The Ant and the Boot

The city moved before me. In the darkness, the flickering lights appeared like the blinking eyes of a wounded beast. This was not a place that slumbered when the night came: no, this land simply retreated, taking the time in the darkness to lick its wounds. Could the Earth feel what was about to happen to it?

The city was a place called Detroit, and although we had not attacked it yet it seemed like a place that had already suffered many mighty blows. As I moved myself through its streets, I began to see a strange sort of beauty in the hollow skyscrapers and the yawning mouths of empty behemoths. In many places the buildings stared at me, dead, but in others I could sense that ghosts still lingered.

Soon, these buildings would no longer exist. It was strange to walk amongst the streets on the eve of battle, especially a place that had already come to know the taste of destruction. Even if the mortals that lived there moved about unawares, the city knew. I could feel it holding its breath. Waiting.

They had a strange style of music in this place, something called “jazz”. I mingled for a while amongst the mortals, listening. It was nothing like the noble music of Asgard, but it had its own strange appeal. It had heart, much like the inhabitants of this realm, and I felt it suited them in the same way that the regality of the music of Asgard suited its subjects.

I wondered, as I sat among them – the dead who walked around me, oblivious that their demise was at hand – if Dove had ever spent time at a place like this while she was mortal.

“You ain’t from ‘round here. Wanna drink?”

I looked up, surprised to be disturbed. A dark-skinned man smiled widely, a couple of his teeth replaced with gold. At first glance he reminded me of a vibrantly alive skeleton: he was so whittled down in size that his clothes, too extravagant to actually be considered rich, hung from his bones, yet he seemed to dance in his morbid thinness. I realized, after a moment of looking around, that this must be the patron of the establishment, and I’d taken a seat at the place to get refreshment.

“I’m unsure if I could find a drink to satisfy my tastes,” I replied, “do you carry mead?”

“’Mead’? Aw hell no. But tell you what: I bet ten bucks I can come up wit’ a drink that even you love,” he insisted, “After all, I always says, ‘I tell you I can look at a man and tell you what drink he needs’. Now for you, you’re all classy-like, so I got a drink for you. Don’t tell nobody though: we’re not supposed to have it in the States. But I says to myself, ‘what’s so bad about a drink that you can’t have it in the States? Any drink is a good drink if you make it right.’ So I show you.”

And so the barman with the golden teeth vanished, busying himself with his toils. I watched him, bemused and momentarily distracted from the fate of these people and the decision that I had to make. Too soon, though, he returned, carrying a delicate flute holding an opalescent, bubbly liquid, a shade of green similar to the bright eyes of a cat – at its top floated a single white rose petal. I regarded it curiously. One thing that mortals did appreciate more than most of my company in Asgard, save my mother, was the artful preparation and ornamentation of beverages: In my youth I shared my time surrounded by warriors, who preferred their drinks in large tankards that flowed freely; so, at Odin’s wish largely and freely they flowed.

“That first one is on the house – I knows that you’ll want a second. I’ve just been waiting for the right man to make that for,” the man smiled widely again. “Remember, you gotsta drink it slow-like, though. Get an appreciation for the flavor – otherwise the Green Fairy will send you home early tonight and you won’t remember a thing when you get up in the morning.”

I swirled the drink once before lifting the flute to my lips. Its flavor reminded me of the spring: there were flowers, herbs, and it almost tasted as if the rose that garnished the beverage had transferred its flavor along with the drink. It seemed to bubble for a second in my mouth before subsiding into an underlying taste of bitterness that sat like silk on my tongue. I did take my time with the beverage: not out of fear of intoxication – mortal drinks, unless taken in excessive qualities, would have little to no effect on an Asgardian – but out of genuine appreciation.

“What am I tasting, if I dare ask?” I asked the man. He seemed proud – he ought to, it’s rare that mortals prepare something that pleases a god – and half walked, half danced over to me from the side of another patron.

“What did I tells ya? The Green Fairy is good. Her fancy name is absinthe – she’s got that nice green color, then she’s mixed with a good champagne that makes her bubble like that. It’s a smart fancy drink you know, made by that literary fellow Earnest Hemingway: he calls it ‘Death in the Afternoon’.”

I marveled at the accuracy of its name: this man had, in fact, known with a glance which drink I should have with a single glance after all.

