The Calm Before the Storm (3/3)
Author: starhawk2005
Fandom: Marvel's Avengers
Date: November 2012
Pairing: Loki/ Jane
Rating: Adult (18+).
Summary: Loki wants to play a new 'game' with Jane. Cue the evil laughter.
Beta: *kneels before canyr12*
Disclaimer: I think Loki owns ME. It's definitely not the other way around.
Author's Note: As usual, everything in this series is based on the movie!verse.
Jane's lungs feel as if they are on fire, even as she pushes herself to keep running. She can't stop, no matter how badly her body is screaming at her that it can't maintain this pace.
Branches snag on her sleeves and pant-legs, trying to slow her down. It feels as if the very forest itself is against her, trying to stop her, to imprison her, hold her captive for him.
Jane risks a glance back over her shoulder, even though experience tells her she won't see him unless he wants her to. Sure enough, there's nothing but the trees, and above them, the dark sky with its unfamiliar star formations.
Of course, she stumbles over a root (predictable) and winds up falling to her knees with a jolt.
There's no sound but the uneven dry rasp of her breathing, and the wind whispering through the leaves of the trees. But Jane knows he's behind her, he's coming for her, and she knows she can't stop.
Confirming her fears, dark laughter curls through the rustle of leaves. It's close, and Jane thinks she sees the silhouette of curving horns moving slowly towards her through the trees. Oh yes, he's coming after her. He's probably even closer than she realizes, master of illusion that he is.
Jane clenches her fists and lurches back up onto her feet, running as fast as she can towards freedom.
She can't let him catch her.
Earlier that evening…
Jane idly flips through the classified ads one last time, making some notes on a pad as she shovels the last of her supper into her mouth.
Her mind wanders back to two mornings ago. She'd woken up, to her great surprise, still wrapped securely in Loki's arms. He'd already been awake and watching her with an expression she couldn't read. But then he'd kissed her and teleported her back to her trailer, alone, before she could even begin to think of what to say to him.
Still, at least he'd spent the night cuddling with her in bed. It was almost certainly a sign of progress, right?
And yet the events of that day, the fight she'd witnessed between him and Thor, keep replaying themselves in her head. The things Loki had said. The things she'd told Thor. They nag at her on an endless loop, as much as she tries to ignore them and focus on apartment-hunting.
She'd admitted to Thor that she doesn't really know Loki. 'Sharing' really isn't his thing. But how long can things between them last if he won't open up to her? And if (when?) she reaches her limit, will he really talk to her if she pushes him, or will he simply end things between them and walk away?
Not pleasant thoughts. Jane forces herself once more back to apartment-hunting. She's already visited seven potential places over the last two days, and after a great deal of consideration over the last few hours, she's pretty much settled on two. Briefly, she considers again asking Loki for his input, but he hadn't exactly been receptive to that idea.
She flips to a blank page in her notepad, now making a list of the pros and cons of each place. Apartment A: downtown (such as it is), so it's close to Isabella's and the grocery store. And she wouldn't be living within sight of the lab, which might give her some 'mental space'. But it would probably be a bit noisier, it would be a relatively long walk to get to work, and does she really want Loki to visit her in a place that's smack in the middle of the town he nearly destroyed? Assuming anyone will recognize him (if he even lets anyone see him), maybe it's still tempting fate.
Apartment B pretty much has all the opposite pros and cons, since it's right on the edge of town near the lab…but it also has smaller rooms in general, though it does have an extra room (which might make for a good 'office/computer room'), a better freezer-fridge combo, and a larger closet in the single bedroom. And cheaper rent. Jane puts down her pen and rubs her eyes, thinking that she should call both landlords and ask if she can visit the places once again tomorrow.
Out of the blue, it feels like something is brushing softly against her mind. That's the only way she can describe it. Jane, says a soft voice in her head, and then Loki is standing next to her chair.
No horns today – they and her ceiling would definitely agree to disagree – just his usual black and green armour.
"Loki! I wasn't sure when I would see you," Jane says happily, getting up from the table to hug him before her brain tries to stop her. But her delayed fear seems baseless; this time he doesn't stiffen up. In fact, he loops an arm almost casually around her, as if accepting her hug as his due. Definitely progress. "I didn't know how long it would take you to heal," she adds.
Loki makes a dismissive gesture with his free arm. "Do not trouble yourself. I am fine." Indeed, this close to him, Jane can see that there isn't even the tiniest sign of the bruises and cuts that had marred his face the other day, the result of his battle with Thor.
Letting go of her, he walks around Jane to peer curiously down at the newspaper and her notes. "What are you doing?" he asks. Jane blinks in mild surprise. Since when does Loki care what she does with herself when he's not around?
Another sign of progress?
"Well, like I said the other night, I've been looking for an apartment. I actually visited a bunch of places recently, and I think I've narrowed it down to two that I like. I'll probably go visit them again tomorrow, before I make a final decision. In fact, I was just about to call the landlords to arrange that."
"Hm," Loki says, flipping idly through her notepad.
"How about you? What have you been up to?" She asks hesitantly, after a long silence. Asking him such questions is new for her, too, but she's too curious to stop herself. She's a scientist, after all, and if the bounds of their relationship have shifted, she's too curious to see where the new limits are. Call it hypothesis testing.
He turns and grins down at her with a naughty glint in his eye, but before Jane's anxieties can flare up too much, he says: "I have been thinking. I want to play a new game with you, Jane Foster."
"Um, yes?" Jane shifts from foot to foot, full-on nervous after all. "I'm not sure I like the sound of that," she admits.
"You'll like this game. I shall see to it." He pauses, considering. "And I promise we won't be intruded on, either by persons real or illusory."
"I don't know, every time you say 'game', it scares me a little," Jane blurts out before she can think better of it. Maybe that's not the sort of thing she should be admitting to a God of Mischief-
But Loki nods, a serious expression on his face. "I know. And I wish to remedy that." He motions to her to resume her previous seat at the kitchen table, and then he moves to sit in the other kitchen chair.
"I wish to….engage in a little play-acting," he continues. "But first, I wish to discuss it with you, so that we do not have a repeat performance of the dream. Where I pushed you too far for your comfort."
He's negotiating with me, Jane realizes. How interesting. "Go on," she says as calmly as she can, somehow managing to hide the tremor in her voice.
"First, I shall take us somewhere new. It will be outdoors, and it will likely seem strange to you, but I swear by Yggdrasil that it will be totally private. I shall hide us both from any possible onlookers, though I highly doubt there will be any, as it is a remote place."
Sex outside? Well, there's a first time for everything, right? "Um, OK," Jane says. It's not something she's ever done before, but that's not a sufficient reason to say no.
But Loki isn't done. "Second, there is the small matter of your punishment, which you have cleverly avoided up until now." The evil glint returns to his eyes, and he smirks at the way Jane gulps and shifts anxiously in her chair. "However, I assure you that have no intention whatsoever of injuring you. I cannot promise that I will not hurt you to a small extent, since that is rather the point of the exercise, but I do promise that I would never harm you. Am I being clear?"
