Obligatory Disclaimer : I do not own anything (except maybe OC characters) all characters, places, worlds, universes…etc mentioned here belong to their respective owners and/or companies.

This is purely a work of fiction. Not meant to offend or incite, but to entertain and (maybe) inspire.

WOLVES LAUGH TOO

“Agent Coulson,” Upon alighting the H-Line Supercar, I greeted, shaking the suited man’s hand and holding it “Where’s my Foxcharge?” I leveled my gaze at him, meaning I had to now bend my head lower as I stool a whole head taller than the man. He adjusted his glasses, the glaring shine of the afternoon sun reflected on the dark surface of his shades.

“Budapest happened Sir” He answered calmly, firmly pulling his hand away but still managing to keep a neutral smile on his face.

“Budapest” I let the words simmer, a multi-billion dollar project disappeared overnight and Shield was still being vague, trying to keep the wraps over it, despite all I had contributed to its development. Heh, spy organizations always trying to one-up their partners. Let them, after all they weren’t the only ones with secrets or schemes.

From how close we stood, I could hear his heartbeat with my enhanced senses. It remained steady, trained over the years to be so.

My steely stare turned into a playful smile – if Agent Coulson was disturbed by it, he gave nothing away to show such, except maybe the micro twitch of his jaw and the thin perspiration patch on his nape – things I wouldn’t have noticed if my vision was still normal.

I clapped his shoulders in humor, gesturing for us to proceed and watching him silently groan as he led me along.

“You’re taller”

“So it seems”

“And younger”

“Vacations can do wonders to people. You should try it sometimes” I caught the silent suspicious hmm at the end of his words and decided to stop over analyzing things.

Calm down Hammer, this isn’t a Chinese xianxia cultivation scenario where every single action had a bazillion meanings behind them. Paranoia is a powerful thing.

|*.*.*.*|

The god of thunder was feeling awfully disrespected at this moment. He had tried re-claiming his Mjolnir, but he enchantment placed on it by the All-father made it so that he couldn't, unless he was worthy.

Worthy. He snorted at that. What was it even supposed to mean? Wasn’t he one of Asgard’s greatest warriors, he, Asgard’s favorite, the golden haired prince of valor, bravery and courage, he, the god of thunder. How much more worthy could one be for the enchantment to consider them worthy of wielding Mjolnir.

Was the All-father expecting him to bow and prostate? He was an Odinson, and if there was one thing Odinson’s did not do, it was kneel before another. The All-father had gone soft from seating for too long on his throne.

And then it was the mortals. They had shot him with their magical devices that spat tongues of electricity. But he had not gone down without a fight – a fight that left him muddied and bruised. He might not admit it, but he was beginning to … like the humans. Not all of them, especially the son of Coul – that one was smiling at him while he got beaten.

But he respected them. The humans were colorful and lively, so short lived yet to vibrant, they were unique in a certain way that none others were. Maybe that was why Asgard defended them during the war against the Ice giants. He hoped to Odin that the scholar called Jane Foster was fine. He had taken a liking to her.

She was wise and perceptive – perhaps she had also noticed his attraction towards her. Maybe this was all a work of the fates leading him to meeting his soul mate. He thought of her silky black hair – as smooth as the feathers of Hugin. Her smile that brought warmth to his heart.

Thor shook his head. Why was he acting this way when he’d just met her not even fortnight ago. Thor grunted as he pulled at his cursed cuffs – all the clanging and clattering managing to just bruise his wrists more and leave him short for breath. He the god of thunder, short for breath for such meager actions, Thor lamented. His god-force locked away beneath a mortal exterior. It was in his blood but no matter how he tried he couldn’t access it.

For the first time in his life Thor felt the silence of the voice – the voice that had been there since his birth – the call of thunder, it was still there, just dead silent.

It rendered him mortal and vulnerable – something he hadn’t felt since he was but a babe. It also went to show just how powerful the All-father was, no matter how soft Thor assumed he had become.

The door to his cell groaned open. Thor turned to look at the man in the fine black coat and trousers the human’s called suit walked in. The man looked to be about his height or some lengths taller but much younger.

Judging from his gait and posture Thor could tell that the man was a warrior of some kind – the musculature which enabled one to move in such a manner could only be earned by unimaginable hard work and relentless battles.

Thor could differentiate. The agents of the Shield who had taken him into his cell were trained and sharp but still humans, but this man seemed a step above them in physique. Thor would know, he had wrestled with more creatures than he could care to count – his experience spoke to him.

