Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

  Of all the people who she’d ever danced with, the mop was by far the least glamorous, but at least it had the decency not to step on her toes as she waltzed around the darkened lobby of the Avengers Compound. With her large headphones fitted snugly to her ears, Jaklyn could almost block out her surroundings and pretend that she was spinning around a polished dance floor in a flowing dress. Rather than spinning around with a mop, wearing baggy coveralls with her last name stitched over her heart.

She was tempted to take off her headphones and connect her phone to the overhead speakers for the lobby. Jarvis always told her that she had good taste in music, back when she’d worked at Stark Tower. But after the whole Ultron thing, there was a new AI. Jak didn’t care much for Friday and Friday liked Jak even less. Besides, the Avengers were home. And while they were in a separate wing of the building, she could never be sure that Captain America wasn’t going to pop up and comment on her music. That had happened once and she’d been so mortified that she had studied Steve Rogers’ schedule so that she would never run into him again. They had enough history without throwing awkward musical encounters on top of everything.

Spying a muddy footprint just a few feet away from her, Jack twirled the mop, lifting it from the ground and slapping it down with a satisfying splat . She grinned to herself and scrubbed at the mud for a moment before resuming her waltz. After the song ended, she sighed and allowed her immaculate posture to slump. Dragging the mop over to the last of the dirty spots on the floor, she quickly finished the lobby and went back to her utility cart. She snagged the “wet floor” sign and propped it up in the middle of the room. Even though a fair amount of the residents of the building had super powers, they still slipped on wet floors. She’d learned that the hard way when Vision had hit a wet patch and slid right through a wall. Luckily he’d phased so there was no mess, but still.

Moving on to the hallway, Jak began to scroll through her playlist for the perfect score to play. She finally settled on Waltz No. 2 by Shostokovich—her favorite classical piece of all time—and began her dancing again. Before she was even ten seconds into the music, there was a loud bang and a tremble went through the whole building.

“What now?” She muttered, jabbing her mop back into the bucket of cleaner. She stomped over to the emergency button on the wall, prepared to hit it and alert the Avengers of the disturbance. Disturbances at the Compound were common. Every second rate criminal or supervillain wanted to test themselves against the Earth’s Mightiest Heroes and others just had beef with Tony Stark and thought he would be hanging around. They usually forgot that the billionaire spent most of his time in Malibu doing whatever genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropists did. 

Jak had been present for five disturbances so far in her time working for the Avengers. Three of them were back at Stark Tower (one of which involved an evil robot playing music from Pinocchio before deciding to destroy the human race) and the other two involved wild animals that had somehow broken into the Compound. Back before she’d worked for the Avengers, she had been the cause of a disturbance… but that was in the past. 

Feeling experienced enough to handle anything, she was about to hit the emergency button when she heard a familiar voice echo down the hallway.

“That wasn’t funny! I’ve had just about enough of your so-called jokes for one day!”

That sounded like Thor. And he didn’t sound like he was getting ready to punch anything in the face or pummel anything with his hammer so Jak relaxed. She left the emergency button and took a step back toward her mop and rolling bucket. However, her foot did not connect with the solid floor that had been there a moment ago and she found herself tumbling through a red sky, hurtling toward a desolate landscape. She screamed in terror and clawed at the power dampening cuff around her wrist. It went against her probation to remove the cuff, sure, but she didn’t really care about breaking probation to save her life. Alas, the electronic bracelet held firm.

Jak braced for impact, finding herself somewhat annoyed that this was the way she was going out. Splattering against the ground in an unfamiliar place was not what she’d envisioned when she’d pictured her death in the past. She’d always thought it would be something more elegant. Like a sniper rifle, or a sword blade. Maybe even being incinerated by someone’s super powers. But she made her peace with the messy death moments before impact and closed her eyes.

And never hit the ground.

She opened her eyes and found that she was suspended in the air above her mop and bucket. She yelped in surprise and then whatever force had been holding her let go, dropping her face first into the bucket of water and lemon-scented cleaning chemicals.

“Gah!” She spluttered doing her best to spit out whatever chemicals had made their way into her mouth. Her tongue had already begun to burn and she didn’t dare open her eyes for fear of hurting them too. 

She reached for the bandana in her back pocket and cleared her face of the dangerous liquid. When she was able to open her eyes she saw her cleaning cart fall through the floor and then, ten seconds later, fall through the ceiling and hit the ground with a loud crash. Spray bottles and garbage bags tumbled across the room. Jak scrambled to her feet and picked up her mop like a weapon. 

“Hey!” She shouted, wet strands of dark pink hair falling out of her ponytail and hitting her in the face, “Whatever miserable excuse for a supervillain is doing this… whatever this is, leave me out of it! I’m just the janitor!”

In response a heavy boot fell out of the ceiling and hit her on the head.

“Quit it!” She picked up the boot and lobbed it back at the ceiling. The boot fell harmlessly to the floor and she vaguely recognized it as being of Asgardian make. Was Thor throwing shoes at her? What had she done to piss him off? She didn’t even know the guy. He’d been absent when she’d first “introduced” herself to the Avengers and he hadn’t paid her any attention since she started her probation.

Gripping her mop fiercely, she looked around and waited for something else to fall out of the ceiling. When nothing did, she took a tentative step forward, testing the ground with the toe of her sensible sneakers. The floor seemed solid enough, so she took a full step in the direction of the emergency button. She poked the big red circle with the end of her mop and then took another hesitant step. She fell through again.

Screaming at the top of her lungs, she plummeted downward toward what appeared to be the ocean. She hit the waves, and felt the chill of the water, but then she was falling out of the ceiling back in the Compound again. Instead of landing in a bucket, this time the sopping wet janitor fell into outstretched arms.

“Got you!” Thor beamed at her. She coughed up the sea water that had gotten in her mouth as she’d screamed and shoved against the big blond’s chest, trying to get away from him. He let her go and she smacked into the hard floor.

“Oww…” she groaned.

“Apologies, I thought you wished to stand on your own,” Thor offered her his hand and she hit it away with her mop handle, still coughing and now finding that she was freezing cold and dripping sea water all over her freshly mopped floor. He reached again to help her and she flinched.

“Don’t touch me,” she hissed, “I can stand on my own.”

“Jane!” Thor hollered down the corridor, “Jane, turn it off! We are causing chaos!”

Jak mustered the strength to push herself to a sitting position and she took a deep, trembling breath. If she remembered correctly, Jane was a scientist as well as Thor’s girlfriend. She also recalled hearing that Jane was supposed to be in Norway studying some science related thing or another or teaching other scientists. Jak had never been much of a STEM person.

“What happened?” A feminine voice asked as a petite brunette woman came skittering out into the corridor. She stopped in her tracks when she saw Jak sitting in a puddle of water on the floor. “Oh shit. I’m sorry! Are you okay?”

Jak glared at the other woman. “Teleporting people without their consent has got to be illegal.”

“Did you actually leave the building?”

“Unless someone installed an ocean in here somewhere then, yeah, I’m pretty sure I left the building,” Jak looked down at her drenched coveralls and began to shiver. “What the hell was that?!”

“Midgard aligned with Vanaheim like a mini Convergence and we were testing to see if equipment we used during the last Convergence would—”

“Forget I asked. I don’t care as long as I’m not going to be falling through anymore oceans or red skies.”

“Red sky?” Thor asked. “There wouldn’t be a red sky in Vanaheim at this time of year. Are you certain that’s what you saw?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care,” Jak threw her hands in the air and got to her feet. “I’ve got two hours left on my shift, but I’m leaving now. If someone wants to tell my parole agent then go right ahead. I’m pretty sure Jimmy will understand given the circumstances.”

“Hey, hey wait!” Jane called as Jak collected her bucket and mop and shoved them onto her cart. “I need to ask you some questions for my research!”

“Hell no! I’m cold, I’m wet, and I’m going home!”

“Wait just a moment, servant—”

“Thor!” Jane hissed, “We don’t call people servants!”

“Err, right. Wait just a moment… woman.”

Jane slapped her forehead.

“Mr. Thor, I’m really sorry, but science and research are going to have to do without me. I need dry clothes and, and, and I don’t know, a soothing cup of tea or something,” Jak cringed inwardly. She usually did her best to avoid the Avengers and she certainly didn’t like to yell at them, but there was no way she was hanging around a moment longer.

“Dry clothes and tea, hmm?” A new, male voice said. A moment later Jak found that her coveralls and the clothes beneath had dried, though her hair was still a stringy, wet nightmare. A cup of tea appeared in her hand and she almost dropped it out of shock. “Simple requests. Now, stay and talk with Dr. Foster.”

Jak spun on her heel toward the voice, fully prepared to cuss out whoever it was. When she spotted the person a mere two feet away from her, she screamed again and tossed the liquid from her cup at the man. He hissed as the scalding tea hit his face and then glared at her. 

“If I weren’t so very well reformed I would make you pay for that, mortal. In fact, I still might, reformation be damned.”

“You’re... shit,” Jak dropped the tea cup on the floor and backed away.

“I’ve been called that before, yes, but I much prefer to be called Loki.”

Chapter Text

“Thor!” Jak’s voice raised to a panicked squeal. “Thor, your evil brother is here!”

“Evil? Honestly, that’s a bit rude, don’t you think?” Loki smirked at her. 

She took another step backward, intent on running away and finding more Avengers. Before she could get far, however, the dark haired villain in front of her took her wrist and kept her from running.

“You are going to answer Dr. Foster’s questions,” he insisted.

“Let go of me!” She tried her best to yank her arm away from his, but he was far too strong. Without the dampening cuff on her wrist she could have easily gotten away, but as things were she didn’t stand a chance of escape.

“Brother,” Thor finally noticed Jak’s distress, “You are scaring her. Do something to put her at ease.”

Loki narrowed his eyes before smiling courteously and letting go of Jak’s wrist. He waved his hand over his face and then began to shrink. He shifted into a tiny pomeranian dog and let out an excited bark, wagging his fluffball tail.

Jak loved animals, but she knew that this was no real animal. So she punted him across the room like a furry football. The dog whimpered, hit the wall, and turned back into Loki. He snarled at her and rubbed the back of his head. Jak didn’t wait for him to do something awful, she just ran.

She didn’t stop her mad dash until she came to Wanda’s room, where she pounded on the door. After a few moments, Wanda finally answered, rubbing her eyes sleepily and wearing the cutest vintage pajama set that Jak had ever seen. She didn’t dwell on the pajamas for long, choosing instead to point back the direction she’d run from and make unintelligible panicked noises.

“Calm down,” Wanda said soothingly, “What is happening?”

“I fell through the floor into the ocean!” Jak exclaimed, “And then Loki showed up!”

“Is he here already? I thought he wasn’t supposed to arrive until next week,” Wanda yawned. She pulled her long brown hair back into a ponytail. “What did you say about the ocean, Jaklyn?”

“Something freaky is going on! I need you to get down there and start magicking things!”

“I was watching on the security cameras,” Vision suddenly stepped through the wall behind Jak. “It would appear that Dr. Foster, Thor, and Loki were experimenting with portals in the corridor near the lobby and Ms. Baker fell into one. Then Loki startled her and she kicked him across the room.”

Wanda blinked in surprise.

“How did you—”

“Ah, I forgot to mention that Loki had turned himself into a dog in an attempt to appear less frightening to Ms. Baker.”

“Is that what he was doing?” Jak asked, “All of a sudden he was just a pomeranian. It freaked me out! And why isn’t he in some sort of maximum security prison or something?!”

“He is somewhat reformed,” Vision replied. “And, much like yourself, he is working with us to atone for his past misdeeds. He will be living in the Compound for the foreseeable future.”

“So…” Jak took a deep breath to calm herself and pushed her wet hair out of her face, “So, he’s supposed to be here? And you guys aren’t going to kick his butt?”

“I think I’ve been kicked enough, thank you,” Loki and Thor, followed by Jane—who was looking at a computer of some sort and not paying much attention—came striding down the hall. Jak immediately tensed and did her best to avoid eye contact. 

“Our deepest apologies to this janitor for scaring her so badly,” Thor nodded at Jak.

“I am so sorry,” Jane looked up, “I thought that if we messed around with the equipment at night then we would have less chance of disturbing anyone. Thor didn’t mention a night cleaning crew.”

“No crew,” Jak huffed and straightened her coveralls. “Just me.”

“Jaklyn,” Wanda put a hand on her shoulder, “Do you need medical attention? You are still trembling.”

“I’m fine, thanks. Just… shaken. I think I am going to go to my room and call Mr. Stark.”

Thor winced. “I’d rather you didn’t, janitor. Tony is already peeved with me for the runes the Bifrost left in the garden. He will be most displeased to learn that I nearly lost him his servant—err, employee.”

“Don’t worry Mr. Thor,” Jak shoved her shaking hands in her pockets, “I won’t tell him about that. I’m just going to ask him to convince my parole officer to let me go back to the city. It’s, uh, getting crowded around here.”

Wanda drew her closer and lowered her voice. “Because of him?” She nodded at Loki.

“Yeah, something like that.”

“He is here to redeem himself, like you are. I was thinking he could help me with my powers. Maybe he could do the same for you.”

“So you are Wanda Maximoff then?” Loki asked, suddenly very close to them.

Jak took a startled step away from him.

“Give them space, brother! They are having a private conversation.”

“About me.”

“You are being rude,” Thor said in a warning tone.

“Did Ms. Maximoff just imply that you are magically inclined, janitor?” Loki’s gaze flew from Wanda and tore into Jak with such intensity that she couldn’t find any words.

She opted for shaking her head and hurrying away from him. She collected her cleaning cart from where she’d left it, locked it in the custodial closet and decided to put the whole situation behind her for the night. In the morning, she planned to call Tony Stark and have him transfer her to another location where she could finish out her probation in relative peace. Without unsettling handsome Asgardian criminals popping up and turning themselves into dogs or dropping her in the ocean.

Chapter Text

He was not at the Compound to investigate aggressive custodial staff. He was there to aid Thor and Jane’s research and assist Wanda Maximoff with her magical abilities. However, as he ate his breakfast (a hideous Midgardian concoction called oatmeal) he couldn’t help but think about the woman they’d startled. 

Startled might have been too light of a term. By sending her through the rifts they’d nearly killed the poor janitor. He supposed she had every right to hate them, but he still wouldn’t forgive her for kicking him across the room when he’d been a pomeranian. There was a bruise on his ribs that smarted whenever he moved his torso.

“Good morning, Loki!” Thor greeted with a blinding smile and a booming voice.

Loki rolled his eyes, but inwardly couldn’t help but think that he’d missed the loudness of his brother. The dungeons of Asgard had their fair share of noisy inmates, but none of them were ever as jolly as Thor. Of course, the jolliness could quickly get irritating, but for the time being Loki was savoring it. And pretending to hate it, of course.

“Must you be so vibrant in the mornings, brother?”

“Apologies, I did not mean to disturb you,” Thor patted his shoulder and then turned to the industrial fridge in the Compound kitchen. He selected a half eaten rotisserie chicken and began to polish it off.

“Did the janitor call Stark?” Loki asked.

“What janitor?” Thor licked his lips and thought for a moment. “Oh! The one we… err, accidentally transported last night?”

“Yes, her. What is her name?”

“Her uniform says ‘Baker’ on it so I have always assumed that is her name.”

“Does she possess abilities of any sort?” Loki asked, remembering how Wanda had been whispering with her and the electronic bracelet on the woman’s wrist.

“She is truly a genius when it comes to repairing the toilets in this place! And her skills with a squeegee are unparalleled. She keeps the windows so clean that I have flown into them before!”

“I meant super-human abilities,” Loki paused in thought, “Unless she is not human?”

“In truth, I know very little about her,” Thor shrugged and continued eating, “I believe someone told me that she tried to kill the other Avengers once while I was away. Her employment here is part of her rehabilitation.”

“She tried to kill them and they trust her to work here?” Loki raised a brow.

Thor raised a brow right back and inclined his head. Loki understood his meaning.

“Touche. But I am your brother. Nepotism got me here, why does she get to stay?”

“As I said, I do not know her. You might ask Wanda. She and Baker seem to speak to each other frequently,” Thor gnawed on the bone he’d just picked clean, “Or, I suppose you could ask her yourself. She lives in the building somewhere. Though, after her reaction to you last night, she may not want to answer your questions.”

“Perhaps I will apologize on behalf of you, me, and Jane and she will be more willing to talk,” Loki stood and scraped the rest of his oatmeal into the trash. He turned his face to the ceiling. “Lady Friday? Might I inquire about the whereabouts of the janitor Baker’s chambers?”

“Staff residential information is confidential,” Friday replied. “A request must be placed with Mr. Stark before such information can be released.”

“For privacy,” Thor guessed. “And the staff’s protection. Tony does have quite a few enemies who might harm his staff to get at him.”

“Then I suppose I will just have to speak to Wanda,” Loki sighed and looked back at the ceiling, “Might I know Ms. Maximoff’s location at least?”

“Of course,” Friday responded, “She is  in the training room sparring with the Other AI .”

“Who?”

“That’s what Friday calls Vision,” Thor whispered, “We all suspect she is jealous of him.”

“You were quite forthcoming with Ms. Maximoff’s location,” Loki said, somewhat sarcastically to Friday, “Are you not worried about her privacy or safety?”

“Respectfully, she could kick the butt of any who might try to harm her,” Friday responded.

Loki ignored the voice’s sass and went to find Wanda and Vision. Even if she didn’t give him answers about the janitor, he did need to meet with the witch if he planned on advising her. At the very least, he could watch her train and see what he was working with.

When he arrived in the training room, he had to dodge a laser that Vision fired at him.

“Cease fire!” He called, rolling out of the way of another laser blast. “I have just come to speak with Ms. Maximoff!”

“Vis, stop! He’s real!” Wanda bounded over from where she previously stood in a fighting stance.

“Yes, very much real, thank you,” Loki straightened up as Vision descended from where he’d been floating in the rafters. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I should have scanned you first, my apologies,” Vision nodded at him. “One of the training simulators projects holograms of potential threats to spar with. I thought it had turned on.”

“Stark programmed a threatening hologram of me into your training system?” Loki asked, pressing his hand to his chest, “I’m not sure whether to be insulted or flattered.”

“If it makes you feel better, we are all holograms in the simulator,” Wanda smiled, “Stark is working on trust issues. Though I don’t blame him after the things some of us have done.”

“We met last night,” Loki extended his hand to her, “But it is lovely to meet you in the light of day, Ms. Maximoff.”

Wanda shook his hand. “You as well. Thor speaks of you often.”

Loki looked at Vision, his eyes catching on the stone in his forehead. “So that is what became of the scepter, hmm?”

“It is a long story,” Vision smiled and offered his hand to Loki as well. 

“My brother tells me you are able to wield his hammer. I suppose that means you are worthy of the power you possess,” he turned his attention back to Wanda, “While I do intend to assist you with your abilities at a later time, I was wondering if you could first tell me a bit about the other woman I met last night. The janitor?”

“Her name is Jaklyn Baker,” Vision piped up, “A felon who is working off her sentence in Tony Stark’s employ.”

“What crime did she commit?” Loki asked. Interested to learn how successful the woman might have been in attacking the Avengers. He knew from personal experience that it was no easy task and wondered how the woman was still in one piece. The Hulk must not have been present when she lashed out.

“I will let her share the details when she is ready,” Wanda said, “But to sum it up, she snuck into Avengers Tower, before Vis and I were part of the team, and she nearly killed Steve because of some long ago conflict. I believe her mother was somehow involved as well as magical mental manipulation. I’m told the events lasted two days, during which time Jaklyn’s mother was killed and Jaklyn surrendered.”

“Magical mental manipulation,” Loki repeated, “Similar to what you do?”

“I believe so, but perhaps more like hypnotism? Her mother was very skilled at it and that's how she convinced Jaklyn to do some of what she did.”

“And Ms. Baker has magical abilities of her own?”

“You should talk to her about it,” Wanda said with a small smile, “Convince her to train with us. I’m sure we could have her power dampening cuff removed, right Vis?”

“She has been well behaved in her time here and Mr. Stark does seem lenient in her punishment. It would be Agent Woo that we would have more trouble convincing,” Vision replied.

Something else that Wanda had said stuck out to Loki.

“You said that she had a long ago conflict with Captain Rogers. Is he not… significantly older than she is? By human standards?”

“You know, that would be a great question to ask Jaklyn,” Wanda laughed, “If you want to know her story, just go speak to her.”

“I would, but Friday refuses to tell me where she is located in this building,” Loki replied, sending a glare at the ceiling.

“Staff confidentiality,” Vision nodded.

“I take that to mean that you will not tell me either, robot?”

“Come on, I will take you to her,” Wanda beckoned Loki to follow her.

They wound their way through the polished halls of the Compound, passing laboratories and sparring rings. Loki made note of the location of the heavily fortified door labeled “Armory”, in case he might need that information at a later time. The Avengers might consider him reformed, but that didn’t mean he was peaceful. Though, of course, he was not currently planning any world altering attacks. Mostly, he just wanted to be prepared for when the Mad Titan made his next move on earth. Loki knew better than most what devastation Thanos could bring.

But he wasn’t going to think about that now. Right at that moment, he was going to introduce himself to the pretty janitor and make amends for scaring her the night before.

He blinked and missed a step as he walked.

Pretty?

He shook his head and kept following Wanda. It didn’t matter. Anyone with eyes could see that she was attractive. Not in the conventional way, like Romanoff, Wanda, or Maria Hill, maybe, but still lovely to look at. Perhaps better than the others simply because her features were not so severe and stunning. Her face was softer, though her brows were thick. Her nose was a bit crooked and her eyes were not fawn-ishly large. He caught himself wondering if her hair was nice to touch or if the pink dye had made it somewhat crunchy.

As he considered these things, suddenly they were at her door and he barely knew how they’d arrived there. He irritably rubbed his forehead, inwardly scolding himself for being so easily distracted. If he wasn’t careful, he’d wind up like Thor: head over heels for a woman who would die in a handful of decades.

“Would you like me to stay with you?” Wanda asked as they stood in front of the door for an awkwardly long time. “Perhaps I can help calm her down if she is… less than happy to see you again.”

Loki nodded vaguely, knowing it would help his cause to have the witch present. Jaklyn would feel safer with someone she trusted, someone who was more than capable of fending off Loki if the janitor worried about him doing something “evil”. Not that he would. He was only there to make amends and learn more about her possible powers.

He reached out to knock, but the door swung open before his knuckles connected.

“Geez louise,” Jaklyn drew a sharp breath and took a step back, “It’s like living in a horror movie. Jumpscares everywhere.”

“Good morning, Ms. Baker,” Loki took a step back as well, recalling that she was not fond of how close he stood the night before, “I have come to apologize.”

“I’m sure that will make you feel much better, but I don’t have time for it,” she reached behind the door and pulled forth a battered rolling suitcase. When Loki glanced behind her, he saw that her small bed was neatly made and the chair had been flipped upside down on top of the desk, presumably to make cleaning the floor easier.

“You’re leaving?” He asked.

“How observant of you,” she took a step forward and pulled the door closed behind her. “Good luck, Wanda. I’m sure you’ll have a lovely time learning about your powers and I look forward to hearing about you being heralded as the strongest Avenger.”

“Jak, wait,” Wanda put her hand on the other woman’s shoulder, “Did Agent Woo reassign you?”

“I spoke with him and Mr. Stark first thing this morning. It took some arguing, but they agreed that I can go work at one of the Stark factories instead.”

“You are leaving Avengers Compound for a factory job?” Loki asked incredulously.

“Unlike during the Industrial Revolution, factory jobs are actually fairly safe now,” she told him with an annoyed look, “Safer than living here.”

“The portals were Jane’s doing, not mine!” He protested, “Well, I helped, but it wasn’t entirely my fault! And when I tried to help you, you kicked me across the room!”

“Here I thought you were going to apologize,” she rolled her eyes and started walking down the corridor. “Goodbye Wanda, I’ll text you once I’m settled in at the new place.”

“You can’t leave!” Loki blurted, catching up with her and grabbing her arm. He looked down at his hand on her bicep and then looked up at her glare. Quickly letting go of her, he took another step back, hands raised peacefully. “I’m sorry. That was inappropriate of me.”

“Listen, Loki, it’s nothing personal. You just make me feel completely unsafe and as if the whole building might catch fire at any moment. Besides, based off of the stunt you pulled in New York, I know you have a big ego. I don’t get along well with others. We’d only cause problems,” she started walking again, “And I’m sure it’s against some safety code to have two former supervillains living in the same building.”

Loki hurried after her and Wanda tagged along a few feet behind. He wasn’t sure why he was so adamant for her to stay. It’s not as if it affected him one way or the other. But he wanted to know more about her. He wanted to know about her motivation for attacking the Avengers and what the extent of her powers were. Apart from a certain area of Tibet and a handful of other gatherings, it was rare to meet a magic user on Midgard. And Tony Stark had one working as a janitor. Even worse, soon she’d be a factory worker!

He told himself that was why he chased her down the hall, reasoning with her to stay. Because, as a sorcerer himself, he couldn’t let any potential skill she had go to waste. He pictured Frigga in his head, shaking her head at the poor little Midgardian, condemned to hide her abilities. It was for the memory of his mother, for the respect of the craft that he followed Jaklyn all the way to the front door. Certainly not because she was pretty and made his heart beat faster.

“What can I say to convince you to stay?” He asked her as she stood outside the compound, staring down the long driveway. A federal vehicle was supposed to pick her up and take her to her next job. Loki figured he had until then to get her to change her mind.

“That you’re leaving earth and never coming back,” she said, crossing her arms and sitting on her suitcase.

“You have magic. Let me teach you along with Wanda,” he offered.

She lifted her wrist, showing him the metal cuff. Small red lights blinked rhythmically.

“Can’t. No magic for me,” she looked up at him curiously for a moment, “Why do you want me to stay anyway? Nevermind. Don’t answer. I don’t care. I’m leaving.”

Loki grinned, sensing that she was beginning to cave.

“I am a powerful practitioner of magic,” he told her, conjuring a suitcase identical to hers and sitting on it so he would be at eye level with her. “I feel responsible to ensure that the art of enchantment is passed along correctly. Even if your lifespan is a mere blink of the eye, I’ve seen what sort of damage human’s can cause with improperly used powers--”

“The blink of an eye?” She snorted, crossed her arms and looked over her shoulder to Wanda, who stood nervously by the door, “You didn’t tell him?”

“He is very curious about you,” the witch said with a small smile, “But I told him that he would have to ask you himself.”

“Well, I suppose I don’t have anything on your years,” Jaklyn turned back to Loki and looked him up and down, “But two hundred and fifty years is surely more than the blink of an eye even for you.”

“Two hundred…” Loki gaped at her, “Are you… not human?”

She shrugged, but didn’t say a word. His interest in her only increased. She had to stay now. He’d find a way to keep her even if it meant trapping her in a pocket dimension.

“Are you unsure or just being difficult?” He asked in regard to her shrug.

“My mother was a human. My father was secretive, so I can’t be sure about him. He looked human enough,” she replied and then quickly looked away from him, “Not that it’s any of your business.”

Two hundred and fifty years would put her birth in the 1760s. Loki had not spent much time on Midgard during that era, so he had no idea what sort of historical events were happening. But he knew that America had at least been invaded by the Europeans by that point. She looked European. Her skin was fair and her eyes were… how had he not noticed her eyes before? They were a dark purple color. He supposed he could have mistaken them for brown previously, but in the daylight, they shone with unused power. Humans did not have purple eyes. At least, not that he knew of.

“We could find out more about your heritage if you stayed,” he offered, “Perhaps you have Asgardian blood. Or elven!”

She opened her mouth to protest, but closed it again and looked at him.

“What makes you say that?”

“Is your hair naturally that color?”

“Yes…” she responded, tucking a loose strand back into her ponytail. 

“What color hair did your father have?”

“I can’t remember…” she hesitated, “It was, I think it was black. But I remember thinking it looked like it had been dipped in ink. He might have dyed it.”

“Perhaps he was not of this world,” Loki suggested, “He may just have been human, hiding gray hairs, but what if he were more? What if you are not of this world? Wouldn’t you like to find out? I can help you.”

A black SUV appeared at the end of the drive. Loki stood and blocked Jaklyn’s view of it, getting her to focus on him.

“If you worry about what mischief I might cause, don’t. My brother is here to keep watch. The Avengers have already defeated me once and now I have promised to aid them, what have you to fear?”

She watched him carefully and then looked down at her wrist.

“It’s tempting, but legally, I am not allowed to use magic anymore,” she shrugged once more and stood up, “And it looks like my ride's here.”

A federal agent stepped out of the SUV as it stopped in front of them. He regarded Loki carefully, hand resting on his weapon. As if the tiny gun could do anything of consequence.

“Ready to go, Jaklyn?” The agent asked, stepping closer to her.

“Stay,” Loki said, voice firm. “Or I’ll have to come find you to finish this conversation.”

“Uh, sir, if you could please step away from Ms. Baker,” the agent put his hand up, “She will be going to secure location and--”

“If you live as long as you claim, I’ll have plenty of time to find you,” Loki told her, raising a brow and smiling at her. He added a bit of threat to the grin, knowing exactly how intimidating he could look with a mere smile. Her cheeks flushed red and she looked away, knuckles white as she gripped her suitcase. She pursed her lips and tapped her foot quickly.

“Jimmy, I’ve changed my mind,” she told the agent, “I overreacted.”

“Jaklyn, we’ve already got the paperwork sorted and, no offense, it’s probably against some safety code to leave you in the same place as Loki,” the agent gave Loki another judgemental once over.

“I have already sorted out the paperwork,” Vision appeared, floating up through the ground. The agent jumped in surprise, hand going to his gun once again. “And, Ms. Baker, I have contacted Mr. Stark’s legal team. They believe that you can have the cuff removed if you show proof that you will use your magical abilities to better society. If you were to register as a member of the Avengers team--”

“Whoa! Whoa!” The agent put both his hands up as if trying to tame a group of wild animals, “Everyone slow down.”

“Seconded,” Jaklyn pointed at Vision and then pointed at Loki, “I haven’t agreed to learning about magic. I am only agreeing to stay in the Compound. For now.”

“You would make an excellent Avenger,” Wanda commented.

“I’ll register as an Avenger when he does,” Jaklyn gestured to Loki with a scoff, “For now, I’ll stick to cleaning.”

“For now,” Loki agreed. And here he’d thought his time spent on Midgard would be boring.

Chapter Text

That evening, when she was leaving her room to start the night shift of cleaning, Jak wondered if she’d made a mistake in staying. She wondered this as she tripped over a golden vase full of heather flowers and spotted a note from Loki. Grumbling to herself about having to clean up the water she’d just spilled, she snatched the note and skimmed it.

Please take these flowers as a symbol of our budding friendship and as an apology for startling you last night.

Sincerely,

Loki

The way he signed his name was so full of flourishes that she could barely read it. If she hadn’t grown up reading letters penned with fountain pens in extravagant calligraphy, she might not have been able to make out any of the words in the note. Thankfully, her mother had made her study penmanship until the candle burned down on cold winter nights.

Shaking her head because she didn’t have time to dwell on old memories, Jak crumpled the note and threw it in the nearest recycling receptacle. She picked up the fallen vase and flowers and put them inside her room, leaving them on her desk. Then she set out to get a mop to clean up the spilled water and to start her duties for the evening.

The night moved along at a snail’s pace as she scrubbed scorch marks from sparring mats and sweat from gym equipment. It was wonderfully mundane and by three in the morning, Jak was laughing at herself for overreacting and trying to leave.

Until she smelled the smokey-sweet scent of magic building in the air.

“Wanda?” She called, gripping her mop tightly and bracing herself. Maybe she should join the Avengers and get the cuff off her arm. Her powers might be a tad unpredictable, but at least she could use them to defend herself.

There was no response when she called Wanda’s name again and she frowned. 

“Loki?” She asked in a decidedly less friendly tone. He didn’t answer her, but the room flashed green and after a blink of the eye, she found herself in a lush forest. Except, she knew it wasn’t actually a forest. That afternoon, she did some reading on Loki and knew that his strongest ability lay in his illusions. If this was his doing, it wasn’t real. Despite the gently blowing breeze and the strong smell of pine, she knew it was all false. Or so she kept telling herself as her pulse quickened and she tried to squash down unpleasant memories.

“I’m not amused,” she said, thumping her mop on the floor, “I have work to do and I’m tired.”

A bright blue bird flew past her, trilling softly. Jaklyn swatted it with her mop and watched with satisfaction as it vanished into green shimmers of light.

“If you are trying to make me regret staying at the Compound, then by all means, continue,” she waved her mop in front of her, swishing it through illusion trees as she tried to find her way to a real door and get out of the gym she’d just been cleaning. She thought she was getting close, when her mop hit something solid, but it turned out to be a treadmill disguised as a rock. She kept swinging, muttering irritably to herself until her mop hit something else with a thwack .

A palm materialized around the broom, followed by a hand, then an arm, then a smug grinning face. Loki pulled the mop closer to him, tugging her along with it. Jak took a deep breath and reminded herself that he wasn’t as scary as she’d first thought. Annoying as hell, sure, but everyone seemed confident that he wasn’t on earth to kill anyone.

“Good evening, Ms. Baker,” he said. His voice was one of the most beautiful she’d heard in all her years. It was and wasn’t like the opposite of Morgan Freeman--heavenly, but instead of soothing, it made every nerve in her body spark. She felt a chill run down her spine as he pulled her another inch closer.

“It’s actually morning,” she replied, her own voice sounding embarrassingly croaky, “Turn the room back the way it was before.”

“I much prefer this forest to the previous design, don’t you?”

“I don’t like forests,” she bit back.

“Why not?” He bared his teeth, “Afraid of lurking wolves?”

She rolled her eyes and yanked on the mop. It startled him enough that she was able to free it from his grip and continue her probing to find the exit.

“While I’m terribly sorry to disturb your work,” he followed behind her, “I wanted to check in on you. Did you find the flowers?”

“Yes, I tripped on them,” she hit something solid, but it was just the thousand pound dumbbell that Thor used to warm up. “Next time don’t leave them right in front of my door.”

“Next time?” He chuckled and she wished she’d spoken more carefully, “You flatter yourself to think that I will leave you flowers more than once?”

“Please don’t. Flower petals have a tendency to fall all over and make a mess,” she took a step forward and tripped on some unseen piece of equipment. She yelped in surprise, but Loki caught her arm and pulled her back to her feet.

“Watch yourself, Ms. Baker. I wouldn’t want my new toy to be broken so soon. We can’t solve a puzzle if it’s missing some pieces,” he took a gentlemanly step back from her, but his eyes lingered in a most ungentlemanly way.

“I really feel like you are trying to get me to call Agent Woo and tell him I want the factory job,” she crossed her arms over her chest, realizing that she’d dropped her mop and it had been lost in the illusion. 

“Am I making you feel unsafe?” 

“Dispel the illusion and maybe I’ll feel a bit less threatened.”

He sighed and waved his hand, returning the gym to normal. She frowned when she realized that she’d been walking in the opposite direction of the door. 

“No one has any regard for showmanship these days.”

“Thank you,” she found her mop and returned it to her cleaning cart. “Now, care to tell me why you sought me out before the sun is up and trapped me in an illusion of a forest?”

“You were never trapped,” he said, sounding somewhat offended, “It is no fault of mine that you could not find the door.”

She slammed the mop into the bucket of soapy water, splashing herself more than him, but enjoying the water stains that his leather pants would bear.

“As I said,” he continued, “I wanted to check in on you. I thought you might enjoy a bit of a change of scenery. This whole building is so dull. And covered in the Avengers’ logo.”

It was true. Every piece of gym equipment had a sparkling “A” insignia on it. Jak had wiped them down enough times to be a bit sick of the logo herself.

“Why did you want to check in on me? And why at three in the morning?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” he admitted, “Based on the time of our run-in last night, I knew you’d be awake. I thought I would see if you wanted to talk.”

“No, not really,” she pushed the cart toward the door, “I’d rather listen to my music and finish my work so I can go to bed.”

“Does Stark force you to work at night?” Loki asked, following her as she made her way to the nearby restrooms. 

“I requested this shift,” she answered. She wasn’t sure why she was telling him the truth, but soon she found herself saying: “I don’t sleep well in the dark, so I might as well put those hours to good use.”

“Could you not sleep with the light on?”

“I didn’t interrogate you about why you couldn’t sleep,” she propped open the bathroom door and scowled when she saw all of the golden hair clogging the shower drain. 

“My brother has never been particularly cognizant of cleaning staff and the trials they face,” Loki remarked, wrinkling his nose as Jak unfurled the mass of hair from the drain.

“If he had been with the Avengers when I attacked, he probably would pay more attention to me,” she grunted, wrestling with the drain as it released more and more hair. She’d just cleaned this bathroom two days previous. “But he forgets I live here most of the time. And I think I prefer it that way.”

“Oh? Not keen on winning the affection of the Crown Prince of Asgard?”

“The unwanted attention of one Asgardian prince is more than enough, thanks,” she smiled at him and then returned to fishing hair out of the drain.

“I like you,” Loki decided aloud, “I look forward to training you and uncovering your secrets, Ms. Baker.”

“You can call me Jak,” she said without thinking. She threw the hairball in the trash and put her gloved hands on her hips, looking up at him as he watched over her shoulder.

“Jak,” he repeated, “I like the name, but I have the feeling it isn’t yours.”

She blinked in surprise. She’d gone by Jaklyn Baker for the past fifteen years. All of her official documentation was in that name. No one, save Steve Rogers, had ever suspected her of using a pseudonym in all that time.

“What makes you say that?”

“You wear the name like an expensive scratchy shirt,” he mused, thoughtfully stroking his chin, “You keep it because it fits and it cost you a great deal to get it, but it has never been comfortable.”

“Philosopher as well as sorcerer? You are a man of many horned hats,” she grabbed her scrub brush and returned to cleaning the shower, determined to keep him from learning her real name or any name she’d gone by before becoming Jaklyn Baker.

“Another puzzle piece,” he muttered, “I am intent on solving your riddles. All of them.”

She laughed at that and looked at him over her shoulder. 

“Maybe you will. But don’t count on me making it easy for you.”

“Of course not,” he leaned close to her and whispered in her ear, “It wouldn’t be any fun then, now would it?”

Goosebumps covered every inch of her skin and she felt her heart skip a beat. Before she could think of an adequate retort, he was gone, leaving her and the hairy shower to their business.

Chapter Text

When she woke later that day, after sleeping from five in the morning until noon, Jak went to find breakfast. Or lunch, she supposed. Her dining and sleeping habits were far from normal. She made her way to the kitchen she shared with the Avengers. As the only non-Avenger (apart from Loki) who lived in the building, she had to share all facilities with them. If she weren’t paid so well, and if she weren’t on probation, she might have complained about being the only one who ever had to clean the bathroom. Especially after the blond hair clog she’d cleaned out of the shower.

Generally, the Mighty Avengers trained until one in the afternoon, which meant that Jak had plenty of time to eat before the super heroes came looking for lunch. However, that particular afternoon, she paused outside of the kitchen entrance, hearing voices.

“...ask her yourself. I only have one side of the story,” Steve Rogers said tiredly.

“You can be certain I will,” Loki replied in that amused way of his. Jak hardly knew him, but she could picture his smile. “But I want to hear your side. I want to know why you think Jaklyn Baker attacked you.”

“It doesn’t matter,” the super soldier said firmly, “What matters now is that she has changed. The past should stay buried.”

“Hmm, or frozen in the ocean,” Loki sighed, “Very well. I will ask her and then I’ll never know your part of the tale. You may never recover my good opinion if you don’t explain yourself, Captain.”

“Since when have I cared about your opinion?” Steve countered and Jak had to smile at his confidence. She’d always held a bit of admiration for the Captain. It was hard not to. He was so effortlessly good . Even if it meant putting his own life or reputation at risk. She could never see herself being so selfless. Not for anyone or anything. 

She’d already proved that when her mother died.

“I suspect Jak is still sleeping, so I have another question for you,” Loki said, interrupting her thoughts. “Where is the witch?”

“Hey, you can use her name.”

“Very well, but Wanda is clearly a witch. I mean that with respect. She’s dripping with magical potential,” Loki said, sounding truly impressed, “I am honestly a bit scared of her.”

“Good,” Steve replied, “She and Romanoff are in the courtyard.”

“Excellent. Well, I am off to prove my worth to society and train that witch--I mean Wanda--so that she doesn’t accidentally completely rewrite reality.”

“Can… can she do that?” Steve asked, a bit flabbergasted.

Jak found herself wondering the same thing. She knew Wanda was powerful, but surely not that powerful.

“Who knows!” Loki replied cheerfully, “Hopefully we’ll never have to find out. Thank the Norns she wasn’t around when I invaded. I’d probably be nothing more than a smoking pile of ash.”

Suddenly, he was exiting the kitchen and bumping into Jak. She barely had time to register that his shoulder had knocked against hers before he was spinning away with an elegant bow.

“I will seek you out later, Jak. As I’m sure you overheard, I have questions for you. But in the meantime, I must attend to the woman in the building who actually wants my help.”

He hurried off and Jak rubbed her forehead, fighting the headache his chatter brought on. Looking up, she made direct eye contact with Steve Rogers (something she tried to avoid doing at all costs) and felt the headache give a sharp stab.

“Ms. Baker,” he nodded.

She appreciated the use of her new name. When she and her mother had tried to kill him, he had only known the name she’d told him when they first met… in 1942. Every time she’d run into him since, he’d called her that name first and then corrected himself with a stiff apology. 

“Captain,” she tried to step around him, but he followed her into the kitchen, “Aren’t you usually training at this time of day? Or off saving the world? Or trying to learn how to use a smartphone?”

“I have a different kind of mission today,” he replied, “I have to be on the road by the time I’d normally eat lunch, so I’m eating a bit early. Will it… bother you if I join you?”

It most certainly would. She could not imagine a less enjoyable meal than one spent in his company, but still she said it would be fine. He’d been making food already and offered to share. Whatever he was cooking smelled nostalgic, though she couldn’t quite place what it was. Without too much thought, she accepted and he served her a plate.

“Is this scrambled eggs with spam?” She asked with a startled laugh.

“Heh, yeah,” he awkwardly scratched the back of his head as he dished up his own portion, “Apparently they still make spam, can you believe it?”

“I knew they still made it, I just didn’t know anyone still ate it,” she scooped up a large spoonful and shoved it in her mouth. “It tastes exactly the same as it did back then.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Steve smiled.

“I have no idea,” she took another bite and closed her eyes, “We had this for breakfast on special occasions in the thirties and forties. Christmas. Halloween. My father’s birthday, even though he, uh, didn’t celebrate with us.”

“It was a good birthday food,” he agreed, “My friend used to leave it in the can, heat it up over the stove, and stick a candle in it on my birthday.”

“That’s gross, but sort of adorable,” Jak laughed and then pointed at the empty cube-ish can on the counter, “What did it cost to buy that?”

“Almost four dollars,” Steve replied with a shake of his head. “I understand it’s inflation but you used to be able to get this stuff for a quarter!”

“Ridiculous!” She agreed, “And I lived through the incline in price. It must be worse for you, just waking up one day and spam costs a fortune. I think I would have cried. I still might!”

Steve chuckled and lowered his voice to a whisper, glancing around the kitchen comically, “I couldn’t sleep for days when I learned what an apartment in Brooklyn costs to rent.”

“Tell me about it!” She exclaimed, “Thank goodness for Tony Stark putting me up during my probation or I’d be living in a cardboard box.”

“That’s the real reason I agreed to be an Avenger,” he grinned, “I can’t afford not to be.”

“Well then, to Tony Stark,” she raised her fork and clinked it against his, “For his dedication to housing the elderly.”

Steve laughed, Jak laughed with him. It felt good to share a smile with the man she’d almost killed and for a moment she could forget their past. She could forget the way her mother wanted her to turn him inside out and torture him. She could forget that he’d ultimately killed her father. He’d also come up with the plan to kill her mother. And she’d helped him do it.

They were just a couple of youthful looking senior citizens talking nonsense about “back in the day”. She wondered if this tentative friendliness could last. Did he hold a grudge? Could he forgive her for what she’d tried to do? Or was he just so good that he’d be polite to her as long as she wasn’t actively hurting anyone?

They finished their lunch in silence and then he said he had to leave for his mission.

“Steve?” She said as he walked away. 

He stopped and looked over his shoulder.

“Be careful out there.”

He smiled. “It’s not a dangerous mission.”

“You’re an Avenger, it always has the potential to be dangerous,” she rolled her eyes.

“I don’t think I’ll run into too many hostiles where I’m going, but I’ll still be careful,” he chuckled and waved as he walked away. Jak watched him go, definitely not staring at his rear end or the tight jeans covering it.

Out of curiosity, she dared to speak to the AI that hated her and asked Friday what kind of mission Captain America was about to embark on.

In the usual snippy voice Friday reserved for Jak, she replied:

“Captain Rogers is going to visit a children’s hospital.”

Jak shook her head in disbelief.

“Where’s Loki?” She asked instead.

She needed to be around someone who made her look like a saint in comparison. If she spent too much time with the Good Captain her guilt might overwhelm her.

Chapter Text

Loki liked Wanda. He enjoyed her company and he enjoyed teaching her to use her powers. She was a natural, so it really wasn’t teaching, so much as helping her focus. And with strength like hers, she definitely needed to perfect her focus. If she wasn’t careful, she could destroy whole countries. Which was why, even if he hadn’t liked her, he would have pretended to so that she didn’t obliterate him. 

He was not so fond of the metal man, Vision. Not just because he’d been crafted using the Mind Stone, which put them all in danger of Thanos, but also because the android stared at him relentlessly while he helped Wanda study. It seemed the robot had a bit of a crush on the witch. And perhaps he was worried that Loki, an organic being with endless charisma and charm, would sweep her off her feet. The Asgardian probably could if he wanted to, but his mind was far too consumed with Jaklyn Baker.

He told himself that he should think less of Jak and more of Wanda. After all, Wanda was one of the most powerful magic users he’d come across in centuries, she should have his complete focus. But… he found himself wanting to know what Jak was up to in the kitchen. Was she speaking to Rogers? Did she still hold resentment for the Captain? Or had they forgiven and forgotten? 

Most importantly, did she find the Captain attractive?

Loki shook his head and tried to get back to Wanda. She had a small smile on her face when he finally refocused.

“What’s so amusing?” He asked.

“Jaklyn is very pretty, don’t you think?”

He narrowed his eyes at Wanda, remembering suddenly that she was able to communicate telepathically.

“Stay out of my head,” he pointed at her, “Let’s get back to the magical theory discussion, shall we?”

“Of course,” Wanda nodded and leaned in closer with a conspiratorial whisper, “She thinks you’re pretty as well.”

Loki did not have a moment to shoot back a snarky reply before they were interrupted by Jaklyn herself entering the room. Wanda laughed and Loki scowled. Jaklyn misinterpreted his frown and frowned back at him.

“Sorry. Am I interrupting?”

“No!” He replied quickly. Too quickly. “You are, of course, welcome to join us. We are discussing magical theory and locational change in magical energy.”

“Sounds complicated,” Jak wrapped her arms around herself, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “I don’t think I’d be able to keep up.”

“It’s not complicated,” Wanda said gently, “And we have hardly begun to speak about it because my instructor has a wandering mind.”

Loki shot her a glare, warning her to keep quiet. Though there wasn’t much he could do to stop her if she did give away his secrets.

“Locational change in magical energy basically means that in different places, magic behaves differently. Midgard’s Stonehenge, for example, is rife with deep magic. It is a recurring connecting point for the Convergence as well, which has led to, uh, issues,” he tried not to think of Dr. Erik Selvig often, but it was hard to forget the news footage he’d seen of the scientist running nude around the ancient stone construction.

“The Convergence,” Jak said, “Thor mentioned that when you lot dropped me through a portal. What is it?”

“Realms aligning, cosmos moving about, you should ask Dr. Foster about it,” Loki chuckled, “I’m sure she could explain it to you in great detail.”

“So, the realms lining up… made portals? And I fell through one?”

“Eh… sort of. Midgard and Vanaheim were lined up. And Jane has leftover equipment from three years ago when the actual Convergence happened. I’m not entirely sure how it works, but it allows her to open and close portals at will. Or something to that degree.”

“And Thor said Vanaheim doesn’t have a red sky this time of year,” Jak continued, “But I saw a red sky and a dry place when I went through one of the portals.”

“A dry place? Did you not previously say you saw the ocean? And fell into it,” Loki countered, remembering that she was soaked when he first saw her. “Vanaheim is full of forests. And sea. But I do not know of any deserts.”

“So maybe I went somewhere besides Vanaheim in the first portal,” Jak shrugged, “Because it had a red sky and a dry rocky ground.”

“I will have to tell Thor and Dr. Foster,” Loki shook his head, “But that is not important right now! Right now we’re discussing magical theory! Join us!”

“Please do,” Wanda agreed with a soft smile. The tension in Jak’s posture loosened and she took another step into the room. She seemed to trust the witch. At least, more than she trusted Loki. From what he’d heard, Wanda and her late brother had once fought against the Avengers too, though not for long. It seemed all three of them had once been enemies of Midgard’s greatest heroes to varying degrees. 

Loki supposed that boded well for any future friendship with Jak. If she could trust Wanda over time, then she could eventually trust him too. Well… as much as anyone could trust the god of tricks, lies, and mischief. 

As he discussed the intricacies of magic and using magical energy on Midgard with the two women, he completely lost track of time. Soon, Vision alerted them that one of the other new Avengers, Sam Wilson, had prepared dinner and their presence was requested in the kitchen. Wanda immediately headed that way, but Jak began to walk the opposite direction. Loki, though his stomach was growling, followed Jak.

“Just where are you off to?” He asked, catching her easily and striding alongside her quick pace. “I haven’t been here long, but I believe the kitchen is the other way.”

“It is,” she nodded, “If you need help finding it, I’m sure Friday can tell you how to get there.”

“Will you not be joining us for dinner?”

“Oh,” she stopped and looked back over her shoulder before resuming her walk, “No, they don’t want… I’m not usually… I prefer to eat alone.”

“You shared a meal with Captain Rogers earlier, did you not?”

“Yeah, but that was different,” she flicked a glance at him and narrowed her eyes. “Why do you care?”

Loki realized he probably sounded far too interested in her time spent with the other man. He quickly adjusted his expression to one of disinterest and clasped his hands behind his back.

“If I am going to teach you, I want to make sure you are eating properly,” he said nonchalantly, “Magic can be tiresome work. You need fuel.”

“I’ll eat,” she replied, “Later.”

“The others dislike you?” He asked, wondering if they treated her poorly. None of them were particularly fond of him either, but he could easily tolerate them. Thor was glad he was there. Wanda didn’t seem to completely hate him. And Loki, quite frankly, didn’t give a damn what the rest thought of him. But if they were making things uncomfortable for Jak, he would find a way to solve the problem.

She shrugged and walked faster. “You should go eat. Thor eats like a fire in dry woods. And Natasha is never far behind him, especially if she’s been working out.”

“Are they unkind to you?” He persisted. “Have they forbidden you from dining with them?”

“No,” she snapped, “But I don’t want them to force themselves to be friendly. It’s awkward for everyone and I rather eat alone.”

“Then I will eat alone with you,” he grinned.

“What, like a date?” She stopped and put her hands on her hips, glaring at him. Her gaze was unyielding, though her cheeks were flushed red.

“I want to be your friend, Jaklyn,” he replied, raising a brow to meet her challenge. “Only a silly Midgardian would assume a simple meal shared between a man and a woman is inherently romantic.”

She stared at him in silence for a moment before her lips quirked up at the corners just a bit. Taunting him as if she had him all figured out. “You’re right, of course. That is, after all, why Steve and I had lunch together this afternoon.”

When he frowned, her smile grew triumphant and she walked away, a spring in her step. Loki hurried after her, still intent on eating dinner with her, even if only to annoy her. Now he was more curious than ever about the nature of her relationship with Steve Rogers. He wanted answers that he knew only she would give him. The Captain had already refused to share his side of the story and Loki doubted that he could convince the soldier in the same way he might convince Jak.

“And what if I were to say it was a date?” He asked in her ear as she stopped outside her bedroom door and fished her pocket for her key. “What would you say then?”

She stopped moving and turned back to face him. He put one hand on the door next to her, pinning her in halfway, still leaving room for her to leave if she wanted. Their eyes met and he found himself wishing he hadn’t made light of her question. He should have just said yes.

“I would say that we’d probably give my parole officer a heart attack,” she crossed her arms under her chest and smiled softly at him. She inched her face closer to his, until they were only an inch apart and then laughed. “And, I’d say no.”

“No?”

She turned back to her door, unlocked it, and stepped inside. Before Loki could gather his thoughts, she closed it again and left him leaning against the doorframe.

“Mr. Wilson would like to know if you will be joining the Avengers for dinner,” Friday’s voice asked from the ceiling.

Loki clenched his fists and straightened his posture. He shot one last glare at Jak’s door and made his way back to the kitchen. All he could think on the walk there was how dare she? How dare she taunt him ? He was the one who taunted people with meaningless flirtations. How dare she occupy his thoughts so heavily, though he’d only met her two nights ago? He ought to be on her mind every waking moment, he was alluring, interesting, from another world! She was a peculiar Midgardian, but a Midgardian nonetheless. They’re lives were fleeting, and rarely useful in the grand scheme of things.

Except, her life was’t fleeting.

He wasn’t sure how long she’d live, but if she looked to be in her twenties when she was already over two hundred years old, then surely she’d last quite a bit longer.

But still. She was nothing but a Midgardian. Nothing but a mere human.

With secrets untold and a magical ability…

He groaned as he approached the kitchen. He should have just properly asked her on a date. Now she was playing coy with him and that only made her more interesting.

Damn her. 

Chapter Text

Despite what she’d told Loki, Jak did not end up eating dinner. Her heart was beating so fast after closing the door on him that she felt nauseous and couldn’t eat. Instead, she took a nap and ended up sleeping until midnight. When she woke in her room, in the dark, alone, she stiffened and fumbled around for her phone. She turned on the flashlight and felt marginally better as she made her way to the light switch. Before she turned on the lights, she glanced out the large window of her ground floor room.

There was a man standing outside, watching her. She dropped her phone in surprise, the flashlight turning and momentarily blinding her. When she could see again, the man was gone, but she knew she hadn’t imagined him. She’d seen him. Tall, long dark hair, dark clothes.

“Loki,” she snarled, turning on the lights and throwing open her bedroom door. She stomped down the hallway, not caring how loud she was. 

She didn’t know where Loki slept, or if he actually ever did sleep, but she knew where Thor’s room was and she made her way there and pounded on the door. A groggy blond Asgardian answered a moment later, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he regarded her, hammer in hand.

“Janitor?” He asked.

“Tell your stupid brother that if I see him creeping around my window again, I’m going to forget that I’m on probation and blast his ass back to whatever Asgardian prison he crawled out of!” She yelled before turning away and stomping back toward her room. Thor’s heavy footsteps followed her.

“I am sorry, Janitor, I do not understand you,” he said, catching her easily. “Where was Loki? What did he do?”

“He was standing outside my window! Just staring at me while I was sleeping!” She shuddered. Maybe she ought to call Mr. Stark again in the morning and tell him and Agent Woo that she changed her mind. A factory job sounded bad, but surely not as bad as waking in the middle of the night and finding a man outside her window. Of course, Loki had told her that he would track her down if she left. Which had sounded somewhat flirtatious at the time, but now sounded horrifying and obsessive.

“When was this?” Thor asked, still sleepy and confused.

“Just now!”

“It could not have been my brother.”

“I know what Loki looks like--”

“He is not here. After dinner, he, Jane, and Wanda went to test out the Convergence equipment, in New Mexico.”

“What?” Jak blinked in surprise. “They just flew off to New Mexico? After dinner?”

“Yes.”

She was briefly hurt that they didn’t invite her. After all, she’d spent the afternoon discussing magical theory with Wanda and Loki. They’d talked about the Convergence somewhat. She would have liked to see how the portals worked when she wasn’t falling through one.

But then she recalled that she was angry with Loki at the moment and let go of the thought.

“I saw him,” she insisted, “He was right outside my window!”

“And then where did he go?” 

“He… he disappeared. But I know he was there! I wasn’t dreaming!”

“Lady Friday!” Thor bellowed at the ceiling, “Are there any cameras pointing in the direction of this janitor’s window? Was my brother there a moment ago?”

“Two of the three cameras pointing toward Ms. Baker’s window have been disabled,” Friday replied, “I am sending the footage from the third to your phone, Thor.”

“Why were the cameras disabled?” Jak asked, fear clutching at her gut. She’d been quietly hoping that there was no footage of Loki outside her room. That she’d been imagining things and no one was watching her. But if someone killed the cameras, that meant someone had to be up to no good.

“The cameras were not disabled by any Avengers Compound personnel,” Friday replied, “They stopped working suddenly.”

“Here,” Thor held up his phone and played footage from outside the Compound. The camera was far away from the actual building, probably stuck to a tree or light post, but it pointed in the direction of Jak’s window. It showed nothing for a time, and then a man, a tall, long haired man, strode purposefully from the grounds up to Jak’s window.

“Shit,” she breathed, glancing at the clock on the video. It was half an hour earlier. The man had been watching her for twenty minutes before she woke up.

“That’s not Loki,” Thor said, not sounding sure, “It is too far away to make out his face.”

“Who else has long dark hair, wears leather, and would creep around my window?” Jak bit her lip anxiously, a habit her mother had tried to break her of nearly all her life.

“Natasha?” Thor suggested.

“That’s clearly a man!”

“Don’t be sexist, it could be a sturdily built woman!”

“Well it’s not Romanoff,” Jak waved her hand at the image, “She’s much too short.”

“Lady Friday, has the security team been alerted?”

“They are searching the grounds now,” Friday paused and then spoke again, “It would appear the disabled cameras were shot with a firearm of some sort.”

“There, you see, not Loki,” Thor said smugly.

“That’s worse! That means some other weirdo with a gun is out there!” Jak pressed her hand to her chest and took several deep breaths. “It’s fine. It’s probably just some supervillain. Someone who wants revenge on Mr. Stark or Black Widow or Captain America.”

“Or me,” Thor added.

“On earth?”

“It could happen.”

“They aren’t after me,” she replied, mostly trying to convince herself. “He was probably just looking through my window because he was searching for someone else.”

“Yours was the only window he looked through,” Friday provided, most unhelpfully, “And he watched you sleep for twenty minutes.”

“Who the hell would be trying to hurt me?!” Jak exclaimed, louder than she’d meant to, “Who is this guy?”

Steve Rogers came jogging down the corridor at that moment and looked relieved when he spotted her. He came closer.

“Are you alright, Jaklyn?”

“No. Yes. But not really,” she wrapped her arms around herself and Thor patted her shoulder unhelpfully.

“The security team hasn’t found anyone on the grounds,” Steve told her, “Hey, hey, deep, slow breaths, in… out… in… out…”

Jak followed his breathing instructions and was able to calm down slightly. Though not much because Thor still had the video on his phone and the man really did not move from her window the entire time. He paced back and forth, but his face never turned away.

“No one is going to hurt you,” Steve looked her in the eye, “We aren’t going to let anyone in this building.”

“Except, Jane, Wanda, and Loki when they return,” Thor piped up.

“We don’t even know what he wanted,” Steve shot a look at Thor, but refocused on Jak, “He didn’t make any attempt to get inside. He clearly had a weapon with him, but didn’t try firing on the window. Can you think of anyone in your past who might want to come see you?”

“Steve,” she grabbed his forearm, “Everyone in my past is dead. Everyone with resources. Anyone who is still alive, wouldn’t care enough to come find me.”

“You’ve been alive a long time. Are you sure--?”

“Hardly any of my father’s enemies knew about me,” she shook her head, “And they’re all dead. Either his friends killed them or I did. No one is left.”

“What about your friends? Is there anyone who might check up on you?”

She didn’t even have to think about it. Her mother had not let her make real friends. Her father used her as a pawn, introducing her to his friends and their offspring, but she’d never connected with any of them. No one who would care to check on her.

“Okay, so maybe this guy was confused. Maybe he was looking for someone else. Maybe he’s not right in the head and he got lost,” Steve suggested, “Whatever his deal is, he isn’t going to hurt you.”

Jak took several more deep breaths, reminding herself that she lived with the Avengers. Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. They’d fought the likes of Ultron and Loki. They’d taken on crazed billionaires, evil politicians, dark elves, and Hydra. They could handle one man with a gun. Even if they didn’t like her all that much, they weren’t going to let some random man kill her. 

And she wasn’t going to let him either. 

She told herself that if worse came to worst, she could get Thor to break the dampening cuff with his hammer and she could obliterate any would-be assassins herself. Her magic may not have been as powerful as Wanda’s or Loki’s but she was far from helpless. 

“I want you to stay in a safe room tonight,” Steve told her, “I’m sure Tony already knows what’s going on, but I’m going to talk to him. We can get you a security detail--”

“I’m going to call Jimmy Woo,” she said.

“You aren’t planning on leaving, are you?” Thor asked, “My brother would be downtrodden by your departure.”

“I’m not leaving,” she replied, wondering what exactly Loki had told Thor about his interactions with her. “I’m going to talk to him about what I’d have to do to get this cuff off.”

Steve winced. “Jaklyn… that might not be the best idea right now. Before, your mother could help you keep it under control, but now…”

“Loki has offered to teach me,” she sighed and flexed her fingers, “I want to be able to protect myself, so I’m going to let him.”

Chapter Text

“Steve, there’s never a clear picture of his face,” Sam Wilson told his friend, “And last we heard, our guy was in Europe somewhere.”

“It looks like him though,” Steve insisted, pointing at the security camera footage, “I recognize the way he walks. The hair, the clothes, there’s a glint of metal on his left hand.”

“Okay, let’s say it is him--it’s not, but let’s say it is--why would he be standing outside of the janitor’s bedroom for twenty minutes?” Sam challenged. “Did Bucky Barnes have any connection with her back in the forties?”

“They never met,” Steve shook his head and breathed a tired sigh, “Hell, I barely met her back then. It was her mom that wanted to kill me. Ru--Jaklyn was… her parents were using her. She was just a pawn to them.”

Sam leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. He raised a brow. “She made her own choices too.”

“And in the end she made the right choice,” Steve countered, not willing to discuss the not-so-young woman who had previously tried to kill him. They weren’t talking about her as they sat in the security booth, reviewing the unclear footage of the trespasser. He recognized the shape of the man who’d snuck onto the property. He knew immediately who it was that had stood outside Jaklyn’s window, but he had no explanation for why Bucky would be on the grounds just to watch the janitor. 

“Her father was connected with Hydra,” he suggested, trying to think of any explanation, wanting to go out and search if his friend was really so close by. “Hydra had Bucky brainwashed for seventy years. Maybe Jaklyn’s mother had something to do with that?”

“Maybe,” Sam agreed, scratching the back of his head, “She was no Wanda, but she had that hypnotism thing down.”

Jaklyn’s mother had magically manipulated Sam into turning on Steve briefly, but luckily, Barton and Romanoff knew how to undo mind-control pretty well. Sam had not been pleased to be exposed to “cognitive recalibration” as they called it when they hit him really hard, but he’d shaken off the hypnosis.

“We can’t let Jaklyn know,” Steve decided, “She and I are getting along alright now, but if she convinces Woo to take off that cuff, I don’t think I’d be able to stop her from hurting Bucky.”

“If it is Bucky.”

“Let’s just hope it’s not the Winter Soldier.”

The last thing they needed was for one of Hydra’s most dangerous assassins to be back in action with no memory of who he used to be.

Chapter Text

Jimmy Woo was one of the nicest federal agents that Jaklyn had ever met. And she’d met plenty after her attack on the Avengers. She’d met even more, from all sorts of agencies, when it came out that her father had been an ally of Hydra. Out of every one of those agents, she was glad that she got stuck with Jimmy Woo as her parole officer. 

He could be a bit annoying at times, but he treated her as a person. When he spoke to her, it wasn’t just to get information out of her or as a means to an end. It seemed like he genuinely wanted to know how she was doing at their check-ins and he never asked too much of her at once. 

She tried not to ask much of him either, because she wanted to call as little attention to herself as possible and because she didn’t want to make his life difficult. And now here she was, for the second time that week, making a request that would require hours of paperwork for her parole agent. 

“I’m sorry, Jaklyn, you know that’s not going to happen,” he was telling her gently.

“Can we talk to Mr. Stark about it?”

“He is sponsoring your probation, but he doesn’t actually have any sway with the FBI. Well… legally he doesn’t. He probably has someone high up in his pocket,” Jimmy cleared his throat, “But you didn’t hear me say that.”

“I want to use my powers,” she pleaded, “I want to learn how to use them to help people and protect myself. You said I should take up a hobby.”

“If you want to take up magic as a hobby, learn some card tricks, but I just can’t see my superiors signing off on--”

“But you could ask. You haven’t even asked. Mr. Stark would vouch for me. I bet even Captain Rogers would vouch for me and I tried to kill him.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone. Jaklyn heard a bit of typing and some clicking before Jimmy sighed.

“Tony Stark did offer you a lawyer if you ever needed one,” he said, “I didn’t say this… but, I think now would be a good time to take him up on that offer. If you’re really serious about getting that cuff off. I’ll start the paperwork to see what I can do on my end.”

“Thank you, Jimmy.”

“It’s Agent Woo.”

“Of course, Agent Woo,” she grinned as she hung up. She was about to dial Tony Stark to see what she could do about getting a lawyer, but there was a knock on the safe room door. She checked the time. It was three o’clock in the afternoon. There were still plenty of Avengers in the building and Friday would tell her if the person outside was a threat. 

“Come in,” she called, searching her phone contacts for Tony Stark. Generally, she would have to go through Happy Hogan to get to Mr. Stark, but apparently, Happy was monitoring another situation for the billionaire. After Loki showed up, Mr. Stark told her to contact him directly. For the time being at least. She doubted he’d answer her calls forever.

“Why isn’t this door locked?” 

Jaklyn’s attention snapped up from her phone when she heard Loki’s voice. He stood in the doorway, narrowing his eyes at the knob as if it were to blame for not being locked.

“You’re right,” she lowered her feet from the desk she’d propped them on and sat up straight, “Go back out and I’ll lock it.”

“I am serious Jak, if there is a dangerous man on the loose--”

“Pretty sure that fits the description of every man in this building. Except maybe Leland, the weekend cleaning guy. But I’d bet he’s probably ex-military or something.”

“--you should not be in this unguarded room with the door unlocked!”

“It is guarded. Did you not see the various stun guns built into the walls of the hallway? It’s not called a safe room for nothing. Besides, the security guys already cleared the property. I’m only in here until Steve says I can go back to my room,” she set her phone down and reminded herself that she needed to ask a favor of Loki as well. Perhaps she’d better get her sass under control. Or, as her mother always used to say “adjust her tone to one befitting of a young lady”. 

“Thor told me that you thought the invader was me at first,” Loki replied, poking around the room and going through the various puzzle books Steve had left for her. 

“At a glance, in the dark, he looked like you,” she shrugged.

“Thor also told me that you threatened to ‘blast my ass back to Asgard’,” he turned to her. Gesturing to the dampening cuff on her wrist, he raised an eyebrow, “That might be somewhat difficult given your situation.”

“About that,” she self-consciously covered the cuff with her other hand, tapping on the glowing lights, “I’m… I’m actually in the process of getting it removed.”

A smile slowly spread across his face. He looked unfairly handsome when he was smug.

“Oh?”

“Yes. I figured it would be better to be able to defend myself if some creep is out to get me. Does your offer to help me still stand? Or would you rather just focus on Wanda?”

She tried not to let her minor bit of jealousy show in her voice, but he must have caught it anyway. His smile only became more smug.

“We had a lovely time in New Mexico,” he clasped his hands behind his back and began pacing the room. “With so much open desert, she could really show off her powers. I’m not sure that I’ve ever seen the like in all my years. At least, not on Midgard. Imagine what she could do, fully trained! I’ll be spending a great deal of time with her.”

“So you won’t help me?” She shrugged as if she didn’t care, “Then I guess I’ll just have to rely on Steve to protect me. He seems plenty willing.”

He rolled his eyes, knowing exactly what she was doing, but she could sense hesitation in him too. He truly did not like the idea of her and Captain Rogers together. Not that she was particularly interested in Steve beyond feeling guilty. But Loki didn’t need to know that. She liked making him jealous, mean as it was. She’d been in a few arranged relationships over the years, but she’d never had a man interested in her apart from her connection to her father. And she’d certainly never had a man be jealous over her.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t teach you,” Loki crossed his arms, “But in return--”

“You offered to teach me in order to get me to stay at the Compound,” she protested, “There is no ‘in return’.”

“I offered to help you uncover your parentage in order to get you to stay. In order for me to teach you to wield your magic, you’ll have to pay a price,” he leaned in close to her, eyes searching her face. She forced herself to meet his gaze, but felt compelled to turn away and blush.

“What do you want?”

He chuckled softly and brushed a hair from her face. “Oh, I want a great many things. But for now, I will settle for one question each day.”

“What?” It was hard to think. Hard to breathe with him so close. She couldn’t quite process what he was saying.

“Every day that I teach you, you will answer one question truthfully, no matter what I ask.”

“What sorts of questions?” She frowned, not liking this idea. She could always lie, she supposed, but she had a feeling that the Norse god of lies would probably see through any untruths.

“As I said, anything I want to ask. Most of it will be about your past,” he took a step back and dusted off his shirt, “I am set on unraveling your riddles, remember. And, you can always opt out of answering a question. If you do, I simply shall not teach you for that day. A more than fair bargain, don’t you think?”

She considered it. Though she wasn’t keen on sharing her past with anyone, she had heard enough stories in her lifetime about genies and fae to know it was easy to twist wishes and truths. She could answer his questions, while still giving him very little information. And, it wasn’t like her secrets were protecting anyone but herself. It wouldn’t actually hurt her if he learned about her.

But, if he found out too much, then he might grow bored of her. He might find that she was not such an interesting Midgardian after all and his attention might stop. Which, she tried to tell herself, would be a good thing… though she knew she would miss it.

Still, she really did need to learn to control her magic now that her mother was dead. There would come a day when someone would want to do worse to her than watch her through a window. She needed to be ready for that day, no matter the cost.

Finally, she offered her hand to Loki. He took it eagerly and shook it.

“You have a deal,” she replied, enjoying the feeling of his hand in hers, “Only if I can convince the government to remove this cuff, obviously.”

“Well, if they don’t,” he lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles chastly, “I can always break it for you and we can run away together.”

“Hmm,” she pulled her hand back and picked up her phone, looking at the screen as if she were bored, though she was really trying to hide how much her hand was shaking, “That sounds rather like a date. And you know I already said no to that.”

“Of course,” he winked at her, “And I would never push a lady’s boundaries.”

“No, never,” she rolled her eyes and pressed Tony Stark’s name on the screen. She held the phone to her ear and made a shooing motion at Loki. He bowed and left her to bargain with the billionaire.

Chapter Text

An uneventful week passed at the Avengers Compound. Well, not entirely uneventful. The super heroes were called out on several missions to save this that or the other thing. Jane went back to her research in Norway, leaving Thor sad and slouchy. The kitchen caught fire when Vision attempted to cook dinner for everyone and accidentally used flour instead of baking soda to put out a small grease fire. Sam Wilson crashed through a window. Natasha Romanoff had to fight off several Hydra goons who cornered her while jogging.

But all of that was fairly normal for the Compound. Jak was used to the normal chaos of living with and cleaning up after superheroes. The week felt uneventful because Loki was nowhere to be found.

Jak had thought that his worry over her safety might mean that he would keep an eye on her, but she only saw him once during that whole week. And that had only been in passing in the hall. He hadn’t even said hello then and Jak wondered if he had decided she wasn’t worth teaching after all.

Not that he could teach her much magic when Jimmy Woo was still working on getting the power dampening cuff removed. Logically, Jak knew that such a legal process would probably take longer than a month to go through. Jimmy and a handful of others would have to review her behavior and probably interview her a few times before they could even start the paperwork. But now that she knew she wanted to learn to control her magic, she wanted the cuff off immediately.

But the government rarely did anything immediately , so she would have to keep working, keep waiting, and keep trying to tell herself that she wasn’t actually missing Loki’s attention.

She told herself this as she stood precariously on top of a ladder and tried to change one of the super fancy, high tech light bulbs in the conference room.

“How many janitors does it take to change a lightbulb,” she muttered as she poked her head into the lighting fixture and tried to get a better look. “Friday, why is this socket so weird?”

“It is state of the art, environmentally friendly, and uses arc reactor tech--”

“Forget I asked,” Jak groaned, “Are there any tutorials on how to change a bulb like this on YouTube?”

“No. These lightbulbs are specific to Stark Industry buildings. They have not been released to the general public yet.”

“Of course not. Can you tell me how to get this damn thing hooked up?”

“Language,” Steve Rogers' voice said.

Jak jolted in surprise, hitting her head on the lighting fixture as she tried to look at him.

