How You Live And Breathe, 3/3. NC-17
I'll be out late tonight, so let's post early, shall we? :)
Title: How You Live And Breathe
Series: #20 in Ready For The Siege
(#1 - Look Over Your Shoulder, #2 - Armed Up To The Teeth, #3 - Misery Inspires, #4 - Broken Underneath, #5 - Change Is Coming Soon, #6 - Lick Your Wounds, #7 - Bitter Sparks, #8 - Father's Will, #9 - To Feel Safe Again, #10 - Hit Your Prime, #11 - Open Your Eyes, #12 - Can't Be Ignored, #13 - Make You Ill, #14 - Aim Straight, #15 - Not The First Time, #16 - Friendly Fire, #17 - Relieved, #18 - Release, #19 - Never Noticed)
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Loki/Natasha, Natasha/Bucky
Disclaimer: Not mine! Some comic backstory is incorporated into characterizations, but this is still primarily movieverse.
Spoilers/Warnings: Post-Avengers, AU to the rest of MCU. References events in prior stories as well as Red Room mindfuckery, PTSD, violence.
Title and series title from "The Royal We" by Silversun Pickups.
Summary: Catching the Purple Man doesn't even make a dent in figuring out daily routines. Should it?
Prior chapter:
One - Backtrack
Two - Dealing With Nightmares
Three - Compare and Contrast
Feeling settled into his skin for a change, Loki cloaked himself in invisibility and materialized at Oscorp's laboratory in Midtown. Most of the damage had been repaired already, so that most visitors would barely be able to tell that a devastating fire had gone through it. He walked the halls, peeking into laboratories and making mental notes of the chemical names and project aliases, in case Maria could make sense of it. From what he could tell, these were projects in conjunction with the military in some way. It was the reason Rhodes and Danvers had arrived in New York, even if they managed to sneak in time with Tony.
From the lack of civilian projects in the repaired laboratories, Loki thought perhaps the explosion had been deliberate.
Next he went to the security offices. It was easy to glamour himself into the appearance of a guard with a touch of seidr, and the hapless men on shift bought his lies. They went back in time to the security video of the day of the explosion. Much of their chatter was insensible to him, but that didn't matter. He nodded in all the right places, made his mental notes. And look, he wasn't even ensorcelling their minds! Natasha and Maria would be so proud of him.
"We haven't figured out who the guy is," one guard said with a shrug, showing Loki the video of a thin man breaking into the area. He went through a number of labs, rifling through files and computers, looking more agitated as time went on. He clearly was trying to steal something specific from Oscorp but couldn't find it. In his haste, he didn't close out file cabinet drawers or hoods in the labs, exposing various chemicals and experiments in progress.
"We also haven't figured out how those labs were empty at that time of day," the other guard supplied helpfully. "None of the researchers were able to explain it."
Hm. Perhaps this individual had a measure of persuasion before the explosion.
The man clearly grew angry and knocked over things in one lab, and shouted at someone that walked into the lab. The scientist - Loki had to guess based on his white coat, glasses and clipboard in hand - was startled and started to yell back. There was a tussle, and then the intruder took something off of one of the lab benches and smashed it over the scientist's head. He crumpled to the floor, knocking over a chair and flopping uselessly to the floor. The intruder backed up, suddenly horrified; Loki couldn't see it in the video, but he assumed there was a spreading pool of blood behind the lab bench. He backed up slowly, and then swept his arm over a bubbling set of glassware that the scientist had been using to decant something. His arm lit on fire, and the intruder flailed. The contents were knocked over, partially on the intruder and partially on the bench.
And then everything lit on fire.
The intruder tried to drop to the floor, but the flames didn't go out. He got up, and whatever he touched soon caught fire, including contents of the sterilization hood in the side of the lab. It exploded, throwing the intruder to the floor and blasting a large crater through the wall. The intruder was still alive and visibly panicked, then ran through the hole as the fire raged in the laboratory, growing large enough and hot enough to reach the security camera.
"You bet your ass the Air Force spooks got a copy of this," the first guard grumped. "But if they know who this guy is, they're not saying."
"No, I don't suppose they would," Loki mused.
Getting a screen shot of the clearest image of the intruder, he left and headed straight for the SHIELD office to meet Maria. He even went on foot, just to give him more time to think. The intruder knew what he was doing and where he was supposed to go. Someone had fed him information about what the Air Force was researching. Someone obviously knew what Oscorp was doing, and likely wanted it for themselves.
They were looking for a spy. The Air Force likely didn't know what they were dealing with, but Maria likely would.
***
James frowned at Loki, circling warily. They would have to figure out how best to fight alongside each other rather than against each other. If Natasha was involved, that was easy. She would either lead their actions or they worked in concert for her benefit. Outside of that, they rarely interacted. Steve thought it was a piss poor way of dealing with each other. While Natasha, Sif, Jane and Melinda went off to Greenwich Village for the day, James suggested sparring. It was a good enough start to talk to him without his magic apprentice.
They were both good at knives, and Loki wasn't very fond of pistols or sniper rifles. Hand to hand and knife fighting were good excuses to talk and work out limits, in James' view, and Loki seemed to agree.
"Yours is a more... distinctively direct style than Natasha's."
"I am the blunt force used," James replied. "I do what has to be done, the things that can't be known in public. It's always been that way."
"Assassinations?" Loki guessed, feinting to the right. He laughed mirthlessly when James didn't fall for it and scored a hit.
"Among other things," James agreed without inflection.
"And now? For the rest of them?"
"Still working that out."
"What's to work out? Steve wishes to fight alongside you again. Thor and Sam would like it as well," Loki told him.
James faltered, but regained his composure. "I still don't know if I should."
"Why not? They allow me in their midst, and I was fully an enemy. They still don't trust me. But you, they would. They want to."
"And I'm not going to fuck up that trust, all right? Not until I'm sure I won't!"
Loki rolled around his wild stab and then brought his blade against James' throat. The former assassin stilled rather than fight his way around it. "If you doubt yourself, you will fail. If you question, even once, that what you are doing is wrong, that you're on a path that will harm you, you will fail."
"That's what you do, isn't it? Compound the fuck ups until there's no going back?"
There was no heat in the question, so Loki didn't bristle. Odd, that. Usually he would. It must have been Natasha's influence on him. "It's what I do best."
"I can't be like that."
"Then do a trial run. Not just the scheduled sparring sessions, but truly fighting alongside them when it matters. Those nuisance jobs they take, go with them. See how you fare." Loki removed his knife from James' throat and stepped back, giving him a nod. "I think you will do better than you think."
"Why?"
"Because you care about them, you fool. You won't harm them if you care. You'd only harm them if you didn't care about them as people."
Understanding seemed to dawn on James' face. "And you know this because you're living it. You got to know them all, and now you might not like them all, but you care about what happens to them. You don't want them getting fucked up, either."
