There was a next time, of course. Sif targeted one of Loki's work colleagues who was also going to attend the gala in Stuttgart, which was Loki's next scheduled public appearance. She claimed to be a journalist, eager to report on their exciting announcement, but she wasn't a big enough name to get into the event. Erik Selvig was properly sympathetic and asked her to be his plus-one, which she accepted eagerly.

Sif expected security to be tighter, which it was, requiring guests to pass through a metal detector. Sif handed her clutch to the guard to look at as she walked through the metal detector. As was usual, the guard looked very perfunctorily in her bag which contained lipstick, her phone, keys, a tampon, and a small wallet. It also contained a knife beneath the lining, but the case was hard-sided and once the guard saw the tampon, he didn't put his hand inside.

Mentally rolling her eyes, she gave him a smile of thanks for not being very thorough, and walked through, armed with a knife in her clutch and her poison ring. And the heels of her shoes, if she needed them.

This time, Loki didn't arrive at the front. Either he'd come early or he'd come up from the parking garage beneath, as he strode straight from the wings at his introduction. He had two bodyguards this time, and these two were not even pretending they weren't Jotunheim military commandos. There were police, some in "plain clothes" posted on high, and Sif relaxed to see all the security. No one else was going to try for him during the speech.

"Thank you, Doctor Schafer, and to all of you for your warm welcome. Certainly warmer than the arrow someone shot at me last time!" he said it with a grin, and many chuckled at the light-hearted reference. But then he grew more serious, "Some are threatened by my discovery. Entire nations that depend on the exploitation of resources are threatened by a source of energy that emits no pollutants, no harmful radiation, and seems very nearly limitless in potential. Some fear that, sensing their days are numbered. But to them, I say, embrace the future. Fossil fuels are the past - quite literally, they are the remnants of dinosaurs and forests of giant ferns millions of years ago. The tesseract is the future. What would this world be if energy was free to all? It is our path to a cleaner world and, I believe, a path to the other worlds and other stars."

The crowd applauded. Sif listened, and a frown gathered between her brows. Was this real? Did Arkady want him dead because he was politically threatening, or did Arkady want him dead because Arkady's money came from selling oil and coal to the rest of Europe and free energy would render the oil market obsolete?

"Everything all right?" Doctor Selvig asked her after the speech was over.

"Does this thing actually exist?" she asked. "Or is it a theory?"

Selvig nodded. "It exists. We built it in our lab in America. Well, he made the tesseract; I still have no idea where he got the idea but, like all great ideas, it was so incredibly obvious once I heard it." His lips twisted ruefully. "Probably the greatest discovery since the atomic age."

"Really? Wow, I had no idea," she said, and to her own surprise, she actually meant her amazement.

Selvig asked, "Would you like to meet him?"

She smiled at him. "Of course I would!"

"I'll introduce you at the reception." His smile widened teasing her, "Brilliant men who are also single and princes… I can see the appeal."

"I'm here with you. I like maturity with my brilliance." Her fingers trailed down Selvig's arm, suggesting things she had no intention of delivering.

He patted her hand, not really believing her, but as long as he introduced her to Loki, that was all she needed.

The reception in the next room was crowded, but Selvig took her through, confident in being a colleague of the guest of honor.

They were waylaid once, by an American cheerful voice, "Erik! You made it!"

Selvig turned and grinned, shaking hands. "Bruce. Sif, this is Doctor Bruce Banner. Expert in gamma radiation at Culver University. We've done a bit of consulting with him as part of the project."

Banner was just another scientist. Ruffled hair, ill-fitting suit, he was nothing she had to worry about. But the beautiful red head with him - Sif's eyes met hers and Sif felt a chill pass over her.

"Quite a triumph," Banner said, "congratulations on getting it to open. I never thought I'd live to see it. Oh, sorry, I'm being rude. Natalie, this is my friend, Doctor Erik Selvig. And this is Natalie Rushman, she works at Stark Industries and is a big fan of Prince Pain-in-the-Ass."

Natalie Rushman. No, Sif knew better; this woman was not Natalie Rushman, she was Natalia Romanova, the Black Widow. Sif had seen her photo before.

Natalie's eyes met Sif's, and though she smiled, her eyes stayed cold. She apparently recognized Sif as well. "Sif, before we meet the prince, perhaps you would be so kind as help me in the ladies' room? My zipper's gotten stuck and Bruce is too much a gentleman to fix it."

Not feeling a lot of choice in the pleasant request, Sif agreed with a false grin. "Of course, Natalie. I'd be happy to help."

