The next day, I go back to my routine. I leave Luke in the house with a pile of books. He's taken to one of the armchairs in my living room, absorbing sunlight and cinnamon tea while he browsing my collection. I'm still not sure what, exactly, I'm going to do with him. Is he going to get a job, or something? Today I don't ask, merely tell him stutteringly that I should be back by four. My number is taped next to the phone in the kitchen.

Luke nods, barely glancing up from my DK Commanders book. It had been a father's day gift a long, long time ago. When Dad showed no real interest in it, I'd filched it on one of my visits home from college. War history was of little interest to me, but in my line of work it was good to be well-rounded. Picasso even painted war. It is strong inspiration

Charlene acts as though I've been away months, rather than two days. All morning I'm peppered with question about my new housemate and his habits. I try to remain vague, but my boss has a tendency to pry. When eleven comes, I escape to my usual tour guiding duties, hopefully leaving the topic to rest. I take three groups through before it is time for my lunch break.

"Are you going to bring him by the gallery?" Charlene asks as I tuck into my pastrami and Diet Coke.

Swallowing, I glare. "So you and the others can oogle over him? No, thanks. He…distant, anyways."

Charlene is unperturbed. "Not even to show him where you work?"

"He isn't my boyfriend."

"Uh-huh."

I don't need to defend myself to her; the mere idea of Luke dating is an unsettling thought. He just doesn't strike me as a couple-person. Some people are couple people - - -and he isn't one.

Changing the subject, Charlene says, "So, Pepper and Tony are due here week after next."

"Oh." This is news to me. "Why?"

"Since they missed the gala, they felt so awful, Tony is flying in for a tour."

I'm incredulous. "Just a tour?"

"Well, I suspect it may also have something to do with the technology summit being hosted in the city that week," Charlene replies dryly. "But we can pretend it's just for us. Can you be the one to show them around?"

For the life of me, I can't understand why Charlene wouldn't want to smooze with the power couple. It's an opportunity I wouldn't miss, if I wasn't in her position. I don't mind; I like Pepper, and Tony always inadvertently amuses me. Without much thought, I accept.

"Good. They'll be here in the evening." Charlene grins. "And Ms. Potts wants to treat her tour guide to dinner."

I'm aghast. "Do they know it's me?"

"I'm sure they have a pretty good idea. C'mon, Tati, it'll be fun."

"But-Stark is, like, a superhero."

"All the more reason to go! They'll be here around six, then Pepper wants dinner in the hotel. And, you can bring a date." My boss winks.

I have no doubt she's scheming on what she thinks in my behalf. Any guy would jump at the opportunity to meet The Tony Stark, a man's man. Unfortunately, Luke isn't "any guy." I don't think he'd give a rat's ass.

Like I need to impress him, anyways.

-XXX-

Luke Laufeyson is a good house guest. I come home to find the dishes in the dishwasher, the front door locked, all unnecessary lights off, and even some of my clutter minimized. There is even something in the over, something that smells like it might be dinner. For a moment, I stand in the middle of my kitchen, mouth agape.

Winchester trots in shortly after, whiskers stiff. He rubs against my bare legs, looking up at me before he cries. It's dinner time for him. I get the feeling he isn't too pleased with me for leaving him alone with a stranger all day. I coo as I scour the cabinets for the cat food bag, telling him what a handsome and good boy he'd been for me.

"I've never been called handsome before."

A voice from behind shakes me from my search, and I turn to see Luke leaning against the threshold to the living room. His smile is one of ease, white teeth glinting. I feel myself flush, and play along. I don't feel in the mood to correct myself, because, well, he is handsome. In his own, sharp, dangerous kind of way. Like a snake is beautiful. Or a shark. Or some other slinky, cold-blooded creature.

"Never?"

"Well," he says, entering the room on lazy limbs. "There was that time last night when you might've mentioned it…."

Of course. If I could facepalm, I would, but my fingers have touched the top of the Purina, and I pull it from the shelve, my eyes on Win, who is pacing, tail like a fluid whip. I fill his bowl, watching him as he rushed upon the food. The bag is rolled down, and I replace it on the shelf.

