Chapter Text
Living in New York had its ups and downs. The rent was criminally high, but for the right price nobody would ask too many questions. There were overpriced hipster cafes on every corner where the barista would sneer pompously at you for ordering a simple coffee, but there were street vendors and authentic restaurants where you could try cuisine from corners of the world you’d never seen. Yes there were thieves and criminals lurking down alleyways, but there were aspiring artists everywhere you looked as well. She might try your patience and beat down your spirit every so often, but you loved New York. And while the city may never sleep, neither did you. Because there was one other downside to New York. The Superhero’s, specifically….
“Fucking STARK!” You screamed into your pillow, punching blindly at the mattress and imagining it was his annoying face.
You didn’t live that close to Stark Tower but you were evidently on the route the billionaire took to work because every morning you were roused by the loose window panes rattling as he zoomed past. You’d let it go the first time, shrugging it off as a one-time thing. By the second time you were annoyed. Third time and you’d snapped, hurtling out of your bed and climbing onto the window ledge to scream abuse at his receding figure.
“If you can fly, why don’t you fly in the fucking sky instead of past my window, you over-hyped coca cola can?”
“Someone got out of the wrong side of bed.” He teased over his shoulder, using some infuriating piece of tech to project his voice as he flew off, out of hearing range.
The fourth morning, you’d been waiting and as he flew past your window he’d been treated to a bucket of watery crazy glue and pink glitter being hurled at him. Fifth time he’d used a decoy suit to distract you while he pelted you with red and yellow paint filled water balloons. Sixth time you’d waited on the street and watched him fly overhead, using a self-designed system to set off a symphony of airhorns in your apartment, cackling as you saw him nearly fall out of the sky in fright. Seventh morning, you were served an eviction notice. Eighth morning, Stark bought the building and lowered your rent to a much more reasonable price.
Stretching your jaw in your best boa constrictor impression to yawn loudly you flipped the covers off and stumbled blindly to the window and prised it open. The upside to being on Iron Mans commute was waiting on your windowsill, like it had been since the day you’d signed your new rent agreement. Pulling the brown paper bag in through the window you rummaged through it, opting to grab the disposable coffee cup first, leaving the bagel for after your shower.
Yeah, living in New York had its ups and downs. You had a Superhero for an alarm clock, but at least he always brought you breakfast.
And with your new rent agreement, came perks. Or as Tony put it, assurance that you would be able to afford your rent. When he poked around your history and discovered you had minor computer skills, he offered you a job in Stark Industries. It was a well-paying job, but it came with co workers and you were not a people person, so you hacked his AI and changed your job title, giving yourself a fancy new lab while you were at it. When he realised what you’d done, he was so impressed you’d managed it that he said you’d earned the promotion. So now you had a rent controlled apartment, an awesome boss and a lab you only had to share with one other person. Luckily, the intern wasn’t full time and didn’t come in until 3:40pm.
You spent the day writing lines of code and fixing stray bugs, watching the clock. The highlight of your day was always when Peter arrived. Right on time you heard the elevator ding and swivelled around in your chair to grin enthusiastically at the door.
“Baby! There’s a baby in the lab!” You yelled dramatically.
Peter rolled his eyes so loudly you could almost hear it.
“Who’s child is this?” You demanded, looking around in concern.
“You’re not even that much older than me.” He huffed, shrugging his backpack off and letting it drop onto the ground with an unnaturally loud thud.
“I’m old enough to legally drink, you impertinent brat.” You informed him, leaning sideways to frown suspiciously at his backpack.
“And your liver knows it.” He sassed.
“Has nobody ever told you that children should be seen and not heard?” You asked coolly.
“I’m a rebel. Down with the status quo.” He shrugged, setting up his tablet.
“Aww, my little anarchist.” You cooed proudly, sliding your chair across the lab to the coffee machine.
“Pour me one? Please,” He begged. “And yes, I am old enough to drink caffeine.” He tacked on before you could crack the joke.
“Rough day at pre-school?” You prodded, obliging his request and pouring several sugar sachets into his cup for him.
“I have to write a 5000 word report on a story from the 1800’s, and we get extra marks for choosing a story nobody else chooses.” He sighed.
“Hmmm, published in the 1800’s or written in the 1800’s?” You asked.
