Hello, everyone! So, this shall be the very first in my Scarred For Life collection, consisting of random spin-offs of my completed story, Twisted Minds Think Alike. It's probably best to read/have read TMTA before reading this, so I hope you've done that :P And assuming you have indeed read TMTA, please, please, pretty please don't take these too seriously… I know there are discrepancies between this story and the original story. That's why these are humor spin-offs… *sigh* Sorry. I just get paranoid about people getting too nitpicky with humor stories heh.
Alright, to business. This oneshot was originally written for a good friend of mine after we discussed it at length how funny it would be… but it was written before the actual TMTA ending was published. So…
This story is taking place in a kind of alternate universe where everything is the same except… after Loki leaves and returns to Asgard, Emmie is captured by SHIELD. This accounts for their both being captured and why Thor doesn't really know who Emmie is. Savvy? So… here we go.
Scarred For Life
It had been four days since the… "Incident," as SHIELD had nicknamed it. Tony Stark, of course, had nicknamed it "the third World War," but since he was the only one who used that particular nickname, everyone else just called it the "incident." The "incident," of course, was the little event that took place in Manhattan, where a certain extraterrestrial tried to use an army of other extraterrestrials to take over the world. Said extraterrestrial army had been defeated, and said extraterrestrial leader had been taken down and transported back to Asgard. And his accomplice had been recaptured, and was supposedly going to start up rehabilitation again.
And so Loki Laufeyson found himself sitting in his cell in the Asgardian prison, arms crossed over his chest, rather… pouty.
And so Emmie Hill sat in a cell identical to the one Loki had been kept in just days ago, on the Helicarrier, with her arms crossed over her chest, rather… pouty.
00000
Loki looked up as he saw a guard striding down the hall towards his cell. He assumed the guard would simply walk by, as they usually did… but this guard did not. He stopped directly in front of his cell, staring intently at the prisoner within. Loki shifted uncomfortably.
"What do you want?" he asked finally, a sharpness in his voice.
The guard cleared his throat. "The king has ordered that corporal punishments shall begin today."
Loki grimaced and rolled his eyes, looking up at the ceiling. "Fine… what will it be, force feed me poison and make me suffer just long enough that I think I will die, and then force feed me the antidote?"
The guard shook his head. "Though I think I'll pass that idea on to the king…"
Loki scowled.
"But we'll simply be having an old-fashioned whipping today," the guard continued.
Loki gulped. It wasn't that he was afraid of the pain… he could withstand the pain of the whips. It was the idea that in order to have this punishment done, they would relieve him of his tunic… which meant his torso would be bare… which meant that his left shoulder would be visible…
He had been very careful to always make sure his shoulder was covered. He preferred to not have anyone see the little scar that was there.
Emmie, Mastermind Murderess was carved into his skin. And no one but he and "Emmie, Mastermind Murderess" knew about it. It was humiliating enough to live with just his own knowing about it. Did he really have to have other people knowing about it, too?
He sighed as the guard entered the cell and approached him with the chains and gag and handcuffs he was to be escorted in. He supposed it could be worse… after all, it was only going to be a few guards who would know about his scar. And maybe they wouldn't even notice it. But it wasn't like…
As it turned out, Odin, Thor, and Frigga were all going to be watching the corporal punishment. Blast it.
00000
Emmie sat on the small bench within her glass cell, glaring at nothing. She was so short, her feet dangled slightly off the floor; only her toes touched the metal surface, but she didn't kick her legs like a little kid. She looked up as she saw someone coming down the hall towards her cell.
"Emmie," Natasha Romanoff said shortly as she stopped a few feet from the glass of her cell.
"There's not many people who can sneak up on me," Emmie smirked, impersonating a British accent.
The agent rolled her eyes. "Yeah, great, so you've seen the footage. I understand. Anything else you'd like to add."
"After. After whatever tortures Fury can concoct, you'd appear as a friend… as a balm. And I would cooperate," Emmie continued, pretending that Romanoff had asked if she had known she would come.
"I'm less than amused, Emmie."
"And in case you're wondering, I'd say I expanded Agent Barton's mind." Emmie dropped the British accent, but continued nonetheless. "Is this love, Agent Romanoff?"
"Emmie, unless you'd like another tranquilizer, I'd suggest you stop," the redhead cut in sharply, and Emmie fell silent, glaring at the woman blankly.
