Ego Operor Quis Volo

Warnings: none

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

23rd July 2012,

MI6 transport plane, somewhere over the North Sea

2200 hrs

Loki had done some terrifying things in his career, exploits and missions that would make a sane man cower. He'd always known he wasn't entirely sane; a lifetime of inferiority complexes and daddy issues as Tony called them, had helped him come to that conclusion.

But as he sat under the steely glare of the petite brunette sitting opposite, he reflected he'd rather taken on an entire squad of Black Hand smugglers, or assassins, or Al Qaeda guerrilla fighters, than the prospect facing him then.

Being interrogated by Doctor Jane Foster.

Hawkeye and Nat would be no help. One was up front in the cockpit, piloting their small plane homeward, while the other was probably watching them on the security feed from the other cabin, cackling into her popcorn.

He'd been trained to resist interrogation, of course. MI6 training methods weren't exactly orthodox, or even legal, but then again their enemies wouldn't be either, if they fell into their hands. But even the burliest interrogator, or the most sadistic professional torturer, didn't hold as much trepidation for Loki as the sight of his brother's ex-wife sitting opposite him.

He shifted under her gaze, mentally cursing himself. Luckily, while intelligent, Jane wasn't trained in body language so she couldn't possibly know he was….

"I'm not going to bite, you know," she frowned at him, the glare dissipating slightly as she watched him. Her coat and blouse were thrown aside, leaving her in her vest, her long dark hair falling over one shoulder. Her keen brown eyes watched him intently. He looked at her questioningly, and the tiniest hint of a smile softened her features. "You always fidget like that when you're nervous."

Mentally stunned, Loki blinked, before hiding behind his usual confident mask. "You know me too well, Jane," he purred, forcing himself to relax and lean back in his seat, crossing his leg over his knee urbanely. The smile disappeared from Jane's face.

"Not as well as I thought," she murmured. The urbane smile fell from Loki's lips and he sighed.

"It was a necessary deception. No one could know what my real job was," he explained softly. "Lying is part of my job description. That doesn't mean I enjoy it, Jane."

"Liar," she smiled again, this time mirthlessly, and Loki hated the sight of that smile. "You've always enjoyed being one up on everyone all the time. This is no different."

He stiffened at that, but forced himself not to snap at her. She'd just been through a traumatic experience, she was allowed to be a bit angry. Especially with him.

But that misconception, while half-true, rankled too much to let go. "I didn't tell my father, or Thor, what I do for a living not just because of regulations, Jane. They would never have approved and not because of the risk to my life," he countered softly, holding her gaze as her glare finally disappeared, and now only curiosity filled those eyes.

It was the eyes, he decided. Her eyes were the most terrifying thing about her, that would make her a ruthlessly efficient interrogator in different circumstances. They lured one in, cajoled and comforted until one's defences fell at her knees and her victim would confess all. And she didn't really have a clue as to her power over him. Not a single clue.

"I'm sorry," she suddenly blurted out, looking down at her hands, watching the fingers intertwine and twist. An old habit of hers, when she was nervous. "I'm being cranky."

"An old…friend suddenly bursts back into your mundane, peaceful life without warning, telling a wild story of spies, international crime rings and stolen secrets, and within five minutes you've been shot at and then abducted and spirited away to safety by a dashing secret agent," he replied jokingly, with a grin. "I'd say you're allowed to be a little cranky."

"Mundane? Dashing?" she glared at him, and he inwardly chuckled. The firecracker was back. "My research was vital, I'll have you know! We were close to making a breakthrough-!" she trailed off as she realised he'd played her and she flushed scarlet. "If you weren't capable of slamming me onto my back before I could move an inch, I'd punch you for that!"

Loki grinned lasciviously, leaning forward in his seat, as she blushed, realised her double entendre. "I'll get you on your back anytime, sweetheart, just say the word," he purred, before he sobered, dropping the teasing as he reached for her hands. They were cold and calloused beneath his own, grazed from their mad dash from the Observatory. "I won't hurt you, Jane. Not now, not ever."

She watched his eyes closely, and he willed them to be as open as possible. He shut his mind off to the double meaning in his own words, forcing himself to remember the mission and the need for Jane to feel safe to be cooperative. He released her hands, and leaned back into his seat. "I'm sure you have questions?" he prompted gently. "I'll do my best to answer them."

"Isn't there some big, scary official act of Parliament stopping you from telling me anything?" she asked, frowning but with a teasing glint to her eye now.

