Author's Note: I'm glad that you all like Michelle so far. I'm working very hard on making her a believable character, someone to balance out Loki's darkness and make him believe that he's worth something. As I said, every one of you can slap me if she starts to delve into Sue territory.

Changed

Chapter Two: An Uneasy Truce

"Alright, John, Katie, you two are going to need to move down stage left a bit, I won't tell you again. Where is Andrew? Is he in costume yet?"

The director was busy putting about the empty theatre, going over the choreography and blocking for the replacement cast members. He was a tall, middle-aged Englishman with dark brown hair and gray eyes, and he always looked incredibly serious. His name was Derek, and he was part of the reason why Michelle's stress headache hadn't gone away since that morning. She sat in one of the plush velvet chairs in the audience rubbing her temples, a headset with a microphone on her head and a clipboard with scenes and schedules on her lap.

"Miss Taylor," Derek called. She was convinced his was the only English accent she hated hearing.

"Yes, Derek," Michelle called back, trying to be polite.

"Where is Andrew? You're supposed to be keeping track of this."

"Here!" a voice called from the stage, and a handsome young man with jelled black hair dressed in a suit emerged from the wings. "Sorry, the suit wasn't sitting properly."

"Fine," Derek said shortly. "Alright, now that Andrew's here, we're going to take the number from the top. William will cue you in."

Michelle sighed as she slumped further down in her seat, the pounding in her head becoming unbearable as she was forced to listen to the same song she'd heard twenty times since that morning. Ordinarily she wouldn't mind, but with one thing piling up after another, it started to grate on her nerves. All she could do was thank the lord that she only managed the matinees and that there was a replacement for the evening shows, because she really didn't think she could deal with it. Add to that an irritable asshole director and the new stress of Loki home alone in her apartment, and there was an incredibly cranky Miss Taylor currently in the building. The creak of the seat next to her being occupied caused her to look up, and she was met with the beautiful sight of Dylan holding out a Starbuck's cup to her. Her face spread into a grateful smile as she took the cup, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek.

"How did you know?" she asked him, bringing the cup to her lips. She was met with the sweet flavor of tea, and she groaned in grateful satisfaction.

"I'm amazing, that's how," he replied, taking a sip of his own drink. "Derek giving you a hard time?"

"Derek's just… being Derek," Michelle answered with a sigh, adjusting the microphone on her headset so it was out of her face. "And this morning I had to deal with Jeremy again, helping him with all of his paperwork… seriously, how the hell did he get that job?"

"Who knows?" Dylan said shrugging. "But Eileen's already thinking of firing him; if you hadn't gotten him to send in that contract to Andrew yesterday, the entire production would have been screwed."

"Well, you're welcome," she replied with a smile, taking another sip of her drink.

"How's Hottie McHothot?"

"Oh," Michelle said lamely. The distraction of tea had made her temporarily forget about her strange houseguest. "He's, uh… at home."

"By himself?" Dylan arched a brow questioningly.

"Yeah," she sighed. "I talked to him this morning."

"Oh?" he turned so that his entire torso was facing her, very interested in what she had to say. "And?"

"He's… a little weird," she admitted. She wasn't exactly sure how much information she wanted to give Dylan, or if he would even believe her. "I'm still not one hundred percent sure on the details of what happened, but… he's alive. I guess that's a start."

"So what's his name?" Dylan asked.

"Loki," Michelle told him dubiously.

"Loki?"

"Yeah, I know," she laughed, taking another sip of her tea. "He demanded that I kneel in front of him today, too."

Dylan raised a brow. "Well… did you?"

"No," Michelle said, sounding almost insulted he even asked. "I told him off and said he needed to change his attitude towards the person who saved his life."

"He's totally into bondage," Dylan decided, settling back into his seat and crossing his legs. Michelle coughed on her tea and looked at him in horror.

"Perfect," she said sarcastically. "That's exactly what I need; a kink freak living in my apartment. Let's hope he doesn't try to tie me up at night while I'm sleeping."

"What's this about a kink freak?" A small girl named Angela said, plopping into the seat next to Michelle. She was a tiny Asian girl, one of the dancers in the show, her big brown eyes lighting up with interest at their conversation.

"Michelle's new roommate," Dylan told her with a grin, nudging Michelle in the arm.

"I helped him out yesterday, and now he's staying in my apartment for a bit," Michelle replied, rolling her eyes at Dylan. "It's nothing."

