Once Jak was fully healed, Loki made sure to keep to his promise. He followed her everywhere she went. When he had free time, he even kept watch outside her bedroom while she slept during the day (not that he told her that). As she resumed her custodial duties, he ensured that she kept to Dr. Cho's advice to take things slowly and stay off of ladders. Though the cleaning and repair work was tedious and boring to observe, Loki kept himself occupied by creating illusions to tease Jak.
He created bats hanging from the gymnasium ceiling, conjured a fake beehive in the bathroom, and made magical flowers appear between the tiles on the kitchen floor. When his illusions stopped fooling her and she started ignoring them, he switched to full blown pranks. His favorite was when he set off one of the sprinklers, but replaced the water with green dye. Jak had not been amused to find the lobby covered in his signature color and she'd made him clean it up.
After that, he switched to watching her, but not saying or doing anything. He simply followed and observed, hoping this behavior would spook her into speaking to him. Unfortunately, his plan backfired and she seemed to enjoy the quiet, putting in her earbuds and ignoring him completely. He gave up that notion quickly and decided that, instead, he would talk her ear off and hope to compel her into conversation.
He focused on subjects that she might have experienced as well, relaying tales of his trips to Midgard in the past two centuries. And sometimes that worked.
He told her about the time he'd danced with Queen Marie Antoinette and she'd told him that her father had spent some time in the French court. Though she'd never been allowed to visit until after the aristocrats had all been beheaded.
He spoke of a misguided adventure that he and Thor had in Las Vegas in the 1950s that involved a mob boss, a casino, and dressing up as showgirls. Jak had laughed and asked for every detail and then told him about the few years in the same decade that her mother had found them both work at a hotel called Caesars Palace in Vegas while they mourned the death of her father. She didn't seem particularly upset about his death when telling of how she met Frank Sinatra while serving drinks in the casino.
He mentioned that he spent some time aboard a pirate ship in the early 1800s, freeing the individuals trapped on slaving ships. This made her smile and then grow sad. When he asked what she was upset about, she shakily told him that her father had been heavily involved in the slave trade. She scowled and called the dead man a bastard, the first true hostility Loki had heard her use toward her father.
After that, Loki decided to keep from mentioning the darker parts of history while in conversation with her. Not that it mattered because from then onward, she barely responded to his stories. He wasn't sure if it was the memory that had quieted her or the quickly approaching parole hearing. Either way, since she wouldn't talk to him, he returned to his silence as he guarded her.
The night before her hearing, he used illusions to hide himself from her vision entirely. He'd told her earlier that he had other business to attend to that evening so that she wouldn't be suspicious of his absence and then he watched her to see how she would behave when he wasn't around.
The first thing she did was put on headphones and play music from her cell phone. It occurred to Loki that, if he'd really been bothering her when he followed her around, she could have just ignored him by listening to music instead. But she hadn't. She'd listened to him instead of her music.
As the night progressed and she moved to mopping floors, a small smile graced her lips. She took the phone out of her coverall pocket and turned up the volume before taking a few steps away from the bucket of water. Her footsteps moved in sweeping steps and her shoulders raised along with her arms. Her chin tilted upward and she began what Loki vaguely recognized as a waltz.
Jak spun around the room, occasionally dipping the mop in order to clean up a stain. Her pink ponytail bounced behind her and her coveralls made the soft swishing sounds of fabric on fabric. Loki wished he knew a spell to disconnect the bluetooth of her headphones so that he might hear whatever musical piece she was so entranced by. More than that, he wished that he could toss the mop away from her and take her in his arms to spin around. The hazy romantic feelings quickly changed to irritation when he saw Steve Rogers enter the room and stand, lurking in the doorway.
The Captain crossed his arms and leaned on the doorframe, watching Jaklyn's every move with a soft, sad expression. The woman did not notice him, so absorbed was she in her waltz. Loki briefly considered throwing a knife across the room and pinning Steve's guts to the wall, but he doubted that would win him any points with Jaklyn. Instead, he told himself that this is exactly what he wanted. He wanted to know more about the relationship between Jak and Steve and they would be more likely to talk about it if they thought they were alone.
"Didn't your mother ever tell you that standing in doorways is rude?" Jak asked sharply, finally noticing the Captain.
