Another week passed before Odin gave Loki back his electronics which Loki turned his nose up at, waiting until his father left so as to hug his laptop and television, kissing the tops of them enthusiastically, not sure what to do first.

In that week, Loki and Tony had texted each other constantly, calling one another only when it was safe to do so. Loki refused to sneak out for The Hobbit which, if you asked Tony, was not fair but he could see why Loki would prefer it. Though Tony was secretly glad because Loki would most likely have killed Clint who was probably the most enthusiastic and annoying Legolas cosplayer to have ever cosplayed. As the dwarves they were, Tony and Bruce happily avoided him.

School was as bland as ever. Tony got over himself and returned to normal. Loki was surprisingly open to the idea of friends, partially because Kurt didn't seem the type to take 'no' for an answer. He was also succeeding in baiting one Scott Summers much to his own delight and Summers' chagrin.

It was also in this week that Odin got a phone call that he was incapable of answering as he was on a plane at a cruising altitude of 28,000 feet. No message was left and they didn't call again.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Byleistr stared at the large, two story house from his warm spot behind the steering wheel, hoping that some sort of resolve would kick in and he'd actually leave the vehicle. He glanced at the clock, absently noting that he'd been sitting there for a good twenty minutes. That wasn't creepy or anything.

He banged his head against the steering wheel a few times, cursing himself quietly. He could do this. It wasn't going to be odd. It wasn't going to go poorly. He'll just knock on the door and ask to see Uncle Odin.

He sat up. Was he still allowed to call Uncle Odin… Uncle Odin? Byleistr hadn't seen him since he was, what – four? That was…if he did the math… sixteen years? Kind of ridiculous.

Ok, so he'd knock on the door, ask to see Mr. Odinson, and pray to god he didn't get shooed off the porch. Sounded like a plan. Oh yeah.

Byleistr unbuckled his seat belt, taking a deep breath. He could do this. He tightened his scarf around his neck, turning off the ignition of his car. He was Laufey's son. He could do this. He was a Löfgren.

He stepped out of his car, took one hesitant step, and then proceeded to turn quickly back around to lean his hat covered head onto the roof of his car. He was a coward.

No. Byleistr straightened his glasses and took another relaxing breath. He could do this. Asking for an internship from an old family friend was not this stressful.

"Hey!" Byleistr turned around to find the front door open and a lanky, dark haired teen with a baggy sweater scowling in the entry way. "If you're a Jehovah's Witness, we're not buying your religion." Byleistr blinked. Wasn't Thor… blonde? "So you can stop staring at our house like you're planning to rob it."

Byleistr shook his head roughly, gaining some sort of confidence as he walked towards the house, in some sort of effort to dissuade the teen that he was up to no good. And as he approached, it struck Byleistr how… familiar the boy looked. The closer he got the more the thought needled at him.

The chin, the cheekbones, the hair, even the way he held himself it was all reminiscent of… "That wasn't an invitation!" the boy cried out, ducking back into the house and slamming the door before Bylesitr even reached the sidewalk.

Byleistr walked faster, stomping his snowy boots over the salt covered pavement. As he climbed the porch he noticed two bright green eyes peering through the mail slot. "Go away."

"I'm Byleistr, I'm here to see Unc – Mr. Odinson," Byleistr told the boy, staring into his unnaturally green orbs. "He still lives here, right?"

The eyes narrowed in suspicion, taking in full inventory of the man before him. Byleistr shuffled his feet, feeling all the more self conscious. "No," the boy said, letting the mail slot fall back into place.

Byleistr stared at the door. No? But… but… damn it. Now what?

"Loki!" came a rather agitated female voice before the door reopened and there was none other than Aunt Frigga. Loki, most likely the boy, stood behind her, arms crossed, glaring angrily at Byleistr like he had insulted his very existence by breathing.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Loki wasn't happy and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why. For three days that blue 1998 Lexus GS 400 (and the only reason Loki knew the car make was because he had sent a photo of it to Tony) had parked across the street from his house, only to drive away maybe a half hour later. Highly suspect.

Now his mother was planting besotted kisses on the man and not that Loki was a jealous sort (maybe just a little), but something just wasn't right about him. He just looked familiar. Similar? Almost as if he and Loki were connected somehow and Loki didn't like it. And if the looks this Byleistr kept shooting him, he noticed it too.

It irked Loki to no end.

He stormed up the stairs and to his room, wishing to rid himself of the disturbing idea. But once planted, the seed began to bloom.

Loki was aware of his… differences. He didn't look like his family in the least. Though… his father, from the photographs Loki had seen, had dark hair before it turned grey. And everyone said he had his mother's eyes. But…

Byleistr had the same black hair. He was as equally pale. Though he supposed that's where the similarities ended, so it was stupid. Dumb. The other boy's eyes were grey and dull; his face was round; he was tall, yes, but bulkier. Not so much as Thor, but he was nowhere near as thin as Loki.

He groaned into his pillow. This was absurd! Loki was just under a whole lot of stress. Yes, that's it. Stress.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Byleistr tried not to stare at the photos decorating the living room, in hopes that not looking at Loki would just rid him of his ridiculous idea. Loki and his father looked nothing alike. He was going crazy. And why would they look alike anyway? He was Frigga's boy. And -

No. He wasn't going to start thinking those things. Stop it. Nope. Nuh uh. Not gonna happen. He bit into a cookie, trying to stop his mind from jumping to unbelievable conclusions.

Focus on the matter at hand.

Uncle Odin (and god he was relieved he was still allowed to call him that) wasn't home, according to Aunt Frigga. So much for pleading his case face to face. Though now that he was here, Aunt Frigga didn't seem eager to let him go. Which was rather heartwarming. Byleistr didn't remember much about the Odinsons, but he did remember Aunt Frigga's smiles and hugs and the cookies she'd offer whenever he and Helblindi visited.

Cookies that were just as delicious as he remembered. And if he happened to stuff the entire thing into his mouth upon spying a photograph of a very stern Loki next to a beaming Thor, it wasn't because the scowl was reminiscent of his father in any way. No, sir.

Author's Note: I time jumped... just because nothing really interesting was going to happen and I wanted to get here. So I did. And yes, Byleistr had called Odin before deciding to take the initiative and by initiative I mean being a super creeper. What's gonna happen next?

And yes, I realize it's been quite a while since my last update. Spring break was less than productive and now Spring quarter has started. I feel like I won't have as much time for my stories as I used to. I'm taking two scriptwriting classes, as well as coming up with an idea for my thesis. AUGH! I want to die. I don't want to graduate. I'm wholly unprepared for the real world. What am I going to write about? Seriously? I need to write a feature for an entire year. Like, what am I going to write about? Don't mind me while I throw my insecurities at you guys.

Point being, updates may not be as regular but know that I'm definitely still here and have not forgotten about you guys. Also know that I may not respond to reviews. I haven't done it for the last chapter... but know I read them and appreciate them and you guys are totally awesome. Seriously. I love you all.

Aardvark!