NOTE: so Age of Ultron having now passed over, hopefully there are still readers out there interested in this! it was supposed to be a teeny AU ficlet; and it's gotten so out of hand... more to come! :D

.


Chapter Three

.

One of the first things Sif did after Stuttgart was anonymously dime off "Natalie Rushman" to Tony Stark, that she was a spy and assassin probably hired by his enemies. Not that Sif was vindictive - well, yes, she was - but it was the best way to throw a wrench in Romanova's other plans regarding Loki by blowing her current mission.

But having done that, it was unquestionably dangerous walking into the penthouse suite of Stark Tower. If Romanova was still around and she knew what Sif had done, there was a fifty-story drop off the outside deck straight down to Park Avenue.

But it was a beautiful view of New York through the twenty-feet-high panoramic windows, with the other towers awash in golden light from the sunset.

Erik had called her to invite her to the Stark Foundation reception, unasked. It was a gift falling into her lap, and she could hardly say no, even if Romanova might attend, too.

The Stark Foundation had given the project a large proportion of their grant money, which Sif had always thought was a bit puzzling, since she'd read that Stark Industries had no ownership of the discovery and therefore no future percentage of profits. Perhaps Tony Stark was more forward thinking than she had thought, not counting the hiring of assassins.

This was a fancy event, so she thought to take advantage of her few minutes in high society. She'd had her hair done into artfully tousled waves and worn darker lipstick to match her bolder dress with the mesh cut-outs in the burgundy satin. She knew Loki enjoyed looking, so she thought she'd give him something to look at. Not for the first time she wished she had bigger breasts, but that also meant she didn't have to wear a bra, and the mesh on the sides let everyone know that she wasn't.

It definitely got her attention as she walked from the elevator foyer, across the expanse of marble tile, to the ridiculously large bar stretching all the way across the back of the great room and its artfully scattered low couches and tables. But she paid no attention the glances, remembering how Loki had led her to dance so comfortably. She wasn't used to attention, she didn't like attention, but right now, remembering his attitude, she could handle it just fine.

Accepting a champagne flute, she turned to survey the crowd. No Romanova was in evidence, which was a relief, but also no Loki so far. She found Erik and went to him, to thank him for the invitation, and he introduced her to another colleague, Doctor Jane Foster, who was the third of their little triumvirate of scientists on the project. She was a pretty brown haired woman, with a wide smile she bestowed on Sif, "Ah, so you're the one he was talking about."

"Me?" Sif repeated. "He was talking about me?"

"Well, not so much talking, as incessantly humming a waltz. Until we were all about to kill him," she joked then grimaced.

"Not funny, Jane," Erik said.

Her lips twisted. "No, it's not, is it?" She rubbed at her arms as if she was cold, even though she was probably the most dressed of all the women there, since she'd worn a business skirt and long-sleeved blouse rather than an evening dress. "Someone tried to kill our friend. For real. It's like some horrible nightmare."

Sif tried to smile sympathetically, though it probably came out looking more sickly. Because that was what she was planning to do, take their friend away from them. She wished she hadn't drunk any of the champagne as her stomach roiled.

Erik patted Jane's shoulder. "We finish. No matter what happens, they're not going to stop us."

"No, they're not." She had a very stubborn jaw, as if she'd had to learn to be twice as determined because she was short. It reminded Sif a bit of a terrier growling, little but more than capable of ripping out your jugular if you got close enough to the ground.

"So you're saying the project goes forward, even if something were to happen to him?" Sif asked. Her gaze settled on the ring around her finger, wondering what the point was if killing him wouldn't stop the project. Revenge? Politics? Was it any of her concern? No, it wasn't for her to think about. It was business.

"That's right," Jane said. "It's almost done now. In fact if it weren't for Stark being the moneybags we'd all be in the lab right now ready put Schafer's iridium to the test. This is a waste of time." She looked up at Erik. "I should go. I'm useless at these parties, I can do more good in the lab."

"Jane, Loki's not even here yet."

"Because he's at the lab, I bet. I'm gonna text him. No way I suffer this crap if he's not even here." She stalked away, pulling her phone out of her purse.

Erik watched her go and shook his head. "He's on his way," he reassured Sif. "You look lovely."

"Thank you." She gave a little curtsy, smiling.

"He'll be very struck." At her look, he chuckled. "My dear, trust me, I know it's him you're after."

Her smile widened and she admitted, "I was humming that dance, too. And I, I guess it's foolish, when I have nothing to offer him. I'm not a princess and I don't understand his work, but-"

Erik took her free hand and pressed it. "Sif. He doesn't need a princess or another scientist. And he certainly doesn't need yet another grasping socialite after his title; there's a reason he buries himself in work, besides being obsessed. Just be real. He can smell the fakes from a continent away."

