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Chapter Text

Any story starts with the beginning. But, where should one search for the beginning? What should be considered the beginning of humanity's story: the appearance of the first human or the reasons that have led to their appearance? Or shall we look back further and just consider the appearance of the universe beginning of all stories - just in case?

Anyway, any story must start somewhere, and this story is not an exception to the rule. Let's skip the Big Bang and the appearance of the universe as well as the further millions of years - even if something from that period did affect the story in some way, the effect wasn't big enough to mention it (not now). Let's skip the appearance of stars and planets. Let's skip the appearance of the planet Earth (although, in the immediate moment of its appearance, it didn't have this name - very few things had names then) and the appearance of life on the planet. Let's skip the process of evolution of this life into huge reptiles and amphibians, which later were exterminated by the asteroid that crashed into the Earth. Let's skip the appearance of the first human (no matter in which way: by evolving from the ape, or by being created by Someone-Up-There), too. Although, humanity is bound to play a key role in this story.

Perhaps, one better start this story with the appearance of gods - the ones created by Ancient Egyptians. Although the Egyptians strongly believed that they were the ones created by the gods after their gods had created their world. Said gods, though never considering themselves creators of humans or their world, don't object to being worshiped since they have existed long before the Ancient Egyptians. See, that's a paradox here: the gods of Ancient Egypt were created by Ancient Egyptians, but are older than said Egyptians. Such paradoxes happen all the time if you create gods older than you.

Now, we skip the first and the second generations of the gods and stop on the third one - or rather on one of the representatives of this generation. Bastet Though, she has many other names: the Goddess of cats, the Goddes of Lower Egypt, Goddess of the sun and the moon, Goddess of joy, merriment and love, Goddess of feminine beauty, Goddess of fertility and domesticity, as well as Goddess of protection from contagious diseases, evil spirits and war. Despite having quite a list of titles, she isn't a busy deity. On the opposite, she gets bored pretty often. It was boredom that once drove Bastet to do the thing whose consequences... or rather, one particular consequence of which made this story possible - namely, the birth of one of its main characters.

Then - though the exact date of "then" is unknown even to the actor - one of the main characters was busy sucking on her mother's pert breasts. She was about 50 centimeters tall, weighed about 2-3 kilograms, and was unable to even hold her own head (at the top of which one could spot two small triangle ears), not to mention any other physical activities. When she wasn't busy sleeping and eating, one of the story's main characters observed the world around her with a keen interest in her eyes. And that was weird. Not the eyes, no: they were big, blue, and blind - absolutely normal for any newborn kitten. It was the interest in them that was weird. Blind eyes cannot see multiple living beings and objects that fill the physical world, but that didn't seem to bother the baby. She definitely could see something, and judging by her exciting "aoo", "ooa", and other baby sounds, the something was much more interesting than said physical world.

Now - the exact date of "now" is unknown as well, althoughThor and Bruce Banner are sure it was somewhere in the year 2018 - one of the story's main characters, having already gained more centimeters and kilograms, is busy sleeping near the main energetic reactors of the giant shuttle, which should have been in the Grandmaster's garage on Sakaar. She doesn't know the shuttle has been hijacked. She doesn't know the shuttle had a chance to get destroyed along with Asgard a few hours ago. She doesn't know she is now on the way to Earth together with a thousand Asgardians and hundreds of Sakaarian revolutionaries.

And she certainly doesn't know she has already become a part of this story. Yet.

Chapter Text

On the spaceship, which now served as a home to the entire species, there was a very disturbing atmosphere. Most Asgardians, for whom scientific and magical progress were always two inseparable parts of one, found huge flying machines operating exclusively by technology unusual. The fact that Thor Odinson, the crown prince and more recently the king of Asgard, sat at the helm, did not inspire confidence at all. More like, it made everyone even more nervous, because he had the same skill in aerobatics and navigation as Loki had in honesty and altruism. No wonder a wave of relieved sighs passed through the ship when the Valkyrie declared that the pilot's seat was primarily a pilot's seat, not a royal throne, and sat at the helm herself.

After setting the route and switching the ship to autopilot mode, she collapsed in her chair and fixed her brown eyes into the depths of space, occasionally casting a sidelong glance at the control panel. Thor and Loki did the same, standing a little further away. No one spoke a word, and the silence was broken only by the barely audible hum of technology. However, it was difficult to call this silence pacifying. Maybe the ligaments were resting, but the thought process did not even think to stop, pondering one thing or the other.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Loki asked his brother.

"Hm?" Thor did not understand.

"Going to Midgard."

"What?" he shrugged. "It is a good place. The planet is big, the food is delicious, and I am quite loved there..."

"Let me rephrase: are you sure it is a good idea to take me to Midgard?" clarified the God of Lies.

“Definitely,” Thor said. “You’ve already been there, you’ll quickly get used to it,” noticing his brother’s ingeniously raised eyebrow, he hastened to add: “And if something gets into your head, they will quickly stop you."

"So confident in your friends that you are ready to risk the planet?" the trickster chuckled.

"Yes. I’m also sure that you are no threat to it."

“I don’t even know whether to take it as a manifestation of your naivety or an underestimation of my abilities."

"Better take it as faith in your good side."

"You meant, as hope for its existence?" Loki continued in the same tone.

Thor was about to answer when suddenly the dim lighting in the cockpit was replaced by a complete absence, followed by a quiet "For Surtur's sake...". Only the buttons on the control panel continued to glow slightly. The brothers immediately turned toward the Valkyrie.

"Told you, a drunk pilot is a bad pilot," Loki shook his head.

“It wasn't me,” the Valkyrie replied with displeasure. “And for your information, I'm sober right now."

"What a relief."

“Enough you two,” Thor hastened to intervene. "So what about the light? Short circuit?"

“If that was a short circuit, it would short everything,” the Valkyrie replied, fussing around the panel. “It looks like the cable that is responsible for lighting on this unit has disconnected from the power reactor,” she waved her hand, beckoning the men to her, and pointed to the diagram. “You see, everything is working properly in other units, but here,” she pulled a small lever a couple of times, “it doesn’t turn on, because there is no access to energy.

"Why does the panel work?" the god of thunder asked.

"The panel is connected to a separate power supply. It, of course, is also connected to the main reactor, but even if it cracks, the accumulated energy will last for a while, ”the Valkyrie switched the slide and a detailed plan of some room was displayed on the screen. "Here is the reactor, and on this side - the cable. Just find the one that is not connected and fix the situation. All clear?

"Why us?" The brothers asked in unison.

"'Couse you're the only ones who've got nothing to do," she shrugged. "So, c'mon."

In the absence of counterarguments, the royal part of the crew went to execute the pilot's command. As the Valkyrie said, only they had problems with the light. This was good news because it was quite far to go to the system unit, where all the vital equipment for the ship was located, and there were more than enough sharp corners, irregularities, and everything else that you could run into or stumble upon.

Along the way, they now and then ran into Asgardians, cautiously wandering along the corridors. It was clear that the confusion and tension from recent events and the new environment had not yet passed, but interest in the new environment was a good sign. The adaptation process was launched as soon as the fear receded. After a while, everything would be normal again, Loki was sure of it. Not that he was an expert in huma... Asgardian psychology (there was no such word in their vocabulary), but the trickster was good at reading people - his God-of-Lies title required that of him. Everybody wants everything to be normal. Asgardians refused to change anything. At least, for as long as this "anything" was working. They used the same approach for every sphere of their life: from house chores to the political system. The people of Asgard were rather conservative. Nobody liked when their routine suddenly changed; Asgardiand preferred to pretend that everything had been normal until everything truly became normal for them. Specialties of Asgardian adaptation process. 

Therefore Loki was sure that everything would go the same way when they reached Midgard: there would be a period of time when Asgardians would be anxious around Midgardians and their lifestyle, and soon they would behave like nothing was wrong - as if they hadn't just moved to another planet but had simply moved to another house. They weren't that attached to the place itself. As his brother had said, Asgard wasn't a place but its people. Thus, everything was certain to end out just fine as long as there were familiar faces. And the surroundings... well, they were nothing more than decorations - something you can get used to after a while.

Although certain difficulties were to be expected, Loki thought. If Thor's thinking process turned on only in cases of rare emergencies, Loki's, on the other hand, never turned off. His brain kept on an active lifestyle, thinking and rethinking every idea. Not that it wasn't helpful at times - quite the opposite, actually - but Loki's head could use a little rest. However, it was now occupied by the thoughts of the future adaptation of Asgardian people in Midgard and all the possible challenges. 

"Thinking again?" Thor's voice rang out like a bolt from the blue.

"I always think, Thor, and I would advise you to do the same sometimes. Quite a rewarding activity. Especially if you do it before you do something."

"Come on, as if I never think about my actions!"

"To be honest, that is exactly what it is."

“Hey, this time I thought it over well before stea… borrowing that ship,” Thor replied with a touch of self-satisfaction. "I even managed to outwit you."

“It was an isolated incident that only confirms the theory,” the trickster shrugged.

"To hell with you," Thor waved him off, to which his brother only grinned. Perhaps the elder Odinson began to practice using the brain, but verbal battles he still has to learn and learn. "Oh, it seems that's the place."

They stopped in front of a large iron door, on which someone had pasted signs in different languages, but with the same content: “Dangerous! Do not enter!". Although, according to Loki, if someone really wanted no one to meddle in here, he should have written "Welcome! Please, come in!" Nothing stirs up rebellious instincts like a ban, he knew it for sure.

It was almost as dark inside as it was now in the pilot block, except that there were many more buttons, wires and other backlit nonsense, so the visibility was less. However, everyone was glad to find a switch for bright lamps on the ceiling. Rather, almost everyone...

As soon as the system unit was filled with light, there was either humming or growling. The men immediately tensed.

Looks like the cable didn’t come loose by itself, Loki thought as he pulled out his daggers.

"See anyone?" Thor asked quietly, looking around and carefully walking forward.

"No, but the sound came from there," answered the trickster, nodding towards a large round thing with a bunch of wires, buttons, panels and other things called a power reactor.     

As soon as they approached a couple more steps, they heard some rustling. Whatever it was, it seemed to know that it had been discovered.

“Let's go around on both sides,” Thor suggested, continuing to look around, but now in search of some weapon. Not finding one, he whispered to his brother: "Loki, give me a dagger."

"You'll manage without it," he answered, bypassing the reactor on the left.

“Greedy,” the god muttered offendedly under his breath, heading to the right.

They came close enough to the reactor, but so far they have not seen anyone. However, they heard growling more clearly now. It was coming from somewhere below. The brothers looked at each other in bewilderment. Between the floor and the circular power source was a palm-sized gap. Thor bent down and tried to look under the reactor, but he could not see anything. Then he, without thinking long (or, more precisely, without thinking at all), somehow put his hand in there and wanted to try to find the source of the sound by touch, but before he had time to shove half of his forearm into the slit, something grabbed his hand. This "something" was very sharp, there was a lot of it, and it was also very painful. The thunder god sprang to his feet as if scalded, holding his bloodied hand.

Loki couldn't help but grin. Think first and then do? No, this tactic was clearly not for his brother. Having enjoyed the suffering of Thor, the trickster lowered his eyes, carefully watching whether the troublemaker would jump out of his hiding place. Then his gaze caught on something else, which should not be here. Footwear. Women's shoes, to be more precise. Red sandals with long heels, around which a cable was wrapped, most likely the very cable that was responsible for supplying electricity to the pilot unit. The God of Lies started examining the floor even more closely. He noticed a piece of denim peeking out from under the reactor, and under a pile of multi-colored wires, a bag was hiding or at least was trying to hide. One could get the impression that someone was trying to clean up as much as they could in the shortest time. He looked back at the jeans. The amount of tissue peeking out from under the reactor gradually decreased. Whoever was hiding was clearly in no hurry to part with its things. He doubted, however, that this "whoever" was the owner of all these clothes - no woman, however flexible she might be, could not get under the reactor, even if she had lacked a few bones. Stuffing the bag under the reactor would be difficult too. First of all, the creature would have to get out of its hiding place.

Loki approached the bag. There was another growl from under the reactor. When the trickster began to remove the wires that hid the bag - also a woman's, though it wasn't a bag you might see a woman caring to the cafe or a ball, more like something you would take with you to the forest or an isolated island - the growl intensified. An idea arose in the mind of the god of lies.

"Thor," he called for his brother. "Give me your cape. Or rather, what was left of it."

He looked at his brother in bewilderment, but decided not to ask unnecessary questions and silently held out the red cloth. Loki wrapped it around one arm, and with the other called his brother to him.

"See the bag?" Thor nodded. "Take it."

"Why?" this time, he could not resist the question.

"Just take it."

"Is this part of some clever plan?"

“You could say that,” Loki shrugged.  "Come on already. I promise it won't end with anyone's death."

The last phrase sounded reassuring, Thor thought and reached with his unharmed hand for the bag. As soon as his fingers closed on it, a shadow flew out from under the reactor with the speed of a ballistic missile, with the clear intention of turning those very fingers into mincemeat. The other hand, which in time grabbed the creature by the scruff of the neck, prevented "shadow" from reaching its goal. The animal - and it was clearly it - somehow twisted and grabbed four paws and teeth into several layers of dense tissue. The inability to tear the hand holding it into blood clearly angered the creature, which it hastened to express by growling, snorting, hissing and more persistent attempts to bleed the offender.

"Such a small animal, and such a noisy one," Loki said displeasedly, holding the quirky and scratching animal with his hand wrapped in cloth. "Do you know what it is?"

Thor carefully examined the source of the problem. It was a four-legged, tailed, brown-haired creature, in whose arsenal, as he had already seen, was a set of sharp claws and teeth. The animal looked very familiar...

“I think I saw someone similar on Midgard,” Thor said uncertainly, continuing to examine the animal, but slowly coming closer. Finally, the desired memory surfaced. "Oh yes! It's a cat. People have them like pets."    

Loki looked at the animal continuing to struggle, scratch and bite, and raised an eyebrow in surprise. Humans continue to amaze him. He would like to meet a man who, looking at this snorting yellow-eyed fury with big triangle ears, would decide: “That's what I've been lacking at home for complete happiness!”. Then he remembered about sandals and jeans.

"And these bea... cats, do they wear clothes and shoes?" The trickster asked, still staring at the animal.

Will this pest get tired of scratching and biting? Loki thought, feeling grateful for the fact that his brother's cape had been made from very thick fabric. Otherwise, this little pest would have ripped his arm to the bones.

“Uh, I don’t think so,” said Odinson. "By the way, where is the women's bag from?"

“I suppose, from the same place where these sandals came from,” Loki nodded in the direction of the shoes. "And something tells me that if you put your hand under the reactor again, you will find more interesting things there."

Thor hurried to check. With difficulty squeezing his hand under the power reactor and feeling the floor, he, in addition to a thick layer of dust, found there a tank top, jeans, and, to his embarrassment, a set of women's underwear. The retrieval of all of these items from the women's wardrobe was accompanied by a loud displeased growl from the cat. 

“Um,” Thor said thoughtfully. "And now what?"

"How about putting the cable back in place?" Loki suggested. The cat had stopped trying to devour his hand and now, continuing to cling to the remnants of the cape with all four limbs, it was drilling him with its yellow eyes full of madness, hatred, and fury. "How do humans put up with these creatures?"

“Well, people love cats,” said the thunder god sitting by the cables.  "And cats love people. Or so it seems."

Loki turned his gaze back to his brother's blood-drenched hand and then to the animal. The expression on its face was almost screaming: "Come on, loosen your grip even for a second, and I'll gut you right there."

"If so, then humans have a rather perverted concept of love."

"Well, that seems to be all," Thor got up from the floor and shook off his pants. "Let's go?"

“Come on,” Loki answered and headed for the exit. The cat began to turn its head, checking the situation and, most likely, planning retreat moves in case it managed to break free from the trickster's grasp.  "And take a bag of things with you."

The God of Thunder complied, though he wasn't too comfortable with having to deal with woman's underwear. The crazy ball of fur and fury resumed its activities with redoubled vigor and even managed to almost escaped the trickster's grip a couple of times, which frightened two gods, especially Thor, making him hide his hand behind the back.

"How about we put it," Thor pointed at the hissing animal, "into the bag? So that it doesn't escape on our way."

Loki considered the idea. To get rid of the necessity to hold the little beast seemed appealing. However...

"I will need to stop holding it in order to put it inside and then close the bag," he looked into the big yellow eyes again. The message in them remained the same. "It will only take a second, of course, but I am somehow sure that a second will be more than enough for this beast."

The Valkyrie had been sitting in her chair for about forty minutes with her feet on the main panel and had been waiting for two "technicians" to come back. The light was back twenty minutes ago - which was twice as much time as she had expected it to be. Seriously, how much time does it take to find the only unconnected cable and connect it with the only available port? Ten minutes top - time to get to the room included.

So, not surprising that when the two were back, Brunnhilde greeted them with the most disgruntled look she could manage.

"What took you so long?" she asked before Thor's foot even reached the cockpit floor. "Was it so had to find the only disconnected cable?" her gaze lowered, her brows frowned."What happened to your hand? Also, where, and most importantly what do you need woman's clothes for?"

"First, not what but who happened," Loki corrected her. "And speaking of clothes, they're not for him. You see, we've got a little problem."

"What problem?" the Valkyrie was completely confused.

"This problem," Loki extended the hand that was holding the cat (or rather the hand the cat was holding). "Don't come too close unless you wish for injuries."

The Valkyrie was looking at the creature with confusion until it turned its head to her; then her face lightened with surprise. The cat looked surprised too - it even stopped clinging to the trickster's arm with all its four paws.

Brunnhilde gave the clothes in Thor's hand another look. If the white fabric could be confused with something else, the dark-blue denim could not. Not to mention the brown bag...

No way... she thought, still in shock, looking at the familiar yellow-eyed muzzle.

"Dana?" her voice sounded as shocked as her face looked. The animal - the one that had been growling, hissing, and snorting before - said a short "meow" that contained enough discontent for the population of a middle-sized country. The Valkyrie looked at the trickster immediately. "Lackey, let her go."

"Into the abyss perhaps," he replied. The cat replied in angry growling. "And it's Loki."

"Whatever. Let her go this instant."

"I don't think 'tis a good idea," Thor agreed with his brother. "This animal may be little, but it is very aggressive."

"And as angry as Hel's fury," the trickster added, looking at the animal with clear displeasure.

"She won't get kinder if you continue to hold her," the Valkyrie said to him. "Quite the opposite, actually. I'm serious, Lackey, let her go. She won't attack you the moment she's free."

I hope, she added in her head.

"It's Loki," he corrected her automatically. "And I don't believe you. This beast's eyes tell a different story."

Brunnhilde rolled her eyes. She knew he was right, but still.

"Fine, how about this: you let her go and I keep a hold on her?"

Trickster eyed her suspiciously, then switched his gaze to the cat, then back to her again.

"I would wrap my hand in some thick material if I were you," he replied at last.

"Unfortunately for you, you aren't me, Lackey," Brunnhilde smirked, which made him roll his eyes; he seemed tired of having to correct her every time she failed to say his name right. The Valkyrie came closer and put her hands under the cat's front paws. "I'm holding her, let go."

Loki did just that and it took him only a moment to increase the distance between him and the yellow-eyed beast that was now sitting calmly in the Valkyrie's arms.

"Is it your cat?" Thor asked.

"First, stop calling her it," she said. "And second, no, she's not mine. But I do know her well," she looked at the dear brown muzzle. "We've known each other for thirty years already. Thor, gimme the clothes."

The Thunderer put the clothes on the only horizontal surface (that wasn't floor or ceiling) - the main panel. The Valkyrie let the cat go, making two other Asgardians relocate themselves to another side of the cockpit in less than three seconds. The cat walked imposingly - and maybe a little bit arrogantly - to the panel and set near it, moving her tail with clear irritation.

"Turn around," Brunnhilde commanded and turned her back to the animal.

The Odinsins, however, had another opinion.

"I am not going to let this beast out of my eyesight," Loki proclaimed.

"Me neither," Thor supported him.

The cat bared its teeth and hissed threateningly, making the Asgardians instinctively take another step back.

Brunnhilde looked at the animal with something between displeasure and doom.

"Look, you have already made it clear what you think about the situation, there's no need to remind us of your resentment."

The cat made another displeased "meow" and some sharp gesture with its tail, her eyes were still burning imaginary holes in all of them.

"She can understand us?" Thor inquired in a hushed tone, looking at the animal with surprise.

The animal looked at him in return. Somehow, it managed to make its muzzle even angrier and more discontent than it had been before.

"Yes, and she can hear us loud and clear too," the Valkyrie said to him. In her mind, there was an understanding that if everything went on as it did now - Loki and Thor's concerns about being attacked by the cat would not be baseless anymore. "And before you insult her more, Thor, I recommend us all to turn around and give her her time," she looked the cat in the eye. "Dana, please, don't exacerbate things, alright?"

The cat was glaring at her for a few seconds and then snorted as if having made her an enormous favor. Brunnhilde took it as a "yes" and made Odinsons turn around by gripping their shoulders.

Behind their backs, they could hear weird sounds that usually accompany the transformation of bones, tendons, muscles, skin, and other organs, followed by quiet growling swearing, and the rustle of fabric.

"What is going on?" asked Thor quietly.

The Valkyrie barely managed to open her mouth in order to either hush him or explain when she was interrupted by a woman's voice: deep, gruff, and angry.

"I would also like to know, sweety, what the fuck is going on herrre."

I should have had a few drinks today, Brunnhilde thought regretfully, turning toward the source of the familiar voice and meeting the familiar face. The face now looked more humanoid than feline. Not the eyes though - those remained the same: bright yellow, with narrow pupils, and full of anger.

"I'm glad to see you too, my friend," the Valkyrie sighed. "It's been a while, hasn't it?" she turned her head toward Thor and Loki, whose eyes were shifting between the two women. "Alright, fellas, meet Dana - my best friend and former flatmate. Dana, meet-"

"I alrrready know these idiots," the woman interrupted her rudely. The Valkyrie silently said "thank you" to the Norns for the still-lasting state of shock said "idiots" were in which prevented them from taking part in the conversation. For now, at least. "What the fuck arrrre they doing herrrre? What the fuck is this ship, full of Asgarrrdians, doing in the open space? And what the fuck arrre you doing with them?"

The conversation was going to be an easy one and definitely not the pleasant one too. Brunnhilde was silently getting all of her strength, patience, and nerves together; although, what she truly wanted to get together was some strong alcoholic drinks before pouring the mix down her throat - but that would have to wait.

"All in good time," the Valkyrie raised her hands in a calming gesture. "So, speaking of your first question..."

Chapter Text

There are times when you face something and suddenly realize that life has not prepared you for these things. Brunnhilde had had a fair share of such things in her life: for instance, her first murder, being the commander of the Valkyrior, losing the battle with Hela, coming back to Asgard after so many years... Another thing she hadn't been prepared for was Dana coming into her life. Although, being prepared for that was an impossible task in the first place. Thirty years ago, this bitchy woman broke into her grey alcoholic routine with all the grace of a natural disaster mercilessly sweeping away all obstacles and resistance attempts, leaving the Valkyrie no choice but to capitulate and accept the presence of another person in her life (and her flat) - a person who would turn her life upside-down.

It would be wrong to say they had become friends quickly - the road to their current relationships had been rather thorny, but it had been worth the result. Not every couple with many years of experience together and a couple of children could boast such a strong and trusting relationship as she and Dana had. It was a kind of friendship that put love and family ties to shame.

Although, it never stopped them from yelling, arguing, and being rude to each other. However, if Brunnhilde was already used to Dana's character (meaning she learned how to partly\completely ignore her bitchiness, grumpiness, swearing, sarcasm, and aggression) thanks to all the years she had spent together, others were not. Moreover, Thor and Loki were now at the exact place the Valkyrie had been thirty years ago - in close proximity to the natural disaster called Dana.

And though both Odinsons, fortunately, continued to keep quiet while Brunnhilde was explaining all the latest events to her friend, the collision was inevitable. The only hope left for the Valkyrie was a chance that Dana would calm down a bit after the explanation was over - and two royal persons would continue to keep their mouths shut (and preferably would not move at all).

In order not to give anyone - namely Dana - any reason for a more detailed debriefing, Brunnhilde decided to keep a few (most of) details to herself, making the story so short you could post it on Twitter in a single post.

By the end of her story, Dana's face showed a deep thoughtfulness rather than barely controlled anger, which Brunnhilde congratulated herself with. It seemed that even such meager food for thought was able to reduce the degree of her friend's discontent and avert her attention from Asgardians. Although, Brunnhilde had to give them credit for not adding fuel to the fire. For now, they were as quiet as mice which was the best possible strategy.

If it goes on like this, then maybe everything will go much smoother than I expected, she thought with hope and joy, though not letting herself relax even for a moment.

Unfortunately, new food for thought was digested by Dana's brain pretty quickly.

"Let me get it straight, sweetie," although there was no more growling in the woman's voice, the voice itself hadn't lost an ounce of threat, "you found some strange guy at the dump, saved him from becoming someone's main course, but only so you could sell him as a slave to that perverted party-maker with sadistic tendencies. Then this very guy said that Asgard - your common homeland - was being threatened by his crazy sister, who, by the way, was the same crazy sadist that had eliminated your Valkyrior. You suddenly got a thirst for revenge and decided to join the guy's team - whom, need I remind you, you had known for a few days top - after what the three of you stole that yellow swallow for orgies, and were off to fight an Asgardian version of the Night King and his... her army of white walkers. But that Not-Yet-A-Queen didn't want to die, and for the guy, apparently, such a discovery was a complete surprise, because he hadn't bothered himself with plan B, which resulted in the need of improvising. He didn't come up with anything other than reviving some sort of a demonic giant and letting him destroy his sister dearest together with their beloved homeland. All while your company was evacuating the people of said homeland with help of this very ship that had been delivered here right on time by your fourth teammate together with a group of Sacaarian revolutionaries. And now we are all together in the open space, just a few hours from the place where Asgard used to be. Did I miss anything?"

"When you say it, it all sounds pretty... idiotic," Brunnhilde made a face. Dana had a talent for retelling others' stories in a way that made them sound stupid. Although, usually she just had to listen to the stories with one of her popular expressions to make other people sound like idiots. 

"Perhaps, it's because the story was one big idiotism?" her expression of deep thoughtfulness switched back to the expression of barely controlled anger. "You got yourself into a dangerous and reckless misadventure because of some guy you barely fuckin' knew and who, it seems, infected you with extra testosterone. Although, I'm sure your foolishness and many pints of alcohol you had poisoned your poor liver with also had a role to play in your decision-making process! Had your life been so fuckin' boring that you decided to follow some idiot to another bloody realm without a single thought simply because he wanted to kill the same cunt as you?! Have you lost your fuckin' mind?! That was..."

Brunnhilde preferred not to argue with her: firstly, there was no point; secondly, she had no counterargument. She was just waiting until Dana finished her lecturing session - her life experience had already proved many times that if you let this woman pour some of her negativity out, she was easier to deal with later. 

In the corner of her eye, the Valkyrie could see Thor and Loki looking at each other. Seemed like they still hadn't made up their minds about the situation. Thank Norns for that.  

Finally, the lecturing session generously flavored with some foul language reached its end. Just as she had expected, Dana looked calmer than she had been before, though not much.

"Fine, screw Asgard and the rest of all that shit," Dana let out an annoyed sigh. "Where are we heading now? You can't go to Sacaar unless you have a death wish; Asgard, as it's been mentioned before, is screwed; hanging around the space is not as fascinating as it may sound..."

For the first time since the beginning of their meeting, Brunnhilde genuinely smiled. She had an answer - she hadn't mentioned it during her story intentionally so she had some good news at the end.

"We are going to the Earth, Dana."

As she had expected, this news shocked the woman - in a good sense. The only thing remaining from her former discontent was a slight frown, her eyes changed from anger to thoughtfulness again.

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea. And that Banner guy shall get back home - the poor soul must be really homesick after everything," Dana said without sarcasm, nodding her head in agreement with her thoughts. "Okay, all is clear with the three of us. What about the rest?"

"The rest?" Brunnhilde didn't quite get the question.

"Where are the rest going, including these two?" Dana pointed toward the Odinsons (still silent, thank Norns).

The Valkyrie blinked. It seemed that Dana hadn't understood her right... 

"All of us are going to the same place," she said, this time with an anxious smile. "To the Earth."

Now it was Dana's time to blink. The cockpit was suddenly filled with almost absolute silence. Until Dana spoke again.

"What do you mean "all of us"?" the tone of her voice was perfectly even and softer than before, but for some reason, it did nothing to ease the atmosphere. On the opposite, hearing this voice was akin to hearing the ice crack while making selfies at the center of the frozen lake. 

To make the situation worse, the state of shock that had kept the two Odinsons quiet seemed to leave them. The older one for sure.

"We are going to make a new Asgard on Earth," Thor replied with an uncertain smile, bringing attention to his persona.

"By "we" you mean everyone present here?" Dana clarified, emphasizing the word "everyone".

The God of Thunder nodded. His smile became more confident, his posture seemed more relaxed. 

"Well, save for Banner, of course," he added. "Although he is welcome to move with us if he so wishes. I think he'll like it."

"Oh," Dana's voice was getting calmer and calmer with every phrase while Brunnhilde was getting more and more nervous. "Where are you planning to land when you get there: somewhere near the opera in Stuttgart or on top of the Stark Tower in New York?"

Thor's smile faded in instant, his shoulders getting stiff. Loki, who hadn't been relaxed in the first place, seemed to get even tenser, looking at Dana expectantly. Brunnhilde was combing through the memories of all her talks with her friend, trying to find those that had "opera", "Stuttgart", "Stark Tower", and "New York" in them, but with no result.

This time the pregnant pause was interrupted by Loki.

"You are Midgardian," there was no trace of interrogative intonation.

"Egyptian, actually," now all dana's attention was focused solely on him. "And you are either an overly self-confident or overly naive idiot if you consider it a good idea to come back to Earth after the mayhem you have caused there. War crimes have no expiration date."

The God of Lies smirked and turned to his brother. 

"See, Thor? You are an idiot. Now we just have to decide whether you are a self-confident or a naive one," he looked back at Dana, an annoying smirk still on his face. "How kind of you to worry about my well-being, but I assure you that there is no need - my future is none of your concern."

Noticing the barely discernible changes in her friend's face and gaze, Brunnhilde realized that whatever sins Loki had committed in his past the vengeance was there. And if his punishment had come in the form of Dana, Loki must have had a lot of sins.

"That's where you are mistaken," the woman's voice was as sweet as arsenic. "I just have to make sure you get your punishment in the near future."

"In that case, you are a naive idiot here if you truly believe that Midgardians can make your wish come true," Loki said with a tune of leniency in his voice. "Dare to dream, though."

"Firstly, dreaming is about wishing for impossible things, and my wishes are quite feasible. Secondly, you should have already known from your own experience that it is a very bad (and unhealthy) habit to underestimate humans. And thirdly, you bloody supremacist, I make my wishes come true by myself. Therefore, even if you do manage to escape War Crimes Tribunal somehow, I will take your punishment into my own hands," now it was Dana's turn to smirk. "And trust me, you won't like it."

"That could be said about anything that is somehow related to you, bitch. Your company is punishment itself."

"Awesome - no need to waste additional efforts on making your life insufferable."

"I must warn you I have nothing against wasting little additional efforts in order to screw your life."

"Be careful not to overdo yourself, you drudge - I give at least as good as I get."

"Color me scared," Loki said with the same annoying smirk. "We are at different levels, kitten."

What an idiot, Brunnhilde thought taking notice of her friend's eyelid twitch a little. The trickster had no idea just how right he was. 

"I couldn't agree more," Dana's smirk grew wider, baring her teeth not all of which had turned back into human ones. "And if you call me "kitten" one more time, you're going to feel this difference on your own skin, boy."

"I think we got each other," the Valkyrie decided to interfere before the banter turned into the demonstration of force. "Dana, I have one question for you. What has got you here?"

"You've seen it yourself, sweetie," she replied, although her gaze was still focused on Loki. "It was this cocky boy supremacist."

"His name is Loki, actually," Thor corrected her.

"I know his bloody name. Just like the rest of Earth."

"Oh, I had no idea I was such a big celebrity in Midgard," Loki clearly had no intention to stay out of the conversation. "I am flattered."

"You'll become an even bigger celebrity the moment you fall under the Tribunal," Dana said in a voice of a friendly viper. "I hope there'll be tickets for the Tribunal sessions or a live broadcast at least - don't want to miss a second."

"No, seriously, enough," Brunnhilde stepped right in front of her friend, breaking the eye contact between her and the trickster. "Why were you on this ship? And when exactly did you come back to Sacaar? You were absent for two years."

It worked - Dana's attention was finally on the Valkyrie.

"I came back... two-three days ago. To make the story short, I headed to your place right away, but you weren't there," her yellow eyes looked at the Asgardians for a second. "At least now I know the reason. However, back then I thought you were busy torturing your liver in one of your favorite bars, so I went looking for you..."

Brunnhilde seemed to realize where the story was about to go.

"I didn't find you in the first bar - you know, the one you had once fallen asleep in - but I found out that the bartender was a good source of the latest news, so we had some very interesting conversation during which she told me everything that had been happening on Sacaar for the last two years. Of course, we had a few breaks that were spent exploring some new recipes from the menu... By the way, they had come up with a fantastic cocktail based on that delicious bright red something that tastes like cherry cognac - the one you had gifted me at the housewarming party..."

"Dana..."

"Oh yes, sure," the woman switched back to the original topic. "So, you weren't in the first bar. I went to check the second one - the one near my former job."

"Is it the same bar you once walked into wearing nothing but the towel, and we were having free drinks all evening?" Brunnhilde still remembered that evening clearly, although she had been wasted for most of it. The image of half-naked Dana with an unfocused look in her eyes and a drunken smile on her face had gotten so deep inside her memory that neither alcohol nor even amnesia could get it out of there. 

"The very same. By the way, that towel incident is still remembered there, so I had a few more cocktails there. What I didn't have that evening, however, was food... All in all, I had been already drunk when I got to the third bar, so I couldn't quite recall the reason I had decided to go there in the first place, but there was music, and dancing, and you know I love music and dancing, so..."

"You decided to come off in full," the Valkyrie finished instead of her.

"Not really," she frowned. "Just had a little fun, and then I thought it was high time to go home a have a good sleep."

"Please, don't tell me you confused your flat with this ship. I know that alcohol makes you unfocused and inattentive, plus you were absent for two years, but still..." 

"I didn't confuse anything, sweetie. And I wasn't as drunk as you seem to think," Dana made a discontent face (that is, her usual expression). "When I left the bar, there was some green bacchanalia going on the streets. Seriously, it looked like a demo version of the Brazilian Carnival, but instead of shiny bikinis and bright feathers, everyone was wearing green rags. Although knowing Sakaarians, perhaps there were bikinis and feathers somewhere and I just didn't see..."

"Dana," Brunnhilde interrupted her again before the woman started a comparative analysis of the Hulk procession (as the Valkyrie called that event) and the Brazilian Carnival.

"Yeah, right," her friend brushed her off. "You know better than me what usually keeps the atmosphere of such bacchanalias happy and joyous: occasion, alcohol, and drugs." 

"Did you decide to have a few more cocktails?" the Valkyrie inquired, but immediately raised her hands when Dana had eyed her with displeasure. "Sorry, go on."

"To sate your curiosity, sweetie, no, I did not take any more cocktails, Moreover, I had absolutely no wish to join that... whatever the hell it was. But a couple of teenage idiots had other plans. And they also had some green powder that they thought would make everything even funnier. What they didn't have, apparently, was at least an ounce of common sense which would have helped them realize that trying to open the bag in the place it is not supposed to be opened was a very bad idea - it looked like an explosion of green flour," the woman made a face, She wasn't fond of those memories, clearly. "I don't know what that stuff was or how it affects the body: through the contact with skin, eyes, mouth... Not that it mattered then, anyway, since I had that fucking powder everywhere - took me a while to get it off of my hair, and the dress had to be changed in the nearest alley... So, a few minutes later I was stoned, and not in the sense that the world suddenly became beautiful and all of my problems went away. Rather, it felt like I had a monkey on my neck that was clapping plates right above my head, and the world suddenly became so bright it fucking hurt my eyes. Honestly, at that time I didn't give a fuck about where to go as long as it was some dark, quiet, and preferably warm place. The closest thing was that monstrosity of a tower belonging to our crazy party-maker. I got inside without any trouble and just walked through the least lightened corridor which led to the garage, and then I just got into the first ship I had seen, went to the room with the reactor in it, and passed out."

"Why did you go to the energetic block instead of one of the chambers?" Brunnhilde asked with genuine confusion. "A bed is more comfortable that a metal floor."

"I was planning to turn off the reactor, so that no idiot," she gave the Odinsons an eloquent look, "could fly this ship. I just didn't have time to do this, because my consciousness had gotten lost. And then these two came in, turned on the fucking lights, interrupted my rest, and brought me here. Finita la comedia."

Something in her story seemed off to Brunnhilde. She replayed her friend's words over and over until she got it.

"This ship was hijacked by the group of revolutionaries, and went through the Devil's Anus," the Valkyrie started to list. "Then it came to Asgard where we were fighting Hela, her army of the dead, and then an enormous fire demon from Muspelheim that destroyed Asgard a few moments later..."

"Have you decided to retell me the story?" Dana raised her eyebrows inquiringly. "There's no need to repeat yourself, sweetie, my memory has yet to let me down."

"No, I just wanted to emphasize that during the last twenty-four hours... a lot of things have happened, all of which have happened right under your nose. But you managed to sleep through all of it somehow."

"More like stay unconscious."

"Not much of a difference."

"How about I knock you unconscious, sweetie," the woman drawled venomously, "and you tell me in the morning just how there's not much of a difference? How do you like this plan, huh?"

"I have a better plan," Loki decided to raise his voice, making Dana switch her attention to himself once again. The Valkyrie wanted to knock him unconscious for negating all of her efforts on making the conversation as peaceful and fast as possible. "How about I help you regain the unconscious state which Thor and I, unfortunately, broke and you spare us all the need to tolerate your company. Do we have a deal?"

"Lackey, one more word and you will regain the unconscious state," Brunnhilde hissed at him. "This time I'll make sure to give you a stronger punch."

The trickster made a face at painful memories. Dana, on the other hand, looked at her friend with obvious approval.

"I think, we have already had enough fights today," as strange as it was, this wonderful idea came from Thor. "How about we all have a rest? These last few days have been quite a challenge..."

No, Thor, the real challenge is barely starting, the Valkyrie thought, looking at her friend. Then her eyes switched to Loki for a quick moment. Fortunately for us, the main recipient is going to be Lackey.

He had it coming, Brunnhilde concluded. He shouldn't have provoked Dana, especially when Brunnhilde herself had been doing everything in her power to prevent any escalation.

"Splendid idea," she supported the thunderer and then look his brother straight in the eye, trying to convey to him the meaning of her next words: "You two should go and rest: the day's been long and tiresome, and the hour is rather late..."

"And we have something to talk about, sweetie," Dana added.

"Is our presence bothering you? Wouldn't guess considering your lovely conversation just a few seconds ago," the trickster noticed, having his smirk back.

"Lackey, it will take me just a few seconds to throw you into the open space."

"Don't," Dana said immediately which surprised everyone. "He'll die there without redeeming his crimes, and that's not what I want."

"Oh, so now you've decided to become my bodyguard? Are you going to chase after me until we are in Midgard and make sure I am safe and sound? How nice of you."

Is he provoking her on purpose? the Valkyrie could tell that her eyelid was going to start twitching soon. And here I thought he was the smart sibling...

The only thing that was affecting Brunnhilde's nerves more than Loki's provocations was Dana's reaction to these provocations. More precisely, the absence of any reaction. Even in her "neutral" state this woman usually was quick to pick up a (verbal) fight. Her current state could be described as irritated and still angry, so the trickster's provocations should have resulted in something bigger than just a few sarcastic comebacks. A few tries to scratch out his eyes, for example. However, Dana behaved restrainedly. Suspiciously so.

She was up to something. A revenge plan, most likely. Brunnhilde would be lying if she said such thoughts didn't make her feel certain anticipation. Not only did her friend know how to have her revenge, but she also loved it from the bottom of her heart. Although, sometimes it was hard to believe the woman had a heart in the first place.

"Actually, I never planned on spending too much of my time on you," Dana said in an even tone that didn't quite match all the emotions reflecting in her eyes. "However, if you don't think you can manage to keep yourself alive, then so be it, I might check to see whether you're dead or not from time to time."

"Aren't you tired of this?" Brunnhilde moved closer to her friend, ready to grab her shoulder in case there was a fight after all. "You have months ahead of you to argue with one another. Don't waste all of your sarcasm supplies on the first day."

"Don't worry, sweetie, I have enough supplies to last very long," the woman said in a confident voice.

"And so do I," the trickster replied in tone.

The Valkyrie eyed Thor - her only possible ally in this situation - with a blatant plea for help. The hoped she had managed to convey the message if-we-don't-do-anything-with-these-two-it-will-never-end just with the eye-contact. Luckily for her, Thor seemed to have understood everything and hurried to switch his brother's attention to himself.

"You know, Loki, we also have to discuss... certain moments regarding... Midgard."

"Want to agree in advance on visiting days in prison?" Dana inquired with a smile as friendly as a razor blade. "Or, perhaps, the defense strategy for the Tribunal?"

Now the Valkyrie's pleading look was directed at her friend. Not that she noticed it though, the woman's attention was still solely on Loki, just as his attention was solely on her. If the intensity of gaze could burn holes, there would be nothing but the two tiny handfuls of ashes left of the two of them.

"Whatever we are going to discuss, it is none of your business," Loki told her with the same sarcastic tone and, thank the Norns, let his brother lead him away. "Have a horrible night, bitch."

"Try not to die in your sleep, idiot."

"Good night, everyone!" Thor said with a wide smile as if trying to reduce all the negativity with it. "See you all in the morning!"

"Sure thing," Brunnhilde replied with a much lesser level of optimism both on her face and in her voice.

She kept her body and mind tense unit the Odinsons closed the door after themselves and she could no longer hear the sound of their steps; then the Valkyrie let herself relax and put her hand on her friend's shoulder to keep her in place.

"I'm glad you're here, Dana," she said softly. "Truly."

"Me too, sweetie," the woman nodded and gave the door an unpleased look. "Though, I cannot say the same about everyone."

Brunnhilde had no other choice but to sigh hopelessly. Not that she had expected anything else - not after what had been happening here a few minutes ago. She had heard of a phenomenon called "love at the first sight", but never believed in it. How was it possible to have any strong feelings for the person you had just met? However, now the Valkyrie was ready to reconsider her beliefs because she had become a witness to what could only be called "dislike at first sight".

If anybody asked Loki to name three of the qualities he felt most proud of, that would be his ability to quickly adapt to any circumstances, his skill of manipulation, and his self-control. The latter was a highly useful skill especially if you were surrounded by an unfair father, an arrogant brother with his bunch of three idiots and a love fool as loyal to him as a dog, and other representatives of a high society, for whom lies and hypocrisy came as easily as breathing - when you are a part of such a... unique society, it is a must to control your emotions, your tongue, and your body in general, because the temptation to show everybody what you truly think of them with the help of certain eloquent words and no less eloquent punches to the face could be too hard to resist sometimes. So, Loki had to develop this skill since he was a child and his self-control had not let him down.

That is, until this day.

Bitch. Scum. Prat. Opinionated brat. Bloody pain in the ass. Hel's curse that had fallen on their heads. Insufferable, impudent, maddening know-it-all with a venomous tongue that was far too long... The list of synonyms for the name "Dana" made by Loki during the last hour had already been big enough to be written on a few pages, but it was still growing nonetheless. 

This woman annoyed him. Badly. Incredibly badly. So badly that his self-control, which had had to help him to reduce their interactions to the bare minimum, had gone down the drain, letting the irritation raise and pour out of him in a form of sarcastic comments, provoking the same reaction from her side, and as a result, making him interact with that bitch further instead of ignoring her existing as a self-controlled person had to do.

But it was impossible to hold his tongue with her. Her emotions: all that irritation and fury that Loki could see in her eyes had seemed to call out to his own feelings (not so different from hers) that he had been trying to hold back. This woman had been extracting his emotions from under his control, not letting him ignore her presence. Loki hated it. Even Thor in his most annoying moments - and there had been a lot of those in their shared youth - had never been able to affect the trickster the way that bloody cat-woman could.

If there was another person that could annoy Loki to more or less the same extent, it was Tony Stark. He also possessed extra self-confidence, not to mention the sharp tongue he could never hold behind his teeth. Also, there was that second-rated warlock from London that was far too opinionated and arrogant for a petty Midgardian.

If the trickster kept records of irritating persons, then "impudent bitch" would take honorable first place, moving "upstart in the iron armor" to the second one, and "second-rated warlock" would have to take the third place. The fact that the top three of the most irritating people were from Midgard was unnerving, especially considering his final destination. If the concentration of annoying Midgardians is too much, then the remains of his self-control that Loki might be able to save after months of putting up with that arrogant bitch won't be enough to ignore the irritants.

Although, he had to admit that he doubted there would be a Midgardian able to push his buttons harder than Dana. He hated everything in her: from the thick mane of chocolate hair to her swarthy feet. But the most hateful thing about her was her mouth. The words she said, the tone she spoke in, the way she smirked... He had wanted to break that bitch's neck just to shut up her irritating mouth. 

Insufferable woman, the trickster concluded to himself. For the last few hours, he had been busy lying on top of the duvet and thinking about how much the new passenger was irritating him and how nice it would be for all of them if the said passenger just... disappeared. To some remote planet, preferably. Jotunheim, for instance. The bright lights there existed only in fantasies, so she would have no problem finding a dark place to sleep (or to lie unconscious), and there was a high possibility her sleep might become eternal. Or she could disappear to Muspelheim. That woman's hot temper would be a perfect match to the local climate...

When Loki was finally able to fall asleep, he dreamed a rather interesting dream about Laufey and Surtur chasing after a brown cat that was calling two giants idiots in a human-like voice.

Chapter Text

If Dana were asked what feelings were the most common for her, the answer would probably be discontent, irritation, and anger. She disliked many things: idiots, idiotic deeds, false speeches, mustard, snobbism, cruelty to animals, traffic jams, people with no principles, fast food, and the list went on. It also included failed chauvinistic conquerors with megalomania and a long, venomous tongue. 

She never expected to face Mr. I-Wanted-To-Conquer-The-Earth-But-Could-Not-Go-Past-Manhatten, but the universe had once again proved that life was indeed full of surprises, which weren't always good ones. The Asgardian had been irritating enough on the news channels (broadcasting the alien invasion was dangerous, of course, but the ratings are always worth it) or on the YouTube videos (filming the alien invasion on the phone was dangerous, of course, but the likes and subscribes are always worth it), but meeting him face to face... Dana was never into self-deception and knew well that she was rather hot-tempered: it wasn't hard to make her angry or annoyed. However, the easiness with which Loki had managed to do that beat all records. It wasn't just his looks that got on her nerves but the mere fact of him existing in the same area. And that annoying smirk of his... It had been a while since Dana felt such a strong wish to plunge her claws into one's face.

Among all the living creatures in the multiverse, it just had to be him..., she thought, looking into the next room. Since she had decided to stay on this ship, it would be nice to know what is located where. I get it that this almost-conqueror deserves to be punished for his crimes, but why do I have to suffer as well? That's fuckin' unfair.

Another thing Dana wasn't very happy about was other Asgardians and revolutionaries. She didn't have any prejudices against nations, races, etc., but she didn't like the idea of sharing so little space with so many people. If some strangers were going to constantly walk around in front of her, her scarce storage of patience would not last long. The only good thing was Valkyrie's words about this block not being the main attraction among the rest of the folk, so walking strangers should not be a problem.

Dana had chosen the room at the far end of the pilot block. There were two main reasons for this: first, Brunnhilde's room was close; second, the bathroom was even closer. And that was the bathroom with an actual bath, not just a shower cabin as was the case with another bathroom. Contrary to popular belief, not all felines were against water procedures. Dana, for example, loved to bathe in hot (almost boiling) water with aromatic oils or foam. Which was exactly what she was going to do tomorrow. 

Sweetie could use a bath as well, the woman thought, cringing. Her friend might not have reeked of alcohol - which had been an utter shock to Dana since she couldn't recall the last time she saw her friend sober (if there had ever been such a time) - but she had indeed reeked of sweat, fumes, and death. She definitely needs a long and thorough bath. 

Dana would gladly take her friend to the bathroom this instance if she weren't snoring into her pillow. Brunnhilde had fallen asleep even before her body fully landed on the bed. Dana wasn't feeling sleepy so far - it seemed that her body had mistaken her unconsciousness for proper sleep. So, Dana had decided to explore her new territory. Now was the best time for it anyway, since everyone was asleep and wouldn't interfere. 

Bruce had woken up early in the morning - if "morning" is an appropriate term in the open space. It was quiet because it was too early even for an early morning, so it was too early for anything interesting to happen. Which was a good thing. The fewer events, the less stress - and in the case of Dr. Banner the less stress meant fewer problems not just for himself but for others as well. Turning into the Hulk might not be as disastrous as before, but Bruce still preferred to stay in his mind. Not to mention that he was running out of spare clothes...

Waking up inside the spaceship wasn't common for him, as wasn't seeing stars and other space attractions first thing in the morning. That's why Bruce had chosen the only room with no windows. And with the thickest walls - just in case. Knowing that there were a few hundred demi-gods and armed alien revolutionaries did not contribute to his peace of mind, although a night of good sleep had made everything look a bit better. In a few more days (and nights) all of this would become normal. But now, putting on his clothes and thinking about recent events, Bruce understood that he was missing his dear Earth. And Natasha. But most of all, judging by the sounds from his stomach, he was missing food.

His room was near the kitchen. Some habits just never change no matter what happens to you: when a man finds himself in an unknown place, he tends to stay close to food, just like any animal. It is more of an instinct than a habit actually. Kitchens aren't considered homes' capitals for nothing; they attract people, cats, and dogs the same way gravity attracts stones. And Dr. Banner was no exception to the rule. 

The kitchen was small (for such a big ship), which wasn't surprising since it was located in the pilot block - the smallest block that included a cockpit, five sleeping rooms, one kitchen, a small refrigerator room, a medical room for four patients, a storage room (which should not be opened in any case unless one wished to be buried under the piles of all the forgotten items kept there) and two bathrooms. As if following some unspoken rule, others never visited the block. The Asgardians had divided themselves into groups - family or friends - and spread across the rest of the spaceship, not bothering their king and prince, the Valkyrie, and Bruce, who was one stressful situation away from the Hulk. Maybe, the pilot block was now associated with the former royal palace of Asgard.

In any case, the fewer people, the better, thought Bruce, turning the lights on in the kitchen. There was a big fridge and the door leading to the refrigerator room if the products in the fridge were not enough. Kitchen utensils could be found on many hooks and shelves, a table on the other side of the room was so clean one could mistake it for a mirror, five chairs looked quite comfortable, and an oven definitely needed a manual attached to it because there were way too many buttons on it.

Omelet was not an option anymore. Bruce looked carefully at the buttons in front of him. There were no pictures or any other clues (just some weird symbols or letters he didn't understand anyway), and he definitely wasn't going to try Thor's favorite method when it came to alien technology, that is Let's-Push-This-And-See-What-Happens. Bruce would have to limit himself to vegetables. 

If, of course, there are any vegetables...

Having opened the fridge, Bruce discovered that they didn't, in fact, lack the vegetables but whether they were edible... No, he was sure they were edible for some species, he just wasn't sure humans were one of the said species. Banner would just have to give it a try. If things go south, the Hulk won't take long to wait.

I wonder what's this? Bruce was holding something that looked like a love child of peach and beetroot. The thoughts about the Earth - more specifically, about earth food - filled his head once again. His stomach growled again. It didn't matter to him what that product was for as long as it was edible. If it is not only edible but tasty, Banner will consider it a jackpot.

Having laid the peachy beetroot on the table together with some sort of yellow avocado and purple lettuce, Bruce found a chopping board and a knife; he was about to start making a probably-edible-mix-of-weird-foods-that-looked-less-weird-than-other-weird-foods when he heard an unfamiliar voice coming from behind his back:

"I wouldn't eat that if I were you." 

He turned around and discovered a strange woman standing at the door. The first thing to come to his mind was the certainty about her not being an Asgardian. It wasn't because of her lack of distinctive clothes and hairstyle, not even because of her cat-like yellow eyes. What gave her away was her lack of perfect, one might even say supernal beauty that was a distinctive feature of Asgardians. The woman was if not beautiful (the disgruntled expression didn't do her good, and her cat-like eyes looked a bit weird on her human-like face), then pretty good-looking. And appealing. Sexually appealing. Her sun-kissed skin looked smooth and enticing, her thick brown hair glimmered gold in the bright kitchen lights, her eyes might look a bit weird for a human, but they glittered like the sins of angels, and her curvy body was the downfall of saints. Male ones, anyway.

"Um...", he felt a bit lost under her gaze. His empty stomach did nothing to help his brain work. "Good morning?"

"It entirely depends on whether you are going to eat this," she nodded towards the food. "If you are, then say "goodbye" to good morning, good afternoon, and even good night. These veggies may look the most earth-ish, but they taste awful, not to mention their impact on the human body. Especially that yellow avocado - its juice will eat away your tongue, throat, and stomach."

Bruce looked at the aforementioned "avocado" suspiciously, then turned his gaze to the purple lettuce and peachy beetroot, and eventually began putting the food back into the fridge. It looked like he had no choice but to limit his breakfast to tea. Banner's only hope was that the tea wouldn't make him see any pink animals or make him consider himself some animal...

"Top shelves are berries and fruit," the stranger was suddenly right behind his back. It made him feel warm, but not because of shyness or embarrassment - it felt as if he was standing near a heat radiator even though he was actually staying in front of an open fridge. "Most of them are edible and some are quite tasty; just don't touch those bright yellow round things and red berries. A bit lower, as you must have already figured out, there are veggies; don't eat them raw unless you wish the toilet to become your permanent residence. The next ones are organic liquids; I advise you to limit yourself to dairy products - the ones with pink stickers. Here on the side shelves, you have sources, oils, eggs, and some other stuff you'd better never touch. The bottom shelves are for dried insects, jerky, and mushrooms; you may try to do something with the first, but better leave the mushrooms alone. In the refrigerator section, you'll find semi-finished products; those won't kill you, but their taste and smell are disgusting. Spices and seasonings are in that kitchen cupboard. Tea and all the powders are in the cupboard to the right."

"Oh... um, thanks," Bruce thanked her sincerely and took a few fruits (that reminded him p apples and bananas) from the top shelf. 

The woman nodded, as if in agreement with his choice, and then left his personal space, sitting down on the kitchen island and watching him cutting the fruits. Her attention bothered Banner a little, to be honest, but all in all, he didn't mind. The weird company was better than no company at all. Not to mention that the strange woman seemed to know her way around the alien kitchen and had probably saved him from food poisoning. 

The last thought reminded him that he still didn't know the name of his new companion. And though the latter didn't seem bothered by this fact at all, Bruce didn't feel right about it. So, having cut all the fruit, he addressed both the woman and the problem at hand.

"We haven't been introduced," he said a bit nervously, and extended his hand, having wiped it on his trousers. "I'm Bruce."

"I know," the corner of her lips lifted a little. She accepted the handshake. "I'm Dana."

"Nice to meet you," Banner returned the smile, shaking the woman's hand. Her skin was abnormally warm as if she had just left a hot bath, and her fingers, though fragile looking, had a firm grip. "Are you Sacaarian?"

Her dark eyebrows shot a bit up while her face took a strange interrogative expression. 

"Do I look Sacaarian?"

"Well, you certainly don't look Asgardian," Banner replied. "And it's not like there's a third option here, so..."

Dana's raised her eyebrows even higher. For a second, Bruce felt like a student that had given the wrong answer while answering at the board.

"Really?" she asked in an even voice. "So, you are a Sacaarian as well?"

"No..."

"An Asgardian then?"

"No, I'm-"

"But it's not like we have a third option here," Dana copied his own words, adding some sarcasm.

"I'm a human, actually," he said. "From Earth. It's a planet in-"

"I know who humans are and what the Earth is," the woman interrupted him once again. "I did spend almost all of my life there, after all."

"You..." Bruce's eyes were opened so wide that it seemed they could fall out any moment. "You are from Earth?"

"Bingo. Though I thought you'd figure it out sooner," she pointed at her attire. "It's not like I tried to hide the fact."

True, Bruce thought, the woman was indeed dressed in very human jeans and a very human white tank top with a ginger cat on, which, as Bruce had just noticed, looked suspiciously like Garfield. In fact, if you mentally add some sunglasses to the image in order to hide unusual eyes and change the background to something less... alien, Dana will definitely resemble an ordinary woman from Earth. A rather sarcastic one, he should add.

Although, at the moment, Bruce didn't mind her sarcasm and other flaws - and he was certain there were many of them - because the mere fact that she was an almost-ordinary-human from Earth overshadowed absolutely everything else. The euphoria that had come over him was ten times stronger than the feeling you have when you meet someone who speaks the same language as you in a foreign country.

He knew he probably looked like a complete moron with a foolish smile, but he couldn't help it. The joy and strange relief that he was feeling now were akin to colorful glasses that had skewed Banner's perception of the world around him. For example, in less than a second, Dana had turned from Almost-Complete-Stranger to Almost-A-Relative.

That's why, having ended the miniature "A Man With Wide Eyes And A Moronic Smile", Bruce put out two plates from the cupboard, put fruits in them, mixed, and gave a plate to his new "relative".

Dana gave the plate a long weird look, then gave the same look to Banner, but in the end, she accepted the teat and started eating. Bruce followed. 

They ate in silence which might seem tense if Bruce's perception of reality weren't overrun by the joy of having met a fellow earthling. In Dana's company, he felt even more at ease than he did in Thor's, although he had known the latter for much longer. Perhaps, it had something to do with him seeing Thor as an alien, though a familiar one; while Dana didn't seem alien, though she didn't look like an ordinary human either.

Well, it's not like I'm an ordinary human myself, Bruce thought. And neither was Steve, for that matter. He was looking at Dana from time to time while eating his salad. He did his best to do so discretely, but failed every time, catching contact with those yellow eyes. Either the woman could feel him looking at her or she kept her eye on him the entire time.

Perhaps, those cat-like eyes were a result of some... accident. The same kind Steve and he had experienced.

Suddenly, Banner felt the urge to resume the conversation and get at least some answers. 

"So," he cleared his throat, "you are from Earth?"

Dana looked at him expressively, having raised an eyebrow, and was silent for a few moments. Bruce hoped her silence was due to her still chewing and not the stupidity of his question.

"Obviously," she finally replied.

"And where from exactly?"

"Egypt."

"You're an Egyptian?" he asked again, which gained him another expressive look. "You don't look it."

He could tell by a slight tilt of her head and a change in her gaze that he was expected to explain it further. This woman had quite expressive facial expressions, especially when it came to her eyes.

"Your clothes," he nodded towards her jeans and Garfield tank top. "They're not very Muslim."

"Neither am I Muslim," Dana replied. "And even if I were, I still wouldn't be sitting here wearing burkas or hijab. The dress code is dictated more by the law than religion. If wearing certain clothes is written in the law of a certain Muslim country, then people must obey the said law. However, they are not obligated to follow the law while abroad. Not that they can't dress the same way if they so wish - it's their right - but Muslim women are not limited to the definition of "women in burkas\hijabs". Following such logic, one might as well say that all Christian women should always have their shoulders, knees, and heads covered. The latter, of course, concerns only the Orthodox, but..."

Then followed the lecture dedicated to the place of religion in modern realities, religious stereotypes, and the way they affect people's perceptions and attitudes toward various faiths. While Dana was speaking, Bruce finished his breakfast, washed the dishes, boiled the water in the kettle, and made two cups of tea (he had chosen the one that smelled the most neutral).

"... therefore, judging a person’s religious affiliation solely on the basis of their clothing is a sign of stereotypic thinking - which, in turn, prevents us from perceiving the world as it truly is. Our ability to adequately respond to what's happening is, consequently, out of the question in this case."

"Um..." Bruce was not sure how one should react to the lecture they had never asked for. "I suppose, you're right."

The woman hummed satisfyingly. Seemed like Banner had guessed the correct response.

"And your English is great, no Arabic accent at all," he tried to get the conversation back to its original topic. "I'd dare say you have a strong American accent."

"I think it has something to do with the fact that I live in America," Dana shrugged, finishing the last few bites of her meal. "That is, I used to before Sakaar."

Banner nodded. This he could easily believe: she did look more American than Egyptian.

"What city did you live in on Earth?" he continued his interrogation, siping his tea carefully. The tea tasted... well, it didn't really have a taste. Which, Bruce presumed, was a good thing.

"Seattle."

"Nice city. Been there once," Bruce smiled, recalling the trip. "So, came here, on the ship I mean, from Sacaar?"

"Well, I definitely didn't come here from Asgard," the woman snorted, taking her cup and having the first sip.

"How long were you on Sacaar?"

"Thirty years, give or take."

Bruce froze. He thought he could feel the icon of endless loading inside his head.

I didn't mishear her, right? Did she say thirty years?

He was looking at her now with increased scrutiny. In the vicinity, her eyes looked even more unusual: her irises were a bit bigger than those of a human, covering most of her scleras, and their color was closer to warm golden than yellow. The rest of her, he noted, looked perfectly human-like. Although, Bruce could not guess her age. Dana could be both in her twenties and her forties (provided that she was one of those women that care for themselves very diligently after they turn thirty). There were no wrinkles on her face, safe for those that appeared with certain facial expressions, her skin looked healthy and smooth, her hair was thick and shiny with no greying, and her body, while not possessing the same well-defined muscles as Brunnhilde had, was fit and, let's face it, simply gorgeous.

Bruce decided to seek help from any scientist's best friends: logic and maths. Dana's clothes were definitely fitted for an adult, so she hadn't gotten on Sacaar when she was a child. So, the woman looked forty, top. If she had gotten on Sacaar when she was, let's say, seventeen or in her early twenties, and she had spent about three decades there, then she should be in her late forties or early fifties now...

"Trying to figure out my age?" the woman smirked.

He averted his eyes in embarrassment. His mother had always told him it was impolite to pay close attention to the woman's age. However, as it was in any scientist's case, curiosity had won over manners.

"By my reckoning, you and I should be almost the same age," he smiled a bit uneasily. "But you look much better than me. What's your secret?"

"Healthy eating and good self-care."   

"Seriously though?"

"And who said I was joking?"

"But you..." Bruce hesitated, choosing his next words carefully so that he wouldn't come out like a complete jerk with no manners. "You aren't really an ordinary human, are you?"

"More like I'm not really a human," she said. "My eyes make it rather obvious, don't you think?"

Banner nodded in agreement. Her eyes definitely didn't look human.

"And how long have you been... not really a human?"

"Since birth."

The icon of endless loading appeared inside his head once again. His main theory explaining those unusual eyes (and her unusual aging) was a scientific experiment, the same as it had been with him and Steve Rogers. However, the theory assumed that originally, Dana had been an ordinary human - just like him and Steve. 

If she was born this way, then...

"Were you raised artificially?" his scientific curiosity seemed to have completely suppressed the remains of the good manners and tact that his mother had tried so hard to instill in him.

And, judging by the look on Dana's face, she shared his opinion on that matter.

"Considering that I've had a few witnesses able to confirm a rather big stomach my mother had been walking around with before she gave birth to me, I have enough to call your assumption absolute nonsense."

The mention of her mother and pregnancy gave Bruce another theory.

"Were you experimented on while in your mother's womb?"

"Nobody experimented on me, you crazy scientist," Dana replied. "I told you, I was simply born like this, no things extraordinaire. What you see here," she pointed at her face, "is the result of my mother’s and my father’s genes mixing."

"Was one of your parents experim-"

"Where does this obsession with experiments come from?" the woman interrupted him, looking ready to escort him to the nearest shrink if needed.

"I'm just trying to understand what happened to you," Banner said in his defense. His head was currently absent of any new theories. Fortunately.

"Nothing happened. This is who I am. Nothing has ever happened to me, my parents, or any other relatives for that matter."

"Then how is it that you are not really a human?"

"Because my father was human, and my mother wasn't." 

A pause.

"Meaning?"

"The literal one," Dana shrugged and made another sip from her cup. "My mother's Bastet. You may know her as the Goddess of Cats, although she does possess more other titles than one deity should need. I may not have inherited any of those, but I've got her eyes."

Another pause. This time a longer one.

"You are the daughter of the Egyptian goddess?" Bruce decided to clarify for some reason.

"And you should seriously consider acquiring a hearing aid since you don't trust your own ears so much."

"And your father?"

"What about him?" the woman frowned in confusion.

"Who's he?"

"A human, I've told you."

"No, I mean, what is he like?"

"Fuck if I know," Dana shrugged indifferently. "Mom met him at one of the humans' parties she decided to see for some reason. By the way, that is where I was conceived - at the party, not in some lab from your fantasies. Since my mom isn't the kind of woman that likes to "know her partners better" before fucking them, all I know about my daddy dearest is that he was at that party, he was interesting enough to catch my mother's attention, and he probably had brown hair, because I definitely haven't got mine from my mommy."

There was another pause. Bruce didn't want to develop the topic of fathers and children, but other questions refused to come to his head. Knowing that he was having breakfast with a real demi-goddess was rather overwhelming. 

Banner frowned. Demi-goddess... It wasn't the word he would associate with the woman sitting on the kitchen island in jeans and a tank top with a print of a cartoon ginger cat. Thor and Loki were other cases. They might not have any distinctive differences from humans like big cat-like eyes, but it was easy to believe in their divinity: their clothes, their perfect appearance, the way they behave, even the way they talk - everything was screaming I-Am-More-Than-Human, giving away their origins.

In Dana's case, Bruce would rather believe she was just a fan of colored lenses than that she was closely related to literal gods.

While Banner was busy with comparative analysis of all the deities and demi-deities he knew, his new acquaintance had already finished her tea and washed the cup, and was now on her way to the doors.

"Where are you going?" he reemerged from his thoughts and looked at the leaving woman.

"To my place," she replied, looking over her shoulder. "Since I decided to stay on this ship, I need to organize my stuff in my room. And I also need to find bath foams in my bag."

"Oh. Okay then," he suddenly felt awkward again. Ending conversations was never a strong side of his. "It was nice to meet you. Really. I've got no idea how good it feels to meet someone from the same planet as you. Even though this someone is... ahem... not exactly the same species as you."

"The feeling is mutual, Doctor Banner."

His eyes had followed her to the doors before he recalled he still had tea to finish. The first sip made him frown. The tea hadn't tasted nice in its hot state, but now being cold it reminded lemon and onion juice diluted with water.

Bruce looked at the packet from which he had taken the tea and made sure that its image had been imprinted in his memory down to the smallest details. He is never coming anywhere near this shit again.  

Chapter Text

Life on the spaceship differed greatly from life in the Asgardian palace or Grandmaster's apartments. Firstly, the living space was significantly smaller, and the lack of gravity and oxygen in the vastness of space excluded the possibility of leaving this very living space. Secondly, the limited space led to more frequent and close contact with other passengers, such as eating together. Not that Loki and Thor never crossed paths with anyone in Asgard during breakfast, lunch, dinner, or snacks, but usually these crossings were limited to relatives or close friends (and also took place in the huge dining hall at the long table).

Now, Loki was sitting it the tiny (by Asgardian standards) kitchen at an even tinier (by the same standards) table, in the company of his older brother, a Valkyrie who disliked him, and an avenger whose green alter ego had once sealed the God of Lies into a concrete floor.

Well, at least, the most annoying person was missing.

"You want me to make you some too, Bruce?" asked Thor, standing near the frying pan with something that Loki would have never ever dared to try, not to mention cooking.

Banner, judging by the expression on his face, shared the opinion.

"No, thank you, I've already had breakfast," he replied.

"As you say," the elder Odinson shrugged and then addressed the Valkyrie with the same question. "And you?"

"And I have a special diet," she said, showing a carton box covered in thin ice. "It's called "Fast food rocks"."

Loki had no idea what fast food was; however, when Brunnhilde opened the box, he understood that he'd rather eat what his brother was cooking now than this. Inside the box, there was something frozen, which later was sent to the device that, as he understood, was meant to heat cold food. 

Perhaps, the only positive thing about all this kitchen "togetherness" was the possibility to know each other better (their food taste included). For example, Loki had had no idea Thor could cook before. He wasn't sure he had ever seen him in the kitchen near the oven - probably because he had never been there either.

This observation seemed to have surprised not him alone.

"When did the crown princes and kings of Asgard learn such plebeian work as cooking?" asked Brunnhilde, pulling out a heated plate of her half-cooked food. They looked better hot than they did as ice stones, but not good enough for the God of Lies to change his mind.

"Oh, I've learned this in Midgard," Thor replied. His face took a nostalgic expression, which meant the story was not over yet. "When father banished me from Asgard to Midgard, I met Jane - my girlfriend... Well, she was;t my girlfriend when she hit me with a car, it happened after... Not because she hit me with the car that time... or the next time... because we knew each other better when we lived together. I know it's uncommon to live together before the courting - it's usually vice versa, but back then I had no place to live in, so it had to be like that... Not that I didn't try to court her  - Darcy told me Midgardian women liked men who cook them breakfast, so I learned a few recipes... She must have truly liked my mac'n'cheese because two days after she kissed me and became my girlfriend... Not that she said she had become my girlfriend - and I didn't ask her then since I was in a hurry to get back to Asgard after I had found out Loki had almost killed me and my friends - but there was an understanding between us... Then, of course, we had to keep a long-distance relationship because the Bifrost...

Loki rolled his eyes. His brother had a talent for inspiring speeches (maybe not the most beautiful ones, but quite constructive) - a well-known fact, but when it came to Jane... Thor simply voiced every thought that came into his head, and there were a lot of thoughts about this woman in his head. Loki didn't know what was so astonishing about that Midgardian and didn't really want to know, so he listened half-heartedly. Dr. Banner had chosen a similar strategy, judging by his absent look at the wall clock, and the Valkyrie had started eating her breakfast.

Unfortunately, the absence of an appreciative and attentive audience did nothing to help the tragic love story come to a speedy conclusion.

"...And then she... I mean, we dumped each other," Thor went on. By this moment, his dreamy smile had disappeared. "That was a completely mutual decision. We decided that would be for the best. For us. None of us got upset. Not at all. Not even a tiny bit. Definitely. That was absolutely the most rational decision that we made togeth-"

"We got it," Brunnhilde interrupted him. She wasn't used to such monologues. "Next time I ask you a question that is in any way related to the subject of your ex-girlfriend, just ignore me. The only thing I hate more than dramatic stories is dramatic love stories. I can already feel myself getting nauseous."

"That's 'cause you're eating junk again, sweetie."

Loki mentally cursed as he heard her voice behind him. The bitch had a knack for sneaking around quietly, he had to admit that.

He heard the Valkyrie mutter quietly to herself.

"I thought you'd be asleep before lunch," she muttered, then turned to Banner. "Bruce, meet-"

"Dana. Yes, I know," he finished for her, then turned to the woman with some awkwardness. "Good morning again. Tea?"

Bruce was clearly trying to look her in the eye, not lower, though he was having a hard time doing so: it was hard to maintain eye contact with a woman dressed in a fluffy lavender towel that didn't even reach her knees. Thor chose a different strategy: he didn't look up at all, concentrating on his plate.

"Perhaps later, Doctor," the woman said in a surprisingly calm and almost affectionate voice. Her face didn't show her usual displeasure, either. "I have other plans right now."

"We can tell," Loki took a deliberately slow look at her from head to toe; unlike his brother and Bruce, he wasn't uncomfortable with the sight of an inappropriately dressed woman (mostly because he wasn't interested in her as a woman). "Although, you're in the wrong room, kitten. The bathroom is right down the hall."

The look she gave him was the kind of look that could boil water in a kettle - a stark contrast to the way she'd looked at Dr. Banner. Pissing her off was fast becoming his new hobby.

"Oh, I'm well aware of that, baby boy," she gritted her teeth and glared at his cup. "Drink your tea while it's still hot, and keep quiet until someone asks for your opinion."

"No one asked for your opinion either, yet your mouth won't shut for some reason. Much to my dismay."

"Awesome. I couldn't bear to see you happy. I'll make sure to put enough effort into making your stay here miserable."

"Likewise, bitch."

Loki theatrically saluted her with his cup, grinning and happy to have the last word. The woman kept her displeased eyes on him as he brought the cup to his lips for a sip...

A sip of boiling water, as it turned out a second later.

Loki dropped the cup, spilling the hot tea all over the table, and clutched his hands to his throat, mentally berating his own body (and his long lessons in etiquette) for choosing to swallow the scalding liquid rather than spit it out. It felt like a flame had ignited on his tongue, which slowly traveled down his throat to his stomach. He could even feel the Jotun magic within him (which he neither recognized nor used) drastically lowering his body temperature, trying to deal with the burn that way. It wasn't working well.

"Too hot?" the yellow-eyed vixen asked. Her voice was as innocent as Surtur's.

I'll kill you, Loki wanted to say, but could only stare at her angrily. His tongue ached even when it was still, so speaking was out of the question. The damn bitch was staring back at him with so much smugness that there was no doubt in anyone's mind that it was her doing. Apparently, her abilities weren't limited to turning into a cat.

"And seriously, why are you here now instead of soaking in the bath, where you're obviously heading?" the Valkyrie asked, managing to speak and chew at the same time so that all the food stayed in her mouth and her speech was clear and understandable. Volstagg would probably be jealous of such a skill if he weren't dead. "Although, it still bugs me that you're up this early, considering what time we went to bed last night."

"Chew first, then talk," she said in the tone of a stern governess. "And speak for yourself, sweetie: I haven't slept a wink since last night."

"Then why don't you hold off on the water? I don't want my friend to fall asleep in the bathtub and drown herself in it: that would be a stupid death. Besides, after recent events, I have a very negative feeling about corpses."

"And you're gonna make sure that doesn't happen. Plus, we can scratch each other's back," she paused for a moment, thinking. "Wait. Are you saying that before the recent events, you had positive feelings about corpses?"

"Before recent events, I had no feelings about corpses whatsoever."

"Could you two, perhaps, discuss it somewhere else?" Thor joined the conversation. "Somewhere where nobody is eating, for example."

"Could you, perhaps, eat somewhere else, Goldilocks?" the bitch's reply was instant, her glare eloquent enough to make the thunderer shudder. "I don't stick my nose into your plate, and you don't get to stick yours into my conversation, otherwise your nose will share the fate of your brother's tongue. Got it?"

Thor nodded fast, stealing a glance towards Loki, whose face was still showing discomfort from the burn.

The woman smirked with the corner of her lips, clearly pleased with his answer.

"Good boy. Eat your..." she looked down at his plate, which made her face take a thoughtful expression, "...whatever it is."

He complied immediately, still silent, not wishing to give the woman an excuse to carry out the threat. However, Thor still blew on each bite of food thoroughly before sending it into his mouth. Just in case.

Meanwhile, the woman had turned her attention fully to the original reason for her appearance here.

"Okay, sweetie, let's go. The bath should be at least half full by now."

"I haven't finished yet," the Valkyrie replied, sending another bite of fast food into her mouth.

Loki was ready to reconsider his opinion of the said fast food, if only because of the way the bitch's face crinkled at the sight of the contents of her friend's plate.

"And you shouldn't. Throw it to other garbage, I'll cook you something healthy when we're done."

"how about you don't stick your nose into my plate, too?" the Valkyrie asked without much hope in her voice.

"The fact that I've made peace with your choice to ruin your won liver doesn't mean I'm gonna quietly watch you ruining your stomach as well. Choose one organ, sweetie, 'cause I'm not gonna drag you from one hospital ward to another for a few hundred years."

"Of course not, you won't have enough time between your visits to a shrink anyway."

Loki had no idea who shrinks were, but he intuited that the word had a negative meaning, so the fact that it was addressed to the person who was annoying him made him feel better.

"You need a shrink?" Banner inquired. In his eyes, there was a surprise and, unexpectedly, understanding.

