Author's Note: Saw Thor the other day. Awesome movie. So I can't help myself, here's my take on it as I need closure. I know he's going to be in the ultimate avengers movie they're making, but I'm an impatient lady. So here we go! Please read and review!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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Cake Batter Ice Cream and Thunder Gods

By: Lady NeverAfterNon

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Jane Foster pinched the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to calm the massive migraine that had been stabbing at her brain for the better part of a week. She sighed. Jane yanked out one of her lab's lumpy and uncomfortable rollaway chairs from where it had been wedged underneath a desk and sank into it, wishing she'd thought to take a break hours ago and run to the convenience store for painkillers before her brain decided to murder her slowly.

She pinched harder, then winced when it didn't work. No dice, not that pinching normally helped anyway. Her head kept happily throbbing away, sending what she imagined to be miniature laser turrets stabbing into her temporal lobe.

Jane rested her head on her forearms and stared into her computer screen, eyes seeing the various data sheets and logistics logs but not really registering them. Everything was swimming together; she was so unbelievably tired.

It had been exactly two years and a day since Thor had opened the Bifrost, promising her he'd return for her. Two years. Two freaking years. She had been at this from the moment he'd left, trying to reconstruct the Einstein-Rosen bridge from her end. The only problem was, not only did she not have enough power but the damn thing was unstable. The simulations her computers ran again and again showed a temperamental wormhole that degraded before matter could fully integrate through to the other side. And did she mention she didn't have enough power? She'd been trying to bully Tony Stark into building her a power source capable of sustaining the wormhole, but the man was a mule when it came to getting him to do anything.

It was enough to give any astrophysicist a headache.

The lab was quiet now, all the underlings S.H.E.I.L.D had given her in order to complete their little Operation: Retrieve Thor For Avengers Program had gone home. Or rather, they'd been sneaking out one by one when they'd thought she wasn't looking. Well, she supposed she had been working them a little too hard. Not only was she under pressure from Phil Coulson and his cronies to finish the project, but she was haunted in her dreams every night by a Norse god with clear blue eyes and a devastating smile. She thought it was amazing she wasn't nuts already.

She wiped at her eyes, then started in surprise and began scrubbing furiously at them when she discovered they were wet. Crying, she couldn't believe it. She was crying over a man she'd barely known a few weeks. Ridiculous.

Jane straightened and began to tap furiously away at her computer. No way was she getting upset over this, not Jane Foster.

"Late night again?"

Jane looked up. Natasha Romanoff peeled herself from the shadows and sauntered forward, managing to make the business suit and glasses she was wearing look fit for a queen. A sultry, borderline indecent queen. Jane unconsciously patted at her messy brown hair that hadn't been brushed in a while and tried to hide the mac an' cheese stain on her blouse from lunch. Natasha always had that uncomfortable inadequate effect on her, even though the Black Widow had always been nothing but nice.

Natasha pulled a chair up to sit next to her and handed her a cup of coffee. "I thought the boss ordered you and your team to take a break?"

"I had a few things to follow up," Jane muttered uncomfortably, not really looking at her.

The Black Widow settled in and showed no signs of leaving Jane alone any time soon. Natasha rested her delicate chin on her palm and sipped her own latte, eyes watching the numbers play across Jane's computer screen. It was quiet save for Jane's fingers typing on the keyboard and the computer humming quietly.

"So what got you stuck with me?" Jane asked, unable to stand the silence and finally asking the question that had been plaguing her now for months.

"I beg your pardon?"

"What did you do to get stuck with me and my team?"

Natasha was beautiful and deadly and it had always confused Jane that she'd been handed the task of babysitting a bunch of lab nerds that never went outside. Natasha certainly didn't look like she was made for that sort of job, she always looked like she'd walked straight off of the set of a James Bond film. So why Phil Coulson put her in charge of the security of their little team she could only guess.

Natasha chuckled, swirling the dregs of coffee around in her Styrofoam cup. "My boss, Mr. Fury simply felt that considering recent events you needed a guardian."

