A/N: This took... Way too long to update.
Loki supposed that for what it was, Stark Tower was satisfactory. It was luxurious as far as human dwellings went, but he couldn't fathom why the tower- and New York City itself- was considered a pinnacle of humanity's brilliance.
He strode into the penthouse expecting to be ambushed by whatever security measures its owner had taken. Stark, after all, was far from unintelligent. However, he was surprised to find it completely empty. He wrapped his hand tighter around the staff.
"Loki."
It was her. Hannah, the stupid mortal girl from Stuttgart, the one who swore she'd seen Asgard's skies with him in a past life, the one who managed to leave him speechless simply with her presence.
He calmly raised a brow at her, trying to ignore the knot in his throat. "Are you the best your heroes could send?"
"This is a trap," She rushed towards him from the doorway she'd been standing in. "They're trying to bait you with me."
"Yes, of course, but why are you telling me this?"
"To warn you."
He looked down at her. Her lip quivered slightly.
"I thought over what you said," She continued. "About how I'll always come back to you."
He raised a brow.
"And I think you're right. I couldn't stay away. I've just accepted that this is my fate."
The humans considered him the god of lies for a reason- he knew when people were less than truthful. However, this felt completely genuine. Maybe it was because it came from those plump, pink lips whose curve he was no stranger to.
"And you suppose I believe this?" He questioned, swallowing the knot in his throat. "That you had a sudden change of heart since we last met?"
He tried pushing past her, but the touch of her hand on his arm nearly burned him to his core.
"You couldn't doubt it yourself." Hannah was persistent. "You said it."
"Yes, to get you to free me." He rolled his eyes. "You are mortal. Human. I wouldn't dare insult my wife by comparing you to her."
"Why are you in denial?" She asked. "It's taken me so much to accept this. If I can, so can you."
Why was he in denial? Was it fear? Pride? If anything, he should be content with having his wife back at his side. So, why was he so hesitant when she was standing right in front of him?
"You said I'll always come back to you." Her eyes searched his face. "Well, here I am."
Her hand, small and delicate, was still wrapped around his arm. He looked down at it. Slowly, she let go and lowered her hand.
"And if I am to believe this," He started lowly, skeptically. "That you're betraying your… Friends to warn me, how do you suppose to proceed from here?"
"They're not my friends. They kept me pretty much captive because SHIELD wanted to monitor me."
"Answer the question."
He almost instinctively tightened his grip around the staff he'd been holding in his hand upon hearing her. Her eyes shifted towards the movement.
"I go with you." Her own hands were balled tightly at her sides. "I don't know what you're planning to do, but I'll be there."
"Hmm."
He reached out to cup her jaw with his free hand, and tilted her head back to get her to look directly at him. Those crystal eyes suddenly went wide with fear. The way her breath hitched in her throat might have been imperceptible to another, but he knew the exact way her body worked. Delicately, as if feeling the petals of a flower, he ran his thumb over the bow of her lips. A visible shiver went through her.
"Being here out of your own volition," He said softly. "Is something I find difficult to believe. The only reason I've yet to kill you is because I still believe, for whatever reason, that you're my wife." Her pulse raced beneath his fingers. "Make of that what you will."
She was Sigyn. She wouldn't work against him; she was loyal only to him. He knew, in the end, that she would be with him. But though she was Sigyn, she also was not. Hannah was her own person with free will. Her looks, her powers, her eerie memories- all trivial things. Perhaps they were meant to embed her in the fabric of fate, but they did nothing for her own ability to think and reason. She would never be his again truly. In body and spirit, maybe, but never in mind. Her fealty was only conditional.
He was not a man of impulses. He knew himself to be rational, aloof, always thinking ahead. It was his way of differentiating himself from his brother. This very cold logic should have kept him from grazing his lips over hers, the very thing he'd ached to do since seeing her through the glass of the holding cell. Her entire body went rigid, then slack, and finally dominant; she kissed him back with as much desperation as he had repression. She was all of a sudden foreign and familiar, and it was through her lips that Sigyn of Vanaheim and Hannah of Earth converged, but only by so much. He broke away first, pulling apart from her almost abruptly, and let go of her. The absence of her pulse beneath his fingers was immense.
Hannah stood where she was, lips parted, pupils dilated, and hands awkwardly hanging by her sides as if she weren't sure of their use. She swallowed heavily. Her eyes were glistening with tears.
"And you said you'd kill me." Her voice wavered. "I honestly wish you had."
Before he could say anything, one of the doors leading to another room of the penthouse slid open with a metallic hiss. Out stepped Tony Stark himself, sans the armor he prided himself on, with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his slacks.
"Okay, that was not part of the script." Stark announced, strolling into the living room as if he owned it. "But, wow, that performance deserved an Oscar, Hannah. I mean, hell, just touching Reindeer Games should earn you a nomination."
"You-" Loki turned towards Hannah, but Stark cut him off.
"She," The other man calmly held up a hand. "Tried to warn you. You just couldn't let your pride go for one second, could you? Happens to the best of us." He made his way towards the bar counter on the far side of the room. "Now, would you like a drink?"
A/N: I listened to Point of No Return from Phantom of the Opera whilst writing this. Also, please review!