Yeah, so I thought this would be up a while back, but... well... yeah, pick an excuse. Anyway! It's time for Loki to react to Taryn's capture, bwahaha... I hope you enjoy it and I love all of you for your reviews!
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Taryn took a deep breath for courage and forced her feet not to pause, nor her eyes to raise to take in the full, intimidating height of Stark Tower. For all that she'd wanted speed, now that she was actually here, she wished the journey had taken longer… hours longer, days, months.
"You asked for this," she whispered to herself, and it was nothing but the truth. Truth didn't make the words taste any better on her tongue, though, and for all her resolve, she halted before the enormous glass doors with her heart in her throat.
Tony Stark had been good as his word. His jet, a sleek black thing that looked like a cross between a plane and a crouching panther, had outdistanced the Helicarrier within seconds (and how she had gaped at the sight of that enormous ship flying!). Moments later, it had left the Quinnjet behind as if it were standing still instead of itself zooming at Mach Impossible toward New York. Yet for all its speed, Stark's jet had been utterly silent.
"It's because of the drive," Tony had told her when she'd remarked upon it, and had gone on to give her an explanation that explained nothing to her–but then again, she wasn't a genius engineer. To his credit, he'd only spoken for a few moments before realizing she was lost and breaking off with a grin too charming to pass for sheepish. "Yeah, well, suffice it to say that it's about a decade ahead of state-of-the-art. NASA would get down on their knees and blow me for the specs," he'd said with a wicked twinkle in his eye. "And if NASA would blow me, you can just imagine what the military would do."
The quiet, smooth ride had been good for meditation. It was something Bruce had suggested in the moments they'd waited while Stark readied his futuristic jet and Natasha found her something to wear. "Don't try to force the memories to come, and don't search them," he'd told her, holding her gaze with his warm, sad brown eyes. "Just clear your mind and let whatever surfaces come."
"But we need to know more about his plans, and it's all in there somewhere!" Taryn had protested.
Bruce just took her hand and smiled. "Some part of you already knows," he'd said with quiet assurance. "What you need to know will come. Just be still and let it." Then Natasha had returned and he'd kissed her cheek, and she'd looked into that gentle face creased by all the cares of the world, and those sad eyes, and realized she might never see him again…
… and if any thoughts had no place here, these topped the list. Taryn shook her head sharply to bring herself back to the present. Tony had said she'd have "just about an hour" before the Quinnjet arrived with its load of heroes, so she had no business standing around out here wasting a second of it. Taryn squared her shoulders, climbed the white steps to the doors, and entered the forbidding glass fortress as though she had every right to do so.
No one gave her more than a cursory glance as she crossed the crowded lobby. Stark Industries maintained many offices here, and although her jeans and fitted blouse were more casual than most, she didn't stand out. It was only when she bypassed the public elevators on her way to one half-hidden behind several columns that a man in a fine business suit stopped her.
"Ma'am, I'm sorry, but I'll have to ask you to use the main elevators at the center of the lobby," he said, smiling in a way that didn't reach his eyes. "This elevator is private."
He might have been wearing a suit that cost more than her monthly salary, but from the thickness of his neck and the breadth of his shoulders, Taryn knew this was no businessman. "JARVIS is expecting me," she told the security guard, continuing her steady pace.
He frowned and reached out to grab her arm, but a cultured British voice issued from radio secreted in some hidden pocket of his jacket, saying, "Indeed I am. Welcome to Stark Tower, Professor Roswell. Mr. Fitzhugh, if you would be so good as to show her to Mr. Stark's elevator at once," and his whole manner changed.
"I beg your pardon, Professor. Right this way," he said, ushering her past a discretely concealed camera and another Armani-suited guard. The elevator doors slid open just as they reached them. "Shall I escort you?"
"That will not be necessary, Mr. Fitzhugh," JARVIS replied before Taryn could speak. "Thank you." And the doors slid shut on his curiosity.