“Ow…” she grumbled, taking a step down the ladder and frowning at Captain America.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he scratched the back of his head, “Are you okay?”

“Yep. Peachy keen. Don’t walk under the ladder, bad luck and all,” she lightly poked at the place she’d hit her head, but it was fine. “What can I help you with, Captain?”

“I was just checking in with you,” he nodded at her open toolbox on the conference room table, “But I can come back at another time. It looks like you’re busy.”

“Just trying to figure out Mr. Stark’s world-saving, headache-giving lights,” she climbed down the ladder and put the bulb on the table and then hooked her thumbs through the belt loops on her coveralls. 

“He does like to modernize things,” Steve laughed, picking up the bulb and examining it, “Just like his father.”

“Howard Stark, right?” She’d known the name back in the day. Everyone had. Her mother had even tried to find a way to set her up with him so that she could get involved in the SSR and then SHIELD. Jak was glad that never panned out.

“A genius. And a good friend,” Steve set the lightbulb down and smiled at her, “Any word from Agent Woo about the dampening cuff?”

“No,” she sighed, “It’ll be a while.”

“We could always get Tony to turn it off,” Steve suggested quietly, “Tell the government it just stopped working.”

“Steven Liberty Rogers,” Jak faked a horrified gasp, “Are you telling me you want to lie to the government?”

“Liberty?”

“No? Steven Freedom Rogers? Steven Spangles? Steven Nationalism--”

“Grant, actually,” he laughed. “And I’m not a nationalist.”

“No?”

“There’s a difference between nationalism and patriotism,” he pointed out, “And patriotism today is different than it was back then.”

“Is it?” She challenged, “Seems like this country is still doing a lot of the same stuff it did in the forties. They just got sneakier about it.”

He looked thoughtful for a moment, but Jak didn’t really want to talk politics right then. She’d been feeling a bit lonely that past week and wanted to keep Steve around for conversation.

“Any more information about the guy who was watching me?” She asked.

“No,” his thoughtful look turned uncomfortable. “We-- Sam and I-- were thinking he might have been connected with those Hydra guys that jumped Natasha.”

“Maybe,” she agreed, “Maybe he saw my pink hair in the dark and thought it was red. But why didn’t he just attack me right then and there if those guys were going to attack Romanoff anyway?”

“That’s what I was thinking too,” Steve crossed his arms, “You’re sure you can’t think of any of your parent’s old enemies or allies that might send someone to find you?”

“No one comes to mind, but they kept me in the dark about business . Especially in the thirties and forties. It’s hard to have your daughter appear to be the perfect nineteen forties young lady if she accidentally mentions that her father is working with Nazis. They didn’t trust me enough to tell me details.”

“And you’re certain Leroy is dead?”

Leroy. Her father. Or, at least, the name her father used from 1920 onward. She recalled what Loki had said. That maybe her father had not been as human as she thought. It would have made sense. How else would he have known the magic to keep Jak and her mom alive as long as they were? Well, if it was magic. If she wasn’t just born to live forever.

But her mom had been adamant that she was human. She often told Jak about how amazing Leroy was because he’d taken pity on a mere human woman and then fallen in love with her. It had been a popular bedtime story when Jak was young.

Of course, she’d learned later that Leroy had not actually been in love. He’d only wanted a child. And someone to take care of that child. After Jak was born, he always seemed to forget about her mother beyond ordering her around on those rare occasions the whole family was together.

“Jak?” Steve asked.

“Hmm? Oh. Yes. He’s dead,” she replied, looking down at her toolbox and fiddling with some pliers. “You killed him, remember?”

“I don’t remember,” he replied with a flash of a smile, followed by a stoic expression, “That’s the problem. That’s why your mother hated me so much.”

“Well, I remember,” she huffed, “I wish I didn’t. But I’m sure he’s dead.”

“We’ll figure it out,” the Captain told her, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder, “And you’ll get that cuff off.”

“Right,” she scowled at the device on her wrist, poking it with the pliers, but not daring to try and pry it off. That would only make her look guilty and then the government would decide she wasn’t ready to have it off. Or worse, they’d decide she needed to be in prison, instead of on probation.

“In the meantime, why don’t you come train with me?” Steve offered, “If you can’t learn magic from Loki, you can at least learn how to defend yourself without it.”

“That… I would like that,” she replied, smiling, “Thank you.”

“Before you train, Ms. Baker, I am obligated to remind you of your to-do list,” Friday piped up, “There are still seventeen other lightbulbs to change and one of the toilets on the third floor is backed up.”

“Let me guess,” she scowled, “Colonel Rhodes had Taco Bell again.”

“That is confidential information.”

“Well, I’m never going to get to the toilet if I can’t figure out how to change these cursed lightbulbs. What’s the secret, Friday? What am I doing wrong?” She hated to admit to the snarky AI that she needed help, but she didn’t want to be changing bulbs for hours.

“You were turning it the wrong direction.”

Jak scoffed, thinking the AI must surely be joking, but Friday did not give any more information. The janitor grabbed the lightbulb, climbed back up the ladder and tried turning the bulb to the left instead of the right. It went in immediately.

“Why the hell doesn’t Mr. Stark use righty-tighty lefty-loosey?!” She roared, stomping down the ladder.

“My question is, how can you not have changed one of these lights before in all the time you’ve worked here?” Steve laughed.

“Something about arc reactor power, I don’t know. They last a super long time and now there are seventeen of them all out at once,” Jak harrumphed as she packed up her toolbox and the box of replacement bulbs. “Doesn’t matter. What matters is that Mr. Stark is a psychopath! Everyone uses righty-tighty lefty-loosey! He’s a monster!”

“I’ll get started on changing the rest of the bulbs,” Steve offered, still laughing at her indignation, “You work on the toilet and then when we’re done we’ll go train in sparring room three, alright?”

Jak felt a small flutter in her heart. He was offering to help her. Not much, but it would certainly make her day easier.

She normally would have done this sort of maintenance at night, but the highly sophisticated bulbs had little speakers built in that put out an annoying recording of Mr. Stark saying “change, chaaaange your ways, or at least change this lightbulb” over and over again. And the Avengers had not been able to handle that, calling in Jak to take care of the problem.

Now, it would not take her nearly as long to fix the problem and she’d even get to learn a bit of self-defense from Captain America himself. She smiled softly at that as she gathered her plumbing equipment and headed for the third floor. Her smile quickly vanished when she saw the state of the toilet.

Chapter Text

“We’re going to start with the basics,” Steve said as Jak stood with him on the sparring mat. She nodded eagerly, ponytail bobbing behind her.

She rarely had time to work out, so the sports bra and cropped yoga pants she wore had only ever been used once or twice. It was exciting to get a chance to exercise in the outfit, which she’d purchased on a whim after seeing Natasha Romanoff wearing something similar and kicking someone’s butt. 

“Punch me,” he gestured to his face.

“Are you… are you going to block?” She asked warily. Punching Captain America was definitely against the rules of her probation. 

“Just punch me,” he nodded encouragingly, “I can take it.”

“Okay…” she made a fist, remembering that she at least needed to keep her thumb on the outside so she didn’t break it. She’d never needed to fight without the use of magic in all of her long life. Her mother didn’t want her to brawl like a man, so she’d never learned much about non-magical violence. And when she’d used her powers to fight, her mother had always been using her own abilities to guide her. Or, more accurately, to control her. Jak had never been in a fight when she wasn’t being used as a puppet.

“Go on.”

“Sorry in advance,” she winced and swung her fist at his face. He moved his face to the left at the last second and her fist brushed past his cheek harmlessly.

“The only thing you should be sorry for is how pitiful that punch was,” he raised a brow, “Again.”

Jak rolled her shoulders back, trying to release some of the tension in them and threw another punch. Steve dodged again.

“Again.”

Swing.

Miss.

“Again.”

Swing.

Miss.

“Again. Come on Jak, you’ve got this.”

“Since when do you call me Jak?” She took a deep breath through her nose and swung again. He caught her fist in his palm this time and pulled her forward. She stumbled close to him and caught a whiff of a sweet ashy smell. He pushed her back and she hit the mat.

“Keep going until you hit my face,” he motioned for her to stand up.

Jumping to her feet, Jak studied him for a moment, right fist raised. She threw a punch and then immediately followed with a punch from her left fist. Steve just barely got out of the way in time, her left hand getting so close as to hit a strand of his hair.

“Better,” he smiled, “Again.”

They continued with this dance for five minutes before Jak finally managed to clip his cheek. It didn’t really even count as a hit, and it clearly didn’t hurt him, but she grinned with excitement anyway.

“Ha! Gotcha!” She loosened her fists and put her hands on her hips as she took a few deep breaths, “Wow. I am very much out of shape.”

“Yes, you are,” Steve shook his head, “We have much work to do.”

“Well, let’s keep at it,” she shook out her arms, “Teach me some more, Captain.”

“Now that I know what we’re working with, let me show you the right way to hit someone,” he placed his hand on her bicep, fingertips cold. She felt a chill run through her and did her best to focus, despite her nerves sending frazzled messages to her brain. He took a step closer, standing right behind her as he lifted her arm and ran his hand across her skin. His breath was on her ear as he looked over her shoulder. She briefly wondered what her mother would say to see her standing so close to a man.

“Alright, Jaklyn, I got the last bulb changed, let’s get to… oh,” Steve’s voice said from over by the door.

Jaklyn’s eyes widened and she jerked away from the man standing next to her. She stared at him and then the man standing in the doorway, looking between them in confusion before it dawned on her what was going on. She pointed at the one who’d just been training her.

“Loki.”

That Steve grinned wickedly and his face morphed into Loki’s sharp features.

The Steve by the door crossed his arms and gave a disappointed look.

“I thought you might prefer to learn from someone a bit more experienced than the dear Captain,” Loki told her, bowing slightly, “You could certainly use the help.”

“Funny,” Steve said, stepping farther into the room. “I seem to remember you surrendering last time you and I fought one on one, Loki.”

Jaklyn would have paid quite a bit to see that security footage.

“All part of the plan,” Loki assured, “I was trained in combat before even your great-grandfather was born, Rogers. If anyone is going to teach our dear little Jaklyn how to defend herself, it ought to be me.”

“No,” she crossed her arms, “I’m training with Steve.”

Loki turned and gave her a confused and slightly judgemental look. When she didn’t say anything else, he scoffed.

“We made a bargain,” he mirrored her crossed arms and tilted his head, “You agreed to let me teach you.”

“Magic,” she countered, “I agreed to let you teach me magic.”

“Magical and combat training are basically the same thing,” he dismissed.

“Not with this they’re not,” she tapped the dampening cuff on her wrist, “Steve, let’s get started, shall we?”

“When the cuff is removed, it would make more sense for me to have already started your training. I will be the one--”

“Pretty sure she already told you what she wanted,” Steve interrupted, stepping closer to Loki, “When a lady says no, you need to listen.”

Jaklyn almost felt excited to see the two of them arguing. About her . She knew it was wrong. She knew she shouldn’t play them against each other. It was wrong and mean. Not to mention it was only asking for trouble to consider either of them as a romantic prospect in any capacity. One had killed her father and the other had tried to enslave the planet. Neither was a good option.

She watched them throw disgruntled words back and forth, arguing over what she wanted and what would be best for her. Though it was gratifying and thrilling to witness, it soon became clear to her that they’d forgotten she was there and were now only defending their own pride. 

So she took a few steps back. Then another few. And another. And then she was at the door and walking down the hall. While she could still hear their voices, she made puppets with her hands and sarcastically moved their “mouths” to the words.

“Cute leggings,” Natasha Romanoff said as she passed Jak in the hall. “Getting in a workout?”

“Well,” Jak pointed back in the direction she’d come from, “I thought I was going to, but the roosters are crowing a bit too much.”

The super spy assassin looked sympathetic. “Which ones?”

“Captain Rogers and Loki are having a bit of a lover’s spat,” Jaklyn laughed scornfully, “Steve was supposed to teach me some self-defense stuff, but now he’s too busy chatting.”

“I’m not doing anything at the moment,” Natasha shrugged, “Let’s grab another sparring room and go over the basics.”

“Really?” Jak smiled. She’d always thought Natasha hated her. The assassin was so cool and aloof-seeming. She always left chip crumbs on the couch too, which had made Jak biased against her. 

“I’m closer to your size than either of those neanderthals anyway,” Natasha nodded, “It would make more sense for me to train you.”

“That’s true!” Jak beamed, “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. I’ve been meaning to talk to Wanda about magicless fighting, would it bother you if she joined us too?”

Jak felt a weight lift from her shoulders. With Natasha and Wanda, she wouldn’t have to think about complicated feelings. She could just learn.

Twenty minutes later, the three of them were taking turns judo-throwing each other on the mats of a sparring room. The exercise felt good and laughing with the other women felt even better. No wonder her mother had never wanted her to make friends with girls her own age. Jaklyn felt powerful, comfortable, and independent. Everything her parents never wanted her to be. 

Chapter Text

Blaring rock music filled every speaker in the Compound at seven in the morning and Loki groaned as he pulled his pillow over his head. He recognized the song. It had been etched into his mind back in Stuttgart, Germany and he doubted he’d ever be able to forget it.

“... I'm gonna take you down, Oh, down, down, down, So, don't you fool around, I'm gonna pull it, pull it, pull the trigger, Shoot to thrill, play to kill-- ”

“Tony!”

“Oh come on!”

“Staaaaaark!”

“Turn the music off you son of a--”

Displeased shouts sounded all throughout the Avenger’s base, but the music continued to roar through all rooms. If anything, the volume got louder with every complaint.

Growling in frustration, Loki flung his pillow at the wall with such force it made a dent. He ignored the wall and magicked himself out of his pajamas and into a tunic, pants, and boots before marching out of the room to strangle Tony Stark. Apparently all of his housemates had the same idea as most of the Avengers stumbled out of their rooms, hands over ears, in various states of dress, all making their way to the conference room.

The first one there was Romanoff, already dressed, pressed, and ready for the day. Her arms were crossed as she glared at the one and only Tony Stark. The billionaire sat at the head of the conference table, a small Iron Man gauntlet on his hand, connecting to his smart watch. He smiled at the assembled group and hit a button on his watch, stopping the music.

“Did you miss me?” He asked chipperly.

“Yes, but don’t worry, my aim is getting better,” Colonel Rhodes grumbled, smacking his friend in the back of the head. “You couldn’t have gathered us all by texting us? Or bringing donuts?”

Stark gestured to a countertop behind him, which held six boxes of “Randy’s Donut’s”. When Thor and Sam Wilson saw this, both of their frown’s lessened and they took a box to split between the two of them. 

“Did Jaklyn Baker move out of the Compound?” Tony asked, looking around at all of them with narrowed eyes, “You guys wouldn’t let her do that, right? It’s against her probation.”

“She probably just went to bed an hour ago,” Rogers replied, “We should let her sleep.”

Loki ignored the jealous spike that popped up in his mind whenever the Captain spoke about Jak like he knew her. As if they were old friends, rather than enemies.

The day before, their argument over who ought to train the woman had gone on longer than either of them realized and when they finally stopped fighting, they saw that she had left the room. Romanoff had taken over her hand to hand combat training, which made both Loki and Steve Rogers a bit embarrassed. Not that either would ever admit it. Because obviously she should be learning hand to hand combat from someone who was closer to her own size and strength. It made perfect sense and neither of them had thought of it.

Loki had not spoken to Jak since. He could only hope she hadn’t completely changed her mind about their bargain.

“There’s no way she could sleep through AC/DC at full volume,” Stark scoffed, “She’s awake. Vision! Would you phase through the walls and go get her? Tell her I have good news.”

Vision, who had been eyeing the donuts longingly, nodded and floated through the walls.

All of the Avengers and Loki, took seats around the conference table, munching on the pastries, while they waited for the metal man to return with the janitor. Loki eyed Stark suspiciously, wondering what exactly had brought the billionaire all the way across the vast country. Tony Stark was such a wild card that it really could have been anything. He could have been bored of life in Malibu or perhaps fighting with the formidable Pepper Potts. Whatever the case, Loki was not fond of him asking after his new pupil.

When Vision returned with Jak in tow, Loki sat up straighter, then inwardly scolded himself and slouched into a nonchalant posture. He picked at his jelly filled donut, smearing the red jelly with his finger and doing everything in his power not to look up at the janitor as she groggily entered the room.

“Hi Mr. Stark,” she said sleepily, “What’s up?”

“Wait, were you actually sleeping? Did you sleep through Shoot to Thrill?!”

“Someone got shot?” She asked, sounding more alert now, “Who?”

“Nevermind,” Stark waved the matter away, “I have good news! Have a donut to celebrate!”

“What are we celebrating?” Jak asked, “Was someone shot? Was it a bad guy?”

“No one was shot, eat a donut,” Stark passed her a box of the breakfast desserts and she took one. Loki noted that she went for the sprinkle covered donut. He doubted that information would come in handy later, but it was always good to learn the preferences of the person he might attempt to woo in the future. 

Jak sat down in the open seat next to Thor and awkwardly leaned away from the big blond. Thor was on his sixth donut by this point and not paying attention to much else.

“Remember how you asked me about getting a lawyer and getting your cuff removed?” Tony asked. Loki, Wanda, and Jak all sat up straighter and leaned in toward the billionaire.

“You have a lawyer for me?” Jak smiled.

“Not here with me,” Tony rolled his eyes, “She’s in L.A., working remotely.”

“Does she think--?”

“The parole board is putty in her hands! She’s working out the details right now to set up a hearing for you next week. That soon enough for you?”

“Next week?” Jak grinned, “That’s much sooner than I thought.”

“Only problem,” Tony pointed at Loki, “Having him here is making things a little complicated. Having him teach you magic nearly broke the deal for us.”

“My brother has been the very picture of good behavior!” Thor protested.

“I am reformed ,” Loki crossed his arms and lifted his chin. “I can set a good example.”

“You also killed a whole lot of people,” Tony pointed out, “Not saying we can’t forgive you for that, but I am saying the government is wary. Lawyer says it’s likely that they will only agree to partial freedom from the dampening cuff.”

“Meaning?” Loki asked.

“They’re going to put someone in charge of a remote that controls whether or not the cuff is cutting her powers or not. So she can learn to control her magic, but she won’t have free access to it.”

“That’s fine,” Jak said, though she looked disappointed. “Will Jimmy Woo be the one in charge of the remote?”

“No, he wants to get back to San Fran,” Tony looked around the room, “They’ll pick one of the Avengers I think.”

“You?” Jak asked.

Stark laughed at this. “You think the government trusts me after I stopped selling them weapons? Not likely. The fact that they let us keep doing the Avenger Initiative at all is a miracle. Especially after Ultron.”

“If you weren’t rich, you’d probably be in prison for creating Ultron,” Wanda commented, just a hint of old malice in her tone.

“So… Steve, maybe?” Jak asked.

Loki did not like that idea, but he supposed it made sense. However, Stark and Rogers exchanged an amused glance. Natasha snorted.

“What’s so funny?” Jak asked.

“I’m not sure the government, uh, well, let’s just say the US government and I don’t always see eye to eye,” Rogers scratched the back of his head. “That happens when you commit treason a few times.”

“You… what?” 

“Don’t worry, Steve, in my experience, treason is an easily forgiven crime,” Thor smiled winningly and Loki rolled his eyes.

“Brother, stop for a moment and think about how the Asgardian government is a bit different from the American one, will you?” 

“Ah. Yes. I suppose it does help when your father is the king…” Thor winced and ate another donut. “Perhaps I could be the one to take care of this remote!”

“No,” several voices said at once, including Jak. Loki, for one, thought it wasn’t a terrible idea. He could easily steal the remote from his brother.

“They haven’t decided who yet,” Stark continued, “We’ll find out next week if the board approves it at all.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stark,” Jak said.

“What can I say? I’m a giver,” Stark shrugged, “Now, Steve, Nat, Sam, if you would follow me, there’s another reason I flew here so let’s talk.”

The four of them left the room and Loki pounced on his chance to speak to Jak alone once she left to go back to her room. He caught up to her in the hallway and kept pace with her easily.

“I would congratulate you, but that would be bad luck,” he told her, “You must be excited.”

“You must be too,” she countered, “You’ll finally be able to start nosing your way into my secrets. Then you can forget all about me once you’ve unraveled the mysteries.”

“Who is to say the answers to your mysteries won’t make me more interested in you?” He grinned at her and she scowled.

“I doubt it, but a girl can hope.”

“You don’t want me to forget you,” he stepped in front of her, stopping her in her tracks, “You’d be heartbroken.”

“Keep on telling yourself that. You’re such a skilled liar, I’m sure you’ll convince yourself eventually,” she went to step around him, but he moved in her way again.

“I wanted to apologize for my behavior yesterday,” he said, though he hadn’t planned on doing any such thing. He’d planned on pretending like it had never happened, but the words just popped out. “I was acting like a pig. Could you possibly deign to forgive me?”

She blinked in surprise, expression softening, lips parting just slightly.

“I’m… shocked you admitted to that. Yes. You are forgiven,” she tried to step around him once more, but he stopped her again. “Though, that forgiveness is slowly disappearing the longer you keep me from going back to sleep.”

“Right, of course,” he moved out of the way, but kept walking with her. “I also wanted to ask if you might join me for dinner tonight. The weather is fair, I saw that there is a sort of gazebo on the west side of the property. Would you care for a picnic?”

He hadn’t been planning to ask her out either, but he wanted to spend more time with her before she had her magic back. He wanted to get her to trust him. If she trusted him, it would be much easier to learn every one of her secrets. Perhaps then he could do as she thought he might and forget her. Or at the very least not think of her every waking moment of the day.

She raised a brow and stopped to stare at him. “That sounds like a--”

“A date. Yes. It is. It would be. If you agree this time,” he clasped his hands innocently in front of him and smiled as sincerely as he was able, “I am asking you on a date.”

“No,” she replied simply, walking again and nearing her door. Loki frowned.

“May I at least know why not?”

“Hmm,” she smiled slightly, fishing her key out of her pocket, “You’ll have to save that question until our bargain begins. Remember, you can ask me one question every day.”

“Yes, but I also remember that you can opt out of answering them.”

“I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

“You are an infuriating woman, you do know that I hope.”

“Maybe I just like that I have the power to taunt a god,” she laughed and unlocked her room, “Enjoy the daylight hours, Loki.”

“Sweet dreams, Jaklyn,” he sneered as she closed the door in his face. He made his way back down the corridor to try and swipe a few more donuts before Thor ate them all. When he arrived in the conference room, Stark, Rogers, Romanoff, and Wilson had returned from their private meeting and were chatting with the others amiably. Thor looked up when Loki entered and beamed at him like a dog wagging its tail upon seeing a favored person. 

Despite his outward scowl, Loki was glad of his brother’s amicability. Without it, the Avengers could be a rather cold group, even if they now understood Loki had not been entirely responsible for the Battle of New York. Understandably, they didn’t trust him, though they pitied the torture he’d endured at Thanos’ command. Thor, however, wore his heart on his sleeve and family had always been his heart.

“How goes your attempt to woo the lady janitor?” Thor elbowed him when he sat down.

“I am not initiating any romance,” Loki argued, taking a bite of a chocolate donut and savoring the sweet morsel. The Midgardians really did have a way with sugar. “I am simply… trying to get to know her. So that I might be a better teacher.”

“Yes,” Thor wagged his brows, “I’m sure you’d like to get to know her really well.”

“Shut up,” Loki flicked his wrist and a donut jumped off the table and hit his brother in the eye. “Where did your scientist wander off to? Did she finally come to her senses and leave you?”

“No! I mean, she is already very sensible! She just had work to attend to elsewhere,” Thor wiped frosting from his cheek, “My Jane is a busy woman. She is a brilliant doctor after all.”

“She can’t be that smart or she wouldn’t be dating you,” Loki said, but there was no malice to it.

“Your Jaklyn Baker must be nearly as wise as Jane,” Thor teased, “Since she is denying your advances.”

“Excuse me?” Tony Stark was standing closer to them than Loki realized and had heard some of the conversation, “Could you repeat that? Because I know Thor did not just imply that Reindeer Games is harassing a member of my staff. Believe me, Loki, you do not want to meet my HR guy.”

“I have no romantic interest in Jaklyn Baker,” Loki said smoothly. It might have been more believable if his brother weren’t grinning like an idiot and elbowing him continuously.

“Keep it that way,” Stark pointed at him, “She has bigger things to worry about than you. Got it?”

“Got it,” Loki rolled his eyes. While rolling, his eyes caught the disapproving glare from Captain Rogers. Perhaps dear, noble Captain America had something to do with why Jak was not interested in going on a date with Loki. Perhaps something ought to be done about it.

After all, Loki was not fond of sharing.

Chapter Text

The following week lasted forever, in Jak’s opinion. Time seemed to stretch lazily on while she worked herself to the bone to make the nights go faster. When she wasn’t sleeping during the day, she was training in hand to hand combat with Wanda and Natasha, both of whom were excited for her upcoming hearing. 

Everyone in the Compound seemed to want to be her best friend all of a sudden, giving her advice on what to say when she spoke to the parole board. The unsolicited advice was nice at first, she was flattered to know that any of them cared enough to try and help her. But after a while, having so many caring individuals constantly press her with tips and tricks began to remind her of her mother’s nagging. 

“Don’t forget to smile, but don’t look smug.”

“Stand up straight.”

“Look them in the eye, but don’t look intimidating.”

“Be humble.”

“Tell the truth… unless the truth is that you aren’t sorry for your actions.”

“Make sure you dress for the occasion! They like it if you look well groomed.”

“Let your lawyer do the talking… but be sure to answer the board if they ask you questions.”

On and on it went, making Jak’s head spin with advice. Eventually, it got so bad that she only ventured out of her room for workouts and work. She ate all of her meals curled up on her bed, reviewing the files of her case and going over the statements her lawyer sent her. 

In the evenings, she scrubbed the Compound from top to bottom. No nook or cranny was safe from her bottle of Lysol or her industrial size Mr. Clean Magic Erasers. No droplet of superhuman sweat was allowed to dirty the gym equipment. No hair dared to stay clogging the drains. 

The night before her hearing, she had noticed that the ceiling of one of the sparring rooms had a bit of blood splattered on it. She was on top of a ladder polishing the glossy ceiling tile when she heard footsteps enter the room. She glanced over her shoulder and then turned back to cleaning the ceiling.

“Hello Loki. I suppose you’ve come to tell me what to say and not to say at my hearing,” she muttered, “I’m surprised you weren’t the first one to try and give me pointers.”

He didn’t respond, moving closer to the ladder.

“Don’t walk under me,” she snapped, still looking up, “It’s bad luck to go under a ladder.”

He was still quiet, but she felt the ladder wobble a bit as he stepped on the first rung. She felt her heartbeat pick up speed at his nearness and fought a small smile. She preferred to keep her interest in him a secret. He wouldn’t be able to mock her for finding him attractive if she never let him know that she did.

“So, what advice does the great trickster have to offer me?” She wiped her hands on her polishing rag and turned on the ladder to look at him.

She should have paid closer attention when he entered the room.

He was tall, had long hair, and leather clothes, but he wasn’t Loki.

“Don’t scream. Don’t run,” the man below her said in a robotic tone. He reached toward her with one hand, looking to grab her wrist.

Jak’s fight or flight kicked in, and thankfully she’d been training with the Black Widow enough for her first instinct to be kicking the man in the face and leaping down the ladder in the second it took him to recover.

“Friday! Friday, wake up the Avengers! Intruder!” Jak shrieked, sprinting for the door to the room.

“She can’t hear you,” the man slowly advanced toward her, “I found the main microphone control. Don’t run. I locked the door behind me. There is nowhere for you to go.”

His voice scratched at an old memory in her brain, but adrenaline made it difficult to focus on anything but trying to escape. She didn’t bother with the door, knowing that if she tried to unlock it, it would only waste time and allow her to pin him in. Instead, she made a dash for her cleaning cart and picked up her trusty mop, swinging it around to put between her and the man.

His left arm shot out and grabbed the floppy mop head. He wrenched it out of her hands and snapped it in half with one hand. Jak yelped and danced away from him, searching for something else to use as a weapon. Her hand went to the hammer that hung from her belt and she threw the tool at him, feeling a bit like Thor. 

Except she doubted Thor’s enemies could just catch his hammer without even hurting their hands and drop it to the floor. 

“Get away!” She yelled, taking the wrench from her belt instead and throwing that too. “Get away from me!”

“I am under orders not to kill you, but I will hurt you if necessary,” he told her in that same robotic tone. “Stand down.”

“Help!” She screamed, finally deciding to risk running to the door. He stalked after her and, just as she’d feared, pinned her in when she couldn’t unlock the door. It looked as if he’d crushed the knob somehow and disabled the button that would open it automatically. If she’d been smart and kept her hammer or wrench, she might have been able to break the handle off and force the door open, but her tools were on the other side of the room and the man was already on top of her.

“Please,” she begged, pressing her back to the door and facing him, “Leave me alone! I’m just the janitor! I’m not an Avenger!”

He didn’t react to this beyond clamping his left hand on her shoulder. She gasped, at the strength in that hand. It was not flesh and bone. She tried to remember if she’d accidentally incurred the wrath of a cyborg or robot somewhere in her long life, but the only robot she knew was Vision.

“Stand down,” the man repeated, “Just come with me.”

“No,” she tried kicking him again to no avail. She tried every trick that Natasha had taught her, but this man knew those tricks too and he anticipated every one of them. 

“Help me! Someone!”

“Don’t scream,” he pulled her close to his chest and covered her mouth with his other hand, which was also gloved, but didn’t feel like metal so she bit it. He wasn’t even phased. She threw her elbow back into his gut and he grunted, but did not loosen his hold. She stomped on his foot, but his boots were too thick for that to hurt him.

Slowly, he began dragging her toward the window in the room and she knew that he was going to carry her off if she couldn’t find a way to escape. Desperating renewed, she threw her head back and hit him in the nose. This finally shocked him enough that his grip loosened and she was able to break free. She ran for her hammer and ran back to the door with him trying to catch her, blood now dripping from his nose. She gave the doorknob a good thwack and then another before it fell off and she was able to force the door open just as his hands latched onto her belt and hauled her backward.

With the door open, she screamed down the corridor. “Help! I’m being attacked! Help--”

The man covered her mouth once more and picked her up like a sack of potatoes. He ran toward the window and started to punch the bullet proof glass with his metal fist. With his hand off her mouth, she began screaming again, until he gave her a solid hit to the back of her head and dazed her. She felt consciousness slipping away from her, but kept her eyes open long enough to see another long haired, tall form come rushing through the door to the sparring room.

There was a burst of green energy and then Jaklyn blacked out.

Chapter Text

When she opened her eyes again, Jak was staring at the ceiling of the infirmary. She heard voices nearby and closed her eyes again so that she could listen.

“...situation under control,” Steve was saying, “It won’t happen again.”

“Under control? So you caught the guy? Because last I checked, he’s nowhere to be seen,” Tony Stark retorted, “If he really is who you think, then you’d better get to him before I do, Cap.”

“He’s not himself. I need to talk to him, to snap him out of it. I just need--”

“I need to keep my people safe,” Tony said, somehow managing to sound serious and snarky at the same time, “If I see him again, I’ll put a blast right through him. He is not getting away with trying to kill my janitor.”

“He wasn’t going to kill her,” Steve replied, sounding tired.

“How do you know? He gave her a concussion, didn’t he? What’s to say he wasn’t going to cut her throat next?”

“If he wanted her dead, we’d be planning a burial right now, not rescheduling her parole hearing.”

A shiver ran down Jaklyn’s spine, even though the attacker had told her plainly that he wasn’t going to kill her. Whoever the man with the metal arm was, it sounded like Steve Rogers knew him. Worse, it almost seemed like he was defending him.

“Fine. He wasn’t going to kill her. But he wasn’t sitting down for tea with her either. If he shows up, you’d better get to him first,” Tony warned again, “Because if I don’t end him, Loki will.”

The green blast of energy… it must have been Loki, Jak decided. Perhaps he’d been nearby and heard her calling for help. Or maybe Friday hadn’t been as disabled as the intruder thought and sent word of the danger. Jaklyn wondered where Loki had gone if he’d actually been the one to save her. Why wasn’t he there, arguing with Steve and Tony?

“He was here earlier,” Wanda’s voice whispered from nearby. Jak’s eyes flew open and spotted the other woman at the foot of the bed, a small smile on her otherwise worried face. “Dr. Cho made him leave because he kept getting in the way.”

“Jaklyn,” Steve stopped fighting Tony for a minute and hurried to the bedside. He put his hand on the headboard and smiled tiredly down at her, “You gave us a scare.”

“Hey kid, don’t even worry about the parole board hearing, okay?” Tony said, “I explained what happened and it’s all rescheduled. Are you feeling alright? You want something to eat? You ever tried shawarma?”

“No food for her yet,” Dr. Cho stepped into the scene, tablet in hand. “Give her some space to breathe, she is probably confused.”

“Right,” Tony nodded and took a step back, “Sorry kid.”

“Mr. Stark, I’m more than two hundred years older than you,” Jak laughed, though it sent a splitting pain through her head, “I’m not a kid.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re ancient,” Tony dismissed, “How do you feel? Do you remember your name? Your birthday? Who is the president?”

“My mother never let me get involved in politics,” she sighed, pressing her palms to her eyes, “After the excitement of George Washington, I never really knew who the president was.”

Wanda laughed at this and Dr. Cho seemed impressed.

Jak supposed her statement wasn’t entirely true. She remembered hearing her father’s associates curse the name of Franklin Roosevelt. And she’d heard about the Kennedy assassination… well before it actually happened.

“We’ve got to get you registered to vote,” Steve muttered, “It’s your civic duty.”

“At this moment, we need to get her healed first,” Dr. Cho leaned forward and gently pressed the back of Jak’s head. “It is not a serious concussion, but I want to monitor you for a few days before you get back to work. No climbing on ladders.”

“I’ve already got a temp in for you,” Tony piped up, “You can take as much time as you need.”

“Loki will want to know she’s awake,” Wanda said, giving Jak a sly wink, “I will go tell him.”

“Tell him, but do not let him back in here,” Dr. Cho frowned, “He keeps trying to cast a spell on her even though I told him that she will heal on her own.”

“What… what did he do to the intruder?” Jak asked, “I saw magic.”

“We’re not really sure what he did,” Tony put his hands on his hips, “But it scared the guy off and made him drop you. The cameras were out in that room and Friday’s speaker’s were disabled so all we know is what Loki told us and for once, he’s not being chatty.”

“Can I see him?”

“No,” Dr. Cho said firmly, “In fact, you should not even be talking to these others. You need to give your brain a rest from stimulation while you heal. Everyone out.”

Tony nodded and gave Jak one last pitying, worried look before he left. Wanda was close behind, waving goodbye. Steve lingered at the bedside for a moment longer. Before he left, he reached down and gently squeezed her hand. Then the doctor shooed him away and began checking Jak’s vitals.

.

.

It was another day before Jak saw anyone besides Dr. Cho. Eventually, while the doctor was off at some virtual meeting with her team in Korea, Loki snuck into the infirmary, disguised as one of Dr. Cho’s assistants. He dropped the glamor once he was sure they were alone and then smiled toothily at Jak, who was enjoying a sandwich when he appeared. She nearly choked on her food when he revealed himself and had to spit out  the bite of bread, lettuce, and turkey in what she was sure was a very attractive fashion.

“I know you’ve been dying for my company, but please don’t actually die after I went to all that trouble to save you,” Loki offered her a silk handkerchief that she used to wipe her face of crumbs and mayonnaise. 

“You scared me,” she accused, “You’re not allowed in here.”

“The places I am not allowed are generally the best places to be,” he swept closer to her and sat gracefully at the foot of the bed, long fingers fiddling with the stitching on the hem of the sheet. “Helen Cho said it would be an entire week before she let me see you.”

“I’m supposed to be resting,” Jak replied, though her head had stopped hurting after the last time she slept and she was beginning to feel restless. She’d had a few concussions in her long life, but she’d never been so thoroughly coddled before. It felt infantilizing. And boring.

“Yes. And you will continue doing so until the doctor clears you to do anything else,” Loki replied, turning to stare at her, “But I don’t think one visit from your daring hero will set your healing back too much, do you?”

“Daring hero indeed,” Jak set her sandwich and the handkerchief to the side and crossed her arms. “Thank you, by the way.”

“My pleasure,” he gave a small bow from where he was seated, “And of course now that you owe me a life debt--”

“Ha.”

“Well, can I at least convince you to have that picnic with me once you are well again? That is all the thanks I require.”

“I already said no. The concussion didn’t make me forget that.”

Loki sighed dramatically and gave her a withering look. “If I weren’t such a gentleman, I would say that I should have let that intruder take you. But as I am so well rehabilitated, I will accept your decision with decorum.”

“I wonder what he wanted,” Jak murmured, pulling her knees up to her chest, “Steve thinks that if he wanted to kill me I’d be dead.”

“He didn’t say who sent him I suppose?” Loki’s fingers began tapping rapidly on the mattress, “I nearly had him, but he was a wily one. I only managed to leave my knife in his shoulder.”

“You stabbed him?” Jak asked, impressed.

“Yes, and he stabbed me right back,” Loki lifted his shirt to show a bandage stuck to his side. Jak leaned forward, holding her breath at the sight of his exposed skin, but trying to focus on the wound.

“Are you okay? It must not be very deep if you’re walking around like normal.”

“Oh it was,” Loki tucked his shirt back in and smiled smugly when he noticed the disappointment on her face, “I heal much faster than you humans do. It’s nothing more than an inconvenience.”

“Too bad,” she tsked, “If it were a really bad wound, I might be guilted into going on that date with you. But if you are so powerful, I’m sure you were never really in any danger at all.”

He frowned at her and crossed his arms. After a few moments of silence, he smiled again.

“Your hearing has been rescheduled. It won’t be long now before we can begin with your lessons,” he leaned in closer, hands on either side of her thighs, but not close enough to touch. “Won’t that be fun?”

She felt her cheeks burn red, but she didn’t break eye contact with him, despite the chill that ran through her veins whenever he got this close. Her tongue felt like a dry sponge and her brain, though abuzz with activity, could not process a coherent thought.

“Fun,” she nodded, finally. She was gathering enough cognition to speak again when one of his hands left the bed and traced up and down her arm. 

“We’ll be spending lots of time together once this wretched dampening cuff is off,” his fingers wrapped around the device and squeezed. He could have broken it if he wanted to. Jaklyn knew how strong he was. It would have been like cracking an egg to him. But he let go and resumed lightly trailing his hand along her arm until she was able to force herself to pull away from him, breath catching in her throat. His smile widened and he leaned back again. 

“And, of course, with this maniac out to get you, I just wouldn’t feel right leaving your side,” he looked down his nose at her, beautiful eyes piercing into her, “I’ll be your tutor and your bodyguard.”

“I don’t need a bodyguard,” she said. She wasn’t sure she could survive him following her everywhere she went all the time. Especially because, when he wasn’t making her flustered, he was irritating her.

“Oh certainly not,” he said, voice heavy with sarcasm, “And I’m sure the assassin will just leave you alone now.”

“Well,” she crossed her arms and raised her chin, “If you scared him off as well as everyone thinks, then maybe he will stay away. Besides, he’s not going to be able to break into the Compound again. Mr. Stark will make sure of that.”

“And what of when you leave the Compound? Your hearing is going to be in Manhattan after all. In a city like that, anything can happen. I’ll be going with you to make sure nothing does.”

“You really think my parole hearing will go more smoothly if I have an alien warlord there with me?” She scoffed, “Maybe Dr. Banner was right. You are crazy.”

Jak felt a pang of sadness when she remembered that Bruce Banner had disappeared almost two years ago, after fighting Ultron. No one had any idea what happened to him or the Quinjet he’d been flying. It was as if he simply vanished from existence.

He’d always been kind to her and kept her in the loop about all of the latest Avengers gossip.

“I’ll go in disguise.”

“That will make it ten times worse if you’re caught! You aren’t going.”

“I am never caught,” he said in a dangerous voice, “I am the god of tricks, lies, and mischief. The only times I have been caught it has been because I mistakenly trusted the wrong people.”

He stood and towered over her, but his voice still slithered in her ear as if he were a devil on her shoulder. 

“Are you saying I can’t trust you, my dear janitor?”

The word “janitor” should never have been used as a pet name in the entire history of the world. But somehow, it still sent a shiver down Jak’s spine.

“Well,” she cleared her throat and did her best to channel the cold confidence her mother always possessed when speaking with people she considered beneath her. “Since it’s my neck on the line, it doesn’t really matter, now does it? If you are present at my hearing, it is I who will have to trust you . And the fact of the matter is that I don’t, my dear prince.”

“So you are as wise as you are beautiful,” he laughed, sounding like a true villain, “Very well. I will not accompany you to the hearing, but neither will Captain Rogers.”

Jak thought of how it sounded like Steve was defending her would-be kidnapper. She frowned.

“That’s fine by me.”

“Good,” Loki purred, “As much fun as your stubbornness is, Jaklyn, it is nice to see a bit of accommodation as well.”

“I think instead of Steve, I’ll ask Thor to go with me,” she replied and then discreetly hit the button on her bed to summon one of the infirmary staff.

Loki’s face twitched in annoyance, but just as he opened his mouth to make a retort, Dr. Cho herself entered the room and shooed him away, angrily scolding him in Korean.

“ Neon choeag-iya! Jal-ga!” *

To the surprise of both women, Loki replied: “ joesonghaeyo”. **

Dr. Cho blinked in surprise and then a small smile graced her lips. 

“Does Thor speak Korean too?”

“Not as well as I,” Loki gave an exaggerated bow and then looked at Jak, “There are a great many areas where my brother is inferior to myself.”

“Hmm, but he is more handsome,” Dr. Cho decided and closed the door to the infirmary in Loki’s face. Jaklyn couldn’t help but laugh at that.

*(You are the worst! Bye!)

**Sorry

Chapter Text

Once Jak was fully healed, Loki made sure to keep to his promise. He followed her everywhere she went. When he had free time, he even kept watch outside her bedroom while she slept during the day (not that he told her that). As she resumed her custodial duties, he ensured that she kept to Dr. Cho’s advice to take things slowly and stay off of ladders. Though the cleaning and repair work was tedious and boring to observe, Loki kept himself occupied by creating illusions to tease Jak.

He created bats hanging from the gymnasium ceiling, conjured a fake beehive in the bathroom, and made magical flowers appear between the tiles on the kitchen floor. When his illusions stopped fooling her and she started ignoring them, he switched to full blown pranks. His favorite was when he set off one of the sprinklers, but replaced the water with green dye. Jak had not been amused to find the lobby covered in his signature color and she’d made him clean it up.

After that, he switched to watching her, but not saying or doing anything. He simply followed and observed, hoping this behavior would spook her into speaking to him. Unfortunately, his plan backfired and she seemed to enjoy the quiet, putting in her earbuds and ignoring him completely. He gave up that notion quickly and decided that, instead, he would talk her ear off and hope to compel her into conversation.

He focused on subjects that she might have experienced as well, relaying tales of his trips to Midgard in the past two centuries. And sometimes that worked. 

He told her about the time he’d danced with Queen Marie Antoinette and she’d told him that her father had spent some time in the French court. Though she’d never been allowed to visit until after the aristocrats had all been beheaded.

He spoke of a misguided adventure that he and Thor had in Las Vegas in the 1950s that involved a mob boss, a casino, and dressing up as showgirls. Jak had laughed and asked for every detail and then told him about the few years in the same decade that her mother had found them both work at a hotel called Caesars Palace in Vegas while they mourned the death of her father. She didn’t seem particularly upset about his death when telling of how she met Frank Sinatra while serving drinks in the casino.

He mentioned that he spent some time aboard a pirate ship in the early 1800s, freeing the individuals trapped on slaving ships. This made her smile and then grow sad. When he asked what she was upset about, she shakily told him that her father had been heavily involved in the slave trade. She scowled and called the dead man a bastard, the first true hostility Loki had heard her use toward her father.

After that, Loki decided to keep from mentioning the darker parts of history while in conversation with her. Not that it mattered because from then onward, she barely responded to his stories. He wasn’t sure if it was the memory that had quieted her or the quickly approaching parole hearing. Either way, since she wouldn’t talk to him, he returned to his silence as he guarded her.

The night before her hearing, he used illusions to hide himself from her vision entirely. He’d told her earlier that he had other business to attend to that evening so that she wouldn’t be suspicious of his absence and then he watched her to see how she would behave when he wasn’t around.

The first thing she did was put on headphones and play music from her cell phone. It occurred to Loki that, if he’d really been bothering her when he followed her around, she could have just ignored him by listening to music instead. But she hadn’t. She’d listened to him instead of her music.

As the night progressed and she moved to mopping floors, a small smile graced her lips. She took the phone out of her coverall pocket and turned up the volume before taking a few steps away from the bucket of water. Her footsteps moved in sweeping steps and her shoulders raised along with her arms. Her chin tilted upward and she began what Loki vaguely recognized as a waltz.

Jak spun around the room, occasionally dipping the mop in order to clean up a stain. Her pink ponytail bounced behind her and her coveralls made the soft swishing sounds of fabric on fabric. Loki wished he knew a spell to disconnect the bluetooth of her headphones so that he might hear whatever musical piece she was so entranced by. More than that, he wished that he could toss the mop away from her and take her in his arms to spin around. The hazy romantic feelings quickly changed to irritation when he saw Steve Rogers enter the room and stand, lurking in the doorway.

The Captain crossed his arms and leaned on the doorframe, watching Jaklyn’s every move with a soft, sad expression. The woman did not notice him, so absorbed was she in her waltz. Loki briefly considered throwing a knife across the room and pinning Steve’s guts to the wall, but he doubted that would win him any points with Jaklyn. Instead, he told himself that this is exactly what he wanted. He wanted to know more about the relationship between Jak and Steve and they would be more likely to talk about it if they thought they were alone.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you that standing in doorways is rude?” Jak asked sharply, finally noticing the Captain.

“Sorry,” Steve straightened up and stepped into the room, “I just wanted to check on you since you’re, uh, unchaperoned tonight.”

“Finally rid of him,” Jak said in what Loki hoped was a joking tone, “He’s been following me like a duckling.”

“Don’t call him a duckling,” Steve chuckled, “You’ll make him think he’s cute or something.”

“He is,” Jak smirked, “In a terrifying, alien warlord kind of way.”

Steve shrugged and shook his head a little. “If you say so. He’s not really my type, but to each their own.”

“And, if you don't mind me asking,” Jak took a few steps closer to Steve, “What is your type?”

“Girls who dance,” he smiled a bit sadly and Loki hoped the Captain was reliving painful, grief-filled memories. He deserved every bit of anguish. Well… he probably didn’t deserve it, but Loki wished it upon him nonetheless. 

“How long were you watching me for?” Jak tucked the mop away in her cleaning cart and awkwardly wrapped her arms around herself.

“Not long, but I should admit that I’ve seen security footage of you dancing with the mop before,” Steve scratched the back of his head, “I may have… watched it a few times.”

“Steven Grant Rogers!” Jak laughed and her cheeks flushed red. Loki grit his teeth. He didn’t think it was a laughing matter. The Captain had clearly been stalking her. Watching her without her realizing it? That was creepy and obsessive. 

And certainly not something Loki was doing that very moment.

“You move like someone who’s been dancing all their life,” Steve said.

“Thank you for not saying I move like I’ve been dancing for two hundred plus years,” Jak teased, “I do so hate to be reminded of my age.”

“Where did you learn to dance? Here? England? Didn’t you spend some time in France too?”

“Yes, and my personal maid taught me a bit of ballet while we were there, but my mother always despised ballet. It was considered rather, uh, promiscuous at the time,” Jak blushed, “Though I’m glad to see that its reputation has changed.”

Loki suddenly had no other wish but to see Jak in a tutu, dancing ballet. From the sound of her voice, she had clearly loved it. Or at least felt wistful about it.

“You learned ballet in France, where did you learn to waltz?” Steve asked.

“Vienna,” she sighed and struck up her dance position again, “At that time, I was fifteen and my father was interested in me for a short while. I realized later that he was only interested because boys were beginning to be interested in me and he wanted to secure a match. He made sure we went to every ball that he had connections at. My mother was on his arm, beaming as if she’d swallowed the sun.”

Jak spun and closed her eyes as if picturing it. Then she stopped and sighed again, looking back to Steve.

“But it didn’t last long before… well, it’s the same old story every time, isn’t it?” She frowned and shook her head, “Sorry. I won’t bore you with the details. To answer your question: I learned to dance all over the world. Every place has their own movements.”

“I’ve traveled the world, but I still only know a little foxtrot and a bit of swing. And something Tony taught me called the Macarena.”

Jak really laughed at this and Loki made a note to look up the Macarena. He could learn it too if it was that impressive to her.

Not that he, a god , needed to impress a simple Midgardian woman. Obviously.

“I can show you how to waltz,” she said, “It’s easy.”

“I don’t know…”

“Steve, if you can throw your shield so that it perfectly bounces off twenty surfaces, knocks out a bad guy, and then returns to you like some kind of frisbee-boomerang, you can manage a waltz, give me your hands.”

She took Steve’s hands and held one, placing the other lightly on her back. Loki decided that this was probably the best possible time to interrupt and he disguised himself as Thor before stomping loudly across the floor. Both Jak and Steve jumped in surprise, stepping away from each other hastily.

“Lady Janitor! Are you prepared to face the parole board tomorrow?” Loki asked, mimicking his brother’s thunderous voice, “This floor is well cleaned. You ought to go to bed so that you can get plenty of rest before tomorrow! It would not do to have you fall asleep before the board!”

“Uh, well, I still have plenty of other floors to mop,” Jak blushed and cleared her throat, “I should probably get back to work. Err, thanks for checking on me, Steve.”

“Yeah. Of course. Anytime,” Steve backed away and nodded at Loki, “Thor. Jak. Goodnight.”

When he was gone, Loki said a few more over-excited things and then wished Jak a good night before leaving her alone. He cast another illusion over himself to make her not see him and then went back to watching her. 

She did not dance again that night.

Chapter Text

When the black Stark Industries vehicle pulled up to the Compound after the hearing the next day, Jak, Thor, Tony, and Rhodey got out and made their way in. Jak ignored Steve and Loki both watching her from the lobby and went to Wanda instead. She grinned and pulled back her sleeve to display the dampening cuff still on her wrist. Colonel Rhodes took a device out of his pocket, entered a code, and the lights of the cuff turned off.

Wanda clapped in excitement and pulled Jak into a hug.

“Congratulations!”

“Thanks!” Jak replied breathlessly, her hair began to float behind her and her skin took on a faint pink glow. “Whoa…”

“You are pink,” Wanda said, pulling back and pursing her lips, “Are you supposed to be?”

“Um,” Jak smoothed her hair and took a few deep breaths to dispel the glow, “It’s fine. I’m just out of practice. Huh. That didn’t happen at the hearing. Thank goodness.”

The parole board had asked her to display her magic without the cuff so that they could gauge her control. She hadn’t had any problems then, casting small spells and relishing the feeling of her magic being accessible again. It had been a few years since she’d been able to use it and she hadn’t realized until then that she’d missed it. With access to her power once again, she felt stronger, healthier. 

“You are excited,” Wanda said, squeezing her shoulder, “I’m sure that is all.”

Jak’s hair began floating again and she anxiously glanced at Colonel Rhodes. Deemed the “most responsible” and “least likely to commit treason” of all the Avengers, he’d been put in charge of monitoring and moderating her magic usage. He was chatting with Tony and Thor and not paying attention to her anymore. 

Jak tugged at her ponytail and practiced her breathing until she felt the wave of magic lessen. She could feel the power drumming against her ribcage in time with her heart, but refused to let it out right away. The last time she’d been in control of her magic, she hadn’t actually been in control. Her mother used her own abilities to keep Jak from hurting anyone. Or, more accurately, to only hurt certain people. Her magic had been little more than a puppet under her parents’ control for her whole life. When she’d finally broken free and helped the Avengers fight her own mother, she had only been able to use her magic for a few short hours before federal agents cuffed her and kept her from finding out what exactly she could do on her own.

Dread built up in her stomach as she realized that she was about to find out exactly what she could do. She knew spells, but her mother had always helped her, channeling everything. Could she even do anything without that conduit? Or would the power overwhelm her? Worse, what if she barely had any magic at all? What if all she’d ever done was steal a bit of her mom’s power and make some flashing lights? 

“Don’t worry,” Wanda told her in a quiet voice, “We will learn together. You’ll do great. Do not let the nerves overtake you and ruin this exciting moment.”

Jak nodded. She didn’t think Wanda had read her mind directly, but she’d certainly picked up her emotions. Her hair had picked up her emotions too, it seemed, as now it was standing straight up and her skin was glowing again. She breathed deep and let Wanda soothe her… until Steve and Loki approached and made her anxious again.

“How did the hearing go?” Steve asked, smiling at her and politely ignoring the way her hair moved up and down as if it were underwater.

“It was great,” she told him, “The lawyer Mr. Stark got for me was super great and Thor wore that stupid t-shirt to cheer me on.”

She gestured over to Thor, who was wearing a t-shirt he’d designed himself. It read “Emotional Support Superhero” followed by a picture of Thor himself giving a thumbs up. Despite barely knowing Jak, he’d been a great help in keeping her calm and had even told the parole board that he was certain she was “totally mentally stable and much less likely to stab someone than my brother”. The parole board had asked a few questions about Loki and the idea of him teaching her magic and Thor quickly amended that Loki hardly ever stabbed anyone these days and definitely didn’t encourage others to stab people either. He showed them a picture on his phone of him and Loki, arms wrapped around each other, smiling. They looked like a couple of completely average, happy brothers in the photo, but Jak knew they’d argued for half an hour right before the picture and only took it to make Loki look more reformed. She appreciated the effort, even if Loki had nearly stabbed Thor in the process.

“Not to toot my own horn, but I did submit a full report to Agent Woo, telling him that I thought you should be allowed to have your magic back,” Steve told her, a hint of pride in his voice that he quickly squashed with humility. “But I’m sure it was you yourself that convinced them in the end. Anyone can just look at you and see that you are in a much better place than you were a few years ago.”

“Thanks,” she blushed, though it wasn’t exactly a compliment. Her blush must have annoyed Loki because he quickly butted into the conversation.

“Now we’ll get to see what you’re really made of, hmm?” He caught her hair in his hand and wound it around his fingers before securing it to the back of her head with a conjured emerald pin. She didn’t have time to thank or scold him before he wiggled his fingers in her direction and she felt a spell fall over her.

“What are you doing?” She demanded, taking a step back.

“Just gauging what we have to work with,” he twisted his wrist and his spell ripped away from her. He must have liked whatever it was that he learned because he caught her hand and brushed a kiss to the back of her knuckles. “You and I are going to have quite a bit of fun it would seem.”

“Let her rest before you get right to training,” Steve protested, crossing his arms. “She’s had a busy day and she was up all night.”

“The sooner we start, the better. With that assassin still out there, don’t you think she ought to be able to protect herself?” Loki challenged, hand still holding Jak’s hand, grip tightening possessively.

“Of course, but he’s not going to attack today. Start tomorrow. She needs to eat and then go to bed. She won’t be able to learn anything on an empty stomach with a foggy head.”

Jak was going to say that with all of the adrenaline from having her magic back, she hardly had a foggy head, but Loki spoke again instead.

“As the one who will actually be teaching her, I think I will be the judge of when she is ready to learn. And I say the sooner the better, right Jaklyn?” He turned to her with an expectant and triumphant smile.

“Um, well,” she didn’t particularly want to start lessons right away. She wanted some time alone, with her magic. She wanted to get to know herself again. Feel the power and see what she remembered before probably embarrassing herself in front of Loki.

“Vis and I made a congratulatory cake,” Wanda piped up, gently swatting Loki’s hand so he let go of Jak. “I think we will all eat some cake and then let Jak have some time to herself. Then she can decide when she is ready.”

“Of course,” Steve nodded at Jak, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bark orders.”

“Well, what can I expect from a captain?” Jak teased, “It’s alright.”

“Foolish of me not to think of letting you have a moment alone,” Loki conceded, though he didn’t apologize, “Let us try the cake the robot and the witch baked.”

“Did someone say there was cake?” Natasha arrived in the lobby with a balloon in hand. She gave the balloon, which read “You Did It!” in bubble letters, to Jak.

“Cake?” Thor popped up like a prairie dog and soon all of the Avengers made their way to the kitchen to eat. Though Vision occasionally had slip ups in the kitchen due to the fact that he could not taste, the hazelnut and chocolate cake was delicious. Jak was even able to swipe an extra slice before Thor ate it all.

Just as she bit into the second slice, she felt a belch building in her throat. Raised to be a polite young lady of society, she pressed her napkin to her mouth and did her best to contain the burp. Her magic had other ideas and when she burped, a wave of magenta colored energy burst from her mouth and cracked the countertop. This startled her so badly that she accidentally released another wave of energy in defense and knocked over all of the barstools that they were sitting on. Everyone, save herself, ended up on the floor, staring at her.

“Jaklyn…” Rhodey said warily, “You doing okay there?”

“Y-yeah,” she replied shakily, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t… it was an accident.”

Wanda and Loki exchanged looks. Steve and Rhodey looked at each other as well. Thor was wiping cake off of his t-shirt, but smiled up at her assuringly.

“No harm done. When we were children, Loki would sometimes get terrible gas and every time he farted nearby windows would shatter!” The big blond laughed.

Loki scowled. “At least I never accidentally set the stables on fire by sneezing out a lightning bolt.”

“When my brother first got his powers,” Wanda said quietly, “He ran straight into a wall and broke three bones.”

“My first time with the wings, I knocked over my commanding officer,” Sam Wilson rubbed his forehead as he began righting barstools, “And I cracked a bunch of computer screens in the testing zone.”

“Ha!” Mr. Stark piped up, “I forgot about atmospheric icing with altitude increase. Plummeted a thousand feet, free falling. I was almost roadkill in a very expensive suit.”

“ Forgot about atmospheric icing,” Vision scoffed, “Forgive me, but I believe Jarvis alerted you to the icing and warned you to turn around, to which your response was ‘keep going’.”

“Forgot, ignored, to-may-to, tah-mah-to,” Tony waved the matter away and winked at Jak, “Point is, we’ve all had dangerous accidents, kid. Your burps aren’t going to kill us.”

“I hope not,” Jak sighed, “I don’t even know what I can do without my mother. I’ve never done this on my own before.”

“You are not on your own,” Loki said firmly, placing a hand on her shoulder. “But when I’m done with you, you’ll be able to take care of yourself if you ever do find yourself alone.”

“Colonel Rhodes, can you turn the cuff back on?” Jak asked, “Just while we’re eating?”

“You got it.”

They enjoyed the rest of their cake, all of them talking and laughing about some of their worst screw ups as superheroes. It made Jak feel somewhat better, but she still knew that they were all nervous about what she could do. They’d seen her as an enemy before and most of them had not taken the time to actually get to know her until recently. Hell, despite asking Steve to dance the night before, she realized that before Loki arrived, she’d been actively avoiding all of them. Not because they disliked her, but because she couldn’t shake the feeling that they didn’t trust her. And even though they were friendly now, and she was friendly back, she still felt the unease and the judging eyes. Would they ever be able to see her as just the janitor and not the person who invaded their home and tried to kill them?

“It takes time,” Wanda whispered, once again getting inside her head, “Helping them defeat an evil robot intent on destroying mankind doesn’t hurt either.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for the next evil robot,” Jak smiled slightly, her nerves easing a fraction. “Or alien warlord.”

“Perhaps we can convince Loki to pull a stunt and have you save the day,” Wanda teased. “Though I don’t know that he’d do anything to help you be in Steve’s good graces.”

“Are you talking about me?” Loki asked from the otherside of the kitchen. “I thought I heard my name and my ears are burning.”

“Why would we talk about you?” Wanda called back, “You already insert yourself into every conversation.”

Loki rolled his eyes and moved closer. He must have noticed Jak’s anxious expression because he smiled warmly at her. It was, perhaps, the first smile she’d seen from him that wasn’t hiding ulterior motives.

“If they can trust Bruce Banner to hold his beast back, and if they can let me share a living space with them after what I did, they can get used to your magic. Whether you can control it right away or not,” he said it in such a low voice that only Jak and Wanda could possibly have heard him, “And if they can’t, I watched Colonel Rhodes put the code in the remote so all I have to do is steal it and the three of us can become a wicked coven and take over the world together.”

“Does this mean we’re a club?” Jak laughed, trying to hide her blush, “The Magic Users Who Used to be Enemies of the Avengers Club? We should get jackets. I’ve never been part of a club before.”

“We are a club,” Wanda decided, “And I am the club president.”

“You are the youngest!” Loki protested.

“Beauty before age,” Jak said, her worries beginning to fade.

“I beg your pardon, but I am the oldest and the most beautiful,” Loki gasped in fake offense, “And I know the most about magic!”

“You’re also the most arrogant,” Jak teased. “Which, I’ve heard, is almost a requirement for politicians. Maybe he should be president.”

“No, no,” Wanda gathered red magic in her fingertips, “I will be president. Or I’ll be forced to change your minds the hard way.”

“You can be president,” both Loki and Jak decided at once.

All three of them broke into laughter, drawing attention from the other Avengers. When Tony asked what was so funny, they laughed even more. Jak’s fear of her power vanished completely for the time being. It was hard to be afraid when she had such powerful allies.

Chapter Text

Rhodey allowed Jak an hour of time with the dampening cuff turned off before lights out that night. Normally, it would have been the time when she was pulling on her coveralls and gathering the various keys and fobs she needed to do her job. However, since her hearing had been in the morning and they’d been celebrating most of the afternoon, she hadn’t really had time to sleep in the last twenty hours. Tony convinced her that the Compound would be fine without a janitor for a night or two while she adjusted to having magic again.

Of course, there was still the matter of not being able to sleep in the dark, but very few people knew that and Jak didn’t want to cause a fuss. So, she planned to stay up, in her room, testing her magic all night and then sleep during the day. She could just hear Loki’s mocking voice asking her why she couldn’t just turn the light on in the room while she slept. But she’d tried that before and it didn’t work. 

She hadn’t always been nocturnal. Proper young ladies did not stay up late, her mother always chided in her mind. Proper young ladies slept in night gowns and curlers as well, but Jak had left those things behind when she’d discovered the blissful comfort of flannel pajama pants. And she found curling irons much more convenient than tying twists of hair with old rags. Not that she really curled her hair these days anyway. 

After her mother had died, Jak’s mind simply would not allow her to sleep at night. A new fear of being alone in the dark had started at that time as well. This fear had recently been justified when the assassin kidnapper person had been standing outside her window that one night. Since then, she’d put up thick curtains that she kept closed after dark and flung wide open in the day, even when she was sleeping.

With the curtains closed, the lights on, and a nonsense video playing on her phone to provide auditory company, she was just fine to sit in her room and let her magic flow through her. She could have been working, but she really was too tired to do much, and she knew one of the Avengers or Loki would order her to go back to bed if they caught her mopping floors. So, she kept to herself and experimented.

She found that her skills weren’t as rusty as she’d worried. She could still use a spell to change the color of her hair from pink to brown, or blonde, or auburn, or black. Altering the appearance of her clothes was easy. Though she’d never had true telekinetic ability, she could gather enough power to lift objects and bring them to her or push them away. There were certain spells she could not recall without her mother there to whisper them in her ear, and she was wary of trying any weaponized or defensive magic, but she had impressed herself with what she could still do and the command she had over her power.

Until she sneezed and the pencils and pens flew off of her desk and stuck in the ceiling like throwing darts. Horrified, she quickly blew her nose to try and deter any more sneezes, but another came anyway and her mattress, with her on it, lifted from the bed frame and floated around the room like Aladdin’s carpet.

“This is fine,” she told herself, “No one is hurt. It’s not that far from the ground if I need to jump. And if the mattress falls, it’s a mattress, so it won’t hurt when I land on it.”

Her forced calm began to chip away when she couldn’t figure out how to get the mattress to lower with magic. Eventually, she had to jump, nearly twisting her ankle in the process. The mattress remained floating around the room and after several attempts to subdue it back onto the bed frame, she gave up and texted Rhodey to turn the dampening cuff back on. As soon as he texted her back with a thumbs up, the mattress hit the floor with a loud thump .

Her bedroom door flew open and Loki burst in.

It was a good thing she didn’t have access to her magic, otherwise she wasn’t sure what her reflexes would have done. Her non-magical instinct was to scream until she realized who he was. And then she pointed angrily at him.

“What are you doing in my room?! I locked that door!”

“Are you okay? I heard a noise,” Loki looked around and saw the mattress on the floor, “Why is that there? Are you… redecorating? At one in the morning?”

“Your room is too far away from here to have heard that thump,” she accused, “What were you doing? Standing outside my door?” 

She looked at the door behind him and saw that he had snapped off the knob, leaving a twisted, broken piece of metal. She’d have to get her toolkit and a replacement knob now. Though she no longer feared Loki doing anything to harm her, it made her uncomfortable how easily he could break into her room.

“I’ve told you before that I am to be your bodyguard until you can properly defend yourself or until the assassin is caught,” Loki replied, crossing his arms and looking down his nose at her as if she were the one being unreasonable. “What was the noise?”

“I’m fine. It’s none of your business,” she snapped, “Get out and leave me alone. Don’t Asgardians need sleep?”

“As if you are one to judge sleeping schedules,” he said scornfully, “You’ve been awake far too long. I’m genuinely shocked that you haven’t passed out yet. I may cast a sleep spell on you just so you don’t break your fragile human mind.”

“Don’t you dare!” She jumped back from him, terrified that he would force her to go to sleep. “I’m completely fine!”

“Your nose is bleeding,” he pointed out.

“What? Oh,” she touched under her nose and her fingers came away sticky with blood, “That’s probably because I sneezed too hard. Not because I’m sleep deprived.”

She picked up a tissue and pressed it to her nostrils.

“Jak, if I’m going to teach you, I need you to be able to function,” Loki said, “In order to function, you need to sleep.”

“I don’t sleep at night,” she replied, “And if you make me, I’ll, I’ll-- I don’t know what I’ll do, but you won’t like it!”

It didn’t help her argument that she was too tired to properly form sentences, but she wasn’t going to let him knock her out. He might be growing on her, but she didn’t trust him to use a sleep spell on her.

He narrowed his eyes and raised his hand as if he was going to cast a spell anyway, but he stopped himself. With a great sigh, he stalked past her and picked up her mattress, putting it back on the bed. He straightened the sheets and threw the pillow on top, followed by the quilt. His fingers paused over one of the quilt squares, which was embroidered with two names.

“Who are Ruth and Joyce?” He asked, his voice soft.

“It’s not important,” she crossed her arms. He looked back at her with a raised brow as if to say she was being silly for not sharing such information. Her tired brain must have agreed, because she eventually muttered: “Ruth was a name I used to use. In the thirties and forties. Joyce was the name my mom used at that time.”

“Did you make this blanket?” He asked, taking in the well worn and over-patched fabric. It didn’t look like more than a tattered old rag anymore, but it used to be beautiful.

“It was for a contest,” she shrugged, “Right before we left America to go to be with my father in Germany, my mother and I were part of a group of wealthy southern women. They had maids to do almost everything for them, but they liked to take on projects like knitting and quilting and embroidery. They had a friendly contest for the best quilt in the town we lived in.”

“Did you win?” Loki asked, clearly not impressed by the old thing.

“No,” she took the tissue away from her nose and found that it had stopped bleeding. She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands, “My mother purposefully made some of the stitches sloppy because the prize quilt was going to be hung in town hall. When our quilt didn’t win, they gave it back to us, Mother tightened up the stitches and then packed it away to come with us to Germany. She wanted me to give it to my father as a birthday gift.”

“I suppose he didn’t find it good enough?” Loki asked, his voice suddenly bitter.

“I suspect he wouldn’t have,” she fought a yawn, “But I never found out.”

“Why not?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be training me in magic in exchange for this kind of information?” She frowned.

“I won’t charge you a question for tomorrow’s lesson if you finish the story now,” he offered. She wanted to say that she’d already answered several questions, but she was too tired to argue much more and there wasn’t much left to the story anyway.

“We didn’t get to Germany until after his birthday had passed that year,” she looked at the quilt and was glad she’d never given it to her father, “We were in the country for almost a year-- staying at a Hydra base, schmoozing with Nazi officers and their families. Truly some of the worst people I’ve met. We had a party planned for my father’s birthday, but knew it had to wait because the Hydra leader had plans for Father. Plans involving the new great American hero, who was blasting his way through Hydra’s forces. This new great American hero also blasted his way right through my father. My mother kept the quilt packed safely away for a long time. We had a storage unit with some of our more treasured belongings from over the years and when the feds were going through it after she died they let me keep the quilt.”

Loki stared at her curiously for a long moment. 

“Captain Rogers killed your father.”

She nodded.

The Asgardian prince sat down on her mattress and drummed his fingers on the quilt in thought. His piercing green eyes never left her face, as if he was expecting her to say more. She’d already decided that anything else he wanted to know would have to be part of their bargain. Telling him about how her father died and how Captain America had come to be her sworn enemy -- at least for a time -- was far more information than she had expected to give.

“Do you always sleep with this quilt?” Loki finally asked.

“Usually, yes,” she shrugged, “Both of my parents were horrible people, but it is nice to have something to remember them by. Why?”

“Are you aware of the enchantment woven into it?” 

“I beg your pardon?” She blinked in shock. 

“I do love it when you beg,” he grinned and then returned his fingers to the embroidered names on the quilt, “Someone has sewn a very interesting bit of magic into your quilt. I take it, you did not do that yourself.”

“This is news to me,” she stepped closer to examine the blanket, “I suppose I have always noticed a smell of magic, but I assumed that was just an old scent from my mother. What sort of enchantment is on this quilt?”

“To answer that fully, I must ask a question first,” he responded, “Did your father often take lovers other than your mother?”

Jak gaped at him, her cheeks going red at the nature of the question. She would have liked to yell at him that it was none of his beeswax, but now she was more curious than ever about the quilt.

“It is within the realm of possibility,” she managed to answer, “He was quite handsome, never aging, very powerful, and he did not actually love my mother from what I could tell.”

“Would you wager that your mother knew he had other lovers?”

“If he did, she probably knew. Her magic worked with minds, like Wanda, but less focused and far less powerful,” Jak felt her skin crawl when she remembered how her mother used to use magic to wrench secrets from her mind and the slaps that would follow as punishment for keeping secrets or telling lies.

“I think she enchanted this quilt to torment your father and his other lovers when they spent time together,” Loki chuckled, “It is stitched with fear and discomfort. These quaint little fabric squares hold powerful feelings of guilt and unease. Either your mother did not want your father to get any sleep, or she wanted to make him and his mistress feel guilty.”

“My mother did have a tendency for jealousy,” Jak couldn’t stop staring at the blanket. She’d started using it only after her mother died. The same time when she’d started having sleeping problems. “But it only does that at night! I can use it just fine in the daytime.”

“Well, it is eighty years old or thereabouts,” Loki stood up and pulled the quilt from the bed with him, folding it crisply, “And it sounds as if your mother was crafty, but not particularly powerful. Fabric enchantments rarely last even this long, so I am not surprised that it only works at night, when cruel magics thrive.”

Jak was completely astounded by this revelation. She looked at the folded quilt in Loki’s hands and wondered if she ought to burn it. Her mother had wanted her to give it to her father for his birthday. Most years, they presented the gift together or her mother alone would give him something. But she’d been insistent that Jak give it to him on her own. If her father had detected the enchantment in the blanket, he would have thought Jak did it. He would have punished her, not her mother. Because her mother wanted to torment him with the blanket, but she didn’t want to risk his wrath if she was caught. She knew he’d never permanently hurt Jak because she was his offspring and still useful to him. With Jak grown, her mother was no longer quite so useful.

Loki interrupted her revelations when he set the quilt down on the desk and put his hands on his hips.

“So now you should be able to sleep quite peacefully in your bed at any time you’d like,” he smiled, “Go to sleep.”

“I’m fine, I don’t--”

“It wasn’t a suggestion, Jaklyn darling,” he stepped behind her and pushed her toward the bed, “Sleep. Now. Or I’ll make you.”

“I’ll be cold,” she protested, “Apparently my blanket is evil.”

“So resistant to do what is good for you,” Loki grumbled, “Lie down and I’ll make you warm.”

Now she wanted even less to lie down. She shook her head.

“No! I will not have you in my bed! That’s absurd!”

He smirked at her and she felt stupid.

“I wasn’t planning on joining you… not tonight anyway,” he pulled off his long jacket and offered it to her with a more sincere smile, “I only meant to cover you with this. It can hold up against the chills of Jotunheim, I think it will keep you warm in your own room.”

“Oh.”

“Just lie down, you stubborn bilgesnipe,” he pointed at the mattress and she reluctantly sat down. When she was too slow to recline, he impatiently lifted her feet from the ground and rolled her into a lying position. She yelped in surprise and he tossed the jacket at her. It was warmer than it looked, lined with a dark, short, fine fur.

