An Unexpected Intruder

Well.

That had been fun.

It seemed that Loki's luck had gone from bad, to worse, to unbearably worse. Ever since he'd left Asgard for Xandar, things had barely gone his way, and if they had, it had been by pure accident. Not to mention the fact that he'd ended up in the worst possible part of Midgard in his attempt to hide from his idiot brother. The very city he'd led an attack against was now, apparently, his sanctuary.

This was not Loki's week.

How in Hel was he supposed to recover his strength if his sworn enemies kept sneaking up on him like this? Could they perhaps tell he was vulnerable? Well, he wasn't about to let it happen again. For all he knew, Thor would be the next not-so-friendly face to grace his presence. He had to hide. He'd recovered a little while hunkered down in a filthy alleyway after his run in with Barton, but he hadn't been able to stand being there more than a few hours.

As soon as morning had come, he'd started looking elsewhere. Without Midgardian currency, Loki thought the chances slim that he'd be able to secure a room at a hotel. He'd observed that they required some ability to pay upfront, and Loki doubted very highly that they'd accept Asgardian gold. Best not to even bother. He'd taken shelter in a bar for a while, sitting in the back, while busty waitresses brought him alcohol. Weak, at least compared to Asgardian ale and wine, but it was better than sitting there not drinking anything.

Honestly, Loki was surprised they hadn't ejected him, looking as dirty as he did. He'd stowed his long coat in the tattered bag he'd been able to retrieve from Xandar, which helped his appearance a bit, as the coat was filthier than the rest of him. It helped, also, that he'd borrowed the bar's washroom to clean his hair in the sink. He needed a bath, after all he'd been through, but that required him to find a means of lodging until he was able to move on.

Leaving a few gold pieces on the table, he took his bag and left. The afternoon light that had illuminated the street when he'd entered the bar had been replaced by the dark clouds of a coming storm. Loki was unwilling to bed down in another alleyway if the storm did indeed decide to loose itself upon the city, and so he started his search for accomodation. It took him hours to find his way around (so much easier seeing his way around the city from a Chitauri skiff than it was on foot), and he'd climbed several fire escapes before he found an unlocked window. The first drops of rain had started to fall when he'd managed to get it open.

Through the crack, he could hear signs of life in the apartment, and it was only through sheer luck that the doorbell distracted the occupant. Likely some Midgardian prankster, but he was thankful for the distraction, as it allowed him to push the window open further to climb in. His boot caught on something, however, and the resulting commotion did exactly what he was afraid it would.

The voice came closer, and Loki held up his hands, showing them to be empty. "I mean you no harm," he said softly. His hand itched to retrieve his dagger from the sheath at his back as his eyes landed on the object in her hand.

What in Odin's name was with everyone pulling a weapon on him? And threatening him? Loki would make short work of any police this woman called, but he thought that would only terrify her more. He was not in any mood to deal with such things, and so he decided, out of a sense of self-preservation and not exhausting the strength he'd managed to recover, to go along with her ridiculous demands.

"I am Loki, and I seek only shelter from the storm."

"I swear it," he told her, and waited in silence until she offered her hand to help him up. His tattered bag, one long tail of his coat hanging out, had slid down to the crook of his elbow, and once he'd taken her aid and rose to his full height, he shifted the bag back to his shoulder.

Her name wasn't familiar to him, but any chance of that meaning he was in no danger flew out the window at her reaction to hearing his name. Damn. The ensuing onslaught of questions led him to think that the young woman before him had no need to breathe. When finally, blissfully, she went silent, Loki let out a heavy breath.

"In answer to your first question," he started, raising a hand to gesture to the window, "you should probably not leave your windows unlocked. Or block your escape route," he added, glancing at the mess in front of the window. If the path out of the window had been clear to allow access to the fire escape he'd used to gain entry, his presence would have gone undetected for at least a few moments longer.

"You heard..." he paused, blinking slowly in shock. Everyone on Midgard had to know it was he who had been responsible for the attack. He wouldn't be safe anywhere in this realm, he realized. The last place in the galaxy anyone expected him to retreat to, and he couldn't even take shelter here.

"I don't care what you've heard from my brother," he snapped before taking a breath. He'd managed to gain sanctuary in Darcy's apartment, and he wasn't keen on getting himself kicked out because of his issues with his brother. "I am here for my own reasons," he finally answered.

"Clearly, Jane Foster was mistaken," he told her, fighting to keep his voice even. Of course, he had to find a mortal who was associated with his brother's mortal lover. Never mind that Loki rather approved of her firey spirit and determination, and grudgingly admitted to himself that she made his older brother happy. "If I was dead, I would not be standing here."

Loki shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, fully aware of his crimes against Midgard and his current state of disarray.

"Perhaps any further interrogation can wait until I've had a chance to clean up? You wouldn't happen to have any clothes I can borrow?" He hated having to ask, but he'd been unable to procure proper Midgardian clothing, and he lacked the magic at present to glamor himself something out his current wardrobe.

