For a place where time typically plods by at a glacial pace, life on Tabula Rasa has been proving especially complicated for Jane. Her motivation remains untempered, but not since college has she faced such an intense mixture of frustration both professional and personal in nature. Not knowing how to reach a goal has never been a problem for her,
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Her presence can only mean one thing, after all: that the spell under which she had fallen was done, and that she's been returned to her normal self. Though there's admittedly part of him that wished he might have been of more help to her during this trying time, he's learned that not everything can be fixed by storming the enemy, no matter how much he might wish it could. (That there's no real enemy to storm is a factor he chooses not to consider.)
"Jane," greets Thor, stepping forward to meet her outside. "You're doing well?"
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"I know this sounds really ominous, but I think maybe we need to talk," she adds, seeing no reason to not just fling herself head-first into what she came here to do. Like a Band-Aid, right? Just get it over with.
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"What is this?" she asks, rehearsed words going straight out the window. It feels good to just cut to the chase. "The two of us, are we just friends? Or are we more than that?" Even before she'd ended up on a malicious desert island that forced her to tell the truth, she'd had no trouble with making her feelings clear. It isn't as if he hasn't known.
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Thor peers down at her, curiously, and says, "Do you mean to ask if we're lovers?"
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"No," she replies, rallying herself. "I know that we're not." Not by any definition, anachronistic or otherwise. "But I can't tell if that's what you want or not, so it would be helpful if you could shed some light on that."
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"I'm very fond of you, Jane Foster," he says, placing his other hand over hers so that it all but disappeared between his, and he takes a step forward, one that brings him well into her personal space. Recalling what she said before, he clarifies, "I... like you."
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"That's, um. Thank you? That's good to know, but actually not very helpful. At all." The warmth of his hands over hers is a whole other level of disconcerting, but she makes no move to pull away. "Are you planning on doing something with that like of me?"
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With a quickness that belies his size, he leans in again, bypassing her hand in favour of her mouth, kissing her properly, though it's short-lived due to the angle; she's really very small, and were they to continue along that vein, he'd likely need to pick her up in some fashion, something he refrains from doing only because he's in need of asking her another question. His eyes opening, he looks at her again, his expression both earnest and mildly exasperated.
"Was that helpful?" he asks, the barest hint of laughter colouring his voice.
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"Helpful. Very helpful," she confirms, and can't keep a smile from creeping over her expression despite how silly she suddenly feels at having forced his hand. "You could have done that a month ago and avoided all of this, for the record."
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"But I should hope my intentions are no longer in doubt."
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Even stooped down he's far too tall for her, and Jane tugs down on his shirt as she lifts onto her tiptoes so that she can press another unabashed kiss to his mouth. Until this moment, she'd not realized how desperately she was in need of something that made sense. The island had yanked all of her safety nets clean away the moment she'd arrived, and she's been floundering in trying to find her feet. Not even science, her life's single constant, makes any kind of sense in this place. But Thor's mouth is warm and his hands are strong but gentle, and there's familiarity and comfort in that instead.
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"Jane--"
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(Really, though, could there ever be a better decision than this one?)
Biting against her bottom lip, she affords Thor a coy, if slightly abashed smile.
"Yes?"
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