Ego Operor Quis Volo

Warnings: none

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Jane sprinted after Loki as fast as her legs could carry her, but considering the relative height difference, it was a tough job. Just as she emerged into the front hall, Loki pulled her to a halt beside the door, between the window and the doorframe.

"Loki, what the hell-?" Jane demanded, but Loki hushed her.

"We don't know who's coming, Jane. If it's one of Laufey's men, I don't want you in the line of fire. Just wait and let Nat do her job," he replied, an odd ferocity in his voice. Jane sighed but nodded, prompting a narrow-eyed glare from Loki.

They waited for a few moments, Jane's nerves increasingly on edge and tautening, like a bowstring, ears straining for any sign of what was going on. Loki stood waiting, with one hand on Jane's waist, the other behind his back. She didn't need three degrees to guess what he was holding in his other hand.

She heard a high-pitched shriek, a muffled groan and then…. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

Jane's brow furrowed. She knew that voice.

So did Loki.

Loki sighed. In the rush to leave London undetected and lose any prospective tail, he'd forgotten about Thor's girlfriend. This was one confrontation he really wasn't looking forward to. He glanced down at Jane, noting that she'd recognised the voice of the woman who had helped cause her divorce as her jaw firmed and a scarifying glint appeared in her eyes. Oh dear…

"So, I'm guessing you're going to want to get out here, Loki," Nat's voice came over the comms, sounding slightly out of breath and annoyed. "Because I'm sure as hell not explaining this…"

With a sigh and a warning glance at Jane, he stepped away from their cover and opened the front door. Outside, Nat had Sif in a headlock, the latter's dark curls tangled in Nat's hand. Loki was sure that was at least part of the reason for Sif's pained expression, though the bruise blossoming on her jaw line might have had something to do with it too. Nat never did play nice, he recalled with a certain amount of wry amusement.

He stepped out first, making sure to block Sif's view of the doorway, keeping Jane out of sight. He just hoped she would take the hint and stay hidden until he dealt with Sif.

"Sif! What are you doing here?" he asked, nodding in Nat's direction. "Nat, let her go."

The Black Widow did as he asked, stepping back with a gleam in her eyes. From the corresponding bruise blooming on Nat's own face, he surmised Sif had initially given as good as she got. But she was still only an ordinary British Army officer - no match for a trained ex-KGB, CIA spy.

Sif straightened slowly, obviously a bit winded, eying Loki narrowly. "I could ask you the same question, Loki," she replied curtly. "This is a crime scene. No one's supposed to be here-"

"Which still begs the question: what are you doing here, Sif?" Loki interrupted her, not in the mood for Sif's attitude. He got along with her well enough normally, despite how her relationship with Thor started, but he had no time and no patience left to conceal his dislike at that moment.

Sif glared at him, before huffing discontentedly. "I was just driving past when I noticed the front gate was unlocked. The police cordoned the house off so I thought someone might have broken in, or the kidnappers came back-" she began to explain, before Nat butted in scornfully.

"So you thought you'd just come storming in and catch them red-handed," she asked, snorting derisively. "Smart. Not."

Sif's eyes narrowed. "You want to go again, carrot-head?" she snarled. Nat's eyes gleamed in challenge.

"Enough, both of you!" Loki cut across them with a growl, rolling his eyes. Sif had always been combative, but this was a new level. He was just glad that Jane seemed to be heeding his unspoken order and stayed out of sight. "Sif-"

"What's going on, Loki?" she demanded hotly. "Why are you here? Who's this Emma Peel wannabee?"

To Nat's credit, she didn't react to the new jibe beyond an elegantly contemptuous raised eyebrow, folding her arms and staying silent. Loki mentally sighed.

"Nat's been tasked to keep an eye on me, just in case whoever took Mum, Dad and Thor comes for me too. The police think the kidnapper might have some weird fixation on the family," he smoothly lied, gesturing to the empty house behind them. "I was just picking some stuff up before they take me somewhere safer."

