I had to admit, I looked good.

The dress looked as beautiful now as it had at the store, hugging and flowing in all the right places to accentuate my curves without making me look lumpy. The onyx bracelets, pendent, and earrings provided some pretty touches and the shoes looked classy but were comfortable enough that my feet wouldn't be killing me.

Yelena had managed to tame the unruly brown mass on the top of my head into a pretty, luxurious fall of silk thanks to copious amounts of conditioner, other hair product, and a curling iron. Half of my hair was swept back from my face, held in place by a few pretty cream-colored combs, and the few strands that were still hanging around the front of my ears she had curled into delicate ringlets. With light touches of make-up to highlight my eyes, and just a hint of color on my lips, I actually looked decent. I barely recognized myself, and wondered what Loki would think.

Assuming that he wasn't so drunk by the time I saw him again that he'd be able to see less than two of me.

"He's going to go nuts," Natasha announced in approval, watching me admire myself in a full-length mirror.

I smiled. "He is. And I can't thank the two of you enough." When the two of them had talked me into doing this, I had possessed my doubts. I didn't see the point, anything I wore wouldn't stay on me for long anyway, Loki would be passed out on the sofa before he could take me in fully.

Now though...I felt a surge of feminine pride. I actually felt pretty. It's amazing what a dress and some make-up will do for one's confidence. "Now I just have to figure out what to do that won't mess this outfit up until Loki gets back from boozing with his brother."

There was no way what happened next was a coincidence. The timing was just too perfect.

A portal opened in Nat's living room. Stepping out through it, wearing his whole Voodoo getup, was Jericho. As much as I liked Jericho (even if I had told Loki the opposite), he was the last person I wanted to see.

My stomach fell. There was only one reason Jericho could be here, and it wasn't a good one.

Nat and Yelena had both moved into action the moment the portal appeared, and now both had their Widow Stingers aimed at Jericho's head. The man just intruded into Nat's apartment, so I couldn't blame them. They didn't know him.

"It's alright," I sighed. "He's a friend."

"I need your help," Jericho told me while the sisters slowly relaxed their stances.

"You couldn't get ahold of Stephen?"

Jericho shook his head. "I need you. Black Talon was released from jail on bond today, and now some areas of New Orleans are being overrun by his zombies. I am just barely managing to hold back the tide, but I am hoping that you can use your angelfire to truly cull the herd."

"Who's Black Talon?"

"Bad Voodoo Priest," I answered Nat. "Has a thing for black roosters."

Yelena started snorting and coughing. Nat grinned slightly. "So...you're off to fight some guy who really likes black co-"

"The black rooster is the symbol of Maman Brigitte, Loa of death and keeper of the Underworld," Jericho informed Nat in a weary voice that edged towards being testy. Oh no. Now I was going to get started.

Nat held up her hands in surrender. "I meant no offense."

"Jericho," I started, needing to change the subject before this conversation devolved any further. "You know I can't control the angelfire. I can't just call it up at will. I really don't think I'll be much help."

"At this point, I will take anything," Jericho responded, and then the two of us were gone from Nat's home before I could protest any more.

Loki really didn't see the appeal in cigars. The things stank, they tasted awful, and the smoke burned his throat. He had taken one puff and decided that cigars were one Midgardian experience he would joyfully miss out on. The club itself was not a bad place. The décor was tasteful and understated, the epitome of elegance and class, with wood trim polished to a shine and lighting that gave the place a 1920s gangster movie ambiance. The drinks were indeed very good, and while Loki had never really listened to jazz in his time on Midgard, he was starting to develop an appreciation for it. He wondered how his Pet liked it.

They had been at this establishment for an hour, and the sun had set. Loki had tried to relax and enjoy the company, but he was anxious. He wanted to check on his Pet. Not only did he actually want to see her sometime before the night's end, but he was worried. She had seemed fine this morning before Thor had dragged him away from home, but he couldn't help but think about last night. She had been so shaken and vulnerable. Dealing with what she had finally accepted about herself...that was big. He of all people knew how earth-shattering it was.

He really should have been there for her, not having drinks with the guys while she was at home with nothing but a cat and a ferret for company.

He was about to thank the men for the company, for the drinks, and for introducing him to this club, when the coms the others were wearing went off. The noises weren't loud since they were set to vibrate, but it was enough to attract everyone's attention.

"We need to go. Stephen says there's trouble, and we should meet him," Steve got up, threw several 20s on the table to cover the drinks as well as tips for the waitstaff.

"We're pretty far from the Mansion. Is there anyone there who can get the Quinjet to us fast enough?" Sam asked.

"We don't have time to wait for the Quinjet," Steve shook his head. "Loki, can you get us to Stephen's location?"

"Child's play," Loki responded, and not without a touch of anger. Damn it, so much for getting home to Tracy. He raised his hands, prepared to change his tux to his Asgardian armor.

Thor clamped a hand on his shoulder. "No time for that! We need to go!"

No time for...it took him moments to change!

Sighing, Loki concentrated on Stephen's smug, irritating face and teleported himself and the men to the location he had locked onto.

Jericho and I arrived on the deck of a beach house, which was an odd choice of location. It was about as far removed from being zombie infested as one could get. The sun had gone down a while ago so it was dark but I could see the moon's reflection in the water, hear the surf lapping at the sand. The air smelled of salt, seaweed, fish, and...Stephen? So, Jericho had recruited his help after all.

Then why ask me to tag along? Jericho and Stephen were more than capable of dealing with a horde of zombies, and they could wipe the floor with a guy who dressed as a giant black rooster (I wish I were joking, but Stephen had shown me the pictures of the outfit he and Jericho had found hanging in a closet's secret compartment in the Cult's mansion) whose Voodoo was nowhere near Jericho's league. The hell did they need me for? Especially since I wasn't at all dressed for fighting zombies. One of them had better be prepared to use their magic to change my outfit, because I was not going to ruin this dress.

