Loki did not consider himself to be vain. Of course, he knew that he was staggeringly handsome and carried himself with confidence. But on Asgard, there had always been Thor or Fandral to win the attractions and affections of the ladies of the realm. The younger prince had his fair share of dalliances to be sure, but watching potential romantic partners walk right past him to ogle his brother had kept him fairly humble.

Typically, he did not spend much time looking in the mirror, particularly because he could use magic to change his appearance however he wished. On the night he was meant to take Jak on a date, however, he felt as if he'd been studying his reflection for far too long… and yet something still wasn't right.

"It's the hair," Thor said from where he lay on Loki's bed, bouncing a ball against the ceiling. Loki had not invited him, but word had gotten out about the date and Thor had eagerly decided to assist. So far his assistance had been limited to unhelpful remarks.

"What's wrong with my hair?" Loki asked, putting his hands on his hips and turning to look at his brother.

"Too greasy. Try fluffing it up a bit! Mother always said your curls were cute," Thor teased.

Annoyed, but having no better ideas, Loki waved a spell over his head to remove the styling gel he used. His hair was not truly curly, but there were some waves and it did look softer. Perhaps more inviting for his date to reach out and touch…

"There!" Thor boomed, "Handsome as ever, brother! Are you going to wear that?"

"No," Loki magicked his tunic and trousers into a pair of dark gray slacks and a white button down shirt. He added a green tie and a gray blazer, but decided they were too much and removed them again.

"Perhaps a watch," Thor suggested, missing catching the ball and cringing when it hit him in the eye. "I have found that women have a strange fascination with wrists and hands."

"What?" Loki asked, unable to hide the amusement in his voice. "How did you learn this? Did you take a formal poll?"

"No," the big blond sat up straight, "Jane, Darcy, and I were watching a film titled Pride and Prejudice and there was this man who flexed his hand and both of them were infatuated. They spent nearly fifteen minutes discussing how much they liked it. They also mentioned that rolling up your sleeves after wearing them down for a while is very good."

"Why? How much of a difference can rolling your sleeves up make?" Loki turned back to the mirror and rolled his shirt sleeves up. He raised a brow. "Hmm. I suppose."

"You must start with them down though," Thor advised, "And then, perhaps at a lull in conversation, roll them up. According to Jane and Darcy, the action is as attractive as the end result."

"I'm surprised at you," Loki put his sleeves back down and fastened the cuffs, "You must really like Jane to pay so much attention to such trivial details."

Thor flopped back on the bed again and sighed with great gusto.

"I think I may love her."

Loki had to literally bite his tongue to stop himself from making a comment about how Jane would age and die in a short time, while Thor stayed the same for centuries. It was true, but he didn't want to ruin the small, contented smile on his big brother's face. Besides, he was fond of the human scientist as well, though he rarely admitted it, and didn't wish to speak ill of her.

A small spark of joy filled him for a moment as he recalled that Jak would not be subject to the same rapid aging. If he were to grow attached. He pushed the spark down and reminded himself that he barely knew her and this was to be their first date. He tried to make himself think of how she'd thrown him from the roof, but all he could think of was the excitement he'd felt when he managed to get her to actually attack him with her magic.

"Where are you two going to eat?" Thor asked, snapping Loki out of his thoughts.

"Friday tells me that in the nearest town there is an eatery with decent fare and romantic outdoor seating. And wine," Loki sighed this time, "Though I wish it were from the vineyards at home. Midgardian alcohol is… well, I'm sure you're aware."

"Here," Thor suddenly had a flask in his hand, though none of his pockets were big enough to hold it, "Add a splash of this to your drink and maybe you'll enjoy it a bit more."

Loki took the flask gratefully.

"Just be sure Jaklyn does not get any," Thor chuckled, "It was not made for mortals."

"In all fairness," Loki patted Thor's shoulder, "Neither were we, brother."

A touch of sadness glinted in the elder's eyes, but he hid it with another laugh.

.

As Tony Stark had insisted on driving them into town himself, Loki was forced to endure the billionaire's company while he waited at the front of the Compound for Jak to arrive. Though the Midgardian genius was, as always, extremely annoying, Loki couldn't help but think that, if they'd first met as allies, they might have gotten along well. Might have even been friends.

