Tony had offered Steve and I rooms in the tower so we could stay the night, I'm assuming because he knew Steve would be here late chatting with Thor. So when my eyes started getting heavy and I noticed that the group was wanting to talk about things that I wasn't cleared to hear, I excused myself and went to bed.

The guest room was nice, of course, but the bed was where it's at. It's absolutely amazing. I was asleep in just a few minutes. Unfortunately, it didn't last.

I wake with a start, sweaty and with tears streaming downs my face and into my hair.

'Gross.'

My heart is racing. I can't remember what I dreamt, but I can guess. Lately, my only nightmares have been either of Steve being killed by bad guys in a myriad of ways – 'I'm apparently very creatively morbid' – or imagining my mother's final moments. Whichever was tonight's, I know I won't be going back to sleep any time soon.

I lie a moment longer before deciding to go get myself a drink or something. I had brought basketball shorts, Tribble socks, and an oversized Nerd Herd shirt for pajamas; so I don't worry about changing before venturing out into the dark.

The long hallways have dim lights positioned every so often allowing me to see well enough. It's almost three in the morning, and I'm not sure if everyone made it to bed yet. But just in case, I tiptoe past Steve's room and the other guest rooms on the floor before I make it to the elevator. Once the doors slide shut, JARVIS asks, "where to, Miss Éowyn?"

"The kitchen, please." The first time I had heard JARVIS speak out of nowhere, I nearly jumped out of my skin. While I'm mostly used to him now, I still find him a little unsettling. And it doesn't help that Tony programmed him to only call me by my first name. There's nothing I can say to get JARVIS to call me anything else.

In no time at all, the elevator doors open again and I find myself in the kitchen. Knowing I'd never be able to find a light switch if there even is one, I ask, "JARVIS, would you please turn the kitchen lights on to about 40%?"

The lights glow to life and I move to the fridge to see if Tony has any milk. "Yes, good..." I stick my head further in, searching for one more ingredient... "JARVIS, does Tony have any chocolate syrup?"

"Third shelf, behind the mayonnaise, Miss Éowyn."

"Ah. Thank you, JARVIS." It may seem strange, my being polite to an AI, but I've learned from the mistakes of others in almost every science fiction show ever made – be nice to the machines. Besides, JARVIS is so nice, I usually think of him as an actual man somewhere who just does everything for Tony remotely.

Anyway, I have milk and chocolate syrup now, so I set them on the counter and grab a whiskey glass. Tony would probably yell at me, but it's the exact right size, what's a girl to do?

After mixing my drink and putting the milk and syrup away, I sit myself at the bar and start sipping. I glance around the kitchen, looking for some monotonous drudgery to fixate on with the hopes of lulling myself back to sleep. I find nothing. Tony's kitchen is far too fancy and shiny to be dull. Sighing pathetically, I turn back to my drink.

"Lady Anne?" A voice calls from the dark. Not startling at all.

"Yeah?..." I scan the black hallway across from me. Thor steps into the lit kitchen and I relax a bit. "Oh, hello Thor."

'Very casual. Excellent progress.'

"I thought you had retired for the evening?" He asks politely as he crosses his absurdly large arms beside me.

"Oh, I did. I um, I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep." Gossiping about my nightmares with frickin' Thor seems ridiculous. "What are you doing up so early?" I ask in an attempt to divert the conversation.

"I never slept." He grins. "I was just now making my way to bed."

"You sleep on the same floor as the kitchen?" My forehead crinkles in my confusion.

His deep chuckle resonates through the empty room. "No, I was merely procuring a light snack to settle my stomach before bed."

"Ah. Please, don't let me stop you."

He tilts his head and moves to the fridge, pulling out a plate stacked with sandwiches. A grin settles upon his face as he settles upon a seat near me. One full sandwich disappears before I drink half of my glass. "Lady Anne, may I pose a question?"

I smile at the courtly address. "You may, if I may ask some of my own." I'm not about to ask him to just call me Anne. This is the only way I'll ever be a lady.

Thor nods, pleased. "An agreeable arrangement."

"Please, ask away."

"When first I arrived, I asked as to your situation. You were unable to elaborate and I am afraid to admit that I am still at a loss as to who you are."

'That was very diplomatic.'

"You mean to say that you don't understand why I'm here," I rephrase for him, continuing before he responds. "Well, I'm obviously not a member of the Avengers. I'm just a friend of Steve's; just your average, everyday, run-of-the-mill, mortal next door. I'm not hero material." I shrug disinterestedly.

