Title: Heart Skipped a Beat

Fandom: Thor

Rating: PG-13/T

Genre: General, Romance

Characters: Loki & Sif

Summary: Once, her heart skipped a beat at the sight of Loki and his magic. She never told him, but he knew that she had been watching him from a far. So how did our ferocious Lady Sif turn into Damsel in Distress like this? Loki/Sif.

Disclaimer: I don't own Thor or any involved materials. Like, seriously? You all know this is Marvell's.

Warnings: Grammatical mistakes and stuff, I'm not sure. And uhh, I kind of blame my brother for this. He basically showed off in front of my face about how amazing this movie was, and really, I couldn't help it. So I watched it with him, and well… it's not that bad, I think.

Took place when they were young; do enjoy and leave a review?

It was on her sixteen birthday, if she recalled correctly, when her heart skipped a beat for the first time in her entire life.

What she didn't expect was the one who made her feel like that; not Thor, not Hogun, or Fandral, but that unpredictable God of Mischief, Loki.

He didn't do anything to her, nor did he seduce her, he's not that kind of person at all. It's more like what he did unintentionally made her heart skip a beat and pounded against her ribcage so hard and loud that she's afraid he might hear it.

"Is something the matter, Sif? Your face is red and hot." Her mother asked her worriedly behind her cake that day, but she didn't pay her any mind, as she was far too focused on a certain emerald-eyed prince at the corner of the room. She immediately gave her attention to her mother though, when she said something she shouldn't.

"And you keep staring at Prince Loki for more than an—"

"Mother! How's the cake?" Sif cut off abruptly, her voice loud and slightly trembling, and she could literally feel Loki's intense gaze on her back the moment she turned around. Why did she have to say it out loud, anyway? She knew that he could hear it, despite their distance, and her face felt even hotter than before.

A soft sigh escaped from her lips as she tried to stop her heart from pounding so hard, and finally decided to leave for some fresh air. She excused herself from the party politely and walked into the palace, slapping her cheeks once in a while to feel that they're still hot, much to her dismay.

'Stop blushing, damn it!' Sif cursed mentally and shook her head.

So how did our ferocious Lady Sif turn into Damsel in Distress like this? Well, it happened a few hours ago, right before the party started.

The cold chilling water sent shiver down her spines, but she didn't do anything to change it. It was obvious how much she loved cold water, especially when she's nervous, because it's her birthday, and her mother had told her to wear the dress she bought especially for her (and she did consider to not wear it this evening, but one look her mother gave her before she left the room told her that if she didn't wear it, something bad would definitely happen).

Sif looked up at the ceiling, lost in thought for a while; when Thor's words from yesterday replayed itself back in her mind.

'Loki asked me to tell you 'Happy Birthday', Sif. It seems like he can't make it tomorrow,' was what he said and she couldn't help but feeling disappointed at that. It was a fact that the second prince and she never went along well, but still, they're comrades, and despite the fact that he loved to pull his prank on her and everybody else, she trusted him with her life, and he knew that.

Her lips pursed into thin line, and the feeling of uneasiness weighted her heart. Somehow, she always felt that way every time Loki disappeared without a trace—well, not really without a trace. Everyone knew that he was training his magic some place hidden, in the forest or the basement, but still—she didn't like it, and she's sure that Thor didn't like it himself as well.

She asked him about that once, of course, and his reply was simple.

'I don't like it either, Sif, but what am I suppose to do? His disappearances make him look untrustworthy in the eyes of our friends, but you of all people should know how much he loves his books and his magic,' and she knew he was right, but still, she couldn't accept it.

Sif turned the faucet off and stepped out of the bathtub, snatching the fresh warm towel to cover her breasts down to her thighs and took a smaller towel to dry her long dark hair.

She pulled them up into a pony tail and started ruffling it with the towel, her eyes scanning her room in the process, and the corner of her lips curved downward in disapproval at the sight of her dress, hanging beautifully with all its glory on the handle of her wardrobe, next to her collection of swords and daggers and spears.

If her mother was mocking her by putting it right over there, then she just did a well-done job at it. She never liked the path she took for herself, anyway, and it's killing her to know that she would never approve of her decision to become a warrior.

Casting the thoughts aside, Sif marched down to her balcony, opening the transparent doors of glass swiftly and sat down on the railing, still clad in her short white towel, but she didn't really care. Her room was located on the back of their house, and the balcony faced the dark woods instead of the street, so no one could really see her in that form, because it's forbidden to step a foot into the wood without any permission from the King itself.