“You’re right, it’s very good.”

“What’d I say? I tells you, Crazy Eddie knows how to make ‘em. Now I knows you’ll come back to the Lucky Lady another night.”

“’Lucky Lady’?”

“That’s the name of this fine establishment. I know, the sign don’t work so good nowadays. But she’s the best there is in town, I guarantee it – man, I love her so much that I wish I could give her a ring, but I already gave one of those to my lovely wife.”

The man, now known to be “Crazy Eddie”, raised one skeletal hand in a wave and danced away, busying himself with another patron. I watched him, and all I could think was how these mortals, though their lives were fleeting, had so much spirit, as if the heart that we spread across millennia had to be condensed into their short lifetimes.

For a rare moment, I felt regret that soon I would be the one to extinguish that flame.

I transported myself away from their vibrancy, leaving behind my empty flute, its white rose garnish left ruined at the bottom. I had one last thing to do before I spread the lies of war.



Blue crackled behind my eyes. I remembered… falling, I think, then someone…

Steve, I remembered, That’s who it was. The battle. And my power…

The power arced behind my closed eyes. It was still there.

Slowly, carefully, I opened my eyes.

I felt dizzy, the lights too bright and my throat too dry. I squinted, shying away from that brightness; around me indistinct objects moved.

”Water.”

Someone swiftly put water to my lips, lifting my head so I could drink. I drank till I coughed on water, blessing their merciful soul.

“Careful now, my sister, you are still weakened. Do not hurt yourself.”

I leaned forward with extra caution, waiting for the coughing to subside before opening my eyes again.

This time they focused, taking in the hulking form of Thor, blonde brows knit in worry. Still, he smiled as I looked at him. He had the warmest smile.

“Good! You are awake. Are you well, sister? Should I find the others?”

“Just wait a moment, I need to remember how to work my arms,” I said, smiling a little. At least that didn’t hurt. Still, as I continued to talk the fog in my brain seemed to dissipate, seeping out through my limbs until I felt normal again. Tired, but normal. Hesitantly I stepped off the – thing – that I had been lying on, feet falling unsteadily on the cold metal floor. Thor grabbed my arm, but I seemed stable enough to stand on my own.

I looked around for the first time, realizing the light was so terrible because it actually was that bright, a large fluorescent bulb aimed straight down at my face. My “bed” was a thin mattress on top of a metal table, and around me things beeped quietly. I’d been dressed in loose white shirt and pants, and one of those awful plastic bands was around my wrists, the ones that you got exclusively at state fairs and hospitals.

“This must be sick bay,” I said, more to the air than anyone in particular. Still, Thor nodded, releasing my arm.

“It is designed for mortals when they are ill, so there was little that it could offer you – still, Stark felt happier that you slept here, so here you slept.”

I nodded. “What happened?”

“Your power, it is limited. You became righteous and reached that limit too quickly. Still, you showed the true might of a god. I was impressed. You take to godhood quite well.”

“Until I passed out and ended up in sick bay.”

“Until I passed out and ended up in sick bay,” he agreed. I glanced at him. Thor was teasing me. I punched him lightly in the arm, even though I was relatively sure that I could punch him with all my godly might and he’d feel it like a tickle.

“Come on, let’s go up. We should see the others – that, and I need a fresh change of clothes and a pair of scissors.”



There was something distinctly amusing about watching a god struggling to cut a wristband off with a pair of scissors. I’m sure that she could have just blasted it off, but no, after being out for a day and a half she understandably was avoiding expending extra power. Nearly falling to your death can do that to you – I know, I’ve been there. And let me tell you, even someone as big an adrenaline junkie as I took it easy for a couple of days after that first fall. After that, though, it just became fun, up until New York. I guess I had a pretty hot and heavy flirtationship with death.

“Yeah, day and a half. Could have been worse, could have been better. But you’re moving again, which is the important thing.”

“And the baby wasn’t harmed, either,” Pepper added. I stiffened for a second. I’d forgotten about the baby. From the look on the kid’s face, I was pretty sure that, for that brief moment, she had too.

“Thank you,” she said. She did have a mother’s relief in her face that the baby wasn’t harmed – and, more selfishly to the rest of us, I could see that everyone else was relieved that the baby was okay. After all, the baby was the most compelling thing keeping Loki on our side – who knows what he would do if Dove lost it under our watch.