"Oh, okay," Angela answered, seemingly disappointed that the conversation wasn't more interesting. "Anyway, just wondering when break was; I have to make a phone call and I'm actually starving…"

Michelle checked her watch as she picked up her clipboard, getting into her feet. "Right now, actually. Hey, Derek!"

"What?" Derek snapped at her, on the stage talking to Andrew the actor. Michelle tried not to roll her eyes at him as she tapped her watch. He groaned. "Are you serious?"

"Equity rules," she replied. "Regular breaks."

"Fine," he answered, turning away to leave the stage. "Everyone, take a break."

"Be back at quarter after!" Michelle called out to the actors and dancers shuffling off the stage. She sat down again next to Dylan, removing her headset with a sigh as she rubbed at her eyes. "My god, it's been such a long day…"

"Probably going to be even longer now, with your new kinky boy toy," Dylan said with a smirk.

"I hate you," Michelle shot back with a sense of finalty.

She was finally allowed to go home. The replacement stage manager came in to work the evening show and Michelle gratefully packed up her things. She called goodbye to her coworkers as she made her way out of the theatre and onto the street where she hailed a cab. The last thing she needed was a possibility of getting mugged again, and she was too tired to walk home. Giving her address to the driver as she slid into the back seat, the door closed behind her with a satisfying thud and she got comfortable as the car started along the road. She took this opportunity to think and decide what to do about Loki.

Michelle wasn't unfamiliar with the Norse gods. She never studied them in detail, but she remembered doing a small unit on Vikings when she was in elementary school and the names of the Norse gods had come up; Loki's included. He was either a radical, so in love with the mythology that he believed his own story, or he was actually serious and was really of Asgard. The last one would explain how he managed to fall twenty or more feet from the sky without severely injuring himself, and the costume… but she still wanted to talk to him and make sure. Ordinarily she wouldn't believe any of it, but since the invasion in New York, everyone's opinions of what was possible and what wasn't changed drastically.

The cab pulled up in front of her apartment building and she slipped the driver a twenty, telling him to keep the change, before climbing out of the cab. Making her way across the lobby to the elevators, they opened to reveal the same old woman from yesterday, who'd been giving Loki weird looks. Michelle gave her a small smile as she stepped into the elevator next to her, pressing the '5' button to go to her floor.

"No cousin today?" The old woman asked. Michelle was confused for a second before she remembered the story she'd made up.

"Oh," she said. "No, he stayed home today. On my way to check on him now."

"I hope you managed to get him out of those strange clothes and into something a little more normal," the old woman said.

"I did," Michelle answered with a smile as the elevator stopped on her floor. She stepped out. "Have a nice day."

She fished in her purse for her keys as she made her way down the hallway, deciding to take out her mace for good measure. Fitting the key into the slot, she was relieved to find that it was still locked; that was a good sign. Opening the door, she slowly entered, straining her ears for the slightest of sounds, but she was only met with silence. She threw her keys back in her purse, dropping it to the floor as she kicked off her shoes. With the can of mace in hand, she slowly made her way down the hallway to the spare bedroom where she'd last seen him.

"Loki?" she called hesitantly, peering into the room. She saw him sitting in the wooden 'reading chair', she called it, one of his elbows on the arm, a book in his hand. She recognized the black hardcover with ornate green designs all over it; he was reading Wicked, by Gregory Maguire, one of Michelle's favorite titles. He was so entranced by the story that he didn't notice her come in as she crossed the room and sat on the single bed across from him. "Good book?"

His head snapped up in alarm, hastily closing the book as if he'd been caught doing something bad. She raised a brow but gave him a smile, tucking the mace into the pocket of her sweater.

"Don't stop reading on my account," she said, gesturing to the book. "Go for it; it's a great read."

"You… enjoy this story?" Loki asked.

"Yeah, it's one of my favorites," she answered. "Elphaba's such an interesting character. A lot of people relate to her because… I think they know how she feels; they know how it is to feel like you don't belong anywhere."

Loki's face suddenly darkened. "You know nothing of how it feels to not belong anywhere."

Michelle raised a brow. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to strike a nerve." She sounded confused.

He'd taken to staring at the cover of the book instead of looking at her now, not saying a word. Michelle watched him for a moment, waiting to see if he'd do or say something, but he kept still and quiet, much to her frustration. He was certainly a short fuse… She willed her patience, though, and sighed, stretching her arms above her head as she got to her feet.