“Doesn’t quite reach my feet,” she pointed out, curling up into a ball, “I won’t be able to sleep like this.”

He rolled his eyes and leaned down close to her. He rested one hand on the bed next to her face and the other on the jacket. Magic thrummed through it and transformed the jacket into a blanket of the same color and material. Then he moved so close that his lips brushed her ear.

“Go. To. Sleep.”

A chill raced down her spine and for a moment she was certain she’d never be able to sleep again. But then he gently brushed her hair from her face and turned to leave. He collected the evil blanket and stepped toward the door. As he reached for the light switch, she called out.

“Wait!”

“Yes?”

“Could you leave that on? I don’t want to wake up in the dark. Even without the enchanted quilt.”

He nodded and reached for the broken doorknob.

“Loki?”

“Yes?”

“Would you destroy that blanket for me? I don’t need that to remember my parents,” she closed her eyes, not wanting to see if he would mock or pity her.

“It would be my pleasure to incinerate this,” he chuckled. “Now stop stalling and sleep.”

“Wait, Loki?”

“Norns, what is it, Jak?”

“Thank you,” she kept her eyes closed, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Not long after he left, she fell into the best sleep she’d had in years, day or night.

Chapter Text

“Don’t push her too hard today. She’s already unsure of herself, she doesn’t need to overdo it. Make sure you encourage her. She probably didn’t get any positive reinforcement from her mom so -”

“Captain, I’m not going to be a heartless drill sergeant,” Loki sneered, taking a sip of coffee as he and Steve Rogers both ate breakfast. Thor was on the other side of the room, building a tower using bagels for bricks and cream cheese for mortar. Vision was at the stove, scrambling some eggs for Wanda. Everyone else was either still sleeping or training.

“He’s not a bad teacher,” Wanda piped up. She was aimlessly levitating a salt and pepper shaker in the air, twirling them around each other as if they were dancing. “And I will be there to make sure he is nice to Jak on her first day of magic lessons.”

“She won’t be having any lessons if Colonel Rhodes doesn’t agree to deactivate her cuff,” Loki impatiently tapped his fork on the counter, “Where is he anyway?”

“He and Tony are talking about suit modifications in the armory,” Steve said, setting his own fork down and crossing his arms. Loki mimicked his pose just to be petty.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter. Jak is not yet awake either.”

“How do you know?” Steve asked suspiciously.

“He’s spying on her,” Thor said as he added the last bagel brick to his construction.

“What?”

“I’m not spying on her,” Loki glared at his brother, “I’m protecting her.” 

“How?” The good Captain demanded.

“He cast a spell on her bedroom door,” Thor grinned at Loki, pleased to be giving away all of his secrets. “He knows when she comes and goes and can get a sense of what she’s doing. So he can’t see her, but he knows what she’s up to.”

“That is creepy,” Wanda frowned, dropping the salt and pepper shakers, “Loki, you have to undo it.”

“Until the kidnapper is caught and dealt with, I intend to protect my student in any way I see fit,” Loki sneered, wondering how in the nine realms he was going to keep them from telling Jak about his spell on her door. He knew it was not exactly the proper way to go about keeping her safe, but he couldn’t sit outside her door at all times. And it wasn’t as if he was watching her dress or anything. He was just aware of when she was awake or sleeping or if she was in danger.

“Wanda is your student as well,” Vision finished cooking the scrambled eggs and turned to glare at Loki. Though the robot man hardly looked threatening in his navy blue sweater and khakis with a floral apron over top, the Infinity Stone in his head was more than enough reason to fear him.

“Wanda is also fully capable of using her magic in a combat setting,” Loki replied nervously. He did not want to upset the witch or the powerful robot who pined for her. “She is more than capable of protecting herself. Jak has limited access to her power and we know an assassin of some sort is actively trying to kidnap her.”

“I’m going to tell her,” Wanda said, “And if she tells you to take the spell off her door, you are going to take the spell off her door.”

“You know that she will,” Loki pointed out.

“And if you know it too then perhaps you should not have cast the spell in the first place,” Wanda stood up, ignoring the plate of eggs that Vision offered her. 

“Loki, she almost left the Compound because you moved in, she doesn’t want you following her every move,” Steve said, also standing.

Loki rolled his eyes and picked up his fork again. He took another bite of his food and then leaned back in his chair. He smiled at Steve.

“Of course not, but I’m sure she’s just delighted that the man who killed her father is cornering her at night and waltzing with her. Or watching her on security footage over and over again. I’m sure that makes her feel safe .”

“She told you about her father?” Steve asked, muscles tensing as if he were about to start a fight. Loki almost hoped he would. Being on shaky legal ground as it was, Loki couldn’t risk throwing a punch himself, but no one could blame him for self-defense.

“Last night.”

The spell on Jak’s door triggered Loki’s senses. She was awake and headed toward the kitchen. He had about two minutes to make Steve into the villain. That, or create a distraction intriguing enough to make everyone in the room forget to tell her about the spell on her door.

“I didn’t corner her,” Steve was saying, “She was dancing and I was checking up on her. How did you even-?”

“She’s not a replacement for your lost lady love,” Loki said, doing his best to sound righteous and accusatory.

Wanda furrowed her brow and glanced at Steve.

“What?” The good Captain looked as if he’d had the wind knocked out of him. Loki would have smiled, but he didn’t want to spoil his game.

“Thor, Jane, and I spent a bit of time at the Smithsonian Museum,” Loki said, “There was a display about one Margaret ‘Peggy’ Carter. And a quote about needing a ‘raincheck for that dance’.”

Everyone in the room went deathly quiet and Loki knew that he had tripped the exact right or the exact wrong wire. Steve stepped forward and grabbed the front of Loki’s tunic.

“Maybe you should keep your mouth shut about things you don’t know anything about.”

Oh this was even better than he’d planned.

“Jaklyn is not a second chance with Agent Carter,” Loki replied calmly, “I won’t have you treating her like it.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about and I suggest you stop talking.”

Good, honorable, noble Captain America had never looked so livid and Loki was all too happy to make matters worse.

“I understand why she appeals to you. She was alive then. She knows what the world was like before you went in the ice. But you can’t substitute her for your Peggy just because of shared life experience. It’s time to move on, Captain.”

Steve punched him in the eye right as Jak walked into the kitchen.

“What the hell is going on?!” She yelped, jumping back.

Thor carefully pulled Steve away from Loki, though his glare was meant for his brother. The Crown Prince of Asgard was sharper than most people gave him credit for. Loki would, doubtless, have a bit of an argument with Thor later, but for now he pressed his fingers to his eye as if it hurt.

Actually, it did hurt a bit. He’d forgotten how strong that serum made Captain America.

“Don’t you dare talk about Peggy,” Steve pointed, Thor still holding his shoulder to keep him back, “You don’t know anything about it.”

“I know regret when I see it,” Loki countered, “And the look on your face when you watch her,” he gestured to Jak, who looked ready to run, “is not a look of someone falling in love, it is a look of regretting missed opportunities. You don’t care about Jaklyn. You just miss Peggy.”

Loki hadn’t meant to play therapist, but the stricken look on Steve’s face told him that he might have hit a little too close to the truth. The Captain took a deep breath and clenched his fists. He took one more lunging step toward Loki and poked him in the chest. His voice was nearly a snarl when he said:

“I’m not playing mind games with you, so stop trying to get in my head.”

And then he left, briskly nodding at Jak as he passed her, but not responding when she asked him what had happened. As soon as Steve was gone, with Thor following after, Jak’s too keen purple eyes turned on Loki. He avoided eye contact as he nursed his bruising eye.

“Was that fight about me?” She asked.

“It wasn’t meant to be a fight,” Loki responded, “I was just… making a point.”

“Wanda?” Jak turned to her friend.

“It was about you,” she confirmed. “Also, Loki put a spell on your bedroom door.”

“What kind of spell?”

“It is for your protection,” Loki replied, hoping she’d leave it at that. Of course, she did not do any such thing.

“What exactly does it do?”

Wanda told her everything that Thor had relayed.

“Dammit Loki, get rid of it,” Jak ordered, “You can’t just spy on me!”

“I’m not, I’m monitoring the room to make sure the assassin doesn’t get to you.”

“Why did I stay here?” She pressed her hand to her forehead and groaned, “A factory job would have been so much more peaceful.”

“And the assassin would have gotten you so much more easily,” Loki pointed out.

“Maybe he wouldn’t have been after me at all if I didn’t mess around with the Avengers,” she looked up at Wanda, “I’m going to do maintenance on the roof. Make sure he doesn’t follow me up there.”

Wanda nodded.

“The roof?” Loki asked, immediately wary.

“Since I was able to sleep last night, I have plenty of energy. I don’t do roof maintenance at night so this is the perfect time. If you follow me up there, I’ll push you off,” she threatened.

“This is the thanks I get for keeping you safe?” He challenged.

“I can’t deal with you right now,” she left the room and Wanda blocked Loki from following her. He scowled and sat back down.

“Give her space,” the witch suggested.

“Of course,” he replied.

As soon as Wanda let down her guard, he planned on going straight to the roof. He would spew whatever heartfelt apology he needed to in order to calm Jak down. He’d make all the amends that he could, teach her a lesson in magic, and maybe even lie about taking the spell off her door. 

And poor Captain America would think twice before initiating any sort of romantic interaction between himself and Jak. Loki had made it so Steve would no longer be able to think about courting Jaklyn without wondering if he was trying to replace Agent Carter.

Despite the black eye, it turned out to be a decent breakfast. Certainly productive.

Chapter Text

She heard him follow her onto the roof, and she was tempted to do as she’d threatened and shove him over the side. But she doubted attempted murder would look very good on her record. Not that she thought he could possibly die from falling off the roof - he was too sturdy for that if he was anything like his brother - but she didn’t want to risk it. Instead, she ignored him and attacked a malfunctioning air conditioning unit with a screwdriver.

Her heart was still racing from whatever had been going on in the kitchen. It wasn’t like Steve to just randomly punch someone in the face. Not someone who wasn’t actively threatening the free world anyway. So, Jak assumed Loki had done something to provoke the good Captain. Probably something related to Peggy.

Jak had never met Agent Margaret Carter, but she’d seen the Captain America propaganda films back in the day and heard the dramatized radio shows. She knew that Peggy had been promoted as Steve’s lady love and was often made to look like a damsel in distress. Considering Peggy Carter had been one of the founders of SHIELD, Jak very much doubted the woman had ever been as helpless as the radio shows depicted her.

As far as she knew, Agent Carter was still alive, but she had to be in her nineties. Not that Jaklyn was any younger, but she was fairly certain Peggy didn’t have mystery magic in her veins keeping her young.

Speaking of magic, Jak caught a whiff of it and when she looked over her shoulder, Loki was holding a small bouquet of heather flowers and smiling apologetically at her. She didn’t buy the innocent look for one second and she quickly turned back to her work on the air conditioner.

“I didn’t mean for that conversation to escalate the way that it did,” Loki commented.

“Yes you did,” she scoffed.

He chuckled and set the flowers on top of the air conditioner then crouched next to her.

“You’re right. I did.”

“Go away or I might forget my manners and knock you off the roof.”

“My apology flowers will not soothe you in the least?” He asked.

“Maybe if they were accompanied by a genuine apology they would,” she picked up the flowers and threw them to the breeze. They didn’t make it all the way off the roof before getting stuck in a corner. “But you aren’t actually sorry, are you?”

He was quiet in response, which was basically affirming what she’d just said. She sighed heavily and set down her screwdriver. She sat on the ground and stared at him, trying to figure out what to do with the mush of emotions battling in her brain.

“I am genuinely sorry that I’ve made you mad at me, if that helps,” he offered, sitting down as well and stretching out his long legs in front of him.

“It doesn’t.”

“Thought as much,” he nodded. “I can’t regret trying to protect you, though.

“I’m not sure I see the correlation between riling Steve up and protecting me,” she frowned. “Even if he’s still in love with Peggy, he isn’t going to hurt me.”

“I meant the spell I put on your door,” Loki said hesitantly. She’d nearly forgotten about that offense, but now that he’d brought it up, she had questions.

“What exactly does the spell do? You aren’t… watching me, are you? Seeing me sleep? Get dressed?” She wondered how many times she’d picked her nose since he’d bespelled her door. Had he seen that?

“It is not a spying spell,” he told her, “I can only get a feeling for your aura and energy. If you are in the room, if you are awake, if you are scared or in danger.”

“Hmm,” she tapped the screwdriver head on the cool surface of the roof. “Not peeping in on me then?”

“No,” he replied firmly, and then his oily smile slid into place, “I could caste a different sort of spell if you wanted me to-”

“ Loki ,” she snapped, pointing her screwdriver at him menacingly and he put his hands up.

“Only if you want me to!”

“Don’t. You’re on thin ice as it is,” she lowered her tool and sighed, “The current spell can stay. But no new spells without asking me first.”

He blinked in surprise. “You’ll let me keep the spell?”

“Are there reasons I shouldn’t?” She challenged, “Do you have nefarious plans in the works?”

“Oh I always have some machination brewing,” he waved the matter away, “But none for you, my dear. Well… none that are particularly nefarious anyway.”

“That’s not reassuring,” she said, but couldn’t help a small laugh. She wasn't particularly upset about the door. It was sort of endearing in a way, that he wanted to keep her safe. Truth be told, she was still terrified that the assassin might find a way to get to her. At least now she knew that someone would come to her aid if she needed it. It was unlikely that the assassin could turn off a magical spell the way he’d turned off the security cameras and deactivated Friday.

She was still annoyed with Loki for angering Steve to the point of violence, but she supposed she could somewhat understand that too. Part of it was her fault. She was not being particularly clear with either man about her feelings. Mostly because she wasn’t certain of them herself, but she had known the situation between the three of them was bubbling into something potentially volatile and she hadn’t done anything about it. 

At the moment, however, she didn’t want to talk to Steve and she didn’t feel like talking about feelings with Loki either. Not after everything she’d shared the night before. Not after he’d given her his jacket to use as a blanket. Not after he’d made Steve mad enough to hit him. Right then, she just wanted to fix the stupid A/C unit.

Until Loki made a different suggestion.

“I hope you didn’t forget in all of the excitement this morning that I owe you your first magic lesson,” he said as she resumed her work. She looked up at him.

“That’s true. You do owe me after all the answers I gave you last night. I practically told you my life story!” She joked, wondering if she could possibly convince him that her father’s death and the weirdly cursed quilt were the most interesting things about her history.

“I’ll make it an especially long lesson then,” he promised, jumping to his feet and giving the A/C a kick. Something clicked into place and when she reassembled it, the damned thing worked perfectly.

“If part of the lesson is how to fix air conditioners with just a kick, I’m all ears,” she gaped at him.

“That was just luck,” he chuckled, helping her to her feet, “Text Colonel Rhodes. Have him unleash your magic and I’ll show you how to do something really impressive.”

“Here on the roof?”

“Why not? I promise I won’t let you fall if that’s what scares you,” he was still holding her hand from helping her up and he gave it a gentle squeeze that sent goosebumps all along her arms.

She turned away and quickly texted Rhodey. He responded with a thumbs up and a moment later, the lights went out on her cuff. Her hair began floating above her immediately and when she looked at her hands, she saw that her skin was glowing pink again. Embarrassed at her lack of control, she quickly smoothed the hair down and ducked her head. She took a few deep breaths and was able to get herself under control in a matter of seconds.

When she looked at Loki, he was studying her carefully.

“What’s our first lesson?” She asked, shifting her weight awkwardly.

“Why does your hair do that?” He stepped closer and picked up her ponytail, running his fingers through it. “And why does your skin glow? Has it always done that when you use magic?”

“Well…” she licked her lips and tried to steady her breathing again. It was hard to do with him standing so close. “Whenever I was fighting, yes, I suppose, that happened. Not when I was just doing mundane things. Or small spells.”

“How long of a period of time are you allowed to go without the cuff being turned on?”

“It’s up to Rhodes,” she shrugged.

“Let’s see if we can convince him to leave it off for a day or two,” Loki let go of her hair and stepped back again, looking her up and down from the tips of her work boots to the top of her head. “Perhaps your body is not used to being powerful again and needs time to adjust.”

“I was fine during the hearing. No floating hair or pink glow.”

“You were under pressure to do well at the hearing,” Loki pointed out, “That might have allowed you to maintain your control.”

He walked in a circle around her and put his hands on her shoulders, making her jump and her hair fly into the air, slapping him in the face. He batted the pony tail away with a miffed sputter.

“Sorry,” she winced. Her mother would have swatted her for that, but she doubted Loki would. Despite startling her the first time they’d met and despite the fact that she’d kicked him across the room, he had never raised a threatening hand to her.

“Survival instinct,” he mused, “Your magic might be acting as a shield toward what it perceives as dangerous.”

“Does my magic have a mind of its own then?” She joked, not liking the idea one bit. Her parents had used her powers for their own purposes for so long, she’d been looking forward to using them for herself. 

“It’s more like a reflex,” Loki explained, “Like blinking.”

He passed his hand in front of her eyes and she blinked on cue.

“I don’t see your hair floating up in the air every time something startles you.”

“I’ve centuries more practice than you,” he explained, “My mother taught me how to control my magic from the moment it was known that I possessed the ability. Your mother bent your powers to her will and left you with the skills of a toddler.”

“Not a toddler,” Jak crossed her arms, “Surely in two hundred plus years I’ve learned a bit more skill than that.”

“You think so?” He smirked at her, “Then, by all means, show me what you can do.”

“What do you mean?”

“Give me a demonstration of your skill,” he shrugged, “Fire a blast of controlled energy. Use a spell to change my appearance. Read my thoughts like Wanda does. Hell, go wild and pull a rabbit from a hat. Show me what you can do.”

Jak tensed. For some reason, she found that she didn’t want to show him any spells. In all her life before, she’d only seen her mother and father use magic apart from herself. Now that she’d seen what Loki and Wanda could do, she was intimidated. 

But Loki was watching her expectantly and if she didn’t do something he would tease her even more than if she tried and failed. So she held her hand out and used a bit of power to summon her screwdriver from where she’d left it. The tool flew into her hand. She wanted to transform it into something else, like a knife or a flower, but all she managed to do was change the color of the handle.

“Alright,” Loki raised a brow, “Perhaps you are at the level of a very smart Asgardian toddler. But a toddler nonetheless.”

Annoyed, Jak changed her hair color from pink to red, white, and blue. She tried to give herself freckles in the shape of stars, but couldn’t see her own face to see if she’d accomplished it or not. As a finishing touch, she created little fireworks in the palm of her hand. It was still pathetic, she knew. And Loki seemed no more impressed than he had been by the screwdriver.

He fluttered his fingers in her direction and her hair changed back. Her coveralls became long, black robes, and a pointed hat showed up on top of her head. He reached over and plucked the screwdriver from her hand and turned it into a bird, which flew off the roof.

“Please don’t turn all of my tools into birds,” she commented, watching the bird fly out of sight, “I won’t be able to do my job.”

“You are woefully uneducated in the mystic arts, my dear,” Loki tsked.

“How do you know I’m not just… un-powerful?” She asked, “Maybe all this time my mother was giving me her strength and now that she’s dead I’m weak.”

The idea had been haunting her ever since she’d gotten her powers back.

“You are not as powerful as Wanda,” Loki said and then shivered slightly, “There are few who are, so that is not particularly surprising. And you are not as powerful as I am, clearly. But there is a decent amount of magical energy in you. I can sense it.”

Her skin began to glow again when he said that and a pleased warmth spread under her skin. It was reassuring to know that she wasn’t completely useless.

“You just need to master it and then you’ll be a most effective little witch,” he flicked the brim of the hat he’d conjured onto her head, “Now, do you remember any sort of combative magic? Blast me with a ball of energy!”

“I’m not going to attack you!” She protested.

He waved his hand and her clothes returned to their previous state. “I’ll be fine. You could barely hit me with your fists when we were training in hand to hand combat. I expect you won’t be able to do much damage this way either.”

She frowned at him, remembering how he’d pretended to be Steve. Then she remembered how close he’d stood to her when he was pretending to be Steve, and the way he’d carefully touched her arms to show her how best to throw a punch. She remembered the feeling of his breath on the back of her neck and the smokey-sweet smell of his magic. The glow of her skin burned brighter and she felt her face get hot.

“Hmm, we really ought to work on controlling that glow,” Loki commented, “We can’t have you shining like a beacon every time you try to use magic.”

“I can make it go away,” she muttered, breathing deep and clearing the light from her skin. It flickered back on for a moment, and then blinked out to her relief.

“Excellent. Now, as they say: hit me with your best shot.”

“The last time I used aggressive magic, I killed someone,” she frowned, thinking of her mother again. Sure, Steve and the others had helped, but she knew she’d struck the final blow herself. Even if it was better in the long run to have her mother gone, it was impossible to escape the guilt she’d felt in that moment. 

“If you kill me, the United States government will probably give you a medal,” Loki teased. He threw his arms open wide and smiled at her, “Don’t be a coward, Jaklyn, hit me. You had no qualms about kicking me when I was a small, defenseless puppy.”

“You weren’t defenseless and I was scared,” she crossed her arms. 

“If you’d like, I can annoy you until you want to attack me,” he snapped his fingers and the air conditioner she’d just been working on, stopped running again. Smoke filtered out through the top of it.

“Oh come on,” she groaned.

“That’s not even the worst of what I can do to irritate you,” he warned and flicked his wrist. The rest of the A/C units on the roof began smoking as well.

“Loki, quit it.”

“Attack me.”

“Fine! But I want it on record, Friday, that I did not hurt him on purpose, alright?”

“Noted,” Friday’s voice said from over by the door to the roof.

“Go on then,” Loki taunted, “What are you waiting for-- oof !”

She’d nailed him in the chest with a blast of magic and he doubled over. Terrified that she’d wounded him, she yelped and ran to his side to check on him. Just as she put her hand on his shoulder, a blast of green energy shot out and hit her in the gut. She went flying in the air and would have tumbled off the roof, if she hadn’t used magic to catch herself and land, somewhat roughly, on top of one of the smoking A/C units.

“What was that?!” She demanded, hoisting herself to her feet. Loki smiled at her and crossed his arms over his chest.

“A demonstration! Well done saving yourself. Never fear, I would have caught you if you hadn’t done it.”

“You little shit,” she snarled, stomping toward him, “You just told me to hit you, you didn’t say you’d hit back!”

“I doubt any enemies you encounter will give you that courtesy either,” he replied.

“Did my shot even hurt you?” She demanded, frustrated by his hasty recovery.

“It stung. Like a hefty bee. I know you were pulling your punches though. Now that I’ve nearly thrown you off the roof, perhaps you’ll be a bit less gentle?”

There was a challenge in his green eyes. It occurred to her that he might hit her again once she hit him. And if she wanted to prevent that, she’d either have to actually hurt him, or dodge.

She tried dodging first, blasting him with just slightly more force than last time. He rolled his eyes at her and fired back. When she ducked out of the way of his return volley, he swept his arm forward and a dagger of light caught her in the shoulder and knocked her on her butt.

“Ow,” she hissed, getting to her feet again and throwing another bit of magic. He flinched when it hit him, but then shrugged it off relatively quickly and sent out three blasts in her direction. She was fast enough to escape two, but the third hit her knee and knocked her down.

“Come on now, darling,” he purred, “You’ll have to put up a better fight than that. Stop trying to soften your blows and hurt me .”

She didn’t even have a chance to respond when he hit her again and knocked the air from her chest. In a moment of panic, she lost control of her magic and a blindingly bright pink explosion fanned out around her. Three air conditioners crumpled into shreds of metal and Loki flew backward and tipped over the edge of the roof.

Catching her breath, Jak ran to the edge and looked over. Loki had hit the ground, leaving a crater, but he was smiling from what she could see. He lifted his hand in a thumbs up.

“Brilliant!” He shouted up at her, “That actually really hurt!”

“Are you okay?” She called. It wasn’t a hugely tall building, but from where he’d fallen it was nearly four stories. And he’d hit the cement walkway.

“I think I might have broken a rib,” he said, still sounding excited.

Jak pressed the palms of her hands to her eyes. When she looked again, he was still resting in the crater and staring up at the sky.

“I’m in the slightest bit of agony!”

Jak sighed and started to make her way toward the stairs.

“I’ll go get Dr. Cho.”

Chapter Text

The longer she was able to use her magic, the better she became at controlling it. Because most of the Avengers trusted her, Rhodey allowed the dampening cuff to stay turned off all day every day for the next week. Jak grew more confident in her abilities and she and Wanda sparred with each other most days.

Loki had broken more than one rib in his fall from the roof and he’d managed to snap the bones in his forearm as well. Jak felt immensely guilty and avoided him while he healed in the infirmary. It only took him two days, given that he was a magical immortal man from outer space, but even once he had healed, Jak still managed to avoid him. Since she knew he was monitoring her door with a spell, she slept in a variety of odd places, such as the custodial office, Wanda’s floor, and once even in the vent ducts. During the day, she used her phone to view live security footage and keep an eye on the trickster so that she could know just what rooms to go to in order to avoid him.

Of course, the effort it took to actively avoid someone seeking her out was exhausting and she knew she wouldn’t be able to keep it up for long. And despite her growing memory of how to use her magic, she still wanted Loki to teach her how to use it more effectively. She hadn’t even gotten a true lesson in before she’d knocked him off the roof.

“He knows I’m hiding you in here,” Wanda commented, walking into her bedroom with a plate of food.

Jak looked up from her phone. In her free time, she’d been trying to learn more about social media. YouTube had sucked her into an endless trail of interesting videos about historical fashion. She very much enjoyed judging how accurate these videos were and reliving some of her favorite styles.

“You aren’t going to let him in, are you?” she asked, wincing.

“No,” Wanda set the plate on her desk, in front of Jak, “But you need to talk to him. He isn’t mad about the roof.”

“I know he’s not.”

“Then why are you hiding in here?” Wanda put her hand on Jak’s shoulder, “Not that I mind the company, but you and I both know you can’t avoid him forever.”

“I don’t know,” Jak sighed and picked up the fork, she took a bite of her food, chewed, swallowed, and then looked Wanda in the eyes, “I want to learn from him, but he makes everything so complicated.”

“What’s complicated?” Wanda asked, sitting on her bed.

Jak set her fork down again and rubbed her forehead. “He’s… this is stupid.”

“What?”

“He’s very good looking.”

Wanda laughed lightly. “Yes, I suppose he is.”

“And he seems to be interested in me. Possibly romantically?”

“Yes?”

“But it is probably just manipulation, right? No one in their right mind would trust the god of tricks and lies. I don’t know what he might be scheming, but I don’t trust for a second that he feels anything for me beyond interest in my past. He’s curious about me and as long as I have secrets he’ll find me worth his time. But he can’t possibly like just me .”

“Can’t he?” Wanda asked, “Why not?”

“He accused Steve of liking me just because I remind him of Peggy. I think Loki only likes me because I’m something interesting to pass the time while he’s on earth. I’m like, like a waiting room magazine!”

“What?”

“I’m interesting enough to keep him occupied in a boring situation, but once he’s flipped through all my secrets he’ll set me aside and forget me,” Jak picked up her fork and took another bite of food.

“I shouldn’t tell you this, but when I am around the both of you, his mind is a bit chaotic,” Wanda said.

“That seems normal for a man who was tortured into trying to take over the planet,” Jak replied, “I’d be more surprised if his mind wasn’t constantly chaotic.”

“Oh it is, but it is a different madness than when he is around the others. Like he is unsure of himself. Like he wants to impress you and capture your attention the way you’ve captured his,” Wanda leaned closer and lowered her voice, “Sometimes I have to actively block his emotions because he projects them so loudly around you.”

Jak felt her cheeks go red and she focused on eating until she could put together a coherent thought.

“Really?”

“He likes you. And I get the feeling you like him too.”

“Are you reading my mind?”

“No, but you practically have hearts in your eyes,” Wanda laughed and pulled her legs up to sit pretzel legged on the bed.

“I do not!”

“If you weren’t worried about him tricking you, would you finally agree to go on a date with him? I know he’s asked you.”

Jak suddenly felt a wave of panic rush through her. Her hair lifted into the air and her skin began glowing. Her plate of food began to float away and small items throughout the room joined it. 

If Loki actually liked her then it would be okay for her to like him too. She wouldn’t have to scold herself and tell herself that he was up to no good. And then she had no defense to his winning smiles and pet names. She had no excuse to turn him down because she did actually want to spend time with him. The notion was terrifying.

And exciting.

She took one deep breath and all of the floating items in the room dropped. With a quick apology to Wanda, she stood and left the room. She didn’t have to go far before she came across Loki, boredly lounging on a table, reading a book. He looked up when she stepped closer and when she watched his expression closely, she could see him fighting a genuine smile, covering it up with a bored quirk of his mouth and a raised brow.

“Ready to apologize at last?” He asked.

It threw Jak off and she stopped walking. Her arms crossed at her middle and she hunched her shoulders forward slightly.

“What?”

“For throwing me off the roof?” He sat up and closed his book, dog earring the page.

Jak swallowed nervously. In her conversation with Wanda, she’d forgotten about what had caused her to start hiding from Loki in the first place. Her first instinct was to say sorry and ask how his healing process had been. But she ignored that instinct and forced herself to focus on why she’d actually sought him out.

“You owe me a magic lesson.”

“You think so?” He set the book aside and slid off the table, crossing his own arms as he took a step closer to her. She didn’t move and soon he was nearly on top of her, leering down from inches away.

“Our bargain was that if I answered a question, you’d teach me magic. I answered several questions and you didn’t teach me anything,” she jutted out her chin and did her best not to look away. She had the sudden thought that his eyes were spectacular.

“I suppose not,” he mused. “What makes you think I still want to teach you? After all, you broke my bones and then abandoned me. You’ve been hiding from me for a week. Clearly you have no interest in being a diligent student. I cannot be an effective teacher if you only let me teach on a whim.”

“Well, I suppose if you don’t want to teach me, then there is nothing I can do,” she shrugged, her racing heart clashing with the casual gesture. “I will tell Rhodes to turn the cuff back on and ignore you if that’s what you want.”

“You’re terrible at bluffing, dear,” he took a step back and then leaned down so that they were eye to eye, their noses nearly touching. “But luckily, I would be happy to give you a lesson. In magic, not bluffing. I suppose I do owe it to you.”

“G-good,” she nodded and then worked up her courage, “And as a show of good faith, I’ll even answer another question.”

“Oh yes? Hmm, well let me think of what I’d like to ask -”

“I’ll answer a question you asked me a while ago,” she continued and took a deep breath, “You asked me why I wouldn’t go on a date with you.”

He didn’t hide his expression this time. It was pure shock.

He stood tall and blinked at her, opening his mouth and then closing it again with a curious tilt of his head. His confusion gave her confidence and she plowed forward.

“I wouldn’t go out with you because I didn’t think you actually wanted to go out with me. I assumed you just wanted to manipulate me and learn my secrets so that you can forget about me. Or that I was just an amusing way to pass the time.”

He opened his mouth again but she cut him off.

“So now you answer one of my questions, Loki: why do you want to go on a date with me? Tell me the truth so I can know how to treat you. Are you just my magic teacher? Or are you interested in me as a person as well?”

He was quiet for a long moment and she thought her heart might beat out of her chest. She wasn’t sure that she’d ever been so scared of hearing an answer before in her life.

“I’m gonna go,” a voice piped up. Jak jumped in surprise when she saw Sam Wilson standing in the corner of the room. It looked as if he’d been tinkering with Red Wing, his drone. He’d been so quiet she hadn’t even noticed him sitting there.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered as he walked past, “I didn’t mean to… we can have this discussion elsewhere. You don’t have to leave.”

“No, no,” he chuckled and punched her shoulder very lightly, “This sounds important. Don’t let him weasel out of an answer, alright? If he does, dump his ass.”

She nodded, too embarrassed to do anything else and watched Sam walk away. When he was gone, closing the door behind him, she turned back to Loki and saw him smirking.

“I suppose I’d better tell you what you want to know before he tells the Captain and we are interrupted.”

Jak hadn’t even thought of that, though she knew Steve and Sam were close friends. She hadn’t even thought of Steve at all. Or how he might react to hearing about the conversation she was having with Loki. Would he be upset? Surely not. She liked him. She enjoyed his company, but she could never consider him anything more than a friend. And unlike with Loki, she had a valid excuse that could not be undone. Steve killed her father. And even though her father was a wicked, awful person, he’d still been her father and Jak could not forget.

“I find you fascinating, Jaklyn,” Loki spoke up, interrupting her thoughts, “And for a time, I was annoyed at myself for being so concerned with a Midgardian. My brother is hopelessly in love with one of your species, though we all know he will outlive her by a millennia or two. I try my best to learn from and avoid my brother’s mistakes.”

Jak held her breath.

“But it would seem that you are, perhaps, not as short lived as the rest of your species. So I am no longer irritated at my fascination with you,” he clasped his hands behind his back and looked her up and down, “But, to answer your question truthfully, I must say that I do not know you well enough to be certain of how I feel about you.”

“Oh,” she blinked, expecting a bit more of a dramatic answer. She supposed he made a fair point. She’d been avoiding him most of the time that she knew him, so how could he possibly know how he felt?

“I will say this though,” he leaned in close again, “I do find you attractive and I enjoy being in your company. Perhaps if you stop running off, I might get to know you better, hmm?”

“I’m sorry for avoiding you,” she said, an enormous pressure lifting from her chest now that he’d voiced his feelings. It would only be fair, now, for her to do the same. “I was embarrassed. I had so little control of my powers and I hurt you. I should have taken responsibility for what I did, but I was afraid I’d do it again or Rhodes might take away my magic.”

“The Colonel has been quite busy this past week, dealing with some impending threat or something. I think he may have forgotten you,” Loki chuckled and took a step back, leaning on the table he’d previously been lounging on. “As for my wounds, I am well healed and eager to help you stop yourself from unintentionally hurting anyone else. Of course, I will also be teaching you how to crush your enemies, but only when you want to.”

“Thank you,” she told him, a smile coming to her face.

“Also, I don’t think we should train on the roof anymore.”

“No, probably not.”

“Stark had a fit about the air conditioners we ruined,” Loki rolled his eyes, “I’m glad you’ve taken care of that issue while you’ve been avoiding me.”

“I’m glad Mr. Stark is a billionaire,” Jak laughed, “Those were expensive A/Cs!”

“We’ll train in the more indestructible sparring room, where Thor exercises,” Loki said and then got a crafty look in his eye, “Though, I’ll be sure to find somewhere a bit more atmospheric for the date I plan to take you on.”

“The date?” She choked.

“How will I ever have a more certain idea of what I feel for you if I can’t get to know you a bit better?” He challenged, “What say you to six o’clock this Saturday? We can go to dinner together, perhaps in town at a restaurant? I grow tired of the Avengers’ attempts at cooking.”

A familiar panic rose up inside her, but she pushed it back down and nodded with confidence she did not feel.

“Six o’clock. I can ask Mr. Stark if we can borrow a car,” then she paused and scratched the back of her head, “Err, do people still have chaperones for this sort of thing? Vision might be a good choice to -”

“Do you not trust me to behave honorably?”

“No, no! I’m sorry, I just… I’ve never been on a real date before and I haven’t courted anyone in almost a hundred years,” she rushed to explain and then backtracked, “But, no, I don’t trust you to behave honorably. Ever.”

“I suppose I can’t really be offended by that,” he sighed and fell into a dramatic bow, “But for you, I will be nothing short of noble, charming, and virtuous… until you wish me to be otherwise.”

The wink he threw in at the end almost made her cancel the date right then and there, but the goosebumps running all over her skin told her to just go with it.

Chapter Text

Loki did not consider himself to be vain. Of course, he knew that he was staggeringly handsome and carried himself with confidence. But on Asgard, there had always been Thor or Fandral to win the attractions and affections of the ladies of the realm. The younger prince had his fair share of dalliances to be sure, but watching potential romantic partners walk right past him to ogle his brother had kept him fairly humble.

Typically, he did not spend much time looking in the mirror, particularly because he could use magic to change his appearance however he wished. On the night he was meant to take Jak on a date, however, he felt as if he’d been studying his reflection for far too long… and yet something still wasn’t right.

“It’s the hair,” Thor said from where he lay on Loki’s bed, bouncing a ball against the ceiling. Loki had not invited him, but word had gotten out about the date and Thor had eagerly decided to assist. So far his assistance had been limited to unhelpful remarks.

“What’s wrong with my hair?” Loki asked, putting his hands on his hips and turning to look at his brother.

“Too greasy. Try fluffing it up a bit! Mother always said your curls were cute,” Thor teased.

Annoyed, but having no better ideas, Loki waved a spell over his head to remove the styling gel he used. His hair was not truly curly, but there were some waves and it did look softer. Perhaps more inviting for his date to reach out and touch…

“There!” Thor boomed, “Handsome as ever, brother! Are you going to wear that?”

“No,” Loki magicked his tunic and trousers into a pair of dark gray slacks and a white button down shirt. He added a green tie and a gray blazer, but decided they were too much and removed them again.

“Perhaps a watch,” Thor suggested, missing catching the ball and cringing when it hit him in the eye. “I have found that women have a strange fascination with wrists and hands.”

“What?” Loki asked, unable to hide the amusement in his voice. “How did you learn this? Did you take a formal poll?”

“No,” the big blond sat up straight, “Jane, Darcy, and I were watching a film titled Pride and Prejudice and there was this man who flexed his hand and both of them were infatuated. They spent nearly fifteen minutes discussing how much they liked it. They also mentioned that rolling up your sleeves after wearing them down for a while is very good.”

“Why? How much of a difference can rolling your sleeves up make?” Loki turned back to the mirror and rolled his shirt sleeves up. He raised a brow. “Hmm. I suppose.”

“You must start with them down though,” Thor advised, “And then, perhaps at a lull in conversation, roll them up. According to Jane and Darcy, the action is as attractive as the end result.”

“I’m surprised at you,” Loki put his sleeves back down and fastened the cuffs, “You must really like Jane to pay so much attention to such trivial details.”

Thor flopped back on the bed again and sighed with great gusto.

“I think I may love her.”

Loki had to literally bite his tongue to stop himself from making a comment about how Jane would age and die in a short time, while Thor stayed the same for centuries. It was true, but he didn’t want to ruin the small, contented smile on his big brother’s face. Besides, he was fond of the human scientist as well, though he rarely admitted it, and didn’t wish to speak ill of her.

A small spark of joy filled him for a moment as he recalled that Jak would not be subject to the same rapid aging. If he were to grow attached. He pushed the spark down and reminded himself that he barely knew her and this was to be their first date. He tried to make himself think of how she’d thrown him from the roof, but all he could think of was the excitement he’d felt when he managed to get her to actually attack him with her magic.

“Where are you two going to eat?” Thor asked, snapping Loki out of his thoughts.

“Friday tells me that in the nearest town there is an eatery with decent fare and romantic outdoor seating. And wine,” Loki sighed this time, “Though I wish it were from the vineyards at home. Midgardian alcohol is… well, I’m sure you’re aware.”

“Here,” Thor suddenly had a flask in his hand, though none of his pockets were big enough to hold it, “Add a splash of this to your drink and maybe you’ll enjoy it a bit more.”

Loki took the flask gratefully.

“Just be sure Jaklyn does not get any,” Thor chuckled, “It was not made for mortals.”

“In all fairness,” Loki patted Thor’s shoulder, “Neither were we, brother.”

A touch of sadness glinted in the elder’s eyes, but he hid it with another laugh.

.

.

As Tony Stark had insisted on driving them into town himself, Loki was forced to endure the billionaire’s company while he waited at the front of the Compound for Jak to arrive. Though the Midgardian genius was, as always, extremely annoying, Loki couldn’t help but think that, if they’d first met as allies, they might have gotten along well. Might have even been friends.

As things were, he was currently chanting under his breath “don’t strangle him, you’re rehabilitated, don’t strangle him, you’re rehabilitated” over and over again.

“I just realized something,” Tony interrupted his own tangent about the impracticality of Loki’s helmet, “You don’t have any money. How are you planning on paying for dinner?”

“Well--”

“Unless you’re going to make Jaklyn do it?” Tony sounded appalled and then smiled, “Maybe she insisted she should pay for it? Good for her, breaking out of those outdated societal norms she was raised on.”

“Stark, you pay Thor with Midgardian money to be an Avenger,” Loki said, “Thor lent me a bit of cash. I’ll pay him back with Asgardian currency later.”

“But if Jak wants to pay, you’ll let her, right?”

“I was thinking we’d split the bill,” Loki rolled his eyes and wished almost any other Avenger could have given them a ride. Except, maybe, Steve Rogers. That might have been a tad awkward all things considered.

“Good call, good call. Playing it safe on the first date,” Stark nodded and then bobbed excitedly, “Oh, hey, do you know what music she listens to? If the place you’re going has music playing you could ask the staff to play a song she likes. Did you know she’s a dancer? Or, at least, she likes to dance? I guess growing up the way she did that’s to be expected. Everyone danced in the days of yore, right?”

Loki mostly kept quiet for the ten minutes more they waited. Tony did not keep quiet at all, taking it upon himself to give Loki pointers on how to make the evening more romantic and occasionally tossing in a warning about keeping things “PG”, whatever that meant.

Finally, Jak stepped out of the Compound and both men straightened to attention. Tony let out a wolf whistle that caused Loki to elbow him a bit harder than he should have. The billionaire landed in a shrub.

The woman before them wore a knee length, A-line dress with cap sleeves and a slight V neckline. It suited her shape well, as did the sensible heels she wore. Loki only had one complaint with it and that was the color. It was a faded red that somewhat clashed with her hair. He guessed that it was on loan from Wanda based on the color. That witch did seem to have an affinity for shades of scarlet. 

“You look lovely,” he told Jak when she stood in front of him. She looked a bit nervous, standing with one arm awkwardly hanging and the other crossed over her chest. But there was a smile on her face.

“You look lovely as well,” she nodded at him.

“Say ‘senior citizen romance’!” Stark chirped, taking out his phone and snapping a picture of them. “That’s going on the fridge.”

“Mr. Stark, you know, I could drive. You could stay here,” Jak offered.

“Ms. Baker, I know for a fact that you do not have an up to date driver’s license,” Stark opened the back door of the car for her and she reluctantly climbed in. Loki followed after her, deciding it would be less awkward if he sat in the back instead of up at the front with Iron Man.

“I’ve been driving since 1972, Mr. Stark, even if I don’t currently have a license, I know what I’m doing,” Jak said. Her voice never took on an argumentative tone, despite the contradictory words. Loki had noticed that when she spoke to Stark, she had the utmost respect. Perhaps it was because she was technically his employee, but Loki suspected there was something else behind the deference.

“Be that as it may,” Stark replied, starting the car, “I want to see where you are going for dinner. You are both former supervillains, what kind of superhero would I be if I didn’t keep tabs on you?”

“The kind I might actually like?” Loki suggested in a whisper that only Jak heard. She hid a smile behind her hand as the vehicle pulled away from the Compound.

The three of them sat in silence until they made it off the property. Once they hit the road, Stark asked Friday, who was apparently installed in the car, to “set the mood”. The car speakers played the sound of a drum followed by passionate wailing from a saxophone.

Jak snorted loudly and slapped a hand to her mouth as she burst into giggles. Her face turned almost exactly the same color as her dress.

“I feel so unsure… as I take your hand and lead you to the dance floor…”

“Careless Whisper? Really, Mr. Stark?” Jak was full on laughing now and though Loki wasn’t sure what was so funny, he couldn’t help but smile as well.

“You’re right, you’re right,” Stark grinned at them in the rearview, “Maybe something a little less on the nose?”

Trumpets sounded this time and Jak’s embarrassed giggles turned to an excited smile as a warm, smooth man’s voice filled the car.

“Someday, when I’m awfully low, when the world is cold, I will feel a glow, just thinking of you and the way you look tonight…”

Jak sang every word along with the music, surprising both Stark and Loki with her own smooth voice. 

“Sinatra, huh?” Stark said, “I would have thought you were more a Dean Martin kind of girl. Or Perry Como?”

“No one compares to Frank Sinatra,” Jak shook her head and then relaxed into her seat and closed her eyes. Loki, recalling that she had told him she’d once met Frank Sinatra, paid close attention to the song. It was a love song. A bit sappy for his taste, but the singer did have a soothing voice.

“When you met him, did he sing?” Loki asked Jak.

“You’ve met Sinatra?” Tony asked, glancing over his shoulder with an expression of shock. “Did you get his autograph?”

“Well,” she opened her eyes and looked at Loki, “You know I was working at a casino at the time. He was not performing that night, and I certainly couldn’t have asked him to sing-- how rude would that be? So I never heard him sing in person, no. I did get his autograph…” she trailed off with a sad sigh, “But my mother hated his music so when she found out, she tore up the paper he’d signed.”

Loki winced. Odin had never been one for music, though Asgard thrived on strong voices and battle songs. He recalled once, when he was a child, the king had angrily dismissed a group of bards from the dining hall because he found the sound of them annoying. It might not have stuck in Loki’s memory so much if the dismissal of musicians hadn’t come right after Loki had said how much he enjoyed them. He wasn’t sure that was what tipped Odin into sending them away, but it was an odd coincidence.

“Clearly your mother was no great judge of music,” Loki told Jak, though he didn’t personally care for the song himself, “This is splendid.”

“Isn’t it?” She smiled again and leaned a bit closer to him.

“Hey! Don’t climb all over each other back there!” Stark snapped teasingly.

“Stark, why did you agree to drive us?” Loki asked, eyes narrowed, “I thought you did not want me to pursue any sort of relationship with Jaklyn.”

“I don’t really,” Stark shrugged, “But she seems okay with it and I’m sure the best way to drive you two apart is to let you get to know each other better.”

“I’m more than okay with it,” Jak reached out and took Loki’s hand, holding it tight and shocking him momentarily, “I think we’re going to have a grand time and maybe we’ll even go on a second date next week.”

“Alright, alright, I won’t interfere anymore. We’re almost to your restaurant anyway,” Stark turned the vehicle into town, “Everybody be on your best behavior. I’ll pick you up at eight.”

“Nine,” Jak said firmly.

“Eight thirty.”

“Perfect,” she nodded as they pulled up to a building that looked like it had once been a residence, but was now a busy eatery. There were strings of lights criss crossing over an outdoor dining area and crisp white tablecloths on every table. It was hard to consider anything “fancy” after growing up in a palace, but Loki supposed it as at least more romantic than the Avengers Compound kitchen.

“Alright kids, have fun,” Tony called to them as they exited the vehicle, “But not too much fun!”

“He does know we’re both centuries older than him, right?” Loki muttered as they half-heartedly waved goodbye to the billionaire.

“I suppose that’s the problem of magically stopping aging so young,” she shook her head.

“How old were you when you stopped aging?” Loki asked curiously. Given that he was in his thousands now, but he looked to be around the same age as Steve Rogers, and Steve Rogers was nearly a hundred, but looked to be younger than Tony Stark, he had a bit of a hard time gauging how old humans were.

“I’m not sure the exact age,” she said, “It’s hard to tell, since it takes a while to even notice that you’ve stopped aging, you know? But I think I was around twenty-five, or twenty-six? Definitely before thirty because my mother thought if I looked too old no man would want me. She and my father cast some sort of spell, I didn’t fully understand it.”

“Is there such a difference between twenty-five and thirty?” 

“I don’t think so, but you must remember that this was back in the seventeen hundreds. Standards for women were much harsher. And, of course, if I was perceived to be too old to have children, well, then I was practically worthless,” she scowled and then shook it off with a smile, “But we’re not here to talk about outdated social standards! At least, I hope not.”

“Certainly not,” Loki offered her his arm and she tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. Then he led her to the door of the restaurant, enjoying how close they stood. She smelled like lilac flowers and soap. He had a small moment of panic when he wondered what he might smell like, but decided whatever the scent was, it must not be bad, because Jak leaned closer to him as they spoke to the restaurant hostess.

“Could we eat outside?” Jak asked, “It’s such a nice evening.”

“Of course,” the hostess nodded, “We should have an outdoor table opening up in about ten minutes if you don’t mind waiting?”

“Do you mind?” Jak looked up at him.

“Not at all. If the lady wishes to eat outside, then we shall eat outside,” he told her.

“Aw, you guys are adorable,” the hostess told them, “Thank you for your patience. If you’d like to sit while you wait, there’s a bench right behind you.”

Loki led Jak to the bench and they sat.

“It smells amazing in here,” Jak took a deep breath. “Mm, like fresh bread.”

Loki took a whiff as well, and he did smell the fresh bread, but he also caught the scent of something else. Something that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he hastily took in their surroundings with a warrior’s eyes.

Nothing seemed amiss, but he could have sworn he smelled gunpowder. Perhaps the candles in the restaurant were confusing his nose.

Soon, their table was ready and they were led outside. He pulled back the seat for Jak first and she sat down, still smiling. He sat down himself and anxiously observed every other person around them. No one seemed out of place, or potentially dangerous, but he supposed neither did he or Jak and both of them had killed before.

“Can I get you started with wine? Or another drink?” The waiter asked them, appearing too suddenly for Loki’s liking. The man was short, bald, and smelled far too strongly of cologne to be working in such a nice establishment. All of this would have been fine, if the waiter weren’t also staring intently at Jak with a glint in his eyes that Loki didn’t like.

“Just water for me, thank you,” Jak told him, slouching behind her menu as if to make herself less visible.

Loki had been planning on ordering wine and then infusing it with just a few drops of the Asgardian alcohol Thor had given him. However with the smell of gunpowder still faintly in the air and the hungry way the waiter was looking at Jak, he wanted to keep his head completely clear. So he ordered water as well.

“You can drink if you want,” Jak said once the waiter was gone, “It won’t bother me.”

“Is there a reason you chose not to have the wine?” Loki asked, still watching the other diners intently.

“I… I stopped drinking during Prohibition,” she said, though it sounded like a partial lie.

“Prohibition?” Loki asked, finally looking back at her. She was fidgeting with her napkin and staring blankly at her menu.

“Oh, it was nearly a hundred years ago. To sum it up simply: alcohol sales were illegal. Most rich families still had it, of course, but my father was doing too many other illegal things to be caught because of liquor, so it was strictly forbidden for me and my mother as well.”

“There was a time when Midgardians made alcohol illegal?”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that, but yes,” she shrugged, “I was glad of it at the time.”

Loki sensed there was more to her personal experience. Something she didn’t want to say. Or maybe something she did want to say, but didn’t want to bring up for fear of being rude.

“Why were you glad of it?” Loki asked and then smiled to try and lighten the mood. The gaping waiter and the gunpowder had created an awkwardness around them. “I can’t imagine what would happen on Asgard if the people were not allowed to drink. Mead is a deeply ingrained tradition.”

“Having seen Thor drink Asgardian Mead before, I am well aware of that,” she laughed softly, lowering her menu shield. “I was glad there was no alcohol in our house because my mother used to put things in my drinks.”

“What?” Loki blinked in surprise, his focus fully on her now, “What sorts of things?”

“I never did find out, actually. I wouldn’t have even known if I hadn’t seen her do it once, a few years before Prohibition. The alcohol covered the taste of whatever it was entirely,” she began fidgeting with the napkin again. “I suspect it was something to… well, I don’t have any sort of proof and she’s dead now, so it doesn’t really matter.”

Loki remained silent for a moment, watching her intently until she spoke up again.

“It’s just… I noticed that whenever I had wine or any sort of booze, I always felt less in control of my powers. My mother mainly used me as a puppet anyway, but I still had some free will with my magic. Whenever I drank, it felt like I couldn’t even do the simplest spells. I never had that feeling during Prohibition and I stopped drinking alcohol when it was allowed again.”

“I never met you mother, but I grow to dislike her the more I hear about her,” Loki frowned, “Have you tried any sort of drink since she’s died to see if it affects you the same way?”

“No,” she ducked behind her menu again as the bald waiter approached with their drinks, “And I don’t think I will.”

“Two waters,” the waiter placed their drinks on the table and took out a notepad and pen, “Are you ready to order?”

They both told the man what they wanted, but unlike most waiters, he did not leave immediately after, instead standing and staring at Jak again. Her shoulders hunched inward and she busied herself with her water, no longer having the menu to hide behind. 

“Was there something else?” Loki asked, pulling the waiter’s attention to himself.

“Hmm?”

“Why are you still standing here?”

“My apologies, I could swear I’ve seen her before though. Do you know me, ma’am?”

Jak looked up at him and studied him for just a second before shaking her head.

“No, sorry, you must be thinking of someone else.”

“Oh, I’ve got it!”

Loki prepared to spin a lie if the man said he recognized her from the news.

“I’ve seen you in my dreams!”

He winked and then walked off. Loki scowled after him and considered a few courses of action that would, most likely, not be acceptable for a redeemed supervillain. He wondered if he could get away with turning the man into a rat when no one was looking.

“That was weird,” Jak laughed half heartedly. “We’re clearly on a date and he’s using pick up lines?”

“Shall I see if we can be waited on by someone else?” Loki saw the hostess pass by and began to raise his hand to flag her down, but Jak stopped him.

“No, it’s fine. He’ll bring us our food and check and then we won’t have to think about him again. Some people are just odd,” she smiled up at him, “Now, I’ve told you all kinds of sad shit about my life, tell me what it was like growing up as a prince.”

They fell into more normal conversation for some time. Loki tried to keep his stories of Asgard cheerful, or at least not about Odin. He spoke of Frigga often, though, telling Jak how much she would have loved her. He told her about the palace and a few minor battles he’d fought in, but tried to steer away from the past few years. She didn’t need to know about his plan to destroy Jotunheim. Though she, along with the Avengers, knew he had not been entirely responsible for the Battle of New York, he had no virtuous excuse for what he’d done while Thor had been banished.

“Is it weird to say that I would like to see you in a battle?” Jak asked with a laugh, “I’ve seen pictures from the invasion, but I imagine that seeing you in action would be… erm, well very cool.”

“I’m sure once you master your abilities you’ll be quite the site to behold in battle yourself,” he told her. He imagined her clad in Asgardian armor, wielding magic, standing at his side as they fought in tandem. They would be a force to be reckoned with.

“Chicken parmesan for you,” the waiter interrupted the fantasy by placing a plate of food right in front of him, bumping Loki slightly with his elbow. “And a nice risotto for the lady.”

They thanked him, but once again, he didn’t leave, just standing and staring at Jak. This time, Loki noticed that the man’s gaze dropped lower than her face, focusing on her chest area. She looked away from him, taking a bite of food instead. Loki took a bite as well and then snapped his fingers at the waiter, though his mother had taught him better manners than that.

“Yes, the first bite is delicious.”

“Huh?”

“I assume that’s why you are watching my date so intently? To find out if she likes the food? I can’t imagine any other reason you might be loitering at our table.”

“Yikes,” the waiter pointed a thumb at Loki, “Temper on this one, eh? They say that it’s a major red flag if your partner treats servers poorly, you know. Better watch out, ma’am.”

Jak frowned and finally looked the waiter in the eye.

“What do you want?” She asked him, her knuckles going white as she clenched her fork, “It’s not normal for the waiter to stick around and stare at the customers, is it?”

“Sheesh, alright, just thought I’d give you a warning,” the waiter put his hands up and walked away. Loki’s gaze followed him and saw that the bald man pinched a waitress’ backside as he walked past her. The woman frowned but didn’t say anything in objection. 

“I need to use the restroom,” Loki told Jak, "I'll be right back.”

“You aren’t going to escape me by sneaking out the bathroom window, are you?” She asked with a small smile.

Loki gently took her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles. “Never. If I don’t return, tell Thor to knock some sense into me with his hammer.”

He left her to follow the waiter. Changing his appearance with magic, he snuck into the kitchen and spotted the man he was after, chatting with one of the chefs, who was laughing along to what was being said.

“Should have seen the lady at table five,” the waiter was saying, “If it weren’t for the pink hair, she’d be a ten. Her knockers are a ten on their own. Too bad she’s all covered up in that frumpy dress--ugh!”

Loki grinned as a bit of magic hit the waiter’s stomach and filled the man with intense nausea. He threw up right there in the kitchen, on top of whatever the chef had been preparing. Cries of horror and disgust rang out all around him. Loki made his way back to the table, switching back to his normal appearance as he went. When he sat down at the table, he recalled one of the tips Thor had suggested and rolled up his sleeves to his elbow. Jak’s eyes were firmly on his forearms now and she paused, food halfway to her mouth. Evidently, Thor had been correct for once.

“I’ve just heard the unfortunate news that our waiter has fallen suddenly and inexplicably ill,” Loki smirked at her and picked up his fork, “Pity.”

“You didn’t!”

“I should have done worse. I followed him to the kitchen. He has a foul mouth,” he sighed, “If we were in Asgard I might have cut out his tongue for the things he said.”

“I shouldn’t find that romantic,” Jak said, her cheeks bright red, “I should find that horrifying.”

Loki’s smile grew and he lightly tapped her foot with his under the table. Her eyes widened and she quickly went back to eating her food. He laughed and did the same.

Once they’d finished their meal, it was only seven thirty and they still had an hour before Stark showed up to take them back. Jak suggested that they take a stroll around the small town and see what other businesses were open. Loki could hardly object when she was holding his hand.

“Oh, it looks like they have dancing going on in that bar!”

“I see that,” Loki peered through the bar window. It was not the type of dancing he preferred. The music was too loud, the people standing too close to one another, the “dancing” was nothing more than bobbing up and down on the beat.

“That’s not really my speed,” Jak said, disappointment in her voice, “Oh well, let’s keep walking.”

They wandered the town, and by the time they had circled back to the bar, the music was much slower and couples were leaning on each other, swaying. Jak watched much more intently now and Loki pulled her toward the door.

“Perhaps it is more your speed now?” He asked as they stepped in.

“Not exactly, but it’s better,” she nodded.

On the dance floor, he took one of her hands in his and placed his other hand at a respectable position on her back. She jumped slightly, but relaxed after a moment and began swaying in time to the music.

“Doesn’t really take much skill, does it?” She chuckled.

“Well, the venue isn’t exactly Versaille,” Loki teased.

“And the music is… well, Ed Sheeran is no Frank Sinatra, but I suppose he has a nice voice.”

“Do you dance to Sinatra?” Loki asked.

“Sometimes, but my favorite to waltz to is Shostakovich. Or Tchaikovsky. Or Schubert.”

“What other dances do you know?”

“Foxtrot, a few reels, quickstep, some square dancing, the quadrille, a bit of ballet… oh! And a friend of mine once taught me the Charleston,” she thought for a moment, “I’m sure there are more, but I can’t think of them at the moment.”

“What is the Charleston?” Loki asked, having never heard of such a dance.

“I’d show you, but the music is all wrong.”

“Allow me to have a word with the conductor.”

“The DJ,” she corrected.

“Yes, whoever is in charge of the music,” Loki bowed and ducked away to find the “DJ” and request something appropriate for the Charleston. When he found the young woman controlling the music, she had not heard of that type of dance and had no idea what sort of music to play. Loki instead requested a waltz, but she just laughed at him and played a song that soon had the crowd cheering, hooting, and bobbing up and down again. Loki rolled his eyes and went to find Jak.

Except, he couldn’t find her.

She wasn’t where he’d left her and a quick search showed that she wasn’t anywhere in the bar. A sick feeling filled his stomach as he suddenly remembered that there was an assassin after his date.

Chapter Text

Not able to find Jak anywhere inside the bar, Loki hurriedly stepped outside and frantically looked up and down the now dark street. He caught a whiff of gunpowder again, stronger this time, and knew there was about to be trouble. Conjuring a knife into his hand, he looked around more carefully, checking rooftops and behind anything on the street that might obstruct his view.

The door to the bar behind him opened and a very drunk woman stepped out, stumbling on the doorstep. Loki, having been raised as a prince, caught her before she fell and set her on her feet. Having spent the last few years as a criminal and not a prince, he didn’t bother to assist her any further. Until she grabbed his arm.

He looked at her more closely. She had blonde wavy hair, cut at chin length, bright red lipstick, a beauty mark above her lip, and thick eyelashes. She wore a white dress, in a similar A-line style that Jack had been wearing. He could have sworn he’d seen her somewhere before, but he could not put a name to the face until someone else stepped out of the bar.

“Nice Marilyn look! You’re almost spot on!”

“Thanks,” the woman replied weakly as the bar patron moved on.

Marilyn Monroe. A Midgardian actress from years gone by. Loki had heard of her before, mostly because it was rumored that she had some Asgardian blood.

The woman dressed as Marilyn Monroe clung to his arm as her legs wobbled beneath her. She glanced over her shoulder and when she looked back, Loki noticed the purple eyes.

“Jak--”

“He’s in there,” she whispered, “He got me with some sort of… tank… tranq… sleep stuff. I got away from him and changed… made myself look different. With magic.”

Her words were slurring heavily and from the way her grip on his arm suddenly loosened, Loki feared she might fall down at any moment. He wrapped his arm around her and held her up, half carrying her to a secluded spot by the bar’s dumpster before changing his own appearance. Unable to think of anyone else, he changed his face to Frank Sinatra’s. Perhaps someone would look at them and just think they were a couple of celebrity impersonators. 

“What happened?” He asked Jak, pulling her away from the dumpster before she could fall in. “Was the assassin in the bar?”

“I think it was him…” she frowned, “The waiter was with him.”

“The waiter from dinner? The one who I made violently ill?”

“Yes?” She stumbled again, “I’m gonna be violently ill if I don’t sit down.”

Rather than find a place to sit, Loki swept her up into his arms and carried her to another open shop. It was a small cafe, nearly empty. He set her in a booth as the barista watched them from behind the counter. So as not to seem suspicious, he ordered two cups of tea.

“We need to get back,” Jak mumbled, laying her head on the table and closing her eyes. If the assassin had drugged her then it was only a matter of time before she lost consciousness. Loki could protect her, but he wanted to get her back to the Compound so that he could go after the assassin instead. The fiend couldn’t have gotten far. He was probably still looking for Jak amongst the dancers at the bar.

“Give me your phone, I’ll call Stark to pick you up,” Loki instructed.

“Tea for Lucky?” The barista called. Loki rolled his eyes and went to get the tea from the counter. When he turned back to Jak, she was out cold, her cell phone dropped on the table.

“Is she alright?” the barista asked.

“Too much to drink,” Loki replied, “We were at the bar next door.”

“You need an Uber or something?”

“No thank you, I am going to call our friend to pick us up. So sorry to disturb you.”

“It’s fine,” the barista smiled slightly, “I love your costumes by the way. My mom loves old movies.”

“Yes, very nice,” Loki nodded, done with the small talk. He went back to Jak and set the tea down on the table before picking up her phone. He hated Midgardian technology, but he knew how to use it well enough to make a call. Stark answered on the first ring.

“Has he gone totally evil? Want us to come beat him up?”

“It’s me,” Loki responded dryly.

“Should we come beat you up? Did you go totally evil?”

“We need you to pick us up immediately. Bring Thor. Perhaps Rogers as well. There’s trouble,” Loki looked around, trying to figure out the name of the cafe. He couldn’t find the name anywhere and called the barista. “What is the name of this place?”

“It’s called A Trap,” the barista replied, stepping out from behind the counter.

“We’re at a coffee shop called A Trap--” Loki paused, processing the name before looking back at the barista. She held a large gun. “Shit. Now, Stark, get here now!”

“Hand over the girl and we’ll let you go,” the young woman holding the comically large weapon smiled. She pressed a finger to her ear and spoke into some sort of earpiece. “I have them over at the coffee shop. Requesting immediate back up.”

“Way ahead of you,” the door to the shop swung open and the waiter from the restaurant stepped in, carrying a smaller, but still threatening gun. “He’s on his way too.”

“Loki, we don’t want to get in a fight with you,” the barista said, “You can just leave and you don’t have to get hurt.”

“You really think you can hurt a god?” Loki laughed, dropped his Frank Sinatra disguise, “With those toys?”

“These are made with bullets designed to hurt Thor,” the waiter grinned, “Last I heard, you aren’t even as tough as him, so this should be a cinch. Give us the girl and you’ll be fine. What’s it matter to you anyway? She’s just some human, right? You’ve killed lots of humans before.”

“And we aren’t even going to kill her,” the barista added, “Just take her to someone who wants to have a chat with her. She’ll be perfectly safe.”

Loki glanced out the window and saw something small and fast shooting straight in the air from over where the Compound was. It seemed Stark had forgone the car.

“Let’s talk about this,” Loki said, putting his hands up and wondering how exactly they’d gotten ahold of bullets that might hurt him. He could tell they weren’t bluffing either. It didn’t matter if the bullets actually worked on him, these people thought that they would and if they started shooting Jak might get caught in the crossfire. 

A tall, dark figure stepped into the room. He was not wearing the leather clothes he’d been wearing when he broke into the Compound, instead wearing jeans, a black shirt, and a black jacket, but there was no mistaking the assassin. His hair was long and greasy, his eyes looked dead and glassy. He still wore a mask on the bottom half of his face, and gloves to cover his hands. And he was armed to the teeth.

“You seem to have healed remarkably well from the cut I gave you last time we met,” Loki remarked, standing so he could put himself between the assassin and Jak.

“Hand over the girl,” the assassin said in a robotic tone.

“I probably should,” Loki agreed, “But this is our first date, you see, and I’d hate to ruin it. Letting her get kidnapped by dubious individuals would definitely spoil the mood, don’t you think?”

“Shoot him,” the assassin replied, “Don’t hit her.”

It was a bit of a blur after that. Loki lunged at the assassin, the waiter shot at him, the barista dashed forward to get Jak, and suddenly Iron Man was in the coffee shop, knocking everyone down with a sonic blast of some sort. Everyone, that is, except the assassin, who had covered his ears.

“Stark!” Loki shouted, unable to hear even his own voice over the ringing in his ears, “You idiot!”

He had no idea if Iron Man responded because he couldn’t hear and the billionaire’s face was covered by his helmet. A moment later, Thor crashed through the window, carrying Steve Rogers.

The assassin immediately shot at both of them, but Rogers had brought his shield. The assassin aimed for Loki instead, and may have said something threatening. Loki had no idea what, but he supposed the gun pointing at his head was a fair indicator. Rather than wait to be rescued by the Avengers, he used a bit of magic and trickery to make a double that tapped the assassin on the shoulder. When the villain turned to look, Loki hopped to his feet and stabbed the man in the gut.

Rogers said something and angrily pulled Loki away from the assassin, seeming almost concerned about the man who’d come to kidnap Jak. Loki hoped that whatever the Captain was saying contradicted his concerned expression because he would not tolerate sympathy for the man who had just been threatening them all.

Apparently, being stabbed hardly phased the assassin, however, and he kicked Rogers away before sprinting out the door. Thor and Rogers immediately gave chase, but came back moments later, having lost the assassin.

Stark approached Loki and lifted his helmet. His mouth moved and his expression looked questioning.

“You blasted my eardrums,” Loki replied with a scowl, “I can’t hear a damn thing!”

Stark’s mouth clearly said “whoops” and he smiled nervously.

“Jak has been given a tranquilizer of some sort,” Loki continued, hoping he was speaking clearly, despite not having the use of his ears. “Get her back to the Compound.”

Iron Man gave him the thumbs up and went to pick up Jak. He flew off with her and then Rogers turned to Loki with an angry expression. He said something to Thor and Thor nodded, grabbing Loki’s arm and flying off with him. Loki didn’t even have a chance to protest as he was launched into the air with his brother.

Chapter Text

Her head felt as if someone had covered a bunch of scratchy wool in chili pepper and shoved it into her sinuses and ears, but apart from that, Jak felt remarkably comfortable. She was half laying down, propped up on something firm, but soft. Too tired to do much else, and not really sure where she was or what was happening, she snuggled closer to whatever she was propped up on and sighed contentedly.

There were voices… well, she was fairly certain they were voices, but it sounded like they were underwater. She knew that if she opened her eyes, she would have a better idea of what was going on, but she didn’t feel like she was in danger and she didn’t want the lovely dream she’d just been having to end. She wanted to go back to the ballroom in the clouds that she’d just been spinning through, and enjoy the lavish feast she’d been about to sample.

Alas, the stinging in her head only grew more powerful the harder she tried to go back to her dream and eventually she became aware that she needed to use the bathroom. So, slowly, she opened her eyes and saw a shirt.

A man’s shirt.

With a man’s torso inside of it.

And what she’d thought was another firm pillow, was actually a muscular arm wrapped around her middle, holding her close to the man. When she looked up, she saw a familiar face connected to the torso and arm, looking away from her for the moment.

It was then that she realized she’d been sleeping snuggled up next to Loki. And suddenly her memories of their date and the kidnapping attempt came zooming back to her.

She sat up straight, frantically looking around to see where they were. Loki’s arm tightened around her, keeping her from falling off of the couch they were on. The rumbling of his chest told her he was saying something, but she couldn’t hear what, which only served to make her panic more when she realized she couldn’t hear anything but muted voices.

“What’s going on?” She yelled, squirming against Loki’s hold and spotting Tony, Rhodey, Steve, and Sam in the room. They were in a lounge not far from the kitchen. She’d cleaned it enough times to recognize it, but she wasn’t sure why they were there. Why wasn’t she in her own bed? Or in the infirmary? Why had she been on top of Loki? Why was he still holding onto her? And damn it all, why couldn’t she hear anything?

She caught a glimpse of her reflection in a dark window and realized that she still looked like Marilyn Monroe. With a wave of her hand, she changed back, but using her magic may not have been the best idea because suddenly her skin was glowing pink and her hair was floating again. Loki let go of her and she jumped to her feet. Of course, since her head felt like a bowling ball, she immediately regretted the decision and nearly blacked out before Steve caught her.

His mouth moved, but she couldn’t hear him.

“What?” She asked breathlessly.

Tony offered her a piece of gum, which confused her more. When he insisted, going so far as to unwrap the gum and press it into her hand, she finally put it in her mouth and started chewing.

Her ears popped, as if she was suddenly at a different altitude and then she could hear again. Tony grinned.

“I created that gum myself. It undoes the effects of the Mark 46’s sonic blast.”

“Did you sonic blast me?” She asked incredulously, patting Steve’s hand so that he would let her stand on her own. She took a deep breath and the magic glowing in her skin dissipated.

“For a man who makes his living on being a so-called genius, sometimes he’s really not that smart,” Loki sneered, still sitting on the couch.

“It worked on the bad guys, didn’t it?”

“Not the bad guy we actually wanted it to work on,” Loki countered.

“At least now we know for sure who it is trying to get Jaklyn,” Steve said, looking more downtrodden than she’d ever seen him. “Hydra must still have working operatives somewhere.”

“I thought Barnes stopped working with them after your little reunion,” Tony crossed his arms and tilted his head, “Are we sure Hydra has anything to do with this? Ultron seemed pretty certain he’d taken care of the last of them.”

“Hydra is like a disease. You can reduce the number of people affected, but you can never stop it for good,” Steve argued. “Somehow they must have gotten ahold of him again.”

“Are we sure we should rule out the idea that Sergeant Barnes hasn’t just gone coo-coo for Cocoa Puffs?”

“Sergeant Barnes?” Jak asked, her tired, foggy brain finally catching up with the back and forth. Now it felt like her lungs were deprived of air. “As in Sergeant James Barnes?”

“Do you know him?” Steve asked, spinning to look at her.

“He was your friend, wasn’t he?” She swallowed nervously, knowing a bit more than that, but not sure exactly how to break the news to Steve. And she didn’t particularly want to get into the details with any of them. What did Barnes have to do with this conversation anyway? Her brain hurt too much to make connections.

“I hope he still is,” the soldier said, “He’s alive. Hydra had him. Made him into a brainwashed weapon.”

“Why is there always brainwashing involved?” Loki groaned.

“Weren’t you the one who used a magic stick to mind control Barton?” Sam asked with a raised brow.

“Yes, exactly. And Ultron used Wanda to mess with your heads and Jaklyn’s mother messed with hers. The Mad Titan did a number on my own mind, though I’d rather not delve into that right now. What is it with all of this brainwashing?”

“Well, Bucky - that is, Sergeant Barnes - broke out of his. Or it seemed like he had when I last saw him. But the way he was acting tonight, I’m not sure.”

“Wait, wait,” Jak shook her head, finally connecting dots, “The assassin trying to kidnap me is Bucky Barnes?!”

“We weren’t sure at first, but after seeing him in the coffee shop… yes. It’s him,” Steve nodded.

She knew then that she was going to have to give a bit more explanation to what exactly she knew about James Buchanan Barnes. With a glance at Loki, she decided that she wouldn’t tell all of it. Only the necessary parts. 

She had hoped to keep her own involvement with Hydra as quiet as possible. Logically, she knew that it wasn’t really her involvement. Her parents had thrown their lot in with Nazis and made Jak join them. As Loki had just said, her mother had brainwashed her.

But knowing these things did not ease her guilt. After all, she hadn’t done anything to fight off her mother’s manipulations. She went along with everything willingly because she thought her parents had her best interests at heart. She thought they were the good guys. She had idolized her father and it still stung to know that he was a vile, greedy warmonger with nothing but evil intentions.

