#fool's game

"Test, test," Jake's voice comes through the ear bud. "You hear me?"

"Certainly can," Loki assures, stirring his cup of tea as he sees the man fidgeting in the corner. "Do try to be a bit less conspicuous."

Jake clears his throat and adjusts his posture. The chair scrapes and draws the attention of several fellow patrons. Loki sighs. You can dress up a monkey but he's still got a tail.

Jake wears a proper suit. Not his usual short sleeve button up with a print like graph paper. He even smoothed that spikey atrocity on his head. He hopes he can be more convincing than his appearance.

The door opens and Loki sits taller. She's here. Oh my. She looks darling. A purple blazer over a white blouse and a striped skirt.

His eyes turn cloudy and his brain feels gooey. Jake coughs. He snaps back to reality.

"Hi, you must be..." Jake stands and awkwardly shakes her hand.

You dolt! He should've known better when he stuttered at the barista. Just be smooth. Act like you know what you're doing.

"That's me," she sits across from him. The light through the windows shines in her eyes, illuminating them. "Thank you so much for this opportunity."

Her voice trembles. She's nervous. Silence rises between them.

"Say something," Loki hisses as he cups his ear to hear over the din.

"Uhhhh, that's a nice keychain," Jake gestures to her bag. She has a knitted figure of on of her game characters.

"Dear lord, it is an interview," Loki chides and Jake twitches. 

"Um, sorry, I... thanks for coming. Glad you could make it on such short notice."

"No, uh, it's great timing," she jitters in her seat. "You know, there's not much out there right now."

"So, uh, I had a look at your resume and... and..." Jake stammers.

Loki knew he'd mess this up. That's why he's there.

"She was a financial analyst. For a startup."

Jake recites the words.

"Ask her about her strengths," Loki tuts. This is ridiculous. If he wasn't nervous of being recognised, he'd just do it himself.

Oh well. He just needs to get them through, then the rest needs to go as planned. 

🎮

Loki leaves before the interview is over. He can still hear as he pulls the car into the alley. They're wrapping up. She's still nervous.

Perhaps another would've been better... well that man Curtis is a bit too gruff, Peter is too young, Bucky too sarcastic, and Thor is Thor. You must do with what you have.

"Oh, shoot, when did this happen?" Jake says.

Loki nods. He set up the pylons and tape himself. It's a clever ploy that got him some curious looks.

"You know what, right through here, you come out right by the station. It's a shortcut," Jake plays his part out. If Bugsy were not already wrapped up in her desperation, she might be suspicious. 

"Oh, really? Thanks."

"No problem. I have to hit a gaming place over there."

"Gaming? Oh, what do you play?" Her interest is genuine. It irks Loki that she would show any in that cretin.

"Everything. Anything." Jake answers. He sounds calmer. "You?"

"Same. I've been getting real into Hellblade but it also gives me nightmares." She giggles.

That sound makes Loki melt. He leans over the steering wheel and takes a breath. He's really doing it like this.

Yes, well, he is not his brother. He can make her see clearly that it's for her own good. That he only means to take care of her.

He lifts his head and watches in the side mirror. She walks beside Jake as they babble about their games. She needs to read more books.

She looks at Jake, an act of bravery for her. That's the opportunity. Loki opens the door and gets out. She doesn't notice as she explains some game mechanics with her hands.

"Oh, man, I got stuck on this one part of--of--" Jake stammers as he notices Loki. "And it's..." He slows and manages to get behind her.

Confused, she turns. That's when he moves.

"Mr. Jensen? Everything okay?" She asks.

"I think I f-f-forgot something in the cafe, er..." Jake looks at Loki over her head. The latter gives the signal as he strides forward.

"Oh, do you want help looking, I could--"

She doesn't finished her sentence. Not before Loki has the bag over her head. He doesn't like the necessity of it but they need to move fast.

Jake stares as Loki tightens the draw string and she squeals. He hushes her and finds her mouth through the black fabric. He tries to smother her and she bites his fingers.

He is hisses and snarls at the other man, "grab her legs!"

Jake snaps into action. They wrestle her toward the car, the boot already open. She writhes and thrashes between them. They dump her onto her side and she kicks blindly.

"Shhh, darling," Loki cooes and pets the bag. "We don't want to hurt you."

A scream blooms and Loki quickly covers her mouth again and hushes. She heaves and latches onto his arm. Her breaths turn shallow as she begins to hyperventilate.

"I didn't wish for this," Loki slithers and reaches into his pocket with his free hand. "You will suffocate if you don't calm "

He slips free the syringe and uses his teeth to uncap it. He sensed Jake beside him. Their eyes meet. He spits out the cap.

"Hold her still."

Jake's eyes flicker. He grabs her shoulders and Loki pokes her neck. He quickly depresses the plunger. She spasms in panic.

"Sedation," Loki explains as he waits. Her wriggling calms. "It will keep her from hurting herself."

He lets her go and backs away. He tosses the syringe in the nearby dumpster. Jake is silent is still.

"Close that, we need to go." Loki struts to the driver's door.is

It unsettles Loki as the tracks scream with the arrival of his morning transport. She doesn't board. She simply isn't there.

