So, this story is going to be short. I only intend for it to have no more than 5 or 6 chapters. I also intend to finish it. It's more of an experiment for me, really, so I can delve a bit into my favorite characters' relationship. It's also a bit of therapy based on the events that have happened in the MCU.

This takes place before Ragnarok and will quickly fast forward.

No fear, readers of my WIP, The Lionheart. I have merely fallen out of writing such a dark plot and only wish to indulge myself and soon I shall return to finish that.

Small warning, however: this is going to get very adult very fast. Like I said, I'm experimenting.

I'd very much appreciate your thoughts, so if you'd be kind enough to review whether it be constructive or otherwise, then please do so. You have no idea how much they mean to me and any writer.

-The Phantom's Flutist

Part One:

Deals with the Devil

December 4, 2015

London, England

It all started with two knocks on Jane's door.

Jane hadn't been expecting anyone that day. In fact, Jane rarely expected anyone visiting her quaint London flat save for the occasional salesman or one of Erik's colleagues. However, Erik had moved out months ago and Darcy followed shortly after. Thor didn't knock, but she's pretty sure she broke up with him last time. Maybe? It's a blur.

She even contemplated ignoring the knock. She typically would if she hadn't been expecting anyone and she wasn't the most agile in awkward social situations such as harboring small talk with a salesman or Jehovah's Witness.

It's funny how snap decisions, such as moving to New Mexico, or venturing into an abandoned storage facility, would change a life. To be fair, Jane's had a fair share of snap decisions that have changed her life vastly and she'd like to say the freakishly, abnormal ones she's placed into her past and she's far more interested in reaping the benefits while staying momentarily out of harm's way.

She wouldn't have imagined that answering a knock on the door would have been the next event.

She gripped the handle. Turned.

Stupidly, she didn't even glance through the peephole – a classic move by one who was used to living on their own. Who knows what's on the other side? Axe murderers, rapists... a classic thought for any paranoid, agile, single woman. But Jane didn't have her coffee that morning. Perhaps, if she did, she wouldn't have opened that door.

Because what stood on the other side was perhaps worse than any classic villain who occupied the streets of any big city.

Who stood on the other side wasn't supposed to be standing at all, in fact.

"What the hell?"

Her eyes met with a chest, at first before they traveled up slowly to meet with two emerald orbs that sparkled down at her, surrounded by pale skin with an unruly strand of raven black hair hanging in front of his face.

"Hello to you, too, Jane Foster."

Thud.

The door slammed immediately.

Nope. No. Nadda. She just got out of this mess. She thought she washed her hands of this.

Knock, knock.

She cringed. She thought she left crazy behind months ago. Now she was seeing dead people.

Grip, turn, pull.

He had moved such that he was leaning against the door frame, his lanky arms crossed across his chest and a perfectly white-toothed grin stretched across his face. The exact shit-eating grin Jane could remember shining down to her the next second after she slapped it, injuring her own hand more than she likely injured his face. He slithered through the door easily enough that if she tried slamming it in his face again, she would likely be stopped by some part of him. Though she doubted it would hurt him in the slightest.

"That wasn't very kind." His grin disappeared, but amusement still twinkled in his eyes.

"You can't be here," she hissed, glancing down the hall for any neighbors who might be entering, trying to restrain her voice so that she also didn't make anyone take notice for that matter. Everyone who has been alive in the past four years would know exactly who Loki was and what he looked like.

It's not everyday someone tries to conquer an entire world with an army of aliens.

"But I am here."

She looked at him disbelievingly before taking his arm and yanking him through the door and slamming it shut behind her. She couldn't risk anyone seeing him. Her career would be over.

"You're supposed to be dead. I watched you die. How the hell are you here? Does Thor know? Did he send you here? How are you real right now and why are you here?"

"So many questions, Dr. Foster," he chuckled, his hands spreading out in what looked to be mock-surrender. "Surely you don't believe I'll answer all of those."

