Brittle. That's what Christabel's hands felt like presently. The corridor was chilled and cool, as she would have expected for a corridor in mid-October, however, now the cold was verging on arctic. Christabel let out a long breath, watching it crystallize before her. She huffed and stuck her hands in her pockets.

Deciding that pacing would help the blood circulate, she paced up and down the empty corridor. Walking up and down the same strip of locker plated wall repeatedly was taking it's toll on Christabel. She adjusted her finger-less gloves, that when she heard the crack. Her head shot up, her scarlet hair flipping back.

"Hello." She shouted through the corridor, before cursing herself. 'Hello', 'Who is there?' and 'I will be right back' were death wishes in her situation. She gently stepped backwards a few steps, so she was level with the adjourning corridor. Spinning carefully to face the space that had made the noise, Christabel dropped her book.

Hunched in the corridor was a man. A man clad in green leather and bronze, he had inky black hair back on his head. He was leaning on a staff. Slowly, and very slowly at that, the man raised his head. On his face was a manic grin as his green eyes bored into her. Her eyes widened.

"Do not flee; I may have need of you." He raised a hand and raised an eyebrow.

"Err, I… Err…" Was all Christabel could enunciation. The man pulled himself up on the staff; that was when Christabel could appreciate the tallness of him.

"I am Loki of Asgard. You are, mortal?" He pointed the staff towards her.

"Err… I'm Christabel of Alaska." He tilted his head a little and stared at her. "Well, nice meeting you Loki 'of Asgard', but Christabel has to leave now." She spun and went to move.

"No. I still have need of you mortal!" His voice rippled through her.

"What need?" Christabel asked, spinning back.

"I may need your assistance, and I am in no need of using Influence. Will you help me, Mortal?" Loki looked down at her, she never had been a tall girl, she was average but this guy was massive.

"If you stop calling me Mortal, then yeah, I don't see why not." Christabel nodded.

"What do you wish I call you by?" Loki asked.

"Christie that would be nice, what am I to call you?" Christabel asked.

"I have many names. Some call me Loki of Asgard; some call me The God of Mischief." He smirked, waving the staff around.

"I'll call you Loki. Are you that God? The one who destroyed Manhattan?" She asked. Loki grinned, laughing at his handy work. "You have that brother! Thor, the buff guy, to me it looks like he's overcompensating." Loki's expression was somewhere between happiness and anger.

"I have yet to decide whether I like you mort- Christie." Loki commented.

"I'm sure, we'll get on fine, never did like Manhattan."

"What the hell?" Callie whispered across the phone. "You have the Norse God of Mischief in your bedroom?!"

"When you say it like that it sounds dirty!" Christie replied, letting her head dangle over her bed as Loki inspected her closet. "I'm just lending a hand."

"You are mental Christabel, you know that." Callie cursed under her breath, knowing what Christie could get herself into.

"I'm lending him a hand; he had a pretty cool staff too." Christabel smirked.

"You're helping the third most wanted criminal in the entire USA because he has a cool staff… Christie where is your logic there?"

"In Manhattan." Christie commented, smirking and raising her legs into the air. Loki stared at her peculiarly.

"I'm telling my dad."

"No!" She shot up, "no Callie no."

"I'm telling him Christie. He needs to know."

"No, he'll tell S.H.I.E.L.D., he'll tell Fury." Loki's head shot up, Christie raised a finger.

"Exactly, you saw what that guy did. Christie see sense."

"No, I've heard the stories, messed up and psychotic as he may be, I know brother issues when I see them Callie. I know myself. I want to help."

"You are helping the wrong side Christie. Please let me tell Daddy."

"Callie, no. Damien. Just Damien." That word shut Callie up. "Better?"

"Better. I won't tell Daddy, but for goodness sake, Christie look after yourself."

"I will." Christie put down the phone and turned to Loki. "There's a spare bedroom, don't destroy it by doing whatever you Asgardians do."

"Who is Damien?" Loki asked.

"My brother."

"You appear to have some distaste towards him."

"Damien tried to kill me, because I don't have the same father as him." She looked at him.

"I know that feeling."

Yeah I know it's bad. But I started writing and it just sort of formed ...

Don't kill me.

~E.V Cain 3