Author's Note: That last chapter took a lot out of me, so I'm sorry it took so long to write this one. I tried to make it lot longer than the others, though, to make up for it. Please enjoy this bit of fluffy goodness, and I hope it makes you all cry. Because it made me cry writing it.

Chapter Twenty-Six: Never Grow Up

Song: "Never Grow Up" by Taylor Swift

"Now this is how you spend Shabbat," Rachel said, tilting her head back to take a long drink of her mimosa, as the waiter finished taking their orders. It had been several months since all four of the friends had been available on the same Saturday morning for brunch, but Stacy had demanded that at least one of them abduct her from her wife-and-mother duties. It just so happened that all of them had volunteered for the same day. They met up at L'Apicio in the East Village; for fairness' sake, they picked something that was out of the way for everyone.

"I'll have the shrimp polenta," Grace said, the last to order. Rachel gasped in mock horror as the waiter collected their menus and walked away, Leah ogling him as he left.

"Grace Miriam Lawson! That's not even close to Kosher!" She mimicked Vivian's voice, knowing the elder Lawson would have been horrified to see her only daughter eschewing the dietary laws in favor of sinful shellfish.

"I think Kosher went out the window when we all had premarital sex," Leah joked, letting the words fly out before she thought them through. Grace winced.

"Oh, Grace," Leah said. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean-"

"It's okay," Grace said quickly, wanting nothing less than to ruin what had been, thus far, a "before" type of day.

"So," Stacy said, clearing her throat. "Not to bring this back around to mommy territory for those of us who have not been so burdened, but Grace, isn't Amy's birthday coming up?"

"Yeah," Grace replied. "I suppose it is. But to be honest, I suck as a mommy, because I haven't planned the thirteen clowns and eighty zoo animals yet."

"Oh, come on," Rachel replied, taking another swig of mimosa as the waiter brought out warm bread to the table. "Stacy only had two clowns for Paul Jr.'s first birthday. She's a way worse mom than you!"

Stacy rolled her eyes dramatically, and buttered a piece of bread.

"I swear to God, it's like I had kids just to amuse you guys," she said. "Anyway, Grace, all joking aside, I was talking to your mom the other day, and we do need to plan something for Amy's birthday."

"I get that, but I have no idea what I'm doing," Grace sighed. "It's not like they gave me a manual when I got pregnant that said, 'here's what you do at milestones.' And speaking of milestones, she said her first word."

All three of the women gasped and grinned at once.

"Well?" Stacy raised an eyebrow. "What was it?"

"I'm sure it was mommy or something," Leah said. "Although my first word, according to my father, was chocolate."

"Why am I not surprised?" Grace smirked. "And actually, it wasn't mommy."

"Really? Then what was it?" Stacy seemed surprised, and for good reason, Grace supposed. It only seemed logical that Amy's first world should have reflected the most important person in her life. Then again, maybe it still did.

"It wasn't really a word, honestly," she began.

"Grace, what are you hiding? Did she say 'fuck' or something?" Leah laughed.

"If she did, it's your fault," Rachel shot back. "Come on, out with it."

"Okay, fine. She said Luke's name."

And, as she predicted, all three women in front of her were silent for what seemed like an hour but was, in reality, only a few awkward seconds. Rachel was the first to speak. She folded her arms on top of the table and leaned forward.

"Look, Grace, I think I can safely speak from some level of experience with the guy. He's not a bad employee. In fact, he really doesn't suck as badly as I thought he would. He seems perfectly well mannered and relatively intelligent. But that doesn't mean he's daddy material."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Grace's eyes narrowed and she felt herself growing hot under her collar.

"Rachel…" Leah gave her a warning look and put her hand on Grace's arm. "Gracie, look, it's not that we don't like him."

Stacy nodded. "We're just… concerned."

A dark, negative thought was beginning to creep into Grace's mind like a virus.

"Is this because of Luke, or because you don't think I know how to make decisions for myself?"

"No!"

"Not at all!"

"Absolutely not!"

