I didn't know how Yelena did it. How did this woman hold this mysterious power over me, that she could get me to agree to stuff that I normally would never do on my own willingly? What was it about this smart-mouthed, sarcastic, extremely irritating Russian that she was able to talk me into things that even Bucky couldn't? It had to be witchcraft. I didn't care what Loki said, she had to be descended from Baba Yaga.

I hated shopping. I mean, I really hated shopping. It was a hassle, going to retail stores was always an ordeal because of the sounds, the smells, the frustration, exhaustion, and emotional drain from the employees, the hostility from entitled customers who seemed to live only for the experience of bullying said hapless retail employees. But Yelena had insisted on going dress shopping, and had convinced me that it would be nice to greet Loki all dressed up when he got home.

"Loki will be way too hammered," no pun intended, "to appreciate anything I'm wearing."

Yelena had stared at me like I had lost my mind. "Loki? Loki not notice what you are wearing? We are talking same god, no? Trust me, he notices everything about you, drunk or not. You're getting a dress."

So, I was looking for a damn dress.

I had initially pulled out a tasteful black dress that showed just enough skin to be mouth-watering but not so much that it was slutty, but was immediately shut down by both Yelena and Nat. "No black," Yelena had said. Okay, no black. Well, that was overdone anyway. Loki liked me in green, but I felt that it would be nice to wear something different.

I pulled out a knee length dress in scarlet. I held it up to myself, considering it.

"No. Too flashy," Yelena stated. "But I think you have right idea. Just not so bright. Hmmm..."

I was starting to get annoyed. I didn't know what Yelena's deal was, and I could not figure it out. For someone who was ace and aro, she was proving to be a hell of a romantic and seemed to be personally invested in this evening.

We visited two more dress boutiques. I was ready to call it quits. I didn't see the point. Loki and I would probably be lucky if he could teleport us anywhere without help this evening, and he would most likely be spending much of it sobering up. I was anticipating much of the fun to happen in the wee hours of tomorrow morning. I was seriously considering Yelena's remark from breakfast yesterday about just greeting Loki with a ribbon tied around myself when he got home. Not that I could see him doing much about it.

Then again, Loki was very inventive when he wanted to be.

"Ooooohhh," I heard Yelena coo. "Tracy, you must try this one on." She walked over to me holding the dress almost reverently.

The skirt ended just above the knees on the front but the hem subtly changed length so that on the back the hem ended midcalf. It was long-sleeved with a plunging neckline that promised to reveal just enough cleavage to tease but still left a lot to the imagination. The fabric was light and airy, breathable and I knew it would cling to show off every curve but would still be tasteful. The color was a deep rose, a soft color edging more towards red than pink, but it was more feminine than flashy.

It proved fit perfectly when I tried it on in the fitting room.

"Oh, that's it," Yelena nodded. "That is the one."

I turned, and Nat murmured her agreement. I had to admit, the dress was killer. Too bad Loki most likely would be in no shape to admire it.

When we went to check out, I started to reach for my wallet but Nat stopped me. "Nope. Consider it...our way of helping you out."

Nat paid for the dress and we left. "So, are we done now?"

Yelena laughed. "No, silly! We need to get shoes, and some nice lingerie for you to wear under it, and accessories..."

I just barely repressed a long-suffering sigh.

Loki just barely repressed a long-suffering sigh. Thor did this every year, with the exception of the last decade or so. Took him away, encouraged him to drink to excess, and left him waking up the next morning feeling like he had used that damn hammer to smack him around a few times. All to celebrate his "birthday". It wasn't even his real birthday. It was the day Odin "adopted" him. Ha! Kidnapped him was more like it.

Loki had never liked this day that served as a reminder of the event that Odin continued to hold over his head after the truth was revealed. It was the very thing Odin brought up at his so-called "trial" after the whole messy business in New York years ago. "Your birthright was to die!" Odin had declared, and Loki was the ungrateful bastard who should have wallowed and thanked Odin oh-so-much for having the grace to take in the poor Jotun runt whom no one wanted. Let's just ignore the fact that Odin lied to him for his entire life.

The only reason Loki went along with it was because celebrating it made Thor happy. As Thor explained it, it was the day that the two of them met. The day that they became brothers. That's what they were celebrating.

Thor would be lucky if they ever celebrated another one. "I can't believe you told her!"

Thor gulped down another mug of beer and raised his eyebrows. "What, was I supposed to lie to her? You know no one can lie to her, Loki, she would never have let me get away with it and she was so insistent! You know how she can be!"

Yes, he was fully aware of just how persuasive his Pet could be, and he knew that his brother was utterly incapable of saying no to her as well. Loki sipped his beer more slowly. He had every intention of being sober this evening so he could throw a nice little wrench in whatever his little darling planned. Oh, she would enjoy the wrench, but he'd be damned if he was letting her get one over on him. "You give in to her way too much. Are you not the same man who warned me off her, describing her as 'unstable' and 'dangerous', and complained about how much time you had to spend stopping her from trying to kill everyone since you and Banner were the only ones strong enough to hold her down?"

