AN: Unbeta-ed, barely editted (I'm about to drop dead in sleep, god), so please forgive any mistakes that will be spotted.

History with Mischief

Are there some aces up your sleeve?

Have you no idea that you're in deep?

I dreamt about you nearly every night this week.

- Do I Wanna Know

Arctic Monkeys

Chapter 2

Darcy's been watching Jane for the past two weeks, and to say that she was starting to get annoyed and concerned for the astrophysicist would be a huge understatement.

Jane was fidgety, never staying in one place for very long. She kept pacing, her eyes either blank or flashing to look at everything all at once, wherever it may be that they went.

When Darcy had demanded Jane to tell her what was wrong, she merely shook her head and went back to bury herself under her research or plunged her self into her worrying state that had become a rather regular occurrence these past few weeks. Worrying over what, she couldn't really place. All that Darcy knew was that Jane was never like this before, even after the thing with Thor.

It only meant that something had happened, and despite what other people think, she's not blind enough not to see things like this.

Darcy was ready to pull her hair out. Even Erik couldn't get through the stubborn woman, and now that he was gone and she was left alone to deal with Jane…

She really didn't know what to do.

•

Jane glanced outside the window. The sun hung almost low in the sky, painting it with an orange tinge against the darkening blue. The sky was as clear as ever, and she was anxious to see once more the view of stars that gave her comfort like no other can.

She reached over the top of her desk, her eyes never leaving the glass windows as she stared blankly at the setting sun, and when she tipped the contents of the mug into her mouth, her tongue met nothing but air.

Jane frowned. She didn't even notice the lack of heat from inside the mug when she had touched it. She brushed it off, walking up to the counter where the coffee maker was stationed, and found that it, too, was empty.

She let out a strangled sigh through her teeth, looking through the cupboards and cabinets and drawers, even inside the refrigerator and microwave, to find that they had run out of coffee. All of the jars holding but a few granules of ground coffee that even combined weren't enough to make one cup of the bitter beverage, and the packs that they kept as stock were crumpled and torn in the garbage bins.

She stared at the empty coffee maker for a good length of time. Slowly, the pinched and irritated expression on her face deepened into a frown, her features scrunching up as she marched up to the kitchen sink. Jane almost smashed her cup under the faucet that she had almost ripped off as she let the water flow, eyeing the box of tea bags nearby with distaste as she turned to retrieve the kettle and began to fill it with the still running water.

She sniffled, and her vision began to blur and the back of her eyes began to burn. Blinking, her flooded eyes cleared, but as soon as it had, she felt hot trails streaming down her face.

Jane touched the tears that had spilled down her cheeks in surprise.

Once more, she had let the circumstances of the twists and turns of her life drive her to tears.

She watched as the tap water filled the steel kettle and flowed over the rim, the clear liquid streaming down the cold metal while burning tears streamed down to her chin. She was left immobile, staring only at the water as it forced itself into its very limited container. Her knuckles turned white as her grip on the handle tightened, her nails digging into the heel of her palm and slicing through the skin, and she felt herself cool down a little bit as the cold water ran over the nail-shaped cuts in her hand.

Jane felt it. She felt it all.

And all of it burned.

Every pent up emotion, every failed ambition, every hidden thought, every secret and lie and every screwed up truth was leaving her screaming as they seared through her very being.

All she wanted was to dump water over all of it and put them out, even just for a second. She wanted them to freeze, and she wanted to abandon them, even just for a moment. She wanted a coolness to wash over the fires of anger and guilt and dissatisfaction that kept on growing and growing in her chest.

Because she was angry; angry at herself for letting herself fall too deep into her love for the stars, for letting herself border on the edges of conventionalities and letting herself to topple over the edge, for letting her stubbornness push aside everyone else's concern that she was giving far too much of herself into her research, for letting the memory of Thor haunt her lonely days as she tried so desperately to find him once more. None of this had been enough, and she wanted to see more of the cosmos that was only barely out of her reach. She wanted to see the towering resplendence of Asgard. She wanted to see the beauty of different planets, feel the heat of different suns, trace the patterns of different constellations and asterisms in different skies…

All that Jane wanted was to see the whole of the nine realms.

The truth was, she was guilty. She was guilty that in the very core of it all, she was the reason behind her anger and discontentment.

She wanted to feel indifferent, even if it would make her colder.

She wanted to be stripped of her burdens and mistakes, even if she would end up lost.

She wanted to shut everything out, even if it would make her numb.

She wanted… she wanted…

Coffee.

She needed to get out.

Her face twisted in disgust. She was getting this worked up and upset, because of coffee? Or rather, the lack thereof?