"Sorry," Steve straightened up and stepped into the room, "I just wanted to check on you since you're, uh, unchaperoned tonight."
"Finally rid of him," Jak said in what Loki hoped was a joking tone, "He's been following me like a duckling."
"Don't call him a duckling," Steve chuckled, "You'll make him think he's cute or something."
"He is," Jak smirked, "In a terrifying, alien warlord kind of way."
Steve shrugged and shook his head a little. "If you say so. He's not really my type, but to each their own."
"And, if you don't mind me asking," Jak took a few steps closer to Steve, "What is your type?"
"Girls who dance," he smiled a bit sadly and Loki hoped the Captain was reliving painful, grief-filled memories. He deserved every bit of anguish. Well… he probably didn't deserve it, but Loki wished it upon him nonetheless.
"How long were you watching me for?" Jak tucked the mop away in her cleaning cart and awkwardly wrapped her arms around herself.
"Not long, but I should admit that I've seen security footage of you dancing with the mop before," Steve scratched the back of his head, "I may have… watched it a few times."
"Steven Grant Rogers!" Jak laughed and her cheeks flushed red. Loki grit his teeth. He didn't think it was a laughing matter. The Captain had clearly been stalking her. Watching her without her realizing it? That was creepy and obsessive.
And certainly not something Loki was doing that very moment.
"You move like someone who's been dancing all their life," Steve said.
"Thank you for not saying I move like I've been dancing for two hundred plus years," Jak teased, "I do so hate to be reminded of my age."
"Where did you learn to dance? Here? England? Didn't you spend some time in France too?"
"Yes, and my personal maid taught me a bit of ballet while we were there, but my mother always despised ballet. It was considered rather, uh, promiscuous at the time," Jak blushed, "Though I'm glad to see that its reputation has changed."
Loki suddenly had no other wish but to see Jak in a tutu, dancing ballet. From the sound of her voice, she had clearly loved it. Or at least felt wistful about it.
"You learned ballet in France, where did you learn to waltz?" Steve asked.
"Vienna," she sighed and struck up her dance position again, "At that time, I was fifteen and my father was interested in me for a short while. I realized later that he was only interested because boys were beginning to be interested in me and he wanted to secure a match. He made sure we went to every ball that he had connections at. My mother was on his arm, beaming as if she'd swallowed the sun."
Jak spun and closed her eyes as if picturing it. Then she stopped and sighed again, looking back to Steve.
"But it didn't last long before… well, it's the same old story every time, isn't it?" She frowned and shook her head, "Sorry. I won't bore you with the details. To answer your question: I learned to dance all over the world. Every place has their own movements."
"I've traveled the world, but I still only know a little foxtrot and a bit of swing. And something Tony taught me called the Macarena."
Jak really laughed at this and Loki made a note to look up the Macarena. He could learn it too if it was that impressive to her.
Not that he, a god, needed to impress a simple Midgardian woman. Obviously.
"I can show you how to waltz," she said, "It's easy."
"I don't know…"
"Steve, if you can throw your shield so that it perfectly bounces off twenty surfaces, knocks out a bad guy, and then returns to you like some kind of frisbee-boomerang, you can manage a waltz, give me your hands."
She took Steve's hands and held one, placing the other lightly on her back. Loki decided that this was probably the best possible time to interrupt and he disguised himself as Thor before stomping loudly across the floor. Both Jak and Steve jumped in surprise, stepping away from each other hastily.
"Lady Janitor! Are you prepared to face the parole board tomorrow?" Loki asked, mimicking his brother's thunderous voice, "This floor is well cleaned. You ought to go to bed so that you can get plenty of rest before tomorrow! It would not do to have you fall asleep before the board!"
"Uh, well, I still have plenty of other floors to mop," Jak blushed and cleared her throat, "I should probably get back to work. Err, thanks for checking on me, Steve."
"Yeah. Of course. Anytime," Steve backed away and nodded at Loki, "Thor. Jak. Goodnight."
When he was gone, Loki said a few more over-excited things and then wished Jak a good night before leaving her alone. He cast another illusion over himself to make her not see him and then went back to watching her.
She did not dance again that night.
A note from the author: Whoops! It's been a hot minute since I've updated! Anyway, thanks for reading! :)