"Steve is a good man. Sam is utterly trustworthy. Even Clint, as little cause as he has to speak with me, is willing to do so. And of course, there's Natasha."
"Of course," James echoed, lips quirking into a smile.
"So I believe they will assist you. They won't allow you to fail."
"I can't let 'em down, Loki."
It was strange how much James trusted him with that, but James wasn't expecting Loki to betray him using that information. And he had no interest to do so, not just because of Natasha and her love for this man. James had been so utterly destroyed by Department X, and Loki by now knew that visiting horrors on children and lost souls brought out his ire and need to protect.
And despite his jealousy, that included James.
"I won't allow you to. Neither will Natasha. And as much as you abhor their treatment of you in the beginning, you know the others won't either. They will keep you here until you come back to yourself should something happen."
That probably shouldn't have been as comforting as James found it. But he nodded, relief in his posture. "I wanna keep 'em safe, that's all. If I fall apart on 'em, that would be too much to take. I would rather stay hidden away than hurt them."
"You won't. In that, I am certain."
James obviously was comforted by that. Surprise of all surprises, Loki even meant it.
Perhaps that explained what happened later that day. Natasha had purchased new lingerie "just because," though it was a deep forest green in color. Of course Loki asked her to model it for him, and she teasingly stripped herself out of her clothes. As much as he wanted to fuck her right there, he remained patient and watched her ease into the satin and lace. Ah, it was torture indeed, but he remained patient as the flimsy garment was put into place. Loki sat on her bed, watching, managing to keep from drooling.
"Are you sure there is no purpose to this purchase?" Loki asked, almost ashamed that there was a slight rasp of desire to his voice.
She smirked at him and looked over her shoulder, the contortion of her body posture allowing him to see the curve of her breast and the swell of her rear. He wanted to taste her so badly, and he had to clench his hands into fists to keep from touching her.
"Maybe I wanted to reward good behavior," she purred.
Oh, by the Norns, yes, that was her sultry domme voice.
Though he patted the bed beside him, he almost wanted to sink to his knees in front of her and worship her flesh with his tongue and lips. Perhaps he still could.
"Is there anything you desire, my lady?" he asked, desire clearly evident in his voice. He hoped that by the subservient question, she realized he was asking for another session where she would dominate the everliving fuck out of him. He needed it suddenly, even if he didn't feel raw inside his own skin, just because he craved her touch.
She understood, thankfully, and turned to face him head on. The lush curves in front of him were provocatively hugged by the satin and lace of the teddy, and she ran her hands up her torso to cup her own breasts. "This is what you want, isn't it, Loki?" she asked, teasingly flicking her thumbs over her nipples. "Think you've earned it?"
Loki hurried to recount his good deeds, which at this point were largely revolving around teaching Wanda how to work the seidr and to give weight to her illusions. Natasha wound her fingers through his hair, and she shifted to press her left knee to the bed, half kneeling over him. Without her prompting, Loki pressed his face against her décolletage, inhaling her scent deeply and pressing his lips to her skin reverently.
Natasha shifted to sit beside him, crossing her legs demurely. "That's really all one thing," she pointed out archly. She sounded almost like a schoolteacher with her errant charges, and Loki suddenly wanted her to take that tone with him, teach him to be worthy, to show him what she needed him to be in this moment, give him the way to earn her grace and good will, to see even a fraction of the blessed future that existed in an alternate reality.
Licking his lips, he thought furiously of other good deeds he might have done. He came up blank, and inside quailed that he wouldn't be good enough for Natasha's regard.
But she laughed, and turned to touch his cheek gently. "Oh, Loki. You've come so far, you have no idea, do you?" He looked at blankly, because no, what was she talking about?
Her kiss silenced him before he would have spoken to ask her, and she nibbled sensuously on his lower lip. "Even a year ago, I think you wouldn't have overlooked simple kindnesses toward others in this Tower. The visits to the VA for Sam's group, helping with them..."
"That helps me. It doesn't help them. Not even the few that have a glimmer of their earth magicks, their Wicca-"
She pressed her fingers against his lips and stood in front of him again. "You don't inflate the things you do anymore. Did you notice that?"
No, he hadn't. It hadn't even occurred to him to act in a grandiose manner around her anymore. He had nothing left to prove, not when she had already seen him at his worst and was still there with him, still willing to take him into her bed, still willing to endure his fits and whims and churlish behavior-
"Is this love, Agent Romanoff?" he rasped, looking up at her before he took her fingers into his mouth, between his lips. "Is this what love feels like?"
That startled her, but it gave him hope. Oh, he knew he loved her, that was obvious. But perhaps she never thought about it from her side of things. She loved her James, certainly. The odd feelings she had for him, perhaps it had grown into something almost like love. Nothing soft or tender as it was for James, but he would take even a harder, edged love. He enjoyed working with blades and live steel, after all. The comparison would give him joy.
She ran her nails along his cheek as she contemplated him. But instead of confirming or denying his words, she cupped the back of his neck. "You can worship me with your mouth. And until I say otherwise, only your mouth."
Oh yes, quite the reward for his good behavior.
Leaning forward, Loki took her breast into his mouth, laving her nipple through the green satin. He didn't touch her with his hands, not when she didn't command it, and simply worked at her breast until her breath hitched. Then he switched to her other breast, giving it the same attention he paid the first. Natasha slid one hand along his shoulder and kept the other at the back of his head, subtle direction to continue with his touch. He liked this, it started getting her hot and bothered and ready for his touch.
But Loki wasn't interested in having her discipline him on this day. He was feeling generous and happy, which was a surprise on most days. It was a joy to lavish this kind of attention on Natasha, to feel her respond to him, to know that there was no artifice at all, a genuine enjoyment on her part. This was no role, no job, no bargain.
Natasha removed her hands from him long enough to slide her arms through the straps holding the top in place. The fabric fell to his forehead, but Loki still didn't move. She hadn't given him the command. It made her laugh when she realized it, but she pulled him away with a sharp jerk of her hand in his hair. Loki laughed, looking up at her with a rapt expression. "You do like following my directions in this," she said.
"Oh, yes," Loki breathed. He quirked his lips into an insouciant smile. "Agent Romanoff."
She pulled on his hair, tipping his head backward. "Are you being defiant, Loki? Forgetting your place here?"
"Not at all. My place is where you put me. Preferably under you."
Another sharp tug on his hair made him gasp. "You don't direct me, Loki. Just for that, get up."
He hurried to do her bidding, wondering what she would do in response to his suggestion. Loki didn't want this to end, and by the scent of her, neither did she. So it took a great deal of effort to keep from laughing delightedly when she removed the flimsy garment and laid across her bed, legs spread wide. "Kneel," she commanded, lips quirking at him.
Loki did so immediately, mouth practically watering at the thought of tasting her. "My lady, I am yours to command."
"Then get to fucking with your mouth, Loki. No hands except to hold me steady."
