New York, the night that changed everything.

"I've changed my mind."

"Come on Loki, you hardly ever leave your room at the Tower," Thor cajoled. "It's not healthy being cooped up all the time, it has to be bad for your lungs –"

"I duly thank you for your concern, Thor, but my lungs are fine."

"You'll go hungry…" Thor warned, waggling his finger.

Loki valiantly fought the raging urge to incinerate that finger to cinders.

No. What was that funny Midgardian saying again? Right.

Shove it up where the sun don't shine, and then burn it to cinders.

"Thor, I am not a child. I'll order room service. This is a hotel, isn't it."

"Come on, Loki, just stay for a while. Please, for me."

"That stopped working on me some eight hundred years ago." Somehow Loki managed to peer Thor down the line of his nose, despite being a smidge shorter than his brother. "You can't make me."

"I can't be the one making all the effort!" Thor held exasperated hands to his hips. "You're one of the guys now."

"I don't want to be one of your guys," Loki said flatly. "I have no desire to be one of anything."

"Loki, come on. You used to love parties back when we were children," Thor tried again, this time appealing to Loki's sense of nostalgia. "Remember that one time you pulled that trick on Volstagg, when you swapped his beer for a tankard of horse piss?"

"You must be talking about another offspring of Odin I didn't know about because I remember loving no such thing." But the bud of a smile began tugging, albeit reluctantly, at one corner of Loki's lips. "In my defense, Volstagg was so plastered by that point he didn't even realise what he was drinking."

He glanced at the table, already so rowdy what with Anthony Stark's horsing around and everyone talking loudly at a volume way above the acceptable conversational level.

"Are you saying I can swap everybody's drink with horse piss?" Loki's eyes lit up hopefully.

"NO!"

Loki rolled his eyes. "Then what is the point of me."

"We are here to be merry and show our support for our friend Stark who is embarking on the ever perilous journey of marriagehood!" Thor waved a hand, he was quick losing his patience. "I'm sure if you get married one day, they would do the same for you?"

"No." Loki shook his head slowly. "And….no."

"Loki, come on!" Thor bared his teeth. He was going to stomp his feet any second now. "I am starving!"

"Thor, don't make a scene."

"Yo Reindeer Games! Point Break, over here! About fuckin' time, guys!"

"Oh dear. He's already drunk. I can barely stand him when he's sober – I'm leaving. Goodbye."

Thor sighed. He hated playing dirty, but if it had to be done… "Ah. I see."

Loki knew he should just keep walking. Just keep walking.

He stopped. "What."

"Looks like the empty seats left would sit you next to…either The Wizard with the funny facial hair, or Barton." Thor nodded in sympathy. "I understand your predicament, Brother."

"You…do."

"You go on back to the room then." Thor's chest rose as he took in a deep breath, looking strangely determined for some reason. "I'll cover for you."

"And what will you say?"

"You know I can't lie, Brother. I'll just tell them you're too sensitive and too delicate to weather such unpleasant and ill-wishing company."

I'm what now?

"You will do no such thing." With a hiss, Loki left his insufferable brother to stalk toward the table, where Tony was still waving them over –

"So which of the two will you be honouring with your royal presence tonight, then?"

"The lesser of two evils."

"Barton?"

"Not if you want me to die of poison," Loki muttered under his breath. "I'll take on the sorcerer wannabe. He owes me."

"You know what they say, Brother. Second time's the charm." Thor slapped him on the back. "Who knows, you might end up liking him."

"Are you mad?"

Thor only laughed, and took his seat next to Hawkeye.

Loki slid gracefully into the last empty seat between his brother and the Sorcerer Supreme, steadfastly avoiding everyone's gaze, his form rigid and stiff.

He had only just sat and was already counting the seconds until such time it was somewhere between acceptable and acceptably rude to excuse himself and leave this sorry excuse of a dinner party –

"Seems like we got off on the wrong foot the last time we met."

