"We have to be getting close," Jane said as she raced the vehicle down the road, Selvig in the passenger seat studying the screen of the device in his hand.

"Whatever it was I think we missed it," Erik informed her.

"Damn it!" Jane swore in aggravation and disappointment.

"Hey...innocent ears! I'm your intern. You're supposed to be setting a good example," Darcy said, speaking with her mouth half full as she'd just taken a bite of her sandwich.

"I can't believe we haven't seen anything with those readings," Jane groused, ignoring Darcy's admonishment.

"It may not have lasted long…seconds, a few milliseconds. With this sort of thing it's often a matter of being in the right place at the right time. All the gadgets in the world can't replace good old fashioned luck," Erik informed her.

"Maybe I need to find an Irish research partner. You know, luck of the Irish, four leaf clovers, the Blarney Stone," Jane quipped looking over at Erik with a teasing smile.

"Kissing the Blarney Stone is for eloquence, not luck," Selvig responded.

"Jane!" Darcy cried out from her seat in the back as she stared wide eyed, pointing at the windshield.

Startled, Jane turned her attention back to the road, her brain registering, to her horror, a dark haired figure, a pack on his back, turning to face the oncoming vehicle. Selvig looked up from the device in his hand at Darcy's warning, spying him at the same moment as Jane. As she slammed on the brakes, the vehicle's tires squealed against the pavement in protest of the sudden command to cease spinning. As if in defiance of that command, the vehicle continued to slide forward. Not wishing to witness the demise of the man in the road, Jane squeezed her eyes tightly closed.

The vehicle came to a sudden, jarring stop, the immediate nature of its forward momentum ceasing sending all three occupants lurching forward in their seats, the contents of Darcy's sandwich spilling into her lap as the rear of the vehicle rose off the ground before gravity pulled it to the pavement once again.

Jane slowly opened her eyes to see what the other two of the vehicle's occupants already were viewing with amazement. The man stood at the front end looking back at them, seemingly unscathed, both arms stretched out in front of him, the palms of his hands resting against it as if he himself had brought it to a halt, though Jane was sure it was simply an optical illusion due to timing.

"Talk about luck," Jane said under her breath as Selvig opened the passenger door, exiting the vehicle.

Jane exited next, Darcy following, the sandwich contents in her lap falling onto the pavement as she tossed the bread onto them as well.

"This is why I hate eating in the car!"

Selvig made his way to the front end of the vehicle as Loki removed his hands from it. Jane stood at the other side of the vehicle's front end, across from Selvig, Loki between them. Darcy had joined Selvig, looking around him at Loki cautiously.

"What the hell are you doing? You damn near got yourself killed! This is a road, not a hiking trail!" Selvig scolded.

"So it is. My apologies," Loki responded.

"Are you alright?" Jane asked.

"I believe so," Loki answered.

"Car trouble? We can call someone-" Selvig began.

"I've lost it," Loki answered.

"You mean your car? How do you lose a vehicle?" asked Selvig, puzzled.

Loki's mind that had momentarily been rattled by the swift approach of the vehicle began to recover, his thinking quickening once again.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

"It was stolen," Loki answered.

"You were carjacked? Out here?"

"They took my phone and money as well," Loki responded as Jane looked at him sympathetically.

"We'll give you a lift into town. You can file a police report," Selvig offered, his animosity having faded.

"My side," Jane said before she turned, Loki following her.

Selvig and Darcy made their way back to the passenger side doors. Once everyone was inside and seated, Jane turned the vehicle around in the road, heading back in the direction of town as Darcy peered over at Loki.

"Seatbelt," Darcy told him, Loki locating and fastening it.

"I'm Jane Foster. This is Erik Selvig…..Darcy,"

"Nice to meet you," Darcy said, "You owe me a sandwich."

"I'll get you another," Selvig said.

"Selvig...your ancestors were warrors?" Loki asked, familiar with the meaning of the last syllable in the ancient language of Asgard and the lands of Midgard that once looked to Asgard and Odin for protection.

"Genealogy isn't my specialty. I'm Scandinavian. I don't know much more than that. Whatever they were, I'm a scientist."

