THANKS! for all my reviews and everything! I love you!

For my guest reviewer, the Doctor Who reference was thus:

Series 6 Ep 3 (the one with pirates)

Captain Avery: I'm confused

Doctor: Yeah, well, it's a big club, we should get t-shirts

^_^ Ever since I saw that I wanted a t-shirt like the one I gave Efa. It's a very subtle reference though!

o

Now onto the actual story! A short chapter this one, and I've been both kind and mean to you. Kind because I'm updating again after I only did so last night, mean because this one's got a cliff-hanger! Enjoy!

Oh and NLP = Neuro-Linguistic Programming

o

Chapter Eight:

Memory and Suspicion

Efanna sighed and threw down her paintbrush in annoyance. It made a green splatter on the floor but she wasn't bothered. It had been a long time since the concrete of her workshop floor had looked even remotely concrete coloured. She was behind schedule. Her day of illness had almost caused her to miss the deadline for the commissioned piece Loki had first seen her painting. Thankfully it had now been delivered, and she'd received full payment and thanks, but the delay had impacted on her other work and managing her Asgardian guest was proving more time consuming than she had expected. A small art shop in a nearby town was holding an exhibition of her work in a week's time and she still had to complete at least a quarter of the work for it.

She dug her hand into her forehead and ran it through her hair, leaving green streaks of paint that she couldn't be arsed to be concerned about. The painting before her was slowly starting to take shape; a mass of greens, swirling into a vortex as though moved by vicious invisible currents. It was obviously inspired by Loki. She could feel his conflict and his pain as she painted and in her mind's eye saw a circular inscription of runes depicting loss and suffering. Idly, she wondered what he would think when he saw it, but her thoughts were interrupted once again by memories of the previous days and Visions.

Efa groaned, holding her head and leaving more smudges on her pale skin. Her mind was too full. She'd only been able to clear it once since Loki had arrived. She was used to doing so every evening and more had happened that needed processing in the last week than she normally dealt with in months, leaving her poor mind overflowing. Not only did she now have to deal with her present for the first time in over a decade, but her Visions were becoming more insistent, almost as frequent now as they had been around the incidents of Manhattan earlier that year.

It was no use. She'd have to risk it. Not only did she feel as though she would burst if she didn't, but she was sure that something was brewing. Something strange, something quite possibly dangerous and something that seemed to actually involve her, for she had Seen herself more times in the past week than she had in her entire life. Efanna wanted to know as much about it as she possibly could. She would have to check that Loki was busy first though; if he caught her there would be no way she could hide her secret any longer.

She cleared an area of her workspace, preparing everything so she didn't have to spend any more time than necessary. Once everything was set up she dashed through the drizzle across to her kitchen, on the pretence of getting a drink if Loki should catch her. Luckily, when she peeked her head around the door into the lounge she saw that he was sat at the TV, watching more Doctor Who. Efa suspected that he was actually quite enjoying it. They'd developed a routine – he'd watch it whilst she painted, and then at mealtimes and whenever he wanted a verbal sparring match they'd argue over everything from plot holes to the development of the characters to the deep psychology behind the script and what it showed about the human character. Efanna was beginning to have a sneaking suspicion that they were both beginning to disagree simply for the fun of arguing. Loki refused to let her have the last word and she loved provoking him. Their discussions were sharp, quick and at times incredibly obscure and they were the most fun she had had in years. And by the way Loki's mouth always began to curl up at its corner at her retorts, Efa suspected he enjoyed having someone who wouldn't just give up more than he would ever admit.

He was about half way through the second series now, apparently the double-parter where Rose and the Doctor meet the 'Beast' buried on the asteroid orbiting a black hole. Efa grinned. Not only did he seem to be near the beginning of the story, which would give her plenty of time, but that was going to make for interesting over-dinner conversation later.

She quickly snuck back to her workshop, not wanting to announce her presence if she didn't need to, and retrieved one of her large sketch pads from the large filing cabinet in the corner. It was one she kept locked, even though she so rarely had visitors. The contents of these sketch pads she didn't want anyone finding out about. She flipped through the first few pages, already covered, and neatly wrote the date at the top of the next blank one. She uncapped several different coloured pens, lining them neatly up at the top of the page and took the black one in hand, holding it just above the centre.

Efanna calmed her mind, running through the exercises her mother had taught her all those years ago. Slowly her subconscious took over and her hand began to jerk across the page as everything that had happened since she'd last sorted through her mind swirled about her head and was transferred to the paper in front of her. Her eyes were unfocussed, the limbs she was not using, limp. Her brain had shut off everything that wasn't connected to the clearing of her mind. If Loki walked in now she would have no knowledge of it and he would inevitably find out everything.

Other than her increased ability to heal and her apparent anonymity, Efanna's Visions had produced one more side effect for her to contend with: she was incapable of forgetting. Since her memories had first begun in earnest, when she was around two years old, she had not forgotten a single day, a single second of her life. To most people this would sound wonderful, but to Efa it was a pain in the arse. The human brain is not really made to store that quantity of information and the sheer amount of tedious detail very quickly gave her extreme headaches. But this was not the reason Efanna envied those who could forget. There were many things, both that she had Seen and that she had actually experienced, that she sorely wished she did not have to remember.