Or so, that's what she thought. It never occurred to her that she would see him—the mischievous emerald-eyed prince, Loki—stood there, by the woods, concentrating on something she couldn't understand, or see, what.

Maybe he was practicing his magic again, correction; he was definitely practicing his magic again. She had seen him training quite often in the woods, too often even, but she kept it to herself, and she's sure that he knew she knew, but he never brought it up, so she didn't try to use it as a topic either.

Sif watched from the balcony as he took a deep breath (his head tilted up slightly, his shoulders tensed, and his fists clenched) and whispered an enchantment softly (she could hear it clearly in her ears, as she was getting used to it for a long time now, and it was really quite that it's possible to hear him even from her angle).

She watched in awe when dim green lights surrounded his hands, before going down to his legs, the grass, and suddenly, the previously small grass turned into giant enormous plants, with several teal-colored flowers and gold fruits. The plant brought him up, higher and higher until it stopped right below her balcony, and he was practically leaning against the railing himself. His usually silk black hair was tangled messily around his face (she could see his face from this angle now, calm and collected as usual, only this time, she found serenity instead of the cold mask he always wore), and he seemed to be concentrating so hard on whatever it was he was trying to make, but he also looked as if he didn't.

Both of his eyes were closed, and his face looked like he was contemplating on something, but he didn't frown. It was as if he was sleeping—so innocent and peaceful and beautiful—and she could see, if possible, that he was glowing. His thin pale lips parted slightly (the urge to press her lips against him was so strong that she's surprised with herself), and when he let out a soft barely-heard sigh, her heart skipped a beat.

She paid it no mind and watched in adoration at his form, the form he had never let anyone seen before, not even his brother or his father that; she was sure of it, and leaned her head against the wall. He didn't seem to notice that she was there—Thor did mention once that magic took a lot of effort and concentration—but she never thought that it would take so much concentration that he couldn't even notice that she was there.

A warm smile formed on her lips. She loved—liked the fact that she could take him by surprise instead of the other way around, but she also liked watching him like this, the sun made his skin glow, and his hair was so messy that she wanted to comb through with her fingers, and—

"Sif, darling! If you're done getting dressed, your brother and I will be waiting downstairs!" her mother's shout startled her out of her thoughts, and apparently, his concentration was broken at the same time as well.

"Wha—"

"A-ah—?"

Everything happened in a flash. Loki looked back, just as startled as she was, his magic disappeared, and he would fall if she didn't catch his hand in time and pulled him up. His other hand grabbed the railing and he pushed himself up; his beautiful emerald eyes widened at what she was wearing, and the towel picked the right time to fall off her body and onto the floor. She looked down in shock and surprised, but he didn't, and she could see that he was staring at her breasts. Her face went hot and red, far too red, and he watched in fascination as her chest went red as well, then—

Her foot slipped.

"Gyaa—!"

Sif fell, pulling him down with her and Loki enchanted something that reversed their position, so it was him who fell first and not her, and he flinched and groaned when the back of his head hit the floor first.

"Sif? Are you okay? Did I just hear someone—"

"I'm fine Mom!" she shouted loudly, praying to Odin that her mother wouldn't enter the room, and felt relief washed over her heart when she walked away.

Relief wasn't the only thing that washed her heart though, as her clear sapphire eyes locked with his bright emerald ones.

She was completely naked, with her legs straddling his waist and her arms on either side of his head, and he was half-sitting half-lying, frozen and unsure of what to do in this kind of situation. Sif tried to move, to run away from this situation and forget about everything else, but when she shifted, her crotch accidentally pushed against something between his thigh, and a sensual moan made its way out of her lips, her heart pounded hard in her chest and she blushed harder, while he was staring at her, shock and dumbfounded as of what to do.

'Oh god. Oh god, oh god, I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead!' she thought, and her eyes started to pool, and she didn't think she would—but it seemed like she was going to cry. Loki eyes' widened more, if possible, and he tried to say something, but he was distracted by the sight of her breasts and there's nothing he could say or done, at this point, really.

"Uhh…"

"I'll just—"before he could finish, he enchanted himself to disappear, and she shivered when her skin made a contact with the cold ground.

How was she supposed to face him after that?

Loki watched as the Goddess of War left the garden hurriedly, his eyes glued to her back until she disappeared out of sight, and he finally decided to clear things off.