He stares at the empty seat. Then he looks at his feet. Hers are usually there, sometimes even scuffing his toes as she squirms. It's quite unexciting without the mashing of buttons and the low hum of her headset. He is annoyed by the coughs and sighs of his fellow passengers. They are much more agitating than her addled grunts and groans as she fights her animated demons.

Hm. He can only hope she is taking time to recover from whatever had her so forlorn. He wonders if she discovered his little omen of comfort. Did she have it with tea?

Those thoughts only feed his restlessness. The commute drags on and he is want to shove past the rest of the passengers by the time he reaches his stop. The cramping of his long legs is more nagging that day as he disembarks. When he reaches his office, he finds his coworkers too loud and the lights too bright. He closes himself up behind his closed door and tuts.

He doesn't eat lunch. He has this bad feeling in his stomach. She's fine. He keeps telling himself so but it's hardly convincing.

The train ride home is just despairing. He keeps his leather bag in his lap, not even bothering to tuck it into the overhead. Her seat is filled by another. Not a regular. No, the man is squat and bald and keeps blowing his nose in his sleeve. Where is she?

It is only one day, good man. Settle. He girds himself as he nearly misses his stop.

He does not live far from the station. In the summers, he prefers the walk. The season is almost at an end, he should bask in it while he can. Besides, he needs to untie his nerves.

His condo waits for him in shadows. He flips on the entryway light and sets his bag on the side table. He unties his shoes and places them neatly on the rack. He slides his phone free of his jacket pocket and strides through the dark to his bedroom. He disposes of his blazer, tie, and belt. He undoes a button as he goes back down and enters the kitchen. The fixture above glows at the flick of his finger. He pours a glass of wine and his stomach growls monstrously. He should eat.

She will be back tomorrow. All will be as it should be. He takes out one of his prepped meals and lays it on a small metal tray. He heats it up in the toaster oven, it's always crisper that way. He eats between dry sips.

He doesn't sleep very much. Each time he closes his eyes, he thinks of her. When he opens them too. He rolls onto his side and runs his hand over the empty space. Foolish, he rebukes himself. How he imagines her there, beside him.

The morning rises and he stares at the corners of the room. Get up.

What is he doing? Spending all his time thinking about her? Doing nothing.

His brother might be a bit off with that group of his but they at least want to do something. They just haven't any good ideas. Well, what would he do?

Sweep her off her feet. Somehow. But he hasn't even told her his name. There was the time she caught his phone as he stood and she gave it back to him. He founds his tongue all tied up. Impotent! It is what he is. He cannot get over himself and for what? Look at her. She is so lost. She has only her games and her plushy sweaters and fuzzy bags. She needs guidance. She needs him.

He showers and readies to face the day. To see her. He dabs a bit of his favourite cologne behind his jaw. He doesn't know why. Ah, he is keen on this green tie.

He packs his lunch and shoulders his bag. He stops before he heads out. This place is big. Empty. He could make room. Her shoes would fit next to his. Her coats even. He'd make the space.

Go on, get out of here. Get out of your head.

He gets to the platform and twiddles his fingers. He searches for her. At his height, he can pick out most. His cheek twitches. She is not there. Again. Please, she must be late. Must be.

The train gets there before her. He hesitates. Perhaps he should wait and see if she is running behind. He could take the next, make it up by skipping lunch. Again.

No, he must be off. There is that rather important meeting. He sighs and climbs aboard.

He sits across from the empty seat. It stays that ray as the train lurches forward. Again, he is tormented. He cannot help but come back to that big question; where is she?

Another tedious day. Too many meetings, too much tea. He goes home. Alone. Once more. Like always. He tires of it. He is weary.

A glass of wine and no more sleep. She is not there again. He fidgets until he reaches his building. Then he paces in the privacy of his office.

He dials out to his brother. He does not pick up. No doubt distracted. By his own little hobby. Loki could laugh. The woman is sick, she has enough issues.

He wiles away his day with worry. His brother still will not answer. Hm. He does have that meeting today. He could seek him out there. Perhaps the others will have some advice, not that he would relish in sharing it all with them.

Damned too hell. He will take a half-day. He leaves and catches the train before it can barrel away. He's breathless. He hops off at his stop and nearly trips over himself. He's really doing this.

He is unfamiliar with the route. He knows her address but it is opposite his own. When he finds her building, he is not quite sure what to do with himself.

She's a few floors up. He supposes climbing onto the balcony is a bit much. He is as much a dolt as his brother. What is he doing?

Then he stops short. That bright purple cap assures him before he even sees her face. She crosses the street before she can spot him. He waits until a few cars pass before he follows.

She doesn't sense him. She shuffles along and finds a bench behind a large red building. Some community centre.

He feels ridiculous behind the tree as he leans and listens. She clears her throat. He peeks out as she puts her phone to her ear.

Her conversation is typical. 'Hi' and a few babbles here and there. He can hear the voice on the other end. Then she sniffles.

"I lost my job... dad, please--"

She huffs and he looks again. Her shoulders and head droop. Her phone is on the bench. The call is over.

That explains it. It isn't him at all. She only lost her job. Oh, my. How unfortunate.

Well, this could be an opportunity. For both of them. He just needs to figure how.