Recent events? Did she mean the giant Asgard killer robot that had annihilated the better part of a town? That had been two years ago and S.H.E.I.L.D had certainly stepped up security since. Jane certainly hoped it was about the Destroyer. If it was Loki… She'd never met Loki personally but she'd seen the look of anguish on Thor's face whenever he'd come up in conversation and she wasn't sure she ever wanted to meet the guy. In the Norse myths Loki was single handedly responsible for the killing of both Thor and Odin as well as bringing about Ragnarok and the end of the world. Watching Natasha's expression, she suddenly wasn't sure she wanted to know. The thought of her Thor being eaten by a damn snake made her sick. And an apocalypse would suck too.

"Ah." Ah was a perfect word, very noncommittal.

Natasha grinned at her, obviously misreading her 'Ah' to mean something else entirely. "Trust me Ms. Foster, after Tony Stark there isn't anything that you could possibly do that I haven't seen before."

Well that certainly raised some interesting questions. She knew Stark was a handful, and probably the main reason for most of Nick Fury's migraines, but she hadn't known Natasha had been there to witness the crazy first hand.

They were quiet a moment, Jane typing and Natasha still sipping coffee, having finished her own and moving straight on to Jane's untouched cup.

Jane stopped typing. "So did that jello thing with those models and all the badgers and Stark actually-?"

"Yes, yes it did."

The look on the Black Widow's face as she recalled that particular memory was priceless, like she'd accidentally eaten a lemon and no one had thought to tell her it would be sour.

Jane choked, and then to her complete surprise started laughing.

She was laughing so hard her stomach hurt and tears were prickling the corners of her eyes. She hadn't laughed in ages and she couldn't even remember a time when she'd laughed so hard she'd cried. Somehow she was thinking about Thor again. And she was certainly crying now, crying over a man who hadn't even told her he liked her. A man she'd practically assaulted when he'd merely kissed her hand.

God she was an idiot. It was the stress talking, or rather crying. Stress and no sleep.

"Ms. Foster?" Natasha was looking at her, concerned, and she gripped Jane's shoulder and gave her a little shake.

"I'm okay. Sorry, I'm not usually this much of a mess." Jane was plucking tissues from her purse, cartoon Norse tissues for kids that Darcy had stashed, probably thinking she was being funny. It was funny how a stupid tissue almost set her off again.

"Well staying up night after night worrying probably isn't helping any."

They were quiet again, Natasha's hand still resting awkwardly on Jane's shoulder.

"If you don't mind my asking," Natasha asked finally, "Why're you doing this?"

Jane looked up at her, eyes still slightly red not just from tears but from physical exhaustion that was beginning to show due to the long hours put in at the lab and the pressure of the constant deadlines, confused and more than a little perplexed. Why was she doing what? Blubbering like a baby? Crying over a gorgeous guy that had basically left her in a puff of smoke? Granted, they hadn't actually had enough time to even form a relationship, but still. The spark had been there.

'Being human,' Jane thought, annoyed, 'what do you think I'm doing, lady?'

"Not to sound callous, I mean it's not my business, I simply follow orders, but what if Thor didn't come back because he didn't want to and not because he couldn't?" Natasha asked.

"What do you mean?" Jane could feel her stomach sinking, not liking where this conversation was going.

Natasha hesitated and then pulled out a sleek black Android had ever seen from somewhere in her suit. The casing was shiny and simple, and she wondered whether Stark had got his hands on it, because she had a feeling it could store her entire lab in it no problem. Jane made a mental note to ask Coulson if he could get her any more high tech doohickey's.

At the very least it might have games on it that would keep Darcy occupied the next time Jane had a deadline. Angry Birds saving the world, one lab intern at a time.

Natasha poked at it then showed Jane the little screen. Photos of Sif flicked across the screen, snapshots of manuscripts detailing the mythology of the Norse goddess, but the last one was of a very real and corporeal Sif sitting on top of the Destroyer's massive shoulders ramming her spear into its neck. Jane looked away, now knowing for sure now where this was going.

