Summary: When Lizzie Donovan meets Loki of Asgard, she hates him, wishing she'd had the wherewithal to do more than just slap him. However, as she is thrown in his company more, she begins to realize that perhaps there is more to the man than the bitter facade he puts up. she decides to help him on the road to rehabilitation, hoping to bring him to a point where she thinks he should be to defeat the impending attack by the Mad Titan. But when her own past comes back to haunt her, and her own lies are revealed, will his trust be shaken to a point where he reverts back to where he had been? Or will he decide to forgive and forget, becoming the Prince of Asgard that he once was?

A/N: Okay, so I uploaded this before, but then after it being up a week with only one review, I decided to reread it - at which point I decided to try something else and rewrite it. As with its compadres, I am only posting this bit so that you guys can get an idea on the story. I will only update as long as you guys review, or else I will scrap it. Please review, as your reviews will be what determines whether or not I continue with this story, that and I survive on reviews - no reviews, no continue. :) Thanks.

Odin stood in front of his throne, his helmet of gold gleaming in the light which came in through the court windows. He had a grim look upon his face, a determined solemnity which dared anyone to try to contradict him; while his eyes gazed down upon his adopted son with sadness. How long had he raised Loki as his son, shielding him from the truth of his heritage... only to find that those very lies were the things which estranged Loki in the end?

Now, here his son stood, a muzzle preventing him from using his manipulating ways; from using his renown 'silvertongue'. Here he stood, green eyes staring up at him, awaiting his sentencing for his attempted destruction of Midgard.

"Loki... Odinson..." the King began, "The evidence has been brought against you, and you have been charged with attempted fratricide, attempted destruction of Jotunhëim, and invasion of Midgard." he looked at his son, "Therefore, you shall be stripped of your power, which you have used for the destruction of others. You shall be sent to the Tower of Solitude, henceforth, where you shall have time to consider your actions, and hopefully learn to regret that which you have done."

Loki turned his gaze toward Frigga, eyes pleading with her to do something. Although he felt nothing but disdain for Odin and Thor, Frigga was the only one who he had truly felt had made him apart of the family – the only one he still considered as his mother... but she could only look at him just as pitifully. There was no way that she would openly disregard Odin's decision, despite her love for Loki.

His glare then turned to Odin, and Thor who stood beside him. His 'brother' had been the only one to speak in his defense, or else he would have – no doubt – been banished to the Isle of Silence. Thor had said that Loki had been influential in his regaining his place in Asgard, as he would not have learned his lesson on Midgard unless Loki had sent the Destroyer... but that had only swayed the sentencing from certain death, to indefinite imprisonment. He was sure he would have preferred death, as imprisonment seemed to just add insult to injury. They still were trying to lie and say that he was apart of their family. And yet – he had not been allowed to speak.

"I, Odin, hereby take from you your powers." Loki could feel a tingling beginning to go through him, intense pain starting to replace it as his powers were extracted from him. He screamed behind the muzzle as he fell to the ground, but the sound was not heard by those present, who looked on with very little pity. Thor almost stepped forward, but Frigga held up a hand, shaking her head as she watched her younger son, in sorrow. The feeling dissipated, and Loki stood, his head held high as he felt a strange emptiness inside of him. He glared at his father, hating the fact that he had made him so weak...

"Sentencing has been carried out." Odin boomed throughout the court, "May the prisoner be taken to the place of his punishment."

The guard which surrounded Loki pushed him toward the doors, and escorted him to his new cell.

Phillip Dale walked down the hallway to his office in the marketing branch of Stark Tower. Being forty-five, and in charge of the entire department was something he found rather enjoyable. He had worked all his life to be in management, and now he was. After all, being a workerbee was a bit of a boring task for him, as he enjoyed being in charge instead. He couldn't help it, it was his nature.

He was early for once, that Monday morning, happy that he'd been able to wear his white shirt without ruining it once during breakfast. Quite an achievement, considering the color white was his bane, he usually couldn't go for an hour without marking in it some fashion.

"Good morning, Mr. Dale." his secretary, Miss Hope, greeted. "Having a good day?"

"Yes, I think I am." Phillip replied, "Any messages?"

Miss Hope nodded, pushing her cokebottle glasses higher on her nose, her grey eyes scanning her notepad. "Uh, yes. You have an appointment at nine, and another at eleven."

