Alex stood in the middle of the open field, her normally shiny suit covered in scratches and blood. Around her were the bodies of a modern Hydra branch that the group of heroes had been sent to annihilate.

All in a day's work, she reflected proudly, but her excitement was quickly replaced with panic.

"Shit, JARVIS, I told Dad I'd be back to base at 1700! Why didn't you tell me I was two hours late?" she cried to no one in particular.

You seemed so absorbed in your task, the AI calmly explained, I wasn't about to ruin your kill streak. You certainly beat your Call of Duty score.

"Well I won't be able to beat it again at this rate! Damn!" With that expletive, she made a running start and took off, probably breaking her speed record as well.

"I'm sorry, I lost track of time, but I'm here!"

Her entrance was obviously unexpected, because Tony was nowhere to be found. Clint and Natasha, however, greeted her with grim faces.

"Your dad's furious," Clint warned, tightening the bandage on his arm.

"He's taking it out on Fury right now," his partner elaborated, her red hair caked with mud, "says that he shouldn't have sent you out alone."

Alex scowled at the idea of her father yelling at the director. "It's none of his business. I'm back now, I have the information, and there are a couple dozen Hydra goons out of commission. Mission accomplished."

Both agents sighed, but Clint spoke. "I don't think it's as simple as that, Alex."

"Look, Bruce already headed back to the Tower, Thor's back in Asgard researching the Tesseract, and Steve's in the hospital wing getting his arm straightened back out. Go talk to your dad. We're getting out of here." And with that, Natasha took Clint by the injured arm and led him out of the room.

"Damn," Alex swore, "this isn't fair!" As if on cue, Tony stalked into the lobby, a snarl ready to escape his lips.

"Alexandra Virginia, god forbid something isn't fair!" he cried, stepping out of his usual 'calm before the storm' persona.

"Well god forbid I complete a mission but end up going a little overtime!" she snapped right back, taking joy in the red creeping up his neck.

"What if you had been hurt and nobody knew where you were? Or, worse, what if you had been taken hostage? Alex, you need to take things into consideration before you dive in wholeheartedly." Tony must've believed this to be the final word, because he turned around and left her alone.

"I wish someone would take you away," she muttered, lying down on the bench Natasha and Clint had once inhabited. Her power nap, however, was interrupted by a swirl of… glitter?

"What the fuck is going on?" she heard her father say, his voice becoming distant.

"Dad?" she called after him, running down the hallway. Just as she reached him, he disappeared in a puff of smoke. His hunched over form was replaced with a taller, more slender figure.

"Dad, are you all right?" The smoke cleared before her and a loud laugh rang through the hallway. Alex nearly winced as she put the pieces together.

"You're him, aren't you? Loki? I'll have my father back, if it's all the same."

A villainous smirk crept across his pale face. "What's said is said."

"I didn't mean it!"

"Oh, you didn't?" He laughed again, and Alex nearly hit him. Despite her irritation, she attempted to be pleasant.

"Please, where is he?" she pleaded, the politeness foreign in her normally abrasive speech.

"You know very well where he is, Miss Stark," the god responded, and oh she very well knew how much she wanted to throttle him!

"Please bring him back," Alex begged again, "please!"

"Alexandra," Loki cooed, and his voice was like velvet, "go back to your tower. Play with your tools and your suits. Forget about your father."

"I can't."

"I've brought you a gift."

That caught Alex's attention. "What is it?"

The god smirked at her curious expression and reached into his robe pocket. He pulled out a small, transparent ball and began toying with it.

"It's a crystal, nothing more. But if you turn it this way," he tilted it slightly to the left, "and look into it, it will show you your dreams." He must've noticed her attempting to take a peek, because he slid it back into his pocket. "Of course, this isn't for an ordinary girl who gets screamed at by her father. Do you want it? Then forget about your father."

Alex shook her head. "I can't. I appreciate what you're offering, but I want my father back. He must be pissed."

"Alex, don't defy me."

She looked back at the god, her green eyes set determinedly on his.

"You're no match for me," he teased, and she felt her anger rising.

"I need my father back."

"He's there, in my castle."

"This is new for you," she observed. They were surrounded by wasteland, and ahead of them was a heavily fortified castle.

"It isn't Asgard," he admitted, "but it's home. For now, anyway. Do you still want to look for him?"

"Wait," she said, realization dawning over her face, "is that the Castle Beyond the Goblin City?"

Another laugh escaped his lips. "Turn back, Alex. Turn back before it's too late."

"I can't," she countered again, feeling like a broken record, "don't you understand that I can't?"

"What a pity."

She sighed, gazing out over the horizon. "It doesn't look that far."

"It's further than you think. Time is short, Alex." He used his magic to conjure up a clock, a magnificent gold timepiece that hung in front of them. "You have thirteen hours in which to solve the labyrinth before your father becomes mine forever. Such a pity."

Once the god had left her, Alex exhaled sharply. "The Labyrinth," she repeated to herself, "it doesn't look too hard. Come on, feet!" With an optimistic spring in her step, she walked toward the large brick wall, unsure of what trouble the God of Mischief would create for her.