Chapter Sixty-Four: Casper

Sam was drinking coffee at a sandwich shop in Astoria. It was one of his least favorite places, he didn't care for the food or the service, but chose to come here given the company he'd be keeping. He didn't want to sour the atmosphere of a place he liked by having Natasha there. After seeing Eve's house, he realized he had more questions than he could handle. They were going to swallow him in one bite. So he called his former co-worker, tail between his legs, and asked her to meet him at this shitty sandwich shop.

She walked right to his table. He'd sat in a corner booth, completely hidden from doors and windows, his back to the entrance and concealed by the seat's tall back, but she'd still known exactly where he'd be. Maybe hiding was predictable. But he knew it was because she was the best at what she did.

"Why here?" She asked. "This place is terrible."

Darla slid into the booth next to her.

"Why did you bring your trainee?" Sam eyed her up with a twinge of envy. He remembered being fresh-faced and optimistic. He used to smile. And feel lucky. Like his job was a secret privilege. Now he wished it had never happened.

"You were at Eve's house," Natasha said.

"Fucking spy shit," Sam spat, and his abrupt cursing made Darla flinch.

"We can continue this conversation pretending we don't always know exactly where you are and what you're doing if you like. Would that make you more comfortable? It'll certainly take extra time that way, since I'll have to lead you into admitting things I already know. If that would be better, though, I'm willing."

Sam groaned. "Stop. Yes, I was at Eve's house."

"Right, I brought Darla because if you have questions about that, you'll have to direct them to her. I wasn't there."

"I thought you knew everything?"

"I know about this but first hand accounts are always better."

Darla was sweating. Natasha hadn't told her this was the plan. Was it her idea all along? Why she came to the lab in the first place? What would this accomplish?

"Alright," he said. "What happened?"

All eyes on Darla. "Oh. Wh-where should I start?"

"Try the beginning." Sam wasn't feeling forgiving or patient. He wished he was at home with his mediocre book. Darla didn't respond. "God, Nat, she can't even say the word where."

"Take it easy, Barrows, do you want answers or not?"

He did, but not from his replacement. "Try again, Bambi."

All the comparisons to helpless woodland creatures weren't helping Darla's confidence issues. This time, however, it encouraged her to push forward. She cleared her throat. "I was the only one that saw Eve go missing, so I got roped into the mission to recover her. We went to her house. I rode with Tony and Dr. Banner."

"First name basis with Iron Man, huh? I don't think I ever formally met the guy."

"You must have," Natasha said.

"Yeah, well I definitely never called him Tony."

"What's your point?" Darla asked, and even her innocent voice conveyed the annoyance in her gut.

Natasha grinned. "Yeah. What's your point?"

Sam had nothing to add, so Darla went on.

"When we arrived, Thor was incapacitated. We found out later on that Loki had cast a spell that sort of discombobulated anyone who passed through it. Disoriented, rather, I guess. I dunno, magic." Sam swallowed a sigh. Darla found she wasn't concerned with what he thought of her storytelling skills. She was more focussed on making sure things lined up and made sense. Once she got to the part where she entered the house, she'd have to make things up. She was more worried about what Natasha thought-the spy would know if she was lying. She'd never been too gifted at even white lies. "Thor threw his hammer through the house, that's why it's all torn apart. Then it was like the spell lifted, but the guys debated for a while about whether or not it was safe to cross the line and enter the house. I figured the nausea and such couldn't be any worse that what I'd experienced in the past, and the worst case scenario seemed to be temporary. So I crossed the line."

"You did?" Sam and Natasha said this in unison.

"You shouldn't have done that," Sam added.

"I realize that now, and they had plenty to say about it too. But nothing happened. Oh, and by then Thor had gone inside. So he came back out and told everyone not to bother him, that this was a family matter and Loki was going to put the spell back up. He didn't notice me, and I was the only one on the side of the spell closer to the house. "Bruce and the others-" Here, Sam tuned out for a moment. The way she said Bruce made her sound like a starstruck child who was excited she lucked into playing with the big dogs. He tried to empathize with her, to remember how exciting everything had been at first. He could remember the excitement when a real life Avenger would do so much as walk by the door to the room he was in. Then she said something that snapped him back into the reality of expendable, worthless SHIELD agents. "Director Fury said that I didn't have to, but if I felt comfortable I could go inside the house and check it out."

