantly of coffee, and Darcy dumps her box on the couch and makes a beeline for the coffee machine like her life depended on it.

"Thank you," Jane says, smiling ruefully. "Too bad they look better than they feel." She wriggles her toes against the restraining black leather.

Pepper sighs. "Tell me about it. Sometimes I tell myself that if I'm not going to wear sensible shoes now, when I'm CEO, when will I ever get a better chance?" Smirking, she toes off her shoes, and after a moment Jane smiles and does the same, both of them breathing a sigh of relief.

"That's one of the advantages of research, I guess – I can wear whatever I like. If I want to open a portal to another planet while wearing pajamas and bunny slippers, who's going to know?" Jane muses.

Darcy sniggers as she plops down on the soft couch next to Jane, adding her sparkly silver ballet flats to the discarded footwear on the floor. "No weirder than all those Asgardians showing up in Puente Antiguo looking like rejects from the local Renaissance Fair."

Jane stiffens. Should we really be reminding Stark's right-hand man (excuse me, woman) about Loki right now?

But the warmth in Pepper's voice doesn't change. "That reminds me, I've been looking over your research, Doc- Jane." Pepper is saying. "It's truly remarkable what you've accomplished, especially given how little support and funding you've received from grant agencies and the academic community in general. I saw some of the schematics of the equipment you built from scratch. Tony was fairly impressed."

Jane smiles and blushes again. "Well, it certainly helped when Thor arrived. Once I knew that other worlds were out there, that other races had similar technology…" She shrugs. "And SHIELD's support didn't hurt either," she adds.

Of course, finally knowing that wormhole travel was possible hadn't been her onlyreason for pushing harder at the time. She'd still been in love with Thor then. Which reminds her yet again that she's with Loki now, and Jane's smile falters slightly. Does she dare bring that subject up with Pepper, get it out of the way before Stark gets here?

Or does the other woman already know?

Pepper rises to her feet with a grace Jane wishes she could match, and fetches her own coffee. "I'm sure a Eureka moment like that never hurts. I'm no scientist – that's all Tony's department – but I've certainly seen him when that moment strikes." She grins. "He starts behaving like a hyperactive child on intravenous caffeine."

Next to Jane, Darcy snorts. "We should get together sometime and compare notes. Survival strategies and stuff like that," she quips, giving Jane a sideways look.

Jane shifts uncomfortably though she tries to smile. "Am I really that bad?" she asks Darcy.

"Nobody could be as bad as Tony," Pepper gives a long-suffering sigh, though the corner of her mouth quirks.

"Me? Bad?" comes a wounded male voice from the hallway. "And here I thought you liked the bad boys." The legendary Tony Stark strolls casually into the room, followed by Fury. Stark is wearing a Black Sabbath tee shirt and jeans that have seen better days. Way better days. "I feel suddenly underdressed," he quips, his gaze sweeping the room though it seems to linger longest on Jane.

The butterflies in Jane's stomach start to wheel in agitated circles.

Pepper makes an exasperated noise and rolls her eyes. "Tony Stark, may I introduce Dr. Jane Foster and her assistant, Darcy Lewis?"

Jane and Darcy stand, Jane's hands clenching themselves together in front of her. Moment of truth. It doesn't help that Fury is there, his single eye locked on Jane, or so it seems to her. And she's standing here in her bare feet to meet the legendary Tony Stark! Dad would be so disappointed.

"Ladies," Tony says, shaking hands with both of them, his grip warm and firm.

Some of the tension breaks when he pecks Pepper on the cheek. "Get me a coffee, would you?" he asks her.

Pepper rolls her eyes again and sends Jane and Darcy a 'see-what-I-have-to-put-up-with?' look, but she smirks and strides over to the coffee machine.

Tony seat-drops onto the couch. "So, a wormhole generator," he says.

Jane sits down herself, vaguely aware that Darcy is still standing.

"Yes. That's probably the simplest way to put it." Jane glances nervously up at Darcy, who looks a little nervous herself. What the-? Oh, right.

"My lab assistant is dying for your autograph, Mr. Stark," Jane says with an inner sigh. Better get that awkwardness out of the way. Before the other awkwardness, anyway.

"No problem," he says. "And it's Tony. Got a pen?" he asks Darcy.

"You can go, by the way," Tony says to Fury as Darcy fumbles in her purse. "I think I can control a crowd of one raging fangirl." He winks at Darcy, who smirks saucily back.

Rolling his eye in annoyance, Fury snorts and leaves after a single nod at the rest of them.

"Stop pushing Nick's buttons," Pepper chides Tony gently, bringing his coffee over.

"Why?" Tony whines. "It's fun. And since when is he 'Nick'?"

Jane has to stifle a giggle, her nerves settling somewhat. Tony seems so…normal? He's not what Jane was expecting at all, considering he's so rich, famous, and is a superhero to boot.

On the other hand, Jane can see the faint blue glimmer of the arc-reactor under his shirt. No, she amends, not normal. But not frightening.

"Anyway, I've been looking over all the records SHIELD has of your work to date," Tony says, handing pen and paper back to Darcy. "Impressive stuff. Some real leaps of genius there." He takes a sip of coffee, but his eyes seem to watch her carefully over the rim of the mug.

Or is Jane looking for distrust where none exists? She can't tell. People are so much harder to figure out than planets and stars! Mathematics just doesn't begin to capture the attitudes and thoughts of the human animal.

"Thank you," she says, blushing again, her eyes dropping to her lap. "I really appreciate you taking the time to consider working with me." She fidgets, then decides to take on the elephant in the room head-on, before she dies of anxiety. "Especially given the obvious….complication."

Tony's eyes sharpen further. "Pepper, Darcy, could you give us a couple minutes? Jane and I need to have a private conversation. Intellectual property issues to consider, and all of that," he adds though the last part is a joke, judging by his smirk.

Darcy raises an eyebrow, but Pepper nods in understanding and, snagging both their pairs of shoes from the floor, motions for Darcy to follow her. Jane thinks she glimpses a small reassuring smile from Pepper aimed towards her on their way out.

Jane clenches cold fists tightly in her lap, eyes on the floor as Tony rises and walks to the door Pepper just shut behind her. "So, Loki, huh?" he says, turning to face Jane.

Jane takes a deep breath. "Yes. I'm…involved with him. I guess Fury told you."

"Yep." Tony says. He takes a deep swig of coffee. "I think that might've even been the first thing he told me."

Jane's not surprised. "Did he also tell you what Loki told him? About why he attacked us?"

Tony nods. "He did. Showed me the entire video of the confession, in fact."

Jane blinks. She hadn't realized Fury had recorded the conversation, but she's not surprised, again. "And?"

"Don't know that I believe all of it, or even most of it," Tony says, shrugging. "But from what I understand, Thor obviously knows where Loki is, but is letting Loki do his thing. And, frankly, do you," Tony points out, and Jane shifts awkwardly. "That goes a long way. While I don't know Thor all that well, I admit, I know enough about him to be pretty sure he wouldn't be able to sleep at night if he thought he'd left a monster running around down here."

Jane nods.

"Not to mention, the intrepid Director Fury is letting this project go forward," Tony adds, gesturing with the coffee mug.

Jane snorts. "I'm pretty sure that's so he can keep an eye on me." Even she is surprised at how bitter she sounds.

Tony chuckles. "Well, he does only have the one," he agrees. He drains the mug and puts it on the counter, then flops down on the couch again.

"Still, I get the distinct feeling Fury wouldn't let this go ahead if he thought Loki was involved." Tony cocks his head. "Is he?" His eyes fixate on Jane's necklace, and she wonders if Loki's gift is forever going to be an anchor around her throat.

Jane shakes her head. "No. We don't really talk about my work." She ignores the blush trying to creep into her face again.

Tony smirks. "I kinda thought he'd mellow a bit once he got laid."

Jane is startled into laughing loudly, and Tony joins her.

"I do wonder sometimes why he's never asked about my work," she admits. "Maybe even a Norse God can appreciate the good sense of giving someone else their space?"

Tony shrugs. "Seems to work for Pepper and me. She knows better than to get between me and my suits." He pauses and looks at Jane for a long moment, his eyes narrowed in a calculating way.

Seeming to come to a decision, he stands and extends a hand to her. "Are you free next Tuesday? I'll have Pepper make arrangements to get you to Stark Tower in New York. I'll show you the site for the new arc reactor, go over the specs with you and make sure they work with your theoretical model, that sort of thing."

Jane blinks up at him. Frankly, she'd expected more resistance than this. "Does this mean that you trust me, then?"

"You haven't given me any reason not to," Tony replies. "Just keep Reindeer Games away, OK? And no discussion of the actual portal or power source specs with him. Though I'd be telling you to do the same even if he was Joe Blow. It's S.O.P. for SHIELD."

Jane nods. "Of course. I figured as much." She rises to her feet and takes Tony's hand. "I…don't know what to say, Mr. Stark. I've been working for so long, spent so much time wondering if my portal could ever be built and-"

"It's Tony, and you're welcome. I always enjoy making history," he jokes, smiling warmly down at her. "Now," he says, motioning towards the door. "Grab your shoes. We'd better find our lady friends and One-Eye and tell 'em all the good news…"

Jane is so high on both relief and sheer excitement that Darcy takes one look at her face in the parking lot and insists on driving the Pinz back home. "You'll daydream us right into a ditch," Darcy argues, firmly pushing Jane towards the passenger side.

Darcy knows Jane well enough to know when she's in full-on geek mode and won't be in the mood to talk; Darcy starts the car and immediately turns on the Pinzgauer's radio.

Jane doesn't take offense at Darcy ignoring her; she needs the head-space right now. So much to think about. Jane takes out her notepad and starts scribbling lists immediately at lightning speed, first of all the equipment she'll need to bring over from her lab, then of the estimated power requirements she'll need to generate a portal to Asgard – she may not be welcome there, as Loki's lover, but it's still the most obvious choice. Where else is she going to go? – and then a list of all the calculations she'll want to double- and triple- and maybe even quadruple-check.

It's a long drive though, and eventually Jane finds herself exhausted by the whole thing, even as her brain keeps buzzing along in a million directions. But Darcy is in her own little zone, still listening to the music and humming to herself, so Jane tries to turn her thoughts to something- anything- else.

The first thing that comes to her is Loki's voice: Are there certain acts or scenarios you have always wanted a lover to do, to you or with you, that you wish to attempt with me?

Jane rolls her eyes at herself. Jesus H. Christ. Maybe Loki isn't the only one with a one-track mind.

She turns to the window to hide her little smile. That's not true, she has two tracks: Einstein-Rosen bridge, and kinky sex.

Still, she can see no actual harm – and it would be a mental break from Stark-Foster for a few minutes – in thinking about what she might like to try. Or not. She already knows that she likes being overpowered, and that she likes dangerous men. Loki already fits the bill on both, but does she dare take it any further?

Maybe it would be safer, if less exciting, just to linger in the realm of something more mundane for a while? The 'hunt' they'd acted out had been damned hot, but if she does that kind of thing too often with him, won't that get boring pretty quickly?

Or is she just talking herself out of trying more challenging things because she's afraid? Afraid of him judging her or laughing at her, afraid that he'll take things too far and it will stop being fun, afraid of exposing too much of herself?

Jane shakes her head slightly. This? Not helping. Damn.

She sighs and tries to engage Darcy in conversation instead. "I didn't know you were such an Iron Man fan," she says.

"I'm not," Darcy answers. "But his autographs sell for a shitload of money on e-Bay."

Jane laughs until she almost pees herself.

Jane closes her (her! The idea still feels her with a kind of giddy joy) apartment door behind her. "Anyone here?" she calls, but she gets no answer. She doesn't want to say Loki's name just yet and summon him if he isn't here already; she'd realized on her way up the stairs that she hasn't given any thought at all to what she'll tell him about today.

The apartment is empty, the silence seeming to ring in her ears. She finds herself pacing absently from room to room, her brain still full of calculations and hypotheses…and worries about what could go wrong. What she might have missed.