"I'm making dinner," she told him, heading for the door. "What do you want?"

"I don't have a preference," he replied stiffly.

"Stir fry it is, then," Michelle said, already halfway to the kitchen.

Nearly an hour later, the apartment was filled with the smell of cooked chicken, vegetables, spices and rice. As far as she knew, Loki was still sulking in the spare bedroom , so by the time dinner was served on white plates, she decided to just leave it on the table for him as she made her way into the living room.

"Food's in the kitchen," she called to him as she flicked on the TV. She flipped through channels until she eventually decided on a Friends rerun, sinking into the couch cushions as she started on her meal. She was halfway through her plate when Loki eventually came into the living room, joining her on the couch. They both sat at complete opposite ends, a large gap between them. The air always seemed to get tense and heavy whenever he was in the room… though, that could just be Michelle's imagination, as well. She glanced over at him, noticing that his jaw and face looked relatively relaxed, but the hand that rested on his thigh was clenched into a fist. He was clearly unhappy. She half wished him and his unhappiness hadn't bothered coming to sit with her.

Michelle clicked her tongue, drumming her fingers on the arm of the couch as she tried to decide what to say. While she fidgeted uncomfortably, he stayed perfectly still, his only movement the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, or the twitch of his muscles in his neck as he swallowed. No tapping fingers, no bouncing knees… he didn't seem to have any nervous habits at all. For some reason that made her uneasy.

"So," she said, trying to break the silence. "Loki of Asgard. What brings you to Earth?"

He didn't reply. The only telltale sign that he'd heard her was his jaw suddenly clenching. She eyed him warily, worried that he would blow up at any second.

"Do you… come in peace?" She asked hesitantly, leaning away from him a little more.

Loki scoffed. "I am not some science fiction creature your people have invented for entertainment."

"See, now, I'm starting to think otherwise," she replied, turning her whole body to face him. "First of all, you fell from the sky at an undisclosed height without dying, you barely got any scratches, the most you walked away with was a headache, and the minute you wake up, you start trying to subjugate me, claiming that you're a god."

"I am a god," Loki snapped.

"Good for you!" Michelle said, throwing up her hands in frustration. "But as I recall, you said you were powerless, so I think that knocks your god status down a few pegs."

"I never-" he started, but then realized that she was right; he was very powerless, and he'd told her so that morning. He'd almost forgotten that Odin had taken away his powers. As if to prove it to himself, he willed his armor to appear on his body; his long green cape, the horned helmet. But it didn't appear. Odin had taken away everything. He was mortal. "I am… powerless."

Michelle tilted her head as she looked at him, twirling a dark curl around her finger. "May I ask how a god suddenly becomes powerless?"

Loki's green eyes flicked over to her briefly before glancing away again. "Let's just say that I haven't exactly been on my best behavior and I'm being punished for it."

She simply sat there, looking at him with a brow raised. She remained quiet, but the silence made Loki feel as if she were shouting her questions at him. It was infuriating, the way she just sat there patiently and looked at him with those bright blue eyes. Eventually he hissed through his teeth and turned to look at her full in the face, his patience wearing thin.

"I was second in line to the throne of Asgard," he said in a tangent. "I grew jealous of my older brother, Thor. I wanted to prove that I could do a better job than him. So, I took matters into my own hands, and my father took my powers and banished me here to this realm. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Through his little speech of rage, she was surprised to hear a hint of honest sadness in his voice. She liked to believe that she was perceptive and could tell when people were lying, but that had proved not to be the case on occasion… Even so, with the look in his eyes and the way he seemed legitimately upset about his predicament led her to believe that he was being truthful.

"So, let me get this straight," Michelle said, wanting to make sure she understood. "Your adoptive father Odin banished you from Asgard for acting out on your jealousy to your brother Thor?"

Loki huffed slightly. "More or less."

Though she wondered what it was he could have done that caused Odin to banish him, her immediate thought was that she felt sorry for him; to be left to fend for yourself with nothing in a strange place as a form of punishment… and Michelle thought her parents had been severe when they'd grounded her from the computer when she was a teenager. Loki's punishment was… extreme.

"Dude, I'm sorry," she said sincerely.

He raised a brow. "You are?"

She nodded. "That's rough."

"And you actually believe me?" He seemed doubtful.

"I know I probably shouldn't," Michelle answered slowly, sitting cross-legged. "And I'm probably crazy… and I'm definitely going to regret this at some point, I know it… but New York has seen so many crazy things lately that believing them is a little easier. So, yeah; I believe you."