"Did you?" Again, and likely for the last time, the two spoke together.

"I did."

"Are you insane? You shouldn't have done that!"

Natasha didn't like that he'd raised his voice, and made a hand gesture for him to pipe down. Even so, she found herself agreeing with him. When Fury had relayed the events of the day, he'd left out Darla's involvement in it all. That didn't seem like an accident.

"It's so obvious that Fury is manipulating you. Are you choosing not to see it? Or are you really just that stupid?"

She couldn't put her finger on it precisely. She hardly knew him, after all. She'd heard nothing about him before today-yet she didn't like him. His attitude, his demeanor. She tried not to be the type of person to make snap judgments, but he was giving her no choice. She was being perfectly cordial, even friendly in the face of his angst and vendettas that had nothing to do with her personally. Why couldn't he show her an ounce of respect? She waited until he'd swallowed his girlish, dainty sip of coffee and said, "I'm not stupid."

Natasha looked at her, pleased.

"If you can't see what's happening right in front of you," Sam said, "then yes, you are."

"You don't know the situation better than I do. You can't. You weren't there."

"You could have died! Then Fury would have put another poor soul in your place."

"That may be, but either way, you have no right to speak to me like that. I'd like an apology."

Sam, spiteful, forced a laugh. "You'll see."

This struck a nerve with Natasha. "I hope you mean that she'll see an apology."

"Why? You brought her along with you to try and make me feel bad. To try and make me miss my old job and beg for it back."

"That's where you're wrong, Sam. You're far too emotional to make an effective SHIELD agent. Especially after all that happened."

He stood and pushed his mug in toward the wall. The coffee inside it spilled over the edge in a wave. "Now you're blaming me for having feelings?"

Natasha pointed right at his nose. "I'm blaming you for not having control over them. I would never claim that what Fury did to you was right. It was heinous."

"And yet you're still his bitch."

When she slapped him, it happened so fast that the other patrons weren't sure what happened when they turned to look. Most shrugged and returned to their scones. Sam hadn't been given time to prepare or react, so he stood still as a statue as the sting seared through his cheek. Darla had seen it clear as day, and it had still been like watching a scene in fast forward. She wanted to smile, but fought it.

"Now who's the emotional one?" He said.

"Sam. If you wanna burn this bridge, go right ahead. Doesn't feel like much of a loss for me. After what I've seen today? Hell, I'll give you the matches. Before you do, though, I want you to know that the pain you feel is justified. You need to understand that I am not the enemy here. I didn't have to give you any answers."

"Let me guess, Nat. At the end of this, I'll beg you to let me come to that party of yours."

"No. I'm revoking your invitation. You're not ready. You might not ever be ready."

"To party with you and your famous friends?"

"No, numb nuts. To come back to work."

"Who said anything about-"

"Other jobs won't satisfy you anymore. Trust me. Hate me in this moment, call me a bitch again, I don't care. When everything settles, you'll be praying for a way back in."

Sam took a couple of steps away. "You know what? I would rather be emotional than a robot. And honestly? If you didn't notice that in me to begin with, then the fault is really on you."

"If I'd had more time to teach you, I could've-"

"Why would I want to learn anything from you?"

Darla scowled at this. "She's the best there is."

Sam closed the distance he'd put between himself and the table. "You don't know a damn thing about her! About her past."

He looked at ever-stoic Natasha. She said, "What do you know about my past?"

"Should I tell her some things?"

In one swift movement, Natasha kicked him so that he fell into a sitting position in the booth. His head thumped against the wall and he blinked again and again until she said, "Darla, go wait in the car," and threw her the keys. The shorter of the two redheads saw herself out and Natasha slipped into the booth next to him.

Sam, by all accounts, wasn't stupid. Still, he hadn't learned. "Worried that if I tell her even the little bit that I know, she'll-"

Natasha put a decisive hand on his chest and pushed him into the wall. He fought against it, but couldn't budge despite only her fingertips in his way. "Don't think that because you don't work for me anymore you can say whatever hurtful thing pops into your head first. If you know even a slice of my past-and I'm curious, do you? Do you really?"