"No," the woman replied.

"Not yet," Brunnhilde corrected her.

The bitch rolled her eyes but didn't deny her forend's words further.

"Let's get into the bathroom, sweetie, before the water's cold. We can continue our conversation there. I've come up with a lot of questions overnight."

"You go ahead, I'll join you when the water's cooled down. Not everyone likes to bathe in boiling water."

"Suit yourself," she shrugged and turned toward the exit.

"Want some wine and fruit?" the Valkyrie asked after her. "I'm certainly gonna take a few bottles for myself because I don't have the stamina to answer all your questions sober."

The woman slowed down and frowned thoughtfully.

"What kind of wine? Dry?"

"Sweet as honey and with such alcohol content it could be easily mistaken for grape juice," Brunnhilde's face took on the same sour expression as her friend's face at the sight of fast food. "I still don't get why you keep calling this sweetened water wine. You'd have to drink six barrels just to get a little tipsy."

"Not everyone likes to drink alcohol for the sake of getting wasted," the bitch replied. "Some appreciate alcohol for its taste. Wine, for instance, complements the flavor of fruit, and if you add apple juice, orange, and spices to it and put it on the fire..." 

"No," the Valkyrie interrupted her. She had a grimace of horror or indignation on her face. "I won't let you mock the drink, no matter how weak it is. Don't even think about making port wine from it, Dana."

"You know, as a centuries-old alcoholic, you should remember the difference between port wine and mulled wine."

"You know what I meant."

"Yeah, yeah, don't do anything to the drink that changes its flavor or, heaven forbid, lowers the alcohol content, because you don't care what you drink, as long as you get wasted and ruin your liver as fast as possible."

"That's right," the Valkyrie smiled. "See you in the bathroom?"

"Don't drink all the wine on your way there."

"Don't fall asleep while you're waiting for me."

"Don't keep me waiting too long."

When the most annoying woman in the universe finally left their company, a tense atmosphere hung in the kitchen. Tense for the Valkyrie, first and foremost. Everyone's attention (not counting Thor, of course, who was still focused on the contents of his plate) was directed at her. Neither Loki nor Banner said a word to her, but they didn't need to - their silence was quite eloquent.

"What?" she asked irritably, unable to withstand the silent pressure.

"You and Dana..." Banner began, not too confidently. "You seem to be good friends."

"We've been putting up with each other for over three decades now - you get attached to a person over that long," she shrugged. "When did you befriend her, I wonder?"

Loki was also interested in this question. What had Bruce Banner done earlier that morning that he was the only one who hadn't gotten any negative attention from that bitch?

"I think "befriend" is a bit of a stretch. We just had a nice chat over breakfast," he suddenly took on a somewhat embarrassed look. "And she may have saved me from food poisoning."

"A nice chat?" Loki raised his voice for the first time since he'd burned his tongue. He could hardly imagine, let alone believe what he was saying. "With her?"

"Well, yes. She was the one doing most of the talking, though..."

Well, that is something I can easily believe, Loki thought. This woman obviously liked the sound of her own voice.

"... But that's fine. I had a lot of questions anyway. Besides, I was so happy at that moment that I was willing to listen to anything from her, even insults."

.Banner immediately met two and a half pairs of eyes staring at him with a mute question.

"What?" he stared back at them. "I've been to three planets - that's twice the amount I'd planned to visit in my lifetime - and now I'm out in outer space surrounded by about a thousand gods and aliens, which is pretty stressful..."

"You've already met both back in New York, therefore the current situation shouldn't affect you this much," said Loki for some reason. He wasn't sure if he intended to cheer the Avenger up or pull his leg a little.

"Firstly,

I spent most of my time in New York in the back of my own mind, and I don't remember most of what happened then," his disgruntled look made God realize that the scientist took his remark as a taunt. "Secondly, I was on my own planet, in my own country, surrounded by members of my own species, some of whom I knew quite well, which is strikingly different from my current situation. Not to mention the whole experience was quite traumatizing, to be honest. So, yeah - I'm insanely happy to have met another human on this ship, albeit of semi-divine origin."

Loki was glad he didn't have anything in his mouth at that moment, otherwise, it would have immediately stuck in his throat from the shock. He looked at the Valkyrie, hoping to see a similar emotion on her face, but no: she sat there with the same disgruntled expression that she had at the beginning of their conversation. Thor alone showed similar feelings, slightly choking on his breakfast in surprise.

"Are you saying," Loki began slowly, addressing either Banner or the Valkyrie, "that that bitch is related to the gods?"

"To the gods of Ancient Egypt, yes," Brunnhilde answered him in an even tone. "I had about the same face when I found out as you do now, Lackey."

Loki

had never met the ancient Egyptian gods, but he suspected that they, like other species called gods, were not in the habit of wearing Midgardian rags (and not even of the best quality), acting like a real bitch to their equal species (read: other gods) while showing favor to species that are much lower on the hierarchy (read: Midgardians and other creatures with a lifespan of less than a few millennia).

There was no way she could be directly related to the ancient Egyptian gods, Loki concluded to himself. This woman's appearance and behavior are more like something between a Midgardian and a wild animal.

"She may well take those words as a compliment, Lackey, so think of another way to insult her," the Valkyrie grinned.

He said it out loud and didn't even notice. Great.

"I take it you and Dana," Banner addressed Loki this time, "didn't get along very well?"

"'Didn't get along very well' is the understatement of the century," the God of Lies answered him.

"Oh yes," Brunnhilde agreed with him. She looked much more cheerful now than she had when their conversation had started. "Dana can't stand him. What she said to me yesterday... Oh, yes! "That bastard pisses me off."

"Tell that bitch that her feelings are completely mutual."

"Tell her yourself the next time you two decide to have a wit contest," she told him, then switched her attention to Bruce. "So, how did you make Dana like you from the first sight?"

"You all make it sound like she's not a human but some termagant," Dr. Banner said in a strange tone of voice.

"I don't know if "termagant" is the right word for it 'cause I have no idea what it means, but as you said yourself, Dana is not a human, so..."

"Well, to me, she seems more like a human than... anyone else," Bruce replied, albeit in a less than confident voice. "I don't know how you managed to become sworn enemies from day one. When I met her this morning, everything was... okay. We had a nice chat..."

"About what?"

"Oh, just general stuff," he shrugged. "First she gave me a lecture about the food in our refrigerator, then I asked her a couple of questions, which she answered quite patiently. At one point we broached the subject of religion and she gave me another lecture. Then I started asking questions again about her life on Earth, which then led to a little story about her mother and wha-"

"Say no more," Brunnhilde interrupted him. The puzzle had come together. Dana considers anyone who can obediently listen to her for at least half an hour to be a pleasant conversationalist, and if that "anyone" also asks questions, prolonging the lecture, he gets promoted to the list of acquaintances.

"Why am I not surprised?" Loki said, rolling his eyes theatrically. "The bitch is clearly in love with her voice."

"You're one to talk," grumbled Thor, who had managed to finish his breakfast while they were talking.

The God of Lies looked at him with a frown.

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"That there are at least two people on this ship who like to shoot the breeze," the Valkyrie answered for Thor and shoved him in the ribs. "I can't wait for you two to confront each other. What a show it's going to be."

"If it brings you so much pleasure, why did you join my brother in playing the role of conflict mediator yesterday?"

"Because I enjoy watching Dana use her tongue, not her claws and other tools. And your argument last night had a good chance of turning into a fight."

"And what would have been the outcome?" Loki couldn't help but wonder.

She thought (and seemed to have completely forgotten about the rest of her breakfast), seriously considering the options of a hypothetical fight.

"Well, given the difference in physical strength and fighting skills, Dana would have clearly come out of the fight with multiple bruises and, most likely, several fractures; maybe even internal bleeding and a serious concussion. Or she would've been lying passed out and dying if the fight hadn't been stopped in time."

Loki couldn't hold back a smug grin. It was good to know that this bitch was only good for throwing sarcastic comments and was little better than a Midgardian in actual combat.

"However," the Valkyrie continued, "given the difference in magical abilities, you wouldn't have lasted very long, Lackey. About five minutes, maybe ten, provided she'd had part of her brain shut down from anger."

The smirk immediately disappeared, giving way to disgruntled lips and frowning eyebrows. Along with the displeasure, however, there was another feeling present in Loki: curiosity.

"What kind of magical abilities are we talking about?"

This time it was Brunnhilde who smirked. Were that botch still here, she would be proud of such a quality parody of her friend's facial expression.

"Piss her off enough, Lackey, and find it out yourself. I'd love to see you get your ass kicked, too," she said, standing up from the table and tossing her plate of breakfast into the trash. "Before that happens, I'm gonna go find a suitable drink for my interrogation. See you later."

Even as the two least familiar figures left the room, the situation didn't get any better: the atmosphere was still not conducive to heart-to-heart conversation (or any normal interaction). Loki had nothing else to talk about, Thor was still focused on his breakfast, and Dr. Banner... why he was still here Loki had no idea.

"You know," his brother suddenly turned to him, "between you and me, I think the Valkyrie doesn't like you very much."

"No way," Bruce muttered to himself.

Loki did not see fit to comment on the statement. He might have called it the understatement of the century if the title hadn't already been taken up by the phrase "didn't get along very well" a few minutes earlier.

Chapter Text

"Dana?"

"Mm?"

"A hot bath and some wine to start the day is just amazing."

"Mh.

Although there was only one bathtub in the pilot block, it was spacious enough that half the people living there could use it at the same time, which is what Brunhilde and Dana were doing at the moment. By the time the Valkyrie joined her friend with two bottles of wine (one of which, in her humble opinion, could easily have been replaced with a bottle of slightly fermented grape juice and no one would have noticed the difference in strength), Dana was already half asleep, lulled to sleep by the dim lighting, the hot humid air and the quiet music that the Asgardian had heard more than once during their stay together.

The fact that Dana was not subject to all the nonsense about cats' dislike of water, the Valkyrie realized immediately after receiving their first water bill together. At the time, they tried to avoid each other, which resulted in Brunhilde spending as much time as possible in her room (and the only bedroom) and Dana - relaxing in the bathroom. This strategy had proven to be not only unworkable but also very costly.

"We should do it more often"

"Mh."

The Valkyrie herself had never considered herself to be the type of person who perceived water procedures not as a necessity, but as a ritual, which not only lasted several hours, but also required prior preparation in the form of aromatic oils, foam, or other additives, appropriate music, and sometimes even drinks and snacks. However, even she couldn't help but admit that from time to time such rituals could be a very good way to spend a few hours of leisure time.

"Would you rather I shut up?"

"Mh."

"Alright."

"Mh."

As for the woman who'd previously planned to give her a vigorous interrogation in the bathroom, Dana was rather taciturn, but Brunhilde wasn't going to broach the subject - such good fortune doesn't come along very often. Instead, the Valkyrie sipped some more of her wine (straight from the bottle), leaned back against the side of the tub, and concentrated on the music. The melody was quiet, unobtrusive, and wordless. It made her smile. Alltongue, of course, was good at dealing with the problem of language barriers both spoken and written, instantly translating all words into Asgardian, and Asgardian into the language of the interlocutor. However, it also destroyed all rhyme in non-Asgardian songs, turning foreign music into a set of unrhyming words to accompany it, which spoiled all listening pleasure. When Dana learned of this, she began to favor what in Midgard is called "instrumental music" in the presence of her friend. A small thing, but pleasant.

But no matter how pleasant the melodies and their silence were, after four musical compositions and eight sips of wine, the Valkyrie was chattering again.

"That's a nice tongue burn you gave Lackey."

"Mh."

"I also noticed that you got along well with Bruce."

"Mh."

"Is that because he let you give him a few lectures and still kept asking questions?"

"Mh."

That "mh" was starting to annoy her. Usually, Dana was a talker, but now she couldn't get a word out of her. And Brunnhilde had already set her mood for an interrogation.

"Are you going to ask your questions?"

"Mh."

"Well?"

In response to her remark, Dana only opened one eye and arched her eyebrows questioningly, as if she didn't know what she was talking about. That pissed the Valkyrie off even more than the 'mh'.

"Are you mocking me?"

"Mh."

"Dana!"

The damn bitch, who for some reason was still her best friend, laughed and (for the first time) reached for her bottle of wine and then her mug (the Valkyrie couldn't find glasses) while Brunnhilde gave her a disgruntled look, the same one Dana herself used to look at the idiots (read: most people) around her.

"Come on, sweetie," the woman finally said. "I didn't even do anything."

"Yeah, and you didn't say anything either," the Valkyrie replied dryly.

"You're the one constantly complaining that I never shut up," she shrugged and took a sip of wine from her cup. "Mmm. What a delicate bouquet; it would go well with cheese. Are you sure you don't want to try it?"

"If I wanted a refreshment, I would have grabbed myself a juice. You need to be introduced to stronger wines."

"They're bitter," Dana wrinkled her nose. "I hate bitterness, you know that."

"But you put enough pepper in your dishes."

"You're confusing bitterness with spiciness. Again."

"I like neither," Brunhilde shrugged, bringing the bottle to her mouth again.

Her friend arched an eyebrow again, looking expressively at the bottle.

"In food," the Valkyrie clarified. "When it comes to drinking, my tastes aren't that picky."

"Yeah, I'm aware of that. You can drink antiseptic in a certain condition."

Brunhilde rolled her eyes.

"One time,' she said. "It was just one time."

"Which is already more than enough," Dana grinned again. She was clearly amused by the situation.

"Are you going to remind me of this for the rest of my life?"

"Of course. I have to make sure you don't forget about it."

"As is that's possible to forget..." the Valkyrie muttered. "I spent three days trying to get rid of the feeling that my mouth had been disinfected and then covered with cherry flavoring."

"Of all your hangovers, that one smelled the most pleasant," her friend commented. "And since you brought up the subject of the end of your life, let's start our interrogation with that. Why the hell did you go to Asgard?"

"Didn't we clear that up yesterday?"

"No, yesterday we clarified what happened, not why," the woman replied. "I know you're planning to die in some battle mess so your soul can get a pass to Valhalla, but I thought you promised me you wouldn't rush this one-way trip."

"You make it sound like I was heading straight to my death..." Brunhilde tried to joke but was immediately interrupted.

"Because that's exactly what you bloody did. So I ask you again, sweetie: what the hell? And don't even try saying some shit about patriotism or sense of duty - we both know that you drowned both of them in alcohol a long time ago."

Valkyrie sipped more wine, almost emptying the bottle. Some part of her was beginning to wish she had let her friend continue to be silent and "mh" every question because what she was about to say sounded silly and childish even in her head.

She picked up the bottle again and finished its contents in two gulps.

"I wanted revenge," Brunhilde shrugged her shoulders. "And before you start lecturing me, I didn't jump into it when Thor mentioned Hela; I turned him down at first. But then that shit just wouldn't get out of my head all day, and then Lackey literally got into my head and brought out a particularly unpleasant memory on top of it."

"He did what?!" Dana was outraged, immediately straightening her back and splashing some of the water.

"He got inside my head, or something like that," the Asgardian repeated nonchalantly, and before her friend could get indignant again, she continued: "Don't get so worked up, I'm fine. The "invasion" lasted only a few seconds, after which I punched his aristocratic face so hard he was knocked out for several hours."

"Hmm..." the woman stretched out. "So that's the "fainting spell" we were talking about yesterday. And yet, to invade another person's mind and memories without permission... The audacity of it!"

"Seriously, m'friend, chill out. He didn't get into your head, he got into mine, and I showed him how much I didn't care for it."

"If that insolent bastard had tried to get in my head, I wouldn't have let him go with just a punch in the nose and a fainting spell."

"I don't doubt that."

The bathroom was silent again for a while, broken only by a melody that Brunhilde thought she had heard in one of the movies they had watched together. She gazed into her friend's face, trying to make out what she was feeling and thinking. Emotions were easy enough: Dana had never been good at hiding them. Valkyrie could see skepticism, echoes of indignation, and thoughtfulness. Too bad reading her thoughts wasn't as easy.

"I know you probably don't have the best opinion of Asgard and its people, partly because of all the stories I've told you before," Brünnhilde began, feeling her friend's knee under the water. "But I think most of what I once told you is no longer relevant. I know you're not exactly thrilled with the company here, especially the two who interrupted your blackout, but it's not like they're as crazy as their sister, even if the younger one does look like the male version of her."

Dana pursed her lips in response. Anger flashed in her eyes.

"Do you recall the one time I told you about New York?"

"New York is..." She tried to jog her memory, which had already relaxed after the bottle of wine. "Is it somewhere in the Divided States?"

"The United States, but that's beside the point. I'm more interested in whether you remember what happened there in 2012," after an eloquent pause on her friend's part, Dana added: "I showed you a bunch of videos on the computer. One of them amused you so much that we watched it ten times first."

Something clicked in her memory.

"Oh yes!" she exclaimed happily. "That's the one where the Hulk smashes someone... wait a minute," something else clicked in her head. Her eyes rounded. "That was..."

"Yeah, that's the one," Dana confirmed her guess. "Do you remember now?"

"Oh, I do," the Valkyrie muttered. "Now I see why Lackey pisses you off so much. Maybe, looks aren't all that he shares with his crazy sister."

"He's racist and chauvinistic, not to mention he invades people's minds without permission. Don't even ask me to try to get along with him, sweetie."

"Oh Norns, no," her friend immediately assured her. "I wasn't going to suggest it before. I just didn't want you to see everyone on this ship through the lens of what I've told you about Asgard."

"As if anyone's words could affect my attitude toward others," the woman replied, and Brunnhilde could have sworn she caught a tiny twinge of disappointment in her voice. "My dislike of people is based solely on their personalities."

"And what are the results of your preliminary analysis of our traveling companions' personalities?

Dana suddenly stopped frowning and instead looked at her friend with a suspicious squint, as if trying to look into her soul. Normally such a stare from her friend would have made Brunnhilde feel very uncomfortable, but the dim lighting, quiet music, hot bath and an atmosphere that would otherwise be considered romantic blurred the line between a suspicious squint and languidly covered eyes, making the yellow-eyed woman's scrutiny much less intimidating.

"Why do you suddenly want to know what I think of them?" Dana asked, keeping her eyes on her. "Don't tell me, sweetie, that you've got a crush on one of them and you're trying to see if I'll approve of your choice."

"Nonsense!" Valkyrie was glad that she was not using the bottle at that moment, otherwise the wine would have gone not into her stomach, but directly into the face of her friend sitting across from her. "And why would I want your approval of my romantic interests, which I definitely don't have?"

"Because you've been asking me what I think about the people you've tried to have affairs with, sweetie, and even though it's been double-digit years since your last relationship, I don't think that's changed," she said, taking another sip of wine and staring thoughtfully at the ceiling. "It's definitely not Mr. "I-Like-To-Invade-Other-People's-Monds": you can't stand him, which is not surprising, and he's not your type, and neither is Dr. Banner..."

"And what is my type, I wonder?" the Valkyrie grumbled unhappily. "Why don't you enlighten me? Because I haven't been aware there's a specific type of people I'm attracted to."

"Shall I give you information for men and women in general, or would you rather I gave you characteristics for each sex separately?"

Brunnhilde blinked. Was she mocking her?

"You made three lists regarding my preferences in partners? " she asked in shock. "Have you been spying on whom I spend my time with and how I spend my time?"

" 'Spying' is too strong a word," Dana took another sip of her wine. "It's just that you and your... temporary romantic interests were often in my line of sight and hearing."

"And that was just a coincidence, of course?" the questioning tone, if there was any in that sentence, was completely overridden by sarcasm.

"Of course it was," the woman shrugged. "So, what is it, sweetie? Which of your types you anna hear about?"

The Valkyrie wondered if she wanted to pursue the topic further. Romantic relations and everything connected with them was a sore subject, which she didn't like to touch very much, but she was still interested to hear what "types" her friend had noticed.

"Let's go with the female," she finally decided.

"Slender, light-skinned, with long hair of blond or ginger color. Height and eye color are not important. In clothes, you prefer dresses: long, but not too modest, preferably made of light fabric - it creates a graceful and somewhat bohemian feminine image, which is the most attractive to you, even though it is completely opposite to yours."

Brunnhilde sat there silently flapping her eyes, a little shocked. All that was missing was an open mouth and the sound of crickets in the background (she and Dana had watched enough movies for the Valkyrie to be imbued with certain clichés). Her fried had hit the bullseye.

"Am I right, sweetie?" the woman asked or stated, grinning. "This, by the way, partially explains why there has never been a spark between you and me for so many years."

It's hard to make a spark with a friend whom you think of as a sister and sometimes - a mother, the Valkyrie added to herself.

"Of course," she nodded in agreement. "Your lousy temper has nothing to do with it, you're just not my type."

"And yet you keep staring at me every time you see me naked."

"Anyone with seeing eyes and a working libido will stare at you if you're naked, no matter what their 'type' is," the Valkyrie grinned and deliberately slowed her gaze over her friend's body. "Even with your temper, which, again, is just terrible."

"You're used to it," Dana shrugged. "You don't even complain much anymore."

"The sacrifices we make for our besties. Besides, alcohol helps a lot," she reached for a new batch of wine when she remembered that she'd just finished the rest. "Why don't you share a bottle with your bestie, by the way?"

"Why don't you have some water instead? Especially since, according to your own words, it contains just a tiny bit less alcohol than my wine."

"First of all, I didn't compare your wine to water, I compared it to juice. And secondly, it's my wine."

"Which you brought me," Dana added.

"Don't get smart on me," the Valkyrie replied, stepping forward and reaching for the bottle. "You're not gonna drink more than two cups anyway, so don't hog the booze, especially when someone else needs it more."

"Sweetie, you're the last person on this ship who needs a drink."

"I have an alcohol addiction..."

"I'm glad you admit it. Admitting a problem is the first step to solving it..."

"An alcohol addiction that I chose not to get rid of, so--"

"Though you should've."

"It was my well-thought decision as a sane adult..."

"I would argue about both adjectives..."

"Which should have nothing to do with you..."

"Right now it's about my wine."

"Which you're not gonna finish, so--"

"I was gonna use it to make dinner."

"Who in their right mind uses alcohol in cooking?!"

"Anyone who cares about the flavor of the food they're cooking."

Brunnhilde snorted unhappily and returned to her end of the tub, leaning back against the edge. Even if Dana had not originally planned to use wine in the process of preparing tonight's dinner (and she was sure that her friend had no such plans), she would do it now just out of spite - just to piss her off a little. Norns knew this woman knew very well how much the Valkyrie was pissed off by the misuse of alcohol (misuse of alcohol in her understanding was any use of alcohol in which the drink lost its strength and did not enter her stomach through the mouth).

"You don't have to put booze in your food," Brunnhilde said grumpily, casting resentful glances at her friend and the bottle beside her.

"Some recipes require it," Dana replied without remorse or pity. "Now, do you want to hear what type of men you prefer?"

"Long-haired and wearing a bohemian dress?"

"Really?" with genuine curiosity asked the woman.

"Norn, of course not!"

"Are you sure?" she continued. "I really haven't been following you everywhere, and you do get drunk quite often..."

"No amount of booze will ever make me want to fuck a man in a dress," the Valkyrie assured her. "Even if my libido suddenly wakes up and he's the only option."

"So, you have nothing against long hair?"

"You tell me, m'friend. You're the one who's been detailing my type."

"I haven't noticed you favoring men with a certain type of hair," Dana replied. "You were more interested in broad shoulders and strong arms. And preferably all wrapped up in a uniform."

Oh yes, she liked men in uniform. Something about them was just... something. Before she'd gotten the idea of joining Valkyrior, Brunhilde had wanted to join the ranks of the Einherians so that she could always enjoy the sight of warriors in fine form (literally and figuratively speaking).

"And if you take away the clothing requirements, there's at least one man on this ship who fits your type," Dana continued. "So, I wanna know, sweetie, if you have any plans of romantic or just intimate nature concerning our tall, broad-shouldered, and very muscular golden-haired Asgardian. And feel free to tell the truth. I won't judge, you know that."

"Firstly, I barely know him."

"Everyone goes through that stage, sweetie. That's called meeting someone new."

"And secondly," said the Valkyrie a little louder than she should have, "he looks like a puppy... what are those big-eared dogs with sad eyes and a wagging tail called?

"Labradors," the woman prompted.

"That's right. A big labrador puppy. LabraThor. You don't date puppies."

"Mh," Dana mumbled in agreement. "You play with puppies, pet them, hug, kiss..."

"When was the last time you had sex?" the Valkyrie stopped her further flow.

"A couple of months ago."

"Yeah," Brunhilde said in a knowing tone. Another puzzle had been put together. "Now I see where this is coming from. How did you last so long? Or did you spend the last couple of months on some deserted asteroid?"

"I was busy."

"Busy doing what?"

"Things."

"Can you at least tell me where you were for the last two years?"

"Not on Sakaar."

"Are you mocking me again?"

"A little."

"Is it a secret?" Brunnhilde asked.

"No," Dana shrugged. "I just don't wanna talk about it yet."

"Why not? Did you run into some problems?"

"More like they ran into me."

Now the Valkyrie looked at her friend with genuine concern. Despite her temper, Dana was hardly a troublemaker. On the contrary, she preferred to stay out of trouble, having no desire to complicate her life. Therefore, whatever had happened "not on Sakaar" was hardly a trifle.

"So... You've got a problem?"

"My only problem is sitting in the kitchen with a burnt tongue," the woman snorted.

Brunnhilde continued to stare at her with suspicion and concern.

Then she felt her hand, which had been resting on her friend's knee all this time, squeezed reassuringly by thin fingers.

"I assure you, sweetie, I'm perfectly fine," Dana's thumb stroked the outside of her palm affectionately. "I wouldn't go back without taking care of things. You have nothing to worry about."

If there was one thing Loki loved more than power, it was magic. In his immodest opinion, magic power was much more effective than physical and technical power, and when combined with a sharp mind, it could conquer the whole world. And if you can't conquer the world (or at least a city like New York), then you just need more magical power. Loki knew he was particularly gifted in the field of magic: very few Asgard's inhabitants possessed magical power and even fewer could use multiple types of that power. He had only met three in his entire life, not counting himself: Carnilla (former Asgardian High Enchantress), Amora (former apprentice of the former Asgardian High Enchantress and also his former amorous interest), and Frigga (former Queen of Asgard). All three - some unfortunately, some fortunately - were dead at this point, making Loki the only Asgardian (by citizenship, not by blood) capable of using multiple types of magic. Illusions and transformations were the first to be mastered, as they were the first to appear and the easiest for him to master. Then came runic magic, which he found much more difficult and which he found very impractical on the battlefield. Loki had only discovered some of his spatial magic a couple of decades ago, but it was enough time for him to master telekinesis and the ability to create spatial "pockets". His most recent discoveries were, perhaps, Jotun magic (which he absolutely refused to put into practice) and certain telepathic abilities, most likely due to his interactions with the mind stone inside the notorious scepter.

The ability to create spatial "pockets" was perhaps one of the most useful magical skills, especially in the context of recent events. It allowed Loki to carry all the necessary and not-so-necessary things everywhere without straining his hands at all. Initially, he kept money, weapons and clothes, sometimes food (but it had to be eaten before it was spoiled); after serving time in the Asgardian prison, money, weapons, and clothes were joined by books, valuable objects (some of which were not the property of the God of Lies before he got there) and even furniture. In case Loki found himself on a deserted wasteland without any amenities, thanks to the contents of his "pockets" he would be able to make a very comfortable life for himself there.

Since the end of dinner, Loki had been going through the books in his magical vault in search of a single folio that he wasn't even sure he had. He knew for a fact that the book was listed in the royal library, but he couldn't remember if he had "borrowed" it.

In the last few hours, though, Loki had to remember that he had definitely "borrowed" 273 books, nine of which were in duplicate. He also remembered the existence of some files and reports that had never returned to S.H.I.E.L.D's possession (though he never remembered why he had taken them with him).

At some point, somewhere around the fourth hour of the search, Loki mentally promised himself that from time to time he would audit the contents of his "pockets" and get rid of what he didn't need, rather than keeping it "just in case."

When he found himself holding a weighty volume in a burgundy leather cover with the title "Whom the Midgardians Worship. Volume 1," he nearly jumped out of bed in a burst of joy. It was one of six books he knew of that contained a detailed list of entities the Midgardians worshipped.

I hope the Ancient Egyptian Gods are in this tome, the God of Lies muttered to himself as he made himself comfortable on his bed. Let's see what we have here...

To his great fortune, the section "Gods of Ancient Egypt" was found almost immediately, although it was not as detailed as the section "Gods of Olympus". Apparently, the Asgardians had much less contact with the Ancient Egyptian gods than with the Olympians.

Loki read every line, some paragraphs were even reread twice, but he didn't find what he was looking for. The section listed all the ancient Egyptian gods, each with a description (albeit a superficial one in places), but Dana was not only not described anywhere, she was not even mentioned once. Not a word. Not the slightest hint. Nothing.

He slammed the book shut with irritation, sending it back into his "pocket". Several hours of searching - and not a shred of useful information. Could it be that Dana had simply been forgotten? No, the author who found it necessary to describe in detail the colors of the robes, the number of ornaments, and braids in the hairstyles, as well as the peculiarities of the sound of the sistrum (an instrument that Loki hoped never to hear), could not forget to mention the presence of another deity in the pantheon.

This led him to the two most likely conclusions: one, that bitch had nothing to do with the gods of Ancient Egypt; two, she was born after this Volume was composed. Loki liked the first option better because after looking at the images and reading the descriptions, he noticed that the woman was completely unlike the ancient Egyptian gods: first, her head was human (most of the time); second, she couldn't rival ice giants in height, as her probable relatives could; third, no self-respecting deity would wear those Midgardian rags unless it was an absolute necessity.

However, as much as Loki disliked this reasoning, he couldn't write off the second option. At least not until he figured out her age and did some math.

Ideally, though, he'd prefer the bitch to just disappear and he'd forget she even existed. Or at least just stay out of his sight.

Not before he got his revenge on her for this morning's tea incident. His tongue still ached.

Loki started going over his options in his head. The first idea that came to mind was to stab her with a knife - a reliable, time-honored method. But that didn't seem like a good option for this situation. First of all, he associated such antics with Thor, for it was Thor who had been the most often tested by this method, and Loki was not without a certain sentimentality. Secondly, even though the burn was painful (like all high-temperature injuries), he and the bitch were not fighting in the literal sense of the word, nor were they bleeding each other. Not yet. If their altercations got to that stage, that'd be his cue to get back to thinking about the stab wounds. Right now, he needed something else. Something more... neat. Something that required an intelligent approach. After all, he wasn't Thor to respond to everything with his fists.

As if sensing himself in his younger brother's thoughts, the Thunderer decided to remind him of his existence (as well as his very close proximity) with a snort. And it was not the hurried snoring of an amateur who had briefly fallen asleep, but the measured, impressive snoring of a professional who was going to sleep soundly through the night. Put a jug or other utensil on the nightstand next to a snorer and it would start bouncing.

He had never encountered such a problem while living in Asgard, mostly because his and his brother's chambers were at opposite ends of the palace, and they had far-flung tents when camping. Here, however, they were separated by only one wall, which, though composed of strong metal, could in no way stop the sounds coming from the king of the Asgardians. Loki doubted that there was any room in the pilot block where his brother's snoring could not be heard.

Most interestingly, he had not been aware of Thor's habit until now. And to be honest, Loki would have preferred to remain in ignorance of this immediate information, preferably forever.

At the thought that, in addition to the uninvited passenger who had set out to make his stay here unbearable, he would now have to endure Thor's thunderous snoring every night (if he weren't in such a nasty mood, he would definitely appreciate the irony), Loki was ready to howl.

What had he done to deserve such punishment?

Okay, that was a pretty stupid question, he had to admit. He had done just enough, and that was just in the last decade. And yet...

I'm not going to put up with any more of this!

Loki closed his eyes and focused on the neighboring room until an image of it appeared on the inside of his eyelids, signifying a successfully created illusion. A material double would be much more useful, of course - because it could properly shake his snoring brother - but the God of Lies had not yet mastered such magic. He had, of course, begun to study such enchantments during his "reign" over Asgard, but so far his best results had lasted little more than a minute in the immediate vicinity of its creator.

However, the illusion was more than enough to yell at his sleeping brother.

Loki (the intangible one) turned to the bed and learned one more detail about his brother that he would rather not know about - Thor, the son of Odin, the God of Thunder and the new king of Asgard hugged a pillow in his sleep. And it was a proper hug, not just an arm thrown over the object - Loki would not be surprised if his brother tried to kiss the pillow in his sleep, too.

From further observation of this scene, the God of Lies (the intangible one) was distracted by a new wave of snoring, which, due to the lack of a barrier in the form of a few centimeters of metal between the rooms, sounded much louder and much clearer, allowing the ears of the illusion to distinguish what was inaccessible to the ears of the original.

"Jjjjjrrrrrrrrrrrrr..." the intonation went up quickly and paused after reaching a crescendo, followed by a descending:"...aaaaaane."

Loki (both material and immaterial) rolled his eyes. The King of Asgard had dreamed in his sleep of the Midgardian who had abandoned him. What other humiliating facts would he have to learn about his brother during their trip to Midgard? And most importantly: when would he get the chance to use this knowledge to his advantage? Knowledge, of course, is a weapon, but only when there is an opportunity to use it. And in what situation he could use the knowledge he had gained today, Loki could not imagine.

He waited until the next pause between "Jjjjjrrrrrrrrrrrrr..." and "...aaaaaane" and made an attempt to break through his brother's dreams.

"Thor! Wake--"

Loki (the intangible one) only had time to catch some movement near the door with the corner of his eye before it sounded right next to his left ear:

"Goooooood morning, Vietnam!"

The next image imprinted on his memory was of swarthy hands holding a pot, followed by two liters of water splashing down on his pillow-cuddled brother, and then Thor jumping out of bed, waist-deep wet, his eyes bulging and... holding a pillow to his chest.

While his brother came to his senses, occasionally uttering "What...?", "Huh...?", "Eh...?" and "How...?", Loki (the intangible one) traced his gaze from the pot up the tanned arms until he came across the familiar yellow eyes staring back at him with either a disgruntled or suspicious squint. The God of Lies decided not to give the bitch a chance to start a conversation, which was inevitable in this situation, and raised the main question:

"How did you get in here?"

"Through the door."

He frowned. That was impossible, as he hastened to inform her.

"You couldn't get in here that way, bitch, the door has got a code lock, the password to which you don't know," neither did Loki, but he decided to keep that information to himself. "And even if you did, I would have heard you get in."

"I got through, not in, trickster."

"A new nickname? And based on my high level of magical skill? I'm flattered."

"Don't be, the new nickname has nothing to do with 'the high level of magical skill'," the woman snorted, folding her arms under her breasts. Now that she was wearing - as he'd just noticed, a pink silk robe and fluffy ginger slippers with a vaguely familiar ginger cat face - her behavior was not so much annoying as amusing. "Besides, I've seen better illusions than this one."

Loki (the intangible one) was about to ask what it was that gave away the illusion, but he was overtaken by Thor (still holding the pillow but now in a way you hug a pillow, not a mistress), who had come out of his sudden awakening.

"What are you doing in my bedroom? I was sleeping, by the way."

The yellow eyes immediately shifted their focus.

"I'd like to sleep too, by the way," the woman said in the voice of an affectionate snake. "But your snoring, Labrathor, could be heard throughout the block!"

Labrathor? Loki (the material one) repeated to himself. What kind of nickname is that?

"I snore?" Thor looked genuinely shocked. "Really?"

"Unfortunately, yes," replied the God of Lies (the immaterial one). "And it would be nice if you did something about it, because my chamber," he nodded towards the wall, "is the closest."

"And mine's on the other end of the block, but that doesn't make it any easier," the brown-haired woman grumbled. "And I'm not gonna rearrange my sleep schedule because of your nasopharyngeal problems. So, Labrathor, no snoring until I fall asleep, is that clear?"

"But, uh..."

"Shall I repeat the question?" there was a familiar growl in her voice that had an immediate effect.

"No, no need," the Thunderer replied immediately. "B-but..."

"But what?" she snapped.

"How do I know you've fallen asleep?" Thor looked like he wished he were anywhere but his bedroom.

"Ah," the bitch said, instantly getting nicer (if that word was even applicable to her). "Count down fifteen minutes after I leave, and then you can snore a duet with your brother."

"I don't snore," Loki (intangible) muttered.

"You better not, trickster, 'cause I won't be nice with you - I'll move you straight to the luggage compartment. Good night to all of us," she didn't even wait for his answer, she just headed for the door...

and then walked right through it.

Thor looked even more shocked. He even threw a pillow at the door (for which, apparently, he had no such warm feelings outside the world of dreams), but it did not follow the bitch in the pink robe but fell to the floor.

"You know," Thor began, "I don't think she was joking about the luggage compartment."

Chapter Text

"Bruce."

"No."

"Please!"

"No, Thor, I'm not going to change rooms with you."

"Is it difficult for you, or what? You don't have any stuff, so what's the difference where you live?"

“This is the only bedroom in the block that has no windows! The cosmic space, of course, has its own beauty, but it's not something I want to see first thing in the morning So no, Thor. I'm sorry."

The men were alone in the kitchen. Bruce had been up earlier than anyone else, and Thor had been up all night. Now they were both making breakfast, or at least trying to. Banner had managed to make an alien equivalent of an omelet, which may not have been the right color for the dish, but it smelled pretty good. The Thunderer, for his part, put the largest skillet he could find in the utensil drawer on the stove and was hammering away at some meat. A lot of meat.

"And you're going to eat it all?" asked Bruce.

"Nah, that's for all of us. Food brings you closer together, as Volstagg used to say," Thor said, putting the first piece on the heated skillet and bouncing away as it sizzled and hot spatters began to fly in all directions. "Do you want some?"

The doctor looked first at his omelet, which was more green than yellow, and then at the raw 'chops'. The chunks of meat had a deep shade of either dark purple or dark blue.

"No, I think I'll stick with the omelet."

"As you wish," Thor shrugged and went back to cooking, that is, watching the meat from a safe distance. "What spices are usually added to meat?"

"I don't even know whose meat it is, so how do I know which spice is right for it?"

"Meat is meat. What do they season it with on Midagrd?"

"Anything," Banner muttered. "Add salt and pepper, I think that will be enough."

The Thunderer nodded, and, putting the lid on the pan, went to the spice drawer. There was no problem finding salt, as well as an unopened packet of soda, in every kitchen, no matter where in the world it was located. But there was a problem with pepper. Not seeing the right inscription on the package, Thor pulled them all out, and tried to identify the right seasoning by smell, and if he couldn't - by taste. Bruce quickly realized that this was his chance to understand the spices without risking his own taste buds, and now he watched carefully to see what kind of grimace his friend's face got and after what kind of seasoning.

There were many spices on the ship. The God of Thunder had tasted the contents of about sixty packages, and would probably have tasted the other forty if it hadn't been for the unforgettable aroma that appeared in the kitchen. Everyone who has ever decided to "go online" while cooking a meal is familiar with it. It was the same smell that made you realize at once that your food had turned into black matter and that the dishes would have to soak in the sink for at least a week, although the iron would obviously give up faster than the remnants of the culinary masterpiece soldered to it.

Thor immediately ran over to the stove and turned it off, then made the major mistake of opening the lid. The kitchen was immediately enveloped in the unique aroma of burnt meat and smoke, making the men cough. Bruce wanted to run to open a window but remembered that they were in a spaceship and that there was no window in the kitchen, and even if there was, it wouldn't be a good idea to open it unless you wanted to blow out not only the smell but all the air.

There was a nasty squeaky sound, followed by the howl of a siren. It was the fire alarm going off. If it hadn't been so loud, you could have heard a quiet "oh, shhhhhh...", a crackle of cloth, and a "...iiiiiiit!", but much louder and lower. It was one less man and one more hulk on the ship.

"Thor, what for Odin's sake is going on here?!" suddenly there's one more god in the kitchen.

"Oh, Loki!" the Thunderer rejoiced. "How do I shut this thing down?"

"How should I know?!" his brother exclaimed, covering his nose with the bend of his elbow. "What's that awful smell?"

"Hulk," a familiar voice made Loki wince, "not like loud noises. Hulk want silence!"

Looking for the source of the sound, Banner's green hypostasis began to swivel its head and arms, casually hitting the kitchen drawers and the items standing on them, most of which were yesterday's washed plates. The dishes were clearly not impact-resistant, and so they shattered easily, adding new notes to the kitchen cacophony of noise.

"Hulk, you oaf, what are you doing?!" Thor tried to shout over the chaos.

"Silence!" he wailed as he continued to strike at random. The shards of dishes were joined by shards of lamp. "Silence!"

"You make the most noise," Loki muttered to himself, dodging green hands and flying shards. Trickster looked around, too, looking for the source of the noise. "Where in Helheim is this damn alarm system?"

He got the answer to his question quickly. Everything stopped as soon as the Hulk's fist slammed into the wall above the stove, blowing a hole in it and the alarm panel built into it.

"Silence," Hulk said contentedly, standing in the middle of the rubble that had once been kitchen countertops.

"You've ruined my breakfast, you big oaf," Thor said resentfully, looking down at the charcoals on the floor.

"Trust me," came from behind them. All three heads turned simultaneously toward the Valkyrie, who was dressed in full battle attire with her sword at the ready, "Spoiled breakfast is the least of your problems right now."

Last night, after drinking strong wine in the bathtub and eating a home-cooked dinner, for which Dana had used the leftovers of the flavorful wine to cook as promised, Burnnhilde went to bed in high spirits (having had another bottle of strong wine before going to bed). Things were going relatively well: her best friend was quickly getting into a new routine, having found a new hobby of getting on Lackey's nerves, there were no other surprises on the ship and they all just needed to continue to maintain the status quo until they arrived on Earth.

That she had relaxed too soon, the Valkyrie realized in the morning when she was awakened by an alarm that nearly burst her eardrums. The first thought that came to her mind in her sudden awakening was that Hela had somehow survived and had finally caught up with them. The sound of familiar voices and the sound of crashing furniture, which could hardly be heard over the siren's wail, only strengthened her faith in this theory, and so Brunnhilde immediately put on her armor, drew her sword, and went to what she thought was the heart of the battle in the kitchen.

There was indeed a battle. Except that the enemy was not Hela, but, apparently, the kitchen equipment. The Hulk had decided to take on this formidable foe and had brutally slaughtered it in a matter of minutes. It was a good thing that the refrigerator had miraculously survived.

Now the Valkyrie stood in the midst of a mess of debris, splinters and wires in the company of one definite culprit and two potential accomplices.

"So," Brunnhilde began, "will someone explain to me what happened here?

"Thor decided to make breakfast," Loki nodded toward the coals lying on the floor. "That also answers the question about the origin of that awful smell."

"Thor - stupid avenger," Hulk said.

"I never thought I'd say this, but I agree with him," the younger Odinson looked around the mess again, stopping at a pile of white splinters. "Where am I supposed to make tea now?"

"I'm more worried about where we're going to make food," the Valkyrie muttered.

"Thor - stupid avenger."

"Everyone heard perfectly well the first time," said the "stupid avenger" grudgingly.

"And where is your bitchy friend with sharp senses?" suddenly inquired the God of Lies. His face looked a little too pleased. "I'm surprised you got here before her."

Oh, crap. In all the commotion of the morning, she had completely forgotten about Dana, or rather about her reaction to such loud noises. Lackey was right, her friend had very acute hearing even in bipedal form. If Brunnhilde had nearly turned deaf during the incident, then Dana...

She immediately rushed to the refrigerator and started rummaging around for the stash of sweets that just had to be there. Valkyrie decided to start with the shelf where there were those foods that you would eat only in the very last turn when you had already eaten all the leather goods and your own fingers. As she expected, underneath the dried insects, reptiles and other unappetizing stuff were several chocolate bars and small packages of cookies. She grabbed all the goodies and a bottle of milk and ran as fast as she could to the door.

It was quiet behind the door. But this "quiet" had nothing to do with the concept of "peace and quiet," rather it was the kind of quiet that comes in horror movies a few moments before a character is attacked by a maniac with a bloody axe.

Mentally wishing herself luck, the Valkyrie knocked on the door. No one answered the knock. That was to be expected.

"Dana," she knocked again, "it's me."

"Fuck you," her friend growled.

Well, her eardrums were still intact and Dana had not lost her hearing. That's good.

"Why don't you open the door?"

"Why don't you get the fuck away frrrom me?

She wasn't any less of a bitch, either. Not that the Valkyrie was hoping for anything else.

"I brought you some cookies and milk."

The silence that followed became rather intrigued.

Brunnhilde decided to reveal her final trump card:
"And chocolate."

She didn't hear footsteps outside the door, but she did hear the electronic lock click, and then the door opened and slammed shut as soon as Brunnhilde dragged her other foot into the room.

"You've settled in quite nicely," the Valkyrie commented as she looked around the room.

The bedrooms in the pilot block did not differ much from each other in size and furnishings, except for the color scheme: Brunhilde's, for example, was dominated by metallic shades of gray and blue, while Dana got a room in bronze and black, which she had already managed to dilute with purple linens, which the Valkyrie had already seen in her friend's bedroom in her apartment on Sakaar. A few books and cosmetic items that Dana had managed to dig up in her bottomless bag also appeared on the shelves, and several pairs of shoes were lined up near the door.

The room was also warm. Much warmer than any other room. And that, too, was Dana's fault. Or rather, the reaction of her magic to her lousy mood.

"You know, if you keep burning with righteous anger, your chocolate will melt before you can eat it," Brünnhilde tried to reassure her friend.

Dana snatched a candy bar out of the pile of sweets with a low growl and took a bite of half of it at a time, her jaw working vigorously. As soon as the first candy bar was finished, the woman immediately stretched out her hand in anticipation of the second, after which it suffered the same fate as its predecessor. The third was dealt with in the same manner. So was the fourth. And the fifth.

By the time Dana had switched to cookies, the temperature in the room had returned to normal, and the woman herself no longer looked like she was ready to go for someone's throat at the first opportunity. The Valkyrie had achieved her goal, and now it was possible to have a civilized conversation.

"Better?" she asked.

Dana, still chewing her cookies, nodded.

"Did it hurt your ears much?"

"Imagine a house falling on yourrr head," the woman said grudgingly, finishing the rest of the cookies. "The last time I hearrrd such sirrrens was in London durrring the airrr rrraid. What the fuck happened, sweetie?"

"As I understand, our Labrathor burned his breakfast, stinking up the kitchen and setting off the fire siren at the same time," Brunnilde explained. "That, in turn, made our doctor nervous, and now we have a green giant flying with us instead. By the way, we don't have a kitchen now."

"Fan-fucking-tastic," Dana summarized. "Rrrefrrrigerrratorrr in ruined, too?"

"I don't think so. However, if it turns out that Hulk damaged the wiring, then the fridge and the freezer are dead."

"Fan-fucking-tastic," the woman repeated, but with a slightly different emotion.

Despite the terrible start to the day, which had left the pilot block without a functioning kitchen, Loki couldn't say he was unhappy with the way things continued to unfold over the next few hours. First, he managed to make himself some tea, even if he had to go to the next block and use the kitchen. Second, the most annoying bitch in the universe hadn't caught his eye since their meeting in his brother's bedroom last night. And third, Loki was lucky enough to be the only spectator of the never-before-seen performance of "The King of Asgard and the Hulk Cleaning Up."

It was worth the broken furniture, the God of Lies decided to himself as he continued to sip his tea.

"You could help, Loki," the Thunderer said grudgingly, picking up another pile of shards.

"I could, but I won't," he replied. "You started this, so you have to clean it up."

"Hulk not like cleaning," the vigilante grumbled, bagging up large pieces of kitchen furniture.

"If it weren't for you, there wouldn't be any cleaning," Thor told him.

"Hulk want quiet.

"So why for Surtur's sake did you yell the loudest?!"

"Thor - stupid avenger!"

"You're repeating yourself! That's the third time, by the way."

"I know," the Hulk said with a satisfied grin. "Thor - stupid avenger. Here, four.

To hell with the morning and the kitchen that's almost in pieces, this day is perfect!

"Wow," said a familiar female voice behind them. "Someone had finally had the sense to realize that they needed to clean up after themselves."

And this day is going to get even better, Loki thought, turning toward the woman. Soon enough.

In any other circumstance, the bitch's appearance would likely have elicited the exact opposite emotions and thoughts, but not in this situation. For two reasons. One, she looked disgusting, like she'd been run over by a chariot. Still, the fire alarm had given that contagion a good kick to her sensitive ears. Thor, without realizing it, had taken revenge on her instead of his little brother.

Well, secondly, she was angry-her facial expression made that clear. But today the object of her anger was not Loki, but Thor and, it seemed, the Hulk. For the God of Lies, this meant that the "King of Asgard and the Hulk are cleaning up" show would now change to "King of Asgard and the Hulk are getting pummeled". Too bad he didn't have any grapes and nuts to munch on during such a spectacle.

"Dana," Hulk said, pointing a finger at her. "Nice woman."

"That's where you're wrong, big guy," Loki commented to himself, not even trying to hide the outward signs of his amusement. "Even you'll realize that pretty quickly."

"Did you make a mess here?" without wasting time on pleasantries she asked and immediately asked a second question. "What the fuck?"

"Thor - stupid avenger," Hulk answered, as if that explained the situation. It kind of did, though.

"No one's arguing with that..."

"Hey!" his brother said, which he quickly regretted.

"Hush!" the bitch bellowed, glaring at the Thunderer. He almost jumped, to his brother's amusement. "You'll get your turn, too, don't worry, Labrathor."

Loki couldn't wait for this to happen already. His mood was at its highest point in the last week, and it was all thanks to the one that usually made his mood plummet. Who knew the bitch could make people happy?

Before taking his next sip of tea, though, the God of Lies decided to take his time and blow on it first. You never know.

"Hulk, why did you smash the kitchen?"

"Loud noise," replied the green avenger. "Hulk want quiet."

"Hulk want quiet very loudly", Dana mocked him. "Hulk also do big stupid thing: Hulk destroy the kitchen, destroy a lot of furniture, dishes and appliances. And with that, Hulk piss me off."

"Hulk not want to piss anyone off," the giant looked ashamed, which was another sight Loki had never hoped to see with his own eyes. "Hulk sorry."

"Hulk promise not to smash the furniture or make me angry again?"

He nodded in agreement.

"Hulk give his word not to smash the furniture and not to anger nice woman."

"That's a good thing," the woman hummed satisfactorily. "Because otherwise a nice woman becomes a bad woman, and a bad woman does bad things, Hulk understand me?"

He nodded again, looking down at his feet.

"Awesome," she said in a sweet and luscious voice. "In that case, Hulk will be forgiven as soon as he cleans up his mess."

"Clean up..." he muttered unhappily under his breath. "Hulk not--"

"Hulk what?" the woman interrupted him.

"Hulk be quiet," he said, and after a moment's thought, he added: "And clean up."

"Good boy," the smirk that stretched her lips would haunt Loki's nightmares if he were younger. "Now, your turn, Labrathor."

Finally, thought the God of Lies, making himself comfortable at the miraculously surviving table, a manic gleam in his eyes, like a child on the eve of Yule. Here comes the show.

"I didn't smash anything," Thor declared and pointed toward the Hulk cleaning up the trash. "It was all him."

"Thor - bad friend," the green giant said.

"We've already dealt with the mayhem. Now I'm interested in the root causes," her gaze was glued to the God of Thunder, not distracted by anything or anyone else, which made him very uncomfortable (much to his little brother's delight). "The big green guy didn't like the howling fire alarm that was triggered by the smoke from your burnt breakfast. And while I'm curious as to what in that kitchen got you so interested that your meat was cooked to well-black, I'm not gonna discuss time management with you or chastise you for your inability to focus on the task at hand."

"No?" Thor asked hopefully.

No? Loki thought disappointedly.

"No, we have something else to discuss," the woman replied and waved her finger at the thunderer. "Come here."

The God of Lies couldn't help but notice his brother pressing his feet harder against the floor as if trying to fuse with it.

"Come on, Labrathor, be brave. I promise I won't bite or scratch. I just want to check something."

Thor cautiously approached the short woman, who was obviously frightening him, and stopped a step away, ready to run away at any moment. It was a funny sight: the way the usually fearless, pumped-up Asgardian was timid in front of a woman who could barely reach his shoulder with her head, not to mention the fact that she was orders of magnitude weaker than he was physically. And yet, here he was, the King of Asgard, acting like a misbehaving puppy. This bitch has managed to gain more power over him than Loki and his mind stone could ever dream of.

"Lean toward me a little," she said in a deceptively soft voice. Thor leaned toward her obediently, not quite sure what was happening. The woman turned his head slightly and stared thoughtfully into his ear. "Interesting... I can't see anything..."

"Uh... What did you expect to see there? - The Thunder God asked cautiously.

"The light, because from the looks of it, your head should be empty," the woman replied, holding him firmly by the ear. "But considering I never saw the refrigerator through your ear, there's definitely something in your skull. Maybe even a brain. Now, answer me one question, Labrathor: Why the hell didn't you turn on the hood when you started frying the meat?"

"Should I have?" Thor wondered.

The woman blinked. For the first time since she'd been in the kitchen.

"This world never ceases to amaze me," she muttered under her breath and dragged the thunderer by the ear to the refrigerator, which, as it turned out, had a piece of paper taped to the door. Having intercepted the blond head more conveniently, the woman put his forehead against the door so that the sticker was right in front of his eyes... that is, right in front of his eye. "Can you read?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Read what it says."

"Turn on the hood when cooking," Thor read it.

"One more time."

"Turn on the hood while cooking."

"And again."

"Turn on the hood while cooking."

"Now tell me, which of these words do you not understand?" the woman asked, continuing to press his forehead against the refrigerator.

"Everything is clear."

"Then get into it, get into it, get into it", Thor's forehead was knocked three times against the refrigerator door. "Did the message get through?"

"It did", answered the God of Thunder.

"Next time you wanna cook something, what do you do?"

"Turn on the hood while cooking."

"Awesome," she finally let go of the king's golden-haired head and headed for the exit with a look of accomplishment.

However, upon reaching Loki, she suddenly stopped and looked at him with a squint. He stared back at her, prudently pushing his cup of tea away from him.

"Yes?" the God of Lies was the first to break the silence.

"You look... happy."

"I find myself in an unusually good mood today," he replied, smiling broadly at her and adding: "Thanks to you, by the way."

The expression of pure indignation, disbelief, and anger in the huge yellow eyes made Loki smile even wider.

To his surprise, the bitch didn't say anything back to him, but only snorted unhappily and resumed her path to the door.

"Are you leaving already?" Loki followed her, trying to sound like the happiest man in the world. "Not even staying for a cup of tea?"

"Your happy face pisses me off, Trickster," she said without turning around.

Loki cheered (both inside and out). His most annoying person's day was definitely ruined. Apparently, he didn't even have to put in any extra effort or imagination to get revenge on this infestation - just annoying her with his satisfied face was enough. Especially when her face looked like she had eaten the world's most sour lemon.

Suddenly, being roommates with the yellow-eyed bitch didn't seem like such a punishment anymore.

Chapter Text

Just when Loki decided that the problem of his brother's snoring had been eliminated, then another surprise awaited him in the form (or rather, sound) of the Hulk. When he heard those sounds for the first time, he thought they had serious engine problems. But going out into the corridor and finding there the female component of their small team, the trickster quickly realized that everything was in order with the engine. But his chances of getting a good sleep have sunk into oblivion. The Hulk was snoring. If, of course, it could be called snoring. From his nasopharynx came sounds similar to which can be heard while being near the area of difficult hostilities, which are also taking place in the earthquake zone. And the avenger slept in a room with the thickest walls...

I should have stayed on Sakaar, Loki thought. He had no intention of doing the same illusion trick as last night for the reason that he really loved to live. The information to the Hulk may have reached tight, but, rooted in the head, it did not come out of there. Now they were trying to root the fact that Loki has mended, but too little time has passed for it. On the other hand, the concept 'Loki - enemy; smash the enemies', which had taken root years earlier, was still sitting in a large sturdy skull. This meant that if the trickster planned to stay alive further, he needed to avoid anything that could somehow interfere or slow down the rooting of the concept of "Loki is not the enemy" in the head of the green avenger. I don't think he'd like it if I started yelling in his ear. Although, it is not a fact that he will hear...

Loki  looked at Dana with hidden hope. She caught his eye, frowned, crossed her arms under her chest and turned away. She didn't like the noise either, even more than everyone else, with her keen hearing. However, even she will not risk waking the Hulk. Hell knows how he will behave suddenly awoken. Dana's body, maybe, was stronger than a human one, but it was inferior to the body of an Asgardian, and if even the Asgardians were having a hard time with this green brute, then fuck this shit.. She loved to sleep, but the prospect of falling asleep forever did not please her very much, just like the prospect of lying with multiple fractures.

I really thought that nothing would irritate me more than this trickster, thought the brown-haired woman, continuing to listen to the duet “Problems with the nasopharynx” (Thor, unlike the others, did not experience any inconvenience and snored the Hulk from his room). And from him so far the least problems.

Now two pairs of eyes stared at Brunnhilde. She stared at them with a look like 'What can I do?'

"Dana," the Valkyrie started, "is there any chance that there are some slipping pills somewhere in your bag?"

"Do you think I would stand here with you two if there were any?" she replied with irritation. 

"And what about the first-aid post?" asked Loki.

"Only headache pills, bandages and syringes," Brunnhilde said.

"Can't you conjure up some soundproof barrier?"

"Do you think I would stand here with you two if I could?" Loki mimicked the  woman.

"Huh,"  the woman chuckled and turned away again. "And you call yourself a God."

"You'd better keep quiet, bitch. There is already enough noise without your help."

"And from all the ships you just had to choose the one I was sleeping in... Crying me and my sweet sleep."

"You never cry," the Valkyrie corrected her.

"It was a figurative expression."

"So, you constantly tell everyone to express themselves more precisely, and you yourself use figurative expressions?"

"There are general laws, and there are special cases," the woman shrugged her shoulders.

"And what does it mean?"

"It means that when she uses words like 'everyone' and 'no one', she does not apply them to herself,” Loki answered for the woman. "Very comfortable life position."

"Still better that the position of the wronged child."

"Who did you call the wronged child?" the trickster started getting angry.

Oh no. Gods, please, not this shit...  thought Brunnhilde, struggling to contain herself so as not to slam herself on the forehead.

"The one who caused the pogrom in New York,” Dana replied and continued in a venomous voice. "Didn't you have enough time to play war in childhood?"

"Wow, you care about something but yourself," Loki said in tune with her, stretching his lips into a grin. “Although I don’t remember seeing you on the Rescue Team."

"Probably because I wasn't there. To your great luck, I don't care about NY or any other city I don't love in, because if you had chosen my Seattle as your playground, I would've hunt you down, rip your head off and used it as a candy-vase for Halloween."

“You’d be dead before you could even touch me with a finger,” the trickster answered her in a smug voice. "Although no, perhaps not dead, but completely subordinated to my will. I’m sure I would have come up with many ideas of what to make you do or what to do with you..."

"Keep dreaming, that's what you once said?" Dana chuckled.

"Dreaming is about something unrealizable, but my plans are quite feasible," God mimicked her, "that's what you once said?"

"As far as I know, without the wonder-scepter your plans are certain to remain a dream. Though, I doubt that even with its help you would have been able to influence me, you would have to get close enough in order to try this."

"Do you think I would have failed?" Loki raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Think?" the woman looked at him with a challenge. "I know for sure. I would have rip your throat open before you touched me with your magic wand."

"Have that much confidence in yourself?"

"You have no idea," her voice became lower and growling.

Things are going south, the Valkyrie immediately became alert and prepared, judging by the changes in her friend's voice, to break up the fight. Anyway, when they grapple with each other was only a matter of time. It remains only to decide who will have to be dragged away from whom. 

She was not allowed to think about the last question for a long time. Dana, already with an improved set of claws and teeth, pounced on Loki, intending to grab him by the throat. Fortunately, the trickster's reaction was fine, and he managed to block the blow with one hand, and tried to stab the woman in the stomach with another, and he would have succeeded if she were not such a nimble. Twisting, the brown-haired woman kicked him on the ribs, almost knocking the opponent to the ground, but he managed to hit her with his elbow on the shin, then grabbed her knee, not allowing Dana to regain her second footing.

For a moment they were both numb from the contrast of temperatures. Loki's body temperature was about five degrees lower than that of an ordinary person, while Dana's normal was thirty-nine and five. Therefore, the sensations at the moment of the skin to the skin touch for these two were something like this: Loki felt as if he had grabbed an iron spoon that had been lying in boiling water for several minutes, and Dana felt as if a package of ice cream was put on her leg.

As soon as the moment of numbness passed, Loki's free hand with a dagger clutched in it darted to the woman's throat, but was immediately caught. And then the trickster felt in full measure what Thor once felt on himself. Ten long, sharp claws slammed into his hand, making the god hiss in pain. Until Dana had time to rip his forearm to shreds, Loki let go of her leg for a second, but only in order to materialize in his hand the dagger again and stabbed it into her thigh. This time it was Dana's turn to hiss. If she lets go of his hand, the first dagger will reach her throat, and if not, then the trickster can turn an ordinary stub into a deep long scratch. However, as soon as he moves the dagger in her leg, she will immediately move her claws in his hand.

Hell knows how long they would have continued to stand like this, bleeding, had it not been for the Valkyrie who cast her voice, deciding that was enough for today.

"I think you've played enough already,” she said calmly. "Let go of each other."

No one even looked at her. Opponents continued to incinerate each other with their eyes, oblivious to the pain of the wounds and the blood dripping on the floor.

" Dana, stop being stubborn, remove your claws," continued Brunnhilde. “Loki, take the dagger away."

"He fir-r-rst,” the brown-haired woman responded immediately, without breaking eye contact with the trickster.

"Hell, no," he answered. "Ladies first."

"You're both bleeding," the Valkyrie reminded them.

"Per-r-rfect," Dana growled. "I'll just wait until he faints or dies fr-r-rom blood loss."

"Don't croak yourself while waiting."

"Enough. I'm tired of you. Both." the Valkyrie's voice became louder and more irritated. "I count to three, and on the count of three you simultaneously let go of each other. If anyone tries to throw something out, I will stop him. Or her. Ready?" and without waiting for an answer, she began counting: "One ... Two ... Three."

At first, nothing happened. Dana and Loki continued to stare at each other half with discontent, half with incredulity. Then the trickster felt a slow movement of the claws in his forearm, not to the side to rinse his hand, but outward. He began to pull the dagger out of the woman's leg just as slowly. Both quietly hissed and sometimes frowned in pain, but stubbornly continued to stare into each other's eyes. The Valkyrie could swear the two didn't even blink.

"That's right, well done,” she said calmly, but she herself was ready to separate these two, if anything happens. "And now take a step back... Yes, like this... And another little step... And more... Well don..."

"Enough already," the trickster interrupted her. "We're not children."

"And your behavior says otherwise," the Valkyrie replied.

"He was the fir-r-rst to star-r-rt," Dana immediately turned the spotlight on him, transferring her weight to her healthy leg.

"Me?! It's you who can't keep the mouth shut."

"Look who's talking."

I agree, they are not children, Brunnhilde thought, listening to their bickering. They are worse. They are like a couple of teenagers: impulsive, cocky and problematic. Just give them the opportunity to get into a skirmish, and they will come up with a reason themselves. And how did the discontent with snoring turn into debriefing? 

"Since you are so annoyed by each other's company," the Valkyrie decided to interrupt the swearing couple, "why don't you quickly disperse to your rooms?"

"Maybe you’ll also punish us for bad behavior, Mommy?” it was pronounced with so much poison that Brunnhilde had an obsessive desire to really do it. However, it is unlikely that Dana would like it, and she, as a rule, shows her discontent quite clearly.

"Indeed, it won't hurt,” Loki replied in tune with the woman. "Quite the opposite, actually. It will benefit her."

"You too, by the way, for that matter,” said the Valkyrie. The trickster, perhaps, behaved more calmly than the feline demigod, but also sometimes caused a desire to crack him on the head with something heavy. "The proposal is the same as on the first day of our acquaintance: we silently disperse to the rooms and do not see each other until morning. Deal?"

Just like last time, there was a tense silence. Loki glared at Dana with displeasure, Dana glared at him in response, and Brunnhilde's gaze darted from side to side, like a cheerleader at a ping-pong match.

"I would wish you good night, friend,” Dana was the first to break the silence this time, “but, as you can hear, we will not see a sleep. Unless some higher power will send us temporary deafness in both ears. Until that happens, I’ll go and see if there’s any sex shop stuff in my bag... Wanna join me?"

"In searches or in what follows?" clarified Brunnhilde, sighing with relief to herself. The growling notes in her friend's voice disappeared, which means she calmed down. More or less.

"Do I have to choose?" the woman asked with a playful grin.

"Maybe, some other time, Dana,” the Valkyrie replied. “You'd better start with healing first, and only then with debauchery."

"Can be combined. I had a nurse's suit somewhere... Or was it a doctor's one?"

"Dana."

"Most likely, there are both of them somewhere," the brown-haired woman waved. "I'll need to have a good look in the depths of the bag, there is so much that can be found..."

"Dana," Brunnhilde interrupted her. "Go and treat the wound," she turned to the trickster. "You too."

Loki did not answer, just silently returned to his bedroom, locking the door after himself. The scratches, or rather the stubs from the claws, were deep and bled quite a lot. Thor was lucky that Dana was in a cat's guise that time, otherwise he could have said goodbye to his hand: it's one thing when your hand scratched up and down, but with little half-centimeter claws (however, sharp fangs also took part), and quite another - when ten five-centimeter claws stick into your flesh.

She could've easily turned my hand into minced meat, the thought flashed through Loki's head as he rolled up his sleeve and began to examine the damage. If Dana had thrust them a little deeper, the claws would have reached the bone. Let this woman reach your throat - and you can say goodbye to your life. If I ever have to fight her in earnest, the first step is to immobilize her arms.

Having processed and bandaged his forearm, the trickster lay down on the bed and closed his eyes. He didn't even hope to fall asleep - not with the snoring duo of the avengers, no - he just lay there with his eyes closed and thought as always. In his head, as luck would have it, stuck the image of Dana. The trickster could see her now so clearly, as if he were looking at a photo: raised dark hair, a displeased swarthy face and yellow eyes fulfilled with anger, burning a hole in him. As much as this woman irritated him, he could not help but admit that there was... some kind of wild beauty in her, or something. Something that is both attractive and repulsive. Like a predatory animal: many predators have charm and attract the eye with their beauty and grace, but at the same time make it clear that it is better not to approach them, unless, of course, you want to become a snack.

Loki shook his head, trying to shake out the thoughts of this bitchy pest. Thing were taking wring direction... Her face flashed before his eyes again, and his good hand suddenly felt warm. He remembered the sensation of her hot skin under his palm as he grabbed her leg. Goosebumps spread from the tips of his fingers all over his body. Nice feeling. Now Loki was most interested in just one thing...

Why the Hell am I thinking about it?! he immediately turned his gaze to the injured hand. Little by little, pleasant sensations began to be replaced by a socking pain, and Dana's image acquired more repulsive traits than attractive ones. Now she again did not evoke anything in God except irritation and the desire to properly strangle her. The trickster chuckled contentedly. That's better…

Chapter Text

The planet that had to become their first stop was beautiful, as were the surrounding clusters of stars and nebulae of all shades of blue. And to show all this beauty to her friend, the Valkyrie did not even have to wake her up: Dana, like Brunnhilde and Loki, did not close her eyes for the fourth night in a row. Even here, in the cockpit with the doors closed and the buzzing power supply unit, the next hit of the group "Problems with the nasopharynx" was heard loudly and clearly.

Although, the Valkyrie could not help but admit that these regular night concerts had one plus: lack of sleep exhausted Loki and Dana enough that these two limited themselves with only verbal skirmishes, or completely ignored each other, just like they were doing now, silently standing on both hands from her and watching the slowly spinning silver-blue planet.

"What planet is this?" asked the trickster in plain voice and the very same plain face. If only he could have a good sleep...

"Bluin," answered Brunnhilde wearily. If only she could get drunk and pass out... "The planet of blue mountains and blue forests."

"And also snow resorts and building materials," Dana added. If only someone would shoot her with a tranquilizer... "Where are we going to land? Somewhere cold or somewhere very cold?"

"Somewhere I am familiar with environment."

"Uinbjerg? You've been there only once, and it was two hundred years ago, according to your drunken stories."

"It's still one time more that any of you on this ship have," the Valkyrie said. "It's great there: a lot of nightclubs, all sorts of eateries and taverns."

"Who would have doubted," Loki commented. "What do we need besides fuel and food?"

"New kitchen," Brunnhilde said.

"And also earplugs and slipping pills," Dana added. "And something to wash them down with."

"I suggest strong beer. So string it's called whiskey."

"Do they accept Sakaar's currency, or should I use a bit of tech-magic over the Grandmaster's account?"

"Sakaar is an intergalactic dump! Of course they do," Valkyrie said, and then thought. The Grandmaster used this ship for long trips in large companies, so his account always has a big sum, she did not doubt, and did not doubt that the password from this very account remained unchanged. "Although... You don't know what alien currency can be translated into Earth's one?"

"Legally - none. The Earth, to put it mildly, is not very open for interplanetary relations," the brown-haired woman squinted her eyes towards Loki, "which is not surprising. But a little illegal activity and skill can achieve amazing results."

"So you can transfer some of the Sakaar's money to the earthly one?"

"Of course, I did somehow manage to do this trick the other way around!" catching the surprised look of her friend, Dana rolled her eyes. "Where do you think I got enough money to buy a huge apartment in the center?"

"Hm, I don't know..." the Valkyrie said mockingly. "Oh, wait! Maybe, job?"

"We both know I wasn't paid that much. In general, there will be no problems with the translation, but I need an adapter, or rather several, to charge my equipment from these damn Sakaar's sockets. I will need access to my earthly bank accounts for this procedure. So until we get to the electronics store, there is nothing I can do."

"Can you create Sakaarian accounts?" Brunhilda asked.

"For the Asgardians?" she nodded. "I can, but it will take a long time. There are several hundred of them, damn it!"

"Five and a half, to be precise," Loki corrected her. "That's not counting the revolutionaries."

"I understand, Dana, but it will be much easier if everyone buys everything they need by themselves, than if only one person is responsible for the purchases."

"And? That's not my problem. I don't mind helping with the earthly account, it's not such a pain-in-the-ass task, and you really cannot do without it upon arrival, but to loom with half a thousand bank accounts for people I do not even know... I have no intention to do it, no matter how you ask to. Altruism has never been my strong side."

"What if it's less than half a thousand?" Brunnhilde suggested. "If one account for one family?"

"Unless you have very large families, and half a thousand will be reduced to ten."

"So you suggest that I go to the store and back until I buy everything needed for more than five hundred people?"

"You? Why it should be you? The Asgardians have their king, don't they? Let him satisfy his people's needs."

"I'm serious, Dana."

"An so am I, sweetie," seeing that the Valkyrie continues to look at her with displeasure, the woman sighed. "Do they have terminals only with a scanner or with a keyboard too on Bluin?"

"With everything and more."

"Then I propose this way: you and I use our e-wallets, and let the rest write down the number and password of the account of this ship. The paying process, of course, will be slowed down, but I think they will tolerate it. After all, they manage to tolerate their royal family..."

Silence reigned... Though no, the last few days silence was something that can be only dreamed about here... No one was talking, so it would be more correct to say. Brunhilde scrolled in her head the rules for flying to other planets and what to do when landing. A few more hours and the ship will enter the atmosphere. The Valkyrie reminded herself to warn the crew some time in advance to grab onto something that firmly nailed to the wall or floor. It's gonna to shake. And she will need to turn on the cooling panels to slightly reduce the temporal effect on the ship while going through atmosphere. And also do not forget to change the flight mode in time when they are at the altitude of the flight of domestic planetary flights. And don't forget to request a boarding clearance...

But first of all, I need to turn on the navigator in order to find this Uinbjerg, and some shuttle stop as well, Brunnhilde thought. She has been to Bluin only once and only visited one city-state, but she spent enough time there to learn the basic facts about this planet. Bluin was a large blue ball slowly circling around a silvery star, with a population of only three billion. Of course, due to regular tourists, exchange students or business travelers, this number increases from time to time, but still the number of souls remains rather small for such a large area. Settlements made up only a tenth of the planet, while the rest of the area was occupied by MMDB - that is, miles and miles of damned Bluin. Its useful to note, that these very MMDBs were completely covered with dense blue forests, in which games such as "try to run away so that you do not get eaten" and "make it home before you turn into an icicle" were still played, and, of course, mountain slopes (although in Asgard slopes of this steepness were usually called walls). And it was also cold there, like in Jotunheim. However, this planet was famous not only for its resorts, but also for incredibly high quality goods, especially technology and warm clothing. However, this is not surprising: the quality, especially of heaters, transport, and especially warm clothes, is determined not so much by the desire to get a prestigious place on the market, but by the need to live here.

"I'm going to go rummaging through my bag looking for the right clothes," said Dana, who had enough of admiring the blue beauties, and headed to the exit. "Warn us when we go through the atmosphere."

"Yeah."

***

Loki gazed with some displeasure at the landscape below the ship. Snow, ice, steep slopes and no signs of civilization: the same Jotunheim, only with tall blue pines (or what are these trees called there?). And of all possible planets, why had it to be this one?

"You looke tired, brother," Thor, awakened not so much by the Valkyrie's warning about the entry into the atmosphere, as by the shaking that began during this very entry, decided to keep the trickster company in contemplation of the new terrain. "Not enough sleep?"

The speed with which Loki turned his head could send any slow motion into the deepest shock. Having reached the needed position, the trickster gave his brother a look capable of keeping milk fresh for a month.

"No," he replied in a voice that, by lowering his degree even a little bit, could have helped Thor to fully experience on himself what Steve Rogers felt seventy years ago.

Loki sincerely hoped it would eventually come to his brother that he was not in the mood to maintain a small talk, and that he would finally be left alone for a little while, but the thunder-god whether belonged to the very type of people by whom even the gun pointed to the forehead was perceived as a very subtle hint, whether he simply decided not to pay attention to the desire of the trickster to stay in quiet, even relative one.

"Beautiful planet, isn't it?" continued Thor, without diminishing a single ounce of enthusiasm.

"Cold and deserted,” Loki replied with restraint, continuing to stare into the windshield.

"Well, I can't agree with the deserted part... There are plenty of trees here."

"That's not what I meant."

"Oh, so you meant people," Thor guessed. "Then yes. Doe not look like very populated place."

"Did you come here to talk about this?" the trickster did not sound happy (nor did he looked that way).

"I have already forgotten just how irritable you are."

"In that case, it's my pleasure to remind you of that," Loki said in a venomous voice. "Just tell me why you came."

"You've been kind of weird lately,” Thor said with undisguised concern.

"I've always been a little weird, haven't I?"

"Yes, but now you're… even weirder than usual. Are you alright?"

"And why would I be not alright?" the trickster answered with a question.

"Is it because we are going to Earth?" thunder-god continued asking. "Does it bother you that Banner is still in the form of the Hulk? Or does it have anything to do with Dana?"

"And how did that come to your head?" Loki was indignant. He could understand the first two assumptions, for them Thor did have some reason, but the last one...

"Then what's wrong?"

Loki could hardly stop himself from rolling his eyes. Just where did his half-brother get all that stubbornness from? A second question immediately arose in his head: what should he answer? It's not that the trickster wants to answer anything at all, but then Thor won't let go of him, and it won't be easy to avoid him in a confined space, so he needed to say something. Definitely not the truth. Loki won't say that he suffers from his own thinking, which, thanks to the night cacophonies, worked tirelessly for days on end, will he? Also, he was not going to say that he was frightened by the unknown of what would happen after their arrival on Earth. And even more so, he was not going to admit that one certain yellow-eyed person also takes an active part in his thoughts, and much more often than she should have. The latter, by the way, worried the trickster the most.

"I am fine, Thor," he told his brother. "I just haven't been able to get enough sleep lately."

"Really? Why?" thunder-god asked with genuine surprise in his voice.