“Jak?” Loki interrupted her spiraling thoughts with a gentle tap on her shoulder.

“Sorry,” she muttered and tried to focus on the problem at hand. “I suppose I should have known it was him. Something about him seemed familiar.”

“You knew this Barnes?” Loki asked. “You’ve met him before?”

“Sort of,” she turned to Steve, “He fell from a train, didn’t he? Everyone thought he was dead? Lost to the mountains.”

“Yes,” Steve’s voice cracked slightly. The grief was still fairly fresh for him, Jak remembered. Though it had been about eighty years since Bucky Barnes fell from that train, Steve had only been out of the ice for about five years and it had not been long before he’d gone in the ice that he’d lost Bucky.

“And now you know what Hydra did to him,” she sighed, “I need to sit down.”

She took a seat on the couch and Steve pulled a chair over so he could sit and face her. Loki’s face flashed with annoyance and he sat down next to Jak on the couch, closer than was necessarily proper. Sam, Rhodey, and Tony didn’t say anything, but all eyes watched the woman intently.

“My father was not technically a member of Hydra,” she explained, “I don’t say that to defend him, just so that you know he was not in on all of their secrets.”

“He knew enough though,” Steve argued, “Just because he didn’t have a membership card doesn’t make him any less Hydra in my opinion.”

“A fair point,” she nodded, “However, Johann Schmidt did not trust Father and would not have allowed him to be a true member even if Father had wanted to be.”

“What does this have to do with Barnes?” Rhodey asked.

“She’s getting to that,” Loki snapped, “Let her speak.”

Jak briefly wondered if he was only listening so he could learn more of her secrets, but she pushed that thought away. It was not relevant at that moment. And if she started thinking about irrelevant things they would be here all night.

“Schmidt didn’t trust my father, but he was fascinated by him. He was obsessed with magic. And the occult. With dark forces,” she closed her eyes and remembered her father, oozing dark magic, “Father was certainly a dark force.”

“I remember,” Steve nodded.

“You killed Father before Sergeant Barnes fell, but my mother still had ties in Hydra. Like my father, she was not truly a member, nor was she trusted, but Schmidt had uses for her. He had her working with his scientists in a small capacity. After the war… everything was a bit of a mess. But my mother wound up working with the Winter Soldier program for a short time.”

“You did know him,” Steve leaned closer, his eyes alight.

“Y-yes,” she replied hesitantly, trying to stay on track with only the pertinent details. It was difficult when there were so many details racing to her mind that were not relevant. “A little. I was at the base where they, err, made him into the Winter Soldier. I should have recognized him sooner. That metal arm is hard to forget.”

“Would he remember you?” Loki asked, dangerous calculations in his tone, “Why would he have cause to come after you?”

“He wouldn’t,” she shook her head vigorously, hoping that was true, “Unless he’s out for revenge because of what my mother helped Hydra do to him. But from the way he speaks… Steve, I don’t think he’s broken free of the brainwashing.”

“He saved me back in DC -”

“Maybe a momentary break, but it sounds like he’s working for someone. Bucky Barnes wouldn’t work for whoever is trying to get me, but the Winter Soldier would.”

“We need to find him. Find out what’s going on in his head. Find out who is trying to kidnap you,” Steve stood up, “I’m going to find him.”

“Yes, please do,” Loki stretched his arms over the back of the couch and crossed one leg over the other, “And bring him back here so I can split his skull.”

“Hey, hey,” Sam stepped closer, “Let’s not jump to that just yet. We’ll find him. Contain him. And we’ll see if we can help him first.”

“I’d rather just kill him,” Loki seethed.

“I’m sure a lot of people feel the same way about you,” Sam pointed out, “This guy is Steve’s oldest friend. Basically family. How would you feel if it were Thor we were tracking down instead? Wouldn’t you want us to try and help him?”

“Poor example,” Loki scoffed, though Jak saw his jaw tense, “I’ve tried to kill my brother many times.”

“How do you think Thor would feel if it were you we were tracking down?” Sam crossed his arms. 

Jak watched Loki’s expression carefully, but he was hiding his feelings well behind a sarcastic smile.

“You will not change my mind, Sam Wilson. I would prefer Barnes in a coffin rather than a cell. For the sake of finding answers and maintaining my rehabilitated status, I will let him live.”

“You won’t get a chance to touch him,” Steve snapped. Sam moved between the two and nodded.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, if he actually succeeds in his mission to take away Jaklyn,” Loki’s arm slithered around her shoulders and she felt a spark race through her core, “All bets are off.”

Jak inwardly scolded herself for finding those words immensely attractive. Now was not the time to be thinking about the butterflies of romance fluttering in her stomach. Or how nice it felt to be tucked into Loki’s side again. Not when she was thinking of Bucky Barnes trying to kidnap her.

“Well that was all very exciting, but I don’t think we’re going to be catching any assassins if we don’t catch some Zs first,” Tony clapped his hands, “Let’s go to bed everyone. Jaklyn, you want the safe room?”

“Yes,” Loki answered for her, though her answer would have been the same, “And I will take the first shift as guard.”

“You don’t need to,” she protested, “The safe room will be enough.”

“No offense to Stark, but I do not trust the mechanical contraptions to keep you safe.”

“Alright, Loki’s going to play bodyguard,” Tony nodded, “But no canoodling, you two. I’ve got the cameras on and no one wants to see that.”

“Noted,” Jak blushed.

They began to go their separate ways, everyone needed to get some sleep before the hunt for Bucky truly began, but Rhodey stopped Jak and Loki as they headed in the direction of the safe room.

“Hey, how’s it going with the magic? You good?”

“I don’t know, honestly,” she sighed, hand going to the dampening cuff.

“It almost looked like you lost control for a minute back there.”

“Do not even consider taking her magic away,” Loki hissed, putting a protective hand on Jak’s shoulder, “She’ll need it to defend herself.”

“I know,” Rhodey said, “I’m just doing my job and checking in. She’s under a lot of stress and I want to make sure no one is in danger because of that.”

“Be careful, Colonel, or someone will be getting hurt.”

“I’ll be fine,” Jak assured, cutting Loki off,  “I’m just getting used to having it back.”

Rhodey nodded and let them go.

Chapter Text

Alone with Loki in the safe room, Jak was suddenly confronted with the fact that they’d just been on a date. Sure, an assassin had ruined that date, but still. It had been a romantic outing. They’d held hands. They’d eaten dinner together. She’d worn a dress for the first time in years.

“Next time, maybe we should have a picnic on the grounds like you suggested,” she laughed softly as she sat on the bed of the safe room, doing her best not to think about Bucky Barnes.

Loki, who was standing on a chair, inspecting the camera in the room, turned to look at her. The most sincere smile she’d ever seen from him lit up his face.

“Next time?”

“Well, considering the assassin and everything, I’m not sure tonight actually counted as a date,” she told him with a shrug, “We’d better have a do-over.”

“An excellent point!” He nodded, stepping down from the chair and sitting on the bed next to her. He took her hands in his and grinned at her. “When might I have the pleasure of taking you out again?”

“What about a casual lunch tomorrow?” She suggested, “We’ll keep it simple. Sandwiches, crisps, maybe we can convince Vision to make us some cookies.”

“An excellent plan,” he nodded, “And perhaps we can have your first real magic lesson after? I want to show you how to completely destroy Sergeant Barnes the next time you see him.”

She winced. “I don’t want to hurt him… I mean, not permanently. He’s probably not in control of what he’s doing.”

“And while we can both empathize with that unfortunate situation,” Loki’s hand left hers and he gently took her chin in his fingers, tilting her head to look at him, “He will take you away if we don’t stop him. So, I will teach you to stop him by any means necessary and you will listen because I am such a marvelous instructor.”

“You know, Wanda and I did some magical sparring while I was avoiding you. She thinks I’ve gotten pretty good all on my own,” Jak taunted, pulling her face backward and feeling more aware than ever of the camera on the wall, “Maybe I don’t need your lessons after all.”

“Oh? Then why didn’t you blast the Winter Soldier into oblivion at the bar tonight?”

“Too many witnesses,” she shrugged, though in reality the tranquilizer the Winter Soldier had shot her with had made her mind so blurry that she’d barely been able to register what was going on, let alone think of using defensive magic.

“Then we will also work on discrete magic,” Loki smirked and then suddenly he was on her other side and whispering in her ear, “Which is something of a specialty of mine.”

“How did you…?” Jak looked back to the place where he had just been then to where he was now. “Can you teleport?”

“No.”

“But I had my eyes on you the whole time!”

“Did you? Or did you look upward a moment ago, glancing at the camera?”

“I would have felt you stand up and switch spots!”

“Obviously not,” he chuckled and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

She pointed at him and wagged her finger. “You’re going to show me how to do that.”

“Of course,” his fingers trailed back along her hair, slowly weaving into her ponytail, “But first, do me a favor and use a bit of magic you already know, will you?”

“What’s that?” She asked, closing her eyes and savoring the feeling of him playing with hair. She realized after a moment that she hadn’t had a haircut since before she’d been put on probation. There were probably a million split ends, doing their best to embarrass her.

“You look lovely this evening, but the color of that dress does not suit you. Perhaps a shade of green would be better?” He chuckled, still fiddling with her ponytail.

She opened her eyes and looked down. Passing her hand over the fabric, she made it a rich teal color. Then she sighed and turned it back to red.

“It’s Wanda’s, I don’t think she’d appreciate it if I changed it.”

“Too bad,” Loki’s mouth was by her ear again and she could practically feel the smile against her skin as he said, “I suppose that only leaves the option of taking it off.”

Jak felt a jolt of warmth rush down her spine followed by a chill as goosebumps sprung up on her arms. She swallowed nervously and did her best to seem nonchalant.

“Mr. Stark said no ‘canoodling’, remember?”

“Cameras are easily disabled.”

“Loki,” she laughed, “We’ve only just had our first date. You’re being rather forward, aren’t you?”

“I suppose you’re right,” he sighed, backing up a bit and nudging her lightly with his elbow, “I shall endeavor to remember my princely upbringing and find some manners.”

“Thank you,” she elbowed him back, “Otherwise I might spread rumors.”

“Oh dear,” he rolled his eyes, “How shall I ever handle people thinking I am a philanderer as well as a mass murderer?”

Jak laughed outright at this and then pressed her hand over her mouth to hide her grin.

“Sorry. That’s not funny. I shouldn’t laugh at that,” she snorted, “You’ve killed people.”

“Many, many people. The list looks more like a census record,” he agreed, “And I’ll add Sergeant Barnes to that record the moment Captain Rogers looks away.”

Jak felt her smile fall away. “You already told Sam that you’d let him live.”

“A murderer, a philanderer, and a liar as well? What shall people think of me?” 

“Loki,” Jak made herself scowl at him, though her nerves still made her want to laugh.

“Jaklyn,” he countered.

“Remember, you are rehabilitated,” she crossed her arms, “You don’t want to go back to Asgardian prison, do you?”

“No, I do not,” he drew a sharp breath and all mirth vanished from his face. Jak cringed, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut. She had no idea what Asgardian prison was like or what he might have experienced there. “Though, if I were to start another inter-realm incident, it would be more likely that I went to the chopping block.”

Jak turned and stared wide eyed at him. “Thor wouldn’t let that happen.”

“There is only so much my brother can save me from, and the wrath of our father does not fall under that,” Loki replied bitterly.

“Your father would kill you?” She asked in a whisper.

“My mother stayed his hand last time, but she is… no longer able to speak on my behalf.”

Jak had heard that the Queen of Asgard had been killed not long ago. Thor had mentioned it and she hadn’t paid much attention because she hadn’t known him well then. Now she wished she at least knew Loki’s mother’s name.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” she said, racking her brain for anything she might have learned about Norse mythology in her many years. It finally came to her that Odin’s wife was named Frigg, but she wasn’t sure if that was accurate. After all, Loki of mythology was not Thor’s brother. Who could say what the relationships of the real Asgardians were? She silently vowed to ask Thor the next time she saw him.

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for,” Loki shook his head and stood up, “It was my own fault, no one else's. Now. I am going to leave the room so that you might get some sleep. I’m sure you have much to do tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow is Sunday,” she said, “I have the day off.”

“Well,” his smile returned, but it was several shades dimmer than it usually was, “In that case, we shall train in the mystic arts all day and break only for our lunch date. How does that sound?”

“If you are ready to teach me, then I’m ready to learn,” she replied. “You still owe me a lesson after all the questions I’ve answered lately.”

“I’d never leave a debt unpaid. Now go to sleep. I shall be just outside if you need me,” he bowed, but before he left, she stopped him.

“You don’t need to stay up all night guarding me, really,” she told him, “It’s called a safe room for a reason. I’ll be perfectly fine in here and you need sleep too.”

He smiled softly at her then as he backed out of the room. “Thank you, but I will stay.”

“Loki -”

“The list of people I’ve killed may stretch for miles, but I’ll be damned if I’m responsible for the death of another person I care about,” his smile slipped and the look in his eyes was frighteningly serious as he closed the door, “Sleep well.”

Chapter Text

“Winter Soldier, you have failed me a third time,” the deep, accented voice intoned, “How many chances do you suppose I should give you?”

Bucky wasn’t really paying attention to how many times he’d failed his mission. He was more focused on slamming his whole weight into the bars separating him from his captor. Whatever his prison cell was made of was stronger than the super soldier serum in his veins because he wasn’t even making a dent. He might have been able to do some damage with the metal arm, but his captor had taken that from him as soon as he returned.

“They promised me that the activation words would ensure your compliance,” the deep voice continued as the tall, angular man paced in front of the cell, “I bribed, blackmailed, and butchered to acquire those words and yet it seems they are not completely effective.”

Bucky could argue the opposite. As soon as those words, those damn trigger words, were spoken, his mind went completely blank except the thought of following orders. He could plot out complicated schemes for doing what he was told, he could remember all of his combat training, he knew exactly how to do what he was told, but he couldn’t remember who he was or anyone he’d known before.

Most days his memory was terrible anyway. Though he’d read that he was supposedly the childhood best friend of a super soldier from decades ago, his own memories of anything before the helicarrier in DC were not intact. Now and then he’d get flashes of a life before. Of home cooked meals, of newspapers in shoes, of a uniform, or a sickly man he cared about. Every now and then he thought he remembered the girl with pink hair even. But none of it connected and his captor’s repeated use of the trigger words wasn’t helping anything.

“If the words were as effective as they promised, then perhaps you would have completed your task by now.”

Bucky took a break from body slamming the bars to cuss the other man out.

“Yes, I know you are very upset,” the man sighed and rolled his eyes, “I am upset as well, Winter Soldier. You are not nearly as infallible as the reports say. It is a wonder Pierce was ever able to get you to behave.”

“He had more scientists than you,” Bucky scoffed, breathing heavily. “Maybe those words won’t work forever. Maybe you need the mad scientists in order to keep messing with my head.”

“You had best hope that is not the case,” the man sighed, “Because that would mean you are more trouble than you are worth. As pretty as you are, I am not interested in keeping you as a pet. If you do not have success soon, I’m afraid I’ll have to put you down like the old dog that you are.”

“Good,” Bucky growled and returned to trying to break the bars.

“Tsk, so depressing,” the man shook his head, “I will be leaving you for a while. I won’t send you after her until the Avengers let down their guard. Don’t worry, in the meantime, you won’t have to stew in your failures. I may not have the scientists, but I was able to get my hands on some of their machinery.”

Bucky’s breath caught in his throat. “No…”

“Oh yes,” the man disappeared into the shadows and came back, wheeling a device the size of a coffin. Cold fog rolled off of it as fear clutched at Bucky’s gut.

“No!”

“Afraid so,” the man took the key to the cell out of his breast pocket. The little skeleton key glowed brightly, matching the eerie blue glow on the lock. “Now, since I can’t trust you to get into the cryo chamber yourself…” the man’s word’s switched from English to Russian: “ longing, rusted, seventeen… ”

“No! Shut up!”

“. ..daybreak, furnace, nine… ”

“Stop!” Bucky cried not recognizing his own strangled voice as the words began to echo through his head.

“ ...benign, homecoming, one… ”

“Please.”

“ Freight car ,” the man finished and Bucky felt his brain go blank like a chalkboard in the rain. “ Soldier? ”

“ Ready to comply. ”

“Excellent, get in the cryo chamber.”

Bucky did as he was ordered and heard one more thing as the door closed and the cold started.

“I will have her back, Winter Soldier, and if you can’t do it, I’ll find someone else.”

Then the ice set in and Bucky could think no more.

Chapter Text

A week went by and Loki spent nearly every day teaching Jak how to use her magic. Wanda often joined them, but with her powers, she knew exactly when the two of them preferred to train alone and never got in the way. It wasn’t like that witch needed much instruction in any case. She used magic like she’d been born to do so, like it was as easy to her as breathing and she could just as soon rewrite the universe as she could make a cup of coffee.

Jak, on the other hand, acted as if she were afraid of her own abilities. A great deal of their time together consisted of Loki convincing her that she had the ability to do a thing before she tried it, failed a few times, and then got the hang of it. He began to wonder if she was failing on purpose just so he would correct her form.

In that week, they went on two more dates, neither of which was interrupted by an assassin. As Jak shared bits and pieces of her history with him, and as he got to know her better, he felt increasingly glad that Thor had dragged him to work at the Compound. Though he supposed it was technically part of his rehabilitation to aid the Avengers, he couldn’t help but begin to enjoy his time on Midgard.

Exactly one week after his first date with Jak, he woke to see a note slipped under his bedroom door. He groggily swiped at his eyes, picked up the note, and then fell asleep again before he could read it. Though others were taking turns guarding Jak, he volunteered to do so most often and his lack of sleep schedule was starting to take a toll. When he did sleep, mostly at odd times in the afternoon, he slept hard.

Thor was starting to get worried about him, claiming he’d be no good against the assassin if he was falling asleep. 

When Loki woke up an hour later, he was still clutching the paper in his hand, though it had gotten quite crumpled as he slept. He massaged his face and took a long drink of water to wake up before fully examining the paper.

It had his name written in neat handwriting on the front and when he opened it, he found a poem followed by a note:

Sunday is called such for our bright star,

Monday named after her sister the moon.

Tuesday is a god of war,

Wednesday for he whose praises many croon. 

Thursday after my friend, your brother,

Friday after the Queen, your mother.

Saturday for the god of the seed,

But I must admit, in my personal greed,

I’d name every hour Lokisday, 

If I were to have my way.

Thank you for making every day of this week a delight. Meet me by the riverbank for dinner at 6pm.

There was no signature, but it was not hard to deduce who might have slipped it under his door. He looked at the clock and was alarmed to find that it was already five in the evening. Seeing the time woke him up well and truly and he hurried to get ready. Once he was up with clothes on and teeth brushed, he stepped into the hall and hurried along toward the door closest to the river. Before he got there, he had the displeasure of making eye contact with Steve Rogers in the corridor. He tried to nod politely and keep moving, but the super soldier stepped in his path.

“Listen, Loki, you and I need to talk.”

“I disagree, but with that response, technically we have talked to one another,” Loki patted him on the shoulder and stepped around, “Good talk.”

“Hold on,” Captain Rogers fell into step with him. Not good. He would surely create problems if he saw that Loki was headed for a date with Jak.

“Now, I know customs vary between the realms, but I thought it was fairly universal that the act of walking away conveys that someone does not wish to interact. Am I wrong?”

“You have to stop dating Jaklyn,” Steve said, stopping in the middle of the hall and crossing his arms. Loki slowed his step and turned back with a condescending smile.

“It would seem you are right. We do need to have a discussion,” he stepped closer, hands clasped behind his back. “But I advise you to select your words carefully.”

“Break off things with Jaklyn,” Steve said, eyes cold steel.

“Why? So you can swoop in and put together the broken pieces of her heart?” Loki sneered, “I think not. Green is my favorite color, but envy doesn’t look good on you, Captain.”

“Do you really think I’m that petty?” Steve shook his head, “I just think she’s had enough of people messing with her head. For two hundred years she’s been under the control of her parents. Let her live in peace.”

“And what makes you think I am ‘messing with her head’? What have I done to her?” Loki stepped close enough that he could look down his nose at the other man.

“Your track record isn’t exactly in your favor.”

“Nor is Wanda’s,” Loki countered, “And it would be much easier for her to manipulate Jak, than it would be for me to do so.”

“Wanda is an Avenger,” Steve didn’t blink, didn’t flinch. “I trust her.”

“And Jak is an adult. She’s older than you are. She can make her own decisions. I have done nothing magical to sway her mind. I have only been charming. You might try it sometime.”

Loki rolled his eyes and stepped away, heading for the door once more.

“If you hurt her, you’ll answer to me,” the Captain called.

“And if you hurt her, or your assassin friend does, you’ll answer to my knives.”

Loki kept walking until he was at the short dock that sat on the bank of the river. At the end of this dock, Jak perched on the bench, watching the sunset, light streaking through her hair. Conjuring a rose the color of her eyes, Loki sat down next to her and offered the bloom.

“Oh!” She took the flower with a smile and sniffed it, “It smells like magic.”

“Probably because it’s made of magic,” Loki chuckled and looked around, “Do you not have an escort?”

There was not an Avenger in sight, which meant she was completely vulnerable to possible attacks from the Winter Soldier. He should not have slept as long as he did and he wouldn’t have if he’d known no one else would guard her while he snoozed.

“I told Sam to stop following me,” she said, twirling the rose stem and watching the water with a small smile, “It took some convincing, but I finally got him to leave about five minutes ago. So I haven’t been alone for long.”

“Still, you ought to be more careful--”

“I’m getting stronger with my magic,” she countered, flicking her wrist and turning the rose into a purple fireball, “Next time someone attacks me, I’ll be ready..”

Loki wanted to remind her that the Winter Soldier was one of the most highly skilled assassins on the planet and that she was still reluctant about hurting anyone with her abilities. But, he didn’t want to argue after she’d written him a poem and asked to meet up in a romantic location. So, he let the matter drop for the time being.

“Was there a particular reason you summoned me to this dock with your poem?” He asked, twiddling his thumbs and tapping his feet as if he were an easily excited child.

“Sorry about the poem,” she snorted, “I never had much skill for verse to my mother’s annoyance.”

“It was ridiculous and lovely,” Loki assured, “I think I shall have it framed.”

“Shut up,” she elbowed him with a laugh.

“You still haven’t answered my question. Or are we just here to enjoy the sunset?” He took in the brightly colored sky. He wouldn’t mind if she’d just called him there for the sunset and some company.

“Dinner,” she said, gesturing to a basket at her feet, “And… well, I wanted to thank you in person as well.”

“For what?”

“For this whole week. I know we had a rough start, you and I--”

“A bit of an understatement, but go on.”

“Well, I just wanted to say that I’m glad you convinced me not to take the factory job,” she turned and looked him in the eye, “I like you.”

Loki beamed at her as fireworks went off in his head. Such small words, but he felt them sink into his heart immediately. That constant, bitter, nagging voice in his mind scolded him for the sentiment, but he pushed it away and instead took her hand in his and squeezed.

“I find that I’m quite fond of you as well,” he replied, inching closer on the bench, “And I am also glad you didn’t take the factory job. It would have been such a chore to go out and find you and try to speak to you over the loud sounds of machinery.”

“Would you really have come to find me if I left?” She asked, skeptical.

“I do not easily let go of that which I take an interest in,” he told her with a wicked smile, “And you are of great interest to me.”

“What about… well, what if you learn all my secrets and then there is nothing interesting about me anymore?” She clasped her hands together and lifted her chin, looking out over the water and keeping her face turned away. He still saw the worry in her eyes.

“While your many secrets are what drew me to you in the first place,” he leaned closer and wrapped his arm around her waist, lowering his mouth to her ear, “There are many, many other parts of you that capture my attention as well.”

“You’ll forgive me if I have a difficult time believing that someone literally regarded as a god finds one simple woman appealing in the least,” she raised a brow.

“Hmm, there’s nothing simple about you, my dear little janitor,” he chuckled, “And despite spending an idyllic week together, we still barely know each other. If I were you, I would not twist my mind with possibilities of what may be when we hardly know what is .”

She smiled then and shook her head with a laugh, finally looking back at him.

“You must think I’m completely crazy,” she said, “You’re right. It’s only been a week.”

“Not crazy,” he smiled back, “Cautious. And who can blame you? I do have a bit of a reputation. But if it puts your mind at ease, I think the past week has gone incredibly well, don’t you?”

“It’s been fantastic,” she inched closer to him, “And I think this week will be better still.”

He lowered his face a fraction of an inch, giving her plenty of time to back away if she wanted. When she stayed put, excitement in her eyes, he moved closer again, until their lips were nearly touching.

“Let’s start this week off strong, shall we?” He whispered, shutting his eyes as he closed the space between them.

“Brother! Have you seen your lady janitor? Oh! A thousand pardons, I did not realize I was… err… sorry about the interruption!” Thor bellowed.

Loki would have been content to ignore his big brother, but Jaklyn pulled away so quickly that she nearly fell in the river and probably would have if he hadn’t been holding her hand to steady her.

“H-hi Thor,” she smiled at him, her cheeks nearly the same brilliant shade of pink as her hair.

“Hello, Ms. Baker! I am so, so sorry, I will find you later. Eh, please continue,” Thor’s face was also quite pink as he backed away slowly.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Jak squeezed Loki’s hand and then stood up, tucking her hands into her pants pockets and attempted to look nonchalant. Loki scowled and turned to face his brother fully. He crossed his arms.

“Yes, you’ve already made yourself quite a nuisance, might as well say what you came to say!”

He was going to murder the Crown Prince of Asgard.

“Well, um, again, I apologize for intruding, but there is a large package in the lobby with Ms. Baker’s name on it and Tony sent me to fetch you to open it,” Thor attempted a laugh but it came out as an embarrassed squeak.

“Hmm, I didn’t order anything,” Jak frowned, “And I don’t know enough people for someone to send me something.”

“Tony and Vision scanned it to ensure there are no explosives or poisonous gas inside,” Thor said, “He is already attempting to find out who sent it.”

“Well, I’d better go see what that’s about,” Jak looked forlornly at the picnic basket.

“Once we open the package we’ll come back for our dinner,” Loki assured her, “You go on, I have a question I want to ask Thor.”

She nodded and left the two of them. Once she was out of sight, Loki beckoned Thor closer.

“I am truly sorry, brother, I did not mean to intrude on your romantic moment!”

“I know you’re sorry,” Loki patted him on the shoulder.

“Congratulations all the same! It seems you have thoroughly wooed her!”

“Hmm, yes, and I could do a much better job of it without you around,” Loki smiled and then shoved Thor into the river. As the big blond came up sputtering, Loki made a rude gesture in his direction and then hurried after Jak.

Chapter Text

As the only packages Jak usually got were replacement parts, tools, or cleaning equipment, she was rather excited to have a mystery package addressed to her. Of course, as there was currently an assassin after her and she had no friends outside of the Compound, it was also deeply concerning to have a mystery package addressed to her. But, Mr. Stark assured her that scans had not picked up on anything dangerous inside the large cardboard box so she hoped that meant it was something nice. Maybe she’d won a prize or the government was returning some of her belongings.

“I hate to say it, but it’s about the length of a person,” Natasha mused, walking around the box, which had been taken from the lobby to the conference room and placed on the table. “Are we sure Bucky Barnes isn’t inside waiting to pop out?”

“Scans did not pick up on any signs of life,” Vision said, putting Jak more at ease.

“I cannot detect any thoughts inside it either,” Wanda waved her hand over the box.

“Any idea where it came from?” Jak asked the room.

“No. The cameras show a currier dropping it off, but the uniform isn’t USPS, UPS, FedEx, Amazon, or any other recognizable shipping service,” Tony said.

Loki came into the room, followed by Thor, who was dripping wet. Jak hid a smile when she realized that Thor had just paid the price for interrupting her romantic moment. She was glad he knew how to swim at least.

“Care to borrow a knife to open it?” Loki offered her a dagger, but she declined.

“What kind of janitor would I be if I didn’t carry a utility knife at all times?” She joked, taking a box cutter out of her pocket. Taking a deep breath, she put the blade to the edge of the box. “Well, here we go.”

She cut into the tape holding the box closed and then carefully lifted the lid. Inside was a wooden crate the same length as the cardboard box. It was stamped with big black numbers on the top as well as the words “PROPERTY OF THE FBI”.

“What is the FBI sending me?” She wondered aloud.

“Weapons?” Natasha mused, “A box like this could hold a lot of guns.”

“I’m not allowed to have guns,” Jak replied, “I’m on probation, remember?”

“This is taking forever,” Tony groaned, “Just open it!”

“It’s nailed shut,” she tugged on the lid, “Hold on.”

She used her magic to transform her utility knife into a small pry bar and used that to lift the lid. Once it was off, she was met with endless straw and a piece of paper neatly folded on top. She picked up the paper and opened it.

“Oh…” she frowned when she saw the name at the top of the page, “They put my… they put one of my much, much older names.”

Loki immediately looked over her shoulder.

“Winnet,” he read to the group.

“I thought you went by Ruth before becoming Jaklyn,” Steve commented.

“I’ve gone by many names,” she replied, gripping the paper tightly, “I didn’t think anyone had a record of this one.”

She could feel Loki watching her carefully. He was definitely going to ask about the significance of this name in exchange for her next magic lesson. So far, she’d been completely honest with her answers, but she already found herself thinking of lies or half-truths in regards to this name. Her first name. The name she’d been given when she was born. No one knew that. The FBI certainly didn’t have that information. Her mother had been careful not to leave any record of it amongst their things. Perhaps not careful enough, or else why would someone be sending her a note addressed to “Winnet”?

“Read the rest of the note,” Wanda urged.

Jak did so and her frown and unease grew with every word. The tone was far too personal. Whoever this was acted as if they knew her and had known her for a long time.

“What does it say?” Tony asked.

“It’s congratulating me on getting my powers back,” she told them, “And it says that I might be able to use what’s in the box to better control my magic. I don’t think this is from the FBI.”

“We should probably call Woo,” Rhodey said.

“Let’s see what’s in the box first,” Tony gestured to the pile of straw, “It’s already open, we might as well find out what it is.”

Jak shrugged weakly, her stomach pinching with nerves as she shakily pulled away some of the straw. She immediately dropped it again and took several steps back with a shake of her head. Loki moved forward and pulled back the straw to see for himself what it hid. The Avengers all crowded closer and Jak took another two steps back, her hands pressed to her mouth.

“Is that… a skull?” Tony asked, “Shit, this is definitely not from the FBI. Rhodey, get Woo on the line. We need to figure out where the hell this came from. And whose it is.”

Jak knew exactly whose skull it was. She hadn’t looked at it long, but she recognized the gold tooth stuck in the bleached white jaw.

“Jaklyn, are you okay?” Steve asked her quietly. He was the only person not currently staring at the skull. “Do you know who might have sent this?”

“No,” she rasped, shaking so badly that she lost control of her magic and felt her skin begin to glow pink, “But I know who it is.”

“Hey, hey, it’s going to be alright,” Steve grabbed her hand and squeezed it, “Take a deep breath.”

She did as he instructed and the glow faded. He held her hand tight until her hair stopped floating as well. Jak felt sick, she wanted to throw up, wanted to run away screaming, wanted to send a magical fireball at the box to burn it. She wanted someone to hold her, but Loki was still investigating the box so she turned to the nearest person and pressed her face into Steve’s shoulder to hide the tears rolling down her face.

“It’s okay, Jaklyn,” he told her, gently placing his hand on her back, “We’re going to get ahold of Jimmy Woo and he’s going to take care of it, alright?”

“Who the hell would send you a whole skeleton?” Rhodey questioned. They’d uncovered the rest of the contents of the box and indeed found the rest of the bones. “And whose skeleton is it?”

Jak bit back a sob and slowly turned away from Steve’s chest to face them. Loki had noticed by now that she was being held by another man, but thankfully was keeping any comments to himself as his eyes glared angrily at Steve. She ignored that, only having the energy to deal with one emotional battle at a time.

“I don’t know who sent her to me, but I do know who is in the box,” she told them, feeling a bit faint, “It’s my mother.”

Chapter Text

“I want to know who the hell is threatening a member of my staff, and I want to know now ,” Tony Stark growled into the phone as he paced. No one was quite sure who he was talking to, but it was his third phone call.

Meanwhile, Romanoff was speaking on her own cell phone in rapid Russian. Loki’s Russian was a bit rusty, so he wasn’t sure what she was saying, but it was also about finding the sender of the box of bones.

Rhodey was pacing after Tony, offering tidbits of information, Sam and Vision had flown into town to see if anyone there recognized the security footage of the delivery man. Thor had volunteered to take the box away, stashing it in one of the labs for study later.

And Loki and Wanda sat on either side of Jak while the damned Captain America hovered nearby. Jak had stopped crying at least, but she was still shaking badly and Rhodey had insisted on turning the dampening cuff back on when furniture had started bursting into pieces whenever Jak touched a chair or table.

“Stark will find whoever did this,” Wanda said soothingly, “They made a big mistake sending it to the Compound. With all of the connections this team has, I am sure it won’t be more than a few hours before they are discovered.”

“And then we tear them to ribbons,” Loki added, wrapping his arm around Jak. He pulled her into his side and felt her stop shaking.

“Whoever it is might have a connection to Bucky,” the Captain said quietly, “We’ll capture them, question them, and -” 

“No, no,” Jak said, the first time she’d spoken since she revealed that the bones were her mother’s. Her voice was a snarl and when Loki saw her face he barely recognized her. He’d seen her angry with him before, and he’d seen her scared, but this was something else. “I agree with Loki. Whoever did this is going to die .”

“Jaklyn…”

She looked up sharply at Steve. “I want to help Bucky as much as you do, Steve, but even if the sender is connected to him, they crossed a line and I’m not going to let them get away with it.”

“You are on probation, Jaklyn, you’d go straight to some high security prison. No more magic. You’d be a sitting duck.”

Loki hated that Steve was making sense. Not that he would admit it.

“I will kill them and save you the trouble,” he said simply. Even if it did create a problem for Odin, he doubted that the Allfather would execute him for a small bit of revenge to protect someone.

“I’d rather do it myself. Let’s see what my magic can actually do.”

“You need to think this through,” Steve pointed at her, “I know you’re upset right now, but you need to take some time to process before you do anything stupid. Either of you.”

“You have no authority over me, Captain,” Loki scoffed.

“I am thinking this through,” Jak glared daggers at the Captain, “I want to kill whoever is responsible.”

“Wanda, help me make them see reason.”

“While I agree with both of you that whoever has done this should be punished, think of the outcome if either of you kills them,” Wanda looked each of them in the eye, “If Loki commits a crime while here on earth, Thor will have no choice but to take him back to Asgard. Or, if Jak violates her probation, she will be locked away. You won’t be able to see each other again, at least not for quite some time, if you move forward with this.”

Loki was not sure that their tentative romance was enough to keep Jak from murder. He had no idea how she wanted this to play out, he’d been shocked when she agreed that the perpetrator should die. He was so used to the Avengers finding another solution and trying to save people, he’d forgotten that Jak was not one of them and that she had violence in her past.

However, she relaxed in his hold and nodded after Wanda spoke.

“Fine. But I at least want to punch them when we figure out who it is,” she grumbled.

“First hit is all yours,” Steve reached out and patted her shoulder. Annoyed, Loki batted his hand away. He had not forgotten that the Captain had ordered him to stay away from the woman and he certainly hadn’t forgotten the way the other man held her when she’d been crying upon opening the box.

They stayed in the conference room for nearly an hour longer, but it seemed that Stark was not as good at finding people as he’d thought. No progress was made and Jak barely spoke. Her stomach growled loudly and Loki remembered their abandoned picnic on the dock.

“Let’s get you something to eat,” he said quietly.

“I don’t want to.”

“You need dinner,” he carefully pulled her to her feet.

“Loki, I’m fine,” she protested, but did not resist when he led her toward the door.

“Come along, the robot made a fresh loaf of bread. You don’t need to eat a whole meal, but a thick slice of bread with some butter sounds nice, don’t you think?”

Her stomach growled again and she sighed. “Alright. Let’s get some bread.”

He took her to the kitchen and found the hefty loaf of bread Vision had made earlier that evening. Always eager for a chance to show off in front of Jak, Loki took one of his daggers and twirled it along his fingers, when it finished twirling it had been transformed into a serrated bread knife that he used to saw at the loaf. Once the bread was cut, he twirled the knife once more, changing it into a butter knife.

“Would you care for some milk with this?” He offered as he set the plate of bread in front of her. She hadn’t been watching his knife twirling, she’d pulled her long hair in front of her face and pressed her hands to her eyes.

“Wine would be better,” she grumbled, “But I don’t drink so I’ll take the milk.”

“Well, calcium is good for your…” he bit back the word “bones” and hastily amended, “Calcium is good for you.”

He brought her a glass of milk and then sat on the stool next to her as she lowered her hands away from her eyes and tore the bread into tiny pieces. Eventually, she ate a piece and then the rest, hair still hiding her face as she chewed in silence.

“Murder is not completely off the table,” he said quietly, “If we put a sturdy disguise spell over you then you can get away with almost anything.”

“We don’t even know who we’d be killing,” she sighed, pushing the empty plate away from her and picking up the glass of milk, “If Mr. Stark can’t figure out who it is then there’s nothing we can do.”

“Forget Stark and his technology for a moment,” Loki told her, “Can you think of anyone who would do this?”

“No!” She replied in frustration, slamming the glass of milk down, some of the liquid sloshing over the sides, “Just like I have no idea who would send the Winter Soldier after me. Hardly anyone who might hate me is still alive. After the second World War, after my father died, we lived as anonymously as we could. It was only when Captain America showed up on the news during the invasion of New York that my mother started planning again.”

Her voice cracked slightly on the word “mother”.

“That was four and a half years ago,” Loki said, inwardly pushing down any of his own memories of the invasion in New York, “Is there anyone who you’ve met in the meantime who might have sent… that package?”

“I can’t think of anyone who might want to hurt me,” she shook her head, “The Avengers are the only enemies I had and what my mother and I did was nothing more than a wild weekend for them.”

“Are you so sure the sender is someone who wants to hurt you? Their note seemed congratulatory. They wanted you to use what they sent you to strengthen your powers,” he spoke without thinking and almost immediately regretted it.

“What are you talking about?” She snapped, “They sent me a box of my mother’s bones! How could that be anything more than a threat?”

“I’m sorry,” he put his hands up peaceably, “It is a very alarming thing for someone to do, but…”

“But what?!”

“It is an old practice, no longer considered ethical,” he flexed his fingers, “But, it is known amongst sorcerers that powdering the bones of another magic user can create a concoction to enhance one’s magical focus.”

Jak’s face whipped up to look at him, her hair hitting him in the face before landing over her shoulder. Her mouth twitched in silent horror and her brow furrowed with anger, or perhaps confusion, but Loki didn’t pay any notice to her expression. Her purple irises had gone bright orange.

A quick glance at the cuff on her wrist confirmed that it was still working. Rhodey had taken away her powers for the time being and had not given them back, but the way her eyes smoldered, it was clear magic was at play.

“Whoever sent the package wanted me to grind up my mother’s bones?!”

“It… seemed as if that was what they intended for you to do, yes,” Loki said slowly, not looking away from her eyes for one moment.

“What the hell?!” She roared, “Why would someone-? Who thought-? I would never do that!”

Loki did not mention that whoever it was must have wanted to spare her at least some trauma. Even after the three years her mother had been dead, the bones should not have been as pristine and clean as they were. Someone had gone to the trouble of bleaching any remaining flesh away -  a decidedly nasty process. But, he didn’t think mentioning this kindness on the mystery sender’s behalf would do much to appease Jak.

“Can you think of anyone who might wish for you to become stronger in your power?” He asked instead, “If that was truly their aim, then it considerably narrows down who might have sent the package.”

She looked at the ceiling, her eyes still blazing the color of lava. Then she looked back at him, immense hurt on her face that made him want to pull her into his arms.

“You… you didn’t do this… Loki, you're the only one I can think of who would want me to be more powerful. Tell me it wasn’t you. Please.”

It felt like a punch to the gut that she would even consider that it could be him, but he supposed it made a sort of terrible sense. He had been training her, he’d mentioned before to her that he thought Wanda was far more powerful. Perhaps she thought he was calling her inferior.

“Jak,” he said softly, “I have done many horrible things in my life, many I did gleefully, but I would not hurt you so, not even to make you the most powerful sorceress in all the realms. I know I am not a trustworthy person, but please believe me when I say this was not me.”

The orange color in her eyes dulled and then faded to the usual shade of violet. Tears welled up in those beautiful eyes and he quickly took her hand and stood up, pulling her closer to him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I knew it wasn’t you, but…”

“But all things considered we don’t actually know each other that well,” he ran his hand through her hair, “And I have a reputation for cruelty.”

“I’m sorry,” she said again. “I don’t know who it could be. I’m scared and I’m tired. And I… I miss my mother. She was a horrible person, she was mean and I know the way she treated me was wrong, but I miss her.”

Loki cursed himself when he immediately thought of Odin.

“She raised you,” he said into her hair, “Of course you miss her.”

He closed his eyes as he remembered how his father had held his hand when he was a boy, had smiled at him, told him he was born to be a king.

Jak gently wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek on his chest.

“But,” she sniffled, “If she were here, she would most likely hurt me more than comfort me.”

Loki opened his eyes to stop himself from picturing the shattered Rainbow Bridge, his brother willing him to hold on, the rubble of the Bifrost around them. But even with his eyes open, he could still see his father - Odin - saying that all of his efforts were for naught. The dismissal in that great king’s eyes as he scolded and the small spark of surprise when Loki let go.

“Parents know how to inflict the deepest cuts,” he told her, “Without even realizing they are holding the knife.”

She looked up at him then and he knew that she could see her own pain reflected back at her. Her hand slowly reached up to touch his cheek and he tangled his fingers in her hair as if to keep her from going away, though she seemed intent on staying regardless.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

“I haven’t done anything worthy of your thanks.”

“Yes you have,” she kissed his cheek, “You wield knives too, but you never turn the blades on me. You only cut the people who have done me harm.”

“And that loaf of bread over there.”

She snorted out a small laugh and after an hour of tears, anger, and fear, she finally smiled. It was not as beaming as the way she’d looked at him on the dock, but he treasured it just as much.

Chapter Text

“Teach me how to make someone writhe in pain without actually killing them,” Jak requested the next day as she and Loki faced each other in the sparring room. He did not seem surprised by the request, more amused if anything.

“I doubt the Avengers would like it if I taught you how to do that,” he chuckled, “Are you sure that’s what you want to learn today?”

“Yes.”

She’d seen the reason in not killing whoever had sent her the box of her mother’s bones. Doing that would send her to prison. In prison she would not have access to her magic and she’d decided that she didn’t want to give that up again. She also wouldn’t be able to see Loki anymore and the thought saddened her greatly. So, she would behave herself and not kill the sender when she found them. She would make them wish they were dead instead.

“Very well,” Loki nodded, “As usual, I’d like an answer to a question.”

She was fairly certain she already knew what he was going to ask and she’d already convinced herself that telling him about her original name, which was revealed in the note with the box of bones, was no great loss. He probably would have found out eventually anyway. 

“Ask away,” she put her hands on her hips.

“Has Captain Rogers approached you with a romantic proposition?”

She gaped at him.

“Sorry, what?”

“He stopped me yesterday and ordered me to break things off with you. He claimed it was not out of jealousy, but I am not so sure,” Loki shrugged.

“Is this because I hugged him?” She frowned, crossing her arms. She hadn’t thought he was going to comment on that. Not after the fragile state she’d been in when she realized what was in the box.

“No,” he replied quickly, “That was my own fault. I should have gone to you rather than to see the package.”

She agreed but didn’t say so.

“I just wondered if Rogers had similarly ordered you to break things off with me,” Loki shrugged.

“No, he didn’t. Did he say why he wanted you to dump me?”

That didn’t sound like something Steve would do. He was too noble to act on jealousy, so he must have thought that he had a good reason for making the request.

“He thinks I am twisting your mind and manipulating you,” Loki frowned, a troubled expression on his face. She remembered how alarmed he’d looked the day before when she’d briefly thought he might have been the one to send the box. True, he was known for his lies and betrayals, but she believed that his intentions toward her were genuine. More assuring: Thor believed Loki’s intentions were genuine and Thor had been around to see his brother’s tricks for a long time.

“I’ll talk to him,” she said, “He probably just thinks he’s looking out for me.”

“And he has made no romantic propositions to you?”

She put her hands on her hips and smiled at him. With a tilt of her head, she took a step closer to him and looked him up and down. 

“I can’t say that he has,” she grinned, “But even if he had, I wouldn’t be interested.”

Loki smiled back at her and all of a sudden he was standing only a few inches away. He lightly took hold of her chin and she felt as if her heart had become a buzzing hive of bees with how fast it was beating. When he lowered his face closer to hers, her breath caught and she forgot entirely where she was, who she was, what time of day it was, and anything else that might have weighed her down. All she could focus on was the feel of his fingers on her chin and how close he was moving toward her. Toward her lips in particular.

“Good,” he purred, his lips lightly brushing hers, “Because I do not like sharing.”

And then he had taken a step back and was conjuring a spell in his hand.

“Now, for our lesson today, let us recall the properties of magical defense that we discussed last week.”

Jak blinked in surprise and stumbled forward, her brain still empty of any thoughts. As she finally sorted herself out and tried to pay attention to his lesson, he winked and sent her mind spiraling again. Maybe Steve was right. Maybe Loki was messing with her somehow. But even if that was the case, she could no longer bring herself to worry about it. Not when he was looking at her like that.

.

.

An hour later, Jak knew so many spells for torture that she could have made an entire army quake in their boots. At least, that’s what it felt like. If she could actually gather enough wits to use any of the spells when the opportunity arose. She was still disappointed in herself for how pitifully she’d reacted the last time they’d had a run in with the Winter Soldier. Next time she’d be ready. And while she wouldn’t use the torture spells on him, she wouldn’t let him so easily overpower her either.

“You’ve done well today,” Loki remarked as she took a long drink from her water bottle, “What are your plans for the afternoon?”

“Unfortunately, there are a row of holes in the wall that all need to be patched,” she sighed, “Every once in a while, Thor forgets that he shouldn’t summon his hammer while he’s inside because Mjolnir doesn’t use doors.”

“Curse my brother,” Loki rolled his eyes, “I had hoped you might accompany me into town this afternoon. Evidently there is a new bookshop and I have been craving something to read for weeks.”

“That sounds like fun,” she grabbed a towel to wipe the sweat from her face with and headed for the door to the sparring room. “But even if I weren’t mending walls, Mr. Stark has decided that I’m no longer allowed in town without an Avenger to escort me. Especially after getting that package yesterday.”

An image of her mother’s skull flashed in her mind and she suppressed a shudder. It didn’t matter that she’d seen many, many human skulls before (while in Paris, she’d once been left in the catacombs as punishment for flirting with a stableboy), knowing that the bones in the box had once been her mother made them one of the worst things she’d ever seen. If she thought too long about how she recognized the teeth and how those teeth were once framed by a face, she started to feel nauseous.

“I would escort you, there would be no need for one of the Avengers to tag along,” Loki argued.

“Mr. Stark was insistent,” she shrugged, “Now, I’d better go change into my coveralls and get to work. If you have any experience patching steel reinforced drywall, feel free to join me.”

“I do not,” he caught up to her as she stepped into the hall, “But I’m sure I could be quite helpful with another task you mentioned.”

“What?”

“I am practically an expert in undressing,” he whispered in her ear, “I’m sure I could help you change out of those clothes… though I don’t know that I would help you put your coveralls on in their place.”

“Loki!” She yelped, trying to hide her flush with laughter, “It’s a good thing my father is dead or he would probably run you through with a sword!”

“Yes, but as you said, he is no longer with us,” Loki teased, “And you haven’t said ‘no’.”

“Thank you for the offer, but I think I’ll manage,” she rolled her eyes.

“Very well,” he bowed dramatically, “Will you be greatly saddened if I venture to the bookshop without you? I am in desperate need of a good book.”

“You go ahead. Maybe I can come with you another time.”

He nodded and headed off on his own. Jak continued on to her room to get changed into her work clothes. Her face was still red as a tomato as she peeled off her sweaty exercise clothes. She decided to wait for a shower until after she patched the walls, as she would undoubtedly want to bathe after the dusty task. As she planned this and pulled on the oil stained clothes and coveralls, she noticed a note on her desk that had not been there that morning.

Apprehensive about mystery deliveries after the day before, Jak considered calling in someone else to open it. But maybe it was a note of the romantic variety. If that were the case she certainly would not want anyone else reading it. So, ultimately, she picked it up and braced herself.

Winnet,

You are probably quite curious as to my identity. I would happily reveal it to you, but I cannot risk being caught on the Avenger’s property. Meet me tomorrow at five on the far bank of the river, in the wooded area, near the large rock shaped like a turtle. Come alone.

Jak’s hands were shaking by the time she finished reading. She let out a dismayed gasp when she realized that the sender must have been in her room in order to leave the note. They could have gone through her things, not that there was much to go through, but the thought still made her skin crawl.

Still holding the note, she rushed out into the hallway and nearly collided with Loki as he ran toward her.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“How did you know something was wrong?” She replied, confused until she remembered the spell he’d cast, “The door. It tells you things, right?”

“Yes. Like when you are scared,” he looked toward her bedroom, gaze fierce, but expression calm. “What happened? Is there someone in there?”

“No,” she held out the note, “But someone was there earlier.”

Loki quickly scanned over it and his frown deepened. “Assuming this is the person who sent the box, this seems like further proof that they are the one who has control of Sergeant Barnes. This may be another attempt to capture you.”

“It probably is,” she agreed, “I wasn’t planning on going. But how did they get in my room?”

“We will review security footage,” Loki pointed to the camera in the hallway, “We’ll see who it was and then tomorrow we’ll capture them at the rock.”

He sounded so sure of his plan that Jak almost believed it would work.

Chapter Text

Loki, Jak, Rogers, and Stark were gathered around a sleek monitor in the security booth of the Compound, watching and rewatching the footage from Jak’s room. It was aggravatingly unhelpful. There was no camera in Jak’s room, for her privacy, but the cameras in the hallway and not far from her window did not show any intruders. No one went into the room during the time that she was away from it.

Though she insisted that she would have seen the note if it had been left before she went to her magic lesson, they reviewed footage from the whole night before and much of the day before as well. Stark thought that perhaps the note had been planted when they were all distracted with the box of bones, but there was still no sign of someone coming or going.

“Maybe they got in through the vents?” Rogers suggested.

“The vent grate in my room is not industrial size,” Jak shook her head, “It’s only ten by four inches. All of the residential room vents are.”

“To keep Barton from snooping,” Stark nodded, “He can crawl in the ducts all he wants, but he’s not going to steal my stash of dried blueberries.”

“He doesn’t even live here,” Jak replied with a confused frown.

“No, but you never know when he’s going to show up in the vent,” Stark narrowed his eyes. “He could be up there right now and we’d never know.”

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

“The intruder could have been in the ducts and dropped the note through the vent?” Rogers suggested.

“The vent grate is too far away from my desk,” Jak replied.

“So it was magic then,” Loki finally decided. He’d surmised as much when Friday had assured them that no one new had entered the building. “Magic or someone with access to the security feed who has scrubbed themselves from the footage.”

“The only people who have access to the security feed are Avengers and security personnel,” Stark said, scratching his goatee, “None of us would have done it. I’ll start looking into the others. I’m thinking spontaneous performance reviews will do the trick.”

“I’d place a hefty wager on the intruder using magic to deliver the note,” Loki said, “They want Jak to increase her magical ability. They likely have some magic of their own.”

“You’re the magic expert,” Rogers crossed his arms and nodded at Loki, “What’s the plan to deal with this person?”

“I think we should give them what they want,” Loki smirked and wrapped his arm around Jak’s shoulders, “Jaklyn goes out to meet them, alone, and finds out who they are.”

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that plan,” Jak winced. “Especially if they have magic. The odds are that they’ll be better at it than I am and it won’t be hard for them to capture me.”

“Which is why it won’t really be you going,” Loki assured her, “I’ll go in disguise. Maybe I’ll even let them capture me. Then we can find out what’s really going on and if it involves Captain Roger’s dearly beloved Bucky.” 

“You can’t get kidnapped,” Jak protested, grabbing his hand and holding it with both of hers. “I know you think you’re invincible, but I’m not just going to let you put yourself in danger for me!”

“I won’t be in any danger,” he chuckled, “If I think I’m in over my head, I’ll just reveal who I really am and tell our enemy that if they hurt me they’ll be starting a war with Asgard. Any human with an ounce of sense could probably figure out why that would be a bad idea.”

“We can hook you up with a tracking device,” Stark offered, “We’ll make it something discreet, like an earring or a pair of sunglasses. Then we can figure out where they take you and rescue you if the bad guy doesn’t have any sense and decides to kill you anyway.”

“No,” Jak said resolutely, “I still don’t like it.”

“Then what would you have us do?” Loki asked, “We cannot let them get away. Not when they are so kindly offering themself up on a platter.”

“I… I don’t know, but -”

“I’ll be fine,” he turned her so that he was looking him in the eye, “Besides, I’ve already made up my mind. There will be no stopping me now.”

“Loki…”

“If they kill me, you can just go back to the way things were before I showed up and made your life complicated! Or sign on with the Avengers and avenge me!”

“I don’t want life to go back to the way it was before you showed up,” she gripped his hand tighter, “I like having you here!”

He felt a warmth in his chest and pulled her into a hug. He rested his chin on top of her head and breathed in the lilac scent of her. He caught a glimpse of Rogers and Stark awkwardly looking away, then at each other, and then away again.

“I’m going to be fine. And we’ll capture the idiot who dared to threaten you, and then we’ll go visit that bookshop in town together and maybe even go on a normal date without fear of the Winter Soldier ruining things.”

.

.

The next day, Loki cast an illusion to make himself look like Jaklyn. Stark gave him a delicate gold necklace to where that apparently contained a tracking device. They didn’t dare give him an earpiece, for fear their adversary would see it, but Sam Wilson planned to have his drone, Red Wing, do a few flybys to keep an eye on things. Loki knew that Red Wing looked a bit too conspicuous, so he’d glamoured the thing to look like a cardinal. Sam argued that it should have been a falcon, but Loki countered that a falcon was a bit too on the nose.

“Damn, that’s weird,” Jak said when she saw Loki disguised as her. She was going to wait in the safe room during the operation, in case the Winter Soldier was lurking nearby waiting to pounce.

“You know, your Marilyn Monroe illusion was excellent work,” Loki told her, “You could probably make yourself look like me while I’m you.”

“And why would I do that?” She asked with a small laugh.

“Well, someone ought to wear such a handsome face while I cannot.”

She rolled her eyes, but a moment later she shortened and darkened her hair, grew several inches, and her coveralls changed into fine Asgardian leather. Her eyes remained purple, but this was fortunate, for it reminded Loki to change the color of his own eyes to match.

“Kneel before me,” she pointed at him, doing a terrible impression of his voice before breaking into laughter. “I think this might be weirder than seeing you as me.”

“You know how in love with my own visage I am,” Loki smirked, stepping closer and examining her work. He tilted his head and tapped his chin, “But I think I prefer you with your own face.”

“Good call,” she dispelled the illusion and shook her head when she looked at him again, “Hmm, you’d better change back to yourself as soon as you're done. I’m not sure I can stand having a boyfriend that looks exactly like me.”

Loki raised an eyebrow. She’d never called him her boyfriend before. He wasn’t sure he liked the term.

“ Boyfriend , hmm?” He asked skeptically.

Her eyes widened and her lips parted in surprise as a blush filled her cheeks.

“I guess we haven’t really put a… err, I suppose we aren’t really… Ahem,” she cleared her throat and clasped her hands in front of her, not looking him in the eye, “My apologies, I didn’t mean to assume. We don’t need a label. I suppose we aren’t officially anything, are we?”

“Now, now,” he tsked, “I wouldn’t say that. I just feel that ‘boyfriend’ is too trivial a term. Don’t you? I am hardly a mere boy,” he looked down at himself, “particularly at this moment.”

“So… what would you prefer?” She asked him. “We don’t have to… there doesn’t have to be a title or anything. I just… it just slipped out, since we’ve been, uh, going steady.”

“I suppose we might call each other our paramours,” he teased with a wink, “Though I suppose that has the connotation of something secret and illicit.”

“Many people today use the term ‘partner’,” she suggested, “It’s very simple, sort of ambiguous. Maybe we’re partners in crime, all things considered.”

He shook his head. “Too cold. It makes me feel as if I’m referring to a business associate. And though there is all sorts of business I’d like to get up to with you, I’m not sure it’s the same kind.”

“You’re such a rake,” she rolled her eyes and took a step closer to him, reaching out and smoothing the hair that matched her own. “How about… suitor? Or beau?” She giggled lightly. “You could be my beau.”

“How about your swain?” He teased, “Your gentleman caller?”

“And what will I be? Your lady friend?” She wrinkled her nose, “Sounds like something an ancient old man might say.”

“I am literally ancient, so I suppose that might work,” he winked at her, “But perhaps ‘my main squeeze’ might be better. Or sweetheart?”

“Oh great heavens no!” she shrilled, bursting into laughter.

“Hmm, the way you talk, people might start to think you’re ancient too.”

“Golly gee, I sure wouldn’t want anyone to think that.”

It amused Loki for a moment as they laughed about it, but then he saw Captain Rogers enter the room and he realized that the terms of endearment they’d been using were probably more appropriate for the era Captain America grew up in. The jokes they’d been making were about a time that Loki had lived through, yes, but the origin of those words was from a culture not his own.

“It’s hard to tell you two apart,” Rogers said, with the polite smile of forced conversation, “If Loki weren’t using his own voice I don’t think I could tell the difference.”

“He’s incredible with illusions,” Jak said and Loki thought he heard a twinge of pride in her voice.

“I know he is,” Rogers nodded, “He tricked you into thinking he was me when you were training a couple of weeks ago. You never know who he’ll be next. Clever trick and an easy way to get out of a fight, right?”

There was a not so subtle jibe that Loki pretended not to notice. 

“Only a bit easier than hiding behind a giant unbreakable frisbee,” Jak replied with an innocent smile. Loki had to hide his own, less than innocent smile by turning away.

“Touche,” Rogers nodded and then looked right at Loki, “Tony set you up with a tracking device?”

“Apparently it is already tracking my every move.”

“And Sam told you about Red Wing?”

“I’ve disguised the metal bird as a real bird. Another one of my clever tricks.”

“Good thinking. It’s almost time, are you ready to go?”

“One last thing, before I head out,” he turned to Jak and changed his appearance back to himself for a moment, pulling her into a kiss (he wasn’t sure that she would appreciate kissing her own face). As he moved back an inch he lowered his voice to a whisper. “I’ve thought of the perfect label.”

“You have?”

“ Elskan mín ,” he replied.

“What does that mean?”

“I’ll tell you when I get back,” he kissed her again and then changed his appearance to match hers once more. “Ready, Captain. Let’s find out who I’m going to… not kill because that would ruin my rehabilitation, but let’s find out who I’m going to capture and possibly severely wound.”

Captain Rogers frowned.

“Who I’m going to wound only if necessary,” Loki amended.

“Just don’t let them hurt you back,” Jak called after him as he headed for the meeting place. 

“I would never allow such a thing, my dear sweetheart!”

Chapter Text

“Hello?” Loki called in Jaklyn’s voice as he stepped into the clearing near the large turtle shaped boulder. He looked around but didn’t see another person. Red Wing flew overhead, in disguise, and landed on a branch. 

A few minutes passed and Loki boredly climbed atop the boulder, sitting on the “turtle’s” head. From higher up he could see a little farther, but still did not spot anyone else in the vicinity. Perhaps the person had meant five in the morning, not evening and Loki had already missed them. Or they had a mole amongst the Avengers who had told them that it would be Loki, not Jak, coming to see them.

But, while Loki did not care for the team his brother so loved, he could not imagine them betraying Jak to whoever this enemy was. They were all too noble for that. Even the spy and assassin, Black Widow, would not do such a thing. Well, he hoped anyway. The Widow had fooled him once or twice before, he supposed she might be able to do it again. But he could not imagine what reason she would have to betray Jak.

“Aren’t you a fine sight for tired old eyes?” A high pitched voice called. With a puff of yellow-orange magic, suddenly a small boy appeared in the clearing with a wicked grin on his tiny face.

Loki knew immediately that the person was in disguise as well. That, or he was some sort of immortal stuck in the body of a child - not a pleasant fate. Had Jak told him about any children in her life? Surely she would have mentioned a younger brother. It was more likely that he was disguising himself with magic so as not to be recognized right away.

Confident in this assessment, Loki shook his head in confusion and hopped down off the rock, keeping his body language wary. He nervously rubbed his arm and frowned at the boy before him, squinting as if he were trying to recognize him.

“Sorry about my appearance,” the boy said, looking Loki - who looked like Jak - up and down, “One can never be too careful and Tony Stark has cameras everywhere.”

“Right,” Loki nodded. He knew from experience that, in situations like these, it was better to say as little as possible and allow the other person to fill in the details.

“You know, Winnet, I thought I told you to come alone,” the child crossed his arms and tilted his head, “How terribly naughty of you to bring a friend.”

“What? I didn’t!” Loki protested, “It’s just you and me here!”

“You, me, and a cardinal that is watching us a little too intently,” he pointed at the tree and flicked his wrist. The illusion fell away and revealed the Red Wing drone. “Was it you who magicked the masking spell on that thing or the fallen Asgardian prince?”

“I had no idea that was there!” Loki protested, noting that this person knew of his existence in the Compound and knew who he was. 

“You’re smarter than that, Winnet. I know you are. Don’t play dumb,” the child flung a ball of fire at Red Wing, but the drone dodged and landed on a different tree.

“Fine. Can you blame me for wanting a little assurance? You’ve sent the Winter Soldier to try and kidnap me three times!”

“So you’ve connected those dots, hmm? Well done. But I suppose you are still floundering trying to figure out who I am, aren’t you?”

“If I send the drone away, will you tell me?” Loki prompted.

“Unless you have a recording device on your person. Do you?”

“No.”

“Hmm, I don’t trust that. Those Avengers have corrupted your mind. I’m sure they wouldn’t let you out of their sight without some sort of technological aid,” the boy laughed suddenly and made a fist. The necklace Loki wore flew from his neck and fell at the feet of the child, who stomped on it. Red Wing fell from the tree and the boy stomped on that as well before picking it up and hurling it farther away than a little boy should have been able to throw.

“There, now we are alone.”

“So you will tell me who you are?”

“No,” the boy smiled.

Loki took a few steps back. “In that case, I don’t know why I’m here.”

“Honestly? I don’t know why you’re here either,” the boy twisted his wrist in Loki’s direction and the Asgardian felt a tug at his disguise spell. Whoever this boy was, he possessed powerful magic, but not strong enough to remove Loki’s illusion. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, still playing at being Jak.

“That’s stuck on there like honey in hair,” the boy chuckled, “But I suppose that’s what I should have expected from a god.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You are good at what you do, Loki of Asgard, but I knew from the moment I stepped in this clearing that you were not my Winnet. I suppose I should have known better than to think that she might meet me without telling her new friends about it.”

“Just tell me who you are,” Loki pleaded, still keeping up the disguise.

“Oh drop it. While I have you here, there is something I need to discuss with you anyway. And I’d rather you wore your own face for the conversation.”

Narrowing his eyes, Loki finally relented and became himself again.

“Very well,” he flashed a taunting smile at the boy, though his mind was still calculating, “You’ve found me out. What would you say to the God of Tricks and Lies?”

“My plots are none of your concern. Winnet should not be of your interest either. You need to give up your childish pursuit of her or I will be forced to intervene.”

“And why does it matter to you whether I am involved with her?”

“Come now, you are a prince. An Asgardian. A god! If mythology serves, you will bring about Ragnarok. Others think you’ll try again to conquer Midgard. Surely you have better things to do than feign interest in a mere human ,” the boy laughed.

“I would not say she is a ‘mere’ human. You are clearly aware that she possesses magic.”

“Still,” the boy clucked and shook his head as if disappointed, “I’m sure there are other magical women on earth if that is what draws you to her. The witch, for example. Would she not be more to your tastes? Far less hassle.”

Loki thought of Wanda and how Vision would probably use the Mind Stone to annihilate him if he made a pass at her. 

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“Whatever. Find some other woman. Winnet will not warm your bed while you take a passing interest in her. There are much bigger things in store for her and you are getting in the way,” the boy snarled and then calmed himself, “Now. I know you can be reasonable. If you give her over to me, I will reward you.”

“I doubt you have anything that I want,” Loki scoffed.

“No? Not even an Infinity Stone?”

This piqued Loki’s interest, mostly because he was curious which Stone exactly this boy claimed to have. He could account for the location of three of the Stones. The Space Stone was in Asgard, the Reality Stone had been taken to Knowhere for safekeeping, and the Mind Stone was in Vision’s head. Rumor had it that the Power Stone was on Xandar, locked in a vault. That only left the Time Stone and the Soul Stone. And scholars were not even sure the Soul Stone existed.

“You would trade an Infinity Stone for her?” Loki asked with a wicked smile, “Then clearly I ought to keep her. If she is worth more than one of the stones that helped form the universe then I don’t think I’ll be letting her go.”

“I possess the Tesseract,” the boy claimed, “It is useless to me. There is no place in this universe that I care to travel to that will serve my purposes. But Winnet has a great amount of value to me. Only to me.”

“You possess the Tesseract?” Loki raised a brow, “And where exactly did you come by that?”

“I stole it from SHIELD when they collapsed after the Helicarrier incident in Washington D.C. With Hydra running amok, there was no one to guard their Project PEGASUS facility. It was easy to take.”

Loki could have laughed. Clearly this boy was a bit behind with the times. Loki’s arrival on earth right before the Battle of New York, had destroyed the Project PEGASUS facility. Well before the fall of SHIELD.

“I no longer have interest in playing with cosmic forces of that scale,” he shrugged, “It brings nothing but trouble. Keep your Infinity Stone. I’ll keep Jaklyn.”

“I’ve tried to be reasonable,” the boy growled, the dark expression looking out of place on his adorable face, “I will not kill you because it risks Odin’s wrath, but perhaps I will lock you away. I’m sure the Winter Soldier would like a cellmate - ”

“Loki!” Jaklyn’s voice called, “Loki? Are you out here?!”

“Winnet,” the boy whispered, eyes going wide.

Loki took advantage of the distraction and threw a blast of magic at the boy. It knocked him off his feet and seemed to daze him for a moment. However, before Loki could go closer to subdue him, the boy vanished with a puff of yellow smoke. Jak crashed into the clearing, fists raised, both blazing with pink magic as her skin glowed and her hair floated out behind her. 

“Are you okay?” She asked, looking around the clearing. When she didn’t see anyone she extinguished her fists and hurried over to him. “When he took out Red Wing -”

“I was fine,” Loki dismissed, slightly miffed, “I probably could have found out more if you hadn’t startled him.”

“Well excuse me for worrying about you,” she frowned, stepping closer and placing a hand on his arm, looking him up and down, “You are alright, though, aren’t you? He didn’t hurt you?”

“Not in the slightest,” his irritation faded as her hands feathered over him, checking for injuries, or perhaps just checking to make sure he was really there. “I’m surprised Stark let you out on your own. The whole point of the operation was to keep you out of danger.”

“She punched me in the nose!” Sam Wilson declared, stepping into the clearing and rubbing his nose, “We tried to hold her back but then she turned into a fireball on us and we couldn’t keep up!”

“Sorry, Sam,” Jak winced, “I didn’t mean to hit you, it was my elbow.”

“Aw no, Red Wing!” Sam ignored her and collected the bent parts that made up his drone, “Alright. That creepy kid is in big trouble when we find him again. Not only is he threatening Jaklyn, he busted up my bird!”

“What happened after the drone went out?” Jak asked Loki.

“The boy offered me a trade,” Loki rolled his eyes, “He said if I handed you over he’d give me an Infinity Stone.”

“Damn,” Jak whistled, “I assume you were about to make the deal when I showed up?”

“Of course not,” Loki looked at her in shock.

“Really? You wouldn’t trade me for an Infinity Stone?”

“First of all, he was lying. He offered the Tesseract, which I know is locked in Odin’s vault and has been since the Battle of New York. Second of all, I am offended that you think so little of me!”

“You’re joking,” she teasingly pushed him, “I haven’t known you for long, Loki, but I know with one hundred percent certainty that if he’d actually had the Tesseract, you wouldn’t have even batted an eye before agreeing to hand me over.”

“Now, now,” Loki smirked and pushed her back, “I probably would have lost a whole night’s sleep over it. Maybe even two.”

“I’m flattered,” she rolled her eyes and then her expression became serious, “Did you learn anything new about him? Did he say a name? Or how he is connected to me?”

“He admitted to working with the Winter Soldier.”

“Yeah, we got that part before he stomped on Red Wing,” Sam cradled the metal pieces to his chest.

“He knew who I was immediately, or so he claimed, and he continued to talk about you as if he’d known you for a long time,” Loki told Jak. “And he kept using that older name of yours… Winnet .”

She averted his gaze when he said the name and squeezed her eyes closed.

“I don’t like this,” she muttered, “Who is this person? And why is he after me? How does he know so much about me?”

“We will find him and we will find answers,” Loki promised, “In the meantime, let us get you back to the safety of the Compound. Who knows if Bucky Barnes is running amok - ah! That reminds me, he also mentioned that Barnes is in a cell. Or at least, he implied that he is contained somewhere, perhaps against his will.”

“Steve will be, well, not ‘glad’ to hear that,” Sam said, “But it’s good to know that maybe he’s putting up a fight against this guy. Maybe we can get him on our side.”

They discussed every detail of the encounter as they walked back to the Compound and then went over it again with the other Avengers. Rogers did seem relieved that his childhood friend might not be voluntarily chasing down Jaklyn. After a debrief and more discussion about next moves, Loki and Jak found themselves alone again.

“You know, our foe seemed particularly concerned that we are bedpartners,” Loki prompted with a raised brow. Just as he hoped, her face went bright red. It really was too easy to tease her.

“And you corrected him, right?”

“Well,” he chuckled, moving closer to her and twisting her hair around his fingers, reeling her in toward him. “I didn’t say we are… but I also didn’t say we’re not.”

“Of course not,” she frowned, but there was no real displeasure behind it.

“I like to leave possibilities open,” he shrugged. He let go of her hair and watched it unfurl over her shoulder. Though he knew he ought to direct his thoughts toward more gentlemanly images, he began to imagine that same hair tumbling over bare skin. It was long enough that, were she not wearing a top, she would still be covered, though just barely.

He quickly shoved the thoughts away and refocused, turning his eyes back to her face.

“Our enemy was genuinely upset by the idea… I don’t suppose you have an old flame who might be burning with jealousy? Perhaps that might solve our mystery.”

“I’ve told you before, no one has courted me in over a century. And the ones before that were just young men who were connected to power that my father thought would be a good match. Believe me, none of them were at all interested in me beyond what alliances could be struck by taking my hand.”

“You’re sure?” Loki found her hands and held them tightly, “Did you court anyone while you went by ‘Winnet’?”

“A boy or two,” she shrugged, “One found a more influential wife, and the other my father decided was unworthy of my time. His time.”

“That one, what was his name?”

“Loki, that was when I was sixteen. Even if I did remember what his name was, he would be long dead by now. Even his tombstone has probably crumbled at this point,” she scoffed, but Loki saw the way she bit her lip.

“What was he like? This boy who is long dead?”

“Rude,” she said immediately, “Entitled. We were in the newly freed United States and he still thought himself to be some sort of prince among men.”

“How dreadful,” Loki smirked and she laughed.

“It’s different when you actually are a prince,” she squeezed his hand, “He always stood too close to me and he smelled like onions. I don’t remember why my father called it off, but I remember being glad that he did.”

“Was the boy upset?”

“Yes, but my mother used magic to change his mind and send him on his way. I don’t recall seeing him again after,” she stepped closer and rested her head on his chest. “It’s not him. I’m sure my father would have paid more attention to him if that boy had the potential to live forever or if he knew any sort of magic.”

“If you’re sure. Though I’d feel better if you could remember his name so we can find a grave or a record of death.”

“I’ll try.”

He rested his chin on top of her head and reveled in every light touch between the two of them. He supposed he couldn’t blame her for not remembering; when he held her in his arms, the names of any past lovers he had escaped his memory. How ridiculous that he’d gone so soft for a Midgardian. More ridiculous still that he was going to so much effort to protect her.

“I’ll catch that bastard and we’ll torture him until he tells us everything,” he vowed. “I’ll hunt him down and make him tell us who he is.”

“Don’t put yourself at risk for me again,” she told him sternly, “I’m a terribly old woman, remember? Such nonsense is not good for my poor nerves.”

“Unfortunately for your poor nerves, the fonder I grow of you, the more likely it is that I will do stupid things for you. Maybe someday I’ll even like you enough to turn my nose up at a real Infinity Stone, elskan mín .”

