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Mobius ceased his impatient pacing when his tempad buzzed with an incoming communication.
“Hi, B,” he answered.
“Mobius, what’s your status? Are you in yet?”
“We’re nearly ready to go. Loki’s… uh, doing the final touches.”
“Still?” she sighed, “Okay. Well let me know once you arrive, if you’re able to.”
“I’ll message you if I can’t call,” Mobius assured her, “In the meantime, standby.”
He pocketed the device and frowned at the closed door behind which Loki was preparing for the event they were about to infiltrate.
Undercover work had never previously been the norm at the TVA, but now that the timelines had been freed, it was becoming much more prevalent. They were no longer erasing their interferences with reset charges, so a more clandestine approach was frequently required.
Such was the case here. Mobius and Loki had been specifically selected for a mission to search for and apprehend a TVA agent gone rogue. The agent in question originally hailed from a completely different department from the wildly vast establishment, so they did not know Mobius or Loki by sight or name. And as the two of them had quickly gained a reputation for being one of the most competent, effective partnerships in the field, they were an obvious choice for dealing with a sensitive internal matter.
The added bonus was Loki’s ability to shape-shift. This assignment required them to pose as a high-society couple at the 40th jubilee of the sovereign of a world known as Thallio VI. It was an incredibly formal occasion, with a very high-profile list of invitees. Thanks to the TVA’s connections (and oft-questionable methods), Mobius and Loki had been provided with an intercepted invitation that was originally intended for a minor Lord and Lady from a neighbouring planet in the system, who were known only for no one ever having met them. They were notoriously reclusive, always politely refusing to attend any event, off-world or otherwise. So aside from being the subject of occasional speculation within the upper classes of the Thallio system, no one thought much on them at all. There was a risk that someone might question their sudden appearance out of nowhere, but Loki insisted that it wouldn’t be a problem to construct a sufficiently vague yet credible reason on the fly.
Mobius sighed and pulled at the excessively tight cuffs on the shirt that Wardrobe had issued him for this mission. The fashions weren’t too crazy where they were headed, but the suit he was wearing was certainly a lot less comfortable than what he was used to.
He and Loki were currently in a TVA safehouse on Earth, which they were making use of for only a very short time; just long enough to allow Loki first to shape-shift, then to sufficiently doll herself up for a royal occasion.
Which was still pretty long, for the person standing around waiting.
“Loki, are you ready yet? Time’s a ticking…” Mobius reminded her unnecessarily, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice.
“You can’t rush perfection!” Loki called from behind the dressing room door, voice now sweeter and higher, but with the same gentle quality, “Anyway, I’m just finishing up.”
Mobius looked skyward in exasperation.
“We’re on a mission, Loki, there’s no need for perfection- god you look amazing!” he blurted unthinkingly, as Loki pushed the door open and stepped through. Mobius bit his lips together, then confessed, “I didn’t mean to say that out loud, I’m sorry.”
Loki had the audacity to giggle prettily as she glided towards him on black stiletto heels. Her hair was swept into an elegant up-do, a few artfully arranged curled tendrils hanging loose. Perfectly sculpted hips swayed seductively in the form-fitting emerald green gown as she drew close.
She has to be doing that on purpose, Mobius thought, trying not to let his eyes wander of their own accord.
“Loki,” he whined in a small voice, not even sure what he was complaining about.
“What?” She said, blinking at him innocently with smoky, kohl-lined eyes, “I’m merely getting into character. You should do the same.”
She stepped nearer, and Mobius felt mildly disconcerted at being able to see over the top of her head, just barely. Loki had shrunk in stature with the shift, which normally wouldn’t be her preference. However, in the interests of not wanting to draw too much attention to herself or Mobius, it was decided that it was prudent for her not to be towering over half of the guests while wearing those shoes.
Gently, and likely unnecessarily given the coy expression she was wearing, Loki reached up to adjust his shirt collar and tie, then ran a hand down the front of his jacket to smooth the lapels. She moved back to appraise him. Looking up at his face, she bit back a smile.
