Darcy came in to the lab the next morning ready to set up at the table for taking notes and making charts. She was surprised to find Loki already there, and against all odds, nursing a cup of coffee. She backtracked and checked the kitchen. Of course he hadn't made enough for her. She set up the machine and went back to the table. "Morning," she said, sitting down.

He had his legal pad out and was writing something. It was tilted back though and she couldn't see what. He kept writing, finishing a sentence, and said, "Good Morning. Did you still want to start with an overview of Jotunheim?"

"Uh, yeah, sure." She was again surprised. He was very business-like and efficient this morning. The effect was somewhat spoiled by the fact that he was still wearing yesterday's clothes. "Let's get to it," she said.

They spent the morning talking about Jotunheim. She noticed he never once mentioned exactly what he had been doing there. It seemed like he had seen a lot of stuff first hand though, having more than textbook sort of knowledge. Occasionally, she asked a question like, "What kind of religion do they have? It better not all be the same one, because that limits us significantly in sowing the seeds of unrest." And, "Eventually, we're going to have to introduce money into the system. What's the currency on Jotunheim?" His reply, "As far as I could tell? Goat's heads," had called a stop to her interruptions.

He continued with his lecture until well past noon. It was all fascinating to hear and not only for the information. His lecturing voice had something about it that set her nerves alight. It turned out that the Jotunns were not the one-size-fits-all baddies Erik's little book had made them seem. They had their own societal laws and rules just like any other culture and none seemed to be any whackier than anything Darcy had read in science fiction, just slightly primitive and violent for the most part.

After a late lunch, they switched to talking about Earth and it was Darcy's turn to lecture. She ran through the three branches of government and talked about voting and the electoral college, none of which seemed to make any more sense to Loki than it made to the average college student. She talked about Western values and ideals a little as well, his take on them was not very encouraging. At one point he interrupted, saying, "You say free speech is essential. It seems to me that the real purpose of having it codified into law is that everyone has to at least think that they can say whatever they want. It really just keeps them complacent and thankful that they have at least one right, so they can never be all that angry as long as they can compare themselves to those in less fortunate countries." She knew that didn't sound quite right, but wasn't sure how to counter it.

He made relatively few comments overall, but the ones he did were slightly unsettling. When she was talking about global law he said, "You know, originally I had thought to conduct my operation from the UN building, but quickly realized no one pays any attention to it." She didn't know what to say to that either.

She was beginning to think Loki was feeling a little down. She didn't know much about his personality, really, but the man she had seen on the news had had a swagger totally different to this man's. There were still traces of him, in the way he sometimes smirked evilly and looked her straight in the eye in a most disturbing manner, but it was almost like those looks were a mask he put on when he needed to. Most of the time, he was quiet and thoughtful. He didn't mope, exactly; and he didn't watch the ground like depressed people often did, but he never quite met her eye (when he wasn't flirting to put her off base or glaring to reassert his dominance, but those moments tended to pass quickly). This feeling was confirmed around eight o'clock that evening. They had switched from coffee to red wine and were sitting in the living area talking about congress. Loki was lounging on the couch, his legal pad face down beside him.

"That's senators, house is every two years, staggered. That's what we should do on Jotunheim," she was explaining as she paced in front of the coffee table.

"That makes no sense, you'd always have some old and some new people at all times." He said, taking a thoughtful sip of his wine. "There would be no chance for complete regime change and the accompanying paradigm shifts that drive social change."

"Dude, paradigm shifts and social change? That's what the internet is for." She sank into the armchair and looked at him, sideways. "What happened to you? Is your heart even in this? Get your head back in the game, eyeball thief!"

"That was one time!" he said, in the disgruntled manner befitting a postal worker. He sighed deeply and considered for a moment. The look on his face said that he had decided something and he said, "If you must know, I am feeling a little out of sorts without my powers. I can't stand the thought of being trapped here."

"Gee, thanks" said Darcy.

"It has nothing to do with you!" he snapped. But he softened and continued, "And I'll rip your tongue out if you ever tell anyone I said so, but I don't feel like myself. Without magic, what am I?" The way he was looking at her, it seemed like he wasn't being rhetorical. He was acting oddly open and vulnerable, the wine must have been affecting his mortal form.

"It sounds like your magic is the source of all your self-esteem. I don't think that's very healthy." She said, gently, somewhat afraid of this sad, dispirited Loki. "You've got other things going for you, I'm sure." He gave her a skeptical look. "You're a space prince, that's something."

"Not anymore. Odin had put me in the dungeons before sending me to Jotunheim. I can't stop thinking that he'll just send me back to my cell when I fail at this impossible task," he said, his gaze falling somewhere around his knees.

"Seriously? Buck up, man," She said. Not sure that she should be providing free counseling to the mass murderous, she felt a little weird about trying to pick his spirits up. "Hey," she said, slapping him on the knee so that he looked up at her. "Put your all into this and make it work. Prove you can build something, not just destroy it. Then, maybe Odin will think twice about sending you back to God-Jail. And this no-magic thing, it's only temporary."

The look on his face said 'not-bloody-likely,' but he just sighed and slumped further into the couch. He continued, "You could never understand, mortal. You've never had access to magic. That spark is gone, and I am not myself without it."

"You want a spark, huh?" she said, slyly. "I could always tase you."

He gave her an annoyed look, but she was sure she'd caught him smiling a little.