<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>5:22 pm, Eastern<br/><strong>Tags:</strong>Loki<br/><br/><hr/><br/>A sense of wrongness prickled at Jane's scalp, at the base of her neck. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something subtle changed in the demi-god's demeanor, and it just didn't seem<em>right.</em>His grip was too strong on her wrist, and she winced.<br/><br/>But as parts of Thor's armor fell away and his lips hovered so near to hers, Jane told herself that she was just being critical, overly picky. It had been so long since she'd last seen him; she hardly had any right to complain about him being here<em>now</em>. "I've wanted you too," she reassured him, the disguised Loki's hand sliding down to her hip making her shiver and lean into his touch.<br/><br/>The blond's next words though sent a ripple of alarm and confusion through her, and she withdrew a little. Jane stared down at Loki's hand claiming her stomach and then back up to his face, shock clearly on her face.<br/><br/>"Wait...<em>what?</em>" They hadn't thought about, hadn't talked about anything more serious than...whatever it was they were now, and "Thor's" sudden turn of mood stung Jane as sharply as a slap across the cheek.<br/><br/>"We - Thor, hold up. I'm sure that's how you do things back home, but<em>here</em>you can't just claim a woman as your wife, your - your<em>mate</em>!" The idea of the physical act of "receiving him," as Loki phrased it, had her heart beating with want, but Jane's rational mind told her all of this was way too fast and just...weird.<br/><br/>The brunette watched his lips press to her wrist, her own forming a thin line; she gave a tug of her arm, trying to free it from his hold. "Come on, now, Thor, let's...talk about this or something. Don't get all weird on me."