I hope you enjoy. And...read carefully. ;-)
/
Beneath
Chapter Eight – Resolve
Jane did not see her assistant-slash-spy again until she was seated in a business class lounge at Sydney's airport trying to squish the small plush stuffed koala bear she'd bought with her last Australian dollars into her laptop carrier. She took a deep breath and tried to prepare herself for another awkward conversation.
"Good morning, Dr. Foster," he said, dropping into an armchair across from her. He apparently viewed flying as a formal occasion, she thought, briefly noting his gray-on-white seersucker suit, the whole nine yards with slacks, vest, and jacket, over a white dress shirt and a forest green tie.
"Good morning, Mr. Cane," she answered, the words sounding stilted and false. Not too many people called her doctor, and she wasn't in the habit of calling men somewhere around her own age mister.
"I trust you enjoyed the rest of your afternoon?" He draped one long leg elegantly over the other.
"Yeah, it was nice. I went for a walk. And you?"
"I climbed the bridge," he answered with an enthusiastic smile and nod. "The views were marvelous. Then I wandered around for a while, and when it got dark I went over to the Sydney Tower…the Tower Eye I believe it's called. Beautiful clear skies last night. You're wearing some of what I saw."
What is that supposed to mean? she thought, the unspoken reaction clear on her face.
He pointed at her chest.
Her eyebrows somehow made it up higher. She glanced down…at the Australian flag with the Southern Cross emblazoned on her blue T-shirt. She picked up her cup of cooling espresso and took a drink. "It's just…you know, it's the flag." She didn't view flying as a formal occasion.
He laughed at her. "I know."
She smiled awkwardly, briefly widened her eyes, and buried her face in her coffee cup again.
He absently rubbed his upper lip, rapidly evaluating his options for how best to restart the conversation and guide it somewhere constructive. "Was it your first chance to see it, too? The Southern Cross, I mean." He'd had a better-than-expected lager at a pub after she'd returned to her hotel and taken the opportunity to ask questions, including about those stars she'd pointed to in the sky with such an imbecilic expression on her face. The Sydney Tower Eye he'd read about in his collection of tourist brochures.
"Mm-hm," she said with a nod.
She wasn't helping at all. Talented manipulator though he was, it was difficult to direct a one-sided conversation without being blatantly obvious. He couldn't understand why this wasn't working.
Jane wondered if it was time to point apologetically to her coffee cup and excuse herself to the restroom. And stay there until boarding for her flight was announced.
"So, everything starts today, hm? I can't tell you how excited I am. But you…you seem…I don't know, sad, perhaps. Is anything wrong?"
"Hm? No…I'm not sad. I mean, I guess I'm sad to be leaving here after so short a time, but I'm really looking forward to this."
"No second thoughts, then?"
"Second thoughts?" she asked, glancing up at him then back down at the safety of the coffee to which she was devoting so much of her attention. Only the irrational ones inspired by your sudden appearance, she thought nastily.
"Sure. It's a big commitment. A long time to be away from your family."
Jane frowned into the coffee, eyes narrowing slightly. That was rather out of the blue, Mr. Cane. Exactly how much of my file did SHIELD show you? "Nothing I can't handle," she said a moment later. She looked up into his green eyes and showed him everything she felt for him at that moment with her own. "If you'll excuse me, I need to make a stop at the ladies' room." Forgetting to point to the coffee she grabbed her bag, stood up, and stomped away.
/
/
Loki sat staring at her empty chair, the Lucas Cane smile that was apparently a complete waste of his considerable efforts gone. Nothing he tried worked. He had been as friendly, as polite, as he could possibly be. He had given her the perfect opportunity to share her passion for the cosmos. Then to tell him of the loss of her family. He was prepared to share her passion as well as her sorrow. And she had inexplicably responded as though she were being provoked. As though she knew she were being manipulated.
How had Thor managed to even have a conversation with this woman? She was impossible. And Thor would not have been so polite, he suspected. Not arrogant, entitled Thor.
Another failure. Another rejection.
