I woke up with a stretch and a yawn. Sleeping in, yes please. Days off are magic. Then my eyes snapped open.

OHSHITOHSHITOHSHIT.

I looked at my closed bedroom door. On top of my robe and collection of belts was the black coat. It wasn't a dream. It wasn't the existential nature of coat check. I DO have an article of clothing supposedly belonging to a Norse god. Which means that everything else that happened last night was real. Including me box-blocking Marie for the ultimate tricycle. Oh balls, she is going to kill me.

I rubbed my eyes and turned to look at the clock: 8:53 AM. I can't even manage to sleep in properly on my day off. Figures.

I sat up and pushed off my copious layers of covers, swinging my feet over the side of my bed to find my favorite pair of fuzzy slippers. I stood, stretching again. I looked at the coat. It gave off an air of indifference, but when my eyes fell to the embroidery around the cuffs, the design seemed to reach for me. Oh Jesus-sweet-bleeding-Christ-on-a-crutch. Everything is real. Including the funky, mood-ring-esque embroidery. Despite my sleepy brain, my breath began to come in gasps. I could feel a panic attack brewing. In. Out. Calm down, Nell. You've gone six months without an incident. Now is not the time. I began to cast around for my purse: it held my anti-anxiety pills. It's downstairs on the coat tree, where you always leave it. Stop freaking out. Stop.

IT'SOKAYIT'SOKAYIT'SOKAY. YOU'REFINEYOU'REFINEYOU'REFINE.

My brain refused to shut down. Come on, brain, I pleaded, It's too early to be dodging a panic attack. Just talk to Marie. She'll be logical.

YOU ARE OKAY.

I grabbed my glasses, threw open the bedroom door, and ran down the stairs, the heels of my slippers catching on the last steps.

"Marie! Please tell me that you're here!" I said breathlessly.

Silence greeted me. I looked around the kitchen, hoping for a note, and next to her half-empty French press, I found one:

Nell,

I don't know what the hell you were on last night, but you were scaring the shit out of me. And what was up with that weird coat? It was late, we were both tired...I was sexually frustrated, but seriously. You have been spending entirely too many shifts just staying in coat check. I'm leaving you the number for my therapist. And the contact info for sensory deprivation tank operators on W. Pratt. Try everything once, right? I'd stay home today and help you work through this, but I can't miss work again. So, I'll see you tonight? Don't go chasing after this guy without me, okay? I promise I don't have any Kenny G on the schedule.

Love,

D. Marie

PS-I will buy something for dinner tonight, my treat. Just let me know what you want.

Good. Excellent. No allies in my hunt today. I checked my train of thought. Well, you do, technically, have at least one that hasn't left you yet. I sighed, grabbing a mug out of the cabinet and pouring myself a cup of coffee. Definitely will need coffee for that encounter. I dug around the fridge for the half-and-half, adding enough to turn the coffee a dark shade of khaki. I got out bread too, and started making toast.

Make a plan, Nell. You can't go into this thing blind. Make a list, check it twice, all the usual bullshit. Also, make sure all allies are present at strategy meetings. So go get the damn coat.

I crept up the stairs to my bedroom to grab the coat, where it still hung on the back of my door. "Come on, coat. We have plans to make and people to appease." I tugged it on over my pajamas, feeling just a little ridiculous. Real fashionable, Nell. It's black, so it obviously goes with everything. Even your faded, old, yoga pants.

I made my way back down to the kitchen just in time to rescue my toast from the point of no return. I spread a little peanut butter on it, and sat to think. I needed to ensure that Loki knew that I was actively aware of my intentions. That he knew I wasn't trying to run away from him.

What do you think, coat? Where would Loki go?

The sleeve embroidery wobbled a bit before forming narrowly spaced, parallel, vertical lines, broken by a pair of horizontal ones every couple of inches.

You might be psychic, but I'm not. Spit it out.

The lines stopped forming.

Oh, come on. Please.

The embroidery regrouped itself to form more rows and lines.

Great, so now I have to guess.

The embroidery was slowly coiling its way up my arms.

Let's see. Ladders? Records? An Excel document? Shelves? Books?

The embroidery stopped moving, and the shoulder seams gave a small squeeze.

Okay, there's a local branch of the library right down the road from here. It's fairly plain, and doesn't have the best selection. I don't think it would appeal to Loki's sense of elegance. The main branch, on the other hand, is epic. It's everything a library should be; it even has a giant chess board.

At this last thought from me, the coat gave my shoulders another squeeze. I felt a tightening around my waist, only to find that the coat had belted itself.

Don't get antsy. I've got to get myself together before any type of confrontation can be made. Let me at least grab a shower.

The coat reluctantly loosened the waist sash. I pulled the it open, the hem billowing slightly.

You are one cup of coffee away from being shut in the loony bin. You are talking to a coat. With your thoughts. And you think it answers you with cryptic embroidery. You had best hope that Marie isn't committing you today, because she has every right.

I left the kitchen, and headed upstairs in the hope that a blazing hot shower would clear my head. I stripped, dropping the coat haphazardly on my bed, and grabbed a fresh towel from the closet. Making my way down the hall, I opened the door to the bathroom and turned on the water. Quickly, I shut the door, allowing the small room to get steamy. As the mirror fogged up, I could just make out some faint words written on the glass:

Hello Eleanor

You have something of mine

I want it back

"Haha, Marie. Very funny. Play creepy tricks on the crazy person," I said to no one, as I wiped the words off the mirror. I pulled back the shower curtain and stepped into the spray. The water was hot enough to scald, but I welcomed the slight pain with a pleased hiss. If the water isn't hot enough to hurt, then it's cold. I ducked my head under the flow, and my scalp tingled pleasantly. I let the extreme heat of the water and the steam envelop my body, allowing my mind to quiet. My thoughts began to shift from strategy to somewhere decidedly less logical.

He may be a creep, but he's a hot creep. Those eyes. That mouth. His hands.

I fantasized about his elegant hands tracing paths down my body, following the streams of scalding water with a cooler touch. His mouth would inevitably follow, with delicate kisses interrupting the rivulets running down my torso. He would look up at me with glacial eyes as he worshiped my very essence. He would press my back against the cold tile of the wall as he lifted my hips to –

Okay, Nell. Time to stop. This is your life, not a romance novel. Get it together. Logic. Brain. Not ladybits. Brain. I turned off the shower with a forceful push of my wrist.

"When this is over, I am definitely investing in a decent vibrator."