Friction and Compromise
A gift fic for spyral81
Jane relaxed against the feathery, overstuffed cushions of their titanic bed, sighing in delight as the rosy sunset light drizzled through the window and warmed her naked skin. Alfheim was a beautiful planet, like something straight out of Tolkien's utopian fantasies. The light elves were the ultimate curators of nature; the very house they lived in was poised in the upper reaches of a sentinel tree, its branches woven in intricate patterns to form the walls and ceiling.
That devotion to nature had led them to some incredible breakthroughs in botanical science. In fact, just that morning, a horticulturalist had confirmed Jane's long-held suspicion that—
"My darling," Loki lifted his head from where he had been busy between her thighs, "If you won't commit to this properly then there's no sense in my continuing, is there?"
Jane shifted restlessly, caught between the urge to force his tongue back to better use and apologize for her abstraction. As she had learned to do during the short course of their marriage, however, she ended up compromising.
"I'm sorry," she said, smiling, "you know how I get. It's just that the possibilities of this treatment are so exciting," she laced her fingers with his and squeezed, "It's hard not to think about. The multitude of applications alone could revolutionize..."
Loki sighed—the cool stir of breath against her sweat-slicked skin making her shake—and pulled away.
Jane immediately redirected her enthusiasm. "But I promise," and now she dragged his hand up between her breasts so he could feel the stuttering beat of her heart beneath the soft flesh, "you've got my undivided attention."
"Hmm," he murmured, pressing a wet kiss just beneath her bellybutton, riding out her instinctive jerk of laughter. "Somehow I doubt that. Perhaps we should return to Midgard; the sooner you verify your hypothesis, the sooner I might have the pleasure of my wife's consideration once more."
And with that, he sat up and slid off the enormous bed they shared, covering the lovely sight of his sculpted ass with the robe that lay abandoned on the floor.
Jane fought the urge to squeal in frustration; it would only feed his delight.
Instead, she arched a brow, propped herself up on her elbows—it was the angle that made the most of her small chest—and said, "Really? You've played this game before and it never really goes your way, does it?"
When she tapped her thigh and inched her legs even further apart, Loki focused right where she wanted. But this time it was clear he did not intend to cave.
"Do go on, my dear," he said, grinning, "I would never hinder a lady in pursuit of her...satisfaction."
"You jerk," she muttered. But she settled back to do just that.
Marriage had taught her there were certain things it was never wise to compromise on.
()()()
"Geez...Jane!" Darcy shot upright from the lab bench, "When did you get back?"
"Just now," she replied, bracing herself her former intern's hug. "I didn't think you'd be here. Weren't you still in London with, um..."
"Ian," she supplied. "Nah. He got weirded out after the whole," she gestured aimlessly, "SHIELD collapse and Alien Invasion 2.0. And then there was that whole deal with robot armies and flying cities...and government intervention and subsequent infighting. He couldn't hack it.
So when you left to settle the whole Ragnarok shindig," it was something to hear the doom of the Aesir—narrowly averted by herself, Thor, and a shockingly not-dead Loki—referred to as a 'shindig', "he decided to move back onto his grandma's farm in Surrey," she stuck out her tongue. "Good riddance."
Jane laughed. Ever-unflappable, Darcy had never believed in quitting when the going got weird as hell.
"So I moved back when Tony offered me the job," she finished. "Thanks for the referral, by the way. You know, I always thought you were the most disorganized scientist in the world, but he and Bruce make your files look immaculate. Well, Jarvis takes care of the digital stuff," she admitted, "but there's still plenty left for me to clean up around here."
"Speaking of Bruce," Jane jumped in, still burning to share her data with someone who could verify the extent of her breakthrough, "is he around? There's something I've found that might," she swallowed, lowering her voice, "might help him with his condition."
"Holy shit!" Darcy did not care about volume, "Yeah! I mean, he's out and about somewhere with Stark, but he oughta be back soon. Damn, girl," she crooned, "and here I thought...planet of the light elves, warm and relaxing, and a husband like Loki...but you were working all the time, weren't you?"
"Well," she bit her lip in a vain attempt to fight off a blush, "not all the time."
"There ya go! I wanna hear all the details, but first," she eyed Jane up and down, "if you're gonna consult with Bruce when he gets back, you'll probably want to change. I mean, the sexy hippie look works fine for me, but he's a little more prudish."
"Shit," Jane gasped, crossing her arms over the nearly transparent scraps of gauze that made up the bodice of her dress, "I forgot."
"S'all good," Darcy said, linking her arm around Jane's and pulling her towards the door, "I still keep a suitcase of your crap. Although, you should think of incorporating looks like this more often. Beats the hell out of flannel and denim."
()()()
"What do you think?"
Properly dressed—in flannel and denim, thank you, Darcy—Jane perched on a lab stool and studied Bruce's stolid face as he studied the tablet. He'd already gone through the information twice over, slowly, thoroughly, and entirely in silence.
Jane liked Bruce; she liked him very much. But if he didn't say something soon, she was going to explode. Coming halfway across the galaxy with news like hers, she expected more than careful consideration out of the man who stood to benefit most from it.
Bruce sat back from the tablet, slowly unhooking his reading glasses, folding them carefully, and tucking them into his breast pocket. His lips pursed and twitched; he still didn't say a word.
