Hello my Loverlies! So glad to see you again. I had some trouble cranking out this one – my writing got kinda stale there -_-. This series is really just a prologue to the Avengers fic I'm going to do. THAT will be twice as epic. This is just some weird little fluff for now.

If anyone has issues with the chemistry I'm using, I give Adriana the same properties as a candle, which burns at roughly 750 degrees Fahrenheit. A human bursts into flames at 480 degrees. Adriana is not human. Some people are assholes, so for them I try to make this as accurate as possible. And also for myself. I'm definitely one of those assholes. :)

Chapter Songs!:

Anna Sun by Walk the Moon

On Melancholy Hill by Gorillaz

Stadium Love by Metric

May I state now that I think the song Black Sheep by Metric fits Loki petty damn well? That might just be my current Metric phase, but hey, still fits.

I own nothing but Adrianne.


CHAPTER TWO: IN WHICH OUR STRANGER AWAKENS

It took me a fair three seconds to even react.

"Um..." I attempted to jerk him off of my wrist. Of course, I was unsuccessful and his grip only tightened. His eyes snapped open and locked onto me with a wicked glare. I waited, full of cowardice, for him to say something. Instead, his eyes searched the room.

My ragged breathing was the only thing filling the silence. I tried to get a good look at the gauge to see where I was at – by my judgement, any normal person would have contracted fourth degree burns by now. He should have even ignited a good hundred degrees ago,My fingertips glowed a fiery orange, becoming brighter and brighter with each passing moment. A part of me wanted to scream at him to let go, but my common sense told me otherwise – If this man let go now, I could risk blowing up the house as well as him in a wild inferno.

His eyes finally made their way back to my face. He yanked my arms towards him, repositioning his large hands on either of my shoulders. The distance between our faces was lessened to mere inches, which gave me the opportunity to take in all of his eccentric features. He had very light eyes and rather pale skin that contrasted his inky-black mane. I watched his mouth turn into a menacing snarl.

"Where. Am. I?" I was muted by the sound of his staccato voice. It had an elegant northern accent to it, the kind that could win over any woman – or any person at all for that matter.

With each passing moment that I did not respond his glare intensified. I squeezed my eyelids closed and attempted to calm my heart rate. He shook me by the shoulders, not so gently.

"Well?" He shouted through gritted teeth.

"Washington!" I spurt out. "B-Barker Mountain, Washington." His brow furrowed in a dangerous mixture of both confusion and distrust. There was another moment of silence and I took advantage to yet again try and get my heartbeat lowered to a normal pace. I felt brave enough to cast my gaze to the gauge. 356.8 fucking degrees.

After another moment he closed his eyes and pursed his lips thoughtfully, letting his icy grip loosen on my arms. They were sure to leave bruises. I feebly sunk to the ground, placing a hand over the heart that was battering my chest. My gauge lowered slowly back to 175.8. Close enough.

I laid there motionless for a moment. That is, until the anger started to cloud my mind. My fists balled with heat and I felt a growl surge in the base of my throat. I stood, towering over the pale man. He had let his head rest back on the pillow and rubbed his unscathed temple with two narrow fingers.

It was probably for the best that he did not see my face contorted with rage, seeing as most people responded to rage with more rage. I let my mind wander across all the possibilities as to why this unpleasant man was found in my garden – other than the already ruled out ax murderer or corpse.

He could be sick! He could have been some sick amnesiac wandering around in the woods. Oh, silly me. I admit it was a long shot, but it was all I had.

My mind fluttered back to all the TV shows I saw where someone had lost their memory. Questions – they always asked questions. I allowed myself to breathe deeply and roll my shoulders back before continuing with my 'patient'.

"How do you not know where you are?" His brow twitched.

Silence.

"Where you're from?" His nose and upper lip jerked.

Silence again.

"Um... Alright, how about your name? Do you know your-"

"-Of course I know my name!" His harsh tone made me cringe. I clamped my eyes shut once more, this time with utter frustration. No, he was not an amnesiac and no, he was not completely harmless.

Definitely though, he was in pain. It showed when he sat up and twisted towards me to do what I assumed was yell at me some more.

