A/N: When I wrote the dancing scene I had the Stone Sour version of "Wicked Game" in mind for the street performers. I'd recommend checking it out, I think it works well.

A couple days passed, and the more time they spent around each other, the more Hermione admitted to herself that she was enjoying Loki's presence. There were times when his condescending nature would grate on her nerves, and she suspected at times he was doing it on purpose to get a rise out of her, but most of the time he was an intelligent, open individual. They would talk for hours on end about the use of magic in their realms, and the moral justifications for war or killing. Their conversations might not be the most pleasant subjects, but she considered it part of her job to get to know that side of him. She wanted an understanding of the man before she stood up and vouched for him. But occasionally he would say something horribly insensitive, and she'd leave him alone for a while. After the first few of these, he seemed to be making a conscientious effort to avoid those moments. At times she wondered if he was starting to enjoy her company as much as she was starting to enjoy his.

"I feel like getting away from the bright lights tonight," he announced one afternoon.

"Where would you like to go?"

"Out of the stifling crush of people this one road boasts."

"Okay," she nodded.

As was now her custom, she looped her hand into his arm and allowed him to lead her. They quickly turned away from the most populous areas, wandering into the surrounding city where there were still signs of a large population, but it was the area more for those who worked in the large, bright buildings instead of temporarily inhabited them. They found a small bar and grill where they had dinner, then took to the streets again as the sky above grew darker, though remained starless with the nearby lights.

"Pathetic," he suddenly scoffed.

"What is?" she sighed, trying not to sound annoyed.

"The blatant lies humans will fall for, just because those lies are dressed up as something legitimate."

"What brought this tirade on?"

"The signs on some of the shops," he said, motioning to the mostly darkened strip mall across the street. "They promise things that no one with any sense would believe, and yet you mortals eat it up."

"That's not fair. Many of those businesses prey on those with little means, who are desperate for a fix, even a temporary one, for their situation. Humans do a great job at victimizing each other."

"And it is all done legally."

"Not all the time, but yes, businesses that promise money now without warming that the borrower will be paying it back tenfold are legal."

"And people agree to it because they are too imperceptive to look at the big picture of what they are being offered or what is around them."

"There is much more to it than that..." she protested.

"You fall victim to it as well, my dear. It's part of your nature."

"What makes you say that?" she asked, suddenly cross.

"Would you like a demonstration?"

"Please."

"Have it your way," he said, as a scantily dressed woman passed in front of them. Without warning he reached out and grabbed her, spinning her to look at Hermione, holding a knife he produced out of nowhere to her throat. Hermione responded within a second, drawing her wand, and pointing it at Loki. The girl screamed, but was quickly silenced as Loki put a hand over her mouth.

"Why is your wand out, Hermione?" he asked, almost innocently.

"Because you have a girl at knifepoint," she snapped.

"Do you think I would hurt her?"

"You have to admit you have made points with similar outcomes."

He smirked. "That I have. But why would I hurt this girl? What point would it make?"

"I'm still trying to figure out how this is proving I am imperceptive."

"I'm getting to that. I promise I won't hurt her."

"The knife says different."

"Do you know her?"

"I don't need to know her to know she is in danger right now."

"So you admit you have your wand trained on me because she is in danger?"

"Most people with knives to their throat are," she hissed, and the girl whimpered.

"What is she to you? She is nothing but a whore, heading off to spend some time in a bar, hoping a rich businessman will pay handsomely for the pleasure of fucking her."

"What is she to you? Something to make a point. You are trying to make the point with me, so why is it not my throat you have that knife to?"

"Because my point is about perception. Your wand is trained on me. You are ready to cast a spell the moment this knife moves, because you're not willing to let me harm a woman you do not know. Even though I gave my word I would not hurt her, you still think she is in danger. All your focus is on the threat in front of you, and you ignore the bus full of people behind me who are also in danger."