"Well…only a little," he smiled at her. "It doesn't really matter-"

"You mean because they won't let me out of their sights until I sign the Official Secrets Act?" she retorted bluntly, the teasing glint gone again, and Loki cursed himself and the whole damned situation.

"Essentially," he admitted, reluctantly. Her quick wits were a bit of a pain, but he always knew that dazzling her or frightening her with his position and all it entailed wouldn't work on her. Intimidation would only make her defiant, and he needed her to trust him. To gain her trust, he needed to be as truthful as he could be, under the circumstances. "Look, Jane, I know this is a huge amount to take in. Your life has just undergone a huge upheaval again, and you must be angry. I'll try to be as truthful with you as I can be, but you're going to have to accept there are some things I simply cannot tell you, not because I don't want to. So ask whatever you want to, and I'll try to answer."

"Where'd you learn that, MI6 spy school?" she quipped sarcastically, and he chuckled despite himself.

"Yeah. Came first in diplomacy and sweet talk class," he joked.

"Yeah? How about arrogant bastardry?" she retorted, and he inclined his head.

"Touché," he muttered, before standing abruptly. "Can I get you anything before we begin? It's going to be a couple of hours before we land."

"A water would be great," she murmured, moving back from him as he edged down the aisle. He frowned down at her as she recoiled.

"I don't bite," he assured her, deliberately using her own words, and she gave him an odd, searching look.

"Don't you? How would I know?" she breathed, and he felt a shock to his gut like he'd been sucker-punched. She still didn't trust him and she was wary, for all their banter. He vowed, then and there, to regain her trust, pushing away the nebulous thought that his job might require that he break it again, if necessary.

He moved down the aisle, and into the secondary cabin where Natasha sat, retrieving two water bottles from a cooler. He couldn't see Nat's eyes in the soft lighting, but he felt her laughing at him. "Not a bloody word," he growled.

"I like her," she replied, regardless of his warning.

"You would," he muttered.

"Damn, have you got it bad," she chuckled, and Loki glared at her before making his escape, leaving her laughing to herself at his discomfort behind him.

Jane was used to upheaval in her life. It had practically been a permanent fixture in her life since her dad's death when she was a kid. Losing practically all contact with her mother, being farmed out to various relatives to be raised, then losing her mother for good, had made her quite tough beneath the scholarly exterior she'd always put on. She had a little core of carbon steel at her heart.

It had helped her when she and Erik stopped speaking before she married Thor. It had held her together when Thor had returned from Afghanistan, battle-scarred and traumatised. It had kept her going when Thor had asked for a divorce, when she'd left for a new life of exile in Norway.

But this latest upheaval seemed set to shatter it into pieces. As she waited for Loki to come back, her eyes ran over the leather journal that sat on a stowaway table beside Loki's seat opposite. It was all she had left of Erik.

A part of her was still in complete disbelief. Erik, involved with secret government agencies? Erik, murdered by terrorists? It just didn't fit her mental picture of the calm, methodical but deeply suspicious and cynical mentor she'd known since birth. But the proof of Loki's story had been stamped indelibly into her mind in the bullets whizzing past her head as they'd fled from the Observatory only hours before. It was in the journal as she reached out and took it, running her fingers over its worn, comforting surface. She almost thought she could still detect a hint of Erik's cologne in the battered pages, and tears filled her eyes.

She blinked them away, uncomfortable with mourning around strangers, as she heard footsteps in the cabin at the rear of the plane. She looked up, wiping her eyes, relieved she'd been too tired to bother with mascara when she'd dressed for work that morning.

As her eyes fell on the familiar figure and face walking down the long aisle towards her, water bottles in either hand, she reflected that she'd been as blind with him as she had been with Erik.

As long as she'd known him, as brother, friend, son and confidant; she always known he stood apart from his family and friends. He was as different from Thor as night was from day. But never, in a million years, had her logical, quick mind guessed the truth that lay beneath the mask. He was a spy, a secret agent.

He still looked the same. Tall, pale and statuesque, muscled but in a subtler way than Thor or his friends, handsome in a way that was both devilish and angelic. Dark green eyes that had always seemed expressive to her. Now she knew better, knew the mask he wore, the lies he lived as easily as breathing.

He had saved her life.

As she watched him walk towards her, his face carefully smooth and uncommunicative, she acknowledged the way her heart was pounding in her chest and the heat in her stomach. Her feelings towards him had always been torn, first as acquaintances when Thor had first brought her to meet his family, then as brother- and sister-in-law, and then after the divorce. She'd always been fiercely attracted to him, and that hadn't dimmed even with the revelations of his true identity. She was more torn than ever.