The pregnant women – plus Cinderella, hilariously – retired to a corner, talking amongst themselves. Cindy was a cute big brother to Dove, I had to admit: the way he sort of hovered around her keeping an arm close at all times. In the absence of the actual father, Cindy knew how to step in – honestly I think he would even if Loki had been around. He had sort of a maternal instinct, like those malamutes that could swallow a baby whole but decide instead that it’s the most precious thing in the world. Still, watching him and Dove had a very strong Scooby Doo, Scrappy Doo dynamic – though I suppose anyone looks pretty Scrappy Doo next to gigantor.

Yeah, he was the best stand-in that we were going to get, besides maybe – actually, scratch that. Best we were going to get period, including the father.

Except maybe…

“Hey Spangles, looking broody as per usual.”

“Not brooding, wincing.”

“Leg?”

“Yeah. It looks mostly healed up, it’s just got this black scar that doesn’t feel right. I keep wanting to break it back open since it feels like a giant splinter under the skin.”

“We’ll keep an eye on it, but it hasn’t started looking infected at all. You’re lucky that’s all you’ve got, though – we thought you might lose your head back there. I guess your joints are getting a little stiff. I’ve been told senior yoga helps.”

“I’m sorry, I’d been trained to fight Nazis, not aliens from another dimension, Stark,” Steve said in that 1940s way that actually translated to “go find a rusty German flagpole and stick it straight up your ass”. I nodded, leaning back and lounging against the wall.

“So. When are you going to tell her?”

“What?”

“The thing you were rehearsing a couple nights back – oh come on, you’re not the quietest. I needed some water.”

Capsicle gave me an icy glare – haha, get it? Icy? Alright – before looking away, hands clasped in front of him.

“Come on, how bad can it be? You might have a stick rammed shoved so far up your ass that you can see it when you talk, but you’ve got a few things going for you: You’re a good looking man, you’re not Loki, and most importantly, you’re not Loki…” I shrugged, looking down at him.

“She loves him. I heard her.”

“So did I, but she also recognizes that he’s a mass murdering psychopath and that loving him is stupid.”

“She’s having his kid, Stark.”

“And you really want Loki to get the chance to be a father? Really?”

Steve just sighed, taking his head.

“How can a guy like me go up to a gal like her, who isn’t even really mortal at this point, and say something like that?”

“Well the Romans used to do it with goats. Have one of those handy?”

“I can’t even begin to describe how unhelpful you are, Stark.”

It was true – I guess that my heart was torn in conflict between my desire to make sure that Loki got as far removed from Dove’s eventual life as possible and my deep, ingrained need to piss off Cappy whenever I opened my mouth. I slapped Cap on the back (to his continued annoyance).

“Well, make up your mind fast, Sleeping Beauty. Because Loki’s itching to get her back and you’re going to lose your chance the second this war is over – and I for one want to make sure that she’s way the hell away from him by the time he comes looking.”

I walked away, giving a backward glance at Cap. He was thinking – you could tell by how frustrated he looked – and watching the cute blonde goddess, jaw tight.

Honestly I wasn’t sure if the good captain was the right fit for the kid. At this moment, though, I really didn’t care – because even if the blasted god had helped us, even if he was turning a new leaf, at this point there was only one qualification that I really had for Dove’s suitors:

Not Loki.



Steve kept looking at me.

As soon as he realized that I was looking back at him he’d turn away, suddenly interested in a plate or the waves rolling outside of our window. But as the day went on – through meals, through training, through the two hours of Fight Club that Tony made us sit through – I kept noticing him, his eyes raising hairs on the back of my neck.

As the evening drew in I finally grew tired of it – between this and his tirade about good fathers a few nights before, Steve had been giving me a lot of crap that I just didn’t understand. Sometimes I thought he hated me, sometimes I thought he didn’t trust me, sometimes I thought we were a great team. But it infuriated that around everyone else – besides maybe Tony – he was this fun, albeit a bit proper guy, but the second I walked into the room it was all 1940’s aloofness and judgment.

I hated that. He could distrust me, fine, but he didn’t have the right to judge or blame me. What had happened wasn’t my fault. I was Loki’s prisoner before I was his lover, and before all that I was an agent just like him.