Her eyes flicked to the bus behind him, and to her shock she could see two men with guns moving about, taking wallets and jewelry. Her mouth fell open, and the girl suddenly let off a sob and stumbled into her arms. She turned back to Loki to find he wasn't there; he had released the girl without harm. Her eyes darted back to the bus where she could see him standing among the passengers. Two quick flashes later both gunmen had disappeared from view.

She quickly cast an Obliviate on the working girl then hurried to the bus. Loki had not killed the gunmen, merely knocked them out, but he now had an entire bus full of scared, confused passengers looking at him.

"I'm sorry, ladies and gentlemen," she panted when it became obvious Loki was relishing in the aftermath of the short fight rather than doing something to rectify the situation. "If you give me a moment I'll have everything sorted out."

And she cast an Immobulus charm to keep them all in place. Quickly she moved through the group, modifying memories, and then positioning some of the men by the gunmen.

"What are you doing?" Loki asked, sounding curious.

"They are going to remember the men fought back," she murmured. "Instead of a demigod who showed up, cast two spells, and left."

He smirked as she had a woman call the police. She stepped back and surveyed her work.

"Did I miss anything?" she asked.

"No. Your perception in this situation seems adequate."

She opened her mouth to shoot a retort at him, but he suddenly wrapped an arm around her from behind, and she felt a sensation akin to Apparating, though not quite as dizzying. When she looked around again they were a block away from the bus, watching as police officers convened on it, guns drawn.

"They will be fine," he murmured, turning away from the scene and starting to walk back towards the strip, but she quickly caught up with him, grabbing his sleeve, and spinning him to her. Her fierce chocolate eyes met his green, and for a fraction of a second, he felt a surge of desire. He had found the fighter in her, and it was alluring.

"If you hold a knife, or a gun, or any kind of weapon, including your hands, to an innocent human between now and when I leave, I will walk away, Loki," she hissed. "If you harm someone I will do my damnedest to get a message to your family that you don't deserve another chance."

He chuckled at the absurdity of her threat. "You couldn't even if you tried."

"When there's a will, there's a way, and you'll find I'm very strong-willed," she snapped before storming off, Disapparating directly to her room as soon as she was sure she was out of sight of any Muggles.

"That you are," he murmured to thin air before starting to walk home, his mind suddenly troubled. The girl had thrown his mind into further turmoil. He had often thought of how his family would perceive her, and the more he got to know her, the more he was sure he had made the right choice to convince his family. But in the moment their eyes connected something had shifted in him. Suddenly he doubted his decision to give such a hands-on demonstration. And it wasn't because it would no doubt get back to his family. What they would see would be beneficial for him. He had helped the bus load of people, training his sight only on what was giving them danger. The magic might have been a little much, he could easily have taken them down in hand-to-hand fighting, but he had suppressed his magic for so long he used it just to get some of his pent-up energy out. But he had created a mess, and Hermione had to fix things. He would apologize for that, for suddenly he found he cared more about her actual opinion of him than he would be willing to admit aloud. Though he knew he would have to suppress any desire he held for the girl. It would only lead to trouble later, and he blamed it on going too long since his last sexual encounter to even consider having feelings for the little mortal girl.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Hermione was so upset by the incident that she refused to see him the next day. When she emerged in the afternoon, the day after, she found him irritable.

"You've come out," he quipped shortly.

"Do you prefer I stay in my room?" she shot back.

"No."

"Fine. Do you have anything more casual?"

"Do I... what?" he asked, confused and caught off-guard by the question.

"Something more casual. You can walk around like that if you want, but we're going out."

"Going out where?"

"I don't know. We're going to wander. We're going to live like the Muggles for the evening and you will watch them. You don't think highly of us mere mortals, but we are important. We have lives, no matter how pathetically short and unfulfilled you find them. You can sit up here in the lap of luxury, with people bringing you whatever you need, but that will never give you compassion for those around you. So wear whatever you want, and meet me out here in an hour."