"I'm also having lunch with my wife at twelve." he added.

"And don't forget the staff meeting at two, and the conference with the legal department at three." Miss Hope replied.

"And we have the proposals that have to get done by Friday."

"Sounds like we're going to be busy." she chuckled.

Phillip laughed, "Tell me about it." he said, going to walk into his office.

"Oh, sir, this was left under the door when I came in." she said, passing him a envelope which had his name scrawled in very elegant handwriting. Uh oh.

Opening it up, his worst fears were realized as he realized who it was from. "Dammit no!" he shouted, opening his office and running in. "I am going to have her head!" he shouted as he stormed back out of his office.

Meanwhile, on the legal floor, Elizabeth Donovan was showing her co-workers her most recent prank and Mr. Dale's reaction, using the recording system in the building which she had hacked – well, that she had been allowed to hack. She had glued his office, right down to the coffee cup on the desk, to the ceiling using a Stark-tested glue which would hold such weight. It was her best prank yet, and surely could not be topped by the equally pranking Phillip Dale. He had started it, but her grandmother had always told her to finish on top.

"Not even Langley can save her this time!" Phillip shouted as he stormed back down the marketing hallway, going into the the elevator and pushing the buttons a little too hard. His poor secretary waited until his stomping around the floor was no longer heard before she burst out laughing, calling the others in the office to come and see.

"Is something wrong, Mr. Dale?" Jarvis, the AI in the building asked the perturbed manager in the elevator, faux concern lacing its tone.

"Lizzie, you're so dead when he tells Mrs. Langley." Pat Morris told her, watching on her i-pad as the manager fumed.

"Ack, what can he do?" Lizzie asked, pushing a long lock of brown hair out of her face, "I work for Langley, not Dale. He can't fire me, and the worst she can do is forbid me from pulling a prank until April Fools – which wouldn't be too hard. This sneaky stuff is hard work."

"You seem to be good at it." Mark Miller replied, "Are you sure you're not related to James Bond or something."

Lizzie laughed, "Ha! I can see it now." she said, jumping down from the desk, and using her deepest voice, "My name's Donovan... Liz Donovan."

"Why 'Liz''?" Mark asked.

"Cause nobody would take 'Elizabeth' seriously. Its not sexy enough... you know, like 'Liz Taylor'." she replied.

"Miss Elizabeth, perhaps you ought to put that away? Mr. Dale is about to approach the floor." Jarvis warned her.

"Thanks Jarvis, I'll do that." Lizzie replied, "Okay kids," she started, referring to the group of seven co-workers who had all surrounded her desk, "Break's over, get back to work."

"You going to tell him you did it?" Pat asked.

Lizzie smirked, "I don't know yet."

"DONOVAN!"

Thor walked into the throne room, unsure of why he had been summoned. It had been two years in Asgard since the Chitauri invasion of New York, the time passing differently on earth than the golden realm; the royal family still somewhat in mourning over what had happened to the fallen son of Asgard. Loki still sat in the Tower of Solitude, carrying out his sentence completely alone. Although Frigga had mourned her lost son, she did not speak of the younger prince... it simply brought about too much pain and guilt.

Thor still loved his brother, but he knew his father's decision for his brother's indefinite imprisonment was as merciful as he could be. Some Asgardians believed that Odin had gone too easy on Loki, stripping him of his powers and incarcerating him; believing that the prince should have been sent somewhere worse, or even executed for his crimes. Thor could only hope his brother would repent of his deeds, and one day be brought back into the family. For now, he waited to find out what his father wanted from him.

"Thor, there you are!" Frigga greeted, embracing him. "How did things go on Midgard?"

"Well, New York is rebuilding. Its slow, but they're making progress, the Avengers are very helpful in that aspect." he said.

"I'm glad to hear that. The mortals have always been so, let us hope nothing ever makes them lose their endurance." Frigga replied.

"Thor, I'm afraid we have some bad news." Odin said, bringing Thor's attention to the fact that Heimdall was in the room. Not much could get the gatekeeper to leave his post, Thor concluded that whatever his father had to tell him, it had to be serious to have pulled the gatekeeper from the remnants of the bifrost.

"What is it?" Thor asked.

Odin looked to Heimdall, whose all-seeing eyes seemed to look right past Thor. "There seems to be a force building in the outer reaches of the nine realms." Heimdall boomed, "The Mad Titan."

