A/N: Okay, I couldn't leave this well enough alone. Ivy was knocking on my mind telling me that she wasn't done yet, so I agreed and started writing this again. I'm not sure if this is going to go anywhere farther than this chapter, but keep an eye out in case I do continue it.

Anyway, on with the show! Enjoy and let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: I do not own Loki. I simply like to borrow him and manipulate him in my mind's universe. :D

A young woman storms into her apartment around ten at night, immediately locking and dead-bolting the door. Security in place, she leans her back against the door and slides down until she is sitting on her butt, knees drawn up to her chest. She slowly leans down to unbuckle her heels and throw them across the room. Head flopping down onto her knees, she laments the awful day she had just endured.

First of all, she woke up late for her new job. Fresh out of college, this job working at a newspaper was her first one and being late once within the first month would probably not leave a good impression on her superiors. Rushing around her one-bedroom apartment, she manages to get through her morning routine and collect all of her items before running out the door. Then her car took fifteen minutes to start. Then traffic was horrendous. And there was no parking anywhere near her building. By the time she could get to work, she was an hour late.

Luckily, her new boss is fairly lenient and let her go with a warning. With that wonderful start to her day, Ivy spent the rest of the day going over current articles and editing them for length, spelling, and grammar. The tedious work is always dumped on the newbies. She got into arguments with a couple of the writers over cutting their work down. One yelled at her so bad about it that she had to retire to the bathroom to collect herself. Lunch was no better. She realized that she forgot her lunch in her mad rush to leave and she was broke until her next paycheck. That afternoon was paper pushing and copying for her boss on an empty stomach, making it feel like her day was just dragging.

Her only upside was that it was Friday. Every Friday she would go to the city's library and check out one book for the week. Anything to get her mind off of the current events and horrible things that was going on around her. It was her one indulgence and she treasured it.

The library was only a few blocks away from the newspaper, so she made the short walk in fifteen minutes. Returning the one book she had borrowed for the week, she began her perusal of the many bookshelves lining the expansive building. There were just so many choices, she couldn't decide on just one. 'I need to start figuring this out before I come here,' she thinks while staring at the choices for Jane Austen. After a couple hours, she decides on a John Green book. She has heard many wonderful things about this new author and wanted to give him a try.

By the time she left the library, it was already seven-thirty and twilight was disappearing. Streetlights speckled the streets, pooling the sidewalks with intermittent light as she walked purposely in the direction of her car. When she was about halfway there, she heard heavy footsteps echoing behind her. The hair raised on the back of her neck. She turned her head just slightly to see a burly dark man shadowing her footsteps only a few feet behind her. Feeling more nervous, she clutched her keys in her hand and continued walking, only a little bit faster. Before she could reach the parking garage, hands grabbed her from behind, one hand covering her mouth so she couldn't scream out, and dragged her into the alley.

Her captor slammed her into the brick wall, pinning her there with a knife to her throat. One hand was still covering her mouth. She dropped her keys due to the shock of her back hitting the brick. Frozen, she stared wide-eyed at the man, too afraid to move.

"Here's how this is going to work," he whispers savagely, the reek of alcohol making her want to gag. "You're gonna hand over that pretty purse of yours, hike up that skirt, and I'll show you a good time. And if you're a good fuck, maybe I'll let you go." He smiled. "And if you so much as scream, I'll slit this pretty throat of yours. Understand?"

His hand traveled from her mouth toward the strap of her purse. Ivy let it go easily. Her life is not worth the meager amount of money in that bag. She stayed silent, not giving him a chance to use his weapon. The straps slid easily off her arm and he dropped it behind him, never taking his eyes from her scared and frozen form. Grabbing her roughly by the arm, he dragged her deeper into the dark alley. Pocketing the knife, he grabbed hold of her neck and started wrestling with his belt with his now free hand. "Now, do as I said, you little whore. Hike up that skirt."

Ivy refused to move. 'He may plan on raping me, but it doesn't mean I have to make it easy for him.' Seeing her defiant refusal, he backhands her hard enough to land her on the ground. She held a hand up to her cheek, feeling the sting of the blow. A few tears slipped from her eyes from the sheer pain of the hit. She looked back up just in time to see him stalk towards her.

"Not a smart thing to do."