"Oh, I don't know..." the trickster stared at the ceiling with a thoughtful look. "Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I can not fall asleep because of your "musical accompaniment" with the Hulk?"

"Come on, it cannot bother you that much. If you really want to sleep, you can fall asleep even to the sound of a jet engine."

"Of course," said the Valkyrie, sitting in the pilot's seat. "There will be less noise from the jet engine. By the way, where's the big guy?"

"He's having breakfast," Thor replied.

"More precisely, destroying the remnants of provisions."

Just how does this woman manage to move around so quietly? Loki thought, turning towards Dana, who appeared in the cockpit. The search for clothes was obviously crowned with success, for the familiar pink robe was replaced by familiar jeans, a beige tight turtleneck and suede boots. Especially, while wearing these heels?

"It's time to hide food from him, otherwise we'll starve to death," the brown-haired woman went to her friend and leaned her hip against the dashboard. "Or at least to return him to the human guise with a moderate appetite."

"If only it were that simple,” the trickster muttered under his breath. More than anyone on this ship, he desired the transformation of the green avenger into a safe avenger. Although, the "safe" Banner is the same Hulk, just conspiratorial for the time being (that is, until the first stressful situation).

"Are you going to walk around Bluin in this?" Brunhilde asked, looking at Dana from head to toe. Her clothes could be called warm only symbolically.

"Let's start with the fact that I'm not going to walk around Bluin - only around Uinbjerg, and maybe around its outskirts, if there is something to see. Or someone," Dana added with a sly smile, forcing the Valkyrie to roll her eyes. "Anyway, my choice is not so hot: these jeans, as I found out recently, are my only pants. I rummaged in my bag for several hours, and from what I managed to find there, this - she ran her hands over her body - is the most appropriate outfit for the occasion."

"I’m more than sure you have more clothes than there are stars in that galaxy.”

"Yes, and most of them are gorgeous evening dresses and no less gorgeous lecherous outfits, as well as a wide variety of nighties and lingerie. Maybe I do have a few coats, sportswear, or at least office suits with me, but if so, then I haven't gotten to them yet. Therefore, sweetie, either this or what I listed earlier."

"You will freeze," Brunhilde said without giving up her positions. 

"No, I won't."

"Yes, you will."

"No."

"Yes." 

"Wanna bet?"

"It's as cold there as in Jotunheim, if not worse,” the Valkyrie crossed her arms over her chest. "Have you ever been there?"

"Perhaps," the woman shrugged. "It's hard to know the name of the place you got to, if there's no "Welcome to..." sign, so maybe I've been to all nine worlds of your... what do you call that snag?.. Oh yes, Yggdrasill. Perhaps even to Asgard," she turned to the Odinsons. "Are you sure you've never seen or heard of me before?"

Loki chose to simply ignore her. But Thor, it seems, began to rummage in his memories in earnest... Especially in those of Fandrall's stories about women he met. 

"t's not Asgard we are talking about now, but Jotunheim," Brunhilde reminded.

"Which, like Asgard, has nothing to do with this whole situation."

"Is it so hard for you to believe that it’s really very cold outside?”

"And is it so hard for you to believe that I really won't turn into ice?" Dana retorted. "Sweetie, I know what I'm doing."

"You always say that."

"Because it's always true."

"The hell it is," the Valkyrie disagreed. "Should I remind you how many times your 'I know what I'm doing' ended with a complete disaster?"

"So what? I've never said 'I know what's gonna happen after', have I? The future is a very uncertain thing. You rarely know for sure which turn it will take. I prefer not to even try to figure it out."

"As you wish," Brunhilde raised her hands in resignation. "Do what you want, as you usually do. I won't say another word to you."

"You will."

"No."

"See, what'd I say?"

"You're unbearable."

"Say something we don't know yet,” the trickster's voice cut in. “Better yet, go back to controlling the ship. We're on our way."

Brunhilde immediately turned her gaze to the windshield. Indeed, they almost flew over the city (in general, it was a city-state, but not the essence). Uinbjerg was a big city. Two hundred years ago. Now, it was just huge. Either they decided to build more hotels, or more industrial enterprises - it is not clear, but no matter what they decided to add, they added a lot. Although, there were still much more miles and miles of damned Bluin.

It's amazing how they did it, she thought as she went down and slowed down. She may not be very versed in engineering, construction and architecture, but she certainly knew that it was better to erect large, heavy structures in which living creatures of varying degrees of rampage would have to live, on a flat surface. Uinbjerg was not deprived of flat areas of the surface. The trouble is, almost all of these areas were vertical in nature. Although, two hundred years and a huge amount of resources are enough to fix almost every landscape.

The Valkyrie tuned her communications and radar to the local frequency and was now looking for a parking lot that had empty seats. It would be possible to land at one of the airports, but there they always charge three times more for parking. Plus, it's awfully far from the center. Choosing from four options the one whose name was easiest to pronounce and remember, Brunhilde contacted the dispatcher and requested permission to land. In addition to the general data on the parameters of the ship, the dispatcher, however, also requested data on its crew, so she had to make a couple more circles above the parking lot while the exact number of passengers was being counted.

Finally, when all the conditions were met, the dispatcher reported the number of the parking lot and, wishing a successful landing, ended the call. It was hard not to notice the parking lot: three huge '6' sparkled brighter than Stark Tower in New York. For some reason, the number made Dana let out a short laugh.

"Attention, the captain of the ship is speaking," said the Valkyrie into the radio. She clearly liked the role of the main (and only) pilot. “Our vehicle is landing at Uinbjerg, Bluin. The temperature overboard is poor, so do not run head over heels to jump out when the ship sits down. The request, just like during the entry into the atmosphere, grab hold of something, and also grab hold of your children. I know that you didn't have much choice, but thanks anyway for choosing our company."

Chapter Text

The temperature outside, like the weather in general, was even more inhospitable than Brunnhilde had imagined. The wind was blowing, and the cold was so strong that even the Valkyrie's ammunition, which (more or less) withstood the frosts of Jotunheim, barely saved her from it.

"It-t-t's b-b-bloody c-c-cold-d-d," Thor said somehow, pounding his teeth and hugging himself with his hands in vain attempts to keep a little warm. If the Valkyrie's clothes, hiding her from throat to toe, did little to help, then what can we say about sleeveless armor.

"Tell me about it," Brunnhilde agreed with him, adding to her pace, although she and the thunder god were almost running towards the glazed building. "They need to solve this problem somehow. You can freeze to death until you get there."

"Your fault, you should've landed at the airport or look for a covered parking lot,” Dana told her. She, unlike her friend, walked slowly. Remembering something, the brown-haired woman grinned. "Well, and which one of us is frozen now?"

Brunnhilde looked at her either with hatred, or with surprise, or with both of them. Dana, dressed in what could pass for warm clothes only with a very large padding, felt great. So was Loki. And the Hulk. And if everything was more or less clear with the latter (if the avenger did not feel the slightest discomfort while beating Surtur, who was made entirely of red-hot lava, then what can simple frost do to him?), then these two... They were dressed completely out of the weather, however, they did not experience any discomfort from this very weather. Both seemed oblivious to the cold and the wind.

Magic, not otherwise, Brunnhilde thought, not without envy. She, too, would not refuse... what kind of charm were these two using now?... in short, now she also really wanted to become immune to weather conditions. These two have more in common than they think.

However, looking more closely, Brunnhilde realized that they had nothing in common (in this situation, at least). Everything was exactly the opposite. Loki did not feel cold because he himself was cold, and so much so that his breathing was almost the same temperature as the air. It couldn't even be seen. But Dana... Her breathing was visible very well. Hell, breath... her whole body exuded steam, like a cup of hot tea. Dana was immune to cold simply because she was too hot and somehow... but why "somehow"?... in a very definite magical way did not allow her body to cool down.

Though, the Valkyrie was wrong about one thing. Magic in this case was used only by Dana, for whom frostbite and death from the cold were very real, but extremely undesirable prospects. Loki, in turn, did not need magic so as not to freeze: he could quite calmly be even in open outer space, if there was something to breathe. Perhaps, if he thought about it, he would feel some joy from the presence of Jotun genes in him. But the only thing the trickster was thinking about now was a good sleep, so no joy came to him.

The registration hall greeted the newly arrived tourists with bright light and warmth, which Thor, whose teeth were dancing a tap dance, was overjoyed with. Brunnhilde, too, was glad to finally feel her fingers.

A woman came up to them in clothes that reminded Dana of the uniform of airport workers on Earth, only this option was clearly warmer, which was not surprising.

"Welcome to Uinbjerg,” the blonde said in the voice of a call center worker. To complete the picture, the only thing missing was quiet classical music somewhere in the background. "May I know the purpose of your visit?"

"Refuel,” the Valkyrie replied courteously before no one else — especially Dana — could open his/her mouth. "We will stay here for four to eight days."

"Can I see your documents and documents of other passengers?"

"Only two of us have documents, " Brunnhilde nodded towards her friend. She was just rummaging in her bag, perhaps in an attempt to find these very documents. "The rest of the crew are from Asgard, where they don't use paper or digital documents."

"In that case, we will drive fingerprints, retinas into the system and make identification cards," the woman said with the same polite smile. “It won't take more than fifteen minutes per person."

"Yes, thanks. We also need thermal coats. Do you have a pick-up point here?"

"Unfortunately not, but we will contact the nearest airport and they will be delivered within an hour. Are there as many coats as there are passengers?"

"No, minus three," Loki, Dana and Hulk felt great and clearly did not need coats. The Valkyrie waited for the blonde to send a request to the airport from her tablet, and continued: "And the guidebooks?"

"At the exit near the information desk. Need help unloading your luggage?"

"No luggage, only hand baggage."

"Great," the woman smiled even wider, as if posing for a toothpaste advertisement. "The coats are on the way. I suggest registering you for now, and then the others. ”She pulled out a small scanner from her pocket. "Your documents, madam?"

Brunnhilde silently held out her wrist, palm down. She preferred chipping. For some reason, many were against this method. Probably because they never had to restore documents, the Asgardian thought. She herself, in a drunken stupor, lost them three times and went through hell three times when she restored them. Those lines almost drove her mad...

"Your documents, madam?" the blonde stopped opposite Dana. She silently handed her her passport, or rather one of her passports. The woman scanned the document, then stared at the device with suspicion. “I'm sorry, madam, but the scanner does not recognize this document."

"And?" the woman asked with an imperturbable face.

"It is necessary to provide documents confirming your identity."

"Which is exactly what I just did."

"Documents readable by a scanner,” the blond woman said.

"It's not my fault that this thing "reads" poorly," the brown-haired woman shrugged her shoulders and turned to the Valkyrie. "If anything, I'm waiting at the information desk to book a hotel. What number would you like?"

"I'll book it myself," Brunnhilde replied. 

"As you wish. Then I'm not waiting. See you here tomorrow afternoon," Dana turned on her heels and walked from her hip to the place of scanning of hand luggage and luggage, waving her hand goodbye. "Ciao."

"But, madam, your documents..." the blonde wanted to hint that if the scanner cannot read the document, then it is not its fault, but the fault of the document, and that, according to the rules, the passenger must either provide other identity documents or go through a different registration procedure, but Dana took hints almost the same way as Thor did. Only if the thunder god, like most men, simply did not know how to recognize them, then Dana recognized them very well, but she preferred not to pay attention to them if it was not beneficial to her. She long ago realized that if you ignore the rules, then in most cases they are quietly rewritten so that they do not apply to her. And now, the blonde sighed resignedly and turned to the three people remaining. "Please follow me one at a time. Who is going to be the fi...?

"Me," the woman did not have time to finish the phrase, as Loki interrupted her, stepping forward. He was impatient to leave this building as soon as possible, rent a room with a luxurious bed and sleep until tomorrow morning.

***

It took a shit... a lot of time to register half a thousand migrant tourists. All this to let tired from the long wait Asgardians have a light snack (in Asgard a light snack is three or four dishes, not counting cheeses and nuts) in the nearest places where the food was served, and then go back to the ship to make plans for tomorrow and to have a good sleep before fulfilling these very plans.

Brunnhilde wouldn't mind sleeping either, considering the last few days. She chose the hotel on the simple principle: that the hotel was next to the parking lot, and even better - right in it. Unfortunately, the Hulk used the same criteria. And Thor, too. So, reflecting on her situation, Valkyrie decided that the only way to long and, if she's lucky, a serene sleep under the snoring floor above - that's where the snoring duo settled - would be to get properly wasted.

"Okay, guys, go to bed, and I'm gonna find some eatery and have a glass," said Brunnhilde, but her innate honesty made her change the wording somewhat: "Or rather, a barrel."

"Oh, I'm going with you!" immediately exclaimed Thor. The thermo-coat may have warmed up well outside, but alcohol in the right doses - here it is worth noting that the thunder god did not recognize units of measurement less than a liter - warmed you from the inside.

"Hulk too."

Two Asgardians stared at him with a look with which one usually asks: "Who, you said, did you kill, Holy Father?". Hulk never drank, he never needed: he had no problems with sleep, and depression and various stresses - apparently afraid to get smashed - diligently bypassed him. Besides, the avenger's stomach was able to digest a bullet, so what some alcohol could possibly do to him?

"What?" the avenger stared back at them. "Hulk not want to be alone."

"O-okay then," the Valkyrie replied a bit uncertainly. A very terrible thought suddenly occurred to her: what if alcohol will have an effect? Even when sober, Hulk is always looking for someone or something to smash, and under the influence of booze... Even if Dana breaks into all the grandmaster's accounts, this money will still not be enough to compensate for the losses. "And how do you generally tolerate alcohol?"

"Don't know, Hulk never drink before."

"Well, we'll find out this soon enough..." she muttered to herself. "Okay, follow me."

They went outside and they immediately began to ripple in the eyes of the number of light bulbs. Uinbjerg shone brighter than Broadway. It was getting dark here quickly, and fogs with snowstorms were not uncommon, so for the inhabitants of not only Uinbjerg, but also of Bluin as a whole, there was no such thing as "too many lights." You either walk along well-lit streets or bump into everything in bad weather. And bad weather does not mean frost, ice, blizzards and cloudiness - this is considered normal here, one might even say favorable weather conditions. No, bad weather in Uinbjerg is when the wind lifts into the air snow, garbage (and, moreover, together with urns), as well as children under the age of ten. At the same time, so much snow falls that you do not so much fall into it, as you dive, and the fog becomes so thick that it is not immediately possible to understand: you have already got out of the snowdrift or need to continue digging?

Thus, bright light bulbs on every corner was a necessary measure, if not for survival, then to reduce the number of accidents.

However, the harsh living conditions in some sense contributed to the rapid flowering of this planet, in particular the flourishing of its technological progress. Bluin has given the universe just a huge number of inventors. And it's not surprising. On Sakaar, for example, when a person wakes up and looks out the window, he sees (in addition to a mountain of garbage, of course) a bright sun and thinks: "Great weather, I'll probably go for a walk, and at the same time buy a ticket for tomorrow's fight." On Bluin, when a person wakes up and looks out the window, he either can't fuckin' see anything because of the snow that has flooded the window, or sees an ever-cloudy sky, and at the same time a thermometer on which the scale with a sign of + (or at least 0) is simply absent. What do you think this person thinks: "Oh, what beautiful weather, I'm going for a walk!"? No, he thinks: “It's fuckin' freezing outta there, I'll probably go and invent something.  Desirably, something that won't let me freeze my balls when I go to the store to get bread." It was the residents of Bluin who first invented heaters, removable heat carriers, thermo-clothes (a special 'thanks' to them for this) and a lot of everything, one way or another aimed at not to die of cold.

But perhaps Brunnhilde's most beloved invention was the Higilga - a transparent liquid, the recipe for which - to the great regret of the Asgardian woman - was never printed on the packaging. This liquid was not whiskey, nor was it gin, but its strength, judging by the sensations, was no less than three hundred degrees. When the Valkyrie used to live in Uinbjerg, this tincture helped her a lot in those moments that sometimes arose in the middle of the night, when she woke up in a cold sweat after a nightmare and could not remember who she was and where she was. After just one glass of clear liquid, the Valkyrie still did not remember who she was and where she was, but it did not matter anymore, because she was becoming a completely different person.

Brunnhilde had no idea what the drink was being driven from, but she knew for sure that it was available in every institution on this planet: be it a third-rate eatery, a posh restaurant, a store or an elementary school. Therefore, as soon as the Valkyrie's gaze caught the blinding-eye sign with the image of a mug, she immediately dragged the two avengers inside.

The tavern was warm and smelled of greasy fried food, alcohol and smoke, in general, it smelled exactly as it should smell in taverns. The people inside were having fun. Well, or for what passes for fun, if you work all day in an office or at a factory - after a ten-hour day of monotonous work, anything will seem fun. As soon as the door closed behind the trio, everyone turned their heads to them, giving them a glance of honest workers, which said that it would not rust for anyone here to slam you with a chair or something heavier, if anything, and then throw your poor body into the nearest snowdrift. Although, as soon as the turn came to the Hulk, all the heads immediately turned back.

Brunnhilde strode towards the bar. Thor and the Hulk followed her, sitting on her right and left. The bartender silently handed the menu to the newcomers. The three of them immediately plunged into reading. As the Valkyrie thought, Higilga was here. Moreover, there was a separate list of drinks based on it. These cocktails were called beautifully, like "Hot Ice", "Blue Haze" and so on, although given what was in these cocktails as a basis, the name "Ta-Ta, My Poor Brain" would be more suitable for all of them.

Well, if scoffing at the body, then scoffing to the full, decided Brunhilde and silently poked her finger at the familiar name.

"Same for me,” said Thor, who had no idea what kind of drink it was.

"Hulk too!"

The bartender nodded silently and placed three large Higilga mugs in front of them. This tincture, like any drink in which it appears, had to be served either in a glass or in a wooden dish due to the fact that it worked with iron. The Higilga could clean spoons.

We shall definitely buy more of it on the road, thought the Valkyrie, taking a small sip from her mug and immediately feeling her tongue, throat and, sooner, stomach burning. Maybe at least this liquid will help peel off the pan Thor used to cook. Shel took another sip and grimaced. No, the pan won't take it.

"I have a toast," Thor exclaimed, raising his cup. "For our first intermediate station and for the first documents of the people of Asgard!"

After these words, Thor brought the mug to his mouth and drained it in several large, continuous gulps, loudly hitting the counter at the end with it. All those present, who had previously watched him with bated breath and counting his gulps, now looked at him as if he had just performed at least three miracles before their eyes.

"Nice drink," the thunder god praised the bartender with a smile, and held out an empty mug. "Another!"

"You liked it?" asked the bartender with huge eyes, taking the empty vessel. It was not only that Thor drank more than a pint of the tincture without choking. But the bartender was literally struck by the fact that he was still upright and, apparently, was still alive.

"A little thick and gives off acid, but in general, pretty good thing."

Refilling the mug with Higilga, he handed it to Thor. From the outside, it looked like he had just presented Thor with a prize for winning some incredible competition. The god began to destroy the second portion, but at a bit calmer pace and not in such large gulps. Everyone, including the Valkyrie, continued to stare at him, dazed, as the bartender wondered what his stomach was made of and concluded that it was most likely made of the same material as his teeth were.

Having drunk about half of the second Higilga, the thunder god put the mug on the counter and began to pull off the thermo-coat.

"It's getting kind of hot…” he muttered, getting up from his chair to hang his clothes on a hanger.

As soon as Thor's feet touched the floor, all visitors were convinced that in front of them was a living creature of flesh and blood. His whole body suddenly froze and began to fall. The tavern has never seen such an impressive collapse. The thunder god fell backward slowly like a gigantic tree. No bending knees, no touching tables on the way to the floor. He simply went from vertical to horizontal position in one geometry-perfect movement.

The visitors, along with the bartender, breathed a sigh of relief and returned to their business. The Valkyrie looked at the Asgardian for a while, and then, when she was convinced that this dumbass was still breathing, albeit not as loudly as usual, she returned to her mug, drinking its contents in small sips. The Hulk has shown incredible prudence in following her example, and not the example of his brother in sex.

Higilga quickly did her job. Within a couple of minutes, Brunnhilde felt that she was beginning to stop being a Valkyrie, and was becoming someone… someone drunk and very happy. However, the brain immersed in an alcoholic bath still managed to gurgle a signal that made her turn to the only sober (at least for now) member of their group with the words:

"If this thing doesn't work on you," she pointed her finger at the almost untouched higiliga, "take us to the hotel," some more gurgling came from the alcohol bath. "Please."

Chapter Text

While a certain Valkyrie and a certain avenger were pumping themselves up with alcohol, in one of the hotels a certain trickster and a certain demigoddess slept peacefully. Although, it is unlikely that their dream would have been peaceful, if these two had known that they were separated from each other not by a huge distance, as they would like, but by only one wall. Whoever was in charge of the coincidence today, he definitely had a sense of humor, and it was definitely black.

Dana woke up because she felt thirsty. She threw off five blankets from her naked body and lowered her bare feet onto a fluffy carpet, the thickness of which would easily hide an entire tribe of pygmies. Many tourists, checking into hotels, are very surprised when they find there carpets covering every centimeter of the floor even in the bathroom, a huge number of thick blankets, because of which the bed resembles a cube, a maxi-bar filled to the brim with booze with a degree of at least fifty (on Bluin, drinks are either hot, or alcoholic, or milk) and a stack of books, magazines and other waste paper, on top of which there is a large pack of matches. However, everything becomes clear if, during their rest, the heating system is suddenly broken. Then the unfortunate tourists fully realize the need for these items, which make up ninety percent of the mandatory set of "Keeping ourselves warm any way possible" for all hotels (the remaining ten percent were contraceptives in the bedside drawer).

Not bothering to turn on the light, the brown-haired woman walked towards the small refrigerator. Taking out a bottle of milk, she filled a glass with it and went out onto the balcony, not even thinking about wearing at least something. What's the point? There is no use in her clothes in such cold weather. And the fact that someone could see her did not bother her: she was never shy about nakedness. It was almost impossible to confuse Dana, but she often confused everyone around her. It was a kind of hobby. In terms of morality, Dana surpassed even cats, falling so low that, having made an almost full turn, she was about to start falling again from above.

Besides, who will see me, anyway? flashed through her head when she looked down. My room is on the eighth floor.

Drinking milk, she surveyed the city. Even though it was clearly night now, it was light in Uinbjerg. It all sparkled from bright signs, lights, lanterns and lights of passing or flying cars. Her hotel was also sparkling. There was more light on the balcony now than in the inside of the room. Thinking about how she now looks in the silvery light of the many tiny lanterns above her head, Dana smiled smugly. She must have looked mesmerizing. She even felt sorry that there was no one to watch her. And not only to watch...

I really should find myself someone with whom you to tumble in bed, she thought, sighing. She hasn't had sex for more than a week. This will not work. I’ll deal with this tomorrow, after I speak to Brunnhilde. And we will probably need to sneak around the shops... 

The sound of the neighboring balcony door opening distracted her from further reflections on her plans, but only for a second. If she allowed herself to be distracted by every sound, her life would be much more hectic. But when a minute later a gust of wind literally pushed a familiar smell into her nose, Dana immediately switched from thoughts back to reality.

You've got to be kidding me, flashed through her head, as soon as she saw her neighbor. She froze with her head turned to the god of lies and a glass of half-drunk milk in her hand.

Loki, contrary to his expectations, woke up not in the morning of the next day, but at night of the same day. Given that he felt quite rested, the trickster suggested that the nights on this planet were much longer. Going out onto the balcony, he found out that despite the fact that the whole of Uinbjerg was glowing, it was a night time now. What else he found out was his bad luck.

Although, he thought, moving away from the momentary shock at the sight of his neighbor, another one in my place would hardly consider this to be bad luck.

Loki seemed to be frozen with his feet to the floor, unable to look away from the picture in front of his eyes. As much as he disliked Dana, the trickster had to admit that she was, as Benner once put it, gorgeous. Outwardly, for sure. She lacked the sophistication or elegance he had seen during his life in Asgard. Dana was, rather, the opposite of these two concepts, more like a savage than a lady. However, she was incredibly appealing, possibly because of her “wild” beauty. This woman just exuded sexuality. Dana could seduce (or harass) just staying quietly in the next room.

At the moment she was more than a pleasant sight. Thick, chocolate hair glistened in the light of the tiny lamps, and steam radiated from the smooth, swarthy skin. The trickster suddenly remembered their little fight a few days ago and how he had grabbed her by the leg. Remembered the feel of her skin under his palm. If even then Dana seemed almost hot to him, then what would he feel if he had touched her now...

A sudden gust of wind helped Loki get rid of the obsession, pulling the trickster's hair into his eyes and slightly parted mouth. When he pulled the tangled strands back, the subject of his observation was already staring back at him with her large yellow eyes. As far as the trickster could tell from the way the dark eyebrows twitched, the woman was also surprised to meet him.

And here they started their favorite game again - gazing. This time it was harder to withstand the gaze of the cat-like eyes, because Loki's gaze now and then strove to sink lower. He knew he was staring openly at her for almost a minute, and he knew she knew it. Even the most advanced minds cannot always beat hormones. Only the reluctance to give this woman another victory and truly divine endurance did not allow the trickster to break eye contact.

She's not even trying to cover herself up, the thought flashed through his head. The fact that Dana was not a shy person Loki realized the very next morning after they first met, when the woman showed up in the kitchen wearing nothing but a towel. And her manner of communication - especially with the Valkyrie - also said a lot. But to stand so calmly, while being completely naked, and even in front of a strange - well, okay, familiar, but not very well - man... - Is she really not at all embarrassed?

No, Loki immediately found an answer to the question himself when Dana, as if nothing had happened, raised a glass to her lips and began to drink what remained in it, without breaking eye contact. When she finished, she licked the remaining liquid from her lips and, turning, walked slowly back to the room, leaving the trickster alone with his own thoughts.

***

Meanwhile, at the "Foam Mug" tavern, evening — or rather, night — had just entered that interesting phase, when everyone drank too much, but still not enough to drop dead. Although, Thor, still lying on the floor after drunk in few gulps Higilga, did not fit into this picture a little.

In fact, about fifty of the inn's patrons were now busy stumbling and kicking while performing the Snake Dance. The performers had to get drunk as fuck, grab the waist of the one staying in front and, thus forming a long articulated crocodile, they had to jump-stumble, filling with a deafening cackle and making unpredictable turns, through as many rooms as possible, preferably containing battered objects. At the same time, be sure to throw your feet in an uncertain direction to the beat of the rhythm of the dance. Or at worst to the beat of at least some rhythm. In such dances the main thing is to constantly move your legs. At least some steps will definitely turn out to be correct.

And the Hulk was trying to get drunk. This required incredible efforts from him, but the results were obvious. He no longer had the desire to destroy everything that moves (and that doesn't move either). Anger - his constant component - was also hardly felt. On the contrary, the Hulk felt better than ever. Apparently, pints of corrosive liquid got to the nerves and dissolved them completely.

"What else should happen in this case?" the avenger asked the bartender, after draining another mug.

"How many servings did you drink?" 

The Hulk hesitated. Higher mathematics went into action.

"Forty-seven," he summed up after several minutes of careful counting.

"In that case, almost everything can happen," replied the bartender.

"Hulk is drunk, right?"

"I serve anyone who can maintain a more or less vertical position."

"Then Hulk want more!" the avenger put an empty mug in the counter.

Without further hesitation, the bartender refilled the wooden vessel with booze, putting another "+" sign in the notebook. If everything goes on this way, then by the end of this night he will collect a week's proceeds.

***

Smiling, Dana was basking in the bath, the water in which was separated from the boil by some couple of degrees. The room was hot, like a sauna. The smartphone, finally charged again, was filling the room with Ray Charles's baritone. A pleasant aroma was emanating from the lit candles placed around the room. The woman felt amazing.

The meeting on the balcony, contrary to common sense, also contributed to this delightful well-being. Dana considered herself an independent and self-sufficient woman  who did not need anyone else. However, there was one snag: you have to boast of your independence and self-sufficiency in front of someone. People who don't need anyone need people around them to see that they absolutely don't need anyone. Besides, the type of attention she received an hour ago raised her already high self-esteem. The fact that it was a trickster only reinforced the effect. It is simple to put a stranger into a stupor, but making someone who can't stand you speechless with just the way you look... you have to be damn good to do that. And Dana definitely was.

He clearly liked what he saw. She saw how he looked at her, felt how his scent changed. She knew exactly what effect she had. Now, scrolling those few minutes in her head, Dana felt a warmth rise in her. Not the kind that comes when she uses her magic, but the very warmth she feels when she's around someone she finds attractive. It was the heat that originates somewhere in the lower back, pulls into a knot in the abdomen and then causes goosebumps on the back of the neck. Dana closed her eyes and exhaled noisily, throwing her head back. How long has it been since she last experienced this feeling... In this case, "long" was defined as a little over a week.

Yeah, better not to delay the search for a partner, the woman thought. If the attention of this trickster makes me feel this way, then everything is much worse than it seemed at first. Last thing I need is to get to the point of starting thinking about him in this way. However, if we met under other circumstances... she tried to imagine how everything would have gone if they had met, say, at one of the Grandmaster's parties. Dana imagined. Then laughed to herself. Then presented another option and laughed as well. All the same, nothing would have changed. Only I would be free from contemplating his physiognomy for about two more months. 

Throwing the trickster and other thoughts out of her head, Dana reached for one of her many bottles and started soaping her hair, singing along to Ray Charles in her phone.

***

For Loki, the night has passed ... Well, the night has passed, and thanks for that. He never managed to fall asleep again, partly because of the sounds from the next room: first there was music, and then some kind of humming thing turned on. However, when everything was quiet, it did not help him much. The brain, damn thing, had enough time to rest and again began to work on all eight cylinders.

Loki always had a lively imagination. However, after the incident on the balcony, it seems to have decided to start living on its own. Dana, who already popped up in the trickster's head more often than she should, this time settled down there for the night, and she obviously forgot to bring clothes with her. He had to add there Hulk, Hela and a couple of other personalities who did not cause much delight in Loki in order to somehow distract himself.

Damn this woman, thought the god of lies as he ate breakfast. It was early morning, which meant that most of the local population had long awakened, swore at the fuckin' cold outside the window and went to work, or back to bed, or to the garage to invent something else. Loki quickly learned to distinguish locals from tourists. It was not difficult at all: the natives of Bluin had fair complexion and high height, were either brunet or blond, and the color of the eyes ranged from transparent blue to deep dark blue. Another distinguishing feature was that they always carried a small wooden barrel, the size of a flask, and something made trickster think that the liquid inside it was far from tea, much less water. Speaking about tea...

Loki called the waiter and ordered another cup. He had no idea what they were making this tea from (or if it was tea at all), but it tasted great. Unfortunately, the same could not be said about desserts. The trickster loved sweets. All types: biscuits, baked goods, ice cream, sweets. Especially chocolate ones.

Imagination immediately hastened to throw into the common cauldron of thoughts something else that was "sweet" and chocolate, and also hot. Loki swore to himself again, or rather, swore the one whose image floated before his eyes. Again.

Damn this woman, the god of lies thought for the umpteenth time in the last 24 hours, pushing the memory away. Even at a distance, she manages to spoil my mood.

***

Brunnhilde woke up - and immediately regretted it.

For the last couple of thousand years, the hangover has been her most loyal companion. The Valkyrie, while gaining experience as a drunkard, managed to feel on her own skin, probably, all possible kinds of this condition, which can be described by elephants dancing on your head, drought in your mouth and so on. However, the hangover that comes after the Uinbjergian higilga is a species that cannot be described.

Right now she felt as if her teeth had dissolved in acid and all this nasty stuff settled on her tongue, throat and stomach, and she preferred not to even think about the state of her head now. It’s hard to think when there are only three convolutions left in your brain, and even those are cutting corners. 

She was extremely thirsty. But in order to get to the water (or any other liquid, except for the higilga), it was necessary to get up, and her body was not yet capable of such feats. She couldn't even open her eyelids.

Meanwhile, while Brunnhilde was laying on - she tried to concentrate on sensations - the floor, the minutes of innocent freedom came to an end and three unfortunate brain convolutions began to reproduce the events of yesterday evening, albeit in no particular order. Valkyrie remembered the common dance, if it could be called that, remembered how she tried to juggle... she couldn't remember what exactly it was... then she remembered her solo dance with a sword and a chair, as well as a couple of other her actions, which then seemed logical to her and funny. And then she was struck in the head by the realization that she was going to watch her friends (Thor, who had quietly lain for a certain time unconscious in a corner, by the middle of the event got well and joined the general fun) in the eyes, only today she is sober, and they are sober, and most importantly - both she and they remember.

Having made truly titanic efforts, Brunnhilde managed to open her eyes. The first thing she was convinced of was that she really was lying on the floor, or rather on the carpet. Second, this carpet was clearly not in the tavern. So the Hulk did managed to retain enough intelligence and coordination to carry her to the hotel. Somehow standing up and looking around, the Valkyrie noticed both the green avenger, napping across the bed, and Thor, who was also thrown on the floor not far from her.

Brunnhilde was an experienced drunkard, and therefore did not even try to get to her feet. She just crawled towards the bathroom. It was possible, of course, to crawl to the bottles of water, but, firstly, in order to reach the box in which they lied, she would have to get up, and secondly, even if she somehow managed to get what she wanted, Valkyrie wasn't sure her brain could send the correct signal to her fingers to open the bottle. Better to drink water from the bathtub tap: it's much easier and she will wash her face at the same time.

The water, of course, could not remove the sediment left by the Higilga, but the Valkyrie felt that if she tried to say something, then the chances that not only wheezing, but also words would erupt from her throat, increased at least threefold. And after washing the face, keeping her eyes open became much easier. Seeing these very eyes also began to be much better, and therefore the Valkyrie was not only able to notice the clock, but also to focus on it and see what time it was. And when she succeeded, she almost recovered from the hangover naturally.

Oh shit, flashed through Brunnhilde's head when she remembered what had happened before the binge.

It was lunchtime. Just when she was supposed to stand in the parking lot and discuss plans with her friend. The brain helpfully reminded its owner that this very friend is Dana.

"Oh shit..."

Chapter Text

Dana could be called patient with a stretch that this word would not have withstood. She knew how to wait (lionesses also know how to wait for their prey, even if they are very hungry), but this was by no means due to patience. Rather, it was persistence. Dana could wait (sometimes even long enough), if she knows that eventually she will get what she wants, and if she is made to wait, she will make it come to the end as she wanted, even if for this she has to omit heaven to earth.

And where is she hanging around? The woman thought, glancing at the phone for the sixth time. Or rather, where is she lying around?

Brunnhilde was late. Although, it may seem strange to some: how can you be late for a meeting scheduled not for a specific time, but for aa “afternoon”? "See you in the afternoon" - it can mean almost anything! For barely familiar people, this is definitely true, but when you have tolerated someone (who tolerates whom is always a controversial question) for thirty years, such seemingly abstract concepts acquire quite concrete meanings. In the case of this couple, afternoon was a time interval that begins at the moment of Dana's normal awakening - that is, somewhere around noon - and ends with the lunch break of the rest of the population (it all depends, of course, on the place, but most often it means about two o'clock in the afternoon). Now it was not two o'clock in the afternoon, therefore, Valkyrie was late for an afternoon meeting with the best friend.

While Dana remembered Brunnhilde with an unkind word, she was approached by one of the parking workers.

"Is there anything I can help you with, ma'am?" he asked.

The woman squinted her eyes in his direction and quickly looked from head to toe. Man the ordinary, she decided to herself, judging by the pale skin and bright blue eyes, a native of Bluin. Cute. If Dana was in a better mood now, she might have shown more interest in him.

"You can bring me some hot chocolate."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, yes, there is no such thing here..." there was a regret in her voice, besides irritation. "Okay, then bring me some hot milk."

"Excuse me?" he said again.

"And why does it always get so hard for men…” the woman breathed in. "I. Want. Milk." she said clearly. "Bring it."

"Excuse me, ma'am, this is not really what I do,” the man replied politely. "I simply help visitors."

"Then help me as a visitor to get a cup of milk. This task is definitely simple."

"Excuse me, ma'am, but I'm not a waiter, ma'am, I'm a parking lot employee."

"And do I state otherwise?" Dana arched an eyebrow. "You offered me help and I accepted it, so go right ahead. And don't make me wait, I've already had enough of that."

"Ma'am?" the man looked at her with the confusion of a first-year schoolboy who strayed from the common herd during a school trip.

"You men are truly idiots... " the woman sighed wearily. "Milk. Hot. Go."

"I'm not a waiter, ma'am,” the worker said again.

"Are waiters the only ones on this planet who are capable of holding dishes in their hands, or what?"

"Um, no, but..."

"But what? Nobody pulled you by the tongue. You have to answer for your words, so be a good boy and just bring me the damn milk!" the irritation in her voice grew to such an extent that it covered the sarcasm. "Now."

The man quickly set priorities. It's better to let his pride hurt than himself. And the employee did not doubt that he could suffer in one way or another. This woman showed with all her appearance that continuing to irritate her would be as sensible as, for example, putting your hand in an aquarium with piranhas. Therefore, the man immediately left in the direction of the nearest place, where milk could be found.

Dana followed his back with a displeased look... and with the very same displeased look met the Valkyrie, who entered the same doors behind which the parking worker had just disappeared. Brunnhilde, apparently, felt from where and who was looking at her, and went to her friend. It is worth noting that the world has seen a better gait. For example, in the performance of penguins or a company of soldiers-newcomers who do not denounce "right" and "left", and also are deaf in one ear.

As soon as Brunnhilde, without any aerodynamic grace, fell into a chair next to her friend, Dana immediately winced at the simultaneously unfamiliar and familiar smell. Alcohol. It was not the first time for a woman to see and smell a drunk or hungover Valkyrie, on the contrary, it was her most natural state (it was much more unusual to see her sober during the last days). Although, such a smell of alcohol Dana had never met. Apparently, her friend decided to restore her acquaintance with the local culture with local drinks. Judging by the state in which the representative of the elite armed detachment of Asgard was, the shortage of local drinks, if not yet, will soon come.

"You look like shit," Dana greeted her friend.

"And feel the same way," Brunnhilde somehow managed to articulate her words into a response. "Sorry for being late."

"Just how much booze did you gorge, sweetie? Anyway, you don't have to answer, I doubt you are able to remember that. I take it, you can keep me company on a shopping trip only as a dead weight. Though, even if you could move normally, I don’t think that I would drag you with me: if only you knew how you stink right now..."

"Thanks for your kind words, friend,” the Valkyrie quipped. "You, I remember, wanted to talk?"

"And do you want to listen?" 

"Right now I don't really want to live, but do I have a choice? Your displeasure is the last thing I need. And this city too..."

"You're kinda late, sweetie, my displeasure has already arrived and made itself home."

"I've already apologized, haven't I?" Brunnhilde said in an unhappy tone.

"An apology does not change what has already been done,” Dana replied. “For that matter, nothing can change what once happened."

"Isn't there too much pathos for simply being late?"

"I was speaking in general," the woman said. "This is a very interesting topic, by the way. I, at one time, spent a lot of time studying this issue."

"And?" asked the Valkyrie.

"And learnt it. With my magic it was relatively easy, albeit energy-intensive. I constantly heard the phrase: “You cannot change the past,” and at some point I became curious, why? Although no, at first I was wondering if that was really so, and only then came the question "why?"

"And?"

"And what?"

"And why can't you change the past?" Brunnhilde asked. Dana loved being listened to (she considered anyone who was able to listen carefully to her for about half an hour to be a tolerable interlocutor), and if there was even a tiny chance that the next lecture would slightly improve her friend's mood, the Valkyrie was ready to suffer a terrible migraine.

"Because the past presupposes that something has been accomplished, and therefore, this something is forever imprinted in time and space. You can try to change the future, but not the past. You cannot undo what has been done."

"But what about time-traveling?"

"And what about time-traveling?"

"You, as it turned out, not only went to another galaxy, but also three decades ago. So you changed Sakaar's past. And mine, probably, too."

"I didn't change it, I created a new one."

"Isn't it the same thing?"

"Of course not," Dana replied. "Call it an alternate past, if you wish. Have you ever heard anything about the butterfly effect?" Valkyrie shook her head in silence. "The whole point of it is that a little intervention has huge consequences. Something like "what goes around, comes around." Anyway, what it's all about... Certain events - and almost all, to be honest - determine what turn will take your life at the fork of the future. In fact, the future is the only thing we can change. The present is the most incomprehensible part of all three times: what is "now"? How do you define it? How to measure it? Is the present what's happening to you in this second? Well, there's hole in this plot: the second is made up of milliseconds, and it turns out that there will always be past milliseconds and future ones in a second. So, then the present is what's going on at the moment? In that case, how do you measure this very moment itself? Is there any unit of time that can measure the moment, and the very concept of "present" along with it? I was trying to figure out the smallest unit of time, by the way. So far, the shortest is the road second, but who knows..."

"The road second?" Brunnhilde asked again.

"Yeah. It equals the amount of time passed between a green traffic light and a hoot of a car behind you. When you go for a ride... I mean, when you stand in traffic jams, you will understand what I'm talking about."

"Weren't we talking about the past, what do the present and the future have to do with it?"

"They have everything to do with it," the woman answered. "Times cannot exist one without the other. There are either all three of them, or no time at all, understand?  And the most interesting thing is that even considering all these, we can only be in one time - in the present. In fact, I have never been in the past or in the future. Nobody was and never will be."

"You've just confused me to no end," Brunnhilde admitted. "You told me yourself that you travel through time and space."

"Yes, but "traveling through time" is not the most suitable name for it: "traveling through the present" would do better, as for me, although it doesn't sound that pretty. After all, as soon as you move to another point in time, it immediately becomes your present, and being in this present, you can only change the future. And not even completely change, but rather choose, because no matter which of the forks you go, the rest of the roads will not disappear. And if, after a while, you return to this very fork and choose another path, the trodden path will still not disappear, because you have already walked along it. As a result, no matter how many years ago you go back, no matter how many times you come back and no matter what choice you make, you always act only in the present and change only the future, not the past. It's just that one day this future becomes your past, your another past," Dana sighed, ending the story. "Now it's clear?"

" So, in this hyperspace of yours there is... a time-line, shall we say, in which you did not appear in my life?" clarified Brunnhilde. "In which you have never appeared on Sakaar?"

"Exactly."

"And even if you go back and dissuade yourself from retreating to another galaxy, the past will still not change?"

"Yep."

There was a short pause, during which Brunnhilde tried to figure out what to reply to this.

"Wow," the Valkyrie couldn't find a better answer. "And how much time did you waste to get to the bottom of this?"

"Not that much," Dana shrugged. "I was then obsessed with the idea of getting to the bottom of the truth of the universe - essence of creation, if you wish - I wanted to know where it all began, how, why, how the whole world works... Curiosity then played to its fullest, just like hormones."

For a while they sat in silence, unless, of course, the clatter of hundreds of feet, hundreds of voices, the sounds of technology and other noises of the parking lot could be called silence.

"And?" the Valkyrie broke the quiet.

"And what?"

"Did you get it? To the essence of creation, I mean."

"Almost. I had to stop myself."

"Were you afraid that you could not get to the final end?"

"Rather the opposite, actually. I was afraid that I would get there."

"That's rather... weird argument, don't you think?" sometimes Brunnhilde thought that her friend was not all right with her head.

"Not at all. There must be a mystic in life," the woman shrugged her shoulders, "something that you do not know in order to maintain interest in this very life. Moreover, knowledge is power, and an excess of power can turn one's head. In the worst possible sense. And that, I don’t need."

"Then why were you doing it in the first place?"

"Told you, curiosity was eating me up."

"Your curiosity must be a hell of a thing," the Valkyrie muttered under her breath.

Dana chose to remain silent (which was surprising in itself). Brunnhilde was right. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but the curiosity that Dana felt about the mysteries of the universe would have been enough to brutally deal with a whole pride of lions. This character trait never let her get bored, no matter how many years passed. The longest trips start with the phrase “I know a shortcut”, but the most interesting ones start with questions like “What if...?”. And the woman asked questions constantly. And she was constantly looking for answers to them, with such an enviable persistence. And all because of the damn feline curiosity...

Someday, my curiosity will ruin me, she thought. Dana was more than sure of that. Someday the question "What if ...?" will arise in her head again. Someday she will become obsessed with this feeling again, only this time she will not be able to stop and will go to the final end. And that is when her own end will come. Someday, but not now. 

"Well, since you managed to stand my lecture about time and travel,” the woman began with a sly smile, “you can definitely stand the shopping trip. And on the way we will discuss what I planned to."

"Oh no, not this..." the Valkyrie sighed doomedly.

"But first thing first, you must take a shower. What hotel are you staying at?"

Brunnhilde had no choice but to surrender and come to terms with her unfortunate fate. Who knows, maybe her friend will manage to scrape together a little pity from the corners of her black soul (if she had any soul at all), and they will drop by on the way to some pharmacy...

The parking attendant, however, was in mixed feelings. On the one hand, he was terribly glad that this terrifying woman had finally disappeared. But on the other hand, what should he do now with a bottle of milk, for which he ran across the whole street?

Chapter Text

Life in the palace may have had certain advantages, such as extensive chambers, no less extensive cellars in which a whole regiment of cavers could easily get lost, and a staff of servants, which was inherited along with the reserves of the aforementioned cellar (servants rarely paid attention to who is their master now, and sometimes they did not know at all; kings come and go, but the dust remains), however, it was far from as idle as it is accepted to believe, and sometimes not as long as we would like. In Asgard, monarchy reigned and family ties were key when it came to status and office. And given that the Asgardians were distinguished by a really long life, advancement in the social and career ladder was slow, and therefore everyone took it for granted that younger aristocrats often sought promotion through white slippers, that they put on their competitors. For many years, natural selection in its purest form has established that only those royal dynasties survive whose members are able to determine the presence of a night assassin by rustling, with which the assassin, being skillful enough, never accompanies his movements, as well as those who are capable of  determine whether by eyes or smell if any additives such as arsenic, cyanide or snake venom are present in the drink or meal. The skill is dictated by the necessity. All aristocrats were innately suspicion, for they were all descendants of people (in the broadest sense of the word, of course), who survived precisely because of absolute suspicion and complete paranoia. It is not surprising that most kings at some point go crazy and start chopping off everyone's heads. With such a life, not every nervous system can withstand...

However, crazy kings do not stay alive for long: when the nerves and patience of their subjects cannot stand, they get the insight that there is only one king, and there are many more of them - subjects. Someone will say that a crowd of unarmed peasants will not stand up to armed soldiers, no matter how evil and big the crowd is. But do not forget that the "unarmed peasants" in this case consist of subjects who may not wield a sword, but are accustomed to peacefully and legally wielding cleavers and stakes every day, compared to which a real sword looks like a hat pin. You must agree that "unarmed peasants" is not the most accurate description of a hefty butcher with a long hook in one hand and a carving knife in the other. And garden pitchforks also become a formidable weapon if thrown from above.

In general, the royals are not particularly enviable. Continuous intrigues, assassination attempts, discontent and, as a result, chronic lack of sleep and nervous breakdowns.

No wonder the monarchy on Midgard is almost exhausted, Loki thought. If all of the above concerned the Asgardians and many other nations, much more persistent than humans, on Earth the royals must have died faster than they had time to wear out a couple of boots. Now, remembering all the "delights" of palace life, the trickster realized how stupid he behaved a few years ago. Apparently, it is true that some people, having gained strength and power, become stupid, considering that he was willing to spend so much effort to become a king. Meaning, Asgard, where the monarchs were treated perfectly while they remained in their minds, yes, but Midgard... Loki fully realized the absurdity of this idea after a short communication with the population of this very Midgard. Becoming the king of people like Stark, the Hulk, that wizard in a red cloak, or - it was scary to even think of it - Dana, and deal with them every day? Hell no! There were much more tempting prospects in this world. Prison, for example. Or Jotunheim. Let's get at least the very same Ragnarok.

The trickster sighed. Yeah, let Thor be in charge of royal affairs - the god of thunder got the dog on not noticing all those royal "delights" that were happening under his nose during his life in the palace. Loki no longer sets his foot into the monarchy. Or a hand. Or anything else. Enough with him, it's time to take care of the nervous system.

Life in the hotel, on the other hand, also included quite spacious rooms, the availability of a variety of food and drinks, and no less staff of service. But most importantly, here you could relax. And such an opportunity does not happen often. Therefore, Loki, unlike his neighbor, did not feel any eagerness to leave the hotel and go to explore the city or shop. In addition, Uinbjerg, like all Bluin in general, did not cause any delight in the trickster. Endless snows, forests, mountain slopes and in some places civilization meets - that's all the sights here. Too much this planet resembled Jotunheim (except for the part about forests and civilization), and he felt about his homeland about the same way that most people felt about passport desks, free clinics and utility bills.

Loki spent most of the day in his room, lying - or rather sinking - in a bed covered with a pile of thick blankets, reading books and other printed stoves for the fireplaces, and also sending the staff to the kitchen for tea every two hours. It was somewhat reminiscent of his imprisonment in Asgard, only now he was deprived of the need to contemplate his neighbors in misfortune. Here the walls were normal, that is, they had no hint of transparency. And in one of the walls there was a door through which one could exit at any time (although most often this door was used by a hotel employee, who had already managed to bring at least one and a half liters of tea into the room). If Loki deigns to leave the hotel, then, perhaps, only in order to redeem all supplies of this magnificent drink.

Thoughts of maybe the only trickster’s tasteful thing on this damn planet was interrupted by the sound of the door of the next room slamming and the following: “Settle down, sweetie, and throw the bags on the bed”. Dana is back. And, it seems, not alone.

Loki sighed doomedly. What the local walls did not differ, it is good sound insulation. He heard almost everything that was going on in the next room. Last night there was music and what could well go beyond the music, if you stretch this concept to the verge of its possible limits. Then there were sounds resembling the work of a small thermal jet engine (what it was and what it helped with remained a mystery for the trickster). Then again the music, but already louder. And then the door closed and came the long-awaited silence. Which has just come to an end.

"Shit, how many wires are there? It's crazy!"

"No more that in your flying piece of iron."

"Perfect thing to compare: an air transport and a bedroom!"

"What can I do, sweetie, when there is not a single socket in the bathroom! I had to dry my head sitting on the bed. What were the local designers thinking about?"

"Probably about how not to let the newcomers freeze to death and... Oh, the bar!"

"Life doesn't teach you anything at all, does it? You've just recently gotten a bit better!"

" And as soon as I empty that bottle of... what is written on it... I will have gotten a hell better!"

"If you vomit in my room, I'll get you to the hell myself."

Loki did not have the slightest desire to listen to this noise beyond the wall, and therefore put the book aside and, not without regret, left his room, heading for the elevator. Now was just the right time for dinner.

***

The first thing Thor did after his awakening was giving himself a promise to never again, under any circumstances, touch the Higilga. He always believed that the strongest booze is... or rather, was in Asgard in Odin's wine cellars, but it could not be compared with the liquid (or acid?) that he was served yesterday in the bar and which he unknowingly, out of stupidity (as, indeed, almost everything that he did in his life) drank in just few gulps. Thor's awakening was one of those moments when the stomach thinks for you and it decides: it would be nice to vomit. Only now there was nothing to vomit with, except that the internal organs, including the very same stomach.

The second thing he did was going outside in the hope that the cold air will help him recover faster. The idea was successful. The only thing, it was not so much the air that helped to recover, but the ball flying over it, which hit the thunder god right in the back of the head.

Turning around, Thor saw a small area, free of all kinds of buildings, where a group of boys stood. The average age in years was somewhere around eleven, as for the god of thunder. And if he knew the local punks a little better, he would also know that their average age in units of cynicism and cunning was about one hundred and seventy years. Harsh climate - harsh people. However, Thor did not just look at the world through pink glasses (recently, however, they had to be changed to a pink monocle), but also listened to it with pink ears and perceived it with a pink brain, and therefore saw the boys not as small robbers and growing up bandits, which they were for most of the residents of this courtyard, but as ordinary children, maybe a little gloomy, who went out to play.

Loki and I used to play together too. That was fun... Thor thought, smiling. However, in that time the two of them were the only ones who had fun. If children were weapons, him and Loki would be banned by an international convention. Odin was busy almost all the time, Frigga in the hands of the children was turning into pliable wax, and if Loki could still be told something, then the duration of Thor's attention was minus a few seconds, except when it came to fights or penetrations into the armory warehouses of the palace - that's when he could be extremely attentive and patient. The rules established by numerous governesses existed only conditionally. Thor did not just break them - he did not leave a single piece from the rules, and Loki, who even as a child already possessed the cunning of a millennial, always found a bunch of loopholes that allowed him to break the rules without actually breaking them, and thus avoid punishment. This extended to both home teachers and teachers in the magic school. However, the teachers there, having extensive experience of working with children of all statuses, characters and ages, very quickly realized that the phrase "No one is allowed to open the closet with magic accessories" is not always an understandable prohibition for children. The prohibition should be carefully thought over and paraphrased, using a clearer wording, for example: "No one, Loki, no matter what, even if someone thought that he heard cries for help, no one, Loki, do you understand me, is allowed to open the door of the closet with magical accessories, or accidentally fall on the handle so that this door opened, or promise to turn the favorite sword of Thor into a snake, if he does not open the door, or stand next to the closet and wait for the mysterious wind to suddenly blow out of nowhere and open the door of the closet, honestly-honestly-that-is-exactly-what-happened, and no one - it means absolutely no one is allowed to open, become the cause of the opening, ask someone to open, to jump on the floorboards so that the closet opened, or in some other way try to get into the closet with magical accessories, did you understand that all, Loki?!"

Memories of childhood distracted Thor from the real life, and he did not immediately notice that one of the boys separated from the group and unhappily drills him with big blue eyes.

"Hey, will you return the ball?" the preteenager finally spoke up.

"Huh?" it took Thor a few seconds to get back to normal. "Oh, yes, of course. Here. What are you playing?"

"Snow football."

"Why here?" Thor scanned his surroundings. These were the outskirts of the city, very close to the tall blue trees, which in some places grew so closely to each other that even a slender a child could hardly squeeze between them. "Not a very safe place for the guys, as for me."

"But with the playground," the boy shook the preceding. "It's not easy to find a spacious flat area here fore actually playing the ball rather than chasing it. And about safety, the main thing is to escape before it gets dark."

"Yes, you can freeze all your limbs at night."

From somewhere on the side of the impenetrable blue thicket there was a low howls.

“And that's in the best case,” the guy added.

The boys who remained on the site, as if on command, went to the backpacks lying in the snow.

"Are they wolves?" Thor asked.

“If by wolves you mean big, angry, toothy creatures that can easily bite through your skull, then yes, they are definitely them,” the preteen replied. "Although we call them bergs. Don't worry, at the moment, not a single case of an unprovoked attack by a berg on a person has been officially registered."

The next howl was heard more clearly. Either the bergs howled louder, or they were closer.

"And in order not to spoil this wonderful statistics, I suggest that we go home," another boy interjected into the conversation. The guys were slowly but surely moving further from the forest and closer to civilization.

"I agree," the boy with the ball nodded and was about to set off after the others, when he suddenly slowed down and turned to Thor. "You, um...  you can come, you know, if anything. We usually get together here at noon."

The thunder god, in whose ass childhood has started playing again, smiled broadly and saluted.

"Sure!"

***

There were much more people at dinner than at breakfast, and everyone, as luck would have it, wanted to chat, laugh, and a couple of tipsy guests were even drawn to sing, and this was despite the fact that there was already live music here. Loki, trying to ignore the noise, scrutinized those present, trying to determine the species and - damn habit - the possible threat. Most of the visitors, judging by external data, were the indigenous population of, if not Uinbjerg, then Bluin as a whole. There were also a couple of families with pink complexion. In fact, the color scheme was the most notable of those few distinguishing factors. For some reason, most of the alien lifeforms were not very different from each other, if you do not take into account the color of the hair, eyes and skin tone. Interesting, isn't it?

Having seen enough of the various sources of noise, Loki turned his attention to the reason that made him originally come here - to dinner. Apparently, the attitude to food in Uinbjerg was the same as in Asgard, the unspoken motto of which was: "Vitamins are nothing, calories are everything." Only if salads were sometimes found in Asgard, then Bluin, most of whose flora was represented by huge blue pines, delighted visitors with a huge selection of meat, fish and poultry. In general, vegetarianism would obviously not stand the tiniest chance here.

The trickster began to think again, and these thoughts were again about the future. Earthly products. Finding suitable territory for the new Asgard is half the trouble. There will be no particular problems with construction work, given that there is enough labor force (more or less qualified), and the materials will just need to be purchased. Food, on the other hand, was a more complex issue. Unlike the nearly flat Asgard, the Earth was round and had several different climatic zones, each with a different flora and fauna. Loki did not know the details of what were where. He also did not know the peculiarities of earthly trade relations. About political relations (and they matter a lot in any way), he did not even stutter.

If come to think of it, none of us really know anything about Earth, he suddenly realized. All our knowledge boils down to the fact that the local population is called humans, these humans live no longer than a hundred years, outwardly similar to us and that they do not represent danger for us, the Asgardians, and therefore we should not pay special attention to them. That, basically, is all that Asgard knows about Midgard. Well, and recently it is still known that humans have acquired so called Save-the-world team. No specific or useful information.

This made Loki think again about whether it was really a good idea to choose Earth as their new home, given the fact that none of them really knew anything about it. However, if we continue to think in this direction, the only worlds about which the Asgardians had more or less complex view were Vanahheim and Jotunheim. The first  - because it was Asgard's closest ally. The second - because it was Asgard's closest enemy. And because Jotunheim was considered an enemy, the Asgardians knew about it even more than about Vanahheim. However, of course, neither in Vanahheim nor, even more so, in Jotunheim, none of them will be trampled upon. First, no one knew the road to Vanahheim, because everyone always used the services of Heimdall and Bifrost. And secondly, even if by some miracle they get to Vanaheim, its resources simply will not be enough for the normal provision of both the Vans and the Asgardians. In addition, both peoples were avid monarchists, and two kings for one world... And why Jotunheim is not considered an option, it was not even worth talking about.

As a result, what remains is Midgard with its vast territory and people who, after a series of certain events, are no longer particularly surprised by anything.

And what also remains is a hell of a lot of unknown information and a hell of a little time to study it, added the trickster to himself. I wonder if Thor ever thought about this at all when he was going through the options? Silly question, of course not. I' doubt he even considered other options besides his beloved Midgard, sometimes Loki wondered how his older brother even managed to live so long, being direct, honest, benevolent and noble in all his actions, because in the real world such behavior is considered stupid, and the survival rate of such idviduums was no higher than that of a three-legged hedgehog that jumped out onto a six-lane Autobahn. However, then the trickster recalled a couple of other qualities of his brother, and the question disappeared by itself. One of these qualities was the right-hand hook, which even the Hulk learned to respect. In addition, Thor, like Dana, possessed a certain charisma, but if in the case of a bitchy woman this charisma boiled down to incredible sexual attractiveness, then the thunder god seemed to charm people. He sincerely believed that there is a particle of goodness in everyone, and to disappoint him in this was like kicking a puppy. As a naïve child, so he remained. Only now he has a crown on his head.

Loki came to the conclusion that if the Asgardians can delve into the peculiarities of life on Earth after arrival, then he and Thor need to learn the basics right now in order to know what to do. In any other situation, the trickster would have gathered some supplies and camped in the palace library, which he would not leave until he found the answers to all the questions needed. Only there was no library on the ship. Of course, in some rooms there were some books, but none of them contained a single word about the Earth. In the local network - he checked - there was a lot of information about many planets and peoples, however, given the "closed nature" of Midgard, he is unlikely to be able to find the necessary information in the Bluin's network or any other planet's.

So, there were only two sources of information: the safe one and the bitchy one. And given that the safe source was now temporarily unavailable due to sudden greening, there was only one option left. And oh, just how much trickster didn't like it...

Loki was distracted from further thoughts by some changes in the general atmosphere. Firstly, some suddenly stopped chatting and stared somewhere in the direction of the door. Secondly, someone whistled. The god of lies followed their gaze.

Speak of the devil... thought the trickster, looking at the "bitchy source of information." His gaze slid from the face a little lower, and he immediately regretted it. From yesterday's outfit of Dana the only thing that survived were suede boots. Jeans were replaced by a short black skirt, and a sweater - by a blouse of the same color. Moreover, the last one was clearly lacking buttons on its top. The clothes themselves could not be called ‎obscene, but on Dana they looked exactly that way. On this woman, even a monk's attire would have looked the height of obscenity.

Dana settled down behind the bar, crossing her barely covered tanned legs and thereby causing a wave of sighs, especially among the local population, for whom mini-skirts existed if only in fantasies. Loki saw her lips move, and the bartender, taking his eyes off the neckline of her blouse, fiddled a little at his workplace and put a large cup in front of the woman with something hot, apparently, inside of it and then put a plate of cookies sprinkled with powder next to it. Dana dipped the cookie into the cup and put it in her mouth. And then she began to lick the rest of the powder from her fingers.

The trickster again felt like he was on the balcony, unable to look away. However, he was not alone here. All attention in the hall was now riveted on Dana. What struck her most was... everything. Absolutely everything, Loki suddenly realized. From facial expressions to posture. If the trickster knew how to appear effectively, then this woman knew how to effectively present. So effectively that everything else was lost on her background.

Not wanting to give the woman another "victory", Loki closed his eyes and turned away. However, his imagination, which recently began to lead an independent life, did not have eyelids, and therefore it stared for nothing. However, there was no need to even imagine too much, it was enough just to remember yesterday's evening on the balcony. And now, the memory was helpfully sending the imagination images of a naked, swarthy body with seductive roundness and shiny hair. And the imagination, in turn, added additional effects to this erotic show, such as new scenery and soundtrack, accelerating the pulse and forcing the blood to rush where the trickster did not want it to rush.

"Why are you so red?" a familiar female voice sounded in front of him. "Got drunk?"

Loki opened his eyes and looked discontentedly at the Valkyrie that had sit near him. She, fortunately, was in no hurry to change her ammunition to some depraved outfits.

"No," he answered shortly and, getting up from the table, went to the exit. "See you later."

All the way to his number, Loki was making incredible efforts to hold his own imagination and memory in place. Never before in his long life had it been so difficult for him. The trickster has always prided himself on his self-control and the ability to be friends with his own head (one of the rarest kind of friendship, by the way). And now everything was going to hell. And all because of some impudent bitchy pest...

Damn this woman, he thought for the umpteenth time in a day, falling on the bed. Damn her...

Chapter Text

Dana was in one of her favorite places - in the center of everyone's attention - and was happy. She felt dozens of eyes on herself, inhaled the smell of pheromones, listened to subtle languid sighs and did not even try to hide a smug smirk. For all the time that the woman spent on the spaceship, she has already managed to forget what it is like when you are literally devoured with a look, while being mentally undressed.

An incident on the balcony popped up in her head, but Dana immediately pushed the thought away. That case doesn't count. It was unlikely that the trickster then undressed her with his eyes: she was already wearing what her mother gave birth to.

The woman raised a cup of hot milk to her lips and sipped a drink, glancing across the hall, mentally noting the pretty faces. With one - or a couple - of them, she intended to have some good fun tonight.

"Choosing a victim?" the Valkyrie sat down on the bar stool next to her. After one hand gesture and thirty seconds in front of her, a large mug with a frothy light brown drink appeared. 

"A victim?" Dana arched an eyebrow. “Rather, a partner for tonight. Or partners."

"Yeah, your libido can be calmed down only by a direct hit of a meteorite," muttered Brunnhilde, taking a long sip of alcohol. "And I'm not sure even about that."

"And yours, apparently, has long been dead, inveterate and buried," the brown-haired woman looked with displeasure at the mug in her friend's hands. "You do understand that you still have to return to your hotel, which is more than a stone's throw from here, don't you? Of course, I know that drunkenness is your natural state and that you never get used to walking, crawling or navigating a ship while being in such a shitty state, but in this city there is knee-deep snow - chin-deep snowdrifts - and where there is no snow, there is ice, and the visibility is so-so..."

"I was actually hoping to sleep in your room today," the Valkyrie interrupted her.

"And I actually hoped today not to sleep in my room, but to do something more interesting," answered her friend. “And my experience of friendship with you suggests that you are unlikely to keep me company in such activities."

"Your experience suggests correctly,” the Valkyrie took another sip and suddenly frowned in puzzlement. "Since when do you take your partners to your place?"

"Firstly, this is a hotel number, not my place. And secondly, since the trickster, well known to both of us, lives in the next room."

Brunnhilde choked on her alcohol and coughed. When the attack passed, she raised her head and stared at her friend with round eyes in surprise.

"Have you settled nearby?" the brown-haired woman silently nodded, chewing cookies. "What the... How d... Why? I mean, you can hardly put up with each other, why settle in the neighborhood?"

"It happened accidently."

"Then why don't you just change you room?"

"Me?" Dana looked at her friend as if she were insane. "So, you're saying, it's me who must adapt to him? Dream on, sweetie. I was the first to settle there. If anyone moves, it is him."

"Is that why you're going to lead the boy - or the girl - to your place?" Brunnhilde asked. "To make him move out?"

"Perhaps."

"You do understand he will remember it to you, don't you?"

“It won't be necessary,” Dana took another sip of milk. "All the sex in which I take part is unforgettable. And after more than a week of abstinence, all the more... So, I certainly won't need any reminders."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

The woman just grinned and threw the last cookie into her mouth, immediately licking her fingers soiled with powder. An indignant: "Hey!" was heard from the side. That was the bartender who, being captured by the view, poured two hundred milliliters of Higilga into a glass of only a hundred milliliters. Clear liquid, of course, poured onto the counter. After about ten seconds, there was a hiss. That was Higilga which got to the teaspoon and entered into a reaction (or rather, into a duel) with the metal. The winner was obvious.

Brunnhilde looked at her best friend with displeasure. The smirk on Dana's face grew even more self-satisfied. She felt the way they were looking at her, sensed with her sharp smell what chemical reaction she causes to the majority of those present, and if she now says that this does not bother her at all, then this will be, perhaps, her biggest lie. Dana loved to be in the center of attention, loved when she was listened to, when she was desired, and she loved the level she was able to achieve in the art of achieving all of the above. She always suspected that the ability to seduce was given to her so easily, because from the very childhood in her arsenal there were many various tricks with which she tried to attract the attention of her relatives.

And none of them worked.

Her brother, however, did not have to invent anything or make any effort. For him they always had time. And love.

"Dana?" there were restless notes in Brunnhilde's voice.

"Hmm?" the woman immediately returned from the world of dreams to reality.

"Is everything alright? It seemed like... like you left this world."

"If I did, then my body would have left it as well. I'm telling you this as the one who really left this world, and the other one, and another...

"Understood, no need to continue," the Valkyrie interrupted her. “Again, this is not what I meant, and, again, you know it."

They both fell silent for a while. The Asgardian woman silently drank the Bluin's equivalent of earth beer, while Dana finished her milk. Both the smug smirk and high spirits were gone.

When the drinks ran out and they both had nothing more to occupy their mouths with, the brown-haired woman decided to break the silence.

"Do you still want to get drunk?"

To say that Brunnhilde was surprised is to say nothing. Her friend did not tolerate alcohol very well, and although she could safely accommodate several liters of booze in her body, a couple of bottles even of not the strongest liquor were enough to get her completely drunk. No, of course, she and Dana had drunken parties more than once, but the brown-haired woman drank more for company or on some special occasion, such as a holiday, funeral, wedding, divorce, and so on. Moreover, Dana was never the initiator of drinking.

"I always do,” the Valkyrie replied, stopping further speculation about possible reasons. If her best friend wants to get drunk, she will gladly accompany her. Brunnhilde in any way did not enjoy sober state since the very day when the regiment of Valkyries turned into a mountain of corpses, why should she stop now?

"Let's go, then,” the woman jumped off the high chair, straightened her skirt and walked from her hip to the exit under admiring glances and sighs.

Brunnhilde hurried after her. If she was upset that she did not receive the same ardent attention as her friend, then she did not show it.

"But what about the plan "Get rid of a neighbor with loud sex"?" she asked, equating with Dana.

“I’ll save it in case the plan "Get rid of the neighbor with loud booze” does not work,” the woman replied, and the corners of her lips slightly lifted again. "Besides, I cannot allow you, while being drunk and all alone, to go to the other end of the city, especially at night, can I?"

"Not long ago you didn't care much about that..." Brunnhilde muttered under her breath barely audibly.

Dana pretended not to hear. Brunnhilde pretended to believe so. Of all the people, she knew very well that her friend's keen ears caught and made out every single sound.

***

Loki was sleeping and, to his great fortune, he was sleeping dreamlessly. Unfortunately, this dream did not differ in duration.

And all because in the room next room what began as a harmless friendly drinking binge, smoothly, but rather quickly, slid down the slope towards the "chaos" stage, after which it fell right into the abyss called "complete fuck" and, in the end, struck the bottom in it.

How the trickster managed to sleep through the first two stages remained a mystery to him. However, something told him that he succeeded in this miracle thanks to that incredible speed with which stage number two grew into stage number three.

Damn this… Loki listened attentively… no, it was unnecessary to listen attentively in this situation, he just heard another familiar voice and hastened to correct the thought that came up more and more every day, … these women. Why the hell can't they sleep, these two damned beasts? Scums... "

"These women", to whom the trickster in his mind continued to ascribe obscene, but extremely colorful expressions, which described in detail the outstanding features of their inner world and character, as well as some assumptions about the species of their relatives... in general, "these women" obviously drank everything that was in the maxi-bar, because Loki could not imagine any sober creature that could be the source of the sounds that were coming from the next room.

"Talk to me, baby... sing along, swee-hic-tie... I'm going blind from... hic... this sweet-sweet craving..."

"Whoa-oh!"

"Let's lose our minds and go... hic... fucking crazy!"

"Ah ya ya... Ay, fuck. wires!"

"You should look under your feet... hic... cake by the ocean!"

"Walk for me, baby... uh, shit, don'trememberwhat'snext..."

"Oh, fu... hic... that, justsingsomething... and go fucking crazy!"

"Ah ya ya ya ya."

"I keep on hop... hic... We'll eat cake by the ocean!"

"Red velvet, vanilla... shit, I'm gonna vomit now..."

"Not... hic... on my carpet! Chocolate in my life!"

"You missed a line... oh shit..."

"Told you... hic... not to mix the drinks. Now... hic... torture yourself."

"And as for me... it's not the variety of drinks, but the fact that we... dance too much..."

"Come on... hic... we dance just fine! Don't you go selling me... hic... better move your hips... I keep on hop... hic... 'll eat cake by the ocean!

"Stop spinning... it's getting me carsick... I can't stand this your... mamba..."

"Samba. And this is ch... hic... dance! Let's lose our minds and go fuck... hic... crazy."

"Did this song go on the second round?"

"No... hic... already on the third."

"Goddamn..."

"See you licking frost... hic... from your own ha..."

"Shut up already, you there!" one of the neighbors could not resist. Apparently, he was from the room on the floor above.

Loki groaned mentally.

Shit... Who the hell was pulling you by the tongue? the trickster addressed the man in his thoughts. This bitchy malevolent will not shut up now in principle, just to spite you - and all of us too. Couldn't you just wait a bit, you dull creature?

Loki totally called it. The music stopped abruptly. But for only a few seconds, then it played again, only this time twice as loud. Those few seconds, apparently, were needed to switch one song to another and rewind a little forward, so that, as the trickster guessed, to give the neighbor upstairs (as well as everyone else in the neighborhood with a more or less normal hearing) an understandable answer.

      Fuck you (Fuck you), fuck you very, very much
      'Cause we hate what you do
      And we hate your whole crew
      So, please don't stay in touch

Then two drunken voices joined the soloist, which, if sometimes did hit the notes, then only by pure chance. Loki was glad that the upstairs neighbor was understanding and decided not to risk another attempt to shut up noisy friends. The smartest option in this situation would be to just wait. The nights on this planet, as the trickster had already made sure, were much longer than usual, so he would have time to sleep well. These two drunks will not last until morning, not at such a pace.

Loki tried to abstract himself from the noise (in this matter he has become quite adept lately, and if everything continues to develop this way, then by the end of their journey, he will be able to give a head start to Heimdall with his equanimity) and played in his head some of those great booze... that is, great palace fests that used to be held in Asgard. He did not dwell on the part where long speeches were made, as well as small talks and attempts to move up the social and career ladder (even if the attempt was successful, this did not make the fest any worse: on the contrary, there appeared a couple more reasons to raise a toast), and immediately rewound the tape to the place where all the guests were in about the same state in which the Valkyrie and her bitchy friend were now.

So, the trickster recalled, Thor usually stayed in this state for three or four hours, after which he fell asleep face down in a plate “carefully” slipped under him by his younger brother. This means that Loki had to endure all this noise at most for several hours, after which the drunken women behind the wall would fall asleep in drunken sleep, and at his disposal there would still be about eight hours before the morning. And in the morning...

In the morning there will be a surprise for someone, thought the trickster, smiling. Those who have already seen this smile on his face would rather quickly hide in some safe place: in a neighboring galaxy, for example. Let's see if you have as much fun tomorrow as you have now.

***

The morning for Brunnhilde came somewhere closer to lunch-time, as well as the previous one. She felt terrible. As in the previous "morning", again. Today's hangover, of course, was not as bad as the one after Higiliga (even the Valkyrie with her body hardened by hundreds of years of alco-trainers did not dare to drink this liquid two days in a row), but on this its pleasant features ended. The head was buzzing, throbbing and felt as if it was full of cotton wool. The throat was gutted. She was really thirsty. Even the tongue seemed dry. Eyes... or rather one eye, when it was finally opened, looked at the world as if through a sweaty glass.

Usually, after awakenings like these, the first thing people say to themselves is: "I will never drink again." However, Brunnhilde knew herself far too well to claim such things.

She closed her eyes and tried to decide what she wanted more: to fall asleep, thereby delighting her aching eyes and head, or to drink, thereby relieving the suffering of her throat. She had no desire to leave the soft bed, but the dryness in the throat was persistent. With an agonizing groan, the Valkyrie tried to force herself to get up. The bed was warm, even hot. And it wasn't thanks to the quality of the blankets. Brunnhilde listened to the deep, even breathing behind her. Dana was better than any heating pad.

Somehow getting out from under the blanket, the Valkyrie got to her feet with a little uncertainly and, without opening her eyes, tried to get to the bathroom with the help of only her memory and touch. A couple of times, she nearly screwed up, catching on a bunch of wires from the chargers, but still reached the goal. Groping for the sink, the Valkyrie turned on the tap, scooped up water in her palm and took a couple of sips. She had to do this simple procedure five times before her tongue came back to life and her throat was no longer desert-like.

When the thirst was quenched, the Valkyrie again scooped up water with her hands and washed her face a couple of times, hoping to drive away drowsiness. Then she reached for the towel. Wiped her face. Opened her eyes. Looked in the mirror. Closed her eyes. Opened them again. Looked at her reflection again. And screamed.

"What the hell?!"

Not that the reflection in the mirror was unfamiliar. Oh no, quite the opposite, actually, it was very familiar, one might even say, almost native. The Valkyrie knew well everything: this thick dark hair, and these neat eyebrows, and this swarthy skin, and these beautiful lips, and these rather attractive facial features, and especially these large golden eyes with an oblong pupil. From the mirror, Dana's face looked at her, taking on a shock expression she had never seen on this face before.

"What the hell..." said the Valkyrie more quietly this time, and suddenly realized that her voice had become deeper. And it was not due to her state.

She took a few steps back, not taking her eyes off the mirror. From there, Dana was still looking at her, clearly now she could make out a crumpled and half-open black blouse. The Valkyrie stared in shock at her... the hands. The skin was a bit lighter and the nails were longer. She looked down and found, in addition to the black blouse, that her breasts had noticeably increased.

It can't be… Brunnhilde closed her eyes in despair and pinched herself, but when she opened her eyes, nothing changed. It can't be happening in real…

"M-m-m... the fuck did you make such a fuss that early in the morning…” came a displeased hoarse voice, whose owner, apparently, was heading for the bathroom.

Asgardian immediately jumped to the door, opened it and almost collided with her forehead... with herself. In front of the Valkyrie, sleepily rubbing her eyes stood herself.