"Well," Grace replied, "Then what the hell is it? Because if it has nothing to do with Luke himself, and nothing to do with my decision making ability, then what is the problem? Have I done something to make any of you think I would suddenly start making poor decisions when it comes to who I spend my life with?"

"It's not that," Rachel said, eyes softening. "It's just that we don't want you or Amy to get hurt. You've been hurt enough. Even the best guys in the world might not want to raise a kid all of a sudden after being on their own for most of their lives. What makes you think he wants to raise Amy with you?"

Grace considered this. Luke had told her once that he had no desire to have a child, and she had assured him she was not looking for a father for Amy. She still meant that. But she had also gotten used to him being around, and had a difficult time picturing her life suddenly devoid of his presence.

Before she could respond to Rachel's question, the waiter mercifully arrived with brunch.

As they devoured bites of pumpkin pancakes, mezzaluna, shrimp polenta, and gravalax, they went back to discussing Amy's upcoming birthday party. They seemed to have come prepared to plan the entire event in one sitting. Stacy had even brought a book on the subject with her, and Rachel and Leah referenced conversations they had had with Vivian over the last couple of weeks. Grace wondered how often her friends talked to her mother without her knowledge. While she appreciated how involved they wanted to be with Amy's life, and while she knew it was Jewish tradition to raise children communally, she could not help but feel like no one believed she could pull this off on her own. Truth be told, she couldn't raise Amy on her own - she had plenty of help from her parents, from her friends, from Luke - but she didn't think she was completely incapable of doing something as small as throwing her daughter a birthday party. Especially given their earlier conversation about her relationship with Luke, she wondered if her friends thought she was incapable of it.

"I think," Grace said, interrupting Stacy and Leah's high-pitched debate about whether a Barbie theme set the wrong example, "That we don't need to throw a huge party."

The group went silent.

"What do you mean?" Rachel asked. "Do you not want to throw her a party? Come on, Grace, it's her first birthday! I don't even like kids and I know she needs cake."

"No, it's not that," Grace replied, shaking her head. "It's just that, well, why does it have to be some giant affair like it's her bat mitzvah or something? There's enough chaos right now. Can't we just have a quiet little get together with some other kids from the apartment complex and some family and friends? That was what my first birthday was, and I don't think I ended up scarred. At least not from that."

No one really knew how to argue with her. Stacy opened and shut her mouth quickly, and Leah focused her attention on the hot waiter.

"Okay, Grace," Stacy said, after a long silence. "A quiet night at home it is."

"Can we at least get her a smash cake?" Rachel's eyes sparkled mischievously, almost reminding Grace of Luke's for a minute. "She needs a smash cake!"

"Perfect," Grace rolled her eyes. She took another sip of her drink and grinned despite herself. "Just what her mother needs, a baby with curly red hair full of chocolate cake!"

It seemed like everyone had an opinion they wanted to offer on what Grace "should" be doing for the big event. Her female coworkers all shared stories about their own kids' first birthday parties, most of which involved ponies and bounce houses. She was able to shoot those down easily, since Amy's birthday was in February and the weather was especially inclimate. Stacy, Leah, and Rachel all mostly respected her wishes, but still Rachel was still hung up on the idea of a smash cake, which Grace supposed she could partially get behind, at least in theory if not in practice. Her parents tried to interject as well, even offering to pay for an afternoon at American Girl for Amy and some of the kids from the apartment complex. Grace refused all these "suggestions," observing that Amy was far too young to remember this event in the first place. Furthermore, Grace opined, even if Amy could remember it, she would be better served by a memory like Grace's - of close friends and family gathered around a cake in the comfort of home rather than an extravagant party surrounded by tons of kids she barely knew.

At the end of the two weeks that spanned between brunch and Amy's birthday, however, Grace was beginning to feel like an unfit mother. Every time she told someone that plans included chocolate cake and Play-doh contests, they would give her a look that made her wither internally.