Ivy looked up and around. That was a different voice. One she vaguely recognized. 'But from where?' Her assailant also looked around in surprise and bewilderment. "Who's there?" he cried out, turning to look towards the entrance of the alley. "Show yourself!"

Standing up, Ivy prepared herself to run for it. If anything, this person is being the perfect distraction so she can get away. All she would need to do is grab her keys and get to her car faster than the thief could catch her. She may not have been the best in shape, but Ivy could still run.

Before she could implement this plan, the man turned around and faced her again. His knife was back in his hand. She froze. He smirked at her. Before he could talk, she rushed him, managing to get him to back up. However, before she could pivot herself around him and run like hell, he got a hold of her arm and threw her against the wall. She heard the crack of her head hitting the brick more than she felt it. She crumpled to the ground in a stunned heap.

She forced herself to sit up in order to protect herself from the now advancing man. However, before she could so much as lift a hand, he was quickly pulled back into the shadows, as if a bungee was attached to his middle, a cry of surprise leaving his mouth. After that, silence.

Sitting in a small daze, Ivy blinked and tried to catch her breath. She waited five minutes before finally standing up. The alley swam before her vision but settled after a few seconds. She walked over to her belongings, picked them up, and made a beeline for her car. Once inside, she locked all the doors and rested her head against the steering wheel. Now that the shock had time to wear off slightly, the shaking settled in. She turned on the car to allow the heat to run and envelope the car. She refused to cry.

She sat there for ten minutes, waiting for the shaking to subside and to make sure she didn't have a serious head injury. Once her shaking was down to a small level, she put the car in reverse and drove home in the darkness.

Picking herself up off the floor, she heads into her small kitchen and makes herself a small bowl of cereal. While her stomach is churning she still needs to eat something. She walks aimlessly around her apartment, filled with too much nervous energy to be still. She walks to all of her windows to make sure they are locked and rechecks the door at least three times. Finally finished with her meager dinner, she walks into the bathroom and takes a hot shower. The bump on the back of her head is throbbing and any touch to it causes her to wince in pain. She throws on a pair of sweatpants and a green t-shirt before examining the damage to her face. His hand left a red mark that is sure to darken as the night progresses. It is tender to the touch and she winces at the thought of how bad it's going to look.

Taking a seat on her cheap sofa, she turns on the television and pulls out the silky material of what can only be described as a cape that was lying across the back of the armchair. She doesn't remember how she got this odd article of clothing. She knows it was when her and her high school friends went to Europe. However, she doesn't remember where in Europe or how she came by it. Or why in the world she would even buy it. However, out of all that she bought over there, this one thing has given her the most comfort over the years.

Better than any blanket, the odd green material always came out when she was feeling stressed or scared. Over the course of the past five years, it helped to make her feel safe and secure when her life was going crazy. She doesn't understand why such a thing could make her feel that way, it just does. And right now, she really needs that feeling or she would probably go insane.

Wrapping the silky material around her shoulders, she curls up into a ball and watches the television mindlessly, her thoughts straying to other matters. Before long, she dozed off to the sound of studio laughter and the feel of the warm material around her.

"Hm, I'm glad to see you took good care over my cape."

Jerking herself awake, Ivy glances around the dark room. She has her TV set so that it will shut off at midnight. She has a tendency to fall asleep while watching it and it's better not to waste electricity. Glancing around the pitch black room, nothing appears to be out of place. 'I could have sworn I heard someone just now.'

Standing up, she secures the cape around her and heads toward the hallway leading to her bedroom. However, there is a pinching feeling just between her shoulder blades and she gets a distinctive feeling that she is being watched. Stopping in her tracks, she turns back around and observes the room one more time. Her eyes immediately land on a figure that is sitting in her chair, looking for all the world like it's a throne. His green eyes shine in the darkness, much like a cat's would. A car passes outside, it's lights trailing across the room, showing off his smirk and black and green armor.

Her eyes dart towards her door. It's still locked. None of the windows are open, either. 'How the hell did he get in?' she thinks, eyes darting back to the strange man sitting in her armchair. She doesn't feel threatened by this man, however. Any normal person would be freaking out over a strange man in their apartment. Ivy doesn't feel the need to do that. He seems… familiar somehow.

She watches as he stands from the chair gracefully, still smirking, and bows to her. She clutches the cape a little bit tighter to her chest. 'Why did that look so familiar?' Standing fully, he is about a full head taller than she is. She quietly looks up at him. He seems out of place in her cramped apartment. He should be in places much bigger than this… much older…

With a sudden flash she remembers. "Oh my god, Loki," she gasps, eyes widening.

