Taylor woke the next morning sore overall, and sprinkled here and there with sharp pains from her healing cuts. Her ankle had healed up overnight, thankfully, and was mostly just stiff when she tried to walk on it. Stumbling from the bed, she ripped each and every bandage off with a grimace and crept reluctantly into the shower, allowing the feeling of the water running over her skin to soothe her troubled mind.

While she'd been exhausted the night before, after nightmares and then their impromptu Battle Royale, Taylor's mind hadn't left her in peace to sleep. She'd been plagued with dreams of a certain temperamental Asgardian (ex) prince with a slight superiority complex. Not the fun, "you got hit by a bus and I laughed" type of dream either, or the "I killed you and had to the hide body" as she would have expected. No, they were the types of dreams that made a wicked blush rise to her cheeks at the mere thought of their contents.

She groaned and allowed her head to meet the shower wall with a dull thud. Perhaps Loki had been responsible somehow, with his super magic powers or whatever. Yeah, she doubted it. He'd looked as dead on his feet as everyone else, and as far as Taylor knew, he had practically negative number of reasons to torture her with erotic dreams. Her traitorous subconscious then, she decided. It had found yet another way to torment her, and these were not something she could shake off with some soothing tea and pat on the head from her teammates.

"I'm an asshole," she said to herself in the shower, "or at least deep down I am."

With a resigned sigh and a brief shake of the head, she wandered slowly back into her bedroom and donned her just-got-my-ass-kicked uniform. The just-got-my-ass-kicked uniform consisted of a pair of loose workout shorts that she'd never actually exercised in, and an old tank top with the words "at least I'm pretty" written backwards in fake, glued-on rhinestones.

Barefoot, she padded towards the kitchen, too tired and pained to do something productive like make breakfast for everyone. Instead, she snatched a frozen waffle from the fridge and heated it between her palms while the coffee machine went about enabling her caffeine addiction. Once her coffee was done, she began downing it without a second thought, pausing only long enough to take bites out of her waffle. First cup down, she made a second and, feeling human enough to understand English again, wandered into the living room where Bucky, Steve, Bruce, Natasha, and Clint were watching TV.

With a yawn, she nestled herself between Steve and the arm of the couch, murmuring a barely coherent "good morning" to everyone. The screen was split in half, one side broadcasting news coverage of a "disturbance" in Greenland, the other playing the classic Looney Tunes—not the slightly irritating new version. Taylor settled her sleepy attention on Bugs Bunny and Yosemite Sam while her coffee kicked in.

The rest of the Avengers slowly began trickling in, one at a time. First came Pepper, sleeping in for once, good for her. Next came Loki, who couldn't seem to decide what to watch and settled for the news—probably because it made actual sense to him. Then came Thor, who Taylor had to help in working the coffee machine. Finally Tony, true to style, joined them last.

By that time, Taylor felt like a functioning human being again and was engaged in a conversation with Steve about cartoons. The dilemma from night before came up slowly, and then finally they couldn't put it off anymore; they had decide on the next course of action.

"We must return to Asgard," Thor said, "so that we may ascertain how the fire giants are able to travel without the use of portals or the Bifrost."

"When you say 'we' who exactly are you referring to?" Taylor asked.

"Loki and I, of course," he answered, "but also you, my friends. The Bifrost is the best way to travel between realms, and I will need your help to defeat these creatures."

Taylor nearly exploded with excitement. She'd been dying to see Asgard for years, ever since Thor had first begun telling her stories about it and now it seemed she would finally get her wish. Sure, the reason she was finally going was because creatures in Helheim were stealing entire villages for some unknown reason, but she liked to focus on the positive.

"I don't know if it's a good idea to leave the Earth unprotected like that," Steve pointed out hesitantly, "if they come back…"

"Heimdall will keep an eye on the Earth. He may not be able to see them when they are between realms, but now that we know our enemy, he will alert us if they appear in any realm," Thor explained.