Jane nods slowly, though the idea of being spanked still both scares her and excites her, if she's being honest with herself. "Are you punishing me because I dominated you the other day?"
He chuckles and shakes his head, his smirk becoming a grin. "No. I thought that was…inspired. If you require a reason, then I say you are to be punished for coming back to the battle between myself and Thor, after I sent you away to safety."
Jane frowns angrily and crosses her arms, but Loki sighs and puts his hands up in a placating gesture. "Are you totally unfamiliar with how such games work? Even if you had obeyed my every command instantly and without question, I would come up with a reason – however petty – to 'discipline' you."
"You still haven't told me what your 'game' is," Jane points out.
Loki's smirk reappears. "I want to play a game of cruel, lustful master, and helpless yet defiant slave."
Jane's hands tighten around her elbows anxiously, though she can't deny to herself that it does sound rather….intriguing. "Didn't we kind of do that already, though?" At the very beginning, when you were stalking me, she thinks but doesn't say.
"I suppose," he sighs heavily again, and Jane could swear that she sees shame on his face for a split second. "But I highly doubt you found that time enjoyable."
Jane can't help smiling just a little. "No, not really."
He nods. "I intend to remedy that, as well." He leans forward in the chair, eyes intent on her face, then continues: "But before even that, there is another element I wish to explore with you as well. A game played not infrequently in Asgard, though as yet I have not had the opportunity to play in such a fashion before. It is a game where the man pursues – literally – his partner. I hope you did not get your fill of running the other day while my brother and I were battling."
Jane's mouth goes dry as the pieces fall into place. "You mean you're going to…hunt me down?"
He's doing his smirking thing again. "In a manner of speaking. And when I capture you, feel free to resist me. In fact, I would prefer that you resist me. I want you to try and stop me from taking you." He chuckles darkly, and Jane has to shift in her chair again.
It's definitely interesting. Jane knows that she's always wanted to be overpowered, to be taken. He kind of did that their first night together, but this is a step beyond even that. It's a potent fantasy he's spinning for her, and yet, she's never really wanted anything that, well, extreme to happen to her in anything other than her fantasies; she's never trusted anyone enough.
The real question is does she trust Loki that much?
Jane considers it for a long moment, aware of him watching her the whole time.
After a moment he adds, as if he is all too aware of her doubts: "Assuming you consent, of course. Perhaps it is too early in our 'arrangement', for me to ask such of you? If so, you have only to say."
That alone makes her feel better; the fact that she has an 'out' if she wants one. That he cares enough, it seems, to offer her one.
But the truth is, it intrigues her, excites her, and she does trust him, as insane as that sounds even to her sometimes. He's made some mistakes, pushed against some of her boundaries in ways that she wishes he hadn't, but she does think he never did any of that to hurt her. At least not once she consented to their 'arrangement'.
"No, it's not too early," she replies, getting up and coming around the table to take his hand. She smiles down at him, though she's sure he can tell how nervous and aroused his little scenario has made her. "Whenever you want to try that let me know."
He raises his eyebrow at her and makes a small sweeping gesture. "Why not now?"
Jane swallows hard around a sudden lump in her throat. "Um, now?" Somehow, she hadn't even considered that he meant right this second.
"Of course. I am not a patient man." he points out with a little sideways quirk of his lips. Then he stands and smirks again, towering over her. "However, perhaps you should arrange your domicile 'visits' first. I do not wish to disrupt your plans for tomorrow. Though you may wish to arrange for late meetings." He winks down at her.
Jane gulps again and takes his suggestion, trying to ignore how her hands and voice are shaking slightly as she makes her calls, planning to meet the landlady of Apartment A at 1:00pm tomorrow and the landlord of Apartment B at 3:00pm. It helps a little when he takes that burning gaze (and knowing smirk) off of her and looks out the trailer window instead.
Jane finally hangs up and takes a deep, slow breath, trying to calm herself. Here goes nothing. "OK, I'm as ready as I'll ever be."
She turns to Loki, to find him studying her critically. "What?" she asks.
"Are you fond of those garments?" he asks cryptically. Jane looks down at herself. Comfortable, worn jeans, a flannel shirt, and a white tee-shirt. "Um, yes, I suppose?"
"I am not sure your clothing will survive our 'game'." he says. "I suggest you do not wear anything that you are not prepared to sacrifice. You may change, I will wait." He crosses his arms, leering at her.
Jane tries not to think too hard about what he could mean. 'Sacrifice'? She just moves past him to her closet, pawing through it until she finds an old pair of sweatpants, and a flannel shirt that's seen better days. Although she winces a bit at what he will think, she next finds a bra whose elastic has seen better days – it might not even survive being worn – and a pair of panties with a small tear near the waistband, though the thought of wearing such battered clothing in front of her lover makes her wince a bit. But that's what he asked her to do, right?
Clothes collected, she pauses, not sure where to dress, and Loki's grin turns absolutely feral. "Please, never mind me." He says archly. Jane swallows hard and turns her back to him, changing clothes as quickly as she can. It's not that she's feeling immodest; he's seen her naked often enough, and he's going to be seeing her naked again all too soon. But the intensity of his gaze is making her very uncomfortable.
When she finishes and turns back to look at him, the wicked expression on his face doesn't really make her feel all that better. "Shall we?" he asks.
Jane nods, not trusting her voice not to squeak from nerves. He takes her hand, and without any warning her vision washes out into blinding white and green flashes of light.
There's a mild jolt as her feet hit uneven ground, and when Jane's eyes work properly again, she finds them in a forested area at night. Trees and dense foliage ring them in, and when she looks up through a break in the canopy of branches above, she doesn't recognize any of the constellations above her. And there's not one, but two moons.
"Is this some kind of dream?" she asks him, letting go of his hand a little reluctantly. It's unsettling somehow, though that's probably exactly what he wants.
"No, it is real," he answers, pacing a few steps away from her, turning his back on her.
"Are we in Asgard?" It seems the only logical explanation, but would Loki really risk coming here for real? Even if Thor had let him go free on Earth, it had sounded to Jane as if Odin might not have agreed to that.
But Loki doesn't answer her question. Instead, he turns and smiles at her in a way that she can only describe as predatory. His teeth somehow look very sharp in the dappled moonlight, and the almost fully-healed bite-mark on her neck gives a mild throb.
"Fragile little Jane Foster," he purrs mockingly, and the tone of his voice makes a slow shiver go down her spine. He takes a leisurely step towards her, the air around him shimmering, and before Jane's amazed eyes his helmet phases gradually into being. The horns appear inch by inch, and then his green cape and the golden plates of armour he was wearing the other day when he visited her in the lab.
He's apparently pulling out all the stops.
Jane clenches her fists and takes few quick steps back, trying to maintain the distance between them. Pretending to be intimidated is not all that difficult. "What do you want from me, Loki?" She hisses angrily. She's supposed to be a 'defiant slave', right?