"Tsch!" He grimaced and lowered back down, giving in to the call of the mattress. Seeing that he was injured gave me a bit of relief. As hostile as his voice made him out to be, right now he was rendered completely benign.

I spotted the cotton balls and peroxide that he had knocked out of my hands inadvertently when he snatched my wrist. I took a new cotton ball out of the bag and dabbed on the peroxide. Hesitating slightly, I pressed the damp cotton to one of the gashes on his hand. This time he didn't pounce on me; instead he craned his neck to get a better look.

"...What are you doing?" He inquired with a voice full of acidity.

"The same thing that I was doing before – I'm cleaning these cuts. They're filthy." He jerked his hand away a bit.

"It is unnecessary," he protested. "I heal quite well, certainty well enough without the help of - "

" - Shut up." I cut him off by firmly pressing the peroxide in the cut. He hissed a bit, receiving no remorse from me.

He stayed somewhat cooperative as I finished cleaning the lacerations and bandaged them up.

"Those bandages should only stay on for a few days. Then you should let them breathe and scab over." My ill-mannered patient remained quiet. Not even a slight twitch this time. "I'll call a cab to take you somewhere." Nothing. "Uh, hey do you... Hello?" There was no response. I sighed, putting my hands on his shoulders and shaking him lightly. His eyes snapped open sleepily.

"Hmm?" His lids fluttered with exhaustion.

"I'm going to call a taxi for you. Do you have somewhere you can go?" His eyes trailed away from me and turned his head to look out the windows. There was a long gap of silence, only accompanied by the soft rustling of leaves on the monstrous oak tree outside.

"No..." he replied softly. "No, I don't think I do." With a heavy sigh, I lugged the large medical bag back into the closet.

"Well you can't stay here." With that, I made my way out the door. Just before turning the now-warped doorknob closed, I creaked the door oped a bit and called back.

"Shout if you need anything." His back still faced me. Either he was asleep again or he was simply paying me no heed.

Exhaling sharply I descended back down the staircase. In my haste of getting to bed yesterday, I had never unpacked. I didn't necessarily have that much to put away – Just the most important things like clothes, toiletries, shoes...

Before delving into the abyss of boxes, I took a look around me. The living room, unsheathed, seemed more empty now than ever. With the sheets covering the furniture, Maria's death had sunk in. Now with them removed, the room held the same sentiment that I had felt when I first came to the house yesterday. It was like she was still here (and had been skipping out on dusting).

I missed her. I missed her so much.

Grandma Maria had died of old age, so it wasn't like she had left us tragically - I had come to terms with her passing a good month before she actually died. Maria had a way with people that I could never hope to grasp. She crawled her way into your heart, infesting it with charity and corroding away any animosity.

The only way that I could now honor her was to take good care of this house. Honestly, this house was the only thing she held on other than me after Grandfather Baldassare died. She refused to leave this place for a nursing home in her old age. This was another instance where she insisted on doing something for her 'company'.

My only job now was to upkeep the creaking dwelling.

Which meant dusting.

And mopping.

And vacuuming.

Ugh.

I begrudgingly picked up the smallest box of the lot and placed it on the glass coffee table. There were a few very important items inside – Lemon pledge and rags.

I stood at the back of the room, wondering where to start. The picture-laden mantle was a good place to start. Venturing over, I sprayed a bit of the dust cleaner on the gray rag and swiped away, lifting each frame as I went. They were filled with images of Tazia, Carlos, Simona and I – Mainly of me, of course, at different ages. They were all happy memories, ones that I did care to savor as I didn't get many of them.

Don't get me wrong, I did not have an unpleasant life, but it was terribly boring not having anyone to play with but Tazia. I love her to death, but she was – and still is – quite the motormouth. And eccentric. I do believe she has green hair now. Or maybe it was purple... One never knows with her.

Once I was pleased with the state of the mantle, I moved onto the coffee table and the bookcases that lined the back walls.

The cases were overflowing with knowledge. There were dictionaries six inches wide, dictionaries in foreign languages, thesauruses, and a plethora of different editions of encyclopedias. The top rows on the first case was entirely compromised of mythology books of every odd sort – Finnish, Somali, Lozi, Egyptian, Hindu, Norse, Islamic, Inuit, Arabian, Babylonian, Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Hawaiian, Greek, Roman, Germanic, Turkish, Celtic, Iroquois, Aztec... And that was only what I can remember off the top of my head.