“Steve. I need to talk to you.”

He looked up, feigning surprise – as if he didn’t already know that I was there. He stood, carefully excusing himself from the rest of the room. This wasn’t hard: most of the room was divided into pairs, save Bruce who had allied himself with Tony and Pepper. She was stepping back as they toyed with a terrifying looking device with too many levers.

I waved him around the corner and he followed, only turning on him when we were alone.

“You need to stop.”

“Excuse me?”

I glared at him, folding my arms over my chest defensively.

“Whatever you’re doing, whatever you’re judging me for – I’m sorry, but I can’t change what I am or who I’ve been involved with or what’s happened to me. So stop… hovering.”

“I’m not hovering.”

“Then glaring. Judging. Waiting for me to mess up. Whatever. I just…”

I paused, reigning myself in. I could feel my power crackle over my fingers as my frustration escalated.

“I can’t do this, Steve. I beat myself up about everything enough already – what’s happened to me, how I feel about Loki despite everything he’s done. I just deal with you beating up on me, too.”

He looked at me, blinked – then, surprisingly, chuckled.

“Wait Dove. You’ve got some of this wrong. First off, though, I’m sorry. I have been hard on you: I don’t really know how to deal with your situation, and ever since I woke up everything has been in a lot more shades of gray than I’ve been used to. You’ve been one of the toughest to figure out, and honestly, I’m still working on it. But I haven’t been so… strange, I suppose, because I’m mad at you or upset with you.”

“Then why.”

“Do you need a break?”

I blinked. “What?”

“A break. A vacation. Honestly, I’m pretty sure that I’ve met few people who smile less than you do at this point. Do you need to get out of here?”

This was bizarre. First off, I wasn’t really aware that Captain America was aware of the concept of taking a night off. Second, the idea that his stoic judgment had actually been strangely concealed concern was just… beyond me really.

“I… don’t think I’d be allowed to, honestly. Leave, I mean. Alone.”

“Who said you had to go alone? I’d been itching to get a night out on the town myself.”

Steve glanced back at the other room for a moment before turning back to me, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked almost… cute?

“So hey, how about it? A night out. You have flight, or I have the jet. There’s got to be a fair in town somewhere – or we could go dancing, if that’s something you’re in to. It’ll be my way of apologizing for everything I’ve ever said or done since you became immortal.”

He looked at me from under his blonde bangs that had started to fall in front of his eyes, and with some dismay I realized that I’d started blushing. I averted my gaze.

“Sure, sounds fun… As long as you don’t start quoting wisdom from the 1940s in the middle of it,” I added, shrugging in a way I hope was nonchalant. He gave a shrug that was equally awkward.

“Great. Sounds great.”

He dug his hands into the pockets of the jeans he wore. I would have done the same if I wasn’t wearing a dress.

So.

“So, your ride or mine?” he asked, turning to me.

“Shouldn’t we tell the others we’re leaving?”

“Nah, I’m sure they’ll figure it out.”

For a moment I had a fear that Steve wasn’t really Steve, maybe an illusion by Loki or some other god. This was just such a different side of him that I’d never seen before. I probed at him with my power carefully, verifying.

“We’ll take my ride, if you don’t mind trying something new and possibly not altogether safe,” I said. Then, focusing on what I’d seen Loki do before, I took Steve’s arm and we disappeared.



We disappeared and reappeared many times over that night. The first time we appeared at the first place that I could picture, nestled deep in the heart of the United States: My father’s house.

I hadn’t been there often, but I always remembered it better than any place that I’d ever lived. It had gotten old now, abandoned, and cobwebs clung to the walls now with broken plaster on the walls – still, I regarded the small apartment with the same bittersweet fondness that I always did when I came here. It’d been a few years since the last time I was here; not since the last time that my mother had been remarried, when I’d gotten annoyed and run off. Still, it was a haven for me. This hovel of concrete was the closest thing that my father had ever been given to a real grave, and when I was at my lowest I’d come here to talk to him. It wasn’t too hard: the building had been abandoned for almost ten years at this point, and there was too much crime in other places in the city to police a girl entering a vacant apartment.

“What is this place?” Steve asked, looking around at the barren walls and the dead light above.

“It was my dad’s house. First place I thought of.”