"Excuse me, brother." He politely excused himself from the crowd, and Thor asked where he was going, but he didn't care. If things were left just the way it was between him and Sif, then everyone would find out that something's wrong, and he would be the first suspect and uhh…

He'd be speechless, and it would be like, super awkward, and he really wouldn't want that to happen.

Loki clicked his tongue and covered his lips and cheeks with his hand. His face was burning, once again, and he felt like he was going to explode anytime soon.

He was fully aware of the fact that Sif had been seeing him went in and out of the woods—mostly because she was the only one who actually chose to have a balcony that faced the direction of the woods—but he didn't expect her to be watching him practicing his magic, especially on her birthday, because she was supposed to be somewhere else around that time instead of in her room.

Shaking his head, he whispered a spell that would lead him to her, and wasn't really surprised to find her on the balcony of the second floor. Her shoulders were trembling, and her legs (long, smooth nice legs) were shaking.

And, for the sake of his father, was she sobbing? Please tell him she's not.

A drop of tear trailed down from her hand to her wrist, and he groaned inwardly to himself. This was going to be hard.

"My Lady Sif," he started calmly, gaining her full attention. He watched as she rubbed the tears in her eyes and walked closer, pushing her hands away gently and wiped the tears with his thumbs.

"It's not that I—it's just that… I was really, really embarrassed!" she suddenly blurted out, her voice was no longer trembling, and her face looked just as flawless as before. There was this hint of fascinating color of red on her cheeks though, and he wondered what he could do to make her become like this again, in case he was bored.

"There is no reason for you to be embarrassed. I didn't see anything." Much, he wanted to add, but he kept the thought to himself. Sif shifted, stealing a glance at his way and stared down at her shoes.

"Well, I don't mind if it's with Thor, or Hogun, or Volstagg, or Fandral but—"she stopped, her words hung uncomfortably in the air and he waited patiently, as he usually did. "If it's you, I just…" and then she was speechless and at loss of what to say. It amused him greatly, but he tried not to laugh or smile, because it would make her feel worse. She could see it from his eyes though, and when she pouted, Loki laughed.

His laugh wasn't loud or hysterical; rather, she found it quite enjoyable. His voice was smooth even when he laughed, but he didn't sound cold or full of false pretense or lies. He sounded like the Loki she knew when he's young, and out of nowhere, her heart skipped a beat, and she flushed harder.

"I-it is not funny!" Sif demanded loudly, taking what's left of her pride and crossed her arms over her chest. She was still pouting though, so it didn't really help with his current condition.

Sif felt her heart pounded harder than before, the insides of her stomach twisted almost painfully, and she did the only thing she could think of to silence him—other than killing him, of course—by pulling him from the back of his neck and claimed his lips with hers.

He looked shock and surprised at her boldness, but pleased otherwise, and when she thought that enough was enough and tried to pull back, he responded to her kiss, and it's her turn to freeze.

His lips moved expertly against hers, making her dizzy and unsettled, and as hard as it was to admit it in front of him (god she hoped that he would never find out), it was her first kiss. The fact that she just gave it away, to him of all people, made her feel oddly annoyed yet relief at the same time.

When he finally pulled back, she wasn't sure whether to slap him on the face or kick him in the shin or kiss him again, but when he smiled, not that carefree innocent happy smile he showed her some time ago, but that usual devious sly smirk that was far from innocent, kicking him in the shin suddenly stood out from the others.

"Well, I must say, that I did not expect for My Lady to be so bold, but—"and before he could finish his words, Sif threw a punch that was meant to hit his jaw. Loki tilted his head just in time, his teeth flashed mockingly at her as he jumped onto the railing with one foot and used the other to step back when she flew to kick him.

Loki started laughing again when she attacked him blindly, her face flushed and so did her ears, her neck and her chest, and he had the urge to strip her out of her dress just to see how far it would go.

When she grabbed the nearest porcelain she could find though, he knew that this wouldn't turn out so good, and did some serious thinking of what kind of spell that could save him out of this before giving up and searched for Thor instead.

"Thor! Your brother needs some help over here!"

My deepest apology if you find this story to be stupid and awkward, with too many grammatical mistakes and word usage. I did not intend this story to be like this—it was supposed to be innocent with maximum of six hundred words—but well, Karma's a bitch, and she refused to stop my brain from over-working, so…

Review, at least? Pretty please? I'd buy you a cookie, and if possible, a Loki?