Well, that only meant he couldn't slide his fingers inside her. No matter, he could make her come with his tongue alone. Loki licked at her clit in earnest, circles and swirls around that sensitive nub, even after her breathing grew harsh and fractured. Her thighs trembled, and it was only when the tremors threatened to have her legs fall shut did he reach up to hold her open to his tongue and lips. Sucking gently on her clit made her keen and arch, pinching her own breasts and trying to keep from writhing on the bed. Loki kept going until she came, crying out sharply before falling limp. She hadn't told him to stop at the single orgasm, so he moved to lick at her clit again, slow circles as she came down from her high. After plunging his tongue into her slit, he licked at her again.
Natasha's cries only urged him to continue, to delve deeply into her, to lick inside her as far as he could go. Dimly, he heard someone enter her bedroom. That would only be James, especially with Natasha keeping her welcoming pose.
"C'mere, James," she gasped, shifting to reach out for him. "Take that off."
James may have chuckled at her eagerness, but Loki didn't care. Her thighs trembled on either side of his head, and there was one hand on his head, nails scratching at his scalp erratically. She was close, so close, and he could easily bring her over the edge again.
Looking up as he moved to her clit again, Loki saw that James had dropped his trousers and underwear, and Natasha had taken his cock into her mouth. That explained her muffled cries very well. James cradled the back of her head with his metal hand and stroked her jaw with his fingers tenderly. Not to be outdone, Loki reached up with one hand to stroke a breast and brush his fingers across her nipple. Natasha moaned, arching up into his touch. The hand at his head twitched, and she reached up with her other one to grab James' ass and squeeze.
Once she came, Loki pulled back to lick his slick lips and ease his jaw. "My lady," he rasped, breath coming in heaving gasps. She twitched at the sensation of his breath over her wet skin, making him grin lasciviously. "I want my cock inside you."
Natasha let go of James' cock long enough to answer. "Yes. Now."
Loki was only too glad to shift back and cheat, using a spell to strip his clothes away. That allowed him to slide his hands beneath her hips and shift them upward. He lined up his cock with her entrance, and slid home in a single thrust. Natasha moaned and nuzzled James' balls and cock, pulling his hips close to her mouth again. James had his eyes on her alone, murmuring something in Russian. She laughed, then drew his cock back into her mouth.
Drawing his eyes away from the way her jaw moved, Loki kept up a steady rhythm as he fucked into her. Natasha squeezed tightly around him, her hand moving to grasp his wrist. Ah, her nails raked across the sensitive skin over his pulse, and he groaned at that. So close, embarrassingly close, almost ready to spill into her like a boy with a first lover. I love you, he said in Allspeak, voice fracturing. She scratched him again, pulling on his wrist as if to tell him to go harder, faster, keep this up, and it was enough to get him to come.
James growled out something in Russian, his back arching and eyes closing as Natasha worked on him. He was close, had to be, and then he shouted, body taut with tension. It abruptly bled out of him, and Loki watched Natasha convulsively swallow. He shouldn't have found that as hot as he did, shouldn't have wanted her again as much as he did.
His refractory period was nearly as short as Loki's could be with magic, and he cursed himself for forgetting to spell himself prior to this. He had to lie beside Natasha and be content with stroking and mouthing her breasts as James moved to fuck her, easily sliding into her slick warmth, Loki's seed smeared across her thighs. She was well used, languid and boneless beneath them, lips curling sensuously as she received her pleasure.
Nipping at her earlobe, Loki murmured "I would do anything for you, my Natasha."
She turned and kissed him, and the faint aftertaste of James' come didn't even bother him, not when her tongue was invading his mouth, her hand on his arm to keep him close. "Keep doing what you're doing," she gasped. "Give me excuses to reward you."
He could oblige her easily. "My pleasure."
And then she was coming, arching up nearly off the bed, letting Loki cradle her torso as James pounded into her hard and fast, a rough edge that she loved, his lower lip caught between his teeth as he tried to ride out the squeezing of her inner muscles until she finished coming. Only then did he allow himself to come inside her, slowing down and then stopping.
They all had a slick sheen of sweat to their skin, the sheets were a tangled mess and Natasha was sprawled between Loki and James. He should have probably felt jealous or unmanned, that he wasn't enough to satiate her appetites. But he didn't feel that way at all. Loki slid a hand across her stomach without any possessive intent. He was here with her, and she had given him the orders he wanted to get. He'd pleasured her himself and didn't stop her from taking her pleasure in James. And he would never come between her and James, not when doing so would upset her and make her lose what respect she might have had for him.
More than that, he didn't even want to come between them. He didn't think of James bedding Natasha in a frenzy of jealousy, which surprised him now that he thought about it. Seeing the two of them together, having her invite James to her bed even as Loki was in it, didn't make him feel less capable or full of argr. He simply... was. James didn't resent Loki's presence or belittle his affections, didn't question Natasha's desire to keep him close. And Loki was finding that he genuinely liked the man and his style of attack. It was like having a brother without the pain and drama, without the constant battles he had with Thor for dominance and esteem. None of that mattered to James at all.
"This works," Loki murmured, wonder in his voice.
Natasha merely gave him a satisfied grin. "So we keep doing this."
"Yes." He kissed her, pleased with himself, with her satisfaction in him, with her esteem. He never would have guessed that this was possible, that he could feel whole in this moment, that he wouldn't fear the coming darkness that would grow inside his empty soul.
She would save him. The others would, too. Loki would even let them.
***
Zebediah Killgrave was surrounded by the luxuries he never had as a boy, all the creature comforts he had envied in others. Oh, he wasn't supposed to; Czechoslovakia in the 90's had still been a place where the populace wasn't supposed to have ostentatious living. Slipping out of the country into Western Europe had only whetted his appetite. It was easy to slip into different intelligence communities and work as a spy. Facile with multiple languages and having an eidetic memory, it really was the ideal profession for him. He really had no allegiance to any particular country, and had no compunction about selling secrets between them.
Eventually, Zebediah continued his westward travels and wound up in the US. He had already gone from spy to mercenary, still without the nest egg he wanted to have. Stealing from Oscorp was supposed to give him the payout of a lifetime, but instead everything exploded.
And in the aftermath, he was purple. And had the power of suggestion.
So why not get the nice things he always wanted? Why not get the payout to live comfortably?
Before the accident, he had flirted with a waitress at his favorite café. There was no way to return in person, not when he was so noticeable, so remarkable. Funny how he used to wish that others could see him, and now he didn't want them to.
It was easy to track her down and see her right before she was about to go on shift. Without even thinking twice, Zebediah told Melanie they were married, newlyweds, and he had a surprise for her at their new apartment. She grinned at him, wide and sweet, eyes crinkling in the corners. She was in uniform, had her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, and her blue eyes sparkled. She followed him to his safe house in Midtown without question, and they had a fantastic honeymoon. It was everything Zebediah thought it would be, and she tasted as sweet as he thought she would. He was utterly in love, and she loved him back.