It's one thing to work with Darcy (who doesn't really understand) and Erik (who in the past was tolerant of any mistakes on her part), but working with a legend like Tony Stark? Fucking this up is going to be that much more embarrassing! Probably really bad for any remaining academic reputation she has as well.

After what feels like hours, Jane finally decides she'll never get any sleep tonight if she doesn't manage to shut her overactive brain down. So she makes herself a hot peppermint tea and goes up onto the roof. She already moved two chairs into 'her' corner during the move, and now she sits and watches the sunset, sipping the steaming liquid slowly.

She wonders if she should summon Loki, but that only leads her to start on a new worry: What, if anything, she'll tell him about today's meeting.

After a brief argument with herself, she decides the best way to handle this whole problem is to let him ask, if he's curious. She realizes she wants him here, badly. She needs a distraction if she's going to be able to turn her brain and body off and relax at all tonight.

"Loki." she says loudly, a few decibels lower than a shout.

She wonders how quiet she can be, and yet still have him hear her. That will need to be an experiment for another time, for now there's a creaking of leathers behind her, and the god himself walks over to sit beside her.

"My lady," he smirks, raising her hand to his lips. She giggles and shakes her head in reply. She doesn't think she'll ever get used to that.

He scans the horizon and the clouds, pink-tinged from the lowering sun. "A lovely view." He pauses, then asks carefully. "And did you have a productive day, my Jane?"

She squeezes his hand as her barely-controlled excitement surges. "Yes, I'll say! I met with Tony – Stark, rather – and he agreed to work with me. He's going to build the power source for my por- my Bifröst!"

Loki smiles, seemingly delighted by her delight, but then a serious expression returns to his features. "Might I assume he knows about me – about us?"

Jane nods, her own smile wavering a little. But then she decides just as quickly that she won't buy into the shame that she thinks she can read on his face. "Fury told him. But Stark seems OK with it – Fury showed him your…confession. And Tony figures if Thor seems all right with you being here, and Fury is OK with me working with Stark Industries…" She trails off with a shrug, but her excitement renders her unable to sit still. She releases his hand and gets up and paces, draining the last of her tea, her feet making scuffing noises. Loki watches her restless movements curiously.

"Are you well?" he asks her after her fifth circuit of the rooftop.

"Yes, I am. Actually, I'm better than well." She turns to face him. "Everything I've been working towards, for as long as I can remember…and now it feels like it's right there. Like I might actually be able to make this bridge between worlds work. It's not just a pipe dream or whacked-out scientific theory. Other people believe in it."

Loki frowns. "Why should they not? Oh, perhaps before, before Thor-" he pauses, grimacing, but then soldiers on: "-and I came here to your Realm, and yes, the Chitauri as well. But the other Nine Realms are out there, and denying it will not help your people be ready to meet them. Or to defend themselves."

Jane freezes in place, her blood going utterly cold. The mug dangles from abruptly nerveless fingers. "You think Fury wants my portal so we can somehow defend ourselves better against alien attack? Or escape?"

Loki shakes his head at her distress and rises from the chair to pluck the cup from her hand, and then he wraps his larger hands around hers. "In truth, I cannot say what he thinks. Or if that such is true, that he would be wrong. The universe and Midgard are not so different, in the sense that some who populate it are good, while others are of evil intent. No doubt once Midgard can open the way to other worlds, some will welcome your people with open arms – like Asgard, I would safely warrant – while others may look to conquer you. But even if it is the latter case, the Bifröst in Asgard has always proved useful, and thus I would wager having a Midgardian version will do more good than harm." Warmth seeps into her skin from his, though his eyes look haunted.

"But why dwell on what may never come to pass?" he asks, drawing her in for a kiss. "Your first task is to build the bridge, and finally the other mortals are recognizing and supporting your hard work and intellect. Thus it seems to me that a celebration is warranted." He kisses her again, harder and deeper than before, his tongue curling around hers.

Jane smiles and tries to catch her breath when he lowers her back to her feet. "I don't know if I'm capable of cooking up an Asgardian-style feast." Yeah, like ramen noodles, PB and J, Kraft dinner, and pancakes would even come close. That's about the extent of her cooking ability, sadly.

He grins. "Such was not my intention. No, I shall find a suitable place for us to dine. I will make the arrangements, and return in half of one of your hours to collect you."

He vanishes before Jane can ask him anything further. Crap. He didn't say if it was fancy or- She has to chuckle. Right, like Mr. Terminally Overdressed would take her to Taco Bell to celebrate.

She goes back to her apartment, excitement still fueling her as she digs in the closet for her blue wraparound dress. Thank God she had decided not to pack it during the move, just in case, as most of her clothes are still in boxes! She only has the one pair of dress shoes, the same ones she wore to meet with Tony today, so she goes to retrieve them from where she dropped them earlier.

She studies herself in the mirror. The dress leaves her shoulders bare, and she wonders if she should wear or bring a wrap of some kind. But that would cover Loki's gift, and it looks very good on her, paired with the dress. Well, no doubt if she feels cold, Loki can do something about that. She smirks and winks at herself, then applies a little makeup and brushes out her hair.

She then spends about ten minutes pacing the apartment again. Without Loki here to divert her attention, it's too easy to fall right back into ruminating about Stark-Foster-

A flash dazzles her eyes, and Loki is back. He's once again wearing his dark suit, white dress shirt, and that scarf. The one he used to blindfold her in the SHIELD jail, to help her 'focus'. She finds herself blushing at the memory.

And I thought I had few clothes, she thinks, hiding a grin. Loki seems to have exactly three outfits – Dressy Midgardian, Asgardian Casual, and Asgardian Armoured to the Max. But at least he's retained his progress with the hair-gel, or rather, the lack of hair-gel. Jane approves.

His eyes take in her form from head to toe. "My beautiful one. I shall surely be the envy of all. Come," he says, beckoning her with an elegant hand.

She shakes her head and blushes bright red at his compliment, but takes his hand. Half a heartbeat later, she is blinking the purple flashes out of her vision to find that they are standing in front of a renowned French restaurant. Even Jane, as unworldly as she is, recognizes the name. "You got a reservation here?"

He raises an eyebrow. "I am-"

"A God, yeah, I get it," Jane finishes for him, but she's chuckling.

He grins and tugs her gently with him into the restaurant.

The interior of the place is appropriately dim, the decor in warm golds and reds, the booth they are settled into is plush and private, and the food is, of course, completely exquisite.

The only thing keeping it from being absolutely perfect is Jane's continued nervous energy.

Loki is obviously aware of it too, given he sat himself down right next to her in the booth when they arrived, and he glances over at her with gentle amusement every time she fidgets, her side brushing against his.

To his credit, he does his best to distract her with conversation. He asks her what it is like, living by herself and having to do all her own tasks of daily living – and he seems genuinely interested in her answers. Living on one's own with no servants must be very new and alien to him.

To be fair, Jane tries to put some of the focus back on him. "Would you mind very much telling me about the Bifröst? The real one, I mean?"

Loki shakes his head regretfully. "Alas, there is not much I can convey. It is fuelled by magic, this much you will surely have guessed, but the mechanics of that magic would be difficult for me to explain."

"Because I'm not a magic-user?" Jane asks.

"Partly. But also because I am not at all familiar with such workings. The Gatekeeper -Heimdall- is the one to whom you would need to direct your query. I would possibly be able to explain to you how to cast illusions and such, if I could first have you grasp the fundamentals of magic and how it can be bent to one's will. But even that, I suspect, would prove difficult. And unlike illusions, the Bifröst is quite outside my area of…expertise."

They pause as the waiter brings their desserts – crème brulée for her, tarte tatin for him – and Loki takes a bite, chews appreciatively, and then changes the subject. "Now, have you given any thought to my question regarding which fantasies of yours you will wish me to indulge?"

Jane nearly chokes on her fork. What is it with him and asking embarrassing questions in restaurants?

She gives a short laugh. "I haven't really had the time, to be honest. Between moving and now this Stark thing…well, I've had a lot on my plate." Her brief debate with herself in the Pinz hadn't yielded any actual fantasies, after all, so she's not exactly lying to Loki.

"How disappointing," he sighs, but he's eyeing her cleavage in a way that doesn't match his tone.

"What's wrong with just having…I don't know, standard fantasies?" She drops her voice and glances around, but no one seems to be paying any attention to them. "Tying me up, spanking me, and covering me with snakes is not arousing enough for you?"

He inclines his head, smirking. "I am not saying they are not enjoyable. But sometimes adding yet another layer to such an activity adds…spice." He licks his fork, and to Jane the motion seems full of innuendo.

"You must realize, of course," he continues, "that I have existed a long time. Millenia, compared to you. I have bedded many women – and the occasional man – and so I have learned much about the myriad ways of pleasing partners from various Realms. This is not about me being bored, it is about you being bored."

Jane shakes her head. "I'm not bored. Not even close!"

He studies her face closely, his eyes narrowed. "No, not bored, perhaps. But you are occupied. I can see it clearly this night. Whenever we are not speaking, your thoughts race. Your life's work has its own seductiveness. It does not easily let you go."

"It's not a competition," Jane says.

"No, perhaps not. But I rather think that if I do not totally satisfy and exhaust you tonight, you will not sleep," he predicts. It reminds her of the SHIELD jail, when he'd said something similar.

Jane flinches in surprise as his hand closes on her leg. The dress only comes to mid-thigh, and his fingertips flirt with the edge.

Red stains her cheeks. "Loki!" she chides him, trying to push his hand away. She may as well try to push Stark Tower over with her bare hands, but at least his hand doesn't advance any further up her thigh.

He shakes his head slightly and shifts over to press his side fully against hers, folding his lean arm around her bare shoulders. "No one shall see us. Unless you want them to."

Jane shakes her head – there's that exhibitionist streak in him again – "You couldn't leave a tip large enough to cure the trauma," she jokes half-heartedly. She's intensely aware of his hand on her thigh, fingers caressing her skin in tiny precise circles, transmitting warmth into her flesh.

She'll grant that he is right on one point – she's not fixated on anything related to astrophysics at this particular moment.

He leans into her, burying his nose into her hair and breathing deeply, then he presses a soft kiss to the sensitive flesh behind her ear. "If it would make it easier for you, I could start. I could relate to you a few of my desires," he suggests, his voice like gravel wrapped in silk.

Jane shivers, wanting him to stop and wanting him to not stop at the same time. He knows it too, she'd take bets on it.

"For example, I enjoy watching my partners pleasure themselves. I always find it very…educational," he declares. "And there are some playthings - Asgardian, though I am certain there are Midgardian equivalents, like that vibrator of yours- that I have used in the past that certainly have brought joy to many partners." He pauses and cocks his head, watching her face closely. He's enjoying every minute of this, Jane realizes. "Or perhaps lying with me in my female form would be of interest to you?" he continues.

Jane has tried to ignore the heat rising in both her cheeks and her belly during this whole recital, doing her best to remain unmoved, but that last suggestion of his makes her jaw drop. "Wh…what?"

His lips brush against her ear and she can feel the curve of his grin against her skin. "I have some ability to shift my shape. Oh, it is limited – I cannot take forms significantly larger or smaller than myself. But to alter my own appearance, and to change gender, those are nothing." He traces his fingers lightly along her shoulder, and Jane shudders, goosebumps rising on her arms. "But be assured, my Jane, such are only suggestions. I do not expect you to participate. Do so only if it is something which interests you as well."

Jane shakes her head again, tongue momentarily tied. She settles for chuckling nervously, finally managing to answer with: "Maybe I should be worried about boring you."

His teeth graze her neck just above the necklace, and she has to silence a gasp. "I do not think that possible, little one," he insists, nuzzling under her ear. "Oh, perhaps if you were one of those partners who insists on only the most gentle of acts, and always in the same place and position and with never any variation, well yes, that would certainly pose a risk." He finally leans back and flashes her a leering grin. "But I think we have already well-established that you too would be bored by such repetitiveness."