"Whatever. What do you want, if it's not to bargain for one man's life while your world hangs in the balance…?" Emmie asked flatly.
The woman pointedly rolled her eyes. "You're due for a shower and clothes change."
"Ah, yeah," Emmie pursed her lips. "Any idea when I'm actually gonna get to go back to my rehabilitation room back at headquarters?" Emmie asked derisively.
"When the Director wants you to," Romanoff answered, sounding bored. "Now come on. I've got the handcuffs, a gun, a taser, and a tranquilizer, so don't try anything."
"What if I don't wanna?" Emmie asked, crinkling her nose.
"Then you get carried to the shower and forcibly washed and dressed."
Emmie sighed. "Yeah, yeah…" she hopped down from her perch on the bench and strode over to the glass door.
"You've got a tank top and jeans to change into once you're done showering," Romanoff added offhandedly as the handcuffs were slipped securely onto the girl's wrists.
Emmie's eyes flashed. "Did you say a tank top?"
Romanoff began leading her to the bathroom she was to shower and change in. "That's what I said. Why, do you have a thing about showing skin? Agent Hill said they were your favorite thing to wear… or, they used to be… and that maybe it would help."
"Well, that's stupid. Can't I wear a t-shirt?" Emmie asked worriedly.
"No."
Emmie gulped. It wasn't that she had a thing about showing skin… it was that she had a thing about showing her left shoulder, specifically… and the scar that was quite clear on the skin there.
Loki, god of mischief and lies was carved into her left shoulder, and if she was being forced into wearing a tank top, then it would be easy to see. And she didn't want anyone but herself and Loki to know about her scar.
00000
Loki swallowed as he was escorted into a small room with stone walls and floor, and the only furniture was a long bench on one side, and a tall post in the middle of the room.
The post, he knew, was where he was to be chained as the whips sliced the skin of his back until Odin got bored of watching. The bench was where Odin was to sit as he watched, evidently, because there was Odin, sitting and watching as his fallen son was led into the room. On one side of the king was Thor, and on the other side was a tight-lipped Frigga.
Loki's throat tightened at the sight of all three of them sitting there. He had not at all expected them to be sitting here, watching as he was whipped into shape. Loki mentally slapped his own forehead at the stupid pun…
"Is watching prisoners get punished a regular family outing now?" he sneered as soon as the gag was removed from his mouth by his guard.
Thor frowned, Frigga looked down in despair, and Odin merely glared at Loki coldly. Based on the reactions, Loki would guess that Odin had forced his wife and son into coming and watching for some reason.
"Remove his shirt and chain him to the post," Odin said bluntly, not bothering to reply to Loki's bitter remark.
Loki swallowed as he felt the cuffs unclasp and slip off. A guard grabbed his hands to keep them secure as another started to work on removing his tunic.
"Er… Allfather?" Loki asked nervously. "Would it not be prudent to leave my shirt on, so as to ruin not only my body, but also my clothes…? To perhaps be even more humiliating, to be forced to wear clothes torn by my discipline?"
The members of the royal family all gave him queer looks, as if wondering if he had perhaps gone madder than usual.
Loki tried to force a weak smile. "…Just an idea…"
The three looked at each other in confusion, caught off guard by Loki's evident eagerness to go through with this punishment.
"Take off his tunic," Odin ordered again.
Loki groaned quietly as his shirt was slipped off of his body by the guards, leaving his entire torso exposed. He stumbled forward as the guards shoved him up against the whipping post and then re-cuffed his hands so he was practically hugging the wooden pole.
The dark prince heard footsteps approaching him from the left, and he turned his head to see Odin, a burning glare fixed on him. Loki resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Here it was… Odin was going to make some little pre-made speech to him about something or other that sounded regal and kingly.
"Loki, do you feel the gravity of your actions on Midgard?" Odin asked rhetorically, letting his eyes wander over Loki's face.
Loki held in a sigh. Yes, he had been right… a pre-made speech of honor and valor and you-should-be-ashamed-and-guilty-beyond-belief-but-I-don't-care-how-bad-you-feel-because-I'll-punish-you-anyway-to-make-sure-you-pay…. There was probably another word for that… but Loki was too busy pretending to remotely care what Odin had to say to ponder what it was.