“Stop gaping, Mobius,” she admonished, “You’ll catch flies.”
Mobius snapped his mouth shut and glared at her. She winked cheekily then gestured at the tempad in his hand.
“Shall we go, then?”
* * * * * * *
“We’re here, B,” Mobius muttered into the device from behind a giant ornate planter filled with startlingly purple foliage.
“Thanks Mobius, let us know of any developments if and when you can.”
“Will do.”
He stepped out from the dubious cover after slipping the tempad into an inner jacket pocket.
Loki was apparently doing her utmost to charm the sovereign and his wife, who were greeting their guests at the door as they were introduced by a royal official.
“… honoured that your first foray into society events would be our humble little party,” the queen was saying as he returned.
“Oh, Your Highness,” Loki simpered with a honeyed tone, “No need to be so modest. I can already tell that this is quite an impressive celebration, and we in turn are honoured to be a part of it.”
She glanced at Mobius as he took his place next to her.
“I apologise for stepping away,” he said formally, “Unfortunately some messages can’t wait. It’s just… well, children, you know how they are.”
“Ah yes, we do indeed,” the king agreed, glancing meaningfully at his teenaged daughter. The young woman was standing alone nearby, looking incredibly bored and more than a little sullen.
“Now, Kenryck,” the queen said, “Let’s keep things harmonious tonight, shall we?”
“Of course, dear,” he agreed obligingly.
“Well, it’s absolutely lovely to finally meet you both,” Loki said, then took Mobius’ hand, “Come, darling, we have many more people to introduce ourselves to.”
Mobius felt an odd swooping sensation at the natural way Loki slid her soft hand into his, like she did it every day.
It’s called acting, you moron, he firmly reminded himself as they entered the ballroom. Loki was kind of an expert at it, and Mobius knew he would do well to at least attempt to play his part sufficiently. He squared his shoulders, mouth set determinedly. The last thing he wanted to do was mess up the mission, all because a bit of play-pretend had suddenly turned him into an awkward adolescent.
The grand ballroom was enormous, and decorated a little too ostentatiously to be completely tasteful. Lots of pink and grey stone reminiscent of marble formed the polished flooring and wide columns, which were set off by swirling moulded capitals in gold leaf. There were ornate arrangements of native flowers upon every surface, their scent a little cloying but not wholly unpleasant.
Despite the guest list being apparently exclusive, at least a couple of hundred people were already present, all dressed similarly to Mobius and Loki in suits and gowns of the local fashion. Most were standing around drinking and gossiping, helping themselves to canapés from gleaming silver trays held by royal waitstaff with vacuous expressions. Some couples were gracing the dance floor… the term used loosely, as no one was really dancing, just stepping or swaying together as they chatted. Music played by a chamber orchestra floated down from a mezzanine gallery above them.
Loki led Mobius over to a drinks table where they were serving tall, conical flutes filled with some kind of beverage that appeared similar to champagne on Earth, except very faintly lilac in colour. She grabbed two of them, then turned to him, taking a small sip from one as she passed him the other.
“So I assume you haven’t spotted ZE-31 as yet?” she asked softy, touching his arm and leaning in a little; an effort to appear as inconspicuously couple-y as possible.
Mobius cleared his throat.
“No, I haven’t, but like we were told several times during the briefing, she is always very well-disguised whenever she makes an appearance. Honestly, she could be anyone in a crowd: any gender or even another species, although that’s less likely tonight,” he noted, realising that ninety percent of the guests were human, or close enough.
“Well the king’s Grand Advisor, a man called Norrith, was apparently in charge of arranging the final guest list. I managed to get the queen to divulge that just now,” Loki said nonchalantly.
“In the less-than-a-minute that I was off speaking to B? How?”
Loki chuckled, pressing up close to him.
“My lord husband, you know that I possess persuasive influence of such a degree to which mere mortals could never even hope to aspire,” she said playfully.
Trying his hardest to ignore her flirtatious manner, Mobius tilted his head in consideration, eyes narrowing.
“You just asked her, didn’t you?”
