Author's Note: Grace is about to find out Loki's secret. No, not that one. But this will take us into a new part of the story. He's going to have to learn to accept help from others - get by with a little help from his friends, if you will. Think that's gonna be easy? HA. Sooner or later, he'll have to return the favor. PS, turns out, there's nothing better to do when you're sick than write! :)

Chapter Ten: It's Just What We Do

Song: "First Time" by Lifehouse

"You're sure you don't want to ice skate?" Grace said, with a half-hopeful glance in Loki's direction. "I promise I won't laugh when you fall on your ass!"

"I beg your pardon," Loki said, offended. "But I assure you, I could skate circles around you. I simply do not feel the need to perform as a trained monkey."

Grace laughed irreverently. They had spent the last couple hours walking around Rockefeller Center's perimeter, looking at the tree from various angles, watching skaters make designs in (or fall on) the ice in the rink, and listening to the holiday carols being pumped in through the speakers hidden in the trees lining the plaza. Loki had never actually heard most of the songs, but according to Grace, they were a great Christian and, partially, American tradition around the winter holidays. She was Jewish, she explained, so they really were just enjoyable as any other music might be for her, but she appreciated the secular value of the "holiday season," as she put it. To Loki, for all the humans complained about their being dreary and grey, he would take this brightly lit, cheerful Midgard winter over the ice blue, frozen wasteland of Jotenheim any day. And for all he had seen in his months of exile after he'd fallen from Asgard's bridge, as much as he hated being trapped in this prison, at least Midgard had celebrations and some amount of joy within it.

As they approached the place where they had first stood on this night, Loki's hand burned wildly where Grace had touched it on this spot just a few hours before. Neither of them had said anything about that moment, and it had passed as quickly as it had come. As soon as Loki had told her his surname, she had let go and suggested they take a walk. He had readily agreed, not wanting whatever he had been feeling at that moment to linger. Now that they'd returned, the feeling had come back, even though her touch hadn't. He adjusted the fleece scarf around his neck and pulled on his leather gloves.

"I must be going, Grace. As always, I am charmed and delighted to have been in your presence." He turned to head back through the gardens, but Grace put her hand on his upper arm to stop him. His muscles tightened at her grasp and his eyes involuntarily squeezed shut. He turned back around.

"Let me share a cab with you. It's late, and you must have a long walk home," Grace suggested. "I usually don't cab it home, but it's really getting late, and I don't want to take the train anyway."

Loki realized he had about ten seconds to come up with a plausible reason why Grace could not share a cab with him. She knew he lived in Manhattan so he couldn't reasonably offer to see her home first, since she lived all the way in Brooklyn. It was only a twenty minute walk to the Y from where they were, but he knew Grace was stubborn and would not take no for an answer. And he really had no good alternative in mind he could misdirect them to. He couldn't believe he hadn't thought this far ahead - after all this time they'd spent together, it was a wonder she, with her curious nature, hadn't already asked him where he lived.

"I do not wish to trouble you," Loki said. "It really is a short walk, and, as you know, vagrants and thieves pose no threat to me." He smiled, hoping this would placate her.

"Nonsense," Grace replied. "I don't doubt you're able to defend yourself, but it's freezing out here, and I'm already getting a cab. It would be silly for you to walk." She was already hailing a yellow car down before he could argue any further. His silver tongue tied, he could not lie his way out of this situation. She was going to find out where he lived, and probably be either terrified of him, viewing him as the vagrant she'd originally believed him to be, or pity him as so many others had - and pity, he could not stand. His pride would not allow it, not from any Midgardian, but particularly not from her.

But there was no way around or out of it: all the hard work he had put into manipulating Grace was about to come to an end once she realized that he truly was what she had believed him to be from the day they met, and that he had been deceiving her the whole time.

They climbed into the cab, and Loki leaned forward to the driver. "Sixty-third and Central Park West," he said, very nearly a whisper. "And be quick about it." He wanted this torture overwith.