Thor looked at his parents, "The being who assisted Loki in his attack on earth." he said.

"Yes, apparently he has not forgotten how Loki failed him." Heimdall affirmed, "Nor has he forgotten his want of the Cosmic Cube, and Hel's demand for her love. He is building an army, and intends to try to attack Midgard once again."

This caught the Prince's attention. "Again?" he repeated, "Midgard is weak at present, they cannot withstand another attack; and Thanos would be much more impacting than Loki ever was."

"That is why you were called here, my son." Odin replied, "We're going to need your assistance."

"We need you to speak with Loki." Frigga interjected.

"Loki?" Thor repeated, "How long do we have, Heimdall?"

"Not very long, my prince. He is almost ready to move." the gatekeeper answered.

The king and queen of Asgard shared a glance. "Loki has the most information on how to deal with the Other and the Mad Titan." Odin said, "We need his help. Midgard needs his help."

"What if he refuses?" Thor asked.

"We need his help, son," Frigga spoke, the love for Loki evident in her tone.

"Thanos will use Midgard as a vantage to Asgard, and from there the rest of the nine realms. Midgard must be protected." Odin replied.

Thor looked between his parents, then to Heimdall. "Hopefully Loki is willing to listen."

"That is what we all hope, Thor." Frigga replied

Lizzie looked out on the stormy weather, wondering where on earth it had come from. The morning had started out clear enough, the Weather Channel not aware of any kind of fronts moving in... but it seemed the guesserologists had guessed wrong again, and the rain had come pouring down as she waited for her sister to come into the lobby so they could go home.

She wondered what her seanmháthair – or grandmother if you didn't speak Gaelic – had decided to make for dinner. She had to hand it to the woman, she was a brilliant cook. Then again, she had come from the old country, and had only moved to America after her husband had died. Seeing as she had to raise two granddaughters, she figured that America was a better place to settle down than Cork, Ireland. More opportunities for everything.

"Lizzie, are you seriously looking out on the rain?" a voice called out from behind her. Lizzie chuckled, turning back to her twin sister.

"Yes, Bella, I am. I like the rain in case you haven't noticed." Lizzie said.

Bella shook her strawberry-blond hair out of her eyes. "Oh, I have. Wasn't it supposed to be sunny today, though?" she asked.

Lizzie snorted, "Yeah, that never stopped the weather." she said as they both braved the rain to get a taxi home.

"Where to?" the driver asked.

"230 Seeley St, Brooklyn." Bella replied, taking off her heels and allowing her feet to relax.

"Both to Brooklyn?" the driver inquired again. A blond and brown eyebrow rose at him, "Alright, Brooklyn it is."

To be confused of why both women wanted to go to the same place was understandable – the sisters looked nothing alike. Yes, they were twins, but somehow they'd managed to wind up on opposite ends of the gene pool. While Bella was tall, Lizzie was short; Bella was fair with freckles, Lizzie was darker with olive skin. The only thing they had in common was the shape of their eyes, but the color contrasted that as Bellas were a startling color of blue and Lizzies were brown. Yet, they were sisters, there was no doubt about it. Even in school everyone knew that they were so close that no one dared to drive a wedge in between them... not even their boyfriends.

"How was work?" Lizzie asked her sister.

Bella sighed, "Interesting. I take it that you were the one who played that little prank on Mr. Dale?" Lizzie ducked her head with a chuckle, "Is that where you were all weekend?"

"Hey, stuff like that takes time." Lizzie retorted.

"What did Mrs. Langley say?" Bella asked.

Lizzie shrugged, "Nothing, just a slap on the wrist with a 'no pranks till April' thing... then after Mr. Dale was gone she congratulated me on my ingenuity. The woman is a closet pranker." she replied as the cab stopped in front of their building. Getting out, Lizzie paid the cabbie, racing her sister to the door as they both tried to get out of the rain. "You only won because you took off your heels." she complained as they went inside.

"We're home!" Bella shouted once the door closed, shaking her blond tresses from the moisture which had formed.

"Oh, 'ello darlings." an Irish accent came as the red-headed elderly woman came out of the kitchen. Her age and her looks had never matched, as her hair was still vibrantly red at the ripe old age of seventy-eight, indeed for Kathleen Donovan had always been known for looking rather young for her age. "I just finished up the stew, it'll be ready in about ten minutes." Lizzie and Bella took turns kissing the woman on the cheek. "How was work?"