Jane wasn't going to play this game. She was tired. She was packing. She had a million other things in her life than to be privy to the affairs of these ridiculous, dramatic gods' lives, especially not one who was supposed to be dead.

"I'm not doing this anymore," she said dryly, her hand drifting to place itself on the door, pushing it to shut, though it wasn't moving due to his own hand.

"Has Thor not returned?" Loki asked, a single brow raising like it does – she wondered why they were so easily isolated and also wondered how they could be so expressive with just a stupid little movement.

"No."

"Oh?"

"I'm not talking about this with you. I'm more interested in how you're alive and why you're here of all places?"

"I felt like I should be," he stated simply, swerving her question with what was impeccably vague. His thin lips twisted into a grin as he looked down his nose to her. "Will you invite me in?"

Jane looked over the man. He was dressed in what looked to be business formal clothing – all black from head to toe with a single sort of green on his tie. It was, indeed, Loki.

She clenched her teeth together. She shouldn't. She knew there was nothing good to come of Loki – it was a lesson learned to be learned time and time again.

But if there was anything Jane enjoyed, it would be figuring out complicated things – astrophysics, puzzles, books, languages…. People. And Loki was complicated.

Ever since parting The Dark World, her mind would drift to why… Why did he save her? Why did he do anything? Why did he even agree?

Who was Loki, anyway?

"Jane?"

She snapped out of it, her eyes seeming to remain on the sea-green orbs of his. They were not so malicious.

"Fine," she huffed, opening the door wider. "But don't touch anything. I'm packing."

"Sweden, right?"

"How did you know?"

"I've been around," he stated, simply, his dress shoes clicking against the hardwood floors of her flat as they meandered in, his eyes looking from wall to wall. "I believe it's called the Nobel Prize, no?"

"Yes," Jane confirmed, her eyes narrowing as he glanced at a picture frame on her wall, before they stared back at her, appraising her – looking right through her as they did.

"And Thor hasn't returned?"

Jane bit the inside of her cheek at the mention. Open wound, still.

"I'm not talking about my relationship with Thor to you, thanks."

He hummed, his nostrils flaring. "I didn't ask you. I only asked if he returned."

"He hasn't. He's busy."

"He turned down the throne – what is he busy with?"

"Other things. I'm busy, too."

"Looks like it."

"Look, I didn't ask for you to come and question my antics."

"I don't believe I've questioned you at all, so obviously this is still very personal for you."

Jane's fingernails tore into the flesh of her palms in anxiety – a bad habit.

"Why are you here then?" She pressed impatiently, her hands gesturing wildly. "We're not friends. This isn't a friendly visit. This isn't 'oh, hey, Jane, I'm not dead, so I thought I'd stop in and say hi.' So what?"

He chuckled at her dramatic display. Jane wasn't sure she's ever heard him laugh, but it was a weird sound.

"I don't suppose you'd believe anything I have to tell you."

"You're not wrong. But even you wouldn't have a total bullshit answer, would you?"

He chuckled again – she amused him. She pinpointed that chuckle to something like people would enjoy if they found something their dog did to be cute. His eyes were alit with amusement, his grin itched into dimples. It would be contagious and endearing if she wasn't so gosh darn anxious about the fact he was a war criminal who she watched die not but a couple years ago.

"Thor doesn't know I'm alive – you are the only one who knows as of today."

Jane was befuddled. Mostly because he trusted her with this information for some reason. Her jaw hung down slightly.

"Why me?"

His grin disappeared slightly. "Because it would seem you are the only one I can go to."

"You trust me that I won't run off to SHIELD. You know they still fund me, right?"

"Hmm, I know," He said nonchalantly. "I have means in the case you decide to do so."

Her eyes widened – she wouldn't ask him to elaborate on the "means" he had. She would imagine them not being quite settling.

"You're saying you trust me?"

Loki's eyes narrowed this time. "Trust" didn't seem to be the most well-placed term.