“I did,” she confirmed, taking another sip of the sparkling wine.
Mobius snorted in amusement, glancing around the room as he took a drink too. The flavour was pleasantly dry, but with an unusual butterscotch overtone that produced a delectable smoothness.
Eyes roaming around every visible inch of the decadent hall, Mobius began attempting to single out anyone who may conceivably match the height or physical description of the runaway TVA agent they were attempting to catch, Inquisitor ZE-31. It was imperative they find her as soon as possible.
For, due to their latest intel, the TVA feared that tonight she would attempt to assassinate the king.
* * * * * * *
The next half hour or so was spent slowly circling the room, the pair of them introducing themselves to some curious partygoers who ranged from fascinated to unwelcoming in their regard for the previously unknown noble couple. Eventually, though, Loki and Mobius had decided it would be more effective to split up. Mobius was to continue wandering the room whilst surreptitiously searching for the agent, and also keeping an eye on King Kenryck. Not that he could do a great deal in the event of a sudden attack, but even an infinitesimal warning could mean the difference between life or death.
As much as Mobius was focussed upon his task, he couldn’t help but let his eyes slip back to Loki continuously, and he wasn’t even sure why. She was in her element, delighting and captivating those she spoke to as she made her way around the room, getting closer to finding her target: this Norrith she mentioned. They needed to speak with him, as he was the reason that anyone would be able to gain access to an exclusive party with such stringent security.
Thallio was a relatively peaceful star system, but a prime reason for this was because each world took the protection of their nobility and ruling families extremely seriously, the result of a bitter war that spanned centuries over a millennia ago. It should not be possible for anyone to simply sneak in tonight of their own accord; the electronic invitations were checked so thoroughly that one would have better luck gaining access to a Midgardian intelligence agency. Well, almost. And not only was the palace entrance heavily secured, armed guards were pacing the room, randomly requesting to scan the ID bracelets provided to guests upon passing security.
Loki was trying her best to discover which of the official-looking gentleman scattered around the room was Norrith, and once she’d established this, needed to approach him with ease and spontaneity, keeping up the guise of a harmless partygoer who was new to both these people and this social situation. It looked like she was doing beautifully, as far as Mobius could tell… as if he expected anything different, of course. Loki really was a natural at this kind of work; the TVA was lucky to have her, even if she wasn’t an official employee.
Forcing his attention back to the crowd, Mobius had no idea if ZE-31 was even in attendance as yet; he still couldn’t see anyone that remotely matched her description. The rogue agent had abandoned the TVA some months ago with a range of stolen equipment, doing a runner during a high-stakes mission and leaving her team high and dry. The one thing she hadn’t taken was a tempad, as they were too easily traceable. The current theory was that she’d fallen in with some villainous individual or faction on this timeline, likely someone exceedingly high profile and of significant ill-repute, but they were severely lacking concrete evidence of this. However, it definitely seemed the ex-agent was using the skills she’d gained at the TVA for abhorrent business, such as assassination, grand theft that often ended in body counts, and nefarious dealings with incredibly questionable parties, such as excessively wealthy drug lords. The TVA had a responsibility both to apprehend her, and to discover who it was she was working for so as to at least keep tabs on them. Especially if they had an interest in recruiting TVA agents.
Mobius glanced back at Loki for what felt like the five-hundredth time… damn her for being so distracting tonight. This time, however, she too was seeking him out, looking meaningfully at him with slightly widened eyes, then back at the man she was talking to, a tiny tilt of her head the only further signal. Ah, this was Norrith. Maybe she was finally getting somewhere. He kept an eye on the pair of them after checking on the king once more, and found himself promptly blindsided by some unnamable feeling as Norrith smugly took Loki’s arm and led her onto the dance floor. Loki was smiling at the Grand Advisor captivatingly, but shot Mobius a quick look; I’m working, it’s okay. He nodded to her very slightly in acknowledgement, and as they began swaying, he determinedly turned away and went back to scanning the thickening crowd.