He laughs wickedly, and while it reminds her all too clearly of how she first 'met' him, this time it actually sends a strange kind of thrill through her veins.
"I'm going to make a toy of you, little one. I so enjoy using mortals as playthings," he sneers, sliding closer to Jane as she continues to back up.
"Look at the big powerful god, threatening to rape a defenseless woman," Jane snarls at him. Another echo of earlier and rather less comfortable days (if the situation right this moment could be called comfortable), but Loki doesn't give the same reply as he did the first time she said something similar to him.
"Why not?" he laughs low and deep in his throat. "It's one of the many privileges of power." He slides ever closer. "You belong to me, you are my slave, and I will use you as my desires dictate."
His words seem to ignite something in her, a mix of anxiety and lust like nothing she's ever experienced before, and Jane continues to back up, playing the game, looking for a way to evade him. She glances over her shoulder and realizes that there seems to be an overgrown trail stretching away through the trees, right behind her.
"There's no escape," he growls, noticing her look. "Still, I do enjoy a good hunt. I am feeling slightly charitable this evening, so I shall make you a bargain, slave. In that direction-" he indicates the trail- "some distance from here, there is a mountain. Sheer cliffs rising up from the forest floor. If you get to the rock face before I catch you, I will set you free. But if I get to you first…" He trails off with another low, depraved laugh.
"How do I know you're telling the truth?" Jane challenges him.
More evil laughter, his eyes glittering in the dim light of the moons. "You do not, but I am afraid you only have two choices. Kneel now and beg me to use you gently – I may consider it, or I may not - or run and take your chances. I shall give you a two-minute head start."
When Jane hesitates for a long moment, his grin widens cruelly. "Your time has already begun, little girl. Five seconds already gone, by my count-"
Jane turns and runs, crashing through the branches, and his laughter rings coldly in her ears.
She scrambles, trying not to trip over roots and loose twigs, and it doesn't take long at all for her legs to ache, for her lungs to burn. Panting for breath, she remembers what happened during Loki and Thor's battle, and so she tries to slow down just enough to keep moving quickly, but without exhausting herself.
If she can get to the rock face, maybe he'll let her escape her 'punishment' at the very least. She rather doubts it, but either way, this is the game she agreed to.
After what seems like an eternity, she finally has to come to a stop in a clearing to catch her breath. Alien formations of stars arch above her, reminding her that Loki is master of this domain. And master over her, by extension.
It doesn't matter; she's still going to try to give him a run for his money, no pun intended.
Out of the blue there's a sudden familiar chuckle, seeming to come from right next to her ear, and Jane bolts forward, continuing along the overgrown path and again trying not to stumble over her own feet. She feels a hand grab at her shoulder but she manages to slip away, an angry snarl following after her, and her heart lurches. He certainly is a convincing actor.
Her heart is pounding so loud Jane thinks he could probably track her just by the noise of its beat alone. Sweat drips into her eyes, stinging and blurring, and branches slap against her, as if the forest itself is trying to entrap her, hold her hostage for her pursuer. Jane shoves through the branches, gritting her teeth and trying to keep from looking over her shoulder.
It's like having a ravenous monster on her trail. Well, he's definitely ravenous, Jane reflects, and I'm sure most people would agree with the monster part, unfortunately. Despite the craziness of this whole scenario though, she has to admit to herself that she feels more excited than afraid. Even if she knows that Loki is going to win this chase, whether she makes it to the rock face or not. The prey isn't going to escape so determined a predator.
Just as she thinks this, the trail opens up ahead of her, and she can see her destination. Putting on a last burst of speed – almost thwarted as she stumbles over a tree root yet again – she breaks from the tree-line and puts a hand on the rough wall of rock.
"Very good," Loki growls. Jane's head jerks up, and she sees that he's standing only a few paces away from her, leaning casually against the cliff-face. She's panting hard, her legs trembling and her heart racing in her chest, but he's calm and unruffled. He certainly hadn't run.
"You…fucking…cheater," she gasps, glaring at him and trying to slow her breathing.
If he grins any wider, his jaw is going to fall off. "God of Mischief and Lies, my pet. Cheating is a requirement, do you not agree?" Jane doesn't miss the slight emphasis he puts on the word 'pet'.
"Yeah, well, I still made it here, and you didn't catch me. So I'm leaving now, as we agreed."
He throws his head back and gives his most maniacal laugh yet, and Jane can't help shivering at the sound. He's definitely too good an actor.
"I am afraid that I lied, my slave. But in truth, you expected as much, did you not? Still, I thank you for the amusement, however brief." He sidles towards her, still grinning cruelly.
"You bastard!" she spits at him, pushing off the wall and clenching her fists tightly. He said he wants her to resist, but what exactly is she supposed to do?
"I will use you until you break," he rasps, shifting nearer. He stops just out of reach, though, stroking his chin and looking thoughtful.
"On the other hand, given how well you amused me, perhaps I should offer you a chance to change my mind." His voice hardens, roughens. "Kneel and beg for my clemency."
But Jane isn't going to fall for that a second time. "Go to Hell. You're just lying again."
"Well, so I am!" he says brightly. "Such a clever little mortal." He reaches out almost lazily towards her. Randomly, Jane thinks that his horns seem a lot less funny when he's grinning savagely at her like that, as if he plans to devour her.
Jane's still not sure exactly what to do. She knows all too well how strong and fast he is, and even if she tries to go on the offensive, punching him seems like a really bad idea – a good way to hurt her hand on his armour – and for what? He's going to win, they've already established that. There's only going to be one ending to this scene. The only question is how they get there.
So instead of trying to fight, she turns and tries to run away.
But before she can even get two steps away, it's as if a veil of darkness is dragged across her vision for a split second, and when it disappears, he's standing right in front of her. Operating on sheer instinct, Jane doesn't stop, just lowers her shoulder and barrels right into him, and she's not at all surprised when she hits nothing. One of his duplicates, she expected as much.
But she barely gets in another step before powerful hands grab her from behind, closing tightly around her upper arms like shackles, jerking her to a bone-jarring stop. "Very good, indeed," says a low husky voice right into her ear, and she can feel the cold metal of his helmet pressing against the side of her head. "I do believe there is a touch of the warrior in you, little mortal."
He drags her backwards, and Jane tries to twist free of his grip, but it does no good. She stamps down on his foot as hard as she can, but he only chuckles. Her next attempt is to try to fall to her knees and at least slow him down, but he picks her up effortlessly, one arm around her waist and the other pinning her arms against her sides, and pulls her back into the forest.
They're in a clearing – she doesn't know if it's the one she stopped in before, a new one, or maybe it's even one he just created, assuming this forest is all his construction – but either way, he suddenly releases her.
She knows the struggle will end the moment he decides it will, but until then, she's going to give it her all.
So instead of running again, this time she turns and advances on him, ignoring the expression of mocking delight on his face as she raises her pitifully tiny fists. She takes a clumsy swing at him, hitting nothing as he languidly dodges, staying just out of her reach. "Perhaps more than a touch of the warrior," he says with false admiration.
