A/N: Hey guys! Remember when I said a couple of weeks ago that I'll be updating at roughly lunch-ish? No? Brilliant! XD

Because I'm changing it to 'afternoon/evening, British time'. Hope those of you in my time zone don't mind. XD

Chapter 5

The Philosophy of Physics

The next day finds me sitting on the floor, reading the Big Book of Physics (my little nickname for it). A few things in it makes sense to me- like a couple of things we had been learning in college for the past couple of months- but most of it just reads like scientific mumbo jumbo. Why does Loki even give this much of a damn about physics, of all things? There are so many other books that he could have chosen for his Top 3 English Books list; yet for some reason he chose physics, of all things. It's not even got a 'Beginner's Guide to Physics' section, it just dives head first right into it without any regard for the reader. Cocky little bastard.

Whilst I'm struggling with deciphering the intricacies of advanced physics (with all them maths and algebra), Loki is meanwhile lounging on the couch, reading yet another foreign book without a title; only, this one looks much less battered and aged than the other ones.

Momentarily giving up on reading the book that's resting on my lap (which is already starting to cramp and ache, along with my back), I turn to look at Loki.

Everything is silent; he's entirely focussed on his book, and now is the time to ask him, this time he will tell me. I gather my courage and try to focus my own thoughts on the wording of my question.

"L-Loki?" I stammer. He makes a sound of acknowledgment.

"Where..." I trail off.

Focusfocusfocus! I look down at the book as a way to stall a little and gain some courage, the mantra in my head pounding on, consuming my thoughts, until-

"How can you understand all of this?" I blurt out, pointing at the book.

Ugh, you're useless, I think to myself. Irrationality and Stupidity, you're on your own.

"It is rather simple," Loki says from where he sits. "Most of the subjects which the book speaks of, I already know. I am only unfamiliar with the terms you mortals have used to label certain forces and contraptions. Besides," he says, peering over his book to give me an arrogant smirk, "I find it rather fascinating to see what is common knowledge on Asgard, which mortals either know nothing of or have completely misunderstood." I see what he did there, giving us little people a not so subtle jab.

"Oh, you think you're so smart just because you witnessed the dawn of civilisation," I say dryly.

"I do, as a matter of fact," he says, sounding amused.

"Well, you're not," I say decisively. There's silence from the couch, though I can't see Loki's face anymore to gauge the damage my comment made.

"Oh?" He asks softly from behind his book. "And why would a god be less knowledgeable than a mere mortal who dies only less than a century after birth?" He asks softly, his voice sharp with warning.

"Us mortals have a saying," I say as a response. "'You only live once'. We also have several other sayings, like 'life's too short', or 'life's a bitch and then you die'. Basically, what these sayings mean is that for us mortals, life is far too short to spend it hiding behind a book. Because of the amount of people on this planet who are trying to make something good and worthwhile out of their lives, Earth is forever shifting and changing, with never a stagnant century. Can you say the same for Asgard? The Realm where everyone lives for thousands of years; where everyone is a god and could have anything they wanted if they only went to a planet who's inhabitants are just about weak and gullible enough to worship you?" I pause in my speech. Chances are, none of this is going through to him, but that's alright. After all, you can't change a fixed mind, especially if that mind is as stubborn as Loki's.

"If you were to speak with an average human on the street," I say slowly, "chances are, they could tell you revelations about life you never thought to ponder before. Think of living on Earth as kind of like living on Asgard, but in fast forward where you, as the god, are the only one going at normal speed. I'm sure that with your people, you rarely think about death. With us humans, however, death is always on our minds."

"What are you saying, exactly?" Loki's voice cuts me off abruptly. "That Asgardians do not fear death? That we are incompetent and know nothing of life?" He asks, his tone sharp as a sword.

"No," I say thoughtfully. "But think about it, Loki. From what I can understand, you haven't changed much from Viking times. Yet, since those days, we have changed vastly. So many civilisations have risen and fallen, inventions have been created, wars have been fought and ancient history from when you last made yourselves known on Earth has long since been forgotten. Each individual may or may not be wiser than the oldest person on Asgard, but as a species we have far more history to offer, because our lives are forever on fast forward. You say that we only live for a century at the most, and each and every one of us is intimately aware of that fact. We can have several great wars in a single century, but what about you?" I ask him. I sincerely hope that the silence coming from the couch means that he's considering my lesson; but he says nothing, just turns another page and continues reading in silence.