Placing his empty glass on a side table several minutes later, Mobius returned to the edge of the dance floor, only to find Loki and Norrith had vanished. He felt a thrill of fear for a moment, but told himself that was ridiculous; nothing was going to happen to her. Still, this was not part of the plan, and he didn’t like not knowing where she was. As he cast his gaze around, he managed to catch a very fleeting glimpse of her being pulled through a smallish door on the opposite side of the room, half hidden by a clump of guests and a giant pillar. He started over towards it, agitated at their abrupt disappearance.
* * * * * * *
Bursting into what appeared to be a servants’ corridor, Mobius found it completely empty. However, he just barely made out the muted thunk of a door closing softly in the distance. Following the sound at a jog, he rounded a corner and was met by three closed doors, behind one of which he briefly heard the muffled voice of a man… the noise that he was making glaringly suggestive. Mobius' mouth was grim as he grabbed the doorknob and threw the door open.
Inside was a tiny and basic dining area, presumably used by palace staff. It was empty apart from Norrith and Loki, who was pressed up firmly against a wall with the man leaning heavily into her, as he slid his hand up under her dress, shamelessly groping her upper thigh… and possibly beyond. Mobius could barely even see straight as fury rose within.
“Hey!!” Mobius yelled, grabbing the guy’s arm and yanking him backwards, “What the hell d’you think you’re doing?!” He gave him a sharp push that sent him stumbling, then grabbed his shirtfront and got right up in his face, “Get your hands off of- “
“His wife,” Loki broke in quickly, correctly deducing that Mobius was seconds away from blurting something that could blow their cover.
“W- wife?” the man stuttered, eyes darting back and forth between them, “Who… who are you?”
“The Lady Zeyane, of Thallio VIII,” Loki announced loftily, putting a calming hand on Mobius’ arm. He slowly released the man, who hastily stepped out of arms’ reach.
“And this is Lord Kalthos,” Loki finished.
The man’s eyes widened and he paled, his hands fidgeting uncertainly.
“I- I’m so… I- do apologise, my lady, my lord,” he grovelled, “I had no idea! And… and I admit I severely misinterpreted the, uh, the intentions behind your seeking me out.”
“Too right you did,” Mobius growled dangerously, his temper still soaring.
“Indeed,” Loki agreed, folding her arms calmly, “But now that I have you here…”
Her irises flashed green for an instant, and the man suddenly snapped rigidly upright, hands by his sides firmly as though strapped there. His eyes were blown wide with panic, clearly horrified at being restrained at all, let alone by unseen, magical forces.
“You were in charge of overseeing the guest list for this evening, am I correct?”
Norrith nodded, too frightened to speak.
“There is someone coming tonight who is no friend or neighbour of this family. Who is, in fact, unknown to all here, I would wager.”
Norrith just stared, a little flicker of his eyes the only implication that he may have known what Loki was referring to.
“Good, I’m glad we’ve established that much,” Loki continued, “But what my husband and I would really like to know, is how this person got their name - which is most definitely false, by the way - onto said guest list.”
She moved closer to Norrith, then stood in front of him, hands on her hips in a no-nonsense pose.
“Who put you up to it?”
The man didn’t answer.
“Fine, how much did they pay you to do it?”
Still no response.
“Have you seen this interloper tonight, do you know what they look like?” Mobius demanded.
Panicked breathing was his only answer.
“Okay, obviously we’re not making ourselves clear enough,” Loki sighed, glancing at Mobius with an almost long-suffering expression. Mobius’ lips quirked in response to her little performance. She turned back to her captive.
“How would you feel if I were to tell you that you were an accessory to murder?” she prodded.
Norrith visibly paled, looking ill.
“It’s all right,” Loki placated in a mockery of comfort, “It hasn’t actually happened… yet.”
Her gaze then sharpened.
“But when it does,” she said in a sweet but deadly voice, “you will be… considerably high on the list of suspects.”
“Unless you tell us what we need to know,” Mobius finished, a hint of venom in his tone indicative of the latent anger still simmering.