"Fuck you," she snarls, baring her teeth and punching at him again, though of course he slides just out of reach once more.
He makes a confused face at her, though his fierce amusement is very obvious just underneath. "Oh, but you will, my pet. Though perhaps more accurately, I am going to fuck you," he points out crudely, leering at her. "Hard and rough, until you are screaming my name." He steps towards her, baring his teeth in a shark-like grin.
Heat prickles below Jane's belly, but she plays the game, kicking at him as he gets too close, and still he grins as he grabs her elbow, unbalancing her and yanking her forward against him.
She tries to twist away, shoving her hip into his leather-clad belly as hard as she can, stamping again on his foot, but it has absolutely no effect. She winds up with her back pressed tight to his chest, his arms trapping hers against her own body, and no matter how she squirms, she can't get free. She struggles harder, using all her strength, but his arms are like stone bands, and she's pretty sure he's not using even half his strength. Maybe not even a quarter. In any other context, it might actually be kind of funny, just how outmatched she is.
His arms tighten a little further, squeezing her, and although he's not hurting her, for a moment it almost seems too real. She throws her head backwards on sheer instinct, finally eliciting a grunt from him as the top of her head connects with his chin, his teeth clacking loudly together.
Immediately she feels guilty, but he only snarls: "An excellent if fruitless attempt, little slave," and pushes her down into the cool tall grass.
She tries to crawl away but his hand closes on her ankle and yanks her towards him, and then he's on top of her, forcing her onto her back. The fierce, exhilarated grin never leaves his face as he grabs the collar of her sweat-top and pulls sharply, the fabric parting as easily as if he were simply opening double doors.
"Leave me alone!" Jane hollers, shoving at his chest with all her pitiful strength, but of course he doesn't move an inch, and he never stops grinning. Steel fingers grab her wrists and press them up over her head, his legs tangle around hers, and he's leaning down, his breath falling hotly on her face.
"Such spirit," he comments in that faux-admiring way. "Did I not once say I would enjoy breaking it? I think that time might be at hand." Jane yells at his words and he releases her hands, but it's only so he can tug hard on the ruins of her shirt, yanking it up and off her arms. He tosses it away like trash, then pins her wrists down again with one hand, eyeing her heaving chest.
Jane bites off a moan as his fingertips trace along one strap of her bra, slow and lazy. Like he has all the time in the world (and he does, doesn't he?). When he closes his hand around her still-clothed breast, pressing his fingers into lace and skin, Jane curses him, even though what she really wants him to do is to touch her.
Loki leans over her, horns looming over her face as his teeth drag none-too-gently down her throat, and Jane yelps as he tweaks her nipple hard through her bra.
He laughs huskily and shifts lower, and Jane tries to pull her wrists free but she can't do it, it's like trying to move a brick wall, and she can't even arch her back as he nips her sharply through the worn lace.
The torment pauses as his hand fumbles between her breasts, obviously searching for some kind of fastening, and Jane takes the opportunity to laugh at him for a change.
"The great and terrible God of Mischief, foiled by a simple bra? You're pathetic."
He snarls and gets right back in her face, his teeth sharp on the edge of her jaw though he doesn't bite hard. Then he laughs and Jane feels him reach down between their bodies. She's not sure what he's doing, and it's hard to suppress the thrill of fear when he retrieves what he's looking for and holds it up in front of her face.
One of his daggers.
"Not foiled at all, impudent slave. You won't be needing this anymore," he purrs, and Jane squeezes her eyes shut as he slides the thin blade between her breasts and under the strap, slicing it open with a sharp tug. Two more cuts dealt to the straps to each side of her collarbone, and he's pulling the bra free and tossing it away. He tosses the dagger after it, much to Jane's surprise.
His teeth worry at her bared nipples, first one and then the other, and Jane doesn't bother to swallow her groan this time. "In fact," he growls, you won't be needing any of your garments any longer." Ruthlessly he pulls her up onto her feet, then drags her by the wrists towards a tree stump in the middle of the clearing.
She can't hope to stop him or even to slow him down, but she still tries anyways, even though he brushes her efforts off easily. He even has no trouble controlling her with only one hand, as he uses the other to sweep his cape out of the way before he sits down on the stump, pulling her inexorably down and across his lap.
Jane can guess what's coming, and she squirms and tries to kick, useless as that is, shouting and cursing him. Another wickedly mocking chuckle, and he pulls her arms tightly behind her back. A hissing sound fills Jane's ears, and there's the familiar sensation of a thin snake winding itself firmly around her wrists over and over before it goes still and turns into rope, his arm holding her down like a leaden weight. She continues to struggle and curse, though.
"Silence!" he rasps after a moment, his hand covering her mouth. "You can't hope to stop me, little mortal. But that doesn't mean you can't annoy me into being even more unkind to you than I had already planned. Understand me?"
Jane draws in a shaky breath as best she can against his hot palm, and nods slowly. She bites her lip hard but has to fight to keep from squirming, as he pulls another dagger from somewhere and starts slicing the rest of her clothes to ribbons. The waistband of her sweatpants gives with barely any resistance, and her panties breathe their last with even less. Soon she's down to her shoes and socks, the leather underneath her smooth and cool against her bare belly and thighs. When a breeze flits through the clearing and brushes across her skin, she's painfully aware of just how wet she is, and how hard her nipples have become. He probably is, too.
"So very lovely," he comments, tossing the dagger away and snaking a hand into her hair, using a firm grip to hold her in place like a specimen pinned to a board. "I should keep you naked every moment of every day and night," he muses, "So you are always ready to submit to your god." Jane squeezes her eyes tightly shut again as his fingers feather along the curve of her trembling ass in the lightest of touches.
He keeps it up for awhile, teasing her with the lightest of touches, letting his hand trail along her quivering thighs. Several times he changes tactics, scratching her sensitive skin lightly with his blunt fingernails, and gooseflesh breaks out all over her body, before returning to the slow, delicious torture of his caresses.
He alters his grip on her hair at one point, forcing her head to turn to the side, towards him, and though he isn't hurting her – yet – she's all too aware that he can see her face now. There's nowhere she can hide from him, though considering what he's about to do to her, maybe that's a good thing. If he starts to hurt her, he'll see that and adjust.
Won't he?
She soon finds herself almost on the verge of relaxing, if only because being on edge for so long eventually would exhaust anyone, and that's when he chooses to strike the first time.
It wrenches a gasp from her throat and all her muscles clench in response, the jolt of contact fading quickly to a sharp sting that makes her writhe. When he accords the other side of her ass the same treatment, she raises her head as much as she can and glares up at him. "You son of a bitch!"
He gives another throw-his-head-back-and-cackle-evilly response. "Spirit," is all he says, before continuing.
Jane isn't counting, but it seems to take awhile, the blows coming at predictable intervals and following a pattern that she can easily work out. Right cheek, left cheek, back of right thigh, back of left thigh, repeat, and she can't help tensing in anticipation of each impact, her gasps soon turning to moans and grunts, the sting turning into several kinds of heat, some of them not unpleasant.
