Authors Note: Sorry for the lack of update. This chapter was the hardest to write thus far. I felt the need to add in a little bit of Sva for Fathers day. Enjoy

I wake in a confused daze and with a nagging suspicion that something isn't right, not from my awkward dream but from the slow memories from the previous night. Blinded by an odd fantasy the real pain registers. Drinks, kisses, gropings, declarations of love, and being useful only to some stranger. I should never have expected anything, especially from a man to be married. But things always happens, until we destroy the source of our own emotions will we no longer be hurt by school boy crushes. It was a nice slap of reality and it's not like I have ever gotten my way ever. Maybe this time I have learned my lesson. The best thing to do is to forget. I am still that new optimistic person I claimed to be, I just need a reboot.

While reminiscing I hardly noticed that the beside clock read 07:15 a.m, which means fourty-five minutes before work. But when I did, oh boy did I run like a bat out of hell to the nice yellow shower room to cleanse my body. A mad dash to dry, cloth, and ready myself quickly follows. Don't need to eat, don't need my usual tea (though I will surely regret it later.) With the added time I have about fifteen minutes to walk into town.

Locking my house and walking as fast as my legs will carry me I glimpse a massive pound of flesh sitting on the stoop of my neighbors porch. Odinson is drinking coffee surprisingly not from the pitcher itself while appearing deep in thought about something. Perhaps this his first thought that doesn't include play, smash, and fuck since it troubles his neanderthal brain. I rush by without registering that he is there. Oh how I hope it ails him.

"A bit late are we? I can drive you." He beckons. Though tempting of an offer to ride in his sports car, I would rather walk to Oslo from here barefoot and on broken glass.

"No thank you, Mr. Odinson." That is all he is to me. He lost his privilege of being titled Thor.

"Loki, call me T-." He is too far away now to hear.

ooo

I was late by two minutes. Oh well, I suppose I could have ignored Odinson and would have been here on time. One long rant from Astrid on how I should be more responsible was bearable all things considered. She released me to take care of the endless stack of books that needed re-shelving and to be arranged by request. Despite a night of sleep, my body gave a sluggish start (perhaps from lack of nutrients.) Things eventually click into place and I complete my usual routine; book handling, book holding, book shelving, book grabbing, directions on where the bathroom is, helping desperate University students find the book their professor demands, ect, ect. It never gets old here.

ooo

When things quieted down for a Saturday, I took a seat at the small desk designated as my station for those who had questions on locations of books and other repetitive questions. It was nice to sit for just a moment and to collect my thoughts. I begin to write a list of important things to pick up since rumors of paychecks being available today float from employee to employee. It must have been a minute into the list but a manly cough summoned my attention.

I looked up to see a stocky blonde, leaning over my desk counter. He has a playboys smile and a face to go with. Sparkling baby blue eyes, pink lips that look unnaturally glossed, and light spiked blonde hair. He appeared to be going for a scruffy look with the goatee growing on his chin. He looked like a Robin Hood type but instead of green tights he wears impeccable suits. Oh great this must be Odinson's friend. What was his name? As if I haven't heard it enough already.

"Hark. But, soft. What light through yonder distant window breaks? It is the East and the marvelous man before me is the sun. Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief." This was Fandral... This animated, charming man before me was a friend and war buddy of a man resembling a demigod.

"Er. Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. Act two, scene two. A classic." He smiles with white teeth. Though not as perfect, they do look nice. I don't understand why the people closest to the jolly flesh colored giant have such model qualities.

"Educated too? I love the educated type," He purrs and oozes flirtation. Though I just met him, I can tell he is the hopeless romantic type. "Fandral Völlr*. What might your name be, handsome. Before you spoil the surprise, might I say green is your best color. It matches your beautiful eyes perfectly and makes your succulent figure stand out." I don't know if I should be amused or tearing my hair out in rage. Whoever thought I was a good match with this man was surely mistaken or an idiot.

"Loki Laufeyson and thank you...?" I extend a hand as I normally would in greeting a new person, though instead of a hand, pink lips caress the top of my hand. He lets go after awhile without me having to tug it away.

"Mr. Laufeyson, it is an honor to finally be acquainted. May I call you Loki or might I call you by a title you truly deserve." Excuse me but what?

"Loki is fine..." I smile at him. I've met many men in my time but this Mr. Völlr is the strangest thus far.

"Loki~" He twists my name on his tongue as if it has a taste. "I have admired you from afar for too long." It's been a week and a half at best. If that is too long for him then there is something wrong with him besides this Shakespearean, lover boy, Robin Hood look. Maybe he has been following me since I've arrived here... I can't tell if I should reject him or humor him to see what happens.

"I've been wondering who that handsome fellow stealing glances at me was. You should have said hello earlier or perhaps I should have." Laying it on thick. He interests me but not enough normally that I could ever approach him. Messing with people is a delicate art of poking and prodding with wordsmith to see what makes them bend to your will. From the looks of it I have struck a heart string. He smiles like a fool.

"May I call you Fandral or is Romeo a better name?" No deep response.

