"YOU CALLED HER A CRYING VAGINA?!"

"Keep your voice down," Loki hissed, putting his hand over Gwen's mouth as he dragged her into a less crowded part of the museum. "And those weren't the exact words I used."

"Dude," she said, pulling his hand away, "that is so sexist. Admittedly I have called you a stroppy dick on several occasions, but that was warranted."

"Are you finished chastising me?" Loki asked, and reluctantly Gwen nodded. "I have a question to ask you."

"About what?"

"History."

Her face lit up. "Yay!"

"To think that you've killed people," Loki smirked.

"Just ask me the question, idiot."

They both sat down on a bench in a shadowy corner. "When I was in Stuttgart during the week of the Chitauri invasion-"

"Is this about the man who stood up?"

He looked at her. "How did you know?"

"He kinda became a symbol," she explained to him, "of the civilian resistance to tyrants. He got a medal and everything from the UN, it was lovely."

"He said… he said that there are always men like me."

That was the simple sentence, captured on a dozen CCTV cameras, that had made the elderly man more heroic, more iconic in Gwen's eyes, than all of the Avengers combined. "Well," she shrugged, "choosing to start your campaign to take over the world in Germany was probably a mistake. One man made that country tear itself apart, which led to the biggest war the world has ever seen. You remember Catch-22? It's set during that war."

"What happened?"

"Are you sure?" she asked him. "You really wanna get into this? Because it is gonna take a hell of a long time to explain, and it really isn't going to increase your faith in humanity."

"To be honest," Loki admitted, "I'll probably just stop listening halfway through and take the opportunity to enjoy the view."

"Cute," she grinned, "albeit a bit weird."

He held out his arms. "Educate me."

%

That night, alone in her office, Gwen put her head in her hands and cried.

She had built up so much for herself- friends, a small underground empire, a nice wardrobe, Loki. Five years ago she had been a low-level drug dealer, a year ago she had been homeless, six months ago she had been reliant on one other person for her income. And she was grateful for it, she really was, but she was going to have to give all of it up for something more important. For her plan to work, she needed to disappear completely and without warning, or otherwise the Rats would find her. It appeared she had trained them too well.

After five minutes of weakness, she stood up, sorted out her streaky mascara and changed into old, un-badass clothes like the ones she always used to wear, which she could sleep and walk in without feeling ridiculously uncomfortable. She made one last sweep of her office, gave her desk chair a longing look and closed the door behind her before heading downstairs.

She found James in the basement kitchen with Bobby and a couple others, playing a very intense and probably quite corrupt game of Monopoly. James was losing, not least because he kept getting streets confused with the London version of the game.

"I thought I banned capitalist propaganda under my roof," she said.

"That sounds like you, yeah."

"Right - and Bobby," Gwen ordered, "stop giving money to Soph under the table. I know she's your girlfriend, but real business doesn't work like… actually, it does. Carry on."

"Miss!"

"Sorry, James. It's a dog eat dog world out there, and it's a Rat eat valet world in here." She faltered.

"Miss," said James, slightly quieter as the others continued to fight over the last pale blue space, "are you all right?"

"I'm fine, James, I just… nothing." She squeezed his shoulder. "Say goodnight to the others for me."

"Yes, miss."

"Bobby!" she said, suppressing her emotions.

"What?"

"My dazzling, beautiful, magnificent second in command. There's a gun in the second drawer of my desk, a couple of knives in the lining of my chair and the code to the safe is James' birthday."

Bobby narrowed her eyes. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I love you." She disappeared before anyone could ask her anymore questions, running up to her bedroom and pulling the bag she had packed two weeks previously out of the cupboard. "Goodbye, my own bedroom. It was short but sweet. Goodbye, office with the spinny chair and filing system only I understand. Have a nice life without me, home."

Gwen stared at the bed that she was no longer scared of, and thought about, how, the first time she had been on it with Loki, he had taken her and held her so she was lying on him, not it. It had probably just been a ploy to ensure she didn't freak out and that he got laid, but still, it had meant something to her, that he had even remembered that.

She thought of the way Loki held her – at the waist, his thumb at the bottom of her ribcage and his smallest finger curving over her hip – and how he always rolled away from her when he slept. Then, because she was getting quite emotional again, Gwen immediately tried to stop thinking about it, or how he grinned as he kissed her…

Drat.

She grabbed her papers, ticket and excellently forged passport, went downstairs and fetched Algernon.

"It's just you and me again, buddy," she said to the mouse, tucking him into her coat pocket. "Not for long, hopefully, and I gotta figure out how to get you through security first. Still, you should be easier than the knife."

She was already out of the building; she turned around, saluted it one last time, and started to make her way to the airport.

I'm coming, Lucy.

A/N aaand the honeymoon period is over. PLUS we hit 100 followers! AHHH! Also, a bit of admin - hlflores, I answered your review in a private message, did you get it? It was quite long. If you didn't, the general gist of it was that all your questions will be answered sooner or later, and also that there's not going to be that typical solution of "turn the mortal Asgardian and cue the happy ever after music", partially because Gwen's too proud and too human for that, and partially because I want the obvious problems in their relationship to be addressed, directly, without loopholes. This fic isn't meant to be a tragedy, but it's not a fairytale either. I wanted to make it as realistic as you could get with, like, aliens and gods and stuff. So... not that realistic really, but whevs. Apologies for the long A/N, too. I'll shut up now.