"I want to know who the hell is threatening a member of my staff, and I want to know now," Tony Stark growled into the phone as he paced. No one was quite sure who he was talking to, but it was his third phone call.

Meanwhile, Romanoff was speaking on her own cell phone in rapid Russian. Loki's Russian was a bit rusty, so he wasn't sure what she was saying, but it was also about finding the sender of the box of bones.

Rhodey was pacing after Tony, offering tidbits of information, Sam and Vision had flown into town to see if anyone there recognized the security footage of the delivery man. Thor had volunteered to take the box away, stashing it in one of the labs for study later.

And Loki and Wanda sat on either side of Jak while the damned Captain America hovered nearby. Jak had stopped crying at least, but she was still shaking badly and Rhodey had insisted on turning the dampening cuff back on when furniture had started bursting into pieces whenever Jak touched a chair or table.

"Stark will find whoever did this," Wanda said soothingly, "They made a big mistake sending it to the Compound. With all of the connections this team has, I am sure it won't be more than a few hours before they are discovered."

"And then we tear them to ribbons," Loki added, wrapping his arm around Jak. He pulled her into his side and felt her stop shaking.

"Whoever it is might have a connection to Bucky," the Captain said quietly, "We'll capture them, question them, and -"

"No, no," Jak said, the first time she'd spoken since she revealed that the bones were her mother's. Her voice was a snarl and when Loki saw her face he barely recognized her. He'd seen her angry with him before, and he'd seen her scared, but this was something else. "I agree with Loki. Whoever did this is going to die."

"Jaklyn…"

She looked up sharply at Steve. "I want to help Bucky as much as you do, Steve, but even if the sender is connected to him, they crossed a line and I'm not going to let them get away with it."

"You are on probation, Jaklyn, you'd go straight to some high security prison. No more magic. You'd be a sitting duck."

Loki hated that Steve was making sense. Not that he would admit it.

"I will kill them and save you the trouble," he said simply. Even if it did create a problem for Odin, he doubted that the Allfather would execute him for a small bit of revenge to protect someone.

"I'd rather do it myself. Let's see what my magic can actually do."

"You need to think this through," Steve pointed at her, "I know you're upset right now, but you need to take some time to process before you do anything stupid. Either of you."

"You have no authority over me, Captain," Loki scoffed.

"I am thinking this through," Jak glared daggers at the Captain, "I want to kill whoever is responsible."

"Wanda, help me make them see reason."

"While I agree with both of you that whoever has done this should be punished, think of the outcome if either of you kills them," Wanda looked each of them in the eye, "If Loki commits a crime while here on earth, Thor will have no choice but to take him back to Asgard. Or, if Jak violates her probation, she will be locked away. You won't be able to see each other again, at least not for quite some time, if you move forward with this."

Loki was not sure that their tentative romance was enough to keep Jak from murder. He had no idea how she wanted this to play out, he'd been shocked when she agreed that the perpetrator should die. He was so used to the Avengers finding another solution and trying to save people, he'd forgotten that Jak was not one of them and that she had violence in her past.

However, she relaxed in his hold and nodded after Wanda spoke.

"Fine. But I at least want to punch them when we figure out who it is," she grumbled.

"First hit is all yours," Steve reached out and patted her shoulder. Annoyed, Loki batted his hand away. He had not forgotten that the Captain had ordered him to stay away from the woman and he certainly hadn't forgotten the way the other man held her when she'd been crying upon opening the box.

They stayed in the conference room for nearly an hour longer, but it seemed that Stark was not as good at finding people as he'd thought. No progress was made and Jak barely spoke. Her stomach growled loudly and Loki remembered their abandoned picnic on the dock.

"Let's get you something to eat," he said quietly.

"I don't want to."

"You need dinner," he carefully pulled her to her feet.

"Loki, I'm fine," she protested, but did not resist when he led her toward the door.

"Come along, the robot made a fresh loaf of bread. You don't need to eat a whole meal, but a thick slice of bread with some butter sounds nice, don't you think?"

Her stomach growled again and she sighed. "Alright. Let's get some bread."

He took her to the kitchen and found the hefty loaf of bread Vision had made earlier that evening. Always eager for a chance to show off in front of Jak, Loki took one of his daggers and twirled it along his fingers, when it finished twirling it had been transformed into a serrated bread knife that he used to saw at the loaf. Once the bread was cut, he twirled the knife once more, changing it into a butter knife.

"Would you care for some milk with this?" He offered as he set the plate of bread in front of her. She hadn't been watching his knife twirling, she'd pulled her long hair in front of her face and pressed her hands to her eyes.

"Wine would be better," she grumbled, "But I don't drink so I'll take the milk."

"Well, calcium is good for your…" he bit back the word "bones" and hastily amended, "Calcium is good for you."

He brought her a glass of milk and then sat on the stool next to her as she lowered her hands away from her eyes and tore the bread into tiny pieces. Eventually, she ate a piece and then the rest, hair still hiding her face as she chewed in silence.

"Murder is not completely off the table," he said quietly, "If we put a sturdy disguise spell over you then you can get away with almost anything."

"We don't even know who we'd be killing," she sighed, pushing the empty plate away from her and picking up the glass of milk, "If Mr. Stark can't figure out who it is then there's nothing we can do."

