Closer to the Heart

Not unlike ivy on the house they laid in, their limbs intertwined and nearly fused with the very mortar of their cells. They moved, she groaned, he stirred, as one…the chink of light slipping through the sparse curtain, not really shielding anything from anyone, had made its way to the head of the bed.

She untangled herself, and he moved closer to her, kissing her temple.

She smiled.

"Mornin', she said with a raspy voice.

"Morning, lovely," Fandral said.

She laughed and got up. "Ye be too sentimental, Fandral Adamson…"

"And what if I was?" he pulled the blanket up around him.

"Nuthun'," said Mary. "But ye need ta allow me ta go an' get me doss. I can' be takin' yer money."

"What's the difference if I give it to you or you get it from some bloke on the street?"

Mary went over to him and sat on the bed next to him. "The difference bein'…ye be thinkin' 'ders more ta dis dan der is."

"I know what this is, Mary."

"Na, ya don'," she placed her palm alongside his face. "Ya be a romantic…yer 'ead in dem books. See t'aint' nuthun romantic 'bout life."

"There is if you love someone."

"Ya see?" and she stood.

"What. What is so awful about love?"

She shook her head, and went to the bathroom outside of her flat, leaving him there.

Fandral swallowed. He should propose to her. End this charade. Commit to her in a way that proved to her that he loved her.

For he did, he knew he did, he always had…and she knew it too…he could provide something of a life for her.

He got up and began to clothe himself,

Mary reentered the room. "Still 'ere, are ya?" she laughed.

"Mary…" he began, not really looking at her.

"Hm?" and she fiddled with her hair.

Fandral swallowed. "Never mind," and he went over, wrapped his arms around her waist, and kissed the back of her head softly.

"We should go," Jane said, not really seeing or hearing or feeling anything at all.

Loki nodded, the place had begun to fill. It was five in the evening now, and the first of the laborers were getting off work.

They got up, Jane a bit unsteadily, and left The Ten Bells.

"Are you all right?" he asked as they walked across the market square.

"No," Jane replied.

"Should I not have said anything to you?" he swallowed.

"No no. You were right," Jane wouldn't say that her mood was mostly enhanced by her having kissed him.

She needed to figure this whole thing out.

They walked a bit more, and Loki shoved his hands in his pockets…deep in thought. "Jane, I understand that things are a bit confused with what we are attempting to do here…but I think…" he took a steadying breath. He couldn't believe what he was about to say. "I think that we should really concentrate on the task at hand without adding the complicated issue of…erm…frequent passionate embraces…?" whatever that meant.

Jane looked at him.

What was he saying? He didn't want to kiss her? He didn't like kissing her? She was a rubbish kisser?

…he felt something, too, and was confused by it all…?

"You don't want me to kiss you anymore, is that it?" but she was playful.

"Ah…well…the thing is, Jane…" I have these warm feelings and I'm confused and I think I know just how very deep they are but I am terrified of rejection and I cannot bear the thought of losing what we already have if and when you reject me so while I want nothing more for us to continue kissing - and perhaps a bit more. All right, a lot more - I'm not certain that I can truly handle it. "While it's all lovely," he looked at her meaningfully. "I believe that it confuses things. It's a bit…distracting."

Jane blushed. She was horrified. He thought that she was either throwing herself at him or he was completely turned off by her. "I'm sorry, Loki. I truly am. I had no intention of distracting you or the purpose of our alignment."

They left Whitechapel proper.

"Jane, look. I hope that you realize that the only reason I agreed to this at the outset was to ensure your safety."

"And what is your reason now?"

"Well, it's complicated…"

And it was…he wanted to ensure her safety.

He wanted to catch the killer.

He wanted to be near her…

And he felt all of these things in almost equal measure, for they were bound and threaded and depended on one another.

"You're a smart man, Loki Odinson. Try to explain to me," Jane said as they entered Algate.