“You still haven’t told me what that means,” she crossed her arms and raised a brow. “You had better not be calling me something stupid in whatever language you speak in Asgard.”

“I’m actually using the old Nordic language.”

“And what does it mean?”

He pressed a quick kiss to her lips and then took a step back.

“I should let you get back to work. This ordeal has distracted you enough for one day.”

“It’s dinner time anyway,” she took a step closer to him and he took another back. “And I know you don’t have anywhere to go.”

“Not true. I never did get to visit that bookshop yesterday.”

“What does elskan mín mean, Loki?” She took another step closer and put a hand on his chest. He couldn’t help himself, he kissed her once more before smiling and running off. He called out his answer over his shoulder, but did not wait to hear her response.

“It means my love .”

Chapter Text

My love .

Those two words kept swirling through Jak’s head as she went about her work the next day. They were all she could think while she mopped the lobby floor, they echoed in her ears as she changed the filter on the pool, they chimed sweetly in her mind as she scrubbed the sink in the bathroom.

Had he really meant it? Did he actually love her or was he using the pet name teasingly? She wasn’t sure that she could work up the courage to ask. Or even if she wanted to know the answer.

What did it mean if Loki, Asgardian Prince, Norse God of Mischief, Destroyer of New York, loved her? He couldn’t. What did it mean if she loved him back? How did she even know if she did? The only people she’d ever “loved” were her parents and that was only because her mother told her that she did. Well… there was that one person she thought she might love… but that had been long ago and brief. Even then she hadn’t truly understood her feelings. 

She felt childish, not knowing what it was to love anyone. Toddlers knew what it was to love parents and siblings. Children loved their friends and family, their teachers, their schoolyard crushes. Teenagers fell in love all the time, and felt true heartbreak if things didn’t work out. And yet, here Jak was at two hundred and fifty (give or take) years and she wasn’t sure that she’d loved one person in her whole long life.

Frustrated as Loki’s voice filled her head once more, whispering elskan mín - my love - Jak threw her scrub brush against the marble sink top. It clattered and splattered onto the floor, skittering under one of the bathroom stalls. This was a public restroom meant to be used for reporters during press conferences, so she wasn’t expecting anyone else to be there. Until she heard a surprised “oh” from the stall.

“Lady Janitor, you have dropped your cleaning instrument,” Thor’s voice told her.

“Oh geez, I’m sorry Mr. Thor, I didn’t realize you were in here!” She cringed, trying very hard not to imagine what the Asgardian might be doing in the stall. “I’ll come back later.”

“No need,” Thor burst from the stall with a forced smile and puffy red eyes. “I am, uh, finished with my business.”

Jak raised a brow, having not heard a flush.

“Oh. Okay. Are you alright?”

He headed for the door - without washing his hands - and chuckled loudly.

“Never better!” He nodded vigorously, “Nothing like a successful bowel movement, right?”

“Riiiight…” Jak tried not to look completely disgusted, “Err, I’m done cleaning the sinks… you can use them.”

“Oh! Of course!” He laughed even louder and made a derpy face, “That’s obviously what I was thinking. That you had some sort of, uh, cleaning chemical in the sinks that made them unfit to use, and I was just going to another bathroom to wash my hands. Because I had a bowel movement. And it is only proper and necessary to wash up after… yep. You get the idea.”

He drew a sharp breath through his teeth and then applied a mountain of foamy soap to his hands before washing them with conviction.

“Mr. Thor, are you sure you’re okay?” She asked gently. If her time with Loki had taught her anything, it was that Asgardian princes were cagey about their feelings.

“Please, just Thor,” he told her with a smile, “Or Mr. Odinson if you must be so formal.”

“Odinson,” she repeated, “I, uh, I guess I didn’t know you had a surname.”

“Sort of,” he replied, adding more soap to his hands and beginning the process of washing over again. “It is basically just saying that I am a son of Odin.”

“Ah. Makes sense,” she briefly considered that this meant Loki’s surname was most likely also Odinson. Or was it? Thor had once mentioned that Loki was adopted, but surely that didn’t make a difference. Though… his strained relationship with his father might.

“I understand that Baker is not your real last name, is that right?” Thor asked curiously.

“Legally it is,” she shrugged and picked up the scrub brush from the bathroom stall where it had landed. She also noticed that, though Thor hadn’t flushed, the toilet was empty. Thank goodness. She’d cleaned up a toilet that the big blond had clogged before and it had traumatized her.

“Is it the name you prefer?”

“For now,” she replied, “I’ve had so many names over the years that it feels odd to have had the same one for so long. I guess that’s what happens when you get caught trying to kill Captain America. You get stuck with whatever name is on the paperwork.”

“What was your father’s name?” Thor asked, finally ending his cycle of hand washing and grabbing some of the paper towels from her custodial cart. “Perhaps you could make your surname the way we do in Asgard.”

“I don’t know his real name,” she said softly, trying to remember all of the names she’d known him by over the years. She remembered the family name they’d all used in her childhood. They’d been the Van Vucht family, but she’d learned from a young age that Ernst Van Vucht was just another mask her father wore. “The one he had when he died was Leroy Embry.”

“You could be Jaklyn Leroydottir! That is a bit of a mouthful.”

Jak smiled. “Yeah, probably not that, but it’s a good thought. Although, I’m not sure I really want to associate myself with him anymore.”

“Understandable,” Thor nodded, “From what I hear, he was not a father to be looked up to. Of course, depending on who you ask, neither was mine.”

“I got that impression from Loki,” she admitted, not wanting to offend Thor’s own feelings toward his father.

“My brother… he and Odin have a complicated relationship. One that I doubt shall ever heal fully,” Thor sighed, “Loki has not been himself in several years and much as I am loath to admit it, I believe a large part of that is because of my father’s actions.”

“What happened between them?” She asked.

“I think Loki would rather tell you himself when he feels ready,” Thor patted her shoulder, “Though, he likes you well enough that I’m sure you could just ask him.”

That reminded her of her earlier spiraling thoughts and just as Thor was set to leave her to her cleaning, she stopped him.

“Thor?”

“Yes?”

“Loki… he told you he likes me?”

“Not in so many words,” the prince grinned, “But I have known him long enough to recognize when he is besotted.”

“Is there… is there anything else he might have said about me?”

“Oh plenty,” Thor’s smile grew, “But as his big brother I am sworn to secrecy.”

Jak laughed. “Fair enough, I would not do anything to break the trust between brothers.”

“Ha! Trust? I’m not sure there has ever been trust between Loki and I. But I would never let him down. Especially not on a matter of such importance.”

He turned to go again, but she stopped him once more.

“Thor? Were you crying in the bathroom stall?”

“Whaaaat? No. Certainly not. I was obviously using the toilet for its intended purpose. Not as a spot to hide away while I wallowed in misery. That would be stupid of me.”

She raised a brow at him.

“Well. Perhaps just a bit. There was no wallowing. I’m fine. Completely fine.”

“If you say so,” she reached out and patted his gigantic arm, “But if you aren’t okay and you want to talk about it, I may not have any advice, but I can listen.”

His lip quivered for a moment, but he pulled it into a smile and then left in a hurry. Jak sighed as she watched him go and then got back to work. 

She should have asked Thor how he could still love Loki after being betrayed time and again. Jak had never been really tricked by Loki, but knowing him it was only a matter of time. Did Thor still love him just because of family obligation? The way Jak loved her mother no matter how many times she hit her or insulted her? Or did Thor genuinely care for his brother, despite the betrayals and literal back stabbings? Why? How?

Or maybe she should have asked Thor how he knew that he loved Jane Foster. He’d left a kingdom full of gold and gods to be with her. It must have been because he loved her, but if Jak had a stable life and family, she could not imagine giving it up for someone who might break her heart anyway. 

Of course, her life was hardly stable and she had no family left, so there wasn’t really anything to risk. 

This thought comforted her somewhat. She supposed that her life had been so tumultuous that having Loki break her heart would not even disrupt it that much. Like a strike of lightning during a hurricane. There were bigger things to worry about.

So, she supposed if she did fall in love - if she even knew what love was - it would not be able to burn her if she fell back out of it. But that still left the question of if Loki loved her. This was not something she felt she could ask him, even if Thor claimed that Loki was besotted with her. 

“Gah!” She groaned, taking her headphones off the cleaning car and shoving them on her head. She cranked up Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake Waltz and tried to drown the irritating thoughts of love and romance out of her head. She tried to remind herself that there were more important things to focus on at the moment. 

Her mother’s bones.

The sorcerer who’d sent them.

Bucky Barnes.

She dropped her scrub brush again thinking of Sergeant James Barnes. With her time devoted to learning magic and dating Loki, and then with the crippling emotions that came with seeing her mother’s bones in a box, she’d hardly had time to process that the assassin who had been after her was actually the Winter Soldier.

“Bucky…” she murmured as she picked up her brush. She ran the bristles over her gloved hand as she stared into the mirror. The music in her ears was by a Russian composer. She’d met James Barnes in a frigid Russian base after the war. And maybe she knew him a bit better than she’d let on. Maybe she and her mother had spent longer at the Winter Soldier program than she’d told them. Maybe she’d made friends with Sergeant Barnes before her mother and Arnim Zola had erased his mind.

Maybe she just didn’t need the Avengers - or Loki - knowing that, apart from her mother and father, Bucky had been the first person who she thought she might have loved.

Chapter Text

Loki barely had a chance to see Jak for the next week. Agent Woo and the parole board were very concerned when they learned that Jaklyn's mother's remains had been stolen, had the flesh removed, and sent to the Avengers Compound. They became more concerned when Jak mentioned to Agent Woo what Loki had said about grinding up the bones to become more powerful. While the agent believed Jak when she said she hadn't stolen the remains, the parole board wasn't so sure.

All week long, she was taken back and forth to the city to meet with her lawyer, a slew of agents, and the board. Because everyone agreed that Loki's presence would not help matters, he was confined to the Compound and only saw her when he followed her as she cleaned. He'd suggested she stop her janitorial duties while everything was sorted out, but she told him that her work was part of her probationary agreement and if she stopped she'd be in even more trouble.

Loki did his best to distract her from cleaning and maintenance anyway. He created intricate illusions in the rooms she was meant to be moping, intending to entertain her. It only frustrated her and she quickly began using her own magic to punch holes in his illusions. She wasn't powerful enough to dispel them completely, but she managed to make enough holes to complete her work. Loki stopped glamouring the rooms and instead disguised himself every night as someone different and waited to see how long it took her to realize he was not an Avenger.

He stopped this when she began to talk to everyone as if they were him just to annoy him. She pretended that every person she came across was him, even when he was not disguised and standing right next to her.

Not to be stopped in his mission to distract her from the parole board and her work, Loki began reading aloud to her from the books he picked up at the bookshop in town. Particularly cheap romance novels and the more amorous scenes in those books. While it did not embarrass him in the least to read these scenes out loud, Jak's face turned bright red with every word. For a short time, she allowed this to continue, but when he started reading an especially graphic book, she finally put her headphones on and ignored him. He only laughed and concocted another scheme.

Though he was most definitely annoying her, he made sure never to push it too far. He was trying to keep her mind off her legal troubles, not make her hate him.

As the investigation into the stolen bones continued, however, Jak was asked to be in the city more frequently. The following week, Stark suggested she stay at Avengers Tower until the business was concluded. Having worked for the Avengers before they moved to the Compound, she was familiar with the building and other custodial staff. It was a fine solution and kept her from exhausting herself. It made perfect sense.

But, selfish as he was, Loki still asked her not to go.

"It's just temporary," she assured as she packed her bag. The same bag she had packed the day after he arrived, when she had wanted to be as far from him as possible.

"Completely unsafe," he said, sitting on her bed next to the suitcase. Once she had her back turned he took out the item that she'd just put in, hiding it behind his back.

"The Tower has great security," she replied, putting a shirt in the bag and turning away again. Loki took the shirt out and hid that behind him as well.

"It does not," he scoffed, "Not unless they've had a major update since my invasion."

She placed a pair of pants in the bag and frowned in confusion when she didn't see the shirt. Shaking her head, she looked at him and smiled wryly. "Okay, maybe not great security. My mother and I were able to get in pretty easily as well. But Happy Hogan is there. And Mr. Stark will be there."

"I still find it absurd that everyone thinks I should not accompany you," he huffed. When she turned away he took the pants out of her suitcase and hid them. "It has been quite some time since I've murdered anyone. I am a shining example of what they wish for your rehabilitation to result in. Am I not?"

"One, you are constantly threatening to gut people or slit throats or crack skulls," she laughed, digging through her dresser drawer, "And two, the American government is never very good at seeing rehabilitation. In their eyes, once a criminal, always a criminal - especially if you are not a 'typical American'."

She brought another shirt over to the suitcase and narrowed her eyes, immediately suspecting him.

"Something the matter?" He asked innocently.

"Put my pants back in the bag," she pointed.

With a great sigh, he did so.

"There was another shirt in there too, wasn't there?"

Loki sighed even louder and put that back as well. Then he reached behind his back and lifted the third item, a bra, with a single finger.

"I suppose you'll be wanting this as well?"

"Loki!"

"It is a rather dull garment, don't you think?" He handed it back to her and as she grabbed it he transformed it, changing the simple white cups to sheer black lace, trimmed with silky green ribbons.

"You are a menace," she snapped, summoning magic to her hand and attempting to change the bra back to its original appearance. His magic stubbornly remained so she gave up and tossed it into her suitcase. "Fine. I suppose that just means I'll have to find an occasion in Manhattan to wear that. Without you."

He laughed. "You won't. But you'll have to wear that undergarment at some point while you're away and I'm sure you'll think of me when you do."

She shook her finger at him scoldingly. "If bras weren't so damn expensive I'd throw it away."

"So ungrateful," he teased, finally changing the bra back to its original, bland state. Though, he supposed if she were wearing it and nothing over, it would look far from boring.

She resumed packing and he was certain he saw a smile on her lips. Despite her scolding, he knew she found his antics entertaining.

"But back to the matter at hand," he said as she threw several pairs of socks in the bag, "I could go in disguise. Just to the Tower. I don't have to go to the meetings with you, but wouldn't you rather I be closeby?"

"Of course I would," she stopped packing and sat on the other side of the suitcase, "But maybe it will be good to be apart for a little while too, don't you think?"

He frowned, reaching across the bag and taking her hand.

"You want to be apart?"

"No!" She replied immediately and then bit the corner of her lip, "But I'm still not used to… us. To dating. To being with you. Or anyone for that matter. I think it will be good for me to have a week or two to myself. Besides, I think Thor is going through something. He could probably use someone to talk to."

Loki made a face at that. He had not noticed his brother "going through" anything. Hadn't he been his usual smiling, booming, idiot self? Though, he supposed he had been crying into his breakfast that morning. Loki had just assumed his brother really enjoyed the poptarts and not asked any questions.

"He was crying in the bathroom last week," Jak said when Loki made no comment.

"He has his own room. He could have just cried in his room."

"Loki."

"Fine! I'll see what ails the big oaf," he brushed his thumb over the back of her hand and looked down at the suitcase between them. "You really wish to be parted?"

"Just while I'm figuring out this stuff with the parole board. I really, really like you," she said quietly, "But I am never going back to depending wholly on another person. Not after getting away from Mother."

He had never heard her refer to her mother's death as "getting away". Her words were not hateful, but he could sense the pain in her voice.

"Is there something that I've done that has… reminded you of her?" He asked carefully.

"No! No, not at all," she squeezed his hand and smiled, "You are perfect. I don't really want to be away from you, but I need to make sure that, with all of the excitement lately, I can still be on my own. Having an Asgardian prince and all of the Avengers watching over me might make me get too comfortable. I can't let myself become a damsel in distress, can I?"

"No, certainly not," he smiled and leaned across the suitcase, kissing her forehead, "You are a fervid, ferocious, dangerous supervillain."

"Please add 'reformed' to that list of adjectives," she laughed, rolling her eyes, "I don't think the parole board would like to hear me described as 'dangerous' or as a supervillain. They would probably prefer I be a damsel."

"Well, perhaps the parole board is made up of idiots," he brushed her hair out of her face and let his fingers linger by her ear. "Of course, should you ever wish to be a damsel in distress, I cannot promise to be your heroic knight, but I'll happily slit a few throats in your honor."

"There you go talking about murder again," she pressed her cheek into his hand and closed her eyes for a brief moment before standing up again and resuming packing, "I think maybe the parole board would have a thing or two to say about that as well."

"Well, perhaps I shall slit their throats too."

"Loki!" She gasped, but there was no real shock or horror in her tone. If anything, she seemed amused by the idea. He grinned at her and stood up.

"Why not? Let's kill them all and run away together. We could commandeer a ship and travel the galaxy."

"And where, pray tell, would we get a spaceship that we could travel the galaxy with? I don't think earth has anything that will go farther than Mars."

"Surely Stark could concoct something," Loki dismissed.

"'Oh Mr. Stark, would you mind creating a spaceship so that my supervillain Asgardian prince and I can kill several government officials and then go on the run? Thanks!'" Jak snorted, "Do you think that would go over well?"

"Perhaps not," he stepped behind her and wrapped his hands around her middle, pulling her back to his chest as he spoke into her hair, "But someday we can travel the realms together. Have you ever been out of this solar system?"

"Ha!" She placed her hands over his and relaxed into him. "You make it sound like going to outer space is as common as traveling to another country."

"If you take into account the many, many other species out in the universe, it is probably more common than that," he cast an illusion on the room, making it seem as if the two of them were floating in a sea of stars. Specifically the stars that could be seen from Asgard. "We could see anything you want. We could try any sort of food you can imagine. We could get away from Midgard and go somewhere the Winter Soldier will never be able to lay a finger on you."

He felt her tense. She slipped out of his arms and silently began putting more clothes in her suitcase.

"Apologies," he said, wondering why the mention of the assassin suddenly made her shut down. "I did not mean to -"

"Nothing to be sorry for," she assured with an uneasy smile, "I'm just… I should finish packing."

She didn't ask him to leave, but the request was clear in her body language. Though his instinct was to stay and find out what had caused her sudden change, he supposed he had pushed her enough for one day.

"I will check in with Stark," he said, taking a step toward the door, "Ensure he has everything ready for you."

"Thanks," she nodded, not looking him in the eye. Loki frowned, but said nothing as he left the room.

Rather than go to Stark, he went immediately to Wanda. She would know if something had happened that made Jak more anxious about the Winter Soldier. It was likely that Jak would have told the witch if something was bothering her, but even if she hadn't, Wanda would know anyway. The trick would be convincing Wanda to tell him what she knew.

He knocked on her door and she answered immediately, a tired expression on her face. She had likely felt him coming down the hall with her powers.

"You are projecting frustration so loudly that I am surprised no one else can feel it," she crossed her arms, "What's the matter? And don't try and sugar coat things or I'll just read your mind."

"Has Jaklyn expressed any new concerns about Sergeant Barnes to you?" Loki said. Normally, he would dance around the subject for a few minutes, trying to manipulate her into telling more than she wanted. But he could see that she was not in the mood to be trifled with.

"What happened that would make you ask?" Wanda responded.

"We were having a perfectly normal conversation, but when I mentioned the Winter Soldier, she immediately went cold and wanted me to leave," Loki frowned, picturing the worry in Jak's eyes. What was worse, was that he could have sworn it wasn't worry for her own safety.

"Hmm," Wanda closed her eyes, "She hasn't said anything to me. But her emotions are… conflicted right now."

"About me or about the Winter Soldier?" Loki asked, half joking. What reason would she have to be conflicted about Bucky Barnes?

"Both."

"Both?" Loki's frown deepened. "What is she debating about me?"

"Loki," Wanda opened her eyes and tilted her head, "You are the one dating her. Don't you think you should just ask her?"

She was right and he knew it, but he could not risk offending Jak. Not when she wanted time away from him already. She might have said that her desire to be parted had nothing to do with him, but he couldn't help but feel that she was tired of him. Had he pushed his pranks too far? Had she finally realized that he was someone that most people avoided and she wanted to do the same? He feared she wanted to end their short relationship and that she was running off to the city in order to do so.

"You will not tell me anything else?" He asked Wanda coldly.

She started to shake her head, but stopped and glanced up and down the hall. This was pointless, as she could use her magic to sense anyone nearby, but Loki took the gesture to mean he was meant to lean in closer. Wanda lowered her voice to a whisper.

"I will only say - and don't you dare tell her I said this - that if you find Bucky Barnes, you'd better not kill him or you risk pushing Jak away."

The witch refused to say anything more and she closed her door in his face. Loki stood there for a moment, puzzling out what she could have meant and connecting dots that he hoped were not meant to be connected.

Jak was conflicted about him and the Winter Soldier. And now Wanda was telling him that she did not want to see Barnes killed. He knew, of course, that others in the Compound had a vested interest in keeping the assassin alive. Jak had expressed sympathy for Barnes before. And she'd said she had known him years ago.

Loki began to wonder just how well she knew him. And why she would be feeling conflicted about both the man who was set on killing her and the man she was currently in a tentative relationship with. And why she was so insistent that he not come to Manhattan with her.

"Damn it all," he muttered. He had no answers, but he had suspicions. However, he doubted that Jaklyn would be willing to confirm or deny any of those suspicions.

No matter.

He hurried toward the lobby, hoping she hadn't left without a goodbye. He would not confront her just yet. She obviously was not ready to share. He would give her space, all the space she wanted. But he would make sure that she would miss him while she was away.

Chapter Text

 “I was planning on driving, kid, but the feds called dibs,” Tony Stark told Jak as she wheeled her suitcase into the lobby of the Compound. When the billionaire mentioned the feds, she expected to see Jimmy Woo waiting for her, but instead it was a tall, forgettable looking man standing in the lobby with a pleasant smile.

“I’m Agent Feuer,” he said, “Can I take your bag for you?”

“The FBI doesn’t trust me to get to Manhattan on my own?” She asked, holding tight to her suitcase handle. On her back-and-forth trips for the past week, Mr. Stark, Rhodey, or Happy Hogan had been driving her to the city. It seemed odd that all of a sudden the government wanted to escort her.

“There’s been a change of plans,” the agent said apologetically, “The board wants you to stay at one of our facilities while this whole thing is sorted out.”

“They already approved my stay at Stark Tower,” she protested, looking to Tony for help.

“They’ve got all their paperwork in order,” he shrugged, “I already called your lawyer, but even she says it checks out.”

“Fine,” Jak huffed. She’d already been in a poor mood before she got to the lobby and now the FBI was making it worse. Without asking a second time, the agent took her bag from her and collapsed the handle. He picked it up by the side and carried it to the doors.

“I’ll just put this in the car and then be back in five to collect you,” he nodded at her.

“I have done nothing to violate my probation for the past three years,” Jak said to Tony, trying to keep her voice from whining, “Why do they still treat me like I can’t be trusted?”

“I think they’re trying to cover their asses,” he replied, frowning, “A lot has happened with your case in the past month. You requested a transfer, then there was a kidnapping attempt, then you wanted your powers back, then you started dating an intergalactic warlord, and then there were more kidnapping attempts. And now the thing with the bones is spooking them. They want to be extra careful.”

“I was looking forward to being back at the Tower,” she grumbled, “Now I’m probably going to be stuck in some musty old FBI dorm room.”

“Just remember, they aren’t imprisoning you,” he patted her back, “I’m still coming to the city. We’ll have fun out on the town when they aren’t questioning you.”

“Thanks,” she tried to smile, but she felt like a beach ball that was leaking air. The feeling only worsened when she looked around the lobby and did not see Loki ready to say goodbye. She’d already said her goodbyes to Wanda and Agent Romanoff earlier, so she wasn’t expecting them to send her off. Steve was there and offered her a firm handshake.

“Good luck,” he told her, “I’m sure we’ll be seeing you soon.”

“I hope so,” she tried to smile at him, but it was weak. “Don’t get into too much trouble without me. Who else is going to clean up the messes in this place?”

“We’ll do our best,” he chuckled, “You just focus on the investigation.”

“Alright, are you ready?” The FBI agent appeared again, narrowing his eyes at Steve. This made Jak dislike the agent more than her first impression had. What kind of federal agent looked at Captain America as if they hated him? Even if the super soldier had caused countless problems for the government, he was Captain America . Even people who hated freedom and justice still respected Steve Rogers.

“Um, yeah, I guess,” she looked down the corridor, hoping to see Loki. He wasn’t there. She hadn’t realized that she had offended him so much. It had just been a small thing. She’d had a reflexive reaction to hearing him talk about Bucky. It wasn’t like he knew that she used to have feelings for James Barnes. How could he know that? No one alive knew that except her and maybe Bucky himself if he remembered anything after Hydra and her mother had scrambled his mind. It would be hard to remember one small kiss and a few stolen embraces after seventy years even without the brainwashing… though it was still fresh enough in her mind to muddle her feelings.

“After you,” Agent Feuer gestured to the door and she headed out.

As soon as they stepped outside, Jak felt her feet leave the ground as she was lifted up, firm arms around her. She gasped in surprise, but soon found herself smiling when she saw that it was Loki who had scooped her up.

“I was worried you weren’t going to say goodbye,” she gripped the front of his jacket and stared at him. She was pleased to see that familiar toothy grin on his face, even if there was trouble in his eyes.

“You aren’t getting away that easily,” he told her, leaning in close, pressing his mouth near her ear, “After all, I have to remind you why you need to come back, don’t I?”

Before she could say anything, he was kissing her. His lips were all over her face and just under her jaw in a matter of seconds. If they hadn’t been in public, she suspected his mouth would have moved even lower than her neck, but the agent cleared his throat before things got too exciting. With one last, fierce kiss on the lips that Jak returned, weaving her fingers into his hair, Loki finally set her down. His hands lingered around her waist, holding her close to him and she was reluctant to back away.

“You’ll think of me,” he said, not as a request, but a statement, “You’ll think of me every moment you’re away.”

“Well,” she replied breathlessly, “I should probably spend some time thinking about the parole board too.”

“Then dream of me every night,” he whispered in her ear, his chest rumbling as he spoke.

“ Dream a little dream of me…” she sang softly and then laughed, embarrassed at her own voice, though she’d had several vocal tutors when she was younger. Her mother had thought a young lady ought to know how to sound pretty, but she’d always claimed Jak’s constant warbling was nothing more than an annoyance.

“Don’t spend a moment longer than necessary away from me, elskan mín, ” he told her firmly, studying her face with intensity that made her nervous.

“I’ll be back soon enough,” she nodded and tapped the dampening cuff on her wrist, “Where else will I find a magic teacher?”

“That reminds me,” the agent said loudly, putting a hand on her shoulder and pulling her a step back away from Loki. The Asgardian’s smile turned into a scowl. “Colonel Rhodes holds control over your ability, correct?”

“Yes. Why?” she replied, afraid she knew what was coming next.

“You understand that we must turn the cuff back on while you are staying in our facilities. For the safety of everyone.”

“Pardon?” Loki hissed. “You know there is someone actively threatening her and attempting to kidnap her and you think it is a good idea to take away her best defense?”

“She will be perfectly safe from any ‘kidnapping’ attempts while in our custo-- while in our care,” the agent assured. The sarcasm in his tone made Jak feel less than safe.

“You don’t believe there’s an assassin trying to kidnap me?” She asked, crossing her arms. “Did Mr. Stark not show you the footage? You don’t believe Captain America? Or Thor?”

“How are we to know you didn’t arrange for these little incidents yourself? You could be trying to get away from your probation. Or fake your own death so you can start over again.”

“So sorry,” Loki grabbed Jak’s shoulders and pushed her behind him. He took a step closer to the agent and sneered. “Jaklyn will not be going with you to the city. I cannot trust you with her protection. She will go with Stark as originally planned.”

“Jaklyn, does he often try to control you like this?” The agent asked. He shook his head sadly and smiled at her. “We can get you out of an abusive relationship if you need help. Even from someone as seemingly powerful as him.”

“Watch your tongue, Agent,” Loki seethed, “It might get you killed.”

“Are you threatening a federal agent, sir?” Agent Feuer grinned at him, his hand not-so-subtly going to his hip and the gun holstered there.

“Loki, hey, calm down,” Jak put both her hands on his shoulder and turned him back to face her. “It’s okay. He’s an asshole, but I’ll be fine.”

“You are certain?” Loki asked. He clutched her hand and threw another menacing look over his shoulder.

“Yeah. I’ve met worse federal idiots than him. I’ll be okay. I’ll call you as soon as I get settled in the city, okay?” She attempted a smile and almost managed to make it look genuine.

“Fine,” Loki sighed and gave her one last hug before turning back to the agent. “If I find out anything has happened to her while she is in your care, I will not stop hunting you until your head is on a pike. Understood?”

“From the sounds of things, she’ll probably be safer with me than with you,” Agent Feuer gave Loki one last smile and then roughly grabbed Jak’s bicep, all but dragging her to the SUV parked in the drive. He tossed her in the back seat before she could say another word to Loki and then locked the doors. Jak felt a spike of fear in her gut when the doors locked her in while Agent Feuer went off to find Rhodey and get control of her cuff. He’d left her alone with the driver of the vehicle, who she assumed was another fed.

“Yikes, must be a chore to work with that guy all the time,” she tried to joke.

The driver said nothing and continued to stare ahead.

“That’s okay,” she muttered, “I’m not feeling chatty anyway.”

He grunted.

She absently hummed the rest of “Dream a Little Dream of Me” as she waited.

Five minutes of watching Loki pace back and forth outside the car later, Jak saw Agent Feuer return. He nodded his goodbyes to the handful of Avengers and ignored Loki, who tried to trip him. The bland looking man easily hopped over the foot and opened the car door on the opposite side of Jak. He slid into the back seat next to her and told the driver to go.

A terrible feeling sunk into Jak as she watched the Compound grow distant behind them. She knew she’d be back. She knew she was only going away for a little while. But there was an illogical fear in her that neither of those things was true. The fear only intensified when Agent Feuer entered a code in his phone and she felt the power dampening cuff cut off her magic.

“Better safe than sorry,” he smiled at her. His voice sounded slightly different, almost familiar, but she couldn’t place it.

“Yeah, wouldn’t want me to use my scary magic on you,” she continued to stare out the window, “Even though I have been nothing but cooperative for the last three years.”

“You really ought to get your attitude under control,” Agent Feuer scolded. “How unbecoming.”

“Directions, sir?” The driver asked and Jak felt a chill run down her spine. That voice, she definitely recognized. Every muscle in her body felt like ice, but she still managed to turn her head back to peer at the rearview mirror. Cold blue eyes looked back from under dark brows

“That ought to be obvious, Sergeant Barnes,” Agent Feuer adjusted his suit jacket and leaned back, “We’ll be taking Winnet home.”

She drew a sharp breath and gaped at the man next to her. “You… you’re the one who sent my mother’s bones!”

“Correct,” he grinned at her and opened his mouth to say more, but she was already frantically trying to open the car door. When it wouldn’t budge, she slammed her fist on the window. If she still had her magic she could have shattered it easily, but her bare hand was no match for bullet proof glass. She unbuckled her seat belt and tried to use the metal end to smash the window, but it had little impact.

“Now, now, I thought you would realize that I’m on your side,” Agent Feuer reached over to her and placed his hand on her forehead. She tried to slap him away, but he dug his fingernails into her skin and orange energy built up on his hand, flowing to her head and making her suddenly drowsy. Her eyelids felt heavy and lifting her arms suddenly became a strenuous activity. Slowly, her limbs relaxed and her neck drooped as she blinked a few dozen times, trying to keep her eyes open. Her fingers twitched, but quickly went still as her breathing slowed and the backseat became more and more comfortable.

“I hate having important discussions in vehicles,” the agent said, his voice hardly more than a blurring of sounds. “Once we’re home, I’ll fill you in on all the details. In the meantime, all you need to do is sleep .”

The word instantly affected her. She could no longer focus on anything except how tired she was and how wonderful it would be to take a nap. So she did. Her head would have lolled painfully to the side, but the man had moved closer and allowed her to use his shoulder as a pillow.

“Is she alright?”

“Drive on, Sergeant Barnes,” the man said softly, “We had best get both of you back, before she wakes and before your mind finds itself again.”

“Yes, sir.”

Chapter Text

When Jak sleepily opened her eyes and felt warm sunshine on her face, she saw that she was in a room she did not recognize. The mattress under her was softer than anything she’d slept on in years, even while being housed by a billionaire. The comforter and sheets covering her were warm, but still lighter than a cloud. Her pillow was the perfect amount of firm and the bed frame itself was gilded like something out of Versailles. 

Groggily sitting up, she did her best to remember where she was and how she’d gotten there, but nothing came to mind. She’d slept so well that a complete bliss ran through her veins and she found that she had a hard time focusing. With a sleepy smile, she pulled the blankets back to get out of bed. She was still wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and a worn flannel shirt just like she’d been wearing when… well, she wasn’t sure when, but before she’d fallen asleep, she supposed.

Her heavy work boots were several feet away, sitting next to a finely crafted dresser. The dresser stood next to a wide widow, covered in lace curtains. She rubbed her eyes and shuffled toward the window, pulling back the curtains to see that whatever building she was in was surrounded by acres of trees. This was the first uneasy feeling she had.

When she was ten years old, her mother had taken her out into the woods and left her alone. She told her to use her magic to get home. Jak asked what would happen if she couldn’t do it. Her mother frowned at her and told her that if she could not accomplish such a small task, she was not worth her parents’ time and they would have another child to replace her. It took her three days, but Jak eventually found her way back to the settlement where they lived. Ever since, she avoided forests.

“Where am I?” She muttered, taking a step away from the window. After lacing up her boots, she explored the rest of the large bedroom. There was a fine armchair that looked like it had been taken straight from a Victorian sitting room, and a Turkish rug in a brilliant shade of red with gold details. When she made her way to the door, it reeked of magic and refused to open.

A sharp pain lit up her head when she desperately tried to remember what she’d been doing before she went to sleep. She fell back into the armchair and stared at the ceiling. The lighting fixture was beautiful, but a handful of decades out of date. In the corner of the room, she spotted a camera much like the ones she was used to seeing at Avengers Compound.

Avengers Compound. That’s where she’d been. With the Avengers. With… someone else. Why had she left? How did she get to this locked room in the middle of nowhere? 

Her brain screamed at her to stop thinking about it. The metal cuff on her wrist blinked at her and she remembered that she did not have her magic. But hadn’t she been able to use it recently? Hadn’t she done really well with it?

“Ow!” She hissed, pressing her hands to her eyes. With grit teeth, she realized that someone, a magical someone, did not want her remembering. Enraged by this, she growled and strode back to the door, slamming her fist on it. She continued knocking until the door swung open and revealed a familiar face. Except, she couldn’t place why it was familiar or where she knew the man from.

“Quiet down,” he told her, glancing nervously behind him. Jak looked over his shoulder and saw a narrow hallway, decorated with artifacts most people would have considered antiques. The man gently pushed her back into the room and followed after her, partially closing the door behind him.

“Where am I?” She demanded, “Did you cast a spell on me?”

He scoffed at this and gave her a “are you serious?” look. She stared at his handsome face: his strong jaw, his dark brows and light eyes. His hair hung just below his chin and looked like it hadn’t been washed in a disturbing amount of time. Stubble covered his jaw.

“Listen,” he said softly. His voice was so familiar that it nearly made Jak keel over from the pain in her head trying to remember who he was, “I don’t know who you are or why he wants you, but I know you don’t want to be here.”

“Do you know who you are?” She asked. For some reason, she thought that he might not.

“I-- well, that’s kind of complicated,” he frowned and put a hand on her shoulder. His grip was firm and when she glanced at his hand she saw that it was made out of shiny metal. “I’m figuring it out. But you… you seem familiar.”

“You’re familiar too,” she told him and then winced, “Someone messed with my memories. I can’t think of how I know you.”

“Uh,” he cringed and carefully removed his hand, “I kind of tried to kidnap you a few times. Not because I wanted to! My brain is wired weird right now. The guy who owns this house ordered me to get you.”

“Who owns this house?” She asked, not at all bothered that this man had evidently tried to kidnap her. It eased a bit of the pain in her mind to know that he had. The information clicked into place in her brain as if she already knew that.

“I don’t really know. I heard him answer the phone one time and say ‘this is Fenice’. Not sure if that’s his first or last name.”

“I’m Jak,” she told him, “But if you tried to kidnap me, you probably knew that.”

“I’m… err, Bucky. I guess.”

“Bucky,” she nodded excitedly, “Yes! That’s your name. I know you! I know you, Bucky… I just don’t know how.”

“I think I know you too,” he told her, “Even apart from kidnapping you.”

Despite the aching in her head, she laughed at this. Despite knowing that he had kidnapped her from Avengers Compound, she felt safe with him.

“Can you help me get out of here?” She asked him.

“Not yet,” he told her in a whisper. “I’m still figuring out how to get us both out of here. The only reason I’m not locked in a cell or frozen in a cryo chamber  is because Fenice thinks I’m still under his control. The minute he finds out I’m not he’ll throw me back into a cell.”

“There’s a camera,” Jak nervously nodded her head in that direction. “He can see you if he’s watching.”

“I’m supposed to be guarding you,” he told her, straightening his posture, “He told me not to interact with you unless it seemed like you were upset. You were hitting the door pretty hard. You seemed pretty upset to me.”

She nodded and wrapped her arms around herself. “Alright. Okay. We can work with that. You’ll probably need to step out of the room in a minute or else this Fenice guy will think you’re being a little too chatty.”

“Agreed. But I want you to know I’m on your side. Unless… unless you start hearing him say a string of seemingly random Russian words to me. Then, well, don’t trust me, got it?”

“Random Russian words. Got it.”

“Alright, I’m going to leave you alone now. He said he had a few calls to make and business to attend to, but I’m sure he’ll be talking to you soon.”

“I’ll be ready. Do you think we can jump him?”

Bucky raised a brow at her and the expression reminded her of a different man with long hair. But it felt like her skin was on fire when she tried to remember this other man more.

“I don’t think so,” he said, “It sounds crazy, but he’s got magic. Or something like it. I think you do too, right?”

“I did,” she tapped the cuff, “Not right now.”

“Right. Once you get your magic then maybe we could take him, but we can’t risk it right now. Not while I’m able to think for once. Not while I can be in control of my actions.”

“Okay. Okay, we’ll figure it out. For now, go back in the hallway. I’ll try to remember what I can.”

He nodded and stepped out of the room, closing the door firmly behind him. She dreaded hearing the lock click into place, but at least felt somewhat better knowing she had an ally on the other side of it.

With nothing else to do, she sat in the armchair and prodded at the painful spell attached to her memories. She doubted it would actually kill her to keep at it, even if it felt like an ax was splitting her skull. Whoever had kidnapped her went to too much trouble by putting her in this fancy room and setting Bucky as a guard to want her dead. They wouldn’t risk her killing herself to regain her memories.

An excruciating twenty minutes or so later, her nose was bleeding, her ears were ringing, and she was beginning to doubt that the spellcaster did not want her dead. But, she had managed to remember most of the events that led to her being there. She could remember the box of her mother’s bones and the federal investigation. She remembered Agent Feuer and how the driver of the car was the Winter Soldier. She even remembered, somewhat, that Bucky had attacked her previously, though the details were fuzzy.

What infuriated her was that she could not recall knowing the Avengers. She knew she must have, since she remembered working as a janitor for them for the past three years, but she did not know what her relationship with the super heroes was like. Were they on good terms? Did they dislike her for trying to kill Captain America? She could dredge up a few fond feelings for Steve Rogers, so he must not hold a grudge against her.

Breathing heavily, she finally gave up on getting the memories back. Just for the time being. Her mind couldn’t handle much more probing. If she went too far she feared she would damage her brain. So she closed her eyes and rested her head on the back of the chair, hoping the flashing lights in her eyes would stop and letting the blood from her nose drip down over her lips.

She fell asleep again and didn’t wake until the door to her room banged open. Startling awake, she whipped her head toward the door and first saw the feet and legs of the man who entered. He wore shiny black dress shoes, bright red socks, and golden charms tied to the laces of his shoes. His pants were crisp black slacks that started at an embossed black belt, painted with red designs. A chain from a pocket watch hung over his hip, bearing more small golden chains. 

Then her eyes traveled farther up and saw his almost pure white shirt. The garment was flecked with drops of red that Jak sincerely hoped were a design choice and not fresh blood. From the state of the gloves on his hands, however, she suspected blood was more likely. When her eyes finally found his face, framed by inky hair, she felt herself stop breathing.

“Winnet,” thin lips smiled at her and purple eyes sparked behind wire frames, “I see that, even after a few years apart, you still recognize me, yes?”

She stood up and realized that she was just as tall as he was. For the past seventy some years she’d been envisioning him as a towering figure, snarling down at her. It was odd to be able to look him in the eyes.

No words would come to her. Her throat felt too scratchy even if she had been able to speak. Her heart galloped and her lungs felt sluggish. Hands shaking, she took a step closer and hesitantly reached out toward him.

“A ghost,” she croaked, “You’re dead.”

“I promise I’m as corporeal as you are,” his grin widened, showing her the crooked lower front teeth she recognized. Somehow, rather than taking anything away from his looks, he appeared more roguish because of the crooked teeth.

She shook her head, pressing her hand against his chest and then quickly drawing back when she felt how solid he was. She backed up too far and fell into the chair again, still shaking her head.

“Come now, Winnet dear, surely you know that is not the proper way to greet me. Let’s have a show of manners, hmm? I know your mother instructed you to curtsy when in the presence of your most esteemed father. Go on,” his smile turned into a sneer, “Curtsey, you wicked little wretch.”

Chapter Text

Jak did not curtsey. She could barely gather the energy to stand up again after she fell. Her heart was racing, her ears were ringing, she felt cold and hot at the same time. Though she didn’t remember what the last meal she ate was, she could feel it threatening to come up again.

“How?” She rasped.

“How to curtsey? You can’t expect me to know, daughter, I’ve never done it before. A bow will suffice if you truly cannot remember,” he glared at her, as if he were the one who had reason to be angry with her . As if he were the one who’d been abused for his whole life, forced to move around, punished for the smallest acts of rebellion, and then thrown into chaos when she faked her death, rather than the other way around.

“How are you alive?” She managed. When she was a child, he prided himself on being a patient man, but such patience never extended to his daughter or her mother. Still, she would not bow to him, not after so long. Not when she could hardly believe he was alive.

“You thought the so-called super soldier had truly defeated your powerful father?” He scoffed, “I am disappointed you have such little faith in me.”

“Where have you been for the last seventy years?!”

“I’ve been doing what I always do. Surviving. Moving from place to place. Gathering my assets,” he took a step closer to her and snatched her chin, tilting her face to examine her, “Now that I have you back, we’ll begin the real work.”

“What do you mean?” She pulled away from him and studied his face. He had not aged since she’d seen him die in 1944, if anything, he almost looked younger. She remembered him as looking like a man in his late forties, always old enough to be her father. Now, he looked a decade younger.

“Come on now, Winnet, your mother always assured me that you were a bright girl,” he crossed his arms. When she had no response for that, he simply rolled his eyes. “I suppose you are in shock. It is understandable that you cannot think at full capacity right now. You are probably hungry as well, yes?”

Jak opened her mouth but didn’t say anything.

“We will have brunch together and if you behave yourself, I will fill you in on the details of the past seven decades,” he looked at her clothes, “But no daughter of mine will wear farmer’s clothes to the table. Put on something more suitable before coming downstairs. My soldier will show you the way down once you are ready. Winter Soldier, escort my daughter to the dining room once she is adequately clothed.”

“Yes, sir,” Bucky said from the doorway.

“Winnet, take no longer than ten minutes. The eggs will get cold otherwise. You know how I feel about cold food. And tardiness.”

He left. Jak fell back into the chair and blinked a few times. Bucky waited until her father was out of earshot and then stepped into the room. He crouched down in front of her chair and looked up at her with concern.

“You okay?”

“No,” she whispered, “Not even a little bit.”

“So… he’s your dad?”

She nodded.

“Doesn’t seem like the type to play catch on the weekends or help you learn to tie your shoes,” Bucky remarked, “Has he always been so harsh with you?”

“He’s supposed to be dead,” she whispered frantically, leaning forward and gripping the armrest. “Steve Rogers incinerated him in 1944! I watched him turn to ash! I cried for days about it. My mother was distraught. But I never wanted him back. Even when I watched him burn, deep down I was happy to see him go.”

“Well, he’s alive. I can confirm he’s not a ghost. Or if he is, he’s a really solid one.”

Jak nodded and then looked down at herself. “What am I supposed to change into? I don’t have access to magic to change my clothes. I need to get dressed and get downstairs. If the food is cold…”

On the occasions that Jak and her mother would serve her father food-- when he wasn’t eating dinner at an important colleague’s home or off in another country-- her mother always said “if the food is cold then you’ll be colder”. Her father only complained of cold food once, but that was enough. Jak had been made to sleep outside that night, in the winter, with nothing but a few blankets and a doorstep.

“Let’s check the dresser,” Bucky got up and quickly walked to the heavy piece of furniture. He opened the drawers and, sure enough, there were plenty of clothes inside. Jak jumped to her feet, old fear of being punished for disobedience setting in like an unwelcome, but familiar acquaintance. It was easy to fall back into the terrified urgency of trying to keep her parents happy.

She quickly assessed the clothes in the dresser. Several clean blouses of varying shades sat in the top drawer and neatly folded knee length or longer skirts sat in the bottom drawer. All of them were about sixty years out of style, as were the underthings in the middle drawer, but she did not hesitate to pick out something appropriate for brunch with her father. With Bucky standing by the door, she pulled on frustratingly scratchy stockings, a pleated blue skirt, and a white button up blouse with a rounded collar.

“My hair,” she muttered, catching a glimpse of herself in the silver-backed mirror on top of the dresser, “Shit. Is there a hairbrush in here?”

“I didn’t see one,” Bucky stepped back into the room and helped her look around. They didn’t find anything to help tame her hair so she combed through it with her fingers to the best of her ability and then tied it off with a hair tie from her wrist. It did not look as presentable as she would have liked, but there was too little time to do anything else. 

In the past, she would have scrubbed her face and hands before daring to appear before her father, but there was no bathroom or washbasin that she could see and there wasn’t enough time. There also were no shoes to match the clothes, which left her with the option of stocking feet or her work boots. She decided on the boots, despite her personal preference of no shoes inside a home, because she knew her father would find stocking feet childish.

“You look fine. It’s been about seven minutes. Let’s get you downstairs,” Bucky gently pushed her shoulders toward the bedroom door. Jak let him direct her the whole way. All she could think to do was set one foot in front of the other as he led her to a fine dining room and pulled a chair back for her. She managed to remember not to sit, as her father was not yet in the room. Her mother had made her stand for hours by the table once, while they waited for him to get home for dinner. He arrived late that night, smelling of some woman’s sickly sweet perfume, claiming to have already eaten.

Thankfully, Jak only had to wait a moment before he stepped into the dining room. He immediately appraised her appearance. His eyes lingered on her shoes, but he did not comment. Instead, he sat down and began to serve himself from the many platters of breakfast food at the table. Once his plate was full, Jak carefully scooped what was left onto her own plate, being sure not to take too much in case he wanted seconds. She was hungry, but knew better than to start eating until he had. And this, he put off with conversation.

“You look like a kicked dog,” he remarked, “You’re practically trembling.”

She folded her hands in her lap and wondered how she could fix this problem without breaking from the meek demeanor she’d always worn in her father’s presence. No answer came to mind, so she continued to stare down at her hands.

Her father sighed heavily and picked up his fork. He pointed it at her. “I suppose you are still in shock. Would it help if I explained a few things to you?”

“I still don’t understand how you are alive,” she said, looking up at him. She was never supposed to look him in the eye unless he told her to, but she had to stare. She had to see that he was really standing before her.

“I will explain the intricacies of that in due time,” he told her, “But suffice to say, I survived Captain Roger’s attempt to end me. I was, of course, severely wounded and many had given me up for dead. You and your mother included.”

“I watched you burn away to nothing!” She exclaimed. “I saw your flesh sizzling on your body! I saw your bones blacken and crumble!”

“That sort of talk is not appropriate for the breakfast table,” he scolded, “We will leave that discussion for later. After Captain Roger’s left me, I knew that returning to Hydra would be futile.”

Jak saw Bucky flinch at “Hydra” out of the corner of her eye.

“Johan Schmidt was doomed the moment he made himself a target of the SSR. And then he was stupid enough to accidentally take this one,” her father pointed to Bucky, “as a prisoner of war. He could have easily found out about his friendship with Captain Roger’s and then either thrown him into the wilderness or killed him and been done with it. But Roger’s had hope that Sergeant Barnes was still alive and it all fell apart from there.”

“Hydra survived though,” Jak said, trying to keep any argument out of her voice. “They continued on for years.”

“And would have won over the world if, again, Barnes hadn’t gotten in the way.”

Bucky’s face was as unmoving as glass. His eyes stared ahead blankly.

“But, of course Secretary Pierce sent Steve Roger’s best friend right into his arms and now Hydra has fallen a second time,” her father shook his head, “Honestly.”

“So you did not return to Hydra,” Jak tried to keep the story on track, recognizing that her father might be about to go on a tangent about how impatient mortals could be. About how “today’s men” were constantly running head first into idiotic ideas. She’d watched her mother skillfully cut off such tyraids for years by steering her father back to the original topic. “Where did you go?”

“When the war ended the Americans were drunk off their victory and self righteousness. It was not difficult to pretend to be a refugee and get out of Europe. Since you’ve seen me last, I’ve been building myself back up. I run several companies, am in the ears of politicians across the globe, and out here, in these woods, I can hone my magical abilities. I am more powerful than I ever have been.”

Jak supposed she was supposed to express awe or congratulations at this, but she was too terrified to do so. Her father had always been involved with the great powerhouses of the world, but in the modern age, with technology and years of experience at his disposal, he was most likely untouchable for any authorities who might suspect him of anything illegal.

“And you,” he finally took his first bite of food and Jak quickly followed suit. Once he chewed and swallowed he pointed his fork at her again. “You have been scrubbing toilets for the very man who sought to destroy me. I am greatly disappointed in you, Winnet.”

“Mother and I… we were left alone. We had no money and no purpose for years,” Jak said, treading carefully. She could not blame him for her shortcomings. “When the opportunity presented itself, we tried to get revenge for what was done to you, but the Avengers killed--”

“Not just the Avengers, though, right?” He jabbed his fork into the table and it stuck. Jak flinched as he intended. “I heard a rumor that my own dear daughter struck a deal with those Avengers. Those trifling, brightly clad idiots made a bargain with you, did they not?”

“Father, I had no choice--”

“Then you weren’t looking hard enough. You weren’t thinking or strategizing like you were taught to do. You gave in so easily to their seductions and killed your own mother.”

She took a deep breath and remembered that day. How she had broken free of her mother’s control for just long enough to realize her miserable life would never change, not for all of eternity. She would be stuck as a mindless puppet until the end of time unless she agreed to help Steve Rogers make her an orphan. It had been the most painful thing she’d ever done, but it had been the best choice she ever made. She did not regret it, even in the face of her father’s rebuke.

“I did,” she replied, gripping her fork tightly and straightening her posture, “I burst her heart inside her chest and collapsed her lungs.”

“I loved your mother,” he replied darkly, “For many years, she was the only woman I loved. I had tried for centuries to produce offspring and only a handful of human women were ever able to bear me a child. And none of the beautiful wretches before your mother had given me a child who also inherited my power.”

Jak knew that, in the countless years her father had lived, she could not have been his only child. Yet, she’d never heard it confirmed. Neither of her parents ever mentioned that she had half siblings lost to time. Had they been as long lived as she? Were any still out there? Or had their mothers left them in the woods and they had not found their way back?

“I loved my mother too,” she replied to her father, “She was all I had in this world and I killed her. I miss her, but I will not apologize for what I did.”

“Good,” he said.

“What?”

He shoveled food in his mouth and chewed it, smiling at her startled expression.

“I loved her, but she became a bit of a nag as time wore on. She seemed to think that, because I loved her, I had to be faithful to her,” he laughed, “She begged me time and again to pay her more attention, to spend more time with you, to play house. But I have never been the sort of domestic man she wanted and I grew tired of her asking. Besides, I suspected she was close to using her magical manipulations on me to influence me. I could not have that.”

Jak stared at him. The words coming out of his mouth made sense, but she had never expected to hear them. Her mother only ever sang his praises. He had never been as kind to her, but he’d never described her like this.

“I’m glad you killed that whining, conniving bitch,” he frowned, “But you did not use my gift. You know I am not one to give presents frivolously, Winnet.”

He was talking about the box of bones. She had nearly forgotten. The memory of the box still pricked pain in her mind, but now that he mentioned it, she remembered opening it and finding that grinning skull. Her mother. Dead only three years.

“No matter, we shall use her bones together,” he told her, “Once I can trust that you will use your magic responsibly. Right now, I fear you may lash out with it. I’ll give you time to get used to me again and then we’ll grow your strength. We’ll make you nearly as powerful as I am and you shall be my right hand. As you were always meant to be.”

“I will not desecrate her remains,” Jak replied.

“It’s hardly desecration,” he rolled his eyes, “But that is not important right now.”

He would not say what was important right then or what she would be his right hand for, instead finishing his breakfast in silence. Jak did the same, though her appetite had decreased after their conversation. Once they were done eating, he stood and gestured for her to follow him into a fine parlor in the house. He sat in a wingback chair that almost looked like a throne and pointed at the footstool in front of him. She knew he wanted her to sit on it, to be lower than him and have to look up at him. In years gone by, she would have. After all, it was not her place to be on equal footing with him, not back then. Not twenty minutes previous either.

But now, with the shock wearing off, and the reminder that she had already killed one of her parents to gain relative freedom, she did not wish to sit like a small child at his feet. And a small, unimportant voice, said that she did not want Bucky to see her groveling. For those reasons, she sat on the musty smelling sofa across from her father. He narrowed his eyes, but did not reprimand her.

“I’m sure you are overwhelmed with everything you have learned today,” he said, “I will not ask much more of you before you return to your room until dinner. But one thing we must discuss is your name.”

“My name?”

“We must give you a new one if you are to work with me from here on out.”

“Why can’t I be Jaklyn Baker?” She asked. It was not her favorite name, but she was used to it. She’d used it for fifteen years. It was the name that… someone called her. She couldn’t remember who and trying to remember brought pain to her head that doubled her over.

“Ah, trying to probe your mind for things you no longer need to remember, are you?” Her father tsked, “It would be better to leave those things alone. They are not relevant to the life you will now lead.”

“I want my memories back,” she managed to say as pain rocketed down the back of her neck and stabbed each vertebrae. “Please, Father.”

“I have blocked them for a reason. Do not question me or you will invite more pain.”

“Gah!” She clenched her fists and gave up reaching for the memory of a man who called her Jak. She had managed to pry one small detail away though. Whoever he was, he not only called her Jak, he called her a pet name. Elskan mín . And somehow, she knew that it meant my love.

“Now, what names have you gone by in the past seventy years? We can have no repeats. There must not be any connection to you.”

“Why can’t I stay as Jaklyn?” She asked again.

“Jaklyn Baker is the Avenger’s cleaning lady,” he scoffed, “And very soon, Jaklyn Baker will be one of the many young women in America who disappear and are never seen again. The government thinks Tony Stark was bringing you to Manhattan. Tony Stark thinks the government has you in their custody. It will be some time before they realize you have vanished and that there is no trace of you and no real records of Agent Feuer.”

“They’ll try to find me,” she warned him.

“ Try being the key word. They will not find you. And soon they will forget about that odd little pink haired janitor who they used to know. Perhaps someday, they’ll stumble across your missing poster and feel a twinge of sadness, but they will have other, more important things to worry about. And so Jaklyn Baker will be left behind and you shall rise as someone new.”

“I don’t want to be someone new,” she crossed her arms.

“Do not be petulant. You will do as I say.”

“No.”

He gaped at her, as shocked as she was for a moment. Jak saw Bucky tense in the corner of the room, watching her father warily.

“Your stubbornness has never gotten you anywhere,” he reminded her, “I suppose you recall the last time you told me ‘no’?”

She did not, but slowly the memory came to her. He had betrothed her to an ancient old man with an extensive shipping network and wealth beyond imagining. She had refused to wed the liver spotted, blad, wrinkly man, calling him “odious” to his face. The shipping magnate had slapped her, torn up the marriage contract, and moved on to an even younger, even less willing bride. Jak’s father had beaten her for an hour and instructed her mother to lock her in the cellar to hide her bruises until they healed naturally. Jak disobeyed him again by using magic to heal herself and he replaced every bruise she erased by beating her a second time and tossing her back in the cellar. From then on, her parents had decided that her mother would keep careful control over Jak’s behavior by any means necessary. Magic included.

“I assure you, darling daughter, my temper has not changed since then. When was that? 1890 something?”

“1901,” Jak replied, “We were in London. Queen Victoria had just died.”

“Oh yes, what a wonderful time for the world to get that hag out of the driver’s seat of the British Empire.”

“The British Empire didn’t last much longer after she was gone,” Jak reminded.

“Probably because she ruined it,” her father waved the matter away, “That is besides the point. Choose a new name or you won’t have any supper.”

“No.”

He scowled at her and took a pen from his pocket. Orange magic flared around the pen and it grew into a sturdy cane.

“Choose a new name, Winnet, and I will spare you the rod.”

“I am not a child,” she said, standing up. He lazily flicked his wrist and magic enveloped her, bringing her to her knees and lifting the backs of her hands up. No matter how she tried to wriggle away, the magic held firm and she was forced to stay still as he hit the backs of her hands with his cane. She winced, but did not cry out.

“I had hoped this would be a happy reunion, but you’ve ruined it,” he clucked pityingly, “Now I’m going to break the bones in your hand to remind you that you will always listen to your father. I’ll heal it tomorrow, of course, but I’m sure it will hurt in the meantime. Unless you’ve changed your mind?”

It was not worth breaking her bones and Jak knew that. But if she backed down now, she would find herself living in fear of him until one of them really did die. And that would be far longer than she wanted to wait to be free again.

“I have not.”

“I’m starting to think your mother was lying when she said you were a bright girl,” he raised the cane again and began to bring it down, but a hand shot out and caught it, wrenching it away from her father.

Bucky held the cane between himself and Jak’s father like he was a knight and the ancient man in front of him was a dragon. But he did not keep the cane for long, snapping it in two with his metal hand.

“I suspected you might be in your own mind again,” her father raised his hands, magic twirling around his fingers. “No matter. I’m tired of looking at you anyway. You’ll go back into your cage and later we’ll reset you.”

Bucky dodged the magic well and leapt forward, putting his metal hand around the other man’s neck. All he had to do was squeeze to break his neck as easily as he’d broken the cane. It seemed like he was about to, but Jak’s father managed to place a hand on Bucky’s forehead and use magic to knock him unconscious. The soldier fell to the ground.

“Right. That’s quite enough excitement for one morning. Winnet, since you refuse to select a name, you shall be… Jessica Fenice. I am Uriah Fenice. I’ll have the paperwork drawn up.”

“I don’t want to be Jessica Fenice. I want to be Jak Baker,” she said through grit teeth.

“Jak? Is that what people have been calling you?” he shook his head, “Absolutely not, Jessica. Now go to your room or I’ll block off more memories. You are lucky I am not making you forget that you were ‘Jaklyn Baker’ all together.”

His magic released her and she shakily made her way back to the room she’d woken up in. Once inside, she left the door open, but a blast of orange magic closed and locked it. She sat down on the edge of the bed and anxiously wondered what would become of Bucky. He was her one chance to get away from her father and he had just ruined that chance by coming to her rescue. And now he was out cold on the floor and probably going to end up in a cell.

A voice in her mind whispered that it was all her fault. That she should have just listened to her father and been a good daughter. Surely life would always be easier if she was a good daughter. This voice sounded an awful lot like her mother.

But another voice, the most beautiful man’s voice she’d ever heard, applauded her for her stubbornness and defiance. This voice encouraged her to keep fighting and find a way out. This voice called her elskan mín with tenderness that nearly made her scream for wanting to remember him so badly.

Chapter Text

“Where is Bucky?” Jak asked her father when he opened her bedroom door the next morning. She had crumpled up the clothes she’d worn to breakfast the day before and put on her shirt and jeans instead. Her hair was tucked in a messy ponytail and she didn’t make any attempt to smile or bow when he entered the room. The night before, she had made a mess of her room by throwing clothes on the floor and knocking over furniture. She knew it was childish, but she figured that she was owed a childhood after hers had been filled with the misery of her parents.

“Sergeant Barnes is none of your concern, Jessica.”

“My name is Jak.”

“If you are not careful, I will erase every memory from your mind and start with a blank slate. It would be a great inconvenience, but I will not put up with your tantrums.”

She clenched her jaw and glared at him. After some time alone to think, she decided that she had liked spending three years as an orphan. As soon as she found a way, she was going to make herself an orphan again.

“Your nose is bleeding,” Uriah Fenice told her, “I suppose you stayed up all night trying to remember the things I’ve blocked off. I am your father, I know what is best for you and blocked off those memories for your own good.”

“For your own good,” she snapped, “You think if I can’t remember what I lost then I won’t want to go back to it.”

“There is nothing at Avenger’s Compound worth returning to,” he told her, observing the damage to her room, “Other parents always complained about their toddlers, but you were a quiet baby. I suppose now you are going through your ‘terrible two-hundreds’, hmm?”

“Did you hurt Bucky?”

“It is improper for you to refer to him by that name. He is Sergeant Barnes or the Winter Soldier,” her father stepped over the pile of clothes and picked up a pillow she’d tossed on the floor. He rolled his eyes and threw it back on the bed. “Clean up your room. If you do not have everything back in its place by noon you will not have lunch. Understood?”

“You didn’t give me lunch or dinner yesterday either,” she crossed her arms and raised a brow, “Will you starve me if I don’t do what you say?”

“No. If you still haven’t cleaned up your mess by dinnertime, then I’ll take your memories. Do you understand me?”

“Yes sir,” she mockingly saluted him and began picking up the things she’d thrown on the floor. She would obey him enough to keep herself safe, but she would not do it with the meekness she had practiced all her life.

“You are such a disappointment,” Uriah sighed, sitting in the armchair and watching her as she picked up articles of clothing and neatly folded them. “What happened to my sweet daughter who treated me like a deity? You used to worship your dear old father.”

The word “deity” snagged a sharp pain in her mind. She had known someone else recently who often referred to himself as a god. More blood leaked from her nose as she tried to remember who it was. All she could gather was that he was the one who called her “ elskan mín” . This surprised her enough to stop fighting the magical mind block.

She had never thought she could love anyone who thought of himself as a god. That sort of cockiness had never been attractive to her. Or had it?

“You’re dripping blood on the carpet,” her father called from his seat.

“Why are you still here?” She retorted, wiping her nose on a white blouse she’d just folded and soiling the front of it with red. “Surely your plans for world domination take up enough of your time that you shouldn’t be wasting minutes watching me.”

“I missed you,” he replied simply, “My fatherly instincts are strong. I am glad to see you safe after so long apart.”

“You have the fatherly instincts of a grizzly bear,” she scoffed.

“Oh come now, I’ve only ever eaten one child.”

She dropped the armload of clothing and gaped at him. 

“I’m kidding,” he smirked, smoothing his fine shirt, “It’s what we call a ‘dad joke’.”

She resumed cleaning, but said nothing else on the subject of grizzly bears or fatherhood. The scary thing was that he’d been alive so long, she wouldn’t have put it past him to have eaten a child. She could picture some ancient civilization offering him a human sacrifice and him politely dabbing his lips with a napkin and saying “well, it would be rude to refuse”.

“You kept asking about the Winter Soldier,” he said after she had put all of the dresser drawers back to their proper place, “I know he’s pleasant to look at, but please remember that he is not a viable match for you.”

“No, I suppose he’s not wrinkled enough and he’s never pinched my ass at a formal dinner. So he’s not the kind of person you would choose for me, is he?” She moved on to pick up the pieces of a lamp she’d shattered.

“Your mother raised you better than to speak with such vulgarity.”

“What? You don’t like hearing the truth of the men you chose for me?” She gripped a sliver of glass, focusing on the pain of it cutting into her skin so she wouldn’t spiral into a rage. “The shipping magnate couldn’t keep his hands off my ass and I know Mother noticed but she never stopped him. Another charming old man you picked ‘accidentally’ dropped a piece of dried fruit down the front of my dress and tried to fish it out. That Austrian prince couldn’t keep his hands from roaming when we danced together.”

“And you tolerated all of their inappropriate behavior because you knew it was for the greater good. You knew that you were securing alliances for me,” her father had the decency to look at least slightly uncomfortable as she told him of the various assaults she’d suffered through the years.

“And still none of those alliances ever went through, did they? They always either turned me away or you decided they weren’t worth enough to you,” she gripped the glass even tighter and it cracked, leaving two large shards embedded in her palm. “You played with my emotions, manipulated me, made me think I was never going to be married at a time when a woman’s worth was determined by if she were marriageable.”

“If you were so eager to get married--”

“I was only eager because you and Mother told me I had to be!” She yelled at him.

He stood up and then saw her bloody hand. With a frustrated sigh, he crossed the room to her and pried her palm open. With a flick of his wrist the glass was out and the cuts healed themselves. He gave her palm a soft pat and took a step back to look at her.

“Fine. I will admit that I never allowed for any of your matches to follow through,” he pinched the bridge of his nose.

She thought for a moment he would express actual fatherly love and tell her that he saw the way those vile men treated her and realized they were not worthy of his daughter. But she should have known that her father would never care that much for her personal well being.

“I kept putting off your marriage because I knew I could secure a more powerful husband for you. You are one of my greatest tools, Winn-- Jessica. An heir that I can marry into a powerful family and a magic user as well. I could not hand you over to just any prince.”

The word “prince” drew another sharp pain in her head.

“I don’t care,” she told Uriah, “My point is that you have mistreated me my whole life. And now you expect me to go along with whatever machinations you have willingly?”

“Mistreated, hmm?” He frowned, “I think your time with the Avengers has corrupted your mind, daughter. You used to be so well behaved.”

She did not respond. It was pointless to try and get him to acknowledge his faults. He considered himself the most important person in all the galaxy and he would not be corrected. So, instead she finished cleaning her room and then came downstairs to eat breakfast with him. With every bite she glared at him, but he seemed content that she was no longer arguing and ignored her hatred. He rambled on about various businessmen and politicians he’d been involved with in recent decades and even ventured to say that he knew a few powerful men who might make a good husband for her.

After everything they’d just talked about, the only thing Uriah had gotten from the conversation was that, at one point, she had been eager to be married. And now he was plotting matches again. All Jak could think about was Bucky, trapped somewhere in the house, probably in pain.

.

.

In the cellar of the house, Bucky was, indeed, hurting. Uriah Fenice had used magic to torture him. He was surprised that he hadn’t put him back under mind control, instead leaving him weary and worn behind bars, his metal arm just out of reach. 

Bucky Barnes did not have all of his memories back. In fact, he really only had a few. He knew Steve Rogers was important to him and that he had not always been a killing machine. He knew that he was from Brooklyn, because for some reason his mind had decided that was important information to keep. He knew he’d fallen in a cold, snowy place and that someone evil had found him.

There wasn’t much else from the past seventy years or before that he could remember, but when he’d seen Uriah Fenice about to hit Jaklyn Baker with a cane, another memory surged to the surface. He remembered that very same woman smiling at him somewhere in Siberia. As Uriah had threatened to hurt her, Bucky remembered her sneaking him bread and holding his hand when scientists messed with his mind and filled him with drugs. And when that woman’s father had lifted the cane to hit her again, a crystal clear memory came to Bucky. He remembered her lips gently kissing his before they completely scrubbed his mind and she disappeared. 

He might not recall the circumstances entirely, but he remembered his feelings and he knew he would protect her as best he could. Somehow, they had to get away from Uriah Fenice. Partially because it would be better for both of them, and partly because Bucky dearly wanted to see if she remembered kissing him as vividly as he remembered kissing her back.

Chapter Text

“Stark,” Tony Stark said, answering his phone. Loki heard tension in the billionaire’s voice. Good. They should all be tense. This was not a social call to chit chat and catch up.

“I take it you’ve also deduced that something is wrong with Jak?” Loki asked.

“The FBI is claiming that they don’t have her,” Stark responded, “I’m trying to figure out if they’re lying to keep her away from us, or if she never made it to the city.”

“If they are holding her, they took her phone,” Loki told him, “This is the second morning she’s been gone and she has not called me. One morning I could understand, perhaps she is busy dealing with agents. But she would have at least texted me back by now.”

“I’ll track her phone.”

“Find her, Stark, or I will forget all vows I made to Odin about my reformation. Heads will roll. I don’t care if I have to burn down your whole government,” Loki hung up and looked around the room. Thor raised a brow at him, but did not ask questions or caution patience.

Rogers had his arms crossed and raised a brow at Loki, signaling him to relay the conversation.

“Stark says the FBI claims she is not there. He will track her phone and see if he can find her that way.”

“I am not opposed to raiding a federal building,” Wanda said from where she sat in the corner. A lamp floated next to her and the lightbulb shattered when she flicked her wrist. “How long will we give Tony before we try to find her ourselves?”

“Three hours,” Rogers decided. “That’s more than enough time to track her phone. He’ll let us know where it is, we’ll go to that location, and we’ll see what we can find from there.”

“That agent,” Loki seethed, “Agent Feuer. I knew there was something of a lie about him. We should have never let her go with him.”

“We should have escorted her ourselves,” Thor finally spoke up. “I should have flown above the vehicle to ensure it made it to the correct destination.”

Loki was surprised to hear the genuine regret and frustration in his brother’s voice. Thor liked Jak, but hardly interacted with her most of the time. He’d made more of an effort since Loki had started dating her, but still, it was a bit of a shock to hear that Thor cared so much about her safety. Loki didn’t let his surprise show, instead nodding silently when his brother looked at him.

“Janitor or no,” Thor said, “She is one of us. She was under our protection and we failed her. Do not worry, Loki, it will not be long before we locate her.”

They dispersed, planning on coming together in three hours, or whenever Stark called next. Wanda said that she would try to locate Jak’s mind from a distance. Steve was going to call up any of his former SHIELD friends who had gone to the FBI after the fall of SHIELD. Thor and Loki walked off together, in the direction of Jak’s room, to see if they could find anything there.

“We will find her, brother,” Thor said, patting Loki’s shoulder as they walked down the corridor, “And if we cannot, then I will go to Asgard and see what Heimdall knows.”

“I’d rather no one in Asgard learn of my relationship with Jaklyn,” Loki said tensely. He did not want Odin to ridicule him or take him away from Midgard as a punishment. 

“Father might be glad to know that you have found someone-- ”

“Or he might use her against me,” Loki interrupted, “Honestly, Thor, he barely tolerates Jane. Do you think he will have any more kindness for Jak?”

“He barely tolerates Jane because she is mortal,” Thor said quietly, “Father… does not want me to love someone who he expects to die soon. Jaklyn could live as long as we do. You never know, Father may like her.”

“I doubt he would care,” Loki replied bitterly, “He would see her past of villainy and detest her at once. You know it to be true.”

They both fell silent for a moment.

“I will not tell him you are seeing her,” Thor assured, his voice soft, “But I hope you will do so in your own time. Father may not deserve to be part of your life, but he does still love you.”

Loki scowled and made no response, though a dozen snarky ones bubbled to his mind. Rather than insult the man he’d once called father, he instead opened the door to Jak’s room and began looking around. Thor joined him, but there was nothing to be found. 

She kept her space neat and tidy. The majority of her personal belongings were clothing and had gone with her in her suitcase. Everything else was, for the most part, bland and looked to be standard issue prison items. Or, the luxury Stark version of standard issue prison items. 

The blanket on her bed, however, was still the green one that Loki had made for her out of his coat. He’d seen it in the room before she’d gone missing, but seeing it in this space without her around made him notice it more. The whole room lacked personality, but she kept using the gift he’d given her.

“Perhaps we should check her laptop?” Thor suggested, picking up the small silver device. “I’m surprised she didn’t take it with her.”

“She may have forgotten to pack it,” Loki remarked, taking the computer and opening it to the lock screen, “I was… distracting her while she was packing.”

“I don’t want to know the details,” Thor declared immediately. Loki could have assured him that nothing had really happened, or that the real reason she might have forgotten was because Loki had brought up the Winter Soldier and made her nervous. He still felt confusion and anger when thinking of what Wanda had told him. And he’d never gotten Jak to clear it up, so he was left to his imagination about just how close she and Bucky Barnes had been when they’d met before.

“I wonder what her password might be,” Loki considered the device in front of him. If they wanted to learn anything from it, they would probably have to give it over to Stark. Or, perhaps Natasha Romanoff.

“It’s a longshot that there might be anything helpful on there anyway,” Thor shrugged and looked under the bed for more clues. “It would only help if she left of her own volition, which we know she did not.”