Heavens, why was this man talking to him? Loki groaned inwardly. Despite his outward display of bravado to Thor earlier, Loki really was not feeling very conversational tonight. He felt strangely hot and bothered; all he wanted to do now was take an ice-cold shower and then finish the damn book Thor had made him leave in their room.

"We've met, have we? I'm terribly sorry, you must have not left a very lasting impression."

Loki tipped the wine bottle until his glass was two drops shy off overflowing. He was going to make himself drunk. He did not know how or if it was even possible, but he was certainly going to try.

Stephen tutted. "No need to be so hostile, my dear. People might think we're a couple."

Loki ignored him.

He was going to ignore everybody, drink a lot, and wait it out. How hard could it be?

As the minutes passed by, it began to dawn on Loki that it was going to be hard. Very hard indeed.

The raw magic radiating off the human wizard next to him was doing all sorts of things to his body; there was an unbearable itch deep within him and he recognised it as his own seidr responding to the aura this Strange character was emanating from his very core.

Loki became acutely aware of everything this insufferable human was doing, down to the rate of his breathing, the quickening of his pulse every time he laughed at something silly one of the other silly people at the table said, the deep timbre of his voice –

What a fucking mistake.

He wondered if Thor would swap places with him; he would rather face a hundred of Barton's arrows than this.

And the sounds. The sounds were driving him mad.

The incessant clanging and banging, barely audible to others, was maddeningly loud to his hypersensitive ears.

"Oh dear, would you like me to cut up your meat for you?" he forced through gritted teeth.

"Would you feed me while you're at it, darling?" Stephen replied without missing a beat.

Loki could not take it, he was going to scream –

A wave of his hand, and a silencing spell deadened the sounds of Stephen's cutlery.

That seemed to get his attention. Stephen dropped his fork and knife from his shaking hands onto his plate soundlessly, and turned to look at Loki in fury.

"People are starting to stare," Loki murmured.

"What's it to you who they're staring at?" Stephen could not help but snap in irritation.

"I'm sitting next to you." Loki's voice was equally sharp. "I do not like being the centre of attention."

"Really?" Stephen's voice was light, but acid was on his tongue. "All you've done since you entered our orbit was seek attention –"

"Exactly. Attention is unwanted unless I'm the one calling it."

Stephen studied him, noting the stiff line of his shoulders, the spasm of his temples from jaws clenched so tight. "You're quite a peculiar one, aren't you."

"I have been called that, yes," Loki admitted. He found himself breathing easier. "I assume you mean that in the complimentary sense of the word?"

"Do flatter yourself as much as you want, Loki." Stephen's deliberate drawling of his name caused Loki's stomach to flip lazily. "I don't see anyone else doing it."

Strangely aroused now, Loki studied the human sorcerer openly, "Why do you put them on display?"

Stephen lifted his eyebrows in a silent request for clarification.

"Your damaged hands."

Stephen would have retorted something equally insulting in response had it not been for the genuine note of wonder in Loki's voice. "Surely you know how to cast a simple glamour over them?"

"I'm a real man. I wear my scars proudly. I don't need to make myself pretty." Stephen squared his chin. "It is a sign of low self-esteem."

"Are you implying that I am not naturally pretty, Doctor? Or that I am not a real man?"

"Am I not right on at least one account?"

"You're amusing." Loki gave in to the sudden, maddening urge to smile."I like you."

"I…have no opinion of you whatsoever." Stephen coolly lifted his glass to his lips. "Currently."

"How unfortunate." Unfortunate for whom was anyone's guess, for Loki's smile seemed to be widening by the second.

Someday he was going to make this human sorcerer kneel.

"Come now Doctor," he purred. "You would not have trapped me in a free-falling portal if you hadn't at least formed some sort of opinion of me."

Loki propped his arm on one elbow and leaned his cheek into the palm of his hand, cocking his head slightly. "Go on, do tell. I promise you won't hurt my feelings."

"It was on a strictly professional level, nothing personal." Stephen lifted a cocky eyebrow. "So you do remember me."