He stared at her through narrowed eyes, but decided not to fight her, and disappeared into his room. She returned to hers, changing into a sundress, cropped jacket, and sensible flats. When she returned to the living room, he was waiting for her, wearing black slacks and a gray button-up. He tugged at the fabric in distaste, but she thought he looked handsome without looking overdone.

"It itches," he muttered, not looking up.

"I think you look good," she replied.

"I'm glad at least one of us..." he started, but paused when he saw her.

"What?" she said as his eyes ran over her slowly.

"Do not be concerned," he murmured, forcing himself to look away. Hermione had, to that point, been regulated to her professional clothes, or the comfortable, though not flattering, casual clothes she would wear around the suite and occasionally out. But her outfit was different, and it was impossible for him to not notice that the dress clung perfectly to her frame, betraying her soft curves, and put her legs, long and shapely, on display. She had applied a hint of makeup, and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. She looked utterly feminine and alluring, though a hint of a scar was visible above her breast, reminding him of the secrets hidden underneath.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"Don't know," she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him from the room. They took the elevator down and walked out onto the strip.

"Left or right?" she asked.

"You don't even have a direction?" he asked, visibly frustrated.

"Left it is, we can catch the outdoor show at Treasure Island," she said, pulling him by the hand to the left. They walked for a while in silence before he spoke up.

"I want to apologize for what happened the other night. I misjudged the situation, and should not have threatened that girl," he said softly.

"Next time, you could try making your point verbally," she replied shortly.

"Duly noted. I am sorry."

"Apology accepted."

In front of them two men had gotten into a fight over some casino chips, two women egging them on.

"This is supposed to convince me to look at humans in a different light?" he sneered.

"Not their bad behavior, obviously, but it is if you look around. People come here, and they become different people. It's liberating, not having a schedule or a boss to answer to, just being able to go out and live a little."

"You do know that is utterly depressing, the thought that they have to ask permission and get away from home to feel free?"

"This from a prince," she rolled her eyes.

"Humans spend most of their lives working for someone else, who hoards the wealth like they can take it with them to the afterlife, while those underneath beg for the scraps."

She looked at him quizzically. "Do you not live a life of luxury on Asgard?"

"I do."

"I don't know why things are done the way they are, but I have yet to see a society that does not have those with more than others. Some have wealth, or power, and others do the work below them, preparing their meals, cleaning their homes, guarding their safety. It's been like that in damn near every society ever. If everyone had an equal voice how would things get done?

"You were briefly king. I assume that position came with guards."

"I've been surrounded by guards nearly my whole life in one fashion or another."

"And they are to lay their lives down in protection of their king?" she prodded.

"Of course," he nodded.

"Do any of them have the chance to actually be king one day? Or to improve their station, perhaps becoming an exalted warrior?"

He thought for a moment. "One would have to show extraordinary ability to be considered anything more and I cannot recall a situation in which that happened."

"So even in your supposedly enlightened society, the role in which one is born into is pretty much their station in life."

"It's much the same here."

"Yes, but life is about the risks, and there can be rewards to taking them. A person can be born poor, and die rich, or the other way around. It's all about how you play your cards in life."

"Not everyone can change their station, you're speaking in ideals," he said dismissively.

"Not everyone can, but anyone can," she replied quickly. "Someone who can't afford shoes as a child can make millions advertizing them as a star athlete. Someone who can barely afford paper can become a writer and sell millions of copies. A humble person can have a billion-dollar idea. We encourage it. We love underdog tales."

"And then you happily watch as their lives fall apart, since not everyone who receives riches knows what to do with them."

"Not everyone does. Some gain riches, and manage them well, or even give them away to those less fortunate."

"And many are greedy. They don't consider any around them."

"I bet that holds true on any realm. There's no need to be the constant pessimist, Loki."

"I would call it realistic. We all have greedy moments."

"We do. But there's a difference between having greedy moments, and living with only greed in your heart."

He studied her for a moment. "You are irritatingly optimistic."

"Someone must counter your pessimism," she said, with a smile.