"Forget Stark and his technology for a moment," Loki told her, "Can you think of anyone who would do this?"

"No!" She replied in frustration, slamming the glass of milk down, some of the liquid sloshing over the sides, "Just like I have no idea who would send the Winter Soldier after me. Hardly anyone who might hate me is still alive. After the second World War, after my father died, we lived as anonymously as we could. It was only when Captain America showed up on the news during the invasion of New York that my mother started planning again."

Her voice cracked slightly on the word "mother".

"That was four and a half years ago," Loki said, inwardly pushing down any of his own memories of the invasion in New York, "Is there anyone who you've met in the meantime who might have sent… that package?"

"I can't think of anyone who might want to hurt me," she shook her head, "The Avengers are the only enemies I had and what my mother and I did was nothing more than a wild weekend for them."

"Are you so sure the sender is someone who wants to hurt you? Their note seemed congratulatory. They wanted you to use what they sent you to strengthen your powers," he spoke without thinking and almost immediately regretted it.

"What are you talking about?" She snapped, "They sent me a box of my mother's bones! How could that be anything more than a threat?"

"I'm sorry," he put his hands up peaceably, "It is a very alarming thing for someone to do, but…"

"But what?!"

"It is an old practice, no longer considered ethical," he flexed his fingers, "But, it is known amongst sorcerers that powdering the bones of another magic user can create a concoction to enhance one's magical focus."

Jak's face whipped up to look at him, her hair hitting him in the face before landing over her shoulder. Her mouth twitched in silent horror and her brow furrowed with anger, or perhaps confusion, but Loki didn't pay any notice to her expression. Her purple irises had gone bright orange.

A quick glance at the cuff on her wrist confirmed that it was still working. Rhodey had taken away her powers for the time being and had not given them back, but the way her eyes smoldered, it was clear magic was at play.

"Whoever sent the package wanted me to grind up my mother's bones?!"

"It… seemed as if that was what they intended for you to do, yes," Loki said slowly, not looking away from her eyes for one moment.

"What the hell?!" She roared, "Why would someone-? Who thought-? I would never do that!"

Loki did not mention that whoever it was must have wanted to spare her at least some trauma. Even after the three years her mother had been dead, the bones should not have been as pristine and clean as they were. Someone had gone to the trouble of bleaching any remaining flesh away - a decidedly nasty process. But, he didn't think mentioning this kindness on the mystery sender's behalf would do much to appease Jak.

"Can you think of anyone who might wish for you to become stronger in your power?" He asked instead, "If that was truly their aim, then it considerably narrows down who might have sent the package."

She looked at the ceiling, her eyes still blazing the color of lava. Then she looked back at him, immense hurt on her face that made him want to pull her into his arms.

"You… you didn't do this… Loki, you're the only one I can think of who would want me to be more powerful. Tell me it wasn't you. Please."

It felt like a punch to the gut that she would even consider that it could be him, but he supposed it made a sort of terrible sense. He had been training her, he'd mentioned before to her that he thought Wanda was far more powerful. Perhaps she thought he was calling her inferior.

"Jak," he said softly, "I have done many horrible things in my life, many I did gleefully, but I would not hurt you so, not even to make you the most powerful sorceress in all the realms. I know I am not a trustworthy person, but please believe me when I say this was not me."

The orange color in her eyes dulled and then faded to the usual shade of violet. Tears welled up in those beautiful eyes and he quickly took her hand and stood up, pulling her closer to him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I knew it wasn't you, but…"

"But all things considered we don't actually know each other that well," he ran his hand through her hair, "And I have a reputation for cruelty."

"I'm sorry," she said again. "I don't know who it could be. I'm scared and I'm tired. And I… I miss my mother. She was a horrible person, she was mean and I know the way she treated me was wrong, but I miss her."

Loki cursed himself when he immediately thought of Odin.

"She raised you," he said into her hair, "Of course you miss her."

He closed his eyes as he remembered how his father had held his hand when he was a boy, had smiled at him, told him he was born to be a king.

Jak gently wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek on his chest.

"But," she sniffled, "If she were here, she would most likely hurt me more than comfort me."

Loki opened his eyes to stop himself from picturing the shattered Rainbow Bridge, his brother willing him to hold on, the rubble of the Bifrost around them. But even with his eyes open, he could still see his father - Odin - saying that all of his efforts were for naught. The dismissal in that great king's eyes as he scolded and the small spark of surprise when Loki let go.

"Parents know how to inflict the deepest cuts," he told her, "Without even realizing they are holding the knife."

She looked up at him then and he knew that she could see her own pain reflected back at her. Her hand slowly reached up to touch his cheek and he tangled his fingers in her hair as if to keep her from going away, though she seemed intent on staying regardless.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"I haven't done anything worthy of your thanks."

"Yes you have," she kissed his cheek, "You wield knives too, but you never turn the blades on me. You only cut the people who have done me harm."

"And that loaf of bread over there."

She snorted out a small laugh and after an hour of tears, anger, and fear, she finally smiled. It was not as beaming as the way she'd looked at him on the dock, but he treasured it just as much.

A note from the author: Thanks for reading! Please follow, favorite, and review if you feel so inclined! :D