"I've heard some things," he said, and his voice was less confident now.

"Right. Rumors?"

"Yes."

"Well if there's even a shred of truth to any of them," she pressed her fingers into his sternum before releasing him, "then you should know better than to fuck with me." She stared him down until he broke eye contact and then left him with the bill.

In the car, Darla was wondering what had come over herself. She couldn't remember the last time she'd spoken to someone like that, let alone a total stranger. There was no doubt that he'd deserved everything, up to and including the lightning-quick slap. Then she started wondering what Fury had done that was so heinous. She was too sheepish to ask, having seemingly used up her assertiveness for the day. The memory of her solid, unwavering voice brought her a great deal of joy. By the time they got back to Headquarters, she was smiling inside and out, replaying the scene over and over.

As she walked through the building, making her way to the lab, her enthusiasm started to ebb. Natasha had hardly said anything to her after the encounter, no praise or otherwise, and parted ways with her seconds into the building. She thought about the complicated relationship Natasha and Sam had. It seemed even more mysterious with missing details, and his apparent connection to Eve. These were all questions Darla didn't feel like she was allowed to ask. She recalled that their only reason for the outing was to convince Sam to attend the party. That didn't happen. Was it Darla's fault? She hardly ever let herself enjoy anything before she was on to overthinking. Had Natasha asked her to leave because she was speaking out of turn? She thought she'd seen a glimmer of pride on the Widow's face when she'd stood up to him. Maybe it was simply that Natasha was starting to realize Darla didn't belong.

Bruce looked up from his work when she walked into the lab. A man without such steady hands may have dropped the tools he was working with. Mainly because he'd been wondering where she was. If she'd been given another assignment or chosen not to come back. He'd assumed one thing correctly-that she had come to find him that morning and he wasn't there. When she came in, his worries dissipated.

"Give me a second," he said as he finished up tweaking the robotic something-or-other on his table. She stood in quiet patience until he was finished. He tapped the tabletop touchscreen and the project was swallowed up into it, soon hidden underneath a panel and leaving the surface looking normal again. "What were you up to this morning?"

"Agent Romanoff needed my help with something. I guess she didn't really need me there, she'd come looking for you."

He laughed like that was a joke, then noted her face. "Oh! I severely doubt that."

"Why?"

"Our strengths don't interact too often. I would never ask for her help with, say, a robotics quandary. Oh, that sorta sounds like I'm calling her stupid. Not what I mean. She probably wouldn't have asked for my help with whatever she took you to do. Unless there was literally no one else around. Alright, okay, here-what was the thing she needed help with?"

"Uh," Darla hesitated. Natasha hadn't told her not to tell anyone, but she still wasn't sure if it was permitted.

"Do you wanna see my security credentials?" Bruce laughed, but she didn't. He scrunched his mouth to one side of his face. "Uh, I can go get them." Still nothing from her. "I really, actually can if you want-they're in my office."

She cracked a smile finally. "No, that's okay." She still didn't want to tell him.

"Are you alright?"

Impulsively, she said, "What were you doing this morning?"

"I went to get us breakfast," he said. "Got there and realized I didn't really know what you liked, so I picked up a bunch of stuff. Then you weren't here, so I gave it to Marista and her team so it wouldn't get cold."

"I'm sorry! I didn't know you were gonna do that. I mean, Natasha pulled me away anyway, but-wow, that was nice of you, thanks."

"I felt kind of silly, honestly. When you didn't show up for a bit I thought I'd scared you off."

"I should've left a note, I'm sorry."

"That's not what I meant! It's not your fault. But, for next time, here's my number." He handed her a business card. It was shaped like a business card, anyway, but his cell number was scrawled on it in ballpoint pen. "Just so I don't worry."

She put the card in her pocket and smiled. "I wanna tell you what we did this morning, but I'm not sure I'm allowed to."

"Did Natasha tell you not to tell anyone?"

"No, but-"

"Well, I don't wanna make you uncomfortable, so you don't have to."

"I want to tell you. I mean, I actually would really like to talk about it."

"Is there someone else you'd rather talk to? You can go, I mean, I don't want to make you think you're obligated to be here. You're not. Of course not. You're free to go whenever."