"Ugh, droll as usual." Bella replied as she collapsed on the couch, "I had Mr. Tyson yapping in my ear all day about how I was doing the books wrong, he wouldn't leave me alone. But Lizzie had some fun, I heard."

"Oh?" Kathleen exclaimed, "And what did darling Elizabeth do?"

"Played a prank on Mr. Dale." Lizzie answered, "I glued his furniture to the ceiling, caused quite a ruckus."

Kathleen fixed her granddaughter with a stare, "And did you tell Mr. Dale how to get it back down?" she asked, her wooden spoon sitting menacingly in her hand.

"Did you raise me to only play a prank that could be reversed, and never stick it out for too long lest you harm the pranked?" Lizzie asked.

"That doesn't answer the question, young woman."

"You did, and by the end of the day, he was happily finishing up his work at a desk on the floor. Quite ingenious if you ask me, I thought it was something which couldn't be topped." Lizzie said smugly.

"Until, of course, you top it." Bella quipped.

Her sister scoffed, "Well, I am the best."

"Humble too."

"That's enough, the pair of you. Go get into some clothes you won't mind dirtying, and come help me in the kitchen." she said, shooing them off. "And don't take forever Lizzie, or there won't be any food for you tonight."

"Yes, seanmháthair!" Lizzie and Bella called back, doing as ordered before dinner.

Loki sat in his cell, a book ever-so-casually in his lap. He had been here for what seemed like forever, and had resigned himself – bitterly – to the fact that he probably would be there forever. 'To think on his actions' that is what Odin said, but Loki spent most of his time brooding; pondering on when it was that he had first began to notice his family's distance from himself. When he noticed that he was different than they – and he wondered what would have happened had he never gone to Jotunhëim with Thor that fateful day... would he still be living under the illusion that he was Odin's son?

The doors to his cell opened, but he did not look up. After two years of having his tray of food delivered to him by a fellow prisoner who had been made a mute, he did not even care if the man was present; he wouldn't talk back anyway. However, the familiar sound of his tray being set up was not present before the door shut, and he looked up all the same – then seeing who it was, he went back to looking at his book.

"What are you doing here?" he asked the Prince of Asgard, "Shouldn't you be off saving Midgardians from some horrible catastrophe, or starting a war with some unassuming realm?"

"I am here for one purpose Loki." Thor replied, "Heimdall has seen something from your previous ally."

Loki looked up once more, "Oh? And how does that concern me? I'm currently trapped in a tower – compliments of the Allfather – and have no means of escape, if that's what you're worried about. Whatever the Other is planning is not my concern anymore." he replied tersely.

"This has nothing to do with you, or the Other." Thor insisted, "It has to do with the Mad Titan."

Green eyes darkened, memories of what he had been warned about. 'There is nowhere we won't find you.' He looked at Thor. "Again, what has that got to do with me?"

"I need your help." Thor answered, walking further into the room.

Loki scoffed, "My help?" he echoed, "Oh, that is rich Odinson. Get the convicted criminal to help you get another criminal."

"Nevertheless," Thor began, "You are the only one who can help us."

"Oh... is that so?"

"Whatever gave you the idea that I liked Mike Shannon?" Lizzie asked Bella as arrived at work the following Friday. Bella rolled her eyes, a smirk on her lips.

"Perhaps because you talked to him the majority of the night?" Bella supplied. "You were there to see Courtney, and you wound up talking to her brother the entire night."

Lizzie huffed, "I was just being polite." she muttered, "He wouldn't stop talking – hell, I can't even recall half of what he said."

Bella chuckled as they went into the elevator, "Yeah, sure."

"Oh, come on..." Lizzie said exasperatedly, "He's too boring for me. I like a guy who can engage my mind, and make me think."

"Good luck, Liz." Bella replied as the elevator dinged, announcing that they had made it to accounting. "This is my floor, I'll see you at lunch."
"Sure, same as usual?" Lizzie asked as the doors closed.

Bella nodded as she walked away, leaving Lizzie to ascend to her floor. As she exited the elevator, the hum of office workers could be heard throughout the floor. After ease dropping a bit, Lizzie could make out what was going on. Apparently Mr. Stark had a visitor of the otherwordly kind. Thor had returned to New York, with a cloaked figure in tow, and everyone wanted to know who it was – and no one had any answers.