Jane wrenched the faucet shut, leaving the full kettle and dirty coffee mug in the sink as she snatched her purse and coat before heading towards the door.

•

Jane kept her eyes downcast, trudging through the streets of Puente Antiguo as the dust from the roads and pavements clung to her boots and to the worn fabric of her jeans.

She didn't bother to look up at the people who walked by her way. After all, they wouldn't even really bother to look her direction, either. Puente Antiguo was a small enough town that you would more or less know the faces of mostly everyone residing within the area, if not be at least familiar with their names.

And as for her, she was just that crazy scientist, who preferred to live around the edges of the town, the odd woman who seemed to favour the company of heavenly bodies that are out of her reach rather than actual human contact. No one was very keen on trying to get close to her or at least try to get to know her, and in all honesty, she wasn't interested in associating herself with any of them, all the same. The feeling between her and the rest of this part of society was mutual.

She had been labelled as an outcast here, and she'd be lying if she said it bothered her.

Maybe it should have, though, she thought. Maybe if she acted a little bit more normal, or at least tried to, maybe things could have worked out differently, or more importantly, maybe things could have worked out for the better.

But she knew she'd only despise herself for forgoing her dreams to reach out to the stars. She knew that she would always wonder how her life would have turned out, as she lived her mundane life, thinking, wishing, dreaming… if only. And if she were to face the same choices again, she knew she'd still end up where she was right then.

So, what exactly was the point of regret?

Jane headed to the nearest decent diner in the area, not wanting to go back to her lab any time soon to be faced with reality. A woman stationed by the counter greeted her lazily as she came in, and Jane didn't acknowledge her. Out of the corner of her eye with her head still bowed down, she saw the woman, in her slightly dirtied apron and faded uniform, shrug as she scoffed quietly. Jane picked at random on which table to sit, not really caring, and muttered to the waiter who approached her order of black brewed coffee.

She looked around the diner, taking in the washed out walls and floor, the worn out booths and tables, and the faces of the people who border on familiarity and not. The staff had just opened the neon lights as the night almost descended upon them, casting an awful light on the cheap place.

She never truly noticed that before, never took the time to take any of it in for what they really were as she did now. She wished she hadn't.

Her eyes were drawn to a table, somewhere in the middle of the space, and even as the waiter had arrived and placed the steaming mug in front of her and she had curled her fingers around it, she was still staring.

Jane blew on the surface of her coffee and took a sip, not at all minding how the liquid scalded her tongue. As soon as she took her first gulp, she sighed contentedly in finally having her coffee. She hadn't noticed how close she was to crashing down with the lack of caffeine. Or maybe, the lack of sleep.

Her gaze stayed on the table that was a distance from her, not really knowing why she was looking at it, as her thoughts wandered and her stare turned blank.

She knew; she was an idiot.

How could she be so stupid as to let that man go just like that?

Whoever he was.

She even dared to believe that they would meet again, even if she let him walk away from her then and there. She didn't know if he was one of the good guys, or if he had an ulterior motive, and she let him go. Whichever's side he's on, though, may it be on the bad, on Thor's, on his own, or none at all, she was at least sure of one thing:

He wasn't completely good.

Jane remembered how it was like to be near him… he hadn't needed to touch her to make her feel trapped. His eyes and voice alone could make her freeze under his gaze, make her tremble like a leaf, and he seemed to slip in the spaces between people like an unnoticed shadow. If his eyes on her could paralyse her from a distance, and the quirk of his lips could make her feel like a hunted prey, then with having him barely a few inches from her, or but a hair's length from touching her skin… and to have his hands, cold and precise, to actually touch her, she knew he was dangerous.

But that didn't mean that it was all unwelcome.

She wasn't so sure what to think about that.

Hey eyes snapped open, her eyelids having closed without her noticing, and a sudden realisation came to her as her gaze went back to the empty table.

It was where she, Erik, Darcy, and Thor sat when she had fed his giant appetite. She had forgotten that it was here where she took them, her mind full of questions as she looked at the god with wonder and fascination in her eyes while she watched him wolf down the food.

It was stupid. Jane didn't even know why it mattered if this was where she fed him.

He was here for three days. Three days. What did it matter if he was the Norse god of thunder? What did it matter if he was charming and handsome and kind?

It was just three days.

It wasn't enough for love to have grown between them. So what exactly was she feeling?

The coffee in the mug she had tight in her hands shook, threatening to spill over the rim, and suddenly, she couldn't handle being where she was anymore.

Jane took in a large gulp of her cooling beverage, though still fairly hot, before retrieving her money and slamming it on the table. She walked to the exit, leaving her still nearly full drink there to cool.