Life was perfect.
When the door crashed in, Zebediah was unprepared. He had been lying in bed with Melanie, who dozed out of exhaustion. She was sprawled across him, her pale skin such a contrast to his purple tones. The press of her naked breast against his chest was delicious, and for the moment he was sated. He carded his fingers through her hair, a smile on his face.
The crashing sound startled him so much he fell out of bed and bumped his head on the bedside table. Damn these tall beds, he thought, dazed. Melanie made a murmuring sound, but she was still asleep, sprawled across the bed.
Looking up, he saw a tall man dressed in black and green with a golden horned helmet, and beside him was a woman in a red leotard, red tights and red cape. Her black hair was spilling out in a mess of curls, and she pushed them away from her face impatiently.
"What the fuck is this?" Zebediah snarled, getting to his feet. "Get out of my house!"
They laughed at him. They laughed at him.
The woman raised her hands, red light coating her palm. "Let me take care of this."
"I'll make sure you don't do something catastrophic," the man agreed.
The red light shot across the space between them, then wrapped itself around him. The light was warm, and he felt almost as if something was rifling around his insides. Zebediah opened his mouth, maybe to scream, maybe to tell her to go away. As he did so, the light suddenly died, and he crashed down to the floor. It was a painful reminder that he was naked.
When her eyes fell to Melanie, the curiosity there made Zebediah panic. "Don't you touch her!" he shouted. "She's mine!"
"Yours," the woman murmured. "Did she get a choice in that?"
He ignored the contemptuous note to her voice. It didn't matter what she thought, anyway. No one else would understand what he felt for Melanie, that their love had to be real. She hadn't known it, that was all. He had unlocked its presence in her mind. She wouldn't smile so sweet or respond so well to his touch otherwise.
"Don't touch her!" Zebediah shouted when the woman reached out for Melanie. She ignored him, so he started struggling against the bonds holding him in place. His panic flared almost instantly, an ugly, awful feeling in the center of his chest. This woman should have been obeying his command. This man should be listening to him, not laughing. They shouldn't be even contemplating Melanie, not with his newfound gift. She was his bride, his love. If anything happened to that...
The woman wiggled her fingers, red light curling around them and then floating across to Melanie's prone form. Ignoring his shouting, the light wrapped around her head and neck, sinking into her skin. She watched as Melanie twitched violently, her eyes shooting open and jaws stretching wide in a silent scream. Turning over, Melanie didn't notice that she was naked. She was too busy taking in her surroundings, with the look of someone just waking up from a series of long dreams. The man and woman attacking Zebediah didn't leer at her, at least, but they noticed the growing look of horror in Melanie's eyes. She looked at Zebediah, then the others, and started to scream, yanking a sheet to cover her nakedness.
"I take it this wasn't a voluntary bout of isolation?" the man asked in dry tones.
Melanie looked at him helplessly. "What's going on? Why am I here?" There was a faint note of hysteria in her voice, and Zebediah wanted to soothe it away. She shouldn't be worried about these strangers, about what was going on around her. She should be content, satisfied with his love for her, secure in the knowledge that he would take care of her.
But no, these people had just ruined everything.
The woman shot Zebediah another nasty look that he ignored. She moved over to Melanie's side and quietly sat beside her. "We're here to help," she began slowly, careful not to touch Melanie without permission from her. That was good, but she should have asked Zebediah. Not that he was going to give it to her, the interloper.
She looked over at the man when she realized that Melanie was staring at Zebediah, a look of horror and loathing on her face. Zebediah wanted to erase it, but he was caught, and something about their demeanor told him that trying anything to change Melanie's mind would not be tolerated at all.
"I'll take care of this."
"Please." He looked vaguely uncomfortable with Melanie's emotional outburst as she started crying, the sheet twisted nervously in her hands. When he looked at Zebediah, it felt as though he was staring into the abyss of Hell itself.
The ladies moved to a different room in the apartment, and Melanie covered her nudity so that Zebediah couldn't see her precious body any longer. Damn these two for ruining everything!
"You should know that commanding someone to obey your sexual cravings doesn't make it love. It doesn't mean there is genuine concern over your wellbeing. It doesn't mean you have any emotional connection at all."
The condemnation stung. "Melanie loves me."
"Not without your coercion. And if it's coerced, it's rape. It isn't love at all."
Zebediah deflated. "I love her. And she loves me. Melanie loves me..."
"Don't delude yourself," the man sneered. He made a slashing motion with his hand as there was a bright scarlet light off to the side where the woman had disappeared with Melanie.
Zebediah wanted to scream. His entire dream was falling down around him.
The slashed air revealed another location through it. Magic. There was a woman with dark hair in a business suit at a desk, going through piles of paperwork, an aggrieved expression on her face. "I found him. Chemical exposure altering pheromones and acoustics in his voice so that he had the power of suggestion."
She was about to reply when she noticed Zebediah's bound form. Frowning, she flicked her eyes at the man. "I assume you took care of that, Trickster?"
Trickster smirked. "I let my apprentice do that. The Scarlet Witch. She did lovely work. The compulsive powers have been stripped and erased from all existence. It sometimes takes an extra touch to remove the compulsion from victims, and she's with one of them now."
The woman frowned at Trickster. "A victim? You mean there's one there?"
Zebediah snarled at Trickster. "Melanie loves me. She loves me."
"And would she love you if you hadn't compelled her? Would she stay if you didn't desire her to?" the Trickster asked him. The woman through the portal watched, gaze sharp and assessing, waiting for Zebediah's answer.
But he couldn't answer. They all knew what it would be.
"I'll bring him in. The Scarlet Witch is with Melanie now. I believe she'll need to speak with one of your counselors. It would be fairly traumatic to realize all that happened."
The woman seemed impressed with the Trickster. "Rather empathetic of you."
"I am capable of such things on occasion," he replied haughtily. But apparently he had no such empathy for Zebediah, because he whirled around, grasped him by the arm and hurled him through the portal so that he landed at the brunette's feet. "You know what to do with such trash, Agent Hill. I will teach the Scarlet Witch the trick of portals, and we'll bring Melanie to you separately, if you don't mind."
"Not at all," Agent Hill replied. When she looked down at Zebediah, he got a chill that had nothing to do with his nakedness. "There's enough with this case right now. Tell her to take all the time she needs, and we'll debrief you both afterward."
The Trickster's grin was sharklike, sharp teeth flashing. It would haunt Zebediah's nightmares for years to come.
***
Closing her eyes, Selene could reach out and feel the shift of magic and psychic energies; something odd was happening on that realm. Sparks were setting off cascades of magic and dangerous activities. That world didn't really value magic anyway. They wouldn't even care if it was gone, rather like the people of Jotunheim. Midgard was as good a place as any to begin siphoning off energies again. Not because she had to, mind, but because she wanted to, and the realm was bursting at the seams with fools that couldn't value the life that the Norns had given them. She might as well take it from them.