They arrived at the show and took a spot near the front of the crowd. Loki watched with a passing interest until a couple drunken men started cat-calling at the performers.

"Swine," he murmured.

"They're having fun," she shrugged. "They have no chance with those girls."

"They're giving in to their base desires. Attractive women dancing around and the men pool at their feet. Siren is an apt term," he scoffed, referring to the title of the show.

"What? Has no woman made you pool?" she smirked.

He furrowed his brow and didn't reply.

Her smirk became a smile as she continued, "Falling in love with someone can be a wonderful feeling, but lust can be just as thrilling. There's nothing quite like having that person who can make your brain go numb, who causes that ache in your body for them, who will take you apart in their hands and put you back together even if you're not quite the same."

"Have you found that person?" he asked.

"I've had a few lovers, some have been incredible, but I haven't found someone that I would say I truly loved. You?" she added with a smirk.

He scowled and turned his attention back to the show. When it finished she took his hand and they joined the crowd filing away from the show. She pointed to a food truck, where they got burgers and sat on a bench nearby, eating and watching the people. Loki seemed particularly interested in a young couple nearby, holding each other, oblivious to the world around them.

"Do you want to fall in love?" Hermione asked.

"Do you?" he shot back.

"Of course I do. I can have sex; that part isn't hard, but I want a connection with someone. I do want something that lasts, someone that makes me pine for them when they're gone."

"That sounds nauseatingly romantic."

"Don't tell me you never want it."

"There are many things I want that I'll never get."

"There are nine realms, there's someone out there for you," she smirked, bumping him with her elbow and nodding towards an older woman wearing too much makeup who was lighting one cigarette with the remnants of the last.

He tried to look sternly at her, but started chuckling. "I'll ask her to dinner tomorrow, if you ask him," he said, motioning towards a drunk, heavyset man who had stripped to a Speedo.

She started laughing, and he couldn't stop the smile crossing his face. "Ten at night, and already stumbling drunk," she sighed. "I think I'll just ask you to dinner, instead."

"We've done dinner together nearly every night."

"And I've enjoyed it," she said, standing and throwing her wrapper away. He did the same, taking her hand and starting to walk back towards their hotel.

"You have?" he asked, sounding casual.

"Call me crazy, but I think you're almost a friend."

"Almost?" he raised an eyebrow.

She studied him a moment. "Perhaps you are. I don't know. You're hard to read at times, Loki, and I think friendship is a two-way street."

He studied her for a moment. "Then friendship it is."

"Okay," she smiled. They walked past a street performer singing and strumming a guitar while a few people danced and placed money in his open guitar case. Suddenly she stopped, pulling him back to her. He stood, looking at her in confusion.

"Don't dance on Asgard?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He pulled her close, placing a hand on the small of her back, drawing her body into his as she placed her hand on his shoulder. He took her other hand and began to lead her in a tight dance, mindful of the people around them. The longer they danced, the closer he drew her, until she was barely able to take a step without fear of their legs getting entangled. She rested her head on his shoulder, breathing in a scent not quite of this world, and closed her eyes. For a brief moment she let herself get lost in the moment, and wondered if, had they met under different circumstances, or were even from the same realm, if she'd let herself fall for him. She looked up into his face, and saw him looking back at her, his captivating eyes lost in thought.

"There's one more place I'd like to go," she whispered.

He nodded once, but their eyes stayed locked. The hand still being held in his started trembling, and the pressure of his fingers against the small of her back increased until it was almost painful. Her heart started pounding in her chest, and her brain cleared of all though save for a debate about what would happen if she kissed him. A smattering of applause as the song stopped provided the distraction they needed, and they tore their eyes away. She dropped some money in the guitar case and started walking, folding her arms over herself. How could she be so foolish? The man, no, she corrected mentally, the god, next to her would never want anything to do with a mere mortal like herself. She was misinterpreting his looks. Even if he did find her interesting, there would be no way he would spare her a second thought when he made it back to Asgard. She'd be a footnote in his history.