He would've kept going on like that if she hadn't cut him off. "Bruce, no, I want to talk to you. I just don't know if I'm allowed."

His warm smile was back. "How about this? You tell me all about it, and I won't say a word to anyone. Promise."

She scurried around the table and sat down next to him. "We went to see this guy Sam, he used to have my job or something I guess. But now that doesn't totally make sense because why would a surveillance agent be so disgruntled?"

"Well first off-I was right. Natasha wasn't looking for me." He regretted saying this out loud immediately. Darla got a look on her face like he'd confirmed the theory in her head-that she'd been used. "He was, eh, disgruntled?"

"Completely. Natasha said Fury did something to him...something heinous."

"He did." Again, he regretted saying anything and bit his tongue. He was distracted by how she'd said she wanted to talk to him, and wanted to open up to her as well. She didn't seem like the type to use any knowledge she gained from him for evil. Then again, he had to think, she was a loyal person. Loyal to Fury.

She looked to him expectantly, but didn't ask. "He warned me to be careful of Fury. He called me stupid."

"Stupid? He said that? Why?"

"Because of how I crossed the line at Eve's house. And because I went inside."

Bruce thought about this for a second before scooting his chair closer to her. The metal legs made a horrible screeching sound on the hard lab floor. Neither of them addressed it. "You're not stupid," he assured her and put his hand on her shoulder. He wanted to make sure his next point was abundantly clear. "You're also not a super soldier or a demigod."

She put her hand on his wrist and pushed it away from her body. His arm hung in the air next to her before returning to his side. "You agree with him."

"Only in the broadest of terms, alright? His approach was wrong. He's spiteful. But he was telling the truth about Fury. That man can sometimes forget about individual people while he's looking at the bigger picture."

Darla was hurt. "I should have kept this to myself." She stood up.

"Hold on." He stood with her and held her arms below the shoulders. His grip was solid but gentle. "I admire you for taking risks. I get that you were trying to impress him, and there's nothing wrong with that. You seem like you might have a tendency to be too trusting."

"It didn't take long for this to turn into a rundown of my flaws."

His hands shot up to her cheeks. He couldn't help it. He'd never seen her angry before, and it wasn't even that. She was mildly flustered and pouting and the most innocent thing he'd ever seen. "I don't want anything bad to happen to you. That's why I'm not scared to tell you the truth."

Her gaze softened considerably and her right arm twitched, wanting to touch him back. The skin under his fingertips was sparking, fizzling like a freshly opened soda. She reached up and touched his wrist under his sleeve. His smile faded into a trance-like expression, bubbling with curiosity and surprise. It happened just like in the movies. Their surroundings fell away and their bodies were the only two things in the universe. Then, just like in the movies, they were interrupted.

Elsewhere

Eve was standing in the married couple's bedroom doorway, an impatient Loki hovering in the hall. He kept wanting to push her again, get her to act, but the moment he sighed and opened his mouth she shot him a stern look that would've put lesser men in their place. When he chose not to speak - not because he was beneath her, because he clearly wasn't, but more because he was interested in what she would do - she turned her attention back to the bedroom. Her brow furrowed and she lifted a hand to her chin, tapping a finger against her lower lip. The gears in her mind were turning, formulating a plan. Either that or she was stalling. Neither option would have surprised him, though the way she'd marched back to their room with such assertion had had him sure she'd start smashing lamps and screaming until they fled the bed in sheer terror.

She turned to him. "Get rid of the husband."

Her tone was so grave that he raised his eyebrows, thinking she'd asked him to kill the man. "What?"

"Just move him to another room for now."

Though he wanted so badly to question her, Loki levitated Dana out of bed and floated him into the hallway without a word. The man's body was still curled up in sleep, totally undisturbed. Loki set him on the kitchen island, where he moved to adjust his position but otherwise continued to rest. "Interesting to split them up like this," he commented, curious as to where she was going.

"Can you make me look like a ghost?"

"Sort of a spectre? An apparition?"

"Yes, but not scary necessarily. Not threatening."

"Not threatening."

"Right."

"I can do it, but, wouldn't you rather be threatening? Scary?"

"No. Make it clear that I'm a ghost, but, decidedly friendly."

"I have to object, I think. It's like asking to be a snake without fangs."

