Part Three: In Which They Visit Ikea

Sigourney felt like the world was going to fall out from under her. If anyone else had spoken the words she had just heard, she would have laughed in their face at such a blatent lie. But she knew, in her heart of hearts, that the words had been true. Loki, Norse God of Mischief, was sitting on her bed holding her hands. More than that, he had all but implied that he loved her. Her stomach was practically in her throat and her hands trembled in his. Though, she couldn't be certain if that was from fear or the fact that his touch was glacier.

"Please say something." He said, a hint of panic in his voice, "Siggy, please. Say something."

"You...?" She started, then faultered, "Siggy?"

He blinked at her, "Do your friends not call you Siggy?"

"I-" Sigourney spluttered a little, "I don't have any friends. Don't change the subject!"

"I'm not. I'm not." Loki said, hurriedly.

Sigourney had seen the footage of the attack in New York and of the aftermath that followed. She knew what the man before her had done. In that moment, though, it was hard to believe he was the same person. He hardly looked like the interplanetary war criminal who's laughing face had plastered every screen in the world.

"Tell me why I shouldn't call SHEILD right now and have them dump you on Tony Stark's doorstep?" Sigourney asked, her voice hardly more than a terrified whisper, "I saw the footage from Stuttgart. I heard your big speech. I know what you think of humans. What you must think of me."

Loki's jaw clenched and he swallowed hard. He shut his eyes again. Sigourney's heartstrings twanged painfully within her chest. There was something in his sallow face that spoke of a great change between New York and this moment. She would have thought him almost sorry. A wave of compassion washed over her despite the fear still bubbling in her stomach. Curse her soft heart.

"You're hiding, aren't you?" She asked gently.

He nodded.

"I'm not going to call anyone." She said, trying to sound calmer than she really was, "They'd probably think me mad. And I don't actually know how to call SHEILD. But I do need to know everything before I get dragged into whatever this is. Like, how did you find my house? How did you know where I live?"

"I followed you home through the park, that day I came into your shop." He told her quickly, "My intentions were honorable, I swear. I wanted to ensure your safety."

Sigourney felt her throat go dry, "You... you were the magpie?"

He nodded again.

"And did you also unlock the front door of the shop that day? Using magic or something?" She asked.

"I did." He admitted.

"Never again." She told him, voice firm, "You never do anything like that to me, or anyone else, ever again. I'm a person. You ask for my permission so that I can decide whether or not you're invading my privacy. Alright?"

He nodded again, looking very much like a child who had just been scolded, "I understand. And I am sorry."

Sigourney touched her hand to his cold cheek and turned his face towards hers. He didn't meet her gaze. Instead he covered her hand with his own, pressing it tightly to his cold skin. Sigourney couldn't help but be a little taken-aback. His dark hair fell across his features when he turned his face further into her palm. She could feel his breath against her hand, his lips against her skin. It wasn't a kiss, but it was very close to being one. She studied his face again, more carefully this time. His brow knit together as he squeezed her hand to his cheek. It looked to Sigourney as though he had been craving this sort of a touch for a long time and was now savouring every second of it. He was lost. And he was still clutching his side.

"Forgive me." He mumbled into her palm, his eyes fluttering open as he reluctantly released her hand.

"It's alright." She smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring way, then she gestured to his side, "I think I'd better take a look at that."

Loki nodded as he gingerly let go of his torso. Then he slowly pulled up the bottom of his shirt, flinching at the motion. Sigourney had always thought that 'bruised black and blue' was nothing more than an expression. She was wrong. The entire right side of Loki's abdomen, from his hip to his chest, was covered in bruises so dark they made the rest of his skin look alabaster by comparison. Sigourney covered her mouth with her hand, stifling a gasp. Judging from the grimmise on Loki's face it was painful just to breathe.

"You should lie down." Sigourney said through her fingers.

Loki nodded again, his breath coming out in sharp, suppressed, whines. He repositioned himself and very slowly stretched out across the bed. His feet still hung over the edge. Sigourney seated herself close beside him, her leg pressed up against his uninjured side. She gingerly pulled the fabric of his shirt up further to get a better look. He clenched his jaw, face scrunched in pain, and made a sort of choking sound in the back of his throat. Sigourney had never seen anything like it. She also had absolutely no idea what to do. The first aid training she had taken in high school, nearly seven years ago, escaped her completely.

