Max arched an eyebrow and nodded down at the bright yellow drink in Garret's hand. "How is it?"

"Aside from the fact that it looks a bit like urine?" Garret held it up so that they could look through it, the sun highlighting strange particles that neither could place throughout the liquid. "Tastes like it's missing something."

"Well, it is a virgin version," she muttered, wrinkling her nose at the taupe-coloured drink in her hand. The martini glass was cold and the alcohol wasn't overwhelming, but there was a very distinctive coconut taste that she disliked. She almost asked him if he wanted to swap, but she knew he was making a real effort to save all his drinking for dinner: a glass of wine with the meal was expected by his standards.

Sighing, she took another small sip and pursed her lips. It was like taking a huge bite out of an actual coconut. Apparently, Reed's cousin's niece was a wannabe bartender, and after pestering him for weeks about getting some of her drinks on the meu, he'd conceded last night. Sue told Max that the bar staff scrambled to make sure they had all the necessary ingredients, and the once open bar now had two "signature" drinks that cost guests six bucks a glass.

It wasn't overly expensive, and Max didn't have a problem paying for it. Reed's niece, a punked out woman from New Hampshire, loitered by the terrace-top bar and argued with the bartenders whenever she thought they were doing a subpar job.

"Who ever thought this shade of yellow was suitable for a drink?" Garret continued to examine the drink with obvious annoyance.

"I don't know," she said flippantly, her eyes wandering the open balcony area for Loki. "An idiot, obviously."

The hotel Reed and Sue had chosen to host their cocktail hour and dinner reception at that evening was a place that Max would never, ever stay in. In fact, she probably couldn't even afford a coffee at the café in the lobby. Pricey and elite, it was deep in the bowels of the Upper East Side, and if she was being honest, it was what she had expected. While Sue hadn't wanted to throw a monstrosity of a wedding, the woman had fine tastes and the money to afford whatever she wanted—Max was surprised she didn't see gold-plated wall paneling and silver spoons.

Cocktail hour was held on a huge terrace some thirty storeys above the city. The view was spectacular considering all the buildings around them weren't quite as huge, and Max and Garret chose a spot near the edge to enjoy a version of Manhattan that they were unaccustomed to.

Pat and Tony Stark were nowhere to be seen, but that was a rant for another day.

After the ceremony had come to a close, Max had been dragged to a quiet portion of Central Park for photographs as a part of the wedding party. The longest hour of her life then dragged by as she smiled and posed and rearranged people's hair and ties and dresses. Sue and Valeria seemed happy to have her there: Valeria shared Sue's dislike for much of Reed's family. In fact, before she was supposed to walk down the aisle as the flower girl, she had a full-tilt breakdown at the size of the crowd. When Reed's cousin sidled back and offered to walk her down, Valeria was close to shrieking.

Hence Max saw it as her duty to take the little girl on her hip and keep things civil. Sue was close enough to a mental collapse herself with all the changes and pushy relatives, and if she could do something to make things a little easier for the woman, she'd do it.

Scanning the crowd full of finely dressed people, Max noted that Sue was doing better now that she had a real drink in her hand—which was neither the piss-coloured concoction nor the obnoxious coconut blend. Out of the corner of her eye, a familiar face bobbed into view. Thor weaved through the crowd, Loki following, to the bar. Both men stood side-by-side, hands in their pockets, as they placed their drink orders, and Max's face coloured.

She flinched when Garret poked one of her rosy red cheeks.

"Stop," she said playfully, swatting him away. He stumbled back dramatically, his drink sloshing over the rim of his cup.

"Oh no!" he chuckled, wiping his hand on his pants. "You made me wet myself."

Rolling her eyes, she let her gaze wander back to the bar. "You're literally ten years old."

Safely tucked away with a number of couples and groups between her and Loki, she could watch him without fearing he'd meet her gaze.

Because he hadn't met her gaze. Not since they looked at one another in the ceremony had Loki made or maintained eye contact with her. Every time she tried, he quickly looked away and busied himself in conversation. And she wanted to kick him.

Walking down the aisle had been mostly about Valeria. Hell, Max's bouquet was tucked in her armpit while she coached the little girl to drop flower petals without succumbing to her crippling social anxiety. In the back of her mind, she'd known that seeing Loki there was a possibility, but she hadn't been prepared for when she finally saw him. He'd been there, within an arm's reach, and he was breathtaking. In that moment, she'd tried not to cry. Her tears would have been happy ones. They'd have been ones of relief.

