The same things kept running through Steve's mind, like little cockroaches scurrying out into the light and back into the shadows: sixty years, asleep for sixty years, everything's different, and Lukas is from another planet, how is all that even possible?

He was going mad. Or maybe he was already mad. But mad or not, he was alive. So he had to deal with it. It was true and real, and he'd seen the buildings and the cars and he knew this was the future.

He didn't really believe Lukas was from outer space, that still felt like a fairy tale. He looked so normal sprawling in the chair and drinking beer, while flipping through the papers left for them.

Well, "normal". His hair was too long, brushing the tops of his shoulders and curling at the ends and where he tucked it behind his ears. He was wearing the same black suit trousers and white, button-up shirt with the green necktie, not even loosened, as if it was comfortable that way.

He glanced up, sensing Steve's eyes on him. "What?"

Steve wasn't going to say any of that, so he waved to the big picture frame with the black shiny interior, sitting on the table across the rug from the sofa. "So what is that?" Steve asked. "I assume it shows pictures like the one in the deli?"

"Television," Lukas said. "Like a combination radio and motion picture. Has a variety of programs, like news, sport, entertainment." He grabbed a small handheld device. "You control it with this wand. It uses infrared signals, not magic, despite the name."

The television made a strange popping groan and the screen flickered before coming to life, as a color image of a man spraying his garden with a hose while a voice intoned something about killing weeds.

"Advert," Lukas said and pushed a button on the wand. "So I change the channel, up or down, until I find something interesting. Here." He tossed the wand to Steve. "You try."

Steve snagged it, and with a little experimentation figured out what the symbols meant, and was clicking through, astonished. Even radio hadn't had so many channels of different things and all of it in brilliant color and sound. He stopped on a baseball game, glad to see something familiar and amazed to see the different views. He'd seen less at a game in person than he did on this television.

He watched the game, letting his mind focus on something that wasn't bizarre was a relief. At least until they mentioned the Los Angeles Dodgers.

"What? Los Angeles! That's stupid! How could they move there!" he demanded, incensed.

"I have no idea," Lukas said, mildly, but seemed amused by Steve's anger, which made him angrier.

He was so agitated, he jumped to his feet and alternated crossing his arms and gesturing. "They were Brooklyn, my team. And now they're in Los Angeles! I can't root for the fucking Yankees! You know, I could handle the future, I can handle you being from some other planet, but I can't handle the Dodgers in California!"

Looking up at him, Lukas watched with a smile dancing on his lips and suggested innocently, "There are also the Mets, I believe?"

Steve gagged at the thought, and Lukas burst out into laughter, shaking his head. "Of all the things to find appalling in this time, the transfer of one sports team to another city seems fairly minor, Steven."

"It's..." he waved a hand vaguely, helpless to explain. "My town. A symbol. And now that's been yanked away, too. I thought they'd be in Brooklyn forever, but they're gone." He settled back on the sofa, tired now that the temper had passed. "It's different."

"I should not have laughed," Lukas said after a moment. "This is difficult, I know."

Steve scrubbed a hand through his hair and looked down at the SSR undershirt he was wearing, wishing he'd been able to keep the fantasy of it still being the Forties just a little while longer.

But that wasn't real, and he'd have to get used to the truth no matter how long it was put off. He was in the next century, so he'd better deal with what was true.

He stood up again, restless. "You want to get out of here for a little while?" he asked. "I want to see the city. I think that'll help me figure this out."

"Of course," Lukas agreed. He went to the table and pocketed some things from the table.

Steve put his shoes back on, and they left, clattering down the stairs. Outside on the sidewalk, they paused. "Where do you want to go?" Lukas asked. "The park? Downtown? Back to Times Square?"

Steve glanced left and right and decided east. "Let's explore."

They headed back toward the new skyscrapers of Midtown. It was warm, but the trees were turning leaves, announcing that it was truly fall, despite the current warm spell.

Without Fury hastening their steps, Steve could stop and look at whatever he wanted, and Lukas would explain as best he could, though occasionally he gave a shrug of 'humans are strange, how should I know?' It was nothing he hadn't done during the war, but it made more sense now that he understood Lukas wasn't just a superhuman spy from Arendelle.

But finally, his wandering path made sense and he looked up, knowing this was where his feet had been carrying him. "Let's go in."

Loki tagged along after Steve, as Steve poked his head into various shops and lunch places. It was helpful for Loki to see the city, since he was not nearly as familiar with it as Steve seemed to assume. Other than memorizing the map, which kept him oriented, Loki understood far less about the city than Steve did, even sixty years after he'd lived in it.

When Steve found his destination, Loki craned back his head to one of the tall buildings and read the sign. "The Empire State Building?"

