A month to the day, and I'm back! Things are going fairly smoothly over here…no job, but since I'm working like a maniac on my thesis, it's almost a relief not to be working. So I spend most of my time doing homework, job searching, and binge-watching various TV shows. So…it's basically high school all over again, minus the sleepovers (more's the pity). I hope this chapter makes up for some of the wait you've had to endure.

Please leave your comments and words of encouragement. They've done so much to keep my spirits up over the past month, I can't even begin to tell you.

()()()()()

Jane laughed. It came bubbling up from her throat like champagne, light and golden and fizzling, and she couldn't stop it, even though she clapped both hands over her mouth to bottle it up. The thing that made it even harder for her poor, drunk self to suppress the sound was the fact that Loki, for the very first time, was retreating from her. He had taken a few small steps backwards, and the expression on his face was absolutely priceless; a mixture of confusion, bewilderment, and even a dash of fear. That tiny sliver of fear that suggested she knew more than he.

Which, of course, she did. Her hands dropped from her mouth, and she took a shaky couple of breaths.

"Bullshit," she declared, shaking her head, smile still playing at the corner of her mouth, "bullshit," she repeated, finger poking at the lapel of his suit jacket.

"Oh?"

It was a less eloquent comeback than she was used to, but then again, they were both a bit drunk and she had probably taken some of the wind out of his sails. She couldn't ever remember swearing at him before.

"Yeah," she said, "you're full of it. You say it doesn't matter, but what did you say to me just this morning? You said you wanted me to know you. That means that what I say and what I think sure as hell matters to you. So I'm calling bullshit on everything you just said…because I know why you said it."

He was regaining some of his poise now, and with his composure, the danger returned. One step was enough to close the distance between them again, and the foot of difference between their heights meant that when he wanted to loom, he could do it quite well. But this time, Jane did not flinch.

"Well, Miss Foster?" Loki's voice had dropped into that danger zone again; it was dark, controlled, and smooth. Like the cold wind it tickled at Jane's skin and gave her goose bumps. "Dazzle me with your intellect as you so love to do. But I warn you against saying anything you might regret."

"I regret a lot of the things I've said to you," Jane shot back, glaring at him from where she stood trapped between his body and the railing, "but this won't be one of them. I'll tell you why you said it. You," and she smiled again, crossing her arms, "are afraid."

This time he was the one who laughed. But Jane—considering herself a bit of a connoisseur when it came to Loki's laughter—could detect a shade of breathless hysteria lurking behind the sound. He backed off a few steps, again; also a definite sign of fear. But still, he defended himself.

"Oh, Miss Foster," he drawled, shaking his head, "I believe I will keep you from the bottle in future. Truly, if you were not so amusing I would be tempted to punish you in a manner befitting my most insolent subjects. So I repeat my warning—"

"You'd beat me to stop me saying it because you know it's true," Jane interrupted…which in itself was another first. "You're getting close to me…you're showing your humanity—or whatever you want to call it—and it's scary. Because the more you tell me, the more you let me in…the more vulnerable you are. And so you lash out."

He made as if to break in and cut off the flow of her words, but Jane—who babbled when she was nervous or drunk, and therefore babbled twice as fast when she was both—steamrolled right over him.

"But I want you to know, Loki," she stepped forward and watched as he struggled not to retreat again, "that I won't do it."

"Won't do what?" he could not look at her. His throat moved with a harsh spasm as he swallowed.

Jane's hands moved almost without her direction. One went to his lapel and rested against his chest where she could feel his heart beat. The other took one of his cold hands in hers. The texture of his palm was starting to feel almost as familiar to Jane as her own. She knew the stories behind those calluses, worn by knives and magic, over centuries of skirmishes and war.

She shivered. The movement echoed through him as well, and he looked at her. When their eyes connected, she said, "I won't hurt you."

Each word was as solemn as a promise. For a long moment, they were silent, connected by Jane's hands and their eyes. He was still, preternaturally still, and his face was empty. Jane's heart had slowed and she heard it pounding, beat by beat, through the blood surging in her ears.

"You have already told me," he spoke slowly, almost grinding out the words, "that you—and your race—will resist me with everything you have. And I am supposed to believe that you will not hurt me?" He laughed, but the sound was bitter, "Whence comes this newfound charity?"

"Oh, don't get me wrong," Jane patted his chest, "I still want you off my planet. But I can want you gone without wanting to hurt you, right?" Even in her booze-addled head, she knew she wasn't really making sense. But it was as close to sense as she could come.

She wanted him gone…but she didn't want him dead. Not anymore.

"When did that happen?" she muttered to herself.

"When did what happen?"