She missed him so much it hurt. The ache in her core had threatened to overwhelm her for the majority of the ceremony. Sure, she made it look like she was paying attention to everything that was happening, but the entire time she was so focused on herself, all the while knowing Loki was staring at her. She could feel him. The little hairs on the back of her neck and on her arms were at full attention for the entire ceremony, her stomach aflutter and heart racing. Out of the corner of her eye, he was always there—always a distraction.

The awful yellow dress did not hide sweat stains very well, and before pictures, she'd sat in a public bathroom beneath a hand-dryer to clean herself up.

Once she'd arrived at the hotel, Max practically made a beeline for Loki. He'd been standing with Thor and Jane—easy to spot in a crowd. And when he saw her, he turned away. Max stopped, stunned, as she stared at his back, and then watched him leave without a second glance. Devastated, it took everything she had in her not to barricade herself in what she could only assume would be an excessively large hotel bathroom and cry.

Thankfully, Garret had been there to see the whole thing.

"Let's get a drink," he'd suggested quietly as he'd touched her hand and broke her out of her stunned stupor. "Maybe he's just not ready."

And so there they were. Drinking shitty drinks on a beautiful terrace with sunflowers everywhere, overlooking one of the busiest cities in the world. Somewhere down below, their dinners were being prepped. Their plates cleaned. Their chairs draped.

"How are you doing?" When she glanced back at him, she noticed Garret had also spied Loki. Swallowing thickly, she sighed and turned away, resting her elbow back on the thick metallic railing.

"Why won't he just look at me?" She shook her head, biting the insides of her cheeks for a moment in contemplation. "I mean, he knows I'm here."

"Of course he does." Garret almost took another sip of his drink, but he stopped at the last moment and made a face. "I mean, I'm sure he's hyper-aware of everything you do too."

She sighed. "I guess."

Garret frowned for a moment, then leaned in closer and whispered, "He doesn't have like… heightened hearing or anything, does he?"

The question threw her, and Max opened and closed her mouth several times as she fumbled for a response.

"I don't… I don't know," she managed. "I hadn't ever thought of it."

"Why don't you just go up to him and… I dunno, make him talk?"

"Like I would ever do that," she scoffed. Trailing her fingers over the rim of her glass, she glanced over her shoulder. He was gone. Both he and Thor seemed to have wandered back inside the glass-walled indoor section of the cocktail hour location. She sighed again, almost feeling disappointed.

"Why not?"

"I don't want to force him to do something he's not okay with," she insisted weakly. "I mean, he doesn't… owe me… a conversation."

Garret's eyebrows shot up. "Doesn't he? Nothing? Max—"

"The decent thing to do would be to talk to me." Especially after the way he looked at her. There was no way he could study her with the intensity that he did and not want to do… something with her. The look in his eye was something beyond forced pleasantries. There wasn't an ounce of awkward or anger—not that'd she'd seen anyway. He must have felt something meaningful.

"Look, don't let this bring you down." Garret nudged her again, this time more gently. "I mean, we love weddings. We love eating and drinking and dancing…"

She nodded, unable to argue with him. While she didn't like dancing with relatives in formal scenarios—cue her brother's wedding a few years back—Max did like to show her horrible dance moves off with her friends. "I know we do."

"Let's just pretend he isn't here, and let's have a good time," he suggested. "I'll dance to whatever song you want."

Her lips quirked upward. "You would have done that anyway."

They looked at one another for a moment, and she decided that she'd made the right choice in dates. Even if she had brought Pat, the woman would have flitted off at the first sign of gorgeous superheroes. The thought made her smile weaken, so she pushed it out of her mind. Throwing her shoulders back, she nodded toward the bar.

"Want to get different drinks?"

"God yes," Garret groaned. She laughed, and they both deposited their almost full drinks on a nearby cluttered table, its pretentiously high and unsupportive chairs vacant, before making their way to the bar arm in arm.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Loki watching her through one of the glass walls, and this time she turned away. This time, she asked for a stronger drink, hoping both actions would give her a confidence boost to steer her way through what was bound to be a long night.

"Oh my god," Darcy moaned, one of her utensils emitting an unsettling screech as she sliced it across her plate. "I don't know how anyone can get chicken this moist, but it's a talent I will envy forever."

There were murmurs of agreement from those around him, and Loki let out a long, heavy sigh. Across the grand hall, at a large round table of her own, was Max. If he leaned a little to the left, he could see her perfectly. Unfortunately, the Captain thought Loki had been staring at him ever since their meal began well over an hour ago, and he'd noticed the man grow increasingly uncomfortable as time passed.

Loki was a fool—still a fool, forever a fool. He'd realized once Max left that he had no idea what he would say to her upon their first meeting. No words came to mind or burned the tip of his tongue. Nothing. And how could he approach her with nothing in mind? Since he had been so rudely silent in their last hours together, he figured he ought to get things started—get the ball rolling, as Darcy would say.