Maria also had each classic novel as well. The words of Fitzgerald, Salinger, Faulkner, Chaucer, Steinbeck, and many others had called to me when I was younger. Even though I wasn't really in any sort of school, I craved knowledge like a honeybee does long for pollen. That may be one of the only features that Taz and I share.

The majority of the books were dusty all on their own, accumulated over the many years before Maria had adopted them. She had a kindling to old books. Maybe the old koot was trying to find something as ancient as herself.

I did notice that some of the history books had been placed near the Norse myths. Strange... Grandmother had the worst case of OCD in an old woman that I had ever seen. Perhaps her organization skills went away along with her sanity. I reshuffled a few volumes around so that I could make room for the two books in their proper places.

I polished off the final shelf and continued on with the grandfather clock and the two blue tables.

The living room was adequate for now – I no longer felt like sneezing my brains out. The kitchen was next, just through the swinging white door.


I had dusted each of the rooms now, save for one – his room. I was dreading it, absolutely dreading seeing him again. I reassure myself that if I was quiet enough he wouldn't wake up. That is, if he was in fact still asleep. I pressed my ear once more to the wooden door. This time I took the precaution of keeping my hand off the tortured metal doorknob.

.

.

.

huffft...

.

.

.

haahss...

His breathing was the same as before, which had reassured me that I was safe for now. I very slowly twisted the handle until I heard the most faint of clicks. I took in one large, silent breath before pushing the door open.

This man could sleep through anything apparently. The guest room had the most windows of any room of it's size in the entire house. The sunlight bounced off the pale pink walls into the middle of the room, pretty much exactly where he laid. Right then it was about an hour after noon, and the sun bore into the glass.

I absolutely loved it.

Being in the intensely lit room gave me the most energy that I had all day. Natural, warm sunlight pleased me the most. There was something cold and abnormal about lightbulbs – those newfangled florescent lights especially. Their gleam felt almost demonic on my skin.

I paid almost no heed to the slumbering pale man while I wiped each surface clean of dust. Unlike the other rooms, this one had nothing personal of Maria in it. There were no pictures of Taz or I, no books... Just the bare necessities for anyone that might have been visiting.

My footsteps lightened as I neared the man. The only place left to clean was the bedside table, which was topped by a very heavy cast iron antique lamp. The thing was so heavy that I didn't even bother to lift it as I wiped around it.

"Mmmp!" My wrist sharply bumped into the neck of the lamp, causing it to wobble. My palms heated up in a mix of pain and anxiety. I clasped by wrist and hissed a bit as I watched my anomalous guest's face.

Not a single twitch or furrow.

I allowed myself to exhale and watch my gauge lower itself back down at about 187 degrees.

I wiped down the last part of the table and went on my way.


There were no words for my level of exhaustion. I had meticulously swiped each and every flat surface of the three-story house with nothing but a few cans of pledge and a bunch of old rags. Each room was combed through for tables, shelves, and cabinets. At one point, I don't even think I really registered what I was wiping down – my arm just automatically found dust and eradicated it.

My arms and legs craved rest, and I gave into their needs, plopping myself onto the beige chaise lounge that sat invitingly near the empty hearth. I must get a fire going one of these days...

I felt my eyelids wilt in fatigue, and this time I did fight myself. There was a stranger in my house that did not give me the best impression. He faulted my fire, and that was not at all comforting.

I laid there with weary thoughts running through my head until I was interrupted by a faint thump, from above. If it had been any other day, I would have left the noise to be caused by the wind or bats...

I sat up and positioned myself towards the staircase behind me and held my breath, closing my eyes to listen.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump, thump, thump thump...

I released my breath to utter a single syllable – Shit.

My eyes frantically searched the room. For what, I did not know. Possibly somewhere to hide, but what good would that do me? The man had been able to snatch up my arm with his eyes closed. Instead, I lifted my arm so that it laid in front of me on the back of the couch.

Carefully, I let myself go up to around 350 – this was cool enough so that I wasn't burning the couch, but hot enough so that I could burst if I let myself.

