Chapter 2! More aliens! And let me just say: I'm so frustrated with this chapter xD not necessarily because it's terrible, but because I have rewritten it three times. The first two ended up in the 'this would absolutely never-ever-seriously-never-happen category. I hope this one is somewhat plausible, though.

Also, I'm kinda sick of the aliens. They won't be around for long, thankfully.
Anyway! I'll try to not have rambling author's notes in the future. Now, on with the story!
Disclaimer (which I forgot in the former chapter) I don't own anything! I'm just playing in Marvel's sandbox. It's a lovely sandbox.

Oh, and reviews make me happy as a clam!

-o-

Chapter 2 – Sass and Sarcasm

The aliens were squishier than previously thought, something Amber realised when she managed to take down an alien with one well-aimed shot.

Still, though, there were many of them, and she had to be careful. She was alone, and would be in big trouble if faced with more than one of them. Defense was the best offense in this situation.

She managed rather well, though. She moved through the streets as stealthy as possible, taking out aliens one by one when she saw an opening for a well-aimed shot.

She tried her best to help people along the way as well. People were wounded, and she did whatever she could for them before moving on.

-o-

She was running - surprise, surprise - in terror this time. She had narrowly avoided a horde of ruddy aliens, and was now trying her best to not get killed by a stray shot, falling rocks, or something equally idiotic.

The whole 'defense is the best offense' approach had worked out perfectly fine until now, but that came to an abrupt end when she ran through a side street, something that turned out to be a stupid decision.

It was already too late when she heard the screams, and saw the flash of blue light, because just as she realised people were running, she slammed into something solid, and instantly recoiled.

Amber gasped when she realised what she had just done – who she had just run into – and her reaction was to freeze up, which was not a particularly good idea.

The God of Mischief was standing there, and he had the staff-sceptre-thing aimed at her in a flash, making her realise she had no time to run, no time to draw her weapon (not that it would do any good, but it would have made her feel better, if nothing else).

Basically, it was too late, and when a pair of piercing blue eyes fixed on her, Amber knew she was going to die.

But that was when he recognised her. His blue eyes widened, and Amber had no idea what was happening, nor what to do.

"Hello again," she heard herself say, because apparently, for some inexplicable reason, her brain had decided that talking was a good idea. She tended to do this in situations like these. Lovely.

"So," she continued, inwardly yelling at herself for being this idiotic, and for not being able to stop herself. "Do you come here often?"

Oh god, what was she doing? What the hell was she doing? If there had been a slight chance of surviving this, it was surely gone now.

Loki stared at her for another long moment, obviously surprised by the development of this situation. So was Amber, quite frankly.

The surprise in his expression vanished, and Amber realised he was looking slightly amused. The amusement faded quickly as well, however, and his expression turned dark.

Yup, she was going to die.

But then, something changed. Something major. She sucked in a breath as she watched him squeeze his eyes shut for a moment before opening them again.

Green eyes met hers, and he spoke through clenched teeth.

"Run."

She ran.

-o-

Amber ran until she was out of breath, and then she hid, because she really needed to gather her thoughts.

He had done it again. He had let her run. Why? Why would he let her run? From the bits and pieces of information she had heard, Loki was the one who was running the show. He was the one controlling the alien invasion, fully intent on taking over the world, apparently.

So why did he allow her to run? Not just once, but twice now. It made no sense whatsoever. And the whole blue-eyes-green-eyes thing…there was something terribly wrong there.

Generally, everything was terribly wrong, because alien invasions sucked. Big time. Amber just hoped it would end soon. With the aliens as the losing team, preferably.

She wondered what would happen if the aliens won. Nothing good - she was quite certain about that. And what of Loki? What would he do if he managed to win? Declare himself 'King of the World'?

Well, it would be 'King of New York' at first. Not nearly as epic. It really had more of a Frank Sinatra-feel to it.

That was when she realised...he would never win, now would he? The attack on New York had come more or less completely out of the blue – literally out of the blue - and the city had been quite unprepared for the hole that opened in the sky, and the alien invasion that followed.

And yet - the aliens had not won – Loki had not won – even with the advantage of catching their enemy off guard. It didn't necessarily mean they wouldn't win, but New York was just one city. How could they achieve world domination if they couldn't manage one city?

Even if they did take New York, the rest of the world would be ready to fight by time they were finished here. If the aliens were to succeed – if Loki was to succeed – they would have to do better than this. They would need quite the army, and if they should somehow manage to actually take over the world, said army needed to stay on earth afterwards. Humankind would not succumb easily. And they would never accept permanent defeat. There would be resistance everywhere.

And at some point – perhaps even soon – someone would bring out the big guns. Atomic bombs.

Humankind would destroy themselves and the world they lived in before they bowed down and gave up their free will.

