Uncorrected Personality Traits
A.N.: Loki belongs to Norse Myth. Marvel took him out, shook him up and played with him. I'm doing the same. What is Marvel's remains Marvel's.
"Uncorrected personality traits
That seem whimsical in a child
May prove ugly
In a fully grown adult"
"Uncorrected Personality Traits"
Robyn Hitchcock
JANE
Jane heard a noise from her kitchen and looked at the clock. It was 1:30 am. Damn. Whoever or whatever it was, they were not making enough noise for it to be Thor. Thor had all the grace of a herd of wildebeest on their annual migration - full speed ahead and just run over anything foolish enough to be in your way. She wished she had a taser like Darcy's - all she had handy was a janitorial toilet plunger. She grabbed it made her way cautiously to the kitchen. There, standing in the comforting cool glow of the open refrigerator door, was Loki. She took a firm grip on the handle of the plunger.
One delicate eyebrow rose. "Are you planning to attack me with that, whatever it is, Jane Foster?"
"I'm considering it. What are you doing here?"
"It should be fairly obvious that I'm looking for something to eat." Loki busied himself opening various jar and containers, sniffing at them and ocassionally sampling their contents with a finger.
"You cant just open and sniff and stick your fingers into my food." Jane waved the plunger at him.
"Why not?"
"It's rude and unsanitary." Knowing she was going to regret it, Jane motioned Loki over to the kitchen table. "Sit down, behave yourself and I'll make a sandwich for you." Jane had never seen anyone who could lounge in a kitchen chair, but Loki managed to pull it off.
"Normally you sleep through one of my nocturnal visits." Loki watched Jane as she worked, restlessly drumming his fingers on the table top.
"What? How often have you done this?" *That's it I'm getting a dog, a big one, a really big one. A mastiff. No, they drool too much. A German Shepherd or a Belgian Malinois. I'll talk to Coulson tomorrow, if I survive this night*
"If I'm in the area and I'm peckish, I stop by. Your selection has improved greatly since Thor came back. Has he bedded you yet?"
Jane managed, just barely, not to slice the tip of her finger off along with the tomato. "I don't think that is any of your business."
"Ah. That would be a no, then." Loki laughed. "I'm afraid that you are going to have to take the bull by the horns, Jane Foster. If you're waiting for him to throw you down in some fragrant meadow, tear your clothing off and ravish you like the men in one of those cheap Midgard romance novels, you will be waiting a very long time."
Jane, remembering Thor's chaste kiss to her hand and how she'd had to take the initiative and go for the lip lock, was afraid Loki had a point. "What are you doing in this area, anyway?"
"Spying on S.H.I.E.L.D. of course." Loki made a tsking sound. "I thought you were supposed to be intelligent?"
Jane wasn't going to banter insults back and forth with Loki - instead she discretely spit on the sliced tomatoes before adding them to Loki's sandwich. It was a good spit, a juicy, big glob of it. She topped off the sandwich and handed it to Loki. "Take it and go."
Loki got up, stretched, took the sandwich from Jane, grabbed a beer from the fridge, then like Keyser Söze in the film "The Usual Suspects', he was gone.
Jane felt a little childish about having spit on Loki's sandwich, but ultimately decided she was just acting as an agent for karma. What goes around comes around and in Loki's case what was coming back around was not likely to be pretty.