"Sounds like a plan," Tony said, clapping his hands together once and getting to his feet, "I'll go start packing."

"Carry only what you need," Thor urged, "clothing and other necessities will be provided in Asgard."

Taylor grimaced and began for her room. She had the distinct feeling that the Asgardians didn't make fire-retardant outfits on a daily basis. Her clothes wouldn't regularly catch fire, but if the situation suddenly turned tactical, she knew from experience leather (and most other materials) and fire didn't mix well. The mesh mission gear Bruce and Tony had designed for her was thrown into a duffle bag, along with pajamas (pesky nightmares and all), undergarments, and several pairs of shoes. Never underestimate the importance of heat resistant shoes.

Satisfied that she was packed properly, she threw the duffel over the shoulder that hurt the least and met with the others in the living room. The two super soldiers and the two spies were already prepared to leave, no surprise there, but Bruce and Tony were still strangely absent. Dropping her bag among the others piled on the floor, she sidled over to Loki, cramming her pesky dreams deep down in a little box where they couldn't embarrass her.

"How are you feeling this morning?" she questioned, stuffing her hands in her pants pockets.

"Better than you, I think," he replied, raising an eyebrow at her scratched appearance.

For once in her life, Taylor was covered in more open wounds than bruises, unusual considering she usually looked like a black and blue painting rather than a person after battles. The soreness and skin sensitivity wasn't there, but the worry of opening the injuries again had her moving gingerly. Plus those stitches in her side—she really hated stitches.

"You should have seen me after my first mission," she snorted, "I was nearly hospitalized. This is nothing."

There was a pause before she spoke again, quieter this time.

"Are you looking forward to going back?" she asked.

The god sent her sideways look, but quickly returned his eyes on the skyline outside the windows. It was a seemingly harmless question, but they both knew she was dancing around a touchy subject. Loki considered his subsequent words carefully, as he always did.

"To Asgard, I suppose I am. It is where I grew up. It is what I know, and it is beautiful. I do not look forward to returning to my cell, however."

She openly grimaced, though there wasn't pity in her expression. If anyone knew how useless and aggravating pity or sympathy was, it was Taylor. Loki would sneer and rebuke any attempt she would have made at expressing it as well. Besides, there was a good reason as to why he'd earned himself a cell, even if she figured he'd atoned for it in the end.

"You're helping us, though. They're not going to make you hang out in the dungeons when we still need your help, are they?" she wondered, eyes searching his face for an answer.

For a moment, just a moment, Loki's features softened from its resigned stoicism, and Taylor saw what she felt sure was genuine remorse for a moment before his usual bitter smirk was back in place and he faced her again. Folding his arms behind his back, he measured the raven-haired woman peering at him with an expression as close to impassive as he imagined she could make it.

"I would not underestimate Odin's commitment to my punishment," he warned her.

Before she could say anything more, the rest of the Avengers had arrived and it was time for them to relocate to an open space where Heimdall could open the Bifrost to them. Tony, unsurprisingly, carried three suitcases with him, Iron Man suits that he insisted he needed to bring with him. They decided the roof of the tower was the best option and stood huddled together as the wind buffered them.

"Grab hold of one another. We wouldn't want you to get lost in Yadrsil," Thor instructed, laughing lightly at the end.

Taylor paled. Oh yes, what a funny little accident that would be, to go hurtling into the void of empty space. Like when she crashed one of Tony's hundred-thousand dollar cars into a couple of plastic garbage cans while Natasha and Clint were teaching her how to drive. Hilarious. She scooted closer to Loki and clasped hands with him. Rather helpfully, her brain conjured an image of their fingers interlocked together, in bed, his hands guiding hers over her head while they—

"Whenever you're ready Heimdall."

A beam of light burst around them, and Taylor yelped as her unprepared body was jettisoned through space at a speed that made her feel like she would be ripped apart at any given moment. Her hand tightened on Loki's, vice-like with slight fear as she stared in wonder at the streaks of color flying by them, too fast to comprehend that they were planets and stars and nebulas.