"You know, deep inside, that this is for your own good. You know, deep inside, that you are in the wrong, Loki. But I cannot be sure. So I shall imprint upon you the gravity of your actions, by inflicting the pain you have caused—what's that on your shoulder…?" Odin suddenly broke off and frowned curiously.
Loki shifted, sidestepping slightly. The only place to go was around the pole, since he was bound to it. But still, he could try to distract the Allfather. "Er… nothing. Tell me more about how I need to learn my lesson…?"
Odin roughly grabbed Loki's shoulder and dragged him closer again. "…A scar…"
Frigga and Thor were now looking curiously up from their bench, where they had been sitting miserably.
"Loki has many scars, Father," Thor said slowly. "We fought in many battles in past years…"
Odin was shaking his head. "This is no battle wound, Thor…" he squinted at the scar and then abruptly let go of Loki's shoulder, frowning in even deeper confusion.
Loki cleared his throat pointedly. "Weren't we going to whip me into oblivion or something…?" he asked faintly. But he knew it was too late.
Thor and Frigga were now standing and crossing to the whipping post as well, bemused.
"Here…" Odin was now pointing out the white lines on his left shoulder.
Loki rolled his shoulders uncomfortably as he could sense all three of them leaning in close to look at his shoulder.
"It spells out… Emmie, Mastermind Murderess," Thor proclaimed.
"Congratulations, Thor, you can read," Loki rolled his eyes. "Now please just have me executed already, Odin."
"Silence," Odin dismissed distractedly, still leaning close to his back.
"It would appear that someone carved their name into Loki's shoulder," Thor announced.
"Brilliant observation, Thor. Now please just kill me," Loki pleaded.
"When did you get this scar, Loki?" Frigga asked mildly, ignoring his pleas.
"Shortly after I lost my integrity, and shortly before losing my dignity," Loki said a little too loudly. "Thank you ever so much for that, by the way, because I'm fairly sure every scrap of my dignity has just gone out the window!"
00000
Emmie was given hardly any privacy as she showered, as always. Romanoff kept a close eye on her over the chest-high wall that separated the shower stall from the rest of the bathroom. Every couple seconds, the agent would say, "Hands. Let's see them," and Emmie would be forced to hold up her hands to demonstrate that she hadn't magically produced a gun in the fifteen seconds since Romanoff had last asked.
"Hands. Let's see—"
"See?!" Emmie snarled exasperatedly, holding up her soapy hands. "See?! No freaking daggers, no freaking needles, no freaking grenades! Are you satisfied, woman?!"
Romanoff looked unaffected. "Finished showering yet?"
"It would go a hell of a lot faster if you would just let me wash myself rather than interrupting me every fifteen seconds," Emmie grumbled, washing the soap out of her hair and then shutting off the water.
"Hands."
Emmie held them up, rolling her eyes.
A towel was handed to her, and she dried herself and stepped out.
"Clothes, perhaps, Agent?" she asked drily.
The woman opened up a cabinet and pulled out a short stack of clothes. "Put them on," she demanded, holding them out to Emmie.
Emmie rolled her eyes. "Put them on? No way, I had no idea that's what you did with clothes. I thought you were supposed to swing them around your head or something."
"Shut it, smart mouth," Romanoff warned.
Emmie huffed and unfolded the clothes. She grimaced at the tank top. Not only was it a tank top, but it was a spaghetti strap tank top. Of course. Just make her life as difficult as possible. But maybe nobody would notice. After all, she spent all day in a cell. All she had to do was make sure she never had her back to anyone, and she should be perfectly fine.
She slipped the clothes on and proceeded to glare mutinously at her guard.
"Turn around so I can put the handcuffs on again," she ordered.
Emmie swallowed and slowly turned, obediently holding her hands behind her back in the hopes that it would be over soon. She felt the agent's hands on hers, and she tensed. She tilted her head back slightly, hoping her hair would cover the scar. She felt the handcuffs closing around her wrists, and heard their metallic click. She sighed slightly in relief when the agent moved to her side, grabbed ahold of her elbow, and began leading her out of the bathroom. Thank god.
Until a voice greeted them as they stepped out of the bathroom.
"The Director wants to see Harley Quinn," Tony Stark said grandly, making both women jump as he appeared suddenly as the door was opened.