Amber remembered Loki's little speech. "Is not this simpler? Is this not your natural state? It's the unspoken truth of humanity, that you crave subjugation. The bright lure of freedom diminishes your life's joy in a mad scramble for power, for identity. You were made to be ruled. In the end, you will always kneel."

He had no idea of how terribly wrong he was. Or had he? The more she thought about it, the more she felt as if something was off. Loki was supposed to be clever, wasn't he? He was the god of mischief – the trickster – and was supposed to be cunning, clever – always with a trick up his sleeve. Generally, he was supposed to be good at what he did. Every move he made was deliberate, always an agenda behind everything, always looking for a way to exploit the situation, or gain something, somehow.

So what was he doing, really? Because if he was the mastermind behind the scenes, what was he doing?

'King of the World'. It was naïve, really, to think that this was something he could achieve. She couldn't quite believe that Loki was naïve. He wouldn't make a very good trickster god if he was.

He could have underestimated humankind - that was a possible explanation. But underestimated them to that degree? That didn't sit well with her either.

If he was to pull off 'King of the World', he had to have one hell of a trick up his sleeve.

And if he didn't... Then there was something else going on, something major, most likely.

And she had a feeling it had something to do with that blue, glowing crystal.

-o-

She really had to stop running around in this particular area, because this was apparently Loki's area of choice as well, something she realised when she turned a corner, finding herself looking at the God of Mischief. The Severely Displeased God of Mischief, apparently.

"You shall aid me!"

The Severely Displeased God of Mischief was holding a man by the front of his shirt, and the man was obviously terrified. Which was the only rational response to his current predicament, quite frankly.

"I just work here," the man said in a shaky voice. "I can't enter the vault. The boss is the only one who can."

"The relic is not for you to keep!" Loki hissed, shaking the man a bit. "It was stolen, centuries ago! I shall reclaim it!"

"I just work here, man."

"Then you are useless to me," Loki drawled, and Amber watched as he raised the sceptre.

Amber reacted without thinking, and ran toward them. "No!"

Loki had the sceptre aimed at her within a second, and Amber froze, holding her hands up to show she wasn't armed.

"Please just let me go!"

Jesus, this man did not know when to shut up, because Loki's eyes narrowed in anger.

"Please, I have kids, man!"

Okay, so Amber had not expected Loki to react as he did. Because for just a brief moment, Loki's eyes widened, and then his expression hardened again. She decided this was the time to act.

"Let him go, and take me instead."

Loki narrowed his eyes as if he was trying to figure out what her agenda was. "Why would I do that when I could merely kill this man, and take you anyway?"

Amber was pretty sure her heart was about to beat its way out of her chest, but managed to open her mouth and speak. "Because if you do, I'll come willingly."

And if that wasn't just the most idiotic thing she had said in her entire life, she didn't know what was. She really didn't want to 'willingly' wander off into whatever it was - a museum, she realised - with the Angry God of Mischief. But if the man had kids... Amber didn't have any kids. And maybe, just maybe, she could survive this. Somehow.

Loki seemed to consider this for a moment, and then he released the grip on the man's shirt, pushing him away. "Run, if you know what is good for you."

The man didn't even glance at Amber, and she fought the urge to shout 'how about a thank you, asshole' as she watched him run. Well, if he had kids…

He better have kids, the prick, she thought just as Loki grabbed her by the arm.

"Come."

-o-

As they walked through the museum, Amber wondered what the hell she had gotten herself into, and if she actually could do whatever it was needed doing. What information did she have so far? A stolen relic, apparently located in a vault that only the boss could enter. Her mind filled with images from old movies, the ones where they used a stethoscope while turning the lock, listening for those small clicks when they hit the right numbers.

Well, if that was the case here, she was screwed. Hopefully that wasn't the case. She pictured herself with a stethoscope, twisting the lock in desperation while pretending to know what she was doing. The image in her mind was in a sepia kind of colour, and she almost chuckled. She probably would have, if not for the fact that the God of Chaos was walking next to her with a grim expression on his face.

"So, you need to get into the vault?"

He didn't even look at her. "Yes."

She fought the urge to say 'well, that's great! I totally have all the information I need now, thanks, Loki', and succeeded in not saying that, thankfully.

Why did she always do this? Why did her brain kick into 'sass and sarcasm' mode whenever she found herself in mortal peril? This was always how she reacted. Just as when she had asked the bloody God of Mischief, Fire and Chaos 'so, do you come here often?'

Her brain clearly had a death wish.

Although, it wasn't always a bad thing. Like the time she had been on her way home from work, and had been mugged. He had attempted to mug her, anyway.

She was working as an intern at a hospital at the time, and walked home, still wearing her scrubs because she had been too tired to change. She had been so tired that taking a shortcut through a dark and ominous alleyway had seemed like an excellent idea at the time.

