Kara stared at the half-empty carton of eggs. Thor had a huge appetite, but she wasn't sure if that applied to his brother, particularly since Loki was not at full strength. She shrugged and added three more eggs to the bowl. Being in recovery was all the more reason for him to eat heartily. The bacon was almost done. She could drain the grease and crumble it while the rest of the omelet began cooking. "Crap, cheddar or parmesan?" she wondered as she began beating the eggs.

"Uh, Kara? If you added some sugar and took out the yolks, you'd have meringue by now," Pepper said from behind her.

"Damn." She looked down at the frothy eggs. "Taking out my frustrations, I guess."

"You think? Who...oh, is Loki ready for solid food?"

She shrugged. "I don't think he'd react well if I tried to give him broth."

Pepper chuckled quietly. "No, probably not. Did the clothes fit?"

"No clue. I stormed out before he got them on. Steve's in there helping him."

"That man has the patience of a saint. Well, unless Tony baits him."

"Tony would drive a saint to drink. He's lucky you don't do diabolical revenge."

"Ah, but I do. He won't disclose my methods of retaliation to anyone for fear they'll be inspired."

Kara turned to stare at the smirking strawberry blonde. "Inspire me, please."

"Hey doc, your patient is dressed and sitting in the armchair. Sounds like he's hungry, at least I guess that was his stomach complaining," Steve Rogers said as he strode into the kitchen. "Hi Miss...uh, Pepper. Did I get that cabinet in the right place for you?"

"Perfect, Steve, thank you." She turned to look at Kara, her eyebrow raised.

Kara grinned. "Steve, could you go move the table over in front of Loki? His omelet is almost ready," she told him. "Oh, and ask him what he wants to drink. He can have milk, apple juice, or water."

"Sure, doc, no problem."

Pepper nudged her as Steve did an about face and trotted back down the hall. "How did you get him to stop calling me 'Miss Potts'?

"I pointed out that he was disrespecting your wishes by not calling you Pepper. Dedicated military types are all about respect."

"Um hm. So, why can't I fall for a guy like that?"

"That's a good question. He's probably too safe for you, or too predictable."

"Tony Stark is predictable. I predict he will make me mad at least five times today. Of course, I also predict he'll make me laugh more than twice that." Pepper sighed. "How about you? What do you think of our Captain America?"

"I never really understood why so many women go for blondes. Also, the boy scout routine kind of bothers me. It's sweet, and he's a great friend, but it doesn't do it for me, you know?"

"And Bruce?"

"Nothing there, either. Sadly."

"Hmm, so no blondes or boy scouts, that leaves Thor out in the cold, too."

"Pepper, seriously. I don't want a man...or woman for that matter. I-I can't trust myself not to have a flashback and hurt someone in a, uh, romantic situation."

"You've helped so many people get past their PTSD, but you can't get past your own?"

"Pitiful, huh?" Kara asked as she scooped the finished omelet onto a plate.

Pepper hugged her from behind. "No, not pitiful. Sad maybe. And generous."

"Thanks."

... ...

Loki opened his eyes when he heard Captain Rogers enter the room. The man walked over to a table set near the large window, hefted it, and carried it over to place it in front of him. "I take it a meal is imminent?"

"Yep, hope you like omelets." The mortal frowned. "If you don't, I'd advise you to pretend. Dr. G is going out of her way for you."

He snorted softly. "What is in it, besides the obvious?"

"Eggs, bacon, and maybe cheese."

"Acceptable, marginally."

Rogers slammed his palm down on the wrought iron table's top hard enough to make it vibrate and leaned in close. "Sir, I really advise you to lose the attitude. We are doing our level best to help you, but you need to help yourself." Straightening, he sighed. "Apple juice, milk or water to drink?"

Loki decided a snide wait help comment would be unwise. "Milk and water, if I may." He watched quietly as Rogers spun and strode out of the room. Frowning as a thought occurred, he looked down at the heavy metal table and then took stock of the room's other furnishings. The bedside tables were also wrought iron, as were the chairs that had flanked the table in front of him when it had sat under the window, and the bed's head and foot boards. There were no drapes, and other than a few scatter rugs, the granite floor was bare. The only other flammable objects in the room were the bedding and the chair he sat in. "How...odd."

"What's odd?" Dr. Gunnarssen asked.

