Fearless Ch 8

A HEAVY GIFT

FEARLESS IMMORTALS CHAPTER EIGHT

~44th Floor, Stark Tower Two~

Day 4 on Earth, 5 am.

The ridiculously powerful air conditioning from the vent over her borrowed bed sent a blast of frigid air under the sheets, causing them to waft up, and Sigyn awoke with a gasp, pulling her legs up to cradle them with her arms.  Shivering from the cold, she turned on her other side to scoot closer to Loki.  She frowned when all she found was a rumpled expanse of bed linens.  The lack of his body heat must have been why she’d awakened.  Not that he provided much heat, but he could at least shield one side of her body from the cold air.  

Rubbing her arms furiously, she pushed up from the bed and went straight to the shopping bags on the floor.  She dropped to her knees, feeling around blindly inside of one for something warm to put over the thin camisole she’d worn to bed.  Hearing the bathroom door open, she looked over her shoulder to see Loki rubbing his eyes, a pair of dark sweatpants slung low on his hips.  She eyed him up and down with an approving grin then turned back to the bag grumpily.  Good gods, even the fire under her skin wasn’t a match for Stark’s ventilation system.  Okay, technically of course it was, but she didn’t feel like using that much energy when she was still groggy with sleep.

“Good morning, love,” Loki whispered, pulling a heather grey t-shirt over his head as he walked to her.

She groaned in response, finally finding the sweater she’d been looking for.  Feeling him kneel behind her, she leaned back against him as his arms wrapped around her shoulders in a loose embrace.  She turned her head to kiss his cheek, which was surprisingly smooth for this hour.  He’d already shaved?  How long had he been awake?  She shrugged, not really caring.

“I can’t say good morning when it isn’t even dawn yet,” she mumbled, her sleepy gaze moving to the window.  The sky was still dark, the city lights giving off a hazy glow.

He hummed and let her go so she could slip the sweater over her head.  He then pulled her to her feet, and she turned around to give him a proper hug.  Leaning her cheek against his chest, hearing his steady heartbeat, she sighed heavily.  She wasn’t just grumpy due to the early hour or the damn air conditioning.  No, he was leaving today, and it had her stomach in knots.  She rolled her eyes.  For Hel’s sake, it was only one day—Get it together, you big baby.

“Morning or not,” he whispered into her hair, holding her a little more tightly, “he needed to go while it was still dark.”

She sighed, her shoulders slumping, then his words clicked in her head, and her eyes went wide. “He needed to go?”

Looking up at him, she squinted in the dark.  Sure enough, there was a sliver of green rather than blue iris around his pupils, and he looked almost apologetic.  Almost.  Eyes sliding closed, she let her forehead fall to his chest.

“He couldn’t have said goodbye at least?” she mumbled into the fabric of his shirt.

Two smiled and placed a kiss on top of her head. “He could have.  But you probably wouldn’t have let him go, which is positively ridiculous because I’ll take excellent care of you, and I’ll be incredibly good looking while I do it.” She snorted and pulled him down and kissed his cheek. “Oh come now,” he said, grabbing her chin gently and fixing her with a playful glare. “Give us a proper kiss.”

“It feels wrong kissing you when Loki isn’t here,” she whispered as he moved in to slant his lips over hers.

She moaned in spite of herself when his hand came up to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair.  He smiled against her lips triumphantly at the sound and pulled back to place a kiss on her nose.  He dropped his hand from her hair.

“Don’t feel bad, Sig,” he said, running his hand down her arm and lacing his fingers with hers and leading her into the bathroom. “Remember…. he feels what I feel.”

Laughing quietly, she ran a hand through her sleep-mussed hair as he turned the shower on for her.  She forgotten that Loki would experience Two’s sensations.  That certainly eased her guilty conscience about wanting to pounce on the man in front of her.  And to be fair, it was hard to remember that he wasn’t Loki.  Gazing up at the ceiling, her mind wandered to where he was and what body he was inhabiting.  No doubt he didn’t want her to know so she wouldn’t somehow be caught in even more of a lie.  She returned her eyes to Two, watching as he pressed buttons on the digital panel, inputting just the right setting for water pressure and temperature.  She frowned then, remembering that the even the sun was still asleep.  She crossed her arms.

“Hold on,” she said, and he turned around, eyebrows raised in question, “why am I getting a shower?  I only got up because I was cold from being alone in the bed and because that damn vent is right above it, so I needed more clothes.  It’s so early, Two….”

She trailed off when he held a finger to his lips.  He held his hand out to her, two fingers beckoning her forward.  Looking between his outstretched hand and his face, she walked to him with slightly narrowed eyes.  Pulling her to him, he whispered lowly.

“You have to call me Loki, remember?” He snaked his arms around her waist and leaned down to kiss the sensitive skin under her jaw.  She squirmed against him with a laugh, her thoughts of bed disappearing.  She felt him smile against her neck. “I don’t recall you being so ticklish,” he said, poking her in her ribs.  

She laughed harder, pushing his hands away. “The last time we spent any real amount of time together, we were quite otherwise occupied.  There was definitely no tickling.”

Raising an eyebrow, he smirked, and in one swift movement, he grabbed her by the waist and pushed her into the shower, his body caging her against the tiled wall.

Two!” she shrieked, spitting out water and pushing her now wet hair out of her face as her clothes became completely drenched under the spray.

He clamped his hand over her mouth and whispered harshly, “Dammit, woman, it’s Loki.”

“Ugh, sorry,” she sputtered as he pulled her soaked sweater and camisole over her head simultaneously.

His eyes raked over her hungrily, and he grabbed the back of his shirt, pulling it off as well.  Kissing down her neck, he ran a hand down her thigh and pulled it up, hooking it around his hip.