It would indeed be delicious.
The End
Title: How You Live And Breathe
Series: #20 in Ready For The Siege
(#1 - Look Over Your Shoulder, #2 - Armed Up To The Teeth, #3 - Misery Inspires, #4 - Broken Underneath, #5 - Change Is Coming Soon, #6 - Lick Your Wounds, #7 - Bitter Sparks, #8 - Father's Will, #9 - To Feel Safe Again, #10 - Hit Your Prime, #11 - Open Your Eyes, #12 - Can't Be Ignored, #13 - Make You Ill, #14 - Aim Straight, #15 - Not The First Time, #16 - Friendly Fire, #17 - Relieved, #18 - Release, #19 - Never Noticed)
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Loki/Natasha, Natasha/Bucky
Disclaimer: Not mine! Some comic backstory is incorporated into characterizations, but this is still primarily movieverse.
Spoilers/Warnings: Post-Avengers, AU to the rest of MCU. References events in prior stories as well as Red Room mindfuckery, PTSD, violence.
Title and series title from "The Royal We" by Silversun Pickups.
Summary: Catching the Purple Man doesn't even make a dent in figuring out daily routines. Should it?
Prior chapter:
One - Backtrack
Two - Dealing With Nightmares
Three - Compare and Contrast
Feeling settled into his skin for a change, Loki cloaked himself in invisibility and materialized at Oscorp's laboratory in Midtown. Most of the damage had been repaired already, so that most visitors would barely be able to tell that a devastating fire had gone through it. He walked the halls, peeking into laboratories and making mental notes of the chemical names and project aliases, in case Maria could make sense of it. From what he could tell, these were projects in conjunction with the military in some way. It was the reason Rhodes and Danvers had arrived in New York, even if they managed to sneak in time with Tony.
From the lack of civilian projects in the repaired laboratories, Loki thought perhaps the explosion had been deliberate.
Next he went to the security offices. It was easy to glamour himself into the appearance of a guard with a touch of seidr, and the hapless men on shift bought his lies. They went back in time to the security video of the day of the explosion. Much of their chatter was insensible to him, but that didn't matter. He nodded in all the right places, made his mental notes. And look, he wasn't even ensorcelling their minds! Natasha and Maria would be so proud of him.
"We haven't figured out who the guy is," one guard said with a shrug, showing Loki the video of a thin man breaking into the area. He went through a number of labs, rifling through files and computers, looking more agitated as time went on. He clearly was trying to steal something specific from Oscorp but couldn't find it. In his haste, he didn't close out file cabinet drawers or hoods in the labs, exposing various chemicals and experiments in progress.
"We also haven't figured out how those labs were empty at that time of day," the other guard supplied helpfully. "None of the researchers were able to explain it."
Hm. Perhaps this individual had a measure of persuasion before the explosion.
The man clearly grew angry and knocked over things in one lab, and shouted at someone that walked into the lab. The scientist - Loki had to guess based on his white coat, glasses and clipboard in hand - was startled and started to yell back. There was a tussle, and then the intruder took something off of one of the lab benches and smashed it over the scientist's head. He crumpled to the floor, knocking over a chair and flopping uselessly to the floor. The intruder backed up, suddenly horrified; Loki couldn't see it in the video, but he assumed there was a spreading pool of blood behind the lab bench. He backed up slowly, and then swept his arm over a bubbling set of glassware that the scientist had been using to decant something. His arm lit on fire, and the intruder flailed. The contents were knocked over, partially on the intruder and partially on the bench.
And then everything lit on fire.
The intruder tried to drop to the floor, but the flames didn't go out. He got up, and whatever he touched soon caught fire, including contents of the sterilization hood in the side of the lab. It exploded, throwing the intruder to the floor and blasting a large crater through the wall. The intruder was still alive and visibly panicked, then ran through the hole as the fire raged in the laboratory, growing large enough and hot enough to reach the security camera.
"You bet your ass the Air Force spooks got a copy of this," the first guard grumped. "But if they know who this guy is, they're not saying."
"No, I don't suppose they would," Loki mused.
Getting a screen shot of the clearest image of the intruder, he left and headed straight for the SHIELD office to meet Maria. He even went on foot, just to give him more time to think. The intruder knew what he was doing and where he was supposed to go. Someone had fed him information about what the Air Force was researching. Someone obviously knew what Oscorp was doing, and likely wanted it for themselves.
They were looking for a spy. The Air Force likely didn't know what they were dealing with, but Maria likely would.
***
James frowned at Loki, circling warily. They would have to figure out how best to fight alongside each other rather than against each other. If Natasha was involved, that was easy. She would either lead their actions or they worked in concert for her benefit. Outside of that, they rarely interacted. Steve thought it was a piss poor way of dealing with each other. While Natasha, Sif, Jane and Melinda went off to Greenwich Village for the day, James suggested sparring. It was a good enough start to talk to him without his magic apprentice.
They were both good at knives, and Loki wasn't very fond of pistols or sniper rifles. Hand to hand and knife fighting were good excuses to talk and work out limits, in James' view, and Loki seemed to agree.
"Yours is a more... distinctively direct style than Natasha's."
"I am the blunt force used," James replied. "I do what has to be done, the things that can't be known in public. It's always been that way."
"Assassinations?" Loki guessed, feinting to the right. He laughed mirthlessly when James didn't fall for it and scored a hit.
"Among other things," James agreed without inflection.
"And now? For the rest of them?"
"Still working that out."
"What's to work out? Steve wishes to fight alongside you again. Thor and Sam would like it as well," Loki told him.
James faltered, but regained his composure. "I still don't know if I should."
"Why not? They allow me in their midst, and I was fully an enemy. They still don't trust me. But you, they would. They want to."
"And I'm not going to fuck up that trust, all right? Not until I'm sure I won't!"
Loki rolled around his wild stab and then brought his blade against James' throat. The former assassin stilled rather than fight his way around it. "If you doubt yourself, you will fail. If you question, even once, that what you are doing is wrong, that you're on a path that will harm you, you will fail."
"That's what you do, isn't it? Compound the fuck ups until there's no going back?"
There was no heat in the question, so Loki didn't bristle. Odd, that. Usually he would. It must have been Natasha's influence on him. "It's what I do best."
"I can't be like that."
"Then do a trial run. Not just the scheduled sparring sessions, but truly fighting alongside them when it matters. Those nuisance jobs they take, go with them. See how you fare." Loki removed his knife from James' throat and stepped back, giving him a nod. "I think you will do better than you think."
"Why?"
"Because you care about them, you fool. You won't harm them if you care. You'd only harm them if you didn't care about them as people."
Understanding seemed to dawn on James' face. "And you know this because you're living it. You got to know them all, and now you might not like them all, but you care about what happens to them. You don't want them getting fucked up, either."
"Steve is a good man. Sam is utterly trustworthy. Even Clint, as little cause as he has to speak with me, is willing to do so. And of course, there's Natasha."