He swallowed. "I…want…wish…to see this monster hanged. I believe that we all of us are in constant, imminent danger. Sometimes even without a maniacal killer on the loose," they approached her street and turned. "So, in that light, I am both ensuring your safety, as well as my own, and Fandral's. As well as doing my part for the community at large. But there is more still…"

Her house now.

Jane stopped and turned toward him, looking up at him eagerly.

Loki's hands were still in his pockets. He was staring at the ground.

"Jane…I care about you as much, if not more, as I have for anyone I have ever known. These past two months have afforded me a friendship I never knew I could have," now he looked at her. "As I have said, I am not a well-liked man. And I'm truly fine with that. However," and he took a step nearer to her. "If anything were to happen to you, I truly believe that I would not recover. So I must needs stay near you…you are nearly all I have. So, in order to ensure that we stay on task, I think it prudent that this…" he bent down and kissed her cheek softly, but lingered a touch, and without pulling away, whispered in her ear. "…is as close as we should get," and then he pulled away from her.

Her eyes were closed. She wasn't breathing.

…and when she opened her eyes, she found Loki looking at her fixedly.

She nodded. "I see your point."

"Good," he smiled. "Tomorrow?"

She swallowed. "MmHm. Yes. Good night, Loki," she turned and went up the stairs. She didn't look back…she couldn't. Not after such a display.

Jane took off her wrap, her hat. "Hello father. I'm rather tired. Heading to bed now," she said without inflection from the hall.

"Don't you want dinner? Darcy left some…" Doctor Foster emerged from the doorway of the sitting room, a confused look about him.

But she was already making her way upstairs. "Not hungry," she called back. And she wasn't. She was feeling the lingering after effects of the alcohol still…

Jane laid down on her tiny bed, folded her hands across her stomach, and smiled.

What a day!

Though she knew that she should be simultaneously horrified and excited about the "From Hell" letter…horrified that a kidney was mailed to poor George Lusk, excited because the killer was that much closer to being caught…she could think only of one thing.

Loki.

She had kissed him.

He had admitted a strong attachment to her. And then kissed her sweetly…

…it was the single most romantic thing she had ever experienced.

Romantic! She smiled, she blushed, and turned on her side…she, Jane Foster, being moved by romance! Absurd.

And yet…

She had discovered her own fancy for him not so long ago. Why shouldn't she be moved romantically?

"…as close as we should get…"

She sat up. Did he mean permanently? Surely not…surely he meant only while they were working on solving this thing.

And what did that mean? Did Jane want to pursue a romance with him? She, now in her early thirties, determined to care for her father and work at the shop…was she wanting a man in her life in that capacity?

She had dismissed it before when she felt the inclination creep in her mind.

But now…

She smiled, almost giggled. To think! Loki, who had always bothered her beyond measure! Was that nothing more than a flirtatious dance they were engaged in all the while?

She took her pillow and hugged it fiercely, falling to her side.

How blind you are, Jane Foster!

And the alcohol pressed its lips to her cells, ticking her mind, nudging her heart, filling her dreams…

…and she'd wake with a newfound understanding of her regard for the owner of Asgard.

He entered his flat and stood there a moment.

He would not allow himself…

…he could not hope to want.

But oh! how he wanted…

Never in his life had he wanted so badly. He could still taste her, feel her lips against his, her tongue…her hands…

She had very slowly, and yet with lightening fast speed, become his everything.

And the question he knew the answer to, the question he asked himself in moments of both quiet and chaos filled his mind. Did he, then…?

He did.

Though he could not bear to say it…though he had known now for many weeks hence, he could not think the word…

It somehow made it real.

Loki went and sat in his chair, rubbed his face, and sighed deeply.

She had to care about him. She simply had to.

…and his mind drifted…he fancied it was morning…

He closed his eyes, sat back, and allowed himself to slip into reverie…

"Loki?" her voice came from next to him. She was wrapped around him, and her mouth was close to his ear.

"Hm?" he said through morning's haze.

"Wake up, love."

He stretched and turned toward her…his wife…as lovely as anything, and surprisingly naked. "Jane…the children!" he covered her.