Jane blushes (you'd think her cheeks would be tired of it by now), but it's the truth. "Got me," she admits, smiling a little despite her mixed emotions.

"Oh yes, that I do," he purrs, his arm tightening around her as he leans in again. "Now, where was I?" he continues as she squirms, her tension rising again. "Oh yes – some other ideas. There are a few…scenarios that some past partners have enjoyed playing with me that perhaps you would also enjoy. For example, not too long ago in Midgard's history – though I suppose that is only in my estimation – it was not uncommon for those courting my favour to offer me a sacrifice." He pulls back to he can assess her reaction to that.

Jane laughs and covers her burning face with her cold hands. "I don't think I fit the bill. If you mean virgin sacrifices, I'm way past that, as you yourself know! And nobody would ever consider me beautiful enough to tempt a 'god'-"

In answer his hand moves up her thigh a bare inch, silencing her. "You already have, my dear," he points out. "Two gods, in fact," he adds, and Jane can't argue with that. "But to continue our discussion, sometimes past partners of mine enjoyed it when I…shared them with another. Tell me Jane, have you ever had more than one partner attempt to please you, at the same time?"

Jane thinks her jaw has dropped low enough to almost impact the floor this time. Loki has always struck her as borderline possessive, given that whole 'You are mine' business, so this is really the last thing she'd expect him to fantasize about.

"You have got to be kidding me," she mutters. "I have enough trouble maintaining relationships with one person, let alone two. Or more!"

He shakes his head and the corner of his mouth quirks in a smile. "Not a relationship. Another…arrangement."

"I…don't know if I could do that. If I would feel safe," she says, but she can feel the lie between her legs.

It seems that while her brain feels one way, her body is more than willing to try anything Loki suggests.

"I would not violate the trust between us by bringing in someone whom I was not absolutely sure would treat you excellently," Loki asserts, his bright eyes locked on her reddened face. "As I've said before, my goal is your pleasure."

"Please, Loki, can we not talk about this here?" Jane begs. It feels like every ounce of blood in her body is trying to cram itself into her blushing face. Surely the people around them will have noticed their intense, sexually-charged embrace by now and will be watching, though Jane doesn't dare look around to verify that.

"Why not? It is obviously exciting you." His fingertips gently stroke the inside of her thigh.

She whimpers as he kisses her hard, tongue slipping against her lips. She tells herself she should resist, that this is not the time or place, even as she allows him entry. His hand slips behind her neck, the pads of his fingers making slow caressing circles over the muscles, and the hand between her legs tugs lightly, spreading her legs wider.

She breaks the kiss, trying not to pant. "Maybe," she retorts raggedly, trying to throw him off, "one of my fantasies is to dominate you."

He laughs with delight against her mouth, and she swallows a groan as his teeth lightly pinch her lower lip. "You did please me thoroughly the last time I allowed you to subjugate me. So indeed I see no reason to deny you – nor I – such a thing. But in a future session, perhaps. For the time being, I prefer to retain control."

He takes her mouth with another deep, breath-stealing kiss. When he finally lets her go, he leans his forehead against hers, his breath falling hot and soft on her face. She's never realized before how long and dark his eyelashes are.

"I can feel your internal struggle," he says in a low soothing voice, "and it is so unfortunate and unnecessary. You Midgardians have such bizarre ideas about the simple act of intercourse. That your males may bed whomever they choose, and as many as they can. Indeed, they are encouraged to! Whereas your females may only sleep with a few carefully chosen partners, or be labeled as wanton. Or worse. Oh, you tell yourselves things have changed, and for the better, but I personally am not convinced that your attitudes as a people have changed that much. Your battle against your needs at this very moment gives the proof."

Jane raises a brow. "You're not as ignorant of our culture as you led me to believe," she accuses him. His hand moves just a little higher on her thigh and she finds her hand on top of it again, trying to stop him. Again, he doesn't push past her resistance.

"There are many things I know," he allows. "But many more that I do not. But let us not change the subject. Midgardian women are not encouraged to fully explore and express their sexuality. Oh, your entertainment media are brimming with sexuality – too much of it, even! - but how you live your own lives is completely opposite. Take this moment, for example. What harm could there be in allowing me to touch you?" His hand on her leg squeezes gently.

"It's the same reason why I don't want to have phone-sex with you at my lab!" she sputters.

He chuckles. "Surely they are not the same. There, I will grant you, Lady Darcy could stumble upon and interrupt the proceedings at any time. And no doubt that would create some discomfort between you, I will admit."

Jane shakes her head. "You think? Besides, we humans have a saying: 'You don't mix business and pleasure.'"

Loki inclines his head. "A fair point. So, no playing at your place of work. But here? None knows or cares who we are. Or truly, what we are doing. If we are careful." His grin is predatory. "In fact, it would be a simple matter for me to cast an illusion over us. Our fellow patrons will be none the wiser. No different than when you allowed me to have my way with you in that SHIELD dungeon."

Jane swallows hard but still feels very nervous about the whole thing. Even if the other people can't see, she would know. "I don't know. It's just not something I do. I'm just not that brave." She gives a short, uneasy laugh.

"Might I suggest, respectfully, my dear one," Loki urges, "that you would do better to apply several new rules to yourself? I am a God, not one of the foolish Midgardian males who passed up the chance to claim you. Could you perhaps at least consider trying those acts which you are somewhat unsure or uneasy about? If they do not cause you enjoyment, we need not ever try them again. But it is hardly logical to dismiss them out of hand, merely because they offend some misguided sense of propriety that was forced upon you by upbringing."

Jane tries to think, but it's hard to keep her rational brain going when he's this close to her, his scent all around her and his warm hand stroking her leg.

"I suppose, fine. Yes." she says, somehow thinking that might get him to back off, or to slow down, to buy her some time.

Wrong.

His lips skate across her ear. "If I might make a further suggestion, it would be this: If something feels good to you, do not stop it. You may have been reared to deny yourself pleasure, but that is entirely irrelevant. You can set those attitudes aside if you choose to." As if to illustrate his point, his hand tries to slip up her leg once more, and hers tightens around his again.

He turns his hand, grasping her sweaty one gently. "You see?" he says, "This is exactly what I am speaking of. Am I hurting you?"

"N-no," Jane whispers. She can already feel her resistance crumbling. Loki's words do have a kind of twisted logic, damn him to hell.

"Are you enjoying my touch?"

Jane closes her eyes tight. "Yes," she admits.

"Whose judgment is it that you fear? These other mortals around us are nothing to you and me. And I will see to it that they will be unable to notice what is transpiring between us. In fact-" There is a pause, and Jane imagines Loki gesturing. "It is done, though we will still need to be rather quiet."

Eyes still shut, Jane admits softly, "Maybe it's your judgment I'm afraid of."

He makes a sound of negation. "In that case, fear nothing. I have seen and catered to desires and wants of all kinds in my long years, and have indulged many of my own. It is a poor bedmate indeed, who is imprudent enough to judge his partner negatively for the things that arouse her."

He turns her face to his and kisses her, his hair tickling her face as his tongue strokes along hers. "You want to yield to me completely, I can tell," he says after pulling away. "I can feel your heart racing-" his fingers graze the side of her neck, following along the edge of his gift to her- "I can scent it on you. Do not give such battle to your desires. Let them loose."

Trembling, she makes her decision. One, she tilts her chin up, giving him access to all the places on her neck and throat that he knows she enjoys him kissing. Two, she releases her grip on his hand, and voluntarily opens her legs just a fraction wider.

It's insane, utterly insane what she's letting him do – no, what she's encouraging him to do! – but she doesn't care about that anymore. How many times has she wished she'd taken more chances in her personal and sexual life? Too many to count.

She doesn't want her fears to get in the way. If she'd allowed fear to stop her, would she have made the same gains in other areas of her life, such as with the Einstein-Rosen Bridge? Not likely.

"Yessss," he purrs encouragingly. "Place your faith in me, my Jane."

He practically attacks her neck with tongue and teeth, and Jane bites her lip hard against the whimpers rising in her throat. She fists a hand in his soft black hair and digs the fingers of her other hand into the banquette, thigh muscles tensing under his hand as it strokes slow circles up her leg.

What he'll do when he reaches her panties, she doesn't know. But the thought of what he might do both alarms and excites her.

What he does do is lightly scratch a blunt nail along the edge of her panties, along the crease where thigh and torso meet, and Jane gasps into his mouth and writhes, certain she's leaving damp marks on the seat beneath her.

His knuckles brush against the fabric that separates his flesh from hers, then his thumb circles her clit through the thin cloth. He muffles the noises that wrenches out of her with his mouth, then he pulls away completely, a calculating look on his face.

Jane blinks, now confused and aroused beyond believing. She swipes her hair out of her flushed face and frowns at him. "What are-?"

"Your inner garment is in my way," he says matter-of-factly. "Shall we remove it?"

It feels like all the blood has now rushed out of Jane's face. "You want me to take my panties off?" she asks, her voice low and shocked.

He smirks. "Is that not what I said? Yes. And be quick about it, lest I rip them asunder in my impatience to please you."

"Loki," she whispers desperately, glancing fearfully around the room before she remembers his illusion. So much for her attempt at bravery.

"You agreed to not let your fears give you pause," he points out. "And as you will no doubt recall, under the terms of our arrangement, I am in charge. I am your God and master, and I tell you now: You may go and remove your undergarments in privacy, or I will remove them myself, right here and right at this moment." His eyes challenge her, gleaming diabolically.

Stiffly, Jane slides to the end of the booth and gets to her feet. Her knees feel weak and trembly, and the clicks of her heels sound like gunshots to her. Surely everyone is staring now,illusion or not?

She manages somehow to make it to the bathroom, which is mercifully unoccupied. She stares at her face in the mirror. She's flushed and a corner of her lipstick is smudged, her pupils dark and dilated.

Slut, her negative inner voice reprimands.

Oh yeah? Well, maybe I'm tired of being the good girl. When did toeing the line ever get me anywhere?

Like Loki has pointed out so logically (and Jane loves logic, doesn't she?), where's the harm?

She wipes off the rest of her lipstick before Loki smudges it all away anyway (Is it smeared on his mouth? The notion makes her smile), she splashes water on her rosy face, and she pops into a stall and takes off her panties. Then she stops.

She has no purse, no bag. Where the heck is she supposed to put these?

But Loki is waiting, so Jane just washes her hands as quickly as she can and balls the panties up in her fist. Nobody else comes in, thank God.

Taking a deep breath and steeling herself, she pushes open the door. Loki's dessert plate is bare and he's stealing a bite of hers when Jane gets back to their table.

She scoots over next to him again and shoots him a dark glance. "That's my dessert," she informs him sharply.

He licks the spoon and eyes her up and down. "So it is. Finish yours, and then I will continue mine." His eyes dance.

She finishes the crème brulée as slowly as she dares, savouring it and the anticipation, even as her nerves crank tighter. At least Loki takes pity on her and instead of fixating his intense, hungry stare on her, he scans the room nonchalantly instead, though his hand remains on the back of her neck, idly tracing distracting little patterns over and over.

Jane finishes the last delicious bite, and Loki is curling his arm around her and invading her personal space before she's even finished pushing the plate away.

"Now, where were we?" he says conversationally, and Jane giggles nervously. "Did you do as instructed?"

Wordlessly, Jane holds up her left hand. "I had nowhere to put them-"

"A minor inconvenience," he says, taking them from her. He then folds them neatly on her lap…and then sticks them into the pocket of his blazer like a handkerchief.

Holy crap. "What are you- You really do want me to die of embarrassment, don't you?" Jane accuses him. At least they're black and fairly plain-looking. Pink butterflies and lace would stand out a lot more against his suit.

He raises a brow. "Always so quick to assign murderous intent to me?" he asks reprovingly. "No. You would not make nearly as many arousing noises if you were dead. Besides, do you not recall? None are able to bear witness right now, I saw to that."