"Jesus, Stark, don't do that," Romanoff sighed. "Fury wants to see her?"
"And do you have to call me Harley Quinn?" Emmie asked pointedly, deciding she didn't want to keep quiet during this conversation.
"Get used to it, kid," Stark smirked slightly. "I mean, you were kind of found in Stark Tower when you were supposed to be locked up in the Helicarrier, and Agent Hill said you left with Loki… so you're his accomplice. Therefore, any young spunky female helping a male psycho villain carry out his plans is Harley Quinn. And since you're the only one I know that fits that description, that gives me all the more reason to nickname you that." He glanced back to the Black Widow. "Fury's in the control room."
"Let's go," Romanoff muttered, tugging Emmie's arm and leading her off.
Stark followed behind the two women, and Emmie rolled her shoulders nervously. She had expected to be taken back to her cell now… now what was she going to do? Now there was a very real chance that someone would notice—
"There's something on your shoulder," Stark suddenly commented.
Both Emmie and Natasha turned. The redhead looked inquiring, but Emmie looked nervous and regretful.
"Hang on, let me take a look. 'Tasha, she's got something…" Stark drew closer, and Romanoff paused to look as well.
"It's nothing. Just take me to the director already," Emmie muttered, trying to shuffle away from their prying gazes.
"Hold still," Romanoff muttered distractedly, seizing her arm to hold her in place.
Emmie could feel her breath quicken as she felt them both lean close to peer at the scar. Someone brushed her damp hair off her shoulder, and the scar was plainly visible to the both of them.
"…We're taking her to the Director," Natasha said shortly.
"What the hell-?"
"Now!" Romanoff interrupted Tony's bewildered exclamation.
Emmie groaned quietly as she was hustled down the hall towards the control room.
"Director!" Agent Romanoff called as she burst into the room, dragging the teenager with her, Tony trailing behind as well.
Maria Hill looked up from a holographic screen. Her brow furrowed when she saw Emmie being dragged around by the Black Widow. "The Director is in the conference room over there," she nodded off to a door on one wall. "He wanted to ask Emmie about—"
"Doesn't matter," Natasha said briskly. "Hill, you come, too."
Emmie moaned as she was manhandled over to the door to the conference room. Now her mother was trailing behind her with Mr. Stark. As if there weren't enough people who knew about this as it was.
The door to the conference room was flung open, and Emmie bowed her head in disappointment.
Fury stood at the head of the room in front of a large screen, and there was a table filled with Bruce Banner, Clint Barton, and Captain America.
"Oh, good. Emmie, I—" Fury started to say, but was cut off.
"Emmie's got Loki's name carved into her shoulder," Stark said loudly, in a shrill voice that reminded everyone of a small child tattling on their sibling.
Silence.
"What?!" Maria asked, her voice even shriller than Tony's.
Suddenly everyone was crowded around Emmie, trying to see her shoulderblade.
"Hey!" she protested, trying to sidestep and get away from them, but she couldn't defend herself well with both her hands in handcuffs behind her back.
"Wait, let me see!" Fury was demanding, shoving through the crowd of agents and scientists.
Emmie felt a hand grab her arm and spin her so she couldn't see the faces of the people gawking at her scar.
"Loki, god of mischief and lies," Clint read. "Clear as day."
"Oh, my freaking god," Tony said. "So it wasn't just a joking-around thing when she said something about getting a big sloppy kiss from Loki."
"What about a kiss from Loki?!" Maria's voice cut through the chatter.
"When I was under Loki's mind control, I encountered Emmie in the halls looking for Loki's scepter," Clint explained, almost sounding excited about being able to gossip about it. "And when she asked if I was going to the detention level, I said yes, and she said to tell Loki she didn't expect a big sloppy kiss when she saw him in a few minutes."
"He told me and Romanoff and Stark about it just before we left for New York," Rogers added.
"Emmie, when and how did this happen?!" Hill demanded.
"It looks like it was carved with a knife or something," Banner observed. "Did Loki take a knife to your shoulder, Emmie?"
"Yeah; I'll show you exactly how it happened," Emmie snapped. "Just give me a dagger and I'll give you all a demonstration!"
00000
Back on Asgard, the royal family was still wondering about the mysterious scar on Loki's shoulder.
