A/N: This chapter is slightly shorter than my others, but I think it needed to end where it did. The great majority of it is NSFW, but we're all adults here, right? Hopefully, since I marked this story as rated-M? Anyway, I'm going to be studying for the bar exam soon, as I said last chapter, but I wanted to shoot one more out for you guys. I hope I'll get to post another between now and March—it's just going to depend on how much relaxation time I get. Until then, enjoy, dear ones, and thank you for ALL your support, comments, and messages. They mean the world to me!

Song: "Insatiable" by Darren Hayes

"Well, the first thing we need to do is tell my parents," Grace said as she and Loki settled in for the night. They had arrived home that afternoon and Loki had picked Amy up from her parents' apartment by himself. He explained that Grace had, as she put it, jet lag. Vivian had asked if his family emergency was resolved. He had told her that everything seemed to have been worked out for the time being. Thankfully he hadn't had to resort to lies. Somehow, he sensed that Vivian, like Rachel, had an innate sense of when she was being deceived. "I can see if they can come for brunch on Sunday. I don't want to wait too long. I'm bound to start showing soon and I can't hide it forever."

"I agree. We should tell them as soon as we can, so that we can also tell Amy she is going to have a sibling."

She smiled. "She's going to be so excited. She always tags along with Stacy's kids like she thinks they are her siblings."

He picked up a book from his nightstand and climbed into bed next to her. It was comforting to be back in their home. The pale blue walls and paper lanterns lit with bulbs may not have been as luxurious as his chamber on Asgard, but it felt far more like home now. The sheets smelled like Grace's perfume. Their bathrobes hung on hooks on the door. And on her dresser, there was a framed photograph of him, Amy, and Grace at Amy's second birthday party. He wouldn't have traded that for all the riches in Asgard.

"Are you quite tired? If you need me to, I can go to the living room to read."

"Oh, no, believe me, you could come in here with a floodlight and I'd be able to sleep tonight." She turned off her nightstand lamp and rolled onto her side, tucking herself under his arm and against his chest. "What are you reading?"

"Oh," he sighed, "it's just a volume on astronomy that I read frequently as a child. The library will never miss it."

She turned her head up to look at him, raising an eyebrow. "You're a librarian and you're stealing library books."

He laughed. "It isn't as if they will assess penalties on me."

She turned her head back down and closed her eyes. For a while, she was quiet, the only sound in the room her rhythmic breathing. Just as he thought she was asleep, she said something he couldn't make out. "What was that? I could not understand you."

"Would you do something silly for me?"

"I would do anything in my power for you." He could feel her contented smile against his chest.

"Would you tell me a story from your childhood?"

"I'm sorry?"

"A story, from when you were young."

"You're almost asleep."

"You said anything in your power," she reminded him.

"Ah, the things I do for love."

Settling down onto his pillow, he thought for a moment. He had never shared many stories of his childhood with her. There was no real reason for this; he simply didn't often feel the need to offer them and she rarely asked. Then, he looked down. She had her hand wrapped under the barely noticeable swell of her belly. It occurred to him that perhaps she was asking not for herself so much as for their child—a bedtime story of sorts. He had an idea. "Do you recall the story Thor told at dinner about my changing into a snake and stabbing him when he picked me up?"

"Yes," she yawned.

"Well, he did not tell it exactly as it was. Although he did compliment my magical ability, he downplayed the entire scenario, per usual."

"Oh?"

"When we were children, we had an ongoing war of sorts, over a few centuries. In Asgard, it is not uncommon for youths to spar, as we explained to Amy, but Thor and I were known to take it a bit far. He once lifted me above his head and threw me to the ground as though I were an empty ale stein. Not unlike what he did to me on top of Stark Tower, actually." He heard a barely audible laugh and rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, hilarious."

"Mmm. Sorry."

"At any rate," he continued, "in an escalating battle, I decided to transform into a snake. He never could resist admiring them, which I never understood because I had played this prank on him in the past. That day, I used it to my advantage, because I happened to see him sparring with Sif. At that time, he had an enormous boyhood—what is it you mortals call it?"

"A crush."

"Ah, yes. That's it," he nodded. "So, before either of them saw me coming, I transformed into the snake and approached them. When they took a break, I slithered close enough to Thor that he could see me. As I knew he would, he immediately picked me up, at which point I transformed back into myself and, well…"

"Well what?"

"Well…that was when I conjured the dagger and stabbed him. He screamed, Sif screamed, I laughed. The thing is"—he lowered his head, a bit ashamed—"it wasn't simply a child's weapon. It was a full-sized dagger."

She sat up and turned to look at him. "Did you hurt him?"

He laughed. "Only his pride, really. It was the only time Mother ever scolded and punished me harshly. In fact, now that I think of it…"

"What?"

