What Jane hated at black-tie affairs more than the prospect of having to mingle with insipid brown-nosers and blue-blooded, scholarly physicists, was the mathematical certainty that she would run into her ex. Not a drinker by nature as she could never hold her liquor, Jane swiped a long-stemmed wine flute from a passing server, sipping less than delicately as she scanned the room for Donald. Not the contrived photo-ID, "blonde Norse God" Donald, but the Oxford-graduate, Union Jack-waving English MD with sharp, calculating black eyes and russet, curly hair. He and Thor could not have been more different.
Her primary reason for coming here tonight was to maintain her stature as a respected astrophysicist among her colleagues; she used to do it to imbibe the meager, pity funds that went into her research, but since S.H.I.E.L.D took her beneath their wing, this was entirely about blending in. She had to swallow her pride and walk amongst the elite for a night.
"Ah, starting early, are we?" She smiled, turning towards the familiar seasoned, slightly-Eastern voice of Erik Selvig, who held a wine flute in one hand as he admired her deep-red evening gown and loose dark hair, which she'd curled for the occasion, giving an appreciative paternal nod. "Nice dress. Perhaps I'll join you." He threw back a sip, glancing around. "It's a hell of a lot better than pissing time away with this ridiculous crowd."
"Erik, what is with you?" Jane threw him a sideways smile as they meandered slowly through the crowd. "I swear you've had a 'pep in your step' for the last seven months, and we haven't even seen or heard from… you know who," she lowered her voice, "for almost a year. I swear there's something you're not telling me. There's something you know, admit it!"
Erik gave a very un-Erik-like chuckle, placing his palm on the small of her back as they turned into another room full of people. "Let's just say, kiddo, that I have a … new lease on life."
"Oh my God." Jane stopped in her tracks, taking the six-foot-four build of the dark-haired man who had his back to them a mere three feet away, and was talking animatedly. "Erik," she hissed, "Keep talking like everything's normal and turn me around. Slow-ly." He looked in the direction she was furtively nodding towards, and seemed oblivious to the stature of Donald Blake, which was odd, given that he was very well acquainted with the man.
"Jane, what are you tal-"
"Jane. Foster." Jane winced, briefly shutting her eyes against the forthcoming pain of conversation she knew was coming, like an inevitable car crash. "As I live and breathe."
Dr. Donald Blake broke rank with his alpha male groupies and strode confidently towards her, far too close for her liking, cutting a dashing figure as he took both of her petite hands in his large ones and looked her up and down, as a man might admire a nice model car or a coveted painting. "Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes. It's lovely to see you, darling." He swept down and placed a kiss on either of her cheeks, and while inwardly a storm raged out of control, her face was composed and polite from years of practice.
"Don. It's nice to see you, too," she lied, remembering their last fight before he left her New Mexico office in a huff.
He chuckled affably. Jane hadn't lied when she'd told Thor that her ex was great at public speaking; people loved him, they loved his crisp, British accent and impeccable manners, and he in turn got drunk off the attention. "What on earth are you doing in Boston? Last I heard, you were, forgive me," he directed the apology to his on-looking friends over his shoulder rather than to her, "Chasing erm, little green men and wormholes around Area 51." His friends, obviously high brow physicians and plastic surgeons, mumbled quiet laughter; which in Jane's book, was even worse than if they'd laughed aloud.
Jane gave up the mask of a smile on her face and yanked her hands away. "Hm. Clearly, some things haven't changed. Bye, Don. Enjoy the Gala and drinks." She whipped around, marching away. "Come on, Erik." Erik was looking strangely at the taller man, his head titled appraisingly, and it stopped Jane in her tracks, it was almost as if… but… no, she knew Erik had been married once, and to a woman. He couldn't possibly be gay, and he'd seen Donald many, many times over the years, so it made no sense. "Erik," Jane snapped. "Let's go. Please."
Erik held up a finger to hold her at bay, and it looked longer than usual. "One moment, Jane, I'd like a word with this one."
Don was suddenly right next to her, holding out a hand to the older man, and she wanted to vomit at his close proximity. "Selvig, you old geezer. How the hell are you? I haven't spoken with you since that conference in Heidelberg. Where've you been the last year and a half?"
Jane looked up at Erik, betrayed that he wouldn't march her straight out of there, but he held the taller man's interest with a flinty gaze. It struck her that Erik's eyes had a grayish hue to them she hadn't noticed before, and he looked at Donald for a moment, scrutinizing him with a faraway look. "Yes… yes. I've been fine, Dr. Blake." She watched Erik study Donald's name tag for a brief moment, then he put a fatherly arm around her shoulder. "As it happens, Jane here made some extraordinary discoveries about a year ago, and I've been assisting her in her research that's coming along marvelously."
"Erik," Jane whispered into his shoulder, "Don't say anything else, you know how he is and we shouldn't be talking about our work. Please. Let's just … go."