It helps when the hand in her hair releases, and he puts it to work teasing her breasts, tugging gently on the nipples between blows, pinching firmly while landing strikes.
The balance of pleasure and pain leaves her mind in fragments, unable to focus on anything beyond the signals her body is sending her. The sounds forced out of her and of the impact of skin on skin ring in her ears. Time bends, folds, and stretches, and she isn't sure how long her 'punishment' goes on for.
But it does eventually stop, and he slides his hand down across her sore flesh and right between her shaking thighs. The contact wrenches another gasp out of her, his fingertips arrowing in on her clit ruthlessly, circling the slick flesh with firm pressure.
"You're so very wet," he purrs. "I knew you would enjoy that." His laugh is low and husky and Jane feels herself blush scarlet, but he doesn't wait for her to reply – and what exactly would she say anyway? - he just pushes what feels like a lot of fingers deep into her, and she groans, her hips bucking back against his hand.
He cackles and it sounds like pure evil as he twists his hand slowly inside her, and Jane turns her head away from him, trying to silence her groans, fighting to withhold something from him, even if it's just the sounds of her pleasure.
The battle is lost immediately, though. He starts to spank her again, though not nearly as hard as before. He doesn't need to spank hard, she's so sensitive now, he barely has to do anything. But he's also moving the fingers inside her in rough quick strokes, filling her every time his palm makes stinging contact with her burning skin. When he pulls slick fingers out and attacks her clit again, all the while continuing to spank, it's too much, her control is gone, and Jane screams and comes so hard she can see coloured lights swirling across the backs of her eyelids.
Jane blinks and tries to shake sweaty strands of hair out of her face, tries to get her body to work, tries to prepare herself for more resistance. If she knows Loki, this was only the beginning of what he has planned for her.
"Still not screaming my name?" he mocks above her. "It matters not. I own you. I am your god, and you will worship me as such, helpless little slave." He pushes her off his lap without warning, though he catches her elbow in a flash and supports her as she weaves alarmingly on legs that feel about as steady as Jell-O.
He only releases her once she can stand on her own (if with difficulty). Jane is almost afraid to look over at him, but when she finally works up the nerve, he's not even looking at her. Instead he's unfastening his cape somehow from the shoulders of his armour plating, and as she watches, he folds it neatly several times, until he has formed it into a small rectangle. He drops it on the ground between his feet, unlaces his pants and pulls himself free, then fixes her with a narrowed, dangerous gaze.
"Kneel before me!" he commands. When Jane hesitates, his expression darkens further. "Do you need another, harsher lesson? I am more than prepared to give it. Otherwise, you will obey me. NOW!"
Shakily, Jane walks forward until she is standing between his legs. It's surprisingly hard to drop to her knees with her hands bound behind her back, but he takes her elbow and helps her, guiding her down until her knees are resting on his folded cape. It's almost incongruous, him so concerned about protecting her knees while maintaining the game, but it also reminds her that it's all just illusion. He wraps a hand tightly in her hair again and pulls her forward until her lips press against the head of his cock, and Jane closes her eyes and tries to relax. She's helpless, and there's nothing she can do except give up control to him. She focuses instead on the taste of him, the scent of him, all salt and musk and leather.
Loki directs her every movement, making her do exactly what he wants. At first it's to trace her tongue up and down his length, then to press kisses against his balls. Finally he orders her to open her mouth and slides himself inside, then holds her head still by the hair, while he moves himself slowly in and out, caressing his length along her tongue.
His grip on her hair isn't painful, but Jane is now more than a little worried that he'll force himself too deep into her mouth, until she gags, and that does not appeal to her at all. But there's no way to tell that to him, not in her current position, and she doubts looking up at him pleadingly will do much, since that's probably expected of her in this particular scene.
But even when he starts to gasp, his fingers tightening fractionally in her hair, he never pushes himself in too deeply for her comfort. He's not just controlling her, Jane realizes. He is exercising an equally iron grip on himself, maybe even more than over her.
Her tension easing, Jane opens her eyes and looks up at him, watching his face as he gets closer and closer to the edge. She presses her tongue up harder against the underside of his shaft, feeling him stiffen even more against the edges of her teeth. The little bit of his face that she can see, that's not covered by his horned monstrosity of a helmet, is sheened with sweat and flushed red, his breathing speeding up and rasping dryly in his long throat.
He snarls something she doesn't understand and stops dead, his eyes locked to hers as he spills himself across her tongue in hot pulses. He slowly releases his grip on her hair and smirks down at her, radiating pure smugness. It's entirely appropriate to his role, though Jane has to fight not to smirk right back at him.
"Very good, my pet," he praises her, chuckling. Jane collapses back onto her heels, watching as Loki tucks himself in and laces up again. She wonders what else he has up his sleeve, if anything.
"You got what you wanted, so just let me go," Jane hisses at him.
He laughs loudly, the sound seeming to slice through the clearing like a sword-thrust. "Let you go? That was merely the appetizer, slave. But I will allow you to rest for the next act. In a manner of speaking." He leans forward, takes her arm and pulls her back onto her feet, then picks up his cape. Rising to his full height, he eyes her naked body while shaking the cape out, then he moves a little away and spreads it out on the grass with meticulous care.
He kneels on the cape, then beckons her over, scowling when Jane stands her ground. "Move, wench!" He snarls, raising a hand warningly, and Jane scrambles to obey, not missing how the corner of his mouth quirks in amusement. She's had enough 'punishment' for one day.
He pulls her down to sit in front of him, facing him, and Jane winces slightly as her tender ass makes contact with the hard lumpy ground underneath his cape. But she doesn't have much time to focus on that; he's pulling off her socks and shoes, and then he pushes her down onto her back. She can't figure out what he's doing, and a yelp of surprise escapes her when powerful hands grasp her hips and seem to pull her lower body straight up into the air.
By the time he's finished positioning her, she's practically hanging upside-down. She feels folded in half, her legs dangling helplessly down over the arm he has looped firmly around her hips, her shoulders and the back of her head resting in his lap. Cool leather and cooler, hard metal press against her bound hands and her back, and the blood is rushing to her head, dizzying her. Still, she can't help but notice that her most sensitive areas are now mere centimeters below his chin.
"Wh-what are you doing?" Jane stammers.
He chuckles. "Whatever I desire, of course. Don't worry, little girl, you'll like it."
He lowers his head and begins, Jane biting off a squeal as sharp teeth nibble delicately at the outer folds of her sex. She digs her nails into the leather of his tunic, twisting her head from side-to-side as he wraps one arm tightly around her hips and uses his free hand to part the folds of her sex, baring the throbbing little node for him to toy with. His tongue lashes against the spot, over and over, and Jane groans deeply, squeezing her eyes shut, sweat rolling down her sides.
