It was a few weeks since Loki had tried out the new idea of being a hairstylist, and he was liking it immensely. It was a chance to put his great knowledge to use and impress people. In Asgard it really wasn't proper, but he'd always loved doing people's hair. He did his mother's and Thor's whenever he could get away with it. (His brother's hair styling was pretty miserable without him. He let it grow all stringy and always let it fall into his eyes. And never brushed it enough.) Loki stared off into the distance. He was jealous. Sure his green eyes were beautiful and entrancing, but Thor's were… well, he didn't get all that attention for nothing. And it certainly had nothing to do with his sparkling wit. He imagined Thor on a high balcony on Stark Tower. The sun was going down and the sky was glowing redly.

Thor gazed out over the city lights and sighed. "I miss home, brother," he said.

Loki stepped beside him, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Sometimes I want this to be over," he said quietly. He could not look at Thor's face. Instead he stared out over the tall edges of the skyscrapers, grey in the waning light, windows reflecting the sun's last rays.

"It will be. In time."

Loki turned. Thor was still, gazing out across the land, silent but for the sound of wind. For one moment, Loki saw him as a stranger; he caught his breath, an inexplicable fear filling him. "Yes," he said, the word seeming to die on his tongue, but Thor heard him all the same.

"I have my friends," Thor continued, following the thread of a conversation Loki could no longer remember. "And you."

Loki looked away. "Always," he said.

In the sky, the sun vanished, replaced by whirling nebulae and far-off stars.

"Loki?"

"Yes?"

"You have secret passages between worlds. Can you not take me back to visit for just this one night?"

They were standing close, Thor facing him unheeding, feet scarce inches from the edge.

"I have a passage to somewhere better," Loki said at last.

"Where?"

Loki smiled, and pushed.

Thor fell, wind racing past him, toward the street below.

"Loki!" he called, pleading.

"No." Loki whispered.

His eyes flew open.

"Good dream dear?" asked Matilda.

"No." he said sharply. "A nightmare, actually." He shook himself and exited the staff room.

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