"Good morning Lizzie." Pat greeted, pushing a frizzy curl behind her ear. "Did you hear the news?"

Lizzie snorted, placing her starbucks coffee on her desk as she adjusted her blazer to hide the coffee stain she had already acquired on her white blouse. "Something about a cloaked figure arriving with the guy who called down lightening from the sky during the invasion?" she said, sitting down and starting up her computer.

"Yeah, how'd you know?" Pat asked.

"Uh, none of the women around here are very subtle... especially when it comes to gossip." Lizzie replied, shuffling papers around her desk."Hey, have you seen the proposal for the Baxter Building?"
"Mrs. Langley sent it off this morning. Apparently Mr. Stark finally signed it." Pat replied.

"About time." Lizzie muttered, taking a sip of coffee, burning her tongue.

A head popped over the cubicle wall. "Hey Donovan, you're wanted by Langley upstairs." her co-worker Gene said. "You might want to get up there ASAP."

"Great." Lizzie said, "R&D?"

Gene snickered, "You wish. Don't look at me like that, everyone knows you have a crush on Dr. Banner." Lizzie's face got red as she reached up to smack Gene, but he ducked last minute. "Anyways, she wants you up in the apartments."
It was Pat's turn to snicker as she looked at Lizzie's incredulous look. "Why does she want me up there?" she asked.

"She has something she wants to talk to you personally about. Something that has sensitive material." Gene answered, "But if I were you, I wouldn't keep her waiting."

Lizzie stood up, "Thank you Gene, I know how to do my job." she snapped, heading for the elevators. Once inside, she asked Jarvis why it was she had been sent for.

"I couldn't tell you, Miss Elizabeth. I can assure you Mrs. Langley hasn't informed me." Jarvis answered, "I'm sorry."

"No problem, I'm just surprised I'm being allowed above the thirty-ninth floor." she muttered to herself.

"It was Mrs. Langley's personal wish, she argued with Mr. Stark for quite some time before he conceded and allowed your clearance level upped." Jarvis said.

"Upped?" Lizzie repeated, pinching herself "I must be dreaming."

"I'm afraid you're very much awake, Miss Elizabeth." Jarvis said dryly as the doors opened, "Welcome to Mr. Stark's personal quarters. Mrs. Langley is down the hall, turn left, then the room to the right. She's waiting for you."

"Thank you Jarvis." Lizzie said, heading down the hall. Mrs. Langley was there as Jarvis had said, reading a book.

"Oh, Lizzie, there you are." she said, flipping her brown hair out of her eyes as she stood up to greet Lizzie. Mrs. Emma Langley was quite young, at only twenty-five, who had taken the twenty-year-old Lizzie under her wing the moment the girl applied for an internship. Ever since, she had treated her like a younger sibling. "Look, I need you to do something for me."

"So I heard. Emma, I hope everything is alright." Lizzie replied.

"Well, lets put it this way: I'm going to be having an extended stay with Mr. Stark due to some information which I just got." Emma retorted, "Can you get Andrew from my mom's house and bring him here? As well as bring a few of my things from my apartment."

"Of course. That's no trouble at all." Lizzie replied, "Can I ask why it is that you didn't just call me or something?"
"Because no one else is to know that I'm staying in the tower. Safety-wise its a bad idea, you can tell my mom that I'm on a business trip for Mr. Stark, and I don't know when I'll get back. Tell her I'm in Europe or something – you're creative." Emma replied, "Just don't tell her where I really am."

Lizzie nodded, "Anything else?"

"No, that should be it. If there is anything else I'll let you know when you come back up here." Emma said, "Thank you so much for this."

"Hey, no problem. Its all apart of the job description." Lizzie replied, "After all, I did decided not to be the paper girl."

"You were a marvelous paper girl." Emma teased.

Lizzie looked around, "So this is the infamous Apartment... I'm disappointed."

Emma scoffed, "Disappointed? How?"

"I was expecting hovering chairs, and all sciencey. It looks too normal to be Iron Man's." she replied as Emma chuckled.

"Well, maybe in another ten or twenty years, we'll see how he decides to decorate." Emma said.

"Alright, well I'll get going. Spread the word – what time does Andrew get off of school?"

"3:30." Emma answered, thanking Lizzie once again for her help.