His glance at the scar along my arm and subsequent eye contact tell me that he is unconvinced. He opens his mouth to ask another question, but I stop him.

"Ah-ah. My turn."

Thor smiles good-naturedly so I continue.

"Did you really dress as Freya in a bridal gown to regain your hammer from the giants of Jötunheim?" Never did I ever expect to see the day that Thor blushes. He sputters for a moment before I end his misery. "That's answer enough. Did you have another question for me?"

After regaining his control of his tongue, he says, "The Captain, he spoke some of your courageous deed." He gestured to my scar. "Would you tell the tale?"

I'm not surprised that he wants to hear a story of a skirmish. "If you want. But I'm afraid you won't find it very exciting, not after the stories of glory you're used to hearing."

He smiles kindly. "Nonetheless, it would shed light upon the character of one who has so recently spent a great deal of time with my own friends."

"All right." I tell him the basics, not lingering on how much I'd wanted to puke on Steve's sneakers when I saw the pool of blood. "So then they stitched me up at the hospital and that's also when I really met the rest of the Avengers- excepting you, of course. They were concerned that something had happened to Steve, since they couldn't contact him and they tracked him to where I was. Now, my turn again."

I pause long enough to see him grow slightly nervous. "Since you have a girlfriend in Midgard, I'll assume that you aren't married to Sif, so I won't waste a question on that. And since I've seen you use Mjølnir to fly, I'm guessing you probably don't have a chariot drawn by flying goats. So, I guess, um, I dunno...what's your favorite food that you've found in Midgard?" Really lame, I know, but what do you ask Thor? I wasn't expecting to be able to actually ask him questions, I'm unprepared. I make a terrible nerd.

Fittingly, his grin sets his face alight like a flash of lightening. "Ah, a tough question for there have been many wondrous new delicacies I have tried during my time here. But, if pressed, I need must credit the Poptarts as holding that honor."

"A solid, respectable choice." I say with a chuckle, wondering how many he must go through in a sitting. He's already downed three sandwiches since he sat down.

"Now, I believe it is my question to ask. Why do you not consider the saving of a life heroic? You prevented the murder of a stranger at the risk of your own life and the price of bodily harm to your person. Are these not the qualities of a hero?" His previously playful demeanor has shifted to serious curiosity.

'What do I say to that?'

"I-I, well, those are some qualities that a hero could possess, I admit. But, after growing up being fed tales of true, selfless heroes and meeting some in person...well, I suppose my standards are rather high. I mean, I'm a librarian's assistant. I'm not even qualified to be an actual librarian. I get stubbed toes and paper cuts, not bullet holes or knife wounds." I pause. "Well, except for that night. But that was a fluke." Looking to my fingers as they twist and pick at each other, I continue, "heroes, whether born or made, are so much...more. Their life, their choices, their sacrifices are all so much more than a single action, a single decision on a single night of their life. What I did, anyone would have done if they were able. Heroes are distinguished by their continuing courage and determination to do what's right. They're...'other', I suppose, an ideal. Something for us to aspire to...and well, I'm just, me."

Thor remained quiet, letting me speak. He ponders my words before answering. "Would you consider our friends, Captain Rogers and Tony Stark, to be heroes? To be men of distinction? Intelligent and discerning?"

Unsure where he's going with this, I nod slowly. "Of course. They're both very smart in their own ways, Tony in material and science smarts, Steve in his strategy and understanding of people."

Thor nods back, encouraged by my answer. "Why then, Lady Anne, would they allow someone who is as unworthy as you claim to be, into the inner workings of our alliance? Either you are doing both them and yourself a disservice or you are deceiving 'Earth's mightiest heroes'."

'If Thor can be this convincing, I'd be terrified to see why they say Loki is the one with the silver tongue.'

In my tongue-tied hesitation, Thor finishes, "if you will not believe reason, believe your companions, allies, and friends. They see you truly and without the biases you hold against yourself."

"All right, I surrender." I hold my hands up. "But if I turn into some sort of delusional megalomaniac after this, you'll be completely to blame," I smile.

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A/N and a peek behind the curtain: I'm not really sure where this chapter came from. It sort of feels like it just wrote itself *insert The Twilight Zone theme*. I do feel like Thor tends to get the short end of the stick in a lot of fanfictions when it comes to his intelligence and intuition so I guess that plays a part in this. Anyway. Shawarma, anyone?