"Perhaps," he said, idly, turning away this time. "Being dead bores me, Jane Foster. It is truly mind-numbing to be something you are not. You are the only one I believed would not expose me should I ask them not to."

Jane's lips contorted in what was deep thought at his words. Jane knew little of Loki's personal relationships – she knew he did not share Thor's friends, and she knew his relationship with Thor was always dancing at the tip of a knife from ending. Beyond that, why would he elect her? Doesn't he have friends? Other lovers? Extended family?

Maybe not.

At least, no one he deemed worthy to expose his existence to, after Asgard likely mourned him, after Thor shed tears on the end of her bed, facing away from her.

He had to be at least over a thousand years old. To have so few people to trust that he'd go to a human was…

Well, it was…

Sad.

Jane's eyes softened and her lips eased from their pursing at the small realization that Loki also was a person rather than some distant figure that seemed to be antagonistic to Thor and her relationship with him – well, as well as her world. And Erik.

She knew nothing about him beyond what Thor has spoken, and she realized the small tidbit of information seemed to be rather…

Sad.

And her life was also… sad.

"Jane?" Loki's hand was waving in front of her face. "Hello?"

"Sorry," She said, color returning to her cheeks.

He hummed in response again, the sound of his feet clicking through the hardwood as he looked through her living room idly.

He didn't seem to like what he saw. She didn't blame him.

Her books were thrown this way and that, her unfolded laundry – dirty and clean - was amiss from her couch trailing to her room. Cords from various computers were tangled in the corners. Her television was on the box it came in on. Her suitcase was stuffed but not shut.

Jane had been traveling more than actually living. Her candidacy for the Nobel Prize threw her life into even more chaos, and she couldn't blame Thor for not wanting to tag along. She was in one part of the world one week and the next, she was in another, giving speeches and lectures at universities who ate up her work, when only a couple years prior they had tossed it aside.

Perhaps she owed it to Loki. Without his attempting to conquer her world, she would never have found such success.

"You seem to have a habit of disappearing."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Exactly. I have spoken to you the past couple of minutes and you've likely heard none of it," Loki had paused in his travels about her living room, his hands folding in front of him.

"You have?"

He gave her an odd look. He moved to sit on her couch, waving a hand and a pile of clothes had disappeared before he sat and crossed his legs.

"Hey!" She said, finally realizing what it was he just did. "Those were my clothes. Where'd they go?"

He wasn't amused. "In your room, Jane. Where I think they belonged.

"Uhm, rude. Okay," She said, sitting on the rugged La-Z-Boy chair Erik had given her when he moved out. "Sorry, I didn't expect company."

He made another noise. If she didn't know any better, she'd say he wasn't a man of many words, full of grunts and disapproving noises. But she did know a bit better, at least, to know he didn't shut up without good reason.

By the way he looked down his nose to his folded hands, he wasn't the quite same man who openly mocked her and Thor and all those who came in contact with him in the couple of hours she knew him.

Maybe he was truthful. Maybe he was bored. Maybe he was just as lonely as she was.

"Perhaps, Jane, we could help each other out," He said, plucking up some crumb from beneath him before flicking it away from him, his upper lip curling in disgust.

"By the looks of it you want to become my maid."

He wasn't amused by that, either.

"You seem to be just as bored," he noted.

"Bored?" She scoffed. "Don't you know what the Nobel prize is? I earned that. My research –"

"Your research has already been published, has it not? You've been accepted. You will travel there, give a speech and then what?"

She was a bit flustered with how much he seemed to know of her. The heat returned to her cheeks. How did he know? What has he been doing?

"There's still more to accomplish."

"Not here," He said simply, looking up to her. "Not with your science. You require something more. And I can give that to you."

Jane sputtered. "What? What more? How do you know?"

His lids fluttered as he seemed to restrain whatever impatience pressed forth, his hands unfolding to toy with the fabric of the couch, tap, tap, tapping away at some unheard rhythm.

