Guess Who?
It was cold in the cabin, Georgia could see her breath, even Loki was visibly shivering. Some God he was, she rolled her eyes. There was some discarded firewood from whoever had used the safe house previously, which she used gratefully.
She was stalling, but Loki didn’t know that. At some point, she would have to bring out the IDs S.H.I.E.L.D had made for them and have Loki alter her appearance in order to fit. There was little chance that Hydra would recognise her, but since she had partaken in some pretty public assignments it was better not to take that chance. Loki was incredibly recognisable so he would have to shift his appearance also.
She chucked newspaper onto the hungry flames, shedding her gloves and warming her hands. She could feel him watching her, like a snake in the grass, peering through the shoots, stalking. She glanced over her shoulder, he was rising from his spot on the couch. Georgia shivered, it had nothing to do with the cold.
He had taken his gloves off also, tilting his hands in front of the fire. It was oddly domestic. She didn’t think Gods got cold, but here he was. His face flushed, his nose a little red. There was an orangey glow cast across his skin. There was movement to him and yet he was standing almost completely still, it was just his breath, the slow inhale and exhale. He reminded her of those paintings that were so realistic they mimicked a photo almost perfectly. It was like looking at a fabrication of the world, and if you squinted, if you looked hard enough, you could see everything move and sway. The rise and fall of his chest made his body shift slightly and she remembered he wasn’t a statue.
At that moment, he was merely a man.
Brown was bleeding into the purple bruise around his eye, she could see that now that she was closer to him. His fingers were twitching, a slight tremor as his body fought against the frigid air. His hair was tangled from the wind, but not knotted. If he ran his fingers through the strands they would easily untwine.
She wet her lips, the surface chapped and bitten by the cold.
“I need something from you,” she said. The words came out in a croak which she was quick to clear.
He didn’t answer, he just stared at the fire. The marble icon beside her was too good to grace her with a semblance of a response.
Georgia sighed, bending to pull the fake Hydra badges from the front of her duffle. His gaze examined the items in her hand. Finally something worthy of his attention. There was a sight furrow in his brow.
“I need you to make my face resemble this,” Georgia handed him the first ID. He looked at it closely, biting the inside of his cheek.
“And what will you give me if I do?” He looked down at her. When she didn’t answer he raised a brow.
Oh, he’s serious. She thought. Of course, he is.
She hummed. “I won’t give you another black eye.”
He scowled, snatching the ID from her hands like a disgruntled child. She rolled her eyes.
“Alright then,” he gestured to the couch pressed against the wall under a small frosted window. “Go on.”
Georgia took a seat, the cushion sinking in with a huff. She felt like she was sitting miles beneath him, her body hunched into the dying sofa. His hair hung over his eyes slightly, he brushed a lock behind his ear.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” He asked, still looming above her.
She sighed, reluctantly grabbing her phone in order to let him have his powers back. He closed his eyes, his fists clenched at his side, a small content smile clawing its way onto his lips. The bruise that was once around his eye dissolved and it was like his whole body came to life again.
He knelt in front of her, not bothering to find a seat to perch on. His hand reached towards her, hovering just over her cheek. He leaned his head down a fraction with a slight tilt to the right. Was he asking permission?
She swallowed, nodding sharply. Loki let his fingertips brush her cheek. Georgia could feel a light buzz wash over her skin. She averted her eyes from his gaze, feeling his fingers smooth over her jaw, pushing her chin up slightly. She kept her body incredibly still, despite the fact his touch made her want to squirm and crawl out of her skin.
His thumb traced over the shape of her lips and up the other side of her jaw. She shut her eyes as his featherlight touch continued to outline her face, over the ridge of her nose and across her eyelids. Her breath caught when he undid her hair, running his fingers through the strands.
She let her eyes crack open, his expression was soft, his hands now cupping her cheeks–
A sharp pain struck through her head. She groaned, her eyes rolling back as the agony swept down her spine.
She tried to pull away, his hands gripping her jaw. “What are you–”
His right hand moved to grab her forehead, his thumb and forefinger pressing down on her temples. “It’s not working.”
Her eyes rolled again, darkness blotting out her vision.
She placed her palms on his chest. “Stop.” Power surged through her, knocking him back and onto the ground.
“What have you done?” He got up, resting his weight on his forearms. His glare carried murderous intent.
“What have I done?” She swept her fingers to the right, making his arms crumble beneath him. “You were the one trying to plant another memory.”
