This one goes out to Ivory Tears.

Part Two: Of Fire and Ice

My vision came in painful flashes of light. What is happening, Paton? Stand up! Stand up!

I was just a head floating across space and the rest of me had dissolved into the universe. I was vaguely aware of two voices in my head. One was my own, fighting for consciousness. And one was Loki's. It was laced with concern. Or was it one of his little tricks again? I felt like I was caving into my own being and in that instant I knew exactly what was happening to me as fireworks lit the corners of my eyes – a sugar-low.

Ruddy perfect timing, I'll give you that. Perfect way to cut an awkward conversation short. Just faint. Voilà! Shut up!

My body gave me a twelve second window of consciousness in which I tried to formulate the word 'sugar'. Loki had managed to deposit me on the couch. His face vanished from my line of sight. There was a sound of my kitchen being ransacked.

You sure know how to show a prince a good time, don't you?

I felt a sweet cold liquid being tipped into my mouth. A moment later, it brought me back, reeling and disoriented, to my dirty little living room. Loki was kneeling beside me, his mouth set at an angle.
"Blueberries."
"Allow me to be frank; you are quite possibly the worst hostess."
I sat up, holding my throbbing head until I didn't feel like I was made of corrosive metal anymore. I groaned, "I wouldn't expect the immortal to sympathise. We need to get food."
"Are you quite sure you're even capable of-" he was asking as I staggered away to the kitchen.
"I need to get to the bank."
"Couldn't you make a stop there between deliveries tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow's Saturday, there are no deliveries. And then it will be Sunday and by Monday morning you'll have to take my corpse out to the garbage collector, I doubt that would be much amusement for you."
I licked my lips and frowned.
"What on earth did you give me? It tastes like-"
Loki was holding a bowl of blue coloured liquid – expired Jell-O-mix and water.

I grasped my throat with both hands, "Are you trying to poison me?"
"I just saved your life!" He said defiantly.
"That went back like over a year ago!"
"And yet you insist on keeping it in the house? Whose fault is that, then?"
I began to feel weak again and held up my hand, "Alright, can we please just re-stock the fridge?"
"We?" He sneered.
"Yes, grab your jacket. We're walking."
Loki shook his head, "I'm afraid not. I'm not familiar with your Midgardian procedures, and I have much on my mind, I do not wish to leave the house."
What a shitty excuse, you freeloader!
"Well I can't just-!" I began. "It's not-there's no way I-"
I sighed and pulled my jacket off the back of the couch.

Asshole, making me do all the errands myself, when clearly I am in poor physical condition.
Yes, but he's worse off than you, you saw so for yourself at the costume shop.
Shut up, brain. He's a god. I bet her doesn't even feel pain.
Sure about that?
Yes, now get out.

I ambled along to Riverside Harbour. My legs would not carry me very far or very fast, so I headed for the tiny gas station just off the scenic road that lead away from the Harbour in the direction of the next small town. The station was a family business, run by a cousin of Officer Hank and his wife and sons. There was a department store tucked into a corner behind the large Z-shaped gas-tanks. I fished around in my pocket for my credit card. It had been sitting safely at home, almost unused, and I was thankful I hadn't been carrying it on me when I was mugged. There was a reason for this of course. I was up to my ears in debt and thought maybe if I pretended the card had disappeared, my problems would too. If I could just manage to buy a few things with it, I swore I would pay my way back into society's good books by saving my next few pay-checks. It would be hard to do it, with my houseguest, but I swore anyway.

To my greatest relief, the card cleared and I was billed for the tins of soup, bread, butter and biscuits. I walked out to the gas-man and said, "I need a refill."
"Where's your car, darl?" He smiled with a tooth missing.
"I'll need a can."
I doubled back for a pack of pretzels, the void in my stomach was intensifying and if I needed to keep my face from plastering itself to the road on my way back, I needed to eat.

This wasn't the first time I was left with nothing. I had gone for four days once without food and it was agonizing. But the human spirit can be a very powerful thing. It took every ounce of energy I had to pick myself up off the ground and make a round of deliveries by foot. As luck would have it, I was given a ten-buck tip from the old lady in one of the houses and that sustained me till my pay check came in the mail. Things weren't so bad, not yet.

When I returned, Loki approved of the fact that there would be dinner, even if it was a pauper's meal. He was examining the tin of butter.
"Everything has an expiration date." He said soberly.
"Philosophizing, are we?"
"The food is never stale in Asgard."
"That's probably because you have tens of thousands of servants making sure the whipped cream's never an hour old."
"Do you have a problem with the affluent, Paton?"
Yes. "No."
He raised his eyebrows at me.
"I have a huge problem, alright?" I snapped, stirring the soup in a pan and checking on the toast.
"Seems rather unreasonable of you."
I spluttered, "Oh, so a couple of blokes waltzing around trying to claim everything as their own sounds bloody reasonable, does it?"
"Yes."
"That's bollocks."
"It's just the way things are."
"Well excuse me for leaning toward Renaissance self-fashioning!"
"It would be absolute anarchy if we were all on the same plane. Peasants wearing lush furs, nobles drinking out of steel cups like farm animals."
I glowered at him. You welcomed a bloody colonizer to your home? He's practically a neo-Nazi, Paton. "And just what are you drinking out of, your highness?"
Loki glared at the soda bottle at his elbow. "If I had a choice in the matter, this would never have happened."
"If you had a choice, you should've stayed on your damn Asgard."
Loki's eyebrows drew together. Don't, Paton, he's only tricking you into feeling bad about yourself!
I sighed, "I'm sorry I said that."
"And well should you be." Loki stood up, sliding off the chair at the island and returning to my room.