“I- I- There’s not much I can tell you,” Norrith blurted, “Honestly. It was weakness on my part, I will admit it. They offered me… well, it was a lot. It would set me up forever, me and my family… erm, if I- if I had a family…“ he trailed off.
“Who is ‘they’?” Loki questioned coolly. Norrith looked at her, perspiration beading on his forehead, but again wouldn’t answer.
Loki’s eyes flashed green once more, and the invisible bonds around Norrith tightened, squeezing him to the point that breathing became patently uncomfortable.
“I don’t know, I don’t know!” he cried, “Really, I don’t. All I can say is they seem to be someone who is not used to being refused, and would also not take kindly to said refusal.”
Loki loosened the bonds, and he grunted in relief, but she didn’t yet release them. As she leaned in to stare into his eyes, Norrith quivered under her steely scrutiny. She then looked to Mobius, who shrugged. The scumbag genuinely seemed to be to be telling the truth, and Loki silently concurred. She once more glared at the squirming royal official at length, purely to exacerbate his discomfort.
“Very well, we believe you,” she said eventually.
He sagged a little in response.
“If you truly have nothing more to offer us, I will now release you,” she told him.
“Thank you,” he breathed in a choked whisper.
“And if you breathe a word of this encounter to anyone, anyone at all, then you will be sure to discover what happens when the king and queen hear about… your little indiscretion just now.”
She drew closer.
“Am I understood?” she all but purred.
The man swallowed and nodded vehemently. With a flick of her wrist he vanished, and Loki gave a small nod of satisfaction. She then turned to look at Mobius, who was staring at the vacant spot where the man had been standing.
"Where’d you send him?” he grumbled.
“To the wine cellar. I may have sort-of… knocked him out a little, too. Let’s see how he talks his way out of that.”
She huffed a small laugh, then sauntered over to Mobius, tilting her head as she regarded him with amused curiosity.
“You do know I could’ve overpowered him in half a second if I were truly threatened, yes?” Loki smirked
Mobius looked away, humiliated.
“Of course I do.”
“It was transparently tactical, on my part, allowing him to do that.”
“I’m aware.”
“Then why all the dramatics?” she asked.
“I- I don’t know, it was instinctive. Just seeing… that… it- it made me, y’know, feel the need to… “ he mimed a punching movement, still unable to make eye contact.
Loki laughed.
“Oh… yes of course, you’re my hero,” she grinned up at him.
“There’s no need to mock me.”
“I’m not, I’m not, it- it was very sweet,” she insisted, doing an extremely poor job of smothering her mirth.
“Oh, shut up Loki,” Mobius griped, face flaming.
With a soft snort of amusement, she hooked her arm around his elbow and led him back towards the ballroom.
But as they walked, he couldn’t help but dwell upon his actions. Mobius was not typically hotheaded. Although he and Loki bickered a lot, and he admittedly had the occasional strained interaction with a colleague, he was generally a non-confrontational kind of guy. Lashing out as he’d just done was definitely not in his MO, no matter what he’d walked in on. Plus, as she’d just pointed out, he logically knew that Loki was one hundred percent capable of taking care of herself in such situations.
When Mobius saw that guy with his hands on her like that, however, something incandescent and powerful had flared inside. He couldn’t even put a finger on what it was, initially. It was partly protectiveness, of course, albeit misguided. Naturally it was partly outrage too, at the sheer presumptuousness of that disgusting sleazy jerk. But that wasn’t all. It was also partly… partly… oh.
Partly jealousy.
Mobius’ step faltered for a split second, just noticeable enough for Loki to glance at him. He continued to look straight ahead, doing his very best to outwardly appear calm and unfazed.
But inside… inside everything had suddenly and emphatically shifted.
* * * * * * *
“Let’s dance,” Loki said quietly upon their return, “It’ll give us more of an all-encompassing view of the room, and perhaps we will be privy to conversations we wouldn’t otherwise hear.”
“Dance?” Mobius said, stopping dead.
“Yes?” Loki replied, puzzled by his reaction.
“I- I don’t know Loki-“
“Oh, you needn't worry about not being able to dance, my love,” she cooed, now within earshot of other people, “It seems that’s a common theme here.”
