Written for a prompt on tumblr: Sifki + kissing mid fight and then INSTANTLY returning to arguing.

"See! This is why we're always late, Loki." Sif sighed and gave up on trying to see herself in the mirror, ducking to avoid the flourish of green cloth that whipped over her head as the prince attached the heavy cape at his shoulders.

"I'm never late," Loki replied, not taking his eyes off of his own reflection. "I always arrive exactly when I intend to."

"You're making me late," Sif retorted. "I would like to arrive before the feast ends. I'm starving. You take an eternity to primp and preen."

"My ensemble has more pieces than your gown," Loki flicked his eyes away from where his fingers combed through his hair, meticulously smoothing each strand away from his brow, to look the shieldmaiden up and down. "You only have a single item to slip into. That color is quite fetching, by the way."

Sif slid her hands down the emerald green fabric of her skirt and rolled her eyes, suddenly regretting her color choice. "It's not just clothes, it's the hair. You are fussier than any maiden in the entire realm. Hurry up!"

"Patience, dear heart," Loki intoned mildly without looking away from the glass in front of him. He took a step back, turning this way and that, inspecting his reflection with a frown. "Your mirror is much too small."

Sif erupted. "You chose to come here. To my chambers! That's my mirror and you are wasting my time! Go back to your own giant, royal rooms if mine do not suit you!"

Loki didn't acknowledge her outburst, leaning forward to smooth his left eyebrow with a delicate sweep of his third finger. With one final look, he made a small noise of satisfaction and straightened away from the mirror. Sif rolled her eyes.

"Are you finished, Prince?"

Loki turned away from the mirror for the first time in over an hour and brandished his arms in a showy motion. "I cannot imagine there's anything else to improve upon, don't you agree?"

Loki smiled down at her, utterly pleased with himself. Smug bastard.

"Perfect, nay transcendent," Sif articulated with indifference. Although, truly, even she could not deny that he truly was a sight, buffed and shining and exuding power, provocativeness. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to pin my hair in my mirror."

She made to step past but his long arm caught her around the waist, spinning and pushing them chest to chest. The subtle scent of his attractive cologne was detectable this near and Sif resisted the urge to press herself closer, to seek out the source on the long column of his neck. Heat rose to her cheeks, he really was lovely.

"Thank you allowing me use of your chambers," Loki purred, running a slender finger from the hand not still wrapped around her down the jeweled bust of her gown. "I enjoy all of our time together. Our private moments are my most treasured."

Sif felt her heart flutter at the sincerity of his words. The heat of her previous annoyance was matched by the fire lighting his gaze. Where words were his weapon, the warrior preferred action, and pressed her lips to his. Her kiss was as soft and tender as his confession. His was as hot and demanding as her love, stealing her breath away when they finally broke apart.

"It's a shame that you've put so much time into this outfit," Sif smiled, "when I'm only going to dismantle it in the blink of an eye." Loki's eyes widened and he made a wanting sound.

"Muss away," he dropped his lips to her throat.

"Oh, I plan to thoroughly ruin you," Sif sighed, enjoying the skill of his mouth.

"Now?" Loki asked, begged.

"Mmm, no," Sif untangled her body from his embrace and pushed to step back. "You've kept me from my dinner long enough. And I need to be properly fed if I'm to keep up my energy."

"Wicked woman," Loki sounded more proud than scandalized as he turned away from her in the small bathing chambers. And promptly tripped over a pile of discarded dresses that Sif had considered and abandoned onto the golden floor.

"Dammit, Sif." The prince leaned down and gathered up the garments in a huff. "You do this on purpose. You know full well that I can't tolerate this kind of mess."

"Indeed I live to vex you, darling," Sif said around the pin held between her teeth, pulling dark locks of hair away from her flushed face.

"Take some pride in ownership," he shook his head and a flash of green magicked the gowns back into their rightful places. "Now," he ran a hand over his perfectly set hair, "do hurry Sif. We are late for the feast."

He laughed when the hair brush sailed over his head.