Then, just as soon as it had begun, her feet touched solid ground and she stumbled, the trickster god's hold the only thing keeping her face from getting intimate with the polished gold floor. Steve did end up hitting the deck, and most of the Avengers winced while Bucky snickered and advised him to walk it off.

"That was…interesting," Clint remarked, disturbed, glancing at the glass opening they'd just travelled through.

"Who's up for another go?" Taylor added breathlessly, grinning at the looks it earned her.

The journey had been mind-numbingly, gut-wrenchingly terrifying, but fun all the same. Then again, Taylor was an admitted adrenaline junkie, so there was that to remember. With a satisfied breath, she released Loki's hand, ignored the fact that she missed its comfort almost immediately, and observed the inner mechanisms of the Bifrost with fascination.

"This is incredible," she murmured, "what sort of power does it run on?"

"Magic," the gold-clad guardian, Heimdall answered her, making her tip her head in confusion.

"Magic?" she repeated, "But…"

"It's best not to argue about it, girl," Loki interrupted, ushering her towards the opening after her companions.

"I thought we already had this conversation about calling me 'girl'," she commented, allowing him to herd her from the Bifrost, "or did you just forget my name?"

"I know your name very well, Taylor, I just don't see why I should be delegated to using it."

She pretended that a warm thrill didn't go through her when he used her name, and chose instead to scowl at him.

"If you don't stop calling me 'girl' I'm going to use your name in as many puns as I can, and believe me, I'm creative enough to come up with a few."

He shot her skeptical sideways look. Taylor was an intelligent woman, surely she would know better than to antagonize him in such way. Perhaps not, he mused when he saw her determined and uncharacteristically devious expression. She may have been clever, but she was also her fair share of crazy. Reconsidering his references to her would be prudent for the sake of his own sanity.

"Taylor," Bruce called, interrupting their argument, "take a look at this bridge."

Curious, her gaze flitted down, where the translucent rainbow surface lit up brightly beneath each step. Squealing with delight, she began dancing around childishly, hopping in place just to see it light up.

"This is so cool!" she gushed.

She was a twenty-something year old woman with impressive science and technology degrees, not to mention one of the Earth's mighty protectors, and she was skipping about like a child. Loki could do little more than stare after her as she began jogging backwards, watching the trail she made with a wide smile splitting her face.

"That's Taylor for you," Tony commented with a chuckle.

"Let us just hope she does not trip and fall in the water," Thor added with slight worry, "she can be clumsy."

Luckily, the female superhero did not tumble into the sea lapping lazily at the shoreline, and her exuberance had died down some by the time they reached the castle. All the Avengers seemed taken with the golden city, but Loki felt dread settling heavy in his gut as they traversed the familiar passageways of his childhood home. He had little hope of keeping his current freedom while in Asgard.

His eyes darted around, waiting for guards to approach him at any moment with shackles to haul him back to his prison cell. Noticing his sudden unease, Taylor casually slowed her pace to walk by his side, silent while she absorbed their new surroundings. There was an unspoken invitation for conversation, but Loki wasn't sure quite what to say to her. It was odd, knowing the shame he would feel when he was restrained and led away to a cage.

He couldn't fathom why he would feel such a way when before that moment, he'd only really experienced a sense of strong indignation when they'd chained him. Even leaving Earth as he had the last time, muzzled, chained and beaten, he'd not felt the disgrace he anticipated now. His eyes flicked to the female by his side—her fault, he supposed. For a while he'd almost felt…human.

"Is it as you expected?" he asked her at last, finding the silence between them too crowded.

"Asgard or the palace?" she replied complacently.

"Both, I suppose."

She paused, thinking about her answer.

"The palace is better than I could have imagined," she started, but then shrugged, "as for Asgard, it's too soon to make any judgements."