When she opens her eyes next, of course he's watching her, green eyes burning down at her, and Jane can't help looking at his horns, the curves of them glinting in the light of the two moons. A stray thought comes to her then, that it's all too easy to imagine that she's trapped in Hell, being ravished by an evil, lustful god….actually, except for the Hell part, Jane supposes that's exactly what some would say was happening to her right now.
Holding her gaze, Loki raises his glistening mouth from her core. "Such a beautiful quim," he purrs, winking obscenely at her.
Did he just say 'quim'? Jane asks herself. It makes her want to giggle for some reason – it's such a ridiculous word, isn't it? – but that and all other logical thought ceases when Loki pushes two fingers deep inside her, then pulls them out and applies the slickened digits to her swollen clit. She does squeal this time, despite her best efforts, and digs her nails into his armour again, feeling light-headed. "And so responsive," Loki further observes, laughing low and threateningly again.
His tongue delves deeply inside her, fingertips teasing her clit in a maddening rhythm, and Jane can feel all her muscles starting to clench tightly, her body tensing like a bowstring. So close, she's nearly there, he's probably going to stop, if she knows her God of Mischief at all-
What he does next shocks her, even though it doesn't register as painful at all. Jane's not even sure how to describe it to herself. He's tapping (spanking?) her clit firmly, over and over, and each tiny impact sends a shockwave through her, pushing her closer to the edge.
"Yesss," he hisses, "Come for your god," Loki urges her, and everything seems to merge into one intense wave, swallowing her whole, and she comes harder even than before, screaming and twisting helplessly, the blood pulsing so strongly in her head that her ears are deafened by the internal sound.
"My God," she gasps when he lets her back down onto the cape, Jane remembering too late that he'll probably jump on that comment, but he only grins, all too pleased with himself.
Jesus Christ, I can barely move, she realizes. That's one drawback to sleeping with a god – he has so much more stamina than I do. He must realize how spent she is, too, as her hands are suddenly free, her bonds disintegrating as Loki makes a sharp cutting motion in the air with one hand.
"Liked that, did you?" he chuckles darkly, and rolls her unresisting body over onto her stomach. "Get on your knees, slave. No, face away from me," he corrects her as she moves to obey him. If he still wants to play the defiance game with her, he's out of luck. Two orgasms are apparently all he needs to 'break' me, Jane thinks, trying not to smirk herself. Yeah, he'll probably comment on that, knowing him.
But he's apparently busy with other things. As she waits on hands and knees, trying not to shiver as a cool breeze strokes across her damp skin, there's a soft rustling behind her. A few moments later, a torn condom wrapper is tossed onto the ground next to her left hand. Well, Jane supposes it's an effective way of letting her know that he's using one, without him having to tell her and thus break role.
His hands skim over her backside, Jane flinching at how sensitive she still is, and then he grasps her hips and pulls her backward, lining her up and holding her immobile for his entry.
His very first thrust is slow and gentle, though Jane still gasps as he fills her, her whole body sensitized after everything they've done together. But after that he gives her no quarter, every thrust verging on brutal. He invades her over and over, each time almost pulling all the way out, and then slamming back into her ruthlessly, ramming the air out of her lungs. The creases and edges of his armour are forced hard against the sore flesh of her backside, it feels like each line is etching itself into her sore skin, but it hurts in the best possible way.
They've passed beyond fucking. This is two animals in rut. And Jane's loving every bone-jarring minute, logical brain be damned.
The harsh sounds of their breathing fill the clearing, the sound of flesh slapping into flesh, and Jane lets her elbows collapse, pressing her burning face into the surprisingly soft grass, not bothering to muffle the moans and groans that escape her every time he invades her again.
He stops suddenly, and Jane feels him run a gentle hand up her sweat-slickened spine. Then he's pulling out of her slowly, and Jane, puzzled, raises her head and looks back over her shoulder at him. What the heck is Loki doing now?
He rolls her over onto her back, looking her slowly up and down, and to Jane's confusion he pulls off the helmet, discarding it into the grass next to them. Though his hair is practically drenched with sweat, so maybe she shouldn't be too surprised he's ditching it.
The air around him twists in golden ripples, the gold plates fading away to nothing, leaving him in his usual surcoat and tunic. These he starts to strip off, along with everything else except the condom, his rapid breathing matching hers. There's an expression in his eyes which Jane isn't sure she can identify, especially in the context of this scene, but at a guess, she would say it's almost….tender?
Once he's gloriously naked (yes, he's completely healed now, his ribs are totally unbruised as far as Jane can tell), he gets back down on his knees and loops one strong hand behind Jane's neck, the other around her waist, and hoists her back into his lap. He eases himself inside her again, and everything is different this time, gentle and slow and tender, where everything was rough and sharp and demanding mere moments ago.
His eyes never leave her face, their hands clasping, his fingers twining with hers in a way that sends a pang straight through her heart. He kisses her – the first time he's done so this entire night, Jane realizes – and it mirrors what their lower bodies are doing, gentle and unhurried. Even after breaking the kiss, his face stays close to hers, their breaths mingling, strands of his damp hair tickling her face.
He speeds up so gradually that Jane is taken aback to find herself on the verge of yet another orgasm, something Loki guarantees when he extricates one hand from hers and reaches between them to press firm circles around her clit. Though she doesn't scream this time when she reaches climax, she does gasp out his name, and she can feel him smiling against her throat.
He comes at last, his hand tightening around hers almost to the point of pain, growling low through his teeth as he releases himself deep inside her. They slump bonelessly together, and Loki slowly rolls backwards, taking Jane with him. They end up sprawled on his dampened cape, Jane lying on his chest and wrapped in his arms.
They lie there for a long while, their breathing gradually quieting, the wind cooling their sweat-drenched bodies. At first Jane enjoys the breeze, but after awhile she starts to shiver, though it isn't for long because of course Loki notices. He shifts himself around until he can pull his cape out from under them, then he shakes it out and spreads it over them like a blanket, his trapped body heat soon easing her shudders.
Jane closes her eyes and relaxes fully against him, part of her wishing this moment will never end. As if somehow they can stop time, and she'll no longer have to worry about SHIELD finding out about them, or Erik or Darcy, or about Thor changing his mind about leaving Loki here with her.
Or about whether or not Loki will ever really let her in, beyond these sexual olympics.
As if somehow sensing the train of her thoughts, Loki asks softly: "Did I please you?" Jane wonders if she's imagining hesitation in his question.
"What?! Um, hello, you just gave me three orgasms here," she teases, and then stops and thinks. "Yikes, once again I owe you."
He chuckles. "Did I not say before that it is not a competition? In fact," – and Jane can easily imagine the sinful smirk on his face, even though her head is tucked into the curve of his neck and she can't see his expression- "I was thinking the other day that I should possibly attempt to see just how many times I can bring you to climax in one session-"
Jane groans loudly and semi-seriously, interrupting him. "Christ, I'm sorry I brought it up. I feel almost comatose right now, and you want to push further?" She pokes him in the ribs playfully. "I think you really do want to break me."