Grace noticed a change in his demeanor as they rode through the streets of the City, shining brightly with the holiday season. Storefronts were lit with garlands and lights, restaurants had painted "frost" on the edges of their windows, a border to the patrons dining within, as if trying to make human Christmas cards. Grace stared out her window and put her hand on the seat between them, an offering. Loki did not notice; he was too wrapped up in plotting his next move, finding a new route after this one inevitably ended. He was sure she would be angry with him, and was preparing for a thorough lashing out. At the very least, she would have questions he was not equipped to answer.

The cab ride seemed to take years, although it was really only minutes. It might have even been quicker for Loki to have walked, given all the traffic. As they arrived at the address Loki had given the driver and exited the cab, Grace looked around, confused. They were standing on a narrow street with a dry cleaner on one side and a YMCA on the other. There were no apartments nearby that she could see. As the cab pulled away, Loki stood with his hands in his pockets and his head down. He raised his eyes to see Grace turning in circles, obviously confused. One of her delicate hands held her scarf close to her throat, the other was lifting the brim of her knit cap up so that she could gaze toward the upper levels of the buildings on either side of them. He watched her, waiting for her to figure it out on her own, hoping he would not have to say it.

"I'm confused," she said, finally, dashing that hope. "I thought you were going home?"

"This is my home," he replied sheepishly. It pained him like a thousand needles through his spine to admit this. "I've been staying here since my arrival in New York."

It took Grace a few moments to process what he had just said. She'd been developing a friendship with this guy for months now and the whole time, he had been living in what basically amounted to a youth hostel. She realized in that moment how little she really knew about him, how little she really knew him. For a moment, she didn't know whether to be angry, hurt, or sad. She decided to go with her gut.

And her gut said to put her own feelings aside and do what she did best. She hurried toward him, purse jostling at her left side. Her boots clacked on the pavement, echoing in the silence of the night.

"Luke, why didn't you tell me? We've been spending all this time together, and you never thought to mention you're living in a- a shelter?"

"You never asked," Loki replied. It was the truth, after all. She had never asked after his living arrangements. She had merely asked where he was from. Grace's mouth opened, then snapped shut again.

"Well, this just won't do at all." She paced furiously back and forth in front of him. Loki watched her curiously. She did not seem angry, at least not as angry as he had expected. She did not even seem to care that he had deliberately left this information out of their many conversations. Actually, he could not tell how she was feeling at this particular moment, other than perhaps restless, judging by the pace at which she was walking forward and back.

"Grace, please, stop, you are making me positively queasy," he said. "I am fine. Once I find employment, I will be able to find suitable living arrangements. This is only temporary, I assure you." While he had hoped that this explanation would calm Grace down, it seemed to only serve to amp her up even further. She threw her arms up and flew into a near fit.

"Are you kidding me? You're telling me that you don't have a job, and you're living in this place, and you've been hanging out with me this whole time and didn't once think to mention it so that I might be able to, I don't know, help you?"

Loki had Grace right where he wanted her, despite what he'd originally believed would happen in this very situation. But something strange had happened. He hadn't had to manipulate her at all. She had just… offered to help him. And he wasn't quite sure what to do with this twist in events. So, he did what came most naturally to him - he distrusted it.

"And why should I have thought you would want to help me? You know nothing of me, Grace. You barely knew my last name until tonight. Why should you want to help someone whom you hardly know?" He snarled the words at her, for reasons he knew not. She was offering him what he needed and wanted most, but he felt unable to accept an offer of help on its face. He would have been much more comfortable accepting it had it been under his own false pretenses. His eyes flared, and he worried for a moment that they had gone red.

"Because this is what friends do, Luke!" Grace spat the words at him the same as he had spat his own at her, putting her fingers to her temples. Then, more calmly, she lowered her hands and raised her eyes to meet his. He had been prepared for her to be angry with him for lying, but not for refusing help. He was usually so skilled at wearing whatever emotional mask was necessary in any given situation, but for this, he was entirely at a loss. His brow wrinkled and he pursed his lips. As it turned out, he didn't need to say anything, because Grace took over.

"This," she repeated, taking his hands between her own gloved fingers. "Is what friends do."