“By Hel, did you not get enough last night?” she gasped.  She wanted more sleep, and yet here she was, letting him have his way with her.  Gods, he had her wrapped—As though she didn’t already know that, and as though she wasn’t happy to oblige.

“Sig,” he groaned her name against her throat, “darling, I didn’t get anything last night.”

“Oh right,” she bit her lip as he kissed further down her chest.

“Did I not tell you I would take care of you?” he said, bringing his mouth back to hers.

She hummed. “Do not pretend you’re doing this for my sake.”

He laughed against her mouth, a deep rumbling sound that bounced off the walls. “Touché, my dear.  Touché.”


~58th Floor, Stark Tower Two~

Same day, 6 am.

“Where are you going?  At this hour?  On a Sunday?” Pepper sat up in bed, eyeing Tony who was pulling a hooded sweatshirt over his head.

His back was to her, and he glanced at her in the mirror, not altogether surprised that he hadn’t been able to slip away unnoticed, though he’d hoped that maybe he would.  He had a meeting, a highly classified meeting.  He hated keeping secrets from Pepper, but he had no choice about this one.

“Going for an early run,” he said with a smile, knowing she wouldn’t buy it for a second.

“Ah,” she said, pursing her lips. “Finally taking my advice to get those endorphins going first thing in the morning, hm?”

He turned to face her and nodded. “Exactly.”

Obviously she knew he was bullshitting her, but it was considerate (and smart) of her not to question him further.  He’d told her what little he could about the vibranium shield for the tesseract yesterday afternoon.  He’d then told Loki and Sigyn last night over a pizza that Loki had devoured even faster than Steve Rogers could, and that old man was from freaking Brooklyn.  Sigyn, on the other hand, had passed out on his couch after exactly one slice.  Girl just couldn’t hold her pizza.

To be honest, Tony hadn’t really minded that she’d fallen asleep.  He’d actually preferred it.  It had given him a chance to talk more to Loki.  He hated to admit it, but he found himself actually liking the guy.   He was kind of brilliant.  Okay, that was an understatement.  Loki would’ve graduated summa cum laude at any Ivy League school, and he probably would’ve done so in a quarter of the time most humans could.  

Tony had practically bounced in his seat like an over excited toddler on an airplane as he’d picked Loki’s brain about the tech on Asgard, which had sounded like an odd combination of superior intelligence and medieval weaponry, as though Game of Thrones met Star Trek and had a baby.  It had been fascinating to Tony, despite Loki shrugging through most of the conversation, looking incredibly bored by the subject.  His highness had steered them toward talking about his magic instead, which was so unbelievably weird to Tony.  He’d never been a believer of anything other than science, but when his bottle of pale ale had continually refilled itself right before his eyes, it was hard not to marvel at what Loki could do with just a slight twist of his wrist.  Tony had smirked and asked where the hell the smoke and mirrors were, to which Loki had looked genuinely confused before pulling a mirror and cigarette out of thin fucking air and handed both to him.  The mind boggled.

Some time around eleven, Loki had said he needed to get Sigyn to bed.  Tony had made a sex joke about that because he’d lost his filter (what little of one he had to start) after the third beer, and then he’d had a moment of fear that maybe he had crossed a line.  To his relief, Loki had just chuckled quietly.  Thank god he had a sense of humor, and hadn’t resorted to murdering Tony on the spot.  They needed more humor around here, especially since Cap had been around earlier and most of Tony’s jokes went straight over his should be gray head.  Then again, maybe he did get the jokes, but just didn’t think they were funny.  And since the latter was more likely, that officially made Steve Rogers duller than crappy netflix without chill.  Had he been like that back in the 40s?  Or was it just the sadness associated with being a man out of time?  Tony sighed as he sat down to tie his shoes.  He needed to lighten up on the guy.  Cap probably just needed a pal.  Nah.  He needed to get laid.  

Pepper watched Tony, seemingly having a silent conversation with himself, and scooted to the edge of the bed, wrapping her arms around him from behind.  She thought by now she’d be used to his mysterious outings or the lack of information that he could give her, but it never failed to leave her with a bad feeling.  Every time he left, the ‘ will this be the time he doesn’t come back ’ question plagued her.  Despite the anxiety, she knew it was pointless to ask.  Why couldn’t she just have a normal not superhero boyfriend?  Because she loved him, that’s why.

“Just be careful,” she whispered against his cheek.

“Always, Pep.” He turned around to give her a lingering kiss then left.  She ran a hand through her hair and waited until she heard the sound of the elevator doors closing before she pulled the covers back up, thinking she probably wouldn’t be lucky enough to get any more sleep.


~To Corral Canyon and Back~

Tony took a left out of the tower’s underground parking garage on the corner of South Olive and West 8th in his perfectly reasonable black S5 Cabriolet Prestige.  Well, in comparison to what he’d dropped for his far less conspicuous R8 Spyder that he’d been enjoying since April, it was extremely reasonable.  Considering he was a billionaire, an Audi was nothing.  It’s not like it was a McLaren or a Pagani, for god’s sake.  

He pulled onto the 110, glad that it was early on a Sunday, so it wasn’t it’s usual clusterfuck trying to get to the 10.  It was about forty minutes to Corral Canyon in Malibu, then up Mesa Peak Motorway a bit, then he would take a mile hike uphill to the agreed upon meeting place.  Thank god he was in good shape, and it wasn’t too terribly hot.  73 degrees with a nice breeze and decent cloud cover was certainly doable.  He pressed his lips together, nervous as hell.  Thinking about the nice weather and how much he may or may not sweat and if he should leave his jacket in the car was only an attempt to ignore the ball of anxiety that had settled into the pit of his stomach.  