"Didn't you understand it?" she asked at last. "This plant, when properly processed, becomes a cellular re-coder. As long as we have an original sample of your DNA from before the gamma contamination, we can reset you to who you were before the accident. The other guy..." he flinched, as though just mentioning the Hulk could bring him out, "he wouldn't exist anymore."
He chuckled; that weary, resigned chuckle he so often gave. "There's no 'before the accident', Doctor Foster," he said. "I've come too far for that."
Jane hated, hated, cynical one-liners. It had taken her months to break Loki from his deplorable habit of remarking how far he was from redemption, and she wasn't about to start the process all over again with Banner.
Besides, judging from the glower Loki was shooting her from the corner of the lab, he wouldn't have the patience for it.
"Look," she pressed his hand with hers, "I know you can't go back. It won't fix..." she stopped. She wasn't a therapist, damn it. "But what it will do is stop him from hurting anyone else again."
"Or helping anyone again," he said.
"Have you embraced your monster at last, Doctor Banner?" Loki asked.
Jane shook her head; Bruce and Loki had never really gained even the uneasy equilibrium he'd achieved with most of the other Avengers, and the last thing she wanted was another fight, physical or otherwise.
He ignored her. "An alter-ego can be a useful scapegoat in a profession like yours."
"It's your decision," Jane jumped in, "but this gives you a choice."
"I guess it does," was all he said.
()()()
Later that night, Loki watched Jane brush out her hair with angry, choppy strokes, his face impassive.
"You won't be truly satisfied until you've convinced Banner to take the cure, will you?"
She put down the brush and sighed.
"No," it was a bitter word to say, "I can't make him do something he doesn't want to. I just thought he would want to, that's all," she tugged idly at the ends of her hair, biting her lips.
"Besides...does it make me completely selfish if it ticks me off that he didn't even get excited over the other applications of the drug? I mean," she threw out her arms, "we could eliminate practically any illness with it except congenital genetic disorders! Doesn't that seem worth a closer look to you?"
"Would you like me to answer that honestly?"
"No," she replied. "You'll just piss me off."
He laughed, but gently. "How well you know me, love."
"I'm just so sick of men and their selfish angst," she growled. "No offense."
It was a testament to how much he loved her that he didn't take offense. Or if he did, he showed none of it. Drawing closer, he closed his long, slender hands around Jane's shoulders. His skillful touch right at the source of her tension made Jane purr with delight, despite her irritation. For a few moments he kneaded the knotted muscles in silence.
Then his fingers slid lower.
"I know this day did not go according to plan," he murmured, "but would you consider letting me improve it for you nonetheless?"
"Mmm," she groaned. "Please do."
()()()
Interplanetary jet-lag was a bitch. Despite Loki's efforts to exhaust her, Jane's eyes opened wide at quarter to two that morning and refused to close again. So she staggered out of bed and poured herself some water, noticing only after draining two glasses that Loki was no longer with her.
Curious, she grabbed a robe, consulted Jarvis, did a double-take and asked him to verify—any late-night meeting between Bruce and her husband could not possibly go well—and headed for the research lab as fast as her tired legs could carry her.
When she reached the lab however, there was nothing but the quiet mutter of voices to break up. And what she heard made her linger out of sight. Just for a moment, anyway.
"—not going to take advice from you, of all people," Bruce sounded almost amused by whatever Loki had been saying, "Did Jane put you up to this?"
"Jane is the only reason you even have this opportunity," was his rejoinder. "She believes in redemption."
"And you do? How many people have you killed, exactly?"
No response. Jane grit her teeth, fighting the urge to go in, guns blazing, in Loki's defense. But curiosity was stronger—it always was, for her—and she waited.
"Lost count? Well, so have I," Bruce went on, cold self-loathing hanging on every syllable. "I don't deserve to forget that. I don't deserve to go back and pretend none of it ever happened."
"Very well,"
Jane jumped. She knew Loki's tone well enough to hear his sincerity; whatever anger he still harbored towards Bruce for getting the better of him once, he was trying to help him now. Of course, even Loki's sincerity came with a generous helping of irony, but even so...
"Very well," he said again. "So you will not accept the cure for yourself. You feel you need to bear the burden as the only way to atone for it. Very well. But had you ever considered that the Hulk, whom you believe is your just punishment, is not a punishment you suffer alone?"
Silence.
"You know that you will never fully master your rage. Every day you allow that monster to live in you is another day you may lose control. Consider that before you reject my wife's proposal."
As Loki's brisk footsteps approached the door of the lab, Jane shook herself out of awestruck silence and prepared to run for it.
Bruce stopped him.
"Why does any of this matter to you? We're hardly friends, after all."
"Perhaps it doesn't," Loki replied. "But it matters to Jane. Too much of her mind is taken up in your predicament," she stuck out her tongue and resolved to punish him for that remark later as her years of marriage had taught her how, "and I would rather it were focused on me."
"You're a real piece of work, aren't you, puny God?"
"Indeed. Nevertheless, do make up your mind soon, won't you? My wife has far more important things to do than linger on Midgard and help you through a moral crisis."
Jane held her breath; the two men were poised on that razor-edge between resolution and meltdown.
"Fine. And...thank her for me, would you?"
"I will."