"Your science only covers the mechanics of the world – an explanation for how things are and how they work. It only touches upon the surface of what can be discovered for a scientist in your line of work. Eventually, your science will become theoretical again. It will become outlandish. But I know what you long for – I have the means to fill in the blanks."

Jane's attention was peeled to him again. He had only been here for a moment and she was already orbiting his existence.

"Explain," She demanded.

He grinned – wider than ever before. "Ah." A long, slender digit raised. "Well, that is where our deal comes in."

Her teeth ground into her jaw. Shit. Now, he's got her ensnared. She crossed her arms. "Go on."

"Allow me to keep you company. Allow me the satisfaction of knowing another being for now. No questions asked. Keep my secret for me. In return, I will pay for your generosity with knowledge you perhaps will never reach without me."

She shifted in her seat. Was that it? He just wanted company? Surely there's more to it than that.

"Hasn't any unsuspecting human known to never make a deal with the devil? Surely it will be more than they asked for," She huffed. Her arms crossing across her chest, mirroring his own movement of the same way. "Is that it? My company and secrecy in exchange for knowledge? A whole universe is at your disposal – a universe that thinks you dead. And you just want to have my company?"

"Am I not allowed to have simple desires?"

"Having God of Mischief and Lies as a title doesn't exactly spell out 'simple.'"

"Very well. You don't have to believe me. But surely, ignoring my lies from what could be truth is enough to justify your longing to complete your life's work. That is, if I have managed to pin you down successfully. If not, then I am sadly mistaken and I will depart."

Jane wanted to say that yes, she wasn't that desperate. She wanted to lie to him and tell him she's not interested – especially because of whose tongue will be spilling those secrets of the universe.

"What if Thor returns?" She said – it was silly, actually. To be holding out for a man who was uncontainable.

Loki's face hardened at the name.

"Then I'd hope you keep to your end of the bargain."

"That's hardly fair to him," She said. "You might have been a total asshole, but Thor obviously knew you as much more. You didn't have to put up with his depression. I don't think I've ever seen a grown man cry so much."

Loki's face continued to be unreadable, stolid, and unchanging - especially faced with what was likely his own side of the family drama that haunted him, too.

Jane still didn't know all the details.

"My request remains unchanged," He said suddenly, his statuesque expression cracking only slightly to expose impatience. "I have no desire to speak with you on such matters. If that is what bars you from your pursuit, then I pity you for having such sentiment upon things you do not understand. Especially for a man who has not spoken nor seen you in months.

"Now, I ask you, Jane – is this a bargain you have interest in? I do not wish to waste further time and certainly not at the expense of my embarrassment."

Jane knew this was wrong. This was everything she was told not to do.

But she was just as lonely as he was, apparently. She wasn't sure how many more times she could handle spending a day in the lab alone, talking to herself. She was distanced from society since Erik and Darcy left and soon what's left of her social graces will wither away to nothing

He had a feasible request, disregarding who and what he was.

"Well?" He pressed. Tap, tap, tap.

"What if I wake up and decide that I don't want this... arrangement?"

His shoulders squared back, the corners of his lips cracking the mold and curling upwards.

"As I said, I have measures of protection for myself and… you."

"And they are?"

His grin grew.

"Did I use up my question limit for the day?"

He chuckled.

"Perhaps. Is that a 'yes,' Jane?"

"This is a conditioned yes."

"And your conditions?"

"I can change my mind. Obviously, I can't think straight. I'm about to fly to another country and accept an award that I never dreamed of having. Answering this is purely a knee-jerk reaction. I'd like to take it back if I have to."

He considered her words all but a moment.

"Very well. If that is what you wish then so shall it be. I will depart the moment you ask it of me."

She eased back slightly. It was that easy?

"That's it? No blood oaths? No sacrificial lamb? No magical spell thing? Just, tell you to leave and you'll leave?"

He grumbled another laugh, though it was something less than bemused.

"A handshake, then?" He said, offering his hand to her, which she took slowly. "Deal?"