Thor shrugged. "What can I say. She grew on me. And she's been good for you."

Loki couldn't argue with that. Ah, well. No doubt she intended to show her appreciation for what he did for...well, to her on her birthday. He had whisked her away to Brazil, but the two of them hadn't done much sight-seeing. He had been convinced she was going to wake up the entire continent of South America with her screams that night. The memory made him smile, but he quickly focused his thoughts on other things. The last thing he wanted was to get excited in his brother's presence.

"I can't wait until you two get married," Thor stated, sipping his beer.

Yeah, about that..."It seems you are about the only one in New Asgard who feels that way."

Thor set his drink down. "What do you mean?"

Loki sighed. "Thor, you really can be a thick-headed oaf. Have you not heard the whispers, or seen the expressions on the faces of some of the nobles when they look at her?"

His brother shrugged. "They're still in denial, I think. Once it's official, they'll fall in line. If they give you or her grief, Valkyrie and I will sort them out."

"It's more than that. Just...the wedding. Must it be in New Asgard?"

Thor laughed. "You're an Asgardian Prince! Of course it needs to be in New Asgard! A royal wedding is just the thing our people need to boost spirits after everything they have been through for the past several years. This will be a celebration, the mark of a new beginning for us, and it'll bring them hope that Asgard will endure! And when you two have children..."

"If we have children." Loki actually was not eager to be a parent. He didn't exactly have the best role models as far as fathers went, and was well convinced that he would royally screw up with any child he did have. He had a very fucked up childhood, and had no healthy foundation on which to raise a child and teach it how to be a productive adult.

Tracy had her own issues. He hadn't seen her around children a lot, but the few times he had she had been hesitant, timid, almost afraid. He also knew that she would be concerned about her mental instability. Then there was the fact that they didn't know if she was even capable of bearing children, or even if the two of them would be able to reproduce...they were different species after all. It was unlikely they were compatible.

"Well...it's up to you, of course, but you really need an heir..."

"You need an heir more than I do. When are you going to get started on producing some royal brats?" It was far, far too soon to think about children, if at all. Loki wanted time to enjoy his wife, and if they did have any kids, it would be on their terms, not because he was under pressure to produce any heirs. He really wasn't eager to do Asgard any favors.

Thor's hand shook a little as he raised his glass to take a huge gulp of his drink in order to avoid answering. "Besides, brother, it's-"

"Tradition, yes. So everyone keeps telling me. I just didn't expect it from the man who once brought his mortal lover to Asgard expressly against all of the decrees making it forbidden for any mortal to step foot there."

Thor tilted his glass in a salute. "Touche. What's all this about, Loki? You two...are you two thinking about getting married elsewhere?"

Loki looked down at his glass. "It would take a great deal of stress off both of us, especially her. She's told me that she has never wanted a big wedding. She said that she would rather have a smaller gathering with close friends." And family, which she had cried about. Loki had held her as she sobbed, her sadness that her parents wouldn't be there heart-rending. Her mother wouldn't be there to help her dress. Her father wouldn't be giving her away. Her sisters wouldn't be there to bitch about the ugly bridesmaid dresses she put them in (her exact words, and she had been joking as well).

Loki was also sad that his mother wouldn't be there, and had done his crying over it. "And the idea appeals to me as well."

Thor cocked his head, clearly thinking. "The Council and Elders would be very angry with you."

"When are the Council and Elders not angry with me?" Loki scoffed. "Besides, they don't want to be at this wedding any more than Tracy or I do. We would be doing them a favor."

"Still...invitations have already been sent out, and the cooks have already been at work...some of the people are excited...they would be most disappointed..."

Loki sighed, his shoulders sagging. He had been feeling hopeful that his brother was onboard with the idea, but now he felt those hopes deflating like a punctured balloon. Thor noticed because his next words were, "Whatever you decide, brother, I support you. But I do want to be there when it happens. Nothing would give me more joy than to witness your nuptials." Then he abruptly stood. "Enough of this. We need to meet Steve."

Loki's eyebrows shot almost to his hairline. "Steve? What for?"

"Well, I told him it was your birthday, and he and the fellows wanted to celebrate as well. They are meeting us for more merriment. They have nearly a whole day planned, but worry not. I will have you home in time. Tracy would have my head if I dared to do otherwise."

Loki miraculously managed to hold back the groan.

Before Loki began joining us for Paintball Saturdays, I would frequently come home covered in paint and mud. The paint was due to the fact that I was the first target the opposition would aim for, wanting to take out the stronger player on my team first. The mud was usually inevitable, particularly when you had instances like one Saturday when I sat on Bucky's back after one brutal shootout. We had each exhausted our ammunition on each other, and then things had devolved into a wrestling match, until I was in the aforementioned position making him eat, well, mud.

Actually, that had been after Loki had begun joining us. He had been the one to break us up. Then he had been the one to make me eat mud to teach me not to pick on someone who wasn't as strong as me.