"Of course," James echoed, lips quirking into a smile.
"So I believe they will assist you. They won't allow you to fail."
"I can't let 'em down, Loki."
It was strange how much James trusted him with that, but James wasn't expecting Loki to betray him using that information. And he had no interest to do so, not just because of Natasha and her love for this man. James had been so utterly destroyed by Department X, and Loki by now knew that visiting horrors on children and lost souls brought out his ire and need to protect.
And despite his jealousy, that included James.
"I won't allow you to. Neither will Natasha. And as much as you abhor their treatment of you in the beginning, you know the others won't either. They will keep you here until you come back to yourself should something happen."
That probably shouldn't have been as comforting as James found it. But he nodded, relief in his posture. "I wanna keep 'em safe, that's all. If I fall apart on 'em, that would be too much to take. I would rather stay hidden away than hurt them."
"You won't. In that, I am certain."
James obviously was comforted by that. Surprise of all surprises, Loki even meant it.
Perhaps that explained what happened later that day. Natasha had purchased new lingerie "just because," though it was a deep forest green in color. Of course Loki asked her to model it for him, and she teasingly stripped herself out of her clothes. As much as he wanted to fuck her right there, he remained patient and watched her ease into the satin and lace. Ah, it was torture indeed, but he remained patient as the flimsy garment was put into place. Loki sat on her bed, watching, managing to keep from drooling.
"Are you sure there is no purpose to this purchase?" Loki asked, almost ashamed that there was a slight rasp of desire to his voice.
She smirked at him and looked over her shoulder, the contortion of her body posture allowing him to see the curve of her breast and the swell of her rear. He wanted to taste her so badly, and he had to clench his hands into fists to keep from touching her.
"Maybe I wanted to reward good behavior," she purred.
Oh, by the Norns, yes, that was her sultry domme voice.
Though he patted the bed beside him, he almost wanted to sink to his knees in front of her and worship her flesh with his tongue and lips. Perhaps he still could.
"Is there anything you desire, my lady?" he asked, desire clearly evident in his voice. He hoped that by the subservient question, she realized he was asking for another session where she would dominate the everliving fuck out of him. He needed it suddenly, even if he didn't feel raw inside his own skin, just because he craved her touch.
She understood, thankfully, and turned to face him head on. The lush curves in front of him were provocatively hugged by the satin and lace of the teddy, and she ran her hands up her torso to cup her own breasts. "This is what you want, isn't it, Loki?" she asked, teasingly flicking her thumbs over her nipples. "Think you've earned it?"
Loki hurried to recount his good deeds, which at this point were largely revolving around teaching Wanda how to work the seidr and to give weight to her illusions. Natasha wound her fingers through his hair, and she shifted to press her left knee to the bed, half kneeling over him. Without her prompting, Loki pressed his face against her décolletage, inhaling her scent deeply and pressing his lips to her skin reverently.
Natasha shifted to sit beside him, crossing her legs demurely. "That's really all one thing," she pointed out archly. She sounded almost like a schoolteacher with her errant charges, and Loki suddenly wanted her to take that tone with him, teach him to be worthy, to show him what she needed him to be in this moment, give him the way to earn her grace and good will, to see even a fraction of the blessed future that existed in an alternate reality.
Licking his lips, he thought furiously of other good deeds he might have done. He came up blank, and inside quailed that he wouldn't be good enough for Natasha's regard.
But she laughed, and turned to touch his cheek gently. "Oh, Loki. You've come so far, you have no idea, do you?" He looked at blankly, because no, what was she talking about?
Her kiss silenced him before he would have spoken to ask her, and she nibbled sensuously on his lower lip. "Even a year ago, I think you wouldn't have overlooked simple kindnesses toward others in this Tower. The visits to the VA for Sam's group, helping with them..."
"That helps me. It doesn't help them. Not even the few that have a glimmer of their earth magicks, their Wicca-"
She pressed her fingers against his lips and stood in front of him again. "You don't inflate the things you do anymore. Did you notice that?"
No, he hadn't. It hadn't even occurred to him to act in a grandiose manner around her anymore. He had nothing left to prove, not when she had already seen him at his worst and was still there with him, still willing to take him into her bed, still willing to endure his fits and whims and churlish behavior-
"Is this love, Agent Romanoff?" he rasped, looking up at her before he took her fingers into his mouth, between his lips. "Is this what love feels like?"
That startled her, but it gave him hope. Oh, he knew he loved her, that was obvious. But perhaps she never thought about it from her side of things. She loved her James, certainly. The odd feelings she had for him, perhaps it had grown into something almost like love. Nothing soft or tender as it was for James, but he would take even a harder, edged love. He enjoyed working with blades and live steel, after all. The comparison would give him joy.
She ran her nails along his cheek as she contemplated him. But instead of confirming or denying his words, she cupped the back of his neck. "You can worship me with your mouth. And until I say otherwise, only your mouth."
Oh yes, quite the reward for his good behavior.
Leaning forward, Loki took her breast into his mouth, laving her nipple through the green satin. He didn't touch her with his hands, not when she didn't command it, and simply worked at her breast until her breath hitched. Then he switched to her other breast, giving it the same attention he paid the first. Natasha slid one hand along his shoulder and kept the other at the back of his head, subtle direction to continue with his touch. He liked this, it started getting her hot and bothered and ready for his touch.
But Loki wasn't interested in having her discipline him on this day. He was feeling generous and happy, which was a surprise on most days. It was a joy to lavish this kind of attention on Natasha, to feel her respond to him, to know that there was no artifice at all, a genuine enjoyment on her part. This was no role, no job, no bargain.
Natasha removed her hands from him long enough to slide her arms through the straps holding the top in place. The fabric fell to his forehead, but Loki still didn't move. She hadn't given him the command. It made her laugh when she realized it, but she pulled him away with a sharp jerk of her hand in his hair. Loki laughed, looking up at her with a rapt expression. "You do like following my directions in this," she said.
"Oh, yes," Loki breathed. He quirked his lips into an insouciant smile. "Agent Romanoff."
She pulled on his hair, tipping his head backward. "Are you being defiant, Loki? Forgetting your place here?"
"Not at all. My place is where you put me. Preferably under you."
Another sharp tug on his hair made him gasp. "You don't direct me, Loki. Just for that, get up."
He hurried to do her bidding, wondering what she would do in response to his suggestion. Loki didn't want this to end, and by the scent of her, neither did she. So it took a great deal of effort to keep from laughing delightedly when she removed the flimsy garment and laid across her bed, legs spread wide. "Kneel," she commanded, lips quirking at him.
Loki did so immediately, mouth practically watering at the thought of tasting her. "My lady, I am yours to command."
"Then get to fucking with your mouth, Loki. No hands except to hold me steady."