Perhaps she didn't like "polite." A smile spread over his face. He wasn't overly fond of it himself, not for some time, anyway. All his past politeness hadn't gained him much in the end. He longed to discard this pretense, this smiling simpleton. To restore the crispness of her memories of him, and transform himself before her eyes, filling her with terror. He would command her to kneel and she would cower on the ground like the lowly little creature she was, small even for the rest of her species. She'd had the audacity to try to make him feel inferior, and he had a thousand creative ways to return that favor. She'd put him in a position of having to prove himself, a familiar position that he now utterly rejected; most certainly he should not have to prove himself to her.
But unlike Thor, patience was one of his strengths. Revealing himself to her now would gain him absolutely nothing beyond a moment of pleasure. For now, he could wait. This was a game at which he was a master. One way or another, he would win. In time. And there would be plenty of that.
/
/
Jane stared out the window of yet another airplane, her back straight and her body tense. For the first time she didn't marvel over the perks of business class travel. An offer of champagne after boarding was expected, and accepted. Twice. She waited impatiently for her hot multi-course breakfast, then did little more than push the food around when it came. All the while, she could swear she felt Lucas Cane staring at her.
He was two rows back, on the other side of the aisle, but he was very tall and could probably see her at least partially. Who gave you the right! she raged at him. She hadn't yet put a coherent fully-formed thought together about the whole thing – just random invectives and roiling indignation that she couldn't quite put into words even in her own mind. She saw right through him. SHIELD had obviously instructed him to get close to her, and when she didn't respond to his efforts he went for the jugular. Not acceptable. She wanted to turn around in her seat and shoot more daggers at him but on the other hand she never wanted to see him again in her life.
And she was going to be seeing him every single day of her life for nine months. For the first time she unhesitatingly, without even the tiniest reservation at all, wished she had said yes to Thor's invitation. What did any of this matter in the long run anyway? Science, research, discovery, respect, career – those were fleeting, immaterial. People mattered. Friendship, love, warmth. Those mattered. But they could be fleeting, too.
Jane sighed, absently pulling at the snap on one of the pockets of her tan cargo pants. Her thoughts were seething and jumbled. She just couldn't believe SHIELD would go this far. She'd checked her e-mail the night before, and sure enough, there was the message happily informing her that they'd secured an additional position to send her an assistant. For the first time in a while, she wondered how much that organization really supported her work. Maybe they didn't want her to succeed at all. Interstellar travel had not gone very well for them ever since Thor had come to town and Loki had sent some fire-breathing metal behemoth to kill him and everything else that got in its way. Maybe she was closer to solving some of the mysteries of wormhole physics than she thought. No one had bothered her in Tromso, not that she could tell. The new guy, Merrick Rollins, had asked her a few questions, but he was clearly not a scientist and had not really understood the answers. She began to wonder if Rollins was an initial failed attempt to get her back under a watchful eye once the Chitauri attack was deemed to be truly, definitively repelled. That would make Lucas Cane an improved second try. He hadn't mentioned anything about his research focus, but he probably was a real scientist; they would have learned that lesson from Rollins. And he was no unwitting pawn, not with that pointed little comment about her family.
About an hour into the flight she finally began to calm down. She thought back to Young-Soo's words of encouragement in the face of her faltering confidence. You're in the door. It doesn't matter how you got there. Now it's up to you. Something like that. Thor wasn't here. There was no Plan B. This was the plan, and it would remain the plan. She had a golden opportunity, and she would make the most of it. No matter what.
Game on, Lucas Cane.
/
/
At Passport Control Jane gained another stamp in her passport, but she was too distracted now to enjoy it. Lucas was in the line to her right, two people still in front of him. She smiled at the woman who told her to enjoy her stay in New Zealand and made it to baggage claim as quickly as she could. Getting off the plane early though made this a hurry-up-and-wait scenario. And within a few minutes she was waiting by Lucas.
"I don't know about you but these neverending flights are growing tiresome. Not to mention the constant time zone changes," he said once he took up a position beside her at the baggage claim conveyor belt.
She nodded, tried to look thoughtful. No way was she going to even pretend to engage him in conversation now. Later she knew she wouldn't be able to avoid it, but small talk was done.
"I started out in Melfort, three days ago I think. Canada. How about you?"
Jane glanced over at him surprise. She would have expected Toronto, since that's where he went to school. So he said. The next chance she had she would be googling that claim. She had heard of Melfort, the "City of Northern Lights." "Norway," she said. She was pretty sure he already knew that.
