Part Six: Wherein Loki has Trouble with his Sleeves

It was remarkable how quickly Sigourney fell into a kind of routine with Loki. They saw one another nearly every day, meeting up for tea or else running an errand. Days turned into weeks and autumn continued its slow march. The air grew steadily more frigid, the leaves were shorn from the trees and September gave way to October. It felt as though Loki had always been present in Sigourney's life. In a way, she knew he had. He featured in the stories her grandmother used to tell her and in the comic books she read.

Occasionally she would lie awake at night, mind full of 'what-ifs.' What if someone recognized him? What if he really was as bad as the news reels had made him out to be and all this was some kind of plot? What if she was under some kind of spell? But then she would go for a walk with him and listen to the way he talked about the sky. Or they would sit on the floor of her bedroom listening to her record collection. She would see the way his face creased when he laughed or the way his fingers tapped along to the rythm of a song she liked. And her fears vanished as though they had never been. What was more, Loki never pressed her on the matter of his feelings for her. He never expected her to show any kind of affection beyond the platonic. And he never asked for any more of her attention than a friend might. The more time she spent with him, the more she found she liked him.

Sigourney sat behind the counter in the book shop, leafing through a copy of Shakespeare's Sonnets. She occasionally glanced up at Loki as he paced along the first bank of bookcases. He seemed agitated, constantly pushing the sleeves of his green sweater up and looking out the windows at the front of the shop. He stopped to flip through a copy of something lying amongst the potted plants on the table by the windows, but discarded it quickly and resumed his pacing. If he didn't stop soon he'd wear a trench into the floor. Sigourney had already asked him what the matter was. He'd brushed her off with a half-hearted shrug and a wave. He looked as though he were going stir-crazy.

"It's a beautiful day, you know." Sigourney tried her best to sound casual, "I could put up the 'back in a bit' sign so we could go for a walk."

Loki stopped his pacing and looked at her for a moment, ringing his hands. Then he shrugged again, shaking his head. The shrug caused his sleeves to slip past his elbows. He shoved them up, impatiently, muttering to himself in a harsh voice. Evidently, the sweater was not an illusion like his fine suit had been. Sigourney owed herself five dollars. She had been convinced the garment was a result of whatever glamour Loki possessed.

Sigourney reached out a hand to him, smiling, "Come here, I'll fix it."

Loki crossed the distance between them in three long strides. He sat down into the chair beside her looking utterly defeated. Sigourney took one of his arms and pulled the sleeve of his sweater all the way down. She folded the sleeve back onto itself until the wrist-hem was above the crook of his elbow. Then she did it again, starting from the fold she'd made halfway up his forearm. The result was a perfect cuff around his upper arm that would keep the sleeve from sliding down again.

"There, that's better." She told him and started on his other arm, "Now, tell me what's got you so worked up."

He sighed, "I rather not trouble you with it."

"You've just spent the past half-hour pacing around the shop like a madman. I can't help but be troubled by it and I don't even know what it is." She kept her voice kind but firm, "You might as well just explain as best you can. Or is it to do with the things I need to figure out on my own?"

"It's... related." He admitted, "You recall how I called on your hospitality when I was injured some weeks ago?"

"Yes." Sigourney tried not to smile, "I don't think I'll forget that in a hurry. You said that your friends were the ones who'd done it."

"They don't much like me, I'm afraid." He said, watching her hands as she folded up his sleeve, "I saw them again while on my way here. They didn't see me. At least I don't think they did. I don't know."

"If they did and found you here," She said softly, with patience that was meant to comfort herself just as much as him, "would they try to hurt you again?"

"I barely escaped last time. They would kill me if they found me again... or worse." He explained.

Sigourney's hands lingered on his upper arm when she'd finished with his sleeve, "What could be worse than them killing you?"

"I can think of a great many things." He told her.

The bell above the door jingled, causing both Sigourney and Loki to jump. It was only Lavender, though, toting her backpack with a stack of books under her arm. She slowly came to a stop when she noticed the startled pair staring at her. Lavender raised an eyebrow at them and crossed the rest of the way to the counter. She dropped her backpack unceremoniously onto the floor before setting her books down neatly. She glanced at Sigourney's hands on Loki's arm, a knowing smile forming on her bubble-gum coloured lips. They matched her top and sneakers.

"Get a room, why won't you?" She smirked.

"You're early." Sigourney said, dropping her hands.