She had been ambushed halfway through, because of course that had to happen, and had suddenly found herself cornered behind a dumpster by a man holding a knife.

The man had taken one look at her, and then laughed – brown teeth and all – before commenting on her lovely outfit, something she had thanked him for, and then told him 'a girl gotta look her best, you know'. He had laughed again, and tension had left his body, obviously seeing her as no threat at all.

After exchanging quips for a minute or two, the man had asked 'where's your wallet, sweetheart?', and she had told him truthfully that it was in her backpack. This was of course where he should have told her to actually give him her backpack, but he didn't. Instead, he gestured with his knife, telling her to 'be a darling and fetch it for me, will you?'

She had placed her backpack on the ground, opened it, and had of course not fetched her wallet. Instead, she had fetched a couple of marble-sized steel ball bearings, sent a silent thank you to her brother for being such a smug bastard once upon a time, and grabbed her slingshot. She had pulled back the latex band while moving to an upright position, and aimed directly at his face.

'If you move, I shoot,' she had told him while looking at him with cold eyes. 'And believe me when I say that you really don't want me to shoot.'

He had managed a forced laugh, asking her if she wasn't a little too old for toys, and she had given him a wicked smile and told him that 'I hunt deer with this exact slingshot. And believe me, I have killed deer with one shot from longer distances than this.

Well, it had been only that one time, and the shot had been more a strike of luck than anything else, but he didn't have to know that. It had also been the only time she had tried to hunt deer with a slingshot - or hunt at all, for that matter. She could buy meat at the grocery store. She didn't need to roam the forest in pursuit of Bambi's mum.

'Walk,' she had told him, and he had obliged. They had exited the alleyway, and Amber had been beyond relieved when there were actual people in the street. 'Excuse me, sir, but could you call the police?' she had asked a man passing by, and he had looked at her with wide eyes as he took in the situation.

A nurse with a slingshot, and a man with a knife. The man had probably realised what had happened, and even if he didn't - it was probably best to call the police anyway.

The sassy nurse with a slingshot. Yeah, people tended to underestimate her, and she couldn't really blame them.

-o-

They eventually reached the 'vault'. It was more of a rather sturdy metal door than the 'bank heist in sepia' thing she had pictured in her mind.

"Have you tried just blowing it up?" she heard herself ask. Great. Give the God of Mischief some tips, why don't you?

He gave her a look that told her exactly how much of an imbecile she was. "I know not where the relic is located. I would rather avoid destroying it."

"Ah. Yeah. Wouldn't want that," she said while mentally rolling her eyes at herself. She smiled nervously before turning her focus on the door. "It's a codelock."

"Is it, really? Well thank you kindly for informing me."

His voice was dripping with sarcasm, something that amused her in an 'I am terrified beyond belief' way.

"No problem," she quipped, and immediately wanted to slap herself. She should really stop getting sassy with the Norse god. Pretending like she hadn't just been all sarcastic, she continued. "If the director is the only one with the code, we should probably go to his office."

He huffed, but gestured for her to walk, and so she did.

She glanced at him while they walked "What if I can't help you?"

He gave her a dark look. "You have already sacrificed yourself in an oh-so-noble way for a man you do not know, and I suspect you would do the same again. If you will not aid me, I shall find someone who will. No matter what it takes."

She took a deep breath before speaking again. "I see. But…just tell me this - I know it won't change anything, but I would still like to know - is the relic something that will get a whole lot of people killed? I would like to know if the last thing I do in life is help the war effort - on the wrong side."

He raised an eyebrow. "And what if it is?"

Shrugging, she sighed. "Well, that would suck."

She could swear he looked amused, even if briefly. "That would suck?"

She shrugged again. "Yes. I am guessing you will get your hands on this thing - if not with my help, then someone else's. So I will help you get it. If I can. If this is something harmful that will get people killed… Well, at least I can spare the lives of those you 'recruit' to aid you." She paused for a moment. "So…is it?"

He raised an eyebrow again. "It is not."

For some reason, she believed him.

"All right, that's something, at least," she said just as they reached the director's office.

The door was locked, but Loki made quick work of it, practically shattering the lock with a flick of a hand.

They entered the office – a huge room, actually – and Amber moved toward the desk.

He stopped her by grabbing her arm. "Not so fast."

She stopped to look at him. "What?"

"How many weapons do you have on you, exactly?"

"Oh," she said, giving him a somewhat sheepish look. "A couple. I have weapons and medical supplies in my backpack, and on me."

He merely raised an eyebrow, and she just went ahead and shrugged off her backpack and jacket, placing them on a table next to her.

She was surprised when he actually picked up her jacket, where he of course found her gun, her knife, and then her slingshot - the latter made him give her a questioning look.

She raised an eyebrow. "What would you do if I came toward you with a slingshot?"

He smirked. "I would laugh."