“Um, ‘a work of fiction written during the 1800’s’.” He clarified, thumbing through the assignment and reading it aloud.
“’The Haunted Ceiling’ by H.G Wells? Written in the 1890’s, published in 2016.” You offered, wheeling back across the lab and depositing his coffee on his desk as you slid by.
“That’s… yeah, that’s obscure. Thanks” He agreed, making a note of it.
“Ok, now less homework and more actual work please. I had to fix a few lines of coding in the software for the new Avengers issue StarkPads, but the battery is still acting up.” You informed him, swiping your screen to send him the pertinent files.
“It’s still freezing and dying when you open the Mission Files app?” He frowned.
“Like Jack when Rose wouldn’t share the door.” You confirmed.
“You’re right, you are old.” He snorted.
“I’m not old, you’re just a walking – talking - Rhianna impersonating foetus.” You berated.
“You said you wouldn’t mention that ever again!” He whined, betrayal in his eyes.
“No, I said I wouldn’t tell anybody else, not that I wouldn’t constantly remind you about it.” You grinned smugly.
You had promised not to tell anyone that you’d caught Peter in the lab, dancing his tweeny butt off. But you hadn’t said you wouldn’t send the footage of his enthusiastic and flawlessly executed dance routine to anyone else. You were saving that file for a rainy day .
“Sleeping Beauty, Boss wants to see you.” Friday informed, her crisp tone filtering through the lab.
“On it… Work on the battery and then we can hopefully show our tech babies to Stark.” You instructed Peter, ruffling his hair and you walked past him and out of the lab.
“Friday, send out Little Lamb Alert.” You muttered under your breath as the elevator doors glided open.
“Would the parents of a five year old boy called Peter please report to Human Resources?” Friday announced, her voice being broadcast on every floor of the tower.
“Aww come on!” Peter yelled as the elevator doors closed, cutting off your loud cackling.
“Did you hack Friday just to wind up the kid?” Tony asked as soon as the elevator doors reopened, now on the R&D floors.
“Yip.” You confirmed, sprawling yourself across a lab bench.
“Nicely done.” He commended, tossing you a freeze dried strawberry for your efforts and snorting when you caught it in your mouth like a trained seal.
“What do you want, oh mighty Iron God?” You mumbled, crunching the fruit.
“Did your bagel taste different this morning?” He asked casually.
“No. Why? What did you do? Did you drug me again?” You snapped.
“No, it’s from a new place that’s all. Again?” He frowned.
“Dr Banner told me you were slipping me Vitamins.”
“If you don’t take them like you’re supposed to, you get slipped them like a disobedient puppy.” He reprimanded.
“Did you just infer that I am a naughty bitch?” You smirked, glossing over his bad habit of parenting you.
“See, this is why Pepper won’t let you attend board meetings anymore. You’re not safe to be let out in public.” He said, waving his finger admonishingly.
“You’re no fun. So did you make me come all the way up here just to ask if I enjoyed my bagel?”
“Hey, I am lots of fun. Why else would I call you up here while it’s unguarded?” He asked sagely, putting his hands on your shoulders and using his grip to steer you around so you were looking at…
“Nooooo! Is that? Could it be?” You gasped.
“You’re welcome toots.” He sniggered as you hopped off the bench and sprinted across the lab, stopping in front of the once mythical weapon.
“Myin, moll… Mion… Thor’s Hammer!” You whispered reverently.
“Mjolnir.” Tony said smugly, taunting you.
“She’s beautiful.” You said softly, tracing the lines of the handle.
Maybe it was your imagination, or your own pulse, but you could feel the power humming from it, pulsating like a drumbeat. It was probably rude, but what Thor didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, and you couldn’t have stopped yourself if you wanted to. Wrapping your fingers around the handle firmly, you took a deep breath, letting the deep cloying sense of fate and power surround you. In an almost trancelike state you lifted your arm, raising the hammer into the air.
Or attempted to anyway. What actually happened was the hammer didn’t budge a single millimetre and you nearly dislocated your shoulder in your overconfidence.
“Motherfucker!” You cursed, pouting at Tony, who wasn’t even looking at you.
“Hey! My destiny could be unfolding over here and you’re spray painting a helmet!” You bitched.
“Yeah, I’m not worried about missing anything.” He snorted.
