Lights flash in my peripheral vision as I run through the maze. I took down three robot simulators in the open area behind me, exactly the way that Natasha and Clint taught me, and there's no doubt in my mind that they're watching me right now on one of the monitors. Hopefully nodding approvingly—I'd hate for them to feel like all their time and effort into train me had gone to waste.

I stop at the end of an empty hallway, glaring up at a single camera perched on the opposite wall, signaling the end of the maze. I furrow a brow at the lack of a door, or ladder—anything to get me over the wall and back into the training arena, like there usually is at the end of other training simulations.

I glance back before looking at the camera again, realizing that the situation is a puzzle—there's a way over the wall, and…

I have to jump. That has to be it, there's nothing else it could be.

I glance at one of the lamps on the wall, knowing that there's probably a small camera watching me on one of them. I back up slowly down the hallway, and take off in a brisk run, turning sharply to grab onto one of the wall lamps, and heave myself toward the camera.

Just as predicted, the camera is mounted tightly enough to hold my weight easily. I haul myself up onto it, reaching for the top of the wall as I haul myself over it. This one's taller than the others, and my quick scrambling proves unwise as I tumble a fair distance down to the ground—barely managing to catch myself as I land on my arm.

"Aw fucking hell, damn it all," I curse as I straighten up, grasping my elbow.

I look around at the familiar scene—black walls surrounding the maze, and a single pair of double-doors in front of me. A couple of crew members emerge from behind the doors as they usually do, and lead me back to the main camera room for my evaluation.

"Not bad," Natasha says, pivoting in my direction as they shuffle me in. "Especially that last part—now that was pretty graceful, Cerys."

"Shut up," I answer laughingly as they sit me down in the spinning chair in front of the monitors.

Behind her, Clint chuckles at the video recording of my 'graceful' scramble over the wall. "I think I'll take an extra copy of that," he says, pointing to the screen. "And take it home for a rainy day."

"Other than that," Nat interjects, looking toward me as she leans against the counter. "You did pretty good. Think you're ready to ditch the wire."

I'd been at A.I.M's headquarters several times now, but never without an untraceable device listening in on all the conversations. I tell myself that it's a pretty entertaining scene—working both agencies at the same time, but only one of them knows that I'm genuinely working for them. Only S.H.I.E.L.D knows my true allegiances, A.I.M only thinks that I'm working undercover for them.

"Awesome," I mumble, rubbing my sore arm as I glance at the time—seven o'clock. "Damn it, I wanted to be done by six thirty…"

"Big plans tonight?" Clint asks as he traces his fingers across the floating screens.

I shrug. "Michael's coming over, does that count?"

"Think that stops counting after the first six months," he responds.

Indeed, it's been nearly a year since Michael and I started dating—nearly a year since I met him at the Academy. He was one of the featured performers in the first show I choreographed, though we didn't start seeing each other until after it was over. Those first few months were the lightest I'd felt in a long, long time, and the past year has comprised the best, healthiest relationship I've ever been in.

"'Cuz you know so much about that, right?" I smirk as I look up at him, and the corner of his mouth flickers in turn. "Alright, well, if you guys don't mind… I'm going to head out."

"Sure," Nat nods in my direction. I roll my shoulder back as I stand, making for the doors and heading to the locker rooms.

I'd spared the shower at home by showering at the facility, and despite my tardiness, I was able to get back home in a timely manner—thanks to the secret roads that S.H.I.E.L.D has me taking, I skipped the latter half of rush hour traffic.

All part of the effort to keep my secret life just that—a secret.

Music plays on the other side of the door as I saunter down the hallway, a clear indicator that Andy—my favorite roommate, with his harmless-yet-not-so-subtle hots for my boyfriend—is home early from work. At this time of the day, Janie, Rita and Lalita are probably home as well.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I look down at it as I open the door. A text from Michael:

Wed, 8:30 PM/Michael: "Got your green light, I'll be there in a bit. I love you :)"

I smile.

