A Discovery, a Lie, and a Sneak

Loki had always known his brother to be a bit of a womanizer. Yet everyone loved him.

It drove him mad.

There was nothing about Thor which vexed him in particular; he was a good enough sort. But the fact that everyone loved him so was what both enraged and confused him. He was a handsome man, not even Loki could deny it. He was amiable, sometimes amusing, not altogether dull, had some knowledge, and was helpful. Usually.

These were all good enough traits for any man…but none warranted the fierce adoration they inspired in those around him.

Loki loved Thor.

He also loathed him.

Now, Thor, as was stated, loved the ladies. He enjoyed many, many lovers, and was not shy about proclaiming it.

But it was one lady in particular which caused a fissure in the Odinson family, never to fully be mended.

Lady Sif was from a wealthy family. She was, to her family's disappointment, headstrong and willful. Sif had caught Loki's eye when the Odinson's were away from London one summer, and he engaged her in conversation.

He found her to be a pleasant enough lady.

They took walks, they laughed…and though Loki was not taken, as such, he certainly enjoyed her company.

Around the same time, the patriarch, Odin, was handing off some land to Thor. This gave Loki pause, for he couldn't believe that his father would be so unfair as to deny Loki land.

He had forgotten how he had irritated Odin. How he had defied him blatantly on more than one occasion.

Loki thought he was being playful. Odin thought he was being a shameless brat.

It was round about this time that Loki discovered Sif in the arms of Thor, on their veranda, in the moonlight.

And though his heart was not quite broken, and though his anger was more at himself for having any reaction at all, he reacted, and badly.

So it was that Odin approached Loki with Asgard, thinking that his younger son needed some time away from this mess. Though it was unclear how Loki was in such a severe state; no one had any idea that Loki fancied Sif.

If there was any feeling on Loki's part, he hardly showed it, nor did he feel it deeply. It was the principle. Thor was taking many lands, and now he was taking Sif.

He was bitter.

Loki arrived in London at his nice enough flat with the title, "entrepreneur," not knowing what he was doing, really.

He was angry at Sif for falling for Thor's advances, when he had intimated to her what he was.

He was angry at Odin for banishing him to a ridiculous station.

Angry at Frigga, his mother, for not stopping any of it.

And angry at himself for both putting himself in this situation, and for, after a time, not really minding.

He found he was good at his job.

And he was pleased, overall, with how it turned out.

That didn't mean that he was unaffected, nor that he was happy per se. Only that he was no longer as hurt.

It was also fortuitous that he discovered the apothecary and her charms a few years after taking over Asgard.

That made the whole of it much more palpable.

Never, in all of his life, did he think that "Part of her uterus was missing," would ever be among the phrases he would utter.

But he did, and he waited for Jane to react.

She was already in a state, perhaps he should have taken more care in his proclamation. "Jane?"

She snapped out if it. "Hm? Yes?"

"Did you hear me?"

"I did." He nodded, then cleared his throat and sat across from her. The air was rather thick, and the hum of the throng was buzzing just outside. There were small rays of light slipping through insistently around the closed windows, and Jane was staring at one. "You need to clean in here, Loki," and she looked at him. "I can see the dust in the light just there," she smiled.

He smiled. "I'll tend to it momentarily, Miss Foster…however, I would like to hear your thoughts on this development before I commit to any housecleaning."

"Thoughts?" she couldn't think. Nothing was sufficient. A woman had been disemboweled mere yards from where she sat. And…it could have been her. "Well, I suppose I think that this is awful. That I feel ill from it. And that we…" what? And a thought struck her. "We need to discover who that American was who was looking for organs."

Loki nodded, then sat back. "Do you think, then, that that is the motive?"

She stood. "Well, if the scientist was looking for a uterus, maybe."

Now he rose. "But what if he wasn't, and the killer merely didn't know what a uterus looked like, so he took the first possible organ? What if he is merely cunning, not intelligent, in human anatomy?"

"I don't know," she replied, a bit exasperated. "But it's a start."

"Do we need to, do you think, to remain incognito?" he leaned forward, hands in pockets.

Jane's eyes squinted a bit in thought. "Yes…though I think that we should be a bit more persistent with Selvig. He could, theoretically, be a wealth of information."

"Or, he could be a massive waste of time if the authorities are as inept as we believe."

Jane sighed. "What would you have us do? We need to keep abreast of what they are doing…" she stopped, and turned away, walking to the back of the chair she had sat at, and placed her hands on its back. "And you are the one who insisted that we…what was it? Work alongside, not against the police?"

"I did, as you observed, say that," and now Loki went to the back of the shop. He procured more brew, and went back over to Jane, handing her a mug again. "However, given the current state of events, it might be prudent to operate more independently," he downed the refreshment, then looked at her. "What?"

