The Third One
Jane went to bed that morning, as it was nearly one am, with a lot on her mind. She was a bit disappointed in the lack of progress being made…but she wasn't too hard on herself. What she had hoped to accomplish was the prevention of more murders, and even though it had only been a week, she thought that, perhaps, things were being talked about more openly.
Well, between her and Loki, at any rate.
…and her mind drifted to Loki.
He was being incredibly supportive and helpful. She smiled and laid back into her bed, worn from time. She was one of the only women she knew her age that was still a virgin, still slept in the same bed she and her father had purchased when she was twenty. He had told her to find a husband, a proper marriage bed. But Jane had no inclination for that sort of thing.
She wasn't romantic, not really. She rather thought that the entire business was ludicrous. She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. She needed no man.
And while she had thought herself to be in love at one point, she quickly dismissed it; both then and now.
She wouldn't think it…would not even think his name. She had repressed it so that she barely thought of it with any emotion any longer.
The straw mattress was jabbing her a bit, and she shifted to her side.
All right, Jane Foster, she thought. Perhaps she did romanticize the whole episode a touch…
She had always lingered long at the shop after her father saw the last customer out. She was fifteen and he was priming her to take over.
"Not many women who run shops, Jane. It'll do you well to learn. Make your own way in this grimy world," he had said.
True, London was grimy…she looked about.
At twenty, many of her friends were already setting about marrying. Jane could not have cared less about it.
Until one day, she saw the Odinson family at Spitalfields market, just down the street from the apothecary, looking at one of the buildings to purchase. There were three of them: an older man, a younger blonde man, and a younger man with dark, raven hair. They all of them were quite tall.
Jane was curious, it was in her nature to be so, and she walked over to the group, eyeing them all tangentially. The dark man noticed her almost straight away, and she looked away. The blonde one was laughing heartily, and Jane smiled at his laughter. He seemed very happy.
The group went inside the storefront, while Jane lingered outside in the square.
After some time of her sitting on the stone wall, listening to the market sounds, the blonde man came out and headed for her station on the wall.
"Lovely day, isn't it?" he asked.
Jane blushed and nodded.
"Are we mute, Miss?"
"No," she hurriedly replied.
"How do you like the Market?"
"I like it well enough."
"Just well enough?" he smiled.
Jane shrugged. "I'm Jane."
"Pleasure. I'm Thor."
Odd name. "Will you be purchasing that storefront?"
"Mm…I think that father would like to, yes," he nodded. "Though, I might be joining him more often if I have the pleasure of seeing your lovely face each day," he winked at her and left.
And from that day on, Jane looked for Thor. Sometimes she would see him, and they would flirt. And her fancy grew…
Jane sighed once more…it was difficult to sleep in the heat. Especially with these memories flooding her…
A few years later, Loki came by the apothecary. He required some herbs for his mother's nerves. She was in a state because Thor was marrying, and the wedding was steadily growing out of control…
"Have you anything for such an ailment?" he asked.
Jane was staring at him.
Thor was marrying.
And he wasn't marrying her.
Of course he wasn't marrying her! She had spoken to him a handful of times!
"Pardon me, but are you well?" asked Loki.
"Hm? Fine," and she mixed the tonic.
"Well," he continued. "If that is how you behave when you are well, I'd hate to see you ill."
That was her first real encounter with Loki.
She smiled.
He was a good friend.
Loki made his way through the labyrinth of Whitechapel, looking at every man who uttered a sentence with a foreign accent with a critical eye. He followed a few…heard some cries of "Murder!" ran to the source, but found nothing.
Unfortunately, such cries were common enough in the area.
He ended up at four am at the Ten Bells pub, not terribly far from the market. He was exhausted.
There was a small group of people sitting at a table not far from where he stationed himself at the bar. They were loud and quite intoxicated.
He wasn't paying much mind to anything being said, done with the business as he was.