The one person who did not seem to have an opinion at all was Luke. She was initially surprised at his disinterest in the affair, since he was usually so opinionated about, well, everything. Then she had remembered what he had said around Christmas about not celebrating holidays where he came from and wondered if perhaps his family didn't celebrate birthdays either. From the afternoon that she had come home from brunch to announce the upcoming celebration, he had barely looked up long enough to ask one question - what kind of pudding would be served?

Despite her best efforts to keep the event low-key, the night before and day of the party, Grace was a nervous wreck. After a mostly sleepless night filled with waking dreams about every possible thing that could go wrong at a child's party, she forced herself out of bed at six in the morning to start preparing the meal. She had conceded to having the party at her parents' apartment since it was more spacious and could accommodate more kids running around, and guests would begin arriving at two in the afternoon. However, she refused to have a catered affair as Stacy had suggested, instead insisting on doing all the cooking herself. An hour and two dozen peeled potatoes later, however, she was beginning to regret that decision.

She wiped her hands on her apron and took a swig of her coffee, when she suddenly heard stirrings from the back bedrooms. She craned her neck, hoping to hear nothing more, because she needed Amy to sleep the last two hours of her infancy so that she could finish preparing the meal. Before she could come around the counter to investigate the sound, however, Luke padded out from the hallway, making quiet steps in his dress shoes. His irises stood out even more when contrasted with the cerulean sweater wrapping the muscles of his chest. As usual, his pants were just this side of obscenely tight.

"Good morning," Grace said in hushed tones, setting down the potato peeler long enough to grab a second coffee mug out of the cupboard and fill Luke's cup for him - black, a teaspoon of sugar. She handed it to him, and he took a long, slow sip from it.

"And to you as well," he finally replied. "You appear to be cooking for a small army."

"You've clearly never been to a Jewish party," she laughed. "My people are the Olympic champions of eating."

"I gathered that, from the looks of things. Have you help coming?"

"Oh," she sighed, looking at the clock. "I'd guess that Rachel will pop in at some point soon. Maybe Leah, too. Stacy will probably be coming with the kids later on."

He nodded slowly, taking another long drink of his coffee, as though he were rushing to finish it. It was then that Grace spied the shoulder bag draped over his left shoulder.

"Going somewhere?"

"It is Saturday," he replied in a voice that made it sound as though she should have realized what that meant.

"Uh, yeah?" She pulled out a cutting board and selected a large, sharp knife from the block in the corner. "I mean, I know you usually work, but you can't possibly be going in today, can you?"

When her question was met with a responsive silence, she had her answer. Her lips pursed, and she did not bother to look up when he set his cup down on the counter, slamming the knife into the cutting board just a little bit too hard with each slice of the potatoes. She was afraid if she spoke of what might come from her lips, and she did not want to spoil the day's memories with anger, no matter how well deserved. Loki, on the other hand, was keenly aware of the change in her attitude.

"Grace," he began. "I shall only be away for a few hours and will endeavor to return prior to the party's end. I realize this is an important event for you, but I do have responsibilities."

Grace slammed the knife down, and immediately regretted it when she heard Amy cry. She wiped her hands on her cupcake-patterned apron, and smoothed her hair back out of her face before looking straight into his face.

"No, I get it. I do. It's not like you're her father, after all." Her voice was cold as the winds of Jotunheim, but to his surprise, her words were what pierced him. As she flounced past him to go collect Amy from her crib, he could almost feel an icy breeze blow past. He took his leave before she could return, leaving her to the party preparations, hopeful she would be in better spirits upon his return.

There was a high-pitched squeal from the back bedroom where a temporary playroom had been set up for the party guests under three feet tall.