"She was his wife in the legends and stories. Did he say or do anything to indicate otherwise?" Natasha asked.

"...No."

"I was just wondering, if you were doing this to prove your research or for something else. You know that S.H.E.I.L.D won't allow you to publish anything on account of it being classified. So…what makes you work so hard?"

Jane stared at her computer screen, her life's work displayed and she suddenly realized that it all meant nothing. No one was going to know what she'd accomplished. No one would care. She thought that she and Thor had had something special, and she'd practically killed herself trying to find him again. But-what if the reason he didn't come back was that he didn't want to be found?

The fierce exaltation on Sif's face as she sat astride the Destroyer burned through her. Not only was she pretty, but she was also a Norse goddess. There was no way she herself could compete, not in terms of fierce baddassery. Thor would want someone, eventually, who was his equal. What they had between them wouldn't work, not in the long run. Her heart shattered in that moment. What had it all been for? What had it been worth? Nothing. Jane wanted to laugh, and could feel the hysteria from exhaustion and heartbreak coming on. She suddenly wanted nothing more in that moment than to retreat back to her trailer with a giant tub of cake batter ice cream and reruns of StarGate.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," Natasha watched her unhappily.

Jane looked at her, swallowed, and tried not to break down for the forth or fifth time in front of the Black Widow. She'd already blubbered enough to last a lifetime.

"It's alright, I'm fine. If it's okay with you I'm going to call it a night and turn in." She was very pleased with herself in keeping her voice in some semblance of calm.

Jane gathered her stuff together and left the lab. It was all she could do to make herself walk calmly to her trailer and not run like another Destroyer was at her heels.

Natasha watched her leave, still looking uncertain.

"Goodnight," she called.

Jane said nothing, and immediately felt bad. Natasha had only been trying to help. Jane couldn't help it though; merely fled and hoped it didn't look like she was fleeing.

.x.

She was dreaming. She had to be. It was her trailer, sort of. Only the walls were made of what smelled faintly of cake batter ice cream and her ratty old flower quilt had been replaced by the thickest, most deep crimson comforter she'd ever seen. The final candle on the metaphorical dream cake was the tall scruffy blond man dressed in plaid and standing at her kitchen table making coffee out of a miniature StarGate. Jane pinched her forearm, then looked back at the table. Yep, Thor was in her kitchen, clad like a lumberjack, and he was making coffee out of a fictional TV wormhole.

That settled it. Her dreams were getting weirder, and it was a good possibility that all the time in the lab was driving her bonkers. She made a mental note to go out and get sunlight more often.

He finished adding cream to the coffees and dumping in enough sugar to make a saint diabetic and then padded towards her on bare feet.

Jane watched him move towards her, then grunted and flopped back into the bed, tugging that lovely red duvet up to her chin and shoving the pillow over her head. She didn't have to play this game; dammit it was her dream, she'd do what she liked and all she wanted at the moment was to be left alone.

It didn't look like her subconscious was going to listen, however, she could feel a finger digging into her ribs searching mercilessly for any ticklish points. She twitched in spite of herself and she had to work hard to keep from giggling. Oh no, her dream was not going to get her that easily.

"Bugger off!" she shouted, voice muffled by the pillow, swatting a hand in Dream Thor's general direction.

The finger stopped poking and for a moment she thought she'd succeeded in driving off extremely annoying Dream Thor. Then, the duvet disappeared and she found herself shivering. The bastard had stolen her blanket! Oh, it was on now. Her eyes shot open and she flung the pillow off at him. Dream Thor deftly dodged the pillow, setting the two coffees down on the table to avoid getting soaked.

"Go away," she snapped, jabbing a finger at him, "You've bothered me enough."

He looked very confused, a little hurt, and downright adorable. Jane pinched herself again. If he kept giving her that face, dream or not...

"I don't understand, Jane Foster, I thought- well, I thought we cared for each other."