He looked up as she crossed the room carrying a plate and a rolled up napkin. She set them in front of him and sat down on the bed, folding her legs under her. Trying not to frown at her clothing choices, he unrolled the napkin and picked up the fork. "The absolute dearth of wood or much else in the way of flammable items in your suite." He speared a bite of omelet and began eating.

She smiled. "Not odd, necessary."

Swallowing, he frowned. "Why necessary...and this is good, by the way. The rosemary and thyme are a nice touch."

"Thank you. I try to avoid using salt, but I like flavor."

He finished another bite. "Are you avoiding my question?"

Her smile widened but she didn't respond as Rogers entered and set two glasses down on the table. "Doc, Stark and I have to take off for a few hours to meet Dr. Banner. Are you and, Miss Potts...uh, Pepper, going to be okay here? Nat and Clint can be here in ten minutes if you have trouble."

... ...

"I'm sorry," Loki interrupted. "You refer to the other women with titles, why do you call Agent Romanov by a nickname?"

Steve blushed. "Well, she told me if I called her Agent or Miss Romanov one more time, she'd make sure I sang soprano...and I really think she'd do it."

Loki stared for a moment and once the inference sank in, burst out laughing. The difference it made in his expression was amazing, and attractive as all hell. Kara spared a glance for Steve. The poor man felt totally flustered but was manfully trying not to show it. "I think you're right," she agreed. "And with that kind of threat, discretion is the better part of valor."

"Yes, ma'am. That was my thought. Uh, so are you good here?"

"Sure, no problem. When you guys have a more definite time frame, let us know."

"Will do."

"You still haven't answered my question," Loki reminded her, still smiling.

"No, I haven't.

"Why not?"

She shrugged. "You have your secrets, I have mine. Want to trade?"

"Ah, nice try...hmm."

"Hmm, what?"

"It occurred to me that I don't know your name...your given name, that is."

"Oh. Kara. And yes, you may use it."

"I was not going to ask permission," he informed her.

"Didn't think you were, so I took away your opportunity to be rude about it."

"Damn. I wonder though, most mortal physicians I've met are adamant that their proper title be used. Why are you different?"

"I'm a healer, not a physician, I don't have an M.D.," she told him and waited for the obvious question.

"Then what is your degree in?"

"Degrees. Genetics and psychology."

... ...

A psychologist. Of course. Well, the mortals did think him insane. "I see. So, have you begun your psychoanalysis?"

Damned woman had the nerve to chuckle. "No, I've decided to go with Dr. Banner's assessment. Your mind really is like a bag full of cats." She shrugged at his frown. "You've got to admit, it's both accurate and rather poetic. I can sense enough about you that I know your mind is not something it would be safe to dig into. One of us would end up being seriously hurt."

"And not necessarily you?"

She smiled. "I can defend myself, Loki, even from you. It's not something I'd enjoy doing, but I will if I must."

"And how, exactly, will you defend yourself?"

"You haven't shared any of your secrets yet."

So he hadn't. He stared at her, contemplating how to gain her trust. His eyes were drawn again to her unbecoming attire, sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. The loose material did no more than hint at the curves hidden beneath. It was so at odds with her classical features, graceful length of neck and slender hands that it irritated him to no end. "Why do you dress that way?" he asked.

Kara looked down at herself. "It's comfortable."

"It's calculated," he corrected.

She stared at him, appearing genuinely confused. "Calculated to do what?"

"To tease; to make a man wonder what treasure is hidden beneath." He blinked in surprise when her expression darkened and she slid off of the bed and backed away from him.

"What the hell is wrong with men? If I wear close fitting clothing, I'm a slut and just asking for it. If I wear loose shapeless clothes I'm a tease. Am I still just asking for it?" Her voice shook and she was blinking rapidly. What 'button' had he managed to push? "Seriously, Loki, I really want to know."

He shook his head. "I-I'm sorry, Kara. I did not mean anything other than to express appreciation. You are a beautiful woman."

She had crossed her arms over her chest and had turned away. "So, it's still my fault, no matter what I do? Great."

"I don't understand." He paused as she shook her head and started to walk away. "Please," he said. "Don't go. I did not intend to cause you distress. Stay and talk to me." He pushed at the table and managed to move it far enough away to rise. Leaning on it and then reaching for the bed post for balance he was able to walk to where she had stopped. Holding on with one hand he reached out with the other and lightly touched her shoulder. "Tell me what's wrong, please."