He walked next to her, hands clasped behind his back, mind racing. It was their first time walking next to each other without some type of contact between them, and much to his irritation he couldn't decide if it was a good or bad thing. He was getting close to the girl, too close, and he had realized as they danced that he was truly starting to care for her. And he couldn't let that happen. With any luck in the next few weeks, he'd be home, and she would be back with her friends. He'd be grateful to her if she helped him return, but he couldn't let himself think that they'd have contact after. They belonged in different places. But as much as he could justify why getting closer to the girl was a horrible idea, he missed the contact between them.

She led them to the replica Eiffel Tower, paid admission, and they wordlessly rode to the top. She went to the side and leaned against the rail, looking out over the city.

"Two hundred years ago this was a desert," she said, eyes focused on where the lights of the city gave to the dark land beyond. He stood next to her, following her gaze. "In two hundred years humans took what would have been wasted land, and not only settled it, grew all this. You may view it as a collision of sin and ill decisions, but you have to marvel at the sheer tenacity it took to build. Two hundred years ago the thought of something like this was impossible. If you had told those people what was going to be built here, that there would be giant flying machines that could bring people in by the hundreds to stay in buildings that tower the size of mountains they'd think you crazy. Imagine what they'll do in the next two hundred years.

"You may not think us as advanced as you. We don't live long lives, most of us don't have magic, and compared to you, we can't fight our way out of a paper bag without the help of machines. But we are a people, and we have evolved in amazing ways. We have done some extraordinary things, and we continue to do so every day. You may not agree with the way we do things, but there is a reason it is done that way. We may be downright primitive compared with some realms, but we've done damn good. And I don't give a damn if you still find us all pathetic. I don't care if you think you'd be able to enslave us all within a week. My point is that we, as a species, have done some monumental things, even if some have been horrible and devastating.

"You have tremendous power, Loki. If you were on the side of the light you could do some amazing things, you would be an astounding ally to anyone you swore allegiance to. I think somewhere inside you want to find someone who will give you reason to pledge your permanent alliance to Asgard or the side of the light. I don't know if there is something your family could do to do that, I don't know if you need more, or less, that's up for you to decide. But I know you want to be with Asgard and your family, or you never would have approached me. You are underestimated, the way you underestimate others. And all that leads is to defeat and humiliation. I would happily fight with you, Loki, if you asked and the cause was worthy. But I would also happily fight against you. It is up to you and what you want, and no one, from myself to your family, can answer that for you."

She paused, turned to look at him. "I think I'm the first person who has seen Loki in a while. Too many see the God of Mischief. It's what you show them. And if that's what you want to keep showing them, go ahead and trick this pathetic little mortal. It's expected of you. But I like Loki. I wouldn't mind if he stayed around."

She placed her hand on his and squeezed his fingers. "Goodnight, Loki. I hope I'll see you in the morning."

She walked off, getting into the elevator just before the doors slid shut and whisked her back to the street. He cloaked himself so no one would notice, and stood in a remote corner, looking out over the city, though his mind was elsewhere. She had, once again, thrown his mind into turmoil. But it was her last sentence which was most telling. It asked a lot of things. Did he really want to return to Asgard on his father's conditions? And who would he be if he returned? Would he go back into his old ways, or would he do his best to be the man Hermione thought he could be?

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

She didn't want to go back to their room, not knowing if Loki was going to be there, and she needed to clear her head. If their night together had been a date she would have said it went smashing, probably even inviting Loki back to her room, which she found she desperately wanted to do. Their dance together had stoked the embers she had worked so hard at putting out, and she knew she wasn't going to make it a night without doing something to relieve the sexual tension built up inside her. She sat on a bench, clutching the sides and trying to think. There were two ways to get sexual relief. The first, take care of herself. An unappealing option, as while she could bring herself to orgasm, she knew that it wasn't going to put the fire as long as the other option, sex, would. The problem with sex was it required a partner, something that she currently lacked. Part of her brain was screaming to summon up her Gryffindor courage and go ask Loki for something, anything, to fulfill her desires for just a night, but she knew she would never be able to look at him again if he laughed at her pathetic human desires and turned her down. No, she would find someone else. She could either travel halfway across the world to shack up with Charlie Weasley again, since he was always up for something with no strings attached. Or there was the attractive guy from the bookstore. She couldn't force herself to like him before, but with a couple drinks 'like' would not be an issue.