"Paul! Could you go check on the kids, please?" Stacy called to her husband, who was seated on the couch with Al, Rachel's boyfriend Brian and Leah's husband Ian. The men were, predictably, watching basketball on television while their respective partners busied themselves putting the final touches on dinner. The women were just as happy to play into this particular stereotype, as any more people in Vivian's kitchen probably would have caused more problems than solved them. At Stacy's request, however, Paul instantly arose and wandered off to the spare bedroom to check on the children, who were supposed to be making Play-doh birthday cakes which would be judged by none other than the birthday girl for a prize at the end of the night. Along with Stacy and Paul's two kids, Paul Jr. and Chloe, Rachel and Leah had each brought their nieces, Jessica and Lottie, both of whom were just a little older than Amy and loved treating her like their own personal Barbie doll. Grace didn't mind; she was happy that Amy would have friends to grow up with just like she had. And now that Amy was getting older, Grace hoped she would be able to spend more time with the two girls.

Paul ambled back out to the kitchen, running a hand through his thick blonde hair.

"They're not dead, at least, but I think Paul Jr. might be getting tired of being outnumbered back there," he said, his deep baritone reverberating through the room. "Any chance food might be ready soon?"

"About ten minutes," Vivian said, bending back up from checking the entree cooking in the oven. "We've just got to reheat the latkes for the kids after the shawarma finishes. The kugel's cooling, and the green beans are already ready."

"Say nothing of the cheesecake in the fridge or the pudding that shortly will be," Rachel continued, while spooning generous heaps of chocolate pudding into glass bowls and topping them with whipped cream.

"Like anyone asked you to make that," Grace muttered under her breath. Everyone in the room heard it, but no one said anything. Rachel shot a sideways glance to Grace, who refused to return her stare.

"Thanks, babe," Stacy said, breaking the silence and giving Paul a quick kiss on the cheek before shooing him back to the living room - though ten minutes later, it was as if an army had descended upon the kitchen, after Grace announced dinner's completion. Given that half the guests had the attention spans of gnats, it had been decided that buffet-style would be better than sit-down, and disposable serveware would be better than the fine china. Grace had indulged Stacy and conceded on Barbie-themed paper plates, but had drawn the line at wearing one of the silly hats - although she had allowed Amy to wear the princess tiara Rachel had picked up from the party store. Every little girl deserved to feel like a princess at one time or another, and Grace supposed her daughter's first birthday was as fine a time as any.

The kids sat around the living room coffee table eating latkes with their fingers, a plastic tarp having been laid over the carpeting well in advance. Chloe, the oldest of the children at seven, had begged to help Amy eat, and Grace was grateful for the assistance. It meant she could, for the first time all day, sit down and rest. The adults sat in the dining room, within ear and eyeshot of the kids but still thankful to be able to have the chance to have a grown-up conversation having spent the afternoon playing all manner of children's party games.

"Grace, I gotta ask this," Rachel said, avoiding eye contact and focusing instead on her plate of kugel. "You've been a little standoffish with me all day. Have I done something wrong?"

"Gee, what gave you the hint? It's not the time to talk about it," Grace shot back. "It's a party."

Rachel's eyes narrowed as she turned now to face the young mother.

"Where's Luke? Did something happen with him that's put you in such a bad mood?" The rest of the group shifted uncomfortably in their seats, the elephant in the room having finally been addressed. Only the sounds of chewing echoed in the silence.

"You should know," Grace replied. "You make his schedule."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rachel's face descended into utter confusion.

"Grace, sweetie, perhaps now really isn't the time-" Al tried to be congenial as usual, but Grace was not dissuaded.

"No, she asked," Grace said. "Rach, you're telling me there wasn't anyone else you could have gotten to work today? You know how important this was to me, and I wanted him here-"

"Wait, wait, whoa, whoa, whoa," Rachel held up her hands in front of her. "I didn't schedule Luke to work today! I purposely didn't schedule him today! Do you really think I would have done that?"

Grace shut her eyes tightly, trying to think. Thoughts swirled in her head like murky water, and she couldn't swim through them fast enough to keep up.

"I just… I mean, I know you don't like him, and he said he had to work today…"

"Grace, I told you before. It's not that I don't like him. I don't trust him. And given that he's just proven he's a liar," Rachel sighed. "I can't say I was wrong about that."