She looked up. "I don't want you dead," she said, brow furrowed, "A few weeks ago," she dropped his hand and backed off, wrapping her arms around herself and shivering, "I would have given anything to have someone kill you. You were—are—were heartless and cold," she trailed off, shaking her head.

"And now?"

"And now I don't want you dead," she whispered, still half speaking to herself. She wasn't playing anymore…wasn't pandering to his vanity with these words. They were Jane's honest truth. But just when had they become the truth? That was the question. Panic knifed at her heart, and she breathed faster, harder. Was she softening? When the crucial moment came, would this newfound sympathy get in the way of her doing what had to be done?

This time, when Loki put his hands on her, she did flinch. But with one hand on her shoulder and the other at her waist, he left nowhere for her to run.

"Jane," he said, softly, wonderingly, "Jane."

She wanted to put her hands against her ears to stop the sound of her name from his lips, but when she raised her hands he caught her wrists and held them down. He was closer than ever, and Jane had to fight her instinct to lean into his warmth.

His breath ghosted over her forehead as he bent to kiss her there, cheek pressed into her hair. He was warm, soft, and smelled delicious…through the haze of comfortable sensations his nearness brought, alarm bells started ringing violently in Jane's head. For the first time she was actually glad that he was touching her, and nothing good—her still functioning brain cells reminded her—could come from that.

But where could she go? Nowhere.

Well, not strictly true.

Jane lunged forward and wrapped both hands around his middle, trapping him in a solid hug. His entire body stiffened in the circle of her arms and she heard his sharp intake of breath, but he did not jerk back or try to escape. And after a very long moment, his hands settled on her back and pressed her even closer. He kissed the top of her head and then rested there.

She hardly knew she was saying the words aloud, but they came regardless.

"You're such a little boy," she murmured, feeling tension gather in his frame, "a little boy…lost."

When he tore himself away from her, she staggered forward, arms outstretched as though to stop him. But the look of stark terror on his face—suppressed so quickly under a grimace of anger—stopped her. Jane could only stare as he turned, hands clenched and shoulders tight, and stormed into the house, the doors slamming behind him with almost enough force to shatter the delicate glass squares.

Alone on the veranda, Jane sank to her knees and wondered what the hell she had just done.

()()()()()

When dawn started to creep over the horizon, she finally stood, shaking out her cramped legs and dusting off her dress. Despite the hours gone by, Jane was still trembling, both physically and mentally. Whatever she had done had once again shifted the balance between the two of them, and once again, she had no idea what would come next. How would Loki react when they had to see each other again?

"When he has to see me three hours from now," Jane murmured, slowly making her way up the stairs, grasping the railing tight for the sake of her spinning head. Today was a contact day, and Loki never missed a chance to infuriate his older brother by having taken his favorite toy.

Usually the thought of speaking with Thor filled Jane with happiness, even considering the downside of having to endure Loki's taunts. But today, all she wanted to do was wrap herself up in blankets and drown the memory of last night with hours of sleep. Jane crept down the hallway to her bedroom and started painstakingly getting ready for the new day.

Her hands shook as she took the emerald pins from her hair and had difficulty finding the hidden zipper on her dress. Already her head was tightening with the premonition of a monster hangover, and she grabbed the ever-present bottle of water from her nightstand and slowly drank half of it down. There was a bottle of painkiller in the nightstand drawer, and she took three.

"Oh, that was not smart, Jane," she sighed, getting wearily to her feet, "Nothing about what you did was smart. What were you thinking?"

Still muttering to and scolding herself, she slowly got dressed in jeans and a tunic blouse. Thankfully, Loki had seen fit to provide her with clothes that weren't all befitting a state dinner, so even though the labels and materials were far more expensive than what Jane was used to, she still felt comfortable in the clothes. Last, she brushed out her hair and teeth and still had an hour to collapse into bed before Lucia shook her awake at 7:45.

"Miss Foster?"

Jane grumbled and turned over. "Is it time already?" she swung her legs over the side of the bed and felt her stomach slosh uncertainly. "I hope he doesn't expect me to have breakfast with him this morning, because I think that eating anything would be a little dangerous right now…"

"Lord Loki has sent me to supervise your conversation this morning."

She blinked. "What?"

"Lord Loki will not be joining you this morning. He requested that I be present for your conversation instead."

The words were still not making a shred of sense. "You mean…" she swallowed, and tried again, "he's not coming?"

"No, Miss Foster," Lucia spoke quietly, but beneath her calm veneer, Jane could sense her assistant's puzzlement. But Jane could no more explain her feelings to Lucia than she could to herself. She was curiously numb, as though some part of her she depended on had been cut off.