Sif's eyes sparked at his exclusion of her from the family unit, but she nodded, seemingly accepting his explanation. He noticed the dark circles under her eyes, and felt himself soften. Disapprove of and dislike her, he might but he knew Sif loved Thor to distraction. "They'll find him, Sif. I'll ask the police to keep you informed of any developments," he offered abruptly, making Sif stare at him with shock.

"Thanks, Loki. I'll just be on my way then-" she said, half-turning away when Loki shifted slightly, and the blood drained from her face. "What the hell is she doing here!?"

Loki closed his eyes involuntarily, gritting his teeth with exasperation. When he turned to look behind him, Jane had appeared on the doorstep and his movement had left her open to Sif's view.

"She's under the same protection as me," he said, hoping to fend off any more explosions from Sif, or God forbid, a full-blown confrontation. He dimly recalled Jane never encountered Sif after Thor asked for a divorce, or vice-versa.

"Why? She's not a member of the family anymore," Sif said through gritted teeth. Loki flinched, but before he could intercede, Jane had marched past him and straight up to Sif. The diminutive woman glared up at the statuesque soldier, dismissive contempt sparking in her eyes.

"This isn't a competition, you stupid cow," Jane stated. "Now, if you're quite finished…." she trailed off, before pulling her arm back and delivering a quite impressive sucker punch to Sif's jaw. "That," Jane panted. "Was for having an affair with my husband."

Sif had fallen on her backside from the force of Jane's hit, staring up at the smaller woman in shock and pain. Jane rotated her fist, wincing as her knuckles ached, before walking past the other woman without a second glance. Loki and Nat stared after her, wide-eyed. It was only their training that stopped their jaws from dropping too.

Nat looked at Loki and put her hands up. "This one's all yours. I'm with Jane," she pronounced, before turning tail and following after the other woman. Loki sighed as he turned to help the stunned soldier to her feet.

After leaving the Odinson house, they drove south. Thanks to a pile-up on the A34, they didn't reach the MI6 safe house in Portsmouth until nearly six o'clock in the evening, as the sun started to sink beneath the horizon.

In the back of the car, Jane stared moodily at her swollen knuckles. Despite how much they hurt, she couldn't find it in herself to regret striking Sif. She'd never wanted to play the scorned ex-wife, but seeing her again, watching her interact with Loki, had made all the impotent rage and humiliation come rushing back. It had left her feeling scored and beaten, but still in control until Sif had seen her. Until Sif had reminded her of the family she was no longer a part of, and how Sif obviously was, even if she and Thor hadn't got married yet. Reminded her exactly why she was no longer a part of the Odinson family. She didn't exactly regret divorcing Thor necessarily; it was more the humiliation of how it came about that still stung.

After making it back to the car, Nat had joined her a few moments later, complimenting her on her right hook. Clint had joined them a few minutes later, sliding silently into the front passenger seat. Loki had followed last, silent and grave, not looking at Jane as they drove away. It had made something in Jane's stomach sink, and she had looked away, out the car window as the Cotswolds had given way to miles of dull tarmac motorway. They'd stopped at a petrol station to refuel, and Loki made a phone call to his superior in London to apprise him of their destination, then they'd driven on. The teeth-clenching monotony of it had put Jane even more on edge.

Eventually, they reached the outskirts of Portsmouth, before turning off the main roads and following a circuitous route down several country roads before stopping beside the gate to an old farming track. From there they'd walked to a small cottage, rundown on the outside, but inside it was warm and snug, with beds, hot water and food. Loki had told her it used to be an old smuggler's haunt, with tunnels running down to the coast, or back towards Portsdown Hill and the Downs, making it an excellent location for the security services to hide away persons of interest or any agent needing to lie low.

Jane gratefully accepted the offer of a shower from Nat while the three intelligence agents set up the safe house and checked the perimeter. The hot water had stung her hand, but she did her best to ignore it as she washed away the grease and grime from three days without a shower.

