Author's Note: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP! I've had WAY WAY WAY too much fun writing this! It makes me so happy. This is the rewind, so essentially this is where it all starts - sort of. Squeak! This is so much fun. The great thing about this character is I don't have to tailor the way I write for a character's voice. I'm experimenting with using my own voice. Easily distracted and all.

Disclaimer (as usual): I own nothing OUAT or Avengers.

Callie and I shared a floor in Avengers Tower. The whole thing was big enough for eight two-bedroom apartments—and it was just the two of us with a wall down the center. We had plenty of room. The wall was thick enough that we couldn't hear the other unless we had the music up to deafening levels—which neither of us was too fond of because we were both too fond of our hearing.

As it was, I had my Classic Rock music—Styx—up way too loud. Dancing around my half of the floor and singing as loud as I could because I knew Callie wouldn't mind, because like as not she probably couldn't hear me.

My music shut off for a moment so the doorbell could buzz from the speakers before resuming. I hit pause on my iPod Touch and went over to the door.

"Callie!" I exclaimed happily when I opened it to her "sarcastically amused" face. Her boyfriend Steve—yes, the Steve Rogers as in Captain America—was standing behind her. He gave me a little wave with one of his mischievous grins. After crushing on him immensely (but nothing more I promise) before I knew he and my friend were in a relationship, his and mine had lapsed into completely platonic and honestly I was glad it did. He was great, but sometimes it was better to have an older brother than a boyfriend—don't tell Callie I said that. "Is my music up too loud?"

"What? No. I didn't even know you were listening to music," she replied. You see why I don't mind sharing a floor? Apart from having the best neighbors ever, I had the best floormate. And they weren't just neighbors. They were family. I looked on Bruce, Tony, Clint, and even Thor as uncles. Steve was like a brother. Natasha was the nice older sister I always wanted—and so was Callie. Pepper was an aunt to me.

"Then what's that face for?" I asked.

"What face?"

"That what-the-heck-are-you-doing-this-time-Cass face," I retorted.

"No, this is my Tony's-been-trying-to-get-a-hold-of-you-via-intercom-and-you-haven't-heard-him face," she snapped teasingly.

My shoulders slouched. "Oh," I muttered. "What does he want?"

"We're having a family night up on the balcony floor. Movies, popcorn, music, you know. A little Avengers party."

I loved little Avengers parties. We would play Apples to Apples and charades and Uno and dance and watch Netflix until three in the morning—by which point Callie was usually asleep with her head in Steve's lap and I usually ended up sprawled out on the counter somehow with my face in a popcorn bowl. Yeah… don't ask.

"Okay. I'm gonna take a shower and get in my jammies," I said. For those of you unfamiliar with my terms, "jammies" mean pajamas—or pyjamas if you're British. Is that British? I think it's British. Sorry. Didn't mean to get sidetracked.

Callie and Steve shrugged and proceeded back to her half of the floor. I suspected they'd come out with messy hair and Callie's lip gloss would be all over Steve's face.

Don't tell Callie I said that.

"You're just too good to be true… can't take my eyes off of you…" John Barrowman's CD was singing from the stereo in the corner when I stepped out of the elevator in satin jammies, wet golden-brown hair freshly braided—with some help from Callie because I can't see what I'm doing—and my summer bathrobe. My winter one was thick and fleecy, but my summer one was light. The others were mostly in their pajamas too. Steve in a T-shirt and flannels, Clint and Tony in a tank top and basketball shorts, Bruce in a plaid pajama set with a pen sticking out of the chest pocket, Thor in a light, red tunic and linen trousers, Natasha in leggings and a long shirt, Pepper in a tank top nightgown, Thor's girlfriend/fiancée in flannels and a silk dressing gown, and Callie in an overlarge T-shirt (probably Steve's—don't tell her I said that) and sweat pants.

"Where is… he?" Clint asked warily, looking right at me. I shrugged. I wasn't quite sure who he was talking about. Fury? Coulson? Oh wait… yes I did. There was only one "he" Clint was edgy around.

My boyfriend.

Also known as Loki. By the way.

"How should I know?" I retorted sassily.

"We're not together every second of the day—unlike those guys." I jerked my thumb over at where Callie and Steve were on the couch and practically in each other's laps and where Tony and Pepper were grinning at each other by the granite counter. Clint snickered and nodded.

"Fair enough Fireball," he joked, using the nickname no one had called me in years. I narrowed my dark eyes at him. He just gave me a smirk and didn't say anything else.

I felt cold breath breeze over the back of my neck. "Miss me?" a voice asked, British accent lilting his tone. Even though I couldn't see him, I could feel his icy eyes on the back of my head and knew his tongue was between his teeth in a mischievous grin. I turned around.

I'll be the first to say Loki was a whole foot taller than me. I'm almost five-foot-two. So I had to bring his head down and go up on tiptoe to give him a kiss. I heard Callie catcall from behind me and rolled my eyes. But it was probably because Loki picked me up by my waist so I was on his level, my feet hanging a foot in the air. When he set me down, he let me pull him into a hold and dance with him around the cold hardwood floor.

Okay. Before you wonder why I'm dating a psychopath… Loki. Has. Changed. And he changed because of me—which is probably why we're still together. He was the one who coined my nickname—Fireball. We met when I was about fourteen. We were bitter enemies then. I was living with the Avengers—and I'll explain why later I promise—and that made us enemies. But when I pulled him out of the way of a tour bus in the middle of New York, and then when we got trapped in a cellar for about two days—long story—we became friends. Over the course of the next three—almost four now—years, he became good and we fell in love. Normally I would never admit that, but it's true.

"I love you baby and if it's quite alright I need you baby to warm a lonely night—" The CD was still playing and we kept dancing. Neither of us was very good, but we were having fun. After a moment of laughing, Tony and Pepper joined us.

When the song was over, the track changed to Hooked on a Feeling by Blue Swede. Everyone danced to that—having a great time. By the time it was over no one was in partners—we had an uneven amount of girls anyway—and I was on the floor with a stitch in my side from laughing. Apparently I hadn't noticed the fact that Bruce wasn't dancing, because he came back to our impromptu dance floor with several bowls of popcorn precariously balanced up his arms.

"So… uh… what movie?" he asked. Poor guy was horrendously eleventh-wheeling it (Thor/Jane, Callie/Steve, Tony/Pepper, Loki/Moi, Clint/Natasha) and I knew that once upon a time he had a girlfriend, but after Tony helped me scour the whole freakin' country for her, we found nothing. I wasn't very computer savvy, but I was still looking for her.

"How about a TV show pilot tonight?" Pepper suggested. If they agreed on Game of Thrones I was going back to my room. I had nothing against people who liked it—or the show—but I had a very old-fashioned moral code (still do) and high standards for my entertainment. Plus anything explicit whilst sitting next to my boyfriend—who by the way, was wearing a loose green shirt and loose black trousers, since I didn't mention his jammies earlier—would make me horrendously uncomfortable. And, of course, me being sassy me, I told them that. As always, I got a few chuckles from the group, but they were family to me. They respected my decisions.

"We should watch Once Upon a Time," Callie proposed from where Steve was putting a piece of popcorn in her mouth. I relaxed. I was glad she'd always be on my side even though the others usually were too.

"Yeah! That sounds great!" Jane agreed.

End Note: I don't really have much else to say. Thanks for the follows/faves/review! Love y'all!

To "callieandjack": Glad you love this story. *sends airhug over the Internet* I don't know who's going to win. Actually I do. But I can't tell you now can I? Spoil the surprise, it would!

THANKS FOR READING!

~Cass