She was a bit saddened by that, thinking that his fake-dar must have malfunctioned if he had any interest in her at all, because she was as fake as it came. She didn't want to be a princess, that was true, but she only wanted to get close to put him down like a dog. Surely ambitious liars were better than killers.

Feeling queasy, she put her barely touched champagne on a tray carried by one of the help, unwilling to drink any more.

The arrival of the target himself distracted from thoughts growing morose, as a dark unmarked helicopter landed on the pad outside. Sif watched as the door opened and Loki came out, long black coat flapping in the breeze. Sif had to grin. Now that was an entrance.

Tony Stark, apparently feeling upstaged, hurried to the glass door that led to the pad and it slid aside for him so he could greet his guest. He ushered Loki inside, and the helicopter took off again.

It took a little while before Loki made his way to her, through the crowd. The fabric of his suit jacket was so long it almost looked like it was a duster, but in a black so dark it looked tremendously expensive. It was a fashionable spin on formal wear, that made poor Erik look positively ancient in his ordinary tuxedo.

"Sif," he gripped her hand with a warm smile. "I'm so glad to see you again."

"Erik was kind enough to invite me," she said.

"Oh, he was?" He turned a narrowed glance of 'we will discuss that later' at Erik before turning his attention back to her, glance sliding with rather naughty obviousness down to her manicured toes and back up again. "You look magnificent in that dress," he said. "Dressed to kill, as they say."

Only a supreme effort of will kept her from flinching guiltily. She chuckled, and then said hastily, "Should you be joking about that? I don't see your bodyguards."

"I'm perfectly safe here. It's Tony's building, no one gets in he doesn't want to let in." He lifted the back of her hand to his lips. Ironically it was the hand with her poison ring, but she stood there, frozen, as he kissed her hand and relinquished it again. His eyes met hers and his lips parted to say something else, but then Tony Stark was suddenly there.

"Loki! There you are, come on, I need to introduce you to Maya. She's got this brilliant thing with plant circuits, you need to hear about it. I think I'm gonna fund it, but I want your opinion. And she wants to meet you." He grabbed Loki's arm, and only then seemed to realize Loki was talking to other people. The brightness in his eyes and a bit of a slur gave away that he'd been hitting the bar a bit more than he should have, as he checked Sif out even more thoroughly than Loki had. "Wow. You're really hot in that dress. And you - do I know you? How about you stay after this is over? If you think this is a great view, I can show you upstairs, 's even better."

She didn't have to respond to his tipsy flirting when Loki smoothly turned him away from her. "Tony, you were going to introduce me to Maya." He glanced back over his shoulder to Sif. "It's lovely to see you again. I hope we have a chance to dance later."

"Me, too," she called after him, then exchanged a rueful look with Erik. "He thinks you're setting us up. Are you?"

Erik didn't exactly answer the question, inspecting the beer in his glass. "I think you could be good for him."

That made her laugh, a bit bitterly. "You don't even know me," she warned him.

"I know what's important. Even if you maybe lost your way," he answered.

She opened her mouth to disagree, but couldn't find the words. He was right. She had lost her way - teen years of rebellion and running away, getting involved with the wrong people, deeper and deeper, cutting off parts of herself, until she knew she'd ended up someone she didn't want to be. All she wanted was to start over.

But these days, starting over meant money. She couldn't leave the past behind unless she could pay for it.

Which was what this hit was for. She looked at her ring, thinking she could open it, drop the needle in his martini, and be done with this confusion.

Contemplating getting a drink of her own, and another one after that, she studied the view. The night had closed in, the last light fading in the western sky, and the city lights had come on. It was beautiful, one of the best views of the city she'd ever seen through these huge extravagant panes of glass.

Looking at the building across Park Avenue, she could now see straight into the conference room of the offices over there. It was empty but lit up so brightly she could count the chairs.

The sound of another helicopter coming near wasn't a surprise, but its nearness did, as it came around the corner of the building. Another latecomer making a fancy entrance?

But instead of landing on Stark's helicopter pad, the chopper slowed and hovered in front of the windows, swaying so close the vibrations rattled the floor, she frowned. Surely they weren't allowed to do that?

Then the side door of the helicopter slid open, and someone appeared in all black tactical gear and a green mask of an alien. The sight of that jolted her - Chitauri mercs used weird masks for their hits. There was a machine gun mounted on the floor of the helicopter that the merc turned toward the window.

"Everybody get down!" she yelled and turned frantically, searching for Loki.

Oh God, he was standing about ten feet behind her, facing Stark and a dark haired woman, with his back to the window.

She ran toward Loki and leaped, hoping to tackle him to the ground, as the first bullets crashed into the window and people started to scream.

The glass started to fall, but all she could hear was the thunderous roar of the helicopter.


tbc...