The eight hours of sleep Nancy had received was a welcome relief. It was as if a large weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Although she was still starving, her body felt refreshed and ready for her next challenge. As soon as she was sure Loki was gone for the night, she began her new strategy for escape.
For hours on end, Nancy trained in her little cell. She did push-ups, sit-ups, jumping-jacks, anything she could think of to regain her strength. Now that she was fairly in her right mind again, she had to keep her body in working condition as well. Even if she was starving to death, she would do what she could to fight it.
As she tried to regain her endurance, her muscles twitched and ached. She immediately felt the pain and weakness her hunger brought her. But she was determined to survive. To keep fighting on, no matter the cost.
Near morning, Nancy finally stopped and leaned against the wall near the barrier. She blotted at her neck and face with her shirt – thankfully she still wore her underclothes. By this time, she didn't care who saw – she glanced down at her scattered belongings, strewn about on the floor. Her eyes roved from one item to the next, weighing the value of each in turn.
Finally beginning to cool down, Nancy slipped back into her shirt and sat down cross-legged on the floor. Before her, just beyond her reach, lay the items that represented everything she was. They'd gone everywhere with her. They were everything she ever wanted or needed. Useless trinkets.
"My name is Nancy Rebekah McAllister." she began, remembering one of the coping mechanisms she'd been taught in the academy. By repeating simple, truthful, positive facts about oneself, it was easier to cope with negative and stressful situations, or to keep one's focus in times of confusion or interrogation. Now, in her lowest moment, she hoped some positivity would help her remember who she really was… before she lost herself entirely in this place. "I am thirty-five years old. I am an agent with the FBI and a former agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. I am a profiler and a linguist. I have a family. People who love me. I have solved many cases and worked many more. I am important."
She tried to believe it. So desperately tried to believe it.
But, as she sat there, the words became obscure and clouded, as if she was speaking of someone else entirely. She was not the Agent Nancy McAllister she spoke of. She was simply… 'pet'. A nameless, living possession used for pleasure and affection. An animal of the lowest rank, even when favored by a king. Yes, she'd seen pets in magazines and on the news who were pampered and treasured. But they were still pets. Creatures to be fondled and played with, then simply forgotten. A dog could be a member of the family, but at the end of the day… it was still a dog.
"My name is Nancy Rebekah McAllister. I am thirty-five years old. I am an agent with the FBI and a former agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. I am a profiler and a linguist. I have a family. People who love me. I have solved many cases and worked many more. I am important."
/
For once in his life, Loki slept like a log. Not once did he stir or roll over or move. Instead, he had a night of dreamless sleep, and woke early, refreshed. The first thought on his mind was to see how Nancy had fared the night. He had, once again, forgotten to release her to sleep. He would have to make a habit of releasing her to sleep. He couldn't have her becoming ill on him. He sighed and headed for her cell without a second thought.
Inside her cell, Nancy continued her mantra, mumbling it to herself. It was merely repetition now. A constant wheel turning in her head, forcing her to repeat the words. It was a coping mechanism and she was coping. Because she was an agent in a holding cell. The enemy had tried to get into her mind, but she wouldn't let him. No. She had her words. She knew who she was. An agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. And she would repeat it over and over until she believed it.
As Loki approached, Nancy hardly noticed him. Her eyes stared vacantly downward, focusing on her satchel. Her hands were folded across her lap. She remained motionless. The only part of her that moved was her lips.
"I see we are alert." Loki chuckled as he heard the words he could not quite make out. Coping mechanisms, he believed they were called on Midgard. Asgardian warriors used similar tactics in unpleasant situations. Was she so uncomfortable here? Loki sighed. "What are you mumbling about?"
"My name is Nancy Rebekah McAllister." Nancy repeated, louder. Her eyes continued in their vacant gaze. Her words, monotone. Repetitive. Automatic. "I am thirty-five years old. I am an agent with the FBI and a former agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. I am a profiler and linguist. I am important."
Loki shook his head. "How long have you been repeating yourself this morning?" He had to admit, it was quite amusing to hear her say it. She didn't quite sound convinced. And yet, something in her expression troubled him.
"Three-hundred seventy-eight times, sir." Her response was as automatic as her mantra. Her eyes never left their spot on the floor.