A few people nearby glared at her underhanded insult as she led Mobius out onto the dance floor. Any protest of his had been immediately halted at the easily-uttered term of endearment.
Gods, Loki.
She slipped her hands around his waist and drew him near, then trailed them up to loop over his shoulders. He almost froze and tensed up, but mercifully logic chose that moment to break into his thoughts and remind him that they were a married couple tonight, and he needed to demonstrate the same relaxed familiarity as Loki. Mobius placed his hands on her hips, then pulled her closer, his fingers brushing the velvety softness of the bare skin on her lower back.
As they began to move understatedly to the melodious accompaniment, Loki peered over Mobius’ shoulder, quite obviously still concentrating on their mission, and not going to pieces inside as he was.
What was wrong with him? This was getting ridiculous.
After a couple of minutes, Loki stiffened in sudden attention, startling Mobius slightly. Before he could even ask what was up, she grabbed the nape of his neck, pulling him close in an all-too-real approximation of an intimate embrace. Her soft cheek pressed up against his, and he barely suppressed a shiver as she whispered into his ear.
“I just noticed someone,” Loki breathed, “They came out of the corridor we were in before.”
She slowly withdrew, gently kissing his cheek for good measure. Mobius bit his lips together, forcing his mind to stay focussed. That was not necessary, damn it. Why did she have to be such a thorough performer?
He found his voice, slightly rough though it was.
“Think it could be her?” he muttered, boldly resting his forehead on Loki’s.
She smiled softly as though he’d just said something incredibly romantic.
“Height and build check out, she looks a little young though,” Loki murmured, “Nothing that couldn’t be achieved with clever make-up, I suppose.”
She steered them around in a slow circle, so that he could see what she was looking at.
“Red dress, you see her?”
“I do,” Mobius muttered, “You’re right though, very young.”
At that moment, the orchestra finished playing, and after the requisite smattering of applause, an official took to a small stage in a far corner of the room, announcing that His Majesty would be making his speech momentarily.
Loki and Mobius followed the guests over to that side of the room, keeping a careful watch on the young woman in the red dress. The king appeared with his wife and daughter, and began the usual rambling speech one would expect at a stuffy royal occasion. Halfway through, after thanking his wife, he then brought forward the teenaged girl.
“And tonight, I would also like to formally introduce my daughter, the Princess Eliara,” he announced proudly. The guests clapped, a couple of the bolder or more inebriated giving up small cheers. Eliara blushed and waved, smiling in a way that suggested it was a part of her royal education.
“At seventeen, Eliara is now ‘out’ in society, so from now on you will be seeing a lot more of her.”
More polite applause. Eliara glanced pleadingly at her father, who gave a little nod of permission. As he carried on with his dull speech, she sidled off the stage, her face dropping into a scowl of displeasure such as only a teenager could replicate.
Mobius continued watching her, even though he knew his attention should be on any threats to King Kenryck. The girl faded into the crowd, but he tracked her as she surreptitiously left the ballroom via another semi-obscured doorway.
Mere seconds later, the young woman in the red dress followed her.
“Loki,” Mobius whispered almost inaudibly.
“I saw,” Loki replied, “I’m on it.”
She slipped behind a nearby column, out of sight thanks to the potted tree adjacent. Mobius saw the barest hint of a green flash, then another through the gap around the door. Loki had chosen to magic her way out so as not to arouse suspicion.
Uneasy over her absence, although that was par for the course when it came to his feelings about Loki in general, he focussed back on the ballroom guests. Less than a minute later, he saw another woman walk briskly to the side of the room, apparently taking a call on a communications device. Mobius was excellent at reading body language, however, and could tell that it was an act even at a distance. She slipped out the very same door as the others.
Well that was a red flag.
He was torn over what he should do for only a second or two, then realised that Loki was potentially dealing with two threats, and was only aware of one of them.
So Mobius too made his way out of the room, vaguely concerned that far too much movement around one insignificant exit would be drawing the guards’ attention. But what choice did he have?
