<div class="floatleft">(http://data.whicdn.com/images/12895752/Natalie-Portman_mid_large.jpg)   </div><strong>Name:</strong>Jane Foster<br/><strong>Title:</strong>(future) Stark Industries Consultant<br/><strong>Locale:</strong>Ontario, Canada<br/><strong>Time:</strong>5:42 pm, Eastern<br/><strong>Tags:</strong>Loki, Thor<br/><hr/><br/>Loki drew closer to her, in a terrible mockery of the fake intimacy she and "Thor" had earlier shared. The full realization of how completely and utterly she'd been taken in by the God of Mischief's illusion, how easily she'd been deceived, stung greater than a physical blow.<em>She'd been such a fool...</em><br/><br/>His words wormed their way into her ears and heart, stealing any more clever retorts she might have had to offer from her lips. Jane's defiance was reduced to a glare and ineffective "Let me<em>go.</em>" She recoiled away from Loki's touch, letting out a quiet whimper as his tongue traced a frigid burn around her wrist. She'd welcomed his lips earlier against her hand, and now she could barely contain her fear and her disgust (partially at herself). The knowledge that she'd been so goddamn<em>eager</em>before almost hurt more than the freezing blue mark itself. Almost.<br/><br/>"Let go of me!" Jane cried out, futilely, and jerked her arm away as soon as Loki released her. She just stared at him with angry tears in the corners of her eyes as he left and didn't move from her spot for a full minute or two after he'd gone.<br/><br/>She rubbed the mark on her wrist, though the burning cold sensation lingered still, and snatched the phone off its crook. Jane redialed the most recent call, praying that Thor or someone,<em>anyone</em>would answer.<br/><br/><hr/><br/>The phone rang, but a female voice answered. “This is Jane Foster. I need -” She began urgently, but the woman on the other end of the phone interrupted:<em>“Wrong number.” </em>And then there was silence on the line.<br/><br/>Jane sighed in frustration. She could call back, but something told her it would just be a goose chase trying to contact Thor that way. The brunette chewed her bottom lip in thought.<em>But there</em>was<em>someone else she could call. Maybe he’d help her, especially if she took him up on his standing offer.</em><br/><br/>Flipping through her address book, Jane found the number she was looking for and dialed the digits in. Now all she had to do was hope Tony Stark would actually<em>answer</em>his personal cell phone.<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Jane exhaled deeply, nervously waiting for Tony to pick up. Relief flooded her every limb when his familiar voice came through the phone speaker. She chuckled, relief and surprise both mingling in her laugh. “Mr. Stark. I was going to ask you the same thing! If you’re talking about Thor, I…I’m not sure. He called me a few minutes ago from a Stark R&D line.” Jane swallowed, glancing to the mark on her wrist.<br/><br/>“Tony, Loki was here,” her voice was a quiet breath, tinged with fear. The frost burn encircling wrist taunted her quietly, reminding her of what she’d almost stupidly done, how she’d not only endangered herself but possibly -<br/><br/><em>No, can’t think like that.</em>Jane wrapped her right palm around her other wrist, hiding Loki’s mark from sight. “He’s…gone now, went through some kind of…portable wormhole. I don’t know,” she confessed with a sigh, volunteering information Tony hadn’t requested. She needed to tell<em>someone.</em><br/><br/>“I’m in Ontario, doing some personal research.” Jane recited her geographic coordinates to Tony. She had them memorized, after all. “Yes. He just…vanished, in an instant.” Jane’s eyes darted to her equipment, her notebooks, as though the figures there could grant her some reassurance. “You know how much sheer energy the other wormholes required? Massive, obvious.” Some of her normal scientific excitement crept into her voice, and she sounded more like the Jane Foster most people knew.<br/><br/>“This was…” She whistled low, under her breath. “It was fast, and it was impressive. He’s got something new, Tony.” Jane left the other half of her sentence unsaid:<em>Something bad.</em><br/><br/>“Ok, ok.” Jane nodded into the phone, a smile coming to her face despite herself. She’d be safe and finally<em>with Thor.</em>The real one.<br/><br/>“I guess that means I’m finally taking you up on your offer. Jane Foster, official consultant.” Another relieved chuckle came from her throat, and she glanced around her small camper, taking a mental inventory of what she’d need.<br/><br/>“I’ll be ready, and see you then.”