After about twenty minutes thus, he was thrown forward into his ale…
"Pardon me, guvna," came a raspy woman's voice.
He looked at her. ""s'all right," in cockney.
"'ey, ye be lookin' fer a date…?" she asked, and Loki thought it odd that she wasn't intoxicated. "I can give ye a good price."
Loki shook his head, and went back to his ale.
"Dis 'uns a right snob," she exclaimed, smacking him on his back.
He coughed, and ignored it.
"Dis chap botherin' ye, Annie?" a male voice came.
Loki spilled his pockets out with some coins for the ale and turned to leave. He went out the door hearing the yells of those within in his wake.
He didn't need a fight…he thought he'd just head back home.
To his empty house. Alone.
It was all right…he was quite content with the state of things. He didn't mind being a bachelor, even though he was approaching thirty four and his brother had been married for seven years.
He enjoyed a freedom married men didn't. What married man could wander the streets at four am without the dread of coming home to an angry wife?
Not one.
Of course, he reminded himself, one of the only reasons he was doing this was for a woman. Well, he was rather repulsed by the whole business, too. He was fearful for Jane. And himself. And Fandral. They worked in the thick of it all daily.
He opened the door to his flat.
The twenty minute walk to his home never felt so long. He slumped in his favorite chair and kicked off his boots.
Jane. He was doing this for Jane.
What was the matter with him?
She had always been a bit of fun to talk with…joke with. She was quick and bright and…
…he sighed. And she was lovely.
He rested his face in the palm of his hand and dozed slightly.
He cared about her, he supposed. He was attracted to her, too. They were good friends…he ticked these things off.
He suddenly sat up straight in the chair. Then covered his face with his hands after he squinted and sighed…
Fandral would never let him hear the end of it. He would need to tread very, very lightly.
Detective Selvig was wandering the area of Whitechapel. It was five forty five am, and he had been patrolling for only fifteen minutes.
A man came running from a building on Hanbury Street…he was in a state.
Saturday mornings were always fairly relaxed in Algate. There was a much smaller market, some of the less successful purveyors would open their carts to receive the benefit of a few day laborers doing some Saturday morning shopping.
Jane never bothered with it. She would sleep in a bit, then head to her own shop later…round about ten or eleven am.
She set out on her way, and noticed that despite the hour, the sky seemed a bit dark.
There was a group of people at the end of the block standing about, muttering to themselves. She looked sideways at them, then, pulling her wrap closer, picked up the pace toward Spitalfields.
Oh no…no no no…a sense of foreboding descended upon her…
"She was seen 'round 'bout four. Down at da Ten Bells…Mista Odinson saw 'er…"
She stopped and looked at the group on Whitechapel Road, and approached the woman who had said this.
"Pardon me. Did you say that Mister Odinson had seen her?"
"'at's righ'. Da one 'o owns da book shop."
Panic filled her. She turned quickly and began to run to the Market.
What did this mean?
Was Loki in trouble?
Was he hurt?
Was he…?
No. She wouldn't consider that. Besides, the woman she had just spoke with would have been much more suspicious of Jane had Loki been hurt or anything…
Her brow pearled sweat from the run and the slowly warming air…her heart pounded with her feet on the stone.
Jane saw the Market, saw the throng…
…another murder. She was certain of it…
And she suddenly couldn't feel her legs. Where was Loki…she scanned the crowd. Nothing. She turned, looking all about…
He wasn't there.
She willed her legs to carry her to the center of the Market.
And she saw Detective Selvig. Jane's mouth was dry, her hands shaking…she made her way as best she could over to him, brushing passed the thick crowd gathered along the periphery of the market.
"Detective Inspector…" she heaved, taking his sleeve.
"Oh!" he said, turning. "Miss Foster! I was just asking about you…"
She swallowed…and a plethora of notions filled her mind…
…he was asking about her because he knew that she and Loki were friends and he needed to speak with her about him because he was hurt…because he was taken in for questioning…because he was…
Jane closed her eyes.