His words, his promise that he would never hurt her rang in her ears still, and she ached to believe him, to trust him again. To let her carbon steel core dissolve and lean on him, just for a little while.

But he was a master liar, a consummate manipulator. It wasn't his fault, it was just his job description. She wasn't sure she could trust a single word he said, or would say. But he had never lied before, not really. At least, not to her.

It was Thor who told her what his brother did for a living, and she had just accepted it. Loki never spoke about his job, and when they spoke about jobs, it had always been about hers. So no, he had never lied to her but only because she had never asked outright. She had believed the lie, the mask, along with everyone else.

But then she remembered that morning in her kitchen, when he had brought the divorce papers to her before she left for Norway, the raw anguish in his eyes, the anger in his tone, directed not at her but at his idiot of a brother as he'd often, affectionately, dubbed him. The yearning as their eyes had met for an infinitesimal moment.

So, Jane decided to take a chance. As Loki stopped in front of her, she let him see the pain, the grief in her heart and awaited his reaction with bated breath.

Something in his eye shifted, and he set the waters down on the side table, dropping to his knees and taking her hands. With a mental gasp, she saw his mask drop and she saw her own pain reflected back at her, tenfold. His eyes seemingly flickered to the rear cabin, and she followed his gaze, uncomprehending before realisation struck.

They were being watched.

"I am sorry, Jane," he whispered to her, and she looked back at him, inhaling shakily. He was a consummate liar. He wasn't lying now.

"I have a few questions," she offered, tentatively, as he let her hands go and she wished he hadn't. In a flash, that familiar mask was back up and he grinned in that achingly recognisable devil-may-care way that she'd always denied affected her. But his eyes held hers compassionately, without pity but supporting her, as an equal.

"When do we start?" he asked, teasingly, and she managed a small smile in return.

24th July 2012,

MI6 Headquarters, Thames House, London

1300 hrs

MI6 Headquarters was not at all like Jane had imagined. Apart from the impressive marble exterior, it looked the same as any other government department building.

Until one looked closer, saw all the security measures that went beyond the usual metal detectors and security guards waiting to check ID. There were cameras everywhere, and Jane was willing to bet, more than a few that weren't obvious either. Everyone who was in the foyer as Loki led her through looked the same, professional and uniform in dark suits and with the same focussed expressions. She eyed their jackets, wondering if they were armed beneath the innocuous material.

She sensed Loki's gaze, and felt his chuckle ripple through her like liquid warmth. "Don't worry, Jane. They won't bite," he assured her.

"Nice to know all you attack dogs are so well trained," she quipped back, and he laughed out loud that time, garnering stares and muttered comments.

"Ouch," he clutched his chest, as if shot, and grinned at her. "You wound me, Jane."

More chuckling drew her gaze to the two other agents who had followed Loki in Norway. Both were American, or sounded so from their accents. She'd barely spoken with them but had listened when Loki had spoken to them before they'd taken off from the landing strip in Tromsø. One was strong and muscular, his eyes hidden behind sunglasses yet nevertheless, Jane got the impression of unceasing alertness, as if his eyes never stopped roaming their surroundings, looking for threats. He was dressed simply, just jeans and a sports jacket.

The other took Jane's breath away. She was statuesque and sensually alluring, with her flowing red curls and long-limbed grace, lithe as a deer. She'd glimpsed her fight back at the Observatory, and she was as fast and deadly as a viper. A good match for Loki, she decided, remembering the way he'd taken out three of her would-be kidnappers, with the same fluid, ruthless precision as the woman he called Natasha.

Their interaction confused her a little bit. Jane had been in enough relationships to recognise the physical familiarity and ease that came with an intimate relationship, and while she noticed how tactile Loki and Natasha were with one another, there was something missing from their relationship which made her wonder if they were lovers or not. She wasn't sure if she wanted to acknowledge the hot swell of jealousy in her gut at the thought of the red-head being with Loki.

Just after the turnstiles and the metal detectors, they stopped in front of a row of lifts, and Loki turned to his colleagues with a devilish grin. "I'll see you later, if we survive…"

"So melodramatic!" Clint muttered. "See you for a few beers after you're done here. And good luck to you, Dr Foster," he nodded to Jane with a friendly smile, no longer so taciturn, and Jane couldn't help but smile back.