"Þakka þér fyrir góðvild þína. (Thank you for your kindness)," Loki said as Selvig turned his head to look at him in surprise to hear a language, or at least a variation of it, spoken in his homeland.

"Verði þér að góðu (You're welcome)," Selvig responded.

"Skilja dömurnar þetta tungumál? (Do the ladies understand this language?)" Loki asked, Darcy looking from Loki to Selvig in confusion.

"Nei, við ættum að tala ensku. Við viljum ekki vera dónaleg (No. We should speak english. We don't want to be rude)," Selvig answered.

"Yes, of course."

"You haven't told us your name," Selvig noted.

"Lucas," Loki replied, using a name he had heard on one of his previous sojourns to Midgard.

"What brings you to New Mexico?"

"My brother was recently murdered. I'm hoping to find those responsible."

"I'm so sorry. That's terrible!" Jane said from the driver's seat.

His brother murdered and then carjacked and robbed...most definitely not someone with the 'luck of the Irish' Jane thought, recalling her and Erik's conversation.

"You believe they're here?" Selvig asked.

"Are you acquainted with a man named Coulson? Phil Coulson? Are you familiar with the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division?" asked Loki.

"I don't know anyone by the name of Coulson. You're talking about S.H.I.E.L.D?" Selvig asked, the color draining from his face, his countenance one of unease, "I'm familiar...somewhat. I wish I wasn't. I know a few others who feel the same. One of them disappeared. He hasn't been heard from since he had dealings with them. He was a scientist, an expert in gamma radiation. The man was a genius, had seven PhDs."

"You believe they murdered him?" Loki asked.

"I don't know what to believe. They were a scientific arm of the military in World War II. I'm not sure exactly what it is they do now. I've known a few scientists they've attempted to recruit who turned them down. I'd keep my distance if I were you. Hire a private investigator and let them go poking their nose around."

"I'll take your suggestion under advisement," Loki replied, spending the rest of the journey in silence, watching the landscape go by out of the window, Selvig glancing back at him from time to time.

"Here we are," Selvig said as they reached their base.

Jane parked the vehicle, Selvig opening the door and exiting, the others doing the same. Loki stepped out, examining his surroundings.

"Hey, you said you were going to get me another sandwich," Darcy said to Selvig.

"The police station isn't far from the sandwich shop," Selvig said, pulling out his wallet and handing money to Darcy, "Lucas, go with Darcy. She'll show you where it is. If you're hungry she'll get something for you."

Darcy gestured for Loki to accompany her, Loki following.

"What do you think?" Selvig asked Jane.

"He's a bit strange."

"I think there's more to his story. I'll take him out for a couple of drinks, loosen him up, see if he'll tell me more. I'm going to call Hank, see what he thinks. He knows more than I do. He'll need a place to stay. The weather's supposed to be nice. He can sleep on the roof….if you're ok with that."

"I'm not going to kick him out on the street, not after what he's been through," Jane replied.

"I'd like to keep him from getting in over his head. If S.H.I.E.L.D is involved that'd be easy to do."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sif traversed the corridor of the palace as she returned to her chambers after her daily training session, her hair damp with perspiration. She had not been at her best, distracted not only by her grief but also worry over Loki's mission to Midgard. Now that her suspicions had been allayed, her feelings toward him had shifted to the opposite end of the spectrum. He was Thor's brother, a living link to him, and the heir to the throne. He should be protected at all costs.

Sif thought highly of Odin and respected his wisdom but she couldn't help but be concerned that Thor's death, along with the uncertainty and unanswered questions regarding it and that of Laufey, could have a detrimental effect on his judgement and reasoning.

Sif entered her chambers as the woman whom she recognized but whose identity was unknown to her rose from the chaise dressed in the gown of a chambermaid.

"Lady Sif, I must speak with you."

"Who are you?" Sif asked.

"Verda, a friend of Loki…more than a friend."

"Leave it to Loki to charm the chambermaid into granting him favors. What is it you want?" Sif asked, fatigued from her exertions and weighed down with sorrow at the loss of Thor, having little desire to converse with Loki's strumpet.

"I need your help. Loki is in danger."