"What up, friends?" I murmur as I enter the rowdy apartment, closing the door behind me and slipping my phone back into my pocket.

The delicious smell of curry instantly hits my nostrils, and I inhale it deeply—such a pleasant reminder that Lalita offered to cook us dinner tonight. She, Janie and Rita are all in school at NYU, apparently going through midterms this week. With a communal pitch for food expenses, Lalita made dinner to help with the stress of having to physically survive during this difficult, difficult time.

The laughter tapers for a moment as my roommates look back at me. "Heeeeey," Lalita croons as she stands to get another plateful of food. "Dinner's ready. Came out pretty well I think!"

"Nice," I set my purse down on the counter as I look over the massive containers of food. "How much should I Venmo you?"

She shrugs. "Like five bucks."

"I'll make it ten," I respond, pulling out my phone to fulfill my obligation. "Done and done. Thank you so much for doing this," I say, scooping some food onto one of the stacked plates. "I mean, I know it's not really for me, but thanks anyways."

"Best damn fuckin' curry I've ever had," Andy muffles, raising a brow as he shovels another spoonful into his mouth.

"I thought you said you've never had it before," Janie points her fork at him. "So, like, you can't compare. But like, it's super good, Lalita—I've had it so many times, this is bomb."

I press my lips together. Rita must have the patience of a saint to be tolerating sharing my old room with her—the voice alone makes me grind my teeth. At least it did, anyway, when she first moved in. She's got a nice personality and her heart's in the right place, so that's all that mattered in the end.

All in all, we get along really well, and that's as lucky as lucky gets.

"It is really good," I nod in agreement as I sit down on one of the couches. "How was your guys' day?"

"Pretty good," Andy laughs as he points to Rita with his fork. "Except hers, she dun' fucked up today," he says sarcastically.

I widen my eyes as I look at her. "Oh no, what'd you do?"

Rita smacks her lips together heavily, pursing them as she nods her head and looks up at me. "May or may not have accidentally sent the wrong e-mail to the wrong person."

I raise a brow at her. "What, a sex e-mail or something?"

She shakes her head. "Not exactly—you know that guy I told you about yesterday, from that college dating site?"

I lower my chin. "Yeaaaah?"

"Well, we were talking about setting up a coffee date, and I accidentally sent the last e-mail that was meant for him, to my boss."

"What!?" I double over laughing—nearly choking on a piece of chicken. "What the hell, Rita? Who the hell even sends e-mails anymore, don't you text!?"

"Well he's old fashioned, okay!?" she laughs back at me. "And I freakin' like it!"

"Oh yeah, I bet your boss liked it it too," Andy smirks as he looks down at his plate.

"Oh my GOD," I burst out laughing, and a knock sounds against the front door. "Oh," I turn, setting my plate down on the coffee table. "I'll get it, it's Michael."

Andy purses his lips demonstrably as he looks at me, narrowing his eyes suggestively. I giggle, "Shut up!" I say amusedly as I stand and saunter past the kitchen.

Green eyes and a bright, white smile flash handsomely as I open the door. "Hiya," Michael says in a sweet, smooth voice as he steps over the threshold, wrapping his arms around me tightly. I hug him in turn, rolling onto the balls of my feet to meet his height, and brushing my cheek against his soft, blonde hair.

"Hi there," I smile, pecking his lips as I pull back.

My roommates greet him dispersedly as I stroll back over to the coffee table to grab my plate of food, and head back to the kitchen. "You should have some of this," I gesture to the food as he looks down at it, shuffling in my direction slowly. "It's really good."

He grins slightly. "Yeah, I mean, I actually am pretty hungry, you sure it's okay?"

"Of course it is!" I nod, giving him a warm smile—he knows we split the expenses of bulk dinners. I'll tell him later that I pitched an extra five bucks, even though we both know that my roommates like him enough to welcome him anytime.

