RATING: T
GENRE: Canon Divergence (Thor 1), Both-verse, Friendship
SUMMARY: Fringe scientist Jane Foster suddenly finds herself saddled with two tall men who claim to be Norse gods from mythology, stripped of their powers and punished by being stranded on Earth. She's trying to make due with these crazy brothers, but one of them has gotten on her last nerve.

TRUCE

"How many times have I told you that's not how you make cereal?"

Loki barely looked up from his position at the breakfast counter, head propped up in his hand as he poured vodka into a bowl with the other. His raven hair was a mess and the skin under his pale eyes was dark as he glared at Jane. He made a show of setting down the bottle, screwing the cap back on, and then gathered it and the bowl in his arms. He huffed a growl as he staggered back to his room.

Jane glanced at Thor, hoping the behemoth of a man next to her had some explanation for his brother.

Thor shook his head. "I have no idea what's come over him," he said. "Perhaps being stripped of his magic has driven him mad."

Jane closed her eyes in exasperation. She was trying her level best to believe that these two ridiculously tall men actually fell out of a wormhole. That they were mythical gods out of Norse legend–made mortal and abandoned on Earth as punishment from their one-eyed dad for some crazy antic that turned out to be an act of war between two realms. The notion was a little beyond what her scientific mind could accept, but both men kept up the pretense (if it even was a pretense), even two weeks later.

"This is getting out of hand." Jane stalked off toward Loki's room. The guy was either drunk or hungover all the time, and she'd had enough . If he wanted to be a lush for the rest of his life, fine. He could find his own place and pay for his liquor with his own money.

She didn't bother to knock, but threw the door open and stepped inside. Her building tirade died in her throat, though, as her gaze landed on the lanky self-proclaimed God of Mischief. The bottle and bowl sat on the flimsy nightstand by his bed, forgotten. He was on the floor, head tilted back against the wall, glassy stare pointed at nothing in particular. He'd been all sneers and biting comments since the night he and his brother appeared out of thin air. She'd never seen him so vulnerable. So bleak . It made her chest ache with compassion.

He swiveled his head in her direction. "Am I to suffer another matronly lecture?" he asked in a voice devoid of emotion–as if donning his sardonic mask was too much of an effort. "I'd rather skip this one, if you don't mind. They're getting rather tedious."

She studied him a moment longer before crossing the room and plopping down next to him. He cocked a brow, but didn't argue. That was something at least. She stuck out her hand to shake. "Truce?"

His other brow joined the first as he stared at her hand. "Why?" The suspicion in his tone made her wonder how it was possible that he and Thor were from the same family. Thor, though arrogant, was open, trusting. Loki was the opposite.

Jane hid her growing frustration with a shrug, though she kept her hand up. "Because I want to be friends."

Loki let out a brittle laugh. "You–a mere mortal, an ant I could crush under my boot–want to be friends with me, a god ?"

She almost smacked him. He always knew just what buttons to push. But she wasn't going to let him win this time. "Yep. Take it or leave it."

He huffed another laugh, this one more tentative. Almost as if he was surprised. "Fine. You can have your truce–for what little it's worth," he muttered, clasping her forearm briefly rather than shaking her hand.

"Good." She drew her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around them. "Now that's settled, as your friend–"

"Oh, wonderful ."

"As your friend ," she talked over whatever sarcastic comment he was about to make, "I've got to tell you: it's time to get your head out of your ass."

He blinked at her, dumbfounded, and then threw back his head and bellowed with laughter. "You truly have no self-preservation, do you?" he asked when he sobered, but there was something in his eyes. A light that hadn't been there before.

"One could argue the same about you, Loki," she countered.

He seemed to consider it, tongue and teeth grazing over his bottom lip as he gave her a small, genuine smile. It was startling, breathtaking . "I like you, Jane Foster." But then, he turned away, the moment over. "I will take your friendly advice under consideration." It was a dismissal, and she knew better than to linger.

"You'd better." She left him alone.

The next morning, Loki scowled at Jane as usual, but she grinned back at him. Because he'd poured milk in his cheerios instead of vodka. Maybe a god needed a friend after all.

~FIN~

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! The story continues in the next chapter, "Unwelcome Accident." Drop me a review! They feed the muse!