The first thought he had after opening the door to his apartment was that it was unusually cold. Granted, the heater didn't work all that well, and the building had the world's best insulation or anything, but it shouldn't have been quite as cold in the room as it was. The temperature made more sense when he turned to the outside wall. The window near that led to fire escape was wide open, forced open, clearly. The latch had been torn completely out of the window frame. Judging by the pile of snow that had accumulated on his floor, it had been open for some time.

His first thought was that it had been a robbery, but none of his few possessions seemed to be out of place. Everything was exactly as he left it, except for the snow on the floor...and the girl laying in it.

Wait, what?

Why?

Who was she? Why break into his apartment? What was she doing here? Who the hell was she? Why was she laying on the floor? What was going on here?

He stepped forward to get a closer look. Her eyes were closed, but she was clearly breathing, at least. It was so cold inside that he could see the small puffs of vapor every time she took a breath. There were chunks of ice frozen into her long dark hair, and her fingertips were dangerously blue. Almost certainly frostbite. She'd probably broken in to get out of the cold, he thought, although why she'd been out in New York City in the middle of winter without a coat, he had no idea.

Well, first things first, he closed the window. He'd have to get that latch fixed later. She must have been truly desperate to be able to conjure up the strength to break it, especially if she'd been half frozen at the time. Those were two-inch screws that had been ripped out of the oak window frame. He shook his head in astonishment. This whole thing was bizarre. And there'd been that meteor strike over in Central Park earlier...

Apparently today was just the day for strange occurrences. He forced his mind to focus back on the task at hand. Carefully, he picked the girl up and laid her on the bed. She was young, he thought stupidly as he wrapped her in the few blankets he had. Maybe 20, at the oldest. It seemed like a silly thing to notice at the time, but that didn't stop him from thinking it.

What else were you supposed to do for someone with hypothermia? He wished he'd paid more attention in those field medicine courses. Maybe he should call a doctor, although he doubted he'd be able to afford one. Still, he couldn't just let her die.

Loki woke slowly. It was like trying to swim up with huge weights tied to her legs. The first thing her tired brain registered was warmth, which was strange, since she had fallen asleep in the snow. She tried to wiggle her fingers. It hurt, but it was bearable. Her fingers brushed against something warm. Blankets? Perhaps. Then-

"Where...where am I?" Loki's eyes slowly blinked open. Yes, they were blankets. She turned her head to see a stranger sitting nearby, watching her. He was young and handsome, with short brown hair and blue-gray eyes. "Who are you?"

Her eyes were a bright, clear green, and they sparkled with intelligence. She had a strange accent, something Eastern European of some variety. Maybe she was a refugee from the war?

It took him a moment to realize he was staring at her. "Well, um, you're in New York City, Brooklyn to be precise, in my apartment which you broke into?"

"Oh. Right. My apologies." She chuckled morbidly. "I did not mean to break your window; I only wished to get out of the cold."

"It's fine," he told her. "It's not that hard to fix. What's your name?"

Loki thought fast. Her real name was too...alien to use. Midgardians had their own strange customs, and the Aesir had once been revered as gods. It was possible some of those legends still existed.

"Lisa," she said. "What is yours?"

"I'm James Barnes," he said with a small smile. "Most people call me Bucky."

"That is a bizarre variant of James."

Bucky laughed. "That's because it comes from my middle name."

"Ah." Loki smiled tiredly.

"You should rest," Bucky told her. "You can explain what you're doing here in the morning."

Loki nodded. She knew she should protest, maybe force herself to get a move on, but she was still too tired. She probably couldn't even enter a healing trance at the moment, anyway. Seemingly of their own accord, her eyes closed, and she lost herself to sleep again.

A/N: For those who are wondering, the step of treating hypothermia that Bucky forgot is to remove any wet clothing. I, the author, did not forget; I simply made him skip that step for obvious reasons. You're welcome. But seriously, if you ever actually need to treat someone for hypothermia, that step is really important.

-Sil