Once again, thanks to everyone who has reviewed, favourited, and followed! The feedback has been very helpful. This chapter contains a few perspective switches - they're not specifically indicated by anything more than the normal lines that I use to indicate timeskips. Please tell me if they're unclear. Thanks, guys!

"Success in warfare is gained by carefully accommodating ourselves to the enemy's purpose."

- Sun Tzu; The Art of War

The briefing room was filled with a strained reticence as they all huddled around the surveillance screen, which displayed a pacing Fury and an amused Loki.

"How desperate am I?" Fury was saying. "You threaten my world with war. You steal a force that you can't hope to control.

"You talk about peace, yet you kill 'cause it's fun. You have made me very desperate. You might not be glad that you did."

Fury's words would have intimidated anyone, especially with the threatening look that accompanied them. Loki, however, was wholly undaunted.

"Ooh, it burns you to come so close," he taunted. "To have the Tesseract, to have unlimited power. And for what? A warm light for all mankind to share, and then to be reminded what real power is."

Fury just smiled. "Well, you let me know if 'real power' wants a magazine or something."

Loki looked straight into the camera as the director left, as if feeling their watchful eyes. The god smirked, and the monitor went black. For a while, nobody in the room spoke as they digested Loki's words and tried to decipher the meaning behind them.

Vanessa's mind was whirring with ideas and interpretations, feeling much calmer than before and quite at home in her area of expertise. But she needed more information to come up with anything of use.

The microphone on her shirt collar buzzed and Fury's voice reverberated close to her ear. "Agent Liang, whenever you're ready. I'm heading over now."

"Received, I'll go in a few minutes," she replied, and turning to Thor, she asked, "Sir, Mister Odinson, can I speak to you about your brother?"

Earlier, the Asgardian appeared to have come to some unspoken agreement with Iron Man and Captain America, becoming their ally. Vanessa had no idea what happened, exactly but she was grateful that it did. An powerful deity on their side to combat another powerful deity seemed fitting.

He appeared to come out of a state of thoughtfulness and nodded slowly. "Yes, of course, Miss Liang. You can call me Thor."

She beamed. "And you can feel free to call me Vanessa. Anyway ー can I ask you what you know about his motivations? Why Loki would want to rule Earth, why he needs the Tesseract?"

"Loki has an army, known as the Chitauri," said Thor. "They're not of Asgard or any world known. They will win him the earth, in exchange, I suspect, for the Tesseract."

His answer immediately sparked a discussion amongst the room's occupants. She let it unfold, quietly contemplating the information.

"An army?" Steve asked incredulously. "From outer space?"

Vanessa thought much the same. None of her training had ever even addressed the idea that there could be an interstellar threat, much less prepared her for it. However, she felt strangely collected, as if this revelation was so odd, so unbelievable that she couldn't even begin to feel worried about it. Or maybe it was because the danger wasn't immediate, only looming on the horizon. Whatever the case, she was glad for it, because a calm mind was far better than one that was not.

"So Loki's building another portal," Banner realized. "That's what he needs Erik Selvig for."

Recognition flashed across Thor's face as he furrowed his brow. "Selvig?"

"He's an astrophysicist."

The god of thunder looked away, his expression stony with suppressed anger and concern. "He's a friend."

"Loki has him under some kind of spell," Romanoff filled in, and her voice was filled with barely concealed worry when she said, "Along with one of ours."

There was a brief moment of silence before Steve resumed with, "I wanna know why Loki let us capture him. He's not leading an army from here."

Banner shook his head. "I don't think we should be focusing on Loki. That guy's brain is a bag full of cats; you could smell crazy on him."

"Have care how you speak," snapped Thor. "Loki is beyond reason, but he is of Asgard, and he's my brother."

Romanoff scoffed, "He killed eighty people in two days."

"He's adopted."

Vanessa felt the grating tension in the room and cleared her throat. "Can I ask you another question, Thor? It's a little bit personal, and if you don't want to share, feel free not to."

He tilted his head. "I'll hear it."

"What happened between you and Loki?"

There was a beat of silence before Thor answered, "Loki always felt overshadowed by me when we were younger. He believed that our father loved favoured me. Ever since the throne of Asgard fell to me, he has coveted it, becoming bitter. Misguided."