"Would you just do it? And I won't be needing your input any longer."

He sighed and cast the spell. She felt a tingle wash over her body. She held up her arm in front of her, and could see… nothing. Her arm was the same as it was a moment ago. Fleshy and boring.

"I don't feel very spooky," she said, turning her arm to look at her palm. She wiggled her fingers for emphasis.

"Friendly ghosts aren't 'very spooky' to begin with." Loki crossed his arms over his chest. "I doubt there are friendly ghosts."

"Alright firstly, I pity you for having never seen Casper. Secondly, you know what I mean. Being able to actually see myself as a ghost would help me get into character."

"You can already do that."

"Get into character?"

"No. See the illusion."

"What?" She turned to look at him incredulously.

"Even if I had said that in another language, you still should have been able to understand me."

"You're an ass. What do you mean I can already see the illusion? How?" She waved her hand in front of her own face, instantly feeling ridiculous and all the more frustrated for it.

"You have the Sight," Loki said, as if it were obvious. Eve frowned at him. This wasn't news to her. "You have the ability to see through the illusions, but you also have the choice to see it as others do. Decide you want to see it. Then you just blink."

"Just blink?"

"Is there an echo in here?"

"Shut up. That's it?"

"That's it."

Eve rolled her eyes and, quiet but still audible, mocked, "Is there an echo in here?" Loki narrowed his eyes at her but said nothing.

"Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"I've had the Sight for so long, I didn't think of it. Besides-you're lucky I've bestowed any powers on you at all. Not my duty to teach you how to use them as well."

"Perhaps not, but would it have killed you to teach me this before I was walking around naked?"

"No, but I've enjoyed that quite a bit." He smirked and made no effort to be discreet about his gaze dropping to her chest.

She looked down at herself. She could see the green swimsuit he'd put on her, so she grazed her fingers on the strap. She could feel it. "Wait-"

"The swimsuit is real, I stole it from a closet."

"Whatever," she grumbled, then turned back to the room. She approached the foot of the bed. Stepping away from Loki allowed for better concentration right away. She blinked. Nothing changed. She felt ridiculous, but tried again. When she blinked this time, she imagined flipping a switch. She looked down at herself again and smiled. Her skin shimmered a sickly green at first until it faded into seafoam translucence. She lifted her hand once more and a saw a glimmer of the bed beyond it, the image warped in her appendage. Fueled by this new revelation, she crawled into bed next to the wife and whispered, "Don't be scared."

Dana's sleeping form stiffened at the sound, her subconscious already knowing the presence next to her wasn't her husband. Once she awoke, she rolled over slowly and her eyes opened wide with fright. Eve covered her mouth before she could scream. "I don't want to hurt you. I'm not going to hurt you. Your husband is okay, he went to get something from the kitchen. I wanted to talk to you while he was gone. We don't have a lot of time." She could feel Dana's lips fighting against her hand, warping and grunting and scraping her teeth on a barrier she herself couldn't feel. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not. I'm not. Can we talk?" The wife refused to calm herself, so Eve turned to Loki, who was still invisible in the hallway. Eve thought, Calm her down a bit.

Loki didn't see the point to this, but soothed the woman anyway. Her breath evened out, and Eve removed her hand from her face.

"What are you? Who are you?"

"I'm the nicest ghost in this house."

Loki rolled his eyes and sank down so a sitting position against the wall. He thought, This is pointless.

"Are you happy?" Eve asked.

Dana was having trouble with the way she looked. Her eyes kept darting from her softly glowing eyes to her glistening hair. She didn't emit light, not necessarily, it was more of an aura. "Right now?"

"In general. With your husband. In this house. Are you happy?"

"I wouldn't be happy if I were married to that oaf," Loki mumbled. Eve heard but ignored him.

"No." Dana's fear made her honest. Her eyes welled up with frightened tears.

"You need to leave, then."

"The house? Oh god, of course, after this? We have to leave!"

"No, honey," Eve said. "Not we. You need to go without him."

"Dana? I can't! He's my husband!"

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep, calming, breath. The woman was astonishingly dim. She made Volstagg look like a scholar.

"You admitted seconds ago that you weren't happy with him. Did you lie to me?" Eve inserted an ounce of upset into her voice. The girl on the other side of the bed quivered.