* * * * * * *
This door opened to a more decorative corridor than the other, and it ended in a double entry onto a large patio, which faced out toward the high-walled palace gardens.
The night was lit by a full moon, casting a glow upon anything caught in its light, shadows in stark relief. Mobius could make out a vague silhouette of the woman he was following as she jogged over towards what appeared to be an ornamental hedge maze. He chased after her, stealthily.
Somewhere from the middle of the maze, there was the sound of soft laughter, which seemed incongruous with the situation at hand.
Mobius listened carefully, attempting to discern the sound of footsteps. He couldn’t hear much, if anything, given the ground underfoot was soft, manicured grass.
Damn.
No choice but to keep moving, he kept his left shoulder to the wall of the maze, knowing that there was no point in trying to find his way through in the dark. This was as effective a way as any to break through, if a hell of a lot more time-consuming than was ideal.
Jogging along, he came to a point where a passage running parallel to his intersected, and as he reached that juncture the woman he’d been following earlier burst out, bowling into him with a violent shove which left him sprawled on his rear. She made to carry on into the maze, but he managed to hook an ankle around her foot and trip her up, and she fell face-first onto the ground. Mobius lunged at her, but she was quick, getting to her knees and throwing an expert punch. Pain exploded in his jaw, and he could taste blood. She took off before he had a hope of recovering. As she ran, he saw her unholster a concealed weapon, some sort of laser gun. How the hell had she gotten that past security? Perhaps someone inside had provided it...
She rounded a corner in the distance as he was still getting to his feet, and he saw a blast of green energy a moment later.
Good, Loki got her.
Or perhaps not. The telltale sounds of hand-to-hand combat could be heard; soft grunts and the wince-inducing slaps of fists and feet connecting with flesh carrying in the night air as he approached. He heard the laser weapon fire once, and his heart stopped, fearing for Loki’s life. But an instant later the physical grappling carried on, and he relaxed minutely even as he continued running.
He finally reached the corner and turned to find the struggling pair, Loki immediately spotting him and her eyes widening in relief. She conjured her daggers with practiced fluidity, making to strike the woman, but halting abruptly with both blades crossed at her throat.
“Mobius! Tempad!” Loki cried, knowing her target would only be shocked into stillness for a moment or two at best.
Mobius drew out the device, and expertly flicked open a time door behind the rogue agent. Loki pushed her through, and it dissipated.
“B-15?” Mobius was already communicating their success, “You’ll find our little runaway safely tucked away in the cell you allocated.”
“Great news, Mobius. Did you get her in time before… anything happened?”
“Yeah, but as it turns out, it was actually the Princess- oh you know what, it can wait for the debrief.”
“I look forward to it. I think? Anyway, get yourselves back here as soon as you can, we'll need you for questioning.”
“No problem,” he replied, watching Loki approach as he ended the call. She was barefoot, her fitted dress slightly skewed. Her hair was coming loose, untidy curls falling from the once-perfect style. Panting from the exertion and face flushed; Mobius felt weak over how incredible she looked.
Then she smiled up at him, pleased from a job well done, and he was sure his feet left the ground.
Get a grip, it’s just Loki!
Yeah. That’s right. ‘Just' Loki. ‘Just' Loki, who had held his hand as naturally as breathing, who’d whispered in his ear then kissed him, called him "darling" and "my love", pulled him close on the dance floor… Mobius almost shivered at the recollection.
Besides, it was never, ever ‘just’ Loki. It never had been.
Mobius had been besotted since day one, basically, but it wasn't until this ridiculously unlikely mission had finally torn away the flimsy veil of denial, and showed him with glaring clarity that what he'd felt had always been more than mere friendship.
Loki must have read something in his eyes or expression, because she looked a little perplexed for a moment. Then she noticed the fresh bruise on his jawline.
“Oh, Mobius, she got you. Are you alright?”
Mobius blinked, recovering his senses.
“Uh, yeah I’m fine. It’s nothing, just needs a little ice,” he dismissed, then gestured at where the time door had been, “How come you didn’t do the… y’know, invisible restraints thing on her?”