She couldn't think of anything better than to scream again.

***

Meanwhile, in the room next door, Loki had never been so happy to wake up to the sound of a woman screaming. He stretched lazily and took a sitting position. A smug smile shone on his face.

It seems the spell did not dissipate during the sleep, he thought, not without joy. Perfect.

When the scream rang out again, the trickster's smile widened. It has been the best morning in the last few days, even if lunch was already approaching.

Chapter Text

To cope with the morning panic and finally stop yelling, the Valkyrie took about seven minutes, during which Dana had time to take a shower (“take a shower” includes: washing off yesterday's cosmetics, washing face, brushing teeth, washing her head and body; all procedures are made at the same time, so it is very important not to get confused in numerous jars and tubes), take headache pills and activated charcoal from the table, which she, fortunately, had found in her bag before the booze began, and was now busy with trying to figure out how many pills should be given to the Valkyrie, given that her body is many times superior to that of an ordinary person and of Dana herself.

I think two packs will be enough, the woman decided and began to unpack the pills, folding them up a hill. It was better not to look at the date of manufacture of these medicines. So-o, now all is needed is something to wash it all down with... preferably something that does not corrode your stomach. Seriously, the local booze can be used instead of ammonia: it is not inferior either in smell or in strength. Even surpasses. 

Taking a bottle of milk out of the fridge and grabbing a glass from the shelf, Dana sat down on the sofa next to her friend who had been crazy since the morning. She poured milk into a glass, thrust it into the Valkyrie’s hands, and nodded toward the pills.

"Take these. It's for you," Dana herself treated medicines like any cat: that is, she could not stand them at all. Therefore, she preferred to wash down her hangover with the remaining milk in the bottle. About half a liter remained there. However, these half a liter dried up very quickly: Dana destroyed dairy products with the same speed with which Brunnhilde did alcohol. "Of course, I understand that a hangover now is the last thing that worries you, but nevertheless, the pills will not make you worse,'' remembering when she threw these medicines into the bag, the woman hastened to add: "At least, I hope on this."

"Right now, I’m worried about two things,” Brunnhilde began, tossing a handful of pills in her mouth and drinking them milk. Having swallowed, the Valkyrie grimaced: she did not like milk since very childhood. "First, why do you need medicines in your bag if you never take them anyway? And second, why the hell are you so calm?"

"I don’t carry medicines for myself. Specifically, these pills ended up in my bag because the class teacher has to celebrate graduation with the students. When I saw how much booze they had packed with them, I immediately realized that the night would be fun. Plus, graduation was on the ferry, so if you - all of a sudden - get sick, I still have loads of nausea and motion sickness pills. In short, a horde of alcoholic Red Ribbons was then under my responsibility, so I took various medicines with me just in case. Rather, just in cases."

"Well, that explains where you got twenty packs from. But you know, the second question, perhaps, still worries me more."

"You are worried about my calmness?"

"Exactly," the Asgardian nodded. "Shock or at least surprise were not even expected: I doubt that you at least remember what they feel like. Panic neither."

"Stop listing what you didn't expect to see," the brown-haired woman said. "Closer to the point."

"Patience is not your strong point either," the Valkyrie murmured, and immediately received a disgruntled look. "That's what I expected of you. Indignation. Anger. I thought you were going to start tearing and throwing."

"Why would I?"

"Are you serious? Dana, we exchanged our bodies! Doesn't it bother you at all?"

Dana rolled her eyes. Brunnhilde was not a stupid woman, but honestly, sometimes she was openly dumb. Just like now. It was definitely time for her friend to quit drinking: alcohol, it seems, decided to leave alone the nervous system and began to destroy her brain. Although, coming to remember what kind of panic the Valkyrie fell into this morning, she no longer had any nervous system at all.

"Let's start with the fact that you and I didn't exchange bodies,” Dana finally said. "You are you, I am me. And we are both here and now. So, as you can see, everything's okay. Well, mostly."

"But…” the Valkyrie looked down again. Her skin was still lighter, her breasts were still larger, and the same black blouse covered her breasts. Brunnhilde pinched herself again, but everything was still wrong. "But, Dana, I now look like you, and you - like me."

"Yep, exactly."

"You and I have somehow exchanged..."

"Why are you stuck on the body-exchange!" Dana interrupted her. "We just clarified the situation."

Brunnhilde stared at her like a student at an unlearned ticket. Or like a chemistry student who suddenly found "philosophy" on his schedule.

"Really?" the woman asked in the voice of a geography teacher, who suddenly discovered that some students needed to be explained where the compass is north and where is south. "Yeah, sweetie, your Asgardian kinsmen clearly have a bad influence on you. So be it, I'll try to explain it again. How did you feel when you woke up?"

"You were about to explain, not asking, weren't you?"

"This will make it easier for you to understand. Answer the question. How did you feel when you woke up?"

"I felt shitty," answered the Valkyrie.

"Be more specific."

"My head cracks, my eyes hurt, so does the throat, my mouth feels like a desert, I am sleepy and thirsty, but while deciding what of these two I want more, my bladder also comes into the game... in short, I felt the way I usually feel after a big booze..."

"When did you feel that you were, shall we say, "in a different body"?"

"When I saw my reflection in the mirror."

"So, you're saying that you looked in the mirror and felt like you were in someone else's body?" Dana replied. "What was that feeling like? As if you were wearing unusually narrow clothes?"

"I wouldn't say... This was... I wouldn't call it a feeling. I just looked in the mirror, then I looked at myself to check if I was hallucinating. I even pinched myself. Nothing has changed, so I realized that everything was real."

"Didn't feel anything out of the ordinary, then? Wow. It's truly amazing how well and quickly you've adapted to life in "my" body, which is so different from yours."

"We're not that different," Valkyrie said displeased. She didn't like her friend's tone at all. It made her feel like an unthinking child. "I mean, okay, skin, hair, face, eyes... Um, curves... but we're the same height, we both have two arms, two legs, one head and one and the same insides."

"Oh yes, and we both have very sharp hearing, sense of smell, eyes with increased sensitivity to light and no less sensitive skin," Dana added, without even trying to hide the mocking notes. "That's why I, even being in "your" body, can hear so well how the maid swears in the room upstairs, hear this annoying high-frequency squeak every time the doors of the elevator open, and hardly wince from the smell of alcohol. Oh, how could I possible forget what similar structure of an organism do you and I have?" when the woman saw her friend's awkwardness, she softened herself a little. "Trust me, sweetie, if you really were in my body, you wouldn't need a mirror to understand that."

"Then what happened?"

"An illusion. You were right, you look like me now, and I look like you. Look, understand? You're not me in any sense, you just look like that. Your consciousness, your soul, everything remains where it was yesterday. And what you see now, looking at us, is nothing more than an illusion," Dana explained, adding to herself: A very artificial illusion, however. I didn't even feel him putting it on. Though, I drank so much yesterday that I would hardly even feel a blow to the head.

"Illusion?" asked Brunnhilde. "But don't they disappear when you touch them?"

"Not all of them," the brown-haired woman answered and settled down more comfortably. The Valkyrie, noticing this, immediately realized that another lecture was coming. “You see, sweetie, illusions differ. Those that are distorted or even disappear altogether, as soon as you touch them, are most often mirages. These are optical illusions created, let's say, "out of thin air." This is the very first level. What is usually started with. Of course, mirages are also different: some just stand still, others can move, and through high-level mirages, you can even transmit messages or observe the world. But mirages, whatever the level of complexity they are, remain immaterial. They cannot be touched by anything, and they, in turn, cannot touch anything."

"But..." the Valkyrie wanted to say that she could touch "herself" rather well, but her friend immediately honored her with a Look. It was the same Look, with a capital letter, which Dana usually gave those who interrupted her or in some other way caused her displeasure, and the fact that right now she was not looking quite like Dana did not soften the Look in the least. It was not threatening (at least not too much), rather intense - you suddenly feel that the woman has paid absolutely all her attention to you. It worked even better than sharp claws and threats. You wouldn't want to feel the Look twice on you. Though, you would not want to feel it even once. Realizing her mistake, Brunnhilde muttered softly: “Sorry. Please continue."

"So," the capital "L" disappeared from the Look, and Dana's attention again spread more or less evenly, "after the mirages there are more persistent illusions. And they are more persistent because they are superimposed over something. Of course, they also come in different difficulty levels. It is easier to impose an illusion on a stationary object than on one that is moving. The main difference between such an illusion and a mirage is that it does not dissipate after you touch it. Low-quality, of course, can be distorted, but those that have been made conscientiously show very... impressive results. As you, however, already managed to see for yourself," discovering that her friend continues to stare at her in silence, Dana made a vague hand gesture. "Now you can ask questions."

"That is what all this is,” the Valkyrie ran her hands over “her” new forms, “just an illusion superimposed over of my body?”

"Exactly."

"And what about the voice?"

"An illusion as well."

"But how? I mean… you can’t see it or touch it. How can you impose an illusion on something immaterial?"

"Sweetie, there are different kinds of illusions. Just like... I guess hallucinations would be the best comparison. Hallucinations can be visual, auditory, olfactory, gustatory, tactile, enteroceptive, vestibular, and motor. It is the same with illusions. The last three, by the way, are the most difficult, because you need to... influence from the inside, shall we say, ”Dana explained. "Your voice, just like your body, has not changed: an illusion was was simply imposed on it as well, only not visual one, but auditory. He did a similar job with your tactile senses," the woman sighed. “This damn trickster worked pretty hard."

"Was it Loki?"

"Do you know anyone else who owns magic?""

"You," Brunnhilde immediately replied, though she understood that her friend had nothing to do with what was happening. However, her mocking tone was pushing her buttons, provoking the Asgardian to speak first, and then to think.

"First of all, I wouldn't do that, and you know it very well," the brown-haired woman said. "And secondly, I wouldn't be able to do that even if I wanted to. Illusions aren't really my thing."

"However, you know a lot about them."

"Theory and practice, sweetie, are two different things. I am very well versed in magic as such, but that does not mean that I can practice... all the magic, you understand?"

"Um , I think so?" Brunnhilde said insecurely. She herself did not understand magic at all, as, indeed, most Valkyries. She was a warrior, not a magician, and throughout her long life she managed to create just one single illusion: at the very beginning of her military career, when she was non-stopped shouted by senior Valkyries, when she was forced for years to practice blows on mannequins filled with iron sand, she managed to believe that all people are made of this very sand. This illusion lasted until her first fight. Her real fight. Then she remembered again that all people, both friends and foes, were made of flesh and blood, and that both were very easily cut. Military science, unlike the magic, had no levels of complexity: its main - and only - goal was to make you a person ready on the orders to stab the sword into some poor fellow, who, as it happened, dressed in an enemy uniform. He's just like you, and you're just like him. He doesn't really want to kill you, and you don't really want to kill him. But if you don't kill him first, he will kill you. When there is steel and flesh, be the one holding the steel. This is the beginning and end of military science. You kill the enemy so he doesn't kill your friends, who in turn will one day save you.

Remembering the end of her military career, the Valkyrie struggled to suppress the desire to refill the glass, only this time not with milk, but with Higilga. Then Hela survived, and all my friends died. Now Hela is dead, but that hasn't changed anything. She's dead, yes. But so are they, she thought. Every time she remembered her fighting friends... not even friends - her sisters, she was overwhelmed by incredible anger. From this anger, she wanted to snap, crackle and pop, and Brunnhilde probably would have done so, only that anger could not be compared with all the grief that came with her. The red shroud of rage was covered with a gray shroud of sorrow, and when the Valkyrie looked at the world through those dirty brown lenses, it seemed so... ugly. Cruel. Unfair. Terrible. It was much better to look at such a world through the bottom of the bottle.

"... you don't hear a single word of what I'm saying to you, do you?"

"What?" the dissatisfied voice of a friend, which now sounded like her own because of a certain trickster, brought Brunnhilde out of her memories. "Sorry, I wasn't really listening. What did you say?"

"Many things," Dana replied, extremely dissatisfied with the fact that she was asked (albeit indirectly) to tell something, and then ignored. "If you are not interested, you could have told right away. My throat is now not in the right condition for repeating the same thing several times."

The Valkyrie was about to say something, like: "It has been in this state for at least thirty years," but changed her mind. After all, she did gave her friend a signal with all her intonation: “I, of course, understand - I'm not a complete fool, after all - but still, could you, please, explain it again? Just in case."

"I'm sorry. Can you please repeat once more? I was just... thinking."

"Thinking, you say..." Dana narrowed her eyes slightly. "Are you sure you were thinking, and not bumping into extremely unpleasant memories of your murdered sisters in arms?”

"You're such an asshole," Brunnhilde said benignly. For the woman opposite to her, the concept of "delicate" existed only in the form of a laundry regime.

"I've been called worse," the woman shrugged.

"I bet you've been."

"I already told you this before, and I am telling you now: they are dead. And that's normal. Every living being one day dies: someone earlier, someone later, but the end is already known at the very moment this “someone” becomes alive," Dana moved closer and took the Valkyrie by the hand. "This is how the world works, sweetie: a certain amount of time is meted out to each creature, and the less time it has, the more it values it. If people didn't die, they wouldn't live. If they didn’t live, they couldn’t change. And those who cannot change cannot learn. Thus, if there were no death, the world would simply... stopped."

"Movement is life,” Brunnhilde recalled an old adage. Grief and anger at the world were slowly relegated to the background.

"And life is movement," finished the adage Dana. “And you should also move on. Yes, the Valkyries were dear to you, very dear, but their time in this world is over. But yours is not yet. But it can be. At any moment. And how to spend the rest of this time, of course, is your own business, but in my opinion, grieving and getting angry at the world, drinking along the way in the hope of forgetting the reasons for these very grief and anger, is not the best option,” the brown-haired woman thought for a moment. “Besides, your sisters in arms, albeit belatedly, were avenged. As far as I could understand the culture of Asgard from our many conversations, revenge looks like a comforting thing to you."

"You're right, it looks," the Asgardian smiled bitterly. “During the war, we were always told:“ Do not look for consolation in the tears shed for your comrades, but look for it in the shed enemy blood," they said that it would become easier when you took revenge. And everyone believed in it. If only you knew how glad I was when Thor gave me this opportunity... And now, the scum that killed the Valkyries is dead. Enemy blood has been shed. They are avenged. Only.. it didn't get any easier. Not at all. Where, I wonder, is the promised consolation? Nowhere. There's none of it. All that I got from this revenge is a new portion of memories that I want to quickly drown in alcohol."

Dana did not say anything - the consolations were also not her strong side, or rather were frankly weak side - only squeezed the hand of a friend more strongly. What the woman could not - or simply did not want - to say out loud, she made clear with gestures. In her language, it meant something like, "Of course, you won't get a word of sympathy from me, but that doesn't mean I don't give a damn." A couple of seconds later, she twisted their fingers (translation: "I love you") and looked at her from under her eyelashes, batting a couple of times (translation: "You know this, don't you?"). Valkyrie only now noticed that the palm may looked just like her own, but was much warmer. Another gap in the illusion, along with the organs of vision, smell and hearing. Indeed, and how did she not pay attention to all this? So much of the elite warrior of Asgard... Looked in the mirror and panicked. However, there were some extenuating circumstances. She just woke up after a hen-sick booze. Her brain at that time was deprived of any ability to analytical thinking, or even was in a coma, and all the rest of her body, not receiving clear signals from the aforementioned organ, was just a bag of flesh, blood and bones, which could hardly be kept upright. And this... This is... Perhaps the best name would be "walking (somehow) misunderstanding" opens her eyes and suddenly discovers that the eyes are not really her own, but stranger's... or rather, familiar ones, as, indeed, facial features and everything else. What kind of calm reaction can we talk about in such circumstances?

"Now you are truly thinking," Dana said. The corners of her lips raised slightly. "And now, sweetie, let's decide what we want more: continue talking or go downstairs and have breakfast?"

"Did you want to say "have lunch"?" a smile began to appear on Brunnhilde's face too.

"I always say exactly what I want to say. I don’t know how it’s established there in Asgard... or rather, how it was established... ouch!" the Valkyrie nudged her friend with her elbow. "Be that as it may, for me breakfast is the first meal, not a meal within a certain time frame. So what? Chatter or concoction?"

"Chatter. I definitely need to put something in my stomach before it starts eating away at itself."

"Considering how much and, most importantly, what kind of alcohol you have poured into yourself over the past two days, I would be very surprised if your acids still have something to eat away at. For some reason, the local alcohol-based drinks are several times stronger than this very alcohol-base."

"Are we going to have breakf... to eat or not?"

"I am," Dana replied, and then nodded first towards the Valkyrie, and then towards the closet. "But it will not hurt you to put yourself in order. You, after all, now look like me after a loud binge, but you should look like me, who put myself in order after a loud binge. So, go ahead and make yourself presentable. I'll wait for you, so be it."

Chapter Text

Loki relentlessly scrolled through those few minutes of shouting, inarticulate exclamations and swearing performed by Dana... that is, it was Valkyrie, of course, but she yelled in the voice of her, as it turned out, less impressionable friend. The lack of such a reaction from the second victim of his trick, of course, was upsetting, but did not prevent the trickster from enjoying the result of the work done. And he did a hell of a work: first, he had to create his own copy to get into the room, then to see the details of the appearance (at least, the appearance of the Valkyrie; he did not have to watch Dana closely: her image with all the "details" seems to have decided to settle in his consciousness on the permanent residence) in the darkness, then to apply first two visual illusions, to fixate them properly, to fixate tactile ones upon them and then create an illusion upon the voices. And each of these illusions had to be of the highest quality in order to look and, most importantly, feel believable and, well, to last long enough.

Now, sipping his beloved Uinbjergian tea and remembering all the work he had done, Loki could not help feeling a little pride and a little... although no, quite a lot of complacency. It was one of his finest creations. In terms of illusions, at least. Mother would be proud. If not for the prank itself, then for its quality for sure.

It's been a while since I tried so hard, he thought, taking another sip. Usually, such efforts he made only when he intended to impress his mother or Od... father. Frowning slightly, Loki pressed his lips to the cup again. Mother was easier to impress, he added to himself. Probably because she, like Loki, loved magic, and therefore rejoiced every time her youngest son made progress in this area. His father, on the other hand, preferred martial arts to magic, and therefore showed much more admiration for Thor, who shares his preferences.

For a second, a traitorous thought slipped through the trickster's head: "Was this obnoxious woman impressed?" He immediately shook his head, throwing out such thoughts. No way! As if he has to care what this bitch thinks about the work done. Her assessment worries him in the last place... or rather, does not worry at all. He tried first of all for himself, and not at all in order to impress her.

Oddly enough, thoughts of the possible opinion of the Valkyrie - another "victim" - did not even fleetingly enter his mind. Despite the fact that both women were noisy, his attention... or rather - the trickster mentally corrected the flow of his own reflections - his lack of attention was directed only to one of them.

I wonder if she’s angry?  this thought passed the "censorship" in the mind of Loki, and therefore he was in no hurry to get rid of it, even though the object was the one about whom he in every possible way tried not to think. She certainly didn’t react as violently as the Valkyrie, but that doesn’t mean she’s not angry, does it? She must be angry. With her temperament...

Her image appeared before his eyes again... not the one from the incident on the balcony, but from their first fight. Reared thick hair, a face full of anger, a deep voice with growling notes and eyes constantly glaring at him, which seemed to be blazing from within with a golden fire. Well, and ten long, sharp claws, clinging to his hand and threatening to rip it to shreds. The angry Dana, in Loki's opinion, was a frightening, but, nevertheless, mesmerizing sight. And so far, he was the only being in the entire multiple universe who wanted to see this sight again. Wanted very mush. And who cares that making this woman angry is almost tantamount to getting into the cage of a hungry tiger and starting to pull its tail. The only difference is that there is still a chance to get out of the cage with the tiger, if not whole, then at least alive.

Not surprising that when the trickster felt their approach (he felt, of course, not so much them themselves as his illusions imposed on them), he was seized with an exciting anticipation. Children experience something similar on their birthday, waiting for the arrival of guests, who - of course, how could it be otherwise? - will give them gifts.

Hearing the door to the dining room open, Loki immediately squinted his eyes towards the entrance. It has been a long time since he felt such impatience. He noticed the women immediately. They noticed him as well. The two friends walked in his direction, and the trickster immediately prepared himself for the subsequent violent reaction. In one hand, which he held under the table, he materialized a dagger (you never know how violent the reaction can be).

All the joy and anticipation were mercilessly washed away by a wave of disappointment when both women suddenly turned left and, after walking another couple of meters, sat down at a free bed, chatting about something. Nobody seemed to be going on a rampage. Moreover, none of them even looked angry or even annoyed. The guests came, but instead of the expected heap of large gift boxes, the child received a bunch of greeting cards, and none of them had any money inside.

Loki could hardly refrain from making a offended grimace. Not fair. He tried so hard not to just listen to the screams behind the wall for a few minutes (not only was it performed by only one victim, but also not by the one whose indignation he was going to enjoy in the first place). Where is the resentment? Where is the anger? Where is the angry face and the furious eyes? Where is all that he was waiting to see?

Where is the response? The trickster continued his mental indignation, not taking his eyes off the dark-haired couple. They sat, chatting about something among themselves and did not even pay attention to him. And worst of all, they looked like nothing had happened. She… I mean, they should have been wild with anger, and they instead behave as if nothing had happened. Don't tell me that those few minutes of panicky screaming and cursing were all the response?  he remembered how Dana reacted to the fact that Thor was snoring, and to what he had done in the kitchen, and a couple of other incidents that happened after...  His brother did not get away with anything, and after all, he did all the above by accident, unconsciously, in a stupid way, while he, Loki, put a lot of effort. No, that's nonsense. This cannot be all. It is not in her nature to close her eyes to such a thing. There has to be something else. There just must be...

The answer fell on him as suddenly as the apple had once fell on the head of Isaac Newton. Or it would be more correct to say, like the shot of Iron Man in ... it seems, it was Germany, because it was his words that suddenly surfaced in the head of the trickster: "If we can't protect the Earth, you can be well damn sure we'll avenge it". Th revenge…

This is her response. Not screaming, not swearing, and it seems that not even the claws, which she loves to show so much, the trickster realized. He could not yet determine for sure whether he liked this realization or not. To see the angry Dana again, he certainly wanted madly (such a desire, however, itself is sheer madness), but to feel in his flesh ten reduced analogs of knives into which her manicure turns into he wanted much less. No, she's going to take revenge. She's going to come up with some trick in return. 

He gave them a quick glance. They all were still chatting with casual faces. Too casual, as for the trickster. A series of creeps quickly ran down hsi spine.

Unless she's already came up with it.

Loki looked towards the friends again, but concentrated his attention on Dana. Despite the fact that the illusions that the trickster put on the two women were of more than just "excellent" quality, even Thor would guess that something was wrong with the women. At least due to the fact that the Valkyrie usually sits on a chair, and not straddles it, resting her elbows on the back of it and with her legs wide apart. Loki had just noticed this. Due to loud snoring and, as a consequence, chronic lack of sleep for more than half of their group, everyone had their own schedule of the day, and therefore it was difficult to catch everyone together at the same time. Trickster manages to catch Dana in the kitchen about five times, but that was enough for him to realize that she didn't like just sitting at the table. However, she really liked to sit on the table. Or on one of the surviving kitchen cabinets. Once Loki even found her, eating some nuts, on top of the refrigerator. This woman definitely enjoyed jumping on different surfaces.

It is said that every person has a "highlight." Something that makes someone very different from everyone else. It can be some detail of appearance, character trait, demeanor: any noticeable distinctive trait. Dana's hallmark, this very "highlight," was... Herself. She was one big distinctive detail. No illusions, no matter how artous they may be, seemed incapable of "hiding" all its hallmarks. And it was not only about her habits or manner of communication. Just as Thor possessed some inexplicable charisma that allowed him to quickly converge with almost any people, Dana had no less inexplicable allure, which forced others every now and then to look at her, and passers-by - to turn their heads. At first, Loki wrote off everything on her appearance, but now, watching the cute chattering girlfriends, he realized that the appearance has absolutely nothing to do with it. No, of course, this woman had a seductive figure and a rather pretty face, but such a "set" is  common if not for most, then for many others, and some - in one way or another - got themselves an even better "set".

The trickster turned his gaze to the Valkyrie. She now looked exactly like Dana: the same thick chocolate hair with a golden tint, the same facial features, the same curves, even the same clothes that the woman was wearing yesterday. Every part of the illusion has been perfectly finished, down to the smallest detail. And yet... something was wrong. And this was felt not only by Loki, but also by all the others who were present here. Last evening, these people could not take their eyes off the swarthy woman in open black clothes, and admiring sighs were heard throughout the hall every now and then. Now, those present cast the same glances towards the woman as well, only this time the one that was hidden from throat to toe by the Valkyrie's ammunition. No, of course, the woman in black was also gazed at every now and then, but most of the attention was still paid to the second one.

Loki also looked at her and, to his surprise, felt that he could not take his eyes off. He again felt that incredible attraction, despite the fact that Dana was now not like herself... No, on the contrary, Dana was very much like herself. This was exactly the point. Somehow, this woman remained herself, even when she looked completely different. Even if Loki had turned her into Malakit, she would still attract everyone's attention, like a magnet attracts iron. And all because the allure of this woman, everything which attracts and at the same time repels, which draws other people's eyes, which makes her crash into someone else's memory - all this was coming from inside, and not outside. Dana was incredibly seductive not because she had good looks, but because she was... simply because she was herself. Dana was Dana, that's all. And such a "detail" cannot be hidden by any illusions.

Having realized that he was not about to wait the desirable performance with an angry fury, the trickster got up from the table and went back to his room. He hoped the attendants had enough time to do all the work there, and also bring him a new stack of books as he ordered. Though, when Loki voiced this demand, for some reason he was not asked: “What genre of reading would you prefer? Which language? ", but:" Do you have problems with the heating system? Shall we call the master? " Apparently, on this planet, books (at least in paper form) were mainly intended for kindling a fireplace or to prop up loose furniture. Even the thought of treating books this way made the trickster flinch. What a barbarism... Even the Jotuns - damn them all along with their Jotunheim - handled the folios better: they did not acquire them at first place, giving preference to stone and ice blocks. If they anything was propped up with such "books", it was walls and gates. And with small "notebooks" and "school diaries", one could beat to death some enemy, that is, an Asgardian... 

Once in the room, Loki smiled with satisfaction, noticing another pile of local kindling. Taking the first book he came across, the trickster sat down on a neatly made bed and began to read "A Thousand and One Ways Not to Lose Your Head". Bluin's approach to literature was the same as to life in general - very practical. Literary reading did not take root here. But manuals on survival in the wild, encyclopedias of the animal world (especially that part of it that have a bad habit of eating another part), textbooks on mechanics and cookbooks were very popular. Though, sometimes Loki wondered: if locals mainly use books here in case of a shortage of firewood, then why bother with writing and publishing at all? When are they read?

Probably, if it does come to reading, it is in digital format, thought the trickster, licking his finger and turning the page. Reading always helped him to relax, to forget for a while about the world around him and all kinds of problems and worries. But now, no matter how hard he concentrated his attention on the black squiggles, some part of him still could not relax. A couple of light-hearted, dark-haired women reappeared in his head. The tension increased. I wonder what this pest has already come up with?

Loki was mistaken thinking that Dana did not appreciate his trick with illusions. Oh, she appreciated, and very much. Moreover, she appreciated it like no other could, because it was magic, and with it the woman was very close.

If only the Valkyrie hadn't been nostalgic for her former sisters in arms, if she had let her friend continue to talk about magic, then she would have found out why Dana was so damn good in it. Divine power - one of many kinds of magic - can be obtained in different ways, but the most reliable is inheriting. Some genes are transmitted through the blood, and others - through the soul. This explains well how Loki managed to inherit Frigga's magic despite a lack of blood kinship. But if the gods could only inherit magical powers, there would be no variety. When everyone has the same tricks, what kind of diversity can we talk about? And why will one pantheon need, for example, three goddesses of beauty? Or two gods of war? The title is valuable due to the fact it can only belong to just one. No, the gods do inherit abilities from their parents, but only partly. They have to develop the rest in themselves. Take, for example, the same Loki and Frigga. Yes, the trickster learned how to impose illusions (and some other enchantments) from his mother, but the ability to look into the future continued to belong only to Frigga alone. Loki, in his turn, has developed the ability to look into other people's memories.

In general, gods' genetics is arranged in such a way that the gods, shall we say, "do not overlap." With earthly gods, the situation is, in principle, similar, but given the number of religions, it is worth making a clarification: the gods of the same pantheon should not be "overlapped". This means that Hindus, Egyptians, Greeks, and anyone else can have their own god of war, but neither a Hindu, nor an Egyptian, nor a Greek, nor anyone else can have two gods of war. At least, two gods of war with identical titles and abilities.

But Dana was not a goddess. Not in the classical sense of the word. She was a half-breed: a woman in whose soul divine power and the entire spectrum of human feelings were mixed. She, like her older brother, inherited from her mother some of her abilities, but, unlike the same Mahes, who also developed the control of thunder and storm in himself, Dana did not acquire such a feature. She did not possess her own personal magic, magic that her mother did not possess, and therefore was not a goddess. You could rummage through every, absolutely all sources regarding the pantheon of the gods of Egypt, but none of them will contain the name of Dana, because in order to be included in the list of gods, it is not enough just to have divine power, you need to be a god of something. To do this, it is necessary to develop in yourself your own divine power, different from all others, and Dana was not capable of such a thing due to the lack of "divine" genes. And the capacity of her inherited divine powers was half that of other gods. And it also recovered more slowly.

However, Mother Nature, apparently, decided that she had reduced it enough, it would be nice to add here and there. Nature has paid off with one innate feature. Dana saw (and also heard, smelled and felt) the world as it really was. And it was full of magic. In one form or another, in different quantity and quality, but it was everywhere. And Dana saw it as clearly as, for example, she saw the clouds in the sky. Of course, she saw magic only if the latter had at least some visible shell. But even if it was absolutely invisible both to the eyes of ordinary people and to her own, the woman always felt magic. Dana was like an incredibly sensitive receiver, able to pick up signals that are not available to others. It is difficult to describe what this "sensitivity" to magic is like. Perhaps this can be compared to electroreception. As if people (gods of various types in this context also fall under this term), just like the same sharks, suddenly began to feel the electrical signals of the environment. Dana saw magic, felt it and, as a result, understood it. She could understand any magic: both the one that she practiced herself and the one that she observed around. And given that she spent a certain period of her life studying the universe with enviable persistence, and given that this world is full of the most diverse magic, this woman knew a lot: both about magic and about the universe.

Dana did not know whether this ability was inherent to her alone, or whether all the demigods-demihumans were capable of it, because she had never met neither other supersensitive to magic beings, nor any other such half-breeds. But the fact remained: she always knew exactly what was real and what was not, and always felt magic. Especially when it was casted upon her. It was impossible to confuse that feeling with anything. So the Loki's work did impressed her - even if she never admits it out loud - at least because he managed to impose a spell so carefully that she didn't even wake up.

But the trickster could not even dream of deceiving her. He could be the best magician-illusionist of all times and peoples, but there is no illusion that will work with Dana. No, the woman did not see through them (she sees magic, not through it), but she saw them and knew what they were. For her, the difference between an illusion and non-illusion was as obvious as, say, the difference between a living person and his cardboard image.

But she appreciated the trickster's efforts. As a true connoisseur of magic, Dana was fully aware of the skill and effort required to do such a job. Loki made a hell of efforts in order to do such a prank with her and the Valkyrie. She had not seen such a high quality illusion for a long time. For her, it was not even so much a prank as a demonstration of skill. Perhaps that is why she did not feel anger and, as a result, the desire to cut the trickster's throat.

He tried so hard. And all this, to some extent, was for me, Dana thought, and her lips stretched themselves into a smile. Magic... She had not received such signs of attention for a long time.She and Brunnhilde were still sitting at their table and eating breakfast. Rather, Dana has already finished her breakfast, but the Valkyrie has dealt with only three dishes so far. Well, it will only be fair if I try for him too.

The Valkyrie, pushing the fourth plate towards her, stared suspiciously at her friend's smile. Even though, in fact, she was now looking at her own face, there was never a moment of doubt that it was Dana who was in front of her. She, too, did not seem to experience any discomfort, looking at herself.

"How are you doing it?" the Valkyrie asked, giving her jaw a break from chewing.

"What exactly?" 

"Behaving like this... Feeling absolutely no, how to put it more precisely... "wrong"? she finally picked up the right words. "I mean, yes, we - basically, you, of course, frankly speaking - figured out what's going on, but it's one thing to know that it's all an illusion, and quite another to completely ignore it. For example, I still feel uncomfortable when I see my reflection in a cup, or look at my... or rather, your breasts. And to you all this is like peas against the wall."

"Oh, that's what you meant," Dana stared at the ceiling for a few seconds, choosing the most accurate and understandable wording. "You see, I just always know exactly who I am, where I am and when I am. It does not let you get confused. I already told you today: I am me, you are you, and we are both here and now. The main thing is to know this, and then, as you put it, you don't feel any "wrong", because you know that everything is right."

"If following your logic, then everything will always be right, because, if you think about it, then there is no place and time for us to be, but only here and now,” the Valkyrie summed up and began to chew again. She, like any native of Asgard, always had a good appetite, and after a booze - even more so.

"Exactly, sweetie. And it is very important to always remember this. So, if one time in your head a question suddenly pops up: "Is me is truly me?", kick it out. You start to doubt such things, and you can be imbued with anything."

"How is it even possible to forget  who you are?" asked Brunnhilde, but after taking a thought, she immediately added: "Well, except for those cases when you drank a sufficient amount of alcohol."

"As it turns out, very simple,” Dana replied. "An open mind is, of course, good, but the trouble is that everyone immediately starts throwing everything into it. Some thoughts and ideas, after considering, need to be thrown back, like those that Hitler preached. In short, you need to listen to other opinions, but not always. Otherwise, someone may decide that he is the king and god, and you are just a servant, if not a slave, and make you believe it. When you talk about it now, I know that it’s hard to believe in something like that - for someone to willingly recognize himself as a lower creature - but if you remember the past... Gods, how many such idiots were there. It amazes how easily people were brainwashed."

"If that will console you, then in Asgard... well, at least when I used to live there, things were also, to put it mildly, not very good. We were taught the idea that the conquest of other worlds is done for their own good: they say, we give them civilization and protection..." Dana let out a laugh, "I know, I know, this is pure idiocy, but then the people - the people of Asgard, at least - really believed in it. Me too, as much as I am ashamed to admit it. Later, when I personally took part in these "deliveries of protection and civilization", it dawned on me that all this is the purest water exploitation of other people's resources and the strengthening of the political position of Asgard," Brunnhilde sighed and put down her fork. The appetite has slightly diminished: a very disturbing sign for an Asgardian. "You know, now, remembering all this, I just... just amazed at what a naïve fool I was in my youth."

"I don't know what made you think the news... well, I wouldn't say that this was news to me, rather, another reminder of how the world - and when I say "world", I mean the whole plural the universe - is full of idiots, and how many of these idiots are in power... In short, I do not know how this should have served me as a consolation. Rather, on the contrary," Dana would gladly continue the discussion on the topic: “Everyone around - except me, of course, are idiots,” but decided to stop, because such lectures could drag on for several hours. "And about youth... I could say that I was also stupid and naïve, but that would be a lie, and I am, as you know, trying to speak the truth..." Brunnhilde looked at her very expressively. Considering that she now looked exactly like her friend, she just got the perfect "Bitch, please" expression. Dana narrowed her eyes in displeasure. "And what is this look supposed to mean?"

"We both know that you are only telling the part of the truth that suits you. Seriously, friend, you sometimes manipulate the facts so that any mass-media has no choice, but to nervously smoke on the sidelines, sobbing into four streams."

"Never said I was trying to be honest," Dana replied. "Besides, sweetie, I tell you the whole truth. Almost always."

"The key word is "almost".

"Exactly. And it could be "rarely" or "never."

"Or, maybe, "always"?"

"Always?" Dana stared at her with a face on the forehead of which the question was written in large print: "Are you completely mad?". "Sweetie, do you have any idea what will happen if everyone suddenly starts always telling the whole truth? Can you imagine a world in which there is not a single drop of lies?"

Brunnhilde pondered. A world without lies. In her opinion, a great world. Yes, of course, lawyers, politicians and marketers will have a hard time, and Loki will have to find another title for himself, but in general...

"As for me, this will be a pretty good world," she finally answered. "At least, no one can cheat or break a promise. And the criminals will not be able to deny: “It wasn’t me,” “I didn’t do it,” justice will triumph at least a little..."

"Justice?" Dana grinned again. "How will triumph something that will not exist?"

"What?"

"We are now talking about a world without lies, remember? That is, no Santa Claus and the like, no brownies, no karma, no fairy tales, no myths, no lies at all. Therefore, there will be no justice in the world either."

"Not the best thing to compare... myths and justice are completely different things. Myths are lies, but justice is not."

"Oh really?" a dark eyebrow arched. "Then what is justice? Or, for instance, the same mercy? Morality? Can you show me a single atom of any of them? No? Because there are none of them. However, we still act as if there is... some order in the universe, rightness by which it is worth be judged, even though none of these actually exists."

"Yes, but people need to believe in this, because otherwise..." she suddenly stopped. "Oh".

Dana smiled a knowing smile.

"That's exactly what I'm talking about. In fact, justice, mercy, morality and all that stuff are just lies. A fantasy created by people. But people believe in it, believe so strongly that the lie has become more real for them than the truth. This is what distinguishes us from animals: the ability to believe in something that does not exist. And you need to believe, otherwise where will it come from?"

"Are you saying that if you take the lies away from people…"

"They will cease to be people,” Dana finished for her. “I hope I don’t need to clarify that by "people” I mean almost all peoples, even including the gods? Although... most of the earthly gods, perhaps, should be amended. Some of them have foam in their brains. If there are any brains at all."

"Can I ask?" asked the Valkyrie, quickly finishing the fourth course. The appetite was back.

"Well, since we have a day of conversations on philosophic topics today..."

"Where does all this come from in you?"

"By "all this" you mean wisdom? It comes with experience."

"I am thousands of years old," Brunnhilde began, "and I have known go... people who were even older, but few of them had so much wisdom as you do. And you, even if you are older than me, then not that much."

"Sweetie, wisdom, as I said, comes with experience, not with years. And you, Asgardians, are the best confirmation of this: you remain fools even after having lived for thousands of years," the Valkyrie only made a displeased face in response. It was shame, but true. "I can’t tell you exactly how old I am, because I lied so often about this that I don’t even remember myself. Hell! I don't even know exactly when I was born. And when your mother drags you from one space-time point to another during almost all of your childhood, you stop paying attention to such trifles as dates. However, I doubt that you and I have such a big age difference. But, again, age does not play such an important role here. Young fools do not always become old sages. Sometimes they remain fools, only older ones. You can live for millions of years and still know less than a person who has not yet hit his sixth decade," a smile appeared on Dana's face. But not mocking or smug, as is usually the case, but rather... sad. “I’m telling you this as someone who has lived with people for most of her life. And now, by "people" I mean those people who live on Earth. People like Bruce. Humans."

"Yes, you often shared with me stories about your life on Earth," Valkyrie smiled with recollections. Dana had many stories, although most of them could not be told to persons under the age of eighteen. "The moral is usually the next: people are idiot... Auch!" the Asgardian woman felt a kick in the leg and looked indignantly at her friend. "Hey, you're always saying negative things about them."

"Yes, but I live among them, so I have the right to do so," the woman said unflinchingly. "It's even... Patriotic. Besides, idiots are the most powerful organization in the plural universe. Their people are... Everywhere. Yes, humanity, for the most part, is a bunch of idiots, but the same can be said about the Asgardian. And about a bunch of other nations, trust me, I know. But not everyone remains an idiot for the rest of their lives. People - again in the broad sense of the word - do not freeze in place: time goes by, they are finding out something new, learning, changing. Some are aging, some are just getting older, and some, if they're lucky, are even maturing. But it takes time for all these, sweetie. It doesn't matter who you are: human, god, Martian, everyone needs time in order to change. But the thing is, each has its own amount of this very time," a melancholy smile returned to its former place. "And a human, sweetie, has much less of it than a God. But in ten years a human is able to accumulate more wisdom than the same god - in a thousand years. For a decade humans manage to gain many times more experience than other creatures - for their whole much longer life. Yes, humans are not the smartest creatures, but not the stupidest either. Certainly no more stupid than you Asgardians. Shorter lifespans do not mean less experience and wisdom. On the contrary, sweetie, the less time you have, the more you value it, and you do not scatter valuable things to the right and to the left. Come to think about it, both the human and the Asgardian live more or less the same life. At least if you estimate by the amount of experience gained. The only thing that distinguishes is the pace of this very life. Where an Asgardian needs a century, if not a millennium, a human needs only a few years. Because humans learn faster, which means they change faster too. And I, sweetie, have lived among people most of my life. And although my life is much longer than theirs, I've lived it at a human pace. Few decades are enough for humans to become wiser than Gods, and I've had millennia. That's why I'm wiser than you and all your Asgardians combined," Dana thought for a second. "Well, and, I think, my irrepressible curiosity played a role here as well, always pushing me towards the unknown. Will there be more questions or can I finally retire to the ladies' room?"

"The last one,” Brunnhilde replied immediately. Taking the rolling eyes of her friend as agreement, she immediately voiced the question: "What are you going to do with Loki?"

"Oh," Dana's lips stretched out into a smile again, but this time in one of those that sometimes made the Valkyrie want to cringe. “I'll just show him some of my magical powers. An eye for an eye, so to speak."

"An eye for an eye - and the world goes blind."

"Only if everyone really starts to tear each other's eyes out,” the woman shrugged. "Don't worry so much, sweetie. I'm not going to do him anything like that. At least, anything this trickster could not survive."

Chapter Text

The annoying itching in some inaccessible place, located somewhere in the back of the skull, did not give Loki rest all day and most of the evening. Hours passed. Many hours. And nothing special happened. By "special" the trickster, of course, meant revenge. He spent the whole day in limbo, waiting... what exactly, he did not know, but something for sure. But nothing followed. The bitchy woman still hasn't gotten her revenge, although she had more than enough time for that.

And it was stressful. Loki has always had an incredibly lively and just the same tireless thought process, but in emergency situations this process progressed at such a speed that, it seemed, he could give odds even to schoolchildren running into the cafeteria. A similar sensation was experienced by many, and for the majority, however, it was accompanied by a rapid heartbeat, cold sweat and the feeling of the ground knocked out from under their feet. Just remember how you felt after the teacher's phrases, such as: "Now, close the textbooks and take out sheet of paper" or "And, to the blackboard will go..." or, for example, when you broke your mother's favorite vase. The main catch is that emergencies are usually short-lived (although most would swear it lasted forever), and you don't have time to faint from brain overwork or nervous system failure. However, Loki was in "extreme situation mode" from the moment he realized that the victim of his trick was going to take revenge.

In short, the trickster was already exhausted during the waiting time and was now more than ever close to acquiring such popular character traits with royals as paranoia, absolute suspicion and schizophrenia. The only thing that saved his nervous system from complete collapse was all those years spent with his brother and his friends, who tempered Loki so that his nerves in strength could compete with vibranium.

This woman will drive me crazy, he thought, lying on the bed, peering into the shadows and listening to every sound. What can one possibly plan for so long? Loki spent a lot of time trying to imagine possible options. It didn't work out very well, because everything he knew about the abilities of this woman was limited to her transformations, the ability to increase body temperature and travel through time and space. Or is she just going to plague me with waiting?

In such reflections, the trickster spent at least another three hours, until his brain announced a time-out, and God finally managed to get lost in sound, albeit not quite restful sleep. And as soon as his breathing evened out, tanned female feet sank silently onto the thick carpet in his room.

Hulk was bored. After Thor had been "accepted" into one of the juvenile criminal gangs (from the language of adults it is translated as "any group of children between the ages of three and seventeen"), the thunder god showed up at the hotel only in the evenings and only in order to have dinner, to lie down and start snoring. He had not seen the Valkyrie since the moment he dragged her and Thor into the hotel room, after which he passed out himself. So, there was no one to entertain the revenger, and without entertainment it was boring.

The further logical chain in Hulk's head would be best described using "=". Boredom = no anger. No anger = calmness. Calmness = Benner. Benner = bad. Thus, the avenger came to the logical conclusion "Boredom = bad." Therefore, the Hulk tried to rectify the situation. Good = anger, and anger = smash. Therefore, if Hulk wants to feel good, Hulk needs to smash.

But not in a hotel. There is a lot of furniture in the hotel, and he promised the gorgeous woman not to destroy furniture again. The last time he did this, he defused both her and the angry Valkyrie, after which he also felt bad. And now he wants to feel good. Good = not upsetting the gorgeous woman and the Valkyrie = not destroying furniture. Hulk took a thought again. So far, the list of "good" is only decreasing, while the list of "bad" is only growing.

The revenger sighed loudly and discontentedly. The sight was so strong the hat flew off the bartender in the hotel lobby who was wiping the glasses.

"Would you like a drink, sir?" he asked, looking up from his occupation. On his phlegmatic face there was an expression of patience of such a caliber, which can only be characteristic of an old horse that has worked out in its lifetime, has seen everything and is accustomed to everything.

"Hulk is bored," the revenger replied. "Boredom - bad."

"I completely agree with you, sir," the bartender nodded and asked the question again: "Would you like a drink, sir?"

"Drinks are calming,” Hulk remembered how he felt during his first drinking binge in his life. He felt, in general, good, but at the same time he was not angry at all. And now all he wanted was to get angry. And quickly, before Banner gets out of the trunk of his subconscious.

"Yes, sir, they eat away nerve cells. And some of them - even iron. Would you like a drink, sir?"

"Hulk want be angry!"

The bartender fell into a stupor for a moment. He has dealt with many clients (and his face is the best confirmation of this), but none of them have ever sat down at the bar in order to get angry. Usually they came to him after they got angry, quarreled, fought and angered all the neighbors with the noise from the above.

"You can have an argument with someone, sir,” the bartender suggested, recalling numerous customer stories about what led them to the hotel and, most importantly, to the bar. "Or a fight," and immediately added: "just not here."

"Smash furniture - bad."

"Yes, sir, that's why I said it."

"Hulk have no one to argue with," the revenger complained. Thor was now sleeping in deep dream, and he still has not intersected with the Valkyrie.

"You can call some government agency, sir. I am sure that if you do this now, when they have all been closed for four hours already, arguments - or even a fight - are guaranteed to you."

"Hulk have no phone."

"That's bad. Would you like a drink, sir?" it looks like the bartender decided to try to piss him off on his own.

"Hulk want..."

"But mo-o-om!" the light, relaxed atmosphere of the hotel hall was destroyed by a piercing boyish voice. "How long do we have to wait? I want to sleeeeep!"

The mother smiled awkwardly at the visitors who turned around at the noise, like: "Oh, these children...", and then turned to her child. The smile has not disappeared anywhere, but the message has changed from "oh, these children..." to "oh, just wait till we are alone..."

"Honey, we came here a few minutes ago,” she hissed, keeping that slightly insane smile that mothers seem to develop naturally, along with a breast milk. "The room needs to be cleaned and prepared. This takes time. Wait a little."

"But mo-o-o..."

"If you don’t stop whining, the berg will come to you at night and eat you,” the woman quickly interrupted the second wave of whining. Seeing, however, that the child is going to use the second most popular method from the children's manual "How to bring a mother to a nervous tic" (see the section "The last mother's nerve: finding and destroying"), namely, to hit loud sobs, she decided to add another threat, this time more terrifying than some toothy monsters there: "And mom will never give you cookies again."

Frightened by such an unimaginable threat, the boy immediately shut his mouth and dried the tears in his eyes.

When the eerily slow but nonetheless working calculating machine called the Hulk's brain finished processing the information that had just arrived, the green avenger turned his attention back to the bartender.

"What is berg?" he asked.

"A kind of local animals, sir,” the bartender replied. "A large, shaggy beasts with long claws and sharp teeth. Mothers always scare the kids with them, but so far not a single unprovoked case of a berg attack on a person has been registered, sir."

Hulk fell into thought again. Big toothy beast = big monster. Big monster = not a furniture. Not a furniture = you can smash it. Smash = good. Hulk smiled.

"Where is this berg?" the avenger asked.

"I hope it’s somewhere far from me, sir,” the bartender replied with the same phlegmatic face of the most patient being in this hotel. "Bergs live in the local forests, but once they were seen on the outskirts of the city. The pack was scared away, no one was hurt. But from that time everyone is trying not to wander a lot on the outskirts in the evenings, sir."

Pack = a lot. A lot of monsters = a lot of smash. Hulk's smile widened.

"Hulk - smash bergs!" the avenger proclaimed joyfully and headed for the exit from the hotel.

"Good luck, sir," the bartender said goodbye to him and returned to wiping glasses. One never knows who you'll meet on this job...

Loki woke up and immediately examined himself from head to toe. He looked the same as yesterday. Then he examined his surroundings. The room was in twilight, but it was the same room in which he fell asleep. He looked down. The bed also did not undergo any changes. The trickster did not hear any unusual sounds or smells either. He examined the room again, peering into the shadows, but found nothing new. Nothing has changed. And it bothered him more than if he had found that something was wrong.

Perhaps, it's in the bathroom?

Loki looked at the door to the next room. What he could find there, the trickster did not know, but all the options must be checked. Moreover, he still needed to wash his face.

He got out of bed and managed to take exactly three and a half steps before he fell. On the floor. From the ceiling.

"What the...?"  Loki stared in shock at the fleecy carpet softening the meeting of his face with the floor. He slowly got to his feet and found himself a couple of steps from the balcony door, which was a good five or seven meters from the bed. "What the hell?"

As if having heard his question... though, why as if?.. the question was definitely heard, judging by the female laughter from the next room. Laughter can be different. Poets, for some reason, like to compare it with the murmur of a stream, or with some melodic chime, but in this situation it was impossible to do without turning to the occult. Dana's laugh would have chilled the devil's skin. It was a sound from the Underworld itself. At least that is how Loki saw it at the moment.

After standing still for a few more seconds, the trickster sighed. Now that the shock of the sudden fall from the ceiling had evaporated, he felt a relieve. The torture of anticipation and uncertainty of the future has finally ended. The bitch made her move.

The secret path, then, concluded the trickster after a moment's thought. Obviously, the woman decided to create the same "path" in his room, which she did at the door of Thor, when she poured water on him. Not bad. I’ll have to lie on the other side of the bed if I don’t want to fall from the ceiling every time I get up.

Loki made his way back to his former destination, keeping his distance from the bed. This time, he managed to take four more steps before he was again completely not where he planned. The cramped dark room after a short examination turned out to be a cabinet near the front door.

Yeah. So, not a secret path, but secret paths, Loki thought, getting out of a large wooden box. And something tells me that there are far from two of them…

Having decided that it is possible to wash the face in the lobby, the trickster materialized his everyday clothes on himself and left the room. Rather, he tried to leave... One thing was good - this time he ended up in the bathroom. Or, to be more precise, in the bath.

The woman's demonic laughter was heard here too. The bitchy pest seemed to gloat hard...

Loki sat down, leaning his back against the side of the bathtub, and began to think: he always did it well - even when he absolutely did not want it. He was not yet ready to try to go back to the bedroom. You never know where another path can be. So, he was, in fact, locked in his own hotel room, which, literally, from floor to ceiling was stuffed with secret paths  so neat that even Loki, with his trained eye for such things, no matter how much time he spent peering, could not find even the smallest outline. Neither the curvature of space, nor the strange attachment of light, nor the smallest change in the force of gravity. The only thing that indicated the presence of these very paths was that the trickster was not sitting on a soft bed, as he was used to, but on the hard floor of the bathtub.

Well, it could have been worse, Loki thought, continuing to look into every square centimeter of the room, hoping to spot the path, but in vain. Just like the trickster made a hell of an effort with creating high-quality illusions, Dana made a hell of an effort with creating equally high-quality secret paths. One of the paths could have led to outer space or somewhere even worse...

The last thought made him think again. The demonic laughter that would most likely come to the trickster in one of his dreams (or rather nightmares) was not going to subside.

Though, perhaps one of them really does.

Chapter Text

Animals perceive the world around them somewhat differently than people. First, in most animals, the sense of smell is so acute that people never dreamed of. Secondly, their thought process is also different from that of a human.

Animals divide all creatures into four main categories:

1) Those they run after.

2) Those they run from.

3) Those they mate with.

4) Others.

Of course, the main categories, in turn, have their own sub-categories, sub-sub-categories, and so on. The first category, for example, is divided into: a) those you can eat, and b) those you can eat, but then you yourself will not be happy you did.

In short, most of the thought process of most animals is carried out in the same way as in case of Hulk - using the "=" sign. You see someone = you determine which category it belongs to. Who falls into which category directly depends on who carries out the thought process.

Bergs - creatures that resemble a mixture of a pit bull and a polar bear - were the top predators, and therefore the list of those who fell into their second category was very short. But the category number one was just full of variety. Bergs attacked almost everything that moves - in this they somewhat resembled cats - and the larger it is, the better, because bergs themselves were not only large animals, but also pack-animals, and you will not feed a horde of hungry puppies and those unfortunate left them to guard with a small snack. Therefore, when meeting with a living creature that is not another berg (that's category number three), the following equation arises in the head of this predator: it moves = it can be eaten. The thinking is rather primitive, but it has never failed bergs.

One of the representatives of this species just went out for reconnaissance. The rest of the pack- six more individuals - lurked behind the trees. Its large eyes, adapted to seeing in the twilight, peered into every shadow, ears perked up, and its nose greedily sucked in the air with smells. The predator was looking for another animal belonging to category one.

And found it. Rather, it was it that found berg.

It had an unfamiliar smell and walked on two legs. The gears in the head of the beast began to stir. It moves = it can be eaten = snack on two legs. And it seems, you don't even have to chase this snack: it itself went to the bergs, stamping its paws quite loudly. Very large paws. The creature was very large, much larger than the berg itself. The following thought instantly lined up in my head: it's big = big snack. Big snack = everyone is full. And the predator did not care that the appetizer was green - color that is not typical for the representatives of the local fauna.

The beast did not think further. He rushed to the side of the big snack, knowing that the other members of the pack had already gone around it and were waiting to attack from around the corner as soon as the snack began to run away. The tactic has been tested for generations. The snack did ran. And the berg was very surprised when he realized that instead of running away from it, a big green creature was running towards it. Running and grinning.

If the berg were a little smarter, it would have realized that the creature in front of it belongs not to the first category, but to the second (and it was included in absolutely everyone's second category), and would have built an appropriate equation in his head. However, in the predator's brain, the Big Snack sign still gleamed brightly. Therefore, the berg did not change its trajectory.

This was the first mistake a berg made in its life.

Only in this situation, one mistake = nothingness.

The list of creatures that fell, for predators, in category number two, may not have a great length, but it did existed. And today, in the heads of those bergs that remembered about this faster than the others and, as a result, managed to escape, another equation was forever imprinted: it shouts "Hulk - smash!" = you skedaddle. 

Loki spent most of the day figuring out how many paths were laid in his room, where each path was located and, most importantly, where it led. He had to use the only possible method - the method of trial and error. Therefore, the trickster very carefully and very slowly walked through his hotel room (which acquired a certain resemblance to a prison cell) for several hours in a row, holding out his hands.

From the outside, he somehow reminded Brunnhilde when she, waking up after a binge, tries to get to the bathroom without opening her eyes. And Dana had a lot of fun watching this parody from her laptop screen. The small camera she had installed in the trickster's room was now working in "live" mode. The device did not transmit sound, but it was not necessary: the wall is not a hindrance even for an ordinary woman who wants to be aware of the life of her neighbors, and Dana with her sensitive hearing, even more so.

It's a shame sweetie went to her hotel, the woman thought, dipping her hand into the bowl of crackers. There was no popcorn on this planet, no chips, no chocolates, and Dana loved to chew on something while watching the show. We could laugh together. 

The monitor screen showed how Loki fell into one of the paths laid out on the floor, and fell out of another path - on the ceiling - right onto a stack of books near the fireplace. Behind the wall there was a distinct: "Damn her...". Dana laughed. She has laughed more in the last 24 hours than in the last month.

I will definitely revisit this tape when I get bored, she thought, not taking her eyes off her laptop. I wonder how long this trickster will last before he dispels his illusions?

The woman glanced at the time. Then to the screen. Then onto a half-empty bowl of crackers. Then again at the time. And sighed. Contradiction tormented her. On the one hand, she would like to continue watching the comedy, especially since the sound is possible only in "live" mode, that is right now. On the other hand, the crackers, although they were quite good, could not be compared to a normal dinner. Moreover, the food was delicious here. Especially fish. And Dana loved fish very much (and not necessarily cooked).

The thought of seafood made her mouth fill with saliva. Seafood drew thoughts of the sea. Sea - thoughts of the beach. And thoughts of the beach, in turn, pulled thoughts with a rating of 18+ to the surface. In fact, most of her memories had this rating. If we compare the lives of people with books, then Dana's life was something between an encyclopedia and the Kama Sutra. The woman almost groaned. Now she didn't know what she wanted more: a good dinner or good sex. However, she always wanted both on a regular basis. Sex was her addiction, like the Valkyrie's - alcoholism... sorry, drunkenness. Addiction meant harmful passion, however, Dana herself did not quite agree with this. Passion - yes, of course. But harmful? The use of alcohol or drugs is harmful, yes. Smoking is also another addiction. The habit of getting into fights in order to let off steam, is also quite harmful, and not only for its owner. But sex? What kind of addiction, that is "harmful passion" is this? Quite the opposite. If more people knew how many calories are spent during sex, gyms would go bankrupt.

Dinner first, dessert - second, she recalled a favorite phrase of almost all mothers. Dana shifted the laptop from her lap to the bedside table, keeping it on to keep the recording going. Well, she will continue to watch the comedy without sound. It's okay, the monologues there are unlikely to be full of variety. But first, I should change into something more comfortable.

As for her, comfortable clothes meant clothes easy to remove. And the less fabric, the better. The basis of such preferences was not so much a depraved way of life (although it played a role too), bur the features of the feline form. Dana did not turn into a cat - she transformed into it. It was not magic at all, but pure biology. To understand how this change occurs, imagine millions of years of evolution that have transformed one organisms into others. Have you imagined? And now squeeze them in just a few seconds. This is approximately what happens to Dana every time her body changes. It's just as if people could turn into their ape ancestors (according to one of the main theories) in seconds and vice versa. It is much more pleasant and convenient to change forms in a magical way. If only because you can transform with your clothes, and you do not need to waste time on undressing yourself, hiding clothes, and then looking for them again when it's time to change back to bipedal form, not to mention washing them all later. And the change itself, to put it mildly, is not the most aesthetically pleasing sight.

Therefore, it is not surprising that Dana's mood deteriorated significantly while she was fiddling with the Valkyrie's ammunition, into which the trickster - may he suffer long and loudly (in fact, that's exactly what he was doing now) - turned her clothes. Not only did the fabric hide her body from neck to toes, but it was fucking impossible to guess where the rivet is and how to deal with it.

If all Asgardian clothes are arranged in this image and likeness, then it is not surprising why, over thousands of years of marriage, they have just two or three children born. To have a child, you need to have sex, and more than once, and in order to do this you need to undress not only yourself, but also your partner, the woman, not without anger, pulled some kind of fastener on her back. They, in turn, did not want to give in. With this damn clothing, by the time everyone is undressed, morning will come and everyone will have to go be back to work.

The clasp yielded, and the woman - unable to contain her exclamation of joy - managed to remove her breastplate. Perfect. Now there was little to do: she just needed to sort out all the rest.

Not an armor, but a fucking chastity belt. No wonder the sweetie has such a meager sexual experience, thought Dana, somehow dealing with the numerous rivets and straps. Yeah... In Asgard, she clearly would not have taken root. Not wearing such clothes, for sure. There are definitely no instructions for this ammunition? I wonder if this trickster also suffers with his clothes this way when he undresses?

Dana froze. Her thoughts flowed in the wrong direction... A very wrong direction. Why did she even think about him? Well, yes, she was now tormented with Asgardian clothing, and he was from Asgard, but this was where the points of contact ended. The trickster was now wearing Sakaarian clothes, not Asgardian. She knew this for sure, because she saw on TV what his own clothes were like. Layers of thick fabric, leather, straps, metal inserts and so on. Yeah, it would take her a long time to deal with such ammunition...

Dana shook her head.

O-o-okay, this is already starting to bother, the woman did not give a damn about the fact that when the illusion dissipated, the Valkyrie's ammunition would turn into her clothes, and called for help her sharp claws. The process went much faster. A thought suddenly flashed through her head about how long it would take for her to deal with that leather-metal set she had seen on the news with her claws. And teeth. How long will it take for her to finally get to the skin. And then... Everything is clear. Dessert first, and dinner can wait. Somewhere until tomorrow noon. 

When she was finally able to get rid of the Valkyrie's armor, the woman put on the first dress she came across, jumped into the first shoes that came across and flew out of her room at the speed of a schoolboy who heard the call from the last lesson.

Loki decided that he had enough "ups and downs". He spent all day researching his own room and looking for a way out of it, but he did not find the latter. This badass has thought of everything well. Not only were the paths in very different places, but they were also of different sizes, which made it impossible to slip to the exit door or even to the balcony. He was locked. Again.

The trickster looked at his watch and sighed resignedly. He could not leave the room, invite inside - too, and therefore he would not be able to go downstairs or order dinner in the room. He could say "goodbye" to his favorite tea... Hell! Because of these damned secret paths, even a regular trip to the bathroom had to be prepared like a military operation!

Damn this woman, Loki thought, lying in a less secure place - the bed. A little more, and this phrase will become his official motto. As I understand it, she will only remove her paths when I remove my illusions. And that's not even a fact. 

He considered the option of just waiting until it was time to go back into space. Then this woman will have to remove the paths anyway. She won't leave him here forever. Is that so?

She can, the trickster realized with almost horror. She can. And she will do it with great pleasure. And Thor won't make her. If he only tries to hint about her removing the paths, this woman will immediately send him here, to my even greater misfortune. Although, if the Valkyrie asks about it...

Loki replayed the memory of their interactions in his head. They were friends, and quite close, it was immediately clear. Of course, the bitch remained a bitch even next to her friend, but the Valkyrie, it seems, has long been accustomed to this and did not perceive such treatment as an insult, especially since in her case the insults were if only a little, but softer. And Brunnhilde got away with a lot, such as those rare barbs or remarks that she threw back at her friend. If Thor decides to throw out something similar, and he will receive an answer in his address with so much poison that no viper ever dreamed of. This is at its best. At worst, the thunder god will receive a couple more injuries.

But most importantly, Dana listened to the Valkyrie. This woman ignores most of what other living beings tell her, however when it comes to the Valkyrie, she listens to the words of her friend and, even more surprising, sometimes even does what the latter tells her. The Valkyrie, for some unknown reason, loved Dana, and she loved her in return, although she showed it in a very... in her own original way. Loki had no idea what Brünnhilde had to do to get such a favor.

However, that was not what mattered to him now. It doesn't matter how these two became friends, the main thing is that they continued to be the closest creatures to each other. If Hulk does not miraculously turn back into Benner in the near future, Loki will have to extract information about Earth from Dana. Of course, he cannot do this directly. Neither he, nor Thor, nor anyone else but the Valkyrie. A friend was still the only key to this bitchy woman. If the trickster wants to get something from Dana, he will have to get close to her through the Valkyrie, and after his prank with illusions, he had certain doubts about the latter's disposition to himself.

Looks like I'll have to use Thor too, Loki thought. A chain has already lined up in his head: the trickster influences his brother, he influences Brunhilde, she, in turn, influences her friend, and if the chain does not jam anywhere, Loki will get what he wants. The key word here was “if”. The trickster sighed. Yes, the amount of work is going to be hellish...

From further reflections and planning meetings, he was distracted by the sound of a slamming door. So his roommate came back from dinner, damn her. Loki had already mentally prepared himself for the next concert outside the wall, but nothing of the kind followed. Not in a minute, not in two. The trickster had already thought that today he would finally be able to spend the evening, if not quite as he wanted, then at least in peace and quiet, but it was not going to happen.

No, it was not music, nor a movie, nor anything else that was loaded into the laptop. They were moans. Low, drawn-out moans, perfectly audible through the wall. And obviously made not only by the woman.

She's got to be kidding me... Loki thought, looking at the wall separating them with a dazed look. His face froze in a vague expression. He suddenly wondered if the woman was doing all this - loud music, movies, and those damn moans now - to get on his nerves, or if she just didn't care if outsiders heard her or not. Probably both, he decided. Damn this woman. This shameless, bitchy, self-confident, crabbed, arrogant...

He wasn't sure which was worse: loud music or what he had to listen to now. Despite the fact that the moans were much quieter than what usually comes from the next room, they were very... distracting. Or, rather, on the contrary, they did not allow his already morose imagination to be distracted from its favorite pastime - compiling very spicy slide shows or even videos with the participation of a person who had recently settled in the head of a trickster for permanent residence. Now, with a "live sound" imagination was doing its best. And it didn't matter that the moans were now emitted by the voice of not that woman whose image was now actively used, but her friend.

I wonder how her voice would have sounded? he suddenly thought, but immediately shook his head, driving away such thoughts. He realized too late. Imagination heard the question and was now actively trying to find an answer to it.

Loki could almost feel the train of his consciousness, guided by an excessively played imagination, quietly derails from the rail of common sense. This woman was definitely driving him crazy and he definitely didn't like it.

It's time to stop, thought the trickster, trying to calm his own pulse and at the same time return the pale shade to his cheeks. The moans behind the wall only grew louder and longer. Right now. 

The thought process, which had not yet had time to hit the road on a prolonged vacation, threw an idea quickly enough. It was only necessary to concentrate properly and...

"What the fu...!" a surprised male voice rang out behind the wall. "Witch!"

Less than ten seconds later, Loki heard the door of the next room slam shut. The trickster chuckled contentedly. He could not imagine a better moment to dispel the illusion! It's a pity that he could not watch the man's face when he saw how moaning, wriggling... ok, thoughts again went on the wrong rails... when he saw how the woman with whom he, shall we say, was "spending time", began to turn into a completely different woman... Judging by what god heard and with what acceleration the unknown left the room, the sight was amusing. I would like to see this...

Though, Loki looked at the leg that appeared out of nowhere, and then the whole woman. Even without really seeing her face, the trickster could bet a tesseract that he had stolen from the Asgardian museum that the brown-haired woman was clearly not in the best mood, it looks like something more interesting awaits me... ”

Dana stood there for a while clearing her paths, or trying to calm down a bit (which was unlikely), before turning to face the trickster. He was wrong. "Not in the best mood" did not fit her description at the moment. Dana was now in about the same condition as when they first met. She was furious. If this woman's confidence could bend iron, then her gaze could melt it. Only now it was not just a look. It was a Look with a capital letter. And this Look was now directed at Loki.

The trickster suddenly remembered his mother telling him to be careful with his wishes. These words have never been as relevant to him as they were now. He wanted some feedback? Reared hair, glowing eyes and a face full of anger? He wanted to see an angry Dana? Well, there she is! Please enjoy.

Until she kills you.

"What. The," Dana began in a low growling voice, not taking her yellow eyes off him. However, there was very little of yellow left in them. Her pupils dilated so much that they covered almost the entire iris. Either the twilight in the trickster's room was to blame for everything, or the excitation, it was not clear. "Fuck. Have. You. Just. Done. Her-r-re?!"

"Oh, just look how angry we are," Loki said, smiling with the satisfied smile of the cat, who finally got to the cream. Well, or the smile of a psychopath, completely devoid of the instinct of self-preservation. "I've just dispelled the illusion. Aren't you happy?"

For a second, it seemed to him that the woman's right eyelid twitched. Ignoring this undoubtedly alarming sign, the trickster continued in an innocent, childlike voice.

"Or have I somehow interrupted your plans?"

Dana growled low and lunged at him, covering the distance to the bed in one leap. Loki managed to roll to the other side and boldly jumped to his feet, no longer worrying about magically falling into the bath or, for example, falling off the ceiling. It took the woman some time to "emerge" from the thick blankets and again rush in his direction, with the obvious intention of scratching out his eyes. The trickster managed to grab her wrist, stopping the sharp claws a few centimeters away from his face. His smiling face. Despite the fact that she tried if not to kill him here, then to maim him, Loki felt happier than ever.

"Damn you," Dana growled, continuing to attack with her three free limbs. This time she managed to scratch his cheek before her other hand was caught.

“You have no idea how often this thought arises in my head,” he replied, continuing to smile smugly, although a fresh couple of scratches caused a certain discomfort. "Only in your address."

Dana tried to free at least one hand, but Loki held on tight. Physically, he was much stronger, and therefore all that she managed to achieve with her attempts was to bring one of the caught wrists closer to her by a few centimeters. But even that was enough for her to stretch her neck and grab the trickster's arm. With her teeth, four of which were now long and sharp canines.

Loki swore aloud, reflexively opening his fingers, and the woman, taking advantage of the moment of his confusion, with all her might smashed her elbow into his solar plexus, and then, without wasting a second, made a sweep, forcing the trickster to fall to the floor. She herself, however, fell after him, because her other hand was held in a stranglehold that even pincers would envy. And she did the further actions almost automatically, because she did not just know how to straddle men but also, to be honest, loved.

Loki no longer smiled so smugly, but that didn’t mean that his mood had worn off. On the contrary, he enjoyed every second, and the further, the better. And screw the fact that he was now laid on his shoulder blades. The view before him was worth it...

Damn her… thought the trickster, but this time it was not irritation that moved him, but something akin to admiration. In Asgard - may its remnants (if there were any) rest in peace (or in war, given its history) - patriarchy reigned, and therefore certain views, despite the millions of years passed, remained conservative, especially with regard to women. In wives, they valued, above all, beauty, manners and obedience. And thrift, if there were no servants in the house. There were, of course, Valkyries or women like Lady Sif, but the former were considered extinct for a long time, and the latter were, rather, the exception to the rule. By and large, men in Asgard held a dominant position. In everything. And therefore, the behavior that Dana was now demonstrating would be perceived negatively by the majority of the men. And this majority loses a lot. A hell of a lot.

Loki had nothing against that. Rather, on the contrary, right now, looking at the angry yellow-eyed fury sitting on top of him with - there was no sense in denying - a gorgeous body, barely covered with purple cloth, he was all for it. Both hands up for. Or just one hand, considering that the other was nailed to the floor next to his head. He had no doubt that with enough effort he could pull it out, but... why? She didn’t try to scratch out his eyes, bite him again, fortunately, too. Dana just continued to straddle him, squeezing him with her hips - squeezing him very tightly, the trickster noticed - and growled in her belly, continuing to burn him with her almost black eyes. What a sight...

Thinking like that brought another smile to his face. The woman's growl intensified. The smile became even wider and even more satisfied, although it would seem, how much further it could be... It was a vicious circle: Dana was furious that Loki was happy, Loki was happy that Dana was furious, and smiled, which, in turn, infuriated her even more. The situation amused him like nothing else. It was almost a family comedy, when one is having fun simply because the other is mad.

"Like being under-r-rneath?" the woman asked in a low voice, still not taking her eyes off him. They rarely interrupted eye contact when they argued, fought, or even when they were just silent to each other.

"Depends on the circumstances,” replied the trickster and, using his free hand from the miraculous grip, swapped them in one motion. Dana looked no worse underneath him than she did on top of him. All with the same smug smile that he knew perfectly well infuriated her, Loki leaned closer to her, making sure the sharp claws were still at a safe distance from him. "And what about you?"

The fact that he immobilized her hands, while completely forgetting to immobilize her legs, and that this was a big mistake, the trickster realized only when Dana, with a grin no less smug than his own, punched him between his legs with her knee, causing sparks from the eyes. When the first few seconds, during which the world seemed to him as some kind of incomprehensible spot full of hellish pain, passed, Loki found himself lying on his shoulder blades again and looking at the grinning Dana from the bottom to top. Only now, both his thoughts and his feelings - everything was filled only with terrible pain.

"And per-r-rsonally I pr-r-refer-r-r to be on top," she answered in a voice sweet as molasses, and more with purring notes rather than growling. “Although it sometimes depends on the cir-r-rcumstances as well,” as if copying Loki’s actions, Dana slowly leaned toward him, grinning victoriously, and then slightly tilted her head to the side and licked his cheek. In the very place where she recently left him with four bleeding scratches. If Loki was taken aback, then the expression of pain on his face successfully hid it. "Sweet dr-r-reams, tr-r-rickster-r-r."

She disappeared in the same place from which she appeared.

Loki has been laying there for a few more minutes, afraid to lift a finger. He had never experienced such pain. This is probably why the Valkyries were considered an elite squad: you can't do such harm to them. She only dealt one blow, but now the whole body ached.

Damn this woman, thought the trickster again. This time there was no scent of admiration. Yeah, next time it will be necessary to immobilize not only her arms, but also her legs, and, probably, everything else too. Including her tongue. Loki closed his eyes. Despite the whole current situation, he was very bad at feeling just annoyance with Dana. Especially after the whole current situation. This woman was able to plunge him from one emotion to another with just one look. Damn her...

Chapter Text

Dana was angry all the time. It was her natural state, one might say. There was always something (or someone) with which (who) she was even a little bit dissatisfied with. What was rare was when Dana was angry... with herself. And these rare moments she truly hated. When Dana was dissatisfied with someone, she made it very unequivocally clear: either with the help of her claws, or with the help of her tongue. Of course, she was not going to sharpen her own claws on herself, as well as to argue with herself. At least out loud. When she was dissatisfied with herself (which, again, happened extremely rarely), the woman had to put things in order in her thoughts and feelings (if any).

I kissed him... she thought, lying on the bed and looking at the ceiling. Like a cat, of course, but I kissed him anyway. The question is: what the fuck?

The events of yesterday evening haunted the woman. She was especially worried about the fact that she kissed the trickster, albeit in her own way. Not that she attached so much importance to kisses, she didn't really care about this (after all, what is a simple kiss for a woman who sometimes uses sex as an excuse to meet?). But she was very much soared about who she kisses (or who she meets), how and, not less importantly, when.

Dana is always in control of the process. Even during the most breathtaking sex, when the pleasure is so strong that one can not feel a broken arm, even then some part of her consciousness - one might say, the hind mind - seems to be observing everything that happens from the side. Just like a judge at a game. It is this “inner observer” who never allows her to be taken by surprise. Dana is always, always on guard and keeps everything under control.

However, yesterday the system seems to have crashed. That "feline" kiss happened by itself. She didn't even think about kissing the trickster, and Dana always thinks before taking action. At that moment, she was relaxed. Completely. For the first time in a very, very long time. Yes, emotions were seething in her: she was hungry, aroused and, as a result, fucking angry; however, her hind mind - the part of her consciousness that never loses its vigilance - went blank. And when it turned on, it was shocked. And the shock, by the way, has not completely passed yet.

But the "system crash" was only half the trouble. Okay, her hind mind suddenly passed out with some kind of fright, okay, she acted automatically, not thinking about what she was doing, but why did she choose this from all possible actions? Why, instead of, for example, biting off half of the trickster's ear, she kissed him?

Moreover, to the same place where I scratched him… As if licking his wound, Dana swallowed. Her tongue still tasted of his blood. It smelled like... caring.

Thoughts like these made her grimace as if from drinking vinegar. Caring... Hell no! She doesn't care about this trickster. It's all to blame for anger and sexual frustration.

After all, this bastard tore me away from sex, which I have not had… for a long time, the woman repeated to herself. I was all on edge, and he was laying under me, writhing in pain, moaning... How could I resist? And his smell... 

Dana sighed in displeasure. This was another problem. The smell of trickster attracted her. Of course, to say that some person smells like apples, or pine needles, or anything else, would be fundamentally wrong, because people's smells are completely different from all of the above. People smell... like people. A human smells like a human, an Asgadian - like an Asgardian, and so on according to the list. It's just each of them, except for the "base" which allows you to determine the species, has special, characteristic only for him alone notes. They also do not smell like apples, cinnamon, nuts, flowers, and so on. However, due to the fact that most people cannot smell these smells, they cannot give them separate names, and therefore poets and writers, reaching the description, have to resort to comparisons to what most people can smell.

