The Science of Mischief

Chapter One

She wasn't drunk enough to forget the man whom she had recently broken up with, but she was apparently drunk enough to see his dead brother standing
half in the shadows, staring at her from across the busy bar.

She laughed to herself when she first saw him, thinking shehad finally lost it altogether, but that laughter quickly dissipated when he started walking across the room in her direction. She looked around at the crowd, wondering if anyone else had noticed the tall, pale, shifty figure clad entirely in an eccentric leather outfit moving towards her like a hunter about to attack its prey, but no; no one else was paying him any mind. 

As he approached her, she began to panic and did the first irrational thing that popped into her mind. Reaching for her half empty glass of scotch, she turned just in time to douse his face with the liquid. 

"Hello Miss Foster," Loki said in a low growl, smirking as he wiped the drink off his face with the back of his hand. "Why, you look like you've seen a ghost."

Jane laughed again and then stopped, covering her mouth in sudden disbelief. She searched his face over for a moment, looking hard up and down at every detail of his figure, trying to come to terms with the reality of the deceased man clearly standing before her. The anxiety soon left her face, and she shook her head assuredly as though she had just reached a very important conclusion.  "You're dead. I saw you die."

"My, my, that dress on you...," he tested her, looking her over and slowly licking his lips with feigned desire.

He didn't have time to look long before a hand came across his face, striking him hard. Loki laughed the first genuine laugh he had in quite some time. She could certainly pack a punch, much to his amusement.

"See?" he said, rubbing the side of his face and then opening him arms out to her. "Very much alive."

Jane's heart sank at the feeling of his raw flesh beneath her fingers. He wasn't dead. Either that or she was in the middle of a horrific nightmare she'd rather not be in. "Does he know?"

"Who?" Loki asked dumbly, looking around playfully.

"THOR, does THOR know you're alive?"

"I'm afraid not."

"You selfish bastard," she said simply, shaking her head and looking up at him in disbelief. She looked as though she were about to hit him again or burst into tears. "You destroyed him."

"And you didn't?"

"H- how did you know?"

"So it's true then. The god of thunder and the mortal woman of science are finally no more. Pray tell, where can I find that lumbering oaf?"

"Get away from me," she stepped back from him, turning back to the bar. "I have nothing to say to you. But tell me, tell me one thing - how is it that one of the most infamous terrorists this city has ever seen is just casually standing in the middle of a crowded bar without a single soul giving a damn?"

"No one else can see me."

"So it looks like I'm talking to myself right now?"

"Afraid so."

"Lovely," she muttered, turning back to the bar in hopes that her second drink had arrived. It had. She threw it back without further thought, raising her eyebrows and nodding enthusiastically when the bartender asked if she'd be needing another. 

"Might I have a word in private?" Loki whispered a little too close to her ear, rubbing his fingers against his lips pensively. He hoped she would come quietly.

"I'm meeting someone," she said forcefully, turning back around and trying to ignore him, but Loki grabbed her by the arm and brought her back around to face him.