"Brother? Who is this Emmie that your shoulder bears the mark of? And if she is indeed a mastermind and a murderess, why in Helheim would you allow her to carve words into your flesh?" Thor asked, sounding utterly perplexed.
"And if indeed it was carved into your flesh," Frigga added mildly. "I sincerely hope that the dagger was sterilized. Was it, Loki?"
All three men turned to stare at her. Thor merely blinked, further confused. Loki raised an eyebrow in question, though he was blushing horribly by this point at everyone's questions. And Odin… his face was a mottled, patchy red interspersed with pale spots. He was somewhere between horrified and furious.
"Frigga, that's your biggest concern?!" he demanded, pointing at Loki's shoulder. "Loki has been consorting with someone, obviously, and they are probably his accomplice! Evidently they are just as evil in nature as he is, and found it fitting to carve her name into our son's—I mean, Loki's shoulder!"
Everyone gave the king a queer look at his slip-up. Frigga smiled slightly.
"As I was saying," Odin spluttered. "Your biggest concern is if the dagger used to do this deed was sterilized?"
"Well…" Frigga said slowly. "We wouldn't want Loki getting an infection, would we?"
Loki banged his forehead against the wooden post he was chained to.
"I think we should find out who this Emmie is!" Thor announced. "And we shall ask her why she insisted on carving her name into Loki's flesh! What a sick, terrible ritual… who would do such a thing as to carve her name into my brother's shoulder? She must be punished!"
"If it makes you feel any better, Thor, I carved my own name into her shoulder, too," Loki said wryly, slightly amused by Thor's abhorrence. Then he grimaced at their reactions.
"Loki!" they all said in unison. "You carved your name into a lady's shoulder?!"
"She did the same to me!" Loki protested.
"That is no excuse!" Odin exploded. "I did not raise my son to—"
He paused as the other three looked at him, raising their eyebrows.
"I did not raise you to carve your name into ladies' shoulder with a dagger!" Odin rephrased self-consciously. "As the man in the relationship, you should know better!"
Loki flushed bright red at this declaration. "No! Father—"
He paused as Thor and Frigga raised their eyebrows until they almost disappeared into their hairlines.
Loki cleared his throat. "Allfather, Emmie and I are not in a relationship like that!"
Frigga looked skeptical. "Loki…" she patted his non-scarred shoulder. "It is acceptable for you to have feelings for a woman… it's a step up from a horse, anyway…"
"Mother!" Loki screeched in horror. "Er—I mean—Frigga! Please don't bring that up!"
"All I am saying is that it is perfectly alright for you to be in a relationship with a young lady," Frigga said coaxingly while Loki squirmed with discomfort. "Though I would expect that you use good judgment is all. I thought we agreed when you were younger that you were not allowed to get a tattoo until you were 3000. Especially from a tattoo artist as questionable as a Murderess."
Loki let out a sound something like a moan and a yell, ending up sounding like a strangled growl of frustration.
Odin and Frigga then both looked to Thor.
"I certainly hope you and your lady of Midgard did not do something similar?" Frigga said chastisingly. "I believe such things are popular on Midgard; getting the name of your lover imprinted on your skin forever…"
Thor shook his head. "No, Mother. I was waiting until I was 3000. Like a good son." He glanced at Loki, who was banging his head on the wooden post again.
"Emmie… and… I… are… not… lovers!" he objected, hitting his forehead with a thunk on every word. "We're not like Thor and Jane!" he turned to glare at his adoptive brother, revealing that his forehead was quite red—even redder than his still-blushing complexion on his cheeks.
Thor held back a snicker. "I'll say you're not like Jane and I… we have not taken daggers to each other's shoulders."
Loki huffed in irritation.
"We still have not answered the question of who this Emmie is!" Odin cut in, pointing a finger in the air.
"Well, he must have gotten it on Midgard," Frigga reasoned, nodding towards Loki's scar.
"I shall now take him to Midgard!" Thor announced. "I shall ask SHIELD who this Emmie is; and perhaps they shall know!"
Suddenly Loki found that his handcuffs were being undone for a split second, and then redone. He was no longer attached to the whipping post, and was being tugged by Thor.
"Tell Heimdall to transport you directly to your Midgardian friends!" Odin called after the retreating men, and Frigga waved after them.
