<div class="floatright">(http://ris.fashion.telegraph.co.uk/RichImageService.svc/imagecontent/1/TMG9456275/m/diorskin_2301310a.jpg)   </div><strong>Name:</strong>Jane Foster<br/><strong>Title:</strong>Stark Industries Consultant<br/><strong>Locale:</strong>Jane's Room<br/><strong>Time:</strong>7:26pm, Eastern time<br/><strong>Tags:</strong>Thor<br/><br/><hr/><em>Stark's guest rooms were better stocked than most hotel rooms she'd ever been in.</em>Jane made a mental note to thank Tony for his accommodations because they were much, much nicer than what she'd gotten used to lately, and her eyes followed Thor's gaze to the liquor cabinet. "Sure, why not?" She agreed and slipped off the edge of the mattress, tip-toeing around any flecks of broken light bulb with a barely hidden smirk.<br/><br/>She and Thor had only been in this room - what, half an hour, tops? - and it almost looked like it had been trashed all night by a rowdy rock band on tour. Almost.<br/><br/>Jane had shimmied her panties back on over her hips, but she left her breasts bare, and they bobbed gently with her every step. She opened the cabinet and peered inside, not surprised to find it already stocked with top-shelf brands. "Probably won't have anything like what you're used to, but..." The word dragged out, lingering in the air, as her fingers danced over the bottles, landing on one in decision.<br/><br/>"Let's try this." It was a bourbon she'd never heard of, which probably meant it was expensive and high-quality.<em>Just try a little,</em>she reassured her guilty conscience, aghast at the idea of drinking someone else's fancy booze that, by the way, probably cost more than her entire wardrobe put together.<br/><br/>Jane snagged a pair of shot glasses and poured them each a shot of the amber liquid, passing one to Thor. "To us," she smiled, raising her glass in an informal toast.