There was a slight breeze as the air outside hit her face. She sighed in relief as she looked around. Before she could meet anyone's eyes, she directed her gaze to the ground, ignoring the people as they went on with their everyday lives without her.

The quiet wind ran its fingers through her hair, making the tightness in her throat loosen. She walked as silently as she could, watching the blown dust of the desert begin to coat over her clothes, lighted softly by the sun dipping slightly in the horizon and by the street lamps that had started to flicker to life.

She walked up to the local store, pushing the glass door as a bell jingled over her head, and she allowed herself a small smile at the young man who sat behind the cash register.

She immediately made her way and found the coffee section, getting a few packs to last her for the week. As she was headed to pay for her stash, she got in line behind a tall man with dark hair, covered with a flawless expensive-looking coat and a bundle of that day's newspaper under his arm.

As he turned to walk away after having finished his transactions, he hit the pile of coffee bags in her arms with his elbow, and a couple fell down to the floor.

"Oh, I apologise," he said, leaning down and picking them up quickly, and she hastily bent down to help him. All she could see was his jet black hair, darker than the midnight sky, and she frowned at the familiarity. His voice sounded familiar, too. It sounded like…

He placed the coffee packs in her arms before looking up at to see her face, a wide grin set on his lips as he straightened himself to stand properly.

But Jane was frozen, half-bent with her arms hugging the coffee bags to her chest and her head leaned back to look at the man square in the face, and she couldn't move.

It was him.

It was him.

After weeks of thinking that she was crazy, thinking that…

And he was right here, in Puente Antiguo, smiling down at her…

Once more, his piercing gaze pinned her on the spot. The boy behind the cash register was starting to give them strange looks in their awkward position, or rather, her awkward position, but for a while, she couldn't move.

When she did leap up and straightened herself, her eyes had gone wide, her mouth gaping like a fish and her arms dropping to her sides. The coffee bags fell down onto the floor with dull thuds, but all she could hear was the sound of a ragged breath and all she could see were his eyes, those very green eyes. After a moment, she realised that the breathing that she was hearing was hers.

"Are you two alright?" the cashier asked, sounding slightly worried.

The man didn't acknowledge the young cashier, settling to incline his head towards her, and started to walk out of the door, his smile still in place.

It took her only a moment to spur into action, leaving the packs of coffee on the floor and the cashier shouting after her, but she didn't hear him.

As soon as she had set a foot out of the store, she reached out just in time to grab his arm, and he turned to her expectantly, his smirk still in place.

She had not notice that the clouds of dust around them had not touched any part of him, that the winds and breezes has not tousled his hair as soon as he exited the store, or that the world around them was failing to affect him in any way whatsoever. She only had one goal in mind.

"You're not going anywhere," she growled, "until I get my answers."

•

She was sitting back at the diner she was just at not more than half an hour ago, in the exact same booth and the exact same seat, but now with a fresh cup of coffee in front of her. In addition to that, there was now a strange man sitting in front of her, who might just be the key to unlocking her deepest and wildest dreams, and she did her best not to fidget under his stare.

The said man was clad in a three-piece suit, tailored and grand, and the white shirt he wore was crisp and smooth. All of which were revealed upon his taking off his coat, which was hung carefully over the backrest of the empty space beside him. He wore a dark emerald tie that had a silvery sheen when the light hit it, but it couldn't take her attention away from his face.

He was looking at her, eyebrow raised delicately, and the only way she could describe the look he was giving her was that it was expectant, laced with nonchalance. Now that they were in a lighting that she could count as passable, she could see him more clearly, from a distance that was preferable to her than from the first time she had the chance to look at his features properly.

His hair was dark enough to border on blue, slicked back in the same fashion it was in weeks before when she had first saw him, and had pale skin that contrasted greatly to it. He had a noble nose, and below it, he had thin lips that had, just at that moment, settled for a crooked smile.

Okay, so definitely, he wasn't unattractive.

But already, by just staring at his expression, she was starting to loose her nerve.

"What?" she snapped at him, crossing her arms over her chest as she huffed. It only made his smile grow even wider, and he allowed himself to lean back as he considered her.

He held his hands up as if in invitation before weaving his fingers together and setting them on his lap. "You tell me, Miss Foster. It was you who had dragged me here, was it not?"

On a certain level, she was still terrified of him, of what he could do, and she tried her best to go on cautiously with this man. But she couldn't help the anger building in his chest at his teasing, at his games, at the way he affected her, and she couldn't help, either, to at least try to stand up in defiance.

