Bay 22X- Helicarrier 63

Jane knows that aliens exist. She's seen the irrefutable proof, (hell, she's kissed the proof), along with every other person on the planet with access to a TV. Nevertheless, since Loki's invasion, aliens had been a hot topic in the media, an ongoing debate in religious communities, and for skeptics, a truth that came as a punch in the gut for an arrogant humanity who falsely assumed themselves the sole masters of the universe. As a scientist, the reality of life outside of earth made Jane's work relevant again. It gave her hope for a better future.

But to see this creature. Aside from the quiet beeping of the regulatory systems, she is alone in the massive room, perched safely on the metal observational platform across from the glass prison cylinder, the same design, she is told, that successfully held Loki and the Hulk. She has a death grip on the steel cable railing, its yellow paint chipped and battered. It gives testament to the combat seen in the room, but fails to give her a sense of security. Jane can almost feel a chill seep into her bones as she regards the alien. It's so unlike Thor, so unlike the army brought by Loki. It's an affirmation of how insignificant—and terrifyingly small—she is in the cosmos.

"Observations, Dr. Foster?" Fury asks, his expression a mask. Jane flinches at his silent approach. The director stands next to her.

"It's..." what should she say? "big...and very blue."

Fury raises an eyebrow. Despite giving an answer a preschooler could have summoned, Jane finds herself completely numb. Her head pounds. Her stomach is in knots. Somehow—impossibly—she has gotten herself involved with "unregulated communities" once again. Like a shit-storm magnet. It would be comical if she could summon the will to laugh.

Instead, she clears her throat. "Do we know what—"

"It's a Frost Giant," Fury interrupts, hands behind his back. He regards the captive nine-foot alien in the circular prison pod with an iron solemnity that Jane wishes she possessed.

"I've never heard of them," Jane admits.

"That surprises me." His accusal tone grates on her, but he continues before she can think further on it. "These Frost Giants have an involved history with Thor's people, or so our limited intel says."

At the mere mention of the Aesir prince's name, Jane frowns. Could it be? Somehow Thor could be related to this mess?

"I'm probably the wrong person to talk to," she informs the director, bitterness seeping into her voice, "as regrettably, being a Norse god is not one my qualifications."

Fury ignores her sarcasm. His attention is still locked on the alien, now lying in a puddle of water. Distinctively humanoid, it looks up at them and growls, then sinks back onto the floor. In human terms, Jane would call it miserable, but even through the thick, transparent thermoplastic, the Frost Giant looks deadly. The damage it caused to Stark's suit is further proof of its fighting potential despite having no visible body armor.

"We have to keep the temperature significantly raised to subdue it," Fury says thoughtfully, "but I'm not sure how long that will last."

Before it adapts and breaks out, Jane hears as his unspoken conclusion.

"Let's go," the SHIELD director orders, motioning for her to follow him. He doesn't need to persuade her. Jane is eager to leave the alien's presence.

"How did this happen?" he asks once they are in the hall. "We have an alien here, but no ship, bridge or tesseract. How did it travel?"

The answers have been formulating in the physicist's mind for hours now. She tries to keep up with the SHIELD director's long stride.

"I hypothesize that there are weaknesses in the space around Earth since the tesseract was used to rip an unnatural connection from us to Loki's army," she tells him. "This Frost Giant has used this weakness and exploited it. Found a hidden path through the forest, if you will." She swallows. "These events are accompanied by a rapid decrease in temperature."

Fury continues onto the bridge and looks out through the massive window, contemplative. The rest of the bridge crew ignores his presence, but Jane doesn't doubt that every ear is focused on their conversation. A torrential downpour pelts the helicarrier, but the only indication of the storm within the helicarrier is the streams of rain running soundlessly down the thick windows. It strikes Jane wrong, seeing something and unable to connect the anticipated sound to the visual.

"This isn't a singular event, Dr. Foster, as you well know," Fury says solemnly. "We have no reason to believe that there is only one Frost Giant here. As you said, we have proof of many of these events. Now we know why."

This affirmation of Jane's suspicions (nightmares?) makes her stomach churn even more. The precious normalcy that she so desperately sought is ripping away, moment by moment. Another alien force mounting on her world? Jane has to resist placing a steadying hand against the wall. She wants to appear steadfast, even if it is in utter contrast with her semi-disheveled appearance.

"What I need to know, Dr. Foster," Fury says quietly, "is the temperature shift as result of this supposed connection between us and them, or is it from the Frost Giant's presence?"

She answers honestly. "I don't know. We can safely assume their world is far colder than ours and yet, based on the damage to Tony's suit, they command an ability over molecular states on this planet as well, making Earth a suitable alternative to...wherever they are from."

"Exactly why it's up to SHIELD to contain this invasion."

"Shouldn't people know?"

"Dr. Foster, we simply cannot go public with this knowledge. The world is already reeling from the impact of the battle of Manhattan. The last thing people need to know is that there is a yet another connection point from our world to…somewhere else."

Jane crosses her arms and glares at Fury. "SHIELD has no right to play God with human lives. People have a right to know, especially if there are more of these Frost Giants out there."

Fury looks hard at her. "People have a right to know what they can do something about, otherwise it makes them feel powerless. I can think of nothing crueler."

The physicist concedes to that logic, even if doesn't sit well with her principles.

Suddenly, the lights flicker.

Fury touches a panel. "Commander, tell me we have power." Jane realizes his concern. Without control of the temperature systems, their only way to subdue the captured Frost Giant is gone.

"Systems operational," Maria reports. "In fact, our fuel cells are showing 133% power."

"How is that possible?"

"We were hit by lightning—" She pauses and taps an alert on her screen. "There's a report that starboard side cargo bay door 21Z has been forcibly opened." She's about to say something more, but Jane is already in motion. She exits the bridge and runs down the helicarrier halls, going by memory. Right, left, no, right here... Her heart beating wildly, the physicist finds herself at the entrance of the cargo bay. Despite everything, she's unable to will her limbs to move. The doors shutter open.

A group of SHIELD agents are circled, their clothes splattered with rain. Despite their disgruntled appearance, every weapon's muzzle is lowered peaceably toward the floor.

Dripping wet, the prince of Asgard turns and his gaze finds at her. He brushes past the agents. The burgundy cape clings to his muscular shoulders and sweeps across the floor as he approaches. Lacking the splendor normally associated with a grand entrance, he looks tired, aged. In a word— human. The physicist holds her breath. Is the room spinning, or is it just her?

"How I've missed you, Jane Foster," Thor says, reaching for her cheek, and in a moment, righting her axis. His warm fingers run along her skin, caressing and wonderfully real.

He kisses her.