"Miss Foster…"
"Jane," she croaked.
"Are you unwell?"
"I'm overwrought…overheated…water…" and she stumbled, still holding onto Selvig's sleeve.
"Elton! Come quickly!"
And the next thing she knew, she was being carried away.
"Down….please put me down…I need…"
"Hush, Miss. We are taking you to the book shop."
Book shop. Asgard…and tears welled…
She heard the door open, and the cool interior enveloped her. She opened her eyes as she was lowered…
"Jane!" came a voice.
Loki's voice.
"Loki?" And lo, there he was, kneeling before her…he swam into focus. "Loki!" she exclaimed, and threw her arms around his neck. "Oh! I thought…I had thought…!"
"What is the matter, Jane? Why were you being carried?" he pulled away from her.
"She's in a state, Mr Odinson. She needs some water," said Selvig.
Loki examined her face, aiding her back into the chair. He handed her the water brought by another officer, and pulled a chair for himself in front of her. "Tell me what happened."
She shook her head and downed the water. "I was being silly," she laughed. Then, remembering herself, looked around. There were four officers in Asgard besides Selvig. "What is going on here?"
Loki sighed rather heavily. "Inspector, might you ask your officers, save perhaps Elton, to excuse us?" he was looking at the floor.
Erik told them to leave, leaving Loki, Jane, Officer Elton, and Selvig in the shop.
Jane's eyes were wide, and she was looking around with a hint of worry. She licked her lips. as they were quite dry…"Loki?"
He cleared his throat and stood. "Well, Jane. You have missed quite a morning. There was another murder, as you might have deduced," he shoved his hands in his pockets, and walked to behind the counter. "Poor Annie Chapman was found a few hours ago in the back garden of 29 Hanbury Street."
"Hanbury…? That's just…"
"About five minutes from here, yes. But, you might be wondering why I am being questioned."
"Well…"
Loki nodded. "I was approached by Miss Chapman less than two hours before her murder."
"What?! But…" Jane stood now. She looked at the other two officers…confused.
"I'll explain in a moment, Jane," he nodded. Then he turned to Selvig. "Are we finished here, Detective?"
"I think so. You will be in the area, should we have any…"
"Further questions, yes," and he began walking them out. They left, and Loki shut the door, sighing.
Jane stood there, attempting to collect herself as best she could. She had no idea what he was about to say.
Did he go out after leaving her, looking for…sexual favors?
She would say nothing of it, as it was none of her business.
"Loki…"
He turned, and smiled at her with a good bit of embarrassment laced in his grin. "Jane." He went to the back and obtained some brew…his recent realization peppering his thoughts…he would ignore it. Ignore it, and everything would be all right.
His heart was beating very fast, hammering his ears…
…and he went back out.
He handed Jane a mug. "Sit down, Jane."
She sat, swallowing, barely cognizant of the mug she held. Something was very not right.
"So…last evening, after I left you, I decided to walk about…perhaps ask some more questions…"
"You did? Do you do this often?"
"No. Never," he sat now, and rubbed his hands on his legs, placing the mug on the counter. "Now, I was not enjoying much success. I decided that I would stop at the Ten Bells for an ale. Poor Miss Chapman was there…and she…offered me her services. She was there with a group, a small one, mind. I declined her offer, and she and another man followed me a bit, in quite a state. That was what I was speaking to Scotland Yard about."
"Oh," Jane responded, quite stupidly, she thought.
He smiled at her. "Oh? That is what our investigator thinks about this turn? There was another murder, Jane."
She closed her eyes, nodding. "I know…I just…all I could think was…" she stuttered a breath. "…what if something had happened to you?" and her eyes found his, wet with emotion.
Loki swallowed…ignore it ignore it…"There is something else of particular interest about this latest atrocity."
Jane swallowed. "Indeed?"
"Part of her uterus was missing."