When she left the bathroom, she found a fresh pair of jeans and a roll neck jumper waiting for her, as well as fresh underwear. The jeans were a little big on her, but she relished the feel of fresh clothes too much to care. Her hand twinged again, making her wince. She needed some ice.

At that moment, there came a knock on the bedroom door.

"Come in!" she called, turning her back to the door as she tugged her wet hair out of her top.

"Here, I thought you might like some ice for that hand," Loki's voice made her flinch in surprise, as she spun around to find him proffering an ice pack and a towel. "Clint's making pasta, if you're hungry."

"Famished, thanks," Jane smiled warmly, glad that his mood of the morning seemed to have dissipated. She winced as her bruised knuckles complained as she uncurled them to take the ice pack, sparking concern in Loki's eyes.

"Here, let me," he said quietly, reaching slowly for her hand, giving her plenty of time to draw away if she wanted to. Jane let him take her hand, touching her as gently as spun glass, pressing the towel-covered ice pack to her sore knuckles. She winced at the cold, but it soon became soothing as they stood together, his hand gently clasping hers, holding the ice pack against her skin. "How are you feeling? Are you…alright?" he asked, a tad awkwardly.

Jane knew he was referring to her confrontation with Sif. "I wasn't," she admitted. "It still stings."

"I can only imagine," Loki replied, his thumb brushing gently over the back of her hand. Jane trembled, feeling the gesture more intimate than a kiss. "Do you still love Thor?"

She looked up into his eyes, trying to read them and finding, to her surprise, that she could. He wasn't trying to hide, or to pry for his own ends. He was genuinely concerned for her and wanted to know.

"Not the way I used to," she said. "Once, I idolised him. He was the walking, talking Greek God come to life in front of me, and he wanted me. And he wasn't just handsome, sure he was cocky but he could be sweet and considerate too. Before he was deployed."

Loki sighed. He had noted the change in his brother immediately, when he came home from deployment to Afghanistan. Thor refused to talk about anything but the most banal anecdotes from his tour of duty, but there were shadows there in his eyes where they hadn't been before. He imagined Jane saw even more, being his wife, more than Thor would have wished her to.

"I knew something was wrong, but he just wouldn't talk to me. I tried everything, talked to him, gave him space, suggested a counsellor," Jane continued, her voice small and forlorn as she remembered the past. "He just shut me out. And turned to one of the few people he could still relate to, I guess."

"Maybe," Loki conceded begrudgingly. "But it wasn't your fault. You didn't deserve what he did to you, Jane. He didn't deserve you at all."

Jane snorted. "Yeah, sure."

"I mean it," he pressed, insistently. He tilted her chin up so he could meet her eyes, tear-fogged and so sad, his lungs felt like they might stop working. "You're a thousand times the woman Sif could ever be."

Jane's breath hitched, as her eyes darted down to his lips. Loki felt his heart judder to a stop, as he found himself leaning into her, her breath warm on his lips.

Jane's heart was thudding to a staccato beat, her eyes fixed on that mouth that had just been saying such sweet, loving things. Words she didn't know she had needed to hear, like a warming balm on the wounds she had carried for years since her divorce. She would never have believed they would come from Loki. With a shiver, she began to roll up onto her toes, the better to reach his mouth.

"Hey guys, you want dinner or do I need to pop out for some rubbers!?" Clint's gruff voice startled them out of their trance, making Jane jump. Then she realised the meaning behind Clint's question and went bright red.

Loki sighed, running a hand over his face, as she ducked out of the room past him without meeting his eyes. He followed after a moment, going downstairs to the kitchen where Clint was plating up while Nat strategically hid her snickering in the fridge.

"Charming, thanks Clint," Loki muttered under his breath as he handed him a bowl of pasta, Jane already sat devouring hers and studiously avoiding eye contact with anyone.

"I got your back, bud," Clint clapped him on the shoulder, making Loki roll his eyes as he turned away. He still sat down beside Jane at the scrubbed wooden table to eat his dinner. Nat emerged from her icy hiding place, her lips still suspiciously twitching, and they ate in silence.