"I remember you running away from a fight," Loki purred.

"If I had not dispatched of you and your brother both, you would have missed the chance to say whatever last words you needed to say to your dying father."

And in that instant, all the blood drained from Loki's face, as did the light from his eyes.

As swift as the wind, Loki was out of his seat in a heartbeat and would have swept out of the restaurant in the blink of an eye, had Stephen's hand not snaked out to wrap around his wrist –

and yanked him back into his seat.

"Don't make a scene, darling." He released Loki's wrist like a piece hot coal.

His fingers smarted where Loki's seidr had prickled his skin like static.

Loki could not speak. His hand shook.

He poured himself another glass of wine.

"You might want to try and eat something," Stephen admonished gently. Loki scoffed and pointedly downed his glass in one go.

Stephen could not help it. He was technically, a medical doctor after all. "That much alcohol on an empty stomach isn't advisable, Loki."

A low, crazed laugh was the only response Loki was apparently capable of giving.

"I'm sorry. That was uncalled for." Stephen offered quietly. Unconsciously he hid the hand he had used to grab Loki under the table. He knew Loki had felt it shake.

Stephen dipped his head slowly, as though one would if one were to share a secret with a stranger; for Loki had been shaking too. "Some scars are invisible for a reason."

Loki was cultured enough to recognise even the subtlest gesture of a truce. He massaged his temples tiredly.

Was he really doing this?

His hand fell away. He turned his head slowly.

"Would you like to see all my scars, Doctor?"

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

Loki's wrist still tingled where Stephen's magic had touched him. "I have seen yours."

"Not all of them." Stephen had the nerve to smirk.

His head was beginning to swim. Damnit the human sorcerer was right. Loki cleared his throat. "It is getting late."

The smirk turned into a beatific knowing smile. It was barely ten p.m.

Out of all people, Stephen knew full well the value of chances, and the cost of missing them, on purpose or otherwise. "Shall we retire to our rooms?"

By the look in Loki's eyes, now clear and no longer glazed with ill-concealed fury, it was evident that Loki knew it too.

Let's see what this human sorcerer's made of, shall we?"

Their gazes met, and as if in sync, they both rose at almost the same time. It took Loki a tad slower to gain his equilibrium, the floor was tilting a bit – a foreign hand on the small of his back stood him upright again.

"Thank you, Doctor." Never let it be said that Loki of Asgard was without manners; it would be a disgrace to the memory of his late Mother.

"After you."

"Uh-oh." Tony watched the unfolding scene before him with avid curiousity. "We have a situation, Captain."

Steve followed the line of Tony's gaze.

Loki and Stephen seemed to be talking and being perfectly civil with each other, if civil meant engaging in a conversation while not actually looking at one another and sitting as far apart from each other as possible without Loki sitting in Thor's lap, and Stephen in Bruce's.

"That smile on his face. Look familiar to you?"

"Loki doesn't smile enough to make anything on his face familiar…"

"That's his KBM smile!" Tony hissed.

"His what?"

"The Kneel-Before-Me smile! You know the one he was wearing back in Stuttgart! Back when he was still a semi-brainwashed villain and kicking your ass, remember?"

"Tony, you're drunk. He was not kicking my ass."

"He was kicking somebody's ass and it wasn't mine."

Ever the Good Samaritan, "Should we rescue him?"

Tony burst out laughing. "From what?"

"Should we warn him?" Steve could not not do something..

"Oh I think Stephen can take perfect care of himself."

"Tony…" Steve gave him an exasperated look. "You planned all this, didn't you?"

"Who, me?" Tony blinked his innocent brown eyes. "You know what they call us, Steve?"

"The Avengers?"

"You know what they call us behind our back, Steve?"

"Still The Avengers?"

"No. They call us The Lonely Hearts Club!"

Tony poked his finger in Steve's chest. "Young, well, young-looking, acceptable-looking, elligible, perfectly date-able bachelors, all under one roof!" Steve recoiled to avoid getting champagne all over his shirt, "Now me? I'm getting married soon enough, but you guys…" He tsked, "Someone's gotta do something."