"Can you... break a rib?" She asked, hands hovering uselessly over his abdomen, "I mean, is that something that's even possible? For an... an Asgardian?"

"It is." He groaned, voice tight, "But I rather doubt that anything is broken."

"Are... are you sure?" She stammered, "Because it looks pretty bad. Do you want an ice pack?"

He let out a slow shuddering breath, then said, "Laying here helps. I just need to rest. I'll be fine, I assure you."

Sigourney helped him pull his shirt back down, covering the mess. She moved to leave, but Loki's hand found hers. He looked half asleep already, lying stretched across her floral bedspread. His long fingers intertwined with hers lazily.

"Don't go, Siggy." Loki mumbled.

"Siggy again?" She whispered to herself, shaking her head.

Everyone she knew called her Sigourney. Everyone. Even her parents. For as long as she could remember that had been it. No nicknames, no pet names, nothing but Sigourney. So where was 'Siggy' coming from? She didn't mind it. On the contrary, it felt... right... when he called her that.

Sigourney shook the thought from her head and added it to the ever increasing list of ways her life had become strange over the past forty-eight hours. Loki, the prankster God she had read about as a child and the warrior who had brought New York to its knees, was asleep in her bed. The fact that he had given her a nickname should not have been the most confusing part of her day.

At the very top of her list of questions sat the most daunting. Why her? Loki could have chosen anyone in the world. Anyone in the universe. It was a globally known fact that he hated humans. So why was he here in her bedroom? Sigourney was certain it had to do with how he had looked at her upon their first meeting. The smile that seemed to say he was overjoyed to see her and that wave of disappointment that followed. As if it pained him to his core that she... that she what? Didn't recognize him?

"It's not my fault." She whispered to herself, "You look different without the helmet."

"Do I really?" Loki murmured.

Sigourney hadn't expected him to hear her let alone reply, "Yes. You do."

"Hmm..." He shifted a little, but didn't open his eyes as he said, "Is that good or bad?"

"I don't know yet." She replied, absentmindedly stroking the back of his bruised and grazed hand with her thumb, "Loki?"

"Mmm?" He was nearly out.

"Why did you attack New York?" Sigourney asked.

"I was angry with my brother." He mumbled.

"That... is a very bad reason to attack a city full of people." She told him.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time." He almost smiled, "But that's another in a long line of poor excuses, I know."

"Do you regret it?" Sigourney asked the question before she could stop herself.

He was quiet for a moment, then asked quietly, "Where were you? When it happened?"

"Scandinavia." She watched him, "Visiting my Grandparents. Two weeks on a farm in rural Norway and then two weeks in very small Swedish village. I was practically off the grid the entire time. I didn't hear about New York until I got back home. Even then, it's different up here than it is in the States. We get everything second hand so it feels more removed somehow. I guess that's why I didn't recognize you."

"Can you say it again?" He mumbled nearly incoherently.

"What, all of it?" She asked.

"No... no." He squeezed her hand a little, "Just my name."

Sigourney felt foolish, but said gently, "Loki."

A smile tugged at his lips and he squeezed her hand again. Sigourney sat with him until she was certain he was asleep. She was just about to get up and try to leave him again when a dazzling, pale green light rippled across his body. Sigourney's mouth fell open as she watched the light run across his skin. When it vanished again, Loki looked like an even more exhausted version of himself. His cheeks were more hollow, making him look sickly. Scars that hadn't been there moments before appeared on his arms and face. Sigourney couldn't tear her eyes away from his mouth. The scars around and across his lips, thin gashes that connected to deep pox in his flesh, could have only been made in one way. Someone had sewn his mouth shut at one point. Sigourney raised her hands to her own mouth, not believing what she was seeing.

Loki must have been using magic to maintain his appearance. It made sense in a way Sigourney could only just wrap her head around. She supposed that while sleeping he had finally relaxed enough for the spell to give out. She wondered, looking down at his ragged form, how much of his energy was taken up by that magic. If she had to guess, she would have said a great deal of it probably went into ensuring people saw him in just the way he wanted them to see him. This solved another mystery, at least. It explained why he had looked so different from the man who had come into her bookshop just the previous day. His well groomed and polished exterior had been hiding an utter disaster just below the surface the entire time. He'd been too beat up to maintain his facade properly. It made Sigourney's heart go out to him even more.