He aborts her reply with lips and tongue and teeth, his hand sliding around her throat. It traces the edge of the snake necklace as he kisses her, before he puts his hand back under the tablecloth. "Spread your legs, little minx," he demands, his breath searingly hot on her cheek.

She does, her breath stuttering as he bunches her dress up around her waist and hooks her knee over his to spread her even wider. His other hand slips down her side, fingers grazing the side of her breast lightly. Jane squeezes her eyes shut as blood slams into her cheeks again. Nobody may be watching, assuming Loki is even telling her the truth about his illusion, but old habits die hard it seems.

His hand slides up the inside of her leg aggressively. He's not taking any prisoners this time, apparently. Then Jane blinks as his hand slides back down to her knee. Not what she expected – surprise surprise.

"Such soft, lovely skin," he hums in her ear.

"Thank you," she replies in a low voice, fisting his shirt with one hand and digging the nails of her other hand into the cushion of the banquette again.

"You have no idea," he continues, "How badly I want to tear the rest of your garments from you, lay you out on this table, and slowly savour the perfume and salt of your womanhood."

Jane clenches her jaw tightly to prevent the loud gasp that wants to escape. He won't, she's pretty sure he won't. "If this world domination thing doesn't work out for you, I think you may be able to have a solid career as a phone sex worker," she observes saucily, even as the drawn-out war between desire and modesty continues to rage within her.

He laughs silkily in her ear, then takes her mouth in another searing kiss, his hand still stroking her inner leg, teasingly slow, up and down. She doesn't even realize she's squirming, her body practically begging him. Her brain might be split, wanting and not wanting, but her flesh only wants one thing – him, inside her. Now.

Her muscles pulse and spasm, the heat inside her becoming nearly unbearable. "Please," she begs him. "Please, Loki, I need-" her throat closes on the last few words as she battles herself, but he shows her some mercy at last.

"Of course, my love," he answers, pulling her head into his shoulder to muffle her noises as he finally brushes his fingers against her wet curls. She shudders and her hips buck, her legs spreading even wider apart of their own accord.

Loki's teeth graze her collarbone, one hand squeezing her tight to him to hold her squirming body still as he explores her freely, dipping between the slickened folds. But he doesn't touch her clit, and Jane grinds her teeth, caught between delight and frustration.

She drops her hand to rub it over the straining bulge in his pants, and he hisses but doesn't relent. He works a single finger inside her, slowly and deliberately, and though Jane's head rolls back limply on her neck he cups the back of her skull with his free hand and pulls her face back to his, devouring her soft cries as the hand between her legs thrusts slowly in and out.

He pauses his motions only long enough to spill more dirty words in her ear. "How hard your nipples are," he whispers. "I can see them pressing eagerly against your clothes. How I want to strip them bare and taste them, bite them right now." He bites her earlobe instead, though not very hard. His lewd words whip the inferno inside her higher, and Jane feels her control slipping. She wants to whimper and gasp and keen, and to do it loudly.

She's so close, she realizes dimly short moments later, sweat beading on her face and neck, heat gathering all over her body. If he just touches her clit, right now, she'll almost certainly-

Instead, he withdraws his hand from her, letting it rest stickily on her knee. His other hand is still on the back of her neck, making slow soothing circles in the damp hair at her nape. Jane shakes her head like a wet dog, her thoughts scattered, her entire body throbbing, aching with need.

"Loki, please," she says, not even really aware of what she's saying.

"Oh, I'm not done with you yet, woman. Be most assured of that. Do you wish a moment to cleanse yourself before we leave?"

It seems to take Jane a long while to process what he'd said. "Sure, OK, just- just a second."

She starts to slide off the banquette, but he catches her wrist. "You are not allowed to bring yourself to climax in there," he says sternly. "If you try to satisfy yourself without my bidding, be also assured that I will know….and I will be forced to punish you most severely."

Jane shakes her head numbly. "Yeah, OK. I wasn't- wasn't even thinking of that."

Satisfied, he nods and releases her, but she can feel him watching her as she totters back to the restroom.

She cleans herself up as best she can, splashes more water on her face and rakes her damp hair back with her fingers.

Yes, she is so not thinking about anything to do with bridges or Tony Stark right now. Clever, kinky Loki.

He's standing in front of their table when she returns, taking her hand wordlessly. He doesn't even wait til they're outside; they're back in her apartment and he is scooping her up effortlessly into his arms before Jane knows what hit her.

Her logical brain is still trying to get back in the game – force of habit, maybe – and it poses the logical question: Did Loki pay for their meal? And if so, did he pay them in Asgardian gold? Jane has to giggle at the mental image of the perplexed waiter accepting a handful of coins.

Loki deposits her carefully on her bed, but adds to Jane's confusion when he doesn't join her. Instead, he uses his magic to slide a chair from the living room across the floor and to the foot of her bed, and he settles into it. He pulls off his dress shoes and stretches his long legs diagonally across a lower corner of her mattress. He looks like someone who's about to settle in to watch a movie-

"Tell me whose you are," he demands, his eyes dark and ravenous.

Jane blushes all over again – oh yes, you'd definitely think her skin would be tired of that response by now – but her voice is strong and steady when she answers. "Yours." Impishly, she can't resist adding: "And you are mine."

He half-smiles at that, but his eyes still smoulder darkly. He reaches up the bed and slips each shoe off her foot, his touch lingering warmly, and then his gaze becomes cunning.

"Pull your dress up around your waist," he orders.

Jane shakes her head slightly and bites her lip, obeying slowly.

"Don't be shy, my lovely one," he encourages her. "I have seen every inch of you before…and now I want to see again."

Jane gradually pulls her dress up, very aware that she's still wearing no panties. His intense gaze makes her want to squirm. She needs to level the playing field, just a little. "And I want to see you," she demands. She's exposed while he's covered up from neck to toe...déjà vu all over again.

"Do you?" he asks. "Well then, I shall make you a proposal, Jane Foster of Midgard. Show me how you pleasure yourself, and I will allow you to do the same with me."

Jane starts shaking her head almost by reflex alone. "Look, I, uh…I'm not used to doing things like this, OK? I'm not sure I can-"

"Not sufficient? Hm, perhaps I need to make it easier for you in a different fashion," he replies. He pulls the scarf from around his neck, balls it up and tosses it between her spread legs. "Blindfold yourself. Then you will not see me watching you."

Jane stares down at the scarf for a long moment.

"Or," Loki says regretfully, "I could merely hold you in my arms for the remainder of the evening. Perhaps you are not in fact interested in bedding me tonight." He stands.

"No!" Jane says, her previously-cheated lust rising to the fore again. Before she can change her mind, she wraps the scarf around her eyes and ties it firmly into place.

She can hear the creak of him sitting down again. And then the rasp of a zipper going down. "You will forgive me, I trust, if I attend to myself regardless?" he asks, his tone teasing.

"No- I mean, yes. Sure," Jane stammers.

"I thank you, my love. Please begin," he says.

Jane bites her lip, spreading her legs a bit wider, digging her nails into the soft bedspread.

"More," he says softly. "Let me see all."

She does, slowly. Then freezes, a blinded deer in the headlights.

There's a long, heavy silence.

"Truly, you are entirely a prisoner of your upbringing," Loki says, and she can tell he's shaking his head just by the reproaching tone in his voice. "Would it be easier for you if I direct you?"

Jane swallows with difficulty. "I guess so."

His next words are clipped, commanding. "Open your dress. Now."

Jane does, feeling inexplicably relieved.

"Now remove your breast-binding."

She takes her dress off completely, then the bra, tossing both away. She's not sure why this is easier for her, but it is. She's still on display, but her audience is hidden, and she is doing his bidding, not revealing herself. But what would be so bad about revealing how she likes to touch herself?

She doesn't know the answer to that question.

She hears him shift in the chair. Is he stroking himself? She tries to picture it in her mind.

"Caress yourself," is his next order. "Start at your throat. Then slide your hands down."

Her hands are chilly when she tilts her head back on the pillows and allows her fingertips to stroke down the sides of her neck. She lets them skim along her collarbones, then down the top of her chest, finally reaching the starting swells of her breasts.

"Cup yourself," he commands, and she does.

"Your nipples are already tight, my dear. Do they ache to be touched?"

Jane whimpers a little. "Y-yes."

"Good. Do so. Tease them."

Driven by need, she pinches and tugs each nipple, lightly at first, and then harder. Her hips twist against the bed and she feels growing wetness between her legs.

"Lovely," he says in an approving growl, which spurs Jane to roll her nipples between her fingers, to wriggle down a little further on the bed. Her pulsebeat races, and she can feel the heat climbing through her, gathering now in her chest and face as well as in her belly and core.

"Now slide your hands lower."

She does, after giving each nipple a final squeeze. She sweeps each hand down either side of her belly, brushing over the slight rise of her navel, and finally stops, each hand caressing the little creases on either side of her sex.

"Wider," he rumbles urgently. "I want to see, I told you."

Jane doesn't even hesitate to comply. It doesn't even seem to matter any longer if it's her hands or his. She aches and she needs.

She spreads her thighs as wide as she comfortably can.

"Much better, my wanton little vixen. Now part those lovely petals and show me all as you please yourself."

She whimpers but obeys again. She's soaking and slippery, her head tilting back on the pillows once more and her breath caught in her throat as she follows the edges of each fold, then strokes tiny circles on the inner surface of each. She starts to slip her fingers up towards her clit-

"No," he barks, voice like a lash. "Place those fingers inside you instead. I will attend to the centre of your pleasure…when it suits me."

Christ, he's evil. Fleetingly, she considers disobeying, but pushing two fingers deep inside herself feels good enough for the moment. She moves them in and out quickly, though she stops sometimes to rub them against sensitive places on her inner walls.

Blinded behind the scarf, she loses herself to pleasure, forgetting where she is and that anyone is watching. Forgetting even his command, her thumb slips across her swollen little bud, and she shudders, right at the edge of the abyss-

He catches her wrist instantly and stills her hand. "I-I'm sorry," she stutters, realizing too late her mistake. He's naked to the waist now – when did that happen? – and she can feel his warm flesh pressed against her hot damp skin.

He leans to her ear, soft hair brushing over her face and cheek. "I am sure you are. And I am loathe to punish you when you are working so hard to please me. You have no idea," he adds in a lower, even more intimate tone, "how beautiful you are right now."

Jane's not sure what to say to that. "Uh, thank you?"

"Hm," is his answer. A second later she can feel him moving on the bed, probably kneeling between her legs, and he gently tugs her fingers out from inside her…and puts them into his mouth instead. Jane moans as he sucks and licks her hand clean. When he slides his tongue between each finger, Jane could swear she feels it between her legs instead, and she whimpers again. "Please," she groans.

He laughs softly. "Begging already?" She feels his weight shift over to one side of the bed, but he doesn't release her hand.

Jane blinks in surprise as he starts to wind a rope around her wrist. There's no magical snakes-into-ropes trick this time, no holding her down just by magic. No, this feels like a conventional rope, and he's taking his time, winding it unhurriedly around her limb, making sure it isn't too tight, and then securing her arm to the bedframe.

He moves across her, chest brushing across her stiff nipples, and does the same thing to her other wrist. "You must think me so cruel," he comments softly as he binds her, "making you wait. But the rewards will be great."

Jane's throat works but nothing intelligible forms in her head. He kisses her gently, then moves to bind her ankles to each corner of the bed in the same leisurely, almost relaxed fashion.

She can feel the heavy bulge of him pressing into her thigh as he leans over her again. He's still wearing his pants, and Jane tries to brace herself for more slow teasing torture.

"Loki, please," she groans again. How can he still smell like leather when he isn't wearing any? her distracted brain asks.

"Hush," he kisses her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. His weight shifts and he presses a kiss into the palm of one of her imprisoned hands, then more slow, wet kisses trail down her arm, right down to a breast.

She arches as much as she can into his touch, as he nips and suckles lightly on one nipple, his hand toying with the other.