Halfway through his bowl, Loki's trained senses picked up the sound of footsteps on the gravel outside. As one, Loki, Clint and Natasha all paused in their meal and eyed the door into the front hallway. Jane looked up from her pasta, noticing the sudden tension in the room, and quietly placed her fork down.

"What's wrong…?" she went to ask, softly but Loki hushed her by placing a finger to his lips. Jane's heart rate shot up, as the three agents all silently rose from their seats, Clint reaching for the holster slung over the back of his chair, while Loki went to the cutlery drawer. Natasha bent under the table, pulling a gun from underneath it and taking a protective stance beside Jane. With a gentle push from the Russian, Jane slid off her seat and onto one knee behind the table, ready to turn and scramble away if something happened. But was something about to?

They heard the low beep as the security keypad on the front door was bypassed, then the heavy creak of the old oak as it was pushed inwards. Jane held her breath, senses desperately straining as she tried to work out what was going on. If whoever was out there knew the keycode to get in, surely they couldn't be a bad guy…right? It seemed the other three weren't taking any chances, regardless.

"Any more room at the inn?" a deep baritone voice inquired, almost cheerfully, if a one could call a voice that resembled the grinding of a glacier cheerful. Jane breathed a sigh of relief as she recognised the voice of 'H', Loki's section chief.

"Sir!" Loki breathed, lowering his weapon slightly. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"We've yet to identify the mole in our section," 'H' admitted. "Until we do, we can't take the risk that they can tap into our communications and eavesdrop. Hence, I'm here incognito."

"No offence, sir," Clint snorted, as he lowered his gun and holstered it once more. "But you left incognito behind at the gym."

As Jane finally straightened up, hauling herself back up to a standing position, she could see Clint's point. With his Mr Universe physique, 'H' was the opposite of inconspicuous. "Doctor Foster, good to see you again," he inclined his head to her, before glancing towards the table. "Any leftovers?"

After eking out their dinner for five instead of four, everyone settled back down to eat. Jane barely managed another bite, her stomach in knots as she waited for 'H' to finish so he could tell them his news. She noticed Loki was the same, while Natasha picked at her food. Clint and 'H' ate like a pair of starved wolves.

Finally, dinner was over as Clint stacked up their plates, tutting at the others' lack of appetite, whistling quietly to himself as he started washing up. Nat poured out some tea for everyone, while Loki looked expectantly to 'H'. "What have you found, sir?" he asked.

'H' looked grave as he reached into his coat and retrieved a manila folder. "With the security breach, I didn't want to risk a USB. No doubt the mole will have flagged these files, so they'll know what I'm about to tell you, and in his turn, Laufey as well. If you're correct, Agent Odinson, then it's immaterial. Laufey already knows."

"Knows what?" Jane asked, brow furrowed. "How is any of this connected to Project Pegasus and Erik's death?"

"Coincidence, or bad luck," 'H' shrugged. "Depends on your perspective. Loki, fill them in?"

"Just after leaving the Cotswolds, I contacted 'H' and asked him to do some digging on my behalf. As a section chief, he would have access to archives that I don't have clearance for," Loki explained, glancing at her, his knuckles white where he cupped his hands together atop the table. "Remember what Laufey said? 'Even the mighty Odinson family has its secrets'. He also said that he expected my search to be 'revelatory'. Laufey knew something, about my family, something which he's using to draw me to him. The connection to the Pegasus Project, I suspect, is simply happenstance, an unhappy accident that Erik Selvig was connected to you, and you to us, Jane."

"What secret?" Jane asked, frowning darkly. She didn't particularly like the notion that Erik's murder and her once again chaotic life was simply a side-effect of some psychopath's game. Loki shook his head, glancing questioningly to 'H' for an answer.