That sentence threw a punch into Loki’s gut as he remembered the conversation he and Jak had before she left. She did say she wanted some time to herself. Perhaps she had run off. Maybe she’d grown tired of the FBI’s mistreatment and decided to start over somewhere else. Or maybe Agent Feuer had succeeded in convincing her that Loki was showing signs of an abusive partner. And now the FBI was pretending they’d lost her so that they could hide her away under a new name, with a new identity.

“What if she did leave on purpose?” Loki asked, sitting in her chair and setting her laptop on the desk.

“Why would she?” Thor popped out from under the bed and looked at Loki in confusion.

“She came to her senses,” Loki shrugged, “Finally saw me as the monster that everyone else does and fled.”

“No,” Thor said immediately. He stood up and put his hands on his hips. “Do not weave a falsehood to convince yourself of this nonsense, Loki!”

“It makes sense!” Loki argued.

“It does not!” Thor took a step closer and poked Loki in the chest, “Sometimes you act as if no one could ever love you and you need to stop it. If I can love you after you’ve literally stabbed me in the back dozens of times, then how much more could Jaklyn love you when you have taken such care with your relationship?”

Loki opened his mouth to protest, but Thor shot him a glare. He smiled wryly and started to say something about how Thor was simplifying the situation, but he couldn’t finish the statement before his brother pulled him into a hug. Then he couldn’t have finished his sentence if he’d wanted to, for all of his breath was squeezed from his lungs.

“You have done monstrous things, but you are not a monster,” Thor told him sternly before letting him go and looking him in the eye, “Whoever took Jaklyn is a monster and we’ll make sure they get what they deserve.”

“And what if we find Jak and she tells us that she wants nothing to do with me?” Loki challenged. “What then?”

“Then we do as the Midgardians do,” Thor patted his shoulder, “Buy a gallon or two of ice cream, watch a sad movie, discuss how you could do so much better than her anyway, and then move on, yes?”

Loki couldn’t help but laugh at the image Thor conjured in his mind. He wasn’t sure that he agreed that he could do much better than Jaklyn, or that anyone else in the nine realms would ever be romantically interested in him again. But Thor was right. He was a prince of Asgard. He had dignity to uphold. If they found Jak to be safe and wishing to be away from him, then he would let her go. Even if it hurt and he wanted to hold on. Besides, he hardly knew Jak. He wasn’t madly in love with her or anything. Just concerned. And protective. But it wasn’t like he was obsessed with her.

Loki’s phone rang and he nearly fell over with the speed at which he fumbled with it to answer it. It was Stark.

“What did you find?” He demanded immediately.

“Her phone didn’t make it far from the Compound,” Stark said, frustration in his voice, “It’s in town. Looks like probably on a curb or sidewalk. I already contacted Vision to go find it and see if he can get any other data from it.”

“What other clues do we have?” Loki asked. He wanted to set out to find her immediately, but he didn’t know where to start looking. “I could disguise myself as Jimmy Woo and go investigate the FBI dorm she was meant to be taken to, perhaps they are hiding her there.”

“Whoa there, Reindeer Games, let’s not jump straight to breaking the law,” Stark said, “Jaklyn’s lawyer is working on the FBI to see if they have her. Let’s work off the assumption that they’re telling the truth for now and that we need to find her elsewhere.”

“Let us assume the Winter Soldier succeeded in his mission,” Loki said, pacing the small room with Thor watching his every step. “What measures have you taken to locate him ?”

“Steve wants us to keep it a secret from most of the world that Bucky is still alive, so we don’t have much to go off, but one of my people has a possible sighting near the border.”

“Mexico?” Thor asked.

“Canada,” Loki corrected, “We’re in New York, Thor.”

“Right.”

“I have someone on it already, and Sam is flying out to help. I’ve got Friday monitoring as much camera footage and social media as she can to keep an eye out that way, but there’s only so much we can do. This guy has been a ghost for decades, he’s a master of staying hidden.”

“He has not had to contend with me before,” Loki snarled, “We’re going to find the bastard and I don’t care what I promised Rogers, I’ll tear Barnes limb from limb.”

He briefly recalled what Wanda had said: Jak would not be happy if Loki killed Bucky. In the moment, with frustration rising, it only made him want to hurt the other man more. Let the so-called ghost actually die as everyone thought he had in the forties.

Loki and Thor went to find the rest of the Avengers and fill them in on the situation. Rhodey and Natasha were on a mission, but the rest continued to plot how to get their janitor back. 

Chapter Text

A week into her imprisonment Jak had yet to see Bucky again. In every spare moment she had, she searched the massive Victorian-styled home to look for him, but her father’s cameras were everywhere and he frequently caught up with her and steered her in another direction. Once caught, she was made to take care of simple chores around the house.

“I really ought to dissuade you from thinking of your days as a janitor, but until I can trust you enough to remove your magic dampening cuff, I need something to keep you busy,” Uriah told her, “Now, it’s probably been twenty years since that chimney’s been cleaned. Get to it and watch out for the bats!”

Every time she tried to rebel against him, he threatened to take more memories from her. She’d finally decided it was no use to throw her tantrums when he followed through. Though she couldn’t remember what memory he’d taken, she knew she’d cried as he pulled it from her mind and she knew from his disgusted remark that “casinos are tacky places anyway” that it was from the time she and her mother had been hotel maids in Vegas. But she could not piece together any more information about it. 

Not wanting to risk any more recent memories, she finally resolved to play the part of demure daughter. She wore the clothes he’d given her, kept her head down, and only spoke when spoken to. It was agony and she wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, but she slowly gained his trust.

“I knew you would come around eventually,” he patted her cheek at the end of the sixteenth day she’d been there, “And I won’t hold your childish rebellion against you. After being so long in the world, away from your good and decent upbringing, I’m sure you just fell into bad habits. We’ll keep working on correcting them.”

“Of course, Father,” she sighed, clenching her fists.

She stopped looking for Bucky after a time. There was only one place he could be and she couldn’t get close to the cellar door without her father swooping in and scolding her. Instead, she turned her attention to looking for something a bit smaller: a way to communicate with the Avengers. 

In her chores, it was easy to poke through drawers and cabinets for something she could use to get out a message. However, unless she wanted to write a letter and somehow get it in the mail, she was out of luck. Even so, when she located a sheet of Canadian stamps, she took one and hid it away with the pen and paper she’d stolen. Not that it would do her much good.

As far as she could tell, there was no other sign of civilization for miles. When she was allowed outside to tend to the garden or empty buckets of soapy water, she looked for paths or roads. There was nothing. It looked like the house had been dropped from the sky in the middle of the Canadian wilderness.

On occasion, a Russian woman with a thick accent and minimal English vocabulary rode out to the house on an ATV and prepared meals for them, leaving some in the freezer that Uriah would later ask Jak to heat up. So, there had to be a town somewhere, but Jak had no clue how far away the woman came from. She tried to watch her leave through the highest window in the house, but her route was quickly blocked by trees.

After a month of captivity, Jak got desperate and tried to get the woman to post a letter for her. She’d written a short note detailing the most important information. She was in Canada. Her father was alive and holding her against her will. Bucky was somewhere in the house and wanted to help her escape. And then she described the outside of the house in as much detail as she could. She had no envelope to put the letter in, instead taping the paper closed on itself and writing the Avengers Compound address on it. She put a stamp on and quietly approached the cook with a friendly smile.

The woman was preparing dinner and Jak entered the kitchen under the guise of helping.

“ Otpravlyat’ ?” She did not remember much Russian, but she was fairly certain she’d said the word “send”.

“ Otpravlyat ’?” The woman took the letter and traced the address with her fingertip. She looked toward the dining room where Uriah sat, reviewing something on his laptop. It was still odd for Jak to see her father engaging with modern technology. She wished she could get ahold of the device, but he locked it in a safe when he wasn’t using it.

“ Spasibo? ” She couldn’t remember if that was “please” or “thank you” but she figured either would be polite in the circumstances.

“No,” the woman shook her head in a whisper, “No. Sorry.”

“Wait,” Jak felt panic rise in her chest when the woman turned on the gas stove, “No, please! Please send it!”

The woman shook her head again and put the corner of the letter in the stove fire. Jak snarled angrily at her and reached for the letter to try and save it, but the woman was strong and knocked her to the floor. Jak watched helplessly as the stamp curled and burned, followed by the rest of the letter until it was all ash.

“Damn you!” She slapped her hand against the tile floor and scowled at the woman.

“Not safe,” the woman looked toward the dining room and then drew her finger across her throat. Jak understood the fear. She’d seen countless servants killed, beaten, or thrown to the wolves at her father’s command. It still enraged her and she stormed from the kitchen out the back door of the house.

There, parked next to the garden bed was her ATV. It would be stupid to try and drive the machine without knowing where she was going. Especially at night in the forest that she so feared. But, Jak was feeling a bit desperate and more than a little stupid for trying to get the woman to help her in the first place. So, she hitched up her knee length skirt and climbed onto the vehicle.

The keys were still in the ignition. Jak started the ATV and when it roared to life, she immediately wished she’d tried to roll it farther away from the house before doing so. The kitchen door slammed open, but she was already pushing buttons and pulling things until she found the throttle and sent the vehicle galloping forward. 

“No! No! Come back!” The cook yelled at her.

Jak had never driven an ATV before, so she actually didn’t really know how to turn back, even if she’d wanted to. She was barely managing to dodge the trees on her way into the forest. It was summer, so the night was not completely dark yet, but in the shade of the trees it felt much later. She frantically glanced down at the buttons on the handlebar and noticed what appeared to be headlights. She flicked it and the ground in front of her illuminated. She laughed excitedly and pressed the throttle harder, zooming ahead.

“I don’t think so,” her father’s voice boomed. A bright orange flash startled her into hitting the brake and she nearly flew over the handlebar. Her father appeared in front of her and he snapped his fingers. The ATV caught fire and Jak yelped, jumping from it and trying to run away.

“Jessica, you were doing so well,” he tsked, following after her. “I think you know what punishment you’ve earned now.”

She kept running until a circle of flame surrounded her and began to close in.

“What memory shall I take from you this time?” Her father crooned as he stepped closer.

“Leave me alone!” She screamed.

“I am your only family left,” he stepped through the fire as if it were nothing and grabbed her arm, pulling her close to him. He pressed his hand to her forehead and no matter how she fought and struggled, she could not break away from him. “You don’t really want me to leave you alone.”

“Don’t take my memories,” she begged, “Please, Father, just let me go! Leave me alone.”

“What if I left you all alone in these woods? With no sense of direction, no way out? I remember how much you hated it that night we left you in the woods before. Are you so sure you want a repeat?”

Jak didn’t say anything, squeezing her eyes closed and doing her best to sort through the memories she still had. She didn’t want to let a single one go. Even the bad ones reminded her why she needed to keep fighting her father.

“But a loving father would not doom his favorite child that way,” he chuckled and brushed his knuckles against her cheek, “Come. Let us go back home and I will decide your punishment there.”

He snapped his fingers and his magic forced her to fall into step behind him as he led the way back to the house. The cook stood by the garden, arms wrapped around herself as she looked at Jaklyn with pity and sorrow. She muttered something under her breath in Russian and closed her eyes. It almost sounded like a prayer and despite her earlier anger, Jak was touched that someone would pray for her.

A moment later, she realized in horror that the prayer was not for her . It was for the cook herself when Uriah caught sight of her. Jaklyn realized this as her father berated the woman in Russian and then snapped his fingers, sending her up in smoke. Jak screamed and tried to look away as the woman burned, but her father’s magic kept her watching until the cook stopped moving and lay in a smoldering heap.

“That is only the first part of your punishment,” he told her, moving her along with him into the house, “It’s really more her punishment for leaving the keys in her vehicle. The second part of your punishment is to finish dinner so we can sit down for a proper meal.”

“How can you be hungry after burning a person alive?!” Jak gagged. The smell of charred flesh was in the air.

“You’d be surprised what an appetite adrenaline works up,” Uriah laughed, “Your third punishment will be to bury her once she stops smoking. And your fourth is that I will take all of your memories from this night and any memories that the woman ever existed in the first place.”

“Why? Why take those memories?!” She knew why, but she hoped he would reconsider.

“Sometime during the years we have been separated, you have turned softhearted,” he pushed her into the kitchen, toward the pot that was about to boil over, “Or perhaps you always were and I did not iron it out of you when I should have. Either way, I know that such a violent death for someone innocent will not win me any affection. Right?”

“I hate you,” she seethed, tending to the dinner against her will, “I’ll never stop hating you.”

“You love me,” he sat down at the kitchen table and lazily drummed his knuckles against the wood, “You just need to be reminded. And you need to forget what I did to that corpse out in the yard.”

“If you want me to love you, then you’ll have to erase every single memory in my head,” she told him, hoping she wasn’t giving him any ideas.

“Oh no, dear daughter, that would shatter your brain I’m afraid. I am a patient man, but even I do not wish to wait for you to grow up all over again.”

“Then I’ll never stop hating you.”

“We’ll see,” he chuckled.

When dinner was finished, she served it to him and tried her hardest to throw it in his face. Thankfully, he didn’t force her to eat. If had, she wasn’t sure that she would have been able to keep it down. After he finished eating, he sent her to the yard and gave her a shovel. She tried to fight against his spell and hit him in the head with it, but was unable. She dug a grave and, unable to refuse, picked up the charred bones of the cook and threw them in, crying and retching the entire time. When she was done, her father took her to the bathroom, released his spell, locked the door and ordered her to wash the smell of death away.

When she had scrubbed her skin until it was red, she still felt as if she could smell the smoke on herself, but knew she couldn’t stay in the shower forever. Her father tossed a clean nightgown in the room and waited for her to get changed. When she was finished he grabbed her arm and pulled her to her bedroom.

He placed his hand on her forehead.

“Since you’ve been doing so well up until tonight, I shall reward you with a new memory in exchange for the one I am taking. Enjoy!”

Everything went black and she crumpled to the ground. She dreamed of things that never really happened. Of her father reading to her when she was a child. Dancing with her at balls and defending her from the suitors who mistreated her. When she woke, she knew that she’d made him mad the day before, but she couldn’t remember what she’d done. Recalling all of her dreams of him, she almost felt bad that she had angered him.

Almost.

Chapter Text

“A month and a half,” Loki seethed as he, Thor, and Romanoff drove through a small town in upstate New York. “How can she just disappear for a month and a half?!”

They were near the border, having received another tip that someone fitting the Winter Soldier’s description had been seen in the woods about a month ago. It was hard to believe they’d find anything, but Loki would not let them give up hope on Jak until they brought her home.

“At least we know that the sorcerer who sent her mother’s bones was the one who took her,” Thor offered. “Or someone else with magic. How else would they be able to hide themselves from Heimdall’s gaze?”

“I’d rather we didn’t know that,” Romanoff said, “if it meant your all-seeing friend could find her.”

“Heimdall is not as all-seeing as he would have people believe,” Loki muttered. “The spell to hide from his sight is complicated, but anyone could do it with enough focus.”

“Could Jak?” Romanoff asked. “Did you teach her how to do it?”

“Why would he have taught her that?” Thor asked. “Why would she use it?”

“Maybe in case they wanted to run away together,” she shrugged. Loki had to admit it was a decent idea. If he found Jak again, perhaps he would teach the spell to her and they could follow through with the hypothetical plan.

“I did not show her how to hide from Heimdall,” Loki shook his head, “It must be the other sorcerer. Which means he knows enough about Thor and myself to know he would have to hide from Heimdall.”

“Could it be another Asgardian?” Romanoff asked, “SHIELD ran into a couple of other people from your world not too long after Thor crash landed here. Seems like your dad uses our realm as a bit of a criminal dumping ground.”

“He always takes away their magic before banishing them here,” Thor assured her, “So if it was an Asgardian, they wouldn’t be able to hide from Heimdall.”

“Could it be an Asgardian who isn’t banished then? Maybe someone who came here without anyone knowing? Can you think of anyone who would have cause?”

“We never did figure out Jaklyn’s parentage,” Loki sighed, “Perhaps she has a relative in Asgard or one of the other realms who took her away.”

“Or someone wanted revenge on you,” Romanoff pointed out, meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror. A cold feeling of dread shot down his spine at the idea of someone taking her because of him. He pictured purple skin and gold armor in his mind and the torture he’d endured at a mad man’s hand. He didn’t realize he was shaking until Thor reached back from the passenger seat and put a hand on his knee.

“If it is revenge, they’re doing a poor job of it,” the big blond said, “After all, how would Loki know it was revenge and what the revenge was for unless the fiend told us? This is too ambiguous a disappearance to be revenge.”

“And the sorcerer was not interested in me,” Loki told himself and the other two, “He only wanted Jak. It is too great a coincidence to think that both the sorcerer and someone else were both interested in kidnapping Jaklyn for different reasons.”

“Weirder things have happened,” Romanoff shrugged, “But I agree it’s unlikely.”

“Hey look! Stop!” Thor opened his car door before Romanoff could stop the vehicle and dashed through the town square to a community bulletin board. Romanoff hit the brakes and pulled into a parking spot before she and Loki followed Thor. By the time they got to him, he was already shaking his head.

“Nevermind, I saw this missing poster and thought perhaps it was a found poster for Jaklyn,” Thor pointed to a cheaply printed paper with a grainy photograph of a smiling woman.

“‘Missing, reward, Lyubov Buzinsky, last known work for magic man’?” Loki read the English words off the poster. There was more writing in Russian and a phone number to call with information.

“Magic man?” Thor asked.

“Probably not the one we’re looking for, but it’s worth checking out,” Romanoff leaned closer to read the poster. “It says ‘please help, my daughter has been missing since…’ that’s fifteen days ago, yikes, ‘she went to work for a man who lives in the woods, but never came back and she never told me where he lived exactly. Please help, I do not speak English and the police will not help me.’”

“Let’s call her!” Thor suggested, “Even if she doesn’t know anything about our janitor, perhaps we can help her find her daughter.”

“We already have a missing person of our own,” Loki shook his head, “We don’t have time to help with hers. Let us see if she knows where Jaklyn is or anything else and then be done with her.”

“We’ll help if we can,” Romanoff decided, taking out her cell phone and dialing the number on the poster, “We’re the Avengers, that’s what we do.”

“I thought the Avengers saved the world,” Loki rolled his eyes.

Romanoff shushed him and began speaking in Russian to her phone. There was a long pause when she just nodded her head and then she took out a pen and paper from her pocket and gestured for Thor to turn around. Using his back as a table, she wrote down an address, said something else to the woman, and then hung up.

“She wants us to go talk with her. Loki, can you disguise us? On the off chance that the ‘magic man’ is watching her, I don’t want him to recognize us and then panic.”

“Done,” Loki flicked his wrist and the three of them wore different faces and simple gray suits. They looked official, but not celebrity status.

When they arrived at the rundown apartment building, a short woman wearing a scarf over gray hair waved to them from the litter covered yard. They all shook her hand and she began speaking to Romanoff. Eventually, she gestured for them to follow her inside her tiny, but neat apartment on the ground floor. She made them tea and offered them seats around her folding table.

The conversation took a long time with the three of them asking questions, the woman answering, and then Romanoff translating.

“She says Lyubov worked for a rich man who came into town seeking a cook and housekeeper. She would go out once or twice a week to clean his big house and make him meals. Recently, he stopped having her clean for him but still had her cook. She went out fifteen days ago and never came back, but the police won’t look for her.”

“Why not?” Thor asked.

“She says that the first reason is because his house is across the border so it’s out of their jurisdiction,” Romanoff frowned, “The second is that they think Lyubov ran away. And the third reason they won’t help is because they think our host here is a crazy old lady and they don’t have anyone on the force who speaks Russian and she doesn’t have any friends who speak English well enough to help.”

“We will tell the police her story, won’t we?” Thor reached out and held the old woman’s hand, “It is foolish that they cannot simply find someone to speak to her.”

“We’ll talk to them,” Romanoff agreed.

“Does she know anything else about the man that her daughter went to work for?” Loki asked, doing his best to be patient. He felt sorry for the woman, of course, but she really wasn’t any of his concern. Jaklyn was his concern. He wanted her back and he’d already wasted enough time.

Romanoff asked the woman in Russian and waited for the long response before translating.

“His name is Uriah Fenice,” she told them, “He is rich, keeps to himself, and she knows he uses magic because her daughter saw him use it. Bright orange flashes apparently.”

“That’s our sorcerer,” Loki clenched his fists.

“Everyone in town thinks he’s cursed and evil. She says that her daughter only agreed to work for him because the pay was good and because he spoke Russian.”

They thanked the woman and told her that they would pass on her story to the police. While Loki and Romanoff went to speak with the local law enforcement, Thor flew into the air and did a sweep of the forest on the other side of the border. When he landed an hour later he shook his head, saying there was not a house to be seen from above, certainly not a large house like the woman described.

“More magic at play,” Loki shook his head, “We’ll have to scour the woods on foot and even then we may not find it if he’s truly cloaked it with magic.”

“The cook had to find it somehow though,” Thor pointed out.

“But not anymore,” Romanoff sighed, “If she’s missing she’s probably dead. This Uriah Fenice guy probably killed her and now he has no reason for anyone else to find his house.”

“So it’s hidden,” Loki seethed, his own magic rolling off him in waves and crumpling the front of a police cruiser. “There has to be an easier way to find it than trying to dispel a hiding enchantment on all of the Canadian wilderness.”

“Let’s see what we can find about this Uriah guy. Tony can work his own magic with a name and a general location,” Romanoff unlocked the car, “C’mon, let’s go back to the Compound.”

.

.

“Never heard of him before,” Stark declared upon hearing the name Uriah Fenice, “Let’s change that.”

“Uriah Fenice,” Vision piped up, “Canadian multi-millionaire. He runs a shipping company along with several businesses selling a line of health products called Rebirth. Born sixty-four years ago, he appears much younger and credits it to his health products. His customers say that those products have worked for them as well. He backs several politicians and has ties to both the Canadian and American governments as well as several overseas powers.”

“You take all the fun out of research,” Stark pouted, his hands hovering over his keyboard, “But good job, Raspberry Beret.”

“Raspberry Beret, really?” Romanoff raised a brow.

“I call ‘em like I see ‘em.”

“Rebirth?” Rogers said, “Is that ringing bells for anyone else?”

“Uh… I know this one, I know this one,” Stark tapped his forehead.

“Project Rebirth,” Vision supplied, “Also sometimes known as the Super Soldier Project. 

“Are there any pictures of this Uriah guy?” Romanoff asked. “Can we run them against pics of people involved in Project Rebirth?”

“If he was involved I’ll recognize him.”

“What is the Super Soldier Project?” Thor asked, rubbing his beard, “I know people often refer to Steve as such, but I assumed it was just because he is so athletic.”

“Thor,” Loki rolled his eyes, “He hasn’t always been that way.”

“Well of course not! When he was a child I assume--”

“Here’s a picture of Steve before Project Rebirth,” Stark said, throwing a black and white photograph onto the screen. Thor’s eyebrows skyrocketed and he looked at Rogers and then back at the screen.

Rogers smiled awkwardly and patted Thor on the shoulder. “I had a bit of a growth spurt after I joined the military. Like Tony likes to say: everything special about me came out of a bottle.”

“Huh,” Thor stared at the picture a moment longer and then laughed and clapped Rogers on the back, “That is not true at all! You have the heart of a warrior and I’m sure even when you were a bony runt with limbs like toothpicks you were a good man!”

“Thanks, Thor.”

“Yes, Steve Rogers was once pathetic and tiny -- enough about him,” Loki snapped his fingers in Stark’s face, “Show us Uriah Fenice.”

“Here,” Vision pointed at the computer and the screen changed, “This is the only picture I could find on all of the internet or in any of the confidential databases to which I have access.”

“Stop messing with my computer!” Stark wagged his finger at his robot and turned back to the screen, “This is kind of blurry. What’s this from?”

“A group photo of the company board for Rebirth, I have included the names of the other board members.”

“Steve, does he look familiar?”

“Can you make the picture bigger?”

“You’ve got to get reading glasses, old man,” Stark snorted and zoomed in.

“I can’t be sure, but,” Rogers crossed his arms and sighed, “He looks like the Hydra agent who killed Dr. Abraham Erskine. Heinz Kruger. But he chomped down on a cyanide pill when I caught him, so it can’t be.”

“Suicide is the easiest death to fake,” Loki replied, “You control all the variables.”

“What happened to his body after he killed himself?” Romanoff asked.

“Can you look into it, Vision?” Rogers turned to the robot.

“Hey! I could look into it too!” Stark began typing furiously on his computer.

“The only record I can find of Heinz Kruger is the old SSR file about him killing Erskine. There is no record of his death beyond mention of cyanide, no mention of his remains going to a mortuary, no mention of his undercover American identity’s death either. He barely exists on paper,” Vision said, “Very little is known about him beyond his stealing the serum and killing the doctor.”

“Great, I’ve made myself obsolete by keeping this robot alive,” Stark threw his hands in the air. “Technology really will overrun the human race.”

“Jaklyn had connections in Hydra, or at least her parents did,” Romanoff said, “If you think that looks like a Hydra agent, then I’d bet he’s a Hydra agent. Either way, we need to find a way to get to Uriah Fenice and see what he knows about Jak.”

“Robot, does he have an address listed somewhere?” Loki asked.

“No,” Stark piped up, “I checked already. All we have is Rebirth’s address. But, good news is, the Rebirth company is hosting a charity fundraising event in two weeks at their headquarters in Ottawa.”

“Uriah will be there?” Rogers asked.

“It’s his company, so if he’s not that’s a bad look.”

“So we’re crashing their fundraiser?” Romanoff said, “Sneaking in?”

“Or, we could kidnap some of the attendees and I could disguise us as them,” Loki suggested.

“Guys,” Stark glared at them, “It’s a rich people event. I’m a rich person. I’ll just buy us tickets to go.”

“That will cause suspicion if Uriah Fenice does have Jak,” Loki pointed out, “Don’t you think he’ll be alarmed if he sees an Avenger on the guest list?”

“That’s why I’m not buying them as Tony Stark,” he grinned, “I’ll buy them as Wayne Bruceberry, eccentric billionaire from New Jersey.”

“Who the hell is Wayne Bruceberry?” Romanoff asked.

“He’s my alter-ego!”

“I thought Iron Man was your alter-ego,” Thor said.

“My alter-alter-ego. I’ve built up a whole online personality and profile for him. He’s the head of Bruceberry Produce. Which is my produce company that I keep secret.”

“This sounds like tax fraud,” Rogers remarked.

“No! Not really. I swear I had lawyers handle everything. But the most important thing is that Wayne Bruceberry can’t be traced back to me! So he’ll buy tickets and then we’ll go in disguise and get our janitor back!”

“Another two weeks,” Loki growled, “We have to wait two more weeks before we save her.”

“Take heart, brother! Jaklyn can take care of herself,” Thor said comfortingly, “I’m sure she will be perfectly fine when we get to her.”

“If she is not,” Loki looked each Avenger in the eye, “I will be violating my probation in a dramatically violent way.”

“We’ll keep that in mind,” Stark gave him a thumbs up.

Chapter Text

“I have a surprise for you, Jessica,” Uriah crooned, stepping into the kitchen where Jak was scrubbing the floor. She looked up at him and swiped her hair away from her face with the back of her hand. He was smiling. She still wanted to get away from him and back to the Avengers, but she couldn’t stop herself from being pleased that he was pleased. 

“What surprise?” She asked. In the month and a half that she’d been there, she had done her best to play the part of demure daughter so that he would let down his guard. For some reason, in the past fifteen days he’d kept her on a much shorter leash and she couldn’t figure out what she’d done to lose his trust. Perhaps now she was finally getting it back.

“I have managed to get our friend, the Winter Soldier, back under my control,” Uriah told her and beckoned her to follow him. She threw her scrub brush into the bucket and left her rubber gloves on the floor next to it. Scrambling after her father, she followed him to the basement door that he always kept her away from and then down the many stairs into the basement. It was cold even on the rickety stairs and when they arrived in the long, dark corridor Jak shivered. There were rows of barred cells. She wondered why her father had never threatened to lock her in one when she was being difficult. It was certainly something he would have used against her in the past to scare her.

“I think you will do well with a special project. The chores only keep you busy for so long,” he said, as if he didn’t have her washing and rewashing every corner of the house every waking moment, “So, you will now be the caretaker for Sergeant Barnes.”

Upon hearing his name, Bucky stepped out of a shadow and stood before them, making Jak jump in surprise. He stared dead ahead, eyes focused on nothing as he loomed over her. He wasn’t that much taller than she was, but she felt small standing next to him when his face was so expressionless. A memory of him breaking into the Avengers Compound stirred in her mind, but it hurt too much to think about so she didn’t pursue it.

“What do you mean by caretaker?” She asked.

“You’ll make sure he’s fed, take him for walks around the garden, maybe even into the woods a little ways if you’re brave enough. Keep his hair tidy, shave his face for him. Clean his cage,” Uriah patted Bucky’s head and smiled toothily at him, “He’ll be a nice little pet for you.”

“He’s a human being,” Jak protested weakly, “He deserves to have his own mind so he can take care of himself.”

“He is human,” her father pinched Bucky’s nose, “Humans are disposable.”

“You say that as if you are not human,” she said suspiciously. 

She’d suspected before that he might not be. Hadn’t someone recently asked her if her father was human? Hadn’t someone been curious about her pink hair and purple eyes and thought she might have blood from another world? It pinched her brain to think about, but she kept pressing the memory until she remembered striking green eyes staring at her curiously. Before she could remember the face to go with them, her father startled her with his next words.

“It is about time that you learned I am not,” he laughed, “But we’ll talk about that later. For now, take Sergeant Barnes on a walk around the property. Don’t worry, he won’t need a leash.”

Uriah laughed and went back upstairs, leaving her alone with the emotionless man and too many questions.

Her father wasn’t human. But what was he? Some kind of alien like Thor? Something else? This meant that she wasn’t entirely human either, didn’t it?

“Your father told us to go for a walk,” Bucky said robotically.

“Right, yes,” she shook her head and began climbing the stairs. Bucky followed her, his boots heavy on each wooden step. They went out through the kitchen door and past the new flower bed that she didn’t remember putting in, but her father said she’d helped dig. Nothing they’d planted there had sprouted yet and she got a weird feeling about the plot of dirt. It made her sad for some reason.

“I’m guessing you won’t let me go too far,” she looked at Bucky, who in his black clothes with his shaggy hair, looked out of place in the bright summer sun in the garden.

“We have a two hundred meter radius to keep around the house,” he replied.

“And what happens if I leave the radius?”

“I’ll bring you back to the house and lock you in your room.”

“Right,” she doubted she could outrun him, but she didn’t think she would try even if she were faster. As much as she wanted to leave her father’s house, now that she knew he wasn’t human, she felt the need to stay and learn more. She might never have the chance to learn more about what he was if she left. And what she was.

.

.

The next three days she spent more time with Bucky. She was glad of his closeness even if he was not himself. Her memories of him grew stronger as they spent more time together and one morning, while they were on their stroll of the property, she was hit suddenly with the memory of kissing him. She remembered this as she watched his face while they walked. She’d been staring at his mouth, studying him, when all of a sudden she remembered a cold cell in Siberia and reaching through bars holding his hand, touching his face, pressing their lips together.

“Oh,” she felt almost dizzy at the memory and had to steady herself on a tree.

“Are you alright?” he asked her, oblivious as she remembered long nights sitting next to his cell, swapping stories of their childhoods, holding hands, comforting each other in the cold dark Hydra base.

“Do you remember anything before you became the Winter Soldier?” She asked.

“I’m not asking about your emotions. Are you physically well?” He insisted.

“I’m fine,” she closed her eyes and grit her teeth when she remembered the morning after they’d kissed and how the scientists and her mother had taken him away and then taken his mind away. And then he’d been put in the cryo chamber and she hadn’t seen the real Bucky again until her father had captured her. And she hadn’t even remembered. Had he remembered? Was that why he was helping her? But it didn’t matter. His mind had been taken away again and she was powerless to stop it.

The black cuff on her wrist caught her eye.

“Powerless,” she mused aloud.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she smiled at him, “Let’s keep walking. I want to check on that robin’s nest we found yesterday.”

She was currently powerless to do anything to help Bucky. But that didn’t have to be the case forever. She just had to convince her father what an obedient daughter she was and maybe she could take back a little power for both her and Bucky.

.

.

“Father?” Jak stepped into the study where Uriah was typing away on his computer. She knew better than to try and get the device away from him, much as she wanted to wrench it away and let the Avengers know where she was.

“Jessica, come in,” he closed the laptop and smiled at her. 

“Thank you,” she bowed her head and clasped her hands in front of her, “I am sorry to bother you while you’re working.”

It made her nauseous to act the way she had for so long before she’d thought he’d died. To bow down to him, to respect him though he didn’t deserve it. But, she knew how to play his games and she’d never get anywhere by fighting him.

“No bother at all,” he told her, which surprised her to some extent. He’d often thrown things at her in the past for daring to disturb him. “What can I do for my favorite daughter?”

From his teasing voice she knew he’d meant the word “favorite” as a joke, since, presumably, she was his only daughter still living, but she couldn’t help but wonder if there was another son or daughter out in the world who he was not treating as well as he treated her.

If that were the case, she felt truly sorry for them. His love was bad enough, she was afraid to see what his hate looked like toward his offspring.

“I wanted to apologize,” she said, risking a glance up at him to see how he would take the news. He seemed smug, so she continued. “When you brought me here, I was scared and I was shocked to learn that you are alive. But that is no excuse for my ungrateful behavior. I am sorry for how I acted and I hope that my behavior in the meantime has improved and that you will forgive me.”

“I accept your apology,” he nodded, “And I forgive you.”

“Thank you--”

“But your behavior still needs work.”

She furrowed her brow, but bit back a protest. She’d been nothing but meek and mild for the past month and a half. Well, maybe a little bit rebellious, but she’d thought she’d done a good job of getting herself under control quickly in order to get him to let his guard down.

“You have no memory of this because it would be cruel of me to let you live with such a memory, but you tried to escape not long ago.”

Her eyes went wide and she stared at him. 

She’d tried to escape. How far had she made it? How had she done it? What had stopped her? She had no idea. If she tried to escape again, she might try the same way she had before without even knowing how it had failed and he would be able to reset her again and she’d forget again. She mentally clawed at her memories but the pain was too great and she didn’t want him to know she was trying to remember or he’d take something else.

“I don’t remember,” she said, not having to fake the distress in her voice, “I’m sorry father, I was stupid for doing it. I won’t do it again.”

“That is yet to be determined,” he drummed his fingers on the desk, “But just know that the last attempt left you in anguish. You hurt yourself trying to escape and I healed you. I took the memory away so that you wouldn’t have to lose sleep on nightmares of your foolish actions.”

Had she really hurt herself in the attempt? Maybe she’d run through the woods and been attacked by an animal. Or, more likely, her father had hurt her for trying to run away and he didn’t want her to know about it.

“Thank you for saving me,” she whispered, wringing her hands in the fabric of her skirt. “I am sorry, Father, even if I can’t remember.”

“Good,” he looked her in the eye, “Now, what request do you have for me?”

“I don’t--” She did, but had changed her mind to wait another day. With the new knowledge that she had tried to escape, she had to be extra careful how she behaved now.

“You came in here to apologize so that you can get something from me. What is it that you want?”

She took a deep breath. If she told him she didn’t want anything now, he would be irritated with her for lying to him. But the odds that he would say yes had dropped after he revealed that she’d tried to escape. Still, a no was better than irritating him. With a no she could try again.

“I want to learn more about our magic, father,” she said, “You told me you weren’t human. Does that mean I am not human either? What are we? How does that affect our magic?”

“Your mother asked me for centuries what I am and I never told her more than this,” he held his palms upward on his desk and closed his eyes. His palms caught fire and when he opened his eyes again, the purple irises were burning along with his palms. The color flickered like the blue part of a flame. “I am an everlasting blaze.”

Jak watched him as the fire began to lick up his arms and burn the fabric of his shirt.

“If you continue this good behavior, I will grant you use of your magic,” he told her, “Under my supervision, of course. Your mother’s teachings were all but useless. Of course, I can’t blame her. She was a mere human with feeble abilities. You are so much more and you can do more than she ever could.”

Jak nodded, thanked him, and then returned to her chores. Bucky was her ever-present shadow and her reminder that her mother might have been only human, but her abilities with magic were far from feeble.

After all, it was her mother who had used her magic with Hydra’s technology to erase Bucky Barnes and create the Winter Soldier.

And as soon as Jak had access to her own power, she intended to use her mother’s “useless” teachings to bring Bucky back.

Chapter Text

Though Bucky wasn’t much more than a silent bodyguard, Jak still enjoyed being around him. She didn’t expect their romance to pick up where it left off if she was able to get him back, but she still found comfort in his presence and hoped, somewhere in his head, he felt the same. Besides, there was another reason, hidden in her memories that she couldn’t quite grasp, that told her not to strike up a relationship with him. 

Hadn’t there been someone else? Hadn’t there been cunning green eyes and a voice that called her elskan mín? She couldn’t remember anything else, but she knew she had someone out there waiting for her. At least, she hoped he was waiting. It had been nearly two months since she’d been taken, she wouldn’t blame whoever it was for giving up on her and moving on.

Regardless, before she could find out more about her green eyed mystery, she had to save Bucky. Since she didn’t yet have access to her magic, she was doing her best to try and reach him by spending as much time as possible with him instead. 

On that particular day, she was doing so by cleaning his arm for him. It was amazing how much dirt had built up in the grooves in the time that he’d been in her father’s house. She was using a toothbrush and a kitchen sponge to clear out the debris, sitting on her bedroom floor while he stood by the doorway, one-armed and silent.

“I remember when they built this,” she told him, though she knew he wouldn’t respond, “All of the Hydra scientists were patting themselves on the back about how ingenious it was.”

He said nothing, didn’t even look over his shoulder.

“We should paint over this red star. Clearly you're not the property of the Soviet Union anymore. Not that you ever were property ,” she scratched at the red star with her fingernail, “You’re a person. What would you like to paint over the star?”

“Leave it,” he grunted.

“Right, I forgot,” she sighed, “You aren’t really much of a person right now. I’ll ask again when you are less of a killing robot and more of a human man.”

She continued to chatter at him, with the occasional grunt in response and made her way down all the groves in the arm until she got to the hand. Feeling nostalgic, she twined its fingers with her own and enjoyed the feeling of holding a hand, even if it was a hard metal one.

“Don’t…” Bucky said from the doorway, his brow furrowed. He’d turned to look at her. “Don’t do that.”

“Can you feel it?” She asked curiously. “Is it linked to your brain?”

“Not when it’s disconnected,” he shook his head, “It’s clean enough. Your father ordered you to sweep out the cells in the basement. Let’s get to it.”

“Right,” she gave the arm one more wipe down before handing it back to him. He clicked it into place and rolled his shoulder in a way that made Jak stare and wonder why she found the motion so attractive.

“Come on,” he grunted, taking a step toward the staircase.

“Hold on a moment, Winter Soldier,” Uriah’s voice called from the end of the upstairs corridor, “I have something I’d like to discuss with my daughter.”

Bucky stood to attention, eyes glazed over.

“Yes, Father?” Jak bowed her head and folded her hands, imagining taking Bucky’s arm and hitting her father over the head with it.

“You’ve had your pet for a week now,” he looked at Bucky and then back at her, “And you’ve done an exceptional job taking care of him -- though he is getting a little scruffy, perhaps a shave soon, yes?”

She nodded, though she liked his facial hair.

“As a reward for your good behavior, today I am going to give you access to your magic,” Uriah beamed at her, “You can use it however you like for today and tomorrow we’ll begin your real magic lessons. What do you think?”

“Thank you, Father, that’s wonderful!” She smiled at him and it was almost real. If she didn’t know that this was a test, she would be actually happy. She knew he was just giving her magic back to see what she would do and if she would try to escape. He wouldn’t do it unless he had contingencies to keep her on the property. And she knew he’d be watching her too closely for her to even attempt getting in Bucky’s head.

“Isn’t it?” He chucked her chin and patted her cheek, “I’ll turn off the dampening cuff and then you are free to do whatever you like for the day -- I still want the cells swept out, mind you, but whatever else you want to do with your time is just fine. Sergeant Barnes will accompany you to keep you safe.”

“I’ll practice some of my disguise spells,” she told him, “Like changing my hair color. Now that I’m Jessica Fenice, I probably shouldn’t have bright pink hair, right?”

“Speaking of, there is a second part to your reward,” he flicked his wrist and conjured a clothing hanger into his hand. A moment later a velvet, plum colored evening gown formed on the hanger. It was a floor length gown with excess fabric in the back that would trail behind the wearer just slightly. It had a high, halter neck, but no sleeves and the back swooped low. There was a copper colored chain belt to go with that draped over one hip and looped around the waist. Velvet wasn’t really to Jak’s taste, but she supposed it was pretty.

“A dress?” She asked, realizing she’d been staring too long without saying anything. “Thank you, it’s beautiful.”

“A dress that you will be wearing to a charity ball this week,” Uriah told her, handing her the hanger, “I think a nice auburn for your hair would match the belt nicely, practice that color when you work on your disguise spells.”

“I’m going to a ball?”

“We are,” he glanced at Bucky again, “All three of us, as a matter of fact.”

“Where?”

“At the headquarters for my company. The charity we shall be supporting is for some rare endangered bird. I only hold these things for the tax write off and the social connections.”

“You’re sure you want me to go?” She asked, wary of what he had in store for her at the event. Surely he wouldn’t risk her escaping just to show off his daughter to his business associates.

“Of course,” he began to walk away, “You said that you wished I had married you off years ago, didn’t you? Well, this will be a good opportunity to make progress on that front. We’ll find some wealthy boy with no ambition of his own and bring him into the family. He will be your consort when we are, one day, on our thrones. Perhaps I can even look forward to my first grandchild, hmm?”

Jak felt her stomach drop as she watched her father leave her standing in the hall with the purple dress and the Winter Soldier. She pressed her free hand to her gut and did her best not to scream with rage. 

“There will never be grandchildren,” she muttered to herself, barely a whisper, “And even if I ever change my mind, he’ll never spend a moment with them. I swear it.”

“Let’s go sweep the cells,” Bucky said calmly.

Enraged more than ever at the prospect of having a husband thrown at her, Jak tossed her dress in her room and then hurried down to the basement dungeon. She angrily slammed cell doors open and attacked dust, dirt, and cobwebs mercilessly with her broom. Bucky stood by in the corner, watching her without a hint of emotion. The state of his brain made her even angrier, to the point that she began hitting the cell bars with her broom. She growled in frustration and threw the broom just as she noticed the lights on her power dampening cuff turn off. The broom glowed purple and then flew through the air like a javelin, straight toward Bucky.

“No!” She yelped, her hair beginning to glow as she pressed her hands to her mouth in horror.

Bucky caught the broom just before it impaled his chest and tossed it aside.

“Was that intentional?” He asked, sounding bored.

“Shit. No,” she took a deep breath and smoothed down her hair, “I’m so sorry, Geez Louis, I didn’t expect him to let me have my magic right away.”

Bucky didn’t say anything else. Jak took a few more deep breaths and got her hair to stop glowing and floating. She slowly picked up the broom and finished her chore before running up the basement steps and out the back door. Bucky was hot on her heels, ready to catch her if she ran for it, but she wasn’t planning on escaping just yet. She only needed to be outside.

She stopped at the new flower bed, the one where nothing would grow and waved her hand over it, channeling all of her magic toward the dirt. Dozens of phlox stems burst from the earth and exploded into purple flowers. Jak barked out a harsh laugh as she watched them and then turned her attention to the vegetable garden. A watermelon, which was the size of a baseball, swelled until it was half as tall as she was and then cracked open. A juicy, sweet smell filled the air and she grabbed a fistful of the pink fruit and bit into it.

“I’ve got my magic back,” she said, still shocked. Her father had told her he was giving it back, but she hadn’t expected it to be so soon, and she certainly hadn’t expected the rush of power she felt bursting from her fingertips. She could foggily remember using her powers at the Avengers Compound, but she thought they’d been weaker. Hadn’t she been struggling? Or was it just that she was afraid of hurting someone?

With no one except Bucky and her father nearby, she felt that she could let loose. Of course, she’d almost impaled Bucky on a broomstick, but he’d been fine. And he hadn’t seemed to care. He didn’t look at her like he was waiting for her to mess up the way the Avengers had when she’d used her powers around them. She felt in her unreachable memories that she liked the Avengers. And she thought that they liked her too, but she was realizing that she had also been afraid to slip up around them. She’d been on her best behavior for so long, tiptoeing around the fact that she’d tried to kill them, that she’d boxed up her confidence. She didn’t want them to be afraid of her or scold her for going too far.

But Bucky wouldn’t scold her for using her magic. Even if he were himself, he already knew what she could do and some of the horrible things that she had done, and he didn’t care.

And neither did the green eyed man that she couldn’t quite remember. He’d encouraged her, hadn’t he? She grasped at a scene in her head of a rooftop and of broken air conditioners. He’d wanted her to be powerful and told her to stop holding back.

Now, in her father’s garden, with rage toward that same father, she was not worried about holding herself back. She could have set the whole forest around them on fire. She could rip the house apart with her magic and fling the bricks miles away. 

But, instead, she grew some more flowers and changed her hair color to auburn. Then she cut the flowers with a slice of purple light and put them in a vase she transformed from a piece of firewood. She took the bouquet inside and presented it to her father.

“Thank you for trusting me with my magic,” she told him, unable to hide the way her eyes glowed a smoldering orange color as she looked at him. “I hope you like what I’ve done with it.”

“Lovely,” her father nodded, eyes glued to his laptop, “Thank you. Now run along. I have work to do.”

She nodded and left the room. She wanted to tell someone that she was angry and happy and powerful, but powerless and frustrated , but she couldn’t risk fixing Bucky’s brain on the first day she had her magic back. It would have to wait a day or two so her father wouldn’t get suspicious. So, in the meantime, she tried to sort through the complicated feelings herself and came to the conclusion that she would use her magic to kill any man her father tried to set her up with and, even if it was a trap, she would try to escape during the charity ball.

Chapter Text

The morning of the charity ball, Jak and Bucky were alone in her father’s penthouse suite in Ottawa. They were on the top floor of a building that looked out over the water and the city. It made Jak miss the days she’d spent cleaning Avengers Tower in another city. Her memories before the Compound were not as fuzzy and she assumed her father hadn’t bothered to take them because she’d been so lonely back then that there wasn’t much worth taking. She’d been afraid of the Avengers and they hadn’t much wanted to talk to someone who had tried to kill Steve Rogers. It was just the original six at that time, and occasionally Rhodey or Sam, though they were usually off on their own missions.

Still, she missed the views of New York and the coffee shop in the lobby of the Tower. She missed people watching and finding solace in the millions of people she would never meet, all going on with their lives.

Now, sitting in her father’s penthouse, diligently practicing changing her hair to auburn (though she could have done such a simple spell in her sleep at that point), she wondered if the Avengers were still looking for her. Or if they had even tried to find her in the first place. They were so good at super-heroing that it was hard to believe it would take them two months to find her when she was just across the border. But she knew her father was crafty, and she knew that Steve had been looking for Bucky for the past couple of years with no luck. There was still a chance they were looking, she told herself.

Her father had gone out to meet for brunch with his business associates. He’d left Jak with her magic just so that she could practice her disguise spells. She hadn’t let him know how powerful she’d felt since getting her magic back. He wouldn’t trust his “meek” daughter if he knew that she was practicing violent spells while on her walks with Bucky in the woods. There were several trees that had taken the brunt of her secrets. She’d known it was a risk to show her strength in front of Bucky, but she’d risked it anyway and he had yet to betray her. 

She waited thirty minutes after her father left before she stopped changing her hair color and stood up. With a glance at the camera in the corner of the room, she went to the restroom and came back with a straight edge razor, hot water, a towel, and shaving cream. She had Bucky sit in a chair and carefully patted his scruff with a hot, wet towel.

“I could do it myself,” he grunted when she lathered on the shaving cream.

“You could, but my father told me to do it, didn’t he?” She flicked open the razor and took a deep breath, “It has been a while since I’ve done this, so please sit still.”

“Why would you have ever done this? Were you a barber?” He asked, giving her confidence. If he had the capacity for sass, then maybe the mind control was already wearing off. It would make her job that much easier.

“My mother, when she was allowed to be around my father, took great pleasure in shaving his face for him. She made me watch every time and told me that one day I would have to know how to shave my husband’s face,” Jak slowly began to run the blade down his face. He sat perfectly still. “On the occasions that my mother was out of favor with my father and I was older, she made me shave his face instead. The first time I did it, I nicked his chin.”

She exhaled and began to quietly weave a spell with her fingertips as she gently scraped away at his face. Her magic wound its way into the mess that was his mind as she did her best to remember the ways her mother had taught her to get inside a person’s head. It had never been Jak’s forte, but she persevered even so, hoping she wouldn’t create more damage as she went.

“I nicked his chin, he slapped me, I finished his shave and nicked him twice more. He slapped me both times and when I was done with the shave, he took the razor and cut the back of my hand three times,” she looked at the back of her hand. Two of the scars had faded long ago, but she could still make out the third, which had cut deeper. She’d gotten the cuts when she was ten years old, over two hundred years ago and not a single person had ever noticed them, except Bucky.

Her magic dove into his mind at this thought and pulled up the memory of when he’d been in a cell and she’d been cutting his hair. Her mother had wanted her to be useful and tasked her with the project to keep her out of trouble. While she’d worked, Bucky had noticed the one remaining scar on the back of her hand and asked about it.

“Oh that? It’s nothing,” she said, “A long ago punishment. My own fault.”

“A punishment?” He asked, brow furrowed, “Someone scarred your hand as a punishment?”

“It was my fault,” she said again, gently snipping the hair around his face. She told him the story of her first time shaving her father’s face and tried to laugh off the ending. It was long ago. She’d deserved it. Hadn’t she hurt her father first?

“I’m glad he’s dead,” Bucky said, “What kind of lunatic cuts up his kid?”

“I… deserved it, though,” she stopped cutting his hair, “It was my fault.”

“You were a child. He could have scolded you after the first nick and then taken over himself. Why the hell would he slice into your hand?”

“He had every right--”

“I hate your old man,” Bucky cut her off, “I hope one day you learn to hate him too.”

She paused, blinking at him, and then returned to cutting his hair. She lowered her voice to a faint whisper.

“I’ve hated him for many years,” she confided, “But he was my father and I loved him. Isn’t that what love is? Caring for someone even when they do bad things?”

“Maybe sometimes,” he told her, “But not when they keep hurting you time and again and never even apologize. Not when it’s someone who is supposed to protect you and they are the one you need protection from.”

Jak let the memory go free in Bucky’s mind and watched his eyes widen. She continued shaving his face as she unwound more memories of their time together. She reached his neck and delicately moved the blade over the thin skin as she moved on from selfishly reviewing their shared memories and let him ruminate on other events of his life, doing her best to steer clear of his years as the Winter Soldier, but knowing he remembered them anyway.

When she had finished his shave and was washing his face with cold water, he looked her directly in the eye and then glanced at the camera. He carefully reached his hand up, hiding it behind her body so the camera wouldn’t see, and pressed his rough fingertips to her cheek.

“Ruth,” he said softly and then shook his head, “That’s not your name anymore.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a name,” she smiled at him, “But you can call me Jak if you want. It’s the name that I’ve had the most freedom with in centuries. But in front of my father you have to use the name Jessica if you call me anything at all.”

“Jak? It doesn’t quite suit you, but I like it.” 

He smiled, but dropped it a moment later, aware of the camera. He lowered his hand from her face and let her finish her task. When she sat back and scrutinized her work, he sat very still, pretending for her father’s watching eyes that he was not himself and that all she’d done was shave his face.

“There,” she said, “You look much less scruffy now.”

“Thank you,” he said, voice raw with emotion, but face stoic.

“Any time,” she nodded, hiding her hand with the angle of her body as she squeezed his hand, “Now, I’m not going to cut your hair because I think it’s nice, but we’ve got to give it a proper wash. If I give you the shampoo and conditioner, can you manage that on your own?”

“I’m not supposed to let you out of my sight while your father is away,” he reminded her. She rolled her eyes.

“I guess we’ll turn the kitchen sink into a hair salon then. Come on.”

There were more cameras in the kitchen, but she doubted they would pick up sound. She and Bucky talked freely while she washed his hair, though she always made sure to block his mouth from the camera in case her father read his lips, or wondered why the Winter Soldier was suddenly so chatty.

It made her heart feel light to have a conversation with someone apart from Uriah for once and it was even better that it was Bucky. She’d forgotten how fun he was to talk to and how much they’d enjoyed their time together even when they were in the cold, dark dungeon of a Hydra facility. 

“I’m almost done with the conditioner,” she told him, “Then we’ll comb it out, but after that I won’t really have any other excuses to interact with you beyond the mindless rambling I’ve been doing for the past few weeks.”

“We’re going to get out of here,” Bucky told her, “Both of us are going to get the hell away from your looney bin dad. We just have to be more careful than the last time I had my brain.”

“Yes, no more saving me heroically from his wrath, got it?” She told him sternly, “I think I undid some of what my mother did to your brain, but I don’t want to give my father the chance to find out if those trigger words still work.”

“Me either,” he grunted, “But if you’re going to make me promise not to try and save you, then you’d better be careful not to get in any situations where you need saving. Got it?”

“I am his perfect demure Jessica,” she fluttered her eyelashes innocently, “What fault could he find with me?”

“Historically speaking, it seems like he’s been able to find many faults with you. Completely unfounded faults, but who knows what will set that guy off. I swear he was going to have a stroke the first time I came back from trying to kidnap you empty handed. He seems like he’s just always burning with rage and ready to let loose.”

“I suppose, if you live as long as he has then you get frustrated easily,” she repeated one of her mother’s common defenses of her father’s anger.

“You’d think it would make you have more patience, having seen so much of the way things work already,” Bucky rolled his eyes, “Besides, it doesn’t seem like the Asgardians have that problem. Although the one did really leave a mark on my shoulder with his knife.”

“Asgardians plural?” She asked, frowning. “Other than Thor?”

“Yeah,” Bucky watched her face, “Loki. He was at the Compound too, right? He stabbed me when I tried to kidnap you.”

Jak felt something in her mind begin to unravel, but the sharp pain it caused pounded against her skull too hard to follow the trail further. She squeezed her eyes closed and pursued it anyway, but Bucky’s voice pulled her back.

“You could put back my memories, but not your own?”

“My father’s magic is much stronger and more recently cast than the spell my mother put on you that my father has just been reactivating,” she finished washing his hair and handed him a towel. “Loki, the guy who tried to take over the world? He was at the Compound?”

“I think he was on probation or something. I don’t know,” he regarded her curiously, “You really don’t remember?”

“No,” she rubbed her forehead, “My father must have ripped him out of my brain.”

“Huh,” he paused for a long moment as if debating something, “Well… uh, it didn’t seem like you and Loki got along very well anyway,” he cleared his throat, “Sorry about kidnapping you, by the way.”

“I’m sorry you got stabbed trying to do so,” she let the distant, misty memories of Loki go and smiled at Bucky. “Like you said, we’re going to find a way to get out of here. And I think we should do it tonight.”

“At the ball?!”

“What better cover for an escape than a party?” She discreetly put her hand on his knee, “But now that I have you back, I won’t go without you. So… what do you say?”

“Tell me what you have planned.”

Chapter Text

"I don't even care that we aren't wearing our own faces," Stark said as he admired his reflection in the mirror on the elevator ceiling, "We look damn good."

"Speak for yourself," Rogers muttered avoiding looking at the mirror. Loki hid a grin. He had intentionally given Captain America a rather ugly face that looked perpetually greasy and acne ridden. He had not been able to convince the captain to stay home from their mission, so he'd done the next best thing.

The rest of them had average, forgettable faces atop their evening wear and would blend right in with the wealthy crowd they'd be infiltrating. Loki himself had forgone his signature green color for fear of being recognized and wore an all black tux with golden cufflinks, one of which doubled as a communicator. Romanoff was also in all black, though she wore a communicator disguised as a red gemstone necklace. Stark wore all gold, with red shoes, and a fake earring that doubled as his communicator. And Rogers wore a simple navy tux with a white shirt and glasses with a built in communicator.

Thor had wanted to come along, but everyone decided that he was not the best option for a stealth mission and sent him to investigate the Canadian forest more in hopes that he might stumble into Uriah Fenice's house.

Sam Wilson had also wanted to come to help Rogers in case Bucky Barnes was anywhere nearby, but Tony had only been able to secure four tickets and refused to give up his own because he claimed he was the only one who knew how to behave at an affluent party. Loki disagreed, having grown up in a palace, but he had his own reasons not to give up his ticket that no one questioned. Rogers was equally persistent, though no one was sure if it was because he was looking for Jak or he was looking for Barnes. As for Romanoff… no one could imagine going on a covert operation without the Black Widow.

So the Falcon was sent with Thor to make sure he didn't violate any international laws. Or blow the house to smiterines without properly searching it when he found it.

"Remember," Romanoff applied lipstick, studying her movements in the ceiling mirror, "We find Fenice, we gather intel, but we don't ask about Jak. We don't ask about Bucky. We don't ask about his missing Russian cook. We don't give ourselves away. At the end of the evening, we tail him and we try to learn more."

"And I'll try to sneak off and find a computer," Stark grinned, "See what connections his company has to Project Rebirth."

"If any of us is caught acting suspicious, we aren't Avengers," Rogers nodded, "We're corporate spies working for Bruceberry Produce."

"And if I happen to learn that Fenice is Jaklyn's kidnapper, I'll take him up to the roof for a little chat," Loki muttered to himself, already annoyed with the pre-mission chatter from the Avengers. They should have just sent him alone. He would have been far more efficient without them there.

The elevator dinged and let them out into an overly glamorous ballroom. There were even ice sculptures.

People dressed in jewel tones stood around, mostly chatting or exclaiming over the beautifully arranged food. Soft music filtered to their ears from the corner, where a string quartet was set up. Loki surveyed the space, scanning for Uriah Fenice. He'd burned the man's image into his mind and intended to be the first to get to him and fish for information. If not him, then he wanted Romanoff to get to Fenice. Given the way she'd uncovered his own plans in the past, she was the only one Loki trusted to get the job done properly.

"Alright people, let's schmooze," Stark circled his finger and then pointed forward as he walked toward the open bar. Rogers rolled his eyes and departed from the group as well.

"We can't kill him while Jak's still missing," Romanoff said quietly, standing next to Loki.

"I won't. Not until we get the information we need," Loki huffed.

"I was talking to myself," the Widow shot him a side glance before she swiped a champagne flute from a passing waiter and disappeared into the crowd.

Doing his best to blend in, Loki put on a smile and joined a group in conversation about the rare bird they were all donating money toward saving by being at the ball. He knew nothing about this bird, but luckily none of the other guests did either and he could easily pretend to be an expert on the subject while he observed the room around them.

"...and where is the man of hour anyway?" He asked a young looking woman who was dripping diamonds and wore a dress that revealed swaths of contradictory age-spotted skin. "I haven't seen Uriah in years! I was hoping to catch up with him tonight."

"Oh Mr. Fenice hasn't arrived yet," the woman assured him, aggressively pawing at his arm, "He's always fashionably late to these things. But you know, I heard that he has a surprise guest he's bringing with him tonight. That should be exciting. These things can get so dull with the same old crowd to talk to, don't you think?"

"Honestly, they ought to start inviting in people off the streets just to liven things up a bit," Loki agreed, interested in whomever the mystery guest might be. "Any gossip on who Uriah's plus one is?"

"Not a clue! My husband is on the board and he said that Uriah hasn't said a word about it to him or anyone else on the board as far as he's aware. Poor Mr. Fenice often comes alone to these gatherings, or with only his bodyguard."

"And his bodyguard certainly doesn't provide any meaningful addition to the conversation," Loki said teasingly, wondering if his lure had caught.

"Oh heavens no! That man frightens me," the woman clung even tighter to Loki's arm, "Such a lifeless stare, don't you think? I am sure he must be expensive to be so well disciplined."

"Quite right. Remind me, do we know what agency he comes from? I've had a few security threats myself lately and I'm sure a guard dog like that would make me feel safer."

"You are funny," the woman's eyes sparkled, but when Loki didn't respond she leaned in close to whisper conspiratorially, "You really don't know? I thought everyone in Uriah's inner circle had heard by now."

"As I said, it's been a few years since I've really been in the inner circle," Loki rolled his eyes, "Politics in my company have kept me overseas."

"Unions?" The woman asked sympathetically, "I just don't understand them. Why would we pay them more to work less? It doesn't make any sense. I think people just don't have the work ethic that they used to. My husband, you know my Daniel, don't you? He is always complaining about the unreasonable demands of today's youth."

"That sounds like Daniel," Loki laughed, not having an inkling of who Daniel was beyond being married to this conveniently chatty woman. "But I must know this secret about Uriah's bodyguard. You have me on the edge of my seat."

Loki had carefully taken slow steps with each sentence spoken to back away from the rest of the group they had been conversing with. There was no one within earshot to stop the woman from spilling secrets that weren't hers and she eagerly plowed onward.

"Evidently, he's an old tool of the, ehem, company Uriah worked with before," she fidgeted with her necklace and looked over her shoulder, "If you ask me, it's a bit un-American to keep up with those practices, but I suppose all the boys do like to have their little club. And my Daniel has inherited his membership from his father, which is, of course, a great honor."

"It truly is," Loki nodded, "And excuse me for gnawing at this same bone, but you can't possibly mean that Uriah's bodyguard is…" he trailed off meaningfully.

"He is," the woman nodded and then giggled, "But you can't tell anyone I told you so!"

"I wouldn't dare," Loki crossed his heart, still unsatisfied with her answer, but not willing to risk pushing too hard. To his ears it sounded as if the bodyguard in question was the Winter Soldier. But was that because it was what the woman was implying or because it was information that Loki was looking for? He couldn't be sure, but when he excused himself from her company, he scratched the back of his head and spoke into his cufflink.

"Uriah isn't here yet. I think his bodyguard may be Barnes, but I haven't been able to confirm. Be prepared," Loki was loath to spread the information on to Rogers, who would probably start foaming at the mouth as he frantically searched for his former friend, but he didn't want any of the Avengers to be caught off guard if the Winter Soldier appeared and killed them.

"He wouldn't bring him out in the open like this," the Captain responded, "People might recognize him from the news or-"

"If it is him, these people already know," Loki cut him off, deciding to focus on the elevator until Uriah Fenice arrived, "And they don't care."

"I get the feeling Ultron didn't take out all of Hydra like we thought he did," Romanoff said, "I just talked to someone wearing an octopus broach right above a Reichsadler pin with the swastika filed off of it."

"Yikes," Stark said. He'd disappeared from the ballroom, presumably to find a computer, "If these people are Hydra, we're gonna wanna get pictures. I'll see if I can steal the security footage while I'm snooping."

"We want to be certain before we start arresting people," Rogers said, "Loki, Romanoff, you're our best manipulators-"

"Ouch," Romanoff said at the same time Loki said "thank you."

"-find out more details. Don't be obvious about it though. Act like you're one of them."

"Obviously," Loki and Romanoff said at the same time before moving back into conversations. Loki would help them discover if this was a pit of Hydra supporters, but only because it furthered his goal of finding Jak. The Avengers were used to tracking down Hydra bases. They'd probably do a better job of finding her if she was hidden with the terrorist organization. Still, he kept an eye on the elevator to wait for Fenice's arrival.

"Yeah, be discreet guys," Stark chirped in the communicators, "Maybe try asking if they have family in Argentina!"

"Do you have any family in…?" Loki started to ask a middle aged man before Romanoff told Stark to shut up and stop being dumb. Not understanding Midgardian history and politics, Loki wasn't sure what exactly he had missed, but was now floundering for a way to finish his question.

"What were you saying?" The man asked.

"Err, I was just asking where your family hails from," Loki smiled, "Mine is from… Austria."

"Beautiful country, that," the man nodded, "I suppose mine goes back to that area on one side. But my father married into a South American family."

"Ah, really? How interesting! What part of South America?"

"Ha! Good one," the man laughed and patted his shoulder, the skin of his hands oddly wrinkled. "Have you had these hors devours? I'm not sure what they're made of but, by the gods, they are delicious."

Loki took one of the hors devours and agreed that they were delicious. "Perhaps chicken?" He suggested, trying to keep the conversation going so he could further his interrogations. After a moment, he realized that the man had sworn on the gods. Plural. That was unusual of modern Midgardians, wasn't it?

"As if Uriah would let us eat poultry at one of his events," another man in the circle chuckled, derailing Loki's train of thought, "Not to mention it's in poor taste at an event to save a 'rare endangered bird'. Caterers might ask questions."

"Nobody likes a nosy caterer," the first man nodded, "Especially if they make food as good as this and you have to let them go."

Was it just his imagination, or did everything these people say have an ominous tone to it? Why would a room full of wealthy people be speaking so secretively and ominously if they were not part of a shady organization?

"Yes, poor taste," Loki murumered, "Did either of you hear the news that Fenice is bringing a surprise guest? Any ideas who it could be?"

"A guest apart from that damned soldier? I'll believe it when I see it."

"He kept mentioning it at the board brunch this morning, but he was being cryptic about it, probably thought he was funny," the first man said.

"He has quite the sense of humor," Loki rolled his eyes, playing along and deciding to go out on a limb, "I suppose he thinks it's funny to drag that soldier around with him everywhere he goes. I've heard that the soldier isn't as stable as he used to be either. Liable to snap at any moment."

"Yes, I'm sure he's broken. How else would Uriah ever have wrestled him away from Alexander?" The second man laughed. "And now he brings him to us like a rabid wolf on a thin leash."

Loki stayed with them a few moments longer, but excused himself when they started talking about golf. He updated the team.

"They're referring to the bodyguard as 'the soldier' and evidently they think he's unstable and has been taken away from someone called Alexander."

"Pierce," Rogers breathed, "Alexander Pierce."

"Yep," Romanoff chimed in, "One of these women just told me I had 'beautiful aryan features'. Thanks for the blonde hair, Loki. Someone else asked me if any of my family had been personally acquainted with Johann Schmidt and I don't think he meant the Belgian pianist."

"Well that's suspicious," Stark said, "And so is this company. They hold charity events for endangered birds every year, donating millions to organizations dedicated to protecting them. Legit organizations, but here's the fun part: the rare birds they donate toward every year aren't real birds. They're just made up species."

"But do they all know that or is Uriah stealing from them?" Rogers asked.

"Some of these people do seem concerned about the birds," Loki commented, "So it's possible they don't know. But then why are they all starting to look like Hydra? Why would Hydra care about rare birds in the first place? And what does this have to do with Jaklyn?"

"Is Fenice here yet? We've been at this for an hour."

"Oh! Oh! I see a Rolls pulling up out front," Stark said, "And… yep, that's him. Good detective work, that's Bucky driving."

"Anyone else with them?" Loki asked, "He's supposed to have a special guest."

"There's a woman, but she's turned away from the camera," Stark typed away at the keyboard, "Yeah, no, I'm not getting angles of her. I'll keep trying."

"We need to get Uriah away from Bucky," Rogers said, "Then maybe we can break whatever magic he's using on his brain and get him away from here."

"If it is truly Bucky, then the odds that Uriah knows where Jak is have just gone up," Loki stepped closer to the elevator doors, "You go after your precious Barnes, I'll have a chat with Uriah."

"Let's not forget mystery woman," Romanoff said, "We don't know what her play is yet."

"Elevator is approaching," Stark said, "Loki, don't jump them. Let them get comfortable first. He's not going to tell us anything if he's spooked."

"I'm just watching," Loki hissed, "I've been doing this sort of thing for centuries, Stark. Leave me be."

The doors to the elevator finally opened. Barnes stepped out first, sweeping his steely gaze across the room. He looked at Loki for a moment longer than necessary, but could not see through the spell. Next came Uriah, holding his arm back into the elevator to escort his guest out. At first all Loki could see of her was her long red hair and the purple dress she wore, but she looked at her escort with a smile and turned her face toward Loki.

He felt his breath catch in his chest. She noticed him out of the corner of her eye and he was tempted to drop his disguise right then, but she looked back at Uriah and was soon enveloped into the crowd as the man at her side began introducing her to those around him as Jessica Fenice. Loki barely heard the "pleased to meet yous" as he watched her.

"It's Jak," Romanoff said in his ear. "He has Jak with him. And she has her magic."

Loki quickly turned his eyes to her wrist. Apart from a pale strip of skin that looked like a watch tan line, her arm was bare. For a moment he felt panic seize him. Had she actually been kidnapped? Or had she run away?

But then he saw the way she smiled - that grimace of politeness and the fear in her eyes when she looked at Uriah - and he knew that she might be able to use her magic freely, but she was more a prisoner than she'd ever been.

Chapter Text

"You haven't been in polite society in years, so I understand if you are not as adept at being the charming daughter you used to be," Uriah told Jak in the elevator ride up to the ballroom. "The rules have changed since 1940s Germany, but this particular group is a bit old fashioned so it will be a good test run for you."

"I'm looking forward to it," she smiled winningly at him.

"I'll direct one of the young men in the room over to dance with you at some point, but you'll do the first dance with Sergeant Barnes. Everyone here will know what he is, but it will still make you appealing if you're seen dancing with another man first. Perhaps it will stir up some jealousy in the sons of my friends."

"How exciting to be able to dance again," she sighed, not faking her wistfulness. She'd missed twirling around in a ballroom, even though historically her partners had not been fun to dance with. She was truly excited to hear that her first dance would be with Bucky. He was dressed up for the occasion in a suit, with his hair pulled back into a low ponytail. His metal arm was on full display, as the suit jacket was missing a sleeve. Jak wished she'd left the scruff on his face, but he was still a sight to behold. She also wished she'd had the chance to ask him if she could paint over the stupid red star on his arm, but she hadn't been thinking of it earlier.

"My past is common knowledge amongst most of these people, but it is still best to be subtle. Don't say Hydra, don't mention that you and I are hundreds of years old. You're twenty-seven and have been in school or traveling for the past few years and have not been able to attend these types of things with me before."

"What did I study in school?" She asked, trying not to sound bitter. She'd never been to a real school. She'd been hoping to get a GED and then maybe a degree in something after she got her probation sorted out.

"You'll tell them you studied history."

"Wouldn't it make more sense for me to have a business degree if I'm going to be part of your company?"

"Yes, but what if someone asks you a question about managing a business? Or about my business specifically? You wouldn't know anything," he chuckled as the elevator dinged, "Tell them history. You should be able to answer a few questions about that, considering you've lived through it, right?"

"Right," she swallowed nervously and waited for Bucky to get out of the elevator. Her father led her out and immediately began waving to people and introducing her to everyone around them. She felt a prickle on the back of her neck like she was being watched, but when she looked around she didn't see any familiar faces.

After introductions had been made to the most elite attendees, her father made a speech about the importance of preserving a bird she'd never heard of and how wonderful it was to have all his friends there. Then he announced that the dancing would start and Bucky swooped in and gently took her elbow.

"Shall we?" He asked, scanning the room around them as he pulled her to the dance floor. "I'll warn you I can only sway in an almost graceful way."

"I could teach you," she looked up at him, but he still wasn't looking down at her. She carefully moved his hands to the correct position and began a simple waltz. The music that the string quartet played was old. The first time she'd heard it was watching a ballet in Imperial Russia. It didn't sound quite as grand played by a quartet as it had played by an entire orchestra, but she still enjoyed it.

"You're pretty good at this," he finally looked down at her. "And you look… wow. You look really nice, Ruth - sorry - Jak - sorry - Jessica."

"And one, two, three, one, two, three, and we turn," she did her best to make it look like he was leading, though she was nudging him in the right direction. She managed to steer him so that he was facing the back door. "What do you think? Does it look like a plausible escape route?"

"It leads to the bathrooms," he nodded, "And the fire escape stairs."

"Is it more suspicious to leave one at a time or together?" She turned him back so that he could keep an eye on her father. She was startled to find that her new view was of a man in an all black tux watching her intently. She hoped he was not one of the suitors that Uriah planned to send her way.

"We'll go together. I'm under orders not to take my eyes off you except when you're actually in the bathroom and even then I'm supposed to stand right outside," he looked back at her, "Convenient, right?"

"I'll use my magic to tear my dress or get someone to spill something on me," she said, though she'd already gone over this part of the plan with him.

"I still don't understand why you can't just say you need to use the toilet," he raised a brow, "That's a normal thing to do, right?"

"For most people," she clutched his hand tighter, "My mother always made sure I used the lavatory before a ball and that I did not go again until after. I was meant to be a display piece and I cannot be displayed from the lavatory. Of course, if there is a slight emergency that makes me a less appealing display piece, then it would be wrong of me not to see the restroom to fix myself."

"Your parents," Buckly shook his head, "were seriously messed up people."

"I can't disagree with you about that," she sighed and noticed a group of young men staring at her and Bucky. One smiled and waved when she made eye contact and then he hastily went to speak with her father. A hopeful suitor no doubt. It seemed Uriah had spread the word that he wanted his daughter to be wed.

