12.

He sees her in the bar.

She's gorgeous, beautiful and very sexy. Her face is like one of a painting by an Old Master, and her body . . . well, the dress leaves very little to the imagination. It was bordering on slutty, but somehow she pulled it off. Maybe it was her confidence; maybe it was just because she was so damn hot.

She's alone, leaning against the bar without a drink in her hand. He smirks, waltzing over.

"What's a gorgeous woman like you doing all alone?" he drawls. She raises a coy eyebrow.

"Who wants to know?" she asks, her voice low and seductive.

His smirk widens as he accepts the unspoken challenge presented before him.

"Just a curious man who would like to buy you a drink. What's your poison?"

She eyes him with a grin, her teeth gently biting down on her bottom lip. She leans forwards and his eyes rake over her generous cleavage.

"Guess," she whispers, his lips brushing against his ear. Her lips are cold and he has to suppress the shiver of excitement that runs down his spine. He eyes her thoughtfully.

"You're far too classy for beer," he says, complimenting her. She raises an eyebrow. "And you certainly don't look like a spirits girl. Wine, perhaps?" He pauses before adding, "Red wine. Something deep and classic, full of flavour."

"Well," she purrs. "You got most of it right."

"What did I get wrong?"

"Why don't I show you?"

With a sly wink, she pushes herself off the bar and brushes past him, her long curls bouncing on her bare shoulders. Her hips sway and every man stares at her as she passes, glancing at him with envy when they see him following. He's getting lucky tonight, he's certain of it.

He follows her eagerly outside, and when she disappears down the alley he grins. She's a naughty little thing.

She doesn't waste any time; she grabs his jacket and pushes him up against the wall, kissing him. Her lips are soft and cold, moving quickly. Their tongues meet and he moans as he feels her chest brush against his. His groping hands find her leg, pulling it up to curl around his waist.

Her lips leave his, trailing against his jaw and finding his neck. He shuts his eyes, raising his other hand to tangle it in her curls.

Her teeth scrape against his throat. He flinches.

"Hey, careful, darling," he says. "I'm not into all that – "

He's cut off by a stabbing pain. He can barely comprehend the warm blood trailing down his neck, spilling out of the large wound she's made. When she pulls away, her lips are covered in blood. His blood.

He stares at her, black spots invading his vision.

"What the fuck?" he whispers, his knees buckling beneath him. He's growing weaker by the second, loosing blood . . . so much blood . . .

"Sorry, darling, it's nothing personal," she says.

And then she lunges.

"You're leaving already?" Anne asked.

"Something has come up," Olivia told her. "Work stuff."

Jason snorted. "And I suppose working with Stark is more important than your own family?"

"Your own family never stopped you from spending days on end at the office," Olivia snapped back. She bit back that she knew her father had been sleeping with his P.A. at the time.

"It is of most importance that we return to New York," Loki intervened, sensing Olivia's anger rising. "We're both very sorry, but we've greatly appreciated your hospitality."

"You're welcome back any time, darling," Anne told him with a smile.

She's drunk, Olivia thought with disgust.

She's been intoxicated since we arrived, love.

I know. She's been intoxicated most of my life.

"I suppose you've already packed your bags?" Jason asked flatly. Olivia glared at him.

"Yep. And there's no need to see us off."

Jason narrowed his eyes at Olivia and she ignored him, throwing her hair over her shoulder as she looked up at Loki.

"I think it's time we left, don't you?"

Loki thanked Anne and Jason for their hospitality once more as Olivia stormed out of the room. By the time Loki was outside, she was already in the car, her fingers drumming against the steering wheel.

"You seem eager to leave," he commented.

"The sooner we get away from here the better," she muttered darkly.

She turned on the radio and ignored Loki's attempts at a conversation, both verbal and mental. Frowning, Loki delved deeper into her mind.

The steering wheel jerked beneath Olivia's hands as a memory she'd blocked came to the surface, and she barely regained control as she quickly pulled over. Breathing heavily, she glared at Loki.

"Don't you ever do that again."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's not something you just slip into conversation, is it?" Olivia put on a bright, cheery tone. "Hi Loki, how was your day? Oh, by the way, my dad used to beat me up when I was a kid."

Loki reached for Olivia's hand, but she quickly snatched it away.

"Did you not tell anyone?" he asked.

"Who could I tell? Mom was drunk most of the time. Christopher was studying. Harriet and Molly were busy with boys, so who the hell was going to listen to me?"

Loki frowned as he carefully studied Olivia's profile.

In the time he'd known her, Loki had never seen Olivia look so vulnerable.

For the second time, he reached for her hand. She let him take it, even weaving her fingers through his.

Tears filled her eyes. She used her free hand to wipe them away.

"I did tell someone," she said, determinedly staring ahead of her. "I told a reporter . . . Dad found out and told them it was a pack of lies, that I was a deluded attention seeker. He threatened to sue them if they printed the article and threw me out of the house."

Loki felt disgusted; no Asgardian would abuse their child.

"I told my Mom, before I left, but she isn't strong. She depends on Dad. So I just . . . cut my losses and moved to New York."

Olivia gave him a shaky smile, a few tears spilling over and rolling down her cheeks. Loki brushed them away.

"You are a truly brave woman," he murmured, running his fingers through her hair.

Her cheeks turning pink, Olivia ducked her head.

She certainly didn't feel brave. She was scared to death by the visions and working with the Avengers and facing up to her parents . . .

"Loki."

"Yes, love?"

"Promise me something."

"What?"

"Please don't go ape-shit crazy on my Dad," Olivia pleaded, looking at him with her wide blue eyes. "I hate him, but I don't want him to die."

Loki looked at her for a long time, silent. The fact that Jason - a poor excuse of a man - hit his youngest daughter made Loki feel angry and sick, but he didn't want to hurt Olivia any more than she had been. As much as he despised the man, it wouldn't be fair on her.

"I promise," he finally said. Olivia grinned at him.

"Great," she said, kissing him. "Now, lets go home."

Thank you IvyLinkin, AvengersGirl-LokisSpy, Smileychameleon, SETO-KABIA-LIFE and VioletK for reviewing!