Her mouth was agape, she had not sat down. "Now you want to work independently? Now, when a woman's uterus is missing? You are impossible," she waved her arms, then sat once more. "How do you propose we begin this?"

"I propose the same thing we have been doing. But perhaps not make any effort to alert the authorities until we have some sort of concrete proof."

"Of?"

He smiled at her. "Motive."

The atmosphere that Saturday in Whitechapel was one of decided unease. There was a steady sun, and the heat mixed with the scents created a sickly sweet aroma. There was rain at night the previous two evenings, and the wash the rain provided was short lived. There was soot and grey pervading the tableau quite quickly.

Jane and Loki did not venture out Saturday or Sunday. She opted not to see him after she closed the shop Saturday afternoon, only having opened for a few hours. She wanted to get home to her father, since Darcy always left a bit early Saturday's.

She bustled in with a few parcels and shouted, "Evening, father!"

"Jane! Come in," he was sitting by the fire.

She went over and kissed his cheek.

"How is your partner?"

She laughed. "You mean Loki?" and she went to the small kitchen and began to cook the stew. "He's fine. I haven't seen him since this morning. I think that he closed the shop up early, too."

"Indeed?" he called from the sitting room. "He keeps odd hours. What do you think of him, Jane?"

"Think?" Jane returned with a soother, and handed it to her father.

"You spend a good deal of time with him, is that not so?"

"Well," she sat across from him. "Yes…I suppose."

"But it was his brother you once fancied."

Jane lowered her eyes. "I didn't fancy him, father. I hardly knew him."

"You fancied him, don't be silly."

"I…" she paused. "I had built him up," she admitted.

"So then you fancied the fellow you thought him to be," he observed, sitting back and sipping.

Jane shrugged and sat. "I…suppose so. He was always very happy…"

"While Loki is taciturn and sullen."

"…blonde and blithe…"

"Loki is dark and thoughtful…"

"But rather preoccupied with his own affairs."

"Loki pays you a visit a few times a week, is that not so?"

"It is," Jane paused. "To what do these comparisons tend, father?"

"I'm merely attempting a very crude sketch of the Odinson fellows. Their father was an interesting man, and it appears that he sired equally interesting offspring."

"I don't know what you mean," Jane replied smilingly.

"Well, he has two sons which have captured my daughter's imagination. I'd say that's interesting," and Dr Foster rose and went to the garden. Since it was well before dinner, he thought he may as well see to it. It wasn't much, being in the heart of London, but it was his.

Jane swallowed. She thought about how wretched she felt when she was concerned for Loki earlier that day.

She had always dismissed him as a rather obnoxious puppy. Irritating, to be sure, but in need of attention, and one didn't mind offering the poor sod some of your eye, for he was good enough. Sometimes charming.

And, in his own way, adorable.

She sighed.

She cared for Loki. He was, as she had ruminated on many times, a good friend.

Jane never realized just how much of a friend he really was until all of this business began.

She stood and went to begin the arduous task of preparing dinner.

Monday morning dawned cold, the first of its kind since spring.

Jane wrapped herself up tight and started her walk toward Spitalfield Market, taking note of the decided lack of merchants and customers on the streets.

The outdoor markets were, as is to be expected, very sparse in the winter months, and Jane often wondered just how the purveyors were able to support themselves from December through March. That isn't to say that there were none, but they were careful to keep certain hours, and their goods were scant.

It felt like December that morning of the eleventh. It was still and wan. Nary a soul was about, and those who were, chatted in small, tight groups, huddled in fear and apprehension.

Jane side-eyed them all, nodding to a few.

She wondered if Selvig would be about that day, considering recent events and the fact that the police were most assuredly investigating. It had been the most gruesome yet.

Jane entered the apothecary and began her tasks to ready the shop.

She wiped the counters, started the tea in the back, and propped the door open.

It was then that she saw Selvig walking toward her shop.

"Morning, Miss Foster," said he, entering.

"Jane," and she closed the door, switching the sign back to 'Closed.'

"I've already seen Mr Odinson…"

And she looked over toward the book shop through the window; it too, shut up. "Where is Loki?"

"He told me," and Selvig leaned against the counter. "That he was taking the train to his father's house, that he'd be back late this evening."

"Oh," she nodded.

"Miss Foster," he continued.

Jane went to the back. "Do please call me Jane," she called out, pouring tea. She was preparing herself. She knew that Loki and Odin did not get on well, and the fact that he was visiting him, unplanned, was disconcerting. She went back out to the shop and handed him a cup.

"Thank'ee," he said, and sipped. "It's been quite a couple of days."

"I imagine," she pulled two chairs to the center of the room. "What news?"