Loki just cleared his throat softly as he shifted, leaning against the arm of the couch. He didn't say anything, but she had a feeling that that was his silent way of saying thank you. She smiled to herself as she grabbed one of the couch cushions and hugged it to her chest, turning to mindlessly watch the TV again. As she did so, a new thought came to mind, and the question was out of her mouth before she could even think about it.

"So how long is your punishment supposed to be?"

"Until my father decides I've learned my lesson, I suppose," Loki replied stiffly. "But until then, I suppose it doesn't really matter, does it?"

She glanced at him sadly, noticing the bitterness in his voice. She'd never been banished from her home and family, she left and came to New York on her own, but she still missed them terribly. She could only imagine what Loki was feeling. Despite his honesty, however, she still got the sense that he didn't trust her. Not that she could really blame him; she didn't exactly trust him, either, but she needed to take what he was telling her in good faith. She just hoped it wouldn't come to bite her in the butt later…

"Hey, listen," Michelle said after a while, tracing random patterns on the pillow. "I know this is the last place you want to be, and I'm the last person you want to be with, but… you can trust me. I'll help you get home."

Loki gave a humorless laugh. "And how, exactly, do you plan to do that?"

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "Maybe… help you learn whatever lesson it is you need to learn?"

"Even I don't know what the lesson is. There may not even be a lesson, so how do you expect to help me learn it?" He snapped. "Thank you for the sentiment, but I don't need your pity."

"I'm not giving you pity," Michelle said firmly. "I'm giving you a chance. Face it, Loki, your options are pretty slim here. If you're really from Asgard that means you don't know how to live among humans. How do you expect to survive?"

"I have survived things beyond your wildest dreams," He said darkly, facing her fully now. His eyes, so green and intense, seemed to bore into her and she forced herself to take a deep breath, to not be afraid of him. He was powerless, she kept telling herself. He couldn't do anything. "I have fought battles that make your petty wars here on Earth look like nothing but scuffles among children. I am a god, you insolent whelp, so how do you expect to help me do anything?"

Through his yelling, Michelle's anger began to bubble to the surface. He was seriously pulling this act again? Really? As soon as he was done his speech, she grabbed hold of her pillow and proceeded to throw it at him so that it hit him hard in the face. He sat there stunned for a moment, shocked that she dared do such a thing, and by the time he turned his eyes to her again, she was off the couch, standing defiantly above him, her breath labored with anger.

"You! Are not! A god!" She yelled at him. "If you are a god, then prove your power! Go on! Magic me into submission! Blow something up; summon thunder and lighting to smite me where I stand, I dare you!"

They simply stared at each other for a long time, both glaring, Michelle huffing in fury. He tried to stare her down so that she'd look away, apologize, and realize that she's been out of line for speaking to him in such a manner, but she didn't. Instead, her blue eyes bore into his green, defiant, strong and unwavering. Every time he'd begun to yell at her, she would stand her ground and yell right back. For a moment, she reminded him of Sif; a beautiful maiden, a woman that looked to be delicate like a flower, but her will was always something that surpassed Loki's. He'd clearly underestimated this Michelle, and as much as he wished he could smite her where she stood, he couldn't.

He was the first to look away, eyes turned to the floor in defeat.

"Let me remind you again," She said slowly, her voice level, but he could still hear the traces of anger. "You have no power here. As much as you don't want to admit it, you are exactly like everyone else now; human and mortal. The sooner you accept and realize that, the sooner we can move on."

She returned to her place on the couch again, plopping heavily onto the cushion and resting her head in her hand. She sighed before turning to look at him again, annoyed that he hadn't said anything yet.

"You know, people are usually a lot nicer to those who try and help them." She said sharply.

"People have never really had a reason to help me," Loki answered. "If you knew half of what I've done, you wouldn't be helping me at all."

"Oh for god's sake, I don't care what you've done," Michelle said in frustration, pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes. "I don't care. I care about you, for whatever reason, and as much as I'd love to just let you walk out of here and find your own way, my conscience won't let me. I'll do whatever I have to do to make myself sleep better at night, and if that means taking care of you, then… deal with it."