"No! I didn't! I just-I don't know how to go on without him."

"Oh come on," Loki sighed. "She can't be serious."

"You'll figure it out," Eve assured, now struggling to ignore Loki's cynical remarks. "It'll be hard, but-he's got a lot of money, right?"

"We do, yes."

"Divorce him and keep a chunk of it. Don't waste it all right away and you can live a good life. Maybe a more modest life…"

Dana pulled the comforter up to her chin and broke eye contact. "I'm used to all this stuff. I know it's silly. I know, I know, but I can't imagine a life without it."

"What are you doing? Where on earth is this going?" Loki asked from the peanut gallery. "Are you planning on scaring her by having a heart-to-heart? She's supposed to realize that what's inside her own head is scariest of all? I mean, feelings are dreadful, but-"

"Shut up and let me work!" Eve snapped, abruptly sitting up and wrenching her torso around to glare at Loki. He was fidgeting his feet against the carpet and barely reacted to finally getting a rise out of her. Dana made a muted squeak of a sound. The fear she felt barely reached the surface before the spell did its job and soothed her.

"Who are you talking to?" Her watery eyes darted around the room as she sat herself up as well, looking for any sign of another presence. Loki, with his head resting in his palm, lazily pushed a decorative crystal vase off of a table next to him. It shattered the second it hit the floor and soaked now homeless flowers in the tepid water that had once given them life. Dana's eyes nearly popped out of her skull. Eve, on the other hand, growled at him. Loki bit his lip, finding the primal sound a tad alluring.

"Just one of the more unintelligent ghosts in the house. Quick to anger. Pay him no mind." She looked away from him and added, "I certainly don't." His face fell a bit as he looked away from the scene, defiantly kicking shards of glass with the toe of his shoe. He stood, no longer bored-but still not having much fun. "Anyway, honey, look at me." Eve lifted her chin with two fingers so their eyes were aligned again. "You know this stuff isn't what's important. Leave it all behind. You'll feel much better. Think about it."

Dana wasn't sure how to respond. As she looked at the ghastly figure lying beside her in bed, all she could think about was why she wasn't scared out of her mind. She had been, minutes ago, but now she felt calm. It wasn't natural. She had no idea Loki was behind her serenity, and thought it an omen instead. "I trust you," she said, "I'm not sure why."

Eve smiled warmly, which must have looked odd on her cool, green lips. She didn't really care about the problems this upper class couple were facing. She was happy because she'd managed not to let Loki boss her around. She was doing this her own way-and he would have to sit and wait while she did.

Then Dana said something that got under her skin. "I guess my husband isn't so bad."

Eve's smile turned sour in an instant. Bluntly, she said, "Excuse me? That guy is a disaster. He treats you like an object! He's got no respect for you!"

Dana angled herself away from what she'd thought, until that moment, was a kind spirit. "Yeah, but, it's not all bad, though. Things are good...sometimes."

"Don't be such a weakling."

Loki's ears perked up.

"W-what?" Dana's fight-or-flight response was being suffocated by the demigod's calming spell. Still, her forehead creased and her fingers tensed.

"That man doesn't care about you. You're nothing more than an accessory to him! I've been watching." At the devious tone in Eve's voice, Loki made his way to the door frame to observe more closely-in time to witness Eve getting out of bed and dragging the comforter onto the floor at her feet. "I can prove it to you. Come with me."

"I...uh…"

Eve turned to the doorway and said, "I don't care if she's calm anymore."

Loki kept eye contact with Eve as he lifted the spell. Her eyes lingered on him as the wife's breath quickened and she let out a tortured, escalating shriek.

"Right," Eve said. "Let me repeat myself. I can prove it to you. Come with me. And be quiet."

Dana, whimpering, followed her to the kitchen. At the sight of her husband curled up on the island, she gasped and tried to run to him.

Eve held her back with a firm hand, pushing her into the counter and impressing on her with a glare to stay put. "He's sleeping. I'm not going to hurt him. Just watch."

"He didn't wake up when I screamed! He must be hurt! You're not a nice ghost at all, are you? Is there even such a thing?"

"Nope," Loki sounded off with a chuckle.