Loki sighed in mild irritation.
“She was wearing one of those experimental magic-blockers from R&A, it must have been in the mini-arsenal that she pinched from the TVA. That's how I knew she was our rogue.”
He nodded, then froze with eyes widened suddenly as he remembered…
“Loki, the Princess! The girl in red!” he panicked.
Loki lifted her hands to calm him.
“It’s fine Mobius, absolutely nothing to worry about there.”
He frowned.
“What do you mean?”
Loki’s lips quirked in a secretive smile.
“Follow me,” she said quietly, as she set off further into the maze.
After a couple of minutes, they came upon a gap in the hedge that opened onto a small clearing. Loki stopped and turned back to him, gesturing around the corner with her head. He peeked around… and found Princess Eliara and the young lady in the red dress pressed together on a stone garden seat, kissing passionately. Mobius couldn’t help but grin, and backed away, leaving them to it.
“Good for them,” he whispered as they moved away out of earshot.
As they walked, he gestured at Loki’s feet, her fair skin luminous against the dark ground in the moonlight.
“Where are your shoes? Reginald in Wardrobe will be pissed if you’ve lost them, you know how he gets.”
Loki groaned softly and the stilettos magicked back onto her feet.
“I hate these things,” she lamented, “They may look absolutely smashing, but give me well-worn leather boots any day.”
Mobius repressed the urge to tell her that she looked ‘absolutely smashing’ no matter what she was wearing, instead opening a time door that they both stepped through without missing a beat.
* * * * * * *
Standing in the bedroom of the safehouse, Mobius was staring at an oblivious Loki as he removed pin after pin from his hair whilst yapping on about how the tiresome monotony of formal royal occasions was apparently prevalent across the multiverse. Mobius was barely listening, finding himself almost hypnotised watching Loki’s lips move, still coloured a deep red.
“… and that was certainly the case on Asgard, too. As you’d well know, I’m sure.” Loki finished, waving a hand dismissively. When no response came after several seconds, he hesitated and turned to look at Mobius.
“Mobius?”
"Huh?”
“You okay?”
Mobius shook himself a little as he yanked himself out of his own head.
“Yeah. Yeah, sorry.”
“You don’t look right,” Loki observed with some concern, “Are you unwell?”
Mobius scoffed a little too forcefully to be believable.
“Not at all, no I’m fine. Absolutely terrific.”
Loki put a gentle hand up to his cheek, presumably to check his temperature, and it took everything in Mobius’ being not to melt into a puddle of goo right then and there. He barely refrained from leaning into the touch.
“You feel warm,” Loki told him, “And your face is flushed. I think you should go and visit the infirmary when we get back, Mobius.”
“Ah, yeah… yeah, maybe…” Mobius couldn’t even think straight, simply agreeing with whatever Loki was saying.
Please keep touching me.
Loki frowned and withdrew, which was disappointing to say the least, and finished up with his hair, shaking it out to restore his usual tousled curls that Mobius finally allowed himself to acknowledge were excessively beautiful, and were begging to have fingers combed through them. He turned away, unable to take it anymore. Despite there certainly being a sense of comfort and normalcy with Loki returning to his usual appearance, the intense new feelings stirred on this mission by all the sultry behaviour, close proximity, the realisation of his irrational jealousy… it was all incredibly troubling. Especially since the whole thing was just an act, at least on Loki’s part. Taking a deep breath, Mobius tried very hard to compose himself, his pounding heart betraying him.
He was roused from his reverie by the sound of a time door opening.
“You coming?”
“What??” Mobius spun around. Loki was standing with the evening gown, shoes and a make-up case slung casually over his shoulder, dabbing at his eyes and lips with a wet wipe. His brow furrowed again at Mobius’ highly strung reaction.
“Oh, I mean, uh… yeah," he amended.
Very smooth, you idiot.
As he watched the subject of his fascination swagger through the time door, he groaned and ran his hands down his face in pure frustration.
Everything had just become a Hel of a lot more complicated.