"Sorry about that," I murmur. "I don't know what came over me."

"You were tired. Stressed. How was your day?"

-XXX-

Over dinner (which is not nearly as awkward as our first had been, thank God) I tell Luke about my boss. More specifically, I tell him that she's dying to meet him. And then, that he won't be meeting her. He raises his brows in that way he does, and asks, "Why ever not?"

I don't really have an answer, but assure him it's a bad idea. We move on to other topics, namely, his day.

To my surprise, he hadn't been incredibly bored. In fact, he'd had a grand ol' time reading through my personal library. When he lists titles, I know I'm in trouble. Even if it just takes him a month to adapt, he's likely to run out of reading materials unless he slows down. But, I am encouraged that he'd doing something with his day. Better that than moping. Well, better than a lot of things that he might be doing, actually. We end up having a lively discussion of his reading, the primary focus being Beowulf.

It's not favourite of mine, by any means, merely something I felt was necessary to my collection. A classic, it was a drag to get through, honestly, though written in a poetic form. Luke, of course, loves it. When I tell him there is a movie he gets genuinely excited. He orders, more so than asks, that we watch it.

For the first time since he's woken up, I feel comfortable in Luke's presence. We eat and talk, sharing a bottle of some old red that had been hiding in the back of my cabinet (or, "wine cellar," as I tell him in that ironic tone). The drink relaxes us both. Enough so that he tells me a little bit more about his past.

"I'm the younger brother," he says, swirling his wine in its glass. "Thor was always…physically stronger than I. And, in our family, that's what is really admired. I was the intelligent. And he was just always…better."

"That can't be true," I protest softly.

Luke shakes his head. "No, he was revered. No matter how clever I was, it was nothing in comparison to my brother. I've always been weaker, smaller."

Eyeing his wiry muscles, I wonder just how buff this older brother could be.

"Does he love you?" I ask.

He blinks. "What?"

I stare into my wine. "My little brother was always a troublemaker. He had ADHD…he was kind of hyper. Always into something. Not very smart in his schemes, but he caused a lot of problems at school. Whereas I," I took a drink. "Was the 'good child.' I had my fair share of issues, but when I was older I received a lot of awards and local honors for various things. Active in school, stayed away from drugs. Even when he was being good, Jay always had me stealing his spotlight."

Luke considers this, frowning. "Does he resent you for it?"

"I don't think so. At least, not all the time. He might be jealous, but he found his own thing. While I was a nerd, he eventually went to state a couple of times in sports. He could always kick my ass, anyways. Outrun me, and stuff like that. We sort of evened-out, over time."

He seems to absorb this slowly.

Quietly, I say, "I think it all matters on how we handle things like this. Not necessarily how people treat you, but how you react."

Perhaps these differences are what lead to Luke's estrangement. I don't ask, but my heart hurts for him. It's hard to come in second place.

We continue the discussion long into the night. Wine switches out to tea (we're both buzzed, but the tea takes us in an entirely different direction). As I curl in the larger armchair, Luke paces the room, letting the conversation flow. Balancing my mug on my knee, I lean forward at the exciting bits, struggling not to slosh myself when I laugh. He's quick to smile tonight. It's not just any smile either. This one is bright. Genuine. I can tell, because he has a habit of rubbing his chin and upper lip when he grins, half-laughing. He was clean-shaved when I found him, I remember. This must simply be yet another change. One I think I might like.

Not that my opinion matters.

-XXX-

Before I even started scrawling down this piece, I knew my main character had to be someone who was specifically an older sibling. The dynamic would work only if that happened. I think the psychology of who Loki is has been centrally based around his experiences as a younger brother. I want him to gain some perspective on the other end.

Truth be told, I did pull some of my experience as an elder sister to put in Tati's POV. People can always surpass their raisin' (to use a very Southern term), and Loki, I feel, choose to let the inferiority complex take him. He's smart enough to overcome it.

It's always lovely to see follows and favourites-thanks so much for the support. Reviews would also be lovely, but I'll keep writing no matter what feedback I receive. If you're looking for a conversation about various motivations, just to critique, comment, or question, I answer all. Just ask K.L., haha.

Thank you for reading,

~Dania