"So you sic Loki on the good Doctor? How is that helping?"

"Ask me again in a year, Captain." Tony smiled somewhat knowingly, sadistically.

"Hope you know what you're doing, Stark," Steve chastised him lightly.

"Okay," Tony relented, a little deflatedly. Steve sure knew how to kill a mood.

"Two years. Ask me again in two years."

New Asgard, The Royal Wedding

"Two years, Captain," Tony murmured, still wearing the same self-satisfactory smirk on his face ever since Steve Rogers arrived with the other guests from New York, courtesy of Master Wong and his ever-timely portals. "What did I tell ya."

"Two years and a bit, Tony."

"Two years plus a couple of months. Close enough."

"You got lucky."

"Goodness your shoes sure are shiny."

"I am a soldier, Tony," Steve said seriously. "Everything has to be shiny."

"I bet," Tony said drily.

"Leave him alone, Tony," Pepper muttered, still trying to work her phone for the past half hour. "Oh my God the signal here's worse than down at the French catacombs."

She finally gave up and offered Steve an exasperated smile. "Our daughter Morgan's teething and she's been cranky all morning." She pointed at her husband, "This guy? Is cranky because the groom's ditched him as the best man at the last second and he still hasn't come to terms with it."

"It's Loki," Tony said darkly. "He's gone evil again, I'm sure of it. He's turned Stephen against me."

"Why in the world would he need to do that?" Pepper rolled her eyes. "And why in the world would the Doctor need you? They're not even exchanging wedding rings, so you are obsolete. You'll be sticking out like a sore thumb up there."

"I have to agree with you, M'am. He's looking pretty steady up there all by himself." He nodded his head to where Stephen was standing on the altar, an easy smile on his face, as he bounced Stian up and down his arms, sending the little Prince into fits of giggles –

"He's gorgeous, isn't he?" Pepper gushed dreamily.

"Uh, I wouldn't – I wouldn't really know, M'am," Steve said, glancing at Tony worriedly. "I suppose?"

Pepper had to laugh. "I meant the Prince, Steve. Their little boy. Isn't he just the most precious thing you've ever seen?"

"He's grown so big." Steve marveled. "The last time I saw him was at your wedding, and he was a tiny little thing then."

He seemed to recall Stephen and Loki disappearing off somewhere in the middle of the ceremony, and they had to take turns holding the kid; Steve had no idea which arm went where and Romanoff, surprisingly quite adept at handling children herself, showed him how. Steve was proud to say that he could hold little babies like a pro now, thanks to the Black Widow.

Stephen propped Stian on his hip and when his little boy reached for the sparkling corsage at his breast, drew his son's attention away by conjuring golden butterflies out of thin air; the group of courtiers seated nearest to the altar oohed and aahed as Stian clapped his hands excitedly, his shrieks resounding through the Great Hall.

A beautiful olive-skinned woman in a glinting silver armour stepped forward, said something to Stephen, and held out her arms. With a nod, he handed Stian over to her and suddenly the Sorcerer Supreme did not look so steady anymore.

He clasped both his hands together and from afar, caught Steve's eye. He hesitated, before giving them a small smile.

Steve gave him a thumb's up.

Perhaps he needed a best man after all…poor guy looked nervous.

A petite, strawberry-blonde woman walked up to Stephen and must be giving him a motivational speech of some sort because suddenly all hesitation seemed to leave him; he kissed her swiftly on the cheek, and Stephen began to stand up a little straighter, his smile a little brighter.

"That's Dr Christine Palmer, an old friend of Stephen's. She was the one who delivered their son," Pepper said.

"I see." Steve nodded. He remembered Tony jetting over to Norway when the news broke that Loki had gone into labour. Banner had been in Asgard for a good few months beforehand, citing complications with Loki's pregnancy. It was touch and go for a while but all seemed to have gone well in the end.