Grace was having a hard time wrapping her head around any of this. Why would Luke have lied to her about having to work? Was it to escape the party? That didn't make sense. He had become so close to Amy over the last few months. They read together every night before Amy went to bed, already getting through the first two Harry Potter books. He changed diapers, gave her bottles, took her for walks in her stroller. Why would he want to avoid the first big event in her life?

She gazed across the table into the living room at her previous baby girl, wild red curls flying around her face as Chloe fed her forkfuls of sweet potato latkes covered in brown sugar. Amy's tiny pink lips curled into an appreciative smile with each bite. She probably had no idea it was even her birthday, no idea that it was such an important birthday. But it was, and Grace hurt. She hurt for herself, for his absence from this event, but moreover, she hurt for her daughter, who would someday know of Luke's absence and would not understand it any better than Grace did.

And then, just as Grace was preparing to ask Brian and Ian to go up to her apartment and start packing Luke's things, there was a knock at the front door.

"I'll get it!" Chloe and Paul, Jr. both yelled at the same time, and there was a clattering of footsteps racing to the door. Vivian excused herself and followed them, and a minute later, Chloe's voice rang out.

"Who're you?"

"My name is Luke, child," a lilting accent replied, soft but authoritative. "And you might be?"

Chloe's giggle was followed by an introduction of both her and Paul by Vivian, who led him back to the dining room, where the group waited for him. He looked slightly bedraggled and windswept, and was covered in melting snow. His coat collar was turned up, and he lifted his shoulderbag over his head, laying it on the floor to the side of the table. Though there were several introductions made, his eyes stayed fixed on Grace, who was giving him the same icy stare from the morning.

"Well," she finally said. "I'm glad to see you finally made it from work." There was a strange emphasis on the last word she spoke, and Loki caught it. Suddenly, he caught the look on Rachel's face reflected in Grace's.

She knew he hadn't been at work.

"It appears I have been found out," he said coolly.

"It appears you have," Leah said, interjecting herself. "If I were you, I'd peace out, dude."

"May I at least explain?"

Grace opened her mouth to tell Luke exactly what she would think of any explanation he had to offer, but just then, Chloe appeared at the dining room door excitedly.

"Mama, when can we sing happy birthday? We want cake!"

And just like that, their dinners only partially finished, everyone but Grace and Luke moved to the kitchen to prepare the cake with its candles, grateful for the distraction from the awkward scene about to take place. Grace and Loki stood staring at one another, his gaze soft, hers frozen in anger, a stark reversal from what would have been the case only months before. He wished more than anything that he could break through the icy glare. When, Loki wondered, had things changed? When had he grown heart?

Before he could proffer his explanation for his prolonged absence, Grace whispered the one word that could hurt him more than any other for its simple truth before she left the room: bastard.

"Happy birthday to you - happy birthday to you - happy birthday, dear Amy - happy birthday to you!" The group sang to Amy, seated in her high chair in front of the counter, a chocolate sheet cake with a single candle in the shape of the number one burning brightly on top of it. Loki stood toward the back of the room, mouthing the words silently, feeling as much an outcast as he ever had. They continued with a Jewish blessing, which Loki did not understand. "Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech Ha-Olam shecheyanu v'kiy'manu v'higyanu lazman hazeh!"

"Come on, sweetie, let's blow out the candle and make a wish!" Grace leaned over the cake with Amy, lifting her up slightly, and puffed out her cheeks, motioning to Amy to follow suit. They both blew the candle out, mother and daughter together, and Loki wondered if Grace had made a wish as well, and if so, what it had been.

Everyone clapped and cheered when the candle went out on the first blow, and immediately the other kids ran toward the playroom to retrieve the presents that the guests had brought with them. A flurry of brightly wrapped boxes returned with them, various shapes and sizes. Everyone had gone to great lengths to spoil Amy, it seemed. Grace thought back to her baby shower. It had been the same thing then - so many presents, more than she knew what to do with. Sometimes she wondered if it would be the same if she hadn't been a single mother, if Amy's conception hadn't been what it was.