"I did some digging," the section chief took up the narrative. "Ran archival searches on all your family members. Nothing came up on either your mother or brother, as expected. Your father, however…" he trailed off, sliding the folder over to Loki. Jane debated reading over his shoulder, then rejected the notion. She wasn't a child.

Loki took the folder and opened it, quickly scanning the document. His already pale face whitened further, and his hands tightened on the file. Jane looked to 'H' in alarm, her eyes wide.

"Oliver Odinson worked for us during the Cold War," he explained, reluctantly. "He was SAS at the time, and one of their best black ops operatives. He was also point on the operation to take Laufey down when he worked for the KGB."

"So that's the link?" Natasha asked, leaning in, as Jane pondered the new information. While interesting, some instinct told Jane it wasn't the whole story, not if Loki's body language was anything to go by. "An old grudge match? But Laufey escaped capture, even after the dissolution of the USSR."

"And Odinson the Senior gave up the hunt, quite willingly too. That, I fear, isn't the revelation Laufey was referring to in his message to Loki," 'H' sighed, glancing at the silent agent pensively. Even Clint had stopped what he was doing, eyes set intently on Loki's face.

"Loki?" Jane breathed, reaching out to touch his arm. He flinched, then stood from the table and stormed from the room, the file still in his shaking hand. Jane watched him go, jaw agape and heart pounding at the anguish in his eyes, unfettered and undisguised, for all to see. Instinctively, she rose to follow, uncaring about everyone else's eyes watching her, when Natasha's hand caught her elbow.

"Be careful, Jane," she breathed. "I don't know what's in that file, but it's enough to rattle him."

"Loki wouldn't hurt me," Jane replied, just as soft as she was sure of that.

"He might not mean to," Natasha warned her. "I've never seen him so…whatever is in that file, it's not good. Just…tread carefully."

Unsettled, Jane left the room and followed Loki, feeling the penetrating gaze of all three intelligence agents on her back as she left.

She found him in the bedroom they'd left earlier, sitting on the bed and staring unseeingly at the darkened wall. "Loki?" she called gently, not wanting to startle him but not wanting to upset him further if her presence was unwelcome. Silently, she sat down on the bed a short distance away, giving him his space.

In truth, a part of her was scared. Loki was always so collected, so sure of himself; and yet here he was, collapsed and curling in on himself, shutting out the world and everything in it. Because of whatever was in that file.

Steeling herself, Jane simply waited.

Eventually Loki seemed to acknowledge her presence, as a pale hand pushed the file towards her. Jane took a shuddering breath and pulled the file to her, flicking it open and scanning the papers inside intently. Most of it was exactly what 'H' had told them in the kitchen, Oliver's involvement with MI6 and the SAS during the Cold War, and the series of operations that culminated in the attack on the Jotunheim compound, in northern Russia, not far from Murmansk, on 6th December 1981. The attack had been unsuccessful, and there had been no sign of Laufey or the Politburo spy they'd been sent to extract. But that wasn't all.

A child had been found alive in the cells of the compound, starving and barely living. A child Oliver Odinson had rescued and taken back to the UK. And adopted, thirty-one years ago.

Jane's jaw gaped slightly, as the implications dawned on her. Thirty-one years ago, a rescued child, adopted by his rescuer…Loki.

Jane gingerly placed the file down, looking up into the burning, angry eyes of the man that adopted child had become. Tears fell down his cheeks, but he was seemingly unaware of them as his gaze bored into hers.

"This is what Laufey meant, the secret my father kept from me," Loki stated, his words cold and dead compared to the burning anguish in his eyes. Undaunted, Jane moved closer, taking his hands in hers tightly, the need to comfort rising inside her like a wave. "The secret to kill for, to die for. I was never my father's son. They lied to me."

"Loki," Jane breathed soothingly, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his hands. His tension slowly began to dissolve, as he leaned into her. Jane pressed another kiss to his hair, not letting herself think, as his strong arms came around her waist and pulled her to him, enfolding her tightly. She held him and stroked his hair, pretending she didn't feel hot tears against the curve of her neck.

To be continued…