This drabble is brought to you by that one second in The Dark World trailer where Thor seems to be wearing casual clothes. Also kissing.
"She searches for you", he had said once, a long time ago. She had never stopped looking then, not even when the Chitauri had destroyed one of her cities, screaming and fighting her way back to Thor. Only missing him by an hour. She was a stubborn one, that Midgardian. Heimdall had kept an eye on her, so to speak, knowing well that the Prince would want to heard of her once in a while. She was searching (for him) and researching (the stars).
Finally, she got what she wanted.
Heimdall keeps looking, just in case.
The first thing they need to do, Darcy has decided, is to buy him some clothes. Jane rolls her eyes and he smiles like the oversized puppy he is, and a few hours later he is in a perfect Midgardian outfit with a perfect Midgardian hairdress - it feels foreign on him, but he will get used to it. He has to.
He knows other things will be harder to get used to - no longer able to visit Asgard, Mjolnir not longer by his side. It is hard, being a fallen God. (For the second time, he notices with a bit of sarcasm, but he can't make his way back this time.) He misses his home, his family, his friends. He misses the Warrior Three and the fierce Lady Sif. His misses his power at the tip of his fingers, running in his veins, pumping with his heart. But, mostly, he misses no longer having to watch after Loki - which is ironic, comes to think about it.
He leans again the balcony, lost in thoughts. The sky is a bright blue and he wishes for the night, for the stars. Jane will tell him all about astronomy and will receive tales of foreign planets, of far away civilizations, in return. It is his favourite part of the day - not that he says that aloud. The homesickness will fade, eventually.
He hears her, soft as a feather, silent as a mouse, when she opens the bay window to come next to him. During those few seconds when the door is open, he can hear Darcy playing one of her games on the big screen, screaming and laughing and throwing insults at imaginary opponents. The sound fades when the door closes. He looks at Jane and smiles, but none of them deem it necessary to talk, only looking at the urban landscape in front of them.
"Tony Stark called," she says eventually, uneasiness yet excitation in her voice.
Thor has been on Earth long enough to understand why, to know Stark is his own legend in Jane's circle. Meeting him would mean the world to her. Probably. He chuckles. "What does the Man of Iron want?"
"Well, that's the point, actually. He no longer is."
And then she explains what happened last Christmas, and he frowns a little more which each sentence. Stark seemed more attached to his suits than Romanoff to her guns, so Thor fails to understand how he could decide to blow up all of them. It simply doesn't make sense.
"So he wants to come and say hello, one saviour of the Earth to another. His words."
Thor chuckles again, wonders where everyone else might be now. He knows for sure Steve Rogers isn't that far, working for Washington - whatever Washington is. Romanoff and Barton are most likely doing their spy things somewhere, and Thor wouldn't be surprised if the Hulk was to show up with Stark. One happy dysfunctional family, they all make.
"Coulson wanted to come by today, but I told him we were busy."
That he can't quite understand yet. The little agent still alive? Impossible. He will only believe it if he sees him with his own eyes, especially after witnessing Loki killing him. Thor wonders how such a miracle could happen, how the son of Could managed to cheat death so easy. How…
Jane hooks her finger in the neck of his tee-shirt to drag him to her, and he stops thinking altogether. His hands comes to cup her cheeks, and her lips are soft again his, a small moan in the back of her throat. Suddenly, he understands how busy they'll be today, and grins against her lips.
He doesn't have to look to know it's Loki who stands beside him, arms folded behind his back. They stands side by side on the broken bridge, their feet almost touching the edge. They remain silent and still for long minutes until… "Can you see him?"
"I can see everything."
"But can you see him?"
The annoyance is almost palpable in his voice, impatient and clipped. "Yes" is Heimdall's only answer.
"Is he… happy?"
"Yes."
"Good… Good."