Black Widow was here. Maybe she was here for someone else. Maybe she was here because she liked science or she was really Banner's date. Or she was spying for Stark Industries. Her reputation was an assassin, but she did other things.

Please be here for another reason

They didn't even reach the ladies room, before Natalie made a move that Sif didn't even see her start, and Sif was getting slammed into the wall, an arm across her throat.

"You took down Barton, but let me make this clear," the Black Widow said, "If you kill Laufeyson, you're dead. This is my contract."

"It's mine!" Sif insisted.

Natalie's expression was coldly pitying. "Not anymore. Go home, little girl. You're outclassed."

Abruptly she let go of Sif, seconds before someone walked into view at the end of the hall, and her perfect magenta lips parted for a wide friendly smile. "Thank you for your help," she said in a light voice and turned to head back toward the party.

Sif took a moment to follow, wishing she could take the knife from her clutch and throw it into Natalie's back. How dare she think she had some sort of priority? And calling her 'little girl' with such insulting scorn, as if Sif weren't both taller and older.

Loki was Sif's target. Her payday. Her reputation. Her retirement. Her way clear of this mess she'd made of her life. Her chance to start over. Black Widow didn't need another high profile success. This was Sif's, and she was not going to let some cold-blooded assassin steal her opportunity away.

Sif emerged from the corridor into the main hall of the reception, to catch sight of the red hair heading back to Banner. She would get her introduction, and who knew how she intended to do it. Surely not right here in the middle of the floor with all the security. Poison? Lure him somewhere alone with those pretty eyes? She was the spider hunting. How could Sif stop her?

Erik found her and brought her to him first, which was a great moment - if only Sif was in position to do anything about it. Up close, he was taller than she'd thought; even in her heels, he was still a bit taller. His eyes met hers, and he smiled; it was a bright, pleased expression, almost as if he recognized her, but that couldn't be as they had never met. But then his gaze flickered very obviously downward as if he couldn't help checking out the bodice of her gown. She wished he hadn't been so unsubtle - it meant he'd be ripe for Romanova to pluck if he was so easily distracted.

Erik made the introductions, and Loki held out his hand to take hers. Very aware of cold eyes on the back of her neck, warning her not to touch him, Sif smiled at her target as warmly as she could. "It's such an honor to meet you."

"Oh, no, the honor entirely mine," he replied and lifted her hand to his lips, brushing a kiss across the back.

She shivered, something fluttering in the pit of her stomach at the touch. Resolutely she ignored the reaction. Stupid European royalty of stupid principalities the size of Delaware who thought they were hot stuff. She gave a little laugh. "Wow, you're smooth. Your Highness."

"Loki," he corrected. He was still holding her hand. "This isn't a formal occasion in Jotunheim."

Damn, those pale eyes were striking, and they were going to laser right down to her soul. She'd thought he was just an idle dilletante, the public face of the real scientists like Selvig, but there was a incisive intelligence to his expression. She would have to be careful.

"Is it really going to work?" she asked, a bit abruptly, and took back her hand. "This tesseract idea?"

His gaze narrowed at her. "You're not a scientist?"

"No, not at all. Journalist. I have to say it sounds too good to be true. No offense."

"No, it's good to be skeptical," he said to her, to her surprise. "Smart. But it's not a scam. It's not a lie. It's going to work. A tesseract is a," he held up both hands to gesture. He had long graceful fingers. "-a bridge between us, here, in the real ordinary world, to a dimension of … pure energy. Open that bridge, direct the flow, and … it'll be like a kitchen tap."

"There are a few… kinks," Erik said drily, and Loki chuckled in wry agreement.

"Indeed. A few kinks. The energy right now overloads almost everything, and it's not stable, but it's so close."

"That sounds amazing," she said.

"Well, some people don't think so," he said. "But I'm determined to press on and finish. The future waits for no one, especially cowards who are so afraid of it that they send killers to stop it."

She flinched, for one wild second thinking: he knows.

But he wasn't even looking at her, just complaining to everyone within earshot. Possibly because he suspected there was an assassin in the crowd. But he wasn't looking at Sif. Nor was he looking at Romanova, so even if he suspected there would be an attempt here, he wasn't ready. He didn't know.

He muttered under his breath to Selvig, "Who invited Banner?"

Sif turned her head to see Banner - with Romanova - approaching. Sif had to do something. Black Widow would have Loki wrapped around her finger and eager to screw her against the wall in five minutes flat.

Sif had to do something. "Do you want to dance?" she asked abruptly.

