So twice five miles of fertile ground

With walls and towers were girdled round;

And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,

Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;

And here were forests ancient as the hills,

Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

Jane's intake of breath was deep as she stood at Loki's door. She was nervous, mostly because she felt like an idiot, but also because she would be divulging things to this guy. She didn't like Thor all that much. He was attractive, to be sure, but she had spoken to him, like, twice. Jane was the type of woman who needed a bit more than one or two quick conversations to make her swoon.

She knocked.

It was 8:10.

Loki opened the door and smiled. "You're late."

"Sorry," and she walked passed him. "I had a time finding a parking space."

She took in the place.

Wow.

It was old.

It had hardwood floors, a fireplace, a bank of windows opposite the entry. Very spacious.

The ceilings were not terribly high…so the place felt cozy. Large doors were stationed around the room, suggesting that there were many other rooms to be found…and a window seat, she noticed, at the bay window in the eating area.

"This place is great, Loki," and she smiled.

"Yes, well…I like an antiquated look."

"Most Lit people do," and she sat down on the sofa.

He joined her. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Nah…let's get started," and she took out her stuff.

Loki silently wished they could talk a bit, but Jane had a one track mind. "Very well…shall we read the poem to start?"

"Alright," and she read it aloud.

He leaned back and listened to her voice chant the verse. It was lovely, listening to her…she tripped a bit over certain parts, but on the whole, she performed it well.

"Poetry," he began, "Is performance art, first and foremost. And I'd say you've done rather well in that area…for a scientist," he smirked.

"Great. But what does it mean?"

He smiled. "Allow me to give you some background on how Coleridge composed this particular poem…" he paused, and leaned forward, then decided to obtain some wine, despite Jane's decline for drink.

He came back in with two glasses and handed her one. "The Romantics, one might say, were the hippies of their time. They were experimental with many things…they were nature-lovers…and Coleridge tarried long in such pursuits. He did, in 1797, experience a bout of dysentery, and took opium to see to his malady. He then walked along the Bristol Channel to an old farmhouse and fell asleep reading Samuel Purchase's "Purchase His Pilgrimage." He awoke some time later with these images filling his mind's eye, and penned them. They became that poem you just recited so delightfully."

"So…he was high?"

"More or less. And Coleridge didn't care for the verse. He believed it lacked poetic merit."

"Oh," Jane replied. "So…it doesn't mean anything, unless you're on opium."

Loki laughed. "Sometimes, my dear, the images are enough to justify lack of meaning…and what is meaning anyway? Such things are subjective."

"See? That's why I like the sciences. There are meanings, there are right and wrong answers…"

"But without creativity and a critical mind, advancement of your sciences would stalemate. And there is, you surely know, such a thing as theoretical physics…the further one advances in the study, the more odd and more implausible things seem…and therein lies the subjectivity and room for meaning massage…." and he took a sip of wine.

"I guess," and she shrugged and sipped as well.

"Tell me, where did you grow up?"

She glared at him. "We are supposed to be working on my paper."

"We are, you recall, engaging in a quid pro quo, Jane. Tell me, and I'll tell you something about Thor…"

She sighed. "Well…I grew up in Philadelphia. I mean, outside of Philly…no one ever grows up in Philly…ever notice that?" and she smiled, and looked at him.

He returned her smile.

"Anyway, when I was twelve, my mom was diagnosed with lung cancer. Weird, because she hardly ever smoked…but she died about a year later. It was really, really hard…ten years ago now since she was diagnosed," she finished with a whisper. "Well, then my dad, two years later, was in this massive car accident. He died three weeks later in a coma."

"My god, Jane. I'm sorry," and he was sincere.

"Yeah, it was pretty horrible. Fifteen, and suddenly an orphan. Weird, that…bit young to be without any parent, but old enough to really understand the meaning of it all, and to feel utterly alone…" she took another sip. "So… I went to live with Eric Selvig, my dad's business partner," she paused. "Hey. I've just given you a lot of information…my turn," and she smiled, a bit wickedly.

He cleared his throat. "Very well, what would you like to know?"

Jane sat back in the sofa…what did she want to know about Thor? And only one thing came to mind…"Does he have a girlfriend?"

Loki looked at her. "Why would I be trying to set you up with my brother if he was already in a relationship?"

"Oh my god. Sorry…that was the only thing that I could think of to ask…."

"You're not very good at this, are you?"

She shot him a glare. "That's not fair. Alright, fine. Why did he drop out of Harvard?"

Loki set his glass down. He was hoping she would simply ask him the same question as he had asked her. "Thor dropped out, because our father…his father…gave him an offer, as they say, he couldn't refuse."

"His father?"

"I am adopted," and he looked at his hands.

"Oh…wow."

He smiled weakly.

