Doesn't Play Well With Tricksters

5 - The Aftermath

Rachael closed and locked the door behind Loki. Then turned to lean against it and close her eyes. What the hell had she been thinking? Why did she let him get close enough to kiss her, let alone let him actually do it?

Okay, so he'd caught her off guard. It was understandable. He is, afterall, the God of manipulation and deceit. It must have been easy for him to turn the situation to his advantage.

That didn't mean she had to like it.

Or obsess over it.

She pushed away from the door and turned toward her computer and the blessing of mind numbing paperwork.

An hour later, she conceded defeat and powered the machine down.

A knock sounded on the door.

"Who is it?" She asked cautiously.

"The owner of the building." Stark answered from the other side, obviously annoyed at finding the door locked.

Rachael laughed and unlocked the door. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Maybe." He pulled a portable hologram system out of his pocket and played footage from the hallway timestamped just over an hour prior to his knock.

In the footage, Loki turned back toward the door as if he were about to say something, only to have the door slam in his face. He then stood staring at the door for a few moments before reaching up to rub the spot on his jaw where her fist had connected just moments before.

"Any thoughts on why the least liked member of our team has been babying his jaw since he left your office today?"

"Short version? I warned him not to, he did, and then I hit him."

"Fair enough. Anything we need to discuss here?"

"I can handle it."

"As evidenced by Loki's jaw."

She nodded.

"As your friend, I say good for you. As a leading member of the team, I should say something else."

"Something like 'don't damage your team members'?"

"Pretty close."

"Duly noted."

"So, do you want to tell me what happened?"

Rachael sighed and leaned back against her desk. "He kissed me."

Stark's eyebrows arched toward his hairline. "And you decked him?"

"Yes. I did."

"Wait-" Stark gave her a confused look. "Why did he think that was a good idea?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Apparently, he thinks I like him."

"Do you?"

She rolled her eyes and walked past Stark to go find the thousand year old baby in question.

She found him in the library, absently rubbing his jaw while reading a book that looked about as old as he was. She crossed to him, tore the book from his hand and turned his chin to take a look at her handiwork.

"Hello to you too." He quipped.

She would have rolled her eyes again, but she was too busy looking at the lightly bruised skin. It wasn't that bad. The bruise was barely noticible.

She patted it and told him, "Stop babying it. It's not that bad."

"Is that why you interrupted my reading? To insult and hit me again?"

"I was told you were treating it like it might be broken. It should be fine. No permanent damage. Except, maybe, to your ego."

"Permanent damage there, definitely."

"I warned you."

"That you did," He answered, leaning back to watch her face when he continued. "I can't promise not to make the same mistake again."

"I can't promise not to slug you again." She answered, a feeling she refused to acknowledge or analyze fluttering in her stomach.

"Duly noted." He smiled, wondering if there were possibilities there after all.

Rachael nodded and stood to leave him to his book.

He watched her leave, slowly rethinking his plan. It was now obvious she was, at least somewhat attracted to him. That momentary flicker of awareness before she shot him down again was enough to convince him.

She was fighting it like he was infected with the black plague, but she wanted him. Now he just had to convince her to overlook whatever it was she was holding against him.

---

That night, Frigga visited him again. They sat in the dining hall of the palace, the table full of all his favorite breakfast dishes, but not one plate to be found, no matter how many times he called for a servant to bring them.

"You look frustrated, my son." Frigga smiled at him knowingly. "Perhaps you should talk about it."

"I will be fine." He answered, sending yet another auburn haired servant girl toward the kitchen.

"Please." Frigga added.

The girl glared for a moment before dropping a curtsey and going about her duties.

"Sometimes a gentle word is worth more than a thousand commands." Frigga commented as the girl returned with a plate for Frigga but nothing for him.

He sat back, crossed his arms across his chest and waited for another lecture.

She sighed, as if already tired of the conversation before it started. "You know you could come home right now if you weren't so stubborn."

He blinked, confused by the abrupt change in conversation. "What do you mean?"

A half dozen servants came and started clearing the suddenly empty platters from the table.

Frigga pursed her lips in agitation. "We never have enough time to talk about the important things."

The sky outside the dining hall started growing dark, signaling the end of the day.

Strange. Weren't they just having breakfast?

"Listen, darling." Frigga commanded, "You know I could not have loved you more, even if I had given you life. Sometimes it's what we choose to do and feel that makes the biggest impact."

Loki realized it was all a dream as the world around him faded to black, taking her from him once again.

He sat up in the paltry quarters he occupied on this second rate world, remembering the lavish suite waiting for him on Asgard.

The longer he stayed on this planet, the more he missed the comforts of home.