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The knock resounded through the otherwise silent meeting room, echoing off the sleek metal and oak furnishings, seeping into the deep red carpet. At the head of the table sat a man, covered entirely with metal armor, save for the green cloak that was wrapped around him. His gloved hands tapped impatiently on the smooth wooden table.
"Enter," he said, voice thick with an unusual foreign accent.
The large double doors swung open widely. In the door frame stood another man, pale skinned and wearing a helmet with devilish horns curling out of it. He was flanked by two heavily armed guards, though if it came to a fight, they would be useless.
"Ah, Loki. I have been waiting. I assume you received my invitation for this meeting?" the first man stood in welcome.
"Obviously I did," Loki said as he strode in, green cape billowing behind him. "Or else I would not be here, would I?" He smirked.
The cold smile of Victor Von Doom faltered for only a brief moment at Loki's apparent sarcasm, before it returned even wider than before.
"You are as silver-tongued as the rumors tell. Impressive," Dr. Doom appraised. "Have a seat."
Loki pulled out the chair nearest him and sat, Dr. Doom copying the action. He gestured at the corner of the room and a server materialized out of the shadows, pouring each man a glass of champagne. Loki accepted it, but did not drink.
"Now why is it that you invited me here on such short notice? Surely there is a reason for this meeting, other than to share a drink," Loki said with a smirk.
"I have heard many things about you, Loki Odinson," Dr. Doom began. "Many great things."
Loki did not reply, merely raising his eyebrows.
"You are a powerful being. You have potential to be the next ruler of this world," Dr. Doom continued. "I know of your plans to conquer New York City. And I can tell you, you will not succeed."
"How wonderful.A mortal, telling me what I can and cannot do," Loki replied with a snarky grin.
"I am more than mortal. I have been trained in the art of magic, just as you were," Dr. Doom said calmly, resisting the urge to rise as Loki was trying to bait him into doing.
"So I have heard. But you are still mortal, for you can still die. Now tell me, what is your reason for calling me here on this fine afternoon?" Loki said, smirking again.
Dr. Doom studied him for a moment, dark eyes calculating. "In short, I wish to make a deal with you."
"Go on," Loki said softly, cautiously, and slowly.
"You must know that your army is nowhere near large enough to attack New York City alone. That is why I offer you my services. I have some... colleagues I will be able to contact that will help. If you are to accept my offer, I can guarantee your success. Would you like to hear more?"
Loki nodded once, emerald eyes narrowed. He leaned back in his chair.
"I thought so," Dr. Doom said as a maleficent smile crossing his face, covered by his metal mask. "Let's continue, shall we?"
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'Maybe I need counseling,'I thought bitterly to myself as I sat at my dining room table, still staring at the photographs spread out in front of me. There were clippings from every newspaper, every magazine, every Internet website I could get.
They all showed the same thing: Loki. I had been collecting these pictures for about two weeks now, organizing them into folders based on the date they were taken.
It had become an obsession of mine, a sick, twisted obsession. I didn't have any reason to keep these pictures; I just did it for the sake of doing something. It seemed as if it was the only thing I could do at the moment.
I haven't had the courage to try my new costume out in public. The coin it was contained in stayed in my pocket at all times. I felt vulnerable without it. At night, I stuck it on my bedside table next to the framed photograph of Loki and I when we were in middle school together.
The phone suddenly rang from behind me, startling me. I jumped in my seat, scattering the pictures that were placed before me. I muttered a Greek curse under my breath as I got up to answer the phone.
I picked up the black, cordless phone off of the base and pressed the talk button.
"Hello?" I said, trying to be polite, but still startled. I never had taken surprises well.
"Ande Hanson? This is Tony Stark," the voice said smoothly on the other line.
I blinked in confusion. Why would Tony Stark be calling me? "Oh, Mr. Stark. Is something wrong?" I said. I anxiously started biting my finger nail, a habit I had had for a long time.
"Yeah, sorry to bother you and whatever, but we need you down at the SHIELD lab for questioning. I'll explain why later. Just get over here," he said, rattling off an address. I grabbed a pen from the holder by the phone and scrawled it down.
"I'll be right there," I said and hung up the phone. This had to be about Loki. I never should have told Tony about him. It's just causing problems. That's all I ever do, cause problem after problem.
I shoved the pictures back into the folder, silently promising myself to reorganize them later. I tossed the folder onto the counter and grabbed my keys and purse. With a second thought, I grabbed the book I was currently in the middle of as well. Who knows how long I'd be at the SHIELD lab?
I dashed out the front door, locking it behind me and hopped into my car. I usually didn't drive during the summer months, preferring to walk and save gas money, but I had to get there quickly.
I backed out of the driveway and began the drive to the designated address. As I drove, my mind spun with all the possible questions they might ask me. I'd have to answer honestly, of course. I was never a good liar to begin with.
I easily found the lab and I pulled in through the tall metal gate that was buzzing with electricity. I gulped. That was never a good omen. I parked and was immediately escorted into the facility by one of the agents. My heart was beating frantically. As a reflex, I started playing with my owl necklace- another habit I had when I was nervous.