Tony checked his mirrors for the thousandth time (no one was following him, right?) as he made the final turn and pulled off the shoulder near the start of Backbone Trail into the cover of the thick trees.  It was one of the less populated trails in the greater Los Angeles area, but that didn’t mean he felt easy about any of this.  He’d been chewing his lip raw all the way here thinking the best way to explain the sudden appearance of a shield to the others was to have Sigyn lie and say she’d done it.

Problem was, Jane knew it wasn’t Sigyn.  Pepper knew it wasn’t Sigyn.  Loki knew it wasn’t Sigyn.  And obviously Sigyn knew.  That was a hell of a lot of mouths to talk.  Why hadn’t he gotten his story straight first?  It would have been so easy to have Sigyn take credit for the shield.  ‘Look!  Magical Fire Princess has saved us!’  See?  How hard would that have been?  He rolled his eyes, pulling the straps of his backpack over his shoulders, kicking himself for not thinking this through.  His brain hadn’t been firing on all cylinders since Catalina.

Focus, Tony, focus.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed the self deprecation aside in favor of the matter at hand.  King T’Chaka was sending some of ‘Wakanda’s finest’ to meet Tony (and Tony alone) to hand over the shield.  He checked his watch.  One hour.  He had one hour to get to the meeting point.  He swiped away the sweat beading on his forehead with the back of his hand, thinking how much easier it would’ve been to use his suit to just fly here.  Plus, it would’ve given him a chance to test out the water resistance of his own new version of Under Armour.  He hadn’t come up with a name for it yet.  ‘Under Stark’ really had a ring to it, though maybe Pep wouldn’t be a fan.  ‘Stark Below’?—Nah.  

The ramblings in his head continued.  They had to.  If he didn’t stop talking silently to himself, he might have a panic attack right here.  He continued checking his six, making the action look innocent.  To anyone looking on, he was a random Sunday hiker in new unfamiliar territory.  Not suspicious at all.  There was a part of his brain, the nervous part, telling him this was a terrible idea and that he needed to turn back and somehow call it off.  Well, that just wasn’t an option.  He’d told Pepper and the others he was handling it, and so he was.  Tony Stark was many things, but coward was not one of them.

So far his experience with Wakanda had been limited to the deal he’d made with T’Chaka to hide some of the vibranium supply in his tower, but it had been T’Chaka who sought him out, not the other way around.  Right now Tony felt like he was a little kid asking his dad for money when he’d done nothing to earn it.  Actually, no, not his dad.  Someone else’s dad.  Point was, he didn’t know the man all that well, and Tony was staking everything on T’Chaka, and Wakanda itself.  Despite his apprehension though, something deep in Tony’s bones told him that there was no place or people more trustworthy than the hidden African country.  So he was going with his gut.

It was nearly 7:30 when he came to the bench hidden far behind the trees away from the decidedly dead trail.  Reaching into his backpack, he fumbled for the peanut butter Cliff bar he’d thrown into it before he left.  He ripped the plastic apart and bit about half the bar off in one chunk and chewed slowly, thinking he probably should’ve taken a smaller bite.

“Which one of us would you like to save you if you choke on that?” a deep accented voice quipped from behind him.

Tony nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound and did indeed choke on his too big bite.  He ended up violently spitting some of it out into his hand as his eyes watered.  Turning around, he gave a little wave and pushed his sunglasses up into his hair to get a better look at them in the shade of the trees.  That, and he didn’t want the sunglasses to hide his eyes from them.  Nothing said ‘you really shouldn’t trust me’ quite like hiding one’s eyes.  Say something, you jackass, screamed a voice in his head as he gaped stupidly at the three Wakandans standing in front of him.  Two beautiful, and obviously strong (see: intimidating) women flanked a man who Tony refused to admit might just be more handsome than he was.  It was obvious that the man had been the one who’d spoken, so Tony gave him a smile before nodding to the women as well.

“Tony Stark,” he said, standing from the bench, offering his hand to them.

The man looked down at Tony’s hand then back up at his face with an apologetic smile. “I would apologize for not shaking your hand properly, Mr. Stark, but the remains of your food are on it.”

“Oh right,” Tony chuckled and retracted his hand, brushing it against the side of his pants.  Gross.

The man placed his hand over his heart and gave a quick bow of his head. “I am T’Chaka’s son.  T’Challa.  I am accompanied by Okoye,” he gestured to the woman on his left, who gave the same slight bow of her head, “who is general of our Dora Milaje and Wakandan armed forces, and Nakia,” he nodded to the woman on his right, “who is a warrior in her own right, vital to Wakandan security.”

Nakia looked directly at T’Challa and whispered, “Ujeka njengengulube.  Ingaba yimisipha okanye ubushushu?  Ngaba simthembe ngokwenene?” (He is sweating like a pig.  Is it nerves or the heat?  Can we trust him?)

Tony frowned, shifting his stance as T’Challa laughed in response to what she had said. “Ubawo uyamthemba, ngoko nathi simele simthembe.  Wonke umntu uyamkhathaza ngeentombi ezintle ezifana nawe,” T’Challa said, gesturing to her face. (My father trusts him, so we should, too.  Every man is nervous around beautiful women like you.)

At that, her big brown eyes narrowed. “Ndingaphezulu kunokuba ndibukeka njani.” (I am more than what I look like.)

T’Challa rolled his eyes and sighed. “Akunjalo oko ndithetha.” (That is not what I meant.)

“Kutheni ungathethi ukuba uthini na?” Nakia whispered harshly, leaning closer. (Why do you not say what you do mean?)