Taryn slumped against the wall as soon as the doors hid her from sight. "Is Loki up there, JARVIS?" she asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear the voice again. She was all nerves right now and the AI's voice was soothing.
"I am sorry, Professor, but I am unable to discuss happenings in the penthouse," JARVIS replied, and that was an answer in itself, especially since she'd heard Stark instruct the AI to answer all her questions and give her any aid she required.
But then another thought struck her. "Will you be able to send a distress call to Mr. Stark if I am in trouble?"
There was a heartbeat's pause before JARVIS gave her the reply she'd dreaded. "I am most terribly sorry, Professor. I will be unable to discuss happenings in the penthouse even with Mr. Stark."
Then something odd happened. Instead of heightening her anxiety and turning it to terror, JARVIS's words had the opposite effect. Taryn's pulse slowed and her hands stopped trembling as an almost unnatural calm descended over her. A fragment of a movie echoed through her mind–I must face him alone, that's the way it is done; well if that is the way it is done, then that is the way you must do it–and she almost smiled. Unlike the heroine in that movie, she wouldn't have a troop of true friends waiting just outside for her call.
But Loki wouldn't hurt her. Everything else was confusion and doubt, but not that. Loki hung too many hopes on her to ever harm her. She was probably safer than anyone else in the entire city while she was with him.
"Oh, well," she sighed, watching the numbers climb on the elevator display. "At least I know that in advance."
"Professor, if you will permit me to offer a word of advice, if you were to make a request for aid outside the penthouse," JARVIS said unexpectedly, "perhaps from the balcony, or within the elevator, I might be able to relay your message."
"Good to know," Taryn replied, but she couldn't depend on Stark to save her. In fact, if this went the way she was hoping it would, she'd never see Stark again.
Too soon, the elevator slid to a smooth stop and the doors opened. Taryn looked across the immaculate living area, the floor-to-ceiling glass filling one entire wall and opening out to a blindingly white balcony, the long bar to one side and a few discretely recessed doors to the other. She saw sleek couches, and glass-and-chrome tables and barstools, and minimalist modern art on the walls, and plush white rugs… she saw sunlight shining off New York's skyscrapers, the clear blue sky kissed with puffy white clouds, and a raised dais outside without a railing…
She saw everything, in fact, except Loki.
But he was here–she was certain of it. Taryn stepped into the penthouse. "Good luck, madam," JARVIS murmured quietly just before the elevator doors slid closed behind her.
When she reached the center of the room, she stopped and rested her hand on the back of a white leather sofa. "Loki," she said, calling his name not as a question, but with assurance.
And in a swirl of green, suddenly he was there. Tall and intimidating in his armor, cape, and horned helmet, Loki appeared from nothing beside the bar and bowed. "Lovely girl," Loki said, giving her a smile that was all teeth. "How wonderful of you to join me. Forgive me for not being here to welcome you at once. I confess, I wasn't expecting you quite so early."
His utter lack of surprise to see her grated. She started to point out that he should've expected her to still be safely ensconced in her underground cell with Hassan and his guards; she nearly asked whether or not he even knew that his base had been raided, but then she remembered who she was dealing with. Taryn cocked her head, examining his eyes as she said, "Hassan must have been starting to resist the mind control. The others, were they the same?"
Loki raised an eyebrow and his smile broadened, but that was the only change to his expression. "As clever as she is lovely," he laughed, nodding. "Go on, my dear."
Now she was getting angry. Not for her captors–she should have been enraged on their behalf, for they'd been just as imprisoned as she, but she couldn't quite muster anger for them–but for Loki's coldness and scheming. "Did you plan for all of them to die?" she asked, fists clenching.
"They didn't matter either way," he replied with a shrug. "Their job was to see you to safety, and they did so in the end. Alive or dead makes no difference to me."
"Safety." It was all she could do not to snarl the word.