"I did not mean right this moment," he points out, but she can tell he's still smirking. "It is only a consideration for the future."
"Is that a threat?" she can't help ribbing him.
"A promise," he counters archly. Oh yes, Jane would bet a year's worth of data that he's doing the smirking thing. Perv, she thinks affectionately.
Then she decides to say it out loud. "Perv," she accuses him.
His arms squeeze her slightly, then relax. "As are you, my dear Jane. But we shall keep that between ourselves, yes?"
She snickers and silence falls again, only the leaves around them whispering in secretive rustles to each other.
After awhile Jane stretches languorously, her eyes starting to feel heavy. She's never felt more sated, and he's very warm against her, and it's getting harder and harder to stay awake.
Out of the blue he says something, startling her back to full consciousness. "Huh?" she asks thickly.
He clears his throat, but then pauses for a long moment, as if he is second-guessing whatever he just said to her. "I said, thank you."
Jane blinks. "For what? You did most of the work. In fact, shouldn't I be the one thanking you?"
But he continues as if she hadn't interrupted. "For the gift you have given me."
Jane blinks some more and leans up so she can see his face. "What gift? I'm not following you."
"The gift of your body. Of your trust," he says, looking back at her with an intensity that almost forces Jane to drop her eyes.
"Oh," Jane says, not sure what answer is appropriate here. "Um, you're welcome?" It's awkward, this whole exchange is awkward, but it's kind of sweet, too. It seems tonight is full of firsts for her.
"And thank you," Jane adds, leaning up further and kissing him thoroughly. She lays down again, tucking her head under his chin once more. There's more she should probably be saying, like going into specifics about what exactly she is thankful for, but she's not sure how to put her thoughts into words. And there's always the problem that she still doesn't know where that line in the sand is. He's apparently happy to continue their current arrangement, but if she crosses the line, if she dares to use words like love, will that cause things to grind to a halt?
And really, can she apply love to what they have? In so many ways, she barely knows him. Can she really love someone who has so many walls between himself and her, emotionally if not physically?
I don't want to think about that, she decides. Cuddling with Loki is still pretty rare and precious, and damn it, she wants to enjoy every second.
So she does.
Jane wakes up alone in her trailer and quickly realizes that it's almost noon. She dresses swiftly, trying not to dwell on how tender her backside feels, nor the slight soreness between her legs. It's not that either sensation is unpleasant, but she has personal business to attend to this afternoon, and she doesn't want to be distracted.
She remembers falling asleep in Loki's arms, cradled to his chest, but that's where her memory ends. He must've teleported her back here while she slept, and then left.
Again.
It's still progress, she reminds herself firmly, bustling around the trailer preparing a quick lunch. She'll have to eat fast, if she wants to leave lots of time to prepare for meeting with the first landlord, for the apartment in the centre of town.
Just as she sets her plate down on the table, the phone rings, surprising her. It's Sunday, after all, and although research isn't exactly a 9-to-5, five-day-a-week job, she and Darcy agreed a long time ago that Sunday was their day of rest. Sacrosanct. Erik knows that, too. And who else would be calling her, other than Erik or Darcy?
Unless it's the God of Mischief and Phone-Sex, she reminds herself. But she picks up the phone anyway. If it's Loki, she can always ask him to wait until after her apartment-hunting is done-
"Doctor Foster," says a male voice, and although it's a little familiar to her, Jane can't place it. It certainly isn't Loki or Erik, that's for sure.
"Yes?" she asks.
"It's Nick Fury," he says.
Jane's heart leaps into her throat – does he know? – but he continues: "If you have a moment, there's something important I'd like to consult with you about…"
Jane is standing in front of 'Apartment A' and she pauses to glance down at her notepad, with its list of questions and reminders. Ask about noise levels, ask about any bug issues, check the water pressure in the shower…she thinks she's remembered everything. She starts to reach for the doorbell.
"Am I too late to join you?" asks a familiar voice from behind her, and Jane smiles and turns around.
Then she blinks, astonished, because Loki is not wearing his usual armour. Or in fact, any armour at all. Instead, he's wearing a black suit jacket and tie, a white button-down shirt, black dress pants and shoes, and a long black coat.
She looks him slowly up and down. It's strange how odd he looks to her in normal human clothes, after seeing him so often in his elaborate sets of armour. Of course, had he shown up in the gold plate and horns, that would have been utterly insane – how the people on the street would have stared, assuming Loki had let them see him – and yet, at some level Jane supposes that's exactly what she would have predicted him to do, mischief-lover that he is.
"You clean up nice," she says, smiling up at him. He smiles back, but looks puzzled.
Oh. "It's a hu- Midgardian expression. It means you look really handsome when you get all dressed-up." Though as soon as she says that, it occurs to her that given how elaborate his armour is, the dress pants and jacket actually seem less dressy, compared to that.
He raises an eyebrow at her. "You do not approve of my armour?"
Jane shakes her head. "No, I like it just fine, it's a good look. Just maybe not for apartment-hunting." The word hunting reminds her of last night's activities, though, and Jane feels a blush creeping over her face. From the sudden smirk on Loki's face, he's obviously thinking about that, too.
Before he can find a way to push more of her buttons – because she just knows he would – she turns and rings the doorbell. An older woman opens it a moment later, and smiles at both of them. "Hello again, Miss Foster."
"Mrs. Lassiter, thanks for letting me take another look at the place," Jane says, shaking hands with her. "This is my friend-" Too late, Jane wonders how exactly she is supposed to introduce him. 'Loki of Asgard?' 'Norse God of Mischief and Kinky Sex-Games?' 'Failed Conqueror of Earth?'
Loki glides up next to Jane and extends his hand. "Loki Lokisson," he interjects smoothly, and Jane has to wonder if letting him introduce himself as Loki-anything is the best idea. The fact that an alien named Loki had tried to take over Manhattan was common knowledge. She doesn't think anyone will connect the name – or Loki's face – to anything to do with Puente Antiguo, since only his Destroyer had been here before, but the Battle of Manhattan had been big news.
Too late, it also occurs to her that this is a small town. People talk. Jane doesn't know everyone, certainly, as she is not the most sociable of people. And there are strangers passing through here all the time. But still, the tongues do tend to wag. So could Erik or Darcy eventually hear about the 'friend' named Loki who had helped Jane with her apartment search?
Unfortunately there's nothing Jane can do about it now. Unless Loki really does have some ability to control minds.
But Mrs. Lassiter doesn't seem aware of the Manhattan connection. "An interesting name. You're not from around here?"
Loki shakes his head and smiles sweetly. "No, you could say such."
She beckons them both inside. "Just let me get the key, I'll be right with you."
Jane wipes her suddenly sweaty palms on her jeans as the landlady walks away. Loki, observant as always, leans to Jane's ear. "What troubles you, Jane?"
"Maybe you shouldn't have told her your name," Jane says in a low voice. "We don't know how many people might remember that a guy named Loki tried to take over the world." Then she remembers something else. "Or who might recognize you from a photo or video."