"Actually, I'm late." Lavender pulled her phone out of her pocket and waggled it a little in the air, "It's well past four. I would have been here sooner but there's some kind of demonstration or protest or something happening a few blocks down."

"What?" Sigourney stood up.

"Yeah, look at this." She fussed with her phone for a moment, then passed it across the counter.

The picture on Lavender's screen was of a woman and man standing together in the middle of the road. The woman was tall and athletic looking. She wore a plain red tee-shirt and dark jeans, her black hair pulled up into a high ponytail. The man next to her was rotund, dressed in white top, orange cardigan and grey pants. He could have been a lion with his mass of wavy ginger hair and matching beard. Lavender slid her finger across the screen and a new picture came up. This one was of two men. One also had long black hair, though he let it hang down well past his shoulders. He also looked very athletic and was wearing a black tee-shirt, dark purple pants and a leather jacket. The other was blonde and slender, his hair and goatee perfectly kept. He was dressed in a full suit of sunflower yellow. They too were standing in the middle of the road. The four of them looked to be stopping cars as well as passers-by, talking to them about something the pictures didn't show.

"The crazy thing is that they talked like something out of Shakespeare." Lavender nodded to where the book of Sonnets was sitting on the counter, "Maybe it was some kind of street production in modern dress? I dunno. It was strange, though."

"Do you recall what they were saying?" Loki asked, his voice tight.

Sigourney glanced at him. He'd gone pale and his hands were clenched so tight they were trembling. In fact, he looked as though he might be sick at any moment. Loki didn't take his eyes off the screen as he waited for a reply.

Lavender shrugged, "Not really."

His appearance was enough to tell Sigourney that these were the 'friends' he had seen on his way to the shop. From the look of them, it wasn't a wonder they had beaten him to a pulp back in September. The four people seemed incredibly formidable. Sigourney tried to picture them in armour, weapons drawn. It was enough to make anyone nervous.

"They seem familiar, somehow." Sigourney said, flipping between the two images.

She could feel Loki's eyes on her as she said it.

"Really? I thought so too." Lavender said, then shrugged, "Maybe they're a local group or something. I dunno. It was weird, but I'm here now."

She picked up her phone and tucked it into her pocket. Loki stood up so abruptly that he nearly knocked over his chair. He ducked around the counter, starting towards the door with a mumbled 'I have to go' and not so much as a glance over his shoulder. The shop door shut with a sharp clack behind him before Sigourney could say anything. The bell jingled then fell silent.

Lavender turned slowly from the door back to Sigourney, one eyebrow raised, "What's up with Locke? Did you guys fight or something?"

"No, nothing like that." Sigourney replied, hugging herself a little, "He's been odd all day. You should have seen him twenty minutes ago. I think he's just... having a bad day."

"Bad day aside, how's it going with him?" Lavender came around the counter to sit in Loki's chair, "You two seemed kinda cozy when I showed up."

Sigourney smiled and absentmindedly started stacking some of the books strewn across the counter, "Whatever do you mean?"

"You know what I mean." Lavender rolled her eyes, "You hardly spend five minutes apart."

"So?" Sigourney shrugged, knowing full well the smile plastered on her face gave away any hope of playing things cool.

Lavender shrugged back, "It's just good to see you so happy for once."

Sigourney had assumed that Loki would eventually come back. He didn't however, and as the day drew on she started to worry about him. He had seemed very upset even before Lavender had shown up with pictures of strange people. Sigourney wondered, idly turning through a magazine as she sat behind the counter, if Loki was now in some kind of danger. Surely staying put at the book shop would have been better than running off alone? She sighed, flipping another page without really seeing what was on it.

The bell at the door jingled and Sigourney nearly sprang out of her skin. A man in a dark suit stood by the door, surveying the shop, as he removed his sunglasses. A warning bell went off in Sigourney's mind and her stomach shot up into her chest. Everything about this too generic man, from his close cut sandy blonde hair to his too well-meaning smile, screamed 'government official.' She had to grip the edge of the counter to keep her hands from shaking as he slowly approached the desk with the measured ease of a Dad at his kid's soccer team barbecue.

"Hi there." He flashed her that easy smile, raising his hand in a sort of wave.

Sigourney opened her mouth and nothing came out, she cleared her throat and tried again, "Can... can I help you with something?"

"This is a nice shop." He looked around again, "My niece would love it. Been here long?"

"Three and a half years." Sigourney said, trying to make out the shape of a gun-holster under the lines of his suit jacket, "Or there abouts."