Then she shook her head. "Ridiculous," she scoffed, "he really is a scared little boy."

Now Lucia showed her surprise. "There are rumors about what exactly happened last night, but I can tell that they all pale in comparison with the truth. But it's true that you didn't return to your rooms until after dawn?"

Jane groaned. "I will tell you everything," she promised, "but first, be honest with me. Will it be safe for me to talk in front of you?"

The bemused humor faded from Lucia's face. She shook her head. "I have been bound to tell my Lord the exact details of your conversation. The phone must stay on speaker the entire time. I am sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Jane smiled, "that's why I asked. Do you think Erik could come in, though? He hasn't been able to hear any news of the outside world, and it may do him some good. He and Thor were pretty close, too."

Lucia considered. "Well," she hesitated, "my Lord did not specify that Dr. Selvig couldn't be present," she smiled, "shall I bring him?"

"Find out if he's interested," Jane stood, stretching and reaching for her water again. Lucia nodded and left the room. Jane shuffled across to her table and took a seat, her head pounding sluggishly with every movement. She probably wouldn't get a full-blown hangover, but today was not going to be very fun, regardless.

After a few minutes, Lucia and Erik entered the room, Erik looking a little confused and very much just out of bed. He sat across from Jane at the table.

"I thought I wasn't allowed to attend these little chats," he said, looking between Jane and Lucia as though one of them might have an explanation for him. But Jane could only sigh.

"I guess when the cat's away…"

"And where's he gone to? That's what worries me."

"He did not leave an explanation for any of us," Lucia replied, "There was just a note left for me this morning, along with the mobile phone, telling me what needed to be done. None of the house staff knows where he is."

Jane shivered. This couldn't possibly be a result of what she'd said. This had to be a new scheme, or plot, or something…but then, why wouldn't he tell anyone about it? Lucia—and every other staff member—usually received detailed instructions from him every day. And now he'd just disappeared, with only a few notes in his wake?

The phone rang.

"Yes?" Lucia answered. To what was clearly Thor's confusion as much as anyone else's, she explained, "I am a delegate of Lord Loki, sent to oversee Miss Foster's conversation. I would warn you not to share any information with her that could damage your cause, as I am bound to report in exact detail what has been said. Is this understood?"

She nodded. "Very well then. Here is Miss Foster," and she switched the phone to speaker and put it on the table.

"Good morning, Jane."

"Good morning," she replied, "Erik is here too."

"Dr. Selvig!" Thor exclaimed, honest joy flooding his voice, "Jane has told me of your release and recovery. Are you well?"

"I'm getting there," Erik replied, "still shaking out some of the cobwebs. But by the time this is over, I think I'll be able to have you buy me a drink."

"And this I will do with great satisfaction, Erik Selvig," Thor laughed heartily, "for this gives me yet another reason to work for a swift resolution to this situation. And Jane," some of the hilarity bled from his tone and he spoke with more depth and sincerity. Jane thought of that tone as hers…it was different from the way he spoke to anyone else. "You are also well?"

"I'm a little bit hungover this morning," she confessed, laughing, "but yes, I'm all right. I got to go out into the city a little bit yesterday. Rome is beautiful."

"He lets you leave the grounds and yet does not allow us to speak privately?" Thor grumbled, "I would that my brother's generosity stretched further than it does. But I am glad that your days have not been spent in prison. What have you seen?"

Though Jane longed to tell him of the mutants, she knew that Lucia would not stick her neck out that far. So instead, she gave him a light description of the Tiber and the Trastevere neighborhood around the Villa, telling him about the different shops and types of food, and the sheer variety of people she had come across. Careful against enraging him, she skipped all mention of her necklace or the way people responded to meeting one of Loki's protected ones. Erik helped the conversation along with a few helpful questions, and altogether the allotted five minutes—though Lucia allowed it to stretch to ten—went by too quickly…as usual.

When Lucia hung up silence descended over the table, heavy and stifling as a shroud. The remnants of alcohol in Jane's system unbalanced her and there were tears licking at the corners of her eyes. She sniffled.

"Would you mind?" she said, "I need to get some sleep."

Erik pressed her hand with his, then stood and left the room. Lucia hesitated for a moment as she turned to go.

"Do you want to talk about it, Jane?"

Jane looked at her. And how much would end up getting back to him, if I talked to you? I can't trust you…I can't trust myself, right now. She managed a smile and shook her head.

"I just need to get some sleep, first," she said, "maybe later this afternoon."

"Is there a particular time you'd like me to wake you?"