So, if you speak in human language, and not in feline language, then in the smell of Loki there were notes similar in smell to mint. Mint - it's not, of course, valerian or a catnip, but its smell is also very attractive to cats, and therefore to Dana.

However, the smell is the only thing that attrac… that I lik… ahem, his only tolerable trait, here, the brown-haired woman assured herself. Everything else about this trickster pisses me off. Especially this smug smile of his... 

Dana recalled how this bastard had smiled like a Cheshire Cat yesterday, amused by her anger. The woman recalled how the trickster kept grinning after she had scratched his cheek, after she had laid him down on his shoulder blades and straddled him, pinning his hands... well, his hand to the floor. Oh, just how badly she wanted to erase that smug grin from his pretty face... Only, for some reason, not with the help of her claws, but teeth.

Goose bumps ran down her spine as she remembered a sudden urge to bite the trickster's grinning lips into blood. Dana remembered well how she sat astride him, growling in her belly, and the thoughts flashed in her head. For example, to stop pressing one hand of the trickster to the floor with her own, and instead run it over his forearm, pressing harder on the bite site. Then over the shoulder, his neck, scratched cheek. To run her fingers into long black strands, clench them into a fist, then pull his hair painfully, watching the man under her quietly hiss from unpleasant sensations. Then to bend over, inhaling his scent, run her tongue over pale skin, tasting it, and bite her teeth into those ever-grinning lips, biting them to the blood...

Oh. Fuck. flashed through Dana's head. The feeling she was experiencing at the moment was something between doom and horror. And excitation. Her pulse quickened, her lips parted slightly, catching air, and somewhere in the region of her lower back a familiar warmth began to emerge, which quickly went up the spine, causing a wave of goose bumps, and tightened in a tight knot in her stomach. The woman almost groaned, either with excitement or with a sense of doom. I. Want. Him. I'm. Fucking. Attracted. To this bastard. 

"Fuck..."

As strange as it may sound, there really were rules for Dana. Even more than that, there were rules that she didn't break. For example, she had a rule not to have sex with two categories of people: those who are married (she's a lecher, not a home wrecker); and those who Dana works with (she never really liked office romances, they are such troublemakers). And now her mind was busy figuring out if the trickster fell into one of the categories.

The devil knows if this bastard is married or not. Of course, I did not see his wedding ring, but how do I know how they get married in Asgard. Hardly married. Otherwise, I think, someone would mention it at least once. As for the category of co-workers... the woman pondered, continuing to examine the ceiling, although for all the time she devoted to this occupation, she had already managed to learn every smallest detail of it by heart. To tolerate him, of course, is not an easy job, but I don’t think he can be considered a colleague at work. After all, we are all unemployed here, if it comes to that.

"Fuck," this time the word sounded more distinct.

To say that Dana did not like her current situation is to say nothing. She desperately wanted to start a short-term relationship of an intimate and extremely depraved nature for unknown reasons (to find out which she had not the slightest desire) with a trickster, who infuriated her like no one and nothing else. And worst of all, she had nothing to stop herself, because the trickster did not fall under any of the categories.

There are no excuses for herself. There's a desire. There's a choice. There's a responsibility. Which she'll have to carry herself. As always.

If you think about it, it's not such a bad idea - to succumb to temptation. After all, he doesn't look like someone who's not familiar with the concept of "one-night stand." Moreover, I'm really attracted to him. I don't know why on Earth, but I really do. And he's attracted to me as well, judging by how his smell changes and pupils expand. And, he's attracted badly, the last thoughts quite indulged her self-love and she even allowed herself to smile a little. But on the other hand, we still have a hell of a lot of time till we reach the Earth. Which means I will have to deal with him after an affair as well. Not my favorite thing to do. "Fuck- thanks - bye" I like more than "fuck - thanks -bye - hello again". However... What's wrong with that? It is unlikely that there will be a big stage - there is no reason for it. If you think about it, the worst thing that can happen is if the trickster suddenly has a false idea about the motives of my, hmm... possible action. But if you put all the dots above the "i" before...

It was at this moment that she was suddenly pierced by the realization that she was now seriously considering having sex with with someone who just yesterday she wanted to scratch out their eye. Moreover, the scales were leaning more towards the "for" than "against".

Dana groaned discontentedly, closing her eyes. She just had to think about that feline kiss, didn't she?

"At this rate," she murmured under her breath, "I'm going to need a word stronger than fuck."

Brunnhilde woke up and realized that she had had enough sleep. She slept mainly because she fell asleep in relative silence, and this very relative silence lasted all night. It could be only one of two things: either Hulk did not sleep all night, or he did slept, but somewhere very, very far from here.

Whichever option it is, thanks, the Valkyrie thought, getting out of bed. The rest of the tenants of the hotel, I'm sure, now think the same.

Brunnhilde went to the chair, on which she folded her clothes yesterday before getting lost in a deep sleep (she went to bed early to give her body at least a couple of hours of rest before Hulk starts snoring), and began to pull on her ammunition...

Stop there, she froze when she realized what she was wearing. It was the Valkyrie armor. Her clothes. Her, not Dana's. Could it be...

Without bothering to properly put on clothes, the woman ran to the bathroom, sometimes stammering in order to pull up the ammunition, looked in the mirror and could not hold back a sigh of relief. She looked at her reflection. Dana's face, of course, was a rather pleasant object of observation, but her own dear physiognomy was much better.

"Thanks the gods…" the Valkyrie muttered, and then her face suddenly froze with an impenetrable expression.

To her own horror, Brunnhilde discovered that the first thought that crossed her mind after realizing that the trickster's illusions were finally dispelled was that Dana did killed Loki.

Fortunately, the whole absurdity of such a thought came to her almost as quickly. Loki, of course, infuriated Dana to no end, it would have been understood even by a blind-deaf-dumb one. During their gazing-games, the tension in the air increased so much that sometimes it seemed if you wave your hand between their faces, it will get a burn of at least a fourth degree... But “kill” was used by Dana only as a verbal threat. Though sometimes, looking at her, it was hard to believe in it. But Brunnhilde knew her friend well enough to know for sure: no matter how much Loki infuriated her, Dana would not kill him. It’s not in her nature. Yes, she can insult you in such a way that you wish to fall through the ground straight to Hell, she can threaten you with reprisals so cruel that she would make any torture master doubt his own qualifications, she can pin you to the ground with just one look, she can scratch, she can bite, she can hit, she can cause serious damage, even cripple you for the rest of your life. The Valkyrie has seen everything from this list, but she has never seen her friend actually kill someone. Dana was many things, but never a murderer.

Unlike, for example, me, Brunnhilde thought bitterly, continuing to put on her ammunition. So white and clean... you can hardly say that once this armor was all smeared with blood and dirt. Or the same Loki, judging by the stories of Bruce and Thor. The latter, by the way, is also far from a saint... Heh, even funny: we are all a bit afraid of Dana... well, why everyone? Except Thor - he is just terrified of her. Anyway. The point is that we consider her character nasty, we call her a bitch, and Loki probably calls her even worse things. Although she is the... kindest of us all, or what? Gods, it even sounds strange... But it is so: we all - except for Bruce, maybe - have taken so many lives that cannot be counted, and not only because of self-defense or the protection of loved ones. While she may have spoiled the lives of more than a hundred people, but did not kill them, blindly obeying someone else's orders or out of irrepressible ambition. At the same time, we, who left behind mountains of corpses, consider ourselves good and try to look like that in the eyes of others, while Dana, who does not approve of even fur clothes, openly declares her flaws to the whole world.

This always surprised the Valkyrie: her friend knew how to manipulate facts in such a way that the mass-media could only cry on the sidelines, but there was not a drop of pretense in herself. Dana never tried to look like someone she wasn't. She didn't try to prove anything to anyone. She didn't care what others thought of her at all. Even if this “other” was Brünnhilde - her close friend. No, when it came to her, Dana didn't care about anyone's opinion except her own. On the one hand, the Valkyrie admired this, because there were few such people. But sometimes it terrified her. Because if Dana gets something bad into her head, then no one and nothing will be able to stop her.

However, she is sorting out her thoughts well, Brunnhilde reminded herself. Dana does not allow to throw anything into her head, and twirl herself too. Her inner control is something incredible... 

It was absolutely true. Dana may seem hot-tempered (and she was like this), especially if you remember their skirmish with Loki, but the Valkyrie knew that all, absolutely all the actions of a woman were performed with full awareness of what was happening. Even when beside herself with anger, Dana seemed to have... some unshakable part inside her which was responsible for the constant control of everything: both her actions and her emotions. Dana never panicked. It was almost impossible to catch her off guard. She could always calm herself, no matter how mad she was. Though she did this very rarely, arguing that she should not accumulate negative emotions in herself. But the fact remains: the self-control of this woman was unmatched. It towered in Dana's head as a huge impregnable wall.

And this worried Brünnhilde most of all. She may not have had the same amount of knowledge and wisdom as her friend, but she had enough life experience to know that such walls are not built for no reason. No, they are being built in order not to let anyone in.

Or not to let anyone out.

"All right. Enough of such thinking, " said the Valkyrie to herself, heading for the exit from the room. "I need to check whether repair work has finally begun on our poor kitchenette. Poor guys. Given that Dana ate away at their nerves at the expense of the color of kitchen cabinets."

Closing the door with a key and leaving the warm lobby of the hotel, Brunnhilde made a mental note to herself, just in case, to ask some passers-by if they had heard a very loud prolonged snoring that night. After all, once the team from the furniture store that she and Dana visited during their shopping finishes updating the interior of their pilot block's small kitchen, it’s time for them to hit the road. It will be necessary not to forget to warn everyone.

Chapter Text

Something was wrong.

Loki did not quite understand what exactly he was expecting - with Dana it is always difficult to make any predictions - but certainly not silence. Whether it was just the silence or just the calm before the storm, he did not know either. All that he knew was that a woman, for some reason only known to her (as, indeed, any other woman), decided... to calm down. For the last three days, Dana behaved as quiet as a mouse: no loud music, no movies, no dancing. Hell! Yesterday she even did not spend the night in her room at all - Loki was sure of that, because he did not sleep until her door slammed, which happened only in the morning.

After that evening (the trickster jerked every time he thought of him) they did not speak. They barely even intersected. Loki sometimes saw Dana in the dining room when he was having lunch and she was having breakfast. Or when he was having dinner and she was having lunch. And during each of their meetings, the woman looked thoughtful. Sometimes it even seemed to him that he could hear the gears spinning in her head... or was it cockroaches?

Sometimes - and "sometimes" meant twice maximum - Dana glanced at him. She looked intently, with a squint, as if the trickster were some kind of difficult puzzle that she could not solve and from which, as a result, she was irritated.

However, Loki looked at her in the same way, trying to understand what was happening in her head. And in his head he kept replaying the events of “that” evening. Even though he felt uneasy every time the "film" of memories reached the most painful moment. However, no matter how many times the trickster watched this "film", no matter how carefully he analyzed every movement and every line, he could not understand what he said or did that would make Dana behave this way. Yes, perhaps there was a certain sexual context in that skirmish, but he would rather believe that Volstagg - may his soul feasts in Valhalla - went on a diet than that Dana could be embarrassed by such things. She was a walking personification of shamelessness and debauchery! No special actions that could have any strange effect on this woman, Loki did not do either. She, on the other hand...

His hand went automatically to his right cheek. Only four barely visible stripes remained from scratches, which will disappear by evening. But they were not the point. Loki remembered how she licked his cheek. At that moment, of course, he was not quite in a state to, let's say, feel the moment, but now when he no longer curses his male physiology...

She was so close... the trickster recalled how she slowly leaned over to him with that smug victorious smile. She was so close. He could feel her hot breath on his face. Could feel the heat coming from her skin. Could smell her scent. Her hair - never collected in any semblance of a hairstyle - tickled his face and neck and seemed so soft. If it wasn't for the pain, he'd probably try to touch it with his hand. And then she licked his cheek - in the same place where she had left scratches for minutes - cleaning the blood with her hot, slightly rough, wet tongue. Loki didn't mind feeling that tongue again. Everywhere. But first of all, in his mouth.

He suddenly wanted to kiss her madly. To sink into her beautiful, eternally grinning lips, bury his fingers in those thick, soft hair and kiss, kiss, kiss her until his lungs run out of air, and then again, and again...

There was a crackling glass. Moments later, Loki felt sharp shards in his palm, previously holding a cup.

"Damn this woman," he said in a whisper, looking at his bloodied fingers and breathing intermittently. No, he was definitely going crazy.

Loki began to pull the shards out of his palm, mentally thanking the fragility of the glass. The focus and discomfort helped bring his pulse and heart rate back to normal and beat the need for an ice cold shower.

Something must be done about this, thought the trickster, looking for the remaining fragments. Thoughts about Dana, of course, for the most part were more than pleasant, but lately they have occupied too much place in his mind. If earlier Loki mainly thought about what awaits them upon arrival on Earth, pondering plans for their arrangement on a new planet, then now almost all his thoughts were occupied by a woman who causes in him either the desire to strangle her, or the desire to draw her to him and never let go. Moreover,the desires replaced each other in less than a second. Dana gave him a real emotional roller coaster. Until I finally lost my mind. Asgard needs at least someone with the ability to think analytically and critically. And this "someone" is clearly not Thor... 

When he finished toiling with his hand, Loki looked at his clock. It was just over eleven in the morning. Their ship was leaving Bluin at one o'clock this afternoon. The trickster mentally checked his spacious pockets. Clothes - in place. The daggers - in place. The Tesseract - in place. Thirty kilograms of local tea - also in place.

"I don’t seem to have forgotten anything," he said to himself and left the room. Finally leaving this damn planet.

"Have you counted everyone? Brunnhilde asked Thor.

“Yes, Heimdall said, all the Asgardians are in place,” the Thunder god replied. "I think you can take off."

"So, have you taken all your things?" the Valkyrie asked. "Did you leave anything in the parking lot? Or in a hotel?"

“No,” Loki replied. “This is the fourth time you've asked this."

"So, there is luggage, there is Asgard," Brunnhilde continued to mumble, missing the last phrase on deaf ears, "fuel was poured, food was purchased. What else... kitchen, inspection... Bottles. Are the bottles in place?"

"Yes, your dear booze is in place," Dana responded displeasingly, sitting on one of the panels. "All twelve boxes... Why the Hell do you need so many? Are we going to use a part instead of a disinfectant? Or as a solvent? Although not, rather, as a chemical warfare substance."

"How about you stop grumble?"

“And how about you stop telling me what to do, sweetie?”

"Did you get up on the wrong foot today or what?" the Valkyrie asked. Dana was even more irritable than usual. Brunnhilde even had scheduled a flight for lunch time so that her friend could sleep off. What was wrong?

"More likely from the wrong bed," Loki replied.

The speed with which the woman turned her head in his direction could outflank an angry rattlesnake and send lightning into an unpleasant shock. The trickster, already accustomed to her gaze, didn't even flinch.

“Okay, okay, I'm requesting permission to take off,” the Valkyrie re-established communication with the dispatcher, and then, having received permission, turned on the loudspeaker. "Everyone, either buckle up, or grab onto something stronger. Don't forget about the children. We're taking off."

The ship began to take off. Brunnhilde carefully watched the radar: the visibility was simply disgusting due to thick gray clouds and snowfall, and no one wanted to bump into any other vehicle. It will not turn out very well, especially since the ship was recently repaired. Speaking of not very good thing...

For some reason it seems to me that we have forgotten something, this unpleasant sensation haunted her from the very morning. But for Odin's sake, I can’t figure out what it is…

The ship began to shake. They crossed the layers of the atmosphere.

"Are you sure we took everything?" the Valkyrie asked again when the shaking ended.

“I think yes,” Thor replied. "Personally I didn't take anything with me at all."

"And yet, it seems to me that we have definitely forgotten something."

"Maybe you forgot to return the thermo-cloak?

"No."

"A sword?" Thor suggested, but then looked down. "No, here it is. Then... maybe you forgot to pay for the hotel?"

“No, that’s not it,” Brunnhilde replied.

"Then what else could we forget?"

“I don’t know about you, but I, for example, forgot to have breakfast,” Dana responded with displeasure, jumping off the panel. "Rather, not forgot, but did not have time. So, feel free to continue enjoying your premature sclerosis, and I'll go to the kitchen and have something to eat before Hulk destroys this stock of produce as well..."

And then there was silence. It was that special kind of silence that occurs when the realization suddenly reaches everyone at the same time. Moreover, not the most pleasant realization.

Dana took a few deep breaths, sniffing.

“Fuck…” she said quietly.

“We forgot Hulk,” Brunnhilde finally realized.

Considering that most of the planet consists of MMDB (Miles and Miles of Damn Bluin), namely dense blue forests, mountain slopes, gorges, ravines, as well as mountain rivers and frozen lakes, if Bluin had his own version of the "Red Book", then it would most likely include people (in the broad sense, of course), as the smallest species of the local fauna. But there was none, so no one kept track of who and how much remained. The local population has nothing else to do but count the animals, or what?

However, let's imagine that such a book does exists. So, the first number in it will be, as we have already found out, the natives of Bluin, walking on two legs and cursing their homeland in vain every morning. After them there would be a list of animals, either feeding on pasture, or not large enough. If the local population was interested in these representatives of the fauna a little more, they would know that among them there are several subspecies, of which there were less than a billion (a very small number for such a huge planet as Bluin). These subspecies included, for example, black vassas, threehorns, silvery snow-miners, and a few other names that hardly tell you anything.

These animals differed quite strongly among themselves, both in size and in their habitat: vassas - long-haired artiodactyls - lived on the mountain slopes, threehorns - some other artiodactyls, but with horns (the number of these horns, I think, is not difficult to guess) - preferred flat surfaces (and there were few of them on this planet), and snow-miners - nimble animals, somewhat reminiscent of hares - spent most of their lives in holes and under the snow. However, they all had something in common: all of these subspecies were included in the diet of the bergs.

Bergs, being at the top of the local food chain, did a lot for the local rare species. First of all, they made sure that they remained rare. Bergs themselves, being not particularly whimsical creatures, lived everywhere and were one of the most numerous representatives of the Bluin's fauna.

At least until recently.

Somewhere from the thicket, a loud whine was heard, which was quickly followed by a loud joyful: "Hulk - smash!". After which there was one berg less on Bluin.

So, returning to the "Red Book". If its analogue existed on this planet too, then Hulk, just like top predators, would also have contributed to it, namely, he would have added one more species to the "Rare" column - bergs.

And, who knows? Maybe in a month or two, thanks to Hulk, this species could be transferred from the "Red Book" to the "Black Book".

"How could this happen?" the Valkyrie was indignant, walking up and down the cockpit. "Thor, I told you, when you see Hulk, tell him that we are leaving today!"

"I did not see him. We almost did not intersect lately," he said in his defense. "Maybe, he just went for a walk?"

"For three days?"

“For a very long walk,” Thor corrected. "Or for a short one, but then he got lost."

Everyone looked at the slowly spinning, silvery-blue planet. It was the size of Jupiter, no less.

“If so, finding him will not be an easy task,” said Loki thoughtfully. He remembered Hulk waving him like a flag at some city-day. Then he remembered snoring which was able to drown out even the sound of a jet engine. “Almost impossible,” he added in an inappropriately cheerful tone. "Even if we now return to this damn planet, split up and search day and night, we will still fail. The territory is too large, and Hulk is hardly sitting quietly in one place, so our chances are one in a million, if not less. Nothing will come of it.” the trickster's eyes almost shone with joy. "To our great regret, of course."

"I see, you just can't wait to start looking," Dana quipped, and then turned to Brunnhilde. "Is that hat yellow swallow for orgies still on the fly, or have you already ditched it with your piloting?"

"You mean the second ship of the Grandmaster?" the brown-haired woman nodded. "Of course it works. And why would you ask?"

“Because I'm not in the mood for making a path right now. Moreover, of the size of Hulk."

Three… um, or rather, two and a half pairs of eyes immediately settled on her. Dana stared at them in response like: "The fuck are you staring?" Thor was the first to recover from shock.

"You," he began somehow uncertainly, "are going to go after Hulk?"

"Oh, just look at it! Our goldilocks learned to add two plus two, congratulations! Take a candy from the shelf."

"Why?" asked the Valkyrie. "We can just land the ship..."

"And?" Dana interrupted her. "Shall we waste a lot of time for all this tourist nonsense again? No thanks! I will do it faster by my own."

"Are you going to go alone?"

"Yes, and what? You’re no use there anyway. Look, sweetie, I have a much more developed sense of smell than yours (and I'm sure smell is the only "footprint" our green fellow left), and I'm not afraid of the cold. On the other hand, you will turn into icicles without thermo-coats, which, by the way, will also have to be waited for. Therefore..."

"I'll go with her," Loki declared.

In the ensuing silence, it seemed that a loud knock could be discerned. It was Thor and Brunhilde who dropped their jaws to the floor.

"And why the hell do I need you there, trickster?" finally answered Dana. In her voice, in addition to the usual irritation, one could discern curious notes.

“Someone will have to land the ship normally,” he shrugged.

“He's right, by the way,” the Valkyrie agreed with him. If there was one thing her friend did worse than driving, it was piloting. And landing.

“Huh,” the woman snorted. “You'd think I'm a bad pilot."

“No, I’m the bad pilot,” Brunnhilde replied. "And you, friend, a shitty pilot."

"Come on, don't exaggerate."

“On Sakaar, you were blacklisted at almost all air stations."

“That's because I landed without permission."

“That's because you scratched all the other ships while landing. And that's the best case, ”the Valkyrie corrected her. “Plus, the two of you won't be so bored."

Loki and Dana looked at each other. The look they exchanged made it clear that the difference between its recipient and a dead lizard was only in color.

Still, without interrupting eye contact, they said at the same time:

"Don't even doubt that."

Chapter Text

Thor and Brünnhilde watched as a small starship - with a very dubious reputation - approached a huge blue and white ball called Bluin. They looked and wondered: will the ship explode or not? Or whether one of its passengers will fly out of it into open space, and without a spacesuit.

“What do you think,” Thor began, not taking his eyes off the retreating vehicle, “is there a chance they will return?

“They’ll come back, you can be sure of that,” answered the Valkyrie, also looking out the windshield. "The only question is how many of them."

"And in what state."

"True."

The starship flew so far that it turned into a small yellow dot. So, the transport has not yet exploded, which is good news.

"Their behavior did not seem to you..." the thunder god pondered, "strange?"

"Sarcasm, discontent, staring contest... No, everything was the same. Though, it didn't come to assaults, which is a little strange indeed, given that Dana's mood today is even more irritable than usual," Brunnhilde suddenly thought. "Although, you know... she agreed rather quickly. And that doesn't really sound like her."

"Maybe you managed to convince her?"

"Convince? Dana? Hell no! It's easier to nail the water to the wall! It is impossible to force her to do anything, unless she herself wants to..." the Valkyrie stopped. The thought machine sped up, and the light bulb in her brain finally lit up. "Oh."

"What?" the mechanism in Thor's head seems to have decided to take a lunch break.

"No, nothing," she dismissed, still being in a kind of shock from her recent conclusion. How the hell she managed to come up with such a thought... The worst thing was that this conclusion was, so far, the most reasonable. "And what seemed strange to you?"

“Loki isn't really fond of this planet,” 'not really fond of', of course, was a big understatement of all the feelings that Bluin awakened in the trickster, but that's not the point. “And he doesn't like the Hulk either,” another even greater understatement. “However, he still went to this planet again to find the Hulk. Moreover, he went there with Dana..." the thunder god remembered something and immediately rushed to add: "No, of course, your friend is cool and all that, she's just a little... well... kind of..."

"Self-confident, arrogant, shameless and unscrupulous bitch with a hot temper and sharp tongue?"

"And with very sharp claws,” Thor added. "In all, I do not understand why Loki agreed... not even agree, no, volunteered. Moreover, he insisted on this when Dana objected."

"Well, I wouldn't call that an objection…” the Valkyrie said doubtfully. "If she were really categorically against the company, she would not agree even at gunpoint to her head. Although, I must confess, I would be interested to look at that unfortunate idiot who would risk threatening her. No, there must be something else here..."

Brunnhilde pondered. She may not have known Loki as well as Thor (although she had some doubts about the latter's awareness in this area too), but she knew him enough to understand that the trickster does nothing for nothing. So, if the words of the thunder god about his brother's dislike for Bluin and the Hulk are true, then Loki went there not to admire the views and not to save the green revenger. The Valkyrie quickly walked through the memories. The trickster was clearly not very enthusiastic about his arrival on this planet, and he avoided the Hulk in all possible ways, so here Thor was right. In that case, there was only...

"Has your brother ever told you," the Valkyrie began, "how he feels about Dana?"

Thor looked at her in genuine surprise.

"Um, no. He and I, to be honest, haven't talked that much lately," the thunder god shrugged. “But you yourself saw their behavior. They can't stand each other. It is obvious."

Is it so? the Valkyrie thought to herself. Loki and Dana did not get along very well, that's true, but for those who can hardly tolerate each other's company, they spend too much time together, though in arguments or fights. If they were disgusted with each other's company, wouldn't it be easier not to intersect with each other at all? But no, these two, on the contrary, seemed to be looking for a meeting, a reason to argue once again. And then the arguments turned into fights. And recently, fights turned into... magical competitions, or what? They were like... Like probing each other. Learning. Getting to know each other better. Just in their own way.

They don't hate each other, Brünnhilde realized. Quite the contrary, they... like each other?

This thought made the Valkyrie look at the situation from a completely different angle. Dana volunteers to go in search of the Hulk. Loki doesn't react in any way. Dana says she is leaving alone. Loki suddenly volunteers. Dana doesn't tell him no. She, of course, grumbles - as always - but rather only for show. If she was against the company, she would immediately refuse.

Company… That's what made Loki volunteer. He wanted to spend time with Dana. Alone the pieces of the mosaic have finally begun to form a picture. - Loki offers Dana to spend time together. This is an invitation. And she doesn't tell him no. And this, in her language, is almost the most official consent. Oh Gods…

Brunnhilde could not stand it and laughed, which greatly surprised Thor who was standing next to her. Her laughter was loud, lively and, truth be told, a little hysterical. She continued to laugh, holding on to her stomach, until tears flowed from her eyes with laughter. How could she not have guessed right away...

"Are you, um... - Thor's hand froze in uncertainty halfway to the Valkyrie's shoulder. He happened to calm down crying girls, but so that crying and laughing at the same time... this was the first time Odinson encountered such a thing. "Are you sure you're fine?"

“I… ha-ha-ha… I think I understood what happened,” the Valkyrie said through laughter. “I can't believe it… ha-ha-ha… Your brother... Loki just asked Dana out on a date! And she... ha-ha-ha... She agreed!"

The atmosphere inside the yellow starship was so tense that the latter went into emergency mode every now and then. Loki coped with the duties of a pilot more than tolerably, and Dana took over the duties of a navigator officer, that is, did not allow the person sitting at the helm to fall asleep. She did it simply: by keeping the trickster in an inflated state.

"We are entering the atmosphere, turn on the cooling panels! I hope I don't need to explain how to do this?..."

"Don't you want to lower the altitude? Because of the clouds, not a damn thing is visible..."

"Are you going to turn on the wipers? Can't you see how much snow there is?..."

"Just for how long are you gonna bother with this bloody radar? Is it your first time at the helm, or what?..."

I'll kill her, Loki thought, gripping the helm so that it probably had dents in the shape of his fingers. He barely kept his own tongue behind his teeth, knowing that if an argument ensued between them, it would not end well. What started out as a regular snowfall when they left Uinbjerg at lunchtime had turned into a huge blizzard in a few hours, and now visibility - whether above or below the bloody clouds, whether with or without bloody windshield wipers - was nil. And if the trickster allowed become distracted by an argument, he may not notice, say, a mountain and smash the starship to hell. I'll strangle this pest, he tried to soberly assess his chances of at least getting to her neck. Or at least shut her up with something. At least I'll try. 

Loki stared at the radar, now and then glancing at the navigator and the windshield. The ship's headlights did not help much, because all they illuminated was falling snow flakes. A huge amount of snow that stuck to the glass despite the wipers turned on at maximum. The navigator showed that it was still a couple of hours to fly to Uinbjerg.

And then the navigator suddenly turned off. So did the radar. And most of the lighting is inside the ship. Only the engine and panel illumination worked.

Looks rather familiar to me… Loki recalled the day (or rather, evening) when the pilot unit was powered off and the Valkyrie sent him and Thor to deal with the problem. Now this very problem was sitting on the next seat and frowning with displeasure. Silently. Well, now her "do this, do that" would be welcome.

“Looks like something's damaged,” Dana finally said. "Probably because of the snow storm."

"Well, aren't you just a genius!"

"Well, I'm surely smarter than some!" she replied.

"However now there is little use from your smartness!" 

"You must land before we have an accident. Do you see any landing site?"

"I don't see a shit!"

"Well, then go down. The ground is below!"

"Do you know what else is below? Trees, mountains, lakes and other local attractions that are not very pleasant to land on!"

"As for me, an unpleasant landing is better than a crash landing!"

"With the local landscape, these two concepts may well turn out to be synonyms!"

"Well, since the catastrophe is inevitable, I would prefer to meet it on the ground, not in the air!"

"I did not say that a catastrophe is inevitable! But if we keep on flying, even if in the wrong direction, we have a better chance!"

"Yeah, let's fly through the fuckin' snow and frost, until our engine also shuts down! Or until we're run out of fuel!"

"We have enough fuel! Plus, there's such a thing as refueling. Have you ever heard of such?"

"About refueling in the middle of the damn forest and mountains? No, I haven't!"

"With such visibility and with the radar off, it is dangerous to land, and except for the engine and the backlight, nothing works!"

"And flying at night during a snowstorm without the same radar, navigator and even fucking headlights with wipers is not dangerous?!"

"At least, in the air there is n... Oh shit!"

They nearly crashed a mountainside. From behind a solid wall of falling snow, the rock seemed to come out of nowhere. Loki managed to turn the helm, and the ship only perceptibly scratched sideways on solid rock. The panel lights blinked but did not turn off.

Both passengers of the spaceship were silent for a while, frozen in place and breathing deeply.

“Trickster,” Dana began in a calm tone. "We land the ship. Right now."

Loki didn't argue this time. He began the landing, trying to somehow see the landscape through the windshield and side windows almost entirely covered with snow. Truth be told, it turned out not very well. Most often, the crew learned about the presence of any objects under the ship from the squeak, tinkle, knock or shaking.

Loki had many titles: God of Lies, God of Chaos, God of Mischief, Trickster, Silvertongue, Reindeer Games (thanks Stark), son of Odin (which is controversial), son of Laufey (which is shameful) and maybe a few more the existence of which he either did not know or forgot. However, twenty minutes later, he could safely add to this list the title of the first pilot in the world to land a starship "by touch."

It was hard to say that the landing turned out to be neat, but it did turned out. And under their current circumstances, it could be considered a victory.

"And you wanted to go alone..."

"Shut up."

For some time they were silently staring into the windshield, the snow from which was almost completely swept away by the branches of many coniferous trees, into which they crashed during planting. However, after a few minutes, the snowfall again returned everything to square one.

"Yeah," this time it was Dana who broke the silence. "The searches of Hulk started rather... shitty."

"If you remember, I did said that the chances were one in a million."

"Then why the hell did you followed me? And don't even try to lie that you wanted to return our green snoring fellow."

"Wasn't even thinking of it," Loki shrugged. "I just wanted to see you fidget and get on people's nerves. But since when have you been participating in volunteering, and also in volunteering upon the return of the one who prevents you from sleeping?"

"We would have had to start looking anyway: your brother and my sweetie would hardly have agreed to continue the journey without him,” the woman replied, still looking out the window. There was not much to look at, but still... "And if I went alone, we would have saved time and medicines, because at least one of them would have gotten into something."

"Yeah, and now it's only you and me who got into some sh..."

"Shut up."

They fell silent again. The side windows were also covered with snow. The temperature inside was rapidly decreasing, but neither Dana nor Loki cared about this much: the former, with the help of magic, heated her body sufficiently so that the air around her would heat up too, and the latter was never bothered by cold anyway.

"You know,” the trickster began again, “this act of yours may well be considered caring."

“Pf,” she snorted back. "Cut out this nonsense. I am practical, not caring."

"Yes-yes, as you say," smiled Loki and added: "Who could know you were such a nic..."

She was in front of him almost instantly, with one leg still on the floor, and the other, bent at the knee, resting on the pilot's seat. Her face took a displeased grimace, and her eyes, with pupils dilated from the darkness, seemed to want to burn a hole in him. The woman held the trickster by the collar with her hand.

"Don't you dare call me nice,” she practically hissed in his face. "I'm not nice. Neither kind."

"And what are you then?" the trickster asked with the same smile. He certainly liked to piss off this woman.

"Exactly what I look like: sarcastic, confident, bitchy, egoistic..."

"Whoa, look who's lying now!"

"I'm not lying," she almost growled.

"As for an egoist, you care too much about your, as you put it, "sweetie"," the smile on his face widened. "In your own original way, of course, but you care. You value her so much. Love her so much. You were even ready to go here all alone so that your "sweetie" does not freeze..."

"Shu..."

Dana did not have time to finish. As soon as she opened her mouth, Loki immediately did what he dreamed of earlier this day: he ran his hand through the soft brown hair, pulled the woman to him and eagerly dug a kiss on her lips, which made Dana sigh in surprise (or indignantly).

However, the trickster did not care whether it was surprise or indignation. The main thing is that after a few seconds not a trace remained of it. Dana returned the kiss with a passion Loki had never encountered before. Her hot, slightly rough tongue did amazing things in his mouth. She was assertive. Aggressive. She bossed the show with her tongue in his mouth, crushing and biting his lips. And the trickster was not going to remain in debt...

Thus, Loki received two new titles in less than a day: the first pilot who landed the spaceship "by touch", and the first man who managed to catch Dana by surprise.

Chapter Text

It had taken Brunnhilde about half an hour to stop tearing her stomach with hysterical laughter. But for Thor, in order to fully comprehend all that the Valkyrie said in the intervals between laughter and tears, it had taken... a little longer.

Now that they both had returned to their normal (more or less) state, the two Asgardians stood in front of the huge windshield of their equally huge ship, continuing to look at the ball slowly rotating around its axis, although the small yellow dot - the starship - has long been disappeared from sight.

“What do you think,” Thor began, “they are doing now?

"On their first so-called date?" the Valkyrie thought. There were many options in her head. She chose the most likely one, in her opinion. "Probably killing each other. Or at least trying to do so."

If Loki was in danger of dying now, then it was only because of a lack of oxygen in his lungs. He followed his script clearly: he buried his fingers in the incredibly soft chocolate strands and kissed their owner as if he were at death, and her lips were the only cure. His imagination, no matter how detailed it may have been, had not come even close to reality. There was nothing elegant or gentle in this kiss - it was wild, just like the woman he was kissing. Trickster did not break away from her - he simply couldn't - until there was no air in his lungs. And then he kissed her again, and again, and again... Because to stop was simply impossible.

Although, it does not look like any of us is going to back down... Loki thought, though now his brain - perhaps for the first time in a long time - was working even slower than Thor's. The things Dana's tongue was doing in his mouth would deprive anyone of any normal thinking. And no one would even mind. 

She indeed was nothing like Asgardian ladies he used to, ahem, "court". Dana didn't melt into his embrace, didn't sigh in surprise when his tongue dove into her mouth, and she didn't let him take the lead. No, she gave just as well as she took, if not better. One of her hands was resting on his throat, applying just enough pressure to not let him forget about it, while another one was gripping his hair, holding his head where she wanted it to be. Her mouth with those soft lips, rough tongue, and sharp teeth... It was so very skilled and so demanding. She was an aggressive kisser with a hot restless tongue and great love for biting. Dana was fighting him for every second of dominance, never submitting to his lead. Moreover, she was trying to make him submit to her! This both astounded and aroused him. Such behavior in bed was not unheard of for Asgardian women, but it was rather uncommon. And he... well, he has always been rebellious.

Loki felt both of the woman's hands pressing on his shoulders, sharp nails almost cutting through the leather of his clothes. He could not contain a groan as Dana, without interrupting the kiss, threw her leg over him and straddled his hips, pressing her body against his and grinding herself against him wantonly. The trickster's hand - the one that was not buried in the thick mane - snaked around a woman's waist and pulled her even closer, smashing Dana's breasts against his chest.

She was so close and so hot that he could feel her body heat even through the thick layers of clothing. He could only imagine how hot her naked skin would feel... Loki's grip on her tightened, fingers digging into elastic muscles. In response, a low growling sound came from her chest, and then her teeth sank into his upper lip deep enough to draw blood, causing him to grimace slightly in pain. Damn this woman...

It was the first time a woman's kiss made him bleed, and he did not like it. His hand, the one previously playing with her soft hair, clenched the strands into a fist and pulled hard, forcing Dana to stop drawing blood from him and throw her head back a little. For several seconds Loki simply admired her face. Dana wasn't the most beautiful woman he'd met, and neither did she possess the elegance and manners he would usually seek in women. However, Loki could not deny she possessed strong sexual appeal. Dana had some kind of wild beauty with her thick wavy hair, unusual cat-like eyes, and generous curves. Now she looked even better with the multi-colored soft light of the panels flickering on her swarthy skin, her lips slightly swollen from long aggressive kisses, and the usually oblong pupils dilated so much that a thin gold rim was all that remained of her iris.

What a ravishing sight...

"You're not the first to say that,” she said in a low voice and with a smug smirk on her puffy lips.

Loki cursed inwardly. Thoughts aloud... Just what he lacked. Since when does he say exactly what he thinks? Damn this woman. This, damn her, wild, ravishing, gorgeous woman...

"I have no doubt about it. You truly are a sight for sore eyes. Although I must confess, you would look far more ravishing bound and gagged. Have any of your previous men ever told you that biting was not a good thing?" he asked, licking the blood from his lip and noting to himself that the bite had been almost completely healed by now.

"Trickster," Dana said in a low, sensual voice and changed the angle of her grinding a little bit so that she made direct contact with the hardness in his pants. Loki's breath stopped for a second, his grip on her hair weakening. The woman smirked and moved her face closer, almost brushing his lips with hers, "I did such things to them they would not care even about a gnawed throat."

"Is this just a guess or do you know for sure from life experience?"

"A guess. Although..." her hands stopped gripping his shoulders and crawled to his bare neck. The same sharp nails that had been almost cutting through his leather attire were now caressing his skin. She then lowered her head and put her mouth on the man's throat not as much kissing him there as letting him feel the tips of her teeth. "I don't mind gaining some life experience as well should you provoke me."

Loki shuddered, feeling goosebumps on his skin. It wasn't because he feared she would gnaw his throat. No, he was actually excited to feel those teeth on him. The trickster was not excited about the perspective of being bit, of course - it was more about the possibility: understanding that he could be bitten, but wouldn't be. Dana could indeed cause him serious harm, and knowing that he was now toying with real danger stimulated the god in a way nothing else ever could. No other partner - male or female - has ever made him feel this... this much. Never had Loki felt this much desire and excitement. Well, if only for a throne... ahem, that is for being his brother's equal. And maybe for the Tesseract. But never for a living being, that's for certain.

"As much as I like your smart, albeit poisonous mouth, and what you do with it,” Loki clenched her soft hair into his fist and pulled, forcing the woman to throw her head back more and present her neck to him. He was so glad she hadn't put on that turtleneck... He slowly drew a line from her jugular cavity to the delicate skin under her chin with the tip of his nose and left a wet kiss there, causing Dana to make a sharp breath. Loki chuckled, memorizing the sensitive spot. He intended to find more of them. “But I like my throat safe and sound. Yours, on the contrary… ” the trickster's lips moved to the point where her pulse was beating. This time the kiss was less gentle, though not painful either. He clearly intended to leave a mark there, but didn't want to overstep. After all, the man had no idea how much of his physical strength he could use with her. For now. "Yours can be embellished a little."

"You wanted to sa... ah," another kiss, stronger than the previous one, right next to the earlobe, "spoiled?"

"I know what I wanted to say,” the trickster whispered in her ear and bit her earlobe hard enough to make the woman hiss (and give his hair a painful tug). After researching the area more thoroughly with his tongue, Loki discovered that she was not wearing any earrings. Moreover, the ears were not even pierced.

In fact, he had never seen Dana wear any jewelry at all. However, thinking was now the last thing on his mind, especially thinking about such things as jewelers. And to be completely honest, he had no intentions to indulge in any thinking activities. Certainly not now, when he finally had his hands on this gorgeous, hot (literally) woman who made such sweet sounds every time he stumbled upon a particularly sensitive spot. 

However, Dana had also found one sensitive - and rather hard - spot of his and was now grinding against it again in the most provocative way. She was putting just the right amount of pressure to make Loki hiss with his eyes shut in pleasure. It's been a while since he had indulged in sexual activities, and the feeling was a bit overwhelming. Or maybe, it all had to do with the fact that it was Dana with whom he was now indulging in debauchery. Loki didn't know, and, frankly, didn't care. Not now, when he was being teased by the woman he liked and hated at the same time. At some moment, he found out that his hands had moved down to her backside. She had a lovely ass, he had to admit. Round and firm, and the trickster rather enjoyed squeezing it.

He wondered briefly if he could spank it. Norns knew, this impudent, bitchy woman needed to be taught some discipline, and Loki was ready to take this burden on his shoulders (or rather in his hands). His head was instantly filled with appealing images of his hands landing repeatedly on the hot, firm flesh of the woman's backside with audible smacks and of this very woman whimpering sweetly into his ear after each slap. The fantasy made the trickster moan aloud, the tightness in his pants growing more uncomfortable with every moment. The image of him lying in pain on the floor of the hotel room after their recent fight, on the other hand, came just as instantly and made him cool down a little bit. Well, he definitely could spank Dana right now, but then her lovely ass could very well be the last thing he ever touched with his hand.

Maybe, another time, Loki thought. After we get to know each other in this new sense more intimately. 

And he was really looking forward to knowing her more intimately.

For now, he was more than content with what he had. The woman straddling him definitely knew how to drive a man mad with desire. She would change the pressure and the tempo of her grinding to keep him on edge. Keeping both of them on edge, the trickster noted to himself, since he had yet to see her cum. They were so close their foreheads were almost touching. The woman's darkened eyes were staring right into his, and he couldn't look away. It was hypnotizing. He could see everything in those eyes: her confidence, her pleasure, her passion, her desire, her determination to win (whatever game or competition they were now having). Dana's eyes seemed to be the mirror of her soul, showing all of her emotions. That was a whole new level of honesty, and it felt even more intimate than their dry-humping. Loki was panting loudly against her lips, his hips moving in sync with hers. He had no idea if it was because of Dana's incredible sexual experience, or it was because he just hadn't had this experience for too long, but Loki couldn't recall the last time he felt as good as he did now. No, not good. Great. Wonderful. Delightful. And they both were still fully clothed...

Speaking of clothes… The trickster looked with some displeasure at the white fabric of the tank top - the same one that was on her in their first meeting, with a ginger cat on it. He squeezed her ass again, feeling the rough fabric of her jeans under his palms. Somewhere in the back of his subconscious, there was the realization that Dana looked the same way she had on the day (night) of their first meeting. Except, perhaps, for shoes. But that was not the point now. The truly important thing was that their clothes got in the way, to put it mildly. First of all, Dana's clothes. We shall fix it…

So, he did just that. And a painful tug on his hair followed immediately.

“Your dimensional pockets,” the woman hissed quietly, "had better be well organized, unlike usual bachelor apartments. I want to have my top and jeans back after we're done."

"How did you..." he wanted to ask how she understood what exactly he had done with her clothes - although, not with all the clothes, as he suddenly realized, stumbling across the lace underwear - but decided that they could chat later. "You'll get them back, don't worry."

“It's not me who should worry."

Loki decided to leave that phrase unanswered. Taking the fact it was him and Dana, they had every chance of losing themselves not in carnal pleasures but in another verbal skirmish. Not that he didn't like their arguments - on the contrary, he quite enjoyed them. However, in order to be a worthy opponent, one needs to be able to think well and quickly. And in the given circumstances, Loki could emerge victorious from an intellectual duel only with Thor. And there was no guarantee. Half-naked Dana that was pulling back his strands and teasingly moving her hips deprived the trickster of the ability to think normally.

When he finally broke the kiss, Loki pulled back slightly and put his hand on where her heart was. Well, where it supposedly should have been: the existence of this woman's heart was a controversial issue. 

"Heh," he smiled with satisfaction, feeling a strong, rhythmic beating under his palm. "Not so heartless after all, are we?"

"Surprised, are we?" she asked, raising her eyebrow.

"Well, I suspected so," he said, removing his hand from her chest and immediately replacing it with his mouth, leaving a long, wet kiss in the valley between her breasts. The skin there was even hotter. "I did say you were a ni..."

Dana pulled Loki by the hair with enough force to make him hiss and gagged him in the same way he had gagged her not that long ago, biting his lip with enough force to draw blood again. Her nails were scratching his scalp harder this time, with a clear intention to deliver more discomfort than pleasure. This woman made her displeasure very obvious.

Although, if she continues to show her displeasure in this way, I'm ready to spoil her mood all day and night - even though there's a high probability that I will suffer mild blood loss from her bites. It would be a lie to say he had a thing for dominant partners, as he didn't like to be under anyone's control, but he did enjoy a challenge. And that's what Dana was - a challenge. Their making out reminded Loki of the quarrels they usually had. She made him fight for every ounce of dominance, and the harder the fight was, the more he enjoyed his prize (if he won, that is). They were not a pair of a dominant and a submissive - they were two dominants fighting for the leading position. They were equals. And Loki suddenly realized that he enjoyed it more than he did being the sole leader.

Dana's fingers finally left his hair alone and were now trying to dispose of his clothes. And judging by the low sounds that she was making through a kiss, she had not achieved any desired results yet. For a second he could swear he had disassembled "damn Asgardian threads..." It made him grin through a kiss, which hadn't gone unnoticed. The woman stopped tormenting his lips (though he would not call their kissing a torment) and looked at him with a disgruntled squint.

"I can't do the same trick with your… ammunition that you have done with my clothes,” she said. “So, trickster, either you use your magic, or I use my claws and teeth."

"Well, since you asked so nicely", a couple of seconds of green overflow and no trace of clothes remained. "Are you satisfied?"

Loki, for example, was more than satisfied with the view before him.

"I don't remember asking you to remove my lingerie as well."

"I just decided to simplify the life for both of us," the trickster shrugged his shoulders and slowly outlined the form of her breasts, no longer hidden by that huge misunderstanding Midgardians called 'clothes'. Dana's breasts were just as lovely as her rear. Round, full, and firm with pretty dark nipples hardening as he teased them with his cool thumbs. "Or did you want me to use my teeth instead?"

“Perhaps,” she replied with a sly grin, covering his hands with hers and guiding them to grope her breasts the way she wanted. The lower part of her body resumed its grinding movements against his now bare lap. Considering the content sounds the woman was making, she gave zero damn about how wanton she looked at the moment. One could even assume she enjoyed behaving that way.

“You don’t have a single drop of shame, do you?" he asked while stroking her breasts.

"Not the tiniest one," she replied in an almost purring voice. Yes, she was definitely enjoying herself.

"Perfect."

Loki pinched her nipples, making the woman inhale sharply, and pressed his lips to her throat, nibbling the tender skin on his way down. One of his hands returned to the soft hair to keep Dana's head from moving too much (namely, to keep her teeth from drawing too much of his blood), and the other one was making its way down the curve of her waist to the wide hips. She was still grinding herself against his lap, and he could feel her arousal on his skin. Loki took some time to stroke her thigh and then slid his hand between the woman's legs. Long dexterous fingers delved into her core with ease thanks to how aroused she was already.

“So wet…” the trickster said contentedly, slowly exploring the new territory with his fingers and deriving the most exquisite sounds from the woman's mouth. His own mouth, on the other hand, had some unfinished business with her breasts. Deciding to give Dana a taste of her own pills, he bit her nipple a little harder than needed, forcing her to tighten around his fingers and let out a low growl. Loki grinned, pleased with the result. "Like to bite others, but do not like it when others bite you, hm?" he liked the bitten peak and repeated the same actions with its twin, deriving the same reaction again. "My-my, aren't you a hypocrite?"

In response, one of Dana's hands found its way to his hair, clutching and pulling it forcefully, while another hand was sliding down his pecs to his abs, tickling the skin with her nails. She had spent some time exploring the area before moving further down and wrapping her fingers around his cock. Now, it was Loki's turn to growl. Dana's fingers were no less dexterous than his, and they were also hot. Just like the rest of her.

“Damn you, woman…” he whispered, closing his eyes in bliss. She was stroking him slowly, almost lazily, adding the perfect amount of pressure where needed. It was definitely not her first hand-job. And something was telling him it wasn't even the hundredth one. Not that Loki was complaining, mind you...

"I'll take that as a compliment," she answered, breathing heavily, and pulled him to her with the hand in his hair for another kiss. Loki moaned into her mouth as her other hand picked up the pace, getting him almost to the point of orgasm, only to slow down again. 

He opened his eyes and looked at her accusingly. She just grinned at him again, clearly enjoying his discontent, her skillful hand continuing to stroke his cock in the most teasing way. Devious woman, damn her. Loki decided to pay her in kind, scissoring his fingers inside her and putting his thumb on her clit. He rubbed it rhythmically, increasing her pleasure, and when he saw she was close, the trickster pulled his thumb away and stilled the movements of his fingers. The look on Dana's face at that moment was priceless. The woman then tried to move her hips to get more friction, but he stilled her movements with his other hand. She was breathing loudly, her hot, wet walls were contracting desperately around his unmoving fingers, and her dark eyes seemed to be trying to burn a hole in him. Loki had already known he liked angry Dana pretty much. But now he decided that he liked this Dana much more. This wanton and aroused woman with lust-filled eyes was truly a sight to behold. And she was also hot. Like, very hot. So hot that the windows of their ship were fogged up, and Loki could even feel a thin layer of sweat covering him. Her skin on his felt like fire.

He could only imagine how it would feel to be inside her. The very thought made his cock twitch in the woman's hand, which did not go unnoticed if the teasing grin she gave him was anything to judge by.

"It's been a long time since you last had sex, hasn't it?" Dana asked in a soft, purring voice. The grip of her fingers on his cock became weaker, making the caress lighter and the tease - worse.

"Define long," Loki growled. His grip on her hip became tighter while his other hand had left the wet heat of her core and was resting on her inner thigh.

"Weeks," she answered. "Perhaps, months."

Loki could not help arching an eyebrow. This was what she considered a long time?

"Weeks and months can hardly be considered a long time, bitch. Especially in the context of sexual encounters."

"Well, for me, they certainly are considered a long time, trickster. Especially in the context of sexual encounters."

"Is sex such a vital part of your life?" he asked.

"You have no idea," the woman replied. "And you didn't answer my question. When was the last time you had sex, trickster? Certainly, it wasn't recently."

Today was one of those rare moments when Loki decided to tell the truth right away. Plus, sex was not a topic he could discuss with many people in his life. Not that there had been a lot of things to discuss lately since the last couple of years of his life had been far from being filled with carnal pleasure.

"Years ago," the trickster finally answered.

"No wonder you've been such a dick," Dana murmured. "I would be far moodier had I been deprived of orgasms for fuckin' years. Hell, I would hardly survive even half of a year."

Looks like sex is indeed that important to her, Loki thought with a smile. It explains the experience.

"Obscene woman," he said without a single hint of complaint in his voice.

"I just like sex," she put her hand on his lower stomach, nails ticking his abs, while her other hand resumed its teasing ministrations on his cock. Loki shivered. "It makes me feel good," her hand started its slow way up, "so, so good," her fingers gripped his shoulder before sliding down his arm. "And I like feeling good. I think you love it too, trickster, don't you?" her thumb circled the head of his cock, making him moan. "Sex itself feels quite good, but you know what feels even better? Orgasms. I fuckin' love orgasms," Dana gripped the hand that was resting on her inner thigh. "And I hate being denied them."

He felt her moving his hand to her core. The trickster didn't try to resist her unspoken demand nor did he try to rake the lead here. Instead, he let the woman on his lap use his hand for her pleasure. And she sure as Hel was enjoying herself. Dana wasn't shy to demand the pleasure nor did she try to hide it. He could see it on her face, in her eyes, heard it in her heavy breaths and soft moaning sounds. The sight was so fascinating that Loki didn't even mind her other hand teasing his cock. He had considered taking the matter in his free hand and making her cease the tease, but combined with the view he was now presented with he would reach his end too soon for his liking. Not that his stamina wouldn't fix the situation in a matter of minutes, but he wished to see this woman come undone first. He wanted to see her stripped of her usual smugness and overconfidence if even for mere moments.

So he let her guide his hand and derive her pleasure from it while he was watching her reactions, memorizing the ways she liked to be touched. His other hand, which had been holding her hips in place the whole time, snaked up her waist to one of her breasts, giving the flesh a gentle squeeze before sharply pinching her hard nipple. Dana hissed at him, strengthening her grip on his cock for a second, and then removed her hand altogether, digging her nails into his thigh. Loki wasn't sure if he was glad she had ceased her teasing or not. Either way, he was glad she hadn't decided to use her teeth instead the nails.

Loki was sure such lenience had something to do with their joined hands between her legs. Pleased Dana - pleasing Dana.

Smirking to himself, the trickster stroked the abused nipple with his thumb, making the woman moan softly and ease the grip on his thigh. Her second breast received the same treatment. He was watching her face closely. She was close, he could tell: her breathing was sharper and more shallow, her moans were more frequent now, and her heavy-lidded eyes, though still keeping contact with his, seemed to have lost their focus. 

Yes, he decided then, this was absolutely worth postponing his own pleasure.

Loki left her breasts alone and moved his hand up to her throat, circling it gently. He could feel her pulse under his thumb - it was so quick that he would have worried for her if they were in different circumstances. But now it just added to his satisfaction, knowing that he had brought this woman to this state. 

He also knew that his state was not much better than hers, but he decided not to dwell on it. Instead, he took hold of the back of her neck and pulled Dana towards him, sealing their lips in a longing kiss.

She leaned into him with all of her body, moaning into his mouth. That sound went straight to his loins, eliciting a growl from his chest. Dana's hand was still on his thigh, but their torsos were so close that he could feel each move of her hips which caused her stomach to make contact with his cock. That was an even worst tease than her hand had been.

His grip on her neck tightened and he kissed her more aggressively, alternating between licking and tugging at her lips with his teeth. Dana didn't seem to mind, giving just as good as she took. Her hips were getting more and more frantic when she broke the kiss abruptly, her lips slightly parted and eyes rolling back, her body suddenly becoming completely still save for her chest moving in rhythm with her heavy breathing. 

Loki swallowed a lump in his throat, unable to move, his eyes fixed on the woman that had just cum atop of him. 

"Orgasms do look good on you," his voice sounded like gravel. Though, "good" didn't even begin to describe the way she looked right now. And she looked divine. The fact that she was silent also contributed to this, although Loki had decided that he didn't mind it when she moaned. "Like this, you make it easy to forget what an insufferable bitch you truly are."

Somehow that didn't ruin the mood. If anything, his words made Dana smirk, her gaze focused again. He felt his hand - the one that was still between her legs - being pulled by her grip on his wrist until his soaked fingers appeared between their faces. Slowly, Dana leaned closer, and then, not breaking eye contact, she took his fingers in her mouth. One by one.

Loki watched in awe as she sucked his digits clean while looking him straight in the eye with not the slightest bit of shame. Though, in Dana's case, not the slightest bit of shame was an understatement. That was the most erotic sight he had seen in his life - and he had been with plenty of both women and men. 

If such things are considered normal in Midgard, then I think I understand now why Thor would run there to his Lady of Science at every opportunity, he thought, enjoying the erotic performance. Asgard needs to rethink its patriarchal values. As soon as possible. They will be thankful for this later. 

Dana released the last finger with a wet "pop" and made a show of slowly licking her lips.

"Shall I remind you then?" she asked in a deep, husky voice that sounded almost male-like. Her hands landed on his shoulders, stroking them gently. "Shall I use you, hm?" she used his shoulders as a prop to lift her hips and position herself right above his cock, letting its tip touch her wet folds. Loki moaned, his hands immediately at her waist uncertain of either holding her still or trying to push her lower. "To get more pleasure," she rubbed herself against his length, covering it in her arousal, "to get myself another orgasm..." the woman sighed when his cock grazed her sensitive clit. She repeated the motion a few more times, leaning her head to him so that their noses were mere inches apart, and whispered: "And then just leave you to yourself like an insufferable bitch that I am?" 

"Or," he said, moving his hands from her waist down to her hips, "I shall use you," he applied more strength to make Dana still, "for my pleasure."

With these words, Loki used his grip on her hips to position the woman exactly where he needed her before forcefully lowering her onto his cock, eliciting moans from both of them.

"Norns, you're hot," he whispered in awe, thrusting into her from the bottom up. "So fucking hot..."

Being with Dana, being inside her, reminded Loki about the rendez-vous with some Vanir - the one at the local hot spring. This woman sure knew how to make a man sweat.

"Asgardian Prince uses Earth's profanity," she smirked, following his lead and meeting his thrusts. "Nice to know you've decided to learn local slang - it'll become a part of your routine when you get in jail."

For a moment, he once again felt the passionate desire to give the woman some good spanking for her insolence. However, passion or not, his sense of self-preservation had always been stronger than his other feelings, so Loki wisely limited himself to a painful pinch he gave one of her cheeks, which made Dana hiss and dig her nails into the skin of his shoulders. 

"'Fucking' is a universal profanity, bitch, just so you know."

"Just so you know, trickster, it is not."

"I've been to many places," he squeezed her bum, enjoying its fullness and the feel of her hot smooth skin, "and I've heard that word many times. Midgard is just one of the realms that have it in their languages. So, it is a universal profanity, trust me."

"God of Lies indeed," she murmured under her breath. "You've been hearing it all wrong."

"Are you saying I have problems with hearing?"

"More like problems with translation," Dana's hips slowed down so much Loki could barely feel her moving. He groaned, looking at the woman with clear objection in his eyes. "That Alltongue of yours is worse than Google Translator - it doesn't even let you hear or read the original language."

"Sorry to disappoint you, but that is exactly what the Alltongue exists for - translating foreign languages, both verbal and written, into Asgardian," he was starting to regret having touched this topic in the first place. This woman might be able to switch her attention from sex to an argument without trouble, but Loki wasn't, especially since he had yet to get his first orgasm unlike her. 

"Different languages have different words..."

"No way, bitch."

"Shut up, trickster, and listen to what I'm saying," she said in a demanding tone and looked at him sternly. In any other situation that would irritate him, but here and now that just made her more alluring. Although, Loki noted to himself, in his current state anything would make this woman seem alluring to him.

"I'd rather listen to how you moan," he tightened his grip on her bum, making her rock her hips faster. Dana was resisting his attempts - just out of spite, Loki was sure, because he could see it on her face that she was enjoying the new tempo - but she was more than twice lighter than he, not two mention the difference in their physical strength. "Do you seriously wish to have a talk instead of sex?"

"I can juggle," she replied nonchalantly as if she wasn't currently riding him. Truly, it was fascinating how she could switch her focus from one thing to another in a moment - as if she was a machine with different regimes, which you could switch with a single button. Loki was a skillful talker and also a Prince - that is an inseparable part of all kinds of parley, schemes, and intrigues - but even he wasn't able to change his "masks" this quickly. "The question is, can you?" 

"The question is, do I have to?" to be honest, their conversation was starting to get on his nerves: Dana made it hard to concentrate fully on his pleasure (which was exactly what Loki wanted to do), so instead of finding his relief, the tension was only getting stronger. "I would much rather focus on one thing instead of juggling both."

"Oh, so you'd rather we stop fucking and focus solely on the conversation?" 

"What is wrong with you, woman?" Loki wasn't entirely sure if he had meant it as a rhetorical question or not. "Who in their right mind wishes to discuss linguistics while having sex? Moreover, delaying sex in favor of it?"

"I don't wish to have a discussion with you, trickster," Dana replied, looking at him as if he had just said something stupid (he hated when she looked at him like that, but damn, even that look on her face made her more alluring in his eyes). "I just want to prove my point."

Loki froze, his hands on Dana's backside still. He was looking... no, staring at the woman with a mix of emotions in his eyes. There was shock, uncertainty, and disbelief. He just couldn't believe that she was ready to put sex - an activity that, and the trickster knew it for sure, she absolutely loved - on a pause simply to prove her point! 

She can't be serious, can she? Loki then recalled all the times he had heard her talk or argue. Those memories did nothing to prove Dana had been joking - the woman clearly was ready to defend her point of view in any situation under any circumstances. 

He also recalled that, if Dana truly wished so, she would have no problem getting up from his lap - after all, it's not like Loki would use his physical strength to force her, no matter his attitude towards her - leaving him high and dry, and now he also had no illusions that she actually would do this if she didn't get what she wanted. Loki needed to think, fast - which is a hard task when you're aroused. 

"How about you prove your point after we're done here?" he proposed in a suggestive voice. His hands had come back to life and were now gently stroking her hips and thighs.

The woman put her hands atop his, neither stopping nor trying to guide them, and resumed the slow rocking of her hips. Loki wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad one (although he hoped for the former).

"But here I have your undivided attention," she almost purred with a sinful smile on her bitten puffy lips. "And I don't want to just talk - I want to be listened to."

"So demanding," he smirked. 

"You have no idea, trickster."

"I think, I do, bitch," he moved his hands up to cup her breasts, squeezing them lightly. "But you are not the only one who has demands."

"Oh?" she tilted her head, her own hands still atop his, helping them caress her breasts.

"Yes. You want my attention, and I want my pleasure. Grant me my wish, and I'll grant you yours."

"And why shall you be granted your wish first?" there was no hint of indignation in her voice, just pure curiosity and maybe a bit of playfulness. Now, that was definitely a good thing.

"Because, while my attention at the moment is indeed undividedly yours, it is mostly focused on the way your hot quim feels around my cock," unlike usual, this time Loki decided that truth was the best policy. "And I doubt it will shift toward linguistics or any other topic, for that matter, should you start proving your point right now. Most probably, while you are talking, I will simply look at you and imagine all the things I would rather do with you - and to you - instead of listening to your point, which means that your point will be missed and all of your talking will be just that - talking."

She gave him a strange look. He noticed suspicion and... approval? Did this woman just agree with him, albeit not in a verbal way? Looks like truth is indeed the best policy. With this woman, anyway.

"You make a good point," she nodded. Loki, though, wasn't sure how to react: on the one hand, it was pleasant to hear an almost-compliant from this woman; on the other hand, her almost complimenting him on something couldn't help but arouse suspicion. "Here's the deal then: I stop withholding your pleasure and give you the best orgasm you've had in your life, and then you heed my every word until I have proven my point."

"The best orgasm I've had in my life?" he raised an eyebrow at her words. This woman's self-confidence was unparalleled. "You sound way too sure of yourself, bitch."

His words did nothing to decrease her confidence. Quite the opposite, she lowered her head to him and smiled knowingly.  

"Mark my words, trickster."

She kissed him then, leaning into him, his hands on her breasts now trapped between their bodies. Her own hands had relocated to his hair and were now using it to hold his head in place while her tongue was exploring his mouth.

But what almost made Loki lose his mind were her hips. Or rather the way she was moving them. It wasn't even the figures she was making with them (although those were fantastic), it was the pressure. The trickster had not known that women had muscles there, much less that they could control them.  

At a certain moment, he even wondered where Dana had learned all that - or from whom.

Not that it mattered, really. Whoever had taught this woman how to fuck had Loki's most sincere gratitude. Because he was feeling fucking great. So great that he couldn't even recall why he hated this woman. Yes, she was a real bitch, obscene and overconfident, with a sharp venomous tongue and the most wonderful hips in the universe, but right now Loki loved absolutely everything about her. Especially her hips. These wonderful, delightful, magical hips, which feel so fucking fantastic...

The orgasm made his mind a blank space for a few moments. The pleasure washing over him was so intense he wasn't able to conjure a single thought, not to mention to move a single muscle. The feeling was good, though: his body completely relaxed, no tension, no worries, just pure bliss and serenity. It wasn't until a minute later that he regained his ability to think properly.

I should have done it earlier, Loki thought. Though, he wasn't sure if he had meant sex in general, or sex with Dana. 

Speaking of... The woman in question was looking at him triumphantly, clearly pleased with herself. Well, this time, Loki was pleased with her as well. Very much so.

"Sooo?" the woman drawled expectantly.

"So what?" 

"I'm waiting."

"Waiting for what?" he inquired, raising an eyebrow. It took him a second to recall that he hadn't felt her cum. Not this time, anyway. "One more orgasm for you?"

"Well, just one more definitely won't do for me, but I'm gonna get my share a bit later - after I'm done proving my point about that Alltongue of yours," she said nonchalantly, though Loki could see it in her dilated pupils that she was aroused. "Right now, I'm waiting for something else."

"If you are not going to be a little more specific, you'll be waiting for whatever it is you're waiting now for quite some time, bitch."

"Admission, trickster," her words made him frown in confusion. "I want you to admit I was right."

"About what?" either the woman was speaking in riddles on purpose or the mindblowing orgasms had put Loki's thinking capabilities at the same level as his brother's. The latter option was dreadful.

"About giving you the best orgasm you've had in your life." 

The trickster looked at her, surprised. There hadn't been a trace of questioning intonation in her voice: she hadn't asked if she had given him the best orgasm of his life - she'd claimed that she had. 

Just how vain is this woman? 

"I don't remember saying that was the best orgasm of my lif-"

"I had already said that for you, trickster, before I got you the said orgasm" she interrupted him, still wearing that victorious and smug look on her face. Insufferable bitch.

"... neither do I remember you asking me if that was indeed the best orgasm I've ever had," Loki finished his line having ignored the interruption.

"People ask questions when they don't know the answers or they want to confirm their suspicions. I already know the answer and I don't need your confirmation to erase my doubts - I never had any in the first place."

"Then what is the point in all this admittance if have no use of it?"

"I don't want you to confirm that it was indeed the best orgasm you've ever had, I want you to admit that I was right," her gaze became more intense. Her eyes seemed almost hypnotic. "I want to hear you say it, trickster. I want you to hear yourself say it. To admit it aloud." 

She just loves being right all the time, doesn't she? Normal women wait for hearing "I love you" or other words of affection after having a sexual encounter, but this bitch just wants to hear "You were right". I won't be surprised if those words actually turn her on.

And while Loki was not against using his tongue for flattery and compliments (both deserved and not really), especially when it came to women, Dana was a whole other case. Firstly, he wasn't one of the many ladies in court whom he would be able to easily avoid or ignore after their affair - they were doomed to put up with each other's company for a few months until they arrived to Midgard. Or unless there was an accident (or not an accident) leading to his or her premature death

And secondly, their affair wasn't a one-time thing - of that Loki was certain. And it wasn't about their second round - which would undoubtedly come in the nearest future, namely when the woman was done with her lecture about the Alltongue - the trickster was going to make it their new routine, because no way in Hel was he going to miss such an opportunity. He might hate this woman's insufferable character and sharp tongue, but there was no denying that he found her sexually appealing - not after what they had done just minutes ago. This bitch was indeed the best shag in his life. So much so, that when they shagged, he could easily forget about her insufferable bitchy personality. 

All in all, it would be a waste to continue to argue and fight on their way to Midgard when they could argue, fight, and fuck. It would make their co-existing on the same ship much more bearable and, dare he even say it, enjoyable.

However, getting back to the point, since Loki had already decided that he would deal with Dana much more often than before, telling this woman that she had been right would give her another victory, something she could and would use against him in the future. So, no.

"You'll manage without it, bitch," he told her with a sugar-sweet smile. "Now, start your To-Prove-My-Point lecture on Alltongue so that we can start the second round, where you can get yourself another orgasm - or several. You've got all of my attention."

Chapter Text

The fact that the night ended and the morning began, Loki and Dana realized only because they suddenly became better able to see each other: the faded light somehow managed to seep inside the spaceship through a thick layer of snow on the windshield. It would not hurt them to find out why most of the electrical appliances were covered, and to remove all the same snow from the windows, but sex tends to exhaust people. Especially if you do it all night in a row (with short breaks for arguments, of course). And nights on Bluin were proven to last far longer than usual ones...

Now two lovers... though no, there was as much love between them as there was shame in Dana. Then, two frien... neither there was enough friendship. Well, you can't just say "two -hell-knows-who-and-how", can you? In general, a man and a woman (there, it seems, everything is right) were now laying on a cold metal floor - although under the woman this floor was palpably warmer - and breathed heavily after their... ehem, long physical and acrobatic exercises, which people under the age of 18 should not be allowed to watch.

"If I'd known this was going to end this way," Loki began, keeping his eyes on the ceiling. The last time he lay like that was after the Hulk had used him as a hammer to damage the floor of the Stark Tower, "I would have kissed you on the first day we met."

"If you did, you would still be lying in a hospital bed," Dana said, continuing to breathe the air with her mouth. "One guy once gave too much freedom to his frisky hands, even though I said "no" very clearly. I kicked him in the balls so hard I sprained my ankle."

"That's harsh."

"I've never been famouse for being gentle."

"Yeah," said trickster, recalling how many times the woman had bitten him, scratched him, or tried to just hurt him. "I've noticed."

"I don't remember you objecting," she chuckled.

"I don't remember saying that harsh is bad."

"Yeah, I've noticed that you like it rough."

"Who would say," Loki chuckled back.

Dana looked down at her body. She had a couple of dark red kissing marks on her chest and stomach, and on her neck and shoulder blades, where she really couldn't see them. There were similar marks on the thighs, though not from kisses, but from fingers, which sometimes had clenched too tightly. However, she did not complain. She had more serious injuries (which, however, she did not complain about either). Once, during sex, one of her partners squeezed her wrist so hard that he accidentally broke the bone. Dana only noticed the injury when she reached out to brush the hair from her forehead after they had finished. Sex was one of the few circumstances under which the woman could forgive a somewhat... rude treatment of herself. First, she loved sex in all its forms. For her, there were no such concepts as "too shameful", "too perverse" or simply "too". Here Dana was perhaps the most tolerant living being. Second, pleasure, as a rule, drowned out the pain completely and thoroughly.

And with Loki, she received a lot of this pleasure. Dana's physical endurance exceeded that of a human by two or three times, but the trickster's endurance was five times higher than her own. It was not even worth talking about physical strength. The woman really had more than enough sexual experience, but she very rarely came across partners whose own experience in this area exceeded several dozens. Loki, on the other hand, was over a thousand years old.

And he obviously didn’t just read books all this time, thought the brown-haired woman, rising from the floor. Or rather, didn't only read books.

"Where are you going?" Loki asked immediately, taking a sitting position and materializing back his clothes. For some reason, he was in no hurry to do the same trick with a woman.

"Well, the storm, judging by the sounds, has died down, it's already morning, we need to get to Uinbjerg to start looking for the Hulk, and we still have nothing but the engine and lights working," Dana answered, stretching. Considering that she has not yet had a single piece of clothing, the trickster has received another "delightful sight" in his collection. “So I'm going to climb onto the ship now and check the vents. Something tells me that our electronics fucked up because of the snow, which first accumulated in them, and then melted. And you can clean the windows at this time."

"Are you going out like this?" he arched an eyebrow.

"Do you have something against?" she arched an eyebrow in response.

"And does it matter to you?"

"Not even a bit".

Dana was right. There was too much snow in the exhaust vents. Snow itself is not harmful to the details of the starship. Unlike water, which it turns into, heating up near these very parts. A little more, and the water would get into the engine compartment and the ship would be screwed. It took an hour to evaporate all the unnecessary moisture, after which two sleepy, but not at all dissatisfied with this fact, members of the search team finally took off.

This time the flight took place in silence. Mainly because Dana, throwing something like: “Wake me up when we arrive. Or when we get into an aircrash ”, threw her legs on a place free from buttons (at least from too important buttons) on the front panel and plunged into a doze.

Loki couldn't help but smile. She fell asleep in his presence. In the case of this woman, it was a hell of a sign of trust. Or maybe she's just a hell of a tired. The thought caused the trickster to change his smile from just satisfied to smug. Dana, of course, had an incredible amount of strength, energy and heat, but Loki had much more of them. Of the first two for sure.

Although, it would be a lie to say that he is not tired at all. His whole body was still filled with pleasent languor. And every time he glanced towards the dozing woman in the next seat, languor was suppressed by the heat in the lower abdomen. After yesterday night (and a part of today morning too) the trickster could not look at Dana the same way as before. And he will hardly ever be amble to. Unless he forgets how he kissed this woman tirelessly, how he squeezed her hot body in his hands, how she moaned and wriggled on top of him, and then against him and under him... Hell, no. Loki was more likely to forget how to use magic than what happened between them.

This woman is unforgettable, thought the trickster, casting a glance at her again, and, rather out of habit, added: Damn her.

Brunnhilde looked uneasily at the clock. Next to her, sitting at a new table in the newly furnished kitchen (thanks Dana for that), Thor was having breakfast, although from the outside it looked like he alone was forced to eat all that was left from the New Year's table- because “Well, we can't just throw it away! So, eat before it goes bad!”- after putting it all on one single plate. Or on some other dish, the Valkyrie could not see. In Asgard, if you can see what the plate is made of, then the portion is too small.

"Are you sure you don't want some?" Thor asked for about the third time, grabbing the fork. Although, perhaps, a pitchfork would be more suitable here.

“Not hungry yet,” Brunnhilde shrugged.

"Are you sure you're fine?" there was a genuine unease in the thunder god's voice. Bad appetite is a very bad sign for asgardians.

"Yes, I'm just... I'm just worried about Dana. Well, and Loki," she hurried to add. "They haven't been there for more than a day".

"Well, the search, after all, is not fast."

"Fast if you have an animal sense of smell."

"Loki has no animal sense of smell," Thor frowned. On an empty stomach he thought badly... that is, even worse than usual.

"I meant Dana."

"Oh."

The next few minutes of silence were disturbed only by vigorous chewing and occasional slurping. In Brunnhilde's head, the thought process has long forgotten the word "stop". Something lately she has started to think too much... And never once touched alcohol since the time she and Dana had had a booze, although the drinks they had on the ship (namely in her bedroom) were enough to plunge a small country into an alcohol abuse.

And what the hell is going on with me...the Valkyrie sighed, reclining on the back of her chair. She was worried about a friend. And most of all she was worried about worrying about a friend. It's not someone like Thor, it's Dana. And in Dana's case, you should worry not for her, but for those with whom she was now. And now it was Loki who was with her. That's exactely why I'm worried that much...

Not that she didn't trust Loki (within reasonable limits, of course) or Dana. The last Valkyrie trusted even more than herself. It's just that she didn't trust the two of them that much. When they are together, their attention is completely focused on each other. The world around them becomes for them nothing more than a background, a platform for their next game. And this gave cause for concern, because these two, focusing on each other once again, can get - or rather get stuck - in some trouble. Just because they won't notice it, being too busy having another argument. Or a fight. Or both.

And it doesn't matter that they are supposedly having a "first date" now, the Valkyrie added mentally. These two would find a reason to argue and fight even in bed... 

Brunnhilde almost choked on the thought. Rather, from a number of thoughts that followed.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Thor asked again, looking up from his food. "You're kind of red."

“It's hot in here,” the Valkyrie replied quickly, trying to chase away unwelcome thoughts. Well, these two just couldn't... Or could they?

"No," the thunder god answered after a while. "Just like always. Even a little cool, I would say..."

"It. Is. Hot. In. Here."

Perhaps, if Dana were here now, she would be proud of how firm, not accepting objections, Brünnhilde's voice uttered the last phrase, forcing the god of thunder to hunch a little.

"Hot it is. Whatever you say," he answered in one breath, immediately returning to breakfast, noting to himself that he liked the Valkyrie with Dana better. However, next to Dana, Thor, probably, would have liked Hela too. Anyone would seem like an acceptable alternative to this woman.

The road to Uinbjerg took three and a half hours, twenty minutes of which were spent on finding a more or less flat landing site, which was not a parking lot. Of course, the journey to the desired hotel will take them much longer, but they will not have to go through the identity and luggage verification procedure again.