"It occurs to me that the blade I conjured was made of ice. I don't remember actively trying to do that, but I did, and Mother was horrified when Thor whined to her about it. I had my powers limited for a week, just as I did when I was banished."

She lay back down against him. "Did the pranks end then?"

He smiled and turned out the light, kissing the top of her head in the darkness. "Heavens, no," he said, and she could sense the mischief in his memory. "Upon the return of my magic, I turned him into a frog and tossed him into the river."

After a few minutes, her breathing slowed and her grip around his waist slackened. She snored lightly, although he never had the inclination to tell her that. He found it soothing, a lullaby she never intended to sing. And as he drifted off with her, a thought floated through his mind, barely grazing it but leaving an imprint nonetheless. All those years ago, when Frigga had taken his powers, was it because she was angry with him or because she was afraid for him?

"So, are you done with the visits to outer space for a little while, or are you planning to change your address?" Stacy had just opened her door to Grace and Amy, who were hand-in-hand on the steps of her Prospect Heights brownstone.

"Believe me," Grace said, "I'd love to stop getting out the suitcases for the next year or two."

"How's Loki's family?"

"Oh, everything's fine, I think. Thanks for watching her today." Grace gestured toward Amy. The little girl was fidgeting with her backpack, which was full of books and a spare t-shirt for when she inevitably spilled juice on the one she was wearing.

"No problem at all. You know we're always happy to watch her. Big plans today?"

"Oh, we're just having my parents over for brunch, to thank them for babysitting last weekend." Then she crouched down and put her hands on Amy's shoulders. "Hey, kiddo."

Amy glanced up at her through long, black eyelashes. "Yes, Mommy?"

"What do we do at Aunt Stacy's house?"

"Anything Aunt Stacy says," Amy replied, looking very serious.

"Exactly. Hugs and kisses?"

Amy threw herself into her mother's arms, nearly knocking Grace over the in the process. Grace gave her five or six quick kisses on her pink, chubby cheeks, when Stacy's kids, Paul Jr. and Chloe, appeared in the hallway behind their mother. Amy took off after them, laughing with abandon.

Stacy laughed and helped Grace to her feet. "Well, I guess I know where I stand."

"Believe me, whenever she has a choice between Loki or me reading her a bedtime story, I get the same treatment."

"What time do you want to pick her up? I was thinking of taking them to the park to tire them out."

"Oh, that would be perfect, actually. Maybe around five o'clock if that's not an issue?"

"Not at all! Now, go enjoy some adult conversation while I listen to the Frozen soundtrack for the millionth time."

"Isn't that movie like, two years old now?"

"And it's been on rotation for"—Stacy checked her watch—"oh, two years now."

They laughed and said goodbye. Then, Grace headed back home, leaving one child with her surrogate aunt and carrying the other directly under her heart.

Meanwhile, Loki had just finished braiding the ropes of dough for the bread. He had seen Grace make it so many times that he had said he could do it without even needing a cookbook. He should have realized she would call his bluff, and his ego wouldn't allow him to admit defeat. And so it was that he was putting the loaf of bread into the oven when she walked through the door.

"Well, it doesn't smell like you've burned anything," she said, "so I already consider this a success."

"I beg your pardon!" he exclaimed. "How many meals have I prepared for you?"

She entered the kitchen and bent over to look through the oven. "Several, but none of them involved baking."

He slapped her playfully on the rear. "Just because you have not seen me do something does not mean I am incapable of it."

She stood and turned toward him, arms crossed, considering him for a moment. "That's probably true," she finally said, and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Well, if you think of any new skills you'd like to show me, I'm going to be in the shower…"

With that, she left the kitchen and headed down the hallway. A few moments later, he heard the water running. He looked at the closed bathroom door, then back at the oven timer. Forty-five minutes, it read. A wicked smile washed over his face and he decided that he, too, could use a shower.

When he entered the bathroom, she was already behind the curtain, humming a tune unknown to him. He stripped off his clothes and cleared his throat, knowing from experience that she tended to startle easily. She stopped humming and pulled the curtain aside just enough to signal an invitation. As he stepped in, he drew in a sharp breath, taking in the beauty of her neck, down her back, to the curve of her rear and the length of her legs. Her wet hair draped over one shoulder as she turned around to face him. His eyes immediately dropped to her breasts, which seemed to have doubled in size overnight. She followed his gaze downward and a slow smile played across her lips.

She pushed her hair behind her shoulder. "Something interesting?" she asked casually.

He approached her like an animal about to pounce upon its prey. Which, he knew, was exactly what she intended. She grabbed him and pulled him under the stream of water with her.

"What has gotten into you that has made you so…affectionate?" he murmured against her ear.