Well, that only meant he couldn't slide his fingers inside her. No matter, he could make her come with his tongue alone. Loki licked at her clit in earnest, circles and swirls around that sensitive nub, even after her breathing grew harsh and fractured. Her thighs trembled, and it was only when the tremors threatened to have her legs fall shut did he reach up to hold her open to his tongue and lips. Sucking gently on her clit made her keen and arch, pinching her own breasts and trying to keep from writhing on the bed. Loki kept going until she came, crying out sharply before falling limp. She hadn't told him to stop at the single orgasm, so he moved to lick at her clit again, slow circles as she came down from her high. After plunging his tongue into her slit, he licked at her again.
Natasha's cries only urged him to continue, to delve deeply into her, to lick inside her as far as he could go. Dimly, he heard someone enter her bedroom. That would only be James, especially with Natasha keeping her welcoming pose.
"C'mere, James," she gasped, shifting to reach out for him. "Take that off."
James may have chuckled at her eagerness, but Loki didn't care. Her thighs trembled on either side of his head, and there was one hand on his head, nails scratching at his scalp erratically. She was close, so close, and he could easily bring her over the edge again.
Looking up as he moved to her clit again, Loki saw that James had dropped his trousers and underwear, and Natasha had taken his cock into her mouth. That explained her muffled cries very well. James cradled the back of her head with his metal hand and stroked her jaw with his fingers tenderly. Not to be outdone, Loki reached up with one hand to stroke a breast and brush his fingers across her nipple. Natasha moaned, arching up into his touch. The hand at his head twitched, and she reached up with her other one to grab James' ass and squeeze.
Once she came, Loki pulled back to lick his slick lips and ease his jaw. "My lady," he rasped, breath coming in heaving gasps. She twitched at the sensation of his breath over her wet skin, making him grin lasciviously. "I want my cock inside you."
Natasha let go of James' cock long enough to answer. "Yes. Now."
Loki was only too glad to shift back and cheat, using a spell to strip his clothes away. That allowed him to slide his hands beneath her hips and shift them upward. He lined up his cock with her entrance, and slid home in a single thrust. Natasha moaned and nuzzled James' balls and cock, pulling his hips close to her mouth again. James had his eyes on her alone, murmuring something in Russian. She laughed, then drew his cock back into her mouth.
Drawing his eyes away from the way her jaw moved, Loki kept up a steady rhythm as he fucked into her. Natasha squeezed tightly around him, her hand moving to grasp his wrist. Ah, her nails raked across the sensitive skin over his pulse, and he groaned at that. So close, embarrassingly close, almost ready to spill into her like a boy with a first lover. I love you, he said in Allspeak, voice fracturing. She scratched him again, pulling on his wrist as if to tell him to go harder, faster, keep this up, and it was enough to get him to come.
James growled out something in Russian, his back arching and eyes closing as Natasha worked on him. He was close, had to be, and then he shouted, body taut with tension. It abruptly bled out of him, and Loki watched Natasha convulsively swallow. He shouldn't have found that as hot as he did, shouldn't have wanted her again as much as he did.
His refractory period was nearly as short as Loki's could be with magic, and he cursed himself for forgetting to spell himself prior to this. He had to lie beside Natasha and be content with stroking and mouthing her breasts as James moved to fuck her, easily sliding into her slick warmth, Loki's seed smeared across her thighs. She was well used, languid and boneless beneath them, lips curling sensuously as she received her pleasure.
Nipping at her earlobe, Loki murmured "I would do anything for you, my Natasha."
She turned and kissed him, and the faint aftertaste of James' come didn't even bother him, not when her tongue was invading his mouth, her hand on his arm to keep him close. "Keep doing what you're doing," she gasped. "Give me excuses to reward you."
He could oblige her easily. "My pleasure."
And then she was coming, arching up nearly off the bed, letting Loki cradle her torso as James pounded into her hard and fast, a rough edge that she loved, his lower lip caught between his teeth as he tried to ride out the squeezing of her inner muscles until she finished coming. Only then did he allow himself to come inside her, slowing down and then stopping.
They all had a slick sheen of sweat to their skin, the sheets were a tangled mess and Natasha was sprawled between Loki and James. He should have probably felt jealous or unmanned, that he wasn't enough to satiate her appetites. But he didn't feel that way at all. Loki slid a hand across her stomach without any possessive intent. He was here with her, and she had given him the orders he wanted to get. He'd pleasured her himself and didn't stop her from taking her pleasure in James. And he would never come between her and James, not when doing so would upset her and make her lose what respect she might have had for him.
More than that, he didn't even want to come between them. He didn't think of James bedding Natasha in a frenzy of jealousy, which surprised him now that he thought about it. Seeing the two of them together, having her invite James to her bed even as Loki was in it, didn't make him feel less capable or full of argr. He simply... was. James didn't resent Loki's presence or belittle his affections, didn't question Natasha's desire to keep him close. And Loki was finding that he genuinely liked the man and his style of attack. It was like having a brother without the pain and drama, without the constant battles he had with Thor for dominance and esteem. None of that mattered to James at all.
"This works," Loki murmured, wonder in his voice.
Natasha merely gave him a satisfied grin. "So we keep doing this."
"Yes." He kissed her, pleased with himself, with her satisfaction in him, with her esteem. He never would have guessed that this was possible, that he could feel whole in this moment, that he wouldn't fear the coming darkness that would grow inside his empty soul.
She would save him. The others would, too. Loki would even let them.
***
Zebediah Killgrave was surrounded by the luxuries he never had as a boy, all the creature comforts he had envied in others. Oh, he wasn't supposed to; Czechoslovakia in the 90's had still been a place where the populace wasn't supposed to have ostentatious living. Slipping out of the country into Western Europe had only whetted his appetite. It was easy to slip into different intelligence communities and work as a spy. Facile with multiple languages and having an eidetic memory, it really was the ideal profession for him. He really had no allegiance to any particular country, and had no compunction about selling secrets between them.
Eventually, Zebediah continued his westward travels and wound up in the US. He had already gone from spy to mercenary, still without the nest egg he wanted to have. Stealing from Oscorp was supposed to give him the payout of a lifetime, but instead everything exploded.
And in the aftermath, he was purple. And had the power of suggestion.
So why not get the nice things he always wanted? Why not get the payout to live comfortably?
Before the accident, he had flirted with a waitress at his favorite café. There was no way to return in person, not when he was so noticeable, so remarkable. Funny how he used to wish that others could see him, and now he didn't want them to.
It was easy to track her down and see her right before she was about to go on shift. Without even thinking twice, Zebediah told Melanie they were married, newlyweds, and he had a surprise for her at their new apartment. She grinned at him, wide and sweet, eyes crinkling in the corners. She was in uniform, had her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, and her blue eyes sparkled. She followed him to his safe house in Midtown without question, and they had a fantastic honeymoon. It was everything Zebediah thought it would be, and she tasted as sweet as he thought she would. He was utterly in love, and she loved him back.
Life was perfect.
