Pulse

Loki has managed to escape his captors at the end of The Avengers. Using what little magic he has, he teleports as far away as he can and ends up in a stranger's kitchen. The young woman he finds there reluctantly agrees to let him stay, after some threats, while he tries to regain his power. "Why don't you just kill me?" "Darling, I wouldn't want anyone to come looking for you." Dark Loki x OC

Set at the end of Avengers when Loki is apprehended. From there, things do not go as they should.

Rated M for language and adult themes ;)

Chapter One: Don't Move

Eve balanced her cell phone in between her right ear and shoulder as she ate a bowl of cereal. "I'm completely at a loss, Sam," she groaned and plopped down on her couch. "My building literally got blown up yesterday. I have no job anymore-due to aliens-and now I have to fill out job applications. I'll just leave the 'why did you leave your last job' section blank and hope they don't ask."

"And if they do ask?" Sam responded, sounding too amused for her liking.

"Then I'll say that aliens blew up my last job. It could be worse. At least the entire event was televised. It's not like I'm some nut making the whole thing up." She hastily slid her bowl onto the coffee table so she could wrangle her long brown hair into a messy ponytail.

"Shit, I should quit my job and say that aliens blew it up," he laughed. Eve sat stone-faced and stared ahead at her muted TV which had been stuck on the local news for the better part of the day. Shots of torn up streets and crying civilians rolled on and on.

"At least we don't live in the city, that must be a nightmare right now." She retrieved her cereal mid sentence and chowed down.

"You're lucky your mom's house is-"

"Sam, let's not talk about my mom," she bit into the phone.

"What? Jeez, all I did was mention her."

"Well don't."

"Fine. Yeah. Anyway, do you want me to come over?"

Eve pretended she was considering it before delivering a curt, "No."

"Are you really this upset about what I said? I didn't even say anything!" He dripped desperation off of every word.

"I'm not mad, Sam, just have a lot on my plate. I'll call you tomorrow. Deal?"

"Deal," he made no effort to hide his disappointment and hung up.

Sam was a stand up guy, there was no doubt about that. Eve had known him forever. Longer than forever, their mothers had them on playdates when they were still in their respective wombs twenty five years ago. Everyone in her life-including herself at times-had always thought that her and Sam would end up together in the end. They would live a moderately happy life off his steady paycheck, pop out a few rugrats and do all the things married people are supposed to do. She had tried for years to push past whatever was stopping her from loving him that way, but when she thought about their future the bottom line was that she would be bored.

So when Sam finally got up the courage to kiss her last week, it left a bittersweet taste in her mouth. In that moment it was more clear than it ever had been. When she rejected him, he pretended to take it very well. Still, their conversations since had been tense and she didn't really want to see him. She was confident that the wounds would heal in time.

She stood quickly and sighed as the remaining milk in her bowl spilled onto the carpet. The events of the day before had left her distracted and apparently careless. She trudged to the kitchen to retrieve paper towels and threw the bowl on the counter along the way.

As she got down on her hands and knees to soak up the liquid, she heard the ceramic bowl crash to the floor. She righted herself on her knees and grimaced. Had she really placed it so close to the edge that-

She faltered as a long-fingered hand pressed a cool, sharp chunk of ceramic up against her throat from behind. "Do not move," commanded a sultry voice in her ear, "not an inch."

Earlier

Agent Barton leaned back and glared at the criminal, clutching his bow so tight his fingers were white. "Are you sure I can't just kill him? I'll make it real quick, easy to clean up."

Tony, lounging in a metal chair, didn't even look up from his newspaper. "I have no objections. Man, we are in here a lot today!" He gestured towards the crinkled pages and smiled wide at Barton, who remained unamused. "Eh, lighten up. He'll get what's comin' to him. Hammertime himself is going to make sure of that."

Barton seemed not to hear this and raised his weapon, aiming it right between Loki's cool blue eyes. Thor snatched it from him, effectively breaking his concentration. "Be careful, archer. You'd be wise not to threaten my kin."

Offended, Barton lunged forward to steal his bow back. "You don't know what it was like," he sneered through gritted teeth.

Thor whipped the bow out of his hands now so that it flew across the room. "I do not doubt your trouble. I simply request you mind your place."