He cast the curvaceous brunette beside him a look: she'd grown on him as of late, though most days he'd like to toss her off the top of the tower and see how far her insides spread on the sidewalk below.

Fork and knife in his hand, his eyes wandered to Max. Seated between Garret and Johnny, she seemed to be having a wonderful time. And why wouldn't she? This was the place where Max thrived. She was so much better at polite conversation and spontaneous fun than he was. He also assumed people wanted to speak to Max. She hadn't tried to take over the world. Surrounded by superheroes—and Max's blonde roommate—at his table, no one tried to initiate conversation with him.

Not that he cared. He had very little to say that wouldn't come out in a sneer at the expense of another, so he figured it was best to keep quiet.

Still, he couldn't help but watch her—but only when she wasn't looking at him, and that hadn't been for quite some time. Initially, he hadn't wanted to encourage an act of bravery, of boldness from her, until he'd come up with something to say. He could always tell her he missed her, but that wasn't good enough. As proficient as he was with his words, Loki couldn't find the ones to express precisely how he felt about Max in that moment. Love wasn't enough. Missing was a weak verb. Anger and sorrow and longing were hollow compared to the storm of feelings inside, and it didn't do either him or Max justice to say them aloud.

He wanted it to be perfect. He wanted to find her and have the perfect sentiment to tell her just how chaotic his mind had been without her. It was like the last time he'd left her, taken hostage by Pagurolids. Sure, he hadn't loved her then. Maybe he was on his way, but after days of torture and nights so black he thought he'd go insane, Loki sometimes let his mind wander back to the little human who had broken through one of his many outer layers. Back then, he could tell her that he missed her.

What he felt now was something else entirely.

And he could sense her disappointment in him. After the guests and the happily married couple enjoyed cocktail drinks and appetizers on the upper floor of a prestigious hotel, they were swept down into the dinner hall—and Max had stopped looking for him. She'd stopped trying to meet his gaze. She'd just… stopped. A panic set off within him, but when it was obvious she wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, he knew he had the time to think.

But thinking was useless when he continued to draw a blank. Well, not quite a blank: Loki's mind was a mess of colour and light and darkness, and he couldn't find a moment of calm and clarity when it came to Max Wright.

Shaking his head, he dug back into his meal, pleased he had chosen the chicken: Jane had less than positive things to say about the fish, but she was also four glasses of wine in to the evening, and her opinion was taken less and less seriously with each glass. Chewing thoughtfully on his next bite, Loki's eyes swept the hall. The yellow theme seemed to continue through, but at least the hotel staff had the decency to mute it.

What was strange—according to those accustomed to Earth weddings—was that there was no head table. Sue and Reed sat at a small round table, lost in the sea of smiling faces and laughter with their little family, having only their children to keep them company. At the far side of the massive hall, the side through which they first walked through, was an expansive space for dancing, along with a stage for the musician. Darcy had told everyone that the musician—a dee-jay, apparently—was quite famous.

Along with the wine, there was another bar station that offered free, unlimited drinks all night, and as people made use of it, both Loki and Thor silently acknowledged to one another that this wedding was starting to feel more like the Asgardian festivities they were accustomed to. The majority of the room remained civilized throughout the meal thus far, but everyone had certainly grown louder.

As he continued to study the soft lighting and candle formations on the tables around him, a familiar face passed into view. Upon realizing who it was, Loki smiled a genuine smile and slid his chair back to greet the new arrival.

"Peter," he said, forgoing any notion of the Spider persona in the company of the other heroes. After all, none of them knew the identity of the Spider, and it seemed his young friend wanted to keep it that way. "I wasn't aware you were here this evening."

A pretty little blonde woman traipsed behind him, their hands clasped. Peter's eyes swept across the table of Avengers—and companions—briefly before shaking his hand.

"We're sitting with some of Reed's family, actually," Peter admitted with a nod behind him. "Just wanted to come say hello." When Loki's eyes drifted toward the woman again, Peter tugged her forward. "This is my girlfriend."

"Gwen," the woman said as she held out her hand. Loki reached forward and clasped it, careful not to squeeze too hard.

"Loki."

"Tony!" His eye twitched when the ridiculous man spoke up, and he slowly turned back to see Stark address the Spider. "Did you say your name was Peter?"

Peter readjusted his glasses briefly before nodding. "Yes."

"And how do you know the happy couple?"

"We were both interns at Oscorp," Gwen replied, her hand lacing with Peter's again as she spoke. "We met Reed there, actually."

The eyes of the entire table had wandered up to the interaction, and Loki's narrowed at Stark. His opinion of the man hadn't altered any despite living in such close quarters, though the sentiment seemed to be mutual.