"So, he's like a kid throwing a tantrum?" Stark walked into the room, accompanied by Coulson and Maria Hill, the deputy director of SHIELD. "Wants attention?"

"I suppose you could put it that way," Thor said with a shrug. "Do you have anything else you would like to know?"

Vanessa nodded. "One more question. Can you tell me about Loki's abilities?"

"Loki is a sorcerer, never really interested in the traditional warrior arts," he answered, sounding almost distasted. "A conjurer of objects and illusions."

She pursed her lips, the only sign that she was uneasy with the unexpected similarity between her and their prisoner.

"He's a trickster with a silver-tongue, and manipulative. I never could beat him at mind games."

Manipulative.

"Manipulative," Vanessa repeated, glancing at each person in the room in turn. "I think we'd do well to remember that."

Fury arrived at the briefing room after navigating through the maze of corridors from the detainment level back to the bridge. He scanned the room with his good eye, gaze landing on Vanessa. "A little longer than a few minutes, Agent Liang."

"My apologies, Director," said the girl with a quick dip of her head. "I'll head there right now."

"Good. He's not going to be an easy one."

She met his eyes in understanding and brushed past him to exit the room.

Fury walked over to the screen where they had viewed his conversation with Loki and turned it on, an image of the god of mischief once again flickering on its surface. "If you guys want, you should watch this. Get to know your teammate, a little."

Steve inched closer, curious. "What do you mean?"

"If any of you didn't already know, Agent Liang is an interrogation specialist," he explained. "She has an interesting style. I'd be hard-pressed to even call it interrogation, but I do because it yields the same results."

"Is that why you recruited an eighteen-year-old girl?" Steve asked, his voice almost accusing. It wasn't the first time that he voiced the 'she's too young to be caught up in all this' opinion, and Fury had a feeling that it wouldn't be the last, either.

He trained his eye on the other man, feeling the need to rise to SHIELD's defense. His own defense. "She came to us, Captain."

Steve huffed, unconvinced. "Should've waited a bit, at least."

"I know you're concerned, but believe me," said Fury. "Turning away someone with resolve and a skill set like hers would have been very difficult."

Fury turned away in a declaration that the topic was closed. He felt correct, despite the Captain's accusations. Steve hadn't been there to see her application, her interview, and her first field test. He hadn't been there when she first revealed her potential. If he had, he wouldn't be questioning it now.

She was something special, alright.

He looked at the screen and it was still only Loki.

"Liang, you better not be making a detour to get coffee," he growled into his mic, trying his best to sound unimpressed instead of bemused. A second later, her laugh rang out in response.

"Sorry, Director," she said. "Don't fire me."

Loki recognized her presence before seeing her. The weak little spark that characterized Midgardians, although hers was laced with something else, something that he couldn't quite place. It was of little concern to him, though; he knew from their encounter on the mountainside that she was just another opposing pawn he needed to outmaneuver, and he would do so easily.

Slowly, dramatically, he turned in his cell with a faint grin on his face. "What do we have here?"

The girl stood on the metal catwalk outside of his cell with her silver stare trained on him, unfazed by his casual mockery. "I'm sorry for not doing so earlier, but please allow me to introduce myself," she said calmly, unlike the forced composure she upheld during their first meeting. He could easily see why ー with a foot of reinforced glass between them, he wasn't much of a threat to her anymore. "My name is Vanessa Liang."

"Interesting that you should come visit me," he mused, crossing the distance between them in a few quick strides and leaning in close to the limits of his prison. He looked at his visitor in scrutiny. She held a steaming cup in her left hand, her non-dominant hand, if he remembered correctly. She had used it to support her gun while her right was at the trigger. She was rather slight, with narrow shoulders and slim hips. She had well-placed and distinctive features ー not unattractive, but none of that mattered, for Loki was always drawn back to her eyes.

They were silver and unsettling, bearing in his mind a strong resemblance to Heimdall's gold ones. Like the gatekeeper's, her eyes glowed faintly and seemed to look at him and through him at the same time. In short? He disliked them, but he was curious about them.

"I take it that you were expecting someone else, and not so soon," she replied, her voice nonchalant.

She was correct, and Loki took note of her attentiveness, realizing that she was likely sent to extract information from him. Carefully, he matched her tone. "Perhaps. Why do you come, then? To mock or gloat? You didn't seem like the type. Then, to interrogate, perhaps?"