Loki slept for a few solid hours in which Sigourney fed herself and managed to go through some of her mail. It was just after one-thirty when she heard him stirring. She set down the letter she'd been looking over and walked as softly as she could to peek around the wall into her bedroom. Loki was slowly pushing himself up off of the bed, running a hand through his black hair.

"Are you feeling any better?" Sigourney asked.

He turned and smiled at her, "I am."

Loki certainly looked much better. His colour had returned and his face looked fuller. His injuries had nearly vanished too. Most significantly, though, was that his scars were nowhere to be seen. Sigourney watched him stretch and get to his feet. Evidently, his bruised side had also improved. She couldn't help but wonder how much of that was Asgardian healing and how much of it was the magic he used to keep up appearances. She almost liked his scar-ridden features better. They seemed more genuine than the perfectly calculated face grinning at her. At least his hair was still unruly.

"Good." She crossed her arms and wandered back into the kitchen.

Sigourney still didn't fully understand how she was feeling about him. She had hoped that by the time Loki woke up she would have a better grip on that part of things. Unfortunately, she still didn't. It should have been incredibly simple. She should have hated him or been afraid of him. But she didn't and she wasn't. In fact, she kind of felt sorry for him. A deep compassion had wedged itself right into her heart. It was that feeling that confused her to no end. She would not allow herself to consider what he had said about 'love at first sight' and what that might mean in regards to her.

"Shall we go?" Loki asked, coming to stand in the kitchen with her, "Or do you require a few more moments to prepare yourself?"

"Go?" She looked up at him, blinking.

"To fetch your bookcase." He smiled.

"Oh, ugh." She felt her brow knit together, "I didn't think that we were still going to doing that. Considering, you know, everything."

He raised his brows at her, "Why not? I'm more than fit."

"Are you sure?" She pressed.

"Yes, very." He chuckled and pulled up his shirt, exposing his middle again, "See?"

The bruises looked as though they had already had a week and a half of healing. They were no longer black and deep purple, but rather the light browns and muddy yellows that signaled repair. Sigourney could hardly believe her eyes.

"Well, alright." She shrugged, defeated, as Loki set his shirt to rights again.

"It's rather cool out." He mentioned, plucking her dark green cardigan off the back of a chair, "You may want this."

"Thanks." She took it from him and smiled, noticing that he was still barefoot, "You may want some shoes."

"Huh." He looked down at his feet.

Loki wiggled his toes a little. The same shimmering green light that Sigourney had seen earlier danced over his feet and black sneakers appeared out of nowhere.

"There." He smiled at her, "Problem solved."

As it turned out, Loki's car was a very boxy hatchback that looked as though it were straight out of 1984. Sigourney stood on the sidewalk staring at the dusty black vehicle parked crookedly against the curb. She wasn't certain if she should laugh or run.

"You can drive, can't you?" She asked bluntly.

Loki scoffed, "I have piloted far more complex transportation vehicles than this. I hardly think you need worry."

He sounded very confident. Sigourney's stomach was in knots as she got into the passenger seat. Loki shut her door for her, leaving her momentarily alone as he walked around the car to the driver's side. She fastened her seatbelt and pulled it tight across her lap. It gave her some comfort, at least. Loki got into the car and turned the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life, making him smile widely.

"You do have a license, right?" Sigourney asked, still gripping her seatbelt.

"A what?" He laughed and pulled the car out from the curb.

Loki drove exactly as Sigourney imagined he would: like a total maniac. He was all over the road, swerving around the other cars and screaming through intersections. The world blurred past the windows as they raced down the street. Sigourney pressed herself as far back into her seat as she could, gripping the edge so tightly her knuckles turned white. Loki didn't appear to notice that anything was out of place. He chatted happily, half to Sigourney and half to the road itself, as they barreled down the highway at top speed. When David Bowie's Scary Monsters came on the radio, Loki cranked up the volume and sang along. It was at about that same point when Sigourney realized that they had, miraculously, not actually hit anything or caused an accident yet. Other cars laid on their horns as Loki artfully dodged around them, but no one slammed on their breaks or went wheeling into anyone else. Loki let out a cackling laugh and tossed his head back as they careened down a hill and through a red light, thoroughly enjoying himself.

