All That I Can Say: Chapter 8
By: M. Greystone
Disclaimer: Not making any money off of this, nor do I own any part of it, save Danica.
Danica sat in her car for a moment when she returned home and rested her head on her hands on the steering wheel and enjoyed the quiet. After the meeting at Tony's they had returned to the lab where progress was really starting to be made with the portal. Having Kitty there, with her firsthand knowledge of dimension-jumping was a huge help, and for all her worries over what would happen should the project be successful, Danica was really enjoying having her on the team. At the end of the work day, Jane had left before she had to retrieve some more clothes for herself from her apartment, and Danica had stopped by the grocery store to pick up some more supplies. She had a feeling her pantry was being slowly decimated by a certain 'svelte' member of Thor's party.
A knock on the window made her jump and she looked out to see the aforementioned warrior standing outside her car, concern wrinkling his brow. He moved back to allow her to get out, his arms folding over his button-up shirt as he looked down at her.
"Is something ailing you?" he asked, setting his palm against her forehead like he did for his own children when they were ill, and she laughed and shook her head.
"No, it was just a very long and trying day, my friend," she answered, walking around to the back of the vehicle and opening the trunk to start removing the groceries, Volstagg helping to carry some of the bags. "How was it here? Were you all alright?"
"Very well, thank you," he said, following her up the stairs and into the house, the scent of something wonderful wafting through the rooms from the kitchen. "Hogun and Thor walked down the road to a book shop, where the proprietors apparently know you and Jane. They had a fire the other day, a small one, Thor said, but the shop appears to be in sound condition."
Danica frowned as she kicked off her shoes set the bags on the island, looking over at Jane who was stirring a pot of tomato sauce on the stove. "Did you hear about the fire?" she asked, unloading items and organizing them into piles depending on where they'd go in the kitchen and pantry.
"Yeah, Thor told me when I got in," Jane replied. "Very odd. It seems like it happened the day we were in there." She shook her head. "Anyway, Volstagg told me there was a bit of 'uh-huh…' going on in the garden last night?" She smirked evilly, her eyebrows lifted as Danica smiled through a blush.
"Is that what you and Fandral were whispering about this morning?" she asked, shooting a look at the redheaded man who was putting away cereal in the cupboard, Volstagg clearing his throat disapprovingly.
"Volstagg the Voluminous does not 'whisper'!" he insisted. "'Tis unseemly and dishonorable!" he glared, almost pouting. "And yes, that is what we were discussing," he clarified, turning away to put up a jar of peanut butter.
"So…?" Jane prompted, lifting the lid off of another pot, steam clouding out of it before she sprinkled in salt and then added a box of pasta.
Danica sighed, laughing as she folded bags and stowed them in a drawer. "Kitty called me in the middle of the night, as you know," she replied, getting out the baguettes she'd bought and slicing them open. "So, I went outside to talk to her and not wake up the house. While I'm on the phone, Fandral follows me out and lets me explain what's going on with the project. One thing led to another and we were arguing about Loki and his possible involvement with sabotaging our work, which of course ended up going back to our almost-wedding," she sighed, spreading butter on the bread and adding garlic and herbs to it. Her mouth twisted and she shook her head. "Loki was somehow behind the misunderstanding that day," she said lowly. "Fandral was innocent."
Volstagg quietly left the room, going out the back door where the others were enjoying the sunset as they discussed potential plans around the burning fire pit, and Jane stepped closer.
"I'm so sorry, hon," she said softly, looking out the window as Volstagg sat down in one of the chairs, accepting a goblet of ale from Sif.
"I am, too, in a way," Danica said, her hands braced on the island. "On one hand, I'm relieved that Fandral and I can pick up and start over, but on the other…I just hate to think Loki could do something to hurt us like that; hurt me."
Out in the yard, Fandral looked up through the windows to see the slump to Danica's shoulders as she talked to Jane, Volstagg having just told him what was being discussed indoors.
"I did not even hear when you re-entered the house," Hogun commented from beside Fandral. "I had heard the Lady Danica leave, but not you, nor your return. I suppose I must have fallen asleep once more."
Fandral grit his teeth, staring into the flames. "Because I never left the house," he said finally. "Danica was in the garden with Loki."
Sounds of disbelief met his ears, Volstagg shaking his head. "That's not possible, Fandral. I saw you with my own eyes, standing beside her as she spoke on her telly-phone, and then the two of you speaking afterwards. And then…well, I would imagine she had blissful dreams from the kiss you gave her, my friend," he chuckled, turning his mirth into a cough when Fandral glared at him.