Steve found himself missing their good old fighting days sometimes; now that Thor and Loki had relocated to New Asgard, things were't quite as…interesting anymore.

The chandeliers dimmed. Beautiful strings music began to play.

"It's starting," Pepper whispered excitedly. She nudged her husband sternly. "Look sharp, Tony."

A procession of spectral horses suddenly thundered down the aisle in a breathtaking parade of golden chariots and sleek black manes and green streamers – the Prince's royal colours.

The guests gasped as the chariots took flight, swirling in the air before disappearing into a burst of fireworks at the altar right in front of their eyes.

And there he was, suddenly standing on the altar, with the King of Asgard by his side.

"Guy sure knows how to make an entrance," Tony muttered under his breath enviously.

Loki stood straight-backed and tall, looking resplendent in his full Asgardian regalia. Gone were his usual blacks, he was now wearing a ceremonial armour made entirely of gold, the front of his platebody bedecked with intricate fishscales that shimmered yellow when turned one way, and rose gold when turned another. A slim, long sword hung low from his hip; its gilded scabbard glinting as his hand slowly came to rest upon its hilt.

Thor turned to wink surreptitously at the Valkyrie. Found him, he mouthed.

Instead of his trademark horned helm, Loki wore on his head a slim, Baroque-style crown made entirely of black star sapphires studded with a spatter of green emeralds and the most exquisite Russian agate. His short hair was slicked back cleanly off his forehead and temples but its ends were left to curl softly at the nape his neck and skim the lapels of his gold-hemmed cape, the colour of which was a soft blue-green that matched his eyes perfectly.

He was a vision.

Even Tony had to admit it. "He cleaned up pretty well." He kindly added, "For a greasy former supervillain."

Pepper glanced at him. "You have to decide Tony. Either you're glad you fixed them up or you regret it. Can't have it both ways."

"How can I regret it, Potts?" Tony asked softly. He tilted his chin. "Look at him."

Stephen had yet to take his eyes off his fiancé, completely and utterly awestruck. Tony doubted he was even breathing, his chest so still, his face getting redder and redder by the minute –

"Told him he'd end up underdressed. These Asgardians don't play around," Tony muttered.

"Oh I don't know, Tony. Loki looks pretty pleased, if you ask me," Pepper said, her voice strangely high-pitched despite her light tone. She was going to cry any minute now, Tony just knew it.

Thor and Loki walked slowly toward the center of the altar, where an intricate, silver censer sat on its deceivingly delicate-looking, gilded-bronze mounting.

Stephen walked across from the other direction to meet them halfway, never once taking his eyes off Loki. He found himself physically incapable of averting his gaze, not when Loki was looking at him with such a soft expression Stephen could almost forget that he was standing in the Great Hall in front of hundreds of people.

He did not even mind that Loki's choice of attire completely contrasted with his own – Loki could wear anything he damn well pleased.

As long as the next time you walk out those big golden doors, you walk out of them married to me, Stephen thought with a delicious thrill.

The censer came to the level of their waist. Stephen and Loki stood side by side to face it and Thor, who broke protocol by squeezing the back of his brother's neck before climbing up the steps to take his place as the King of Asgard upon the throne.

Stephen held out a hand over the censer, and the moment Loki placed his own atop Stephen's, a blue flame flickered and roared to life, licking their adjoining hands. Expecting the heat of binding magic, Stephen stifled a gasp at the unexpected icy frigidness of the flames.

When he turned to look at Loki, he nearly gasped again, for now Loki's elaborate armour had disappeared. In its place, Loki was now wearing a beautifully-tailored five-piece suit in the most pristine ivory, his champagne gold tie and matching handkerchief in the left breast pocket shimmering with the tiniest sheen of gossamer.

If ever there was an angel on earth, Stephen was standing right next to it.

He knew he was not supposed to Mindspeak, Loki had expressly told him not to, but he could not help it.

"Oh, Loki…"

When Loki's eyes began to water at just the sound of Stephen's voice, he knew why.