"Let's go up," Steve said. "I want to see the city from on high." Inside the glass doors into the lobby, he paused, looking around. "It's just as it was," he breathed. "This is – this is amazing."

The line to get tickets was the opposite of amazing, and Loki pulled out his phone like everyone else in the line as they waited.

"That's a phone?" Steve asked, impressed with the small size.

"It's a phone, but also a radio, television, newspaper, and source for information, all on this tiny screen," Loki listed off. "Definitely a technological leap of recent years."

"Show me?"

So Loki showed him the phone, and it was probably their relative ages, but Steve seemed to pick up its use even better than Loki did, despite Loki's familiarity with higher technology elsewhere. Or perhaps it was because it was a human phone made by humans, so it was more intuitively obvious to Steve. But in any case, he was soon reading Wikipedia while they stood in line.

It was maddening to wait in line, when he could've cloaked them in illusion and skipped the line altogether, but Steve shook his head when Loki offered it. "No, I want to wait. I remember when Bucky and I came, not long after it opened. Spent every dime we had, waited in line for hours, but, y'know, standing up there, seeing Bucky's face at the sight…. It was worth every penny," he murmured.

When it was time to buy tickets, Loki figured they'd done enough waiting, and asked about the fastest way to the top. Steve gasped and nearly had a coronary when he heard the price. "Lukas! Oh my God, that's so expensive, that's too much!"

Loki slapped the card on the table and pushed it to the clerk. "Two," he confirmed. "To the top. As quickly as possible. I've had quite enough of nostalgic queueing."

The clerk nodded and printed their passes and handed two souvenir books to Loki, who promptly passed them to Steve.

Heading for the special elevator line, Steve hissed at him, "That's not even our money."

Loki glanced at him. "Nonsense. That credit card is to help you get oriented and what's better to get oriented than one of the tallest buildings in the city? They surely foresaw that cost."

"But-"

Loki cut off his objection, pointing around the corner to a room full of people waiting in yet another horrific queue. "We could be over there. So think of this as SHIELD's welcome home present and let's go up."

On the first transfer area, they were fed through a photographing area, where Loki was going to walk straight through, not wanting his photograph taken, but Steve tugged him back. "C'mon, they're just trying to do their job."

"Their job is to take photos that they offer for us to purchase at ridiculous prices when we leave," Loki corrected him.

"We don't have to buy it. Come on."

So Loki stood next to Steve to have their photo taken against the dull green background, and he was sure Steve was smiling as Loki stared at the camera, not wanting any part of this.

He did wonder, as the attendants hustled them off with their claim ticket to get to the next group behind them, whether anyone would ever figure out it was them. Captain America and the Ice Demon taking tourist photos at the Empire State Building might be worth something, once the public became aware they were in this time.

Finally they were in the next elevator to go up to the observation deck. Going outside, he had the delight of watching Steve's face transform at the sight of his city laid out at his feet.

He gripped the safety fence and looked for a long moment. They faced downtown, toward the high towers that way, and Loki stayed next to him, more interested in Steve's face than the city laid out before them. "It's so big," Steve murmured. "So tall. So… everything," he finished, a little helpless-sounding.

"I remember it as a pit," Loki said dryly. "Cholera, sewage, pig farms - it was vile."

"Oh hush," Steve jabbed him in the ribs with a sharp elbow. "Be quiet. I'm trying to be amazed."

Loki chuckled but stopped needling him, following as Steve circled the deck, looking and pointing out the landmarks he recognized.

When they faced Stark Tower, all modern glass and curves, Steve stared at that one for a bit longer. "Stark?" he asked. "Howard?"

"His son, Tony," Loki corrected. "Howard died in 1991."

"Oh." Steve wasn't seeing the tower or the city beyond it, looking blankly into the past. Given where he was looking, Loki shouldn't have been surprised, but he had no idea what Steve was talking about when Steve said, "You can lay it on me."

"Lay what?"

Steve tapped his fingers against the formed balustrade and the metal of the fencing, and had to take a deep breath before he said, "Bucky. Peggy. When did they – when did they die?"

A smile spread across Loki's face, irrepressible. Finally, he had some good news to share with Steve. "They didn't. They're both still alive, Steven."

Steve stared at him. "But, they must be – ninety years old!"

"So are you," Loki retorted.

"They're not-" His eyes flared. "Oh my God, did they get some kind of serum, too?"

Loki grimaced, and Steve's face fell at his expression. "I did not intend – no. They are elderly, but still alive. I'm told James is … well-preserved."

Loki thought the dry words would get Steve's attention, but instead it was something else. "You're told?" he repeated. "You haven't seen either of them?"