"No. And if you could just make sure that I'm not disturbed today. When I need anything, I'll let you know. Promise." The tiniest germ of a plan had taken root in Jane's mind, and she needed privacy to develop it. It would also be safer if no one saw her leave the Villa that afternoon.

"Very well," Lucia said, and shut the door.

Jane rested her head against the table, the cool glass surface sucking some of the feverish heat from her forehead. Before anything—before schemes and plans and plots—she had to get some sleep. She set the alarm for early afternoon, and dove beneath the blankets, asleep the moment she hit the pillow.

()()()()()

When she woke, it was before the alarm went off, so she spent the few minutes slowly wiggling her fingers and toes, letting the seedling plan grow and mature. It could work. And…since she'd probably frightened Loki enough to make him steer clear of her for the next few days, it was probably the best chance she'd have of getting any answers in time for Tuesday.

When she thought of the previous night, and of Loki, she felt shame spreading hot across her cheeks. She had softened. Somehow, all her resolutions had gotten twisted around in her head. Last night had been the perfect chance to get some information out of him. He had been relaxed…happy. She had gotten him off guard, and then…

Totally wasted the chance. Somehow, it had become more about him—helping him, or redeeming him, or some other sentimental crap—than achieving her goal. Jane ground her teeth. It had been a mistake, and she would have to avoid making those in the future. Especially the immediate future. Her plan could work, but she would have to scrub her emotions and show no hesitation, or fear, or sympathy.

She sat up and turned off the alarm. Okay. Step by step.

It took less than an hour to get ready. She showered—no luxurious bath today—found a black duffel in the back of her closet, and quickly packed it with a few choice items. She double-checked her guidebook and memorized all necessary sections of the Vatican, and stuffed the map the mutants had given her into her pocket.

The way through the garden was clear—Erik was taking his afternoon nap and Lucia was busy downstairs in the map room—so Jane was able to make her way out of the Villa almost unobserved. She nodded to the footman at the gate, swinging the bag casually in one hand, trying to act as though she were only walking out for a picnic at one of the many parks in the area. It wasn't until she was out of sight that she broke into a light jog, heading north towards Vatican City.

Her stomach gave out faster than her feet. The light meal that she'd had the night before was long gone, and she had to stop at a café for a roll filled with sweet cream. The shopkeeper would not let her pay—bowing and smiling nervously—and stuffed three rolls in her bag, waving off her protests. Jane felt her face burning as she accepted his fearful generosity, and she fled back to the river to eat in peace.

As she left the shop, she nearly jumped out of her skin as a rough voice growled behind her, "Didn't think you had it in you, kid."

Jane whirled around, finding the source of the voice at last, leaning up against an alley wall, half hidden in shadow. She recognized the unruly hair, long sideburns, and leather jacket, but had no idea whether to feel fear or relief.

"Wolverine?"

He grunted. "If you're gonna accept stuff for free, you might as well share."

Jane looked down at the bag in her hands and felt surreal. She had talked with gods and looked into other galaxies, but it was still a strange feeling to share her breakfast with a mutant. But she handed him two of the sweet rolls and saved one for herself. They ate in silence, Wolverine clearly not in the mood to explain himself, and Jane not knowing what words to say.

Finally, she cleared her throat and said, "What are you doing here?"

"Figured you could use some backup. Doesn't seem fair that we just tossed you out here to get captured or worse. And especially since Magneto's rooting for you to fail, I wanna make sure you shove it in his face."

She smiled. He might be rough around the edges, but he had the same devil-may-care self-assuredness that Tony Stark did, and that made her feel much safer. It would be nice to have someone in her corner, especially since the most dangerous part of her plan would happen right at the gates. If things went wrong there, it would be nice to have someone come running to the rescue.

"Well, thanks," she said, "and I'll do my best to do that."

"So what's the plan?"

Jane led the way back to the river and they strolled side by side, an odd couple taking a mid afternoon walk along the deserted path. The rest of the population was either working or napping.

"The plan is prisoner inspection," she said, "because I figure, if I show up at the door and ask to see the prisoners—on order from Lord Loki, of course—one of two things is going to happen. One, they'll attack me because they know that no prisoners are being held there, or two, they'll take me to see them, and I'll be able to find out if Alessio's sister is one of them."

"That's unless they demand to see your orders and attack you anyway for not having any."

"I've got better than orders," Jane tugged down her collar so that Wolverine could see the rune pendant around her neck. "Members of his inner circle wear this, and the Skrull know it. But," she went on, "they won't know who I am. There are no Skrull guards around the Villa or the Palazzo Chigi, so I'm hoping that none of them know what I look like. I'll borrow Lucia's name—his assistant—and pretend to be on his orders to find an empathic mutant."