But before that, I would arrive home to him covered in mud. Loki wasn't too thrilled with me trailing mud all over the house and would make snide remarks about it. On a couple of occasions, I had responded to said snide comments by running at him with arms wide open, threatening to give him a nice muddy hug. His response had been to either pick me up and dump me into our shower, or take the sprayer hose by the kitchen sink and spray me down.

Going even earlier, I used to get messy all the time as a kid. I was a tomboy and lived to play in the dirt, and yes mud. It was so much fun and I loved it. My mother...not so much. I would tramp into the house and she would pick my muddy butt up and dump me into the shower, or would take me to the back porch and use the garden hose to spray me down.

Come to think of it, Loki and my mother might have gotten along really well. They had at least one thing in common. Both of them loved to dunk me in water.

Point was, my being covered in mud was always something that was frowned upon by the people in my life, so I felt very odd now. As far as I could see, the only difference between the mud I was covered in during those times in the past and the mud I was covered up in here in the present was that this mud was expensive.

I really saw no point to this treatment. But I was currently leaning in a Lazy Boy recliner in Nat's home with mud on my face and some sort of herbal poultice on my eyes. The latter I really saw no point in. Ever since my change I had never had a problem with bags under my eyes. I no longer had problems with my skin. This mud treatment was meant to clean out and tighten pores, but I just found it irritating. Nat had just responded to my puzzled look by saying it was meant to help me further relax while she and Yelena gave me a mani-pedi.

We were doing this at Nat's home rather than a salon because I had issues with being touched by strangers. So, spas and nail salons were an absolute No Way for me. Same with hair salons. We had bought my dress, found some shoes, and even went to a jewelry store for some tasteful pieces to go with the ensemble, but Yelena said I needed to have my hair and nails done. It was a good thing that she and Nat both were almost experts in the realm of doing hair and makeup from years of doing undercover work as Black Widows. There was much less chance of me freaking out over the two of them touching me than some poor salon worker who didn't get paid enough to dodge a crazy woman with touch anxiety trying to attack them.

It still took all my self-control not to jump out of the chair and dive straight into the shower, if nothing else to wash the crap off my face. It was starting to itch.

After they were through, it would be hair. And then Yelena had said something about make-up.

I kept having to repeat the mantra in my head: This is for Loki. This is for Loki. This is for Loki.

This day was really trying my patience.

"I thought I said I did not want to see exotic dancers," Loki snarled, and didn't hide his extreme irritation this time. There was only one woman he wanted to see nude, and the way things were going at this moment, he was starting to wonder if he would get to see her at all this evening.

This day was really trying his patience.

"It isn't that kind of gentleman's club," Steve laughed, foolishly unaware of just how close he was to having every bone in his body snapped in half. "Actually, it'd be more accurate to say it's a cigar club. It's a high-end place for semi-formal parties. Serves nothing but top-shelf alcohol, sometimes features live jazz musicians, and of course there's quality cigars for those who are into that. It's not exclusively for men, but you don't see a lot of women there. I think most of them don't like being surrounded by too much testosterone." Loki's expression must have been suspicious because Steve added, "No strippers. I promise."

"But there is a dress code," Sam added, pushing a wheeled rack into the room. A selection of suits and tuxedos hung from it, a variety of colors and a variety of tastes, from classy to gaudy. Loki blinked at one that was covered in purple rhinestones, and wondered if someone had slipped it in there as a joke.

"See, brother, Steve gave me the idea: What sort of celebration would Loki really enjoy? Together, we decided that instead of a rousing party of drinking and boasting, you might like something a bit more understated. Formal. Something with class." Thor gestured around the room, taking in Steve, Sam, Bruce, and Bucky. "So, we decided to treat you to an evening at this cigar club, listen to some jazz, enjoy some quality drink...just bask in some style on this day."

This day was now in late afternoon, and Loki really wanted to get home to his Pet. But these men had gone to this trouble, and it was really the first time in his life he really had friends, especially ones who would go to this much trouble for him. "Alright," he nodded. "I can dress myself though."

"Yeah, we've all seen your black suit," Sam stated dismissively. "But I'm thinking something different." He rummaged through the suits on the rack, rejecting item after item, until he went "Aha!" and pulled a tuxedo out.

It was a cream that was close to white, the fabric soft and decadent, with black accents. "The club really requires something this fancy?" Something didn't feel right.

"Hey, how often do any of us get to clean up and show what we're made of?" Steve asked, reaching for a black tuxedo and studying it, clearly deciding it would be what he wore. "And with you here to use your magic to make them fit us, we don't even have to wait on a tailor to make alterations."

"Yeah, c'mon Loki," Bucky spoke up. "We'll be just like the rat pack, only in tuxes. And in New York, rather than Vegas.

"Gotta admit, sounds like fun. I don't get out very often, so this'll be a treat for me, too," Bruce added.

Loki sighed, accepted the cream tux from Sam, and then went to an empty room at the mansion to get changed. After he used his magic to fix the fit on everyone's suits so that everyone looked spectacular, the men piled into a van and they were off to enjoy some time listening to jazz and smoking cigars.

Well, at least the other men would enjoy it. Loki would just be counting the seconds until the day was over.