"What are we doing here?" I asked, getting pissed off. "I don't smell any zombies. This doesn't even smell like New Orleans!" It was missing that swampy, marshy zing that hung over southern Louisiana like a weighted blanket, making the area humid as fuck on top of being a scorching hellhole even in December.

"We just need to pick up a few things."

"Like what? Zombie repellant? Or a change of clothes? Cause I'm not really dressed for..."

Jericho opened the door and I followed him through the living room of the house, and almost bumped into him when he abruptly stopped.

"Now wh-" My lips clamped shut when Jericho turned with a flourish, presenting a handful of cream-colored roses to me. "Um...thanks, but...you know I'm engaged?"

Jericho laughed. "You need them, my friend. Every bride needs a bouquet."

"What-"

The door to the great room opened. Stephen, dressed in a tuxedo, extended his hand towards me. "Allow me to escort you, Tracy."

"Escort me? Escort me wh-" Then I smelled them.

Bazooka Joe bubblegum. Oranges and fresh cut grass. Butterscotch. Ozone and fresh bagels with everything. Bruce, Yelena, and Nat's scents.

But the scent I noticed the most was the ice kissed by peppermint.

Stephen took advantage of my shock and dragged me through the door.

And there, dressed in a cream tux that matched the combs in my hair and the blooms in my hand, his shocked expression matching mine, was Loki.

She looked beautiful.

Loki felt all the air get punched out of him when Stephen dragged Tracy through the door. She was stunning, and she was stunned. He wondered what they had told her to get her here. No doubt she had been expecting some trouble just as he had been. When Loki had teleported himself and the men to Stephen, he had found himself at this beach house and had almost blown up because the Sorcerer had just been standing there, in a tux, not looking at all ruffled or urgent.

He had started opening his mouth, intent on saying some very nasty words, when Yelena, wearing a deep blue evening gown, had come into the room, walked up to him, pinned something to his jacket, patted his shoulder, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "For luck," she had stated with a wink.

The something she had pinned to his tux was a boutonniere, a rose that was a dark shade of blush that he now saw matched the color of Tracy's dress exactly. A dress that he had every intention of peeling off her later tonight, slowly.

She finally managed to speak. "H-how...what...h-how..."

Stephen patted the hand she was holding onto his arm with. "You have the Russian Terror there to thank for this. You're right...she can be terrifying."

Her and Loki's eyes both found Yelena, who wore a smug smile. "Oh, come on! I had to do something before the two of you wound up becoming the first couple in New Asgard to get married in prison! Tracy told me about the threat you gave to that man who wanted to do the boar hunt!" She pointed at Loki. "And when I brought up the wedding, you," she pointed at Tracy, "would get this scary look in your eye when you mentioned the seamstress, plus when we were out yesterday you were looking a little too longingly at the stables where the New York police keep the horses, and said something about wondering if they had any spare shoes you could borrow!"

Everyone in the room looked confused at that, and eyes shifted back and forth between Tracy and Loki.

Loki cleared his throat. "Believe me, you do not want to know." But he did quirk an eyebrow at his Pet, since he knew exactly what she would have done with any horseshoes she had procured. She blushed and suddenly found her roses interesting.

"I just thought...why not do the poor people of New Asgard a favor and get the two of you married so neither of you would kill anyone?" Yelena shrugged. "So, I called around to everyone, and...well, here we are."

Tracy blinked. "You put all of this..." she looked around the room "...together in less than twelve hours?!"

"Without either of us knowing?" Loki asked, still unable to take his eyes off his Pet.

"She called me last night," Thor informed them.

"And then Thor called the rest of us," Steve added.

"Yelena then called me," Stephen piped up. "And since we needed an officiant, I called Jericho."

"Jericho is-" Tracy shut up when the set of doors that had been hidden by the bodies of the men up until now opened to reveal the Houngan in question, wearing dressier robes, standing behind a Voodoo altar, complete with bottles of rum and cigars to present as offerings to the Loa.

"It won't be a strictly Voodoo ceremony," Jericho informed them. "I did some research overnight, and Thor helped me as well with incorporating some Asgardian elements." Loki saw that there were drinking horns etched with Runes, as well as a pair of swords for him and Tracy to exchange during the ceremony.

"People usually get a surprise party," Steve finished. "You two get a surprise wedding."

Loki was dumbstruck. He looked at Thor. "What about not disappointing our people?"

"Oh, we'll still drink and feast, and partake in merriment with them at a later date," Thor promised, and then he chuckled. "This just means that the boring part will be out of the way. Brother, I want you to be happy, and you clearly were not happy with what was shaping up to be in Asgard. All that matters to me is your happiness, and that I am present to witness it." His brother clapped his shoulder. "You said you both wanted small and intimate. Consider this your birthday gift."

"We had best get started, before the bride is incapable of repeating any vows," Jericho stated.

Loki looked at her again, and sure enough his Pet was crying. She wasn't full out sobbing yet, but tears were falling down her cheeks faster than she could knuckle them away.

Yelena took her place on one side of the altar, Thor the other. Everyone else parted to the sides, standing as Stephen walked towards the altar with Tracy's trembling hand holding onto his crooked elbow.

When Stephen handed her off to Loki, she took his hand and asked. "So...do you mind sharing your birthday with our wedding?"

Loki didn't even have to think about it. He smiled. "I actually think it rather appropriate, since you are the best gift I have ever received."

She choked back a sob, and managed to hold it in while Jericho opened the small ceremony with a blessing.