As things were, he was currently chanting under his breath "don't strangle him, you're rehabilitated, don't strangle him, you're rehabilitated" over and over again.

"I just realized something," Tony interrupted his own tangent about the impracticality of Loki's helmet, "You don't have any money. How are you planning on paying for dinner?"

"Well-"

"Unless you're going to make Jaklyn do it?" Tony sounded appalled and then smiled, "Maybe she insisted she should pay for it? Good for her, breaking out of those outdated societal norms she was raised on."

"Stark, you pay Thor with Midgardian money to be an Avenger," Loki said, "Thor lent me a bit of cash. I'll pay him back with Asgardian currency later."

"But if Jak wants to pay, you'll let her, right?"

"I was thinking we'd split the bill," Loki rolled his eyes and wished almost any other Avenger could have given them a ride. Except, maybe, Steve Rogers. That might have been a tad awkward all things considered.

"Good call, good call. Playing it safe on the first date," Stark nodded and then bobbed excitedly, "Oh, hey, do you know what music she listens to? If the place you're going has music playing you could ask the staff to play a song she likes. Did you know she's a dancer? Or, at least, she likes to dance? I guess growing up the way she did that's to be expected. Everyone danced in the days of yore, right?"

Loki mostly kept quiet for the ten minutes more they waited. Tony did not keep quiet at all, taking it upon himself to give Loki pointers on how to make the evening more romantic and occasionally tossing in a warning about keeping things "PG", whatever that meant.

Finally, Jak stepped out of the Compound and both men straightened to attention. Tony let out a wolf whistle that caused Loki to elbow him a bit harder than he should have. The billionaire landed in a shrub.

The woman before them wore a knee length, A-line dress with cap sleeves and a slight V neckline. It suited her shape well, as did the sensible heels she wore. Loki only had one complaint with it and that was the color. It was a faded red that somewhat clashed with her hair. He guessed that it was on loan from Wanda based on the color. That witch did seem to have an affinity for shades of scarlet.

"You look lovely," he told Jak when she stood in front of him. She looked a bit nervous, standing with one arm awkwardly hanging and the other crossed over her chest. But there was a smile on her face.

"You look lovely as well," she nodded at him.

"Say 'senior citizen romance'!" Stark chirped, taking out his phone and snapping a picture of them. "That's going on the fridge."

"Mr. Stark, you know, I could drive. You could stay here," Jak offered.

"Ms. Baker, I know for a fact that you do not have an up to date driver's license," Stark opened the back door of the car for her and she reluctantly climbed in. Loki followed after her, deciding it would be less awkward if he sat in the back instead of up at the front with Iron Man.

"I've been driving since 1972, Mr. Stark, even if I don't currently have a license, I know what I'm doing," Jak said. Her voice never took on an argumentative tone, despite the contradictory words. Loki had noticed that when she spoke to Stark, she had the utmost respect. Perhaps it was because she was technically his employee, but Loki suspected there was something else behind the deference.

"Be that as it may," Stark replied, starting the car, "I want to see where you are going for dinner. You are both former supervillains, what kind of superhero would I be if I didn't keep tabs on you?"

"The kind I might actually like?" Loki suggested in a whisper that only Jak heard. She hid a smile behind her hand as the vehicle pulled away from the Compound.

The three of them sat in silence until they made it off the property. Once they hit the road, Stark asked Friday, who was apparently installed in the car, to "set the mood". The car speakers played the sound of a drum followed by passionate wailing from a saxophone.

Jak snorted loudly and slapped a hand to her mouth as she burst into giggles. Her face turned almost exactly the same color as her dress.

"I feel so unsure… as I take your hand and lead you to the dance floor…"

"Careless Whisper? Really, Mr. Stark?" Jak was full on laughing now and though Loki wasn't sure what was so funny, he couldn't help but smile as well.

"You're right, you're right," Stark grinned at them in the rearview, "Maybe something a little less on the nose?"

Trumpets sounded this time and Jak's embarrassed giggles turned to an excited smile as a warm, smooth man's voice filled the car.