He slips down even further, and Jane can't stop a sigh of relief when he settles between her helpless legs. Surely now he'll touch her, tease her clit, let her come-

But there's only a single soft swipe of his tongue along the entrance to her body, and then he is off the bed completely. Jane groans out a couple choice curses, and then a few new ones she makes up on the spot just for the occasion. She can feel sweat trickling down her temples and under her arms, the ache between her legs throbbing painfully. He's going to kill her with frustration, that's all there is to it.

She hears him leave the room, and Jane tugs hard on her bonds, confused and now a little nervous as well. What is he up to?

She's pretty sure she hears the door to the apartment open and then close again after a long moment, and she stiffens. That…can't be good. Did he leave her like this, helpless and alone?

But no, there's a rustle of cloth back at the foot of the bed, and then Loki circles around to the side, sitting on the edge and leaning over her.

"My dear Jane," he says, his voice taking on a velvety note, "I promise I will see to your needs. But first, I wish you to yield to me completely. To do something we spoke of earlier this night." Gentle fingers trace the slope of her breast then flick lightly at her nipple, and Jane groans.

She furrows her brow, struggling to remember despite the distraction he's providing. To let him turn female and have sex with her? To use one of his Asgardian toys? Honestly at this point she thinks she'll agree to anything, if he'll just let her finally fucking come.

"Yes, yes, goddamn it," she says, before her brain can stop her mouth. "Please, just don't tease me any-"

That's when a second pair of hands touches her. They settle firmly on her inner thighs, stroking.

Jane shrieks in surprise and jerks against her bonds, but she can't escape. Her eyes open wide, uselessly pleading behind the blindfold. She's totally naked and open and exposed, at the mercy of Loki and…a stranger.

"Loki," she speaks shakily around the lump in her throat, "please, I can't-"

"But you agreed, my love," he points out, his tone reasonable and soothing. He rolls her nipple gently and leans down, lips feathering across her ear.

Jane is quaking now, adrenaline coursing through her system. She tries to block out the sensation of the hands on her legs, still caressing her, and of Loki's hand still playing with her breast, trying to think. "Not fair-" she argues. "I didn't know what I was agreeing to!"

"Are you resisting because you are afraid of harm, or resisting because you think that you should? If it is the former, fear nothing," he says softly, his hand smoothing wet strands of hair away from her face and neck. "As I said earlier, I would never select any partner whom I believed capable of harming you in any way. In fact, I have informed my 'ally' of the techniques which will best please you, and what manner of things you do not enjoy. And if it is the latter, that you are resisting because of your upbringing, well…we discussed that at length earlier. Have you not enjoyed yielding to me thus far this night?"

Jane's voice shakes, but she's not going to start lying now. "Yes," she admits softly.

"This is a challenge for you, but it is no different than anything else we have done this night. Or indeed, any other bedgame that we have played so far."

He's right, of course. How many times has he pushed close to her limits? Covering her with snakes, hunting her through an illusory forest, having sex with her on a dream-throne while a dream-Thor watches, seducing her and binding her in the SHIELD jail?

He's probably thinking of the same acts.

"One constant remains: I have never harmed you. Nor do I intend to start now. So, show me that your trust in me is total; surrender yourself completely to us." He presses kisses along the line of her jaw, even as the other person's hands caress her softly, moving up her trembling legs.

I trust him, I do, she thinks. But this…this is…If she says no, he'll stop, she knows he will. But does she really want him to? How many other opportunities will she have to do something so wild and, well, different from how she normally acts?

"What is your decision, my dear?" Loki asks. His hand is still cupping her breast, and his other arm must be braced on the pillows over her head; she can feel his fingers lightly caressing her hair. He exhales against her damp neck, and the coolness makes her want to squirm.

She turns her head blindly towards him. "You'll stop if I want you to? If I change my mind later?" she asks, voice still weak and shaky.

He kisses her. "Of course, my Jane. That also is constant. Does that mean you are agreeing, then?"

"Yes," she replies softly. Then she tilts her head back, offering up her neck. Offering everything.

He growls something low against her throat, teeth pressing into her skin, though not hard enough to mark her. Every nerve in Jane's body seems to come alight, hypersensitive to every touch as the other hands slide to either side of her throbbing core.

Loki shifts lower, both hands now holding her breasts and pressing them together so he can move easily from nipple to nipple, suckling hard on each one, and Jane bucks and makes a strangled noise as the other hands between her legs splay her folds apart, and a fingertip circles her clit slowly, deliberately.

Fingers fill her, stimulate her, and something slick – tongue, thumb, she doesn't even know – finally, finally gives her what she needs, massaging her clit. Every muscle inside and outside clenches and strains, and a long keen is pulled from her lungs as she comes so hard she nearly blacks out.

She's still panting and shuddering, slumped against her bindings when Loki speaks again. "Did you enjoy that, my dear?" She manages somehow to nod. "Good. But my ally and I barely got to taste you. We must rectify that."

They move around her, until Jane is no longer sure which is Loki and which is….who could he have brought in? Who does he trust that much?

Thor? her brain asks. But she pushes that thought away. Even if it's true that Thor would never ever hurt her, she's sure Thor is the last person in the universe whom Loki would want to share her with.

Four hands take possession of her, driving all logical thought away. They stroke her all over with gentle fingers, and soon Jane is squirming and straining again.

They do not speak, but somehow they coordinate their efforts; one mouth claims hers in a feverish kiss while the other nips and nibbles the side of her neck.

They switch their posts, and then they attend to her breasts, warmth and wetness bathing each nipple at the same time, and Jane writhes, overwhelmed.

Jane's felt something akin to this before, when Loki caressed her entire body with his illusory snakes. This is similar, if only just slightly less overstimulating. Too many pleasure-signals are crowding into her brain, shutting down all higher thought, turning her into one writhing, twisting, drowning collection of sensation.

The twin mouths nip hard and then soothe the pain away with gentler touches, their hands roaming all over her, exploring and testing, teasing. She's almost grateful that her sight is gone, and that the only sounds are of her noises, plus the occasional wet noise of a mouth on her skin, the muted dry noise of flesh rubbing against flesh…she's in full-on sensory overload as it is.

One solid male body shifts down and settles between her thighs, and the other stations itself around the level of her hips. She's not sure she's ever been so wet before.

"I see you are enjoying our attentions," Loki's voice drifts up to her, but she's not sure which of her partners is him. A gentle fingertip slips along her folds, spreading the slickness around, and her hips jerk.

They resume working her, and Jane's nails dig into her palms, her spine going rigid at the sensation of not one, but two famished mouths on her. One tongue twirls around her clit, pressing and lapping, and another mouth is lower, at the entrance to her body, licking her, slipping into her.

Hands spread her folds wider as they tease her relentlessly, and sensation pulses through her entire body, she feels hot and cold at the same time, and finally her entire body freezes – lungs, throat, muscles, skin – everything locked in an arched pose of total ecstasy, before she screams and dissolves into orgasm.

The delirium recedes, but slowly. She's free, her arms and legs no longer bound, but she's as pliable as a rag doll, unable to resist as they pose her the way they want. She's on her side now, one warm body pressed tightly against her back, an erection pressing into the back of her leg like a bar of pulsing steel.

Loki's voice sounds in her ear again. "I would wager you have at least one more climax to give this night," he chuckles, voice low and husky. He's the one behind her, as far as she can tell.

Jane blinks rapidly behind the blindfold, trying to restore some sense to her addled brain.

The stranger is still in bed with them; his body presses against her front, with strong, lean hands trapping her wrists against his belly. She can feel his arousal, too, the head pressed against her fingers, and he's just as turned on as Loki.

"Hold her still while I prepare myself," Loki orders the mystery guest. Jane feels Loki roll away from her, and then there's the familiar sound of foil ripping. She feels a small measure of relief; at least that aspect of their 'arrangement' hasn't changed.

Though an unsettling thought occurs – will Loki allow, or even demand, that the other man also have intercourse with her? The thought makes her shiver, torn between too many emotions to be able to even identify one.

Loki crowds against her back again, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the side of her neck as his hand pulls her thigh upward. The person in front of her shifts his grip, holding her wrists firmly with one hand while his other slips between her thighs, parting her inner lips to ease Loki's way into her, his palm rubbing against her sweet spot and forcing a moan from her.

Loki thrusts hard into her, pushing her forward into the other man's chest, and Jane makes a noise that sounds rather like a squeal. Loki laughs in her ear and pulls out quickly, before thrusting back inside her just as ruthlessly.

Even if Jane wanted to resist coming again, it would be impossible. The stranger isn't idle, his mouth busy with her breasts, suckling and tugging. And as Jane's cries rise in pitch, his hand continues to rub her clit in firm circles that make her inner muscles clench even tighter around Loki.

She's seconds away from another bout of ecstasy when the stranger pulls his hand away, and Jane wants to shriek in frustration. But just then the blindfold is pulled from her eyes. She squints as she tries to focus. The face of the stranger in front of her is pale, dark-haired.

Oh my God, it's Loki.

Somehow, he fooled her. It's the stranger who's deep inside her right now, still thrusting but at a less frantic pace-

Jane twists her head back to look over her shoulder at…another Loki.

"Wh-what the f-?" She can't even complete the sentence.

Both Lokis laugh. "Forgive me," purrs the one behind her, "but I have waited patiently all night to empty myself into that delectable quim of yours."

Did he just say…quim? Jane doesn't know whether to laugh or…well, laugh.

Loki thrusts inside her again and all other desires are washed away. The Loki in front of her now strokes himself, watching hungrily, and then blows Jane's mind completely by positioning himself so the head of his cock is pressed against her clit. He rubs it against her in a way that forces every last rational thought right out of her mind, and as the Loki behind her goes rigid and grunts, releasing his passion at last, the Loki in front of her now presses the underside of his shaft between her legs, thrusting against her belly and stroking his shaft against her clit, and Jane's entire body seems to disappear. There's only spasm and heat and the boundaries between all of their bodies shifting and blending together into one.

Jane floats, blissfully, for a long time. When she opens her eyes at last – heck, she hadn't even realized they had been closed! – there's only one Loki in bed with her now, spooning with her, hands gently massaging her.

Slowly, lethargically, she turns until she can face him. "That was…" she shakes her head.

"Wonderful, dare I hope?" he asks, but smugly, hands caressing her back.

"Hell, yes. If you're trying to stop me from building my Bifröst by killing all my brain cells, I'd say that was a pretty effective means."

He snorts derisively. "Hardly. I am sure your intellect is quite safe." He pulls her firmly to him and rolls until she is cradled on his chest.

"That was quite a trick," she says sleepily.

"Indeed," he agrees. "A trick which is useful in more than one setting, I have found," he adds, though he does not elaborate.

"One thing I don't get, though - why bother opening the apartment door? And all that business about 'telling your ally what I like'? Why make me think it was another man-" Jane sits up and glares at him, though it's half-hearted at best. "Oh, I get it. Mind-fucking me."

He smirks. "God of Mischief, my love. I am afraid it comes with the territory."

Jane sighs, but he's right, isn't he? Her brain repeats the litany of things he's done that have tested her limits in the past: Covering her with snakes, hunting her through an illusory forest, having sex with her on a dream-throne…"Can I at least ask why?"

His arms tighten around her, draw her back down to him. She feels him shrug as he weighs his words. "Frankly, because I enjoy it. Also, in my vast experience momentary anxiety – a small amount – yields great rewards later. Do you deny that the tricks I pulled on you tonight did not add a touch of…spice? Did it not increase your pleasure, once you overcame your fear?"

Jane shakes her head and sighs. "No, I don't deny it. I just don't always find it…comfortable."

He's silent for another long moment. "This is who I am. However, as I also said, if you do not find pleasure in something we are doing, we need not do such again. I am nothing if not adaptable."

Jane shakes her head. "No, I'm not saying to change who you are. But maybe I'd like a little less of a…challenge next time?"

"Understandable. I do not require to play the trickster all the time." His arms squeeze her a little tighter as he smirks down at her.