A group of soldiers passed them, just finished on the training field, he assumed. Among them was Sif, and as soon as she saw him, she was charging right for the group, drawing her weapon. Taylor, unfortunately directly between the angry Asgardian woman and the former prince, put her hands up in a calming gesture.

"Whoa there, Xena," Tony called, noticing the standoff, "take it easy. We come in peace."

Taylor snorted, shooting the billionaire a look that said "thanks for the help". Thor intervened, swiftly attempting to defuse the situation.

"These are my Midgardian friends, Sif. They are here to help us."

"Loki is no friend of mine," Sif declared angrily, glaring between Taylor and Loki.

He pretended as though her words wounded him, placing a hand to his chest theatrically.

"After all we've been through, Sif?" he mocked.

She snarled at him, looking for just a moment like she was actually going to impale him on her sword (and Taylor in the process) before Thor answered. Taylor took that moment to elbow Loki solidly in the ribs, a silent warning to knock it off, the trickster assumed.

"We need his help."

"And we'd appreciate it if you didn't stab our friend," Steve added helpfully.

"Yeah, I like my guts as they are, thank you."

There was silence for a moment as Sif slowly lowered her sword, and then Tony tactfully broke it.

"So…lunch?"


They were enjoying a late meal outside, in one of the open banquet halls. Most of the superheroes were settled at a large wooden table in the shade, but Taylor was basking in the sun at the top of the steps, just a few feet away. Her face was turned into the light while she soaked up the warmth the reflection off the buildings provided. It was nice to be still for a moment, even with the quiet murmur of her friends just off to the side. She was still exhausted and sore from their activities the night before, and the sunlight was making her mind pleasantly hazy.

The food was delicious, but rich for someone like her, who survived mostly off salads and high-protein diets to accommodate the literal thousands of calories she burned per day. Not used to filling up so quickly, she picked at what remained of her meal, listening idly to the Avenger's conversation. Loki sat leisurely across from her, his back against the adjacent column.

He, too, seemed to have lost his appetite, but Taylor suspected for an entirely different reason. Sif had joined them and kept casting sharp looks their way. Taylor suspected the prince was waiting to be seized at any moment to continue his rather redundant punishment. She wondered if Thor could convince Odin to extend his brief reprieve, at least until the perpetrators for the lost villagers were apprehended. Something told her that Asgardian law didn't have a parole for good behavior clause.

"You seem troubled," the subject of her thoughts spoke up suddenly.

She couldn't admit that she was worried about him and the plunge his disposition was taking. As irritating as Loki could be, she preferred his larger than life attitude, god-sized ego, and even the diva sulking tantrums in comparison to the quiet, subdued way he was acting now. It occurred to her that he might just be putting on an act—god of lies and mischief and all that—but for whose benefit she couldn't decipher. It certainly wasn't going to work with Thor across the room, and Loki wasn't one to desire sympathy for sympathy's sake.

"So do you," she countered, sipping from her goblet (an actual goblet, holy smokes) of water.

"With good reason," he pointed out, gesturing subtly towards the female warrior attempting to turn him to ash with nothing more than her intense gaze.

Taylor half-smiled, pretending not to have noticed the woman's glare and stared out at the foreign city, shifting so she her legs were crossed, her plate abandoned in front of her. She was just about to speak when a booming, authoritative voice cut her off.

"Once more, you ignore my words and bring creatures that do not belong to our realm."

The appearance of Odin startled Taylor so badly that she jumped and half-scooted behind the column. Loki watched her with no small amount of confusion. She'd courageously throw herself wholeheartedly into battle to protect her precious Midgard, but Odin had scared her all but into hiding with only a few words. The Allfather was imposing, Loki would give the man that, but to cow a woman that so brazenly stood toe to toe with him and others that actively posed a threat to her…he couldn't understand it. What was he missing?

"Father, listen, these are the Avengers. They are the mightiest warriors Earth has to offer and this newest threat is not to be taken lightly," Thor began explaining.

Taylor blinked and slid a sideways look to Loki, keeping her voice low so as not to draw attention to them.