“I could be worthy!”
“Of course. The girl who cheated at Secret Santa so she could buy Parker an Easy bake Oven is going to be worthy of ruling Asgard.” He pointed out.
“I got him and his little friends tickets to Comic Con as well. I’m cheeky, not cruel.” You muttered, using both hands to try and get the hammer to budge.
“Tickets that you hacked the system to buy.” He rebutted.
“I still paid full price, didn’t I? Yes, so shush, you’re turning her against me.” You hissed, covering (where you assumed) the hammers ears were.
You spent at least another ten minutes huffing and groaning while trying to get the hammer to budge, but if anything it felt like it was getting heavier. When the opening notes of ‘Eye of the Tiger’ started thrumming through the lab you raised your middle finger in Tony’s general direction while you huffed to catch your breath. You didn’t give up though, contorting yourself into strange positions in an effort to lift the hammer. At one point you sighed heavily and stomped away, turning back and diving for it, hoping a sneak attack would provide a measure of success.
It didn’t.
Neither did bribery, because apparently hammers didn’t crave stock shares. You even resorted to tickling the hammer, as if that could possibly work. You were considering a blood sacrifice when you heard the elevator doors open and looked up at Tony in alarm.
“Times up Princess.” He said with mock sympathy as the burly figure of Thor lumbered into the lab.
He barely paid your obviously fake casualness any attention, eyes glossing over you as they landed on Tony.
“Stark. Strange said that he helped you create a device of sorts that can temporarily negate magic? There’s a sorceress on Asgard making a nuisance of herself, might I borrow it?” The Thunder God enquired.
“The Muggle Maker? Ask Princess, it was her brain child.” Tony shrugged, pointing at you.
“I helped, it was mostly Banner and Parker, they just needed something to take energy readings and identify magical ripples in the area. I made the chip, they did the tech.” You argued.
“Using technology to identify and negate magic, even temporarily, is no easy feat, do not be modest.” Thor grinned.
You weren’t exactly a stranger to most of The Avengers. Bucky and Steve had carried your couch up thirty flights of stairs because it wouldn’t fit in the elevator (neither of them understood why you kept yelling ‘PIVOT’ at them). Natasha kept leaving daggers and cans of mace in your desk, like a really violent cat bringing gifts. Sam kidnapped you at least three times a week and made you jog with him. Vision spent hours upon hours in your lab, silently watching you and throwing out helpful advice when you got frustrated. Some of them were borderline friends, some just acquaintances, but Thor? You barely knew the Asgardian Prince. You’d met him in passing a handful of times, and while he was friendly enough, he wasn’t exactly on your Christmas card list.
“Alright, I am a genius, bow before me.” You smirked.
He frowned, unsure if you were serious. You rolled your eyes at his unsurity and went rummaging around the lab until you found the case where the Muggle Maker was kept.
“It’s not foolproof, you have about thirty seconds once you turn it on so move quickly.” You warned, passing him the case.
“Understood. Thank you, my lady.” He said gratefully, throwing you a dazzling smile as he took it and turned to leave.
“Forgetting something? Your hammer?” Tony called after him.
Thor turned around and gazed thoughtfully at the hammer on the floor.
“And rob your young friend of her valiant attempts to lift it?” He chuckled, eyeing you knowingly.
“I… wasn’t. It’s just a hammer, I don’t even care, like whatever.” You shrugged.
“Have at it my lady, Mjolnir appreciates stubbornness above all else, you may yet succeed.” He advised, turning his back on you and the hammer.
“She’s not going to be able to lift it, she’s pure evil. Take it before Banner trips over it again.” Tony scoffed.
Thor stopped and looked back, sighing heavily before he trudged back over and reached for the hammer.
“Pity, it almost worked.” He muttered.
You thought he was talking to you, but when he reached past the hammer and wrapped his fingers around your throat instead and you realised he was talking to himself. There was no time to do anything, no way of escaping the vice like grip on your windpipe. One second you were standing talking to Thor, and the next he was lifting you into the air by the neck, a sparkling green wave rippling over him and unmasking your true assailant. Green eyes that glittered with malice captured your gaze while you clawed futilely at the ice cold fingers choking the life out of you.
“Loki! Put her down!” Tony commanded.