"You can do pretty much anything, can't you?" she asks. The realism of his clone had been…remarkable.

She can feel his answering shrug. "I am a master of magic and illusion. This you know. Though I admit, if put to it, that I much prefer to use my magic for …pleasurable pursuits, such as this one."

Jane smiles. "Despite the tough moments, I'm not complaining. Overall this was quite a memorable – and enjoyable – celebration. Thank you."

"You are quite welcome." He pulls her up for a deep, slow kiss. "Sleep, my Jane."

That's one order she has absolutely no qualms about obeying.

Two days later Jane finds herself in New York, meeting with Tony Stark at his famed – and still under reconstruction – Stark Tower.

She still hasn't quite worked up the nerve to dress a little more casually, and it amuses her how Pepper gives her a slight nod of approval, while Tony looks equal parts amused and exasperated at her formal dress when they both meet her at the Tower's helipad.

"Dr. Foster," Tony says, shaking her hand. "Glad you could make it. Would you like the ten-cent tour?"

"Sure," Jane says with a grin.

"Then I'll just leave you in Tony's capable hands, if you don't mind," says Pepper. "I have a lot of work to do right now, and besides, I wouldn't want to get in the way of your tech-talk." She shakes hands with Jane, winks at Tony, and then strides away so confidently on her high heels that Jane envies her.

"Doctor?" Tony asks, holding his elbow out for her to take.

"I thought we were on first-name basis," Jane points out, doing just that.

"So we are," he remembers. "Jane, then."

The place is impressive, even if it's still only two-thirds rebuilt, though that only serves to remind Jane that Loki's army had caused the damage.

If he is aware of her discomfort, Tony says nothing. Soon Jane is too delighted to dwell on the negative – the R&D department is a scientist's wet dream. So much space, so many computers, so many technicians…

"Wow, this is amazing!" she gushes, as they turn into another room. She stops dead, looking at the wall of Iron Man suits. He's brought her into his own personal lab space?

"Prototypes," he says almost dismissively, waving at them. "None of them actually work – I keep all of the successful ones at my Malibu beachhouse. Can't bear to trash these ones, though – never know when tinkering with them might give me some new ideas."

Jane nods. "I've got a similar problem with old notes and equations, old equipment. You never know, right?"

Tony grins at her. "I'll bet the corners of your lab look like a tornado hit it."

Jane grins right back. "You have no idea. Until I hired Darcy, anyway. She may not get the science, but she knows how to organize, when she's motivated enough. Slipping on fallen papers and almost breaking her neck two or three times was enough for her."

"Maybe I should hire her, myself," Tony jokes. "Here, let me show you the room where you'll be working." He leads her to the elevator and they go down about two floors, then turn into a large room. It's at the edge of the Tower and so is ringed by windows, and there's already a whiteboard, a smartboard, and a bank of computers poised and apparently waiting for her.

"Jarvis!" Tony says loudly. "Say hi to our new colleague, Dr. Jane Foster."

"Doctor Foster," says a disembodied voice, its clipped tones eerily reminiscent of Loki's. "Welcome."

"That's Jarvis. He's the resident computer 'round here. You want to run a simulation or plot a planet's gravitational pull or whatever, Jarvis is your man. Well, sort of." Tony pats a bank of monitors almost fondly.

"OK," Jane replies.

"Here, I'll show you the interface. It's pretty user-friendly, though," Tony says, motioning her over.

It is pretty easy. Even Jane, who isn't all that computer-savvy, knows how to talk and gesture after all.

There is one obvious thing missing from these rooms, though. "Can I ask you a question, Mr. Stark?"

"An uncomfortable one, I'd guess," he says, noticing her return to formality.

"It's just that, I kind of expected you might have Loki's portal – from the Battle of Manhattan – here. Or just a simulation of it on the computer? It was a working model, and it could at least give me some idea as to whether I'm on the right track or not."

"SHIELD has it sequestered somewhere, hopefully in several thousand pieces. Honestly, Jane, I don't really like alien tech anyway. I prefer to rely on good ol' All-American know-how. I realize how easy it must be to second-guess yourself, especially after all the other scientists have been making fun of your ideas over the years-"

Jane feels her face turn predictably red. "It didn't help," she agrees. "It's a good thing I'm stubborn."

"Sure is," Tony says. "My Dad used to say the same about me. But anyway, my point is that I don't think you need the alien portal; I'll put my money on you and your theories regardless." He cocks his head. "Can I ask you a probably-uncomfortable question?"

"OK," Jane says cautiously.

"Loki was the one who got Selvig to build him that portal. So why isn't he helping – if not forcing – you?" Tony's question isn't accusing, but his eyes search her face shrewdly.

Jane frowns. "To be honest I…never really thought about that. We don't talk about my work that much, like I told you the other day. Up until recently I didn't even really want to know what had happened back then, I guess." She shakes her head at how weak that sounds. "He was being…good to me, and I guess I didn't want to face the fact that he'd done evil, and therefore the possibility that the way he was being with me might all be an act. But once I heard him telling his story to Fury-" She stops and shrugs.

"I know how it sounds," she starts to say, resigned to the idea of Tony kicking her out then and there.

But he's shaking his head. "No, no judgment here. Lord knows I've made my share of bad decisions when it comes to relationships – I'm sure Pepper has a list of them somewhere."

Jane smiles a little. "Then again, I don't know if Loki really needs to build one for himself," she continues. "He managed to get here somehow from Asgard, even though we know their Bifröst isn't operational yet….Wait," Jane says as a new thought occurs to her: "Erik built Loki's portal once, so…couldn't he build it again?" Would he want to? asks the doubting little voice.

"SHIELD's tried, trust me. They asked, but Doc Selvig said he didn't remember squat. He tried anyway, I think, for a week or two, once Fury gave him some pep talk about world security or something, but no dice. Rumour is that Loki's magic wiped the Doc's memory of those key details after he was released from mind-control. Even if Loki had won the Battle, I doubt he'd want to chance having a single human around who was capable of bringing over reinforcements from Asgard."

Despite the fact that Jane believes in Loki, and believes him – I do, she insists to herself – she can't help wondering what would have happened to her had Loki won that day. Would he have razed every country to the ground until he'd found the base in Tromsø where SHIELD had tucked her away? And if he had captured her then, what would have been her fate at his hands?

The negative little voice laughs mockingly. Not much different from now, maybe? Except he'd have kept you naked (or maybe in a metal bikini, à la Princess Leia) and chained up permanently on your knees. But who knows, probably you'd have liked that.

Jane shoves the thought away and straightens her shoulders. "Well," she tries, keeping her voice calm and bright. "Maybe I should get started, then? As long as you still approve. I wouldn't blame you if you've changed your mind, Mr. Stark."

Tony studies her for a long moment, then smiles. "Like I said, I'll put my money on you. Shall we make arrangements to ship your research equipment and notes over here?"

Jane agrees, and they go to Pepper's office to work out the details, Jane silently reflecting to herself that she has some uncomfortable questions for a certain God of Mischief.

Also a fair share of guilt, because how much would Erik love to be in on this project, now that it might finally end up somewhere – literally? She really needs to go talk to him, to try to apologize to him again.

Jane has supper alone that night, her brain once again buzzing with excitement and details to work out. Tony wants Jane and Darcy to work out of Stark Tower, and though Jane had said yes earlier, now she wonders how exactly this will all work.

Darcy probably won't mind moving into Stark Tower for the duration – the furnished apartments Pepper had shown Jane had sure been impressive! – but Jane is less certain. She's just starting to get used to this place. Heck, she hasn't even had a chance to fully unpack yet!

And there's also the problem of Loki.

Jane doesn't feel all that comfortable seeing Loki while literally under Tony's roof (isn't it the exact place where Loki had been defeated?), and she doubts Loki or Tony will be happy either.

But given neither Fury nor Tony had asked her to stop seeing Loki, Jane figures who or what she does on her own time is her business. She promised not to discuss the specifics of Stark-Foster with Loki, and that's fine, but that's as far as it goes.

After some thought, Jane supposes the best option would be to ask Loki if he is willing to use his teleportation magic to shuttle her between New York and Puente Antiguo each day. It's not ideal, but she thinks he'll like that idea better than only seeing her on weekends, or having to meet on Stark's territory.

She'll need to find a neutral place close to Stark Tower for them to meet up, and for Loki to teleport her to and from…could that work?

As the sky outside darkens, she knows she doesn't want to spend the rest of the night alone. But that means confronting Loki, and now not only does she have some uncomfortable questions for him, but there's also these new working arrangements to negotiate.

Finally she sighs and climbs up to the roof again. The light pollution in Puente Antiguo isn't as bad as in a big city, and she can pick out many of her favourite constellations quickly and easily.

This time she doesn't even need to summon Loki. Five minutes after she settles into her deck chair, there's that change in air pressure that she's become familiar with, and he's folding his tall bulk into the chair next to hers.

It's chilly in the desert at night, and she doesn't protest when he gently pulls her into his lap and wraps his arms around her.

"Another productive day?" he asks, his breath warming the crown of her head.

Jane nods slowly. Best to just jump in right away. Hasn't failed her yet, right? "Can I ask you something, Loki?"

He raises a brow. "Have I ever stopped you before?" he counters calmly.

"It's about the portal you had Erik build," she says quietly. His body stiffens against hers, but his voice sounds almost disinterested when he answers.

"Ask."

"If you know how to build one, why not…do it?"

"But I do not know, my Jane. Like the Bifröst itself, such magic – or science, if you prefer – is beyond me. The knowledge given to Dr. Selvig came directly from the Tesseract itself."

Jane lets out a slow breath. It sounds reasonable to her. "The more I hear about this Tesseract, the happier I am that I never actually got to use it to fuel my Bridge. I'm no judge, but it sounds like the darkest of magic."

Loki shakes his head, hair brushing Jane's cheek. "The Tesseract is not evil. Like all magic, it is neutral. The nature of the magic depends on who uses it."

"OK," Jane says slowly. Again, it seems logical. "Then how did you get here without a Bifröst, if you didn't build your own portal?"

"Yggdrasil is full of hidden pathways, links between one place and the next, bends in space and time. They are not obvious to those without the sight to see them, but to a mage such as I…" Loki shrugs.

Jane nods and snuggles closer to Loki, staring up at the stars wheeling slowly overhead.

"What would you have done if you had won the Battle of Manhattan?" she asks softly after long minutes.

She feels him startle a little at her question. "I would not have. I saw to it."

"But if you had?" she pressed gently. Why does she care so much? Because she wants so badly to hear him say that ultimately he never would have hurt her, regardless of the circumstances under which they first met?

"I would not have. Your Doctor Selvig was there, conveniently poised near the portal to turn it off once someone – even me, surreptitiously, if necessary - prized him from the grip of the staff. Or the metal man with whom you are working would have realized the power in his heart-star is sister enough to the Tesseract's power to close the gate. Perhaps Thor would have found a way to close the gate, or murdered all who came through it. Or," Loki hesitates, as if he can predict her objection, "your Midgardian authorities would have unleashed their weapons on the city. One bomb alone was enough to destroy the source of the Chitauri army. I am sure it would have done much the same on the Midgardian side of the portal."

"And everyone would have died," Jane protests sharply.

Loki gives a long-suffering sigh. "One city lost, but your planet saved. I know that does not please you. Nor would it have pleased me, in truth, but sometimes we must do what is necessary, rather than what is preferable." He shakes his head, then catches her chin and looks her directly in the eyes. "I was forced to leave many things to chance – I had no choice – but in the end, there were many avenues through which my defeat was assured. So no, I will not speculate what I would have done with my victory – it was never to come to pass."

"OK," Jane agrees. "I was…just wondering."

It sounds lame in her ears, but Loki nods and seems satisfied. He pulls her closer, and they stare up at the stars again. Jane wonders if Loki can somehow see Asgard, or would even want to. Is he starting to think of Earth as his home?

Or perhaps a better question is: Could he?