She fished in her purse until she found the card with his number. She pulled out her phone and dialed.

"'Lo?" he answered after three rings.

"Hullo. Is this Mark?"

"It is. Hello again, Dr. Hermione Granger," she could hear him smiling on the other end. "How are you?"

"I'm... fine. How are you?"

"I'm good. What's up?"

"Well, I wanted to go out tonight. Maybe go to a club or something. I was wondering if I could get a local's advice on what would be a good spot," she said, not wanting to be the one who asked to meet.

"Were you looking for a little company?"

"I wouldn't say no," she replied, biting her lip.

"I may be able to oblige. Where are you?"

"Standing outside the Paris."

"Awesome. My brother works at the Chateau, so they all know me. Can I meet you there in twenty minutes?"

"Sounds great," she smiled, closing the phone with a pit in her stomach. Part of her wanted to run, but she screwed up her courage and went inside to find a bathroom. There she used her wand to change her clothes, turning the sundress into a sexy black dress, turning her shoes into heeled booties, and changing her simple undergarments into sexy ones. She stood in front of the mirror, added a little makeup, and deemed herself acceptable, returning outside to wait. Twenty five minutes after they talked Mark came running up, apologizing for being late, looking effortlessly amazing.

"Shall we?" he asked, motioning to the door, and not waiting for a reply. He grabbed her hand and led her inside and to the club, where the bouncer waved him in with a few words exchanged between him and Mark. They stopped at the first bar they saw for drinks, and made their way onto the dance floor.

"How much longer are you in Vegas?" he asked as they danced.

"I'm not sure. I don't think I'll be here too much longer," she replied.

"And where are you going after?"

"Back to London."

"Do you live there?"

"Yes. I've lived in that area my whole life."

"I've always wanted to travel over there. When I get a little bit of money, of course. Which isn't going to happen as long as I'm a student."

"What are you studying?"

"I'm going for a dual degree in business administration and hotel administration. I want to work as a manager in one of these hotels one day."

"So you're planning on staying in the area?"

"It's home. You can make money if you play your cards right."

She chuckled. "Is that a joke you use often?"

"I think it's a go-to joke for locals," he smiled.

The conversation lulled, and Hermione was desperate to start it back up before the pit in her stomach convinced her to run. She had to stop thinking of Loki, even if it was only for a few hours. She needed some distraction, but every time there was nothing else to occupy her mind he crept back in and rooted himself there.

"So you said you like the supernatural? What do you find most fascinating?"

"If I tell you, will you think I'm a geek?"

"Not if you don't think I'm odd for finishing those books I bought already."

"All of them?" he asked, sounding impressed.

"I'm a fast reader."

"Okay. Deal. I'm fascinated with magic. I know it sounds insane, but I think that, of all the supernatural things out there, magic is the most fascinating, because I think it's the one that's most likely."

"How did you come to that conclusion?" she asked with genuine curiosity.

"It would be the easiest to hide," he shrugged. "Vampires leave bodies. Werewolves leave bodies or maimed victims. Hell, most all supernatural creatures leave bodies. But magic doesn't. I don't believe witches are like the Wicked Witch of the West with green skin and warts. I think if there are witches and wizards out there they'd look exactly like us, and we wouldn't know if we walked right by one."

She smiled, feeling like stringing him along slightly. "Do you think you've ever met a witch or wizard?"

"Oh, no," he shook his head. "I'm not even sure they exist. I just think they'd be the most likely to exist. I would think if they did they'd hide out."