It was a wonder they reached the Ikea alive. Loki screamed into the lot, found a spot, parked and cut the engine. Sigourney sat in the sudden silence astonished by the mere fact that she was still breathing. She couldn't make her fingers unclench from around her seatbelt. Loki got out of the car and stretched. He popped his hands onto his hips, surveying the large building as though he were planning on buying the entire thing. Sigourney shut her eyes and silently hoped that she would get through the day in one piece. A sudden knock at the car window made her nearly jump right out of her skin.

"What are you waiting for?" Loki's cheerful voice was muffled somewhat by the glass between them.

He was beaming at her as he opened her door. Sigourney tried to return his smile and got out of the car. Together they walked across the parking lot to the main doors of the building. Once inside, Sigourney lead him up the stairs to the display floor. She wasn't even certain what kind of bookcase she was looking for. She would have to see what there was.

Considering it was the middle of a Tuesday afternoon, it was only mildly crowded. Sigourney and Loki followed along the arrowed path with the rest of the shoppers, looking at the furniture set up all around them. She would have thought that it would bore Loki. On the contrary, he seemed rather fascinated by it all, despite his best efforts to seem otherwise. He kept asking questions about mass production, as though the concept alluded him. Sigourney answered as best she could, not really knowing all the details herself. From what she gathered, he was used to incredibly fine, custom made, one of a kind furniture. She supposed it did make sense. Wasn't he, technically, some kind of a Prince? Something that particularly caught his interest were the mock-rooms set up throughout the display floor. Loki spent a lot of time examining the kitchens and bedrooms, opening up cupboards and drawers.

"Is not this the same table in your home?" He asked, contemplating the two person dining set in one of the mock kitchens.

Sigourney couldn't help but laugh, "Well, yeah. I bought it from here."

Loki tried the tap in the sink, looking mildly disappointed when nothing happened, and moved on to the next kitchen. When they finally reached the section where the bookcases were kept the two spent a long time comparing and contrasting the available options. Eventually they settled on a white LIATORP. Sigourney took down the information from the tag all while Loki hovered over her shoulder. Then they followed the arrows through the rest of the display floor until they came back to where they had originally begun.

"Are you hungry?" Sigourney asked, gesturing to the restaurant.

"Yes, but why is it that a furniture vendor also serves food?" He asked.

"I... don't actually know." Sigourney shrugged, taking his hand, "But the meatballs are great. Come on."

Ordering food in the style of a cafeteria line was, like so many things, Sigourney was realizing, a completely foreign concept to Loki. Sigourney did all of the talking, explaining as she went what the pictures and numbers posted on the wall were for. Sigourney payed for the food and Loki carried the tray, following her to one of the many available tables. They sat by the large windows that overlooked the parking lot. Sigourney could tell by the poorly concealed look on his face that Loki was apprehensive about trying the food. She thought it might have helped if the man serving them hadn't just dumped the gravy all over the dish. Still, she lead by example and started eating.

"So," She started, cutting one of her meatballs in half, "I have a question. Actually, I have a lot of questions."

"I'll do my best to answer." He replied, copying her every move as though he were scared of doing it wrong.

She thought for a moment, then asked, "Why are you on Earth? I mean, I thought you hated us."

"Hate is..." He thought for a moment, "too simple a word. My feelings for this realm are far more complex than that. As to why I'm here, I was under the impression we covered that earlier today? I'm hiding, remember?"

"Yes, we did," Sigourney said after swallowing her mouthful, "but I was hoping for a little more detail than that. Earth seems like the last place you would want to hide considering that, after everything, you're kind of the sworn enemy of the whole planet."

"I would think that's putting it rather mildly." He smiled and finally took a bite of his food.

Sigourney watched the expression on his face turn to surprise and then soften. It was almost like he had expected the food to turn to ash in his mouth. She smiled and took another bite of her own meal.

Loki swallowed and said, "To properly answer your question, I'm also here looking for something."

"What?" She asked, curious.

"It's... complicated." He nudged at the green beans encregulously with his fork.

"That seems to be a theme for you." Sigourney pointed out, but smiled.