Vanessa took a sip from her drink, her sterling irises looking at him intently over the rim of the cup. "No, none of that," she said, after swallowing. "Just to talk."

"Oh?" He raised his eyebrows. "About what?"

"Not much in particular." She shrugged. "You look like you could use an engaging conversation. Or maybe you just need coffee. Want some?"

She gestured to the paper vessel in her hand. The word 'coffee' was vaguely familiar to him, thrown around quite often by the two he had taken, Selvig and Barton. They had always seemed to want it. "It's that bitter Midgardian thing, yes? If you could get it to me, I'll take some."

"I'll pour it through the ventilation shaft," Vanessa offered, breaking into a grin that almost surprised Loki with how real the smile appeared. Maybe it was a gesture to relax his guard, but its genuinity only made him more wary. He was more than used to being lied to. "I heard that you're a conjurer. Could you conjure yourself a cup or something?"

"Perhaps," he replied, hands behind his back. "If I have one stored away. I can't be sure."

The colour of her almond eyes appeared to shift in shade with her delightment and turn into something brighter, more reflective. "Do you have a pocket dimension where you can store objects?" she asked. "I'm jealous. What's in it?"

Loki found himself mildly amused by her engrossment. "This and that," he said, being deliberately vague as to not satisfy her curiousity. "And I just checked ー no cup, unfortunately."

"That is unfortunate," she agreed. "Guess this mocha's all mine, then."

He considered putting their pointless banter to an end. After all, he had a purpose. While it would have been better served through that woman named Natasha Romanoff, he could enact it through this Vanessa Liang just as easily.

But it will still be a while before Barton would be ready to assist me with my escape, he told himself. Perhaps this can carry on for a little longer, if only for entertainment.

"Mocha?" he asked, feigning interest. "You said that was coffee."

"It is," she said, taking another sip. "Mocha is a variant of coffee. Well, a variant of a variant, if you want to get specific."

He waved her on. "Go ahead, then. Enlighten me."

"It's a chocolate-flavoured derivative of a caffé latte," she answered earnestly. "Which is essentially an espresso but with steamed milk added. It's good."

"I can only imagine."

"I'm sorry for your loss. What do you drink in Asgard?"

"Water."

"Beyond that."

"Alcohol." Loki suddenly and inexplicably recalled all the nights of meaningless revelry with Thor, Sif, and the Warriors Three. The abrupt memory triggered by the conversation prompted him to cut it short. "I think I've humoured you for long enough. What are your true intentions?"

Vanessa blinked her lucid eyes. "I told you already, I just want to talk."

Loki was a master of lies, and the fact that he could not detect any falsity in her statement was disturbing. She was either bypassing his lie-detecting faculties or telling the truth. Both of those possibilities were disquieting, but he settled for the first, the slightly less so of the two.

"Don't treat me like a fool," he hissed, determined to uncover her ruse. "That man, Fury ー he claimed that your world has been plunged into a dire state of risk. And I'm just to believe that you approach me just to discuss something as mundane as beverages?"

"You're right," she admitted, unperturbed. "This is mundane. We can talk about something else, if you would like. Why don't you choose a topic? If it's any extra incentive, I swear to answer any questions that you have honestly."

Loki had to admit that he was taken aback by her offer, and was silent for several moments as he unravelled it. She was telling the truth this time ー he knew it. But the answer to the question of why still eluded him.

"You drive a bold bargain," he finally said. "You must be plotting something, or maybe you are just hopelessly daft."

At this, Vanessa smiled. "It's true that I want to test the water, or so to say. Just because I'm here to hold a casual conversation doesn't mean that I don't recognize the fact that we are still opponents. But I'm confident that this talk and my honesty will not betray my cause."

"A game, then," he guessed. "A game in which information is the gamble."

"I didn't think of that way," she said, inclining her head. "But if you enjoy this sort of thing, so be it."

Loki steepled his fingers at the prospect of an intellectual business, trying to hide the fact that he was, in fact, pleased with the opportunity. Back then, Thor had never been much of a challenge, and Frigga rarely had the time. The thought of his mother prickled at him, but he pushed it aside – sentiment was weakness, and that part of his life was gone forever from the moment he lead the Frost Giants into Asgard.

"Then your offer is accepted. Can I begin?"