"Someday, when I'm awfully low, when the world is cold, I will feel a glow, just thinking of you and the way you look tonight…"

Jak sang every word along with the music, surprising both Stark and Loki with her own smooth voice.

"Sinatra, huh?" Stark said, "I would have thought you were more a Dean Martin kind of girl. Or Perry Como?"

"No one compares to Frank Sinatra," Jak shook her head and then relaxed into her seat and closed her eyes. Loki, recalling that she had told him she'd once met Frank Sinatra, paid close attention to the song. It was a love song. A bit sappy for his taste, but the singer did have a soothing voice.

"When you met him, did he sing?" Loki asked Jak.

"You've met Sinatra?" Tony asked, glancing over his shoulder with an expression of shock. "Did you get his autograph?"

"Well," she opened her eyes and looked at Loki, "You know I was working at a casino at the time. He was not performing that night, and I certainly couldn't have asked him to sing- how rude would that be? So I never heard him sing in person, no. I did get his autograph…" she trailed off with a sad sigh, "But my mother hated his music so when she found out, she tore up the paper he'd signed."

Loki winced. Odin had never been one for music, though Asgard thrived on strong voices and battle songs. He recalled once, when he was a child, the king had angrily dismissed a group of bards from the dining hall because he found the sound of them annoying. It might not have stuck in Loki's memory so much if the dismissal of musicians hadn't come right after Loki had said how much he enjoyed them. He wasn't sure that was what tipped Odin into sending them away, but it was an odd coincidence.

"Clearly your mother was no great judge of music," Loki told Jak, though he didn't personally care for the song himself, "This is splendid."

"Isn't it?" She smiled again and leaned a bit closer to him.

"Hey! Don't climb all over each other back there!" Stark snapped teasingly.

"Stark, why did you agree to drive us?" Loki asked, eyes narrowed, "I thought you did not want me to pursue any sort of relationship with Jaklyn."

"I don't really," Stark shrugged, "But she seems okay with it and I'm sure the best way to drive you two apart is to let you get to know each other better."

"I'm more than okay with it," Jak reached out and took Loki's hand, holding it tight and shocking him momentarily, "I think we're going to have a grand time and maybe we'll even go on a second date next week."

"Alright, alright, I won't interfere anymore. We're almost to your restaurant anyway," Stark turned the vehicle into town, "Everybody be on your best behavior. I'll pick you up at eight."

"Nine," Jak said firmly.

"Eight thirty."

"Perfect," she nodded as they pulled up to a building that looked like it had once been a residence, but was now a busy eatery. There were strings of lights criss crossing over an outdoor dining area and crisp white tablecloths on every table. It was hard to consider anything "fancy" after growing up in a palace, but Loki supposed it as at least more romantic than the Avengers Compound kitchen.

"Alright kids, have fun," Tony called to them as they exited the vehicle, "But not too much fun!"

"He does know we're both centuries older than him, right?" Loki muttered as they half-heartedly waved goodbye to the billionaire.

"I suppose that's the problem of magically stopping aging so young," she shook her head.

"How old were you when you stopped aging?" Loki asked curiously. Given that he was in his thousands now, but he looked to be around the same age as Steve Rogers, and Steve Rogers was nearly a hundred, but looked to be younger than Tony Stark, he had a bit of a hard time gauging how old humans were.

"I'm not sure the exact age," she said, "It's hard to tell, since it takes a while to even notice that you've stopped aging, you know? But I think I was around twenty-five, or twenty-six? Definitely before thirty because my mother thought if I looked too old no man would want me. She and my father cast some sort of spell, I didn't fully understand it."

"Is there such a difference between twenty-five and thirty?"

"I don't think so, but you must remember that this was back in the seventeen hundreds. Standards for women were much harsher. And, of course, if I was perceived to be too old to have children, well, then I was practically worthless," she scowled and then shook it off with a smile, "But we're not here to talk about outdated social standards! At least, I hope not."