Stark grabbed his glass and took a quick sip, and Pat stabbed at her salad in silence, an elbow on the table and head in hand.

"And what do you do now? Still at Oscorp?"

Loki exhaled noisily as Peter said, "No… I thought it was time to try something different."

Stark nodded a few times. "Reed's mentioned you before. I think we should have coffee."

All eyes now darted to Peter, and the young man shrugged.

"I guess—"

"Maybe we can find you a real job… Put your web design to better use, huh?" Stark raised his glass and toasted Peter, whose cheeks flushed a dull pink at the insinuation. "Nice to meet you, Peter."

Loki watched Peter smile uncomfortably, and he clapped the young man gently on the shoulder to distract him.

"Perhaps I'll find you later," he suggested. "We can catch up then."

"Y-Yeah." Peter cleared his throat and immediately started fiddling with his tie. "Sure… Good to see you."

Loki shot Stark a glare as he settled back down into his chair. The man smirked, but when Max's roommate tried to whisper something to him, her hand on his arm, he turned away and started a new conversation with Bruce Banner.

With dinner, dessert, speeches, and toasts finally over, it felt like the real party could officially begin. The ridiculously expensive DJ that Sue and Reed hired entertained the crowd with a wide variety of music, and Max found herself wandering between the dance floor and the bar, Garret usually in tow. She'd met up with Peter and his girlfriend, spent way too much time with an increasingly drunk Johnny, and shared a dance with Sue, who was actually starting to enjoy herself.

And Loki… Loki was constantly pushed to the back of her mind. He was never looking at her when she tried to make eye contact, and that said something to her. If he wanted to mope around at his table with only Thor and Jane for company, fine. Apparently she'd misread the signs when their eyes met at the church—apparently she was reading too much into things.

Thankfully, the open bar in the reception hall did not have the horrible "signature" drinks from cocktail hour, and Max indulged herself just enough to get her buzzed. She did, however, make a real effort to watch her drinking around Garret still. Her friend seemed to be handling things just fine: he was social enough to go with the flow, and Johnny thought he was hilarious during dinner. Aside from her situation with Loki, the evening was actually turning out to be pretty fun.

Nursing her vodka-cranberry concoction as the bartender filled a glass of Root Beer for Garret, Max's eyes widened when she spotted something she'd been waiting for since she lived at the Avengers Tower. There, in the shadowy sides of the dance floor, was Johnny and Darcy kissing—hard. Face eating. Mouth mashing. Hands wandering without a care in the world.

Her jaw dropped and lips curled into a smile, and before she even considered what she was doing, she shoved her drink into Garret's hand and teetered across the immaculate hardwood toward Jane. Jane near her table. Near Loki.

"Look, look!" She grabbed the short woman's arm once she was close enough and whirled her around, pointing out Darcy and Johnny. "I told you!"

The woman looked completely stunned for a moment, as did Thor beside her, and then her cheeks flushed a bright red.

Jane stomped her foot, something so uncharacteristic that it made Max laugh, and then huffed. "Damn it, Darcy!"

"I believe that was—"

"I know," the woman snapped, grabbing her purse off the table and pulling a crisp ten dollar bill from it. "You win."

"I'm just great at predicting these things," she giggled as she tucked the money into her clutch, which dangled haplessly from her wrist. "Pleasure doing business with you."

Jane grunted as she refilled her wine glass, and when Max glanced up at Thor, she noticed he was grinning too. Unfortunately, the mirth didn't extend to Loki. She swore she felt his eyes on her in the last few moments, but when she looked to him, he seemed more interested in the remnants of his dessert than her. Her smile lost a bit of its brightness as her heart pounded.

The silence dragged on for too long, and just as Thor opened his mouth to say something, Max rolled her eyes and stalked away.

Garret raised his eyebrows as she approached, and then handed her drink back. "What was that?"

"We had a bet a while ago about whether Johnny and Darcy would be a thing," Max muttered, the euphoria from winning quickly fading at Loki's obvious dismissal.

"Oh…" His gaze wandered over to the duo, and Max watched him smirk. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"Are they a thing then?"

"Dunno. I mean, I guess they're something."

"Hey, hey," Garret chided, nudging her arm to get her attention. "Happy times, remember? This is fun. We love weddings."

Squaring her shoulders and exhaling deeply, Max nodded before taking a quick sip.

"We do."

He threw his arm around her shoulders and steered her away from the bar, away from Loki's stare. "So, let's go enjoy this wedding."

"What's wrong?" Loki closed his eyes and sighed as Thor clamped a hand down on his shoulder. "Have you grown in to the chair? Get up… Come for a drink."