"Norway," he repeated, nodding appreciatively, she saw out of the corner of her eye. "I've never had the pleasure. My father went there once. I've heard some of the stories of his visit."
Luckily the conveyor belt started moving before there was time for any more awkward non-conversation. As bags began tumbling out Jane started drifting away from her SHIELD sidekick, ostensibly to get a better view of the luggage. She made a show of craning her head around to see between the others who had positioned themselves more aggressively in front of the belt, not that there was much acting required. Her short stature was providing her the perfect excuse to again try to lose Lucas Cane.
And lose him she did. By some miracle her two suitcases appeared before his one. As soon as she had both she hefted them onto a cart and double-timed it toward Customs. Once past this final checkpoint she stole a glance over her shoulder and couldn't see her minder anywhere.
She stopped short when she made it through the doors into a crowd of people waiting for arrivals. Her eyes had been drawn immediately to her name on a large white card. Right under her name Lucas Cane was written. She nodded in submission to fate. Well, you should have known. What, were they going to send two different vans to pick up two people on the same flight?
"Hi, I'm Jane Foster," she said, pushing her cart over toward the curly-haired brunette holding the sign.
The two women exchanged greetings, and Alexa happily informed her they had one more passenger to pick up. They passed the time with small talk while waiting for Lucas to arrive. When at last he appeared, spotted her, and flashed her a big smile, she gave him an I'm-being-polite-but-not-really smile and began maneuvering her cart further out of the crowd. Alexa led them both out into Christchurch's heat and humidity to their shuttle, and they got on their way.
They passed open green areas and residential neighborhoods and soon turned onto a wider street that deposited them in a suburban business district and in front of a non-descript strip hotel. Jane was long past being surprised when she realized Lucas was assigned to the same hotel.
"It's not exactly four-star, but it's clean and the staff are friendly. We've got a real crunch on accommodation here because of the earthquake," Alexa was saying.
Jane nodded. She wanted to ask if it was possible to go for a walk downtown, but she refused to give Lucas any hint about what she might do with her afternoon. She shrugged off his offer of help with her bags and managed to drag them up into the hotel lobby while keeping them upright except for once when she had to get them up a short step. "Thanks," she muttered to him when he bounded forward and righted them with remarkable grace and agility.
Checked in and key in hand, Jane said her friendliest "See you tomorrow!" to Lucas as she pulled her bags behind her, back down that little step, and off to her room.
Not more than a minute after she'd gotten herself and her luggage inside her room with its neon multi-colored bedspread and little kitchenette – she'd been about to check out the bathroom – she heard a knock on her door. She pushed a suitcase out of the way to clear a path back to the door and looked out the peephole. Here we go again. This guy doesn't give up.
She tucked her hair behind her ears and opened the door. "What can I do for you, Lucas?" Translation: Did you not get the last fifty-three hints?
He stared at her with an odd grin. A little mischievous. He was standing a little too close. A little presumptuous. She felt intimidated and…and something else she couldn't quite process yet. But she realized for the first time that he was rather attractive, with skin like smooth porcelain and eyes like emeralds and hair like ebony and he was very very tall.
And then he spoke and a very very weird moment was over. "I was wondering if you'd like to go into the city. Wander around a bit and have a cup of tea or coffee. Perhaps go for a hike. It's a beautiful day."
Oh, yes. Moment over. Go for a hike? The only way he would know she liked hiking was if he had read the file SHIELD had on her. They knew everything, except apparently whether she preferred tea or coffee. "No, thanks. I'm going to keep taking advantage of the time to myself."
"All right. I thought you might say that. See you tomorrow then?"
"Right," Jane said with a nod if not much of a smile. His smile perhaps made up for her lack of one and he turned and headed off to her left. Something wasn't right, she realized as she watched him for a moment. His suitcase. What did he do with his suitcase? She shrugged and closed the door, thinking he must have already taken it to his room.
/
/
Jane jumped when she turned around in the hotel lobby and bumped right into Lucas.
"I'm terribly sorry," he said, his right palm out toward her. His jacket, which he hadn't been wearing when he stopped by her room, was back on.
"Are you following me?" she couldn't help blurting out. Maybe she needed to take a lesson from Darcy's playbook and get a taser.
"I-" Loki stopped himself. He'd been about to apologize. Again. "No, of course not. I came up here to get some tourist information. And we happen to be staying at the same hotel."
