Unexpected

Balcony Conversation

I slept until noon the next day. I never slept in that late, but when I finally woke up looking all sorts of rough with my hair in tangles and my mouth smacking dryly after apparently sleeping with my mouth open all night, I was ready to get back to work. There was plenty of work to be done anyways. I graciously accepted hot chocolate from Selvig as I sat at the apartment's kitchen table, clicking away determinedly at my laptop until night fell again, my fingers hardly halting as I wrote up reports and answered calls about damages. Jenkins called three times asking for specifics about what state the warehouse that had nearly smushed me had been in before the beast had destroyed it in an attempt to get me.

Having a déjà vu moment of Steve looking confusedly at a laptop as I explained the internet to him, I helped set up a video conference between Director Fury and Thor the day after that. Thor was in Migardian clothes that Jane and Darcy had purchased including a t-shirt, a flannel shirt that he wore opened up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and jeans. His long blond hair was tied back in a ponytail as he greeted Fury with a jovial politeness along with a look of slight distrust. I stood behind Thor, writing down the important details of their conference about Thor's intentions here on earth.

The strike team that I had worked with to fight the frost beast kept in touch, giving me updates on how things were going as they watched and helped remove all traces of the Dark Elves' invasion, leaving no tech or corpses behind. These updates, of course, turned into more paperwork for me, soon making me hate English. I longed for my office back home where I'd spend hours poring over French grammar and Spanish verb conjugations, anything but dry, technical writing in English.

As I suspected, I was informed by Agent Jenkins that I would be called back to the Triskelion by the end of the week; my job in England would be done by then. I sent Steve a text telling him what my flight plan was. Basically, if the pair of us were to see Peggy during her nursing home's visiting hours I would just make it back to my apartment long enough to drop my bag on the floor before Steve and I would head back out again.

Until then, I used the kitchen table as a kind of office as I worked through the week, enjoying my interruptions by Darcy complaining to Ian that she couldn't reach something or Selvig explaining something science-y to me as he worked through his data from the Convergence. Jane and Thor were sort of distracted with each other, which I couldn't blame them for. They're waited to be reunited for about two years after all! It made my heart ache to watch them together, but it was also amusing watching Thor get used to living on Midgard.

Moljnir was hung up on a coat rack by the door along with our winter jackets and umbrellas. The toaster nearly got smashed one morning due to frightening the demigod by shoving his toast out of its slots just a bit too forcefully. He shouted into cellphones seeming to think that the only way anyone could hear him from so far away required him to boom with all the power of his lungs. He also had to learn that since we were not in the huge halls of Asgard, but a small apartment with neighbors, he had to regulate his voice. He seemed to get louder the more excited he got about something. I had to admit though, that Jane, Darcy, and I all enjoyed being greeted with a "Good morning fair maidens," each morning when the demigod awoke.

By the sounds of it he and Jane and the rest of the lot would stay in England for a while longer, finishing up their commitments and science analysis data before they'd be moving back to America. Once they'd returned, it sounded like I would be bringing Thor into S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Triskelion. From there he'd start on his mission to locate Loki's scepter. He referred to it as his quest. I tried to imagine what it would be like to have him strolling through the halls of the Triskelion building. No doubt he would find companionship amongst the raucous strike unit or within the training gym.