Leaving the room, Lizzie couldn't help but get a little lost when it came to the directions, and she accidentally wound up making a wrong turn. "Jarvis, which way is the elevator?" she asked, finally remembering the AI was there to help her.

"Turn left, Miss Elizabeth." it instructed, but she wasn't prepared when she suddenly found herself faceplanted into a leather-covered chest.

"Watch where you're going!" the silky voice above her said as she righted herself, looking up at the person she had run into.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry I didn't notice-" her gaze turned upwards, and she looked at him properly.

It was him. The man – or alien – who had tried to take over her city, her world. She couldn't believe that he was here of all places. It had been eight months since the attack, but she still woke up in a cold sweat as she remembered running around Manhattan trying to find Bella in the madness that was New York City. All because of this bastard.

She'd never seen him upclose, but there was no question in her mind that it was him. Eyes wide, and mouth agape she began backing away from him, not quite sure how to react. She looked him over, from his sleek black hair, to his aristocratic features – all in all she found him incredibly attractive. Who couldn't? His eyes simply bored into you, their green hue something which she had never seen before. His figure was lithe, but not skinny like most guys her age, which a girl like her appreciated.

"Were you not going somewhere?" he asked with a smirk, noticing her wide eyes appraising him thoroughly.

His voice seemed to snap her out of her reverie, and she remembered that behind this pretty shell was a killer. Narrowing her eyes, she slapped him as hard as possible, watching as his head actually turned with the blow. His eyes turned back to hers, a sad look lingering for a moment before his haughty mask returned. "How dare you?"

"How dare I?" she retorted with a scoff, "I do believe you tried to take over my planet. I think that I have every right to dare." she slapped him again, "Because one slap is not enough for the damage you incurred, you selfish bastard."

Green eyes narrowed as he wished he had his magical powers – the girl would be destroyed in a second. Sure, he took a moment to admire her bravery, as foolish as it was, but he couldn't help but want her destruction. Her pretty little face would be no more as she was reduced to dust. He was a god, and yet she had hit him hard enough to make a sting. If only...

"Loki!" the voice of the man out of time broke through his red haze, "We need you." Captain Rogers said, defensive as he watched the Asgardian. He had watched Lizzie slap him, knowing the girl was probably somewhat idiotic in that respect. He nodded in her direction, and she replied in kind.

"Yeah Rock of Ages, lets go. Stop tormenting the girl and get back in here, we have a job to do." Mr. Stark added. Loki didn't move.

"Loki!" A booming voice shouted from the other room. Thor. "Now!"

Loki looked at the girl a moment longer, threatening her with his eyes. Yet, she stood undaunted, a challenging brow rising. She wasn't afraid of him. Curious, he hadn't met a mortal that hadn't feared him at least slightly; well, exempting the Avengers, but they didn't count. But no one dared to slap him, not if they wished to live. Yet, she had managed to – twice! Curse the Allfather for making him so weak!

"Loki..." Captain America repeated lowly, daring the god to make a move toward Lizzie's demise. With a huff, the god of mischief turned on his heel, stomping away from the infuriating mortal.

Lizzie stood rooted in her place, wondering if that had just happened. "Yep, it did." Tony Stark said from a few feet away. She looked at him incredulously, "You're Lizzie Donovan aren't you?" she nodded, still unable to form words from the shock. "I told Emma that giving you higher clearance was a bad idea."

That snapped her out of it. "I'm sorry, Mr. Stark, I got lost. Jarvis was instructing me on how to get back to the elevator when I ran into... him." she replied.

"Yeah, well go get unlost, Puppy. You don't need to be wandering around here." Mr. Stark retorted, pointing in the directions of the elevators. "Go that way."

"Yes, sir." Lizzie walked down the hall, the doors of the elevator opened as she approached, allowing her just to in.

As the elevator descended back to her floor, she mentally kicked herself. She was brilliant, the top of her class, the assistant to the legal aid of Tony Stark!

And all she had managed to do was slap the bastard who tried to take over New York. Slapped! It probably hadn't even hurt him! She groaned as her mind then decided to go through all the other options she had before her. If only she'd thought of them then, she could have mentally thrown that bastard to wherever it was he came from.

Yet, she had not. That thought in mind, she made her way out of the building.

Now tell me what you think below, and if you guys like it I will continue it. If you don't like it, still review so that I can know what you don't like and make it better. Please?