6

When he had dozed off on the couch after grilling me about my job for half an hour, I left my father in the house and went to the backyard for a breather.

It was hardly a breather though, considering what I laid my eyes upon.

The two Chitauri were busy sharpening some sort of spearing tools, seated on one of the innumerable projections of their spacecraft. I swallowed hard and forced my feet towards them. Two pairs of evil eyes glinted at me, tense jowls in a nasty sneer.

"Where is Loki?" I addressed them as plainly as I could, but for vanity or language they ignored me and continued working at their tools. I contemplate backing away slowly, without giving them access to vulnerable spots, but then again when I looked at it, they were large lethal monsters and I was a bag of skin and bones with plenty of juice.

"You need not fear them," I voice boomed from somewhere above me. "At least not yet."

Loki was perched on the very top of my house, straddling a curious object - a cross between a snow sled and a hover craft, for it had no wheels.

"What you got there, Loki?"

He leaned forward, leaning his elbows on what I could only presume was the steering, "Prototype."
"Of what exactly?"
"The Chitauri, besides being first class predators are, as you will soon realize, excellent engineers."
Another question skilfully evaded.
"What happens now?" I asked.
"Well it was all quite simple really, before you complicated matters."
"I'm a complicated person," I shrugged.
In a heartbeat Loki was standing next to me, "I'll leave damage control to you then."
"What could possibly go wrong in the next twelve hours?"
"Do listen to yourself while you speak," Loki rolled his eyes.

I looked from the solitary contraption on my room to the spacecraft where the Chitauri were working.

"And if someone happens to notice all this," I gestured about the yard, "happens to call in the police?"
"Yes?"
"Well then they'll have it all disposed of and my house will be raised to the ground and I'll probably be arrested."
"A risk I'm more than willing to take," he smiled coolly.
I grabbed his wrist, "Just what do you think you're trying to pull here, Loki?"
His eyes, I thought to myself, they were always hard now - precious emeralds, but without much soul.
"Are you even sure this is a good idea?"
"Of course."
"No, I mean look at them," I jerked my head towards the abominations in my yard. "Look closely. Do you really think you can trust them?"
Loki remained quiet.
"This is not a Beauty and the Beast thing - all that beautiful on the inside crap. I mean really look and tell me you don't feel the same uneasiness about them that I do."
"You have every reason to feel uneasy, you're a defenseless mortal. I have several advantages over you."
I stared at him hard. Give me a straight answer you wretch!
Often I was certain he could hear me thinking. Anger flashed across his eyes and then for the first time in days I saw the depth in them again. For a brief moment I saw the lost boy.
"It is irrelevant," he said, "Perhaps they are not trustworthy, perhaps this will lead nowhere, but I have no more options and do not take this as insult directed at you in particular but I have no wish to wither and die among your people."
I realized I was still grasping his wrist in my fingers; quickened pulse, how very odd. I dropped his hand and turned away to the house.

Just before pushing open the screen door in the back of the house, I furrowed my brows and called out in a cold voice, "Try and keep the noise down till tomorrow morning, if you think you can manage that, your majesty."

Dinner was a solemn affair, but I put my pride aside and gave Loki my warmest smile when I found the table set with clean plates and actual food - not out of a can, but something that had stewed in its own juices a good hour and was garnished with herbs. Some poor sod across town was probably wondering where his meal had gotten to.

"Where's mine?" Greg McAllister was not one to mince words.
I looked down at the table. Only two plates and two pairs of silverware. That damn trickster.
"My mistake," I took the fall. "We're so used to just the pair of us dining together."
I hopped to the kitchen and scrounged around for a plate.
"And my chair?"
There were only the two rickety bar stools.
"Forget it, I'll take the couch," Greg McAllister mumbled, roughly ladling himself his share and drifting as far away from me as the four walls would allow.

I sat down opposite Loki, believing I could cut through the tension with the knife in my right hand.

Silence.

Halfway through my first course I glanced up at him; he had barely touched his food. He caught my gaze once. I wanted to thank him, but I just looked away and hummed to myself. It was hard to be grateful to a stuck-up conjurer. I was left to do the dishes again as my father settled down into the couch, the flickering light of the eleven o'clock news dancing on him. It was strange to see him 'making-do' like that. Strange to see him accepting help. Strange to see him, period.

Loki had disappeared into my room, where he stationed himself at the window, watching the Chitauri outside. They had kept rather quiet.

I cleared my throat when I was done drying the spoons.

"Anything else?" I asked, trying to use as few syllables to communicate as was humanly possible. Greg McAllister did not turn to look at me, he simply shook his head. "Alright, then."
"There's something," he began, reaching into the folds of the jacket he was still wearing. I watched as he pulled out a blue paper envelope that was bent and dog-eared. He smoothed it across his knee and held it out to me, making eye contact at last.
"What's this?"
"She never got around to posting this. Last one she ever wrote. It's not finished though."
I took the letter with a trembling hand and read the neat but faded cursive on the front.

"Thanks," I said forcefully. "Goodnight."
"'Night," he said gruffly, still watching me.
You did not think this through at all, eh? No, I can't say I did. Unsteadily and most unwillingly I turned around and slipped into my bedroom, shutting the door with a click.
"What," Loki began, "are you doing?"
Well, I haven't the slightest idea, to be honest.