Speaking of home- "There's something else we need to talk about. Stark wants me to work in New York for the foreseeable future…"

Jane slinks across the stage, moving her hips in time to the music. The lights glare into her eyes so that she can barely see her audience, but it doesn't matter. He is here again, and he's really the only person she's dancing for.

He's been here every night since she can remember. Dark suit, white shirt, pale skin. Black hair, slicked back but curling at the ends, as if his hair is trying to escape confinement. She's never heard his voice, but those dark eyes speak volumes to her as they watch her gyrations so closely.

She's wearing a schoolgirl outfit for this particular performance. She grasps the pole and swings herself slowly around, then comes to a stop in front of Dark Suit, as she has come to call him in her mind. She twirls a pigtail and pops a button on her white blouse, ignoring the catcalls and whistles from all the other faceless patrons in the audience. They seem to recede and fade, until there's only him.

She opens another two buttons, slowly, meeting his eyes as she gets down on her knees and crawls slowly towards him, in time to the slow pulse of the music, her sultry gaze matching his smouldering one.

His gaze tracks down her face, then lower, getting an eyeful of cleavage. She watches the way his tongue darts out to moisten his thin lips.

She crawls forward until she's almost at the edge of the stage, then she sits back on her heels, unbuttoning the shirt completely. Smirking, she tosses it to Dark Suit. He catches it easily, a leer on his handsome face now.

Jane rises and walks slowly back to the middle of the stage, timing each gliding step to the music. She hooks her leg around the pole and spins around it once more, then stops and leans her back on the pole as she gradually lowers the zipper of her little pleated miniskirt.

She drops it on the ground and turns away from the audience, moving her hips in a slow wide circle, making sure Dark Suit gets a good view of her emerald green lingerie before she starts to remove that.

She turns to face the front again, then sashays slowly towards him. May as well give Dark Suit a good close-up view.

Elegantly, he pulls something out of his jacket pocket and holds it up. Smirking, Jane lets him tuck it into the top of her black stocking, noticing how dexterous those pale, long fingers are.

She glances down and notices it's not money, though. Huh?

The lights and music suddenly cut out, leaving her in total silence and darkness. She turns, disoriented, and then finds herself alone backstage, not knowing how she got there. Blinking in the dim lighting, she pulls the slip of paper out of her stocking and opens it to reveal a note written in an elaborate script: 'May I request the pleasure of a private dance? – Loki'.

The thought of doing that for him makes desire spike in her belly. And just as she thinks it, there she is in the private room. There's a padded chair, but also a padded booth and a small table, and there sits Dark Suit – no, Loki – himself. Slouched down, legs spread wide, and his eyes devouring her every move.

"My lady," he says, inclining his head towards her. Such overblown manners, even when it's obvious from the heat in his gaze and the restless twitch in his hands that he wants her.

She smiles and struts over to stand between his legs. "Loki," she says, tasting the strange name in her mouth. She lets her thigh brush against his, then bends until their faces are level – given his height, even seated, Jane doesn't need to bend very much at all.

She leans to his ear, letting their cheeks graze against each other. "I've seen you around more than once," she whispers. "How long have you been watching me?"

"Long enough to kindle a fire in my loins which only you can extinguish," he purrs roughly. "If you so choose, of course, Jane."

She furrows her brow as she pulls back – did someone tell him her real name? – but she shakes her head as she goes to turn on the music. Something slow, low, and sultry. She decides she doesn't care that he knows her name. He's dangerous, yes, but somehow not in that way.

Jane stalks slowly back to Loki, placing light hands on his knees and sliding them slowly up along his thighs. His fingers press into the cushions on either side of him, his dark gaze stopped on her cleavage again.

She turns and seats herself in his lap, pressing herself back against the bulge in his pants, moving her hips in tight circles. She flips her hair back, well aware of how it will fall, light and ticklish over his head and face, and she pretends not to notice how his hands are now on her hips, warm and grazing lightly over the bones. The fire banked within her is building fast.

She wheels and faces him again, their faces inches apart. "I don't always take my clothes off in private dances. But I want to, this time. Can I trust you to be a gentleman?"

He laughs softly. "That would depend on your definition of 'gentleman', would it not? If you mean, will I be able keep my hands to myself? Unlikely. If you mean will I make you peak so hard that you will see constellations you never before imagined, then yes. But again, only if you so choose." His eyes glitter dangerously at her, threaten to consume her whole.

Jane swallows hard but she can't deny she wants this. Moth to a flame, and she wants to be consumed.

She doesn't answer him, not verbally, but she walks a pace or two away and reaches behind her, unhooking her bra and tossing it to him. It almost undoes her when he lifts it to his nose and breathes in the scent of her skin, his eyes burning into hers.

"Come here," he says, his voice a gravel-edged purr that makes her want to go to her knees.

So she does, crawling back toward him, though it's more like a prowl. Strong hands wrap around her upper arms like manacles as soon as she is close enough, and she is lifted into Loki's lap as if she is no heavier than a feather.

Rough hands find her breasts as they kiss, rolling and squeezing her nipples, her moans muffled by his tongue. His hands are colder than she expects, and her nipples throb.

He doesn't just break the kiss; he grabs her shoulders and pulls them roughly apart, his teeth scraping against her as he starts kissing (if it could be called that) her neck. Jane moans and twines her fingers in his hair.

He does the same to her, catching her hair and pulling it enough to cant her head back at an almost-uncomfortable angle as his mouth sears its way down her breasts.

He nips each one, then he picks her up with an inhuman speed and puts her down on the room's small table. His eyes rake down her body, lingering on the bruises adorning her neck. Jane feels a sharp tug and gasps, her panties coming apart as he ruthlessly rips them from her.

Loki pulls the table closer to the banquette, then sits down and pulls on her hips until his face is positioned between her quivering thighs. He trails a single finger down the length of her sex, from clit to her entrance. "So very wet for me," he murmurs huskily, barely allowing Jane time to even out her breaths before he buries his head between her legs.

Her head hangs off the edge of the table, her nails digging into cheap wood veneer as he works her hard. He sucks on her clit, over and over, pulling it briefly into his mouth and letting it go each time. Jane pants and twists, but he won't let her escape the agonizing pleasure. Then he takes the little nub in his mouth and sucks on it while flicking his tongue around it, gently at first but then more aggressively, long fingers applying pressure from inside her, and noise spills from her arched throat.

He stops just as her muscles start to tighten. "Not yet," he snarls. "I want to feel your body clench around me." Jane struggles to raise her head as there is the unmistakable rasp of a zipper going down, but her neck muscles are too weak.

A strong hand wraps around the back of her neck, supporting her and pulling her closer to him as he pushes hard inside her. She cries out and his gaze shifts from their joining to her face, scorching her like burning embers.

He shoves inside her, over and over, one hand still around her neck like a collar, the other reaching between them to play with a nipple here, to press her clit there, and she can't stop her climax even if she wanted to, waves of fire racing through her, building, cresting-

As she falls screaming over the edge she realizes he was right – she is seeing stars-

Jane wakes sweaty and disoriented, blinking at the darkness around her. She first notices the headboard of the bed – her bed, she realizes, as sanity returns – then she fumbles for her watch under the pillow. 3:02am. She turns and looks to her side, expecting the bed to be empty of anyone except her.

But no, a pale, firmly-muscled chest meets her gaze. Loki hasn't left, he's still here, and he seems to be asleep. His face is more relaxed, vulnerable, and calm than it ever is when he's awake. There's something so sad about that.

She resists the urge to touch him and disturb that peace. Unless- is he faking? Her dream comes back to her with a clarity that makes her tingle.

He had invited her to come up with fantasy scenarios for them to enact, and now here she is, dreaming of stripping and dancing for him? It can't be a coincidence, can it?

But if he is awake and messing with her dreams, he is playing the sleeper very well – or has an amazing illusion over himself – with his deep, slow breaths, even a mild little snore here and there.

Then Jane wonders if it's possible that he is somehow, even asleep, influencing her dreams. But he seems too calm, too relaxed to have just been participating in such a wild dream. Not that Jane is an expert on such things. Still, she can't resist peeking under the covers. No, he's not even slightly aroused….again, unless what she's seeing is illusion.

She shakes her head at herself. Will she ever get over doubting him? She's started to get annoyed about that even with herself.

Jane rolls over and tries to turn her thoughts to other things. Well, anything except the Stark-Foster Project, because thinking about that will no doubt wreck any chance of getting any more sleep that she has.

She finds herself thinking instead about the dream, replaying it in her mind. Dare she ask him to create that kind of scenario?

Jane considers it for a long moment, but then shakes her head again. As intriguing as it would be, she's just not that confident! No illusion in the world is going to erase her natural awkwardness and turn her into some slinky sex kitten. And, hot dream aside, that's not a role that has ever really appealed to her.

There have to be other things she can suggest. Yes, maybe one of the ideas he floated in the restaurant. Or maybe something related to Norse mythology? That could be interesting, and it would kill two birds with one stone – not only would she get ideas for bedroom play, but it would give her something else to talk about with Loki, something safe. She's pretty sure he'll enjoy picking apart the human versions of these myths, telling her everything that's wrong about them, and maybe in telling her what's right, she'll learn more about him and Asgard.

Yes, she definitely needs to do some research on this. That is, after all, what she does best.

Loki materializes in the desert a short distance from what he has come to think of as 'Jane's city'. It is early morning, and though Jane has much work to do this day at her laboratory, in preparation to work with the metal man, Loki knows she is not there, not yet.

She'd said she was going to go and speak to Selvig first, and though it is tempting to listen to them, Loki turns his attention away from her just as she knocks at the door of Selvig's current abode in the city.

Loki checks his warning-spells methodically, but as usual finds nothing. No sign of alien magic, no sign of the Chitauri. His warning-spells are silent once again.

He sighs and seats himself on a nearby rock, gazing out at the arid expanse of the desert.

Too curious to resist, he stretches his senses back towards Jane again, then he frowns darkly, feeling her agitation. She and Selvig are arguing. It is too difficult to keep from listening in:

"You know what he is, Jane. He's evil. He concocted some pretty story to lull us all, but I was his slave for months. He's not to be trusted."

"Erik, please. He's done evil, but that doesn't necessarily mean he is evil. Everyone does the wrong thing sometimes. Maybe it's just when you're a god, the fallout is that much bigger when you screw up. He's never done anything to hurt me-"

"Will you listen to yourself?! Even the most lovesick fool-"

Loki sighs heavily and turns his attention away as the yelling continues. He cannot blame Selvig for not trusting him, but he does not like the effect Selvig's anger is having on Jane.

He tries to force his mind to other thoughts, but alas, he has little else to think about!

Though he cannot expect Jane to share every moment of her days and nights with him, he finds little else to occupy his time with these days. He's uncharacteristically adrift, and though in one sense it is restful, not having to scheme and keep track of multiple lies, in another sense it can be wearyingly boring.

Pulling pranks on humans does not really entertain him, as it is far too easy. This is not aided by the fact that he suspects if Jane knew, it would lessen her opinion of him. He's not certain what concerns him most about that – her opinion of him, or the fact that he cares about her opinion of him.

His awareness drifts back to Jane and Selvig again.

Jane is apparently trying another tack: "Could we forget about Loki for a second? I'm here to ask you to work on the portal with me. Let's share this moment in scientific history, Dad would've wanted that-"

"Please, Jane! Think about what you are saying! Loki forced me to build him that thing so he could bring his army through to destroy our world. Now you're going to build another one, and what makes you think that the first time you open it, Loki won't have another army waiting on the other side again! Your father would be appalled that you are even considering-"

"Even if you don't trust my judgment these days, what about Thor's? He left Loki here with me. He knows Loki and I are together, and he's allowing it to happen. Heck, I think he even gave Loki his blessing. Thor is fine with Loki being here, and Fury and Stark are both cooperating with me to build this portal. You really think Loki is mind-controlling all three of them…and me?"