Straightening her shoulders, Okoye raised an eyebrow at their argument.  Her grip on the handle of the case she’d been holding tightened.

Growing more uncomfortable with each second, Tony cleared his throat. “If what you’re saying is something I need to know, I’m gonna need a translation here.  They don’t offer Wakandan as a course in school over here.” He ended his remark with a playful smile.  It didn’t do him any favors though.

“What I said is of no consequence to you, Mr. Stark,” Nakia said, her tone clipped as she returned her eyes to his face, “and I doubt being taught our language in school would have helped you.”

Nakia,” T’Challa chided, “we are not here to insult Mr. Stark.”

“It was not an insult, only an observation,” she said, lifting her chin.

From his other side, T’Challa heard Okoye sigh.  He was surprised that she hadn’t added her two cents to the conversation.

Tony chuckled, nodding his head in agreement.  “Don’t worry,” he held his hands up, “I’m not insulted anyway.”

“American arrogance,” Okoye muttered so lowly that only T’Challa heard it.  He reached up to scratch his nose, hiding a smile behind his hand.  There it was.

Two cents.  Added.

Watching the exchange between Nakia and T’Challa, Tony’s nerves calmed somewhat.  Whatever she had said might have been pretty harsh, but the whole thing made the royal and warriors less intimidating.  If there was anything Tony could relate to, it was riffs with attractive females.  Taking his sunglasses off his head and running a hand through his hair, he took a few steps forward.

“I believe you have something for me?” He looked pointedly at the case in Okoye’s hand.

“Yes,” T’Challa answered, nodding at Okoye.  She then brought the case up in front of her and held it out horizontal to her body.

“Simele siphuthume,” Nakia breathed, eyes flicking around at all sides. (We must hurry.)

“Ewe ewe.  Kwesibini.  Kwesibini,” T’Challa nodded, opening the case carefully to reveal the contents. (Yes yes.  One second.  One second.)

T’Challa motioned for Tony to come closer, and so he did, keeping his eyes on the vibranium shield inside.  He was vaguely aware of Nakia coming closer, caging him between the three Wakandans.  It was a sleek thing; a cube smooth as marble, shiny and black, with thin white tribal markings etched into it.  It seemed too small, somehow, which he knew was ridiculous because T’Chaka had delivered the exact specs of the tesseract to their technology expert who had engineered the thing in no time flat.

“May I?” Tony raised his eyebrows in question as he reached toward it.

“Of course,” T’Challa said with a small smile.

Tony carefully removed it from the protective foam as though it were a loaded gun, inspecting it without putting it too close to his face. “It’s lighter than it looks, for sure,” he paused, weighing it in the palm of one hand and tracing the edges with his forefinger. “Not that I’m questioning its quality or ability, but it-”

“It is big enough, I assure you,” T’Challa said, cutting him off.

“That’s what she-” Tony stopped short, shaking his head.  Now really wasn’t the time to make sex jokes for god’s sake, what with two women, who he was fairly sure could beat his ass to Mars and back, standing right there.  He cleared his throat.

“I wish I could say thank you in person to the designer,” Tony said, turning it over, confused as to how to open the damn thing. “He must be brilliant, whoever he is.”

She is,” Okoye piped up, raising an eyebrow when Tony jumped slightly at the sound of her voice. “And she is only twelve for that matter.”

Tony gaped.  Twelve?  Some kid made this?  “Wow,” he managed after he picked his jaw up off the ground finally, “that’s amazing.  Can’t imagine what that kid will be doing when she grows up.”

“I would not refer to Princess Shuri as ‘that kid’ for future reference, Mr. Stark,” Nakia said curtly, keeping her eyes on their surroundings. “She is owed much respect.”

Tony suppressed an eyeroll at her tone.  How the hell was he supposed to know that it had been a little royal prodigy who made this?  Wakanda was more secretive about the nature of their ways than a gay Republican congressman still in the closet.  He didn’t appreciate being looked down on, but whatever.  He’d been friendly and wasn’t going to be anything less just because he felt a little defensive now.  It was clear they were every bit on edge as he was, and he couldn’t really fault them for it, especially not being on their own turf.  It was probably Nakia’s job to question everyone just as she was questioning Tony.  No doubt for good reason.

T’Challa reached over and demonstrated how to use the shield. “It opens like so.  Just put the tesseract in carefully, and it will automatically close.”

Tony repeated the action and hummed at how easy it was. “Got it.  Any other instructions, Your Highness?” 

See?—Respect.

“Yes.  Once the tesseract is in the shield, do not take it back out.  Take it where you must, but do not remove it from the shield,” T’Challa said, jaw set, eyes stern.

Tony frowned.  Not that he’d intended to take the tesseract out of it once it was concealed safely, but this new information concerned him.

“What happens if we take it out?”

“The flesh of your face will melt off,” T’Challa said, straight-faced.

Tony’s eyes blew wide, his mouth screwing up, one eyebrow shooting to his hairline. “What?

The corners of T’Challa’s mouth turned up, and his shoulders began shaking with laughter.  Okoye rolled her eyes and shook her head as Nakia fought to keep a straight face but failed.  She had to admit that the expression on Tony Stark’s face was incredibly amusing.  Blowing out a relieved breath, Tony ran a hand down his face, gingerly setting the shield back into the case.  Well, at least now he knew if he were to meet T’Challa again that he could say ‘that’s what she said’ without repercussions.  That is, assuming no women were present.  Maybe.  Or…. hmm.  Okay, maybe not so dirty jokes would be a better call.