“I wasn’t planting anything, I was simply viewing your–”
She put pressure on his chest, he grumbled but didn’t make an attempt to break away from her hold. “I can’t believe you,” Georgia shook her head.
“Where has it gone?” He said lazily, his body flat on the floor, staring at the ceiling.
“After last time I made sure you couldn’t.” She shrugged, “Just like how you can’t teleport.”
He scoffed, “That seems unfair.”
She let him go, sick of looking at him, sick of hearing his voice. “There’s something seriously wrong with you.” She turned away, trying to find somewhere she could go, somewhere to hide.
“You look ravishing, by the way,” he called after her. “No thanks to you.”
“Fuck off.”
*****
Loki leaned against the bathroom door.
“Georgia?”
“Go. Away.” He could hear her voice echo in the small room.
“I truly am sorry.” He waited for an answer, listening as her breath stuttered from inside.
“Liar.”
She got him there. He was a liar. And he also wasn’t sorry.
Ever since the first time he looked into her mind she had become endlessly fascinating to him. Not to mention he found it quite amusing to torment her. Shapeshifting was likely one of the simplest spells there was. Altering others' appearances was equally effortless for him. Yet he couldn’t help himself, she wouldn’t let him close enough to try to explore her mind again unless he had a good excuse.
It had completely backfired and in hindsight, he should have guessed that she wouldn’t allow him to do anything of the sort again.
“What must I do to win back your favour?” He waited once more. It didn’t seem she was going to give an answer. He pushed away from–
“There’s a lake,” she finally replied, it sounded like she had moved closer to the door. He could hear her voice more clearly through the wood. “About a mile from here. When you reach it, you’re going to need to find something to break the ice. Once that’s done,” she took a deep breath, “You can go ahead and drown yourself.”
“Fine,” he turned to shout at the door, “Be a stubborn little wench.”
“Of course!” She wrenched open the door. “I’m the stubborn one.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Take a look in the mirror, asshole.” She flung the door shut once more, her now blonde hair almost getting caught as it slammed.
“Oh I would, but you’re hogging the bathroom.”
She refused to reply, bracing herself on the sink. She gazed up at herself briefly, she hadn’t thought of how much changing her appearance would affect her. Her eyes weren’t the deep brown they once were, they were a few shades lighter, like honey under the yellow overhead lights. Her face had softer edges, her cheeks pinker.
However, it was her hair that was the most different. Her ringlets weren’t gone, but what was once brown was now dirty blonde and it made everything look… off. She tilted her head, staring at the girl who most definitely wasn’t her, collecting her hair and retying it away from her face.
She had forgotten it was even down. That Loki had pulled it apart and ran his fingers through it and made it this. Yes, it was what she had asked for. What had to be done. But it was easier to blame him. After all, he was the one to change her. Their abilities were similar in many ways, but unfortunately, shape-shifting was a gift she was not given.
She hated that she even had to rely on him to do it for her. Hated that she had let him so close. Hated that she could still feel his fingers in her hair, on her scalp. She could still feel his touch on her cheeks and it felt like it had spread. Down her arms and her chest and thighs. It was like he was still there. Everywhere. Impossible to scrub, to scratch away.
She turned on the shower, waiting for it to heat. The tiles were cool and the air made goosebumps break out over her skin. And as if someone had answered her prayers, the water felt like it was washing what was left of him down the drain. His fingerprints were no longer painted on her skin.
She could see her breath when she stepped out, quickly drying so she could curl up near the fire. Maybe read a book, pretend like he wasn’t there. Constantly so close.
He was lying across the couch when she emerged, his legs dangling over the side. The fire was burning and the whole room was buzzing with its warmth. There was an orange glow on his face and his eyes were darting as he read. He didn’t look up at her.
It was like she was dust, drifting around him. He didn’t seem to notice when she rummaged in her bag or dropped her book on her way over to her spot near the fire. He didn’t glance when she slid down the wall and stretched out her legs.
She opened her own book–
She blinked a few times as she stared at the pillow that was just thrown at her face. He had returned to his pristine position, his body perfectly placed like he was posing for a portrait, like everyone's eyes were on him.
She didn’t say thank you. She knew he wouldn’t.
Instead, she adjusted the pillow and closed her book again, blonde hairs escaping from her ponytail, falling gently in her vision. “How long does this last?”
For a second she thought he wouldn’t answer. Wouldn’t dare. “You may need to be more specific, dear.”
“This.” She pointed to herself. “My face.”