She took a steadying breath. Nine months, she reminded herself. You have to put up with this guy for nine months. "I'm sorry. You just startled me. But I meant what I said."
"What do you mean?" he asked, his brow knitted slightly.
"That I want to take advantage of the time to myself while it lasts. Okay?"
"Yes, of course." The words tumbled out quickly, earnestly, smoothly enough to repair ruffled feathers, he hoped.
"Okay," she said, nodding.
He mustered a smile but she could tell this one wasn't half as glowing as all the other ones he'd shown her. "See you tomorrow then?"
Jane tried to smile but it came out twisted. Translation: You are one weird guy. She walked past him and made her way outside to wait for the rental car company to bring the car she'd just reserved through the hotel. She hoped she hadn't picked up a psycho stalker for this little trip. She hoped this guy had actually passed his psych eval and not somehow faked his way through it. She sat up a little straighter, glanced behind her through the glass doors of the small lobby. SHIELD had arranged for her exams. They would have handled his as well, and there was nothing to stop them from submitting fabricated reports.
He was talking and looking down at something on the counter between him and the friendly receptionist. The receptionist was looking at him. Jane rolled her eyes and turned back toward the street. She really had expected him to be lurking just inside the doors and watching her.
Just as her car pulled up and the driver got out to greet her, Lucas emerged from the lobby. Their eyes met only briefly, and he gave her his little flat-palmed wave before continuing right past her and turning into the sidewalk, headed toward the downtown area. She got in the front passenger seat, and was grateful when they pulled around and turned left, away from the city.
/
/
Loki walked down Riccarton Avenue glowering. He reached a hand under his jacket and pulled at something that was not there, withdrawing the seersucker "driving cap" that matched his suit. He pulled it on tightly over his head. The saleslady in Sydney had not quite convinced him that he did not look silly in it, but he felt freer to drop his Lucas mask with his face partially in shadow.
Why had Jane thought he was following her? He had been, of course, but she had no way of knowing that. And he no longer had a need to follow her now. He knew exactly where she was spending the night and exactly where she would be at one o'clock tomorrow afternoon. That was enough.
Besides, he already knew exactly where she was headed now, too. He'd seen the marked map that was still on the front desk after she left.
It was time to change tactics. With every smile he offered her she came closer to hating him. It usually takes them centuries to hate me, he thought, his lips curling dryly upward, then wondered if it were not more likely the other way around, and it had instead taken him centuries to realize they had always hated him. Hatred could be useful. But not in this case. He needed trust. Time to assess her. To assess his options. For now he would back off. Then he would spar with her once more and let her have a taste of his anger.
At least she had finally said something to him, instead of him having to initiate every bit of communication between them…even if it was only to accuse him of following her.
Following the directions the receptionist had given him, Loki entered the Riccarton Bush, a small old growth forest with a thirty-minute loop trail running through it, the woman had said. Pausing to open the first door through the fence into a small cage-like entryway, he read the large sign that was posted there, announcing that he was entering a "kiwi zone" and no dogs were allowed. Next to the word "kiwi" was a silhouette of an oddly-shaped round-bodied bird. He briefly wondered if the bird had any connection to the fruit, which he rather enjoyed.
Once through the second door and out of the cage, he picked a direction and began making his way through the park. He wondered what "old growth" meant on Midgard. The trees took interesting forms, some with tall straight trunks and some stockier with twisting roots skimming the forest floor, some familiar from Sydney's gardens – but he doubted any of them had lived longer than him.
His foot was beginning to ache, so he took a seat on the next empty bench he came to along the wood plank path, under the shade of a stout tree he couldn't identify. He had forgotten again to run his little test when he reached his atrocious little hotel room. Mohsin had been right about hotels – though perhaps not in the right way. Loki didn't care that they were impersonal. He did care that they were garishly furnished with furniture built for children and smelled of the cigarette smoke of the prior occupant. He had taken one look at the place and decided he would not be spending the night there.
Loki was not forgetful. He admitted to himself that he had been avoiding testing the foot. No longer. He passed his right thumb over his left and watched as the left turned fiery red and grew a talon. No problem there. He reversed the change. He leaned down and reached for his right foot, for the particles that surrounded it. He shook his head and reached harder. Tugged. Wrenched. Nothing. It was like being a child all over again. Knowing that something could be done but finding himself wholly incapable of doing it no matter how hard he tried. He would grow frustrated when energy and matter refused to conform to his instruction, sometimes self-destructively frustrated, until he learned that such behavior only made things worse. He'd learned that lesson only a little more than 900 years before Thor, he thought with a snort.