Shaking the thought off, she turned back to Amy and lifted her from the high chair, taking her to her parents' living room to sit on the middle seat of the couch between her parents, the rest of the group gathered in a circle around them. The kids took turns handing Amy and Grace box after box, and Amy relished ripping the wrapping paper from each one. Loki remained in his place near the dining room door, watching carefully. From Rachel and Brian, Amy received three new dresses, each with a different Disney princess theme. Leah and Ian got her several coloring books and a huge box of crayons. Her grandparents gave her several Jewish savings bonds, and what seemed like dozens of dolls. Several new Barbies were Stacy and Paul's gift, particularly true to form.

"And don't think Mommy doesn't have a present for you," Grace said, handing Amy to her mother and stepping quietly out of the room. She returned presently with a guitar, surprising Loki, as he had never seen one in her apartment, much less seen her hold one. He raised an eyebrow at her, and she momentarily forgot she was angry with him.

"I've been practicing this for a couple weeks now when no one's been home," she explained. "I played when I was a teenager and only stopped when… well, when. But I thought this would be a good present, better than anything I could buy, because obviously she's spoiled enough as it is." She smiled, and began to strum quiet chords as Vivian held a mesmerized Amy on her lap. Suddenly, a melody floated from Grace's throat, sweet as the cake on the counter and soft as a feather dancing through the air.

"Your little hand's wrapped around my finger and it's so quiet in the world tonight - your little eyelids flutter cause you're dreaming so I tuck you in, turn on your favorite nightlight…"

Loki closed his eyes and remembered his own mother, the hum of her voice as she used to sing to him when he was just a young boy. He began forming memories much earlier than most Midgardian children could, and he remembered clearly as an infant being comforted only by his mother's singing. Odin may have saved his life, but Frigga, she had saved his soul.

"Oh, darling, don't you ever grow up, don't you ever grow up, just stay this little - oh, darling, don't you ever grow up, don't you ever grow up, it could stay this simple - I won't let nobody hurt you, won't let no one break your heart - and no one will desert you - just try to never grow up…"

When she finished the lullabye, everyone - including Loki - had tears in their eyes. No one spoke, but when Grace put down the guitar and took Amy into her arms for a long, deep hug, everyone felt the warmth and tenderness penetrating their hearts. But Grace only felt it for the little creature she had created a year ago that night. She loved Amy more in that moment than she ever had anyone in her life, and she knew that no matter what Luke had done or not done that day, no matter if he had no plans to take seriously their relationship, whatever it was, she would never allow him to hurt her daughter. She would always do what she could to protect Amy. This was her job as a mother.

Eventually, though, someone had to break the silence, and Loki was always good at interjecting where no one else would.

"I feel that my offering cannot compare to that, but…"

All eyes were on him, including Grace's, whose hardened once again. She kept a firm grip on Amy, who reached her arms around her mother's neck toward Loki. He stepped briefly into the dining room and returned with two small, wrapped packages in plain, brown wrapping paper. He kneeled in front of the couch where Grace and Amy sat, and Grace pursed her lips.

"Nice wrap job," she said.

"Your gift was not wrapped and yet it was the most beautiful of them all," he replied, stunning her into silence. Out of the corner of her eye, Grace saw Vivian's mouth twitch into a slight smile. Then, he spoke directly to Amy.

"Little one, one of these gifts is for now, and one is for later. But you may open both tonight. First, the one for now." He handed her the first package. Amy ripped into it the way she had all the others, and when she finished, in Grace's lap sat a book called "D'Aulaires' Book of Norse Myths," a children's book with a colorful drawing of a powerful-looking God holding a spear and riding a horse galloping through the air. Even Grace could not help but smile as she recalled Luke telling her about the Norns when she had cried her secrets to him that first night. Amy's tiny fingers grazed the cover and she pointed with a smile at the man's winged helmet.

"I thought we could begin reading that once we finish the Harry Potter books," he said. "They are the stories I grew up with myself. I had to read several children's versions of these stories before finding one that adequately captured the truth of the stories."

