ONLY FOR YOU | Loki

CHAPTER 53: WET BROWN HAIR

     OLIVIA STEPS OUT THE DOOR WITH A HEFTY SIGH, RUNNING A HAND THROUGH HER WET HAIR. The bouncers eye her with distaste as she rounds the corner into the alley, but she pays them no mind.

     "Finally got your shit together, huh?" a familiar voice inquires behind her. She can hear his stupid smug smirk already. "I was starting to think you were losing your edge."

     Olivia turns, finding a familiar obnoxious face behind her. He's wearing a predictably sleazy grin.

     "Even if I were, I'd still have more than enough to kick your stupid ass," she replies, raising her eyebrows. He grits his teeth a little, but forces his smirk to widen.

     "Different day, same Fox— or should I call you Liv now?" he inquires, lowering his voice with an underlying threat. She offers him a sarcastic smile, but her eyes remain cold, eyeing him more like a roach than a person.

     "Only if you want to lose an eye," she shrugs, her tone too deadly serious to match her expression. He scoffs out a laugh.

     "I don't think so," he denies, his face twisting into an arrogant grin. "What, you think I haven't seen you? You come back from every mission covered in blood. Your own blood, even. The only one in danger of losing an eye around here is you." She laughs, genuine but cruel.

     "And you'd be coming back in a body bag," she advises him, ice cold. "But by all means, rookie, try me." His face twists in anger for a moment, but then it slowly smooths out again. A slightly bitter laugh escapes him.

     "Rookie," he echoes, somewhere between amusement and frustration. "Never thought I'd hear you call me that again. I think it actually hurts my pride worse now, knowing you're younger than me."

     "You needed the reminder," she states, adjusting the bag on her shoulder. There's a short, but tense silence.

     "Glad to see you're still kicking, Fox," he sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Do both of us a favor and stay that way." She turns to get going again, though she certainly doesn't let her guard down.

     "Worry about yourself, Dagger," she calls over her shoulder as she parkours her way up the alley's dividing wall. "You need it more." And then she drops down onto the other side, vanishing from Dagger's view.

     He sighs, his shoulders sagging a little but his eyes sharp.

     "No," he whispers into the empty air, "I don't."

***

     "You're unharmed," Loki points out, sounding a little surprised about it. Olivia shoots him an offended glance.

     "Well yeah," she replies, as though it should be obvious. "This was one of the easier ones; didn't send me through a neighborhood crawling with people who want to use my guts as a chandelier." Loki cringes at the mental image.

     "That's disgusting," he advises her flatly.

     "Don't look at me," she shrugs, putting her hands up in surrender. "I didn't make that up; that's a direct quote. Someone actually said that to me last time. I think it was supposed to be intimidating? I shot them right after, so it kind of fell flat."

     Loki's nose crinkles up in disgust. People say he has a silver tongue, but sometimes it feels more like he just has at least one brain cell. Apparently everyone else has none.

     "What was the mission today, then?" he inquires, wanting nothing more than to leave this topic behind for... preferably, never. 

     "Followed a guy back to his base of operations," Olivia shrugs. "It wouldn't normally be an Expendable's mission, but even now I'm the only person with any skill, and the guy was on high alert from the last two bozos they sent."

     "I suppose the pendant I gave you came in handy?" Loki guesses, raising his eyebrows and hoping to be right. Olivia nods, looking very pleased about that in particular.

     "For sure," she confirms. "Still can't thank you enough for that, by the way. I mean, I still had to walk around in the pouring rain for three hours, but the pendant made it so much easier." He settles into a half-smug smile.

     "Of course it did," he replies, "I made it specially for you. You should feel honored, really." She chuckles, rolling her eyes with a smile.

     With a quick lean over the counter, she plants a chaste peck onto his lips.

     "Oh Loki, great king of Asgard, how can I ever repay you for this, the most extravagantly wondrous, magical gift I have ever received in my puny mortal life?" she inquires dramatically, almost sarcastically, as she drops back into her seat. He narrows his eyes at her.

     "As much as I enjoy you calling me king, I do not appreciate the mockery," he scoffs sharply. She laughs, and he struggles to keep his disapproving expression.

     "Damn, that sucks," she shrugs, flashing him a grin, "cause if you don't like mockery, you're really barking up the wrong tree." He shakes his head.

     "Apparently also if I'm looking for good taste," he sasses back. She gasps dramatically, chucking a french fry at him.

     "At least I know how to tell the difference between New York and Chicago," she shoots back. He rolls his eyes.

     "That happened one time," he defends, though he can't keep the note of embarrassment out of his voice. She laughs.

     "Babe, you tried to take over New York! You should know what it looks like!" she exclaims, though she's grinning too widely to be serious about it. He blinks at her, dropping the playful atmosphere.

    "What did you say?" he wonders blankly, staring. Her brows furrow, and she rethinks.

     "...that you... tried to take over New York?" she guesses, confused. He shakes his head fervently, leaning toward her a little.

     "No, before that," he contradicts. "You called me 'babe'." She blinks once, twice, looking surprised herself.

     "Oh," she remarks, "did I? I mean, I wasn't really thinking about it." He nods, resolutely.

     "You did," he confirms, leaving no room for argument. Not that she would feel the need to argue over something as trivial as having called him babe. She shuffles, not really knowing what he wants from her.

     "I mean, I can just not, if it bugs you," she points out, hoping he'll just tell her what this is about.

     "No!" he interrupts, just a little too fast, and a little too loud. She stares at him, taken aback. He clears his throat, suddenly uncomfortable. "I mean, no... it doesn't bother me. Call me whichever trivial nickname you please, it's of no consequence to me." There's a pause, and to recover, he adds, "though I would prefer My King."

     Olivia recovers, and a slow grin spreads across her face.

     "Whatever you say," she agrees, with a lilt that suggests he'll never hear her say his actual name again. He's about to start protesting when she tacks on, "your majesty."

     It's an obvious taunt, but his words die in this throat, instantly killed by his soulmate's stupid, incredible voice. It only takes a moment of silence for her to notice how he's about to start glowing with joy.

     He can't decide if this is going to be remembered as the worst moment of his life, or the best.