He reached up toward his ankle, and at just above his ankle line he was able to make his leather boots appear. He should have taken more precise note of it earlier, but it appeared to be no worse than it was before. Footsteps approached; he released the changes and straightened the hem of his slacks. A young couple pushing a baby stroller passed by. When they were out of sight again, he decided to check his left foot for good measure. He was reassured to see his white buck respond easily to his will, morphing into the familiar leather boot. Just as he was about to revert it, he froze. At the tip of his toe, the boot was not black but gray. And when he peered closer, he saw that at the very tip it was not gray but white. That, he was certain, had not been there before.
Sobered, Loki returned to his normal form and sat up stiffly.
This raised many questions. He had lost control of some of his magic. And with difficulty appearing in his left foot, it couldn't be attributed to the wound-that-will-never-heal on the sole of his right foot. But it could not be magic solely over the appearance of his own body. Loki could wreak havoc perfectly well while looking exactly as he did, and if he were forced to physically change clothes every time he felt like being seen in something different…well, it would be an annoyance but one he could certainly live with. Odin had said that he would lose control of magic in general, not magic for changing his appearance. And that if he did not learn from his mistakes all magic would be lost. Why had he spoken in such vague terms? He really should have asked for that manual.
He thought back to Thor's banishment. Loki had been stunned, and had not questioned the terms of that punishment either. He had assumed it to be permanent, for the All-Father had given no indication that there was any means for Thor to come home unless of course Odin for some reason himself decided Thor had had enough punishment. It was only through his mother he had learned that there was hope for Thor. And it was only through his own rash ill-conceived decision to send the Destroyer, he thought bitterly – and not for the first time – that Thor was given the opportunity to make good on that hope.
There's always a purpose to everything your father does. He had asked about hope, and she had spoken of purpose. What kind of hope was there for him? What kind of purpose was there, other than to punish and humiliate, in Odin's curses? Could he regain what was lost? What if he "learned from his mistakes," whatever that meant? Could he reverse what had happened? And what would it mean to lose all magic? Loki couldn't conceive of such a thing. He'd had at least some instinctive grasp of magical tendrils for literally as long as he could remember. It was part of the very fiber of his being. Would it kill him to lose all magic? He was fairly confident he could avoid harming humans, at least in the short term; he was less worried about the curse that Odin had burned into his wrist. But avoid using magic to cause mischief? There was a reason the ancient Norse mythology referred to him as the "god of mischief." This, too, was something instinctive to him, a part of his nature going back to the earliest pranks he played on Thor as a very young child, ruining or vanishing his toys, when Thor hadn't a clue what was going on except that Loki was somehow behind it all.
For most of his questions, unfortunately, it seemed there was no way to determine an answer until it was too late. But there was at least one question he could test. He moved to the far side of the bench and waited as nearly two hours passed, until finally someone joined him. To his left sat a young woman with long straight blond hair. She was wearing shorts and a T-shirt, probably out getting some exercise. She had a coffee cup in her right hand, a cell phone in her left hand, and somehow she was manipulating the phone with a finger from each hand.
"Excuse me, miss. I know this may sound rather odd, but, can I do something…kind for you?"
Her face had jolted up to him as soon as he'd spoken. Now she looked at him with some mixture of confusion and suspicion.
"Anything you'd like. Just name it. You have heard of those among you with uncommon abilities? I assure you, it is in my power to grant you almost anything."
She scrunched up her nose and a second later vaulted up from the bench. Loki jerked away as soon as he saw her start to thrust the coffee cup forward, but dark brown muck still dripped from his left shoulder and soaked through the cotton of the jacket and vest and into the crisp linen shirt beneath it. "Pervert!" she yelled before running off.
He barely gave her a second glance, merely clenched his teeth and ran his right hand down his shoulder in small circles. The coffee separated from his clothing and pooled onto the ground near his feet. He supposed he would have to get used to the scorns and mocking again, for a while at least. He'd been used to them before…but before he'd been able to do something about it. The same person rarely mocked him twice. Except Thor. It was different between them, though. They mocked each other incessantly, all in jest, all in good nature; Loki rarely took it personally and the same was true of Thor. At least that was the way it used to be.