“I jest, I jest,” T’Challa said, waving a hand when he had composed himself. “The reason for not removing the tesseract is simply that you will draw attention to it by doing so, and you may very well render the shield useless then.  Not only that, but if attention is drawn to the tesseract, it will then be drawn to the shield, which will then be drawn to Wakanda.  Understood?”

Tony nodded. “Understood.”

Okoye closed the case over the shield and handed the case to him. “There is a fingerprint scanner on this case, which we have not activated.  You need to do it now.” Tony placed his thumb over the scanner, and the locks engaged. “Now open it,” Okoye commanded.  

Tony obeyed, pleased to see the locks click open again.  He repeated the action a few more times just to make sure, nodding when he was satisfied it worked properly and consistently.

“It is now in your hands, Mr. Stark,” T’Challa said. “My father trusts you.  Do not disappoint him.”

Tony closed the case once more and carefully inserted it into his backpack nestled in between the bulletproof foam.  He then pulled the straps over his shoulders and fastened the side release buckles across his chest with a loud click.

“Good luck, Mr. Stark,” T’Challa said.

Tony took a deep breath, and held his head high, the weight of the vibranium shield on his back feeling far heavier than it had felt in his hand.  He knew it wasn’t literally heavy, but the weight of the responsibility he now held was palpable.  For a moment, his mind wandered.  Is this how Cap felt every day?  Overwhelming responsibility to protect?  To serve?  To lay his life down if necessary?  Tony shook it off, suddenly feeling a deep wave of sadness wash over him at the thought.  He set his lips in a straight line.

“Thank you.  I can’t say how important this is, and how grateful I am.  How grateful the world is…. or would be, if they knew, that is,” Tony frowned, wishing he had something to give back in return.  But he had nothing to give back.  It made him feel very small and undeserving.

Nodding once, T’Challa took a step back and turned away, Okoye and Nakia with him.  He then touched a bead on a bracelet, and Tony watched in awe as a triangle shaped aircraft, similar to a quinjet but with two engines at the back underneath it came into view in front of them, hovering just above the ground, whipping up dust and leaves around them.  As they walked up the ramp, it closed behind them.  Tony looked up, watching the jet as it rose high above him and sped away toward the coast.  He had no idea how they could remain undetected on radar, or if they didn’t but had friends in intelligence or military keeping them safe, but he trusted that they knew what they were doing.  Turning on his heel, he sighed and began the long trek back down the trail to his car.


Pulling into one of the parking spaces in his private garage under his tower, Tony killed the engine.  He’d been diligent the whole drive back, checking his mirrors for any tails that might’ve popped up.  None had, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he opened the door and stepped out of the car.

“Welcome back, Sir,” Jarvis greeted him as he grabbed his backpack from the passenger side.

“Hey, Jarvis.  How are things?” He strolled to the elevator, the doors opening automatically for him as he neared it.  He stepped in, letting his head fall back onto the back wall as the quick ascent began to the penthouse. “Anything I need to know about, that is.”

He checked his watch.  9:30.  On a Sunday.  Most everyone had probably crawled out of bed by now, but there would be no bustling about yet.  More likely everyone was still draining their first cups of coffee.

“No, Sir.  Nothing to report.”

Tony nodded, relieved.  He still felt on edge, but some of the anxiety had eased up.  He doubted it would be gone completely until Loki and Sigyn were back in Asgard, the tesseract with them.  It only took a minute to reach the 58th floor, and he let out a heavy sigh as the doors opened to reveal the common area of his penthouse, sunbeams streaming through the windows bathing the space in glowing soft yellow light, like those incandescent bulbs he never used anymore, because ‘green is clean’, right?  Tony removed the Ray Bans from his head as he strolled into the kitchen toward the smell of fresh coffee.  Pulling his backpack off with care, as though its contents might break as easily as a champagne flute, he set it on the island and stared at it, worrying his bottom lip.

Maybe he could still get Sigyn on board.  Maybe it wasn’t too late.  He hung his head, unbelievably angry with himself for telling Jane yesterday that he didn’t need Sigyn’s help anymore.  Pipsqueak had probably already blabbed to Erik.  Running a hand through his hair, he laughed humorlessly.  God, he’d kept a highly classified ally under wraps with success for near a decade, and now he just might have blown it.

“Genius,” he mumbled under his breath, pouring coffee into his favorite mug, the one that his buddy Bruce Banner had given him last Christmas.  Kermit the Frog wearing a Santa hat proclaimed ‘it isn’t easy being green! ’ across the black ceramic.  He snorted at the memory of Bruce bursting out laughing and saying “get it?” when he’d pulled it out of the gift bag.

“Uh, yes, Bruce.  I get it,” Tony had said, running his hand down his face. “Though how the hell I didn’t find this and give it to you first is a mystery, and I’m thoroughly pissed off with myself now for only giving you a dumbass sweater with the periodic table on it.”

Banner gestured to said sweater, which he was now wearing and started singing. “Oh chemist tree, oh chemist tree, thou copper limbs are silvery, when silver gains electrons free, no longer ions will they be….”

The memory of the impromptu carol faded, and Tony chuckled sadly as he set the carafe back into its cradle.  It was late September now, which meant it had been nearly a year since he’d seen Bruce.  That Christmas party with his closest friends had been one of the rare moments when Bruce had seemed at ease, for once not beating himself up over the damage the ‘other guy’ had done.  God, the man had literally been joking about being a ‘not so jolly green giant’.  Then Bruce had gone off the grid, leaving Tony completely in the dark as to his whereabouts ever since.  Sure, Bruce had called him a few times to check in, but it had been from pre-paid phones that didn’t even have GPS on them, like some sort of octogenarian.  Screwing up his face, Tony hung his head.  He missed his friend.  Tons, apparently.