"I'm fine here," he remarked tersely, shaking his brother off and crossing his arms. "Leave me be."

Thor's sigh had just as much annoyance in it as Loki's did, and the man walked off shortly after, no doubt to tend to his drunken sweetheart. He hadn't expected he'd be this surly, but as the evening wore on, Loki grew less and less impressed with his capabilities. He watched Max interact with others, smiling and laughing and dancing, and here he sat, useless and sullen.

Where had all his bravado gone? Where was his spirit these days?

Gone. Stomped out and defeated. Every victory he'd made had been for someone else. He'd won nothing on his own, garnered no titles or trophies. He'd gone from one circle of torture to another, each different in their ways but all equally effective in making him feel small.

And then there was her. He'd stayed here for her, and now she couldn't look at him without Loki sensing the hurt in her eyes, the disappointment in her gaze. It was obvious that she thought he'd given up, and perhaps he had.

The occupants of the hall had somewhat dispersed. There was both the dining and dancing area coupled with a quieter lounge-type setting the next hall over. Perhaps he'd be happier there, but Max wasn't there. She was here—laughing and drinking and smiling.

Well, perhaps not now. It seemed she'd taken a break from her merriment, almost an hour after she'd approached Jane about Darcy and Johnny. Loki studied her figure at the bar. She was alone for the first time that evening, her head down and eyes fixed on the countertop. There was an empty glass in front of her, which the bartender swiped away and quickly refilled.

When Garret wandered into his line of sight, he quickly looked away from Max. Unfortunately, he'd run out of things at the table to feign interest over, and all his dinner companions had disappeared into the rambunctious crowd. Even his plates had been taken away by the servers, which left him with nothing but a half-empty glass of red wine to mull over.

"Hey, man."

He looked up slowly as Garret approached, but he couldn't be bothered to stand. If he stood, he'd probably leave.

"Garret."

"How's everything going?"

Loki's eyebrows shot up. Was that some sort of trick question? Had the man posed it to be cruel? Lips pursed slightly, Loki shrugged his shoulders and brought his wine glass to his lips. The liquid inside was almost tepid now—unpalatable.

"I just love weddings," Garret continued, hovering over him, his hands buried in his pants pockets. "I mean, celebrating love with awesome food and drinks, and then… half-decent music—"

"You are enjoying this?" Loki pointed in the general direction of the night's musician. "Hardly seems to suit the happy couple."

"Yeah, it's a little too top forties for me, but it's not my wedding." The man glanced back at the bar before crouching down a little and lowering his voice. "Look, why don't you go ask her to dance?"

Loki's brow furrowed slowly. "What?"

"I mean, I know she wants to talk to you, and maybe you don't want to talk, but you've been staring holes into her all night," Garret told him, his voice losing its strength with each passing word, "and she's starting to… She's a bit upset."

His wine glass cracked beneath his palm as his hand tightened around it, and Garret stepped away. Hands up, the man cleared his throat.

"Just… trying to help," he muttered. And with that, he was gone. Loki watched him approach Max at the bar, bouncing and flailing his arms to the whumping of the music until she giggled. The man then yanked her toward the dance floor, which was littered with other guests, and twirled her. Loki's lips twitched when he watched her smile grow.

Perhaps he ought to just leave her with Garret. Leave her with all of this—wouldn't she be happier with him gone? Sure, he'd thought he needed to find the right thing to say to her, but maybe the right thing was nothing at all. The very idea of giving up now, however, made his chest constrict, his stomach churn.

But what other choice did he have? He had no excuse for his behaviour. He had no words of comfort for the pain they'd caused one another. He had nothing.

And that in itself just might be his answer.

"Pretentious dick," Max muttered as she hopped off the stage. Jane's ten dollar bill was now in the hands of the supposedly famous DJ, who claimed he wouldn't play an unremixed version of any Katy Perry songs because they weren't on his list. Valeria, however, wears Katy Perry pajamas. The woman was, surprisingly enough, her musical idol, and Max thought it would make the little girl's night to hear her favourite singer at her parents' wedding. Little did she know she'd need to fork over cash to get the guy to play something basic—especially when Max had an inkling how much he was getting paid.

"Is he going to do it?" Johnny had finally detached from Darcy for long enough to spend some time with Max and Garret again, though she could see the brunette stumbling back from the bar through the small crowd on the dance floor.

"I still think you should have asked him," she snapped, sliding her clutch's wristband back up her arm with a huff. "I had to pay him."

"What?" Johnny shot a scowl up to the booth, but the DJ seemed too preoccupied with his laptop to notice. "I thought a cute girl would go over better than—"

"A superhero celebrity?" Max said with a raised eyebrow. "Yeah, I think we could have handled that a little differently."

