A/N: This chapter disregards several key events from TDW, having been written before the film was released.


Loki's POV

The slew of "no's" that came from her were feeble, and Loki knew she was lying. Nearly. Without waiting for her to finish her sentence, he took her in his arms and carried her back into the room, careful not to bump her head on the door frame or hit her feet on the headboard as he lay her back down.

"You have your responsibilities. I have mine. The circles under your eyes do little to ease what discomfort I have, Jane. Rest."

Of course, he knew she'd eventually do something to escape him, and he'd have to chase her again. It was a never ending game of theirs: the astrophysicist trying to outwit a god. Then again, she'd slapped him during their first meeting, so outwitting him proved to be an easier task. Not everyone could have done what she did and not lose a hand, and yet he did…nothing. Even Thor had asked him why he hadn't punished Jane – not that the thunderer had wanted him to at the time – but Loki had refused to answer.

Honestly, he couldn't explain it either.

He set himself on the foot of the bed, crossing his arms and shaking a lock of his scraggly hair away from his face. He stayed there, like one of the All-Father's ravens, determined not to pry his eyes away from her. It wasn't difficult to; he'd done nothing but watch over her since she'd arrived in Asgard, and such an act doubled when the battled commenced.

Being the fool he was, Thor had insisted that Jane be kept close to him – and Loki, indirectly – as they fought the Dark Elves. She then proved to be the perfect distraction for Malekith, something that had left the God of Mischief visibly shivering and loathing himself for even doing it. But it had proven to be effective, as this gave him the chance to face with the leader and, with the help of Thor, take him down.

With one threat taken care of, he knew it was only a matter of time before a new one arose. But for now, he just wanted to immerse himself in what peace he'd helped create, and perhaps even get to experience some sense of normalcy.

"And no, I am not moving from this spot until you sleep. If my brother hasn't informed you yet, I can be quite stubborn."


Jane's POV

The God of Mischief sat perched and unmoving on the foot of her bed, his eyes — a strange palette of glimmering emerald and scintillating jades — fixing themselves upon her, showing absolutely no signs of letting the astrophysicist slip out of his sight once more, as she had a couple of instances beforehand. Sooner or later, however, she knew that there was no way she'd be able to sleep without trying to 'escape' again for the umpteenth time. Only to be likewise 'captured', no less.

It had been quite a routine for them both nowadays, whenever Jane would be insisting on staying up all night to work on her so- called 'Foster Theory'. She'd end up retreating to her room, nevertheless — either being swept by the God of Mischief off of her feet (literally and figuratively, dare she say), or by voluntarily doing so, when Loki would purposefully shut down her computer system and hide most of her paperwork.

With a groan, the astrophysicist rolled over, burying her face on the feathered pillow that Loki considered was his, inhaling his exquisite scent greedily before glancing up to meet his rather steadfast gaze on her own. "How can I sleep when you're there?" Jane asked, patting on the empty space beside herself when she did. He tilted his head sideways as if to contemplate what she had just said, then finally gave in — crawling on top of the mattress to position himself beside the astrophysicist.

Immediately, his arms circled around her waist, ensnaring her in his firm hold — another tactic of his (which had proved to be fruitful twenty- four seven) to keep the astrophysicist from attempting to flee. "This is called 'cheating'!," Jane exclaimed with a light laugh, reaching over to gingerly brush her fingertips against the pale skin of his cheek. The God of Mischief's brows quirked upwards minutely, although he had not spoken a word at all.

"Oh. Come. On. I'm getting the silent treatment, aren't I?," the astrophysicist mumbled, rolling her eyes heavenwards while shuffling a tad bit closer to him. When he hadn't answered (nor shifted, even), she decided to take it out on her own — leaning towards him to press a chaste kiss on his mouth. At first, he had not budged, but then, she felt him smile against her lips, causing her to pull away with a chuckle. "Am I forgiven?"