“So is that the shield?”

“GOD!” Tony flinched so violently at the question that he dropped his coffee, watching in horror as the ceramic collided with the granite counter and broke into seven very lonely pieces. “Oh no no no no no no,” he whispered, trying to hold back tears (dear god was he really crying over this?) as he picked the pieces up and attempted to put them back together like a 3D jigsaw puzzle of sadness.

“Oh Tony,” Pepper said, her voice full of contrition as she came up next to him and grabbed a dish towel from a drawer. “I’m so sorry.” She carefully wiped the spilled coffee from the counter and bent to grab the granite cleaner from under the sink, watching as Tony continued to frown at the broken mug, holding the pieces together as best as he could. “I didn’t meant to scare-”

“It’s fine, Pep,” he said quickly, sniffing loudly.

Shit, this was embarrassing.  He sniffed again to hold back the disaster happening in his mucous membranes.  It was official.  He’d need to rename his alter ego because there was nothing iron about crying over a broken mug.  You’d think Bruce was dead for this response.  Which he wasn’t.  Right?  Right?  Tony had a nanosecond of panic before he shut it down.

Shaking the anxiety out of his head, he gathered the pieces in his hands and gestured at the trash compactor under the counter. “Here, open that up.”

Pepper shook her head. “We can glue it back together or something.”

Tony sighed. “Pep, it’s ruined, alright?  It’s just a mug.  I’ll get another one.”

“Another one that Bruce didn’t give you,” she said giving him a pointed look, and he dropped his eyes because tears were forming again.

Dammit.

“Tony, listen.  I know that it won’t be usable as an actual drinking mug again, but we can absolutely glue it back together, and I don’t know, it can be a paper weight or pencil holder or whatever.” She waved a hand. “Either way, you’re not throwing it away, okay?”

Tony sighed, carefully setting the broken pieces back down to rest haphazard on the counter. “Okay.”

Frowning at him, she waited a beat before saying, “It’s okay to be sentimental, Tony.”

Blowing out a heavy breath, he turned away.  He didn’t feel like explaining that this was way more than just being sentimental.  Ever since this morning, after meeting with T’Challa and Okoye and Nakia, Tony felt emotionally spent and heavy, as though a great burden rested on his shoulders now that he had been given this precious thing to carry and keep safe.  

God, he sounded like Frodo with the ring.  Well, not really.  He wasn’t the one who would make the journey to Mount Doom.  That was Loki and Sigyn’s job.  Not that they were in any way remotely similar to hobbits.  Loki was annoyingly tall for starters.  And Asgard wasn’t equivalent to Mordor.  So who would be the orcs in this scenario?  Oh SHIELD, for sure.  And Big Bad was Sauron.  Tony raised an eyebrow.  Well then, if he wasn’t Frodo, he had to be Aragorn obviously—Handsome fellow that he was.  That would make Pepper…. Arwen?  Hell no.  Pep was an Eowyn to the core.  He ran his hands down his face.  Why was his mind wandering around Middle Earth when he had bigger fish to fry?  Namely, stopping the end of the world?

The ice maker surged to life loudly two feet from him, and once again he flinched at the sudden sound.  Why the hell was he so damn jumpy?  He was used to being calm under pressure, and right now, he was anything but, and it was one of the shittiest things he’d ever felt.  Maybe he had an old script for Ativan lying around.  He rolled his eyes at the thought.  Yeah, there’s an idea.  Take a damn benzo while you have a tesseract being chased by an extraterrestrial evil overlord.  Actually, there was an idea.  If Big Bad did indeed make it to Earth, introduce him to Xanax.  Maybe Fentanyl—Lots of it.  Just a thought.

He eyed Pepper, who was placing the broken mug pieces in separate ziplock bags. “Hey,” he said, tapping his chin thoughtfully, “do you know if Pipsqueak, I mean Jane, sorry, mentioned the whole ‘we don’t need Sigyn because Tony has friends in secret places’ thing?”

Pepper frowned. “I don’t know, but I’ll text her to see.  Why?” She turned to walk down the hallway to get her phone from the charger in their bedroom.

Tony followed her. “Well, if she didn’t tell anyone, then I want Sigyn to take credit for making the shield.”

“Ah,” she said, nodding her head as she texted Jane. “Makes sense.  I know I didn’t say a word about it.”

“That’s my girl.” Tony smiled.

Her phone chimed then. “Good news,” Pepper flashed a toothy smile and held her phone up to him so he could read the text. “Jane went straight to her condo yesterday after you told us it was taken care of, and she’s been asleep the whole time.” She made a face then, feeling bad for having woken Jane when the woman was clearly exhausted.

Tony let out an exaggerated sigh of relief and gave her a thumbs up. “Thank God.  Okay.  Good.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I need to call Loki.” He went back into the kitchen to get his phone from his backpack.

“Why don’t you just call Sigyn?  She’s the one who you’re putting all this on.  Loki’s just a middle man,” Pepper hurried after him.

“Eh,” Tony shrugged, bringing up Loki’s number and putting the phone to his ear, “he’s easier to talk to.”

Pepper raised an eyebrow. “I couldn’t disagree more.”  

Tony put his finger to his lips, and she raised her hands in surrender, pointing over her shoulder with her thumb, silently telling him she’d be in the other room.  He gave her an ‘okay’ sign just as he heard Loki answer.

“Morning, Stark.”

“Hey, man,” Tony said, lowering his voice, “so that thing we talked about last night….” he trailed off, waiting for Loki to acknowledge he knew what Tony was referring to.  When that didn’t happen, he frowned. “Loki?”

“I’m listening,” was Loki’s deadpan response.