Steve went around, regarding the walls and peering out the dusty glass.

“Big city guy?”

“Yeah, Detroit. His dad worked in the auto industry before it crashed. Mom said he’d always been afraid to leave the city because his dad got too sick when he was old.”

“The auto industry in Detroit crashed?”

“Yeah, in the early 2000s.”

“Damn. I loved coming out here with Buck. His dad always drove out to see their big auto show.”

Steve and I walked around Detroit for a while: I showed him the skeletons of old buildings, and for some of them he told me what they used to look like.

“This one, here, big yellow front with this huge flashing sign,” he told me, “It was ugly as hell, but it’d was a landmark Buck and I would use to know if we were getting close to the show.”

We walked around a state carnival in New York a while later. Hanging lights illuminated carousels and small booths, clown faces and mirror mazes. I forced Steve to try an elephant ear – he found a new guilty pleasure – and, out of chivalry or maybe just to embarrass me, he won this oversized white rabbit plush (and almost killed the booth owner in the process). I lugged the giant thing around and laughed, teasing him a little when we both got large scoops of ice cream and he walked around for half an hour before realizing he got a large blotch of vanilla on his chin.

“Is this what the world looks like to you?” he asked, staring out over the fair. We hung at the top of the Ferris wheel, watching the lights extend for miles in each direction before giving away to skyscrapers and water.

“I suppose, though it feels different when there’s nothing below you but sky. It makes things feel more infinite somehow.”

“This feels pretty infinite right now.”

He turned toward me as our cage started to fall, patting the giant rabbit that I held awkwardly in my arms.

“Want to go dancing?”

We ended up outside a restaurant. I looked at it, confused, wondering why Steve had brought me dancing at a place that people go to eat dinner.

“What is this place?”

“The Stork Club. What used to be, anyway.”

His forehead pressed against the stone, as if transferring a memory into it, or greeting it after a long time.

“Was this a place that was important to you?”

“Oh, it was fancy alright, but nothing too special. I’d just promised someone that I’d go dancing here one more time. I guess I’ve doubly failed on that promise.”

He pushed back from the wall, his fingers touching the stones longingly before he turned to look at me.

“Well, there goes my good idea. Anywhere else you’ve been itching to see?”

I watched him, feeling my heart break a little more with each second. He just looked so… lost. Is this what I looked like to him, sitting alone on the island? No wonder he couldn’t look away.

“No, wait Steve,” said, carefully putting the large rabbit down on the sidewalk. I walked up to him, taking his hand and putting it on my waist before holding up the other for a waltz.

“It might not look the same, but it’s still playing music,” I offered hopefully. After a long moment he nodded, and we danced on the sidewalk to the distant sound of a waltz.



I stayed up until the kids got home – well, the kid and the fossil, I suppose – and had Jarvis scan for when they returned. Yeah, it wasn’t nice, but I bugged the rooms: when it came to coworker relations I loved to know all the latest gossip. To be honest I actually added the bugs in case Loki came knocking, but tonight I decided I could use the bugs with a little less orthodoxy.

“Tony, are you sure about this?” Pepper asked, though with little commitment: she knew that she had to, by contract, act as the voice of morality and reason, but she was just as interested in the intercom system as I was.

“Shush, I think I heard something.”

<Mr. Rogers and Ms. Lancaster incoming, sir,> Jarvis said calmly, but before he finished speaking I heard –

“Dove!”

Footsteps. A door thrown open. The distinct sound of retching before a flushing toilet.

”I’m so sorry, I ruined everything,” Dove apologized. “I just… I didn’t realize how sick I might get…”

“It’s fine. It’s a pregnancy thing.”

“I know. I’m sorry. For a while… I’d forgotten about the baby.”

“Yeah… I had, too.”

Cap and the godling were silent over the intercom for a while. Pepper and I shared a look, pitying both of them. Dates were hard, even when one or both parties didn’t realize they were on a date.

”I loved tonight, Steve. Thank you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine. You look a lot better with a smile on.”

“Oh, so I was ugly before?” Dove asked – I could hear the teasing, and in my hope flirting, in her voice.

“Ma’am, you’re the farthest thing from ugly I’ve seen in a long, long time.”