Well, you can't teach an old god new tricks, I guess...

-BREAK-

The silence stretches on for an uncomfortable stretch of time. How long does it last for? Fuck if I know. I just know that it's been a while since my moment of philosophical clarity, and right now I'm on a role with this philosophy shit!

"So," I say slowly, having reached a page on the theory of black holes. "Have you ever seen a black hole? Actually, don't answer that! Have you ever been through a worm hole?" I ask excitedly. The silence from his side of the room is so intense, that I begin to think he's ignoring me. I open my mouth to ask a different question, when he finally answers.

"If by worm hole, you mean the pathways that one can travel through at will to arrive anywhere within Yggdrasil's branches, then yes. Many times," he says calmly.

"Wow," I say in awe. "What was it like?"

"It would be difficult for me to explain to one who has not travelled through these pathways before. I suppose the closest thing I can say is that it can be quite... disorienting, especially if it is your first time travelling in such a manner."

"Huh... well, how about... Roswell?" I ask, saying the first thing that comes to my mind. Loki again lowers his book, only this time he gives me a confused look that clearly states that he thinks I'm insane.

"And what of this... Roswell?" He asks slowly, like as if he were speaking to a crazy five year old who's imaginary friend is Freddy Krueger.

"Well, obviously it's not true, then," I mumble, but I tell him what it is regardless. "It's basically this famous alien crash site. They crashed there a few decades back and it's since then been hailed as the place to go for conspiracy enthusiasts," he still looks at me with no hint of recognition on his face. "Well, maybe it was something different, then. Like those little friends you brought with you that one time you tried to conquer the Earth."

"Perhaps," he says, though in a darker, more sullen tone. Perhaps I shouldn't have brought up his little attempted reign of terror...

Another question comes barging to the forefront of my mind, however. "How about the Ancient Egyptians? Do their alien gods exist somewhere? And what about the Hindus? And all those other religions, especially the ones with funny looking animal/people gods?"

"I cannot say," he says when I finally stop to breathe. "For those cultures, I do not believe that we had much influence on their beliefs."

"Right," I say slowly, my mind already on the next question. "Why do you look like us, if you are aliens who are undoubtedly far older than we are?" That is a little weird, considering that for them to be so ancient, it would mean that evolution would most probably take much, much, much longer to take hold. Maybe the religious nuts do have a point about some higher creator. But other than that, I have nothing to explain how these guys could have evolved separately from us, and yet still look so very like us at the same time.

Loki hesitates in his answer, looking a little upset for some reason, before he finally gets a grip on his facial expression.

That was odd... It was just a simple question!

"Our own philosophers theorize that not long after the birth of the Universe, some Asgardians- along with some of the other inhabitants of the realms- had been cursed by an ancient evil far in the past. This made them irreparably weak, and cursed their children with the same fate. Eventually, they are thought to have become mortals, and settled down for life on Midgard."

"So... I have godly blood in my veins?" I ask, grinning at the thought. He sneers at me.

"That is the theory, yes," he says, seemingly more than a little disgusted at the thought that we might share even a small portion of our genes.

"Hey, look on the bright side," I say, still grinning. "Us humans apparently share a very large percentage of our genes with bananas. That doesn't make me a funny shaped yellow fruit though, does it?" Loki just simply rolls his eyes, returning to his book.

"Hey, wait a second!" I say, only just realizing something and grabbing his very annoyed and aggravated attention again. "You said that was 'not long after the birth of the Universe,' but that's impossible as there shouldn't have been any life that soon after the Universe came about! And as for the curse, there's actually a curse that can make immortals have shorter lives?"

"Yes," is all he says.

"Yes to what?" I ask him. He sighs, closing his book and standing up to replace it on the bookshelf.

"Yes to the fact that there is a known curse, though the one that is present to this day is not nearly that powerful as to be able to affect a large number of beings, as well as their descendants.

