chapter 10

~ kiss me deadly ~

Ruby was hardly pleased. This arraignment was leaving her in sorts. She had ducked from the gallery with Loki to the 'boutique.' It was a ploy for air and a minute to think. He was debonair and devious, and when she was around him she couldn't see straight. There was too much banter and tension, mostly sexual to boot. She'd actually camped on a park bench in a daze. When she'd realized the hour she scurried away noting that she was sulking, a temperament that didn't look good on anyone. Forcing a bounce in her step she contended that the only play she could make was her own. After catching a cab and running into Detective Coulson, he put another damper on the mood. She welcomed the solitude of her hotel room per his orders. At least there she could clear her head and find her focus, two things that had fogged all up in Loki's presence.

As she reached her room she slid the key in the door and after a faint click she was able to turn the knob. She drew in a deep breath as she walked in. It was dimly lit as the blinds were drawn; no doubt housekeeping had made their rounds. She shut the door and crossed the room, wanting desperately to kick off her heels, but wanting a flood of sunlight more. She threw open the heavy fabric shades and with a sigh she turned around only to find Loki leaning casually against the far wall. She sheltered a startled yelp, realizing it was him before it could escape her parted lips. Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest she about doubled over, but after smoothing some hair from her face she held her cool.

"What are you doing in here?" she gasped with a shaky voice still startled by his sudden appearance.

"I'm a thief remember," he smiled with an innocent shrug, "Picking a lock is scarcely difficult."

"That's hardly a reason," she countered, still struggling to figure out what he was doing in her hotel room.

"True. You got a package..." he simply stated as he nudged a brown box on the nearby dresser, "Thought I'd make the delivery."

"And then make yourself at home?" she scoffed as she moved to give the label a glance.

It was from the Observatory Museum, no doubt returning the duplicate dagger and the rest of her fee. It made her a bit chipper that she had concluded that business, now if only she could get out of this mess. An hour later and Detective Coulson would have imposed on an empty room and the package would have been forwarded to the next stop in the line. It was wistful and dangerous looking back, wishing how things could have been. It distracted from the here and now.

"Can I ask you a question?" Loki suddenly pressed, but she failed to offer protest so he continued, "What would you say if I told you I was an architect of destruction?"

"Yours or mine?" she immediately replied, though it was looking like hers all the way.

He suddenly grinned and she could tell he took some strange pleasure in her answer. He stared at the dresser as he seemed to be thinking. His eyes passed over her train ticket, still sitting out, even after Detective Coulson's impromptu visit. Her sudden penchant for gentleman callers was really rather appalling. Many more and people might draw the wrong idea.

"Planning your getaway?" he casually asked, though she was put off by the prying.

"I was always bound to leave and that was a fact long before I ran into you. Besides I don't belong in your city..."

"I don't know I think my city looks better with you in it."

She was about to request an explanation, slipping into her room on the sly and exchanging a strange bit of conversation, but he moved closer.

"So how would you do it?" he asked as he rounded her and she could have sworn he took in a faint whiff of her rose shampoo.

"How would I do it?" she repeated as her perfectly lacquered red nails slid across the package on the dresser, pushing it further out of view, "I would have already done it."

"Really?" he cooed as his head moved over her shoulder, "Do tell."

"I would have gone for it when it was deposited at the museum and held in the storage room. Security was normal, but things were hectic preparing for the centennial, a cut to the power and then maybe two night guards to contend with. Now the centennial is here, preparations are in place, security is tightened. With all eyes are on it, it won't be worth the trouble."

"Well then, let me amend," he said with a grin, "How would you do it now?"

"And why would that matter?" she casually stated with a cool drawl, "You're the mastermind remember? I'm just along for the ride. I thought you already had everything planned..."

"Everything planned but you," he whispered against her lips as he turned her around.

Before she could respond he drew her into a passionate kiss. He'd sucked the breath right out of her, leaving her a pent-up mess of fluttering nerves. She tried to bounce back, but under his intense stare she knew she'd already fallen to pieces. Without missing a beat she decided to press forward ignoring what had just transpired.

"Well sometimes you've got to improvise," she commented with a smile, though her voice came out more ragged than she'd intended, "What's the matter? Not good on your toes?"

"Oh, I'd love to show you everything I'm good at," he murmured.

As she stared into Loki's green eyes she realized the entire sting had just been compromised. She was attracted to her target. He was a bad target too. He'd lead her to trouble and heartbreak, and not necessarily in that order.

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Officer Steve Rogers had gone to the file room, slightly dismayed to find himself back in his cramped little space, a no-man's land punishment for his overeager dig into the shady dealings of one Tony Stark. It wasn't ideal, but it was necessary. Since he hadn't gotten the okay to pull info on their prime suspect he was tracking down old cases. They had box after box on Spectre, a trail of jobs all packed into storage, deemed cold, but not forgotten. Even before he went looking he knew something was off. They had drummed up a solid lead, yet they were the only ones on the trail.

"There you are. I've been looking all over, what are you doing back in here?"

Steve glanced up. Detective Coulson stood against the open door with a funny sort of smile on his face like he had a secret and was debating sharing. He'd been so wrapped up in studying the files that he hadn't heard anyone come in. No, that was a lie. A familiar face was haunting him and no amount of work could distract him. Why did old memories always pick the damndest time to flutter on by?

"I thought I'd make myself useful and go over the old Spectre cases, get a tally going of all the crimes he's going down for."

Detective Coulson nodded as he inched in and eyed the piles of boxes, "I've got good news. Ruby says it's him. Loki Laufeyson is Spectre. Finally have a flesh and blood body to connect to the ghost."

"I guess that explains it..." Steve suddenly mused as he put down a stack of paperwork.

He didn't need to go through anymore to pick up on the overwhelmingly obvious pattern. It was bad news all around and he hated to be the bearer.

"Explains what?" Detective Coulson finally inquired.

"Why we have nothing to charge Spectre with."

"Come again?"

"He's wealthy and connected enough. All the museums withdrew their claims. No complainant, no theft..."

"No..." Detective Coulson lamented as he took one of the case forms, "All of them?"

"Haven't been through them all, but I'm far enough in that it wouldn't surprise me."

"Dang nabbit!" Detective Coulson exclaimed as he started to pace around the tiny room, "That means this one is probably going to go down in the same way. Unless..."

"Unless what?" Steve prodded when he trailed off.

"Unless we catch Spectre in the act, red-handed and no amount of clout can get him out," Detective Coulson smiled, as Steve's damper had apparently been lifted.