Loki looked a bit taken back, blinking several times without saying a word. Had no woman ever asked Doctor Prince Whatever to dance before? He recovered his aplomb swiftly, and grinned at her. There was a glint in his eyes that she could only describe as wicked, he said, "I would be delighted."

He went straight to the musicians - to the consternation of his bodyguards - and spoke to them in German. The players exchanged looks and then agreed. They finished off what they were playing as Loki came back to her, a little bit smug. "I thought if you wished to dance, we should dance to something more fun."

He extended a hand, and she took it, wondering what the hell she was doing. But she wasn't going to back out now, and maybe as long as they were dancing in front of everyone, Romanova couldn't make a move.

Sif felt quite exposed as what felt like every single person turned to watch as he led her to the center of the floor, but of course, he was totally at his ease. Perk of royalty, she decided sourly. Damn him anyway for putting her off her game.

"So, what are we dancing to?" she asked as they stopped and turned to face each other.

"Strauss."

"A waltz?" she asked, a little squeak coming into her voice.

His smile widened. He was enjoying this a bit too much. "You know how to waltz, I hope?"

She lifted her chin. "Of course. Who doesn't?"

Funny, she'd never have thought her mother's desperation to make her daughter into a Southern Belle would have paid off like this, but it let her raise the correct hands to the correct position. His hand took hers, while his other rested on her back firmly tugging her closer. Her other hand rested lightly on the shoulder of his tuxedo jacket; the fabric felt so soft beneath her fingers.

The music started, and he waited a moment catching the tempo, and then his smile widened. "Ready? Shall we start with the basics?"

"I can do more," she promised.

His voice was warmly teasing, dropping to a soft register like a purr. "Of that I am certain."

They started with the box step, like the first day of dance class. "That's it? I'd have thought a prince could do better?" she asked archly. "Or do you want me to lead?"

Pale eyes met hers with a spark of challenge in them. "As milady wishes."

And they were off. She wished she had on a true ballgown, because it would be spectacular as they moved across the floor, his hand indicating the direction and they moved together. She had to concentrate, until he shook her other hand which was clutching his. "Relax," he coaxed and moved his head nearer. "You dance beautifully."

Her eyes met his, and she let herself flow with the dance. It became... perfect. They barely were touching, keeping a formal space between their bodies, but she felt his warmth all along her skin, and she didn't see or think of anything else.

For the first time she truly understood Cinderella at the ball, because in that moment when the dance ended, she would have agreed to marry him on the spot. Her breaths came quick, and her face was damp with sweat, and she couldn't stop smiling. Some of the watchers applauded, and she knew she was blushing but she couldn't look away.

He dropped his hand from her back, after a light stroke of his fingers on her hip, and then bowed over her hand. "Thank you, Sif. You are a fantastic partner."

"You, you, were, too," she said, all grace and manners deserting her, as he released her hand. His bodyguards returned to his side, one of them looking irritated that Loki had ditched them so profoundly and the other glaring at her as if it had been her fault.

"I apologize, but it appears I'm wanted elsewhere," he said to her and moved away, flanked by the guards. She couldn't understand the not-German the guard was speaking, but the tone was stiffly polite and quite angry, haranguing Loki, no doubt for risking himself on the dance floor for no reason.

Loki said something to quell the protest, and looked back over his shoulder at her, flashing a very unrepentant smile at her.

It wasn't until Sif saw Romanova standing with Banner by the bar, that Sif remembered she could have opened the ring and poisoned him during the dance. The thought had never crossed her mind while she had been dancing, though. And if she hadn't killed him, she wasn't going to let the Black Widow do it either.

Smiling to herself, Sif slipped into the back corridor that led to the kitchens, and the instant she was alone she slammed her elbow into the glass on the fire alarm and pulled it.

The shriek was overwhelming in the low hallway and she hurried back to the main gala, to see the guests being urged to evacuate by the police and others in attendance. Loki's bodyguards weren't waiting, suspicious of the fire alarm being a cover for something else, and they headed for the exit right away, flanking him.

On his way out, Loki's eyes met hers briefly, and he lifted a hand in farewell, before he was gone. Some distance behind him, she saw Romanova looking at him, too, but she slowly turned her head to stare straight at Sif. Sif just smiled back at her and sauntered back to Erik's side as they left the building to the sounds of distant sirens in the cold evening air.

Loki was nowhere to be seen, hopefully long gone from this milling crowd. Sif was still smiling.

Next time, Laufeyson. Next time, no dancing, no charm, no Disney prince crap. You're mine.


tbc...