11

If anything at all, I'm proud to say I didn't curl up on the floor and cry copious tears at the departure of my sufficiently irritating house-guest. But god knows I felt like I could have. I felt odd being back in my room. My spine had to re-familiarize itself with the lumpy mattress. Laying down flat and gazing at the ceiling I wondered how he had slept in it at all. They must have had feather beds with silk covers, in Asgard. This thing was no better than the pavement, when compared.

Loki hadn't fiddled with any of my things, since my outburst. In fact, the sheets didn't even look slept in. Had he spent all these nights pacing and thinking? How was he supposed to get his strength back that way?

The sun was setting and I was wondering just how long 'a little while' meant. I didn't have much time, because the phone began to ring wildly off the hook in the living room.

"Hello?"

"McAllister!" Delacroix's voice barked at me. "I need you to get down here, pronto."

Any excuse to be out of that empty house.

I packed myself some sandwiches and tossed my things into the empty passenger seat. I out the truck in reverse and backed out the drive, pushing gears and hitting the gas, shuttling down the long empty road. When I arrived, the storehouse was bustling with life. I sidled past some workers and looked around. There was nothing for me on the large blackboard out front that listed each shift's details. Mr Delacroix's office was wide open and I could see his shadow against the blinds. I knocked on the glass door and he looked up from his cellphone.

"Ah, McAllister. Sorry about the inconvenience."

I gaped at him. My boss was not one to apologize. He put his phone away and addressed me again.

"Huge mess up at the East Dock. The shipment we were waiting for is finally here. Took long enough. Had to call half my workers back. Muntz will set you up."

I found Ol' Muntz in out on the pier with clipboard, surrounded by disgruntled workers.

"Man, I was halfway through my dinner."

"Suck it up, Charlie," Muntz said. "Sooner we finish these deliveries, sooner we can be home with our families."

I chewed on my lip, wishing he had not said that last bit. The man began to announce names and allocate shipments.

"McAllister. Jetson building, all boxes from Kramer's, got that?"

"Yessir," I pattered off to load my deliveries into the truck. Mere minutes after that I was driving down the highway into South Dutton once more. The other workers had grumbled all through out allocation, but I was happy to have a job on my hands. The drive was a long one. It took me to the older regions of town, where the corporate offices were located. The Jetson was a dilapidated looking place, no more than three stories, but massive and blocky with vines on the sides. It had an old charm to it, but the old security guard proved to me much of an obstacle. I did my delivery and found myself vacant and restless just a little after eight. I had parked on an empty road to eat my sandwiches.

Well, that's it. That's the end of today. It was frightfully dull. No explosions, no magic, nothing. I wondered how long it would last, the pinching boredom. I chewed my food, studying the signs on the road. And just like that, we're back to square one. Weston Street. Talladega Street. Nothing to look forward to but boats and bills. Hannigan Street. Fairview Street. You know what this place is right? A hop skip and a jump from Palace Street. So are you just going to wait for something interesting to happen?

"No," I breathed, with my hand already around the clutch, "I'm making sure it does."

WHOA. So many reads and follows and reviews. I am honoured *deep bow* I'm so glad you have read and liked my fic :) I'll make sure to update more often from now on. Shout out to Daliah Valley: xoxo. To Fangirl-Karla and Booth Seeley Booth, this chapter is dedicated to you!