She wrapped one hand through his hair, and the other around his erection. She never would understand how he could get so aroused so fast. "Well, remember how Leea said that all my symptoms would be more severe than a normal pregnancy?"

He groaned, low and deep in his throat as she tightened her grip on him. "I do."

She smiled at the noises he made, knowing she was causing them. "Good thing for you, this pregnancy apparently makes me need sex like crazy."

That was music to his ears. He pushed her against the wall, pinning her shoulders to it with his hands, and kissed her hard on the mouth. It still amazed him that she allowed him this, after all she had been through, but she trusted him and knew he would never harm or force her.

"You mean good thing for you," he said, voice dark and heady. He kissed the side of her jaw, down to a spot on her neck where he knew would cause heat to pool between her thighs. "Isn't that what you meant, my love?"

She licked her lips and felt something in her stomach tighten as he pressed his body against hers. "Maybe good thing for both of us?" she finally managed to whisper.

He kissed her again, letting his tongue slide along her lips as he pulled away. "And what do you suppose gives me the most pleasure, hmm?" he asked. "Perhaps I should show you?"

She freed herself of his grip just enough to grasp at his shoulders. "Perhaps you should."

His hair dripped water onto her breasts as he kissed his way down her body. And then finally, he was on his knees in front of her, staring up at her hungrily.

"I would love to spend the entire afternoon licking the water from every inch of your skin," he said, lifting one of her legs over his shoulder, "but as we are, you might say, 'on the clock,' I believe I will focus my efforts on just one part of you."

Before she could respond, he pressed his mouth to her, licking a path from back to front. But although he had done this to her what seemed like hundreds of times, this time made her gasp in shock. His tongue felt ice cold, which would have been painful if not for the fact that his breath was somehow still warm. He squeezed the flesh of her thighs, trying to maintain the focus he needed to do what he was doing to her, wondering if she could see it. He could feel her body tensing above him, the calf over his shoulder pressing into his back. One of his hands left her thigh and traveled further inward, until his fingers found her entrance. He slowly—agonizingly slowly, in her opinion—slid two of them inside her as he pulled his mouth away.

She bit back a sob. "Why did you stop?!"

"My sweet little minx," he purred, ignoring her question, "even if we were not already wet, you would be."

He kissed the inside of her thighs again, working his way back to her center, tongue still cold against her flesh. The fingers inside her moved, curling against one spot that almost made her come undone right there, grinding against his mouth. That was when she glanced down and saw it—the faintest shade of blue tinted his normally pale skin, with patterned ridges visible under the surface.

She gasped, not in shock of what she saw, but of how utterly, insanely good what he was doing felt. Every time she thought he couldn't make sex better, he somehow found a way. Whether it was how he looked at her, or the movements he made against her, or some new position, or even just the way he spoke to her, each time felt more satisfying than the last.

Sometimes she felt like Loki was fate's way of making up for what had happened to her body. Or maybe Loki was trying to make up for it himself.

Either way, she was currently focused on the lascivious way he was sucking on her. She felt her knees start to tremble. But before he could finish her off, she pushed him away and grabbed hold of his hair, pulling his head back. He was clearly taken by surprise. The blue glow faded away, as did the ridges in his forehead.

"No," she said. "I want to feel you."

He grinned, wiping his chin as he stood. "Feel me…where?" he asked, leaning down to whisper in her ear. It gave him immense pleasure to hear her tell him what she wanted from him.

She gasped, shivering against the rumble of his voice. "I—I want to feel you—"

"Where do you want to feel"—he took her hand and placed it around his erection again—"me?"

She squinted playfully at him, smiled, and turned around to face the back wall of the shower. She bent at the waist, knowing how much he would enjoy this view, and placed her palms on the wall. His hands roamed over the curve of her spine and settled on her ass, squeezing the flesh, watching her move under his touch. If they had not been in such a slippery environment, he might have even spanked her, but he didn't want to risk it.

And then she looked over her shoulder at him, pupils so dilated that he could barely see anything but blue.

"I want you to fuck me," she finally said, giving him what he wanted. He grabbed her hips and pulled her back toward him. He entered her slowly, tenderly, effortlessly. But as soon as he had filled her, he pulled back out, just as slowly and deliberately. She let out a sound that resembled something between a pant and a whine.

He smiled mischievously. "I'm sorry, is something amiss?"

"Tease," she growled.

"Not for long."

This time, he drove back into her to the hilt, hitting every single spot she craved. He stayed pressed against her, moving his hips just so, until he heard her mewling, trying to get him to give her more. But he wouldn't—not until she said one more, very specific thing. He again withdrew almost completely, and she gasped, aching for the fullness she felt with him inside her.