Loki was stunned at the speed with which the events had just occurred. He was going back to Midgard? To ask SHIELD about Emmie?
…and he couldn't even have his tunic back on before they left…?
"Thor…" Loki said slowly.
"Yes, Loki?"
"…I'm still shirtless."
"Ah. Yes. That's unfortunate for you, isn't it?"
Loki groaned. Yes, because this wasn't humiliating enough. Now he was going to show back up on Midgard, handcuffed and shirtless, and with his scar proclaiming Emmie's name on his shoulder clearly visible to anyone who looked.
00000
"Emmie, is this what was happening during the time that Loki was in your room?!" Hill was demanding. "Is that when this happened?"
Emmie rolled her eyes. "When else would it have happened, Agent Hill?" she drawled.
"Well, it could have happened when you two were up in the penthouse of the Tower," Stark said fairly, snickering a little.
"How on earth could you let that man carve his name into your back Emmie what the hell were you thinking what was running through your mind what is wrong with you how could you?!" Hill exclaimed in one big rush, leaving everyone else wondering how she had had the breath to say all of that.
"Um… one question at a time?" Emmie asked sheepishly.
"I don't care what you were thinking," Tony said with relish. "What I want to know is what you two were doing…"
Steve let out a sound that sounded something like a disgusted shudder. "Oh, I think I'm going to be sick… Loki and Emmie…? They were…?"
Hill whimpered. "Emmie, what were you thinking? You know Loki is the last person you should—" she couldn't even finish her sentence.
Emmie blinked. "Hang on just a freaking minute… what exactly do you think me and Loki were doing…?"
"Well, Emmie," Tony Stark sounded like he was smirking. "The scar is on your shoulder."
"Genius, Holmes," Emmie rolled her eyes.
"…And you were wearing a t-shirt the day you got this," Stark continued.
"And?"
"And that means, in order for Loki to have carved his name into your shoulder…"
Emmie gulped as she understood what he was getting at.
"You would have had to have taken off your shirt," Fury was the one who finished the sentence.
Emmie groaned, and she could have sworn she heard Steve Rogers gag slightly.
"Emmie and Loki… Oh, my God… oh, that's so disturbing… oh, the idea is scarring me for life…"
"You think you're scarred for life?" Emmie challenged. "Captain, I have Loki's name carved into my shoulder. How scarred for life do you think I feel?"
"Emmie!" Hill shouted.
"Hmm… Emmie and Loki," Tony was saying thoughtfully. "Emmie and Loki… what the hell kind of relationship was that?"
Emmie just grumbled something under her breath about "borderline abusive" and "mentally, emotionally, and physically scarring" and "son of a freaking—"
Ending with a rather long string of colorful curses that made Hill make an offended exclamation while Fury, Barton, Stark, and Romanoff let out impressed low whistles.
"Sounds legit," Stark muttered. "Now that's love…"
"Was not!" Emmie protested shrilly.
"…And denial seals the deal," Romanoff said triumphantly. "So… well, we knew they had something going on… but who would have thought—"
"It's not what you sick people were thinking!" Emmie shouted.
"You think we're sick…?" Steve asked shakily, obviously still disturbed.
"Emmie and Loki…" Tony repeated once again. "God, what a creepy freaking thought… yet also kind of addicting of an idea… I think I ship it, you guys." He nodded firmly. "Yup. I ship it. All they need is some love from each other…"
"Stark! Shut your damned mouth!" Hill demanded.
There was a sudden knock on the door of the conference room, and everyone fell silent and turned.
"Everybody be cool," Tony said, putting on a pokerface and leaning casually against the table, also propping an elbow on Emmie's head. She looked up and glared at him.
"Do you have a death wish, Mr. Stark?" she asked coldly.
"No, but you're so short, your head is convenient height for an armrest." Stark then rested his head on his fist, effectively turning Emmie's head into an armrest. Until she shifted slightly, sending Stark into a stumble as he lost his balance.
"So much for being cool," Clint muttered as he threw a furtive glance around the crowd and then went to open the door. "Everybody shut up and don't mention the…" he raised his eyebrows meaningfully at Emmie. Then he turned the knob and yanked the door open.