Pepper made an excited gasp and I looked at her, pointing at the intercom and mouthing “knew it!”. We giggled together and I kissed her goddamn beautiful face, setting the wine glass she held down on the table. We started shushing each other as they started talking again, holding to each other like two high schoolers watching a romantic comedy.

“Thank you, Steve,” Dove said, sounding shy and unsure in that way she did when you knew she was tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’m flattered, really, and I’d… I don’t know what to say.”

“Because of Loki.”

“Yes, because of Loki.”

“Dammit,” I whispered, making obscene gestures at the intercom in my quiet frustration. “Just make out already, like two kids under the bleachers.”

Pepper put her hands over my mouth and shushed me again, but quietly giggled. I mouthed a dramatic “WHY” at her and mimed a noose around my neck. She kissed me and I shut up.

“With Loki… Look, I know that he helped us and all, but do you really think he’s a good man for you?” Steve asked. The intercom crackled while Dove thought.

“No, he’s not good for me. I know that, but –“

“ – Dove, do you think… maybe – “

“Maybe what?”

“Maybe there’s someone else out there who’d make you happier? Like really happy? Not this strange, crazy…. I don’t even know what to call it. Dove, are you sure this is what you want?”

“He can be wonderful sometimes, Steve, you’ve just never seen it.”

“He can also try to wipe the city of New York off the map while laughing. You’ve never seen that. Dove, what about someone who will make you smile, or laugh, or even just not make you break into tears every time he runs off and leaves you on your own? Or someone who isn’t going to hurt you because of some imagined grudge match with his brother?”

The intercom crackled for a long moment, until Steve finally added:

“Someone who’ll notice when you’re down and take you out dancing.”

“Oh my god he said it,” I blurted out, running my fingers through my hair. “Did you just hear that? Didn’t he just say it? That was like a Capsicle version of saying ‘I love you’, right? Did he just -?”

“Quiet, Tony,” Pepper snapped, slapping my arm. I feigned hurt but did as she asked, especially because there were new words coming out of the little hissing box.

“I don’t know what to say, Steve, I just… I can’t entertain this right now. You understand why. You know that it’s only because of me and the… the baby growing inside of me that Loki even considered helping us. I can’t… If he thought that… God, Steve.”

“You’re afraid of having the baby.”

“Oh god, yes. I’m not ready. I’m just so, so scared, I’m not ready to be a mom, to be someone’s wife, to be whatever this is. I just don’t know – I feel so, so alone.”

“Well of course you feel alone, Dove. Just think about it! You’re here, going through all of this – becoming a god, fighting a war, having a kid – and the person responsible for all of this has taken off and assumed no responsibility for the damage he’s caused in your life. Where the hell is he, Dove? If he cares as much as he says he does, why is he letting all of this happen to you? I’ll believe he thinks you’re beautiful, I’ll believe he thinks you’re the most amazing girl he’s ever seen, but there’s no way I’ll believe he loves you until he shows up here and treats you right. And frankly, I don’t think he deserves that chance at this point.”

There was silence after the outburst, which gave me time to lift my jaw from the floor. So Captain Spanglypants did have some balls after all. In the hissing I could almost hear Capsicle collecting his thoughts, that or reigning in his temper.

“Dove, say things were different. Say you weren’t a god, your loyalty to Loki didn’t determine the fate of mankind – you were just a kid who got her life flipped by a baby and you were left on the curb by the guy who did it to you. Could you see us then, mortal to mortal?”

“If I were some knocked up girl, you wouldn’t look at me twice.”

“I’d always look at you.”

Pepper made a noise indicating that she’d found this romantic. I snorted.

“Well, if things were different… then yes. I could see us together. I could see us happy.”

“Alright. Then I’ll wait and hope that things turn out differently.”

There was a pause. Pepper held her hand over her heart.

“Goodnight, Dove. I’ll see you in the morning.”



“Goodnight.”

By the time I said anything he’d already left, leaving me alone in the dark sitting room with the giant white rabbit he won me. I pulled it to my chest, trying to ignore the tears that had been sitting in my eyes for most of our conversation.

He cared about me. More than that, he’d made me feel happy again, for the first time in so long being able to just enjoy the night and laugh and smile and live like a regular human being. Hell, I hadn’t felt that happy since… since…

“Are these truly your desires, my love?”

Loki.