She got up off the couch again, grabbing her dinner plate and eating utensils and tromping passed him to the kitchen. He heard the sound of water running from the sink as he thought about what she'd said. For whatever reason, this woman was adamant about helping him. He didn't know why, and clearly neither did she, but she was serious about ensuring that he stayed safe. He supposed he should just thank his lucky stars and go along with it; the sooner he cooperated, the sooner he could leave. Maybe if he changed his behavior, Odin would let him return to Asgard and he could live there as the shamed prince, the adopted Frost Giant bastard, forever living in Thor's shadow. Loki scoffed to himself. Part of him wished Odin had just executed him and been done with it; being banished to Earth was no different than living normally on Asgard. At the heart of it all, he would be shunned and despised in both places. The only difference was he had powers and a fake title on Asgard, but he'd never be allowed near the throne again. The shadow of a would-be King was all that remained of Loki now.

He weighed his options; he could either stay here with Michelle (who clearly wasn't aware that he was involved in the invasion) and try to live a normal life. Or he could try his hand at making his own way and risk getting arrested or recaptured by SHIELD. They had eyes everywhere, and they would not be kind to him once they found out he was back on Earth and very much powerless. Loki hissed through his teeth in annoyance, but he knew the proper course of action to take. That didn't mean he liked it, though… Getting up from the couch, he tromped off to the kitchen, annoyed with himself for what he was about to do. He rounded the corner, leaning against the wall as Michelle stood at the sink, back turned to him as she washed dishes with a little more rigor than necessary.

"I accept," he said simply.

"Accept what?" she snapped back, without looking at him.

"Your help."

She paused with her dish washing and dropped the cup she had been scrubbing out for the past two minutes in the sink. Slowly turning to face him, her hands still wet and soapy, she appraised him, searching his face carefully. He kept his features a blank mask as she studied him. He was just putting up with this for as long as he needed to.

"Fine," she said. "But I have conditions."

Loki sighed and dropped his head into his hands. He rubbed at his eyes with his fingers, saying tiredly, "What are they?"

"You have to change your attitude," Michelle said, grabbing a dishtowel and drying her hands. "You need to drop the whole 'I hate everything' thing; I can't deal with a constant dark cloud of negativity, it kills my mojo. You don't have to be obnoxiously happy all the time, but try and… lighten up."

He supposed that was easy enough; he liked fun. Maybe he'd have to reinvent his idea of fun, perhaps, due to his lack of powers now, but he was sure he could find ways to entertain himself. He looked up at her again. "Fair enough. Anything else?"

"House work," she said, crossing her arms. "If you're going to be living here, too, you can at least lend a hand. Cleaning up after yourself, doing dishes every now and then. Also, general rule, my bedroom is off limits. Other than that… mi casa su casa."

Loki titled his head to the side in confusion.

"My house is your house," Michelle translated.

"Understood," he answered with a slight bow of his head. "And thank you. Is that all?"

"No, I have a few more things," she continued. "You need to trust me. Not today. Not tomorrow, but eventually. Take it at your own pace, I suppose, but… I'm not your enemy. Even if we never end up being friends – which… I'd like to be, at some point – I'd at least like us to be civil with each other."

He was surprised at how sincere she was. She truly wanted to be friends with him. He wasn't sure which surprised him more; the fact that she helped a total stranger or the fact that she was so willing to accept him into her life. He supposed things could be worse, though.

"Eventually," he answered her after a moment. "Was that the last of your conditions?"

"One more."

"Let's hear it, then."

"You need to let me cut your hair."

Loki looked at her in surprise, frowning slightly as he reached a hand back and touched his feathery black locks. "What's wrong with my hair?"

"Have you seen your hair?" Michelle said, raising a brow as she leaned back against the counter. "It's ridiculous."

Loki pouted slightly. "It's not ridiculous…"

"The back is," she assured him.

He sighed. If that were what it would take for him to stay there, then he'd do it. "Fine…"

"Thank you," she seemed to breathe in relief. She then pointed to the kitchen chair and gave him a rather stern look. "Sit. I have barber's scissors in the bathroom."

"What, now?" He asked incredulously.

"No time like the present," she chirped.

Loki complied and sat down at the table lamely. As he waited for Michelle to return with her tools, he rubbed at his eyes again and wondered idly if getting arrested by SHIELD would be easier.

Author's Note:Loki's crazy feathery, flippy hair needed to go. I'm sorry. As amazing as he was in The Avengers, I missed the way he was in Thor. Especially his hair. I don't know why. So… hair!

Also, sorry about a shorter chapter this time around. The lengths will fluctuate.