"Hey, wale up," Loki shook the sleeping Dana by her shoulder. "We arrived."

"Mhm..." she muttered indistinctly, frowning with displeasure and opening one eye. "Wow. You managed not to get us into an accident. Good boy."

"Thanks, bitch, I tried."

"And couldn't you try to land this swallow somewhere... I don't know, in the city?"

"I could," said the trickster, turning off the engine. "Would you prefer one of the parking lots with subsequent checkout procedures or a flat roof of some house?"

“I would prefer some vacant lot or playground."

"You mean one of those places with lots of people there?"

"Who immediately scatter when they see that a ship is about to land on their heads."

"It's useless to try to prove anything to you, right?" Loki said somewhat resignedly.

"Why?" the woman grinned. "Learning to prove your point is a very useful skill. Feel free to train it on me."

"The question was rhetorical."

"This does not mean at all it should remain unanswered."

"Is there anything that you leave unanswered?" Loki asked.

"There is."

"And what is that?"

Dana didn't answer. Stretching and yawning widely, she got up from the chair, threw her bag over her shoulder, and headed for the exit. The trickster followed her in silence.

Loki did land the ship not just far away from the center of Uinbjerg, but even from its outskirts. The walk was long. And considering that last night a snowstorm was raging and the snow had time to sweep up to the hips (and in Dana's case, with her meter sixty-two, all way up to the waist), the walk also turned out to be quite difficult.

By the time they got to the hotel where Hulk and Thor and Brunnhilde had been staying, Dana was all soaked. All the way, she had to keep her body temperature high enough to heat not only the air around her, but also the snow in seconds. Only air does not have the habit of turning into the water upon contact with heat, unlike snow. In fact, the woman walked not so much through the snowdrifts as across the river. Cold river, by the way. Snow quickly turns into cold water, but cold water, in turn, turns into warm water rather slowly. Moreover, in such large quantities.

Therefore, once in the hotel lobby, Dana immediately raised her body temperature so that the water on her evaporated in a matter of a few seconds. If she did this on the way here, she would instantly melt snow within a radius of several meters and would find herself in the middle of a shallow, but rapidly expanding lake. The heat was so strong that it was felt not only by Loki, who stood at a distance of two meters from her, but also by everyone who was at that moment in the lobby.

"I will ask this out of pure curiosity," Loki began when Dana, having dried wet clothes and boots, 'cooled down' a bit, "how hot can you get?"

"As hot as a Sun," she replied. "Or even hotter than it, I don't know. Never tried."

"That's... impressive," the trickster summed up.

"Yeah, you can thank my grandfather's genes for that. And mama's as well."

"Will you share some more details?"

"Perhaps," Dana shrugged. "But not now. We didn't come here to chat, remember?"

"Yeah, Hulk," he replied not really happily. "How could I possibly forget?"

"We've all forgotten about him. That's why we're here."

They went to the man who always knows everything about everyone - the bartender. The man behind the counter looked at them with a phlegmatic face. Judging by the level of boredom and general weariness from life in his eyes, the bartender was about seven thousand years old.

"Would you like a drink, sir, ma'am?"

"Milk. Hot," Dana replied, jumping into the high chair. The cup appeared in front of her in less than a minute. The woman immediately raised it to her lips and began to drink in large gulps. A few seconds, and not a single drop of milk was left. "Mmm... yummy! If only you had some cocoa here..."

"We are looking for someone," Loki turned to the man. "Big, green, noisy. Responds to the name Hulk. Have you seen him?"

"Yes, sir. A few days ago. Would you like a drink, sir?"

"No. Did he say where he went next?"

"Yes, he did, sir," the bartender answered in the same monotonous voice. "I can prototype: "Hulk - smash bergs!" I wished him good luck and he left. Would you like a drink, ma'am?"

"More milk," she answered, holding out her empty mug. "Who are the bergs?"

"Local predators. They like in all regions of the planet. One of the most numerous species of local fauna," answered Loki. The woman looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "What? I read it in one of the local encyclopedias. Dangerous creatures."

"Don't worry, sir, ma'am. At the moment, not a single case of an unprovoked attack on a person by a berg has been officially registered."

"Yeah, no shit!"

"Excuse me, ma'am?" a subtle confusion slipped across the bartender's stone face.

“It probably just seems to me this way, but, as for me, the phrase you uttered means something like: not a single person has yet returned from the forest to complain about such an“ unprovoked ”attack,"” Dana said with undisguised sarcasm. "That is, in fact, these bergs only need to choose places for their murders where no one will catch them."

"Ma'am?" well, this phrase could now mean just anything.

"Okay, whatever," the woman waved her off and laid a couple of banknotes on the bar counter. "The milk was good. C'mon, trickster, follow me."

"Where are you going?" Loki asked, following her.

"Firstly, not me, but us. And secondly, what do you mean "where"'? Didn't you hear what that phlegmatic said about our lost one and the local fauna? We go to the forest to help."

“I doubt the Hulk needs our help,” the trickster chuckled, finding himself back in the snow. Considering that this was an urban area, the snow only reached his knees.

“Help the local fauna, trickster,” Dana replied. “Considering how long the Hulk has been walking around here, I doubt very much that bergs are still one of the most numerous species. So we should hurry up. It will be a pity if the poor beasts completely die out."

Chapter Text

"What is the basis of your confidence that we shall move this way?" Loki asked, making his way through the snow drifts. They were heading towards the forest. Only here, in Uinbjerg, whichever direction you turn, you will still go towards the forest. The trees surrounded the city and its surroundings with a solid wall.

"Hope," Dana replied, continuing to walk forward without turning around. "And also my sanity. If the Hulk went to "smash bergs" straight from the bar - which, according to the bartender, he did - then he probably headed towards the forest. And this is the shortest path. The Hulk surely have chosen it."

"Surely? And what does your sense of smell say, and not your sanity?"

"I will ask my sense of smell when we find ourselves in the forest. Now there is no reason to use it."

"So, I get it you don't smell the Hulk?" asked the trickster.

"It's been a few days,” she replied, continuing to purposefully smooth her way and leaving behind a wet path that quickly turned into a slippery one. “Even dogs can only scence a smell not older than a hundred hours. And my sense of smell, even in animal form, is weaker than a dog's by more than one and a half times."

"Then what is the point of using it in the forest? You don't think the smell of the Hulk has decided to stay longer there, do you?"

"Of course no."

"Then how did you plan to look for our unfortunate forgotten?" Loki asked with genuine interest. Sometimes, he did not understand the train of thoughts of this woman completely.

"What do you mean "how"? By the smell, of course!" this time Dana did turned to him, but only to give him a look: 'the fact that you are slow on thinking is clear to me, but is it really that bad?'  "Seriously, trickster, stop blunting, or I would even believe that you and the goldilocks are blood brothers, if I didn't know that you are of different species."

Loki froze abruptly, but continued on his way after a moment. The fact that he and Thor are not brothers was known to almost everyone (except, perhaps, most of the people of Asgard). They didn't hide it too much. Moreover, they did not get tired of reminding about it from time to time. But none of them ever stuttered that the trickster was not Asgardian. Not by birth, at least.

Therefore, for Loki, the news that Dana knew abot it came as a surprise. Whether it was pleasant or not, it was difficult to say so far.

How did she know about this? he thought, glaring at the back of the woman walking in front. She didn't learn it from me, that's for sure. And not from Thor: he avoids it just like mental activity. Valkyrie is also swept aside: she is not aware of this at all. And with Heimdall this woman, it seems, has not yet had time to cross paths...

"It's all about the smell,” Dana said suddenly. “You and your brother smell differently."

"I didn't ask anything,” the trickster replied in an indifferent tone.

"You didn't ask very loudly."

The silence resumed again. But not for very long.

"Don't all people smell differently?" Loki asked, adding a little step to level himself. But not very much. He liked to wade through the snow more than through the water, which it turned into due to the heat exuded by Dana.

"Yes, but each has, say, a common basis for determining the species. It is the same for all individuals within the same species," explained the brown-haired woman. "Your brother and my sweetie friend have the same basis. And yours is different from theirs."

"So you know who I am?"

"If you mean whether I know what species you belong to, then the answer is no. I may have visited many places and met many people, but I do not know the smells and other distinctive features of all existing species in this multiple universe. I have not yet come across such a smell like yours."

They went on their way again in silence. This time, the silence lasted longer.

“And you…” Loki began cautiously. "Would you like to know?"

"And what would be the point?" Dana shrugged. “I already know everything I need about you: your voice, your smell, your annoying temper, your magic. And the name of the species, after all, is nothing more than just a word. So if you think that educating me in more detail about yourself will make me start treating you in a special way, then you are wrong, trickster. Such trifles don't bother me."

"Is the species a trifle for you?"

"Yep. Just like gender, race, nationality and sexual orientation. Oh yes! And titles and statuses can be added to this list too."

"Then, what matters to you?" the trickster chuckled. "Please, don't say it's the soul?"

"And what does it has to do with all these?" the woman frowned in response. "No, the soul matters a little to me too. In fact, without a consciousness it is nothing more than energy. But consciousness, on the other hand, matters to me. The mind. What person thinks and how. Actions are also important. Attitude towards yourself and others. Motives and intentions. Character. And the level of idiocy, of course. This is just incredibly important."

Loki listened to her and could not help but feel a bit of ... genuine admiration. He more than once heard such speeches about the fact that it is not what is outside that is important, but what is inside, and so on and so forth ... But he never met someone who would not only speak, but also do. Not only was there not a drop of lies in Dana's words - he would know - but her actions, come to think of it, confirmed her every word. This woman did not give a shit about who you were: a Valkyrie, a king of Asgard, a magician, a human, a Hulk or whoever else - she will still sting at you and show her displeasure. And from time to time you will most likely be called an idiot. Dana seemed to regard everyone around her as idiots (to one degree or another).

But, strangely, the realization of this fact was... reassuring. The tension, which, as it became clear, was present in him from the moment he realized that she knew about his origin, was gone now. Loki felt more comfortable with himself than ever. He was absolutely sure that if he now showed Dana his true appearance, then her whole reaction would be reduced to a raised eyebrow and words like: "And?" or “If you meant to impress me, you failed. Try something better." This woman would not be frightened (Loki generally doubted that it was possible to scare her with anything) and would not judge. It really wouldn't matter to her. As if he just changed one suit for another.

Perhaps this is what attracts people to her the most. Confidence. Feeling safe. With Dana, you could be yourself and not be afraid that you would be somehow condemned or prejudiced. She did not judge others for who they were and did not care about any judgments of others about herself.

And here Loki, who at one time spent a lot of time trying to impress others, envied her a little bit.

"You are gorgeous woman," he said, knowing full well that she hears every word.

"I know. Although I must admitt, such compliments from you are alarming."

"Last night — and this morning too, for that matter — I complimented you more than once."

"I bet you did!" she exclaimed, grinning. "We were having sex. It would be alarming not to hear any compliments. But compliments during sex don't count. As well as insults."

"Oh really? I'll keep it in mind," Loki grinned back. "Next time I'll tell you a few less pleasant words."

"Trickster, that was one night stand. Okay, in our case, maybe one night and half the morning stnd, but that's not the point. There will be no next time."

For about two minutes Loki was performing the miniature "a man to the waist in the snow with an open mouth and frowning eyebrows", and then the multiple gears in his head set to work. The statement was clearly not to his liking. Not that he had any tender feelings for this woman, he was not that stupid. Hell! They could not even be called friends. Just two familiar people who most of the time annoy each other to no end, but at the same time, for some unclear reasons, experience attraction of a sexual nature, which they succumbed to yesterday. No, Loki definitely did not expect any major changes in the nature of their, it is worth noting, very strange relationship, but he also did not expect that there would be no changes at all.

Loki had already anchored a boat with certain views of Dana; and not only anchored, but put it in a dry dock to dry, repaired it here and there, tinted it with fresh paint and scraped off all the shells from the bottom. And by "certain views" was meant the repetition of their yesterday's depravity on a regular basis.

Oh no, woman, thought the trickster, recovering completely. It won't work that way.

"So, if there is still any heresy about repeating the yesterday in your skull, then shake it out of there as soon as possible," Dana finished.

"As you wish," the trickster answered her with that very smile, which almost plainly said the decision had been made long ago and no one was going to change it, no matter what anyone just said.

In other words, no one was going to throw out "any heresy about repeating the yesterday." On the contrary, it was given a special place in his thoughts - right on the front line.

"So, comming back to the point," began the trickster, when they were already in front of a solid wall of tall blue trees, "what did you mean when you said you were going to search for the Hulk with the help of your scence of smell, but not by the smell itself?"

"Not by his smell," meeting another incomprehensible look, the woman sighed, apparently resigned to the fact that everything always needs to be explained to everyone like for children. "The smell remains even when its source is moving. If the trail is fresh, you can even determine how long the source has been in one place or another. Hulk is moving. But his trail had long ago become so weak that even a dog's nose would hardly smell it, what can we say about mine. However, the Hulk didn't just run through the woods, right? "Hulk - smash bergs!"

Loki finally got it.

"Corpses," he guessed.

"Exactly. The corpses don't move. And their smell is quite..." the brown-haired woman grimaced, "strong. In such a frost, of course, the decomposition process is much slower, but I do not think that our lost one was especially cerimonized with the poor beasts. The smell of blood, guts and other entrails I will smell even from under the snow," she sucked in air. "But not in this guise."

Dana put the bag on the snow and began to undress. First boots, then jeans, after them came T-shirt, and at the end - underwear. All the items of clothing were neatly folded and put in the bag. The woman handed the bag to a trickster, who was watching the performance without blinking. Over the past 24 hours, he seems to have seen her naked body enough, but he still caught his breath from such a spectacle. When you spend more than a thousand years in a conservative-patriarchal society, and even in the royal layer of the population, where maidens with complex hairstyles usually walk around in expensive jewelry and multi-layered robes, hiding them from head to toe, the sight of a completely naked woman with a lush mane of chocolate hair sort of,say... discourages you.

"Here. You can carry it in your hands or hide in your "pockets" - doesn't matter, but if you lose it, then it's your funeral," Dana handed him her bag. She did it with some reluctance. Apparently, this accessory truely was very dear to her. Loki carefully took the bag, and a couple of seconds later it disappeared into a green glow. "Perfect. Now turn away."

"Did your long forgotten modesty just wake up?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. Such suggestion was hard to believe.

Dana glared back viciously.

"You can stare at me in any guise: in a human one- more or less -, in between one, in a feline one, but not while I'm changing,” she said in a voice that did not tolerate any objections. This voice made it clear that everything will be exactly the way it said, and not otherwise. "Turn away. Now."

Loki decided not to argue and silently turned away. It was a very smart move, especially considering the speed with which this woman's mood changed. Although, he did not quite understand why Dana was so categorically against him seeing her transform into a cat. The trickster himself changed his guises more than once. Remember at least one of his favorite snake-transformation tricks. The memory brought a smile to his face. Maybe it's worth repeating it somehow? It is unlikely that his brother has grown too much smarter since that time...

From further reflections he was distracted by a loud "Meow". Turning around, Loki found the familiar four-legged wad of universal malevolence with large yellow eyes. The cat began to sniff, and then shook its head as if saying: "Follow me," and trotted into the depths of the forest. The trickster tried to keep up.

Dana sometimes stopped to rub against a tree or sharpen her claws on the rough bark, and sometimes she suddenly froze in place, staring at some point and pricking her ears. Loki had no idea what she saw there: no matter how peering he looked, he could see nothing but snow and trees there.

Such weirdo things, these cats, thought the trickster, watching the brown animal. And what person came up with the idea to make them pets too? It's like making yourself a volunteer servant.

Loki chuckled as he remembered his own words about how humans, deep down, yearning to obey. It looks like he just found a powerful argument in his favor.

After about an hour, they came out to a small snowy field and immediately realized that someone had definitely been here before them. The gray boulder was missing a significant chunk, and the lower - and not only the lower - branches of the trees were broken off, as if an express had rushed past them at full speed. Such a green, hefty two-legged express.

Loki looked at the cat. She raked one of the snowdrifts with her paws. When she finished, the trickster saw a berg under the snow. Rather, what was once a berg. A huge carcass the size of a bear seemed to have been flattened under pressure. Now, for the first time, Loki was glad that Bluin was so damn cold. At normal temperatures, the smell of a corpse would be unbearable.

Dana headed towards the tall trees again. The trickster followed her, but had to stop when she turned sharply and, arching her back, angrily hissed at him, and then quickly disappeared behind the trees.

He suddenly wondered if all the representatives of the feline family had such a nasty character, or only this particular representative? Loki told himself to find out when they got to Earth. After he and the other Asgardians settle down comfortably there, of course.

Dana returned, still grumpy, but already in a two-legged guise. That was good. It is much more pleasant to admire a displeased naked woman than a displeased hissing cat.

“A bag,” she demanded, holding out her hand.

Loki silently materialized what was required and handed over to its legal (or illegal, who knows) owner. After the transformations, this woman was somehow even more irritated than usual. But he was not going to point out this to her - the instinct of self-preservation was not given to him in vain. Instead, the trickster silently watched Dana dress. That is, at first she rummaged in her bag for several minutes, trying to find a second boot, then another ten minutes in search of a bra, and only after that she began to put on the elements of her wardrobe with difficulty.

“Come on,” she said, throwing her bag over her shoulder.

"No more turning into the cat form, then?" 

"Firstly, I'm not turning into a cat, but transforming," the woman corrected him. "And secondly, there is no more need. I can smell the second corpse even in this form."

"What's the difference?"

“Turning into another form involves the use of magic, trickster. Transformation does not. What is happening to me is biology, not magic."

"Impressive biology indeed," he muttered. "So you are something like a shapeshifter?"

The woman turned so abruptly that Loki almost crashed into her.

"If you call me "something like a shapeshifter-r-r" one mor-r-re time, you your-r-rself will become something like a cr-r-ripple", Dana growled in an extremely displeased voice and, turning away, continued on her way. "I am me. No more and no less."

“Comprehensive information,” said the trickster. "What about telling a little more?"

"What for?"

"For I would be interested to know you better."

"What for?" she asked again without even turning around.

“I’m inquisitive,” Loki replied, without bending his heart. He really loved knowledge as much as magic. Although, in a way, magic can also be considered knowledge, right? Loki never believed that knowing a lot was harmful. Quite the opposite, knowing a lot and using it skillfully is very useful. First of all, for him. But what is really harmful is to show everyone that you know a lot.

“Happy for you, trickster."

"You tell me about yourself and I tell you about Asgard."

“We have a ship full of Asgardians,” the woman said. "I even have strong friendly relations with one of them. It's been thirty years already. She told me enough."

"Did she tell you about the local magic as well?" the trickster asked with a sly smile.

Dana froze. Just for a moment, but it was enough for Loki to realize that he had hit the bulleye. He and Dana didn't have that many points of contact, but they did existed, and one of those points was magic. This woman was definitely interested in magic. She was incredibly skillful at creating secret paths, which must be very difficult, and she instantly saw through the trickster when he sent her clothes into his "pocket dimension" yesterday. How she managed it, and even so quickly, he still did not know (however, he planned to find out), but this definitely indicated work experience or, at least, an interest in magic as such.

“I am one of the best magicians in Asgard,” Loki continued. "And after Ragnarok, maybe the best. No one can tell you more about our magic than me."

"Are you trying to manipulate me?" this time the woman did turned to face him. She was interested, then.

"Manipulation implies secrecy. I, in turn, openly declare that I offer you information in exchange for information."

Loki seemed to be able to hear the gears turning in her head. The very fact that she is considering his proposal implies that she really wants to know more about the magic of Asgard.

After a couple of minutes of intense mental activity, Dana sighed.

"What exactly are you interested in?"

“You,” Loki replied too quickly, immediately berating himself for his thoughtless answer. “Your… that is, earthly magic, some information about the Earth, preferably of an economic and political nature, some details of your life before Sakaar, although the story of how you and the Valkyrie managed to make friends, I would also listen with pleasure. The geography of Midgard interests me too..."

"Are you preparing the conquest of the Earth, version 2.0?" the woman chuckled.

"For Odin's sake, no! As if one time wasn't enough already. Too much hassle, and for what? More hassle? Thanks, but no, thanks. The plans to conquer worlds are over."

"Glad to hear that. So, nevertheless, why bargain with me for such information?"

"Because neither I, let alone my brother, neither anyone else has such information,” replied the trickster. "And considering where we are going and for what purpose, it would be very useful to us."

The smile immediately disappeared from the woman's face. Now Dana was looking at him as if he had just said the Earth was flat in front of her. It seemed that a little more - and her eye would start twitching.

"Did you just say," she began in a low voice, as if completely not believing in what she herself was saying, "that you two idiots, decided to settle your people on a planet you don’t know a damn thing about?”

"In my defense, I will say that it was not I who decided, but Thor."

"What the hell does it matter who?! What were you thinking about when you agreed?"

About how a bad this idea is, Loki mentally answered her, but decided not to speak out loud. Arguing with this woman, especially when she is in such a state, is not only useless, but can be life-threatening. And that other ideas are even worse.

“It was the most acceptable of all possible options,” he chose the right words. "So? Will you try to hammer into my brother's head what's what?"

"Hammer information only ito his head?" the brown-haired woman arched an eyebrow.

"In my case, simple words would be enough,"the trickster chuckled. "My head does not require additional, say, help to perceive information."

"Well, we'll see that. I am a demanding teacher."

"So, we have a deal then?" he held out his hand to her.

"Deal, so be it," Dana answered, holding out her hand in response. 

Smiling, Loki grabbed the palm outstretched in response, only instead of securing their deal with a handshake, the trickster brought her hot hand to his lips and kissed, not without pleasure noting the surprise flashed across her swarthy face.

"Perfect."

Chapter Text

The Hulk couldn't think of two things at the same time. For the past few days, much of his thoughts have been devoted to bergs. Three basic thoughts relentlessly replaced one another: "Hulk - look for bergs," "Hulk - chase bergs," and his favorite "Hulk - smash the bergs." But there was a pause between the last and the first thought. And during this pause, the Hulk could hear Banner, who in spite of everything managed to slightly open the trunk of the subconscious, in which he was shoved, shouting something to him. Hulk tried to ignore him, but much time passed, and accordingly there were many pauses between thoughts, so albeit unwittingly, but the Hulk had to hear Banner's complaints that he, the Hulk, has been walking in the woods for too long, and that they are on this planet only temporarily. They should be, at least.

And now, standing in the middle of a wide cave - one of many, because, as it turned out, here the probability of stumbling upon a berg is much higher - the Hulk again heard Banner's annoying voice in his head. He continued to insistently tell him to finish the walk and come back.

“No Banner,” the Hulk said aloud. "Banner - bad. Smash - good."

The green avenger immediately turned his head in search of something, or rather someone to smash. The floor of the cave was strewn with six large dead bergs, which before that were at first sleeping bergs, then fucki… very udevil bergs, and then bergs trying to escape.

Unfortunately for the Hulk, he did not find a living, or even better, attacking berg in the cave. And Banner, meanwhile, did not shut up and, it seems, was not going to. The Hulk was already getting a migraine. Migraine = bad. Hulk feels bad = Hulk must smash to make Hulk feel good. Only there was no one to smash in this cave.

Hulk - look for bergs, the cycle of thoughts resumed, drowning in the head of Banner's annoying voice.

The Hulk came out of the cave... and came across the gorgeous woman and Loki.

From the trunk came joyful: "Thank gods.."

Hulk was also delighted with familiar faces. At the beginning. And then he noticed that the gorgeous woman did not look delighted. On the contrary, she looked very angry. And apparently, she was not angry with Loki: he simply stood on the sidelines and looked first at him, then at her.

"Anything you'd like to tell me?" Dana asked, looking up at him with displeasure with her big yellow eyes.

"Hi, gorgeous woman," the avenger said. He was in no hurry to say hello to Loki.

The Hulk watched as she looked at the cave entrance and frowned. When the woman looked up to him again, she looked not only displeased, but also dissatisfied, and very angry.

"What the hel have you done here?" she almost hissed, burning a hole in him with her flaming eyes.

Hulk felt uncomfortable with that look. He didn't like it. The woman looked at him with a similar look she did when he smashed the kitchen. Then she was upset. Upsating a gorgeous woman = bad. The Hulk didn't like it when he felt bad. Only now, it looks like she wasn't upset. She was angry. Angry look = bad. A gorgeous woman was angry at the Hulk. It's very bad.

"Hulk - smash bergs," the avenger said without his former enthusiasm. He very, very much did not like to be the object of this woman's displeasure.

"Oh, I see that,” the tone of her voice evoked an unpleasant feeling of shame. Shame = bad. "Why did the Hulk begin to smash bergs?"

"Hulk got bored."

Dana's change of mood was felt not only by the Hulk, but also by Loki, who hastened to step back a couple of steps. It was as if they both had that special masculine instinct that allows them to define that very “calm before the storm” during a seemingly everyday conversation with a female representative. The only pity is that the instinct did not work a little earlier.

"Oh, he got bored…” she drawled in the voice of a gentle snake and with a smile as friendly as the blade of a knife. Her gaze from displeased and angry turned into one full of rage, which, combined with a smile, looked not only strange, but also creepy. Hulk, perhaps for the first time in his life, felt fear. "Hulk got bored and decided to go for a walk, right?"

For a moment it seemed to the Hulk that Banner wished him luck before he slammed the truck lid with his own hand.

"Boredom - bad, smash - good?" said the Hulk, only this time somehow uncertainly.

"Smash - good?" the woman folded her arms over her chest. Bad sign. Very, very bad. "Have you forgotten what we were talking about in the kitchen? What did you promise me?"

"Hulk not smash furniture!" the avenger exclaimed immediately. "Hulk smash bergs!"

"And by doing this Hulk make me very upset. Again. I am extremely displeased, Hulk. ANd I am very angry. At you."

"Big monster - not furniture..."

"Monster?" Dana said indignantly. "For you, bergs are monsters?"

"Big teeth and claws,” the avenger listed characteristics. "Monsters."

"I have teeth and claws too,” she immediately showed him the elongated fangs and ten sharp claws. "Am I a monster-r-r for-r-r you too? Ar-r-re you going to kill me too?"

The Hulk shamefully lowered his gaze even lower, looking somewhere in the area of his large green feet. He saw a couple of feet in brown boots, too. One of those feet was pounding discontentedly in the snow. Another very, very, very bad sign.

During this conversation, the avenger had a lot of new equations. Look = bad. Arms crossed on chest = very bad. Stomping = very, very bad. And all together = fu...

"I'm talking to you, Hulk," the woman spoke again. Her voice was not loud. It did not need to be raised: it was so sharp you could shave with it. "Look me in the eyes when I talk to you."

The Hulk forced himself to look up at her with a titanic effort. The gorgeous woman made him feel ashamed and guilty. Both were bad. Even worse than boredom.

"I'm not a monster. And neither are bergs," continued Dana. "They are just animals, Hulk, who were having a calm - well, maybe not quite calm - life in this forest until you came and started killing them. For. No. Reason. Just because, you see, you got bored."

Every word she said was like a blow in the stomach. The Hulk, even though he was at least twice the size of Dana, now felt so small. She made him feel very bad. She was the reason that he feels bad now. And the Hulk was used to smashing everything that makes him feel bad. Gorgeous woman = shame and guilt. Shame = bad. Guilt = bad. Gorgeous woman = bad. Bad = you need to smash. Hulk - smash a gorgeous woman? No, he can't. This is bad. He needed a different approach here. Gorgeous woman = bad. Bad = Banner. Gorgeous woman = Banner? The Hulk's got confused completely.

And then in the Hulk's head suddenly appeared not just a thought, but an idea. Gorgeous woman = bad. Banner = bad. Bad and bad are the same. Gorgeous woman and Banner are the identical. Identical can come to an agreement. Let Banner negotiate with a gorgeous woman. And the Hulk - for the first time of his own free will - better stay in the trunk.

Never in all the time that had passed since the ill-fated serum had Banner been so resistant to regaining control. However, the Hulk's desire to hide from an angry gaze, crossed arms on the chest and stomping foot was much stronger than Banner's unwillingness to crawl out of the safe trunk of his own subconscious.

The first thing Bruce felt as he was himself again was cold. Not even cold, no, freeze. The air was so cold it hurt him even to breathe.

"Hulk-k-k, y-y-you are a j-j-je...."

Hot hugs didn't let Banner finish the sentence. The hugs were truly hot, because the snow underneath almost instantly turned into water. When the initial shock passed, it dawned on the doctor that he was now sitting in a pool of heating water, wearing just his pants (or rather what remained of them) and that a gorgeous woman was hugging him with her arms and legs. The very woman who made the Hulk run away into the depths of his subconscious, tucking his non-existent tail.

"Trickster, did you accidentally have another set of men's clothes lying around in your pockets?"

Oh, right! Loki is here too. This is really a surprise.

"I doubt the size is fitting, but..."

Bruce felt an intermediate layer form between him and the hot swarthy skin of the woman hugging him. Rather, several intermediate layers in the form of a black shirt, black jacket, black trousers and black shoes. The shoes seemed to fit the size, but the suit was clearly designed for someone taller and thinner.

"Wasn't there something warmer?" Dana responded again, getting to her feet. Bruce, clinging to her like a lifebuoy (or rather a life-heater), stood up with her.

"Where from? The cold never bothered me much,” Loki shrugged. "Better check your bag. Considering how long you've been rummaging through it in search of your shoes, there is a lot of junk in there."

"My bag is in complete order."

"Of course. As you say."

"Watch your tone, trickster."

"Otherwise?"

"Otherwise I..."

"Um, guys,” Banner hastened to cut in, guessing how it might end, “I don’t want to interfere with your, let's say, conversations, but maybe we’ll return to the city? By the way, when are we leaving?"

There was a strangled cough from Dana's side, and Loki suddenly became very interested in one of the trees.

"How to put it..." began the trickster, but he didn't have to think it over, because Dana intervened.

"Ever seen the movie "Home Alone"? the doctor nodded. “Well, you're Kevin McCallister."

"W-w-wait a minute. Are you saying," Bruce gradually began to understand the entire horror of his situation, "that you flew away without me? Leaving me on a strange and terribly cold planet, where toothy animals are running everywhere?"

"Well, thanks to the Hulk, most of them are no longer running..." trickster remarked. "Like, anywhere."

"And we didn't leave you: just forgot," added Dana.

"What a relief."

"Besides, we came back for you. Now, it's high time for us to get back to the ship. The path is not short, so I advise you to start right now. And considering that we don't have warm clothes, and I'm not going to drag your cold corpse on me, stay close to me, Home Alone."

Bruce sighed resignedly and trailed after Dana, trying not to move more than a meter away from the only heat source. When it came to nicknames, this woman was even worse than Tony Stark. So Banner had no choice but to reconcile and get used to the new nickname.

Brunnhilde was never married and did not know of motherhood. However, now she felt as if she did had a daughter who had time to grow up and run away from home on a date with a bad guy with long hair and leather clothes. The Valkyrie now finally understood why many mothers always walk with very short nails and seem a little crazy. The only reason her toenails remained intact was her lack of flexibility.

Dana... oh, well and Loki and the Hulk have been away for a very long time. And during this time, all possible scenarios swept through Brunnhilde's head at the speed of light. Most of them, perhaps, did heard about such a concept as logic, however, what it is and how to use it they have not figured out yet. Valkyrie was worried, literally, to the point of madness.

And it was strange, because usually in their pair, Dana played the role of an adult. It was she who played the role of an eternally disgruntled and criticizing teacher, while the Valkyrie did whatever she wanted (for the most part, she was drinking booze without restraint). And now they seemed to have reversed roles: Dana was the one who now was doing hell knows what (the unknowning was what bothered the most), and Brunnhilde had to grow up, in some century. And frankly, she didn't like being an adult. You need to think not only for yourself, but also for others, you need to constantly think about problems and look for ways to solve them, you need to be reasonable, you need to be responsible and a bunch of other "needs". This was hard.

It was easier with Dana, she thought, staring at the windshield in the cockpit. Brünnhilde has spent most of her time here since the moment her friend and trickster left the ship. Yes, living with Dana was definitely easier, because you could always rely on your friend. She has always been the voice of reason. Always displeased, grumpy and most often sarcastic, but it was definitely the voice of a mature responsible person.  How long will this search last? I have already chewed all my nails... 

A dot appeared on the silvery-blue background. This point was growing larger and larger with each passing minute, until it finally took on a familiar shape. The search team was back.

Loud "YESSSSS!" could be heard throughout the whole ship.

"Sweetie, we are, of course, friends and all that... But in my opinion, the welcome hug somewhat dragged on. For ten minutes for sure," Dana squirmed in displeasure in a strong ring of hands, which squeezed her ribs too tightly. "Get off of me already, before I got hot enough to burn you even through your ammunition."

"You cannot imagine how glad I am to hear this from you,” the Valkyrie squeezed her even tighter.

"Oh gods, we haven't seen each other for a few days. And you are acting as if I just got back from the Hundred Years War."

"I was so worried about you..."

"Hell, this is just what I need..." the woman muttered with displeasure, struggling to escape from the already annoying embrace. "Do I give the impression of a person for whom you need to worry? I am mature, self-sufficient and independent woman. I know how to take care of myself,” the “independent woman ”carefully examined her friend from head to toe. "Unlike others. Have you decided to get yourself a "dental" manicure instead of sleeping at night?"

Brunhilde, somewhat dissatisfied with the fact that her friend had escaped from the embrace, in turn, also examined her for possible injuries. She did not find any injuries, but..

"Is that a hickey?" the Valkyrie pointed to her neck and the part of her chest that the shirt did not hide.

"No, traces of the suckers of an octopus which I tried to cook during the flight."

"Really?"

"Of course not, sweetie!" answered the brown-haired woman. "Where does the kitchen come from on that tiny starship?"

"You mean you did had an octopus with you?" Brunnhilde's both eyebrows went up.

"Hell knows. Maybe, is lying somewhere in a bag..."

For a couple of minutes silence reigned in the cockpit until the Valkyrie remembered how the conversation about seafood began.

"That is, you and Loki..." her taned cheeks began to acquire a reddish tint, "you two..."

"Let's just say," Dana interrupted her. "the grandmaster's yellow swallow was used for its intended purpose."

"For which of its purposes?" clarified the Valkyrie. The first purpose - flying - did not bother her, but the second one...

"For both," the woman replied with a smug smirk.

Brunnhilde had no choice but to hide her already completely reddened face in her palms.

"Oh Gods…"

Chapter Text

Four days have passed since the moment Bruce returned on the ship. Most of this time, the crew spent trying to re-adjust to the twenty-four hour lifestyle and wake up at least for lunch, and not for dinner. Dana - an avid lover of lazy naps - categorically refused to adjust back. Therefore, everyone was very surprised when they found her sitting on the kitchen cabinet with a plate of pancakes on her lap.

"Today is the end of the world or something?" Brunnhilde was the first to leave the shock. She took a package of instant food from the shelf and placed it in the microwave. "Since when do you have breakfast in the morning?"

"Can't tell you anything about the end of the world, I don’t do foresight,” the woman shrugged, putting another piece of golden pancake into her mouth and licking her fingers. "And I have breakfast in the morning from today and, probably, until our arrival on Earth."

"Are there any more pancakes?" Bruce asked, turning his gaze from the stove to the fridge. He saw a dirty frying pan in the sink, but there was no dessert anywhere except on Dana's lap.

"Of course not, I cooked for myself."

"Do you want me to cook?" Thor suggested to his friend with a happy smile. “I’ve got a good handle on cooking.”

Four pairs of eyes immediately settled on him inquiringly. In the case of the god of thunder, "got a good handle on cooking" meant that he got two, maybe three recipes from something simple and cooks them one by one, and not always successfully. And then he leaves the dirty dishes in the sink, ostensibly to "soak".

The scientist rightly judged that the first pancakes in Thor's life could well become the last for him, Banner, and therefore hastened to reject the offer of a friend and began to cut the meat. The salad would have suited him much better, except that there were almost no vegetarian products on Bluin, and those that had been in the refrigerator before were long gone. Bruce hoped the food situation would be somewhat different at their next stop.

The microwave squeaked shrilly. Brunnhilde's breakfast was ready. The Valkyrie pulled out a plate and, ignoring the twisted face of her only friend, sat down at the table. After a couple of minutes, Loki joined her deciding to limit himself to only tea. Thor soon took Bruce's place at the cutting board.

The cooking process took place in a somewhat tense silence. It was tense mainly because Dana did not take her eyes off Banner, much less the god of thunder, remembering the incident that led to the need for an overhaul of the kitchen. Well at least Bruce guessed to turn on the hood right away and, just in case, watched not only his frying pan, but also his friend's frying pan.

"So, after all," began the Valkyrie, almost having dealt with his breakfast, "why did you suddenly switch to the morning mode?"

"Because of him,"Dana nodded towards Loki.

Brunnhilde immediately remembered the hickeys on the neck and chest of her friend and felt that she was beginning to blush, wherein from somewhere around her knees. She erratically began to turn her gaze from a tea-drinking trickster to the brown-haired woman eating the last pancake.

"Are you,” she said, dumbfounded, “Did you begin sleeping together again?"

There was a sound of broken glass. It was Banner who dropped the plate on the floor. Good thing it was an empty one.

"Brother!" Thor's voice rang out after seven seconds (again, an empty stomach significantly slows down brain activity).

"I did not quite understand, was it indignation or admiration I heard in your voice?" Loki inquired all the same while drinking tea. If he was surprised at anything, it was that this conversation had not occurred a couple of days earlier.

"What do you mean "again"?" Bruce asked. He, who had been laying most of the time in the trunk of his own subconscious (even if at the end of his "imprisonment" he managed to open it a little), was shocked the most, because when he saw Loki and Dana for the last time, they barely could stand each other's company. "And when was the "first" one?"

"When they went after you," the Valkyrie answered him and again turned to her friend. "If only I had known that you two would start sleeping together, I would not have said a single word to you when you expressed a desire to go searching all alone."

"Brother, how could you?" Thor was still staring at the trickster with an ambiguous expression.

“With great pleasure,” Loki answered him, grinning. "Or do you want details?"

"Yeah, I did missed a lot..." Bruce sighed, taking another plate from the shelf.

"How about ending this circus?" Dana joined the general conversation. “Let's start with the fact, sweetie, that this trickster and I didn't sleep together."

A short wave of relieved sighs passed through the kitchen.

"Fucked - yes, but slept? No," sighs were immediately replaced by a cough. "Me and sleeping with a barely familiar person... How could you even think that of me, sweetie?"

"Hey,” Loki protested. "What do you mean "with a barely familiar"?"

"Trickster, we've known each other for about a month, and that's only because on Bluin one day goes for two. So you're not on my list of friends yet."

"List implies listing, not one single name."

"Don't talk about what you don’t know, trickster."

"They don’t look like lovers to me,” Bruce said to Thor.

"Because we are not lovers!" the discussed respondents answered in unison.

"So you don't sleep together?"

“If only…” the trickster muttered under his breath.

"I told you, sweetie..."

“I mean figuratively,” the reddened Valkyrie corrected herself. “And you know that very well.

"And why is everyone so confused by the word "sex"..." muttered Dana under her breath. "No, sweetie, we do not, as you put it, "sleep" together. The night, of course, turned out to be quite interesting then, but... You know me!"

"That's just the point, but fine," Brunnhilde took the opportunity to close the topic. “Then what did you mean by “because of him”?"

"We made a deal,” the brown-haired woman shrugged. "So from today I will try to drive into these two," she pointed a finger at the brothers, "heads at least some of the information that they should have independently studied before going to Earth in order to arrange a whole people there for PR...

"What is PR?" Thor asked.

Bruce, being a person well acquainted with the education process (a couple of times he was even invited to lecture at universities), looked at Dana with genuine sympathy and mentally wished her luck and patience.

"If I answer: "abbreviation", will it become clearer for you?"

“No,” the thunder god answered honestly. In Asgard, such a concept simply did not exist, for the Asgardians, who have a rather long life expectancy, did not see any reason to reduce anything, even words.

Dana turned to Loki. He just shrugged his shoulders, as if saying: "Nobody said it would be easy."

“Your information should just be pretty damn interesting, trickster,” she said, jumping off the kitchen cabinet. "I'll be waiting for you two in the infirmary in half an hour. The latecomer, goldilocks, I will interrogate at the blackboard."

During her very long life, Dana has done a hell of things and has gained a hell of work experience in a hell of work areas. She was an excellent archaeologist: thanks to her, the world saw many exhibits (however, the world did not see even more other, more interesting exhibits thanks to her as well). She was a professional photographer: many of her photographs have had incredible success in various court hearings. She also really liked the work of a stripper, especially the uniform. Dana knew all the "delights" of prison life: from both the prisoner and the warden side. She also mastered the economy, especially the part of it that concerned bank accounts (or rather, the machinations of these very accounts) and long-term deposits.

By and large, Dana was a woman with many different talents and many different diplomas. Some of them were even genuine. But most of all, perhaps, she liked the profession of a teacher: both in schools and in universities. In the first case, the woman taught only on condition that the children who, let's say, study there, will be over ten years of age. As for universities, there the process of studying was carried out in a was as ancient as a world: you put a large number of young people as close as possible to a huge number of books and hope that in some incredible way at least something of the latter will flow into the first. While these young people prefer to "put" themselves as close as possible to clubs, bars and other similar establishments - for the same reason and for the same purpose. To the general greatest regret, in higher education institutions, the teaching process was the key point. The teaching staff, of course, has long accepted this and now, basically, did everything possible to avoid participation in this very process. However, no one complained, as the students were also not eager to be educated. So, when Dana taught at universities, her main task was not so much to teach students something, but simply to exist and be the reason why they will start learning on their own. She coped with this task with a bang.

Teaching was her vocation, and not because of her love for children. No, Dana disliked children, and she herself, in turn, caused in children a mixture of fear, delight and a lack of understanding of what to do: cry, laugh or run away before it's too late. That is why the discipline in her classes was on such a level that military commanders could do nothing but smoking nervously on the sidelines, looking through tears and learning from the coach. Dana's students' dogs never ate a notebook with their homework. On the contrary, even if someone in the class did have a dog, it would bring a pen and look at student with pleading eyes until the homework was completed.

Dana's students never lied to her, or rather, they never succeeded in making her believe a lie: as soon as they began to invent on the go or say a pre-rehearsed excuse, the woman endowed them with a Look, with which she seemed to study their very souls and mark with red circles especially unpleasant places. When Dana looked at her students (and not only them), she seemed to give marks.

She also had no problematic students. More precisely, there were some, but they did not stay that way for a long time. At parents' meetings, many mothers (although many fathers also came to her parents' meetings, even though some mothers were categorically against) admitted to Dana that they were amazed at the changes that had taken place in their child to the core. Even though the kid now sleeps only with the light on. 

In short, Dana really loved teaching, and what's the most important - she was damn good at it. The teacher’s work allowed her to lecture a great amount of people, to be the focus of their attention and to get money for all that. In fact, she did what she always did, only she got paid for it every month. That's what "Dream work" really looks like.

Now, of course, she was not in the classroom or university auditorium, but in the infirmary, and not fifty students were listening to her, but only two. However, there were a couple of pluses: there was no call to determine the end of the school day, and there were no head teachers and directors. Though, there weren't any textbooks or copybooks either, but the experience of teaching in senior classes proved her that this did not interfere with the educational process at all.

At the moment, it was the eighth hour of the lecture which Dana titled as "Planet Earth: A Brief Description for Two Divine Idiots."

"… and last but not least, Japan,” another syringe flew past the trickster's ear. Actually, only for the sake of this kind of "Darts" the woman chose the infirmary as the audience for her classes. As practice shows, flying piercing and cutting objects contribute to a significant improvement in concentration.  "It seems I have listed everything. In total, today we have one globe, one natural satellite, thirteen climatic zones, five oceans, seventy-three seas, not counting the Caspian, Aral, Dead and Galilee, about five million lakes, twenty-two main mountain systems, six mainlands, seven continents, five hundred thousand islands and one hundred ninety-seven countries. Any questions?"

The answer was the silence typical of a group of third-year students who had served six pairs in a row. The only possible question in such a situation is: “Can we go home? We still have to finish writing the term paper...".

Thor did not lie down and did not fall asleep in a hospital bed only because of syringes and scalpels flying around the "audience". His brain, not accustomed to such loads, borrowed strength from the muscles, and the muscles, in turn, borrowed it from the bones, as a result of which not only his head ached, but the whole body. Even the hair seemed to be exhausted.

Loki was doing better, but not much. It's not the first time his brain gyrus has been working on all eight cylinders, but even they needed time to process all the information that came to the brain in the last eight hours. And given that all these eight hours, Dana's mouth almost did not close, there was a fuc... well, a lot of information. The trickster would even be surprised that Dana had not yet become hoarse if his suffering brain had enough time and energy for this. Yeah, this woman's vocal cords were incredible. As, however, was her brain which holds all this information.

Dana looked at this “forest of hands” with a displeased look. Usually, when the there are no questions after phrase: "Any questions?", this means either: everyone has assimilate the material so well that no questions have arisen; or: everyone has assimilate the material so badly that they don't even know what to ask. Usually, which of the two options was correct is found out during the examination of the exam papers.

"No questions. Perfect," she concluded. "Then here's your homework: using all the information you have about the Earth, and thanks to me you have it - I hope - quite enough, finally decide on your future permanent residence. I'm not talking about a particular country yet - I doubt you've memorized at least half of the names - no, determine with the mainland for a start or with the climate belt, and better with both. Deadline is the end of the week. For now, I'm gonna top up you with general information, and after you do your homework, we'll start an in-depth study of the region. Any questions about homework?"

And again silence. Both asgardians continued to sit unsardedly and silently clap with three tired, sad eyes. Only the sounds of crickets in the background were missing to complete the picture. Or tumbleweeds. Although according to the "students" what was missing is a lack of a call that would finally free them from these torments.

"No questions about homework," Dana concluded. "Well, judging by your sour faces, you are unlikely to do another pair, and even if you do, neither I nor you will benefit from it, so I think that will be all for tod... Sit back you two!" she immediately interrupted the escape attempt. Brothers with martyred expressions on their faces dutifully returned to the places, mentally whining. "Just look at how much energy they've got. You do something like that again and you are gonna have additional classes. Is it clear?"

"Yes,” the gods responded with displeasure. They have already forgotten what it is like to study. Moreover, under the guidance of such a teacher. The trickster has already regretted the deal more than once: knowledge, of course, is the greatest of treasures, but his own health is also worth a lot.

"Perfect. We meet tomorrow here at the same time," the woman certainly looked if not satisfied, then not as dissatisfied as before. "You can be free now."

Asgardians were clean off.They've been waiting for this moment for the past few hours. Dana looked after them for a while, and then, making sure that no one was there, smiled smugly and went to her room. She had almost forgotten what it was like to teach. Now she had some definite goal: before arriving on Earth, she was going to make two educated people out of the gods.

Yeah, thought the woman, collapsing onto her bed. Her thoughts turned to Thor. There is an unfortunate excess of raw materials here. 

Chapter Text

Loki felt a thousand years younger: he had to attend classes again, make sure that his brother was not late and did not skip (it was much easier now: it was enough just to remind him who their teacher was), do homework and pore over what he had learned. material. It was difficult even for him to absorb all that huge amount of information, but Loki was happy. He loved learning as much as Thor loved fighting. Maybe even more.

I must admit, this woman keeps her word, thought Loki, sitting in the kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil. Today's lectures ended three hours ago, and dinner time even earlier. During class, his brother was so tired that he skipped the last meal and immediately went to his place, where he lay down on his side and began to snore. I wonder when she will come to demand that I keep mine?

That was what worried Loki from time to time. Dana have lectured him and Thor for four days in a row, but she haven't even hinted that the trickster would fulfill his end of the deal. Forgot? How! Judging by what she tells him and her brother for hours, this woman does not so easily part with the information she has received.

There was a click. The kettle boiled. Loki materialized the package of tea and began to brew his favorite drink. It was unusually quiet. Everyone was already asleep. Most of the Asgardians and Thor with Bruce for sure. The only sound in the kitchen was the ticking of the clock on the wall. The trickster was watching the water in the teapot grow darker, listening to the measured ticking of the clock, and was almost falling asleep standing.

Therefore, when there was the sound of the refrigerator door opening, Loki almost jumped. It was Dana. And it seems that before she was in the kitchen, she had time to visit the bathroom. The thick mane of dark hair straightened under the weight of the water and dropped down at the roots, making the woman appear shorter. The swarthy skin was damp, which caused the pink silk of the familiar robe to stick to her body in certain places. Just like Loki's gaze.

He watched as she took a carton of milk out of the refrigerator and poured it into a cup, and memories of that stormy (in every sense) night on Bluin were flashing before his eyes. He felt heat poured over him, as if a hot female body was pressed against him again. So flexible, strong and at the same time so malleable...

Loki forced himself to turn the gaze away. The tea was brewed. He took out a cup and began to fill it, trying with all his might not to think about the woman standing only a few steps away from him. It turned out, frankly, terrible. Obsessive images did not want to leave his head.

He tried to remember if he had ever been similarly fixated on any other female. The trickster mentally returned to the time when his and his brother's favorite activity was the pursuit of skirts. And he did not mean their childhood, when they were running after their motherl. Loki vividly remembered the sumptuous feasts and balls in the huge halls of the palace. He remembered every detail: the golden floor polished to a shine, on which couples danced, a high ceiling with mosaics, massive wooden tables covered with embroidered tablecloths full of various food and drinks (as well as various food additives such as poison or grated glass, carefully added by those who wish move up the social and career ladder), small talk, live music, which was necessary not so much for dancing as to muffle the aforementioned talks (as well as the death rales of aristocrats in which schizophrenia and absolute suspicion have not developed strongly enough). And the trickster remembered very well how he and Thor, as teenagers and youngsters, ran through all this splendor after young fair maidens in silk dresses and elaborate hairstyles. He remembered how they competed, who by the end of the ball would be able to dance with a larger number of girls, who could steal more kisses, and maybe not only kisses. However, with insufficient caution, such competitions quickly turned into a game of who would grab the harder punishment. 

Loki had to admit that most often the winner in such competitions (regarding girls, not punishments from Odin) was Fandral, whose love for the pursuit of skirts manifested itself earlier, and therefore he had more time to become skilled in this "sport". The trickster suddenly imagined how the acquaintance of the Dashing from the Trinity and Dana would have gone.

Fandral would surely have been knocked dead, quite literally, the thought made Loki smile.

However, come to think about it, if Dana showed up for one of the palace receptions, everyone would have been smitten, including Odin. He was sure that even Heimdall would be taken aback. The trickster could actually see how this woman, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt (he tried not to think about a pink robe), was slowly walking along the golden floor, looking around skeptically. The hall would have froze in silence in an instant. Everyone would stare at the curiosity, forgetting about all the rules of decency and manners. Loki would not take his eyes off either. Even Odin would sit on the throne with his mouth open. Then, when everyone would have recovered a little from the shock, someone would probably have ordered the guards to seize her...

The smile on the trickster's face grew wider. He would give anything to see how the guards would try to obey the order. Or better yet, how Odin would conduct the interrogation.

In less than a day, this woman would have managed to earn herself several life sentences in the dungeons of Asgard, a couple of exiles and repeated pulling out of the tongue.

"Did you brew weed instead of tea, or something?" Dana's voice pulled the trickster out of the abyss of his own fantasies.

"What does weeds have to do with it?"

"When there is a lecture on drugs and medicine, you will understand what I mean,” the woman replied, carrying a cup of milk to the table. The vessel was clearly not heavy, but she held it with both hands. Only then did Loki notice steam rising from the swarthy palms. Dana used her own hands instead of the microwave. "Or you won't if you don't have enough brains. So what made you smile like the Cheshire Cat?"

"Which cat?" Loki took a cup of tea in one hand and a teapot in the other, and sat down at the table.

"Never mind. If you and your brother learn the material quickly enough, which I doubt, I will give you a couple of lectures on literature, and then you will understand this reference too." the brown-haired woman stood next to him, leaning her hip on the table. "So will you tell me the reason for your sudden fun or not?"

"I just imagined you in Asgard."

The kitchen was quiet again. Only the measured ticking of the clock broke this silence. Loki was sitting at the table, still not taking a single sip of the Uinbjerg tea he loved so much, and Dana continued to stand motionless with a cup of milk in her hands and pensively looked either at her interlocutor, or somewhere through him.

After about a minute, the woman put the cup on the table, pulled out an adjacent chair, turned it back forward and saddled it. Therefore, the continuation still follows.

"And?" she finally asked, again taking the cup in hot hands. "What impression did I make on Asgard?"

"Indelible,” the trickster picked up the right word and lifted the cup to his lips. "You would definitely stand out from the crowd."

"Of course. First of all, because I would not be in the crowd."

"As for me, the main reason would still be your clothes. Asgardians prefer robes..."

"Which are the more complicated, the better," finished the woman for him. "Seriously, your Asgardian gears should be accompanied by instructions and, just in case, specially trained staff. I'll tell you what, trickster: if you need someone's help to put on or take off the clothes - fuck such clothes."

"I'm not sure about the instructions, but there really is a specially trained staff in the palace," Loki answered and immediately corrected himself: "Or rather, there was."

Both of the woman's eyebrows went up slowly. The sight made Loki smile again.

"Wow," said Dana after a short silence. "It turns out that not only on Earth aristocrats are not able to dress and undress on their own. This universe continues to amaze me. I hope the situation was better with the soldiers? I just see this picture, how they are shouting in your barracks: “Heads up! We were attacked!" And your warriors are like,"Does anyone know how to put this thing on? What is this anyway?", "Where is the special staff attached to my armor? I can't find pants!" or “My boot-buttoning specialist has just been hit by an arrow. Can anyone borrow theirs? I'll return it later, honestly-honestly!"

The trickster was laughing now. What a woman... One will definitely not get bored with her.

"Did I say something funny?" the woman arched an eyebrow inquiringly.

This only made Loki laugh harder.

I don’t even remember the last time I laughed like that, thought the trickster, calming down a little. I seem to begin to understand why the Valkyrie loves her so much: this woman is definitely something... in just a few seconds all their not too long acquaintance flashed through his head, during which Dana made him experience more emotions than in the last couple of years. Something truly gorgeous.

"You're not so far from the truth, by the way,” Loki finally answered. “Although Asgard has rarely been attacked. Usually everything happened exactly the opposite."

"Yes, sweetie talked a lot about how you loved... how she put it for the last time... "to bring civilization and protection to other worlds."

"And at the same time take away gold and relics from them,” added Loki, who, unlike his brother, did not read history books through pink glasses. Even as a child, he could give odds to many politicians. "Speaking of relics. I remember I promised you information about the magic of Asgard."

"You remember right," Dana looked at him with an anticipatory smile and made herself comfortable. “I’m all about attention, trickster."

"In that case," he leaned forward slightly, putting both hands on the table, "I think I should start with the palace museum of magical artifacts..."

Brunnhilde woke up from the fact that she wanted to drink. She threw her blue cloak over her pajamas and headed for the kitchen. The first thing she noticed was the lights on. The second was Loki's voice. And the third - Dana's voice.

Are they now fighting on the night shifts as well? the Valkyrie added a little step. As if we haven't got enough of this...

Her fears, fortunately, were not confirmed. Loki and Dana were in fact in the kitchen, and they were in fact having a conversation. Only not in poisonous tones, as they usually love to, but - the Valkyries even had to pinch herselve to believe it - like normal people. These two were just sitting at the table, drinking their own beverages and talking. They did not call each other names, did not throw sharp words, did not fight (thank God) and did not even try to burn a hole in each other, but simply chatted. Although, it must be admitted, it was Loki who chatted mostly. Dana listened attentively and sometimes clarified something.

Un-be-lie-va-ble, this struck Brunnhilde most of all. Her friend was really listening. And to whom? Loki. Until now, the only living creature whose talks for Dana were not empty words was the Valkyrie. Is it true I am not sleeping?

"How long will you stand in the doorway, sweetie?" Dana asked, casting a quick glance at her. And then she turned her attention back to her interlocutor. "Go on, trickster. You stopped on seven-league boots. Although I don’t know why the hell would someone need them? For me, a vehicle that sometimes tries to carry one leg seven leagues away from the other is not the most comfortable means of transportation. You need either very long legs, or a very good stretch..."

"You take everything too literally," Loki grinned, refilling the cup with already cooled tea. "Seven-league boots allow you to move on any surface. Even on walls or clotheslines."

"Why then they were not called "all-terrain boots"? This is more logical, as for me."

"You see, logic is not the most popular science in Asgard."

"Yeah, that's rather obvious," the woman took a sip of milk. Unlike tea, her drink was not cold at all. "So, these boots are also part of the loot... hard-earned goods?"

"They were made in Vanaheim. They ended up in Asgard as a dowry for my mother when she got married."

"When she got married or when she was married off?" Dana clarified.

"Married off, but she didn't really resist,” Loki admitted. “And in Vanaheim, these shoes was called running boots."

"Also not the most logical name, but anyway better than "seven-league boots". So, your dear mummy is from Vanaheim..." the woman pondered. "A good place. Beautiful nature and fresh air. If not for the monarchical order..."

"You've been to Vanaheim?" the trickster was surprised.

"I visited local witches several times. We had something to chat about. And what else, besides boots, did Asgard hog up from there?"

"Many things, actually," Loki replied. "Ever heard about the invisibility cloak? So..."

Brunnhilde drank water from a glass in mute shock, her round eyes fixed on the chatting couple. The trickster talked about the magical artifacts of Asgard, and Dana listened to his every word. Now, for the first time, these two looked like normal, civilized creatures, able to calmly communicate with each other without much damage to physical and mental health.

Unbelivable, thought the Valkyrie as she left the kitchen.

"Sweet dreams, sweetie!" came after her.

They talked until the teapot was completely empty. By this time, Dana's hair had time to completely dry, again acquire waviness in addition to disheveledness and now resembled a completely independent creature that settled on her head.

"Yeah," the woman put on the table a long-empty cup and got up from the table. "The Asgardian Museum has amassed a good collection."

Dana carried the cup to the sink, and then began to stretch, flexing her muscles from the long sitting.

A similar picture immediately appeared before Loki's eyes. It as well showed a disheveled Dana and she, too, was stretching. Only then she was not wearing a pink robe. There was nothing on her at all.

The trickster swallowed. The memories of a stormy night, which he had somehow managed to suppress a few hours ago, flooded with renewed vigor. Again he felt the viscous warmth slowly spread through his body and his pulse quickened. And all this despite the fact that the woman in front of him was dressed. Not completely, but still.

He desperately wanted to touch her. And not only…

"Whatever you're fantasizing about, trickster," said Dana with her eyes closed, still standing on her tiptoes with herhands up, "no."

"Why?" he asked immediately. He had no intention of asking how she knew about the nature of his thoughts.

"Because it was one-night stand. Therefore, as I already said, there will be no repetition."

"Why?" Loki took a step forward. The woman immediately stopped stretching and opened her eyes, but did not take a step back. "It was great. Just amazing, I would even say."

"Of course it was, I was directly involved in this,” she shrugged casually. “Although I have to admit, you were pretty good too. But here's the thing, trickster, this kind of thing is good because it is short-lived. They happened, left a vivid memory and departed."

"A vivid memory doesn't have to be only one," he took another step. Dana was still stubbornly standing still.

"Too many shared memories can, say, put in someone's head a false idea of the nature of someone's relationship. Many people tend to confuse sex with falling in love."

"Good thing you and I don't belong to these many," another step. "I admit, I'm somewhat insane, but not enough to fall in love. Especially with someone like you. I try to avoid bitchy and impudent women, just as my brother avoids deliberate actions, and you won't meet many women more bitchy and impudent than you!"

"You are flattering me," the brown-haired woman grinned.

"There is more poison in you than in all the secret places of the aristocrats put together, and your absolute confidence in your own righteousness is even worse than your bastardness and eternal discontent."

"I like your way of explaining yourself, trickster. I have never heard such compliments."

"You annoy me like no one and nothing else," they were separated by only some three steps. "And sometimes I really want to strangle you."

"Congratulations, trickster, your feelings are mutual."

"But at the same time, I want you more than anything."

"Hmm, to strangle and to have sex on a regular basis... You have rather antagonistic desires, trickster," Dana muttered, still not moving from her place.

"That's for sure."

Silence reigned in the kitchen again, broken only by the ticking of the clock. However, everyone got used to this sound so much that they did not even pay attention.

"And I recently decided for myself to make friends with you, you know?" Dana broke the silence after a couple of minutes. "And here you are with your desires... Not that I would be against sex. Quite the opposite, usually I am with both my hands up for it, but..."

"But what?" Loki asked impatiently. The fact that this woman did not say no again gave good reason to hope that the sentence would be changed in his favor.

"I want a new friend more than I want a new sexual partner."

"It is not necessary to choose only one thing."

"My life experience says that it is," the brown-haired woman sighed. “You see, trickster, I have no problem distinguishing one from the other. Probably due to the fact that I have lived longer and have better self-control, or I am simply not able to love someone more than myself... Anyway, it doesn't matter. The fact is that I can combine sex with friendship in such a way that there is no illusion or, God forbid, genuine love. But my, say, "second halves"... Well, they eventually began to have problems with this. And this, in turn, made problems for me. After all, it just so happened that mixing friendship and love - no matter whether it is real or not - is much more difficult than mixing friendship and sex. Both sides suffer: one - because of unrequited love, and the other - because of a fucked up friendship. And I don't have that many friends to throw around trickster. So…"

"This will not happen with me,” Loki interrupted her, taking another step forward. "I've also lived a lot, and I am also good friends with my own head. Although I must confess that with your appearance on this ship, some components of my thinking have become a little insolent. But I am prudent enough not to create illusions for myself, and even more so to believe them. Unlike you, I am trully selfish and primarily think about myself and not about others. Within reasonable limits, of course. And being friends with you is much more profitable for me than falling in love with you. Thus you don't have to worry about me getting tender feelings for you, bitch. This will never happen."

Another pause.

"You promise?" Dana asked quietly after some time of active reflection. "Are you ready to swear by the memory of your mother that you will not fall in love with me?"

"And won't you believe the usual "I give you my word”?

"Your word? Bitch please! Even your brother learned not to believe it. And this is considering his level of intellectual development."

" Yeah. So far, this was perhaps his most outstanding achievement,” the trickster chuckled. "In that case, I swear by the memory of my mother that I will never fall in love with the bitchy impudent woman who is now standing in front of me. Well, what do you say now?"

The last step that separated them from each other was already overcome by Dana. It was more difficult to reach Loki's face while standing than it was when she was astride, but still she succeeded. She kissed him the same way she had on that night in the blizzard: hard, assertive, deep, using both her tongue and sharp teeth. The trickster paid her in the same coin. One of his hands buried in her tousled hair, tangling it even more, and the other wrapped around her back like a snake, pressing her body against his almost to the point of pain in the ribs.

The woman broke the kiss as abruptly as she began it, but was in no hurry to pull back. They continued to stand close to each other for a while, breathing heavily and not daring to break eye contact.

"Was it yes?" Loki asked in a whisper.

"It was "I'll think about it."

Chapter Text

Today was a very important day not only for Thor and Loki, but for the entire people of Asgard. After all, the end of the week has come, which means that it is time to hand over the homework. And the homework of the Odinsons was to determine at least the approximate location of the future permanent residence of the Asgardians. And this, you know, is not the kind of homework that can be done in accordance with the immortal student principle of "make and forget." Here, as it were, the fate of an entire people was being determined.

However, even such high stakes could not prevail over the procrastination of the Thunderer, and therefore the homework was carried out in accordance with another equally popular immortal student principle of "put off until tomorrow til tomorrow becomes the last day of deadline."

However, Thor knew from the very beginning where he was going to found New Asgard (yes-yes, he had already invented the name). He just had no idea where exactly this "where" was, and how this "where" was called. But after spending a couple of hours on some explanations and general descriptions of the area, they managed to get a couple of names from Bruce. And then Thor just chose the one that sounded the best.

"Norway?" Dana arched an eyebrow in surprise. The reason for such a reaction was not so much the choice itself, but the fact that her students decided on the country, and not on the mainland.

Looks like these two are not all that hopeless, she said to herself.

"Yes," Thor smiled happily. "Because it sounds similar to the Norns."

Dana could barely resist herself from doing the face-palm.

I'm taking back my words, the woman thought, looking at the thunder god either in displeased way or doomed. They are still that hopeless.

"Okay, let be it," she sighed. "Do you know anything about Norway?"

"Father spent his last days there,” Thor replied, and then his face turned noticeably sad. "And there Hela smashed my Mjolnir."

"Mew-what?"

"His favorite hammer,” Loki replied.

"Could've said said so from the start,"  the woman muttered. "Is it all?"

"Well," the elder Odinson pondered. "This Norway, it seems, is located in the northern hemisphere. It's rather green there, and the ocean is nearby."

"Hmm. Frankly, after the statement about the Norns, I expected worse. So, at least you know the approximate location. That's good," Dana fixed her gaze somewhere at the ceiling, thinking. "Then let's make it this way: today I will let you go early - after about four hours or so - and will tell you about Norway the most basic facts. If you understand that this option does not suit you, then we will select more. If everything is ok, then tomorrow we will begin to get acquainted in detail with the features of the landscape and resources. Then, in two or three days, we will switch to history. We are not gonna look through all of it - there is simply no time for this - we'll just go over only the last three centuries. Well, and then I will acquaint you two with the political internal structure, international political and economic relations, famous personalities, and so on on the list. In parallel, we will try to delve into international law, how it works and how it sometimes doesn't. And you definitely need to be told about a couple of international organizations..."

Thor and Loki sat in silence in their almost native infirmary and listened. With every word of this woman, their faces grew paler, their eyes -dimmer, and their love for life - weaker. In general, they now resembled students more than ever. Only they did not have another fifty individuals like them, from whom it would be possible to copy the lecture notes if they were absent for a good reason (the absence of wish considered good enough).

Dana looked at them with undisguised gloating. Not many people get the chance to make a specimen of royal blood feel on par with "ordinary mortals." And she managed to get two such individuals! And these two, unlike her other students, will not go anywhere...

"Okay then," the woman sat down on the table and crossed her legs. "Shall we start our lesson? So Norway..."

COnsidering that today's lecture lasted only three and a half hours, not a full day as is usually did, their small group managed to get together not only for breakfast, but also for lunch. Rather, for the process of preparing this very lunch.

"Hey, Bruce, move over. I have nowhere to put meat."

"Thor, you have already occupied two kitchen cabinets. Have some decency!"

"Where are all the knives ... Hey! You could have just given me it, not thrown it at me, trickster."

"But you got it? didn't you? I don't see any problem here."

"Oh, Loki! Can you conjure up another tabletop? Bruce left me no room."

"Me?! You scattered your groceries and kitchen utensils everywhere!"

"Dana, move over. You blocked the microwave."

"Don't tell me you're going to eat this trash, sweetie. Again."

"Up yours. It's fast-food."

"That is, trash."

"Hell no."

"Hell yes! Not only you fill your stomach with alcoholic acid, but you also shove all sorts of trash there as well. Make yourself a normal meal, sweetie. Your body will say thank you."

"I can't cook and you know it!"

"Yes, and that's why I kept giving you cookbooks all the time, sweetie. So that you to learn! Have you read one?"

"Um... I didn't have time, here!"

"Bullshit, you had plenty of time! You didn't have desire."

"Oh, so you have cookbooks?" Thor perked up. "Can you give me a couple to read?"

And there was silence. It is said that silence is the opposite of noise. This is not true. Silence is just the absence of noise. The silence would have seemed an eerie cacophony compared to the sudden soft collapse of the noiselessness that set in in the kitchen. Even the clock on the wall stopped ticking.

"I never thought I'd say that,” Dana began. Her face took on a rather rare expression of shock, "but, sweetie, take an example from our goldilocks."

"Read a book... No, not exactly, a couple of books..." Loki was shocked by such a statement no less. "Brother, I'm proud of you. Perhaps for the first time."

"Has he never read a book before?" Bruce was shocked rather to fit. He was not quite aware of the significance of what had just happened.

"On his own? Without parental or teacher guidance? Never."

"Come on, brother..."

"Tell me I lied."

"Well, I wouldn't say "lied"..."  the god of thunder hesitated. "Exaggerated?"

"And where did I exaggerate?" asked the trickster.

"I did read voluntarily. And many times. Just different literature."

"Thor, the menu in taverns is not literature."

"I can't believe you never took up a book of your own free will,” Banner decided to join, too.

"I can," Dana said. "And easily."

"You’re… more than a thousand years old!" continued the scientist. "Just how much you could've read..."

"Well, he read many menus in taverns, I can assure you of this," Loki grinned.

"Enough for you already!" Thor responded with displeasure. He was already beginning to regret his request for a cookbook. "I'll never talk to you again..."

"You promise?"

"Away with you, brother."

"Yeah, didn't last long," Dana muttered and turned to the Valkyrie. "Returning to the topic, sweetie, you already have this trash..."

"Fast-food," her friend immediately corrected.

"Like I said - trash. So, you eat this every day instead of a normal breakfast and something tells me that instead of a normal dinner, too."

"So what? It's tasty and quick to prepare!"

"And the fact that it is junk! You are ruining your own organism."

"My organism is strong, it will withstand," Brunnhilde dismissed, making another attempt to shove a plate of semi-finished products into the microwave.

Dana continued to stubbornly block her path, standing with her arms crossed on her chest and staring discontentedly.

"Eat. Normal. Food."

"Dana..."

"Otherwise I will throw all the remaining supplies of this trash into outer space."

"In that case, my death by starvation will be on your conscience."

"Bold of you to assume I have conscience, sweetie."

"Look, You are right..."

"Of course, I am."

"... I had no desire to read all those cookery books that you had given me..."

"Though you had more than enough desire to drink unrestrainedly," she again interrupted her friend with her grumbling.

"Therefore," Brunnhilde emphasized this word, "my culinary skills..."

"Or rather their complete absence."

"Dana," the Valkyrie looked at her with displeasure. "So, my culinary skills remained at the same level, which, as you correctly noted, leaves much to be desired..." the brown-haired woman was already opening her mouth again, but this time the Asgardian woman managed to get ahead of her. "And don't you dare say something now, like: "Of course, because it can't get any worse."

"Looks like years of our friendship have not been in vain for you,” Dana smiled with satisfaction.

"ANyway, what is the pount of all this... I didn’t know how to cook, and I don't know now. So if you throw away all my fast-food, I'll starve to death."

"Do you want me to cook for you?" Thor suggested, putting the contents of his frying pan on a plate. "It won't be difficult for me."

The Valkyrie looked at... whatever it was on the plate. Then she looked at the god of thunder. His face was almost glowing with sincerity and benevolent intentions. Her gaze dropped back to the contents of the plate.

"And this is at best,” she concluded, turning to her friend again.

Dana, too, carefully studied the substance that Thor proudly called dinner, and seems to have come to a similar conclusion.

"Fine," the brown-haired woman sighed. "So be it, I'll cook something for you too. Let's remember the old days."

"You cook, I clean?" Brunnhilde smiled at the memory. She proposed this concept thirty years ago. It's just that when Dana did the cleaning, the Valkyrie then spent weeks in search of her things in her own apartment.

"More precisely, wash the dishes," the woman replied, taking a set of groceries from the refrigerator and taking a place at the cutting board. Thor migrated to the table, and Bruce - to the vacated oven. “But that’s only until you learn how to cook a little. And you will learn, trust me."

"I see, you completely got used to the role of a teacher, my friend," Brunnhilde muttered displeased. She had no doubts that she could not get away from the culinary and educational process.

"Sweetie, I never stepped out of it."

Bruce was perhaps the only one in whom Dana evoked only pleasant feelings. Years of training in anger management and a couple of years of friendship with Tony Stark taught him not to pay attention to sarcasm and taunts. The woman also never caused him physical harm, and therefore he also did not feel fear of her. Moreover, then, in the forests of Uinbjerg, she, one might say, saved him. Tracked by the smell, scared the Hulk and prevented him from turning into an icicle on the way to the starship.

But what he liked most about her was her “earthiness”. It was still necessary to look for another such "earthly" person. Yes, of course, Dana has visited other planets and other worlds more than once, but, as it's said, the Earth has always been in her heart - and in the liver, and in the spleen, and in everything else too. This woman was a walking reminder of his native blue-green planet, which Bruce missed incredibly.

And her "earthiness" was especially strong during the preparation of dinner. First, she called all products by earthly names. Spices as well. Secondly, she sang to herself under her breath the motifs of earthly songs familiar to Banner. And thirdly, as soon as someone took a step in the wrong direction, Dana, like any earthly woman, immediately barked with displeasure: "Sit down and do not get in the way!"

It feels like I’m back in my mom’s kitchen, thought Bruce, watching Dana watching the fish. She was looking at the frying pan as if it had somehow managed to do something wrong. Only two almost-deities and a drinking Valkyrie were not sitting with me then. Speaking of deities...

Banner was not the only one watching. Loki, who had finished his dinner long ago (damn magic cheater), was also staring at the woman. Moreover, he looked at her with about the same intensity with which Coulson - may his soul rest in vintage paradise - looked at Steve Rogers. Only the agent did not undress his idol with his eyes. Although... who knows. In case of fangirls it is okay, but in case of him - no less a fan - no?

Though, Loki is a man, Bruce thought, looking at the trickster, then at the object of his close attention. Men tend to look at beautiful women sometimes. And Dana definitely belongs to the latter.

With some part of his mind, Banner understood that judging the Asgardians by humans was not entirely correct, but he could not possibly perceive them as gods. It is very difficult to believe in the divinity of people with whom you have breakfast at the same table every morning.

"Bon appetit, sweetie," Dana put a plate of fried fish and some kind of side dish in front of her friend and, having saddled her chair in the usual manner, joined the others at the dinner table. “Your stomach will at least remember what normal food tastes like."

"Thank you," the Valkyrie immediately grabbed the cutlery. Dana was right: as soon as she put the first bite into her mouth, her stomach seemed to not only grumble gratitude, but offered a whole prayer for the chef's health. "This is amazing…"

"I bet it is," the brown-haired woman shrugged her shoulders and also began to eat. "Seafood is generally a very useful thing for the body, sweetie. As we land in Norway, I will definitely take you to Oslo. There is a fish restaurant called Fiskeriet Youngstorget. I don’t know where they hire their cooks, but their guys cook… Bare fantastisk! If you liked the fish I made so much, then the dishes there will make you experience a gustatory orgasm, sweetie."

"We are landing in Norway?" Bruce sounded surprised.

"We are landing where?" the Valkyrie was surprised no less.

"Yes, Bruce,” Thor replied. “We're going to found New Asgard there."

"And why do I get to know about this just now?" Brunnhilde wondered. She was generally unaware that a "vote" had taken place regarding their future permanent residence.

"Because besides this very fact there is nothing more to report,” Loki replied. "We have only decided on the country. It is not yet known in which part of this country we will be located. And what kind of territory we need. And how will all this be discussed and with whom..."

"Don't worry, trickster, I will give you more than one lecture on this topic," Dana assured him.

"I'm wondering, maybe I should listen resemble your lectures as well?" Brunnhilde said. She also wanted to be a part of it all. In fact, they are now making the history of New Asgard. "Since I have to live in this Norway, it would be nice to find out about it."

Dana looked at her strangely. The Valkyrie even for a second thought that in her friend's eyes she noticed something like... sadness? However, whatever it was, it quickly disappeared.

"You are gonna live with them?" the woman asked. “I thought you’d stay with me. My house is bigger than your apartment, so you and I would have more than enough space. I was planning to take you to the places that I have told you about all these years. First of all, of course, I would take you to Nordstrom Rack and Bellevue Square to update your wardrobe, sweetie. Although, I would not say that Seattle is an ideal city for shopping. I usually go for clothes either to the Internet or to Europe..."

"Dana..."

"And after shopping, I would take you to the Chocolate Factory. The sweets they make, m-m-m... so delicious you'll lick your fingers!"

"Dana."

"And Pike Place Market. Necessarily. There is always the freshest catch since 1907. As far as I know, this is one of the oldest USA markets..."

"Dana."

