First Impressions

Part 6

The next event that rolled into town was a birthday celebration for Mrs. Watson. No one had any idea how she managed to live to nearly a hundred, given how cranky and bitchy she was.

Nat said the spite kept her sparks flying. You just didn't want to be one of the poor souls who got hit by one of those sparks. Nat laughed.

Everyone in town had been invited, and it sure as hell seemed like everyone in town was there. Well, all but one.

You had yet to spot Wickham. You hoped he was there; you'd been looking forward to talking with him, maybe dance a little.

"He's not here," Nat said.

You had told her everything Wickham had told you about Loki, and everything you knew about Wickham. She agreed it was suspicious, but she never said whether she believed Wickham or not.

"Is it because Loki's here?" You asked.

She nodded. "One of his colleagues said he stayed home because he thought it would be best not to ruin the evening with unnecessary tension."

You frowned. Before you could respond, a hand lightly brushed along your waist. You turned to see Stephen looking expectantly at you. You raised an eyebrow.

"Care to dance?" He asked.

The amount of pride you had in yourself at that moment for not outwardly blanching was immense. You glanced at Nat, but all you got in return was a sympathetic and apologetic look. You smiled politely and nodded. One dance couldn't hurt. Too much.

Stephen Strange might be a gifted surgeon. He might work for someone as notorious as Jean Grey. But he was not a good dancer. Stiff as a board, too close at times and too far away at others. Yet he somehow managed to keep enough grace to not make a complete fool of himself.

Neither of you spoke. This was the most awkward dance you'd ever experienced with anyone.

As the song came to an end, and you stopped dancing, someone cleared their throat next to you. You silently thanked the powers that be and blessed your savior as Stephen let go, and you both turned to them.

You nearly took back your thanks and the blessing.

"May I have this next dance?" Loki asked, giving all his attention to you and none to Stephen.

Though annoyed at the mere sight of him, the thought of having to dance with Stephen again sent dread creeping down your spine. Stephen politely stepped away as you accepted.

Dancing with Loki was easier. He was much more relaxed, maintained a respectable distance from you without drifting too far away. That is where the list of pros ended. The cons were quite similar to the cons of dancing with Stephen, in that it was just as awkward and quiet.

"If I might so bold, may I ask how you know Wickham?" Loki asked.

You blinked. "I've only met him recently. That day outside my aunt's house." You hesitated before continuing. "He paints quite the picture of you."

Something is Loki's eyes shuttered, and you got the distinct sense you had touched a nerve. Well, you had come this far. Might as well see just how much further you could go.

"Is that so?" He replied dryly.

"He claims you screwed him out of his inheritance, lied about him to discredit him, and left him out to dry."

"And you believe his claims?"

Oh God. The look in his eyes right now. He seemed to be peering into your soul, searching for all your secrets and hopes. You did not appreciate that, even if his eyes were a rather beautiful color.