"Of course," Loki said, still smiling. "That underground base was quite a prize. I was not the only one who coveted it. After I left, I was certain it would be raided by one villain or another, so I simply made sure that the so-called heroes got there to rescue you first. After all, where could you be safer than with SHIELD, on that monstrous flying fortress of theirs? I confess I'd hoped you'd be there by the time I escaped, but alas, they moved more slowly than I'd imagined. Still, no matter, eh?" He leaned against the bar, hands resting easily on the marble edge beside his hips. "I confess I am surprised that they didn't delay your departure a bit more." Then he winked. "Or are a few more of your new SHIELD friends waiting to jump out of the elevator and ambush me?" He laughed.
That laugh pushed her over the edge. Taryn strode across the suite and slapped him across the face, hard as she could. He didn't block the blow although she knew he easily could have–nor did he lose his smile. Two of her fingers had hit his helmet instead of his cheek and her entire hand screamed pain as if she'd slapped the marble bar instead of flesh, but she didn't regret the slap. "Did you also plan for SHIELD to shoot me in the back and torture me, or did that also make no difference to you?"
And now Loki's smile finally vanished, along with every trace of humor from his eyes. "What." The single word hissed sharply from abruptly white lips.
"You heard me, you son of a bitch," she snarled, raising her hand to hit him again–her hand was already throbbing from the first time, and she was fairly certain the two fingers that had slammed into his helmet were broken, but her rage didn't care if she broke every bone in her arm so long as she made him hurt, too.
This time he caught her mid-swing, fingers tight around her wrist, and spun her around. She hadn't yet caught her balance before his other hand raked her shirt up in back so abruptly she heard cloth rip. Cold fingers splayed over her skin, searching. "I see no wound," he grated, voice tight as his grip… but he wasn't hurting her wrist, merely holding it still. His exploring hand was also gentle despite his anger, and she thought, He truly won't hurt me and I'm lucky for that, with what I'm planning.
"Thanks to your brother," Taryn said, fighting to pull her shirt back down with her free hand. "He gave me one of Eir's potions to heal my wounds."
Loki spun her back around to face him, and his face burned with cold wrath. "I will kill them all," he said, his tone leaving no doubt that this was a vow. "I will kill them slowly and savor their screams. No one harms what is mine!"
Taryn raised an eyebrow, mocking. "But I'm not yours, Loki. You released me. I'm no longer your prisoner and I'm sure as hell not your lady love. You have no claim on me at all."
Loki stared down at her, his face blank but for his burning, furious eyes. "Yet here you are. My people have returned you to my keeping," he said, lips curling in a smirk. "Just as I planned."
"No," she countered, making a mental note that Loki had people inside SHIELD, and wondering if she gave enough of a damn to tell them that. "Your people didn't do shit, and I'm here by my own plan. Not yours."
Loki released her at that and Taryn stepped back, glad to put a little distance between them. While he hadn't been holding her in a sexual way, she still found it distracting being pressed right up against him. "So tell me about this plan of yours," he said, his casual stance belied by his white-knuckled grip on the edge of the marble bar. "I am all ears, darling."
Taryn took a deep breath, reaching for the calm she'd found in the elevator. Shockingly, she found it–she hadn't expected to, not this soon after losing her temper so spectacularly, but there it was. Loki waited while she breathed slowly, letting the calm fill her, washing her anger away, until she could finally speak without her voice trembling from either temper or nerves. "I am here to offer you a deal."
Loki raised an amused eyebrow. "Oh, indeed?" he said, smiling again, but not as carelessly as he had before she'd told him what she'd suffered. Anger still burned in his eyes–banked for now, true, but an ember that could flare to life at any time all the same. "And what have you been told to offer me, hmm? Peace between humanity and I, a lasting friendship, an alliance? I have no use for that. Or perhaps it was Stark who masterminded this rather than your world's governments? Did he give you wealth to dangle before me, or knowledge, or power? Wealth I do not require, power I already possess, and what pitiful knowledge he could barter I have stolen merely by taking his stronghold. Tell me, darling, what can they offer that I cannot simply take by force?"
And Taryn raised her empty hands. "Me."