"Fandral please. Though I would love to marry and take my life beside you in a three day period, I wold rather have dinner and get to know you first." Cheeky. I humor him with a half halfhearted chuckle. He seems educated enough to my standards.

"Clever, Fandral." I was once told by a wise romanticist that if you speak with a higher pitch than normal and act submissive, men will go weak at the knees for you. So far it works in almost all of the men I've tried it on. He laps it up like he's starved of it.

"Hey now when you say my name like that it makes me want to stay in the library all day. However I'd rather see you outside the work place. I know this place. It's cute and has great drinks. If you're interested we could talk Shakespeare."

"Sounds lovely. Next Friday works for me though I will need to make some arrangements." A date to some shit bar I'm sure and honestly I've never cared for the Bard.

"I know you have two little ones. I saw them hanging off of you one day and I couldn't really tell if they were your brothers or sons but you produce angels." Some compliment.

"Thank you. Let me give you my number." I scrawl it down upon an empty spot on my list and carefully rip it clean for him. He takes it eagerly and smiles that lovely smile.

"I suppose I should let you get back to work," Oh I'm sure Astrid is having a lovely fit right now. I don't care. "You won't regret this." I already do. But it is nice after years of I wouldn't say neglect more of lack of interest to have some one of decent looks swoon over me like a love sick boy. Though I have this nagging suspicion that this is how he acts around all things that move and several things that don't.

"Good-day, good-day. Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good day till it be marrow." He croons and clutches my hand in one more kiss before leaving with a look of the cat who caught the canary. I'm not sure what just happened but the day just got interesting.

ooo

After being released into the World with my first paycheck followed by a rather heated argument at the bank over transferring my pathetic account and then finally a shopping adventure. The nice thing about living in such a small town is it doesn't take long to walk from place to place. Though I look like a dying camel (and certainly sound like one too,) as I stumble back to my place, it still doesn't mean I need to save up for a car. The walk is good exercise, god knows we could all need it but on this empty stomach in the August heat, I would love to vomit. Oh lord, I spy a shirtless demigod up ahead tanning on his lawn. Would it be the ultimate insult if my first look at his half naked figure was to retch across the sidewalk? Tempting.

As I approach the sleeping giant, lazily draped over a towel, only wearing white shorts that didn't seem to hide much of anything (is that mjolnir in your pants or are you naturally hung?) He had washboard abs that could cut diamonds and perfectly waxed chest. Though he is plenty tan, it's nice to know he isn't a part of the American fad of tanning. He looks peaceful, like a cat who found a sunny spot to nap in. Even though I can't see his blue eyes (they're covered by stylish sun glasses,) I can tell he must be having a great day.

Bile rises in the back of my throat as a warning to stop observing the beast in his natural habitat and get the fuck inside. Besides I'm no longer attracted to him. I have a date with the guy he wanted to set me up with. Everything is just great between us.

He must have super hearing or I really sound like I'm dying because he perks his head up like a lonely watch dog. He shoots up and strolls over even as I pick up the pace to avoid him.

"Loki. You look like you could use some help."

"I," Pant "Don't," Pant "Needyourhelp." Pantpantpant. For some odd reason he doesn't seem to believe me as I struggle to reach my keys without setting something down. He takes several bags like it's nothing in his bulging arms. Oh those biceps flexed look about as big as my head. Fuck this. I may need to move again.

"You're cute when you're all worked up." Oh I'm just as cute as a fucking kitten, you idiotic group of muscles sewn together and topped with a skull someone found on the side of the road. UGH!

"Cool." I get out my keys and head inside. He follows like a servant, though I try to take my groceries back from him. All I want to do is eat and lay down, not be around Odinson.

"How was work? I got a text from Fandral earlier. I'm glad you guys are finally talking. Are you going out tonight or next week? He likes you very much if you can't tell. Do you like him or is it too early to tell? You can always go on a double date with Jane and I if you're nervous to go alone." Oh dear god. Make it stop. It's like having another child around. I said I missed my children! I didn't want another one. Honestly if I didn't know any better I would say he is Fenrir's real father.

"Work was fine. Mr. Völlr and I have a date next Friday. As for my feelings about him, I don't know yet. You don't have to set up a big date. I can handle things on my own." I want to smack his hand as he digs into my bags. I just stumble around to find a slice of fresh brown bread. I devour it with no ceremony and immediately feel relief. It's not the best. My mother left me one thing, a homemade bread recipe passed down from generation to generation. My ex couldn't live without it so for years I made it every day.

"I can watch the boys for you. Jane will be gone with shows, you know at the planetarium for the school children." Oh right. I knew I had to do something. Besides analyze why his lady avoids him more successfully than I can, I need to set up the boys with the local school house. Add that to my growing list of things to do.

"Thanks. Does your friend always treat his love interests with such conviction or is he a natural flirt?" I move slowly. Putting things in the new layout. I feel him watch me, my darling unwanted guest. I send enough hate to force anyone with half a brain cell out of my home. However it seems he is truly awful at picking up emotional cues.

"He is a flirt but he will go to the extreme for a person he really likes."

"How would you define extreme?"

"He will go out of his way to impress the person he likes. He will do just about anything to get you to like him back. Did you give him your cell phone number?"