"Damn you," she said through gritted teeth. She heard a dark laugh behind her.

"If you want more, you know how to get it."

Though his voice was low and breathy, she could hear the power in it. It wouldn't take much to bring her to the finish, but she also knew he wouldn't let her have it until she did as he asked. She felt like she might explode from need.

His arm wrapped underneath her, long fingers lightly stroking back and forth between her thighs. "I know you know. All you need to do is—"

"Loki," she finally cried, trying to get his fingers where she wanted them, "make me yours!"

That did it. He slammed back into her, over and over again, watching her breasts bounce underneath her with each movement. And he gave her what she'd begged for, rubbing the tiny bundle of nerves between her thighs, feeling her wetness cover his hand even with him inside her. He was trying to hold out until she screamed for him. It wasn't easy; she was so unbelievably tight, even after all this time.

"You will come for me, Grace, and only for me," he ordered, increasing his grip on her hips. Thankfully, she had been so close for so long that it only took a few well-timed thrusts for her to start chanting all manner of obscenities. He tumbled along after her, unable to resist the pleasure of her muscles constricting around him. He bent forward and bit her shoulder, her name on his lips, over and over. She nearly collapsed, but he caught her, as she knew he always would.

When she felt him soften and ease out of her, she turned in his arms. She watched his chest rise and fall, muscles twitching with exhaustion. But his eyes were still full of passion, even after his release.

He pushed her hair back from her face, grabbed her bottle of shampoo, and squeezed some into his palm. The lather easily formed as he ran his hands through the strands, gently separating them as he worked. It wasn't often that they got to shower together, but this was something he loved doing every chance he got. The same fingers that had made her come undone just moments earlier now massaged the back of her head. She thought she might dissolve under his touch, but then realized that something inside her already had.

A few minutes later, they were standing in their bedroom, drying off and getting dressed as though nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. But for Grace, something very unusual had happened, and she was trying to figure out a way to express it without breaking down. Her parents would be there in an hour or so, and she did not want to have to explain red, puffy eyes. As she finished pulling on her jeans, she turned to look at him. He was pulling a shirt over his head, hair already halfway dry, and gave her the smile she loved so much.

Suddenly, her heart swelled with the realization of the depth of their love. The raw sexual energy between them could transform into gentle, loving gestures in the blink of an eye. He could be feral and almost rough, but she knew underneath that lived the real Loki—the one who loved doing something as tender as washing her hair for her and who could make her melt with a lopsided, impish grin.

"Do you know how much I love you?" she asked, a certain intensity to her voice that he had not heard in months.

He sat down on the bed to put his socks on. "I would like to think so."

She sat down next to him and waited until he finished to continue. "Do you realize that what we just did—and how we did it—was something we've never done before?"

It had indeed occurred to him that in all these months, they had not had relations in that manner. They had experimented in all sorts of other ways, but for some reason, Grace had never seemed open to that position. He always assumed it simply was not enjoyable for her, and he did not feel the need to push the issue; there were a multitude of other ways they could enjoy one another.

"Now that you mention it, yes, that would seem to be the case. Why do you bring it up?"

"The reason I've never wanted to do that before with you isn't because I didn't want to do it," she said, tears in her eyes. "It was because I'd done it before."

His eyes widened. She did not need to explain further for him to understand what she was telling him. "Oh, my love…" He took her into his arms and felt her press her cheek to his shoulder, trying to convey with his body what his lips would not allow him to say. "We did not have to—"

"I know we didn't have to. That's exactly why I wanted to. It was the last broken thing, and you're the only person who could help me fix it. I'm carrying your child. I wanted to be a whole person again before it's born."

She looked away from him, as though saying the words aloud made their meaning sound ridiculous. He took her chin in his hand and gently brought her face back in his direction. His gaze was now more intense than hers had been.

"I want you to understand something, Grace. You are already whole, and I know this because I fell in love with the whole of you. But," he said, kissing her hand, "I am happy to have replaced that memory with one you might look more fondly upon."

She smiled then, and he kissed her on the mouth, as if to sear the memory in her mind forever. Then, she realized she had something else she wanted to ask. "Speaking of memories, I'm not going to forget what you were doing while you were on your knees for a long time. What was that?"

He shrugged. "I learned long ago that, while I may not always be able to control my Jotun form from appearing—as it did in that alley—I am able to summon it when and how I choose."

"So, you…turned?"

The impish grin returned to his face. "I did. Or, at least, my mouth did."

Although she knew he was trying to bring levity to their conversation, she remained serious. "But why? You hate your Jotun form."

"I do not mind so much when I am in control of it. Besides," he continued, with a wave of his hand, "you were the one who asked me to join you if I had any new skills I wanted to show you. I merely took you at your word."