Tony sighed, “Well, you didn’t say anything.”

“You hadn’t finished your sentence so far as I could tell.  Is it not rude to interrupt people mid-sentence on this planet?”

Tony rolled his eyes.  Had he just told Pepper it was easier to talk to Loki?  Why yes, yes he had, and he was taking that back right now.

“Whatever,” he chose to say instead of beginning a time wasting argument with a smug alien god concerning phone etiquette in 2012 in America on planet Earth. “So that thing we talked about last-”

“About the shield?” Loki cut him off, and Tony could hear the smirk in his voice.

“There ya go,” he droned, “yes, that thing.  Well, I need you and Sigyn upstairs to, um, take a look.  Oh and how good of an actress is she?”

“That’s an odd question.  How should I know?”

“Dude, you’re her boyfriend,” Tony said, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you were insanely in love with her?”

“Stop using that insipid term, and yes, I am in love with her,” Loki sighed on the other end. “That doesn’t necessarily mean that I know if she has any theatrical aspirations.”

“Okay, well,” Tony scratched his chin, “how good is she at faking orgasms?”

“Beg your pardon?” Loki’s voice had gone from indifferent to pissed in two seconds.

Tony bit his lip to keep from laughing and repeated himself, punctuating each word. “How. Good. Is. She. At. Faking. Orgasms.”

Loki scoffed. “That is hardly your business, but…. shit…. why am I telling you this…. she doesn’t.”

Tony snorted. “That means she’s a really good actress.  Nice.  I’ll see you in, say, fifteen?”

“Fucking Hel,” he heard Loki mumble. “Fine,” he said after a beat.

“Kay, bye!” Tony chimed, chuckling when he Loki hung up without saying goodbye.  

If only Loki knew how much more satisfying it had been once upon a time to actually hang up on people angrily before cell phones, when you could slam the handset down onto the base.  Tapping a little red circle on a screen that says ‘end call’ was about as satisfying as those orgasms Sigyn was definitely faking.  He cringed.  He’d officially taken the joke too far in his head, and now he was picturing things that he did not want to see.  New policy: just say no to sex jokes.    


~Same Time, 44th Floor~

Two let his head fall back against the headboard after setting his phone, or well, technically Loki’s phone, onto the bedside table as Sigyn appeared in the doorway of the adjoining bathroom.  Perfectly copied green eyes slid over to stare at her through his periphery.  Her black hair fell in messy waves around her face, as though they had just spent the day swimming and lounging in the sun on the white shores of Silver Lake.  She was literally wearing her love of horses on her sleeve with a thin off the shoulder dark grey sweater sporting the faint image of a running horse, the phrase ‘wild hearts can’t be tamed’ across the chest, and, to bring home the point, black denim cut off shorts with pockets in the shapes of horseshoes.  She was leaning against the door frame, one hand on her hip, ankles crossed.  Gods, he wished Loki would let him stay with her longer than just one day.  His eyes dropped lower and lingered appreciatively—Legs for days.

He shook his head and grinned closed mouthed at her.  She returned the grin and waggled her eyebrows.  He opened his mouth to talk, but she held up a hand as she approached him.  Frowning at her as she put her fingers over his lips, he arched his neck to see her better as she leaned over him.

Not that I appreciate Stark asking such inappropriate questions about me, and I certainly hope he has good reason to inquire, but I truly HONESTLY have never ever faked it with Loki.

His eyes went wide and narrowed again ever so slightly as she eyed him up and down.  She finished her thought then.

Or you—She winked then, and he laughed, pulling her fingers away to catch her lips in a quick kiss.

“The shield is upstairs,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her on top of him. “He requested we join him in fifteen minutes.”

Sigyn’s eyes blew wide. “He has it already?  How?  When did he get it?  Who made it?  What does it look like?” She waved a hand. “Why am I asking you?”

“I have no idea,” he chuckled at her rapid fire enthusiasm as she climbed off him and hurried to the living room to look for her shoes. “I’m pleased to see that you seem to have recovered from the distress of someone else creating it though.  I hated seeing you so sad.”

Finding her sneakers discarded near one of the couches, Sigyn sat down to pull the shoes on over no show socks and laughed. “Yes, you hated seeing me sad.  I know how much you hated cheering me up, as well.”

He shrugged, pushing himself up from the bed and going to her. “Just doing what I was instructed to do.”

Smirking, she raised an eyebrow at him. “Taking care of me?”

He nodded with a bright smile. “Correct.” Offering his hand to her, he pulled her to her feet. “How did I do?”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh please, you know damn well how you did.”

“Careful,” he smirked, shifting his eyes around dramatically and lowered his voice, “Loki will become jealous.”

Sigyn’s face fell.  The way he talked about Loki in third person, like he was an entirely different person made her feel like she’d been sleeping around behind his back.  She heard him snort then, and his forefinger came under her chin to lift her face up to meet his eyes.

How many times do I have to remind you that he feels what I feel?

She puffed out her cheeks before blowing out a breathー I just have a hard time wrapping my brain around that.

He snaked his arms around her waistー Trust me, if Loki was actually angry over this, he’d be here in a heartbeat, and I would be nothing but vapor.

Leaning her head on his chest, she sighedーI know but-

Their silent conversation was cut off by the sound of the elevator doors opening.  Two was in front of her, pulling her up against his back protectively in an instant.  Sigyn squirmed out of his too tight grip and stepped back around him, though he still held onto her.  They both watched with narrowed eyes as a petite curvaceous woman with stunning red waves of shoulder length hair strutted into their living room, hips swaying like it was a catwalk and looked them up and down.

“Huh, Tony said you were really good looking.  He wasn’t lying,” she said, her sultry voice as smooth as silk.