"Then you and I would wander around the museums... I, of course, have already been there a bunch of times, but a little cultural tourism will not hurt you. And after that..."

"Dana!" for the umpteenth time tried the Valkyrie.

"What?!"

"Slow down a little," Brunnhilde said in a calm tone. "I'm not going to hang around in Norway alone all my life. I will definitely come to visit you. Well, or you come to me, instead."

Bruce could swear that he felt Thor shudder at the thought. It just was not clear whether he was worried for himself or for the people of New Asgard.

"It goes without saying, sweet," the brown-haired woman said. "But I'd still like to give you a tour before you all start setting up in a new place. Then you just won't have time for the first few years. If not more."

"Actually, it would be nice to go to Seattle first," Banner said. "You will both give Dana a lift home, and help me get to New York faster. It's one thing to cross a country and another - to cross the ocean."

"Or we'll visit New York first," Thor suggested. "I'll visit the guys."

"You'd better make sure the guys in black don't visit your brother after what he did in New York," Dana said. "And the spaceship itself is certain to interest the guys from SHIELD no less. Especially when they find out that there is an alien people in it."

"Yeah, Fury will be fu..." Banner cleared his throat. "Very surprised."

"Is this bald pirate not retired yet?" the brown-haired woman asked.

"Do you know each other?"

"You could say that."

"I take it your acquaintance did not go the best way?" Loki suggested.

"Let's just say that his organization and I had some... disagreements," the woman began. "But we have come to an agreement."

"In other words, you made him agree to your terms,” the Valkyrie muttered to herself. Agreeing with Dana is the only way to reach a compromise.

"I did not make anyone do anything," the brown-haired woman disagreed with her friend. "I gave him a choice."

"And what was that choice?"

"Either he fulfills all my demands, or I get on the nerves of him and his agents for the rest of their days."

Yeah, the choice is obvious, Bruce thought. He remembered Director Fury. Now it is clear where he got such exposure. The agents of SHIELD are tough guys, of course, but not that much.

"And how long ago was it?" Bruce asked.

"Somewhere in the nineties."

"How did you get into their sight?"

"Hidden camera, damn it” the woman sighed in displeasure. "SHIELD then, as it turned out, was watching some object, and I accidentally hit the lens. Apparently, the transformation of a cat into a person seemed to them a suspicious sight. Then a couple of guys in black came to see me at work, although there was a sign on the door to the classroom “Exam is in progress. Do not disturb". Well, of course, I didn't organize a "show" with more than thirty witnesses. I had to follow them. The guys behaved quite politely, though. And then everything went according to the knurled pattern: a table, a chair, a lamp, an interrogation, and then a solitary confinement cell. I'd been there for a week."

"Yes, they do love cells," muttered the trickster.

"Couldn't you have laid one of your paths?" asked the Valkyrie.

"Why? It was interesting what they would undertake next. They undertook our pirate Fury. And oh, I did made some damage to his nerves... Anyway, our conversations with him dragged on for four long days, after which he said I could leave," a grin appeared on Dana's face. "Well, and I told him that I would not leave until he promises never to meddle in my affairs and generally stay away from my Seattle."

"I doubt he has ever come across prisoners who refuse to leave,” Banner felt more and more sorry for Fury.

"I wouldn't call myself a prisoner. After all, I could move freely throughout their base. They couldn't hold back the magic."

"And what were you doing there?" Loki asked.

Though, it was not difficult to guess. After all, they were talking about Dana...

"Nothing special, actually," the brown-haired woman replied. “I just made their life a little like hell."

"And how quickly did Fury agree to your terms?" that was the only intrigue in this story.

"Five days."

"Wow!" exclaimed Thor and the Valkyrie in unison.

"These man's nerves are trully something..." Bruce was amazed.

"Yeah, I really underestimated you humans,” admitted the trickster. "Perhaps, it really will not hurt to visit New York. At least in order to immediately dot all the "i"."

"New York, then..." Dana thought about it. “Then sweetie, we go shopping on Fifth Avenue first, then I'll show you Broadway. It, of course, does not shine as bright as Uinbjerg, but you will like it. We will take a walk in Central Park, then we'll go to a couple of museums: in the Met and, probably, in Solomon Guggenheim; and in the evening we will have fun in local clubs. I’ll finally find out how many new tracks were released while I was on Sakaar. Oh, and let's take at least one taxi ride. Preferably during rush hour: stand in a traffic jam for an hour or two and fully experience the atmosphere of New York. At the same time, you will understand what a traffic second is. And you will surely enrich your vocabulary, too, albeit maybe not quite normative, but very colorful lexis..."

Looks like I'm not the only one missing the Earth, Banner thought, looking at the Dana. She made plans with such enthusiasm that is inherent only in children who are about to end up at Disneyland. There was anticipation in her voice, and her eyes seemed to shine from within. It was weird to see such emotions in a woman who is usually grumpy most of the time. I wonder whether other guys will like her? One of them deffinitely will...

"Since we've started making plans for New York," Bruce began, and turned to Dana, "could you, please, remind me to introduce you to Tony Stark. I'm sure you'll get along well with him."

"You know, Home Alone, considering that I was recently hugging you half-naked in the middle of the woods, you can adress me in less formal way."

Three eyes immediately stared at Banner. The scientist felt that he began to blush rapidly.

"Th-that's not what you thought at all!" He immediately declared to the thunder god and the Valkyrie. "The Hulk suddenly backed down, a-and it was terribly cold there, and I-I was in my pants only, although it was hard to call them pants then... Anyway, nothing what you thought about happened!"

"Relax, Home Alone," Dana grinned. "They are well aware of that. They just scoff. And Tony Stark is that playboy in flying armor living in a tall-tall tower?"

"Y-you know him too?"

"Personally - no, but his physiognomy is rather difficult to ignore. Especially when it appears in half of the videos, magazines, news, and sexual harassment lawsuits."

"And what about other Avengers?" Thor wondered.

"Saw few videos in the Internet," the brown-haired woman shrugged. "They are not as infamous as their iron collegue."

"Don't tell me that you, brother, decided to introduce her to your "friends from work"?" asked Loki.

"Why only her?" a wide smile spread across the face of the god of thunder. “You and the Valkyrie as well!"

Loki immediately recalled his first encounter with the Avengers. So, he brainwashed Hawkeye, got into a fight with Captain America, insulted the Black Widow, threw Stark out of the window of his own tower... and that's just what he did with his own hands. And only in relation to the Avengers.

"You know, something tells me that's a really bad idea," finally replied the trickster.

"Oh, come on!" Thor patted his brother on the shoulder in a friendly way. "Those events are already in the past..."

"Which means, they are forever imprinted in history and they can no longer be changed."

"You just couldn't keep quiet, could you?" Brunhilde looked at her friend with displeasure.

"What?" Dana looked back at her. "It's true. The past cannot be changed. But the future... This thing is quite changeable."

"See?" Thor squeezed his brother's shoulder more tightly. "Everything changes over the time!"

"But not always for the better."

"Dana!"

"Fine, fine," the woman feigned raised her hands up. "But seriously, you shouldn't seem forward. It is one thing to plan for arrangement and bureaucratic hassle, but trying to predict someone's reaction... You'll just waste your nerves. We fly to New York and there we'll find out whether the idea was good or bad."

"That is, you are not against a new acquaintance?" Loki looked inquiringly at the brown-haired woman.

"No,” Dana replied. “After all, if something goes wrong, I’ll just pave my way to Seattle and - adiós amigos! But you, trickster, have something to think about. For example, what is the fastest way to start a run..."

Chapter Text

A few hours earlier, Brunnhilde had thought that it would be nice to start attending the "lectures" with Thor and Loki. Now, she wondered how this might even seem like a good idea to her, given the personality of the "lecturer."

The Valkyrie did not hope to get away from learning the culinary arts - damn it thrice - but she hoped that the educational process would begin a little later. She certainly didn’t expect her torment... sorry, her teaching would begin on the same day. Just before dinner.

At the moment, the Valkyrie was standing over the sink and washing the few remaining vegetables (or fruits, who knows) that Bruce did not have time to chop into his salads. And Dana continuously watched her every movement and sometimes - constantly - made some comments.

"Sweetie, I know, of course, there is such an old saying “eat a pound of dirt while you die”. However, it does not suggest that this pound should be all in one plate. Wash more thorough."

Brunnhilde began to wash the food even harder.

"And wash the pot as well," she added. "It must not have any remnants of what Home Alone cooked in it or, God forbid, our blondy chef. You are about to cook in this pot, and water, as they say, remembers everything that was in it."

Valkyrie has heard this saying more than once. In her opinion, it was rather... interesting theory. Though, when you think what some people leave in water, and if you also remember about the water cycle in nature... There comes a keen desire to switch to beer. Or something stronger. The higher the degree, the less germs, right?

"Now take the chopping board… you've already washed it, haven't you?"

"I'll wash it now," the Valkyrie muttered.

Dana seemed to be obsessed with cleanliness. She made her student friend thoroughly wash almost everything that she took in her hands, and every work surface.

"Now, sweetie, take the knife - washed - and start peeling those pink things."

"Then why was it necessary to wash them, if all the same to peel?" Brunnhilde asked. She had already washed so much that all the remnants of dirt from under her nails disappeared and the pads of her fingers wrinkled.

"Because," the woman replied insinuatingly. "Stop talking, start peeling."

Not that Brünnhilde disliked cooking. On the contrary, like any representative of Asgard, she loved to enjoy delicious food and in large quantities. And the pleasure was even greater if all this delicious food was prepared by someone else. Not only did Valkyrie not know how to cook, but also did not like it. Her family and friends, when they heard this, looked at her somehow... as if something was wrong with her. And at every opportunity she was repeated one more old saying "the way to a man's heart lies through his stomach." However, Brunnhilde was a warrior. And so she knew that to say that the way to a man's heart was through the stomach meant only to show one's ignorance in the field of anatomy, and in all other areas too. Unless you explain how to stab a man, and it really is better to do it from the bottom up and under the ribs.

"Have you finished peeling? Perfect. Now start cutting... Damn, is it how you cut, sweetie?Why didn't you just cut them in half and let it be? Cut it small. You can cut the meat into larger pieces."

I don't envy Thor and Loki, thought the Valkyrie, continuing to cut vegetables and arrange them on deep plates. She's tortured them like this all week long…

"That's it, finished,” Brunnhilde reported, cutting all the products into neat cubes and placing these cubes in containers.

"Finally! Now, sweetie, put the pot on the stove. It's time to cook the broth."

Brunnhilde obediently took cold water into a saucepan, put the bowl on the stove and turned on the burner. And then it started...

"Sweetie, are you trying to make soup or exorcise a demon? You could have just poured this salt around the catryusli. Your last name, by any chance, is not Winchester?..."

"Ok, now put the meat in the pot... I said put it. Not throw it like a village granny throws newborn kittens into a bucket!..."

"Now the vegetables... Not these, sweetie, others! These add last..."

"Does it look like pepper?..."

"Not this seasoning, the other one!..."

"Sweetie, your cooking skills would depress even Gordon Ramsay!"

"Don't you want to diminish the fire? The soup should be boiled, not evaporated!..."

Oh Gods, Norns, Demons, anyone! Spare me from all this, I'm begging you... the Valkyrie offered a mental prayer, removing the foam that appeared on the beion. How was she even allowed to teach children?

When the broth was at the stage where it could be left unattended, Dana began to teach the Valkyrie to cook dumplings. It turned out to be simpler than soup. If only because there was no need to wash a bunch of ingredients and split them into plates, and then remember what is thrown... sorry, put in a saucepan and in what order. And besides salt, no special additives were provided.

Brunnhilde coped with the dough fairly quickly and fairly easily. There were no problems with the formation of the balls themselves. The sticking point between the Valkyrie and the baking was technique.

"Sweetie, do I need to dig out Hitler so that he can show you how the oven works?"

"Better dig up the instructions," muttered the "chief" in response. "Why the heck are there so many buttons?"

"For cooking, no matter how hard it is to believe," Dana responded, pressing where needed. How she managed to figure out how this technique worked without the help of any instructions remained a mystery to the Valkyrie. "That's it, nothing complicated. Put the dumplings in the oven, sweetie. And wash your dishes and countertops after that."

"How long we bake them?"

"Five to ten minutes."

"And the soup?" asked Brunnhilde, again standing at the sink.

"You don’t need to bake the soup, sweetie. It must be liquid, not gaseous."

"I meant how long the soup will take?"

"An hour and a half or a bit more."

"So what, we just sit here and wait?"

"Well, why?" Dana grinned. "We can cook something else."

"No!" Brunnhilde immediately exclaimed. Soup with dumplings was already enough for her.

"You shouldn't be like that. I know a lot of recipes. We could make honey sauce, for example."

"Honey sauce?"

"Very tasty stuff. Plus, it's pretty versatile,” the woman said. "You can pour the honey sauce over ice cream, sherbet, waffles or smear it on the naked body you like."

"Dana!"

"What?" the smirk on her face only grew wider. "Did you know that we get the greatest pleasure from sex and from food? And if these two activities are combined..."

"Dana," the blush that appeared on the Valkyrie's cheeks quickly reached her ears.

"And if you combine sex and sweets..." the woman's face took on a dreamy expression. “You know, sweetie, I’ll probably make honey sauce in any case."

"And who are you going to smear it on?"

The question escaped her by itself. Brünnhilde was already preparing to hear another remark that would make even the roots of her hair blush, but this did not follow. Dana suddenly fell silent. The Valkyrie stared at her in surprise. Not that the question made her friend feel uncomfortable (you can't bring discomfort to Danya with vulgarities), but rather it made her think about something. The brown-haired woman looked as if she was preparing to make an incredibly important decision, and now she was weighing all the pros and cons in her head.

"I don’t even know what bothers me more now,” Brunhilde began. "The fact that I still haven't heard any taunts in response orr that you seem to be seriously thinking about my question."

"Unlike you sweetie, my libido is fine and it doesn't like long dry spells, so to speak,” Dana replied. "I want sex."

"We will make another stop in a couple of days. So, please, try to be patient somehow for a while and then indulge in debauchery for all day and night."

"Yeah, and then again for two weeks indulge in only the memory of this debauchery."

"Do you want to make stops more often?" asked the Valkyrie. "We will fly to the Earth for eternity if so."

"I want to make myself a partner here,” the woman replied. "I am thinking about one candidate right now."

"Please tell me it is not our trickster."

"It is not our trickster."

"Did you just lie to me?"

"Yep."

Silence.

"And I thought, your... ahem, "adventure" was a one-time thing," Brunhilde sighed.

"I thought so too."

Silence again.

"You're not..."

"Not what?"

"Not in lov..."

"No," Dana snapped immediately. "Don't talk nonsense, sweetie."

Another silence. This time, even more intense than the previous two.

"Then why did you suddenly decide to reconsider your decision?" the Valkyrie asked.

"Because he assured me that there will be no problems."

"And you believed him?"

"I made him swear on his mother’s memory."

"Hmm,” Brunnhilde said ambiguously. "Perhaps such an oath can be belived in. Loki, of course, is still a bastard, but as far as I know, he really loved his mother. And what kind of oath, if not a secret?"

"Never fall in love with me."

"You know, in such case simple "I promise" or "I give my word" would be more than enough," the Valkyrie grinned.

Dana looked at her with displeasure, narrowing her eyes, and then nodded towards the oven.

"Check the dumplings, sweetie. They may already be ready."

"And how am I supposed to know if they are ready or not?" Brunnhilde asked, opening the oven. The face was immediately bathed in heat.

"Take a knife - wash it first - and poke it in the middle. The dumplings should slide off the knife."

The Valkyrie did everything as she was told.

"Um,” she cleared her throat. "And if the knife bends?"

"Then you made a mistake somewhere?"

Dinner proceeded in about the same atmosphere as today's lunch. In other words, no one’s mouth closed. Even the process of chewing food not always and not for everyone turned out to be a good reason to be silent.

"Listen, you did a good job!" Thor declared, finishing his bowl of soup. So far, this was the first normal food prepared by the Valkyrie, after eating which no one was taken to the nearest hospital (and from there to the morgue). "Oh, what's in that plate?"

There was a short but significant pause.

"Dumplings,” the Valkyrie replied after a short silence.

"Although, if they were larger, they could very well pass for a siege weapon that is dropped on the heads of enemies,” Dana muttered in response, squinting at her plate with the edge of her eye. In some incredible way, her friend, even under strict supervision, managed to give the dumplings a hardness that is not always inherent even in cement.

The male part of their team stretched out their necks and looked with interest into the deep plate. In appearance, they resembled small round and oval pebbles. Even a quick glance at these dumplings could make you eat anything, just not them. Thor, as the most daring (or the most reckless), was the first to reach out to the plate with his hand and pulled out one of the balls. They really looked like a pebble. And felt, honestly, too.

Thor twirled the ball in his fingers a little more, then put it in his mouth and began to chew. A loud crunch came from behind his cheeks. The only hope remained that it was the crunch of the dumpling, not his teeth. After two minutes of crunching, Thor's Adam's apple twitched, which meant that the food (or teeth) had been swallowed.

Everyone else immediately stared at him with a mute question in their eyes. Everyone except Dana. She looked at him as if he was a puppy who had just done some incredible trick. The bartender in that tavern in Uinbjerg gazed at him in much the same way when the thunder god gulped down a pint of Higilga almost in one gulp.

"So, how is it?" asked Bruce.

"Well,” Thor began cautiously. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when they saw that his teeth were still in place. "It can be eaten."

"See?" exclaimed Brunhilde, turning to her friend. “It's not as bad as you said."

"If desired, boots can be eaten too, so it doesn't mean anything,” Dana answered and stared at Thor again. "Did you really like it?"

"Well, to be honest, I would slightly changed the recipe so that these dumplings become more, um..."

"Attractive not only for those who hang out in the middle of the ocean on a life raft, having already eaten both boots, and the weakest victim," prompted him brown-haired woman.

"Come on!" the Valkyrie responded with displeasure. "Yes, they grew slightly stale... But they will be stored longer."

"Of course they will," Loki agreed with her, thoughtfully twirling a pebble (he refused to call it food) in his hand. "No one will encroach on them. There are more edible things in this world..."

"The world is full of more edible things than these dumplings, for that matter."

"The very same boots, for instance," added the trickster.

"Are they that bad?" Bruce asked. He has not yet dared not only to try food (in the broadest sense of this word), but even to take it in his hands.

"Let's just say that these dumplings won't let you die of hunger,” the trickster answered him. "However, you will desire death yourself."

"But if you still want to try them, then I advise you to soak them for a week in a pot of water,” Dana said. "And then eat the pot."

"Haven't you two had enough already, eh?" Brunnhilde sighed wearily. She's been criticized for half a day and she got tired of it. "Yes, the dumplings came out lousy, I agree. I won't cook any more."

"You will, sweetie," the friend smiled at her as affectionately as a cat smiles at a caught mouse. "I will make you cook until you learn."

Seated next to the Valkyrie, Thor patted her on the shoulder in support. Loki just looked at her sympathetically.

When the water finally reached the right temperature, Dana stopped jerking the faucet back and forth and closed the tub drain so that water could be drawn in. Now the most difficult thing was to find in a bottomless (literally) bag some bath foam or some essential oils.

After about ten minutes of active searches, the thought crept into the woman's head that next time she should first find everything she needed, and only then get herself a bath. Because in this case the water will have time to fill the bath three times, while Dana finds the necessary bottles in her bag.

"Fuh, finally!" exclaimed the brown-haired woman, finding a small vial. She unscrewed the lid and sniffed. “Mmm… tangerine oil. Now is not New Year, of course, but let be it."

Dana dripped some aromatic oil into the hot water, closed the bottle and put it back in her bag. The woman looked around the bathroom. Towels are in place. Gels, shampoos and other shower\bath products are in place. A waterproof phone with thousands of songs in it - in place. The robe was on her, and therefore also in place. Everything seems to be fine. It remains only to wait thirty or forty minutes until the bath is filled.

And in the meantime, it'd be nice to drink some milk, the brown-haired woman decided and went to the kitchen.

Dana was not at all surprised when she found a trickster in the kitchen. He always came here before bed to have tea. She knew about this habit of his, and also often visited the kitchen to drink milk. And to hear about Asgard. Evening conversations in the kitchen in private have become almost a tradition.

"So, trickster," the woman began, pouring herself milk, "last time you promised to tell me about Bifrost. As far as I know from those bits of information that I already have, this is something like an express for traveling between worlds."

"You could say that,” Loki took a sip of the hot drink and put down the cup. "But not between all worlds, but only nine. Look..."

Dana knew what was happening even before she saw it with her own eyes. Magic. She felt the trickster start using her. And a second later she saw what for.

"Hmm,” she drawled, examining the illusion above the table. “As I understand it, this is the very snag..."

"The tree,” Loki immediately corrected it. "Yggdrasil. And its nine worlds."

"Eight now."

"Yeah. Thanks for the reminder of the ruined house, bitch."

"You’re welcome, trickster."

"So,” he continued. "Bifrost is a rainbow bridge..."

"Which no longer exists."

"You enjoy sprinkling salt on people’s wounds, don’t you?”

"You need to put special disinfecting powder on the wounds, not salt,” Dana replied. “First, you disinfect, and then you put stitches, if necessary, and bandage…"

"That's not what I meant,” Loki interrupted her. "I mean your mockery..."

"I'm not mocking someone else's grief, trickster. I am only reminding you of what happened."

"It's cruel."

"Not at all," she shook her head. "I'm not cruel. Tough, yes, but not cruel, trickster. And remembering about the past is necessary. Firstly, it helps to avoid mistakes in the future. And secondly, these are your memories, and they must be treasured. They are part of your life. There is nothing better than memories, trickster."

Loki immediately remembered a couple of parts of his life. For example, the one where he fell into the void. Or the one where his mother was killed. Or the one where the end of Asgard came.

"And there’s nothing worse, either,” he summed up. “Besides, isn't it better to enjoy the present than to indulge in memories?"

"Hmm," Dana leaned forward a little, making the mirage tremble slightly. "But if you are indulging in memories now and it gives you pleasure, you, in fact, are enjoying the present. Don't you think so, trickster?"

"That's ... pretty logical," he admitted. "However, can unpleasant memories bring you any joy?"

"It brings me joy to know that they are all in the past."

"Wouldn't you rather prefer there were none of them at all?"

"None of the memories or none of what became these memories?" Dana clarified.

"Both."

She thought about it. Memories... She had plenty of them. Both pleasant and not really. Dana treasured them all equally carefully. She carefully treasures all her things. Everything that is hers is under her responsibility, and therefore she protects it. Memories are also her property. And her actions are also her own responsibility. It's all hers. And how dare someone take something that belongs to her?!

"No," the brown-haired woman answered sharply. "This all is mine. And I hate it when someone encroaches on something that belongs to me. So no, trickster. I want to keep all my memories for myself. Both good and bad. And as for actions, you cannot undo what you have done, no matter how hard you try. What's done is done."

"And you, it turns out, are rather possessive,” Loki chuckled.

"Don't tell me you only realized it now."

"Is it the same with people?"

"No. People, after all, are not things. They belong to themselves," Dana turned to him and looked without a drop of sarcasm or amusement. "When you start treating people like things, trickster, when you begin to consider yourself superior to them, better than them, when you begin to believe that you have the right to decide for them and teach them life because you consider them more stupid and lower than yourself, this means that you have crossed the line separating the neutral side from the evil. And evil attracts, beckons you with darkness farther and farther from the light. Until the darkness surrounds you from all sides and you no longer remember where you came from and where you were going. Once you cross this line, it is very difficult to go back. You must understand what I mean, don't you, trickster?"

And he did. She saw it in his face. Dana knew that she had awaken unpleasant memories in him, and not just New York, but she needed to see his reaction. She wanted to make sure the trickster had not only returned from the line, but had moved far enough from it.

"You can’t just come and build a better world for people based only on your idea of this very“ bettter world ”,” Loki said. "I understandd it now. Not without help, of course, but I did realized it."

"Right," Dana smiled. It turned out almost affectionately. "Only people themselves can build a better world for themselves. Otherwise, it's a cage."

"Yeah..." he drawled and grimaced slightly. "And sitting in cages is far from pleasant."

Judging by how unpleasant those memories are to him, he really sees the difference between good and evil again, the result of observation pleased her. Well, I got the answer to my last question. The decision has been made.

"Yes, trickster."

Dana again picked up a cup of milk and drank its contents in a couple of large gulps. And then she got up from the table and, rinsing the cup in the sink, and headed out of the kitchen under the slightly bewildered gaze of Loki.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Check how the bath is,” the woman answered, going out into the corridor. "How long are you gonna make me wait for you?"

"What?"

"Yeah, you and the goldilocks were definitely raised in the same family,” she muttered to herself. “I just told you yes, trickster. Wasn't it you who wanted to have sex on a regular basis? Or do you have something against baths?"

Judging by how quickly the illusion of Yggdrasil was dissolved, as well as how quickly Loki finished the remaining tea in his cup and followed her, he had nothing against baths. On the contrary, the trickster seemed to be all "for" it.

Chapter Text

Loki and Dana was watching the bath in silence. They were especially interested in the water level in it. Rather, this is what they should have been interested in, in the first place. In fact, they had as much interest in the bathtub as students have in sessions at eight in the morning. Especially if these are sessions of physical education.

"It's not even half-full."

"What a grief," there was not a single hint of this very grief in Dana's voice. "Probably because I started making myself a bath just ten or fifteen minutes ago."

"Hmm,” Loki drawled thoughtfully. "Then we should come here in thirty minutes or so."

"Or just wait here," she moved closer to him, placing her hand on his forearm.

"Just waiting here is boring, don't you think so?" his had immediately find its place on her waist.

"Then, we can make it that it's not boring," the corners of the woman's lips lifted in a playful smile. Her fingers slid slowly up his arm. "Do something interesting to while away the time."

"Mmmm,” the trickster hooked up the belt of pink robe with his finger and pulled it slightly, loosening the knot. The neckline has deepened noticeably. "Have you already got something on your mind?"

"Perhaps," Dana moved closer, almost clinging to the male body. Her hand had already made its way up his shoulder and stopped in the area of his neck, almost weightlessly stroking the pale skin with her fingertips. “And what about you, trickster? Got any ideas?"

"Oh yeah. A lot," the knot on the belt loosened even more. Loki's second hand also fell on the woman's waist and slowly crawled down to the end of pink robe. "And almost all of them are extremely obscene."

"Almost?" the brown-haired woman playfully raised an eyebrow. Her second hand joined the first, closing at the back of trickster's neck.

"I lied, you've got me," he chuckled, finally undoing the belt of her robe. The silk fabric fell open, hanging loosely on swarthy shoulders. "Absolutely all of them are extremely obscene."

"Perfect."

With this, she pulled him over and kissed him. Loki answered her without delay, noticing to himself that this was the most tender kiss she had ever given him so far. No, her hot tongue did not diminish its usual assertiveness at all, but the trickster did not feel the taste of his own blood in his mouth this time. Either she had a special mood today, or, during that stormy night, Loki did managed to wean her from this harmful (primarily for him) habit.

Without moveing away from her mouth, he crawled with both hands under the open pink robe and slowly run his palms down, grabbing the woman under her thighs. She immediately closed her legs behind him. The experience as a stripper, coupled with a hectic sex life, gave Dana hips strong enough to break bones. She didn't even have to hold on to her partner's shoulders in order not to fall: her legs coped with this task perfectly. Well, and two men's palms, quickly moving from the hips to her buttocks, served as a good insurance too.

They had to break away from each other after a couple of minutes. Firstly, to give their lungs a break. And secondly, in order to decide on, so to speak, a playground. Considering that they were in the bathroom, the choice was quite large: wall number one, wall number two, wall number three, wall number four, a wardrobe with towels, a bathtub and a floor. The ceiling was not considered an option for obvious reasons.

Three wide steps - and Dana's back is pressed against the wall number two. The cold metal felt through the thin pink silk made her flinch. However, the contrast of temperatures made her pay attention to one injustice. While she was wearing only a robe, covering just her arms and back, Loki was still fully clothed. This time it was not the Asgardian clothes, but the Sakarian ones. The only difference was the quality of the fabric. There were a lot of fasteners and rivets in both of them.

"Of all the clothes in that huge dump called Sakaar, did you have to choose the one with which to suffer longer?" asked Dana displeasedly, unfastening the clasp on his collar.

"It reminded me of Asgard,” the trickster replied, sliding his hands up her thighs to her wais and from there to her chest, enjoying the feeling of smooth hot skin under his fingers. And judging by the goosebumps appearing on this very skin, the recipient was also enjoying the touch.

"Yeah, that's obvious," the clasps holding the cloak were next in line. "As we arrive on Earth, trickster, I will drag you to shopping with the sweetie. If you and your brother are going to live there, you will need simpler clothes," she managed to deal with the cloak too. This is where all visible fasteners run out. "And right now you don't need clothes at all."

"You don’t know how to handle something more complicated than buttons and zippers, do you?" Loki chuckled as he unfastened other fasteners on the top of his clothes.

"Said the one who until this moment used exclusively magic to handle any clothes," she helped him take off the top. As soon as the blue jacket was on the floor, Dana immediately put her hot mouth to his collarbone, leaving a long, wet kiss on it, slightly scraping cool skin with her teeth. “The fewer the clothes, the better,” she slowly ran her rough tongue up, leaving a wet line on his neck, and left another tangible open-mouth kiss right behind his ear. "Don't you think so, trickster?"

At the moment, Loki could not think of anything at all except the woman he was pressing against the wall. And who just bit painfully his ear.

"Tts-s..." he hissed through clenched teeth and grabbed her hair, pushing her away from his face. The bitchy pert smirked smugly. “No, next time I’ll definitely gag you with something. And will tie you up."

"Oh, you like these games too, trickster?" she asked in a voice that would sound like an invitation to bed even with the phrase as innocent as “good morning”. “If you play by the rules, I might even pretend I can't free myself."

"By the rules, then,” while continuing to hold her by the hair, Loki bent down to her neck and began to leave wet kisses in especially sensitive places. He remembered them all to one. "Look who started talking about the rules..." his second hand returned to her waist and began to slowly rise up, probing each rib with his fingers. "And what are these rules, huh?"

"There are just two of them. Not to... ah," the trickster bit the delicate skin under the chin, "ruin clothes. And to observe the principle of reciprocity."

"The principle of reciprocity?" Loki looked at her questioningly, leaving her neck alone.

"Equivalent exchange. Pleasure for pleasure, trickster.” Dana brushed a lock of dark hair from his forehead. "Sex should be enjoyable for both partners. In the end, everyone should get what they want. No debt. Is that clear, trickster?"

"Perfectly clear, bitch."

This time the initiator of the kiss was him. The woman slid her hot tongue into his mouth, trying to take a leading position, and buried both hands in his hair, scratching his scalp with her nails. The trickster's fingers, meanwhile, reached her breasts and immediately began to crumple them. His other hand continued to play with the chocolate strands. Loki liked Dana's hair very much. It was so soft. Just like... just like...

Just like fur, a fitting comparison finally visited his head. Like well-groomed, sleek fur which you want to touch again and again...

He suddenly even wondered what kind of shampoo she was using. However, this thought (along with all the others too) immediately disappeared, as soon as Dana began to move against him, especially with the lower part of her body. Loki groaned through the kiss. He pushed the woman harder against the metal wall, either to immobilize her, or, on the contrary, to increase the friction.

If his aim was to immpbilize her, he did not manage to succeed. Even sandwiched between him and the wall, Dana contrived to wriggle teasingly, depriving the trickster of those miserable crumbs that remained of his analytical thinking. All other thinking vanished a long time ago. He clamped her hardened nipple between his fingers and barely had time to break the kiss before she could take revenge on him in her favorite way. The inability to bite his lips in blood once again clearly upset the woman, but with the hand of the trickster in chocolate hair held her head in place she could only express her displeasure with the uterine growl. Which, mixed with poorly restrained moans, sounded not warning at all. On the contrary, Loki found that he really liked this sound. So low, deep... sexy.

Dana's hands, meanwhile, left his hair alone and moved to his shoulders, squeezing them as tightly as possible with thin fingers, leaving small red crescents from - thank God - short nails. The trickster's hand that was playing with her breasts slowly slid down between their closely pressed bodies and froze on the inside of her left thigh, teasingly stroking the tender, hot skin, sending a wave of goosebumps. The woman closed her eyes in pleasure. Her left hand moved down Loki's shoulder, tracing each muscle contour with the pads of her fingers, until her palm covered his. She guided his hand up her thigh where she wanted to be touched the most, showing where and how to stroke her. Not that there was a special need for this. The trickster already knew perfectly well how to make Dana moan blissfully with her head thrown back.

She tried to find by touch the fastener on his trousers. It was not very easy to cope with it with the help of slippery fingers: the palm "accidentally" passed here and there, forcing Loki to swear at her either out loud or in his mind. When the woman managed to deal with the trousers, he had to unclench his fingers which had previously squeezed her soft strand, and rest his palm against the wall for additional support. Those thin fingers, hot and wet with her own juices, worked pure miracles without the use of any magic.

Meanwhile, feeling a certain freedom in the area of her head, Dana leaned forward, shoving trickster's parted mouth into hers with a hot kiss. A rough tongue immediately began to re-explore already familiar territory and sharp teeth now and then bit his lips, but not to blood. Her other hand crawled from his shoulder to his neck and then up to the back of his head. Now it was Dana who was holding Loki by the hair, not allowing him to pull away. Though, he's made no attempts so far.

Feeling the third finger inside her, the woman had to break the kiss with a groan, throwing her head back in in pure bliss.

"Damn you, trickster…” she swore in a whisper. Her own fingers began to move in time with his making the man's breath even heavier.

"Mutually, bitch,” the trickster replied in similar tone, pressing his forehead against hers and breathing through the open mouth. "Shall we prolong the foreplay or will we stop torturing each other?"

"Torturing, huh?" she grinned. "So, this is an expression of torture I see on your face? And I thought it was an expression of pure pleasure."

"The pleasure you're talking about, bitch, will come when I finally take you against this wall."

"Then what are you waiting for, trickster?"

"Nothing," he replied, not looking up from her almost completely black eyes, and, grabbing her under the thigh with one hand, lowered her onto himself in a smooth motion.

Dana placed both palms to his shoulders, squeezing them with her thin fingers like pincers - hot pincers - and, having received support for herself, began to move in rythm with Loki. Freedom of movement was severely limited: a metal wall (which had already heated up) rested against her back, and the front of her body was pressed close to the hard cool torso of the trickster. One of his hands continued to rest against the wall near her head, and the other was squeezing her thigh sometimes helping the woman moveing up and down, sometimes - vice versa, interfering.

They both breathed loudly and raggedly through their open mouths, now and then interrupting for short, wet, sloppy kisses - of which only one in three fell on the lips - and continued to press their foreheads together, looking at each other with eyes darkened with excitement. This eye contact had something of its own... intimate. Even more overt than their nakedness and what they were doing now.

"You are gorgeous,"  Loki whispered against her lips before catching them in another quick kiss. "So gorgeous..."

"And you..." another kiss. Almost got it on the lips, "talk too much," another kiss. And again by. "Especially compliments..."

"Compliments during sex do not count," the trickster, it seems, also slightly lost sight: the kiss fell just above the upper lip. "As well as insults. Your words, bitch, aren't they?"

This time, Dana managed to grab Loki's lower lip with her teeth and bite it, this time until it bleeds. A thin scarlet trickle slowly trickled down his chin. Coupled with dark hair and pale skin, he now looked like an immodest fantasy of a modest fan of "Twilight" and other teenage nonsense about vampires.

"You can add physical injuries to the list, too,” she said in a whisper, grinning smugly.

"Certainly," he replied in a promising tone. His imagination, which has recently led an existence independent of the rest of thinking, did not need to be repeated twice. New ideas began to appear on the shelf with ideas of gagged mouth and tying up. And with enviable speed.

Though none of them closed the eyes, when they were swept by a wave of orgasm, for a second, all the images in front of their eyes turned into a blurry, dark, but at the same time bright spot. It took them a few seconds to focus their gaze on each other again.

For a while they were just standing still, still pressed close to each other, and were gasping for air. Silent, without breaking eye contact. When the rapid pulse beats and deep breaths stopped drowning out all other sounds, Dana was able to hear what completely flew out of her head for the time of their "interesting something" with trickster. She looked over his shoulder. Loki, turning his head, followed her gaze.

Bath really managed to get together while they were "whiling away the time." Even more than that, another bathtub - right on the floor - was also rapidly replenished. The water pouring over the edges of the bathtub almost reached the door.

"Well," Loki said. "We definitely managed to while away the time."

"That's for sure,” Dana agreed with him. “Do you think this ship has a sign “Caution! Wet floor"? Although even if there is, I do not think that it will be of any help here."

"That's for sure."

Chapter Text

If earlier everyone had their own daily routine, now the general gathering in the kitchen has become a kind of unspoken tradition. Most often, the most discussed topic was the mastering of culinary skills by the Valkyrie. A number of experiments have proved that Brünnhilde is capable of developing the technique of boiling and frying products, but it is better not to let her do baking. Beign completely honest, it was best not to let her anywhere near the oven at all. Not that baking and Valkyrie were incompatible concepts, no. It was possible to combine them. However you are very unlikely to enjoy the result. In general, if Brunnhilde had ever decided to open her own bakery, the best - and most truthful - slogan would be: "Our pastry will make you swallow your teeth!"

Though Thor claimed that Korg liked her pastries very much.

"So, we are arriving today?" asked the god of thunder. "And we do we land?"

"Yes, about dinner-time," answered the Valkyrie. "On Simar. Never been there, but the description in the database was promising: many beaches and a wide variety of products."

"Not meat products, I hope," muttered Banner. He was fed up with meat, fish and poultry. He really wished to get some fiber.

"Looks like this time we are not landing in a slightly improved version of Jotunheim,” Loki commented, sipping his favorite tea as usual. "I'm glad."

"Let's see how glad you'll be when we get there, trickster," Dana chuckled. "I've been to Simar. There really are a lot of beaches and all kinds of fruits. And there are also three suns. So, a truly warm welcome is guaranteed."

"From a copy of Jotunheim to a copy of Muspelheim..." the trickster muttered displeasedly and turned to the Valkyrie. "And our third stop is not going to look like Helheim, by any chance?"

"You sound like I deliberately choose such places."

"Isn't that so?" Dana asked. "By the way, what does this Muspelheim look like?"

"Better than Helheim," Loki replied. "If you want, I can tell you more in detail in the evening."

"No, trickster, this evening you promised to tell me about the dwarves who forged our goldilocks' favorite hammer. Which your "beloved" older sister broke."

"Hey, it was a blow below the belt,” Thor said displeasedly. The mental wound from the loss of a beloved weapon was still fresh and aching.

"If I wanted to give you a blow below the belt, I would have just kicked you in the groin."

All three male representatives immediately shivered. Loki shuddered particularly strongly. The incident in Uinbjerg's hotel room was forever imprinted in his memory.

"When was the last time you were on Simar?" Brunnhilde asked. "And where exactly?"

"Many where, in fact," the woman replied. "And I was there relatively recently. I returned from there a week before I got on this ship."

"You'd been there all those two years we weren't in touch?"

"Yep."

"And what were you doing there?"

"Many things, sweetie."

"Can you be more specific?" the Valkyrie did not give up.

"Nope," Dana answered shortly, hinting with all her appearance that the topic is closed. "Where exactly are we going to land? Near the sea, I hope? I would love to have a week on the beach. Sea, sun... or rather suns, sand, fruit cocktails, m-m-m... You have to buy sunscreen so you don't get burned, sweetie. And a swimsuit will not hurt you..."

"Slow down, my friend," the Valkyrie interrupted her. "Firstly, we are not there for a week, but for a maximum of three days. Secondly, I have not yet decided in which city to land the ship. But if you want near the sea, then let it be near the sea, I do not mind."

"The cities on the coast have the most hotels."

"But if we stay there no more than three days, wouldn't it be easier to stay on the ship?" Bruce asked. "It will be both cheaper and with no need to collect everyone around the city."

"He has a point," Thor agreed with his friend.

"Not a great point," objected Dana. “You see, Home Alone, goldilocks, on Simar people take ecology very seriously. Vehicles that pollute the atmosphere in one way or another are prohibited in cities. It's already very stuffy there, exhaust gases are not the most welcomed thing. Even electricity is almost never used there... Anyway, what I'm saying is we will have to land at one of the airports, and they are all located at a distance of at least ten kilometers from settlements so as not to pollute the air there. Of course, if you don't mind covering this distance every time you feel like eating or sneaking around the shops and so on, then of course feel free to stay on the ship."

"And you decided to tell about this local peculiarity just now?"

"Well, sweetie, you decided to tell me about our next destination just now too." 

"So, we will have to find hotel-rooms for more than half a thousand Asgardians," summed up Loki. “Plus, the revolitionists from Sakaar. Yeah... Maybe we will stop on some other planet?"

"Simar is the closest,” Brunnhilde replied. “Mkhandra is relatively close, but it’s three days longer to fly to it. Considering that we had to stay near Bluin for a couple of days and transfer part of the fuel to another ship, we simply won't have enough fuel to fly to Mkhandra. So, Simar it is."

"I can book rooms for everyone," Thor volunteered. "No difficulties for me."

"Though I'm not sure you won't cause difficulties for us," Loki muttered under his breath. “We won’t have to go all ten kilometers on foot, will we?”

"Don't worry, trickster, you won't get blisters on your feet. Eco-transport has not yet been banned there."

Something in Dana's words made Bruce wary. He may not have known her as closely as he's known Thor, but he learned a few things. One was that if the wording of this woman's words contains at least a small likelihood of a misinterpretation, it is worth asking and refining until her answer acquires one single possible meaning.

"What exactly did you mean by eco-transport?" asked Banner. "It can't be electric cars, because you said yourself that electricity is on this... Simar is almost not used, and riding bicycles under the heat of three suns... It sounds pretty much like Hell."

"I am pleased with the craving for details that has developed in you, Home Alone. Learn from your friend, goldilocks," it was not clear why, but Dana looked extremely pleased. Bruce's supervisor looked about the same when he defended his first thesis. "Eco-transport in this context is horses."

Banner could swear he saw Thor's eyes... that is, eye light up. And Loki, if you look closely, also got hold of a mute delight somewhere. And Brunnhilde too.

"Horses?" the god of thunder broke into a wide joyful smile, like a child who was told that tomorrow they are going to Disneyland. "That's great!"

"Yeah, at least one good thing," the trickster agreed with his brother.

"I can’t even remember the last time I sat in the saddle…” the Valkyrie sighed dreamily.

"I never did," Bruce admitted.

"Me too, Home Alone."

"Oh, don't worry, my friend, I'll teach you horseback riding," Brunnhilde's eyes instantly lit up with enthusiasm. Finally, she will be in the role of a teacher. "And you, Bruce, too. You'll see, I will quickly make riders out of you!"

"Sweetie, I already am an excellent rider," Dana answered her, grinning.

"You just said yourself that you've never sat in the saddle,” the Valkyrie stared at her friend in confusion.

"Yep. However, this did not stop me from achieving excellent results,” the grin on her friend's face became wider. But the face of Bruce sitting next to her, for some reason, became redder. “You can ask the trickster, he'll confirm."

"Confirm," Loki said with a similar grin. “She is just a gorgeous rider".

"Oh ,no-no-no, spare me these details!" Brunnhilde's face took on about the same shade as Banner's. And the latter was even stareing at the long-empty plate, not daring to meet with his eyes with anyone. Especially with the discussed ones. “I still can't get used to the fact that the two of you, ahem, befriended."

A little more, and one could melt chocolate on Bruce's cheeks.

"By the way, yes. I thought you two couldn't stand each other,” Thor admitted. “It's really good that we're all friends here now."

"I completely agree with you, brother. It's good to have friends,” a smirk didn't leave Loki's face. "So good."

"Just amazing,” Dana added with a similar expression on her face.

The blush, which covered the face of the Valkyrie from the chin to the ears, confidently headed to her knees.

"Although I don’t quite understand what you meant about the fact that you’ve never been in the saddle, but at the same time you ride well,” the thunde god admitted. "Are you saying you rode a horse bareback?"

"Oh gods..." Dana seemed on the verge of not starting to laugh. "You know, goldilocks, I even begin to like your innocence. It's rather funny than annoying. And no, when I said I never sat in the saddle, I meant that I never sat on a horse at all."

"Oh," Thor drawled understandingly. "Did you ride another animal?"

"Well, I think in a sense you can say so,” she replied. "We all are, in some way, animals, after all."

"Finally, we sorted that out," the thunder god smiled happily. “But how does Loki know if you’re a good rider or not?”

"You're right, bitch, this is truly hilarious,” said the trickster, watching everyone: the brother (this embodiment of holy innocence) and the Valkyrie with the avenger with equally flushed faces.

"Let's just say, goldilocks, I clearly demonstrated my skills to him."

"More than once,” Loki added.

"That's it, enough!"  the Valkyrie, as red as Thor's former cloak, could not stand it any more. "We're landing in a few hours. We need to prepare."

"I totally agree,” Bruce said in one breath and flew out of the kitchen like a bullet until his red face turned green. Although in the presence of Dana, the Hulk sat in his subconscious as quietly as a mouse.

"Okay," the brown-haired woman got up from the table and stretched. "I'll go rummaging in my bag for summer dresses. I'll look for a swimsuit for you at the same time, sweetie. Maybe I'll even find something of your size."

"Excellent,” Brunnhilde said more calmly. “If you need me, I'll be in the cockpit."

Soon, only two remained in the kitchen: the god of thunder, who had not quite grasped the situation, and the trickster, finishing his sixth cup of tea for today. The silence was broken only by the familiar measured ticking of the clock on the wall.

"But still, I did not quite understand," after a short silence began Thor, "how could Dana demonstrate to you her riding skills?"

This time Loki did not manage to contain a few quiet chuckles, which made him nearly choke on his favorite drink. Really, just how did his brother manage to live to his age, being so simple-minded?

"In the most delightful way possible, brother."

"And what was that exactly?"

"I'll tell you when you grow up alittle."

Chapter Text

dress 1

dress 2

Simar seemed to be the complete opposite of Bluin. Firstly, it was at least half the size. Secondly, instead of cold shades of blue and white, warm colors such as golden yellow, orange, azure blue and in some places deep green reigned. Thirdly, if on Bluin you do not have time to properly wake up, as it's already dark, then on Simar, with its three suns, the dark time of the day was reduced to some four hours. For the remaining twenty-four hours, at least one sun was shining. And, finally, it was incredibly hot on Simar. And stuffy. And sometimes - very windy. If you just thought that here it is: a saving cool breeze, then fuck you. The winds on Simar were very hot. Do you know this thing on a coffee machine that foams milk with a stream? Imagine your skin instead of milk and get an approximate idea of what the Simarian winds look like.

Approaching one of the airports, the Valkyrie could not help drawing a parallel between Simar and Bluin. Both there and there there was a lot of uninhabited territory. From the height, Brunnhilde managed to see well the location of settlements. The cities were located at great distances from each other, with the exception of those that were on the coastline. And it is not surprising, because the most part of the planet was occupied by a huge desert. If Bluin was completely covered with white snow, then Simar - with sand of all shades of yellow, orange and red.

But there were also large green spots. And the Valkyrie had questions about these very spots.

"These are forests, right?" she asked Dana. She stood next to her, leaning her hip on the dashboard. She was dressed in, according to her words, a white dress. Although, according to Brunnhilde, this, say, clothes could hardly be called a normal T-shirt, let alone "dress".

"Rainforests, yes,” the brown-haired woman confirmed.

"Where do they get their water to grow like that? Except those that grow near water."

"Well, there are underground waters, oases and, of course, rains."

"Rains?" the Valkyrie's eyebrows went up. "Here?"

"This planet is heated by three suns, sweetie."

"This is exactly what confuses me."

"You know about the water cycle, right?" she nodded in response. "So, then you should know that water is capable of being in three states: solid (it's ice), liquid (it's water) and gaseous (it's steam). Of course, on this planet you will find ice only in some refrigerator, but strange as it may seem, there is a lot of water in the liquid state here. Only it very quickly becomes gaseous. Remember when we flew past long crevices and craters?" another nod. "These are rivers and lakes. And until you ask another question again, no, sweetie, they're not dry. Not forever, at least. You see, three suns mean that water evaporates three times faster, so most of the time the reservoirs are in such a dry state. However, as soon as the rainy season begins, they will be re-filled, and maybe even come out of the shores, this has happened more than once. And then, sweetie, when the rains are over and the cloud stops blocking the sun, they will dry again in a couple of weeks. In three or four months the rains will pour again, the rivers and lakes will be filled with water again, and everything will be repeated again and again."

"How long is the rainy season?"

"Depends," Dana shrugged. "Basically a month or two. But in the southern regions it happens that it pours twice as long. There, reservoirs are located closer to each other, and a couple of mountain ranges also help retain moisture."

"So, maybe we shall fly a little more south?" suggested the Valkyrie. "If I understood you correctly, it will be cooler there."

"There are no airports, sweetie. Yes, it is not that hot there and there is more water, and therefore there is also more jungle. And vegetation is valued here as highly as you valued gold in Asgard. The rainforests are the lungs of the planet, sweetie. And who in their right mind would allow their lungs to be poisoned with smoke and other pollutants?"

"But what about technical progress?"

"For the Simarians, progress, and especially technical progress, only means that bad things happen faster. They put up with newcomers only because tourism brings a good income. But if you commit an act of environmental vandalism, then from a visitor you will immediately turn into a local. They will even give you a residence permit. Although the view from the prison cell is not very pleasant," said Dana. "So, sweetie, convey this message to your compatriots. Let them not pick flowers, trample on the lawns, break trees, kill animals and so on."

"I'll tell Thor,” the Valkyrie nodded.

"Sweetie, our goldilocks have already taken care of the accommodation in hotels. Do not load him with another task, otherwise he will get confused and, as a result, screw up both tasks."

"Fine, I'll do it myseld," sighed Brunnhilde. "By the way, where arethe male part of our modest team?"

"In the infirmary," Dana answered and, immediately faced with a blank look, hastened to explain. "Considering that I needed time to find a couple of summer outfits in my bag, I would not have time to give a lecture to our Sam and Dean. Therefore, I told Home Alone to replace me. I gave him the material, explained the state of affairs briefly, so there shouldn't be any problems."

However, the problem did arise. Dana really provided Bruce with material for the lecture of cultural and political content. The trouble was that this material was a handwritten abstract. Moreover, it was written clearly on a very fast hand: as if the author of the abstract had just robbed the bank and had to to get away from the chase as soon as possible. The handwriting was such that when Banner first looked at the papers, he first thought that Dana had written an abstract in her native language - Arabic. Not to mention grammar and spelling. Judging by the arrangement of punctuation marks, the woman did not arrange them at all, but, as it were, threw them on the paper from a distance, like darts at a target.

In general, only a professional decryptor could read what was written in Dana's synopsis. Well, or a pharmacist with many years of experience.

However, there was no decryptor or pharmacist on the ship, and therefore the lecture had to be turned into a practical task: Bruce broke the abstract into three equal parts, gave two to the students, and took one himself.

The practical task was already in its fourth hour. Banner managed only six pages. So-so result, especially given the fact that he was from Earth, after all, and besides, in his youth, he repeatedly copied homework and other people's synopsises. Though, the Asgardians were not doing any better.

"Are you sure whe was writing it in English?" Thor asked, probably for the twentieth time. He managed to decipher only three pages.

"The question should be asked in a different way: are you sure she was writing it?" Loki responded irritably. He, who of all those present spent the least amount of time on Earth, was doing the worst. The trickster still hasn't made it past the fourth paragraph. "A five-year-old child writes more legibly."

Bruce looked at Loki with an open sympathy.

Yeah, life on Earth is not gonna be easy for him, he thought, returning to the “decryption” of papers. Let's just hope he will never need medical attention.

The loudspeaker with the broadcasting voice of the Valkyrie came on, announcing the end of the practical task.

" Attention, people, we are going to land in ten minutes. You already know what needs to be done."

Despite the fact that it was already dinner time, it was still light on Simar and it looked like it will continue that way for a long time. It was also hot. Not even that, stuffy. The suns were shining brightly, heating the dry, cracked red earth, and not only the air was hot, but it was also very humid, which made even a five-minute walk from the ship to the airport building enough to make everyone sweat as if they had just stepped out of the steam room. However, given the local climate, this, in fact, is exactly what they did.

The only exceptions were Loki and Dana. The trickster felt relatively good, using the magic of the Frost giants to cool his own body and the air around him, and for the first time in his life he was glad (very little, of course) to have damn Jotun genes in his blood. And Dana felt great. Unlike Bluin, there was no need for her to use magic on Simar. Genetics came into play. When both your grandfather and your mother have the title of a solar deity, and when this part refers to the list of what you have inherited, you don't have to worry about high temperatures at all. Dana would feel great even taking a molten iron bath.

All in all, this woman trully was a hot stuff. What absolutely everyone now had the opportunity to make sure of.

Loki and the Valkyrie had only just now realized that going all together was not a good idea, especially considering Dana's outfit. Okay Brünnhilde, she has been friends with her for thirty years and has long been accustomed to the complete absence of shame in her friend. And the trickster has seen (and not only seen) this woman without any clothes at all, and more than once. But Thor and the rest of the Asgardians were somewhat unprepared for such a spectacle.

Everyone, absolutely everyone was looking at Dana now, and she, in response, with a bit of curiosity examined those with whom she had lived on the same ship for almost a month. Children, for whom the concept of shame had a slightly different framework that it had for adults, were watching her with interest. Young girls - with an expression of sincere shock and embarrassment. Older women were watching more likely with condemnation and discontent. But the men - young, older, even Heimdall - were just watching. And, it seemed, couldn't get enough of it.

For some reason, the last observation made Loki feel uncomfortable. However, he quickly shoved it to hell.

I was right though, thought trickster, looking at the frozen asgardians. He recalled wondering about what an impression Dana would have made if she had come to one of the receptions in the golden hall of Odin. Of course, instead of a spacious hall, an equally spacious airport acted as a platform, and now there were clearly not dancing and small talk, but fanning hands and tries to catch the breath, but the essence of this did not change too much. She really knocked everybody dead.

Loki himself could not take his eyes off of Dana. It was the first time he ever saw her in... fine, let's call this misunderstanding a dress. The white fabric contrasted beautifully with the swarthy skin, and the light pouring from the glass ceiling made her thick brown hair gleam with a golden tint. With so much light, the cat's pupils turned into slits and the woman's eyes sparkled with golden flame. All this, together with a contented and only slightly impudent smile, made Dana an even more seductive sight than she usually was.

Gold suits her, the trickster suddenly thought. He could see this woman in Asgard with greater clarity than ever. If even here, in the gray airport building, she looked so... radiant, then what a sight she would be in the palace. Golden halls, bathed in sunlight, and in the midst of all this splendor there is Dana with her shiny hair and sparkling golden eyes... Loki immediately imagined a luxurious dress on her. Made of white silk. Floor length. But not too closed. With a deep cut on the chest, almost like what she is wearing now. With gold accents. Yes, white and gold would look gorgeous on her... And jewelry. It's a must. Paired gold bracelets, a necklace or even a gold pectoral and maybe earrings. No, her ears are not pierced. Then it is better to use...

"... llo? Hello? Ear... I mean, Simar calls Loki. Hello, can you hear me?" a hand was being waved in front of the trickster's face. Banner seems to completely evrtheat his head.

Loki had to leave the "golden dreams" and return to the gray (and very stuffy) reality. Dana relocated herself closer to Valkyrie and was chatting passionately with her friend about something. Or rather, Dana was chatting, and Brunnhilde, having no other choice, was listening silently. Thor was hanging out next to one of the airport workers, who was sitting at the computer. Apparently, he started booking the rooms. Asgardians grouped (or rather crowded) thenselves and stood on the sidelines, examining the surroundings. Although the male part were rather examining Dana, which caused discontent of the overwhelming part of the female part. Heimdallr also was looking at the woman, but clearly with a different interest than the others.

The trickster made a mental note to have a word with the Guardian and turned to Bruce.

"What?" he asked discontentedly.

"Aren't you overheated?" Banner asked. "You were staring at one point for several minutes, as if you had smoked a joint of weed and was looking at the dancing pink elephants."

"What does weeds have to do with it?" asked the trickster. Dana has mentioned this weed once before. He did not understand what it was. However, he did not quite understand other things either. "And what does it have to do with the dancing elephants? And who are elephants anyway?"

"Doesn't matter," Bruce said. "Are you okay?"

The question threw Loki into a stupor. Banner (aka the Hulk, aka avenger, aka revenger) just inquired about his health? And with such sincerity... It was, to say the least, unexpected. And also, in a way... nice. Until now, only Thor was worried about his well-being, as well as his life.

"Yeah,” the trickster answered somewhat uncertainly, and then, on reflection, added: “Thank you for your concern, Dr. Banner."

"Call me Bruce," the scientist shrugged. "We are not strangers, after all."

"True."

This seemingly simple truth caught Loki by surprise. During all this time, he never seriously thought about what changes had occurred in his environment and his relationship with this very environment. He made up with Odin. Belatedly, of course, but made up. He established a relationship with his brother. He met a real Valkyrie. Of course, the drunken Brünnhilde did not somewhat correspond to the image of the elite warrior of Asgard that he and Thor had created in their imaginations during childhood, but still it was better than not meeting any Valkyrie at all. He met Dr. Banner and his alter ego (or is it the other way around?), and this time the acquaintance went well. More or less. He met Dana. And somehow they have moved from the stage of "enemies" to the stage of "love..." sex partners, so it would be more correct, and now they were moving to the stage of "friends".

Come to thunk about it, this bitchy woman is my first friend, the trickster suddenly realized. Earlier, networking with other people wasn't not only the first, but the tenth priority for him. No, making friends was Thor's thing. And since it so happened that in childhood the brothers were almost inseparable, Loki could, say, "borrow" Thor's friends, bypassing such stages as "acquaintance", "creating a relationship", "setting up a relationship", "consolidating a relationship." And with Dana he now was going through all the stages for the first time. She was not Thor's friend, but his. Of course, they were still far from the best friends, however, according to the trickster, they could well be considered just friends. Just friends who have sex on a regular basis. And I think I like this kind of friendship even more.

He looked at Banner again. Maybe he will come out to make friends with him too? Not like with Dana, of course. He just thought about having the same friendly relationship with the scientist that Thor had. It would be nice. And there, who knows, maybe it will even come out to improve relations with the avengers? Becoming all friends is not necessary, but getting rid of the animosity would be good. Especially considering that they ar about to live together on the same planet.

This was the first time Loki hadn't felt strange about a quiet life. Perhaps because it finally dawned on him that, with his current surroundings, a quiet life is a very loose concept.

"Have you had your head overheated by the suns?" Dana's voice sounded like thunder in a clear sky. "Your look is as absent as the lloks of students on the first session. Or like the students themselves on the first session."

This time, he did understand the reference. After all, students remained students everywhere: on Earth, in Asgard, in - damn in three times in a raw - Jotunheim and, most likely, in other places too.

"Anyway, I brought the sweetie up to date, so if you have any questions on the way, then ask her," the woman continued. “However, I'd rather give you a couple of tips about the jungle in person. So, remember: first, if possible, avoid hanging down vines, at one end of which there are eyes and a forked tongue; second, do not pick up the striped black and orange vines that lie on your road, because in most cases there is a tiger attached to them from the other end; and third, it is better not to go into this jungle at all. Also, do not commit any acts of environmental vandalism - what is this exactly, trickster, later ask the sweetie - unless, of course, you want to get a residence permit in one of the local prisons. What else..." the brown-haired woman thought for a second. "Oh yes! If along the way you come across a river and in this river, by some miracle, there is water, and in the water there are strange-looking logs with two eyes, then do not try to cross the river on these logs, let alone swim in this river. Do not try to approach this river at all, Dundee "the Crocodile" was not a film based on real events, so the chances of keeping both your leg and life with you will be so-so. Though, it is unlikely that you will encounter a river along the way, much less with water in it... Anyway, you got the point. And who did not, let him ask the sweetie again. Well, I have to go. Mae alsalamat!"

"Wait a minute," Bruce immediately waved his hands. "Where are you going?"

"To the city, Home Alone, where else?"

"Aren't we going together?"

"If we all go together, you all will leave me far behind,” she looked at him like an idiot. “It’s much more logical that you catch up with me on horseback, not that I catch up with you on foot, isn't it?”

"And it’s even more logical that you, too, go on horseback,” Loki said. “Moreover, considering what a gorgeous rider you are."

"Trickster, I have never sat in the saddle not because I've never wanted to. I shouldn't be allowed anywhere near the horses. And to other herbivores too, for that matter."

"Why?"

"And why are wolves are not allowed near sheep?" now Loki was looked at the same as Bruce. "Trickster, it's to you I look more or less like a person. For horses and other animals with a normal sense of smell, I am a predator.And It doesn't matter in which guise. Their eyes may claim that I am the same bipedal creature that is about to ride on them, but their noses claim that I am a predatory animal that is about to tear them apart with teeth and claws. For horses, I belong to the category of those who run away from. As soon as they smell my scent, they'll immediately start to panic. Has it been long since you last fell off a horse, trickster?"

"Are you going to walk from here to the city?" Banner looked at her with wide eyes.

"Yes, and the sooner I start, the faster I will get there. Maybe I'll be there even earlier than you."

"Isn't it dangerous? I mean, it's a desert after all..."

"You will go through the desert," Dana interrupted him. “I'll take a shortcut through the jungle."

"Yeah, because there it's not dangerous at all..." muttered the trickster. "Though, animals seem to have a stronger instinct for self-preservation, so I don't think that you will meet anyone along the way."

"Exactly,” the woman agreed. In fact, Dana was neverfrightened in forests, caves, deserts, mountains, or other dangerous places, because she knew for sure that the most terrifying thing in these places was her. Some had disagreements about that, but after meeting her, they usually agreed with this axiom very quickly and never questioned it again. "So, wait until the goldilocks finishes with the reservation of rooms, then saddle your horses and see you in Miama. Just don’t get in any trubles while I’m gone."

Chapter Text

As strong as the general dissatisfaction with the stifling heat was, it was in no way comparable to the delight that the Asgardians experienced at the sight of horses. Well, finally, there was at least something familiar they all were used to. And Brunnhilde, who hadn't ridden a horse for over a thousand years, looked like a slightly nutty child in a candy store.

Horses, the guide told them, were the main means of transportation. Yet they were somewhat different from the mounts that dwelt in Asgard. They were better adapted to high temperatures, the eyelashes were longer and fluffier to protect the eyes from the sand, and the legs were thicker to distribute the weight more evenly and not sink so much in the same sand. And they almost did not need water: these animals received all the necessary liquid from fruits, vegetables and other food.

Their only drawback was, perhaps, slowness. No, these horses could develop the same speed as their Asgardian counterparts in appearance, but they did it very reluctantly. The most they agreed to was an easy trot. When the Valkyrie for the umpteenth time tried to gallop her white beauty, it somehow turned her head towards her and stared at the rider, as if asking: "Well, are you not tired of it yet, crazy woman?"

Brunnhilde made no more attempts to ride with the breeze. After all, they were driving through the desert, where the sand was so hot that it was easy to fry eggs and bacon on it, and the suns were shining so much that the skin, it seemed, could burn even under the clothes, which, by the way, had long turned into portable oven. So, it is not surprising that the animal does not burn out with the desire to run. The Valkyrie let the horse follow everyone with a calm pace and glanced sideways at Bruce, who was struggling to learn how to ride. In the past couple of hours since the beginning of their journey, he definitely achieved success in this matter: at least the scientist was now sitting in the saddle, and not hanging from it, waving his arms.

Banner also tolerated the local climates surprisingly well. Better than most of, if you can call it that, their group. What Brunnhilde did not hesitate to ask.

"It's not my first time," Bruce said cheerfully. "A few years ago I'd lived in India for a while. There's certainly not as hot as here, but the air is very humid and heavy. You only have to go outside and just stand, as you're already wet with sweat. And in places where there is traffic... There, the air is sometimes so hot and caustic from exhaust gases it hurts you to breathe. Here in the desert, air may be hot, but drier. Probably because there's not much to evaporate."

"India..." Brunnhilde seemed to taste the name. The word was familiar to her. It seems that Dana once told her something. What was it... "Oh, I remembered! Spices and Kamasutra."

Banner coughed and nearly fell out of the saddle (for the tenth time). He was already somewhat accustomed to the vulgarity of Dana (he had little choice here), but hearing something like that from the Valkyrie was... unexpected. As if a labrador puppy just tried to rip your throat apart.

"And not only that,” Bruce said after a while. His cheeks were still slightly flushed, but now everything could be "explained" by the heat. "This is a wonderful country. Local cuisine, culture, people... When I first arrived there, it seemed to me that I was in another world. The world..."

"Of colors and tastes," the Valkyrie finished for him. Noticing the surprised look of the scientist, she smiled. "Dana told me the same thing. However, later she also said that India is gradually being turned into a dump."

"Yeah, that's true, unfortunatelly. There are certain problems with waste processing. I'm afraid on Earth the ecology is going to hell."

Hearing curses from Bruce, even those so innocent, was as strange as from hearing vulgarity from Brunnhilde.

"However, after Sakaar, our state of affairs does not look so bad anymore,” Banner continued. "By the way, how were such problems solved in Asgard?"

The Valkyrie thought about it. For the first time. Environmental issues in Asgard were never discussed. Mainly because for them there was no such word as ecology. At least during her youth. Even in those days, military affairs were always on the agenda. The same cases were in second and third places. After them, there were issues already worth their weight in gold, or rather, issues about the weight of gold and its worth. In general, environmental issues, if any, did not even make it to the top-100 of the agenda.

"Hell knows, Bruce," Brunnhilde replied honestly. "Maybe, they used some kind of magic, maybe - send all trash to some Muspelheim for burning by the help of Bifrost, I don't know. I have never been interested. My business was fight. There you need to think about simpler things, for example, a sword, armor, and so on. Think about something like ecology, and someone else's sword can pierce your armor."

"And what about the free time from the fight?" Bruce asked.

"Training fights."

"And after them?"

"Food and sleep. Well, and sometimes we arranged gatherings in taverns."

"That's all?" Banner wondered. "What about a hobby?"

"Training fights, told you already," the Valkyrie shrugged.

"And what about entertainment?"

"Taverns. And training fights, again."

"I see, you really like to fight."

"Since childhood,” she admitted. “That's why I joined the Valkyrie regiment. And then I even became its leader. We almost smashed that unfortunate establishment where my new appointment was celebrated,” a sad smile appeared on her face. “A couple of years later, Odin ordered a regiment of Valkyries to be led against Hela. This was the first campaign under my leadership. My first and only."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah. Me too."

Meanwhile, Dana had already managed to overcome the sandy-desert segment of the path and was now making her way through the jungle. It wasn’t nice, interesting, open jungle, such as leopard-skin-clad heroes might swing through on vines. No, it was serious, real jungle; jungle that towered up like solid slabs of greenness, thorned and barbed; jungle in which every representative of the vegetable kingdom had really rolled up its bark and got down to the strenuous business of outgrowing all competitors. The soil here could hardly be called soil at all, since it was rather a graveyard of plants on their way to compost-hood. Water dripped from leaf to leaf. Insects whined in the humid, spore-laden air. And there was the terrible breathless silence made by the motors of photosynthesis running flat out. Any yodeling hero who tried to swing through that lot might just as well take his chances with a bean-slicer.

The woman's mood had managed to spoil considerably. The white dress after a close acquaintance with the prickly and very catchy, in the literal sense, vegetation was far from white now and far from a dress as well (although, to be honest, that piece of fabric could not have been called a dress before). The vegetation itself grew so densely in places that Dana from time to time had to transform into a cat and squeeze through the local flora, dragging her bag in her teeth. And then she had to return to the bipedal form, because it was very inconvenient to carry a bag in a cat's form.

Too frequent transformations back and forth annoyed her the most. Each form has its own advantages. And each form lives its own life - a very dangerous trait, because all it takes is to slightly weaken the control, and this can lead to unforeseen consequences. For example, a cat instinctively jumps at anything that moves, but this reaction can hardly be called correct, since a moving object may turn out to be a thrown grenade. Not that Dana lacked some feline features in her bipedal form. Take, for example, her habit of jumping on various surfaces, an irresistible craving for dairy products, cleanliness, not to mention her character. However, human form was dominated by reason, the ability to think coldly and calculatingly before doing anything, like the same instinctive leap towards a grenade. And in animal form, instincts come first. Your body works faster than your mind.

In fact, when Dana took on a feline form, her mind was forced to fight simultaneously with two bodies: with her own - for control, and, if such appeared, with the body of the enemy - for survival. And she also needs to avoid the accumulation of negative emotions. They weaken self-control. And the control must not be weakened in any case, otherwise in the game may come the third participant, who did not feel the slightest affection for all the other participants.

Bloody jungle, the woman thought, once again changing her feline form to a human one, making her way through the dense green thickets. Bloody thorns. Bloody buzzing insects. It'd be so good to beat them all to hell. To incinerate. Burn this bloody jungle to the ground. Leave nothing alive here. Only hot earth. Scorched, dry, red, just like bl... 

Dana stopped abruptly and took several deep breaths, trying to get her feelings and thoughts under control. Considering that her consciousness over the past few hours was "spilling" from one form to another, miraculously not splashing somewhere on the floor, the woman was getting irritated with a vengeance. And irritation, when it accumulates enough (which in this situation happened very quickly), is followed by anger, which, in turn, is followed by thoughts. Horrific thoughts.

"Come on, bur-r-rn these annoying tr-r-rees, these lousy buzzing insects - tur-r-rn ever-r-rything to ashes. Leave nothing but scor-r-rched gr-r-round..."

"No, I can't do that," Dana hissed through clenched teeth. "It is not right."

"Why? Who said that? Who dar-r-res to give us or-r-rder-r-rs?"

"I," the brown-haired woman firmly declared, continuing slowly but surely to calm down the raging sea of anger. Hell, and why didn't she let off steam earlier? "Damn it, I should've kicked that log a couple of times..."

She concentratedly drove her thoughts away. They were so cruel.. Sometimes they made even Dana feel fear. Most of all, she was afraid one day to succumb to these thoughts, to cross the line separating good from evil. The woman may not have been a good person in the usual narrow sense of the word, but she knew how to distinguish good from evil. And if you distinguish good from evil, then you simply cannot choose evil. It will not work: to choose evil and continue living as if nothing had happened. Dana always tried to face the light. Always. Maybe she was standing in the gray zone, but her gaze was always fixed in the side that was lighter. But the harder you stared at the light, the more it scorches and the harsher it burned into you. And the stronger the temptation turn around to see how long, rich, strong and dark the shadow behind you had become... It gets curious, what if you give your eyes a break from the light for a while? What if you cross the line just once...

"This will be you end," Dana immediately answered herself, finally completely calming down and pulling herself together. The Great Chinese Wall of her internal control was successfully restored, and the guards who decided to skive had their asses kicked few times. "Turn away from the light and you will find yourself in pitch darkness, in which you will not see anything. Including the difference between good and evil. Because of this, everything inside you will twist. And that will be the end of you. So, be able to distinguish between good and evil, do not cross the line and always do right." 

And now the right thing to do is to stop talking to yourself and move on, she added to herself. You still have six kilometers to walk...

Thor also enjoyed riding (albeit rather slow) just like a child enjoys candy. And almost all the way he rushed from the people of Asgard to the revolutionaries and back. How the poor horse had not yet tried to throw off such a rider was still mystery number two. The mystery number one was how one single animal managed not to break its back, carrying the Korg on its back.

Loki, on the other hand, continued in front of him. On his left rode Heimdall. Considering the personality of both riders, I think it was easy to guess that in this part of their "caravan" it was quieter than in the university lecture hall, after the teacher's question: "Do you have any questions?"

Although Loki did have a question. Only, he had no idea how to ask it better...

"If you want to ask anything, then ask,” the Guardian finally broke the silence.

"Why were you looking at her like that?" the trickster decided to express everything bluntly.

"Everyone was looking at her, wasn’t they?”

Loki rolled his eyes. Heimdall began to witty. Great. What's next? The Guardian will start telling jokes? Or get drunk in a tavern and dance to obscene songs?

"Everyone was looking at her as an outlandish thing, and you - as at me after my excursion to Jotunheim. Don't tell me that she also has something to do with our family?"

"Why would you have such thoughts?"

"Hm, let me think..." Loki feigned thought. "Odin hid the truth about my birth, hid such an "insignificant" detail as the existence of his daughter - the sister of mine and Thor's, by the way - and then hid her and some moments in the history of Asgard, in which they took direct participation... I think I do have good cause for concern."

"That woman has nothing to do with Asgard, you can rest assured,” Heimdall assured him. "I have never even seen her there. It is very difficult to watch her at all."

"Is she hiding from your sight?"

"Only when I try to focus it on her. How she managed to feel this is still a mystery to me. But this is not the only point. Sometimes this woman simply disappears from the nine worlds, and sometimes I could feel two of them at the same time."

"Traveling through time and space,” Loki said. "Dana knows how to make secret paths."

"Well,” said the Guardian. "This explains a lot. But not how she hid from my eyes within the nine worlds."

"It's not that hard,” the trickster chuckled. "I have done this more than once."

"Because you knew that I can see you and can focus on you at any moment. But this woman hid only when I focused on her. She was hiding not because she knew that I could look at any moment, but because she knew that I was looking at her at that very moment,” Heimdall explained. "She seems to be able to feel my gaze on her."

"But it's impossible to feel it, only if you don’t allow it yourself. This is incredibly ancient and powerful magic, the secrets of which are unknown to anyone but the Guardians."

"And yet this woman coped with it on the first try."

"How?"

"This is what has kept me awake at my post for the past several thousand years,” the Guardian replied. “I must admit that I am grateful to the Norns that she is here. Now I have a chance to get answers to my questions."

"Glad for you,” the trickster said to him, and then remembered how he and his brother had the first contact with Dana, and, turning to Heimadll with all the sincerity possible for himself, he wished: “Good luck. And patience.  You're going to need them very much."

Chapter Text

By the time their Asgardian caravan reached its destination, everyone was eager to do two things: to have dinner and to go to bed. Well, and take a cool bath, of course. Then, when it was already late night for them, in Miama, on the other hand, none of the suns seemed to set any time soon.

"Is it getting dark here at all?" asked Bruce, not really hoping for a positive answer. Okay, heat and stuffiness, but round-the-clock lighting is too much. He is, of course, an adaptive person, but not that much.

"Yes, mar," the guide answered him. "Mar" here, as it turned out, meant about the same as on Earth - "sir". "In three hours it will start to get dark. Need help finding a city guide?"

"Aren't you... ?"

"No, Mar. I am from the "airport-city-airport" category of guides."

"And what other categories exist?" the scientist asked.

"Regional guides, inter-regional guides, city and intercity, desert guides, underground guides, underwater guides, jungle guides, market guides, cemetery guides... "

As Banner listened to the tanned man's speech, his eyes widened and his eyebrows crept higher and higher. Judging by the words of their guide, either most of the local population suffers from topographic cretinism, or the entire infrastructure of this planet is capable of giving odds not only to the labyrinth of the Minotaur, but to any English Residential area as well.

"No, we’ll probably try to figure it out first ourselves, and then we’ll see,” Bruce replied.

"Then you'd better start now. The faster you begin, the faster you finish. You could use a break from the road. Our climate is exhausting for visitors."

"We ourselves would not mind getting somewhere in the shade as soon as possible and closer to soft drinks... there are such drinks here, right?" the guide nodded. Banner - as well as everyone within earshot - breathed a sigh of relief. "But we are waiting for someone."

"Someone fell behind on the road and you didn't tell me?" the man's voice sounded worried.

"No, no, she set off on her own through the jungle."

The guide looked at him in surprise for a while, blinking slanting brown eyes, and then turned his gaze to the jungle only thirty meters away. Then he looked at Banner again, as if asking, “Are you sure? Are you sure you haven't overheated your head during the trip?"

"This jungle is full of dangerous beasts."

Bruce was about to say that it's not Dana the guide should worry about, but he was outstripped.