"Loki. Stephen," Thor began gruffly. "The fire before you is the Fire of Commitment."

"Your flames are separate, yet they feed the same fire. When one sputters, the flame burns smaller." Thor's hand wrapped around Stormbreaker. "Keep it alive, and may its heat warm your hearts through all the days of your lives and beyond."

"Stephen, I give thee my brother, to cherish and to hold. For out of many, he has chosen you, and thus I beseech thee, protect him from all that wishes to harm him, honour him, and love him, without condition –" Stormbreaker thudded on the floor as Thor's decree resounded through the Great Hall.

"For his heart is tender and his soul is true," Thor said softly, gazing at his brother.

"I will." Stephen vowed.

He turned toward the one person he now knew he loved more than anyone. "Loki. You and Stian are the gifts I never thought to ask for," he inhaled a shaky breath.

"I cannot imagine not being with you, and I am so glad I took that chance that night, for my heart is yours." Stephen stared deep until Loki's eyes. "Until the day it stops, it beats for you and only you."

"This, I vow to thee." On its own volition, Stephen's magic began to uncoil and golden tendrils of energy slithered in between their conjoint hands, slipping in and out of their fingers.

Thor risked a glance at his brother's face; Loki looked like he was going to burst into tears any second now, he'd better hurry this up –

"Loki." His brother's head snapped up, his green eyes bright and shiny with tears.

"Will you in turn, give Stephen your trust, share with him your dreams and your joys, your fears and your pains, hold him in times of griefs and ills, understand the burden of his responsibilities and accept him despite it, and treat him with the utmost love and respect, for as long as he shall live?"

"I will." Loki's quiet voice carried through the lofty hall, and echoed off its walls.

"Stephen. I have loved many before you, but none had come as close to my heart as you."

Stephen held Loki's gaze, steadfast and unfaltering.

"I vow that I will never love another as deeply as I love you, and to prove my love, I vow to you the Vow of Two Worlds," Loki choked back a sob, "For my love goes beyond life and is eternal; even if death were to part us, I will seek you. And I will find you. Just as you have found me."

"This, I vow to thee." Loki's intrinsic magic stirred to bear witness to his eternal words, and soon, green began to join the wisps of golden, melding together in a beautiful lattice of mystical energy and seidr –

Thor rose from the throne, holding Stormbreaker abreast, grasping its handle with both hands.

"I, Thor Odinson, King of Asgard, in the name of Odin Allfather, proclaim you, Loki of Asgard and you, Dr Stephen Strange, the Sorcerer Supreme, duly and rightly wedded in the eyes of the Norns, and by the laws of man, and the Gods."

The blue flame grew and shot skyward –

"Ladies and gentlemen, I give you His Royal Highness Prince Loki of Asgard and His Royal Highness the Prince Consort of Asgard, Dr Stephen Strange.

Long may they live

Happy may they be

Blest with content

And from misfortune free."

The guests echoed Thor's well wishes in unison, quickly following through with a thunderous applause, and the Great Hall erupted in cheers and whistles.

"Congratulations, both of you." Thor smiled serenely. With a flick of his hand, "You may now go on and do that thing."

"Thing?" Loki lifted an elegant eyebrow.

"He meant this – " Stephen leaned over and gave his husband their first kiss as newlyweds on the lips, light and chaste.

"Oh, come on…" Someone moaned loudly from somewhere down the hall. It sounded too much like Tony to be anybody else.

Oh screw it

Stephen grabbed Loki around the waist and kissed him fully and deeply, and time stood still –

For at this moment in time, there was no one but them.

Just him and his Loki.

He stopped for a quick breath, dimly aware of the hoots and merry cries all around them, but the only thing in his line of vision was Loki; Stephen was about to swoop and kiss him again had he not felt something wrap around his legs.

He looked down, crazily thinking that it was one of the Einherjar, come to take him away for breaking protocol – and laughed.