When Efa had been five her mother had developed a way of rationalising her mind, a way of allowing the subconscious to take most of the burden of memory, thus allowing Efanna's conscious mind some rest. She still remembered everything, but it no longer had to remain at the forefront of her mind all the time. As Efa grew, her Visions showed her how to perfect her mother's original NLP based technique until it grew into what it was now. Efa would enter a meditative trance, allowing the subconscious part of her mind to filter through her memories, deciding what was important, what she could deal with and what needed to be stored for now. This was processed physically using her skill at drawing, into a form where Efanna could understand consciously what her subconscious had decided. The resulting sketches now filled an entire cabinet, and contained many things which would be rather incriminating if anyone should find them.

o

"Pinch, punch, first of the month!" Efa cried cheerfully, lightly pinching and butting her fist against Loki's arm.

"Pardon?"

"It's the first of October!" she told him with a smile, "It's a human thing, don't worry about it. It doesn't really make any sense anyway…"

Her voice trailed off and her head tilted to one side again as she appeared to consider this strange mortal tradition. Loki shook his head gently and went back to eating his cereal. He was used, by now, to her strange habits.

"How goes the work?" he asked, noting that once again she was covered in paint smudges, this time black and grey.

"Really good! I've just finished one, I've now only got, what five? six? more to do before next Monday."

She grimaced slightly and he smirked at her.

"But, you know, seeing as it's not actually raining and I've got hand cramp, I thought we should maybe go for another walk."

"As you wish."

Efa beamed at him, as over-enthusiastic as always and rushed upstairs, babbling something about waiting for her outside whilst she changed her clothes. Loki had learnt that with Efanna, it was easiest to just take the path of least resistance. She was quite simply the most overbearingly stubborn being he had ever met and would ruthlessly nag him if he tried to protest against any of her plans. They had had a fairly heated argument, however, when she had asked him to help her 'muck out' the chicken barn.

The majority of these ideas of hers he didn't actually mind. Despite all his expectations, Efa was a fairly entertaining companion, and the more relaxed she was in his presence the more she let slip about the amount she knew. He had carefully prompted her towards varying topics which she should have no knowledge of and yet each she had discussed as freely as she did the weather. She knew a surprising amount about Asgard, even including such plants and animals that he was sure did not exist on Midgard. Her knowledge of his attack on New York was less unexpected, seeing as it had occurred in her own realm, but even there she spoke of details that he was sure she had no way of knowing. Most alarmingly, though, was the intimacy with which she discussed him, alluding to aspects of his nature and moments of his past which not even Thor knew of.

Although he now had far greater information about the extent of her knowledge, she had been remarkably adept at keeping her source secret. Despite her apparent tendency to talk impulsively about whatever entered her mind, she was skilled at evading any hidden questions in his speech. On the few times he had grown frustrated and simply demanded he tell her the truth she had darted out of his reach and gave him answers that were either so vague or pedantic that he forgot what he was asking her in a fit of anger. With hindsight he had a sneaking suspicion that she had deliberately orchestrated those encounters to provoke such a response, apparently unconcerned about the few times he had managed to hit or kick her in retaliation.

Loki was growing more curious about her by the day. Unless this mortal body had weakened his mind, he was sure that no mere Midgardian should be able to play him in such a way as she. But there were other aspects to her that were tugging at him. If ever she bruised, her skin seemed to clear far quicker than his own in this form; and if ever it appeared that their bare skin might touch she somehow managed to dart away before contact could be made. He was becoming increasingly aware of the black gloves she wore whenever she was interacting with him, yet removed for any other purpose.

His musings had now taken him to the courtyard, where he stood with a brisk breeze whipping his new leather coat around his legs. He was far more comfortable now he once again had the luxury of clean clothes every day, even if Efanna forced him to launder them himself. On thinking of Efa, he began to wonder where she was. Unlike Asgardian women she seemed unconcerned about her appearance, and more often than not was covered in paint. It was certainly unlike her to take this long. He waited a couple of minutes longer before deciding to investigate his mortal host's whereabouts.

"Efa?" he called out, entering the utility. Strangely there was no answer.

He removed his boots and entered the house properly, calling her name again. Once again silence. He frowned slightly and entered the sitting room where he found her, sprawled on the stone floor at the foot of the stairs, her dog gently nudging at her face.

"Efa?" he called again, slowly walking towards her.

He couldn't tell if she was breathing or not. He pushed aside the dog and knelt down beside her, brushing aside a lock of her orange hair and placing the back of his hand to the space before her nose and mouth. He breathed a small sigh of relief when he felt a slight tickle on his skin.

"Efanna?"

Her eyes were closed and she made no sign that she had hear him. Loki moved his hand to her shoulder and shook her gently.

"Efanna, can you hear me?"

Once again there was no response and Loki tried to ignore the fact that he could feel his heart rate steadily rising. He could not be worried about a mere mortal.

"Efanna," he repeated, his voice stern this time.

He pushed gently on her shoulder, rolling her limp body onto her back. There was a trickle of blood working its way down her paint-streaked face from her hairline.

So yeah, thoughts? I'd love to hear them! I'm now off to write the next chapter, hopefully it won't be too long!