"Certainly not," Loki offered her his arm and she tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. Then he led her to the door of the restaurant, enjoying how close they stood. She smelled like lilac flowers and soap. He had a small moment of panic when he wondered what he might smell like, but decided whatever the scent was, it must not be bad, because Jak leaned closer to him as they spoke to the restaurant hostess.

"Could we eat outside?" Jak asked, "It's such a nice evening."

"Of course," the hostess nodded, "We should have an outdoor table opening up in about ten minutes if you don't mind waiting?"

"Do you mind?" Jak looked up at him.

"Not at all. If the lady wishes to eat outside, then we shall eat outside," he told her.

"Aw, you guys are adorable," the hostess told them, "Thank you for your patience. If you'd like to sit while you wait, there's a bench right behind you."

Loki led Jak to the bench and they sat.

"It smells amazing in here," Jak took a deep breath. "Mm, like fresh bread."

Loki took a whiff as well, and he did smell the fresh bread, but he also caught the scent of something else. Something that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he hastily took in their surroundings with a warrior's eyes.

Nothing seemed amiss, but he could have sworn he smelled gunpowder. Perhaps the candles in the restaurant were confusing his nose.

Soon, their table was ready and they were led outside. He pulled back the seat for Jak first and she sat down, still smiling. He sat down himself and anxiously observed every other person around them. No one seemed out of place, or potentially dangerous, but he supposed neither did he or Jak and both of them had killed before.

"Can I get you started with wine? Or another drink?" The waiter asked them, appearing too suddenly for Loki's liking. The man was short, bald, and smelled far too strongly of cologne to be working in such a nice establishment. All of this would have been fine, if the waiter weren't also staring intently at Jak with a glint in his eyes that Loki didn't like.

"Just water for me, thank you," Jak told him, slouching behind her menu as if to make herself less visible.

Loki had been planning on ordering wine and then infusing it with just a few drops of the Asgardian alcohol Thor had given him. However with the smell of gunpowder still faintly in the air and the hungry way the waiter was looking at Jak, he wanted to keep his head completely clear. So he ordered water as well.

"You can drink if you want," Jak said once the waiter was gone, "It won't bother me."

"Is there a reason you chose not to have the wine?" Loki asked, still watching the other diners intently.

"I… I stopped drinking during Prohibition," she said, though it sounded like a partial lie.

"Prohibition?" Loki asked, finally looking back at her. She was fidgeting with her napkin and staring blankly at her menu.

"Oh, it was nearly a hundred years ago. To sum it up simply: alcohol sales were illegal. Most rich families still had it, of course, but my father was doing too many other illegal things to be caught because of liquor, so it was strictly forbidden for me and my mother as well."

"There was a time when Midgardians made alcohol illegal?"

"It's a bit more complicated than that, but yes," she shrugged, "I was glad of it at the time."

Loki sensed there was more to her personal experience. Something she didn't want to say. Or maybe something she did want to say, but didn't want to bring up for fear of being rude.

"Why were you glad of it?" Loki asked and then smiled to try and lighten the mood. The gaping waiter and the gunpowder had created an awkwardness around them. "I can't imagine what would happen on Asgard if the people were not allowed to drink. Mead is a deeply ingrained tradition."

"Having seen Thor drink Asgardian Mead before, I am well aware of that," she laughed softly, lowering her menu shield. "I was glad there was no alcohol in our house because my mother used to put things in my drinks."

"What?" Loki blinked in surprise, his focus fully on her now, "What sorts of things?"

"I never did find out, actually. I wouldn't have even known if I hadn't seen her do it once, a few years before Prohibition. The alcohol covered the taste of whatever it was entirely," she began fidgeting with the napkin again. "I suspect it was something to… well, I don't have any sort of proof and she's dead now, so it doesn't really matter."

Loki remained silent for a moment, watching her intently until she spoke up again.

"It's just… I noticed that whenever I had wine or any sort of booze, I always felt less in control of my powers. My mother mainly used me as a puppet anyway, but I still had some free will with my magic. Whenever I drank, it felt like I couldn't even do the simplest spells. I never had that feeling during Prohibition and I stopped drinking alcohol when it was allowed again."

"I never met you mother, but I grow to dislike her the more I hear about her," Loki frowned, "Have you tried any sort of drink since she's died to see if it affects you the same way?"