"I wish I could just dance with you all night," she said, looking up at Bucky.

"Not all night," he grinned when his face was out of sight of Uriah. "We want to get out of here at some point, right?"

"The sooner, the better. How long do you think we should wait until we go?"

"Dance with a couple of other guys-"

"Ugh."

"Hey, listen, I'd rather keep you all to myself tonight, but that might look a little suspicious, don't you think?"

Her stomach gave an odd flutter. Was he being flirtatious?

"Fine," she squeezed his arm, "I'll dance with two of those boys, but then I'll make it look like one of them steps on my dress and tears it. Then we're off."

"I've got the keys to the car we drove here, but there's a tracking device in that vehicle. We'll want to make a stop at the valet station." They'd already planned that, but it was comforting to hear it echoed back.

"And the passports?" She asked, hearing the music start to slow.

"No luck. I wasn't able to spot any, but we didn't expect people to bring their passports to a gala anyway, right?"

"Right. So we'll hide out in town tonight and we'll find something I can cast an illusion on to look like passports and get out of the country tomorrow," she regarded him carefully, "You're sure you don't want to go to the Avengers Compound? My memory is fuzzy, but I know Steve was worried about you."

"He's got other stuff going on," Bucky dismissed, "I want to spend some time remembering who I am and what I've done before I go back and complicate everything for him. You know I'm not going to get away scot-free. I don't want to be locked up in legal issues just yet."

"I can't blame you for that," she remembered when she'd been arrested and what a headache it had been. And Bucky had killed far more people than she had.

"So, I'm thinking… Europe?" He suggested, "But if you want to go to New York, I'll get you there before I disappear."

"You know…" she considered the fact that she was free of her probation at the moment, free to use her magic however she wanted. And she was about to be free of her father. Did she really want to go back to mopping floors and reporting to the FBI? Getting slapped on the wrist for every tiny misdeed? Her brain hurt trying to remember too many details of the past few years with the Avengers, but she could recall that she'd been slowly working on getting rid of her magic dampening cuff. And it had been a tortuous process. She didn't want to join the Avengers and the government didn't want her to have supernatural abilities if she wasn't a superhero.

"Europe sounds nice," she finally said as the song came to an end.

"I'm sure it can be," he smirked, "When you aren't fighting in a World War or locked in a cell. Let's look at its better features together, yeah?"

"Yeah," she nodded, "Now wipe the smile off your face, Winter Soldier."

"Yes ma'am," he straightened out his expression and escorted her back to her father.

"A beautiful waltz," Uriah applauded her, "Now, my friend Daniel has a son your age who is eager to dance with you, Jessica."

"Of course," she curtsied to the young man standing next to her father. He wasn't ugly, necessarily, but the Hydra symbol tie pin he wore made him lose what good looks he had. His watery smile didn't help either, nor did his sweaty palms.

"A pleasure," he took her hand and kissed it, "To the dance floor!"

"Yes," Jak hesitated, looking behind him at a man with green eyes who stared directly at her. He flicked a glance at her father and when she looked also and then back, the man disappeared, his green familiar eyes poking at memories she couldn't access.

"Ms. Fenice?" the young man holding her hand asked.

"Sorry, I… I thought that the ice sculpture was going to fall, but a waiter steadied it. Let's dance!"

Chapter Text

"Let's just grab her and run," Stark was saying, "We can learn more about Uriah once we get her to safety. Maybe she can tell us more and then we'll be prepared when we hand him his ass."

"We can't make any rash moves," Rogers argued, "If all of these people are Hydra and Uriah has magic and the Winter Soldier is here, then we might not be able to sneak off with Jak as easily as we'd like."

"So what's the game plan?" Romanoff asked, "Obviously we aren't just here to learn more about Uriah Fenice anymore. We're taking Jak home one way or another."

"Even if 'another way' is that I have to kill every one of the people in this room," Loki warned.

"This man is head over heels in love," Stark sang, "Ready to risk it all for her."

"How do we even know that she wants to come with us?" Rogers proposed, echoing Loki's thoughts from before. "She may be here of her own free will and if she is then it's going to be much harder to get her back."

"That's when it becomes a violation of probation issue and not a kidnapping issue," Stark sucked in a hiss of breath, "Let's hope that's not the case because I was really starting to like her and I don't want to have to throw Jak in a cell."

"She is a prisoner here," Loki snapped, "Can you not tell from the fear on her face? She might have her magic, but she doesn't want to be here."

"So we go talk to her," Rogers decided, "I'll introduce myself to Uriah. It looks like there's a line forming to dance with her. Maybe I can talk to her on the dance floor and figure out what's going on."

"Or I could," Loki suggested, partially out of jealousy and partially because he just wanted to talk to Jak after two months of being separated. He missed her and it was killing him to be in the same room and not be able to talk to her.

"Sorry, but I need you on standby to deal with Uriah if this comes down to a fight. You're the only one with magic and we'll need you ready to handle him if he has magic too."

"Fine," Loki wanted to, but couldn't, argue with the logic of the plan. He doubted Captain America would be particularly helpful if a magical duel broke out.

"I'm nearly done here," Stark added, "I'll get the last of this data copied and then head out to the dance floor. Maybe if Cap-in-disguise isn't enough to tempt Jak to dance then the illustrious Wayne Bruceberry will be."

"That's all well and good, boys, but what's our plan for the brainwashed guard dog?"

"Widow, do you think you can distract him if we decide to get Jak out in a hurry?" Rogers sighed over the line, "Preferably without permanently injuring him."

"Distract him as in stab someone or distract him as in flash him my ankles?" Romanoff teased.

"Whatever you think will get the Winter Soldier out of the way."

They broke off the discussion and went about their tasks. Loki stayed close to Uriah by joining in a conversation happening nearby. It was a group of men and women discussing politics and their disdain for a certain politician and her ideas about unions. They were all appalled at how many workforces were unionizing and Loki joined in their complaints about the unfairness of equality with them.

"And by the gods, I will move my business overshores if any of my employees ever try to unionize," one man said, reminding Loki that he'd heard someone else swear by plural gods.

"Gods?" He asked, "Not God?"

"Yes gods," the man clapped Loki on the shoulder, "Perhaps your family stems more from the Führer's side of things, but most in this room stood with Johann over Adolph."

"Ah, yes, of course," Loki turned on his communicator, "Johann Schmidt. I am still young. Remind me of the main differences between Schmidt and Hitler?"

Rogers chimed in his ear immediately, catching on that Loki was requesting information. At least the captain was quick, even if he was irritating."Schmidt was obsessed with the occult. He's also known as Red Skull. He found the Tesseract in Norway and used it to make powerful weapons."

"Schmidt was a visionary, driven by more than the idea of cleansing," the man in front of Loki smiled, "He was in tune with the underlying forces of our world and other worlds. What others believed to be nothing but superstition, he knew was science."

"Ah," Loki nodded, "Yes, I remember. And he was… not monotheistic, right?"

"No offense, son, but I honestly question anyone who is in this day in age. Schmidt was right, wasn't he?" The man grinned, "Norse gods walking on earth? Schmidt knew. He knew Odin's court would descend from Asgard one day and claim their rule over us."

"Right…" Loki hated to downplay his own abilities, but the obvious had to be pointed out, "Except, Loki didn't exactly end up ruling us, did he?"

"A mere sample of his power," the man assured him, "The true believers among us in this room know that he allowed himself to be stopped. He will be back and he'll bring an army of valkyrie with him. And when he does, Hydra will come out of the shadows and swear our fealty to him."

"Of course," Loki nodded, "His goals are, no doubt, aligned with Hydra's."

"Did you not hear his speech in Germany?" The man laughed and swiped a passing glass of champagne, "He was practically quoting Johann Schmidt!"

"I shall have to review the footage," he cringed inwardly, hoping the man was exaggerating, but doubting it. He knew the performance he'd put on in Germany was a grim, cruel bit. He would not be surprised to learn that he'd said things that Hydra agreed with, but he tried to comfort himself with the fact that he had spoken under the motivation of keeping the Mad Titan happy. If only the words had not come from his mouth and from his rage toward Odin, he might have been able to forgive himself for the whole matter.

He left that conversation and moved on to another group who were closer to Uriah. They were, conveniently, discussing the Avengers. It was no great leap to ask them what they thought of Thor and himself.

"I had hoped that Loki would lead us into a new age," Loki said glumly, "Yet, there he is, living with the very individuals who stopped his reign short!"

"Do not lose hope," a woman told him, "You saw what he could do, didn't you? He had power over minds. He could force people to see the truth with his magic."

With Thanos' scepter, he amended silently, but allowed her to continue.

"I believe he is taking over the Avengers from the inside. They will be his and Thor's valkyries when they ascend to their thrones."

"I like that idea," Loki told them, "It does make me feel better about the whole situation. I had heard Uriah has a distaste for Loki in particular and I worried that we ought to all forgo Schmidt's ideas of the Norse pantheon regaining their rule on earth."

"Uriah is a brilliant creature," the woman's expression said she disagreed with the words coming from her mouth, "But he is not fond of attention being taken from him. He and Johann Schmidt were never true partners because Uriah, back when he went by another name, always believed that he should be the power that Hydra worked to support. He still wants his place on the throne, and until the gods make their move, he is the power we are behind."

The alcohol must have been strong, or else Loki must have given himself a particularly trustworthy face. He doubted anyone would be telling him as much information as they were otherwise.

Uriah had been alive during the 1940s. He'd gone by another name before. He was hovering around Jaklyn protectively and he was at odds with some members of Hydra. The puzzle pieces were beginning to look familiar and Loki was afraid of what he'd find when he snapped them together. Moreso, he was afraid of what they meant for Jak.

He turned his attention to her as she twirled on the dance floor. Her eyes kept anxiously darting around the room, but always landed on the Winter Soldier. Loki's heart skipped a beat when he noticed that the way she was looking at James Barnes was the same way she'd looked at him the first time he'd kissed her. A simmering rage began to grow in his gut at the sight of it, though he scolded himself to keep it under control.

It had been two months since they'd seen each other. Jak and Loki had been together for a handful of weeks and rarely saw each other for much of that time when she was going back and forth to the city for her talks with the FBI. Perhaps she had moved on.

"But with the mind-controlled-cyborg-man?!" He hissed to himself. Someone looked at him in confusion and he quickly pasted on a smile and stepped away.

It didn't make sense. The Winter Soldier was still the Winter Soldier. He was not "Bucky". He was not Steve Rogers' best friend. He was an assassin programmed to kill on command and do very little else. He was more a robot than Vision. There was no way he had wooed Jaklyn.

However, Jak had mentioned that she'd known Bucky before he'd become the Winter Soldier. She hadn't elaborated on how well she'd known him, Loki realized. Was it possible she had been in love with Bucky Barnes seventy-some years previous? With the way she was looking at him, it was more than possible, it was likely.

And this thought only made the rage in Loki's gut begin to boil.

"I have an idea," he said into his communicator, "And I am already anticipating you all disagreeing with it, but it will work and it will force Uriah Fenice's hand."

"We're not doing anything rash, remember?" Rogers said urgently.

"What are you planning?" Romanoff's voice was still calm, but when Loki looked across the room to where she stood, poised to distract Barnes, he saw the panic on her face.

"Loki, don't go off script, we've got a solid plan, let's stick to it," Stark said, "I've almost got everything here. Give me five minutes and-"

"For this to work, I can have no ties to the Avengers. Be prepared to get Jak out if everything goes horribly wrong. I'm going silent," Loki destroyed his communicator before he could think twice. After he did it, he regretted the decision, but decided he was going through with the plan he'd just concocted, and he was going to amaze the entire crowd.

They wanted the gods to stand with their group? Well, it was convenient there was one already at the party who was ready to reign over them with his mighty power.

Chapter Text

"Oh. Kaaay."

Jak cringed as she listened to her dance partner finish his appallingly racist tirade. She'd heard worse decades ago and it had been evil then. Now, in a time when people were expected to be better educated, she was doubly shocked and sickened. Despite her best efforts to placate her father's associates, she couldn't muster a single polite thing to say to the man and breathed a sigh of relief when the dance ended a moment later.

"You really are a beautiful dancer," the man told her with a bow, "I hope I get to see more of you soon. I'll talk to your father about setting up a date."

"I don't think that's necessary," she wrenched her hand out of his, leaving him with a surprised face and made her way back to her father. He smiled at her.

"What did you think?"

"Please, Father, do not make me pursue that one," she shivered at the thought.

"Whatever you wish, darling daughter," he chucked her chin, "You told me before that you were displeased with my previous selection of potential husbands. We shall find you one that you like. A treat for your obedience."

"Thank you," she whispered, knowing that he would, in the end, get the final say in any husband she "chose".

"This charming fellow is next," Uriah steered her toward an attractive boy with blonde curls. He had an aloof look about him, but Jak reminded herself that she only had to dance with him long enough to make it look like he stepped on her dress. She curtsied and he all but dragged her to the dance floor.

"I hear you've just finished with your schooling," he commented as a tango started. "I admire an educated woman."

Jak did her best not to recoil as he pulled her close to him and then slowly moved to the music. She hated the tango. Probably because she'd never had a partner who didn't try to touch her in an inappropriate manner before. As this man's hand slowly caressed her bare back instead of resting where it was supposed to, she added him to the mental list of disgusting men she'd danced with over the centuries.

"Yes, I studied history," she told him, "Have you been to school?"

"Oxford," he chuckled, "I studied Experimental Psychology. Great fun."

"How interesting."

"You aren't going to ask me to analyze you?" His fingers played piano on her spinal column, "Every girl who learns I studied psych wants me to analyze them."

"No, thank you-"

"You're scared," he decided, "I can feel how fast your heartbeat is with our chests together like this. And you're trying not to show how much you like it when I touch you. Don't worry, I won't tell your old man… it'll be our secret."

Jak sent a "save me" look to Bucky and he took a step toward them, but was waylaid by a blonde woman stepping in front of him. The convenient thing about the Winter Soldier, however, was that he did not have to conform to the rules of polite society and he simply pushed the woman away and continued toward Jak.

She discreetly shot a bolt of magic toward the hem of her dress and moved it under the Oxford boy's foot. He trod on it and tore it. He stopped dancing and backed up to examine the damage.

"Oh no," Jak tsked, "I need to take care of this, excuse me."

"You can't just ask Uriah to magic it up for you?" The young man protested, "We aren't finished with our dance yet."

"Sorry buddy," Bucky pushed the nuisance out of the way and offered his arm to Jak, "You're not on her dance card anymore. Move on or you'll be moved."

Confronted with the imposing figure of the feared Winter Soldier, the boy nodded and hurried off before he had a chance to find out what Bucky would do to move him.

"I'll be right back," Jak assured her father as she passed him, "I'll just take care of this and powder my nose and then be right back on the dance floor with the next charming young man. Please have him ready for me."

"Do hurry, Jessica, there seems to be quite a line forming," he father said in a tone that might sound teasing to anyone else, but sounded like a threat to her.

"Wait!" A voice roared over the crowd, "No one go anywhere just yet. I have an announcement to make."

All eyes turned to where a man stood on the refreshments table. He was the green eyed fellow who had been staring at her earlier and she stopped walking to look at him even as Bucky tried to pull her along.

"I don't know what this guy is on, but this is our only chance," he whispered, "We've got to keep going."

Jak nodded, but when they looked toward their escape route, it was barricaded with green magic. Her head began to pound as it tried to remember events that her father had taken away. She knew that magic. She knew the voice speaking. She knew the eyes of the man on the table, but the pressure in her head wouldn't let her place him.

"It has recently come to my attention that Hydra is loyal to Loki, God of Asgard, Rightful King of Jotunheim and Midgard. Is this true?"

There were quiet murmurs amongst the crowd and several men began making their way toward the table, probably looking to get this crazy man under control. Jak looked at her father and saw his jaw tick as he glared daggers.

"I asked you a question," the man on the table roared, "Is your loyalty to me?!"

A green shimmer passed over the man and suddenly he looked taller and more intimidating. He had intricate leather and gold armor and glossy black hair under a golden, horned helmet. A wave of magic emanated off of him and ruffled the formal wear of the people nearest him. Several members of the crowd fell to their knees or started cheering. Uriah's fists were on fire and the blaze licked up his jacket sleeves.

"I have decided to gauge your fidelity tonight, Hydra, by walking among you… I must say, I am not impressed," Loki sneered at them and Jak's mind felt like it was being rolled in shards of glass. Her eyes prickled and her nose began to drip blood, but the memories remained locked away.

"You come together tonight to pat yourselves on the back over some bird," Loki scoffed, "Knowing full well that the real bird among you is Uriah Fenice. And not even a bird of prey at that, no. Uriah Fenice is a chicken! A common barnyard fowl! A hen pecking at pebbles when the throne is ripe for the taking. For my taking."

"Shit, what the hell is he even doing?" Bucky muttered, "I thought he was working with the Avengers now."

"I don't know," Jak wrapped her arms around herself, "But I don't want to stick around to find out. Let me see if I can do anything to this barrier."

She began poking at it with her own magic, but could not find any weak points. Frantically trying again, she considered alternative options. They could go out the window, she supposed, but she wasn't sure that her magic could carry them safely to the ground. The elevator was not barricaded, but it was on the other side of the room. To get to it they would have to walk right past Loki and that did not seem like the best idea, all things considered.

She looked over her shoulder and saw her father approaching the table, still flaming. If Loki didn't calm things down, the whole building might go up in smoke along with everyone in it. Her father had always had a penchant for arson.

"Can we punch a hole through the wall?" She wondered to Bucky, "Bypass the door barrier?"

"I can try, but it'll be loud. Let's see what Uriah does and if it distracts Loki enough for him to release this barrier."

"Loki, God of Lies," Uriah called out, stepping onto the table to be at eye level with his opponent, "I thank you for gracing my little soiree with your presence tonight. Truly it is an honor to have the brother of an Avenger here tonight."

More murmurs went through the crowd, less approving than before.

"If you were hoping for Thor, I'm afraid he's quite incapacitated," Loki pouted apologetically, "Along with the rest of those fools he calls allies. You didn't really think I was 'reformed', did you?"

"What brings you here tonight?" Uriah persisted.

"I've come to raise up my army of valkyries," Loki gestured to the crowd.

"I fear I have trouble believing you," Uriah turned to his audience and pressed a hand to his heart, "Especially knowing that you may have machinations for my own daughter."

Whispers spread through the crowd like fire in dry grass. A few people looked at Jak and she flinched, doing her best to not draw attention. Bucky moved between her and Loki's line of sight. It didn't stop her from seeing his wicked grin.

"A god deserves a virginal sacrifice now and again, don't you think?"

She squeezed her eyes closed and pressed her hand to Bucky's back to assure herself that he was there.

"Are you a…?" He asked.

"That is so not important now," she snapped, but he had briefly stopped her fear with his stupid question. It was long enough to remind her that Loki and her father were not the only ones who could fight with magic. She could defend herself if the need arose.

"What do you want with my daughter?" Uriah asked.

"Tonight? A dance and nothing more," Loki replied magnanimously. "After that, you and I shall meet and discuss our plans for this realm. I will need you, Uriah, as one of my generals as we conquer earth!"

A cheer went up.

"He wants to dance with me?" Jak shook her head. "No. I've had enough egotistical dance partners tonight. Punch the wall."

Bucky slammed his metal fist into the drywall and made a hole big enough for them to fit through. A cry sounded at the loud noise, but no one was fast enough to stop them as they slipped through the crack and sprinted for the stairs. Jak used magic to change her clothes as she ran, ditching the purple evening gown for functional black cargo pants and a black shirt. She swapped her delicate heels for boots and enchanted her hair into a ponytail, letting it regain its natural pink color. She changed Bucky's outfit to something similar, basically copying what he wore as the Winter Soldier, but with less leather.

"Hey, crazy idea," he said as they hurried down flights of stairs, "How many stories down do you think we have to get before we can safely jump?"

"Uh…" she panted, "How many have you jumped down before?"

"Five."

"I don't think my bones will handle that very well."

"You're probably right," he looked down the middle of the staircase. It was not as tall as some of the buildings in New York, but it was quite a ways to go. However, when they got down to five stories up, he swept her into his arms and leapt over the railing.

"Shitshitshitshitshit!" Jak screamed as they fell. He hit the ground and rolled with her forward. It didn't hurt nearly as much as she thought it would, but she'd certainly have bruises in the morning.

"Hey, friends, let's take this nice and slow," a familiar voice said when they entered the building lobby.

Jak looked up to see a man in a ridiculous gold suit. He had his hands up like he was trying to tame wild animals. Not waiting to find out what he wanted, Jak used her magic to fling him across the room. He hit a potted plant with a groan. Jak ignored him, took Bucky's hand and ran for the exit.

They stopped at the valet's stand and Bucky shoved the valet to the ground before grabbing a set of keys at random. He pushed a button on the fob and then they ran for the car that's headlights flashed at them.

Glass shattered from behind them and when Jak looked back her father was flying from the ballroom. The flames on his hands had become fiery wings that stretched out twice his body length as he flapped.

"What the actual-"

"Buck!" A new voice called as a man with an unfortunate face hurried toward them. Green magic fizzled around his features and he became Captain America.

"The Avengers are here too?!" Jak yelped, "Maybe we should go with-"

"It could be a trick. We're not stopping until we're not being followed anymore. We can touch base with the Avengers after we're safe," Bucky replied, fear filling his face at seeing his best friend approaching them. Or maybe at the flaming man-bird descending out of the sky.

"Jessica!" Her father screeched, "Get back here this instant!"

"Get in the car," Bucky shoved her inside the nearest door, which happened to be the driver's seat. He pressed the keys into her hand and jumped in the back. "Drive. I'll cover our six."

He took a gun out of a holster on his back and smashed out the rear window with his metal hand. He began firing at Uriah as Jak hit the gas and sped out of the parking lot. She hadn't driven anything faster than a riding floor burnisher in a few years, but she'd been driving for a long time and had, on occasion, driven a getaway car. Her mother was involved with a crime ring in the 1980s and there had been a few bank robberies and drive-by shootings they'd been involved in.

"Did you hit him?" She asked, speeding around a corner.

"I think so, but he's still coming," Bucky fired again, "Don't stop until I say so."

"I wasn't planning on it," she ground out, "Since when can he fly?!"

"This is a new thing?"

"I've never seen him do it before!" Jak took another hasty turn and Bucky rolled across the backseat before straightening up and shooting Uriah again. When Jak looked in the rearview, she saw her father dip toward the ground, but he got back up again.

"Whatever Loki was doing made him really mad. Maybe if he gets mad he turns into a bird? Kinda like that big green doctor?"

"You think my dad hulks out and becomes Demon Big Bird?!"

"I mean, maybe! The world has always been weird, but it seems like this past decade has been above average amounts of crazy."

"What was Loki even doing?" Jak asked. The Asgardian had been haunting her damaged mind from the moment he'd revealed himself and she needed to know why someone so evil kept popping into her head with the words elskan mín attached to his voice.

"I don't know and at the moment I don't really care. At least he's not following us," Bucky fired again and missed. "How okay are you with me killing your dad?"

"I thought he was dead before, I don't care if he dies again," she ran a red light and narrowly avoided getting hit by a semi. Distantly, she heard sirens.

"Good. I'm going to try shooting him in the face, but I'm going to need you to keep us in a straight line and hold it steady, can you do that?"

"Give me a second to get on a better road," she peeled onto a long stretch of freeway. She slowed the vehicle slightly to allow her father to get closer to them and make Bucky's shot easier.

He fired.

There was a yelp.

The flames in the rearview extinguished.

Uriah fell to the ground and was hit by the car behind them. Jak sped up again and exited the freeway as soon as she could. After several more twists and turns to ensure they were hidden, Bucky began directing her to an abandoned SHIELD safehouse he remembered. Jak did her best to stop her hands from shaking, but couldn't manage it.

When they went inside, she collapsed into a ball on the ground and tucked her quivering hands under her arms and took deep breaths. Bucky dropped to the floor with her and pulled her to him, resting his chin on her head.

"Hey, we did it," his voice cracked slightly, "We're out of there."

"We're out of there," she repeated.

"We're free."

"Free."

"And your dad is roadkill. He won't come after us again, alright?"

"Alright," she nodded, but she didn't believe for a second that Uriah Fenice was dead. After all, she'd learned some Italian when they'd lived in Europe. She knew what her father's chosen last name meant, she just hadn't realized quite how literal he'd meant for it to be until she saw his wings.

Chapter Text

"It's your own damn fault that she's gone so don't try to blame this team." Rogers pointed at Loki as they boarded the Quinjet. Loki shoved the captain out of his way and crossed his arms. He knew it was his fault. He knew that if he'd stuck to the plan it was likely that they would have Jak with them. But he refused to admit his flaws. He was still reeling from the events that had just transpired.

"It would have worked if-"

"No, it wouldn't have. We had a plan and you were way out of line."

"No one cares whose fault it is!" Stark stepped between them, "Did anyone else see Uriah Fenice make fire wings, flap after Jak, and then get hit by a car?!"

"Security footage shows he got shot in the face too," Romanoff said from the pilot's seat, "But he bounced right back up and flew off. Also, we need to discuss the fact that Uriah called Jak his daughter."

"He can't be her dad," the captain shook his head, "He looks just like Heinz Kruger. My memories of Jaklyn's dad are fuzzy, but I think I would remember if he was the Hydra agent who killed Dr. Erskine."

"Unless he wore a different face then," Stark pointed out, "These magical types are always switching faces. They're as bad as Natasha with that photostatic veil."

"Uriah is Jak's father," Loki confirmed, "The people I talked to said that he had been Johann Schmidt's ally and that he used to go by another name. He has magic like she does. When I spoke with him in the woods he was concerned that Jak and I were courting and disapproved. He was vetting dance partners for her. He's her father."

"But he was incinerated," Rogers insisted, "Jak's mother was very firm on that when she was trying to kill me. She says I burned him alive."

"Not to side with Jak's crazy mom, but it is weird that you can't remember incinerating a magical guy in the forties," Stark commented.

"An illusion, perhaps," Loki shrugged, "It doesn't matter. Uriah is Jak's father and now he's missing. Thor and Falcon have had no success in finding his home in the woods. We won't find him again unless he wants us to."

"That means our focus is Jaklyn," Rogers nodded, "And Bucky."

"Bucky didn't seem as crazy-psycho as usual at the end of the party there," Stark pointed out, "Do we think that he's on our side now?"

"You can't be sure with that guy," Romanoff shook her head, "I say we should continue to operate as if he's dangerous."

"Why is he following Jak's orders instead of Uriah's?" Loki asked, "He clearly helped her escape against her father's wishes."

"I saw his face before they got in the car," Roger's voice was raw with emotion, "It's him. He's back. At least partially."

"Still dangerous," Romanoff argued, "We don't know what his plan is, if he has one. He saw you were there and still ran."

"For that matter, Jak ran even after she saw Cap and Loki," Stark pointed out, "You think she would have seen Loki's performance and known there was a rescue in progress. I hate to say it, but I'm starting to wonder if she's just trying to start over. Maybe she got tired of parole hearings and being a janitor and took her chance to get out."

"She wouldn't," Loki and Captain Rogers spoke at the same time.

"Are you sure? Didn't she tell you she was glad to be getting away from you when she was supposed to be going to the city?" Stark raised a brow.

"How would you know about that conversation?" Loki seethed.

"You didn't think I would have Friday replay all of the final conversations Jak had before she disappeared?"

"Is that true?" Rogers turned to him, "Did she break up with you before she left?"

"No!" Loki felt like stomping his foot at these insects. They were so eager to villainize him. He found himself wishing Thor was there. His brother would stand with him even as the other Avengers turned on him.

"The kiss before she got in Uriah's car didn't exactly look like a break up kiss," Romanoff said, "Loki, tell us what happened. Did she seem like she wanted to run?"

"She was glad that we would be spending time apart only so that she could take a moment to find herself," Loki explained reluctantly. He hated to share any part of his private conversations with them, but they would not stop gnawing on this bone until he buried it. "She told me she wanted time away from me and all of you to ensure that she could still take care of herself. She said she never wanted to go back to being entirely reliant on another person as she had been when her mother controlled her. But she made it clear she would be coming back."

"So maybe she just got scared," Romanoff shrugged, "There was a lot going on back there and it seemed like she and Bucky already had a plan to get away."

"I did hear Bucky say they couldn't trust anyone," Rogers sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair, "With everything happening so quickly, maybe they were worried that Loki and I were tricks of her father's. After all, we've been so slow to find her, why would she have any reason to expect us tonight?"

"We'll never know for sure what was going through her head unless we find her," Stark said, "So, where would she go if she was scared and trying to lay low? Or, where would Bucky go?"

"If I knew where Bucky's hiding places were we would have already had him back now," Rogers said. "Tony, can you work on accessing local security footage? See if we can run the plates of the car they took and alert law enforcement to keep an eye out for it?"

"We should leave the police out of this," Loki said, "Uriah might have paid off the local department. We don't need to help him find her."

"The owner is going to report it stolen anyway," Romanoff shook her head, "The police might be paid off, but there's a chance that they'll help us instead if we ask them."

"No one wants to be on the wrong side of the Avengers!" Stark was already at his computer, pulling up traffic cameras to look for the stolen vehicle.

"That's so untrue," Romanoff teased, "There are so many people over the years who have specifically chosen to be on the wrong side of the Avengers, right Loki?"

He didn't respond, instead sitting down and crossing his arms. He had no way to be helpful in locating Jak. His magic could not pull her out of thin air. He couldn't track her in the city. He'd ruined their chance at talking to her and getting her to follow them. The best he could do was sit and brew. There were many unpleasant thoughts to brew over.

The one that came to mind first was how he'd seen Jak and Bucky hold hands as they left the building. A reasonable voice tried to whisper to him that he shouldn't be upset. After all, she was just a woman. Not important, just a pleasant way to pass the time while he'd been stuck at the Compound. He'd had dozens of lovers over the centuries who he'd easily forgotten as days went by. He would eventually forget her too.

But when he closed his eyes, all he saw was her smile. He could picture her casting spells, dancing with her mop, and kissing him. And he knew he couldn't just forget her.

He supposed that meant he would have to get Bucky Barnes out of the picture.

"Ooh, hey, I didn't find Jak's getaway car, but it looks like Uriah collapsed in on the bank of the river," Stark exclaimed, "Let's go scoop him up!"

Loki's eyes flicked open as the Quinjet took off. He supposed Barnes could wait. First he needed to pummel the man who had taken Jak away in the first place. The man responsible for years of her misery. Misery that Loki was happy to return tenfold.

Chapter Text

"Good morning," Bucky said when Jak stepped into the safe house's tiny kitchen. He was going through the cupboards and frowning more with each door he opened, "I hope you like bran cereal."

"I do, actually," she tiredly pulled her long hair into a ponytail. The magic she'd used the night before had not taken the hairspray out and it was crunchy-feeling.

"I can't stand it," he took the box from the cupboard and slid it across the counter to her, "We ate a lot of it when I was a kid. It was cheap and we ate it without milk."

"Back when it was less than a dollar," Jak laughed and suddenly remembered a similar conversation she'd had not long ago. "Hey, do you remember Spam?"

"Ha," he leaned on the kitchen counter and crossed his arms, "Yes. Do they still make that?"

"They do," she tilted her head, "Did you ever eat it for birthdays?"

"I used to stick a candle in it for…"

"For Steve?"

"Yeah, how'd you know that? Is that one of the memories you saw while you were messing around in here?" He pointed at his head.

"No. He told me," she remembered more moments between her and Captain America. He danced with her once. He held her when she was upset about something. He taught her how to throw a punch… or was that someone else?

A headache quickly overtook her and she pressed her palm to her forehead.

"What's wrong?" Bucky asked.

"Every time I try to remember things about my life at the Compound, I get splitting headaches," she dabbed at her nostrils with the pad of her thumb, glad to find that at least her nose wasn't bleeding this time.

"Your dad's magic is still holding on, huh? I hoped it would go away after he got hit by that car. And shot in the face."

"I'm not surprised," she opened the box of cereal and reached inside for a handful, "Some spells can be maintained indefinitely, even after death. They might weaken with time, but it takes decades for them to go away completely."

She didn't want to tell him that she didn't think her father was actually dead. He would only try to assure her of what she'd already seen through the rearview mirror of their getaway car. She'd seen Uriah get hit. She'd seen him fall. She'd seen him run over, left bent on the freeway. But she'd seen him die before and it hadn't stuck last time.

"Like how your mom's spell was still floating around in my head," Bucky nodded, "Thanks again, for getting that out."

"How are you doing?" She hadn't really had time to ask him before. "It must be… overwhelming to wake up in a world so different."

"Things are different," he agreed and looked away, "But I'm not waking up to it. I'm just… before I…"

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," she said softly.

"Before you got in my head, I knew what I had done as the Winter Soldier," he looked up at her, "But it was like I didn't have a conscience. I didn't care about the things I was doing. I just did them."

"And now you care."

"I care," tears welled in his eyes for a moment, but he brushed them away with his thumb and forefinger, "It's torture to know what I did now. I almost want you to take it all away again."

"I don't know if…"

"But I know that's not what I actually want. That's not going to help anyone."

"No."

"So right now, I think I just need to figure out how to deal with it," he turned back to the cabinets and pulled out a can of spaghetti, "And deal with the things that have changed that I haven't experienced as the Winter Soldier. Like figuring out what the hell SpaghettiOs are."

.

.

They spent the day lying low, eating whatever they could scrounge up from the cupboards. Jak used the shower for far longer than was necessary, pleasantly surprised to find that the water had not been shut off, despite the fact that SHIELD most likely wasn't paying the utilities anymore. When she got out of the shower, she found that her clothes had turned back into the torn purple dress and she wrinkled her nose at the thought of putting it back on.

Donning a towel instead, she left the bathroom to see if the dresser in her bedroom was just for show or if there were emergency clothes in it. As she turned to exit the bathroom, she bumped into Bucky and nearly lost her grip on her towel.

"Aaah!" She yelped, quickly readjusting the fabric.

"Whoa!" Bucky's gaze slipped down to what she was frantically trying to cover, then quickly snapped back up to her face and then to the ceiling. "Geez! What happened to your clothes?!"

"I was looking for something to change into," she glared at him, her cheeks going bright red, "I wasn't expecting someone to be lurking in the hallway!"

"Sorry," he rubbed the back of his head, "I was just…"

"What?"

"I'm sorry," he winced, "I was listening to you hum in the shower. You were humming that song we danced to last night and I really liked it and - err, sorry."

"Oh," she wondered if her whole body was equipped to blush. She felt as if she must be red from the tips of her ears down to her toes.

"Well, now that I've made myself look like a peeping tom, I'll let you go find some clothes and I'll hit my head on the wall a few times."

"It's okay, Bucky," she assured him, "The piece we danced to is the Sleeping Beauty Waltz by Tchaikovsky. From the ballet?"

"I was never one for the fine arts," he laughed, "I don't think I've ever been to a ballet."

"Someday we'll go together," she lightly touched his arm, then remembered that she was nearly naked and hastily pulled away, "In the meantime, maybe we could watch the Disney film sometime! It has lyrics to some of Tchaikovsky's pieces."

"Disney Sleeping Beauty, huh?" He looked impressed, "I guess after Snow White it was only natural to do another fairy tale."

"And Cinderella as well! And others, but I never really kept up with all of them," she cleared her throat, "Anyway. I'd better find something to wear."

"Yep. Yeah. Um, good call. I should probably find something too. Something a little less conspicuous than leather. Maybe something with sleeves, right?"

"Oh! That reminds me," she pointed to his metal arm, "We should paint something over the star."

"Like what?" He smirked, "A smiley face?"

"Whatever you want," she laughed and quickly moved toward her room, "Maybe the name of the girl you like - like a sailor's tattoo."

"But the girl I like keeps changing her name!" He called just as she closed the door to her room. Once inside, she leaned against the door and tried to fight off her beaming smile.

.

.

After they'd both found a change of clothes (their options were limited to boring bureaucratic suits, hoodies and jeans, or black cargo pants and matching shirts), they discussed their plans for the coming days.

"We'd better lie low for a bit," Bucky said, "We don't know who's looking for us and what they'll do when they find us. You're sure you don't want to try and get back to the Avenger's Compound? I don't, but I'll help you get there if you want to."

"I should go back," Jak conceded, "I'm sure the government would appreciate it if I did."

"Alright, so we make our way across the border-"

"I should go back, but I'm not going to," she sat on the couch in the safehouse living room, eating microwave popcorn that they'd found stashed in the very back of a cupboard with the words "Coulson's do not eat!" written in marker on the package.

Bucky didn't ask any questions or make any judgements about her decision to not go back to her probation and she was glad. She knew it was stupid to throw away her hard work of becoming a law abiding citizen, but now that she had a taste of the full force of her magic, she couldn't go back to letting the U.S. government control it.

"Where are we going in Europe then?" Bucky asked instead and then stole a handful of popcorn, "If you don't just want to ditch me and go it alone, that is."

"Like I said last night: Europe sounds nice. Where do you want to go?"

"Doesn't matter to me. I've got a bad memory for every country in the EU."

Jak could relate. She'd been all over the world and had a few fond memories of her travels, but mostly she could remember her parents' punishments or their attempts at finding her a husband. Or the wars. She had terrible memories of both world wars along with earlier battles. There was never any shortage of violence in the past two hundred and fifty years.

"Okay," she decided, "Pick the place you hated the most. Let's go there and overwrite the bad memories with good ones."

"The place I hated the most," he scratched his chin, which had already begun to get stubbly again, "Bucharest."

"Bucharest it is."

Chapter Text

"Oh shit, somebody stop him! I knew we should have put him on a leash!" Stark exclaimed as Loki dashed from the Quinjet the moment they landed and ran to the slumped form laying on the river bank.

"We should have brought Thor," Rogers dove after Loki and tackled him to the ground just as Loki conjured a pair of daggers. "We can't kill him! We need to question him!"

"Who said anything about killing him?" Loki laughed as he rolled and kicked the captain off, "I've got something much worse in mind for this broken bird."

"Loki, no!" Rogers could order all he wanted, but Loki was in no mood to obey.

Instead, he stalked closer to Uriah Fenice and grabbed his hair. He hauled him to his feet, but the man was still unconscious and wouldn't stand. Loki considered what terrible thing to do first and finally decided on cutting off the sorcerer's hands when Stark in his armor flew from the Quinjet and snatched the unconscious man away.

"Hey, let's not break him before we all have a chance to sit down and talk with him," Stark slapped a power dampening cuff on Uriah's wrist and then flew him back to the jet. Loki scowled, but followed after. Romanoff rolled her eyes from the pilot seat and took off, heading back for the Compound.

"If you aren't going to cooperate with the rest of the team, what are you even doing here?" Rogers asked him as Loki took a seat and meticulously fastened his seatbelt.

"I don't see how cutting off our enemy's hands affects the rest of the team."

"That's not how we do things."

"That's not how you do things, Captain," Loki finally looked him in the eye, "I am not an Avenger. Jak is not an Avenger. You and your precious team are only involved because you feel guilty for losing her when she was meant to be under your protection."

"We did lose her, and that's on us," Rogers pointed at him, "But she ran away this time and she did it after she saw you and your little spectacle back at the gala."

Loki was glad he'd taken a moment to lock his seatbelt into place or he would have launched himself at the Captain and thrown him out of the jet just then. He settled for a spiteful smile instead and decided to poke at a sore spot.

"And dearest Sergeant Barnes went with her after you came so close to finally getting him back. It must sting to have your oldest friend run from you every time you show your face."

"Hey!" Romanoff called from the cockpit, "I have an idea. Let's play the quiet game so I don't lose my mind and dump you all at the nearest gas station."

Loki and Rogers both fell silent out of mutual fear and respect for the Widow, but they glared at each other the entire flight. When they landed, Stark made sure to take Uriah straight to a holding cell in the Compound and call Thor and Sam Wilson back from their investigations. Once they arrived, Wilson took Rogers aside to calm him down and Thor punched Loki in the shoulder… which didn't have the same effect, but did make Loki irritated at his brother rather than the super soldier.

"Tell me what happened," Thor wrapped his arm around Loki's shoulders and took him aside to the kitchen. There, he began making a huge sandwich, which he passed to Loki and then made another for himself. Loki hadn't realized until that moment that he was starving and hadn't eaten anything for hours. The last thing he'd had was a tiny hors devour at the gala. He relayed the evening's events as he scarfed down the sandwich his brother made him.

"She ran away with the Winter Soldier?" Thor asked incredulously, "You're sure he didn't kidnap her?"

"She had her magic again. I don't see how he could have," Loki muttered around a bite of food, "Stark said she used her magic to throw him across the room and change her clothes. I'd be proud if I weren't so frustrated."

"Could Uriah Fenice be controlling her mind?"

"Perhaps, but… nevermind."

"What?"

"Perhaps," Loki sighed, "she ran away to escape her parole. If she has her magic again and is free to use it as she likes, then why would she come back to life cleaning your hair out of drains?"

"It's not just my hair," Thor took a bite of his own sandwich, "If she were to run away from her parole, wouldn't she do it with you? I'm sure it would be easy for her to bat her eyes at you and convince you to become fugitives together."

"I've offered to break her cuff for her before and leave," Loki admitted, "She turned me down."

"I suppose we won't know what she's up to until we find her," Thor reached across the counter and put a hand on Loki's shoulder, "There's no use concocting plots for her. We'll find out the truth eventually."

"I just hope the truth is not what I suspect it may be."

.

.

Steve made sure that Loki was on the other side of the building with Thor when he finally went to talk to Uriah Fenice. It took a day for the sorcerer to wake up and when he did all of his wounds were healed. He sat in his cell, fiddling with the cuff on his wrist and glaring at the camera. Steve entered the room and Uriah switched his angry gaze to him instead.

"Ah. My murderer. So nice to see you again, Captain Rogers," Uriah said, "Though I suppose you don't recall that, do you?"

"So you really are Jaklyn's father? Leroy?"

"She goes by Jessica now, actually," Uriah stretched his arms, "And I haven't been Leroy in a long time. Leroy burned in a fire, as I'm sure Jessica or her mother told you."

"You know, you look a lot like someone else I thought was dead. Does the name Heinz Kruger ring any bells?"

Uriah laughed. "Oh yes it does. That was me too. The cyanide took about as well as the fire did. And that car last night."

"So you're… immortal?" Steve offered.

"Death and I have a complicated relationship."

"Jaklyn was convinced you were dead. She said she saw you burn and your bones burn. I don't know why I can't remember that, it seems like it would have been quite the sight."

"I'm sure it was spectacular." Uriah stood up and Steve adjusted his stance slightly to be ready for a fight. "You don't remember because I didn't want you to. A few years ago you would have, but when I heard they'd found you, I didn't want you to interfere in my business. I made myself a SHIELD agent and at one of your doctor's appointments I took away a few memories."

"So now that we're all on the same page, would you care to give those back?"

"I'd have to use my magic," Uriah gestured to his cuff.

"Rain check then," Steve crossed his arms, "Do you know where your daughter is?"

"Your rogue 'war buddy' swiped her right from under my nose."

"So you don't have control of the Winter Soldier any more?"

"Evidently not," Uriah shrugged, "He was breaking anyway. That mind is close to shattering. It would be dangerous for most people to be around him when it does. Luckily, Jessica has enough magic to kill him with little difficulty should the need arise."

Steve tried not to think about that. He could think about it later. Right now Uriah was just trying to get a rise out of him. Just trying to push his buttons and steer the conversation where he wanted it to go. So, Steve had to take it back.

"What happened to your cook?" He asked, "Lyubov Buzinsky? My team tells me her mother is worried about her."

"It's true what they say," Uriah chuckled, "Steve Rogers is an irritatingly righteous man! My daughter is on the loose with your best friend, neither of them particularly stable, and you ask about the well being of an insignificant Russian immigrant. You ought to take up a tablet and torch and go stand on an island in the harbor. Then you'll be in one convenient location for the tired, poor, and huddled masses to find you."

"What happened to Lyubov Buzinsky?"

"Not to be deterred with a bit of wordplay? Very well," Uriah looked him in the eye, his eyes a blazing orange color, "She's six feet under. That's where Barnes will be if I get a hold of him again. That's where all you Avengers will end up for trying to take my daughter away from me."

"You think you can put Loki in the ground?" Steve asked, trying his hand at riling up the other man, "He doesn't think so. You think you can kill Thor? Are you prepared to deal with Odin if you somehow manage it?"

Uriah's jaw ticked in annoyance and he was silent for a moment. After a long pause he sat down again on his cot.

"Loki will regret crashing my party. He'll regret even more his clumsy attempt at winning my daughter's hand. I am the only one who decides who is fit to touch her and I find him lacking."

"I think Jaklyn is the only one who gets to decide that, actually."

"Jessica is my only surviving offspring. She is the only child I've had with magic in over a thousand years," Uriah slammed his fist on the cot, but Steve didn't flinch. "She is my pawn to control as I like!"

"I hope you aren't surprised that she ran away from you," Steve commented, turning to go, "You'd think in a thousand years you could have learned to be a decent father."

"That's it? That is all the interrogation you have for me?" Uriah barked out a laugh, "I've told you nothing. What can you do with what little information I've shared? You won't find her without me, you know. If you want to bring her back to her parole, you'll need my help."

"Are you offering to work with us?"

"I'm warning you that you can search until you look your age, Captain, but you'll never find her. Meanwhile, I can wait until this building crumbles around me. I can bide my time and rebuild my empire when you are all dead. I don't think you have the patience to-"

Steve left the room. He wasn't surprised to find Tony standing outside, watching the monitor with a bag full of freeze dried fruit. He offered the bag to Steve and he took a blueberry.

"And we thought Loki was crazy when we met him," Tony shook his head, "This guy… his mind is like a bag full of… crazier cats? I don't know. I miss Banner."

"If Banner were here I'd be tempted to leave him in a room alone with Uriah and see what the Hulk would do to him," Steve sighed.

"We could just let Loki do his thing," Tony said, "Let the cat-bag-brains fight each other?"

"Maybe," Steve said, distracted for a moment. "I don't think Uriah has any idea where Jaklyn and Bucky are. I doubt he even knows how to find her."

"No? He seems pretty convinced that he does."

"Tony, do you think we should just… let them go?"

"The brainwashed, highly unstable super soldier with a metal arm that can crush skulls and the freaked out immortal girl with unpredictable magic and daddy issues?" Tony scoffed and tossed the rest of the dried fruit into his mouth, "We're supposed to be protecting the world, Steve, remember?"

"Yes, but if we find them, we'd be putting them in danger. Look how easily Jaklyn was captured right under our noses because the government took away her power! They can't take away Bucky's strength. What would they do to him?"

"Whoa, hey now, I'm going to need more coffee before we talk about treason."

"Tony."

"Steve."

"I'm serious. If we bring them back here-"

"Lalalala, I'm not listening to this right now!" Tony plugged his ears and when Steve shut his mouth and glared silently, he unplugged them and rolled his eyes, "It's complicated, Rogers. We all know it's a nuanced situation, okay? I promise I'm not going to let the government put your BFF on ice or take him out behind the barn. And it seems like we've got Jak's only enemy right here in our custody. She was doing great on probation before. She'll do great again. Maybe Bucky can join her and they'll have matching coveralls."

"You can't make all of your problems into janitors."

"Not if I can't find them, I sure can't. So you'll have to excuse me as I try to get back to locating our rogues. If you want to make yourself useful, tell Loki he can beat the shit out of Jak's dad. I think we all want him to after his 'she's my pawn to control as I like' speech."

Steve left him to search and seriously considered telling Loki what Uriah had said. It seemed like Uriah was not easily killed. It probably wouldn't do any lasting damage to him to let Loki go a few rounds.

"I'll ask Thor what he thinks," he finally decided. After all, if things got out of hand, Thor would have to be the one to separate the two sorcerers. It was only fair to ask the referee if he was willing to allow the match.

A small part of Steve genuinely hoped Thor would agree. He wouldn't mind watching Uriah Fenice or Heinz Kruger, or whatever his real name was, get his ass handed to him.

Maybe he'd throw a few punches himself.

Chapter Text

With Jak's magic, it didn't take long for her and Bucky to forge documents, change their faces, and get out of the country. She felt slightly guilty when they also manipulated their way into renting an apartment in Bucharest with money Bucky stole, but not guilty enough to change her mind.

"It's nice," she said, looking around the small space, "Real wood floors. You don't get that in American apartments anymore."

"We can hide a go-bag under the floorboards," Bucky agreed.

"What a comfy chair!" Jak sat down in the armchair that had come with the place, "And the wallpaper is… dingy, but it could have been cute twenty years ago."

"Good escape routes," Bucky pointed at the exterior doors and windows.

"We'll need to get something to sleep on," Jak bit her lip as she looked around the tiny studio space. It would be ridiculous to get more than one bed even if they were twin size. It would take up space they didn't have to spare.

Bucky finally stopped analyzing the tactical benefits and looked at her. She felt her stomach roll as she realized what conversation they were about to have.

"What… what are we, Jak?"

"A couple of fugitives in a shitty apartment that I'm pretending is cute."

"It's not that bad," he smirked, "We'll put up some curtains, I can fix those broken tiles over the sink. Maybe a rug."

"To the eyes of our neighbors, we're married," she decided, "Mr. and Mrs. uh…"

"Popa," Bucky replied.

"Doesn't that mean 'priest'?"

"It's the most common Romanian surname. Like Smith."

"Are we Romanian then?"

"Do you speak Romanian?"

"A little. I'm rusty."

"Alright, so we were both born in Romania, we were friends, but our parents moved to the states when we were kids and we thought we'd never see each other again. I applied for a job and it turned out your dad was my boss. We met up again, got married, and decided to return to the old country."

"How long have we been married?" She asked.

"A year," Bucky decided, "Short enough that it's okay if we don't know everything about each other, but long enough that the neighbors won't be surprised if we argue."

"Are we going to argue?"

"I have a tendency to leave the toilet seat up, so probably."

Jak laughed at that. Bucky sat down on the floor across from her chair and looked up at her with a smile.

"No, I'm serious," he went on, "I'll probably forget to take the garbage out. I can't cook to save my life unless it comes out of a box. And worst of all, I can't stand my in-laws!"

"Oh that's alright," she ticked off her own poor qualities on her fingers, "I'm bossy, I'm a neat freak, and I'm manipulative."

"We're a recipe for disaster," Bucky shook his head, "I would give us six months before divorce… if I weren't so head over heels."

Jak felt her breath catch in her chest.

"Are you?" She'd meant the question to come out light and teasing, but her voice cracked. He was quiet for a long, terrible moment, just staring at her face as it grew redder and redder.

"What are we, Jak?" He asked again, softly this time.

"We… we're figuring that out, I think," she pulled her knees to her chest, "It might take some time… is that okay?"

"I've waited seventy years to see you again, what's a little more time?"

"Bucky…" she squeezed her eyes closed, not wanting to ruin the moment, but needing to know before she said anything else to him. "Do you know… I can't remember exactly, but I feel like there was someone. Was I with someone at the Compound?"

"I don't know the details…" he said slowly, his reluctance clear on his face, "I'm just the guy who kidnapped you, remember?"

"I remember you climbing up on a ladder with me," she said, "And trying to punch your way through a window. I remember… seeing you staring at me through a different window in the night. And I remember a bar… but I don't really remember the bar or how I got there or who I was with or what we were doing, but I remember you tried to sedate me and then… there was a coffee shop?"

"Yeah," Bucky cleared his throat, "I think you were on a date when you were at the bar."

"With… Steve?" She asked, trying to think of who she could have possibly been on a date with. "Or… Sam Wilson? Rhodey? Thor?"

"Uh," Bucky cleared his throat and looked away, "With Loki, actually. You were both dressed up and he was holding your hand at one point."

"Loki?" She snorted in disbelief and then saw his expression, "You're serious?"

"He also stabbed me when I tried to kidnap you before that," he pulled aside his shirt collar to show her a scabbed over gash on his shoulder. "Uriah hated him. He wanted to kill him, but said he couldn't because of someone named Odin."

"Loki's father. No," Jak furrowed her brow, "Thor's father, Loki's adopted father? I don't think they get along."

She couldn't remember the details, but she could hear an echo of a conversation if she strained her mind hard enough. A splitting pain pressed between her eyes before she could think of more.

"If I'm getting everything off my chest," Bucky sighed and ran his flesh and bone hand through his hair, "I should tell you all the details. When your father and I came to pick you up from the Compound, when we were pretending to be feds, I saw the goodbye you gave Loki."

"And… it wasn't a professional handshake or disdainful sneer?" Jak guessed, having a hard time imagining her interacting with the self-proclaimed god in any other way. She'd seen him at the gala and she'd disliked him immediately. She couldn't remember knowing him before her father took him out of her memory, but she doubted that she'd liked him enough to go on a date with him.

"Back in the forties, they would have called your goodbye to him 'indecent'," Bucky laughed, but it was a tense sound, "It seemed like you were going to miss him a lot. I've seen guys sent off to war who didn't even kiss their wives like that before they left."

"Oh."

"And I understand if that changes your mind about things," he said hastily, "I'll take you back to him if you want me to. I won't make you stay with me."

"Bucky," she said.

"I know it's been so long since we knew each other in that Hydra base, and I don't hold any expectations for anything to go back to the way it was."

"Bucky."

"I'm grateful for you putting my head back. And I do still have, have, have feelings for you, Jak, but if you don't feel the same, it's okay," he waved his hands around and didn't look her in the eye.

"Bucky, I-"

"If you want to forget me, I'll understand. Hell, if you want to send Loki after me and let him finish cutting me up, well I can't promise I won't fight back, but I'll understand why you did that too. I want you to be happy and if that mean forgetting about me-"

"Bucky!" She slid off her chair onto the floor with him and took both of his hands in hers.

"Yeah?"

"You could tell me I'm the mother of his kids and I still wouldn't remember him," she laughed, "It frustrates me to no end that I can't, but the fact of the matter is that I don't know Loki. I don't know if I'll ever get my memory of him back. I'm not going to abandon you for someone I don't feel as if I've ever met."

"Oh."

"I'm not though, right?"

"Not what?"

"The mother of his kids."

"Hell no," Bucky laughed.

"I just had to be sure," she laughed with him, but didn't let go of his hands. On a whim, she leaned closer to him. "I like how your eyes sparkle when you laugh, James Barnes."

He grinned widely at her. "You've told me that before, haven't you?"

"The second time we met," she remembered.

She'd been tasked with bringing him food. There was no one else around and she had asked him for his name, curious about the handsome soldier that Hydra was keeping locked away.

"Why should I tell you?" He scowled.

"You don't have to," she shrugged, "I'm Ruth. I'm bringing you your food. There's an expression about hands that feed and not biting them, isn't there?"

"You're Hydra."

"I'm not," she huffed, "My father worked with them. My mother… is working with them for now. But we won't stay here. I don't… I am not Hydra."

"Then what are you, Ruth?" He adjusted his position, sitting on the floor. He rested his one arm over his knees and stared at her, blue eyes cutting into her as she stared back.

"I am your waitress, I suppose. I'm no one important," she took a deep breath as she watched him. She hadn't seen such a handsome man in a long time. Not even Captain America had been so beautiful. "I was here yesterday, don't you remember?"

"I remember. You had pink hair yesterday. How'd you get it that color? Why's it blonde now?"

"Why should I tell you?" She crossed her arms and raised a brow, hoping it sounded as flirtatious as she'd meant it.

He laughed and the blue of his eyes seemed to glow brighter. "I'm Sergeant James Barnes. Hundred and seventh infantry."

Leaning forward, he offered his hand through the bars. She shook it, even though she'd been given specific instructions not to go near him after she delivered his food.

"I like how your eyes sparkle when you laugh, James Barnes."

Jak ran her thumb over his knuckles, both the flesh and the metal ones and she savored the memory. She'd liked him from the moment she met him and once he realized she wanted to be in that Hydra fort about as much as he did - not at all - he warmed up to her too. And then it had all come crashing down because of Arnim Zola's science and Jak's mother's magic.

"You know, I cried when they took you away," she said, twining their fingers together, "My mother slapped me and told me to go to my room and forget about you."

"I thought they were going to kill me," Bucky said, "I wish they had. It would have saved everyone a lot of trouble."

"I'm glad they didn't," Jak inched closer to him, their knees touching. "You were the only good thing about that cold, cold place. When we left and moved back to America, I knew that I'd never see you again, but it took me a long time to stop thinking about you."

"I wish I could say the same," he said regretfully, "They took you right out of my head along with everything else. But, I'll tell you something."

"What's that?" She whispered as they both leaned closer.

"You're all I can think about now."

"Good," she moved forward and pressed her lips to his. Their hands separated, but quickly found other holds. His fingers wove through her hair and gently lifted her chin. Her hands locked behind his head and pulled him closer. When they finally took a breath, they were both smiling.

"You know, I'm liking Bucharest better already," he said and then kissed her again.

Chapter Text

Loki was angry. More than angry. He was enraged. It had been a week since the gala and they were no closer to finding Jak. It was as if she and the Winter Soldier had stepped through a portal to another universe. There was no trace of them anywhere and this time they weren't even using Uriah's magic to hide themselves.

More frustrating still, Thor would not return to Asgard, or allow Loki to return to Asgard to ask Heimdall where they'd gone. The big oaf wouldn't even give Loki an explanation for why not, he simply made himself scarce and spent his time with Steve Rogers instead. Jealous for his brother's attention and annoyed at himself for being jealous for his brother's attention, Loki spent the majority of his time watching over Stark's shoulder as he tried his best to locate Jak and Barnes. When he wasn't doing that, he and Wanda sparred with their magic.

"I've told you, Loki, they won't let me in the same room as Uriah," Wanda told him as she threw a glowing ball at his head. He dodged and flung shards of light at her that she created a magical barrier to deter.

"And you can't reach his mind through the wall? Can't hear his thoughts from the room next door?"

"I've tried," she admitted, jumping into the air and hovering for a moment before landing with a blast of magic that nearly knocked Loki off his feet. She was getting better. Soon she would be too powerful for him to teach.

"Then we will disguise you as someone else. Wait until Stark is guarding him and stroll in as Captain Rogers. Easy."

"And lose both their trust?"

"You Avengers care far too much about trust," he sneered, "No one has trusted me in centuries and I'm still well enough liked."

He cast an array of illusions around her to disguise himself as he snuck around the edges of the room. She watched each illusion carefully, but did not spot him among them until he had his knife at her throat.

"Clever, but I already know that trick." She fizzled into sparkles. The real Wanda revealed herself from amongst his own illusions and Loki could only stare at her for a moment before dispelling his illusions and applauding.

"You see! You could fool them easily!" He strode forward and put a hand on her shoulder, "Please, Wanda, I need to know where she is. If Uriah Fenice has any idea of where she might be, or any way to find her-"

"Why can't you do it yourself?"

"I do not have the same power over minds that you do," he shook his head, "I can retrieve memories and deceive eyes, but that is the extent of it. You can do so much more. Thor told me what you did to him when they were fighting Ultron. He still has nightmares."

"I should apologize to him," Wanda winced.

"Don't you think Jak's father deserves a few nightmares for what he's done to her?"

She stared at him for a long, quiet moment. Just when he was about to say something else to convince her, she spoke.

"Fine, but I will not hesitate to blame you for this if they catch me."

"I am your teacher, if you are caught then it is my fault to begin with," he grinned and squeezed her shoulder, "Thank you, Wanda. Whatever you want in return is yours."

"I want to make sure Jak is okay," she sighed and then smiled tightly at him, "We are a coven after all."

"Ha!" He patted her shoulder and nodded before taking a step back, "That we are. And Uriah Fenice is no match for us!"

.

.

A little after two in the morning, Wanda met up with Loki on the dock by the river. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail as she walked toward him and shook her head at his hopeful expression.

"Nothing useful."

"What exactly did you find?" Loki demanded, "There has to be something."

"It was not easy to infiltrate his mind," she rubbed her hands over her arms as if cold, "He has powerful magic and he was not eager to share any information."

"So you weren't able to-"

"I was," she sat down on the bench and stared out at the dark water. Loki towered over her, pacing back and forth. "He made it difficult for me to find what I was looking for. He kept… he kept throwing other memories and emotions at me."

"Like what?"

"He showed me hundreds of deaths, all of which he caused. He showed me the things he's done throughout history," she took a deep breath, "He's been doing bad things for a very long time."

"From what Jak has told me, that isn't surprising," Loki stopped pacing and crossed his arms, "He's an ally of Hydra. Before that he was involved in stealing people from Africa and enslaving them. I am sure he's done more than that."

"He had other children," Wanda quickly swiped at the tears forming in her eyes, "What he's done to Jak is unforgivable, but I do not exaggerate when I say that she was treated well compared to those other children."

"Did you get through his terrors and find anything more recent? Anything that could help us locate her?" Loki pushed, not wanting to linger on the possibilities of what Uriah could have done.

"He burned that Russian cook alive," she continued, her hands shaking, "He made Jak bury her and then he took that memory out of Jak's head. He took many of her memories. Memories of her time here. Memories of you. He seemed particularly happy about that."

"Damn him," Loki growled, clenching his fists, "Damn him to the pits of Hel."

"She may have gotten some of those memories back, I don't know," Wanda shook her head and took another deep breath, putting on a blank face and looking him in the eye, "He was mad that the Winter Soldier left with her, he thought he was still under his control. He was thinking of ways to kill you without starting a war with Asgard, but he hasn't thought of anything concrete yet. He has a plan to kill Steve, but I don't think it will amount to anything. He thinks that his associates are going to break him out soon and then he plans on looking for Jak in Europe."

"Why Europe?"

"He has another business there under a different name and he thinks it will be easier to avoid us there. That's all the information I could get from him. I think there is more, but I… he started showing me those terrible images again and I left."

Loki began pacing again, flipping through ideas and then doubling back to them. Wanda watched him, but didn't say anything else. She'd said that she hadn't found anything useful, but Loki had to disagree.

He now knew why Jak hadn't come back. Her memories had been taken. Why would she want to go back to a life she only knew as punishment for her crimes? Why would she return to a place where she thought she had no friends? He was torn between relief that there was an explanation and dismay that she likely had no recollection of their time together.

"He wants to go to Europe. He told Rogers that we'd never find her without him," Loki stopped pacing and turned back to Wanda, "I say we let him go to Europe."

"What?!" Wanda stood up immediately.

"He wants to find her as much as we do. I say we let him. We'll follow him."

"We can't just let him go! Are you insane?"

"A little, yes. Now, we just need to find a way to let him out without him knowing that we're letting him out. Perhaps his power dampening cuff gets turned off by accident?"

"Loki! We can't do this," Wanda bent her knees and raised her hands, ready for a fight, "I've gone along with this plan too far already."

"I understand," Loki nodded, "Your loyalty is to the Avengers. Not to me. Not to Jak. I will not ask you to assist me further, but I hope you understand that I must do this."

"You can't let him go," she crafted intricate webs of red energy between her fingers and stared at him, "I won't let you."

Loki paused and considered her, looking the witch up and down. He didn't want to fight her. He wasn't sure that he could anymore. And if he did and he won, he'd have the angry robot to contend with and he certainly didn't want to test himself against the Mind Stone.

The robot. Now there was an idea. Wanda might listen to Vision.

"Nothing else we've tried has worked," an illusion of Vision floated down toward them, landing next to Wanda. "I believe Loki's idea has merit. We can recapture Uriah Fenice if we need to, but my analysis of the risk shows that-"

"It has no mind," Wanda threw a bolt of magic through the illusion, "No Mind Stone for me to read. You are losing your touch, Loki."

"Well, shit, I suppose that only leaves the option of a fight, doesn't it?" Loki raised his fists, green magic glowing around them.

"You should give up now," she offered, "I've learned all your tricks. You said it yourself: I am more powerful than you. Come back to the Compound with me and we can talk things through with Steve and Tony. There has to be another way to get her back."

"Oh, I'm sure there is," he didn't wait for her to try and convince him of what that was, instead throwing three successive blasts at her and making a dash for the path back to the Compound as she combated his magic. It didn't take her long to catch up with him and lift him in the air so that he was running on nothing.

Recalling what she'd said about Uriah blocking her from entering his mind and seeing how it had affected her, Loki threw his own terrible memories at her. She looked confused at first, reliving Odin's rejection on the Bridge along with him. He saw her gasp when he fell and felt the hold of her magic lessen on him. Silently apologizing, he delved into the tortures he'd experienced at Thanos' hand and the atrocities he'd committed on the Titan's behalf. Wanda was strong, but even she buckled when confronted with immeasurable anguish.

Loki broke free of her hold and left her reeling on the path as he made his way to the cell in which Uriah Fenice waited for him. He did his best to walk at a normal pace once he was inside the building so as not to raise suspicion. When he finally arrived at the hallway leading to the cell, he regretted not moving faster when Vision and Thor stood in his way. If they'd just been standing there, he would not have worried. They were Avengers, this was their Compound, they were bound to be hanging around someplace. However, when they looked him in the eye and Loki saw the disappointment on his brother's face, he knew they were waiting for him. Wanda must have contacted one or both of them telepathically.

"Brother," Thor said in a warning tone that Loki was more familiar with than he would have liked.

"Thor, robot, good evening… or morning as I suppose is more accurate," Loki smiled at them. He knew that they knew what he was up to, but he had never been one to show all of his cards.

"You will not be setting Uriah Fenice free," Vision said simply, "And you will apologize to Wanda."

Loki loosened his posture, preparing for his second fight of the night. Taking on the Avengers was not nearly as easy without an alien army to back him and that hadn't been a walk in the park to begin with.

"We will find Jaklyn Baker another way," the robot told him gently.

"It's been a week," Loki said, "And before that, two months. I am tired of waiting on the Avengers to while away hours scanning computer data and reviewing security footage that gets us nowhere."

"It is no longer an urgent matter that we find them," Thor tried to smile warmly, but dropped the expression when Loki sent a poisonous glare back. "She has her magic back. You taught her yourself. Do you not think she is capable of staying safe on her own?"

"She is not on her own, is she? You cannot account for the Winter Soldier and what he may do."

"Jaklyn can handle him. Besides, it looked like they were acting in tandem," Thor narrowed his eyes, "Would you have us risk her evil father running loose just because of your petty jealousy?"

The rage that had simmered in Loki's gut all week began to bubble up. He grit his teeth and told himself that he could reason with them. All he had to do was appeal to their predictable desire to do the most heroic thing possible.

"Recapturing him won't be difficult. And if he leads us to Jak I think the risk is worth it. Wanda learned that Uriah erased some of Jak's memories. She may not be in danger, but she could be dangerous to others. Surely you recall how she lost control of her powers when her mother's bones were delivered. Or even when she sneezed at times! I think it is irresponsible of you to leave her on the loose."

"Mr. Stark and myself agree," Vision said, "But it would be more irresponsible to let her father loose."

"Fine!" Loki threw his hands in the air, appearing defeated, but far from it. "Then consult with Heimdall, Thor. Uriah is not blocking her from his sight any longer, he should be able to find her easily."

Thor shifted his weight from one foot to the other and scratched his elbow. He smiled uncomfortably and glanced at Vision before looking at Loki.

"I could do that, it would make complete sense to," he cleared his throat, "If it weren't for, uh, secret Asgardian reasons. Loki, might I talk to you alone?"

"Do not let him into the cell," Vision said and then phased through a wall, giving them a bit of privacy. Thor immediately moved closer and grabbed Loki's tunic.

"Listen, Steve and I are trying to get the rest of the team to drop the matter of finding the janitor," he said in a whisper, "Before you stab me for saying that, let me explain."

Loki put away the dagger he'd discreetly conjured and narrowed his eyes.

"It had better be one hell of an explanation. Why would you want to stop them from finding her?"

"Steve is worried about bringing her and his friend back here. He argues that she has been in far more danger working with us than she ever was in hiding these past decades."

"I will protect her," Loki snapped.

"She is trapped here. The American government holds control of her magic. Right now she is free. She can protect herself."

"Rogers just wants to keep his childhood friend safe. He knows what will happen if the government gets a hold of Bucky Barnes and it won't be a probationary period doing custodial work."

"Perhaps, but after running away with him, Jaklyn's punishment may not be so light either," Thor raised a brow, "She was already under suspicion when her mother's bones showed up here. It will not help her case that she appeared to go on the run with Barnes."

Loki grit his teeth, hating that Thor made a good point. He did not want to take away her freedom if she'd chosen to run away from both her father and the Avengers. Taking a moment to cool his thoughts, he realized that his main reason for finding her was his hurt that she had not chosen to run away with him. And if Uriah had taken her memories, then she probably didn't even remember that Loki had offered to take her away from her semi-imprisonment. All things considered, it would be better if the Avengers didn't find her.

"So we leave them on the run," Loki said slowly, "And when the Avengers have moved on to the greater problems of the world, we ask Heimdall where she is and find her ourselves?"

"Exactly," Thor grinned and let go of his tunic, patting him heartily on the arm. "But this is just between you, me, and Steve Rogers."

"Very well," he straightened his tunic to erase the wrinkles Thor's grip had left and looked down his nose at his brother, "I shall play along for now."

He would play along at playing along, but he had plans the moment he was not under such scrutiny. He'd made a mistake in trying to drag Wanda into schemes he should have kept to himself. He would apologize to her, he would be on his best behavior. And the moment he had the chance, he would turn around and free Uriah. Just because it would be better if the Avengers didn't find Jak, it didn't mean he was going to give up on finding her. And if the Winter Soldier had done anything to hurt her, or impede her return, then Captain Rogers wouldn't have to worry about the government doing anything to his friend. There wouldn't be anything left of Bucky Barnes for the government to do anything to.

Chapter Text

Their apartment did not get much sunlight in the mornings, so Jak could never languidly stretch in the sunshine as she woke, but she was treated to a different comfort upon waking up. Each day, she woke when Bucky did because there was always a moment after his sharp, waking inhale when his arm draped over her side and curled around her torso tightly. She reveled in the firm, but gentle hold he had on her, as if assuring himself that she was still beside him and that they were both still safe.

Though their romantic interactions were still fairly platonic (apart from a hasty, irrepressible kiss now and again), they had agreed that it was silly to get two beds in such a small apartment. Both of them had old fashioned views about sharing the bed at first and awkwardness drove Jak to pretend to fall asleep on the chair the first night after they purchased the queen sized mattress. However, the crick in her neck and the cold drafts in the building drove both of them to put aside their hesitation and spend the second night on the mattress together… each balancing on opposite ends with plenty of space between them. On the morning after first sharing the mattress, they'd woken up tangled in each other's limbs and laughing. From that moment on they concluded that it didn't matter what they did in their own apartment as long as both of them were comfortable with the arrangement.

And Jak was very comfortable waking up pressed to Bucky's chest every morning. He slept with his back to the wall and she slept with her back nestled up against him, his soft breaths on her neck, lulling her to sleep every night and his protective grip waking her up each morning.

"Your hair smells…" he whispered behind her and took a deep sniff, "Like fruit."

"I wish I could tell you it was a shampoo or perfume," she traced her finger over every scar on his flesh and bone arm - she had them memorized by that time. "Sadly, it is just because I managed to get cleaning spray in my hair yesterday and was too tired to wash it out."

Jak knew that she could have conjured fake money for them to live on for a long time without anyone being the wiser, and she had no personal qualms about doing so. However, she knew that Bucky would prefer to make an honest living and her mother had always said that one had to be out in the world in order to change it. Of course… her mother had probably been talking about raising her father to world domination, but Jak still liked the idea.

She'd found a housekeeping job at a luxury hotel across town and spent most of her days in an uncomfortable uniform, making beds and cleaning bathrooms. It irked her that she was defaulting to custodial work again, but she liked the familiarity and it paid well.

Bucky found a construction job and since the weather was beginning to get cold, he could wear a long sleeve shirt or jacket without drawing suspicion and his work gloves covered up his silver hand. One upside to the Winter Soldier programming was that he was fluent in several languages, including Romanian and it didn't take long for him to become friendly with the other construction workers, who told him the best places to buy groceries, get news, and take Jak for long romantic walks.

When he'd told her about the suggestions for the walks, she'd rolled her eyes, but accepted his offer to stroll in the park.

She only knew a handful of words in Romanian and found it much harder to befriend her peers. Her manager, however, loved that she spoke English and often had her interact with English speaking guests and then do her best to translate. The special treatment only made the other housekeepers dislike her and she was lonely at work. Though the memories were blurred, she could remember that she and Wanda Maximoff had been friends and that she was even warming up to Natasha Romanoff before she'd been kidnapped. She missed whatever comradery they'd had and did her best to be kind to the other housekeepers despite their dismissal.

"I have the day off," she told Bucky that morning, wiggling out from his grip to prop herself up and face him, "I was thinking of going to the market and making a big dinner tonight."

"A big dinner?" He laughed, "Since when do you cook big dinners?"

"Since I feel like I'm going to tear my tongue out if I have to eat one more of those packets of instant noodle dishes we've been eating all week. I'm thinking about a roast."