"Yeah, come to think of it, you guys don't share many physical characteristics, except maybe your height…"

"He's a bit taller," he mumbled.

"Well, you're both insanely tall…" Jane paused. "What was the offer?"

"Partner at the family business."

"Oh…and he didn't give you the same opportunity?"

"No," and Loki sat back. "Odin and I don't often see eye to eye. He dislikes my choice of study…he dislikes where I live…he dislikes my clothes, my hair…"

"Your clothes and hair? How old are you?"

"Twenty five."

"Yeah…he shouldn't give a shit. Why doesn't he like your hair?" And Jane looked at it…raven black, about to his shoulders…he looked like a Lit PhD student, in her opinion.

"I have no idea."

"The length?"

"Perhaps…"

"But Thor has long hair…" Jane recalled. "What a stupid thing."

He shrugged. "So…that is why Thor left Harvard with two terms remaining before he completed his B.S."

"What was he studying, again? I forget…" Jane wasn't at Harvard yet when he dropped out. She had met him at the bar in Somerville, it was the closest place to her apartment.

"Psychology."

"Ew."

And Loki laughed. "It has its merits."

"I have found that Psych students are former Bio majors who couldn't hack it."

"That is, as you say, unfair…Psychology is a respected discipline, Jane."

"Whatever…Ok…can we get back to this now?"

He nodded, and they began.

"Oh my god…not really?!" Jane was laughing hysterically.

"And then…when she was refused, she attempted to sucker punch him," Loki laughed.

They were a bit more than tipsy, having consumed the bottle completely…and Loki was retelling a story about one of the grad students in the Lit department…

"Over a fucking paper? You guys are intense."

"We love our study," and he sat back.

He looked at Jane.

She was flushed from drink, and her eyes sparkled with wet tears from her violent laughter.

She was lovely.

He cleared his throat. "How would you like to see the garden?"

"The garden?" and Jane looked outside.

It was pitch dark.

"Um…I don't think that I'll be able to see much, Loki…it's dark outside."

And he leaned toward her a bit. "That is where you are mistaken, Jane…allow me to show you…"

And he offered her his hand.

And Jane, with a hint of uncertainty, took it.

Loki led her to the garden (he lived on the third floor of an old Victorian house), and they stopped in the center.

There was a water feature, and old stone wall surrounding, and low-hanging trees…Jane couldn't make out the color of the flowers, but she could smell their fragrance, and it had a heady effect on her.

The grass, she could feel, was soft…the earth just breaking its thaw, and wet with dew…

"…So twice five miles of fertile ground with walls and towers were girdled round; and there were gardens bright with sinuous rills, where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree…" he recited, close to her side. And then he pointed to the sky, "And here were forests ancient as the hills, enfolding sunny spots of greenery."

"The sky?" Jane asked.

"Forests as ancient as the hills…"

"Forests?" she repeated with some doubt.

"Can you not see them, Jane?" he asked, looking at her now.

So she looked upward…and the churn of particles meandering through the black in soft dance, a whirl of energy…and as she peered at it, she closed her eyes, and she saw the canopy of forest in the sky, the heavens bending in a seductive sweep, the trees mimicking the motion on the earth below.

And she smiled.

She opened her eyes and looked at Loki.

He was staring at her, a strange look on his face.

He swallowed, "Well, Jane…shall we continue tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow…" she repeated, and was snapped out of it. "Yeah…but um," and she cleared her throat. "I have something going on for dinner…so maybe more like nine?"

"On?"

"A date," she replied.

"Ah…I see…" he looked at his feet, shuffling them a bit. "Of course. Nine…here?"

"Here," and she turned to return to the house and retrieve her bag.

Loki followed her, and when she was ready to leave, she paused. "Thanks, Loki…tomorrow maybe we can write a bit…I'll tell you about some physics stuff," and she turned and left.

Loki nodded as she left.

Damn.

A date.

He hadn't really counted on that being a thing…he thought he'd be dealing exclusively with Thor.

Thor, who hardly knew that Jane was alive, and likely wouldn't be noticing her at all.

Thor, who was strung out on Sif, that lovely lawyer who was wicked wealthy and beloved by Odin…

But she wasn't giving him the time of day…

And he sniggered.

Well, he will just need to make certain that Jane forgets about her date tomorrow night. He enjoyed a slight victory in that he knew she wouldn't be going home with him.

Jane slumped into her easy chair in her apartment.

She got out her notebook and began to write.

She wrote about Coleridge, and the opium, and the sinuous rills, and the canopy above their heads of stars.

When she put down her paper, about two hours had passed, and she had thee pages written.

She needed 10-12.

She also needed a couple of secondary sources.

But it was a start.

She smiled at the memory of Loki reciting those lines in the garden in the moonlight…

And she thought that, if she was being honest, it was one of the most romantic things she ever had experienced.