"But he's going to play something?"

Garret stumbled over the last word, which caught her attention, but the liquid in his glass was clear and unscented. Taking a deep breath, she nodded.

"He said he'd find something unaltered for us."

Johnny nodded and turned to scope the hall, arms folded across his chest. "Where's Valeria?"

The man smiled when Darcy returned with a drink for each of them, and before they could locate the little girl, Hummingbird Heartbeat blared out of the speakers. Max's jaw dropped, the first few words completely inappropriate for Valeria, and whirled around on the spot. When she met the DJ's eye, he gave her a thumbs up before going back to his laptop.

"Don't laugh," Max snapped, smacking both Garret and Johnny. "Sue's going to kill me if she knows I requested that for her five year old."

Thankfully, Valeria had missed the opening few beats. They all spotted the little girl racing toward them shortly after, Reed's mother in tow, with a massive smile on her face.

"Katy Perry!" she shrieked, flying into Johnny's arms when he crouched down for her.

"Max asked the music man to play it for you," he told her. Max leaned forward for the little girl's hug, and when Reed's mother decided she was in good hands, she watched the woman wander back to Franklin. The kid was completely passed out at a table, plates of half-eaten desserts scattered around him, and barely roused when his grandmother gently rubbed his back.

The crowd had thinned out as the song blared over the hall, and Max kicked off her shoes to join her companions in amusing Valeria. She jumped around, screamed the lyrics, and let the little girl stand on her feet while she shuffled on the spot. It was… fun. It was easy to forget that a certain someone was sitting beneath his dark storm cloud nearby, though she couldn't help but shoot him a look every so often. He was, of course, never looking at her.

Once the song came to an end, a slightly hoarse Sue swept in to take Valeria back. Apparently, the kids were on their way out with Reed's parents for the evening—it was well after their bedtime.

"Thank you for today," Sue murmured as Valeria said her good nights to the others. "For everything."

"Hey, same to you," Max said, smiling softly. "I mean it."

And she did. Shaking off what could have been a sad moment, Max kissed Valeria on the cheek before she left, and Garret tugged her back onto the dance floor once Sue and Valeria sauntered off to wake Franklin. Her friend was more exuberant than ever, encouraging dancing and singing with horribly embarrassing moves that, at the last moment, Max realized Johnny was filming on his phone.

Max then spent a great deal of time trying to wrestle the phone out of his hands—failing spectacularly, of course—and when Johnny scuttled away from the dance floor with a cackle, Max finally spotted her roommate. Pat had left the apartment that morning without telling her. She got ready without Max. She chose her outfit for the night on her own. She'd barely said two words to Max since she'd arrived at the wedding. And yet here she was, looking miserable. The behaviour was so unlike Pat. Max had grown up with her, and the woman she'd seen over the last few weeks was some unwelcome stranger that she wanted to leave.

"Hi," Pat said quietly as she approached. Max tried to offer a smile, slightly winded from all her Johnny-chasing. She took a deep breath and smoothed some of the flyaway hairs down. Her braid was intact, but more rambunctious dancing could probably send it loose.

"Hi." Toes wiggling on the slightly sticky wooden dance floor, she took a moment to find her black heels. Someone in their good grace had kicked them to the side: no need for anyone to faceplant while stumbling over them. She then pursed her lips at Pat, who looked notably guilty. "Where have you been?"

"With… Tony." Pat ran a finger under her eye and sniffled. "I thought he wanted me to come here with him… He doesn't even talk to me."

Max's eyes swept over her friend's disheveled green dress, and she assumed Stark had more things on his mind than talking with Pat. The idea sent both a very real rage and a wave of annoyance through her. Rage at the thought that someone could make Pat cry, and annoyance that Pat hadn't seen this coming. Sure, she disliked gossip columns as much as the next person, but from all they'd read about Tony Stark, he wasn't exactly a gentleman when it came to his affairs.

She wanted to roll her eyes. She wanted to say, "Well, duh."

But she didn't. Instead, Max took her friend by the hand and stroked her thumb over Pat's cool skin.

"Want to dance?"

Pat nodded with a sad smile, then licked her lips. "Drink first?"

Max shook her head as she pulled her toward the small crowd of people. "No. Just dance. Please?"

Her friend put up no resistance, and moments later she seemed to shake off Tony's cold shoulder. Music cured all manner of things, apparently. They even eventually managed to drag a solo Captain America onto the dance floor. He'd been sitting at the bar, swaying slightly to the music, and neither Pat nor Max (nor Garret, really) could pass on the opportunity to see the man break it down. The Captain—Steve—was a better sport than she anticipated, but when she watched Pat turn her charms toward him, Max couldn't help but roll her eyes.