Jane is yelling now, and Loki grimaces and turns back to continue his original line of thought:

As pleasurable as it is, he cannot spend all his time planning new depravities to visit upon Jane. Still, his last lecherous scheme had been well-received by her, despite her momentary fears…he savours the memory of the look on her face when she'd realized she was in bed with two hims! Truly, such are the only pranks he thoroughly enjoys pulling these days.

But no, other than dreaming up new bedroom acts, there is not much else for him to do, so in the absence of a need to scheme, he has spent the rest of his recent days reverting to another old pastime of his: spying. He has tried to resist watching Jane as much as possible, spending most of his time watching the mortals of SHIELD instead. Though he suspects Jane would also not approve of either of those activities.

However, SHIELD does not seem to be planning much of anything to do with him. Their paltry attempts to prepare themselves for a possible Chitauri attack in the future exasperate him, but as yet Fury has not allowed his pride to sink to asking Loki for help. Very well, it is theirchoice. Foolhardy as it is.

Loki had watched Jane and Stark, so he had anticipated her probing questions. Her doubts grate at him, yet he knows he has little cause to complain. She has given him so much already, and all of it on faith.

He turns his attention back to her now. Jane seems calmer, but also despairing.

"Will you break things off with him, then?"

"No, Erik. He needs me, and I need him."

There's a pause, and Loki can imagine Jane choosing her next words carefully.

"But I also need you. You're family. You've been my family since before Dad died, and especially after. Mom and I aren't speaking any more. Do we need to be estranged from each other over this?"

Loki shifts uncomfortably, listening as Selvig's voice finally gentles.

"No, I suppose not. But I need...time. I don't trust Loki, period. And frankly, I don't really trust Fury either, especially after he lied about Coulson. I am here for you, Jane. But not when it comes to anything to do with Loki, and that means the portal. Working on it would be helping him, and I can't do that. If you manage to get it to work, and you open a way to Asgard and Odin himself walks through to greet humanity and pat Loki on the back, then I'll eat my words. But until that day…"

A silence hangs between the two mortals, and Loki is unable to turn away.

"I don't trust Fury either. But I'm making this portal for me, not anyone else. And working with SHIELD is the only way I can make all those years of hard work with no support mean something. I wish you were involved, but I won't stop if you refuse. Please understand though, Erik, that I love you."

Uncomfortable all over again without truly knowing why – Jane's love for Selvig is not a threat to their arrangement, Loki knows this - he jerks his attention away once more, staring out across the desert.

He'd told Jane that he did not wish to bring pain to her, but it seems that he is doomed to do so, no matter how good his intentions.

Jane slowly closes the door of Erik's apartment behind her and walks in the direction of the lab, her first few strides slow and halting as she wipes tears from her cheeks.

Well, that is not how I wanted things to go, she sighs to herself.

Still, her words to Erik – that she loved him, that he was family to her – seemed to have struck a chord. Maybe she just needs to wait, give him a week or two, and then try reaching out to him again. There's no harm in trying, anyway.

She takes a few deep breaths and tries her best to calm herself. She has a lot of things to organize this morning, and no more time for distractions.

But as she makes her way to the edge of town and turns towards the lab, the thought occurs that, except for her problems with Erik, she actually feels...happy.

Before Thor, when it had just been her and Darcy, and sometimes Erik when he was visiting, Jane would have described herself as content. But now, with proof that other worlds exist, with her portal on the verge of being built and maybe even functional, and with things with Loki getting better all the time…yes, she's actually happy, for the first time in a long time.

Happy.

Smiling now, Jane walks past her old trailer, making a mental note to follow up with Izzy and her potential buyer as soon as possible. At least Loki had agreed to Jane's notion to teleport her to and from Stark Tower every workday, so that's one living arrangement issue seen to.

Jane checks her watch. Darcy should be here within the hour, which will hopefully give Jane some time to decide which notes are key to take, and to start to set aside some of the smaller instruments and equipment she plans to take to Stark Tower-

Jane freezes, staring out past the lab. There's a strange, prickly feeling in the desert air. What's going on?

The sounds from the town behind her seem oddly muted, and her heartbeat too loud in contrast.

It's almost like what happened when Loki and Thor fought, but instead of seeing something, this time she feels something. Jane frowns; are they at it again? She walks quickly behind her trailer to the place they fought, but the sensation fades away. She returns to her original position, and the sensation grows stronger again as she does so. Curious, she continues walking, changing course every time the sensation weakens again. She is soon walking away from the lab, deeper into the desert. She doesn't know how long she walks for, but soon she can no longer see Puente Antiguo when she turns and looks behind her. Jane stops dead at that point, feeling like every hair on her body is standing on end.

What the hell is going on? Is it Lok-

Jane is wrenched bodily from the ground and straight up into the air, the force of it making her head snap painfully forward on her neck.

And she doesn't stop.

For a fascinated moment, Jane watches the ground fall away from beneath her, getting smaller and smaller in an insane reverse skydive. There's no sound but the rushing of the wind past her ears and her own gasping breaths. She's being held by what feels like a net or a blanket wrapped around her – but when she tears her eyes from the sight below her, she sees nothing on and around her but empty air.

Then the fear hits and Jane screams at the top of her lungs. Nothing changes, she doesn't stop or slow, and Jane screams again, her body twisting and struggling even though part of her brain is screaming at her to stop- If you get free, you fall and you die! You DIE! But whatever is holding her is too strong.

Some tiny, distant part of her still wonders if Loki is doing this, pulling some new mind-fuck. If any second now he'll materialize in mid-air and smile at her and somehow make this seem OK.

But as the ground gets even smaller, the air becomes thinner and thinner, and as black spots start to crowd out Jane's vision and blood begins to drip from her nose, she thinks that no, this can't be Loki.

Mercifully, Jane's body chooses that moment to pass out.

Loki has no warning whatsoever. One moment, he is idly following Jane's slow progress towards her lab, and wondering how he will fill the endless idle moments until she is done working on her portal for this day.

The next, there is a circle of Chitauri standing around him. Perhaps twenty of them.

They snarl and point their weapons, but even taken unawares (rare enough as that is), Loki of Asgard is still a warrior and a mage.

A breath later, there are two Lokis for every Chitauri, some standing in front and some behind the aliens.

Confused, the Chitauri run amok, firing fruitlessly at duplicates, though usually hitting their fellows instead. This gives Loki plenty of leisure to first teleport himself a safe distance away, then to conjure his golden plate armor, and finally to draw his daggers.

He cloaks himself in invisibility and then returns to the fray, leisurely picking off one-by-one any Chitauri who have thus far managed to escape massacre by their fellows.

When the last Chitauri grunts and gives up its pathetic life at the end of Loki's dagger, he gazes across the bloodied sand mounded with dead, and reflects that truly, he is not surprised that such were beaten by mere mortals.

Indeed, it is barely a victory to have vanquished such paltry warriors.

He supposes with a weary sigh that he will have to inform SHIELD of this happenstance. They will want to 'contain' it, no doubt. But at least they will call upon him for aid now, will they not? With this evidence of probable future alien attacks before them?

It may give him something else to do, to fill his days here.

Almost absently, he reaches out to sense where Jane is. She was surely too far away to even see this battle, let alone be affected by it-

He cannot feel her.

Loki's eyes widen, and he reaches out with a stronger thread of magic, but the result is the same.

No Jane.

Emotion twists in his gut, sharper than any sword, but it is only once he teleports himself to her last known location that he is willing to identify to himself what it is.

Panic.

He shoves it aside, reaching for anger. It will serve him better. Think, fool, he curses himself.

Is it not a weakness, to love?Thanos' voice purrs in his mind.

He shoves that thought viciously away, too. Think. You should have sensed the Chitauri before the attack. You did not. Which can only mean-

Thanos. Or The Other.

Loki discounts the first possibility entirely. Thanos would not deign to come down to Midgard just to steal Jane away. He prefers to sit in his throne and watch the chaos he creates.

No, it must be The Other. It is not a god, not like him and the others of Asgard, but in the universe from which it was spawned, it would certainly have been regarded as such. Though its magic is of a different kind from his, The Other is certainly powerful enough to have cloaked the Chitauri from Loki's warning-spells and sight, and to have kidnapped Jane.

He curses himself again for an arrogant fool. He'd relied on his cloaking spell above all, and in truth, his warning-spells had been cast merely as an afterthought. And yet, should he not have realized once Thor found him, that there must be holes in his cloak? If Thor had found him, certainly it stands to reason that The Other could have. And had.

Jane distracted you, Thanos' voice whispers.

Loki clenches his fists. No. He had expected Thanos' forces to attack Asgard first. The Tesseract was there, after all. Then Loki would have had some warning…

Nor had he considered that Jane could be a target. He is the betrayer, the turncoat. So why should they punish anyone else? Still, he knows Thanos' ways all too well, and he rebukes himself for not considering this possibility, for never thinking they would attempt to use her against him. Had he been wise enough to forsee this, he would have taken better precautions, protected her, but now it is far too late

But then he chides himself. He does not yet know for sure that this is the work of The Other.

Carefully, Loki searches for some remnant of The Other's magic, and finds it almost immediately. With a slowly-growing sense of dread, he realizes the Chitauri he'd killed had been merely cannon fodder, a distraction while The Other went after its true target.

He is a fool indeed. Loki grits his teeth, impotent rage filling him like acid.

The Other has Jane.

"No," Loki whispers in a dry rasp to the uncaring desert. The only thing that keeps him from screaming it is the knowledge that The Other might hear, and laugh.

Panic rears its dark fanged head again, and it feels worse than any torture of Thanos' making.

Jane slowly comes to, even though she's pretty sure she'd rather not.

She's lying on a floor of jagged rock with strange noises all around her. Dry slitherings, metal scraping against metal, chitterings and growls and low laughing shrieks.

The air is thin here and hard to breathe. It tastes bad in her lungs as she struggles reluctantly to sit up. It's also dim, and her eyes fight to make out the sharp, unforgiving shapes of the rocky walls rising crookedly around her, an odd set of stairs hanging in mid-air to her left, defying gravity.

Without warning she is grabbed, her arms almost crushed in grips so painful she groans, and two beings haul her to her feet.

She blinks watering eyes and looks at them. Grey skin, grey armour…Chitauri; she recognizes them from all the SHIELD file photos and media coverage from the Battle of Manhattan that she's seen.

She's in big trouble. This makes what happened with SHIELD seem like nothing more than a day at Disney World by comparison.

Jane's head throbs painfully and she can feel blood drying into a stiff film under her nose, and the aliens holding her arms are hurting her, so in all it takes her a few moments to notice that there's a third being now approaching them, shadowy and cloaked.

It crouches down to study her face-to-face, and Jane shudders to realize it has no eyes, just cloth wrapped around the top half of its face, and a thing like a golden cage covering the lower half.

It speaks, and its voice sounds like it has rocks wedged deep in its throat. "Greetings, consort of Loki of Asgard."

Jane swallows hard, shaking. "Who are you? What do you want?" Her voice is sobbing and weak and she curses herself for it.

"I am called The Other. And what I want, I have – you."

"Wh-why?" Jane stutters. It raises a hand towards her throat – a hand which, Jane notices with horrified fascination, has two thumbs on it, and blue skin – and she flinches as it strokes a finger along Loki's snake necklace.

"The Asgardian betrayed us, and so the Master wishes him to suffer."

"I don't know who or what you are talking about," Jane tries, weakly.

The Other laughs, and it sounds like snake scales rubbing dryly together. On either side of her, the Chitauri titter their amusement.

"Oh? That collar you wear reeks of the Asgardian's magic. It tells me exactly to whom you belong. Who owns you."

The creature leans closer, til it is nearly nose-to-nose with Jane. "And who will come running to save you, when your howls of pain and fear echo across space to his ears."

It smiles, revealing jagged, bloodied teeth

And Jane screams.

*sits in a corner with Loki with hands over ears, waiting for the angry screams to begin*

So folks, anyone care to make any predictions on what's going to happen to Jane? Will Loki try to rescue her? Will he try and get help, and if so, from who? Tell me your thoughts in the comments! :)