"Huh." The man nodded, still smiling, and turned his gaze back to Sigourney, "It's a nice neighborhood, isn't it? Pretty quiet."

Sigourney nodded.

"Though," The man said with yet more casual ease, "I was at the bakery earlier and there was some kind of commotion on the street. You hear about that?"

"Ugh, yeah. Yeah we did." Sigourney glanced to where Lavender was standing by the windows, pretending to water the plants.

Her eyes were big and her usually rosey undertone had gone somewhat pale.

Sigourney looked back at the far-too-generic man, "It was some kind of Shakespeare in the Park thing, wasn't it?"

"Is that what it was?" The man frowned in a contemplative sort of way and looked out the front windows for a moment, "Huh, how about that."

There was a beat of silence where in Sigourney thought her heart would explode out of her chest.

Then the man said, "You wouldn't happen to have a copy of Venetia by Georgette Heyer, would you?"

"Umm." Sigourney flipped through the open inventory catalog on the counter, "No, sorry."

"Ah," The man shrugged, "well that's too bad. I was hoping to pick it up for my niece. Would it be alright if I left my card? You could call me if you get a copy in."

"Sure." Sigourney nodded, fighting the urge to glance at Lavender again.

The man reached into the chest of his jacket and pulled out a business card. He handed it to Sigourney with a smile.

"Oh, and you know, if you happen to see that Shakespeare in the Park group again, give me a call." He said cheerfully, "I'm a big fan of modern productions and would love to catch them if I can."

"Okay." Sigourney nodded, "Sure."

"Thanks. Have a good one." The man smiled, gave them another wave, and left the shop.

Both Sigourney and Lavender let out their breath.

"He was weird, right?" Lavender asked, "Like, that wasn't just me? He was weird?"

"Yeah," Sigourney nodded, looking down at the business card in her hand, "He was weird."

"Like, he was definitely a Cop or something." Lavender shook her head and turned back to the plants.

The business card was plain white with a no-nonsense type face that read P. Coleson. Under the name was a phone number with an area code Sigourney didn't recognize. She tucked the card into the top drawer of the counter, her fingers trembling.

"Yeah, something like that." She agreed, feeling like she might pass out.

Whoever this P. Coleson was, he absolutely wasn't interested in Georgette Heyer or Shakespeare. But he was interested in Loki's 'friends.' Sigourney could feel it in the center of her chest like a weight. He was the sort of man who would sit across from her at a table in a windowless room, asking too-calm questions about the nature of Sigourney's relationship with the war criminal Loki. She was certain of it. And it made the back of her teeth hurt just thinking about it.

A little later, near to closing, the phone rang.

Lavender answered it cheerfully, "Fidelity Books, how can I help you?"

Sigourney had to remind herself firmly that P. Coleson could not possibly be on the other end. Then she tried to quash the blossoming hope that it might be Loki asking for her. Logic told her there was no way he would know how to operate a telephone let alone know the shop's number. Lavender started answering questions about their inventory, 'yes they had Austen' and 'no, they didn't carry much Dickens.' Sigourney bit the inside of her lip and left the desk to straighten out the shelves.

As she set the books to rights, she thought about just how depended she had become on Loki in such a short time. It irritated her to no end. She had never been an overly clingy or needy person. In fact, she was just the opposite. She was solitary to the point of causing detriment to her social life. Wasn't her distant nature the reason she had fallen out with all of the people she spent time with in High School? She was constantly being told she needed to be more social, to spend more time with other people rather than shutting herself away in her own company all the time. Loki had changed all that, somehow, without her even realizing it. And now she was agitated like a teenager waiting for her crush to call. She hated it.

Walking home that evening, Sigourney told herself in no uncertain terms that she wasn't to expect Loki waiting on her doorstep for her. She would only be disappointed. She was anyway when she got home and he wasn't there. But Fiske was there, waiting impatiently at her door to be let in and given his second dinner. Sigourney was glad for the company.

As she and Fiske ate in silence a magpie landed on the rail of Sigourney's balcony. She stood up, her chair scraping against the lamenet floor with a hollow whine that made Fiske spring up off the table.

"Loki?" Sigourney called.

But the bird flew off again before she was even half way to the window. It wasn't him. Her chest went tight and her eyes stung with an onset of tears she didn't understand. She bit them back, pressing her lips tight together until the sensation eased. Then she took a breath, sat down, and finished her dinner.