She nodded. "People usually do that - right up to the point where they may or may not have a metal marble lodged in their brain."

His eyes widened in surprise as he looked at the slingshot, then back at her, and then there was an amused glimmer in his eyes.

"I see," he said, and put the slingshot with the rest of the items he had found. "Anything else I should know?"

She was standing there in her jeans and t shirt, and it was pretty clear that she didn't have any other weapons on her, so he made a dismissive gesture, and she moved over to the desk.

She sat down, turned on the computer, and rolled her eyes when the thing went directly to the desktop.

"Seriously?" she muttered. "No password?"

Loki came to stand behind her, something that wasn't just a little distracting. Very distracting, in fact.

"Let me just compliment you on your ability to intimidate me merely by standing upright," she said without looking at him. "Consider me impressed."

She was glad that he didn't see her face when she heard him chuckle. She made the God of Chaos laugh. Someone would come in any second now, to give her an award for 'most hilarious person in the entire world'. Also, she should consider a carrier in standup comedy.

It had the hoped effect, thankfully. The God of Mischief came to stand next to her instead of looming over her, which was slightly less intimidating, if nothing else.

After clicking around a bit, she found what she was looking for. "They have a form of intranet. Let's hope it's really advanced."

He was silent, and she glanced at him, finding him looking at her with a rather jaded expression.

Right. God. Not from around here.

"It connects all the computers around here," she said, not looking at him. "And hopefully the security measures."

"I see."

She rolled her eyes. "Jesus Christ," she muttered. "Internet Explorer."

"Is there a problem?"

She glanced at him, wide-eyed. "Oh. No. It's just…" She paused to gesture at the monitor. "I disapprove of their methods, and think they are all morons."

There was an amused glint in his eyes, proving yet again that Amber should consider a carrier in standup comedy.

"I need to get past the asterisks," she said to herself before looking at him. "Well, if the internet is still up and running, I'll have this thing done in a jiffy."

He gave her another jaded look. "You will have this done 'in a jiffy'."

Right. That whole 'not from around here'. She needed to remember that.

"I'll have this done…really fast," she said, lamely, before turning to the computer again.

-o-

"Hah," she said a while later, giving the monitor (and the list of passwords) a smug look. "In your face, museum's director."

"Why do I get the feeling you are rather enjoying yourself?"

Amber gave Loki a puzzled look, but then realised what she had just said. Who was she kidding – she was enjoying herself. She loved these kinds of challenges, and she may or may not have briefly forgotten about the whole 'mortal peril' thing.

She awkwardly pointed at the monitor. "I – well – I like puzzles."

He crossed his arms over his chest, shifted so his hip rested on the edge of the desk, and cocked his head. "Why are you not afraid?" he asked, and he was gazing at her in a way that made her want to squirm.

She laughed a little shakily. "Oh, I am. Terrified. I know the chances of me getting out of this alive are slim, so of course I'm terrified. I don't want to die, after all."

There was something in his eyes then, a flicker – and a responding flicker of hope in her.

She turned to the computer, looking at the passwords. "Oh, Jesus, really?"

"What?"

The museum's director is actually a moron. His password is 'CarlaSophie7982'."

"Why does that make him a moron?"

Amber raised an eyebrow. "He should have used random numbers and letters. Instead, he uses CarlaSophie, which is probably his two daughters, and 7982, which is probably their birth years. If I had done some googling – searching, I mean – I could have just bloody guessed it. It's typical. People don't remember their passwords, so they use names of loved ones, and important dates."

He glanced at the monitor before looking at her again. "Sentiment."

She nodded. "Exactly. This is why I could have guessed the 'top secret' passwords – the same passwords that allows me to change the code to the room of 'this is where we keep all our fragile, irreplaceable items'. All this because of sentiment. Ridiculous, isn't it?"

He was silent for a bit. "You find sentiment ridiculous?"

She shook her head. "Not at all. But there's a difference between sentiment and stupidity. Everything has its place, and adding sentiment to security is...stupidity." He just gazed at her, and she tried not to squirm as she turned to the computer again.

After successfully changing the code to the door, she smiled – God knows why, because successfully accomplishing this meant impending doom and probably death for her. "There we go."

He nodded, and she followed him to the not-at-all-secure-door, she typed the code, and the door clicked open.

He just stood there for a moment with his hand on the door handle, and Amber tried to remember how to breathe. Also – she tried to convince herself that death was probably completely painless, and she would be just fine.

But then, he turned to look at her, and she inhaled sharply when she saw his eyes. Green. They were green.

"You have precisely three minutes to get as far away from me as possible."

She stared at him for a moment, and then she did something – she didn't know why – she put a hand on his arm. "It is going to be all right," she said, not knowing why the hell she would say such a thing, and then she ran. First to the director's office to grab her things, and then away from the museum, away from him – to freedom.