RATING: T
GENRE: Canon Divergence (Thor 1), Both-verse, Humor, Friendship
SUMMARY: (Sequel to Truce) There's never a dull moment for Jane, not since the so-called exiled princes of Asgard showed up.

UNWELCOME ACCIDENT

"Is this a perk of being friends?"

At the raspy, British-esque question, Jane opened one bleary eye, then the other in an attempt to orient herself.

"If so," continued that familiar timbre, "I find that I'm quite amenable."

With that, the world came into instant, piercing focus. Jane swallowed back a gasp. She was not in her bed, but lying on the worn, second-hand couch in her living room, snuggled up against Loki. No, "snuggled" was too generous. They were practically a human pretzel, his arm curled around her waist, their legs knotted together.

How? How?

She pushed against his chest—why was it bare?—in a futile attempt to disentangle herself, but he held her tight.

"Oh, Jane." Loki clucked his tongue as though he were disappointed. "I thought you were showing me just how friendly you and I could be."

"Let me go," she bit out through gritted teeth as she shoved at him hard. This time he didn't resist.

Which meant she tumbled to the floor, landing on her ass. Loki leaned over the edge of the couch, wearing that stupid smirk that had become a fixture on his angular face in the last couple of weeks.

What the hell had happened last night?

She'd been working at the lab, blessedly free of distraction for the first time in three weeks. Erik had agreed to keep the Brothers Norse occupied for the evening. Darcy was recuperating from a cold. Or faking sick to avoid coming in on a Friday night. Either way, Jane didn't care.

But then the phone call.

"Jane, you'd better get down here," Erik had said without preamble. They'd gone to the local watering hole and before he could say more, there was a shout of "Another!" followed by the crash of breaking glass.

The scene at the bar was chaos when Jane arrived. Thor was demanding that someone "have that mechanical bard play another rousing ditty" because "it will be far more entertaining as I recount the time my brother and I defeated Thrym." The patrons cheered the two on as they began to weave the tale. It wasn't long before they were arguing over details, jostling each other, bumping into tables, knocking over more glasses to join the glittering shards of other shattered tumblers and pints.

"I'm sorry, Jane," Erik said next to her. "I didn't think it would get out of hand."

She shook her head. She'd learned to never underestimate the trouble these two idiots could get into. Carefully picking her way through the glass, she yelled their names to interrupt yet another scuffle over details.

"Jane Foster!" Thor exclaimed with comical exuberance. "Look, brother! T'is the Lady Jane!"

Loki gave her a smile that was beautiful and sincere, if a little inebriated. "All hail the Lady Jane!"

The others shouted, though Jane was pretty sure they had no idea what was going on.

She rolled her eyes. "Come on, boys. It's time to go home."

Erik shooed her away when it looked like the very unhappy bartender was going to call for blood. "I'll take care of it," he said.

She went outside to meet the troublemakers. The two couldn't have been more different in looks and disposition. Thor looked the part of a half-wild mountain man with barely tamed long, blond hair, a full beard, wearing jeans, boots, and a plaid flannel. Loki, after he'd stopped wallowing in misery, had taken to dressing in whatever business casual clothes he could find in the thrift store. Tonight was a dark button-down with the sleeves rolled up and black slacks. Despite his refined, clean-shaven, slicked back veneer, there was something almost feral beneath the surface. While Thor was less intimidating than he appeared, Loki seemed far more dangerous than he looked.

Not that Jane was afraid of him. Erik called it a lack of self-preservation. She called it a matter of desensitization; it was hard to be frightened of someone who wrestled his brother for the bathroom every morning and pouted like a five-year-old when he lost.

The ride back to her place had quickly devolved into a long ode to "the fair Lady Jane." Thor started things off with her "daring" rescue of the exiled princes of Asgard. Loki took it upon himself to extol her virtues. And Jane? She wanted a singularity to open up in the middle of the road when he waxed on about her "sorrel locks and unblemished skin that compliments the grander allure of her clever mind."