Then the man took his dark glasses off to reveal clear black eyes staring right back at Thor’s blue. Thor squinted, he had caught a glimpse of that face before… somewhere. The lord of thunder tensed, ready to defend himself when the man reached into a coat pocket.

The man smiled – Thor remembered the television in the eatery Jane had taken him to, that’s where he had seen the face, albeit a bit more aged.

The man retrieved something wrapped in plastic, Thor caught a fragrant whiff of the fruity scented thing as the man popped it into his mouth… they stared at each other in pregnant silence. The man smiled as he enjoyed the sweet. Thor frowning, wondering what the man was playing at.

“Well are you going to offer me one of those, or just stand there and adore me?” Thor broke the silence. He wasn’t much of a patient god.

The man laughed, loud and jolly. “I won’t lie, it’s a real pleasure meeting you” He said, handing Thor one of his prized sweet & sour strawberry flavored sweets. Justin Hammer watched the god of thunder fumble frustratingly with the wrapping before he just tossed the whole unwrapped thing into his mouth, crushed it, spat out the plastic and then proceeded to enjoy the flavor.

He was actually meeting a god, a real god. His smile widened. This was an opportunity that fell right into his lap. This moment proved more that he truly was in a vast universe with fantastical elements.

“They tell me you’re supposed to be the god of thunder”

“Tis what I am” Thor affirmed, watching the man’s slightly mocking gaze.

“I don’t see much thunder though. Performance issues?” Hammer joked. Thor unable to find it funny. “That your Hammer outside”

“Mjolnir is more than just a hammer. The all-father locked away my god-force and here I am stranded on Midgard without my thunder or a barrel of mead. And would you for goodness sake loosen these odin-damned restraints!”

The man stood above the god of thunder, silently staring down at him. It unnerved Thor. “What is it?” Thor demanded.

Hammer smirked. “Do you bleed?”

Thor recognized that that question was supposed to be rhetorical. He was going to list this man amongst the mortals he didn’t like. Thor felt a painful prick on his shoulder, where the man placed his hand.

It was a distraction from the micro needles inserted into his thighs that silently drained his blood into a series of ant sized tubes.

The god glared at the man, being none the wiser of the occurring actions.

“Sorry” Hammer apologized weakly, retrieving the micro tubes of blood. The needles reverting into hidden tracers laced into Thor’s subcutaneous layer. “It’s just so amazing to meet an actual god. And you the most famous, most brave one at that.” Justin reached for the restraints “Here please allow me to help you with those” He loosened them, allowing the god of thunder to rub his bruised wrists.

“Haha,” He was a fan after all. Thor thought, how could he blame another warrior for admiring him so, it was only natural after all. “You’re not so bad, good man. What is your name and title?”

“Oh, how rude of me. I am Justin Hammer, Earth’s wisest mortal” The man, Hammer, bowed.

For him to show such courtesy and respect, Thor agreed that he truly was as he claimed. He was about to ask to ask a favor, but he was interrupted by another walking into his cell.

It was the son of Coul. “Sir, how did you get in here? You’re not supposed to be in here.”

“Oh, come on Coulson, don’t be such a boy scout”

“Sir, I’ll have to ask you to leave. This is a restricted area” Coulson affirmed. Hammer was supposed to look at the weapon and give them an in depth analysis. The director thought they might need his insight on it, to which Phil Coulson thought was another way of saying that they needed the genius mind of the smartest men on the planet to have an inkling of what the hell they were dealing with. It also helped that Hammer ruled when it came to weapons.

“Son of Coul, do not be rude to the man.”

Agent Coulson sighed, wondering how his day just kept getting harder. “It's Coulson.” He corrected.

“That was what I said, son of Coul”

“Sigh Sir, this way please” Phil Coulson gestured towards the door. Hammer nodded, turned to the god of thunder and said his goodbyes. “We’ll meet again Thor Odinson, lord of thunder.”

“Indeed we shall, Justin Hammer, Midgard’s wisest.”

Justin Hammer made his exit, unable to wipe the wide grin off his face.

Thor and Coulson stared at each other. The god challenged the human – who was now number one on his list of disliked mortals – to do something. The agent wondering how to resolve the massive headache and all the issues that came with a delusional alien.

“Things couldn't get anymore worse”

|*.*.*.*.*.*.*|