“As long as I need it to.” He scratched his cheek, turning a page.
“Right.” She couldn’t focus on reading. Not now. Not with him so close. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“How does it work? Can you change your appearance as you please?” She couldn’t just stare at the fire now, not when she could see him shifting, his attention clearly straying towards her.
“Yes,” he breathed out.
She cast her eyes towards the ceiling, wondering if the words would die in her throat before they ever even reached her lips. “...Can you show me?”
He sat so he was facing her, his book now discarded. “You’re a curious thing, aren’t you?”
She shrugged, “What else do we have to do?”
He smirked and Georgia couldn’t quite describe it, but when she blinked he seemed to change and he was no longer himself he was… Thor. Her breath caught and she sat up straighter.
“Cat got your tongue, My Lady?” His voice was different.
“How– You sound like him.”
“Do I?” He rested his forearms on his knees, tilting his head and flashing a charming grin. It was all very… Thor. Arms muscular and jaw sharp. He looked identical. Even the armour was the same, his cape draping on the floor by his ankles.
“It’s uncanny.”
In another blink, he had a shield in his hand. Georgia shook her head in amusement, fighting the laughter rattling around in her chest.
“You like this one?” He asked, his chin tipped up, broad shoulders pressed back to display the stars and stripes on his chest.
“That’s so weird.”
“Hey, do you wanna have a rousing discussion about truth?” Georgia couldn’t help but let out a small huff of laughter. “Honour? Patriotism? God bless Ameri–”
“Stop,” she turned away from him, shielding him from the bright smile that had forced its way onto her features.
“Okay,” he said quietly, almost a whisper. When she turned back Loki was just… him. Dark hair and pale skin. His cheeks were flushed again and he was leaning back against the couch, looking impossibly princely. “I think I like your hair dark.” He said after a moment like he had been contemplating the phrase, curating it perfectly in his mind before he would dare to let it touch his tongue.
She swallowed, biting down on her own. “I– Yeah. I do too.” Georgia sighed, “It’s okay, it’s only two weeks. Max.”
He just hummed. She felt her insides shift a little.
“Okay,” she said, “I think I should probably try to sleep tonight.”
Loki nodded, his hand slowly tracing over the cover of his book.
Georgia turned from him and made her way to the one small bedroom in the house. And as much as she wanted to fall asleep, she was still wide awake and staring at the wall when she heard Loki quietly pad into the room hours later. Folding back the sheets of his bed and slowly getting in so he wouldn’t make a sound.
*****
“Are you nervous?” Loki asked, clearly seeing the way she was wringing her gloved hands.
“No.”
Yes.
This wasn’t the first time without her team. It wasn’t even the first time she was on an assignment so far away from them. She had done many before the Avengers had even formed and yet these months she had spent with them after the battle of New York had always meant something much more.
It was because of him.
It wasn’t his unpredictability that was sending her stomach reeling, it was the fact she was assigned with him in the first place. The most expendable person currently at S.H.I.E.L.D. He was a war criminal, a prisoner of the state and she was apparently ‘a valued agent’.
There was a small, sensible voice whispering in her brain that told her it was because of their shared similar power set.
And yet?
She could still feel bile bubbling in the pit of her stomach and she couldn’t help thinking that there was another reason she was sent here… with him. And that if she died, Fury wouldn’t even bat an eye. Maybe no one would.
She came from nothing and no one. Cliche as it was, there was no family, no parents she was returning home to. Just the tower and she’d like to think, her team.
Tony.
She’d like to think that if she disappeared today or tomorrow or next week, they would burn everything down in the wake of their search. That they wouldn’t simply mourn and lay flowers on her young grave. That they would feel revenge was their only option.
Maybe not.
Because there was always someone else they cared for more. There was Tony’s assistant, who he would stay up late chatting to, his laugh brighter and bouncing off the walls. Natasha would send herself off a cliff before she saw anything happen to Clint, he would do the same in return. They all had someone.
Someone just that little bit more important than her.
Georgia found herself saying, “no,” another time. Ignoring the way Loki looked as if maybe the thoughts running through his head were eerily similar to hers.
“Okay,” Loki said, “Are you going to move or–”
She finally stopped looking down at her hands and opened the car door, sitting in the driver's seat. She heard the engine come alive when she turned the key. Georgia took one last breath and looked at Loki, who was still yet to change, his hair tied back, that same pink from the night before on his cheeks, this time from the cold.
She pressed down on the accelerator and began to turn onto the cleared dirt road.