"Also, it has been believed that life has been around since the dawn of the Universe, perhaps even since long before it. I can't tell you more as even the best of minds cannot say for certain, but we have legends and tales much like you do, and you have seen for yourself how in all mortal myths, there is some small, occasionally unimportant pieces of truth to be discovered. Now, if you will excuse me, I have other matters to attend to." With that said, he walks to the door, puts on his leather boots and steps outside.

You know, even though he's hiding on Earth, he's not really bothering to blend in with his clothing. Instead, he's stubbornly been wearing a pale green embroidered tunic and leather trousers, occasionally changing the tunic. Not too sure about whether he's wearing different trousers, though, but I'm sure he has some spare. After all, how much variety can you get in plain leather trousers?

But the one thing that I can't help but notice (the whole reason behind my wardrobe speculation) is that every time he walks out, he never puts on a coat. I don't even see any evidence that he so much as owns a coat; but I know for a fact that it must be freezing outside, what with it being late October. It's cold enough on the inside, so much so that he's actually been handing me blankets to keep me warm; though I think it's more out of a vain hope that I'll shut the Hell up, rather than out of the goodness of his heart.

It really is quite curious, all these little oddities. Perhaps he really is just bat shit crazy, after all...

-BREAK-

Before long, it's time for us to prepare dinner. However, my roommate seems very keen on keeping his royal behind firmly parked on the couch.

"Come on!" I whine. "You know I'm absolute shit at cooking meat, and you're a fucking carnivore!"

"Actually, I was thinking that it is your turn to cook for the night," he says brightly. "I do believe that you shouldn't be too awful, as you have had more than enough opportunity to observe my own food which I prepare. Just cook the usual meal for tonight," he says, and at that moment, god or not a god I seriously want to strangle his smug face.

He knows that I didn't give much notice on how he cooked the food. It's one of my greatest flaws -my inability to focus on the smaller things, and I tell him such.

"You should have been focusing, Shana," he reprimands. "After all, most of the time we were silent. There was little else for you to focus on rather than the food that was being prepared."

I don't know... I mean, Loki is pretty sexy, and seeing as he hasn't exactly shown himself to be a threat to me, I've taken up the opportunity to oggle the god in action with minimal confusion on the matter. Still not my type, though, but that doesn't stop me from daydreaming. This whole master/servant thing could be really fun to play around with, also. Then there's the way that he's-

"Shana!" He snaps. "I asked for you to make dinner, not to stand there staring into nothing."

"Sorry, sorry," I mumble, blushing slightly as I scurry into the kitchen. What can I say? I'm a woman with needs, a creature of pleasure and passion and... actually, I think I'll just stop right there before this develops into full on Stockholm Syndrome...

On the bright side, the kitchen didn't come under the threat of burning down during the dinner preparations. However, the meat was badly burned, and this time he wanted several kinds of meat (a chicken, large hunk of pork and some spare ribs)! I also decided to stick my customary salad on the side, as that way there'll at least be one thing that's edible on that small dining table. Loki gives me a very sharp, pointed look. With a wave of his hand, the food disappears.

"Try again, and this time I want you to prepare at least one of the meats correctly," he dismisses me, returning to the book that lies abandoned in the couch.

Right. I return to the kitchen with a huff.

If I screw it up again, he's making it himself!

Of course, I know that this is all my fault; I should have known that he wouldn't be giving me a friendly helping hand forever. Maybe I'm as crazy as he is...

I make the food again, keeping a close eye on the meat this time to ensure that it doesn't overcook. I even cut off little pieces of the chicken and pork on occasion to make sure that the meat in the middle doesn't get undercooked. However, the ribs are trickier as there normally isn't enough meat to go hacking it away just to be sure, and so I poke it with a knife instead, pretending that I know what I'm doing; turning the meats on occasion to make sure they get evenly cooked. It takes ages, yet again, and I'm sure it's the early hours of the morning by the time I'm done. Knackered and exhausted, I dish up.

"Not nearly as good as on Asgard," Loki comments as he samples each meat. "The ribs seem to be undercooked, also. However the chicken appears to be cooked well enough; while the pork, though rather dry, will do for now."

Well, I suppose that's as good as I'm going to get for now... It could have been worse, though. He could have ordered me to cook it again...