“Plotting is such a harsh word,” he said. ”I’d prefer to call it problem-solving.” He offered a hand, and when she gingerly took it, they rose to their feet. He looked down at the much smaller being, remembering what fierce power was concealed there. Loki considered himself a scholar of people; fascinated by characters, the intricacies, motivations, secrets they thought no one could see. But he could read them.
Most of the time. ”Tell me, by what means did you come to Asgard?”
“The same way I always did,” she said, frowning up at him. “I walked between the realms.” Summer leaned back over and snagged her bottle, straightening up to blink at Loki. “You’ve just gotten out of prison and you want to cause trouble already? Because deliberately hitting all my turn-on zones just now wasn’t enough?”
Loki flinched. ”You say gotten out…it was more of an escape, if you recall. An escape which may or may not still be in progress.” He tangled his fingers together in thought.
“Asgard is an awful place. You must want to leave. Where do you want to go? I shapeshift into your form, ask to use the bifrost, considering you are not a wanted criminal…and you follow. No one will be the wiser. Yes?” He looked at her expectantly.
“I … haven’t been using the bifrost, Loki. Why don’t you just walk with me along the ways between.” Her mouth twisted a little, and she muttered, “Then you can explain to me just why I’m helping you escape. This is a bad idea.”