"Ambitious," he scrubbed his jaw and looked up at the ceiling, "We'll have leftovers for days."

"I was actually thinking, um," she gestured vaguely, "Maybe you could invite Cezar and his wife. She's the one who gave us her old pots and pans, right? Wouldn't this be a nice way to pay her back?"

Cezar was another construction worker who had practically adopted Bucky at work, even though he was only in his mid-forties. He and his wife had given Bucky and Jak old pots and pans, potholders, and other kitchen utensils. His wife had sent along a late blooming rose from her balcony garden and a friendly note in English.

"Her name is Lidia," Bucky nodded, "Are you sure you want to have people here though? We don't even have a real table."

"Do you think they'd be offended sitting around a coffee table?" She hadn't thought of that. Maybe it wasn't the best idea after all. She was just so exhausted from trying to make friends with the other women at the hotel and being turned down time after time. It would be nice to meet the woman who had already been kind and generous to them.

"Cezar definitely won't. I haven't met Lidia."

"Do you think it's a bad idea to have them over?"

"No," he turned and looked at her again, "I'm sorry. My instinct is to never get too close or let people know where we live. But it's been a month and no one has come after us yet. It'd probably look more suspicious if we didn't have any visitors, right?"

"The neighbors might think it's odd," Jak nodded, "Two young Americans living on their own with no social life to speak of? We'll stick out like a sore thumb."

"So really, we should have Cezar and Lidia over. To keep our cover story believable."

"Exactly," Jak grinned, glad he wasn't turning her idea down. They spent several minutes planning out the meal and the apartment set up before Bucky looked at the clock and realized he was going to be late for work.

"Tell Cezar to bring Lidia by at eight if they'd like to join us," Jak said, sitting in the armchair with a cup of coffee. She was still getting used to the later dinners in Bucharest, but she wanted her guests to feel as comfortable as possible.

"Should I pick up some wine on my way home?" He asked, putting on his gloves.

"I don't drink," she said, "But if you'd like some…"

"Nah," he looked at her, "You don't drink, huh?"

"I stopped in…" she blinked, feeling a sense of deja vu, "Prohibition. Haven't we talked about this before? At… weren't we at a restaurant? No. We've never been to a restaurant together."

"You okay?" He furrowed his brow and stepped closer to her.

"Fine," she shook her head, but the feeling didn't go away, "Some old memory I guess. No. I don't drink. But maybe get some wine anyway for Cezar and Lidia."

"Sure," he leaned in and looked her in the eyes, "Good luck with the cooking."

"Thank you," she smiled and then, because she wanted to shake the deja vu and because she was feeling particularly domestic planning her dinner party, she sat up and kissed him, "Have a good day at work, sweetie!"

He laughed and kissed her forehead. "You got it, doll."

Her heart gave a flutter as she watched him leave the apartment, but it didn't clear the odd wisp of memory. She tried for a moment to pursue the image of a restaurant in her mind, but quickly developed a headache and let it go. Whatever it was, it didn't matter, she told herself.

"I'm in Bucharest, not New York," she set her coffee cup aside and went to pull some clothes out of the tiny closet they shared, "I'm with Bucky, not… not Loki."

But saying his name out loud only made her memory itch again and she could see him, shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows, sitting at a table, asking her about why she'd stopped drinking. That was all she could remember in the moment, but that snippet sent her heart beating faster.

"No," she commanded, throwing on jeans and a sweatshirt, "No. I don't care what I had with him. It doesn't mean anything now. I don't know him. I'm with Bucky."

Elskan mín.

The words, in what she knew to be Loki's beautiful voice, floated through her head, sending a shiver down her spine and a pang of longing through her core.

Elskan mín.

His voice both soothed her and made her headache flare, bringing tears to her eyes as she stood, sweatshirt half over her head, and tried to remember, while growing angry with herself for the attempt.

Elskan-

"Stop!" She growled, her skin glowing bright as her hair floated. She grit her teeth and banished the image of Loki from her mind. She finished dressing and grabbed her bag and apartment key.

"It doesn't matter what he was to me," she scolded herself and wiped her tears on her sleeve, "I don't care what we were to each other. I have a roast to make. I have a whole new life to build and no god of whatever-he-is-the-god-of is going to stop me."

Taking a deep breath, Jak stomped out of the apartment and down the long flight of stairs. She would go to the market. She would buy the ingredients she needed. She would cook. She would make friends. She would live and be happy far away from the Avengers and from Loki.

At least, that was the plan.

Chapter Text

Loki did his best, in the month after the gala, to convince the Avengers that he was interested in everything besides finding Jak and Bucky. He taught Wanda magic lessons after several profuse apologies and under the watchful gaze of Vision. He helped Thor and Jane study the cosmos when Jane came for a visit. He defended the Compound alongside all the others when the occasional intruder showed up and sparred with whoever wanted to test their metal against an Asgardian… which was all of the Avengers. He did anything he was asked, made helpful comments about missions that cropped up, and put on a friendly face. But most of all, he kept his head down.

He was friendly, but did not invite attention. Offering comments and suggestions kept suspicion off of his usually chatty self, but other than a few words per conversation, he did his best to be unnoticeable. Another member of the team. No one worth paying attention to beyond casual acknowledgement. Forgotten within a month.

While he was fading into the background, he observed rising tensions amongst the team. Particularly between Captain America and Iron Man. What had started as a disagreement about letting Jak and Bucky stay on the run, fed into greater arguments. The ways missions were run changed. Having witnessed their very first meeting, Loki knew that Stark and Rogers had never seen eye to eye, but in the end they always managed to make their differences work together for the good of all. The Avengers needed Tony Stark's sass and hotheadedness, just as much as it needed Steve Rogers command and audacity. Quarreling was how they communicated. But not for much longer.

Over the course of a month, secrets were kept. Arguments fizzled into unproductive silences. Rogers and Stark avoided each other and ran their missions separately. Loki watched them do things behind each others' backs and shrug off issues they would have normally consulted each other on. He observed "ask forgiveness, not permission" on a daily basis and had to keep his glee contained when they never did ask that "forgiveness" and instead loudly justified themselves.

Soon, the others began to subconsciously take sides. Loki knew Thor trusted Rogers above Stark so it didn't surprise him to see the two of them frequently together along with Sam Wilson. Rhodey, as everyone expected, stood by Stark, though in part it was because Stark had recently become more interested in the idea of consequences and keeping the government informed of their activities. Loki didn't side with either pseudo-party, doing what he did best and agreeing with both when the other couldn't see.

He agreed with Stark that they should have done more to find Jak and Bucky, shaking his head and muttering Asgardian oaths. Then he'd go for a stroll and come across his brother and the captain and tell them that, after being on Midgard longer and learning of their criminal "justice" system, he was glad that Jak had gotten away and perhaps they should never stick their noses into her business again. Of course, he never outright said any of those things, but he was the master of implication and manipulation. He let Stark and Rogers use him as a canvas for their own ideas and never directly said anything of substance about the matter.

And then came the day that Pepper Potts made everything click into place. She called Stark and, whatever the discussion was, it lasted over an hour and Iron Man left the Compound the next morning to go back to Malibu.

Stark gone meant Jak was safe from his interference.

Then all Loki had to do was wait a day longer and place a few phone calls of his own. Though he wasn't used to Midgardian technology, he did know better than to place this momentous call from any device in the Compound. Instead, he slipped out, with a comment to an Avenger or two that he would be back in an hour and was just running to the bookstore. He'd become such an ordinary fixture at the base and made so many trips to the bookstore that no one even acknowledged his departure. From there, he used a payphone to call Rebirth and talk to a receptionist.

It seemed that, even though Uriah Fenice had been put in custody and locked away in some secluded prison, his company was still up and running. And the dear receptionist was ever so helpful in giving Loki the phone numbers of the members of the board. Especially when he asked her very angrily in Uriah Fenice's voice.

"Listen closely," Loki said to the first board member that he called, still using Uriah's voice, "I have an important task for you and I need you to pass it along to the others. If you don't, I'll throw all of you to the wolves to lessen my sentence, do you understand me?"

"I'm listening," the board member said in a nervous whisper. Loki smiled at the phone.

"Good. I'm in prison and I'm going to tell you exactly how to get me out."

.

.

The next day, when the Avengers got an urgent message that Uriah Fenice had escaped prison, most of the team set out to investigate and get him back. Steve, Thor, Wanda, Vision, and Sam took off in the Quinjet, intent on recapturing the dangerous sorcerer. Rhodey was on another mission that day and Natasha stayed at the Compound to handle things there.

There was some small worry that Uriah would go back to the Compound to try and harm the Avengers, but Natasha wasn't worried. Loki was staying behind as well since none of them had dared to tell him that Fenice was out. As a gatherer of secrets, Natasha knew that Loki had suggested releasing Uriah a month ago and everyone agreed that it was best to tell him it was some other mission so that he would not be interested in going. And it meant that there was a sorcerer in the building if Jak's father did decide to attack the Compound.

The Black Widow spent her time scouring Jak's files for the thousandth time. She had hope that they might have missed a clue before that would lead them to find her and, possibly, her father if he went after her. Nothing was popping up until she looked through an archive of pictures that showed all Jak and her mother's belongings that had been confiscated by the FBI after they attacked. On a whim, Natasha flipped through the pictures until she came to one that made her pause.

It was an image of an ancient box that looked like something out of King Tut's tomb. It was painted in colors that would have been vibrant long ago, but were mostly dulled by time. Hieroglyphs lined the edges, but there was no note of translation anywhere to be found. In the middle of the lid there was a man with orange wings growing from his arms. Natasha wasn't overly familiar with ancient Egypt, but she knew enough to spot something out of the ordinary.

"Usually it's a woman who has those," she muttered, pulling up an internet search of other art to compare it to and finding that generally the goddesses Isis and Nut were the ones depicted with wings and they weren't usually as orange or chaotic looking as on the box. These wings almost looked like fire. Like Uriah Fenice's flaming appendages at the gala.

Atop the character's head there was a bright orange circle, which another search showed to be the sun. The man's skin could have faded over time, but looked paler than what was seen in most ancient Egyptian art and most alarming of all was his rusty red colored hair. A color that could have long ago been meant to be magenta.

"The hell is this?" She made a note of the FBI agent whose name was attached to the file and then looked for an Egyptologist who might be able to translate the hieroglyphics. She found one based in London, but when she looked at the clock she realized it would be too late across the pond to make a professional call so she sent an email including a picture of the box and waited.

It occurred to her that Loki might know and would probably have some ideas about that box. After all, he was ancient himself, he had to have some familiarity with artifacts such as the box, even if they outdated him by a few thousand years. So, she asked Friday where he was in the building and then headed for his bedroom. Once there she knocked on the door.

There was no answer.

"Loki, is Natasha," she called, "I have a question for you."

He didn't say anything and she sighed, hoping he wasn't in one of his moods.

"It's about Jak."

Still nothing, which made her suspicious enough to barge into the room. There he sat, peacefully reading on the bed, not even bothering to look up when she entered.

"Hey. What do you know about Egyptian mythology? Does your family know Ra and Isis and all of them? Are they cousins? Friends at the godly country club?"

He turned the page of his book and continued ignoring her.

"Friday…" Natasha narrowed her eyes, "Do a thermal scan of this room."

"I have sent the thermal scan to your phone," Friday told her.

She spotted her own body heat first in vibrant warm colors and then saw a dark purple spot where Loki sat with a small red heart beating very slowly in his chest. Previous thermal scans had shown the Avengers that Loki had a distinct lack of body heat that Thor quietly explained to them as his Frost Giant heritage. The scan was slightly off when Natasha compared it to previous scans, but there was a heart and there was cold around it, so it had to be Loki, didn't it? His illusions had never been able to fool Friday's scanners before.

"Loki, what is going on? Are you okay?" She stepped closer and waved her hand in front of his eyes. When he didn't even blink, she gingerly touched his shoulder. It sparked green and then his image fell away. "Shit! Dave!"

Dave, a normal civilian man of fifty, was Jaklyn's janitorial replacement and now he sat, encased in ice on Loki's bed. His eyes still moved back and forth beneath the ice and the heart on the thermal scan suggested he was still alive.

"Friday, bring up any medical files about how Nick Fury defrosted Steve Rogers and tell me how to get Dave out of this ice!"

When the task was done and Dr. Cho and her team had taken Dave (who quit on the spot) to the infirmary, Natasha realized what Loki's absence meant. She called up Steve.

"I think Loki's the one who released Fenice," she said without preamble.

"We've got footage of the board for Rebirth breaking him out," Steve replied, "Why do you think it was Loki?"

"What's Loki done?" Thor's voice said in the background.

"He's MIA. He froze the janitor!"

"Is Dave okay?" Steve asked.

"Recovering. We need to find Uriah Fenice," she pressed her hand to her forehead, "If we find him, we find Loki. I'd bet my defunct SHIELD pension on it."

"Only the defunct one?"

"Loki's unpredictable," she rolled her eyes, "Let's keep an open mind to where he might have gone."

"You know, sometimes I miss fighting just regular old Nazi's," he sighed, "Why does there always have to be magic involved these days?"

Chapter Text

One thing that Jak loved about Bucharest was the markets. New York had them too, of course, but the sellers were always snobbish and their prices were outlandish. The markets in Bucharest had a different feeling to them and, generally, the prices were better than any of the grocery stores. The produce was fresher too. It reminded her of shopping long ago, walking arm in arm with her mother or a servant, their baskets at their hips as they selected their purchases.

The bustle of people haggling with vendors, coraling children, or greeting friends was comforting to Jak, even if she couldn't understand what was being said.

"Engleză?" She asked a butcher, looking at the fine roasts he had for sale.

"Nu, scuze," he shrugged sadly.

"Uh…" she searched her language skills, "Cât costă?"

He told her the price. She had no idea if it was fair or not and she didn't really care. If she didn't have enough money in her pocket, she would conjure more for the slips of paper she kept on hand for just such a purpose. The forgery would stay in place until it passed through two more sets of hands, so the butcher would still be able to spend it himself and she didn't have to feel bad for cheating a small business owner.

She counted her real money first and found that she was a few leu short after buying carrots, onions, and potatoes. Just as she was about to reach into her pocket to enchant the paper, the man waved his hand and shook his head. He took the bills in her hand and patted her knuckles.

"All… uh… good!" He gave her a thumbs up. "Bine ați venit în România. Welcome to Romania. Tourist?"

"No," she smiled at him, "Imigrant."

He pointed at her. "American?"

"Da."

He laughed and she laughed with him before thanking him for the meat that he wrapped up for her. He said another phrase in Romanian that she was fairly certain translated to something along the lines of "pretty girl, but not so smart" and then waved her on her way. Jak smiled to herself as she wandered through the market for a bit longer. She'd brought an insulated bag with her and wasn't worried about the meat. She still had a bit of time to explore before she needed to get back and start preparing the meal.

She passed by a booth selling chrysanthemums and stopped to admire them. The orange flowers seemed to glitter in the sunshine and it was until a moment later that she realized they were glittering. With magic. The smell of ash filled her nostrils and a shiver ran down her spine.

"Te văd acolo…" her father's voice sang from a bit behind her, "I see you there, Jessica."

The voice was too far away to be within reach of her. And even if it wasn't, he hadn't put hands on her yet. She knew he would in a moment if she didn't act fast.

"I'm sorry," she told the vendor of the chrysanthemum stall. Then she used her magic to lift every pot of flowers into the air and create a wall behind her as she jumped over the booth and sprinted for the alley behind it. The flowers crashed to the ground and she heard her father laugh.

"Nonononono," she panted as she ran through backstreets and dodged pedestrians, "Shitshitshitshitshit. How the hell did he find me?!"

She felt fingertips graze through her hair and she sent a blast of magic backward. She heard her pursuer stumble and curse loudly, but he was running again in a moment.

"Come back here you ungrateful, inconsiderate, disobedient wretch!" He called, "You're making things worse for yourself! Stop now and perhaps I will show mercy!"

She wanted to yell profanities at him, but she didn't want to waste her breath as she ran. Besides, her mind was too busy trying to figure out which way to go to dodge him. Taking him back to the apartment would be too dangerous. Though she'd freed Bucky's mind of her mother's magic, she couldn't be sure that she'd cleared all of the hypnosis Hydra had used on him and even if she had, what was to stop her father from re-enchanting the Winter Soldier to do his bidding? Bringing her father anywhere near Bucky would be far too dangerous.

She could go to the police, she supposed. They would probably try to stop her father with their guns. It was tempting to let them try, to let them distract him though she now knew guns would not kill him. If she went to the police, however, more people would get hurt in the crossfire and if they somehow managed to subdue him, then they'd ask her questions. Questions that she wasn't sure her fake passport and work visa could answer.

A quiet voice in her head said that she should just stop running. He would catch her eventually and things would be much worse for her if she fought him. Obedience was always easiest when it came to her father, even when it hurt.

"No," she roared, pushing forward. "No!"

She had to stop thinking like that. She had to shake him so that she could, for once in two hundred and fifty years, live the life she wanted. Or perhaps, she couldn't shake him. Perhaps the only way to stop him was to end him.

Before she could plot out how to do that, she felt magic tighten around her ankles and bring her crashing to the ground. Not to be deterred, Jak started crawling. Her father caught up to her in a moment and stepped on her back. She rolled and blasted him with another shot of magic, but it didn't stop him for long before he had immobilized her whole body with magic. She screamed in rage, but couldn't move to do anything.

People around them were filming and shouting. Sirens wailed in the distance. All Jak could focus on was the sneering image of her father looking down at her, enraged.

"I've known where you are for the past two days," he told her, "You dear soldier's arm has a tracking device on it. Once I have you locked away, I'll find him and burn him alive. I hope you're happy with what you've done."

"Let me go!" She shouted at him, "Leave me alone! I'll never stop fighting you if you try to take me with you. I'll never stop trying to get away!"

"You will if I erase your memories and rebuild them in favor of me."

His hand lit up in an orange glow and descended toward her face. But he must have been tired, or maybe it took more energy to hold her in place than it usually did, because she felt the grip on her loosen until she was able to struggle to lift her arms and grab his ankle. She pulled him to the ground and broke free entirely of his magical hold. Calling her own power to her, she lit up like a pink beacon.

"Last chance to forget about me," she told him, building power in her hands, prepared to crush his organs just like she'd done to her mother, "I'll show mercy and let you run away and hide if you go now and pretend you never knew me."

"If you kill me, you'll never know what you are," he told her with a laugh. He didn't look concerned. If anything, he looked pleased at this development as he lay on the ground, staring up at her. "You'll never know what we are meant to accomplish."

"I know what you are," she countered, "You really gave yourself away over the years with all of your aliases… Fencie, Feuer, so many others… I'm surprised I didn't figure it out sooner."

"And what do you think I am?"

"A phoenix," she said, taking a death breath and letting fire erupt on her arms. "That explains how you're alive after Captain America incinerated you. You did die, just as I saw, but you were reborn."

"Your mother was right," he grinned, "You are a bright girl."

"I wonder if you would be reborn if I tear your heart out."

He kept his smile in place, but she saw the way fear flickered through his eyes. She saw the realization that she wanted to kill him. Permanently. And when she saw his poorly concealed terror, she laughed.

"Jessica," he shook his head, "Ruth… no! Jak! Jak, dear, I am your father. If you kill me, I'll be much angrier when I catch up to you again. I'll lock you in a cage because you're a bird too, just like me. There is no one else on earth like us. No one will understand you. You think that Asgardian prince will still love you when he learns you are made of fire?"

"You took him from my memories," she seethed, "I don't need him. I have Bucky."

"I seem to recall the captain was fond of you too," her father rolled his eyes, "I didn't think your mother raised you to be a whore, but it doesn't surprise me."

"Careful how you speak to me, Father, I hold your life in my hands," she pressed her flaming fingertips to his chest, fully intent on burning through his flesh and pulling out his still beating heart.

"Don't be so sure, child." He kicked her and she fell backward. She jumped back to her feet in a moment, but he was already on her, freezing her limbs again and pushing her to her knees. He slowly got off the ground and dusted himself off before looking around at the people who anxiously watched the exchange.

"Don't…" Jak croaked when she realized what he was about to do, "Father don't!"

"It's a bit crowded here for our reunion. Let me fix that."

Flames burst from the ground and engulfed bystanders who screamed in terror and pain. People ran away as Jak kneeled, helpless. Tears trickled down her cheek, cold in comparison to the blaze surrounding them.

"I'll kill you!" She screamed at him, "I'll kill you! You're dead!"

"Shut up," he turned back to her and smiled, hands on hips, "This won't be the first time I've erased a burning corpse from your memory. Last time was the cook. This time a few worthless peasants. Next, I'm thinking Sergeant Barnes on a pyre."

"No!" She sobbed, squeezing her eyes closed, "No, please… Father please don't."

"Don't kill your pet soldier or don't erase your memories?" He laughed, "Don't answer, it doesn't matter. I'm doing both and then I'm taking you away from here. The Avengers have practically given up on finding you already. Once we dispose of the sergeant there will be no trace of you. No one would bother to look for you."

"Oh I wouldn't say that," a devilish voice chuckled.

Jak opened her eyes and looked around. Bodies burned, twitching nearby. People fled. But there was no one else near enough to be heard.

Her father spun around, searching as well. His eyes finally stopped on one of the burning corpses. A crisped, black and red hand raised in greeting and then the cindered person sat up. Bile rose in Jak's mouth as she took in the gruesome sight, but she couldn't look away.

"Sorry for the dramatics," the corpse jumped to its feet and patted out the fire on its kneecap, "I wanted to see what you would do."

"You," Jak's father snarled, "How-?!"

"Please, let's not pretend fooling you is a difficult thing, Uriah."

The corpse's burnt skin fell away in a shimmer of green and revealed pale flesh underneath and sparkling green eyes. Raven hair fell to his shoulders and pearly teeth flashed in a triumphantly wicked smile.

"Loki…" Jak whispered and then looked at the other burning corpses. He caught her looking and flicked his wrist.

"Nothing but an illusion," he assured, "Sorry to put you through seeing that, Jaklyn."

"You'll regret this," her father threw a dozen fireballs in Loki's direction, but he turned each away and left them simmering harmlessly on the pavement.

"That's enough of that," Loki tsked, "Really, can't we talk about this, sorcerer to sorcerer? Or, bird to frost giant as the case may be?"

"Frost giant? You're not… aren't you one of Odin's sons?"

"Adopted," Loki tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, "Rude to bring that up, you know."

"Perhaps we can work something out," Uriah took a step back to stand next to Jak. He grabbed her hair as if he were a dog guarding a toy by clinging to it, "I was too hasty when I dismissed you as a potential suitor for my daughter. After all, adopted or not, you are a prince of the Realm Eternal. You are a god! I am willing to make an arrangement."

"And what do you get out of this arrangement?" Loki asked.

"Asgard's support in my conquest of Midgard," Uriah said hopefully.

"You may recall that, historically, Asgard has not been particularly supportive of that particular endeavor. If Odin would not support my reign, what makes you think he'll do anything but laugh at your plea?"

"Alright, alright… how about this: you can do whatever you want with my daughter, perhaps even marry her if you'd like! And in exchange, you tell no one where I've gone. You let me go, and you help keep the Avengers off my back."

Jak couldn't turn her head to see her father, but she could hear something in his voice that she'd never heard before: true desperation. She'd thought he was afraid of her when she'd been threatening him moments before, but that had been a ruse. He may have actually been alarmed that she planned on ripping his heart out, but he hadn't been worried. Now he trembled. She knew she should feel relieved that someone could put fear into him, but instead she felt a less logical emotion. Envy took root in her heart. It didn't feel fair that Loki could waltz in and scare the shit out of her dad when she had only ever made him annoyed. She wanted her father to fear her too.

"Counter offer," Loki chuckled, but the sound came from behind them this time. "I return you to the Avenger's custody instead of killing you and I still get Jak."

The illusion of Loki in front of them disappeared as the real one slapped a power dampening collar around Jak's father's neck. She felt his magical hold on her release and jumped to her feet.

"What?!" Uriah grabbed at his throat, "No! No! How did you-?!"

"Don't worry about him," Loki turned to Jak as she stared at him, "He's practically worthless without his magic. It's good to see you, Jak, even if you don't remember me."

The problem was, with every moment she spent in his company, she began to remember him more. All of a sudden she could remember the night they met, when she'd fallen through the Realms and he'd turned into a dog. She remembered kicking him and running to Wanda for help. She remembered him following her as she took her suitcase to go wait for the FBI to pick her up the next day. She remembered staying when he convinced her to.

"Thank you," she told him, "For stopping him."

"Well, just between the three of us, I'm the one who orchestrated his escape, so I figured I should probably be the one to capture him again," Loki's smile changed from devious to delighted. Jak could tell that he was excited to see her, to talk with her.

But, as she'd told herself that morning, she didn't care what she'd had with him. It didn't mean anything now. She was with Bucky. And besides, she had more important things to focus on.

"Why was he so afraid when he learned you were a frost giant?" She asked, "I don't know anything about frost giants, except, I suppose that they're cold."

"Right," Loki cleared his throat, "Yes. Very cold. From a place called Jotunheim, also very cold. I only told him to distract him, really. There's an old legend of frost giant's hunting firebirds and freezing their hearts to keep them from being reborn. I only had a hunch of what he was until you confirmed it though."

"Great. I need you to keep that legend in mind for a moment." Jak patted Loki's arm and ignored the butterflies she felt at the contact.

She turned her attention to her father, who was screaming profanities and pulling at the collar around his neck. He didn't have any magic to stop her, so she stepped closer. If he had been in his right mind, he probably would have already tried to run away while Jak and Loki were talking, but he was clearly too distressed about losing his magic to think of it.

Lighting her hand on fire, Jak felt her hair float out behind her and her skin glow bright pink. Loki said her name in a questioning tone, but she ignored him and proceeded toward her father. Uriah turned and looked at her and then his eyes settled on her fire.

"Daughter…" he put his hands up, "Remember that I am your father. I am your only living kin. You and I are the last of our kind-"

"Tell me something, Dad," she grabbed his shirt and the fire licked his chin. "Tell me the truth and I will forgive you everything else."

"What would you like to know?" He put both his hands on her wrist, trying to gently pry her off, but she used her other hand to take her apartment key from her pocket and transform it into a knife. She pressed the blade to his throat.

"Are all of your other offspring dead? No others survived your parenting?"

"All dead, none had magic like you," Uriah flicked a glance at Loki, "I told the Avengers as much when they captured me the first time."

"He's telling the truth," Loki remarked, suddenly right behind Jak, his hand resting on her shoulder. "I can see it in his eyes."

"All dead… except my son," Uriah said and Jak felt a spark of hope.

"I have a brother? He's still alive? Where is he?!"

"He's… working at a construction site right now. He is James Barnes."

"What the fuck?!" Jak screamed, momentarily losing her grip on her knife.

Her father burst into laughter and wouldn't stop until she regained control of the knife and pressed it farther into his throat, her flaming fingertips burning into his chest.

"Sorry! Sorry!" He wiped a tear from his eye, "It was a dad-joke. I couldn't pass up the opportunity. You should have seen your face!"

"James Barnes is not my brother? Right? He's not."

"No, of course not! I hate Brooklyn. I never would have sired a child there. Besides, I had you at the time of his birth. I stopped trying to have children with magic after you were born."

"Good," Jak extinguished her hand. "Thank you, Father. I forgive you."

"Just like that?" Loki spluttered, "He tortures you your whole life and you forgive him after he lied to you to make a stupid joke?!"

"Of course," she turned her knife back into a key and tucked it in her pocket. "I forgive him for making such a terrible joke and nearly giving me a heart attack."

She plunged her hand, a flaming inferno, into her father's chest and melted his ribs as the smell of cooking flesh filled her nose. Her fingers found purchase on his heart. It was hard, like diamond and she wretched it out of his chest. His eyes went wide.

"Winnet…"

"I forgive nothing else," she pushed the body backward as it breathed its last and then handed the heart to Loki, "Freeze it."

He stared, wide-eyed at the corpse and then looked back at her and the blood covered heart in her hand. He opened and closed his mouth, blinking.

"You… wow," he shook his head and then took the proffered heart, "I know that you think you're in love with Bucky Barnes right now, but if this was a marriage proposal, I accept."

"What?"

"I want to see you in battle," he laughed, staring at her, "I want to see you rip out more hearts."

"Just freeze that one," she huffed, already experiencing too many confusing emotions for this conversation. "If you can't, I'll toss it in the ocean or something. It's probably difficult for a firebird to be reborn in the middle of the Atlantic, right?"

"Sorry, sorry, I'm just," he looked at the heart as ice crystals formed over it, "I'm just a bit enamored with you at the moment, elskan mín."

"Don't call me that," she snatched the frozen heart back from him. She picked up her insulated shopping bag and stuck the body part in there next to her slightly squashed roast. "Thanks for your help. Goodbye."

"Goodbye?"

"Like you said, I love Bucky." She started walking in the direction of the apartment. She wasn't sure how vast of an illusion he'd cast when she and her father had been fighting, but there were no people or police around to stop her from leaving the scene of the crime.

"No, no, no, you don't," he hurried to catch up with her, "You just think you do. Once you get your memories back…"

He reached out to touch her forehead, but she grabbed his wrist and looked him in the eye. She was tempted to turn the fire on again, but her slowly rising memories of him gently touching her face and holding her hand stopped her. She shook her head and scowled.

"You'd better keep your hands to yourself unless you really do want to see me rip out more hearts. Yours specifically. I don't care what we were. I don't want those memories back. I want to live my new life here."

"Jak," he lowered his hand and watched her closely, "You're lying. To me and to yourself. You do want your memories back and I can free them for you."

Before she could be tempted to say "yes", her mind screaming at her to let him, she dropped his wrist and threw a blast of magic at him to push him away from her. He flew back and hit a building, leaving a dent in the wall. Another memory flared up, one of him breaking air conditioners and her throwing him off the roof. She shook it away and ran.

Chapter Text

"Bucky will be home soon," Jak told herself as she wove through alleys and backroads. She changed her appearance three times with magic and hid inside a cafe for twenty minutes. She stopped and laughed with strangers in her disguises, pretending to be anyone but herself. She acted scared, at ease, scared again, and then bored. Doing anything she could to keep a potential watcher from following her home.

She, perhaps, put more effort into her disguises than she needed to because she had to do something to keep her mind from trying to remember things she didn't want. Flashes of smiles meant just for her, magic lessons, and holding hands came into sharp focus unbidden and for once, she pushed them all away. It didn't matter anymore that it was time out of her life that she was missing. She had a new life. She had a new life. She had a new life.

"If this was a marriage proposal, I accept."

"Once you get your memories back…"

"I know that you think you're in love with Bucky…"

"I'm just a bit enamored with you at the moment, elskan mín."

"Shut up!" She growled at herself, startling another pedestrian.

Once she was certain that she had lost Loki in the crowds of Bucharest, she finally made her way home. When she saw their apartment building in front of her, she breathed a sigh of relief. She'd spent so long running around the city that it was nearly five thirty already. Bucky would be off work at six and then she could warn him about Loki in the area. A small part of her didn't want to tell him because she knew he'd want to leave Romania. If Loki knew they were there then the Avengers might know. They would have to leave their little home.

Inside, she adjusted the shopping bag on her shoulder and looked up the long stairwell with a sigh. The next place they lived, she'd make sure they were on the first floor even if Bucky preferred the tactical advantage of a high up place. Either that or she would make him do all the shopping.

Just as she set her foot on the first step, a flash of green flew through the door and knocked her on her ass. With a groan, she ignited her hands and turned toward Loki, who, of course, stood by the door, an annoyed frown on his face.

"It's not so fun to be knocked around with magic, is it?" He scowled at her. "You threw me into a building!"

"Lightly," she snapped. "You've taken much worse hits than that!"

"Have I? How would you know if you are so insistent that you don't want to remember me?"

"I… I remember throwing you off a roof," she admitted and then tossed a warning shot at him, "Come any closer and I'll drag you to the top of this building and do it again."

"You think you could overpower me?" He chuckled, "Jak, I taught you. I know what you're capable of-hey don't do that!"

It was a struggle, but she managed to lift him off the ground with her magic and hoist him up through the spiral of stairs. He got about seven stories up before she lost control and dropped him. He yelped and caught himself on the railing, pulling himself up and over. Jak flipped him off and then hurried back outside. So much for putting the roast in the fridge.

"Hey, doll, you just get back?" Bucky smiled at her as he walked into the courtyard of the building with an easy swagger. "Doesn't a roast take a while to cook?"

"Go, go, go!" She grabbed his arm and pulled him with her as she ran. He didn't even ask her what they were running from before running with her. A moment later, Loki sprinted after them. Jak threw a blast behind them as they ran, but her aim was off.

"Shit! What's he want?" Bucky pulled her arm and yanked her around a corner.

"Doesn't matter, he's not getting it," she replied. As she ran, she unzipped the insulated bag and pulled out the frozen heart. She tossed the rest of the bag behind her, briefly mourning the roast she could have made.

"Is that… I'm sorry, is that a human heart?!" Bucky looked mildly grossed out.

"Not a human one," she shoved it in her jacket pocket, "My father found me at the market. Loki helped me kill him and then he followed me home even though I told him to piss off."

"And why do you have his heart?! Couldn't you have left it with the rest of him?"

"Not if we want him to stay dead."

"I'm not going to question that right now. We're going to lose Loki and then we're going to-"

"Do tell," Loki strolled out of an alley with a cheshire smile on his face. Jak, having just seen his illusions when he fought her father, plowed onward and pulled Bucky along with her. As it turned out, the Loki in the apartment building had been an illusion and this one was very, very solid.

"Ow! Shit!" Jak hit his chest dead on and bounced back. Before she could fall completely, Loki grabbed her shoulders and spun her around so her back was flush with his chest. Bucky stood in front of her now, watching Loki closely and slowly taking a knife from his belt.

"Let her go," he said in a cold voice. "She doesn't want to go with you, pal."

"James Barnes," Loki said slowly, speaking the name like an insult, "I put a knife in you before. I'll try not to kill you for Jak's sake, but it would be my great pleasure to stab you again."

"Loki, don't you have better things to do than chase ex-girlfriends? This is pathetic," Jak snarled, wiggling as best she was able in his iron grip. She tried to throw her elbow into his gut, but he restrained her too well.

"She's right," Bucky said, dropping into a fighting stance, knife in hand. He watched them like a wolf trying to find the best way to bite without getting bitten. "You're basically a god, right? I'm sure a guy like you has a busy schedule."

"Yeah, too busy to be forcing someone who doesn't even like you to be with you!" Jak lit her arms on fire and Loki briefly let her go before quickly hugging her to him again, ice on his arms, burning her right back with cold.

"That's not what I'm here for!" He protested, his voice cracking slightly. "I will not force you to come back to me, Jaklyn. I miss you, I want you, but I am used to losing and I will not hurt you over petty jealousy."

"Then what do you want?!"

She was shivering now, trying her best to conjure fire, but failing in the face of the ice crystals on her arms.

"Stop freezing her!" Bucky ordered firmly. Loki looked down and backed off the ice.

"I want you to remember me," he said, "I want you to remember us. Then you can go. You can do whatever you want, I won't tell the Avengers or anyone else where you are. I'll even cloak you from Heimdall's vision if you wish it. No one on Asgard or Earth will be able to find you."

"I don't want to remember you," Jak was no longer cold, but she still shook with shivers. "What good would that do me?"

"None," Loki told her with a sharp laugh, "But if everything we had is over, then I think it is unfair that I am the only one who should remember what we had in the first place."

"Jak," Bucky looked at her.

"I'm not doing it," she shook her head, "I don't want those memories. I want you, Bucky. I don't want any reason to doubt you and me together."

"Jak. I think you should."

"No!" She threw her head back in an attempt to hurt Loki, but he was too tall. "No, Bucky. It's stupid. I'm not… I'm not doing that. I have you. I don't need any memory of him."

"Then aren't you already doubting us?" Bucky slowly straightened up and let his knife hang by his side. "If you're so uncertain about me that you think a few memories are going to pull us apart, then what's the point of us anyway?"

She stopped thrashing about and looked at the hurt on his face. Still, his eyes were calm and he didn't look like he hated her. He looked sad.

"Bucky, that's not-"

"You gave me my memories back even when I thought I didn't want them, when I was nothing but a blank killing machine," he told her and then looked at Loki and nodded, "I'm going to give you yours back even if you end up choosing him."

"Wait! No, don't!" Jak saw Loki's fingertips lift toward her face and gently touch her forehead. It was like a key unlocking a door in her head. Golden images of time spent with Loki hurried to the forefront of her mind. She saw them training together, she saw him whispering in her ear, holding her hand, comforting and arguing with her. She saw their first date and the disaster that followed. She felt every little flutter of her heart when he was near her and the way he'd held her when they were last together. She lingered on that memory too long, watching him kiss and hold her as the FBI vehicle waited in the background.

"I was worried you weren't going to say goodbye," she gripped the front of his jacket and stared at him. She was pleased to see that familiar toothy grin on his face, even if there was trouble in his eyes.

"You aren't getting away that easily," he told her, leaning in close, pressing his mouth near her ear, "After all, I have to remind you why you need to come back, don't I?"

Before she could say anything, he was kissing her. His lips were all over her face and just under her jaw in a matter of seconds. If they hadn't been in public, she suspected his mouth would have moved even lower than her neck, but the agent - her father in disguise - cleared his throat before things got too exciting. With one last, fierce kiss on the lips that Jak returned, weaving her fingers into his hair, Loki finally set her down. His hands lingered around her waist, holding her close to him and she was reluctant to back away.

"You'll think of me," he said, not as a request, but a statement, "You'll think of me every moment you're away."

"Well," she replied breathlessly, "I should probably spend some time thinking about the parole board too."

"Then dream of me every night," he whispered in her ear, his chest rumbling as he spoke.

"Dream a little dream of me…" Jak whispered, opening her eyes as Loki stopped touching her and backed away. Both he and Bucky watched her with keen interest. She pressed a hand to her forehead, though it hurt less than it had in months.

Bucky and Loki flicked a glance at each other and then looked back at her. She could tell they wanted her to say or do something. Perhaps they were waiting for a declaration of love or for her to run into one of their arms.

"How do you feel?" Bucky finally asked. "You… okay? You're still yourself, right? Loki, you didn't scramble up her personality or anything, right?"

"Please, I am too great a sorcerer to botch the job that badly."

"I just met you, man, how am I supposed to know how good of a wizard you are?"

"Loki…" Jak said slowly, watching Bucky try to hide his crestfallen expression. "Loki, will my father's heart stay frozen forever?"

"I can't be sure. All I know of firebird's comes from legends."

"In that case, here," she handed him the heart, "I want you to safeguard this. I'm trusting you to never let it thaw. To never let him come back."

"I will see it done," he vowed, tucking the heart into some pocket, "Do you remember the love we had for each other now? I would happily guard your heart too."

"It's okay if you do," Bucky piped up, "But I can't make any promises about not trying to win you back."

"Who else knows that Bucky and I have been living in Bucharest?"

"No one," Loki shook his head, "I freed your father just so I could follow him to you, but I didn't tell anyone where I was going."

"You're going to be in trouble when you get back if they know you freed him," Jak winced, "Are you going back to the Avengers?"

"Will you come with me?" He asked.

"If I don't, what will you do?"

"Well," he sighed and crossed his arms, "Thor is there and apart from you, he is the only one who cares about me in the universe. I will return to the Compound and face whatever consequences they have for me."

"Bucky, how do you feel about going to the Compound?" She asked.

"I can't," he shook his head. "I killed some people who matter to the Avengers. I can't make them accept me."

"I killed their precious Phil Coulson and they seem fine with it now," Loki shrugged, "I'm sure they'll get over it if you truly do want to return with - what am I saying? I don't want you to live at the Compound. They'll hate you forever and lock you up."

"That's probably true, actually," Bucky laughed and looked at her, "I won't go back. But I understand if you want to."

"Loki, will you keep Bucky's hiding place a secret?" Jak took a deep breath and reached out to hold his hand, "For me?"

He squeezed her hand and nodded.

"So, Loki, you're going back to New York. Bucky, you'll be safe in Bucharest."

"And you're going… where?" Bucky asked. He studied her face for a moment and then smiled sadly. "Neither of those places."

"I don't have to return to New York," Loki said, "If you allow me, I will run away with you, wherever you want to go."

"Some day, I do want to see space with you," she told him, "I want you to show me the stars. You said you would and I'm holding you to it. But for now, I think I want to be alone."

"You want to see if you can be on your own," Loki's eyes filled with understanding. He recalled the conversation they'd had when she was packing her suitcase and she was glad of it.

"With you two around to save me all the time it's hard to know. I can't let myself become a damsel in distress, can I?" She smiled at him.

"No," he smiled back, "You are a ferocious supervillain."

"And not even all that reformed," she laughed, "Jimmy Woo would be so disappointed that I ran away from the government and ripped someone's heart out."

"I love that you two are reconnecting, I really do," Bucky stepped forward and put his hands on his hips, eyeing Loki with the slightest bit of disdain before looking back at her, "But let me make sure I understand this. You're going it alone from here? Where are you going to go?"

"Wherever I want," she grinned, "And I'm going to do whatever I want."

"You can do that with me," he offered, though from his voice, it was a halfhearted offer.

"I know. And maybe after a while, I will. But you have your own demons to fight, Bucky. I just killed mine and I want to see a world without my father, without my mother, without the government, without… you or Loki. I want to see what it's like by myself."

"Jak's world," Bucky teased her, "Just don't go too far down the supervillain pipeline, alright? Or I might actually go back to Steve and we'll have to knock you down a few pegs."

"If you do and you want help fighting him and the Captain, just give me a call," Loki offered, "World domination is more fun with a friend. Or a boyfriend."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Chapter Text

Loki disliked being in Jak and Barnes' apartment, but until Jak left the building, he wasn't leaving either. He respected that she wanted to go out on her own, but he had the nagging thought that she was lying to him and planned on staying with Barnes the moment he left. That, he would not allow. Not now that she had her memories back and he saw the longing way she looked at him. The way her eyes filled with regret every time she thought of what they had. He would give her space to be on her own, but he knew that she would come back to him eventually.

So, he waited while she pulled a backpack out of the floorboards and joked with Barnes about how they'd just hidden the "go-bags" a few days previous. Loki watched her out of the corner of his eye, but while he watched, he looked around the tiny apartment. There was gauzy fabric over the windows. Floral towels hanging from bars in the kitchen area. A pink cushion on the chair. He noted the singular mattress, but didn't linger on it. She was an adult. She'd thought she loved Bucky Barnes. He didn't need to know what decisions had followed.

The apartment was a bit run down, but Loki could see the lingering wisps of happy domestic life. The bed was carefully, neatly made. There were a handful of dishes in the sink and various utensils. Everything looked well used. An old, vicious voice in his head scoffed at the tiny tidy apartment and whispered that he ought to steal Jak away to Asgard and show her what sort of life he could offer her as a prince. But he was hardly a prince any more and Odin despised Midgardians. He probably wouldn't even care that Jak wasn't fully human, or worse, he'd see a phoenix as a rare prize and lock her in a cage in his vault. Another stolen trophy.

"I'm going to miss this place," Jak told Barnes, "You never did repair that broken tile above the sink."

"I'll do it eventually," he smiled at her, "You'll have to visit so I can prove it to you."

"What will you tell Cezar and his wife? What will you tell the neighbors and the landlord? Wives don't just disappear!" She lightly grabbed his metal arm and Loki hated the familiarity of the action, paired with the idea that she was a "wife". He knew it was just their cover. If she'd truly married Barnes, she wouldn't be leaving him, she wouldn't have even considered Loki. Jak wasn't the type to turn her back on promises.

"I'll tell them that your father is sick and possibly dying," Bucky smirked, "Heart condition."

"How terrible," Jak rolled her eyes.

"I'll let them know that you went back to the States. Update them now and then and tell them you want to be with your dad in his last days but that he's taking forever to die. By the time that story runs out of steam, I'll have moved somewhere else."

"Oh? Where will you go?" She asked, a note of worry wobbling over her lips. Loki didn't like that either. He didn't want her to be worried about Barnes. He wanted Barnes to disappear.

"I'll send you a postcard when I figure it out," he shrugged, "Do they still do that? Send postcards?"

"I have no idea. And I don't know what address you'd send it to."

"Hmm, better exchange emails then," Loki said sarcastically. "Less hassle."

"You know, you can go," Barnes glared at him, though his mouth was still in a pleasant smile, "Pretty sure no one is making you stay."

"I will see Jak off."

"I think I'm going to board a boat," she said, smiling at each of them and hugging her backpack to her, "The first passenger ship I see. It's been decades since I've traveled on the water. I can only assume it has improved along with everything else in this modern age."

"Marginally," Barnes laughed.

"Ought a phoenix really be traveling by water?" Loki asked, "I'd hate for your fire to be snuffed out."

"I'll be fine," she dismissed, "You know what else I'm going to do? I'm going to find out if there are any other firebirds. Just because I'm the only one of my father's offspring left, that doesn't mean there aren't others like me out there. How difficult can they be to find?"

"Historically? Very," Loki looked her up and down, "You are an oddity, Jak."

"Do you know, Loki, if phoenixes are native to this planet? You said that frost giants hunted them. Does that mean they're from Asgard or… the cold place you mentioned? Jotunheim?"

"I only saw one phoenix before meeting you and your father, but it was far more bird shaped and it was part of a circus. The circus master didn't mention where he'd gotten it from," he reached out and took her hand. "I will see what information I can find for you on the subject, next time I am in Asgard."

"Thank you," she brushed her thumb across his knuckles and then let him go. "Now, I'd better be going. I don't want to push my luck by making the two of you stay in a room together much longer. The building might get leveled."

They walked her to the train station. It was nearly a five hour train ride to the Black Sea, and from there she would be boarding a passenger ship of some sort and going to Istanbul (which Jak kept accidentally calling Constantinople and then singing the letters that spelled out the name and then singing "show your pluck, try your luck, sing it loud with me" which Barnes laughed heartily at and sang the spelling with her). Loki wondered if Constantinople had anything to do with Odin's old Midgardian friend, Constantine, but didn't bother to ask, not wanting to waste his last moments with Jak on foolish questions he could ask Vision to Google for him later.

No, he chided himself, they would not be his last moments with her. Just his last moments until she realized that she missed him and wanted him back. He just had to be patient.

"Well," she looked at the screen in the train station that listed arrivals and departures, "Here we are. Time for goodbyes."

"May the next time we meet not be in prison… for once," Barnes slung an arm around her shoulders, pulled her in close and kissed the top of her head. Loki waited until the soldier let her go and then waited a moment longer as she brushed tears from her eyes.

"Thank you for everything, Bucky," she tapped his metal arm, "Next time I see you, this thing had better be repainted, got it?"

"What name am I putting on there?" He grinned at her, "'Jak' seems to be sticking."

"I never planned on being Jak forever," she sighed, "But since the people I like have gotten used to it, I guess I will be."

"And what name are you traveling under?" He asked her, brow raised.

"My parents always picked boring names so I thought I'd choose something grand," she flicked her wrist and conjured a passport, "Seraphina Falkner."

"Fancy," Barnes nodded, "I like it."

"And you said your father had obvious aliases," Loki laughed.

"Hey, nobody thinks too hard about what people's names mean," she lightly punched his arm, "It took me two centuries to realize that my dad was a phoenix. No one is going to see a name that means fire and surname that means falcon and figure it out. Or, if they do, maybe they're a phoenix themselves."

"You will be careful when meeting these other firebirds," he told her, taking her hand and pressing his lips to the back of it. He wanted to pull her in for a long, lingering goodbye, as he had done before she was kidnapped, but he didn't want to end their time together by fighting Bucky Barnes in front of her.

"Of course I will," she told him and then gave him a hug, "You'll be careful with the Avengers, won't you?"

"Don't worry about them. They're too busy fighting their own little tiffs to pay any mind to me and my plots," he breathed in the scent of her hair. It was oddly fruity.

"I'm sorry things went the way they did," she whispered to him, "For the record, I really enjoyed dating you."

"And perhaps you will again some day," he brushed his lips against her ear as he spoke and then pulled away from her abruptly. He'd leave her longing for more time with him, but absence couldn't make the heart grow fond if there was no absence to begin with. So, he took a few steps back.

"Right," she was blushing, which he took to be a point in his favor, "I'd better… I think my train is here."

"See ya later, doll," Barnes mock saluted her as she slowly backed away from both of them.

"When I see you again, I have a request for you," Loki told her.

"What's that?"

"You are a beautiful dancer, but you've never danced with me," he crossed his arms and watched her smile as she backed away, "You can pick what style, you can even pick the music, just so long as I get to hold you close."

"You have my word," she called, finally turning away from them, "As long as you keep your promise to show me the stars."

With that, she boarded her train and didn't look back. Once the train pulled out of the station, Barnes punched him and Loki kicked back. The scuffle would have continued if a police officer didn't start blowing his whistle and send them running like two misbehaving teenagers.

"She's not going to pick you, you know," Barnes told him as they began to part ways.

"Oh no?"

"I've known her longer."

"I've known her better," Loki replied with a flip of his hair.

Barnes regarded him with a cool stare for a moment before smiling and tossing his own hair. "What side of the bed does she prefer?"

Loki pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. "Goodbye, James Barnes. May we never meet again."

"And if we do, may it be in a location where we can beat the shit out of each other," Barnes gave him a regal bow and then shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets and walked off. Loki bristled, for once annoyed to have someone bowing to him. He shook it off and made his way home.

.

.

"You might want to turn around and leave," Wanda told Loki the moment he set foot in the Avengers Compound lobby. She was leaning up against the wall and watching him with a guarded expression. She had not quite forgiven him for the horrors he'd shown her when she tried to control him. He hadn't quite forgiven her either, so that suited him just fine.

"And why is that?" He stopped and looked around the room.

"Before I tell you and you make a run for it," Wanda pushed away from the wall and stepped closer, lowering her voice to a whisper, "Did you find her?"

"I did," he nodded and then lied because Wanda was an Avenger, "In Canada with Barnes. I restored her memories to her and then we parted ways. Barnes went off on his own as well."

"And Fenice?"

Loki took the heart from the pocket he'd stashed it in and showed it to her.

"As long as we keep this frozen, he's dead. My apologies to the U.S. government for damaging their fugitive."

"It's not them you're going to have to apologize to if you stick around," Wanda beckoned him to follow her and then pointed out the window at the lawn. There were scorch marks burned in the grass, still smoking. "Your dad's here and he's unhappy."

"Ah," Loki swallowed nervously. He didn't bother to say anything else. Wanda, with her abilities, knew exactly how he felt about the situation.

"I won't stop you if you run, but Friday has already alerted Thor that you're here."

"I suppose he's peeved too?"

"More like… pissed off."

"He'll only be angrier if I make him run after me," Loki sighed and tucked the phoenix heart away. He smoothed his hair back, straightened his jacket, and went to meet his family.

When he saw the manacles and a retinue of guards, he wished he'd run.

"A gift for me? And here I am with nothing. How embarrassing," he said, sauntering slowly toward Odin and Thor as they stared daggers at him. He cleared his throat and stood at attention. "Hello, Allfather. Thor."

"Loki… where did you go?" Thor sounded more hurt than anything, but there was still anger on his face. Loki missed the conspiratorial smiles they'd shared a few days previous, when discussing the Captain's plan to let Bucky and Jak go free. He supposed he had, once again, shattered his brother's trust in him.

"Oh, Canada," Loki replied, sticking with the lie he'd told Wanda. It ought to throw the Avengers off Jak and Bucky's trails for a bit longer.

"Why did you break Uriah Fenice out of prison?! We had a plan! You lost him, didn't you? He's on the loose now and he's going to hurt people! You were reckless and thoughtless and acted foolishly!"

"Do not dig your brother's grave for him," Odin said, cutting off Thor's rant. "Where is the criminal you released?"

"Dead," Loki didn't look Odin in the eye. After Frigga was killed, when Loki met with Odin and was told he would spend a probationary period on Midgard, he hadn't been able to look him in the eye then either. Not without Frigga standing beside him, softening the blows.

"He was not yours to kill."

"No, he wasn't," Loki looked at Thor instead, "And I didn't."

"Who, then?" Thor asked and then realized the answer, "You found Jaklyn."

"Uriah Fenice was hers to kill, and she did," he let out a small laugh, "Quite mercilessly, I might add."

"You broke Midgardian law," Odin continued, "The Midgardian authorities will no longer extend their hospitality to you."

"I will make amends," Loki decided. It couldn't be that hard. "Become an Avenger."

"I grow tired of my sons meddling in the affairs of earth when there are greater problems plaguing the Nine Realms. Enemies of Asgard rise while its princes play at being mortals," Odin nodded at the guards and they quickly moved toward Loki.

He put his hands up and backed quickly away from them.

"Allfather, please, let's not be hasty."

"I have made my decision. I should have made it sooner."

"Father, wait, Midgard still needs our help. Can you not see that there is trouble brewing here? Midgard is one of the Nine Realms. We owe it our protection as much as any other realm," Thor said, his anger changing to concern.

"Was it not you, my son, who proclaimed that he would go on a quest to find the Infinity Stones? Was it not you who remarked that something must be done now that they are making themselves known so rapidly? What has become of that quest?" Odin fixed his one eyed stare on his older son.

"I am getting to it," Thor replied awkwardly, "There have been other things to attend to. Getting Loki settled. The janitor and…"

"Jane Foster?" Odin mocked, "Enough excuses. You will do your duty to the realms. You will be the prince you are meant to be. My time on this plain is drawing to a close-"

"You've been saying that for centuries," Thor laughed.

Loki did his best to follow along with the conversation while dodging guards, but it was getting more difficult.

"We, the three of us, shall return to Asgard. And we shall right the chaos in the realms," Odin gestured once more to his guards and they dove for Loki.

"Wait! No, stop!" Loki fought back, dreading the clinking sound of those manacles. Dreading the idea of being tossed in the dungeons once more, whiling away his days on books and prison gossip while the worlds moved on without him. While his family moved and put themselves at risk while he sat, too safe behind golden walls.

"Do not prolong the inevitable."

"Father, please," Loki did not like to beg, but he was panicked. "Let's talk this through."

"The time for words is done," Odin swept his cloak majestically as he turned toward the door, "Now is the time for action."

"Thor, Thor," Loki called to his brother as the guards wrestled him into the manacles, "Thor! Don't let him do this, Thor! Think of Jane! He's taking you from her! He may never let you see her again!"

"He would not have done this," Thor passed by Loki and glared at him, "If not for your actions. Who am I to disobey the Allfather?"

"I-I'm sorry," Loki choked out before another guard slapped a muzzle over his mouth. The cold metal against his face reminded him of when he'd been brought home in chains the first time. Of the day of his invasion and the echoing voice of madness in his head. He could almost hear that deep laughter now. The earth's mightiest heroes were abandoning earth. Leaving Infinity Stones ripe for the taking. Leaving every person on the planet at risk of a far greater threat than Loki.

Would Jak survive it? Would she escape the massacre? Would she try to fight alongside the Avengers? Would she be torn asunder?

Odin was a fool for taking Thor from Midgard. He was leaving the mortals practically defenseless. Loki knew the rest of the Avengers could hold off human threats, but could they possibly do anything against such a threat as their inevitable doom-bringer?

As the guards dragged him through the lobby, his frantic gaze caught on Wanda, watching the sad procession with curiosity and pity. Loki stared at her and felt a small spark of hope light in his chest. He looked at her and pressed his thought to her eyes while she watched on.

Prepare yourself. Prepare yourself and your realm. The Mad Titan will come and he will ruin all.

It was all he could pass on to her before he was shoved into the runes on the lawn and the Bifrost enveloped him.

Chapter Text

"We never did find Uriah Fenice's house," Steve said to Wanda as the two of them reviewed security footage of the night of the gala, "I think we start by finding that and then maybe something will lead us to Bucky and Jak."

"I got the sense that Loki was not being entirely truthful when he said he'd found them in Canada," Wanda admitted, "But he hid his thoughts from me, so I don't know where he actually went."

"And with his magic it would be impossible to figure out what flight he was on if he flew somewhere," Steve sighed, "We'll still start by trying to find the house. Who knows what other secrets Uriah was hiding, we may find something we didn't know we were looking for."

"If the house is hidden in magic, it may be a long process to find it," Wanda said, "Especially now that Loki is gone and I am the sole magic user in the building."

Her voice was sad and Steve turned to look at her.

"It's got to be weird for you not to have Jak here."

"She was the first of you to actually trust me," Wanda smiled softly, "Clint Barton recruited me and checked in on me, but he trusts very few people. Jak and I understood each other."

"I hope you know we all trust you now," he put a hand on her shoulder. "You've saved hundreds of lives as an Avenger and you're a good friend too. You were a good friend to Jak."

"I don't blame her for running away," she sighed, "She was never meant to be caged and she stayed here far too long."

"I wish we could have convinced her to sign on as an Avenger. She would have made a damn good superhero."

"Yes… but it would have just been another cage. She has been following orders for two hundred and fifty years. She needs to be in charge of herself for a while, I think."

"You're not wrong," Steve looked back at the monitor, "I wonder if Bucky feels the same way. I wonder if he just wants to be on his own after being under Hydra's thumb for so long and that's why he hasn't come back."

"He is probably confused. And hurt. And enjoying his time with Jak if they are still together. I only picked up pieces of Jak's memories, but she knew him. She knew him long ago and they supported each other. They were something more than friends."

"Huh," Steve scratched his chin and considered it, feeling a brief, but quickly squashed pang of jealousy, "Bucky always was a big flirt."

"Cap, Wanda, get to the briefing room," Natasha's voice said over the speakers, "We've got news that can't wait."

Putting aside thoughts of Jak and Bucky, the two Avengers made their way to meet up with the rest of the team. It was odd to have Tony missing after he'd been with them for the past few months, but some of the tension from those months was alleviated without both him and Steve in a room together.

"Thor's out, Tony's out, and against my best wishes, Barton's still retired," Natasha said by way of greeting as the team gathered, "So it'll just be us."

"What are we up against?" Sam asked.

"Brock Rumlow," Natasha gestured to the screen in the briefing room and a picture of a man in a skull mask popped up, "We got a hit. He's headed for Lagos. Nigeria."

"Sounds like we're going on a trip," Wanda smiled.

"Let's figure out what we're doing when we get there."

Chapter Text

"Uriah Fenice is dead and five of our members are in prison because they were tricked into breaking him out," a board member of the company Rebirth said from his seat at the head of the table. He knew it was a risky gamble to take that seat when the higher ups had not yet decided who would fill the void left by Fenice, but Hydra sects could not be without a leader for long. He and his close ally at Rebirth had already grown into the two heads to replace the one chopped off.

"Along with Uriah goes our fountain of youth," the other new head continued from the opposite end of the table. "His magic as a phoenix has kept us young these past fifty years. I don't think any of us are excited to melt back into the wrinkled war veterans, hiding in Argentina that we were when Uriah found us after his renewal from his death at Steven Roger's hand."

"So what do we do? What other option do we have to stay young?" A man, who was already beginning to show signs of his age again, asked, fingers bending in a gnarled way.

"There are relics on this earth," someone piped up. "There are magics we have not yet explored. The other heads have no interest in this pursuit. They want to leave us in the past."

"They care not that we age and die," the first board member agreed. "They are so focused on their goal of domination-"

"An admirable goal to be sure!"

"-that they have not considered how our rule might be sustained once we achieve it."

"What do they think will happen when they grow old? What assurances do they have in place to make certain that the next generation upholds our values?"

"None."

"They have nothing."

"If we find these magics, if we find our next Uriah, then we can live forever! We can all live forever! Our protective administration of earth will never waver."

"The other sects would prefer that we focus our attention to other avenues."

"Smuggling."

"Assassinations."

"Common terrorism."

"Bah! Let them think we are compliant. Let them believe we are doing as they say. In the meantime, we will be working a greater good. We will find our fountain of youth and we will ensure that Hydra rules forever!"

"And I do not think we will have to search long to find our miracle," one of the heads said. He pushed a button on his laptop with aplomb, intending to put a picture on the powerpoint on the wall, but nothing happened. He pushed the button again, but the Rebirth logo presiding over the conference room did not move. He tried pushing a few other buttons, but only managed to turn off the projector. Annoyed, he gestured to the intern in the room, who hurried forward and got the powerpoint up and running again and then progressed the slide to display a picture.

"Why should we look for another cure for our ailments, when the next phoenix is already known to us? Behold, Uriah Fenice's daughter."

The board nodded, looking at the grainy security footage of a seemingly-young woman with pink hair, running arm in arm with the Winter Soldier as they exited the disastrous gala. They had all seen her use her magic. They had seen the way her skin glowed with the power of her father… and perhaps of her mother a little as well.

"She has gone by many names, like her father before her. Most recently, she has been known as Jaklyn Baker - custodian to the Avengers!"

Boos and hisses of disapproval filled the room when the intern progressed the slide again and an image of her, holding a mop inside Avengers Tower displayed. She looked forlorn, but the intern progressed the slide again and showed her in Avengers Compound, looking happier, sparring with Loki.

"Loki, God of Lies, Mischief, and Tricks - who attempted the salvation of this planet during his battle on New York - finds Jaklyn Baker pleasing. Uriah thought to discourage this union, but I say we ought to do everything in our power to bring our phoenix and our God of Lies together. Let them usher us into a new, shining, glorious era! And let their power make us gloriously young once again!"

The word "glorious" had been a popular buzzword amongst this sect of Hydra ever since they'd watched Loki's speech in Germany. Many of them went to sleep at night listening to the soothing vigor of that recording, knowing it promised them the freedom that much of the world turned their nose up at.

"But where has our phoenix gone?"

"And what of the Winter Soldier? Ought we not get him back on a leash?"

"Before he was killed, Uriah sent us a message from Romania. That is where we shall begin our search."

"We must be careful. The Avengers know who we are now. The only reason we do not rot in prison is because we were careful. They have no damning proof that we are Hydra, but they will be watching."

"Like a hawk…"

There was a silence when everyone turned to look at the last person to speak.

"What?"

"Why did you say that so ominously?"

"It sounded like you were about to reveal that you are Hawkeye."

"No! No, I'm sorry! I forgot one of them had a hawk motif! Uh… like a falcon? No, wait, sorry, one of them is a falcon too, isn't he?"

"You aren't easing our minds that you aren't an Avenger in disguise, Karl."

"Sorry. I swear I'm not. Can we just carry on with the proceedings?"

Eyes remained narrowed at Karl.

"Hail Hydra?"

The board relaxed. "Hail Hydra!"

Chapter Text

A week after Jak left Bucharest:

Even with full control of her magic, Jak was surprised at how easy it was to break into the FBI's evidence storage facility. It made her wonder if they really ought to be the ones guarding all of the things that they were guarding. Part of her felt bad for them, knowing that they had not been the original keepers of many of the items.

When SHIELD had fallen to pieces, evidence was dispersed amongst different federal agencies that had the most claim to various cases that were previously under SHIELD's jurisdiction. The poor FBI probably didn't know what to do with the shipping container full of historical and magical objects that had once belonged to Jak and her mother, but since they'd gotten custody of Jak, they got saddled with her box of stuff. Really, it would be in everyone's best interest if she lightened the burden for them.

It didn't take her long, in her federal disguise, to get into the huge evidence warehouse and find the shipping container she was looking for. Her mother had given it a distinct magical aura so that they could always locate it, regardless of where they hid it. The container was old. They'd purchased it in the sixties and filled it with various odds and ends that moved with them across the globe over the centuries. Of course, they hadn't been able to keep everything, but once they got the shipping container, it was much easier to transfer their treasured belongings and reminders of the days gone by.

Before she'd begun her parole, back when her mother was still alive, Jak had loved opening the container and seeing old familiar things. Furniture from old homes. Clothing that hadn't been in fashion for decades. Magical artifacts that no one had ever explained to her. It was, she supposed, like going up into an attic to see hints of the lives of people long dead, but instead it was hints of her own past.

The door creaked when she opened it, but she had a conjured badge and an official looking inventory clipboard, so she wasn't worried about being questioned.

"Oh hell, I forgot about you!"

She jumped back in surprise when the first thing she saw was a huge, taxidermied bear. Evidently, her father had killed it as a wedding gift for her mother. No matter how impractical it was or how much damage it took, the bear came with them. Jak was tempted to light it on fire, but she didn't want the FBI to know she'd been tampering with the box beyond what appeared to be a routine inventory.

Pushing past the bear, she sifted through boxes and furniture until she came to the old wooden crate she'd been looking for. Her mother had left the box alone for ages and it had gathered dust. The lid was off, since the feds had gone through and photographed all the contents, but everything was just as dusty as it had been the last time Jak looked.

She dug through some of the truly ancient items her family had owned. There was a dagger that had belonged to Ivan the Terrible. A ring her father had stolen from Pope Boniface I. A sketch done by Leonardo di Vinci. This was the box of the few remaining things her father kept from before she'd been born. Her mother always claimed that there weren't many because he'd been so enamored with Jak upon her birth that he could only look to the future and forgot the past. Jak's theory was that he had a hidden stash of items somewhere that he had never told his family about, but that didn't matter.

At the very bottom of the crate she found what she was actually looking for.

"Hello, hello." She shone a flashlight on the small, wooden box she had unearthed.

It was crafted in Egypt, long, long ago. Jak always assumed that her father had acquired it from an antiques dealer or a friend. Her memory of it was fuzzy and for a time, she convinced herself that he had gotten ahold of it in the Victorian or Edwardian era, when Egyptology was all the rage. But if she really gave it some thought, the little box had been with them as long as she could remember.

Until she realized that her father was a phoenix, she had always thought that the pink haired man on the front of the box, with his flaming wings spread wide, was a depiction of some god. Now, however, she knew the truth: it was an image of her father. He had been alive far longer than she had ever thought. He was not Egyptian himself, but he had, evidently, spent some time in Egypt a long time ago.

Jak wanted to know just how long and she wanted to see what else she could learn about the box. So, she tucked it in the bag she'd brought with her, locked up the shipping container, and headed on her way.

.

.

"Hey, hi, are you Seraphina? Sorry! Ms. Falkner? Ms. uh… Seraphina Falkner?"

Jak looked away from the museum case she'd been admiring. It held a display about historic fashion of the French court and she recognized a pair of her father's shoes sitting on a velvet cushion. She'd rarely been allowed in France during that time, otherwise she wondered if they might have had any of her possessions too.

Turning from the shoes, she looked at the man who spoke to her. He smiled nervously and offered a hand to shake, but then put the hand in his pocket after the long silence. When she looked him in his soft brown eyes, his whole face turned a ruddy color and he stuttered out something that she couldn't quite understand.

He was not, according to his online message, an actual Egyptologist or even an archeologist. But, when Jak had posted a picture of her father's box on an online forum that dealt with ancient Egyptian artifacts that were not in museums - a site dedicated toward getting the antiquities to where they rightfully belonged - he had been the first to reply with interest. Jak didn't care that he was not accredited in the field, but she did care that he was discrete. She had told him that there were relatives of hers who wanted to sell the box, but she wanted to learn more about it. A good as cover as any for stolen FBI evidence. It made him promise to keep things quiet anyway.

"Hello," she smiled at the awkward man, "Yes, I'm Seraphina Falkner."

"I have to say, I'm quite flummoxed that you would travel all the way over the pond just to talk about the piece!" the man shook his head. "Must be very important to you, eh?"

"I thought it would be easier for you to look at it in person than over a picture or video. And I like to travel. I recently quit my job and I'm enjoying my new found freedom."

"Good for you! That's great. I mean, that is really lovely. And I'm happy to meet you, of course," he beamed and then slapped his forehead, "And here I am standing around like a complete clot! Sorry. I'm Stephen. Stephen Grant."

"I know," Jak giggled, holding up the bag with the box in it, "It was how you signed your emails, remember?"

"Right! Right!"

"Now, would you care to take a look at this thing?"

"Oi! Stevie, what are you up to over there?" A blonde woman called to them.

"Hi Donna," Stephen waved to the woman, "I was just actually going to take my break. Alright if I take my new friend to the break room with me?"

"Not really a romantic location for a date, now is it? No," Donna smacked her chewing gum, "Get out of here."

"Right," Stephen watched her go and then turned back to Jak. He made an apologetic face. "Ever examined ancient Egyptian artifacts in a corner cafe before?"

"Can't say I have," she smiled at him, "But I don't mind."

"Brill," he beamed, "Let's go have a looksee! I'm dying to get a peep at the hieroglyphs on this thing! And that image on the front? Never seen anything like it! He's got the wings of Isis, but he's clearly a man. And he's got that funny hair! Oh, sorry, bit like your hair, innit?"

"You know, that's what I was thinking too."

"Where did you even come by this?"

"Oh, it's been in the family."

Stephen rambled on as they made their way to a cafe and continued rambling and exclaiming in excitement as he looked over the box. Jak was glad to find that something of her father's could actually bring joy instead of hurt. At least, until Stephen flipped the box over and declared that it had a false bottom.

"Well, let's just see if we can jimmy it open," he poked and prodded at the box until he finally found a latch and pressed it. The bottom sprang open and revealed a crumbling, tiny scroll of papyrus, a Georgian era locket, a 1920s book of matches, and a family photo from the 1940s.

"This must be your… gran?" Stephen looked at the photo and then up at her. "Striking resemblance."

"Yes. Interesting," Jak muttered, taking the picture. She sat, smiling primly, between her parents. Her father looked sternly at the camera, cigar in hand, and her mother pressed possessive hands on Jak's shoulders. She didn't even remember having the portrait taken.

"These bits and bobs are older though," Stephen glanced at the matchbook, but didn't linger before using his fingernail to pry open the locket. There was a lock of pink hair inside. "Well. That's not what I was expecting from something this old. Did you add this? Did you add all of these and you're having a go at me?"

"No," she closed the locket, "Someone in my family must have put these in there. I didn't even know about the false bottom."

"Huh. And this papyrus… this is proper ancient. Like the box. I ought to put on gloves or something." But he merely wiped his hands on a napkin and unrolled the little scroll. "It's got glyphs."

"Can you read them?"

"Well…" he shrugged, "I probably could with enough time, but maybe you ought to consult a real-"

"How much time do you need?"

"Hmm…" he pondered the papyrus and then shook his head and exhaled, "A week? Two?"

"Keep it until Saturday. I'll be in town. And I'll take these," she scooped up the locket, matches, and photo, "with me. I'm trusting you, Stephen."

"Course," he nodded, "I will take good care of it. Maybe we'll uncover an ancient riddle to finding treasure, eh? 'Cept they don't usually do that type of thing, the ancient Egyptians, unless it's in the movies."

"Right. Well, here's the number of the hotel I'm staying at. Let me know if you think of anything," she stood and started to leave, but he stopped her and pointed to the art in the false bottom of the box. It was similar to the picture on the outside of the box that she assumed depicted her father, but this one was of a woman with magenta hair and fiery wings. The woman looked a bit like her, but that didn't concern her. She was more worried when she noticed the woman was reaching up and touching fingertips with a dark haired man surrounded by a beam of light. A dark haired man with green eyes and gold devil's horns.

A day after Loki left earth:

"With Thor off, serving his duty to the realms, we must find something for you to do," Odin told Loki as they sat uncomfortably in Odin's study. Loki was still handcuffed, which he found rather insulting, but at least the muzzle was gone.

"Am I not to rot away in a cell then?" Loki asked, scratching at the metal of the manacles with his fingernail and making an irritating sound.

"Until there is peace, I will not have either of my sons be lazy."

Thor had left almost as soon as they arrived back in Asgard. He'd stayed for one feast, spoken to his friends, spoken to Odin, and then flown off in search of Infinity Stones or trouble. Whichever he found first. Loki hated how worried he felt that his brother would find both at the same time.

"Then shall I work until my death?"

"You are the one who wanted a throne, did you not?" Odin challenged, "A king's job is not complete until he dies."

"And what job would you have me do, since you so adamantly refuse me a throne?"

"You have a way with trickery, Loki, you always have. It is my fault for not finding a constructive purpose for your talents," Odin stood and poured a goblet full of mead for both of them. He unlocked the manacles and then passed the goblet to Loki.

"And what purpose will you manufacture for me, Allfather?" Loki asked, taking a sip of the mead and then carefully checking his pockets. He had a way of hiding things on his person so that even a thorough frisking would not reveal his secrets and he was pleased to find many of his pockets left untouched.

Odin set his cup down and crossed his arms.

"You have let Jotuns into Asgard. You have slipped out of Asgard. All unseen, even to Heimdall. It seems to me that we have security breaches. You will work with the royal guard and engineers to fix these breaches. I give you free reign to attempt an escape from Asgard. You are my son, so I expect you to succeed. But I ask you to come back when you have and detail your escape so that we may prevent anyone else from mirroring your actions. If you do this, I will fully reinstate you as a prince of the Realm Eternal. Second in line for the throne."

It was a tempting offer. Loki would be foolish to turn it down. After all, there was nothing left for him on Midgard. Thor was gone, Jak had her own plans. He loved Asgard and he wanted it to prosper.