"What are you DOING here?" Sierra demanded, face as red as her hair. He shrugged innocently. "Found a place to sleep."
"In OUR studio? Really?"
"Looks like it. I'm going to go now. I hope to never see you again, Miss. Dyer. Here's your key. I have no need of it."
She laughed, her eyebrows raised. "For the God of Lies, you are a terrible liar. If you don't want it, get rid of it yourself."
He sighed. "I am your king, darling," Sarcasm dripped from his voice. "This is not my duty."
She laughed. "Three things, Loki Laufeyson." He flinched at the use of his name. How did she know it? "One, you're not my king, two, it is your duty. There's a trash can over there. And three, I'm not your darling."
Without another word, she disappeared into another room, followed by everyone else. Loki sighed heavily, before inspecting the key in his hand and lobbing it out the window into the street. He had no need of puny mortals, he was Loki, King of Asgard.
And, he realized a few minutes later, he had no options.
He finally went and sat down outside the studio. Sierra didn't reappear until almost noon, and she seemed very surprised to see him sitting there. "You stayed. Do you really want to stay with me?"
"Well, want is a bit strong. More like I don't a choice," he said harshly. She laughed. "You threw away the key, otherwise you would have gone by now. Come on, let's walk home."
She began to walk down the street and he followed her. "How did you know that I threw the key away?" he wondered.
"Sherlock," she said, as if that explained everything. We can watch it tonight?"
"What makes you say we are going to watch anything tonight?" he said coldly.
"Me," she said, smiling. It didn't seem sarcastic, though, for some reason. It seemed genuine.
"Is this like your idea of therapy or something?" he scowled at her.
"If that's what you want to make it. You can hate me every day, too, if you want, but that might not work so well."
"Are you even good? Are you plotting to kill me or something? Are you going to bring me to S.H.I.E.L.D?"
She smiled knowingly. "Want me to prove that I'm alright?"
He crossed his arms. "I'm ready to watch, little mortal."
She stared up at the cloudy sky. "Heimdall?" she asked.
Suddenly, a rainbow-hued light enveloped her, pouring down from the sky. Loki stared, openmouthed, but then realized that the light was his ticket home. He ran at it, but suddenly, the light disappeared. She just smiled. "How on Earth did you do that?" he asked, dumbfounded. She grinned. "I watch things. And I have a friend named Jane Foster."
He groaned. "Jane Foster, I hate her."
She laughed. This strange girl who he despised and yet could not leave alone waved her arm, and a yellow car sped towards them. The door opened and she got in. "Coming?" she asked. He sighed and got in, and the car sped off down the street. A few minutes later, the car stopped in front of a familiar apartment building. She got out and he followed.
They walked up a few flights of stairs, and she unlocked a door, number 408, he noticed. She gestured for him to go inside. "Well, here's my pad. Spare bedroom's right there, food's in the fridge. Make yourself at home. Oh, and my room's locked for a reason, please don't go in."
"Which room is yours?" he asked, feigning curiosity. "The T.A.R.D.I.S room. Bigger on the inside."
"What's a T.A.R.D.I.S?"
"Time and Relative Dimensions in Space. Basically, a blue phone box."
"What on Asgard does a blue phone box have to do with space?"
"Long story. I gotta get back, see you at 5 or so."
She grabbed a container out of the fridge, and then she was gone.
Instantly, he walked over to the blue door she had gestured to earlier. It really was cleverly painted. It had windows in the top of it, and a sign which he didn't bother to read. There were two handles. He pulled on one and looked at it oddly when a small compartment opened and an old-fashioned phone swung out. "What on Earth?" he cursed. "This is the dumbest door I've ever seen. It has no purpose. He closed the phone box and tried the other handle. "Not locked," he grinned, evilly, and let himself into the room.
It was the same room he had seen in his dreams, when he was lying on the bed. It had a colorful comforter on it, with different stripes of color. He lay down on it, looking around. A window seat with a plump cushion overlooked New York. The walls and shelves were an eclectic mix of posters and paintings. A long brown trench coat sat on a chair. A yellow smiley face was painted on the wall with what appeared to be spray paint. There were the same posters he had seen, Wicked, Newsies, and others. Drawings and sketches hung everywhere, of strange things, from a man in a black coat jumping off a building to a girl with blonde hair so long it hung all over the floor, holding a frying pan. There was a large bullitin board, simply labeled: Fangirl Feels, and it had pictures and sketches all over it as well. What appeared to be a sword hung on the wall, alongside a bright red bowtie. All in all, it was the weirdest room he had ever seen, and he hated it. Getting up, he went out and closed the blue door.
Going into the spare bedroom, he found it much simpler, and very boring. "Why do I stay here?" he wondered. "This is the dumbest idea. I just want to rule them!"
Worlds away, Thor sat with Heimdall. "Who is she?" he asked.
"A mortal, with great abilities. She watches, and listens, and will not lead him astray."
"Why did you open the Bifrost for her?"
"To tell him that she is where he belongs. Who knows, this Sierra Dyer might change Loki for the better."
"Or for the worse," worried the thunder god.
"Give her a chance. She seems to know what she is doing. She will not let him rule anyone, much less her. She is a free spirit."
"Are you absolutely sure this is wise?"
Heimdall nodded. "It is so, and it shall be so, unless it is not. Trust in her, she seems wise for her years."
Thor nodded. "If it is what you think is best."
Heimdall said nothing, just went back to watching the stars with ageless eyes.