Doesn't Play Well With Tricksters

2 - Deceptive Questioning

((This is not the last of the g-rated sections.))

After confining herself in her office for nearly a week, Rachael was more than ready for some major training. Dressed in a comfortable pair of Jean's and a basic black tee shirt, she hastily wrapped her hands and wrists in dark elastic fabric, paying special attention to the base knuckles like her father taught her, as she rushed toward the training room.

Thankfully, the only person in the room when she arrived was Natasha. Rachael nodded a quick greeting and took up a place in front of one of the heavy bags.

As she positioned herself and started jabbing at her make shift opponent, she couldn't help but chastise herself for the wasted week.

She knew better than to let him get to her like that. She never would have let anyone else upset her routine like that. What, in all the possible versions of Hell, had she been thinking?

Of all the stupid, pointless, arrogant-

Just as Rachael was really getting into a rhythm, taking all her frustrations out on the tall, weighted bag, Natasha stepped in.

"Whoa, Tiger. Easy." Natasha eased the bag to a stop. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." Rachael answered, unwrapping her hands to survey the damage she'd done. She was lucky. The skin beneath the extra padding may bruise, but they'd heal in a day or so.

"Picturing anyone in particular?" Natasha asked.

Rachael raised an eyebrow. "Is it that obvious?"

"Just a little."

Rachael rolled her eyes and flexed her fingers.

"So what happened? Did he bewitch someone into doing something horrible? Family killed in New York? Unspoken, unwanted attraction?"

Rachael glared at the last one.

"Then what?" Natasha asked, with raised eyebrows and a hint of a smile.

"Nothing quite that specific, or recent for that matter. More of an ancient family grudge."

"Your family holds grudges against Gods? That doesn't sound smart. "

"Not all Gods. Just the one that cursed generations of us into exile from our homeland." Rachael sighed, flexing her fingers again. "I think I better get some ice on this." She waved a quick goodbye and left before she could say any more.

Loki let the glamour fade as soon as she left the room. His rouse hadn't worked as well as he'd hoped. Not only has she not admitted to the attraction he'd seen flare in her eyes when he followed her into her office, but she didn't tell him why she was avoiding him either.

He certainly didn't remember exiling an entire family.

On the positive side of things, he had confirmed his suspicions where that strange blue crystal was concerned. It was a race specific spell, making it potentially deadly to Asguardians but completely harmless to humans.

Apparently, it didn't work on miniature ice giants either.

He smirked absently, thinking of all the ways he could use her blind side to his advantage.

---

Rachael was sitting at the kitchen counter with a small baggie of ice resting on her right hand when Loki entered, heading straight for the refrigerator.

She stubbornly kept her gaze on her hand, trying to find something interesting in the melting ice, even when he pulled up a chair and sat beside her.

"What have you done to yourself?" He asked, removing the ice to look at her hand.

"It's fine. I just didn't want it to swell." She answered, pulling her hand away.

He scoffed and took hold of her hand, examining her knuckles for anything that might cause lasting damage. "I don't know if you're aware, but I am here to try to make up for the things in my past." He held tight when she tried to pull her hand away again. "I can't make amends if I don't know what I've done to wrong you."

"I don't want your apologies. There is no making amends for things that happened hundreds of years ago. But I don't and can't trust you as far as I could throw you." She took her hand back and massaged the last of the cold away. "After everything you've done, I don't see how anyone could."

"Thor does." Loki answered lamely.

"He's your brother. He's going to strain himself to see the good in you, no matter what you do." She shrugged. "It's what family does."

"Do you not believe people can change?"

"People usually show it when they change, and I don't see you behaving any differently. Even when you go out with the team, you still use the same tricks and manipulations."

"For the good of the mission, only." He countered. "We all use our abilities. Stark with his machinery, Banner with his hulk,-"

"Thor with his lightning and strength." She interupted.

"Yes, and there's Barton, Natasha, who uses non-magical manipulations very similar to mine, Rodgers,-"

"I get your point." She interrupted. "But what do they have to do with you?"

"We work for the same team, do we not?"

"Do you?" She asked pointedly. "You're still new."

"Does that mean I do not deserve a chance to prove myself?" He asked, ignoring the fact that she was just as new as him.

"That means you're still on probation."

He smiled at her witt. "So there is a chance?"

She turned her attention back to her injured hand. "The team's already giving you a chance, and you're lucky for it."

"I think you know that's not what I meant."

She looked him in the eye and shrugged her shoulders. "Sometimes we don't get what we want." She stood up and made to leave.

"Sometimes it's just a matter of admitting it's what we want."

"And sometimes simply wanting something doesn't make it the right choice."