"No," she ducked behind her menu again as the bald waiter approached with their drinks, "And I don't think I will."

"Two waters," the waiter placed their drinks on the table and took out a notepad and pen, "Are you ready to order?"

They both told the man what they wanted, but unlike most waiters, he did not leave immediately after, instead standing and staring at Jak again. Her shoulders hunched inward and she busied herself with her water, no longer having the menu to hide behind.

"Was there something else?" Loki asked, pulling the waiter's attention to himself.

"Hmm?"

"Why are you still standing here?"

"My apologies, I could swear I've seen her before though. Do you know me, ma'am?"

Jak looked up at him and studied him for just a second before shaking her head.

"No, sorry, you must be thinking of someone else."

"Oh, I've got it!"

Loki prepared to spin a lie if the man said he recognized her from the news.

"I've seen you in my dreams!"

He winked and then walked off. Loki scowled after him and considered a few courses of action that would, most likely, not be acceptable for a redeemed supervillain. He wondered if he could get away with turning the man into a rat when no one was looking.

"That was weird," Jak laughed half heartedly. "We're clearly on a date and he's using pick up lines?"

"Shall I see if we can be waited on by someone else?" Loki saw the hostess pass by and began to raise his hand to flag her down, but Jak stopped him.

"No, it's fine. He'll bring us our food and check and then we won't have to think about him again. Some people are just odd," she smiled up at him, "Now, I've told you all kinds of sad shit about my life, tell me what it was like growing up as a prince."

They fell into more normal conversation for some time. Loki tried to keep his stories of Asgard cheerful, or at least not about Odin. He spoke of Frigga often, though, telling Jak how much she would have loved her. He told her about the palace and a few minor battles he'd fought in, but tried to steer away from the past few years. She didn't need to know about his plan to destroy Jotunheim. Though she, along with the Avengers, knew he had not been entirely responsible for the Battle of New York, he had no virtuous excuse for what he'd done while Thor had been banished.

"Is it weird to say that I would like to see you in a battle?" Jak asked with a laugh, "I've seen pictures from the invasion, but I imagine that seeing you in action would be… erm, well very cool."

"I'm sure once you master your abilities you'll be quite the site to behold in battle yourself," he told her. He imagined her clad in Asgardian armor, wielding magic, standing at his side as they fought in tandem. They would be a force to be reckoned with.

"Chicken parmesan for you," the waiter interrupted the fantasy by placing a plate of food right in front of him, bumping Loki slightly with his elbow. "And a nice risotto for the lady."

They thanked him, but once again, he didn't leave, just standing and staring at Jak. This time, Loki noticed that the man's gaze dropped lower than her face, focusing on her chest area. She looked away from him, taking a bite of food instead. Loki took a bite as well and then snapped his fingers at the waiter, though his mother had taught him better manners than that.

"Yes, the first bite is delicious."

"Huh?"

"I assume that's why you are watching my date so intently? To find out if she likes the food? I can't imagine any other reason you might be loitering at our table."

"Yikes," the waiter pointed a thumb at Loki, "Temper on this one, eh? They say that it's a major red flag if your partner treats servers poorly, you know. Better watch out, ma'am."

Jak frowned and finally looked the waiter in the eye.

"What do you want?" She asked him, her knuckles going white as she clenched her fork, "It's not normal for the waiter to stick around and stare at the customers, is it?"

"Sheesh, alright, just thought I'd give you a warning," the waiter put his hands up and walked away. Loki's gaze followed him and saw that the bald man pinched a waitress' backside as he walked past her. The woman frowned but didn't say anything in objection.

"I need to use the restroom," Loki told Jak, "I'll be right back."

"You aren't going to escape me by sneaking out the bathroom window, are you?" She asked with a small smile.

Loki gently took her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles. "Never. If I don't return, tell Thor to knock some sense into me with his hammer."

He left her to follow the waiter. Changing his appearance with magic, he snuck into the kitchen and spotted the man he was after, chatting with one of the chefs, who was laughing along to what was being said.