"He asked permission for this, didn't he?"

"He had Odin's blessing to take me to Midgard to determine and stop the threat," Loki replied.

She grimaced, staying frozen to her position while things were so heated. Everyone in the room was quiet, even Tony for once, awkwardly witnessing the heated exchange between father and son.

"I am sure that whatever the threat is, our warriors will suffice to face it. Take them back to Midgard, let them protect their own realm," Odin commanded angrily.

"That is what we assumed when the Dark Elves came and look what happened," Thor pointed out, "hundreds of our own people were injured and killed, and mother…"

The white-haired man cut him off simply by raising a hand, and Taylor couldn't stop herself from wincing slightly (which Loki noticed), but all that happened was that the prince's words were cut off. Her shoulders dropped with relief, even though it was a bit of an overreaction—it hadn't even really looked like Odin was going to hit Thor. She seriously needed a vacation after this.

"What about me now?" a serene, feminine voice asked.

The woman that Taylor assumed to be Queen Frigga entered the room, draped in a gorgeous blue dress with a shimmery golden shawl around her shoulders. Her hair was trapped in a long braid that fell over one shoulder. Intelligent blue eyes scanned the gathered people, something like relief flooding her timeless features when she finally spotted Loki in the back, at the top of the steps and by the columns. Her gaze paused a moment on the woman only a few feet from him, hair so black it looked blue and wide azure eyes that were surprisingly honest.

"Nothing, mother," Thor lied quickly, but the queen obviously saw through it and did the royal equivalent of an eye roll before offering the group of Midgardians a welcoming smile.

"We are honored to welcome you to Asgard, protectors of Midgard," she told them, placing a hand on her husband's arm gently, "and we are grateful for your service."

There was a long moment of silence before Tony broke it, respectful as usual.

"I like this lady."


Loki stood, already shackled, runes engraved on the cuffs suppressing his magical abilities. He was not muzzled, a small blessing, but he had to consciously force his cheeks from burning. Taylor stood off to one side, between the Allfather's mighty throne and the trickster god. She looked misplaced and uncomfortable in her Midgardian garments, standing in a room where everyone else was dressed in metal armor or royal dressings. He didn't even understand why she had to be present for this—none of the other Avengers, save for Thor, were present.

"Loki of Asgard, the punishment for your crimes has already been decided, and despite the short intermission in your sentence, you will continue your penance as decreed," Odin stated into the silent room.

The younger god's emerald gaze flicked sideways, to Taylor, who was shifting uneasily, looking as though there was something she badly wanted to say. Best to beat her to it, before she incurred the Allfather's wrath. The superheroes were already skating on thin ice with his adopted father.

"Predictable as ever," Loki replied to the king, as though pleased, unable to keep himself from some snide remark.

Taylor shot him a look that managed to be both blank and severe at the same time. He hid a smirk at the expression, proud that he could flare her temper with three words that weren't even meant for her. Try as she might to hide it, Loki knew she was concerned for him. She'd been inexplicably kind to him while they'd been on Midgard; he'd decided to at least attempt to quell some of her worry in return. He wasn't generally inclined to feel indebted to anyone, especially for treating him as he should be treated, but Taylor had good intentions; he would make an exception just this once.

Frigga caught the momentary contact between the two, silent but meaningful nonetheless, and a small bit of hope for her son flared in her chest. She hadn't seen him look at anyone like that in a long time, short-lived as it was, but so very honest. If anyone knew when Loki was putting on an act, it was Frigga. She could detect his lies from a mile away, but this was no deception. The almost playful look he'd sent the Midgardian woman was genuine.

"Is there something you'd like to say, young lady?" she invited gently.

Taylor's eyes snapped to hers, clearly startled, and she fidgeted a moment under everyone's gaze, trying to find the words. Thor, understanding his young friend's apprehension, placed a large, reassuring hand on her shoulder. Letting out a steadying breath, she dropped her hands and hesitantly began.