If Darcy didn't live in a studio apartment above the garage of Mrs. Kensington, Puente Antiguo's resident moral enforcer and town instigator, Jane would gladly take her assistant up on the offer to let the brothers move in with her. That is, if Jane was sure the three of them wouldn't burn down the place during an epic party.

None of this explained how she'd ended up cuddling with the self-proclaimed God of Mischief.

Oh, right. There was that documentary.

She'd been too mentally exhausted to return to the lab. After changing into a pair of sweats and t-shirt, she planted herself in front of the television. Loki came out of his room, adorned in pajama bottoms and nothing else just when her channel surfing landed on some expert rambling on about Norse mythology.

Loki grinned, looking far less drunk than he was a half hour ago as he settled on the couch next to her. She blamed his height and the ridiculous metabolism that clearly kept his body fat low enough to have the kind of muscle definition that rivaled his burlier brother's—if a bit leaner. Something else on the list of things that Jane had become desensitized to. Completely. One hundred percent.

"Oh, dear," he said a few minutes into the program. "Have you finally decided to believe us?"

She snorted, her ready denial right at the tip of her tongue as it always was, but she swallowed it back in the next breath. They'd kept up the ruse for nearly a month now. If it was a con, what could they hope to get from a broke astrophysicist on the fringe of the scientific community? Granted, they'd stuck around because she was working toward building "a Midgardian Bifrost," but neither had been suspiciously eager to get their hands on her research. The only other reasonable explanation was mental illness, but that didn't fit either.

Her thoughts cut back to the printout in her lab. How it looked distinctly like two bodies falling through that inexplicable light storm. It was impossible. Wasn't it?

She turned to Loki. "Okay," she said. "Are they getting any of it right?" She nodded toward the television.

"Hardly anything at all," he replied, stretching out on the couch, forcing her to scoot back into the armrest opposite him. God or not, the man was spoiled . "Wherever did you get the notion that I gave birth to Odin's steed?"

He picked apart other stories. Apparently, he hadn't fathered a snake or a wolf or the keeper of Helheim. He refused to elaborate on Sigyn, his supposed wife, though. And he went completely still as the narrator spoke of his mythological counterpart's origins as a frost giant. Jane's heart faltered for a beat at that visceral reaction. It had been so disturbingly authentic .

Could he actually be the Loki?

The goat story seemed to snap him out of his funk, and while he claimed that, too, was fiction, he had her skip back so he could laugh at it a second time.

"Taking notes for future reference?"

"Well, yes."

A drowsy, warm feeling washed over her as they switched to The Expanse after the program ended. That was all she remembered. They must have fallen asleep and somehow become tangled with each other.

Loki rose to his feet with a long stretch, then raised a brow at her still on the floor. Before she could protest, he pulled her up to him, cinching an arm around her waist. He brushed a lock of hair from her eyes, scrutinizing her face as a smile that promised a whole lot of trouble pulled the corners of his mouth.

"Oh, I do like this," he murmured. "I accept, Jane Foster." Without further explanation, he abruptly released her and made for his room.

What? Jane scrambled after him, cursing when her toe caught the leg of the coffee table. "Accept what!?" she yelled, but his door slamming shut was the only response.

Thor peeked out of the bathroom, disheveled with puffy eyes, and Jane rounded on him.

"Please tell me," she said, "that accidentally falling asleep together on the couch while watching television is not some kind of marriage proposal or mating ritual for Norse gods!"

Thor let out a loud, guttural laugh. "No, of course not. I'm sure Loki is just having a bit of fun."

Jane blew out a heavy sigh. "Good."

"Although…"

"Don't. Just," she said, holding up a hand. "No. Nope. Nuh-uh."

She hobbled past Thor to her room, calmly closed herself in, and then screamed into her pillow.

~FIN~

A/N: Thank you for taking a gander! I'd love to hear your thoughts!