Thor had a hard time not smiling. His lady was drunk. Beyond drunk, actually. Drunker than he'd ever seen her, and she'd never been more endearing to him. He suspected her drinking had something to do with Darcy's comment from that morning that she seldom let loose at big social gatherings, that she didn't know how to have a good time. Thor objected to the idea: Jane knew how to have a good time in plenty of different ways. She was both humorous and charming, and she was so without drinking an entire bottle of wine by herself.

That was what she had done—probably more, now that he considered it—and Thor couldn't take it back. He couldn't make her sober, so he decided to just enjoy the ride. After all, the wedding itself, while toned down and quite tame by Asgardian standards, had been nice. He was having a good time. The people around him were having a good time.

All but one.

Loki would never admit it, but his mood had been a hundred times better this past week than it had been in quite some time. He had been excited for the wedding, and Thor knew it was because he would have the opportunity to see Max. Unfortunately, his brother's mood plummeted after they saw one another, and no matter how hard he racked his brains, Thor couldn't understand why. After all, neither had said a word to one another, and yet Loki was surly and downtrodden. Thor wanted to be supportive. He was still on this planet because he thought it was important to stand behind Loki for once.

But there was only so much he could do in one night, and his lady was drunk. Let Loki sulk at the table until it was time to leave. Jane deserved Thor's attention too, especially when they both knew the end was near.

He chuckled when Jane tried to get up on a barstool. She failed miserably, of course, for her coordination was highly impaired, and she was lucky he was there to catch her.

"Thor…" Her blinking had slowed considerably, and she smiled up at him with a loopy grin that he'd never seen before. "I missed."

"You did," he said gently. This time, he hoisted her up and set her on the little stool himself, mindful not to handle her too roughly. "How's that?"

"Good… s'all good."

His smile bloomed as he brushed the hair out of her face. "Good."

Jane pointed, her arm flying all over the place, and cocked her head to the side. "Moving!"

She elongated the 'o' sound in the word, then snorted, her chin dipping down into her chest. Shaking his head, Thor glanced over his shoulder and straightened when he saw Loki stalking toward the back exit. The man looked to no one was he moved, and a part of him wanted to run after him. After all, Loki was capable of hurting others when he was in such a mood, and it seemed unwise to let him find his own way back to the Avengers Tower.

Luckily for him, he wouldn't be charged with that task. Before he could take two steps from Jane, he spied Max hurrying after his brother, bouncing on one foot briefly to get her shoes on. Once she disappeared from the hall, vanishing through the same door that Loki had taken, Thor turned his attention back to Jane, who was shoving olives into her mouth and grinning at him with a green smile.

Thor felt he had made the right choice, and he popped one of the bitter berries into his mouth with a smirk.

He couldn't leave.

Max might have been doing her hardest to have a grand time at this wedding without Loki dragging her down, but she didn't want him to leave. She might not have been looking at him, but she liked having him there.

Was it selfish of her? Probably. But… he couldn't leave. Not yet. Not when they hadn't said a single word to one another all night.

Feeling the blisters on her feet now that they were back in her shoes, Max gritted her teeth and pushed through the pain. She left behind the soft yellow lighting and noisy drunks for a dark hallway and silence. It would, if she figured correctly, lead Loki out to the street—and then he'd probably be gone for good. Heels clacking noisily on the pristine tiling, Max's breath shuddered out when she spotted him descending a stairwell, silhouette outlined by the lamps outside the doors.

He stopped when she made her steps louder, a hand on the railing that swept down the center of the wide, low-set stairwell. With his back to her, Max slowed, heart pounding and palms sweating. What was she supposed to say? Tell him he couldn't leave? No matter how desperately she wanted to speak to him, she had no idea where to start that particular conversation.

But she pressed on still. She made it all the way to the edge of the stairs before it became too difficult for her to put one foot in front of the other. With the echo of her shoes dying out once she stopped, she waited, wondering if he could hear her pulse racing.

Her breath caught in her throat when he finally turned around. The expression on his face was drawn and tired. In the strange lighting, she could see the cut of his cheekbones, darkness surrounding his eyes.

Good grief did she ever love him. Max pressed her lips together to keep them from trembling, her hand also on the thin metal railing to hide the tremors. When he finally started to climb back up the stairs, he still wouldn't look at her—not until he was two steps below. Almost at the same height, Loki slowly glanced up. Mouth set in a thin line, he was hard to read. Her ear twitched when she heard something down the hall, but silence blanketed them again shortly after.