"Deal."

O-O-O

December 6, 2015

London, England

Loki disappeared shortly after he appeared.

She had spent day and night picking his brains and he indulged her in the finer points of Asgardian sciences – or magic, as he'd like to put it, but she wasn't so sure of that.

They argued the validity of magic in the universe until one of them passed out – that one being Loki, shockingly enough. She didn't miss the bags under his eyes when he first arrived, the way his eyes were always half-lidded, the slight sag in his shoulders as he sat, his long limbs unfurling like a sated cat.

He slept on her couch that night because she allowed him to. She moved to get him a pillow and a blanket. She didn't know if he'd need it with all that clothing on but it was still nearing the dead of winter and she was the bottom floor of the apartment complex.

She dismissed his disappearance. Norse gods, especially those of the mischievous variety, should be the last on her mind.

She had to get her itinerary solidified and her packing finalized. And she had to get a dress. And she had to write a speech.

Still.

She wouldn't easily admit it to herself but his presence seemed to leave an empty hole in her apartment. The silence wasn't comfortable.

She wondered where he went – if he was as bored as he claimed, then surely there wasn't some place he goes to be?

Ugh. She didn't need to think of Loki. She shouldn't even be speaking to Loki. Loki shouldn't even be alive. She shouldn't care this much and she certainly had better things to do.

Jane shuffled into her bedroom after a long day of cleaning and organizing and writing and time had escaped her long enough for her to realize that she didn't even leave to get a dress.

She flipped on the light.

An emerald gown was laid down on her bed with a small piece of paper that read:

Forgot something?

-L

O-O-O

December 8, 2015
Stockholm, Sweden

Jane Foster would be the third woman to have ever been awarded a Nobel Prize in physics for her discoveries on the Einstein-Rosen Bridge theory.

Jane's knees shook underneath her long gown, her hands feeling rather cold as they shook with the gloved hands of aristocrats and royal men and women who did not speak her language, but welcomed her all the same.

It was like a dream, almost and she floated about. It was true, she had given many talks to other scholars like her, but this was different. This was almost not real.

Trumpets sounded from above in the large hall that was specifically allotted for this awards ceremony. The clinking of china and crystal was heard across the hall.

The lights lowered and they announced her presence – the third woman in history to ever receive a Nobel Prize in Physics.

She gazed out into the crowd. This should be fine, right? She knew few people here, if any. Erik was not around, Darcy was preparing to graduate and Thor… Well…

She moved to the microphone and opened her mouth to be met with a pair of green eyes that stared back at her from the first row of tables, next to the spot she had been assigned to sit and eat. How in the world?

She choked on her own saliva. She knew those eyes from anywhere.

She played it off less-than-smoothly as clearing her throat before she glanced down to her note cards and began thanking all those who had came, all those who supported her, the officials in the US who had sponsored her work.

It happened so quickly. When she was done, she looked up to see all of them standing – was it that good? Did she actually say all of that? Was this happening?

The same lady who escorted her up now escorted her back to her seat as the aristocrats took turns shaking her hand once again before she was led back to her spot at the table.

"Hello, Dr. Foster," She knew that voice from anywhere. She froze.

She looked up to the owner of the voice – familiar green eyes stared back from an unfamiliar face. He was Loki but he… wasn't. His face wasn't as angular, his nose was smaller, he was bulkier than lanky, but his hair was still as black as the night and it was combed back neatly. He looked like he belonged here just as much as the next aristocrat.

"Quite the speech you gave," He said, his voice so low only she could seem to hear it.

"Loki?" She whispered, looking around her to see that the people were more distracted with themselves than with the odd conversation that was about to take place.

"In the flesh." He gave a mock bow and perked his head up with an utterly charming grin.

"Why are you here?"

"Because Thor is not. And because I don't imagine this is some small happening for you and I thought I'd be here to see it through." He moved to grab a bottle they had left on her table in front of her place setting and he poured two glasses. "Champagne?"