Doesn't Play Well With Tricksters

8 - I Won't Say It

Rachael paced circles around her office, silently barrading herself for what had happened in the city.

Yes, they'd secured the weapons.

Yes, they'd all returned in one piece, aside from a few bruises and burns.

She just couldn't stop thinking of how the group had singled her out and separated her from the team. As if they knew it would distract the rest to know she, the weakest of the team,  was nowhere to be found.

While she couldn't say their adversaries had been successful in their attempt, after all they did lose a large cashe of weapons, but they definitely found a weak link in the team's armor.

Her.

Just as she was about to throw something across the room in frustration, the door slammed open.

"We need to talk." Loki closed the door behind him.

She nodded, content to let him go first.

"You can't go on missions with us anymore. You're too much of a distraction."

She bristled. It was one thing for her to see the problem, but for him to so bluntly say it?

He immediately back pedaled. "It's not that you can't handle yourself. You obviously can. By the time I showed up, you already had three of them down, and that's without your magic."

She learned back against the top of her desk, letting her anger ebb. "But how much good am I to the team if I just add to the problem?" She motioned vaguely towards the computer behind her. "I watched the bodycam footage. Things got sloppy when everyone realized I wasn't close by."

"Because you don't have an intercom."

"That's no excuse. You don't have one either."

"No, but Stark installed a tracking device in my armor, so they always know where I am. And the rest of the team are equipped with transmitters. At the very least, you should have one as well."

"That's just it though. I'm a fill in, not part of the core team."

"I don't see why. With your magic-"

"That's just it, I don't use my magic. Not in the field anyway."

"Why not? You have plenty of power, judging just from the crystals you installed. Why not use it?"

She sighed deeply, knowing there was no way to sidestep the question this time. "This magic is new. To me anyway. It's been passed down through the family for over four hundred years, usually from mother to daughter. I'm the exception. My adopted aunt, who was actually a distant cousin until my grandmother took her in, found out where they came from and did everything she could to expel them from her body. She ended up dying in the effort, but not before she bound her daughter's magic. Since I was the only other person in the house when she died, they settled into me."

"How long have you had them?"

"About three years. Long enough to learn protection spells and a few other tricks, but not long enough for magical combat."

"I'll teach you."

Her eyes shot up to his, fear clearly shining from them.

"I don't see any other alternative, do you?"

"Other than transferring to another unit-"

"No."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Excuse me?"

"You're not going anywhere. Out of the question."

"What makes you think you have a say in the matter?"

He turned toward her, his eyes flashing red for a moment so brief she almost thought she imagined it. "We can find a solution that doesn't involve you running around with another team, risking your life where none of us can help you." He turned towards the door. "Surely being taught how to use your talents is not the worst decision you could make."

"Nah, I can think of another one." She grumbled under her breath.

"Oh, and one other thing." He turned back and was leaning over her in the blink of an eye. "If you decide to visit that tech-savvy friend of yours again, I will be going with you. His manners need a little fine tuning."

She blinked stupidly at him. "Abrupt change of subject, but okay. I won't be visiting him any time soon, but I would appreciate the backup."

"Backup is not exactly what I would call it."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't blow it out of proportion. Yes, he was out of line, but I put him in his place and he knows not to try again."

He smirked. "Speaking of trying again." He leaned in closer, closing the distance between them with his eyes on her mouth.

"Not a good idea, Loki." She reminded him, pushing a hand into his chest to keep him from moving any closer.

"I love the way my name sounds on your lips." He placed his hands on the desk she was leaning against and pressed in closer, making her heart race. "Say it again."

"Back up," she whispered, appalled by the breathless tone to her voice.

"What do you really want?" He asked, his mouth hovering a hair's breadth from hers. "All you have to do is say it."

"I want you to back up, Loki." She answered, hearing the tremble in her voice for exactly what it was; an obvious sign she was lying. "I don't want to hit you again."

"Then don't."

She swallowed the sudden thickness in her throat. "Don't make me."

He sighed and lay his forehead against hers. "One day, little one. One day you will grow weary of denying what you really want. When that happens, and I hope to the very bowels of all nine realms that day is soon, I will take my time showing you everything you've been missing. Not to mention savoring every passion filled moan you make along the way."

She closed her eyes and let his words fill her thoughts. She was past the point of plausible deniability. She wanted him. Not just his velvet words that could coax the most prudish, nun-like woman to behave like a complete harlot. Not just the witty banter they shared. Him. The entire statuesque god of mischief himself.

She wanted him in her arms, in her bed, in her.

She steeled her shoulders and opened her eyes to see him watching her face for the tiniest sign she was giving in to the temptation he offered.

"Don't hold your breath."