When the door crashed in, Zebediah was unprepared. He had been lying in bed with Melanie, who dozed out of exhaustion. She was sprawled across him, her pale skin such a contrast to his purple tones. The press of her naked breast against his chest was delicious, and for the moment he was sated. He carded his fingers through her hair, a smile on his face.
The crashing sound startled him so much he fell out of bed and bumped his head on the bedside table. Damn these tall beds, he thought, dazed. Melanie made a murmuring sound, but she was still asleep, sprawled across the bed.
Looking up, he saw a tall man dressed in black and green with a golden horned helmet, and beside him was a woman in a red leotard, red tights and red cape. Her black hair was spilling out in a mess of curls, and she pushed them away from her face impatiently.
"What the fuck is this?" Zebediah snarled, getting to his feet. "Get out of my house!"
They laughed at him. They laughed at him.
The woman raised her hands, red light coating her palm. "Let me take care of this."
"I'll make sure you don't do something catastrophic," the man agreed.
The red light shot across the space between them, then wrapped itself around him. The light was warm, and he felt almost as if something was rifling around his insides. Zebediah opened his mouth, maybe to scream, maybe to tell her to go away. As he did so, the light suddenly died, and he crashed down to the floor. It was a painful reminder that he was naked.
When her eyes fell to Melanie, the curiosity there made Zebediah panic. "Don't you touch her!" he shouted. "She's mine!"
"Yours," the woman murmured. "Did she get a choice in that?"
He ignored the contemptuous note to her voice. It didn't matter what she thought, anyway. No one else would understand what he felt for Melanie, that their love had to be real. She hadn't known it, that was all. He had unlocked its presence in her mind. She wouldn't smile so sweet or respond so well to his touch otherwise.
"Don't touch her!" Zebediah shouted when the woman reached out for Melanie. She ignored him, so he started struggling against the bonds holding him in place. His panic flared almost instantly, an ugly, awful feeling in the center of his chest. This woman should have been obeying his command. This man should be listening to him, not laughing. They shouldn't be even contemplating Melanie, not with his newfound gift. She was his bride, his love. If anything happened to that...
The woman wiggled her fingers, red light curling around them and then floating across to Melanie's prone form. Ignoring his shouting, the light wrapped around her head and neck, sinking into her skin. She watched as Melanie twitched violently, her eyes shooting open and jaws stretching wide in a silent scream. Turning over, Melanie didn't notice that she was naked. She was too busy taking in her surroundings, with the look of someone just waking up from a series of long dreams. The man and woman attacking Zebediah didn't leer at her, at least, but they noticed the growing look of horror in Melanie's eyes. She looked at Zebediah, then the others, and started to scream, yanking a sheet to cover her nakedness.
"I take it this wasn't a voluntary bout of isolation?" the man asked in dry tones.
Melanie looked at him helplessly. "What's going on? Why am I here?" There was a faint note of hysteria in her voice, and Zebediah wanted to soothe it away. She shouldn't be worried about these strangers, about what was going on around her. She should be content, satisfied with his love for her, secure in the knowledge that he would take care of her.
But no, these people had just ruined everything.
The woman shot Zebediah another nasty look that he ignored. She moved over to Melanie's side and quietly sat beside her. "We're here to help," she began slowly, careful not to touch Melanie without permission from her. That was good, but she should have asked Zebediah. Not that he was going to give it to her, the interloper.
She looked over at the man when she realized that Melanie was staring at Zebediah, a look of horror and loathing on her face. Zebediah wanted to erase it, but he was caught, and something about their demeanor told him that trying anything to change Melanie's mind would not be tolerated at all.
"I'll take care of this."
"Please." He looked vaguely uncomfortable with Melanie's emotional outburst as she started crying, the sheet twisted nervously in her hands. When he looked at Zebediah, it felt as though he was staring into the abyss of Hell itself.
The ladies moved to a different room in the apartment, and Melanie covered her nudity so that Zebediah couldn't see her precious body any longer. Damn these two for ruining everything!
"You should know that commanding someone to obey your sexual cravings doesn't make it love. It doesn't mean there is genuine concern over your wellbeing. It doesn't mean you have any emotional connection at all."
The condemnation stung. "Melanie loves me."
"Not without your coercion. And if it's coerced, it's rape. It isn't love at all."
Zebediah deflated. "I love her. And she loves me. Melanie loves me..."
"Don't delude yourself," the man sneered. He made a slashing motion with his hand as there was a bright scarlet light off to the side where the woman had disappeared with Melanie.
Zebediah wanted to scream. His entire dream was falling down around him.
The slashed air revealed another location through it. Magic. There was a woman with dark hair in a business suit at a desk, going through piles of paperwork, an aggrieved expression on her face. "I found him. Chemical exposure altering pheromones and acoustics in his voice so that he had the power of suggestion."
She was about to reply when she noticed Zebediah's bound form. Frowning, she flicked her eyes at the man. "I assume you took care of that, Trickster?"
Trickster smirked. "I let my apprentice do that. The Scarlet Witch. She did lovely work. The compulsive powers have been stripped and erased from all existence. It sometimes takes an extra touch to remove the compulsion from victims, and she's with one of them now."
The woman frowned at Trickster. "A victim? You mean there's one there?"
Zebediah snarled at Trickster. "Melanie loves me. She loves me."
"And would she love you if you hadn't compelled her? Would she stay if you didn't desire her to?" the Trickster asked him. The woman through the portal watched, gaze sharp and assessing, waiting for Zebediah's answer.
But he couldn't answer. They all knew what it would be.
"I'll bring him in. The Scarlet Witch is with Melanie now. I believe she'll need to speak with one of your counselors. It would be fairly traumatic to realize all that happened."
The woman seemed impressed with the Trickster. "Rather empathetic of you."
"I am capable of such things on occasion," he replied haughtily. But apparently he had no such empathy for Zebediah, because he whirled around, grasped him by the arm and hurled him through the portal so that he landed at the brunette's feet. "You know what to do with such trash, Agent Hill. I will teach the Scarlet Witch the trick of portals, and we'll bring Melanie to you separately, if you don't mind."
"Not at all," Agent Hill replied. When she looked down at Zebediah, he got a chill that had nothing to do with his nakedness. "There's enough with this case right now. Tell her to take all the time she needs, and we'll debrief you both afterward."
The Trickster's grin was sharklike, sharp teeth flashing. It would haunt Zebediah's nightmares for years to come.
***
Closing her eyes, Selene could reach out and feel the shift of magic and psychic energies; something odd was happening on that realm. Sparks were setting off cascades of magic and dangerous activities. That world didn't really value magic anyway. They wouldn't even care if it was gone, rather like the people of Jotunheim. Midgard was as good a place as any to begin siphoning off energies again. Not because she had to, mind, but because she wanted to, and the realm was bursting at the seams with fools that couldn't value the life that the Norns had given them. She might as well take it from them.
It would indeed be delicious.
The End