But it was too late. Donald's eyes glittered with interest as he addressed Jane, stepping closer. "So you finally found what you were after out there after all those months, eh?" He lowered his voice, and she could smell the alcohol as he breathed on her. "Perhaps I left too suddenly when I did. I am sorry about that, Jane. I'm sorry about us."
Jane cleared her throat, looking anywhere but his eyes. She remembered that morning, waking up in his arms after he surprised her with a visit, adjoining a medical conference he had in Santa Fe. He had tried to convince her to give up this "nonsense" and go back with him to New York, and the break-up fight had ensued. "It's – it's fine," she said strongly. "I mean, so much has happened between now and then that it's hardly of consequence in the grand scheme of things. Really."
Donald looked between Jane and Erik, the latter of whom was still staring unsettlingly at him. "Jane, might I have a word? In private?"
"Um, no." Jane turned curtly and began walking away, this time with Erik in tow, and Donald right behind him.
"Jane," he called sharply, but she ignored him right up until she found herself barricaded by a punch bowl on a white linen tablecloth. Darcy was on the other side of the drinks table in a questionably short, silver party dress that didn't belong, flirting with an artfully, messy-haired male server. She nudged the guy with her elbow. "Here comes the show."
Jane knew she was trapped, and whirled around. "Look, just go back to your friends, okay, Don? I have nothing to say to you." Erik joined Darcy on the other side of the table, looking more amused than anything. Jane shot daggers at him with her eyes.
"Well, I have a few things to say to you. I'd prefer to say them in private, but I'm not bloody well about to just let this opportunity go," Don said.
Jane huffed prettily. "Fine. What do you want?"
Don gathered himself and asked as nonchalantly as he could, "Are you involved with anyone at the moment?"
"Yes, she is."
Jane's jaw dropped and she looked accusingly at her assistant. "Darcy!"
The girl merely shrugged. "Well you are. Er, sort of." She looked at Don. "It's sort of a long-distance relationship kind of thing, and she hasn't heard from him in quite a while, but he's committed. And he's strong. Really strong. Y'know, the kind of strong you don't want to mess with, strong."
Don blinked at Darcy. "You're that college girl Jane hired at Tremonton. Why are you even here?"
Darcy bit into a twisted cheese breadstick and glared back at him. "Free food?"
"Ugh!" Jane threw her hands up and dug the ticket for the coatroom out of her purse. "Okay. You know what, we're leaving now, and we're going to pretend this," she readjusted the thin purse strap on her shoulder, glaring at Don, "Never happened. Who I'm seeing, or not seeing is none of your business, as you forfeited all rights to me the second we broke off the engagement-"
"You were engaged?"
"Quiet, Darcy! So that's the end of it. C'mon guys, we're leaving. You," she pointed her finger at Don's immaculate tuxedo, "Are going to stay here, and stay out of my business. We're over. Get it? Got it? Good." To her annoyance, he just looked amused. That was something that always used to drive her nuts; he never took her or her work seriously. He would always say she was so cute. Cute. Like her doctorate in astronomical physics, her publicly recognized research into interstellar data particles counted for nothing, as if her secret ambition was to be a menial laborer and cater to his greatness.
"This isn't over, Jane." Don called as they headed towards the door.
"Yes it is!" She yelled back.
"Oh damn it," Erik felt the lapel of his tux at the entrance way. "I'm sorry, Jane, I must have left my fountain pen on the table. It's an heir loom from my father, I can't leave it. I'll be right back. You can both go wait in the cab. I'll be just a minute." Jane was too flummoxed to argue, and as she made her escape with Darcy, Erik strode purposefully towards Donald, who was watching from the other side of the room. "You have something I want," he said coldly, and gripped the larger man's wrist. "This way."
"Selvig? What the hell-"
"Quiet," Erik snarled, and he bore his cold, gray gaze into the other man's eyes. Donald did exactly as he was told. Erik took him to the men's restrooms, making sure all stalls were empty and there wasn't a person in sight. Donald was still entranced. Erik splayed his fingers over the other man's face in what looked like a spider clutching its prey. "I've grown tired of this mortal body. It's old, tired all the time, it has trouble urinating, and though his political and career connections have a dubious advantage in my plans for this Realm , I'm beginning to suspect yours might have more… fringe benefits, If we play our cards right." A pale, blue light rose up in a mist from Erik's hand, and Don's eyes were wide with horror. "Do try not to scream, Dr. Blake. It's so untidy when you mortals do. This will take but a moment."
The blue energy transferred from Erik's palm, feeding in a misty stream into Donald's mouth. The larger man convulsed and writhed, but he was glued to the spot as Loki's power and entity poured into his body. A few minutes later, a confused and bewildered Erik emerged from the restroom, feeling that he had consumed too much wine, half remembering what had happened in the last year.
As the cab with the team of three pulled away, Donald walked alongside it in a smart, black trench coat; staring with full intent at Jane, who helplessly stared back.
In Donald's skin, Loki smiled to himself as he watched the cab drive off. He fixed the collar of the trench coat and secured the posh, leather gloves onto long fingers that quite mirrored his own. This was going to be fun.