"Yeah?" she was still shouting, "I thought so too. I was wrong!"

"Jane."

Her name from his mouth nearly undid her and to her complete embarrassment she found herself crying again. She scrubbed angrily at her eyes. It wasn't like she minded crying in front of Dream Thor, showing tears in front of the real Thor would be another thing entirely. No, it was the fact that yet again she was sobbing like a little girl. She didn't think she'd cried so much in her entire life as much as she had on this one day.

"Why do you have to confuse me?" she mumbled, pushing at him as he attempted to draw her into his arms.

"Shh," he murmured, sinking next to her on the bed and hauling her into his lap.

His arms drew around her and in the back of her mind she registered again at the strength and power in them. Arms that could turn a Destroyer into a bunch of scrap metal were now holding her like she was some fragile origami butterfly that would scrunch at the lightest touch. Jane gave up and rested her forehead against the crook of his neck and shoulder. The cotton of his plaid shirt was soft, and smelled like dryer sheets. She smiled. It was a dream and it was going to end, for now she was going to damn well enjoy it.

"Why did you have to be married to Sif? Why did I have to fall in love you? Why did you leave?" Jane muttered, remembering that she was supposed to be annoyed, punching him in his gut with each word. "Jerk."

He choked and his large body shook, obviously trying hard not to laugh. He failed miserably and his head went back. Dream Thor laughed so hard his face was red.

Jane jerked her head back to look at him, and for a moment those blue eyes crinkled in laughter completely disarmed her. Then she got a grip on herself, she was not going to let a dream dump her head over heels again, no siree.

"You're laughing at me!"

"Sif?" he gasped, "You think me- and Sif?"

He went back to laughing, barely able to get a breath in. Squelching his laughter was hopeless. Jane shook her head and reached for her coffee, waiting for him to get over it. She sipped at it, then started chugging it eagerly. It was the best coffee she'd ever had, and she considered herself to be a coffee connoisseur.

"Done yet?" she said, poking him in his lovely, firm stomach.

"Oh Jane, you say the most amusing things," he said finally, wiping at his streaming eyes.

"Hey! Again with the laughing! Quit it," she snapped, "My logic makes perfect sense."

Almost like he read what she was thinking, he chuckled again.

"Still think this is a dream, Jane Foster?"

"Of course it's a dream, what else would it be?"

He said nothing, merely looked at her with that stupid half grin tugging at the corner of his delicious mouth.

Oh no. This was a dream, please let it be a dream. Oh god, her dream was screwing with her, that had to be it.

"It's not a dream, is it?" she said slowly.

He shook his head, still grinning.

She buried her face in her hands, embarrassed at her behavior beyond belief. She couldn't even look at him. God, he probably thought she was retarded. Even if he wasn't shacked up with some Norse Xena Warrior Princess, there was no way he'd be attracted to her now, not after what she'd just pulled.

"Hey, look at me," he said, gently peeling her hands from her face.

She complied, flashing him a nervous smile. He smiled back and cupped her face in his large palm. She could feel the heat from his skin and the callouses on his hand and her eyes slid closed again. his rough thumb stroked her cheek lightly. This was real, he was real. She felt his lips on her forehead and, making sure their coffee was within easy reach, he plumped the pillows up behind them and made sure she was tucked up against him before he pulled the red duvet up around them.

"So does this mean that you'll keep trying?" he asked finally.

She didn't say anything for a while, merely listened to the sound of his heart fluttering into her ear through his thin flannel shirt.

"How did you know?" she asked finally, "That I...gave up?"

"Heimdall."

"Ah." She really should have seen that one coming.

He pulled back to look at her. "There is a path, from Asgard to Midgard, though it is not a friendly road. It's called Gjallarbru and it travels through Niflheim."

She looked at him, not understanding.

"I made a promise Jane, that I'd find you again. I intend to keep that promise. I will walk that road in order to be true to my word," he said, grasping her hands.

"So," she said slowly, "This really is a dream. You aren't here."