"Should have seen the lady at table five," the waiter was saying, "If it weren't for the pink hair, she'd be a ten. Her knockers are a ten on their own. Too bad she's all covered up in that frumpy dress-ugh!"

Loki grinned as a bit of magic hit the waiter's stomach and filled the man with intense nausea. He threw up right there in the kitchen, on top of whatever the chef had been preparing. Cries of horror and disgust rang out all around him. Loki made his way back to the table, switching back to his normal appearance as he went. When he sat down at the table, he recalled one of the tips Thor had suggested and rolled up his sleeves to his elbow. Jak's eyes were firmly on his forearms now and she paused, food halfway to her mouth. Evidently, Thor had been correct for once.

"I've just heard the unfortunate news that our waiter has fallen suddenly and inexplicably ill," Loki smirked at her and picked up his fork, "Pity."

"You didn't!"

"I should have done worse. I followed him to the kitchen. He has a foul mouth," he sighed, "If we were in Asgard I might have cut out his tongue for the things he said."

"I shouldn't find that romantic," Jak said, her cheeks bright red, "I should find that horrifying."

Loki's smile grew and he lightly tapped her foot with his under the table. Her eyes widened and she quickly went back to eating her food. He laughed and did the same.

Once they'd finished their meal, it was only seven thirty and they still had an hour before Stark showed up to take them back. Jak suggested that they take a stroll around the small town and see what other businesses were open. Loki could hardly object when she was holding his hand.

"Oh, it looks like they have dancing going on in that bar!"

"I see that," Loki peered through the bar window. It was not the type of dancing he preferred. The music was too loud, the people standing too close to one another, the "dancing" was nothing more than bobbing up and down on the beat.

"That's not really my speed," Jak said, disappointment in her voice, "Oh well, let's keep walking."

They wandered the town, and by the time they had circled back to the bar, the music was much slower and couples were leaning on each other, swaying. Jak watched much more intently now and Loki pulled her toward the door.

"Perhaps it is more your speed now?" He asked as they stepped in.

"Not exactly, but it's better," she nodded.

On the dance floor, he took one of her hands in his and placed his other hand at a respectable position on her back. She jumped slightly, but relaxed after a moment and began swaying in time to the music.

"Doesn't really take much skill, does it?" She chuckled.

"Well, the venue isn't exactly Versaille," Loki teased.

"And the music is… well, Ed Sheeran is no Frank Sinatra, but I suppose he has a nice voice."

"Do you dance to Sinatra?" Loki asked.

"Sometimes, but my favorite to waltz to is Shostakovich. Or Tchaikovsky. Or Schubert."

"What other dances do you know?"

"Foxtrot, a few reels, quickstep, some square dancing, the quadrille, a bit of ballet… oh! And a friend of mine once taught me the Charleston," she thought for a moment, "I'm sure there are more, but I can't think of them at the moment."

"What is the Charleston?" Loki asked, having never heard of such a dance.

"I'd show you, but the music is all wrong."

"Allow me to have a word with the conductor."

"The DJ," she corrected.

"Yes, whoever is in charge of the music," Loki bowed and ducked away to find the "DJ" and request something appropriate for the Charleston. When he found the young woman controlling the music, she had not heard of that type of dance and had no idea what sort of music to play. Loki instead requested a waltz, but she just laughed at him and played a song that soon had the crowd cheering, hooting, and bobbing up and down again. Loki rolled his eyes and went to find Jak.

Except, he couldn't find her.

She wasn't where he'd left her and a quick search showed that she wasn't anywhere in the bar. A sick feeling filled his stomach as he suddenly remembered that there was an assassin after his date.

A note from the author: Long one! I hope you found all of it as fun to read as I found it to write. There's just something special about writing fics where Loki tortures creeps.

Sorry it's been a while! I've been having computer issues and work has been obnoxiously busy! Hopefully, I'll be able to start posting more regularly again.

Minor announcement: I've also started posting this story on AO3! I've been avoiding AO3 for years, but figured it was finally time to get an account. Anything I post on there will, likely, also be posted here, so don't worry about missing anything if you're following me here but don't have an Archive account.

Okie dokie, I'll see you in the next chapter! :D