"Er… Director Fury," a young male agent said sheepishly, looking around at the gathered Avengers. "…Thor has just arrived… and he's brought Loki… Thor's demanding to see you… Loki's demanding someone just kill him now… did you want to see them, or…?"
"Send them in!" everyone said in unison, except for Emmie, who cringed very noticeably.
"No… don't bring Loki in…" Emmie moaned.
"Ah, yeah, the breakup wasn't all that great, was it?" Stark raised an eyebrow suggestively. "Well, you know… separation after attempted world domination together…"
"Shut up," Hill snapped.
"Yes, send them in," Fury said loudly. As the agent nodded and walked away, the director glared around at all of them. "And you guys… calm yourselves down."
Tony grinned sheepishly while Steve shuddered again, and everyone else just smiled wryly.
"Director Fury!" Thor's thunderous voice boomed out as he suddenly appeared in the doorway of the conference room. "I hope all is well, and I have a query for you!" He entered the room, and Loki followed. The god of mischief was being dragged along by the chain connecting the bracers around his wrists. And… he was… shirtless.
Everyone stared openly, and Emmie just bowed her head and sidled so that she was partially hidden behind Bruce Banner to avoid making eye contact with Loki.
"Um… are they making a sequel to Magic Mike I don't know about?" Tony asked, looking Loki up and down. "I mean, shirtless guy wearing handcuffs…?"
Loki turned an even brighter red. Rather impressive, actually, because his complexion rivalled Natasha Romanoff's hair.
"Ah…" Thor glanced awkwardly at his younger brother. "No… I do not understand this 'Magic Mike' business, but the reason my brother is shirtless is because…" He paused, looking perplexed. "Perhaps it is easier to show rather than tell." Without warning, he spun the dark-haired man around and pointed at his shoulder. "Look here."
Everyone gasped and rushed forward.
"Holy freaking crap!" Stark squealed, sounding like an excited young girl. "It says Emmie, Mastermind Murderess!" He did a very strange little excited bounce. "Emmie, come look at this!"
Loki suddenly whirled around. "What?"
His eyes then locked on Emmie, who was standing awkwardly off behind everyone else. They stared at each other silently for a long moment, struck by the awkwardness of the situation.
Then the silence was broken by (who else?) Tony. "…This is the part where you two, like, I don't know, rush towards each other and are ecstatic to be reunited. Go on." He made a shooing motion at Loki, gesturing towards Emmie.
The Mastermind Murderess and God of Mischief both turned death glares on the billionaire wordlessly… but words were not necessary. Their faces very clearly said 'burn in hell for all of eternity.' If looks could kill… their looks would actually not have killed. Their looks would have brought him to the brink of death and then merely left him there to suffer. That was the depth of the malevolence in their gazes.
Even Tony could sense this, because rather than adding some other stupid comment, he merely raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, don't go running towards each other for a loving reunion… just explain… you know… the scars."
Emmie and Loki glanced back at each other.
Everyone waited expectantly for the couple to start making some kind of confession.
"…It was Loki's idea. Loki's fault. Blame Loki," Emmie said loftily. "He took advantage of my young, weak body, and he—"
"You little lying beast!" Loki cut in angrily. "It was all Maria's idea, and she insisted, and—"
"You bastard; I told you to never call me by my full name!" Emmie interrupted sharply. "And you carved my shoulder first, and—"
"And it was your idea, and so you can be blamed for this whole situation right now!" Loki yelled, gesturing vaguely around the room with his handcuffed hands.
Tony was now gaping between the two of them, mouth open and eyes shining. "Oh, my god… this is… incredible," he breathed in awe. "Like, watching Emmie and Loki… it's like… whoa. Terrifying… yet… exciting… Watching you guys argue is like watching a perfect train wreck… So beautiful yet horrifying… yet makes me want to shudder… Yeah; a train wreck. It's terrible, but I just can't look away…" he paused as the two turned their eyes on him again. "Hey, don't mind me… go back to fighting. It's entertaining."
"No, no, no," Agent Hill interrupted. "Explain this to me… Emmie, you said Loki forced all this onto you…."
"And she's a lying little demon," Loki proclaimed. "It was entirely her idea, and her fault."