"They are long at school, husband. Come now, would you believe me to be so unthinking as that?" she nuzzled his neck.

And he felt himself stir. "No, indeed. But you are a vixen, are you not?" he turned her to her back, savoring the sight of her.

And they made love…

He wouldn't allow himself the details. It would likely undo him utterly.

The pain of not knowing her heart was acute. He believed that there was something there. He had to.

But he would never admit to himself that his own heart was dependent on her rejoinder…which is why he kept avoiding it, even in his own mind.

Silly sentimental tendencies!

He sighed and went to bed…

…and dreamt of the Apothecary and her many (many) charms.

"Morning, Fandral," said the bookshop owner from behind the counter.

"Boss," returned the clerk, and he hung up his outerwear. "How are you this morning?"

"Well enough," Loki was looking at a piece of paper.

"What's that?"

"A letter from my brother," he returned, and stood.

"From Thor?"

"Yes. You are quick, Fandral. How did you reach that conclusion? Seeing as how I have but one brother."

Fandral rolled his eyes. "What is he writing you for?" he went to the back and brewed some tea.

"For the case," he replied, and went to open the front door. He did so, then realized it was much too cold for that. He closed it again.

"You aren't a detective, Loki," he handed him a cup.

"Thank you. I'm so fortunate to have you lurking abut reminding me of my job in life. Do be sure to stop me before I wander into Buckingham Palace," he rolled his eyes and went to the back.

"I simply don't want you or Jane to get hurt."

"It is my personal mission to ensure her safety," he said, returning.

Fandral looked at him crookedly. "Loki…please, for the love of god, tell Jane that you love her."

He began to protest. "I wish you'd mind your business."

"This is my business! You have made it my business!"

"I see," he paused. "Tell me, what of Mary?"

"Excuse me?"

Loki laughed a touch. "No, I don't think I will. Does Mary know that you love her?"

Fandral shifted. He sat behind the counter and downed his tea. "I don't know what you mean."

"No. Well, shall we employ that irritating adage, black kettle something or other?"

"So you admit it!" he pointed at him.

"Only insofar as you are admitting anything," he smirked, and returned to the back, retrieving his coat.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm off to catch a ripper," replied Loki.

He laughed. "No…I'm serious."

"As am I. I am visiting Selvig, as he has become woefully negligent in his promise to visit in the mornings…so…I shall visit him."

"Is Selvig the ripper?" breathed Fandral.

Loki stared at him. "Yes. And I am the Queen of England," and he left.

"Well. That would explain a lot," said Fandral. "Poor Erik Selvig."

Loki went to the Yard with purpose and poise. He was not certain of the list he had been assigned, in fact, he was fairly confident that none of them were the man they were looking for.

So, he was off to see if Selvig had any luck in this regard.

In he walked, and was greeted forthwith by an angry looking fellow. "And 'o might you be?"

He felt as though the officers asked him this question a bit too frequently. "Loki Odinson. I'm here to see Detective Inspector Selvig."

He surveyed him with narrow eyes. "''e's in his office."

"Thank you," and he went off.

He disliked the Yard. It smelled off and was unnecessarily dark. He went to Selvig's office and rapped on the door.

"Come in," called Erik.

Loki went in, and sat across from him with a flounce. "You have been neglecting your end of the bargain, my man."

"I've been rather busy, Loki. You know, kidneys in the post and such."

He ignored this. "Have you looked at your list at all?"

"I have, yes. And nothing struck me as peculiar."

"Nor mine. I wonder about Jane's."

Erik looked at him crookedly. "You mean, you don't know?" he smiled.

"No. I don't know," he rolled his eyes. "I'm not her husband, recall?"

"Not yet," Selvig sat back in his chair.

"Erik, are you being purposefully impossible, or is it simply the nature of an officer to drive one mad?"

"Both, I think."

Loki smirked and sighed. "I was going to visit with her, and thought that you might like to accompany me."

"Oh! Are you certain that you don't want her all to yourself?" he stood.