"Hush. Oh, and before I do this, I want you to know I tried talking to him last night. I warned him to grab you and go but he didn't listen."

"He… he what?" Dana stared at Eve wide-eyed, as if that were the most unusual thing she'd heard since the conversation started. Then, as the weight of Eve's lie sunk in, her confusion turned to anger. "He what?!"

"Pay attention."

Eve tapped on the husband's forehead forcefully, only once with a thwack, and he stirred. At first he was more confused about why he was waking up in the kitchen, let alone on the island and not passed out drunk on the floor. Then he noticed the illusion. Eve in spectral glory. A projection. A phantom. He screamed. She pointed to the front door.

"Leave this place."

She didn't demand it or screech or howl it like a banshee would. In fact, she almost sounded bored. She thought this would illustrate her point more clearly. Just as she'd suspected would happen, the husband scrambled off of the slippery marble surface and landed unevenly on his feet. He sprinted, probably the fastest he'd ever ran in his life, out the front door. They heard his car start and speed off.

Eve turned back to the wife, whose brow was furrowed now into a confused arch. "Honey, he didn't even check to make sure you were okay. There's your answer."

"He really just...up and left without me…"

"And I hardly did anything. I mean, you saw that right?" Eve couldn't hold back her amusement and a chuckle slipped out of her lungs. The husband had looked like such a fool.

Dana, who would find time to hurt later, found it in herself at that moment to laugh. "That was pathetic."

"Right. So, moral of the story: your husband is an idiot who doesn't deserve you, and you have to leave tonight. Now."

"He left of his own accord, why do I have to go too?"

"Because the next spirit that asks you to leave won't be so kind. And I won't protect you. Because I've already warned you. You can stay, just know that your fate is in your own hands."

For effect, Loki sent a chill through the room, a swift breeze that rustled the valances over the sink. Dana shivered and bolted to gather her phone and pack a suitcase.

"I would hurry," Eve called from the kitchen, eager to have this all over with, and soon enough Dana was out the door which had been left wide open by her husband. Her car started, and that was that.

Loki walked to shut the door and lock it. Eve turned on the overhead lights. The bewitching glow faded off of her skin.

"That was a wonderful performance," Loki said when he came back to meet her, smiling, amused. She was perusing the fridge. "Not quite as theatrical as I might have done, but certainly more personal. I knew you had it in you."

Eve was quiet.

"Was that your plan all along or were you playing it by ear?"

"I was improvising."

"Impressive. Understated. It really had a build to it. A narrative, if you will. A crescendo."

"I wasn't trying to impress you, Loki."

"Even better, because you certainly did. Even with me in the background trying to break your act up. You managed to use my antics against me and twist them to fit your own vision." He laughed from his stomach. "My word, your passion!" This was possibly the most excited he'd been in some time.

She grabbed a carton of lemonade and poured herself a glass. "I'm going to bed."

"Which room should be ours?" Loki asked, suddenly psyched to play house.

"Ours?" She returned the carton. "You can take whatever room you like, just make sure I'm not in it."

Loki laughed. "Don't be like that. You know this was fun."

"Loki. I don't get a kick out of fucking with people. These were real people with real problems and...look, I'm glad we have a place. But I don't know if I'll ever feel good about stealing it. I have a conscience."

She thought, in vain, that this might be enough to earn some alone time. Sasha walked alongside her to the upstairs bedroom she wanted, and Loki followed close behind. He watched her get settled and took a few steps into the room, toward the other side of the bed.

"I'm not joking," Eve said. "I'm not being melodramatic. I want to be alone."

"Fine," he said, disappointment owning the word and soon selling it to gloom.

When his back hit the doorway, he turned his head alone to look back at her. Sasha was curled up in the place he felt he should be sleeping. "You know," she said, "you want this version of me who's angry. Decisive. Willing to break the rules."

"I do," he said.

"I think there's something you're not considering."

"What's that?"

"Maybe that girl doesn't like you," she said, and clicked off the light.

A/N:

Well! It's been two months so I hope you guys enjoy the longest addition I've ever written :D Need to give a HUGE MASSIVE shout out to ShellySadistic, who helped put some life into this chapter when it was feeling pretty dull. Another thing. This story has officially hit 100,000 views! That's amazing to me and I can't thank you guys enough!