I kept my eyes glued to the staircase. The soft thumping of his footsteps rose to a clear footstep. The man finally appeared at the bottom of the steps.

His eyes scanned this room like they did before. Calculatingly, almost confused. Many moments passed.

"Umm..." I started, "Did you want anything?" His eyes landed on me, not at all phased. What seemed like an eternity passed while awaited a response. There was none.

"Uh, hey, did you want some water or something? I mean, I just moved here, so I don't exactly know if the water's turned on, but I think I have some bottled water in one of my bags..." He looked around again.

"What is this place?" He asked softly. He was not demanding like before, which calmed me down quite a bit. This time, he was genuinely confused.

"I already told you – Barker Mountain."

"Yes, but where?"

"Washington..." He sighed and shook his head.

"No, what realm?" I was the one to pause this time.

"...Excuse me?" He made his way to one of the chairs near me. The way he sat was very relaxed, but the way he hung his head and pinched the bridge of his nose told me otherwise.

"What realm are we in?" He asked severely. So the attitude was back. Wonderful.

"Uh, I don't really know how to answer that... What exactly do you-"

"It is not that difficult of a question!" His voice rose to just under a shout. I inhaled and licked my lips. It was clear that we were both losing our patience with each other.

The man wanted to know what realm we were in? Fine. I'll humor him.

"Um... The, uh, human one, I guess..."

"You guess." He scoffed.

"Well I don't really know what it is you're looking for out of me..." He held up a slender hand.

"No – No, that is enough."

There was a long pause. At this point, he did not seem hostile really, only a bit unhinged.

He remained seated in the same position, his hand on his face and his legs lazily laying about. I, on the other hand, was awkwardly restless. I shifted in my seat nervously, waiting for him to do just about anything. It became clear that he had no intention of moving anytime soon. I took a deep breath and made a bit of a bold move.

"You need to go somewhere." His hand fell to his side and he tilted his head up slightly to look at me.

"Yes..." He looked off towards the mantle. "But I do not yet know wh-"

"No no. That wasn't a question." I leaned toward him and tried my best to look stern. By the unchanging cool manner in his face, I assumed that I failed in that. "You can't stay here." He was quiet for a minute.

"You seemed more than capeable of lodging me before." He answered, almost mockingly.

"Well..."

"Well?"

"You were passes out and hurt before. I was only trying to-"

"Do I look injured to you?" He held an unbandaged hand up for me to see, the same one that I was cleaning out before. There was not a single scratch on it. I sat back up.

"How did you-"

"Now, really, are you unable to keep me here for a while longer?"

"Yes, actually, I am very unable to keep you here. You are not my responsibility."

"Then why bring me here in the first place."

"Well first off, I didn't bring you here, you were in my goddamn backyard. I just brought you inside." His eyes narrowed a bit.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you bring me inside? Why did you bring me here? Why did you not bring me to some sort of facility?" He stood up and made his way to me and positioned himself so that he was towering over me. "Why?"

"Uh... Um..."

"Exactly. You have no idea, and neither do I. Why fight something neither of us know?" He smirked at me a bit. I simply glared back.

"Pfft." I pushed him off me with a heated hand. He did not seem to notice at all...

I stood and made my way over to the front door.

"Look, I don't know what you want from me, and I don't exactly know why the hell I brought you inside. You're clearly right – I should have lugged you over to the hospital as soon as I found you, but I didn't. And now you -" I opened the door and pointed outside. "Need to leave." I hissed.

A third voice joined in from outside.

"Um... Hello to you too Hot Stuff."


The best moment of the night – My mother and I are standing in the kitchen, watching the food network and sharing a carton of peppered cottage cheese. It's three A.M..

Me – This is what sad and lonely people do, isn't it?

She – Yeeup.

Me – Damn.

:) It's nice to know that a mother and daughter can be lonely together.

Lokiandfriends – GEEEAAHHHHHH! Thank you for actually reviewing bro. You were the one and only -_-

I know I already apologized for the delay, but again, I'm so sorry. I like to keep my readers updated though! You will always know what is going on as far as process goes – think of it was delay Twitter. Yeah, kinda like that... I actually found that drinking a bit loosened me up enough to write. Well, looks like I'm gonna be an alcoholic, hah! I am a bit tipsy as of now, in fact...