"Do not tell me I was that easy to forget," he quips, chuckling slightly.

All she can do is blink at him. 'This feels oddly familiar,' she thinks, trying to recollect her wits. She remembers her time spent in that small German village and her clandestine meeting with the god. She had thoroughly convinced herself that it was nothing but a dream that she had almost completely forgotten the encounter. She probably would have if it wasn't for the cape resting around her shoulders. He watches her with calculating eyes while she pulls all of her forgotten memories to the forefront of her mind.

"Apparently I was that easy to forget," his says, his smile waning.

"Not intentionally," she replies, quick to avert her eyes in mild shame. She feels guilty for forgetting their brief encounter. It shouldn't have been so easy. But, in the light of day, it does seem too fantastic to be real. A Norse god actually in the flesh, offering help when she had been kidnapped and left for dead.

"How long has it been?" he asks suddenly, glancing around her tiny apartment in mild curiosity. He walks around the room, picking up some of her things to get a better look at them.

"Almost five years," she whispers, still hardly believing that he is actually standing in front of her.

"Longer than I intended," he mumbles to himself, still mindlessly wandering. "It is a good thing I chose tonight to come see you again." He glances over to her. "Tell me, what was your plan for fighting off that man in the alley?"

Her eyes widened. "That was you?" she questioned.

"Of course it was me. Who else would it have been?"

'He has a point.' "What did you do that man?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"I gave him a frozen hell," he responds, a wicked smile tracing his lips. She gets the distinct sensation she does not want to know the details of what he did to that man.

Cocking her head to the side, she asks, "Why?"

Putting down one of the picture frames he had been viewing, he walks over to her. "For this," he says, cupping her cheek. "And for this." He places his other hand on the back of her head. His hands are cool to the touch and feel good against her raw injuries. "No one is to harm you and get away with it."

Her eyebrows come together in confusion. "Why?" she asks again.

Releasing his hold on her, he picks up a stray end of the fabric still clutched to her chest. "The night that I gave you this, I sealed an oath of protection with Fenrir as my witness." His green eyes meet with her confused hazel ones. "I could have easily let you go without showing myself to you. Waited for you to drift back asleep and released the shackles. But something about you intrigued me. Gods no longer show themselves to mortals because you no longer believe. However, you were different." His gaze travels across her body. A blush stains her cheeks at his obvious perusal. "You have grown much in these five years."

"Why was I different?" she questions, blatantly ignoring his last comment.

Taking a step back, he gives the question some thought. "Even though you were seventeen, an adult by many people's standards, you were very innocent. It was plain that you had never done any wrong, never gone through horrible hardship. It was…" he pauses, searching for the right word. "Refreshing."

"So," she starts, trying to make sense of this whole thing. "You decided to show yourself to me?"

"Correct."

"And with that, you gave me your protection."

He nods.

"So, why are you here now? Besides the obvious incident of protecting me from that creep, there's no reason for you to be here now."

His smirk returns to his face. "I came to collect my cape."

Her eyes widened at the implication. He wanted to take away her prized possession. She doesn't have many of those left. And this one actually makes her feel safe. Why would he want to do that? She takes a step back and shakes her head slowly. There is no way she was going to let him take this back. The way she saw it, he gave it to her as a gift, so there is no reason for her to relinquish it to him again.

Loki simply follows her retreating steps until she is backed against the wall. He lifts her chin so that her eyes will meet his. "If you give it to me, I will give you a much sweeter prize in its stead."

"And what would that be?"

His smirk grows into a smile. "Me."

"What?" she says, deadpan. She cannot believe what he just said that to her. Seriously? 'What does he take me for? A concubine?'

Smirking at her obvious discomfort, he backs up to the center of the room. She pins him with a glare. "While your offer is… flattering, I'm afraid I have to decline," she finally says after a moment's thought.

"But you didn't hear my full offer," he replies, mock hurt in his voice.

"I don't have to," she says, unwrapping the cape from her shoulders and holding it in her hands. She keeps her eyes on it. She really doesn't want to give it up, but if it will get him to leave, then she will. Some things are not worth your freedom.