"In magical communities?"

"Sort of like that. I'd imagine if you had magic, there wouldn't be a lot you'd wont for. You could make food and stuff just... poof out of thin air."

"Food seems a bit extreme. I don't think you'd want to eat something you managed to conjure out of whatever is floating in the air."

"What about money? Money would get you food and everything else you need."

"I would think that, if they had magical communities, they'd have their own money that has anti-duplication spells and a way to distinguish true coins from ones you just pulled from the air."

"Would they be limited to their own money?"

"Are you talking about Muggle money?"

"What?"

"Er... just regular currency."

He looked at her then burst out laughing. "What the hell is a Muggle?"

She thought fast, quickly replying, "It's slang in London. It means someone who is out of a specific group or lacks a specific skill. I guess, if we're talking about magical communities, Muggles would be those who don't have magic or are unaware of magic."

"To being Muggles, then," he smiled, clinking his drink against hers. "Another?"

"Let's," she nodded, following him back to the bar. She purposefully steered the conversation away from magic, and after a few more drinks they were dancing close together. Without warning he cautiously leaned forward, kissing her gently. She responded as best she could, but even inebriated she had felt no chemistry. She wanted him to be more aggressive, more demanding, more... like she was sure Loki was.

She threw herself into the kiss as Loki passed her mind, trying to drive him out. He mistook her sudden enthusiasm for excitement, and began to cautiously move his tongue against hers. .

"Should we go back to your room?" he asked.

"No!" she said a little too loudly. The last thing she needed was Loki to know what she was up to, or to laugh at her pathetic attempts to be interested in Mark. He would see right through her.

"I'm staying with a friend," she explained. "I'd prefer privacy."

"My place?"

"Yes," she nodded quickly.

They left the club, his arm around her shoulders, and hailed a taxi. The ride was short; he lived half a mile away from the strip, in an apartment with his good friend, who was sitting with two other men on the couch as they entered.

"Mark... look what the cat dragged in," the friend said.

"Shut up, Beatie. This is Dr. Hermione Granger," Mark replied, a slight slur in his voice.

"Doctor? You're really trading up in the world," another laughed.

"Go ahead and be jealous. Let's go, Hermione," he murmured, grabbing her hand and pulling her to the back of the apartment and into his room. Her stomach dropped as she looked around. Mark's bedroom looked more like a teenager's than a man in his later twenties- movie posters adorned the wall, as did several pictures of scantily clad women. His desk was a mess, his bookshelf had more movies than books, and an entertainment system seemed crammed in.

"Another drink?" he asked, opening a bottle of tequila.

"Please," she nodded, but waited until he had taken his shot before taking hers. Then his lips were back on her and he was slowly drawing her towards the bed. But she needed aggression. She roughly pulled him to her and pulled his shirt off, hoping he'd get the hint, but all that happened was he stumbled, and they fell onto the bed together.

"Sorry," he laughed nervously.

"Don't apologize," she ordered. "I really don't want to hear it."

"Okay," he smiled, kissing her again.

"Come on, Mark," she encouraged, grabbing one of his belt loops and pulling him onto her. "You can be a little more forceful."

"Okay," he said, but he sounded uncomfortable. He kissed her neck, gently, and massaged her breast over her dress, again too gently.

"More," she demanded, using her hand atop his to squeeze her breast hard. "Harder."

He finally took the hint, nipping at the skin over her collarbone and roughly pushing the straps of her dress down, exposing her lacy bra. His hand firmly massaged her breast, finding her nipple under the fabric and giving it a sharp tug.

"Yes," she moaned, her eyes closing and her head falling back.

Emboldened by her response he reached behind her, unfastening the bra and pulling it off. As his hand returned to roll the peak of her one breast his head lowered to the other, his tongue running around the outside of her nipple before flicking it with his tongue. Her eyes stayed screwed shut as an image formed itself in her brain, and it was no longer Mark atop her, but Loki. A surge of heat passed through her as she thought of his green eyes staring at her, filled with lust, and at that moment Mark's teeth gently bit down on her breast.