You were a bit preoccupied with trying to breathe but you could see the gauntlet Tony had aimed at your attacker and hear the alarm blasting through the tower. You had a second to hope that Peter didn’t hear it and come up here to investigate and then you were yanked forward and the hold on your throat loosened.
“I don’t think that’s Thor.” You croaked painfully while Loki wrangled you in front of him and replaced his hand on your throat with a dagger, the movements so swift and smooth that Tony couldn’t find an opening to fire a blast at him.
“Pity that neither of you came to that realization in time. Move aside Stark, or see your pretty little friend bleed.” Loki sneered.
There was a beat of silence while you exchanged a bewildered look with Tony.
“You think I’m pretty?” You asked the god at your back, carefully craning your neck to peer at him, mindful of the wickedly sharp blade against your skin.
“Yeah, he said pretty. Looks like you’ve got an admirer, Princess.” Tony agreed, both of you falling back on humour to drown out the fear.
If you could just stall long enough then back-up would arrive, hopefully in the form of the real Thor.
“Pretty enough for a mortal, not pretty enough to distract me while your would be rescuers race to save you.” Loki hissed viciously in your ear, slowly moving towards the glass doors on the other side of the lab and moving you with him.
“Rescue me from what? This is already going better than most of my other first dates.” You wisecracked, immediately regretting it as the blade was pressed tighter against your throat.
“I gotta ask, what exactly are your intentions with my employee?” Tony added, moving in tandem with Loki, keeping you in his direct line of sight.
“That is entirely up to you. I could slash her throat open with a flick of my wrist and let you watch her bleed to death, or I could release her once we have left.” Loki suggested amicably.
Your heart stuttered noticeably in your chest as your imagination helpfully supplied you with a vision of yourself lying on the ground like a broken toy, crimson blood pooling across the floor.
“Or you could kill me as soon as you’re free and clear anyway.” You said lowly, eyeing Tony meaningfully.
You could tell by the tightness in his jaw he knew what you were trying to tell him. If you were going to die anyway, don’t let it be in vain. It wasn’t heroic or selfless on your part, you just didn’t want your killer to get away. You wanted him to suffer. You knew that Tony would do everything in his power to save you, you didn’t doubt him, but you also knew he didn’t trust Loki to let you go. But he was a hero, and he wouldn’t endanger you, so you took the choice away from him.
“Friday, engage Vatican Cameos!” You said in a rush, the words squashed together in your haste.
Tony’s pupils blew up and what little colour remained in his face drained away as he realised what you’d just done.
“Building lockdown initiated.” Friday announced.
The whole building vibrated around you as every door and window in the tower was sealed from the outside, the Stark tech doing it’s job and sealing everyone inside.
“No!” Loki snarled, realising what you had done.
In your defence, it was a great plan, provided you didn’t mind dying. Which, yeah you minded, but at least you got to go out while being as inconvenient as possible. You closed your eyes and winced, waiting for the sharp pain of a dagger slicing your throat open.
There was plenty of pain, but not in your throat. An ear-splitting crash screeched through your skull and sharp pinpricks of pain bit at your arms. A cold gust of wind washed over your skin and you tore your eyes open in time to see Tony hurtling towards you with frenzied desperation, just before the metal shield slammed over the windows, sealing the tower. The problem was, you weren’t sealed in like you’d intended, you were sealed outside with Loki, who had hurled you and himself through the glass doors at the last second.
Glass from the broken window crunched under his boots as he dragged you across the balcony and shoved you away from him.
“Alone at last?” You winced, rubbing your throat and looking up at his cold eyes with dread.
“That was brave, but oh so foolish. I want you to know that I would have kept my word, I would have released you once I had escaped. You could have had mercy, pretty little mortal.” He told you, his features twisted up with something akin to regret as he looked down at the ground.
“It was an accident? I was trying to open the doors for you?” You offered weakly.
“Ah, I see. Well then fear not, I still have one final use for you, one last chance to serve me.” He informed, the corners of his lips curling up sinisterly.
You didn’t have a chance to ask what it was, all the creative ways you had thought of to tell him to go fuck himself went to waste. Without a shred of hesitation he grabbed a fistful of your shirt and raised you into the air, throwing you off the edge of the balcony and letting you fall to your death.