"I'm not asking you to become a slave, Ivy," he says quietly, capturing her attention again. She meets his eyes again, noticing the serious face with no hint of amusement. "I'm just asking to be a part of your life." He chuckles slightly. "If anything, I'm asking to be your slave."

"Why?" she asks, genuinely confused. "I'm nothing more than a human woman. Don't you have immortal friends or something like that to hang out with?"

He smiles, but it's a sad smile. "I have done too many horrible things for me to have friends up there." He shrugs. "And I am not looking for a friend. I am looking for a companion."

"What makes you think I can be a good companion?"

"Because even after five years, you are still quite innocent. There are shadows in your eyes now that tell me you have been through heartbreak and loss, but they still shine with purity. That is a rare thing, Ivy." He sighs, looking around the small room once again. Once he meets her eyes, all of his age shines through them. He may appear to be young, but the eyes of an old man lay hidden behind the playful smile of the trickster, belying the centuries he has lived.

Ivy looks away, not sure how to handle the pure emotion he is allowing her to see. She glances down at the green material held within her hands. She doesn't know what to do.

"I can't leave here," she finally whispers, breaking the somewhat tense silence. "I still have to pay off all my debt and someone needs to take care of my dad now that he is alone." She meets his eyes again. "I still have so much to do. And what would people think if I just up and left?"

He cocks his head to the side in confusion, much like an animal would. Ivy can't help but think of Fenrir, as the giant wolf would probably do the same thing. "Who said anything about you leaving?"

"Huh?" is her articulate response.

He smiles again and shakes his head. "Apparently there was some misunderstanding. You do not have to leave here. In fact, I want you to remain here, with your people." He shrugs. "I would come and go as I please."

Sighing in relief, Ivy walks around the tall god and takes a seat on the sofa. "So, do you want to explain to me exactly what you are proposing?"

Returning to his seat in the armchair, he turns so he can better see her. "I simply propose to be a figure in your life for as long as you wish me to. You would not need to change your daily activities or your location—" he smirks at her at this—"I will come when you need it. And I only ask for your company in return."

"So, this is purely platonic, right?" she asks, somewhat cautiously, afraid to give him any ideas. She wants to be completely sure of every aspect of this arrangement he is proposing to her.

"Only if you wish it to be," he chuckles. She rolls her eyes at him. 'He may be a god, but he is still male.'

Lowering her head, she gives the proposal some thought. It would be nice, having him around. Ever since her parents split, she was forced to become the only support for her lonely father. Everything got much worse when he got sick. Due to the time it took for her to take care of him, she lost most of her friends. She hasn't spoken to Kelly and Kristen in three years. She can only claim a few people as her friends, as they have the patience and understanding of saints. And how many people can say that they knew a powerful god personally?

Taking a critical look at her life, it is painfully obvious just how lonely it is.

Raising her head once again, she stands up and moves so she is in front of the reclining god. She holds out her hand. "I agree," she says simply, waiting patiently for his response.

He also stands, clasping her hand in a cool one of his own. "I am glad."

Ivy was mildly disappointed over the blandness of the deal. She was kind of expecting thunder, or light flashes, or something more dramatic than a simple handshake. 'It's probably a good thing that it didn't though.'

"If I may?" Loki says, gesturing to the cape that is still clutched in her fingers. He holds out his hand for it. Very reluctantly, she gives it to him, allowing the smooth material to fall through her hands as he pulls it from her grasp. She immediately misses its weight. He reattaches it to his shoulders, letting it sway down to his ankles.

Leaning forward, he gives her a small kiss on her cheek. She closes her eyes when his lips make contact. "I will leave you now," he whispers against her skin, lingering only a moment longer.

When she reopens her eyes, he's gone. She places a hand against her cheek, kind of stunned at the display. All of her remaining tension leaves her in a quick rush and the days' events weigh down on her. Quietly missing her odd blanket, she trudges to her room and falls asleep shortly thereafter.

Waking up later that morning, she sits up and looks around her bland room in the light of day. She doesn't know how to process what happened to her the night before. 'Was it just another weird dream?' Slowly climbing out of bed, she makes her way to the bathroom. All of her doubts leave in a quick rush.

Her bruise is gone.

Feeling the back of her head, there is no sting of pain. Marveling at the sudden healing, she can't help but poke at her cheek, waiting to feel the standard pain. Nothing.

Shaking her head, she walks back to her room, smiling as soon as she enters. Loki's cape is lying on her bed.