SHIELD had been making headlines in the newspaper recently, what with all of the supernatural destruction going on. From what I had heard, it had grown tenfold from what it was two years ago. This lab in Malibu was only one of many now stationed in remaining cities of the United States. They led me through the shining glass doors into a pristine white hallway. The floors gleamed and there wasn't a speck of dirt in sight. It was lit with bright, eye watering florescent lighting which reflected off of the white tiled flooring.
The agent led me down the narrow hallways, passing several rooms where the doors stood agar. I heard the light tapping of fingers on a keyboard and phones ringing from each room. We kept walking.
After what seemed like a maze of turning corners and walking down hallways, he finally stopped. I nearly ran into him, it was so sudden. I composed myself as he inserted a key into the door. It slid open, revealing a large room with grey plastic chair lining the walls and several tables filling the inside.
Mr. Stark stood in the center of the room with another man in a suit. They appeared to be arguing. When they saw me, they both stopped abruptly.
"Ms. Hanson, I assume?" the one man said with a business like tone.
I shakily nodded, wanting nothing more than to run out of the room at
that very moment. It would have been stupid though. There was no way I could have backtracked and not have gotten lost.
"I'm Agent Phil Coulson. Glad you could make it. We just want to ask you a few questions about the conversation you had with Mr. Stark last Tuesday morning. Please, have a seat," he said, gesturing to an empty chair that was standing around one of the tables. We both sat, he across from me. Mr. Stark chose a seat several paces behind us.
"Let's get to the point," Agent Coulson said. "We need you to recount the encounter you had with Loki."
I began to tell them of what happened the previous Monday night. Coulson sat straight-faced, impassive, taking in every detail and occasionally writing down notes. Mr. Stark looked bored and restless, slumped back in his seat and tapping his feet impatiently. I wondered vaguely if he had ADD or something.
"And… um… then he left. That's all," I finished lamely, a sheepish look crossing my face.
There was a pause of silence.
"Well, it appears as if you're telling the truth," Coulson sighed. "I have no reason to doubt you. From what Mr. Stark and his assistant, Ms. Potts have told me, you seem honorable."
"I didn't tell you, I told Fury," Mr. Stark grumbled from behind them. "I thought you were supposed to be in New Mexico…"
Agent Coulson ignored him, instead pulling out a small, golden circle with a purple stone stuck to one end: a ring. It sparkled dimly in the bright industry lighting.
"This is a communication device," he explained, holding it up. "Twist the gem stone, and it will send out a radio signal to the transmitter here at the lab. If Loki tries to contact you again in person, turn it and we'll send a squad over to capture him. Try and do it casually so he doesn't suspect anything." He slid the ring across the table to me. I grabbed it and slid it on. It fit loosely. I hoped it wouldn't fall off.
"Thank you," I said gratefully. I honestly didn't see how the ring could help. Loki could still teleport away as soon as he figured out what was coming, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to wear the ring anyways.
"Contact me if anything else happens," Mr. Stark said. I nodded.
"Thank you for coming in. This information will help. I'll have someone escort you out of the building," Coulson said, maintaining his business-like air. He signaled at the door and it reopened. The same burly agent from before entered the room. I stood up and slung my purse over my shoulder again. I followed the agent out of the room and out of the building, into the dusky night air. I realized I had been there longer than I thought I'd been. The stars were just beginning to appear in the sky, whereas when I had arrived it had been early afternoon.
I arrived home just as the sun finally set. I hopped out of my car and locked it before entering the house. I set my purse down on the kitchen counter and glanced around. A window was open, which was unusual. I never opened my windows if I could help it, being far too paranoid after experiencing the messed up childhood I'd had. I quickly walked over and slid it shut, locking it. Was it possible I had opened it earlier, but forgot? Not likely. I had a pretty good memory.
I had the strangest sense that that wasn't the only thing amiss in my house. I glanced around the rest of the kitchen before realizing what it was.
The manila folder I had been keeping the pictures in was no longer on the counter where I had left it in my rush to get out the door earlier.
I mentally freaked out. For some reason, I had grown rather attached to that series of photographs, further proving my obsession with them. I nearly tore the kitchen apart looking for it. After almost a quarter of an hour filled with frantic and panicked searching, I had to conclude that it was no longer in this house. I wanted to slam my head down on the table for being such an idiot as to leave it out in the open like that.
As soon as I came to that conclusion, a small piece of parchment floated down from the ceiling and landed gently on the counter in front of me. I snatched it up. There were five cursive words written on it in an elegant green ink: This is only the beginning.
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Author's Note: *eye twitch*. I'm not particularly proud of this chapter. I'm pretty sure I butchered it, in fact. Ugh. Sorry. I've been second guessing my ability as an author lately. I love writing, but I'm just not that great at it. Is this story really worth continuing? I'm really enjoying writing it, but if you guys want, I'll toss it. Sorry I'm dumping my personal problems on you.
I would like to mention that spockjasperlokizukowriting has drawn some more awesome and wonderful fan art for this story. The links will be on my profile later today if you want to check them out. They're really good!
Please review! Thank you!
-Loki's Little Helper