"Mm. Pity." Loki paced slowly, back and forth. He wondered if she could handle what he had planned for her this morning, in this fragile mental state. He desperately wanted to know how she would react. "I came to tell you I have not brought your apple."
Nancy slowly let her eyes slide closed. Of course he hadn't brought her apple. She'd been disobedient the night before. She didn't deserve one. Her mantra faintly fell from her lips again. It was all she had left to cling to.
"I have brought something entirely different. And it seems in good time, too."
Her eyes finally opened and glanced up to meet his. Curious, yet cautious, Nancy stood and moved away from the barrier. She stood a good distance away from him, just in case he planned to muzzle her again. Not that she had the strength to fight him. Still… she watched him with wary eyes, unsure of his motives.
Encouraged by her actions, Loki entered the barrier and held a hand before himself. He flicked his fingers ever so slightly to reveal what he had brought. A sticky roll, sugary sweetness dripping down the sides and the buttery goodness too rich to not be enticed by the smell. He held it steady as he approached her.
Nancy's eyes widened when she saw the sweet roll in his hand. It'd been weeks since she'd had anything so succulent. Her mouth immediately began to water. A soft whimper escaped her throat. "What favor do you require of me?" Her eyes darted up to meet his again. There had to be a catch. There was always a catch.
Loki thought about her question. What did he want above all else this morning? It took a lot of consideration, but finally he decided he would like her to sound somewhat sane. Yes, still a favor, enough to satisfy her suspicion. He smiled at her. "Cease your repeating."
"Is that all?" It was too simple.
"And eat it slowly, pet. Savor it."
Nancy nodded and carefully took it from him. Still cautious, she took a hesitant bite. After so many days on end without food or nourishment, with only apples or stale meat to give her life, the lone sticky roll was heaven in comparison. She let her eyes slide closed again while more soft sounds told of her pleasure. Bite after slow, savored bite, she was entirely enraptured in the deliciousness of the sweet. It was a welcome relief to the continuous horrors of her cell.
Did the woman know how positively distracting she was? Each moan, each soft emission of her pleasure, made him want to touch her. His eyes roved her from head to foot and landed on her sticky fingers. Oh, what a wonderful piece of mischief it could be. He just couldn't resist. Loki gently snatched her wrist and brought her hand closer to his mouth. He plunged his mouth over one of her fingers and swirled his tongue around it, gathering all the gooey mess to himself. Yes, the sugary goodness only tasted better like this. He moved on to the next finger.
Nancy harshly yanked her hand away from him, more from surprise than disgust. "What do you think you're doing?" she snapped, her mouth full. She tried to keep her hand away from him, but with him in such close proximity, it was definitely difficult.
He smirked and pulled her hand back to him. He couldn't let her go now, not after it had tasted so sweet. "Tasting the fruits of my labor. Do hold still." He slowly maneuvered his tongue over the next finger. Then the next. Then the next. Until he had devoured every last drop of saccharine divinity.
Nancy remained still, as he'd requested, but not really because he'd asked. In truth, she enjoyed the sensation. The closeness and the intimacy. Trying to retain some sense of dignity, she did everything within her power not to let her eyes flutter closed.
Upon considering his actions, she found his motive was what scared her. She didn't fear his sudden desire for closeness, but rather why he wanted to be close to her. He'd planned this. The sticky roll instantly led to his possession of her fingers. What would he try to take next?
As he finished with her last finger, she stared at him like he was insane. Because he was. Obviously. Insane and methodical and absolutely perfect.
Her expression didn't go unnoticed. Loki ran his tongue down the length of the final finger and met her eyes as his tongue left the tip of it. He closed his eyes tightly and smiled to himself, not bothering to release her wrist. "Yes. Delicious."
"You doing okay today?" Nancy asked quietly, gently trying to take her wrist back, "You seem a bit… off. And that's coming from the woman who sat repeating herself three-hundred-and-seventy-eight times." She finally succeeded in snatching her wrist back, and immediately wiped his saliva off on her jeans in a dramatic show of feigned disgust. This day was getting weirder and weirder by the moment, and she could only imagine what he'd have planned for her next.
Loki grinned at her. Just what he wanted, a bit of confusion and suspicion as to his motives. There was the woman he knew from Midgard. "I am perfectly fine, pet. It is you I should be worried about."