"I'll see you later, darling," Natasha stretched up to plant a kiss on Loki's cheek, winking at him, before she turned to Jane, who felt like she'd been punched in the gut again. Her eyes roved over her quickly, before she grinned and winked at Jane. "Take care of the scaredy cat in there, Foster. Make sure someone holds his hand…" she trailed off, with a pointed look at Loki as she went to join Clint, marching off in perfect unison to another part of the building. Jane heard Loki curse under his breath, and blinked, confused.

"Ok, what the hell was that?" she asked in a hiss, as Loki gestured for her to precede him into the lift.

"One of Nat's little jokes," he replied, almost growling, glaring at the opposite wall. Jane found herself looking at her hands, hating herself for every word when she spoke.

"So you and Natasha…? You're….?" she began, as Loki's glare was suddenly directed at her. To her horror, it softened into an intent, thoughtful stare. "I mean…"

"Jane, Nat and I are nothing more than friends and work colleagues," he told her gently. "We've had…liaisons in the past, but she's with someone now. There's nothing between us."

Jane resolutely focussed on the little display which showed their progress up the floors, when she felt the heat of Loki's body press against her own, in the cramped lift. Why don't they ever make these things bigger?

"So, she was just joking around?" she asked, more to try and deflect him than anything else, a strange sense of panic and anticipation beginning to coil in her stomach. She felt Loki's grin against her ear, and suppressed a shiver.

"A trick, to provoke your jealousy. It was aimed at me as well," he admitted, and Jane finally found the courage to turn, simultaneously stepping back so they weren't so close anymore.

"And why was it aimed at you? Or me, for that matter?" she asked, boldly, watching as Loki's eyes darted down to her lips as she spoke, and she swallowed. Hard.

But before he could speak, the lift dinged and the doors opened behind Jane. A cacophony of noise and activity swamped Jane's senses as she stepped out, trying to ignore the disappointment she felt, as Loki's comment just reached her above the noise.

"Saved by the bell. Welcome to MI6, Jane."

It seemed like complete chaos to Jane, but was in fact a complex of harmony of purpose and movement. Everyone had their allotted task, weaving in and around everyone else as they fulfilled it, each contributing to the whole sum of the equation. Jane could appreciate their purpose even if she didn't always agree with their methods. The world of academia and astrophysics were so far removed from this one, though, that Jane had never truly given much thought to it. Now, she was chin-deep in it all.

A good-looking blonde suddenly scurried over to them, dressed in a sharp suit, her curls bouncing with every movement. "Welcome back, Loki," she muttered, hurried. She didn't even look at Jane. "H wants to see you immediately. There's been a development in the situation with Laufey…"

Jane felt Loki's almost bored nonchalance dissipate into alertness, as she glanced sideways at him. Gone was the seductive tease, here instead was the hunter, the man who played chess with guns. It both made her shiver with unease and swallow hard with a sudden lust that made her even more uneasy than before.

"Sigyn, what is it?" Loki began to walk fast, so much so that Jane almost had to jog to keep up with him. He suddenly paused and looked back to her, before taking her hand and hauling her to his side in the chaos. Sigyn glanced at her then, and she could tell the blonde was not impressed with what she saw. But she also saw something else, something in her mien that seemed out of place in the focussed chaos of MI6. Something almost guilty…

"Loki," Sigyn's eyes flashed back to her companion, and Jane saw once more that flash of guilt. "I'm so sorry."

Loki's grip on her hand tightened abruptly, as he towed her away, towards an open set of double doors, leaving Sigyn in their wake, staring after them forlornly. Inside, it was even more chaotic, and Jane was surprised by the towering, dark-skinned gentleman that came striding across to them. "Loki!" he called, before his piercing gaze fell on her, and his expression softened somewhat. "Dr Foster. A pleasure."

"That remains to be seen," Jane muttered, slightly out of breath.

"H, what's happened?" Loki interrupted abruptly, his eyes intent on his superior's face. "What is the situation?"

H's focus shifted to Loki's face, and Jane thought she almost glimpsed sympathy in those cold, intense orbs. "Your parents and brother are missing. We are still awaiting confirmation, but there are strong indications that Laufey took them. The game has just begun…"

H left them there for a moment as his attention was called away elsewhere, both of them reeling. Jane's mind whirled. Thor, kidnapped? Strong, indomitable Thor, taken prisoner? She could barely form that image in her mind.

She felt Loki's hand around her own, and she turned to look at him and felt a thrill down her spine as he looked at her, a thrill of fear and exhilaration such as an observer feels watching the focussed intent of the wolf hunting its prey.

Loki wasn't upset, or in shock. He was readying himself for the hunt. Jane wondered again if she had ever really known him at all.

To be continued...