He bit the inside of his cheek to keep his expression calm when she turned to face him. Her eyes were suspiciously wet, and her lower lip trembled. "It's funny, isn't it? I specialize in treating post-traumatic stress disorder…while suffering from a classic case of it."

Thinking about her comments he struggled to put them in context with what Captain Rogers had told him earlier. He inhaled sharply as comprehension dawned. "The traumatic event that triggered the abilities you won't discuss with me. You-you were violated, were you not?"

Kara laughed, rather sadly, he thought. "Violated. Wow, that's such a quaint word."

Loki sighed as the threatened tears began to escape. He tugged gently on her arm. "Come here, please," he told her gently. She obeyed, and he carefully pulled her close. "To answer your question, it is not about anything being wrong with men," he began as he sat down on the bed, cupped her cheeks and wiped away the stray tears with his thumbs. "Those who would do such a thing are not men, they are offal. No man worthy of the name would ever treat a woman thus."

The maddening chit snorted disbelievingly. "But you kill women, don't tell me you haven't," she rasped.

Ah, now they were getting somewhere. "Yes. If a woman engages in combat, and I must face her as her enemy, I will kill her. That's respectful of her position as a warrior. Willingly doing harm when not in combat or forcing anyone to engage in sex regardless of the circumstances is dishonorable and I would never do something so shameful."

She stared up at him as he brushed her hair back and tucked it behind a shell-like ear then returned his palm to her cheek. "You are a bundle of contradictions, Loki."

He smiled. "Not really. You simply do not have all of the facts." She shivered when he brushed a thumb across her bottom lip. "Kara, I'd really like to kiss you, but I don't want you frightened. May I?"

"I don't think that's such a good idea," she muttered half under her breath.

"I do." He leaned in slowly to give her time to protest. When she did not, he lightly claimed her lips in a soft kiss, one designed to reassure and entice. She shivered, but didn't pull away. Deepening the kiss, he traced his hands along her jaw, then down her neck, finally slipping them behind her to draw her closer yet. "I'll never hurt you," he promised as he paused to allow her to catch her breath.

She stiffened in his arms then raised her hands to push against his chest when he moved to resume the kiss. "No, don't." He frowned and looked into her troubled eyes. "I-Thor told me that you felt yourself a monster because of your Jotun heritage," she said.

His mouth twisted. His brother had told her what he really was. No wonder she wanted no part of him. "I am what Asgardian mothers threaten disobedient children with," he admitted.

"But don't you see? That doesn't make a person a monster. What makes someone a monster is what they do, not what they are." The tears had started again. "I can't do this…I can't be close to anyone, Loki. It isn't because it's you. It's because I'm the monster."

Loki stared at her, stunned into silence for a moment. "How can you say that?" he finally asked.

Kara pulled away and ran to the bathroom. She returned carrying the three used towels, pulled the throw rug under the bed, and placed the damp towels on the now bare granite floor, far from the armchair and bedding. "It was the day before my thirteenth birthday. I was on my way home from school and decided to take a shortcut. I was so excited because I was finally going to be a teenager." She shuddered and hugged herself.

"You don't have to relive this for me, Kara."

"Don't I? I passed by three men…okay, let's call them scumbags," she offered when he started to interrupt. "They were drinking, had been drinking for a while judging by all of the empty bottles. When they saw me, they decided to have some fun and use me as their toy."

He wanted to close his eyes, to not hear this, but that wouldn't have been right. "And they violated you." It was not a question.

Her laugh was harsh. "Again with the quaint, oh so polite word. They raped me. Repeatedly. Then they left me broken and bleeding on the ground and went back to their drinking. I was crying, furious, and frightened. The rage rushed through me like a river of fire. I pushed myself up and found myself screaming at them, telling them they were going to burn in hell."

"That seems to be a reasonable reaction to that horror," he said carefully, not certain what she was expecting from him.

"Reasonable." She laughed again, this time it sounded desperate. Loki was the desperate one; he desperately wanted to hold her close and somehow make her pain go away, but something in her eyes held him still. "Then the power rose, the fire raged through me, and I brought them into hell on Earth." She looked back at the three very damp towels.

They burst into flames, three concentrated fireballs that quickly combined to a conflagration that burned so hot the center was white. He couldn't control his gasp and regretted it when she flinched. "You're a firestarter," he said in awe.

"Pyrokinetic, is the scientific term," she murmured. "Between us, I'm the true monster."