"We still need Loki's help. He knows the locations of the gateways better than anyone and his knowledge as of this moment is invaluable…" she paused here, clearly trying to organize her racing thoughts into cohesion; her eloquence surprised the king and queen, "locking him in a dungeon will not only make him difficult to access for his expertise, but also vulnerable if our enemy realizes his importance in stopping them."

Having stated her point, without lying no less, she lapsed into silence, eyes darting first to Odin, then Thor, Loki, and finally Frigga, who nodded at the younger woman slightly, pleased. The Allfather leaned forwards in his golden seat, and it was hard to determine if the small smile on his face was genuine or one of condescension.

"What do you suggest then, my dear?"

She swallowed thickly before taking a fortifying breath in, shaking her instinct to look away. He may have been the Allfather, but it wasn't like he was going to hurt her or anything. Besides, Thor was right there beside her, no need to freak out.

"Maybe just leaving him as he was on Earth? The Avengers and Thor are all here to watch him. The way I see it, there's no more risk in allowing him to wander around here than there…as long as someone keeps an eye on him anyway."

Loki felt something in his chest shift and he wasn't sure if it was pleasant or not. He'd call it heartburn, but not as painful. By all rights, he should be telling her to shut up. Never before had he let someone fight his battles for him, and he was reluctant to do so now. However, knowing the look on Odin's face, the Allfather was seriously considering her proposition, and Loki would rather swallow his pride for a moment than be constricted to that cell again so soon.

"As long as someone keeps an eye on him," the king repeated thoughtfully before levelling the superhero with a flat look, "like you?"

To her credit, she only stumbled for a fraction of a second before answering—hardly noticeable to anyone other than Loki. Obviously, this scenario hadn't occurred to her when she'd decided to bargain for more time for him.

"Yes," she replied confidently, "like me."

Frigga and the Allfather exchanged glances. The queen was rather surprised and grateful that the Midgardian woman would intervene on her son's behalf. The two hadn't known each other for very long at all, she knew that, and Loki couldn't have been very easy to be around, but still she tried to help him. As for Odin, he was begrudgingly impressed with her boldness and honesty. She spoke passionately, but well, with control. Neither one doubted that despite her quiet exterior, she was a warrior worthy of her title as one of Midgard's defenders. There was power surging in those veins—enough to hold Loki in check, anyway.

"Very well then," Odin began decisively, "you will be his keeper until such time that our mutual enemy has been stopped. You will be held responsible for his actions and any damages he causes during this time. Do you understand?"

She pretended as though the task didn't intimidate her and nodded. Keep Loki under control? It sounded nearly impossible. Loki smirked to himself, seeing endless possibilities for mischief in the near future.

"Got it," she confirmed verbally as well, as if to reassure herself.

The king waved a hand at the man standing before his throne.

"Release him from his chains."

The guards came forward, hesitantly, and unlocked them. Loki jerked, as if he were about to attack and they stumbled back, clearly startled. Taylor simply rolled her eyes and turned back to the Allfather, not sure what to say. It was weird to say "thank you" considering she hadn't exactly asked for a personal favor (although it truthfully was one) so she decided instead for a simple nod of the head and looked at Thor. He smiled at the much shorter woman and jerked his head towards where the trickster god was already leaving.

"Wait up," she groaned, trailing after his quick steps, "your legs are ridiculously long."

When both had disappeared down the hall, Thor turned to his father, pleased that Taylor had managed to convince him to allow Loki some freedom, but confused as to why.

"What caused this change of heart, father?"

"She is a persuasive woman," the older man explained with a rarely seen amused smile, "and your mother believes there may be some hope for Loki after all."

Thor turned away, towards where the two dark-haired individuals had disappeared. He'd known that Taylor was a positive influence, despite her own negative upbringing, but could she really influence his brother into becoming the man he had once been? The prince hoped so, or else he would be forced to watch the one he'd called brother for years rot away in a prison cell.