"Yeah you're totally welcome dude—how was your day?" Lalita chirps from the couch.

He throws her a friendly grin and shrugs. "Not bad. Practice like always."

"Ahhh," I mumble, scooping up some food for him. "How're they liking my new routine?"

When no response comes, I look back to see him pursing his lips together amusedly. I widen my eyes, "What, do they hate it!?"

"No, no," he says, laying a hand on my back as he takes the plate from my hand. "But Jackie might've broken her ankle doing that last flip."

I gasp. "Oh shit, do they know for sure?"

Breaking any body part is a huge, huge deal for dancers—breaking one on the cusp of a performance is an even bigger deal. The Academy won't be performing at the Remembrance Festival this year, but there are plenty of other events around for them to be hired for—never mind the concert performances we put on ourselves. Sometimes with well-known bands and singers, and many of our own students and performers have gone on to pursue those types of careers themselves.

The Academy's been growing a pretty versatile reputation in that sense, and rumor has it that they're branching off into theater now. A rumor I'm sworn not to confirm, even though I've been presented with some collaborative projects ideas myself.

"It happened just before I left," Michael shrugs. "So I didn't stick around to hear much of anything that was going on."

I nod. "I see… I guess, maybe I need to have another look at the routine, or something."

"No, babe, it wasn't your fault," he says, turning and strolling after me behind the couches.

I frown. "I don't know, feels like it a little… but I really thought she could handle that move, you know?"

"Yeah, of course," he nods, taking a bite of his food as he follows after me. "She should have been able to, it wasn't that hard."

I nod as I look over at the living room, noting how the others have long continued on with their conversation, and we continue on with ours as we head back to my new room—Loki's old room.

I didn't touch the arrangement of the room after he'd left, and I still haven't. I did try to rent it out initially, I really did… But I'd spent so many nights in there after the Asgardians had left, I just didn't have it in me to let it go, and I hadn't had the forethought to think about the consequences of dating a new guy and bringing him home to it. So instead, I rented out the other rooms and kept it for myself.

No one knows who it belonged to previously, of course—especially not Michael. And no one knows what I did, save for Pepper and Tony, who still come over to visit from time to time.

Boy oh boy, is it fun when Iron Man visits our apartment.

I suppose Pepper did try to warn me that keeping Loki's room wasn't a good idea, but I just wasn't in the headspace to listen to her back then. I'd be lying if I said I didn't regret that deeply. It was hard enough at first to be reminded of him when I finally started feeling ready to let go, bringing Michael home to it also added the benefit of guilt. So I decided that I would take back my old room, as soon as Rita and Janie decided to move out—which would probably be soon, considering the fact that they're both seniors.

If not, I'd figure something else out. One of them is bound to leave, and I've already considered all the options—charging the same rent to move into the individual rooms, for example. I've no idea how those conversations will go, but I figure that that'll be a bridge to cross when I actually get to it.

The only real adjustment I'd made to Loki's room was placing a TV at the foot of the bed, which still left plenty of room for everything else. Definitely a good decision, especially for nights like this…

Michael kicks off his shoes and coat before plopping down onto the bed beside me, and I lay my near empty plate down beside his on the nightstand, leaning against his shoulder as he navigates through his Netflix account—which I'm currently using as well.

He rolls his head down toward me. "Any requests?" he asks, his breath fanning my forehead.

"No," I shake my head against his shoulder.

"How about this?" he asks, navigating to the Babadook. "You in the mood for something scary?"

I grin—horror movies lead to cuddling. And cuddling leads to 'better times'—I nod approvingly. "Sure!"

"Alright," he selects the movie, and shifts slightly before grabbing his plate again.

Barely a minute into the movie, I brush my cheek against his sleeve as I look up at him from below. "I feel so bad," I murmur.

"What? What for?"