"The truth of the-" Leah began. But Loki cut her off, realizing his mistake.

"And now," he continued. "The second."

The second package was heavier, thicker, but Grace knew instinctively it was another book. As the wrapping fell away, Grace's brow furrowed. Under her hands sat a copy of The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, an unabridged version. The book smelled of old paper, the thing Grace loved most about old bookstores, which is where she imagined this copy came from. It did not appear new like the other book he had given Amy.

"I don't understand," Grace began. "She can't understand Shakespeare, Luke. She's a year old, for God's sake."

Loki smiled, understanding her confusion, having prepared for it. He took Amy's tiny hands in his own, but looked directly into Grace's hazy eyes.

"You said this morning that I am not her father, and I realize I never will be. Her father is a monster, as was my own," he began. "We cannot replace our birth fathers with substitutes, no matter how caring they may be. But I have no plans to leave your side, or hers, for the future. The first book is for now, and the second is for me to read to her when she is old enough to understand the context. Perhaps when she is old enough that I might take her to see the plays acted out during the summer series in the Park," he explained.

Grace could feel her face burning, and her ears filled with dead air, though she could vaguely hear aww-ing noises from those gathered around her - even Rachel, the hardened nonbeliever.

"I am sorry that I lied to you today. But I had to go to several, and I do mean several, different stores to find both of these items, and it took me far longer than I thought it would."

His eyes were earnest, and Grace wanted to say she understood, that he was forgiven, that she was sorry for being angry in the first place, but words would not flow from her mouth. He left her speechless far more often than she was used to.

Amy, however, did all the talking for both of them when she reached out and put her arms around Loki's neck, repeating his name with glee.

Three hours later, the party had ended, and Loki had enjoyed his pudding, though some confusion had ensued when his meaning of pudding had clashed with the American meaning of the word. They had gotten home only half an hour later, and Grace was in the shower and Loki was in his bedroom reading yet another book from her collection - this one, a biography about President Kennedy - when he heard a small whimper from the bedroom next to his. Amy's bedroom. He swung his legs over the side of his bed and walked in his pajama bottoms and slippers into the nursery, which was illuminated only by a soft nightlight. Amy was restless, and had worked herself up into a sitting position, hair frizzed into a tangled mess and her face scrunched as if in pain.

By now, Loki was a professional. He picked Amy up from her crib and nestled her to his chest. She still struggled, though, which was unnatural for her. He wondered if perhaps she had had a nightmare and was trying to break free from it still, as he had had to do a few weeks ago when Grace had comforted him. Suddenly, he had an idea. He began to walk Amy around the room in slow circles, running his hand over her hair, smoothing it away from her face, supporting her bottom with his other arm.

"Your little hand's wrapped around my finger and it's so quiet in the world tonight - your little eyelids flutter cause you're dreaming, so I tuck you in, turn on your favorite nightlight…"

His voice was not nearly so beautiful as Grace's, but he wanted to try to do something to comfort the child of whom he'd grown so fond. As if he had taken a video with his mind, he remembered the words to the lullabye Grace had sung easily, almost too easily.

"I won't let nobody hurt you, won't let no one break your heart - and no one will desert you - just try to never grow up, never grow up…"

He turned to the doorway and saw Grace standing there, leaning against the frame in her bathrobe, hair still wet from her shower. She was smiling, tears shining in her eyes, but she said nothing. Instead, she approached him and put her arms around his waist, Amy between them, her skin warming them both.

They sang quietly together.

"Oh darling, don't you ever grow up, don't you ever grow up, it could stay this simple - won't let nobody hurt you, won't let no one break your heart - and even though you want to, please try to never grow up - oh, don't you ever grow up - oh, never grow up, just never grow up…"

As they finished the song, Grace stood on her tiptoes as Loki leaned his head down, and as their lips met in a soft, sweet kiss, she realized at last that at least in this apartment, in this little circle, there was no one from whom she needed to protect Amy - or herself.