Loki had to fight the desire to roll his eyes. A door? Of course he was aware that there was a door. He'd heard some prankster ring the bell as he was breaking in. It appeared she was quite serious, however, and so he decided that he couldn't ignore the question, however much he wanted to.

"You do realize," he started, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he turned her words back on her, "that defeats the purpose of sneaking in. I wasn't expecting to get caught." Gods he hated Midgard. Even more so now that he knew how widespread his infamy was. Were all Midgardians he came across going to test his patience this way? It struck him, not for the first time since entering the forested pathway on Asgard that he would have been better off stealing a cloak and hiding in his bedchambers until he'd recovered enough to reclaim his disguise, and the throne with it.

Too late for that now.

"Yes, I'll remember that," he snarled. This was all kinds of humiliating. Standing, covered in the dirt of the transport ship that had brought him from Vanaheim to Xandar and back, the grass stains on his trousers from hitting the brush-strewn floor under the trees in the park, and the grime from the alleyway he'd taken shelter in the previous night, with the scents of the bar still clinging to his clothing, in an apartment he'd failed to break into unnoticed, wanted for war crimes and in the company of a mortal who was familiar with his older brother.

This week, nay, this night, could get no worse. Until it did. A shudder ran through him as a crack of thunder broke overhead, followed seconds later by a flash of lightning. He followed when she left the room, glancing around at her home. Not exactly the sort of furnishings he was used to, but he hardly expected the lavishness of his royal accommodations in a mortal's chambers. Curiously, he watched her. After learning that all of Earth knew his name, a mortal who stood fearless in his presence was disconcerting to say the least.

He supposed he should be grateful that she hadn't tried to murder him yet.

"Thor does not frighten me," he said, gritting his teeth through another crash of thunder. "Annoy would be the more appropriate term." Her mention of the green monstrosity sent another violent shudder through him. The beast had surprised him with the damage he'd inflicted. Loki hadn't thought that any creature of Midgard could hurt him in such a way. He knew at least two of his ribs had been cracked and his ankle broken in that encounter. "Do not mention that name again, or I promise you that you will never speak again." His hand itched again to grab his dagger, but he resisted.

Her offer of a room and clothes eased him somewhat, and he followed her, peering into the room as the light came on. He took a step inside and leaned against the wall, raising a leg to remove a boot. He dropped the boot to the floor, and had moved to remove its twin when she spoke again. "I suppose," he replied to her question, and then when the next one came, he allowed a light smile to cross his face. An interesting question, not one he expected, certainly.

This mortal was full of surprises, he was finding.

"By your standards of measurement, six feet and two inches." He dropped the other boot and let his green woolen socks breathe before removing them. Not exactly as fragrant as he preferred to be, but that would change soon, he hoped.

Loki snarled at her comments. She'd seriously taunt him for the sole purpose of annoying him? Did she have any idea who she was dealing with? Finding it fun to torment him... While it was true that Loki derived some enjoyment from poking fun at others, he knew where to draw a line. He didn't kick people while they were down, unless he really hated them.

"No, I do not mean Thor," he snapped viciously, his eyes flashing with malice. It was getting harder and harder to resist the desire to wrap his fingers around his dagger's hilt and free the blade to do its work. His green eyes narrowed, dark with anger. "I wish you would not... 'mess with me'..." he told her, his voice low and dangerous.

"What would I do to you?" he repeated. "What would I do? Oh, no. Jane Foster will not weep for your death, mortal. Do you know why she will not weep for you? Because I will not kill you. I carry with me a dagger at all times, and I will use it to remove your tongue." She threatened him with her weapon and he only smiled a dangerous grin in response. "I will cut your hands off as well. You can't use that weapon with no hands, can you? I think, Miss Darcy, you will find that I. Am. Not. My. Brother." He practically spat the words at her.

How he hated being compared to Thor! How dare this mortal woman even think that he'd go down that easy. Odin's Beard, this was frustrating.

Oh, what was she blathering about now?! Loki let his head fall back against the wall with a thump. How could she just stand there still talking? He could barely stand the smell emanating from his socks, yet here she was, seemingly oblivious to the smell of stale sweat, wet wool and the filth of a New York alleyway that still clung to him, to say nothing of the smoke and alcohol smell of the bar.

"Do you ever stop talking?" he growled, leveling a dark glare at her. "What stupid questions you ask me. Do I know how to use a shower? Let me tell you this, mortal." Finally, he pushed away from the wall and stared her down, his eyes narrowing to slits. "My world is millenia beyond yours in every way. We had running water for showers while your forefathers were still washing laundry in the same river they drew their bathwater from! We had warm water at our fingertips while Earthlings were still heating theirs on a fire! How dare you talk down to me as if I am a child!"

The dagger finally flew free from its sheath, his fingers wrapped tightly around the hilt. "I am a god, you simple girl, and you will not treat me as a child! I am centuries older than you! If anyone in this room is a child, it is you!"

There went his temper. He was rather impressed at himself for keeping it reined in as long as he had. After everything he'd been through in the last few days, he'd just snapped. Loki found that he didn't care whether the girl before him was frightened or not.

She would learn her place. Loki would see to that.