Gwendolyn Porter (Avengers Fanfiction)

Chapter One: Dont Flatter Yourself

I stand beside him, watching him work. I have to admit, whatever this is, it's complicated. I always knew he was clever, but smart never really popped into my head. He always uses magic or his silver tongue to get what he wants, the thought he could physically make things never occurred to me. But I should have known, this guys a surviver, he does what he needs to live. Can't say I don't admire that.

"Small henchman!" My intense stare is interrupted.

I jump slightly and instantly I'm bugged. "I'm standing right beside you," I scowl.

Not only is the fact he yelled out for me when I'm next to him the worst, but also the name "henchman." First off, it's freaking annoying. Second, why should henchman be the go to? I may be his assistant but I'm no man. It's insulting, and really ticks me off.

He looks to the side and stares at me, frowning. "That you are. You're so minuscule I couldn't even sense your presence," he says nonchalantly, turning back to his work.

I roll my eyes, I know that isn't true. The 'sensing presence' part not the short part, I know I'm short.

"It's better than being a lamppost," I mutter.

He looks over to me slowly with a challenged expression on his face, he smirks slightly then once again turns back to his work.

I half expected some kind of snarky remark, but the silence is greatly appreciated.

All of a sudden the table begins to shake and the project Loki is working on begins to smoke.

He growls under his breath before putting his arms around me and jumping away. We hit the ground with a thud and I cough from both the smoke and the air being knocked out of me.

As I open my eyes I see Loki resting on his hands above me, using his body as a shield. He isn't looking at me, which, you know, I'm grateful for. Him being this close to me makes my cheeks warm up. He moves his knee closer and pushes himself up so he could sit. As he does, he dusts off his hands and shirt.

I sit up and lean on my elbows. "What the heck was that about?" I ask.

He glares at the table that was now broken in half. "A miscalculation," he replies coolly. "Stupid Midgardian technology," he mutters, standing up.

I tilt my head and look at him. "I meant you tackling me to the ground."

He looks up from dusting his pants with an amused eyebrow raised. "Oh please, don't flatter yourself," he scoffs. "If you blew up it would have made a mess. I don't feel like cleaning blood off my walls."

I let out a breath and chuckle, classic Loki. "Mhm," I hum, nodding my head and raising myself off the ground. "So what're you going to do about the contraption?"

"Start over of course," he replies easily while walking to his tool chest.

I choose now to question what he creates. It leaves my mind at peace.

I roll my eyes, "Well, if you think you can live without me for a couple hours I'm gonna go get dinner."

He scoffs and looks at me with a raised eyebrow. "I've lived without you for centuries, mortal. I think I can last a couple hours."

"Yes and in those centuries you have managed to anger about two whole civilizations, but sure you can live without me."

He knows exactly what I am talking about, so he correctly chooses not to say a word.

I expected as much. "Yeah, just don't blow up the evil lair, mkay?"

He rolls his eyes and turns back to his work. He probably wishes I didn't, but I saw the smile on his face.