"No," he answered, thinking that Steve was much braver than he was to ask about their friends so quickly. "I only recently found out they were still living myself. And they are located in the DC area." He looked out across the skyline towards Stark's building. "There wasn't time to visit, when I wanted to be there for you when you awoke."

Steve frowned, confused by something, but shrugged it away. "Then we need to go visit."

"We will," Loki agreed. "I think you could use a few days of transition before traveling there, though."

Steve stiffened as if he wanted to argue, before letting out a short laugh and relaxing again. "All right, I get it. You don't think I'm ready."

"No," Loki answered. "Not yet. Steven, they've waited this long, they can wait a few more days."

"What if…."

Steve couldn't make himself finish the speculation, and Loki found he couldn't either. So he said, giving a tight shrug, "Then we know it wasn't meant to be."

Steve hesitated, looking away, pressing his lips and brows drawn tight in distress, but he nodded finally, in acceptance.

While Loki wouldn't say the Norns couldn't be that cruel, because of course they could, he suspected it was the other way around, that Steve had been recovered and Loki had come back to Midgard at this time, so they would have time to see their friends again.

They stayed on the observation deck as long as Steve wanted to look at the city. Loki would normally have gotten bored and restless, but he was tired enough to wait patiently and watch the city, standing behind Steve's shoulder to force other people to go around them, while Steve leaned on the rail and looked across the river toward Brooklyn.

"Are we going there?" Loki asked.

Steve shook his head. "Not today. Tomorrow maybe. It seems too far today." He turned away from the view. "You ready to go down?"

Below at the photo station, Steve held out his hand for the claim ticket. "Come on, we've got to look at it. It'll be good to have a memento of this day, won't it?"

Rolling his eyes but resigned to Steve's enthusiasm, Loki held out the ticket and in an appallingly short time, he was also pulling out his credit card again to buy a ridiculously overpriced photo. But not even the price dissuaded Steve from buying it once he saw it. In the image, Steve was smiling, arm hanging over Loki's shoulder, while Loki looked straight at the camera with such a disgruntled expression even Loki had to admit it was comical.

He made Steve carry the little bag, though.

They stopped for pizza on the way back to the flat, and as the server walked away, Steve stilled and leaned forward to murmur, "Do you think SHIELD is following us?"

"Certainly they are tracking us," Loki answered. He hadn't caught them at it, but he also knew his phone was sending out a signal and SHIELD knew where that was. "Why?"

"There's a man who sat down behind you, and he's watching us in the mirror above the bar."

Wondering if it was SHIELD or someone was recognizing Steve, Loki flicked his eyes at the mirror, gaze colliding with the watcher's, who looked away hastily, flustered and blushing. Loki smiled. "I think he finds you attractive, Steven. Nothing alarming."

Steve cleared his throat. "Oh."

"There were more than a few people on the tower who were also 'checking you out', as they say these days," Loki kept going, cheerfully needling his discomfort. "That T-shirt is rather… snug."

Steve looked down as if only just realizing that a shirt that might as well be painted on was not the way to be ignored. Not that anyone was going to ignore that face and physique if they had eyes, but Steve was always charming when he was embarrassed.

He looked up and tried to toss it back at Loki to make him embarrassed, "You noticed."

Loki smirked and leaned back in his chair, at his ease. "Steven, I was noticing men long before you were born."

He blinked. "But you and Natasha- I thought – Sorry, I was assuming-"

Loki raised his brows. "Oh, you weren't wrong. Well, you're wrong if you think we've done anything, but not wrong that I find her attractive." He shrugged. "But I'm old, I bore easily, and as they say, variety is the spice of life."

Steve drank his beer, musing over what he was saying. "During the war, you never-" he gestured and added, "seemed interested. In anybody, really, now I'm thinking about it."

"Because it was the war, and I wanted no attachments to any who would soon perish." Not that it had worked very well, but that had been the idea.

"And now?" Steve asked.

Loki looked into his glass, watching the little bubbles chase each other to the surface. "You can't hold on to something so tightly that you can't let go of it. That's still true. Even if it's a difficult piece of advice to take."

"That doesn't prevent casual relations," Steve said, with a careful euphemism that made Loki smile.

But since the path of 'casual relations' went straight to Elsa's mother and had ended up causing him more pain than anything else he'd ever felt, he sidestepped the implicit question with a smirk. "No, it doesn't. So if you're looking for a little… relaxation, let me know."

But Steve was far less flustered than Loki expected by the offer, blue eyes blinking and looking back, before he responded levelly, "Maybe I will."

Feeling his bluff very definitively called, Loki found his lips dry and his heart was thudding noticeably, as what had been a more aesthetic appreciation for Steve in his T-shirt abruptly became a mental image of his fingers on those broad shoulders. And in a split second he'd pictured it, all the way to Steve's graceful, but strong hands sliding down the front of his trousers.