He sighed. "It depends on how you look at it. I am really here, but you're also dreaming. I had to pull a lot of strings to bring this on."

She reared back, ready to fight again, "If I'm on the Thunder God equivalent of an acid trip so help me I'll-"

He bent forward and gave her a kiss reminiscent of the one she'd planted on him just before he'd had to leave her all those years ago. He kissed her fiercely, and there was no gentleness in it though his arms never tightened and he still held her like she was a china doll. Jane felt her limbs turn instantly to putty and something hot boiled in her belly. She fisted both hands in his long blond hair and kissed him back recklessly, nibbling at his full mouth. He was laughing happily as he lifted her onto his lap and stood, swinging her around. She wound her legs around his hips and kissed him again, hard. His beard scratched at her cheeks and he smelled like rain and ozone. He was something she could become addicted to, something she found that she never wanted to be without.

They pulled apart, breathing heavily, and she rested her forehead against his.

"Jane," he whispered, "Don't stop looking."

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

"I can't fix the Bifrost, not with what I have. It is unclear, but from what I can gather you have the tools in Midgard to rebuild it, or at least start. And I can't travel Gjallarbru, not without starting another war. I will do it to keep my word and my honor, but I beg you not to ask that of me."

She snorted, "You did research."

He grinned at her. "This isn't just a pretty face, sweetheart."

"Since when does the Thunder God do research?"

"Since he met a lovely scientist who keeps hitting him with her transportation device."

They laughed, then were quiet. He drew her up and her feet slid down to stand on the tops of his, but he kept her in his arms and her own were around him. She thought that if he wasn't some Norse superhero than she might have possibly broken a rib or two with the death grip hug she had on him.

"I missed you, " she whispered finally.

His arms tightened around her. "And I you, Jane Foster."

Jane couldn't believe she was clinging to him like some desperate teenager, but she also found she never wanted to let go. She didn't know how she'd landed Thor, but she knew she was never letting go. He was stuck with her, for better or for worse and she'd find him or die trying.

Thor picked her up again and she rewound her legs around his hips, mashing her face into the crook of his neck and trying to memorize the feeling of him against her. He snagged the duvet from her bed and wound it around them. He opened the door to the trailer and she found that her little trailer, or what passed for it in her 'dream', was floating in a vast sea of stars. Thor carried her up to the top of the trailer and settled down on top of it and together they watched the silence of the Universe around them twinkle like millions of tiny fireflies. Stars were born and died in the space of minutes, and the celestial bodies danced and boiled slowly around her trailer like a giant cosmic ocean.

.x.

"Jane..HEY JANE!"

She woke, groggily registering that someone was shouting at her and it was most unwelcome. Something landed on her bed like an ungainly bowling ball and catapulted her onto her cold floor. When her cheek met the chilly tile of the floor of her trailer she knew she was awake, and whatever moment in time that she and Thor had shared if it was even real and not a figment of her imagination, was gone for good.

"Ugh." Jane hauled herself to her feet to come face to face with Darcy's overly chipper visage.

"Natasha was worried something had happened to you when you didn't show for work," Darcy said, breaking into Jane's stash of strawberry poptarts, "but you look fine to me."

"Yeah..." Jane rubbed at her forehead and moved off towards her bathroom. Her migrane was gone, but she wanted to pop some painkillers and head it off just in case it decided to come back.

"Hey Jane, nice quilt, where'd you get it?"

Darcy's words were like cold water down her spine and she was instantly awake and looking back at her bed. The familiar crimson red duvet was tangled across her bed like someone had decided to upend a paint can over her sheets.

She decided to forgo the painkillers, and ended up wearing her duvet over her pajamas to work like a over sized burnous. No one asked why she attacked her work with the same zeal she had years ago when she'd first started the Einstein-Rosen Bridge Project, they just mainly got out of her way. Jane didn't care a jot as frightened interns scattered out of her way left and right as she darted from computer to computer, rewriting programs and calculating complex astronomical algorithms. Jane Foster was back in business.

.x.

To be continued...