"Yes, Loki!" she cried out, not realizing what she had said until it slipped from her mouth.

"Loki?" Mark quickly sat up.

"Shit," she said, color flooding her face. "I'm sorry."

"Who is Loki?"

"Just... not you. I'm sorry, I don't think this is a good idea anymore," she murmured, sitting up and pulling her dress up, not bothering to look for where he had thrown her bra.

"Yeah... I guess it's not," he sounded disappointed.

Guilt flooded over her. "This isn't about you," she said. "I shouldn't have led you on like this. I'd say I would see you around, but that would be a lie."

"Yeah, sure," he looked down.

She gathered her bag and left, not stopping until she was out of the apartment and somewhere safe enough to Apparate. It took her a few minutes to compose herself. How could she deny her attraction to the demigod she was staying with after that? And there was no chance of getting him. Their night together had been a mistake. He was not the thoughtful man she had been drawn to that night. He was the God of Mischief and Lies, one who damn near took out a whole realm full of innocents because of his thirst for revenge. Who set up the one who sired him for revenge, then double-crossed and killed him. There had to be some way he could remind her of that aspect, something to make her realize her attraction to him was nothing more than a stupid schoolgirl crush. She went straight to their room at the Bellagio, but was too upset to land in her room, arriving in the entrance hall just as the door opened and Loki walked in.

"Hermione?" he asked, looking at her in concern. He reached out to touch a tear she didn't know was running down her cheek. "What's wrong?"

"Don't do that," she said, batting his hand away.

He looked down at her changed clothes, which were disheveled, a bite mark visible on the top of her breast, and his eyes widened.

"Did someone hurt you?" he growled, and she could swear she felt the magic around him surge.

"No," she said quickly. "Not like that."

"What's going on?"

"Don't worry..." she started, but he grabbed her wrist, backing her against the door of her room.

"If someone hurt you, Hermione, tell me and I will end them," his eyes were flashing.

"No one hurt me," she whispered.

He stared at her a moment. "I'll protect you."

Her breathing became shallow, their proximity impossible to ignore. How did he stoke such desire in her? If she just pushed herself forward she could kiss him. Her body screamed at her to do it, but her hand somehow found the knob to her room.

"I can't..." she started, ducking into her room and closing the door quickly and locking it with a shaking hand. She knew what she had to do next, as much as she wanted to will herself not to. She pulled the dress over her head and fell onto the bed, spreading her legs and pushing aside her knickers. She was wet and ready, so it was easy for her to plunge two fingers inside herself.

"Loki," she moaned softly as her other hand began to twist and pinch the peaks of her breast, and she used her thumb to swirl around her nub as she pulled her fingers out and pushed them back in again. She closed her eyes as she pictured him above her, plunging himself into her quickly, kissing and nipping at her skin. It didn't take long for her body to start to coil in anticipation of her orgasm, and she felt herself tightening around her fingers. She abandoned her breasts, moving her fingers further inside her and using her other hand to frantically circle her nub. Finally she cried out his name again as her orgasm ripped through her. She laid on the bed for a minute, her breath coming back to her as she tried to push what she had just done from her mind, before getting up, stripping off her knickers and shoes, and heading for her shower.

She didn't know Loki was still standing outside the door, struck motionless and silent by what he had just heard. He wanted nothing more than to open the door and go into the room, to confront her, to give her exactly what she obviously wanted, and his hand was on the knob when he heard the shower turn on, and he came out of his trance. He swept into his own room, shutting the door and sinking onto the bed. The knowledge that Hermione wanted him put their already complicated situation into dangerous territory was so tempting, but he would have to resist. Sex would only complicate things. Now it was imperative that he finish what he approached her to do, get back into Asgard, and remove himself from temptation before he found himself tangled in the same web of emotions his brother was currently caught in.