… hands touching him..

Recoiling in his chair so hard his knee slammed into the table and the beer sloshed dangerously, he grabbed for the glass to steady it.

"You okay?" Steve asked, frowning. "I didn't mean to shock you, or -"

"I'm fine. There was a – a bug. Startled me." Loki held himself to one swallow, even if he wanted to gulp the rest of the glass, and he tried a laugh. "You and that innocent face- I forgot how quick you are." He held out his glass for a toast and then, thank the fates, the food arrived.

When they returned to the apartment, Loki busied himself with putting Lila's pictures on display in his bedroom and unpacking his few belongings into the empty drawers and bathroom.

Steve emerged from his room, freshly showered and in a change of clothes, similar to what he'd been wearing before, but the T-shirt said SHIELD on it and shorts. He flicked on the television, and watched it with his phone beside him to look up references with only occasional questions of how to spell something.

Loki had never been bothered by not understanding random historical or cultural references. He gathered the meaning well enough to play along or simply made it clear he didn't care, because he didn't. Yet living with the Bartons had made him familiar with a great deal of it, through their eagerness to share their favorites with him.

However, gaining an encyclopedic knowledge of Disney Princesses did not seem to be of much use watching shows that were supposedly humorous but only through their pop culture references, and he was soon bored and texted Natasha: "Rogers settling well. We went to ESB and ate pizza."

She returned. "I heard. rest tonight. see you in the a.m."

Disappointed by the end of the conversation, he decided to look himself up online, but when Professor Randolph's work on the Ice Demon came up immediately, Loki stabbed the phone off.

Steve groaned afterward and in response to Loki's inquiring look answered, "There's so much. I'm trying to read the summary here, and it's … I don't know who half these people are. So then I look them up and-"

"Steven," Loki cut in. "None of it is really important. It's the past. It's history. And while that's useful to learn, it's not going to help you deal with today."

"But everything I missed -"

"Do you think all these people," Loki gestured toward the window, "know the history of the last sixty years either? Humans are mostly ignorant and insular, and care only about what directly affects them."

Steve straightened as if he wanted to argue with that, but Loki gave him a look not to start with him. "I'm more than three hundred years old, Steven. I have seen much of this world and the people in it."

"And it's made you cynical," Steve accused.

"In three hundred more years we'll have this conversation again and you can tell me if I'm wrong."

Steve paused and shook his head, frowning. "Three hundred years? I'm not gonna- I'm not like you."

It was Loki's turn to frown. "Are you certain? Perhaps not 'like me' but you did not age at all in six decades; I would expect the serum to grant you a great deal of longevity. Is that not so?"

Steve sat back on the couch and looked blindly at the screen of his phone before slowly setting it on the end table beside him. "I don't know," he answered finally. "Professor Erskine didn't tell me, and then he was gone. I hadn't thought about it."

Loki opened his mouth to suggest they go to Tony Stark or some other trustworthy scientist to test and find out, but the shut it again. No, he would not suggest that his friend become a laboratory plaything. "Well, I suppose we'll find out in time. Selfishly though, I will admit to hoping I'm right, and your lifespan continues beyond the average of your kind. It will make the years on this world much more tolerable."

"Thanks," Steve said and smiled wryly. "Nice to hear." Then his jaw widened with a yawn he belatedly tried to cover with his hand. "Oh my God, sorry, that's unbelievable! How am I even tired? I slept for sixty years!"

He sounded personally affronted by his sudden tiredness, and Loki had to smile. "You had a rough day, Steven. Get some rest."

"I don't know if I can."

Loki pressed his lips together and offered, "I can put you to sleep. If you like."

Steve's instant wide-eyed alarm was enough of a refusal, but then he blurted, "No, no, that's all right. I – I mean, thank you, but no. That sounds helpful but no."

Loki held up his hands and retreated a deliberate step. "Then I will not. Please, I do not wish you to fear me."

"No, I don't," Steve said, even though t hat was plainly a lie, given the reaction he'd just had. "I just – I'd rather do it naturally, if I can." He stood up, got a few steps to his bedroom door then turned around. "I'll see you in the morning?"

It tilted into a question, so Loki nodded. "You will."

"Okay. Good. G'night."

"Sleep well." He watched Steve enter the bedroom and when the door shut, Loki grabbed his phone and went to his own room. He didn't try to sleep though, he sat on the bed and decided to research Broadway shows. Natasha had mentioned one and adverts were plastered all over this part of the city, so there was quite a bit to learn.

He kept the volume low as sampling some of the music and settled in to spend a quiet night while his friend rested on the other side of the apartment.

...tbc...