Loki stood up, brushed off his dry and unblemished clothes, and turned the opposite way the girl had headed. It would not help matters if he had to harm a few Midgardian police officers. As he walked he glanced around him and, seeing no one, changed his face and hands into Mohsin's again and changed his clothing from the waist up to a dark blue long-sleeved pullover.
He exited Riccarton Bush and turned toward the central part of the city that had suffered recent earthquake damage. He would remain in this form for the rest of the day, just in case. He thought back on his latest test. It didn't count as a negative result; the test itself had failed. He had known the woman would find his offer strange and abrupt, but he also knew that the existence of the "Avengers" and others with abilities outstripping the normal human's had been widely reported in the media here. Midgard's people were not such fine specimens as Thor apparently thought if a simple unexpected offer of kindness elicited such a response. If he had wanted to proposition that woman, he could have found much clearer and more colorful means of doing so. He would have to try again, but this time the test would have to be much more carefully planned for and controlled.
/
/
"Can you see her?" Thor asked as soon as he reached Heimdall. He had been unable to ask for several days.
"Yes," Heimdall answered from his post at the door to the makeshift observatory.
"Is she well?"
"Yes." The answer came just as quickly, but he did not elaborate, and his voice lacked its usual warmth.
"What is it?" Thor asked, narrowing his eyes.
"I do not believe there is any cause for concern. She is safe and does not appear to worry over any danger."
"But? I need to know, old friend."
"Although I see her now, twice yesterday when I sought her out I could not find her."
Thor instinctively gripped Mjolnir more tightly. "Why not?" he asked, his voice dropping lower.
"I do not know. I will try to look upon her more often, but-"
"I know. Do what you can. I have a few minutes. Can you direct me to her?"
"I can. But it would be ill-advised."
"Heimdall…"
"She is in a small boat on cold open water."
Thor's eyebrows went up. Ill-advised indeed. The tesseract with its still untamed and unmastered power could send him to the floor of whatever body of water Jane was upon before it released him from its grip. And while even this was unlikely to do him real harm, it was very likely to take much longer than the few minutes he had before his next meeting with the war council.
"Very well. I will check again tonight or tomorrow. Is there any change that I will need to bring before the council?"
"No. The travelers are still in Jotunheim."
"Inform me the minute you see anything change."
"I will, my prince."
Thor started to turn, but slowly faced Heimdall again. "I know you are only trying to protect me…but please do not. If Jane is in trouble, I'll find a way to help her."
"Your first duty must be to Asgard."
Thor felt anger rising in him, but it was not directed at Heimdall. The gatekeeper and guardian of Asgard, as always, spoke the truth. The truth made him angry. "I know," Thor said calmly, then turned back toward the palace.
/
If you've been wondering where Jane's going (I've only held off telling you for some 47,000 words now), all will be revealed in the next chapter. It's hard to give a preview for that chapter (9: Preparation) that isn't too much of a spoiler, so here are some particularly vague previews.
Loki gets more new clothes, but he isn't as fond of these; and Loki is annoyed by an article about sheep (well, he's having a rough time of it, he's easily annoyed).
Did you like Loki getting coffee thrown on him? Or did you feel bad for him? Well, he's had more time on Earth to figure things out than Thor but he still essentially doesn't relate well to others, not unless he's had a chance to plan for it, and even then he's not doing so well with Jane! But those tables *will* turn. In time.
One final word about music: I broke down and bought the Thor soundtrack, so now I mostly just keep that running continuously. No words = no singing along = I get writing done.
Thank you for reading, reviews welcome. Excerpt from "Chapter 9: Preparation":
/
He looked at himself in the mirror, only his eyes visible through the goggles and everything else hidden from view. At least he didn't have to be concerned about anyone recognizing him like this. Over his shoulder in the reflection he saw Jane was repacking her clothing. He turned and approached her.
"How do I look?" he asked.
[...] Jane glanced up at him quickly. "Pretty much like everybody else here," she said.
"I suppose so," he agreed. Appearances can deceive, he thought. They had no idea they were letting a monster into their midst, and dressing it up to look just like them.