"I tell you truly, it was not I who was outside last eve!" he insisted hotly. "I saw them, also, from the kitchen window, because I was awakened by Danica going out-of-doors. I wanted to make sure she was alright, and I saw Loki walking towards her. It was he who she spoke with, he who she…kissed…" He grimaced, a bitter taste entering his mouth at the words.
The Warriors were silent, digesting this information.
"I know not what to say," Thor spoke finally. "I suppose she ought to know what you saw…"
"Or, would it be safer for her not to know?" Sif wondered aloud, a hand lifted imploringly. "Let Loki think she believes it was Fandral, since that is the illusion he gave her?"
Thor nodded. "Aye, I think you are right, Sif. What say you, Fandral? She is your lady; I believe her safety is your chief concern."
"I believe Sif has it aright. We should carry on this charade for now," he replied. "And we will see what The Trickster has planned next."
Dinner was called a little while later, everyone returning outside to eat in the cool twilight, Jane applauding when Danica went back inside after the meal to retrieve supplies for s'mores.
"What are s'mores?" Thor wondered, mouth fumbling over the alien word.
Jane sighed, a touch dreamily. "Basically, edible sin," she quipped.
Sif blinked, her eyes wide and almost fearful. "You can eat wrong doings? And you enjoy it?" she asked, worried now. Perhaps they had underestimated these mortals…
Jane laughed. "You'll see."
Danica returned shortly and handed out long metal skewers, then demonstrated how to assemble the dessert. "Marshmallow first," she said, spearing the soft white sweet and getting two large squares of graham crackers from the box. "Chocolate on the crackers," she advised, placing a rectangle of the substance on the biscuit and resting it for a minute on her denim-clad leg while she held the marshmallow over the flames. "And you don't want to get it too done," she grinned, turning the skewer so the marshmallow browned fairly evenly, a couple of burned patches appearing before she blew them out, "unless you like the taste of char." She picked up the chocolate-laden cracker, holding the plain one at an angle against it with her thumb and neatly sandwiched the marshmallow between them. "And there you go!" she said triumphantly, setting her skewer on her armrest so she could lick a drip of chocolate off her palm, Fandral shifting for a moment in his seat as she did.
"And this is safe?" Volstagg asked, watching as Thor held a skewered marshmallow over the flames, the Thunder God exclaiming when it caught fire suddenly, Jane laughing as he hastily blew it out.
Danica nodded, nibbling at the cookie and smoothing away a smear of chocolate and marshmallow from the corner of her mouth with a finger. "For the most part, yes. Don't try to eat the marshmallow directly off of the skewer and wait a minute for it to cool once you have it all put together," she advised, settling back in her chair and smiling as the others started to make their own treats.
Thor stared at the dessert in his hand after he'd taken a bite, nothing short of wonder on his face. "How do we not have such a thing at home?" he demanded of the others. "Surely this is taken from Valhalla itself?"
"Sinful," Sif agreed with Jane, nodding over at her with a smile.
"Told you," Foster replied, grinning back and enjoying her own s'more.
A curse from Fandral had everyone looking at him in time to see him attempting to pluck melted marshmallow from his goatee, Danica handing him a napkin sympathetically.
"Admit it, you were just trying to save it for later," she teased, wiping at a spot he missed with her own napkin, her smile widening just a little when he winked at her.
"No, it was merely a ruse to get you closer," he murmured and she chuckled.
"I knew that beard was a bad idea. It's apparently trying to take over your mind with devious plots," she returned, leaning back and he pouted, taking another bite of dessert.
"It was not a bad idea," he defended. "My beard is fine."
She shook her head, still laughing softly. "Of course it is," she replied, patting his arm. "Don't fret over it."
He glared, almost playfully, and went back to watching their friends as they listened to the night birds singing, their conversations quiet in the glow of the fire. He grinned when Danica's hand moved over to cover his, the woman speaking with Jane as she did so, the gesture as natural as it had been during their courtship. He turned his hand to be palm up, not missing the smile that crossed her face as he did so, her conversation never faltering.
Loki glared from the shadows behind them, the sounds of laughter and comfortable speech grating to his ears, the sight of Danica's hand in Fandral's a bitter shard in his heart.
He expected this. He'd brought this about, and he knew how to make it work for his own plans.
But it didn't make it any easier to be on the outside of his brother's group of friends. Again.