"Hmm. Yes. I did." Now that I think about it I did and I haven't checked my phone. I'm usually good about that. Though no body ever messages me besides a call from my children or my father. The other lump in my pocket I hardly ever notice is the next thing I reach for. It's old, small and black, banged up over time but the screen clearly reads twelve new messages from an unknown number. Fantastic.

It was many and many a year ago,In a kingdom by the sea,That a lad there lived whom you may know. By the name of Loki; And this lad he lived with no other thought. Than to love and be loved by me

"I believe he likes me." First we have Shakespeare, now a rather hopeless poem by the alcoholic Poe. He stands behind me and reads over my shoulder. His smile never leaves his face.

"Yes. Yes he does."

ooo

The rest of my Saturday involves a rapid text battle between Fandral and I (of course after a change in my phone plan,) which takes place after the lonely demigod next door is thrown out. Overall I've learned three things today; One, Odinson has a more complex relationship than I had previously observed, Two, Fandral is a literature and poetry buff. His favorites include Poe, Dickinson, Shakespeare, and Wilde. Third, Yellow is the worst color to clean.

After hours of cleaning and texting, I lay down on the puffy yellow couch in my living room with my illustrated copy of Asgardian Tales. It's worn from age, after all it was gifted to me at birth. I turn to one old dog eared page and sink down into the olden tales. Ones of Odin giving his eye for ultimate knowledge, Thor and Loki going on adventures together and participating in ridiculous contests, of Baldur and his death by Loki's craft, of frost giants, and of a magical horse needing to be seduced.

Before I fall asleep I send one last text; I'm going to bed. And ignore whatever his response is and allow myself to slip into the dream World.

ooo

Sunday passes by in almost an instant, mostly because I end up sleeping the day away. The Horseman once joked that my spirit animal was a cat, which isn't far from the truth. Sundays are slow days, a day to lay around in a perfect sun spot and sleep. Though it is a holy to some, I'm not religious. I was raised on borderline paganism, so really I don't care about celebrating a religion that conquered the one of my childhood. My ex mother in law tried to force me to go with her a couple times to her Protestant Church group. She always wanted to "cleanse my soul of my wicked ways." I never went just to spite her and Svaðilfari never pushed it (he hates her more than I ever did.) Needless to say, Sunday is a lazy day.

Most of the time I spend on my puffy yellow couch, reading old books I forgotten about years ago and sending messages to an eager Fandral who is bored out of his mind because of some business meeting. Odinson seems to be quiet today, surprising for him, though I suspect it must be this meeting that keeps him out of my life for once. Whatever. It wasn't until around 19:45 did I actually have anything to do besides tidy up here and there for the hurricane of children to come. When an unmistakable green truck pulled up in my driveway, I felt a twinge of excitement. My babes were home.

Svaðilfari, as grim and tired as ever. He carries luggage in one arm and a sleepy Fenrir in the other. Sleipnir crawls out of his seat and stumbles, trying to get inside the house before passing out. From the looks of it this was a touch weekend for them all.

"Loki, Darling. I believe we made it back on time." He smiles and I want to hit him.

"Earlier actually. Did the boys behave?" Fenrir whimpers and raises his head, groping for me like he did as a toddler. I take him in my arms, marveling at the new ease of holding him. Muscle building is great for many things.

"Mama. I missed you. You should come with us next time. I got to ride the new pony. I," Soft yawn. "love you." He whispers and lays his head down on my shoulder, closing his pretty little eyes.

"Maybe one day," I will never go back there without having a major reason to. It's just a policy to keep myself sane. "I love you too." Joy is holding your child at the stage of life where you can do no wrong in their eyes.

"They were perfect though we had a moment before leaving where someone didn't want to leave and threw a fit." Oh dear. There goes the culprit past me as he tries to make it to the door.

"Sleipnir, is what father says is true? Did you throw a tantrum?" Oh he stops and tries to not look guilty, though the whole time he stares at his feet.

"Yeah. A little one." I'm always a little disappointed when things like this happen but I acted the same way when I was his age. It's to be expected after all.

"I'm not mad at you. I expected better behavior. You are ten years old, old enough to not act like a baby. Your father was nice enough to drive all the way to pick you up and make sure you had a good weekend. Next time I expect you to act your age for him. Now give me a hug. I missed you." He shuffles over for a quick bony hug around my waist. For a second it feels like he loves me. Fenrir tries to get comfortable but ends up kicking my side on accident and almost hits his brothers face. Cuteness is pain.

"Nnn. I want to go inside." He whines. Svaðilfari looks amused for a moment before the bitterness takes over in his silver eyes once more.

"I guess this is good bye. Until he meet again. Boys be good for your mother." He leans in before I can move away and kisses my cheek. I suppose he never read our pamphlets on acceptable contact with your ex, he never had the capability to sit and read anyways.

"So long." He hands me the bags and leaves. As I watch him go, I glimpse a flash of blonde and hear the slamming of a car door harder than necessary. The giant son of Odin is home and angered once again. Is he watching me when Svaðilfari visits?

"Mama, faster. I want to go inside." Another whine. I guess I will have to find out later why he cares.