"My place?" He scoffed. "My place?"

"Loki has done evil deeds here, there is no dispute. But were he not restrained and outnumbered, he would easily best you in combat. So I say-mind your place. To threaten him is to threaten a wolf in a trap. Shameless."

At this the God of Mischief perked up. "Do you mean to say that I'm as good as dead anyway, brother?" He leaned back in his chair. The room they were in was too small for the four of them. Loki sat at one end as the others positioned themselves away from him. His wrists and ankles were bound, yet he still looked smug and comfortable.

Thor stared at the floor. "Do not speak to me."

"Why not? It was a simple question."

"I am under no requirement to answer your questions."

Loki grinned, desperate to push his mock brother's temper. "If I'm as good as dead, why not let the archer kill me? He deserves to deliver the killing blow just as much as-"

"Enough!" Thor boomed, slamming his fist into the wall and leaving a sizable dent in the metal.

Tony widened his eyes a bit. "Excessive, dontcha think?"

Thor's eyes looked like they were about to leap out of his skull. "What is taking Fury so long? We have been watching him in shifts for far too long, now. All I need is to get Loki back to Asgard so our father-"

"Your father," Loki corrected.

"And yet you call me brother!"

"As a farce, a mockery of us. A frost giant raised side by side with a royal blooded Asgardian. Laufeyson and Odinson, one big happy family."

Thor was fuming, gripping Mjolnir now as Barton had gripped his bow. Tony recognized the potential danger in this. "Okay, big guy, why don't you head outside for some fresh air?" Thor complied quietly, steam practically shooting out of his ears. Barton, meanwhile, maintained his severe eye contact with the man who'd taken over his mind.

Loki chuckled. "Oh, you sad angry man. Still upset I used you as my pawn?"

Tony abandoned his carefree attitude momentarily. "Cool it. I've had enough of your shit for today. In fact, for a lifetime."

"I'm bored," Loki continued lazily, "maybe you could help us pass the time, archer, by describing what it was like to be under my hypnosis?"

Barton inhaled sharply. "Okay, we need to get this guy a gag or something. Anything to shut him up."

Tony threw down his paper. "What an excellent idea! I'm sure I can scrounge up something. Back in two shakes." He left swiftly, armor clanking with each step, and let the door slam behind him.

"Just you and me," Loki's lips curled into a devilish smile as he eyed up Barton. "What shall we talk about?"

"Keep your goddamn mouth shut, you got it?"

"You know, even though the lovely Miss Romanov was able to knock you out of my trance, you still have traces of my magic lingering inside you. Can you feel them? They're there, oh, trust me. It's why you'll never forget about it. Not a day will go by that you don't think about it. You'll be constantly reminded that I took you so easily-" He stopped abruptly as Barton rushed over to him, neglecting to retrieve his bow.

"Maybe Thor was right," Barton spat, "to kill you like this would be shameless. You don't even have your powers. Your daddy took them away from you."

Loki stood with ease and the ropes that once bound him fell to the ground. Barton took a step back in shock. "You're surprised?" Loki taunted. "I've had those knots untied for hours. And you, over there staring at me, you didn't even see me do it. No, I haven't got my magic, and maybe that's why you fools saw fit to bind me with fisherman's rope while you babysat me in this tiny room. You are going to be in so much trouble when they come back."

"Why do you say that? Without your magic, you're no match for me, regardless of what Thor thinks."

Loki smirked. "When I said my magic still remains in you, that was not some metaphor meant to burn you. I mean that literally, and it's so close that I can taste it." In one swift movement, he reached forward and squeezed Barton's neck. He pulled out what little magic was left and threw his foe to the ground before teleporting as far away as the small amount would allow him. He stumbled forward when he landed, very weak, and bent his chest over a nearby counter. This movement knocked a bowl onto the floor and shattered it. He heard movement in the next room and grabbed up the longest, sharpest piece. He crept into the room and saw a girl on her knees with her back to him, head tilted slightly as she'd undoubtedly heard the noise. With light, swift steps he knelt behind her and positioned the jagged edge to her soft neck. "Do not move," he instructed, "not an inch."

A/N:

Trying out this idea that's been floating around in my head for a while now. Criticism and reviews are obviously more than appreciated-let me know if you'd like to read more :)