"Don't worry, buddy,” the Valkyrie joined in on the conversation. Something too funny. "Our friend does 't kill animals unless absolutely necessary. So, your beast will be all right."

The man once again looked at them as if they were insane, shrugged his shoulders, as if saying: “I always knew "tourists" and "idiots" were synonyms”, jumped back into the saddle and, having thrown a few words of goodbye, directed the horse towards the airport. The remaining horses immediately began to be courted by the border workers, preparing them for the transport of a batch of tourists who had already enjoyed their stay here, and now - finally - were ready to leave.

"Listen," Thor turned to the Valkyrie, "did you bring something to drink?"

"Of course I did."

"Well?"

"Well, I drank everything myself!" the woman answered in the same cheerful tone. "You should've asked earlier."

"Still, I think we shouldn't have let Dana go alone,” Banner muttered to himself. "Now we have no idea where she is and how long to wait for her. And what if she's lost?"

"Don't you dare to blurt out such a thing in front of her,” Brunnhilde told him. "Dana is never lost. From her point of view, everything else is lost."

"But the jungle is pretty vast. What if she came out on the wrong side and is now waiting for us there?"

"Bruce, the border posts here are numbered. We agreed to meet here, so Dana will be here anyway. Sooner or later."

"How much lateer?" the scientist did not calm down. "I am thirsty now too."

"Not my fault you didn’t think about taking some water with you!" came a low, displeased voice from behind them.

Everyone immediately turned towards the sound. From the side of the dense rainforest, Dana was walking towards them. She was clearly in a lousy mood. However, the appearance was completely consistent with it. The woman looked as if she had just left the battlefield, and from the side of a disastrous loser. Bare feet were all covered in sand and dust, the hands also did not shine with purity, the white fabric became multi-colored, and with much more cuts in it, some leaves, twigs and even a couple of feathers glittered in the reared and matted hair, and on the swarthy face it was written almost in plain text: "Don't even breathe in my direction."

Bruce sincerely hoped that the animals in those jungles had a good survival instinct and that the local fauna was out of sight of the woman.

"You look just disgusting, my friend!" the Valkyrie declared with a wide smile.

"And so do you," Dana answered in a low voice. "I see, the cockroaches in your head got to alcohol again. Well, let's go?"

"Don't you want to change?" suggested Thor, nodding meaningfully in the direction of what until recently, albeit with a stretch, but still could be called clothing.

"I'll change at the hotel,” the brown-haired woman muttered in response and headed into the city, silently inviting the others to follow her.

Miama was a city on the coast. Quite a big city. It had many attractions and just interesting places to visit. And there were a lot of hotels in it too. Only, they were not built just so that they would stand in case of an unexpected visit by the remnants of a whole people. Where there is a demand, there is a supply.

In short, booking rooms for more than half a thousand people at the same time on the same day was about as easy as renting an empty apartment in the capital on New Year's Eve or buying a ticket to the World Cup on the day of its holding. So Thor got out as best he could.

And right now, a group of three representatives of the people of Asgard and two representatives of the planet Earth stood silently in the hallway of a clean hotel room with faces that any poker professionals would envy.

"One job,” Loki was the first to express the general opinion, turning to his brother. It seemed to Thor that he had already heard this phrase, and with exactly the same intonation. “You had one job, brother."

"I know, of course, about this favorite cliché of all trash novels, where two people are checked into one hotel room "by mistake"," Dana said with the same unreadable face, also directing her gaze towards the unlucky "travel agent". Thor drew a long line across the stone floor with his foot - a random, pathetic movement familiar to anyone who has ever stood in front of a class, waiting for a teacher to reprimand. "But to do the same with five..."

"I would watch such a comedy," Bruce said in an absent voice. He was already so tired that he did not have the strength to get irritated or to anything else.

"Me too, Home Alone. But I have no desire to play one of the main roles in it."

"And it's a tripple room," the Valkyrie muttered under her breath.

There were two beds: one double and one single. Apparently, the room was intended for two parents and a child. Or for a couple of lovers and the "third wheel", linked with them. There was, of course, a small sofa and a couple of armchairs, but that didn't make it any easier.

"I assigned us all to rooms as best I could,” Thor said in defense. "Who could know that almost all their hotels would be full."

"You’d better assigned us all to beds,” Loki answered him. "There are two of them, and there are five of us. The numbers don't add up a bit, haven't you noticed?"

"I can sleep on the couch,” Banner volunteered. He already did not give a shit where to sleep, and even with whom. If necessary, he will fall asleep even in the bathroom, hugging the toilet. In old memories of his student years, so to speak.

"Don’t, you’ll suffer all night,” said Brunnhilde. "You take a single bed, and I will take a sofa. I am short, I will be fine there."

"So be it, I take an armchair then," Dana threw the bag, taking up her piece of furniture. "But keep in mind, in the form of a cat I sleep very lightly, so no unnecessary sounds."

Loki's face noticeably darkened - like a man who sees that all the straws have already been drawn out and there is only one left.

"That is great!" the god of thunder was delighted and put his arm around his brother's shoulders. The trickster looked at him like an official - at the required tax return. "And then my brother and I will make room on the bed."

Why, Norns, why!? Loki pleaded mentally. I understand that I behaved horribly in the past. But since then I have tried to make it better. At least in something. So could you leave me alone already?

The trickster's irritation was understandable. He was used to sleeping at a great distance from his brother. For most of their lives, they slept at opposite ends of the palace. After all those events with Hela and Ragnarok, this distance was reduced to a metal wall separating their rooms on the ship. And now they will sleep not only in the same room, but in the same bed! Moreover, this bed was not so large that it was possible to move away properly and not find yourself on the stone floor.

"I don't care if you sleep on the floor, just wash first. This concerns everyone," Dana defiantly frowned. "You smell like a men's locker room."

Bruce, remembering that unique "aroma" emanating from sweaty T-shirts and - God forbid - socks of his former classmates after physical education lessons (these lessons taught Banner to hold his breath for three minutes and to change his clothes in exactly the same amount of time), did not give a damn about fatigue and the desire to go to bed and without further ado disappeared behind the door to the bathroom. Sometimes he forgot that Dana had heightened senses. Although no, it would be more correct to say that he sometimes remembered about it. At such moments, he even felt sorry for this woman, because if keen eyesight was perhaps an advantage, then smell and hearing... No, in the wild this is definitely good, but not for "civil" life. Unpleasant odors intensify and become simply unbearable, the sounds not only become audible at much greater distances, but those that are heard nearby, surely sound awfully loud. Such senses are likely to cause continuous troubles, such as migraines and chronic lack of sleep, which, in turn, provoke increased irritability.

At this point, Banner looked at the idea of getting pets from a radically different angle. Especially in cities like New York, where the air even if it can be considered clean, then only because not a single microbe would last even two minutes there. Yeah, bringing a dog, whose scent is almost seventeen times better than a human, to a city like New York can certainly be considered an act of animal abuse.

Maybe, that's why she's always so grumpy, Bruce thought as he got rid of his sweat-soaked clothes and got into the shower. Soft cool streams of water at the moment of contact with the heated skin seemed to the scientist heavenly manna. I'd go crazy if I lived in a big city with such a set of senses.

It took two hours for everyone to properly wash off the sweat, dust and sand - and also vegetation for someone - after which all of them more or less amicably fell into bed, some on the sofa, and some on the armchair (although in the case of Dana, it would be more appropriate to say "jumped"). Thor was the only one who wished goodnight. All the rest remained silent, because they had no illusions on this score. Dana, again, remained silent also because she could not speak. In the language of people, at least.

There was silence in the room for a while. And then the ear of the cat sprawled on the armchair jerked towards the double bed.

"Damn it, Thor, can't you finally settle down! Stop spinning back and forth."

"It's not my fault that this mattress is so hard. How am I supposed to fall asleep on it?"

"With your mouth shut."

Silence again. And then:

"Damn it, Loki, your feet are so cold!"

"Get your grubby not little legs off my half of the bed, Thor."

Silence tried to reign again, but did not last even three minutes.

"Hey Banner, are you sleeping?"

Silence.

"Banner."

Silence again.

"Bruce."

And again.

"Hulk?"

Hulk didn't answer either.

"Banner."

"Banner, answer him at least something!" the Valkyrie moaned into her pillow.

"... Mmm...?" translated from the sleepy human it translated as "what?". 

"Let's change pillows? I'm uncomfortable on mine."

"Uhm... hmm... hmg..." two possible translations: "thanks, I'm fine" or "fuck you."

And there was silence again. And it didn't last for long again. Dana's ear seemed to turn in a familiar direction even a moment before Thor opened his mouth again.

"Loki?"

"... 'M?" the trickster seems to have realized that answering right away is much less stressful than following Bruce's example.

"Swap pillows with me. Mine is somehow uncomfortable for me."

"Thor, if you say another word tonight, I’ll strangle you with your “uncomfortable” pillow."

From the side of the couch came an indistinct, but definitely agreeable murmur.

And here again a minute of silence. Then the second one. Then the third. And the fourth. And soon the fifth. It seems that the long-awaited silence has finally decided to stay longer.

Yeah, like fun! flashed through the cat's brain when their room (and not only theirs) was shooked by the loud, measured snoring of Thor. After a while, it was joined by the more genteel snoring of the Valkyrie, who had spent far more time sleeping in a company with other people. And if you listened, then in this orchestra of the nasopharynx one could discern a martyr's groan, in which, if one listened even more carefully, one could hear some kind of appeal to the Norns.

Dana covered her face with her paw and growled a very rude and insulting curse in feline language.

Chapter Text

Miama 1

Miama 2

Miama 3

Miama 4

Miama 5

Miama 6

I see skies of blue and clouds of white
The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world

(What a wonderful world - Louis Armstrong)

Dana woke up with the first rays of one of the three suns. Although, "woke up" is an overstatement. After all, the fact that you woke up means that you slept in the first place. And to fall asleep in such a close proximity with four other individuals is not an easy task. Not only could Thor not settle down on, according to him, "hard mattress" and "uncomfortable pillow", but he also snored. Apart from the Hulk, Dana has not yet had to meet a nasopharynx capable of emitting such a deafening snoring that could well drown out a working sawmill.

A couple of times the woman was even visited by the idea that every time the god of thunder left Asgard and went to Earth, the palace was declared a day off, so that everyone could sleep properly.

However, most of all it was infuriated not by volume: cats are able to abstract from sounds that are not of interest to them, provided that these sounds are quite monotonous, like the same TV broadcast or someone's relentless conversations. Loud "gnh-gnh-gnh" were not so intolerant and Dana could well live with them, and with the following no less loud "bloooooorrrrt" too. But the gap between them... This lapse of silence between the rising "gnh-gnh-gnh" and the falling "bloooooorrrrt", that was what worked on the nerves. And worst of all, the pause has always been of different durations. Sometimes "bloooooorrrrt" immediately followed the "gnh-gnh-gnh", and then there was a long gap between them, and then the woman even found that she was holding her breath while waiting for "bloooooorrrrt". And sometimes there was no pause at all, and then "gnh-gnh-gnh" and "bloooooorrrrt" merged into one eight tact piece of music with a crescendo in the middle. This fickleness of pauses did not allow the cat to fully ignore this, say, background noise.

Therefore, when sunlight began to fill their room, Dana not so much woke up as just opened her eyes. Yawning widely, the cat began to stretch, and then took a sitting position and began to wash. She would also gladly do a manicure for herself, sharpening her claws on, say, the upholstery or, even better, Thor's throat, which did not give her a good night's sleep. But fortunately for all the same Thor, Dana managed to stifle this impulse in herself.

Having finished with the morning procedures, the cat began checking. She wanted to make sure everyone was asleep before transforming into her bipedal form. She did it simply: she jumped onto the bed (in our case, the sofa was the first) and touched the sleeping person's face with her paw. The Valkyrie only grimaced and rolled over on her other side with a disgruntled groan. Bruce didn't react at all. The scientist slept like a dead man, and this was despite the fact that the god of thunder did not stop snoring.

When Dana jumped on the bed to the Odinson brothers, the impulse to sharpen her claws on Thor resurrected in her soul, but instead she just poked him in the eye with a paw. In response, a deafening "gnh-gnh..." was heard, followed by a short pause, and then a long "bloooooorrrrt" was heard, ending with a loud smacking of his lips.

Is he hungry or something? thought the cat, deliberately trampling over the face of the Thor, not even trying to go around his head on the pillow.

When the turn came to Loki, Dana lingered longer. She had already somehow noted to herself that she liked his smell, somewhat vaguely reminiscent of mint, but in her current appearance she liked this smell especially strongly. The cat carefully placed one paw on the trickster, then the other, until she sat on his chest.

"Gnh-gnh-gnh..."

Just how did he manage to fall asleep? thought Dana, peering into the sleeping face of the trickster. He winced every now and then as her long mustache tickled his skin.

"Bloooooorrrrt!"

When the cat touched his cheek with a paw a couple of times, Loki decided to follow the example of the Valkyrie and rolled over on his side. Together with Dana. The animal, which did not have time to jump back in time, was pressed against the trickster's chest, like a plush toy. And the animal was clearly not happy about it.

Dana tried to squeeze into freedom, but Loki only squeezed her tighter. The cat seemed to be in the grip of a snake twisting its rings more and more with each movement of the victim. The long brown tail began pounding on the sheet with displeasure. Dana growled muffled and tried to slip out of the snake's embrace again. It didn't work: neither growl, nor attempt. However, given the fact that the trickster managed to fall asleep - and still continued to sleep - under the snoring of his brother, the cat could even yell in his ear and not get any response in return.

Well, she thought, half irritated, half doomed, I didn't want this, but...

Loki woke up because something bit him. The first thing that crossed his mind was that Thor mistook him for food in his dream. Only a few moments later the trickster suddenly realized that he was embracing something warm, soft and, as it turned out a moment later, very unhappy.

"Bitch?" Loki said sleepily, assuming a sitting position. He was in no hurry to release the animal from his embrace yet. "What are you doing here?"

In response, the trickster received only a displeased look from large yellow eyes. Which became even more displeased when Loki grabbed the cat under her front paws and lifted her to the level of his eyes, keeping the animal at a safe distance from his own face. Just in case.

"Although, perhaps, it is stupid to ask you about anything when you are in this form," he grinned, watching the displeasure on the cat's face.

Dana growled. Her tail flapped in the air with displeasure.

"You know, I even begin to like your appearance,” Loki continued, carefully examining her and enjoying the feeling of soft fur under his palms. The cat's smooth brown fur was as soft to the touch as the woman's thick hair he loved so much. Or would it be more accurate to say that her hair was as soft as cat fur? "Especially when you are not trying to turn someone's body part into mince."

"Meow," the intonation in her voice did not bode well for him.

"Fine, fine. I'll put you on the ground."

The trickster carefully lowered the animal down and looked at her expectantly. The cat looked back at him in the same way, only in her gaze one could also discern irritation.

Loki did not immediately understand what was expected of him. And when he realized, he obediently closed his eyes and turned away.

"Why are you so categorically against anyone seeing you change your guises?" asked the trickster, still keeping his eyes closed. He waited until he could be sure that the transformation was complete.

The answer came in about five seconds.

"Because."

"And if in more detail?" when hw turned around, Loki was not even surprised to find a woman standing opposite him completely without clothes. It’s a pity, the morning rays were too weak to make her body be seen properly.

"Because I want so."

Clearly not going to continue the conversation, Dana turned around and headed to the window. Trickster, without hesitation, followed her. For the next few minutes, they stood next to each other, leaning their hands against the window sill and admiring the view. And there was something to admire. Small houses were located almost close to each other, narrow streets flowed one into one, like rivers, through which, instead of bridges, numerous flights of stairs were slung, and almost the entire city was illuminated by colorful lights. In the distance you could see a deep blue sea, on the horizon of which it was possible to distinguish the vague outlines of some island. And the sky... it was beautiful. At the horizon it was pale blue, almost merging with the waters of the sea, further blue smoothly passed into soft pink, which, in turn, flowed into a subtle thin orange strip, immediately followed by a yellow, just as smoothly flowing into the already familiar pale blue, which became more and more saturated, until it acquired a deep dark blue hue. And there was not a single cloud on all this canvas.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Dana's quiet voice (so successfully given during another pause in the middle of the thundergod's snoring) made the trickster break away from the contemplation of the local landscape.

Loki looked at Dana. There was no trace of her former irritation. Her face was relaxed with a barely perceptible smile on her lips, and her eyes looked at the world outside the window with some kind of a serene delight.

The trickster caught himself thinking that he had never seen this woman so... peaceful. It seemed that she could forever stand like this and admire the dawn and not get bored for a second.

"Yes,” Loki finally replied, looking back at the landscape outside the window. "Truly beautiful."

"There are similar dawns on Earth," the brown-haired woman continued in the same soft and calm voice. "Not in all places, of course, but a lot of where. In Egypt, for example, or Greece. And in many other countries too, especially in the summer, when sometimes there is not a single cloud in the sky, as now. Although the clouds do not spoil the view, but rather on the contrary give the sky even more colors."

"It's strange to hear it from someone who usually sleeps till lunch," the trickster chuckled. "With your daily routine, I'm surprised you even know what dawn looks like."

"Some things are worth waking up for at dawn, trickster," Dana smiled back. "And some are worth even not sleeping at all."

"For example?"

"Aurora."

"Aurora?" Loki asked.

"Well, the polar glow," the woman explained, and came across the same perplexing look. "How so, trickster, have you never seen the polar glow?"

"I think it has something to do with the fact that Asgard, being almost flat, had no poles."

"Oh, trickster, it's good that you and your brother chose Norway. Maybe you'll be lucky enough to catch the aurora the first time. Though, even if you need a hundred attempts, you still won't regret it."

"Is your aurora that  beautiful?" Loki looked at her inquiringly.

"Oh, you have no ieda. In winter, when nights last almost twenty hours, when solar winds reach the north or south poles of the Earth and interact with the atmosphere, the polar glow appears in the sky. You can't even imagine, trickster, just how beautiful it is..." Dana's face has acquired a dreamy expression he has never seen before. "When colorful lights suddenly flash in the clear dark sky dotted with billions of stars. Blue, pink, green - they intertwine with each other in different patterns right in the middle of the night sky. These lights move, shimmer, glow not only in the sky, but also in reflections of frozen rivers and lakes. Even when the radiance is faint, it shimmers over your head in the most beautiful way. But if the flash in the sun was strong, the aurora shines so brightly that not only the sky, but even the snow shines with colorful overflows. Just try to imagine, trickster, standing in the middle of a vast snowy desert. All alone. In absolute silence. And the night sky is full of colorful lights glowing above your head. They shine so brightly that all the snow for hundreds of miles around you shimmers like jewels. It's so beautiful, trickster. So beautiful... Insomuch that it takes you breath away and makes tears appear in the eyes."

Loki listened to her quiet, deep voice, full of sincere admiration, and tried to imagine it. Dana described the interaction of the planet's atmosphere with solar winds as if it were not an ordinary natural phenomenon, but a real miracle. It was strange to hear so many epithets from a woman who basically showered everyone with witticisms and insults. She looked at the Yggdrasil model rather skeptically, as if the Tree of the Nine Realms was nothing special, and ordinary phenomena, like the same sunrises and auroras, fascinated her so much that the woman even lost her usual grumpiness.

Even the deafening "ghn-ghn-ghn" and "bloooooorrrrt" (and sometimes "mnyam-nom-nom"), heard from the side of the double bed, receded into the background, despite its loudness and intrusiveness.

"I never would have thought that such simple things evoke so many emotions in you,” the trickster smiled. "One may consider it a miracle to hear such pleasant words from you."

"As if I do nothing but swear or grumble all the time."

"We-e-ell", Loki drawled with an imaginary pensiveness on his face. “Actually, that’s exactly what you do. When you don't lecture my brother and me, of course. Or when you and I do not indulge in debauchery. Although no, perhaps the only exception here is lectures."

"Fuck you."

"What, right here and now?" his smile grew wider. "Not that I mind, but the melody produced by my brother tunes me into another kind of mood..."

"I think I can guess wich exactly," the woman chuckled and looked out the window again. "It's just that some things continue to fascinate me even after so many years. This universe is full of miracles, trickster. Dawns, sunsets, star rains, auroras, blooms... and that's just Earth. And yet, even so, the Christian religion emerged."

"Something tells me you are not happy about it."

"What an observant. Take a candy from the shelf."

"And how have Christians displeased you?" Loki asked. In his head immediately surfaced the image of Captain America. "Did you not arrange a couple of other commandments? Or did the list of deadly sins looked too much similar to your daily plans?"

"Bold of you to assume that I did and still do care about  what they supposedly forbid there. In general, I mostly treat religions neutrally, if they are more or less adequate. It's just that this particular religion made me at some point disillusioned with people. And I'm not talking about the wars that were later started on religious grounds, it was quite expected, as well as other excessive bigotry." Dana took a deep breath, as if she were upset. "I just couldn't understand how Christianity managed to become so popular and how so many people could believe in it. People... Just think, they live in a world where the sky is able to stain almost all colors, where one season is followed by another, where flowers turn into fruits, where in the sky shine colorful lights. And what becomes a miracle for them? Weeping statues, walks on the water and the magical transformation of this very water into wine. Lo and behold... And once people used to be fascinated simply by the fact that the sun rose or it rained! They admired the world in which they lived, admired the miracles of this world, and then suddenly they became bored. How can one possibly get bored in a world where dawn and sunset happen every day? I'm not even talking about everything that happens between these things. How can such a wonderful world in which, after all, there is a aurora, become boring?"

"I guess it's because these phenomena have ceased to be miracles for people,” Loki replied. “It's just like… like with books. When you come across a story with a twisted plot, with a riddle that haunts you, which forces you to read one page after another, forgetting about food and sleep. Each plot twist is a surprise for you, each next proposal is something new for you. And then the story comes to an end and everything falls into place. The riddle becomes unraveled. And when you read this book for the second, third time, the actions in it no longer seem unexpected, there is no longer that intrigue that did not allow you to break away from reading for a second. The same thing happened to people. They realized that rains, thunderstorms, the same polar glow are not miracles, but simply beautiful natural phenomena.They simply ceased to be riddles for people."

"Yeah, you're right," the woman agreed with him, sighing again.

"But you know that too,” the trickster continued. “You know that the dawn, the aurora and everything else are common natural phenomena. I think you had found out about this even before people did. However, you continue to call them miracles. Why?"

"Because for me they remain so. Yes, I know how and why these phenomena occur, and I know it in great detail, but miracles do not cease to be miracles just because you understand how they happen. I've seen the aurora thousands of times, trickster, and still each time it takes my breath away," Dana returned to her high spirits. "And do you know what is the most amazing thing about all these miracles?"

"Enlighten me."

"That they don't need magic. They happen on their own. Over and over and over again. For billions of years. Isn't it amazing? In this huge cold outer space, among the simply unthinkable set of practically uninhabited planets, there are planets like Earth, Bluin, Simar and others, which have atmosphere, wind, water, soil, stones and sand. There are mountains and forests, deserts and oases. There are planets, the sky of which can be clear or full of clouds and of any color. There are planets that have life!" she looked at him with the same delight with which Loki looked at the palace library when his mother took him there for the first time. “And it all happens by itself, trickster. Simply because this is how nature works. And this in itself is amazing! No gods created these planets in seven, or how many days,no gods made these planets turn around their suns every time, or the suns around these planets, it depends. No god could have created a world that would function on its own for so many years. No one would have had neither enough strength nor imagination."

And it was at that moment when, as if after reading the denouement of story, everything suddenly fell into place. Loki understood how this woman managed to be both skeptical and yet so happy because of simple dawn. He understood why she was so upset about the Hulk killing bergs. He understood why she didn't care who you are. He understood why Dana, starting to lecture about the Earth or anything else, can talk for hours on end and with such enthusiasm that any fanatic will die of envy. He understood why she always and everywhere felt like home. The truth was so simple that the first time it was hard to believe.

She is head over heels in love, Loki said to himself. And not with magic. This woman is completely and irrevocably in love with this world. She considers it beautiful, wonderful and simply amazing, although it is also full of chaos, evil, calamity, idiots, as she always says herself, and a whole bunch of flaws. And she knows it. And all the same, all of her loves all of this chaotic and imperfect world.

"Ghn... Ghn-ghn-ghn..."

This time Thor's snoring was especially loud and thus attracted attentionagain. Loki, of course, had recently been trying to make better, but now thoughts of fratricide were persistently knocking on the door of his consciousness.

"Bloooooorrrrt!"

"I'm not sure about the creation of the world," began the trickster, "however, if we stay here for a while, I will definitely have both strength and imagination, and most importantly desire to make my brother's nasopharynx stop functioning for, say, eternity."

"In me this desire did not subside all night," answered Dana. Peace, dreaminess and delight washed away. She again became a skeptical and eternally disgruntled woman, who was becoming more and more irritated with each new sound coming from the god of thunder. “What do you think of a morning walk, trickster?"

"I think it would be nice to start it with breakfast."

"Perfect," the woman grabbed the bag lying by the armchair and threw it over her shoulder. "Come on."

"Haven't you forgotten something?" the trickster called out to her immediately, looking meaningfully at her from head to toe. The sun (at least one) managed to rise high enough and it became light enough in the room to properly examine the naked figure.

Dana frowned in confusion at first, and then, following Loki's gaze, rolled her eyes in displeasure and disappeared behind the door to the bathroom where she prepared her swimsuit yesterday.

Chapter Text

Valkyrie woke up from a loud yelling from Thor, who first jumped out of bed, and then fell from it, and no less loud laughter from his brother. Bruce, despite the volume and duration of the sounds, only moaned in displeasure and covered his head with a pillow, trying his best to keep the remnants of sleep.

As it turned out, Dana kindly poured some water over the god of thunder, again, the temperature of which Loki with no less courtesy reduced to almost zero. Now these two were standing at the wall with an expression of extreme self-satisfaction and a drop (kind of large drop) of gloating on their faces, glancing now at the victim, then at each other.

These two seem to have gotten along pretty well, Brünnhilde thought doomily, looking at the trickster and her best friend. To admit, she liked these two better in a state of enmity. In fact, the regular feuds that Loki and Dana had not so long ago were a sheer blessing for the people around them. Mainly because these two were directing all their irrepressible energies, for the most part, at each other. But the thought that now this "creative couple" can unite and direct their efforts to spoil the nerves of the rest of the world was truly terrifying. Fortunately, we have Thor. So far, he perfectly plays the role of such a lightning rod. 

"It's a little early for you two to wake up," Valkyrie said in a slightly hoarse voice as she got up from the sofa. Her attention turned to Dana. "Have you already gone to the beach?"

"Not yet," answered the brown-haired woman. "What made you think so?"

Brunnhilde pointedly examined her friend's attire. Clothes - if you could call it that - did not so much cover the swarthy body as simply... existed around it. The black fabric of beach robe was not only prohibitively small, but it was still prohibitively transparent, not at all hiding a swimsuit of the same color and, thank gods, not the same level of transparency.

"Your swimsuit," said the Valkyrie and mentally added: "Which covers even more than what you put on over it."

"Pretty thing, isn't it? I've got plenty of them. Wanna me to lend a couple?" Dana grinned playfully and raised her eyebrows.

The Valkyrie pondered the proposal, which plunged the two Asgardians into a state of mild shock.

"Perhaps I will not refuse," a slight shock was replaced by a deeper shock. "It is better than swimming naked."

"Well, I wouldn't state that..." the woman held out. "Although, you're right, sweetie, people start to stare too much. So much increased attention to your own person can be rather annoying."

"You, in any form, attract increased attention to your own person,” Loki interjected into their dialogue.

"Can't do anything about this, trickster, I'm irresistible,” she waited a few seconds before turning her head to him. "Shouldn't you have started to deny it now, confirming your status as the god of lies?"

"Lies have to be at least somewhat convincing,” he shrugged and smiled charmingly. "There is no point in denying the obvious truth."

"I love your way of complimenting me, trickster."

"My pleasure, bitch."

They've gotten along too well, damn it, thought the Valkyrie, watching the new bosom friends. Just when did they get the time? Or does sex speed up the process that much? 

"So after all, where you two have already been?"

"Many where," Loki replied. "First of all, at breakfast. Well, and we arranged a little morning walk."

"And we dropped into a couple of shops along the way,” Dana added and nodded toward one of the chairs. Several wicker bags stood beside him. "There are creams and clothes that will not let you get a crispy crust and bake properly from the inside."

"Oh, that's very nice of you!" Thor said with a wide smile, instantly forgetting about the incident with involuntary washing with ice water.

"Do not flatter yourself, goldilocks, I do this only in order not to listen to your moans and whining about the burnt muzzle, arms and shoulders. Change quickly," she walked over to the bed, where Bruce was still lying. "Wake up, Home Alone, parents have returned from Paris and it's time to open the presents!"

"Mmm… fuck you."

Remember the difference between silence and a simple lack of noise? So, in the next instant it became so quiet that one could hear not only the beat of one's own heart, but even the creak of the axis around which the planet revolved.

Banner wasn't asleep anymore, no. The realization of what he had just said and, most importantly, to whom, knocked out sleepiness with one blow. Instantly. Even a few liters of ice-cold water does not wrest a person out of sleep at such a rate.

The Hulk, who has never even once leaned out of the trunk of consciousness, expressed his condolences to his alter ego and slammed the lid tighter.

The three Asgardians at once retreated a couple of steps. It was very dangerous to be around Banner now.

Bruce himself just became familiar with all the feelings that a fish thrown on land experiences. The last time he felt such a numbness... Never, damn it, has he felt such a numbness! It seemed to him that he could literally feel his hair turning gray.

"Oh?" Dana's voice sounded quite calm. But for some reason, Benner himself did not feel calmer from this. "I could expect such words from many people, but I didn't expect them from you, Home Alone."

I didn't fucking expect them myself, Bruce said to himself. The thoughts in his brain were convulsively rushing back and forth, rummaging in memory, knocking on the trunk lid, in which the Hulk locked himself like in a bunker, and regularly calling the department of creative thinking so that the local convolutions would work faster on a plan to save the situation.

"I... Um... This is..."

"The start is rather intriguing, continue."

"I, uh-uh..." the scientist continued to mumble, and before his eyes scraps of memories already began to rush: home, family, school, graduation, booze, university, booze, girl, booze, study, passed the exam, booze, failed exam, booze, study, study, study, insomnia, starvation, study, prayer, study, diploma, booze, study, study, study, insomnia, starvation, study, prayer, study, diploma, booze, study, study, study, insomnia, starvation, study, prayer, study, diploma, booze, study, study, study, insomnia, starvation, study, prayer, study, diploma and so on three more diplomas. If only something useful was recalled... "The sum of the squares of the lengths of the legs is equal to the square of the length of the hypotenuse."

"Hmm, Pythagoras…” the woman drawled thoughtfully. "Smart guy, he was. Liked to walk in sheets and for some reason did not like to shave very much."

Just when will this bloody geometry come in handy? this question was asked, perhaps, by every schoolboy.

Fortunately, another stream of different kinds of memories this time contained a couple of useful episodes. The quarrels of Mr. and Mrs. Banner, as well as Mr. Banner Jr.'s quarrels with several representatives of that part of humanity, which the scientist did not manage to understand.

"YouarerightIamwrongforgivemepleasethiswillnothappenagain,” Bruce blurted out in one breath. As far as he could judge from his - rather meager, it is worth noting - experience of communicating with women, in any incomprehensible situation, just start to apologize. This worldly wisdom has saved more relationships than all family psychologists put together.

Only him and Dana were not in a relationship. Not in close one, at least.

"Ok, then," the brown-haired woman smiled and, as if nothing had happened, turned to the others."And what are you waiting for, sweetie? Get dressed quickly. You too, goldilocks. After the Asgardian clothes, buttons shouldn't make a big challenge for you".

"Um... that," the scientist fell into a kind of stupor. "That's all?"

"Did you want something else?" Dana quirked an eyebrow.

"No!" Banner said immediately. It was precisely "something else" that he did not want at all. "I, um... I'll go and wash, perhaps. And... I'll get myself ready."

"Good idea, Home Alone," the brown-haired woman nodded towards the packages. "Yours is the one with the green kurta inside. And don't forget to put some cream on your face and hands. This also applies to the two of you. Nobody wants to follow the good old earthly tradition and get burned on the very first day of vacation, right?"

Having left the hotel room and found himself on the busy streets of the city, Bruce understood why there are so many guides of various qualifications on Simar. Miama was a real labyrinth city. Its streets twisted like snakes, starting and ending in the most unexpected places, numerous flights of stairs in such a heat seemed like a real punishment, and the alleys, attracting a casual passer-by with a saving shadow, were sometimes so narrow that one could squeeze through them even sideways with great difficulty. And more than that, in this city there were absolutely no signs. But the establishments were literally built on top of one another. Every building, then with some kind of sign and a bunch of people inside.

Banner even wondered a couple of times, where, in fact, do all these people live? Not in these same establishments, right? Although, who knows?

In general, his only reference point was Dana, who confidently walked along the winding streets as if she knew the city like the back of her hand. The scientist very much hoped that it really was so. He would not want to get lostin such heat...

"Are you sure we are heading in the right direction?" Thor asked.

"And do I give an impression of a person who is not sure about this?" Dana measured him with a displeased glance from under her brows. In the bright light of the suns, her eyes sparkled like gold dust. In the sunlight, this woman generally seemed somehow... unearthly. Divine. God like.

She is a god, though, Banner reminded himself. Until today, thinking of Dana as a goddess was problematic for him, because she was more of a walking reminder of Earth for him. Dana looked more like a human (well, sometimes like a cat) than like a goddess. But now, in the stifling heat and bright sunlight (one might say, in her "native" habitat), thanks to which not only her eyes and hair, but even her skin seemed to shine with gold, this woman looked truly god like. Maybe only half, but she is also an Egyptian deity. And this morning I said to this very deity "Fuck you"...

"Not at all," the thunder god immediately replied.

Bruce added to himself that Dana never made such an impression. Her self-confidence was absolute and unshakable. The inscription on the tombstone "ALWAYS RIGHT" would be very suitable for her. And necessarily in capital letters.

"Then don't ask me questions like that any more."

Banner understood that he was too fixated on Dana, and he should have turned his attention to an unfamiliar city, which, in turn, is on an unfamiliar planet - he has been in space for more than a month, goddamn it! - however, he could not help himself. Especially after what happened this morning. He got off too easily...

Doesn't look like her, Bruce continued his reflections. I mean, she couldn't forgive me so easily, could she? No, I, of course, did not get too from her like Thor or Loki, but this is only because I wasn't a troublemaker. It was hard to be one, when most of the time you were sitting in the trunk of your own consciousness... However, everything happens for the first time, right? What if she's going to take revenge? Though, why "if"? She definitely won't leave it that easy! Shit... And who was pulling my tongue?

From some of the memories that were still lying in complete disarray after the morning assault, suddenly came out Steve Rogers with his brand "Language!". Suits Banner's thought perfectly.

Bruce unwittingly began to indulge in dreams again. He dreamed mainly of returning to Earth. He could see them all landing on the outskirts of New York (because it was impossible to find a parking lot in the centre), could see himself filling his lungs with the cleanest New York air (the air of New York really was one of the cleanest in the world: no germ could survive in it even for two minutes), could see himself going out on crowded city streets, where he is being shoved and shoved by passers-by who also are stepping on his shoes, where some brochures are steamed, and all this is accompanied by the incessant hum of people, cars and flying suits, which Stark sometimes lets out "to ventilate".

Banner's eyes even began to water from such feelings. How he wanted to come back to Earth, back to his friends, back to Natasha...

Although, he returned to his friends, in some degree. Thor is his friend, right? And the Valkyrie, it seems, too. And with Loki, they kind of became friends or at least almost-friends. Dana... After this morning, it was still difficult for him to define it. However, given that before they sometimes had conversations and that she saved him from freezing to death, he would risk making the assumption that they are in a rather warm relationship. One could even call it friendly.

Once again, the Avengers team emerged from the memories. That is with whom he absolutely certainly had friendly relations. Especially with Tony, who was perhaps the only person with whom you could communicate in a scientific language. Although Stark himself preferred to use the language of sarcasm.

Thoughts turned back to Dana. This woman's sarcasm, it seems, was completely hammered into the genetic code. Together with self-confidence and shamelessness.

However, Tony also did not suffer from modesty, and he did not have such an atavism as shame, even more so. In addition, he seemed incapable of remembering and calling people by name, preferring to give everyone and everyone different nicknames.

Just like this woman.

I'm not sure about the others, but Dana will definitely find a common language with Stark. And most likely, Steve will complain about this very language repeatedly, Bruce thought with absolute certainty. He already imagined how the acquaintance of these two would go. It's going to be an endless stream of sarcasm, flirting - although for this Tony, most likely, will get his iron ass beaten by Pepper - vulgarity and nicknames. Especially nicknames.

After this "comparative analysis", Banner wanted to return to Earth with a vengeance. If only for the sake of introducing Dana and Tony. This is, perhaps, the first thing he will do upon arrival in New York. He really wanted to know what nicknames these two would come up with for each other...

"We are here," Dana's pleased voice made the scientist leave the world of sweet dreams and return to the world of incredible heat. "Well well. This is the first time I've seen such a white beach on this planet."

Bruce looked around. His jaw dropped slightly.

"Damn, it's beautiful..." he babbled enthusiastically.

It was a landscape of predominantly two colors: white and blue. No, the sea was more turquoise. And also very calm and crystal clear. And small rocks, stones and sand underfoot were white as chalk. And also hot, like a hot frying pan. However, the biggest attraction in his eyes was acquired by the large umbrellas placed all over the beach. And under these umbrellas there was a blissful, saving...

"Shadow!" his former physical education teachers would have hung themselves on the ropes because of happiness if they saw the speed with which the eternal truant of this holy object rushed towards the nearest free umbrella.

"Is there a bar here?" the Valkyrie asked aloud, following the scientist, but at a more relaxed pace.

"Yes, over there,"Dana pointed her fingers somewhere to the side. "Just don't drink too much, sweetie. In such a heat, you will be wasted after two bottles."

"Great, just what I need!" Brunnhilde immediately turned around and with a smile from ear to ear headed in the direction indicated earlier. "Thor, would you like to join?" there was no answer. "Thor? He was just here. Where did he go?"

Loki silently pointed his fingers towards the sea. The sought-after god of thunder was heading towards the azure water, throwing off his clothes on the way, with a brisk step. As soon as the shoes disappeared from his feet, the quick step was immediately replaced by a very fast run, because under the hot rays of three suns, the sand under the already bare feet of the thunder god warmed up to about eighty degrees.

"Whatever," summed up the Valkyrie and again turned her gaze (and toes) towards the bar. "Well, let me know when it's time to go back to the hotel. Bye!"

Left alone (not counting, of course, a couple of hundreds of other people on the beach), Loki and Dana first looked at each other, then turned their gaze towards Bruce, hugging a beach umbrella, like a freshman after a student initiation ceremony hugs the toilet. Then they looked at Thor, who was splashing in the water like the same freshmen splashes in the fountain during the same initiation ceremony. Then on the Valkyrie, rapidly moving away to the bar (like you know who to the same destination before the student initiation ceremony). And then again at each other.

"What do you think,” began the trickster, “if we run off to a secluded place now, will they notice?"

"Even if they do, I don’t think it will affect them in any way,” the woman replied and continued in now a playful manner. "And why should you and I run off to some secluded place?"

"So that we can properly... rest."

"Rest?" a sly smile appeared on Dana's face.

"Rest,” Loki's hand wrapped very eloquently around her waist. "After I get you very tired, bitch."

"We'll see who's gonna tire whom, trickster."

Chapter Text

Over and over, I look in your eyes
You were all I desire
You have captured me
I want to hold you
I want to be close to you
I never want to let go

(Whitney Houston, Enrique Iglesias — «Could I Have This Kiss Forever»)

There were no police on Simar. The closest to this concept were people involved in environmental protection called the Green Guards. Perhaps to someone such a state of things would seem problematic (especially if this someone was a tourist whose wallet had just been stolen), but Dana found this a positive moment. At least for now. If there were police patrols on this planet, then her and Loki would have received a fine for sex in a public place long ago. Rather, four fines.

"Did you remember something funny?" asked trickster, noticing the raised corners of her lips. His hand, which had previously lazily traced patterns on her belly, froze just below the ribs.

They were lying on the hot white sand a few hundreds meters away from the public beach. Their clothes were lying nearby, along with the woman's bag. Dana stretched out on the sand with a relaxed face expression, stretching her arms up above her head and bending one leg at the knee. Loki lyied on his side almost close to her, resting his head on his hand, and looking at the brown-haired woman from above.

"Yeah," she turned her head towards him. "Had some thoughts about administrative offenses."

"Oh, really?" trickster's free hand resumed its previous occupation, immediately feeling the abdominal muscles contract under the touch. "Why?"

"Don't know," she said and smiled contentedly, feeling his cool hand that was caressing her moving lower. "Maybe because this is what we were doing for the last... how long have we been "resting" here?"

"Not long enough,” Loki replied and smiled too, hearing a soft low moan as he brushed her clit with his thumb and inserted three fingers inside her. "So, on Earth, sex on the beach is an administrative offense?"

"Hmmm... "Sex on the beach" is the name of the cocktail, trickster," Dana's body immediately arched, reacting and adjusting to the slow movements of man's hand. She really liked his hands. Especially those long dexterous fingers. "But an administrative offense as well. If you get caught, of course."

"In that case," he leaned forward a little, almost looming over the woman, "it's good we are not on Earth."

"Yet," she streached her hand to Loki's face, covering his cool cheek with her hot palm. He immediately pressed closer to her, closing his eyes for a couple of moments.

I see, you like tenderness no less than roughness, Dana mentally made a note to herself to be gentle with him. From time to time. Carry on this way, and he will probably start purring.

She stroked his thin lips with her thumb. Lightly, almost imperceptibly. Then she slowly rushed her hot hand up his cheek, tracing a sharp cheekbone along the way, while carefully watching his face. Loki was literally melting under her touch. And when her fingers buried themselves in his black hair, slightly scrapping the scalp with her nails, trickster's face took on an expression of such pleasure, that woman for a while thought that a little more - and he really will purr like a cat.

Loki did not begin to purr, though. However, he managed to extract another long, deep moan from Dana by suddenly curling his fingers inside her. Her reaction made a cocky smirk appear on his face. Fumbling through the tangled strands of the trickster a little more, the woman pressed down on the back of his head, pulling him towards her for a deep, wet, lingering kiss. They kissed almost lazily, none of them trying to take a dominant position unlike they usually did. They both just surrendered to the pleasure of the process, intertwining their tongues in a slow erotic dance.

Loki changed the pace of his fingers' movements, making the thrusts quicker. Which, in turn, made Dana moan into his mouth more often. The woman was meandering on the sand, meeting the movements of his hand, encouraging him not to stop. Dana felt good. Four previous orgasms and the heat of three local suns made her relaxed and even lazy, and she liked it. The woman also liked another tongue in her mouth that was intertwining with her own. And the soft strands of black hair in her fist also felt good. The sand under her bare back was hot, although a bit rough, but she liked that as well. But most of all in this very moment, she liked those skillful fingers each thrust of which was bringing her closer to the edge. Her orgasm numer five was almost there. Almost there. Just a little more and...

Dana moaned in displeasure through the kiss as the nimble fingers left her body, and spread her legs a little wider so that the trickster could rest her knee between them. Now he completely hung over her, blocking the suns' rays with his body. Continuing to fiddle with his hair with one hand, the woman put her other arm around his back, slowly moving her palm up and down, stroking the cool pale skin.

They broke away from each other for a while to finally get a good breath. Many people find it difficult to maintain long-term eye contact with another person. However, neither Dana nor Loki obviously belonged to these "many". They always looked into each other's eyes, even from the very first meeting, and never experienced any discomfort or desire to look away. On the contrary, the longer these two maintained eye contact, the more difficult it seemed for them to break it. Whether it was a reluctance to "give up" first or something else, none of them knew. Though, it would be a lie to say it bothered them. Especially at the moment.

Both of their eyes were now almost completely black. Of their irises, only four thin rims remain: two crystal blue and two golden yellow.

Dana felt something cool and wet touch her face. Slightly squinting her eyes in that direction, she found Loki's hand lightly stroking her cheek. Three fingers were still glistening with wetness from their past activities. Leaving alone the already pretty tangled black hair, the woman covered his palm with her own and, once again setting an eye-to-eye gaze, directed the trickster's fingers to her lips and began to leisurely clean out each of them with her hot rough tongue. She saw the trickster suddenly becoming out of his breath and it made her grin in a cheeky way.

"And where did you get this "licking fingers" habit of yours?" Loki said hoarsely, bewitchedly looking at the sight already familiar to him.

"Last time you did not have any objections on this account, trickster," the brown-haired woman grinned again, having finished the work.

"I do not have any objections this time either," he lightly stroked her lower lip with his thumb. "I didn’t say the habit was bad. On the contrary, I find it very good." 

"I bet you do..."

They kissed again. This time on the initiative of Loki. Dana felt her hand, which she covered the trickster's arm with, being intercepted and pressed against the hot sand next to her head. The woman pressed down on her partner's back, pulling him closer to her, forcing him to practically lie on her. The thin leg, previously bent at the knee, smoothly slid up until it was behind the trickster's back, pressing him even closer.

Loki was a good kisser. And considering that the assessment came from a woman with truly incredible experience in this area, “good” could be safely replaced with “excellent” and not be mistaken. He had thin soft lips that she really loved to bite, and a slightly cool tongue that could compete with her own. They kissed slowly and with pleasure, without haste and without trying to gain the upper hand over each other, one might even say lazily, both relaxed by the Simar heat and hot suns. And it was maddeningly pleasant.

At some point, Dana even wanted this kiss to last forever. A very romantic, and therefore completely uncharacteristic thought for her. Fortunately, it immediately disappeared along with the others, as soon as Loki, without breaking up from her lips for a moment, entered her in one smooth thrust, tightening the grip on her hand that he had pressed to the sand.

Dana's mouth opened, releasing a loud exhale. The trickster rushed to take advantage of it, immediately deepening the kiss, making it less lazy and more passionate. He began to move. Slowly. Progressively. Deeply. Pressing her body into the hot sand with every thrust.

Feels so good... this was the only more or less holistic thought that managed to get to the surface from the depths of woman's thoughts.

They had to break the kiss so as not to suffocate. A thin thread of saliva stretched from their lips, bursting at the moment when Dana leaned her head forward a little to run the tip of her nose over her pale cool cheek, lightly grabbing the skin near the cheekbone with her teeth and immediately licking the bite with her rough tongue. She closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling noisily, enjoying Loki's scent. And her own as well. After all that they had been doing here for the last couple of hours, they smelled not only of themselves, but of each other too. 

"You smell like me," she whispered in his ear. Her hand, the one not pressed to the sand, gripped his shoulder, digging her nails into pale skin.

Loki lowered his head, burying his face in the crook of her neck. Dana heard him inhale and then felt cool tongue on her skin. Trickster made a wet stripe from the jugular cavity to her pulse point and left a long kiss there, sucking in delicate skin. It made the woman exhale loudly and clench around his cock. She felt him tightering the grip on her hand and releasing some low noise.

"I don't have the same sense of smell as you, but judging by the way your skin tastes..." the trickster left another kiss, this time behind her ear, "I assume the smell is good," one more kiss - on the cheek. "Very good."

"It is, trickster," Dana answered and gave him a sly look. "But do you know what's even better?"

"I guess I do," Loki smirked and captured her mouth in another long, wet kiss. "Kisses feel much better."

"Mmm... right you are," the brown-haired woman slowly liked her swollen red lips, continuing to look at him with dark lustful eyes. "And so does this."

With that, she pressed her leg harder on the trickster's back, encouraging him to thrust deeper, and then tensed her inner muscles, tightening around his cock. The sound it made Loki make was very similar to Dana's growling. And it sent pleasurable shivers down her spine.

"Damn you, bitch..." Loki's voice was low and harsh and full of lust and desire. His thrusts became faster and much rougher, and he could tell from the expression of the woman's face that she had absolutely no objections about this. On the contrary, actually, she seemed as content as a cat that got the cream. "You really like it rough, don't you?"

"Don't tell me you got that point just now, trickster," Dana replied in a deep, moaning voice with the same smug and lascivious look in her eyes. With the hand gripping his shoulder, she pushed Loki towards herself and involved him in an insistent open-mouthed kiss. Her nails digged further into his skin and her teeth immediately bit his bottom lip to blood. The woman felt him moaning into the kiss and bit him again, only this time she licked the wound with her tongue. "And we both know you like it too."

"Can't remember ever telling you I like when you bite me," he gave her sharp look and licked the remainders of blood on his lips.

"You just did," she grinned. Loki grinned back at her. And then he bit her shoulder. Not to blood, but painful enough. "Damn it!"

"Exactly."

"Fuck you, trickster."

"I'm afraid I can't do it right now, I'm too busy fucking you, bitch," his smirk only grew wider. 

"You're too busy talking."

"Just like you."

"Then, trickster, maybe you should finally make me forget how to articulate my words?" the woman looked at him with a challenge.

"With pleasure, bitch."

Loki released her hand he's been pressing into the sand, but only in order to take her another one off his shoulder and then grip both her hands, placing them above her head. His free hand ran down female body and stopped on the swarthy leg that was resting on his lower back. Trickster took it under the knee and put it higher, almost up to his shoulder, changing the angle. Dana made a low moan. The thrusts became deeper and harder. And it felt damn good. The woman arched her back, pressing closer to Loki, and moved her hips to meet his thrusts, her eyes never leaving his face. She liked that expression of lust and bliss that, she knew for sure, matched the expression of her own. And she liked those heavy breaths and low moans that were escaping from his parted lips. And his eyes. Loki was one of a few (very, very few) her partners who she had that kind of a contact with. He always met her gaze and held it, never averting the eyes. Even now, when for many it is more comfortable to close their eyes in bliss, he was looking at her with dark eyes full of the same feelings as hers. And Dana enjoyed it almost as much as she enjoyed the sex itself.

They only broke the eye-contact when both reached their orgasm. With fast and abrupt movements, it didn't take them much time to come there, finally closing their eyes and catching the air with their mouths open. Dana's hands were free now, but she didn't move them, feeling too relaxed to do any moves. Even to try to move Loki. Trickster was lying on top of her, breathing heavily into her neck (pretty bruised neck, by the way, thanks to the same trickster).

It took them about three minutes to come back to norm. And two more minutes to get bored of this norm again.

"So," began Dana. "Are you ready for the round six?"

The question was unnecessary, though. She could feel the answer. She could also feel the trickster smirking against the skin of her neck, and then the woman felt him scoop her in the arms and roll over onto his back, seating her on top of him.

Well, this is something new, she thought, looking with a bit of bewilderment at the man lying under her. Cool palms firmly, but at the same time, gently held her just below the waist, and Loki himself looked at her with a satisfied smile.

"Usually, you have to be put on the shoulder blades by force,” Dana bent forward a little, resting both hands on his torso. "Not that you resist it much, but still."

"I just really like the view when you ride me," answered the trickster, smoothly sliding his hands over the hot body up to the pert and full breasts. "Especially at the moment."

"When the sunlight blinds my eyes, and not yours?" she grinned and, not taking her eyes off him, slowly lowered herself on his cock, forcing them both to breathe noisily.

"When the sunlight makes your pupils narrow and your eyes seem to glow like a golden flame from within,” Loki removed one hand from her and used it as a support to take a reclining position. The second hand stopped caressing the woman's breast and rose higher. Outlined the contour of the collarbone with her finger. Brushed the shoulder, admiring the bite mark and shaking off the white grains of sand adhering to the skin. “When your skin looks like it’s doused with honey,” cool fingers slid up her neck, outlined the jaw line and removed the soft strand from the swarthy face. “When the sunlight makes your beautiful hair shimmer with a golden sheen,” he put his hand to her cheek and ran his thumb over her parted lips. "And when your sharp teeth don't try to bleed me."

Loki managed to withdraw his hand literally a second before Dana tried to bite his finger. The shadow of discontent that ran across her face clearly amused him.

"And where did you get this "scattering in compliments" habbit of yours?" she asked the trickster in the same manner as he had recently.

"You said it yourself that compliments during sex do not count."

"Yes, but usually, compliments during sex boil down to “you are amazing”, “you are beautiful”, “oh good” and so on and so forth. And your speeches can be used instead of sugar. Where this sudden parade of flattery came from, trickster?"

"And where this sudden parade of worry came from, bitch?"  Loki asked with a smug smile. "You are not supposed to have any problems accepting compliments. How high is your self-esteem again?"

"Don't worry, it is unlikely to ever outgrow yours," Dana replied and squeezed her inner muscles a little tighter, forcing the trickster to curse through his teeth. "And there is no worry. I just don't want such impulses to suddenly turn out to be not love for eloquence, but love for their very addressee."

"Why are you so afraid of love...?"

"I am not," she said sharply. "I consider you my friend, trickster, and I want you to remain so in the future. Remember, you once hinted that there is no one else on the list of my friends besides the sweetie?" he nodded silently, recalling one of the kitchen conversations. The woman continued, but with traces of sadness in her eyes and voice. "You were right. Partially, but still right. So, I value friendship especially highly, including friendship with you, trickster. And I don’t want it to end because of some stupid falling in love, moreover end so early..."

Dana was about to add something else, but the second tongue in her mouth prevented her from doing so. She began kissing back even before her mind had time to comprehend what had happened. Loki hugged her close to him, wrapping his arm around her back and making her swarthy skin goose bumps from the contrast of temperatures.

Tearing himself away from her lips, he pressed his forehead against hers. One hand was still on the back of the woman's head, fisting soft golden-brown hair, preventing her from pulling away.

"Nice to hear that you value me, bitch,” the trickster said hoarsely. There was just an incredibly pleased smile on his face. "Frankly, I did not expect such words from you, um... never."

"I said I value friendship, not you, trickster. You got me wrong."

"Friendship with me. So I got you right."

"I said that during sex, so it doesn't count," Dana continued to insist. If she only knew which part of her speech this trickster would be fixated on, she wouldn't have said a single word to him. Now, in order to hit the ground from the height of his self-esteem, you'll need to fall for a couple of minutes longer.

"Of course, whatever you say," his smile became even more smug and self-satisfied. "We can continue to argue about this, but not now. I made an oath to you, you bitchy woman, and I swore on the memory of my mother. And I do not intend to tarnish it. Besides, the romantic who, perhaps, once lived in me, has already been dead for a long time, has had it burial service and has burned in the funeral canoe. His place was taken by a notorious cynic and egoist, who, just like you, does not intend to lose the mutual advantages of mostly-friendly relations with you. Well, and as for compliments..." Loki's hand moved from the back of her head to the woman's cheek. The thumb began to gently stroke the cheekbone, "just as you said today, I can't do anything with it, bitch, you are irresistible. Especially in the sunlight which makes you all shine, like gold that suits you so well. Such a beautiful sight... And I have a craving for beauty."

Dana listened silently to his words. Yes, this trickster was definitely different from most of the men with whom she had relations of an intimate and depraved nature. She also heard more than enough compliments in her address. Men are generally very romantic when they want sex or make amends. Some of these compliments were sincere, some were just flattery, but they all had one goal - to drag the woman into bed. Well, or sometimes to the kitchen, if hunger turned out to be stronger than lust. Loki did not need to look for ways to drag her anywhere: they already had an established sexual relationship. But he still continued to shower her with compliments, and this despite the fact that he is well aware of the "features" of her character.

And these compliments did not seem flattering at all, despite what the brown-haired woman had compared them with earlier.

"In that case, I wonder how you managed to get attracted to Sakaar,” she finally answered. "Especially to the Grandmaster."

"Do you really want to talk about that?" Loki arched an eyebrow. "I really want to enjoy the way you ride me, so bewitchingly gorgeous in the sunlight," he brought his face to her ear and whispered hoarsely: "But the longer you hesitate, the more I want to put you back on your shoulder blades, press you hard into the sand and fuck you until you forget how to speak properly again."

It would be a lie to say that Dana was at least somewhat against the second scenario. She really liked it when Loki was harsh with her. It felt good to have his hard body pressed against hers, to feel his strong arms, to compete with his tongue and to see that dark look in his eyes. But, she still liked being on top more. Therefore, she pressed both hands on the his shoulders, forcing trickster to completely lie down on the sand that had cooled under him, and with a grin on her lips swollen from kisses, she began to move her hips. Slowly and smoothly, reveling in sincere admiration in her friend's eyes darkened with excitement and pure admiration.

And for the second time today Dana had a thought that she would not mind this moment to last forever.

Bruce was sitting on a high lounger in the shade of an umbrella, drinking a once cold, but quickly became warm drink and was looking at the crystal-clear turquoise water of the sea, where Thor and a drunken Brunhilde had not got out of for several hours. Both splashed and frolicked like children. Banner would have joined them, except that his feet were still burned after his first attempt to run to the water, and it was not comfortable to swim in shoes. Besides, just lying and breathing the sea air, albeit quite hot and humid, was also good.

Only, he was somewhat bothered by the prolonged absence of Dana and Loki. He tried to look for them with his eyes among the beach crowd, but he could not find them. They were not in the crowd of swimmers either. Although it should be noted that the crowd of swimmers quickly turned into a small group of swimmers after the thunder god and the Valkyrie appeared in the water. No one liked to get seawater in the eyes from time to time or the occasional "light" blow.

On the one hand, the absence of Dana was a positive moment, because after the morning incident, Bruce felt nervous and somewhat wary in her presence. He could hardly believe that he could get away with just an apology. She will take revenge on him, he had no doubt in that. The only questions were when and how.

On the other hand, Dana was the only one who knew the way back to the hotel. Well, okay, Loki, perhaps, also remembered the road, but he was not there either.

They couldn't just leave us here, could they? the suspicious thought that crept into the scientist's head has haunted him for quite some time. And what if this is such a way of hers to avenge what happened in the morning? No, if she has to take revenge for the morning, then only on me. And abandoning affects not just me, but Thor and the Valkyrie as well. No, this can hardly be Dana's way of having the revenge... And if it is, then it's a very unfair one.

In an attempt to distract himself, Bruce again turned his gaze to the calm (where there were no two Asgardians, of course) water surface. The landscape was generally very beautiful, despite the large number of people. The sky was bright and absolutely cloudless, the rocky-sandy shore, as if bleached by the sun, was clean, without a single candy wrapper, cigarette butt or any other garbage. The sea was also clean and calm. The water must have been warm, like steamed milk, and swimming in one would be a pleasure (if you manage to get there wth your feet safe and sound). Even for a second, Banner wanted to try again to run on the hot white sand to join those few calmly swimming people, Thor with Brunnhilde that were splashing like children in the water park, and those several dark triangles approaching them...

Wait, what? Bruce rubbed his eyes and stared in the same direction again. Three objects of a triangular shape were indeed swimming up to his friends and looked too much like... Could it... Could it be sharks? Are there sharks on this planet? Although, to hell with the planet, are there sharks on this beach?! 

Bruce looked around and rummaged through his memories. There were no warning signs on the beach, he was sure. And on the way here he did not notice anything like it either. Maybe it's just some harmless fishes with shark-like fins?

Someone, who emerged closest to Thor and Brunnhilde, saw the triangles and, screaming so loudly that could be heard even through the rumble of sunbathers on the shore, began to actively row towards the shallow water.

Nope, definitely not some harmless fishes.

The example of the screaming person was immediately followed by all the others who were in the water. All but two. I think it's not difficult to guess who those two were.

Bruce could only watch helplessly from the shore as one of the fins dives under the water, and then the Valkyrie's head disappears in the same place. The scientist watched in horror as the turquoise water turned red. Thor soon sank headlong into the water too.

They can't just die like this, Bruce thought. I can understand the death from the enemy's hand, but not from a pair of shark jaws!

Only, it turned out that Banner was worried about the wrong beings here.

After some time, the Valkyrie's head appeared again, and Brunnhilde herself began vigorously bludgeoning someone underwater. Judging by the tip of the tail that could be seen from time to time, this someone was that unfortunate shark who decided to eat an Asgardian. Thor, also emerging from the reddened water, pounded another shark with what he first came across - that is, the third shark. Poor thing just didn't manage to swim away fast enough.

Well, and Bruce... He had no other choice but to sit silently on the shore. His mind was mostly empty. He has heard many stories about shark attacks on people, but vice versa... He couldn't help but ask himself a question: is a person attack on shark considered an act of environmental vandalism?

Chapter Text

About fifteen minutes after a Valkyrie limping on one leg and Thor smiling in all thirty-two teeth and dragging a shark (either dead or intelligently decided not to move) got out of the sea, a group of people in white and green clothing (which was clearly not intended for swimming) appeared on the beach. "Greenpeace", as Bruce named them to himself, began to look around, and when their gaze caught on the shark carcass, on which the utterly pleased thunder god was sitting, they walked in unison towards them. And something told Banner that this was not done because of the desire to be photographed against the background of a hefty (and smelly, it should be noted) fish.

"Mar?" one of the Greenpeace employees turned to Thor. "Is this your doing?"

"Are you talking about fish?" he clarified and, having received a nod in agreement, broke into a smile again. "Yes, that's me. No need to thank me!"

Idiot...  Bruce said to himself, clutching his head. Didn't his friend realize that they had come to him not with thanks, but quite the opposite?

"Hey!" Brunnhilde was indignant. "I got one too! I just didn’t take it to the shore with me."

One more...

"In that case, mar, mara, we have to ask you to go with us to draw up the protocol,” the man said in an even voice.

"What?" the Valkyrie looked at him in bewilderment.

"What protocol?" Thor joined her in that.

"You are accused of committing an act of environmental vandalism, namely the deliberate murder of a rare representative of the marine fauna, specifically a pearl shark. Article 92 of the Simar Code of Environmental Crimes,” he reported in the same even voice. "Please, follow us to the nearest station of the Green Guard to read you your rights and testify."

"Wait, are we under arrest?" asked the god of thunder.

"Yes, mar."

"Why?"

"As already mentioned, you are accused of committing an act of environmental vandal..."

"Hold on, dude, you want to put the two of us behind bars because we whacked a couple of fish?" the face of the Valkyrie twisted with indignation.

"Pearl sharks are our national treasure,” the green guardian replied.

"Your national treasure almost bit off my friend's royal manhood!" exclaimed Brunnhilde. "And my leg to boot!"

She waved a damaged limb as proof and immediately curled up with discomfort.

"I'm sorry, mara, but this fact does not exempt you from respon..."

"Dammit, you cannot be left unattended for a second!" a displeased low voice sounded. And then it began: "Ew, what the stench ... fuck! Why the heck you got that fish here, you fucking breadwinner?! And you, sweetie, where the hell were you looking? Or the local booze turned out to be spoilt and you went blind? What part of the phrase “no environmental vandalism” was not clear to you? Did I explain in the wrong language or what? You both are more than a thousand years old, but have as much brains as a herring has! Although no, you are more like Winnie the Pooh - no brains, only sawdust! And there are not many of those. And what are you starring at, agents of Greta Thunberg? Soon it'll be your turn, don’t worry..."

Bruce was one of only two beings in this universe who was genuinely happy to see (and even hear) an angry Dana. The second creature on this short list was now on the woman's right hand and looked obscenely pleased. Looking at the couple a little more closely, Banner realized why: judging by the eloquent marks and the level of shaggy, these two were clearly not sunbathing on the sand. Not only, at least.

The scientist suddenly realized that instead of paying attention to the conversation between Dana, Thor, Brunnhilde and the local alternative to Greenpeace, he instead paid attention to the woman herself, from whom he had shied away from the very morning. Now, when her discontent was not directed at him, Bruce felt calmer and again began to see in Dana not a semi-divine essence, but just a woman. A very sexy woman in a very open outfit.

Intellectually, Banner understood that staring at his friend like that (they had already passed the "acquaintance" stage, right?) was not the best idea, but the male... that is, the man's nature took its toll. Yes, he still had warm, even ardent feelings for Natasha, but love, even if it is indeed blind, does not make people blind as well.

It is absolutely normal, while loving one, to also find other women beautiful and attractive, the scientist repeated to himself, glancing down at the tight and uncovered female legs. In the sunlight, the swarthy skin took on a slightly noticeable golden tone, and there were dark marks on the rounded hips, the origin of which Bruce tried with all his might not to think about. Looking up the curve of her waist to the beautiful breasts, noticing several more similar marks along the way, Banner involuntarily swallowed. He couldn't help himself. And many others who were on the beach, too, as noted by Bruce. Dana had some inexplicable sexual appeal, attracting attention to herself by her mere presence. And it is not even because she was argueing now with these green guys like a native Italian. Although, probably it also plays a role here...

Banner was already starting to look up her breast to the collarbones and neck, when suddenly he distinctly felt a chill running down his spine. And this is considering such a heat! Distracted from looking at Dana, he immediately met Loki's gaze, who was standing next to her. Previously happy as a schoolboy going out on summer vacation, the trickster now looked like the same schoolboy, but who has now been dragged onto the school in honor of September 1st. It wasn't that Loki was looking at the scientist with hostility, but rather as if he wanted Bruce to be somewhere else. On a neighboring planet, for example.

The scientist has already met with such a look. At school, when he tried to roll the answer from his deskmate. He then blocked his notebook with his hand and looked at Bruce, as if saying: “It's mine. I'm not giving it. Try your luck elsewhere." Only unlike the school incident, this situation was not entirely clear to him.

And why is he so pissed off? thought Banner, every now and then casting glances at the somehow gloomy Loki, who was almost blocking Dana with himself. The woman continued to conduct a lively "conversation" with representatives of the Green Guard. I mean, it wasn't him who I was staring at, but Da... Oh.

The sudden hunch struck Bruce as shocking at first and then absurd. The shock was caused by the suggestion that the reason for this behavior of the trickster was the same warm feelings towards Dana that Banner himself had for Natasha. However, the hunch seemed absurd to him for the exactly same reason.

Neither the image of Loki loving anyone, nor the image of Dana loving anyone, and even more so the image of these two loving each other could not fit in the scientist's head. Dana and Loki in the form of bosom friends - with ease. In the image of, ahem, bosom friends Pro+ - even easier, considering that it was exactly what they were now. Their appearance (which they did not try to hide in any way) was the most obvious proof of that.

Although at times, Banner had a question in his head about how and why these two were able to make friends. Too quickly, in his opinion, they went from a willingness to cut/gnaw each other's throats, first to sex without commitment, and then to friendship, which manifests itself in already harmless pranks and sometimes in light flirting. And now there were these strange looks from Loki...

If you think about it, some fragments of memory suddenly flashed in Bruce's head, at the airport, when we just arrived at Simar, he had a similar look. A bit not as displeased as it is now, of course, but still. Then almost the entire future New Asgard was staring at Dana... What does he not like so much? The possibility of judgment? And since when does he care about someone's opinion? Or maybe it's all because...

"What?!" loud exclamation of Thor immediately brought Banner out of the abyss of the thought process.

"Dana, are you serious about letting them take us to jail?" such news, it seems, made the Valkyrie sober up naturally.

"No, just him," the brown-haired woman pointed her finger in the direction of the crazed god of thunder, who, taking advantage of his confusion, had already been taken under his hands. "And you, sweetie, for lack of proof in the form of a second corpse of local property, are cleared of charges. So, instead of a jail cell, a hospital bed awaits you."

"Why should I go to the hospital?"

"Because, sweetie, in addition to obvious problems in the work of the brain, I see at least four teeth stuck in your leg that need to be extracted," Dana squinted her eyes towards the injured limb. "Well, I, of course, can do it myself, but by the time I find tweezers in my bag and something to disinfect it with, your wounds will heal themselves ten times already, and together with teeth stuck in them. And to find a pain-killer..."

"Yeah, I got your point, don't continue," interrupted Brunnhilde. “But Thor…"

"Will get what he deserves," the trickster interjected. "He broke the law, after all."

"Said the one who was doing exactly the same in recent years," the thunder god muttered displeasedly in response.

"I have served my sentence."

"When was that?"

"Mmm, let me see…" Loki made a wistful grimace. “When I sat in that glass cage at the SHIELD's flying base. Then when I sat in another cage, waiting to be sent to Asgard. Where, again, they put me in a cage one more time."

"But you hadn't been on the Helicarrier even for three days!" said the indignant Bruce. "And in the second cell too."

"I was forced to observe the faces of the agents, then the avengers, then him," the god of lies nodded towards his brother. "Not to mention the irrepressible thirst for communication of some visitors," there was another eloquent glance towards the god of thunder. "So, a day goes for a year."

"And he didn’t stay long in the Asgardian prison either,” Thor recalled.

"And whose fault made this happen? Shall I remind you, brother, who let me out of there?"

"As if you would not have escape it by yourself!"

"What a high opinion you have about the reliability of our prisons!" Loki chuckled. “Or was it a way to get an escape idea from me? After all, it’s not me who is being sent to jail now. So be it, I will give advice, taken that I am a merciful god... e-he-he, it's funny even for me... try to get into solitary confinement. You will save yourself, and others, from bad influences."

"Wait,” Banner said, and turned to Dana. "Are you really going to let him be taken to a real prison? No joking?"

"Do you think we have an Improv show here or something?" snapped the brown-haired woman. Apparently, she still was not in the best frame of mind. "I understand, it's hard to believe, but our new environmental vandal is an adult. At least de jure. De facto - he's just a little child who does not know how to listen to what is said to him", the woman glared angrily at Thor, whom they had not yet dared to take away. He slouched a little, his head pressed into his shoulders, and looked down at the sand. "Only in this situation the legal side plays a key role, which means that our goldilocks is considered an adult. And adults are responsible for their actions. And maybe, if we are lucky enough, the prison will eventually push this simple truth into his blond head, since his mother and father sucked at parenting too much in order to manage to do that themselves. Judging by what has happened over the past few years, raising children in Asgard is not just lame, but completely paralyzed. Especially, raising the royal ones" Dana glanced in the direction of Loki. "The youngest was hardly relieved of megalomania and murderous inclinations, and, again, it wasn't his mommy and daddy who did it. The middle child still can't cease to be a child, although it would be high time, given that it's a crown he's wearing on the head, not the bows of a first-grader. And the eldest one, judging by the stories, graduated to such a state of psycho that the old bastard Freud would be sobbing with crocodile tears: so much material for his theories in just one person, and he's already kicked the bucket, what an shame!" the woman finally broke off her angry triad and took a couple of deep breaths, calming down. Her gaze slowly passed from Thor to Loki and back. "Who knows, maybe if your parents had read at least one parenting book, your Asgard wouldn't resemble Yugoslavia right now."

Not a trace of the former trail of gaiety that was present just a couple of minutes ago remained. The green guards stood motionless in indecision and looked at Dana the way the workers of the nuclear power plant look at everything that ticks. They had no idea what to do now, so they trusted their instincts. At the moment, the instincts persistently recommended them to stay as quiet as a mouse and not move until a beautiful, but terribly frightening woman tells them otherwise.

Bruce was now glad that this time he did not fall under the distribution, and alternately looked at the Odinsons, then at the Valkyrie, then at her friend. Dana still stood there, radiating waves of discontent. There was not a bit of guilt or regret on her face for what had been said earlier. Thor and Loki both darkened noticeably. Banner did not know what upset them more: a far from flattering mention of deceased parents, a reminder of Ragnarok, or simply the very fact that they were reprimanded (mainly Thor) like small children. Valkyrie looked at her friend with a bit of condemnation. In part, the scientist agreed with her: in his opinion, Dana behaved too harshly this time. Of course, this was her personal opinion, but it could have been expressed more... delicately. Something told him that both gods shared a similar point of view. Although, for some reason no one was in a hurry to speak this point.

Until Thor broke the oppressive silence.

"And what does Yugoslavia have to do with Asgard?"

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Except for Loki and Dana. The trickster continued to stand tensely with a grim face and every now and then cast strange looks at the woman. And in Dana, Thor's reply, instead of relief, made her want to roll her eyes.

"Yugoslavia, just like Asgard, now exists exclusively in the past tense," answered the brown-haired woman and turned her attention to the guardians. "You can take this environmental vandal away, just give me the address of his new apartment. By the way, how much time and nerves does he need to spend on inmates?"

"Five years, mara,” one of them replied, while the other wrote something in a small notebook. And then he hurried to clarify: "Um, can we go?"

"Yeah ... Although, wait a minute. Goldilocks?" the thunder god immediately turned his head to her. "No stupid things. They won't pat your head for the riots in the prison, but extending the voucher is easy. You get caught trying to escape - and... remind me, Greenpeace?"

"For attempted escape - another two years in prison, mara."

"Yes, exactly, two more years on top," she again returned Thor's attention. “And if you do manage to escape the prison, goldilocks, then bear it in this absent mind of yours that I will hunt you down and drag you back myself. Got it?" he silently nodded. Already dulled reverent fear of this woman, which arosed at the very first meeting with her (or rather, with her teeth and claws), again strengthened its position in the head of the thunder god. Dana parted her lips in a predatory smile. "Good boy. That's all, now you're free to lose your freedom for the nearest time."

Bruce watched with a certain detachment as Thor was led away. Despite everything, he still somehow could not believe that Dana really allowed the thunder god to be put in prison. Moreover, she not only allowed, but, one might even say, insisted on it, forbidding him to attempt to free himself ahead of schedule. Banner could not understand the motives of this woman's actions, just as, frankly, he could not understand her at all. Dana could not be ranked in any category of people. This woman was a separate category herself. And if this category were inscribed in some book on psychology or sociology or some other kind of -logy, then the entire section about it would probably be limited to: “Dana is Dana. One and only of a kind (fortunately). The end." Well, and a note: "ALWAYS RIGHT".

And yet, why did she send the Thor to jail? continued to be puzzled Bruce. Much depended on the answer to this question: if she hoped in this way to teach Thor to take responsibility for his actions, then this is just such a radical educational method; but if in this way she took revenge on the him for interfering with her sleep at night... Then the scientist have serious reasons to worry. After all, if this woman is capable of sending a man to jail for five years simply because he snored (albeit quite loud), without raising an eyebrow, then it’s scary to think what kind of revenge she can cook for someone who dared to tell her "fuck you"... Please, let it be for the purpose of educating, and not revenge...

Chapter Text

The tension that had arisen within their "team" on the beach did not disappear even after an hour of walking. Loki didn’t say a word for the entire journey and, it seems, decided to assign himself the title of the late Ogun, because he walked with an expression on his face, like a person who has been tired of all this crap (life) since the very moment of his birth. Brunnhilde walked... that is, she limped after her friend, now and then throwing vague glances in the direction of the latter. Dana herself either did not notice them, or pretended not to notice, and continued to pave the route to their destination with her head proudly raised and with unshakable confidence in her own rightness in her eyes. Bruce, on the other hand, did his best to ensure that none of the above paied special attention to him. Especially Loki, because from the memories of his attention, the scientist still had a chill running down his spine.

So far, everything has been going well. As much as it's possible in an atmosphere like this. Banner could not help but note to himself that now some phrase of Thor or just his idle chatter would be very useful in order to slightly reduce the level of tension. For it seemed that a little more and sparks would loom in the air.

However, at some point, either the atmosphere became heavier than ever, or the combination of a wounded leg with a long walk under the scorching suns finally frazzled her out, but the Valkyrie decided to break the silence that was pressing on everyone.

"Why did you do that?" she turned to Dana.

"Which of what I did why?"

"Don't play the fool, Dana."

"Wasn't even thinking of it, sweetie," the woman replied, turning away and again restoring her previous step. "One fool is already more than enough for us."

Bruce felt cold inside. And this time Loki had absolutely nothing to do with it. Banner was very familiar with this kind of emotional landscape. Such sort of comment at such sort of time was like the tiny sliding of snow off the top branch of a tall tree high in the mountains during the thaw season. It was one end of a process that, without a doubt, would end with a dozen villages being engulfed. Some avengers stopped talking to other avengers (often these avengers were Stark and Rogers) because of some seemingly harmless phrases, spoken out of place and in the wrong tone. And this situation was much worse...

"Hey," now the scientist regretted that he had not agreed once at the university to take an elective course on resolving conflicts or negotiating with terrorists, "maybe we can..."

"Pray, explain to me what are you hinting at?" never before has so much poison been heard in the Valkyrie's voice.