"Well," and he sat. "Not much. There were a few suspects brought in in the aftermath. However, none of them were that promising. There was talk at the Yard about asking for a reward in return for the culprit. That was an idea many of the officers liked. We are waiting for the Home Office to respond."

Jane nodded. "Anything regarding the…" how should she put it? "Erm…the American scientist?"

"How do you know about that?" he eyed her suspiciously. "Miss Foster, if we are to be working together on this, you'll need to be more forthright."

"I had heard about him from a third party source. It was nothing, really…" Damn. She wondered if Loki would be cross with her about this…they hadn't really discussed how much information they'd be sharing with anyone, including Selvig.

"Well, no," Selvig said. "No…we haven't been able to follow up, really, as we don't have his name."

Her eyes fell to the floor. It was impossible, really. How were they to discover him with only two remarkable characteristics…American and scientist? "Right," she said. Her heart fell. Jane wasn't convinced, necessarily, that this was the motive. But it was the only one they had come up with, and it seemed plausible enough.

Or perhaps she had merely convinced herself that it was plausible, and it was, in actuality, ludicrous.

"Don't fret, Miss Foster," he said reassuringly. "Now, I come this morning to talk about that reward that the Yard is requesting from the Home Office."

"Reward?" Jane was a bit shocked. "Oh, yes. It must not be terribly enticing for the Home Office." Rewards were hardly ever given out. Her Majesty didn't seem to believe in them.

"That's right," he drank the rest of his tea. "But the Yard is being insistent, and should the answer be 'no,' I have a list drawn for people who can be approached for a donation to the cause."

"Oh? Who cares about Whitechapel prostitutes, Detective?"

"Why, Mr Odinson does."

And then it hit her, why Loki had gone to his father. He was asking him to front some monty. "That's why he's gone to his father…"

"Just so," and he stood. "I'll be patrolling every night this week, ten to three. Will you be…?" he trailed off.

"Oh!" she was snapped from her thoughts. "Yes, I believe so. Though probably not this evening," Jane stood, and shook Selvig's hand. "Thank'ee, Detective Inspector. For everything."

He nodded. "Can't say that I agree with what the two of you are doing…but I admire you for it."

She smiled, shrugged, and opened the door. "Someone has to…" she whispered softly.

The day passed dull enough, as many people stayed well away from the Markets. There was a persistent unease, and Jane only saw a handful of her regulars.

She closed the shop early, after having opened late, and wondered if she'd ever have a regular schedule again.

Down toward Whitechapel she went, looking at every lone man with a suspicious eye. She pulled her drab wrap close. The chill was unrelenting…she thought that she might purchase a new one, except that the one she was wearing was her mother's, and she couldn't abandon it. The guilt was simply too great.

Into Algate she went, and up her stairs. "Father!" she called out.

"Jane! In here!" he was calling from the kitchen, and Jane took her hat and wrap off.

"Rather dull day," she called out. "No one about…just Mrs Turner and her…" she went to the kitchen and found her father sitting at the tiny table in there with Loki.

He smiled at her. "It is a pity," he began. "That there was little in terms of amusement for you, Jane. I reckon it was my absence which rendered it so very dull. But do, tell us of Mrs Turner and her arthritis. She no doubt was an amusing addition to your day."

"Loki!" Jane smiled and went over to him, taking his hand. "It is very good to see you."

"Loki here was just telling me about some of your customers, daughter."

"Indeed?" she dropped his hand. "And what does he know of my customers?" she stirred the soup and tasted it.

It needed more salt.

"Only that they are all dependent upon you and your good nature," Loki sat. "Dr Foster was much the same way. Work all day, bustling about, and nothing to show for the end of the day save some sore feet."

Jane laughed…"Defend me from his ridicule, father."

"Well, I'll never mind a good heart, Jane. But a heart won't salt the soup," he smiled and left.

"That didn't make any sense," Jane said, shaking her head. And she paused, thoughtful…she wanted to ask Loki about his father. "What brings you here? I cannot recall the last time you darkened our doorstep…you always leave me to enter alone," Jane sat across from him.

"No…I do not wish to infringe on sacred father daughter time…I have you most of the day," he said without thinking. There was simply no question of his "having" her in any manner. She wasn't his, nor was she likely to ever be.

"You think too much of it. Father is often asleep when I get home."

Loki nodded. "I went to call on my own father today, Jane."

"Did you?"

"I asked him to contribute to Scotland Yard's offer of a reward, should they submit one."

Jane's eyes went wide. "And what did he say?"

"Well, he said…that even if they don't, he will put forth five hundred pounds."

Her hands went to her mouth, she was overcome. "Oh, Loki! That is wonderful news!"

He smiled. "I hope it is, Jane Foster," and he dropped his gaze with he knowledge that Odin had committed to fifty, and he would be fronting the rest.