Her companion whistled long and low. "That plan takes some serious guts, kid. You think you can pull it off? If you get inside, you won't have anyone to help you if you can't handle it."

"I have to," she said quietly, "there's no one else to do it. And if I get inside, most of the danger will be over. They'll have bought my story, right?"

"With humans, I could say yeah, probably," he replied, "but these are aliens. I've got no idea how they think. What happens if they do catch on?"

"If they recognize me, they'll know that Loki doesn't want me harmed," Jane spoke to reassure both of them, feeling her heart pound with panic, "they'd probably just take me back to the Villa and let him deal with me."

"And how would he do that?"

She swallowed. "No idea. I—I don't really want to think about it."

It would hurt him, and I promised I wouldn't hurt him. She bit her tongue, hard. All's fair in war, Jane, you know that. Toughen up.

"Well, it's probably the stupidest plan I could imagine an astrophysicist coming up with," Wolverine said, laughing roughly, "but if you pull it off…it's gonna make one hell of a story."

Jane was too nervous to return the laughter, but she managed, "I promise to give you all the details so you can make Magneto squirm."

He thumped her on the back, and together they turned west, heading towards the great dome of Saint Peter's rising into the sky.

()()()()()

Still out of sight of the gate, Jane opened her duffel and quickly changed clothes. The black sheath dress had a scoop neck, allowing Loki's silver pendant to show, glittering between her collarbones. She stepped into the heels and tightened the ankle straps, hoping that they would hold if she needed to run. Her shoulder bag was big enough to accommodate a clipboard, onto which she had scribbled Alessio's name and his sister's—thankfully provided by Wolverine.

She had also managed a decent forgery of Loki's signature—not a difficult feat, considering he used the runes for it and not English lettering—and hoped that these would suffice as a pass of sorts, if anyone asked.

A few quick swipes of makeup later, and she looked—hopefully—like a well-paid professional on her way to do an errand for her boss.

Now, if only she could stop her hands from shaking…

Wolverine returned. "The gate's guarded by seven of 'em," he said, unsheathing his claws, "but there's a spot on the left that's pretty blind. That's where I'll be. If you need me."

"Thanks," she said, smoothing her dress and hair one last time, "but I hope I won't. How do I look?"

"Like you could sell your story," he said, "if they're buying."

"It all comes down to that, doesn't it?" she smiled nervously and wiped the sweat off her palms. She breathed deeply once, then again. "Okay," the word left her in a rush, "let's do this."

Jane walked down the long road towards the gate, not wavering or hesitating at all. Her shoulders were tight and high, her eyes fixed on the Skrull ahead, and her face composed. Inside, her heart felt as though it would burst from her chest and she was biting her inner lip so hard that it was about to bleed. Everything—her life, the lives of the prisoners, and the truce itself—depended on her maintaining composure.

So she would.

The Skrull chattered and straightened as she approached, warning her off with harsh grunts and gestures from their rifles. She held up one hand as she got within speaking distance.

"I have come on the orders of Lord Loki to examine the prisoners," she called, thanking whatever god watching over her that her voice was strong and sure, "He has sent me to find an empathic girl—Angela Capello—whom he believes will be of use to him."

The cluster of aliens grumbled among themselves until one, larger than the others and wearing a heavy collar with a blue stone, shoved his way to the front. This Skrull gestured her forward while the rest of them spread in defensive formation, taking aim at her with their rifles.

Jane clamped down on her lip and walked forward, praying that Wolverine wouldn't jump the gun and attack. She got within ten feet when he held up one hand. Jane stopped.

The Skrull—ten feet tall and muscled like a linebacker—stepped forward, each heavy footfall sending echoes up into the buildings beside them. Jane felt every single muscle in her body tighten and her instincts screamed for flight, but she bit her lip and clenched her fists and stood her ground.

One clawed, four-fingered hand reached towards her neck, and Jane flinched but to no avail; the creature was too fast. The Skrull caught the leather cord of her pendant in a surprisingly delicate grip, and examined the rune closely. After a few moments—during which her heart didn't dare beat—it grunted.

Looking back over its shoulder, the Skrull captain (she assumed) barked some harsh orders to its subordinates. The gates started to open, and two smaller aliens came to Jane's side, flanking her as they moved forward into Vatican City. Jane felt a frisson of magical power touch her skin as they passed underneath the archway, and her pendant burned hot against her neck, but the sensation lasted for a moment only as they passed through the barrier.

It took all the strength she had left not to look back over her shoulder as the doors squealed shut behind them. She was on her own.

()()()()()

And I think that's your lot. Please let me know what you think!