"Wait, is Loki saying he isn't a lying little demon?" Steve asked in confusion. "Um… think he's gone off the deeper end…"
Loki frowned. "Laugh all you want, Captain, but believe me… that girl," he flicked his head towards Emmie. "Is just as bad as me, if not worse. She's devious, evil, twisted, corrupt, and if you think for a second that—"
"You stop right there, you!" Maria gasped, cutting him off. "How dare you talk about my daughter like that!"
Everyone raised their eyebrows.
"…What are you interrupting him for, Hill?" Fury muttered. "He was pretty spot-on with his description… I was looking forward to learning some more synonyms…"
Maria looked offended. "My daughter is not evil and bad and devious and corrupt! She is perfectly loving, sweet, and innocent."
Everyone couldn't help but clap a hand to their mouths and snicker at that particular declaration. The words "sweet, loving, and innocent" weren't exactly the words any of them would use to describe Emmie Hill.
"Agent Hill, do you have another daughter we don't know about?" Agent Barton asked mildly. "Because you just can't be describing Emmie…"
"Not one of those words even comes close to fitting Emmie," everyone else murmured in agreement.
Hill glared around at them. "None of you believe me…"
Loki just shook his head, rolling his shoulders uncomfortably. "I hate to be the one to tell you this, Agent, but Emmie is most certainly nowhere near innocent," he shuddered, recalling the multiple occasions where she had lashed out violently or sworn.
Of course, everyone else interpreted Loki's words rather differently.
Tony's mouth dropped open. "Loki… did you ruin Emmie's innocence?" he pretended to be shocked.
Maria Hill was giving the god of mischief a murderous look, her hands flexing menacingly, daring him to say another word.
"What…?" Loki only just now realized his mistake in such word choice. "Ah… blast…" he blushed at the implications of 'ruining Emmie's innocence.' "Hell, no, not like that, you buffoon!" he scowled at Tony.
Emmie simply raised an eyebrow at the god of mischief, and then at her ready-to-kill mother, mind concocting a way to make this escalate even further.
And then she threw herself on the ground at her mother's feet, faking wailing sobs. "I'm so sorry! I knew I shouldn't, but he was stronger than me, and I couldn't stop him, and he forced me to-!"
Loki gaped down at her and started shouting in his own defense. "She's lying! I never did anything like what she's insinuating; she's just trying to-!"
Emmie shouted and wailed louder so that everyone else wouldn't be able to hear Loki's words. "—poor young girl, didn't know any better-!"
Everyone else was merely looking confusedly between Loki and Emmie, no longer sure who they should be believing. A few of them glanced to Natasha, but she looked just as baffled as the rest of them.
"And Loki was merciless, forcing me to-!" Emmie continued wailing at the top of her lungs as Loki continued to deny her claims.
"You are a little beast, Emmie!" Loki hollered.
Emmie abruptly fell silent and sat up slightly, giving Loki a haughty glare. "I suppose that's supposed to insinuate that you're beauty? Because that certainly isn't the case."
Loki looked down his nose at the girl. "Suppose that's supposed to insinuate that we're in love? Because that certainly isn't the case."
There was silence for a moment as Loki and Emmie glared at each other, and everyone else just stared at each other, unsure of what they were even supposed to think anymore.
"You wish it were the case," Loki and Emmie sniffed at the same time.
And then Agent Hill launched herself at Loki and tackled him backwards, shouting something about "what have you done to my daughter you evil…" Something along those lines.
"Let me at 'im! Let me at 'im!" she screeched as Barton, Romanoff, and Steve hauled the angry mother away from Loki.
Emmie smirked slightly at the sight. "…And everyone worries about my violent outbursts…"
Note from LoquaciousQuibbler: Well, here we are… lol. Yes, this ended up being very crack fic-y, but I hope you're all okay with that. I am actually quite fond of this oneshot… I may be somewhat morbid heheh. But come on, did you guys find it as funny as I did? I mean, there were some good parts, right? :P I'll say it one more time… please don't take this whole story too seriously.
Again, this was originally written for a good friend of mine here on FF. Phantasmagorical Me helped me write a couple scenes for this oneshot, and we had a lot of fun imagining all the crazy reactions different people would have to everything. Good times, good times.
So… anyways… (sorry, I'm actually kinda tired as I write this :P) let me know what you think. I shall be taking requests for Emoki oneshots to add onto this story, if you'd like to make a suggestion. Leave me a review and your thoughts on all this madness, too, will you?
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