"It was you who came to me, and it was you who promised we would meet again," Jane hissed at him. "It's obvious that you showed up because there's something important you have to say or… I don't know, something! Otherwise, you wouldn't have taken the time to make me go around in circles." Jane's eyes narrowed and she leaned a little forward as she let a bit of her frustration shine through. Okay, maybe not a bit. A lot, probably. But it was justifiable. "So please, can't you just tell me the reason why you've come all the way here, whoever you are, just to pick on me?"

But all Jane received in reply was a curved brow, and though his features revealed about nothing, his eyes betrayed the amusement that was shining brightly through them.

It was his locked lips that set her off, though. That even though finally, after waiting for so long for him to come back along, he was sitting in front of her, he still would not open his mouth.

It was like being faced with a box of treasures, but having the keyhole hidden from sight.

"How do you know my name?" she asked without hesitation this time, slamming her hands down on the table as she stood over its surface, a ways bit in leaning nearer towards him, causing a number of heads nearby to turn their way. Her face was gnarled by her anger and defeat, confusion and desperation, and by the many months that had been wearing her down ever since Thor had flown back out of her life.

His expression, however, remained passive. He looked back at her without blinking, unmoving as he sat still, but his eyes followed each movement she made.

"I've come too far to try to get what I've been working hard for my entire life, and for the last few weeks, I thought I had somehow failed myself even more, and now that you're here," she said to him, her voice thick with emotion, "I am not letting this opportunity be wasted and in vain."

She didn't know where her courage was coming from. The truth of it was, she was still afraid of him. With the way he looked back at her, she couldn't decipher anything, and she didn't know what to expect. She could feel the power behind his expression, that despite all her demanding and whining, in the end, the last say would still be resting in his hands. But Jane was too emotional at the time, too far-gone into her fears that she had been trying to hide from, that he would simply have to put up with her.

"Why are you here?" her voice broke as she continued to assault him with her questions, but she had fallen back against the booth, the adrenaline of emotions having past and her realisation sobering her. "Who are you?"

But neither backed down as they both stared square into each other's gazes.

Eventually, painfully slowly, the man moved to fold his arms upon the table, letting a thoughtful look fall upon him as he inclined his head to her direction. He was yet to answer any of her questions, to make any of their time worthwhile, and she wished with all her being that he would simply stop being so stubborn.

Suddenly, she didn't want to hear what he had to say. Suddenly, the look in his eyes told her that what he was about to tell her wasn't something she wanted to hear, and despite all her sufferings, a part of her wanted to tell him to just stop, just go away and leave her alone.

"How long have you been lying to yourself?"

The question had caught her off-guard, making her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline as she blinked at him. A lump rose in her throat, and no matter how much she tried to swallow it down she simply couldn't. His face was still unreadable, blank, and she was trying desperately to look for meaning behind his words.

"Excuse me?"

"What is it that you want?" he said instead, simply, lazily, now having his turn in invading her personal space from across the table. "It is a simple enough question, I believe," he began.

"I also believe that you want something from me," his lips quirked upwards for a moment. "I know that you want my help. But it is the question of if I will decide to help you, if I hear what I want to hear. I will tell you what you want to know, answer your questions as best as I can, if only you let yourself only a little bit of honesty."

Jane's thoughts went to the obvious and automatic reasons. Humanity, Asgard, exploration, and a particular god of thunder. Her dreams since she was a child, her life-long work as an astrophysicist in the fringes of science…

But suddenly, he stood up from his seat, and her breath was caught in her throat.

He leaned even further over the table surface, closing the distance between their faces, and her eyes were wide as they were glued to his gleaming green orbs.

"Think carefully, dear Jane," he whispered to her, his mouth curling into a small smile. "Be truthful to yourself and think carefully."

Jane could only stare back at him as he said those words, and her mind went almost blank. Suddenly, she couldn't take thinking about any of it; suddenly she didn't want to face any of it yet; suddenly…

He grinned down at her, feral and wild as his white teeth flashed at her. "I hope that you provide me with the right answer the next time we shall cross each other's paths, Miss Foster."

He stood straight, brushing off his suit before reaching for his coat. He shrugged it on like a second skin, his movements like fluid that she couldn't help but watch, and he nodded at her.

"Till we meet again, Jane," he bid her farewell once more, heading toward the doors with light footsteps. And once more, as he left her thoughts both reeling and fading at the same time, he was gone.

AN: Okay, this chapter, I'll definitely edit out sometime. I think. I could barely focus on the last part of this chapter... Next chapter shall be in Loki's point of view! Which shall be the first time I shall ever endeavour in writing from his perspective. Wish me luck.

Please, please, please leave reviews! :) Tell me what you guys think!