No. I'm quite sure that I do, which is why I think I should have a chaperone. "I don't know what you mean," and he stood now. "Shall we?"

"After you," and Erik opened the door for him.

Jane was scrubbing the floor of the apothecary as though she held a personal vendetta against it. She had enjoyed some success with her names, and was biding her time, waiting for either Loki or Erik to show.

Or both.

But mostly Loki.

Her hair was falling from her bun at the base of her neck, and she had broken into a sweat. The streets were still not fully recovered from the double murder or the From Hell letter, so business was rather slow.

She hoped that she'd be able to act natural around him…

And now was her chance to test it, she realized, as the bell rang.

Jane stood from being on all fours and wiped her brow with the back of her hand. She turned, and faced Erik…and Loki.

She smiled, blushed…"Hello," she said awkwardly.

Selvig immediately noticed the change in the air, and cleared his throat. This was uncomfortable. "Miss Foster," he nodded. "Any luck with your names?"

"I've…" she stole a glance at Loki, who was swallowing and looking at the floor. "I…ah…" she laughed a touch. "Names. No…I mean yes. Yes…I've eliminated the first two," she smiled at Erik, looked once more at Loki, then at her feet. "You?"

"None of mine appear to be at all suspicious," he looked to his left. "Loki?"

He jumped a touch. "No. Thor wrote…he knows them all. None were doing medical research."

Selvig nodded. "Well, that's that," he said, and turned to leave.

"You're leaving?" Jane said in a hurry.

Loki's eyes snapped to her.

"I mean…" she smiled. "I have tea in the back…"

"No, I thank'ee. I best be going," and he rushed from the place. Those two had better figure themselves out, thought he.

Jane cleared her throat and stole a glance at Loki. She went to the back to start the tea and steady herself.

Calm down, Jane Foster. It's just Loki.

"Tea, Loki?" she called, her voice cracking a bit. She winced at the sound.

"Yes please," he sat on the fainting couch. He had better just get used to her presence…even after all that transpired the day previous. "How has your day been?" he called.

Jane returned with two cups. "Good, I thank'ee. Not terribly busy," and she sat across from him in her chair. "Just two names left, Loki."

"Mm. It'll be the last one we research," he smiled.

"Do you think that we have the motive?"

"Yes, I think so…but I've been wrong before."

"You?" she breathed dramatically.

"Well, it has been known to happen," he smirked. "Albeit not terribly often…" he paused. "Once. I recall being wrong once."

Jane laughed. "I don't believe it."

"'Tis true…and I vowed to never do that again," he returned her laugh. And an uncomfortable silence fell…and he thought about going to her, kissing her madly, tearing her bodice in two…"Well, shall we attempt another go tomorrow evening?"

Jane looked at him in shock…did he mean…? "Pardon?"

Loki furrowed his brow. "I meant, shall we attempt to walk again for a bit tomorrow evening?" what did she think he meant?

"Oh. Oh," she smiled and blushed. "Yes. That sounds good."

He nodded. "Will you stay open much longer, Jane?"

"No," she sighed, slouching back in her chair. "Business has been dreadfully slow."

He nodded. "Shall I see you home, then?"

"Lovely," she said softly and saw to tidying up. It was early yet, and she thought it might be nice to have dinner with her father for once.

After a short while, Jane finished, and retrieved her wrap and her hat, and locked the door behind them.

It was nearly the end of October. The chill was fixed, and there was a thought that the murders might indeed be over.

"About last evening, Jane…" he began.

"Shh…" she said. "Think nothing of it," she smiled.

"I only don't want there to be any discomfort between us," he said.

"I know. And we will fall into ease once more."

He nodded. "Jane?"

"Hm?" she looked at him.

"Thank you."

"What for?" she smiled.

"For being you…"

Jane's eyes welled…he hadn't looked at her once during the whole of his speech. She turned and stared at the ground as they walked. "I can't help it, Loki. You bring out the best in me."

…the peace of the moment was a soothing potation, a needed elixir, a remedy, for neither knew how dark the days were about to become…despite the falling sun.