"Of course."

"I want you to tell me about your eyes," he said promptly. "I'm sure you've realized that I've noticed that they are not like the other Midgardians, and I have to admit, I'm intrigued."

As if on cue, the silver of her irises flashed. "Can you phrase that as a more specific question? There's a lot I could tell you, and I daresay not all of them you actually want to hear."

Loki chuckled a little. "Already realizing the implications of your venture? Fine. What can your eyes see?"

She tilted her head to the left slightly, clearly intent on dodging the question. "I can see you standing in a cell."

"Oh, please," he said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "I know that the ability residing in those eyes of yours are the only reason that you're involved in any of this. The only reason that Fury keeps someone like you around. So tell me, what can you see that others do not?"

Vanessa ignored the pointed comment at her worth, much to his disappointment. "I don't see everything like your gatekeeper does," she started. He hadn't expected her to know about Heimdall, much less draw a comparison between herself and the guardian of the Bifröst. It was as if she knew of his earlier thoughts. "But I see in more detail and depth. This detail then helps me see to the heart of matters. I suppose I see more than what's on the physical surface."

Then Loki got a little bit more than he had bargained for.

"You asked me about my eyes and what I can see? I can see what you've seen written all over your face, and tell me if I'm correct to say, 'too much.'"

For a split second, the silence between them was almost deafening as a single thought, shocked and disoriented, played in his head in response to her statement.

You are.

"Your mortal mind wouldn't be able to fathom it." His voice was venomous, steeped with a wild rush of emotions. Here was an arrogantly perceptive Midgardian, making baseless assumptions about him and pretending that she could comprehend what he had seen. "It is beyond your wildest imaginations."

Sanctuary isn't much of a sanctuary for mortals, and certainly not for the faint of heart.

The pain, the vulnerability ー she couldn't possibly imagine what it was like.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, eyes large and rounded, as if in concern. "I didn't mean to trespass."

The apology was unexpected (a dangerous number of things in this conversation were unexpected), but he accepted it with a single, terse nod, using the time the small gesture granted him to rebuild his guard.

He had underestimated her, but the game could still be won.

"If I told you that I could help, would you tell me about it?" she asked gently. There was nothing prying or demanding about her tone, just a soft offer. She was lying this time, he knew – she had no intent to actually help him, but perhaps to repair the wall she had accidentally breached by making kinder conversation. "You haven't seen much mortal imagination, I gather."

"You humans are unable to see past the littlest of things," he scoffed, the vehemence in his voice doing well to cover up his uneasiness. "And fooled by the simplest of lies."

"You mean to say we're petty and gullible?" Vanessa quirked her eyebrows, seemingly entertained. With the simple gesture, she easily curbed the mounting tension in the air, leaving Loki with an unpleasant sense of powerlessness. She may have been answering his question, but the conversation was completely in her hands.

He was losing their mind game, he realized, and it almost scared him.

"I couldn't agree more," she went on, a hint of humour creeping into her tone, which somehow also carried an odd sense of foreboding. He quickly found out why: "But trust me when I say that humans can have a wild, wild imagination. For example, you gave birth to an eight-legged stallion named Sleipnir."

The outrageousness of her statement did wonders to snap him out of his state of tumult. "What in the Nine Realms? No, Sleipnir was-"

"Point proven," she said, sounding maddeningly satisfied with his reaction. "If I have time later, I'll tell you about the rest of your 'offspring.'" She made gestures in the air with her fingers, apparently to convey sarcasm.

"The rest?"

The expression on his face must have been priceless, because she laughed, although the contentment didn't quite reach her eyes.

"I'm needed elsewhere, now," said Vanessa, her voice still filled with what seemed to be a mixture of amusement and thoughtfulness. "You know, Thor told me that you were bitter and misguided, but I find you quite enjoyable to talk to."

"Barton only told me about your eyes, and not that you could be insufferable," Loki shot back, but with no real malice. He couldn't find it in himself, not in such a state of perplexity.

She smiled one last time and turned away, her steps seemingly calculated to click and echo unnervingly on the metal catwalk. He watched her retreating figure until the doors of his prison slid shut, staring at the black hair that swayed back and forth, trying to discern what was in her head.

He clenched his hands in frustration, unable to tell how much he'd given away. He knew that she wouldn't have left empty-handed.