Hello. She could have started with that. It would have been as good as any greeting, but when she parted her lips, the word fell flat on her tongue—it didn't even make it to the tip. Instead, her fingers went to his tie, pushing the knot so that it was centered properly.

"It's crooked," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Touching him again was soothing. To feel him, solid and real, beneath her fingertips… She actually noticed some of her anxiety melting away. Loki, on the other hand, grew painfully still under the touch. His eyes stayed fixed on her, unblinking. His knuckles were white, his hand wrapped so tightly around the railing.

Max took a shaky breath, hoping that if she just started speaking, something worthwhile would come out. Loki didn't give her the opportunity to do so. Before she even exhaled that drawn-in breath, he stepped up the last two steps and pressed his lips to hers. She'd never experienced a kiss that had made her weak in the knees before, so this was a whole new experience. Gripping his jacket, she did her best to hold herself up, but Loki's arms did the job just fine. They wrapped around her tightly, crushing her against his chest.

They stayed like that for some time, her in his arms, lips closed and chaste. It was Loki who broke away first, lingering so close that she could feel the clash of his warm breath and cool skin. She thought it might be appropriate to say something real now, but when no words sprang to mind, she tilted her head up and kissed him again. This time, their lips parted, and with her fingers woven through his hair, Loki walked her back until she collided with the wall. His hands wandered as their tongues met, eager to greet one another after such a long time apart.

Arousal flared within her, finally awake from its lengthy dormancy, and she let out a breathy whimper when he ran his parted lips over her jaw and down her neck. His teeth found her sensitive spots, the ones that always sent a shot of pleasure through her and made her skin prickle. Her hands fisted in his hair when he nipped and sucked—hard enough to leave her marked, that was for certain.

It all came to a crashing halt when Loki brought his hand to her face. He cupped her cheek, then pulled back and looked at his palm. She saw the glistening and quickly touched her cheek. When had she started crying? Taking a few uneven breaths, she shook her head and smiled, her hand fisted in the soft fabric of his jacket.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, hating how nasally she sounded. "I'm sorry… They're happy tears."

He smiled briefly, then brushed the wet streams away with his knuckles. It seemed, for now, the moment was ruined.

"I don't want to stay here," he told her, his voice sending chills up her spine. Max ran her hand down his arm. Once it was close enough, Loki wrapped his hand around hers and squeezed. She winced, but it was easy to ignore the tightness of his grip when their eyes met.

"My place isn't far."

He nodded at the suggestion, but before he could pull her out the door, she stopped him.

"I need my things," she said. "I left my clutch with Pat…"

For a moment, she wondered if he was just going to go, if she had to leave with him now or it was over. But that wasn't the case. Her paranoia wasn't correct, and she wondered if it ever would be when it came to Loki. Rather than telling her to go, to hurry, Loki swooped down and kissed her softly once more. Her fingertips ghosted along his jawline, eyes closed and body pressed to him.

When he let her go, she took his hand in both of hers and led him down the dimly lit back hallway.

And as she walked beside him, on an emotional high from everything that had just happened, a silly little voice in her head told her that this was all too easy.

Too easy indeed.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

YEAAAAAY! A reviewer mentioned that they missed Max and Loki, and to be honest, I did too. I prefer them together over angsty heartbreak, but life isn't always sunshine and daisies, so there you have it.

I thought I had planned this chapter out so hardcore in my head. It's the one chapter I always picture whenever I'm having quiet plotting time with music, but after I started outlining in detail, I realized the majority of the plotting I'd done in my head was Max and co. dancing and being idiots and doing flaming shots and making Captain America dance to LMFAO.

So.

That did nothing for me. Just goes to show that not everything translates smoothly from head to paper. When all was said and done, Loki was way more miserable than I originally anticipated, and I don't think it's entirely to do with Max.

Now, I don't think there will be an update next week. My book comes out in a week and a half, and I still have lots of formatting and stressing to do before that. I'll be working on the next chapter while I'm doing that, but I'm not going to rush to get it posted next week. After all, I'm also trying to work on the second book in my original Loki/Aphrodite series (sequel to the one being published soonish), so my writing plate is full.

Just a fun fact: in September, I'm going to be doing a review promo for my book. If you make a review in September, you can send me a link to it AND request a one-shot from any of my stories. You can ask for something told from a different POV, or ask for an AU scenario to be played out—anything. I'm pretty excited to do it, particularly with readers from this story. I know people have brought up cool ideas in the past, so it'll be fun to play.

Anyway! I might aim to have the update out on the 20th, which is the day my book will be released… Just so I can publish something that I know people will, theoretically, enjoy while I have a mental breakdown about my novella. Yeesh.

ANYWAY! Much love to all my reviewers and silent lurkers alike! SEE YOU SOON!