He shrugs, so unconcerned that Jane wonders if maybe she is blowing things out of proportion.
Then his lips curve in a slow smirk, which makes Jane nervous all over again. "If anyone cares to ask, you can always say it was a jest. That we were playing games of the 'evil god' and 'helpless maiden' variety earlier." His smirk becomes positively wicked, his hand ghosting lightly across her still-sensitive backside. "It even is the truth," he points out with mock-innocence, grinning as Jane gasps at the liberties he is trying to take with her.
Jane rolls her eyes and slaps at his hand – he doesn't dodge away like he did last night, but he does grin and wink at her – and steps away from him, pretending to be more annoyed than she actually is.
She manages to smooth out her expression just as the landlady bustles back towards them, and a quick glance in Loki's direction reassures her that he is back to pretending to be a gentleman. Focus, she tells herself. She has a lot of work ahead of her – packing up, moving in, unpacking, selling the trailer – and it would really be aggravating if she picked a place, and then decided she'd made the wrong decision.
She follows Mrs. Lassiter to the apartment, Loki ambling along behind them and studying everything with obvious curiosity. Unexpectedly, she finds herself smiling, despite the potential dangers of Loki being discovered.
He does care.
They finish their assessment of the first place, and then go to visit 'Apartment B', the one that's on the outskirts of town pretty close to the lab. Jane glances nervously through the space between it and the next building, in the direction of the lab, just before they go in to view the second apartment. Then she remembers that it's Sunday and neither Darcy nor Erik – though of course it's Erik she's mostly worried about, since he'd know Loki on sight – should be at the lab today.
Although she's always loved all the windows in the lab, with all the sunlight and stars that she can see through them, ever since meeting Loki all those windows seem to be more of a liability than anything else.
But she had been able to tell even from here that the lab was empty, so Jane had breathed an inner sigh of relief, and focused again on the task at hand.
Viewing completed, they say goodbye to the landlord and then stand outside in the street. Jane again gazes through the gap between buildings, looking out across the desert. She's silent for a long moment, still pondering the relative merits of the two places, Loki waiting patiently beside her.
As much as she loves the idea of living away from the lab, she thinks she's going to go with Apartment B, the place they just finished visiting. It's cheaper, has the extra room, and it is quieter. Oh, and the landlord said that she'd have access to the roof and could even take over a corner and create a little outdoor space for herself, if she wants.
She says as much to Loki, who nods slowly. "I do not have much experience in such matters," he points out, "and sadly, my personal chambers in Asgard are larger than even that first domicile we visited."
Jane smiles a little, shaking her head. "Spoiled, were you?"
He does that haughty expression of his. "I was a prince of Asgard, wench!" Though as soon as he finishes saying it, he looks a little sad to her. Was, indeed.
Feeling bad for him, Jane steps close and stretches up on her tiptoes to kiss him. As much to distract him as anything else, she asks: "So I'm guessing your vote is for the first place? It's bigger."
He shakes his head, sliding a gentle hand across her cheek and into her hair. "You have no servants to maintain the residence, and living alone as you habitually do, I cannot see that you would need so much space. And you did appear to like the larger wardrobe. Or did I mistake that?"
'Wardrobe'? He must mean the closet. "No, you're right….I think I'll sleep on it tonight, but yes, I do think I'm leaning towards this place." She motions over her shoulder.
"Excellent," Loki says, cocking his head and smirking as his hands wrap around her hips and pull her lower body flush against his. "Will you spend the rest of this day with me? I promise I will be exceedingly gentle, compared to last night."
It's very tempting – surprisingly so, given how sated she'd felt when she woke up, after everything they'd done - and she starts to say yes…and then bites her lip, as she remembers Director Fury's phone call. He'd asked her to call him later this afternoon once her apartment-hunting was done, and for obvious reasons, it's probably better if Loki isn't with her when she does that.
It's so hard not to share her excitement with Loki, because what Fury had told her had changed everything. When she'd found out that Thor had taken the Tesseract and left after the Battle of Manhattan, she'd been convinced that it was the end of her Einstein-Rosen Bridge dream. No power source, no portal to another world. Then, she'd decided to keep working on it anyway, double-checking all her calculations, on the off-chance that somehow a suitable power source would turn up…
And now such a power source just might be within reach. Fury had told her that Tony Stark was considering building 'the mother of all arc-reactors' (his words), and Fury wanted Jane to assess the feasibility of such a project being able to fuel her homemade portal.
She doesn't need to go to Asgard anymore – and in fact, she may not be welcome there anyway considering she's Loki's lover, even if Thor had been too gentlemanly to say so – but that hasn't lessened the allure of visiting other worlds. And of being proven right. Everyone who used to laugh at her and call her crazy, her peers in the scientific community? Seeing them have to eat their words would be so sweet.
She also realizes that Loki would probably be invaluable as a guide to the other worlds in the universe, which is part of the reason why she wants so badly to share this with him.
However, until she knows for sure why he's here, and why he attacked the Earth before, she can't risk it. She'd told Thor that she didn't see herself as being useful to Loki in any way that could possibly threaten the Earth, but if this arc reactor idea works and she's back in the game…
Could that even be why he came here in the first place? On the off chance that the one mortal capable of building a portal to other worlds might eventually find the means to make one?
But Jane shoves these unwanted notions away. Even though she's only known him for a brief time, Loki has given no sign whatsoever that he even cares about Jane's work, or conquering Earth again. If he's so keen to take over, wouldn't he be encouraging me, at least a little, to keep doing my research? But he hasn't asked me about it, or even spoken to me about it, not once.
She's no expert on world domination or tyrants, but Loki would have to be a pretty patient man (god) to just sit back and watch things unfold on their own for who knows how many months, years, maybe even decades.
Yes, but he's immortal. He has all the time in the world, a negative, nagging little voice reminds her.
Well, I don't even know if Stark can build a stable arc-reactor powerful enough. It's still theoretical, Jane argues with herself. Until she knows this will work, it seems pointless to worry about pitfalls that may not even exist.
Besides, Thor is still out there. If Loki puts a foot wrong, Thor is going to come back, right?
But Loki is still waiting for her answer, so Jane shakes her head and looks up at him regretfully. "Sorry, I'm up to my eyeballs in work. I wasn't expecting to sleep in til noon. I blame you completely for that, by the way." Good thing he has no clue about the 'Sunday is A Day of Rest' lab rule.
"How you wound me, Jane Foster," Loki says drolly, clutching dramatically at his heart. "May I at least accompany you to your ale-barrel?" He motions towards the trailer in the distance.
"You may," Jane responds, grinning and linking her arm through his.
He smiles down at her, and Jane thinks, not for the first time, just how sweetly charming he can be when he lets down his guard. Maybe she's the only one who's ever even seen him like this? She wonders.
They walk away at a leisurely pace, too absorbed in each other to notice Erik Selvig is standing in the street several buildings down from them, an expression of panicked realization and horror spreading like slow poison over his face.
(Please don't hate me! Loki made me do it!)