"Well," I mumble as he sets the plate back down and shifts further down, propping up against an elbow and looking down at me concertedly. "Jackie's ankle… Maybe she wasn't ready for that kind of move…"

"Oh, babe," he says, pulling me against him. "Stop it, it's not your fault—she should've said something if she couldn't do it, but she really wanted to. We all liked your routine."

"Kay," I muffle against his shirt, enjoying the warmth emanating from him as I glance at his plate. "You have to stay like this, you're not allowed to eat anymore."

He chuckles lowly. "Okay, sure," he says, gliding his hand up to the side of my face. "No more food… For now."

I nod. "No more food."

"…For now," he adds.

"Mmmm," I rub my face against his shirt in response, and he laughs as he hugs me tightly.

We stay like that for some time, until the closeness and intermittent kisses steep just long enough for intimacy to bloom in my chest. The kisses deepen as his hands begin to glide, and one by one, my articles of clothing leave my body for the floor. Moments more, and the sheets are crumpled around us both.

My phone buzzes a few times atop the nightstand, but I barely notice.

I'm not sure how long these honeymoon phases are supposed to last, but I'm elated to admit that the passion hasn't diminished at all since the first time we slept together. Surprisingly enough, it was our first date, and what was meant to be a quick coffee date turned into a seven-hour conversation. I hadn't even noticed the time go by until dusk settled, and at that point, we simply decided to just go ahead and jump straight to our second date over dinner.

Despite the fact that we weren't strangers—based on our mutually shared occupation—and the fact that Michael's handsome features should theoretically add to his confidence, he was pretty reluctant to kiss me that night. He told me retrospectively that he'd wanted to, but was extremely nervous, which was why I had to lean in first.

And I remember it like it was yesterday. The street was completely empty, save for the two of us, and what started as a small peck quickly turned into a deeper kiss. For me, the whole occasion felt like I was coming alive, and the kiss simply plunged me into warm water. I was warm and light, and above all, I was happy…

I still am—in more ways than one, as I roll over onto my side, panting.

"I think we probably need to rewind," Michael says amusedly.

I smirk. "Probably," I say, reaching for the remote. At some point, we'd switched places, and I landed closer to the nightstand than he did. "Here we go," I say, pressing the rewind button.

Michael settles onto the pillow behind me as I prop myself up.

"You coming back?" he muses, and I look back to see him smiling at me—illuminated by the TV.

I grin. "Yes, gimme one sec," I say, and prop myself up onto my elbow as I reach up and grab my phone.

The screen lights up my eyes, and I squint as Pepper's name appears on the screen—along with three texts.

Wed, 9:12 PM/Pepper: "Hey, call me when you can, I need to tell you something"

Wed, 9:15 PM/Pepper: "It's important, so do it ASAP"

Wed, 9:22 PM/Pepper: "Okay damn it, I don't have the patience for this right now… Loki and Thor are coming, they'll be here in a few days. Avengers business, Tony hasn't told me what's going on yet, so I don't know how long they're staying"

My eyes widen as heat drains from my cheeks, and panic slowly seeps into my chest. I reread the same text a few more times to make sure I get it right, before another one appears.

Wed, 9:53 PM/Pepper: "Too late, I saw the 'read' receipt… Say something :("

I blink a few times, raising my thumbs to the keyboard.

Wed, 9:54 PM/Cerys: "Shit"

SURPRISE, FRIENDS!

Okay, so I couldn't stay away from this project as long as I'd anticipated. I literally started thinking about this right away, I just couldn't wait until the weekend, and I figured you guys would be okay with it. ;)

I hope you like the introduction. In my mind, as I was imagining Cerys' and Michael's relationship, it was light and beautiful and happy, so I tried to portray it that way. Honestly, it makes me both happy and sad to think about what's in store. At the very least, it will definitely make things all the more interesting down the line, I think - let me know what you think!

Thank you guys so much for reading this story, and for coming over to the sequel as well. You guys are the best, and I'm super duper excited to interact and take you all on this next chapter of Loki and Cerys' journey!