We didn't make any ceremony about our marriage. Allan's friend was licensed to marry people and McGregor let young Katy decorate the very private back alley to the pub with fairy lights for us. It was a nice, warm night and after the paperwork was complete and Loki and I were officially married, we stayed outside, talking.

"In Asgerd," he mused, "This would be a grand affair, with music, food and nowhere to hide."

"I don't think I would have the energy for that." I admitted, placing a hand on my now less than modest stomach.

"I would not subject you to it." He promised, placing one arm around my neck as we sat and one hand on mine as it rested on my bump. He gazed at it pensively. "Have you thought of names?"

"Lets not talk about babies just now." I asked, worried we would lose the knowledge that we just got married. I wanted to focus on that since we were doing things a little out of order.

"Tell me about your family." He requested.

"Today is supposed to be happy."

"Just a small thing – you must remember something good."

"Do you?"

"I do. Thor and I fought many battles together. Throughout our lives our relationship was always strained – I knew I was different. In a way I think he did as well. Yet in battle all differences were forgotten and we made a team. Now you."

"I left home once when I was eight. I had no idea what I was doing, I just wanted away from my family for a while. I walked...To the park, the shops, school... When I got home my parents were so relieved I was safe that they dedicated the rest of the night to me. It was the first time I felt like they loved me."

"I gather your parents are difficult."

"They were kids when they had me. Already in the gang, I was naturally destined for anything but normality."

The words hung in the air. Eventually he curled around to line his face with mine and we kissed. A long time passed, and I rested my head on his shoulder. We had talked before, about a lot of things, and it was nice to do so every now an again. I learned more about him each time and he about me.

"Can we talk about them yet?" He asked. I laughed, he meant the babies and I could see a question burning in his eyes.

"How do you feel about being a mother?" We'd danced around that one long enough I guess.

"Torn." I said simply. "And how do you feel about being a father?"

"Confident." He smiled. "And anxious. I made mistakes as a son. My father made mistakes as a father. I'm starting to see the grey areas in-between; understanding where we both failed each other."

"That sounds painful."

"It is. My views have not changed, but my understanding has."

"Do you regret your fate thus far?" I asked, curious to know if he was making-do with the things being thrown at him. I didn't mind either way – we were here now – but I was curious to know.

"No." He replied, wrapping both arms around my shoulders and tightening his grip. "I'm grateful for it."

I twisted so that we were hugging properly and as we settled into the kind of cuddle everyone deserves at least once in their lives, he whispered in my ear,

"Thank you."

I was hormonal and the waterworks started but not as something loud and annoying – just wet.

Assassins can get you no matter how careful you are. My parents got Loki and I as we were leaving from my late shift at the bar. We'd been married for a whole three days, been expecting kids for a grand five months, and I guess I was feeling a little too confident my parents wouldn't come. We walked next to each other, just talking about food because I was hungry when two broad men in long leather jackets straight out of a bad movie grabbed our outer arms as they passed. Loki's first reaction was to grab my arm in his free hand, but they pulled us apart with a quick jerk away from each other. I knew better than to try and fight – one punch to my gut and I was out of the game. Loki on the other hand, knew not who was attacking him or why. He and the guy who was charged with subduing him fought and I was impressed by Loki's skill. I knew he was a warrior but the word doesn't really translate the real picture.

I didn't get to watch long, I heard the gun before I saw it and I couldn't risk Loki getting shot – no doubt they had orders to shoot if necessary (fuck my happiness). So I risked being shot or beaten myself and grabbed the gun as he swung it up. Taking a gun from people isn't difficult after enough practice – just don't let it get pointed at you. I took the gun, fired it once in the guy's foot, turned and fired a second into his chest close range before twisting to find Loki locked in a paused wrestling hold as he and his assailant stared horrified at me. I shot the other in the face and blood spattered onto us both.

"Syd..." Loki started, unsure of what to say, but I kept the gun raised. Someone else would appear. And they did, clapping.

"You know," the stranger commented, keeping his hands where I could see them, "I did warn them."

"Shall we get on with this without violence?" I suggested. The stranger nodded and gestured to a silver hummer. Honestly. I glanced over to Loki, guilt most probably evident in my face and watched him follow me to the passenger seats. We listened as the bodies were loaded into the boot. The stranger got into the driver's seat and took us to the hotel my parents were staying in this week.

"From what I've heard," The stranger commented as the doors on the hotel elevator finally shut, "I don't fancy you much as a mother."

Loki looked to me as my hand rose a little higher, the gun still without its safety on. He placed one gentle hand over mine and I let him subdue me. With his other hand he gripped the stranger's head and rammed it into the doors. Flimsy things dented. We stood calmly with the body at our feet and waited to reach the penthouse suite.

Loki stepped over him first, taking my hand to assist me as I stepped over him second. I listened for the blaring of sports on the television and followed it to a grand living room. My father stood before the television, his arms folded as my mother stood watching the fireplace, large glass of red wine in hand. We stopped when we were in view, Loki knew better than to take my hand as he stood by my side. My mother set her wine on the fireplace, marched straight over to me and slapped me across the face. I felt Loki's anger like a sheet where he stood and placed a gentle hand on his chest before he could move forward; she already had a gun trained on him. It took a minute but her attention shifted from Loki to me.