There was a lot about Midgard that Thor understood: the technology (an antiquated system that Asgard had used and discarded years ago), the odd turn of phrases, and the strange clothing that he actually quite enjoyed. He'd adjusted well to the realm and its inhabitants, all its culture and everyday objects. There was one thing of Midgard, though, he feared he would never comprehend: the women.

If he hadn't inadvertently insulted Jane yesterday morning by commenting on how he actually liked crispy bacon, he would still have been confused by Natasha's display of aggression as he accidentally woke her at four o'clock in the morning while he was training with Steve.

He couldn't understand it; most people were thrilled to hear you compliment their cooking, and everyone he'd known in Asgard was always awake at that time of night, either feasting, training, or out enjoying the early morning darkness.

He could also never really understand why Darcy felt the need to walk down one of the many halls in Stark Tower with a mere towel loosely wrapped around her frame and a toothbrush stuck in her mouth, her sopping wet hair pinned up close to her head.

Asgardian women clung to decency, always, and never openly displayed their nightly habits to near strangers.

It was a curious thing, indeed.