Two inclined his head. “I’m surprised a man with Stark’s ego would admit that.  He seemed rather threatened by me a few days ago.”

“I meant her,” the redhead gestured to Sigyn with her chin.

“Course you did,” Two smirked, and the woman returned the look, crossing her arms.

Sigyn rolled her eyes, looking back and forth between the pair who seemed to be in a staring contest.  If she hadn’t already known that Two was a carbon copy of Loki, she for certain would have known now.  That smirk was classic Mischief.

“I absolutely did mean her,” the redhead challenged, raising an eyebrow.

“She was an afterthought, and you know it,” Two tilted his head sideways.

Sigyn scoffed and raised a finger. “First off, stop talking about me like I’m not here, and secondly,” she narrowed her eyes up at Two, “it’s absolutely possible that you were an afterthought, not the other way around.”

Two met her eyes and pursed his lipsーI can read minds just like Loki.

Her eyes widened, and she smacked him in the shoulderーWhat?  Ugh, well it’s rude to listen to people’s thoughts without their consent, for future reference.

Just how do you think I knew exactly what you wanted in the shower, and then twice more after that?ーTwo raised an eyebrow.

Not wanting to give him an inch lest he take a mile, Sigyn suppressed a pleasant shiver at the memory and rolled her eyesー I assumed it was the BOND, but whatever, the point still stands, especially with strangers.

This woman was, IS, a possible threat, and listening to her thoughts was a purely defensive measure, not malicious ーTwo turned back toward the redhead, who had now cocked a hip to the side with a distinct ‘I’m waiting’ expression on her face.

“Are you two done having an actual silent conversation?  Tony said you could read minds,” she said, aiming her gaze at Two. “I didn’t believe him.  Guess I was wrong.”

Two opened his mouth to respond, but she held up her hand. “Me thinking you are an excellent specimen will hardly affect my opinion or treatment of you, Loki.”

His eyebrows raised at that, and he was shocked to find himself actually blushing.  Had she really just called him an excellent specimen?  

“Yes, excellent specimen,” she deadpanned, and Two momentarily wondered if this woman was capable of reading minds, too.  Could humans do that?

Sigyn glared daggers at the far too attractive woman and crossed her arms, itching to set her blazing red hair into a literal blaze with each passing second.  Two put an arm around her waist and rubbed her hip with his thumb, and she set her possessive instinct aside.  For the moment.

He then let go of Sigyn and put a hand in his pocket, the other gesturing to the redhead. “At the risk of sounding like a cliche, who are you and why are you here?”

“I work for Fury.  Natasha Romanoff,” the woman said, walking toward them and flashing a crooked smile.  She held her hand out to Two, and he grasped it.

“Loki,” he said, dropping her hand.

She then offered her hand to Sigyn, but pulled it back hesitantly before she could shake it. “You’re not gonna burn me for that little exchange are you,” Natasha said, her cat-like green eyes narrowing.

Sigyn snorted, rolling her eyes. “I hardly need to touch you to burn you.”

Natasha pursed her lips, arching one perfect eyebrow. “Pleased to meet you, too.” She turned on her heel and said over her shoulder. “I know Tony said fifteen, but plans change.” She entered the elevator and turned to face them. “Join me, will you?” It wasn’t a question.

THE FRIGID IMMORTALS TRILOGY

A LOKI+SIGYN FANTASY SERIES

FEARLESS CONTINUES IN CHAPTER NINE: SICK AND TIRED

Visit the Trilogy main page HERE.

Chapter links: 1 You’ll Have Answers Later 2 Talk Some Sense to Me, Sig. 3 Interlude in Asgard (Endless Grief) 4 Wild Magic (It’s All We Have) 5 Heat is My Specialty (What is Blue For) 6 Storms Pass, Loki. 7 Trust Me, I’ve Got This. 8 A Heavy Gift 9 Sick and Tired 10 Hold On, We’re Going Home (Green Is for Life Part 2) 11 Home is Chaos 12 Looks That Kill 13 Living Ghosts 14 No Rules (Tick Tock) 15 The Calm 16 The Storm

Chapter 17 Coming October 2021

CHAPTER EIGHT THEME SONG:

Chapter Oneby The Crystal Method ft. Teflon Sega

What Readers Have Said

About CH 8 “A Heavy Gift”

“I loved the entire scene with the Wakandans. It was spot on. Nat has better watch herself – I know she can usually take care of herself but a fight with Sig would be our if her league. Don’t mess with the magic users, just ask Sif.”

-Ferbette, on CH 8 “A Heavy Gift”, 26 Jun 2018 (AO3)

“Is that Kermit mug a real thing? Because I would like one. Also your dedication to getting locations correct *chef’s kiss* I don’t live in Cali either so you could 100% just make shit up.”

-Harrypotterfreakie, on CH 8 “A Heavy Gift”, 27 Aug 2021 (AO3)

Please feel free to leave a comment below. Reviews are (almost always *wink*) a source of excitement and humble joy for Jen!

DON’T MISS THE FRIGID IMMORTALS TRILOGY FINALE IN FEARLESS IMMORTALS CHAPTER 17, AVAILABLE November 2021.

Receive instant notifications directly to your inbox when Jen updates her in-progress works, such as the next chapters of Neon Daydreams and Fearless Immortals in November 2021; we’ll let you know when new short stories and multi-chapter works have been posted as well.* To keep up with our latest news (and to just joke around with us), follow the Jen Eowynir Fiction Admin Team’s Twitter account @LokisWriting (previously Jen’s old personal account). As of June 2021, Jen has a new personal-use Twitter. Both are linked in the icons below, along with her other socials.

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