Stephen bent down to extricate Stian's arms from around his legs, and lifted him in the air amid peals of joyous laughter and squeals. He locked an arm around their son, and the other around his husband, and resumed his husbandly duty of kissing Loki once more.

He had been alone for the longest time, having lost his sister, then his mother, and finally his father; braving tragedy after tragedy, lost and utterly on his own…

I am home.

Stephen Strange was alone no longer.

This is home.

New York, present time

"What is this place, Daddy?"

"When your soul leaves your body, you need a place to rest," Stephen murmured, kneeling. "This is where my sister rests."

"I didn't know you have a sister, Daddy."

"I had one, Stian." Stephen ran his hand over the writing on the tombstone, tracing his fingers over her name reverently. "She's…not with us anymore. At least, not physically."

"She's gone to heaven?" Stian squatted and placed a small bouquet of white carnations down on the ground just as Stephen instructed. "Like Connla?"

Stephen nodded.

"Will I get to see her one day?"

"Yes, I hope you'll get to meet your Aunt Donna one day."

"How will I know it's her?" Stian asked, propping the flowers up again, after they had slid down the side of the gravestone.

"Oh you'll know. She has eyes like mine and reddish hair just like Aífe's. You won't miss her."

"Do you have a sister, Pappa?"

"I had a sister too, yes."

"What did she look like, Pappa? Did she look like Aífe too?"

"She actually looked a lot like me…disturbingly…"

"Will I get to see her?"

Loki smiled sweetly. "Heavens no. You will never get to see her. Not if I can help it."

Stian climbed to his feet and stood on tiptoe to peer at Aífe who was fast asleep in her carrier in Loki's arms, his eyes suddenly solemn and haunted.

"What is it, Stian?"

"Will my sister go to heaven before me too?"

Taken aback by the question, Loki took a few seconds to center himself and find the right words to say.

"Not for a very, very long time, sweetheart." Unconsciously he stroked his daughter's bonnet-covered head. "Not with you looking after her, hmm?"

Stian still looked like he was about to cry.

Loki looked to Stephen helplessly, who could only shake his head.

Kids say the darndest things.

"Hey buddy, what do you say we go somewhere fun?" Stephen ruffled his hair. "How about Disneyland?"

"Disneyland?" Stian sniffed. "Where's that, Daddy? Does it have snow?"

Stephen cringed. Ever since his ski trip, all Stian wanted to see was snow. "No…but it has horses?"

"Yay! Let's go!" Gone were the gloom and doom as Stian pumped his little fist in the air.

"What are we waiting for, Daddy? Chop chop!"

And later that evening,

"What are we doing here?" Loki asked suspiciously. "Don't tell me you're thinking of having dinner? Stian's dead on his feet, and the food here sucks, remember?"

"We're staying here for the night." When Stian's head started to loll, Stephen hoisted Stian higher up his shoulder.

"Really, Strange?" Loki stared at him blankly. "Here?"

"The beds are atrociously hard, and the walls atrociously thin." He vaguely remembered the guest who had the misfortune of staying next door to Stephen banging away at the wall, remembered responding by lifting the silencing spell altogether –

Come to think of it, it might have even been the good Captain Rogers he saw leaving the room the next day, Loki laughed silently in his head.

"Come on…" Stephen cajoled. "It's our sixth-year anniversary, Loki."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're a hopeless romantic, Dr Strange?"

"No one needs to." Stephen walked over to him and kissed Aífe's forehead, tasting caster sugar on his lips. Strange. "I admit to it freely."

"I am hopelessly…" Keeping Stian securely fastened to him, Stephen sought his lips, seeking the sugar from the doughnuts Loki must have been secretly eating, "Madly…in love…with you." He successfully punctuated each pause with a kiss.

Yum.

"Shall we retire to our rooms then, Doctor?" Loki teased, his voice husky.

Stephen laughed giddily as the memories came back in a rush –

With a wave of his hand, the front doors to the hotel swung open as if by magic.

"After you."

THE END